To one who has accustomed himself to see in Nelson the exponent of the chief obstacle Napoleon had to meet,—­who has recognized in the Nile, in Copenhagen, and in Trafalgar, the most significant and characteristic incident attending the failure of each of three great and widely separated schemes,—­there is something impressive in noting the fact, generally disregarded, that Nelson was also present and assisting at the very opening scene of the famous campaign in Italy.  This was not, certainly, the beginning of Napoleon’s career any more than it was of Nelson’s, who at the same moment hoisted for the first time his broad pendant as commodore; but it was now that, upon the horizon of the future, toward which the world was fast turning, began to shoot upward the rays of the great captain’s coming glory, and the sky to redden with the glare from the watchfires of the unseen armies which, at his command, were to revolutionize the face of Europe, causing old things to pass away, never to be restored.

The Austrians had asked for a clear assurance that their movement to the seashore should receive the support of the fleet, whether on the Riviera or at Spezia, upon the possession of which also Nelson had laid stress, as a precaution against the invasion of Tuscany.  These engagements he readily made.  He would support any movement, and provide for the safety of any convoys by water.  He told the aid-de-camp whom Beaulieu sent to him that, whenever the general came down to the sea-coast, he would be sure to find the ships; and to the question whether his squadron would not be risked thereby, he replied that it would be risked at all times to assist their allies, and, if lost, the admiral would find another.  “If I find the French convoy in any place where there is a probability of attacking them,” he wrote about this time, “you may depend they shall either be taken or destroyed at the risk of my squadron, ... which is built to be risked on proper occasions.”  Here was indeed a spirit from which much might be expected.  The fleet, doubtless, must be husbanded in coastwise work so long as the French fleet remained, the legacy of past errors,—­this Nelson clearly maintained; but such vessels as it could spare for co-operation were not to be deterred from doing their work by fear of harm befalling them.  Warned by the recriminations of the last campaign, he had minutes taken of his interview with the Austrian officer, of the questions he himself put, as well as of the undertakings to which he pledged himself; and these he caused to be witnessed by the British consul at Genoa, who was present.

On the 8th of April the “Agamemnon,” having shortly before left the fleet in San Fiorenzo Bay, anchored at Genoa; and the following morning the port saluted the broad pendant of the new commodore.  The next day, April 10, Beaulieu attacked the French at Voltri.  The “Agamemnon,” with another sixty-four-gun ship, the “Diadem,” and two frigates, sailed in the evening, and stood