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It is not only like Irving, but like his books; and, though he looks as his books read, and looks like the name of his cottage, Sunnyside, — and looks like what the world thinks of him, yet a painter might have missed this look, and still have made what many would consider a likeness. He sits leaning his head on his hand, with the genial, unconscious, courtly composure of expression that he habitually wears; and still there is visible the couchant humor and philosophic inevitableness of perception which form the strong undercurrent of his genius. The happy temper and the strong intellect of Irving; the joyously indolent man and the arousably brilliant author, are both there. — N. P. Willis.