apostle is exhibited standing. But the vengeance of Britain's insulted genius has overtaken him, in the east and in the west, and Holland has received blows, for her breach of compacts, she will remember as long as her dykes defend her from the encroachments of the ocean.

   When men have eminently distinguished themselves in arts or arms, their characters should be held up to the public with every mark of honour, to inspire the young candidate for fame with a generous emulation. There is a noble enthusiasm in great minds, which not only inclines them to

   behold illustrious actions with wonder and delight, but kindles also a desire of attaining the same degree of excellence. The Romans, who well knew this principle in human nature, decreed triumphs to their generals, erected obelisks and statues in commemoration of their victories; and to this day the cabinet of the antiquarian preserves records of the victories of a Germanicus, the generosity of a Titus, or the peaceful virtues of an Antonius. Why then should not England adopt the practice of the Romans, a people who reached the highest pinnacle of military glory? It is true that some of our great generals have marble monuments in Westminster Abbey. But why should not the living enjoy the full inheritance of their laurels? If they deserve to have their victories proclaimed to the world by the voice of Fame, let it be when men are sensible to the sweetness of her trumpet, for she will then sound like an angel in their ears. Here is the head of a British Hero; a title seldom conferred, and as seldom merited, till the ardent valour of the youthful warrior is ripened into the wisdom and cool intrepidity of the veteran. He entered the service with the principles of a Soldier and a patriot, the love of fame, and the love of his country. His mind active and

   vigorous, burning with the thirst of honour, flew to posts of danger with a rapidity which gave tenfold value to his military exertions, and rendered his onsets terrible as resistless. No expedition appeared to him either difficult or impracticable that was to be undertaken for the good of the cause he had embarked in. Fortune too seemed enamoured of his valour, for she preserved his life in many actions; and, though he cannot stretch forth an arm without shewing an honourable testimony of the dangers to which he was exposed, he has still a hand left to wield a sword for the service of his country. As he is yet in the prime of life, there is nothing too great to be expected from him. He resembles the immortal Wolfe in his fire and fame. And oh, for the good of England, that Wolfe, in his fortunes, had 

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