f consulting
you before my lecture was written." The person addressed evidently did
not know whether to take this for irony or truth: he stammered out an
incoherent reply, and seemed greatly relieved when the giant turned to
leave the shop.

At other times, however, he was kind and considerate. Reaching London
one day in June, 1857, I found him at home, grave and sad, having that
moment returned from the funeral of Douglas Jerrold. He spoke of the
periodical attacks by which his own life was threatened, and repeated
what he had often said to me before,--"I shall go some day,--perhaps in
a year or two. I am an old man already." He proposed visiting a lady
whom we both knew, but whom he had not seen for some time. The lady
reminded him of this fact, and expressed her dissatisfaction at some
length. He heard her in silence, and then, taking hold of the crape on
his left arm, said, in a grave, quiet voice,--"I must remove this,--I
have just come from poor Jerrold's grave."

Although, from his experience of life, he was completely
_desillusionne_, the well of natural tenderness was never dried in his
heart. He rejoiced, with a fresh, boyish delight, in every evidence of
an unspoiled nature in others,--in every utterance which denoted what
may have seemed to him over-faith in the good. The more he was saddened
by his knowledge of human weakness and folly, the more gratefully he
welcomed strength, virtue, sincerity. His eyes never unlearned the habit
of that quick moisture which honors the true word and the noble deed.

His mind was always occupied with some scheme of quiet benevolence. Both
in America and in England, I have known him to plan ways by which he
could give pecuniary assistance to some needy acquaintance or countryman
without wounding his sensitive pride. He made many attempts to procure a
good situation in New York for a well-known English author, who was at
that time in straitened circumstances. The latter, probably, never knew
of this effort to help him. In November, 1857, when the financial crisis
in America was at its height, I happened to say to him, playfully, that
I hoped my remittances would not be stopped. He instantly picked up a
note-book, ran over the leaves, and said to me, "I find I have three
hundred pounds at my banker's. Take the money now, if you are in want of
it; or shall I keep it for you, in case you may need it?" Fortunately, I
had no occasion to avail myself of his generous offer; but I