“Few men,” says his son Francis, “have died more generally or more sincerely lamented. All the newspapers of the time spontaneously burst forth in expressions of commendations of his character, and of regret at his loss, which was considered as premature, as he was only fifty-four years of age. He was of an active and cheerful disposition, possessing a fund of natural humour, and a most benevolent heart, which indeed carried him into excess, for he was so indiscriminate in his charities that he never passed a beggar without bestowing something. In his address he was polite, and in his manners and conversation so agreeable that he seemed to have been born and bred a gentleman. He was scarcely ever seen without a book or a pen in his hand, and his mind was ever occupied for some good purpose. With such qualities he could not fail to be beloved by all who knew him and he ranked among his friends, men of the first literary talents. As, from the multiplicity of his concerns, he was apt to be forgetful of his engagements, the great author, Dr Johnson, who had often ridiculed this propensity, made him the subject of one of his essays in ‘The Idler’ under the humorous character of ‘Jack Whirler.’ The delineation was, as it may be supposed, rather a caricature than a portrait, but the likeness in some of the features was just and appropriate,” and it may be interesting to reproduce it here.