he had reconquered by a not
less just and necessary war. She had successfully defended the order of
things established by the Bill of Rights against the mighty monarchy of
France, against the aboriginal population of Ireland, against the avowed
hostility of the nonjurors, against the more dangerous hostility of
traitors who were ready to take any oath, and whom no oath could bind.
Her open enemies had been victorious on many fields of battle. Her
secret enemies had commanded her fleets and armies, had been in charge
of her arsenals, had ministered at her altars, had taught at her
Universities, had swarmed in her public offices, had sate in her
Parliament, had bowed and fawned in the bedchamber of her King.
More than once it had seemed impossible that any thing could avert
a restoration which would inevitably have been followed, first by
proscriptions and confiscations, by the violation of fundamental laws,
and the persecution of the established religion, and then by a third
rising up of the nation against that House which two depositions and two
banishments had only made more obstinate in evil. To the dangers of
war and the dangers of treason had recently been added the dangers of
a terrible financial and commercial crisis. But all those dangers were
over. There was peace abroad and at home. The kingdom, after many years
of ignominious vassalage, had resumed its ancient place in the first
rank of European powers. Many signs justified the hope that the
Revolution of 1688 would be our last Revolution. The ancient
constitution was adapting itself, by a natural, a gradual, a peaceful
development, to the wants of a modern society. Already freedom of
conscience and freedom of discussion existed to an extent unknown in any
preceding age. The currency had been restored. Public credit had been
reestablished. Trade had revived. The Exchequer was overflowing. There
was a sense of relief every where, from the Royal Exchange to the
most secluded hamlets among the mountains of Wales and the fens
of Lincolnshire. The ploughmen, the shepherds, the miners of the
Northumbrian coalpits, the artisans who toiled at the looms of Norwich
and the anvils of Birmingham, felt the change, without understanding
it; and the cheerful bustle in every seaport and every market town
indicated, not obscurely, the commencement of a happier age.

***** *****

[Footnote 1: Relation de la Voyage de Sa Majeste Britannique en
Hollande, enrichie de planches