In everything, the same law prevailed. In diplomacy, the ablest men were not Spaniards, but foreigners; and during the eighteenth century the strange spectacle was frequently exhibited, of Spain being represented by French, Italian, and even Irish ambassadors.[1417] Nothing was indigenous; nothing was done by Spain herself. Philip V., who reigned from 1700 to 1746, and possessed immense power, always clung to the ideas of his own country, and was a Frenchman to the last. For thirty years after his death, the three most prominent names in Spanish politics were, Wall, who was born in France, of Irish parents;[1418] Grimaldi, who was a native of Genoa; [1419] and Esquilache, who was a native of Sicily.[1420] Esquilache administered the finances for several years; and, after enjoying the confidence of Charles III. to an extent rarely possessed by any minister, was only dismissed, in 1766, in consequence of the discontents of the people at the innovations introduced by this bold foreigner.[1421] Wall, a much more remarkable man, was, in the absence of any good Spanish diplomatist, sent envoy to London in 1747; and after exercising great influence in matters of state, he was placed at the head of affairs in 1754, and remained supreme till 1763.[1422] When this eminent Irishman relinquished office, he was succeeded by the Genoese, Grimaldi, who ruled Spain from 1763 to 1777, and was entirely devoted to the French views of policy.[1423] His principal patron was Choiseul, who had imbued him with his own notions, and by whose advice he was chiefly guided.[1424] Indeed, Choiseul, who was then the first minister in France, used to boast, with exaggeration, but not without a considerable amount of truth, that his influence in Madrid was even greater than it was in Versailles.[1425]

However this may be, it is certain that four years after Grimaldi took office, the ascendency of France was exhibited in a remarkable way. Choiseul, who hated the Jesuits, and had just expelled them from France, endeavoured also to expel them from Spain.[1426] The execution of the plan was confided to Aranda, who, though a Spaniard by birth, derived his intellectual culture from France, and had contracted, in the society of Paris, an intense hatred of every form of ecclesiastical power.[1427] The scheme, secretly prepared, was skilfully accomplished.[1428] In 1767, the Spanish government, without hearing what the Jesuits had to say in their defence, and indeed, without giving them the least notice, suddenly ordered their expulsion; and with such animosity were they driven from the country, in which they sprung up, and had long been cherished, that not only was their wealth confiscated, and they themselves reduced to a wretched pittance, but even that was directed to be taken from them, if they published anything in their own vindication; while it was also declared that whoever ventured to write respecting them, should, if we were a subject of Spain, be put to death, as one guilty of high treason.[1429]

Such boldness on the part of the government[1430] caused even the Inquisition to tremble. That once omnipotent tribunal, threatened and suspected by the civil authorities, became more wary in its proceedings, and more tender in its treatment of heretics. Instead of extirpating unbelievers by hundreds or by thousands, it was reduced to such pitiful straits, that between 1746 and 1759, it was only able to burn ten persons; and between 1759 and 1788, only four persons.[1431] The extraordinary diminution during the latter period, was partly owing to the great authority wielded by Aranda, the friend of the encyclopædists and of other French sceptics. This remarkable man was President of Castile till 1773,[1432] and he issued an order forbidding the Inquisition to interfere with the civil courts.[1433] He also formed a scheme for entirely abolishing it; but his plan was frustrated, owing to its premature announcement by his friends in Paris, to whom it had been confided.[1434] His views, however, were so far successful, that after 1781, there is no instance in Spain of a heretic being burned; the Inquisition being too terrified by the proceedings of government to do anything which might compromise the safety of the Holy Institution.[1435]

In 1777, Grimaldi, one of the chief supporters of that anti-theological policy which France introduced into Spain, ceased to be Minister; but he was succeeded by Florida Blanca, who was his creature, and to whom he transmitted his policy as well as his power.[1436] The progress, therefore, of political affairs continued in the same direction. Under the new minister, as under his immediate predecessors, a determination was shown to abridge the authority of the Church, and to vindicate the rights of laymen. In everything, the ecclesiastical interests were treated as subordinate to the secular. Of this, many instances might be given; but one is too important to be omitted. We have seen, that early in the eighteenth century, Alberoni, when at the head of affairs, was guilty of what in Spain was deemed the enormous offence of contracting an alliance with Mohammedans; and there can be no doubt that this was one of the chief causes of his fall, since it was held, that no prospect of mere temporal advantages could justify an union, or even a peace, between a Christian nation and a nation of unbelievers.[1437] But the Spanish government, which, owing to the causes I have related, was far in advance of Spain itself, was gradually becoming bolder, and growing more and more disposed to force upon the country, views, which, abstractedly considered, where extremely enlightened, but which the popular mind was unable to receive. The result was, that, in 1782, Florida Blanca concluded a treaty with Turkey, which put an end to the war of religious opinions; to the astonishment, as we are told, of the other European powers, who could hardly believe that the Spaniards would thus abandon their long-continued efforts to destroy the infidels.[1438] Before, however, Europe had time to recover from its amazement, other and similar events occurred equally startling. In 1784, Spain signed a peace with Tripoli; and in 1785, one with Algiers.[1439] And scarcely had these been ratified, when, in 1786, a treaty was also concluded with Tunis.[1440] So that the Spanish people to their no small surprise, found themselves on terms of amity with nations, whom for more than ten centuries they had been taught to abhor, and whom, in the opinion of the Spanish Church, it was the first duty of a Christian government to make war upon, and, if possible, to extirpate.

Putting aside, for a moment, the remote and intellectual consequences of these transactions, there can be no doubt that the immediate and material consequences were very salutary; though, as we shall presently see, they produced no lasting benefit, because they were opposed by the unfavourable operation of more powerful and more general causes. Still, it must be confessed that the direct results were extremely advantageous; and to those who take only a short view of human affairs, it might well appear that the advantages would be permanent. The immense line of coast from the kingdoms of Fez and Morocco to the furthest extremity of the Turkish empire was no longer allowed to pour forth those innumerable pirates who, heretofore, swept the seas, captured Spanish ships, and made slaves of Spanish subjects. Formerly, vast sums of money were annually consumed in ransoming these unhappy prisoners;[1441] but now all such evils were ended. At the same time, great impetus was given to the commerce of Spain; a new trade was thrown open, and her ships could safely appear in the rich countries of the Levant. This increased her wealth; which was moreover aided by another circumstance growing out of these events. For, the most fertile parts of Spain are those which are washed by the Mediterranean, and which had for centuries been the prey of Mohammedan corsairs, who frequently landing by surprise, had at length caused such constant fear, that the inhabitants gradually retired towards the interior, and abstained from cultivating the richest soil in their country. But, by the treaties just concluded, such dangers were at once removed; the people returned to their former abodes; the earth again gave forth its fruits; regular industry reappeared; villages sprung up; even manufactures were established; and the foundation seemed to be laid for a prosperity, the like of which had not been known since the Mohammedans were driven out of Granada.[1442]

I have now laid before the reader a view of the most important steps which were taken by those able and vigorous politicians, who ruled Spain during the greater part of the eighteenth century. In considering how these reforms were effected, we must not forget the personal character of Charles III., who occupied the throne from 1759 to 1788.[1443] He was a man of great energy, and though born in Spain, had little in common with it. When he became king, he had been long absent from his native country, and had contracted a taste for customs, and, above all, for opinions, totally dissimilar to those natural to the Spaniards.[1444] Comparing him with his subjects, he was enlightened indeed. They cherished in their hearts, the most complete, and therefore the worst, form of spiritual power which has ever been exhibited in Europe. That very power, he made it his business to restrain. In this, as in other respects, he far surpassed Ferdinand VI. and Philip V., though they, under the influence of French ideas, had proceeded to what was deemed a dangerous length.[1445] The clergy, indignant at such proceedings, murmured, and even threatened.[1446] They declared that Charles was despoiling the Church, taking away her rights, insulting her ministers, and thus ruining Spain beyond human remedy.[1447] The king, however, whose disposition was firm, and somewhat obstinate, persevered in his policy; and as he and his ministers were men of undoubted ability, they, notwithstanding the opposition they encountered, succeeded in accomplishing most of their plans. Mistaken and short-sighted though they were, it is impossible to refrain from admiring the honesty, the courage, and the disinterestedness, which they displayed in endeavouring to alter the destiny of that superstitions and half barbarous country over which they ruled. We must not, however, conceal from ourselves, that in this, as in all similar cases, they, by attacking evils which the people were resolved to love, increased the affection which the evils inspired. To seek to change opinions by laws is worse than futile. It not only fails, but it causes a reaction, which leaves the opinions stronger than ever. First alter the opinion, and then you may alter the law. As soon as you have convinced men that superstition is mischievous, you may with advantage take active steps against those classes who promote superstition and live by it. But, however pernicious any interest or any great body may be, beware of using force against it, unless the progress of knowledge has previously sapped it at its base, and loosened its hold over the national mind. This has always been the error of the most ardent reformers, who, in their eagerness to effect their purpose, let the political movement outstrip the intellectual one, and, thus inverting the natural order, secure misery either to themselves or to their descendants. They touch the altar, and fire springs forth to consume them. Then comes another period of superstition and of despotism; another dark epoch in the annals of the human race. And this happens merely because men will not bide their time, but will insist on precipitating the march of affairs. Thus, for instance, in France and Germany, it is the friends of freedom who have strengthened tyranny; it is the enemies of superstition who have made superstition more permanent. In those countries, it is still believed that government can regenerate society; and therefore, directly they who hold liberal opinions get possession of the government, they use their power too lavishly, thinking that by doing so, they will best secure the end at which they aim. In England, the same delusion, though less general, is far too prevalent; but as, with us, public opinion controls politicians, we escape from evils which have happened abroad, because we will not allow any government to enact laws which the nation disapproves. In Spain, however, the habits of the people were so slavish, and their necks had so long been bowed under the yoke, that though the government, in the eighteenth century, opposed their dearest prejudices, they rarely ventured to resist, and they had no legal means of making their voice heard. But not the less did they feel. The materials for reaction were silently accumulating; and before that century had passed away the reaction itself was manifest. As long as Charles III. lived, it was kept under; and this was owing partly to the fear which his active and vigorous government inspired, and partly to the fact that many of the reforms which he introduced were so obviously beneficial as to shed a lustre on his reign, which all classes could perceive. Besides the exemption which his policy insured from the incessant ravages of pirates, he also succeeded in obtaining for Spain the most honourable peace which any Spanish government had signed for two centuries; thus recalling to the popular mind the brightest and most glorious days of Philip II.[1448] When Charles came to the throne, Spain was hardly a third-rate power; when he died, she might fairly claim to be a first-rate one, since she had for some years negotiated on equal terms with France, England, and Austria, and had taken a leading part in the councils of Europe. To this, the personal character of Charles greatly contributed; he being respected for his honesty, as well as feared for his vigour.[1449] Merely as a man, he bore high repute; while, as a sovereign, none of his contemporaries were in any way equal to him, except Frederick of Prussia, whose vast abilities, were, however, tarnished by a base rapacity, and by an incessant desire to overreach his neighbours. Charles III. had nothing of this; but he carefully increased the defences of Spain, and, raising her establishments to a war-footing, he made her more formidable than she had been since the sixteenth century. Instead of being liable to insult from every petty potentate who chose to triumph over her weakness, the country had now the means of resisting, and if need be, of attacking. While the army was greatly improved in the quality of the troops, in their discipline, and in the attention paid to their comforts, the navy was nearly doubled in number, and more than doubled in efficiency.[1450] And this was done without imposing fresh burdens on the people. Indeed, the national resources were becoming so developed, that, in the reign of Charles III., a large amount of taxation could have been easier paid than a small one under his predecessors. A regularity, hitherto unknown, was introduced into the method both of assessing imposts, and of collecting them.[1451] The laws of mortmain were relaxed, and steps were taken towards diminishing the rigidity of entails.[1452] The industry of the country was liberated from many of the trammels which had long been imposed upon it, and the principles of free trade were so far recognized, that, in 1765, the old laws respecting corn were repealed; its exportation was allowed, and also its transit from one part of Spain to another, uninterrupted by those absurd precautions, which preceding governments had thought it advisable to invent.[1453]

It was also in the reign of Charles III. that the American Colonies were, for the first time, treated according to the maxims of a wise and liberal policy. The behaviour of the Spanish government in this respect, contrasts most favourably with the conduct pursued at the same time towards our great Colonies by that narrow and incompetent man who then filled the English throne. While the violence of George III. was fomenting rebellion in the British Colonies, Charles III. was busily engaged in conciliating the Spanish ones. Towards this end, and with the object of giving fair play to the growth of their wealth, he did everything which the knowledge and resources of that age allowed him to do. In 1764, he accomplished, what was then considered the great feat of establishing every month a regular communication with America, in order that the reforms which he projected might be more easily introduced, and the grievances of the Colonies attended to.[1454] In the very next year, free trade was conceded to the West Indian Islands, whose abundant commodities were now, for the first time, allowed to circulate, to their own benefit, as well as to the benefit of their neighbours.[1455] Into the Colonies generally, vast improvements were introduced, many oppressions were removed, the tyranny of officials was checked, and the burdens of the people were lightened.[1456] Finally, in 1778, the principles of free trade having been successfully tried in the American Islands, were now extended to the American Continent; the ports of Peru and of New Spain were thrown open; and by this means an immense impetus was given to the prosperity of those magnificent colonies, which nature intended to be rich, but which the meddling folly of man had forced to be poor.[1457]

All this reacted upon the mother country with such rapidity, that scarcely was the old system of monopoly broken up, when the trade of Spain began to advance, and continued to improve, until the exports and imports had reached a height that even the authors of the reform could hardly have expected; it being said that the export of foreign commodities was tripled, that the export of home-produce was multiplied fivefold, and the returns from America ninefold.[1458]

Many of the taxes, which bore heavily on the lower ranks, were repealed, and the industrious classes, being relieved of their principal burdens, it was hoped that their condition would speedily improve.[1459] And to benefit them still more, such alterations were effected in the administration of the law, as might enable them to receive justice from the public tribunals, when they had occasion to complain of their superiors. Hitherto, a poor man had not the least chance of succeeding against a rich one; but in the reign of Charles III., government introduced various regulations, by which labourers and mechanics could obtain redress, if their masters defrauded them of their wages, or broke the contracts made with them.[1460]

Not only the labouring classes, but also the literary and scientific classes, were encouraged and protected. One source of danger, to which they had long been exposed, was considerably lessened by the steps which Charles took to curtail the power of the Inquisition. The king, was, moreover, always ready to reward them; he was a man of cultivated tastes, and he delighted in being thought the patron of learning.[1461] Soon after his accession, he issued an order, exempting from military service all printers, and all persons immediately connected with printing, such as casters of type, and the like.[1462] He, also, as far as he was able, infused new life into the old universities, and did all that was possible towards restoring their discipline and reputation.[1463] He founded schools, endowed colleges, rewarded professors, and granted pensions. In these matters his munificence seemed inexhaustible, and is of itself sufficient to account for the veneration with which literary Spaniards regard his memory. They have reason to regret that, instead of living now, they had not lived when he was king. In his reign, it was supposed that their interests must be identical with the interests of knowledge; and these last were rated so highly, that, in 1771, it was laid down as a settled principle of government, that of all the branches of public policy, the care of education is the most important.[1464]

But this is not all. It is no exaggeration to say, that in the reign of Charles III., the face of Spain underwent greater changes than it had done during the hundred and fifty years which had elapsed since the final expulsion of the Mohammedans. At his accession, in 1759, the wise and pacific policy of his predecessor, Ferdinand VI., had enabled that prince not only to pay many of the debts owed by the crown, but also to accumulate and leave behind him a considerable treasure.[1465] Of this Charles availed himself, to begin those works of public splendour, which, more than any other part of his administration, was sure to strike the senses, and to give popularity to his reign. And when, by the increase of wealth, rather than by the imposition of fresh burdens, still larger resources were placed at his command, he devoted a considerable part of them to completing his designs. He so beautified Madrid, that forty years after his death, it was stated, that, as it then stood, all its magnificence was owing to him. The public buildings and the public gardens, the beautiful walks round the capital, its noble gates, its institutions, and the very roads leading from it to the adjacent country, are all the work of Charles III., and are among the most conspicuous trophies which attest his genius and the sumptuousness of his taste.[1466]

In other parts of the country, roads were laid down, and canals were dug, with the view of increasing trade by opening up communications through tracts previously impassable. At the accession of Charles III., the whole of the Sierra Morena was unoccupied, except by wild beasts and banditti, who took refuge there.[1467] No peaceful traveller would venture into such a place; and commerce was thus excluded from what nature had marked as one of the greatest highways in Spain, standing as it does between the basins of the Guadiana and Guadalquivir, and in the direct course between the ports on the Mediterranean and those on the Atlantic. The active government of Charles III. determined to remedy this evil; but the Spanish people not having the energy to do what was required, six thousand Dutch and Flemish were, in 1767, invited to settle in the Sierra Morena. On their arrival, lands were allotted to them, roads were cut through the whole of the district, villages were built; and that which had just been an impervious desert, was suddenly turned into a smiling and fruitful territory.[1468]

Nearly all over Spain, the roads were repaired; a fund having been, so early as 1760, specially set apart for that purpose.[1469] Many new works were begun; and such improvements were introduced, while at the same time, such vigilance was employed to prevent peculation on the part of officials, that in a very few years the cost of making public highways was reduced to less than half of what it used to be.[1470] Of the undertakings which were brought to a successful issue, the most important were, a road now first constructed from Malaga to Antequera,[1471] and another from Aquilas to Lorca.[1472] In this way, means of intercourse were supplied between the Mediterranean and the interior of Andalusia and of Mercia. While these communications were established in the south and south-east of Spain, others were opened up in the north and north-west. In 1769, a road was begun between Bilbao and Osma;[1473] and soon after, one was completed between Galicia and Astorga.[1474] These and similar works were so skilfully executed, that the Spanish highways, formerly among the worst in Europe, were now classed among the best. Indeed, a competent, and by no means over-friendly, judge gives it as his opinion, that at the death of Charles III. better roads were to be found in Spain than in any other country.[1475]

In the interior, rivers were made navigable, and canals were formed to connect them with each other. The Ebro runs through the heart of Aragon and part of Old Castile, and is available for purposes of traffic as high up as Logroño, and from thence down to Tudela. But between Tudela and Saragossa, the navigation is interrupted by its great speed, and by the rocks in its bed. Consequently, Navarre is deprived of its natural communication with the Mediterranean. In the enterprising reign of Charles V., an attempt was made to remedy this evil; but the plan failed, was laid aside, and was forgotten, until it was revived, more than two hundred years later, by Charles III. Under his auspices, the great canal of Aragon was projected, with the magnificent idea of uniting the Mediterranean and the Atlantic. This, however, was one of many instances in which the government of Spain was too far in advance of Spain itself; and it was necessary to abandon a scheme, to which the resources of the country were unequal. But what was really effected, was of immense value. A canal was actually carried to Saragossa, and the waters of the Ebro were made available not only for transport, but also for irrigating the soil. The means of a safe and profitable trade were now supplied even to the western extremity of Aragon. The old land, becoming more productive, rose in value, and new land was brought under the plough. From this, other parts of Spain also benefited. Castile, for example, had in seasons of scarcity always depended for supplies on Aragon, though that province could, under the former system, only produce enough for its own consumption. But by this great canal, to which, about the same time, that of Tauste was also added,[1476] the soil of Aragon became far more productive than it had ever yet been; and the rich plains of the Ebro yielded so abundantly, that they were able to supply wheat and other food to the Castilians, as well as to the Aragonese.[1477]

The government of Charles III., moreover, constructed a canal between Amposta and Alfaques,[1478] which irrigated the southern extremity of Catalonia, and brought into cultivation a large district, which, from the constant lack of rain, had hitherto been untilled. Another and still greater enterprise belonging to the same reign, was an attempt, only partly successful, to establish a water-communication between the capital and the Atlantic, by running a canal from Madrid to Toledo, whence the Tagus would have conveyed goods to Lisbon, and all the trade of the west would have been opened up.[1479] But this and many other noble projects were nipped in the bud by the death of Charles III., with whom every thing vanished. When he passed away, the country relapsed into its former inactivity, and it was clearly seen that these great works were not national, but political; in other words that they were due merely to individuals, whose most strenuous exertions always come to naught, if they are opposed by the operation of those general causes, which are often undiscerned, but to which even the strongest of us, do, in our own despite, pay implicit obedience.

Still for a time much was done; and Charles, reasoning according to the ordinary maxims of politicians, might well indulge the hope, that what he had effected would permanently change the destiny of Spain. For these and other works which he not only planned but executed,[1480] were not paid for, as is too often the case, by taxes which oppressed the people, and trammelled their industry. At his side, and constantly advising him, there were men who really aimed at the public good, and who never would have committed so fatal an error. Under his rule the wealth of the country greatly increased, and the comforts of the lower classes, instead of being abridged, were multiplied. The imposts were more fairly assessed than they had ever been before. Taxes, which, in the seventeenth century, all the power of the executive could not wring from the people, were now regularly paid, and, owing to the development of the national resources, they became at once more productive and less onerous. In the management of the public finances, an economy was practised, the first example of which had been set in the preceding reign, when the cautious and pacific policy of Ferdinand VI. laid a foundation for many of the improvements just narrated. Ferdinand bequeathed to Charles III. a treasure which he had not extorted, but saved. Among the reforms which he introduced, and which an unwillingness to accumulate details has compelled me to omit, there is one very important, and also very characteristic of his policy. Before his reign, Spain had annually been drained of an immense amount of money, on account of the right which the Pope claimed of presenting to certain rich benefices, and of receiving part of their produce; probably as a recompense for the trouble he had taken. Of this duty the Pope was relieved by Ferdinand VI., who secured to the Spanish crown the right of conferring such preferment, and thus saved to the country those enormous sums on which the Roman Court had been wont to revel.[1481] This was just the sort of measure which would be hailed with delight by Charles III., as harmonizing with his own views; and we accordingly find, that, in his reign, it was not only acted upon, but extended still further. For, perceiving that, in spite of his efforts, the feeling of the Spaniards on these matters was so strong as to impel them to make offerings to him whom they venerated as the Head of the Church, the king determined to exercise control over even these voluntary gifts. To accomplish this end, various devices were suggested; and at length one was hit upon, which was thought sure to be effectual. A royal order was issued, directing that no person should send money to Rome, but that if he had occasion to make remittances there, they should pass not through the ordinary channels, but through the ambassadors, ministers, or other agents of the Spanish crown.[1482]

If we now review the transactions which I have narrated, and consider them as a whole, extending from the accession of Philip V. to the death of Charles III., over a period of nearly ninety years, we shall be struck with wonder at their unity, at the regularity of their march, and at their apparent success. Looking at them merely in a political point of view, it may be doubted if such vast and uninterrupted progress has ever been seen in any country either before or since. For three generations, there was no pause on the part of the government; not one reaction, not one sign of halting. Improvement upon improvement, and reform upon reform, followed each other in swift succession. The power of the Church, which has always been the crying evil of Spain, and which hitherto none of the boldest politicians had dared to touch, was restricted in every possible way, by a series of statesmen, from Orry to Florida Blanca, whose efforts were latterly, and for nearly thirty years, zealously aided by Charles III., the ablest monarch who has sat on the throne since the death of Philip II. Even the Inquisition was taught to tremble, and made to loosen its hold over its victims. The burning of heretics was stopped. Torture was disused. Prosecutions for heresy were discouraged. Instead of punishing men for imaginary offences, a disposition was shown to attend to their real interests, to alleviate their burdens, to increase their comforts, and to check the tyranny of those who were set over them. Attempts were made to restrain the cupidity of the clergy, and prevent them from preying at will upon the national wealth. With this view, the laws of mortmain were revised, and various measures taken to interpose obstacles in the way of persons who desired to waste their property by bequeathing it for ecclesiastical purposes. In this, as in other matters, the true interests of society were preferred to the fictitious ones. To raise the secular classes above the spiritual; to discountenance the exclusive attention hitherto paid to questions respecting which nothing is known, and which it is impossible to solve; to do this, and, in the place of such barren speculations, to substitute a taste for science, or for literature, became the object of the Spanish government for the first time since Spain had possessed a government at all. As part of the same scheme, the Jesuits were expelled, the right of sanctuary was infringed, and the whole hierarchy, from the highest bishop down to the lowest monk, were taught to fear the law, to curb their passions, and to restrain the insolence with which they had formerly treated every rank except their own. These would have been great deeds in any country; in such a country as Spain, they were marvellous. Of them I have given an abridged, and therefore an imperfect, account, but still sufficient to show how the government laboured to diminish superstition, to check bigotry, to stimulate intellect, to promote industry, and to rouse the people from their death-like slumber. I have omitted many measures of considerable interest, and which tended in the same direction; because, here, as elsewhere, I seek to confine myself to those salient points which most distinctly mark the general movement. Whoever will minutely study the history of Spain during this period, will find additional proof of the skill and vigour of those who were at the head of affairs, and who devoted their best energies to regenerating the country which they ruled. But, for these special studies, special men are required; and I shall be satisfied, if I have firmly grasped the great march and outline of the whole. It is enough for my purpose, if I have substantiated the general proposition, and have convinced the reader of the clearness with which the statesmen of Spain discerned the evils under which their country was groaning, and of the zeal with which they set themselves to remedy the mischief, and to resuscitate the fortunes of what had once not only been the chief of European monarchies, but had borne sway over the most splendid and extensive territory that had been united under a single rule since the fall of the Roman Empire.

They who believe that a government can civilize a nation, and that legislators are the cause of social progress, will naturally expect that Spain reaped permanent benefit from those liberal maxims, which now, for the first time, were put into execution. The fact, however, is, that such a policy, wise as it appeared, was of no avail, simply because it ran counter to the whole train of preceding circumstances. It was opposed to the habits of the national mind, and was introduced into a state of society not yet ripe for it. No reform can produce real good, unless it is the work of public opinion, and unless the people themselves take the initiative. In Spain, during the eighteenth century, foreign influence, and the complications of foreign politics, bestowed enlightened rulers upon an unenlightened country.[1483] The consequence was, that, for a time, great things were done. Evils were removed, grievances were redressed, many important improvements were introduced; and a spirit of toleration was exhibited, such as had never before been seen in that priest-ridden and superstitious land. But the mind of Spain was untouched. While the surface, and as it were the symptoms, of affairs were ameliorated, affairs themselves remained unchanged. Below that surface, and far out of reach of any political remedy, large general causes were at work, which had been operating for many centuries, and which were sure, sooner or later, to force politicians to retrace their steps, and compel them to inaugurate a policy which would suit the traditions of the country, and harmonize with the circumstances under which those traditions had been formed.

At length the reaction came. In 1788, Charles III. died; and was succeeded by Charles IV., a king of the true Spanish breed, devout, orthodox, and ignorant.[1484] It was now seen how insecure everything was, and how little reliance can be placed on reforms, which, instead of being suggested by the people, are bestowed on them by the political classes. Charles IV., though a weak and contemptible prince,[1485] was so supported in his general views by the feelings of the Spanish nation, that, in less than five years, he was able completely to reverse that liberal policy which it had taken three generations of statesmen to build up. In less than five years everything was changed. The power of the Church was restored; the slightest approach towards free discussion was forbidden; old and arbitrary principles, which had not been heard of since the seventeenth century, were revived; the priests re-assumed their former importance; literary men were intimidated, and literature was discouraged; while the Inquisition, suddenly starting up afresh, displayed an energy, which caused its enemies to tremble, and proved that all the attempts which had been made to weaken it, had been unable to impair its vigour, or to daunt its ancient spirit.

The ministers of Charles III., and the authors of those great reforms which signalized his reign, were dismissed, to make way for other advisers, better suited to this new state of things. Charles IV. loved the Church too well to tolerate the presence of enlightened statesmen. Aranda and Florida Blanca were both removed from office, and both were placed in confinement.[1486] Jovellanos was banished from court, and Cabarrus was thrown into prison.[1487] For, now, work had to be done, to which these eminent men would not put their hands. A policy which had been followed with undeviating consistency for nearly ninety years, was about to be rescinded, in order that the old empire of the seventeenth century, which was the empire of ignorance, of tyranny, and of superstition, might be resuscitated, and, if possible, restored to its pristine vigour.

Once more was Spain covered with darkness; once more did the shadows of night overtake that wretched land. The worst forms of oppression, says a distinguished writer, seemed to be settling on the country with a new and portentous weight.[1488] At the same time, and indeed as a natural part of the scheme, every investigation likely to stimulate the mind, was prohibited, and an order was actually sent to all the universities, forbidding the study of moral philosophy; the minister, who issued the order, justly observing, that the king did not want to have philosophers.[1489] There was, however, little fear of Spain producing anything so dangerous. The nation not daring, and, what was still worse, not wishing, to resist, gave way, and let the king do as he liked. Within a very few years, he neutralized the most valuable reforms which his predecessors had introduced. Having discarded the able advisers of his father, he conferred the highest posts upon men as narrow and incompetent as himself; he reduced the country to the verge of bankruptcy; and, according to the remark of a Spanish historian, he exhausted all the resources of the state.[1490]

Such was the condition of Spain, late in the eighteenth century. The French invasion quickly followed; and that unhappy country underwent every form of calamity and of degradation. Herein, however, lies a difference. Calamities may be inflicted by others; but no people can be degraded except by their own acts. The foreign spoiler works mischief; he cannot cause shame. With nations, as with individuals, none are dishonoured if they are true to themselves. Spain, during the present century, has been plundered and oppressed, and the opprobrium lights on the robbers, not on the robbed. She has been overrun by a brutal and licentious soldiery; her fields laid waste, her towns sacked, her villages burned. It is to the criminal, rather than to the victim, that the ignominy of these acts must belong. And, even in a material point of view, such losses are sure to be retrieved, if the people who incur them are inured to those habits of self-government, and to that feeling of self-reliance, which are the spring and the source of all real greatness. With the aid of these, every damage may be repaired, and every evil remedied. Without them, the slightest blow may be fatal. In Spain, they are unknown; and it seems impossible to establish them. In that country, men have so long been accustomed to pay implicit deference to the Crown and the Church, that loyalty and superstition have usurped the place of those nobler emotions, to which all freedom is owing, and in the absence of which, the true idea of independence can never be attained.

More than once, indeed, during the nineteenth century, a spirit has appeared, from which better things might have been augured. In 1812, in 1820, and in 1836, a few ardent and enthusiastic reformers attempted to secure liberty to the Spanish people, by endowing Spain with a free constitution. They succeeded for a moment, and that was all. The forms of constitutional government they could bestow; but they could not find the traditions and the habits, by which the forms are worked. They mimicked the voice of liberty; they copied her institutions; they aped her very gestures. And what then? At the first stroke of adverse fortune, their idol fell to pieces. Their constitutions were broken up, their assemblies dissolved, their enactments rescinded. The inevitable reaction quickly followed. After each disturbance, the hands of the government were strengthened, the principles of despotism were confirmed, and the Spanish liberals were taught to rue the day, in which they vainly endeavoured to impart freedom to their unhappy and ill-starred country.[1491]

What makes these failures the more worthy of observation is, that the Spaniards did possess, at a very early period, municipal privileges and franchises, similar to those which we had in England, and to which our greatness is often ascribed. But such institutions, though they preserve freedom, can never create it. Spain had the form of liberty without its spirit; hence the form, promising as it was, soon died away. In England, the spirit preceded the form, and therefore the form was durable. Thus it is, that though the Spaniards could boast of free institutions a century before ourselves, they were unable to retain them, simply because they had the institutions and nothing more. We had no popular representation till 1264;[1492] but in Castile they had it in 1169,[1493] and in Aragon in 1133.[1494] So, too, while the earliest charter was granted to an English town in the twelfth century,[1495] we find, in Spain, a charter conferred on Leon as early as 1020; and in the course of the eleventh century the enfranchisement of towns was as secure as laws could make it.[1496]

The fact, however, is, that in Spain these institutions, instead of growing out of the wants of the people originated in a stroke of policy on the part of their rulers. They were conceded to the citizens, rather than desired by them. For, during the war with the Mohammedans, the Christian kings of Spain, as they advanced southwards, were naturally anxious to induce their subjects to settle in the frontier towns, where they might face and repel the enemy. With this object they granted charters to the towns, and privileges to the inhabitants.[1497] And as the Mohammedans were gradually beaten back from the Asturias to Granada, the frontiers changed, and the franchises were extended to the new conquests, in order that what was the post of danger, might also be the place of reward. But, meanwhile, those general causes, which I have indicated, were predetermining the nation to habits of loyalty and of superstition, which grew to a height fatal to the spirit of liberty. That being the case the institutions were of no avail. They took no root; and as they were originated by one political combination, they were destroyed by another. Before the close of the fourteenth century, the Spaniards were so firmly seated in the territories they had lately acquired that there was little danger of their being again expelled[1498] while, on the other hand, there was no immediate prospect of their being able to push their conquests further, and drive the Mohammedans from the strongholds of Granada. The circumstances, therefore, which gave rise to the municipal privileges had changed; and as soon as this was apparent, the privileges began to perish. Being unsuited to the habits of the people, they were sure to fall, on the first opportunity.[1499] Late in the fourteenth century, their decline was perceptible; by the close of the fifteenth century, they were almost extinct; and, early in the sixteenth century, they were finally overthrown.[1500]

It is thus that general causes eventually triumph over every obstacle. In the average of affairs, and on a comparison of long periods, they are irresistible. Their operation is often attacked, and occasionally, for a little time, stopped by politicians, who are always ready with their empirical and short-sighted remedies. But when the spirit of the age is against those remedies, they can at best only succeed for a moment; and after that moment has passed, a reaction sets in, and the penalty for violence has to be paid. Evidence of this will be found in the annals of every civilized country, by whoever will confront the history of legislation with the history of opinion. The fate of the Spanish towns has afforded us one good proof; the fate of the Spanish Church will supply us with another. For more than eighty years after the death of Charles II. the rulers of Spain attempted to weaken the ecclesiastical power; and the end of all their efforts was, that even such an insignificant and incompetent king as Charles IV. was able, with the greatest ease, rapidly to undo what they had done. This is because, during the eighteenth century, while the clergy were assailed by law, they were favoured by opinion. The opinions of a people invariably depend on large general causes, which influence the whole country; but their laws are too often the work of a few powerful individuals, in opposition to the national will. When the legislators die, or lose office, there is always a chance of their successors holding opposite views, and subverting their plans. In the midst, however, of this play and fluctuation of political life, the general causes remain steady, though they are often kept out of sight, and do not become visible, until politicians, inclining to their side, bring them to the surface, and invest them with open and public authority.

This is what Charles IV. did in Spain; and when he took measures to favour the Church, and to discourage free inquiry, he merely sanctioned those national habits which his predecessors had disregarded. The hold which the hierarchy of that country possess over public opinion has always been proverbial; but it is even greater than is commonly supposed. What it was in the seventeenth century, we have already seen; and in the eighteenth century, there were no signs of its diminution, except among a few bold men, who could effect nothing, while the popular voice was so strong against them. Early in the reign of Philip V., Labat, who travelled in Spain, informs us, that when a priest performed mass, nobles of the highest rank deemed it an honour to help him to dress, and that they would go down on their knees to him, and kiss his hands.[1501] When this was done by the proudest aristocracy in Europe, we may suppose what the general feeling must have been. Indeed, Labat assures us, that a Spaniard would hardly be considered of sound faith, if he did not leave some portion of his property to the Church; so completely had respect for the hierarchy become an essential part of the national character.[1502]

A still more curious instance was exhibited on the occasion of the expulsion of the Jesuits. That once useful, but now troublesome, body was, during the eighteenth century, what it is in the nineteenth—the obstinate enemy of progress and of toleration. The rulers of Spain, observing that it opposed all their schemes of reform, resolved to get rid of an obstacle, which met them at every turn. In France, the Jesuits had just been treated as a public nuisance, and suppressed at a blow, and without difficulty. The advisers of Charles III. saw no reason why so salutary a measure should not be imitated in their country; and, in 1767, they, following the example which had been set by the French in 1764, abolished this great mainstay of the Church.[1503] Having done this, the government supposed that it had taken a decisive step towards weakening ecclesiastical power, particularly as the sovereign cordially approved of the proceeding. The year after this occurred, Charles III., according to his custom, appeared in the balcony of the palace, on the festival of St. Charles, ready to grant any request which the people might make to him, and which usually consisted of a prayer for the dismissal of a minister, or for the repeal of a tax. On this occasion, however, the citizens of Madrid, instead of occupying themselves with such worldly matters, felt that still dearer interests were in peril; and, to the surprise and terror of the court, they demanded, with one voice, that the Jesuits should be allowed to return, and wear their usual dress, in order that Spain might be gladdened by the sight of these holy men.[1504]

What can you do with a nation like this? What is the use of laws when the current of public opinion thus sets in against them? In the face of such obstacles, the government of Charles III., notwithstanding its good intentions, was powerless. Indeed, it was worse than powerless: it did harm; for, by rousing popular sympathy in favour of the Church, it strengthened what it sought to weaken. On that cruel and persecuting Church, stained as it was with every sort of crime, the Spanish nation continued to bestow marks of affection, which, instead of being diminished, were increased. Gifts and legacies flowed in freely and from every side; men being willing to beggar themselves and their families, in order to swell the general contribution. And to such a height was this carried, that, in 1788, Florida Blanca, minister of the crown, stated that, within the last fifty years, the ecclesiastical revenues had increased so rapidly, that many of them had doubled in value.[1505]

Even the Inquisition, the most barbarous institution which the wit of man has ever devised, was upheld by public opinion against the attacks of the crown. The Spanish government wished to overthrow it, and did everything to weaken it; but the Spanish people loved it as of old, and cherished it as their best protection against the inroads of heresy.[1506] An illustration of this was exhibited in 1778, when, on occasion of a heretic being sentenced by the Inquisition, several of the leading nobles attended as servants, being glad to have an opportunity of publicly displaying their obedience and docility to the Church.[1507]

All these things were natural, and in order. They were the result of a long train of causes, the operation of which I have endeavoured to trace, during thirteen centuries, since the outbreak of the Arian war. Those causes forced the Spaniards to be superstitious, and it was idle mockery to seek to change their nature by legislation. The only remedy for superstition is knowledge. Nothing else can wipe out that plague-spot of the human mind. Without it, the leper remains unwashed, and the slave unfreed. It is to a knowledge of the laws and relations of things, that European civilization is owing; but it is precisely this in which Spain has always been deficient. And until that deficiency is remedied, until science, with her bold and inquisitive spirit, has established her right to investigate all subjects, after her own fashion, and according to her own method, we may be assured that, in Spain, neither literature, nor universities, nor legislators, nor reformers of any kind, will ever be able to rescue the people from that helpless and benighted condition into which the course of affairs has plunged them.

That no great political improvement, however plausible or attractive it may appear, can be productive of lasting benefit, unless it is preceded by a change in public opinion, and that every change of public opinion is preceded by changes in knowledge, are propositions which all history verifies, but which are particularly obvious in the history of Spain. The Spaniards have had everything except knowledge. They have had immense wealth, and fertile and well-peopled territories, in all parts of the globe. Their own country, washed by the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, and possessed of excellent harbours, is admirably situated for the purposes of trade between Europe and America, being so placed as to command the commerce of both hemispheres.[1508] They had, at a very early period, ample municipal privileges; they had independent parliaments; they had the right of choosing their own magistrates, and managing their own cities. They have had rich and flourishing towns, abundant manufactures, and skilful artizans, whose choice productions could secure a ready sale in every market in the world. They have cultivated the fine arts with eminent success; their noble and exquisite paintings, and their magnificent churches, being justly ranked among the most wonderful efforts of the human hand. They speak a beautiful, sonorous, and flexible language, and their literature is not unworthy of their language. Their soil yields treasures of every kind. It overflows with wine and oil, and produces the choicest fruits in an almost tropical exuberance.[1509] It contains the most valuable minerals, in a profuse variety unexampled in any other part of Europe. No where else do we find such rare and costly marbles, so easily accessible, and in such close communication with the sea, where they might safely be shipped, and sent to countries which require them.[1510] As to the metals, there is hardly one which Spain does not possess in large quantities. Her mines of silver and of quicksilver are well known. She abounds in copper,[1511] and her supply of lead is enormous.[1512] Iron and coal, the two most useful of all the productions of the inorganic world,[1513] are also abundant in that highly favoured country. Iron is said to exist in every part of Spain, and to be of the best quality;[1514] while the coal-mines of Asturias are described as inexhaustible.[1515] In short, nature has been so prodigal of her bounty, that it has been observed, with hardly an hyperbole, that the Spanish nation possesses within itself nearly every natural production which can satisfy either the necessity or the curiosity of mankind.[1516]

These are splendid gifts; it is for the historian to tell how they have been used. Certainly, the people who possess them have never been deficient in natural endowments. They have had their full share of great statesmen, great kings, great magistrates, and great legislators. They have had many able and vigorous rulers; and their history is ennobled by the frequent appearance of courageous and disinterested patriots, who have sacrificed their all, that they might help their country. The bravery of the people has never been disputed; while, as to the upper classes, the punctilious honour of a Spanish gentleman has passed into a bye-word, and circulated through the world. Of the nation generally, the best observers pronounce them to be high-minded, generous, truthful, full of integrity, warm and zealous friends, affectionate in all the private relations of life, frank, charitable, and humane.[1517] Their sincerity in religious matters is unquestionable;[1518] they are, moreover, eminently temperate and frugal.[1519] Yet, all these great qualities have availed them nothing, and will avail them nothing, so long as they remain ignorant. What the end of all this will be, and whether in their unhappy country the right path will ever be taken, is impossible for any one to say.[1520] But if it is not taken, no amelioration which can possibly be effected will penetrate below the surface. The sole course is, to weaken the superstition of the people; and this can only be done by that march of physical science, which, familiarizing men with conceptions of order and of regularity, gradually encroaches on the old notions of perturbation, of prodigy, and of miracle, and by this means accustoms the mind to explain the vicissitudes of affairs by natural considerations, instead of, as heretofore, by those which are purely supernatural.

To this, in the most advanced countries of Europe, every thing has been tending for nearly three centuries. But in Spain, unfortunately, education has always remained, and still remains, in the hands of the clergy, who steadily oppose that progress of knowledge, which they are well aware would be fatal to their own power.[1521] The people, therefore, resting ignorant, and the causes which kept them in ignorance continuing, it avails the country nothing, that, from time to time, enlightened rulers have come forward, and liberal measures been adopted. The Spanish reformers have, with rare exceptions, eagerly attacked the Church, whose authority they clearly saw ought to be diminished. But what they did not see is, that such diminution can be of no real use unless it is the result of public opinion urging on politicians to the work. In Spain, politicians took the initiative, and the people lagged behind. Hence, in Spain, what was done at one time was sure to be undone at another. When the liberals were in power, they suppressed the Inquisition; but Ferdinand VII. easily restored it, because, though it had been destroyed by Spanish legislators, its existence was suited to the habits and traditions of the Spanish nation.[1522] Fresh changes occurring, this odious tribunal was, in 1820, again abolished. Still, though its form is gone, its spirit lives.[1523] The name, the body, and the visible appearance of the Inquisition, are no more; but the spirit which generated the Inquisition is enshrined in the hearts of the people, and, on slight provocation, would burst forth, and reinstate an institution which is the effect, far more than the cause, of the intolerant bigotry of the Spanish nation.