ily
said. When Raleigh returned after his last miserable failure in May
1617, the monarch spared no sneer and no reproof to the pirate of the
seas. Of course, the King was right; there was no mine of diamonds, no
golden city. But the immense treasures that haunted Raleigh's dreams
were more real than reality; they existed in the future; he looked far
ahead, and our sympathies to-day, and our gratitude also, are all for
the noble and valorous knight who sailed out into the West searching for
an unknown El Dorado.

It is not so easy to defend the character of our hero against those who,
like Hume, have objected to his methods in the prosecution of his
designs. To Hume, as to many others before and since, Raleigh seemed
"extremely defective either in solid understanding, or morals, or both."
The excellent historians of the eighteenth century could not make up
their minds whether he was a hero or an impostor. Did he believe in the
Guiana mine, or was he, through all those strenuous years, hoodwinking
the world? Had he any purpose, save to plunder the Spaniard? Perhaps his
own family doubted his sanity, for his son Walter, when he charged the
Spanish settlement at San Thome, pointed to the house of the little
colony and shouted to his men: "Come on, this is the true mine, and none
but fools would look for any other!" Accusations of bad faith, of
factious behaviour, of disloyal intrigue, were brought up against Sir
Walter over and over again during the "day of his tempestuous life,
drawn on into an evening" of ignominy and blood. These charges were the
"inmost and soul-piercing wounds" of which he spoke, still "aching,"
still "uncured."

There is no need to recount to you the incidents of his life, but I may
remind you that after the failure of the latest expedition to South
America the Privy Council, under pressure from the Spanish Ambassador,
gave orders to Sir Lewis Stukeley to bring the body of Sir Walter
Raleigh speedily to London. This was the culmination of his fall, since,
three days after Raleigh landed at Plymouth, the King had assured Spain
that "not all those who have given security for Raleigh can save him
from the gallows." His examination followed, and the publication of the
_Apology for the Voyage to Guiana_. The trial dragged on, while James
I., in a manner almost inconceivable, allowed himself to be hurried and
bullied by the insolent tyrant Philip II. If the English King did not
make haste to execute Rale