would both dictate terms to God and their king, that for so much service they must have so much reward. Both were full of the follies of their day; but Columbus displayed a grave, unconscious folly, while Cortés consciously indulged in all the follies of lust and cruelty that prudence admitted or his aim demanded. Cortés abandoned himself to ambition; Columbus to brooding thought. The insanity of reckless adventure was not the insanity of Columbus, who nevertheless was as mad as any lunatic in his own way. Commanding energy and practical daring were as conspicuous in Cortés as in Columbus; but it happened that the aims of Columbus were of greater import to the race than those of Cortés.
How alike, and yet how different, these men!
Cortés was impetuous and extravagant; Columbus calm, calculating, and prudent. One was full of joyous activity, the simple exercise of which was his greatest pleasure; obligations of every sort sat lightly on him; the other was but an instrument in the hands of providence.
Both were ambitious, both excessively religious; but Cortés, in the main, made religion subservient to advancement, as before noted, while mundane glories to Columbus were hollow indeed beside his heavenly aspirations.
Both were exceedingly great men; both became eminent by a selfish adventure of self; but Columbus saw the New World through the glorious haze of immortality, while Cortés viewed Mexico under the lightly woven covering of personal ambition.
Cortés was an Antony rather than a Cæsar, nor did he lack that one great gift of Antony’s, subordination, as we have seen. He was not so greatly in love with himself, stood not so greatly in awe of himself, as Cæsar; he was