Chapter VIII.

Nellie slept that night the peaceful slumbers of a child; but the habits of long weeks of care were not to be so easily shaken off, and the first ray of sunshine that found its way through the narrow window of her chamber roused her from her well-earned repose. {323} Her first impulse was, as it had ever been of late, to spring from her couch with a painful sense of hard duty to be accomplished that very day; her next was to thank God with all the fervor of a young and innocent heart for the haven of safety into which he had guided her at last. Then she lay back upon her pillow, and, yielding to the delightful consciousness that there was now no immediate call upon her for exertion either of body or mind, glanced languidly round the dimly-lighted room, and endeavored to make a mental inventory of its contents. It was a square chamber, forming the second story of the old tower in which Roger had taken up his abode, and which was all that was yet remaining of the old stronghold of Grana Uaille. The apartment had evidently no furniture of its own to boast of, but, having been used as a sort of lumber-room, was abundantly supplied with articles brought hither from more favored mansions. Nellie soon perceived that much of this so-called lumber was of the costliest description, and represented probably the sum total of all that had been saved from the wreck of Roger's fortune. There were cabinets of curious workmanship, a table carved in oak as black as ebony, a few high-backed chairs of the same material, ornaments in gold and silver, some of ancient Celtic manufacture, others in their more delicate workmanship bearing marks of artistic handling, which, even to Nellie's unaccustomed eye, betrayed their foreign origin. There were pictures, too, most of them with the dark shadow of a Spanish hand upon them, and swords, bucklers, weapons, and armor of all kinds, old and new, defensive and offensive, piled up here and there in picturesque confusion in the corners of the turret. Nellie had been amusing herself for some minutes scanning all these treasures over and over, and guessing at their various uses, when her attention became suddenly riveted upon a huge coffer with bands and mouldings of curiously-wrought brass, which stood against the wall exactly opposite to the foot of her bed. She was still quite girl enough to be willing to amuse herself by imagining all sorts of impossibilities respecting the contents of this mysterious looking piece of furniture, and she was watching it as anxiously as if she half expected it to open of itself, when the door of the chamber was cautiously unclosed, and the old woman, who represented the office of cook, valet, and everything else in Roger's establishment, crept up to her bedside as quietly as if she fancied her to be sleeping still.

"God's blessing and the light of heaven be on your sweet smiling face," she ejaculated, as Nellie turned her bright, wide-open eyes with a grateful smile upon the old hag. "Lie still a bit, a-lannah, lie still, and take a sup of this fresh goat's whey that I have been making for you. It will bring the color, may be, into your pretty cheeks again; for troth, a-lannah, they are as pale this morning as mountain roses, and not at all what they should be in regard to a young and well-grown slip of a lassie like yourself."

Nellie took the tempting beverage, which Nora presented to her in an old-fashioned silver goblet, readily enough; but checking herself just as she was about to put it to her lips, she said, gayly:

"Thanks, a thousand times, my dear old woman, but I do not feel that I need it much, and this whey would be the very thing for my poor old grandfather. He was always accustomed to something of the sort in the days when we were able to indulge ourselves in such luxuries."

{324}

"Lord bless the child!" said the delighted Nora. "If she isn't as gay as a bird in its mother's nest this morning, for all the weary worry of her last night's travels. But there's no need to be sparing of the whey, my honey, for sure I've a good sup of it left on purpose for the old lord as soon as ever he awakens. So drink up every drop of this, if you wouldn't have the master scold me; for he sent it up himself, he did, and it's downright mad he'd be if it came back to him and it not empty."

Something in this speech, or in old Nora's way of making it, caused the blood, the absence of which she had been just deploring, to rush once more into Nellie's cheek; and perhaps it was partly to hide this weakness that she took the goblet without another word, and drained it to the dregs, playfully turning its wrong side up as she gave it back to Nora, in order to show her how thoroughly her directions had been complied with. Made happy on this important point, the old woman trotted gayly out of the room, and then Nellie rose, half-reluctantly, it must be confessed, and commenced the duties of the toilet. They were simple enough in her case, yet difficult, also, from their very simplicity. Her hair, long and smooth and shining, was easily enough disposed in braids, which, folded tightly round her head, gave a grace and elegance to her appearance none of the fantastic head-gear then in vogue could possibly have imparted; but when she came to inspect the habiliments she had worn the day before, and which perforce she must wear again that day, she became painfully, and, perhaps for the first time, fully conscious of the dilapidations which time and travel had wrought upon them. In vain she rubbed out mud and grass stains, in vain she plied her needle. The garments absolutely defied her skill, and, painfully conscious of the fact, she was about perforce to don them as they were, when Nora burst into the room with a look of gladness on her face, which vanished, however, to do her justice, as completely as if it had never been, at the sight of poor Nellie, shame-faced and sad, vainly trying to smooth her rags into something like decent poverty around her.

"God help you, a-cushla!" she cried in a tone of unfeigned compassion, laying at the same time her withered hand upon the tattered kerchief which Nellie was trying to fold round her stately shoulders. "God help ye! and is this all that them black scum of Saxon robbers left ye when they turned ye out upon the wide world to seek your fortune?"

"It cannot be helped," said Nellie with a little choking in her voice, though she tried hard to veil it beneath an assumption of indifference. "And after all, these rags do but make me seem what in fact I am--a beggar. Only I hope," she added, with a little nervous laugh, "I hope that Colonel O'More" (she had learned his military rank and his real name, Moore being only its Saxon rendering, the night before from Nora) "will not be utterly disgusted this morning when he finds out to what a pauper he extended his hospitality last night."

"The colonel? Is it the master that you mean? The master be disgusted! Ah! now, listen to me, asthore, and don't be filling your head with them ugly fancies; for you may just take my word for it, and don't I know every turn of his mind as well as if I was inside of it? You may just take old Nora's word for it, that he worships the very ground you tread on, and would, too, all the same, if you had never a brogue to the foot or a kirtle to the back. {325} Beggar, indeed! Why, could not he see for himself last night that you had been just robbed and murdered like out of your own by them thieving Saxons, and wasn't it for that very reason that, before he went off to his fishing this blessed morning, he gave me the key of that big black box, and says--says he, 'Nora, my old woman, I have been thinking that the young lady up-stairs has been so long on the road that may be she'll be in want of a new dress like; so, as there is nothing like decent woman-tailoring to be found in the island, maybe she'll condescend to see if there's anything in my poor mother's box that would suit her for the present.' And troth, my darling," old Nora went on, "it's you that are going to have the pick and choice of fine things; for she was a grand Spanish lady, she was, and always went about among us dressed like a princess."

Nora had opened the box at the beginning of this speech, and with every fresh word she uttered, she flung out such treasures of finery on the floor as fully justified her panegyric on the deceased lady's wardrobe.

Nellie soon found herself the centre of a heap of thick silks and shiny satins, and three-piled velvets and brocaded stuffs, standing upright by virtue of their own rich material, and of laces so delicate and fine, that they looked as if she had only to breathe upon them in order to make them float away upon the air like cobwebs.

She was quite too much of a girl as yet to be able to resist a close and curious examination of such treasures; nevertheless, her instinct of the fitness of things was stronger than her vanity, and there was an incongruity between these courtly habiliments and her broken fortunes, which made her feel that it would be an absolute impossibility to wear them. Selecting, therefore, a few articles of linen clothing, she told old Nora that everything else was far too fine for daily wear, and began, of her own accord, to restore them to their coffer. Not so, however, the good old Nora. That _any_ thing could be too fine for the adornment of any one whom "the master" delighted to honor, was a simple absurdity in her mind; and she became so clamorous in her remonstrances, that Nellie was fain to shift her ground, and to explain that she was bent at that moment upon "taking a long ramble by the sea-shore, for which anything like a dress of silk or satin (Nora's own good sense must tell her) would be, to say the least of it, exceedingly inappropriate."

At these words a new light seemed to dawn upon the old woman's mind, and, plunging almost bodily down into the deep coffer in her eagerness to gratify her _protégé_, she exclaimed, "So it's for a walk you'd be going this morning, is it? and after all your bother last night! Well, well, you are young still, and would rather, I daresay, be skipping about like a young kid among the rocks than sitting up in silks and satins as grave and stately as if you were a princess in earnest. Something plain and strong? That's what you'll be wanting, isn't it, a-lannah? Wait a bit, will you? for I mind me now of a dress the old mistress had made when she was young, for a frolic, like, that she might go with me unnoticed to a 'pattern.' And may I never sin if I haven't got it," she cried, diving down once more into the coffer, and bringing up from its shining chaos a dress which, consisting as it did simply of a madder-colored petticoat and short over-skirt of russet brown, was not by any means very dissimilar to the habitual costume of a peasant girl of the west at the present hour. {326} Nora was right. It was, as ladies have it, "the very thing!" Stout enough and plain enough to meet all Nellie's ideas of propriety, and yet presenting a sharp contrast of coloring which (forgive her, my reader, she was only sixteen) she was by no means sorry to reflect would be exceedingly becoming to her clear, pale complexion, and the blue-black tresses of her hair. It was with a little blush of pleasure, therefore, that she took it from the old woman's hand, exclaiming, "Oh! thank you, dear Nora. It is exactly what I was wishing for--so strong and pretty. It will make me feel just as I want to feel, like a good strong peasant girl, able and willing to work for her living; and, to say the truth, moreover," she added, somewhat confidentially, "I should not at all have liked making my appearance in those fine Spanish garments. I should have been so much afraid of the O'More taking me for his mother."

The annunciation of this grave anxiety set off old Nora in a fit of laughing, under cover of which Nellie contrived to complete her toilette. Madder-dyed petticoat, and, russet skirt, and long dark mantle, she donned them all; but the effect, though exceedingly pretty, was by no means exactly what she had expected; for Nora, turning her round and round for closer inspection, declared, with many an Irish expletive, which we willingly spare our readers, "That dress herself how she might, no one could ever mistake her for anything but what she really was, namely, a born lady, and perhaps even, moreover, a princess in disguise." With a smile and a courtesy Nellie accepted of the compliment, and then tripped down the winding staircase of her turret, took one peep at Lord Netterville as he lay in the room below, in the "calliogh" or nook by the hearth, which, screened off by a bent matting, had been allotted to him as the warmest and most comfortable accommodation the tower afforded, and having satisfied herself that he was still fast asleep, stepped out gayly into the open air. She was met at the door by "Maida," who nearly knocked her down in her boisterous delight at beholding her again, and she was playfully defending herself from the too rapturous advances of her four-footed friend when Roger ran his fishing-boat alongside the pier, and, evidently mistaking Nellie for some bare-footed visitor of Nora's, called out in Irish:

"Hilloa, ma colleen dhas! run back to the tower, will you, and tell Nora to fetch me down a basket, and you shall have a good handful of fish for your pains, for I have caught enough to garrison the island for a week."

Guessing his mistake and enchanted at the success of her masquerade, Nellie instantly darted into the kitchen, seized a fishing-creel which was lying near the hearth, and rushed down to the pier. Roger was still so busy disentangling the fish from the net in which he had caught them, that he never even looked at Nellie until he turned round to place them in her basket. Then for the first time he saw who it was whom he had been so unceremoniously ordering about upon his commission. Had Nellie been rich and prosperous, he would probably have laughed and made exceedingly light of the matter; but poor, and almost dependent on his bounty as she was, he flushed scarlet to the forehead, and apologized with an eager deference, which was not only very touching in itself, but very characteristic of the sensitive and generous-hearted race from which he sprung. {327} "But, after all," he added, in conclusion, smiling and laying his finger lightly on the folds of Nellie's mantle, "after all, how could I dream that, her weeks of weary wandering only just concluded, Mistress Netterville would have been up again with the sun, looking as fresh and bright as the morning dew, and masquerading like a peasant girl?"

"But I am not masquerading at all," said Nellie, laughing, and yet evidently quite in earnest. "I am as poor as a peasant girl, and mean to dress like one, ay, and to work like one too, so long as I needs must be dependent upon others."

"Not if I am still to be master here," said Roger, very decidedly, taking the fishing-creel out of her hands. "Like a wandering princess you have come to me; and like a wandering princess I intend that you shall be treated, so long as you condescend to honor me by your presence in this kingdom of barren rocks."

"But the fish," said the laughing and blushing Nellie; "in the meantime, what is to be done with the fish? Nora will be in pain about it; for she told me last night that there wasn't a blessed fish in the bay that would be worth a 'thraneen' if only half-an-hour were suffered to elapse between their exit from the ocean and their introduction to her kitchen."

"Nora is quite right," said Roger, responding freely to the young girl's merry laugh; "and it has cost me both time and pains, I do assure you, to impress that fact upon her mind. But Maida has already told her all about it; and here she comes," he added, as he caught a glimpse of the old woman descending leisurely toward the pier. "So now we may leave the fish with a safe conscience to her tender mercies, and, if you are inclined for a stroll, I will take you up to yonder rocky platform, from whence you will see the Atlantic, as unfortunately we but seldom see it on this wild coast, in all the calm glories of a summer day."

To Be Continued.

{328}

Mexico, By Baron Humboldt [Footnote 57]

[Footnote 57: _Essai politique sur le Royaume de Nouvelle-Espagne_. 2 vols. fol. Chez F. Schoell. Paris.]

Some old books, like some old married couples, deserve a second celebration. Fifty years are surely long enough to wait for a rehearsal of nuptials; and a married pair who can for a half-century live at peace with themselves and the public, respected and esteemed, receive a merited recognition and a pleasing recompense. Books that have circulated with an equal longevity and enjoyed universal appreciation, have also their rights for a share of the cakes and ale. If the old people have only a new coat and a new gown, they look young again; if the old favorite volumes are honored with a fresh binding, their backbones seems strengthened. It is charming to witness an ancient dame clinging to the side of her equally ancient husband for time almost out of mind; and it has a home look to find two venerable tomes, called Volume One and Volume Two, supporting and comforting each other on the same shelf in the library. When one of the aged who have trudged on through life together drops off, how soon the second follows after; and when one book is lost or destroyed, its companion pines away in dust, if not in ashes, till, finally neglected, it mysteriously disappears.

But Baron Humboldt's two folios on New Spain or Mexico indicate that time, as yet, has written no wrinkles on their brow. They are good for another lease of life of equal length; their high state of preservation has imparted a healthy appearance; and perhaps grandchildren hereafter will be delighted to make their acquaintance. On the present occasion, the compliments of the season, and of the editor, must be extended to them. And in the interchange of courtesies, let us hear what they have to say for themselves. It is somewhat surprising in modern times that Humboldt's folios on Mexico should have retained so long their pre-eminence. The baron wrote upon subjects wherein our knowledge is continually increasing, where important changes are daily made by new discoveries, and where a constant demand is kept up for new books. His great essay is devoted to branches of political and social sciences, which in their nature are progressive sciences,--geography, topography, economical and commercial statistics. But in the case of the baron, an exception is found in the general law in relation to the rise, reign, and fall of standard authorities. His supremacy in the department of Mexico was established in the first decade of the present age; it may not be destroyed in the last. Yet one fact is truly remarkable: his essay was published in 1811 in Paris, in the most imposing and expensive form, in two volumes in folio; it had been anxiously expected; it was instantly translated into all the modern languages of Europe; it was received with eulogiums and commendations; but no second edition was ever called for. This singular fate of a performance so much extolled, and still quoted, needs some explanation; and in giving this, the interest manifested abroad in the situation of Mexico must also be explained; for in truth, the popularity of the essay was, for the most part, due to the importance of and attention bestowed upon that rich province of the king of Spain on the western shores of the Atlantic. {329} Mexico had been a resplendent gem in the Spanish crown from the time of the conquest by Cortez in 1521; it had been the envy of rival nations, and often the prize which they desired to win from its rightful sovereign. England was eager to supply its market with African slaves, in order to gain access to its ports, and thereby stimulate the contraband trade. France was perpetually on guard at the Bahamas to capture its bullion fleets, bearing their precious cargoes from Vera Cruz to Cadiz. The Dutch defeated the best of Spanish admirals, and carried off the richest spoils; while all three, English, French, and Dutch cruisers, partly privateers, partly public armed vessels with their piratical captains and crews, in times of profound peace made private war on every ship sailing under the flag of Castile. The capital of that far-off country was described in the last century as one of the wonders of the modern world. We read in _Spence's Anecdotes_, that a travelled gentlemen who had seen several of the most splendid courts abroad, stated in the presence of Mr. Pope, the poet, that he had never been struck so much with anything as by the magnificence of the City of Mexico, with its seven hundred equipages and harness of solid silver, and ladies walking on the paseo waited upon by their black slaves, to hold up the trains, and shade with umbrellas their fair mistresses from the sun. But this New Spain had nothing attractive beyond its wealth; it had no arts, sciences, or history; no literature, poetry, or romance. With the death of Hernando Cortez, these had died out. No one desired more on these subjects. But everybody wished to learn all that could be learned of its prolific revenues, and of its enormous resources in the precious metals, then supplying the commerce of all nations with coin. Nothing was talked of, listened to, or considered, when discussing the condition of that country, except its vast production of silver. "Thank you," said Tom Hood, when dining with a London Amphictyon, who was helping his plate too profusely, "thank you, alderman; but if it is all the same to you, I will take the balance in money." Interest in Mexico was taken in nothing else.

It must be remembered that credit in commerce is of recent origin, and paper currency of still more recent creation. Both, comparatively speaking, were in their infancy at the close of the last century. Precious metals were then the sole, or at least the great, medium of commercial exchanges; and consequently, silver and gold performed a more important part in the markets than they do now. They were more highly appreciated and sought after. Then it was, that the Mexican mines yielded the far greater portion of the total product; and, of course, the control of these mines was supposed to afford the control of the commerce of the world. Economists and statesmen, therefore, turned their gaze upon that strange land beyond sea, as the only land in that direction worthy of their notice. But the notice bestowed upon it was absorbing. Napoleon, availing himself of the imbecility of the king of Spain, and of the venality of the Prince of Peace, endeavored to divert the Mexican revenues from the royal House of Trado at Seville to the imperial treasury of France. Ouvrard, also, the most daring speculator in the most gigantic schemes under Napoleon, the contractor-general for the armies and navy of the French empire, undertook, on his own responsibility, to enter into a private partnership with the Spanish sovereign to monopolize the trade of Mexico, and divide equally the profits. {330} Napoleon assented to this arrangement; English bankers took part in the negotiation; and the British government under William Pitt gave it their sanction and aid. Yet, strange to relate, all this transpired while England was at war with France and Spain, and a British fleet blockaded the harbor of Vera Cruz. These hostile nations were drained of money, and wanted an immediate supply. France had anticipated the public revenues to meet the imperial necessity; the Bank of England had stopped specie payments; Madrid was threatened with a famine from a series of failures in the crops at home, and no funds were in the royal coffers to purchase wheat abroad. Thus all were clamorous for coin, which Mexico only could produce. It was known that fifty millions of silver dollars were on deposit in the Consulado of Vera Cruz, awaiting shipment to Spain; and it was well known, also, that, if shipped, the greater portion of the amount would soon find its way to Paris and London. In this state of affairs, the emergency became so pressing upon the belligerents, that their war policy was compelled to succumb; the blockade was raised and the bullion exported. We shall not soon forget how a similar exigency in the late war compelled the Lincoln administration to permit provisions being furnished to the Confederates, in order to procure cotton to strengthen our finances. Cotton was king of commerce in 1864, Silver was king in 1804.

England, at the same time, was meditating seriously upon the resources and riches of New Spain. Aware of the importance attached by the British cabinet to the subject, Dumouriez, the distinguished French republican exile, then in London, addressed Mr. Windham, the Secretary of War and for the Colonies, a paper advocating its conquest. The general called attention to the fact that, once in English occupancy, "the commerce of the two seas will be in your hands; the metallic riches of Spanish America will pour into England; you will deprive Spain and Bonaparte of them; and this monetary revolution will change the political face of Europe." It seems Mr. Windham entertained the project, and referred it to Sir Arthur Wellesley. In the sixth volume of the _Wellington Supplementary Dispatches_, the proposition is examined.

While such was the state of public opinion in Europe, finding expression daily in high quarters, and of which the above are only isolated examples, Humboldt undertook his scientific expedition to Spanish America, and was preparing his great essay on New Spain. He landed in Mexico in March, 1803, and remained in the country for one year, engaged in the study of the physical structure and political condition of the vast realm, and in the investigation of the causes having the greatest influence on the progress of its population and native industry. But no printed work could be found to aid him in his researches with materials, and therefore he resorted to manuscripts in great numbers, already in general circulation. He had also free, uninterrupted access to official records; records which for the first time were permitted to be examined by a private gentleman. Finally, he embodied his topographical, geographical, statistical, and other collections, into a separate work on New Spain, "hoping they would be received with interest at a time when the new continent, more than ever, attracts the attention of Europeans." {331} The original sketch was drawn up in Spanish for circulation, and from the comments thereon, he informs us, he "was enabled to make many important corrections." The _Essay_ reviews the extent and physical aspect of the country; the influence of the inequalities of surface on the climate, on agriculture, commerce, and defence of the coasts; the population, and its divisions into castes; the census and area of the intendencias--calculated from the maps drawn up by him from his astronomical observations; its agriculture and mines, commerce and manufactures; the revenues and military defences. But Humboldt very candidly confesses, as incident to such an undertaking, that, "notwithstanding the extreme care which I have bestowed in verifying results, no doubt many serious errors have been committed." It can be readily imagined what attention was given in Europe to the first rude sketch of statistics published by him in 1804-5, The cupidity and ambition of merchants, statesmen, and military men were aroused by this first authentic revelation of Mexican revenues and resources. All nations were anxious to learn more; all classes of people listened in wonder to this true account respecting the prodigious production of the precious metals. In this pleasing excitement, Humboldt was preparing his complete _Essay_, to satisfy the public desire. Having learned caution from the inaccuracies pointed out in his first rough publication, he was in no great haste to send forth the final result of his labors. Thus, he waited for four or five years; and, unfortunately for his own profit, he waited too long. The interest in Mexico had gone by; the golden visions of its boundless opulence had vanished; its fascinations, that had charmed for years, like some castle raised by magic in a night, resplendent with gems of ruby, amethyst, and jasper, had passed away; the spell of enchantment was broken. For the rebellion burst out in 1810, and commerce, revenues, industry, all perished in the general ruin it created. It was now, in common estimation, one of the poorest colonies of Spain; and what cared the public for more Spanish poverty beyond the Atlantic, when too much of it already was visible in the peninsula? The great _Essay_, therefore, when finally published, was not purchased with impatient eagerness; it fell flat on the market. For Mexico was now ruined, the public thought; and so does the public continue to think, even unto the present day. Thenceforth, Mexican antiquities only were attractive. The _Edinburgh Review_, in 1811, writing on the essay, commences: "Since the appearance of our former article on this valuable and instructive work, a great and, for the present at least, lamentable revolution has taken place in the countries it describes. Colonies which were at that time the abode of peace and industry have now become the seat of violence and desolation. A civil war, attended with various success, but everywhere marked with cruelty and desolation, has divided the colonists, and armed them for their mutual destruction. Blood has been shed profusely in the field and unmercifully on the scaffold. Flourishing countries, that were advancing rapidly in wealth and civilization, have suffered alike from the assertors of their liberties and from the enemies of their independence." The _Quarterly Review_ did not notice the _Essay_, making no sign of its existence.

{332}

It is true, some learned gentlemen gave a look into the work, and scientific men studied it well. But the learned and scientific were only a small, select number in the general mass of readers; and Humboldt had not designed his information for, and waited not the approbation of, the select alone, but of all classes alike that could read. Europe closed the map of Mexico when the revolution broke forth, and shut out all further inquiry into its political and industrial condition. Then it was that, instead of a cordial greeting with open arms at every fire side, which Humboldt reasonably anticipated for his production, the door was almost rudely slammed in his face. He never forgot that treatment of the book; he never wrote more upon Mexico; never furnished to the learned or unlearned a new edition, with emendations and corrections, notes and new maps. As it went from the hands of the author then, we receive it now.

At the moment, however, when Europe closed the map, America for the first time seriously opened it; and just in proportion with receding time, as Mexico has faded into insignificance from European view, in the same proportion with advancing time has Mexico loomed up into importance with us. They refused to Humboldt then the high consideration his _Essay_ merited; we bestow upon him now more respect and veneration than his _Essay_ deserves. To the European mind, Humboldt's New Spain was Mexico no more; to the American, Mexico is the same New Spain--changed, to be sure, but still the land for enterprise and riches. It was not altogether unknown to us before our revolution. It had a consideration while the States were English colonies; for Northern merchants sometimes smuggled into its ports, and sometimes, too, our fillibusters buccaneered on its coasts, like other loyal English subjects sailing under "the brave old English flag." When our revolution came, aid was invoked from Spain as well as from France; for the Spanish sovereign had a personal insult to avenge on the British, and Spanish supremacy on the seas to maintain. But Spain, though willing, had, first of all, to concentrate her fleets. One armada was contending with the Portuguese in South America; another was acting as convoy for the galleons, with cargoes of silver, proceeding from Mexico to Spain. Treaties with Portugal were hastily patched up, and "the ordinanza of free trade" liberated the convoy from protecting the ships laden with the silver. The policy of that ordinance Humboldt, and many respectable Mexican writers after him, have much misunderstood; and they are greatly mistaken in their estimate of its beneficial effects on mining prosperity. After the United States became an independent nation, Spain, in order to be rid of the Louisiana incumbrance, which was dependent upon the revenues of Mexico for support, transferred that territory to France; and Napoleon, in turn, sold it to the American government. But did its boundaries extend to the Sabine or the Rio Grande, on the south? And did they extend to the Russian Pacific possessions on the north? These were uncertain questions, and hence from this purchase originated those many diplomatic complications, and no less numerous domestic controversies, which have been the fruitful source of change in cabinets and of defeats of national parties, with the downfall of not a few distinguished men. Hence, also, the first settlements in Texas; next the American colonists, and the question of annexation; the war with Mexico; the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, and the acquisition of California. Before these measures were decided, however, Colonel Burr had already, with his band of adventurers, undertaken that mysterious enterprise in the same direction, whose object seems to have been as vague as the boundaries to be invaded were uncertain. {333} Ouvrard, also, had solicited and effected the co-operation of leading merchants in Northern cities, in his joint speculation with the king of Spain, for the vast Mexican commercial scheme. And herein was given the great impulse to amassing those large private fortunes, by Mr. Gray of Boston, Mr. Oliver of Baltimore, Mr. Girard of Philadelphia, and the Parish family. Subsequently came the Mexican revolution, protracted for twelve years, during which period the commerce of that country, previously a Spanish monopoly, was completely under the control of Americans. At the close of the Napoleon wars Spain desired the monopoly restored, in order to transfer it to France. This movement called forth, in favor of free commerce, the celebrated message announcing the Monroe doctrine. The message gave umbrage to Russia in reference to her American possessions, and fixed their ultimate destiny. It also forced England to disclose her claim for the first time, and to exhibit her title to the Vancouver country south of the Russian--a title until then unheard of and unknown to American statesmen. The Missouri Compromise grew out of the acquisition of Louisiana, and its repeal grew out of the acquisition of California. As a supplement to the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, was concluded the treaty for the Messilla Valley, which negotiation sprung from a mistake in Humboldt's maps, faithfully copied by Disturnell, in giving a wrong location, in longitude and latitude, to El Paso on the Rio Grande. The invasion of Mexico by France in 1862, nearly kindled a desolating war between the United States and the French empire. Unforeseen obstacles, however, induced Louis Napoleon to pause in the conquest; for he had, in its inception, been deceived respecting the condition of Mexico and the Mexican people, and misled as to the easy development by France of the abundant resources of the country. The moral support, moreover, extended to the liberal party by the American government compelled the French to abandon an expedition which was properly appreciated in all its imposing magnitude by the emperor, but which so many to this day do not comprehend.

No one can fail to be astonished in contemplating the large space occupied by Mexico in American affairs; the immense acquisition of territory made from within her ancient landmarks; the princely private fortunes accumulated from her commerce; the vast treasures discovered in her former mines; the rich agricultural crops gathered from her Louisiana valley, her Texas loamy soil, and her California plains; while, upon the margin of the Mississippi river, a city, created by Mexican aid and contributions, has grown into an opulent mart of commerce, surpassing all other American cities in the value of its exports, in the happy era of our greatest prosperity. Nor can that prosperity ever return until New Orleans once more becomes the leading emporium for the outlet of the great staples of this republic. It is no less surprising to recall the fate of so many statesmen, and others of mark, who have risen to distinction, or who have been forced to retire, from questions growing out of their policy toward Mexico. {334} It is no longer disputed that the first fatal error of the first Napoleon was his invasion of Spain, thereby to control the Mexican revenues; perhaps it will soon be conceded that the first fatal error of Louis Napoleon was, in too closely following in the footsteps, in the same direction, of his illustrious uncle. Colonel Burr, the Vice-President of the United States, from his ill-starred adventure, fell into disgrace and sunk into an infamous notoriety. General Wilkinson, once upon the military staff of Washington, was both the accomplice and ruin of Burr, and died in obscurity in a voluntary exile. The Missouri Compromise destroyed the aspirations of many Northern statesmen who opposed its adoption, and shattered the popularity of others who afterward advocated its repeal. The question of annexing Texas was the fatal rock upon which were wrecked the hopes of President Van Buren for renomination; it defeated Mr. Clay; it elected Mr. Polk. In succession to the presidency, were elected General Taylor and General Pierce, from their distinguished positions in the war with Mexico. To the like cause, Colonel Frémont was indebted for his popular nomination, nearly crowned with success. Winfield Scott was made a Brevet Lieutenant-General for his meritorious services in the Mexican campaign, and many of the greatest generals in the recent strife, both Federal and Confederate, received their first practical lessons in the art of war on the same distant field. To all of these historical celebrities, the crude statistics or the elaborate _Essay_ of Humboldt were well known; for Humboldt's publications were the only source of authentic information on Mexico of much value. Other foreign authors, who followed after, copied extensively from him, and native writers have not failed to quote from the same source. But although foreign authors have drawn more from the _Essay_, they have been less circumspect in verifying the accuracy of its statements; while the Mexican writers, availing themselves sparingly of extracts, sometimes, at least, favor the public with interesting corrections. Travellers too often have given us too much of Humboldt. Indeed, it may be said, they have fed upon him; they have imbibed him with their pulque, and taken him solid with their toasted tortilla. His _Essay_ has been pulled apart leaf by leaf, to be reprinted page after page in their, for the most part, ephemeral productions. Humboldt in pieces has been dished up to suit all customers. An oyster could not be served in more varieties of style. Even foreign embassies have supplied some of these literary cooks. None of them seemed to know that man, even in Mexico, must have more than Humboldt. In a fervid imagination, they thought he could be improved upon, by reducing the _Essay_ to sublimated extracts. But Doctor Samuel Johnson hinted, long ago, that extracts from a work are as silly specimens of its author as was that by the foolish old Greek, who exhibited a brick from his house as a specimen of its architecture. Mr. Prescott, on the contrary, in his celebrated history of the Conquest, with his usual discriminating judgment, has properly availed himself of the _Essa_y to afford his readers a vivid and veracious picture of the natural configuration of the country. And to understand the country properly, this is the primary lesson to be attentively studied. But it is much to be regretted that Mr. Duport, in his standard French work on the production of its precious metals, was misled by errors existing in the maps accompanying the _Essay_. In consequence, he has made serious mistakes in describing its geological structure, in the run and inclinations of the strata in the silver rock, in the silver-bearing region.

{335}

Whoever desires to comprehend the political condition and the industrial or commercial resources of Mexico, ought to commence as Humboldt commenced. It is only through a strict investigation of its material interests that Mexico can be understood. To begin with an examination of its political history is to begin where the labor should end. Mexico, for three hundred years, was a colony, and, like other colonies, had no history, no policy of its own; no armies, no navies, no wars; nothing of statesmanship peculiar to itself; for all were absorbed in the history of the mother country. When emerging from a colonial chrysalis, it did not become a nation; it may be somewhat doubted if it has even yet reached that position. As a republic, its federal government has been without a policy, its administrations without stability, its finances without an exchequer; its armies unable to conquer abroad, or contend with foreign invaders at home; it has no navy; it is almost destitute of all the essential elements that constitute a people. True, Mexico has had great vicissitudes of fortune, with changes, frequent changes, and for the most part violent overthrows, of the federal rulers. But these convulsions have produced no serious results. The storms passed over without indications of wide-spread disaster. Sunshine came again without any visible improvement; no signs of increasing intelligence, no symptoms of decay to the superficial observer; for these petty conflicts originated in personal motives, and so ended. Having no political object, they are devoid of grave consideration, of any interest or profit. Their civil wars have been of regular periodical return, but these wars are of no more historical significance than the wars of the Saxon Heptarchy. Mexico, for many reasons, must still be contemplated, while a sovereign nation, as she was viewed when a viceroyalty of Spain. The country now appears in Christendom as an enigma full of strange anomalies. In the erroneous estimation of most men, it is hastening on to ruin and decay: calamities that came upon the people in their revolt from Spain, and which will cling to them until their race is extinct. The royal finger of scorn, too, is pointed at the republic, as a reproach and warning to all republican governments of their ultimate failure. It would be vain to waste time on its political records, to elucidate Mexican questions. These annals are dumb. But to the mountains, the mines, the mills, where the rich minerals are produced and industry is developed, the inquirer must go to find out what Mexico really is. In observing the people in their private pursuits, he will imperceptibly be led to comprehend their political institutions. In daily contact with the distinct classes, divided into castes, he will in like manner be soon conversant with the most noted men. Enigmas will vanish upon nearer approach and on closer inspection; anomalies will no longer embarrass. Perhaps previously formed opinions may be shocked, rudely assailed, and demolished. He may see many lingering remnants of Astec superstition in one caste, where they often disobey the priest; and much affectation of infidelity in another, where they kneel as suppliants at the confessional to crave a blessing. He will perceive marks of seeming decay everywhere, amid indications of progress. The federal government will be pronounced not only bad, but bad as government in a republic can be; yet will he find some consolation in knowing that the viceregal government was far worse. In the dregs of a popular polity, some protection for the people will be manifest, which was denied under a king. {336} He will hear Spain, on all sides, spoken of with reverence and respect; he will soon understand, on all sides, that Spaniards are detested. He will be gratified with the cordial welcome bestowed upon Americans; and wonder at the common hatred, in all classes, to the United States. While he is aware that millions upon hundreds of millions of dollars, from outlying provinces torn from the nation, have been yielded to their neighbor on the north, he will also discover that the heart of the Mexican territory has not been reached. Nor need he be surprised when the truth is revealed, that the Liberal executive will sooner forget the hostile invasion by France, than forgive the moral support extended to the native cause by that American neighbor.

On the whole, he may conclude that the Mexicans, after all, are somewhat rational and sensible, not entirely deficient in refinement and intelligence, or in energy and industry. But these opinions can only be formed by pursuing the method of Humboldt, and bearing his elaborate production in mind. By constant comparison of his statements with more recent publications from the Mexican press on the same subjects, not only greater accuracy in details will be reached, along with later information, but the advancement in knowledge and wealth will be made apparent. It is thus a just estimate of Mexico at present with Mexico of the past can be formed; and while many imperfections in the parts of the _Essay_ will be detected, no one can fail to admire and appreciate its general excellence.

One Fold.

"And there shall be one fold."

Disciple.

"One Fold! Good Lord, how poor thou art, To have but one for all! Methinks the rich with shame will smart To stand in common stall With ragged boors and work-grimed men; And ladies fair, with those who when They pray have dirty, hands. Dost think the wise can be devout When, close beside, an ignorant lout With mouth wide-gaping stands?

{337}

I would thou wert a richer Lord, And could an hundred folds afford Where each might find his place. Look round, good Lord, and thou wilt see Most men the same have thought with me, And herd with whom they best agree In fashion, creed, and race."

Master.

"Good child, thou hast a merry thought! But folds like mine cannot be bought, Nor made at fancy's will. If any find my fold too small 'Tis they who like no fold at all, The same who heed no shepherd's call, Whom wolves will find and kill. _My_ fold alone is close and warm, Shielding its inmates from all harm-- Its pastures rich and sweet. Hither, with gentle hand, I bring The peasant and the crownèd king Together at my feet. Here no man flings a look of scorn At him who may be baser born, For all as brothers meet. The wise speak kindly to the rude; The lord would not his slave exclude; Proud dames their servants greet. My fold doth equally embrace The men of every clime and race, And here in peace they rest. Here each forgets his rank and state. And only he is high and great Who loveth me the best. The rich, the poor, the bond, the free, The men of high and low degree, My fold unites in one with me-- With me, the Shepherd, called The Good, Who rules a loving brotherhood. Therefore, in that my fold is one, Believe me, it is wisely done."

{338}

Translated From The French Of M. Vitet.

Science And Faith.

Meditations On The Essence Of The Christian Religion, By M. Guizot.

Some time ago political life seemed to be the prominent occupation in France. M. Guizot was then cautiously defending his opinions, and was really wearing out his energy and his life in this work. At that time, we have heard it wished more than once, not that the struggle should cease, but that death might not surprise him with his mind occupied solely with these passing events. He needed, as a last favor and at the end of an ambitious career, some years of quiet and retreat to meditate upon the future, and to revive the faith of youth by the lessons of riper years. He required this for himself, for the interest of his soul. Nothing then foretold that he would soon be engaged in the arena of metaphysical and religious controversy. The disputes about these questions seemed almost lulled to sleep. Not that doubt and incredulity had surrendered their arms; they followed their accustomed work, but without noise, without parade, and without apparent success. This was a truce which had allowed Christian convictions to become reanimated, to increase, and to gain ground. The proof of this was seen in those gloomy days, when the waves of popular opinion, which threatened to destroy, bent, completely subdued and submissive and with an unlooked-for respect, before sacred truths and the ministers of religion. This was the natural result of that bitter struggle which had lasted for fifteen years. The aggressors could not undertake two sieges at one time, and so political power became the target against which all their efforts were directed.

It is not the same now. Power is protected by an armor which has disheartened its adversaries; and the more surely it is guarded, the more exposed and compromised are other questions, which equal or even exceed it in importance. The spirit of audacity and aggression compensates itself for the forced forbearance from politics, imposed upon it by the political power. It sees that in religious matters the ground is not so well protected; it feels more at ease there and not nearly so hard pushed. From this fact there arises a series of bold attacks of a new order, which scandalize the believing, and astonish the most indifferent, when they think for a moment of the preceding calm. It is no longer men or ministers, it is not a form of government, it is God himself whom they attack? We do not ask that the government should place the least restriction on the rights of free thought, even should it be to the advantage of the truths that we venerate the most. We desire to state the fact, and nothing more. It may be that these attacks are not important enough to cause as much anxiety as they have done. {339} They are passionate, numerous, and skilfully arranged; but they cannot shake the edifice, and will serve rather to strengthen it, by summoning to its aid defenders who are more enlightened, and protectors who are more vigilant. Still, they are a great source of trouble. The restlessness, the distress, and the vague fears that the agitation of political affairs seemed alone capable of producing, now arise in the heart of the domestic circle and in the depths of the individual soul from these new discussions. It is not personal interests that are now risked, but souls that are in danger; and if the crisis is apparently less violent and intense, it is really graver and more menacing, and no one can remain neutral in the struggle.

And so M. Guizot wishes to take a part, and has entered the fray. He is of the number who, at certain times and upon certain subjects, do not know how to be silent. In politics he held back and he forbore. He saw the events, but he did not say what he thought of them. His debt in politics is now amply paid; all the more since he owed it to himself, as well as to his cause, to reestablish the real sense, the true physiognomy of the things he