priated to the most meritorious Candidate, designated "the NELSON Commissions," the effect would probably be found highly beneficial to the Country, while a more grateful homage to Nelson's fame could hardly be devised.

The Literary Honours rendered to NELSON, consist of many, though very inadequate Memoirs of his Life, and of Poetical effusions. With few exceptions, however, the Muse of Britain has been remarkable only for her fecundity on this, it might be supposed, auspicious theme. Innumerable "Odes," "Monodies," "Elegies," "Dirges," "Tributes," "Verses," and "Laments," &c., have been written on NELSON and TRAFALGAR, but a few pages will be sufficient to revive the knowledge of the best of these productions.

Early in 1806, Mr. CANNING published anonymously a short Poem, entitled "Ulm and Trafalgar ;" and by no Poet was the praise of NELSON more powerfully sung, the National loss more finely described, or the Hero's character more beautifully delineated than by that accomplished Orator and Statesman, who, to his other qualifications, added those of personal affection for the subject of his glowing verse. Mr. Canning, it should be remembered, was one of Nelson's friends who bid him farewell on board the Victory when he sailed for the last time from England. The Poem commences with representing Napoleon exulting over the defeat of the Austrian Armies and the surrender of Ulm; and "in insolence of power"

"O'er England's seas his new dominion plann'd,-
Whilst the red bolt yet flamed in NELSON's hand!
That hand, which erst, by Nile's affrighted tide,
Smote with dread fire the godless Warrior's pride,
And strew'd his blazing wrecks on Egypt's shore-
Exhausted Europe, by the distant roar

Roused from her trance, her shatter'd force combined,
And half-redeem'd the freedom of mankind."

The subsequent success of Buonaparte's legions is then noticed, which, it is said, made him "in hope, dare profane"

"With impious grasp, the sceptre of the main:

But ENGLAND heard the vaunt, and NELSON made it vain.
NELSON once more, (though, taught by him, we own
The thanks, the triumph, due to Heaven alone,)

Once more the chosen instrument of good,

Fix'd on the waves, and stablish'd on the flood,

His Country's rights :-but seal'd them with his blood,
O price, his conquering Country griev'd to pay!
O dear-bought glories of Trafalgar's day!

Lamented Hero! when to Britain's shore
Exulting fame those aweful tidings bore,

Joy's bursting shout in whelming grief was drown'd,
And Victory's self unwilling audience found;
On every brow the cloud of sadness hung,
The sounds of triumph died on every tongue!

Not joy thus doubtful, sadness thus sincere,
Shall grace, erewhile, the Tyrant-Conqueror's bier :-
Whether with undiscriminating sweep

The scythe of war, amid the mangled heap,
Shall lay him low;-or lone, corroding care,-
Without one heart to pity or to share,-
'Midst cheerless toils of solitary sway,

Shall waste his withering frame with slow decay;
Come when it will, from Heav'n's all-righteous hand,
To save, or to avenge, each injured land,

Nations shall kneel to bless the welcome doom;
And France, unfetter'd, trample on his tomb.

But thee, loved Chief! what genuine griefs bemoan! Fleets, Cities, Camps; the Cottage, and the Throne ! Round thy throng'd hearse those mingling sorrows flow, And seek faint solace in a pomp of woe!

Yet not the vows thy weeping Country pays, Not that high meed, thy mourning Sovereign's praise; Not that the Great, the Beauteous, and the Brave Bend, in mute reverence, o'er thy closing grave; That with such grief as bathes a kindred bier, Collective Nations mourn a death so dear; Not these alone shall soothe thy sainted Shade,— And consecrate the spot where Thou art laid! Not these alone. But, bursting through the gloom, With radiant glory from thy trophied tomb, The sacred splendour of thy deathless name Shall grace and guard thy Country's martial fame. Far-seen, shall blaze the unextinguish'd ray, A mighty beacon, lighting Glory's way! With living lustre this proud Land adorn, And shine, and save, through ages yet unborn!

;

By that pure fire, before that hallow'd tomb,
Heroes and chiefs in valour's opening bloom,
Frequent, in solemn pilgrimage shall stand,
And vow to prize, like Thee, their native land
With pious ardour thy bright course pursue,
And bid thy blended virtues live anew :-
Thy skill to plan; thy enterprise to dare;
Thy might to strike; thy clemency to spare;
That zeal, in which no thought of self had part,
But thy lov'd Country fill'd up all thy heart;

That conscious worth, from pride, from meanness free,
And manners mild as guileless infancy;

The scorn of worllly wealth; the thirst of fame
Unquenchable; the blush of generous shame;
And bounty's genial flow, and friendship's holy flame!
And sure, if e'er the Spirits of the Blest
Still fondly cherish, in the realms of rest,
Their human passions; thine are still the same;-
Thy zeal for England's safety and her fame!
And when in after-times, with vain desire,
Her baffled foes in restless hate conspire

From her fair brow th' unfading wreath to tear,

Thy hand, and hands like thine,-have planted there-
Thou, sacred Shade! in battle hovering near,
Shalt win bright Victory from her golden sphere,
To float aloft, where England's ensign flies,
With angel wings, and palms from paradise!

Cease then the funeral strain!-Lament no more,
Whom, ripe for fate, 't were impious to deplore!
He died the death of glory!-Cease to mourn,
And cries of grief to songs of triumph turn!
-Ah, no! Awhile, ere reason's voice o'erpow'rs
The fond regret that weeps a loss like ours:
Though thine own gallant spirit, wise as brave,
Begg'd of kind Heav'n the illustrious end It gave;
Though rival chiefs, while fondly they recall
Thy storied combats, and thy glorious fall,
Count with just pride thy laurels as they bloom,
But envy less thy triumphs than thy tomb;-
Yet, yet, awhile the natural tear may flow,
Nor cold reflection chide the chastening woe;
Awhile uncheck'd the tide of sorrow swell:-
Thou bravest, gentlest Spirit! fare thee well!"

Mr. CROKER invoked his patriotic and spirited Muse with equal success on the same occasion, in his "Songs of Trafalgar :"

"He dies! but while on Egypt's strand
The Ptolomean tower shall stand;—
Stain'd with the turbid streams of Nile,
While seas shall beat Aboukir's isle ;—
While the white ocean breaks and roars
On Trafalgar's immortal shores ;-
While high St. Vincent's towery steep,
And, giant of the Atlantic deep,
Dark Teneriffe, like beacons, guide
The wanderers of the western wave;
Sublime shall stand, amid the tide
Of baffled Time,-his country's pride-

The sacred memory of the brave;

And NELSON's emulated name

Shine the proud sea-mark to the ports of Fame!

Thither, shall youthful heroes climb,
The NELSONS of an aftertime,

And round that sacred altar swear
Such glory and such graves to share.
Raise then, Imperial Britain, raise
The trophied pillar to his praise;
And worthy be its towering pride,
Of those that live, of HIM that died!
Worthy of NELSON of the NILE!
Of NELSON of the cloud-capped Isle,
Of TRAFALGAR and VINCENT's heights,
Of NELSON of the hundred fights!"

The EARL OF CARLISLE likewise published some "Verses on the Death of LORD NELSON;" and a HOWARD, above all other Englishmen, must naturally have appreciated the glory of a Commander who had defeated the modern Armada:"NELSON's no more! exclaims th' exulting Gaul,

And views a future Navy in his fall.

O noble meed of worth, of high renown,
As bright a Glory round true Valour thrown,
As Britain bending o'er her fallen Chief,
Forgetting all her Conquests in her grief."

Alluding to the expectation of France that Britain's "empire of the Main" was lost with NELSON, Lord Carlisle

said :

:

"O blast the hope! O break the flattering charm,

That all of NELSON sleeps in Earth's cold womb,
That soul in thousands is infus'd; that arm

To point to future Conquests-bursts the tomb." Verses were also written on NELSON's fall by the DUKE and DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE, and those of His Grace have considerable terseness and point:

7 Lord Carlisle's admiration of NELSON was also shown by his erecting a small Rostral Column to his fame in the Court of Castle Howard, on the sides of which are the words ABOUKIR, COPENHAGEN, TRAFALGAR; and he placed the following graceful lines on an ancient Altar from the Temple of Delphi, which was brought to England in Lord Nelson's Ship from the Mediterranean :

"Pass not this ancient Altar with disdain,

'Twas once in Delphi's sacred Temple rear'd;
From this the Pythian pour'd her mystic strain,
While Greece its fate in anxious silence heard.
What Chief, what Hero, of th' Achaian race,

Might not to this have bow'd with holy awe;
Have clung, in pious reverence, round its base,
And from the voice inspired, received the law?
A British Chief, as fam'd in Arms as those,

Has borne this relic o'er th' Italian waves;
In War still friend to Science, this bestows,
And Nelson gives it to the land he saves.

8 William, fifth Duke of Devonshire, K.G., born in 1748, and died in 1811. He married first in 1774, Georgiana, daughter of John, first Earl Spencer, who died in March 1806.