ce he wrote to
his father, "Health, that greatest of blessings, is what I never truly
enjoyed until I saw _Fair_ Canada. The change it has wrought, I am
convinced, is truly wonderful." This happy result had been due, in
part at least, to surroundings that told favorably upon his sensitive
nervous system, and not to the bracing climate alone. He had been
actively occupied afloat, and had fallen desperately in love with a
fair Canadian, around whom his ardent imagination threw that glamour
of exaggerated charm in which he saw all who were dear to him, except
his wife. Her he seems from the first to have looked upon with
affection indeed, but without rapture or illusion. The Canadian affair
came near ending in an imprudent offer, from which he was with
difficulty deterred by a cool-headed friend. The story runs that, the
ship being ordered to New York and ready for sea, he had bidden her
good-bye and gone on board, expecting to sail next day; but that,
unable to bear the approaching separation, he returned to the city,
and was on his way to the lady's home when his friend met him.

Tearing himself away from his mistress by a violent effort, Nelson, on
the 20th of October, sailed for New York. Arriving on the 13th of
November, he found there a large part of the West India fleet, under
Lord Hood, who had been second in command to Rodney on the occasion
of the latter's celebrated victory over De Grasse in the previous
April. Rodney had since then been recalled to England, while Hood had
gone to Boston to look after a division of the beaten French fleet,
which was there refitting. He was now on his return to the islands,
where the enemy was expected to make a vigorous aggressive campaign
the following spring. Extensive preparations were in fact on foot for
the reduction of Jamaica, frustrated six months before by De Grasse's
mishap. Nelson thus found himself again in tantalizing contact with
the stirring circumstance that preludes hostilities, in which he
himself had little hope to share; for the "Albemarle" belonged to the
North American station, where all active naval operations had ceased
with the surrender of Cornwallis the year before. He went, therefore,
to Hood, and begged to be transferred to his squadron. In vain did
Admiral Digby, his own commander-in-chief, tell him that he was on a
good station for prize-money. "Yes," he replied, "but the West Indies
is the station for honour."

Digby was reluctant to part with a