himself to himself; he was never C. L., he declared, but always C. L. and Co.  He had, indeed, something of a genius for friendship; however much he might wish to be alone, he was, there can be little doubt, ever genial, ever his wise and whimsical self, even when suffering under the untimely advent of “Mr. Hazlitt, Mr. Martin Burney, or Morgan Demigorgon”; he had to suffer—­or imagine that he suffered—­from the effects of a personal charm of which he was wholly unaware; but if he had not been so friendlily accessible the world would probably have lacked record of many of the delightful hints which help towards our realization of one of the most attractive personalities in our literary history.

[Illustration:  Sketch of Charles Lamb at the age of forty-four. 
     By G. F. Joseph, A.R.A. 
From the original in the Print Room of the British Museum.]

Lamb was already in middle age—­in his forty-sixth year—­when there came to him an opportunity of expressing himself in the way best suited to his genius.  Early in 1820 there was started a new periodical under the simple title of “The London Magazine.”  Several of Lamb’s friends were among the contributors, and he also was probably invited to write for it at an early date.  His first contribution appeared in the number for August signed “Elia” (call it “Ellia,” said he), the name having occurred to Lamb’s memory as that of a whilom fellow-clerk of his thirty years earlier at the South Sea House; for several years he continued his contributions to this remarkable miscellany, finding in the personal informal essay the most congenial medium for expressing his mature wisdom, his whimsical humour, his radiant wit.  By the close of 1822 there were essays enough to make a volume, and in 1823, such duly appeared.  Even with this Lamb was not to touch popularity—­it may be doubted whether he ever did that in his lifetime.  He was known, admired, loved by a large circle of friends and acquaintances, but his work made little impression, we may believe, upon the wider reading public; it was, however, fully appreciated by those of his contemporaries best able to judge, and “Elia” came to be recognized as one of the literary mainstays of a magazine which counted among its contributors, De Quincey, Allan Cunningham, B. W. Procter, William Hazlitt, Hartley Coleridge, Horace Smith, and many more writers of note in their day.

Little more than six months after Lamb’s first essay signed “Elia” had appeared in the “London,” the editor of that magazine was wounded in a duel and died, and in the summer of 1821 the periodical changed hands, but retained its brilliant staff of contributors, and acquired the services of Thomas Hood, then a young man of two-and-twenty, as a “sort of sub-editor.”  The new proprietors gave monthly dinners to their writers, and here Lamb would meet some of his old friends and many new.  Hood has recorded his first meeting with Elia in the offices of the magazine, and his account may be quoted, affording as it does something like a glimpse of Lamb in his habit as he lived at the time of the full maturity of his powers: