the King's Bench prison by a judgment founded on a mistaken verdict, passed by a bench of adverse judges, and welcomed with delight by the infernal malice of a faction which he had provoked by his unsparing denunciation of administrative frauds so monstrous that now one can hardly understand how even Nelson and his compeers managed, under such paralyzing influences, we do not say to lead fleets to victory, but to save them from being swept from off the seas.

It is unnecessary to state that in politics Lord Cochrane was a Radical, and in the days when he sat with Sir Francis Burdett for Westminster, there were many good people who believed that any Radical, no matter what his character or position or reputation, was quite capable, if he saw an opportunity, of conspiring to rig the stock-market, or of perpetrating any other sort of villainy. On the other hand there were a few men, afterwards illustrious in various ways, who felt, by the force of their own sympathy with a generous mind, that, in spite of strong apparent proof of guilt, Lord Cochrane had a nature which could not have stooped to baseness of the kind imputed to him or of any other. Was it likely that one who spoiled his own professional prospects by speaking truths unwelcome to Boards of Admiralty should so far degrade himself as to propagate false intelligence in order to profit by the rise of stock? After what Lord Cochrane called the failure, and the Government the victory of Basque Roads, the First Lord of the Admiralty offered to send him with a frigate squadron and uncontrolled discretion to the Mediterranean, if he would desist from opposing in Parliament the vote of thanks to Lord Gambier, the admiral who had marred his plans. Here was a proposal, we will not say of a conspiracy, but of a little quiet bartering of parliamentary independence for opportunities of professional distinction which many men in Lord Cochrane's place would have seized upon and made the instrument of raising themselves to the highest honours of the naval service. But the firm, the stern, we may almost say the impracticable public virtue of Lord Cochrane scorned a proffer which his own sense of his great capacity must have made most tempting. And this was the man who could league himself with villains for the sake of pocketing a few thousand pounds! In the long and honourable careers upon which Lord Lansdowne and Lord Brougham now look back, it must be one of the most pleasing incidents, that when the clamour of enraged faction pronounced Lord Cochrane guilty, they from the first boldly maintained his innocence.. And of the electors of Westminster of half a century ago, the few that now survive may with pride remember that, in the words

employed in dedicating to them the volume now before us, it was their generous support which rescued from despair' the renowned naval captain, the terror of their country's enemies, when, as the climax of cruel persecution, he, a noble and a knight, and the hero of almost fabulous deeds of daring, was sentenced to the public shame and harrowing mental torture of the pillory. To the sympathy of his constituents and the support of discerning friends, Heaven in its mercy added the affection of a devoted wife. Shortly before Lord Cochrane's trial he married the lady who shared his wanderings in South America, and whose beauty and daring spirit he delights to celebrate in his narrative. Twice did this adventurous lady round Cape Horn, and twice more would she have done so but that the ship which carried her accidentally put into Rio Janeiro, and there she learned that her husband had quitted Chili for Brazil. To many friends who stood by Lord Cochrane in his time of agony and almost despair he expresses his gratitude in the preface to his book; and last,' he says, though foremost in estimation is another friend, found where man will seldom look for a friend in vain at home.' By the personal intercession of the Countess of Dundonald with King William IV., the Earl was reinstated in his naval rank, and the honours of the Bath were restored to him unsolicited by her present Majesty. But, alas! reparation came too late to compensate for the early hopes and just expectations of a life forcibly wasted as regarded myself or my country.' It is impossible to read these touching words unmoved. Like a noble ship driven by a violent storm high on shore and left by the receding tide helpless and useless to her owners, so was Lord Dundonald, in the prime of his vast abilities, forced by unpitying destiny from his country's service just when the appearance of a new enemy opened to him a field for glorious exploits, such as throughout his long and active life has never again been offered to him. Think what must have been the workings of that vehement spirit during his imprisonment. It was the year 1814, when our Admiralty was endeavouring to devise measures to check the naval successes of the Americans. The reverses which we had sustained were due to the prevalence of those very abuses which Lord Cochrane had energetically denounced, and so had brought upon himself a load of official and party hatred which had weighed down the scale of justice and worked his condemnation upon a false charge. If we were to examine the history of all our defeats by the Americans we should find that the whole might have been turned to victories if only there had been a Cochrane to command. And this man of rare capacity, for raising a warning voice was persecuted and cast into a gaol; and

now, when his country was suffering the very calamities he had predicted, he was forbidden to deliver her because he had dared to prophesy of the evil which had come. Must he not have asked, in the silence of his prison, Is there any Heaven? Is there any God? Am I, then, given over hopelessly to the evil power?' Like Prometheus chained to the rock, his heart must be daily torn with the sense of mighty powers and of opportunities irrevocably lost; and this doom was his for his philanthropy, and from it there could be no prospect of escape unless, some convulsion of the world should hurl authority from its seat, and offer fame and wealth and power as the prize of the most able and daring leader who might seize them amid the social wreck.

It has been said that Sir Charles Napier might have conquered empires, and that he died a general in the British service. And so Lord Dundonald will carry to his grave the consciousness of a boundless capacity for command, and the memory that in time of war he was never intrusted by his own country with authority beyond a single ship. He says that the story of his life, though clouded, is not all dark.

'It will show the young officer that, in spite of obstacles, warm attachment and untiring devotion to my noble profession enabled me to render some services to my country upon which I may be allowed to reflect with satisfaction, even though this be accompanied with bitter reflection as to what the all-powerful enmity of my political opponents cruelly deprived me of further opportunity to accomplish.'

The young officer will do well to imitate the diligence of Lord Dundonald from the day he first joined a ship in all the study and practice of his profession. Some one has said that genius is nothing but intense industry. In Lord Dundonald's case genius certainly was industry, and probably something more also. As we recount the principal incidents of his life we shall mark how he performed services and also how he made enemies; and we believe that the young officer may thence derive a warning as well as an example. Military and naval genius has rarely acted cordially under superiors, and has almost always quarrelled with civilians to whom in this country the ablest commander must inevitably be made accountable for his acts. The Duke of Wellington and Lord Nelson, however, were conspicuous examples of self-restraint. They were both sufficiently awake to the shortcomings of the governments under which they served; but still they did not openly denounce them. Lord Dundonald no doubt would say that this was a compromise of principle. But if Nelson had spoken unguardedly of his admiral, and thereby delayed his own promotion, some other officer must have commanded the British fleet off the

coast of Egypt, and there might never have been a battle of the Nile. And if, again, Lord Cochrane had not made enemies at home as fast as he conquered them abroad, he might have been appointed, at the outbreak of the American war, to a command on the hostile coast; and if he had had such an opportunity, he would have left on the history of the United States indelible traces of his great capacity for war. Among many favours which America owes to fortune is to be counted this, that in one war Clive, and in another Cochrane were, by strange and unexpected calamities, hindered from entering the field against her.

In the following brief review of services in the British navy we shall call the enterprising frigate-captain by the name under which he became so famous. Lord Cochrane's own inclinations pointed strongly to the sea, but it was his father's pleasure to procure for him a commission in the 104th regiment. However, his uncle, the distinguished Admiral Sir Alexander Cochrane, perceived the bent of the boy's mind and favoured it by entering his name upon the books of the ships which he successively commanded, so as to gain for him a few years' standing in case he should eventually adopt the sea as his profession. By a practice common in those days, Lord Cochrane was at the same time an officer of the army and a nominal seaman on board of his uncle's ship, and it seems that he thus belonged both to the military and naval services when only thirteen years of age. His father's embarrassed circumstances forbade any regular education, but he worked assiduously at such learning as was within his reach. At last he was allowed to avail himself of his uncle's offers, and at the age of seventeen and a half years he went as a midshipman on board the Hind' frigate. The first lieutenant of this ship had been promoted from the forecastle to the quarter-deck as was sometimes done in those days in order to supply the practical knowledge in which captains advanced by parliamentary influence were deficient. It was this officer's notion of a holiday, when the ship was in harbour, to dress himself in a seaman's garb and busy himself in setting up the rigging. Here was a preceptor willing to teach and the pupil was eagerly desirous to learn; and thus Lord Cochrane laid the foundation of that proficiency in all the duties of a sailor to which in after times he was frequently indebted for his success. In those days little attention was paid to the niceties of arrangement in the dockyards. At Sheerness the people lived, like rabbits in a warren, in old hulks hauled up high and dry."' The frigate in which Lord Cochrane served lay with her bowsprit projecting over the highway, just as

merchantmen now do in some parts of Wapping. And yet every thing was well done and the supervision perfect. The first lieutenant and Lord Cochrane, dressed like seamen, knotted and spliced diligently. Formerly,' he says, both officers and men had to lend a hand in everything, and few were the operations which, unaided by artificers, they could not perfectly accomplish. On two occasions my own personal skill at pumpwork has saved ships and crews when other assistance was not available.' Here we obtain some glimpse of the humble methods by which Lord Cochrane assiduously worked towards a splendid reputation. He possessed a fund of practically-acquired knowledge which his ready invention applied to every emergency. He tells us, and his words well deserve attention, that without this skill no man can become an efficient naval officer.'

Within three years after first going to sea, Lord Cochrane became a lieutenant on board his uncle's ship. His time was made up by the nominal rating which he had enjoyed while still a boy on shore. By the diligence he had shown in profiting by excellent opportunities, he was fully equal to the duties of his new position. The lieutenancy was obtained while serving in North America, where Lord Cochrane spent five tedious years. His next appointment was to the Barfleur,' which bore Lord Keith's flag in the Mediterranean. The British fleet was cruising off Cadiz, and a generation which has seen special correspondents in the Crimea may be surprised to learn that bullocks purchased in Africa were slaughtered on board the flag-ship to supply fresh beef to the whole fleet: the reason for this strange practice being, that the raw hides might be stowed in the hold and sold, when opportunity offered, for the profit of certain officers. The nuisance of this hoard of putrifying animal matter in the climate of the Mediterranean may be conceived. The Barfleur' obtained from the fleet the elegant designation of the stinking Scotch ship.' It was in reference to this abominable traffic that Lord Cochrane gave the first indication of his future character as an uncompromising denouncer of abuses, and thus drew upon himself the ill-will of a superior officer, who contrived to involve him in a court-martial. As I had always a habit of speaking my mind without much reserve, it followed that those interested in the raw hide speculation were not very friendly disposed towards me.' It seems that the first lieutenant sought to pick a quarrel, and Lord Cochrane was quite willing to accommodate him. Brave and ready, and poor, proud, and quarrelsome, how true to nature is the portrait of the Scotch cadet which the great novelist has given us in "Quentin Durward!' But Lord Cochrane, on his own showing,