Let no one sneer, he accomplished much; his life was peaceful, so was his death.
Are these trifles?
I wish I could describe him, for I loved the man, and with reason, for he was ever kind to me, to whom kindness has not always been shown; and he was, moreover, a choice specimen of a class which no longer exists--a gentleman lawyer of the old school.

I would fain describe him, but figures with which he has nought to do press forward and keep him from my mind's eye; there they pass, Spaniard and Moor, Gypsy, Turk, and livid Jew.

But who is that?
what that thick pursy man in the loose, snuff-coloured great-coat, with the white stockings, drab breeches, and silver buckles on his shoes; that man with the bull neck, and singular head, immense in the lower part, especially about the jaws, but tapering upward like a pear; the man with the bushy brows, small grey eyes, replete with cat-like expression, whose grizzled hair is cut close, and whose ear-lobes are pierced with small golden rings?
Oh! that is not my dear old master, but a widely different personage.

_Bon jour_, _Monsieur Vidocq_! _expressions de ma part a Monsieur Le Baron Taylor_.
But here comes at last my veritable old master! A more respectable-looking individual was never seen; he really looked what he was, a gentleman of the law--there was nothing of the pettifogger about him: somewhat under the middle size, and somewhat rotund in person, he was always dressed in a full suit of black, never worn long enough to become threadbare.

His face was rubicund, and not without keenness; but the most remarkable thing about him was the crown of his head, which was bald, and shone like polished ivory, nothing more white, smooth, and lustrous.