not choose to leave hereditary homes and comfortable emolument which made those homes the permanent abodes of contentment if not of luxury. But there were others in the dense crowds of Spain whose habits, disposition and education, fostered in them all the love of ease and elegance, without bestowing the means of gratifying their desires. These men regarded the New-World as a short and easy road to opulence and distinction. There were others too, whose reckless or dissipated habits had wasted their fortunes and blasted their names in their native towns, and who could not bear to look upon the scenes of their youth, or the companions of their more fortunate days, whilst poverty and disgrace deprived them of the rights of free and equal social intercourse. These were the poor and proud;—the noisy and the riotous;—the soldier, half bandit, half warrior;—the sailor, half mutineer, half pirate;—the zealot whose bigotry magnified the dangers of Indian life into the glory of martyrdom; and the avaricious man who dreamed that the very sands of the Indian Isles were strewn with gems and gold. Among all this mass of wayward lust and ambition, there were some lofty spirits whose love of glory, whose passionate devotion to adventure, and whose genuine anxiety to spread the true word of God among the infidels, sanctified and adorned the enterprise, whilst their personal efforts and influence were continually directed towards the noble purpose of redeeming it from cruelty. These men recollected that posterity would set its seal upon their deeds, whilst many of them acted from a higher and purer Christian motive, devoid of all that narrow selfishness with which others kept their eyes fixed on the present and the future for the popular opinion that was to disgrace or dignify them on the pages of history.
Such were the Spanish materials of the armies with which Cortéz invaded Mexico; and yet, even with all the masterly genius he possessed to mould and lead such discordant elements, what could he have substantially effected, against the Aztec Empire, with his handful of men,—armed, mounted and equipped as they were,—without his Indian allies? These he had to conquer, to win, to control, to bind to him, forever, with the chains of an indestructible loyalty. He did not even know their language, but relied on the double interpretation of an Indian girl and a Spanish soldier. Nor is it less remarkable that he not only gained these allies, but preserved their fealty, not in success alone, but under the most disheartening disaster, when it was really their interest to
