st friendly hint that it will be
convenient, I end with begging our very kindest loves to Mrs. Gillman.
We have had a sorry house of it here. Our spirits have been reduced till
we were at hope's end what to do-- obliged to quit this house, and
afraid to engage another, till in extremity I took the desperate resolve
of kicking house and all down, like Bunyan's pack; and here we are in a
new life at board and lodging, with an honest couple our neighbours. We
have ridded ourselves of the cares of dirty acres; and the change,
though of less than a week, has had the most beneficial effects on Mary
already. She looks two years and a half younger for it. But we have had
sore trials.

God send us one happy meeting!--Yours faithfully,

C. LAMB.

["The question of etiquette." See the _Summa Theologies_, Pars Tertia,
Quest. XXX., Articulus II. It would be interesting to know whether Lamb
remembered an earlier letter in which he had set Coleridge some similar
"nuts."

"In a new life." The Lambs moved next door, to the Westwoods. The house,
altered externally, still stands (1912) and is known as "Westwood
Cottage."]

LETTER 493

CHARLES LAMB TO VINCENT NOVELLO

[P.M. Probably Nov. 10, 1829.]

Dear FUGUE-IST,

or hear'st thou rather

CONTRAPUNTIST--?

We expect you four (as many as the Table will hold without squeeging) at
Mrs. Westwood's Table D'Hote on Thursday. You will find the White House
shut up, and us moved under the wing of the Phoenix, which gives us
friendly refuge. Beds for guests, marry, we have none, but cleanly
accomodings at the Crown & Horseshoe.

Yours harmonically,

C.L.

[Addressed: Vincentio (what Ho!) Novello, a Squire, 66, Great Queen
Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields.]

["The Phoenix." Mr. Westwood was agent for the Phoenix Insurance
Company, and the badge of that office was probably on the house.]

LETTER 494

CHARLES LAMB TO WALTER WILSON

Enfield, 15th November, 1829.

My dear Wilson,--I have not opened a packet of unknown contents for many
years, that gave me so much pleasure as when I disclosed your three
volumes. I have given them a careful perusal, and they have taken their
degree of classical books upon my shelves. De Foe was always my darling;
but what darkness was I in as to far the larger part of his writings! I
have now an epitome of them all. I think the way in which you have done
the "Life" the most judicious you could have pitched upon. You have made
him tell