Whatever impression such anecdotes may convey, one of his chief characteristics was a very modest appreciation of himself. “His humility,” said Dr. Jennings, “like a deep shade, set off his other graces and virtues, and made them shine with greater lustre.” And of those attributes of his character of which others thought most highly, he thought very inconsiderably. And to such a character is often allied that which is very noticeable in him, a very grateful sense of all favours conferred upon him. There was nothing narrow in his mind, he had a great width of thought and a great width of love: although, as we have seen, a Nonconformist by strong conviction, judging the communion to which he belonged as favourable to civil and religious freedom, and regarding the service as most in harmony with what he considered the simplicity of the Gospel, he was on terms of friendship with many other communions, and especially with several of the prelates, ministers, and members of the Established Church. It would be expected, although this is not invariably the case, that a mind so richly stored, united to so ready an eloquence, would shine in conversation, and this was the case. It is said that in conversation his wit sparkled; his biographer says, “It was like an ethereal flame, ever vivid and penetrating;” but he had an aversion to satire. Referring to the pictures he sometimes introduces, illustrating the vices and follies of his age, he utterly disclaims the idea that in them he has attempted to portray any personal character. “I would not,” he says, “willingly create needless pain or uneasiness to the most despicable figure among mankind; there are vexations enough among the beings of my species without my adding to the heap. When a reflecting glass shows the deformity of a face so plain as to point to the person, he will sooner be tempted to break the glass than reform his blemishes; but if I can find any error of my own happily described in some general character, I am then awakened to reform it in silence, without the public notice of the world, and the moral writer attains his noblest end.” He was not happy in the friendship of listeners, who took down with any accuracy the sayings which fell from him; and it is probable that in conversation, although rich and full, wide and wise, it was rather remarkable for these characteristics than for either its gaiety or its force.