well-proportioned, his lips full and high-coloured; his eyes were
grey, sometimes arrogant but usually amiable in expression.
His personality corresponded perfectly to his appearance. His
countenance showed his character, and his character was a witness
to the truth of his physiognomy. Nothing was contradictory,
perfect was the harmony between the inner and the outer man,
between the nobility of thought and the simple dignity,
well-poised and graceful. Among the great ones of this earth, he
was like a star in heaven. Every line proclaimed "I am a prince
and a man unique."

It was for his bearing rather than his beauty that he commanded
universal admiration. In a stable he would have looked like an
image in a temple. In a hall he was the decoration. Whereever his
body was, there, too, was his spirit, ready for the demands of the
hour. He was singularly joyous and nicely tempered in speech with
so much personal magnetism that he could mollify any enemy if he
could only meet him face to face. His dress was always rich and
appropriate. He was skilful in horsemanship, in archery, and in
tennis, but his chief amusement was the chase. He liked to linger
at the table and demanded good serving but was really moderate in
his tastes, as often he neglected pheasant for a bit of Mayence
ham or salted beef. Oaths and abuse were never heard from him. To
all alike his speech was courteous even when there was nothing to
be gained.

"Never, I assert, did falsehood pass his lips, his mouth was equal
to his seal and his spoken word to his written. Loyal as fine gold
and whole as an egg." Chastellain repeats himself somewhat in
the profusion of his eulogy, but such are the main points of his