Fantasy fiction; Imaginary wars and battles -- Fiction; War stories
There, too, they had to eat the bread of tribulation
under the yoke of the conqueror! Their fall was hardly more sudden or
violent than ours; but war could not take away their rich soil; they
had no colonies to lose; their broad lands, which made their wealth,
remained to them; and they rose again from the blow. But our people
could not be got to see how artificial our prosperity was--that it all
rested on foreign trade and financial credit; that the course of trade
once turned away from us, even for a time, it might never return; and
that our credit once shaken might never be restored. To hear men talk
in those days, you would have thought that Providence had ordained
that our Government should always borrow at 3 per cent., and that
trade came to us because we lived in a foggy little island set in a
boisterous sea. They could not be got to see that the wealth heaped up
on every side was not created in the country, but in India and China,
and other parts of the world; and that it would be quite possible for
the people who made money by buying and selling the natural treasures
of the earth, to go and live in other places, and take their profits
with them. Nor would men believe that there could ever be an end to
our coal and iron, or that they would get to be so much dearer than
the coal and iron of America that it would no longer be worth while
to work them, and that therefore we ought to insure against the loss
of our artificial position as the great centre of trade, by making
ourselves secure and strong and respected. We thought we were living
in a commercial millennium, which must last for a thousand years at
least. After all, the bitterest part of our reflection is, that all
this misery and decay might have been so easily prevented, and that
we brought it about ourselves by our own shortsighted recklessness.
There, across the narrow Straits, was the writing on the wall, but we
would not choose to read it. The warnings of the few were drowned in
the voice of the multitude. Power was then passing away from the class
which had been used to rule, and to face political dangers, and which
had brought the nation with honour unsullied through former struggles,
into the hands of the lower classes, uneducated, untrained to the use
of political rights, and swayed by demagogues; and the few who were
wise in their generation were denounced as alarmists, or as aristocrats
who sought their own aggrandisement by wasting public money on bloated
armaments. The rich were idle and luxurious; the poor grudged the cost
of defence. Politics had become a mere bidding for Radical votes, and
those who should have led the nation stooped rather to pander to the
selfishness of the day, and humoured the popular cry which denounced
those who would secure the defence of the nation by enforced arming of
its manhood, as interfering with the liberties of the people. Truly the
nation was ripe for a fall; but when I reflect how a little firmness
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account