He was now hardly beyond middle life, and he assumed for himself the character of a man of taste.

He loved music, and pictures, and books, and pretty women.

He loved also good eating and drinking; but conceived of himself that in his love for them he was an artist, and not a glutton.

He had married early, and his wife had died soon.

He had not given himself up with any special zeal to the education of his children, nor to the preservation of his property.