About this time an ambassador sent to the King of Portugal by the sovereign of Benin, a territory between the Gold Coast and Congo, happened to speak about a greater power in Africa than his master, to whom indeed his master was but the vassal.

This instantly set the Portuguese king thinking about Prester John, of whom legends spoke as a Christian king ruling over a Christian nation somewhere in what was vaguely called the Indies; and the search after whom is, in maritime discovery, what the alchemist's pursuit after the philosopher's stone was in chemistry.

The king concluded that this "greater power" must be Prester John; and accordingly Bartholomew Diaz and two other captains were sent out on further discovery.

They did not find Prester John, but made their way southwards along a thousand and fifty miles of new coast, as far as a cape which, from experience, they called Cape Stormy, but which their master, seeing in its discovery an omen of better things, renamed as the Cape of Good Hope.
BARTHOLOMEW COLUMBUS.
It is a fact of great historical interest, and a singular link between African and American discovery, that Bartholomew Columbus, brother of Christopher, was engaged in this voyage.

The authority for this important statement is Las Casas, who says that he found, in a book belonging to Christopher Columbus, being one of the works of Cardinal Aliaco, a note "in Bartholomew Colon's handwriting," (which he knew well, having several of the letters and papers concerning the expedition in his own possession), which note gives a short account, in bad Latin, of the voyage, mentions the degree of latitude of the Cape, and concludes with the words "in quibus omnibus interfui." PASSAGE IN THE "LUSIADAS" In fiction, too, this voyage of Bartholomew Diaz was very notable, as it presented an occasion for the writing of one of the most celebrated passages in modern poetry, a passage not easily to be surpassed for its majesty and tenderness, and for a beauty which even those tiresome allusions to the classics, that give a faded air to so much of the poetry of the sixteenth century, cannot seriously disfigure nor obscure.
It is to be found in the Lusiadas of Camoens, and indicates the culminating point of Portuguese discovery in Africa, as celebrated by the national poet.
Just as the mariners approach the Cape, a cloud rises, darkens the air, and then discloses a monstrous giant, with deep-set, caverned eyes, of rugged countenance, and pallid earthy colour, vast as that statue of Apollo, the colossal wonder of the world.