demonstration. That he had no acquaintance with
Mr. Prescott’s collection is a matter within
our personal knowledge. Had he been in a position
to obtain copies for himself, and had he availed himself
of that circumstance, he would not have failed to
proclaim the fact in his loudest and shrillest tones.
Nor does he pretend that he has ever visited Spain,
and had access to the originals. Indeed, we do
not think he would have ventured upon such a step.
He tells us, that, “besides the reasons already
given for distrusting the correctness of Spanish statements,
there is another, more secret in character, but not
less potent than all combined—fear of incurring
the displeasure of that tribunal which punished unbelief
with fire, torture, and confiscation.” If
Mr. Wilson, as his language implies, stands in fear
of “fire, torture, and confiscation,” and
if this is his most potent reason for distrusting
the correctness of Spanish statements, we can readily
understand why he should have chosen to remain on
his native soil and write the history of the Conquest
of Mexico from “the American stand-point.”
Lastly, Mr. Wilson makes no allusions to matter contained
in the manuscripts which had not been reproduced in
the pages of Prescott. He is careful, indeed,
to tell us very little of the contents of these works;
but he talks
about them with the most gratifying
candor, and in his choicest phraseology. He informs
us, that “Sarmiento’s History of the Peruvian
Incas altogether surpasses that of Dr. Johnson’s
Rasselas and the Happy Valley.” The history
of Dr. Johnson’s “Rasselas” is related,
we believe, by Boswell. The great moralist composed
his beautiful and philosophical, but somewhat gloomy
romance, in the evenings of a single week, in order
to obtain the means of defraying the expenses of his
mother’s funeral. The story is a touching
one; but Mr. Wilson’s comparison is so inapt,
that we cannot help suspecting him of having had in
his mind, not the history of Johnson’s “Rasselas,”
but Johnson’s history of Rasselas. We think
it rather hard, that, having, in general, such a limited
amount of meaning to express, Mr. Wilson should have
followed the maxim of Talleyrand, and employed language
chiefly as a means of concealing his thoughts.
Mr. Wilson nowhere asserts, in so many words, that
he has had access to manuscript authorities.
His mode of speaking of them, however, implies as
much, and he evidently intends that this inference
should be drawn by his readers. In a printed
note, addressed to his publishers, disclaiming any
intention of “assailing the memory of the dead,”—a
disclaimer which was not needed to suggest the reason
why his book, loaded with typographical blunders,
was hurried through the press,[A]—he “insists
on the lawyer’s privilege of sifting the evidence—a
labor which Mr. Prescott was incapable of performing,
from a physical infirmity”; and he undertakes
to prove that Mr. Prescott’s “books and
manuscripts were not reliable authorities.”