He was a poser, a wearer of clothes, forever acting a part, striving to create an impression, to draw attention to himself.

He was not without a certain energy, but he devoted it to small ends, to perfecting himself in little accomplishments, continually running after some new thing, incapable of persisting long in any one course.

At one moment his mania would be fencing; the next, sleight-of-hand tricks; the next, archery.

For upwards of one month he had devoted himself to learning how to play two banjos simultaneously, then abandoning this had developed a sudden passion for stamped leather work and had made a quantity of purses, tennis belts, and hat bands, which he presented to young ladies of his acquaintance.

It was his policy never to make an enemy.