In conclusion, it is due to the memory of this excellent man to declare that, eminent and undisputed as were his public virtues, he was no less estimable in private life.  In his own family he was the object of the warmest affection, and his servants carefully preserved relics of their dear master, as they styled him to their dying day.  His cares and anxieties had no reference to the wealth he should amass, but to the sum of human misery he might relieve; and towards the close of his brief career, as the prospect of increasing honors and emoluments opened to his view, he contemplated his good fortune only as the means of diffusing felicity, of drying the tear of affliction.  Indeed, so totally devoid was he of every mercenary consideration, that although he enjoyed an ample income from his appointments,[109] by which at least the purchase of his commissions might have been repaid, yet he left literally nothing but his fair name behind him.  Some of his nearest relatives have since been cut off more prematurely, and far more cruelly, than himself; but those who still survive him possess the never-failing consolation which arises from the remembrance of his virtues, and from the reflection that, though his blessed spirit fled early from this world, they may meet again in the mansions of futurity.

Though the dead heed not human praise, yet the living act wisely in commemorating the fall of a distinguished chief—­the example is never thrown away—­and on this occasion it is gratifying to reflect, that every posthumous honor was paid to the memory of one who had merited the distinction so well.  A public monument,[110] having been decreed by the imperial parliament, was raised a few years since in St. Paul’s, and a view of it is said to have awakened in an astonished Indian more surprise and admiration than any thing he witnessed in England.[111] In consequence of an address[112] from the commons of Upper Canada to the prince regent, a munificent grant of 12,000 acres of land in that province was bestowed on the four surviving brothers of Sir Isaac Brock, who, in addition, were allowed a pension of L200 a year for life, by a vote of the imperial parliament.  To “the hero of Upper Canada,” as he is still termed in that country, the provincial legislature erected a lofty column[113] on Queenstown heights, to which his remains, and those of his gallant aide-de-camp, were removed from Fort George in solemn procession, on the 13th of October, 1824.[114] Although twelve years had elapsed since the interment, the body of the general had undergone little change, his features being nearly perfect and easily recognized, while that of Lieut.-Colonel M’Donell was in a complete mass of decomposition.  One of his regimental companions, Colonel Fitzgibbon, in transmitting a detail of the ceremonies of the day, thus pathetically expressed himself:  “Nothing, certainly, could exceed the interest manifested by the people of the province upon the occasion; and numbers