William Pitt, the minister of the day, took a bold and determined position. “It is not reform they want,” he said, “it is revolution. They wish to react the troubles of France; to murder the king; and establish a republic.” The people petitioned, and were neglected. They agitated, and were punished. The youth of England clamored for more freedom; and revolutionary principles spread far and wide. Persons of rank and property were alarmed, and formed associations against anarchists and levellers. Parliament was summoned before its time; the Alien Bill was passed; the naval and military forces were augmented; and when the French Convention declared they would assist the disaffected subjects of all monarchical governments, the English ministry demanded a disavowal. The demand was refused; the French ambassador was ordered to leave the kingdom; and, in 1793, the war which added so terribly to England’s encumbrances was declared.

At this time the position of revolutionary France was remarkable. From the commencement of the change, the princes of Europe regarded it with dislike; and the death of Louis was sufficient to decide all crowned heads against the movement. So soon, therefore, as war was declared, treaties were formed with the principal Continental powers. In six months, seven treaties of alliance, and six of subsidies, were concluded. Sweden coalesced with Russia, Prussia, and Austria. The German empire followed. Bavaria, Suabia, and the Elector Palatinate joined the hostile league. Naples followed the example of the Holy See; and the young republic, menaced from without and divided within, saw her territory invaded by half a million of the most warlike troops in Europe.

But the danger was met boldly. The combined armies which were to destroy democracy and establish kingly supremacy were checked at the first onset. The republic resolved to conquer, and the waste of life was disregarded. Conscriptions were frequent; reinforcements arrived constantly; and the army of the allies gave way. But to roll back the tide of war was insufficient for a victorious and a military people. The invasion was carried from their soil, and the invaders were dishonored on their own hearths. A great man had arisen; and Italy fell before the genius of Napoleon. Holland was conquered; Prussia and Spain sued for peace; the savage Russ and the disciplined Austrian alike gave way before the fierce enthusiasm of the soldiery, and the greatness of the captain.

In the mean time, the aspect of affairs in England was alarming. Ineffectual trials for high treason agitated the people. Every effort to pervert casual discontent into determined rebellion was made. The price of provision was high; the system of subsidies impoverishing; and taxation saddened the homes and hearts of the people.

The emperor had received seven millions, Prussia a million and a half; and a host of minor powers had coalesced from similar causes. But if the trials of the people were fearful, the difficulties of the government were numerous. Disaffection among the populace, a powerful and organized opposition within the House, a general hatred of the war without, an oratory unsurpassed in the senate, an invective unsurpassed in the street, an empty exchequer, a starving people, and quarterly loans, were difficulties which even the fine eloquence of William Pitt, and the large majorities he commanded, found it hard to surmount. Riots which endangered the royal person ensued; hundreds of thousands clamored against the taxation which oppressed them; and England seemed on the brink of revolt.

But a yet more dangerous era awaited the land. The navy, which had saved us from invasion, mutinied; the gold of the country followed her subsidies; the Bank of England ceased to pay her notes in specie; the power of France increased; Austria only remained to check the republic on the Continent; and Lodi witnessed a defeat which paralyzed the Imperial power. The passage of the Alps followed; and, within thirty miles of his capital, humiliating terms were dictated to the Emperor of Austria.

England now stood alone against France. An invasion was threatened; but it stirred a spirit of resistance which will long remain a memorable passage in English history. Every village had its volunteers, every corporation its company; and, whatever their defects may have been in the eyes of military science, there was scarcely a man who would not have marched to certain death to preserve the freedom inherited from his fathers. Song and sermon alike inspirited them; night after night watch-fires were prepared on the lonely hills of the country; and the slightest sound or symptom of invasion would have called forth its devoted sons and servants.

These things are greatly to the praise of our countrymen; and the following list of subsidies, up to 1801, will prove it was no trifle with which they contended, when they strained every power to meet the financial difficulties of the time:—

Prussia1794£1,223,89110s.6d.
Sardinia,1793 to 1796500,00000
Emperor,1795 and 17966,220,00000
Ditto1797700,00000
Portugal1797247,20500
Ditto1798120,013130
Russia1799825,00000
Emperor and Elector of Bavaria500,00000
Emperor1,066,666134
Russia545,49400
Bavaria501,01760
Emperor150,00000
£12,599,288210

But though England witnessed the power of the republic aggrandized on the Continent,—though the blood she had shed and the money she had spent were ineffectual on land,—she yet retained her ancient supremacy at sea. The name of Nelson was a word of dread; and the maritime force of France was crushed by that victory which crowned a series of splendid successes in the Bay of Aboukir, and which, known as the battle of the Nile, went like a trumpet call throughout Europe. The despondency of the Continent passed away; the system of coalition, so dear to William Pitt, was again called forth; and Austria, Russia, Turkey, and Naples once more joined the victorious island. Loans were again made. Germany had another million, Russia half that amount, and other sums passed to other powers. But the exertion was vain, the loans were fruitless; and in 1802 that peace, of which it was said “every man is glad, but no man is proud,” was concluded in the treaty of Amiens.