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diff --git a/old/56166-h/56166-h.htm b/old/56166-h/56166-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 6b5d1fe..0000000 --- a/old/56166-h/56166-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11204 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> -<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Word Portraits of Famous Writers, by Mabel E. (Mabel Elizabeth) Wotton</title> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2,h3,h4 { - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;} -.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;} -.ph3 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} - -div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} -div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} -hr.tiny {width: 20%; margin-left: 40%; margin-right: 40%;} - -.hangingindent { - padding-left: 22px ; - text-indent: -22px ; -} - - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - - -.pagenum { - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} - - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 20%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -.sidenote { - width: 15%; - text-align: center; - padding-bottom: .5em; - padding-top: .5em; - padding-left: .5em; - padding-right: .5em; - margin-right: 1em; - float: left; - clear: left; - margin-top: 0em; - font-size: smaller; - color: black; - /* background: #eeeeee;*/ - /* border: dashed 1px;*/ -} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - - -.indent {padding-left: 7em;} -.indent1 {text-align: right; padding-right: 7em;} - - -.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} - -.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} - -.fnanchor { - vertical-align: super; - font-size: .8em; - text-decoration: - none; -} - -.poetry-container {text-align: center;} -.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} -.poetry .verse {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;} -.poetry .verseright {text-align: right;} -.poetry .indent {text-indent: -2em} -.poetry .indent1 {text-indent: 2em} -.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: 7em} - -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - - hr.full { width: 100%; - margin-top: 3em; - margin-bottom: 0em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - height: 4px; - border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ - border-style: solid; - border-color: #000000; - clear: both; } - </style> -</head> -<body> -<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Word Portraits of Famous Writers, Edited by -Mabel E. (Mabel Elizabeth) Wotton</h1> -<p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at <a -href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you are not -located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this ebook.</p> -<p>Title: Word Portraits of Famous Writers</p> -<p>Editor: Mabel E. (Mabel Elizabeth) Wotton</p> -<p>Release Date: December 11, 2017 [eBook #56166]</p> -<p>Language: English</p> -<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> -<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORD PORTRAITS OF FAMOUS WRITERS***</p> -<p> </p> -<h4>E-text prepared by David E. Brown<br /> - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> - (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> - from page images generously made available by<br /> - Internet Archive<br /> - (<a href="https://archive.org">https://archive.org</a>)</h4> -<p> </p> -<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> - <tr> - <td valign="top"> - Note: - </td> - <td> - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - <a href="https://archive.org/details/wordportraitsoff00wottrich"> - https://archive.org/details/wordportraitsoff00wottrich</a> - </td> - </tr> -</table> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h1>WORD PORTRAITS<br /> - -OF<br /> - -FAMOUS WRITERS</h1> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<div class="titlepage"> -<p class="ph1">WORD PORTRAITS</p> - -<p>OF</p> - -<p class="ph2">FAMOUS WRITERS</p> - -<p><small>EDITED BY</small><br /> -MABEL E. WOTTON</p> - -<p><small>‘What manner of man is he?’</small><br /> - -<span class="indent"><small><i>Twelfth Night</i></small></span></p> - -<p>LONDON<br /> -RICHARD BENTLEY & SON<br /> -Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen<br /> -1887</p> -</div> - - - - - - - -<p class="center"><i>Printed by</i> <span class="smcap">R. & R. Clark</span>, <i>Edinburgh</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i-005f.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">INTRODUCTION</h2></div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> world has always been fond of -personal details respecting men who have -been celebrated.” These were the words of -Lord Beaconsfield, and with them he prefixed -his description of the personal appearance of -Isaac D’Israeli; but we hardly need the -dictum of our greatest statesman to convince -ourselves that at all events every honest -literature-lover takes a very real interest in -the individuality of those men whose names -are perpetually on his lips. It is not enough -for such a one merely to make himself -familiar with their writings. It does not -suffice for him that the <i>Essays of Elia</i>, for -instance, can be got by heart, but he feels that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span> -he must also be able to linger in the playground -at Christ’s with the “lame-footed -boy,” and in after years pace the Temple -gardens with the gentle-faced scholar, before -he can properly be said to have made Lamb’s -thoughts his own. At the best it is but a -very incomplete notion that most of us -possess as to the actual personality of even -the most prominent of our British writers. -The almost womanly beauty of Sidney, and -the keen eyes and razor face of Pope, would, -perhaps, be recognised as easily as the well-known -form of Dr. Johnson; but taking them -<i>en masse</i> even a widely-read man might be -forgiven if, from amongst the scraps of hearsay -and curtly-recorded impressions on which -at rare intervals he may alight, he cannot -very readily conjure up the ghosts of the -very men whose books he has studied, and to -whose haunts he has been an eager pilgrim.</p> - -<p>Such a power the following pages have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span> -attempted to supply. They contain an -account of the face, figure, dress, voice, and -manner of our best-known writers ranging -from Geoffrey Chaucer to Mrs. Henry Wood,—drawn -in all cases when it is possible by -their contemporaries, and when through lack -of material this endeavour has failed, the task -of portrait-painting has devolved either on -other writers who owed their inspiration to -the offices of a mutual friend, or on those -whose literary ability and untiring research -have qualified them for the task. Infinite -toil has not always been rewarded, and it -would be easy to supply at least half a dozen -names whose absence is to be regretted. -Beaumont and Fletcher are as much read as -Thomas Otway, and William Wotton has -perhaps as much right of entrance as his -famous opponent Richard Bentley, but as a -small child pointed out when the book was first -proposed: “<i>You can’t find what isn’t there.</i>”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span> -And the worth of the book naturally consists -in keeping to the lines already indicated.</p> - -<p>An asterisk placed under the given -reference means that the writer of that -particular portrait (who is not necessarily the -writer of that particular book) did not -actually see his subject, but that he is describing -a picture, or else that he is building -up one from substantiated evidence. Sometimes, -as in the case of Suckling, this distinction -leads to the same book supplying two -portraits, only one of which is at first hand.</p> - -<p>When a date is placed at the foot of a -description, it refers to the appearance presented -at that time, and not to the period -when the words were penned.</p> - -<p>British writers only are named, and -amongst them there is of course no living -author.</p> - -<p>Chaucer’s birth-date has been given as -<i>About</i> 1340, for the traditional year of 1328<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span> -is based on little more than the inscription on -his tomb, which was not placed there until the -middle of the sixteenth century, while according -to his own deposition as witness, his -birth could not have taken place until about -twelve years later.</p> - -<p>In only one other instance has there been -a departure from recognised precedent, and -that is in the case of Thomas de Quincey. -In defiance of almost every compiler and -present-day writer, I have entered the -name in the Q’s and spelt it as here written. -The reason for this is threefold: First, he -himself invariably spelt his name with a -small d. Second, Hood, Wordsworth, and -Lamb, and, I believe, all his other contemporaries -did the same. Third, de Quincey -himself was so determined about the matter -that he actually dropped the prefix altogether -for some little time, and was known as Mr. -Quincey. “His name I write with a small d<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a></span> -in the de, as he wrote it himself. He would -not have wished it indexed among the D’s, -but the Q’s,” wrote the Rev. Francis Jacox, -who was one of his Lasswade friends, and in -spite of his recent and skilful biographers, it -must be conceded that after all the little man -had the greatest right to his own name.</p> - -<p>I am glad to take this opportunity of -thanking those who have helped me, and who -will not let me speak my thanks direct. It -is a pleasant thought that while working -amongst the literary men of the past, I have -received nothing but kindness from those of -to-day. First and foremost to Mr. George -Augustus Sala, to whom I am infinitely indebted; -also to Mrs. Huntingford, Mrs. and -Mr. Frederick Chapman, Mr. Henry M. -Trollope, Dr. W. F. Fitz-Patrick, and Mr. -S. C. Hall: to all these, as well as to my -own personal friends, I offer my hearty and -sincere thanks.</p> - -<p class="right">M. E. W.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2></div> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - -<tr><td> </td><td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Joseph Addison</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Harrison Ainsworth</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_4">4</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Jane Austen</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Francis, Lord Bacon</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Joanna Baillie</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Benjamin, Lord Beaconsfield</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Jeremy Bentham</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Richard Bentley</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">James Boswell</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Charlotte Brontë</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Henry, Lord Brougham</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Elizabeth Barrett Browning</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">John Bunyan</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Edmund Burke</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Robert Burns</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Samuel Butler</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">George, Lord Byron</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Thomas Campbell</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Thomas Carlyle</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_55">55</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</a></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Thomas Chatterton</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Geoffrey Chaucer</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Philip, Lord Chesterfield</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">William Cobbett</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Hartley Coleridge</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Samuel Taylor Coleridge</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">William Collins</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">William Cowper</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">George Crabbe</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Daniel De Foe</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Charles Dickens</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Isaac D’Israeli</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">John Dryden</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Mary Anne Evans</span> (<span class="smcap">George Eliot</span>)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Henry Fielding</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">John Gay</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Edward Gibbon</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">William Godwin</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Oliver Goldsmith</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">David Gray</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Thomas Gray</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Henry Hallam</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">William Hazlitt</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Felicia Hemans</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">James Hogg</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_128">128</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</a></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Thomas Hood</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_130">130</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Theodore Hook</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">David Hume</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Leigh Hunt</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_139">139</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Elizabeth Inchbald</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Francis, Lord Jeffrey</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Douglas Jerrold</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Samuel Johnson</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Ben Jonson</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">John Keats</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">John Keble</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Charles Kingsley</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Charles Lamb</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Letitia Elizabeth Landon</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Walter Savage Landor</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_174">174</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Charles Lever</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_177">177</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Matthew Gregory Lewis</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">John Gibson Lockhart</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sir Richard Lovelace</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_181">181</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Edward, Lord Lytton</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Thomas Babington Macaulay</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">William Maginn</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Francis Mahony</span> (<span class="smcap">Father Prout</span>)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Frederick Marryat</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Harriet Martineau</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_202">202</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">[Pg xvi]</a></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Frederick Denison Maurice</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">John Milton</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_207">207</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Mary Russell Mitford</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Lady Mary Wortley Montagu</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Thomas Moore</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Hannah More</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sir Thomas More</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_224">224</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Caroline Norton</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Thomas Otway</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Samuel Pepys</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_232">232</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Alexander Pope</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Bryan Waller Procter</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Thomas de Quincey</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_238">238</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Ann Radcliffe</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_243">243</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sir Walter Raleigh</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_244">244</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Charles Reade</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Samuel Richardson</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_251">251</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Samuel Rogers</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_254">254</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Dante Gabriel Rossetti</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Richard Savage</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_262">262</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sir Walter Scott</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">William Shakespeare</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_275">275</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Percy Bysshe Shelley</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_277">277</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Richard Brinsley Sheridan</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_282">282</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[Pg xvii]</a></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sir Philip Sidney</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Horace Smith</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_286">286</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sydney Smith</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Tobias Smollett</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_289">289</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Robert Southey</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_290">290</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Edmund Spenser</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Arthur Penrhyn Stanley</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sir Richard Steele</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_299">299</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Laurence Sterne</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sir John Suckling</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_304">304</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Jonathan Swift</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_305">305</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">William Makepeace Thackeray</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_308">308</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">James Thomson</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_311">311</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Anthony Trollope</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_313">313</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Edmund Waller</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_317">317</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Horace Walpole</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_319">319</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Izaac Walton</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_323">323</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">John Wilson</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_324">324</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Ellen Wood</span> (<span class="smcap">Mrs. Henry Wood</span>)</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_330">330</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">William Wordsworth</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_332">332</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sir Henry Wotton</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_335">335</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[Pg xviii]</a></span></p> -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">JOSEPH ADDISON<br /> - -<small>1672-1719</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Temple Bar</i>,<br /> -1874.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Of</span> his personal appearance we have at least -two portraits by good hands. Before us are -three carefully-engraved portraits -of him, but there is a great dissimilarity -between the three except in the -wig. Sir Godfrey Kneller painted one of -these portraits, which is entirely unlike the -two others; let us, however, give Sir Godfrey -the credit of the best picture, and judge -Addison’s appearance from that. The wig -almost prevents our judging the shape of the -head, yet it seems very high behind. The -forehead is very lofty, the sort of forehead -which is called ‘commanding’ by those -people who do not know that some of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> -least decided men in the world have had -high foreheads. The eyebrows are delicately -‘pencilled,’ yet show a vast deal of vigour -and expression; they are what his old Latin -friends, who knew so well the power of expression -in the eyebrow, would have called -‘supercilious,’ and yet the nasal end of the -supercilium is only slightly raised, and it -droops pleasantly at the temporal end, so -that there is nothing Satanic or ill-natured -about it. The eyebrow of Addison, according -to Kneller, seems to say, ‘You are a greater -fool than you think yourself to be, but I -would die sooner than tell you so.’ The eye, -which is generally supposed to convey so -much expression, but which very often does -not, is very much like the eyes of other -amiable and talented people. The nose is -long, as becomes an orthodox Whig; quite -as long, we should say, as the nose of any -member of Peel’s famous long-nosed ministry, -and quite as delicately chiselled. The mouth -is very tender and beautiful, firm, yet with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> -delicate curve upwards at each end of the -upper lip, suggestive of a good joke, and of a -calm waiting to hear if any man is going to -beat it. Below the mouth there follows of -course the nearly inevitable double chin of -the eighteenth century, with a deep incision -in the centre of the jaw-bone, which shows -through the flesh like a dimple. On the -whole a singularly handsome and pleasant -face, wanting the wonderful form which one -sees in the faces of Shakespeare, Prior, Congreve, -Castlereagh, Byron, or Napoleon, but -still extremely fine of its own.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Johnson’s<br /> -<i>Lives of the<br /> -Poets</i>.</div> - - -<p>“Of his habits, or external manners, nothing -is so often mentioned as that timorous or -sullen taciturnity, which his friends -called modesty by too mild a name. -Steele mentions, with great tenderness, -‘that remarkable bashfulness, which is a -cloak that hides and muffles merit;’ and tells -us ‘that his abilities were covered only by -modesty, which doubles the beauties which -are seen, and gives credit and esteem to all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> -that are concealed.’ Chesterfield affirms that -‘Addison was the most timorous and awkward -man that he ever saw.’ And Addison, -speaking of his own deficiency in conversation, -used to say of himself that, with respect -to intellectual wealth, ‘he could draw bills for -a thousand pounds though he had not a -guinea in his pocket.’... ‘Addison’s conversation,’ -says Pope, ‘had something in it -more charming than I have found in any -other man. But this was only when familiar; -before strangers, or, perhaps, a single stranger, -he preserved his dignity by a stiff silence.’”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HARRISON AINSWORTH<br /> - -<small>1805-1882</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Retrospect of a<br /> -Long Life</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“I saw</span> little of him in later days, but when I -saw him in 1826, not long after he married -the daughter of Ebers of New Bond Street, -and ‘condescended’ for a brief time to be a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> -publisher, he was a remarkably handsome -young man—tall, graceful in deportment, -and in all ways a pleasant person -to look upon and talk to. He -was, perhaps, as thorough a gentleman -as his native city of Manchester ever -sent forth.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A personal<br /> -friend.</div> - -<p>“Harrison Ainsworth was certainly a -handsome man, but it was very much of the -barber’s-block type of beauty, with -wavy scented hair, smiling lips, and -pink and white complexion. As a young -man he was gorgeous in the <i>outré</i> dress of -the dandy of ’36, and, in common with those -other famous dandies, d’Orsay, young Benjamin -Disraeli, and Tom Duncombe, wore -multitudinous waistcoats, over which dangled -a long gold chain, numberless rings, and a -black satin stock. In old age he was very -patriarchal-looking. His gray hair was -swept up and back from a peculiarly high -broad forehead; his moustache, beard, and -whiskers were short, straight, and silky, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> -the mouth was entirely hidden. His eyes -were large and oval, and rather <i>flat</i> in form,—less -expressive altogether than one would -have expected in the head of so graphic a -writer. The eyebrows were somewhat overhanging, -and the nose was straight and -flexible. Up to the day of his death he was -always a well-dressed man, but in a far more -sober fashion than in his youth.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Ainsworth’s<br /> -<i>Rookwood</i>.</div> - -<p>“What have we to add to what we have -here ventured to record, which the engraving -which accompanies this memoir will -not more happily embody? (<i>This -refers to a portrait by Maclise which appeared -in</i> The Mirror.) Should that fail to do justice -to his face—to its regularity and delicacy of -feature, its manly glow of health, and the -cordial nature which lightens it up—we -must refer the dissatisfied beholder to Mr. -Pickersgill’s masterly full-length portrait exhibited -last year, in which the author of <i>The -Miser’s Daughter</i> may be seen, not as some -pale, worn, pining scholar,—some fagging,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> -half-exhausted, periodical romancer,—but, as -an English gentleman of goodly stature and -well-set limb, with a fine head on his shoulders, -and a heart to match. If to this we add a -word, it must be to observe, that, though the -temper of our popular author may be marked -by impatience on some occasions, it has never -been upon any occasion marked by a want of -generosity, whether in conferring benefits or -atoning for errors. His friends regard him -as a man with as few failings, blended with -fine qualities, as most people, and his enemies -know nothing at all about him.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">JANE AUSTEN<br /> - -<small>1775-1817</small></h2></div> - -<div class="sidenote">Tytler’s <i>Jane<br /> -Austen and<br /> -her Works</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“In</span> person Jane Austen seems to have borne -considerable resemblance to her two favourite -heroines, Elizabeth Bennet and Emma -Woodhouse. Jane, too, was tall and slender,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> -a brunette, with a rich colour,—altogether -‘the picture of health’ which Emma -Woodhouse was said to be. In -minor points, Jane Austen had a -well-formed though somewhat small -nose and mouth, round as well as rosy -cheeks, bright hazel eyes, and brown hair -falling in natural curls about her face.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Leigh’s <i>Memoir<br /> -of Jane Austen</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p>“As my memoir has now reached the -period when I saw a great deal of my aunt, -and was old enough to understand -something of her value, I -will here attempt a description of her person, -mind, and habits. In person she was very -attractive; her figure was rather tall and -slender, her step light and firm, and her -whole appearance expressive of health and -animation. In complexion she was a clear -brunette, with a rich colour; she had full -round cheeks, with mouth and nose small -and well-formed, bright hazel eyes, and -brown hair forming natural curls close round -her face. If not so regularly handsome as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> -her sister, yet her countenance had a peculiar -charm of its own to the eyes of most beholders. -At the time of which I am now -writing, she never was seen, either morning -or evening, without a cap; I believe that -she and her sister were generally thought to -have taken to the garb of middle age earlier -than their years or their looks required; and -that, though remarkably neat in their dress, -as in all their ways, they were scarcely -sufficiently regardful of the fashionable, or -the becoming.”—1809.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Austen’s <i>Sense<br /> -and Sensibility</i>.</div> - -<p>“Of personal attractions she possessed a -considerable share; her stature rather exceeded -the middle height; her -carriage and deportment were -quiet, but graceful; her features were separately -good; their assemblage produced an -unrivalled expression of that cheerfulness, -sensibility, and benevolence which were her -real characteristics; her complexion was of -the finest texture—it might with truth be -said that her eloquent blood spoke through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> -her modest cheek; her voice was sweet; she -delivered herself with fluency and precision; -indeed, she was formed for elegant and -rational society, excelling in conversation as -much as in composition.... The affectation -of candour is not uncommon, but she had no -affectation.... She never uttered either a -hasty, a silly, or a severe expression. In -short, her temper was as polished as her wit; -and no one could be often in her company -without feeling a strong desire of obtaining -her friendship, and cherishing a desire of -having obtained it.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">FRANCIS, LORD BACON<br /> - -<small>1560-1-1626</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Montague’s<br /> -<i>Life of Bacon</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<div class="sidenote">Evelyn<br /> -on Medals.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“He</span> was of a middle stature, and well proportioned; -his features were handsome and -expressive, and his countenance, until it was -injured by politics and worldly warfare, singularly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> -placid. There is a portrait of him -when he was only eighteen now extant, on -which the artist has recorded his -despair of doing justice to his subject, -by the inscription,—‘Si tabula daretur -digna, animum mallem.’ His portraits differ -beyond what may be considered a fair allowance -for the varying skill of the artist, or the -natural changes which time wrought upon his -person; but none of them contradict -the description given by one who -knew him well, ‘That he had a spacious forehead -and piercing eye, looking upward as a -soul in sublime contemplation, a countenance -worthy of one who was to set free captive -philosophy.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Aubrey’s<br /> -<i>Lives of<br /> -Eminent<br /> -Persons</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<div class="sidenote">Campbell’s<br /> -<i>Lives of the<br /> -Lord<br /> -Chancellors</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p>“He had a delicate, lively hazel -eie; Dr. Harvey told me it was like -the eie of a viper.”</p> - - - -<p>“All accounts represent him as a delightful -companion, adapting himself to company -of every degree, calling, and humour,—not -engrossing the conversation,—trying to get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> -all to talk in turn on the subject they best -understood, and not disdaining to light his own -candle at the lamp of any other.... -Little remains except to give some -account of his person. He was of -a middling stature; his limbs well-formed -though not robust; his forehead high, -spacious and open; his eye lively and penetrating; -there were deep lines of thinking in -his face, his smile was both intellectual and -benevolent; the marks of age were prematurely -impressed upon him; in advanced -life his whole appearance was venerably -pleasing, so that a stranger was insensibly -drawn to love before knowing how much -reason there was to admire him.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">JOANNA BAILLIE<br /> - -<small>1762-1851</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Crabb<br /> -Robinson’s<br /> -<i>Diary</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“We</span> met Miss Joanna Baillie, and accompanied -her home. She is small in figure, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> -her gait is mean and shuffling, but her -manners are those of a well-bred woman. -She has none of the unpleasant airs -too common to literary ladies. Her -conversation is sensible. She possesses apparently -considerable information, is prompt -without being forward, and has a fixed -judgment of her own, without any disposition -to force it on others. Wordsworth said of -her with warmth, ‘If I had to present any one -to a foreigner as a model of an English -gentlewoman, it would be Joanna Baillie.’”—1812.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - -<p>“Of the party I can recall but one; that -one, however, is a memory,—<span class="smcap">Joanna Baillie</span>. -I remember her as singularly impressive -in look and manner, with -the ‘queenly’ air we associate with -ideas of high birth and lofty rank. Her face -was long, narrow, dark, and solemn, and her -speech deliberate and considerate, the very -antipodes of ‘chatter.’ Tall in person, -and habited according to the ‘mode’ of an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> -olden time, her picture, as it is now present -to me, is that of a very venerable dame, -dressed in coif and kirtle, stepping out, as -it were, from a frame in which she had -been placed by the painter Vandyke.”—1825-26.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Sara<br /> -Coleridge’s<br /> -<i>Letters</i>.</div> - -<p>“I saw Mrs. Joanna Baillie before dinner. -She wore a delicate lavender satin bonnet; -and Mrs. J. says she is fond -of dress, and knows what every -one has on. Her taste is certainly -exquisite in dress though (strange to say) not, -in my opinion, in poetry. I more than -ever admired the harmony of expression -and tint, the silver hair and silvery-gray -eye, the pale skin, and the look which -speaks of a mind that has had much -communing with high imagination, though -such intercourse is only perceptible now -by the absence of everything which that -lofty spirit would not set his seal upon.”—1834.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">BENJAMIN, LORD BEACONSFIELD<br /> - -<small>1804-1881</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Jeaffreson’s<br /> -<i>Novels and<br /> -Novelists</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“His</span> ringlets of silken black hair, his -flashing eyes, his effeminate and lisping voice, -his dress-coat of black velvet lined -with white satin, his white kid -gloves with his wrist surrounded -by a long hanging fringe of black silk, and -his ivory cane, of which the handle, inlaid -with gold, was relieved by more black silk in -the shape of a tassel.... Such was the perfumed -boy-exquisite who forced his way into -the salons of peeresses.”—1829.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Mill’s<br /> -<i>Beaconsfield</i>.</div> - -<p>“In the front seat on the Conservative side -of the House, may be observed a man who, -if his hat be off, which it generally -is, is sure to arrest one’s attention, -and we need scarcely to be told after having -once seen him that he is the leader of that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> -great party. He is not old, just turned fifty we -may suppose, but he bears his age well, whatever -it may be. His face, which was once -handsome, is now ‘sicklied o’er with the pale -cast of thought.’ The head is long, and the -forehead massive and finished. The eye is -restless, but full of fire; the hair black and -curly. Nature has evidently taken some -pains to finish the exterior.”—about 1855.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">J. H. du Vivier,<br /> -<i>Portraits comparés<br /> -des hommes<br /> -d’état</i>.</div> - - -<p>“Certes, le premier aspect de Mr. Gladstone -... réponds à l’idée qu’on peut se faire -d’un chef doué d’un élan irrésistible, -mieuxque l’attitude maladive -de lord Beaconsfield, ses traits -mous, son regard flétri et comme perdu dans -l’abstraction ou dans une réverie hantée par -la désillusion et la lassitude.... Chez -le plus faible ... on devine bientôt que si le -fourreau est usé par la lame, c’est à raison de -la dévorante activité de celle-ci.... La tête -s’incline avec mélancholie, la bouche a pris -l’habitude des contractions douleureuses; mais -que de patience invincible dans cette attitude!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> -quelle fécondité, quelle soudaineté d’inspirations -marquées sur ces lèvres que plisse le -rictus de l’ironie!”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">JEREMY BENTHAM<br /> - -<small>1748-1832</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Sir John<br /> -Bowring’s<br /> -<i>Autobiographical<br /> -Recollections</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“In</span> the very centre of the group of persons -who originated the <i>Westminster Review</i> stands -the grand figure of Jeremy -Bentham. Though closely resembling -Franklin, his face expresses -a profounder wisdom and a more -marked benevolence than the bust of the -American printer. Mingled with a serene -contemplative cast, there is something of -playful humour in the countenance. The -high forehead is wrinkled, but is without -sternness, and is contemplative but complacent. -The neatly-combed long white -hair hangs over the neck, but moves at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> -every breath. <i>Simplex munditiis</i> best describes -his garments. When he walks there -is a restless activity in his gait, as if his -thoughts were, ‘Let me walk fast, for there -is work to do, and the walking is but to fit -me the better for the work.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Sir John Bowring’s<br /> -<i>Life of<br /> -Bentham</i>.</div> - - -<p>“The striking resemblance between the -persons of Franklin and Bentham has been -often noticed. Of the two, perhaps, -the expression of Bentham’s -countenance was the -more benign. Each remarkable for profound -sagacity, Bentham was scarcely less so for -a perpetual playfulness of manner and of -expression. Few men were so sportive, -so amusing, as Bentham,—none ever tempered -more delightfully his wisdom with -his wit.... Bentham’s dress was peculiar -out of doors. He ordinarily wore a narrow-rimmed -straw hat, from under which his -long white hair fell on his shoulders, or was -blown about by the winds. He had a plain -brown coat, cut in the Quaker style; light-brown<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> -cassimere breeches, over whose knees -outside he usually exhibited a pair of white -worsted stockings; list shoes he almost -invariably used; and his hands were generally -covered with merino-lined leather gloves. -His neck was bare; he never went out -without his stick ‘dapple,’ for a companion. -He walked, or rather trotted, as if he were -impatient for exercise; but often stopped -suddenly for purposes of conversation.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Crabb<br /> -Robinson’s<br /> -<i>Diary</i>.</div> - -<p>“<i>December 31st.</i>—At half-past one went -by appointment to see Jeremy Bentham, at -his house in Westminster Square, -and walked with him for about half -an hour in his garden, when he -dismissed me to take his breakfast and have -the paper read to him. I have but little -to report concerning him. He is a small -man. He stoops very much (he is eighty-four), -and shuffles in his gait. His hearing -is not good, yet excellent considering his -age. His eye is restless, and there is a -fidgety activity about him, increased probably<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> -by the habit of having all round fly at -his command.”—1831.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">RICHARD BENTLEY<br /> - -<small>1662-1742</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">R. C. Jebb’s<br /> -<i>Bentley</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> pose of the head is haughty, almost -defiant; the eyes, which are large, prominent, -and full of bold vivacity, have a -light in them as if Bentley were -looking straight at an impostor whom he had -detected, but who still amused him; the nose, -strong and slightly tip-tilted, is moulded as -if Nature had wished to show what a nose -can do for the combined expression of scorn -and sagacity; and the general effect of the -countenance, at a first glance, is one which -suggests power—frank, self-assured, sarcastic, -and, I fear we must add, insolent: yet, standing -a little longer before the picture, we become -aware of an essential kindness in those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> -eyes of which the gaze is so direct and intrepid; -we read in the whole face a certain -keen veracity; and the sense grows—this was -a man who could hit hard, but who would -not strike a foul blow, and whose ruling instinct, -whether always a sure guide or not, -was to pierce through falsities to truth.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">JAMES BOSWELL<br /> - -<small>1740-1795</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Littell’s<br /> -<i>Living Age</i>,<br /> -1870.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> sketch by Sir Thomas Lawrence of -Boswell, prefixed to Mr. Murray’s edition -of Johnson’s <i>Life</i>, illustrates with -striking accuracy the saying of -Hazlitt, that ‘A man’s life may be -a lie to himself and others; and yet a picture -painted of him by a great artist would probably -stamp his character.’ The busy vanity, the -garrulous complacency of the man when out -of sight of Dr. Johnson, as he may be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> -supposed to have been when the portrait -was etched, are brought out with all the -humour and point of a caricature, without its -exaggeration. The thin nose, that seems to -sniff the air for information, has the sharp -shrewdness of a Scotch accent. The small -eyes, too much relieved by the high-arched -eyebrows, twinkle with the exultation of -victories not won—an expression contracted -from a vigilant watching of Dr. Johnson, -who, when he spoke, spoke always for -victory; the bleak lips, making by their -protrusion an angle almost the size of the -nose, proclaim Boswell’s love of ‘drawing -people out,’ a thirst for information at once -droll and impertinent; but which finally -embodied itself in a form that has been -pronounced by Lord Macaulay the most -interesting biography in the world; the -ample chins, fold upon fold, tell of a strong -affection, gross, and almost sottish, for port -wine and tainted meats; whilst the folded -arms, the slightly-inclined posture, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> -strong and arrogant setting of the head, -exhibit the self-importance, the shrewd -understanding, not to be obscurated by -vanity, the imperturbable but artless egotism, -the clever inquisitiveness which have made -him the best-despised and best-read writer -in English literature. The portraits handed -down to us of Boswell by his contemporaries -are most graphic; some of them are -malignant, some bitter, some temperate; -and those that are temperate are probably -just.... Miss Burney thus caricatures the -appearance of Boswell in Johnson’s presence, -when intent upon his note-taking: ‘The -moment that voice burst forth, the attention -which it excited on Mr. Boswell amounted -almost to pain. His eyes goggled with -eagerness; he leant his ear almost on the -shoulder of the doctor, and his mouth -dropped down to catch every syllable that -was uttered; nay, he seemed not only -to dread losing a word, but to be anxious -not to miss a breathing, as if hoping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> -from it latently or mystically some information.’”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHARLOTTE BRONTË<br /> - -<small>1816-1855</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Mrs Gaskell’s<br /> -<i>Life of C. Brontë</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“In</span> 1831, she was a quiet, thoughtful girl, -of nearly fifteen years of age, very small in -figure—‘stunted’ was the word -she applied to herself; but as -her limbs and head were in just proportion -to the slight, fragile body, no word in ever -so slight a degree suggestive of deformity -could properly be applied to her; with soft, -thick, brown hair, and peculiar eyes, of which -I find it difficult to give a description as they -appeared to me in her later life. They were -large and well-shaped, their colour a reddish -brown, but if the iris were closely examined, -it appeared to be composed of a great variety -of tints. The usual expression was of quiet, -listening intelligence; but now and then, on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> -some just occasion for vivid interest or -wholesome indignation, a light would shine -out, as if some spiritual lamp had been -kindled, which glowed behind those expressive -orbs. I never saw the like in any -other human creature. As for the rest of -her features, they were plain, large, and ill-set; -but, unless you began to catalogue -them, you were hardly aware of the fact, for -the eyes and power of the countenance overbalanced -every physical defect; the crooked -mouth and the large nose were forgotten, -and the whole face arrested the attention, -and presently attracted all those whom she -herself would have cared to attract. Her -hands and feet were the smallest I ever saw; -when one of the former was placed in mine, -it was like the soft touch of a bird in the -middle of my palm. The delicate long -fingers had a peculiar fineness of sensation, -which was one reason why all her handiwork, -of whatever kind—writing, sewing, knitting,—was -so clear in its minuteness. She was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> -remarkably neat in her whole personal attire; -but she was dainty as to the fit of her shoes -and gloves.”—1831.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Harriet<br /> -Martineau’s<br /> -<i>Biographical<br /> -Sketches</i>.</div> - -<p>“There was something inexpressibly affecting -in the aspect of the frail little creature -who had done such wonderful -things, and who was able to bear -up, with so bright an eye and so -composed a countenance, under not only such -a weight of sorrow, but such a prospect of -solitude. In her deep mourning dress (neat -as a Quaker’s), with her beautiful hair, -smooth and brown, her fine eyes, and her -sensible face indicating a habit of self-control, -she seemed a perfect household image—irresistibly -recalling Wordsworth’s description -of that domestic treasure. And she was -this.”—1850.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Bayne’s<br /> -<i>Two great<br /> -Englishwomen</i>.</div> - -<p>“I can only say of this lady, <i>vide tantum</i>. -I saw her first just as I rose out -of an illness from which I never -thought to recover. I remember the -trembling little frame, the little hand, the great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> -honest eyes. An impetuous honesty seemed -to me to characterise the woman.... She -gave me the impression of being a very pure, -and lofty, and high-minded person. A great -and holy reverence of right and truth seemed -to be with her always. Such, in our brief -interview, she appeared to me.”—1851.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HENRY, LORD BROUGHAM<br /> - -<small>1778-1868</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Ticknor’s <i>Life<br /> -and Letters</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Brougham</span>, whom I knew in society, and -from seeing him both at his chambers and -at my own lodgings, is now about -thirty-eight, tall, thin, and rather -awkward, with a plain and not very expressive -countenance, and simple or even -slovenly manners. He is evidently nervous, -and a slight convulsive movement about the -muscles of his lips gives him an unpleasant -expression now and then. In short, all that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> -is exterior in him, and all that goes to make -up the first impression, is unfavourable. -The first thing that removes this impression -is the heartiness and good-will he shows you, -whose motive cannot be mistaken, for such -kindness comes only from the heart. This -is the first thing, but a stranger presently -begins to remark his conversation. On -common topics nobody is more commonplace. -He does not feel them, but if the -subject excites him, there is an air of -originality in his remarks which, if it convinces -you of nothing else, convinces you -that you are talking with an extraordinary -man. He does not like to join in a general -conversation, but prefers to talk apart with -only two or three persons, and, though with -great interest and zeal, in an undertone. If, -however, he does launch into it, all the little, -trim, gay pleasure-boats must keep well out -of the way of his great black collier, as -Gibbon said of Fox. He listens carefully -and fairly—and with a kindness which would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> -be provoking if it were not genuine—to all -his adversary has to say; but when his time -comes to answer, it is with that bare, bold, -bullion talent which either crushes itself or -its opponent.... Yet I suspect the impression -Brougham generally leaves is that -of a good-natured friend. At least that is -the impression I have most frequently found, -both in England and on the Continent.”—1819.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Newspaper<br /> -cutting<br /> -1876.</div> - - -<p>“Standing in the narrow Gothic railed-off -place reserved for the public—the throne at -the opposite extremity of the House—you -may see on one of the benches -to the right, almost every forenoon, -Saturday and Sunday excepted, during the -session, a very old man with a white head, -and attired in a simple frock and trousers of -shepherd’s plaid. It is a leonine head, and -the white locks are bushy and profuse. So, -too, the eyebrows, penthouses to eyes somewhat -weak now, but that can flash fire yet -upon occasion. The face is ploughed with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> -wrinkles, as well it may be, for the old man -will never see fourscore years again, and of -these, threescore, at the very least, have been -spent in study and the hardest labour, mental -and physical. The nose is a marvel—protuberant, -rugose, aggressive, inquiring and -defiant: unlovely, but intellectual. There -is a trumpet mouth, a belligerent mouth, -projecting and self-asserting; largish ears, -and on chin or cheeks no vestige of hair. -Not a beautiful man this, on any theory of -beauty, Hogarthesque, Ruskinesque, Winclemenesque, -or otherwise. Rather a shaggy, -gnarled, battered, weather-beaten, ugly, -faithful, Scotch-collie type. Not a soft, -imploring, yielding face. Rather a tearing, -mocking, pugnacious cast of countenance. -The mouth is fashioned to the saying of -harsh, hard, impertinent things: not cruel, -but downright; but never to whisper compliments, -or simper out platitudes. A nose, -too, that can snuff the battle afar off, and -with dilated nostrils breathe forth a glory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -that is sometimes terrible; but not a nose -for a pouncet-box, or a Covent Garden -bouquet, or a <i>flacon</i> of Frangipani. Would -not care much for truffles either, I think, or -the delicate aroma of sparkling Moselle. -Would prefer onions or strongly-infused malt -and hops; something honest and unsophisticated. -Watch this old man narrowly, young -visitor to the Lords. Scan his furrowed -visage. Mark his odd angular ways and -gestures passing uncouth. Now he crouches, -very dog-like, in his crimson bench: clasps -one shepherd’s plaid leg in both his hands. -Botherem, <i>q.c.</i>, is talking nonsense, I think. -Now the legs are crossed, and the hands -thrown behind the head; now he digs his -elbows into the little Gothic writing-table -before him, and buries his hands in that -puissant white hair of his. The quiddities -of Floorem, <i>q.c.</i>, are beyond human -patience. Then with a wrench, a wriggle, -a shake, a half-turn and half-start up—still -very dog-like, but of the Newfoundland<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> -rather, now—he asks a lawyer or a witness a -question. Question very sharp and to the -point, not often complimentary by times, and -couched in that which is neither broad Scotch -nor Northumbrian burr, but a rebellious -mixture of the two. Mark him well, eye -him closely: you have not much time to lose. -Alas! the giant is very old, though with -frame yet unenfeebled, with intellect yet -gloriously unclouded. But the sands are -running, ever running. Watch him, mark -him, eye him, score him on your mind tablets: -then home, and in after years it may be your -lot to tell your children that once at least -you have seen with your own eyes the famous -Lord of Vaux; once listened to the voice -which has shaken thrones and made tyrants -tremble; that has been a herald of deliverance -to millions pining in slavery and -captivity; a voice that has given utterance, -in man’s most eloquent words, to the noblest, -wisest thoughts lent to this man of men by -heaven; a voice that has been trumpet-sounding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> -these sixty years past in defence of -Truth, and Right, and Justice; in advocacy -of the claims of learning and industry, and of -the liberties of the great English people, from -whose ranks he rose; a voice that should be -entitled to a hearing in a Walhalla of wise -heroes, after Francis of Verulam and Isaac of -Grantham; the voice of one who is worthily -a lord, but who will be yet better remembered, -and to all time,—remembered enthusiastically -and affectionately,—as the champion of all -good and wise and beautiful human things—Harry -Brougham.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Temple Bar</i>,<br /> -1868.</div> - - -<p>“The personal man, the bodily man, the -private man, did not vary. From 1830 to -1866,—the period between his -brightest glow of fame and his -mental eclipse,—he was always the same -gaunt, angular, raw-boned figure, with the -high cheek-bones, the great flexible nose, the -mobile mouth, the shock head of hair, the -uncouthly-cut coat with the velvet collar, the -high black stock, the bulging shirt front, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> -dangling bunch of seals at his fob, and the -immortal pantaloons of checked tweed. It -is said that one of his admirers in the -Bradford Cloth Hall gave him a bale of -plaid trousering ‘a’ oo’’<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> in 1825, and that -he continued until the day of his death to -have his nether garments cut from the inexhaustible -store. I have seen Lord Brougham -in evening dress and in the customary black -continuations; but I never met him by daylight -without the inevitable checks.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING<br /> - -<small>1809-1861</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">M. R. Mitford’s<br /> -<i>Recollections of a<br /> -Literary Life</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“My</span> first acquaintance with Elizabeth Barrett -commenced about fifteen years -ago. She was certainly one of -the most interesting persons that -I had ever seen. Everybody who then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> -saw her said the same; so that it is not -merely the impression of my partiality, or my -enthusiasm. Of a slight delicate figure, with -a shower of dark curls falling on either side -of a most expressive face, large tender eyes, -richly fringed with dark eyelashes, a smile -like a sunbeam, and such a look of youthfulness, -that I had some difficulty in persuading -a friend, in whose carriage we went together -to Chiswick, that the translatress of the -<i>Prometheus</i> of Æschylus, the authoress of -the <i>Essay on Mind</i>, was old enough to be -introduced into company, in technical -language, was <i>out</i>.”—1835.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Sara Coleridge’s<br /> -<i>Letters</i>.</div> - -<p>“She is little, hard featured, with long -dark ringlets, a pale face, and plaintive voice, -something very impressive in her -dark eyes and her brow. Her -general aspect puts me in mind of Mignon,—what -Mignon might be in maturity and -maternity.”—1851.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Crab Robinson’s<br /> -<i>Diary</i>.</div> - -<p>“Dined at home, and at eight dressed to -go to Kenyon. With him I found an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> -interesting person I had never seen before, -Mrs. Browning, late Miss Barrett—not the -invalid I expected; she has a -handsome oval face, a fine eye, -and altogether a pleasing person. She had -no opportunity for display, and apparently -no desire. Her husband has a very amiable -expression. There is a singular sweetness -about him.”—1852.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">JOHN BUNYAN<br /> - -<small>1628-1688</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Charles Doe’s <i>Life<br /> -of John Bunyan</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“He</span> appeared in countenance to be of a -stern and rough temper. He had a sharp, -quick eye, accomplished, with an -excellent discerning of persons. -As for his person, he was tall of stature, -strong-boned, though not corpulent; somewhat -of a ruddy face, with sparkling eyes, -wearing his hair on the upper lip after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> -the old British fashion; his hair reddish, -but in his later days time had sprinkled -it with gray; his nose well set, but not -declining or bending, and his mouth moderate -large, his forehead something high, and his -habit always plain and modest.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Tulloch’s <i>English<br /> -Puritanism</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p>“It is impossible to look at his portrait, -and not recognise the lines of power by -which it is everywhere marked. -It has more of a sturdy soldier -than anything else—the aspect of a man who -would face dangers any day rather than shun -them; and this corresponds exactly to his -description by his oldest biographer and -friend, Charles Doe.... A more manly and -robust appearance cannot well be conceived, -his eyes only showing in their sparkling -depth the fountains of sensibility concealed -within the roughened exterior. Here, as -before, we are reminded of his likeness to -Luther.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Bunyan’s<br /> -<i>Works</i>, 1692.</div> - - -<p>“Give us leave to say his natural parts -and abilities were not mean, his fancy and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> -invention were very pregnant and fertile; the -use he made of them was good, converting -them to spiritual objects. His wit -was sharp and quick; his memory -tenacious; it being customary with him to -commit his sermons to writing, after he had -preached them. His understanding was -large and comprehensive; his judgments -sound and deep in the fundamentals of the -Gospel, as his writings evidence. And yet, -this great saint was always, in his own eyes, -the chiefest of sinners and the least of saints; -esteeming any, where he did believe the truth -of (their) grace, better than himself. There -was, indeed, in him all the parts of an accomplished -man. His carriage was condescending, -affable, and meek to all; yet bold and -courageous for Christ’s and the Gospel’s sake. -His countenance was grave and sedate, and did -so, to the life, discover the inward frame of his -heart, that it did strike something of awe into -them that had nothing of the fear of God.... -His conversation was as becomes the Gospel.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">EDMUND BURKE<br /> - -<small>1730-1797</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Burney’s <i>Diary<br /> -and Letters</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“No</span> expectation that I had formed of Mr. -Burke, either from his works, his speeches, -his character, or his fame, had -anticipated to me such a man as -I now met. He appeared, perhaps, at the -moment, to the highest possible advantage -in health, vivacity, and spirits. Removed -from the impetuous aggravations of party -contentions, that at times, by inflaming his -passions, seemed (momentarily, at least), to -disorder his character, he was lulled into -gentleness by the grateful sense of prosperity; -exhilarated, but not intoxicated, by sudden -success; and just rising, after toiling years of -failures, disappointments, fire and fury, to -place, affluence, and honours, which were -brightly smiling on the zenith of his powers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> -He looked, indeed, as if he had no wish but -to diffuse philanthropic pleasure and genial -gaiety all around.</p> - -<p>“His figure is noble, his air commanding, -his address graceful; his voice clear, penetrating, -sonorous, and powerful; his language -copious, eloquent, and changefully impressive; -his manners are attractive; his conversation -is past all praise.</p> - -<p>“You may call me mad, I know; but if I -wait till I see another Mr. Burke for such -another fit of ecstacy, I may be long enough -in my sober good senses.”—1782.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Peter Burke’s<br /> -<i>Life of Burke</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“The personal description of Edmund -Burke has been handed down. He was -about five feet ten inches high, -well made and muscular; of that -firm and compact frame that denotes more -strength than bulk. His countenance had -been in his youth handsome. The expression -of his face was less striking than might -have been anticipated; at least it was so -until lit up by the animation of his conversation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> -or the fire of his eloquence. In dress -he usually wore a brown suit; and he was -in his later days easily recognisable in the -House of Commons from his bob-wig and -spectacles.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Macknight’s<br /> -<i>Life of Burke</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“He deserved ... worship better than -most idols. Gentle, affectionate, unassuming -towards the members of his own -family, he was also dignified, -polished, and courteous in his manner to all -the rest of mankind. Nature had stamped -the noblest impress of genius on his wrinkled -brow, and time had slowly conferred a grace -on his address which made him appear -singularly pleasing and lovable. In the -House of Commons only the fiercer peculiarities -of his character were now seen; -while at home he seemed the mildest and -kindest, as well as one of the best and -greatest of human beings. He poured forth -the rich treasures of his mind with the most -prodigal bounty. At breakfast and dinner -his gaiety, wit, and pleasantry enlivened the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> -board, and diffused cheerfulness and happiness -all round.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">ROBERT BURNS<br /> - -<small>1759-1796</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Currie’s<br /> -<i>Life of Burns</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Burns</span> ... was nearly five feet ten inches in -height, and of a form that indicated agility as -well as strength. His well-raised -forehead, shaded with black curling -hair, indicated extensive capacity. -His eyes were large, dark, full of ardour -and intelligence. His face was well-formed, -and his countenance uncommonly interesting -and expressive. His mode of dressing, -which was often slovenly, and a certain -fulness and bend in his shoulders, characteristic -of his original profession, disguised in -some degree the natural symmetry and -elegance of his form. The external appearance -of Burns was most strikingly indicative -of the character of his mind. On a first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> -view, his physiognomy had a certain air of -coarseness, mingled, however, with an expression -of deep penetration, and of calm -thoughtfulness, approaching to melancholy.... -His dark and haughty countenance easily -relaxed into a look of good-will, of pity, or -of tenderness, and, as the various emotions -succeeded each other in his mind, assumed -with equal ease the expression of the -broadest humour, of the most extravagant -mirth, of the deepest melancholy, or of the -most sublime emotion. The tones of his -voice happily corresponded with the expression -of his features, and with the feelings of -his mind. When to these endowments are -added a rapid and distinct apprehension, a -most powerful understanding, and a happy -command of language—of strength as well -as brilliancy of expression—we shall be able -to account for the extraordinary attractions -of his conversation—for the sorcery which -in his social parties he seemed to exert on -all around him.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Lockhart’s<br /> -<i>Life of Scott</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>“His person was strong and robust; his -manners rustic, not clownish; a sort of -dignified plainness and simplicity, -which received part of its effect, -perhaps, from one’s knowledge of his extraordinary -talents. His features are represented -in Mr. Nasmyth’s picture, but to me it conveys -the idea that they are diminished, as if -seen in perspective. I think his countenance -was more massive than it looks in any of the -portraits. I would have taken the poet, had -I not known what he was, for a very sagacious -country farmer of the old Scotch school; <i>i.e.</i> -none of your modern agriculturists, who keep -labourers for their drudgery, but the <i>douce -gudeman</i> who held his own plough. There -was a strong expression of sense and shrewdness -in all his lineaments; the eye alone, -I think, indicated the poetical character and -temperament. It was large, and of a dark -cast, and glowed (I say literally <i>glowed</i>) when -he spoke with feeling or interest. I never -saw such another eye in a human head,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> -though I have seen the most distinguished -men in my time. His conversation expressed -perfect self-confidence, without the slightest -presumption. Among the men who were -the most learned of their time and country, -he expressed himself with perfect firmness, -but without the least intrusive forwardness; -and when he differed in opinion, he did not -hesitate to express it firmly, yet, at the same -time, with modesty. I do not remember any -part of his conversation distinctly enough to -be quoted, nor did I ever see him again, -except in the street, where he did not -recognise me, as I could not expect he -should.”—1787.</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Dumfries<br /> -Journal</i>, 1796.</div> - - -<p>“His personal endowments were perfectly -correspondent to the qualifications of his -mind, his form was manly, his action -energy itself, devoid in a great -measure perhaps of those graces, of that polish, -acquired only in the refinement of societies -where in early life he could have no opportunities -of mixing; but where, such was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> -irresistible power of attraction that encircled -him, though his appearance and manners -were always peculiar, he never failed to -delight and to excel. His figure seemed to -bear testimony to his earlier destination and -employments. It seemed rather moulded by -nature for the rough exercises of agriculture, -than the gentler cultivation of the <i>Belles -Lettres</i>. His features were stamped with the -hardy character of independence, and the -firmness of conscious, though not arrogant, -pre-eminence; the animated expressions of -countenance were almost peculiar to himself; -the rapid lightenings of his eye were always -the harbingers of some flash of genius, -whether they darted the fiery glances of -insulted and indignant superiority, or beamed -with the impassioned sentiments of fervent -and impetuous affections. His voice alone -could improve upon the magic of his eye; -sonorous, replete with the finest modulations, -it alternately captivated the ear with the -melody of poetic numbers, the perspicuity of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> -nervous reasoning, or the ardent sallies of -enthusiastic patriotism.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SAMUEL BUTLER<br /> - -<small>1612-1680</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Aubrey’s <i>Lives<br /> -of Eminent Men</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“He</span> is of a middle stature, strong sett, high-colored, -a head of sorrell haire, a -severe and sound judgement: a -good fellowe.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Aubrey’s <i>Lives<br /> -of Eminent Men</i>.</div> - -<p>“He was of a leonine-colored haire, sanguine, -cholerique, middle-sized, -strong; a boon and witty companion, -especially among the companie he -knew well.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">GEORGE, LORD BYRON<br /> - -<small>1788-1824</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Moore’s<br /> -<i>Life of Byron</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Among</span> the impressions which this meeting -left upon me, what I chiefly remember to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> -have remarked was the nobleness of his air, -his beauty, the gentleness of his voice and -manners, and—what was naturally -not the least attraction—his marked -kindness to myself. Being in mourning for -his mother, the colour, as well of his dress -as of his glossy, curling, and picturesque -hair, gave more effect to the pure, spiritual -paleness of his features, in the expression of -which, when he spoke, there was a perpetual -play of lively thought, though melancholy -was their habitual character when in repose.”—1811.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Geo. Ticknor’s<br /> -<i>Life</i>.</div> - -<p>“I called on Lord Byron to-day, with an -introduction from Mr. Gifford. Here, again, -my anticipations were mistaken. -Instead of being deformed, as I had -heard, he is remarkably well-built, with the -exception of his feet. Instead of having a -thin and rather sharp and anxious face, as he -has in his pictures, it is round, open, and -smiling; his eyes are light, and not black; -his air easy and careless, not forward and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> -striking; and I found his manners affable -and gentle, the tones of his voice low and -conciliating, his conversation gay, pleasant, -and interesting in an uncommon degree.”—1815.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Moore’s<br /> -<i>Life of Byron</i>.</div> - -<p>“It would be to little purpose to dwell -upon the mere beauty of a countenance in -which the expression of an extraordinary -mind was so conspicuous. -What serenity was seated on the forehead, -adorned with the finest chestnut hair, -light, curling, and disposed with such art, that -the art was hidden in the imitation of most -pleasing nature! What varied expression -in his eyes! They were of the azure colour -of the heavens, from which they seemed to -derive their origin. His teeth, in form, in -colour, in transparency, resembled pearls; -but his cheeks were too delicately tinged -with the hue of the pale rose. His neck, -which he was in the habit of keeping uncovered -as much as the usages of society -permitted, seemed to have been formed in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> -mould, and was very white. His hands were -as beautiful as if they had been the works of -art. His figure left nothing to be desired, -particularly by those who found rather a -grace than a defect in a certain light and -gentle undulation of the person when he -entered a room, and of which you hardly felt -tempted to inquire the cause. Indeed it was -hardly perceptible,—the clothes he wore were -so long.... His face appeared tranquil -like the ocean on a fine spring morning, but, -like it, in an instant became changed into -the tempestuous and terrible, if a passion -(a passion did I say?), a thought, a word -occurred to disturb his mind. His eyes then -lost all their sweetness, and sparkled so that -it became difficult to look on them.”—1819.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">THOMAS CAMPBELL<br /> - -<small>1777-1844</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Leigh Hunt’s<br /> -<i>Autobiography</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“They</span> who knew Mr. Campbell only as -the author of <i>Gertrude of Wyoming</i>, and the -<i>Pleasures of Hope</i>, would not have -suspected him to be a merry companion, -overflowing with humour and anecdote, -and anything but fastidious.... -When I first saw this eminent person, he -gave me the idea of a French Virgil. Not -that he was like a Frenchman, much less the -French translator of Virgil. I found him -as handsome as the Abbé Delille is said to -have been ugly. But he seemed to me to -embody a Frenchman’s ideal notion of the -Latin poet; something a little more cut and -dry than I had looked for; compact and -elegant, critical and acute, with a consciousness -of authorship upon him; a taste over-anxious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> -not to commit itself, and refining -and diminishing nature as in a drawing-room -mirror. This fancy was strengthened, in the -course of conversation, by his expatiating on -the greatness of Racine. I think he had a -volume of the French poet in his hand. His -skull was sharply cut and fine; with plenty, -according to the phrenologists, both of the -reflective and amative organs; and his poetry -will bear them out. For a lettered solitude, -and a bridal properly got up, both according -to law and luxury, commend us to the lovely -<i>Gertrude of Wyoming</i>. His face and person -were rather on a small scale; his features -regular; his eye lively and penetrating; and -when he spoke, dimples played about his -mouth, which, nevertheless, had something -restrained and close in it. Some gentle -puritan seemed to have crossed the breed, -and to have left a stamp on his face, such as -we often see in the female Scotch face rather -than in the male. But he appeared not at -all grateful for this; and when his critiques<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> -and his Virgilianism were over, very unlike a -puritan he talked! He seemed to spite his -restrictions, and, out of the natural largeness -of his sympathy with things high and low, to -break at once out of Delille’s Virgil into -Cotton’s, like a boy let loose from school. -When I had the pleasure of hearing him -afterwards, I forgot his Virgilianisms, and -thought only of the delightful companion, the -unaffected philanthropist, and the creator of -a beauty worth all the heroines in Racine.”—About -1809.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Patmore’s <i>Sketch<br /> -from Real Life</i>.</div> - - -<p>“The person of this exquisite writer and -delightful man is small, delicately formed, -and neatly put together, without -being little or insignificant. His -face has all the harmonious arrangement of -features which marks his gentle and refined -mind; it is oval, perfectly regular in its details, -and lighted up not merely by ‘eyes of youth,’ -but by a bland smile of intellectual serenity -that seems to pervade and penetrate all the -features, and impart to them all a corresponding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> -expression, such as the moonlight lends -to a summer landscape; the moonlight, not -the sunshine; for there is a mild and tender -pathos blended with that expression, which -bespeaks a soul that has been steeped in the -depths of human woe, but has turned their -waters (as only poets can) into fountains of -beauty and of bliss.”</p> - - -<div class="sidenote">Beattie’s <i>Life<br /> -and Letters of<br /> -Thomas Campbell</i>.</div> - - -<p>“He was generally careful as to dress, -and had none of Dr. Johnson’s indifference -to fine linen. His wigs were -always nicely adjusted, and -scarcely distinguishable from -natural hair. His appearance was interesting -and handsome. Though rather below the -middle size, he did not seem little; and his -large dark eye and countenance bespoke great -sensibility and acuteness. His thin quivering -lip and delicate nostril were highly expressive. -When he spoke, as Leigh Hunt -has remarked, dimples played about his -mouth, which, nevertheless, had something -restrained and close in it.... In personal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> -neatness and fastidiousness—no less than -in genius and taste—Campbell in his best days -resembled Gray. Each was distinguished by -the same careful finish in composition—the -same classical predilections and lyrical fire, -rarely but strikingly displayed. In ordinary -life they were both somewhat finical—yet -with greater freedom and idiomatic plainness -in their unreserved communications—Gray’s -being evinced in his letters, and Campbell’s -in conversation.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">THOMAS CARLYLE<br /> - -<small>1795-1881</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Caroline Fox’s<br /> -<i>Journals and<br /> -Letters</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Carlyle</span> soon appeared, and looked as if -he felt a well-dressed London crowd scarcely -the arena for him to figure in as -a popular lecturer. He is a tall, -robust-looking man; rugged simplicity -and indomitable strength are in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> -face, and such a glow of genius in it,—not -always smouldering there, but flashing from -his beautiful gray eyes, from the remoteness -of their deep setting under that massive -brow. His manner is very quiet, but he -speaks like one tremendously convinced of -what he utters.... He began in a rather -low nervous voice, with a broad Scotch -accent, but it soon grew firm, and shrank not -abashed from its great task.”—1840.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Froude’s<br /> -<i>Carlyle</i>.</div> - -<p>“He was then fifty-four years old; tall -(about five feet eleven), thin, but at the same -time upright, with no signs of the later -stoop. His body was angular, his face -beardless, such as it is represented in Woolner’s -medallion, which is by far the best -likeness of him in the days of his strength. -His head was extremely long, with the chin -thrust forward; the neck was thin; the mouth -firmly closed, the under lip slightly projecting; -the hair grizzled and thick and bushy. His -eyes, which grew lighter with age, were then -of a deep violet, with fire burning at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> -bottom of them, which flashed out at the -least excitement. The face was altogether -most striking, most impressive in every way. -And I did not admire him the less because -he treated me—I cannot say unkindly, but -shortly and sternly. I saw then what I saw -ever after—that no one need look for conventional -politeness from Carlyle—he would -hear the exact truth from him and nothing -else.”—1849.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wylie’s<br /> -<i>Carlyle</i>.</div> - - -<p>“The maid went forward and said something -to Carlyle and left the room. He was -sitting before a fire in an arm-chair, -propped up with pillows, with his feet -on a stool, and looked much older than I -had expected. The lower part of his face -was covered with a rather shaggy beard, -almost quite white. His eyes were bright -blue, but looked filmy from age. He had on -a sort of coloured night-cap, a long gown -reaching to his ankles, and slippers on his -feet. A rest attached to the arm of his chair -supported a book before him. I could not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> -quite see the name, but I think it was -Channing’s works. Leaning against the -fireplace was a long clay pipe, and there was -a slight smell of tobacco in the room.... -His hands were very thin and wasted, he -showed us how they shook and trembled -unless he rested them on something, and said -they were failing him from weakness.... -He seemed such a venerable old man, and -so worn and old looking, that I was very much -affected. Our visit was on Tuesday, 18th -May 1880, at about 2 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">THOMAS CHATTERTON<br /> - -<small>1752-1770</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Wilson’s<br /> -<i>Chatterton</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“It</span> is to be feared that no authentic portrait -of Chatterton exists; and even the accounts -furnished as to his appearance, only -partially aid us in realising an idea -of the manly, handsome boy, with his flashing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> -hawklike eye, through which even the -Bristol pewterer thought he could see his -soul. His forehead one fancies must have -been high; though hidden, perhaps, as in -the supposed Gainsborough portrait, with -long flowing hair. His mouth, like that of -his father, was large. But the brilliancy of -his eyes seems to have diverted attention -from every other feature; and they have -been repeatedly noted for the way in which -they appeared to kindle in sympathy with his -earnest utterances. Mr. Edward Gardner, -who only knew him during his last three -months in Bristol, specially recalled ‘the -philosophic gravity of his countenance, and -the keen lightening of his eye.’ Mr. Capel, -on the contrary, resided as an apprentice in -the same house where Lambert’s office was, -and saw Chatterton daily. His advances had -been repelled at times with the flashing -glances of the poet; and the terms in which -he speaks of his pride and visible contempt -for others show there was little friendship<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> -between them. But he also remarks: ‘Upon -his being irritated or otherwise greatly -affected, there was a light in his eyes which -seemed very remarkable.’ He had frequently -heard this referred to by others; and Mr. -George Catcott speaks of it as one who had -often quailed before such glances, or been -spell-bound, like Coleridge’s wedding guest -by the ‘glittering eye’ of the Ancient Mariner. -He said he could never look at it long enough -to see what sort of an eye it was; but it -seemed to be a kind of hawk’s eye. You -could see his soul through it.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Gregory’s <i>Life<br /> -of Chatterton</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“The person of Chatterton, like his genius, -was premature; he had a manliness and -dignity beyond his years, and -there was a something about him -uncommonly prepossessing. His more remarkable -feature was his eyes which, though -gray, were uncommonly piercing; when he -was warmed in argument or otherwise, they -sparked with fire, and one eye, it is said, was -still more remarkable than the other.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">GEOFFREY CHAUCER<br /> - -<small>ABOUT 1340-1400</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Nicholas’s<br /> -<i>Life of Chaucer</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> affection of Occleve” (<i>his contemporary -and dear friend</i>) “has made Chaucer’s person -better known than that of any -individual of his age. The portrait -of which an engraving illustrates this memoir, -is taken from Occleve’s painting already -mentioned in the Harleian MS. 4866, which -he says was painted from memory after -Chaucer’s decease, and which is apparently -the only genuine portrait in existence. The -figure, which is half-length, has a background -of green tapestry. He is represented with -gray hair and beard, which is bi-forked; he -wears a dark-coloured dress and hood, his -right hand is extended, and in his left he -holds a string of beads. From his vest a -black case is suspended, which appears to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> -contain a knife, or possibly a ‘penner’<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> or -pencase. The expression of the countenance -is intelligent, but the fire of the eye seems -quenched, and evident marks of advanced -age appear on the countenance. This is -incomparably the best portrait of Chaucer -yet discovered.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Nicholas’s<br /> -<i>Life of Chaucer</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“There is a third portrait in a copy of the -<i>Canterbury Tales</i> made about the reign of -King Henry the Fifth, being -within twenty years of the poet’s -death, in the Lansdowne MS. 851. The -figure, which is a small full-length, is placed in -the initial letter of the volume. He is dressed -in a long gray gown, with red stockings, and -black shoes fastened with black sandals round -the ankles. His head is bare, and the hair -closely cut. In his right hand he holds an -open book; and a knife or pencase, as in the -other portraits, is attached to his vest.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span><i>Tradition asserts that Chaucer merged his -own personality in that of the Poet in his</i> -Canterbury Tales.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Prologue to<br /> -<i>The Rime of<br /> -Sire Thopas</i>.</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“... Our Hoste to japen he began,</div> -<div class="verse">And than at erst he loked upon me,</div> -<div class="verse">And saide thus; ‘What man art thou?’ quod he;</div> -<div class="verse">‘Thou lokest, as thou woldest finde an hare,</div> -<div class="verse">For ever upon the ground I see thee stare.</div> -</div> - <div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘Approche nere, and loke up merily.</div> -<div class="verse">Now ware you, sires, and let this man have place.</div> -<div class="verse">He in the waste is shapen as wel as I:</div> -<div class="verse">This were a popet,<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> in an arme to enbrace</div> -<div class="verse">For any woman, smal and faire of face.</div> -<div class="verse">He semeth elvish<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> by his contenance,</div> -<div class="verse">For unto no wight doth he daliance.’”</div> -</div></div></div> - - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">PHILIP, LORD CHESTERFIELD<br /> - -<small>1694-1773</small></h2></div> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Life and Letters<br /> -of Lord Chesterfield.</i></div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Philip Dormer Stanhope</span>, Earl of Chesterfield, -was a slight-made man, of the middle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> -size; rather genteel than handsome either -in face or person: but there was a certain -suavity in his countenance, -which, accompanied with a -polite address and pleasing elocution, obtained -him in a wonderful degree the admiration of -both sexes, and made his suit irresistible -with either. He was naturally possessed -of a fine sensibility; but by a habit of -mastering his passions and disguising his -feelings, he at length arrived at the appearance -of the most perfect Stoicism: nothing -surprised, alarmed, or discomposed him.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Hayward’s<br /> -<i>Lord Chesterfield</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“The name of Chesterfield has become a -synonym for good breeding and politeness. -It is associated in our minds -with all that is graceful in manner -and cold in heart, attractive in appearance -and unamiable in reality. The image -it calls up is that of a man rather below the -middle height, in a court suit and blue -riband, with regular features wearing an -habitual expression of gentleman-like ease.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> -His address is insinuating, his bow perfect, -his compliments rival those of <i>Le Grand -Monarque</i> in delicacy; laughter is too demonstrative -for him, but the smile of courtesy -is ever on his lips; and by the time he has -gone through the circle, the great object of -his daily ambition is accomplished—all the -women are already half in love with him, and -every man is desirous to be his friend.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Blackwood’s<br /> -Magazine</i>, 1868.</div> - - -<p>“... Lord Hervey pauses in his story -of Queen Caroline and her Court to describe -with cutting and bitter force the -character and appearance of his -rival courtier.... ‘His person was as disagreeable -as it was possible for a human -figure to be without being deformed,’ he says. -‘He was very short, disproportioned, thick -and clumsily made, with black teeth, and a -head big enough for a Polyphemus. One -Ben Ashurst, who said few good things -though admired for many, told Lord Chesterfield -once that he was like a stunted giant, -which was a humorous idea, and really<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> -apposite.’... The defects of his personal -appearance are evidently exaggerated in -this truculent sketch; but his portrait by -Gainsborough, which is said to be the best, -affords some foundation for the picture. The -face is heavy, rugged, and unlovely, though -full of force and intelligence; and his unheroic -form and stature are points which -Chesterfield himself does not attempt to -conceal.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">WILLIAM COBBETT<br /> - -<small>1762-1835</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Bamford’s<br /> -<i>Passages in the<br /> -Life of a Radical</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Had</span> I met him anywhere else save in the -room and on that occasion, I should have -taken him for a gentleman -farming his own broad estate. He -seemed to have that kind of self-possession -and ease about him, together -with a certain bantering jollity, which are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> -so natural to fast-handed and well-housed -lords of the soil. He was, I should suppose, -not less than six feet in height, portly, with a -fresh, clear, and round cheek, and a small -gray eye, twinkling with good-humoured -archness. He was dressed in a blue coat, -yellow swan’s-down waistcoat, drab kerseymere -small-clothes, and top-boots. His hair -was gray, and his cravat and linen fine, and -very white.”—1818.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Hazlitt’s<br /> -<i>Table Talk</i>.</div> - - -<p>“Mr. Cobbett speaks almost as well as he -writes. The only time I ever saw him he -seemed to me a very pleasant man, -easy of access, affable, clear-headed, -simple and mild in his manner, deliberate -and unruffled in his speech, though some of -his expressions were not very qualified. His -figure is tall and portly. He has a good, -sensible face, rather full, with little gray eyes, -a hard square forehead, a ruddy complexion, -with hair gray or powdered; and had on a -scarlet broadcloth waistcoat with the flaps of -the pockets hanging down, as was the custom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> -for gentleman farmers in the last century, or -as we see it in pictures of members of parliament -in the reign of George I. I certainly -did not think less favourably of him for seeing -him.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Watson’s<br /> -<i>Biographies of<br /> -Wilkes and Cobbett</i>.</div> - -<p>“In stature the late Mr. Cobbett was tall -and athletic. I should think he could not -have been less than six feet two, -while his breadth was proportionately -great. He was indeed -one of the stoutest men in the House.... -His hair was of a milk-white colour, and -his complexion ruddy. His features were -not strongly marked. What struck you -most about his face was his small, sparkling, -laughing eyes. When disposed to be -humorous yourself, you had only to look at -his eyes, and you were sure to sympathise -with his merriment. When not speaking, -the expression of his eye and his countenance -was very different. He was one of the -most striking refutations of the principles of -Lavater I ever witnessed. Never were the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> -looks of any man more completely at -variance with his character. There was -something so heavy and dull about his whole -appearance, that any one who did not know -him would at once set him down for some -country clodpole, to use a favourite expression -of his own, who not only had never read a -book, or had a single idea in his head, but -who was a mere mass of mortality, without -a particle of sensibility of any kind in his -composition. He usually sat with one leg -over the other, his head slightly drooping, as -if sleeping, on his breast, and his hat down -almost to his eyes. His usual dress was a -light-gray coat of a full make, a white waistcoat, -and kerseymere breeches of a sandy -colour. When he walked about the House, -he generally had his hands inserted in his -breeches’ pocket. Considering his advanced -age, seventy-three, he looked remarkably hale -and healthy, and walked with a firm but slow -step.”—1835.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">HARTLEY COLERIDGE<br /> - -<small>1796-1849</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Derwent<br /> -Coleridge’s<br /> -<i>Memoir of<br /> -Hartley Coleridge</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“I first</span> saw Hartley in the beginning, I -think, of 1837, when I was at Sedbergh, and -he heard us our lesson in Mr. -Green’s parlour. My impression -of him was what I conceived -Shakespeare’s idea of a gentleman to -be, something which we like to have in a picture. -He was dressed in black, his hair, -just touched with gray, fell in thick waves -down his back, and he had a frilled shirt on; -and there was a sort of autumnal ripeness -and brightness about him. His shrill voice, -and his quick, authoritative ‘Right! right!’ -and the chuckle with which he translated -‘rerum repetundarum’ as ‘peculation, a very -common vice in governors of all ages,’<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> -after which he took a turn round the sofa—all -struck me amazingly.”—1837.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Derwent<br /> -Coleridge’s<br /> -<i>Memoir of<br /> -Hartley Coleridge</i>.</div> - -<p>“His manners and appearance were -peculiar. Though not dwarfish either in form -or expression, his stature was -remarkably low, scarcely exceeding -five feet, and he early -acquired the gait and general appearance -of advanced age. His once dark, lustrous -hair, was prematurely silvered, and became -latterly quite white. His eyes, dark, soft, -and brilliant, were remarkably responsive to -the movements of his mind, flashing with a -light from within. His complexion, originally -clear and sanguine, looked weather-beaten, -and the contour of his face was -rendered less pleasing by the breadth of his -nose. His head was very small, the ear -delicately formed, and the forehead, which -receded slightly, very wide and expansive. -His hands and feet were also small and -delicate. His countenance when in repose, -or rather in stillness, was stern and thoughtful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> -in the extreme, indicating deep and -passionate meditation, so much so as to be at -times almost startling. His low bow on -entering a room, in which there were ladies -or strangers, gave a formality to his address, -which wore at first the appearance of constraint; -but when he began to talk these -impressions were presently changed,—he -threw off the seeming weight of years, his -countenance became genial, and his manner -free and gracious.”—1843.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Littell’s<br /> -<i>Living Age</i>,<br /> -1849.</div> - -<p>“His head was large and expressive, with -dark eyes and white waving locks, and resting -upon broad shoulders, with the -smallest possible apology for a neck. -To a sturdy and ample frame were -appended legs and arms of a most disproportioned -shortness, and, ‘in his whole aspect -there was something indescribably elfish and -grotesque, such as limners do not love to -paint, nor ladies to look upon.’ He reminded -you of a spy-glass shut up, and you -wanted to take hold of him and pull him out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> -into a man of goodly proportions and average -stature. It was difficult to repress a smile -at his appearance as he approached, for the -elements were so quaintly combined in him -that he seemed like one of Cowley’s conceits -translated into flesh and blood.... His -manners were like those of men accustomed -to live much alone, simple, frank, and direct, -but not in all respects governed by the rules -of conventional politeness. It was difficult -for him to sit still. He was constantly -leaving his chair, walking about the room, -and then sitting down again, as if he were -haunted by an incurable restlessness. His -conversation was very interesting, and marked -by a vein of quiet humour not found in his -writings. He spoke with much deliberation, -and in regularly-constructed periods, which -might have been printed without any alteration. -There was a peculiarity in his voice -not easily described. He would begin -a sentence in a sort of subdued tone, -hardly above a whisper, and end it in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> -something between a bark and a growl.”—1848.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE<br /> - -<small>1772-1834</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">de Quincey’s<br /> -<i>Life and<br /> -Writings</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“I had</span> received directions for finding out -the house where Coleridge was visiting; and -in riding down a main street of -Bridgewater, I noticed a gateway -corresponding to the description -given me. Under this was standing and gazing -about him, a man whom I shall describe! -In height he might seem to be about five feet -eight (he was in reality about an inch and a -half taller, but his figure was of an order which -drowns the height); his person was broad -and full, and tended even to corpulence; his -complexion was fair, though not what painters -technically style fair, because it was associated -with black hair; his eyes were large<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> -and soft in their expression, and it was from -the peculiar haze or dreaminess which mixed -with their light that I recognised my object. -This was Coleridge.”—1807.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Bryan Procter’s<br /> -<i>Recollections of<br /> -Men of Letters</i>.</div> - -<p>“Coleridge had a weighty head, dreaming -gray eyes, full, sensual lips, and a look and -manner which were entirely wanting -in firmness and decision. His -motions also appeared weak and -undecided, and his voice had nothing of the -sharpness or ring of a resolute man. -When he spoke his words were thick -and slow, and when he read poetry his utterance -was altogether a chant.”—About 1820.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Froude’s <i>Life<br /> -of Carlyle</i>.</div> - -<p>“I have seen many curiosities; not the -least of them I reckon Coleridge, the Kantian -metaphysician and quondam Lake -Poet. I will tell you all about our -interview when we meet. Figure a fat, -flabby, incurvated personage, at once short, -rotund, and relaxed, with a watery mouth, -a snuffy nose, a pair of strange brown, timid, -yet earnest-looking eyes, a high tapering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> -brow, and a great bush of gray hair, and you -have some faint idea of Coleridge. He is a -kind, good soul, full of religion and affection -and poetry and animal magnetism. His -cardinal sin is that he wants <i>will</i>. He has -no resolution. He shrinks from pain or -labour in any of its shapes. His very attitude -bespeaks this. He never straightens -his knee-joints. He stoops with his fat, -ill-shapen shoulders, and in walking he does -not tread, but shovel and slide. My father -would call it ‘skluiffing.’ He is also always -busied to keep, by strong and frequent inhalations, -the water of his mouth from overflowing, -and his eyes have a look of anxious -impotence. He <i>would</i> do with all his heart, -but he knows he dares not. The conversation -of the man is much as I anticipated—a -forest of thoughts, some true, many false, -more <i>part</i> dubious, all of them ingenious in -some degree, often in a high degree. But -there is no method in his talk; he wanders -like a man sailing among many currents,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> -whithersoever his lazy mind directs him; and, -what is more unpleasant, he preaches, or -rather soliloquises. He cannot speak, he can -only <i>tal-k</i> (so he names it). Hence I found him -unprofitable, even tedious; but we parted very -good friends, I promising to go back and see -him some evening—a promise which I fully -intend to keep. I sent him a copy of -<i>Meister</i>, about which we had some friendly -talk. I reckon him a man of great and -useless genius: a strange, not at all a great -man.”—1824.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">WILLIAM COLLINS<br /> - -<small>1720-1756</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Gentleman’s<br /> -Magazine</i>, 1781.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Collins</span> I was intimately acquainted with -from the time that he came to reside at Oxford. -In London I met him often.... -He was of moderate stature, of -a light and clear complexion, with gray<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> -eyes so very weak at times as hardly to -bear a candle in the room, and often raising -within him apprehensions of blindness. He -was passionately fond of music, good-natured -and affable, warm in his friendships and -visionary in his pursuits, and, as long as I knew -him, temperate in his eating and drinking.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Johnson’s<br /> -<i>Life of<br /> -Collins</i>.</div> - -<p>“About this time I fell into his company. -His appearance was decent and manly; his -knowledge considerable, his views -extensive, his conversation elegant, -and his disposition cheerful.”—1744.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">J. Langhorne’s<br /> -<i>Memoirs of<br /> -William Collins</i>.</div> - - -<p>“Mr. Collins was, in stature, somewhat -above the middle size; of a brown complexion, -keen expressive eyes, and -a fixed sedate aspect, which, from -intense thinking, had contracted -an habitual frown. His proficiency in letters -was greater than could have been expected -from his years. He was skilled in -the learned languages, and acquainted with -the Italian, French, and Spanish.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">WILLIAM COWPER<br /> - -<small>1731-1800</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Cowper’s<br /> -<i>Letters</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“As</span> for me, I am a very smart youth of my -years. I am not indeed grown gray so much -as I am grown bald. No matter. -There was more hair in the world -than ever had the honour to belong to me. -Accordingly, having found just enough to -curl a little at my ears, and to intermingle -with a little of my own that still hangs behind, -I appear, if you see me in an afternoon, -to have a very decent head-dress, not easily -distinguished from my natural growth; which -being worn with a small bag, and a black -ribbon about my neck, continues to me the -charms of my youth, even on the verge of -age. Away with the fear of writing too -often.</p> - -<p class="indent1">“Yours, my dearest cousin,</p> - -<p class="right">“W. C.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>“<i>P.S.</i>—That the view I give you of myself -may be complete, I add the two following -items,—that I am in debt to nobody, and -that I grow fat.”—1785.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">H. F. Cary’s<br /> -<i>Notice of Cowper</i>.</div> - -<p>“Cowper was of a middle height, with -limbs strongly framed, hair of -light brown, eyes of a bluish -gray, and ruddy complexion.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Rossetti’s <i>Memoir<br /> -of Cowper</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“The eager, sudden-looking, large-eyed, -shaven face of Cowper is familiar to us in his -portraits—a face sharp-cut and -sufficiently well-moulded, without -being handsome, nor particularly sympathetic. -It is a high-strung, excitable face, -as of a man too susceptible and touchy to -put himself forward willingly among his -fellows, but who, feeling a ‘vocation’ upon -him, would be more than merely earnest,—self-asserting, -aggressive, and unyielding. -This is in fact very much the character of his -writings.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">GEORGE CRABBE<br /> - -<small>1754-1832</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Life of Crabbe</i>,<br /> -by his son.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“In</span> the eye of memory I can still see him as -he was at that period of his life,—his fatherly -countenance unmixed with any -of the less lovable expressions -that in too many faces obscure that character; -but pre-eminently <i>fatherly</i>, conveying the -ideas of kindness, intellect, and purity; his -manner grave, manly, and cheerful, in unison -with his high and open forehead; his very -attitudes, whether as he sat absorbed in the -arrangement of his minerals, shells, and -insects; or as he laboured in his garden until -his naturally pale complexion acquired a tinge -of fresh healthy red; or as, coming lightly -towards us with some unexpected present, his -smile of indescribable benevolence spoke exultation -in the foretaste of our raptures.”—1789.</p> - - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Life of Crabbe</i>,<br /> -by his son.</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>“... Mr. Lockhart ... recently -favoured me with the following letter.... -‘His noble forehead, his bright -beaming eye, without anything of -old age about it—though he was then, I -presume, above seventy; his sweet, and, I -would say, innocent smile, and the calm -mellow tones of his voice, are all reproduced -the moment I open any page of his poetry.’”—1822.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - -<p>“In the appearance of Crabbe there was -little of the poet, but even less of the stern -critic of mankind, who looked at -nature askance, and ever contemplated -beauty animate or inanimate,—</p> - -<p class="center">‘The simple loves and simple joys,’</p> - -<p>‘through a glass darkly.’ On the contrary, -he seemed to my eyes the representative of -the class of rarely troubled, and seldom thinking, -English farmers. A clear gray eye, a -ruddy complexion, as if he loved exercise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> -and wooed mountain breezes, were the leading -characteristics of his countenance. It is a -picture of age, ‘frosty but kindly,’—that of -a tall and stalwart man gradually grown old, -to whom age was rather an ornament than -a blemish. He was one of those instances -of men, plain perhaps in youth, and homely -of countenance in manhood, who become -absolutely handsome when white hairs have -become a crown of glory, and indulgence in -excesses or perilous passions has left no lines -that speak of remorse, or even of errors -unatoned.”—1825-26.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">DANIEL DE FOE<br /> - -<small>1661-1731</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Secretary<br /> -of State’s<br /> -Proclamation.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Whereas</span>, Daniel De Foe, <i>alias</i> De Fooe, -is charged with writing a scandalous and -seditious pamphlet entitled <i>The Shortest -Way with the Dissenters</i>. He is a middle-sized<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> -spare man, about forty years old, of -a brown complexion, and dark -brown-colored hair, but wears a -wig; a hooked nose, a sharp chin, -gray eyes, and a large mole near his mouth.”—1703.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Wilson’s<br /> -<i>De Foe</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p>“A likeness of the author, engraved by -M. Vandergucht, from a painting by Taverner, -is prefixed.” (<i>To a volume of treatises -published in 1703.</i>) “It is the first -portrait of De Foe, and probably the most -like him. The following description of it by -a recent biographer is strikingly characteristic: -‘No portrait can have more verisimilitude, to -say the least of it. It exhibits a set of features -rather regular than otherwise, very determined -in its outlines, more particularly the mouth, -which expresses great firmness and resolution -of character. The eyes are full, black, and -grave-looking, but the impression of the -whole countenance is rather a striking than a -pleasing one. Daniel is here set forth in a -most lordly and full-bottomed wig, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> -flows down lower than his elbow, and rises -above his forehead with great amplitude of -curl. A richly-laced cravat, and fine loose-flowing -cloak completes his attire, and preserve, -we may suppose, the likeness of that -civic “gallantry” which Oldmixon ascribes -to Daniel on the occasion of his escorting -King William to the Lord Mayor’s feast. It -is altogether more like a picture of a substantial -citizen of the “surly breed” De Foe -has himself so often satirised, than that of a -poor pamphleteer languishing in jail after the -terrors of the pillory.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">John Forster’s<br /> -<i>Bibliographical<br /> -Essays</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“It is, to us, very pleasing to contemplate -the meeting of such a sovereign and such a -subject, as William and De Foe. -There was something not dissimilar -in their physical aspect, as in their -moral temperament resemblances undoubtedly -existed. The King was the elder by ten -years, but the middle size, the spare figure, -the hooked nose, the sharp chin, the keen -gray eye, the large forehead, and grave appearance,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> -were common to both. William’s -manner was cold, except in battle, and little -warmth was ascribed to De Foe’s, unless he -spoke of civil liberty.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHARLES DICKENS<br /> - -<small>1812-1870</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Forster’s <i>Life<br /> -of Dickens</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Very</span> different was his face in those days -from that which photography has made -familiar to the present generation. -A look of youthfulness first -attracted you, and then a candour and openness -of expression which made you sure of the -qualities within. The features were very -good. He had a capital forehead, a firm -nose with full wide nostrils, eyes wonderfully -beaming with intellect and running over with -humour and cheerfulness, and a rather -prominent mouth strongly marked with -sensibility. The head was altogether well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> -formed and symmetrical, and the air and -carriage of it was extremely spirited. The -hair so scant and grizzled in later days was -then of a rich brown and most luxuriant -abundance, and the bearded face of his last -two decades had hardly a vestige of hair or -whisker; but there was that in the face as I -first recollect it which no time could change, -and which remained implanted on it unalterably -to the last. This was the quickness, -keenness, and practical power, the eager, -restless, energetic outlook on each several -feature, that seemed to tell so little of a -student or writer of books, and so much of -a man of action and business in the world. -Light and motion flashed from every part of -it. <i>It was as if made of steel</i>, was said of it, -four or five years after the time to which I -am referring, by a most original and delicate -observer, the late Mrs. Carlyle. ‘What a -face is his to meet in a drawing-room!’ -wrote Leigh Hunt to me, the morning after -I had made them known to each other. ‘It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> -has the life and soul in it of fifty human -beings.’ In such sayings are expressed not -alone the restless and resistless vivacity and -force of which I have spoken, but that also -which lay beneath them of steadiness and -hard endurance.”—1838.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">J. T. Fields’s<br /> -<i>Yesterdays with<br /> -Authors</i>.</div> - -<p>“How well I recall the bleak winter -evening in 1842 when I first saw the handsome, -glowing face of the young -man who was even then famous -over half the globe! He came -bounding into the Tremont House, fresh from -the steamer that had brought him to our -shores, and his cheery voice rang through -the hall, as he gave a quick glance at the -new scenes opening upon him in a strange -land on first arriving at a Transatlantic hotel. -‘Here we are!’ he shouted, as the lights -burst upon the merry party just entering the -house, and several gentlemen came forward -to meet him. Ah, how happy and buoyant -he was then! Young, handsome, almost -worshipped for his genius, belted round by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> -such troops of friends as rarely ever man had, -coming to a new country to make new conquests -of fame and honor,—surely it was a -sight long to be remembered and never wholly -to be forgotten. The splendour of his endowments -and the personal interest he had won to -himself called forth all the enthusiasm of old -and young America, and I am glad to have -been among the first to welcome his arrival. -You ask me what was his appearance as he -ran, or rather flew, up the steps of the hotel, -and sprang into the hall? He seemed all on -fire with curiosity, and alive as I never saw -mortal before. From top to toe every fibre of -his body was unrestrained and alert. What -vigor, what keenness, what freshness of -spirit, possessed him! He laughed all over, -and did not care who heard him! He seemed -like the Emperor of Cheerfulness on a cruise -of pleasure, determined to conquer a realm -or two of fun every hour of his overflowing -existence. That night impressed itself on -my memory for all time, so far as I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> -concerned with things sublunary. It was -Dickens, the true ‘Boz,’ in flesh and blood, -who stood before us at last, and with my companions, -three or four lads of my own age, I -determined to sit up late that night.”—1842.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Cowden<br /> -Clarkes’ <i>Recollections<br /> -of writers</i>.</div> - - -<p>“Charles Dickens had that acute perception -of the comic side of things which causes -irrepressible brimming of the -eyes; and what eyes his were! -Large, dark blue, exquisitely -shaped, fringed with magnificently long and -thick lashes—they now swam in liquid, limpid -suffusion, when tears started into them from a -sense of humour or a sense of pathos, and -now darted quick flashes of fire when some -generous indignation at injustice, or some -high-wrought feeling of admiration at magnanimity, -or some sudden emotion of interest -and excitement touched him. Swift-glancing, -appreciative, rapidly observant, truly superb -orbits they were, worthy of the other features -in his manly, handsome face. The mouth -was singularly mobile, full-lipped, well-shaped,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> -and expressive; sensitive, nay restless, in its -susceptibility to impression that swayed him, -or sentiment that moved him. He, who saw -into apparently slightest trifles that were -fraught to his perception with deeper significance; -he, who beheld human nature with -insight almost superhuman, and who revered -good and abhorred evil with intensity, showed -instantaneously by his expressive countenance -the kind of idea that possessed him. This -made his conversation enthralling, his acting -first-rate, and his reading superlative.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">ISAAC D’ISRAELI<br /> - -<small>1766-1848</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Retrospect of<br /> -a long Life</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“I found</span> him a most kindly and courteous -gentleman, obviously of a tender, -loving nature, and certainly more -than willing to give me what I -asked for. I do not recall him as like his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> -illustrious son; if my memory serves me -rightly, he was rather fair than dark; not -above the middle height, with features calm in -expression; his eyes (which, however, were -always covered with spectacles) sparkling, -and searching, but indicating less the fire of -genius than the patient inquiry that formed -the staple of his books.”—1823.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Beaconsfield’s<br /> -<i>Memoirs of<br /> -Isaac D’Israeli</i>.</div> - - -<p>“As the world has always been fond of -personal details respecting men who have -been celebrated, I will mention -that he was fair, with a Bourbon -nose, and brown eyes of extraordinary -beauty and lustre. He wore a small -black velvet cap, but his white hair latterly -touched his shoulders in curls almost as -flowing as in his boyhood. His extremities -were delicate and well formed, and his leg, at -his last hour, as shapely as in his youth, which -showed the vigour of his frame. Latterly he -had become corpulent. He did not excel in -conversation, though in his domestic circle he -was garrulous. Everything interested him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> -and blind and eighty-two, he was still as -susceptible as a child.... He more resembled -Goldsmith than any man that I can -compare him to: in his conversation, his apparent -confusion of ideas ending with some felicitous -phrase of genius, his <i>naïveté</i>, his simplicity -not untouched with a dash of sarcasm -affecting innocence—one was often reminded -of the gifted and interesting friend of Burke and -Johnson. There was, however, one trait in -which my father did not resemble Goldsmith; -he had no vanity. Indeed, one of his few infirmities -was rather a deficiency of self-esteem.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Chorley’s<br /> -<i>Personal<br /> -Reminiscences</i>.</div> - -<p>“Mr. D’Israeli was announced.... An -old gentleman, <i>strictly</i> in his appearance; a -countenance which at first glance -(owing, perhaps, to the mouth, -which hangs), I fancied slightly -chargeable with solidity of expression, but -which developed strong sense as it talked; a -rather <i>soigné</i> style of dress for so old a man, -and a manner good-humoured, complimentary -(to Gebir), discursive and prosy, bespeaking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> -that engrossment and interest in his own -pursuits which might be expected to be found -in a person so patient in research and collection. -But there is a tone of <i>philosophe</i> (or I -fancied it), which I did not quite like.”—1838.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">JOHN DRYDEN<br /> - -<small>1631-1700</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Anderson’s<br /> -<i>Poets of<br /> -Great Britain</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Of</span> the person, private life, and domestic -manners of Dryden, very few particulars are -known. His picture by Kneller -would lead us to suppose that he -was graceful in his person; but -Kneller was a great mender of nature. From -the <i>State Poems</i> we learn that he was a -short, thick man. The nickname given him -by his enemies was <i>Poet Squab</i>. ‘I remember -plain John Dryden’ (says a writer -in the <i>Gentleman’s Magazine</i> for February -1745, who was then eighty-seven years of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> -age) ‘before he paid his court to the great, -in one uniform clothing of Norwich drugget. -I have eat tarts with him and Madam Reeve -(the actress) at the Mulberry Garden, when -our author advanced to a sword and <i>Chedreux</i> -wig (probably the wig that Swift has ridiculed -in <i>The Battle of the Books</i>). Posterity is -absolutely mistaken as to that great man. -Though forced to be a satirist, he was the -mildest creature breathing, and the readiest -to help the young and deserving. Though -his comedies are horribly full of <i>double -entendre</i>, yet ’twas owing to a false compliance -for a dissolute age; he was in -company the modestest man that ever conversed.’... -From those notices which he -has very liberally given us of himself, it -appears, that ‘his conversation was slow and -dull, his humour saturnine and reserved, and -that he was none of those who endeavour to -break jests in company, and make repartees.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Gilfillan’s<br /> -<i>Life of Dryden</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“As to his habits and manners little is -known, and that little is worn threadbare by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> -his many biographers. In appearance he -became in his maturer years fat and florid, -and obtained the name of ‘Poet -Squab.’ His portraits show a -shrewd but rather sluggish face, with long -gray hair floating down his cheeks, not -unlike Coleridge, but without his dreamy eye -like a nebulous star. His conversation was -less sprightly than solid. Sometimes men -suspected that he had ‘sold all his thoughts -to his booksellers.’ His manners are by his -friends pronounced ‘modest,’ and the word -modest has since been amiably confounded -by his biographers with ‘pure.’ Bashful he -seems to have been to awkwardness; but he -was by no means a model of the virtues. He -loved to sit at Will’s coffee-house and be the -arbiter of criticism. His favourite stimulus -was snuff, and his favourite amusement -angling. He had a bad address, a down -look, and little of the air of a gentleman.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Christie’s<br /> -<i>Memoir of<br /> -Dryden</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“Some notion of Dryden’s personal -appearance may be gathered from contemporary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> -notices. He was of short stature, stout, -and ruddy in the face. Rochester christened -him ‘Poet Squab,’ and Tom Brown -always calls him ‘Little Bayes.’ -Shadwell, in his <i>Medal of John -Bayes</i>, sneers at him as a cherry-cheeked -dunce; another lampooner calls him ‘learned -and florid.’ Pope remembered him as plump -and of fresh colour, with a down look. Lady -de Longueville, who died in 1763 at the age -of a hundred, told Oldys that she remembered -Dryden dining with her husband, and that -the most remarkable part of his appearance -was an uncommon distance between his eyes. -He had a large mole on his right cheek. -The friendly writer of some lines on his -portrait by Closterman says:</p> - -<p class="center">‘A sleepy eye he shows, and no sweet feature.’</p> - -<p>He appears to have become gray comparatively -early, and he let his gray hair grow long. We -see him with his long gray locks in the portrait -by which, through engravings, his face is best -known to us, painted by Kneller in 1698.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> -The face, as we know it by that picture and -the engravings, is handsome, it indicates -intellect, and sensual characteristics are not -wanting.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MARY ANNE EVANS<br /> - -<small>(<span class="smcap">George Eliot</span>)</small><br /> - -<small>1819-1880</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Harper’s<br /> -Magazine</i>,<br /> -1881.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“In</span> more than one striking passage in his -novels Mr. Hardy has recognised the fact -that the beauty of the future, as the -race is more developed in intellect, -cannot be the mere physical beauty -of the past; and in one of the most remarkable -he says that ‘ideal physical beauty -is incompatible with mental development, -and a full recognition of the evil of things. -Mental luminousness must be fed with the -oil of life, even though there is already a -physical need for it.’ And this was the case -with George Eliot. The face was one of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> -group of four, not all equally like each other, -but all of the same spiritual family, and with -a curious interdependance of likeness. These -four are Dante, Savonarola, Cardinal Newman, -and herself.... In the group of which -George Eliot was one there is the same -straight wall of brow; the droop of the -powerful nose; mobile lips, touched with -strong passion, kept resolutely under control; -a square jaw, which would make the face -stern, were it not counteracted by the sweet -smile of lip and eye.... The two or three -portraits that exist, though valuable, give but -a very imperfect presentiment. The mere -shape of the head would be the despair of any -painter. It was so grand and massive that -it would scarcely be possible to represent it -without giving the idea of disproportion to -the frame of which no one ever thought for a -moment when they saw her, although it was a -surprise, when she stood up, to see that after -all, she was but a little fragile woman who -bore this weight of brow and brain.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Century</i>,<br /> -1881.</div> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>“Everything in her aspect and presence -was in keeping with the bent of her soul. -The deeply-lined face, the too -marked and massive features, were -united with an air of delicate refinement, -which in one way was the more impressive -because it seemed to proceed so entirely from -within. Nay, the inward beauty would sometimes -quite transform the external harshness; -there would be moments when the thin hands -that entwined themselves in their eagerness, -the earnest figure that bowed forward to -speak and hear, the deep gaze moving from -one face to another with a grave appeal,—all -these seemed the transparent symbols that -showed the presence of a wise benignant soul. -But it was the voice which best revealed her, -a voice whose subdued intensity and tremulous -richness seemed to environ her uttered -words with the mystery of a work of feeling -that must remain untold.... And then -again, when in moments of more intimate -converse some current of emotion would set<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> -strongly through her soul, when she would -raise her head in unconscious absorption and -look out into the unseen, her expression was -not one to be soon forgotten. It had not, -indeed, the serene felicity of souls to whose -child-like confidence all heaven and earth are -fair. Rather it was the look (if I may use -a platonic phrase) of a strenuous Demiurge, -of a soul on which high tasks are laid, and -which finds in their accomplishment its only -imagination of joy.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">William<br /> -Morgan’s<br /> -<i>George Eliot</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“I was disappointed when I found the -illustrated papers gave no portraits of George -Eliot, and I afterwards learned that, -celebrated as she is in other ways, -she enjoys the rare, and perhaps -unique, distinction that she was never photographed. -Two portraits of her are, however, -in existence. One, by Mr. Lawrence, hangs -in Mr. Blackwood’s drawing-room in Edinburgh; -the other, by Mr. Buxton, was in her -own house at Chelsea. She is described as a -woman of large, massive, and homely features,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> -which were softened and irradiated by a -gracious and winning smile. The size, shape, -and poise of her head were very noticeable, -and some of her friends have been struck by -her resemblance to the portrait of Savonarola -by Fra Bartolommea. Her voice was rich -and melodious, and those who best knew her -speak of her as a strangely fascinating and -sympathetic woman, who left on every one -who approached her an impression of -goodness and greatness. Her conversation -had no traces of the rich humour which runs -through some of her writings, but she joined -very heartily in the jocularity of others.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HENRY FIELDING<br /> - -<small>1707-1754</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Roscoe’s<br /> -<i>Life of<br /> -Fielding</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“With</span> regard to his personal appearance, -Fielding was strongly built, robust, and in -height rather exceeding six feet; he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> -also remarkably active, till repeated attacks -of gout had broken down the vigour of -a fine constitution. Naturally of a -dignified presence, he was equally -impressive in his tone and manner, -which added to his peculiarly-marked features; -his conversational powers and rare wit must -have given him a decided influence in general -society, and not a little ascendency over the -minds of common men.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Jeaffreson’s<br /> -<i>Novels and<br /> -Novelists</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p>“That our nation was well and favourably -represented by him, amongst the lads at the -university, there can be no doubt; -for he was a magnificent fellow, -frank in bearing, agile as a trained -wrestler, rather exceeding six feet in height, -with a face, both by aristocratic features and -gallant expression, remarkably engaging, with -a fresh, slightly ruddy complexion, and a -winning smile of the most mirthful intelligence, -with an air commanding, but -free from the slightest taint of haughtiness, -and lastly, with a disposition as well endowed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> -as his mind,—generous and truly noble as -became one sprung from the seed of kings.”—1725.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Lawrence’s<br /> -<i>Life of<br /> -Fielding</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“The personal appearance of the great -novelist has been thus described by his -friend, Mr. Arthur Murphy: ‘Henry -Fielding was in stature rather rising -above six feet; his frame of body -large and remarkably robust, till the gout -had broken the vigour of his constitution.’ -His features were marked and striking, so -much so, that a portrait of him was painted -by his friend Hogarth from memory, with -the assistance of a profile which had been -cut in paper with a pair of scissors by a lady. -Though he was singularly handsome in his -youth, in his later years it appears, from his -own account, that his gouty and dropsical -figure was anything but agreeable to behold. -But his cheerfulness and good temper -rendered him to the last a delightful companion, -and endeared him to his family and -friends.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">JOHN GAY<br /> - -<small>1688-1732</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Coxe’s<br /> -<i>Life of<br /> -John Gay</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“His</span> physiognomy does not appear to have -been remarkable for strong lines or expressive -features, it rather denoted benignity -and meekness.... In his person -Gay was inclined to corpulency; a -circumstance which he humorously alludes -to in his Epistle to Lord Burlington:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="indent">‘You knew fat bards might tire,</div> -<div class="verse">And mounted sent me forth your trusty squire.’</div> -</div></div> - -<p>His natural corpulency was increased by -extreme indolence, for which his friends -often rallied him. Swift, in a letter to the -Duchess of Queensberry, thus expresses -himself on this subject: ‘You need not be -in pain about Mr. Gay’s stock of health; I -promise you he will spend it all upon laziness, -and run deep in debt by a winter’s repose in -town; therefore I entreat your Grace will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> -order him to move his chaps less, and his -legs more, the six cold months, else he will -spend all his money in physic and coach-hire.’—8th -October 1731.... In the early -part of his life Gay was extremely fond of -dress.... Pope also touches upon this weakness -in a letter to Swift.—18th December -1713.</p> - -<p>... “‘One Mr. Gay, an unhappy youth, -who writes pastorals during the time of -divine service; whose case is the more -deplorable, as he hath miserably lavished -away all that silver he should have reserved -for his soul’s health in buttons and loops for -his coat.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Thackeray’s<br /> -<i>English<br /> -Humourists</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“In the portraits of the literary worthies -of the early part of the last century, Gay’s -face is the pleasantest perhaps of all. -It appears adorned with neither -periwig nor nightcap (the full dress -and <i>négligée</i> of learning without which the -painters of those days scarcely ever pourtrayed -wits), and he laughs at you over his shoulder<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> -with an honest boyish glee—an artless sweet -humour. He was so kind, so gentle, so -jocular, so delightfully brisk at times, so -dismally woe-begone at others, such a natural -good creature, that the Giants loved him.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">EDWARD GIBBON<br /> - -<small>1737-1794</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Colman’s<br /> -<i>Random<br /> -Recollections</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> learned Gibbon was a curious counter-balance -to the learned (may I not say -the less learned) Johnson. Their -manners and tastes, both in writing -and conversation, were as different -as their habiliments. On the day I first sat -down with Johnson in his rusty brown suit -and his black worsted stockings, Gibbon was -placed opposite to me in a suit of flowered -velvet, with a bag and sword. Each had his -measured phraseology, and Johnson’s famous -parallel between Dryden and Pope might be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> -loosely parodied in reference to himself and -Gibbon. Johnson’s style was grand, and -Gibbon’s elegant: the stateliness of the -former was sometimes pedantic, and the -latter was occasionally finical. Johnson -marched to kettledrums and trumpets, Gibbon -moved to flutes and hautboys. Johnson -hewed passages through the Alps, while -Gibbon levelled walks through parks and -gardens. Mauled as I had been by Johnson, -Gibbon poured balm upon my bruises by -condescending once or twice in the course of -the evening to talk with me. The great -historian was light and playful, suiting his -matter to the capacity of a boy; but it was -done <i>more suo</i>—still his mannerism prevailed, -still he tapped his snuff-box, still he smirked -and smiled, and rounded his periods with -the same air of good-breeding, as if he were -conversing with men. His mouth, mellifluous -as Plato’s, was a round hole nearly in the -centre of his visage.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Lord<br /> -Sheffield’s<br /> -<i>Gibbon</i>.</div> - - -<p>“M. Pavilliard has described to me the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> -astonishment with which he gazed on Mr. -Gibbon standing before him; a thin little -figure, with a large head, disputing -and urging, with the greatest ability, -all the best arguments that had ever -been used in favour of popery. Mr. Gibbon -many years ago became very fat and corpulent, -but he had uncommonly small bones, -and was very slightly made.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Quarterly<br /> -Review</i>,<br /> -1809.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“As to his manners in society, without -doubt the agreeableness of Gibbon was -neither that yielding and retiring complaisance, -nor that modesty which is -forgetful of self; but his vanity never -showed itself in an offensive manner: anxious -to succeed and to please, he wished to -command attention, and obtained it without -difficulty by a conversation animated, sprightly, -and full of matter: all that was dictatorial in -his tone betrayed not so much that desire of -domineering over others, which is always -offensive, as confidence in himself. Notwithstanding -this, his conversation never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> -carried one away; its fault was a kind of -arrangement which never permitted him to -say anything unless well.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">WILLIAM GODWIN<br /> - -<small>1756-1836</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“In</span> person he was remarkably sedate and -solemn, resembling in dress and manner a -Dissenting minister rather than the -advocate of ‘free-thought’ in all -things—religious, moral, social, -and intellectual; he was short and stout, -his clothes loosely and carelessly put on, -and usually old and worn; his hands were -generally in his pockets; he had a remarkably -large, bald head, and a weak voice; -seeming generally half asleep when he -walked, and even when he talked. Few -who saw this man of calm exterior, quiet -manners, and inexpressive features, could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> -have believed him to have originated three -romances—<i>Falkland</i>, <i>Caleb Williams</i>, and <i>St. -Leon</i>,—not yet forgotten because of their -terrible excitements; and the work, <i>Political -Justice</i>, which for a time created a sensation -that was a fear in every state of Europe.... -Lamb called him ‘a good-natured heathen’; -Southey said of him, in 1797, ‘He has large -noble eyes, and a nose—oh! most abominable -nose.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">George Ticknor’s<br /> -<i>Life</i>.</div> - -<p>“Godwin is as far removed from everything -feverish and exciting as if his head had -never been filled with anything -but geometry. He is now about -sixty-five, stout, well-built, and unbroken by -age, with a cool, dogged manner, exactly -opposite to everything I had imagined of the -author of <i>St. Leon</i> and <i>Caleb Williams</i>.”—1819.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">H. Martineau’s<br /> -<i>Autobiography</i>.</div> - -<p>“The mention of Coleridge reminds me, I -hardly know why, of Godwin, -who was an occasional morning -visitor of mine. I looked upon him as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> -curious monument of a bygone state of -society; and there was still a good deal that -was interesting in him. His fine head was -striking, and his countenance remarkable. It -must not be judged of by the pretended -likeness put forth in <i>Fraser’s Magazine</i> about -that time, and attributed, with the whole -set, to Maclise.... The high Tory -favourites of the Magazine were exhibited -to the best advantage; while Liberals were -represented as Godwin was. Because the -finest thing about him was his noble head, -they put on a hat; and they represented him -in profile because he had lost his teeth, and -his lips fell in. No notion of Godwin’s face -could have been formed from that caricature.”—1833.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">OLIVER GOLDSMITH<br /> - -<small>1728-1774</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Forster’s <i>Life<br /> -and Times<br /> -of Oliver<br /> -Goldsmith</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“You</span> scarcely can conceive how much eight -years of disappointment, anguish, and study,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> -have worn me down.... Imagine to yourself -a pale melancholy visage, with two great -wrinkles between the eyebrows, -with an eye disgustingly severe, and, -a big wig, and you may have a -perfect picture of my present appearance.... -I can neither laugh nor drink, have -contracted a hesitating disagreeable manner -of speaking, and a visage that looks ill-nature -itself; in short, I have thought myself into -a settled melancholy, and an utter disgust of -all that life brings with it.”—1759.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Boswell’s <i>Life<br /> -of Dr. Johnson</i>.</div> - -<p>“He was very much what the French call -<i>un étourdi</i>, and from vanity and an eager -desire of being conspicuous wherever -he was, he frequently talked -carelessly without knowledge of the subject, -or even without thought. His person was -short, his countenance coarse and vulgar, his -deportment that of a scholar awkwardly -affecting the easy gentleman.”—1763.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">R. Walsh’s<br /> -<i>British Poets</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“Nothing could be more amiable than the -general features of his mind; those of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> -person were not perhaps so engaging. His -stature was under the middle size, his body -strongly built, and his limbs more -sturdy than elegant. His complexion -was pale, his forehead low, his face -almost round and pitted with the small-pox, -but marked with strong lines of thinking. -His first appearance was not captivating; -but when he grew easy and cheerful in -company, he relaxed into such a display of -good-humour as soon removed every unfavourable -impression.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">DAVID GRAY<br /> - -<small>1838-1861</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Buchanan’s<br /> -<i>Life of David<br /> -Gray</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“At</span> twenty-one years of age ... David was -a tall young man, slightly but firmly built, and -with a stoop at the shoulders. His -head was small, fringed with black -curly hair. Want of candour was -not his fault, though he seldom looked one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> -in the face; his eyes, however, were large -and dark, full of intelligence and humour, -harmonising well with the long thin nose and -nervous lips. The great black eyes and -woman’s mouth betrayed the creature of -impulse; one whose reasoning faculties were -small, but whose temperament was like red-hot -coal. He sympathised with much that -was lofty, noble, and true in poetry, and with -much that was absurd and suicidal in the -poet. He carried sympathy to the highest -pitch of enthusiasm; he shed tears over -the memories of Keats and Burns, and he -was corybantic in his execution of a Scotch -‘reel.’”—1859.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">R. M. Milnes’s<br /> -<i>Notice on David<br /> -Gray</i>.</div> - - -<p>“I was told a young man wished to see -me, and when he came into the room I at -once saw it was no other than the -young Scotch poet. It was a -light, well-built, but somewhat -stooping figure, with a countenance that at -once brought strongly to my recollection a -cast of a face of Shelley in his youth, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> -I had seen at Mr. Leigh Hunt’s. There was -the same full brow, out-looking eyes, and -sensitive melancholy mouth.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Hedderwick’s<br /> -<i>Memoir of<br /> -David Gray</i>.</div> - -<p>“In person, the deceased poet was tall, -with a slight stoop. His head was not large, -but his temperament was of the -keenest and brightest edge. With -black curling hair, eyes dark, large, -and lustrous, and a complexion of almost -feminine delicacy, his appearance never -failed to make a favourable impression on -strangers.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">THOMAS GRAY<br /> - -<small>1716-1771</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Gosse’s<br /> -<i>Gray</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“In</span> one of Philip Gray’s fits of extravagance -he seems to have had a full-length of his son -painted about this time, by the fashionable -portrait-painter of the day, Jonathan -Richardson the elder. This picture is -now in the Fitzwilliam Museum at Cambridge.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> -The head is good in colour and modelling; -a broad pale brow, sharp nose and chin, large -eyes, and a pert expression, give a lively idea -of the precocious and not very healthy young -gentleman of thirteen. He is dressed in a -blue satin coat, lined with pale shot silk, and -crosses his stockinged legs so as to display -dapper slippers of russet leather.”—1729.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Warburton’s<br /> -<i>Horace Walpole<br /> -and his<br /> -contemporaries</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p>“Gray, judging from his portrait by -Echardt, lately at Strawberry Hill, was -eminently the poet and the -scholar in his appearance. A -delicate frame, a pale complexion, -an expansive forehead, clear eyes, a small -mouth, and regular features, bearing the -general impression of thoughtfulness and -melancholy, surrounded by his own hair, worn -long, prepossessed the spectator in his -favour, and charmed those who were already -his admirers.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Gosse’s<br /> -<i>Gray</i>.</div> - -<p>“Mr. Gray’s singular niceness in the -choice of his acquaintance makes him appear -fastidious in a great degree to all who are not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> -acquainted with his manner. He is of a fastidious -and recluse distance of carriage, rather -averse to all sociability, but of the -graver turn, nice and elegant in his -person, dress, and behaviour, even to a degree -of finicality and effeminacy.”—1770.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HENRY HALLAM<br /> - -<small>1777-1859</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Hallam</span> was a tall and remarkably handsome -man, very stately in look and manner. -His countenance was thoughtful and -intelligent, yet by no means stern. -On the contrary, he was kindly and -condescending. I had once occasion to -apply to him for information. He gave it -graciously and gracefully, and appeared as -if he had received instead of conferred a -compliment.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">George Ticknor’s<br /> -<i>Life</i>.</div> - -<p>“Mr. Hallam is, I suppose, about sixty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> -years old, gray-headed, hesitates a little in -his speech, is lame, and has a shy manner -which makes him blush frequently, -when he expresses as decided an -opinion as his temperament constantly leads -him to entertain. Except his lameness, he -has a fine dignified person, and talked -pleasantly, with that air of kindness which is -always so welcome to a stranger.... He is -a wise man, a little nervous in his manner -and a little fidgety, yet of a sound and quiet -judgment.”—1838.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Jerdan’s<br /> -<i>Men I have<br /> -known</i>.</div> - -<p>“A statue of him by Mr. Theed was -sculptured for St. Paul’s Cathedral, and a -good copy was exhibited at the last -National Exhibition, though I was -not altogether satisfied with the -likeness, nor thought the accessories well -chosen and happy; for a standing figure, -nevertheless, it has the great merit of simplicity.</p> - -<p>“Though habitually rather grave, the -pleasant smile best became his features, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> -I do not think he was often guilty of audible -laughter.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">WILLIAM HAZLITT<br /> - -<small>1778-1830</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Patmore’s<br /> -<i>Personal<br /> -Recollections</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> truth is, that for depth, force, and -variety of intellectual expression, a finer head -and face than Hazlitt’s were never -seen. I speak of them when his -countenance was not dimmed and -obscured by illness, or clouded and deformed -by those fearful indications of internal passion -which he never even attempted to conceal. -The expression of Hazlitt’s face, when anything -was said in his presence that seriously -offended him, or when any peculiarly painful -recollection passed across his mind, was truly -awful, more so than can be conceived as -within the capacity of the human countenance; -except, perhaps, by those who have -witnessed Edmund Kean’s last scene of ‘Sir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> -Giles Overreach’ from the front of the pit. -But when he was in good health, and in a -tolerable humour with himself and the world, -his face was more truly and entirely answerable -to the intellect that spoke through it, -than any other I ever saw, either in life or on -canvas; and its crowning portion—the brow -and forehead—was, to my thinking, quite -unequalled for mingled capacity and beauty.</p> - -<p>“For those who desire a more particular -description, I will add that Hazlitt’s features, -though not cast in any received classical -mould, were regular in their formation, -perfectly consonant with each other, and so -finely ‘chiseled’ (as the phrase is), that they -produced a much more prominent and striking -effect than their scale of size might have led -one to expect. The forehead, as I have -hinted, was magnificent; the nose precisely -that (combining strength with lightness and -elegance) which physiognomists have assigned -as evidence of a fine and highly cultivated -taste, though there was a peculiar character<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> -about the nostrils like that observable in -those of a fiery and unruly horse. The mouth, -from its ever-changing form and character, -could scarcely be described, except as to its -astonishingly varied power of expression, -which was equal to, and greatly resembled, that -of Edmund Kean. His eyes, I should say, -were not good. They were never brilliant, -and there was a furtive and at times a sinister -look about them, as they glanced suspiciously -from under their overhanging brows, that -conveyed a very unpleasant impression to -those who did not know him. And they -were seldom directed frankly and fairly -towards you, as if he were afraid that you -might read in them what was passing in his -mind concerning you. His head was nobly -formed and placed, with (until the last few -years of his life) a profusion of coal-black -hair, richly curled; and his person was of -middle height, rather slight, but well formed -and put together.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Bryan Procter’s<br /> -<i>Recollections of<br /> -Men of Letters</i>.</div> - - -<p>“My first meeting with Mr. Hazlitt took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> -place at the house of Leigh Hunt, where I -met him at supper. I expected to see a -severe, defiant-looking being. I -met a grave man, diffident, almost -awkward in manner, whose -appearance did not impress me with much -respect. He had a quick, restless eye, however, -which opened eagerly when any good or -bright observation was made; and I found at -the conclusion of the evening, that when any -question arose, the most sensible reply always -came from him.... Hazlitt was of the middle -size, with eager, expressive eyes, near which his -black hair, sprinkled sparely with gray, curled -round in a wiry, resolute manner. His gray -eyes, not remarkable in colour, expanded into -great expression when occasion demanded it. -Being very shy, however, they often evaded -your steadfast look. They never (as has -been asserted by some one) had a sinister -expression, but they sometimes flamed with -indignant glances when their owner was -moved to anger, like the eyes of other angry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> -men. At home, his style of dress (or undress) -was perhaps slovenly, because there was no -one to please; but he always presented a very -neat and clean appearance when he went -abroad. His mode of walking was loose, -weak, and unsteady, although his arms -displayed strength, which he used to put -forth when he played at racquets with Martin -Burney and others.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Cowden<br /> -Clarkes’<br /> -<i>Recollections<br /> -of Writers</i>.</div> - -<p>“The painting ... was standing on an -old-fashioned couch in one corner of the room -leaning against the wall, and we -remained opposite to it for some -time, while Hazlitt stood by holding -the candle high up so as to throw the light well -on to the picture, descanting enthusiastically -on the merits of the original. The beam from -the candle falling on his own finely intellectual -head, with its iron-gray hair, its square -potential forehead, its massive mouth and chin, -and eyes full of earnest fire, formed a glorious -picture in itself, and remains a luminous vision -for ever upon our memories.”—About 1829.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">FELICIA HEMANS<br /> - -<small>1794-1835</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Hughes’s<br /> -<i>Memoir of<br /> -Mrs. Hemans</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> young poetess was then only fifteen; -in the full glow of that radiant beauty which -was destined to fade so early. -The mantling bloom of her cheeks -was shaded by a profusion of -natural ringlets, of a rich golden brown, and -the ever-varying expression of her brilliant -eyes gave a changeful play to her countenance, -which would have made it impossible -for any painter to do justice to it. The -recollection of what she was at that time, -irresistibly suggests a quotation from Wordsworth’s -graceful poetic picture:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">‘She was a Phantom of delight,</div> -<div class="verse">When first she gleamed upon my sight;</div> -<div class="verse">A lovely Apparition, sent</div> -<div class="verse">To be a moment’s ornament.</div> -<div class="verse"> * * * *</div> -<div class="verse">A dancing Shape, an Image gay,</div> -<div class="verse">To haunt, to startle, and waylay.’”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verseright">1809.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="sidenote">Moir’s<br /> -<i>Memoirs of<br /> -Mrs. Hemans</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>“Mrs. Hemans was about the middle -height, and rather slenderly made than -otherwise. To a countenance of -great intelligence and expression, -she united manners alike unassuming -and playful, and with a trust arising -out of the purity of her own character—which -was beyond the meanness of suspicion -in others—she remained untainted by the -breath of worldly guile.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Rossetti’s<br /> -<i>Notice of<br /> -Mrs. Hemans</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“An engraved portrait of her by the -American artist William E. West—one of -three which he painted in 1827, -shows us that Mrs. Hemans, at -the age of thirty-four, was eminently -pleasing and good-looking, with an air -of amiability and sprightly gentleness, and of -confiding candour which, while none the less -perfectly womanly, might almost be termed -childlike in its limpid depth. The features -are correct and harmonious; the eyes full; and -the contour amply and elegantly rounded. In -height she was neither tall nor short. A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> -sufficient wealth of naturally clustering hair, -golden in early youth, but by this time of -a rich auburn, shades the capacious but not -over-developed forehead, and the lightly -pencilled eyebrows. The bust and form -have the fulness of a mature period of life; -and it would appear that Mrs. Hemans was -somewhat short-necked and high-shouldered, -partly detracting from delicacy of proportion, -and of general aspect of impression on the -eye. We would rather judge of her by this -portrait (which her sister pronounces a good -likeness) than by another engraved in Mr. -Chorley’s Memorials. This latter was executed -in Dublin in 1831, by a young artist -named Edward Robinson. It makes Mrs. -Hemans look younger than in the earlier -portrait by West, and may on that ground -alone be surmised unfaithful, and, though -younger, it also makes her heavier and less -refined.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">JAMES HOGG<br /> - -<small>1770-1835</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Lockhart’s<br /> -<i>Peter’s Letters</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Although</span> for some time past he has -spent a considerable portion of every year in -excellent, even in refined society, -the external appearance of the -man can have undergone but very little -change since he was ‘a herd on Yarrow.’ -His face and hands are still as brown as if -he had lived entirely <i>sub dio</i>. His very -hair has a coarse stringiness about it, which -proves beyond dispute its utter ignorance of -all the arts of the <i>friseur</i>, and hangs in -playful whips and cords about his ears, in a -style of the most perfect innocence imaginable. -His mouth which, when he smiles, -nearly cuts the totality of his face in twain, -is an object that would make the Chevalier -Ruspini die with indignation; for his teeth -have been allowed to grow where they listed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> -and as they listed, presenting more resemblance, -in arrangement (and colour too), to a -body of crouching sharp-shooters, than to any -more regular species of array. The effect -of a forehead, towering with a true poetic -grandeur above such features as these, and -of an eye that illuminates their surface with -genuine lightenings of genius ... these are -things which I cannot so easily transfer to -my paper.”—1819.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - - -<p>“The Rev. Mr. Thomson, his biographer, -thus pictures him:—‘In height he was five -feet ten inches and a half; his broad -chest and square shoulders indicated -health and strength; while a well-rounded -leg, and small ankle and foot, -showed the active shepherd who could outstrip -the runaway sheep.’ His hair in his -younger days was auburn, slightly inclining -to yellow, which afterwards became dark -brown, mixed with gray; his eyes, which -were dark blue, were bright and intelligent. -His features were irregular, while his eye<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> -and ample forehead redeemed the countenance -from every charge of common-place -homeliness.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Froude’s<br /> -<i>Life of Carlyle</i>.</div> - -<p>“Hogg is a little red-skinned stiff sack -of a body, with quite the common air of an -Ettrick shepherd, except that he -has a highish though sloping -brow (among his yellow grizzled hair), and -two clear little beads of blue or gray eyes -that sparkle, if not with thought, yet with -animation. Behaves himself quite easily and -well; speaks Scotch, and mostly narrative -absurdity (or even obscenity) therewith.... -His vanity seems to be immense, but also -his good-nature.”—1832.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">THOMAS HOOD<br /> - -<small>1798-1845</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Gentleman’s<br /> -Magazine</i>, 1872.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“As</span> he entered the room my first impression -was that of slight disappointment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> -I had not then seen any portrait of him, -and my imagination had depicted a man of -the under size, with a humorous -and mobile mouth, and with sharp, -twinkling, and investigating eyes. When, -therefore, a rather tall and attenuated figure -presented itself before me, with grave aspect -and dressed in black, and when, after scrutinising -his features, I noticed those dark, sad -eyes set in that pale and pain-worn yet -tranquil face, and saw the expression of that -suffering mouth, telling how sickness with its -stern plough had driven its silent share -through that slender frame, all the long train -of quaint and curious fancies, ludicrous imageries, -oddly-combined contrasts, humorous -distortions, strange and uncouth associations, -myriad word-twistings, ridiculous miseries, -grave trifles, and trifling gravities—all these -came before me like the rushing event of a -dream, and I asked myself, ‘Can this be the -man that has so often made me roll with -laughter at his humour, chuckle at his wit,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> -and wonder while I threaded the maze of his -inexhaustible puns?’ When he began to -converse in bland and placid tones about -Germany, where he had for some time lived, -I became more reconciled to him.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - - -<p>“In person Hood was of middle height, -slender and sickly-looking, of sallow complexion -and pale features, quiet in -expression, and very rarely excited -so as to give indication of either -the pathos or the humour that must ever -have been working in his soul. His was, -indeed, a countenance rather of melancholy -than mirth; there was something calm, even -to solemnity, in the upper portion of the face, -seldom relieved, in society, by the eloquent -play of the mouth, or the sparkle of an -observant eye. In conversation he was by -no means brilliant. When inclined to pun, -which was not often, it seemed as if his wit -was the issue of thought, and not an instinctive -produce, such as I have noticed in -other men who have thus become famous,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> -who are admirable in crowds, whose animation -is like that of the sounding-board, which -makes a great noise at a small touch, when -listeners are many and applause is sure.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Rossetti’s<br /> -<i>Memoir of Hood</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“The face of Hood is best known by two -busts and an oil-portrait, which have both -been engraved from. It is the -sort of face to which apparently -a bust does more than justice, yet less than -right,—the features, being mostly by no -means bad ones, look better when thus reduced -to the more simple and abstract contour -than they probably showed in reality, -for no one supposed Hood to be a fine-looking -man; on the other hand, the <i>value</i> -of the face must have been in its shifting expression—keen, -playful, or subtle—and this -can be but barely suggested by the sculptor. -The poet’s visage was pallid, his figure slight, -his voice feeble; he always dressed in black, -and is generally spoken of as presenting a -generally clerical appearance.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">THEODORE HOOK<br /> - -<small>1788-1841</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Leigh Hunt’s<br /> -<i>Autobiography</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“I remember</span>, one day at Sydenham, Mr. -Theodore Hook coming in unexpectedly to -dinner, and amusing us very -much with his talent at extempore -verse. He was then a youth, tall, -dark, and of a good person, with small eyes, -and features more round than weak; a face -that had character and humour, but no -refinement.”—1809.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - -<p>“When I first saw him, he was above the -middle height, robust of frame, and broad -of chest; well-proportioned, with -evidence of great physical capacity; -his complexion dark, as were his -eyes. There was nothing fine or elevated -in his expression; indeed, his features when -in repose were heavy; it was otherwise when -animated; yet his manners were those of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> -a gentleman, less, perhaps, from inherent -faculty than the polish which refined society -ever gives.”—1828.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Barham’s<br /> -<i>Life of Hook</i>.</div> - - -<p>“In person Theodore Hook was above -the middle height, his frame was robust and -well-proportioned, possessing a -breadth and depth of chest which, -joined to a constitution naturally of the -strongest order, would have seemed, under -ordinary care, to hold out promise of a long -and healthy life. His countenance was fine -and commanding, his features when in repose -settling into a somewhat stern and heavy expression, -but all alive and alight with genius -the instant his lips were opened. His eyes -were dark, large, and full—to the epithet -[Greek: boôpis] he, not less justly than the venerable -goddess, was entitled. His voice was rich, -deep, and melodious.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">DAVID HUME<br /> - -<small>1711-1776</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Chambers’s<br /> -<i>Eminent<br /> -Scotsmen</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Lord Charlemont</span>, who at this period met -with Mr. Hume at Turin, has given the -following account of his habits and -appearance, penned apparently with -a greater aim at effect than at truth, -yet somewhat characteristic of the philosopher: -‘Nature, I believe, never formed any man -more unlike his real character than David -Hume. The powers of physiognomy were -baffled by his countenance; neither could the -most skilful in the science pretend to discover -the smallest trace of the faculties of his mind -in the unmeaning features of his visage. -His face was broad and fat, his mouth wide, -and without any other expression than that -of imbecility. His eyes vacant and spiritless; -and the corpulence of his whole person was -far better fitted to communicate the idea of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> -a turtle-eating alderman than of a refined -philosopher. His speech in English was -rendered ridiculous by the broadest Scotch -accent, and his French was, if possible, still -more laughable, so that wisdom most certainly -never disguised herself before in so uncouth -a garb.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Lockhart’s<br /> -<i>Peter’s Letters</i>.</div> - - -<p>“The prints of David Hume are, most of -them, I believe, taken from the very portrait -I have seen; but of course the -style and effect of the features are -much more thoroughly to be understood -when one has an opportunity of observing -them expanded in their natural proportions. -The face is far from being in any respect a -classical one. The forehead is chiefly remarkable -for its prominence from the ear, -and not so much for its height. This gives -him a lowering sort of look forwards, expressive -of great inquisitiveness into matters -of fact and the consequences to be deduced -from them. His eyes are singularly prominent, -which, according to the Gallic system,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> -would indicate an extraordinary development -of the organ of language behind them. His -nose is too low between the eyes, and not -well or boldly formed in any other respect. -The lips, although not handsome, have in -their fleshy and massy outlines abundant -marks of habitual reflection and intellectual -occupation. The whole had a fine expression -of intellectual dignity, candour, and serenity. -The want of elevation, however, which I -have already noticed, injures very much the -effect even of the structure of the lower part -of the head.... It is to be regretted that -he wore powder, for this prevents us from -having the advantage of seeing what was -the natural style of his hair—or, indeed, of -ascertaining the form of any part of his head -beyond the forehead.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">David Hume’s<br /> -<i>Life</i>.</div> - - -<p>“To conclude historically with my own -character. I am, or rather was (for that is -the style which I must now use in -speaking of myself, which emboldens -me the more to speak my sentiment);<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> -I was, I say, a man of mild dispositions, of command -of temper, of an open, social, and cheerful -humour, capable of attachment, but little -susceptible of enmity, and of great moderation -in all my passions. Even my love of -literary fame—my ruling passion, never soured -my temper, notwithstanding my frequent disappointments. -My company was not unacceptable -to the young and careless, as well -as to the studious and literary; and as I took -a particular pleasure in the company of -modest women, I had no reason to be displeased -with the reception I met with from -them.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">LEIGH HUNT<br /> - -<small>1784-1859</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Son’s preface to<br /> -<i>Autobiography<br /> -of Leigh Hunt</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“It</span> was at this period of his life” (<i>as a young -man</i>) “that his appearance was most characteristic, -and none of the portraits of him -adequately conveyed the idea of it. One of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> -the best, a half-length chalk drawing, by an -artist named Wildman, perished. The miniature -by Severn was only a sketch -on a small scale, but it suggested -the kindness and animation of his -countenance. In other cases, the artists -knew too little of their sitter to catch the -most familiar traits of his aspect. He was -rather tall, as straight as an arrow, and looked -slenderer than he really was. His hair was -black and shining, and slightly inclined to -wave; his head was high, his forehead straight -and white, his eyes black and sparkling, his -general complexion dark.... Few men -were so attractive ‘in society,’ whether in -a large company or over the fireside. His -manners were peculiarly animated; his conversation -varied, ranging over a great field -of subjects, was moved and called forth by -the response of his companion, be that companion -philosopher or student, sage or boy, -man or woman; and he was equally ready -for the most lively topics or for the gravest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> -reflections—his expression easily adapting -itself to the tone of his companion’s mind. -With much freedom of manners, he combined -a spontaneous courtesy that never failed, and -a considerateness derived from a ceaseless -kindness of heart that invariably fascinated -even strangers.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Bryan Procter’s<br /> -<i>Recollections of<br /> -Men of Letters</i>.</div> - -<p>“Hunt was a little above the middle size, -thin and lithe. His countenance was very -genial and pleasant. His hair -was black; his eyes were very -dark, but he was short-sighted, -and therefore, perhaps, it was that they had -nothing of that fierce glance which black eyes -so frequently possess. His mouth was expressive, -but protruding, as is sometimes -seen in half-caste Americans.”—1817.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Haydon’s<br /> -<i>Autobiography</i>.</div> - - -<p>“I afterwards met Hunt, and reminded -him of Wilkie’s intention, and Hunt, with a -frankness I liked much, became -quite at home, and as I was just -as easily acquainted in five minutes as himself, -we began to talk, and he to hold forth,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> -and I thought him, with his black bushy hair, -black eyes, pale face, and ‘nose of taste,’ as -fine a specimen of a London editor as could -be imagined; assuming yet moderate, sarcastic -yet genial, with a smattering of everything -and a mastery of nothing, affecting the -dictator, the poet, the politician, the critic, and -the sceptic, whichever would, at the moment, -give him the air, to inferior minds, of being -a very superior man. I listened with something -of curiosity to his republican independence, -though hating his effeminacy and -cockney peculiarities. The fearless honesty -of his opinions, the unscrupulous sacrifice of -his own interests, the unselfish perseverance -of his attacks on all abuses, whether royal or -religious, noble or democratic, ancient or -modern, so gratified my mind, that I suffered -this singular young man to gain such an -ascendancy in my heart, as justified the perpetual -caution of Wilkie against my great -tendency to become acquainted too soon with -strangers, and like Canning’s German, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> -swear eternal friendship with any spirited -talented fellow after a couple of hours of -witty talk or able repartee.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">ELIZABETH INCHBALD<br /> - -<small>1753-1821</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Kavanagh’s<br /> -<i>English Women<br /> -of Letters</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Miss Simpson</span> ... was ... tall and -slender, with hair of a golden -auburn, and lovely hazel eyes, -perfect features, and an enchanting -countenance.”—1771.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Mrs. Inchbald’s<br /> -<i>Memoirs</i>.</div> - -<p class="center">“<span class="smcap">Description of Me.</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="hangingindent"><i>Age.</i>—Between 30 and 40, which, in the -register of a lady’s birth, means a little -turned of 30.</p> - -<p class="hangingindent"><i>Height.</i>—Above the middle size, and rather -tall.</p> - -<p class="hangingindent"><i>Figure.</i>—Handsome, and striking -in its general air, but a little too stiff -and erect.</p> - -<p class="hangingindent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span><i>Shape.</i>—Rather too fond of sharp angles.</p> - -<p class="hangingindent"><i>Skin.</i>—By nature fair, though a little freckled, -and with a tinge of sand, which is the -colour of her eyelashes, but made coarse -by ill-treatment upon her cheeks and arms.</p> - -<p class="hangingindent"><i>Bosom.</i>—None; or so diminutive, that it’s -like a needle in a bottle of hay.</p> - -<p class="hangingindent"><i>Hair.</i>—Of a sandy auburn, and rather too -straight as well as thin.</p> - -<p class="hangingindent"><i>Face.</i>—Beautiful in effect, and beautiful in -every feature.</p> - -<p class="hangingindent"><i>Countenance.</i>—Full of spirit and sweetness; -excessively interesting, and, without indelicacy, -voluptuous.</p> - -<p class="hangingindent"><i>Dress.</i>—Always becoming; and very seldom -worth so much as <i>eightpence</i>.”—About -1788.</p> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">FRANCIS, LORD JEFFREY<br /> - -<small>1773-1850</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Geo.<br /> -Ticknor’s<br /> -<i>Life</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“You</span> are to imagine then, before you, a -short, stout little gentleman, about five and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> -a half feet high, with a very red face, black -hair and black eyes. You are to suppose -him to possess a very gay and animated -countenance, and you are to -see in him all the restlessness of a -will-o’-wisp, and all that fitful irregularity -in his movements which you have heretofore -appropriated to the pasteboard Merry -Andrews whose limbs are jerked about with -a wire. These you are to interpret as the -natural indications of the impetuous and -impatient character which a farther acquaintance -developes. He enters the room with -a countenance so satisfied and a step so light -and almost fantastic, that all your previous -impressions of the dignity and severity of -the <i>Edinburgh Review</i> are immediately put -to flight, and, passing at once to the opposite -extreme, you might, perhaps, imagine him -to be frivolous, vain, and supercilious. He -accosts you too, with a freedom and -familiarity which may, perhaps, put you at -your ease and render conversation unceremonious;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> -but which, as I observed in -several instances, were not very tolerable to -those who had always been accustomed to -the delicacy and decorum of refined society.”—1814.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Lockhart’s<br /> -<i>Peter’s Letters</i>.</div> - - -<p>“I had not been long in the room, however, -when I heard Mr. J—— announced, -and as I had not seen him for some -time, resolved to stay, and if -possible, enjoy a little of his conversation -in some corner.... I have seldom seen -a man more nice in his exterior than -Mr. J—— now seemed to be. His little -person looked very neat in the way he had -now adorned it. He had a very well-cut -blue coat,—evidently not after the design of -any Edinburgh artist,—light kerseymere -breeches and ribbed silk stockings, a pair -of elegant buckles, white kid gloves, and a -tricolour watch-ribbon. He held his hat -under his arm in a very <i>dégagée</i> manner—and -altogether he was certainly one of the -last men in the assembly, whom a stranger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> -would have guessed to be either a great -lawyer or a great reviewer. In short, he -was more of a dandy than any great author -I ever saw—always excepting Tom Moore -and David Williams.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>New Monthly<br /> -Magazine</i>,<br /> -1831.</div> - -<p>“He is of low stature, but his figure is -elegant and well proportioned. The face is -rather elongated, the chin deficient, -the mouth well formed, with a -mingled expression of determination, sentiment, -and arch mockery; the nose is slightly -curved; the eye is the most peculiar feature -of the countenance; it is large and sparkling. -He has two tones in his voice—the one -harsh and grating, the other rich and clear.”—1831.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">DOUGLAS JERROLD<br /> - -<small>1803-1857</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Hodder’s<br /> -<i>Personal<br /> -Reminiscences</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“To</span> my great delight, ... I had not been -in the room many minutes before I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> -introduced to Douglas Jerrold, who was flitting -about with that peculiar restlessness of eye, -speech, and demeanour, which was -amongst his most marked characteristics. -I confess I was not surprised -to find him a man of small stature, -as I had heard before that his proportions -were rather those of Tydeus than of Alcides; -but I was a little astonished when I saw in -the author of <i>Black-eyed Susan</i>, <i>The Rent -Day</i>, and <i>The Wedding Gown</i>, (all of -which pieces and many others he had then -produced), an amount of boyish gaiety and a -rapidity of movement which one could hardly -expect from a writer who had risen to high -rank as a moralist and censor.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">W. B. Jerrold’s<br /> -<i>Life of Douglas<br /> -Jerrold</i>.</div> - - -<p>“He had none of the airs of success or -reputation, none of the affectations, either -personal or social, which are rife -everywhere. He was manly and -natural; free and off-handed to -the verge of eccentricity. Independence and -marked character seemed to breathe from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> -the little, rather bowed figure, crowned with -a lion-like head and falling light hair—to -glow in the keen, eager, blue eyes glancing -on either side as he walked along. Nothing -could be less commonplace, nothing less -conventional, than his appearance in a room -or in the streets.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - -<p>“He was a very short man, but with -breadth enough, and a back excessively bent—bowed -almost to deformity; very -gray hair, and a face and expression -of remarkable briskness and intelligence. -His profile came out pretty -boldly, and his eyes had the prominence that -indicates, I believe, volubility of speech; -nor did he fail to talk from the instant of his -appearance; and in the tone of his voice, and -in his glance, and in the whole man, there -was something racy—a flavour of the -humourist. His step was that of an aged -man, and he put his stick down very -decidedly at every foot-fall; though, as -he afterwards told me, he was only fifty-two,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> -he need not yet have been infirm.”—1856.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SAMUEL JOHNSON<br /> - -<small>1709-1784</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Boswell’s<br /> -<i>Life of<br /> -Dr. Johnson</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Miss Porter</span> told me, that when he was -first introduced to her mother, his appearance -was very forbidding; he was then -lean and lank, so that his immense -structure of bones was hideously -striking to the eye, and the scars of the -scrofula were deeply visible. He also wore -his hair, which was straight and stiff, and -separated behind; and he often had, seemingly, -convulsive starts and odd gesticulations, -which tended to excite at once surprise and -ridicule. Mrs. Porter was so much engaged -by his conversation that she overlooked all -these external disadvantages, and said to -her daughter, ‘This is the most sensible man -that I ever saw in my life.’”—1731.</p> - - - -<div class="sidenote">Boswell’s<br /> -<i>Life of<br /> -Dr. Johnson</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>“His chambers were on the first floor of -No. 1 Inner Temple Lane.... He received -me very courteously; but it must -be confessed that his apartment and -furniture and morning dress was -sufficiently uncouth. His brown suit of -clothes looked very rusty; he had on a little -old shrivelled unpowdered wig, which was -too small for his head; his shirt neck and -knees of his breeches were loose, his black -worsted stockings ill drawn up, and he had -a pair of unbuckled shoes by way of slippers. -But all these slovenly peculiarities were -forgotten the moment he began to talk.”—1763.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Croker’s<br /> -<i>Johnsoniana</i>.</div> - -<p>“The day after I wrote my last letter to -you I was introduced to Mr. Johnson by a -friend. We passed through three -very dirty rooms to a little one that -looked like an old counting-house, where this -great man was sat at breakfast.... I was -very much struck with Mr. Johnson’s appearance, -and could hardly help thinking him a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> -madman for some time, as he sat waving -over his breakfast like a lunatic. He is a -very large man, and was dressed in a dirty -brown coat and waistcoat, with breeches that -were brown also (although they had been -crimson), and an old black wig; his shirt -collar and sleeves were unbuttoned; his -stockings were down about his feet, which -had on them, by way of slippers, an old pair -of shoes.... We had been with him some -time before he began to talk, but at length -he began, and, faith, to some purpose; -everything he says is as <i>correct</i> as a <i>second -edition</i>; ’tis almost impossible to argue with -him, he is so sententious and so knowing.”—1764.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BEN JONSON<br /> - -<small>1574-1637</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Aubrey’s <i>Lives<br /> -of Eminent<br /> -Persons</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“He</span> was (or rather had been) of a clear and -faire skin, his habit was very plaine. I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> -heard Mr. Lacy, the player, say that he was -wont to weare a coate like a coach-man’s coate -with slitts under the arme-pitts. -He would many times exceed in -drinke. Canarie was his beloved -liquer.... Ben Jonson had one eie lower -than t’other and bigger, like Clun, the -player.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Anderson’s<br /> -<i>Poets of<br /> -Great Britain</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“The character of Jonson, like that of -most celebrated wits, has been drawn with -great diversity of lights and -shades, according as affection or -envy guided the pencil. His -person, as he has himself told us, was -corpulent and large. His disposition seems -to have been reserved and saturnine, and -sometimes not a little oppressed with the -gloom of a splenetic imagination.... Stern -and rigid as his virtue was, he was easy and -social in the convivial meetings of his friends; -and the laws of his <i>Symposia</i>, inscribed over -the chimney of the Apollo, a room in the -Devil Tavern, near Temple Bar, where he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> -kept his club, show that he was neither averse -to the pleasures of conversation, nor ignorant -of what would render it agreeable and improving.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Lafond, <i>Notice<br /> -sur Ben Jonson</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“Il est clair pour nous que Ben Jonson -avait une nature violente dans un corps -robuste et athlétique; son portrait -nous le montre avec une énorme -face, une vigoureuse mâchoire, des yeux -profonds et durs, un cou de taureau. Sa -peau avait été, de bonne heure, couturée par -le scorbut; et lui-même dit quelque part qu’il -eut, dans le milieu de sa vie, une montagne -pour ventre et un dandinement disgracieux -pour démarche. Tous ses traits fortement -accentués, anguleux ou carrés, dénoncent -l’énergie, l’orgueil et l’amour des luttes de -toute nature. Il aimait la bonne chère et le -vin; sa prédilection pour le vin des Canaries -avait, disait il, pour excuse la nécessité de -sa constitution scorbutique. Il avait l’esprit -semblable au corps; malgré ses études -classiques, il était loin d’être un Athénien,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> -c’était un Anglo-Saxon enté sur un Romain -de la décadence. Généreux, libéral, prodigue, -il tint toujours table ouverte, même lorsque la -misère était devenue l’hôte de son foyer.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">JOHN KEATS<br /> - -<small>1795-1821</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Bryan Procter’s<br /> -<i>Recollections of<br /> -Men of Letters</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“I was</span> first introduced to him (Keats), by -Leigh Hunt, and found him very pleasant, -and free from all affectation in -manner and opinion. Indeed it -would be difficult to discover a -man with a more bright and open countenance.... -I can only say that I never -encountered a more manly and simple young -man. In person he was short, and had eyes -large and wonderfully luminous, and a resolute -bearing, not defiant but well sustained.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Monckton<br /> -Milnes’s <i>Life of<br /> -Keats</i>.</div> - -<p>“His eyes were large and blue, his hair -auburn, he wore it divided down the centre,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> -and it fell in rich masses on each side his face, -his mouth was full, and less intellectual than -his other features. His countenance -lives in my mind as one of -singular beauty and brightness,—it -had an expression as if he had been looking -on some glorious sight. The shape of his -face had not the squareness of a man’s, but -more like some women’s faces I have seen—it -was so wide over the forehead, and so -small at the chin. He seemed in perfect -health, and with life offering all things that -were precious to him.”—1818.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Cowden<br /> -Clarkes’<br /> -<i>Recollections<br /> -of Writers</i>.</div> - -<p><i>In reviewing this portrait, Mrs. Cowden -Clarke, while admitting that much of it is</i> -“excellent” <i>and</i> “true,” <i>goes on to -add these words</i>: “But when our -artist pronounces that ‘his eyes -were large and <i>blue</i>,’ and that ‘his hair was -<i>auburn</i>,’ I am naturally reminded of the -‘Chameleon’ fable—‘they were <i>brown</i>, ma’am—<i>brown</i>, -I assure you!’... Reader, alter, -in your copy of the <i>Life of Keats</i>, vol. i. page<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> -103, ‘eyes’ light hazel, ‘hair’ <i>lightish brown -and wavy</i>.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Leigh Hunt’s<br /> -<i>Autobiography</i>.</div> - -<p>“Keats, when he died, had just completed -his four and twentieth year. He was under -the middle height, and his lower -limbs were small in comparison -with the upper, but neat and well-turned. -His shoulders were very broad for his size; -he had a face in which energy and sensibility -were remarkably mixed up; an eager power, -checked and made patient by ill-health. -Every feature was at once strongly cut, -and delicately alive. If there was any faulty -expression, it was in the mouth, which was -not without something of a character of -pugnacity. His face was rather long than -otherwise; the upper lip projected a little -over the under; the chin was bold, the cheeks -sunken; the eyes are mellow and glowing, -large, dark, and sensitive. At the recital of -a noble action, or a beautiful thought, they -would suffuse with tears, and his mouth -trembled. In this there was ill-health as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> -well as imagination, for he did not like these -betrayals of emotion; and he had great -personal as well as moral courage. He once -chastised a butcher, who had been insolent, -by a regular stand-up fight. His hair, of a -brown colour, was fine, and hung in natural -ringlets. The head was a puzzle for the -phrenologists, being remarkably small in the -skull—a singularity which he had in common -with Byron and Shelley, whose hats I could -not get on. Keats was sensible of the disproportion -above noticed between his upper -and lower extremities, and he would look at -his hand, which was faded, and swollen in the -veins, and say it was the hand of a man of -fifty.”—1826.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">JOHN KEBLE<br /> - -<small>1792-1866</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">J. Coleridge’s<br /> -<i>Memoir of the<br /> -Rev. John Keble</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“To</span> me both the portraits are full of deep -interest” (<i>these portraits of Keble, the one in</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> -<i>the prime of manhood and the other in old -age, were drawn by Richmond</i>), “the earlier -and the later both—each brings -him back to me as he was; in -the earlier, he has some of the -merry defiance he could assume in argument; -in the latter, I see the sad tenderness of his -advanced years. Keble had not regular -features; he could not be called a handsome -man, but he was one to be noticed anywhere, -and remembered long; his forehead and -hair beautiful in all ages; his eyes, full of -play, intelligence, and emotion, followed you -while you spoke; and they lighted up, -especially with pleasure, or indignation, as it -might be, when he answered you. The most -pleasing photograph is one in which he is -standing by Mrs. Keble’s side; she is sitting -with a book in her hand. The later photographs -are to me very unpleasant. I will -attempt no more particular description, for I -feel how little definite I can convey in -writing.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Christian<br /> -Observer</i>, 1871.</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>“Mr. Keble greeted us, emerging from -his little study, the door of which, as I afterwards -noticed, oftener than not, -stood open.... His features, -indeed, were familiar to us, as to most -people, from the engraving of Richmond’s -first portrait of him, taken in middle life for -Sir John Coleridge. Now the original stood -before me, and I saw at a glance that face -and figure had been faithfully portrayed. -The forehead was pale and serene, the hair -silvery; doubtless this token of advancing -years must have helped to give softness and -refinement to the features; eyebrows, -sprinkled with white, shaded eyes of singular -brilliancy and depth of expression, as ready (I -afterwards well knew) to light up with mirth -and mischief while playful talk was going on, -as they were to melt into mournful earnestness -when graver topics were broached. He -habitually wore glasses, but used often to -take them off and hold them in his hand -when conversing with animation. A dear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> -and old friend of his has told me that he -‘looked almost boyish till about fifty, and -after that rapidly aged in personal appearance.’ -At this time he was in his sixty-first -year, healthy and strong and active.... In -appearance he was quite one’s ideal of an -old-fashioned country clergyman, but of one -whose Oxford days were still fresh in his -mind; there was a touch of <i>vieille cour</i> in his -manner, which added, I think, to its charm. -His voice in speaking was rather low, and -especially so when the subject of conversation -was very near his heart. It often struck -me, when listening to him, that without the -slightest effort or aim at effect, he always hit -upon the most suitable and telling words, -(and the shortest), in which to clothe his -ideas. This unconscious beauty of language, -coupled with the originality and wisdom of -the ideas themselves, riveted them in one’s -memory; the look, too, with which they were -uttered, could not be forgotten, and rises as -vividly before my mind’s eye ‘through the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> -golden mist of years’ as though it belonged to -the present, instead of the ‘long ago.’”—1852.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">L. A. Huntingford:<br /> -private<br /> -letter.</div> - - -<p>“People who went to look at Mr. Keble -as a ‘lion’ were, I think, disappointed to see -a very simple old-fashioned clerical -gentleman, with very little -manner, and so completely unconscious -of self that as he talked of common -things, they were inclined to think as little -of him as he thought of himself. He used -to come down early and stand writing at a -side-table till it was quite time for prayers -and breakfast, and then sit down anywhere -and, with a little peculiar jerk of the head -and shoulders, read a short ‘Instruction,’ -almost as if he were reading it to himself. -Certain people even called his reading bad, -for his voice was weak, and he had a slight -cough which never wholly left him; but he -brought out the meaning of Holy Scripture -in a manner which I never heard surpassed. -Mr. Keble was of middle height, very thin, -with a splendid forehead, bright eyes which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> -were rather hidden by his spectacles, and a -sweet merry smile. Those who knew him -well must remember the way in which he -used to pull himself together, as if he were -a boy obeying a well-known rule to ‘hold -up his head.’ His manner was nervous, so -much so that people who were not intimately -acquainted with him were rarely quite at -their ease when in his presence. The two -pictures of Mr. Keble by Richmond are both -good likenesses; but the lithograph of the -head which was taken from the then-unfinished -picture which, in its completed form, -now hangs in Keble College, Oxford, has -caught the peculiar intelligence of the eyes -when lighted up with the eager brightness -his friends knew so well. He had the unusual -power of being able to write upon one -subject and listen to the discussion of another -at the same time; and he would often glance -up from the paper in which he was apparently -immersed, and pushing up his spectacles -join eagerly in the conversation.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHARLES KINGSLEY<br /> - -<small>1812-1875</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Caroline Fox’s<br /> -<i>Journals and<br /> -Letters</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Torquay</span>, <i>January 30th</i>.—Charles Kingsley -called, but we missed him.</p> - - -<p>“<i>February 3d.</i>—We paid him and his wife -a very happy call; he fraternising -at once, and stuttering pleasant -and discriminating things concerning -F. D. Maurice, Coleridge and others. -He looks sunburnt with dredging all the -morning, has a piercing eye under an overhanging -brow, and his voice is most -melodious and his pronunciation exquisite. -He is strangely attractive.”—1854.</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Galaxy</i>,<br /> -1872.</div> - - -<p>“I was present at a meeting not long since -where Mr. Kingsley was one of the principal -speakers. The meeting was held -in London, the audience was a -peculiarly Cockney audience, and Charles -Kingsley is personally little known to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> -public of the metropolis. Therefore when he -began to speak there was quite a little thrill -of wonder and something like incredulity -through the listening benches. Could that, -people near me asked, really be Charles -Kingsley, the novelist, the poet, the scholar, -the aristocrat, the gentleman, the pulpit-orator, -the ‘soldier—priest,’ the apostle of -muscular Christianity? Yes, that was indeed -he. Rather tall, very angular, surprisingly -awkward, with thin staggering legs, a hatchet -face adorned with scraggy gray whiskers, a -faculty for falling into the most ungainly -attitudes, and making the most hideous -contortions of visage and frame; with a -rough provincial accent and an uncouth way -of speaking which would be set down for -absurd caricature on the boards of a comic -theatre. Such was the appearance which the -author of <i>Glaucus</i> and <i>Hypatia</i> presented -to his startled audience. Since Brougham’s -time nothing so ungainly, odd, and ludicrous -had been displayed upon an English platform.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> -Needless to say, Charles Kingsley has not -the eloquence of Brougham. But he has a -robust and energetic plain-speaking which -soon struck home to the heart of the meeting. -He conquered his audience. Those who -at first could hardly keep from laughing, -those who, not knowing the speaker, -wondered whether he was not mad or in -liquor, those who heartily disliked his -general principles and his public attitude, -were alike won over, long before he had -finished, by his bluff and blunt earnestness -and his transparent sincerity.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Fraser’s<br /> -Magazine</i>, 1877.</div> - - -<p>“For nine years the portrait of Kingsley, -close to that of John Parker, has looked down -from the wall of the room in -which I write. It is a large -photograph, taken, while he was on a visit to -the house, by an amateur of extraordinary -ability, the late Dr. Adamson of St. Andrews. -It is the best and most lifelike portrait of -Kingsley known to me. It has the stern -expression, which came partly of the effort,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> -never quite ceasing, to express himself -through that characteristic stammer which -quite left him in public speaking, and which -in private added to the effect of his wonderful -talk. Photography caught him easily. -Those who look at the portrait prefixed to -Volume I. of the <i>Life</i> see the man as he -lived. Mr. Woolner’s bust, shown at the -beginning of Volume II., shows him aged -and shrunken, not more than he was but more -than he ought to have been; and the removal -of all hair from the face is a marked -difference from the fact in life; yet the likeness -is perfect too. That somewhat severe -face belied one of the kindest hearts that -ever beat: yet the handsome and chivalrous -features unworthily expressed one of the -truest, bravest, and noblest of souls. Kingsley -could not have done a mean or false thing: -by his make it was as impossible as that -water should run uphill.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHARLES LAMB<br /> - -<small>1775-1834</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">de Quincey’s<br /> -<i>Life and<br /> -Writings</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Lamb</span>, at this period of his life, then passed -regularly, after taking wine, under a brief -eclipse of sleep. It descended -upon him as soft as a shadow. In -a gross person laden with superfluous -flesh, and sleeping heavily, this would -have been disagreeable; but in Lamb, thin -even to meagreness, spare and wiry as an -Arab of the desert, or as Thomas Aquinas, -wasted by scholastic vigils, the affection of -sleep seemed rather a net-work of aerial -gossamer than of earthly cobweb,—more like -a golden haze falling upon him gently from -the heavens than a cloud exhaling upwards -from the flesh. Motionless in his chair as a -bust, breathing so gently as scarcely to seem -entirely alive, he presented the image of -repose midway between life and death like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> -the repose of sculpture, and to one who knew -his history, a repose contrasting with the -calamities and internal storms of his life. I -have heard more persons than I can now -distinctly recall, observe of Lamb when -sleeping, that his countenance in that state -assumed an expression almost seraphic, from -its intellectual beauty of outline, its childlike -simplicity, and its benignity. It could not -be called a transfiguration that sleep worked -in his face; for the features wore essentially -the same expression when waking; but sleep -spiritualised that expression, exalted it, and -also harmonised it. Much of the change lay -in that last process. The eyes it was that -disturbed the unity of effect in Lamb’s waking -face. They gave a restlessness to the -character of his intellect, shifting, like northern -lights, through every mode of combination -with fantastic playfulness; and sometimes by -fiery gleams obliterating for the moment that -pure light of benignity which was the predominant -reading on his features.”—1822.</p> - - - -<div class="sidenote">Froude’s<br /> -<i>Life of Carlyle</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>“He was the leanest of mankind; tiny black -breeches buttoned to the knee-cap and no -further, surmounting spindle-legs -also in black, face and head fineish, -black, bony, lean, and of a Jew type rather; -in the eyes a kind of smoky brightness, or -confused sharpness; spoke with a stutter; in -walking tottered and shuffled, emblem of -imbecility, bodily and spiritual (something of -real insanity, I have understood), and yet something, -too, of human, ingenuous, pathetic, sportfully -much enduring. Poor Lamb! he was -infinitely astonished at my wife, and her quiet -encounter of his too ghastly London wit by a -cheerful native ditto. Adieu! poor Lamb!”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Talfourd’s<br /> -<i>Reminiscence of<br /> -Charles Lamb</i>.</div> - -<p>“Methinks I see him before me now, as -he appeared then, and as he continued with -scarcely 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 clerklike black, was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> -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 feeling was -sad; and the nose slightly curved, and delicately -carved at the nostril, with the lower -outline of the face regularly oval, completed a -head which was finely placed on 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 for ever in words? There -are none, alas, to answer the vain desire of -friendship. Deep thought striving with humour, -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 unfitly characterised by what he -himself says in one of his letters to Manning, -of Braham, ‘a compound of the Jew, the -gentleman, and the angel.’”—<i>Written shortly -after Lamb’s death.</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON<br /> - -<small>1802-1838</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Crabb Robinson’s<br /> -<i>Diary</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“... Miss Landon</span>, a young poetess—a -starling—the L. E. L. of -the <i>Gazette</i>, with a gay good-humoured -face, which gave me a favourable -impression.”—1826.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Blanchard’s<br /> -<i>Life of L. E. L.</i></div> - -<p>“Her hair was ‘darkly brown,’ very soft -and beautiful, and always tastefully arranged; -her figure, as before remarked, -slight, but well-formed and -graceful; her feet small, but her hands -especially so, and faultlessly white and finely -shaped; her fingers were fairy fingers; her -ears also were observably little. Her face, -though not regular in ‘every feature,’ became -beautiful by expression,—every flash of -thought, every change and colour of feeling -lightened over it as she spoke,—when she -spoke earnestly. The forehead was not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> -high, but broad and full; the eyes had no -overpowering brilliancy, but their clear intellectual -light penetrated by its exquisite -softness; her mouth was not less marked by -character, and, besides the glorious faculty of -uttering the pearls and diamonds of fancy -and wit, knew how to express scorn, or -anger, or pride, as well as it knew how to -smile winningly, or to pour forth those short, -quick, ringing laughs which, not excepting -even her <i>bon-mots</i> and aphorisms, were the -most delightful things that issued from it.”—1832.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Retrospect of a<br /> -Long Life</i>.</div> - -<p>“Small of person, but well formed. Her -dark silken hair braided back over a small, -but what phrenologists would call -a well-developed head; her forehead -full and open, but the hair -grew low upon it; the eyebrows perfect in -arch and form; the eyes round—soft or -flashing as might be—gray, well formed, and -beautifully set; the lashes long and black, -the under lashes turning down with delicate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> -curve, and forming a soft relief upon the -tint of her cheek, which, when she enjoyed -good health, was bright and blushing; her -complexion was delicately fair; her skin soft -and transparent; her nose small (<i>retroussé</i>), -slightly curved, but capable of scornful expression, -which she did not appear to have -the power of repressing, even though she -gave her thoughts no words, when any -despicable action was alluded to.”—About -1835.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR<br /> - -<small>1775-1864</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Crabb Robinson’s<br /> -<i>Diary</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“He</span> was a man of florid complexion, with -large full eyes, and altogether a <i>leonine</i> man, -and with a fierceness of tone -well suited to his name; his -decisions being confident, and on all subjects, -whether of taste or life, unqualified, each -standing for itself, not caring whether it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> -in harmony with what had gone before or -would follow from the same oracular lips. -But why should I trouble myself to describe -him? He is painted by a master hand in -Dickens’s novel <i>Bleak House</i>, now in course -of publication, where he figures as Mr. -Boythorn. The combination of superficial -ferocity and inherent tenderness, so admirably -portrayed in <i>Bleak House</i>, still at first -strikes every stranger,—for twenty-two years -have not materially changed him,—no less -than his perfect frankness and reckless indifference -to what he says.”—1830.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Retrospect of a<br /> -Long Life</i>.</div> - -<p>“... He was at that time sixty years of -age, although he did not look so old; his -form and features were essentially -masculine; he was not tall, but -stalwart; of a robust constitution, -and was proud even to arrogance of his -physical and intellectual strength. He was -a man to whom passers-by would have looked -back and asked, ‘Who is that?’ His forehead -was high, but retreated, showing remarkable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> -absence of the organs of benevolence -and veneration. It was a large head, -fullest at the back, where the animal propensities -predominate; it was a powerful, -but not a good head, the expression the -opposite of genial. In short, physiognomists -and phrenologists would have selected it,—each -to illustrate his theory.”—1836.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Harriet<br /> -Martineau’s<br /> -<i>Biographical<br /> -Sketches</i>.</div> - - -<p>“His tall, broad, muscular, active frame -was characteristic, and so was his head, with -the strange elevation of the eyebrows -which expresses self-will as -strongly in some cases as astonishment -in others. Those eyebrows, mounting -up until they comprehend a good portion of -the forehead, have been observed in many -more paradoxical persons than one. Then -there was the retreating but broad forehead, -showing the deficiency of reasoning and -speculative power, with the preponderance -of imagination and a huge passion for destruction. -The massive self-love and self-will -carried up his head to something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> -more than a dignified bearing—even to one -of arrogance. His vivid and quick eye, and -the thoughtful mouth, were fine, and his -whole air was that of a man distinguished in -his own eyes certainly, but also in those of -others. Tradition reports he was handsome -in his youth. In age he was more.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHARLES LEVER<br /> - -<small>1806-1872</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Fitz-Patrick’s<br /> -<i>Life of Lever</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“I found</span> him seated at an open window, a -bottle of claret at his right hand, and the -proof-sheets of <i>Lord Kilgobbin</i> -before him.... At the date of -our visit he looked a hale, hearty, laughter-loving -man of sixty. There was mirth in -his gray eye, joviality in the wink that -twittered on his eyelid, saucy humour in his -smile, and <i>bon-mot</i>, wit, repartee, and rejoinder -in every movement of his lips. His<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> -hair very thin, but of a silky brown, fell -across his forehead, and when it curtained -his eyes he would jerk back his head—this, -too, at some telling crisis in a narrative, -when the particular action was just the exact -finish required to make the story perfect. -Mr. Lever’s teeth were all his own and very -brilliant, and whether from accident or habit, -he flashed them on us in conjunction with -his wonderful eyes, a battery at once powerful -and irresistible.... Mr. Lever made -great use of his hands, which were small -and white and delicate as those of a woman. -He made play with them, threw them up in -ecstasy, or wrung them in mournfulness, just -as the action of the moment demanded. He -did not require eyes or teeth with such a -voice and such hands; they could tell and -illustrate the workings of his brain. He -was somewhat careless in his dress, but clung -to the traditional high shirt-collar, merely -compromising the unswerving stock of the -Brummell period.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">MATTHEW GREGORY LEWIS<br /> - -<small>1775-1818</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Southern<br /> -Literary<br /> -Messenger</i>,<br /> -1849.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“In</span> person, Mat Lewis (as his intimate -friends at first termed him) was quite -ordinary; his stature was rather -diminutive; his face was almost -an ellipse, looking upon it from -the side, and his features though pleasant -were not to be regarded as handsome. His -forehead, however, was high and his eyes -very lustrous.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Jeaffreson’s<br /> -<i>Novels and<br /> -Novelists</i>.</div> - - -<p>“Lewis’s personal appearance was not prepossessing. -He describes himself as</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="verse">‘Of passions strong, of hasty nature,</div> -<div class="verse">Of graceless form and dwarfish stature.’</div> -</div></div> - -<p>He had, moreover, large gray eyes, thick -features, and an inexpressive countenance. -When he talked he had an insufferable habit -of drawing the fore-finger of his right hand -across his eyelid, and in conversation he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> -guilty of the absurd affectation of a drawling -tone such as was popular with dandies.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>New Monthly<br /> -Magazine</i>, 1848.</div> - -<p>“Matthew Gregory Lewis. Of this -gentleman I knew but little, not having -encountered him half a dozen -times after my introduction to -him at the house of Nat Middleton, the -banker. With a short thick-set figure, unintellectual -features, and a disagreeable habit -of peering, being very short-sighted, his -aspect was by no means prepossessing; but -as he had ‘that within which passeth show,’ -he recovered the ground lost at starting as -rapidly as Wilkes could have done.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART<br /> - -<small>1794-1854</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Times</i>,<br /> -9th Dec. 1854.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Endowed</span> with the very highest order of -manly beauty, both of features and expression, -he retained the brilliancy of youth and a stately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> -strength of person comparatively unimpaired -in ripened life; and then, though sorrow and -sickness suddenly brought on a -premature old age which none -could witness unmoved, yet the beauty of the -head and of the bearing so far gained in -melancholy loftiness of expression what they -lost in animation, that the last phase, whether -to the eye of painter or of anxious friend, -seemed always the finest.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SIR RICHARD LOVELACE<br /> - -<small>1618-1658</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Anthony Wood’s<br /> -<i>Athenæ<br /> -Oxonienses.</i></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Richard Lovelace</span> ... became a gent-commoner -of Glo’cester Hall in the beginning -of the year 1634, and in that of -his age 16, being then accounted -the most amiable and beautiful -person that ever eye beheld, a person also of -innate modesty, virtue, and courtly deportment,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> -which made him then, but especially after, -when he retired to the great city, much -admired and adored by the female sex.... -Accounted by all those that well knew him, -to have been a person well vers’d in the -Greek and Latin poets, in music, whether -practical or theoretical, instrumental or vocal, -and in other things befitting a gentleman. -Some of the said persons have also added in -my hearing, that his common discourse was -not only significant and witty, but incomparably -graceful, which drew respect from all -men and women.”—1634 and 1658.</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Gentleman’s<br /> -Magazine</i>, 1884.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“The personal attractions of Richard -Lovelace have been much extolled by his -contemporaries; nor is this -matter for wonder. A picture -of the poet by an unknown painter, preserved -in the old college at Dulwich, to which it was -bequeathed by Cartwright the actor, in 1687, -represents him as a very handsome man. -The face is oval, the hair, worn Cavalier -fashion, long, is of a dark brown colour and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> -falls down in abundant masses, while the -mustachios are small and thin. The small, -well-formed mouth is perhaps a trifle -voluptuous, but is nevertheless suggestive of -firmness of character. The eyes are large -and dark, and the well-arched and delicately -pencilled eyebrows are unusually far apart; -the general expression of the face is singularly -sweet and winning. The hand is small, well -formed and aristocratic. Lovelace is attired -in armour, with a white collar, and across the -breast is thrown a red scarf. The picture is -inscribed ‘Col. Lovelace.’”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">EDWARD, LORD LYTTON<br /> - -<small>1803-1873</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Retrospect of a<br /> -long Life</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“A young</span> man whose features, though of a -somewhat effeminate cast, were -remarkably handsome. His bearing -had that aristocratic something -bordering on hauteur, which clung to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> -him during his life. I never saw the famous -writer without being reminded of the passage, -‘Stand back; I am holier than thou.’—1826.</p> - -<p>“The last time I saw him was in his then -residence, No. 12 Grosvenor Square. It was -growing towards fifty years since first we had -met, and there were more changes in him than -those that time usually brings. His once -handsome face had assumed the desolation -without the dignity of age. His locks, once -brown, inclining to auburn, were shaggy and -grizzled; his mouth, seldom smiling even in -youth, was close shut; his whole aspect had -something in it at once painful and unpleasant.”—About -1872.</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Appleton’s<br /> -Journal</i>, 1873.</div> - -<p>“Bulwer is described as having been, at -this period of his first brilliant triumph, rather -taller than the middle height, -with a graceful, slender figure, -well-proportioned limbs, and a countenance -stamped with distinctly aristocratic features -and expression. His dark-brown, curly hair, -his large and bright blue eye, his decided,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> -though delicately-formed aquiline nose, his -rather full and handsome mouth, his patrician, -almost haughty pose and manner, as seen -at that time, are dwelt on, with true feminine -enthusiasm, by a lady who frequented the -circles of which he was regarded as one of -the most shining ornaments.”—1828.</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Appleton’s<br /> -Journal</i>, 1873.</div> - - -<p>“It was my fortune to see Bulwer in the -House of Commons in 1863 and 1865, and -in the House of Lords, to which -he had recently risen, in 1868. -He then had the appearance of being a man -of some fifty years, tallish, straight, stiff, and -proudly sedate. His long, sombre face was -no longer ‘fair,’ but was yellow and wrinkled, -while the almost cadaverous aspect of his -features added to the really far from proportionate -prominence of his long, aquiline -nose. He now wore a moustache with his -‘heavy red whiskers,’ which had themselves -become a dull brown, plentifully sprinkled -with gray; and upon his chin he grew an -imperial. His hair was still thick, but no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> -trace of its rich auburn hue of youth remained; -it was a heavy gray in colour. -Spectacles partially concealed the large but -now dulled and glassy blue eyes; and the -whole appearance was far from prepossessing. -On the former occasion referred to, I heard -him address the House in an eloquent and -evidently carefully-prepared speech of half an -hour. His manner was quiet and subdued, -his voice no longer ‘lover-like and sweet,’ but -rather harsh and grating, and his declamation -humdrum; occasionally a spark of the old -animation appeared, when he drew himself up -to the full height, and, for the moment seemed -a very orator in motion as in speech; but the -spark soon vanished, and he was again -Pelham grown old, the exhausted and -melancholy beau and wit of the past, -struggling through an imposed task.... -His dress was conspicuously plain, almost -stiff and ministerial; though there was something -about the attire of the neck which -seemed a suspicion of a relic of dandyism.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY<br /> - -<small>1800-1859</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Trevelyan’s <i>Life<br /> -and Letters of<br /> -Lord Macaulay</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Macaulay’s</span> outward man was never better -described than in two sentences of Praed’s Introduction -to Knight’s <i>Quarterly -Magazine</i>. ‘There came up a -short manly figure, marvellously -upright, with a bad neckcloth, and one hand -in his waistcoat pocket. Of regular beauty -he had little to boast; but in faces where -there is an expression of great power, or of -great good-humour, or both, you do not regret -its absence.’ This picture, in which every -touch is correct, tells all that there is to be told. -He had a massive head, and features of a -powerful and rugged cast, but so constantly -lit up by every joyful and ennobling emotion -that it mattered little if, when absolutely -quiescent, his face was rather homely than -handsome. While conversing at table no one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> -thought him otherwise than good-looking; -but, when he rose, he was seen to be short -and stout in figure. ‘At Holland House, the -other day,’ writes his sister Margaret in September -1831, ‘Tom met Lady Lyndhurst -for the first time. She said to him: “Mr. -Macaulay, you are so different to what -I had expected. I thought you were dark -and thin, but you are fair, and really, Mr. -Macaulay, you are fat!”’ He at all times sat -and stood straight, full, and square; and in -this respect Woolner, in the fine statue at -Cambridge, has missed what was undoubtedly -the most marked fact in his personal appearance. -He dressed badly, but not cheaply. -His clothes, though ill put on, were good, and -his wardrobe was always enormously overstocked.”—1822 -and 1831.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Crabb Robinson’s<br /> -<i>Diary</i>.</div> - -<p>“I went to James Stephen, and drove with -him to his house at Hendon. A -dinner-party. I had a most interesting -companion in young Macaulay, one -of the most promising of the rising generation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> -I have seen for a long time. He has a good -face,—not the delicate features of a man of -genius and sensibility, but the strong lines and -well-knit limbs of a man sturdy in body and -mind. Very eloquent and cheerful. Overflowing -with words, and not poor in thought. -Liberal in opinion, but no radical. He seems -a correct as well as a full man. He showed -a minute knowledge of subjects not introduced -by himself.”—1826.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Retrospect of a<br /> -long Life</i>.</div> - - -<p>“I never heard Macaulay speak in the -House, where, although by no means an -orator, he always made a strong -impression. He spoke as he -wrote,—eloquently in the choicest -diction,—smooth, easy, graceful, and ever to -the purpose, striving to convince rather than -persuade, and grudging no toil of preparation -to sustain an argument or enforce a truth. -His person was in his favour; in form as -in mind he was robust, with a remarkably -intelligent expression, aided by deep blue -eyes that seemed to sparkle, and a mouth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> -remarkably flexible. His countenance was -certainly well calculated to impress on his -audience the classical language ever at his -command—so faithfully did it mirror the high -intelligence of the speaker.... I found him—as -the world has found him—a man of rare -intelligence, deep research, and untiring -energy in pursuit of facts: also a kind, -courteous, and unaffected gentleman. His -memory is to me one of the pleasantest I can -recall.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">WILLIAM MAGINN<br /> - -<small>1793-1842</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">William<br /> -Maginn’s <i>Miscellanies</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“All</span> were standing, all were listening to -some one who sat in the middle of a group. -A low-seated man, short in stature, -was uttering pleasantries and -scattering witticisms about him -with the careless glee of his country. His -articulation was impeded by a stutter, yet the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> -sentences he stammered forth were brilliant -repartees uttered without sharpness, and -edged rather with humour than with satire. -His countenance was rather agreeable than -striking; its expression sweet rather than -bright; the gray hair, coming straight over -his forehead, gave a singular appearance to a -face still bearing the attributes of youth. He -was thirty or thereabouts, but his thoughtful -brow, his hair, and the paleness of his complexion, -gave him many of the attributes -of age. His conversation was careless and -off-hand, and, but for the impediment of -speech, would have had the charm of a rich -comedy. His choice of words was such as -I have rarely met with in any of my contemporaries.”—1824.</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Bentley’s Miscellany</i>,<br /> -1842.</div> - - -<p>“I dined to-day at the Salopian with Dr. -Maginn. He is a most remarkable fellow. -His flow of ideas is incredibly -quick, and his articulation so rapid, -that it is difficult to follow him. He is -altogether a person of vast acuteness, celerity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> -of apprehension, and indefatigable activity -both of body and mind. His is about my own -height; but I could allow him an inch round -the chest. His forehead is very finely developed, -his organ of language and ideality -large, and his reasoning faculties excellent. -His hair is quite gray, although he does not -look more than forty. I imagined he was -much older looking, and that he wore a -wig. While conversing his eye is never a -moment at rest: in fact his whole body is -in motion, and he keeps scrawling grotesque -figures upon the paper before him, and -rubbing them out again as fast as he draws -them. He and Gifford are, as you know, -joint editors of the <i>Standard</i>.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Dublin<br /> -University<br /> -Magazine</i>, 1844.</div> - - -<p>“Well does the writer of this notice -recollect the feelings with which he first -wended to the residence of his -late friend. He was then but a -mere boy, fresh from the university.... -He went, and was shown upstairs; -the doctor was not at home, but was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> -momentarily expected.... Suddenly, when -his heart almost sank within him, a light step -was heard ascending the stairs—it could not -be a man’s foot—no, it was too delicate for -that; it must, certainly, be the nursery-maid. -The step was arrested at the door, a brief -interval, and Maginn entered. The spell -vanished like lightning, and the visitor took -heart in a moment. No formal-looking personage, -in customary suit of solemn black, -stood before him, but a slight, boyish, careless -figure, with a blue eye, the mildest ever -seen—hair, not exactly white, but of a sunned -snow colour—an easy, familiar smile—and a -countenance that you would be more inclined -to laugh with than feel terror from. He -bounded across the room with a most unscholar-like -eagerness, and warmly welcomed -the visitor, asking him a thousand questions, -and putting him at ease with himself in a -moment. Then, taking his arm, both sallied -forth into the street, where, for a long time, -the visitor was in doubt whether it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> -Maginn to whom he was really talking as -familiarly as if he were his brother, or whether -the whole was a dream. And such, indeed, -was the impression generally made on the -minds of all strangers—but, as in the present -case, it was dispelled instantly the living -original appeared. Then was to be seen the -kindness and gentleness of heart which tinged -every word and gesture with sweetness; the -suavity and mildness, so strongly the reverse -of what was to be expected from the most -galling satirest of the day; the openness of -soul and countenance, that disarmed even the -bitterest of his opponents; the utter absence -of anything like prejudice and bigotry from -him the ablest and most devoted champion of -the Church and State. No pedantry in his -language, no stateliness of style, no forced -metaphors, no inappropriate anecdote, no -overweening confidence—all easy, simple, -agreeable, and unzoned.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">FRANCIS MAHONY<br /> - -<small>(<span class="smcap">Father Prout</span>)</small><br /> - -<small>1805-1866</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">The works of<br /> -Father Prout.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Stooping</span> his short and spare but thick-set -figure as he walked, wearing his ill-brushed -hat upon the extreme back of his -head, clothed in the slovenliest -way in a semi-clerical dress of the shabbiest -character, he sauntered by with his right arm -habitually clasped behind him in his left -hand,—altogether presenting to view so -distinctly the appearance of a member of one -of the mendicant orders, that upon one occasion, -in the Rue de Rivoli, an intimate friend -of his found it impossible to resist the impulse -of slipping a sou into the open palm of his -right hand, with the apologetic remark, ‘You -<i>do</i> look so like a beggar.’ Apart, however, -from his threadbare garb and shambling gait, -there were personal traits of character about -him which caught the attention almost at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> -a glance, and piqued the curiosity of even -the least observant wayfarer. The ‘roguish -Hibernian mouth,’ noted in his regard by -Mr. Gruneisen, and the gray piercing eyes, -that looked up at you so keenly over his -spectacles, won your interest in him even -upon a first introduction. From the mocking -lips soon afterwards, if you fell into conversation -with him, came the ‘loud snappish -laugh,’ with which, as Mr. Blanchard Jerrold -remarks, the Father so frequently evinced -his appreciation of a casual witticism—uproarious -fits of merriment signalising at other -moments one of his own ironical successes, -outbursts of fun followed during his later -years by the racking cough with which he -was too often then tormented.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Blanchard<br /> -Jerrold’s <i>Final<br /> -Reliques of<br /> -Father Prout</i>.</div> - - -<p>“The Rev. Francis Mahony, or Father -Prout, trudging along the Boulevards with -his arms clasped behind him, his -nose in the air, his hat worn as -French caricaturists insist all -Englishmen wear hat or cap; his quick, clear,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> -deep-seeking eye wandering sharply to the -right or left, and sarcasm—not of the sourest -kind—playing like Jack-o’-lantern in the -corners of his mouth, Father Prout was as -much a character of the French capital as the -learned Armenian of the Imperial Library -only a few years ago.... It was difficult -to meet Father Prout. He was an odd, -uncomfortable, uncertain man. His moods -changed like April skies. Light little -thoughts were busy in his brain, lively and -frisking as ‘troutlets in a pool.’ He was -impatient of interruption, and shambled -forward talking in an undertone to himself, -with now and then a bubble or two of -laughter, or one short sharp laugh almost -like a bark, like that of the marksman when -the arrow quivers in the bull’s-eye. He -would pass you with a nod that meant ‘Hold -off—not to-day!’... He was very impatient -if any injudicious friend or passing -acquaintance (who took him to be usually as -accessible as any <i>flâneur</i> on the macadam),<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> -thrust himself forward and would have his -hand and agree with him that it was a fine -day, but would possibly rain shortly. A -sharp answer, and an unceremonious plunge -forward without bow or good-day, would put -an end to the interruption. Of course the -Father was called a bear by shallow-pates -who could not see that there was something -extra in the little man talking to himself and -shuffling, with his hands behind him, through -the <i>fines fleurs</i> and <i>grandes dames</i> of the -Italian Boulevard.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A personal<br /> -friend.</div> - - -<p>“In recalling the Rev. Francis Mahony, -I am forcibly reminded of a few lines at the -beginning of old Burton’s <i>Anatomy -of Melancholy</i>: ‘Democritus, -as he is described by Hippocrates, -and Laërtius, was a little wearish old man, -very melancholy by nature, averse from -company in his latter dayes, and much given -to solitariness, a famous philosopher in his -age, ... wholly addicted to his studies at -the last, and to a private life; writ many excellent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> -workes.’ Substituting Father Prout’s -name for that of Democritus, the words are -equally descriptive of the quaint little Irishman. -He was a small spare man, with a -pale deeply-lined face; badly dressed; with -gray unkempt whiskers, and a certain waspish -expression on his thin face which was utterly -at variance, not only with the good Father’s -writings,—which for ‘real larky fun,’ as -James Hannay expressed it, are unsurpassed,—but -also with the really kind nature of the -man. His eyes were by far the best feature -of his face. Keen, bright, and piercing, they -were eyes that held you. Their glance was -very rapid and eager, and instantly prepossessed -you in his favour.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">FREDERICK MARRYAT<br /> - -<small>1792-1848</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">F. Marryat’s<br /> -<i>Life and Letters<br /> -of Captain<br /> -Marryat</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Although</span> not handsome, Captain Marryat’s -personal appearance was very prepossessing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> -In figure he was upright, and broad-shouldered -for his height, which measured -five feet ten inches. His hands, -without being under-sized, were -remarkably perfect in form, and -modelled by a sculptor at Rome on account -of their symmetry. The character of his -mind was borne out by his features, the most -salient expression of which was the frankness -of an open heart. The firm decisive mouth -and massive thoughtful forehead were redeemed -from heaviness by the humorous -light that twinkled in his deep-set gray eyes, -which, bright as diamonds, positively flashed -out their fun, or their reciprocation of the -fun of others. As a young man, dark crisp -curls covered his head; but, later in life, -when, having exchanged the sword for the -pen and the ploughshare, he affected a soberer -and more patriarchal style of dress and -manner, he wore his gray hair long, and -almost down to his shoulders. His eyebrows -were not alike, one being higher up and more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> -arched than the other, which peculiarity -gave his face a look of inquiry, even in -repose. In the upper lip was a deep cleft, -and in his chin as deep a dimple—a pitfall -for the razor, which, from the ready growth -of his dark beard, he was often compelled to -use twice a day.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Cornhill</i>,<br /> -1876.</div> - -<p>“He was not a tall man—five feet ten—but -I think intended by nature to be six feet, -only having gone to sea when still -almost a child, at a time when the -between-decks were very low-pitched, he -had, he himself declared, had his growth -unnaturally stopped. His immensely powerful -build and massive chest, which measured -considerably over forty inches round, would -incline one to this belief. He had never -been handsome, as far as features went, but -the irregularity of his features might easily -be forgotten by those who looked at the -intellect shown in his magnificent forehead. -His forehead and his hands were his two -strong points. The latter were models of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> -symmetry. Indeed, while resident at Rome, -at an earlier period of his life, he had been -requested by a sculptor to allow his hand to -be modelled. At the time I now speak of -him he was fifty-two years of age, but looked -considerably younger. His face was clean-shaved, -and his hair so long that it reached -almost to his shoulders, curly in light loose -locks like those of a woman. It was slightly -gray. He was dressed in anything but evening -costume on the present occasion, having -on a short velveteen shooting-jacket and -coloured trousers. I could not help smiling -as I glanced at his dress—recalling to my -mind what a dandy he had been as a young -man.”—1844.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HARRIET MARTINEAU<br /> - -<small>1802-1876</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">H. Martineau’s<br /> -<i>Autobiography</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“She</span> was graver and laughed more rarely -than any young person I ever knew. Her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> -face was plain, and (you will scarcely believe -it) she had <i>no</i> light in the countenance, -no expression to redeem the -features. The low brow and -rather large under lip increased the effect of -her natural seriousness of look, and did her -much injustice. I used to be asked occasionally, -‘What has offended Harriet that -she looks so glum?’—I, who understood -her, used to answer, ‘Nothing; she is not -offended, it is only her look,’”—1818.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">James Payn’s<br /> -<i>Literary<br /> -Recollections</i>.</div> - -<p>“In the porch stood Miss Martineau herself. -A lady of middle height, ‘inclined’ as -the novelists say ‘to <i>embonpoint</i>,’ -with a smile on her kindly face -and her trumpet at her ear. She -was at that time, I suppose, about fifty years -of age; her brown hair had a little grey in it, -and was arranged with peculiar flatness over -a low but broad forehead. I don’t think she -could ever have been pretty, but her features -were not uncomely, and their expression was -gentle and motherly.”—1852.</p> - - - -<div class="sidenote">H. Martineau’s<br /> -<i>Autobiography</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>“... I saw Miss Martineau a few weeks -since. She is a large, robust, elderly woman, -and plainly dressed; but withal -she has so kind, cheerful, and -intelligent a face, that she is pleasanter to -look at than most beauties. Her hair is of a -decided gray, and she does not shrink from -calling herself old. She is the most continual -talker I ever heard; it is really like -the babbling of a brook; and very lively and -sensible too; and all the while she talks she -moves the bowl of her ear-trumpet from one -auditor to another, so that it becomes quite an -organ of intelligence and sympathy between -her and yourself.... All her talk was about -herself and her affairs; but it did not seem -like egotism, because it was so cheerful and -free from morbidness.”—About 1856.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">FREDERICK DENISON MAURICE<br /> - -<small>1805-1872</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">F. Maurice’s<br /> -<i>Life of<br /> -F. D. Maurice</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“He</span> was distinctly below the middle height, -not above five feet seven inches, but he had -a certain dignity of carriage, -despite the entire absence of any -self-assertion of manner, which in -the pulpit, where only his head and shoulders -were observable, removed the impression of -small stature.... His hair was now of a -silvery white, very ample in quantity, fine -and soft as silk. The rush of his start for a -walk had gone. His movements had, like -his life, become quiet and measured. At no -time had there been so much beauty about -his face and figure. There was now—partly -from manner, partly from face, partly from a -character that seemed expressed in all,—beauty -which seemed to shine round him, -and was very commonly observed by those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> -amongst whom he was. It made undergraduates, -not specially impressionable, stop -and watch him.... Servants and poor -people whom he visited often spoke of him -as ‘beautiful.’”—1866.</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Spectator</i>,<br /> -1872.</div> - - -<p>“Yet though Mr. Maurice’s voice seemed -to be the essential part of him as a religious -teacher, his face, if you ever -looked at it, was quite in keeping -with his voice. His eye was full of sweetness, -but fixed, and, as it were, fascinated on -some ideal point. His countenance expressed -nervous, high-strung tension, as though all -the various play of feelings in ordinary human -nature converged, in him, towards a single -focus, the declaration of the divine purpose. -Yet this tension, this peremptoriness, this -convergence of his whole nature on a single -point, never gave the effect of a dictatorial -air for a moment. There was a quiver -in his voice, a tremulousness in the strong -deep lines of his face, a tenderness in his -eye, which assured you at once that nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> -of the hard crystallising character of a dogmatic -belief in the Absolute had conquered -his heart, and most men recognised this, for -the hardest and most business-like voices -took a tender and almost caressing tone in -addressing him.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">JOHN MILTON<br /> - -<small>1608-1674</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">D’Israeli’s<br /> -<i>Curiosities of<br /> -Literature</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Salmasius</span> sometimes reproaches Milton as -being but a puny piece of man, an homunculus, -a dwarf deprived of the human -figure, a bloodless being composed -of nothing but skin and bone, a -contemptible pedagogue, fit only to flog his -boys; and rising into a poetic frenzy applies -to him the words of Virgil: ‘<i>Monstrum horrendum, -informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum.</i>’ -Our great poet thought this senseless declamation -merited a serious refutation;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> -perhaps he did not wish to appear despicable -in the eyes of the ladies; and he would not -be silent on the subject, he says, lest any one -should consider him as the credulous -Spaniards are made to believe by their -priests, that a heretic is a kind of rhinoceros -or a dog-headed monster. Milton says that -he does not think any one ever considered -him as unbeautiful; that his size rather -approaches mediocrity than the diminutive; -that he still felt the same courage and the same -strength which he possessed when young, -when, with his sword, he felt no difficulty to -combat with men more robust than himself; -that his face, far from being pale, emaciated, -and wrinkled, was sufficiently creditable to -him: for though he had passed his fortieth -year, he was in all other respects ten years -younger. And very pathetically he adds, -‘That even his eyes, blind as they are, are -unblemished in their appearance; in this -instance alone, and much against my inclination, -I am a deceiver!’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Aubrey’s<br /> -<i>Lives of<br /> -Eminent<br /> -Persons</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>“He was scarce as tall as I am.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> He -had light browne hayre. His complexion -exceeding fayre. Ovall face, his eie -a darke gray. His widowe has his picture -drawne very well and like, when -a Cambridge scollar. She has his picture -when a Cambridge scollar, which ought to -be engraven; for the pictures before his -books are not at all like him.... He was a -spare man.... Extreme pleasant in his -conversation, and at dinner, supper, etc., but -satyricall. He pronounced the letter <i>r</i> very -hard. He had a delicate tuneable voice, and -had good skill. His harmonicall and ingeniose -soul did lodge in a beautiful and well-proportioned -body:—‘In toto nusquam corpore -menda fuit.’—Ovid.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Keightley’s<br /> -<i>Life of Milton</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“In his person Milton was rather under -the middle size, well built and muscular. -‘His deportment,’ says Wood, ‘was -affable, and his gait erect and -manly, bespeaking courage and undauntedness.’<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> -He was skilled in the use of the -small sword, and, though he certainly would -not have engaged in a duel, he had strength, -skill, and courage to repel the attack of any -adversary. His hair, which never fell off, was -of a light-brown hue, and he wore it parted -on his forehead as it is represented in his -portraits. His eyes were gray, and, as the -cause of his blindness was internal, they -suffered no change of appearance from it. -His face was oval, and his complexion was -so fine in his youth that at Cambridge he was, -as we are told by Aubrey, called the Lady -of his College; even in his later days his -cheeks retained a ruddy tinge. He had a -fine ear for music, and was well skilled in that -delightful science; he used to perform on the -organ and bass-viol. His voice was sweet -and musical, and we may presume that his -singing showed both taste and science.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">MARY RUSSELL MITFORD<br /> - -<small>1786-1855</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“I certainly</span> was disappointed when a stout -little lady, tightened up in a shawl, rolled into -the parlour of Newman Street, and -Mrs. Holland announced her as -Miss Mitford; her short petticoats -showing wonderfully stout leather boots, her -shawl <i>bundled</i> on, and a little black coal-scuttle -bonnet—when bonnets were expanding—added -to the effect of her natural shortness -and rotundity; but her manner was that of a -cordial country gentlewoman; the pressure of -her ‘fat’ little hands (for she extended both) -was warm; her eyes, both soft and bright, -looked kindly and frankly into mine; and her -pretty rosy mouth dimpled with smiles that -were always sweet and friendly.... She was -always pleasant to look at, and had her face -not been cast in so broad—so ‘out-spread’—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>a -mould, she would have been handsome; -even with that disadvantage, if her figure had -been tall enough to carry her head with -dignity, she would have been so; but she -was most vexatiously ‘dumpy.’ Miss Landon -‘hit off’ her appearance when she whispered, -the first time she saw her (and it was at our -house), ‘Sancho Panza in petticoats!’ but -when Miss Mitford spoke, the awkward effect -vanished,—her pleasant voice, her beaming -eyes and smiles, made you forget the wide -expanse of face; and the roley-poley figure, -when seated, did not appear really short.”—1828.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">James Payn’s<br /> -<i>Literary<br /> -Recollections</i>.</div> - -<p>“I can never forget the little figure rolled -up in two chairs in the little Swallowfield -room, packed round with books up -to the ceiling, on to the floor—the -little figure with clothes on of -course, but of no recognised or recognisable -pattern; and somewhere out of the upper -end of the heap, gleaming under a great deep, -globular brow, two such eyes as I never,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> -perhaps, saw in any other Englishwoman—though -I believe she must have had French -blood in her veins, to breed such eyes, and -such a tongue, for the beautiful speech which -came out of that ugly (it was that) face, and -the glitter and depth too of the eyes, like live -coals—perfectly honest the while, both lips -and eyes—these seemed to me to be attributes -of the highest French, or rather Gallic, not -of the highest English, woman. In any case, -she was a triumph of mind over matter, of -spirit over flesh, which gave the lie to all -materialism, and puts Professor Bain out of -court—at least out of court with those who -use fair induction about the men and women -whom they meet and know.”—About 1851.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">James Payn’s<br /> -<i>Literary<br /> -Recollections</i>.</div> - -<p>“I seem to see the dear little old lady now, -looking like a venerable fairy, with bright -sparkling eyes, a clear, incisive -voice, and a laugh that carried you -away with it. I never saw a -woman with such an enjoyment of—I was -about to say a joke, but the word is too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> -coarse for her—of a pleasantry. She was -the warmest of friends, and with all her love -of fun never alluded to their weaknesses.... -I well remember our first interview. I -expected to find the authoress of <i>Our Village</i> -in a most picturesque residence, overgrown -with honeysuckle and roses, and set in an -old-fashioned garden. Her little cottage at -Swallowfield, near Reading, did not answer -this picture at all. It was a cottage, but not -a pretty one, placed where three roads met, -with only a piece of green before it. But if -the dwelling disappointed me, the owner did -not. I was ushered upstairs (for at that -time, crippled by rheumatism, she was unable -to leave her room) into a small apartment, -lined with books from floor to ceiling, and -fragrant with flowers; its tenant rose from -her arm-chair with difficulty, but with a sunny -smile and a charming manner bade me welcome. -My father had been an old friend of -hers, and she spoke of my home and belongings -as only a woman can speak of such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> -things. Then we plunged, <i>in medias res</i>, into -men and books.”—1852.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU<br /> - -<small>1690-1762</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Horace<br /> -Walpole’s<br /> -<i>Letters</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“I went</span> last night to visit her. I give -you my word of honour, and you who know -her will believe me without it, the -following is a faithful description: -I found her in a little miserable -bedchamber of a ready furnished house, with -two tallow candles and a bureau covered with -pots and pans. On her head, in full of all -accounts, she had an old black-laced hood -wrapped entirely round so as to conceal all -hair, or want of hair; no handkerchief, but -instead of it a kind of horseman’s riding-coat, -calling itself a <i>pet-en-l’air</i>, made of a dark -green brocade, with coloured and silver -flowers, and lined with furs; bodice laced;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> -a full dimity petticoat, sprigged; velvet -muffetees on her arms; gray stockings and -slippers. Her face less changed in twenty -years than I would have imagined. I told -her so, and she was not so tolerable twenty -years ago that she should have taken it for -flattery, but she did, and literally gave me a -box on the ears. She is very lively, all her -senses perfect, her language as imperfect as -ever, her avarice greater.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Horace<br /> -Walpole’s<br /> -<i>Letters</i>.</div> - -<p>“Did I tell you that Lady Mary Wortley -is here? She laughs at my Lady Walpole, -scolds my Lady Pomfret, and is -laughed at by the whole town. -Her dress, her avarice, and her -impudence must amaze any one that never -heard her name. She wears a foul mob, that -does not cover her greasy black locks, that -hang loose, never combed or curled; an old -mazarine blue wrapper, that gapes open and -discovers a canvas petticoat. Her face -swelled violently on one side with the -remains of a ——, partly covered with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> -plaister, and partly with white paint, which -for cheapness she has bought so coarse -that you would not use it to wash a chimney.—In -three words I will give you her picture -as we drew it in the ‘Sortes Virgilianae’—</p> - -<p class="center">‘Insanam vatem aspicies.’</p> - -<p>I give you my honour we did not choose it; -but Gray, Mr. Coke, Sir Francis Dashwood, -and I, and several others, drew it fairly -amongst a thousand for different people, most -of which did not hit as you may imagine.”—1740.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">THOMAS MOORE<br /> - -<small>1779-1852</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Leigh Hunt’s<br /> -<i>Autobiography</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Moore’s</span> forehead was bony and full of -character, with ‘bumps’ of wit, large and -radiant enough to transport a -phrenologist. Sterne had such -another. His eyes were as dark and fine as -you would wish to see under a set of vine-leaves;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> -his mouth generous and good-humoured, -with dimples; and his manner -was as bright as his talk, full of the wish -to please and be pleased. He sang, and -played with great taste on the pianoforte, as -might be supposed from his musical compositions. -His voice, which was a little -hoarse in speaking (at least I used to think -so), softened into a breath, like that of a -flute, when singing. In speaking he was -emphatic in rolling the letter <i>r</i>, perhaps out -of a despair of being able to get rid of the -national peculiarity.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - -<p>“His eyes sparkle like a champagne -bubble; there is a kind of wintry red, of the -tinge of an October leaf, that seems -enamelled on his cheek; his lips -are delicately cut, slight, and changeable -as an aspen; the slightly-turned nose confirms -the fun of the expression; and altogether -it is a face that sparkles, beams, and radiates—</p> - - -<p class="center">‘The light that surrounds him is all from within.’”</p> - -<p>1835.</p> - - - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Retrospect of<br /> -a Long Life</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>“I recall him at this moment—his small -form and intellectual face rich in expression, -and that expression the sweetest, -the most gentle, and the kindliest. -He had still in age the same bright -and clear eye, the same gracious smile, the -same suave and winning manner I had noticed -as the attributes of what might in comparison -be styled his youth (I have stated I knew him -as long ago as 1821); a forehead not remarkably -broad or high, but singularly impressive, -firm, and full, with the organs of music and -gaiety large, and those of benevolence and -veneration greatly preponderating; the nose, -as observed in all his portraits, was somewhat -upturned. Standing or sitting, his -head was invariably upraised, owing, perhaps, -mainly to his shortness of stature. He had -so much bodily activity as to give him the -attribute of restlessness, and no doubt that -usual accompaniment of genius was eminently -a characteristic of his. His hair was, at the -time I speak of, thin and very gray, and he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> -wore his hat with the jaunty air that has -been often remarked as a peculiarity of the -Irish. In dress, although far from slovenly, -he was by no means precise. He had but -little voice, yet he sang with a depth of -sweetness that charmed all hearers; it was -true melody, and told upon the heart as well -as the ear. No doubt much of this charm -was derived from association, for it was only -his own melodies he sang.”—1845.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HANNAH MORE<br /> - -<small>1745-1833</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Memoir of<br /> -Mrs. Hannah<br /> -More.</i></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“I was</span> much struck by the air of affectionate -kindness with which the old lady welcomed -me to Barley Wood—there was -something of courtliness about it, -at the same time the courtliness -of the <i>vieille cour</i>, which one reads of, but so -seldom sees. Her dress was of light green<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> -Venetian silk; a yellow, richly embroidered -crape shawl enveloped her shoulders; and -a pretty net cap, tied under her chin with -white satin riband, completed the costume. -Her figure is singularly <i>petite</i>; but to have -any idea of the expression of her countenance, -you must imagine the small withered face of -a woman in her seventy-seventh year; and, -imagine also (shaded, but not obscured, by -long and perfectly white eyelashes) eyes -dark, brilliant, flashing, and penetrating, -sparkling from object to object, with all the -fire and energy of youth, and smiling welcome -on all around.”—1820.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - -<p>“Her form was small and slight: her -features wrinkled with age; but the burden -of eighty years had not impaired -her gracious smile, nor lessened the -fire of her eyes, the clearest, the -brightest, and the most searching I have -ever seen—they were singularly dark—positively -black they seemed as they looked -forth among carefully-trained tresses of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> -own white hair; and absolutely sparkled -while she spoke of those of whom she was -the venerated link between the present and -the long past. Her manner on entering the -room, while conversing, and at our departure, -was positively sprightly; she tripped about -from console to console, from window to -window, to show us some gift that bore a -name immortal, some cherished reminder of -other days—almost of another world, certainly -of another age; for they were memories of -those whose deaths were registered before -the present century had birth.... She was -clad, I well remember, in a dress of rich pea-green -silk. It was an odd whim, and contrasted -somewhat oddly with her patriarchal -age and venerable countenance, yet was in -harmony with the youth of her step, and -her unceasing vivacity as she laughed and -chatted, chatted and laughed, her voice -strong and clear as that of a girl, and her -animation as full of life and vigour as it -might have been in her spring-time.”—1825.</p> - - - -<div class="sidenote">A. M. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Pilgrimages<br /> -to English<br /> -Shrines</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>“Her brow was full and well sustained, -rather than what would be called <i>fine</i>: from -the manner in which her hair was -dressed, its formation was distinctly -visible; and though her -eyes were half-closed, her countenance -was more tranquil, more sweet, more -holy—for it <i>had</i> a holy expression—than -when those deep intense eyes were looking -you through and through. Small, and -shrunk, and aged as she was, she conveyed -to us no idea of feebleness. She looked, -even then, a woman whose character, combining -sufficient thought and wisdom, as well -as dignity and spirit, could analyse and exhibit, -in language suited to the intellect of -the people of England, the evils and dangers -of revolutionary principles. Her voice had -a pleasant tone, and her manner was quite -devoid of affectation or dictation; she spoke -as one expecting a reply, and by no means -like an oracle. And those bright immortal -eyes of hers—not wearied by looking at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> -world for more than eighty years, but clear -and far-seeing then—laughing, too, when she -spoke cheerfully, not as authors are believed -to speak—</p> - -<p class="center">‘In measured pompous tones,’—</p> - -<p>but like a dear matronly dame, who had -especial care and tenderness towards young -women. It is impossible to remember how -it occurred, but in reference to some observation -I had made she turned briskly round -and exclaimed, ‘Controversy hardens the -heart, and sours the temper: never dispute -with your husband, young lady; tell him -what you think, and leave it to time to -fructify.’”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SIR THOMAS MORE<br /> - -<small>1480-1535</small></h2></div> - -<div class="sidenote">More’s<br /> -<i>Life of Sir<br /> -Thomas More</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“He</span> was of a meane stature, well proportioned, -his complexion tending to the -phlegmaticke, his colour white and pale, his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> -hayre neither black nor yellow, but betweene -both; his eies gray, his countenance -amiable and chearefull, his voyce -neither bigg nor shrill, but speaking -plainely and distinctly; it was not -very tunable, though he delighted much in -musike, his bodie reasonably healthfull, only -that towards his latter ende by using much -writing, he complained much of the ache of his -breaste. In his youth he drunke much water, -wine he only tasted of, when he pledged -others; he loved salte meates, especially -powdered beefe, milke, cheese, eggs and fruite, -and usually he eate of corse browne bread, -which it may be he rather used to punish -his taste, than from anie love he had thereto. -For he was singularly wise to deceave the -world with mortifications, only contenting -himselfe with the knowledge which God had -of his actions: et pater ejus, qui erat in -abscondito reddidit ei.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Campbell’s<br /> -<i>Lives of the<br /> -Lord Chancellors</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p>“Holbein’s portrait of More has made his -features familiar to all Englishmen. According<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> -to his great-grandson, he was of -‘a middle stature, well proportioned, of a -pale complexion; his hair of a -chestnut colour, his eyes gray, -his countenance mild and cheerful; -his voice not very musical, but clear -and distinct; his constitution, which was good -originally, was never impaired by his way of -living, otherwise than by too much study. -His diet was simple and abstemious, never -drinking any wine but when he pledged -those who drank to him, and rather mortifying -than indulging his appetite in what he -ate.’</p> - - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Life of Sir<br /> -Thomas More.</i><br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“He is rather below than above the middle -size; his countenance of an agreeable and -friendly cheerfulness, with somewhat -of an habitual inclination -to smile; and appears more adapted to -pleasantry than to gravity or dignity, though -perfectly remote from vulgarity or silliness.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">CAROLINE NORTON<br /> - -<small>1808-1877</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Kemble’s<br /> -<i>Records of<br /> -a Girlhood</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“When</span> I first knew Caroline Sheridan she -had not long been married to the Hon. -George Norton. She was splendidly -handsome, of an un-English character -of beauty, her rather large and -heavy head and features recalling the -grandest Grecian and Italian models, to the -latter of whom her rich colouring and blue-black -braids of hair gave her an additional -resemblance. Though neither as perfectly -lovely as the Duchess of Somerset, nor as -perfectly charming as Lady Dufferin, she -produced a far more striking impression than -either of them, by the combination of the -poetical genius with which she alone, of the -three, was gifted, with the brilliant power -of repartee which they (especially Lady -Dufferin) possessed in common with her,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> -united to the exceptional beauty with which -they were all three endowed. Mrs. Norton -was exceedingly epigrammatic in her talk, -and comically dramatic in her manner of -relating things.... She was no musician, -but had a deep, sweet contralto voice, -precisely the same in which she always -spoke, and which, combined with her always -lowered eyelids (‘downy eyelids’ with sweeping -silken fringes), gave such incomparably -comic effect to her sharp retorts and ludicrous -stories.... I admired her extremely.—1827.</p> - -<p>“The next time ... was at an evening party -at my sister’s house, where her appearance -struck me more than it had ever done. Her -dress had something to do with this effect, -no doubt. She had a rich gold-coloured -silk on, shaded and softened all over with -black lace draperies, and her splendid head, -neck, and arms, were adorned with magnificently -simple Etruscan ornaments, which she -had brought from Rome, whence she had just -returned, and where the fashion of that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> -famous antique jewellery had lately been -revived. She was still ‘une beauté triomphante -à faire voir aux ambassadeurs.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A personal<br /> -friend.</div> - - -<p>“The most beautiful of ‘the beautiful -Sheridans,’ Caroline Norton will also live in -the memory of her friends as one -of the most fascinating of women. -Her voice was exceedingly sweet and -musical, her movements wonderfully graceful, -and, with the solitary exception of Theodore -Hook, whose rough, coarse wit spared no -one, her queenly bearing won her general -adulation and deference. Her face was a -pure oval, her head was crowned by heavy -braids of the darkest hair, while the warmth -and light which suffused her expressive -countenance gave her a somewhat un-English -appearance. Her eyes were dark; -black curly lashes swept over the warmly-tinted -cheek; the lips were of geranium -red; the teeth, dazzlingly white. Altogether -she was a vivid piece of colouring, and as -she was always very beautifully dressed, it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> -did not require her literary reputation to -make her at all times sought after and admired.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Retrospect of<br /> -a long Life</i>.</div> - - -<p>“It seems but yesterday—it is not so very -long ago certainly—that I saw for the last -time the Hon. Mrs. Norton. Her -radiant beauty was then faded, but -her stately form had been little -impaired by years, and she had retained -much of the grace that made her early -womanhood so surpassingly attractive. She -combined, in a singular degree, feminine -delicacy with masculine vigour; though essentially -womanly, she seemed to have the -force of character of man. Remarkably -handsome she perhaps excited admiration -rather than affection. I can easily imagine -greater love to be given to a far plainer -woman. She had, in more than full measure, -the traditional beauty of her family, and no -doubt inherited with it some of the waywardness -that is associated with the name of -Sheridan.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">THOMAS OTWAY<br /> - -<small>1651-1685</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Gentleman’s<br /> -Magazine</i>, 1745.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“You’ll</span> be glad to know any trifling circumstance -concerning Otway. His person was -of the middle size, about five feet -seven inches in height, inclinable -to fatness. He had a thoughtful speaking -eye, and that was all. He gave himself up -early to drinking, and, like the unhappy wits -of that age, passed his days between rioting -and fasting, ranting jollity and abject penitence, -carousing one week with Lord Pl——th, -and then starving a month in low company -at an ale-house on Tower Hill.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Sir Walter<br /> -Scott’s <i>Memoir<br /> -of Mrs. Radcliffe</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“Otway, heavy, squalid, unhappy; yet -tender countenance, but not so squalid as -one we formerly saw; full-speaking, -black eyes; it seems as if -dissolute habits had overcome -all his finer feelings, and left him little of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> -mind, except a sense of sorrow.” <i>On a -picture.</i></p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SAMUEL PEPYS<br /> - -<small>1632-1703</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Cornhill<br /> -Magazine</i>, 1874.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Pepys</span> spent part of a certain winter Sunday, -when he had taken physic, composing ‘a -song in praise of a liberal genius -(such as I take my own to be) -to all studies and pleasures.’ The song was -successful, but the diary is, in a sense, the -very song that he was seeking; and his -portrait by Hales, so admirably reproduced -in Mynors Bright’s edition, is a confirmation -of the diary. Hales, it would appear, had -known his business, and though he put his -sitter to a deal of trouble, almost breaking -his neck ‘to have the portrait full of shadows,’ -and draping him in an Indian gown hired -expressly for the purpose, he was preoccupied -about no merely picturesque effects, but to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> -portray the essence of the man. Whether -we read the picture by the diary, or the diary -by the picture, we shall at least agree, that -Hales was among the numbers of those who -can ‘surprise the manners in a face.’ Here -we have a mouth pouting, moist with desires; -eyes greedy, protuberant, and yet apt for -weeping too; a nose great alike in character -and dimensions, and altogether a most fleshly, -melting countenance. The face is attractive -by its promise of reciprocity. I have used -the word <i>greedy</i>, but the reader must not -suppose that he can change it for that closely -kindred one of <i>hungry</i>, for there is here no -aspiration, no waiting for better things, but -an animal joy in all that comes. It could -never be the face of an artist; it is the face -of a <i>viveur</i>—kindly, pleased, and pleasing, -protected from excess and upheld in contentment -by the shifting versatility of his desires. -For a single desire is more rightly to be -called a lust; but there is health in a variety, -where one may balance and control another.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">ALEXANDER POPE<br /> - -<small>1688-1744</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Guardian</i>,<br /> -1713.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Dick Distich</span> ... we have elected president, -not only as he is the shortest of -us all, but because he has entertained -so just a sense of his -stature as to go generally in black, that he -may appear yet less. Nay, to that perfection -is he arrived, that he stoops as he walks. -The figure of the man is odd enough; he is -a lively little creature, with long arms and -legs: a spider is no ill emblem of him. He -has been taken at a distance for a small windmill.”—1713.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Johnson’s <i>Life<br /> -of Pope</i>.</div> - - -<p>“The person of Pope is well known not -to have been formed on the nicest model. -He has, in his account of the -Little Club, compared himself to -a spider, and, by another, is described as protuberant -behind and before. He is said to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> -have been beautiful in his infancy; but he -was of a constitution originally feeble and -weak; and, as bodies of a tender frame are -easily distorted, his deformity was, probably, -in part the effect of his application. His -stature was so low, that to bring him on a -level with common tables it was necessary to -raise his seat. But his face was not displeasing, -and his eyes were animated and vivid.... -His dress of ceremony was black, with -a tie-wig and a little sword.... He sometimes -condescended to be jocular with servants -or inferiors; but by no merriment, either of -others or of his own, was he ever seen excited -to laughter.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Tyer’s <i>Historical<br /> -rhapsody on Mr.<br /> -Pope</i>.</div> - - -<p>“Pope, as Lord Clarendon says of (the -ever memorable) Hales of Eaton, was one of -the least men in the kingdom; who adds of -Chillingworth, that he was of a -stature little superior to him, and -that it was an age in which there -were many great and wonderful men of that -size.... He inherited his deformity from his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> -father, who turns out at last, from the information -of Mrs. Racket his relation, to -have been a linen-draper in the Strand.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="verse">‘My friend, this shape which you and I will admire,</div> -<div class="verse">Came not from Ammon’s son, but from my sire,’</div> -</div></div> - -<p>as he expresses himself in his first epistle to -Arbuthnot. He was protuberant behind and -before, in the words of his last biographer. -But he carried a mind in his face, as a -reverend person once expressed himself of a -singular countenance. He had a brilliant -eye, which pervaded everything at a glance.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BRYAN WALLER PROCTER<br /> - -<small>1787-1874</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Froude’s<br /> -<i>Life of Carlyle</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“I have</span> also seen and scraped acquaintance -with Procter—Barry Cornwall. He is a -slender, rough-faced, palish, gentle, -languid-looking man, of three or -four and thirty. There is a dreamy mildness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> -in his eye; he is kind and good in his manners -and, I understand, in his conduct. He is a poet -by the ear and the fancy, but his heart and -intellect are not strong.”—1824.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Retrospect of<br /> -a long Life</i>.</div> - -<p>“A decidedly rather pretty little fellow, -Procter, bodily and spiritually: manners prepossessing, -slightly London-elegant, -not unpleasant; clear judgment in -him, though of narrow field; a sound, -honourable morality, and airy friendly ways; -of slight, neat figure, vigorous for his size; -fine genially rugged little face, fine head; -something curiously dreamy in the eyes of -him, lids drooping at the <i>outer</i> ends into a -cordially meditative and drooping expression; -would break out suddenly now and then into -opera attitude and a <i>Là ci darem là mano</i> for -a moment; had something of real fun, though -in London style.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Fields’s<br /> -<i>Yesterdays<br /> -with Authors</i>.</div> - - -<p>“The poet’s figure was short and full, and -his voice had a low, veiled tone -habitually in it, which made it sometimes -difficult to hear distinctly what he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> -saying. When he spoke in conversation, he -liked to be very near his listener, and thus -stand, as it were, on confidential grounds with -him. His turn of thought was apt to be -cheerful among his friends, and he entered -readily into a vein of wit and nimble expression. -Verbal facility seemed natural to him, -and his epithets, evidently unprepared, were -always perfect. He disliked cant and hard -ways of judging character. He praised -easily. He impressed every one who came -near him as a born gentleman, chivalrous and -generous in a high degree.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">THOMAS DE QUINCEY<br /> - -<small>1786-1859</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Masson’s<br /> -<i>de Quincey</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“In</span> addition to the general impression of -his diminutiveness and fragility, one was -struck with the peculiar beauty -of his head and forehead, -rising disproportionately high over his small,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> -wrinkly visage and gentle, deep-set eyes. -His talk was in the form of really harmonious -and considerate colloquy, and not at all in -that of monologue.... That evening passed, -and though I saw him once or twice again, it -is the last sight I remember best. It must -have been, I think, in 1846, on a summer -afternoon. A friend, a stranger in Edinburgh, -was walking with me in one of the pleasant, -quiet, country lanes near Edinburgh. Meeting -us, and the sole living thing in the lane -beside ourselves, came a small figure, not -untidily dressed, but with his hat pushed far -up in front of his forehead, and hanging on -his hindhead, so that the back rim must have -been resting on his coat-collar. At a little -distance I recognised it to be De Quincey; -but, not considering myself entitled to -interrupt his meditations, I only whispered -the information to my friend, that he might -not miss what the look at such a celebrity -was worth. So we passed him, giving him -the wall. Not unnaturally, however, after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> -we passed, we turned round for the pleasure -of a back view of the wee, intellectual wizard. -Whether my whisper and our glance had -alarmed him, as a ticket-of-leave man might -be rendered uneasy in his solitary walk by the -scrutiny of two passing strangers, or whether -he had some recollection of me (which was -likely enough, as he seemed to forget nothing), -I do not know, but we found that he, too, had -stopped, and was looking round at us. -Apparently scared at being caught doing so, -he immediately wheeled round again, and -hurried his face towards a side-turning in the -lane, into which he disappeared, his hat still -hanging on the back of his head. That was -my last sight of De Quincey.”—1846.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Page’s<br /> -<i>de Quincey</i>.</div> - - -<p>“Pale he was, with a head of wonderful -size, which served to make more apparent the -inferior dimensions of his body, and -a face which lived the sculptured -past in every lineament from brow to chin. -One seeing him would surely be tempted to -ask who he was that took off his hat with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> -such grave politeness, remaining uncovered -if a lady were passing almost until she was -out of sight, and would get for an answer -likely enough, ‘Oh, that is little De Quincey, -who hears strange sounds and eats opium. -Did you ever see such a little man?’ Little -he was, indeed, like Dickens and Jeffrey, the -latter of whom had so little flesh that it was -said that his intellect was indecently exposed.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">James Payn’s<br /> -<i>Literary<br /> -Recollections</i>.</div> - - -<p>“In the ensuing summer, after the publication -of another volume of poems, I visited -Edinburgh, and called upon De -Quincey, to whom I had a letter of -introduction from Miss Mitford. He -was at that time residing at Lasswade, a few -miles from the town, and I went thither by -coach. He lived a secluded life, and even at -that date had become to the world a name -rather than a real personage; but it was a -great name. Considerable alarm agitated my -youthful heart as I drew near the house: I -felt like Burns on the occasion when he was -first about ‘to dinner wi’ a Lord.’... My<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> -apprehensions, however, proved to be utterly -groundless, for a more gracious and genial -personage I never met. Picture to yourself -a very diminutive man, carelessly—very carelessly—dressed; -a face lined, careworn, and -so expressionless that it reminded one of -‘that chill changeless brow, where cold -Obstruction’s apathy appals the gazing -mourners heart’—a face like death in life. -The instant he began to speak, however, it -lit up as though by electric light; this came -from his marvellous eyes, brighter and more -intelligent (though by fits) than I have ever -seen in any other mortal. They seemed to -me to glow with eloquence. He spoke of my -introducer, of Cambridge, of the Lake Country, -and of English poets. Each theme was interesting -to me, but made infinitely more so -by some apt personal reminiscence. As for -the last-named subject, it was like talking of -the Olympian gods to one not only cradled -in their creed, but who had mingled with -them, himself half an immortal.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">ANN RADCLIFFE<br /> - -<small>1764-1823</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Kavanagh’s<br /> -<i>English Women<br /> -of Letters</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Ann Ward’s</span> education was plain and -somewhat formal. She was shy; she showed -no extraordinary genius, and the -times were not propitious to the -development of female intellect. -The young girl’s person was probably more -admired than her mind. She was short, but -exquisitely proportioned; she had a lovely -complexion, fine eyes and eyebrows, and a -beautiful mouth. She had a sweet voice too, -and sang with feeling and taste.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Scott’s <i>Memoir<br /> -of Ann Radcliffe</i>.</div> - - -<p>“This admirable writer, whom I remember -from about the time of her twentieth year, -was, in her youth, of a figure -exquisitely proportioned, while -she resembled her father and his brother -and sister in being low of stature. Her -complexion was beautiful, as was her whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> -countenance, especially her eye, eyebrows, -and mouth.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Memoir of Mrs.<br /> -Ann Radcliffe.</i></div> - -<p>“Mrs. Radcliffe, though a giant in intellect, -was low in stature, and of a slender -form, but exquisitely proportioned: -her countenance was beautiful and -expressive.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SIR WALTER RALEIGH<br /> - -<small>1552-1618</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Nineteenth<br /> -Century</i>, 1881.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“In</span> appearance what manner of man was -Raleigh when in Ireland? There was much -change, of course, from the dashing -captain of eight and twenty, when -he was putting the unarmed men to the sword -and hanging the women in Dingle Bay, to -the admiral of sixty-five who, between the -Tower and the scaffold, visited his old haunts -in the county of Cork for the last time in the -three summer months of 1617.</p> - -<p>“But all accounts agree in giving him a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> -commanding presence, a handsome and well-compacted -figure, a forehead rather too high; -the lower part of his face, though partly hidden -by the moustache and peaked beard, showing -rare resolution. His portrait, a life-sized -head, painted when he was Major of Youghal, -was recently presented to the owner of his -house, where it had been years ago, by the -senior member for the county of Waterford; -and another original picture of him when in -Ireland is in the possession of the Rev. Pierce -W. Drew of Youghal. Both these Irish -pictures show the same lofty brow and firm -lips. There is an old and much-prized -engraving by Vander Werff of Amsterdam -that seems to combine all his characteristic -features—the extraordinarily high forehead, -the moustache and peaked beard, ill-concealing -a too determined mouth. The likeness is -most striking.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Aubrey’s <i>Lives of<br /> -Eminent Persons</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“He was a tall, handsome, and bold man; -but his <i>næve</i> was, that he was damnably -proud.... In the great parlour at Downton,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> -at Mr. Ralegh’s, is a good piece (an originall) -of Sir W. in a white sattin doublet, all embroidered -with rich pearles, and a -mighty rich chaine of great pearles -about his neck. The old servants have told -me that the pearles were neer as big as the -painted ones. He had a most remarkable -aspect, an exceedingly high forehead, long-faced, -and sourlie-bidded, a kind of pigge-eie.... He -spake broad Devonshire to his -dye-ing day. His voice was small, as likewise -were my schoolfellowes, his gr. nephews.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Publications of<br /> -the Prince Society.</i><br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“In all the pictures we have of him, there -is almost nothing to suggest the typical -Englishman. Burly and robust. -About six feet in height, he is -rather thin than corpulent, and in the vivacity -of expression and the nervous cast of his -features he resembles rather the modern -New-Englander than the old-time Englishman. -He was nineteen years younger than -Elizabeth, and had, as Naunton describes him, -‘a good presence in a handsome and well-compacted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> -person.’ Fuller has already told -us that at the time of his entrance at the court -his clothes made a ‘considerable part of -his estate.’ He seems to have had an innate -love for the luxury and splendour of dress. -He lived at a period when gentlemen as -well as ladies indulged in all the glory of gay -colours. Edwards, describing some of the -more noted pictures of him, says: ‘In another -full-length, which long remained in the possession -of his descendants, he is apparelled in a -white satin pinked vest, close sleeved to the -wrists with a brown doublet finely flowered -and embroidered with pearls, and a sword, -also brown and similarly decorated. Over the -right hip is seen the jewelled pommel of his -dagger. He wears his hat, in which is a -black feather with a ruby and pearl drop. -His trunk hose and fringed garters appear to -be of white satin. His buff-coloured shoes -are tied with white ribbons.’”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">CHARLES READE<br /> - -<small>1814-1884</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Coleman’s<br /> -<i>Personal Reminiscences</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“On</span> arriving at Bolton Row I was shown into -a large room littered over with books, MSS. -agenda, newspapers of every description -from the <i>Times</i> and the -<i>New York Herald</i> down to the -<i>Police News</i>. Before me stood a stately and -imposing man of fifty or fifty-one, over six -feet high, a massive chest, herculean limbs, a -bearded and leonine face, giving traces of a -manly beauty which ripened into majesty as -he grew older. Large brown eyes which -could at times become exceedingly fierce, a -fine head, quite bald on the top but covered -at the sides with soft brown hair, a head -strangely disproportioned to the bulk of the -body; in fact I could never understand how -so large a brain could be confined in so small a -skull. On the desk before him lay a huge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> -sheet of drab paper on which he had been -writing—it was about the size of two sheets -of ordinary foolscap; in his hand one of -Gillott’s double-barrelled pens. (Before I left -the room he told me he sent Gillott his books, -and Gillott sent him his pens.)</p> - -<p>“His voice, though very pleasant, was very -penetrating. He was rather deaf, but I don’t -think quite so deaf as he pretended to be. -This deafness gave him an advantage in -conversation; it afforded him time to take -stock of the situation, and either to seek refuge -in silence or to request his interlocutor to -propound his proposal afresh. At first he -was very cold, but at last, carried away by the -ardour of my admiration for his works, he -thawed, and in half an hour he was eager, -excited, delighted and delightful.”—1856.</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Contemporary<br /> -Review</i>,<br /> -1884.</div> - - -<p>“The man in truth justified Lavater, for -his physiognomy was noble, and -his body the perfection of symmetry -and grace. Nature gave -him a forehead as high as Shakespeare’s, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> -broader; the mild, pensive ox-eye so dear to -the old Greek æsthetes; a marble skin, a -mouth that was sarcasm itself. His personal -attractiveness was phenomenal. In any roomful -of people, however illustrious, he became -involuntarily—for he was as little self-asserting -off his paper as he was dogmatic on it—the -centre. Living immersed in Bohemianism, -and in the society of a large-hearted, yet not -very cultured woman, he never parted company -with his Ipsden breeding, and his natural -bearing was that of one born to command.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Eclectic<br /> -Magazine</i>, 1880.</div> - - -<p>“In personal appearance Mr. Reade is -tall, erect, of a commanding presence, with -a full, expressive brown eye and -a noble brow. His manner is -singularly dignified without being arrogant, -and in society he sustains an enviable reputation -as a conversationalist.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">SAMUEL RICHARDSON<br /> - -<small>1689-1761</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Barbauld’s<br /> -<i>Life of<br /> -Richardson</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Richardson</span> was, in person, below the -middle stature, and inclined to corpulency; -of a round, rather than oval face, -with a fair, ruddy complexion. -His features, says one who speaks -from recollection, bore the stamp of good -nature, and were characteristic of his placid -and amiable disposition. He was slow in -speech, and, to strangers at least, spoke with -reserve and deliberation; but in his manners -was affable, courteous, and engaging, and -when surrounded with the social circle he loved -to draw around him, his eye sparkled with -pleasure, and often expressed that particular -spirit of archness which we see in some of -his characters, and which gave, at times, a -vivacity to his conversation not expected from -his general taciturnity and quiet manners.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Richardson’s<br /> -<i>Correspondence</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>“Short, rather plump, about five feet five -inches, fair wig, one hand generally in his -bosom, the other a cane in it, -which he leans upon under the -skirts of his coat, that it may -imperceptibly serve him as a support when -attacked by sudden tremors or dizziness; of -a light brown complexion; teeth not yet -failing him. Looking directly foreright as -passengers would imagine, but observing all -that stirs on either hand of him, without -moving his short neck; a regular even pace, -stealing away ground rather than seeming to -rid it; a gray eye, too often overclouded by -mistiness from the head, by chance lively, -very lively, if he sees any he loves; if he -approaches a lady, his eye is never fixed first -on her face, but on her feet, and rears it up -by degrees, seeming to set her down as so -and so.”—1749.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Stephen’s<br /> -<i>Richardson</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“He looks like a plump white mouse in a -wig, with an air at once vivacious and timid, -a quick excitable nature, taking refuge in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> -outside of a smug, portly tradesman. Two -coloured engravings in Mrs. Barbauld’s -volumes give us Richardson -amidst his surroundings.... -One introduces us to Richardson at home. -Half a dozen ladies and gentlemen are sitting -by the open window in his bare parlour looking -out into the garden. There is only one -spindle-legged table, and a set of uncompromising -wooden chairs, just enough to -accommodate the party.... Miss Highmore, -whose hoop can scarcely be squeezed into her -straight-backed chair, is quietly sketching the -memorable scene. We are truly grateful to -her, for there sits the little idol of the party -in his usual morning dress, a nondescript -brown dressing-gown with a cap on his head -of the same materials. His plump little frame -fills the chair, and he is apparently raising one -foot for an emphatic stamp, as he reads a -passage of <i>Sir Charles Grandison</i>. We can -see that as he concludes he will be applauded -with deferential gasps of heartfelt admiration.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">SAMUEL ROGERS<br /> - -<small>1763-1855</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">S. C Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“His</span> countenance was the theme of continual -jokes. It was ‘ugly,’ if not repulsive. The -expression was in no way, nor -under any circumstances, good; -he had a drooping eye and a thick -underlip; his forehead was broad, his head -large—out of proportion indeed to his form; -but it was without the organs of benevolence -and veneration, although preponderating in that -of ideality. His features were ‘cadaverous.’ -Lord Dudley once asked him why, now that -he could afford it, he did not set up his -hearse; and it is said that Sydney Smith -gave him mortal offence by recommending -him, ‘when he sat for his portrait, to be drawn -saying his prayers, with his face hidden by -his hands.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Jerdan’s <i>Men I<br /> -have known</i>.</div> - -<p>“His personal appearance was extraordinary,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> -or rather his countenance was -unique. His skull and facial expression bore -so striking a likeness to the -skeleton pictures which we sometimes -see of Death, that the facetious Sydney -Smith (at one of the dressed evening -parties ...) entitled him the ‘Death -dandy.’ And it was told (probably with -truth), that the same satirical wag inscribed -upon the capital portrait in his breakfast-room, -‘Painted in his lifetime.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Mackay’s<br /> -<i>Forty Years’<br /> -Recollections</i>.</div> - -<p>“My first look at the poet, then in his -seventy-eighth year, was an agreeable -surprise, and a protest in my mind -against the malignant injustice -which had been done him. As a -young man he might have been uncomely, if -not as ugly as his revilers had painted him, -but as an old man there was an intellectual -charm in his countenance, and a fascination -in his manner which more than atoned for -any deficiency of personal beauty.”—1840.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI<br /> - -<small>1828-1882</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">William Sharp’s<br /> -<i>Dante Gabriel<br /> -Rossetti</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“According</span> to a sketch by Mr. Eyre Crowe, -dated about this time, Rossetti must have -had anything but a robust appearance, -being very thin and even -somewhat haggard in expression. -He went about in a long swallow-tailed -coat of what was even in 1848 an antique -pattern. That his appearance in his twentieth -and some subsequent years was that of an -ascetic I have been told by several, including -himself, and in addition to such pen-and-ink -sketches as the above, and of himself sitting -to Miss Siddall (his future wife) for his -portrait, there are the perhaps more reliable -portraitures in Mr. Millais’s <i>Isabella</i> (painted -in 1849), and Mr. Deverell’s <i>Viola</i>. On the -other hand, a beautifully-executed pencil head -of himself in boyhood shows him much removed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> -from the ascetic type of later years, -not unlike and strongly suggestive of a young -Keats or Chatterton; while in maturer age -he carefully drew his portrait from his -mirrored image, the result being a highly-finished -pen-and-ink likeness. While -speaking of portraits, I may state that -Rossetti was twice photographed, once in -Newcastle (which is the one publicly known, -and upon which all other illustrations have -been based), and once standing arm-in-arm -with Mr. Ruskin, the latter being the best -likeness of the poet-artist as he was a quarter -of a century ago. There is also an etching -by Mr. Menpes, which, however, is only -founded on the well-known photograph; -and, finally, there is a portrait taken shortly -after death by Mr. Frederick Shields.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Hall Caine’s<br /> -<i>Recollections of<br /> -Rossetti</i>.</div> - -<p>“Very soon Rossetti came to me through -the doorway in front, which -proved to be the entrance to his -studio. Holding forth both hands -and crying, ‘Hulloa!’ he gave me that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> -cheery hearty greeting which I came to -recognise as his alone, perhaps, in warmth -and unfailing geniality among all the men of -our circle. It was Italian in its spontaneity, -and yet it was English in its manly reserve, -and I remember with much tenderness of -feeling that never to the last (not even when -sickness saddened him, or after an absence -of a few days or even hours), did it fail him -when meeting with those friends to whom to -the last he was really attached. Leading the -way to the studio, he introduced me to his -brother, who was there upon one of the -evening visits, which at intervals of a week -he was at that time making with unfailing -regularity. I should have described Rossetti, -at this time, as a man who looked quite ten -years older than his actual age, which was -fifty-two, of full middle height and inclining -to corpulence, with a round face that ought, -one thought, to be ruddy but was pale, large -gray eyes with a steady introspecting look, -surmounted by broad protrusive brows and a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> -clearly-pencilled ridge over the nose, which -was well cut and had large breathing nostrils. -The mouth and chin were hidden beneath -a heavy moustache and abundant beard, -which grew up to the ears, and had been of -a mixed black-brown and auburn, and were -now streaked with gray. The forehead was -large, round, without protuberances, and very -gently receding to where thin black curls, -that had once been redundant, began to -tumble down to the ears. The entire configuration -of the head and face seemed to me -singularly noble, and from the eyes upwards -full of beauty. He wore a pair of spectacles, -and, in reading, a second pair over the first: -but these took little from the sense of power -conveyed by those steady eyes, and that -‘bar of Michael Angelo.’ His dress was not -conspicuous, being however rather negligent -than otherwise, and noticeable, if at all, only -for a straight sack-coat buttoned at the -throat, descending at least to the knees, and -having large pockets cut into it perpendicularly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> -at the sides. This garment was, I -afterwards found, one of the articles of -various kinds made to the author’s own -design. When he spoke, even in exchanging -the preliminary courtesies of an opening -conversation, I thought his voice the richest -I had ever known any one to possess. It -was a full deep baritone, capable of easy -modulation, and with undertones of infinite -softness and sweetness, yet, as I afterwards -found, with almost illimitable compass, and -with every gradation of tone at command, -for the recitation or reading of poetry.”—1880.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">William Sharp’s<br /> -<i>Dante Gabriel<br /> -Rossetti</i></div> - -<p>“As to the personality of Dante Gabriel -Rossetti much has been written since his -death, and it is now widely known -that he was a man who exercised -an almost irresistible charm over -most with whom he was brought in contact. -His manner could be peculiarly -winning, especially with those much younger -than himself, and his voice was alike notable -for its sonorous beauty and for a magnetic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> -quality that made the ear alert, whether the -speaker was engaged in conversation, recitation, -or reading. I have heard him read, -some of them over and over again, all the -poems in the <i>Ballads and Sonnets</i>; and -especially in such productions as <i>The Cloud -Confines</i> was his voice as stirring as a -trumpet tone; but where he excelled was in -some of the pathetic portions of the <i>Vita -Nuova</i>, or the terrible and sonorous passages -of <i>L’Inferno</i>, when the music of the Italian -language found full expression indeed. -His conversational powers I am unable -adequately to describe, for during the four -or five years of my intimacy with him he -suffered too much from ill-health to be a -consistently brilliant talker, but again and -again I have seen instances of those marvellous -gifts that made him at one time a -Sydney Smith in wit, and a Coleridge in -eloquence. In appearance he was, if anything, -rather over middle height, and, especially -latterly, somewhat stout; his forehead was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> -of splendid proportions, recalling instantaneously -to most strangers the Stratford bust of -Shakespeare; and his gray blue eyes were -clear and piercing, and characterised by that -rapid penetrative gaze so noticeable in -Emerson. He seemed always to me an -unmistakable Englishman, yet the Italian -element was frequently recognisable. As far -as his own opinion is concerned, he was -wholly English.”—1878.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">RICHARD SAVAGE<br /> - -<small>1697-1743</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Dublin University,<br /> -Magazine</i>, 1858.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“His</span> companion, Who is he? He looks a -little older, and is a great deal slenderer, and -very much better dressed; that -is, his clothes are well made, but -alas! they are also well worn. -He has an air of faded fashion about him. -There is decision in every line of the lank,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> -and long, and melancholy visage; it is a -veritable Quixotic face. Meagre and proud, -and high and pale. An exceeding ‘woeful -countenance,’ which sadness and scorn alternately -cloud and corrugate. It is mixed up -with extreme diversities. The brow and -eye are intellectual and bright, while the -lower features are sensual and coarse: -humour and passion both lurk in the mouth, -yet few smiles expand those lips from which -laughter seems altogether banished, while -the voice is sweet, soft, and lute-like; the -pace is slow, and the gait has a certain pretension -to importance, which ill harmonises -with the rest of his appearance. This person -is Richard Savage, a man whose rare talents -might have brought him poetic immortality, -and a lofty pedestal in the muse’s temple, had -not his coarser vices, together with his pride -and his ingratitude, dragged him down to the -lowest moral depth, and buried the many -bright things he had in brain and bosom, -head and heart, in the same mud-heap.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Johnson’s <i>Life<br /> -of Savage</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>“He was of a middle stature, of a thin habit -of body, a long visage, coarse features, and -melancholy aspect; of a grave -and manly deportment, a solemn -dignity of mien, but which, upon a nearer -acquaintance, softened into an engaging -easiness of manners. His walk was slow, -and his voice tremulous and mournful. He -was easily excited to smiles, but very seldom -provoked to laughter.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SIR WALTER SCOTT<br /> - -<small>1771-1832</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Lockhart’s <i>Life<br /> -of Scott</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“His</span> personal appearance at this time was -not unengaging. A lady of high rank, who -remembers him in the Old -Assembly Rooms, says, ‘Young -Walter Scott was a comely creature.’ He -had outgrown the sallowness of early ill-health, -and had a fresh, brilliant complexion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> -His eyes were clear, open, and well set, with -a changeful radiance, to which teeth of the -most perfect regularity and whiteness lent -their assistance, while the noble expanse and -elevation of the brow gave to the whole -aspect a dignity far above the charm of mere -features. His smile was always delightful; -and I can easily fancy the peculiar intermixture -of tenderness and gravity, with playful -innocent hilarity and humour in the expression, -as being well calculated to fix a fair -lady’s eye. His figure, excepting the blemish -in one limb, must in those days have been -eminently handsome; tall, much above the -usual standard, it was cast in the very mould -of a young Hercules; the head set on with -singular grace, the throat and chest after the -truest model of the antique, the hands delicately -finished; the whole outline that of extraordinary -vigour, without as yet a touch of -clumsiness. When he had acquired a little -facility of manner, his conversation must have -been such as could have dispensed with any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> -exterior advantages, and certainly brought -swift forgiveness for the one unkindness of -nature. I have heard him, in talking of this -part of his life, say, with an arch simplicity of -look and tone which those who were familiar -with him can fill in for themselves—‘It was -a proud night with me when I first found that -a pretty young woman could think it worth -her while to sit and talk with me, hour after -hour, in a corner of the ball-room, while all -the world were capering in our view.’”—1790.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Froude’s <i>Life<br /> -of Carlyle</i>.</div> - - -<p>“I never spoke with Scott.... Have a -hundred times seen him, from of old, writing -in the Courts, or hobbling with -stout speed along the streets of -Edinburgh; a large man, pale, shaggy face, -fine, deep-browed gray eyes, an expression -of strong homely intelligence, of humour -and good-humour, and, perhaps (in later -years amongst the wrinkles), of sadness or -weariness.... He has played his part, -and left <i>none like</i> or second to him. -<i>Plaudite!</i>”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Sir John Bowring’s<br /> -<i>Autobiographical<br /> -Recollections</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>“More eloquent men I have known, I think, -but I never knew any one so attractive. The -variety of his conversation is -stupendous, while it overflows -with the most agreeable anecdotes, -and almost every person who has -figured in modern times has in some way or -other been connected with him. His manner -of talking is without the smallest pretence, -and is gentle and humorous. His eye has -a constant play upon it, and around it. His -dress is that of a substantial farmer,—a short -green coat with steel buttons, striped waistcoat -and pantaloons, and he put on light -gaiters when we sallied forth.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE<br /> - -<small>1564-1616</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">E. T. Craig’s<br /> -<i>Portraits of<br /> -Shakespeare</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> portrait of Martin Droeshout” (<i>published -with the first folio edition of Shakespeare’s</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> -<i>works in 1623</i>) “has a greater -claim to attention, as it was engraved by -a well-known artist at the time -when published by Shakespeare’s -contemporaries, Heminge and -Condell, and has the additional testimony -of the poet’s friend, Ben Jonson, in its -favour, in the following lines inscribed -opposite to the engraving of the portrait:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="verse">‘This figure, that thou here seest put,</div> -<div class="verse">It was for gentle Shakespeare cut;</div> -<div class="verse">Wherein the graver had a strife</div> -<div class="verse">With Nature, to out-doo the life.</div> -<div class="verse">O, could he but have drawne his wit</div> -<div class="verse">As well in brasse as he hath hit</div> -<div class="verse">His face, the print would then surpasse</div> -<div class="verse">All that was ever writ in brasse;</div> -<div class="verse">But since he cannot, reader, looke</div> -<div class="verse">Not on his picture, but his booke.’</div> -</div></div> - -<p>These lines would indicate that the portrait -of the face was represented with some degree -of truth. It may be observed here that until -within the last few years artists were less -exact and minute in the delineation of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> -head than the face; and the head appears -unusually high for its breadth, and impresses -you with the semblance of a form more like -Scott than Byron, of Canova than Chantrey.</p> - -<p>“The features of Droeshout’s engraving -bear a closer resemblance to the plaster cast -than to the Stratford bust. The nose has the -same flowing outline, well defined, prominent, -yet finely chiselled, and the nostrils rather -large. There is the same long upper lip, and -a general correspondence with the mouth of -the cast. The eye is large and round, and -in life would be mild and lustrous. The hair -is thin and not curled, and the head is high -but comparatively narrow. There would be -moderate secretiveness, less destructiveness, -small constructiveness, and little acquisitiveness. -There is an ample endowment of the -higher sentiments. The imaginative and -imitative faculties are represented as very -large. Ideality, wonder, wit, imitation, -benevolence, and veneration, comparison -and causality, are all very large. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> -perceptive region is scarcely sufficiently -indicated for the powers of mind possessed -by Shakespeare, in his vast and ready -command of view over the range of natural -objects so evident in his works. This may -be the fault of the engraver. It is the -opposite in this respect to the cast from the -face. There is one feature in the portrait -which harmonises with Milton’s praise and -Jonson’s worship and Spenser’s admiration,—his -large benevolence, veneration and -ideality, and his small destructiveness and -acquisitiveness, leading to the control over -his feelings and generous sympathy with -others, manifested by his quiet manner and -gentle nature. Men of strong passions like -Jonson and Byron have very different heads -to this portrait, which presents a great contrast -both to the bust and the Chandos -portrait” (<i>said to be painted by Burbage, a -player contemporary with Shakespeare</i>). “The -physical proportions of the Droeshout figure -harmonise better with a fine temperament<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> -and an intellectual head than the Stratford -bust with Shakespeare’s mental activity.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Halliwell-Phillipps’s<br /> -<i>Outlines<br /> -of the Life<br /> -of Shakespeare</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p>“The exact time at which the monument -was erected in the church” (<i>Stratford-on-Avon</i>) -“is unknown, but it is -alluded to by Leonard Digges as -being there in the year 1623. -The bust must, therefore, have been submitted -to the approval of the Halls, who could hardly -have been satisfied with a mere fanciful image. -There is, however, no doubt that it was an -authentic representation of the great dramatist, -but it has unfortunately been so tampered -with in modern times that much of the -absorbing interest with which it would otherwise -have been surrounded has evaporated. -It was originally painted in imitation of life, -the face and hands of the usual flesh colour, -the eyes a light hazel, and the hair and beard -auburn. The realisation of the costume was -similarly attempted by the use of scarlet for -the doublet, black for the loose gown, and -white for the collar and wristbands.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">E. T. Craig’s<br /> -<i>Portraits of<br /> -Shakespeare</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>“It only remains to examine the cast from -the face of Shakespeare. The documentary -statements published by Mr. Friswell -tend to establish a claim to -attention. It was left in the -possession of Professor Owen by Dr. Becher, -the enterprising botanist, who fell a victim to -his zeal in the unfortunate Australian expedition -under Burke. The cast, it appears, -originally belonged to a German nobleman at -the Court of James I., whose descendants -kept it as an heirloom till the last of the race -died, when his effects were sold. Mr. Friswell -observes that ‘the cast bears some resemblance -to the more refined portraits of the -poet. It is not unlike the ideal head of -Roubillac, and bears a very great resemblance -to a fine portrait of the poet in the possession -of Mr. Challis.’ It has some of the characteristics -of Jansen’s portrait. The mask has a -mournful aspect, and sensitive persons are -affected when they look at it.... There are -indications visible ... of wrinkles and ‘crow’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> -feet’ at the corners of the eyes. It is utterly -destitute of the jovial physiognomy of the -Stratford bust and portrait. It is certainly -the impress from one who was gifted with -great sensibility, great range of perceptive -power, a ready memory, great facility of -expression, varied power of enjoyment, and -great depth of feeling. The year 1616, when -Shakespeare died, is recorded on the back of -the cast. Hairs of the moustache, eyelashes, -and beard still adhere to the plaster, of a -reddish brown or auburn colour, corresponding -with several portraits and the Stratford -bust.... The cast presents to view finely -formed features, strongly marked, yet regular. -The forehead is well developed in the region -of the perceptive powers; but scarcely so -high as the Droeshout, and the coronal -region is much lower than in that of the -Felton head. The sides of the head are well -developed, and there is a large mass of brain -in the front. The moustache is divided, and -falls over the corners of the mouth, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> -beard, or imperial, is a full tuft on the chin, -which, as well as the moustache, appears to -be marked with a tool since taken. The face -is a sharp oval, that of the bust is a blunt or -round one. The chin is rather narrow and -pointed, yet firm; that of the bust well -rounded. The cheeks are thin and fallen; -in those of the bust full, fat, and coarse, as if -‘good digestion waited on appetite,’ without -thought, fancy, or feeling, troubling either. -The mask has a moderate-sized upper lip, -the bust a very large one, although Sir -Walter Scott lost his wager in asserting that -it was longer than his own. The lips of the -cast are thin and well marked; those of the -bust present a rude opening for the mouth. -The nostrils are drawn up, and this feature is -exaggerated in the bust. The nose of the -cast is large, finely marked, aquiline, and -delicately formed. That of the bust is short, -mean, straight, and small. In their physiognomy -and phrenology they are utterly -different. The cast indicates the man of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> -thought, emotion, and suffering; the bust, of -ease, enjoyment, and self-satisfaction. If the -bust is to represent the living image of the -dead poet, the answer is, death does not -immediately alter the language once written -on the ivory gate at the temple of thought. -It has been said by John Bell that the Stratford -bust was cut from a mask, but by a -clumsy sculptor, who modified his work. A -monument, erected as a memorial of Shakespeare, -should therefore avoid the evident -discrepancies that already exist, and perpetrate -no repetition of forms inconsistent with -nature, truth, and beauty.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT SHELLEY<br /> - -<small>1798-1851</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Anecdote Biography<br /> -of P.<br /> -B. Shelley.</i></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“... At</span> the time I am speaking of, Mrs. -Shelley was twenty-four. Such a rare pedigree -of genius was enough to interest me in her,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> -irrespective of her own merits as an authoress. -The most striking feature in her face was -her calm gray eyes; she was -rather under the English standard -of woman’s height, very fair and -light-haired, witty, social, and animated in -the society of friends, though mournful in -solitude.”—1821.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Cowden<br /> -Clarkes’ <i>Recollections<br /> -of Writers</i>.</div> - -<p>“Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin Shelley, -with her well-shaped, golden-haired head, -almost always a little bent and -drooping; her marble-white -shoulders and arms statuesquely -visible in the perfectly plain black velvet -dress, which the customs of that time allowed -to be cut low, and which her own taste -adopted; ... her thoughtful, earnest eyes; -her short upper lip and intellectually curved -mouth, with a certain close compressed and -decisive expression while she listened, and a -relaxation into fuller redness and mobility -when speaking; her exquisitely formed, -white, dimpled, small hands, with rosy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> -palms, and plumply commencing fingers, -that tapered into tips as slender and delicate -as those in a Vandyck portrait,—all remain -palpably present to memory.”—About 1824.</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Cornhill</i>,<br /> -1875.</div> - -<p>“Shelley’s second love, who was five -years his junior, is described as ‘rather -short, remarkably fair, and light-haired -with brownish gray eyes, -a great forehead, striking features, and a -noticeable air of sedateness.’ One writer has -compared her with the classic bust of Clytie.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY<br /> - -<small>1792-1822</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Stoddard’s<br /> -<i>Anecdote Biography<br /> -of Percy<br /> -Bysshe Shelley</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“As</span> I felt in truth but a slight interest in -the subject of his conversation, I -had leisure to examine, and, I -may add, admire the appearance of -my very extraordinary guest. It was a sum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> -of many contradictions. His figure was slight -and fragile, and yet his bones and joints were -large and strong. He was tall, but he -stooped so much that he seemed of a low -stature. His clothes were expensive, and -made according to the most approved mode -of the day; but they were tumbled, rumpled, -unbrushed. His gestures were abrupt and -sometimes violent, occasionally even awkward. -His complexion was delicate and -almost feminine, of the purest red and white; -yet he was tanned and freckled by exposure -to the sun, having passed the autumn, as he -said, in shooting. His features, his whole -face, and particularly his head, were, in fact, -unusually small; yet the last <i>appeared</i> of a -remarkable bulk, for his hair was long and -bushy, and in fits of absence, and in the -agonies (if I may use the word) of anxious -thought, he often rubbed it fiercely with -his hands, or passed his fingers quickly -through his locks unconsciously, so that it -was singularly wild and rough. In times<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> -when it was the mode to imitate stage-coachmen -as closely as possible in costume, and -when the hair was invariably cropped, like -that of our soldiers, this eccentricity was -very striking. His features were not symmetrical -(the mouth, perhaps, excepted), yet -was the effect of the whole extremely powerful. -They breathed an animation, a fire, an -enthusiasm, a vivid and preternatural intelligence, -that I never met with in any other -countenance.”—1810.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Cowden<br /> -Clarke’s <i>Recollections<br /> -of Writers</i>.</div> - - -<p>“Shelley’s figure was a little above the -middle height, slender, and of delicate construction, -which appeared the -rather from a lounging or waving -manner in his gait, as though -his frame was compounded barely of muscle -and tendon; and that the power of walking was -an achievement with him and not a natural -habit. Yet I should suppose that he was not -a valetudinarian, although that has been said -of him on account of his spare and vegetable -diet; for I have the remembrance of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> -scampering and bounding over the gorse-bushes -on Hampstead Heath late one night—now -close upon us, and now shouting from -the height like a wild school-boy. He was -both an active and an enduring walker,—feats -which do not accompany an ailing and -feeble constitution. His face was round, flat, -pale, with small features; mouth beautifully -shaped; hair bright brown and wavy; and -such a pair of eyes as are rarely in the human -or any other head,—intensely blue, with a -gentle and lambent expression, yet wonderfully -alert and engrossing; nothing appeared -to escape his knowledge.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Leigh Hunt’s<br /> -<i>Autobiography</i>.</div> - -<p>“Shelley, when he died, was in his -thirtieth year. His figure was tall and -slight, and his constitution consumptive. -He was subject to -violent spasmodic pains, which would sometimes -force him to lie on the ground until -they were over; but he had always a kind -word to give to those about him when his -pangs allowed him to speak. In this organisation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> -as well as in some other respects, -he resembled the German poet Schiller. -Though well-turned, his shoulders were -bent a little, owing to premature thought -and trouble. The same causes had touched -his hair with gray; and though his habits of -temperance and exercise gave him a remarkable -degree of strength, it is not supposed -that he could have lived many years. He -used to say that he had lived three times as -long as the calendar gave out; which he -would prove, between jest and earnest, by -some remarks on Time,</p> - - -<p class="center">‘That would have puzzled that stout Stagyrite.’</p> - -<p>Like the Stagyrites, his voice was high and -weak. His eyes were large and animated, -with a dash of wildness in them; his face -small, but well shaped, particularly the mouth -and chin, the turn of which was very sensitive -and graceful. His complexion was naturally -fair and delicate, with a colour in the cheeks. -He had brown hair, which, though tinged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> -with gray, surmounted his face well, being -in considerable quantity, and tending to a -curl. His side face, upon the whole, was -deficient in strength, and his features would -not have told well in a bust; but when -fronting and looking at you attentively, his -aspect had a certain seraphical character that -would have suited a portrait of John the -Baptist, or the angel whom Milton describes -as holding a reed ‘tipt with fire.’”—1822.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN<br /> - -<small>1751-1816</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Moore’s <i>Life<br /> -of Sheridan</i>.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“It</span> has been seen, by a letter of his sister -already given, that, when young, he was -generally accounted handsome; -but in later years his eyes were -the only testimonials of beauty which remained -to him. It was, indeed, in the upper -part of his face that the spirit of the man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> -chiefly reigned; the dominion of the world -and the senses being rather strongly marked -out in the lower. In his person, he was -above the middle size, and his general make -was, as I have already said, robust and well-proportioned. -It is remarkable that his -arms, though of powerful strength, were thin, -and appeared by no means muscular. His -hands were small and delicate; and the -following couplet, written on the cast of one -of them, very livelily enumerates both its -physical and moral qualities:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="verse">‘Good at a fight, better at a Play,</div> -<div class="verse">God-like in giving, but—the Devil to pay!’”</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="sidenote">Jerdan’s<br /> -<i>Men I have<br /> -known</i>.</div> - - -<p>“I have seen his large beautiful eyes -speak sadly, even while his brilliant tongue was -rehearsing the gayest sentiments and -the finest wit.... What a portrait -to pronounce of intellect is that by -Sir Joshua! The head so fine, the expression -so brilliant, and the lower part of the -countenance, in the prime of life, without the -sensuous encroachment of luxurious indulgence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> -upon later years. And how light-hearted -the look.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Gantter’s<br /> -<i>Standard Poets of<br /> -Great Britain</i>.</div> - -<p>“Sheridan was above the middle size, and -of a make robust and well-proportioned. In -his youth, his family said, he had -been handsome; but in his latter -years he had nothing left to show -for it but his eyes. ‘It was, indeed, in the -upper part of his face,’ says Mr. Moore, -‘that the spirit of the man chiefly reigned; -the dominion of the world and the senses -being rather strongly marked out in the lower.’”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SIR PHILIP SIDNEY<br /> - -<small>1554-1587-8</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Aubrey’s <i>Lives<br /> -of Eminent<br /> -Persons</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“He</span> was not only an excellent witt, but -extremely beautiful; he much resembled -his sister but his haire -was not red, but a little inclining; -viz., a darke amber colour. If I were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> -to find a fault in it, methinkes ’tis not masculine -enough; yett he is a person of great -courage.... My great-uncle Mr. T. -Browne, remembered him, and sayd that he -was wont to take his table-booke out of his -pocket and write downe his notions as they -came into his head, when he was writing his -<i>Arcadia</i> (which was never finished by him) -as he was hunting on our pleasant plaines.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">The Worthie Sir<br /> -Phillip Sidney,<br /> -Knight, his<br /> -Epitaph.</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="verse">“A man made out of goodliest mould</div> -<div class="indent1">As shape in ware were wrought,</div> -<div class="verse">Or Picture stoode in stampe of gold</div> -<div class="indent1">To please each gazer’s thought....</div> -<div class="verse">... His silent lookes sayd wisdome great</div> -<div class="indent1">Did lodge in loftie brow:</div> -<div class="verse">His patient heart (in chollers heate)</div> -<div class="indent1">Supprest all passion’s throw.</div> -<div class="verse">... A portly presence passing fine</div> -<div class="indent1">With beautie furnisht well,</div> -<div class="verse">Where vertues buds and grace divine</div> -<div class="indent1">And daintie gifts did dwell.”</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Edinburgh<br /> -Review</i>, 1876.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“He was tall, shapely, and muscular, with -large blue-gray eyes, a long aquiline -nose, hair of a dark auburn -tint, and full sensitive lips, the slightly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> -pensive expression of which was relieved by -the decision of the jaw and chin.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HORACE SMITH<br /> - -<small>1779-1849</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Leigh Hunt’s<br /> -<i>Autobiography</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Horace</span> was delicious.... A finer nature -than Horace Smith’s, except in the single -instance of Shelley, I never met -with in man; nor even in that -instance, all circumstances considered, have -I a right to say that those who knew him as -intimately as I did the other, would not have -had the same reasons to love him.... The -personal appearance of Horace Smith, like -that of most of the individuals I have met -with, was highly indicative of his character. -His figure was good and manly, inclining to -the robust; and his countenance extremely -frank and cordial; sweet without weakness. -I have been told he was irascible. If so, it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> -must have been no common offence that -could have irritated him. He had not a jot -of it in his appearance.”—1809.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SYDNEY SMITH<br /> - -<small>1771-1845</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Duycknick’s<br /> -<i>Memoir of<br /> -Sydney Smith</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“In</span> person, Sydney Smith, as he has been -described to us by those who knew him, was -of the medium height; plethoric -in habit though of great activity, -of a dense brown complexion, a -dark expressive eye, an open countenance, -indicative of shrewdness, humour, and benevolence. -There is a look too, in the English -engraved portraits, of a thoughtful seriousness. -His ‘sense, wit, and clumsiness,’ said -a college companion, gave ‘the idea of an -Athenian carter.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Reid’s <i>Life and<br /> -Times of Sydney<br /> -Smith</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p>“Strangers entering St. Paul’s ... would -have witnessed a burly but active-looking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> -man of sixty-three, of medium height, with -a dark complexion and iron-gray hair, ascend -the pulpit. When he stood up -to preach, the shapely and -well-carried head, the fine eyes, -with their quick and penetrating glance, the -expression of thorough benevolence which lit -up the sensitive yet boldly chiselled features -of the strong and intellectual face, would -all contribute to heighten favourably the first -general impression concerning a man whose -every movement suggested intelligence, determination, -and kindliness.”—1834.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Reid’s <i>Life and<br /> -Times of Sydney<br /> -Smith</i>.</div> - - -<p>“Very distinctly do I recall the portly -figure of Sydney Smith seated in his large -yellow chariot—then a fashionable -style of carriage—the full-sized -head, the face indicative, as it -now presents itself to my mind’s eye, of -mental power, of kindliness, and of the spirit -of humour which possessed him.... This -brilliant man was not brilliant only; there -was in his character, as I conceive, an unusually<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> -substantial basis of sound common -sense.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">TOBIAS SMOLLETT<br /> - -<small>1721-1771</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Chalmers’s <i>Life<br /> -of Smollett</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> person of Smollett was stout and well-proportioned, -his countenance engaging, his -manner reserved, with a certain -air of dignity that seemed to -indicate that he was not unconscious of his -own powers.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Anderson’s <i>Poets<br /> -of Great Britain</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p>“In his person he was graceful and handsome, -and in his air and manner there was a -certain dignity which commanded -respect. He possessed a loftiness -and elevation of sentiment and character, -without pride or haughtiness, for to his equals -and inferiors he was ever polite, friendly and -generous.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Chambers’s<br /> -<i>Eminent<br /> -Scotsmen</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“Smollett, who thus died prematurely in -the fifty-first year of his age, and the bloom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> -of his mental faculties, was tall and handsome, -with a most prepossessing carriage -and address, and the marks and -manners of a gentleman.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">ROBERT SOUTHEY<br /> - -<small>1774-1843</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Froude’s <i>Carlyle</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“A man</span> towards well up in the fifties; hair -gray, not yet hoary, well setting off his fine -clear brown complexion, head -and face both smallish, as indeed the figure -was while seated; features finely cut; eyes, -brow, mouth, good in their kind—expressive -all, and even vehemently so, but betokening -rather keenness than depth either of intellect -or character; a serious, human, honest, but -sharp, almost fierce-looking thin man, with -very much of the militant in his aspect,—in -the eyes especially was visible a mixture of -sorrow and of anger, or of angry contempt,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> -as if his indignant fight with the world had not -yet ended in victory, but also never should in -defeat.”—1835.</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Southey’s Life and<br /> -Correspondence.</i></div> - -<p>“The personal appearance and demeanour -of Southey at this time (he was then aged sixty-two) -was striking and peculiar. -The only thing in art which -brings him exactly before me is the monument -by Lough, the sculptor. Like many -other young men of the time who had read -Byron with great admiration, I had imbibed -rather a prejudice against the Laureate. -This was weakened by his appearance, and -wholly removed by his frank conversation. -He was calm, mild, and gentlemanly; full of -quiet, subdued humour; the reverse of ascetic -in his manner, speech, or actions. His -bearing was rather that of a scholar than -that of a man much accustomed to mingle in -general society.... In any place Southey -would have been pointed at as ‘a noticeable -man.’ He was tall, slight, and well made. -His features were striking, and Byron truly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> -described him as ‘with a hook nose and a -hawk’s eye.’ Certainly his eyes were -peculiar,—at once keen and mild. The -brow was rather high than square, and the -lines well defined. His hair was tinged with -gray, but his head was as well covered with -it—wavy and flowing—as it could have -been in youth. He by no means looked his -age; simple habits, pure thoughts, the -quietude of a happy hearth, the friendship of -the wise and good, the self-consciousness of -acting for the best purposes, a separation from -the personal irritations which men of letters -are so often subjected to in the world; and -health, which to that time had been so -generally unbroken, had kept Southey from -many of the cares of life, and their usually -harrowing effect on mind and body. It is -one of my most pleasant recollections that I -enjoyed his friendship and regard.”—1836.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - - -<p>“His height was five feet eleven inches. -‘His forehead was very broad; his complexion -rather dark; the eyebrows large and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> -arched; the eye well shaped, and dark brown; -the mouth somewhat prominent, muscular, -and very variously expressive; -the chin small in proportion to -the upper features of the face.’ -So writes his son, who adds that ‘many -thought him a handsomer man in age than in -youth,’ when his hair had become white, -continuing abundant, and flowing in thick -curls over his brow. Byron, who saw him -but twice, once at Holland House, and once -at one of Rogers’ breakfasts, said, ‘To have -that man’s head and shoulders, I would -almost have written his sapphics.’ That was -in 1813, when Southey was in his prime.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">EDMUND SPENSER<br /> - -<small>1553-1599</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Grosart’s <i>Life<br /> -of Spenser</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“But</span> of Edmund Spenser we have inestimable -portraits. In the first rank must be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> -placed the miniature now in the inherited -possession of Lord Fitzhardinge. It was -a gift to the Lady Elizabeth -Carey (Althorp Spenser), heiress -of the Hunsdons, to whom it was left by -Queen Elizabeth. It thus came with an indisputable -lineage through the marriage of -a Berkeley to Lady Elizabeth Carey. It is -an exquisitely beautiful face. The brow is -ample, the lips thin but mobile, the eyes a -grayish-blue, the hair and beard a golden red -(as of ‘red monie’ of the ballads) or goldenly -chestnut, the nose with semi-transparent -nostril and keen, the chin firm-poised, the -expression refined and delicate. Altogether -just such ‘presentment,’ of the Poet of Beauty -<i>par excellence</i> as one would have imagined. -To be placed next is the older face of the -Dowager Countess of Chesterfield. It is -identically the same face. But there is more -roundness of chin, more fulness or ripening -of the lips (especially the under), more restfulness. -There is not the ‘fragile’ look of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> -Fitzhardinge miniature. Hair and eyes agree -with the miniature. The only other with -a pedigree or sufficiently authenticated,—not -mere ‘copies,’ such as those at Pembroke -College,—is the very remarkable one that -came down as a Devonshire heirloom to the -Rev. S. Baring Gould, M.A., with a companion -of Sir Walter Raleigh.</p> - -<p>“Both have been in the family beyond -record. This shows the poet in the full -strength of manhood. It is a kind of three-quarter -profile, and as one studies it, it seems -to vindicate itself as ‘our sage and serious -Spenser.’ Again, hair and eyes agree with -the others. The Spaniard’s haughty face, -for long engraved and re-engraved, ought -never to have been engraved as Spenser. -There is not a jot or tittle of evidence in its -favour. It is an absolutely un-English, and -palpably Spanish face, and an impossible -portrait of our Poet.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Payne Collier’s<br /> -<i>Life of Spenser</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“Several portraits of Spenser are in existence; -but it is difficult to settle the degree<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> -of authenticity belonging to them. The late -Mr. Rodd, of Newport Street, had a miniature -of the poet in his possession in -1845, and perhaps afterwards, -which corresponded pretty exactly with the -ordinary representations, but what became of -it is not known to us. The features were -sharp and delicately formed, the nose long, -and the mouth refined; but the lower part of -the face projected, and the high forehead -receded, while the eyes and eyebrows did not -very harmoniously range.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Aubrey’s <i>Lives of<br /> -Eminent Men</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p>“Mr. Beeston sayes he was a little man, -wore short haire, little band, and -little cuffs.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY<br /> - -<small>1815-1881</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Harper’s<br /> -Magazine</i>,<br /> -1881.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“He</span> was at that time (and indeed always -remained) very slight of his age, of rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> -florid complexion, and with a singularly -bright, quick, and yet often dreamy expression. -He wore his hat rather on -the back of his head, and walked -with queer little short shuffling paces, -rather on his heels, so that you could tell him -by his gait at any distance—a singular contrast -to the Doctor’s long shambling stride as they -walked along at the side of Mrs. Arnold’s -gray pony on half-holiday afternoons.”—1834.</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Macmillan</i>,<br /> -1881.</div> - -<p>“Il n’improvisait jamais; il lisait avec -gravité, avec une force réelle qui étonnait, -sortant d’un corps si fragile, mais -avec une sorte de monotonie. -L’action oratoire manquait de variété et -d’abandon; c’était toujours la même note. -Du reste, personne n’avait l’oreille moins -musicale que le doyen.... D’une complexion -délicate, de petite taille, son corps -semblait n’être qu’un prétexte pour être, et -pour retenir son esprit dans le monde visible.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Temple Bar</i>,<br /> -1881.</div> - - -<p>“Dean Stanley, like so many great men, -possessed some strongly-marked personal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> -characteristics. If he was superintendent in -some qualities there were some of which he -was almost altogether destitute. -He was utterly careless of personal -appearance, and of external circumstances. -Short and spare in figure, there was a beauty -and a dignity about him that made his presence -a perpetual pleasure. Those clear-cut features, -the beautiful forehead, and the silvery head of -hair, will remain photographed on the minds -of this generation. When in the performance -of any sacred or secular function, the more -crowded his auditory, the more he was at -ease. There must be many who can remember -him as he used to stand at the -lectern in the Abbey waiting to read the -lesson in one of those crowded services in the -nave, with the people clustered even round -his feet, and yet unconsciously, as if in his -own library, with the old familiar action, -passing his hand across his face and ruffling -up his head.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">SIR RICHARD STEELE<br /> - -<small>1671-1729</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Thackeray’s<br /> -<i>English<br /> -Humourists</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Dennis</span>, who ran a-muck at the literary -society of his day, falls foul of poor Steele, -and thus depicts him: ‘Sir John -Edgar, of the County of —— in -Ireland, is of a middle stature, broad -shoulders, thick legs, a shape like the picture -of somebody over a farmer’s chimney; a -short chin, a short nose, a short forehead, a -broad, flat face, and a dusky countenance. -Yet with such a face and such a shape, he -discovered at sixty that he took himself for -a beauty, and appeared to be more mortified -at being told that he was ugly, than he was -by any reflection made upon his honour or -understanding.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Dublin University<br /> -Magazine</i>, 1858.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“The interior of a coffee-house at Hyde -Park Corner. Here in a room small and -meanly furnished, sit two men who have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> -just arrived in a handsome carriage, which -is at this moment driving from the door. -One of these is Richard Savage; -the other, who is fully -twenty years his senior, is a <i>beau</i> and a -<i>militaire</i>, being a Captain in Lord Lucas’s -regiment of Fusileer Guards. With a somewhat -diminutive stature and a long dress -sword; he has laced ruffles in abundance on -his shirt sleeves and at his bosom, but not a -shadow on his smiling face; with an air at -that time styled ‘genteel,’ in these days called -<i>distingué</i>. Around this gentleman’s agreeable -face and person there is a brilliant atmosphere -of life and animation, for the three Celtic -characteristics are his—vivacity, volatility, -and versatility,—by turns the curse and -advantage, the obstacle and ornament of his -nation,—for he is an Irishman, and his name -is Sir Richard Steele.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Swift’s<br /> -<i>Works</i>.</div> - - -<p>“He has naturally a downcast foreboding -aspect, which they of the country hereabouts -call a hanging look, and an unseemly manner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> -of staring, with his mouth wide open, and -under-lip propending, especially when any -ways disturbed.... He takes a -great deal of pains to persuade his -neighbours that he has a very short face, and -a little flat nose like a diminutive wart in the -middle of his visage.... His eyes are large -and prominent, too big of all conscience for -the conceited narrowness of his phiz.... -His back, though not very broad, is well -turned, and will bear a great deal; I have -seen him myself, more than once, carry a -vast load of timber. His legs also are tolerably -substantial, and can stride very wide -upon occasion; but the best thing about him -is a handsome pair of heels, which he takes -especial pride to show, not only to his friends, -but even to the very worst of his enemies.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">LAURENCE STERNE<br /> - -<small>1713-1768</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Sir Walter Scott’s<br /> -<i>Memoir of<br /> -Sterne</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“We</span> are well acquainted with Sterne’s features -and personal appearance, to which he himself -frequently alludes. He was -tall and thin, with a hectic and -consumptive appearance. His -features, though capable of expressing with -peculiar effect the sentimental emotions by -which he was often affected, had also a -shrewd, humorous, and sarcastic expression, -proper to the wit and the satirist. His conversation -was as animated as witty, but Johnson -complained that it was marked by licence, -better suiting the company of the Lord of -Crazy Castle than of the great moralist.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Timbs’s<br /> -<i>Anecdote<br /> -Biography</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“In the same year (1761) that Reynolds -exhibited the large equestrian portrait of -Lord Ligonier, now in the National Gallery, -he also exhibited the half-length of Sterne,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> -seated, and leaning on his hand. This portrait -was painted for the Earl of Ossary, and -afterwards came into the possession -of Lord Holland, on whose death -in 1840, it was purchased for -500 guineas by the Marquis of Lansdowne. -‘This,’ says Mrs. Jameson, ‘is the most -astonishing head for truth of character I -ever beheld; I do not except Titian; the -character, to be sure, is different: the subtle -evanescent expression of satire round the -lips, the shrewd significance in the eye, the -earnest contemplative attitude,—all convey -the strongest impression of the man, of his -peculiar genius, and peculiar humour.’”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Memoir<br /> -of Sterne.</i><br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“Speaking of Sterne’s physiognomy, -Lavater says, ‘In this face you discover -the arch, satirical Sterne, the shrewd -and exquisite observer, more limited -in his object, but on that very account more -profound,—you discover him, I say, in the -eyes, in the space which separates them, in -the nose and the mouth of this figure.’”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">SIR JOHN SUCKLING<br /> - -<small>1608-1641</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Aubrey’s <i>Lives<br /> -of Eminent<br /> -Persons</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“His</span> picture, which is like him, before his -poems, says that he was but twenty-eight -years old when he dyed. He -was of middle stature and slight -strength, brisque round eie, reddish -fac’t, and red-nosed (ill liver), his head -not very big, his hayre a kind of sand colour, -his beard turn’d up naturally, so that he had -a brisk and graceful looke. He died a -batchelour.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">W. C. Hazlitt’s<br /> -<i>Life of Sir<br /> -John Suckling</i>.</div> - -<p>“He was a man of grave deportment -and very comely person: of a -fair complexion, with good features -and flaxen haire.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">W. C. Hazlitt’s<br /> -<i>Life of Sir<br /> -John Suckling</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“In person he was of a middle size, -though but slightly made, with -a winning and graceful carriage, -and noble features.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">JONATHAN SWIFT<br /> - -<small>1667-1745</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Scott’s <i>Life<br /> -of Swift</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“Swift</span> was in person tall, strong, and well -made, of a dark complexion, but with blue -eyes, black and bushy eyebrows, -nose somewhat aquiline, and features -which remarkably expressed the stern, -haughty, and dauntless turn of his mind. He -was never known to laugh, and his smiles -are happily characterised by the well-known -lines of Shakespeare. Indeed the whole -description of Cassius might be applied to -Swift:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="indent2">‘He reads much;</div> -<div class="verse">He is a great observer and he looks</div> -<div class="verse">Quite through the deeds of men; ...</div> -<div class="verse">Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort,</div> -<div class="verse">As if he mock’d himself and scorn’d his spirit</div> -<div class="verse">That could be moved to smile at any thing.’</div> -</div></div> - -<p>... In youth he was reckoned handsome; -Pope observed that though his face had an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> -expression of dulness, his eyes were very -particular. They were as azure, he said, as -the heavens, and had an unusual expression of -acuteness. In old age the Dean’s countenance -conveyed an expression which, though -severe, was noble and impressive.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Johnson’s <i>Life<br /> -of Swift</i>.<br /> -*</div> - -<p>“The person of Swift had not many -recommendations. He had a kind of muddy -complexion which, though he -washed himself with oriental scrupulosity, -did not look clear. He had a countenance -sour and severe, which he seldom -softened by an appearance of gaiety. He -stubbornly resisted any tendency to laughter.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Thomas Roscoe’s<br /> -<i>Life of<br /> -Dean Swift</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“Swift was of middle stature, inclining to -tall, robust, and manly, with strongly-marked -and regular features. He had a -high forehead, a handsome nose, -and large piercing blue eyes, which -retained their lustre to the last. He had an -extremely agreeable and expressive countenance, -which, in the words of the unfortunate -Vanessa, sometimes shone with a divine compassion,—at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> -others, the most engaging vivacity, -indignation, fearful passion, and striking -awe. His mouth was pleasing, he had a fine -regular set of teeth, a round double chin -with a small dimple; his complexion a light -olive or pale brown. His voice was sharp, -strong, high-toned; but he was a bad reader, -especially of verses, and disliked music. -His mien was erect, his head firm, and his -whole deportment commanding. There was -a sternness and severity in his aspect which -wit and gaiety did not entirely remove. -When pleased he would smile, but never -laughed aloud.... In his person he was -neat and clean even to superstition, and -appeared regularly dressed in his gown -every morning, to receive the visits of his -most familiar friends.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY<br /> - -<small>1811-1863</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Theodore<br /> -Taylor’s<br /> -<i>Thackeray</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“As</span> for the man himself who has lectured -us, he is a stout, healthful, broad-shouldered -specimen of a man, with cropped -grayish hair, and keenish gray eyes, -peering very sharply through a pair -of spectacles that have a very satiric focus. -He seems to stand strongly on his own feet, -as if he would not be easily blown about or -upset, either by praise or pugilists; a man of -good digestion, who takes the world easy, -and scents all shams and humours (straightening -them between his thumb and forefinger) -as he would a pinch of snuff.”—1852.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Stoddard’s<br /> -<i>Anecdote<br /> -Biography of<br /> -Thackeray</i>.</div> - - -<p>“Good portraits of Thackeray are so -common, and so many of your readers saw -him in the lecture-room, that I need not -describe his person. The misshaped nose, so -broad at the bridge and so stubby at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> -end, was the effect of an early accident. -His near-sightedness, unless hereditary, must -have had, I think, a similar origin, -for no man had less the appearance -of a student who had weakened -his sight by application to books. In his -gestures—especially in the act of bowing -to a lady—there was a certain awkwardness, -made more conspicuous by his tall, well-proportioned, -and really commanding figure. His -hair, at forty, was already gray, but abundant -and massy; the cheeks had a ruddy tinge, and -there was no sallowness in the complexion; -the eyes, keen and kindly even when they -bore a sarcastic expression, twinkled through -and sometimes over the spectacles. What I -should call the predominant expression of -the countenance was courage—a readiness -to face the world on its own terms, without -either bawling or whining, asking no favour, -yielding, if at all, from magnanimity. I have -seen but two faces on which this expression, -coupled with that of high and intellectual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> -power, was equally striking—those of Daniel -Webster and Thomas Carlyle. But the -former had a saturnine gloom even in its -animation, and the latter a variety and intensity -of expression which was absent from -Thackeray’s.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Watts’s<br /> -<i>Great<br /> -Novelists</i>.</div> - - -<p>“In stature he was tall and commanding, -and he walked erect. With gray eyes—not -over luminous—and a noble brow, -his appearance was confident, but -never conceited or aggressive. He -wore long hair, and, but for a small whisker, -shaved clean. His features, if anything, -were immobile; the nose, which had been -fractured in youth at the Charterhouse, was, -like Milton’s, ‘a thoughtful one,’ and the -nostrils were full and wide, as are those of -all men of genius, according to Balzac.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">JAMES THOMSON<br /> - -<small>1700-1748</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Johnson’s <i>Life<br /> -of Thomson</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Thomson</span> was of stature above the middle -size, and ‘more fat than bard beseems,’ of a -dull countenance, and a gross, unanimated, -uninviting appearance; -silent in mingled company, but cheerful -among select friends, and by his friends -very tenderly and warmly beloved.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Murdoch’s<br /> -<i>Thomson</i>.</div> - - -<p>“Our author himself hints, somewhere in -his works, that his exterior was not the most -promising—his make being rather -robust than graceful, though it is -known that in his youth he had been thought -handsome. His worst appearance was when -you saw him walking alone in a thoughtful -mood, but let a friend accost him and enter -into conversation, he would instantly brighten -into a most amiable aspect, his features no -longer the same, and his eye darting a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> -peculiar animating fire. The case was much -alike in company, where, if it was mixed or -very numerous, he made but an indifferent -figure, but with a few select friends he was -open, sprightly, and entertaining. His wit -flowed freely but pertinently, and at due -intervals leaving room for every one to contribute -his share. Such was his extreme -sensibility, so perfect the harmony of his -organs with the sentiments of his mind, that -his looks always announced and half expressed -what he was about to say, and -his voice corresponded exactly to the -manner and degree in which he was -affected.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Rossetti’s<br /> -<i>Memoir of<br /> -Thomson</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“Thomson was above the middle size, of -a fat and bulky form, with a face that might -almost be called dull, and an uninviting -heavy look, although in his early -youth he had even been counted -handsome, and his eyes were expressive. -He was mostly taciturn, save in the company -of his familiar friends; with them he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> -cheerful and pleasant, and he secured their -attachment in an eminent degree.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">ANTHONY TROLLOPE<br /> - -<small>1815-1882</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">A personal<br /> -friend.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“I remember</span> a man hitting off a very good -description of Trollope’s manner, by remarking -that ‘he came in at the door like -a frantic windmill.’ The bell would -peal, the knocker begin thundering, the door -be burst open, and the next minute the -house be filled by the big resonant voice -inquiring who was at home. I should say -he had naturally a sweet voice, which through -eagerness he had spoilt by holloing. He -was a big man, and the most noticeable -thing about his dress was a black handkerchief -which he wore tied <i>twice</i> round his -neck. A trick of his was to put the end of a -silk pocket-handkerchief in his mouth and to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> -keep gnawing at it—often biting it into holes -in the excess of his energy; and a favourite -attitude was to stand with his thumbs tucked -into the armholes of his waistcoat. He was -a full-coloured man, and joking and playful -when at his ease. Unless with his intimates, -he rarely laughed, but he had a funny way -of putting things, and was usually voted good -company.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A personal<br /> -friend.</div> - - -<p>“Trollope said his height was five feet ten, -but most people would have thought him -taller. He was a stout man, large -of limb, and always held himself -upright without effort. His manner was -bluff, hearty, and genial, and he possessed to -the full the great charm of giving his undivided -attention to the matter in hand. He -was always enthusiastic and energetic in whatever -he did. He was of an eager disposition, -and doing nothing was a pain to him. In -early manhood he became bald; in his latter -life his full and bushy beard naturally grew -to be gray. He had thick eyebrows, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> -his open nostrils gave a look of determination -to his strong capable face. His -eyes were grayish-blue, but he was rarely -seen without spectacles, though of late years -he used to take them off whenever he was -reading. From a boy he had always been -short-sighted.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">A personal<br /> -friend.</div> - -<p>“Standing with his back to the fire, with -his hands clasped behind him and his feet -planted somewhat apart, the appearance -of Anthony Trollope, as I recall -him now, was that of a thorough Englishman -in a thoroughly English attitude. He was -then, perhaps, nearing sixty, and had far -more the look of a country gentleman than -of a man of letters. Tall, broad-shouldered, -and dressed in a careless though not slovenly -fashion, it seemed more fitting that he should -break into a vivid description of the latest -run with the hounds than launch into book-talk. -Either subject, however, and for the -matter of that I might add <i>any</i> subject, was -attacked by him with equal energy. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> -writing of the man, this, indeed, is the chief -impression I recall—his energy, his thoroughness. -While he talked to me, I and my -interests might have been the only things -for which he cared; and any passing topic of -conversation was, for the moment, the one -and absorbing topic in the world. Being -short-sighted, he had a habit of peering -through his glasses which contracted his -brows and gave him the appearance of a -perpetual frown, and, indeed, his expression -when in repose was decidedly severe. This, -however, vanished when he spoke. He -talked well, and had generally a great deal -to say; but his talk was disjointed, and he -but rarely laughed. In manner he was -brusque, and one of his most striking -peculiarities was his voice, which was of an -extraordinarily large compass.”—1873.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">EDMUND WALLER<br /> - -<small>1605-1687</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Aubrey’s <i>Lives<br /> -of Eminent<br /> -Persons</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“His</span> intellectuals are very good yet; but he -growes feeble. He is somewhat above a -middle stature, thin body, not at -all robust: fine thin skin, his face -somewhat of an olivaster; his -hayre frized, of a brownish colour, full eie, -popping out and working; ovall faced, his -forehead high and full of wrinkles. His head -but small, braine very hott, and apt to be -cholerique. <i>Quarto doctior, eo iracundior.</i>—<span class="smcap">Cic.</span> -He is somewhat magisteriall, and hath -received a great mastership of the English -language. He is of admirable elocution, and -gracefull, and exceeding ready.”—1680.</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Life of Edmund<br /> -Waller.</i><br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“Waller’s person was handsome and -graceful. That delicacy of soul -which produces instinctive propriety, -gave him an easy manner, which was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> -improved and finished by a polite education, -and by a familiar intercourse with the Great. -The symmetry of his features was dignified -with a manly aspect, and his eye was animated -with sentiment and poetry. His elocution, -like his verse, was musical and flowing. -In the senate, indeed, it often assumed -a vigorous and majestick tone, which, it -must be owned, is not a leading characteristick -of his numbers.... His conversation -was chatised by politeness, enriched by learning, -and brightened by wit.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote"><i>An account of the<br /> -life of Mr.<br /> -Edmund Waller.</i><br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“’Twas the politeness of his manners, as -well as the excellence of his genius, which -endeared him to these foreign -wits. All the world knows Mr. -St. Evremond was polite almost -to a fault, for ev’ry virtue has its opposite -vice, and this has affectation; and yet writing -to my Lord St. Albans he says, ‘Mr. Waller -vous garde une conversation délicieuse, je ne -suis pas si vain de vous <i>parleur</i> de mienne.’... -We shall close what we intend to say of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> -his manners and personal endowments with -the Earl of Clarendon’s short character of -him: ‘There was of the House of Commons -one Mr. Waller, and a gentleman of very good -fortune and estate, and of admirable parts and -faculty of wit, and of an intimate conversation -with those who had that reputation.’ This, -and what has been taken out of his lordship’s -history which has respect to Mr. Waller’s -qualities, confirm the judgment we endeavour -to form of him that he was one of the most -polite, the most gallant, and the most witty -men of his time, and he supported that character -above half a century.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">HORACE WALPOLE<br /> - -<small>1717-1797</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Walpoliana.</i></div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> person of Horace Walpole was short -and slender, but compact and neatly -formed. When viewed from behind he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> -somewhat of a boyish appearance, owing to -the form of his person, and the simplicity of -his dress. His features may be seen in many -portraits; but none can express the placid -goodness of his eyes, which would often -sparkle with sudden rays of wit, or dart forth -flashes of the most keen and intuitive intelligence. -His laugh was forced and uncouth, -and even his smile not the most pleasing. -His walk was enfeebled by the gout; which, -if the editor’s memory do not deceive, he -mentioned he had been tormented with since -the age of twenty-five.... This painful -complaint not only affected his feet, but -attacked his hands to such a degree that his -fingers were always swelled and deformed.... -His engaging manners and gentle endearing -affability to his friends exceed all -praise.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Cunningham’s<br /> -<i>Letters of<br /> -Walpole</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“The person of Horace Walpole<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> was -short and slender, but compact, and neatly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> -formed. When viewed from behind he had, -from the simplicity of his dress, somewhat of -a boyish appearance: fifty years -ago, he says, ‘Mr. Winnington -told me I ran along like a pewet.’ -His forehead was high and pale. His eyes -remarkably bright and penetrating. His -laugh was forced and uncouth, and his smile -not the most pleasing. His walk, for more -than half his life, was enfeebled by the gout, -which not only affected his feet, but attacked -his hands. Latterly his fingers were swelled -and deformed, having, as he would say, more -chalk-stones than joints in them, and adding -with a smile, that he must set up an inn, for -he could chalk a score with more ease and -rapidity than any man in England.... His -entrance into a room was in that style of -affected delicacy which fashion had made -almost natural—<i>chapeau bras</i> between his -hands as if he wished to compress it, or under -his arm, knees bent, and feet on tiptoe, as if -afraid of a wet floor. His summer dress of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> -ceremony was usually a lavender suit, the -waistcoat embroidered with a little silver, or -of white silk worked in the tambour, partridge -silk stockings, gold buckles, ruffles, and lace -frills. In winter he wore powder. He disliked -hats, and in his grounds at Strawberry -would even in winter walk without one. The -same antipathy, Cole tells us, extended to a -greatcoat.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Hawkins’s<br /> -<i>Memoirs</i>.</div> - - -<p>“His figure was not merely tall, but more -properly long and slender to excess; his complexion, -and particularly his hands, of -a most unhealthy paleness. His eyes -were remarkably bright and penetrating, very -dark and lively: his voice was not strong, but -his tones were exceedingly pleasant, and if I -may say so, highly gentlemanly. I do not -remember his common gait; he always entered -a room in that style of affected delicacy which -fashion had then made almost natural—<i>chapeau -bras</i> between his hands, as if he -wished to compress it, or under his arm, -knees bent, and feet on tiptoe, as if afraid of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> -a wet floor. His dress in visiting was most -usually, in summer, when I most saw him, a -lavender suit, the waistcoat embroidered with -a little silver, or of white silk worked in the -tambour, partridge silk stockings, and gold -buckles, ruffles and frill generally lace. I -remember, when a child, thinking him very -much under-dressed, if at any time, except -in mourning, he wore hemmed cambric. In -summer, no powder, but his wig combed -straight, and showing his very smooth, pale -forehead, and queued behind; in winter, -powder.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">IZAAC WALTON<br /> - -<small>1593-1683</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Zouch’s <i>Memoir<br /> -of Izaac Walton</i>.<br /> -*</div> - - - -<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> features of the countenance often enable -us to form a judgment, not very fallible, of -the disposition of the mind. In -few portraits can this discovery -be more successfully pursued than in that of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> -Izaac Walton. Lavater, the acute master -of physiognomy, would, I think, instantly -acknowledge in it the decisive traits of the -original,—mild complacency, forbearance, -mature consideration, calm activity, peace, -sound understanding, power of thought, discerning -attention, and secretly active friendship. -Happy in his unblemished integrity, -happy in the approbation and esteem of -others, he inwraps himself in his own virtue. -The exaltation of a good conscience eminently -shines forth in this venerable person—</p> - -<p class="center">‘Candida semper<br /> -Gaudia, et in vultu curarum ignara voluptas.’”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">JOHN WILSON<br /> - -<small>1785-1854</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">de Quincey’s<br /> -<i>Life and<br /> -writings</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“William Wordsworth</span> it was who ... -did me the favour of making me known to -John Wilson.... A man in a sailor’s dress,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> -manifestly in robust health, <i>fervidus juventa</i>, -and wearing upon his countenance a powerful -expression of ardour and -animated intelligence, mixed with -much good nature. ‘Mr. Wilson -of Elleray’—delivered as the formula of introduction, -in the deep tones of Mr. Wordsworth—at -once banished the momentary -surprise I felt on finding a stranger where I -had expected nobody, and substituted a surprise -of another kind; and there was no -wonder in his being at Allan Bank, Elleray -standing within nine miles; but (as usually -happens in such cases) I felt a shock of -surprise on seeing a person so little corresponding -to the one I had at first half-consciously -prefigured. Figure to yourself a -tall man about six feet high, within half an -inch or so, built with tolerable appearance of -strength; but at the date of my description -(that is, in the very spring-tide and bloom of -youth) wearing, for the predominant character -of his person, lightness and agility or (in our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> -Westmoreland phrase) <i>lishness</i>, he seemed -framed with an express view to gymnastic -exercises of every sort. Ask in one of your -public libraries for that little quarto edition -of the ‘<i>Rhetorical Works of Cicero</i>’ ... -and you will there see ... a reduced -whole-length of Cicero from the antique, -which in the mouth and chin, and indeed -generally, if I do not greatly forget, will give -you a lively representation of the contour -and expression of Professor Wilson’s face. -Of all this array of personal features, however, -I then saw nothing at all, my attention -being altogether occupied with Mr. Wilson’s -conversation and demeanour, which were in -the highest degree agreeable; the points -which chiefly struck me, being the humility -and gravity with which he spoke of himself, -his large expansion of heart, and a certain -air of noble frankness which overspread -everything he said; he seemed to have an -intense enjoyment of life; indeed, being -young, rich, healthy, and full of intellectual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> -activity, it could not be very wonderful that -he should feel happy and pleased with himself -and others; but it was something unusual -to find that so rare an assemblage of endowments -had communicated no tinge of arrogance -to his manner, or at all disturbed the -general temperance of his mind.”—1808.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Harriet Martineau’s<br /> -<i>Biographical<br /> -Sketches</i>.</div> - - -<p>“If the marvel of his eloquence is not -lessened, it is at least accounted for to those -who have seen him,—or even his -portrait. Such a presence is -rarely seen; and more than one -person has said that he reminded them of the -first man, Adam, so full was that large frame -of vitality, force, and sentience. His tread -seemed almost to shake the streets, his eye -almost saw through stone walls, and as for -his voice, there was no heart which could -stand before it. He swept away all hearts, -whithersoever he would. No less striking -was it to see him in a mood of repose, as -when he steered the old packet-boat that -used to pass between Bowness and Ambleside,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> -before the steamers were put upon the -Lake. Sitting motionless with his hand -upon the rudder, in the presence of journey-men -and market-women, with his eyes -apparently looking beyond everything into -nothing, and his mouth closed under his -beard, as if he meant never to speak again, -he was quite as impressive and immortal an -image as he could have been to the students -of his class or the comrades of his jovial -hours.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Forster’s <i>Life<br /> -of Dickens</i>.</div> - -<p>“Walking up and down the hall of the -courts of law (which was full of advocates, -writers to the signet, clerks, and -idlers), was a tall, burly, handsome -man of eight and fifty, with a gait like -O’Connell’s, the bluest eye you can imagine, -and long hair—longer than mine—falling -down in a wild way under the broad brim of -his hat. He had on a surtout coat, a blue -checked shirt; the collar standing up, and -kept in its place with a wisp of black neckerchief; -no waistcoat; and a large pocket-handkerchief<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> -thrust into his breast, which -was all broad and open. At his heels followed -a wiry, sharp-eyed, shaggy devil of a terrier, -dogging his steps as he went slashing up and -down, now with one man beside him, now -with another, and now quite alone, but always -at a fast, rolling pace, with his head in the -air, and his eyes as wide open as he could -get them. I guessed it was Wilson; and it -was. A bright, clear-complexioned, mountain-looking -fellow, he looks as though he had -just come down from the Highlands and had -never in his life taken pen in hand. But he -has had an attack of paralysis in his right -arm within this month. He winced when I -shook hands with him, and once or twice -when we were walking up and down slipped -as if he had stumbled on a piece of orange-peel. -He is a great fellow to look at, and to -talk to; and, if you could divest your mind -of the actual Scott, is just the figure you -would put in his place.”—1841.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">ELLEN WOOD<br /> - -<small>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. Henry Wood</span>)</small><br /> - -<small>1814-1887</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>The Argosy</i>,<br /> -1887.</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> face was a pure oval of the most -refined description; that perfection of form -that is so rarely seen. A small, -straight, very delicate and refined -nose; teeth of dazzling whiteness, entire -to the day of her death; a perfect mouth, -revealing at once the sensitiveness and tender -sympathy of her nature, and the steadfastness -of her disposition. Her eyes were unusually -large, dark, and flashing, with a penetrating -gaze that seemed to read your inmost thoughts. -One felt that everything before her had to be -outspoken; for if you uttered only half your -thoughts, she would certainly divine the rest.... -The head was well set upon the -shoulders; a head perfect in form, small except -where the intellectual faculties were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> -developed. Her complexion was dazzling, -the most lovely bloom at all times contrasting -with the brilliant whiteness of her skin. In -hours of animation I have watched the delicate -flush come and go a hundred times in as -many minutes across her wonderful countenance; -and, to record the simile once used -by a friend in speaking to me of this peculiar -beauty, ‘chasing each other like the rosy -clouds of sunrise sweeping across a summer -sky.’ She had a very keen sense of wit and -humour. This strange beauty remained with -her to the end. Even in hours of illness and -suffering it never forsook her. Her face -never lost its look of youth. It was absolutely -without line or wrinkle or any mark -or sign of age. She kept to the last the -complexion and freshness of a young girl; -that strange radiancy which seemed the -reflection of some unseen glory. This was -so great that to the last we were unable to -realise that death could come to her.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">WILLIAM WORDSWORTH<br /> - -<small>1770-1850</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote">Leigh Hunt’s<br /> -<i>Autobiography</i>.</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“Mr. Wordsworth</span> ... had a dignified -manner, with a deep and roughish but not -unpleasing voice, and an exalted -mode of speaking. He had a -habit of keeping his left hand in the bosom -of his waistcoat; and in this attitude, except -when he turned round to take one of the -subjects of his criticism from the shelves -(for his contemporaries were there also), he -sat dealing forth his eloquent but hardly -catholic judgments.... Walter Scott said -that the eyes of Burns were the finest he -ever saw. I cannot say the same of Mr. -Wordsworth; that is, not in the sense of the -beautiful, or even of the profound. But certainly -I never beheld eyes which looked so inspired -and supernatural. They were like fires -half burning, half smouldering with a sort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> -of acrid fixture of regard, and seated at the -further end of two caverns. One might imagine -Ezekiel or Isaiah to have had such eyes. -The finest eyes, in every sense of the word, -which I have ever seen in a man’s head -(and I have seen many fine ones), are those -of Thomas Carlyle.”—1815.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">S. C. Hall’s<br /> -<i>Memories of<br /> -Great Men</i>.</div> - -<p>“His features were large, and not suddenly -expressive; they conveyed little idea of the -‘poetic fire’ usually associated with -brilliant imagination. His eyes -were mild and up-looking, his -mouth coarse rather than refined, his forehead -high rather than broad; but every -action seemed considerate, and every look -self-possessed, while his voice, low in tone, -had that persuasive eloquence which invariably -‘moves men.’”—1832.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Carlyle’s<br /> -<i>Reminiscences</i>.</div> - - -<p>“... He (Wordsworth) talked well in -his way; with veracity, easy brevity, and -force, as a wise tradesman would -of his tools and workshop,—and -as no unwise one could. His voice was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> -good, frank, and sonorous, though practically -clear, distinct, and forcible, rather than -melodious; the tone of him business-like, -sedately confident; no discourtesy, yet no -anxiety about being courteous. A fine -wholesome rusticity, fresh as his mountain -breezes, sat well on the stalwart veteran, and -on all he said and did. You would have -said he was a usually taciturn man; glad to -unlock himself to audience sympathetic and -intelligent when such offered itself. His face -bore marks of much, not always peaceful, -meditation; the look of it not bland or -benevolent so much as close, impregnable, -and hard: a man <i>multa tacere loquive -paratus</i>, in a world where he had experienced -no lack of contradictions as he strode -along! The eyes were not very brilliant, -but they had a quiet clearness; there was -enough of brow, and well-shaped; rather too -much of cheek (‘horse face’ I have heard -satirists say); face of squarish shape, and -decidedly longish, as I think the head itself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> -was (its ‘length’ going horizontal); he was -large-boned, lean, but still firm-knit, tall, and -strong-looking when he stood, a right good -old steel-gray figure, with rustic simplicity and -dignity about him, and a vivacious strength -looking through him which might have suited -one of those old steel-gray markgrafs -whom Henry the Fowler set up to ward the -‘marches’ and do battle with the heathen -in a stalwart and judicious manner.”</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SIR HENRY WOTTON<br /> - -<small>1568-1639</small></h2></div> - - -<div class="sidenote"><i>Reliquiæ<br /> -Wottoninæ</i></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">“He</span> returned out of <i>Italy</i> in <i>England</i> about -the thirtieth year of his age, being then -noted by many, both for his -person and comportment; for -indeed he was of a choice shape, tall of -stature, and of a most persuasive behaviour; -which was so mixed with sweet Discourse -and Civilities, as gained him much love from -all Persons with whom he entered into an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> -acquaintance. And whereas he was noted -in his Youth to have a sharp Wit, and apt to -jest; that, by Time, Travel, and Conversation, -was so polished, and made so useful, that his -company seemed to be one of the delights of -mankind.”—1598.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">M. E. W.<br /> -*</div> - - -<p>“An eminently lovable face, albeit there -is something in the gravely-set mouth which -recalls the old Elizabethan expression -‘<i>My Dearest Dread</i>.’ The love -of those about him for this tender-worded -amourous poet, this gentle student, this -courtly gentleman, must have struggled hard -for the mastery with that reverence which -they must have felt for the learned author, -the friend of kings, the diplomatist. Something -of all this, I fancy, shows in the face -and figure of the man as Jansen has portrayed -him in the picture now hanging in the -Bodleian Library at Oxford. The high -square brow from which the hair has been -brushed up and back in short silky waves, the -strongly-marked eyebrows, the long straight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> -nose,—they all speak of good brains and an -iron will; while there is a suspicion of daintiness -in the close-cropped whiskers, trimly-pointed -beard, and flowing moustache. The -eyes are his finest feature, large and oval, -with the eyelid drooping somewhat at the -outer edge, which gives him a look of sadness. -So far from bending forward under -the orthodox student’s-stoop, Sir Henry is -tall, straight, and broad-shouldered, for he -comes of a fighting race, and there is more -of the soldier than of the scholar in his -appearance. The hands are strong, nervous, -and well shaped; the dress that of a sober-minded -gentleman. That word indeed sums -up his personal appearance as fully as it does -his character: the portrait of Sir Henry -Wotton is emphatically that of a gentleman.”</p> - - -<p class="center">THE END.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<blockquote> -<p class="center"><i>Printed by</i> R. & R. <span class="smcap">Clark</span>, <i>Edinburgh</i>.</p> - -<p class="right"><i>S. & H.</i></p></blockquote> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">RICHARD BENTLEY & SON’S</h2></div> - -<p class="ph3">LIST OF WORKS</p> - -<p class="center"><small>FOR</small></p> - -<p class="center"><i>OCTOBER & NOVEMBER</i></p> - -<p class="center"><strong>1887.</strong></p> - -<hr class="tiny" /> - -<p class="center">I</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>AUTOBIOGRAPHY AND REMINISCENCES -OF W. P. FRITH, R.A.</b> In two vols., demy 8vo., with -two Portraits.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">II</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>WHAT I REMEMBER.</b> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Adolphus -Trollope</span>. In two vols., demy 8vo., with Portrait.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">III</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCESSE HÉLÈNE -DE LIGNE.</b> From the French of <span class="smcap">Lucien Perey</span>, by -<span class="smcap">Laura Ensor</span>. In two vols., large crown 8vo., with -Portrait.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">IV</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>VERESTCHAGIN: PAINTER: SOLDIER: -TRAVELLER.</b> Autobiographical Sketches by Mons. and -Madame <span class="smcap">Verestchagin</span>, from the original by <span class="smcap">F. H. Peters</span>, -M.A. In two volumes, large crown 8vo., with upwards of -eighty Illustrations from sketches by the Author.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">V</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>AUTOBIOGRAPHY AND REMINISCENCES -OF SIR DOUGLAS FORSYTH, K.C.S.I., C.B.</b> Edited -by his Daughter, <span class="smcap">Ethel Forsyth</span>. In demy 8vo., with -Portrait on Steel, and Map.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">VI</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>THE COURT AND REIGN OF FRANCIS -THE FIRST, KING OF FRANCE.</b> By <span class="smcap">Julia Pardoe</span>. -A New Edition in three volumes, demy 8vo., with Illustrations -on Steel, and voluminous Index.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">VII</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>THE LAST OF THE VALOIS: and the -Accession of Henry of Navarre, 1559-1610.</b> By <span class="smcap">Catherine -Charlotte Lady Jackson</span>. In two vols., large Crown 8vo., -with Portraits on Steel. 24s.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">VIII</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>A HOLIDAY ON THE ROAD.</b> An Artist’s -Wanderings in Kent, Sussex, and Surrey. By <span class="smcap">James John -Hissey</span>. In demy 8vo., with numerous Illustrations from -Sketches by the Author, and engraved upon wood by <span class="smcap">George -Pearson</span>.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">IX</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>WILD LIFE AND ADVENTURE IN THE -AUSTRALIAN BUSH.</b> By <span class="smcap">Arthur Nicols</span>, F.G.S., -F.R.G.S., Author of “Zoological Notes,” “Natural History of -the Carnivora,” etc. In two vols., large crown 8vo., with -eight Illustrations from Sketches by <span class="smcap">Mr. John Nettleship</span>.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">X</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>MY CONSULATE IN SAMOA.</b> With Personal -Experiences of King Malietoa Laupepa, His Country, and His -Men. By <span class="smcap">William B. Churchward</span>. In demy 8vo. 15s.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">XI</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>LETTERS FROM CRETE.</b> Written during the -Spring of 1886. By <span class="smcap">Charles Edwardes</span>. In demy 8vo. 15s.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">XII</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>THE ENGLISH OCCUPATION OF TANGIERS, -1663-1684.</b> Being the first volume of “The History of the -Second Queen’s Royal Regiment (now the Queen’s Royal West -Surrey Regiment).” By Lieut.-Colonel <span class="smcap">John Davis</span>, F.S.A., -Author of “Historical Records of the Second Royal Surrey -Militia.” In royal 8vo., with Maps, Plans, and numerous -Illustrations. Vol. I. 24s.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center"><i>The Work is expected to be completed in four volumes, royal 8vo.</i></p> - -<p class="center">XIII</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>LORD CARTERET</b>: a Political Biography. By -<span class="smcap">Archibald Ballantyne</span>. In demy 8vo. 16s.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">XIV</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>WORD PORTRAITS of FAMOUS WRITERS.</b> -Edited by <span class="smcap">Mabel E. Wotton</span>. In large Crown 8vo.</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">XV</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p class="hangingindent"><b>A GENTLEMAN OF THE OLDEN TIME.</b> -<span class="smcap">François de Scépeaux, Sire de Vieilleville</span>, 1509-1571. -From the French of Madame C. Coignet, by <span class="smcap">C. B. Pitman</span>. -In two vols., crown 8vo. 21s.</p></blockquote> - - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">London: Richard Bentley & Son, New Burlington St.</span></p> - -<p class="center">Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">FOOTNOTES:</h2></div> - - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> All wool.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a></p> -<p> -“Prively a <i>penner</i> gan he borwe,<br /> -And in a lettre wrote he all his sorwe!”</p> -<p class="indent"><i>Marchant’s Tale</i>, l. 9753.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> A puppet.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Shy, reserved.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <i>Q. Quot feet I am high? Resp. of middle stature.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Drawn from Pinkerton, Miss Hawkins, Coles MSS. and his -letters.</p></div> - -<p> </p> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p> </p> - -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="ph3">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:</p> - -<p>The cover image for this eBook has been created by the transcriber using the original cover as the background and is thus entered into the public domain.</p> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Archaic spelling that may have been in use at the time of publication has been preserved.</p> - -<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been preserved.</p> - -<p>One unpaired double quotation mark could not be corrected.</p> -</div> - -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORD PORTRAITS OF FAMOUS WRITERS***</p> -<p>******* This file should be named 56166-h.htm or 56166-h.zip *******</p> -<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> -<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/6/1/6/56166">http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/1/6/56166</a></p> -<p> -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed.</p> - -<p>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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