to his fear of thus lessening his own reputation, and to the fact that the description given by the Northmen of the regions they visited did not correspond with the brilliant picture of Cathay and Cipango, by which he hoped to induce some sovereign to aid him in his splendid enterprise. Columbus is reported to have first proposed his scheme of discovery to his native city, and on its rejection there, to have applied to the court of Portugal. His son relates that the king at first was favourable to the proposition, but refused it in consequence of his high demands of honours and rewards. Another authority states that the king looked on Columbus as a vain-glorious boaster, and only referred his proposition to a junto of learned men, in consequence of his importunities. This junto, as was to be expected, treated the project as extravagant and visionary, and when it was brought before the royal council, their decision was confirmed. John II. was thus led to reject the proposal, but at the same time, with a meanness unworthy of a great and wise prince, endeavoured to deprive Columbus of the honour due to his genius. Having obtained all his maps, plans, and other documents, a vessel was secretly fitted out and directed to pursue the route indicated by Columbus. However, a storm arose, as if designed to defeat this treachery, and the sailors, easily frightened and devoid of zeal, returned home, ridiculing a scheme which they wanted courage to prosecute. Disgusted at this unworthy attempt, Columbus refused all further negociation with king John, and his wife being now dead, he resolved to leave Portugal. In the end of 1484 he left Lisbon secretly, either fearing that the king might try to detain him, or more probably wishing to elude his creditors. Next year he was in Genoa, and probably then made that proposition to his native city which has been erroneously placed at an earlier period. The republic, exhausted by war and with declining commerce, was in no condition to accept this offer. Some affirm that he then carried his proposal to Venice, where it was also declined in consequence of the critical state of affairs; but the national hostility of the rival republics, and the want of all express evidence, render this fact more than doubtful.

Columbus's wanderings are for a time hidden in obscurity, and the next trace of him is in Spain, on his way to the court of Ferdinand and Isabella. Whilst offering the gift of a new world to monarchs, he himself was in want of the merest necessaries. Near the little sea-port of Palos, in Andalusia, stood a Franciscan convent. One day a stranger, accompanied by a young boy, stopped at the gate, and asked from the porter a little bread and water for his child. In the meantime the prior, Juan Perez, passing by, struck with his appearance, entered into conversation with the stranger, and was so interested in his story, as to detain him as his guest. The stranger, it need hardly be said, was Columbus, on his way to a neighbouring town to seek his brother-in-law, married to a sister of his late wife. The prior, though deeply interested in the magnificent views of Columbus, had too little confidence in his own judgment to give them immediate approval, and sent for a scientific friend, Garcia Fernandez, the physician of Palos. After many conferences and consultations with the most experienced mariners of the neighhouring town, the friar and his friend decided in favour of Columbus's plan, and advised him to lay it before the Spanish sovereigns. To aid him in this, Friar Juan Perez not only gave him a letter of recommendation to Fernando de Talavera, the queen's confessor, with whom he was on intimate terms, but in the meantime took charge of his son Diego. Inspired by this kindness with new hopes, Columbus set out in the spring of 1486 for the court of Castile.

Tais was truly the heroic age of Spanish history, when the marriage of Ferdinand and Isabella, uniting the once rival kingdoms of Arragon and Castile, exalted the power of the cross and broke the terrible sway of the crescent. The fierce Moors, shut up in the mountain fastnesses of Granada, with difficulty defended this last remnant of their once powerful empire. The king and queen, though preserving their separate rights as independent sovereigns, yet made mutual cause against the unbelievers. Ferdi

nand was a wise and prudent, though cold, selfish, and artful sovereign, fighting rather for dominion than glory, and inspired more by bigotry than religion. His three great objects-the conquest of the Moors, the expulsion of the Jews, and the establishment of the inquisition, were pursued from the commencement of his reign with unrelenting energy, and perhaps as much from motives of politics as religion. In all of them his queen, with more of a woman's heart and innate benignity of disposition, tried to modify his cruel zeal, even against the influence of her spiritual advisers. In many instances she exhibited much firmness and intrepidity, but was more distinguished by her zeal for the welfare of her people, her labours to heal the wounds which internal wars had inflicted, and her fostering care of literature and science. To these princes Columbus now proceeded with his proposals; but did not find that ready access he had expected. Talavera regarded his scheme as absurd; and the courtiers contrasted the splendour of his speculations with the poverty of his garb. Because he was a stranger and went but in simple apparel, nor otherwise credited than by the letter of a grey friar, they believed him not, neither gave ear to his words, whereby he was greatly tormented in his imagination.' The princes, too, were now personally engaged in the Moorish war; sometimes attacking their cities, at others hurried away to preserve their own country from the merciless ravages of the Saracen cavalry. Amidst such pressing affairs it is little wonder that the wild theories of a poor unfriended stranger met with a slow hearing. For some time he appears to have again supported himself by the sale of maps, whilst following the movements of the court. His earnest enthusiasm, however, gradually gained him friends and supporters; among them the celebrated Cardinal Mendoza, archbishop of Toledo, who to the scholarship of the period, added the qualities of a quick prudent man of business. He was in great favour with his sovereigns, who consulted him on all matters of consequence, so that he was named the third king of Spain.' The cardinal, when once convinced that the theory of Columbus involved nothing heretical, procured him an audience at court, where his modest self-possession, and the practical scientifie reasons with which he supported his opinion, so far convinced Ferdinand, that he appointed a council of learned men to consider the question and make a report to him. This council met in the Dominican convent at Salamanca, where Columbus was in the meanwhile lodged and entertained with great hospitality. The assembly consisted not only of learned professors, but of various dignitaries of the church and friars; none of them, we may well believe, likely to regard the bold innovator with much favour. It is said that when Columbus began his statement, the friars of St Stephens, the most learned convent, alone paid attention, whilst the other members seemed as if already resolved not to be convinced. Their most formidable objections were drawn from misapplied passages of Scripture, backed by long quotations from some of the fathers, who, in their simplicity, had ridiculed the notion that the earth was round, and that there could possibly be men walking with their heels upwards and their heads hanging down, or a place where trees grew topsy-turvy, and rain, hail, and snow fell upward. Columbus skilfully avoided the danger of heresy whilst maintaining the truth of science; he showed that the language of Scripture was figurative and adapted to popular comprehension; that the fathers were not writing philosophical treatises but pious homilies; and that the strongest argument, drawn from the notion that the torrid zone was uninhabitable, could not be true, as he himself had already sailed on the coast of Guinea almost to the equinoctial line. The eloquence, truth, and devout enthusiasm of Columbus, convinced many of his judges, but the majority remained incredulous, conferences were multiplied without result, and a final decision was procrastinated till the return of summer (1487) again called the court to begin the campaign against the Moors. During its continuance there was no time to listen to his suit, though Columbus followed the court and took an active part in the war, receiving occasional supplies of money.

to the Friar Juan Perez, and partook of the communion, in which he was joined by most of his associates.

On Friday the 3d August, 1492, half an hour before sunrise, Columbus sailed from the bar of Saltes, a small island opposite the town of Huelva, on this memorable expedition. He directed his course first for the Canaries, where he arrived on the 9th, and was detained for three weeks repairing one of his vessels, which was already injured, probably by its owners. When sailing past Teneriffe, an eruption of its volcanic peaks terrified his crew, ready to interpret every event into a portent of disaster. Columbus re-assured them by pointing out its natural cause, being more concerned by a report he heard at Gomera, where he had stopped to take in provisions, that three Portuguese caravels were cruising about with an intent to capture him. On the 6th September he left this island, but was delayed by calms, so that it was the 9th of that month before they lost sight of Ferro, the farthest west of these islands. Then it is said the hearts of many of the crew failed them; they burst into tears and loud lamentations at thus taking leave, as for ever, of home, family, and friends, and plunging headlong into the unknown dangers of the trackless ocean. Columbus encouraged them by pictures of the wealth and splendour of the regions they were about to visit, and promises of rich rewards. He also issued orders to the commanders of the other vessels in case of separation, to sail on due westward for seven hundred leagues, when, as land might then be expected, they were to sail only during the day. He also, to deceive his crew, kept two reckonings of the ship's course, one correct for his own use, the other in which a number, of leagues were daily subtracted from the sailing of the ship, open to the inspection of all. On the 11th September the sight of a broken mast anew excited the terrors of his sailors. Two days after, he, for the first time, observed the variation of the compass, which no longer pointed to the pole star, but gradually varied more and more to the west. He could not conceal this phenomenon from the pilots, who, not without reason, feared that the compass was about to lose its virtue, and to leave them without a guide in the pathless ocean. Columbus, for whose skill as an astronomer they had great respect, quieted their minds by telling them that the compass remained unchanged, its apparent motion being caused by the revolution of the north star round the true pole-an explanation not satisfactory to his own mind.

The ships were now in the region of the trade winds, which, blowing steadily from the east, so that for many days they did not require to shift a sail, wafted them rapidly on their way. Land-birds occasionally appeared, cheering the sailors with the hope that their voyage was near its end. The soft balmy air is compared to the pure mornings of April in Andalusia, wanting only the song of the nightingale to complete the illusion. Soon after they reached the large patches of floating sea-weed, now known to cover many thousand square miles in this part of the Atlantic. The sailors regarded this as another sign of land, and the crews were in high spirits, striving who should catch the first sight of it. Some clouds in the north, and the flight of a great number of birds, were also thought to indicate that it might be found in that quarter. But Columbus, firm to his purpose, steered boldly to the west, where alone he was convinced India was to be found. New fears were however rising in the minds of his people; the vast tract of ocean they had passed, seemed to separate them for ever from Spain, whilst the constant unvarying wind which favoured their progress, precluded all possibility of return. Columbus might have tried in vain to dispel their fears, had not new signs of land and a contrary wind added weight to his arguments. Some small birds also came singing to the ships in the morning and flew away in the evening, which wonderfully cheered the sailors, who thought them too weak of wing to have wandered far from land. Their fears from the calm were at the same time dispelled by a heavy swell of the sea without wind, which came so opportunely that Columbus regarded it as sent by Providence to allay the murmurs of his crew. Every new disappointment added to their discontent, and they were already

talking of compelling him to return, or if he was positive in refusing, casting him into the sea. Though conscious of his danger, Columbus remained serene and confident, soothing and encouraging some, menacing others with signal punishment. One incident will show the excitement prevailing among the crews. The lightness of the winds permitted the vessels to sail so close that the commanders could frequently converse together. On the 25th September, Martin Pinzon affirmed that they must be near the island of Cipango, which the admiral had entered in his chart. This document, tied to a cord, was flung from the one vessel to the other, and Columbus was busy examining it, when Pinzon cried out, Land, land, Senor; I claim my reward!' and pointed to the south-west, where indeed there was an appearance of an island. Columbus fell on his knees, thanking God; and Pinzon, joined by the crews, repeated the Gloria in excelsis. The joy of the people could not be restrained, and the admiral was forced to sail to the south-west, till the morning sun showed the land to have been only an evening cloud.

6

Similar deceptions repeatedly took place, and the crew, fearing that they had sailed between islands without observing them, began to utter murmurs and menaces, when renewed signs of land revived their hopes. Even Pinzon, however, on the 6th October, proposed that they should sail south; but the admiral maintained his course to the west. On the morning of the 7th, land was again announced in the west, but melted away before the evening; and Columbus having now reached the distance where he expected land, or 750 leagues (2600 miles), consented to sail to the south-west, to which he saw all the small land birds directing their flight in the evening. They continued three days in this direction, the indications of their approach to land always increasing in number. On the evening of the third day the crew broke out in open defiance, but Columbus told them it was in vain to murmur, as he was determined to persevere; and next day the signs of land were so decisive, that every one was eagerly on the watch. In the evening, after singing the vesper hymn and addressing the crew on the prospect of finding land that night, he took his place on the high poop of the vessel. Suddenly, about ten o'clock, he thought he saw a light glimmering in the distance; and calling a friend, pointed it out to him. They called a third person, but it had disappeared, though returning afterwards at intervals. At two in the morning a gun from the Pinta, which, as the quickest sailer, usually kept the lead, announced that land was in sight. A sailor, Rodrigo de Triana, claimed the reward, but it was subsequently adjudged to Columbus, as having previously seen the light. Land was now clearly seen, when they shortened sail and lay to till the dawn. What must have been the feelings of Columbus in these few hours, when the vision that had haunted him for so many years, for which he had toiled and laboured, enduring poverty, reproach, and ridicule, was about to be realised-when the barrier of the ocean was to be broken down, and a new world laid open to civilised man!

On the morning of Friday, 12th October, 1492, Columbus first saw the New World. A low island, densely covered with trees, among which numerous naked savages were running to and fro, as if lost in astonishment, lay before him. He cast anchor, and with the two Pinzons put off for the shore in their boats. On landing, Columbus threw himself on his knees, kissed the earth, and returned thanks to God with tears of joy. He then took possession of the island for his sovereigns, and named it San Salvador. The crew had now passed to the opposite extreme of exultation, and were loud in professions of fidelity, and entreaties of pardon for the past. The natives, meanwhile, watched them with trembling anxiety, but at last ventured to approach their guests, whom they fancied had come down from heaven, whilst their ships seemed to them monsters inspired with life. Their copper-coloured and painted skins were equally new to the Spaniards; whilst their simplicity, gentleness, and confidence, were not less pleasing. Columbus examined the island, but found no articles of commerce, and only a few ornaments of gold, which the

by pretended discoveries, but the king had sufficient honour to reject this expedient, while he resolved to fit out a private armament, and take possession of the new country. Columbus was allowed to depart, and reached Palos on the 15th March, which place he had left on the 3d of August, the previous year. It has often been remarked, that had he encountered half the difficulties and storms on his outward voyage which assailed him on his return, he would inevitably have been compelled to desist, and this great discovery have been deferred to an indefinite period.

At Palos, Columbus was received with shouts of joy, and his passage along the streets resembled a triumphal procession. The same evening, Pinzon, who had also escaped the tempest and touched at the port of Bayonne, whence he had sent a letter to the court with the news of his discovery, also entered the harbour. When he heard of the enthusiastic reception of Columbus, his heart sunk within him, all his treachery and evil conduct rose before him, and, dreading to meet his injured commander, he repaired privately to his dwelling, downcast and broken in health. A severe and reproachful reply to his letter to the king increased his dejection, and in a few days after he died of envy and remorse. As Washington Irving beautifully observes, his story shows how one lapse from duty may counterbalance the merits of a thousand services; how one moment of weakness many mar the beauty of a whole life of virtue; and how important a matter it is for a man, under all circumstances, to be true, not merely to others, but to himself.'

The Spanish court was now at Barcelona, and Columbus, whilst waiting orders, repaired to Seville. Here he received a letter requesting his immediate presence at court, and desiring him to make arrangements for a second voyage, as the summer was now at hand. Having complied as far as possible with the latter request, he set out for the court, taking with him six Indians and several curiosities he had brought home. His road was crowded with joyful and wondering multitudes, and he entered Barcelona in a procession that has been compared to a Roman triumph. He was received by the king and queen in great state, and when he knelt down they raised him up, and ordered him to sit in their presence-a mark of rare honour in that ceremonious court. He was then requested to give an account of his voyage, at the conclusion of which the whole assembly sank on their knees, giving thanks to God for the discovery of a new world, and the anthem of Te Deum was sung. Columbus was for the moment the object of universal curiosity, applause, and admiration. Nor was this feeling confined to Spain, but responded to with general exultation over the whole civilized world of Europe. As yet the sudden splendour of his discovery overpowered all feelings save those of joy and exultation.

RECOLLECTIONS OF A FOUR-FOOTED FAVOURITE

BY WILLIAM LANDLESS, ESQ.

I knew at least one hare that had a friend.'-Cowper. ONE evening I was turning over the leaves of a new edition of Cowper, when my eyes happened to alight on the prose narrative respecting his hares, which is usually appended to the end of his poems. The perusal of this pleasing piece of animal biography brought to my recollection some passages in the life of an animal of the same species, whose remarkable tameness and familiarity almost equal, if they do not surpass, that manifested by the bard's celebrated hare, Puss.

Many years ago, my father, who was in the army, was sent on detachment to a place called Carndonough, situated a few miles from Londonderry. While there, one of the soldiers happened, by some means or other, to get possession of a young leveret, which he brought to us. I was then a mere boy, in a very delicate state of health; and my worthy old nurse gladly accepted the hare, as she thought it would interest and amuse me. Like almost all

children, I was very fond of animals, and in a short time the leveret and I became great friends. There being no children in the neighbourhood, the little animal was my only companion and playmate.

Harry, as we called him, was very young when he came into my possession-so much so, indeed, that he required for several weeks to be fed with milk. Afterwards bread was given him along with his milk, and gradually we accustomed him to a vegetable diet, consisting of lettuce, dandelion, cabbage, &c., with which he seemed to agree well. In a few months he became a plump sportive creature, going about the room as tame and familiar as a cat, eating the crumbs that fell on the floor, and sleeping for hours very composedly in a window-corner near the fire. It being necessary for my father to return to headquarters, nurse, and I, and the hare, were sent off in a chaise to Derry. Harry was placed in an open basket, where was plenty of green food, but he never tasted a morsel during the whole journey; he squatted down in a corner of the basket, and buried his head amongst the clover and lettuce-leaves. The strange movement and frequent jolting of the chaise seemed to have quite terrified him; and it was several weeks after being domiciled in society before he fairly recovered from his fright, and ex- ' hibited his wonted tameness and familiarity. It was during our residence in Derry that Harry became thoroughly domesticated, and evinced so many beautiful traits of confidence and affection as rendered him quite a friend and favourite with every one who knew him. Whenever we rapped on the floor, Harry immediately came running out from below the bed, or from behind a large military chest, or wherever he was concealed, and would eat bread or a lettuce-leaf out of my hand; or if I held it above him, which I sometimes did to tease him, he would get upon his hind-legs, and stretch himself as far as he could, in order to get hold of the food. I very frequently lay down on the carpet, and employed myself in reading a storybook, or in turning over the quaint woodcuts of an old edition of Esop's Fables. On these occasions, Harry was sure to come forth from his hiding-place, and stretch himself down at full length beside me, with his mouth almost close to mine. In this position he would frequently fall asleep. During meals, Harry generally made his appearance; and if I called to him, and held up a crust of bread, he would jump on my knee; and if I put the crust in my mouth, holding it betwixt my teeth, he would put up his fore-feet, resting them on my breast, and in that position commence eating the crust with the greatest composure.

Though he had abundance of food, Harry delighted in gnawing at everything that came in his way. The feet of the tables and chairs bore ample testimony to the sharpness of his teeth. One night he got on the top of a table, and gnawed away nearly one-half of a small pocket-book containing some bank-notes; and on another occasion he devoured a considerable portion of my worthy nurse's wig.

One day a man came to the house on business, who brought a dog along with him. The dog, from some cause or other, began to bark most violently. No sooner did Harry hear the strange sound than he fled below the bed. After the man and the dog had gone away, nurse rapped on the floor for Harry, as she had some food to give him, but, to her great surprise, he did not appear. She immediately began to apprehend that something was wrong, and we immediately commenced an anxious search through the house to discover him. But our search was in vain; Harry was nowhere to be found, and we were forced to conclude either that the barking of the dog had so frightened him that he had fled down stairs into the street, or that the dog' had worried him and carried him away. Both nurse and I were inconsolable about the loss of our favourite. I had a tame pigeon, which had flown away a few days before. My health, never good, was at that period getting much worse. My nurse, who was as worthy and warm-hearted a woman as ever lived, was a Scotchwoman, and to a considerable extent tinged with the old superstitions of her country, regarded the flying away of the pigeon as an evil The loss of the hare corroborated and increased

omen.