on to his life." Poor Nelson was very sensitive when his professional
qualities were assailed. He thought, and thought rightly, that the
blockade at Toulon was an unparalleled feat of human patience and
physical endurance. He had only been out of his ship three times from
May 1803 to August 1805. We may write and speak about this wonderful
devotion to duty, but it is only if we take time to think of the
terrific things which the central figure who commanded, and the crews
of the fleet of rickety, worn-out, leaky baskets--proudly spoken of as
the "wooden walls of Old England"--had to contend with and actually
did, that we comprehend the vast strain and task of it all. It was
because Nelson was ever being reminded by some clumsy act of the
Admiralty or thoughtless, ignorant criticism on the part of the
politicians and civilian public generally that the work he and the men
under him were doing was not appreciated as it should be, that he gave
way to outbursts of violent resentment. But so far as the present
writer has been able to discover, his love of approbation was so
strong that an encouraging word of praise soon put him in love for the
time being with those whom he had lately cursed.

He never shrank from disobeying the instructions of whatever authority
was over him if his judgment led him to the conclusion that he would
serve his country better by disobedience and by following his own
judgment; whenever he was driven to do this he was right and those
above him were wrong, and in each case he was so conclusively right
that no authoritative power dare court-martial him, or even censure
his conduct, since the public believed more in him than in them. When
the spirit of well-balanced defiance was upon him, he seemed to say to
the public, to himself, and to those who were responsible for his
instructions, "Do you imagine yourselves more capable of judging the
circumstances, and the immeasurable difficulties surrounding them,