only have resulted from that crouching and subservient policy
which the Gibraltar authorities have always judged it expedient to show
towards the Maroquines.

Our diplomatic intercourse began with Morocco in the reign of Queen
Elizabeth; and though on friendly terms more or less ever since,
Englishmen have not yet obtained a recognised permission to travel in
the interior of the country, without first specially applying to its
Government. Our own countrymen know little of Morocco, or of its
inhabitants, customs, laws, and government; and, though only five or six
days sail from England, it must be regarded as an unknown and unexplored
region to the mass of the English nation.

Nevertheless, in spite of the Maroquine Empire being the most
conservative and unchangeable of all North African Mussulman states, and
whilst, happily for itself, it has been allowed to pursue its course
obscurely and noiselessly, without exciting particular attention in
Europe, or being involved in the wars and commotions of European
nations, Morocco is not, therefore, beyond the reach of changes and the
ravages of time, nor exempt from that mutability which is impressed upon
all sublunary states. The bombardments of Tangier and Mogador have left
behind them traces not easily to be effaced. It was no ordinary event
for Morocco to carry on hostilities with an European power.

The battle of Isly has deeply wounded the Shereefians, and incited the
Mussulman heart to sullen and unquenchable revenge. A change has come
over the Maroquine mind, which, as to its immediate effects, is
evidently for the worst towards us Christians. The distrust of all
Europeans, which existed before the French hostilities, is now enlarged
to hatred, a feeling from which even the English are hardly excepted. Up
to the last moment, the government and people of Morocco believed that
England would never abandon them to their unscrupulous and ambitious
neighbours.

The citizens and merchants of Mogador could not be brought to believe,
or even to entertain the idea that the British ships of war would
quietly look on, whilst the French--the great rivals and enemies of the
English--destroyed their towns and batteries. Most manifest facts and
stern realities dissipated, in an hour when they little thought of it,
such a fond delusion. From that moment, the moral influence of England,
once our boast, and not perhaps unreasonably so, was no longer felt in
Morocco; and now we have l