bow. His hair was black and sleek, but not formal, and
his face the gravest I ever saw, but indicating great intellect,
and resembling very much the portraits of Charles I."

From this sprightly and not too flattering sketch we may turn to
Serjeant Talfourd's tender and charming portrait,--slightly idealized,
no doubt; for the man of the coif held a brief for his friend, and was a
poet besides:--

"Methinks I see him before me now as he appeared then,
and as he continued without any perceptible alteration to me,
during the twenty years of intimacy which followed, and were
closed by his death. A light frame, so fragile that it seemed
as if a breath would overthrow it, clad in clerk-like black,
was surmounted by a head of form and expression the most
noble and sweet. His black hair curled crisply about an
expanded forehead; his eyes, softly brown, twinkled with
varying expression, though the prevalent expression was
sad; and the nose, slightly curved, and delicately carved at
the nostril, with the lower outline of the face delicately oval,
completed a head which was finely placed upon the shoulders,
and gave importance and even dignity to a diminutive and
shadowy stem. Who shall describe his countenance, catch its
quivering sweetness, and fix it forever in words? There are
none, alas! to answer the vain desire of friendship. Deep
thought, striving with humor; the lines of suffering wreathed
into cordial mirth, and a smile of painful sweetness, present
an image to the mind it can as little describe as lose. His
personal appearance and manner are not unjustly characterized
by what he himself says in one of his letters to Manning, [1]