but no man of 50, or even 40, who remembers his own bodily powers and spirits at 25, will be at a loss for a more adequate cause of this disparity, between the conscripts of Buonaparte, and the veterans of Frederick the Great.

How different was the case with Moreau, in his famous retreat before the Archduke Charles, in the campaign of 1796? He had to make his way through a hostile country, from the Danube to the Rhine, by a most difficult route of three hundred miles in length; and yet effected it with so little loss, that the retreat was held to be more glorious than a conquest. Yet nothing is recorded of that exploit, that may not be fully explained by the same bodily superiority of his troops. He made forced marches of such length, and with such extreme perseverance, as baffled all the efforts of his enemies.

Whether, therefore, in, advancing or retreating, our enemies triumph by the juvenility of their soldiers. Their innovations on the old system of war, are calculated to make the most of this advantage. They have wisely turned war, from a minuet into a race; for they are sure that their veteran enemies, will first be out of breath.

Nor is the same superiority unfelt in the field of battle. No man has as much active or animal courage at 45, as he had at 21. | The passive courage of the veteran, it is true, may be increased, rather than diminished by experience; that is, he may stand longer motionless under a cannonade, or the fire of musquetry; and be more coolly obedient to orders, and observant of discipline. Hence also the old tactics suited him perhaps better than the new.. But now, the steadiness of troops alone will not suffice; their strength, and spirits, are tried to the uttermost, by brisk, persevering, and reiterated attacks; new troops are brought up from distant quarters, with such rapidity, that they arrive before they were known to be on the march; and the bayonet, is employed with a frequency formerly unknown. Sometimes, it is brought into action late in a hard fought day; and when a line of steady veterans are already fatigued, and nearly exhausted, by a long continued engagement, they are suddenly assailed with that formidable weapon. At the battle of Marengo, victory long hovered in suspense; and the Austrians, after many hours of brave and arduous conflict, were about, perhaps, to reap the fruits of their perseverance, when the same young soldiers, who had lately rushed from Dijon across the Alps, charged them vigorously with the bayonet, and the fate of Europe was decided.

To what extent these reflections are liable to controversy, I know not. They seem to me, to rest upon plain reason, and ac knowledged fact.But, if any man doubt, whether the youth of a soldier be a great advantage under the new system of war, when he is opposed to a well disciplined veteran; at least it will be universally admitted, that the young are far better qualified to form new habits, and sustain unaccustomed hardships, than the old. There is in this view, if in no other, an undeniable importance in the age of our volunteers. A man who has been in the army thirty years, may be as hardy, though not so agile or vigorous, as his younger comrade; but if two men, of different ages are to be taken at once from the tender habits of domestic life, and exposed to the toils of a campaign, who can hesitate to say, that the younger, is likely best to sustain the trying effects of the transition.

Let it be fairly considered, how extreme the contrast would be, between the duties to which a volunteer, in the event of invasion, would be summoned, and the ordinary habits of a man who has always resided in the bosom of his family, in a commercial town or city. Even to young men, if used to the comforts commonly enenjoyed by the middle ranks of Englishmen, the change would be painful enough; but to sustain, for a few days or weeks, hardships before unknown, would be to them, if not an easy, at least a practicable task. Not so to a man who has passed his prime, without having ever learned to bear the inconveniences of wet clothes, bad lodgings, watching, fatigue, and the other sufferings incident to a military life. The sense of honour, or fear of shame, might indeed goad him on, to endure them for a while: but he would soon be reduced to an absolute incapacity of further perseverance. He might continue his march, or stand under arms a second day, or a third ́ perhaps; but at length would be obliged, however reluctantly, to ask leave to retire, or sink under the weight of his sufferings

Nor would the loss of service of such feeble soldiers, be the only ill consequence of their involuntary failure. The years, and the situations in life, which unfit them for active service, naturally give them more influence in the corps to which they belong, than younger members; and an example, the necessity of which might however painfully felt by themselves, be equivocal in the eyes of others, would have a contagious effect. They would at first retard the corps by their languor, and afterwards dishearten it by their defection.

On the whole therefore, I conclude, that those truly patriotic and valuable establishments, our volunteer corps, are as now consti

M

tuted, from the ages and confirmed habits of many of their members, as well as from some existing defects of a remediable kind, which have been noticed by others, a species of force not well qualified to repel, by laborious and persevering efforts, the impetuous armies of France.

After all, have we effective soldiers, regular or irregular, sufficient in point of numbers, to make the country perfectly safe against a powerful invasion?

The volunteers, much more than the regulars, are dispersed in every part of the island; and no great proportion of them could be convened at any given point, soon enough to stop the progress of an enemy, who might land on our eastern or southern coast, before he could become master of London. Besides, the defects which I have just been stating, would be found peculiarly fatal, if such troops were to be marched from distant parts of the island, immédiately prior to their being brought into action.

Of the volunteers now enrolled throughout the kingdom, a great many are certainly, in point of discipline as well as bodily qualifications, unfit for actual service; and a large proportion even of those who are returned as effective, will not be found so upon trial?—It is too common, I fear, to keep every member on the effective list, who has once exercised with the corps in battalion upon an inspection or general muster; though perhaps, he never was perfect even in his manual exercise, and has forgot the little he once learned of it. These undisciplined effectives too, are, it is probable, increasing very rapidly, in almost every corps not receiving pay, though their nominal force remains undiminished.

Without enlarging on this subject, I will hazard an opinion that there are not 50,000 volunteers in the whole island, now ready to' take the field, and fit to act against an enemy; yet were there six times as many, it would be difficult to draw together two armies of that amount, time to make a first, and second stand, for the existence of their country. Supposing a battle to be lost, and London in the hands of the invaders, the subsequent junction of volunteers who are scattered over the whole face of the island, would be no easy work. With a most active and energetic enemy in the centre, the communications between the east and the west, the north and the south, of the island, would not be long open. The hope therefore of further resistance, would depend, not merely on our having enough of effective volunteers, to form a powerful reserve, but on their being sufficiently numerous, to make head in different parts of the country at the same moment, and fight their way in large bo

dies to a general rendezvous, though opposed by powerful detach

ments.

If it be objected, that these calculations are founded on an assumption that we should be taken by surprise; I answer, that our notice of an approaching invasion would probably be extremely short, and quite insufficient for the purpose of embodying our volunteers throughout the island, prior to the actual descent. The means of suddenly embarking a large army at Boulogne, are continually at the enemy's command. The only requisite for invasion therefore, which, unless he trusts to the flotilla alone, he must provide by new expedients, is a convoying fleet: and this, as has been already shewn, he may very possibly obtain by a preconcerted junction of different squadrons off that or some neighbouring port. But the only probable means of so obtaining a temporary superiority in the channel are so far from being inconsistent with secrecy, that they necessarily imply that quality; nor would the opportunity when found, admit of any delay. It seems not unlikely therefore, that the same day would bring us advice that the blockade of Boulogne was raised by a strong hostile fleet, and that the troops were beginning to embark: nor is it impossible, that the flotilla might be already on our coast, before the danger could be announced by government, at any great distance from London.

What then is to be done in order to prepare effectually against the danger of such a surprise, with our present means of interior defence? Are the volunteers to be called from their homes, and marched into distant parts of the kingdom, there to be formed into armies, on every alarm? The repetition of such costly and vexatious means of preparation, would soon exhaust both the purse and the patience of the country. Besides, as the danger must always be imminent as long as a large army is encamped within sight of our coasts, and the most specious indications of an immediate intention to embark, could be easily made, the enemy, if he found he could reduce us to such costly defensive expedients, would take care we should have alarms enough to harrass our volunteers prior to an actual attempt. It is plain then, that forces which are to be assembled from many different districts of the kingdom, at the expense of every branch of civil industry, as well as of domestic comfort, must probably be, for the most part, unembodied when the enemy is on his way to our shores.

What is the practical conclusion from these remarks? That the volunteers ought to be disbanded, or discouraged?—far from it-that their numbers ought to be very greatly increased, and their disci

pline improved. But that if this cannot be effected, some other means must be found, to cover the country more abundantly with armed citizens, fully prepared for its defence.

The danger of a surprise will obviously be less formidable, the mischief of losing a battle less irreparable, the power of assembling new armies even after the loss of the capital, less difficult, in proportion as our volunteers, or other defensive forces, become more abun. dant. But there is another consideration of great weight, which we need not disdain to learn from Buonaparte. In a late decree or proclamation for multiplying still further his forces by new conscriptions, he observes, that while the objects of the war are better secured by increasing the amount of the forces employed in it, war itself becomes less sanguinary, to the party who has a great supe, riority in numbers; resistance being speedily subdued, and the horrors of a long protracted contest avoided. The justice of the doctrine, as applied to his own enterprizes, may indeed well be doubted; because he extends his operations, and his ambitious designs, in proportion to the magnitude of the force which he progressively acquires. But if applied to a war, the field and object of which are limited, and especially to a war of interior defence, the remark is self-evidently true. The greater therefore the amount of our defensive force, regular or irregular, the less of British blood will be shed in the event of an invasion, while the dreadful issue of a foreign yoke will be the more certainly averted.

Besides, a feeble, and barely adequate preparation, though it might serve to repel, would not prevent invasion; and our country would be redeemed at a painful cost, though far inferior to the unspeakable value of the pledge, if we had to combat a powerful French army on British ground, with the arms of our volunteers. But if the people were generally armed in defence of the country, few or none might have to bleed for it. The enemy, in all probability, would not dare to assail, on their own soil, a whole nation of soldiers. But if he should act with such temerity he would be repulsed with an overwhelming energy, that would for ever preclude a renewal of the mischievous attempt.

War too itself might be shortened by such decisive preparations. The enemy seeing that we are not to be conquered, might be glad to give us peace: not such a peace as would make him speedily master of our fate; not a peace by which he would add the sea to the shores of his tremendous dominion in the old world, by ceding to us another colony or two in the new; but a peace of real security, and genuine honour: a peace by which, in some degree at least, the sad destiny