Works of Charles and Mary Lamb. VI-VII. Letters
Charles Lamb to Thomas Manning, 19 February 1803
[Dated at end: Feb. 19th, 1803.]
MY dear Manning,—The general scope of your letter afforded no
indications of insanity, but some particular points raised a scruple. For
God’s sake don’t think any more of “Independent
Tartary.” What have you to do among such Ethiopians? Is there no lineal descendant of Prester
John?
Is the chair empty? Is the sword unswayed?—depend
upon’t they’ll never make you their king, as long as any branch of
that great stock is remaining. I tremble for your Christianity. They’ll
certainly circumcise you. Read Sir John
Maundevil’s travels to cure you, or come over to England.
There is a Tartar-man now exhibiting at Exeter Change. Come and talk with him,
and hear what he says first. Indeed, he is no very favorable specimen of his
Countrymen! But perhaps the best thing you can do, is to try to get the idea
out of your head. For this purpose repeat to yourself every night, after you
have said your prayers, the words Independent Tartary, Independent Tartary, two
or three times, and associate with them the idea of
oblivion (’tis Hartley’s method with obstinate memories), or say,
Independent, Independent, have I not already got an Independence? That was a clever way of the old puritans—pun-divinity.
My dear friend, think what a sad pity it would be to bury such parts in heathen
countries, among nasty, unconversable, horse-belching, Tartar people! Some say,
they are Cannibals; and then conceive a Tartar-fellow eating my friend, and
adding the cool malignity of mustard and vinegar! I am afraid ’tis the
reading of Chaucer has misled you; his
foolish
stories about Cambuscan and the ring, and the horse of brass.
Believe me, there’s no such things, ’tis all the poet’s invention; but if there were such darling things as old
Chaucer sings, I would up behind you on the Horse of
Brass, and frisk off for Prester
John’s Country. But these are all tales; a Horse of Brass
never flew, and a King’s daughter never talked with Birds! The Tartars,
really, are a cold, insipid, smouchey set. You’ll be sadly moped (if you
are not eaten) among them. Pray try and cure yourself. Take Hellebore (the
counsel is Horace’s, ’twas none
of my thought originally). Shave yourself oftener. Eat
no saffron, for saffron-eaters contract a terrible Tartar-like yellow. Pray, to
avoid the fiend. Eat nothing that gives the heart-burn. Shave
the upper lip. Go about like an European. Read no books of voyages
(they’re nothing but lies): only now and then a Romance, to keep the
fancy under. Above all, don’t go to any sights of wild
beasts. That has been your ruin. Accustom
yourself to write familiar letters on common subjects to your friends in
England, such as are of a moderate understanding. And think about common things
more. There’s your friend Holcroft
now, has written a play. You
used to be fond of the drama. Nobody went to see it. Notwithstanding this, with
an audacity perfectly original, he faces the town down in a preface, that they
did like it very much. I have heard a waspish
punster say, “Sir, why did you not laugh at my jest?” But
for a man boldly to face me out with, “Sir, I maintain it, you did
laugh at my jest,” is a little too much. I have seen
H. but once. He spoke of you to me in honorable terms.
H. seems to me to be drearily dull. Godwin is dull, but then he has a dash of
affectation, which smacks of the coxcomb, and your coxcombs are always
agreeable. I supped last night with Rickman, and met a merry natural captain, who pleases himself vastly with once having made a Pun
at Otaheite in the O. language. ’Tis the same man who said Shakspeare he liked, because he was so much of the Gentleman. Rickman is a
man “absolute in all numbers.” I think I may one day bring
you acquainted, if you do not go to Tartary first; for you’ll never come
back. Have a care, my dear friend, of Anthropophagi! their stomachs are always
craving. But if you do go among [them] pray contrive to stink as soon as you
can that you may [?not] hang a [?on] hand at the Butcher’s. ’Tis
terrible to be weighed out for 5d. a-pound. To sit at table (the reverse of
fishes in Holland), not as a guest, but as a meat.
God bless you: do come to England. Air and exercise may do
great things. Talk with some Minister. Why not your father?
God dispose all for the best. I have discharged my duty.
Your sincere frd,
C. Lamb.
19th Feb., 1803, London.
James Burney (1750-1821)
The brother of Fanny Burney; he sailed with Captain Cook and wrote about his voyages, and
in later life was a friend of Charles Lamb and other literary people.
Geoffrey Chaucer (1340 c.-1400)
English Poet, the author of
The Canterbury Tales (1390 c.).
William Godwin (1756-1836)
English novelist and political philosopher; author of
An Inquiry
concerning the Principles of Political Justice (1793) and
Caleb
Williams (1794); in 1797 he married Mary Wollstonecraft.
David Hartley (1705-1757)
English philosopher and physician educated at Jesus College, Cambridge; he published
Observations on Man, his Frame, his Duty, and his Expectations
(1749).
Thomas Holcroft (1745-1809)
English playwright and novelist; a friend of William Godwin indicted for treason in 1794;
author of
The Road to Ruin (1792). His
Memoirs (1816) were completed by William Hazlitt.
Horace (65 BC-8 BC)
Roman lyric poet; author of
Odes,
Epistles, Satires, and the
Ars Poetica.
Sir John Mandeville (1357 fl.)
Pseudonym employed in a collection of travels to Jerusalem and the East, originally
composed in French.
Thomas Manning (1772-1840)
Educated at Caius College, Cambridge, he traveled in China and Tibet, and was a life-long
friend of Charles Lamb.
John Rickman (1771-1840)
Educated at Magdalen Hall and Lincoln College, Oxford, he was statistician and clerk to
the House of Commons and an early friend of Charles Lamb and Robert Southey.