What could her daughter then have done? Hardly have retained her throne, already slipping from under her—and her crown, whose brightness is so grievously dimmed by the humiliation her errors have brought upon her. It seems incredible that a sovereign should be found sufficiently wanting in pride to put pen to such a manifesto—I should rather say to such an apology—as was signed by Isabella II. on the 26th July last. Doubtless nothing less would do; but surely most princes—or they are meaner than the world believes them—would have preferred abdication to so humbling themselves. In that notable proclamation, she completely cried _peccavi_, promised better behaviour, and protested her entire adherence to Espartero’s political principles. Since he has been here, her conduct towards him has been such as to make it appear miraculous how she ever managed to do without him. She constantly requires his presence, and, notwithstanding the immense deal of business he has to attend to, he is obliged to go daily to the palace. Doubtless she has not yet quite recovered from the alarm of the revolution, and looks upon Espartero as her best safeguard. I will not attribute any covert or perfidious motive to a sovereign who has suffered severely for her errors, and has pledged herself to amendment. But it would be very desirable to separate her from her mother, whose intriguing spirit will never be at rest so long as there is life in her body, and a possibility of her working evil. She continues at the palace, instead of being sent away from Madrid, and guarded in some castle or royal residence. Of course, there are difficulties in the way of removing her, and it seems cruel to separate her from her daughter, from whom, perhaps, before long, she may be separated for ever. But the paramount consideration is the welfare of Spain; and, moreover, in reality, the links that bind the two ladies to each other are of a less tender nature than may be supposed, or would seem natural. Christina, it is well known, has never loved this daughter, whom she shamefully neglected, and, it may almost be said, wilfully corrupted, with a view to place upon her throne the Duchess of Montpensier. She has that influence over Isabella which long habit, and the ascendancy of a strong mind over a weak one, naturally give to her. And probably the Queen hangs more than ever upon her mother, now that her lover has been sent away, and her palace cleared of that crew of supple courtiers, ready for any base subserviency or corrupt complaisance, who have so long infested it. “It is absolutely necessary,” the venerable San Miguel is reported one day to have said to the Queen, “that the Señor de Arana should go on a mission to Ciudad Rodrigo. There he will be very near to Portugal, and may easily pass into that country.” This caused instant anxiety and alarm. “You answer to me for his life,” was the reply. “It runs not the slightest risk,” said the old general, and so the thing was arranged.