endeavouring to destroy the French fleet under Admiral Guichen No decisive action however occurred; though many a running fight took place, and several manœuvres of considerable skill were made the French behaved with a timed prudence, which baffled every effort to provoke a fair encounter; and in this way left the English no greater honours to gain than the maintenance of national superiority on the station. Early in the year 1781, a war with the Dutch was announced; and Rodney, receiving a reinforcement of seven sail of the line from England, was instructed to commence hostilities against the Dutch settlements in the west. An attack upon the island of St. Eustatia was accordingly determined on: a sufficient force appeared before the place on the 3d of February, and an immediate surrender was given without a blow: the booty thus seized was valued at three millions sterling, but much of the public satisfaction was alloyed by the rapacity with which the property of the unfortunate islanders was confiscated. As the autumn approached, Rodney passed over to England to recruit his health, and was made Vice-admiral of Great Britain, in the room of Lord Hawke. But the year had not closed before he resumed his station in the West Indies. The ship in which he now carried his flag was the Formidable, of ninety-eight guns; the force under his command amounted to thirty-six sail of the line; and the French force opposed to him, under the Count de Grasse, consisted of thirty ships of the line, ten frigates, seven armed brigs, two fireships, and a cutter. Between these fleets two brilliant battles were fought the first on the 9th, and the second on the 12th of April, 1782.* Signals for the former battle were made early in the morning, while the French lay in a line of battle to windward and were standing over to Guadaloupe, and while the English were in a degree becalmed under the high lands of Dominica. Some time therefore elapsed before the ships attained their stations, * These actions caused the deaths of Lord Robert Manners, aged 24, captain of the Resolution; William Bayne, aged 50, captain of the Alfred; and William Blair, aged 41, captain of the Anson-three officers, who are commemorated together on a costly monument, erected at the public charge, by Nollekins, the sculptor, in the north transept of Westminster Abbey. The effect produced by it is imposing, and a considerable degree of talent is but a fortunate breeze sprung up; the British, led by Sir Samuel Hood, closed with the enemy's centre, and by nine o'clock a cannonade was opened. The conflict had been hotly maintained for upwards of an hour before the leading ships of the British centre caught the wind, and were enabled to render any assistance. Some ships, however, bore up about eleven, and took a part in the action, which raged with heavy violence, until the rear of the British began to get under weigh; and then the Count de Grasse, having the advantage of the wind, betook himself to flight. It was on this day that Captain Bayne of the Alfred fell. The British lay to for the purpose of repairing their damages during the night, and gave chase to the still retreating enemy for two successive days. On the morning of the 12th, a French man-of-war, disabled in the recent fight, and towed by a frigate, fell to leeward, and a general engagement was hazarded by De Grasse, in order to prevent her capture. The firing began at half-past seven, and was kept up with much sharpness until noon, when the wind shifted, and Captain, since Lord Gardner, made a bold but unsuccessful attempt to force the French line. Rodney, however, soon after undertook a similar movement, and enjoyed the fortune of success. Being quickly followed by other ships, he wore without delay, and doubled upon the enemy with a destructive fire. A general confusion soon ensued; the French van bore away, and endeavoured to form to leeward, but were baffled in the design by the perseverance of the British, who now hailed the division under Sir Samuel Hood, which had been becalmed all the forenoon, and saw the victory complete. At length the enemy, after a resistance of marked bravery, began to strike; one of their seventy-fours was sunk; and their admiral, on board of the Ville de Paris, being surrounded on all sides, struck down his flag with the setting sun. manifested in various parts of the workmanship, but unfortunately the design is allegorical. The background is composed of a lofty pyramid of dark variegated marble, before which is placed a rostral column, surmounted by a statue of Fame, who elevates a wreath of laurel for the purpose of crowning three medallions, which a winged boy is attaching to the front of the column. In the foreground, Neptune, reposing on a sea-horse, addresses himself to Britannia, who appears guarded by a lion. An engraving from this monument has been given in the plate which faces the life of Newton. 3 Signals to bring to, and collect the prizes were then hung out; the night set in, and the enemy were completely dispersed. The Ville de Paris, of 110 guns, carrying the French Admiral and a considerable sum of money, the Glorieux, Cæsar, and Hector, of 74 guns each, and the Ardent, of 64 guns, were captured, and another ship of 74 guns was sunk. Intelligence of this victory was received in England with enthusiastic demonstrations of joy. The admiral, his officers, and men, were honoured with votes of thanks from the two Houses of Parliament, and Rodney was raised to the peerage, and enriched with a pension of 2000l. a year. All these triumphs, however, had an unexpected issue. Just before the defeat of the French became known in England, the ministers, dissatisfied that no decisive action had taken place, despatched Admiral Pigot to the West Indies with a commission to supersede Rodney in his command. Pigot accordingly sailed to Port Royal, and actually displaced the victor from his fleet-a circumstance so mortifying to his feelings, that he immediately struck his flag, and vowed never again to accept of authority. He kept the resolution, and after leading a retired life for ten more years, expired in London, aged 74. NICHOLAS ROWE. ADJOINING the tomb of Shakspeare, in the south transept of Westminster Abbey, is a large monument, commemorative of Rowe the poet, and Charlotte, his only daughter, wife of Henry Fane, Esq. The Poet's bust is deposited upon an elevated altar, and is wept over by a female figure, large as life: the background is relieved by a pyramid, from which hangs a medallion of Mrs. Fane. Altogether it is a heavy performance, with little that is either original in the design, or delicate in the execution of it. The bust is sufficiently expressive, though without any fine workmanship; but the figure of Sorrow looks more like a caricature than any thing else. The artist's name does not appear. Upon the front of the monument is inscribed this epitaph : Thy relics, Rowe, to this sad shrine we trust, For never Briton more disdain'd a slave. Peace to thy gentle shade, and endless rest, Nicholas Rowe was an author who enjoyed a very calm share of public praise while he lived, and has received a quiet meed of reputation since his death. He was descended from an estated family at Lambertown, or Lamerton, in Devonshire, who acquired their coat of arms for the bravery shown by an ancestor during the war of the Crusades. Nicholas was born at Little Beckford, in Bedfordshire, during the year 1673. His father, John, is said to be the first of the family who abandoned the easy circumstances of a country life to bustle with the world, and make money by a profession. He entered himself a student-at-law, rose to the dignity of a sergeant's coif, and distinguished himself by the publication of some volumes of Reports, in which he fearlessly pointed out the meagre authority there existed in favour of that dispensing power which James the II. so vainly wished to enforce, and his subjects so spiritedly overcame. Sergeant Rowe lies buried in the Round Church of the Inner Temple. His son, the subject of this sketch, was first sent to an academy at Highgate, and afterwards entered at Westminster School, where the quickness of his talents so rapidly distinguished him, that he was named for a King's scholarship at the age of twelve, though not elected until fifteen. Even then, however, the distinction brought no advantage; for his father was so well pleased with his learning, that he entered him a student at the temple without any more loss of time. During the three next years he is said to have still farther satisfied the expectations of his family, by the assiduity with which he read the statutes, and the ability with which he comprehended the laws of his country; but when only nineteen, his father died, he became his own master, and abandoned the severities of the legal profession for the lighter laurels of a poet. 6 His first production was the Ambitious Stepmother,' a play which was written at the age of 25; and though described by his biographers to have been received with great applause, is now entirely forgotten, and does not seem to merit any other fate. To this succeeded the tragedy of Tamerlane,' in 1702: composed at a period when political feelings were at an extreme height, it was in every line nerved to strengthen state party prejudice and gainsay partiality. Under the character of Tamerlane, he designed to personify the virtues of William the III.; and under the crimes of Bajazet to depict the tyranny of Louis the XIV. The hit took, as every hit must always take, when backed by the influence of a government, and adapted to the passions of the people; but the two leading portraitures were as absurd on the one hand as unjust on the other. The Tamerlane of history is no such an excellent personage as the Tamerlane of the stage, and William the III. can never be identified with either of them no piece of patient perfection such as Rowe's hero, ever drew the breath of life. The comparison between Bajazet and Louis is still less real, and, because the more uncharitable, is a less excusable licence. With this play, however, Rowe is reported to have been far better pleased than with any one of his other performances. The preference, however ill founded, is to be accounted for the vehemence with which Tamerlane was at first applauded was much greater than the juster praise bestowed on some of his other plays; and, as it laid the basis of his political distinctions, it may be easily conceived to have been always agreeable to his imagination. Flushed with this success, the poet relaxed nothing in diligence, |