tly men, spectators or actors in careers
essentially of action, imagine that a safe course is being held
because things continue seemingly as they were; whereas, at least in
war, failure to dare greatly is often to run the greatest of risks.
"Admiral Hotham," wrote Nelson in 1795, "is perfectly satisfied that
each month passes without any losses on our side." The result of this
purely negative conduct, of this military sin of mere omission, was
that Bonaparte's great Italian campaign of 1796 became possible, that
the British Fleet was forced to quit the Mediterranean, and the map of
Europe was changed. It is, of course, a commonplace that things never
really remain as they were; that they are always getting better or
worse, at least relatively.

But while it is true that men must perforce be content to wait a while
for the full and sure accounts, and for the summing up which shall
pass a final judgment upon the importance of events and upon the
reputations of the actors in them, it is also true that in the drive
of life, and for the practical guidance of life, which, like time and
tide, waits for no man, a rapid, and therefore rough, but still a
working decision must be formed from the new experiences, and
inferences must be drawn for our governance in the present and the
near future, whose exigencies attend us. Absolutely correct
conclusions, if ever attained in practical life, are reached by a
series of approximations; and it will not do to postpone action until
exhaustive certainty has been gained. We have tried it at least once
in the navy, watching for a finality of results in the experimental
progress of European services. What the condition of our own fleet was
at the end of those years might be fresh in all our memories, if we
had time to remember. Delayed action maybe eminently proper at one
moment; at another it may mean the loss of opportunity. Nor is the
process of rapid decision--essential in the field--wholly unsafe in
council, if inference and conclusion are checked by reference to
well-settled principles and fortified by knowledge of the experience
of ages upon whose broad bases those principles rest. Pottering over
mechanical details doubtless has its place, but it tends to foster a
hesitancy of action which wastes time more valuable than the resultant
gain.

The preceding remarks indicate sufficiently the scope of these papers.
It is not proposed to give a complete story of the operations, for
which