No More Learning

He complains of being obliged to submit
to fate, and to the audacious undertaking of the Portuguese, and
foretells them all the misfortunes they must undergo in the Indies. I
believe that such a fiction would be thought noble and proper in all
ages, and in all nations.

"There is another, which perhaps would have pleased the Italians as well
as the Portuguese, but no other nation besides: it is the enchanted
island, called the Island of Bliss, which the fleet finds in its way
home, just rising from the sea, for their comfort, and for their reward.
Camoens describes that place, as Tasso some years after depicted his
island of Armida. There a supernatural power brings in all the beauties,
and presents all the pleasures which nature can afford, and the heart
may wish for; a goddess, enamoured with Vasco de Gama, carries him to
the top of a high mountain, from whence she shows him all the kingdoms
of the earth, and foretells the fate of Portugal.

"After Camoens hath given loose to his fancy, in the description of the
pleasures which Gama and his crew enjoyed in the island, he takes care
to inform the reader that he ought to understand by this fiction nothing
but the satisfaction which the virtuous man feels, and the glory which
accrues to him, by the practice of virtue; but the best excuse for such
an invention is the charming style in which it is delivered (if we may
believe the Portuguese), for the beauty of the elocution sometimes makes
amends for the faults of the poet, as the colouring of Rubens makes some
defects in his figures pass unregarded.

"There is _another_ kind of machinery continued throughout all the poem,
which nothing can excuse; that is, an injudicious mixture of the heathen
gods with our religion. Gama in a storm addresses his prayers to Christ,
but it is Venus who comes to his relief; the heroes are Christians, and
the poet heathen. The main design which the Portuguese are supposed to
have (next to promoting their trade) is to propagate Christianity; yet
Jupiter, Bacchus, and Venus, have in their hands all the management of
the voyage. So incongruous a machinery casts a blemish upon the whole
poem; yet it shows at the same time how prevailing are its beauties
since the Portuguese like it with all its faults. "

The Lusiad, says Voltaire, contains "a sort of epic poetry unheard of
before. No heroes are wounded a thousand different ways; no woman
enticed away, and the world overturned for her cause. " But the very want
of these, in place of supporting the objection intended by Voltaire,
points out the happy judgment and peculiar excellence of Camoens. If
Homer has given us all the fire and hurry of battles, he has also given
us all the uninteresting, tiresome detail. What reader but must be
tired with the deaths of a thousand heroes, who are never mentioned
before, nor afterwards, in the poem. Yet, in every battle we are wearied
out with such _Gazette_-returns of the slain and wounded as--

"Hector Priamides when Zeus him glory gave,
Assaeus first, Autonous, he slew;
Ophites, Dolops, Klytis' son beside;
Opheltius also, Agelaus too,
AEsymnus, and the battle-bide
Hipponous, chiefs on Danaian side,
And then, the multitude. "

HOMER'S Iliad, bk. xi. 299, et seq. ,
(W. G. T. BARTER'S translation. )

And corresponding to it is Virgil's AEneid, bk. x. line 747, et seq. :--

"By Caedicus Alcathous was slain;
Sacrator laid Hydaspes on the plain;
Orses the strong to greater strength must yield,
He, with Parthenius, were by Rapo killed.
Then brave Messapus Ericetes slew,
Who from Lycaon's blood his lineage drew. "

DRYDEN'S version.

With, such catalogues is every battle extended; and what can be more
tiresome than such uninteresting descriptions, and their imitations! If
the idea of the battle be raised by such enumeration, still the copy and
original are so near each other that they can never please in two
separate poems. Nor are the greater part of the battles of the AEneid
much more distant than those of the Iliad. Though Virgil with great art
has introduced a Camilla, a Pallas, and a Lausus, still, in many
particulars, and in the action upon the whole, there is such a sameness
with the Iliad, that the learned reader of the AEneid is deprived of the
pleasure inspired by originality. If the man of taste, however, will be
pleased to mark how the genius of a Virgil has managed a war after
Homer, he will certainly be tired with a dozen epic poems in the same
style. Where the siege of a town and battles are the subject of an epic,
there will, of necessity, in the characters and circumstances, be a
resemblance to Homer; and such poem must therefore want originality.
Happily for Tasso, the variation of manners, and his masterly
superiority over Homer in describing his duels, has given to his
Jerusalem an air of novelty. Yet, with all the difference between
Christian and pagan heroes, we have a Priam, an Agamemnon, an Achilles,
etc. , armies slaughtered, and a city besieged. In a word, we have a
handsome copy of the Iliad in the Jerusalem Delivered. If some
imitations, however, have been successful, how many other epics of
ancient and modern times have hurried down the stream of oblivion! Some
of their authors had poetical merit, but the fault was in the choice of
their subjects. So fully is the strife of war exhausted by Homer, that
Virgil and Tasso could add to it but little novelty; no wonder,
therefore, that so many epics on battles and sieges have been suffered
to sink into utter neglect. Camoens, perhaps, did not weigh these
circumstances, but the strength of his poetical genius directed him. He
could not but feel what it was to read Virgil after Homer; and the
original turn and force of his mind led him from the beaten track of
Helen's and Lavinia's, Achilles's and Hector's sieges and slaughters,
where the hero hews down, and drives to flight, whole armies with his
own sword. Camoens was the first who wooed the modern Epic Muse, and she
gave him the wreath of a first lover; a sort of epic poetry unheard of
before; or, as Voltaire calls it, _une nouvelle espece d'epopee_; and
the grandest subject it is (of profane history) which the world has ever
beheld. [14] A voyage esteemed too great for man to dare; the adventures
of this voyage through unknown oceans deemed unnavigable; the eastern
world happily discovered, and for ever indissolubly joined and given to
the western; the grand Portuguese empire in the East founded; the
humanization of mankind, and universal commerce the consequence! What
are the adventures of an old, fabulous hero's arrival in Britain, what
are Greece and Latium in arms for a woman compared to this! Troy is in
ashes, and even the Roman empire is no more. But the effects of the
voyage, adventures, and bravery of the hero of the Lusiad will be felt
and beheld, and perhaps increase in importance, while the world shall
remain.

Happy in his choice, happy also was the genius of Camoens in the method
of pursuing his subject. He has not, like Tasso, given it a total
appearance of fiction; nor has he, like Lucan, excluded allegory and
poetical machinery. Whether he intended it or not (for his genius was
sufficient to suggest its propriety), the judicious precept of
Petronius[15] is the model of the Lusiad. That elegant writer proposes a
poem on the civil war, and no poem, ancient or modern, merits the
character there sketched out in any degree comparative to the Lusiad. A
truth of history is preserved; yet, what is improper for the historian,
the ministry of Heaven is employed, and the free spirit of poetry throws
itself into fictions which makes the whole appear as an effusion of
prophetic fury, and not like a rigid detail of facts, given under the
sanction of witnesses. Contrary to Lucan, who, in the above rules, drawn
from the nature of poetry, is severely condemned by Petronius, Camoens
conducts his poem _per ambages Deorumque ministeria_. The apparition,
which in the night hovers athwart the fleet near the Cape of Good Hope,
is the grandest fiction in human composition; the invention his own! In
the Island of Venus, the use of which fiction in an epic poem is also
his own, he has given the completest assemblage of all the flowers which
have ever adorned the bowers of love. And, never was the _furentis animi
vaticinatio_ more conspicuously displayed than in the prophetic song,
the view of the spheres, and the globe of the earth. Tasso's imitation
of the Island of Venus is not equal to the original; and, though
"Virgil's myrtles[16] dropping blood are nothing to Tasso's enchanted
forest," what are all Ismeno's enchantments to the grandeur and horror
of the appearance, prophecy, and vanishment of the spectre of
Camoens! [17] It has long been agreed among critics, that the solemnity
of religious observances gives great dignity to the historical narrative
of epic poetry. Camoens, in the embarkation of the fleet, and in several
other places, is peculiarly happy in the dignity of religious
allusions. Manners and character are also required in the epic poem. But
all the epics which have appeared are, except two, mere copies of the
Iliad in these respects. Every one has its Agamemnon, Achilles, Ajax,
and Ulysses; its calm, furious, gross, and intelligent hero. Camoens and
Milton happily left this beaten track, this exhausted field, and have
given us pictures of manners unknown in the Iliad, the AEneid, and all
those poems which may be classed with the Thebaid. The Lusiad abounds
with pictures of manners, from those of the highest chivalry to those of
the rudest, fiercest, and most innocent barbarism. In the fifth, sixth,
and ninth books, Leonardo and Veloso are painted in stronger colours
than any of the inferior characters in Virgil. But _character_, indeed,
is not the excellence of the AEneid. That of Monzaida, the friend of
Gama, is much superior to that of Achates. The base, selfish, perfidious
and cruel character of the Zamorim and the Moors, are painted in the
strongest colours; and the character of Gama himself is that of the
finished hero. His cool command of his passions, his deep sagacity, his
fixed intrepidity, his tenderness of heart, his manly piety, and his
high enthusiasm in the love of his country are all displayed in the
superlative degree. Let him who objects the want of character to the
Lusiad, beware lest he stumble upon its praise; lest he only say, it
wants an Achilles, a Hector, and a Priam. And, to the novelty of the
manners of the Lusiad let the novelty of fire-arms also be added. It has
been said that the buckler, the bow, and the spear, must continue the
arms of poetry. Yet, however unsuccessful others may have been, Camoens
has proved that fire-arms may be introduced with the greatest dignity,
and the finest effect in the epic poem.

As the grand interest of commerce and of mankind forms the subject of
the Lusiad, so, with great propriety, as necessary accompaniments to the
voyage of his hero, the author has given poetical pictures of the four
parts of the world--in the third book a view of Europe; in the fifth, a
view of Africa; and in the tenth, a picture of Asia and America. Homer
and Virgil have been highly praised for their judgment in the choice of
subjects which interested their countrymen, and Statius has been as
severely condemned for his uninteresting choice. But, though the subject
of Camoens be particularly interesting to his own countrymen, it has
also the peculiar happiness to be the poem of every trading nation. It
is the epic poem of the birth of commerce, and, in a particular manner,
the epic poem of whatever country has the control and possession of the
commerce of India. [18]

An unexhausted fertility and variety of poetical description, an
unexhausted elevation of sentiment, and a constant tenor of the grand
simplicity of diction, complete the character of the Lusiad of Camoens:
a poem which, though it has hitherto received from the public most
unmerited neglect, and from the critics most flagrant injustice, was yet
better understood by the greatest poet of Italy. Tasso never did his
judgment more credit than when he confessed that he dreaded Camoens as a
rival; or his generosity more honour than when he addressed the elegant
sonnet to the hero of the Lusiad, commencing--

"Vasco, le cui felici, ardite antenne
In contro al sol, che ne riporta il giorno. "

It only remains to give some account of the version of the Lusiad which
is now offered to the public. Beside the translations mentioned in the
life of Camoens, M. Duperron De Castera, in 1735, gave, in French prose,
a loose unpoetical paraphrase[19] of the Lusiad. Nor does Sir Richard
Fanshaw's English version, published during the usurpation of Cromwell,
merit a better character. Though stanza be rendered for stanza, though
at first view it has the appearance of being exceedingly literal, this
version is nevertheless exceedingly unfaithful. Uncountenanced by his
original, Fanshaw--

"Teems with many a dead-born just. "[20]

Nor had he the least idea of the dignity of the epic style,[21] or of
the true spirit of poetical translation. For this, indeed, no definite
rule can be given. The translator's feelings alone must direct him, for
the spirit of poetry is sure to evaporate in literal translation.

Indeed, literal translation of poetry is a solecism. You may construe
your author, indeed, but, if with some translators you boast that you
have left your author to speak for himself, that you have neither added
nor diminished, you have in reality grossly abused him, and deceived
yourself. Your literal translation can have no claim to the original
felicities of expression; the energy, elegance, and fire of the original
poetry. It may bear, indeed, a resemblance; but such a one as a corpse
in the sepulchre bears to the former man when he moved in the bloom and
vigour of life.

_Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere, fidus
Interpres,_

was the taste of the Augustan age. None but a poet can translate a poet.
The freedom which this precept gives, will, therefore, in a poet's
hands, not only infuse the energy, elegance, and fire of his author's
poetry into his own version, but will give it also the spirit of an
original.

He who can construe may perform all that is claimed by the literal
translator. He who attempts the manner of translation prescribed by
Horace, ventures upon a task of genius. Yet, however daring the
undertaking, and however he may have failed in it, the translator
acknowledges, that in this spirit he has endeavoured to give the Lusiad
in English. Even farther liberties, in one or two instances, seemed to
him advantageous---- But a minuteness[22] in the mention of these will
not appear with a good grace in this edition of his work; and besides,
the original is in the hands of the world.




MICKLE'S INTRODUCTION TO THE LUSIAD.


If a concatenation of events centred in one great action--events which
gave birth to the present commercial system of the world--if these be of
the first importance in the civil history of mankind, then the Lusiad,
of all other poems, challenges the attention of the philosopher, the
politician, and the gentleman.

In contradistinction to the Iliad and the AEneid, the Paradise Lost has
been called the Epic Poem of Religion. In the same manner may the Lusiad
be named the Epic Poem of Commerce. The happy completion of the most
important designs of Henry, Duke of Viseo, prince of Portugal, to whom
Europe owes both Gama and Columbus, both the eastern and the western
worlds, constitutes the subject of this celebrated epic poem. But before
we proceed to the historical introduction necessary to elucidate a poem
founded on such an important period of history, some attention is due to
the opinion of those theorists in political philosophy who lament that
India was ever discovered, and who assert that increase of trade is only
the parent of degeneracy, and the nurse of every vice.

Much, indeed, may be urged on this side of the question; but much, also,
may be urged against every institution relative to man. Imperfection, if
not necessary to humanity, is at least the certain attendant on
everything human. Though some part of the traffic with many countries
resemble Solomon's importation of apes and peacocks; though the
superfluities of life, the baubles of the opulent, and even the luxuries
which enervate the irresolute and administer disease, are introduced by
the intercourse of navigation, yet the extent of the benefits which
attend it are also to be considered before the man of cool reason will
venture to pronounce that the world is injured, and rendered less
virtuous and happy by the increase of commerce.

If a view of the state of mankind, where commerce opens no intercourse
between nation and nation be neglected, unjust conclusions will
certainly follow. Where the state of barbarians, and of countries under
different degrees of civilization are candidly weighed, we may
reasonably expect a just decision. As evidently as the appointment of
nature gives pasture to the herds, so evidently is man born for society.
As every other animal is in its natural state when in the situation
which its instinct requires, so man, when his reason is cultivated, is
then, and only then, in the state proper to his nature. The life of the
naked savage, who feeds on acorns and sleeps like a beast in his den, is
commonly called the natural state of man; but, if there be any propriety
in this assertion, his rational faculties compose no part of his nature,
and were given not to be used. If the savage, therefore, live in a state
contrary to the appointment of nature, it must follow that he is not so
happy as nature intended him to be. And a view of his true character
will confirm this conclusion. The reveries, the fairy dreams of a
Rousseau, may figure the paradisaical life of a Hottentot, but it is
only in such dreams that the superior happiness of the barbarian exists.
The savage, it is true, is reluctant to leave his manner of life; but,
unless we allow that he is a proper judge of the modes of living, his
attachment to his own by no means proves that he is happier than he
might otherwise have been. His attachment only exemplifies the amazing
power of habit in reconciling the human breast to the most uncomfortable
situations. If the intercourse of mankind in some instances be
introductive of vice, the want of it as certainly excludes the exertion
of the noblest virtues; and, if the seeds of virtue are indeed in the
heart, they often lie dormant, and even unknown to the savage possessor.
The most beautiful description of a tribe of savages (which we may be
assured is from real life) occurs in these words:[23] And the five spies
of Dan "came to Laish, and saw the people that were there, how they
dwelt careless, after the manner of the Zidonians, quiet and secure; and
there was no magistrate in the land, that might put them to shame in
anything. . . . " And the spies said to their brethren, "Arise, that we may
go up against them; for we have seen the land, and, behold, it is very
good. . . . And they came unto Laish, unto a people that were at quiet and
secure: and they smote them with the edge of the sword, and burnt the
city with fire. And there was no deliverer, because it was far from
Zidon, and they had no business with any man. " However the happy
simplicity of this society may please the man of fine imagination, the
true philosopher will view the men of Laish with other eyes. However
virtuous he may suppose one generation, it requires an alteration of
human nature to preserve the children of the next in the same generous
estrangement from the selfish passions--from those passions which are
the parents of the acts of injustice. When his wants are easily
supplied, the manners of the savage will be simple, and often humane,
for the human heart is not vicious without objects of temptation. But
these will soon occur; he that gathers the greatest quantity of fruit
will be envied by the less industrious. The uninformed mind seems
insensible of the idea of the right of possession which the labour of
acquirement gives. When want is pressing, and the supply at hand, the
only consideration with such minds is the danger of seizing it; and
where there is no magistrate to put to shame in anything, depredation
will soon display all its horrors. Let it even be admitted that the
innocence of the men of Laish could secure them from the consequences of
their own unrestrained desires, could even this impossibility be
surmounted, still are they a wretched prey to the first invaders, and
because they have no business with any man, they will find no deliverer.
While human nature is the same, the fate of Laish will always be the
fate of the weak and defenceless; and thus the most amiable description
of savage life raises in our minds the strongest imagery of the misery
and impossible continuance of such a state. But if the view of these
innocent people terminate in horror, with what contemplation shall we
behold the wilds of Africa and America? The tribes of America, it is
true, have degrees of policy greatly superior to anything understood by
the men of Laish. Great masters of martial oratory, their popular
assemblies are schools open to all their youth. In these they not only
learn the history of their nation, and what they have to fear from the
strength and designs of their enemies, but they also imbibe the most
ardent spirit of war. The arts of stratagem are their study, and the
most athletic exercises of the field their employment and delight; and,
what is their greatest praise, they have magistrates "to put them to
shame. " They inflict no corporeal punishment on their countrymen, it is
true; but a reprimand from an elder, delivered in the assembly, is
esteemed by them a deeper degradation and severer punishment than any of
those too often most impolitically adopted by civilized nations. Yet,
though possessed of this advantage--an advantage impossible to exist in
a large commercial empire--and though masters of great martial policy,
their condition, upon the whole, is big with the most striking
demonstration of the misery and unnatural state of such very imperfect
civilization. "Multiply and replenish the earth" is an injunction of the
best political philosophy ever given to man. Nature has appointed man to
cultivate the earth, to increase in number by the food which its culture
gives, and by this increase of brethren to remove some, and to mitigate
all, the natural miseries of human life. But in direct opposition to
this is the political state of the wild aborigines of America. Their
lands, luxuriant in climate, are often desolate wastes, where thousands
of miles hardly support a few hundreds of savage hunters. Attachment to
their own tribe constitutes their highest idea of virtue; but this
virtue includes the most brutal depravity, makes them esteem the man of
every other tribe as an enemy, as one with whom nature had placed them
in a state of war, and had commanded to destroy. [24] And to this
principle their customs and ideas of honour serve as rituals and
ministers. The cruelties practised by the American savages on their
prisoners of war (and war is their chief employment) convey every idea
expressed by the word diabolical, and give a most shocking view of the
degradation of human nature. But what peculiarly completes the character
of the savage is his horrible superstition. In the most distant nations
the savage is, in this respect, the same. The terror of evil spirits
continually haunts him; his God is beheld as a relentless tyrant, and is
worshipped often with cruel rites, always with a heart full of horror
and fear. In all the numerous accounts of savage worship, one trace of
filial dependence is not to be found. The very reverse of that happy
idea is the hell of the ignorant mind. Nor is this barbarism confined
alone to those ignorant tribes whom we call savages. The vulgar of every
country possess it in certain degrees, proportionated to their
opportunities of conversation with the more enlightened. Sordid
disposition and base ferocity, together with the most unhappy
superstition, are everywhere the proportionate attendants of ignorance
and severe want. And ignorance and want are only removed by intercourse
and the offices of society. So self-evident are these positions, that it
requires an apology for insisting upon them; but the apology is at hand.
He who has read knows how many eminent writers,[25] and he who has
conversed knows how many respectable names, connect the idea of
innocence and happiness with the life of the savage and the unimproved
rustic. To fix the character of the savage is therefore necessary, ere
we examine the assertion, that "it had been happy for both the old and
the new worlds if the East and West Indies had never been discovered. "
The bloodshed and the attendant miseries which the unparalleled rapine
and cruelties of the Spaniards spread over the new world, indeed
disgrace human nature. The great and flourishing empires of Mexico and
Peru, steeped in the blood of forty millions of their sons, present a
melancholy prospect, which must excite the indignation of every good
heart. Yet such desolation is not the certain consequence of discovery.
And, even should we allow that the depravity of human nature is so great
that the avarice of the merchant and rapacity of the soldier will
overwhelm with misery every new-discovered country, still, are there
other, more comprehensive views, to be taken, ere we decide against the
intercourse introduced by navigation. When we weigh the happiness of
Europe in the scale of political philosophy, we are not to confine our
eye to the dreadful ravages of Attila the Hun, or of Alaric the Goth. If
the waters of a stagnated lake are disturbed by the spade when led into
new channels, we ought not to inveigh against the alteration because the
waters are fouled at the first; we are to wait to see the streamlets
refine and spread beauty and utility through a thousand vales which they
never visited before. Such were the conquests of Alexander, temporary
evils, but civilization and happiness followed in the bloody track. And,
though disgraced with every barbarity, happiness has also followed the
conquests of the Spaniards in the other hemisphere. Though the villainy
of the Jesuits defeated their schemes of civilization in many countries,
the labours of that society have been crowned with a success in Paraguay
and in Canada, which reflects upon their industry the greatest honour.
The customs and cruelties of many American tribes still disgrace human
nature, but in Paraguay and Canada the natives have been brought to
relish the blessings of society, and the arts of virtuous and civil
life. If Mexico is not so populous as it once was, neither is it so
barbarous;[26] the shrieks of the human victim do not now resound from
temple to temple, nor does the human heart, held up reeking to the sun,
imprecate the vengeance of Heaven on the guilty empire. And, however
impolitically despotic the Spanish governments may be, still do these
colonies enjoy the opportunities of improvement, which in every age
arise from the knowledge of commerce and of letters--opportunities which
were never enjoyed in South America under the reigns of Montezuma and
Atabalipa. But if from Spanish, we turn our eyes to British America,
what a glorious prospect! Here, formerly, on the wild lawn, perhaps
twice in the year, a few savage hunters kindled their evening fire,
kindled it more to protect them from evil spirits and beasts of prey,
than from the cold, and with their feet pointed to it, slept on the
ground. Here, now, population spreads her thousands, and society appears
in all its blessings of mutual help, and the mutual lights of
intellectual improvement. "What work of art, or power, or public
utility, has ever equalled the glory of having peopled a continent,
without guilt or bloodshed, with a multitude of free and happy
commonwealths; to have given them the best arts of life and government! "
To have given a savage continent an image of the British Constitution
is, indeed, the greatest glory of the British crown, "a greater than any
other nation ever acquired;" and from the consequences of the genius of
Henry, Duke of Viseo, did the British American empire arise, an empire
which, unless retarded by the illiberal and inhuman spirit of religious
fanaticism, will in a few centuries, perhaps, be the glory of the world.

Stubborn indeed must be the theorist who will deny the improvement,
virtue, and happiness which, in the result, the voyage of Columbus has
spread over the western world. The happiness which Europe and Asia have
received from the intercourse with each other, cannot hitherto, it must
be owned, be compared either with the possession of it, or the source of
its increase established in America. Yet, let the man of the most
melancholy views estimate all the wars and depredations which are
charged upon the Portuguese and other European nations, still will the
eastern world appear considerably advantaged by the voyage of Gama. If
seas of blood have been shed by the Portuguese, nothing new was
introduced into India. War and depredation were no unheard-of strangers
on the banks of the Ganges, nor could the nature of the civil
establishments of the eastern nations secure a lasting peace. The
ambition of their native princes was only diverted into new channels,
into channels which, in the natural course of human affairs, will
certainly lead to permanent governments, established on improved laws
and just dominion. Yet, even ere such governments are formed, is Asia no
loser by the arrival of Europeans. The horrid massacres and unbounded
rapine which, according to their own annals, followed the victories of
their Asian conquerors were never equalled by the worst of their
European vanquishers. Nor is the establishment of improved governments
in the East the dream of theory. The superiority of the civil and
military arts of the British, notwithstanding the hateful character of
some individuals, is at this day beheld in India with all the
astonishment of admiration; and admiration is always followed, though
often with retarded steps, by the strong desire of similar improvement.
Long after the fall of the Roman empire the Roman laws were adopted by
nations which ancient Rome esteemed as barbarous. And thus, in the
course of ages, the British laws, according to every test of
probability, will have a most important effect, will fulfil the prophecy
of Camoens, and transfer to the British the high compliment he pays to
his countrymen--

"Beneath their sway majestic, wise, and mild,
Proud of her victor's laws thrice happier India smiled. "

In former ages, and within these few years, the fertile empire of India
has exhibited every scene of human misery, under the undistinguishing
ravages of their Mohammedan and native princes; ravages only equalled
in European history by those committed under Atilla, surnamed "the
scourge of God," and "the destroyer of nations. " The ideas of patriotism
and of honour were seldom known in the cabinets of the eastern princes
till the arrival of the Europeans. Every species of assassination was
the policy of their courts, and every act of unrestrained rapine and
massacre followed the path of victory. But some of the Portuguese
governors, and many of the English officers, have taught them that
humanity to the conquered is the best, the truest policy. The brutal
ferocity of their own conquerors is now the object of their greatest
dread; and the superiority of the British in war has convinced their
princes,[27] that an alliance with the British is the surest guarantee
of their national peace and prosperity. While the English East India
Company are possessed of their present greatness, it is in their power
to diffuse over the East every blessing which flows from the wisest and
most humane policy.
Long ere the Europeans arrived, a failure of the
crop of rice, the principal food of India, had spread the devastations
of famine over the populous plains of Bengal. And never, from the seven
years' famine of ancient Egypt to the present day, was there a natural
scarcity in any country which did not enrich the proprietors of the
granaries. The Mohammedan princes, and Moorish traders have often added
all the horrors of an artificial, to a natural, famine. But, however
some Portuguese or other governors may stand accused, much was left for
the humanity of the more exalted policy of an Albuquerque, or a Castro.
And under such European governors as these, the distresses of the East
have often been alleviated by a generosity of conduct, and a train of
resources formerly unknown in Asia. Absurd and impracticable were that
scheme which would introduce the British laws into India without the
deepest regard to the manners and circumstances peculiar to the people.
But that spirit of liberty upon which they are founded, and that
security of property which is their leading principle, must in time have
a wide and stupendous effect. The abject spirit of Asiatic submission
will be taught to see, and to claim, those rights of nature, of which
the dispirited and passive Hindus could, till lately, hardly form an
idea. From this, as naturally as the noon succeeds the dawn, must the
other blessings of civilization arise. For, though the four great castes
of India are almost inaccessible to the introduction of other manners,
and of other literature than their own, happily there is in human nature
a propensity to change. Nor may the political philosopher be deemed an
enthusiast who would boldly prophesy, that unless the British be driven
from India the general superiority which they bear will, ere many
generations shall have passed, induce the most intelligent of India to
break the shackles of their absurd superstitions,[28] and lead them to
partake of those advantages which arise from the free scope and due
cultivation of the rational powers. In almost every instance the Indian
institutions are contrary to the feelings and wishes of nature. And
ignorance and bigotry, their two chief pillars, can never secure
unalterable duration. We have certain proof that the horrid custom of
burning the wives along with the body of the deceased husband has
continued for upwards of fifteen hundred years; we are also certain that
within these twenty years it has begun to fall into disuse. Together
with the alteration of this most striking feature of Indian manners,
other assimilations to European sentiments have already taken place. Nor
can the obstinacy even of the conceited Chinese always resist the desire
of imitating the Europeans, a people who in arts and arms are so greatly
superior to themselves. The use of the twenty-four letters, by which we
can express every language, appeared at first as miraculous to the
Chinese. Prejudice cannot always deprive that people, who are not
deficient in selfish cunning, of the ease and expedition of an alphabet;
and it is easy to foresee that, in the course of a few centuries, some
alphabet will certainly take the place of the 60,000 arbitrary marks
which now render the cultivation of the Chinese literature not only a
labour of the utmost difficulty, but even the attainment impossible
beyond a very limited degree. And from the introduction of an alphabet,
what improvements may not be expected from the laborious industry of the
Chinese! Though most obstinately attached to their old customs, yet
there is a tide in the manners of nations which is sudden and rapid, and
which acts with a kind of instinctive fury against ancient prejudice and
absurdity. It was that nation of merchants, the Phoenicians, which
diffused the use of letters through the ancient, and commerce will
undoubtedly diffuse the same blessings through the modern, world.

To this view of the political happiness which is sure to be introduced
in proportion to civilization, let the divine add what may be reasonably
expected from such opportunity of the increase of religion. A factory of
merchants, indeed, has seldom been found to be a school of piety; yet,
when the general manners of a people become assimilated to those of a
more rational worship, something more than ever was produced by an
infant mission, or the neighbourhood of an infant colony, may then be
reasonably expected, and even foretold.

In estimating the political happiness of a people, nothing is of greater
importance than their capacity of, and tendency to, improvement. As a
dead lake, to continue our former illustration, will remain in the same
state for ages and ages, so would the bigotry and superstitions of the
East continue the same. But if the lake is begun to be opened into a
thousand rivulets, who knows over what unnumbered fields, barren before,
they may diffuse the blessings of fertility, and turn a dreary
wilderness into a land of society and joy.

In contrast to this, let the Gold Coast and other immense regions of
Africa be contemplated--

"Afric behold; alas, what altered view!
Her lands uncultured, and her sons untrue;
Ungraced with all that sweetens human life,
Savage and fierce they roam in brutal strife;
Eager they grasp the gifts which culture yields,
Yet naked roam their own neglected fields. . . .
Unnumber'd tribes as bestial grazers stray,
By laws unform'd, unform'd by Reason's sway.
Far inward stretch the mournful sterile dales,
Where on the parch'd hill-side pale famine wails. "

LUSIAD X.

Let us consider how many millions of these unhappy savages are dragged
from their native fields, and cut off for ever from all the hopes and
all the rights to which human birth entitled them. And who would
hesitate to pronounce that negro the greatest of patriots, who, by
teaching his countrymen the arts of society, should teach them to defend
themselves in the possession of their fields, their families, and their
own personal liberties?

Evident, however, as it is, that the voyages of Gama and Columbus have
already carried a superior degree of happiness, and the promise of
infinitely more, to the eastern and western worlds; yet the advantages
to Europe from the discovery of these regions may perhaps be denied. But
let us view what Europe was, ere the genius of Don Henry gave birth to
the spirit of modern discovery.

Several ages before this period the feudal system had degenerated into
the most absolute tyranny. The barons exercised the most despotic
authority over their vassals, and every scheme of public utility was
rendered impracticable by their continual petty wars with each other; to
which they led their dependents as dogs to the chase. Unable to read, or
to write his own name, the chieftain was entirely possessed by the most
romantic opinion of military glory, and the song of his domestic
minstrel constituted his highest idea of fame. The classic authors slept
on the shelves of the monasteries, their dark but happy asylum, while
the life of the monks resembled that of the fattened beeves which loaded
their tables. Real abilities were indeed possessed by a Duns Scotus and
a few others; but these were lost in the most trifling subtleties of a
sophistry which they dignified with the name of casuistical divinity.
Whether Adam and Eve were created with navels? and How many thousand
angels might at the same instant dance upon the point of the finest
needle without one jostling another? were two of the several topics of
like importance which excited the acumen and engaged the controversies
of the learned. While every branch of philosophical, of rational
investigation, was thus unpursued and unknown, commerce, which is
incompatible with the feudal system, was equally neglected and
unimproved. Where the mind is enlarged and enlightened by learning,
plans of commerce will rise into action, and these, in return, will from
every part of the world bring new acquirements to philosophy and
science. The birth of learning and commerce may be different, but their
growth is mutual and dependent upon each other. They not only assist
each other, but the same enlargement of mind which is necessary for
perfection in the one is also necessary for perfection in the other; and
the same causes impede, and are alike destructive of, both. The
INTERCOURSE of mankind is the parent of each. According to the
confinement or extent of intercourse, barbarity or civilization
proportionately prevail. In the dark, monkish ages, the intercourse of
the learned was as much impeded and confined as that of the merchant. A
few unwieldy vessels coasted the shores of Europe, and mendicant friars
and ignorant pilgrims carried a miserable account of what was passing in
the world from monastery to monastery. What doctor had last disputed on
the peripatetic philosophy at some university, or what new heresy had
last appeared, not only comprised the whole of their literary
intelligence, but was delivered with little accuracy, and received with
as little attention. While this thick cloud of mental darkness
overspread the western world, was Don Henry, prince of Portugal, born;
born to set mankind free from the feudal system, and to give to the
whole world every advantage, every light that may possibly be diffused
by the intercourse of unlimited commerce:--

"For then from ancient gloom emerg'd
The rising world of trade: the genius, then,
Of navigation, that in hopeless sloth
Had slumber'd on the vast Atlantic deep
For idle ages, starting heard at last
The Lusitanian prince, who, Heaven-inspir'd,
To love of useful glory rous'd mankind,
And in unbounded commerce mix'd the world. "

THOMSON.

In contrast to this melancholy view of human nature, sunk in barbarism
and benighted with ignorance, let the present state of Europe be
impartially estimated. Yet, though the great increase of opulence and
learning cannot be denied, there are some who assert that virtue and
happiness have as greatly declined. And the immense overflow of riches,
from the East in particular, has been pronounced big with destruction to
the British empire. Everything human, it is true, has its dark as well
as its bright side; but let these popular complaints be examined, and it
will be found that modern Europe, and the British empire in a very
particular manner, have received the greatest and most solid advantages
from the modern, enlarged system of commerce. The magic of the old
romances, which could make the most withered, deformed hag, appear as
the most beautiful virgin, is every day verified in popular declamation.
Ancient days are there painted in the most amiable simplicity, and the
modern in the most odious colours. Yet, what man of fortune in England
lives in that stupendous gross luxury which every day was exhibited in
the Gothic castles of the old chieftains! Four or five hundred knights
and squires in the domestic retinue of a warlike earl was not uncommon,
nor was the pomp of embroidery inferior to the profuse waste of their
tables; in both instances unequalled by all the mad excesses of the
present age.

While the baron thus lived in all the wild glare of Gothic luxury,
agriculture was almost totally neglected, and his meaner vassals fared
harder, infinitely less comfortably, than the meanest industrious
labourers of England do now; where the lands are uncultivated, the
peasants, ill-clothed, ill-lodged, and poorly fed, pass their miserable
days in sloth and filth, totally ignorant of every advantage, of every
comfort which nature lays at their feet. He who passes from the trading
towns and cultured fields of England to those remote villages of
Scotland or Ireland which claim this description, is astonished at the
comparative wretchedness of their destitute inhabitants; but few
consider that these villages only exhibit a view of what Europe was ere
the spirit of commerce diffused the blessings which naturally flow from
her improvements. In the Hebrides the failure of a harvest almost
depopulates an island. Having little or no traffic to purchase grain,
numbers of the young and hale betake themselves to the continent in
quest of employment and food, leaving a few, less adventurous, behind,
to beget a new race, the heir of the same fortune. Yet from the same
cause, from the want of traffic, the kingdom of England has often felt
more dreadful effects than these. Even in the days when her Henries and
Edwards plumed themselves with the trophies of France, how often has
famine spread all her horrors over city and village? Our modern
histories neglect this characteristic feature of ancient days; but the
rude chronicles of these ages inform us, that three or four times in
almost every reign was England thus visited. The failure of the crop was
then severely felt, and two bad harvests in succession were almost
insupportable. But commerce has now opened another scene, has armed
government with the happiest power that can be exerted by the rulers of
a nation--the power to prevent every extremity[29] which may possibly
arise from bad harvests; extremities, which, in former ages, were
esteemed more dreadful visitations of the wrath of Heaven than the
pestilence itself. Yet modern London is not so certainly defended
against the latter, its ancient visitor, than the commonwealth by the
means of commerce, under a just and humane government, is secured
against the ravages of the former. If, from these great outlines of the
happiness enjoyed by a commercial over an uncommercial nation, we turn
our eyes to the manners, the advantages will be found no less in favour
of the civilized.

Whoever is inclined to declaim at the vices of the present age, let him
read, and be convinced, that the Gothic ages were less virtuous. If the
spirit of chivalry prevented effeminacy, it was the foster-father of a
ferocity of manners now happily unknown. Rapacity, avarice, and
effeminacy are the vices ascribed to the increase of commerce; and in
some degree, it must be confessed, they follow her steps. Yet infinitely
more dreadful, as every palatinate in Europe often felt, were the
effects of the two first under the feudal lords than can possibly be
experienced under any system of trade. The virtues and vices of human
nature are the same in every age: they only receive different
modifications, and are dormant, or awakened into action, under different
circumstances. The feudal lord had it infinitely more in his power to be
rapacious than the merchant. And whatever avarice may attend the trader,
his intercourse with the rest of mankind lifts him greatly above that
brutish ferocity which actuates the savage, often the rustic, and in
general characterizes the ignorant part of mankind. The abolition of the
feudal system, a system of absolute slavery, and that equality of
mankind which affords the protection of property, and every other
incitement to industry, are the glorious gifts which the spirit of
commerce, awakened by Prince Henry of Portugal, has bestowed upon Europe
in general; and, as if directed by the manes of his mother, a daughter
of England, upon the British empire in particular. In the vice of
effeminacy alone, perhaps, do we exceed our ancestors; yet, even here we
have infinitely the advantage over them. The brutal ferocity of former
ages is now lost, and the general mind is humanized. The savage breast
is the native soil of revenge; a vice, of all others, peculiarly stamped
with the character of hell. But the mention of this was reserved for the
character of the savages of Europe. The savage of every country is
implacable when injured; but among some, revenge has its measure. When
an American Indian is murdered his kindred pursue the murderer; and, as
soon as blood has atoned for blood, the wilds of America hear the
hostile parties join in their mutual lamentations over the dead, whom,
as an oblivion of malice, they bury together. But the measure of
revenge, never to be full, was left for the demi-savages of Europe. The
vassals of the feudal lord entered into his quarrels with the most
inexorable rage. Just or unjust was no consideration of theirs. It was a
family feud; no farther inquiry was made; and from age to age, the
parties, who never injured each other, breathed nothing but mutual
rancour and revenge. And actions, suitable to this horrid spirit,
everywhere confessed its virulent influence. Such were the late days of
Europe, admired by the ignorant for the innocence of manners. Resentment
of injury, indeed, is natural; and there is a degree which is honest,
and though warm, far from inhuman. But if it is the hard task of
humanized virtue to preserve the feeling of an injury unmixed with the
slightest criminal wish of revenge, how impossible is it for the savage
to attain the dignity of forgiveness, the greatest ornament of human
nature. As in individuals, a virtue will rise into a vice, generosity
into blind profusion, and even mercy into criminal lenity, so civilized
manners will lead the opulent into effeminacy. But let it be considered,
this consequence is by no means the certain result of civilization.
Civilization, on the contrary, provides the most effectual preventive of
this evil. Where classical literature prevails the manly spirit which it
breathes must be diffused; whenever frivolousness predominates, when
refinement degenerates into whatever enervates the mind, literary
ignorance is sure to complete the effeminate character. A mediocrity of
virtues and of talents is the lot of the great majority of mankind; and
even this mediocrity, if cultivated by a liberal education, will
infallibly secure its possessor against those excesses of effeminacy
which are really culpable. To be of plain manners it is not necessary to
be a clown, or to wear coarse clothes; nor is it necessary to lie on the
ground and feed like the savage to be truly manly. The beggar who,
behind the hedge, divides his offals with his dog has often more of the
real sensualist than he who dines at an elegant table. Nor need we
hesitate to assert, that he who, unable to preserve a manly elegance of
manners, degenerates into the _petit maitre_, would have been, in any
age or condition, equally insignificant and worthless. Some, when they
talk of the debauchery of the present age, seem to think that the former
ages were all innocence. But this is ignorance of human nature. The
debauchery of a barbarous age is gross and brutal; that of a gloomy,
superstitious one, secret, excessive, and murderous; that of a more
polished one, much happier for the fair sex,[30] and certainly in no
sense so big with political unhappiness. If one disease has been
imported from America,[31] the most valuable medicines have likewise
been brought from those regions; and distempers, which were thought
invincible by our forefathers, are now cured. If the luxuries of the
Indies usher disease to our tables the consequence is not unknown; the
wise and the temperate receive no injury, and intemperance has been the
destroyer of mankind in every age. The opulence of ancient Rome produced
a luxury of manners which proved fatal to that mighty empire. But the
effeminate sensualists of those ages were not men of intellectual
cultivation. The enlarged ideas, the generous and manly feelings
inspired by a liberal education, were utterly unknown to them. Unformed
by that wisdom which arises from science and true philosophy, they were
gross barbarians, dressed in the mere outward tinsel of
civilization. [32] Where the enthusiasm of military honour characterizes
the rank of gentlemen that nation will rise into empire. But no sooner
does conquest give a continued security than the mere soldier
degenerates; and the old veterans are soon succeeded by a new
generation, illiterate as their fathers, but destitute of their virtues
and experience. Polite literature not only humanizes the heart, but also
wonderfully strengthens and enlarges the mind. Moral and political
philosophy are its peculiar provinces, and are never happily cultivated
without its assistance. But, where ignorance characterizes the body of
the nobility, the most insipid dissipation and the very idleness and
effeminacy of luxury are sure to follow. Titles and family are then the
only merit, and the few men of business who surround the throne have it
then in their power to aggrandize themselves by riveting the chains of
slavery. A stately grandeur is preserved, but it is only outward; all is
decayed within, and on the first storm the weak fabric falls to the
dust. Thus rose and thus fell the empire of Rome, and the much wider one
of Portugal. Though the increase of wealth did, indeed, contribute to
that corruption of manners which unnerved the Portuguese, certain it is
the wisdom of legislature might certainly have prevented every evil
which Spain and Portugal have experienced from their acquisitions in the
two Indies. [33] Every evil which they have suffered from their
acquirements arose, as shall be hereafter demonstrated, from their
general ignorance, which rendered them unable to investigate or
apprehend even the first principles of civil and commercial philosophy.
And what other than the total eclipse of their glory could be expected
from a nobility, rude and unlettered as those of Portugal are described
by the author of the Lusiad--a court and nobility who sealed the truth
of all his complaints against them by suffering that great man, the
light of their age, to die in an almshouse! What but the fall of their
state could be expected from barbarians like these! Nor can the annals
of mankind produce one instance of the fall of empire where the
character of the nobles was other than that ascribed to his countrymen
by Camoens.




MICKLE'S SKETCH OF THE HISTORY

OF THE

DISCOVERY OF INDIA.


No lesson can be of greater national importance than the history of the
rise and the fall of a commercial empire. The view of what advantages
were acquired, and of what might have been still added; the means by
which such empire might have been continued, and the errors by which it
was lost, are as particularly conspicuous in the naval and commercial
history of Portugal as if Providence had intended to give a lasting
example to mankind; a chart, where the course of the safe voyage is
pointed out, and where the shelves and rocks, and the seasons of tempest
are discovered and foretold.

The history of Portugal, as a naval and commercial power, begins with
the designs of Prince Henry. But as the enterprises of this great man,
and the completion of his designs are intimately connected with the
state of Portugal, a short view of the progress of the power, and of the
character of that kingdom, will be necessary to elucidate the history of
the revival of commerce, and the subject of the Lusiad.

During the centuries when the effeminated Roman provinces of Europe were
desolated by the irruptions of the northern barbarians, the Saracens
spread the same horrors of brutal conquest over the finest countries of
the eastern world. The northern conquerors of the finer provinces of
Europe embraced the Christian religion as professed by the monks, and,
contented with the luxuries of their new settlements, their military
spirit soon declined. The Saracens, on the other hand, having embraced
the religion of Mohammed, their rage for war received every addition
which can possibly be inspired by religious enthusiasm. Not only the
spoils of the vanquished, but Paradise itself was to be obtained by
their sabres. Strengthened and inspired by a commission which they
esteemed divine, the rapidity of their conquests far exceeded those of
the Goths and Vandals. The majority of the inhabitants of every country
they subdued embraced their religion and imbibed their principles; thus,
the professors of Mohammedanism became the most formidable combination
ever leagued together against the rest of mankind. Morocco and the
adjacent countries had now received the doctrines of the Koran, and the
arms of the Saracens spread slaughter and desolation from the south of
Spain to Italy, and the islands of the Mediterranean. All the rapine and
carnage committed by the Gothic conquerors were now amply returned on
their less warlike posterity. In Spain, and the province now called
Portugal, the Mohammedans erected powerful kingdoms, and their lust of
conquest threatened destruction to every Christian power. But a romantic
military spirit revived in Europe under the auspices of Charlemagne. The
Mohammedans, during the reign of this sovereign, made a most formidable
irruption into Europe; France in particular felt the weight of their
fury. By the invention of new military honours that monarch drew the
adventurous youth of every Christian power to his standards, which
eventually resulted in the crusades, the beginning of which, in
propriety, should be dated from his reign. Few indeed are the historians
of this period, but enough remains to prove, that though the writers of
the old romance seized upon it, and added the inexhaustible machinery of
magic to the adventures of their heroes, yet the origin of their
fictions was founded on historical facts. [34] Yet, however this period
may thus resemble the fabulous ages of Greece, certain it is, that an
Orlando, a Rinaldo, a Rugero, and other celebrated names in romance,
acquired great honour in the wars which were waged against the
Saracens, the invaders of Europe. In these romantic wars, by which the
power of the Mohammedans was checked, several centuries elapsed, when
Alonzo, King of Castile, apprehensive that the whole force of the
Mohammedans of Spain and Morocco was ready to fall upon him, prudently
imitated the conduct of Charlemagne. He availed himself of the spirit of
chivalry, and demanded leave of Philip I. of France, and other princes,
that volunteers from their dominions might be allowed to distinguish
themselves, under his banners, against the Saracens. His desire was no
sooner known than a brave army of volunteers thronged to his standard,
and Alonzo was victorious. Honours and endowments were liberally
distributed among the champions; and to Henry, a younger son of the Duke
of Burgundy, he gave his daughter, Teresa, in marriage, with the
sovereignty of the countries south of Galicia as a dowry, commissioning
him to extend his dominions by the expulsion of the Moors. Henry, who
reigned by the title of Count, improved every advantage which offered.
The two rich provinces of Entro Minho e Douro, and Tras os Montes,
yielded to his arms; great part of Beira also was subdued, and the
Moorish King of Lamego became his tributary. Many thousands of
Christians, who had lived in miserable subjection to the Moors, took
shelter under the generous protection of Count Henry. Great numbers of
the Moors also changed their religion, and chose rather to continue in
the land where they were born than be exposed to the severities and
injustice of their native governors. And thus, one of the most
beautiful[35] and fertile spots of the world, with the finest climate,
in consequence of a crusade[36] against the Mohammedans, became in the
end the kingdom of Portugal, a sovereignty which in course of time
spread its influence far over the world.

Count Henry, after a successful reign, was succeeded by his infant son,
Don Alonzo-Henry, who, having surmounted the dangers which threatened
his youth, became the founder of the Portuguese monarchy. In 1139 the
Moors of Spain and Barbary united their forces to recover the dominions
from which they had been driven by the Christians. According to the
accounts of the Portuguese writers, the Moorish army amounted to near
400,000 men; nor is this number incredible when we consider what armies
they at other times have brought into the field, and that at this time
they came to take possession of lands from which they had been expelled.
Don Alonzo, however, with a very small army, gave them battle on the
plains of Ourique, and after a struggle of six hours, obtained a most
glorious and complete victory, and one which was crowned with an event
of the utmost importance. On the field of battle Don Alonzo was
proclaimed King of Portugal by his victorious soldiers, and he in return
conferred the rank of nobility on the whole army. The constitution of
the monarchy, however, was not settled, nor was Alonzo invested with the
regalia till six years after this memorable victory. The kind of
government the Portuguese had submitted to under the Spaniards and
Moors, and the advantages which they saw were derived from their own
valour, had taught them the love of liberty, while Alonzo himself
understood the spirit of his subjects too well to make the least attempt
to set himself up as a despotic monarch. After six years spent in
further victories, he called an assembly of the prelates, nobility, and
commons, to meet at Lamego. When the assembly opened, Alonzo appeared
seated on the throne, but without any other mark of regal dignity.
Before he was crowned, the constitution of the state was settled, and
eighteen statutes were solemnly confirmed by oath[37] as the charter of
king and people; statutes diametrically opposite to the divine right and
arbitrary power of kings, principles which inculcate and demand the
unlimited passive obedience of the subject.

The founders of the Portuguese monarchy transmitted to their heirs those
generous principles of liberty which complete and adorn the martial
character. The ardour of the volunteer, an ardour unknown to the slave
and the mercenary, added to the most romantic ideas of military glory,
characterized the Portuguese under the reigns of their first monarchs.
Engaged in almost continual war with the Moors, this spirit rose higher
and higher; and the desire to extirpate Mohammedanism--the principle
which animated the wish of victory in every battle--seemed to take
deeper root in every age. Such were the manners, and such the principles
of the people who were governed by the successors of Alonzo I. --a
succession of great men who proved themselves worthy to reign over so
military and enterprising a nation.

By a continued train of victories the Portuguese had the honour to drive
the Moors from Europe. The invasions of European soil by these people
were now requited by successful expeditions into Africa. Such was the
manly spirit of these ages, that the statutes of Lamego received
additional articles in favour of liberty, a convincing proof that the
general heroism of a people depends upon the principles of freedom.
Alonzo IV. ,[38] though not an amiable character, was perhaps the
greatest warrior, politician, and monarch of his age. After a reign of
military splendour, he left his throne to his son Pedro, surnamed the
Just. Ideas of equity and literature were now diffused by this great
prince,[39] who was himself a polite scholar, and a most accomplished
gentleman. Portugal began to perceive the advantages of cultivated
talents, and to feel its superiority over the barbarous politics of the
ignorant Moors. The great Pedro, however, was succeeded by a weak
prince, and the heroic spirit of the Portuguese seemed to exist no more
under his son Fernando, surnamed the Careless.

Under John I. [40] all the virtues of the Portuguese again shone forth
with redoubled lustre. Happily for Portugal, his father had bestowed an
excellent education upon this prince, which, added to his great natural
talents, rendered him one of the greatest of monarchs. Conscious of the
superiority which his own liberal education gave him, he was assiduous
to bestow the same advantages upon his children, and he himself often
became their preceptor in science and useful knowledge. Fortunate in all
his affairs, he was most of all fortunate in his family. He had many
sons, and he lived to see them become men of parts and of action, whose
only emulation was to show affection to his person and to support his
administration by their great abilities.

All the sons of John excelled in military exercises, and in the
literature of their age; Don Edward and Don Pedro[41] were particularly
educated for the cabinet, and the mathematical genius of Don Henry
received every encouragement which a king and a father could give to
ripen it into perfection and public utility.

History was well known to Prince Henry, and his turn of mind peculiarly
enabled him to make political observations upon it. The history of
ancient Tyre and Carthage showed him what a maritime nation might hope
to become; and the flourishing colonies of the Greeks were the frequent
topic of his conversation. Where Grecian commerce extended its influence
the deserts became cultivated fields, cities rose, and men were drawn
from the woods and caverns to unite in society. The Romans, on the other
hand, when they destroyed Carthage, buried in her ruins the fountain of
civilization, improvement and opulence. They extinguished the spirit of
commerce, and the agriculture of the conquered nations. And thus, while
the luxury of Rome consumed the wealth of her provinces, her
uncommercial policy dried up the sources of its continuance. Nor were
the inestimable advantages of commerce the sole motives of Henry. All
the ardour that the love of his country could awaken conspired to
stimulate the natural turn of his genius for the improvement of
navigation.

As the kingdom of Portugal had been wrested from the Moors, and
established by conquest, so its existence still depended on the
superiority of force of arms; and even before the birth of Henry, the
superiority of the Portuguese navies had been of the utmost consequence
to the protection of the state. Whatever, therefore, might curb the
power of the Moors, was of the utmost importance to the existence of
Portugal. Such were the views and circumstances which united to inspire
the designs of Henry, designs which were powerfully enforced by the
religion of that prince. Desire to extirpate Mohammedanism was
synonymous with patriotism in Portugal. It was the principle which gave
birth to, and supported their monarchy.