few years later, an old unprincipled adventurer, with the help of a set of lawless fellows like himself, to steal her from her father. But a noble, devout, young Englishman, by name John Rolfe, an amiable enthusiast, became her protector. Daily, hourly, nay in his very sleep, amid the forests of Virginia had he heard a voice which seemed to bid him convert the Indian maiden to Christianity, and then marry her. And when the Holy Spirit asked him reproachfully (such are his own expressions) why he lived? The answer was given, “To lead the blind into the right way.” He struggled for long against his inclination for the young pagan princess as against a dangerous temptation, but finally yielded to the admonishing voice. He won her confidence, and became her teacher, and she before long publicly received Christian baptism in the little church at Jamestown, the roof of which was supported by rough pine-tree stems from her father's forests, and where the font was a hollowed fir-tree. Here, also, a short time afterwards was she married to Rolfe, stammering before the altar her marriage vows according to the rites of the English church. All this, it is said, was done with the consent of the father and relatives, her uncle, the chief Opachisco himself, conducting her to the altar.
The marriage was universally approved, even by the English, and in the year 1616 Rolfe sailed to England with his Indian wife, who, under the name of Lady Rebecca, was presented at Court, and was universally admired for her beauty and child-like naïveté. She was most admirable both as a wife and a young mother. But the young couple did not long enjoy their happiness; just as she was about preparing to return to America, she fell a victim to the English climate at the age of twenty-two. She left one son, who became the ancestral head of many generations, who are to this day proud of tracing their descent from the Indian Pocahontas; and I do not wonder at it. Her memory remains in singular beauty
