conceives the son to have been
wronged by the ascription to John Cabot of any portion of the merit of
the discovery of America. Not only would he suppress the elder Cabot, but
he covers the well-meaning Hakluyt with opprobrium and undermines his
character by insinuations, much as a criminal lawyer might be supposed to
do to an adverse witness in a jury trial. Valuable as the work is, there
is a singular heat pervading it, fatal to the true historic spirit.
Hakluyt is the pioneer of the literature of English discovery and
adventure--at once the recorder and inspirer of noble effort. He is more
than a translator; he spared no pains nor expense to obtain from the lips
of seamen their own versions of their voyages, and, if discrepancies are
met with in a collection so voluminous, it is not surprising and need not
be ascribed to a set purpose; for Hakluyt's sole object in life seems
to have been to record all he knew or could ascertain of the maritime
achievements of the age.

Biddle's book marks an epoch in the controversy. In truth, he seems to
be the first who gave minute study to the original authorities and broke
away from the tradition of Newfoundland. He fixed the landfall on the
coast of Labrador; and Humboldt and Kohl added the weight of their great
learning to his theory. Harrisse, who in his _John and Sebastian Cabot_
had written in favor of Cape Breton, has, in his latest book, _The
Discovery of America_, gone back to Labrador as his faith in the
celebrated map of 1544 gradually waned and his esteem for the character
of Sebastian Cabot faded away. Such changes of view, not only in this
but in other matters, render Mr. Harrisse's books somewhat confusing,
although the student of American history can never be sufficiently
thankful for his untiring research.

The discovery in Germany by von Martius in 1843 of an engraved
_mappemonde_ bearing date of 1544, and purporting to be issued under the
authority of Sebastian Cabot, soon caused a general current of opinion in
favor of a landfall in Cape Breton. The map is unique and is now in the
National Library at Paris. It bears no name of publisher nor place of
publication. Around it for forty years controversy has waxed warm. Kohl
does not accept the map as authentic; D'Avezac, on the contrary, gives it
full credence. The tide of opinion has set of late in favor of it, and
in consequence in favor of the Cape Breton landfall, because it bears,
plainly inscribed upon that