To Mrs. H., of a person eccentric: "Why does not his guardian angel look
to him? He deserves one--may be he has tired him out."

"Charles," said Coleridge to Lamb, "I think you have heard me preach?" "I
n--n--never heard you do anything else," replied Lamb.

One evening Coleridge had consumed the whole time in talking of some
"regenerated" orthodoxy. Leigh Hunt, who was one of the listeners, on
leaving the house, expressed his surprise at the prodigality and intensity
of Coleridge's religious expressions. Lamb tranquillized him by "Ne-ne-
never mind what Coleridge says; he's full of fun."

There were, &c., &c., "and at the top of all, Hunger (eldest, strongest of
the Passions), predominant, breaking down the stony fences of shame."

The Bank, the India House, and other rich traders look insultingly on the
old deserted South Sea House, as on "their poor neighbor out of business."

To a Frenchman, setting up Voltaire's character in opposition to that of
Christ, Lamb asserted that "Voltaire was a very good Jesus Christ--_for
the French._"

Of a Scotchman: "His understanding is always at its meridian. Between the
affirmative and the negative there is no border land with him. You cannot
hover with him on the confines of truth."

On a book of Coleridge's nephew he writes, "I confess he has more of the
Sterne about him than the Sternhold. But he saddens into excellent sense
before the conclusion."