after treated not only with the attention of a guardian, but with the affectionate care of an indulgent father. The genius of Mr. Stanhope inclined him to a military life; and his wishes being made known to the Duke of York, his royal highness presented him to an ensigncy, without purchase, in the twenty-fifth regiment of infantry, then stationed at Gibraltar. There he served for some time under the command of the Duke of Kent, and by his punctuality in the discharge of professional duties, the integrity of his principles, and the mildness of his disposition, which tempered his extraordinary firm ness and intrepidity, acquired the esteem of his superiors, and the re. spect and friendship of his equals, On his return to England, he was promoted to a company in the fifty-second, commanded by General Moore. A long course of regimental duty, under such a leader, inspirited by his own military ardour, and improved by the strictest attention, and most perse. vering industry, gave him a perfect knowledge of the discipline and order of his own regiment. The merits of Captain Stanhope were not likely to be unnoticed, or undervalued by Sir John Moore, from whom he received the most satisfactory mark of his approba. tion, in being appointed one of his aids-de-camp. To that skilful of ficer he looked up, as to the perfect model of military excellence. He studied his theory, entered into his plans, and by the free and friendly intercourse which the kindness of the general allowed him, was enabled to familiarize himself with the different branches VOL. LI,

In attending

of the military art. that general to Sicily, he had an opportunity of increasing his knowledge of the world, as well as extending his military pursuits; and on his return from that country, was promoted to the rank of major, in the sixth garrison-batta. lion then in Ireland. Major Stanhope's knowledge of his profession was well known to his grace the late Duke of Richmond, who immediately placed him on his staff, but at the same time kindly dispensed with his services at the castle, that, by the habit of discharging his regimental duties, he might further pursue that perfection which he was ambitious to attain. In the garrison-battalion, however, he did not long remain, but exchanged into the fiftieth regiment, and obtained permission to accom pany his gallant general to Sweden, where the inactivity of the army little corresponded with his anxi ous wish of being engaged in ac tive service.

He returned from Sweden with General Moore, and landed with him in Portugal soon after the battle of Vimiera, where he was ordered to join the first battalion of his regiment, Major Hill having been disabled by a wound. He accompanied the army in its laborious march from Lisbon, and the borders of Castile, and during the toilsome and melancholy period of its retreat to Corunna. On the arrival of the British troops at that place, the fiftieth was one of the regiments destined to form the outposts, and was stationed next to the fourth regiment, on the right of the British position.

Major Stanhope, though at that 3 B moment

moment suffering severely in his health from the fatigues and hard. ships he had undergone, firmly rejected the proposal of his retiring into sick quarters, though this was strongly recommended by the medical staff, and warmly advised by his general and friend. Against Lord W. Bentinck's brigade, as being our weakest point, the principal efforts of the enemy were directed. The event is well known. The fiftieth, commanded by Majors Napier and Stanhope, charged the French with the same invincible bravery, which they so conspicuously displayed in the battle of Vimiera, drove them with great slaughter from the village of Elvina, and forced them to retreat on their own position. General Moore, in person, saw and animated their valour and their success, and "well done the fiftieth! well done my majors!" was the last expression of encouragement and approbation that he uttered on the field. At this period Major Stanhope fell by a musquet-shot; Major Napier soon after wounded and taken prisoner; and the regiment having expended their ammunition, and being greatly diminished in numbers, reluctantly obeyed the order to retire.

was

His body was brought from the field by his mournful companions in arms, and was interred the same evening in the presence of his brother, if not with the solemnities, at least with the unfeigned reality of woe.

During the life-time of Mr. Pitt, Major Stanhope spent the intervals of repose from military duty in the society of that illustrious statesman, to whom he looked up, almost as to a being of superior order, with an affectionate respect,

mingled with every endearing sen. timent of attachment, gratitude, and duty. Nor was his regard unreturned and if his clearness of conception, his assiduity of re. search, and capability of labour, were highly valued by his great protector, not less forcibly did his singular purity and benignity of mind, his perfect disinterested. ness, his fidelity, sincerity, elera. tion of sentiment, and exalted honour, speak to his praise in that breast which was the chosen seat of virtues like his own. Few persons had an opportunity of es timating the full value of his solid and various worth. Major Stan. hope was sensible that he did not possess the advantages and accom. plishments of a scholar; and this conviction, as it made a deep im. pression on his mind, kept him often silent, and always reserved in mixed society, and his natural mo. desty, supported by a real magna. nimity of spirit, induced him to avoid the common opportunities of shining, and to reserve the exer. tion and display of his talents, till some worthy occasion should call him forth in the service of his country. Such qualities were na. turally associated with that calm spirit of heroic bravery, which is at once the fundamental strength and the chief ornament of a soldier's character. With him courage was not an effort, but an habit; not, as in lower souls, the mere effect of animal instinct, but the happy result of natural spirit, tempered and refined by deliberate reflection. It was such as supports the Christian in danger, calamity, and death; such as those who surrounded the couch of Moore, admired in their dying chief.

From

From the time of his entering the army, his sister, Lady Hester Stanhope, was his constant and dearest companion, and every moinent he could spare from superior duties, he fondly dedicated to her society, whose greatest happiness consisted in witnessing the hopes Mr. Pitt entertained of his professional success, the approbation which he bestowed on his conduct, and the affection with which he regarded him.

It would be a vain and painful office to indulge our imagination in contemplating the career of glory which, if fate had spared him, he might have ran-but he doubtless would have fulfilled the high expectations which might not unreasonably be entertained of the adopted son of such a statesman as Mr. Pitt, and the elevé of such an officer as Sir John Moore.

Major Stanhope's regiment were best able to form an estimate of his merits, and they strongly testified their regard for his memory, and their sorrow for his loss, by the marked, because unusual compliment, of a general mourning for him and his brave companion, Ma. jor Napier, who is since happily restored to life and liberty, to dis. pel the agonizing fears of an amia. ble and affectionate family, and who can bear witness to the worth of his lamented friend in the fatal but victorious field.

"I decus i nostrum, melioribus utere

satis."

Extracts from Memoirs of Wil liam Paley, D. D. By George Wilson Meadley.

Young Paley, as he grew up, was educated under his father's

He

eye. At school he soon surpassed his early class-fellows, by the exercise of greater abilities, united to a more studious disposition, than usually belongs to boys of that age; and, by successive promotions from one class to another, at length ob tained pre-eminence over all. The son of the second master, indeed, was for awhile his competitor; during which, as the masters in the upper and lower school, at stated times, exchanged departments, he found himself or his rival invariably raised to the head of the class, as they went up with their lessons to the father of the one or the other respectively; a circumstance which he often mentioned, as a striking instance of the absurd partiality of parents for their children. did not, at this period, distinguish himself by any sort of composi tions, even as school-exercise, but was considered a very fair, though by no means an accomplished, classical scholar. He was even then more attentive to things than to words, and ardent in the pursuit of knowledge of every kind. He was curious in making inquiries about mechanism, whenever he had an opportunity of conversing with any workmen, or others capable of affording him satisfactory information. In his mind he was uncommonly active; in his body quite the reverse. He was a bad horseman, and incapable of those exertions which required adroit. ness in the use of his hands or feet. He never engaged in the ordinary sports of school-boys; but was which he did not then excel, though fond of angling, an amusement in

his attachment to it seems to have continued through life. He was much esteemed by his school-fel_ 3 B 2

lows,

lows, as possessing many good qualities, and being at all times a pleasant and lively companion. To the great amusement of the young circle, he would often successfully mimic the tricks of a quack-doctor or mountebank, recommending his nostrums to the crowd. Having one year attended the assizes at Lancaster, he was so much taken with the proceedings in the criminal court, that, on his return to school, he used to preside there as a judge, and to have the other boys brought up before him as prisoners for trial.

Soon after he had completed his fifteenth year, young Paley accompanied his father to Cambridge, for the purpose of admission, and was admitted, Nov. 16th, 1758, a sizar of Christ's College; a college otherwise highly respectable from -the members who had done it honour, but sufficiently immortalized by the illustrious name of Milton alone. He performed this journey on horseback, and used often thus humourously to describe the disasters which befel him on the road: I was never a good horseman, and when I followed my father on a poney of my own, on my first journey to Cambridge, I fell off seven times: I was lighter than I am now, and my falls were not likely to be serious, so that I soon began to care very little about them. My father, though at first a good deal alarmed at my awkwardness, afterwards became so accus tomed to it, that, on hearing a thump, he would only turn his head half aside, and say, 'Get up, and take care of thy money, lad."

Soon after his return to Craven, as the classics alone were taught at Giggleswick school, he went for

mathematical instruction to Mr. William Howarth, a teacher of some eminence at Ditchford, near Topcliffe, about three miles from Ripon, under whose care he laid an excellent foundation of know. ledge in algebra and geometry. During his residence at this place, the attention of the whole neigh. bourhood was taken up by the discovery of a human skeleton at Knaresborough, which accidentally led to unfold the circumstances of a murder, committed there four. teen years before. This stimulated his curiosity to attend the county assizes at York, where he was present in the court, August 3d, 1759, when Eugene Aram, a man of ex traordinary learning and acuteness, was tried for the murder of Da. niel Clark, and convicted on the circumstantial evidence of Richard Houseman, an accomplice, and of his own wife. The evidence brought forward on this occasion, and the ingenious defence of the prisoner, seem to have made a for. cible impression on young Paley's mind. When he returned to Gig. gleswick, a few weeks after this, before his departure for college, he entertained and astonished all around him, by his spirited harangues and judicious remarks on this important trial. Even then, young as he was, he paid particu. lar attention to cases of law, and, in speaking of them, was singu larly fluent and nervous in his lan. guage. He scems, indeed to have attributed the conviction of the prisoner, in a great measure, to the ingenuity of his defence; for, many years after, when he was conversing with a few friends about the lives of some obscure and undeserving persons having been inserted in the

Biographia Britannica, and one of the party exclaimed-" Eugene Aram, for instance!"-" Nay," replied he, " a man that has been hanged has some pretension to notoriety; and especially a man who has got himself hanged by his own cleverness, which Eugene Aram certainly did."

In October, 1759, he became a resident member of Christ's College; and on the first evening after his departure for Cambridge, his father observed to a pupil, who was then his only boarder, "My son is now gone to college,-he'll turn out a great man-very great indeed, I'm certain of it; for he has by far the clearest head I ever met with in my life." When he commenced his residence in the university, he was little more than sixteen; an age which he fre. quently mentioned afterwards, as too carly to encounter the dangers of a college life. But he always had an old look, which, together with the superior strength and vigour of his understanding, impressed his companions with the idea of a much maturer age.

In his second year at college, when his character became more generally known, and the number of his acquaintances increased, he was often engaged in company during the latter part of the day. But still reading was not neglected, and, amid scenes which would have dissipated any other man's attention, he displayed a most extraordinary concentration of mind. His room (for he seldom locked his door, either by night or day) was the frequent rendezvous of the idle young men of his college; yet, notwithstanding all their noise and

nonsense, he might be often seen in one corner, as composed and attentive to the subject in which he was engaged, as if he had been quite alone.

He was never remarkable for early rising, but was generally the last at morning-prayers, “running," to use the poet's phrase, "with hose ungartered,

"To reach the chapel ere the psalms began."

And, of the leave of absence given twice a-week to the undergraduates, he uniformly took advantage on the first and second days, when he lay in bed till a late hour 'in the forenoon.

On the death of King George II. Mr. Paley wrote a few lines in imitation of the poems attributed to Ossian, then much in vogue; and, as this tribute was excluded from appearing amongst the poetical effusions of the university, by reason of the style which he adopted, he afterwards inserted it in some periodical miscellany, under the signature of Tommy Potts, which was a cant name with him at the time.

He discovered an early propensity to study the human character, as displayed among the lower ranks of society, particularly in their pastimes and sports. This led him to frequent the fair held annually at Stirbitch, a village about two miles from Cambridge, where, mixing with the crowd, at puppetshows or other exhibitions, he watched the various changes of countenance in the spectators, and listened attentively to their remarks. In forming from thence an opinion of their charcaters, 3 B 3 though