France has teemed with ambition, like the earth in seed time. These circumstances have imparted to the French character, always highly susceptible, a most extraordinary energy. And if any persons, wedded to a favourite system, shall please to say, that, as the hope of liberty is now extinguished, the French are no longer ardent enthusiasts, but reluctant slaves, let them be told, that the ardour for glory remains, though the passion for liberty is no more. The people are now engaged in a more intelligible, and, be it added, a more enchanting pursuit. They believe, that they know how to beat their enemies; and that they do not know how to prevent or remedy the oppressions of their rulers. It will be conceded, also, that the revolution has brought forward the ablest generals, and that Buonaparte has employed them.

ADMITTING, then, that the French armies are numerous enough, that they are well commanded, and that the soldiers have the double advantage of strict discipline and actual service, it is not easy to discern the grounds, on which the English seem so confidently to rely, that the French will be beaten. The Austrians and Russians are, no doubt, good soldiers; not better, however, than the French. It is to be feared, the coalition will be defeated in its first attempts.* The great distance of the Russian dominions, and the deficiency of pecuniary means scarcely allow us to expect, that Russia will persevere long, in a very unhopeful contest. Austria, without Russia, is certainly unequal to the contest. It is probable, that much is expected from the first impression of the arms of the coalesced powers; if that expectation should fail, we cannot see any motives Russia has for fighting on, campaign after campaign, in case France should hold out to resist.

AND is there the least reason to suppose, France will not hold out to resist many years? The glory of France is the cause of all Frenchmen-pity it is, we pence-saving Americans had not

In justice to the writer of these speculations, it must be remarked, that they were pen ned at least ten days before the report arrived of the capture of thirty thousand Austrians. Note of the Newspaper Editor.

a small spice of their character. They will suffer much, and attempt every thing, sooner than permit their enemies to triumph over them: defeats, by irritating their vanity, will rouse their spirit.

WE shall be told in reply, it is only the splendour of success, that attaches the French to the fortune of Buonaparte. But they are really, in their inmost souls, proud of that success. Besides, let it be remembered, every thing that is now exalted in France would be brought low again, by the return of the Bourbons: there is nothing left in church or state, that is not the work of the revolution. The Bourbons might pardon rebels and usurpers; but could they employ them all, or trust any of them? Could they refuse to employ, or trust the emigrant nobility, who have borne exile and poverty with them? Yet this must be refused, or the nobles and princes of the new order of things must step down again to the democratick floor. Probably a million of active high-spirited men in France, now in some office, would hazard life, and, perhaps, scorn it as a condition of disgrace, sooner than restore the Bourbons.

WHERE, then, is the reason to suppose, that France will not make efforts, endure reverses, and even create another tyrant, in case Buonaparte should fall in battle, or die in his bed? Where is the country in Europe, that has so little to fear from division within, as France? as France, we say, still smarting with the sense, and, in case of Buonaparte's death, ready to quake with the dread, of the curse of civil war?

THE French despotism, we greatly fear, will prove a Colossus of iron, which this coalition will be unable to hew down with the sword, or to lift from its place. Another revolution, like an earthquake, might break its limbs; and time will slowly corrode it with rust: in fifty years it may be still hateful to its neighbours, and dreadful only to Frenchmen. We have not the most to hope from the powers, that are nearest its own size; but from that, which has the capacity to maintain the longest resistance: we mean England. For the reasons we have before assigned, it is our belief, the French despotism will never be more formidable than it is now: if it should not finish

its conquering work, while Buonaparte lives, it will never be finished. This is clear, if it cannot conquer England, it will not conquer the world. Thus we are brought to the question, so perpetually recurring to our anxiety, so awfully interesting to every civilized nation in the world, will France be able to conquer England?

It is commonly said, if the British navy did not protect that island, it would be certainly conquered. This is no part of our creed. A state containing fifteen or sixteen millions of souls is not to be conquered, unless the government is of a sort to breed factions, and one of them joins the foreign enemy to enslave the state. There is every appearance, that the French faction in England, which in the beginning of the revolution was so clamorous and formidable, is now equally destitute of pretext, and of means of mischief. If the British channel should be filled with gravel, and raked, and hardened, like a turnpike, the English would become more military, and have to fight many desperate battles for their liberty, which, though they should loose those battles, they would ultimately preserve. Certainly, there is no want of physical force, no deficiency of courage to maintain it, even if the coast of Brittany touched the coast of Essex.

WITH these opinions it follows, that the threatened invasion was one of the most desirable events: it afforded the only certain and near prospect of the disgrace and overthrow of the French power. If the coalition really hindered the invasion, it has done England an injury, which it will never repair. But, as the attempt was long delayed, and the conduct of Austria and Russia was so ostentatiously complained of for hindering its execution, there is great reason to believe, there was no serious intention to make it.

GREAT BRITAIN, now, can expect no such hopeful opportunity to cripple her adversary, as long as the coalition lasts: her hopes are rested on the military operations of the coalesced powers. This is one of the serious evils of that coalition. Englishmen are, unhappily, made to depend on the efforts of Russians and Austrians, which we apprehend (and we have taken some pains to explain the grounds of our apprehensions)

will ultimately fail of their object. They depend too much on others, too little on themselves. Should Russia find some ambitious reasons for deserting the alliance, Austria must become a vassal of France. England must then face her adversary alone, with his insolence and means augmented, and weariness and despair pervading every English heart. Then, perhaps, she would think herself obliged to make peace. Thus the tired traveller, benumbed with cold, grows drowsy and sits down to rest he sleeps, to wake no more. England would be more certainly ruined by peace, than Buonaparte by the invasion. If, instead of using her arms, she trusts a second time to her enemy's moderation, he will never permit her to resume them. A peace by England, after the defeat of the new coalition, will give to France, an unlimited command of means of every sort. The Persian kings did not encourage commerce, but the Phoenicians, Rhodians, and people of Cyprus did, and, of course, the king of Persia could command the sea. Tributary Europe would furnish treasure to build fleets; and the whole coast from the Baltick to the Adriatick would supply seamen. We Americans are already advised to interdict the manufactures of England; and France will oblige every other country to do it. While the war lasts, necessity is stronger than even French despotism: all Europe, and even France herself, consumes British goods; but peace would restore to Buonaparte the power to shut all the ports of Europe against England.

WHAT, then, are we to think of the coalition, as it affects England, but that it will deceive her hopes and aggravate her embarrassments? Standing alone, and depending solely on herself, she is invincible. It is in her power without any material diminution of her wealth, and with a diminished hazard of her safety, to fight France, till French despotism becomes wasted with its vices and decrepid with age; till it loses much of its impetuosity, and employs half its force in quelling insurrections; till the legion of honour shall create one emperour, the army of the Rhine a second, and the army of Italy a third.

THE SUCCESSES OF BUONAPARTE.

First published in the Repertory, March, 1806.

THE rapid and decisive successes of Buonaparte have infla

ted the ignorant rabble of our democrats with admiration, and filled every reflecting mind with astonishment and terrour. The means, that most men deemed adequate to the reduction of his power, have failed of their effect, and have gone to swell the Colossal mass that oppresses Europe: his foes are become his satellites. Austria, the German states, Prussia, Naples, and perhaps Sweden, seem to have been fated, like comets, to a shock with the sun, not to thrust him from his orb, but to supply his waste of elemental fire. Buonaparte not only sees the prowess of Europe at his feet, but all its force and treasure in his hands. We except Russia and England. But Russia is one of those comets on its excursion into the void regions of space, and is already dim in the political sky; England passes, like Mercury, a dark spot over the sun's disk; and to Buonaparte himself, she seems, like the moon, to intercept his rays. He cannot endure to see her so near his splendour, without being dazzled or consumed by it.

He wants nothing but the British navy, to realize the most extravagant schemes of his ambition. A war, that should give him possession of it, or a peace, like the last, that should humble England, and withdraw her navy from any further opposition to his arms, would give the civilized world a mas

ter.

All the French, and, of course, all our loyal democrats have affected to treat that apprehension as chimerical. Yet who, even among those whom faction has made blind, could refuse to see, that the transfer of the British navy to France, would irreversibly fix the long-depending destiny of mankind, to bear the weight and ignominy of a new Roman domination.

WE may say the aggravated weight, for Rome preserved her morals, till she had achieved her conquests; France be