would have beer afforded him had he survived; but which was not, from the first moment. expected, from the shattered state of his thigh! At eleven, last night, he breathed his last! He was sensible, at intervals, till within ten minutes of his dissolution, when he sunk exhausted, and expired without a struggle! His lucid intervals were very cheerful; and he was satisfied and fully sensible that no advire or assistance would be wanting. A detached room was prepared by the commissary and chief surgeon, and female attend. anto engaged, that every tenderness and respect mighe be experienced. The master, purser, surgeon, and one midshipman, accompanied captain Allen, who was also attended by his two servants.

"I have communicated and arranged with the officers respecting the funeral, which will be in the most respectful, and at the same time economical manner. The port admiral has signified that it is the intention of his Britan. nick majesty's government that it be publickly attended by officers of rank, and with military honours. The time fixed for the procession is on Saturday, at eleven, A. M. A lieutenant-colonel's guard of the royal marines is also appointed. A wainscoat coffin has been ordered; on the breastplate of which will be inscribed as below. A tablet, whereon will be recorded the name, rank. age, and character of the deceased, and also of the midshipman, will be placed, (if it can be contrived) as I have suggested; both having lost their lives in fighting for the honour of their country.

"Mr. Delphy, one of the midshipmen, who lost both legs, and died at sea, was buried yesterday in Saint Andrew's church yard. I have requested that captain Allen may be buried as near him, on the right in the same vault, if practicable) as possible.

" I remain, respectfully, sir,
«Your most obedient humble servant,
(Signed)

“ Jous HAWKER,

** Cidovant American vice consul. "To General Allen, &c. &c. &c. Providence,

Rhode-Island.” That the enemy were not wanting in respect to his remains, that they acknowledged his bravery, and lamented that death, which alone insured them victory, the following extract from a London paper, abundantly proves.

Plymouth, August 24. "On Saturday last, the twenty-first, was interred with military honours, William Henry Allen, esquire, late commander of the United States' sloop of war Argus, who lost his left leg in an action with his majesty's sloop of war Pelican. J. F. Maples, esquire captain, in Saint George's channel, the fourteenth instant, whereof he died in Mill Prison Hospital, on the fifteenth following.

PROCESSION.

Guard of honour.
Lieutenant colonel of royal marines,

With two companies of that corps ;
The captains, subalterns, and field adjutant,
(Officers with hatbands and scarfs.)

Royal marine band.
Vicar and curate of Saint Andrew's.

Clerk of ditto.

THE HEARSE,
With the corpse of the deceased captain,
Attended by eight seamen, late of the Argus, with crape round

their arms, tied with white crape ribbon:
Also eight British captains of the royal navy, as pall bearers,

with hat bands and scarfs.

Captain Allen's servants, in mourning:
The officers late of the Argus, in uniform, with crape sashes

and hat-bands, two and two.
John Hawker, esquire, late American vice consul,

and his clerks.
Captain Pellowe, commissioner for prisoneri of war.
Dr. Magrath, chief medical officer at Mill Prison depot.

Captains of the royal navy in port, two and two.
Followed by a very numerous and respectable retinue of inhabitants:

The procession left Mill Prison at twelve o'clock. The coffin was covsed with a velvet pall, and the ensign under which the action was fought, and upon thai, the hat and sword of the deceased were laid. On the coffin being removed to the hearse, the guard saluted; and when deposited in the bearse, the procession moved forward, the band playing the Dead March in Szul.' On their arrival near the church, the guard halted and clubhed arms, single files inward, through which the procession passed to the church into which the corpse was carried, and deposited in the centre aisle, whilst the funeral service was read by the reverend vicar, after which it was removed and interred in the south yard (passing through the guard in the same order from, as to the church) on the right of Mr. Delphy, midshipmap of the Argus, who lost both his legs in the same action, and was buried the prece. ding evening."

Such bas been the bright and enviable course of the lamented Allen. He has died, as he had lived, in the pursuit of glory,

VOL. 1,

and in the service of his country. His name will long be famous in the annals of our navy, and will descend to an admiring posterity, constellated with the names of Lawrence and those other heroes who have bravely fallen in this unequal, but glori. ous contest.

A presentiment of that fate, which awaited him, seems to have possessed his mind for some time previous to his last cruise. Just before sailing, he writes to his sister: “When you shall hear that I have ended my earthly career, that I only exist in the kind remembrance of my friends, you will forget my follies, forgive my faults, call to mind some little instances dear to reflection, to excuse your love for me, and shed one tear to the memory of

HENRY.” There is a consolation to his mourning country, in the reflection, that, though she loses his services forever, she adds one more imperishable name to the list of her worthies. That he did not die until he had matured his own, and added new splendour to her fame. That he nobly died defending the honour of her flag, and now sleeps enshrouded by it. Such heroick fortitude in death is more terrible to our foe, than even our conquests and captures. It shews that settled determination in our officers to render our navy illustrious, which must ultimately atchieve its object. None of our brave fellows have died ingloriously. Many have fallen; but they have fallen

like stars,

Streaming splendour through the sky;"

and Albion, contemplating their death, trembles on the throne of naval supremacy.

But it is not in publick life alone, that the traits which designate character are to be sought. A man, with the soul of a robber, might boast an arm, which would “turn the tide of battle." It is when the virtues which adorn the walks of peace, mingle themselves with, and chasten the boisterous couragt of the warriour, that the character of the hero is completed. Great as is the glory with which the name of Allen is encircled; notwithstanding all the lustre, which he has thrown around the flag of our infant navy; it is over the virtues of his private life, it is over the endearing recollections of domestick intercourse, that his friends linger with the fondest enthusiasm. His, were all those qualities, his, that sensibility, that amenity of heart, which form the agreeable companion, and the valuable friend. His loss will be long felt and acknowledged by his country ; but in the sweet domestick circle, of which he was the ornament and the pride, he will never be forgotten-It is there, he will be

“ Beloved, 'till worth can charm no more,
And mourned, 'till pity's self be dead.”

But a proud consolation mingles with the grief of his friends. He died the death which he had always chosen. He ceased not to exist until all the purposes worthy of existence were accumplished. His virtues have borne him to heaven, and he has left a dame on earth, over which time can have little power,

Last evening, as I lay indulging in my accustomed ruminations, my thoughts were insensibly directed to a consideration of the multitude of poetick productions, which have latterly puured from the English press; and the many varieties of style, which the invention of modern writers has introduced into the walks of poesy. A comparative estimation of the respective merits of the authors of these innovations, na resulted from this course of thinking. But in vain did I seek for some criterion, by which to try the orthodoxy of poetick productions. In vain

did I assume, by turns, the various rules of excellence, with!
which the generosity of criticks has so plentifully furnished us.
In vain did I endeavour, after the manner of Procrustes, to erect
a bed of torture, on which to stretch and measure the objecis of
my consideration. On bringing my most favourite authors to
the ordeal, I perceived, that, notwithstanding all the pleasure
derived from their perusal, they must be condemned together,
if judged by critical rules. The style of one was too exuber.
ant; yet, from this very exuberance, did the glowing fervour of
his descriptions evidently proceed, and I felt that I admired him
for his fault. Another was too laconick and sententious; but
the strength and simplicity of his expressions constituted bis
beauty. One wanted invention ; but he painted nature in the
colours of truth, and had he been more inventive, I should have
liked him less. Another boldly broke through all rules, and
soared into regions, purely the creation of fancy ; but he intro-
duced me to a world of magical wonders, and I could not regret
the cold realities of the world, that I had left. In short, I
thought I discovered, that rules could not be made for genius;
that art destroyed its force and briihancy, as we lead the light-
ning of the heavens inert and invisible, when we controul it by
our inventions. That, by binding aid taming the eagle, we de.
stroyed "the terrour of his þuak, and lightning of his eye."
Tired at length with ny disquisitions, and haif dissatisfied with
my conclusions, I insensibiy yielded to the influence of that be-
nevolent God, whose benignity, (to use the sage words of the
wise governour of Barritaria,) “ covers a man all over like a
cloak.” Though under the dominion of sleep, my thoughts
vere still directed to the same subjects; but they were no long-
er under the steady guidance of the matron reason, but the sport
of fancy, that frolicksome madcap of a wanton, whose rogueries
are perpetually teazing, and yet constitute a large proportion of
the bappiness of life. Under her guidance I soon found myself
on a vast plain, crossed and divided by numerous intersecting
paths. By my side stood the genius of Instruction. On one
side lay the vast temple of Interest, to which most of the paths
finally conducted. In another direction, I beheld the paths lead-