could possibly have braved and surmounted.  That they were extricated, by a daring resolution and determined valour, in Captain Troubridge and Captain Hood, which would have done honour even to Rear-Admiral Nelson himself, is as certain, as that no want of courage prevented, in the smallest degree, the success of the enterprise.  There can be no such possible imputation.  By bravery, alone, it was wholly unaccomplishable; it might, possibly, have been effected, but even that is by no means certain, if they had not been deprived of the chief hero’s most fertile mental resources, ever rising with the exigency, which his fatal wound had effectually prevented—­and which no other man must be censured for not possessing; because, perhaps, no other man ever did possess them in so eminent a degree.  Besides, justice demands a due acknowledgment, that those who may rank among the greatest of men, having others at hand whom they consider as still greater than themselves, are to be excused for not hastily relying on their own judgment; though delay should, as it generally does in the operations of war, prove ultimately dangerous.  The same persons, left under the necessity of acting for themselves, might be inspired with more confidence in their own ability, and proceed very differently in their operations.

In lamenting that the several trials were not instantly made, which have been suggested as remaining at all practicable, during the critical periods alluded to, due regard must be paid to the opinions of those who had better opportunities of judging from intervening circumstances.  Not, indeed, that it is by any means unusual for the most exalted characters to discover, themselves, after the event, opportunities which might have been seized, and which they have for ever lost, of performing some peculiarly brilliant achievement.  This is no disgrace.  Of much regret, it may often constitute a subject; of just reproach, never.

By indulging these reflections, there is no other object in contemplation, than that of assisting to afford an accurate view of the ability which was exerted in this unfortunate enterprise; and thus demonstrating, by a new example, the force of the old observation—­that success is not always acquirable, even where it is most merited.

About the middle of September 1797, Sir Horatio Nelson having arrived safely in London, had apartments engaged in Bond Street; where he was attended by Dr. Moseley, the late celebrated Surgeon Cruikshanks, and other gentlemen of the faculty.

It appears that, in consequence of a nerve having been improperly included in one of the ligatures employed for securing a bleeding artery, at the time of the operation—­which ligature, according to the customary practice of the French surgeons, was of silk instead of waxed thread—­a constant irritation, and perpetual discharge, were kept up; and, the ends of the ligature, hanging out of the wound, being daily pulled, in order to effect their separation, occasioned the severest agony to the heroic sufferer, who had scarcely any intermission of pain, either by night or day.  His excellent spirits, however, never deserted him:  and, in fact, he had not felt the slightest degree of fever on the occasion; a very unusual circumstance, after the loss of a limb.