and Martin with their soot-pots forbidden to approach.

The man is not of godlike physiognomy, any more than of imposing stature
or costume: close-shut mouth with thin lips, prominent jaws and nose,
receding brow, by no means of Olympian height; head, however, is of
long form, and has superlative gray eyes in it. Not what is called a
beautiful man; nor yet, by all appearance, what is called a happy.
On the contrary, the face bears evidence of many sorrows, as they are
termed, of much hard labor done in this world; and seems to anticipate
nothing but more still coming. Quiet stoicism, capable enough of what
joy there were, but not expecting any worth mention; great unconscious
and some conscious pride, well tempered with a cheery mockery of
humor,--are written on that old face; which carries its chin well
forward, in spite of the slight stoop about the neck; snuffy nose rather
flung into the air, under its old cocked-hat,--like an old snuffy lion
on the watch; and such a pair of eyes as no man or lion or lynx of that
Century bore elsewhere, according to all the testimony we have.
"Those eyes," says Mirabeau, "which, at the bidding of his great soul,
fascinated you with seduction or with terror _(portaient, au gre de son
ame heroique, la seduction ou la terreur)_." [Mirabeau, _Histoire
Secrete de la Cour de Berlin,_ Lettre 28?? (24 September, 1786) p. 128
(in edition of Paris, 1821)]. Most excellent potent brilliant eyes,
swift-darting as the stars, steadfast as the sun; gray, we said, of the
azure-gray color; large enough, not of glaring size; the habitual
expression of them vigilance and penetrating sense, rapidity resting on
depth. Which is an excellent combination; and gives us the notion of a
lambent outer radiance springing from some great inner sea of light and
fire in the man. The voice, if he speak to you, is of similar
physiognomy: clear, melodious and sonorous; all tones are in it, from
that of ingenuous inquiry, graceful sociality, light-flowing banter
(rather prickly for most part), up to definite word of command, up to
desolating word of rebuke and reprobation; a voice "the clearest and
most agreeable in conversation I ever heard," says witty Dr. Moore.
[Moore, View of Society and Manners in France, Switzerland and Germany
(London, 1779), ii. 246.] "He speaks a great deal," continues the
doctor; "yet those who hear him, regret that he does not speak a good
deal more. His observations are always lively, very