e and massy divinity," his "kind-hearted
play-books," his book of "Songs and Posies," his rare old treatises, and
quaint and curious tractates,--the rich gleanings from the old London
book-stalls by one who knew a good book, as Falstaff knew the Prince, by
instinct,--books that had been the solace and delight of his life, the
inspirers and prompters of his best and noblest thoughts, the food of
his mind, and the nourishers of his fancies, ideas, and feelings,--these
books, with the exception of those retained by some of Elia's personal
friends, were, after Mary Lamb's death, purchased by an enterprising
New-York bookseller, and shipped to America, where Lamb has ever had
more readers and truer appreciators than in England. The arrival in New
York of his "shivering folios" created quite a sensation among the
Cisatlantic admirers of "the gentle Elia." The lovers of rare old books
and the lovers of Charles Lamb jostled each other in the way to Bartlett
and Welford's shop, where the treasures (having escaped the perils of
the sea) were safely housed, and where a crowd of _literati_ was
constantly engaged in examining them.

The sale was attended by a goodly company of book-collectors and
book-readers. All the works brought fair prices, and were purchased by
(or for) persons in various parts of the country. Among the bidders were
(I am told) Geoffrey Crayon,--Mr. Sparrowgrass,--Clark, of the
"Knickerbocker" magazine,--that lover of the angle and true disciple of
Izaak Walton, the late Rev. Dr. Bethune,--Burton, the comedian,--and
other well-known authors, actors, and divines. The black-letter
Chaucer--Speght's edition, folio, London, 1598,--the identical copy
spoken of by Elia in his letter to Ainsworth, the novelist--was knocked
down to Burton for twenty-five dollars. I know not who was the fortunate
purchaser of "The Works of Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of
Newcastle,"--an especial favorite of Lamb's. Neither do I know the name
of the buyer of "The Works of Michael Drayton." They brought
twenty-eight dollars. A number of volumes (one of them my correspondent
opines was "The Dunciad," _variorum_ edition) were bought by an
enthusiastic lover of Elia who came all the way from St. Louis on
purpose to attend this auction. The English nation should have purchased
Lamb's library. But instead of comfortably filling an alcove or two in
the British Museum, it crossed the Atlantic and was widely scattered
over the United States of Ame