is hopes, his
victory. We can almost fancy that we are sharing in his triumph when
at last he sails on that mission whose end he saw but in a glass
darkly, victorious over the intrigues of courtiers, the avarice of
princes, and the blindness of mere worldly wisdom. Our hearts once
more sink as the cowardice of his followers threatens to undo all, and
the prize that had seemed won is again in danger. We feel all the
intensity of suspense as night after night land is promised and the
morning brings it not. When at length the goal is reached, we can
almost trick ourselves with the belief that we have a part in that
glory, and are of that generation by whom and for whom that mighty
work was wrought.

No such halo of romantic splendor surrounds the first voyage of
Sebastian Cabot. A meager extract from an old Bristol record: "In the
year 1497, June 24, on St. John's Day, was Newfoundland found by
Bristol men in a ship called the _Matthew_"--a few dry statements
such as might be found in the note-book of any intelligent sea
captain--these are all the traces of the first English voyage which
reached the New World. We read in an account, probably published under
the eye of Cabot himself, that on June 24, at five o'clock in the
morning, he discovered that land which no man before that time had
attempted, and named it Prima Vista. An adjacent island was called St.
John, in commemoration of the day. A few statements about the habits
of the natives and the character of the soil and the fisheries make up
the whole story. We may, perhaps, infer that Cabot meant this as a
report on the fitness of the place for trade and fishing, knowing that
these were the points which would excite most interest in England. One
entry from the privy purse expenses of Henry VII, "10L to hym that
found the new isle," is the only other record that remains to us.
Columbus was received in solemn state by the sovereigns of Aragon and
Castile, and was welcomed by a crowd greater than the streets of
Barcelona could hold. Cabot was paid L10. The dramatic splendor of the
one reception, the prosaic mercantile character of the other,
represent the different tempers in which Spain and England approached
the task of American discovery.

But tho our own annals give us so scanty an account of the reception
of the two Cabots, the want is to some extent supplied from a foreign
source. Letters are extant from the Venetian ambassador, in which he
describes with just pr