valor and discretion they would adventure their lives. With most men beliefs are but prejudices, and opinions tastes. These Spaniards not only believed in their general, but they held to a most impetuous belief in themselves. They could do not only anything that any one else ever had done or could do, but they could command the supernatural, and fight with or against phantoms and devils. They were a host in themselves; besides which the hosts of Jehovah were on their side. And Cortés measured his men and their capabilities, not as Xerxes measured his army, by filling successively a pen capable of holding just ten thousand; he measured them rather by his ambition, which was as bright and as limitless as the firmament. Already they were heroes, whose story presently should vie in thrilling interest with the most romantic tales of chivalry and knight-errantry, and in whom the strongest human passions were so blended as to lift them for a time out of the hand of fate and make their fortunes their own. The thirst for wealth, the enthusiasm of religion, the love of glory, united with reckless daring and excessive loyalty, formed the most powerful incentives to action. Life to them without the attainment of their object was valueless; they would do or die; for to die in doing was life, whereas to live failing was worse than death. Cortés felt all this, though it scarcely lay on his mind in threads of tangible thought. There was enough however that was tangible in his thinkings, and exceedingly troubling. Unfortunately the mind and heart of all his people were not of the complexion he would have them. And those ships. And the disaffected men lying so near them, looking wistfully at them every morning, and plotting, and plotting all the day long. Like the Palatinate to Turenne, like anything that seduced from the stern purposes of Cortés, it were better they were not.
This thought once flashed into his mind fastened itself there. And it grew. And Cortés grew with it, until the man and the idea filled all that country, and