When, about the year 1899, Field-marshal Dowbiggin, full of years and honours, shall edit, with copious notes, the Private Correspondence of his kinsman, Queen Victoria's celebrated War Minister during England's bloody struggle with Russia in 1854-5, the grandchildren of the present generation may probably learn a good deal more respecting the real causes of the failures and shortcomings of that "horrible and heartrending" period than we, their grandfathers, are likely to know on this side our graves.
And when some future Earl of Pembroke shall devote his splendid leisure, under the cedar groves of Wilton, to preparing for the information of the twentieth century the memoirs of his great ancestor, Mr. Secretary Herbert, posterity will then run some chance of discovering—what is kept a close secret from the public just now—whether any domestic causes exist to justify the invasion-panic under which the nation has recently been shivering.
The insular position of England, her lofty cliffs, her stormy seas, her winter fogs, fortify her with everlasting fortifications, as no other European power is fortified. She is rich, she is populous, she contains within herself an abundance of coal, iron, timber, and almost all other munitions of war; railways intersect and encircle her on all sides; in patriotism, in loyalty, in manliness, in intelligence, her sons yield to no other race of men. Blest with all these advantages, she ought, of all the nations of Europe, to be the last to fear, the readiest to repel invasion; yet, strange to say, of all the nations of Europe, England appears to apprehend invasion most!
There must be some good and sufficient reason for this extraordinary state of things. Many reasons are daily assigned for it, all differing from each other, all in turn disputed and denied by those who know the real reason best.
The statesman and the soldier declare that the fault lies with parliament and the people. They complain that parliament is niggardly in placing sufficient means at the disposal of the executive, and that the people are distrustful and over-inquisitive as to their application; ever too ready to attribute evil motives and incapacity to those set in authority over them. Parliament and the people, on the other hand, reply, that ample means are yearly allotted for the defence of the country, and that more would readily be forthcoming, had they reason to suppose that what has already been spent, has been well spent; their Humes and their Brights loudly and harshly denounce the nepotism, the incapacity, and the greed, which, according to them, disgrace the governing classes, and waste and weaken the resources of the land. And so the painful squabble ferments—no probable end to it being in view. Indeed, the public are permitted to know so little of the conduct of their most important affairs—silence is so strictly enjoined to the men at the helm—that the most carefully prepared
