im to
literary immortality.

Murray, the original Barabbas, got together six magazine essays on Lord
Nelson, and certain specific memoranda from Lady Hamilton and Lord
Nelson's sisters, and sent the bundle with a check for one hundred
pounds to Southey, asking him to write the "Life," and have it ready
inside of six weeks, or return the check and papers by bearer.

Southey needed the money: he had his own family to support, and also
that of Coleridge, who was philosophizing in Germany. Southey needed the
money! Had the check not been sent in advance, Southey would have
declined the commission. Southey began the work in distaste, warmed to
it, got the right focus on his subject, used the wife of Coleridge as
'prentice talent, and making twice as big a book as he had expected,
completed it in just six weeks.

Other men might have written lives of Lord Nelson, but they did not; and
all who write on Lord Nelson now, paraphrase Southey.

And thus are great literary reputations won on a fluke.

* * * * *

Horatio Nelson, born in Seventeen Hundred Fifty-eight, was one of a
brood of nine children, left motherless when the lad was nine years of
age. His father was a clergyman, and passing rich on forty pounds a
year. It was the dying wish of the mother that one of the children
should be adopted by her brother, Captain Suckling, of the Navy.

This captain was a grandnephew of Sir John Suckling the poet, and one of
the great men of the family--himself acknowledging it. Captain Suckling
promised the stricken woman that her wish should be respected. Three
years went by and he made no move. Horatio, then twelve years of age,
hearing that "The Raisonnable," his uncle's ship, had just anchored in
the Medway, wrote the gallant captain, reminding him of the obligation
and suggesting himself as a candidate.

The captain replied to the boy's father that the idea of sending the
smallest and sickliest of the family to rough it at sea was a foolish
idea; but if it was the father's wish, why send the youngster along, and
in the very first action a cannon-ball might take off the boy's head,
which would simplify the situation.

This was an acceptance, although ungracious, and our young lad was duly
put aboard the stage, penniless, with a big basket of lunch, ticketed
for tidewater. There a kind-hearted waterman rowed the boy out to the
ship and put him aboard, where he wandered on the deck for two days,