“I have just sent to my brother an abridgment of ‘Columbus’ to be published immediately, as I find some paltry fellow is pirating an abridgment.  Thus every line of life has its depredation.  ’There be land rats and water rats, land pirates and water pirates,—­I mean thieves,’ as old Shylock says.  I feel vexed at this shabby attempt to purloin this work from me, it having really cost me more toil and trouble than all my other productions, and being one that I trusted would keep me current with my countrymen; but we are making rapid advances in literature in America, and have already attained many of the literary vices and diseases of the old countries of Europe.  We swarm with reviewers, though we have scarce original works sufficient for them to alight and prey upon, and we closely imitate all the worst tricks of the trade and of the craft in England.  Our literature, before long, will be like some of those premature and aspiring whipsters, who become old men before they are young ones, and fancy they prove their manhood by their profligacy and their diseases.”

But the work had an immediate, continued, and deserved success.  It was critically contrasted with Robertson’s account of Columbus, and it is open to the charge of too much rhetorical color here and there, and it is at times too diffuse; but its substantial accuracy is not questioned, and the glow of the narrative springs legitimately from the romance of the theme.  Irving understood, what our later historians have fully appreciated, the advantage of vivid individual portraiture in historical narrative.  His conception of the character and mission of Columbus is largely outlined, but firmly and most carefully executed, and is one of the noblest in literature.  I cannot think it idealized, though it required a poetic sensibility to enter into sympathy with the magnificent dreamer, who was regarded by his own generation as the fool of an idea.  A more prosaic treatment would have utterly failed to represent that mind, which existed from boyhood in an ideal world, and, amid frustrated hopes, shattered plans, and ignoble returns for his sacrifices, could always rebuild its glowing projects and conquer obloquy and death itself with immortal anticipations.

Towards the close of his residence in Spain, Irving received unexpectedly the appointment of Secretary of Legation to the Court of St. James, at which Louis McLane was American Minister; and after some hesitation, and upon the urgency of his friends, he accepted it.  He was in the thick of literary projects.  One of these was the History of the Conquest of Mexico, which he afterwards surrendered to Mr. Prescott, and another was the “Life of Washington,” which was to wait many years for fulfillment.  His natural diffidence and his reluctance to a routine life made him shrink from the diplomatic appointment; but once engaged in it, and launched again in London society, he was reconciled to the situation.