CONDITION OF EUROPE AND SOUTH
AMERICA.

In considering, generally, the present state of Europe, no one, we think, can be sanguine enough to calculate on any long continuance of peace. Without inquiring into the causes of the late sanguinary wars, which raged so long between France and the other powers, we may safely state, that the settlement in which they terminated was the result, not of any mutual compromise or reconciliation of jarring interests, but of pure force. The compact of peace was not, to use Mr Burke's phrase, in the spirit of peace-it was ratified at the point of the sword. Peace was brought about by the complete triumph of the coalesced powers, who trampled on the necks of their formidable and long-victorious enemies, and dictated such terms as are usually given by the conquerors to their fallen adversaries. As this treaty was brought about by the sword, the sword was its natural guarantee; and the Allied Powers accordingly took good security that the settlement which they effected should not be disturbed by any of those rebellious spirits who might have been left discontented, by the fluctuating chances of revolution. But this pressure of foreign force, which weighed down and kept steady the various and complicated machinery of the great European system, being now withdrawn, all the discordant passions and clashing interests which were, for a time, laid

VOL. I.

and are working, with all their` former activity, to produce new wars. Independently of this balance of discord, which has never yet been discharged, there prevails, almost in every country of Europe, a controversy between governments and their subjects, which has already produced various disturbances, and is far from being set at rest. The tranquillity of the European powers is thus menaced from two sources: 1st, From their differences with each other, and from the still rankling animosities of the last war: 2dly, From civil discord, by which most of them are perplexed. We shall, in the following Sketch, endeavour to trace shortly the principal features in the political condition of each.

1st, With regard to Great Britain, the chief peculiarity in her condition is her enormous debt, which has had the effect of weighing down both her commerce and her agriculture. In the last contest, she has unquestionably gained every object for which she took up arms, having settled the old hereditary family of the Bourbons on the throne of France, and restored quiet to Europe. But she has received in the broil such severe contusions, that she has never yet recovered her former alacrity and strength. Her enormous debt, and the immense revenue which it is necessary to levy from the people by taxes, is the deadweight which hangs upon her, and obstructs her progress. There never was a time when it was more necessary that the commerce and agricul

A

ture of the country should be flourishing, in order to yield a suitable revenue for the public service; but such is the dilemma in which we are placed, that the very circumstance which renders a large revenue necessary, prevents the revenue from flourishing. Taxation has been pushed to such a pitch, in consequence of our great war-expenditure, that it has deadened all the springs of industry. Our commerce was so depressed, that the labourer could neither procure his wages, nor the master his profit. The land was filled with idle, starving, and discontented workmen, who met and consulted about political reform, vainly looking to this quarter for the relief of their miseries. They were driven to despair, and threatened to involve the country in tumults. By the revival, in some degree, of our commerce, these great evils have abated. But the leading branch of our domestic industry, namely, our agriculture, continues in an extremely depressed state, and seems every day to decline deeper into embarrassment and distress. The landed interest vainly look to Parliament for relief; not aware, apparently, that the low price of produce, from which all their distress has arisen, has been brought about by causes far above all human control. By the late act, restricting the importation of foreign corn, they have obtained for the last two years the complete monopoly of the home markets, and Parliament cannot go farther for their relief. But, say they, agriculture, in its present depressed state, cannot bear the burdens laid upon it. Let the public expenditure, therefore, be reduced, and taxes taken off. Here, then, is the dilemma in which we are placed. A great class of the community, composing the landed interest, the most powerful of all, are, owing to the distress which they have suffered, thrown into the ranks of those who are crying out for economy and retrenchment. From this circumstance, considerable inconvenience is expected to arise to Ministers, in the approaching parliament; and, what is of far greater consequence, if the distress of the country does not abate, from what source is a revenue to arise, suitable to our vast expenditure? What pro

spect have we, if our revenue do not materially increase, of ever discharging the debt by which we are at present oppressed? These are the great and critical points in the present condition of this country. Our revenues are mortgaged to pay the interest of a large debt, the principal of which is, long ago, spent. We have to provide for this as well as for our annual expenditure; and the whole strength of the nation is tasked to the utmost for these purposes. But it is clear, that if, in addition to this, we cannot provide a surplus for the gradual extinction of the debt, we must still be in a very precarious state. With our expenditure and our revenue nearly equally balanced, and without the means of adding one shilling to our revenue, it is clear that we present a broad and unshielded mark for every mischance. The public revenue of a great country is necessarily precarious; but as we are situated, we have no provision whatever against unexpected casualties. We must lie like a log on the water, the sport of every wave, or, rather, we are like a vessel sore beset to weather a certain point, with every inch of canvass set, and laid close to the wind, and thus running her inevitable course, either for safety or destruction. Nor have we any spare resources, to answer an unexpected call. In the event of a new war, we must remain neuter. We can no longer interfere in continental affairs, nor conclude subsidiary alliances. In regard to foreign politics we are manacled hand and foot by our immense debt. We cannot stir, either to aid or to oppose the continental potentates; and in this situation we must remain, until we have provided an adequate sinking-fund, for the redemption of our debt. From these considerations, it is apparent that the state of our finances furnishes the true standard of our political importance, and that, acccording as they are flourishing, or otherwise, will our power be great or small. It was by the prodigal use of our almost boundless resources, during the last struggle, that we acquired so much glory and importance; and these being now exhausted, our importance is necessarily diminished, until we recruit our wasted strength. Economy, therefore, is the

policy of Great Britain. It is her sure road to greatness-the true and only remedy for all her grievances, which consist merely in the taxation which oppresses her. The great defect in her political condition is her enormous debt, and for this defect economy is the certain and only cure. 2d, With respect to France, her situation, though apparently peaceable and prosperous, contains ample materials for inflammation and mischief. The fact cannot be denied, that France, notwithstanding the great exploits of her warriors, is now a conquered country. She has been thrown down from the highest pinnacle of military glory, and trampled upon by her enemies, who, to fill up the measure of her humiliation, compelled her to accept of the dynasty of the Bourbons, which she disliked, but was fain to submit to. To appearance, she is now better broke to the yoke, and wears her chains more peaceably-an effect which has been partly brought about by the prudent and temperate administration of Louis, who does not consider himself as the representative of the pride and prejudices of the Bourbons and their adherents, but is content to reign as a revolutionary king, the guardian of revolutionary interests. Notwithstanding this outward calm, however, we cannot doubt that amongst the patriot soldiers and statesmen of France, the prevailing feeling, in regard to recent events, is that of bitter humiliation and mortified pride; and if we consider for a moment what human nature is, how can the French, a proud and national people as they are, but be stung to the quick, by the complete and recently-proclaimed triumph of their enemies? With what a pang must they look back to the past illusion of their country's glory! To form a just notion of the popular feeling in France, we ought to put ourselves in their place, and suppose, for a moment, that the Duke of Wellington had been totally overthrown by the French troops-that the enemy, rapidly advancing and entering the capital, had there dictated a disgraceful peace which we, yielding to necessity, were forced to agree to. What would be the feeling of our patriots and statesinen, and of the na

tion in general in such circumstances? Would patience, in such a case, be ranked among the British virtues? Would we not rather long for an opportunity of revenge, that we might wipe out the stain inflicted on the national honour, by the presence of a hostile army in the capital? and would not such a feeling be held as the true mark of a patriot? Such, then, is the state of France, and such is the popular feeling in that country, which shews itself, by many symptoms, too plain to be mistaken, and by none more strongly than by the uniform hatred evinced to the English, whenever an opportunity occurs of shewing it. This feeling is so prevalent, that it has been seen and experienced by all who have visited the country; and it is nothing more than an expression of indignation, and of mortified pride, at their own humiliation, directed particularly against the English, the authors, as they are generally considered, of all their misfortunes. He knows little of human nature, or of the history of the world, who imagines that, in the great and powerful nation of France, such a deadly feeling of enmity can, for any length of time, lie dormant and innoxious. It will, sooner or later, burst forth, and, in its own time, rekindle the conflagration of war. The symptoms, indeed, of this spirit, are already visible in late dissensions between the Chamber of Deputies and the King of France. This dispute is a complete index to the political feeling prevailing in France. It was evidently intimated by the Chamber to the King, that they considered him the mere tool of the Allied Sovereigns, to whose views he was ready basely to sacrifice the national honour. It was no doubt to the late transactions in Italy that they referred, when they arraigned, in this manner, the policy of the country. They were indignant that Austria, their ancient rival and enemy, should interfere to settle the distractions of Italy according to her own absolute discretion; while France, so lately victorious and allpowerful, should stand by, the tame spectator of events with which she was no longer permitted to concern herself. Considering her former high claims to universal dominion, no

thing can well be conceived more pitiful than her present attitude; no longer dreaming of glory and conquest, but sneaking, as it were, into a corner for safety, and leave ing to other and more powerful states the arduous duties of settling the distractions of dependent nations. It may be said, that all these feelings are irrational and mischievous, seeing that their tendency is to in volve the world in perpetual disturbance. This is no doubt true; France would do well to bury her past greatness in oblivion; to sit down quietly, and, without regard to foreign politics, to direct her cares entirely to domestic improvement. The only rational object of national interference is the security of the state which interferes. But the safe ty of France is in no degree menaced by the transactions of Austria in Italy, and therefore her interference is justified by no principle of policy. It is not, however, with what ought to be done, but with what will be done, that we have any concern. The influence of Austria in Italy piques the jealousy and the pride of the French statesmen; and it is clear, that they view their country as degraded from its rank among the independent powers of Europe. With these feelings, long and keenly cherished, the chance is, that, sooner or later, they will burst forth into some overt act of mischief, by which France will be embroiled with the other European powers; all the materials, in short, of an explosion are prepared, in the heart-burnings and animosities which the last contest has left in the breast of the unsuccessful party. In what particular manner, or at what exact time, the flame will burst forth, it is impossible to say; but that the engines of mischief are already at work that the seed is sown, and will, in due time, produce fruit, is apparent.

In the event of any contest among the European powers, the question is, what will be the policy of Great Britain? That she would consult both her power and her interest, by adhering to the strictest neutrality, seems manifest. But it does not therefore follow that this will be the line of her policy. The enormous debt, however, under which she la

bours, is a strong, and will, we believe, be found an irresistible argument for peace. Her revenue is barely equal to her expenditure, and it cannot be increased, as taxation has been pushed to its utmost limits. A new war, therefore, which would impose the necessity of rais ing extraordinary means, when we cannot do more than provide for the ordinary expenditure of the state, will not, we may be assured, be un dertaken on any of these speculative contingencies, and distant dangers, arising from the disturbance of the political balance, which dwelt so much in our eyes when our pride and our money were in equal abundance. If we mistake not, France and Austria, if they enter into a new war, will be allowed to settle their differences as they best can, without any molestation from this country, further than by her mediation. The drooping spirits of our allies will no longer be refreshed by intoxicating draughts of British money; they have drained out the last drop of this delicious cup; and, in the event of any new war, they must look to themselves for a supply of the exhilarating cordial.

3d, No one who reflects on the state of Italy can, for a moment, believe that it promises any thing like solid rest. The Neapolitans shewed their eagerness for a free constitution in the late peaceable revolution which they effected. They have been since subdued, without a struggle, by a military force. But we may be assured, that they are not, on this atcount, the more reconciled to their conquerors. Their inclinations remain unchanged; and if the Austrian troops should be required for more pressing service, the deep and settled discontent which prevails in Italy, would burst forth into open insurrection. In the case of popular disturbance, nothing is so effectual for present relief as the bayonet; but it leaves the disease, the source of the disturbance, in full vigour. It even aggravates it, kindling a smothered fire in the bosom of the country, which, sooner or later, breaks out into a flame.

4th, Spain and Portugal have just consummated the revolution which has been crushed in Italy by foreign

troops; and we cannot doubt that these powers, which have applied the healing operation of the bayonet to the disturbances in Italy, look with no favourable eye on what has taken place in these countries. But the favourable position of Spain and Portugal, with France interposed between them and Austria, and also their more formidable attitude, has hitherto prevented the interference of foreign powers.

In the present dis

positions, indeed, of the leading men in France, an attempt to march an Austrian or Russian army through that country, to Spain or Portugal, would be equivalent to a declaration of war; and it appears likely, therefore, that those two states will be allowed full liberty to settle their own internal affairs. We are not so perfectly informed as could be wished, of the views of the different parties in the late revolution, and of those who are friendly to the ancient regime: the most melancholy accounts are circulated as to the distracted state of the country, and the disorganization of the government. Making every allowance, however, for exaggeration, it is evident that the country is still in an agitated state, from the shock of the late revolution. Fears and jealousies seem to pervade men's minds. The Cortes and the people repose little confidence in the sincerity of the King; and he, on the other hand, however strongly he may profess, is at bottom an enemy of the new constitution. No king, indeed, was ever yet a friend to any change which restricted his own arbitrary power, and Ferdinand is certainly no exception to so general a rule. It is from this want of confidence between the leading powers in the state, that convulsions may arise, dangerous to the constitution, and to the peace of the country; and to this source, indeed, may be traced all the disorders incident, generally, to revolutions. If the privileges of the people, and the power of the crown, are found incompatible, one or other must be discharged; and in the shock of those irreconcileable powers, the whole system of government is brought to the ground. This was the case in England during the reign of Charles 1.; also at the revolution in 1688; and in France with Louis XVI. It

is seldom that a civil war of exter mination can rage in a state without overthrowing the machinery of its constitution. Men's passions are gradually kindled in the course of these contests; in the wide-spreading scene of confusion, new objects arise to dazzle ambition; and when every thing is afloat and in disorder, bold adventurers are never wanting, to grasp at the prize of the supreme power. Such is, unhappily, the too frequent progress of revolutions, though begun on the justest grounds. Whether this state of things will be realized in Spain, cannot yet be determined. If the King manifests an inveterate enmity to the new order of things, he may possibly be removed, as was our James II., without much disturbance. Such is his unpopula rity, that it is not likely he can make a party of any consequence; and his abdication of the crown, or his expulsion, in place of creating any tumult, might possibly remove the only impediment to a peaceable settlement of the national affairs..

5th, In the north of Europe, the prospect of a war between Turkey and Russia has for some time past fixed the attention of Europe. Russia, justly incensed at the late atrocious and unprovoked massacre of the Greeks by the Turks, remonstrated against these lawless proceedings. A negociation has commenced, of which the issue was long doubtful, but which now appears to be unsuccessful, notwithstanding the earnest efforts of Austria and Britain for the preservation of peace. War will, in all likelihood, take place between these powers, which will open a wide field for Russian enterprize, and will give ample employment to her numerous and well-disciplined armies. In such a war, there can be little doubt of success. The Turks were never able to offer any effectual opposition to the Russians; and since the last contest, the disparity between the two parties has rather increased. The Russians have been involved as principals in all the late wars in Europe; their armies have acquired discipline and experience, and their officers science; while the Turks have all the while remained at peace. In the field, therefore, they would be quite overmatched by the Russians. In an