ony, though it was twice
deserted, was in the end successful, and in it was born the first child,
Virginia Dare by name, of that Anglo-Saxon race which has since conquered a
continent, and surpassed, in the nonage of its republican sway, the
maturity of mighty nations.

In 1618, induced by the promises of Raleigh to put the English crown in
possession of a gold mine which he asserted, and probably believed he had
discovered in Guiana, James, whose avidity always conquered his
resentments, and who, like Faustus, would have sold his soul--had he had
one to sell--for gold, released him, and, granting him, as he asserted, an
unconditional pardon--but, as James and his counselors maintain, one
conditional on fresh discoveries, sent him out at the head of twelve armed
vessels.

What follows is obscure; but it appears that Raleigh, failing to discover
the mines, attacked and plundered the little town of St. Thomas, which the
Spaniards had built on the territories of Guiana, which Raleigh had
acquired three-and-twenty years before for the English crown, and which
James, with his wonted pusillanimity, had allowed the Spaniards to occupy,
without so much as a remonstrance.

This conduct of Raleigh must be admitted unjustifiable, as Spain and
England were then in a state of profound peace; and the plea that truce or
peace with Spain never crossed the line, though popular in England in those
days of Spanish aggression and Romish intolerance, cannot for a moment
stand the test either of reason or of law.

Falling into suspicion with his comrades, Sir Walter was brought home in
irons, and delivered into the hands of the pitiless and rancorous king, who
resolved to destroy him--yet, dreading to awaken popular indignation by
delivering him up to Spain, caused to revive the ancient sentence, which
had never been set aside by a formal pardon, and cruelly and unjustly
executed him on that spot, so consecrated by the blood of noble patriots
and holy martyrs, the dark and gory scaffold of Tower Hill.

And here, in conclusion, I can do no better than to quote from an anonymous
writer in a recent English magazine, the following brief tribute to his
high qualities, and sad doom, accompanied by his last exquisite letter to
his wife.

"His mind was indeed of no common order. With him, the wonders of earth and
the dispensations of heaven were alike welcome; his discoveries at sea, his
adventures abroad, his attacks on the colonies of Spain,