Amongst others, Charles Lamb came to most of these dinners, always dressed
in black (his old snuff-colored suit having been dismissed for years);
always kind and genial; conversational, not talkative, but quick in reply;
eating little, and drinking moderately with the rest. Allan Cunningham, a
stalwart man, was generally there; very Scotch in aspect, but ready to do
a good turn to any one. His talk was not too abundant, although he was a
voluminous writer in prose. His songs, not unworthy of being compared with
even those of Burns, are (as everybody knows) excellent. His face shone at
these festivities. Reynolds came always. His good temper and vivacity were
like condiments at the feast.
There also came, once or twice, the Rev. H. F. Cary, the quiet gentleness
of whose face almost interfered with its real intelligence. Yet he spoke
well, and with readiness, on any subject that he chose to discuss. He was
very intimate with Lamb, who latterly often dined with him, and was always
punctual. "By Cot's plessing we will not be absent at the Grace" (he
writes in 1834). Lamb's taste was very homely: he liked tripe and cow-
heel, and once, when he was suggesting a particular dish to his friend, he
wrote," We were talking of roast shoulder of mutton and onion sauce; but I
scorn to prescribe hospitalities.
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