Lord Nelson, on surveying his new domains, felt vastly desirous of filling up the moat, and extending the grounds on that side of the house where the space was so exceedingly contracted. He had, accordingly, applied by letter, dated the 25th of October 1801, to William Axe, Esq. of Birchin Lane, London, who was proprietor of the small intervening field which alone separated Merton Place from the narrow lane at the end of the abbey wall, to be favoured with the purchase of it, on equitable terms; and though that worthy gentleman, in the handsomest manner, for which Lord Nelson ever after highly respected him, paid all possible attention to the wish of his lordship; a churlish farmer, who was Mr. Axe's tenant, on lease, of the whole adjoining estate, where he had acquired a considerable fortune, opposed so many objections, and evinced so rude and unaccommodating a disposition, notwithstanding his lordship had condescendingly treated him with every courtesy, that the object was not accomplished till his lordship, about a year and half afterwards, purchased the whole farm, consisting of a hundred and fifteen acres; which Mr. Axe liberally consented to sell for the very moderate sum of eight thousand pounds. In November, the Reverend Mr. Nelson came to Merton, on the pressing invitation of his ever duteous son. The meeting was truly affecting; and terminated, as it ought, in a thorough conviction, that his lordship had been most shamefully slandered. Indeed, on an entire eclaircissement, it became manifest that the grossest part of the slander which had been cruelly levelled against our hero was so self-evidently false, and really impracticable, that a very small degree of consideration made the worthy and venerable father blush for the credulity which had contributed to criminate our hero; whose private life, all circumstances duly considered, was to the full as unsullied as his public character. He saw the happy family with whom his heroic son was so agreeably domesticated; and witnessed the pure felicity of those amiable friends, with a rapture which conveyed the highest satisfaction to his heart. He perceived the kindest attentions to his son's happiness in every act of all around him: and their success, in the joy now constantly diffused over his countenance; beaming in every glance of his eye, and speaking in every accent of his tongue. He beheld his great and good son happy, and blessed and loved the friends who made him so. "Merton," he said, "is the _Mansion of Peace_, and I must become one of the inhabitants. Sir William and myself are both old men, and we will witness the hero's felicity in retirement." Such was the intention of this virtuous and pious parent; who had, however, been long so habituated to passing his winters at Bath, that he could not, at once, wean himself of the custom: but he never resided with Lady Nelson, as has been falsely reported, from the moment he was convinced of his illustrious son's