if lacking the breadth, grip and finesse that marked that of France and Russia, yet possessed the sterling merits of manly truthfulness and staunch fidelity.  The words quoted above were the words of Canning, but the spirit that animated them was that of George III.  His storm-tossed life was now verging towards the dread bourne of insanity; but it was given to him to make this stern yet half-pleading appeal to the Czar’s better nature.  And who shall say that the example of constancy which the aged King displayed amidst the gathering gloom of his public and private life did not ultimately bear fruit in the later and grander phase of Alexander’s character and career?

Meanwhile Napoleon was bursting through the Spanish defence.  The patriots, puffed up with their first successes, had been indulging in dreams of an invasion of France; and their provincial juntas quarrelled over the sharing of the future spoils as over the apportionment of English arms and money.  Their awakening was terrible.  With less than 90,000 raw troops they were attacked by 250,000 men led by the greatest warrior of the age.  Everywhere they were routed, and at a last fight at the pass over the Somosierra mountain, the superiority of the French was strikingly shown.  While the Spaniards were pouring down grapeshot on the struggling masses of the assailants, the Emperor resolved to hurl his light Polish horse uphill at the death-dealing guns.  Dashingly was the order obeyed.  Some forty or fifty riders bit the dust, but the rest swept on, sabred the gunners, and decided the day.  The Spaniards, amazed at these unheard-of tactics, took to their heels, and nothing now stayed Napoleon’s entry into Madrid (December 4th).  There he strove to popularize Joseph’s rule by offering several desirable reforms, such as the abolition of feudal laws and of the Inquisition.  It was of no avail.  The Spaniards would have none of them at his hands.

After a brief stay in Madrid, he turned to crush Sir John Moore.  That brave soldier, relying on the empty promises of the patriots, had ventured into the heart of Leon with a British force of 26,000 men.  If he could not save Madrid, he could at least postpone a French conquest of the south.  In this he succeeded; his chivalrous daring drew on him the chief strength of the invaders; and when hopelessly outnumbered he beat a lion-like retreat to Corunna.  There he turned and dealt the French a blow that closed his own career with glory and gained time for his men to embark in safety.

While the red-coats saw the snowy heights of Galicia fade into the sky, Napoleon was spurring back to the Pyrenees.  He had received news that portended war with Austria; and, cherishing the strange belief that Spain was conquered, he rushed back to Paris to confront the Hapsburg Power.  But Spain was not conquered.  Scattered her armies were in the open, and even brave Saragossa fell in glorious ruins under Lannes’ persistent attacks.  But the patriots fiercely rallied in the mountains, and Napoleon was to find out the truth of the Roman historian’s saying:  “In no land does the character of the people and the nature of the country help to repair disasters more readily than in Spain.”