ter mutual
recriminations Canning and Castlereagh resigned office and fought a
duel. Shortly afterwards the Premier, the Duke of Portland, fell ill
and resigned: his place was taken by Mr. Perceval, a man whose sole
recommendation for the post was his conscientious Toryism and powers
of dull plodding. Ruled by an ill-assorted Ministry and a King whose
reason was now hopelessly overclouded, weakened by the strangling grip
of the Continental System, England seemed on the verge of ruin; and,
encouraged alike by the factious conduct of our parliamentary
Opposition and by Soult's recent conquest of Andalusia, Napoleon bent
himself to the final grapple by extending his coast system, and by
sending Massena and his choicest troops into Spain to drive the
leopards into the sea.

The limits of our space prevent any description of the ensuing
campaign of Torres Vedras; and we must refer our readers to the ample
canvas of Napier if they would realize the sagacity of Wellington in
constructing to the north of Lisbon that mighty _tete de pont_ for the
Sea Power against Massena's veteran army. After dealing the staggering
blow of Busaco at that presumptuous Marshal, our great leader fell
back, through a tract which he swept bare of supplies, on this sure
bulwark, and there watched the French host of some 65,000 men waste
away amidst the miseries of hunger and the rains and diseases of
autumn. At length, in November, Massena drew off to positions near
Santarem, where he awaited the succour which Napoleon ordered Soult to
bring. It was in vain: Soult, puffed up by his triumphs in Andalusia,
was resolved to play his own game and reduce Badajoz; he won his point
but marred the campaign; and, at last, foiled by Wellington's skilful
tactics, Massena beat a retreat northwards out of Portugal after
losing some 35,000 men (March, 1811). Wellington's success bore an
immeasurable harvest of results. The unmanly whinings of the English
Opposition were stilled; the replies of the Czar to Napoleon's demands
grew firmer; and the patriots of the Peninsula stiffened their backs
in a resistance so stubborn, albeit unskilful, that 370,000 French
troops utterly failed to keep Wellington in check, and to stamp out
the national defence in the summer of 1811.

In truth, Napoleon had exasperated the Spaniards no less than their
_soi disant_ king, by a series of provocations extending over the year
1810. On the plea that Spain must herself meet the expenses