letters, notably by one written in 1796, in which he says:

'O my friend, cultivate the filial feelings! and let no man think
himself released from the kind charities of relationship: these shall
give him peace at the last; these are the best foundation for every
species of benevolence. I rejoice to hear that you are reconciled with
all your relations.'

This surely is as valuable an 'aid to reflection' as any supplied by
the Highgate seer.

Lamb gave but little thought to the wonderful difference between the
'reason' and the 'understanding.' He preferred old plays--an odd diet.
some may think, on which to feed the virtues; but, however that may
be, the noble fact remains, that he, poor, frail boy! (for he was no
more, when trouble first assailed him) stooped down and, without sigh
or sign, took upon his own shoulders the whole burden of a life-long
sorrow.

Coleridge married. Lamb, at the bidding of duty, remained single,
wedding himself to the sad fortunes of his father and sister. Shall we
pity him? No; he had his reward--the surpassing reward that is only
within the power of literature to bestow. It was Lamb, and not
Coleridge, who wrote 'Dream-Children: a Reverie':

'Then I told how for seven long years, in hope sometimes, sometimes in
despair, yet persisting ever, I courted the fair Alice W----n; and as
much as children could understand, I explained to them what coyness
and difficulty and denial meant in maidens--when, suddenly turning to
Alice, the soul of the first Alice looked out at her eyes with such a