In a word, he
exhibited his emotions in a fine, simple, natural manner. Contrary to the
usual habits of wits, no retort or reply by Lamb, however smart in
character, ever gave pain. It is clear that ill nature is not wit, and
that there may be sparkling flowers which are not surrounded by thorns.
Lamb's dissent was very intelligible, but never superfluously
demonstrative; often, indeed, expressed by his countenance only; sometimes
merely by silence.
He was more pleasant to some persons (more pleasant, I confess, to _me_)
for the few faults or weaknesses that he had. He did not daunt us, nor
throw us to a distance, by his formidable virtues. We sympathized with
him; and this sympathy, which is a union between two similitudes, does not
exist between perfect and imperfect natures. Like all of us, he had a few
prejudices: he did not like Frenchmen; he shrunk from Scotchmen
(excepting, however, Burns); he disliked bankrupts; he hated close
bargainers. For the Jewish nation he entertained a mysterious awe: the
Jewesses he admired, with trembling: "Jael had those full, dark,
inscrutable eyes," he says. Of Braham's triumphant singing he repeatedly
spoke; there had been nothing like it in his recollection: he considered
him equal to Mrs.
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