was passing down the ladder he observed that the tiller ropes had been carried away, and ordered a midshipman to tell captain Hardy to have new ones rove directly. He then covered his face and stars with his handkerchief,t hat he might be the less observed by the men.

The surgeon, Mr. Beatty, ordered his lordship's clothes to be taken off, that the direction of the ball might be ascertained.-You can be of no use to me Beatty, said the hero, go and attend those whose lives can be preserved. When the surgeon had done his melancholy task, and had again been urged by the admiral to go and attend to his duty, he reluctantly obeyed, but continued to return at intervals. As the blood flowed internally from the wound, the lower cavity of the body gradually filled: lord Nelson therefore constantly desired Mr. Burke, the person who supported his head, to raise him, and complaining of exces sive thirst, was supplied by Mr. Scott with lemonade. In this state of suffering, with nothing but havoc and death and misery around him, the spirit of Nelson remained unsubdued, and his mind still intent upon the great object, his country's service. He' anxiously inquired for captain Hardy, to know whether the destruction of the enemy was certain. It was an hour before Hardy could leave the deck, and lord Nelson became apprehensive that he was dead. The crew of the Victory were now heard to cheer: demanding the cause, he was told that one of their opponents had struck. A gleam of devout joy lighted up the countenance of Nelson: and as the crew repeated their cheers, and marked the progress of their victory, his delight visibly increased. "Will no one bring Hardy to me?" he exclaimed; "He must be killed; I am certain he is dead." The captain's AID then came, and in a low voice told the surgeon the circumstances respecting the fleet which detained captain Hardy, but that he would take the first moment that offered to leave the deck. The excessive heat of the cockpit, from the numbers of the dead and wounded, increased the faintness of the dying hero, and his sight became dim. "Who brought the message?" said he feebly: Bulkely, my lord, replied Mr. Burke. It is his voice: remember me, Bulkely, to your father,' said Nelson. Captain Hardy soon afterwards came down from the deck, and endeavoured to conceal the feelings with which he had been struggling.

"How

goes the day with us, Hardy?” Ten ships, my lord, have struck.' 'But none of ours, I hope. There's no fear, my dear lord, of that: five of their van have tacked, and show an intention of bearing down upon us; but I have called some of our fresh ships round the Victory, and have no doubt of your complete success.' Unable any longer to suppress the feelings of his brave heart, Hardy turned away to conceal the bitterness of his sorrow.

of the men were occaWith a wish to sup"I still hope, my lord, "Don't talk nonsense,

The firing continued, and the cheers sionally heard amidst its repeated peals. port the hero's spirits, Mr. Burke said, you will carry this glorious news home. Burke," the admiral replied. "One would, indeed, like to live a little longer; but I know it to be impossible; God's will be done. I have performed my duty, and him I thank for it."

A wounded seaman, who was lying near him, waiting for amputation, was in the bustle hurt by some person passing by. Nelson, weak though he was, indignantly turned his head, and reprimanded the man severely for not having mere humanity.

The surgeon again returned to him. "I find something rising in my heart," said he, which tells me I shall soon be gone. God be praised that I have done my duty. My pain is so severe that I devoutly wish to be released.”

When the result of the day was accomplished, captain Hardy returned to his dying chief, and reported the number that had struck. "God be praised!" exclaimed Nelson. "Hardy, bring the fleet to an anchor." The delicacy of captain Hardy's situa tion, from there being no captain of the fleet, was embarrassing; and with as much feeling as the subject would admit of, he hinted at the command devolving upon admiral Collingwood.Nelson, feeling the vast importance of the fleet being brought to anchor, and the ruling passion of his soul predominating even in death, replied, somewhat indignantly, "Not whilst I live, I hope, Hardy." And vainly endeavouring at the moment to raise himself on the pallet, he said authoritatively, "Do you bring the feet to anchor!" Captain Hardy was returning to the deck to obey, when the admiral called him back, and begged him to come Lord Nelson then delivered his last injunctions, and de

near.

sired that his body might be carried home to be buried, unless his sovereign should otherwise order it, by the bones of his father and mother. He then took captain Hardy by the hand, and observing that he should not see him again alive, the dying hero desired his brave associate to kiss him, that he might seal their long friendship with that affection which pledged sincerity in death. Hardy stood over the revered body in speechless agony, then knelt down and kissed the admiral's forehead. "Who is that?" said the dying hero. "It is Hardy, my lord." "God bless you, Hardy," replied he feebly. "I wish I had not left the deck-I shall soon be gone." His voice then gradually became inarticulate, with an evident increase of pain. After a feeble struggle, he spoke these last words so distinctly as to be heard "I have done my duty; I praise God for it"-upon saying which he expired.

The sensation which the death of this great and wonderful man produced upon all classes of people in the British dominions, were of a kind before unknown and unimagined. From the sovereign to the lowest peasant, every being felt and owned that he had experienced a loss. The best families went into mourning for him. Every mouth was full of his achievements. Every honour was done to his memory; and men of all parties made the walls of parliament echo the praises of Nelson. The press of course was fruitful in productions upon the event, and forgetting their venality, all its creatures for once united in a just tribute to the excellence of the greatest of men. Poets of state too, invoked their muses with more than their usual fire, to sing the hero's praise, and mourn his death. Most of these productions are collected in one or other of the volumes of memoirs and biographical histories which have been published on this illustrious subject. One, however, which appearing in the form of a paragraph in a country newspaper in England, was little noticed, seemed to us so elegant and so sublime, that we thought it would be unpardonable not to treasure it up; and we now feel happy that we have it in our power to annex it to these extracts.

* Mr. Canning.

LORD NELSON'S DEATH AND TRIUMPH.

Taken from the Isis of Sheffield.

"Intelligence of a most glorious event, accompanied with tidings of an awful calamity, (like the angels of mercy and affliction travelling together) has arrived on our shores, and awakened the public mind from the agony of despondence, to a tumult of mingled emotions, sorrow and joy, mourning and triumph. On the 21st of October, while the cowardly and incapable MACK was surrendering himself alive into the hands of Bonaparte,the noble and lamented lordNelson, once more, and for the last time, fought and conquered the united foes of his country; but he fell in the meridian of victory, and in one moment became immortal in both worlds. His career of services had been long, but it was only in the last war that he burst upon the eye of the public as a luminary of the first magnitude. At the battle of Aboukir, he rose like the sun in the east, and like the sun too, after a summer's day of glory, he set in the west, at the battle of Trafalgar, leaving the ocean in a blaze as he went down, and in darkness when he descended.

"In ages to come, when the stranger who visits our island shall inquire for the monument of Nelson, the answer will be, 'BEHOLD HIS COUNTRY WHICH HE HAS SAVED!!'”

LIFE OF MASSINGER.

(Concluded.)

MASSINGER appears for the first time in the office book of the master of the Revels, December 3d, 1623, on which day his play of the Bondman was brought forward.

In 1624, he published the Bondman, and dedicated it to Philip, earl of Montgomery, second son of Henry, earl of Pembroke, who gave a liberal suffrage in its favour. This dedication, which is sensible, modest, and affecting, serves to prove

that whatever might be the unfortunate circumstance which deprived the author of the patronage and protection of the elder branch of the Herberts, he did not imagine it to be of a disgraceful nature, or he would not in the face of the public have appealed to his connexions with the family.

This dedication, which was kindly received, led the way to a closer connexion and a certain degree of familiarity, for which, perhaps, the approbation so openly expressed of the Bondman, might be designed by Montgomery as an overture. At a subsequent period Massinger styles the earl his "most singular good lord and patron," and speaks of the greatness of his obligations.

Mine being more

Than they could owe, who since, or heretofore

Have labour'd with exalted lines to raise

Brave piles, or rather pyramids of praise,
To Pembroke and his family.

What pecuniary advantages he derived from the present address, cannot be known; whatever they were, they did not preclude the necessity of writing for the stage, which he continued to do with great industry, seldom producing less than two new pieces annually. In 1629 he gave to the press the Renegado and the Roman Actor, both of which had now been several years before the public. The first of these he inscribed to lord Berkeley, in a short address composed with taste and elegance. He speaks with some complacency of the merits of the piece, but trusts that he shall live to tender his humble thankfulness in some higher strain: this confidence in his abilities, the pleasing concomitant of true genius, Massinger often felt and expressed. The latter play, he presented to sir Philip Kuyvet, and sir Thomas Jeay, with a desire, as he says, that the world might take notice of his being indebted to their support for the power to compose the piece. He expatiates on their kindness in warm and energetic language, and accounts for addressing "the most perfect birth of his Minerva" to them, from their superior demands on his gratitude.

We may be pretty confident that Massinger seldom, if ever, received for his most strenuous and fortunate exertions, more