lities that cease neither night nor day,
of campaigns that know no distinction between summer and winter--a war in
which no pitched battles will be fought, but in which every wall will be a
rampart, every hollow of the hills a camp, every mountain a citadel, every
roadside, and swamp, and rivulet, the place of an ambuscade. We shall have
no battalions and brigades, we require no tactics; our sole science will
be, to kill the enemy wherever he can be reached by bullet or knife, until
we make Spain the tomb of invasion, and her very name an omen, and a ruin
to the tyrant on the French throne."

The councils of England in the crisis were worthy of her ancient name. It
was resolved to forget the long injuries of which Spain had been the
instrument, during her passive submission to the arrogance of her ally and
master. The Bourbons were now gone; the nation was disencumbered of that
government of chamberlains, maids of honour, and duennas. It was to be no
longer stifled in the perfumed atmosphere of court boudoirs, or to be
chilled in the damps of the cloister. Its natural and noble proportions
were to be left unfettered and undisguised by the formal fashions of past
centuries of grave frivolity and decorous degradation. The giant was to
rise refreshed. The Samson was to resume his primal purpose; he was no
longer to sleep in the lap of his Delilah; the national fame was before
him, and, breaking his manacles at one bold effort, he was thenceforth to
stand, as nature had moulded him, powerful and prominent among mankind.

These were dreams, but they were high-toned and healthy dreams--the
anticipations of a great country accustomed to the possession of freedom,
and expecting to plant national regeneration wherever it set foot upon the
soil. The cause of Spain was universally adopted by the people and was
welcomed by Parliament with acclamation; the appointment of a minister to
represent the cabinet in Spain was decided on, and this distinguished
commission was pressed upon my personal sense of duty by the sovereign. My
official rank placed me above ambassadorships, but a service of this order
had a superior purpose. It was a mission of the country, not of the
minister. I was to be the instrument of an imperial declaration of
good-will, interest, and alliance to a whole people.

In another week, the frigate which conveyed me was flying before the
breeze, along the iron-bound shore of Galicia; the brightest and most
burning o