hich was "Stanzas on the Difficulty with which, in Youth,
we Bring Home to our Habitual Consciousness, the Idea of Death," to
which Lloyd appended the following sentence from Elia's essay on "New
Year's Eve," as motto: "Not childhood alone, but the young man till
thirty, never feels practically that he is mortal. He knows it indeed,
and, if need were, he could preach a homily on the fragility of life;
but he brings it not home to himself, any more than in a hot June, we
can appropriate to our imagination the freezing days of December."]

LETTER 331

CHARLES LAMB TO REV. H.F. CARY

India Office, 14th Oct., 1823.

Dear Sir,--If convenient, will you give us house room on Saturday next?
I can sleep anywhere. If another Sunday suit you better, pray let me
know. We were talking of Roast _Shoulder_ of Mutton with onion sauce;
but I scorn to prescribe to the hospitalities of mine host.

With respects to Mrs. C., yours truly, C. LAMB.

LETTER 332

CHARLES LAMB TO THOMAS ALLSOP

[No date. ?Oct., 1823.]

Dear Sir--Mary has got a cold, and the nights are dreadful; but at the
first indication of Spring (_alias_ the first dry weather in Nov'r
early) it is our intention to surprise you early some even'g.

Believe me, most truly yours,

C.L.

The Cottage, Saturday night.

Mary regrets very much Mrs. Allsop's fruitless visit. It made her swear!
She was gone to visit Miss Hutchins'n, whom she found OUT.

LETTER 333

CHARLES LAMB TO J.B. DIBDIN

[P.M. October 28, 1823.]

My dear Sir--Your Pig was a _picture_ of a pig, and your Picture a _pig_
of a picture. The former was delicious but evanescent, like a hearty fit
of mirth, or the crackling of thorns under a pot; but the latter is an
_idea_, and abideth. I never before saw swine upon sattin. And then that
pretty strawy canopy about him! he seems to purr (rather than grunt) his
satisfaction. Such a gentlemanlike porker too! Morland's are absolutely
clowns to it. Who the deuce painted it?

I have ordered a little gilt shrine for it, and mean to wear it for a
locket; a shirt-pig.

I admire the petty-toes shrouded in a veil of something, not _mud_, but
that warm soft consistency with [? which] the dust takes in Elysium
after a spring shower--it perfectly engloves them.

I cannot enough thank you and your country friend for the delicate
double present--the Utile et Decorum--three times have I attempted to
write this sentence and failed; whi