All agree that the Intrepid blew up, in or quite near to the western entrance. This was the result of direct observation; it is proved by the fact that portions of the wreck and some of the shells fell on the rocks, and by the positions in which the Constitution’s cutter and the bottom of the ketch were found. With the wind at the eastward, the wreck could not have “grounded on the _north_ side of the rocks, near the round battery,” as is stated in Commodore Bainbridge’s private journal, had the Intrepid been any distance _within_ the entrance; nor would the Constitution’s boat have drifted past the intervening objects to the westward. The wind had probably a little northing in it, following the line of coast, as is usual with light airs, and, as is shown by the wreck’s touching on the _north_ side of the rocks, all of which goes to prove, from an examination of the chart, as well as from the evidence of those who were present, that the accident occurred quite near the place stated. Occurring so far out, with nothing near to endanger the party, it leaves the moral certainly that the explosion was the result of accident, and not of design; or, if the latter, of an attempt of the enemy to destroy the Intrepid. Thus perished Richard Somers, the subject of our memoir, and one of the “bravest of the brave.” Notwithstanding all our means of reasoning, and the greatest efforts of human ingenuity, there will remain a melancholy interest around the manner of his end, which, by the Almighty will, is forever veiled from human eyes in a sad and solemn mystery. In whatever way we view the result, the service on which he went was one of exceeding peril. He is known to have volunteered for it, with readiness; to have made his preparations with steadiness and alacrity; and, when last seen, to have been entering on its immediate execution, with a calm and intrepid serenity. There was an ennobling motive, too, for undertaking so great a risk. In addition to the usual inducements of country and honor, the immediate liberation of Bainbridge and his brave companions was believed to depend on its success. Exaggerated notions of the sufferings of the Philadelphia’s crew prevailed in the squadron before Tripoli, as well as in the country, and their brethren in arms fought with the double incentive of duty and friendship. Ten minutes more would probably have realized the fondest hopes of the adventurers, but the providence of God was opposed to their success, and the cause, if it is ever to be known to man, must abide the revolutions that await the end of time, and the commencement of eternity.