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Rudy looked fearless, his eyes sparkled whilst he spoke of the shrewdness of the chamois, of their daring leaps, of the violence of the Föhn and of the rolling avalanches. He observed that with every description he won more and more favour; but what pleased the miller more than all, was the account of the lamb's vulture and the bold golden eagle.
The quotation is a reference to Lamb's sonnet, "I was not Trained in Academic Bowers," written at Cambridge in 1819: Yet can I fancy, wandering 'mid thy towers, Myself a nursling, Granta, of thy lap; My brow seems tightening with the Doctor's cap, And I walk gownèd. Agnize. Lamb was fond of this word. I do agnise A natural and prompt alacrity. Red-letter days. See note on page 351.
In the reference to Wordsworth Lamb pokes fun at the statement, in his friend's preface to the second edition of Lyrical Ballads, that the purpose of that book was to relate or describe incidents and situations from common life as far as possible in a selection of language really used by men. Lamb's P.S. concerning the "Beggar's Petition" was followed in the London Magazine by this N.B.:
With MSS., however, it is different. Facsimiles, such as the Boston Bibliographical Society's edition of Lamb's letters, would serve for the rest of the world, and the originals should be in their author's native land. But that is a counsel of perfection. The only thing to do is to grin and bear it, and feel happy that these unique possessions are preserved with such loving pride and care.
"Blessed are they that wash their robes in the blood of the Lamb, that they may have right to the tree of life, and enter in through the gates into the City." 'Yes, said Mrs. Allonby when he had finished, 'when we come near the gates, Bobby, and all our life rises before us with all our sins, it is the thought of the Lamb's precious blood that brings us peace and courage.
She warmed some milk, dipped her fingers in it and put them into the lamb's mouth to see if it would suck. "I didn't know they'd do that," he said. "Oh, they'll suck anything. When you've had them a little time they'll climb into your lap like puppies and suck the buttons on your coat. Its mother's dead and we shall have to bring it up by hand." "I doubt if you will." "Oh yes, I shall save it.
'There is no doubt of the authorship of this play, writes Professer Gollancz in his notes to Lamb's Specimens, "J. S." is certainly an error for "E. S." I have found in a MS. in the British Museum Sir E. Sherburne's preface to this play. Professer Gollancz deserves credit for having unearthed the interesting document referred to, but an examination of it at once destroys his theory.
Just then the lamb stirred in its blanket; it opened its eyes and looked at her. She thought: "It's my lamb. It looked at me. It's my lamb and it's dying. My lamb's dying." The bad smell came again out of the blanket. She tried not to think of it. She wanted to sit down on the floor beside the lamb and lift it out of its blanket and nurse it; but Mamma wouldn't let her.
But the Dean adds: "Everything which does make us wiser and better is the very thing which Christianity intends." That is, Christianity means just what you like to find in it. How can a man of Dean Stanley's eminence and ability write such dishonest trash? Must we charitably, though with a touch of sarcasm, repeat Lamb's words of Coleridge "Never mind; it's only his fun?"
Only, I hope we shall be able to see our dinner, that's all because if it's invisible it'll be unfeelable as well, and then we can't eat it! I KNOW it will, because I tried to feel if I could feel the Lamb's chair, and there was nothing under him at all but air. And we can't eat air, and I feel just as if I hadn't had any breakfast for years and years.
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