But he was a great man, unlike others, cast in a mould of his own.

Without the least affectation of unconventionality, and indeed under a formal appearance, he was profoundly unconventional.

His tastes, whether in literature, in art, in the choice of society, in the choice of his way of life, were utterly his own, unaffected by any standard but that which he himself established.

Without subtlety of interpretation, his judgments cut deep into the heart of things.

You could not hear him speak, could not be in his presence, without feeling the weight of his personality.
A statesman, if ever there was one, he was never given the opportunity of proving himself in administration; he can be judged only by his gifts in counsel and by his power of guiding action.