history, and the "heroes"--notably the Viceroys of Portuguese
India--were, in fact, a race of fine soldiers and administrators. No
nation, moreover, possesses more conspicuous and splendid memorials of
its golden age. It was literally "golden," for Emmanuel the Fortunate,
who reaped the harvest sown by Henry the Navigator, was the wealthiest
monarch in Europe, and gave his name to the "Emmanueline" style of
architecture, a florid Gothic which achieves miracles of ostentation
and sometimes of beauty. As the glorious pile of Batalha commemorates
the victory of Aljubarrota, so the splendid church and monastery of
Belem mark the spot where Vasco da Gama spent the night before he
sailed on his epoch-making voyage. But it was not gold that raised the
noblest memorial to Portugal's greatness: it was the genius of Luis de
Camoens. If Spenser, instead of losing himself in mazes of allegoric
romance, had sung of Crécy and Agincourt, of Drake, Frobisher, and
Raleigh, he might have given us a national epic in the same sense in
which the term applies to _The Lusiads_. With such a history, so
written in stone and song, what wonder if pride of race is one of the
mainsprings of Portuguese character!

But the House of Aviz, like the legitimate line of Affonso Henriques,
dwindled into debility. It flickered out in Dom Sebastian, who dragged
his country into a mad invasion of Morocco and vanished from human ken
on the disastrous battlefield of Alcazar-Khebir. Then, for sixty years,
not by conquest, but by intrigue, Portugal passed under the sway of
Spain, and lost to the enemies of Spain--that is to say, to England and
Holland--a large part of her colonial empire. At last, in 1640, a
well-planned and daring revolution expelled the Spanish intruders, and
placed on the throne John, Duke of Braganza. As the house of Aviz was
an illegitimate branch of the stock of Affonso Henriques, so the
Braganzas were an illegitimate branch of the House of Aviz, with none