Thus perished an officer, who, if it had pleased Providence to preserve, would, in all probability, have been one of the brightest ornaments of the service.  His character combined the three great qualities which are essential for an officer and a seaman—­courage, coolness, and decision:  opportunity only was wanting to display these parts.  If he had succeeded in capturing the pirate, promotion would without doubt have followed, and a bright and honourable career have been open to him.  But the ways of Providence are inscrutable; it was ordained that he should undergo sufferings from which the bravest would have shrunk with horror.  Had he fallen in battle, his name would have been recorded in history.  We hope that our feeble efforts to rescue the memory of this brave seaman from sinking into oblivion will not have been in vain, and that his name may find an honourable place with others who have died in the performance of their duty.

The death of their commander was sensibly felt by all, for they had long known his kindness and courage, and when his body sank below the waves, their hopes sank also.  Mr. Maclean, a mate, and now the commanding officer, took upon himself to direct the efforts of his comrades, and did all that lay in his power to revive their spirits; he assured them that if they once succeeded in righting the boat, that there was every chance of falling in with some vessel.  But twenty hours of constant fatigue, hunger, and thirst had made fearful ravages upon the strength of the men.  Night was again approaching, and Maclean could not conceal from himself, that when darkness came on, the chances of their being seen by any vessel passing near were further removed than ever.  The sharks had for a time taken their departure, but they might return at any moment; for having once tasted blood, they were not likely to be debarred from making another attack.  Two more of the men, either worn out from fatigue, or anxious to escape from further suffering, threw themselves from their support, and were drowned.

The burning sun again set beneath the horizon, but as yet no sail had been seen upon the waters.  Again the land-breeze passed over the ocean, but it brought no refreshing coolness; it only reminded them of the weary hours that had elapsed since it was so anxiously expected, though its results were then far different from what they had hoped.

There were but four men left—­Maclean, Meldrum, (the gunner’s mate,) Wilson, and another man.  These had, by their united efforts, almost managed to clear the boat of water, when, about three o’clock in the morning, the two latter became delirious, sprung overboard, and were either seized by the sharks or drowned.  It will be remembered, that it was Wilson who was selected by poor Smith to convey his last message to the admiral.