of our mended manners. One day, Titus Oates lost his temper
with the men who refused to believe him, and, after looking
about for a scorching imprecation, he began to call them Tories
#84. The name remained; but its origin, attested by Defoe,
dropped out of common memory, as if one party were ashamed of
their godfather, and the other did not care to be identified
with his cause and character. You all know, I am sure,
the story of the news of Trafalgar, and how, two days after it
had arrived, Mr. Pitt, drawn by an enthusiastic crowd, went
to dine in the city. When they drank the health of the minister
who had saved his country, he declined the praise. "England,"
he said, "has saved herself by her own energy; and I hope that
after having saved herself by her energy, she will save Europe
by her example." In 1814, when this hope had been realised,
the last speech of the great orator was remembered, and a medal
was struck upon which the whole sentence was engraved, in four
words of compressed Latin: _Seipsam virtute, Europam exemplo_.
Now it was just at the time of his last appearance in public that
Mr. Pitt heard of the overwhelming success of the French in
Germany, and of the Austrian surrender at Ulm. His friends
concluded that the contest on land was hopeless, and that it was
time to abandon the Continent to the conqueror, and to fall back
upon our new empire of the sea. Pitt did not agree with them.
He said that Napoleon would meet with a check whenever he
encountered a national resistance; and he declared that Spain was
the place for it, and that then England would intervene #85. General
Wellesley, fresh from India, was present. Ten years later, when
he had accomplished that which Pitt had seen in the lucid
prescience of his last days, he related at Paris what I scarcely
hesitate to call the most astounding and profound prediction in