A Freemason, probably; a solemn drunkard, who became intoxicated oftener on big words than on native wine, and spoke in a loud, pretentious voice, gazing before him with large, stupid eyes swimming in a sort of ecstasy; his whole person made one think of a boozy preacher.

He immediately inspired the engraver with respect, and dazzled him by the fascination which the audacious exert over the timid.

M.Gerard thought he discerned in Combarieu one of those superior men whom a cruel fate had caused to be born among the lower class and in whom poverty had stifled genius.
Enlightened as to the artist's political preferences by the bowl of his pipe, Combarieu complacently eulogized himself.

Upon his own admission he had at first been foolish enough to dream of a universal brotherhood, a holy alliance of the people.

He had even written poems which he had published himself, notably an "Ode to Poland," and an "Epistle to Beranger," which latter had evoked an autograph letter from the illustrious song-writer.