Grenville, a minister eminently diligent and practical, took of our financial situation.  The nation must, he conceived, sink under a debt of a hundred and forty millions, unless a portion of the load were borne by the American colonies.  The attempt to lay a portion of the load on the American colonies produced another war.  That war left us with an additional hundred millions of debt, and without the colonies whose help had been represented as indispensable.  Again England was given over; and again the strange patient persisted in becoming stronger and more blooming in spite of all the diagnostics and prognostics of State physicians.  As she had been visibly more prosperous with a debt of a hundred and forty millions than with a debt of fifty millions, so she, as visibly more prosperous with a debt of two hundred and forty millions than with a debt of a hundred and forty millions.  Soon however the wars which sprang from the French Revolution, and which far exceeded in cost any that the world had ever seen, tasked the powers of public credit to the utmost.  When the world was again at rest the funded debt of England amounted to eight hundred millions.  If the most enlightened man had been told, in 1792, that, in 1815, the interest on eight hundred millions would be duly paid to the day at the Bank, he would have been as hard of belief as if he had been told that the government would be in possession of the lamp of Aladdin or of the purse of Fortunatus.  It was in truth a gigantic, a fabulous debt; and we can hardly wonder that the cry of despair should have been louder than ever.  But again that cry was found to have been as unreasonable as ever.  After a few years of exhaustion, England recovered herself.  Yet, like Addison’s valetudinarian, who continued to whimper that he was dying of consumption till he became so fat that he was shamed into silence, she went on complaining that she was sunk in poverty till her wealth showed itself by tokens which made her complaints ridiculous.  The beggared, the bankrupt society not only proved able to meet all its obligations, but, while meeting those obligations, grew richer and richer so fast that the growth could almost be discerned by the eye.  In every county, we saw wastes recently turned into gardens; in every city, we saw new streets, and squares, and markets, more brilliant lamps, more abundant supplies of water; in the suburbs of every great seat of industry, we saw villas multiplying fast, each embosomed in its gay little paradise of lilacs and roses.  While shallow politicians were repeating that the energies of the people were borne down by the weight of the public burdens, the first journey was performed by steam on a railway.  Soon the island was intersected by railways.  A sum exceeding the whole amount of the national debt at the end of the American war was, in a few years, voluntarily expended by this ruined people in viaducts, tunnels, embankments, bridges, stations, engines.  Meanwhile taxation was almost constantly becoming lighter and lighter; yet still the Exchequer was full.  It may be now affirmed without fear of contradiction that we find it as easy to pay the interest of eight hundred millions as our ancestors found it, a century ago, to pay the interest of eighty millions.