undred years. She would not tolerate
any acquisition by her rival unless she obtained 'equivalents.' In
pursuance of this unchangeable policy, she again declared war against
France. Mr. Pitt resumed his position of prime minister, and soon formed
a new continental coalition to resist the mighty power and the
aggressions of the French emperor.

Thenceforward she listened to no overtures for peace, but prosecuted
with implacable resentment the war--until she finally prostrated her
imperial foe, and became his inglorious jailer, until death relieved her
from all apprehensions of danger.

But this triumph of a vindictive policy, so gratifying to the national
antipathy, was purchased at a price perhaps far exceeding its value.

The overthrow of Napoleon was an achievement which compelled England to
anticipate the resources of future generations. These generations have
come, and are coming, and they find themselves unable any longer to
contend with French ambition.

The first Napoleon, whom England fought with such relentless animosity,
won his throne by the display of matchless ability in the field and the
cabinet. The present Napoleon reached _his_ throne by perjury,
assassination, and crimes of the blackest atrocity. The first Napoleon
England pursued with her hatred to his grave. The present Napoleon,
reeking with the blood of his unarmed fellow citizens, kisses the queen
of England, and the _entente cordial_ with him becomes the foreign
policy of England. Entangled in his toils, she makes war on Russia as
his ally, stands silently while he humbles Austria and changes the map
of Europe, and barely escapes by an afterthought being dragged into an
attempt to destroy a free republic in America, to enable France to
augment the area for the expansion of the Latin race at the expense of
that of the Anglo-Saxon.

What would the great Chatham and his son--who so long moulded the
destiny of Europe--say, if they could revisit the earth and peruse the
history of their country for the last twelve years? Would they recognize
her as that England who in their hands smote the house of Bourbon, and
inaugurated the policy which led to the overthrow of the greatest
captain who ever tormented with his lust for glory the human race?
Certainly, in all the wars which England waged against the house of
Bourbon, France never attempted a conquest of greater value than that
which the present Napoleon has commenced in Mexico. Certainly, no
con