and as the sea-breeze rises, eagerly inhale it; fondly believing that it has lately visited their own happy valleys, and comes fraught with the breath of those they love, their wives and children. With this idea they continue for hours on the coast, until nature becomes utterly exhausted; when stretching out their arms towards the ocean, as if to take a last embrace of their distant country and relations, they sink down and expire without a groan.

"One of the Lucayos, who was more desirous of life, or had greater courage than most of his countrymen, took upon him a bold and difficult piece of work. Having been accustomed to build cottages in his own country, he procured instruments of stone, and cut down a large spongy tree, called jaruma, (i. e. the bombax or wild cotton) the body of which he dexterously scooped into a canoe. He then provided himself with oars, some Indian corn, and a few gourds of water, and prevailed on another man and woman to embark with him on a voyage to the Lucayos Islands. The navigation was prosperous for nearly 200 miles, and they were almost within sight of their long lost shores, when they were met by a Spanish ship, which brought them back to slavery and sorrow. The canoe is still preserved in Hispaniola as a singular curiosity, considering the circumstances under which it was made."

But it is high time to quit these gloomy and horrible details, in which we discover nothing but what confers disgrace upon Europe, notwithstanding all its boasted arts and pretences to refinement and civilization. They are scenes which mark the earlier settlers of the West India Islands with stains which never can be effaced; and which must hand down the Spanish name with infamy and detestation to the latest generations of the world. They are scenes which will display to millions who are yet unborn, the fatal effects of power when uncontrouled by the principles of eternal justice. And at the same time they will fully shew the pernicious consequences which result from blind superstition and fanatical bigotry, when acting under the influence of lawless and intemperate zeal.

Bad as human nature is abstractedly from grace, the report of these enormities is too bold in its relation to claim an immediate assent. But unhappily, our attempts to falsify the facts would ensure to the mind that conviction which it wishes to shun. The evidence is too strong for resistance, and too explicit to afford any shelter in incredulity. The more we inquire into the authenticity of those facts which seem too enormous to be believed, the more conspicuous will they appear: the mind of him whose eye glances over them, and then commences its inquiries to quell those doubts which the recital of them may

VOL. L.

S

have raised, will find proofs where it expected a refutation, and will sink under the weight of conviction where humanity would induce it to expect relief.

When that madness which now actuates the empires of the world, subsides in future years, and peace and brotherly love overspread the globe, the records of ancient days will perhaps be deemed little better than romance. Then that guilty nation, whose bloody enormities we have been reciting, may embrace some opportunity of acknowledging with heart-felt compunction those detestable crimes, which in the eyes of every other nation now disgrace her name. But even in the case which we contemplate, her atrocities will still lie against her, and all she can hope is that they may be rather forgotten than erased.

The light of the gospel diffusing itself through the habitable world, instructs us in concert with express revelation, to expect those important changes, which through divine grace will effectually ameliorate the condition, and subdue the unholy passions of man. Then those annals which record her days of blood, sinking beneath the weight of the wanton miseries which they have preserved, may fall into disrepute, and the Spanish nation escape the indignation of mankind through those incredible excesses which will appear too monstrous to obtain belief.

But whether these crimes shall be remembered or forgotten by man, are points of distant and trifling consideration. One truth is certain; and that is, that they will not be forgotten by God. With him there can be neither "variableness, nor shadow of turning." The actions of men can admit of no concealment; and to exaggerate them, there can be no occasion. Nothing can escape the notice of the Almighty, either through an inability to comprehend, or through the lapse of time. The period therefore must arrive, in which that justice shall be administered and become conspicuous, which we now in many cases inquire for in vain.

Why God who is infinitely powerful, and infinitely just, should suffer such enormities to pass through time without marking the delinquents with some signal vengeance, is what we cannot comprehend, any more than we can assign reasons why he should suffer the wretched Indians to fall by such inhuman butcheries as exterminated them from the face of the earth. But since nothing can take place without his appointment or permission, and he is infinite goodness and perfection; since nothing can elude his observation, or escape his knowledge; his ways must necessarily be equal. And since the justice of his proceedings is not fully conspicuous in this life, we may rest our selves assured that it will be more completely unfolded in another,

With these views before us of the Divine equity, we must refer those mysterious dispensations which he suffers to exist, to a day of retribution, in which both the righteous and the wicked shall meet their respective rewards. The calamities which we have just beheld in the unfortunate island of Hispaniola, are such as our limited capacities cannot comprehend. We therefore conclude that the present life forms but a small portion of human existence; and that the barrier must be broken down which divides us from an eternal state, before we can survey those scenes which are necessary to mature our judgments on so abstruse a point.

But if these subjects are beyond the utmost stretch of our finite powers, the difficulties will increase in proportion as we extend our views. If we quit for a moment the cruelties of the island to survey the devastations of the continent, our surprise will be lengthened into astonishment, and we shall sink overwhelmed with our own contemplations. If we traverse Peru and Mexico, and follow Cortez and his cotemporaries through those acts of rapine and depredation which marked their progress with blood in these devoted countries, the scene of cruelty and destruction seems to run through interminable distances, and the mind is fatigued in moving over the desolated tract.

Accounts differ as to the extent of the murders which were committed. Some estimate the massacres at no less than fifteen millions of human beings; others sink them so low as ten millions ; and others reckon according to the intermediate numbers. But taking the statement in any of the given numbers, the case will appear almost equally difficult of solution; we look around us for relief in vain, but the mind finds at last safe anchorage in eternity.

Every thing conspires to direct our views beyond the grave; it is only there that the mind can find an asylum, in which it can repose itself with assurance, without feeling the uneasiness of disturbance or alarm. And such is the confidence which the above details of human miseries suggest, that we cannot avoid concluding, that the evidences which support us in believing the being of a God, will also support us in believing the certainty of a future state. There are proofs in both cases, which are not easily resisted; and the truths which they support, must stand or fall together.

CHAP. III.

Natives of the Charaibean or Windward Islands-origin-perSons-natural dispositions-warfare and modes of life-religious views-confused notions of the being of God-and of future state of rewards and punishments-reflections on the

a

whole.

IN the preceding chapter we have given some account of the

natives of the Leeward Islands, and made some observations on their origin, their numbers, their manners, and their whole history. An investigation of the Charaibean character now rises before us, and claims our attention, as proceeding from distinct race of men.

There are perhaps but few cases in the history of man, in which a contrast can be more striking, than that which will result from a comparison between them and the inhabitants of the Leeward Islands. In their persons and manners, the contrast appears conspicuous; their natural dispositions and prevailing propensities will confirm the observations which we make, and the religious rites, (if such they may be termed,) which are observable among them, respectively, will plainly prove that the natives of the Leeward and of the Windward Islands sprung from different countries. The progress of time may cause men, not radically different, to exhibit appearances which show that they have but little affinity to each other; and that though springing from the same fountain, they have been separated from each other through a number of ages, which having shut up all intercourse between them, have obliterated those come mon marks by which alone we can trace a common relation.

But on these points, as well as on the solitary mode of life which is so observable among the Charaibees, the reader must make his own reflections. Effects, which are in themselves so distant and various, can originate only in propensities which are widely different; and consequently such strange diversities as we are called upon to perceive, must claim such distant origins, in a local view, as we are obliged to assign, and which can have but a very remote communication with one another. But simple distance, either in time or situation, is not of itself sufficient to produce those opposite effects, which offer themselves to our notice. Some extraneous cause or causes must have conspired to call into existence those variations, which we cannot fail to behold. What these extraneous causes are, in

their physical nature, which have been capable, in their operations, of producing such a visible difference between man and man, though we may attempt to conjecture, perhaps we shall never be able here below fully to understand. The fact is nevertheless incontrovertible; it is demonstrated by daily observation in every part of our intercourse with mankind; but in no portion of human history can it appear more conspicuous, than in the distant characters of the Charaibees and the natives of the Leeward Islands.

But though we admit those striking differences which we cannot avoid contemplating, it will not at all follow that men are physically unlike. There are radical principles which are too permanently fixed in man, for time or adventitious circumstances to alter. Men may undergo an infinite variety of changes, but in every condition they are physically the same. The variations which we perceive, must have resulted from some secret causes, operating upon the established principles of human nature by slow and imperceptible degrees, through the long lapse of ages, which have rolled on from the primary separation of mankind to the given hour.

A variation in climate will, without all doubt, produce considerable effects; and the influence of custom will tend to confirm habits so acquired, with a permanency which neither reason nor philosophy is able to subdue. But how far either climate or custom may have tended to produce that visible difference which is so evident between the natives of the Windward and Leeward Islands, is a point extremely difficult to be determined. We must therefore attribute the ferocious and warlike spirit of the Charaibees to the ascendency of some cause which we have not been able fully to explore, and which, matured into habit, cannot easily be erased.

Of the primary origin of this fierce race of men, the accounts which we have are various, and far from being satisfactory. A train of circumstances will oblige us to allow, that these natives of the Windward Islands obtained their insular situation by emigrating from the continental shores of South America; and beyond the proofs of this point, our knowledge of their origin will hardly permit us to pass. But these evidences which circumstances afford us, do not reach the original question. That these islands were first peopled from the southern continent of America, but little doubt can remain; but from what portion of the globe they migrated, before they found this continental abode, is a point which no positive proof can now determine.

The origin of a savage people, without records, without government, without laws, and without arts, must necessarily be