282 ROYA.L SOCIETY OF CANADA 



yearly income. î^or may a yoeman pad his doublet after the manner of 

 knightly dress, under penalty of fine. But the spirit of the time is too 

 splendid to be repressed. Trade with the continent and the far east has 

 bred elegance. Cunning artificers work in gold and silver and copper. 

 Linen comes from Flanders and Brabant. France sends her velvets and 

 Venice her embroideries. The further nations bring damasks and silks 

 and satins. Husbandry is dying. It is the age of the artificer. 



Splendour and richness, after all, are relative. There are degrees even 

 to the stars. And there is now passing a figure which catches every eye 

 and halts every step. Tall and commanding in form, broad of shoulder, 

 dignified and calm. His beard and hair are long and white like snow. 

 He wears a doublet of purple velvet, and inside and on the border is er- 

 mine like his beard. The doublet is laced up in front and the sleeves are 

 pufted and slashed to display a shirt of the finest lawn, and the lacing is 

 of silver and the fastenings are of gilt. His hat is made to match his 

 dress and sits upon his head as if a crown. His hose is puffed and slashed 

 like the sleeves of his doublet, and his stockings are of embroidered silk. 

 His shoes are broad in the toes and mark the new fashion coming in from 

 the land of France. Around his neck is a broad chain of brightest gold, 

 and about his waist is a girdle of silver from which hang a purse of velvet 

 and a dagger in a sheath of red. At his side is carried a jewelled sword, 

 a strange and foreign weapon. A servant walks behind, while at his side, 

 but a step backward, to signify a lesser degree, is a companion or attend- 

 ant. The passers-by do more than stare — the}^ follow him and whisper 

 among themselves. We hear them say, " It is he ; it is the admiral ; it 

 is he who has found the new lands." This man, then, is John Cabot, but 

 lately returned from his first voyage of discoveiy, and the companion at 

 his side is his barber and favourite, upon whom, out of the riches of his 

 new world, he has royally bestowed an island as a gift. 



It is a glorious thing to recognize a great event and to honour him 

 who contributes to its occurrence. But this glory is oftentimes a passing 

 glory. Columbus once sat at dinner with a king, and then he sat alone 

 in chains. The sun can give no security that the heavens will never 

 obscure its face, and there is no form of human glory that is permanent 

 and sure. The interesting figure before whom London is prostrating 

 itself to-day is soon to have his fame obscured for nearly four hundred 

 years and the curtain which will hide him is to be drawn by the hand of 

 his own son. 



The voyage of discovery we are now to consider was one said to have 

 been made by John Cabot sailing from Bristol, England, in May, 1497, 

 discovering land on the feast day of St. John the Baptist, June 24, and 

 returning to England early in August of the same year. Before we 

 engage in an attempt to describe this voyage and to disentangle threads 

 of truth from the skein of misapprehension, it may be profitable to inquire 



