It may be expected that something should be here said, upon the chances
which Britain would have had of defending herself successfully against
the army of invaders. We are willing to acknowledge that the risk must
have been dreadful; and that Bonaparte, with his genius and his army,
must have inflicted severe calamities upon a country which had so long
enjoyed the blessings of peace. But the people were unanimous in their
purpose of defence, and their forces composed of materials to which
Bonaparte did more justice when he came to be better acquainted with
them. Of the three British nations, the English have since shown
themselves possessed of the same steady valour which won the fields of
Cressy and Agincourt, Blenheim and Minden--the Irish have not lost the
fiery enthusiasm which has distinguished them in all the countries of
Europe--nor have the Scots degenerated from the stubborn courage with
which their ancestors for two thousand years maintained their
independence against a superior enemy. Even if London had been lost, we
would not, under so great a calamity, have despaired of the freedom of
the country; for the war would in all probability have assumed that
popular and national character which sooner or later wears out an
invading army. Neither does the confidence with which Bonaparte affirms
the conviction of his winning the first battle, appear go certainly well
founded. This, at least, we know, that the resolution of the country was
fully bent up to the hazard; and those who remember the period will bear
us witness, that the desire that the French would make the attempt, was
a general feeling through all classes, because they had every reason to
hope that the issue might be such as for ever to silence the threat
of invasion.

The next most important occurrence that claims our notice in this
volume, and which fully delineates the nature and character of this
wonderful and ambitious individual, is the account of his declaration as