His eyes were dark, bright and penetrating, and his forehead (high and thoughtful) corrected the playful smile of his mouth, which might otherwise have given to his features too great an expression of levity.

He was not positively ill dressed, yet he paid no attention to any external art, except cleanliness.

His usual garb was a brown coat, much too large for him, a coloured neckcloth, a spotted waistcoat, grey trowsers, and short gaiters: add to these gloves of most unsullied doeskin, and a curiously thick cane, and the portrait is complete.
In manners, he was civil, or rude, familiar, or distant, just as the whim seized him; never was there any address less common, and less artificial.

What a rare gift, by the by, is that of manners! how difficult to define--how much more difficult to impart! Better for a man to possess them, than wealth, beauty, or talent; they will more than supply all.

No attention is too minute, no labour too exaggerated, which tends to perfect them.