CHAP. VII.

Relieved by this indulgence of a natural sensibility, Sebastian raised himself from the neck of his wife with a serener countenance, and bade Gaspar conduct him to the viceroy’s: they went out together.

As they passed through the streets, silently taking that complacent repose of the soul which follows tumultuous joy, Gaspar’s eyes remained still fixed on his sovereign’s face, with an expression of affectionate pleasure that seemed incapable of being sated:—his heart indeed overflowed with happiness.

Sebastian was conducted to a private apartment in the house of De Castro, at the entrance of which Gaspar left him to return and guard Kara Aziek: Don Emanuel was standing alone; he came hastily forward, fastened the door, and fell at his master’s feet. The King’s emotion confused his sight, but he raised De Castro and embraced him warmly; a long silence prevailed between them: the same recollections, the same troubled anticipations of the future, were in the minds of each: their meeting was less joyous than that with Gaspar, because their more reflective characters acted on each other and roused serious thoughts, but it was equally affectionate.

“When I first saw thee, De Castro!” said his sovereign, “could I have foreseen this day, how would my frantic spirit have been appaled and checked in its unjust”——Don Emanuel’s looks interrupted him; too respectful for other interruption he only averted his head, and put the King’s hand to his lips with the air of one that beseeches: Sebastian gratefully eyed him.

“Generous De Castro!” he exclaimed, “vainly would you have me banish from my mind those events which your figure so forcibly recalls.—I cannot forget—I cannot forget!” he repeated, deeply sighing and sinking into a reverie. Every scene in which De Castro had been an actor, was now brought back with such frightful closeness to him, that regret and compunction grew into absolute agony; the remembrances of Antonio and of Gonsalva were so contradictory, so made up of the amiable and the hateful, that they increased the anguish of Sebastian by increasing his incertitude: he sought to end it, by suddenly inquiring of De Castro whether he had known the guilt of Donna Gonsalva ere their departure for Africa.

“By a singular chance it was discovered to me;” replied Don Emanuel,—“On my return from the Indies I went to visit my affianced wife, and found her all that she had been described to me in beauty, wit, and accomplishments. I confess that these graces, together with the animated reception she then gave me, dazzled away my intended scrutiny of her disposition, and I reluctantly tore myself from the temptation of making her wholly mine, in order to devote myself to the last hours of my respected grandfather. When we met again, her manner was changed; an air of haughty coldness, almost amounting to contempt, gave to her beauty a new character, but that character was one which disgusted me. I could only suppose that I was indebted for this to pique at my preferring a sacred duty to the indulgence of passion.”

The death of my grandfather interrupted the uneasy thoughts which her evident caprice or selfish vanity had created: my mourning was yet fresh, when in journeying from Santaren to her father’s villa near Crato, it was providentially ordained that I should pass through a cluster of farm-houses, one of which was on fire. It was midnight at this time; my servants assisted me to succour the inhabitants; most of them were saved, but one woman, whom I rescued at the imminent hazard of my life, was so grievously burned that that no hope could be entertained of her recovery. On learning my name, she testified the most extraordinary agitation and desiring to be left alone with me, entered upon a confession of guilt which filled me with consternation.

Judge my astonishment, Sire! when I found that she was the confidential maid of Donna Gonsalva, and having met with this fatal accident during a short visit to her family, deemed it a visitation of divine justice.—She told me”—here De Castro paused apprehensively.

“Proceed without fear!” said Sebastian, with a steady voice, though his cheek was blanched—“the name once so dear to me is now only a watch-word of horror or of pity. I am eager to know her, and her seducer, completely.”

Don Emanuel resumed. “I learnt from the woman’s recital these facts.—Left to the care of so indolent, unsuspicious and weak a guardian as her aunt, Donna Gonsalva had ill brooked the retirement to which she was condemned by the absence of her father and of her husband; her restless vanity was eager for gratification, when chance shewed her to Don Antonio of Crato. I pass over his passion and its seductions; he found the fair Gonsalva too ready to sacrifice herself to vanity and ambition: he was the King’s cousin, and he persuaded her that your majesty had sworn never to marry, but resolved on declaring him heir to the crown by substantiating his mother’s marriage with the Duke De Beja, after which Antonio would endeavour to procure the Pope’s dispensation for making her his wife.

“These temptations, added to the insinuating manners of her lover, conquered the virtue of Gonsalva—she yielded herself to the prior.”

A crimson flush was reflected from the faces of each, as Don Emanuel paused, and Sebastian covered his eyes with his hand: each felt at that moment a sentiment of having been dishonoured.—De Castro resumed.

“Urracca, (this servant I spoke of,) was the confidant of their meetings, for they took place in her apartments, and by her contrivance; she assured me that their guilty attachment had endured for more than a year, when I returned to Portugal. Gonsalva was then awakening from her vain dream of a throne; for your Majesty had graciously announced to your subjects that it was your intention to marry at some future period, and negociations with France and Spain were even then on foot: she began to think that to share my fortune and honours, was preferable to this pursuit of a phantom; I was therefore received with flattering ardour.

“It was after this period that she saw her royal victim.—O, Sire! must I go on?—dare I repeat those acts of treasonable deception,—of amazing ingratitude, which—”

“All, all, De Castro!” replied Sebastian, “Judge not my heart exactly by these coward cheeks of mine: ’tis the trick of my nature to grow pale and red, at what stirs not the complexion of other men—go on—my passions are not so inflammable as they used to be—go on!—”

Don Emanuel bowed his head and resumed.—“Your Majesty’s first interview with Gonsalva charmed her vanity, it offered her amusement; she saw you again; and when detailing the adventure to Urracca, she expressed a certainty of being familiar with your features, and suddenly exclaimed—“it is the portrait of Don Sebastian, that he resembles!”—In one moment her vanity and imagination had too truly united this likeness with the circumstance of the court being then at Crato, and when she saw you again, Sire, by seemingly random railleries, she nearly confirmed herself in her suspicion.

“Don Antonio had a picture of your Majesty on a snuff-box, Gonsalva examined it attentively at their next meeting, and determining to be satisfied compleatly, obtained her aunt’s permission to attend her to the cathedral of Crato, where the court were to be present at the celebration of high mass.—There, concealed under a veil, she beheld and recognized her mysterious admirer.—

“I need not add, it was immediately subsequent to this, that my second visit was received so haughtily.—About this period your majesty remained several days absent from the villa, a circumstance which alarmed the yet-unfixed hopes of Gonsalva: nightly Urracca watched from the upper window of a turret where her mistress had granted you permission to appear. One night she descried your royal person from afar, and hastening down to inform Gonsalva, heard her propose to charm you, by a seemingly unstudied display of her melodious voice. Assured of your rank, Sire! instructed in your character by him who knew you best, she learnt how to inflame your passion by a thousand charming caprices, till she had brought you to the point desired.—Meanwhile Antonio”——

“Ah what of Antonio?” interrupted the King, his limbs quivering with restrained emotion, “did he conspire?—damned, damned dissembler!” he added, losing his self-command, “when I was weaving him into my soul—when I trusted him—poured out my love-sick heart to him alone——boy, idiot, bubble that I was!—O De Castro, these are recollections to madden!—I regret not such perfidious wretches, but my blood grows fire when I think of the jest they must have made of feelings like mine!”

Sebastian trod the apartment with fierce and irregular steps; De Castro looked on him with an air of tender compassion—this sensibility to injuries recalled their first interview at Lisbon, and he lamented its continuance.

“Donna Gonsalva, he resumed, “determined not to disclose her secret to Antonio till confident of your Majesty’s settled passion; your own august lips first revealed it to the prior: surprize and resentment nearly banished his discretion, but never having dared to let your Majesty know the libertine license in which he indulged himself, he was restrained from avowing any knowledge of Count Vimiosa’s daughter.—Of course their subsequent meeting was one of reproach: Gonsalva conquered.”

“She pleaded to Antonio the necessity of covering the consequences of their intrigue by some marriage, and since he could not legitimatize the child she carried, it was fortunate for them both, that instead of resigning herself to the observing, frigid De Castro (this was the epithet she gave me, Sire!) she might aggrandize their offspring by a union with Majesty itself.

“Antonio had yielded to her arguments, and they were impatiently waiting the arrival of Vimiosa from France to break through the engagement with me, when this abhorrent secret was confided to me by Urracca.—The woman spoke with a dying breath, could I doubt her veracity?—recovering that presence of mind which the shock had deprived me of, I besought her to repeat the story in confession to a holy friar who might hereafter support my testimony; she expired ere he arrived.

“It was now impossible for me to follow the impulse of my heart by hastening to undeceive my Sovereign; would he believe a tale so horribly improbable?—would he not deem it a malicious fabrication prompted by jealousy, or disappointment?—I was obliged to smother it in my own breast, and be content to watch the conduct of Gonsalva. Her third reception of me sealed the truth of Urracca.

“Your Majesty must now guess at the motive of my former inexplicable conduct: I sought only to gain time; I wished but to struggle with my sovereign’s desires, till the condition of Donna Gonsalva should become apparent to every eye, and the birth of her child render her shame notorious. If I erred in not hazarding my life by avowing at once”——

“I should not have believed you, noble, injured De Castro!” interrupted the King, stopping and fervently squeezing his hand, “how mad I was then, you well remember. I loved that pernicious woman to such delirious excess—no, no, it was not love,—let me not disgrace the sacred sentiment which sympathizes with Aziek’s, by affixing the same name to each!”

Sebastian had now afforded Don Emanuel an opportunity of giving a turn to their discourse.—Familiar with the name of Kara Aziek, on which Gasper had frequently dwelt in his narrative of their captivity, and yielding to pleasurable surprize, De Castro inquired the meaning of his Sovereign’s apostrophe.—

The succeeding explanation gave rise to a variety of sweet emotions in the bosom of Sebastian, which spreading over his countenance the glow of love and happiness, communicated to Don Emanuel a portion of his own delight.—That faithful noble contemplated his royal master’s character and person after a separation of nearly four years, with wonder and satisfaction: how much more of character was visible on those admirable lineaments!

The smiling beauty there, which was wont first to catch the sense, and charm the fancy, was now lost in the majesty of nobler expression: it was an expression that spoke sufferings magnanimously endured, passions bravely subdued, virtues rapidly matured. De Castro felt it penetrate his heart, and exalt the poignant feeling with which he revolved the wrongs and the privations of so interesting a creature.

With what attention did he listen to the recital of Sebastian’s visit to Portugal, his second captivity, his honorable reception at the court of Persia, and the rare attachment of Kara Aziek! in return he distinctly stated his own limited powers in Brazil.

Philip’s policy had gradually abridged them; yet aware of De Castro’s upright conduct in the arduous station to which he had been elevated, he suffered him to remain amongst the people whom his virtues rendered obedient. Every post of influence in Brazil was now filled by Spaniards, or Portuguese devoted to Spanish views: the colony was yet weak, and therefore unable to act alone in the cause of its lawful sovereign, should he even declare himself: its land could furnish only a resting-place for him and his, where they might securely wait under De Castro’s protection for some political change in Europe, which might prove favorable to discovery.

The death of Philip, or the defection of his most powerful allies, or possibly the insurrection of Portugal itself, might hereafter offer an inviting conjuncture for a step of some risk: the recovery of his crown could not be rashly attempted, if he would spare to his people the misery of a fruitless contest. Don Emanuel suggested nothing but patience, watchfulness, and hope.

Too well convinced by the arguments of De Castro, Sebastian saw that he had no other line of conduct to choose; he must reconcile himself to an obscure life in Brazil. He consented therefore to settle as a wealthy but untitled individual, whom a mercantile speculation had brought to the new world.

“I submit to my destiny;” he said, after they had discussed these topics, “I submit to my destiny! an inglorious, unoccupied life is a fresh trial for a spirit like mine.—Deem me not a boaster De Castro, when I say, that to live without an aim, without great and soul-quickening duties, will be in my eyes a living death: I shall scarcely feel privileged to enjoy the happiness of loving and being beloved by the little circle that now encloses all my affections.—To what have I reduced myself?—to a nothing!—a worthless husk deprived of what was valuable within!”

Sebastian sighed heavily, and fixed his eyes on the ground.

“Not so, my honored liege!” observed Don Emanuel, “a benevolent spirit can everywhere make for itself duties and enjoyments, for to what spot shall man fly, where the voice of suffering does not reach him?—Ignorance is a calamity; it is the soil of crimes; and here we are surrounded by ignorant natives, whom the memory of former cruelties almost justifies in hating us. Those great and amiable qualities, which even in a state of slavery made to themselves power and usefulness, will surely enable my King to find the same noble pleasures in a more liberal station.”

“You are right De Castro,” replied Sebastian, with a look of satisfaction, “I may here study the people I once governed without knowing; I may here endeavour to atone for the outrages of my ancestors, to that simple race whose land they moistened with blood. The magnificent gifts of Schah Abbas have made me rich,—adversity has made me patient; wealth and patience added to a sincere desire of doing good, ought to produce beneficial effects: if I can diffuse even a small portion of comfort around me, my days will not pass in vain.”

Sebastian now minutely inquired the character and situation of the neighbouring tribes, who tributary to the Portuguese government lived under their protection, and occasionally trafficked with them in skins and feathers: to attempt their civilization, appeared an object worth consideration. Don Emanuel briefly replied to him.

Among the tribes he described, were the Guaymures, a ferocious race that had formerly occupied the whole sweep of country, from Cape Frio to the river St. Francis: after perpetual wars with other tribes and European settlements, they were now driven beyond the southern bank of this great river, and lived roaming round the borders of the inconsiderable Cachoeira.

The Guaymures were cannibals: they devoured their prisoners taken in battle, and to their idol Marakha, occasionally sacrificed even their own infants. Armed with ponderous clubs and poisoned arrows, their naked bodies besmeared with the juices of noisome plants, and rendered hideous by strange punctures, their long black hair flying loose over their bodies, these tremendous savages would issue from their woods, yelling like beasts of prey, and falling on the plantations of the Europeans, would fire their sugar-mills, slaughter the inhabitants, and make horrid banquets upon their quivering limbs.

Carrying horror and misery to others, they were themselves wretched: each gentler tribe was interested in their destruction; and by open fight or secret ambush wasted their population, and robbed them of their food. The Guaymures had neither industry nor foresight, they were therefore exposed to perpetual want and suffering, even in that bounteous climate, where nature’s liberality almost out-runs the wishes of man: the rainy season produced amongst them the most grievous diseases, (for they had no better lodgings than trees) and the sick abandoned by their relations, perished in crowds every winter from starvation and bodily anguish.

Even while drawing this horrid picture, De Castro added some faint touches descriptive of humanity: here and there he could record an instance of magnanimity or of mercy, which inspired Sebastian with the hope of reclaiming these unhappy creatures from their habits of blood.

The tribe was now reduced to a number comparatively trifling; their situation was deplorable, “for every man’s hand was against them and their hand was against every man;” they were hunted like wild animals: thus pressed by famine and by persecution, they might not perhaps be so difficult to tame. Sebastian paused and considered.

“Force and terror have been used in vain,” said he, “let us then try gentleness: I still think so well of human nature, as to believe that no heart is beyond the touch of gratitude. The dismal condition of this exasperated race goes to my soul; surely I shall be able to convince them that I pity them, that I wish to succour them, that I want nothing from them, and if so, to win their affection will not be a chimerical attempt.”

As it would be prudent for Sebastian to shun scrutiny and promiscuous society in the capital, and as the viceroy now offered him a lodge near a country house of his own, within a league of the Guaymures, Sebastian instantly resolved to take up his abode there.

In this retirement his active mind would still find employment and objects of interest. The new task of humanizing a savage race, of teaching them the arts of European nations, elevating their thoughts beyond the mere animal part of our nature, and leading them to the knowledge and the worship of the one true God, would be a task of permanent gratification.

Blessed with love and friendship, and having regained the power of benefitting his fellow-creatures, he would no longer feel existence a blank: he would no longer consider this portion of his life wasted without memorial or recompence. It was sweet also to reflect, that such a plan embraced not merely his own views, but the peaceful wishes of Kara Aziek; sharing in each others satisfaction, both would be satisfied.

Having agreed on the propriety of extreme circumspection in their future intercourse, yet determining to avoid any appearance of mystery, the King and Don Emanuel settled the mode of their mutual visits. As a Portuguese merchant desirous of using his wealth for public good, the viceroy’s consideration of him might pass uncensured: his money and jewels were to be deposited for the present in the treasury of St. Salvador, and hereafter, part of it might be employed advantageously in commerce; with the remainder he could follow at will the dictates of benevolence.

Eager to impart this amiable project to Kara Aziek and to Caspar, Sebastian took leave of De Castro, who scarcely knew how to yield to the formalities imposed by his situation, since they retained him from hastening to pay the homage of duty and inclination to the wife of his sovereign.

A servant conducted the supposed merchant from the presence of the viceroy, to his temporary lodging in the city, where welcomed by her he loved, and by him he esteemed, Sebastian gave himself to joy, and strove to forget those horrid features of perfidy and depravity which the hand of De Castro had unveiled.

After this period, a scene completely new, opened before the King of Portugal; he removed to the house destined for him near the district of Guaymures, where he devoted himself to win the confidence of a suspicious and cruel, because fearful and once ill-used people.

By his orders the desolate solitude was filled with cottages, to which he invited his wandering neighbours: his first care was to supply their wants without exacting or seeming to wish for any influence over their feelings. He frequently allured their children to his dwelling, and returned them to their native forests, loaded with presents of ornament and use: the children communicated a portion of their own curiosity to their parents, and these were thus brought to come and be spectators of his conduct.

Imitating the example of Orpheus (the first tamer of men,) Sebastian touched their hearts through the purest of our senses: his flute, joined to the yet softer voice of Kara Aziek, called from their remotest haunt the amazed and delighted savages. Thus beguiled near him, they witnessed the comforts and the elegancies of polished life, in his own beautiful residence; from wandering, they came to understand and to admire; and the transition was easy from admiration to the wish of possession, and the desire of imitation.

One by one they deserted their woods and came to dwell in his cottages; at length they sent their children to the schools he established, in which the most simple and useful manufactures were taught. They learned to trust and to love him: by degrees they lost all doubt, they passed from the extreme of suspicion, to the extreme of confidence: and soon, as if drawn by magnetic force, the whole of the Guaymures deserted their mountain dens, abandoned their precarious existence, crouded around his colony, asking to be instructed in the arts of agriculture and building.

Industry like knowledge, has the property of humanizing; for the Guaymures ceased to delight in destruction: in proportion as they acquired the power of creating comfort around them, they became disgusted with scenes of wretchedness; and Sebastian had soon the gratification of beholding a people tamed by kindness, and rapidly proceeding in the path of improvement.

The village of Cachoeira became a town; it grew into the wonder and the boast of Brazil.

It was situated in a deep valley, embosomed among mountains covered with forests; the gentle Cachoeira washed their feet: plantations of young sugar-canes, maize and cotton, clothed the earth with their tender green; domestic cattle were seen feeding in meadows of the most luxuriant verdure; and round the lightly-constructed cottages arose gardens, in which beauty blended with utility.

The various and brilliant flowers of that benevolent climate grew there spontaneous: bowers of Tatai-iba and Guaiba appeared together, the purple fruitage of the one, and the glittering leaves and variegated blossoms of the other, mingled in the same shade.

Sometimes in summer evenings when the sun was about to set, and a freshening spirit breathed upon the reviving sense, Sebastian and Kara Aziek would sit under the flowery porch of their dwelling, and delight themselves with the joyous scene.

The village, with its white buildings, (each surrounded by cultivated ground) afforded a smiling prospect: its simple inhabitants released from labour, were collected under the shade of their trees, observing the sports of their children, as they pursued the gaudy insects of the country from flower to flower. Above their heads, shining like coloured foils in the sun and varying the spotless blue of the heavens, myriads of birds (whose plumage has no rival in our colder skies,) were seen flashing to and fro. Everything was magnificent, or beautiful, or cheerful: the very reptiles gliding through the grass, partook of beauty and glowed with living gold.

Sometimes a sudden and heavy rain would transiently interrupt their festivity, and fall with a mighty noise alarming to those who have never heard it before: but these fearful showers are of short continuance, they cease as suddenly as they commence; again the veil would disappear from the azure sky, again the scattered birds would sparkle in the setting light; and rainbows of inconceivable magnitude and splendor, would stretch from height to height, clasping in their gigantic arch the dark and massy forests below.

Far remote from the depths of these pathless woods, would come the sound of mountain-torrents and river falls which the rain had hastily swelled. Sebastian saw not the forests of Brazil without sublime emotions: their depth, their darkness, the immeasurable height of their trees, (whose thick branches had been woven together since creation;) the strange and solemn sounds proceeding from them, (to which the mind could not affix any distinct image, but which were indeed the mixed noise of insects, of birds, and of serpents, that dwelt among their innumerous leaves) all conspired to arrest and fix attention.

These vast solitudes seemed to him like the impenetrable depths of time past, and time to come: he contemplated them with similar feelings, and often did their mysterious gloom soberize his thoughts, when the delighted spirit of Kara Aziek had beguiled him into joyance. Then, lost in profound reveries, he would amaze himself with comparing the different parts of his chequered life: the years of his youth and prosperity, those of his manhood and misfortune would pass in review before him, and while he alternately remembered the days he had spent amongst the nobles in Portugal, and those he had lingered out in bitter servitude in Africa, he started to find himself thus isolated from all that was familiar, an individual almost solitary, standing on the shore of the broad Atlantic, teaching savages how to live, and peaceably gliding through existence without a name, a station, almost without a wish!

But was there not a voice within his own breast, the sound of which was more precious to him than the loudest blast of fame? Were there not eyes that looked on him with such fulness of love and joy that he needed no livelier emotion?

The countenance of Kara Aziek beamed with her happy and approving heart: she beheld her Sebastian with enthusiasm, for she saw in him at Cachoeira, more than a King.

What palace could present so majectic a spectacle as the populous and busy valley which his beneficence had spread with dwellings and crouded with inhabitants? What train of courtiers, what pomp of ceremonies might compare with the touching and sublime sight of parents and children, husbands and wives, hanging round his steps, with thanks and assiduities, abhorring their former brutish and desperate lives, and owing to him all the blessings of civilization?

The savages reclaimed from their barbarous habits, and won to imitate the social virtues by feeling their sweet effects, were led to seek some acquaintance with their benefactor’s worship.

It was to this point Sebastian had looked for the only binding principle capable of cementing and giving duration to the virtues they had learned from selfish motives, but which it was necessary for them to practise with nobler feelings, in order to deserve the name of virtuous. He taught them the religion he believed and loved himself; but he spoke only to their hearts, they were not yet sufficiently enlightened to comprehend a direct appeal to their reason. He bewildered not their just-awakening intellect by such mysterious contradictions as the professors of popery were used to force upon their converts: it was enough for him to place them on the right track, confident that as their minds expanded by exercise on minor subjects, their moral and religious views would expand also.

At first the monks adjacent, were clamorous against this heresy of the Indians, but Don Emanuel De Castro’s authority suppressed their murmurs, and the Brazilian Portuguese relieved from the terror which the Guaymures formerly inspired, and benefitted by the gold of their countryman, suffered themselves to believe that to no other form of Christian worship would these savages have submitted.

Thus protected by the power of Don Emanuel, and assured of his friendship, Sebastian was content to remain in exile from his country and his throne, while Providence allowed him thus amply to fill even an obscure sphere of usefulness. His soul and his senses had pleasures in Brazil far superior to all they had ever enjoyed in the old world: the sight of so many human beings rescued from the misery of ignorance, indolence, and crime, was a never-ceasing source of satisfaction; and to this was added the society of a tried friend, (for Gaspar had come to Cachoeira) and the perpetual possession of her who summed up in herself all that was necessary to complete the happiness of Sebastian: she delighted his taste, she filled his heart.

The magnificent scenery of Brazil, its wondrous productions, and balsamic climate, added to his enjoyments by producing a variety of pleasurable sensations; he tasted for the first time a sweet and tranquil happiness; tranquil because it was profound and constant in its flow: he forgot not his kingdom, but he thought of it with less anxiety, and knowing that his days were passed in action, he ceased to regret his separation from other duties.

Kara Aziek’s soul dwelt in the light of his: like the beautiful planet of night she reflected his happiness with a softened brightness. He knew himself the source of all the blessings he witnessed around him, therefore his feelings were animated and striking; she lived to love his goodness, to watch the daily colour of his mind, to adapt herself to the passing humour of the hour, to receive her bliss from the knowledge of his, and that bliss therefore wore a tenderer and more touching aspect.

Her natural humility taught her to overlook the value of her own character and actions; but Sebastian marked them all with fond approbation; and often pausing to regard her as she administered to the wants or infirmities of the aged Guaymures, he confessed to himself that to elevate her to a throne would be to remove her from a scene in which the most endearing virtues of her soul were exercised.

Gaspar alone preserved an undiminished thirst for his King’s restoration: he beheld him with a devotion nearly allied to idolatry, and in proportion as that exalted friend became absorbed in his new duties and delighted with the pleasures growing out of them, Gaspar’s admiration and love increased, and with them his wish to see him re-seated on the throne of his ancestors.

He languished to have those royal virtues shine upon his own country; he languished to have that chastened character known in its full excellence, where it was now remembered only with a mixture of esteem and blame. His eyes would often fill with tears, while those of Sebastian and Kara Aziek were sparkling with amiable sympathy in the simple pastimes of their Indians; but his heart shared in that sympathy, and could he have dismissed this one source of repining, he too, would have been compleatly happy at Cachoeira.