Page 81, line 23. Brother, or sister, I never had any—­to know them.  Lamb is writing strictly as the imagined Elia, Elia being Lamb in mind rather than Lamb in fact.  It amused him to present his brother John and his sister Mary as his cousins James and Bridget Elia.  We have here an excellent example of his whimsical blending of truth and invention:  brothers and sisters he denies, yet admits one sister, Elizabeth, who died in both their infancies.  Lamb had in reality two sisters named Elizabeth, the former of whom he never knew.  She was born in 1762.  The second Elizabeth, his parents’ fifth child, was born in 1768, seven years before Charles.  Altogether the Lambs had seven children, of whom only John (born 1763), Mary Anne (born 1764) and Charles (born 1775) grew up.  Again Lamb confesses to several cousins in Hertfordshire, and to two others.  The two others were fictitious, but it was true that he had Hertfordshire relations (see the essay “Mackery End, in Hertfordshire").

John Lamb’s character is perhaps sufficiently described in this essay and in “Dream-Children.”  He was a well-to-do official in the South-Sea House, succeeding John Tipp as accountant.  Crabb Robinson found him too bluff and noisy to be bearable; and he once knocked Hazlitt down in a dispute about painting.  He died on October 26, 1821, to his brother’s great grief, leaving Charles everything.  He married late in life a Mrs. Dowden.  Probably she had her own money and needed none of her second husband’s.  Hence the peculiarity of the will.  Mrs. John Lamb died in 1826.

John Lamb’s sympathy with animals led him to write in 1810 a pamphlet entitled A Letter to the Right Hon. William Windham, on his opposition to Lord Erskine’s Bill for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals—­Mr. Windham having expressed it as his opinion that the subject was not one for legislation.  Lamb sent the pamphlet to Crabb Robinson on February 7, 1810, saying:—­“My Brother whom you have met at my rooms (a plump good looking man of seven and forty!) has written a book about humanity, which I transmit to you herewith.  Wilson the Publisher has put it in his head that you can get it Reviewed for him.  I dare say it is not in the scope of your Review—­but if you could put it into any likely train, he would rejoyce.  For alas! our boasted Humanity partakes of Vanity.  As it is, he teazes me to death with chusing to suppose that I could get it into all the Reviews at a moment’s notice.—­I!! who have been set up as a mark for them to throw at and would willingly consign them all to Hell flames and Megaera’s snaky locks.

“But here’s the Book—­and don’t shew it Mrs. Collier, for I remember she makes excellent Eel soup, and the leading points of the Book are directed against that very process.”

This is the passage—­one red-hot sentence—­concerning eels:—­