DR R.—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 in 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 Megæra’s snaky locks.
| 412 | LETTERS OF C. AND M. LAMB | Feb. |
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.
