The weather, by impeding for a while any advance on the part of the allies, allowed him time for this. Lord Wellington waited till it should become more favourable, having obtained possession of a large tract of country, and being in a situation from whence to resume his operations with advantage, as soon as the season might permit. Upon first entering France he had circulated among the inhabitants those general orders in which he enjoined his troops to respect their persons and property, accompanying them with a brief proclamation to the people. He had given, he said, and would enforce these positive orders for preventing those evils that might otherwise be looked for as the ordinary consequences of an invasion, which they knew was the result of their own government’s invasion of Spain, and of the victories of the allied armies. He requested them to apprehend and bring before him any person who, disobeying these instructions, might offer them any injury; and, on their side, he required them to remain in their houses, and take no part in the war of which their country was now to be the scene. Great injury must inevitably be endured by the inhabitants of any country upon which that visitation falls; but none was suffered now which could be prevented by vigilant discipline, founded upon just views of policy and a strict sense of justice. On the morning after the line of the Nivelle had been forced, a peasant was brought before Lord Wellington, having been taken near the British outposts: the man’s simple account of himself was, that he was going to drive his sheep to Bayonne; upon which he was told that he might go where he pleased, and take his sheep where he pleased too. When the French saw that the peasantry were thus treated, ... that the very few who were taken in arms were shipped off, like other prisoners, for England, ... and that marauders were brought to summary punishment, they perceived that their invaders were as equitable as they were brave, and that the word of a British general was sacred.

The guerrilla troops, whom it would have been more difficult to restrain, were kept upon their own frontier. The discipline of the Portugueze was as good as that of the English. Marshal Beresford, when he commended them in one of his orders for their excellent conduct at the line of the Nivelle, expressed his particular satisfaction with their behaviour in their quarters and towards the inhabitants in general. They had proved, he said, their superiority over the French troops in the field of battle; and they had shown, also, to the French people that they were not less superior to those troops in humanity and in their whole deportment, whereby, as well as by their discipline and courage, they did honour to their country. The Portugueze were not less gratified by another order which Marshal Beresford issued after the passage of the Nive. He had deemed it necessary, in the spring of the preceding year, to deprive certain militia regiments of their colours, till ♦Marshal Beresford restores the colours of certain Portugueze regiments. Dec. 29.♦ they should have redeemed their character in the presence of the enemy; this, he said, they had had no opportunity of doing, the war having happily been removed far from their own country: but regiments raised in the same parts of Portugal, composed of their brethren and other near kinsmen, and in which, in fact, many of the very men who, in the said militias, had incurred this disgrace, were now serving, had, in the late series of victories, demeaned themselves so gallantly, that they had re-established the character of their respective provinces; wherefore in justice he ordered that their colours should be restored. Their misconduct, he added, had proceeded not from want of courage, but from insubordination, ... and that, too, not the effect of wilful disobedience, but arising from habits of undue familiarity between the officers and the men, owing to which, the latter were not prepared to render prompt obedience when it was indispensable. He reminded the officers, therefore, how necessary it was that they should obtain the respect of their soldiers by treatment at the same time just, impartial, gentle, and firm; and observed that the provincial governors would see the necessity henceforth of recommending, for commissions in the militia, persons who were qualified by their means and by their ♦Correio Braziliense, t. 12, p. 306.♦ local respectability. Marshal Beresford understood the national character. The Portugueze were in no slight degree gratified by this: they were proud of the military reputation which they had now established, and not less deservedly of that national feeling which they had manifested under every circumstance ♦Conduct of Spanish and Portugueze soldiers at Dantzic.♦ of good or evil fortune. A signal example of this feeling was given shortly afterwards by a battalion of Portugueze and Spaniards, composed of men who had been entrapped into the enemy’s service before the commencement of the struggle in their own country. They formed part of the garrison of Dantzic when the allies besieged it; and, knowing that the besiegers were in alliance with Spain and Portugal, no threats or inducements could prevail upon them to bear arms in defence of the city: in consequence of this firm refusal, the French commander compelled them to work upon the fortifications; but they had their reward; and when the place surrendered, they were maintained at the expense of the Russian government till they could be transported to England on their way home.

The Spanish government had shown no want of gratitude to Lord Wellington in conferring upon him honours and rewards; but while in such things they conformed to the national sentiment, their conduct sometimes manifested a want of that frank and generous confidence which ought to have been given in as full measure as it was deserved. In direct breach of the engagement made with him when he accepted the command of the Spanish armies, they had superseded Castaños, and made other changes, not only without his advice and concurrence, but contrary to his wishes, and in disregard of his remonstrances: and this might have produced the most injurious effect, if the war had not speedily been transferred to the enemy’s country. Libels were circulated imputing sinister views to England, because some of its troops still remained at Cadiz and at Carthagena; and the government allowed these libels to circulate without taking any means for counteracting the impression which the calumny was intended to produce. Lord Wellington withdrew the troops as soon (after their presence had ceased to be necessary there) as he could obtain the Prince Regent’s orders; and, in notifying this to the British ambassador, he stated the circumstances under which those fortresses had been garrisoned at the request ♦November.Change of the Regency.♦ of the Spanish government itself; expressed his surprise that the existing government, knowing these facts, should yet have allowed such calumnies to pass uncontradicted, and requested that his letter might be published. The Regency was, indeed, at this time the mere instrument of the Cortes, which had displaced the late regents by a summary vote, for demurring to enforce an impolitic decree that the clergy scrupled to obey. Cardinal Bourbon, Don Pedro Agar, and Don Gabriel Ciscar were appointed in their stead to a station which possessed only a nominal authority, the Cortes, under the dictation of a party more ardent than wise, having now arrogated to itself the whole actual power.

A whimsical proof had recently occurred of the readiness with which certain Spaniards accredited any imputation, however absurd, upon the intentions of the British government. A foolish paragraph had appeared in some Irish newspaper, saying, that Lord Wellington deserved to be made King of Spain; and that some of the grandees had offered to raise him to the throne! This found its way to Spain; and the Duques of Ossuna and Frias, the Visconde de Gante, and the Marques de Villena, published forthwith a letter to inform the world, that they neither did, nor would, acknowledge any other King than Ferdinand VII.; ... that they detested and abhorred the very idea of any usurper ruling over the Spaniards; ... and that they were persuaded that the other grandees, as soon as this statement should come to their knowledge, would hasten, in like manner, to give a public testimony of their principles and their fidelity.

Parliament met early in November, under more auspicious circumstances than at any time since the baneful commencement of the French revolution. England, which had stood alone in the contest against the most formidable military power that had ever existed in the civilized world, was now in alliance, not with the Spaniards and Portugueze alone, but with Russia, Prussia, Austria, Sweden, Bavaria, and Holland. Buonaparte had been driven back over the Rhine; and a British army, after beating the French from the lines of Torres Vedras to the Pyrenees, had passed that boundary and entered France. Upon this occasion some of those statesmen who had been most decided in their opposition to government acknowledged the wisdom, and rejoiced in the success of that policy which they had formerly condemned. ♦Lord Grenville. Nov. 4.♦ “Upon this grand question,” said Lord Grenville, “all party conflicts must be swallowed up and lost; it is the cause of no party, of no set of individuals, but of the whole nation joined in sentiment and in action to effect a great and glorious purpose. Internal tranquillity,” he said, “might be considered as the first, and external peace as the second, blessing that any power under Heaven could confer upon a people; but what we desired and expected was the real blessing of peace, not the empty name; not the shadow, but the substance. Too long did deluded Europe, by temporary and partial truces, by concession following concession, purchase from the insatiable enemy a precarious quiet, a troubled sleep, furnishing to her foe the very means of his aggression, and of her own subjugation. The time, my lords, is now arrived (and I rejoice that I have lived to see the hour) when the walls of a British parliament may again re-echo a sound formerly held sacred in this country, and upon the observance of which, I will venture to assert, depends the hope of the restoration of peace to Europe; ... I allude to the old-fashioned tenet, now almost forgotten, of a balance of power in Europe; and I offer up my thanks, with humble gratitude, to the Supreme Disposer of events, that after so long a period he has permitted me to behold my native land in such a commanding situation, as to be able again to pursue that which ought to be the only legitimate object of foreign policy, I mean, the establishment and preservation of a balance of power in Europe. Now, then, let Great Britain resume her ancient policy: let her once more perceive that the only mode by which the independence of the great commonwealth of Europe can be secured, is not by perpetual peace (for that is the visionary dream of visionary men), but by the maintenance of this balance, by which, even in war itself, the weak will find refuge from oppression. Whatever plans may be suggested, having this in view, I shall meet with the most earnest wish to find that they are compatible with the interests of the country. I cannot be ignorant of the difficulties that may be opposed: I do, however, fervently hope, nay, I believe, that they may be surmounted. Do me not the injustice of believing that these opinions are the result merely of the exultation felt in consequence of recent and unexpected events. Undoubtedly such events are calculated to warm the heart of every individual who feels not only for the natural rights of man, but for the independence of nations; but those with whom I have been in the habit of confidential communication know my deliberate opinion, that the existence of such a confederation as has now been formed, of itself irresistibly calls upon Great Britain to employ all her energies, and devote all her exertions to the success of a common and a glorious cause. I was prepared to add an exhortation, that as the chances of war must necessarily be precarious, you would prepare yourselves to meet with firmness those disasters which human foresight could not predict, and which human wisdom could not prevent. Even now, under circumstances that might seem almost to justify the confidence of certainty, I offer that exhortation. If in the course of human events (although I see little cause to fear) any unforeseen calamity should unfortunately occur, remember the glorious cause in which you are engaged; it may for an instant damp your hopes, but let it not damp your ardour or shake your resolution. Be assured, my lords, of this, ... (I hope you are already assured of it,) that there is for this country no separate safety, no separate peace! There is neither safety nor peace for England, but with the safety and peace of Europe; ... as for continental Europe, it is equally true, that an indissoluble union, a firm confederation with this country can alone secure for all liberty, tranquillity, and happiness, ... can alone obtain peace, now almost beyond the memory of living man. The plain duty of this country, placing its trust in Providence, is to improve by every possible exertion the bright prospect that lies before us. With the energies of Great Britain duly applied, ultimate success may be confidently anticipated; we may now look forward to the speedy accomplishment of that great purpose for which we have already sacrificed, performed, and endured so much, ... and for which we are still ready to sacrifice, perform, and endure.”

In the same spirit, Marquis Wellesley declared, that the satisfaction he felt in the events which had now changed the destinies of Europe was with him a principle and not a sentiment. “It was not so much,” he said, “because those events had raised the military reputation of this country and of our allies, that they had the highest value in his eyes, but because they were the natural result of wise and cautious measures, executed with the greatest degree of vigour; and displaying a wisdom of combination and prudence of plan which could not fail ultimately to be rewarded with the success by which they were attended. He would not dwell on former errors; but he would not hesitate to say that the glorious successes which had lately crowned our arms in Spain, and the arms of our allies in the north of Europe, were to be traced to the long train of persevering councils persisted in by the government of this country. Though those councils had not always immediately produced the results that were expected, they were not the less the cause of what had ultimately taken place. While we were exerting ourselves in a struggle apparently hopeless, at that moment the public councils of this country were of the utmost importance to European liberty; for opportunity was thus given to the rest of Europe to re-consider their former errors, and to learn that great lesson which the example of Britain afforded them. Nothing could be more true than the last words which that great statesman, Mr. Pitt, ever delivered in public, that England had saved herself by her firmness, and other nations by her example. What a satisfactory and consoling reflection was it for us, that from this fountain the sacred waters of gladness and glory had flowed; ... that to the persevering spirit of this country it was owing that other nations were at last animated to deeds worthy of the cause in which they were engaged, and of the example which was set them!”

Lord Liverpool rejoiced that on this great occasion a spirit of unanimity prevailed in the British parliament. “We had seen,” he said, “during the preceding twenty years, coalitions whose size promised strength, crushed by the power of the enemy: what was it then which had given this irresistible impulse to the present? The feeling of national independence, that feeling which first arose in the Peninsula, gave the war a new character, and afforded grounds to hope not only for the deliverance of that country, but of the rest of Europe. There had before been wars of governments, but none like this between nations; and all our principles of policy and prudence must have been belied if the issue of the present confederacy had not been very different from that of any of the former ones. They had before them examples of perseverance unexampled in any other cause than that of liberty; they had seen the least military nations of Europe become formidable, and successfully resist the best disciplined troops of France. Small as Portugal was, the establishment of the Portugueze army had been of the greatest consequence, as the foundation of the success of the allied armies in the Peninsula; and as it gave, in addition to the general national feeling, a military tone, under the influence of which the Portugueze troops have been raised to an equality with the British. He was advancing no paradox, but a truth which was felt and admitted on the continent, when he said that the success of the peninsular cause gave new life to the suffering nations of Europe.”

This theme was pursued in the House of Commons with great eloquence by Mr. Charles Grant. “If,” said he, “we had shown a dastardly spirit at the commencement of these troubles, where now would have been the deliverance of Europe? There will be no prouder page in history than that which tells of this struggle and its victorious result, ... which tells that at a time when the foundations of the world seemed to be shaken, when all former constitutions were swept away, rather as if by a sudden whirlwind than by any of the ordinary means of destruction, ... there was yet one nation, which, reposing under the shade of a happy constitution, proud of its ancient liberties and worthy to defend them, dared to measure its strength at one time against the unnatural energies of a frantic democracy, at another time against the gigantic resources of the most tremendous despotism that ever scourged the world. If, after this narration, history were obliged to add that in this struggle at last we fell, but that we fell gloriously, with our arms in our hands and our faces to the foe, even this would have been no mean praise: but, thank God, history will be called, not to lament the fall of British greatness, but to celebrate its renewed exploits and its living triumphs.... It is to the theatre of these triumphs, it is to that soil which but lately seemed incapable of producing a single effort, that the moralist of after-ages will resort for examples when he denounces the fall of unhallowed greatness. There too will the patriot look for lessons of enthusiasm and disinterested virtue; and this is the glorious feature of the present war. I have heard it observed of America, that her conduct has dispelled those classical associations which we have been accustomed to indulge of republican virtue and republican excellence. The remark was not more eloquently than justly made. But if we are obliged to give up that class of associations, I perceive with exultation that there is another which we may now cherish with additional fondness; I mean, those associations which enforce the belief of instinctive patriotism, of unbidden enthusiasm in the cause of virtue, of the grandeur of self-devotion, of the magnanimity of great sacrifices for great objects, for honour, for independence. We must all recollect with what delight we imbibed these sentiments at the fountains of classical learning, and followed them out into action in the history of great men and illustrious states. But of late there seems to have crept into this nation a sort of spurious and barren philosophy, of which it was the object to decry these associations, to represent them as the illusions of ignorance, or frenzy, or falsehood, to curb the original play of nature, to inculcate coldness and selfishness upon system, and to substitute in the place of all that formed the delight of a higher philosophy, a spirit of lazy deliberation, conducted by apathy, and ending therefore in meanness and dishonour. It was this philosophy which taught that it is not only more prudent, but more conformable to the laws of our being, for every man in time of danger to reason before he followed the promptings of true courage; to make it a matter of calculation whether his country be worth saving before he draws the sword in her defence; to reduce it to a question of algebra, or a problem in geometry, whether he should resist the efforts of tyranny, or bow before the yoke! The sleep which seemed to have spread over Europe gave too much countenance to these pernicious maxims; but the hour has at length come which has exposed their fallacy, and rescued human nature from such calumnies. The experience of the few last years has confuted that heartless and bloodless system, the miserable abortion of a cold head and depraved imagination, which never wakened one noble thought, nor inspired one generous action. The experience of the few last years has proved that those high sentiments which we were taught to respect are not false and visionary; but that they are founded upon whatever is deepest and purest in the human character. It has proved that true reason is never at war with just feeling; that man is now what he was in those distant ages, ... a creature born indeed to act upon principle, but born also to act upon strong passions; and that he never acts more nobly, more wisely, more worthily of himself, than when he acts upon the prompt persuasion of grand passions, sublimed and directed by lofty principles.”

Even Mr. Whitbread felt it necessary to say, that the proud exultation which then was manifested throughout the nation was hailed by no one, in the House or in the country, with more enthusiastic feelings than by himself; and that he gave credit to the ministry, and to him who was at the head of it, till cut off by the dreadful deed which every one deplored, “for the great and steady confidence which they had placed in the talents and genius of our great commander,” ... that confidence for which Mr. Whitbread and the party with whom he acted had so often, so confidently, and so contemptuously reproached them! He insisted, however, that the deliverance of Europe had not been brought about by following Mr. Pitt’s policy; and that if the counsels of Mr. Fox had been listened to, the carnage of the present campaign would not have been necessary. “And,” said he, “I am particularly glad to observe the explicit terms of the Prince Regent’s speech, in which it is distinctly avowed that no disposition is entertained to require from France sacrifices of any description inconsistent with her honour or just pretensions as a nation. I sincerely hope this feeling pervades the whole alliance; an alliance with which I am not inclined to quarrel, as I have been with former ones, for it is promoted and cemented by a feeling of common danger and necessity, and not purchased and raised up to oppress France. It has arisen from the keen and indignant sentiment which the grinding oppression of France herself has excited; and it holds out a memorable lesson to the governments of Europe. France, in the course of her career since the revolution, disturbed and overthrew the ancient monarchies, upon the pretext of their tyranny and despotism; but when those states passed under the power of France, who was to liberate them, they found themselves subjected to a despotism still more odious, to a thraldom still more insupportable. The Emperor of that country is now in a condition to which, I firmly believe, nothing but his own restless and gigantic ambition could have reduced him: I hope the alliance will profit from this. I do not pretend to know what were the terms proposed to France before the termination of the armistice; but I sincerely hope that now, in the moment of success, the same terms will still be offered.” ... At this there was a general murmur through the House.... “I am not surprised,” he continued, “at hearing this murmur: perhaps I am misunderstood. What I mean to say is, and that I will maintain, that whatever terms may have been proposed to France at that time, as a basis upon which negotiations for peace might take place, I hope the same basis will now be offered, ... or else I see no conclusion to which the war can come.”

Mr. Canning was not present during this debate, but he took the first opportunity that presented itself for delivering his sentiments. “If,” said he, “in the present state of this country and of the world, those who, during the course of the tremendous and protracted struggle, on various occasions, called upon Parliament to pause, to retard its too rapid and too rash advance, and to draw back from the task it had unwisely undertaken to perform, ... if those persons have manfully and honourably stepped forward to join their congratulations to the joyful acclamations of the nation, and to admit the present to be the period favourable for a mighty and decided effort, how much more grateful must it be to those who, at no time during the struggle, have lifted up their voices in this place, excepting to recommend and to urge new exertions, ... to those who, when the prospects were most dreary and melancholy, insisted that there was but one course becoming the character and honour of Great Britain, ... a persevering and undaunted resistance to the overwhelming power of France! To an individual who, under the most discouraging circumstances, still maintained that the deliverance of Europe (often a derided term) was an object not only worthy of our arms, but possible to be achieved, it must be doubly welcome to come forward and vindicate his share in the national exultation. If, too, on the other hand, there have been those who, having recommended pacification when the opportunity was less favourable, are now warranted, as undoubtedly they are, in uttering the same sentiments, in the confidence that the country will sympathize with them, it is natural for those who, under other circumstances, have discouraged the expectation of peace, and have warned the nation against precipitate overtures, now to be anxious to embrace this occasion of stating their sincere conviction and their joy (as strongly felt by them as by others) that, by the happy course of events during the last year, and by the wise policy we shall now pursue, peace may not, perhaps, be within our grasp, but is at least within our view. It is impossible to look back upon those times when the enemy vaunted, and we perhaps feared, that we should have been compelled to sue for peace, without, amid all the ebullition of joy, returning thanks to that Providence which gave us courage and heart still to bear up against accumulating calamity. Peace is safe now, because it is not dictated; peace is safe now, for it is the fruit of exertion, the child of victory; peace is safe now, because it will not be purchased at the expense of the interest and of the honour of the empire: it is not the ransom to buy off danger, but the fruit of the mighty means which we have employed to drive danger from our shores. I must, with heartfelt delight, congratulate my country, that, groaning as she has done at former periods under the heavy pressure of adverse war, still ‘peace was despaired of, for who could think of submission?’ Her strength, her endurance have been tried and proved by every mode of assault that the most refined system of hostility could invent, not only by open military attacks, but by low attempts to destroy her commercial prosperity: the experiment has been made, the experiment has failed; and we are now triumphantly, but not arrogantly, to consider what measures of security should be adopted, or on what terms a peace should be concluded.

“But has this country gained nothing by the glorious contest, even supposing peace should be far distant? Is it nothing to Great Britain, even purchased at so large a price, that her military character has been exalted? Is it no satisfaction ... no compensation to her ... to reflect that the splendid scenes displayed on the continent are owing to her efforts? that the victories of Germany are to be attributed to our victories in the Peninsula? That spark, often feeble, and sometimes so nearly extinguished as to excite despair in all hearts that were not above it, ... that spark which was lighted in Portugal, which was fed and nourished there, has at length burst into a flame that has dazzled and illuminated Europe. At the commencement of this war, our empire rested upon one majestic column, our naval power. In the prosecution of the war, a hero has raised another stupendous pillar of strength to support our monarchy, ... our military pre-eminence. It is now that we may boast not only of superiority at sea, but on shore; the same energy and heroism exist in both the arms of Great Britain: they are rivals in strength, but inseparable in glory. Out of the calamities of war has arisen a principle of safety, that superior to all attacks, shall survive through ages, and to which our posterity shall look forward. Compare the situation of England with her condition at the renewal of the war! Were we not then threatened by the aggressions of an enemy even upon our own shores, ... were we not then trembling for the safety and sanctity even of our homes? Now contemplate Wellington encamped on the Bidassoa! I know that a sickly sensibility leads some to doubt whether the advance of Lord Wellington was not rash and precipitate. I cannot enter into that refinement which induces those who affect to know much to hesitate upon this subject: I cannot look with regret upon a British army encamped upon the fertile plains of France: I cannot believe that any new grounds for apprehension are raised by an additional excitement being afforded to the irritability of the French people: I foresee no disadvantage from entering the territories of our enemy not as the conquered but the conquerors! I cannot regret that the Portugueze are now looking upon the walls of Bayonne ‘that circle in those wolves’ which would have devastated their capital, ... that the Portugueze now behold planted on the towers of Bayonne the standard which their enemy would have made to float upon the walls of Lisbon! I cannot think it a matter of regret, that the Spaniards are now recovering from the grasp of an enemy on his own shores, that diadem which was stripped from the brow of the Bourbons to be pocketed by a usurper! I cannot think it a matter of regret that England formerly threatened with invasion is now the invader, ... that France instead of England is the scene of conflict! I cannot think all this matter of regret; and of those who believe that the nation or myself are blinded by our successes, I entreat that they will leave me to my delusion, and keep their philosophy to themselves.

“Our enemy,” the accomplished orator pursued, “who enslaved the press and made it contribute so importantly to his own purposes of ambition, endeavoured to impress upon other nations a belief that Great Britain fought only to secure her own interests, and that her views were completely selfish. That illusion is now destroyed, and the designs of this country are vindicated. We call on all the powers with whom we have been or are at war to do us justice in this respect: above all we claim it of America! I ask her to review her own and the policy of this country. Now she can behold Buonaparte in his naked deformity, stripped of the false glory which success cast around him; the spell of his invincibility is now dissolved; she can now look at him without that awe which an uninterrupted series of victories had created. Were she now to survey him as he is, what would be the result? She would trace him by the desolation of empires, and the dismemberment of states. She would see him pursuing his course over the ruins of men and of things: slavery to the people and destruction to commerce, hostility to literature, to light, and life, were the principles upon which he acted. His object was to extinguish patriotism, and to confound allegiance; to darken as well as to enslave; to roll back the tide of civilization; to barbarize as well as to desolate mankind. Then let America turn from these scenes of bloodshed and horror, and compare with them the effect of British interference! She will see that wherever this country has exerted herself, it has been to raise the fallen and to support the falling; to raise, not to degrade the national character; to rouse the sentiments of patriotism which tyranny had silenced; to enlighten, to reanimate, to liberate. Great Britain has resuscitated Spain, and re-created Portugal; Germany is now a nation as well as a name; and all these glorious effects have been produced by the efforts and by the example of our country. If to be the deliverers of Europe; if to have raised our own national character, not upon the ruins of other kingdoms; if to meet dangers without shrinking, and to possess courage rising with difficulties, be admirable, surely we may not unreasonably hope for the applause of the world. If we have founded our strength upon a rock, and possess the implicit confidence of those allies whom we have succoured when they seemed beyond relief, then I say that our exertions during the last year, and all our efforts during the war, are cheaply purchased; if we have burdened ourselves, we have relieved others; and we have the inward, the soul-felt, the proud satisfaction of knowing that a selfish charge is that which, with the faintest shadow of justice, cannot be brought against us.”

This speech was wormwood to Mr. Whitbread; he animadverted in reply upon what he termed the overweening self-complacency with which Mr. Canning talked of the share we had had in giving a decisive turn to the aspect of affairs in the North; it was the conduct of this country, he asserted, which had enabled Buonaparte to proceed as he had done in his unprincipled career: Great Britain had made Buonaparte, and he had undone himself. “If there were no broad and definite outline previously laid down,” he said, “and firmly adhered to, as to the demands on the part of the allies, or the concessions on that of France, which were to form the groundwork of a general peace, he would venture to predict that before long some one or other of the allies would make a separate treaty founded on its own views or interests. And if we attempted blindly to push our advantages too far, he feared we should rouse the same irresistible power in France which in 1793 had repelled the combined attacks of all Europe, which had since led on the Emperor of the French to his conquests, and which might again turn the tide of success against us.”

In pursuance of these opinions, Mr. Whitbread, when a bill was brought in for allowing three-fourths of any militia regiment to volunteer for foreign service, moved to insert in the preamble to the bill, that this was for bringing the war to a speedy and happy termination, and obtaining the blessings of peace upon terms of reciprocity, honour, and security, to all the belligerent powers. What he meant by reciprocity between some of those powers he would have found it difficult to explain; ... but the proposed insertion was negatived as unnecessary, and Mr. Whitbread neither opposed the bill, nor the supplies voted for carrying into effect the engagements of this nation with its ♦Lord Holland. Dec. 20.♦ allies. Lord Holland approved of the confidence which was thus placed in ministers. “Although,” he said, “great part of the happy results of this war might be justly attributed to a powerful popular impulse, and to that infatuation on the part of the enemy, which, thank God, always attended the long abuse of power, ... yet it must be felt that a great deal of the merit is to be attributed to the conduct of the government of this country. If the sentiments of an individual,” he pursued, “are of consequence enough to arrest your attention, it must be in your Lordships’ recollection that I always approved of the interposition and interference of ministers in the cause of Spain. The merit of such policy appears, and ever has appeared to my judgment, quite indisputable, and must now indeed be universally admitted; for, aided by the uncommon genius of Lord Wellington, that policy has produced the most important results. It has driven the enemy from that country which he had so long and so unremittingly oppressed. It has presented a most encouraging and impressive example to Europe of what a people excited by oppression were capable of achieving. It has changed the whole character of the war, by making it a war of the people. But a still farther advantage has arisen out of this policy. A most atrocious calumny had become current in Europe, that the government of this country was always ready to distribute its subsidies with a view to embroil the nations of the continent, while it kept its own people aloof from the contest. No such impression can ever again prevail in Europe. The calumny has been effectually refuted by the policy we have pursued with respect to Spain; for there we have not only given our money but our men; there we have given our money, not to excite the people but to enable them to act, and we have seconded their exertions by a powerful army.

“In declaring my approbation of ministers in consequence of their moderate language and conduct, that approbation is, of course, founded upon a hope and confidence, that the very different language which appears in certain publications has in no degree their sanction or countenance. Sounding a violent and barbarous war-whoop through the country, abounding in coarse, vulgar, virulent epithets, these publications complete their abominable character by excitements to assassination. Although the French ruler has rendered himself so odious by his conduct, yet it must be admitted that he is a great military commander, still at the head of a great nation; and is it fitting that the press of this country should become the means of advising the assassination of such a man, ... nay, of exhorting to the deed? and what else can be meant by the repeated declaration, that no peace can be concluded while this individual lives? The French ruler is no doubt ambitious, inordinately ambitious; but if it were resolved that no peace should be made with France while it was under the government of an ambitious man, when, I would ask, could peace be expected? The meaning, however, of all the publications I have referred to, may be to recommend the restoration of the Bourbon family; but the attempt at such a measure would be totally inconsistent with the professed moderation and policy of ministers. That restoration might be good; but it would be preposterous to look for the success of such an object through the intervention of foreign armies; and it would be opposite to the policy and principle of ministers to engage in any such undertaking.”

Alluding then to the just remark of Lord Grenville, that one great advantage resulting from the recent changes on the continent was, that it afforded an opportunity for restoring the balance of power, “I must be allowed,” said Lord Holland, “to say, that the re-establishment and maintenance of that balance can never consist in, nor depend upon, particular divisions of territory, so much as upon the existence of a general feeling among the European states, that it is the interest of each to preserve the independence of each and all. Such is the feeling which gave birth and cement to the present confederacy; and therefore I wish that such a confederacy may continue to exist in peace as well as in war. I esteem the principle of this confederacy, because it appears solicitous to preserve the interest of all, without gratifying the peculiar interest of any one; and upon that principle I would rather leave France with such possessions as should make her feel an interest in the common object of the confederacy, than transfer from her to any other state any possessions which might be likely to withdraw that state from the general feeling which it is the interest of peace and Europe to improve and strengthen.”

It was well for Great Britain and for the continent that Buonaparte was not contented with such terms of peace as the allies, with a generosity which had neither the character of wisdom nor of justice, would a little before this have granted him. Even when he had been driven over the Rhine, they would, according to their own declaration, have left France more powerful than she had ever been under her kings, if he would have consented to give up Italy. Out of Germany and out of the Peninsula he had been beaten; but they would have allowed France to remain with the whole of the Netherlands, and with the Rhine for her boundary, if vain-glory and a blind confidence in his fortune had not still demented Buonaparte. But he declared that he would not under any circumstances abandon Italy; and they who ought not, under any circumstances, now to have negotiated with him, prepared to enter France. On his part he collected the largest force that that exhausted country could supply, to resist the impending invasion; and as it thus became an object of great importance for him to bring to his assistance Suchet’s army, and the troops who were shut up in the remaining garrisons in Valencia and Catalonia, he thought this might be effected by dictating a treaty to ♦Buonaparte treats with Ferdinand.♦ his prisoner, Ferdinand. Accordingly he sent the Comte de Laforest to Valençay, to negotiate with that poor Prince, saying, that under the existing circumstances of his empire and his policy, he wished at once to settle the affairs of Spain; that England was encouraging Jacobinism and anarchy there, for the purpose of destroying the nobility and the monarchy, and erecting a republic; that he could not but grievously feel the destruction of a neighbouring state, connected by so many maritime and commercial interests with his own; that he desired to remove every pretext for English interference, and to re-establish those ties of friendship and good neighbourhood by which Spain and France had been so long connected; and therefore he had sent the Comte de Laforest under a feigned name, to whom his Royal Highness might give entire credit in all that he should propose.

The Comte accordingly presented himself under the name of M. Dubois, in order that the negotiation might be kept secret, because, if the English were to discover, they would use every means for frustrating it. The Emperor, he represented, had done all he could in Bayonne to accommodate the differences which then existed between father and son; but the English had marred every thing; they had introduced Jacobinism into Spain, where the land was laid waste, religion destroyed, the clergy ruined, the nobility crushed, the marine existing only in name, the colonies dismembered and in insurrection, and, in fine, everything overthrown. Those islanders desired nothing but to change the monarchy into a republic; and yet, to deceive the people, they put the name of his Royal Highness at the head of all their public acts. Moved by these calamities, and by the lamentations of all good Spaniards, the Emperor had chosen him for this important mission, because of his long experience, for he had been more than forty years in the diplomatic career, and had resided in every court; but, as there were so many persons who knew him, he requested that the Spanish princes on their part would contribute to keep the affair secret. Ferdinand had at this time none with whom to consult, except his brother and his uncle, who were both as inexperienced in business as himself. He replied, that so unexpected a proposition required much reflection; he must have time for considering it, and would let him know the result. Laforest, without waiting for this, obtained an audience on the following day, and then said, that if his Majesty accepted the kingdom of Spain, which the Emperor wished to restore to him, they must concert means for getting the English out of that country. To this Ferdinand replied, that he could make no treaty, considering the circumstances in which he was placed at Valençay, and indeed could take no measures without the consent of the nation, as represented by the Regency. The old diplomatist made answer, it certainly was not the intention of the Emperor that his Majesty should do the slightest thing which might be contrary to the wish of Spain; but in this case it would be necessary that he should find means of ascertaining it. Ferdinand then said that, during five years and a half, for so long he had been absent from his own country, he had known nothing more of the state of affairs than what he read in the French newspapers. Those papers, Laforest affirmed, exhibited the true state of things; and he made a speech of some length to prove what Ferdinand was not so devoid of penetration as to believe. He concluded in words to this effect: “He who is born to a kingdom has no will of his own; he must be a king, and is not like a private individual, free to choose for himself that way of life which he may think most agreeable. And where is he who, when a kingdom is offered him, would not instantly accept it? Yet, withal, if he who should be a king were to say, ‘I renounce all dignity from this time, and, far from seeking honours, desire only to lead a private life;’ in that case the affair becomes of a different kind. If, therefore, your Royal Highness is in this predicament, the Emperor must have recourse to other means; but if, as I cannot but believe, your Royal Highness thinks of receiving the sceptre, the indispensable preliminary must be to settle the principal bases of the negotiation upon which afterwards to treat, and for this purpose to appoint a Spaniard, one of those who are at this time in France.” Ferdinand calmly replied that this required consideration. Upon this Laforest observed, that when a kingdom was to be received, there was not much to consider, reasons of state being the sole rule of conduct. But Ferdinand made answer, that he was far from agreeing with him in that maxim; it was his belief that nothing required greater consideration, and he would take time to deliberate upon it.

Ferdinand could not have acted with better judgment at this time, if he had had the ablest statesmen to advise him. In fact, the straight course was the sure one; for, though he had been kept in complete ignorance of all recent events, the very circumstance of this proposal was proof sufficient that Buonaparte’s fortune had failed, and that his motive for giving up his pretensions to Spain was that he was no longer able to support them. On the morrow, he said to the ambassador that, having maturely reflected upon what had been proposed, he must repeat that he could do nothing, and treat of nothing, in his present situation, without consulting with the nation, and of course with the Regency. “The Emperor,” said he, “has placed me here; and if he chooses that I should return to Spain, he it is who must consult and treat with the Regency, because he has means of doing this, and I have not; or he must afford me means, and consent that a deputation from the Regency should come hither, and inform me concerning the state of Spain, and propose to me measures for rendering it happy: any thing which I may then conclude here with his Imperial Majesty will be valid. And it is the more necessary that such a deputation should come, because there is no person in France whom I could fitly employ in this affair.” Laforest replied at some length, endeavouring to persuade him that the English and Portugueze governed Spain, and that their intention was to place the house of Braganza upon the Spanish throne, beginning with his sister, the Princess of Brazil. He also pressed Ferdinand to declare whether, when he returned to Spain, he meant to be the friend or the enemy of the Emperor? This was presuming upon the weakness of the person whom he addressed; but Ferdinand was not wanting in presence of mind on this occasion. “I esteem the Emperor highly,” he replied, “but I never will do any thing that may be injurious to my people and their welfare; and upon this point I now finally declare that nothing shall make me alter my determination. If the Emperor chooses that I should return to Spain, let him treat with the Regency, and when that is done, and I am assured of it, I will sign the treaty; but for this it will be necessary that a deputation should come here and inform me of every thing. Report this to the Emperor, and tell him, also, that this is what my conscience dictates to me.”