thus endorsing spirit with material limbs, and giving limits to that Intelligence which fills all space. Mr. Martin is an admirable artist, and possesses a magnificent imagination, but he here sinned against common sense, and betrayed an equal want of good taste and sound judgment. That Burke considered that an apparition to be sublime, should be shapeless, may be seen in the following eloquently figurative passage in his "REGICIDE PEACE:" "Deprived of the old government, deprived in a manner of all government, France fallen as a monarchy, to common speculators might have appeared more like to be an object of pity or insult, according to the disposition of the circumjacent powers, then to be the Scourge and terror of them all; but out of the tomb of the murdered monarchy in France has arisen a vast, tremendous, unformed spectre, in a far more terrific guise than any which ever yet overpowered the imagination and subdued the fortitude of man. Going straight forward to its end, unappalled by peril, unchecked by remorse, despising all common maxims and all common means, that hideous phantom overpowered those who could not believe it was possible she could at all exist, except on the principles, which habit rather than nature had persuaded them were necessary to their own particular welfare and to their now ordinary modes of action."* Now here the spectre which this great magician has conjured from the tomb of the murdered monarchy, was an unformed spectre! It has the same attribute more concisely expressed which he adduces from Job. "I could not discern the form thereof;" but this shadowy indistinctness creates no impression, nor communicates any of those feelings which sublimity is supposed to inspire. Mr. Burke, whose imagery is in general as correct as it is beautiful, exhibits, in the above passage, an instance of oversight, which in his writings is not often to be found. He makes his spectre a personal agent actively employed in the recesses of political iniquity; he describes it as going straight forward to its end, unap 66 palled by peril, unchecked by remorse— despising all common maxims and all common means." But the philosopher of Beaconsfield, never touched on the subject of the revolution in France, without setting his passions so much on the ferment, as to make him inattentive to a confusion of metaphor, which on any other subject he would have in no wise permitted. In truth there is, perhaps, no writer, indulging so frequently as he does in figurative illustration, who so rarely suffers it to cloud the clearness of his arguments. In the same letter which contains the above passage, may be found another, exhibiting an ideal picture which, for the vividness with which it brings its terrific vision before the eye, has perhaps never been surpassed. "To those who do not love to contemplate the fall of human greatness, I do not know a more mortifying spectacle than to see the assembled majesty of the crowned heads of Europe, waiting as patient suitors in the antechamber of regicide. They wait, it seems, until the sanguinary tyrant, Carnot, shall have snorted away the fumes of the indigested blood of his sovereign. Then, when sunk on the down of usurped pomp, he shall have sufficiently indulged his meditations with what monarch he shall next glut his ravening maw, he may condescend to signify that it is his pleasure to be awake; and that he is at leisure to receive the proposals of his high and mighty clients for the terms on which he may respite the execution of the sentence he has passed upon them. At the opening of these doors, what a sight it must be to behold the plenipotentiaries of royal impotence, in the precedency which they will intrigue to obtain, and which will be granted to them according to the seniority of their degradation, sneaking into the regicide presence, and with the relics of the smile, which they had dressed up for the levee of their masters, still flickering on their curled lips, presenting the faded remains of their courtly graces, to meet the scornful, ferocious, sardonic grin of a bloody ruffian, who, whilst he is receiving their homage, is measuring them with his eye, and fitting to their size the slider of his guillotine!"+ *Letters on a Regicide Peace.-See his Works, vol. viii., p. 8. + Ibid., p. 34. Burke was possessed of an imagination highly poetical. It is this which enables him to decorate even the driest subject of politics, and to carry the reader along, delighted, over the most barren and beaten ground. Simple description is capable of affording to the mind the same sort of pleasure which it receives from language highly figurative; but in this case it must be connected with natural and tender associations, and much must depend after all on the pursuits, character,and disposition of the reader. The scholar, for example, will enjoy the following classical image in which Burns in one of his letters paints the first obscure aspirations of his genius: "I had felt some early stirrings of ambition: but they were the blind groping of Homer's Cyclop round the walls of his cave. But the lover of pastoral nature, who delights to wander into fields and glens, and who banquets on the recollections of rural scenery, will read with far stronger emotion the following vivid sketch from the pen of the same favourite poet. The passage is from one of his letters to Mrs. Dunlop. "We know nothing, or next to nothing, of the substance or structure of our souls, so cannot account for those seeming caprices in them, that one should be pleased with this thing, or struck with that, which, in minds of a different cast, makes no extraordinary impression. I have some favourite flowers in spring, among which are the mountain-daisy, the harebel, the foxglove, the wild brier-rose, the budding birch, and the hoary hawthorn, that I view and hang over with particular delight. I never hear the loud solitary whistle of the curlew in a Summer noon, or the wild mixing cadence of a troop of gray plovers in an autumnal morning, without feeling an elevation of soul like the enthusiasm of devotion or poetry. Tell me, my dear friend, to what can this be owing? Are we a piece of machinery which, like the Eolian harp, passive, takes the impres sion of the passing accident? Or do these workings argue something within us, above the trodden clod.”* The mind of Burns was highly poetical, and in such a mind, when the passions are at rest, the pure emotions of religion are always predominant. The style of his letters are excellent; it has all that vigour of sentiment and feeling which is inseparable from real genius. Perhaps the perfection of epistolary writing is to be found in the letters of CowPER. Their intellectual raciness is extraordinary when we consider the usually depressed spirits of the writer, arising from the gloominess of his religious creed. Every subject has a style suitable to it. The majestic periods of Gibbon would be wholly out of place in a familiar letter; let the language come warm from the heart, and the head will always do it justice. But the unstudied eloquence of the epistolary style would be improper for history; which requires that the reflections should be well weighed, because the value of history depends on the truth and clearness of the reasoning, whereas the great charm of letter-writing is sincerity, and sincerity does not require much expense of thought; all attempts at pointed and brilliant expression serve only to throw a doubt upon it. The great secret of writing well is to comprehend distinctly what it is you mean to say before you sit down to write. When the conceptions you wish to convey are clearly present to your own mind, you will have no difficulty in delivering them in a style most appropriate to the subject. Whether in writing or in speaking, the thoughts will readily clothe themselves in words. The beauty of the sentiments must depend on genius; but their leading perfection is perspicuity, for without this they are not susceptible of ornament. As to style it is neither to be formed by rules, nor to be acquired by imitation. Learn to think well, and to reason clearly-all the rest will follow. * Reliques of Burns, ii., p. 195. S. Oh, for some fair Formosa, such as he The young Jew, fabled of, in the Indian sea, THE spirit of chivalry which so long animated Spain had changed its direction, and turned into a current more useful, and which seemed at the same time to promise renown more lasting, had bent the minds of all adventurers towards the western world, where riches and glory seemed to await all who might be bold enough to dare the perils of the track to these unknown regions, and where the dreams of imaginations the most excited seemed likely to be fully realized. Such was the feeling which glowed in the breasts of the chivalrous sons of Spain in the early part of the 16th century. The discoveries which were annually made, and the vast expectations which each discovery held out of the certainty of more, awoke a degree of emulation without its parallel in Europe since the time of the crusades; but, unfortunately, awoke with it the insatiable thirst after riches which knows no limit, which sees no impediment, hesitates at no cruelty, and pauses at no crime! Thus the glory which Spain acquired politically she soon lost morally, and the unlicensed freedom of those who in a new world assumed the dignity of gods, though debased by the passions of demons,-while it sent home gold and treasure incalculable, was, nevertheless, the final cause of her decay and degradation. The lofty spirit of pride and independence, so long the characteristics of the Castilian, were exchanged for the sordid love of gold; and the noble and high-minded Spaniard degenerated into a slave more abject than him whom he compelled to drudge in the distant mine; with loss of character the real power of Spain declined;-the lethargy of luxury absorbed all the noble sentiments which formerly inspired her, and the proud dictators of both hemispheres fell from the pinnacle of her greatness, and sunk beneath the level of the sur rounding nations, now amply repaid for their former inferiority by the humiliation of their prostrate rival. This calamitous result, which is told in the records of every civilized country, was, however, a work of time; though the progress of discovery was most rapid, and the success which ensued from it most extraordinary, the powers of mankind were limited; and thus, though the great object was individually advanced with incredible swiftness, its general effect was known only in the lapse of years. At the period when the events occurred, which are now about to be related, the knowledge of the discoverers was yet in its infancy, and a laudable ambition was added to the zeal of those who left their native shores in quest of transatlantic fame, in the hope of leaving their names also as beacons for future ages to be guided by, as well as for the purpose of individual aggrandizement. The youthful emperor, Charles V., at this time swayed the sceptres of Germany and Spain, and few were the ports of the latter country which did not witness the departure of some armament every year, for the land of promise beyond the setting sun. It was in the spring of the year 1528, that two tall ships were lying in the offing of the ancient port of St. Lucar de Barrameda, at the mouth of the river Guadalquivir; the sails were bent, and expectation beamed on the countenances of all who waited the arrival of the governor of a colony yet unconquered, and, indeed, but barely known. With the Spaniards, to hear was to decide,-to see was to obtain, and they deemed the far-off province as completely their own, as if they were already reaping the fruits of conquest in the rich display of its wealthy produce. The Spanish government, influenced by the same views which urged the subjects of the crown to spare no personal toil or expense in prosecution of their enterprises, had assigned to the adventurous numbers in all the plenitude of despotism, the most ample rewards in the disposition of the expected prizes, and had bestowed beforehand titles and dignities, the most impressive which could gratify the pride of the eager candidates for honours and riches. This could be the more easily afforded, as the means of equipment of a national undertaking were wanting to the treasury, whose resources were all anticipated by the ambitious projects of the emperor, and undeterred by the consequences which had befallen many of the ill-requited discoverers, numbers were found who gladly devoted their whole private fortunes towards the execution of these schemes. Amongst the foremost of these was a nobleman of ancient family, Don Christoval de Morales, who resolved in the decline of his life to quit his native city of Seville, and extend the dynasty of his illustrious house on the shores of a foreign land. His patrimonial possessions had once been extensive, and even now were sufficient for quietly maintaining the dignity of nobility; but ample as they yet were, the proud descendant of a long line of grandees imagined them unequal to his lofty rank, or seduced by the flattering hope of acquiring the means of establishing himself without dispute, the first in riches as in station, he sought and obtained the title of governor of the newfound coast of Yucatan, and all the adjacent seas and countries hereafter to be subdued under his dominion. A prospect so alluring to one whose character was compounded of ostentation and avarice, could not be rejected, though the sacrifice of personal comfort and present wealth were involved in the remote undertaking. Money, therefore, was raised on his hereditary domains by the sale and mortgage of every thing which could furnish the means of equipment, and two well-formed ships, with crews, arms, and every requisite appointment for conquest or negotiation were speedily procured. In addition to the hired dependants who were destined to accompany the new-made governor, there were many who were led to follow his fortunes from motives and in situations more various. Experienced mariners, well-trained soldiers, enterprising sons of hidalgos, who, doomed otherwise to the cowl, sought an escape from the dread of its monotony in more stirring scenes, and lastly, the brethren of the freck and sandal, zealous in the propagation of the doctrines of St. Dominic among the unenlightened Indians: these were they who formed the motley throng now assembled on the banks of the Guadalquivir, under the command of the Marquis de Morales. There were others, indeed, who require a more particular description, whose fortunes, more intimately connected with those of the governor, have rendered then the principal actors in the eventful scenes which are here narrated. The season was not so far advanced as to render travelling by daylight either fatiguing or unpleasant; and the noonday sun beamed upon a splendid cavalcade which was, at length, descried approaching the town St. Lucar, as the arms and burnished accoutrements of the attendant horsemen glittered on the nearest heights, which rise on the high road to Seville. As the cavalcade approached nearer, the numbers and order of the governor's retinue were more closely scanned. A party of about twenty horsemen, mounted on fleet Andalusian barbs, carne gaily prancing in the van. For defensive-arms they each wore a light cuirass of flexible mail, and a helmet of burnished steel; while a small target of wicker-work, bound with the hides of bulls slain in the arena at Seville, and studded with small brass knobs, hung at the saddle-bow. Their swords were light and of the real Toledo steel; and each cavalier wore on his left shoulder a gay-coloured mantle, and in his right hand grasped a long and taper lance to which was affixed a fluttering bandrol of crimson silk. Fach horseman seemed proudly conscious of the charge which was thus carefully escorted and which followed immediately in the rear. A large and deep carriage, drawn by six mules, profusely ornamented with emblazonry, and curtained by an embroidered silken hanging at each side, formed the chief object of solicitude and attention. The curtains were partially withdrawn and discovered two figures reclining within, one of whom, grave and haughty, with a countenance which (though naturally handsome) was marked by features of inflexible severity, indicated no less a personage than the Viceroy of Yucatan. His figure was commanding, and his manners such as beseemed a grandee of Spain, were cold and reserved; and though men might feel themselves compelled to pay respect to the stately looks and proud bearing of the haughty noble, it was a deference unmixed with any sentiment of love. Far different were the feelings of all who gazed on the female form which was seated by his side; it was that of his daughter, the lovely Inez. A large black veil at present concealed her beautiful features; but it was whispered by day in the cathedral of Seville, and sung under the windows of the Alcazar by moonlight, that no fairer face had ever been seen in Andalusia, since Cava's beauty brought ruin and death upon her country and her king. Her figure was tall; its symmetry perfect; her cheek and brow were pale, and the broad tresses of her hair were of the hue of night. Her eyes' dark charm 'twere vain to tell, But the chief expression of her exquisitely beautiful countenance lay in the "small coral mouth," which though it usually bore a melancholy cast, like that on the lips of Antinous, was yet occasionally lit up by transient gleams of pleasure; like the brilliant iris we sometimes see for a moment between the sun and wave; it came as brightly and was, alas! as evanescent. Her dress was of a rich subdued colour, and a crucifix and long rosary of gold were suspended from her neck, which one hand seemed mechanically occupied in counting, though it may be doubted whether her thoughts were altogether fixed on the religious occupation. Two cavaliers, whose dress denoted them of rank, rode on either side of the carriage; the one nearest the governor, was a man advanced like himself in years, and nearly connected with him by marriage; his name was Don Antonio de Meneses, and he now held the rank of adelantado, or admiral of the small squadron destined for America: soon he hoped to be exchanged for a more extended sway on the shores for which they were about to sail. The other cavalier, whose situation as he rode close to Dona Inez, be tokened his consideration, was a nephew of Don Christoval by a deceased brother's side, and as such intended by him to sustain the dignities and inherit the honours of his distinguished ancestry: the more closely to unite their interests, the hand of Inez was to be the guarantee of the intentions of the marquis, as soon as the maiden had completed her sixteenth year; an event which was yet some six months distant. Don Gaspar was young, and full of the fiery pride which distinguished the young Castilian nobles; but the more active energies of his youth, relieved in him the great degree of coldness and reserve which he inherited from his uncle; but a close observer might discern, that when time should have chilled the ardent inclinations of his spirit, the same repulsive attributes would efface his smile and settle also on his brow. It was evident, that Don Gaspar had hitherto little studied the control of his passions, as the restless glances of his eye, and the contemptuous curl of his lip, bore witness to the little restraint under which he had passed his youth. An air of haughty superiority and a tone of arrogance, which neither the reserve of his uncle, or the gentleness of his fair cousin could at all repress, marked him the favoured counterpart of the marquis, who looked on him as his former self, and the future heir of all his glory; and rendered him still less the being whom Inez in vain sighed for, as worthy to link her destiny with his. Such were the principal characters who formed the group now leisurely approaching the part from whence they were to turn their backs on Spain, "and seek a world elsewhere." In the rear of the carriage rode several armed lackeys, and the maggior-duomo, and duena of the establishment followed close behind; the former on horseback, the latter in a litter; a body of horsemen equipped like those in front completed the procession. Though the expeditions which sailed from Spain were numerous, one of such magnificence as this under Don Christoval was of rare occurrence; and the crowd of gazers was proportionably great. The streets of St. Lucar beheld, therefore, a greater concourse of spectators than had for a long time thronged the spacious Plaza. Here were seen the self-important dignitaries of the town, |