a different and very impressive aspect viewed in the light of their later close association, especially when it is recalled that Collingwood also succeeded, upon Nelson’s death, to the Mediterranean command, and was there worn out, as his predecessor fell, in the discharge of his duty upon that important station, which thus proved fatal to them both.  Few historic parallels are so complete.  Sir Peter Parker, living until 1811, survived both his illustrious juniors, and at the age of eighty-two followed Nelson’s coffin, as chief mourner at the imposing obsequies, where the nation, from the highest to the lowest, mingled the exultation of triumph with weeping for the loss of its best-beloved.

Of Nelson’s exterior at this time, his early biographers have secured an account which, besides its value as a portrait, possesses the further interest of mentioning explicitly that charm of manner which was one of his best birth-gifts, reflecting, as it did, the generous and kindly temper of his heart.  “The personal appearance of Captain Nelson at this period of his life, owing to his delicate health and diminutive figure, was far from expressing the greatness of his intellectual powers.  From his earliest years, like Cleomenes, the hero of Sparta, he had been enamoured of glory, and had possessed a greatness of mind.  Nelson preserved, also, a similar temperance and simplicity of manners.  Nature, as Plutarch adds of the noble Spartan, had given a spur to his mind which rendered him impetuous in the pursuit of whatever he deemed honourable.  The demeanour of this extraordinary young man was entirely the demeanour of a British seaman; when the energies of his mind were not called forth by some object of duty, or professional interest, he seemed to retire within himself, and to care but little for the refined courtesies of polished life.”  No saving sense of humor seems to have suggested that the profane might here ask, “Is this the British seaman?” “In his dress he had all the cleanliness of an Englishman, though his manner of wearing it gave him an air of negligence; and yet his general address and conversation, when he wished to please, possessed a charm that was irresistible."[2]

In June, 1779, when posted into the “Hinchinbrook,” Nelson wanted still three months of being twenty-one.  By the custom of the British Navy, then and now, promotions from the grade of Captain to that of Admiral are made by seniority only.  Once a captain, therefore, a man’s future was assured, so far as concerned the possibility of juniors passing over his head,—­neither favor nor merit could procure that; his rank relatively to others was finally fixed.  The practical difficulty of getting at a captain of conspicuous ability, to make of him a flag-officer, was met by one of those clumsy yet adequate expedients by which the practical English mind contrives to reconcile respect for precedent with the demands of emergency.  There being then no legal limit to the number of admirals, a promotion