the stake played for.  The nation required that the French should surrender at discretion;—­grant that the victory of Vimiera had excited some unreasonable impatience—­we were not so overweening as to demand that the enemy should surrender within a given time, but that they should surrender.  Every thing, short of this, was felt to be below the duties of the occasion; not only no service, but a grievous injury.  Only as far as there was a prospect of forcing the enemy to an unconditional submission, did the British Nation deem that they had a right to interfere;—­if that prospect failed, they expected that their army would know that it became it to retire, and take care of itself.  But our Generals have told us, that the Convention would not have been admitted, if they had not judged it right to effect, even upon these terms, the evacuation of Portugal—­as ministerial to their future services in Spain.  If this had been a common war between two established governments measuring with each other their regular resources, there might have been some appearance of force in this plea.  But who does not cry out at once, that the affections and opinions, that is, the souls of the people of Spain and Portugal, must be the inspiration and the power, if this labour is to be brought to a happy end?  Therefore it was worse than folly to think of supporting Spain by physical strength, at the expence of moral.  Besides, she was strong in men; she never earnestly solicited troops from us; some of the Provinces had even refused them when offered,—­and all had been lukewarm in the acceptance of them.  The Spaniards could not ultimately be benefited but by Allies acting under the same impulses of honour, roused by a sense of their wrongs, and sharing their loves and hatreds—­above all, their passion for justice.  They had themselves given an example, at Baylen, proclaiming to all the world what ought to be aimed at by those who would uphold their cause, and be associated in arms with them.  And was the law of justice, which Spaniards, Spanish peasantry, I might almost say, would not relax in favour of Dupont, to be relaxed by a British army in favour of Junot?  Had the French commander at Lisbon, or his army, proved themselves less perfidious, less cruel, or less rapacious than the other?  Nay, did not the pride and crimes of Junot call for humiliation and punishment far more importunately, inasmuch as his power to do harm, and therefore his will, keeping pace with it, had been greater?  Yet, in the noble letter of the Governor of Cadiz to Dupont, he expressly tells him, that his conduct, and that of his army, had been such, that they owed their lives only to that honour which forbad the Spanish army to become executioners.  The Portugueze also, as appears from various letters produced before the Board of Inquiry, have shewn to our Generals, as boldly as their respect for the British Nation would permit them to do, what they expected.  A Portugueze General, who was also a member of the