a succession of new governments, mad with enthusiasm, but, with all the strength of madness, rose upon the ruins of the monarchy. A thousand ambitious theories were at once let loose upon the state. The dream of domestick liberty seemed already to have been realized; and, in the fury of that triumph, there was nothing too extravagant for the hopes and pretensions of the people. The glittering phantoms of antique achievement and Roman sovereignty floated before their eyes; and, while they exulted in what they had already obtained, they imagined a further greatness-an "all hail hereafter." But the vision was inspired by intoxication; and by acts of intoxication was it dispelled. Instead of taking security for their own freedom, and laying plans for the extension of their power, they composed songs in praise of themselves, and took their glory upon credit. They talked about republicks till they fancied they were free; and murdered one another till they had convinced themselves they were indivisible. And thus, among this vain, volatile, and profligate people, was the mighty enthusiasm of the greatest revolution the world ever witnessed, hurrying to its own extinction; either dissipating itself in folly, or quenching itself in blood; when the sudden assault of a confederate invasion marshalled the irregular energies, and decided the fortunes of Europe. Those fleeting and subtil spirits, that were lately flying abroad in a thousand directions, now suddenly became fixed. The genius, that in the late anarchy had been overpowered by clamorous absurdity and romantick wickedness, sprang at once, with the buoyancy of fire, to the upper regions of the state: a common danger engendered a common feeling; and all the efforts, and all the resources of the people, were collected, consolidated, and concentered. The shock had been severe: but it sobered them at once. The

reigning emperour, has nevertheless derived its origin from causes antecedent to his advancement, and, in a great measure, independent of his skill. Thus, though he must be acknowledged to have entwined himself so artfully with the existing institutions, that his destruction may indeed, by possibility, involve theirs; yet, as we believe them to spring from a separate root, we have very little hope, that, on his death, they will actually cease to flourish. These considerations are extremely important; because the future conduct and hopes of G. Britain must materially depend upon the conclusions that she may form with respect to the real sources of the power of her enemy. For some time before the revolution, it had been a favourite speculation, among the bolder class of politicians, that a powerful European state might easily arrive at universal dominion. Warlike expeditions were to be the instruments of acquiring this dominion, and a warlike constitution was to secure it. France, from the situation and extent of her empire; from the fertility of her soil; from the vast amount of her population; from her ambitious spirit, and from her excellence in arms, in arts, in science, and in civilisation, seemed, of all nations, the most completely adapted for the achievement of such a purpose. But the inefficient nature of her government, the encumbering indolence, pride, and weakness, of the aristocracy and dignified clergy, and the miserable embarrassments of her finances, long prevented her from attempting the enterprise; and the subsistence of the balance of power, even with all the derangements that the scale had suffered since the unprincipled and impolitick distribution of Poland, was still a check sufficient to counteract a design so very bold and overweening, as that of universal conquest. The revolution came, however, and all these obstacles vanished. A new government, or rather

VOL. IV.

2 c

power of the French republick, which had hitherto been proclaimed but in the explosions of oratorical vanity, now echoed in the thunder of her cannon; and the ridicule of Europe subsided into terrour.

Nor was that terrour groundless. The embryo principle of unlimited ambition, that had been choked or dissipated in the general chaos of the new constitution, was now taking an organized form, and a steady direction. The abuses of the former government had been done away. The people, perceiving that high birth was no longer necessary to military promotion, flocked to the standards of their country. The complete distrust of publick credit banished all financial fears and scruples; and nothing was wanting to strengthen and mature the rising spirit of the nation, except the incentives of opposition and exercise.

This desideratum, the British government quickly supplied, by promoting, and cooperating in, a war against the infant republick. As if our very object had been the fomentation of her dangerous enthusiasm, we calculated our hostilities with so nice a moderation, that we irritated without fatiguing her, and fostered her spirit, without impairing her strength. We educated and broke her in, by little expeditions of our own, and unwieldy coalitions of our allies; obstacles just formidable enough to excite the necessary animation in the hearts of her people, and complete the discipline of her troops. While she was collecting, from all her vast and populous provinces, an endless array of her own ardent citizens, to contend for their lands and their liberties, we were stirring up the cooperation of states, where the people had no motive to fight, and the government no energy to decide. We treated, and harangued, and confederated, when there was no common interest, but the interest in our subsidies. With an unprecedented ignorance of hu

man nature, we attempted to kindle enthusiasm by bribes: we teased every hesitating, impotent, selfish state, to draw forth its hollow mercenaries, against armies with whom the only bounty had been the impulse of their own wild patriotism. We generously trusted the fortunes of the whole world to leaders recommended only by family interest, by the routine of seniority, or by the baser title of purchase. All the commissions in the republican army were purchased also; but by genius and valour-not with money.

Then the French conquered, and we were astonished. But our astonishment did not teach us wisdom. Again, and again, we reiterated our paltry and preposterous attacks; and still the enemy defeated us; and still we were astonished. And the enemy began to be astonished too; for he found that we were actually giving ourselves into his hands, and unconsciously helping him to attain that universal power, at which we scarcely suspected him to be aiming. The very government we were opposing thanked us in secret, for imparting a steady direction to the inconstant zeal of their people. They redoubled their efforts on every side; and perpetually, as they saw the successive failures of our petty and partial endeavours, they enlarged the scale of their own operations. The pretext of self-defence was no longer thought necessary, at home or abroad. They were strong enough safely to avow ulteriour objects; the prize that was thenceforth to be fought for, was the mastery of Europe. From year to year we poured in our gold to buy the sway we sighed for; and still the sword of France was flung into the opposite scale, and, beating down the balance, defeated the bargain.

The brilliant successes which had been achieved by the talents of the leaders, and by the general circumstances and constitution of the government, were greatly assisted in

their effect upon the French people, by their inherently vainglorious and sanguine character. La grande pensée, which is the term familiarly employed by the Parisians, to express this national scheme of universal subjugation, was every day becoming more and more popular with all ranks. Nay, it had so totally diverted the thoughts of the multitude from the care of their liberties at home, that Napoleon's military despotism was received without a struggle; with a readiness, indeed, which, after so recent a struggle for freedom, must have appeared quite incomprehensible in any people less fickle than the great nation. This ruler knew their temper; he knew the sacrifices they would make, and the equivalent of vanity with which they would expect to be repaid; and in giving them the equivalent, he determined to entitle himself to all the sacrifices. He has oppressed; but, in return, he has dazzled. The plunder that enriches his troops, has gilded the threadbare and sordid condition of the finances from which these troops must be reequipped: and the peals and salutes for his victories, have drowned the murmurs of the conscription by which these victories are gained He has every where stedfastly persisted in his own bold. and unrelenting measures; and, by that firmness, he has finally triumphed, alike over the liberties of his people, and over the weakness of his enemies. He has not shrunk from the probable discontents of the populace, when a great object was to be accomplished; and with equal coolness has he regarded the small annoyances of his foes. In his march to conquest, he has seen hostile states, on the right and on the left, allying themselves to preserve what was already lost, and capturing islands to swell a profusion, with which they were already embarrassed; favouring their enemies, and bombarding their friends; squandering their money, and sacrificing their men!

and he has let them amuse themselves in their own way, and contented his ambition by doing, with one effort, all that they failed in doing with so many. Then, we have recourse to our old habit of wondering; we declare ourselves, as usual, astonished at his good fortune, and ask our acquaintances, if they do not think this system of things will end at his death.

Let us not "lay this flattering unction to our souls." Let us not rest one atom of our security on the vain hope, that Fortune may give us what we neglect to earn from Prudence. Philip may be sick-Philip may be dead; but Philip will leave behind him a successour and a people with the same views, and nearly with the same means, at which we are now appalled. The French power is undoubtedly of the most awful magnitude; and the emperour has been vigorously instrumental in maturing its colossal growth; yet, if, as we have endeavoured to show, the organisation, which affords such facilities to the military operations of France, depends no longer on his individual genius, nor even on the continuance of the popular ambition, then we must still repeat our inability to believe, that his death will restore the independence of Europe. Almost all his subjects are become soldiers. Even while they groan under the tyranny which they have unwarily admitted, they still lust for conquest; and such a lust is not to be extinguished with the life of an individual, even though that individual be Buonaparte. He has himself made a provision for the continuance of the national energy, by fixing the succession to watch and guide it. He has splendidly fortified that succession with an advanced guard of allied and kindred princes, and with a body guard of hereditary nobility; and, even if these great precautions should fail to secure the empire for, his descendants it must yet be remembered, that the restoration of

defalcation, or the slightest caprice, of any one of our confederates, that is, by an occurrence from which we have suffered so often already, and from which, while the present system of foreign policy endures, we may depend upon suffering so often again.

To be sure, even upon the plan that we now pursue, of fighting France with one fifth part of her force, as if we believed the old proverb about the adequacy of one Englishman to five Frenchman, it must be allowed that there is a possibility of doing something. But it must be some such possibility, as that a well disciplined French army of a hundred thousand men should be beaten by twenty thousand English to morrow, and another the next day, and a third the day after, and so on for a good many more days; and that the rulers of every continental state should offer their people something worth fighting for, and that all these rulers and people should coalesce cordially against France: or else it must be the still less conceivable possibility, that Buonaparte should set about conducting his military operations after the manner of our ministers.

We do think, then, that there is no chance of our being able to crush the power of France by direct hostility and aggression; but still we are of opinion, that, by skilful and cautious policy, we may reasonably hope to disable it. This, however, we must do by gradual and cautious means; and trust to the natural and regular, though steady course of human affairs, for that effectual cooperation, which cannot be hoped from alliances and intrigues. If we should find it unsafe, or actually impracticable, to procure peace for ourselves, at least we ought not to disturb the quiet of the continent. Every agitation that we can now excite there, is a fresh advantage to our enemy: it furnishes him with an object for the emyloyment of his troops, with lands to reward his

leaders, and with victories to amuse his people. We should rather endeavour to keep the states of Europe so completely tranquil, that he shall have no cause or excuse for war; no resistance to dread, no plots to punish. If we could but behold the French forces inactive, we might hope to behold them subdued. They are irresistible only when in motion; and they could continue in motion no longer, if the continent were quiet: for the maritime hostilities of England, who must then be the only opposing power, could afford no employment whatever to a military force; and, as to their marine, the very idea of a competition is absurd. At the present time, every thing, if it be but left to its natural course, seems tending to such a condition of repose. The states that border upon France are ruled either by the kinsmen, or by the vassals of Buonaparte; all but the Spanish chiefs, who have only a little hour to strut and fret. The more remote empire of Russia is still in peace; and in peace she must remain or be crushed without mercy, and without hope. of restoration: for she seemed powerful only by the prudent reserve of Catherine. The succeeding governments, less sagacious, have experimentally shown us how much we overvalued the resources of their country.

What then? it may be said—Are we to congratulate ourselves on the helplessness of all the states that might make head against France? Certainly; if we are convinced, as it appears we should be, that nothing can be expected from their exertions, while every thing may be hoped from their repose. When action and renown had ceased, what should induce the French people with patience to support the oppressions they suffer? Would not the multitude soon begin to discover, that, though their burthens remained, the equivalents for which those burthens were born, were totally withdrawn?-that the government