was impossible; both wind and current were against him. Fear for the event, in such circumstances, would naturally preponderate in the bravest mind; and, at one o'clock, perceiving that, after three hours' endurance, the enemy's fire was unslackened, he began to despair of success; and thinking it became him to save what he could from the hopeless contest, he made signal for retreat. Nelson was now in all the excitement of action, pacing the quarter deck. A shot through the main-mast knocked the splinters about; and he observed to one of his officers, with a smile: "It is warm work; and this day may be the last to any of us at a moment:"and then stopping short at the gangway, added, with emotion-" But mark you! I would not be elsewhere for thousands." About this time the signal lieutenant called out, that No. 39, (the signal for discontinuing the action) was thrown out by the commander-in-chief. He continued to walk the deck, and appeared to take no notice of it. The signal officer met him at the next turn, and asked if he should repeat it. "No," he replied; "acknowledge it." Presently he called after him, to know if the signal for close action was still hoisted; and being answered in the affirmative, said, "Mind you keep it so." He now paced the deck, moving the stump of his lost arm in a manner which always indicated great emotion. "Do you know," said he to Mr. Ferguson, "what is shown on board the commander in chief? Number 39!" Mr. Ferguson asked what that meant.-" Why, to leave off action!" Then, shrugging up his shoulders, he repeated the words -" Leave off action? Now damn me if I do! You know, Foley," turning to the captain, "I have only one eye,-I have a right to be blind sometimes"-and then putting the glass to his blind eye, in that mood of mind which sports with bitterness, he exclaimed, "I really do not see the signal!" Presently he exclaimed, "Damn the signal! Keep mine for closer battle flying! That's the way I answer such signals. Nail mine to the mast.” ." Vol. ii. p. 121–124.

After the battle, as he left his ship, he said, in bitter sportiveness: 'Well, I have fought contrary to orders, and I shall perhaps be hanged. Never mind, let them!' But his services had been too eminent, his judgement too conspicuous, his success too signal, for his commander to express any thing but satisfaction, that day. The circumstances under which the battle ended in negotiation, and negotiation in peace, are well known, and we have not room to expatiate on them. Nelson was the negociator, as he had been the belligerent, and in a few hours he did more than a regular diplomatist would have accomplished in as many months. On his return home he was created a Viscount. His next expedition was not of his own choosing, nor in his own style. It was a sanguinary and disastrous attack on the French gun-boats at Boulogne; the Mosquito-fleet,' as Mr. Addington contemptuously designated them.

After the peace of Amiens, Nelson retired to a house which he had purchased at Merton, in Surrey, meaning to pass his days there with Sir William and Lady Hamilton. Sir William did

not long survive. He expired in his wife's arms, holding Nelson by the hand; and almost in his last words left her to his protection. On the renewal of hostilities, Nelson took the command of the blockading fleet off Toulon. On this station he continued more than two years, during which period he went on shore thrice only, each time on the king's business, and for not more than an hour. In January, 1805, the French fleet escared out of Toulon, and joining the Spanish, sailed to the West Indies. Nelson was then at Sardinia, and though scarcely twenty-four hours behind them, at the outset, so uncertain are operations by sea, that he pursued them in vain to Malta, to Barbary, through the Straits of Gibraltar, across the Atlantic, and back to Spain. From this unparalleled chase of more than seven thousand miles, full speed, (after a stagnation of blockade for eight and twenty months,) Nelson returned to England, in August, worn out by fatigue, depressed by anxiety, and irritated by ill success. On landing at Portsmouth, he first received certain intelligence of the return of the combined fleets to Europe. Sir Robert Calder had encountered them wes of Cape Finisterre, with an inferior force, had defeated them, and taken two ships of the line. He hurried away to Merton, to hide his sorrows with Lady Hamilton. But he was more miserable in retirement than he had been in the agony and paroxysm of expectation and disappointment. Lady Hamilton, perceiving the internal sufferings that consumed him, amidst affected cheerfulness, seconded his secret desire, though she appear. d to prompt it, by conjuring him again to offer his services to Government. He did so; his tender was accepted, and Nelson once more left his native country, to take the command of a fleet, destined to achieve the greatest naval victory on record. We shall lead our readers at once to the scene. Of course Mr. Southey lays out his whole strength to describe the last triumph of his hero.

On the 21st of October, while, in Germany, the cowardly and incapable General Mack was surrendering himself and his army alive into the hands of Buonaparte, in that very hour the naval arm of France was broken, and it remains crippled to this day. It was remarked at the time, that it must have been a most humiliating consideration to the insolent conqueror of Europe, that, when he was insulting his captives at Ulm, and tauntingly telling them, he had no ambition to extend his territory on the continent, he wanted only ships, colonies, and commerce; while the words were yet warm on his lips, the unseen arm of Nelson struck him dumb by this wonderful blow; and he never recovered his speech on the subject again. The particulars of this memorable fight off Cape Trafalgar, and the afflicting circumstances accompanying Nelson's fall, have been so fully and

so frequently published, that we need not lament the want of room for them here. The death-piece itself we must, however, give.

By this time all feeling below the breast was gone; and Nelson, having made the surgeon ascertain this, said to him: “You know I am gone. I know it. I feel something rising in my breast,"-putting his hand on his left side," which tells me so." And upon Beatty's inquiring whether his pain was very great? he replied, "So great, that he wished he was dead. Yet," said he, in a lower voice, "one would like to live a little longer too!" And after a few minutes, in the same under tone, he added: "What would become of poor Lady Hamilton if she knew my situation!" Next to his country, she occupied his thoughts Captain Hardy, some fifty minutes after he had left the cockpit, returned; and again taking the hand of his dying friend and commander, congratulated him on having gained a complete victory. How many of the enemy were taken he did not know, as it was impossible to perceive them distinctly :-but fourteen or fifteen at least. "That's well,” cried Nelson; "but I bargained for twenty." And then, in a stronger voice, he said: "Anchor, Hardy: anchor." Hardy, upon this, hinted that Admiral Collingwood would take upon himself the direction of affairs. " Not while I live, Hardy!" said the dying Nelson, ineffectually endeavouring to raise himself from the bed;" Do you anchor." His previous order for preparing to anchor had shown how clearly he foresaw the necessity of this. Presently, calling Hardy back, he said to him, in a low voice; "Don't throw me overboard:" and he desired that he might be burried by his parents, unless it should please the king to order it otherwise. Then, reverting to private feelings: "Take care of my dear Lady Hamilton, Hardy: take care of poor Lady Hamilton."-" Kiss me, Hardy," said he. Hardy knelt down, and kissed his cheek: and Nelson said, "Now I am satisfied. Thank God I have done my duty." Hardy stood over him in silence for a moment or two; then knelt again, and kissed his forehead. "Who is that?" said Nelson; and being informed, he replied, "God bless you, Hardy." And Hardy then left him-for ever.

Nelson now desired to be turned upon his right side, and said: "I wish I had not left the deck; for I shall soon be gone." Death was, indeed, rapidly approaching. He said to the chaplain: "Doctor, I have not been a great sinner:" and, after a short pause, "Remember that I leave Lady Hamilton, and my daughter Horatia, as a legacy to my country." His articulation now became difficult; but he was distinctly heard to say, "Thank God, I have done my duty" These words he had repeatedly pronounced; and they were the last words which he uttered. He expired at thirty minutes after four,-three / hours and a quarter after he had received his wound' Vol. ii. p. 261 -263.

On this affecting scene, which awakens feelings more connected with eternity than with time, we shall make no comments: but we cannot forego the painful obligation of saying, that there is something in it to regret besides the national loss of so great a man.

Mr. Southey has not given what is called a character of his hero, at the close of his narrative: we are sorry for this, because the omission of such a moral portrait, is a defect in a work, expressly recommended by the author himself to be made a manual for the young sailor, What Mr. Southey has omitted, we shall not presume to supply. We will only add briefly, that Nelson was a man of most original and comprehensive genius; his energies matured, experienced, concentrated, were incessantly directed to one point; and his amazing mind, inflamed by unbounded ambition, yet awed by a peculiar sense of religion, that rather haunted than governed him, exalted by enthusiastic patriotism, exasperated by remorseless hostility to France, rendered romantic by his insane attachment to Lady Hamilton, and latterly supported by the power and the purse of the nation;-at length accomplished all his heart's desire. There never was a commander who owed less to good fortune, or to the abilities of others, in the conception, superintendance, and general issue of his plans: at the same time, there never was a commander who more readily availed himself of good fortune, when she came in his way; nor one, under whom able officers had more frequent and signal opportunities of distinguishing themselves. With his death closed the most splendid era of the naval history of his country. It will be an age before there is work for another NELSON.

Art. VI. 1. Ode on the Deliverance of Europe. By J. H. Merivale, Esq. 8vo. pp. 12. price ls. 6d. Murray, 1814.

2. Buonaparte, a Poem. 8vo. pp. 15. price 1s. 6d. Murray, 1814. 3. A Song of Triumph. By William Sotheby. 4to. pp. 12. price 2s. 6d. Murray, 1814.

EFFUSIONS such as these have a claim upon attention beyond that of their intrinsic merit, so far as they may be considered as exhibiting in some degree, the nature of public feeling, and as affording at the same time, some intimations of the average quality of the poetic genius or taste now in currency, and which is ready to be excited by the provocative of occasion.-One is curious to see how far the deep-felt interest of passing events has the effect of stirring up the lyric fervour in minds of loftier powers, or how far themes such as these will be found to supply their own appropriate ideas to those of smaller compass and feebler energies. Productions which result from the ebullition of popular feeling, or which relate to the transactions of the day, cannot be expected to survive the emotions in which they had their birth. In order to suit these feelings, they must partake

of that exaggeration which characterizes the first impression. When the Poet usurps the office and the fame of the Orator, a transient impression remembered only in its effects, is all he can hope to secure. That poetry which will be read by the next generation, must anticipate the cool but just decisions of history, and partake of the elevation of character which regards the future as already acted in the consequences of the present, and the present, as sealed up and mingled with the past.

We have selected these poems, from many others, as possessing superior claims to attention. The Ode on the Deliverance of Europe' is by the author of a poem, entitled ' Orlando in Roncesvalles,' (now on our table,) and which displays a very cultivated taste.-Our readers shall judge for themselves of the merits of this production.

The hour of blood is past,

Blown the last trumpet's blast,

Peal'd the last thunders of the embattled line:
From hostile shore to shore

"The bale-fires gleam no more,"

But friendly beacons o'er the billows shine,
To light, as to their common home,

The prows of every port that cut the salt sea-foam,

"Peace to the Nations!"-Peace?

O sound of glad release

To millions in forgotten bondage lying,

In joyless exile thrown

On coasts remote, unknown,

Where Hope herself, if just sustain'd from dying,
Yet sheds so dim and pale a light

As makes Creation pall upon the sickening sight.

"Peace! Peace the world around!"—

Oh strange, yet welcome sound

To myriads more that ne'er beheld her face;
And, if a doubtful fame

Yet handed down her name

In faded memory of an elder race,

It seem'd some visionary form,

Some Ariel, fancy bred, to soothe the mimic storm.'

Ode on Deliverance, &c. p. 3.

If the world should indeed be fated to enjoy repose for any period sufficiently long to establish national confidence, and to give the character of permanent security to Peace, it will doubtless be with peculiar shame mingled with horror, that we shall look back on the long succession of years of continued bloodshed and distress from which Europe is now