in snuff-color, but latterly his costume was inveterately black--with
gaiters which seemed longing for something more substantial to close in.
His legs were remarkably slight; so indeed was his whole body, which was
of short stature, but surmounted by a head of amazing fineness. His face
was deeply marked and full of noble lines--traces of sensibility,
imagination, suffering, and much thought. His wit was in his eye,
luminous, quick, and restless. The smile that played about his mouth was
ever cordial and good-humored; and the most cordial and delightful of its
smiles were those with which he accompanied his affectionate talk with his
sister, or his jokes against her.

* * * * *

TALFOURD.

[_From Talfourd's "Memorials of C. Lamb,"_ pp. 337-8, 342-3.]

Except to the few who were acquainted with the tragical occurrences of
Lamb's early life, some of his peculiarities seemed strange,--to be
forgiven, indeed, to the excellences of his nature and the delicacy of his
genius,--but still, in themselves, as much to be wondered at as deplored.
The sweetness of his character, breathed through his writings, was felt
even by strangers; but its heroic aspect was unguessed even by many of his
friends. Let them now consider it, and ask if the annals of self-sacrifice
can show anything in human action and endurance more lovely than its self-
devotion exhibits! It was not merely that he saw through the ensanguined
cloud of misfortune which had fallen upon his family, the unstained
excellence of his sister, whose madness had caused it; that he was ready
to take her to his own home with reverential affection, and cherish her
through life; that he gave up, for her sake, all meaner and more selfish