He was a perfect symphony of bewitching enthusiasm and convincing calculation.

Dicaeopolis in the "Aeharnenses," in presenting a gentleman called Nicharchus to the audience, observes: "He is small, I confess, but, there is nothing lost in him: all is knave that is not fool." Parodying the equivocal compliment, I may say that though Uncle Jack was no giant, there was nothing lost in him.

Whatever was not philanthropy was arithmetic, and whatever was not arithmetic was philanthropy.

He would have been equally dear to Howard and to Cocker.
Uncle Jack was comely too,--clear-skinned and florid, had a little mouth, with good teeth, wore no whiskers, shaved his beard as close as if it were one of his grand national companies; his hair, once somewhat sandy, was now rather grayish, which increased the respectability of his appearance; and he wore it flat at the sides and raised in a peak at the top; his organs of constructiveness and ideality were pronounced by Mr.
Squills to be prodigious, and those freely developed bumps gave great breadth to his forehead.

Well-shaped, too, was Uncle Jack, about five feet eight,--the proper height for an active man of business.