the end, in a secretarial sort of way, was no doubt a
saving mercy.

His was one of the busiest literary and journalistic careers of the day;
and when he died he left a void--great, it is true, yet in one respect
easily enough filled. But it was little to his friends that his humour
was not of the brightest and lightest, for his heart was of the warmest,
as Mr. George Meredith set forth in the October number of the "Cornhill
Magazine," to which he contributed a noble tribute--"To a Friend
Recently Lost, T. T."--a sonnet beginning:--

"When I remember, Friend, whom lost I call
Because a man beloved is taken hence,
The tender humour and the fire of sense
In your good eyes: how full of heart for all;
And chiefly for the weaker by the wall,
You bore that light of sane benevolence:"

The _Punch_ men, themselves, in a whole-page obituary (July 24th, 1880),
bore graceful testimony to his personal worth. "That he is not with us,"
they said, "is hard to imagine.... A cultivated man of letters, an
admirable scholar, he was as free from pedantry as he was incapable of
idleness. From first to last he was, in the highest and best sense,
'Thorough.' ... Quick to detect and appreciate talent, he was ready in
every way and on all occasions to hold out a helping hand to a
beginner." Thus feelingly they spoke of "the dear friend" they had lost.
For in his death they forgot the little annoyances they had suffered
from the tampering with their lines and spoiling their points, of which
they had sometimes had occasion to complain; with other drawbacks
belonging to an essentially fidgety nature. It may safely be said, that
if he left a hard task to his successor to work up the reputation of
_Punch_ as a comic paper, he did not at least render it difficult for
him to make his mark by comparison.

No new humorist appeared in the volumes for 1845, although a poet of
eminence found expression on a single occasion. To one Kelly is to be
credited some humorous verses on "Dunsinane;" to J. Rigby, an Irish
Song; to Leech, his Harlequinade verses (which do not aspire even to the
dignity of a "trifle" or doggerel); to Watts Phillips, a few articles of
little importance; and to J. King, the verses in which an "Exiled
Londoner" (p. 147, Vol. IX.) apostrophises his beloved Babylon. The one
contribution of importance was that of Mr. Coventry Patmore.

This was written in hot indignation of generous youth (he was but
twenty-two years old