1806-1872
[Sidenote: Fitz-Patrick’s _Life of Lever_.]
“I found him seated at an open window, a bottle of claret at his right
hand, and the proof-sheets of _Lord Kilgobbin_ before him.... At the
date of our visit he looked a hale, hearty, laughter-loving man of
sixty. There was mirth in his gray eye, joviality in the wink that
twittered on his eyelid, saucy humour in his smile, and _bon-mot_,
wit, repartee, and rejoinder in every movement of his lips. His hair
very thin, but of a silky brown, fell across his forehead, and when
it curtained his eyes he would jerk back his head--this, too, at some
telling crisis in a narrative, when the particular action was just the
exact finish required to make the story perfect. Mr. Lever’s teeth were
all his own and very brilliant, and whether from accident or habit, he
flashed them on us in conjunction with his wonderful eyes, a battery
at once powerful and irresistible.... Mr. Lever made great use of his
hands, which were small and white and delicate as those of a woman.
He made play with them, threw them up in ecstasy, or wrung them in
mournfulness, just as the action of the moment demanded. He did not
require eyes or teeth with such a voice and such hands; they could tell
and illustrate the workings of his brain. He was somewhat careless
in his dress, but clung to the traditional high shirt-collar, merely
compromising the unswerving stock of the Brummell period.”