e laughed at, when they
are enemies."

The whole kingdom of Naples was thus delivered by Nelson from the
French. The Admiralty, however, thought it expedient to censure him for
disobeying Lord Keith's orders, and thus hazarding Minorca, without, as
it appeared to them, any sufficient reason; and also for having landed
seamen for the siege of Capua, to form part of an army employed in
operations at a distance from the coast; where, in case of defeat,
they might have been prevented from returning to their ships; and they
enjoined him, "not to employ the seamen in like manner in future." This
reprimand was issued before the event was known; though, indeed, the
event would not affect the principle upon which it proceeded. When
Nelson communicated the tidings of his complete success, he said, in his
public letter, "that it would not be the less acceptable for having
been principally brought about by British sailors." His judgment in
thus employing them had been justified by the result; and his joy was
evidently heightened by the gratification of a professional and becoming
pride. To the first lord he said, at the same time, "I certainly, from
having only a left hand, cannot enter into details which may explain the
motives that actuated my conduct. My principle is, to assist in driving
the French to the devil, and in restoring peace and happiness to
mankind. I feel that I am fitter to do the action than to describe it."
He then added that he would take care of Minorca.

In expelling the French from Naples, Nelson had, with characteristic
zeal and ability, discharged his duty; but he deceived himself when he
imagined that he had seated Ferdinand firmly on his throne, and that
he had restored happiness to millions. These objects might have been
accomplished if it had been possible to inspire virtue and wisdom into
a vicious and infatuated court; and if Nelson's eyes had not been, as it
were, spell-bound by that unhappy attachment, which had now completely
mastered him, he would have seen things as they were; and might,
perhaps, have awakened the Sicilian court to a sense of their interest,
if not of their duty. That court employed itself in a miserable round
of folly and festivity, while the prisons of Naples were filled with
groans, and the scaffolds streamed with blood. St. Januarius was
solemnly removed from his rank as patron saint of the kingdom, having
been convicted of Jacobinism; and St. Antonio as solemnly installed i