admirable essays which have appeared at intervals in the Times. It has long been a subject of general regret that literary productions of the highest order, and referring to matters of lasting interest, should be doomed, through the peculiar medium of their publication, to an ephemeral existence; and the acknowledged frequency with which such compositions have been extracted from the paper for preservation in the reader's common-place book, affords the best possible proof of a wide-spread desire to possess the interesting and instructive records which it is the object of the present volume to perpetuate. The Essays have been selected solely with a view to their value and interest, and without regard to the time at which they appeared in the journal. The date of publication is affixed to each article; and only the slightest variations have been made from the original text where alteration has been absolutely required by the transfer of language from the newspaper to the book. 50, ALBEMARLE STREET,. ESSAYS. LORD NELSON AND LADY HAMILTON. ANOTHER Life of Nelson is not necessarily another contribution to the country's waste-paper basket. Much as we have heard of the nation's darling hero, there still remains something to be told. Southey, in his short but perfect biography, satisfied our patriotism and did homage to a people's love. Sir Harris Nicolas, in his more voluminous collection of the despatches and letters, made due provision for the graver requirements of posterity; but neither the one nor the other possessed the key that could carry us very far into the recesses of Nelson's history -hidden retreats, possessing to many minds attractions not to be found in the more open and dazzling field of his glorious public career. For every one who prefers a visit to the state apartments of Windsor Castle, there are a thousand who would willingly desert the magnificent halls to linger for a moment in the quieter rooms daily inhabited by a Queen. That which is nearest to us touches us most, and B hence it is something more than vulgar curiosity that renders us so eager to ascertain the domestic movements of the great. Humanity loses sight of itself in soaring to the contemplation of a demigod. It meets itself again, and is contented and instructed when tracking the deity upon the earth, and watching his impulses upon the path of passion common to all. According to our notions, Nelson realised the ideal of a hero as completely as any worshipped at any time in any land. His piety was of the simplest; his love of country was fervent and self-subjugating; his gentleness was equalled only by his valour; and his energy, which has perhaps never been rivalled, corresponded with the genius that inspired it. Delicate in body, and insignificant in appearance, he electrified all within his atmosphere, and secured love and devotion that could accomplish anything, because in his presence they could recognise no difficulty or check. But Nelson was not a complete man. Dazzling as was his moral nature, the bright sun had still its disfiguring spot. Humility, the essential lesson in our passage through time to eternity, is never so effectually taught as when the most illustrious present themselves to the most abject stained and degraded by pitiable sin. It is the blotted page of Nelson's history to which our attention is now chiefly called. We must take courage and survey it. Romance has been beaten in its own domain by the surpassingly romantic history of Lady Hamilton. Before no other woman, perhaps, could Nelson have so completely fallen; upon no other woman of her time were fascinations of every kind so lavishly |