First printed in the Englishman’s Magazine, August, 1831.  Suidas is supposed to have lived in the tenth or eleventh century, and to have compiled a Lexicon—­a blend of biographical dictionary.

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Page 98. The Parting Speech of the Celestial Messenger to the Poet.

First printed in The Athenaeum, February 25, 1832.

Palingenius was an Italian poet of the sixteenth century, whose real name was Pietro Angelo Mazolli, but who wrote in Latin under the name of Marcellus Palingenius Stollatus.  His Zodiacus Vitae, a philosophical poem, was published in 1536.

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Page 99. Existence, considered in itself, no Blessing.  First printed in The Athenaeum, July 7, 1832.

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Page 100. To Samuel Rogers, Esq., on the New Edition of his “Pleasures of Memory."

First printed in The Times, December 13, 1833.  Signed C. Lamb.  This is the sonnet mentioned in the letter which is quoted on page 344, in the note to the sonnet to Stothard.  The new edition of Pleasures of Memory was published by Moxon in 1833, dated 1834.

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Page 101. To Clara N——­ .

First printed in The Athenaeum, July 26, 1834.  Clara N——­ was, of course, Clara Anastasia Novello, daughter of Lamb’s friend, Vincent Novello (1781-1861), the organist, and herself a fine soprano singer (see also the poem “The Sisters,” on the same page).  Miss Novello, who was born on June 10, 1818, became the Countess Gigliucci, and survived until March 12, 1908. Clara Novella’s Reminiscences, compiled by her daughter, the Contessa Valeria Gigliucci, with a memoir by Arthur Duke Coleridge, were published in 1910.  In them is this charming passage:—­

How I loved dear Charles Lamb!  I once hid—­to avoid the ignominy of going to bed—­in the upright (cabinet) pianoforte, which in its lowest part had a sort of tiny cupboard.  In this I fell asleep, awakening only when the party was supping.  My appearance from beneath the pianoforte was hailed with surprise by all, and with anger from my mother; but Charles Lamb not only took me under his protection, but obtained that henceforth I should never again be sent to bed when he came, but—­glory and delight!—­always sit up to supper.  Later, in Frith Street days, my Father made me sing to him one day; but [Lamb] stopped me, saying, “Clara, don’t make that d—­d noise!” for which, I think, I loved him as much as for all the rest.  Some verses he sent me were addressed to “St. Clara.”

In spite of Lamb’s declaration about himself and want of musical sense, both Crabb Robinson and Barron Field tell us that he was capable of humming tunes.

Page 101. The Sisters.

These verses, printed in Mr. W.C.  Hazlitt’s Lamb and Hazlitt, 1900, were addressed:—­