account of grief. So perfectly, indeed, had he performed his part,
that the maritime war, after the battle of Trafalgar, was
considered at an end; the fleets of the enemy were not merely
defeated, but destroyed; new navies must be built, and a new race
of seamen reared for them, before the possibility of their
invading our shores could again be contemplated.

"It was not, therefore, from any selfish reflection upon the
magnitude of our loss that we mourned for him; the general sorrow
was of a higher character. The people of England grieved that
funeral ceremonies, public monuments and posthumous rewards, were
all which they could now bestow upon him whom the king, the
legislature, and the nation, would alike have delighted to honour;
whom every tongue would have blessed; whose presence in every
village through which he might have passed would have wakened the
church bells, have given schoolboys a holiday, have drawn children
from their sports to gaze upon him, and 'old men from the chimney
corner' to look upon Nelson ere they died.

"The victory of Trafalgar was celebrated, indeed, with the usual
forms of rejoicing, but they were without joy; for such already
was the glory of the British Navy through Nelson's surpassing
genius, that it scarcely seemed to receive any addition from the
most signal victory that ever was achieved upon the sea; and the
destruction of this mighty fleet, by which all the maritime
schemes of France were totally frustrated, hardly appeared to add
to our security or strength, for while Nelson was living to watch
the combined squadrons of the enemy, we felt ourselves as secure
as now, when they were no longer in existence.