it with this conviction belongs to Mr. Wilberforce, whose untiring, unswerving devotion of brilliant eloquence and practical ability to the one holy object, and whose ultimate success, give him a just claim to be reckoned among the great men of a generation than which the world has seen none more prolific of every kind of greatness.  But the nation itself is also entitled to no slight credit for having so rapidly appreciated the force of his teaching, and for having encouraged its representatives to listen to his voice, by the knowledge that by adopting his measures they would be carrying out the wish and determination of the whole people.

A measure for the strengthening of the army, introduced by the Secretary of State for War, Mr. Windham, though not one of perpetual force, since it required to be renewed every year, claims a brief mention, from the extent to which one of its clauses trenched on the freedom of the subject, by making every man of military age (from sixteen years old[164] to forty) liable to be compelled to submit to military training for a certain period of each year.  “Nothing,” to quote the Secretary’s words, “was to exempt any man from the general training but his becoming a volunteer at his own expense, the advantage of which would be that he could train himself if he chose, and fight, if occasion required it, in the corps to which he should belong, instead of being liable to fall in among the regulars....  As out of the immense mass of the population some selection must be made, those called on to be trained were to be selected by lot, and he would have the people divided into three classes, between the ages of sixteen and forty:  the first class to comprehend all from sixteen to twenty-four; the second, those between twenty-four and thirty-two; and the third, all from thirty-two to forty.  The number of days for training he proposed to limit to twenty-six, with an allowance of a shilling a day for each man.”  The result aimed at by this part of his measure was the creation of a force different from and unconnected with the militia; and he did not conceal his hope that the military habits which it would implant in a large portion of the population would lead many of those thus about to be trained to enlist in the regular army.  To the militia itself he paid a high but not undeserved compliment, declaring it “for home service certainly equal to any part of our regular forces, with the single exception that it had never seen actual service.”  But the militia could not be called on to serve out of the kingdom; and his object was to increase the force available for foreign service—­“to see the great mass of the population of the country so far trained as to be able to recruit immediately whatever losses the regular army might sustain in action.”  As yet, the number of men yearly obtained by recruiting fell far short of the requirements of the service.  Wellington had not yet begun that career of victory which created a national enthusiasm for war, and filled