Mention nothing of poetry, I have destroyed every vestige of
past vanities of that kind. Do as you please, but if you
publish, publish mine (I give free leave) without name or
initial, and never send me a book, I charge you.

Your own judgment will convince you not to take any notice
of this yet to your dear wife. You look after your family; I
have my reason and strength left to take care of mine, I
charge you, don't think of coming to see me. Write. I will
not see you if you come. God Almighty love you and all of
us!

C. LAMB.

At the inquest the only possible verdict was returned, that of
homicide during temporary insanity, against the young woman who, in
her frenzy, had killed her own mother and destroyed a home which she
had been working hard, as a mantua maker, to help support. The awful
shock had, perhaps, a steadying effect on Charles Lamb. Here he was at
the age of one-and-twenty suddenly placed in a position that might
have tried a strong-minded man in his prime; his brother, a dozen
years his senior, so far as we are aware mixed himself as little as
might be with the family tragedy; poor Mary had to be placed in an
asylum and supported there, and a pledge taken for her future
safe-guarding, while in the home a physically feeble old aunt and a
mentally feeble old father had to be looked after and companioned.
Humbly and unhesitatingly he who was but little more than a youth in
years took up a task which it is painful even to contemplate; the
simple spirit in which he did so may be realized from a noble letter