were pallid and lank, his eyes sunken, his forehead overshadowed
by coarse straggling hairs, his teeth large and irregular,
though sound and brilliantly white, and his chin discoloured by
a tetter. His skin was of coarse grain, and sallow hue. Every
feature was wide of beauty, and the outline of his face reminded
you of an inverted cone.

And yet his forehead, so far as shaggy locks would allow it
to be seen, his eyes lustrously black, and possessing, in the
midst of haggardness, a radiance inexpressibly serene and
potent, and something in the rest of his features, which it
would be in vain to describe, but which served to betoken a mind
of the highest order, were essential ingredients in the
portrait. This, in the effects which immediately flowed from
it, I count among the most extraordinary incidents of my life.
This face, seen for a moment, continued for hours to occupy my
fancy, to the exclusion of almost every other image. I had
purposed to spend the evening with my brother, but I could not
resist the inclination of forming a sketch upon paper of this
memorable visage. Whether my hand was aided by any peculiar
inspiration, or I was deceived by my own fond conceptions, this
portrait, though hastily executed, appeared unexceptionable to
my own taste.

I placed it at all distances, and in all lights; my eyes were
rivetted upon it. Half the night passed away in wakefulness and
in contemplation of this picture. So flexible, and yet so
stubborn, is the human mind. So obedient to impulses the most
transient and brief, and yet so unalterably observant of the
direction which is given to it! How little did I then foresee