drop in a' nights,
about nine or ten o'clock,--cold bread-and-cheese time,--just in the
_wishing_ time of the night, when you _wish_ for somebody to come in,
without a distinct idea of a probable anybody. Just in the nick, neither
too early to be tedious, nor too late to sit a reasonable time. He is a
most pleasant hand,--a fine, rattling fellow, has gone through life
laughing at solemn apes; himself hugely literate, oppressively full of
information in all stuff of conversation, from matter of fact to
Xenophon and Plato; can talk Greek with Porson, politics with Thelwall,
conjecture with George Dyer, nonsense with me, and anything with
anybody; a great farmer, somewhat concerned in an agricultural magazine;
reads no poetry but Shakspeare, very intimate with Southey, but never
reads his poetry; relishes George Dyer, thoroughly penetrates into the
ridiculous wherever found, understands the _first time_ (a great
desideratum in common minds),--you need never twice speak to him; does
not want explanations, translations, limitations, as Professor Godwin
does when you make an assertion; _up_ to anything, _down_ to everything,
--whatever _sapit hominem_. A perfect _man_. All this farrago, which
must perplex you to read, and has put me to a little trouble to
_select_, only proves how impossible it is to describe a _pleasant
hand_. You must see Rickman to know him, for he is a species in one,--a
new class; an exotic, any slip of which I am proud to put in my
garden-pot. The clearest-headed fellow; fullest of matter, with least
verbosity. If there be any alloy in my fortune to have met with such a
man, it is that he commonly divides his time between town and country,
having some foolish family ties at Christchurch, by which means he can
only gladden our London hemisphere with returns of light. He is now
going for six weeks.

[1] John Rickman, clerk-assistant at the table of the House of Commons,
an eminent statistician, and the intimate friend of Lamb, Southey, and
others of their set.

XXXI.

TO MANNING.

_November_ 28, 1800

Dear Manning,--I have received a very kind invitation from Lloyd and
Sophia to go and spend a month with them at the Lakes. Now, it
fortunately happens (which is so seldom the case) that I have spare cash
by me enough to answer the expenses of so long a journey; and I am
determined to get away from the office by some means.

The purpose of this letter is to request of you (my dear friend) that