it, and a rich
delicacy of expression, which is called out in him by the first sight of
strange lands and things and people.

We have only space to tell something of the conclusion of his voyage
north. In latitude sixty-three degrees, he fell in with a barrier of
ice, which he coasted for thirteen days without finding an opening. The
very sight of an iceberg was new to all his crew; and the ropes and
shrouds, though it was midsummer, becoming compassed with ice,--

"The people began to fall sick and faint-hearted--whereupon, very
orderly, and with good discretion, they entreated me to regard the
safety of mine own life, as well as the preservation of theirs; and that
I should not, through over-boldness, leave their widows and fatherless
children to give me bitter curses.

"Whereupon, seeking counsel of God, it pleased His Divine Majesty to move
my heart to prosecute that which I hope shall be to His glory and to the
contentation of every Christian mind."

He had two vessels--one of some burden, the other a pinnace of thirty
tons. The result of the counsel which he had sought was, that he made
over his own large vessel to such as wished to return, and himself,
"thinking it better to die with honour than to return with infamy," went
on with such volunteers as would follow him, in a poor leaky cutter, up
the sea now in commemoration of that adventure called Davis' Strait. He
ascended four degrees north of the furthest known point, among storms
and icebergs, when the long days and twilight nights alone saved him
from being destroyed, and, coasting back along the American shore, he
discovered Hudson Strait, supposed then to be the long desired entrance
into the Pacific. This exploit drew the attention of Walsingham, and by
him Davis was presented to Burleigh, "who was also pleased to show him
great encouragement." If either these statesmen or Elizabeth had been
twenty years younger, his name would have filled a larger space in
history than a small corner of the map of the world; but, if he was
employed at all in the last years of the century, no _vates sacer_ has
been found to celebrate his work, and no clew is left to guide us. He
disappears; a cloud falls over him. He is known to have commanded
trading vessels in the Eastern seas, and to have returned five times
from India. But the details are all lost, and accident has only parted
the clouds for a moment to show us the mournful setting with which he,
too, went down up