transmitting to his brother the welcome intelligence, accompanied by a strict injunction, that he should immediately prepare the prologue and epilogue; but the time was passed, in which the poet would have obeyed this mandate with eager alacrity. Consumption continued daily to gain ground on his enfeebled frame, and at this moment he was leaving Cornwall, to return to Bristol, from whence he was to embark for the West Indies; a voyage being recommended as the last resource to re-establish his declining health. In the first emotion of pleasure, however, he prepared to fulfil his brother's wishes; but after some painful efforts, which ended in producing only four lines, he resigned the pen, with the unwilling confession, that he was unequal to the attempt. On his arrival at Bristol, his energies seemed to revive, whilst he secretly enjoyed the astonishment with which his father, (for the first time apprized of his dramatic pursuits), received the in

timation that The Honey-moon was in rehearsal. Could mental excitement alone arrest the progress of bodily decay, Tobin must now have triumphed over disease; he at least flattered himself he should soon be well, and calculated with such precision the duration of his absence, and referred with such confidence to his restoration to England, that it appeared almost impossible to distrust the accomplishment of his predictions. Although his debility was hourly increasing, he continued to collect materials for future plays; to cherish aspirations for excellence; to indulge the dreams of happiness and fame. It was late in November when he embarked at Bristol, after a cheerful parting from his parents and friends, who probably little imagined it wasto prove eternal. During his short voyage to Cork, he was constantly admonished of his impending fate, by the hectic appearance of a lady who, like himself, appeared to be rapidly sinking to an untimely

grave. Such, however, was the cheerfulness of his temper, that even the contemplation of her sufferings only excited commiseration, without suggesting one personal apprehension; yet so strongly was he impressed with the conviction of her immediate danger, that he dwelt on this subject in the last letter which he ever wrote, and in which, whilst the vessel was getting under weigh, he once more spoke with confidence of his speedy return to Europe, his future exertions, his smiling prospects, and sanguine anticipations. For the first time he ventured to trace a plan of domestic felicity, founded on a mutual attachment, and sanctioned by the promised boons of success and independence. The barrier which had so long impeded his wishes was now removed. He discovered no future difficulties to perplex his course. A few months and all would be well, and he should enter the long desired haven.

* This lady is living, and in good health.

Such were the impressions with which, in the afternoon of the 7th of December, he commenced his voyage; the night proved boisterous, but it passed quietly with Tobin, who had retired to his bed, and dismissed his attendant. Towards morning the wind became contrary and it was judged expedient to return to Cork harbour. Amidst the bustle and confusion incident to this situation, it was remarked that all was silent in Tobin's cabin; but this circumstance excited little surprise in those accustomed to witness his habitual self-possession and composure. No suspicions were entertained of his safety; and it was simply to offer refreshment, that his attendant approached the bed, when it was discovered that the poet indeed slept-to wake no more. It was in vain to surmise at what moment he had breathed his last; no groan was heard, no murmur escaped his lips: and it is with reason to be presumed, that the stream of

life ran pure to the last drop, and that death came like a peaceful slumber after the festival of enjoyment.

The ship being driven back to Cork, an opportunity was offered for his interment; and when the intelligence of his death reached his afflicted family, the last duties had been performed on his lonely grave. But if his funeral was unattended, his death was not unlamented by those to whom he had been long an object of interest and attachment; and the following sketch of his character, written, after an interval of fifteen years, by one who was long numbered with his most intimate and highly valued associates, will best shew that he was eminently happy in his friends, and that his choice was justified by the unalterable sentiments which are still cherished for his memory.*

*J. P. Burre Esq. of Gray's Inn.