“is to be united to you; and the foundation of all conjugal happiness, real love and esteem, is, I trust, what you believe I possess in the strongest degree toward you.”  Fifteen months later, and but a short time before their wedding, he says again:  “His Royal Highness often tells me, he believes I am married; for he never saw a lover so easy, or say so little of the object he has a regard for.  When I tell him I certainly am not, he says, ’Then he is sure I must have a great esteem for you, and that it is not what is (vulgarly), I do not much like the use of that word, called love.’  He is right:  my love is founded on esteem, the only foundation that can make the passion last.”  But general maxims, even when less disputable than this, do not admit of universal application; and if an affection was to hold its own in a nature enthusiastic and imaginative as that of Nelson, it had need to strike root deeper than that surface soil indicated by mere esteem, at least when the latter rests simply upon an assemblage of upright and amiable qualities, and not upon that force of character which compels dependence as well as appreciation.  At their last parting he solemnly avowed that his esteem was not lessened; while he was destined also to afford a conspicuous illustration of how enduring a passion may flourish where no just title to esteem exists.

The progress of his wooing was rapid enough.  On the 12th of May he mentions their first meeting; on the 28th of June he writes to his brother:  “Entre, nous.—­Do not be surprised to hear I am a Benedict, for if at all, it will be before a month.  Do not tell.”  On the 11th of September is dated his first letter to her, already quoted, in which he addresses her as “My dear Fanny,” and alludes to the understanding existing between them.  At the expiration of six months he wrote, formally announcing his engagement, to Mr. William Suckling, his mother’s brother.  He anticipates the latter’s doubts as to the permanence of this fancy:  “This Horatio, you will say, is for ever in love;” but he considers that six months without change settles that question.  “My present attachment is of pretty long standing; but I was determined to be fixed before I broke this matter to any person.”  He then explains the situation,—­that the lady herself has little or nothing; that Mr. Herbert, though rich, is not likely to help the young couple much, and he asks his uncle’s assistance.  This Suckling consented to give, and for several years continued liberally to extend.  But still, impatient though Nelson always was to complete whatever he had on hand, various causes delayed the wedding for another year.  Even with Suckling’s help the question of means was pressing; and while, with pardonable self-justification, he gloried to his betrothed that “the world is convinced that I am superior to pecuniary considerations in my public and private life, as in both instances I might have been rich,” he nevertheless owned