From this time till the peace was concluded, the political debatings, before noticed, continued, and were almost the constant subject of all companies. I have often sat and listened with wonder to the jargon of the protected fools, and heard them argue, if so it may be called, in defence of all the measures then pursued; and I have seen with surprise the impudence of those who lived upon the taxes. Knaves and their abettors appeared to predominate in the land; and they carried their subserviency to such a length that I think, if Mr. Pitt had proposed to make a law to transport all men who had pug noses, and to hang all men above 60 years of age, these persons (those excepted who came within the meaning of the act) would have advocated it as a brilliant thought and a wise measure.

If we examine the history of these times, and look back to those of old, we shall find that the in-roads of ignorance have ever been the same. The time was when the magistrates of Newcastle sent to Scotland for a man who was reputed clever in discovering witches. He came, and easily convicted many a fine woman, as well as those who were wrinkled by age and wisdom, and they were by his means tried and put to death.^[32]

I think, if there be a plurality of devils, ignorance must be their king. The wretchedness which ignorance has, from time to time, spread over the world is truly appaling. This is a king that should be deposed without loss of time; and that portion of mankind who are under the guidance of his imps should have nothing to do with the affairs of society, and should be carefully looked to and kept out of every kind of command. Even the poor, innocent, unreasoning animals should, in mercy, not be allowed to be goaded, and to suffer under their ignorance, in the shape of folly and cruelty.

To attempt giving anything like a detail of the history of this eventful war would, in this place, be useless: that must be left to the historian. It appears to me that Mr. Pitt was urged into it chiefly by ambition, and that disappointment broke his heart. General Bonaparte, from his unparalleled victories, became in his turn blinded by ambition, which ended in his being conquered and banished to St. Helena for life. He had divided and conquered almost all his continental enemies, one after another, and then mostly reinstated them in their dominions. But this generosity would not do. Despotism, urged on and supported by this country, was rooted too deeply in the governments of Europe to think of making any change to better the condition of the people. It would appear that that is a business they cannot think of; and the old maxim, that the many are made only to support the few, seems continually uppermost in their resolves. If Bonaparte had been as good a man as he was a great one, he had it in his power to settle all this, and to have established the happiness of both the governors and the governed, over all the civilised world, for ages to come. Although he had the example of the incomparable Washington before him, he did not copy it. He ceased to be first consul, managed to assume the title of emperor, married an Austrian arch-duchess, and became one of the Legitimates. This added to the stock of his ambition, and from that time he began to decline. Fortune at length seemed to frown upon him, and the frost and snow of Russia cut off and destroyed his immensely large and well-appointed army. He was baffled in his strenuous efforts to repair his loss, and his defeat at Waterloo sealed his ruin.

One would think that the gaining of worlds would not compensate for the misery and the horrid waste of human life which are the certain attendants of war; and one would wonder what kind of minds direct the actions of the authors of it. Were they to reflect, it may be fairly concluded that they could not bear their own thoughts, and that, after taking a full survey of the wretchedness they had occasioned, they would go immediately and hang themselves. They are perhaps not fitted for reflection, or only for that kind of it which can look at nothing but ambition or private gain. It would be well for the abettors and advocates of war to try to weigh the profit and loss (setting aside the inhumanity) attendant upon it. This we should do at home; and, instead of celebrating the birthday of the “Heaven-born minister,” ask his admirers how he deserves such a title, and compare it with his actions. Might not the lives of, say, a million of men have been saved? Was it necessary that they should have been sacrificed in such a way? Could he have avoided it? With his consummate abilities, I humbly think he could. Would not these men have been sufficient in number to colonize and to civilize immense unoccupied territories? The money wasted would have accomplished almost anything. The men and the money would have canaled Britain and Ireland from end to end, and intersected them from side to side; and also made piers, where wanted, at the mouths of the rivers of the two islands; and, besides, would have converted both countries into gardens. To point out more improvements would be a waste of words. With such means in hand, they might have been almost endless. Then, per contra:—What has been done in exchange for the millions of lives and the millions of money thus spent? They have restored legitimacy; they have restored “Louis the Desired,” and “Ferdinand the Beloved,” and the Inquisition! Monarchs are still to be called “God’s vicegerents here on earth!” When by their actions they shew themselves deserving of such titles, mankind will not disturb them in these their dreams; but, till then, they will continue to smile at the conceit, as well as the glitter they keep up to dazzle the sight of their purblind “loving subjects.” All wars, except defensive ones, are detestable; and, if governments admitted morality into their institutions, and were guided by its precepts, war would, in all probability, grow into disuse, and cease. But hitherto that treasure of inestimable value, I think, has been discarded from their councils, and I cannot discover much difference between them and the lesser banditti of old; for each has been guided by the strong disposition to rob, (as soon as they thought themselves able successfully to do so), and to show that “might is right.” From the feuds of the nobility down to “Rob-in-hood, Will Scarlet, and Little John;” and from the ferocious combats of the Percy and Douglas, on the Borders—of Johnny Armstrong and his eight score men, down to “Yeddy (Adam) Bell,” “Clem of the Clough,” and “William of Cloudsley”—and the Mosstroopers,—the same wicked principle has guided them and their ferocious retainers to murder each other and to soak the earth with blood.