mal and elaborate. The natural man lurked behind a barrier of
ceremony, and he rarely showed himself unless in full dress. He could
unbend in his family, but in the outer world he put on his defensive
armour of stately politeness, which even for congenial minds made
familiarity difficult if it effectually repelled impertinence. But
beneath this sensitive nature lay an energetic and even impetuous
character, and an intellect singularly clear, subtle, and decisive. His
reasons were apt to be complicated, but he came to very definite
results, and was both rapid and resolute in action. He had 'a strong
will,' says Taylor, 'and great tenacity of opinion. When he made a
mistake, which was very seldom considering the prodigious quantity of
business he despatched, his subordinates could rarely venture to point
it out; he gave them so much trouble before he could be evicted from his
error.' In private life, as Taylor adds, his friends feared to suggest
any criticisms; not because he resented advice but because he suffered
so much from blame.

Another peculiarity was oddly blended with this. Among his topics of
self-humiliation, sufficiently frequent, one was his excess of
'loquacity.' A very shy man, it is often remarked, may shrink from
talking, but when he begins to talk he talks enormously. My father, at
any rate, had a natural gift for conversation. He could pour out a
stream of talk such as, to the best of my knowledge, I have never heard
equalled. The gift was perhaps stimulated by accidents. The weakness of
his eyes had forced him to depend very much upon dictation. I remember
vividly the sound of his tread as he tramped up and down his room,
dictating to my mother or sister, who took down his words in shorthand
and found it hard to keep pace with him. Even his ordinary conversation
might have been put into print with scarcely a correction, and was as
polished and grammatically perfect as his finished writing. The flow of
talk was no doubt at times excessive. Taylor tells of an indignant
gentleman who came to his room after attempting to make some
communication to the Under-Secretary. Mr. Stephen, he said, had at once
begun to speak, and after discoursing for half an hour without a
moment's pause, courteously bowed the gentleman out, thanking him for
the valuable information which still remained unuttered. Sir James
Stephen, said Lord Monteagle to Carlyle, 'shuts his eyes on you and
talks as if he were dictating a colonia