No matter what fields are desolated,
what fortresses surrendered, what armies subdued, or what provinces
overrun. In the history of the year that has passed by us, and in the
instance of unhappy Spain, we have seen the vanity of all triumphs in a
cause which violates the general sense of justice of the civilized
world. It is nothing that the troops of France have passed from the
Pyrenees to Cadiz; it is nothing that an unhappy and prostrate nation
has fallen before them; it is nothing that arrests, and confiscation,
and execution, sweep away the little remnant of national resistance.
There is an enemy that still exists to check the glory of these
triumphs. It follows the conqueror back to the very scene of his
ovations; it calls upon him to take notice that Europe, though silent,
is yet indignant; it shows him that the sceptre of his victory is a
barren sceptre; that it shall confer neither joy nor honor, but shall
moulder to dry ashes in his grasp. In the midst of his exultation, it
pierces his ear with the cry of injured justice; it denounces against
him the indignation of an enlightened and civilized age; it turns to
bitterness the cup of his rejoicing, and wounds him with the sting which
belongs to the consciousness of having outraged the opinion of mankind.
In my opinion, Sir, the Spanish nation is now nearer, not only in point
of time, but in point of circumstance, to the acquisition of a regulated
government, than at the moment of the French invasion.
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