this unquestionably must be added the rapid comprehension of a situation, and the exceeding promptitude with which Nelson seized his opportunity, as well as the tenacious intrepidity with which he held to his position of advantage, despite the imminent threat to his safety from the uninjured and gigantic “Sans Culottes,” barely out of gunshot to windward.  It is right also to note the accessibility to advice, a feature of his genial and kindly temperament, to which he admitted much of the success was due.  The trait is not rare in mankind in general, but it is exceptional in men of a character so self-reliant and decided as Nelson.  “If the conduct of the Agamemnon on the 13th,” he generously wrote, “was by any means the cause of our success on the 14th, Lieutenant Andrews has a principal share in the merit, for a more proper opinion was never given by an officer than the one he gave me on the 13th, in a situation of great difficulty.”

The same hot spirit, the same unwearying energy, made itself still more manifest the next day, when were to be garnered the results of his own partial, yet, in its degree, decisive action of the 13th.  “Sure I am,” said he afterwards, “had I commanded our fleet on the 14th, that either the whole French fleet would have graced my triumph, or I should have been in a confounded scrape.”  A confounded scrape he would have been in on the 13th, and on other days also, great and small, had there been a different issue to the risks he dared, and rightly dared, to take.  Of what man eminent in war, indeed, is not the like true?  It is the price of fame, which he who dare not pay must forfeit; and not fame only, but repute.

During the following night the “Sans Culottes” quitted the French fleet.  The wind continued southerly, both fleets standing to the westward, the crippled “Ca Ira” being taken in tow by the “Censeur,” of seventy-four guns.  At daylight of March 14, being about twenty miles southwest from Genoa, these two were found to be much astern and to leeward, of their main body,—­that is, northeast from it.  The British lay in the same direction, and were estimated by Nelson to be three and a half miles from the disabled ship and her consort, five miles from the rest of the French.  At 5.30 A.M. a smart breeze sprang up from the northwest, which took the British aback, but enabled them afterwards to head for the two separated French ships.  Apparently, from Nelson’s log, this wind did not reach the main body of the enemy, a circumstance not uncommon in the Mediterranean.  Two British seventy-fours, the “Captain” and the “Bedford,” in obedience to signals, stood down to attack the “Censeur” and the “Ca Ira;” and, having in this to undergo for twenty minutes a fire to which they could not reply, were then and afterwards pretty roughly handled.  They were eventually left behind, crippled, as their own fleet advanced.  The rest of the British were meantime forming in line and moving down to sustain them.  The French main body, keeping the southerly wind, wore in succession to support their separated ships, and headed to pass between them and their enemies.  The latter, having formed, stood also towards these two, which now lay between the contestants as the prize to the victor.