exhibited upon the face of the earth.' The emperor of the French has met with the most formidable opposit on to his tyranny where he least expected it; and where we thought it was never likely to take place. The supposed apathy and ignorance of the Spanish people seemed to render it in the highest degree improbable that they would be the first among the nations of the Continent who would make any general and effectual stand against the domination of Bonaparte. But recent events have proved that they were neither unconscious of his designs,indifferent to the fate of their country, nor unwilling to engage in an arduous conflict to rescue it from the humiliation of a weak government, and from subjection to a foreign power.

The means which Bonaparte took to secure the possession of the country, have fortunately been such as to defeat the end which he had in view. He has at once shocked the moral feeling as well as the political and religious prejudices of the country. His treachery has irreparably of fended that sense of honour which is indigenous in the people of Spain. He sends an army into the country under the most friendly pretexts, and immediately employs it to subvert the government. He invites the royal family to Bayonne under the pledge of hospitality and protection; and, as soon as they are in his power, he sends them all prisoners into France. Bonaparte has, at the same time, shocked the religious prejudices of the Spaniards by depriving the pope of his dominions; and those who know the force of religious prejudice in such a superstitious and priestridden country, will readily conceive that Bonaparte has, in this instance, armed against himself one of the most formidable foes which he ever had to encounter. But the Corsican seems to have reached such a pinnacle of power as to have become all at once intoxicated on the giddy height. Thus his usual caution has forsaken him; and he seems rashly to have determined on the subjection of Spain without previously providing the means or calculating the probable difficulties of the execution. He probably despised the people, and thought that frand combined with a very small degree of force, would be sufficient to enable him to juggle the nation out of their rights and independence. But though Bonaparte may have the strength and the ferocity of Antæus, we believe that he has raised up a Hercules in the Spanish patriots that will crush him to atoms.

The contest may be long and bloody, but we feel a firm conviction that the patriotism of the Spaniard will finally triumph over the perfidy of the Gaul. We think the pre

sent removal of the royal family highly auspicious to the cause of the patriots, not only from the proof which it has afforded of the treachery and injustice of the French, and from the consequent indignation which it has diffused throughout Spain, but because the current of the popular sentiment in favour of liberty and independence, meeting with no obstructions from the jealous fears or the despo tic propensities of the court, will accumulate into a mass of force that will bear down all opposition.

On this subject we are, perhaps, more sanguine than Mr. Whitbread; but our opinion is, that no despot upon earth, let his force be what it may, can finally subjugate a nation of such considerable magnitude as that of Spain, which, to a man, is resolved to resist his nefarious attempt, and to prefer death itself to the loss of liberty and independence. Such is the spirit which seems to pervade every part of the country, and which promises a result favourable not only to the independence of Spain, but to the deliverance of the world from the most tremendous despotism that ever threatened it with chains.

• The whole undivided heart of Great Britain and Ireland, nay, of France itself, and of the world, must be with Spain. Would to God the whole undivided strength of the world could be combined at this moment against the armies of her oppressor, in Spain! Ministers had declared that no mixed interests should interfere; that all the exertion should be for Spain, and Spain alone; and I am happy to acknowledge that the part of the king's speech, which relates to Spain, bears out the professions which had been before made. It has my unqualified approbation. The policy is sound,

and the expressions could not have been better chosen.

Arms, ammunition, money, let them be poured in with a hand 'as liberal as can be conceived. All they ask for! and nothing they do not ask for. If an army shall hereafter be required, let no consideration of rank or favour interfere in the selection of the officer to command it. The stake is too precious to be risked in inadequat hands. The country has a high opinion of the military talents, the gallantry, and the other qualifications of the officer now in Ireland, ready to embark with a limited force. May the appointment of a general for any larger force be equally judicious, and equally acceptable to the public. Thus shall we render our selves worthy of being the supporters of Spanish valour, and Spanish virtue. Thus shall we best add to heir chance of success. Thus shall we render the most effectual service to this empire and the world. This cause is indeed the cause of justice and humanity. If it prospers,-stupendously glorious will be the victory. If it fails, their conqueror will have obtained any thing rather than honour

but the Spaniards of this day will be recorded to the latest posterity as a people deserving of a better fate, and they will have afforded a noble example for the imitation of the inhabitants of these islands, when their battle, the last battle of the European world, shall be fought.'

Mr. Whitbread has been basely calumniated as having advised the purchase of peace by the abandonment of the heroic Spaniards to their fate.'

'But God forbid!" says the bonest patriot, A notion so detestable never entered my imagination. Perish the man who could entertain it! Perish this country, rather than its safety should be owing to a compromise so horribly iniquitous! My feelings, at the time I spoke, ran in a direction totally opposite to any thing so disgusting and abominable.'

In the present critical situation of the world, it may be difficult to determine what measure it is most wise to pursue, in order to check the wide-spreading tyranny of Bonaparte, and to rescue the enthralled nations of Europe from his ambitious grasp. With equally good intentions, with sensations of philanthropy equally ardent, and a love of liberty equally pure, different individuals will view the subject in different lights, and will propose very opposite measures as likely to produce the same result. We agree respecting the end; we differ only about the meaus. The end is to set limits to the increasing domination of France and to save the remaining liberty of Europe. But what are the means by which this end is to be attained? Till the recent appearances in Spain, we thought that peace with Bonaparte would be preferable to war; or in other words that peace would contribute more to the security of Britain and less to the aggrandizement of France. We saw nothing but folly and imbecility, humiliation and despondency in those courts of Europe, by whose co-operation we were wont to procure at least a diversion against the arms of our inveterate foe. From one end of Europe to another, with the solitary exception of the king of Sweden, we saw in the cabinets both of the greater and the smaller states, nothing but the meuials, the tributaries, or the confederates of Bonaparte. The war appeared to us without an object, without hope of advantage, or even the most remote probability of accomplishing one desirable purpose which might justify the continuance. Under the impression that the protraction of the war was an evil, which was not counterbalanced even by a single good, that peace even if not attended with all

the usual benefits, would at least cause a cessation in the shedding of blood, and that, considered in the least favourable view, it was an experiment, which humanity as well as policy impelled us to make, we strongly urged the attempt to negociate a peace. And as pacific overtures had, on many other occasions been made to this country by France, we thought that Great Britain should, in this instance, be the first to hold out the olive branch to France. We thought that Bonaparte himself,, after so many toils, was not insensible to the desire of repose; and that even his ambition might be gratified by giving the blessing of peace to the world.

But the perfidy of his late conduct to Spain, while it has excited the accumulated indignation of every man who possesses a regard for truth, for justice, for the rights of individuals and of nations, has kindled in that country a spirit of enthusiastic resistance to the domination of France, which is likely to become epidemic in the other countries of Europe, which are at present languishing under her galling yoke. We hardly, therefore, agree with Mr. Whitbread in thinking that this is a favourable moment for commencing a negociation with France. We fear that any pacific overtures which should at this critical juncture be made to Bonaparte by this country, would tend to infuse a distrust of our sincerity into the breasts of the Spanish patri ́ots, to chill the ardour of their hopes, and to relax the vigour of their exertions, or to weaken them by those intestine jeaJousies and dissentions which must be fatal to their cause. Were we at this interesting period to make any pacific overtures to France, the wily Corsican would probably employ the interval of negociation in cajoling us and reducing his Spanish foe. We think, therefore, that in the present moment, instead of seeking peace, both policy and humanity conspire to induce us with all our heart and with all our strength to assist the Spaniards in asserting their liberty and independence. If the ambitious career of Bonaparte be checked by the glorious efforts of the Spaniards, if his veterans and his conscripts be driven beyond the Pyrenees, a favourable reaction of sentiment may be expected in France. The hatred of all Europe towards the tyrant, which is, at present, concealed only by fear, may shew itself in a determined opposition to his will. Even those countries, whose servitude his gigantic tyranny seems irrevocably to have established, may resound with the animated cry of LIBERTY OR DEATH. We do not think that it would be for the interest of Europe that the present dynasty of France should be extirpated, but only that its means of offensive hostility to, and its domineering

insolence over the independence of other countries, should be reduced and that the French people themselves should have a larger portion of civil liberty than they enjoy under the tyranny of Bonaparte. The success of the Spanish patriots will tend to produce these salutary effects. We shall quote Mr. Whitbread's reasons for thinking the present a favourable period for pacific propositions.

'I am not,' says the frank and eloquent senator,' afraid to say, that the present is a moment in which I think negociation might be proposed to the emperor of the French by Great Britain with the certainty of this great advantage, that if the negociation should be refused, we should be at least sure of being right in the eyes of God and man. An advantage which, in my opinion, we have never yet possessed, from the commencement of the contest to the present hour; and the value of which is far beyond all calculation.

If the emancipation of Spain, the enthronement of Ferdinand VII. and the amelioration of the government of that country, through the means of the legitimate organ of their Cortes, or any other of their own chusing, could be effected without bloodshed, is there a man existing who would not prefer the accomplishment of these objects by the means of negociation, rather than by the sword? If Mr. Fox were happily alive, and had power commensurate with bis ability, I see a bare possibility that his genius might turn this crisis to such great account. Nothing should be done but in concert with the Spaniards; and the complete evacuation of Spain by the French armies, the abstinence from all interference in her internal arrangements, the freedom of the royal family, might be the conditions of the negociation. There is no humiliation in such a proposal. What a grateful opportunity would at the same time present itself of making a voluntary proffer of restitutions, which, when demanded, it might, perhaps, be difficult to accede to! What a moment to attempt the salvation of Sweden, and the re-establish ment of the tranquillity of the North!

All this I had in contemplation at the time I said I should not think it improper now to offer a negociation for peace. I should be desirous of conveying these terms to the court at Bayonne, and of proclaiming them to the world. If they should be accepted, is there a statesman who could doubt of their propriety, of their justice, of their honour? If rejected, is there a free spirit in the uni verse that would not join in applauding the justice and moderation of Great Britain, in condemning the violence, the injustice, and ambition of the Emperor of the French.

These are my views, and I am desirous they should be known. I may be deemed romantic for entertaining them. But I trust that those who may treat me as chimerical or absurd, will not be betrayed into an opposite and more dangerous extreme: That in contemplating the success of Spain, they will not be carried back to old