HISTORY OF CENTRAL AMERICA.

CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTION.
SPAIN AND CIVILIZATION AT THE BEGINNING OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

General View—Transition from the Old to the New Civilization—Historical Sketch of Spain—Spanish Character—Spanish Society—Prominent Features of the Age—Domestic Matters—The New World—Comparative Civilizations and Savagisms—Earliest Voyages of Discovery.

How stood this ever changing world four hundred years ago? Already Asia was prematurely old. Ships skirted Africa; but, save the northern seaboard, to all but heaven the continent was as dark as its stolid inhabitants. America was in swaddlings, knowing not its own existence, and known of none. Europe was an aged youth, bearing the world-disturbing torch which still shed a dim, fitful light and malignant odor.

Societies were held together by loyalty to civil and ecclesiastical rulers; not by that coöperation which springs from the common interests of the people. Unhallowed were all things real; divine the unsubstantial and potential. Beyond the stars were laid out spiritual cities, and under foot the hollow ground was dismal with the groans of the departed. Regions of the world outlying the known, were tenanted by sea-monsters, dragons, and hobgoblins. European commerce crept forth from walled towns and battlemented buildings, and peradventure, escaping the dangers of the land, hugged the shore in open boats, resting by night, and trembling amid-ships by day. Learning was chiefly confined to the clergy. Feudalism as a system was dead, but its evils remained. Innumerable burdens were heaped upon the people by the dominant classes who gave them little protection in return. Upon the most frivolous pretexts the fruits of their industry were seized and appropriated by their masters. It was a praiseworthy performance for a hundred thousand men to meet and slay each other to gratify the whim of a state minister or a king's concubine. Then came a change, and by reason of their revised Ptolemies, their antipodal soundings, and new geographies, their magnetic needles, printing machines, and men-killing implements, learning began to revive, and the people began in some faint degree to think for themselves.

Under the shifting sands of progress truth incubates, and the hatched ideas fashion for themselves a great mind in which they may find lodgment; fashion for themselves a tongue by which to speak; fashion for themselves a lever by which to move the world.

TRANSITIONAL EPOCH.

The epoch of which I speak rested upon the confines of two civilizations, the old and the new. It was a transition period from the dim twilight of the dark age to the brightness of modern thought; from an age of unquestioning faith to one of curiosity and scepticism. It was a period of concretions and crystallizations, following one of many rarefactions; religion was embracing science; astrology was merging into astronomy; magic into physics; alchemy into chemistry. Saltpetre was superseding steel in warfare; feudalism having fulfilled its purpose was being displaced by monarchical power; intercourse was springing up between nations, and international laws were being made. Even the material universe and the realms of space were enlarging with the enlargement of mind. Two worlds were about that time unveiled to Spain, an oriental and an occidental; by the capture of Constantinople ancient Greek and Latin learning was emancipated, and the Christian religion became settled as the faith of Europe; while toward the west, the mists of the ages lifted from the ocean, and, as if emerging from primeval waters, a fair new continent ripe for a thousand industries stood revealed.

This was progress indeed, and the mind, bursting its mediæval fetters, stood forth and took a new survey. With the dawn of the sixteenth century there appeared a universal awakening throughout Christendom. Slumbering civilization, roused by the heavy tread of marching events, turned from royal prison-houses of learning, and beheld with wonder and delight the unfolding of these new mysteries. The dust and cobwebs of the past, which had so long dimmed the imagination, were disturbed by an aggressive spirit of inquiry. The report of exploding fallacies reverberated throughout Europe; and as the smoke cleared away, and light broke in through the obscurity, there fell as it were scales from the eyes of the learned, and man gazed upon his fellow-man with new and strange emotions. For centuries men's minds had been chained to the traditions of the past; thought had traveled as in a treadmill; philosophy had advanced with the face turned backward; knight-errantry had been the highest type of manhood, and Christianity, like its founder, had been made to bear the sins of the many. While its friends claimed for it all the virtues of mankind, its enemies charged it with all the vices. The first efforts of scholastics in their exposition of these new appearances was to square the accumulative information of the day with the subtleties of the schools and the doctrines and dogmas of the past. The source of all knowledge and the foundation of all science were claimed to be in the holy scriptures and in the tenets of the church. Any conception, or invention, or discovery that might pass unscathed these two touchstones was denominated truth, though human reason could not grasp it. Likewise, any stray fact which by these tests failed satisfactorily to account for itself, was pronounced false, though human reason declared it true.

I do not mean to say that all darkness and nescience were swept away in a breath, or that knowledge fell suddenly on mankind like an inspiration; it was enough for some few to learn for the first time of such a thing as ignorance. Although the change was real and decisive, and the mind in its attempt to fathom new phenomena was effectually lured from the mystic pages of antiquity, there yet remained enough and to spare of ignorance and credulity. Searchers after the truth yet saw as through a glass darkly; the clearer vision of face to face could be attained only by slow degrees, and often the very attempt to scale the prison-house walls plunged the aspirant after higher culture yet deeper into the ditch; but that there were any searchings at all was no small advance. Shackles were stricken off, but the untutored intellect as yet knew not the use of liberty; a new light was flashed in upon the mental vision, but the sudden glare was for the moment bewildering, and not until centuries after was the significance of this transitional epoch fully manifest. It may be possible to exaggerate the importance of this awakening; yet how exaggerate the value to western Europe of Greek literature and the revival of classic learning, of the invention of printing, or the influence for good or evil on Spain of her New World discoveries?

Rightly to understand the condition of education in Spain in the fifteenth century, we must remember that mental training and not the acquisition of knowledge was the object of education, and as the object to be attained differed greatly from that which we are now seeking, so the result was proportionately different. The tendency of education in the fifteenth century was toward a more determined reliance and belief in authority and in revelation; the tendency of education in the nineteenth century is toward inquiry and scepticism. As to the comparative value of these results there are of course many differences of opinion, and I shall not discuss them here. We may be sure, however, that in whatsoever direction human mind is trained by other human mind, there is ever present and underlying all activities inexorable progress, an eternal unfolding into ever fairer proportions of all that is best and noblest in mankind.

SPANISH HISTORY.

Our history dates from Spain, at the time when Castile and Aragon were the dominant power of Europe. Before entering upon the doings, or passing judgment upon the character, of those whose fortunes it is the purpose of this work to follow into the forests of the New World, let us glance at the origin of the Spaniards, examine the cradle of their civilization, and see out of what conditions a people so unlike any on the globe to-day were evolved.

Far back as tradition and theory can reach, the Iberians, possibly of Turanian stock, followed their rude vocations, hunting, fishing, fighting; guarded on one side by the Pyrenees, and on the others by the sea. Next, in an epoch to whose date no approximation is now possible, the Celts came down on Spain, the first wave of that Aryan sea destined to submerge all Europe. Under the Celtiberians, the fierce and powerful compound race now formed by the union of Iberian and Celt, broken indeed into various tribes but with analogous customs and tongues, Spain first became known to the civilized world. Then came the commercial and colonizing Phœnician and planted a settlement at Cádiz. After them the Carthaginians landed on the eastern shore of the Peninsula and founded Carthago Nova, now Cartagena. The power of the Carthaginians in Spain was broken by the Scipios, in the second Punic war, toward the close of the third century b. c.; and yet, says Ticknor, "they have left in the population and language of Spain, traces which have never been wholly obliterated."

The Romans, after driving out the Carthaginians, attacked the interior Celtiberians, who fought them hard and long; but the latter being finally subjugated, all Hispania, save perhaps the rugged north-west, was divided into Roman provinces, and in them the language and institutions of Rome were established. Forced from their hereditary feuds by the iron hand of their conquerors, the Celtiberians rapidly increased in wealth and numbers, and of their prosperity the Empire was not slow to make avail. From the fertile fields of Spain flowed vast quantities of cerealia into the granary of Rome. The gold and silver of their metal-veined sierras the enslaved Spaniards were forced to produce, as they in succeeding ages wrung from the natives of the New World the same unjust service. The introduction of Christianity, about the middle of the third century, brought upon the adherents of this religion the most cruel persecutions; which, however, instead of destroying it but rooted it the more firmly. Some say, indeed, that Saint Paul preached at Saragossa, and planted a church there; however this may be, it was not until the conversion of Constantine that Christianity became the dominant religion of the Peninsula.

The fifth century opens with the dissolution of the empire of the Romans, for the barbarians are upon them. Over the Pyrenees, in awful deluge, sweep Suevi, Alani, Vandals, and Silingi. The Suevi, in a. d. 409, take possession of the north-west, now Galicia; the Alani seize Lusitania, to-day Portugal; and the Vandals and Silingi settle Vandalusia, or Andalusia, the latter tribe occupying Seville. Blighted by this barbaric whirlwind, civilization droops; the arts and sciences introduced by the Romans fall into disgrace; the churlish conquerors will have none of them; and the culture of ancient Greece and Rome, turning toward its original seat, flees the inhospitable west and takes refuge in the capital of the eastern empire, which thereafter becomes the depository of the wrecks of classic learning. In their dilemma the Romanized indigenes call to their help the less uncouth Visigoths. In 427 the Vandals pass into Africa. Between 455 and 584 the Visigoths conquer the Romans and subjugate the Suevi; so that now their kingdom stretches from the bank of the Loire to Gibraltar. Thus to the Latin is added the Gothic element; the Latin language, corrupted as it had become, gains upon, or rather for the most part holds its original advantage over the Gothic tongue, and becomes the basis of the modern Castilian, with such grammatical simplifications as the northern taste renders necessary.

ADVENT OF THE MOORS.

Still the great Peninsula seethes and bubbles like a caldron over the furnace-fires of its progressional unrest. Two centuries of contentions between states, and between kings and nobles, aggravated by the usual convulsions incident to elective monarchies, suffice to bring upon them a new foe. The crescent of Islam, resting on Mecca and threatening at once the Bosporus and the Pillars of Hercules, flames suddenly out at its western horn over fated Spain. At Algeciras, near Gibraltar, in 711, in great force, the Mauritanian Arabs, or Moors, effect a landing, invited thither by Count Julian, commander of Andalusia, in revenge for the violation of his daughter by Rodrigo, last of the Gothic kings. Routing the Visigoths in the battle of Jerez de la Frontera, in five swift years the Saracens are masters of all save the mountainous north-west; and penetrating Aquitania, the kingdom of the Franks is prevented from falling into their hands only by the decisive victory won by Charles Martel at Tours in 732. An emirate under the caliphate of Bagdad is established at Córdova, and multitudes of Syrian and Egyptian Mahometans flock to Spain. Thus pressed, to the rugged mountains of Asturias, under Pelayo, one of their national heroes, flee such Christians as will not submit. There the wreck of the Visigothic kingdom takes refuge; there stubborn patriots rally and nurse their nationality betimes in the caves of the Pyrenees, waiting opportunity to deliver their country from the yoke of the hated Infidel. In 755 Abdurrahman, the last caliph of the dynasty of Ommiades, having escaped the massacre of Damascus, wrests Spain from the hands of the Abbassides and founds the caliphate of Córdova, which then formed one of the four great divisions of the Prophet's dominions. Moorish kings now take the place of Moorish emirs, and thus is governed Córdova till 1238, and Granada till 1492.

Meanwhile the Mahometans ruled mildly and well. The native Christians living among them kept their religion, churches, and clergy, as well as their laws and tribunals except in cases involving capital punishment, or where a Mahometan was a party in the suit. The usual consequences of race-contact followed; over wide tracts Arabic became the common language, and so remained even after Moslem power had fallen. As late as the fourteenth century public acts in many parts of Spain were written in Arabic. As the result of this intermixture, there was the linguistic medley called lingua franca, a composite of Arabic, Gothic, Latin, Hebrew, and Gallic, with the Romance, or corrupted Latin of Spain, united with the Limousin, the language of the gay science spoken in Languedoc and Provence, as a base. Out of this came the Castilian, which after undergoing various modifications settled into the Spanish language, leaving it substantially in its present form, though refined and polished by subsequent centuries of civilization. It was not, however, until near the reign of Alfonso X., 1252-1282, long after the Christians had emerged from the mountains and had mingled with the reconquered indigenes, that the Castilian became perfectly established as a written, settled, and polite language. Nor were the consequences of Arabic occupation confined to language; they tinged the whole life of the nation.

The Spaniards who under Pelayo had taken refuge in the mountains of Asturias, in 716 founded a small government called the kingdom of Oviedo. There the seeds of liberty, trampled by adversity, took root, and from the patriot soil arose a nation that spread its branches wide over the land. Gradually the Christian kingdoms enlarged. First Galicia, then, two hundred years later, Leon and Castile were added to the little empire. The latter part of the tenth century the kingdoms of Leon, Castile, and Navarre, held the northern extremity of the Peninsula, while all the rest was under the dominion of the caliphate of Córdova.

THE EIGHT-CENTURY WAR.

And now, emerged from the mountain fastnesses whither they had fled before this southern swarm of turbaned Infidels, the sturdy Christians press heavily on their foe. Inch by inch, each step counting a century, they fight their way from the Pyrenees back to Granada. Assuming the title of caliph, Abdurrahman III. defeats the Christians at Zamora on the Douro, but is in turn repulsed, in 938, at Simancas. In vain the Mahometans call to their aid the Almoravides of Morocco; their race upon the Peninsula is run. As portions of the country are wrested from them, lands are awarded to notable Christian leaders, who at intervals pause in their holy crusade, and fall to warring on each other; and by these intestine brawls more Christian blood is spilt than by all the cimiters of the Saracens. At such times the Infidels might turn and make the Christians an easy prey; but centuries of opulence, and, except along their northern border, of inaction, have sapped their strength and left them nerveless. It is the old story alike of peoples, sects, and individuals; discipline, begotten by necessity, engenders strength, which fattened by luxury swells to weakness.

The beginning of the eleventh century finds the Christians occupying about half the Peninsula, that is to say the kingdoms of Leon, Castile, Aragon, Navarre, and Portugal. Leon was but another name for the kingdom of Oviedo, or Asturias, the birthplace of Spanish nationality. Castile—Roman, castella; Arabic, ardo-l-koláa, land of castles, so called from the castillos, or forts, built there—though destined eventually to absorb all the kingdoms of the Peninsula, was at first a republic, consisting of a few small towns or fortified castles, which had united for mutual protection from both Mahometans and contentious Christian brethren. In 1037 Leon was united by Ferdinand I., called the Great, to Castile; and from its central position, and the strength arising from perpetual vigilance, the new kingdom gradually widened and added to its dominions, until eventually all the kingdoms of the Peninsula were united under the banner of Castile. Navarre belonged to a French count, whose successor drove the Saracens from the territory adjacent on the south-west, and founded the kingdom of Aragon.

In 1085 the Cid, a Castilian chieftain, born at Búrgos, and famous in poetry, romance, and war, seized Toledo, and overran Valencia; in 1118 Alfonso of Aragon wrested Saragossa from the Moors. Portugal, hitherto a province of Castile, assumed the title of kingdom in 1139. Finally the four kingdoms of the north, together with Portugal, formed a league against the Infidels, and in a great battle fought in the Sierra Morena, near Tolosa, in 1212, Mahometan power in Spain was effectually broken. In this decisive engagement the Christian confederates were commanded by Alfonso III. of Castile, who never rested till the followers of the Prophet were driven from the central plateau. To the kingdom of Castile, Ferdinand III., 1217-1252, annexed Jaen, Córdova, and Seville, which with difficulty were held by his son Alfonso X., surnamed the Wise—a better scholar than soldier, as we see. Alfonso XI. was succeeded by Pedro el Cruel, who died in 1369.

SPAIN'S GRANDEUR.

A succession of singularly brilliant events, culminating in the empire of Charles V., brought Spain, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, to the front rank among European powers. The marriage of Ferdinand and Isabella, which in 1479 united the crowns of Aragon and Castile; the conquest of Granada in 1492, terminating eight centuries of almost continuous warfare; the discovery of America the same year; the annexation of Naples in 1503, and of Navarre in 1512, after the union of Spain and the Netherlands in the marriage of Juana, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, with Philip the Fair, son of the Emperor Maximilian I., and father of Charles V., all coming in quick succession, form a train of important incidents unparalleled in the history of nations. Before the death of Philip II. in 1598, the empire of Spain extended to every part of the globe—Portugal, conquered by the duke of Alva in 1580; Sicily and Sardinia, Artois and Franche Comté, the Balearic and Canary islands; in Africa—Melilla, Ceuta, Oran, and Tunis; in Asia—the Moluccas and the Philippine Islands, together with several settlements elsewhere; beside a large part of the two Americas, which alone comprised about one fifth of the world.

But nations like men must die. The full measure of prosperity had been meted out to Spain, and now she must lay it down—such is the inexorable law of progress. It was the very irony of autocracy, that one man should rule half the world! Spain's pyramid of greatness, which assumed such lofty proportions during the reign of their Catholic Majesties, culminated during the reigns of their immediate successors. A long line of ambitious and able princes had raised the empire to a giddy height; but with an illiterate and non-progressive populace, no sooner did the rulers become incompetent than the nation fell in pieces. In the height of his grandeur Spain's grandest monarch surfeited of success and abdicated; and with the death of his son Philip the glory of the empire departed. Then might her epitaph be written—Nine centuries of steady growth—a long and lusty youth, more than falls to the lot of most nations—and in three brief centuries more she rose, and ripened, and rotted.

It is not with death, however, but life, we have to do. Intellectual sparks were lighting up the dark corners of the earth, and a series of brilliant epochs began with the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella—modern Golden Ages they might be called. The golden age of Spain, dating from 1474 to 1516, was followed by Germany's golden age, which was during the reign of Charles V., 1519-1558. Then came England with the reign of Elizabeth, 1558-1603; then France under Louis XIV. and Louis XV., 1640-1740; Russia under Peter the Great, 1672-1725; and Prussia under Frederick the Great, 1740-1786. During this time European civilization was bursting its narrow confines and encircling the hitherto unknown world in every direction.

MEASUREMENTS OF CHARACTER.

The Spaniards we would know and judge. We shall judge them, even though we know them not. We love to judge our fellows, and to think how much better are we than they. Little attention we give it, though it is a self-evident proposition, that to judge a people by any other standard than that to which they have been taught to conform is to do them great injustice. If we may believe psychology, thought, in its higher phases, develops only with the development of language; the conceptions of the mind can not rise much higher than forms of speech will enable it to express. Apply this postulate to the measure of character, and the corollary is, that to interpret fairly, we must restrict our imagination to such ideas, our mind to such beliefs, and our tongue to such formulas as belong to those we judge. This, however, is no easy matter. In the present age of intellectual progress and changing activity, when old delusions are being rapidly dispelled by science, and new discoveries are constantly opening new channels to distinction, it is almost impossible to place ourselves within the narrow limits of mediæval restrictions, in which thought and opinion were not allowed to germinate, but were passed unchanged from one generation to another. "It often happens," as John Stuart Mill remarks, "that the universal belief of one age of mankind—a belief from which no one was, nor, without an extra effort of genius or courage, could at that time be, free—becomes so palpable an absurdity, that the only difficulty then is to imagine how such a thing can ever have appeared credible." Not only were the Church dogmas of the Middle Age accepted as truth, but at that time to hold opinions antagonistic to established creeds was seldom so much as deemed possible.

From the foregoing premises it clearly follows, that rightly to measure the character of those who carried European civilization into the wilds of America, we must, in so far as we may, divest ourselves of the present, and enter into the spirit of their times. We must fix in our minds the precise epoch in the history of human progress to which the discovery of this New World belongs. We must roll up four brilliant centuries of the scroll of science, cloud nine tenths of the world in obscurity, throw a spell upon the ocean; then wall the imagination within the confines of this narrow horizon and conceive the effect. We must know something, not alone of national polities and the attitude of kings, but we must enter the society of individuals, and study the impulses of the people. We must call up the inscrutable past, surround ourselves with those influences that give the stamp to character and the color to creed. We must familiarize ourselves with scenes familiar to the people we discuss; we must walk their streets, look through their eyes, think their thoughts; we must personate them and practically construe them. We should fill our breast with the aspirations that impelled them, our imagination with the fears that restrained them, and feel those subtle forces which for generations had been developing intellect and moulding opinion. We should dare even to gain access to their domestic and religious penetralia, to invade the sanctity of the hearth and altar, to sound the hidden chords of domestic life, to walk softly through vaulted aisles and convent corridors, bending the ear to catch the whisperings of the confessional; we should enter with the monk his cloister-cell, with the gallant the presence of his lady-love, and learn whence the significance and whither the tendency of their strange conceits. If, at the outset, with the political position, we also thus firmly grasp their inner social life, much that were otherwise enigmatical or suspicious appears in a clearer light; and we can then behold their chivalrous but cruel deeds with the same charity in which we hope posterity may shroud our own enormities. Thus only may we be led to understand the various processes by which this phase of civilization was evolved.

The configuration and climate of the Peninsula assist in giving variety to the character of its inhabitants. The interior is one vast table-land, higher than any other plateau in Europe, being from two to three thousand feet above the level of the sea. On either side precipitous mountain ranges interpose between the table-land and the shores, and through these numerous streams thread their way. The table-land is for the most part dry and treeless, hot in summer and cold in winter; Asturias is wet and wooded; the valleys of the Guadalquivir, Douro, Ebro, Tagus, and other rivers, are in places quite fertile. In the southern provinces of Andalusia and Murcia, autumn and winter are mild and pleasant, and spring is surpassingly lovely; but the solano which during summer blows from the heated plains of Africa is intolerable to any but the acclimated. From the snow-clad Pyrenees the piercing blasts of winter sweep over Leon, Castile, and Estremadura, at the north protracting the long winter and making cold and humid the spring, and arrive at the middle provinces stripped of their moisture, but not of their raw unwelcome chilliness.

During the eleven convulsive centuries preceding our epoch we have seen mix and agglutinate the several ingredients of Spanish character—Iberian, Celt, Phœnician; Roman, Goth, and Moor, all contributing their quota. Christian, Infidel, and Jew, with their loves and hates, season the mass; and thus society becomes an olla podrida, and Spain presents the anomalous race of the world.

In different provinces different race-elements preponderate, that of Rome tincturing the whole more strongly than any other. Under analysis these several social ingredients may be easily detected. By comparison with Strabo, Arnold traces many of the social characteristics of the Spaniards back to the Iberians. "The grave dress, the temperance and sobriety, the unyielding spirit, the extreme indolence, the perverseness in guerilla warfare, and the remarkable absence of the highest military qualities ascribed by the Greek and Roman writers," he affirms, "are all more or less characteristic of the Spaniards of modern times. The courtesy and gallantry of the Spaniard to women has also come down to him from his Iberian ancestors."

So in the volatile, dark-haired Celt, where reckless courage and indifference to human life reached their height, where quick perception and ready wit supplied the place of sober thought and logical deductions, where man was courageous and changeable, and woman was at once fickle, chaste, and passionate—in these fierce barbarians we see a multitude of traits handed by them to their descendants. Of Phœnician and Iberian influence, traces are seen in their skill in scientific mining; of Gothic, in their comparatively liberal forms of government, their attachment to military display, and in their good faith, integrity, and morality—would these latter had been a trifle more Gothic; of Roman, in their love of ecclesiastical forms, church and state loyalty, in their stately dignity and sobriety of deportment; of Arab, in their hatred of work, their love of freedom, their religious enthusiasm, their tactics in war, and in their language, poetry, art, and architecture. Some of these terms appear paradoxical, but human nature, in its ingredients, is ever paradoxical. In the Spanish language Brace discovers that the principal "terms for agriculture and science are Latin; for the Church, Latin or Greek; for arms, riding, and war, Teutonic; and for arts and plants in southern Spain, Arabic." From the north and east and south the boldest of the nations had congregated on this frontier peninsula, waiting the outburst which, after a thousand years of fermentation, broke over its western slope.

Buckle, in support of a theory referring the origin of character to physical causes, ascribes the superstition of Spain to famine and disease, to earthquakes and the awe-producing phenomena of wild scenery; their fickleness he attributes to climate, the heat and dryness in Spain interrupting labor and leading to desultory habits; their love of romance and adventure he traces to pastoral life, which prevailed to the neglect of agriculture during the Moorish invasion.

EVOLUTION OF THE SPANISH NATION.

The fall of Granada left the Peninsula occupied essentially as follows: In the north and west were the descendants of Goths and Celts who, unmolested by Roman or Moor, retained in a measure their ancestral characteristics. Low of stature, thick-set and awkward, as strong and as hairy almost as bears, the men of Asturias and Galicia, of Leon and Biscay, century after century come and go, living as their fathers lived, neither better nor worse, caring nothing for Arab or Dutchman, and little even for the Spanish kings; proud as ever of Pelayo, of the mountains that cradled Spanish liberty, of their great antiquity, which they boast as greater than that of any living nation; superstitious, irritable, and impetuous, but honest, frank, and sincere; implacable as enemies, but faithful as friends. Their boast is that never have they been subdued by Moor. Their chiefs were of the ancient Gothic blood, blue blood they called it, not being tainted with Arabic like that of their darker southern neighbors; of such material were early founded the kingdoms of Leon and Castile.

On their eastern side was the kingdom of Navarre, founded by the counts of the French marches. Though at one time these two sections had been united, the usual partition of heritage had soon dismembered them. Portugal, an offshoot of Castile, was permanently separated; Aragon, founded by Navarre, became also independent. Upon the eastern seaboard the people of Catalonia and Valencia, though diluted with the Limousin element, yet retain traces of their foreign relationships. "Of the modern evidences of race in the different provinces," says Brace, "travellers tell us that in Valencia the people resemble both their Keltiberian and Carthaginian ancestors, being cunning, perfidious, vindictive, and sullen. The burning sun has tanned their skin dark and aided to form in them an excitable and nervous temperament; they have, too, the superstitious tendencies that characterize the people of a hot climate. The Valencian women are fairer than the men, and are conspicuous for their beauty of form. They wear the hair and the ornaments of the head after the old Romish style. The Catalan is rude, active and industrious, a good soldier, and fond of his independence, resembling both Kelts and Iberians in his covetous, bold, cruel, and warlike character. The Aragonese are two children of the Goths in their force of will, their attachment to constitutional liberties, and their opposition to arbitrary power."

The tall, tough, agile eastern mountaineer presents as marked a contrast to the stubby Asturian as does the sparkling Andalusian to the grave Castilian. For a long time the people of Andalusia were semi-Moorish in their character. There, where the soft air of Africa comes fresh from the Mediterranean, had dwelt the dusky, graceful Arab; worshipping Mahomet as the Castilian worshipped Christ, and regarding his Christian and Jewish neighbors with as little affection as either Jew or Christian regarded him. Scattered along the banks of the Guadalquivir, and in separate quarters of many towns of southern Spain, were bands of that anomalous race, the gypsies. Short, dark, ugly, with long, coarse, wavy hair, mixing with other men as light and darkness mix, they plied their trade of buying, stealing, and selling. During the latter part of the war they occupied themselves in bringing horses from Africa and selling them to Moors or Christians.

In the mountain fastnesses of Toledo there yet lived a remnant of Silingi stock, known as almogávares, who had never bent knee to Infidel; who, throughout the long contest which waged on every side of them, had kept green their liberty and their faith—a Christian oasis in the broad pagan desert. There, too, a broken band of the chosen Israel, now fairly launched upon their eternal wanderings, found a momentary resting-place. Before the arrival of the Visigoths, it is said, a colony of Hebrews planted themselves near Toledo, and by their industry and superior financial ability, became at length the royal bankers, and notwithstanding bitter prejudices, they rose high in influence, even to the honor of having their daughters enrolled among the king's mistresses.

Thus for a time the several parts of the Peninsula differ widely in language, manners, and institutions; but at length, by wars and political combinations, race-barriers are broken down, and opposing clanships welded by an intenser hatred for some common enemy. The south through its Mediterranean trade soonest attains eminence, but warlike Castile subsequently acquires predominance. Meanwhile the masses retain their old ways better than their leaders. The nobility, and frequenters of courts, mingling more with the world, adopt the fashions of courts, and change with their changes. The inhabitants of the border provinces feel the influences of the war comparatively little; upon the great central plateau, however, there meet and mix almost all the stocks and creeds of the then known world. Aryan and Semite; Roman, Goth, and Mauritanian; Mahometan, Christian, and Jew; planting and plucking, building up and tearing down, fattening and starving, fighting and worshipping and burning—the whole table-land of Spain turned into a battle-arena of the nations, into a world's gladiatorial show; its occupants alternately marrying and battling, Moslem with Christian, Moslem with Moslem, Christian with Christian, Christian and Moslem uniting now against Christian and now against Moslem, while the slaughter of Jew, heretic, and gypsy fills the interlude. So pass centuries; and from this alembic of nations is distilled the tall, symmetrical, black-haired, bright-eyed, sharp-featured Castilian and Estremaduran.

RESULTS OF INTERMIXTURES.

Out of this heterogeneous medley of opposing qualities we have now to draw general characteristics.

In demeanor the Spaniard is grave, punctilious, reserved with strangers, jealous of familiarity or encroachment on his dignity; but among his acquaintances, or with those who are ready to recognize what he conceives to be his due, he throws off restraint, and becomes an agreeable companion and a firm friend. While impatient and resentful of fancied slights, he is easily won by kindness, and is always dazzled by skill in arms and personal valor.

In disposition he is serious almost to melancholy, firm to stubbornness, imperturbable, lethargic, inert, moody; yet when roused there breaks forth the deepest enthusiasm and the most ungovernable passion. So punctilious is his sense of honor, so zealous and truthful is he in his friendships, so affectionate and humane in all his private relations, that at one time the term Spanish gentleman was synonymous with everything just, generous, and high-minded throughout Europe. In intellect he is contemplative rather than profound, apt in emergencies, but lacking breadth and depth. In habits he is temperate and frugal, easily satisfied, indolent. To live without work is his ideal of enjoyment. Dissoluteness and intemperance can not be ranked among his vices, nor do travellers place hospitality in his list of virtues. There is no such word as rowdy in his vocabulary. Turbulent from imposition he may be, and after injury vengeful; but brawler, disturber of peace and social order, he is not. Though taciturn, he is deep in feeling; in his love of country he is provincial rather than national. Though hard to be driven he is easily led; acting collectively, officially, he is given to venality, when personally thrown upon his honor he is scrupulous and trusty.

In manners the Spaniard is proverbial for high breeding, courtesy, and decorum. Whether beggar or courtier, his politeness seldom deserts him. "Dios guarde á usted," May God protect you; "Vaya usted con Dios, caballero," God be with you, sir; are the usual valedictions. In reply to the importunities of a beggar the cavalier exclaims, "Perdone usted, por Dios, hermano," For the love of God excuse me, my brother. To the highest noble and to the meanest peasant the greeting is the same. Sedate, sober-minded, reserved, the Spaniard is but the modified result of his several exemplars. "All Spaniards," remarks Ford, "are prodigal to each other in cheap names and titles of honor; thus even beggars address each other as señor y caballero, lord and knight. The most coveted style is excelencia, your excellency." Nicknames are common. No one rises to distinction without carrying with him one or more appellations significant of the skill or occupation of his early days.

CASTILIAN PRIDE AND POLITENESS.

The Castilian has less ingenuity in mechanics, less skill in trade, less taste, less delicacy of perception, than the Italian, but far more pride, firmness, and courage; a more solemn demeanor, and a stronger sense of honor.

Every Spaniard of whatever class considers himself a caballero, a well-born and Christian gentleman, the superior of most, the equal of any, the inferior of none. Profuse in proffers of kindness, he is no less slow to fulfil them than to accept favors from others. He is very vain; vain of personal appearance, vain of his ancestry, his breeding; vain of his ignorance and superstition; proud of many things he should be ashamed of, and ashamed of nothing. Thieving was never prominent as a national vice. As a rule Spaniards are too proud to steal; the impulse of wounded affection or injured pride nerves the arm that strikes, oftener than the desire for plunder.

The old German cosmographer Sebastian Munster quaintly writes, Basel, 1553: "The Spaniards have good heads, but with all their studying they learn but little, for after having half learned a thing they think themselves very wise, and in their talk try to show much learning which they do not possess." Comparing them with the French, the same chronicler says: "The Frenchmen are taller, but the Spaniards more hardy. In war, the Spaniards are deliberate, and the French, impetuous. The French are great babblers, but the Spaniards can well keep a secret. The French are joyous and light of thought; they like to live well; but the Spaniards are melancholy, serious, and not given to carousing. The French receive their guests friendlily and treat them well, but the Spaniards are cross to strangers, so that one must go from house to house in search of entertainment. The cause of this is that Spaniards have travelled little, and do not like to spend their money for food."

In Castile, more than elsewhere, was seen the perfect central type, which in its earlier stages was so remarkable for practical sagacity, for an insight into causes and motives, and skill in the adaptation of means to ends. In the wars of the New World, affirms Macaulay, "where something different from ordinary strategy was required in the general, and something different from ordinary discipline of the soldier, where it was every day necessary to meet by some new expedient the varying tactics of a barbarous enemy, the Spanish adventurers, sprung from the common people, displayed a fertility of resource, and a talent for negotiation and command, to which history scarcely affords a parallel." It must be borne in mind, however, that the New World adventurer was not always a national type.

Graham declares that "the history of the expeditions which terminated in the conquest of Mexico and Peru displays, perhaps, more strikingly than any other portion of the records of the human race, what amazing exertions the spirit of man can prompt him to attempt, and sustain him to endure." And again—"The masses," says Ford, who has studied them well, "the least spoilt and the most national, stand like pillars amid ruins, and on them the edifice of Spain's greatness must be reconstructed." "All the force of Europe," exclaims Peterborough, "would not be sufficient to subdue the Castiles with the people against it."

REVERENCE FOR ANTIQUITY.

So great is their reverence for antiquity, that they appear to live almost as much in the past as in the present. Age is synonymous with wisdom; the older the habit or opinion, the more worthy of belief it is. Innovation they abhor as dangerous; the universe of knowledge stands already revealed; there is nothing more to learn. Their premises they know to be sound, their conclusions correct, their beliefs true; what necessity then for further troubling themselves? Children in everything but teachableness, with themselves and their traditions they are content. Their education is finished. This is the most hopeless form of ignorance. Their legends they carefully preserve, old-time customs they love to practise, and they dwell with devoted enthusiasm on the exploits of their ancestors. To this day, twelve centuries after the occurrence, the peasantry of Asturias are divided between the descendants of those who aided the patriot Pelayo against the Moors, and those who did not—the latter being stigmatized as vaqueros; while the Andalusian Morisco keeps alive the story of Granada's grandeur, and dreams of Moslem warriors, of Abencerrage knights, and the restoration of former greatness. So strong is the influence of tradition and dead ancestry.

Speaking of the quality of firmness, and tenacity of purpose, says Bell, "So obstinate is the Spaniard, and in some provinces so remarkably self-willed, that the inhabitants of one part of Spain make a jest of the others on that account. Thus the obstinate Biscayan is represented as driving a nail into the wall with his head, whilst the still more obstinate Aragonian is figured in the same act and attitude, but with the point of the nail turned outward!" With the poniard at his throat, many a prostrate foe will die rather than yield, and as surely will the victor plunge in the fatal weapon if the cry for quarter be not quickly uttered. In Andalusia there was a fashion prevalent among duellists, when determined to fight their quarrel to the end, of firmly binding together, below the elbows, the left arms of the combatants; then, with knives in their right hands, they fought until one or both were dead.

Notwithstanding their excessive loyalty to their rulers, their love of antiquity and hatred of change; and notwithstanding the oppression of their princes, the condition of the lower classes in Spain at the close of the fifteenth century was far above that of the same class in any other European country. This was owing, not to any special consideration on the part of their political or ecclesiastical rulers, but to that greatest of scourges, war.

While the rulers were absorbed in conquering, and in keeping themselves from being conquered, except within the immediate battle-arena the people were left much alone. Besides, armies must have supplies, and producers were held in esteem by the military consumers.

Inequalities of power and wealth, unless arrested by extrinsic causes, ever tend to wider extremes. In Spain, the increase of wealth in the hands of priests and princes was checked by long-continued war. The products of the country must be used to feed the soldiery, and the power of the nobility must be employed against the common enemy. There was neither the time nor the opportunity to grind the people to the uttermost. Though the war bore heavily upon the working classes, it proved to them the greatest blessing; while the masses elsewhere throughout Europe were kept in a state of feudalistic serfdom, the necessity of Spain being for men rather than for beasts, elevation followed. Further than this, race-contact, and the friction attending the interminglings of courts and camps, tended in some degree towards polishing and refining society. "Since nothing makes us forget the arbitrary distinctions of rank," says Hallam, "so much as participation in any common calamity, every man who had escaped the great shipwreck of liberty and religion in the mountains of Asturias was invested with a personal dignity, which gave him value in his own eyes and those of his country. It is probably this sentiment transmitted to posterity, and gradually fixing the national character, that had produced the elevation of manner remarked by travellers in the Castilian peasant."

CASTE AND SOCIAL STRATA.

And yet there were caste and social stratification enough. The stubborn manliness of the lower orders did not make them noble. Royalty alone was divine. The nobles loved money, yet for them to traffic was disgraceful. The ecclesiastic, whose calling placed him on a plane distinct from these, aside from his religious teachings, stood out as the earnest advocate of honest labor. Work was well enough for Moor, and Jew, and Indian; but he whose line of fighting ancestors had not beginning within the memory of man, must starve rather than stain his lineage by doing something useful.

The several social strata, moreover, were jealously kept distinct. The first distinction was that which separated them from foreigners. In the days of Cæsar and Cicero, Rome was master of the world; Rome was the world; were any not of Rome they were barbarians. So it was with Spaniards. To be of Castile was to be the most highly favored of mortals; to be a Spaniard, though not a Castilian, was something to be proud of; to be anything else was most unfortunate.

The next distinction was between the Spaniard of pure blood and the Christianized native of foreign origin. In the eyes of the Castilian baptism could not wholly cleanse a Moor or Jew. Moriscos the Church might make; heretics the Inquisition might reconstruct; but all Spain could not make from foreign material a Christian Spaniard of the pure ancient blood. About foreign fashions, foreign inventions, foreign progress, foreign criticism, they cared nothing. And probably nowhere in modern times was this irrational idea of caste carried to such an absurd extent as in the New World. Children of Spanish parentage, born in America, were regarded socially as inferior to children of the same parents who happened to be born in Spain. To be born a Spanish peasant was better than hidalgo, or cavalier, with American nativity; for at one time the former, on migrating to America, was entitled by virtue of that fact to the prefix 'Don.' Under the viceroys native Mexicans, though of pure Castilian ancestry, were too often excluded from the higher offices of Church and State; and this notwithstanding that both canonical and civil law, if we may believe Betancur y Figueroa, provided that natives should be preferred in all ecclesiastical appointments from the lightest benefice to the highest prelacy. "But notwithstanding such repeated recommendations," says Robertson, "preferment in almost every different line is conferred on native Spaniards." Mr Ward, English consul at Mexico in 1825-7, affirms that "the son, who had the misfortune to be born of a creole mother, was considered as an inferior, in the house of his own father, to the European book-keeper or clerk, for whom the daughter, if there were one, and a large share of the fortune were reserved. 'Eres criollo y basta;' You are a creole and that is enough, was a common phrase amongst the Spaniards when angry with their children." Truly it was a good thing in those days to be at once 'of Christ' and 'of Spain.' It was positively believed by some that blood flowed in accordance with the majesty of law, and that the quality of one was inferior to the quality of another. The blood of the Indian was held as scarcely more human than the blood of beasts, and was often shed as freely.

Then, too, there was a distinction between the profession of arms and all other professions. Following republican Rome again, the education of no man aspiring to a public career was complete until he had served as a soldier. No one can truthfully charge the Spaniards of the sixteenth century with lack of courage. Military skill was the highest type of manhood. Of danger they made a plaything, not only in their wars but in their sports. Life was dull unless brightened by blood.

In Aragon the barons were limited to a few great families who traced their descent from twelve peers, called ricos homes de natura. Although obliged to attend the king in his wars, in every other respect they were independent. They were themselves exempt from taxation and punishment, and held absolute authority over the lives and property of their vassals. The next lower order of nobility in Aragon was called infanzones, corresponding to the hidalgos of Castile. The caballeros, or knights, were the immediate followers of the ricos homes, and were possessed of important privileges.

In La Mancha the peasantry were of a quality different from those sent by Castile and Estremadura to the New World. Quintana writes of them, "He who travels through La Mancha will see the scaffold before he sees the town. They are lazy, dirty, quarrelsome, and never suffer from hunger, for when they wish to become the owners of anything they take it;" and remarks another, "They live on parched garbanzos, and pass the winter lying on their bellies like reptiles in the sun." See Murillo's matchless pictures.

JEWS AND MOORS.

Another class and race, broken fragments of which we have before encountered, secured more rest in Spain than elsewhere, yet from a different cause. Homeless Israel in the Arab found a friend. Not that the Mahometans loved the Jews, but because the Christians hated them, was their condition made so tolerable in Spain under Saracen rule. Then, and until their expulsion, they occupied an important position, being the chief money-handlers, merchants, and bankers. Overcome in their dislike for each other by a more bitter hatred against their common enemy, the Jews and Moors lived upon terms somewhat approaching equality. The Jews surpassed their Moorish masters in wealth, and were but little inferior to them in arts and letters. They were not only usurers, but husbandmen, artisans, and doctors. As Christian domination extended southward, this comparatively happy state of the Spanish Jews disappeared. Under pretext of justice, their moneys were wrested from them by the nobles; indeed, if too stubborn they were not unfrequently put to death; and with the capitulation of Granada and the loss of their Moorish allies, the condition of the Jews became pitiable in the extreme. Two incidents of the crowning of Pope John XXIII., in 1410, as related by Monstrelet, give us a tolerably fair idea of the feelings entertained toward the Jews. In his progress through Rome, these people presented him with a manuscript copy of the old Testament. He, "having examined it a little, threw it behind him, saying, 'Your religion is good, but this of ours is better.'" And again, "There were before and behind him two hundred men-at-arms, each having in his hand a leathern mallet, with which they struck the Jews in such wise as it was a pleasure to see."

With such an example the condition of the Jews grew more serious. As for the Spaniards, they bettered the instruction, as was sufficiently proved by their expulsion-edict of March, 1492—an edict forbidding unbaptized Jews to be found within the limits of Spain at the end of four months; an edict allowing them in that time to sell their property, but forbidding them at the end of that time "to carry away with them any gold, silver, or money whatsoever;" "an edict," says the Catholic historian, Lafuente, "that condemned to expatriation, to misery, to despair, and to death, many thousands of families born and bred in Spain."

In almost every mediæval town there was a Jewish district, in which, says M. Depping, their historian, "Jews like troops of lepers were thrust away and huddled together into the most uncomfortable and most unhealthy quarters of the city, as miserable as it was disgusting;" or, as Paul Lacroix describes it, "a large enclosure of wretched houses, irregularly built, divided by small streets with no attempt at uniformity. The principal thoroughfare is lined with stalls, in which are sold not only old clothes, furniture, and utensils, but also new and glittering articles." Within their prescribed limits, all their necessities were supplied, and a dirt-begrimed prison-like synagogue usually occupied the center. But even in these wretched places they were often subjected to cruelties the most severe and sickening. Terrible as were the indignities heaped upon this unfortunate people it must not be supposed that they were wholly unprovoked, or that all the forbearance was on the part of the sufferers. Opinions on these questions are widely divergent, and I refer to them here only to show more clearly the condition of Europe at the time of which I write.

THE CHARGE OF CRUELTY.

The Spaniards of the sixteenth century have been called a cruel people; and so they were. Yet they were no more cruel than other nations of their day, and no more cruel relatively, according to the progress of humanity, than are we to-day. Time evolves in many respects a more refined civilization, but the nature of man changes not. Individuals may be less beastly; society may be regulated more by law and less by passion; between nations in their wars and diplomacy there may be less systematic torture, less unblushing chicanery; but the world has yet to find a weightier right than might. I fail to discover in America, by Catholic Spaniards or heathen savages, deeds more atrocious than some committed in India and China within the century by Protestant England, the world's model of piety and propriety; and yet the treatment of Indians in North America by the people of Great Britain has been far more just and humane than their treatment by the people of the United States.

Before such a charge as that of excessive cruelty can be made good against a people, there are several things to be considered. And first the motive. The surgeon who amputates a limb to save a life is not called cruel. Now the Spaniards were the spiritual surgeons of their day. Nine tenths of all their cruelties were committed under the conviction that what they did was in the line of duty, and that to refrain from so doing would have been no kindness. Though with the experience of the past and by the clearer light of the nineteenth century we conclude that these convictions were false, and though we contemplate them with horror and condemn the acts which resulted from them as barbarous, yet it is almost superfluous to say that with their teachings and surroundings we should have been the same. The inherent qualities of human nature seem to be changed but little if at all by the cultivation and development of mind. Secondly, the quality of cruelty is not pronounced, but relative. There are cruelties of the heart, of the sensibilities, no less cruel than bodily tortures. The age of savagism is always cruel. Cruelty springs from ignorance rather than from instinct. Childlike and thoughtless things, things tender by instinct, are cruel from disingenuous perversity. A clouded, unreasoning, unreasonable mind, even when hiding beneath it a tender heart, begets cruelty; while a sterner disposition, if accompanied by a clear, truth-loving intellect, delights in no injustice—and cruelty is always unjust. This is why, if it be true as has been charged, that notwithstanding boys are more cruel than girls, women are more cruel than men. Children, women, and savages are cruel from thoughtlessness; though the cruel boy may be very tender of his puppy, the cruel woman of her child, the cruel savage of his horse. Even the moralities and intellectual refinements of that day were not free from what would seem to us studied and unnecessary cruelty. I will cite a few instances of European cruelty, not confined to Spaniards, which will show not only that Spain was not more cruel than other nations, but that the savages of America were not more cruel than the Europeans of their day. Both tortured to the uttermost where they hated, even as men do now; the chief difference was, the Europeans, being the stronger, could torture the harder. Civilization changes, not the quantity of cruelty, but the quality only.

THE BARBARISMS OF EUROPE.

"Cæsar Borgia," writes Sebastiano de Branca in his diary, about the year 1500, "Cæsar Borgia was the cruelest man of any age." To serve his purposes he did not hesitate to use poison and perjury. He was treacherous, incestuous, murderous, even keeping a private executioner, Michilotto, to do his bidding. Louis XI. of France, and other princes, kept a court assassin. The fifteenth century was lurid with atrocities. Rodrigo Lenzuoli, the father, Lucretia, the daughter, and Cæsar, the son, comprised the Borgia trio, distinguished no less for their intellect, beauty, wealth, and bravery, than for their craft, lust, treachery, and cruelty. Says Lecky: "Philip II. and Isabella the Catholic inflicted more suffering in obedience to their consciences than Nero or Domitian in obedience to their lusts."

In 1415 John Huss was burned for his religion, and in 1431 Joan of Arc for her patriotism. In like manner perished thousands of others. Mahomet II., disputing with the Venetian artist Gentile Bellini as to the length of John the Baptist's neck after decollation, called a slave, and striking off his head with one blow of his cimeter, exclaimed: "There! did not I say yours is too long?"

Princes made bloodshed a pastime. Edward IV. put to death a tradesman for perpetrating a pun; caused a gentleman to be executed for speaking against a favorite; and condemned his own brother to death in a fit of petulance. In an interview between this same Edward of England and the king of France, the monarchs were brought together in huge iron cages, each distrustful of the other. Louis XII. confined Ludovico Sforza, duke of Milan, in an iron cage for ten years, and until his death. This was a punishment common at that time in Italy and Spain. Pedro el Cruel is charged by Hallam with having murdered his wife and mother, most of his brothers and sisters, many of the Castilian nobility, and multitudes of the commonalty.

The church tolerated the persecution of its enemies, believing it was for the glory of God. Nor was this idea confined to Spain or to the fifteenth century, for we find in England and even in America that persecutions for conscience' sake, with all the cruelties that refined civilization could devise existed at the opening of the present century; nor indeed is the world yet completely emancipated from this thraldom.

Yet the Spaniards, I say, were bad enough. The cruelties following the capitulation of Málaga, in 1487, were more befitting fiends than a man and woman who prided themselves in the title of Catholic king and queen.

Since the establishment of the Inquisition, religious persecutions had become but too gratifying to the national taste. On this occasion at Málaga, the apostate Moors were first caught and burned. Twelve apostate Christians were then fastened to stakes in an open place and made the barbarous sport of Spanish cavaliers, who, mounted on fleet horses, hurled at their naked bodies pointed reeds while rushing past at full speed. This was continued until the torn and bleeding flesh of their victims was filled with darts, and the wretched sufferers expired under the most excruciating torments. Then, of the rest of the Moorish prisoners, three divisions were made; one for the redemption of Christian captives, one to be distributed among the victors as slaves, and one to be publicly sold into slavery.

Spanish knights returned from their incursions against the Moors with strings of turbaned heads hanging from their saddle-bows, which, as they passed along, they threw to the boys in the streets, in order to inspire their youthful minds with hatred to the foes of their religion.

From making slaves of prisoners of war, a traffic in human flesh springs up. A slave-trade association was formed in Portugal in 1443. Gonzalez brought slaves to Seville; Columbus sent to Spain a cargo of Indian slaves in 1495; in 1503 the enslavement of American Indians was authorized by Ferdinand and Isabella; and in 1508 the African slave-trade unfolded in all its hideous barbarity. The slave-trade, however, was tolerated by these sovereigns from mistaken kindness, rather than from cruelty. It was to shield the Indian, who died under the infliction of labor, that Isabella permitted the importation of Africans into the colonies.

CIVILIZED TORTURES.

Cruelty was a prominent wheel in the machinery of government, as well as in religious discipline. Torture was deemed inseparable from justice, either as preparatory to trial to elicit a confession of guilt, or as part of an execution to increase the punishment. Hippolite de Marsilli, a learned jurisconsult of Bologna, mentioned fourteen ways of inflicting torture, which are given by Lacroix. Among them were compressing the limbs with instruments or cords; the injection of water, vinegar, or oil; application of hot pitch; starvation; placing hot eggs under the armpits; introducing dice under the skin; tying lighted candles to the fingers which were consumed with the wax, and dropping water from a great height upon the stomach. Josse Damhoudere mentioned thirteen modes of execution or punishment—fire, the sword, mechanical force, quartering, the wheel, the fork, the gibbet, dragging, spiking, cutting off the ears, dismembering, hogging, and the pillory. Every country had its peculiar system of torture.

In 1547 English vagrants were branded with a V and enslaved for two years. Should the unfortunate attempt escape, a hot S was burned into the flesh and he was a slave for life. A second attempted escape was death. In those days wife-whipping was a common and respectable domestic discipline; culprits in the pillory and stocks were stationed in the marketplace where all the people might strike them; prisoners were stripped of their clothes, confined in filthy dungeons half filled with stagnant water, and there not unfrequently left to starve, while slimy reptiles crawled over the naked body, or drove their poisonous fangs into the quivering flesh.

The sports of the Spaniards we now regard as cruel, as ours will be regarded four hundred years hence. Although delighting in games, in pantomimic dance, in fencing, wrestling, running, leaping, hunting, hawking, with the gentler pastime of song and guitar, the more popular amusements were cock-fights, dog and bull fights, bull and bear fights, bear and dog fights, enjoyed alike by high and low, by women, boys, and men, by laity and clergy. Sometimes fighters would enter the arena blindfolded and engage in deadly encounter. Yet how much more cruel were these sports than modern horse-racing, cock-fighting, dog-fighting, prize-fighting, rope-walking, lion-taming, steeple-chases, to say nothing of the more gentlemanly cruelty of raising foxes to be hunted, and worried, and finally torn in pieces by dogs, let posterity judge. I do not say that the sixteenth-century sports of Spain were not more cruel than the English sports of to-day. I think they were. But that Spaniards were inherently more cruel, that is to say, that their hearts were more wickedly wanton, their sympathies more inhumane, or that they enjoyed a more ardent pleasure in inflicting pain upon others than men do now, I do not believe. The Spaniards were a nation of soldiers, and soldiers are necessarily cruel. Men go to war to hurt the enemy, not to be kind to him. Unquestionably the effect of bull-fights, like the gladiatorial shows of imperial Rome, was debasing, tending to excite a love of the bloody and terrible, and to render insipid tamer and more refined amusements. This to them was a misfortune, although the repulsive sport did foster a spirit of courage and endurance.

The corrida de toros, bull-run, or bull-fight, the national sport of Spain, is a relic of Moorish chivalry, yet no less Spanish than Arabic; for the institution as it exists in Spain is found neither in Africa nor in Arabia. Originally, as in the ancient tournament, in the sport engaged only cavaliers, or gentlemen, in whom were combined such skill and strength that the head of a bull was sometimes stricken off by a single blow of the montante. Since which time the tournament has degenerated into a prize-ring, and the chivalrous bull-fight which in principle was a display of courage combined with skill in horsemanship, and in the use of the lance, has become a sort of dramatic shambles, where the actors are low-born and mercenary professionals.

SPANISH DOMESTIC LIFE.

The home life of the Spaniard, which pictures his softer shades of character, and shows the more delicate tracings of his mental and moral sensibilities, must not be disregarded. There alone we shall see him as he is, stripped of the paraphernalia attending his appearance before men, with the intents and purposes of heart and mind laid open before us.

We have noticed how the genius of the Mahometan clung to the soil long after he was driven away; to this day southern Spain is more Arabic than Gothic. The towns of Andalusia—of which Cádiz, with its whitewashed antiquity and its streets and walls clean as a taza de plata, is the key; and Seville, radiant with sunny gardens and glittering towers, is the pride—consist of narrow, tortuous streets walled by Moorish mansions enclosing cool courts. Shutterless windows, through which half-muffled lovers whisper soft nothings to bar-imprisoned señoritas, open without; fresh young love and musty antiquity thus mingling in harmonious contrast. Then, favored by the voluptuous air of spring, or broiling beneath the enervating heat of summer, are Granada, Córdova, and Málaga, where glory and shame, heroic virtue and unblushing vice, erudition and ignorance, Christianity and paganism were so blended that the past and present seem almost one. As if proud of their Moorish origin, these cities of southern Spain battle with time, and hold in fast embrace the shadows of departed grandeur. The better class of Moorish houses are yet preserved; and the otherwise unendurable heat of this so-called oven of Spain is rendered supportable by the narrow, crooked streets—so narrow, indeed, that in some of them vehicles can not pass each other—and by the irregular, projecting stories of the terrace-roofed houses.

Though widely separate in their religious systems much there is alike in the national characteristics of these grave and haughty sheiks and the Spaniards. To both were given conquest, wealth, and opportunity. Both struggled blindly and bravely, sinking into national decay and corruption, which closed in around them like a pestilence. But in their religion there was no doubt a difference. One was sensual, the other spiritual. In one were the seeds of progress, of intellectual culture, and of all those enlightenments and refinements which make men more fit to dominate this earth. And though the Allah akbar echoes from the receding hosts who worship God and his prophet, yet its mission is fulfilled. Where now is the might of Mauritania? Where the power and pride that caused Egypt to dream again of the days of the Pharaohs and the Ptolemies? Syria and Palestine are desolate, Bedouinized. To Bagdad remains but the memory of ancient splendor; her palaces are heaps. No more the good Haroun al Raschid walks her streets; no more the universities of Kufa and Bassora, Samarcand and Balkh enlighten the world. The sons of Hagar have had their day; their work is done. What Spain and her colonies now are need not here be told.

DWELLINGS AND FURNITURE.

Every Spanish town has its plaza, great square, or public market-place, which every day presents a busy scene. Thither in early morning resort the improvident—though not specially lazy—common people for their daily supply of food. Then there is the paseo, or public promenade, or, as it is more frequently called, the alameda, from álamo, poplar, a beautiful walk, shaded on either side by trees. There may be seen every pleasant day after the siesta, or midday sleep, groups of either sex, and all classes, high and low, rich and poor, walking to and fro, chatting, smoking, flirting, drinking in health and content and merriment with the cool, delicious evening air; while ladies in carriages and cavaliers on curveting steeds occupy and enliven the roadway.

Numberless kinds of dwellings obtain in various parts, conspicuous among which are the Asturian caverns, the subterranean abodes of La Mancha, the forts of Castile, and the Moorish palaces of Andalusia. Stone, hewn and unhewn, is the material employed in mountainous districts; adobe, or sun-dried brick, with thatched roof, upon the plains. A common class of architecture is a windowless parallelogram divided into two rooms, one for the family, and the other for the cattle, the attic being used as a barn. Houses of this kind are built in one and two stories. An out-house for stores, which is also used as a sleeping-place for the women, perched on pillars eight feet high, sometimes stands adjacent. Across one end of the family room, which, of necessity, is used for all domestic purposes, extends a fire-place, ten or fifteen feet in length and six feet in depth, over which is a large bell-shaped chimney extending out into the middle of the room. This style of building might be elaborated, wings added, or the form changed. Tiled roofs are common, and overhanging eaves. Some houses are of three or four stories; others run out long and low upon the ground. More pretentious dwellings are often in the form of a hollow square, with a patio and garden within. Of such are convents with cloisters, and over them ranges of corridors and rooms.

Among the upper classes the apartments of the lady consist of an antechamber, or drawing-room, a boudoir, a bed-room, a dressing-room, and an oratory. The drawing-room is furnished with tapestry hangings on which are represented battles and biblical scenes—war and religion even here; polished oak or mahogany high-backed chairs, clumsy, and elaborately carved; in the corners of the room triangular tables on which stand heavy silver or gold candlesticks with sperm candles, the light from which is reflected by small oval Venetian mirrors, in fantastically wrought gold or silver frames; cupboards with glass doors for plate, etc. In the boudoir is a toilet-table before Venetian mirrors profusely draped in handsome lace; a book-case, work-table, arm-chairs, sacred paintings and family portraits; in the sleeping-room, a tall heavy bedstead with damask or velvet curtains, a crucifix—the image of silver or gold, and the cross of ivory—with a little basin of holy water near it, a priedieu and prayer-book; in the dressing-room a wardrobe, and all necessary toilet appliances; in the oratory an altar, a crucifix, two or more priedieux, and, if mass is said, as is often the case in the houses of the great or wealthy, images of saints by the masters, with all the accompanying ornaments of devotion.

The dwellings of southern Spain, large and small, lean toward the Arabic in architecture—Arabic decorations, with second-story balconies; the rooms rich in carved ceilings, wainscoting, and arabesque; the entrance from the street in city houses being through a vestibule and an ornamented iron-grated gate. During the summer, when the sun's rays strike like poisoned darts, the family live for the most part in the patio. There upon the marble pavement, beside the cooling fountain, and amidst fragrant orange, palm, and citron trees, visitors are received, chocolate drank, and cigarettes smoked. There too they dance to the music of the guitar, play cards, and take their siesta.

To oriental customs may be attributed the jealous privacy by which the women of Spain were guarded by husbands and fathers. Besides her natural weakness, woman was yet inferior, inept, characterless, not to be trusted. The fortress-like houses of the better sort, which are scattered all over the table-land of the Peninsula, with their spacious inner court and iron-barred windows, were so arranged that the part occupied by the female members of the household was separate from the more public rooms of the men. This precinct was unapproachable by any but the most intimate friend or invited guest. Their domestic policy, like every other, was suspicious and guarded.

This is further illustrated by the mode of entering a house, which also shows the effect of centuries of warfare upon manners. In outer doors, and in those of distinct floors, and apartments, was inserted a small grate and slide. On knocking, the slide moved back, and at the grating appeared the lustrous, searching eyes of the inmate. "Quien es?" Who is it? was the salutation from within. "Gente de paz." Peaceful people, was the reply.

WOMEN AND DRESS.

Extreme sensitiveness with regard to dress characterizes Spaniards of the better sort, and rather than appear in public unbecomingly attired, they remain hidden at home, only stealing out for necessities at nightfall, or perhaps in the early morn, and then back to their home for the day. In this we see a strong mixture of pride and bienséance, in which there is more sensitiveness than sense. But man can not live by reason alone. He who in this factitious world is guided only by the instincts of a sound mind, regardless of the frivolities of fashion, of convenance, indifferent to his neighbor's ideas of propriety, and to any taste except his own, commits a mistake. Though he alone is wise, and all the world fools, yet of necessity he must become foolish, else he is not wise.

Males, in their costume, were the birds of gay plumage at the beginning of the sixteenth century. So fantastically clad was the English nobleman in his laced doublet and open gown, that he was scarcely to be distinguished from a woman. In the time of Charles V. courtiers dressed in bright colors, but with his sombre son Philip, all was black—black velvet trimmed with jet; and stiff—stiff collars, and stiff black truncated cone hats, with brim scarcely an inch wide, in place of the soft slouchy sombrero.

THE MANTILLA AND CAPA.

The national and characteristic garment of both sexes in Spain for about three centuries was, for the outer covering, the capa, or cloak, of the cavalier, and the mantilla of the lady. In the reign of Charles V. the former was a short cape, and the latter simply a head-dress; but with time both enlarged until one reached below the knee, and the other below the waist. Some writers give to these garments a remote antiquity. They point to ancient coins where Iberia is represented as a veiled woman, and ignoring sex claim that to the Iberians the Romans gave the toga, and that for fifteen centuries the fashion continued. Others deny such connection. It is undoubtedly true that the capa of the sixteenth century was much shorter than the cloak of to-day, being a cape rather than a cloak, and not at all resembling the Roman toga. Sebastian Franc in his Weltbuch, Tübingen, 1534, writes: "Their women wear a curious dress around the neck; they have an iron band to which are fastened bent prongs reaching over the head, over which, when they desire it, they draw a cloth for the protection of the head, and this they hold to be a great ornament." To the men and women of Spain this garment is as the shell to the turtle; within it, though on a crowded thoroughfare, they may at any moment retire from the world, and ensconce themselves within themselves. The cavalier with a peculiar fling, utterly unattainable by a foreigner, throws the skirt over the breast and shoulder so as to partially or completely hide the face according to his pleasure. On the way to and from church the lady's face is covered; and the gallant sighing for a glimpse of features divinely fair, is obliged to enter the sanctuary, hide behind a column near the altar; then as one female after another approaches, kneels, and unveils, he may feast his eyes on the faces before him. The mantilla serves as a bonnet, veil, and shawl; formerly it was but an oblong piece of cloth, with velvet or lace border; later a lace veil was added as part of it; and now the Spanish female face is becoming more and more visible in public.

The capa is indispensable to the Spaniard; it fits his nature like a glove, and is almost a part of him. It may be worn over a rich dress, or it may conceal rags or nakedness; it may cover a noble, generous heart, or a multitude of sins. Hidden beneath it, in secret the wearer may work out his purpose, though in the market-place. It keeps out the cold; it may hide the assassin's dagger; it serves as a disguise in love intrigues, and is a grateful protection from importunate creditors. Twisted round the left arm, it is a shield; at night, it is a bed; and with a sword, capa y espada, it not unfrequently constitutes the entire earthly possessions of the haughty, poverty-stricken cavalier. Whatever be the character or condition of the wearer, dignity is lent him by its ample folds, and comeliness by its graceful drapery. It is an unpardonable breach of decorum for a muffled cavalier to address a person, or for any one to speak to him while so muffled. Politeness teaches him to throw open to his friend both his garment and his heart, that it may be plain that no concealed weapon is in the one, or malice in the other. A son dare not speak to his own father when his face is covered by his cloak.

The peasantry flaunted the gayest and most picturesque attire on holiday occasions; the majo, a rustic beau, wore a figured velvet waistcoat with square velvet buttons, and brilliant with colored ribbons; embroidered stockings, silver-buckled shoes, and a colored capa thrown gracefully over the left shoulder. The dress of Fígaro in the play, is that of an Andalusian dandy. The costume of Valencia is more Asiatic, or Asiatic-antique it might be called, partaking somewhat, as it does, of the ancient Greek costume—wide linen drawers, linen shirt, hempen sandals, footless stockings, wide red woollen belt, gay velvet jacket with silken sash, with a colored capa over all. The long hair is bound by a silken band in the form of a turban. The female peasant dress is no less showy; a red velvet bodice, with scarlet or purple petticoat, all profusely embroidered, a gay-colored square-cut mantilla fastened by a silver brooch, with chains and jewels and colored stones according to the purse of the wearer.

VARIOUS COSTUMES.

The ordinary peasant dress of Estremadura consists of wide cloth knee-breeches, closely resembling those of the Moors, a gabardine of cloth or leather, and cloth leggings. The men wear the hair long. The women have a fashion of putting on a great number of petticoats; the rustic belles of Zamarramala, a village of Estremadura, manage to carry from fourteen to seventeen. In Andalusia the men have short jackets ornamented with jet or steel beads, knee-breeches, and highly ornamented leathern leggings; the women wear short embroidered and flounced petticoats, and a Moorish sleeveless jacket embroidered with gold or silver and laced in front. Asturian peasants have wooden shoes with three large nails in the soles, which keep them from the ground; leathern shoes they frequently carry in their travels, and to and from church, under their arms, or on their heads, putting them on just before entering the village or church. The women wear ear-rings and necklaces of glass imitation of coral; a handkerchief, folded triangularly, covers the head; at funerals, a large black mantle is worn. The Castilians wear sandals, called abarcas, tied to the ankle by narrow strips of rawhide. The Estremadurans wear a hat, very broad-brimmed; the Catalonians, a red Phrygian cap; the Valencians, a kind of Greek cap; the Asturians, a three-cornered black or dark blue cap with velvet facings; the Biscayans, a flat red woollen cap; the Andalusians, a turban-like hat, or a silk handkerchief. In Aragon, as well as in some of the southern provinces, the broad-brimmed slouching sombrero obtains. Hats were invented by a Swiss, Pansian, in 1404, and a Spaniard first manufactured them in London in 1510. Jews in Spain were obliged to wear yellow hats; in Germany bankrupts, in like manner, were required to wear hats of green and yellow.

The general costume of a Spanish nobleman consisted of a silk gabardine, with sleeves close-fitting at the wrist but puffed and slashed between the elbow and shoulder so as to show the fine linen shirt beneath; chamois-skin doublet, thick but flexible; silk hose, and silk trowsers slashed; long bell-shaped boots with golden spur-supporters; broad, polished leathern belt, from which hung a long sword on the left side, and a long dagger in a leathern or velvet scabbard on the right; a round, soft, broad-brimmed beaver hat, with an ostrich-feather fastened by a diamond brooch on the side or in front; a cape or cloak embroidered or laced with gold or silver thread, fastened with cord and tassel, and worn hanging from the left shoulder, or thrown around the body so as to cover part of the face. Within doors, the cloak was laid aside; a velvet doublet was substituted for the leathern one; and instead of boots, shoes of leather or velvet, slashed over the toes, were worn. The dress of the lady was a heavy, flowing brocade or velvet skirt, open in front, displaying an underdress of light silk or satin; a chemisette with slashed sleeves; a stomacher with long ends hanging in front, and a velvet sleeveless jacket laced with gold or silver cord. The breast was covered with lace, and the neck and shoulders were bare, except when covered by the toca, a kind of head-dress, out of which by elongation grew the characteristic mantilla. Her shoes were of velvet, her stockings of silk or wool; from the waist on the right side hung a reticule, a silver or gold whistle for calling servants, and a poniard. Her dueña wore a black skirt, and a large black mantle completely covering the head, face, and shoulders down to the waist. Swords formed no part of domestic dress prior to the fifteenth century.

Black was the color of the church, certain clerical orders excepted. Those of the learned professions wore black. The ladies usually attended church in black, and indeed were sometimes seen in sombre hues upon the alameda. Black robes and a canoe-shaped hat covered the Basque priest; and the friar, sackcloth and gray, bound round the waist with a twisted cord. Alguaciles, or constables, followed the ancient cavalier costume—broad-brimmed hat, black cloak, short knee-breeches, black stockings, silver-buckled shoes, Vandyke ruffles, and white lace collar. This in the Basque provinces only. Friars appeared in a hooded robe, extending to the ankles, over woollen breeches and jacket. A cord was tied round the waist from which hung a rosary. Hempen or leathern shoes were worn, and by some orders broad hats. The robe of the friar was of coarse wool; that of the clergyman serge, with a cloak, low leathern shoes with buckle, black stockings, knee-breeches, a white collar, and a black hat with broad brim turned up at the sides. The robes of vicars, parish curates, and other church dignitaries were of silk. The Franciscan's robe was of a yellowish gray color, the Dominican's white, the Carmelite's reddish gray, the Capuchin's silver gray, the Jesuit's black. The bishop's color was violet, the cardinal's red or purple.

Domestic routine in Spain, with allowances for class, season, and locality, was substantially as follows. The noble or wealthy master of a household was served before rising with chocolate, which service was called the desayuno. He then rose and dressed; after which, kneeling before the crucifix, he said a prayer; then he proceeded to the avocations of the day, taking las once, or the eleven o'clock luncheon of cake and wine, either at home or at the house of a friend, or wherever he happened to be. After a twelve or one o'clock dinner came the siesta. At five o'clock there was to be eaten the merienda, consisting of chocolate, preserved fruit, and ices; and between nine and eleven, supper. In the private chapel of the grandees mass was said. The middle class usually attended church about sunrise; after which breakfast, and at noon dinner.

EXCESSIVE RELIGIOUS TRAINING.

The religious training of children was excessive. At daybreak the angelus was recited, then to chapel or church to mass, after which the child might breakfast; at noon angelus and dinner; after the siesta vespers at church, and rosary at home; at six o'clock angelus and chocolate; prayers at eight; supper at nine; after which more prayers and to bed. The child was expected to attend all these devotions, the night prayer perhaps excepted, the youngest children being sent to bed after the rosary. And this not alone Sunday, but every day.

A national dish, centuries old, common to Spain and all Spanish countries, called the olla podrida, constitutes a staple food with almost all classes. It is made of meat and vegetables boiled together, but usually served in two dishes, and its constituents depend upon the resources of the cook, for everything eatable is put into it that can be obtained. Beef, mutton, pork, and fowl; beans, peas, potatoes, onions, cabbage, and garlic; the water in which the mess is boiled is served as soup with rice or bread, and the two courses constitute the whole of every meal of the lower classes. On the tables of the wealthy, after the olla podrida, fish, roast meats, and a profuse dessert of sweetmeats, jellies, preserves, and bonbons are served. The Andalusians make a salad of cucumbers, tomatoes, lettuce, green-peppers, chiccory, with oil, vinegar, salt, pepper, and stale bread, which with them is a staple dish, called gazpacho.

It was a gluttonous, sensual age, that of the century preceding our epoch; but from these vices Spain was probably more free than any other civilized nation of Europe. There the discipline of war absorbed the attention which elsewhere was given to luxurious living. We find nothing in Spain such as we are told about in England, where the households of the great were composed of brawling retainers, ill-mannered clowns, and riotous serving men and women who terminated many a feast with bloodshed; where guests snatched and scrambled for food, gorging themselves with whatever they could lay hands on; where drunken broils were of daily occurrence, and the master of the household was not unfrequently obliged to sheath his sword in the body of some contumacious servant grown dangerous by the unbridled license in which he had been indulged.

What shall we say of the monks and cardinals now grown fat from the well filled coffers of the Church? With their wealth in some instances they had grown sensuous and extravagant. Their cupboards were loaded with rich viands, in which they freely indulged; and their tables were surrounded by musicians and all the luxuries and delicacies the world could contribute. Not to the faults of the few, however, would we call too much attention, but to the virtues of the many; for during these dark years of ignorance and voluptuousness the Church was planting and watering the seeds of the sanctity of marriage and domestic life in Spain, and surrounding the family altar with so many safeguards among her people, that the long ages since have not sufficed to dispel nor destroy them. The wealthy families of Spain had their court jesters, but coarse buffoonery or indecent jests were seldom tolerated.

FOOD AND FILTHINESS.

Two persons often ate from one plate, using their fingers for forks. A sheath-knife, or dagger, which they carried upon the person, served to cut the food. Among the first books printed in Venice was a folio volume on cookery, issued in 1475. In the English metrical Stans Puer ad Mensam, following Wright, the guest is told to "bring no knyves unskoured to the table;" in other words, his sheath knife should be clean, and he is also informed that polite persons will not pick their teeth with it while at table. It was considered a breach of good manners to blow the nose with the same fingers used in conveying food to the mouth. Hats were worn by the men, and head-dresses by the women, on all domestic occasions. In France, the metrical Contenances de Table, or manual of table manners, shows but little more refinement there than elsewhere. Among other directions the reader is told first to examine his seat whether it be clean:

"Enfant, prens de regarder peine

Sur le siege où tu te fierras,

Se aucune chose y verras

Qui soit deshonneste où vilaine."

He is forbidden to spit upon the table while at dinner:

"Ne craiche par dessus la table

Car c'est chose desconvenable."

Or to spurt water from his mouth into the basin used in common by the company:

"Quant tu bouche tu laveras

Ou bacin point ne cracheras."

Or leave sops in his wine glass:

"Se tu fais souppes en ton verre

Boy le vin ou le gette à terre."

But by implication he may spurt and throw remnants on the floor, as much as he pleases.

Even in their use of tobacco, of which they are excessively fond, the Spaniards are temperate. Though they smoke it almost constantly, it is in such small quantities, and in so mild a form, that tobacco does them less injury than it inflicts on many other nations. It was the custom to carry a daily supply wrapped in a lettuce or cabbage leaf to preserve it moist. The cigarette was prepared for smoking by taking a small quantity of tobacco, finely cut, rolling it in a piece of corn-husk or paper, and lighting with flint, steel, and punk. Though the tobacco may be strong, prepared in this way the effect is less injurious than when rolled in larger quantities into a cigar, or cut from a plug and smoked from a pipe or chewed.

Noble youths of both sexes were accustomed, to serve a sort of apprenticeship for a number of years in the king's household. In like manner the sons and daughters of gentlemen served in the houses of the nobility, and common people in the houses of gentlemen, that each might be benefited by the knowledge and refinement of his superior.

Spaniards, as I have said, are called inhospitable; but this charge must be taken with allowance. Every phase of human nature has its generous quality; locked in every heart is a wealth of kindliness which opens to him who holds the key. By nature these people are reserved, suspicious. They carry no window in their breast. In their domestic affairs they are specially reticent before strangers. Their wives and daughters they hide away; their troubles they cover within the ashes that preserve them; their sensibilities shrink from cold contact with the world. If some find certain Spaniards at given periods inhospitable, others at other times and places find them very generous. In early times inns were not common in Spain, and we are told that in certain places every private house had its guest's quarters consisting of one or more rooms according to the opulence of the owner. To this apartment every stranger of whatsoever degree was welcome. There he lived as long as he pleased, fed and cared for by the host; and—you may call it pride—if through poverty provisions grew scarce, the family would undergo the greatest privation rather than the guest should suffer want, or be forced to hasten his departure. Furthermore all was free; to offer pay for entertainment was deemed an insult, though a present might be given and accepted.

AMUSEMENTS.

While called a melancholy people, amusement appeared at times to be the life of the nation. Royalty and religion at rest, peace here and hereafter secured, there was nothing more of life than to enjoy it. To labor when one might repose; to sigh when one might sing; to undergo the pains of culture when sweet pleasure temptingly proposed a holiday—ah no! Fools attempt to better their condition and make it worse. Let those who need improving scour themselves; we know enough.

So lazily lapped in stupidity, beside their feast-days and bull-fights, their passions and passion-plays, they lolled upon the greensward and danced to tambourine and castanets, and wrestled, and ran races; they fenced, fought, played cards, shook dice, and enlivened home monotony by all sorts of games and gymnastic exercises. Dancing was carried to such excess as to lead to dissoluteness and occasional death, even as it does to-day. The dances of the peasantry in many instances bear a striking resemblance to those of the native races of America. In Asturias, men, and sometimes men and women, form a circle joining hands by the little finger. A leader sings in plaintive monotone a description of some Spanish feat of arms prior to the eleventh century, or of a tournament of later days, or of some unhappy love adventure, or of a thrilling incident in the conquest of America. At the end of every strophe, all sing in chorus the refrain which sometimes terminates in an invocation, as for example, May Saint Peter be with me! May the Magdalen protect us! The dance is a long step forward, and two short steps backward and laterally to the right, so that the circle keeps constantly moving in that direction, meanwhile keeping time to the music with arms as well as feet. These dances take place on Sunday afternoons, and on feast-days, and when the priest is present men and women are separated in the dance. The fandango, danced by two persons with castanets to the music of the guitar, is peculiar to the south of Spain.

Between the eras proper of tournaments and bull-fights, a species of tilting called correr la sortija was greatly in vogue. A gold finger-ring was suspended by a thread from the top of a pole, and at it charged the cavalier with lance in rest and horse at full speed. The smallness of the object, its constant motion, and its proximity to the pole rendered it an exceedingly difficult feat to accomplish.

Cards and dice were at this time in the height of their fascination. Every class, age, profession, and sex were filled with a passion for gambling—a most levelling vice, at this juncture, bringing in contact noble and commoner, knight and squire, women, servants, and trades-people. An English poet about the year 1500 thus laments the degeneracy of the nobles:

"Before thys tyme they lovyd for to juste,

And in shotynge chefely they sett ther mynde;

And ther landys and possessyons now sett they moste,

And at cardes and dyce ye may them ffynde."

From her low estate of mediæval drudge or plaything, woman was lifted by the exaltation of the Virgin,—lifted too high by chivalry; then fell too low with the sensual reaction. Finally, after many waverings, she rises again, and in the more favored spheres takes her rightful place beside her lord, his confidant and equal. At the time of which I write, however, she was less respected than now, and hence less respectable; less trusted, and consequently less trustworthy. Her virtue, fortified by bolts and bars at home, was watched by servants abroad. Falling into the customs of the invaders during Moslem domination, Castilian ladies became more and more retired, until the dwelling was little better than a nunnery. The days of tournaments, and jousts, and troubadours were over, and indifference succeeded chivalric sentimentality.

FEMALE CHASTITY.

Seldom has Spanish society been conspicuous for its high moral tone. Female chastity was an abstract quality, the property of the father or husband, rather than an inherent virtue for the safe-keeping of which the female possessor was responsible. The master of a household exercised sovereign authority therein, claiming even the power of life and death over the members of his family. He was addressed in the third person as 'your worship;' sons dare not cover their head, cross their legs, or even sit in his presence unless so directed; daughters were betrothed without their knowledge, and to men whom they had never seen; the selection of a husband rested entirely with the father, and the daughter had only to acquiesce. Female decorum and purity were placed under espionage. A dueña kept guard over the wife and daughter at home, and closely followed at their heels whenever they stepped into the street. Ladies, closely veiled, marched solemnly to church, preceded by a rodrigon, or squire, with cushion and prayer-book, and followed by a dueña. At service, her place was in front, and men took up their station behind her. Teach woman first that she is inferior, next that she is impotent; add to this intellectual inanity and implied moral unaccountability, and you have a creature ripe for wickedness.

This excess of caution defeated its own purpose. Women, left much alone within their cloister-like homes, waited not in vain for opportunity. The gay mistress could often too easily win over her attendant, and make of her dueña a go-between; yet if we may believe the record, infidelity was rare, and for two reasons. First, woman in her seclusion escaped many temptations; and secondly, a wholesome fear, the certainty that vengeance, swift and sure, would follow the offence, resulting in the death of one or both offenders, placed a curb on passion. Females of the lower classes, left alone to take care of their virtue as best they might, with faces open and actions free, were less given to transgression than their wealthier sisters.

Lewd women could not testify in criminal cases. Respectable women were permitted to testify, but the judge was obliged to wait on them at their homes, as they were not allowed to attend court. Learning to write was discouraged in females, as they could then have it in their power to scribble love-letters to their gallants. Queen Isabella did much to elevate and purify both religion and morals. The court of Enrique IV., her predecessor, has been described as but little better than a brothel, where "the queen, a daughter of Portugal, lived openly with her parasites and gallants, as the king did with his minions and mistresses." Maids of honor were trained courtesans, and the noblemen of the court occupied their time in illicit amours and love intrigues. From the king on his throne to his lowest subject, all who could afford it kept a mistress.

Ware states that within a century the widows of Madrid were "compelled to pass the whole first year of their mourning in a chamber entirely hung with black, where not a single ray of the sun could penetrate, seated on a little mattress with their legs always crossed. When this year was over, they retired to pass the second year in a chamber hung with grey." This savagism is paralleled by the Thlinkeets of Alaska, who at certain times confine women in a little kennel for six months, giving them one a size larger for the second six months; likewise by the Tacullies of New Caledonia, who make the widow carry the deceased husband's ashes upon her back in a bag for one or two years.

EUROPEAN SOCIETY IN GENERAL.

A glance at English and French society shows us, however, that the character of the Spanish women of this epoch compared favorably with that of their northern sisters. Though perhaps no chaster than the French, they were not street-brawlers like the English women. These latter, we are told, from whom the men would separate themselves in their debauches, would likewise assemble at the public house, drink their ale, talk loudly and lewdly, and gossip, swear, and fight. In a religious play of the period, representing the deluge, Noah, when ready to enter the ark, seeks his wife, and finds her carousing with her gossips at the public drink-house.

"Young ladies, even of great families," says Wright, "were brought up not only strictly but even tyrannically by their mothers, who kept them constantly at work, exacted from them almost slavish deference and respect, and even counted upon their earnings." A mother in those days was accounted a little severe who beat her daughter "once in the week, or twice, and sometimes twice a day," and "broke her head in two or three places," or still worse, permitted her to "speak with no man, whosoever come."

Witness the wooing of Matilda of Flanders by William the Conqueror. Having had the audacity to refuse him, the noble suitor entered her home, seized her long tresses, dragged her about the floor, struck her; then flinging her from him, he spurned her with his foot. Matilda at once accepted him, saying: "He must be a man of courage who dare beat me in my father's palace."

Pedro el Cruel, king of Castile and Leon, about the middle of the fourteenth century held good, and commanded, under heavy penalties, that no one of the laboring classes, man or woman, who was able to work, should be found begging. He fixed the day's wage of every class with the most punctilious exactitude. Shoemakers, tailors, armorers, and others who worked by the job, had a definite price attached to the making of every article. A shoe of such and such leather, made after such a fashion, with a double or single sole; a cloak, lined or unlined; a weapon of an ordinary, or of a superior temper and finish—each article in its fabrication was to cost just so much and no more.

It was an age of interference in the affairs of men, the strong against the weak. It was in these trade regulations, and in sumptuary laws, the superstition of political economy and social statics, that the science of ignorance culminated. It was then that learned men threw dust into the air, cast a cloud about their own intellect, and labored hard to inculcate the principles of nescience into the minds of men. In England the number of servants a nobleman might have was fixed by law, as was also costume, and the number of courses at dinner. Soup and two dishes legally constituted a Frenchman's dinner in 1340.

Ferdinand and Isabella were, perhaps, the most parentally inclined of all. No affair, religious, moral, political, judicial, economical, literary, industrial, mechanical, or mercantile could escape their attention. From the regulation and organization of the high councils, and of the civil and ecclesiastical tribunals, to the ordinances for the leather-dressers and cloth-shearers; from the decrees concerning the universities and the literary and scientific bodies, to the orders that prescribed the weight of horseshoes; from the general laws on commerce and navigation, to those which fixed the expenditure at weddings and baptisms, and the amount of wax to be burned at funerals; from the highest interests and rights of religion and of the throne, down to the most humble and mechanical industries—all were considered, legislated upon, and seen to by their Catholic Majesties, with infinite pains and vigilance. In 1510, thinking the colonists of Española too fond of ostentation and extravagance, Ferdinand issued a proclamation, forbidding them to wear rich silks, brocades, or gold or silver lace. Owners of vessels, in times of peace, were forced to engage at fixed prices in perilous voyages of discovery or commerce.

SUMPTUARY LAWS.

In England it appears that the dress of the men commanded the special attention of their rulers. Spaniards made men and women alike to feel the iron heel of sumptuary legislation; while the English, in laws of nearly coincident date, for the most part omitted the sex. By distinctive qualities, Edward IV., 1461-1483, regulated the dress of his people—from the royal cloth-of-gold down to the two-shillings-a-yard, and under, cloth of the laboring classes; but, if we may believe Sanford, he took care to exempt his women subjects from the provisions of this act, save only the wives of the two-shillings-a-yard boor, who might be expected to have other things to attend to.

The continental ladies, it appears, could flaunt it bravely upon occasion, at least in France and Flanders. For through these countries crusaded, in 1428, Thomas Conecte, a Carmelite friar, preaching against the evils of the age, or what he considered as such. Among these, dress held a place, and many other things not generally condemned at present. His manner of going to work was peculiar, and is pretty well described by Monstrelet.

In his audiences he always separated the men from the women by a cord, "for he had observed some sly doings between them while he was preaching." Having taken these wise precautions, he was accustomed earnestly to admonish his hearers "on the damnation of their souls and on pain of excommunication, to bring to him whatever backgammon-boards, chessboards, nine-pins, or other instruments for games of amusement they might possess." Right bitterly would he then attack the luxurious apparel of ladies of rank; especially the monstrous head-gear which was in fashion at that time; all of which bred trouble, as may readily be imagined, and produced no good results.

We see the same style of preaching indulged in by the Wesleys in England and Whitefield and others in America at different times, and ever with the same lack of practical results. The most costly jewelry, the finest apparel, grand houses and free living are as conspicuous among the followers of these self-sacrificing and conscientious men as among the members of any other church, or among those who are not members of any church. And if the pious Carmelite friar failed in his crusade against fine clothes, free living, and monstrous head-gear among the Spanish of the fifteenth century, so have more modern crusaders failed in similar attempts in later times.

This then was Spain and Spanish character, as nearly as I have been able to picture them in the short space allotted, at or prior to the dawn of the sixteenth century. We have found Spaniards the noblest race on earth at that time; their men brave, their women modest. Before them opened a career more brilliant than the world has ever seen before or since. To follow them in some parts of that career is the purpose of these volumes.

We have found these people after all not so very different from ourselves—more loyal than we, but more ignorant; more religious, but more superstitious; more daring, but more reckless; more enthusiastic, but more chimerical. They were endowed with the virtues and vices of their age, as we are with the virtues and vices of ours. They were sincere in their opinions, and honest in their efforts; but we have the advantage of them by four centuries of recorded experiences. Our knowledge, our advantages, are superior to theirs; do we make superior use of them? Spain lighted a hemisphere of dark waters, brought forth hidden islands and continents, and presented half a world to the other half. With all our boasted improvement, have we done more?

It is the custom of historical commentators to praise and to blame ad libitum. This is right if it be done judiciously. We should praise discreetly, and blame with steadiness. But there is really little to praise or to blame in history, and most of it that is done is simply praising or blaming the providence of progress. Would you blame the Spanish people for being ignorant, submissive, and cruel? They were as God and circumstances made them. Would you blame their king and princes for domineering them? They were as the people and circumstances made them. The people were indignant if their rulers did not impose upon them. Says Grenville, writing in his memoirs so late as 1818: "The Regent drives in the park every day in a tilbury, with his groom sitting by his side; grave men are shocked at this undignified practice."

Meanwhile, amidst the many so-called spirits which in this epoch hovered over man, the spirit of discovery was not the least potent. Curiosity, the mother of science, became the mother of new worlds; gave birth to continents, islands, and seas; gave form and boundary to earth. Over the sea, the mists of the Dark Age had rested with greater density even than on land. The aurora of progress now illumined the western horizon as of old it did the eastern. Hitherto the great ocean, beyond a few leagues from shore, was a mystery. As may be seen depicted on ancient charts, it was filled, in the imaginations of navigators, with formidable water-beasts and monsters, scarcely less terrible than those that Æneas saw as he entered the mouth of Hades:

"Multaque præterea variarum monstra ferarum:

Centauri in foribus stabulant, Scyllæque biformes,

et centumgeminus Briareus, ac belua Lernæ

horrendum stridens, flammisque armata Chimæra,

Gorgones Harpyiæque et forma tricorporis umbræ."

Ancient geographers affirmed that the heat of the torrid zone was intolerable, that men and ships entering it would shrivel. This belt of consuming heat presented an impenetrable barrier between the known and the unknown.

What wonder that intellect was stunted, civilization dwarfed, restricted as was human knowledge to the narrow grave-like walls of western Europe! No sooner were these ancient boundaries burst, and the black and dreadful fog-banks which lay upon primeval ocean pierced, than fancy, like a freed bird, bounded forth, swept the circumference of the earth, soared aloft amid the stars, and dared even to ask of religion a reason.

EUROPE AND AMERICA.

One glance westward. On either side of an unswept sea, a Sea of Darkness it was called by those that feared it, there rested at the opening of this history two fair continents, each unknown to the other. One was cultivated; its nations were well advanced in those arts and courtesies that spring from accumulated experiences; the other, for the most part, unmarred by man, lay revelling in primeval beauty, fresh as from the Creator's hand. The leaven of progress working in one, brought to its knowledge the existence of the other; the Sea of Darkness with its uncouth monsters was turned into a highway, and civilized Europe stood face to face with sylvan America. This world newly found was called the New World; though which is the new and which the old; which, if either, peopled the other, is yet undetermined. One in organism and in the nature human, the people of the two worlds were in color, customs, and sentiment several. The barbarous New World boasted its civilizations, while the civilized Old World disclosed its barbarisms; on Mexican and Peruvian highlands were nations of city-builders as far superior in culture to the islanders and coast-dwellers seen by Columbus, as were the European discoverers superior to the American highlanders. Of probable indigenous origin, this lesser civilization shows traces of high antiquity; even the ruder nations of the north leave far behind them absolute primevalism.

I do not say with some that in America were seen in certain directions marks of as high culture as any in Europe. There were no such marks. But this unquestionably is true; that, as in Europe, we here find that most inexplicable of phenomena, the evolution of civility; man's mental and spiritual necessities, like his physical wants, appear everywhere the same. The mind, like the body, craves nutriment, and the dimmed imprisoned soul a higher sympathy; hence we see men of every clime and color making for themselves gods, and contriving creeds which shall presently deliver them from their dilemma. The civilizations of America, unlike well-rooted saplings of Egypt, Greece, and Rome, were sensitive-plants which collapsed upon the first foreign touch, leaving only the blackness of darkness; hence it was the wild tribes, far more than the cultivated nations, that influenced the character of subsequent American societies.

In her civil and religious polities America was every whit as consistent as Europe. Neither was altogether perfect or wise; and we wonder at the blindness and stupidity of one as of the other. Although we could catch but a glimpse of the Americans before they vanished, yet we might see that intellect was not stationary, but growing, and that society was instinct with intelligent and progressional activity.

COMPARATIVE RELIGIONS.

In their religions the Americans paralleled the rest of mankind. Every religion derives its form and color from the mind of the worshippers, so that by their gods we may know them. From elevated natures emanate chaste and refined conceptions of the deity; from brutish natures coarse conceptions. Christianity is the highest and purest of all religions; but if we study the moral precepts of the foremost American nations, we shall see that in many respects they were not far behind, and were indeed in some instances in advance of Christianity. True, the Aztecs practised human sacrifice, with all its attendant horrors; but what were the religious wars, the expulsion of Jews, the slaughter of Infidels, the burning of heretics, but human sacrifice? Moreover, while we turn in horror from the sacrificial stone of the Aztecs, where the human victims were treated as gods and whence their souls were sent direct to Paradise, yet we find among them little of that most infamous of crimes—persecution for opinion's sake; nor yet do we read of their ingenuity being taxed for the contrivance of engines of the most excruciating torture, as we do in the history of Christianity. Tortures which, while killing the body, it was believed consigned the soul to eternal agonies.

There was little in the social or political systems of Europe of which the counterpart could not be found in America; indeed, the economical, social, and political condition of every civilization finds its counterpart in every other civilization; and there were institutions then existing in America at whose feet Europe might have sat with benefit.

AMERICAN ABORIGINALS.

Among the wilder tribes we find prevalent the patriarchal state, with its hundreds of languages and theologies; a slight advance from which are those associations of families banded for safety, thus presenting a state of society not unlike that of European feudalism. From this point, every quality and grade of government presents itself until full-blown monarchy is attained, where a sole sovereign becomes an emperor of nations with a state and severity equal to that of the most enlightened. The government of the Nashua nations, which was monarchical and nearly absolute, denotes no small progress from primordial patriarchy.

Like their cousins of Spain and England, the sovereigns of Mexico had their elaborate palaces, with magnificent surroundings, their country residence and their hunting-grounds, their botanical and zoological gardens, and their harems filled with the daughters of nobles, who deemed it an honor to see them thus royally defiled. There were aristocratic and knightly orders; nobles, plebeians, and slaves; pontiffs and priesthoods; land tenures and taxation; seminaries of learning, and systems of education, in which virtue was extolled and vice denounced; laws and law courts of various grades, and councils and tribunals of various kinds; military orders with drill, engineer corps, arms, and fortifications; commerce, caravans, markets, merchants, pedlers, and commercial fairs, with a credit system, and express and postal facilities.

They were not lacking in pleasures and amusements similar to those of the Europeans, such as feasts with professional jester, music, dancing; and after dinner the drama, national games, gymnastics, and gladiatorial combats. They were not without their intoxicating drink, delighting in drunkenness while denouncing it. Their medical faculty and systems of surgery they had, and their burial-men; also their literati, scholars, orators, and poets, with an arithmetical system, a calendar, a knowledge of astronomy, hieroglyphic books, chronological records, public libraries, and national archives.

The horoscope of infants was cast; the cross was lifted up; incense was burned; baptism and circumcision were practised. Whence arose these customs so like those of their fellow-men across the Atlantic, whom they had never seen or heard of?

The conquerors found all this when they entered the country. They examined with admiration the manufactures of gold, silver, copper, tin, and lead, wrought to exquisite patterns with surprising skill. They gazed with astonishment on huge architectural piles, on monumental remains speaking louder than words; on temples, causeways, fountains, aqueducts, and light-houses, surrounded as they were with statues and intricate and costly stone carvings. They found that the Americans made cloth, paper, pottery, and dyes, and were proficient in painting. Their mosaic feather-work was a marvel.

There are many points of interest, well worth examination, which I have not space here properly to mention. The interested reader, however, will find all material necessary to careful comparison in my [Native Races of the Pacific States]. He will there find described conditions of society analogous to feudalism and chivalry; he will find municipal governments, walled towns, and standing armies. There were legislative assemblies similar to that of the Cortes, and associations not unlike that of the Holy Brotherhood. To say that trial by combat sometimes occurred is affirming of them nothing complimentary; but upon the absence of some European institutions they were to be congratulated.

Although living lives of easy poverty, the wild tribes of America everywhere possessed dormant wealth enough to tempt the cupidity alike of the fierce Spaniard, the blithe Frenchman, and the sombre Englishman. Under a burning tropical sun, where neither meat nor clothing was essential to comfort, the land yielded gold, while in hyperborean forests where no precious metals were discovered the richest peltries abounded; so that no savage in all this northern continent was found so poor that grasping civilization could find nothing to rob him of.

When Europe undertook the mastery of America, she found the people, as a rule, ready to be friendly. Some at first were startled into the seizure of their arms, the first impulse of the wild man on meeting anything strange being to defend himself. But their fears were easily allayed, their confidence easily gained, and their pledges of good faith were usually to be depended upon.

COMPARATIVE CHARACTERISTICS.

The variations between them and their brethren across the Atlantic were less of kind than of quality. They were more children than wild beasts. Physically they were complete, but mentally they were not fully developed. Their minds were not so broad, nor so strong or subtle as those of white men. Their cunning partook more of brute instinct than of civilized artifice. There was mind-power enough, but it lacked shape and consistency. They were naturally no more blood-thirsty, or cruel, or superstitious than their conquerors, but their cruelty and superstitions were of coarser, cruder forms. The American aboriginal character has been greatly misconstrued, and is to-day but imperfectly understood.

The chief difference, or cause of difference, between the people of Europe and the more advanced nations of America, it seems to me, lay in the ignorance of some few things, apparently insignificant in themselves, yet mighty enough to revolutionize Christendom; such as the use of iron, gunpowder, and movable types. The absence of horses, and other of the more useful domestic animals, was also a disadvantage.

After reading of the Europeans of that day it is irony to call the Americans revengeful or cruel. Where is it possible to find more strongly developed those qualities which civilization most condemns than among civilized nations—the same, only refined? So blind are we to our own faults, so quick to see and condemn the faults of our weak and defenceless neighbor!

Catalogue crime and place the white beside the red. Seldom was the Indian treacherous until he had been deceived. The Indians tortured their prisoners; so did the white men, hunting them with bloodhounds, enslaving them, branding them with hot irons, beating and roasting them, making them work in the mines until death relieved them by thousands, butchering wives and children because the husband and father dared strike a blow in their defence. It is well to call them brutal in warfare when the white man so quickly adopts their most brutal customs; it is well to call them beasts of prey, when the white man crosses the ocean to prey upon those very beasts which he pretends to slur.

In speaking of the Indians, it has become the custom wilfully to misapply terms. If a tribe resist an injury, it is called an outbreak; if successful in war, it is a massacre; if successful in single combat, it is a murder. Thus soldiers speak to cover the disgrace of defeat, and thus reports are made by men who regard not decency in speaking of a savage, to say nothing of fairness. It is enough that we have exterminated this people, without attempting to malign them and exalt our own baseness. What should we do were a foreign power to come in ships to our shore and begin to slaughter our animals, to stake off our land and divide it among themselves? We should drive them away if we were able; but if we found them the stronger, we should employ every art to destroy them, and in so doing regard ourselves as patriots performing a sacred obligation. This is the Indians crime; and in so doing we call him cunning, revengeful, hateful, diabolical. But the white man brings him blankets, it may be said, brings him medicine, tells him of contrivances, teaches him civilization. These things are exactly what the savage does not want, and what he is much better off without. The white man's comforts kill him almost as quickly as do his cruelties; and the teachings of Christ's ministers are abhorrent if they are coupled with the examples of lecherous and murderous professors of Christianity.

These, however, were by no means all that white men gave the Indian. We might enumerate alcohol, small-pox, measles, syphilis, and a dozen other disgusting adjuncts of civilization of which the savage before knew nothing. Can savagism boast greater achievements? White men have killed fifty Indians where Indians have killed one white man, and this, notwithstanding that nine tenths of all injuries inflicted have been perpetrated by white invaders. A thousand Indian women have been outraged by men whose mothers had taught them the Lord's prayer, where one white woman has been injured by these benighted heathen. At any time in the history of America I would rather take my chances as a white woman among savages, than as an Indian woman among white people.

SIGNIFICATIONS OF PROGRESS.

Brethren by procreation, but by destiny foes, as we behold them there the so-called New and Old thus so strangely brought together, naturally enough we ask ourselves, Whence came the one, and whither tends the other? Whence came these dusky denizens of the forest, and for how many thousands of ages has the feeble light of their intelligence struggled with the darkness, dimly flickering, now gathering strength, now falling back into dense obscurity; how long and in what manner has the divine spark thus wrestled with its environment? And whither tends this fierce flame of human advancement which just now bursts its ancient boundaries, sweeps across the Sea of Darkness, absorbs all lesser lights, and dazzles and consumes a hemisphere of souls? More especially, when we look back toward what we are accustomed to call the beginning, and mark the steady advance of knowledge, the ever-increasing power of mind; when we consider the progress of even the last half century, and listen to the present din and clatter of improvement, do we raise our eyes to the future and ask, Whither tends all this? Whither tends with so rapidly accelerating swiftness this self-begetting of enlightenment, this massing of human acquirements; whither tends this perpetually increasing domination of the intellectual over the material? Within the past few thousand years we have seen our race emerge from barbarism, and notwithstanding the inherent tendency to evil ever present in our natures, we have seen mankind put on civilization and accept for their faith Christianity, the purest and highest type of religion. We have seen nations cease somewhat their hereditary growlings, and brutal blood-sheddings, and mingle as brethren; we have seen wavy grain supplant the tangled wildwood, gardens materialize from the mirage, and magnificent cities rise out of the rocky ground. Thus we have seen the whole earth placed under tribute, and this mysterious reasoning intelligence of ours elevating itself yet more and more above the instincts of the brute, and asserting its dominion over nature; belting the earth with an impatient energy, which now presses outward from every meridian, widening its domain as best it may toward the north and toward the south, building equatorial fires under polar icebergs. All this and more from the records of our race we have seen accomplished, and yet do see it; civilization working itself out in accordance with the eternal purposes of Omnipotence, unfolding under man's agency, yet independent of man's will; a subtile, extraneous, unifying energy, stimulated by agencies good not more than by agencies evil, yet always tending in its results to good rather than to evil; an influence beyond the reach or cognizance of man, working in and round persons and societies, turning and overturning, now clouding the sky with blackness and dropping disorder on floundering humanity, but only to be followed by a yet more fertilizing sunshine; laying waste and building up, building up by laying waste, civilizing as well by war and avarice as by good-will and sweet charity, civilizing as surely, if not as rapidly, with the world of humanity struggling against it, as with the same human world laboring for it.

Slowly rattles along the dim present, well-nigh buried in its own dust; it is only the past that is well-defined and clear to history.