share of the inscription which Cortes put on the silver culverin, we called the phœnix, and which Cortes sent a present to his majesty from Mexico. The inscription ran thus:
This bird was born without its equal,
As a servant I have not my second,
And you have not your equal in this world.
And when Cortes, on his first return to Spain spoke to his majesty of the courageous officers and soldiers who had served under him in the Mexican wars, I was also included in this number. Cortes also took frequent opportunities of speaking to his majesty in our praise during the unfortunate expedition against Algiers, and of this praise a part was also due to me; for I lent also my assistance in the conquest.
This was my reply to the two licentiates; but with respect to the reproach they made me of having spoken too much in my own praise, and that all this self-praise would have come with a better grace from others, I desired them to bear in mind, that there are indeed certain virtues and excellent qualities which we ought never to praise in ourselves, but let our neighbours do it for us; but how is it possible for a neighbour to mention anything in the praise of another if he was not present at the battle with him? Are the sparrows, said I, to speak of it, who flew over our heads during the engagements? or the clouds, that floated on high? Who can speak better about it than we, the officers and soldiers, the men who themselves fought the battles? Your reproach, gentlemen, would have been very just, continued I, if in my history you had found that I had withheld the praise that was due to the officers and soldiers who were my companions in arms, and I had claimed all the honour to myself; but I have not even said so much in my own praise as I could, and indeed ought to have done; but I write that my name may not be forgotten. Here I feel tempted to make a comparison, though it is between a very