In stature, Sir Charles Lyell[157] was rather above the middle height, somewhat squarely built, though not at all stout, with clear-cut, intellectual features, and a forehead, broad, high, and massive. He would have been a man of commanding presence, if his extremely short sight had not obliged him to stoop and peer into anything he wished to observe. This defect, in addition to the weakness of his eyes was a serious impediment in field work. As Professor Ramsay remarked in 1851, after spending a few days with him in the south of England, he required people to point things out to him, and would have been unable to make a geological map, "but understood all when explained, and speculated thereon well."[158] This defect of sight, according to Sir J. W. Dawson, who had been his companion in more than one excursion in Canada, was at times even a source of danger. The expression of his face was one of thoughtful power and gracious benignity.[159] "In his work, Lyell was very methodical, beginning and ending at fixed hours. Accustomed to make use of the help of others on account of his weak sight, he was singularly unconscious of outward bodily movement, though highly sensitive to pain. When dictating, he was often restless, moving from his chair to his sofa, pacing the room, or sometimes flinging himself full length on two chairs, tracing patterns on the floor, as some thoughtful or eloquent passage flowed from his lips. But though a rapid writer and dictator, he was sensitively conscientious in the correction of his manuscript, partly from a strong sense of the duty of accuracy, partly from a desire to save his publisher the expense of proof corrections. Hence passages once finished were rarely altered, even after many years, unless new facts arose."