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From an Island,

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Torpedo, England on the,
"The Return of the Dove," by G. F.

Watts, R.A.,.

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Country-House on the Rhine, The, 22, 95, 142, Lettice Lisle, .
207, 337, 400, 479, 534, 599, 657, 723,



578 Yeoman Service,
Youth and Maidenhood,


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Phineas Finn,.

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Led on -past childhood's easy grassy ways,
Past youth's glad scaling of a flower-fringed

Past plans and failures of less sanguine days,
Past graves where I had thought to stay and


Oh friends! if loved ones love me to the last,

And deem earth sadder for that I am gone, Think not too much of the dim track I've pass'd, Think still of me as but led on-led on!


In the band of noble workers

Seems no place for such as I:
They have faith where I have yearning,
They can teach where I but sigh,
They can point the road distinctly
Where for me the shadows lie.

Lofty purpose, high endeavour,

These are not ordained for me;
Wayside flower may strive its utmost,
It can ne'er become a tree.
Yet a child may laugh to gather,
And a sick man smile to see.


Not my wtll, gracious Lord,

Not my blind will and wayward be fulfill'd!
I dare not say that bowing to Thy word

All my heart's wishes are subdued and still'd.
My will might crave some boon by Thee denied,

Led on-
- but how? I stumble as I go;
Led on-
- but whither? clouds seem all I see: Covet the praise that ministers to pride;
My trust, a purpose higher than I know;
My hope a goal yet undescried by me.

Shrink back from taking up a needed cross,
And shun the furnace to retain the dross.
Not my will, O my Lord,
No- be Thy name adored:

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Just now a hand is linked in mine,
Just now thought flashes far and free,
I joy in everything I see,

I call this God-made world divine!

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DEATH OF LAMARTINE. -France has lost a
considerable name in Lamartine, who died on
Monday, but little more. He was a fair poet of
the second order, as good a historian as a man
can be who is accurate and inaccurate by chance,
and as able a politician as a splendid orator, half
Canning, half Shiel, of perfect uprightness,
immovable courage, and total incapacity for
business could be expected to become. It was
his fortune to have one supreme chance, such as
only a poet orator at the head of a government
could have used, and he used it splendidly. In
February, 1847, seventy thousand Parisians,
half mad with Socialist hopes, demanded that
the Red Flag should become the standard of
France, and threatened Lamartine with death if
he refused. With their muskets pointing at him
as he stood unguarded, he refused point-blank,
and made his one remembered speech.
tricolour has made the round of Europe with
your liberties and your glory; the red flag has
made the tour of the Champ de Mars, through
the blood of the people."
That bit of pep-
pered tongue," as Charles Reade has it, soothed
the leopard for the hour, and France and Eng-
land escaped the war of propagandism which
would have followed the adoption of the Red
symbol. Latterly Lamartine's fancy for living
en grand seigneur kept him in pecuniary diffi-
culties, which a State annuity of £1,000 a year
but partially relieved, as in France it is consid-
ered discreditable not to pay just debts.
Spectator, 6 March.


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these four men pronounced flatly against
the final precipice. Indeed, they had to
be urged by degrees along the sharp and
jagged ridge the most savage, in my
opinion, on the whole Matterhorn
led up to its base. The only man of the
four who never uttered the word "impos-
sible," was Johann Joseph Bennen, the
bravest of brave guides, who now lies in
the graveyard of Ernan, in the higher val-
ley of the Rhône. We were not only de-
feated by the Matterhorn, but were pelted
down its crags by pitiless hail.


SINCE the publication, seven years ago, of a little tract entitled " Mountaineering in 1861," I have contributed hardly anything to the literature of the Alps. I have gone to them every year, and found among them refuge and recovery from the work and the worry, which acts with far deadlier corrosion on the brain than real work, of London. Herein consisted the fascination of the Alps for me: they appealed at once On the day subsequent to this defeat, to thought and feeling, offered their prob- while crossing the Cimes Blanches with lems to the one and their grandeurs to the Bennen, we halted to have a last look at other, while conferring upon the body the the mountain. Previous to quitting Breuil soundness and the purity necessary to the I had proposed to him to make another athealthful exercise of both. There is, how-tempt. He was averse to it, and my habit ever, a natural end to Alpine discipline, was never to persuade him. On the Cimes and henceforth mine will probably be to me Blanches I turned to him and used these a memory. The last piece of work requir- words: "I leave Breuil dissatisfied with ing performance on my part was executed what we have done. We ought never to last summer; and, unless temptation of un- have quitted the Matterhorn without getusual strength assail me, this must be my ting upon yonder arête." The ridge to last considerable climb. With soberness which Bennen's attention was then directed of mind, but without any approach to re- certainly seemed practicable, and it led gret, I take my leave of the higher Alpine straight to the summit. There was moisture peaks. in the strong man's eyes as he replied, falling into the patois which he employed when his feelings were stirred, "What could I do, sir? not one of them would accompany me." It was the accurate truth.

And this is why it has occurred to me to throw together these odds and ends of Alpine experience into a kind of cairn to the memory of a life well loved. Previous to the year 1860, I knew the Matterhorn as others did, merely as a mountain wonder, for up to that time no human foot had ever been placed on its repellant crags. It is but right to state that the man who first really examined the Matterhorn, in company with a celebrated guide, and who came to the conclusion that it was assailable if not accessible, was Mr. Vaughan Hawkins. It was at his invitation that in August 1860 I took part in the earliest assault upon this formidable peak. We halted midway, stopped less by difficulty, though that was great, than by want of time. In 1862, I made a more determined attack upon the mountain, but was forced to recoil from its final precipice; for time, the great reducer of Alpine difficulties, was not sufficiently at my command. On that occasion I was accompanied by two Swiss guides and two Italian porters. Three of

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To reach the point where we halted in 1862 one particularly formidable precipice had to be scaled. It had also to be descended on our return, and to get down would be much more hazardous than to climb. At the top of the precipice we therefore fastened a rope, and by it reached in succession the bottom. This rope had been specially manufactured for the Matterhorn by Mr. Good, of King William Street, City, to whom I had been recommended by his landlord, Appold, the famous mechanician. In the summer of 1865, the early part of which was particularly favourable to the attempt, one of the Italians (Carrel dit le Bersaglier) who accompanied me in 1862, and who proved himself on that occasion a very able cragsman, again tried his fortune on the Matterhorn. He reached my rope, and found it bleached to snowy whiteness. It had been exposed for three years to all

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