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immediately succeeds some violent convulsion of nature. o If the biographical writer could be allowed to blend his own “reflections and remarks,” with the incidents and events he records, this momentous occurrence might justify them. It will, however, only be observed, that Capt. Somers' memory has sometimes been assailed by those whose timid and scrupulous system of morals, evinces a “ zeal without knowledge.” Admitting that he made a voluntary sacrifice of himself, his officers and his crew, to avenge the injuries of his country and rescue his numerous countrymen, in full view, from bondage. Let the severest casuist that ever perverted the plain dictates of conscience, by metaphysical subtlety, be asked if every man who enters the Navy or Army of his country, does not voluntarily expose himself to death in defending its rights, its honour, and its independence? No matter in what manner death is occasioned, so be it the sacrifice adds to the security and advances the glory of his country. Whether it happens in the midst of opposing hosts, in single combat, or as that of Somers and his companions did, by voluntary sacrifice, it equally redounds to their glory and their country’s weal. To those who form their systems exclusively from the records of Inspiration, examples from them might be quoted; and the instance of Sampson alone, who fell with a host of his enemies, will not, by them, be denied as being analogous. The classical reader will immediately recollect that Rome herself was twice saved from destruction by the voluntary sacrifice of the Decii. The writer hopes to be indulged in a brief allusion to the gallant, the accomplished, the lamented Lieut. Wadsworth, with whom he had the honour and enjoyed the pleasure of some acquaintance. His birth place and residence was in Portland, the metropolis of the State of Maine, and in the immediate neighbourhood of the great Preble. To a very elegant person, he added the captivating charms of a mind highly refined. His situation placed within his reach all the fascinating enjoyments of fashionable life; but a participation in them, could not render him effeminate. The previous examples of Stephen and James Decatur inspired his ardent bosom with a thirst for naval glory, and this was enhanced by the renown acquired by his distinguished townsman, and naval father, Com. Preble. He repaired to the renowned sea, whose waves are bounded by three of the great quarters of the globe, and almost in the sight of which, the American squadron was triumphantly wafting. He did not envy, for envy found no place in his noble heart; but he wished to emulate the gallant deeds of his brother officers. The disastrous, yet splendid affair of the 4th of September, has been briefly detailed. Wadsworth, upon that fatal, awful night, left the world in a blaze of glory—gave his mangled corse to the waves—his exalted spirit to heaven—and his immortal fame to his country. Although his precious manes are

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“Far away o'er the billow,” his virtues and gallantry are commemorated by a monument in his native town, the voluntary tribute of his admiring friends to his inestimable worth. - \ . While the American squadron was achieving such unparalleled deeds in the Mediterranean, the American government, yet unadvised of its splendid success, dispatched an additional squadron to that sea. From the state of the naval register, and the rank of the Post-Captains, the new squadron could not be supplied with officers without designating one who was senior to Com. Preble. This devolved upon Com. Barron, who arrived upon the 9th of September, 1804. To an aspiring hero just entering the path of fame, and anxious to reach its temple, a sudden check to his progress is like the stroke of death. It was not so with Com. Preble when he was superseded by Com. Barron. His work was “ done and well done;” and he surrendered the squadron to his senior as Gen. Jackson did his army to Gen Pinckney, when there was nothing to do but to enjoy the fruits of victory. ~ He immediately gave the command of his favourite frigate the Constitution, to his favourite officer Capt. DECATUR, and obtained leave to return to America. The parting scene, as described by one who witnesssed and who felt it, was one of the most interesting that the mind can conceive. For more than a year the Commodore and his gallant comrades had

been absent from their beloved country—a year which may be denominated an age in the calendar of our then infant navy—a period of splendid and “successful experiment” with our ships, and of naval instruction and experience to our officers and seamen. Their attachment had become cemented by common toils, common dangers and common victories. The warworn and veteran Preble gave the parting hand to his officers as a father to his children, and the signal of departure to his seamen as to a numerous group of admiring domestics. The first manifested a dignified regret, mingled with conscious pride— the last gazed with noble grief, upon the last visible piece of canvas that wafted their beloved commander in chief from their view. Fully persuaded that the reader may be gratified with a very brief sketch of the life of Capt. Decatur’s favourite commander, and his immediate predecessor in the command of the frigate Constitution, it will here be attempted, however imperfectly it may be executed. EdwańD PREBLE was born in the town of Portland, State of Maine, upon the 15th August, 1761. His daring and adventurous spirit in early life, could not be better gratified by his friends, than by procuring for him the birth of a Midshipman in the lit. tle naval force suddenly created in the war of the Revolution. In this capacity he entered the ship “Protector,” Capt. Williams, in 1779, the year of Decatur's birth, The Protector mounted twentysix guns—upon her first cruise, engaged the Admiral Duff of thirty-six guns—compelled her to strike her flag—and was prevented from conducting her triumphantly into an American port, by the explosion of the prize, immediately after her capture. The humane crew of the Protector picked up about forty of the Admiral Duff’s crew, and every other soul on board perished. Thus early did our naval heroes show that genuine humanity is ever blended with true courage. He next entered the sloop of war Winthrop as first Lieutenant, under Capt. Little. Finding a British JBrig of superior force, lying in the harbour of Penobscot, Lieut. Preble conceived the daring project of taking her by surprise. Capt. Little concluded to make the hazardous attempt. Preble was placed at the head of forty seamen; and all were clad in white frocks. Upon the night in which the design was to be executed or defeated, as the fortune of naval warfare should determine, Capt. Little ran the Winthrop along side the armed Brig, which lay near a considerable battery of cannon on shore. He was hailed by the enemy most vociferously, who exclaimed—“You will run aboard.” Lieut. Preble coolly answered—“ Aye aye, Sir, we are coming aboard,”—and instantly jumped into the Brig, followed by only fourteen men, as the rest could not gain her by the violent motion of the vessel. While the Lieutenant was preparing for a desperate contest, the anxious Capt. Little hailed him, and asked him—“ Will you not have more men P’’—The gallant Lieutenant, finding but little time to answer interre

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