upon in the light of a child; and Charles Lamb, when speaking of her (and
he did this always tenderly), used invariably to call her "Our Emma." To
show how deep his regard was, he at one time was invited to engage in some
profitable engagement (1830) whilst Miss Isola was in bad health; but he
at once replied, "Whilst she is in danger, and till she is out of it, I
feel that I have no spirits for an engagement of any kind." Some years
afterwards, when she became well, and was about to be married, Lamb
writes, "I am about to lose my only walk companion," whose mirthful
spirits (as he prettily terms it) were "the youth of our house." "With my
perfect approval, and more than concurrence," as he states, she was to be
married to Mr. Moxon. Miss Emma Isola, who was, in Charles Lamb's phrase,
"a very dear friend of ours," remained his friend till death, and became
eventually his principal legatee. After her marriage, Charles, writing to
her husband (November, 1833), says, "Tell Emma I every day love her more,
and miss her less. Tell her so, from her loving Uncle, as she has let me
call myself." It was, as I believe, a very deep paternal affection.

The particulars disclosed by the letters of 1823 and 1824 are so generally
unimportant, that it is unnecessary to refer to them. Lamb, indeed, became
acquainted with the author of "Virginius" (Sheridan Knowles), with Mr.
Macready, and with the writers in the "London Magazine" (which then had
not been long established). And he appears gradually to discover that his
work at the India House is wearisome, and complains of it in bitter terms:
"Thirty years have I served the Philistines" (he writes to Wordsworth),
"and my neck is not subdued to the yoke." He confesses that he had once
hoped to have a pension on "this side of absolute incapacity and
infirmity," and to have walked out in the "fine Isaac Walton mornings,
careless as a beggar, and walking, walking, and dying walking;" but he
says, "the hope is gone. I sit like Philomel all day (but not singing),
with my breast against this thorn of a desk."