hostilities was drawing to a close; and they had not conquered
the King. They had not obtained even those advantages which they
had expected from a policy obviously erroneous in a military
point of view. They had wished to husband their resources. They
now found that in enterprises like theirs, parsimony is the worst
profusion. They had hoped to effect a reconciliation. The event
taught them that the best way to conciliate is to bring the work
of destruction to a speedy termination. By their moderation many
lives and much property had been wasted. The angry passions
which, if the contest had been short, would have died away almost
as soon as they appeared, had fixed themselves in the form of
deep and lasting hatred. A military caste had grown up. Those who
had been induced to take up arms by the patriotic feelings of
citizens had begun to entertain the professional feelings of
soldiers. Above all, the leaders of the party had forfeited its
confidence, If they had, by their valour and abilities, gained a
complete victory, their influence might have been sufficient to
prevent their associates from abusing it. It was now necessary to
choose more resolute and uncompromising commanders. Unhappily
the illustrious man who alone united in himself all the talents
and virtues which the crisis required, who alone could have saved
his country from the present dangers without plunging her into
others, who alone could have united all the friends of liberty in
obedience to his commanding genius and his venerable name, was no
more. Something might still be done. The Houses might still avert
that worst of all evils, the triumphant return of an imperious
and unprincipled master. They might still preserve London from
all the horrors of rapine, massacre, and lust. But their hopes of
a victory as spotless as their cause, of a reconciliation which
might knit together the hearts of all honest Englishmen for the