This ignorance of political cause and effect is, alas! not alone confined to Mexico. There is enough of it in England, too, as in every other nation. But in the earlier days of the Mexican Republic, the baneful weed flourished with unusual vigour and rankness--to the benefit of Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, and the blight of his country. Deposed and banished so many times that their number is not easily remembered, he was ever brought back again--to the wonder of people then, and the puzzle of historians yet. The explanation, however, is simple enough. He reigned through corruption that he had himself been instrumental in creating; through militarism and an abominable _Chauvinism_--this last as effective an instrument as the oppressor can wield. _Divide et impera_ is a maxim of despotic state-craft, old as despotism itself; "flatter and rule" is a method equally sure, and such Santa Anna practised to its full. He let pass no opportunity of flattering the national vanity, which brought the Mexican nation to shame, with much humiliation--as the French at a later period, and as it must every people that aims at no higher standard of honour than what may be derived from self-adulation. At the time I am writing of, the chief of the Mexican Republic was aiming at "Imperium"--eagerly straining for it. Its substance he already had, the "Libertas" having been long since eliminated from his system of government, and trodden under foot. But the title he had not acquired yet. He yearned to wear the purple, and be styled "Imperador," and in order to prepare his subjects for the change, already kept a sort of Imperial court, surrounding it with grand ceremonials. As a matter of course, these partook of a military character, being himself not only political head of the State, but commander-in-chief of its armies. As a consequence, _Palacio_, his official residence was beset with soldier-guards, officers in gorgeous uniforms loitering about the gates, or going out and in, and in the Plaza Grande at all times exhibiting the spectacle of a veritable Champ de Mars. No one passing through the Mexican metropolis at this period would have supposed it the chief city of a Republic. On that same day in which Carlos Santander had shown himself at the Acordada, only at an early hour, the would-be Emperor was seated in his apartment of the palace in which he was wont to give audience to ordinary visitors. He had got through the business affairs of the morning, dismissed his Ministers, and was alone, when one of the aides-de-camp in attendance entered with a card, and respectfully saluting him, laid it on the table before him. "Yes; say I can see him. Tell him to come in," he directed, soon as reading the name on the card. In the door, on its second opening, appeared Carlos Santander, in the uniform of a colonel of Hussars, gold bedizened, and laced from collar to cuffs.