I will only remark, in conclusion of this too prolix discussion about
myself, that while making my tortoise-like progress, I saw what I had
fondly looked upon as my own ground, (having indeed lain unmolested by any
other invader for so many ages,) suddenly entered, and in part occupied,
by one of my countrymen. I allude to Mr. Irving's "History of Columbus,"
and "Chronicle of Granada;" the subjects of which, although covering but a
small part of my whole plan, form certainly two of its most brilliant
portions. Now, alas! if not devoid of interest, they are, at least,
stripped of the charm of novelty. For what eye has not been attracted to
the spot on which the light of that writer's genius has fallen?

I cannot quit the subject which has so long occupied me, without one
glance at the present unhappy condition of Spain; who, shorn of her
ancient splendor, humbled by the loss of empire abroad, and credit at
home, is abandoned to all the evils of anarchy. Yet, deplorable as this
condition is, it is not so bad as the lethargy in which she has been sunk
for ages. Better be hurried forward for a season on the wings of the
tempest, than stagnate in a deathlike calm, fatal alike to intellectual
and moral progress. The crisis of a revolution, when old things are
passing away, and new ones are not yet established, is, indeed, fearful.
Even the immediate consequences of its achievement are scarcely less so to
a people who have yet to learn by experiment the precise form of
institutions best suited to their wants, and to accommodate their
character to these institutions. Such results must come with time,
however, if the nation be but true to itself. And that they will come,
sooner or later, to the Spaniards, surely no one can distrust who is at
all conversant with their earlier history, and has witnessed the examples
it affords of heroic virtue, devoted patriotism, and generous love of
freedom;