On the wall, just above his shoulder, is a sketch of a Viking putting the lighted brand to his ship in mid sea, and you are to understand that his time is come and so should a Viking die: further, if you will, the subject is a modern Viking, ready for the responsibilities of the title.

Sketches of our ancient wooden walls and our iron and plated defences line the panellings.

These degenerate artists do work hard for their money.
The portrait of John's father, dated a generation back, is just the man and little else, phantomly the man.

His brown coat struggles out of the obscurity of the background, but it is chiefly background clothing him.
His features are distinguishable and delicate: you would suppose him appearing to you under the beams of a common candle, or cottage coalfire--ferruginously opaque.

The object of the artist (apart from the triumph of tone on the canvas) is to introduce him as an elegant and faded gentleman, rather retiring into darkness than emerging.