Lambert’s height was five feet eleven inches; three yards four inches round the body; one yard and one inch round the leg; his weight, a few days before his death, was found by the Caledonian balance to be 739lbs. His coffin measured 6 feet 4 inches long, 4 feet 4 inches wide, 2 feet 4 inches deep, and contained 112 superficial feet of elm. It was built upon two axletrees and four clog wheels, and upon these his remains were, at about half past eight o’clock on Friday morning, the 23rd, drawn to the new burial ground, in St. Martin’s, Stamford. His grave was dug with a gradual sloping for many yards, and upwards of 20 men were employed for nearly half an hour (after having dragged the corpse to the mouth of the grave) in getting this enormous mass of putridity into its “narrow cell.” Notwithstanding the early hour at which he was buried, a great concourse of people, “youth and hoar age,” were assembled, numbers of whom had been in expectation of seeing him alive, in propria persona, but were now obliged to content themselves with the mere sight of his coffin, which, to a contemplative mind, would create reflections on the mutability of all sublunary things. “The grave has eloquence, its lectures teach, In silence, louder than divines can preach.” We shall now proceed to state what we have been able to collect relative to the habits, manners, and propensities of this extraordinary man. It is not improbable that incessant exercise in the open air, in the early part of his life laid the foundation of an uncommonly healthy constitution. Lambert scarcely knew what it was to be ailing or indisposed. His temperance, no doubt, contributed towards this uninterrupted flow of health. His food differed in no respect from that of other people; he ate with moderation, and of one dish at a time. He never drank any other beverage than water; and though at one period of his life he seldom spent an evening at home, but with convivial parties, he never could be prevailed on to join his companions in their libations. One of the qualifications that strongly tend to promote harmony and conviviality, was possessed in an eminent degree by Lambert--He had a fine, powerful, and melodious voice. It was a strong tenor, unlike that of a fat man, light, and unembarrassed, and the articulation perfectly clear. He never felt any pain in his progress towards his extraordinary bulk, but increased gradually and imperceptibly. Before he was bulky he never knew what it was to be out of wind. It was evident to all those who were acquainted with him, that he had no oppression upon his lungs, from fat or any other cause: and Dr. Heaviside expressed his opinion, that his life was as good (or comfortable) as that of any other healthy man.