another coming from its system of historic composition. The biographies of Columbus have been written conformably to a preconceived order of ideas, and solely in accordance with the data of human philosophy. The Protestant school does not attribute a supernatural character to an event that has doubled the world. It does not recognize in it a day marked by Divine Wisdom, and the accomplishment of a will inspired by the Most High. According to its disciples, this Discovery, in default of Columbus, would have quite naturally followed, from the progress of nautical science. They cannot bring themselves to see, in the discovery of the New World, a providential intervention. How could they, then, accord a Divine aid to the faith of Columbus? They prefer attributing to the compass and the astrolabe, what they refuse to Divine bounty. They admit the miracles of human genius, and deny heavenly favors. They refuse giving to God what they are willing to give to man. And while Christopher Columbus, after having so many times experienced supernatural aid, recognized it with gratitude, declared it even in his official reports to government, and considered himself as a simple instrument in the hands of Providence, they, in recounting his history, obstinately deny this efficacious assistance. They pretend to know Columbus better than Columbus knew himself.
Conformably to their theory that the motives of human acts are always identical, they have rejected the superior character of Columbus, the man chosen by Heaven, and despoiled him of his spiritual grandeur in order to make him like the rest of men. They have studied to lessen him, to shorten him to their own stature. They have invested him with their own sentiments; they have lent him their own views, their own instincts; judging of him by their own hearts. Lest some traces of his native grandeur should survive in the majesty of his character, they have found in him not only imperfections, but also defects, — even vices. Nevertheless, their indulgence has
