“Our author himself hints, somewhere in his works, that his exterior was not the most promising--his make being rather robust than graceful, though it is known that in his youth he had been thought handsome. His worst appearance was when you saw him walking alone in a thoughtful mood, but let a friend accost him and enter into conversation, he would instantly brighten into a most amiable aspect, his features no longer the same, and his eye darting a peculiar animating fire. The case was much alike in company, where, if it was mixed or very numerous, he made but an indifferent figure, but with a few select friends he was open, sprightly, and entertaining. His wit flowed freely but pertinently, and at due intervals leaving room for every one to contribute his share. Such was his extreme sensibility, so perfect the harmony of his organs with the sentiments of his mind, that his looks always announced and half expressed what he was about to say, and his voice corresponded exactly to the manner and degree in which he was affected.” [Sidenote: Rossetti’s _Memoir of Thomson_. *] “Thomson was above the middle size, of a fat and bulky form, with a face that might almost be called dull, and an uninviting heavy look, although in his early youth he had even been counted handsome, and his eyes were expressive. He was mostly taciturn, save in the company of his familiar friends; with them he was cheerful and pleasant, and he secured their attachment in an eminent degree.” ANTHONY TROLLOPE 1815-1882 [Sidenote: A personal friend.] “I remember a man hitting off a very good description of Trollope’s manner, by remarking that ‘he came in at the door like a frantic windmill.’ The bell would peal, the knocker begin thundering, the door be burst open, and the next minute the house be filled by the big resonant voice inquiring who was at home. I should say he had naturally a sweet voice, which through eagerness he had spoilt by holloing. He was a big man, and the most noticeable thing about his dress was a black handkerchief which he wore tied _twice_ round his neck. A trick of his was to put the end of a silk pocket-handkerchief in his mouth and to keep gnawing at it--often biting it into holes in the excess of his energy; and a favourite attitude was to stand with his thumbs tucked into the armholes of his waistcoat. He was a full-coloured man, and joking and playful when at his ease. Unless with his intimates, he rarely laughed, but he had a funny way of putting things, and was usually voted good company.” [Sidenote: A personal friend.]