Apart from his genius and his training, he was a country gentleman, and felt most at home when he was out of doors.
From Panshanger he wrote to Lady Derby: "How well I understand what you felt sitting on the top of the Pyrenees.

We men are but a sorry part of the creation.

Now and then there comes to us a breath out of another order of things; a sudden perception--coming we cannot tell how--of the artificial and contemptible existence we are all living; a longing to be out of it and have done with it--by a pistol-shot if nothing else will do.

I continually wonder at myself for remaining in London when I can go where I please, and take with me all the occupations I am fit for.
Alas! it is oneself that one wants really to be rid of.

If we did not ourselves share in the passions and follies that are working round us we should not be touched by them.