it!” he would frequently exclaim to his friends, when he beheld any one unprovided for, of whom he had a good opinion, however slight the acquaintance:  and these exclamations were generally followed up by naming some situation suitable for the party, and immediately using all his interest to obtain it.  Innumerable are the persons whom he thus comfortably fixed, with their families, for life.  Where he could not succeed, he felt more than the party disappointed; and, on such occasions only, lamented his limited powers.  Never did man live less for himself.  To his king and his country, his family and his friends, his life was entirely devoted; the promotion of their felicity and glory, was the chief source of his own.  For himself, he had wealth more than sufficient; but he was too poor, satisfactorily to assist those who were most dear to him.  Had his remunerations, and his honours, been as largely proportioned to those of the Great Duke of Marlborough, as his merits, and his services, he would not only have aggrandized his own family and friends, but proved a most munificent patron of genius, and a bountiful dispenser of relief to every species of human misery.  Posterity will say, and it cannot be denied, that our first naval hero was rewarded with too parsimonious a hand.  Should we ever see his equal, in all respects—­which seems no more likely than that we shall behold another Shakspeare—­it will probably be thought, that he is not unworthy of a dukedom.  The King of Naples, as the ally of his British majesty, restored to his throne by Lord Nelson, deemed our hero entitled to the honour of a ducal coronet, with the princely revenue of a dutchy; and it can never be enough lamented, that any official etiquette, in his own country, should have prevented the gracious sovereign who so sincerely loved him, and who was so sincerely beloved by the hero, from bestowing on him, at least, an equal degree of dignity, with the correspondent domains and emoluments for it’s due support.  How many naval commanders have enriched themselves, by fortunate captures of unopposing treasure-ships, or on long preserved snug stations, without the smallest personal hazard, to a degree far beyond what his lordship ever acquired, who was continually engaged in scenes of the utmost fatigue and peril!  All the prize-money he got, was by hard fighting; and it was, in general, only derived from the capture of those ships which his tremendous valour had frequently rendered wrecks of little value.  Even then, but a small portion fell to his share; as he had, both at the Nile and Copenhagen, two of the greatest victories ever gained, a commander in chief who was regularly entitled to prodigiously more than himself.  It is by no means pretended, that the captors of rich prizes, the possessors of advantageous stations, and commanders in chief, are not all of them justly and most honourably entitled to the vast wealth they have often the good fortune to acquire; it is only lamented, that our hero was,