w him once in my life, and for, perhaps, an
hour. It was soon after I returned from India. I went to the
Colonial Office in Downing Street, and there I was shown into
the little waiting-room on the right hand, where I found, also
waiting to see the Secretary of State, a gentleman, whom, from
his likeness to his pictures and the loss of an arm, I
immediately recognized as Lord Nelson. He could not know who I
was, but he entered at once into conversation with me, if I can
call it conversation, for it was almost all on his side and all
about himself, and in, really, a style so vain and so silly as
to surprise and almost disgust me. I suppose something that I
happened to say made him guess that I was _somebody_, and he
went out of the room for a moment, I have no doubt to ask the
office keeper who I was, for when he came back he was altogether
a different man, both in manner and matter. All that I had
thought a charlatan style had vanished, and he talked of the
state of this country and the probabilities of affairs on the
Continent with a good sense, and a knowledge of subjects both at
home and abroad, that surprised me equally and more agreeably
than the first part of our interview had done; in fact, he
talked like an officer and a statesman. The Secretary of State
kept us long waiting, and certainly, for the last half or
three-quarters of an hour, I don't know that I ever had a
conversation that interested me more. Now, if the Secretary of
State had been punctual, and admitted Lord Nelson in the first
quarter of an hour, I should have had the same impression of a
light and trivial character that other people have had; but
luckily I saw enough to be satisfied that he was really a very
superior man; but certainly a more sudden and complete
metamorphosis I never saw."[8]

We must not be too critical of the Duke's opinions of the vanity of
the Admiral, but it calls for some notice, inasmuch as the Duke
himself is reputed to have had an uncommonly good amount of it
himself, though it took a different form and created a different
impression. Wellington showed it in a cold, haughty, unimaginative,
repelling self-importance; fearful of unbending to his inferiors lest
his dignity should be offended. Nelson's peculiarities were the very
antithesis; it was his delightful egotism and vanity that added to his
charm and