slight influence over her policy; but flattered by the title of
Gonfaloniera of the Vicar of Jesus, and eager to prove herself not
unworthy of the same, she shut her eyes and rushed upon her own
destruction with the cry of "Charge, Spain."

But the arms of Spain became powerless abroad, and she retired
within herself. She ceased to be the tool of the vengeance and
cruelty of Rome. She was not cast aside, however. No! though she
could no longer wield the sword with success against the Lutherans,
she might still be turned to some account. She had still gold and
silver, and she was still the land of the vine and olive. Ceasing
to be the butcher, she became the banker of Rome; and the poor
Spaniards, who always esteem it a privilege to pay another person's
reckoning, were for a long time happy in being permitted to
minister to the grasping cupidity of Rome, who during the last
century, probably extracted from Spain more treasure than from all
the rest of Christendom.

But wars came into the land. Napoleon and his fierce Franks
invaded Spain; plunder and devastation ensued, the effects of which
will probably be felt for ages. Spain could no longer pay pence to
Peter so freely as of yore, and from that period she became
contemptible in the eyes of Rome, who has no respect for a nation,
save so far as it can minister to her cruelty or avarice. The
Spaniard was still willing to pay, as far as his means would allow,
but he was soon given to understand that he was a degraded being,--
a barbarian; nay, a beggar. Now, you may draw the last cuarto from
a Spaniard, provided you will concede to him the title of cavalier,
and rich man, for the old leaven still works as powerfully as in
the time of the first Philip; but you must never hint that he is