dest dreams had mingled fiction with fact. Legends
telling of monsters of the deep, jealous of invasion of their territory;
of rocks of lodestone, powerful enough to extract every particle of iron
from a passing ship; of stagnant seas and fiery skies; of wandering saints
and flying islands; all combined to invest the unknown with the terrors of
the supernatural, and to deter the explorer of the great ocean. The
half-decked vessels that crept along the Mediterranean shores were but
ill-fitted to bear the brunt of the furious waves of the Atlantic. The now
indispensable sextant was but clumsily anticipated by the newly invented
astrolabe. The use of the compass had scarcely become familiar to
navigators, who indeed but imperfectly understood its properties. And who
could tell, it was objected, that a ship which might succeed in sailing
down the waste of waters would ever be able to return, for would not the
voyage home be a perpetual journey up a mountain of sea?

INCITEMENTS TO DISCOVERY.

But the same tradition which set forth the difficulties of reaching the
undiscovered countries promised a splendid reward to the successful
voyager. Rivers rolling down golden sand, mountains shining with priceless
gems, forests fragrant with rich spices were among the substantial
advantages to be expected as the result of the enterprise. "Our quest
there," said Peter Martyr, "is not for the vulgar products of Europe." The
proverb "Omne ignotum pro magnifico" [Transcribers's note: Everything
unknown is taken for magnificent.] was abundantly illustrated. And there
was another object, besides gain, which was predominant in the minds of
almost all the early explorers, namely, the spread of the Christian
religion. This desire of theirs, too, seems to have been thoroughly
genuine and deep-seated; and it may be doubted whether the discoveries
would have been made at that period but for the impulse given to them by
the most religious minds longing to promote, by all means in their power,
the spread of what, to them, was the only true and saving faith. "I do
not," says a candid historian [Faria y Sousa] of that age, "imagine that
I shall persuade the world that our intent was only to be preachers; but
on the other hand the world must not fancy that our intent was merely to
be traders," There is much to blame in the conduct of the first
discoverers in Africa and America; it is, however, but just to acknowledge
that the love of gold was by n