sed forward to relieve her, but in his way had his
foremast shattered, and was himself boarded; but, beating off the
enemies, he disengaged himself, and retired into the Thames, with the
loss only of two ships of force, and four small frigates, but with his
whole fleet much shattered. Nor was the victory gained at a cheap
rate, notwithstanding the unusual disproportion of strength; for of
the Dutch flagships, one was blown up, and the other two disabled; a
proof of the English bravery, which should have induced Van Trump to
have spared the insolence of carrying a broom at his top-mast, in his
triumphant passage through the Channel, which he intended as a
declaration, that he would sweep the seas of the English shipping;
this, which he had little reason to think of accomplishing, he soon
after perished in attempting.

There are, sometimes, observations and inquiries, which all historians
seem to decline by agreement, of which this action may afford us an
example: nothing appears, at the first view, more to demand our
curiosity, or afford matter for examination, than this wild encounter
of twenty-two ships, with a force, according to their accounts who
favour the Dutch, three times superiour. Nothing can justify a
commander in fighting under such disadvantages, but the impossibility
of retreating. But what hindered Blake from retiring, as well before
the fight, as after it? To say he was ignorant of the strength of the
Dutch fleet, is to impute to him a very criminal degree of negligence;
and, at least, it must be confessed, that from the time he saw them,
he could not but know that they were too powerful to be opposed by
him, and even then there was time for retreat. To urge the ardour of
his sailors, is to divest him of the authority of a commander, and to
charge him with the most reproachful weakness that can enter into the
character of a general. To mention the impetuosity of his own courage,
is to make the blame of his temerity equal to the praise of his
valour; which seems, indeed, to be the most gentle censure that the
truth of history will allow. We must then admit, amidst our eulogies
and applauses, that the great, the wise, and the valiant Blake, was
once betrayed to an inconsiderate and desperate enterprise, by the
resistless ardour of his own spirit, and a noble jealousy of the
honour of his country.

It was not long, before he had an opportunity of revenging his loss,
and restraining the insolence of the Du