The trees arrived safe at Dropmore yesterday, and we were at their unpacking in the middle of such a fog as I never saw before. They will answer admirably well for my purpose, and will make a great figure on my hill in the course of a century or so, provided always that the municipality of Burnham does not cut them down sooner.
I cannot deny that you have some reason to complain of my silence for the last month, but you have the kindness to assign the true cause; unless, indeed, I was to add another almost equally strong—I mean the absolute want of anything to say. This sounds strange, but it is not the less true. The events you read in the newspapers, often before I get them, and they have been such as it could give me little pleasure to detail. The causes have been hid, caliginosâ nocta, in a fog almost as thick as that of yesterday, and I have been among the guessers only, and not always among those who were luckiest in their guesses. I bless God, that we had the wit to keep ourselves out of the glorious enterprize of the combined armies, and that we were not tempted by the hope of sharing the spoils in the division of France, nor by the prospect of crushing all democratical principles all over the world at one blow. But having so sturdily resisted all solicitation to join in these plans, we have been punished for our obstinacy by having been kept in profound ignorance of the details by which they were to be executed, and even of the course of events, as far as that could be done, which occurred during the progress of the enterprize. Now that it has failed, we must expect these deep politicians to return to the charge, and to beg us to help them out of the pit into which they wanted to help us. But they have as yet been in no hurry to begin this pleasant communication, and most assuredly we are in no disposition to urge them on faster. You have here, therefore, the explanation of the total impossibility in which I find myself to explain all the inexplicable events of the last two months otherwise than by conjecture. It is but lately that I have thought I had even grounds enough to guess by. But you shall hear my guess. The Austrians and Prussians thought they were marching to certain victory. The emigrants, who had given them this idea, confirmed them in it till the facts undeceived them. The Duke of Brunswick, who joins to great personal valour great indecision of mind, and great soreness for his reputation, hesitated to take the only means that could have insured success—a sudden and hazarded attack. The more he delayed, the more difficult his position grew. He then attempted to buy a man, who, under other circumstances, would have been very purchasable; failed in this; lost time; excited distrust and jealousy among his allies; dispirited his own troops; and ended his enterprize by a disgraceful retreat, which coffee-house politicians are, as usual, willing to attribute to all sorts of causes except the natural and obvious one. The subsequent successes of the French are natural. An army that expected to be in Paris in October, had naturally taken little precaution to prevent the French from attacking Germany in the same month. The French officers, who could have no authority over their armies in defeat and disgrace, have naturally acquired it in success; and the business will begin again in the spring, being about twice as difficult as it was when it began this autumn.
I have little doubt that this is the project of both parties. The Austrians may perhaps put themselves a little more forward than the Prussians; and from what I have heard of the conduct of the latter, the enterprize may not fare the worse for this difference. The Emperor must feel that he has now got an enemy whom he must devour, or be devoured by it. And the governing party at Paris have very many very obvious reasons for continuing the war. The rest of the empire will give their contingent, unless they have been lucky enough to be forced to sign a capitulation of neutrality. The King of Sardinia and Italy will defend themselves as they can, which will probably be very ill. What Spain will do, she does not know, and therefore certainly we do not. Portugal and Holland will do what we please. We shall do nothing. Sweden and Denmark can do nothing, and Russia has enough else to do, and has neither the will nor the means of doing much against France. And there is the tableau of Europe for next year, according to my almanac.
You will not complain that this time I have not given you speculation and prophecy enough—more than any man ought to make who has profited, as I have done, by the experience of all these events, to learn that human wisdom and foresight are somewhat more shortsighted personages than the most shortsighted of us two, whichever that is.
All my ambition is that I may at some time hereafter, when I am freed from all active concern in such a scene as this is, have the inexpressible satisfaction of being able to look back upon it, and to tell myself that I have contributed to keep my own country at least a little longer from sharing in all the evils of every sort that surround us. I am more and more convinced that this can only be done by keeping wholly and entirely aloof, and by watching much at home, but doing very little indeed; endeavouring to nurse up in the country a real determination to stand by the Constitution when it is attacked, as it most infallibly will be if these things go on; and, above all, trying to make the situation of the lower orders among us as good as it can be made. In this view, I have seen with the greatest satisfaction the steps taken in different parts of the country for increasing wages, which I hold to be a point of absolute necessity, and of a hundred times more importance than all that the most doing Government could do in twenty years towards keeping the country quiet. I trust we may again be enabled to contribute to the same object by the repeal of taxes, but of that we cannot yet be sure. Sure I am, at least I think myself so, that these are the best means in our power to delay what perhaps nothing can ultimately avert, if it is decreed that we are again to be plunged into barbarism.
I find that I am growing too serious, even for you, upon a subject on which I know you are serious enough, and it is high time to release you. God bless you, and thank you once more in my name, and my little woman's, for your trees. May we long continue to love one another as we do, and we shall both, I trust, have a comfort in our long affection and friendship, which the study or practice of the art of governing men seems very little likely to afford in our time.
Ever, my dear brother,
Most affectionately yours,
Grenville.
The disasters of the Duke of Brunswick reanimated the factious spirit which the vigorous measures of the Government had previously succeeded in subduing. The prosecutions instituted under the proclamation against seditious publications had been followed by the most decisive results; and Thomas Paine, who was the chief offender, foreseeing the inevitable issue of his impending trial, although Mr. Erskine was engaged to defend him, had absconded to France, where he was admitted to a citizenship more congenial to his principles, and enjoyed the doubtful honour of being returned by two constituencies as a member of the National Assembly.
The flight of Paine broke down the courage of his disciples; and the circulation of seditious libels was effectually arrested, until the misfortunes of the Allies once more revived the hopes of the disaffected. Fresh measures of prevention and defence were now rendered necessary to preserve the peace of the country. The Militia was to be augmented by volunteer companies, and the law officers of the Crown were to exercise with vigilance the powers entrusted to them for bringing malcontents to justice. But it was not by such means alone the Administration proposed to meet the evil. It appealed to the good sense and loyalty of the people. Upon these elements it depended for the ultimate success of its efforts. The language of patriotism never found more felicitous or energetic utterance than in these words of Lord Grenville's: "The hands of Government must be strengthened if the country is to be saved; but, above all, the work must not be left to the hands of Government, but every man must put his shoulder to it, according to his rank and situation in life, or it will not be done."
LORD GRENVILLE TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.