I have published a little
book for children on titles of honor; and to give them some idea of the
difference of rank and gradual rising, I have made a little scale,
supposing myself to receive the following various accessions of dignity
from the king, who is the fountain of honor,--as at first, 1, Mr. C.
Lamb; 2, C. Lamb, Esq.; 3, Sir C. Lamb, Bart.; 4, Baron Lamb, of
Stamford; 5, Viscount Lamb; 6, Earl Lamb; 7, Marquis Lamb; 8, Duke Lamb.
It would look like quibbling to carry it on farther, and especially as
it is not necessary for children to go beyond the ordinary titles of
sub-regal dignity in our own country, otherwise I have sometimes in my
dreams imagined myself still advancing, as 9th, King Lamb; 10th, Emperor
Lamb; 11th, Pope Innocent,--higher than which is nothing. Puns I have
not made many (nor punch much) since the date of my last; one I cannot
help relating. A constable in Salisbury Cathedral was telling me that
eight people dined at the top of the spire of the cathedral; upon which
I remarked that they must be very sharp-set. But in general I cultivate
the reasoning part of my mind more than the imaginative. I am stuffed
out so with eating turkey for dinner, and another turkey for supper
yesterday (turkey in Europe and turkey in Asia), that I can't jog on. It
is New Year here. That is, it was New Year half a year back, when I was
writing this.
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