in peace or war no interest separate from that of the people at large; and as the nation was pleased with that sincere spirit of peace with which the late treaty was negotiated, so, now that a restless and unjust ambition in those with whom we desired sincere amity has given a new alarm, the country will rather prompt the Government to assert its honour, than need to be roused to such measures of vigorous defence as the exigency of the times may require.”

During the winter, Bonaparte, resentful of Great Britain’s claim to a voice in the politics of the Continent, became more and more distinctly menacing in deed and word.  On the 20th of February, 1803, in a message to the legislature, he made the imprudent, because useless, vaunt, “This government says with just pride, England, alone, cannot to-day contend against France.”  Two days later Minto, who was in opposition, was told by Nelson, “in strict confidence,” that for some time back there had been great doubts between peace and war in the ministry.  “One measure in contemplation has been to send him to the Mediterranean, by way of watching the armament and being ready if wanted.  He says that he is thought the fitter for that delicate service, as on the one hand he wishes the continuance of peace, and therefore is not likely to precipitate matters, and on the other hand Bonaparte knows that if he hoists his flag it will not be in joke.”  It had for some time been arranged that, if war came, he was to have the Mediterranean command.

On the 8th of March, 1803, the King sent a message to Parliament, that, in consequence of military preparations going on in the ports of France and Holland, he judged expedient to adopt additional measures of precaution for the security of his dominions.  While this was under discussion in the Upper House, Nelson, impressed with the idea that war must come, left his seat, and wrote to the Prime Minister the following line:  “Whenever it is necessary, I am your Admiral.”  Yet he felt the tug at his heartstrings as he never had before.  “War or Peace?” he writes to his old flag-captain, Berry.  “Every person has a different opinion.  I fear perhaps the former, as I hope so much the latter.”  Only with large reservations would he now have repeated the rule Codrington tells us he inculcated,—­“that every man became a bachelor after passing the Rock of Gibraltar, and he was not very tardy in showing that he practised what he preached.  Honour, glory and distinction were the whole object of his life, and that dear domestic happiness never abstracted his attention.”  He did, indeed, rail at marriage[57] during his last cruise, now fast approaching; but his passionate devotion to Lady Hamilton, and his yearning for home, knew no abatement.  Yet, through all and over all, the love of glory and the sense of honor continued to the last to reign supreme.  “Government cannot be more anxious for my departure,” he tells St. Vincent, “than I am, if a war, to go.”