Jonathan Clements liked to joke that he was born at 6:00am and on January 2nd, “thus establishing a lifetime habit of starting early.” But he truly did get a fast start and seemed to waste no time.

Jonathan—who passed away this week—discovered his love of writing early on. He described his English boarding school as a “brutal” environment: “cold dormitories, disgusting food, endless bullying.” But that was also where he began to write, earning a spot on the staff of the school magazine.

With fondness, he recalled one of his first articles, titled “Organ Transplant.” It described how the school had spent an inordinate sum on a new organ while neglecting other facilities. “Somehow, I managed to get it published,” Jonathan said, “which earned me the enmity of a host of people. But in many ways, that was my entrée to becoming a journalist.”

Later, Jonathan became editor of the student newspaper at Cambridge University and, after graduation, spent time at Forbes before joining the Journal, where he became the paper’s first personal-finance columnist and wrote more than 1,000 columns between 1994 and 2008. After a stint at a wealth management firm, Jonathan returned to journalism, developing HumbleDollar to provide investors with his signature plainspoken guidance.

Jonathan was one of a kind and will be greatly missed. Jason Zweig, Jonathan’s successor at the Journal, put it best: “I have just lost a friend, and so have you.”

Perhaps more than anything, Jonathan was known for his generosity. He happily gave of his time and his wisdom. I experienced that personally. In 2016, I was unhappy in my job, and—for reasons I can’t fully explain—decided I should reach out to Jonathan for advice. I was amazed when he replied to my email the next morning, then spent a further hour on the phone. It changed everything for me. I wonder how many others Jonathan helped along the way.

This generous spirit formed the foundation of HumbleDollar, which Jonathan founded at year-end 2016. With his well-known reputation, Jonathan could’ve recruited professional journalists. Instead, he invited amateur writers to contribute to the site and happily took on the task of editing piles of submissions.

In his own writing, a favorite topic was the intersection of money and happiness. The reality is that Jonathan was a fundamentally happy person. He signed off every email the same way: “cheers.” Even after he received his diagnosis, he was never bitter and never complained, even when others expected him to.

Last fall, he wrote: “I’ve been endeavoring to approach these final months as a cheerful warrior, making the most of each day and avoiding anger over my grim prognosis…I’m not grieving my own demise.”

After he died, Jonathan’s wife, Elaine, posted a final message: “I consider myself beyond fortunate,” he wrote. “I had spent almost my entire adult life doing what I love and surrounded by those that I love. Who could ask for more?”

In many ways, it was the simple things that brought joy for Jonathan. Though he and Elaine traveled more in his final year, he emphasized the value of simple pleasures: “that first cup of coffee, exercise, friends and family…” He got special joy from living an eight-minute walk from his daughter and grandchildren in Philadelphia and, despite his illness, was able to see his son get married in London last December. That was how Jonathan measured wealth.

Part of Jonathan’s formula for happiness may have been his even-keeled outlook on the world. I doubt readers ever detected an inkling of his political leanings. I certainly never did. In recent years, Jonathan co-hosted a podcast with Peter Mallouk, the president of Creative Planning. Peter noted that it was Jonathan who named the show: “Down the Middle.” Jonathan’s even-tempered outlook helped investors stay focused on what really mattered.

I never heard Jonathan say a critical word about anyone, but he certainly had strong feelings about the investment industry. In that way especially, he was ahead of his time. Jonathan began preaching the virtues of index funds back in the mid-1990s, when they represented just a fraction of investor dollars. But Jonathan knew he had the facts on his side, having reported on the mutual fund industry long enough to have seen their pattern of underperformance up close. Jason Zweig lauded Jonathan’s persistence: “Brokerage and fund executives hated what Jonathan wrote. He persisted through a nonstop blizzard of complaint and criticism.”

Index funds were one pillar of Jonathan’s philosophy. Frugality was another. “I credit the frugality to what I call our big family story,” he said. “When my great-great grandfather died in 1888, the newspapers said that he was one of the richest men in England. All that money was inherited by my great-grandmother Lillian, and she lived the Downton Abbey lifestyle.” From there, “the fortune was blown in short order.”

“That was the story I grew up with, and the message was clear: You’ve got to be careful about money. My two brothers, my sister and I are all very different people, but all of us are frugal, and I credit this great family story.”

A point of pride for Jonathan was that he successfully conveyed those values to his children, though he worried sometimes that he’d conveyed them “too well.”

Another key pillar of Jonathan’s philosophy: humility. That was a personal characteristic—he often talked about “squeaking” into Cambridge University—but it extended to his view of investment markets as well. Hence the name HumbleDollar.

In his early years at the Journal, Jonathan observed the lackluster results of “sophisticated” financial strategies. So in the advice he gave, and with his own investments, Jonathan’s approach was simple: He took the long view. He never tried to outsmart the market, recognizing that as a fool’s errand, and never let the news of the day worry him. “I’ve always had a strong faith in capitalism and in the stock market,” he said last fall. I’ve never had any doubt during a market decline that share prices would recover. I’ve almost always had at least 80% in stocks. Right now, I’m at 92%.”

At the end of the day, though, investing wasn’t just about dollars and cents. “What is the reason for all this saving and investing?” Jonathan asked in his final column at the Journal. It was, he said, to enable us to enjoy our time here.

For his wit and his wisdom, his generosity and good cheer, Jonathan Clements will be greatly missed.

A postscript: Tomorrow on HumbleDollar, I’ll share remembrances from a group of Jonathan’s longtime friends and colleagues.