the smallest reluctance. Calm in temper, and most resolute in judgment, he was parsimonious to his own person, but unbounded in his expenditure upon others. To him money seems to have been only valuable in proportion to the good it enabled him to render his fellow-creatures. His talents were the most useful, but not shining; he wrote with much good sense, and but little elegance; for his education was deficient, and his acquirements in every respect attained by the force of inherent power and constitutional perseverance. In his principles there was nothing speculative; his opinions were founded upon accurate observation, and all his statements were the evidence of facts. His eagerness to ameliorate the wretchedness of the prisoner, never made him the less anxious to correct vice, and deter from crime: he reformed, while he punished; and insinuated the charms of order into the atonement of licentiousness. Discipline, strict, invariable, but gentle discipline, softened by every comfort which is compatible with the circumstances of the sufferer, was uniformly the doctrine he desired to inculcate. Wherever he went, his reputation was the highest: at home and abroad, state prisons and public hospitals were thrown open to his touch with grateful alacrity; the most exalted flattered him with respect, the lowest hailed him with veneration; and he moved about in his own department, by common consent, the most influential censor of the age.

Burke pronounced a most splendid panegyric upon the motives and incidents of his life: it was introduced into a speech delivered at the election of Bristol, for 1780, and ran thus:-"I cannot name this gentleman without remarking that his labours and writings have done much to open the eyes and hearts of mankind. He has visited all Europe-not to survey the sumptuousness of palaces, or the stateliness of temples; not to make accurate measurements of the remains of ancient grandeur, or to form a scale of the curiosities of modern art; not to collect medals, or collate manuscripts ;-but to dive into the depths of dungeons, to plunge into the infection of hospitals, to survey the mansions of sorrow and pain, to take the gauge and dimensions of misery, depression, and contempt; to remember the forgotten, to attend the neglected, to visit the forsaken; to collate and compare the distresses of all men, in all countries, and edit the mis

fortunes of the human race. His plan is original; and it is as full of genius, as it is of humanity. It was a voyage of discovery; a circumnavigation of charity. Already the benefit of his exertions is felt more or less in every country: I hope he will anticiHe pate his reward by seeing all its effects realized in his own. will receive, not by retail, but in gross, the reward of those who visit the prisoner; as he has so forestalled and monopolized this branch of charity, that there will be, I trust, little room to merit by such acts of benevolence hereafter."

EARL HOWE, K.G.

THE monument erected by the gratitude of his country to perpetuate the reputation of this successful Admiral,* stands under the east window of the south transept in St. Paul's Cathedral. In front is placed a statue of his lordship, leaning on a telescope, and guarded by a lion couched, the figure of British strength and security. Above, on a rostrated column, sits Britannia with her trident, and to her right below, History appears in the act of recording the more prominent of his Lordhip's

In the south aisle of Westminster Abbey, is a monument to the memory of GEORGE AUGUSTUS VISCOUNT HOWE, and elder brother to the subject of this sketch. It consists of a large heavy tablet, surmounted by his lordship's coat of arms, affixed to a military trophy, before which a female figure reclines in the expression of grief. It was designed by B. Stewart, and executed by Scheemakers, but to neither the one artist nor the other is much praise due for the performance. The inscription details his Lordship's claim to notice with sufficient clearness.

The Province of Massachusets Bay, in New England,
By an order of the Great and General Court,
Bearing date February the 1st, 1659,

Caused this monument to

actions, while Victory, leaning forward over the shoulders of History, deposits a branch of palm in the lap of Britannia.

Be erected to the Memory of George Lord
Viscount Howe, Brigadier-General of his Majesty's
Forces in North America, who was slain July 6th, 1758,
On the march to Ticonderago, in the 34th year
Of his age; in testimony of the sense they had of his
Services and Military Virtues, and of the affection
Their Officers and Soldiers bore to his command.
He lived respected, and beloved; the publick regretted
His loss; to his family he is irreparable.

Near at hand, but in a lower range, is a monument to the memory of Colonel Robert Townshend, another gallant officer, who also lost his life at Ticonderago, under circumstances which greatly excited the public sympathy. It consists of a sarcophagus richly decorated with military emblems, and supported by two Indians, who are admirably carved after the style of the ancient Caryatides. In front is a scene in basso-relievo, on which is a fine representation of the place and manner in which the Colonel fell. Altogether it is a very effective and masterly piece of work: R. Adams, architect, and B. and S. Carter, sculptors, were the artists employed upon it. The inscription reads as follows:

This monument was erected

By a disconsolate Parent,
The Lady Viscountess Townshend,
To the memory of her fifth son,

The Hon. Lieutenant-Colonel Roger Townshend,
Who was killed by a cannon ball,

On the 20th of July, 1759, in the 25th year of his age,
As he was reconnoitring the French Lines at Ticonderago,
In North America.

From the Parent, the Brother, and the Friend,
His social and amiable Manners,

His enterprising Bravery,

And the Integrity of his Heart,
May claim the tribute of affliction:
Yet, Stranger! weep not:
For though premature his death,
His life was glorious,
Enrolling Him with the names

of those Immortal Statesmen and Commanders,