Internal condition of Spain—­Character of the people—­Influence of the Inquisition—­Population and Revenue—­Incomes of Church and Government—­Degradation of Labour—­Expulsion of the Moors and its consequences—­Venality the special characteristic of Spanish polity —­Maxims of the foreign polity of Spain—­The Spanish army and navy—­ Insolvent state of the Government—­The Duke of Lerma—­His position in the State—­Origin of his power—­System of bribery and trafficking—­Philip III.  His character—­Domestic life of the king and queen.

A glance at the interior condition of Spain, now that there had been more than nine years of a new reign, should no longer be deferred.  Spain was still superstitiously regarded as the leading power of the world, although foiled in all its fantastic and gigantic schemes.  It was still supposed, according to current dogma, to share with the Ottoman empire the dominion of the earth.  A series of fortunate marriages having united many of the richest and fairest portions of Europe under a single sceptre, it was popularly believed in a period when men were not much given as yet to examine very deeply the principles of human governments or the causes of national greatness, that an aggregation of powers which had resulted from preposterous laws of succession really constituted a mighty empire, founded by genius and valour.

The Spanish people, endowed with an acute and exuberant genius, which had exhibited itself in many paths of literature, science, and art; with a singular aptitude for military adventure, organization, and achievement; with a great variety, in short, of splendid and ennobling qualities; had been, for a long succession of years, accursed with almost the very worst political institutions known to history.  The depth of their misery and of their degradation was hardly yet known to themselves, and this was perhaps the most hideous proof of the tyranny of which they had been the victims.  To the outward world, the hollow fabric, out of which the whole pith and strength had been slowly gnawed away, was imposing and majestic still.  But the priest, the soldier, and the courtier had been busy too long, and had done their work too thoroughly, to leave much hope of arresting the universal decay.

Nor did there seem any probability that the attempt would be made.

It is always difficult to reform wide-spread abuses, even when they are acknowledged to exist, but when gigantic vices are proudly pointed to as the noblest of institutions and as the very foundations of the state, there seems nothing for the patriot to long for but the deluge.