Reflect upon what was the temper and condition of the Southern Peninsula of Europe—­the noble temper of the people of this mighty island sovereigns of the all-embracing ocean; think also of the condition of so vast a region in the Western, continent and its islands; and we shall have cause to fear that ages may pass away before a conjunction of things, so marvellously adapted to ensure prosperity to virtue, shall present itself again.  It could scarcely be spoken of as being to the wishes of men,—­it was so far beyond their hopes.—­The government which had been exercised under the name of the old Monarchy of Spain—­this government, imbecile even to dotage, whose very selfishness was destitute of vigour, had been removed; taken laboriously and foolishly by the plotting Corsican to his own bosom; in order that the world might see, more triumphantly set forth than since the beginning of things had ever been seen before, to what degree a man of bad principles is despicable—­though of great power—­working blindly against his own purposes.  It was a high satisfaction to behold demonstrated, in this manner, to what a narrow domain of knowledge the intellect of a Tyrant must be confined; that if the gate by which wisdom enters has never been opened, that of policy will surely find moments when it will shut itself against its pretended master imperiously and obstinately.  To the eyes of the very peasant in the field, this sublime truth was laid open—­not only that a Tyrant’s domain of knowledge is narrow, but melancholy as narrow; inasmuch as—­from all that is lovely, dignified, or exhilarating in the prospect of human nature—­he is inexorably cut off; and therefore he is inwardly helpless and forlorn.

Was not their hope in this—­twofold hope; from the weakness of him who had thus counteracted himself; and a hope, still more cheering, from the strength of those who had been disburthened of a cleaving curse by an ordinance of Providence—­employing their most wilful and determined enemy to perform for them the best service which man could perform?  The work of liberation was virtually accomplished—­we might almost say, established.  The interests of the people were taken from a government whose sole aim it had been to prop up the last remains of its own decrepitude by betraying those whom it was its duty to protect;—­withdrawn from such hands, to be committed to those of the people; at a time when the double affliction which Spain had endured, and the return of affliction with which she was threatened, made it impossible that the emancipated Nation could abuse its new-born strength to any substantial injury to itself.—­Infinitely less favourable to all good ends was the condition of the French people when, a few years past, a Revolution made them, for a season, their own masters,—­rid them from the incumbrance of superannuated institutions—­the galling pressure of so many unjust laws—­and the tyranny of bad customs.  The Spaniards became their own masters:  and the blessing lay in this,