by higher feelings than mere popularity. He had passed the ordinary limits of life; and at a period when almost all of his generation were laid in the grave, or only surviving in exhaustion -he, in his seventieth year, formed the grand design of illustrating the four ages of the Revelations. He designed to devote a picture on the largest scale to the Patriarchal era; one to the Jewish; one to the Christian; and one to the mighty consummation of the Apocalypse. Of these, however, he only lived to execute the two latter. He died at his house, 14, Newmanstreet, Oxford-street, on Friday, March 10, 1820, aged eightyone years and five months.

His body lay in state in the Apartments of the Royal Academy until the 15th instant, when it was publicly removed to St. Paul's. The interment was attended by the Academicians and a long train of the nobility and gentry, friends, patrons, and admirers. A plain stone informs the visitor of the spot where he lies in the vaults.

GENERAL WOLFE.

IN the northern aisle of Westminster Abbey, and near the chapel of St. Erasmus, stands a commanding monument to the fame of the young hero who forms the subject of this sketch. The design represents the imposing story of his death in the very moment of victory; and the manner in which it has been executed has been repeatedly admired, and highly applauded. Nor is the propriety of the representation to be disputed, provided the inspector be content to overlook the General's nakedness, and the allegorical introduction of a figure of Glory in a tragical scene, which her presence in no respect deepens, while it tends to weaken a veracious moral, by confusing the imaginary with the real. The General is

represented in his last agonies, pressing his hand upon the wound in his breast, which caused his death, and supported on the hip of a grenadier, who, with one hand, gently raises his commander's falling arm, and with the other points to the figure of Glory de scending from Heaven to crown him with laurel. Upon the pyra mid, in relief, a Highland sergeant is introduced standing with folded hands, and thus silently contemplating the wreck of youth and valour;-the pictorial attitude and expression of this figure has been repeatedly noticed with merited applause.—A view of Quebec is also faithfully introduced, in high relief, upon the pedestal, in which the natural difficulties of the place, and the consequent dangers of the service are boldly described. The nearer a work of this kind comes home to the life and actions of its subject, the more it approaches that end for which the expenses of its erection have been incurred; namely, the commemoration of actual merits. These, to be effectively told, must be personally figured; and no allegory or learned emblems can illustrate actual desert half so well as a natural sketch. For these reasons, both the artist who designs, and the statuary who executes a monument like this, deserve a considerable share of praise; they evince solid talent; and, even though the workmanship were reversely as rude as here it is positively masterly, it were still preferable, both for the truth and facts displayed, to the more elaborate intent of many other performances, which are meant to excite the same feelings by more artificial means. The effect, that to be understood, must be studied, upon that ground alone loses half the number of its admirers. The remains of General Wolfe were buried at Greenwich: in the Abbey the inscription is simply cutfined to the following words:

"To the memory of James Wolfe, Major-general and Commander-in-chief of the British land forces, on an expedition against Quebec, who, after surmounting by ability and valour all obstacles of art and nature, was slain in the moment of victory, on the 13th of September, 1759:

The King and Parliament of Great Britain dedicate
This Monument.

It has been truly observed that a man is seldom truly famous

until the grave has closed upon his dust, and he is beyond the enjoyment of honour. To this axiom, perhaps, it may also be added, that of those who deserve much from the world, scarcely an individual can safely indicate the particular service or merit for which posterity may be pleased to remember his life. The observation will be found to bear with truth upon many illustrious. cases; and involve in its application the warrior, the statesman, the author, and the philosopher. Our Saxon king, Alfred, is more remembered for his romantic adventure as a harper in the Danish camp, than for the wisdom which led him to found and endow the University of Oxford; and his simplicity in forgetting to turn the cakes over the peasant's fire, beside which he found shelter from his enemies, is repeated an hundred fold for one mention that is made of that incomparable institution of his devising, the Trial by Jury. Milton fancied his Paradise Regained,' the finest of his works, and Pope spoke in the greatest pride of his Essay on Man.' Gallileo is more known for the discovery of the earth's motion round the sun, than the more useful invention of the pendulum, by which we are daily enabled to set our clock in movement and economise time. The list may be easily extended, and even more strongly exemplified; but it shall only be added, that what a long series of actions often fails to produce, a single achievement will effect. This was in some degree the case with General Wolfe, who is celebrated, though somewhat unjustly, more for his death than for his life; and who found the highest honours of victory upon the summit of a rock, where he only looked for the mortification of defeat.

He was the son of Lieutenant-general Edward Wolfe, and was born at Westerham, in Kent, during the year 1726. The profession of his father deciding the course of his life, he entered the army at an early age, and attracted favourable notice on account of his spirited conduct at the battle of Lafelte, before he had reached his twentieth year. The next scene in which he acquired personal distinction, was the battle-field of Minden, after which he served with marked credit at the reduction of Louisburg, by General Pepperell and Sir Peter Warren. But his reputation. was by no means public: he passed through the various degrees of the service with a character highly respected by his superiors, and uniformly appreciated by his comrades; still his talents were