which, if she bestows them not, man struggles in vain to acquire by his own efforts; but the care which he took in fitting himself to use those gifts to their utmost capacity is his own glory.  The author of the first full narrative of these eventful weeks, Captain Berry, than whom no man had larger occasion to observe Nelson’s moods, used his capitals well when he wrote, “The admiral viewed the obstacles with the eye of a seaman DETERMINED ON ATTACK.”  It was not for him, face to face with opportunity, to hesitate and debate whether he would be justified in using it at once.  But this preparation of purpose might have led only to a great disaster, had it not received guidance from a richly stored intellect, which had pondered probable conditions so exhaustively that proper direction could be at once imparted and at once understood.  The French admiral, indeed, by his mistaken dispositions had delivered himself into the hands of his enemy; but that might not have availed had that enemy hesitated and given time, or had he not instantly comprehended the possibilities of the situation with a trained glance which had contemplated them long before.  “By attacking the enemy’s van and centre, the wind blowing directly along their line, I was enabled to throw what force I pleased on a few ships.  This plan my friends readily conceived by the signals."[63]

It was, therefore, no fortuitous coincidence that the battle was fought on a plan preconcerted in general outline, though necessarily subject to particular variations in detail.  Not only had many situations been discussed, as Berry tells us, but new signals had been inserted in the signal-book to enable the admiral’s intentions to be quickly understood.  To provide for the case of the enemy being met at sea, the force had been organized into three squadrons,—­a subdivision of command which, while surrendering nothing of the admiral’s initiative, much facilitated the application of his plans, by committing the execution of major details to the two senior captains, Saumarez and Troubridge, each wielding a group of four ships.  Among the provisions for specific contingencies was one that evidently sprang from the report that the enemy’s fleet numbered sixteen or seventeen of the line,—­an impression which arose from there being in it four Venetian ships so rated, which were not, however, fit for a place in the line.  In that case Nelson proposed to attack, ship for ship, the rear thirteen of the enemy.  That he preferred, when possible, to throw two ships on one is evident enough—­the approaching battle proves it; but when confronted with a force stronger, numerically, than his own, and under way, he provides what was certainly the better alternative.  He engages at once the attention of as many ships as possible, confident that he brings against each a force superior to it, owing to the general greater efficiency of British ships over French of that date, and especially of those in his own squadron, called by St. Vincent the elite of the Navy.