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hats curiously wrought of green feathers, held trumpets of a fine black wood, ingeniously carved; and there were six others, in large hats and white feathers, who appeared to be guests to the cacique. This gallant utile armada having arrived alongside of the admiral's ship, the cacique entered on board with all his train. He appeared in his full regalia. Around his head was a band of small stones of various colours, but principally green, symmetrically arranged, with large white stones at intervals, and connected in front by a large jewel of gold. Two plates of gold were suspended to his ears by lings of small green stones. Tu a necklace of while beads, of a kind deemed precious by them, was suspended a large plate, in the form of a fleur-delys, of guanin, an inferior species of gold; and a girdle of variegated stones, similar to those round his head, completed his regal decorations. His wife was adorned in a similar manner, having also a very small apron of cotton, and bands of the same round her arms and legs. The daughters were without ornaments, excepting the eldest and handsomest, who had a girdle of small stones, from which was suspended a tablet, the size of an ivy leaf, composed of various-coloured stones, embroided on net-work of cotton.

"When the cacique entered on board the ship, he distributed presents of the productions of his island among the officers and men. The admiral was at this time in his cabin, engaged in his morning devotions. When he appeared on deck, the chieftain hastened to meet him with an animated countenance. 'My friend,' said he, 'I have determined to leave my country, and to accompany thee. I have heard from these Indians who are with thee, of the irresistible power of thy sovereigns, and of the many nations thou hast subdued in their name. Whoever refuses obedience to thee is sure to suffer. Thou hast destroyed the canoes and dwellings of the Caribe, slaying their warriors, and carrying into captivity their wives and children. All the islands are in dread of thee; for who can withstand thee now, that thou knowest the secrets of the land, and the weakness of the people t Rather, therefore, than thou shouldst take away my dominions, I will embark with all my household in thy ships, and will go to do homage to thy king and queen, and to behold their marvellous country, of which the Indians reíale such wonders.' When this speech was explained to Columbus, and he beheld the wife, the sons and daughters of the cacique, and thought upon the snares to which their ignorance and simplicity would be exposed, he was touched with compassion, and determined not lo take them from their native land. He replied to the cacique, therefore, that he received him under hie protection as a vassal of hie sovereigns; but having many lands yet to visit before he returned to his country, he would at some future time fulfil his desire. Then, taking leave with many expressions of amity, the cacique, with his wife and daughters, and all hie retinue, re-embarked in the canoes, returning reluctantly to their island, and the ships continued on their course."

But we must tarn from these bright legends; and hurry onward to the end of our extracts. It is impossible to give any abstract of the rapid succession of plots, tumults, and desertions, which blighted the infancy of this great settlement; or of the disgraceful calumnies, jealousies, and intrigues, which gradually undermined the credit of Columbus with his sovereign, and ended at last in the mission of Bobadilla, with power to supersede him in command—and in the incredible catastrophe of his being sent home in chains by this arrogant and precipitate adventurer! When he arrived on board the caravel which was to "arry him to Spain, the master treated him

with the most profound respect, and offeree instantly to release him from his fetters.

"But lo this he would not consent. 'No,' raid he proudly, 'their majesties commanded me b» letter lo submit lo whatever Bodadilla should order in their name; by iheir authority he has put upon me these chains—1 will wear them until they É¡;¿ i order them to be taken off, and I will preserve 'ht n afterwards as relics aud memorials of the renarii of my services.'"

"' He did so,' adds his son Fernando; 'I nw them always hanging in his cabinet, aud he re* quested thai when he died they might be boned with him !'"

If there is something in this memorable brutality which stirs the blood with iuteuse indignation, there is something soothing ai«! still more touching in the instant retribution.

"The arrival," says Mr. Irving, " of Columbus at Cadiz, a prisoner and in chains, produced almost as great a sensation as his triumphant return from his first voyage. It was one of those sinking »nd obvious facts, which speak to the feelings of ¡he multitude, and preclude the necessity of reflection. No one stopped to inquire into the case. It Wm sufficient to be told that Columbus waa brought home in irons from the world he had discovered! A general burst of indignation arose in Cadiz, »nd in the powerful and opulent Seville, which was immediately echoed throughout all Spain."

"Ferdinand joined with his generous queen in her reprobation of the treatment of the admiral, ar,d both sovereigns hastened to give evidence to the world that his imprisonment had been without the:r authority, and contrary 10 their wishes. Without waiting to receive any documents thai might arrive from Bobadilla, they sent orders to Cadiz that the prisoners should be instantly set at liberty, ar.d treated with all distinction. They wrote a letter to Columbus couched in terms of gratitude and affection, expressing iheir grief at all he had suffered, and inviting him to court. They ordered, at the same lime, that two thousand ducats should be advanced to defray his expenses.

"The loyal heart of Columbus was again cheered by this declaration of his sovereigns. He felt conscious of his integrity, and anticipated an immecis:« restitution of all his rights and dignities. He appeared at court in Granada on the 17ih of December, not as a man ruined and disgraced, but richly dressed, and attended by an honourable retinae. He was received by their majesties with unquaülird favour and distinction. When the queen behpls this venerable man approach, and thought on all he had deserved and all that he had suffered, she <va* moved to tears. Columbus had borne up firmly against the stern conflicts of the world,—he had endured with lofty scorn ihe injuries and insult of ignoble men, but he possessed strong and quick sensibility. When he found himself thus kindly received by his sovereigns, and beheld tears in the benign eyes of Isabella, his long-suppressed feelings burst forth; he threw himself upon his knt«, and for some time could not utter a word for the violence of his tears and sobbings'."

In the year 1502, and in the sixty-«itk year of his age, the indefatigable diseoreг<т set out on his fourth and last voyage. In this he reached the coast of Honduras; and fell in with a race somewhat more advanced in civilization than any he had yet encountered in these remote regions. They had mantles of woven cotton and some small utetteibjof native copper. He then ran down the shore of Veragua, and came through tremendous tempests to Portobello, in search, it appears of a strait or inlet, by which he had pergoaded himself he should find a ready way to the shores of the Ganges: The extreme severity of the season, and the miserable condition of his ships, compelled him, however. to abandon this great enterprise; the account of which Mr. Irving winds up with the following quaint and not very felicitous observation: "If he was disappointed in his expectation of raiding a strait through the Isthmus of Dänen, it was because nature herself had been disappointed—for she appears to have attempted to make one, but to have attempted it ш Tain."

After this he returned to the coast of VerauTB. n-here he landed, and formed a temporary settlement, with a view of searching for certain sold mines which he had been told were in "the neighbourhood. This, however, was but the source of new disasters. The natives, who were of a fierce and warlike character, attacked and betrayed him—and hi« vessels were prevented from getting to sea, by the formation of a formidable bar at the month of the river.

At last, by prodigious exertions, and the heroic spirit of some of his officers, he was enabled to get away. But his altered fortune «ill [T'rsued him. He was harassed by perpetnal storms, and after having beat up nearly to Hispaniola, was assailed by

"Л «udden tempest, of such violence, that, acc-rramg to the strong expression of Columbus, it wemed as if the world would dissolve. 'I'hey lost ihree of iheir anchors almost immediately, and the caravel Bermuda was driven with such violence opon the »hip of the admiral, that the bow of the nne, »nd the etern of the other, were greatly shattered. The sea running high, and the wind being bo'îTerous, ihe vessels chafed and injured each other di»adfalljr. and il was with great difficulty thai they were separated. One anchor only remained to the »dmirml'sship, and this saved him from being driven иго-i [he rocks; but at daylight the cable won found Mtrhr worn asunder. Had the darkness continued >" hour longer, he could scarcely have escaped ilrpwrecK.

"At ihe end of six days, the weather having nojerated. he resumed his course, standing enstvnrd for Hispaniola: 'his people,' as he says, ' dismayed and down-hearted, almost all his anchors l«*t, «nd his vessels bored as full of holes as a loneycomb."

His proud career seemed now to be hastening to a miserable end. Incapable of struggling longer with the elements, he was obliged to nm before the wind to Jamaica, where he was not even in a condition to attempt to mate any harbour.

"Hie ship», reduced to mere wrecks, could no К'Л^РГ keep the sea, and were ready to sink even •a pnrt. He ordered them, therefore, to be run '•sroond. within a bow-shot of the shore, and fast>чнИ together, fide by side. They «non filled with »aier to the decks. Thatched cabins were then erected »t ihe prow and stern for the accommoda'•on of ih<> crews, and the wreck was pinned in the b*«t possible state of defence. Thus castled in the M*. Columbus trusted to be able to repel anv sudd*n ait»ck of the natives, »nd at the same lime to »**T> bis men from roving about the neighbourhood «nd indulging in their usual excesses. No one was si-owed to goon shore without especial licence, and ih» oimcwt precaution was taken to prevent any "flrncc from being given ю the Indiana. Any ex

asperation of them might be fatal to the Spaniards in their present forlorn situation. A firebrand thrown into their wooden fortress might wrap it in flames, and leave them defenceless amidst hostile thousands.*'

"The envy," says Mr. Irving, "which had once sickened at the glory and prosperity of Columbus, could scarcely have devised for him a more lor lorn heritage in the world he had discovered; the tenant of a wreck on a savage coast, in an untraversed ocean, at the mercy of barbarous hordes, who, in a moment, from precarious friends, might be trans formed into ferocious enemies; afflicted, too, by excruciating maladies which confined him to his bed, and by the pains and intirmilies which hardship and anxiety had heaped upon his advancing age. But Columbus had not yet exhausted his cup of bitterness. He had yet to experience an evil worse than storm, or shipwreck, or bodily anguish, or the violence of savage hordes, in the perfidy of those in whom he confided."

The account of his sufferings during tho twelve long months he was allowed to remain in this miserable condition, is full of the deepest interest, and the strangest variety of adventure. But we can now only refer to it.— Two of his brave and devoted adherents undertook to cross to Hispaniola in a slender Indian canoe, and after incredible miseries, at length accomplished this desperate undertaking—but from the cold-hearted itiJecieion, or paltry jealousy, of the new Governor Ovando, it was not till the late period we have mentioned, that a vessel was at length deepatched to the relief of the illustrious sufferer.

But he was not the only, or even the most memorable sufferer. From the time he was superseded in command, the misery and oppression of the natives of Hispaniola had increased beyond all proportion or belief. By the miserable policy of the new governor, their services were allotted to the Spanien settlers, who compelled them to work by the cruel infliction of the scourge; and, withholding from them the nourishment nece?Sary for health, exacted a degree of labour which could not have been sustained by the most vigorous men.

"If they fled from this incessant toil and barbarous coercion, and look refuge in the mountains, they were hunted out like wild beasts, scourged in the most inhuman manner, and laden with chains to prevent a second escape. Many perished long before their term of labour had expired. Those who survived their term of six or eicht months, were permitted to return to their homes, until the next term commenced. But their homes were often forty, sixty, and eighty leagues distant. They had nothing to sustain them through the journey hut a few roots or agi peppers, or a little cassavabread. Worn down by long toil and cruel hardships, which their feeble constitutions were incapable of sustaining, many had not strength to perform the journey, but sunk down and died by the way; some by the side of a brook, others under the shade of a tree, where they had crawled for ehelier from the sun. 'I have found many dead in the rond.' says bas Casas, 'others gasping under ihe trees, and others in the pangs of deaih, faintly crying. Hunger; hunger!' 1'hose who reached their homes most commonly found them desolate. During the eight months that they had been absent their wives and children had either perished or wandered away; the field? on which they depended for food were overrun with weeds, and nothing was left them but to lie down, exhausted and despairing, and die at the threshold of their habitations.

It is impossible to pursue any farther the picture drawn by the venerable Las Casas, not of what he had heard, but of what he had seen—nature and humanity revolt at the details. Suffice it to say that, so intolerable were the toils and sufferings inflicted upon this weak and unoffending race, that they sunk under them, dissolving as it were from “he face of the earth. . Many killed themselves in despair, and even mothers overcame the powerful instinct of nature, and destroyed the infants at their breasts, to spare them a life of wretchedness. Twelve years had not elapsed since the discovery of the island, and several hundred thousands of its native inhabitants had perished, miserable victims to the grasping avarice of the white men.”

These pictures are sufficiently shocking; but they do not exhaust the horrors that cover the brief history of this ill-fated people. The province or district of Xaragua, which was ruled over by a princess, called Anacaona, celebrated in all the contemporary accounts for the grace and dignity of her manners, and her confiding attachment to the strangers, had hitherto enjoyed a happy exemption from the troubles which distracted the other parts of the island, and when visited about ten years before by the brother of Columbus, had impressed all the Spaniards with the idea of an earthly paradise: both from the fertility and sweetness of the country, the gentleness of its people, and the beauty and grace of the women. Upon some rumours that the neighbouring caciques were assembling for hostile purposes, Ovando now marched into this devoted region with a well-appointed force of near four hundred men. He was hospitably and joyfully received by the princess: and affected to encourage and join in the festivity which his presence had excited. He was even himself engaged in a sportful game with his officers, when the signal for massacre was given—and the place was instantly covered with blood! . Eighty of the caciques were burnt over slow fires! and thousands of the unarmed and unresisting people butchered, without regard to sex or age. “Humanity,” Mr. Irving very justly observes, “turns with horror from o atrocities, and would fain discredit them: But they are circumstantially and still more minutely recorded by the venerable Las Casas—who was resident in the island at the time, and conversant with the principal actors in the tragedy.”

Still worse enormities signalised the final subjugation of the province of Higuey—the last scene of any attempt to resist the tyrannical power of the invaders. It would be idle to detail here the progress of that savage and most unequal warfare: but it is right that the butcheries perpetrated by the victors should not be forgotten—that men may see to what incredible excesses civilised beings o be tempted by the possession of absolute and unquestioned power—and may learn, from indisputable memorials, how far the abuse of delegated and provincial authority may be actually carried. If it be true, as Homer has alleged, that the day which makes a man a slave, takes away half his worth—it seems to be still more infallibly and fatally true, that the master generally suffers a yet larger privation.

“Sometimes,” says Mr. Irving, they would hunt down a straggling Indian, and compel him, by torments, to betray the hiding-place of his companions, binding him and driving him before them as a guide. herever they discovered one of these places of refuge, filled with the aged and the infirm, with feeble women and helpless children, they massacred them without mercy! . The wished to inspire terror throughout the sand, and to frighten the whole tribe into submission. They cut off the hands of those whom they took roving at large, and sent them, as they said, to deliver them as letters to their friends, demanding their surrender. Numberless were those, says Las Casas, whose hands were amputated in this manner, and man of them sunk down and died by the way, ho anguish and loss of blood. * The conquerors delighted in exercising strange and ingenious cruelties. They mingled horrible levity with their bloodthirstiness. They erected gibbets long and low, so that the feet of the sufterers might reach the ground, and their death be lingering. They hanged thirteen together, in reverence, says the indignant Las Casas, of our blessed Saviour and the twelve apostles' While their victims were suspended, and still living, they hacked them with their swords, to prove the strength of their arm and the edge of their weapons. They wrapped them in dry straw, and setting fire to it, terminated their existence by the fiercest agony. “These are horrible details; yet a veil is drawn over others still more detestable. They are related by the venerable Las Casas, who was an eye-witness of the scenes he describes. He was young at the time, but records them in his advanced years. “All these things,’ says he, “and others revolting to human nature, my own eyes beheld ! and now I almost fear to repeat them, scarce believing myself, or whether l have not dreamt them.' “The system of Columbus may have borne hard upon the Indians, born and o up in untasked freedom; but it was never cruel nor sanguinary. He inflicted no wanton massacres nor vindictive punishments; his desire was to cherish and civilise the Indians, and to render them useful subjects, not to oppress, and persecute, and destroy them. When he beheld the desolation that had swept them from the land during his suspension from authority, he could not restrain the strong expression of his feelings. In a letter written to the o after his return to Spain, he thus expresses himself on the subject: ‘The Indians of Hispaniola were and are the riches of the island; for it is they who cultivate and make the bread and the provisions for the Christians, who dig the gold from the mines, and perform all the offices and labours both of men and beasts. I am informed that, since I left this island, (that is, in less than three years,) sir parts out of seven of the motives are dead, all through ill treatment and inhumanity some by the sword, others by blows and cruel usage, and others through hunger. The greater part have perished in the mountains and glens, whither they had fled, from not being able to support the labour imposed upon them.’”

The story now draws to a close. Columbus returned to Spain, broken down with age and affliction—and after two years spent in unavailing solicitations at the court of the cold-blooded and ungrateful Ferdinand (his generous patroness, Isabella, having died inmediately on his return), terminated with characteristic magnanimity a life of singular energy, splendour, and endurance. Indepen dent of his actual achievements, he was un doubtedly a great and remarkable man; and Mr Irving has summed up his general character in a very eloquent and judicious way.

“His ambition,” he observes, “was lofty and noble. He was full of high thoughts, and anxious to distinguish himself by great achievements. It Ins been said that a mercenary feeling mingled wiih his views, and lhat his stipulations with the Spanish Court were selfish and avaricious. The charge U inconsiderate and unjust. He aimed at dignity and wealth in the same lofty spirit in which he sought renown; and the gains thai promised to an«: from his discoveries, he intended to appropriate in the same princely and pious spirit in which they were demanded. He contemplated works and achievements of benevolence ana religion: vast contributions for the relief of the poor of his native сну: the foundation of churches, where masses should be said for the souls of the departed; and armies for the recovery of the holy sepulchre in Palestine.

"In his testament, he enjoined on his son Diego, ind whoever after him should inherit his estoles, whatever dignities and titles might afterwards be granted by the king, always to sign himself simply 1 ihe Admiral,' by way of perpetuating in the family its real source of greatness."

"He was devoutly pious; religion mingled with (he whole course of his thoughts and actions, and shines forth in all his most private and unstudied »Tilings. Whenever he made any great discovery, he celebrated it by solemn thanks to God. The voice of prayer and melody of praise rose from his ship« when he first beheld the New World, and hi.« first action on landing was to prostrate himself upon the earth and return thanksgivings. Every evening, the Salve Regina, and other vesper hymns, were chanted by his crew, and masses were performed in the beautiful groves that bordered the »ibl shores of this heathen land. The religion thus deeply aeatefl in the soul, diffused a sober dignity »nd benign composure over his whole demeanour. His language was pure and guarded, free ¿mm all imprecations, oaths, and other irreverent •Jiptessions. But his piety was darkened by the Ыго'гу of the age. He evidently concurred in the opinion that all the nations who did not acknowledge the Christian faith were destituir of natural rights; thai the sternest measures might he used for their conversion, and the severest punishments inflicted upon their obstinacy in unbelief. In this spirit of bigotry he considered himself justified in making captivée of the Indians, and transporting them to Spain to have them taught the doctrines of Christianity, and in selling them for slaves if they pretended to resist his invasions. He was countenanced in these views, no doubt, by the general inion of the age. But it is not the intention of e author to justify Columbus on a point where it inexcusable to err. Let it remain a blot on his illustrious name, — and let others derive a lesson Irom it."

He was a man, too, undoubtedly, as all truly great men have been, of an imaginative and sensitive temperament — something, as Mr. Irving has well remarked, even of a visionary — but a visionary of a high and lofty order, controlling his ardent imagination by a powerful judgment and great practical sagacity, and deriving not only a noble delight tut signal accessions of knowledge from this rigour and activity of his fancy.

"Yet. with all this fervour of imagination," as Mr. Irving has strikingly observed, "its fondest dri-ягп» fell short of the reality. He died in jenoraiw« of the real grandeur of his discovery. Until I.« last breath he entertained the idea lhat he had merely opened a new way to the old resorts of opuleni commerce, and had discovered some of the wild region» of the east. He supposed Hispaniola m be the ancient Ophir which had been visited by •he «hip« of Solomon, and that Cuba and Terra Firm» were but remote parte of Asia. What visions

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of glory would have broke upon his mind could he have known that he had indeed discovered anew continent, equal to the whole of the old world in magnitude, and separated by two vast oceans from all the earth hitherto known by civilised man! And how would his magnanimous spirit have been consoled, amidst the afflictions of age and the cares of penury, the neglect of a fickle public, and the injustice of an ungrateful king, could he have anticipated the splendid empires which were to spread over the beautiful world he had discovered; and the nations, and tongues, and languages which were to fill its lands with his renown, and to revere and bless his name to the latest posterity!"

The appendix to Mr. Irving's work, which occupies the greater part of the last volume, contains most of the original matter which his learning and research have enabled him to bring to bear on the principal subject, and constitutes indeed a miscellany of a singularly curious and interesting description. It consists, besides very copious and elaborate accounts of the family and descendants of Columbus, principally of extracts and critiques of the discoveries of earlier or contemporary navigators—the voyages of the Carthaginians and the Scandinavians,—of Behem; the Pinzone, Amerigo Vespucci, and others—with some very curious remarks on (he travels of Marco Polo, and Mandeville—a dissertation on the ships used by Columbus and his contemporaries—on the Atalantis of Plato—the imaginary island of St. Brandan, and of the Seven Cities—together with remarks on the writings of Peter Martyr, Oviedo, Herrera, Las Casas, and the other contemporary chroniclers of those great discoveries. The whole drawn up. we think, with singular judgment, diligence, and candour; and presenting the reader, in the most manageable form, with almost all the collateral information which could be brought to elucidate the transactions to which they relate.

Such is the general character of Mr. Irving;s book—and such are parts of its contents. We do not pretend to give any view whatever of the substance of four large historical volumes; and fear that the specimens we have ventured to exhibit of the author's way of writing are not very well calculated to do justice either to the occasional force, or the constant variety, of his style. But for judicious readers they will probably suffice—and, we trust, will be found not only to warrant the praise we have felt ourselves called on to bestow, but to induce many to gratify themselves by the perusal of the work at large.

Mr. Irving, we believe, was not in England when his work was printed: and we must say he has been very insufficiently represented by the corrector of the press. We do not recollect ever to have seen so handsome a book with so many gross typographical errors. In many places they obscure the sense—and are very frequently painful and offensive. It will be absolutely necessary that this be looked to in a new impression; and the author would do well to avail himself of the same opportunity, to correct some verbal inaccuracies, and to polish and improve some passages of slovenly writing.

(Jone, 1827.)

Memoirs of Zehir-ed-din MÜhammed Bauer. Emperor of Hindustan, vrritten by himself, n 'the Jaghalai Turki, and translated, partly by the late John Leyden, Esq. M.D., partly 63 William Erskine, Esq. With Notes and a Geographical and Historical Introduction: (•> ccther u-ilh a Map of the Countries between the Ozus and Jaxartes, and a Memoir regards its Construction, by Charles Waddinctom, Esq., of the East India Company's Engmetn. London: 1826.

This is a very curious, and admirably edited work. But the strongest impression which the perusal of it has left on our minds is the boundlessness of authentic history; and, if we might venture to say it, the uselessness of all history which does not relate to our own fraternity of nations, or even bear, in some way or other, on our own present or future condition.

We have here a distinct and faithful account of some hundreds of battles, sieges, and great military expeditions, and a character of a prodigious Lumber of eminent individuals,—men famous in their day, over wide regions, for genius or fortune—poets, conquerors, martyrs —founders of cities and dynasties—authors of immortal works—ravagera of vast districts abounding in wealth and population. Of all these great personages and events, nobody in Europe, if we except a score or two of studious Orientalists', has ever heard before: and it would not, we imagine, be very easy to ehow that we are any better for hearing of them now. A few curious traits, that happen to be strikingly in contrast with our own manners and habits, may remain on the memory of a reflecting reader—with a general confused recollection of the dark and gorgeous phantasmagoria. But no one, we may fairly say, will think it worth while to digest or develops the details of the history; or be at the pains to become acquainted with the leading individuals, and fix in his memory the series and connection of events. Yet the effusion of human blood was as copious—the display of talent and courage as imposing— the perversion of h:gh moral qualities, and the waste of the means of enjoyment as unsparing, as in other long-past battles and intrigues and revolutions, over the details of which we still pore with the most unwearied attention: and to verify the dates or minute circumstances of which, is still regarded as a great exploit in historical research, and among the noblest employments of human learning and sagacity.

It is not perhaps very easy to account for the eagerness with which we still follow the fortunes of Miltiades, Alexander, or Ctesar— of the Bruce and the Black Prince, and the interest which yet belongs to the fields of Marathon and Pharsalia, of Crecy and Bannockbum, compared with the indifference, or rather reluctance, with which we listen to the details of Asiatic warfare—the conquests that transferred to the Moguls the vast sovereignties of India, or raised a dynasty of Manchew

Tartars to the Celestial Empire of China. It will not do to say, that we want eomeihirr nobler in character, and more exalted ш intellect, than is to be met with among the*» murderous Orientals—that there is nothing to interest in the contentions of mere force and violence; and that it requires no very iiu?drawn reasoning to explain why we should turn with disgust from the etory. if it liail been preserved, of the savage affrays whirh have drenched the sands of Africa or th" rock? of New Zealand—through long generational 'murder—with the blood of their bruti.-h population. This may be true enough of Madagascar or Dahomy; but it does not apply a the case before us. The nations of Asia гег:^ rally—at least those composing its great »law —were undoubtedly more polished than thus« of Europe, during all the period that precoietheir recent connection. Their warriors werf as brave in the field, their statesmen more subtle and politic in the cabinet: In the агй of luxury, and all the elegancies of civil life, they were immeasurably superior; m ingenuity of speculation—in literature—ш «ocial politeness—the comparison is still in the» favour.

It has often occurred to us, indeed, to consider what the effect would have been on !i¿ i fate and fortunes of the world, if, in ihe four| teenth, or fifteenth century, when the cerro! of their present civilisation were first discloses the nations of Europe had been introduced И an intimate and friendly acquaintance »vh the great polished communities of the Еяй, and had been thus led to take them for their masters in intellectual cultivation, and ihe.' models in all the higher pursuits of genios polity, and art. The difference in our social and moral condition, it would not perhaps be easy to estimate: But one result, we roncéis, would unquestionably have been, to male us take the same deep interest in their ancier.l story, which we now feel, for similar геззд?, 1 in that of the sterner barbarians of early Home. or the more imaginative clans and colocief of immortal Greece. The experiment, bowever, though there seemed oftener than ошж to be some openings for it, was not ш*1е. Our crusading ancestors were too rude themselves to estimate or to feel the value of ¡he | oriental refinement which presented it«1!!' j their passing gaze, and too entirely occupied i with war and bigotry, to reflect on its cauwê or effects; and the first naval adventurers wj« opened up India to our commerce, were both too few and too far off to communicate w

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