No, 29. EDINBURGH, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 1845. THE COMMON ORIGIN OF MANKIND. It is indisputably the doctrine of the Bible, that the happy pair who dwelt in Eden were the sole progenitors of the human race. The sacredness of the source from which the doctrine is derived, begets in many a strong reluctance to inquire how far it is capable of being maintained on cientific grounds. Since the question has been decided by the authority of Heaven, is it not impious to subject it o any process of philosophical investigation? But an attempt to ascertain whether what is taught in the Bible an be supported by independent evidence does not necesarily presuppose suspicion of its truth. Every enlightned Christian must believe that, between nature acurately observed and revelation accurately interpreted, here is, there can be no contradiction; so that the more liligently the students of both prosecute their researches, he more they will discover latent points of harmony and coincidence between the two volumes which the Creator has prepared for the instruction of mankind. The Bible presents to our minds a momentous array of facts and doctrines: some of which transcend our reason, and must be received in the simplicity of faith; while others relate to matters of consciousness, or observation, or history, and may be confirmed or corroborated by proofs which are collected from every department of human knowledge. Instead of frowning on the votaries of science as their natural enemies, the disciples of Christianity should rather welcome them as fellow-labourers in the same great cause, and express gratitude for the important contributions which they have made, whether intentionally or unintentionally, to the evidence and the illustration of the Book of Books. Let the astronomer direct his glass to the starry heavens-let the geologist travel from land to land to swell his collection of fossils-let the phrenologist descant on the functions of the brain-and we shall always be glad to receive their reports, provided only they report nothing which they have not actually seen. We regard them as commentators on the sacred volume, although of a different class, as well as Matthew Henry, and Thomas Scott, and Adam Clarke. The natural history of man scarcely engaged attention, as a separate subject of discussion, till the beginning of the present century. The father of the study was Blumenbach, who gave in his writings the first example of exact and extensive examination of the varieties of the human species. The English author who has distinguished himself most highly in this province is Dr Prichard. The results of his labours are embodied in two works which have won the admiration of all competent PRICE 11d. judges' Researches into the Physical History of Mankind,' and 'The Natural History of Man.' These works are the storehouse from which all future writers on the common origin of the human family must draw a large proportion of their materials, some more, some less directly. We have thought that it might not be uninteresting to lay before our readers an abstract of the argument by which it may be proved that mankind are descended from one pair. I. The first branch of the argument is, that in those respects in which varieties of the same species are usually understood to agree, the members of the human family evince a resemblance to each other. We may specify the duration of life, the progress of development, the forms of disease, and the nature of the faculties, instincts, and habits. The average duration of life varies considerably among different tribes of men. Yet the variation is not greater than is satisfactorily explained by their geographical position, their climate, their mode of subsistence, their social state, and other circumstances. If the rate of mortality be so sensibly affected by the diversities that exist among the same people, why should we wonder at its increase or diminution among communities that are subject not only to dissimilar, but to opposite orders of influence? Were there any tribe in which the average duration of life is as low as thirty, or as high as a hundred years, there might be some pretext for doubt. There is none such. There is no spot on earth where it is felt necessary to object to the words of Moses, as erring either by excess or by defect: The days of our years are threescore and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow, for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.' With regard to the term of longevity or the extreme limit of human existence, there is almost entire uniformity. There have been persons everywhere, whose lot it was to survive the generation with which they have grown old, but none of them has survived it beyond a very brief period. It needs no more than a casual inspection of the records of longevity to convince us that it is not a privilege of which any race of men can boast a monopoly. There is a progress of development by which the infant rises to the proportions of a full-grown man or woman. It is the same in every human being who arrives at maturity. Whether she was a black or a brown, or a white mother, that smiled on the natal hour of the little stranger, her offspring must pass through the same series of changes before she shall be relieved from the office of maternal superintendence. Where is it that children do not draw their first nourishment from a woman's breast? desire, the longing after immortality.' If we go with them to inspect their public buildings, we see the house of worship and the monuments of the dead. Do not these manifestations of kindred sentiments and sensibilities proclaim with a voice which is echoed from the innost recesses of our nature, that we are all united by an indissoluble bond of brotherhood? Where do they speak without a prompter, and walk without a guide? Where is their cradle exempt from the intrusion of disease? Where does their body not unfold its members and organs in the same order? Where are the signs of puberty not alike? The age at which the boy is entitled to assume the manly gown' or 'the long coat,' and the girl to listen to the popping of the question,' may change: these are matters for custom or fashion to II. The second branch of the argument is, that in those prescribe; but when we look on the well built frame of respects by which one species is usually understood to be the one and the full blown beauty of the other, we expe- | distinguished from another, the members of the human rience no difficulty in telling through what stages they family evince no difference. have passed in reaching what they are. Every species of animals has diseases peculiar to itself, and which, however virulent in their contagion, cannot be communicated to another. There are exceptions to this rule; for a morbid poison which has its origin in one species, is sometimes conveyed to individuals belonging to another, as when the bite of a rabid dog infects the human subject with hydrophobia. Yet it must be admitted, as a general rule, that diseases are not capable of transmission from one species to another. Under the shelter of this law, a flock of animals of one species may roam unhurt through an extensive tract, while multitudes of other kinds are swept away by the besom of destruction. If all men did not belong to the same family there would be epidemic diseases, which, although frequent, and fell in their ravages among some tribes, could effect no lodgment in the constitution of others. There are different degrees of liability to their attack, but complete immunity nowhere exists. The plague has found its victims in every clime: the historian tells of the plague of Athens, as well as the plague of London. Small- | pox does not spare the natives of any particular region: it may fret with its unsightly scars the face either of the woolly son of Africa, or of the blue-eyed daughter of a European land. Cholera pursued its course of devastation and death from the Ganges to the Forth, testifying, by the absence of any constitutional check to its progress, that, from the sunburnt Hindoo to the hardy Caledonian, we are all 'made of one blood.' The faculties, instincts, and habits of human nature, are its leading characteristics. A resemblance may be traced between man and some of the inferior animals, in his bodily structure and organization; although it has no doubt been greatly exaggerated by would-be sages, ambitious, from what motives we know not, to prove themselves nearest of kin to the ape or the baboon. In respect to whatever belongs to mind, man holds an unapproachable pre-eminence; so that, even in his fallen state, he retains the prerogative with which he was invested in the age of his innocence of having 'dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth on the earth. In these nobler attributes of humanity, all men share as their birthright. Were it possible to assemble in one place a few individuals from every country of the globe, it would not be easy to observe their various costumes, to mark their various complexions, and to listen to their various languages, without feeling as if we had before us specimens of the population of different worlds. But if we accompanied the members of this representative congress of the human family' in their return to their own homes, we would soon discover that under all this astonishing variety there lurks a substantial identity: the drapery is different, the nature is the same. If we go with them to the scenes of their ordinary employments, we see them exploring the same regions of nature, using the same properties of matter, and resorting to the same mechanical principles. If we go with them to the festive board, we see the same social excitement, and hear the same jocund laugh and cheerful song. If we go with them to their places of public concourse, we see the same competition of equals, the same oppression of superiors, the same jealousy of the weak. If we go with them to the sickbed, we see the same anguish on the part of the patient, and the same sympathy on the part of the spectator. If we go with them to the deathbed, we see the same fond 6 Let us refer here to the phenomena of breeding which are admitted to furnish the clearest distinction of species, in the zoological sense of the term. It is well known. that animals of different sorts (for we need not here allude to the kindred facts of the vegetable world) have a strong aversion to form the sexual union with each other. This arrangement is eminently subservient to order, which is said to be 'Heaven's first law: for if promiscuous intercourse were common, the world would soon be overrun with mongrel and nondescript breeds, which would not only derange the classification of the naturalist, but would subvert the whole economy of nature. The aversion, however, is not invincible. Every schoolboy is familiar with the crossing of the horse and the ass; and of the canary, and bullfinch, or yellowhammer, or sparrow. But irregular union among animals is seldom productive of offspring: never when the species to which they belong are separated by a broad interval. And even in these cases in which offspring follows, it does not possess the power of perpetuating its kind. The laws of nature have put hybrids under the ban of all but universal sterility. They never propagate beyond at most a few generations, and then it is not by the union of mule with mule, but by reunion with a pure breed. What are the facts on this subject with regard to the human race? | Such an antipathy as has been described does not exist among them. The flame of mutual love, is kindled in the bosom of many a pair who trace their descent from a widely different line of ancestry, and who display the marks of a widely distant birthplace. Whatever aversion the European maid may feel to give her heart and hand to a man of colour, is conventional, not natural; and the children may be as eminent for every quality that should fix the affections of a parent, as if her husband had been of her own complexion. Nay, the intermarriage of different races, instead of producing a degenerate progeny, is generally followed by an improvement both of body and mind. Many of the countries that have carried civilisation to its highest pitch, have been inhabited by those who exemplified this mixture of blood. III. The third branch of the argument is, that the respects in which the members of the human family display signs of dissimilarity, are not greater or more numerous than are found among animals confessedly of the same species. The main points of dissimilarity among mankind, relate either to colour, or to form and structure. There is generally a close correspondence between the colour of the skin, hair, and eyes. When the hair is white or red, the complexion is fair or ruddy; when the hair is dark, the complexion varies from a slight brown tint to jet-black. Persons who have a fair complexion, and flaxen or auburn hair, have light-blue or grey eyes the eyes of those who have a swarthy colour of skin and hair, are dark. As it is difficult to describe in words the various hues and shades which are presented in the human skin, it is more convenient to adopt the colour of the hair as the mark of the difference of complexion which exists among our race; and there are three varieties which may be defined without the aid of scientific knowledge-the black-haired, the white-haired, and the redhaired. The black-haired variety includes the largest section of the human family. Except in the northern parts of Asia, and of our own continent, it has a decided preponderance among the inhabitants of almost all countries: insomuch, that some of the most eminent natu ralists have pronounced that the hair of the first man must have been black. The white-haired variety is not characteristic of any particular tribe or country, but is found almost everywhere. It comprehends what are called the Albinos, a most singular class of human beings. Their general appearance is cadaverous; their body is covered with a soft milk-white down; their skin is rough and scurfy, and apt to crack as if affected with leprosy; their eyes are red, and being without the black mucus which absorbs the superfluous rays of light, are incapable of enduring the splendour of the meridian sun; their favourite hour is 'the noon of night,' when their organs of vision are more acute than at midday; and hence they have been termed by Linnæus and others, nocturnal men.' The most astonishing instances of this variety, are perhaps the white negroes, who appear occasionally among the sable tribes of Africa. The red-haired variety prevails chiefly in those parts of Europe and Asia where the temperature is less sultry. Its principal haunt is in regions that are comparatively cold; so that the tribes which have chosen their home among the mountains often display a profusion of golden' ringlets (to borrow an epithet from Virgil), while their lowland neighbours are black-haired. It seems a just inference, that there is something in the climate of certain districts of the earth that is favourable to the production of this variety. grey, and white cats? Are there not black, white, and red sheep? Are there not white rabbits and white mice— the very albinos of their respective species? With regard to form and structure, there is a similar diversity. The skulls of the different tribes of men are much more alike than those of different breeds of horses. The sow is acknowledged to be a legitimate descendant of the wild boar, yet the skull of the one differs as widely from that of the other, as a Hottentot's from a Scotchman's. As this animal has generally followed in the track of the discoveries of the lords of the creation, it exhibits a close parallel of the changes which they may be supposed to have undergone. It is a historical fact, that there were no swine in America at the time when it was discovered by Columbus. They were soon introduced from Europe, but during the short period which has intervened, there has been a wide departure from the parent stock. These are no more than a few examples: are they not, however, sufficient to prove, that if minor points of dissimilarity are to be held adequate grounds for doubting identity of species, the whole history of animated nature must be written anew? IV. The fourth branch of the argument is, that instances can be mentioned in which the varieties that exist among mankind have been actually produced within the period to which authentic history extends. The varieties of form and structure, if less obvious than the varieties of colour, are not less real or prominent. It has been common to enumerate five classes of nations into which the human race may be divided, on account of the strongly marked lines by which they are distinguished from each other: the Caucasian, the Mongolian, the Ethiopian, the American, and the Malay. Recent writers have proposed a different classification: the Iranian, Turanean, American, Hottentot, Negro, Papua, and Alfourou, including the Australian under the last of these classes. Whether we prefer the old or the new nomenclature, we must recognise the shape of the skull as the most conspicuous mark of the varieties that exist among mankind with respect to form and structure, and there are three which may be easily distinguished-the oval, the narrow and long-faced, and the broad and square-It will, I apprehend, be allowed by those who have atfaced. The oval is that which characterizes all the natives of Europe, and consequently ourselves. It is needless to tell how symmetrical is the head, how ample the brow, and how regular the features; for whoever will look in the face the next person he meets, or notice the form which is reflected from his mirror, may see a specimen of the Caucasian variety. The narrow and longfaced is exemplified in the skull of the Negro. The degrading comparisons which have been made between this class of nations and some of the inferior animals, are owing to the inquirer having confined his observations to the young chimpanzee, in which, from the partial development of the bones of the face, the skull appears larger in proportion than it is in the mature monkey. The facial angle is scarcely less in the negro than it is in many a Briton, who scorns him for his inferiority; and if it be, it is not so much from the smaller size of his cranium, as from the projection of the lower part of his face. The broad and square-faced has its type in the Esquimaux, Finns, Kalmuks, Chinese, and other families of the Mongolian variety. The pictures of the mandarins of the Celestial Empire, which recent events have placed within every body's reach, must supersede the necessity of verbal description. The full illustration of this topic would impose on us an inquiry into the dispersion of the human race, and into the origin and affinities of the nations into which it has been divided. This inquiry, although too laborious to be prosecuted here, has been pushed as far as the present state of information admits. Dr Prichard devotes to it three volumes of his larger work. He first surveys the various tribes that inhabit the African continent; then the races that are scattered through the Austral countries and the islands of the Indian Ocean; then the several branches of the great family from which Europeans draw their descent; then the nations that are recognised as the children of Shem; then the population of the northern and eastern parts of Asia; then the native tribes of the new world. The result may be stated in his own words :tentively followed this investigation of particulars, that the diversities in physical character belonging to different races present no material obstacle to the opinion that all nations sprang from one original—a result which plainly follows from the foregoing considerations.' This sketch of the varieties of colour, form, and structure, that occur among the different tribes of men, may produce in some minds an impression unfavourable to the belief of their common origin. Before any one yields to the influence of this impression, let him inquire whether there are not corresponding varieties among inferior animals confessedly of the same species. There is an overwhelming amount of proof. With regard to colour, let us observe the diversity among the animals with which domestication has made us most familiar. Are there not black, white, and bay horses? Are there not black, It is not pretended that under each branch of this argument there are not some facts of which, in the present state of our knowledge, we cannot give a satisfactory explanation. But it is maintained that it demonstrates on scientific grounds a vastly preponderating probability in favour of the doctrine which we believe on the authority of revelation That God made of one blood all nations of men to dwell on all the face of the earth.' This is a doctrine that is dear to the heart of every philanthropist, and especially every Christian philanthropist. There are many who entertain the most desponding views of the fate of large sections of the human race, and who predict, almost without a sigh, that it is their destiny to be driven into the ocean by the aggressions of the pioneers of civilisation, or to fall before the artillery of the white man, or to be consumed with the firewater' which constitutes the principal beverage of the race of mortals for whom the sovereignty of the earth is reserved. Their opinion is generally founded on a belief, conscious or latent, of the inherent and inevitable inferiority of the beings whom they so coolly resign to destruction. But if the aborigines of America, and Australia, and New Zealand, are bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh,' why should we be of that wicked one and slay our brother ? All the elements of our own humanity are lodged in their bosom; and if these were duly evolved, they might not only equal but outstrip us in the career of intellectual and moral improvement. It is not extermination but education which should be the watchword of the true philanthropist. Since savages belong to the human race, it is absurd to rank a proposal to extend to them the blessings of education in the same category as a proposal to teach the starling to speak, or the dog to dance, or the sow to know, or the mouse to sing. The same fact should urge us to communicate to all the advantages not only of civilisation but of Christianity. All need the peculiar blessings of the religion of the New Testament; all are capable of receiving them. If there are any inhabitants of earth who have sunk below the reach of the sage or the statesman, there are none who have sunk below the reach of the minister and the missionary. As long as they wear the indelible traces of human nature-that nature which the Son of God condescended to assume and shall retain for ever-that nature for which the sacrifice of the cross was offered that nature to which a spiritual influence is promised that nature for whose admission the portals of heaven are set open-as long as they wear the indelible traces of human nature, we dare to affirm that it is possible to convert them to Christianity. What the Moravians have done in Greenland, what the London Missionary Society has done in the South Seas, what the Baptist Missionary Society has done in India, what the Glasgow Missionary Society has done in Africa, what missionary enterprise has achieved during the last fifty years in every part of the globe, is a proof and a pledge of what might be accomplished if the experiment were made on a comprehensive scale by a unanimous church. Sat down by proud Euphrates' stream,' &c. upon which he wrote a paraphrase which is very much admired. On his arrival at Goa, in 1561, Camoens was graciously received by the viceroy Dom Constantino, who was a brother of Dom Theodosio de Braganza, and a friend of the poet. This distinguished nobleman used all his endeavours to efface as much as possible the remembrance of his misfortunes. Grateful for these endeavours, and sensible of the superior character of the new viceroy compared with his former persecutor Barreto, he addressed to him an epistle in verse, in imitation of that of Horace to Augustus, in which he disclaims having been induced, by any prospect of reward, to compose the poem or to flatter his protector. During the short administration of Dom Constantino, our poet enjoyed some of that tranquillity of mind to which he had been for so long a period a stranger. He was highly esteemed and noticed by the nobility of India. On one occasion he invited several of these noblemen to an entertainment, who were not a little surprised on uncovering their plates to find that, instead of the first course, a set of verses had been placed for each. The plot and playfulness of the verses caused considerable mirth and amusement, and added much zest to the subsequent and more substantial part of the banquet. But this sort of interregnum in the misfortunes of Camoens was but of short duration. Towards the end of the same year in which he had escaped from shipwreck, saving nothing but his life and his poem, Dom Constantino, who had treated him so kindly, was replaced by Continho, Count of Redondo, and immediately left Goa for Portugal. This change of affairs gave the enemies of our poet a fresh opportunity of showing their insatiable hatred; and although the new governor was an admirer and a friend of Camoens, he could not protect him against accusations brought forward respecting the administration of his office at Macao. He was charged with malversation, and immediately arrested and thrown into prison. As was to be expected, Camoens proved satisfactorily, from the place of his confinement, the falsity of this calumnious accusation, and removed all suspicion of his having in the least departed from those invariable principles of honour and justice for which he has been so deservedly praised. Nevertheless, as he had entered Goa in the greatest state of destitution, he was not free from some pecuniary engagements; and at the very moment when the gates of the prison were open to him, in conse quence of his complete vindication of his character and conduct in office, he was detained in custody for a trifling debt. On this occasion he was liberated from prison by the viceroy himself, who was about to set sail with an expedition, and whom Camoens seems to have accompanied as a volunteer. For several years after this event Camoens remained in India, dedicating the winter season to his compositions, and joining in the spring the various naval and military expeditions which left Goa every year, for the purpose of protecting the different kings and chiefs tributary to the Portuguese crown. Having now completed his immortal poem, Camoens resolved to embark for Europe, for the purpose of laying it before Dom Sebastian, who had just ascended the throne of Portugal. Aware of its merits, and of the high honour it was cal culated to confer upon his country, he felt confident of receiving that remuneration which was due to his talents, and to which he had an additional claim through his protracted and meritorious services. There was, however, one obstacle to surmount, which not unfrequently counteracts the efforts of superior minds, while it is easily overcome by the more numerous plodding herd, with whom there is but one interest, self; but one idol, gold. We have already stated, that while equally dividing his efforts to save his life and his poem, Camoens had lost, in a shipwreck, all the little fortune he possessed; and as disinterestedness and an independent spirit were qualities diametrically opposed to those by which money was then acquired in India, our readers will not be surprised to learn, that the greatest poet of his age did not possess the means of conveying himself to Portugal. While revolving in his mind how this purpose might be attained, he unfortunately listened to the solicitations of Pedro Barreto, who was on the eve of his departure to assume the government of Sofala, and who was desirous that Camoens should accompany him. This man, who it will be remembered bore the same name as our poet's former persecutor, had a deeper motive for his attentions to Camoens than the desire of assisting him in his projected return to the kingdom; his sole object being to retain the poet in his service, hoping to participate in the lustre which so great and respected a man must have conferred on him by being attached to his retinue. suspiciously accompanied Barreto to Sofala, whence he expected to find it easier to transport himself to Lisbon; but he was not long in finding that he had been utterly deceived by the promises held out to him, and his chagrin and disappointment concentrated themselves into an anxiety to quit a situation in which he found himself exposed to repeated cruelty and insult from men who were inferior to him in every thing but the favours of fortune. Camoens un The wished-for opportunity presented itself. The arrival of Diego de Conto, the historian, with several of the poet's friends whom he had known in India, now on their way to Lisbon, afforded Camoens the best means of freeing himself from the captivity which he had endured. The cruel governor, however, was no sooner made aware of his intentions than he determined to prevent his departure, by demanding the payment of two hundred cruzados, which he said he had spent with the poet on his passage from Goa to Mozambique; and as he well knew his inability to raise the amount, fancied himself sure of his victim. Several noblemen, however, whose names we find recorded in history, subscribed with Conto to raise the sum demanded, and thus released the supposed debtor from the grasp of the sordid governor. For this paltry sum,' says à Portuguese writer, 'were sold at once the person of Camoens and the honour of Barreto.' In his passage homewards, Camoens was very kindly treated by the noblemen who had so opportunely rescued him from captivity, and his condition as much improved as circumstances would admit of. Unfortunately, however, the period at which he reached Lisbon, 1569, was the most unpropitious to the publication of his poem. Amidst the general desolation of a terrible plague, the young king himself, under whose auspices and patronage Camoens intended the Lusiad to be published, had been obliged to leave the capital, and was constantly changing his residence. Under these unfavourable circumstances, added to the poverty to which our poet had formerly been reduced, it is no wonder that his poem did not appear before the public until nearly two years after his arrival at court. This period was spent by Camoens in preparing his Lusiad for the press, and in making unfruitful attempts to approach the person of the young king, whose ministers are represented as having misled him, not only with regard to the claims of our poet, but in reference to the affairs of the state. To these men, whom history represents as envious and deceitful, the noble and generous ideas of the poet, as well as the honourable and wholesome advice which he gave to his sovereign, were not calculated to be very palatable; and it is to them, and not to the young king, who only afterwards came to see the poem, that the greatest blame is imputed. That the ministers were principally concerned in this shameful neglect, is further corroborated by the fact that it was at the suggestion of one of these, Martin da Camara, that the pension bestowed by the king upon Camoens, when he came to know of his claims, was reduced to the most pitiful and narrow limits. Had not Camoens composed the Lusiad, for which he has been almost worshipped after his death, he would have met during his life with that recompense for his military services which so many of inferior merit had never failed to obtain; but the superior lustre of his gigantic intellect dazzled rather than pleased the majority of those who had it in their power to confer upon him the honours he deserved; and it was not until after his death, when envy and jealousy could no longer exist, that our poet obtained that homage and veneration which men are generally unwilling to bestow upon living genius. When Camoens had at last succeeded in obtaining that desired patronage, destined to be of such short duration, he published his Lusiad, which appeared in the year 1572. The appearance of this, the first modern epic poem, was hailed as a new era in poetry, and the literary world received this extraordinary production with the greatest applause and appreciation of its intrinsic merits. That this was the case may be inferred, not only from the fact that the Lusiad was reprinted in the first year of its publication, but also from the following anecdote. Two different Portuguese writers have recorded that Pedro da Costa, a secretary of the king, and a poet of some celebrity, had by this time composed a poem on the same subject as the work of Camoens, which he had entitled Descobrimento de Vasco da Gama,' containing sixteen cantos, but that on seing the Lusiad he relinquished the idea of publishing his own poem. rivals Arrived at this stage of our narrative, we would fain give our readers some idea of a poem which, while it every composition of its kind in ancient and modern literature, is scarcely known by name to many who have read Homer and Virgil, and who would blush to say that they had not carefully studied Milton and Shakspeare. We regret, however, that space will not allow us to dwell any length upon this part of our sketch, and will content ourselves with a few observations, as well as two or three extracts, which we have no doubt will lead our for readers to search for instruction as well as delight in the great work of our prince of poets. Many of those who would willingly read the Lusiad of Camoens, were they acquainted with the 'sweetly sonorous language' in which it was written, are generally deterred from perusing a translation, from the mistaken idea that all translations are necessarily deficient, and can only convey a mutilated shadow of the original. We do not pretend to combat this opinion, if duly restricted to many works of genius, translated by individuals who did not possess the poetical talent and qualifications required for such undertakings; but of this we are certain, that if those persons who are inclined to give it too great a scope would attentively study Pope's translation of the Iliad, or even Delille's version of the Eneid, they would willingly confess, that if many translations are incorrect and deficient, the same cannot be said of every performance of the kind. In the short notice of the Lusiad which we purpose to give our readers, we shall have occasion to submit to them two or three specimens of the manner in which Mr More Musgrave has performed the translation of this poem, and we do not doubt that they will be the means of its being more generally read. To give an idea of the indisputable claims which the Lusiad possesses to public notice, we cannot do better than introduce a passage by Mickle, in the introduction to his version of our poet's masterpiece. If a concatenation of events centered in one great action, events which gave birth to the present commercial system of the world; if these be of the first importance in the civil history of mankind, the Lusiad, of all other poems, challenges the attention of the philosopher, the politician, and the gentleman. In contradistinction to the Iliad and Æneid, the Paradise Lost has been called the epic poem of religion; in the same manner may the Lusiad be named the epic poem of commerce. The happy completion of the most important designs of Henry Duke of Viseo, Prince of Portugal, to whom Europe owes both Gama and Columbus, both the eastern and the western worlds, constitutes the subject of that celebrated epic poem (known hitherto in England almost only by name) which is now offered to the English reader.' Nor are these the only considerations which render the subject of our poem one of the greatest interest. Any one who is conversant with history must be aware that to the conquests of the Portuguese in the east, Europe is indebted, not only for its navigation and commerce with Asia, but also for the strength which it acquired through the decrease of the Mussulman power that was becoming so dangerous to its freedom and tranquillity. And if we, moreover, consider the state of nautical knowledge in Europe at the time, the dread of tempting distant seas which prevailed previous to the Portuguese expeditions, together with the smallness of the nation which made the discovery, it will not be denied that the subject of the Lusiad is one of the most heroic of human actions on record. But if the subject of the poem is one of such transcendent importance, the qualifications of the poet to undertake the celebration of that momentous event were in no way inferior to the task. Not only is the Lusiad the first regular and justly esteemed' epic poem of modern times, having thus earned the glorious title of priority, but although nearly three hundred years, have now elapsed since it was composed, it still rivals every other production of its kind, and is considered by a large proportion of mankind to be infinitely superior to them all. Another circumstance, which to one who is not acquainted with the Lusiad must appear extraordinary, is the fact, that although Camoens was one of the first who formed the Portuguese language, not one phrase or even a word used by him has become obsolete or obscure. A more convincing proof could scarcely be given of his intimate knowledge, not only of his own language, but of the classics from which it has been principally derived; and it is unnecessary to remark, that no small amount of talent and erudition would be required to fix the phraseology and words of a language, at a time too when no |