The Canadian farmers are not over-burthened with sensibility, yet I have seen several of them shed tears when an eulogium was pronounced upon the immortal and generous-minded deliverer of their country.
"General Brock was killed close to the road that leads through Queenstown village, and an aged thorn bush now marks the place where he fell, when the fatal ball entered his vitals.

This spot may be called classic ground, for a view of it must awaken in the minds of all those who duly appreciate the greatness of his character, and are acquainted with the nature of his resources and exertions, feelings as warm and enthusiastic as the contemplation of monuments consecrated by antiquity can ever do." Nature had been very bountiful to Sir Isaac Brock in those personal gifts which appear to such peculiar advantage in the army, and at the first glance the soldier and the gentleman were seen.

In stature he was tall,[105] erect, athletic, and well proportioned, although in his latter years his figure was perhaps too portly; and when a young man, at the head of his company of grenadiers, he attracted general observation by his martial presence.

His fine and benevolent countenance was a perfect index of his mind, and his manners were courteous, frank, and engaging.

Brave, liberal, and humane; devoted to his sovereign, and loving his country with romantic fondness; in command so gentle and persuasive, yet so firm, that he possessed the rare faculty of acquiring both the respect and the attachment of all who served under him.