These lines speak eloquently of the high order of this illustrious man.  He despises money, but claims it as his right to have proper recognition of his services, which the Government should have given him generously and with both hands.  In so many words he says, “Keep your money, I am not to be bought, but confer on me if you will some suitable token that will convince me that you do really, in the name of the nation, appreciate what I have done for it.”  Services such as he had rendered could never have been adequately rewarded by either money or honours, no matter how high in degree.  In the affairs of money these two great Admirals were pretty similar, except that Collingwood knew better how to spend it than Nelson.  Both were generous, though the former had method and money sense, while the latter does not appear to have had either.  He was accustomed to say “that the want of fortune was a crime which he could never get over.”  Both in temperament and education Collingwood was superior to Nelson.  The former knew that he had done and was capable of doing great deeds, but he would never condescend to seek for an honour reward; while Nelson, who also knew when he had distinguished himself in the national interest, expected to be rewarded, and on occasions when it was too tardily withheld, he became peevish, whimpered a good deal about his illtreatment, and on more than one occasion showed unbecoming rage at being neglected.

After Copenhagen, the wigs were fairly on the green because he was created a Viscount instead of an Earl.  He talked a good deal about the Tower, a Dukedom, or Westminster Abbey, and had ways of demanding attention for which Collingwood had neither the aptitude nor the inclination, though his naval qualities were quite equal to Nelson’s.  But with all their faults and virtues, there was never any petty jealousy between the two heroes, who lie at rest side by side in the tombs at St. Paul’s.  Faithful to their naval orthodoxy that it was incumbent for every Christian sailor-man to wash clean his conscience when he was passing from time into eternity, Nelson on the 21st October, 1805, and Collingwood five years later, avowed to those who had the honour of closing their eyes for evermore that they “had not been great sinners,” and then slipped into eternal sleep; each of them leaving behind a name that will live and descend into distant ages.

We left Villeneuve, the unfortunate but distinctly brave French Commander-in-Chief of the allied fleet at Trafalgar, aboard the Mars.  He was subsequently sent a prisoner to England, and after a short stay, he was allowed to go to France, and broke his journey at Rennes on his way to Paris.  The poor broken-hearted fellow was found dead in his room, having committed suicide.  There is not the remotest foundation for the unworthy report that was spread that he was put to death by Napoleon’s orders.  The Emperor was much too big a man, occupied with human projects too vast, to waste a moment’s