“The first thing he did, of course, was to announce his return to the Admiralty. A court-martial was held at Portsmouth; and, fortunately for him, was composed of officers of the highest distinction, so that the first men in his profession became thoroughly acquainted with the circumstances of his conduct. The enthusiasm with which his men bore testimony in his favour was gratifying to his feelings, and the minutes of the evidence were most honourable to him. The court pronounced, that Lieutenant Walsingham had done all that could be effected by the most gallant and judicious officer in the defence of His Majesty’s ship Resolute. The ministry who had employed Captain Campbell were no longer in place, and one of the Lords of the Admiralty at this time happened to have had some personal quarrel with him. A few days after the trial, Walsingham was at a public dinner, at which Campbell’s character became the subject of conversation. Walsingham was warned, in a whisper, that the first Lord of the Admiralty’s private secretary was present, and was advised to be _prudent_; but Walsingham’s prudence was not of that sort which can coolly hear a worthy man’s memory damned with faint praise; his prudence was not of that sort which can tamely sit by and see a friend’s reputation in danger. With all the warmth and eloquence of friendship, he spoke in Captain Campbell’s defence, and paid a just and energetic tribute of praise to his memory. He spoke, and not a word more was said against Campbell. The politicians looked down upon their plates; and there was a pause of that sort, which sometimes in a company of interested men of the world results from surprise at the imprudent honesty of a good-natured novice. Walsingham, as the company soon afterwards broke up, heard one gentleman say of him to another, as they went away, ‘There’s a fellow now, who has ruined himself without knowing it, and all for a dead man.’ It was not without knowing it: Walsingham was well aware what he hazarded, but he was then, and ever, ready to sacrifice his own interests in the defence of truth and of a friend. For two long years afterwards, Walsingham was, in the technical and elegant phrase, _left on the shelf, and the door of promotion was shut against him.”_ “Yes, and there he might have remained till now,” said Beaumont, “if it had not been for that good Mr. Gaspar, a clerk in one of their offices; a man who, though used to live among courtiers and people hackneyed in the political ways of the world, was a plain, warm-hearted friend, a man of an upright character, who prized integrity and generosity the more because he met with them so seldom. But I beg your pardon, Mr. Walsingham; will you go on and tell Mr. Palmer how and why Gaspar served our friend?”