he repeats an old remark or story, it is with the same
freshness and point as for the first time. It always arises out of the
occasion, and has the stamp of originality. There is no parroting of
himself. His look is a continual, ever-varying history-piece of what
passes in his mind. His face is as a book. There need no marks of
interjection or interrogation to what he says. His manner is quite
picturesque. There is an excess of character and _naivete_ that never
tires. His thoughts bubble up and sparkle, like beads on old wine. The
fund of anecdote, the collection of curious particulars, is enough to set
up any common retailer of jests, that dines out every day; but these are
not strung together like a row of galley-slaves, but are always introduced
to illustrate some argument or bring out some fine distinction of
character. The mixture of spleen adds to the sharpness of the point, like
poisoned arrows. Mr. Northcote enlarges with enthusiasm on the old
painters, and tells good things of the new. The only thing he ever vexed
me in was his liking the _Catalogue Raisonnee_. I had almost as soon hear
him talk of Titian's pictures (which he does with tears in his eyes, and
looking just like them) as see the originals, and I had rather hear him
talk of Sir Joshua's than see them. He is the last of that school who knew
Goldsmith and Johnson. How finely he describes Pope! His elegance of mind,
his figure, his character were not unlike his own. He does not resemble a
modern Englishman, but puts one in mind of a Roman Cardinal or Spanish
Inquisitor. I never ate or drank with Mr. Northcote; but I have lived on
his conversation with undiminished relish ever since I can remember,--and
when I leave it, I come out into the street with feelings lighter and more
etherial than I have at any other time.--One of his _tete-a-tetes_ would
at any time make an Essay; but he cannot write himself, because he loses
himself in the connecting passages, is fearful of the effect, and wants
the habit of bringing his ideas into one focus or point of view. A _lens_
is necessary to collect the diverging rays, the refracted and broken
angular lights of conversation on paper. Contradiction is half the battle
in talking--the being startled by what others say, and having to answer
on the spot. You have to defend yourself, paragraph by paragraph,
parenthesis within parenthesis. Perhaps it might be supposed that a person
who excels in conversation and cannot wri