inental states--leaving France, for the
present, out of the question--were less to blame than the newer powers,
who were then struggling forward with the keenness of fresh competitors,
and claiming a recognition of importance which had never been accorded
them before. In the first class we would rank Austria, Holland, and
Sweden; in the second, Russia and Prussia. The Muscovite, unequalled in
extent of territorial possession--exhibiting much of barbaric splendour
with but little of real civilization--sought to extend his unwieldy power
still further, and to gain a position within the heart of Europe by
extending his conquests towards the west. Prussia, circumscribed in
territory, organized herself as a military state. To this one end all
other considerations were, in the first instance, sacrificed; but when it
was attained, she withdrew the mask, and exhibited herself in her real
character--the most unscrupulous of neighbours, the most fickle and
perfidious of allies. Environed with small and defenceless states, she
never lost an opportunity of aggrandizing herself at their expense, no
matter what amount of mutual treaties had intervened. Even defeat she
could turn to her account, by purchasing peace with an enemy upon such
terms as surrendered half of a neighbouring territory to the invader, and
secured the remainder to herself. Even when her interest called upon her
to unite with other European powers against a common foe, she refused to
act upon her own resources, and, unless subsidized, remained sullen and
inactive at home. In this situation was the Continent at the outbreak of
the French Revolution.

The success of the Republican arms in France during the year 1793, of
which the capture of Toulon was the crowning point, naturally created in
the minds of the British ministry the liveliest apprehension and alarm.
England alone, of all the European states, was in a sound and healthy
condition. Her finances were unimpaired, her resources large, her credit
almost unbounded. William Pitt, the greatest minister whom this country
has ever known, was then at the helm of public affairs. The nation--though
some individuals had not escaped the taint--was opposed to the principles
of the French Republic, and disgusted with its attendant atrocities. Our
insular position, and our acknowledged supremacy of the seas, were
sufficient safeguards against a direct attack; but the immediate danger
lay with the Continent. Amidst all the s