which Columbus discovered; hence the company which administered the
affairs of Hindostan was distinguished as the East India Company.
Hence, too, the spiritual welfare of the Great Khan engaged the
attention of both Columbus and Cabot, whereas, in fact, this potentate
(if, indeed, he existed) was secluded from their disinterested zeal by
a vast continent, and thousands of miles of ocean. These
misconceptions were based on a strange underestimate of the
circumference of the world, but they add, if possible, to our wonder
at the courage of Columbus. Sailing day after day into the unknown,
with tiny ships and malcontent crews, he never faltered in his
purpose, and never lost faith in his theory. When he landed at
Guanahana (Watling's Island) he saw in the Bahamas the Golden
Cyclades, and bethought him how he might convey to the Great Khan the
letters of his Royal patron. He saw in the west coast of Juana the
mainland of Cathay, and in the waters which wash the shores of Cuba he
sought patiently, but vainly, for the Golden Chersonese and the
storied land of the Ganges.

John Cabot inherited both the truth and the error of Columbus. His
career is one of those irritating mysteries which baffle the most
patient inquiry. Born at Genoa, and naturalized in 1476 at Venice
after fifteen years' residence, he seems to have settled in England
eight or nine years before the close of the fifteenth century. Already
his life had been an adventurous one. We catch glimpses of him at long
intervals: now at Mecca, pushing curious inquiries into the region
whence came the spice caravans; now in Spain, under the spell,
perhaps, of the novel speculations of Toscanelli and Columbus; now
plying his trade as a maker of charts in Bristol or on the Continent.
The confusion between John Cabot and his son Sebastian adds to the
uncertainty. Those who impute to Sebastian Cabot a cuckoo-like