of the land, as he proved by his discovery of untried passes in the higher Alps, and he had no mercy for pursy followers.  I have often said of this life-long student and philosophical head that he had in him the making of a great military captain.  He would not have been opposed to the profession of arms if he had been captured early for the service, notwithstanding his abomination of bloodshed.  He had a high, calm courage, was unperturbed in a dubious position, and would confidently take the way out of it which he conceived to be the better.  We have not to deplore that he was diverted from the ways of a soldier, though England, as the country has been learning of late, cannot boast of many in uniform who have capacity for leadership.  His work in literature will be reviewed by his lieutenant of Tramps, one of the ablest of writers!—­ [Frederic W. Maitland.]—­The memory of it remains with us, as being the profoundest and the most sober criticism we have had in our time.  The only sting in it was an inoffensive humorous irony that now and then stole out for a roll over, like a furry cub, or the occasional ripple on a lake in grey weather.  We have nothing left that is like it.

One might easily fall into the pit of panegyric by an enumeration of his qualities, personal and literary.  It would not be out of harmony with the temper and characteristics of a mind so equable.  He, the equable, whether in condemnation or eulogy.  Our loss of such a man is great, for work was in his brain, and the hand was active till close upon the time when his breathing ceased.  The loss to his friends can be replaced only by an imagination that conjures him up beside them.  That will be no task to those who have known him well enough to see his view of things as they are, and revive his expression of it.  With them he will live despite the word farewell.

Correspondencefrom the seat of war in Italy

LETTERS WRITTEN TO THE MORNING POST FROM THE SEAT OF WAR IN ITALY FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT

Ferrara, June 22, 1866.

Before this letter reaches London the guns will have awakened both the echo of the old river Po and the classical Mincio.  The whole of the troops, about 110,000 men, with which Cialdini intends to force the passage of the first-named river are already massed along the right bank of the Po, anxiously waiting that the last hour of to-morrow should strike, and that the order for action should be given.  The telegraph will have already informed your readers that, according to the intimation sent by General Lamarmora on Tuesday evening to the Austrian headquarters, the three days fixed by the general’s message before beginning hostilities will expire at twelve p.m. of the 23rd of June.