Thank you, dear Jane, for the happy tidings that my old friend Miss Bangham is alive, an[d] that Mary is still with you, unmarried. Heaven bless you all.
Love to Mother, Betsey, Mary, &c. How I do long to see you.
I am always your affecately grateful friend,
MARY ANN LAMB.
Miss JAMES TO JANE NORRIS
41 Alpha Road, Regent’s Park,
London, July 25, 1843.
Madam,—Miss Lamb, having seen the Death of your dear Mother in the Times News Paper, is most anxious to hear from or to see one of you, as she wishes to know how you intend settling yourselves, and to have a full account of your dear Mother’s last illness. She was much shocked on reading of her death, and appeared very vexed that she had not been to see her, [and] wanted very much to come down and see you both; but we were really afraid to let her take the journey. If either of you are coming up to town, she would be glad if you would call upon her, but should you not be likely to come soon, she would be very much pleased if one of you would have the goodness to write a few lines to her, as she is most anxious about you. She begs you to excuse her writing to you herself, as she don’t feel equal to it; she asked me yesterday to write for her. I am happy to say she is at present pretty well, although your dear Mother’s death appears to dwell much upon her mind. She desires her kindest love to you both, and hopes to hear from you very soon, if you are equal to writing. I sincerely hope you will oblige her, and am,
Your obedient, &c.,
Pray don’t invite her to come down to see you.
CONSISTING OF THE LONGER PASSAGES FROM BOOKS REFERRED TO BY LAMB IN HIS LETTERS
BERNARD BARTON’S “THE SPIRITUAL LAW”
FROM DEVOTIONAL VERSES, 1826 (See Letter 388, page 746)
“But the word is very nigh unto thee, in thy mouth, and in thy heart, that them mayest do it.”—Deut. xxx. 14.
not The law divine
Is hidden from thee, or far remov’d:
That law within would shine,
If there its glorious light were sought and lov’d.
not on high,
Nor ask who thence shall bring it down to earth;
That vaulted sky
Hath no such star, didst thou but know its worth.
launch thy bark
In search thereof upon a shoreless sea,
Which has no ark,
No dove to bring this olive-branch to thee.
do not roam
In search of that which wandering cannot win;
At home! At home!
That word is plac’d, thy mouth, thy heart within.