Already at times his consciousness of distinction among men betrays something of that childlike, delighted vanity, half unwitting, which was afterward forced into exuberant growth and distasteful prominence, by the tawdry flatteries of Lady Hamilton and the Court of Naples.  Now, expressed to one who had a right to all his confidence and to share all his honors, it challenges rather the sympathy than the criticism of the reader.  “I will relate another anecdote, all vanity to myself, but you will partake of it:  A person sent me a letter, and directed as follows, ‘Horatio Nelson, Genoa.’  On being asked how he could direct in such a manner, his answer, in a large party, was, ‘Sir, there is but one Horatio Nelson in the world.’  I am known throughout Italy,” he continues; “not a Kingdom, or State, where my name will be forgotten.  This is my Gazette.  Probably my services may be forgotten by the great, by the time I get home; but my mind will not forget, nor cease to feel, a degree of consolation and of applause superior to undeserved rewards.  Wherever there is anything to be done, there Providence is sure to direct my steps.  Credit must be given me in spite of envy.  Had all my actions been gazetted, not one fortnight would have passed during the whole war without a letter from me.  Even the French respect me.”  After the conclusion of the campaign, when on the way to Gibraltar, he tells her again:  “Do not flatter yourself that I shall be rewarded; I expect nothing, and therefore shall not be disappointed:  the pleasure of my own mind will be my reward.  I am more interested, and feel a greater satisfaction, in obtaining yours and my father’s applause than that of all the world besides.”  The wholesome balance between self-respect and a laudable desire for the esteem of men was plainly unimpaired.

Though devoid of conspicuous events, the year 1796, from the opening of the campaign, early in April, up to the evacuation of the Mediterranean, had been to Nelson one of constant and engrossing occupation.  There is therefore little mention by him of his private affairs and feelings.  In the home correspondence there is no diminution in the calm tenderness of affection always shown by him towards his wife and father, who continued to live together; rather, perhaps, the expressions to Mrs. Nelson are more demonstrative than before, possibly because letters were less frequent.  But there is nothing thrilling in the “assurance of my unabated and steady affection, which, if possible, is increasing by that propriety of conduct which you pursue.”  He is clearly satisfied to remain away; the path of honor has no rival in his heart; there is no suggestion of an inward struggle between two masters, no feeling of aloneness, no petulant discontent with uneasy surroundings, or longing for the presence of an absent mistress.  The quiet English home, the “little but neat cottage,” attracts, indeed, with its sense of repose,—­“I shall not be very sorry to see England again.  I am grown old and battered to pieces, and require some repairs “—­but the magnet fails to deflect the needle; not even a perceptible vibration of the will is produced.