considerable time after the French opened fire, the "Victory" did not return a single shot. A few minutes after twelve, however, her guns thundered forth on the enemy from both sides of her deck.

"It is impossible," said Captain Hardy, addressing Nelson, "to break the enemy's line without running on board one of their ships. Which would you prefer?" "Take your choice, Hardy," answered Nelson; "which it is does not matter much."

Captain Hardy, exercising his discretion, ordered the master to put the helm to port, and the "Victory" ran on board the "Redoubtable." This ship, the tops of which were filled with riflemen, received the "Victory" with a broadside, and for fear of being boarded let down her lower deck ports, and did not again fire a great gun during the action. Nelson, supposing from this circumstance that the "Redoubtable" had struck, issued orders to refrain from firing. But though her great guns were silent, the riflemen who filled her tops continued to deal destruction around.

It was a quarter past one o'clock, and Nelson was standing on the deck of the "Victory," when a ball fired from the mizen-top of the "Redoubtable " struck the epaulette on his left shoulder, and prostrated him on his face. Three sailors instantly rushing forward, raised him to his feet; and Captain Hardy, turning round and seeing what had happened, hastened to their assistance.

"They have done for me at last, Hardy," said Nelson.

"I hope not," cried Hardy.

"Yes," replied Nelson; "my backbone is shot through."

But at this moment the hero's presence of mind did not desert him. Covering his face and his stars, that the crew might not be aware that he was wounded, he allowed himself to be carried to the cockpit, and placed in a midshipman's berth. The wound was found to be mortal; but this circumstance was concealed from all, except the chaplain and the surgeons. Nelson, though in great pain, feeling certain that nothing could be done for him, requested the surgeons to attend to those to whom they might be useful. But they continued to fan him, and gave him lemonade to assuage his thirst, which was intense. Nevertheless, at each cheer from the crew, which announced that a French ship had struck, his eye brightened, his tongue uttered an exclamation of joy, and he became more and more anxious to hear of the battle from Captain Hardy, who was absent more than an hour before he could again leave the deck.

"Well, Hardy," said Nelson, when the Captain appeared, "how goes the day with us?"

"Very well," replied Hardy; "ten ships have struck, but five of the van have tacked, and seem to be bearing down on the 'Victory.' However, I have called two or three of our fresh ships round, and have no doubt of giving them a drubbing."

"I hope," said Nelson, "that none of our ships have struck."

"No fear of that," replied the gallant Captain.

"Hardy," said Nelson, for the first time speaking of himself, "I am a dead man. I am going fast. Come nearer to me," he continued; "let my dear Lady Hamilton have my hair and all other things belonging to me."

"I trust," said Captain Hardy, "that the doctor can still hold out hope."

"Oh, no," replied Nelson, "my back is shot through! He will tell you so."

But the battle still raged fiercely, and Captain Hardy was under the necessity of hastening back to the deck. For fifty minutes he was absent. At the end of that time, however, he returned to the cockpit, and taking Nelson's hand, congratulated the dying hero on having won a complete victory.

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"I do not know exactly how many of the enemy we have taken," he said, “but fourteen or fifteen at least.”

""Tis well-'tis excellent!" exclaimed Nelson; “but yet," he added, thinking of his conversation with Captain Blackwood. "I had bargained for twenty. However, anchor, Hardy, anchor."

"Don't you think," suggested Hardy, "that Admiral Collingwood will take the direction of affairs?

"Not while I live," said Nelson, making an effort to raise himself. "Obey my orders, and anchor. And," he continued, "don't fling me overboard. I wish to repose with my family in the churchyard of my native village. Unless," he added, thinking of Westminster Abbey, "my King and my country should be pleased to order otherwise. Now, kiss me, Hardy!"

Nelson now seemed to sink, and after a few moments, Hardy stooped down and kissed his forehead.

"Who is that?" asked Nelson.

"It is Hardy," was the answer.

"God bless you, Hardy! God bless you!" exclaimed Nelson, and they parted.

"Turn me on my right side," said Nelson to those

around; "I wish I hadn't left the deck, for I shall soon be gone.” However, he continued to exclaim repeatedly, "Thank God, I have done my duty!"

But death was now rapidly approaching. Nelson's articulation gradually became more difficult and less distinct. At half-past four, just after the last guns fired at the flying enemy sounded in his ears, and proclaimed that the victory was complete, the hero breathed his last, and sank in death.

The mortal remains of Nelson were brought in the "Victory" to England. A public funeral was decreed; and after lying in state in a coffin, long before made of the mast of the "Orient," the corpse was laid with all honours in St. Paul's cathedral. Never had warrior been more highly venerated or more sincerely lamented. By his sailors he was regarded as a saint. The leaden coffin, in which he had been brought from Trafalgar, was cut in pieces to be distributed as relics of St. Nelson; and the flag with which he was lowered into the grave, was rent to fragments by the sailors who assisted at the ceremony, that each, while he lived, might preserve a memorial of the man who had fought triumphantly, and died gloriously, in vindicating England's claim to the sovereignty of the seas.

LORD COLLINGWOOD.

ABOUT the time when the people of England were lighting bonfires to celebrate the victory of Admiral Boscawen over the French off Gibraltar, and that of Admiral Hawke over the same enemy at Belleisle, and when watchmen at midnight bawled through the streets of London the news of General Wolfe's triumph at Quebec, there might have been observed among the Northern juveniles, at the grammar school of Newcastle, a pretty and somewhat gentle boy, who rejoiced in the name of Cuthbert Collingwood. There was little in the dress or position or prospects of the lad to give him an advantage over the sons of tradesmen and coalfitters with whom he associated. But his sentiments must have been somewhat different. He bore a name which had been renowned in centuries that were past, and which he was to render famous for centuries to come.

The Collingwoods long maintained territorial ste and formed high alliances in Northumberland. Indeed, through the Greys, they derived descent from Joan Plantagenet, known in history as "The Fair Maid of Kent," as wife of the Black Prince, and as mother of Richard the Second. Moreover, they displayed their prowess in the old Border wars, and suf