"Reflections on the Coincidences of Christopher Columbus's 'Libro de Las Profecias' and the American Dream" by Delno C. West and August Kling in "Encounters" (Double Issue No. 5-6, pp. 22-24) For the past seven years, we have studied the intellectual and religious nature of Christopher Columbus, using as the centerpiece of that research the Admiral's eighty-four page collection of prophecies, the "Libro de las profecias." Often when one spends years translating a document and studying its meaning, one cannot help but ponder the meaning of the experience. This essay is meant simply to be our reflection upon a recently completed study. The man who signed his letters "Christ-Bearer-Admiral- Viceroy," using a flourish of both Greek and Latin letters and a mysterious acronym whose undisclosed meaning he took with him to the grave, was not content to be the Discoverer of the New World. In his own handwriting, he enclosed a cover letter to the "Libro de las profecias," written from Granada on September 13, 1501, in which he indicated his plan to "rrever y las poner en rrima en su lugar" (study and put into verse in an orderly sequence) a series of extracts from the Bible, an interpreted version of prophecies concerning Jerusalem. "Libro de las profecias" is a title given his notebook by later cataloguers. The incipit reads as follows: "Here begins the book, or handbook, of authorities, statements, opinions and prophecies on the subject of the recovery of the Holy City and Zion the Mountain of God, and the discovery and evangelization of the islands of the Indies and of all peoples and nations." The enclosed letter, addressed to the king and queen, extended the subject matter, or focused it, as a "rationale I have for the restoration (or renewal) of the House of God to the Holy Church." The first four pages of the "Libro de las profecias" explain very carefully that the prophecies are not to be construed only literally, but also figuratively which broadened the Admiral's horizons to include moral principles and visions of sublimest truth. Using the hermeneutical methods of Thomas Aquinas, John Gerson, St. Augustine, St. Isidore of Seville, and Nicholas of Lyra, Columbus established an undeniable legitimacy for his project. Reading the nearly three thousand postilles (marginal notes) which Columbus left in the pages of the surviving books he owned, it is easy to see that he was a student of the Bible and that he had the major themes of the "Libro de las profecias" in mind as early as 1481. Eight different hands compiled the "Libro de las profecias," but the main texts were copied by Father Gaspar Gorricio and Ferdinand Colon (who was then a teenager). The manuscript was written under the Admiral's direction, and he added marginal notes to it. Concurrently, he was compiling his "Book of Privileges," using the same method of employing scribes to do the work. From the correspondence between Christopher Columbus and Father Gorricio, there can be no doubt that Columbus was in control of the project. The history of the "Libro de las profecias" is that of a document which lay almost unstudied and untranslated for five hundred years. The Admiral died without completing it, but within the surviving pages one can see the Discoverer's vision and meaning of the New World. Not the geographic meaning, but the meaning for history and for the human race--the meaning of the New World in the divine plan for the ages. It is within this document that one finds the seed for the Columbian symbolism later exploited by the United States. As mentioned above, the themes of the manuscript existed long before they were compiled. It is not coincidental that, three centuries after the first voyage of Columbus, the Discoverer should be heralded as "a new Moses" who "through trackless seas, an unknown flight explores, and hails a new Canaan's promised shores." It is not a coincidence, but it is a fascinating story that links the Discoverer to the bard of American Independence, the president of Yale College who was sometimes called the "Pope of New England," Timothy Dwight. Timothy Dwight never read the "Libro de las profecias," but the themes in that document permeated the Admiral's life and writings causing early American settlers to perceive him as a symbol of the American dream. Dwight was the first to write an American national epic, "Conquest of Canaan." That work, written in 1785 and dedicated to George Washington, refers to Columbus as the "new Moses" journeying to a "new Canaan," and that same work contains the first complete expression of the political, social, economic, and technological doctrines known secularly as "manifest destiny," and theologically as "American post- millennialism." Dwight chose, as Columbus intended, to form a poetic vision of versified Biblical prophecies. In one grand prophetic preview, Dwight projected into the future the fall of Jerusalem, the missionary expansion of the Church, the Discovery of America, and the settlement of the new land "for the enjoyment of religion," the "freedom and glory of the north American states," the blessings of freedom to "every land o'erflow," the scientific, economic and technological progress of the New World, the achievement of world peace with freedom nd human dignity, the evangelization of the world, the beginning of the millennium, and finally, the end of the world. This versification, in a heroic epic of the prophecies concerning the mountain, the city, the house, and the good news of God was exactly what Christopher Columbus had said he wanted to do. It might have remained a coincidence that Timothy Dwight versified the vision of Christopher Columbus, but there is the further fascinating story of Dwight's student at Yale, Joel Barlow. Barlow wrote hundreds of pages of blank verse creating the second and third epic poems in American history titled, "The Vision of Columbus," and "The Columbiad." This was no coincidence because "Columbian," "Columbia," and "Columbiad" had for several decades been code words for the so-called "Sons of Freedom," a Yale College student organization dedicated to the War for Independence. It may have been the eagerness of the "Columbians" at Yale to get at the vision of Columbus that motivated the Minister Plenipotentiary of the United States in Madrid in the winter of 1825-26 to invite Washington Irving to come quickly to translate "a work then in the press, edited by Don Martin Fernandez de Navarette ... containing a collection of documents relative to the voyages of Columbus, among which were many of a highly important nature, recently discovered." Why did the U.S. Ambassador consider this translation to be "peculiarly desirable," and to offer such generous subsidies to the translator (who ended up by producing a highly readable, popular classic rather than translations of documents)? This commission to Irving was the beginning of Hispanic studies in the Unites States. Coincidental linkages existed in the early republic between Columbus, Dwight, Barlow, and Irving, not to mention Dwight's grandfather, the president of the College of New Jersey (Princeton), who constantly wrote about the millennial aspects of the New World, or George Washington to whom many of these works were dedicated and who read them. (Indeed, Irving's two great biographies of Columbus and Washington present a Romulus and Remus for American beginnings.) It is not a coincidence, nor an indication of any necessary linkage, that both Columbus and his distant admirers conceived the idea of versifying the prophetic theology in the form of universal history by means of an epic poem. Each knew, and understood its implications, the fact that the material he wished to communicate was in essence only motivational, pure vision, and on the broadest possible scale. In every age and climate, such material has been expressed in the form of national epics--Homer, Virgil, Dante, Camoes, Milton, or epics of illiterate Norsemen, the sacred verse of aboriginal Pacific Islanders, and primitive peoples everywhere. All these epic writers were utterly serious in their intent to produce motivational literature on the grandest scale, and they chose the same ideal format. It is not especially important that Columbus never actually versified the prophecies, and that the epics of Dwight and Barlow have been all but forgotten. The themes they addressed have become the powerful anthems of the American people. It is vision that summons men and nations into being and gives them identity and purpose. Even when people cease to believe the vision, they continue to live it out: thinking, working, fighting, and dreaming in ways they have ceased to understand. Columbus, the "Christ-bearer," was the first American millennialist, or more poetically, the first "Columbian." All coincidences, yet no coincidences. Here we are dealing with visions, wisps of misty, swirling nebula. Virtually not substance, yet more powerful than ships and armaments, more influential than parliaments and thrones. Not mere sight, but vision. Not mere history, but prophetic vision. We are very late making available to the American public the documentary centerpiece of the great Discoverer (Columbus believed the "Libro de las profecias" to be the summary of his life and activities). We wish we could have made it in time for the "Columbians" at Yale for the Tricentennial. They would have enjoyed it immensely.