THE EFFECTS WHICH THE INTRODUCTION OF PROTESTANTISM INTO SPAIN WOULD
HAVE PRODUCED.
In order to judge of the real effect which the introduction of
Protestant doctrines would have had in Spain, we shall do well, in
the first place, to take a survey of the present state of religion
in Europe. In spite of the confusion of ideas which is one of the
prevailing characteristics of the age, it is undeniable that the spirit
of infidelity and irreligion has lost much of its strength, and that
where it still exists it has merged into indifference, instead of
preserving its systematic form of the last century. With the lapse
of time declamation ceases; men grow tired of continually repeating
the same insulting language; their minds resist the intolerance and
bad faith of sects; systems betray their emptiness, opinions their
erroneousness, judgments their precipitation, and reasonings their want
of exactitude. Time shows their counterfeit intentions, their deceptive
statements, the littleness of their ideas, and the mischievousness of
their projects; truth begins to recover its empire, things regain their
real names, and, thanks to the new direction of the public mind, that
which before was considered innocent and generous is now looked upon
as criminal and vile. The deceitful masks are taken off, and falsehood
is discovered surrounded by the discredit which ought always to have
accompanied it.
Irreligious ideas, like all those which are prevalent in an advanced
state of society, would not, and could not be confined to mere
speculation; they invaded the domain of practice, and labored to gain
the upper hand in all branches of administration and politics. But the
revolution which they produced in society became fatal to themselves;
for there is nothing which better exposes the faults and errors of
a system, and undeceives men on the subject, than the touchstone
of experience. There is in our minds a certain power of viewing
an object under a variety of aspects, and an unfortunate aptitude
for supporting the most extravagant proposition by a multitude of
sophisms. In mere disputation, it is difficult for the most reasoning
minds to keep clear of the snares of sophistry. But when we come to
experience, it is otherwise; the mind is silent, and facts speak; and
if the experience has been on a large scale, and applied to objects of
great interest and importance, it is difficult for the most specious
arguments to counteract the convincing eloquence of the result. Hence
it is that a man of much experience obtains an instinct so sure and
delicate, that when a system is but explained he can point out all its
inconveniences. Inexperience, presumptuous and prejudiced, appeals to
argument in support of its doctrines; but good sense, that precious and
inestimable quality, shakes its head, shrugs its shoulders, and with a
tranquil smile leaves its prediction to be tested by time.
It is not necessary now to insist on the practical results of those
doctrines of which infidelity was the motto; we have said enough on
that subject. Suffice it to say, that those same men who seem to belong
to the last century by their principles, interests, recollections, or
for other reasons, have been obliged to modify their doctrines, to
limit their principles, to palliate their propositions, to cool the
warmth and passion of their invectives; and when they wish to give a
mark of their esteem and veneration for those writers who were the
delight of their youth, they are compelled to declare "that those men
were great philosophers, but philosophers of the cabinet;" as if in
reality what they call the knowledge of the cabinet was not the most
dangerous ignorance.
It is certain that these attempts have had the effect of throwing
discredit on irreligion as a system. If people do not regard it with
horror, at least they look upon it with mistrust. Irreligion has
labored in all the branches of science, in the vain hope that the
heavens would cease to relate the glories of God, that the earth would
disown Him who laid its foundations, and that all nature would give
testimony against the Lord who gave it existence and life. These same
labors have banished the scandalous division which had begun between
religion and science; so that the ancient accents of the man of Hus
have again resounded, without dishonor to science, in the mouths of
men in the nineteenth century; and what shall we say of the triumphs
of religion in all that is noble, tender, and sublime on earth? How
grand are the operations of Providence displayed therein! Admirable
dispensation! The mysterious hand which governs the universe seems to
hold in reserve for every great crisis of society an extraordinary
man. At the proper moment this man presents himself; he advances,
himself ignorant whither he is going, but he advances with a firm step
towards the accomplishment of the high mission for which Providence has
destined him.
Atheism was bathing France in a sea of tears and blood; an unknown man
silently traverses the ocean. While the violence of the tempest rends
the sails of his vessel, he listens attentively to the hurricane--he
is lost in the contemplation of the majesty of the heavens. Wandering
in the solitudes of America, he asks of the wonders of creation the
name of their Author; the thunder on the confines of the desert, the
low murmuring of the forests, and the beauties of nature answer him
with canticles of love and harmony. The view of a solitary cross
reveals to him mysterious secrets; the traces of an unknown missionary
awaken important recollections which connect the new world with the
old; a monument in ruins, the hut of a savage, excite in his mind
thoughts which penetrate to the foundations of society and to the
heart of man. Intoxicated with these spectacles, his mind full of
sublime conceptions, and his heart inundated with the charms of so
much beauty, this man returns to his native soil. What does he find
there? The bloody traces of Atheism; the ruins and ashes of ancient
temples devoured by the flames or destroyed by violence; the remains of
a multitude of innocent victims, buried in the graves which formerly
afforded an asylum to persecuted Christians. He observes, however, that
something is in agitation; he sees that religion is about to redescend
upon France, like consolation upon the unfortunate, or the breath of
life upon a corpse. From that moment he hears on all sides a concert of
celestial harmony; the inspirations of meditation and solitude revive
and ferment in his great soul; transported out of himself, and ravished
into ecstasy, he sings with a tongue of fire the glories of religion,
he reveals the delicacy and beauty of the relations between religion
and nature, and in surpassing language he points out to astonished men
the mysterious golden chain which connects the heavens and the earth.
That man was Chateaubriand.
It must, however, be confessed, that the confusion which has been
introduced into ideas cannot be corrected in a short time, and that it
is not easy to eradicate the deep traces of the ravages of irreligion.
Men's minds, it is true, are tired of the irreligious system; society,
which had lost its balance, is generally ill at ease; the family feels
its ties relaxed, and individuals sigh after a ray of light, a drop
of hope and consolation. But where shall the world find the remedy
which is wanting? Will it follow the best road--the only road? Will
it re-enter the fold of the Catholic Church? Alas! God alone knows
the secrets of the future; He alone has clearly unfolded before His
eyes the great events which are no doubt awaiting humanity. He alone
knows what will be the result of that activity, of that energy, which
again urges men to the examination of great political and religious
questions; and He alone knows what, to future generations, will be
the result of the triumphs obtained by religion, in the fine arts, in
literature, in science, in politics, in all the operations carried on
by the human mind.
As to us, carried away as we are by the rapid and precipitate course
of revolution, hardly have we time to cast a fleeting glance upon
the chaos in which our country is involved. What can we confidently
predict? All that we can be sure of is, that we are in an age of
disquietude, of agitation, of transition; that the multiplied examples
and warnings of so many disappointed expectations, the fruits of
fearful revolutions and unheard-of catastrophes, have everywhere thrown
discredit upon irreligious and disorganizing doctrines, without having
established the legitimate empire of true religion. Hearts sick of so
many misfortunes are willingly open to hope; but minds are in a state
of great uncertainty as to the future: perhaps they even anticipate
a new series of calamities. Owing to revolutions, to the efforts of
industry, to the activity and extension of commerce, to the progress
and prodigious diffusion of printing, to scientific discoveries, to the
ease, rapidity, and universality of communication, to the taste for
travelling, to the dissolving action of Protestantism, of incredulity,
and skepticism, the human mind certainly now presents one of the most
singular phases of its history. Reason, imagination, and the heart are
in a state of agitation, of movement, and of extraordinary development,
and show us at the same time the most singular contrasts, the most
ridiculous extravagances, and the most absurd contradictions. Observe
the sciences, and you will no longer find those lengthened labors,
that indefatigable patience, that calm and tranquil progress, which
characterized these studies at other epochs; but you will find there
a spirit of observation, and a tendency to place questions in that
transcendental point of view where may be discovered the relations
subsisting between them, the ties by which they are connected, and
the way in which they throw light upon each other. Questions of
religion, of politics, of legislation, of morals, of government, are
all mingled, stand prominently forward, and give to the horizon of
science a grandeur and immensity which it did not previously possess.
This progress, this confusion, this chaos, if you like to call it so,
is a fact which must be taken into account in studying the spirit of
the age, in examining the religious condition of the time; for it is
not the work of a single man, or the effect of accident; it is the
result of a multitude of causes, the fruit of a great number of facts;
it is an expression of the present state of intelligence; a symptom
of strength and disease, an announcement of change and of transition,
perhaps a sign of consolation, perhaps a presage of misfortune. And
who has not observed the fertility of imagination and unbounded reach
of thought in that literature, so various, so irregular, and so vague,
but at the same time so rich in fine images, in delicate feeling, and
in bold and generous thought? You may talk as much as you please of the
debasement of science, of the falling off in study. You may speak in
a tone of derision of the _lights of the age_, and turn with regret to
ages more studious and more learned; there will be some exaggeration,
truth and error, in all this, as there always is in declamation of
this kind; but whatever may be the degree of utility belonging to the
present labors of the human mind, never, perhaps, was there a time
when it displayed more activity and energy, never was it agitated by
a movement so general, so lively, so various, and never, perhaps, did
it desire, with a more excusable curiosity and impatience, to raise
a part of the veil which covers the boundless future. What will be
able to govern elements so powerful and so opposite? What can calm
this tempestuous sea? What will give the union, the connection, the
consistency necessary to form, out of these repulsive and discordant
elements, a whole compact and capable of resisting the action of time?
Will this be done by Protestantism, with its fundamental principle
which establishes and diffuses and sanctions the dissolving principle
of private interpretation in matters of religion, and realizes this
unhappy notion by circulating among all classes of society copies of
the Bible?
Nations numerous, proud of their power, vain of their knowledge,
rendered dissipated by pleasure, refined by luxury, continually exposed
to the powerful influence of the press, and possessing means of
communication which would have appeared fabulous to their ancestors;
nations in whom all the violent passions have an object, all intrigues
an existence, all corruptions a veil, all crimes a title, all errors an
advocate, all interests a support; nations which, warned and deceived,
still vacillate in a state of dreadful uncertainty between truth and
falsehood; sometimes looking at the torch of truth as if they meant to
be guided by its light, and then again seduced by an _ignis fatuus_;
sometimes making an effort to rule the storm, and then abandoning
themselves to its violence; modern nations show us a picture as
extraordinary as it is interesting, where hopes, fears, prognostics,
and conjectures have free scope, and nobody can pretend to predict with
accuracy, and the wise man must await in silence the dénouement marked
out in the secret decrees of God, where alone are clearly written the
events of all time, and the future destinies of men.
But it may be easily understood that Protestantism, on account of its
essentially dissolving nature, is incapable of producing any thing in
morals or religion to increase the happiness of nations, for it is
impossible for this happiness to exist as long as men's minds are at
war on the most important questions which can occupy them.
When the observer, amid this chaos and obscurity, seeks for a ray of
light to illuminate the world--for a powerful principle capable of
putting an end to so much confusion and anarchy, and of bringing back
men's minds to the path of truth, Catholicity immediately presents
herself to him, as the only source of all these benefits. When we
consider with what _éclat_ and with what power Catholicity maintains
herself against all the unprecedented attempts which are made to
destroy her, our hearts are filled with hope and consolation; and we
feel inclined to hail this divine religion, and to congratulate her on
the new triumph which she is about to achieve on earth.
There was a time when Europe, inundated by a torrent of barbarians,
saw at once overwhelmed all the monuments of ancient civilization
and refinement. Legislators and their laws, the empire and its power
and splendor, philosophers and the sciences, the arts and their
_chef-d'œuvres_, all disappeared; and those immense regions, where
had flourished all the civilization and refinement that had been
gained during so many ages, were suddenly plunged into ignorance and
barbarism. Nevertheless, the spark of light which had appeared to the
world in Palestine, continued to shine amid the chaos: in vain did
whirlwinds threaten to extinguish it; kept alive by the breath of the
Eternal, it continued to shine. Ages rolled away, and it appeared with
greater brilliancy; and when, perchance, the nations only expected a
beam of light to guide them in the darkness, they found a resplendent
sun, everywhere diffusing life and light: and who shall say that there
is not reserved for her in the secrets of the Eternal, another triumph
more difficult, but not less useful, not less brilliant? If in other
times that religion instructed ignorance, civilized barbarism, polished
rudeness, softened ferocity, and preserved society from being always
the prey of the fiercest brutality and the most degrading stupidity,
will it be less glorious for her to correct ideas, to harmonize and
refine feelings, to establish the eternal principles of society, to
curb the passions, to remove animosities, to remove excesses, to
govern all minds and hearts? How honorable will it be to her, if,
while regulating all things, and unceasingly stimulating all kinds
of knowledge and improvement, she can inspire with a proper spirit
of moderation that society which so many elements, devoid of central
attraction, threaten every moment with dissolution and death!
It is not given to man to penetrate the future; but in the same way as
the physical world would be broken up by a terrible catastrophe, if it
were deprived for a moment of the fundamental principle which gives
unity, order, and concert to the various movements of the system; in
the same way, if society, full as it is of motion, of communication,
and life, were not placed under the direction of a constant and
universal regulating principle, we could not fix our eyes on the lot of
future generations without the greatest alarm.
There is, however, a fact which is consoling in the highest degree,
viz. the wonderful progress which Catholicity has made in different
countries. It is gaining strength in France and Belgium: the obstinacy
with which it is combated in the north of Europe shows how much it
is feared. In England its progress has been recently so great that
it would not be credited without the most irresistible evidence; and
in the foreign missions it has shown an extent of enterprise and
fruitfulness, worthy of the time of its greatest ascendency and power.
When other nations tend towards unity, shall we commit the gross
mistake of adopting schism? at a time when other nations would be happy
to find within their bosoms a vital principle capable of restoring the
power which incredulity has destroyed, shall Spain, which preserves
Catholicity, and alone possesses it full and complete, allow the germ
of death to be introduced into her bosom, thereby rendering impossible
the cure of her evils, or rather entailing on herself complete and
certain ruin? Amid the moral regeneration towards which nations are
advancing, seeking to quit the painful position in which they have
been placed by irreligious doctrines, is it possible to overlook the
immense advantage which Spain still preserves over most of them? Spain
is one of those least affected by the gangrene of irreligion; she still
preserves religious unity, that inestimable inheritance of a long
line of ages. Is it possible to overlook the advantage of that unity
if properly made use of, that unity which is mixed up with all our
glories, which awakens such noble recollections, and which may be made
so wonderful an instrument in the regeneration of social order?
If I am asked my opinion of the nearness of the danger, and if I think
the present attempts of Protestants have any probability of success,
I must draw a distinction in my reply. Protestantism is extremely
weak, both on account of its own nature, and of its age and decaying
condition. In endeavoring to introduce itself into Spain, it will
have to contend with an adversary full of life and strength, and
deeply rooted in the soil. This is the reason why I think that its
direct action is not to be feared; and yet, if it should succeed in
establishing itself in any part of our country, however limited may
be its domain, it is sure to produce fearful results. It is evident
that we shall then have in the midst of us a new apple of discord, and
it is not difficult to foresee that collisions will frequently arise.
Protestantism in Spain, besides its intrinsic weakness, will labor
under the disadvantage of not finding its natural aliment. Hence it
will be obliged to take advantage of any support that is offered; it
will immediately become the point of reunion for the discontented; and
although failing in its intended object, it will succeed in becoming
the nucleus of new parties and the banner of factions. Scandal, strife,
demoralization, troubles, and perhaps catastrophes,--such will be the
immediate and infallible results of the introduction of Protestantism
among us. On this point I appeal to the candid opinion of every man who
is well acquainted with Spain. But this is not all: the question is
enlarged, and acquires an incalculable importance, if we consider it
with reference to foreign politics. What a lever will be afforded to
foreigners for all kinds of attempts in our unhappy country! How gladly
will those, who are perhaps on the look-out for such an aid, avail
themselves of it!
There is in Europe a nation remarkable for her immense power, and
worthy of respect on account of the great progress which she has made
in the arts and sciences; a nation that holds in her hands powerful
means of action in all parts of the world, and knows how to use them
with wonderful discretion and sagacity. As that nation has taken the
lead in modern times in passing through all the phases of political and
religious revolution, and has seen, during fearful convulsions, the
passions in all their nakedness, and crime in all its forms, she is
better acquainted than all others with their causes.
Not misled by the vain names under which, at such periods, the lowest
passions and the most sordid interests disguise themselves, she is too
much on her guard to allow the troubles which have inundated other
countries with tears and blood, to be easily excited within herself.
Her internal peace is not disturbed by the agitation and heat of
disputes; although she may expect to have to encounter, sooner or
later, difficulties and embarrassments, she enjoys, in the mean time,
the tranquillity which is secured to her by her constitution, her
manners, her riches,--and, above all, by the ocean which surrounds
her. Placed in so advantageous a position, that nation watches the
progress of others, for the purpose of attaching them to her car by
golden chains, if they are simple enough to listen to her flattery; at
least she attempts to hinder their advance, when a noble independence
is about to free them from her influence. Always attentive to her own
aggrandizement, by means of commerce and the arts, and by a policy
eminently mercantile, she hides her self-interest under all sorts of
disguises; and although religion and politics, where she has to do
with another people, are quite indifferent to her, she knows how to
make an adroit use of these powerful arms, to make friends, to defeat
her enemies, and to enclose all within the net of commerce, which she
is always extending in all quarters of the world. Her sagacity must
necessarily have perceived how much progress she will have made in
adding Spain to the number of her colonies, when she has persuaded
the Spanish people to fraternize with her in religion; not so much on
account of the sympathy which such a fraternization would establish
between them, as because she would find therein a sure method of
stripping the Spanish people of that peculiar character and grave
appearance which distinguishes them from all others, by depriving
them of the only national and regenerative idea which remains to them
after so many convulsions; from that moment, in truth, Spain, that
proud nation, would be rendered accessible to all kinds of foreign
impressions, docile and pliable in bending to all opinions, and subject
to the interests of her astute protectors. Let it not be forgotten
that there is no other nation that conceives her plans with so much
foresight, prepares them with so much prudence, executes them with so
much ability and perseverance. As she has remained since her great
revolutions, that is, since the end of the seventeenth century, in a
settled condition, and entirely free from the convulsions undergone
since that time by other European nations, she has been able to follow
a regular political system, both internal and external; and her
politicians have been formed to the perfect science of government, by
constantly inheriting the experience and views of their predecessors.
Her statesmen well know how important it is to be prepared beforehand
for every event. They deeply study what may aid or impede them in
other nations. They go out of the sphere of politics: they penetrate
to the heart of every nation over which they propose to extend their
influence: they examine what are the conditions of its existence; what
is its vital principle; what are the causes of the strength and energy
of every people.
During the autumn of 1805, Pitt gave a dinner in the country to some
of his friends. While thus engaged, a despatch was brought to him
announcing the surrender of Mack at Ulm, with 40,000 men, and the march
of Napoleon on Vienna. Pitt communicated the fatal news to his friends,
who cried out, "All is lost; there is no longer any resource against
him." "There is one still left," replied the minister, "if I can excite
a national war in Europe; and that war must begin in Spain." "Yes,
gentlemen," he added, "Spain will be the first country to commence
the patriotic war which shall give liberty to Europe." Such was the
importance attributed by this profound statesman to a national idea;
he expected from it what the strength of all the governments could not
effect, the downfall of Napoleon, and the liberation of Europe. But it
not uncommonly happens that the march of events is such, that these
same national ideas, which one time were the powerful auxiliaries of
ambitious cabinets, become, at another, the greatest obstacles; and
then, instead of encouraging, it becomes their interest to extinguish
them. As the nature of this work will not allow me to enter into the
details of politics, I must content myself with appealing to the
judgment of those who have observed the line of conduct pursued by
England during our war and revolution, since the death of Ferdinand
VII. If we consider what the interests of that powerful nation require
for the future, we may conjecture the part which she will take.
The means of saving a nation, by delivering it from interested
protectors, and of securing her real independence, are to be found in
great and generous ideas, deeply rooted in the people; in feelings
engraved on their hearts by the action of time, by the influence of
powerful institutions, by ancient manners and customs; in fine, in that
unity of religious thought, which makes a whole people as one man. Then
the past is united with the present, the present is connected with the
future; then arises in the mind that enthusiasm which is the source of
great deeds; then are found disinterestedness, energy, and constancy;
because ideas are fixed and elevated, because hearts are great and
generous.
It is not impossible that during one of the convulsions which disturb
our unhappy country, men may arise amongst us blind enough to attempt
to introduce the Protestant religion into Spain. We have had warnings
enough to alarm us; we have not forgotten events which showed plainly
enough how far some would sometimes have gone, if the great majority
of the nation had not restrained them by their disapprobation. We
do not dread the outrages of the reign of Henry VIII.; but what we
do fear is, that advantage may be taken of a violent rupture with
the Holy See, of the obstinacy and ambition of some ecclesiastics,
of the pretext of establishing toleration in our country, or some
other pretext, to attempt to introduce amongst us, in some shape or
other, the doctrines of Protestantism. We certainly have no need of
importing toleration from abroad; it already exists amongst us so
fully, that no one is afraid of being disturbed on account of his
religious opinions. What would be thus introduced and established in
Spain, would be a new system of religion, provided with every thing
necessary for gaining the upper hand; and for weakening, and, if
possible, destroying Catholicity. Then would resound in our ears, with
a force constantly increasing, the fierce declamation which we have
heard for several years; the vain threatenings of a party who are
delirious, because they are on the point of expiring. The aversion with
which the nation regards the pretended Reformation, we have no doubt,
would be looked upon as rebellion; the pastorals of bishops would be
treated as insidious persuasions, and the fervent zeal of our priests
as sedition; the unanimity of Catholics to preserve themselves from
contagion would be denounced as a diabolical conspiracy, devised by
intolerance and party spirit, and executed by ignorance and fanaticism.
Amid the efforts of the one party, and the resistance of the other,
we should see enacted, in a greater or less degree, the scenes of
times gone by; and although the spirit of moderation, which is one of
the characteristics of this age, would not allow the perpetration of
excesses which have stained the annals of other nations, they would
not be without imitators. We must not forget that, with respect to
religion in Spain, we cannot calculate on the coldness and indifference
which other nations would now display on a similar occasion. With the
latter, religious feelings have lost much of their force, but in Spain
they are still deep, lively, and energetic; and if they were to come
into open and avowed opposition to each other, the shock would be
violent and general. Although we have witnessed lamentable scandals,
and even fearful catastrophes in religious matters, yet, up to this
time, perverse intentions have been always concealed by a mask, more
or less transparent. Sometimes the attack was made against a person
charged with political machinations; sometimes against certain classes
of citizens, who were accused of imaginary crimes. If, at times, the
revolution exceeded its bounds, it was said that it was impossible to
restrain it, and thus the vexations, the insults, the outrages heaped
upon all that was most sacred upon earth, were only the inevitable
results, and the work of a mob that nothing could restrain. There
has always been more or less of disguise; but if the dogmas of
Catholicity were attacked deliberately, and with _sang froid_; if
the most important points of discipline were trodden under foot; if
the most august mysteries were turned into ridicule, and the most
holy ceremonies treated with public contempt; if church were raised
against church, and pulpit against pulpit, what would be the result?
It is certain that minds would be very much exasperated; and if, as
might be feared, alarming explosions did not ensue, at least religious
controversy would assume a character so violent that we should believe
ourselves transferred to the sixteenth century.
It is a common thing among us for the principles which prevail in
politics to be entirely opposed to those which rule in society; it may
then easily happen that a religious principle, rejected by society,
may find support among influential statesmen. We should then see
reproduced, under more important circumstances, a phenomenon which
we have witnessed for so many years, viz. governments attempting to
alter the course of society by force. This is one of the principal
differences between our revolution and those of other countries; it
is, at the same time, a key which explains the greatest anomalies.
Everywhere else revolutionary ideas took possession of society, and
afterwards extended themselves to the sphere of politics; with us they
first ruled in the political sphere, and afterwards strove to descend
into the social sphere; society was far from being prepared for such
innovations; this was the cause of shocks so violent and so frequent.
It is on account of this want of harmony that the government of Spain
exercises so little influence over the people; I mean by influence,
that moral ascendency which does not require to be accompanied by
the idea of force. There is no doubt that this is an evil, since it
tends to weaken that authority which is indispensably necessary for
all societies. But on more than one occasion it has been a great
benefit. It is no slight advantage that in presence of a senseless and
inconstant government there is found a society full of calmness and
wisdom, and that that society pursues its quiet and majestic march,
while the government is carried away by rashness. We may expect much
from the right instinct of the Spanish nation, from her proverbial
gravity, which so many misfortunes have only augmented, and from
that fact, which teaches her so well how to discern the true path to
happiness, by rendering her deaf to the insidious suggestions of those
who seek to lead her astray. Although for so many years, owing to a
fatal combination of circumstances, and a want of harmony between
the social and political order, Spain has not been able to obtain a
government which understands her feelings and instincts, follows her
inclinations, and promotes her prosperity, we still cherish the hope
that the day will come when from her own bosom, so fertile in future
life, will come forth the harmony which she seeks, and the equilibrium
which she has lost. In the mean time, it is of the highest importance
that all men who have a Spanish heart in their breasts, and who do
not wish to see the vitals of their country torn to pieces, should
unite and act in concert to preserve her from the genius of evil.
Their unanimity will prevent the seeds of perpetual discord from being
scattered upon our soil, will ward off this additional calamity, and
will preserve from destruction those precious germs, whence may arise,
with renovated vigor, our civilization, which has been so much injured
by disastrous events.
The soul is overwhelmed with painful apprehensions at the thought
that a day may come when religious unity will be banished from among
us; that unity which is identified with our habits, our customs, our
manners, our laws; which guarded the cradle of our monarchy in the
cavern of Covadonga, and which was the emblem on our standard during
a struggle of eight centuries against the formidable crescent; that
unity which developed and illustrated our civilization in times of the
greatest difficulty; that unity which followed our terrible _tercios_,
when they imposed silence upon Europe; which led our sailors when they
discovered the new world, and guided them when they for the first time
made the circuit of the globe; that unity which sustains our soldiers
in their most heroic exploits, and which, at a recent period, gave the
climax to their many glorious deeds in the downfall of Napoleon. You
who condemn so rashly the work of ages; you who offer so many insults
to the Spanish nation, and who treat as barbarism and ignorance the
regulating principle of our civilization, do you know what it is you
insult? Do you know what inspired the genius of Gonzalva, of Ferdinando
Cortez, of the conqueror of Lepanto? Do not the shades of Garcilazo,
of Herrara, of Ercilla, of Fray Luis de Leon, of Cervantes, of Lope de
Vega, inspire you with any respect? Can you venture to break the tie
which connects us with them, to make us the unworthy posterity of these
great men? Do you wish to place an impassable barrier between their
faith and ours, between their manners and ours, to make us destroy all
our traditions, and to forget our most inspiring recollections? Do you
wish to preserve the great and august monuments of our ancestors' piety
among us only as a severe and eloquent reproach? Will you consent to
see dried up the most abundant fountains to which we can have recourse
to revive literature, to strengthen science, to reorganize legislation,
to re-establish the spirit of nationality, to restore our glory, and
replace this nation in the high position which her virtues merit, by
restoring to her the peace and happiness which she seeks with so much
anxiety, and which her heart requires?