JANUARY-DECEMBER, 1794.  AGE, 35.

By the loss of Toulon the British fleet in the Mediterranean was left adrift, without any secure harbor to serve as a depot for supplies and a base for extended operations.  Hood took his ships to Hyeres Bay, a few miles east of Toulon, a spot where they could lie safely at anchor, but which was unsuitable for a permanent establishment,—­the shores not being tenable against French attack.  He now turned his eyes upon Corsica, whence the celebrated native chieftain, Paoli, who had led the natives in their former struggle against France, had made overtures to him, looking to the union of the island to the British crown.  Nelson in person, or, during his brief absence in Leghorn, his division, had so closely invested the shores, that neither troops nor supplies of any kind had been able to enter since the early part of December, nor had the blockaded vessels been able to get out.  The thoroughness with which this work was done brought him, on the 6th of January, 1794, yet further compliments from Hood, who wrote him that “he looked upon these frigates as certain, trusting to my zeal and activity, and knows, if it is in the power of man to have them, I will secure them.”  At the same time he was instructed to enter into communication with Paoli, and settle plans for the landing of the troops.  In attending to this commission his intermediary was Lieutenant George Andrews, brother to the lady to whom he had become attached at St. Omer, and who had afterwards been a midshipman with him on board the “Boreas.”  “This business going through my hands,” he wrote with just pride, “is a proof of Lord Hood’s confidence in me, and that I shall pledge myself for nothing but what will be acceptable to him.”  It was indeed evident that Hood was more and more reposing in him a peculiar trust, a feeling which beyond most others tends to increase by its own action.  Nelson repaid him with the most unbounded admiration.  “The Lord is very good friends with me,” he writes; “he is certainly the best officer I ever saw.  Everything from him is so clear it is impossible to misunderstand him.”  “His zeal, his activity for the honour and benefit of his country,” he says at another time, “are not abated.  Upwards of seventy, he possesses the mind of forty years of age.  He has not a thought separated from honour and glory.”  The flattering proofs of his superior’s esteem, and the demand made upon his natural powers to exert themselves freely, had a very beneficial effect upon his health and spirits.  It was not effort, however protracted and severe, but the denial of opportunity to act, whether by being left unemployed or through want of information, that wore Nelson down.  “I have not been one hour at anchor for pleasure in eight months; but I can assure you I never was better in health.”