in our prayer-books, for an hour or two, without sense of weariness." He
avoided manuscripts as much as practicable: "all things read _raw_ to me
in manuscript." Lamb wrote much, including many letters; but his hands
were wanting in pliancy ("inveterate clumsiness" are his words), and his
handwriting was therefore never good. It was neither text nor running
hand, and the letters did not indicate any fluency; it was not the
handwriting of an old man nor of a young man; yet it had a very peculiar
character--stiff, resolute, distinct; quite unlike all others that I have
seen, and easily distinguishable amongst a thousand.

No one has described Lamb's manner or merits so well as Hazlitt: "He
always made the best pun and the best remark in the course of the evening.
His serious conversation, like his serious writing, is his best. No one
ever stammered out such fine piquant, deep, eloquent things, in half a
dozen sentences, as he does. His jests scald like tears; and he probes a
question with a play upon words. There was no fuss or cant about him. He
has furnished many a text for Coleridge to preach upon." (_I. Plain
Speaker._) Charles was frequently merry; but ever, at the back of his
merriment, there reposed a grave depth, in which rich colors and tender
lights were inlaid. For his jests sprang from his sensibility; which was
as open to pleasure as to pain. This sensibility, if it somewhat impaired
his vigor, led him into curious and delicate fancies, and taught him a
liking for things of the highest relish, which a mere robust jester never
tastes.

Large, sounding words, unless embodying great thoughts (as in the case of
Lear), he did not treasure up or repeat. He was an admirer of what was
high and good, of what was delicate (especially); but he delighted most to
saunter along the humbler regions, where kindness of heart and geniality
of humor made the way pleasant. His intellect was very quick, piercing