task, the monotony of which was pleasantly alleviated by the chatter of
the old salts who guard the ship and act as guides to the tourists who
visit her. All of these estimable men not only possessing views on art,
but having come by now to the firm belief that they had fought with
NELSON, their criticisms were not too easily combated and the artist
hadn't a tedious moment. Thus, painting, conversing and learning (as one
can learn only from a trained imparter of information), three or four
days passed quickly away and the picture was done.

So far there has been nothing--has there?--to strain credulity. No. But
a time will come--is, in fact, upon us.

On the evening of the last day, as the artist was sitting at early
dinner with a friend before catching the London train, his remarks
turned (as an artist's sometimes will) upon the work upon which he had
just been engaged. He expressed satisfaction with it in the main, but
could not, he said, help feeling that its chances of becoming a real
success would be sensibly increased if he could find as a model for the
central figure some one whose resemblance to NELSON was noticeable.

"There are, of course," he went on, "at the same time--that is to say,
among contemporaries--no two faces exactly alike. That is an axiom.
Strange as it may sound, among all the millions of countenances with two
eyes, a nose in the middle and a mouth below it, some difference exists
in each. That is, as I say, among contemporaries: in the world at this
moment in which I am speaking. But," he continued, warming to his
subject, for, as you will have already gathered, he was not one of the
taciturn brush-brotherhood, "after the lapse of years I see no reason
why nature should not begin precisely to reproduce physiognomies and so
save herself the trouble of for ever diversifying them. That being