explanation, and the words, which fell from me last evening at the
general meeting, in eulogizing his valuable services, may prove
satisfactory. Rely upon it, that his merits will never be forgotten
by my associates and myself.

I have the honour to be, Sir,

Your very faithful servant,

(Signed) RODERICK MURCHISON,

President of the Royal Geographical Society.

P.S. This letter shall be printed in the Proceedings of the
Society.

. . .

I replied thus:--

TO SIR RODERICK MURCHISON,

President of the Royal Geographical Society.

27 Arundel Street, Strand, 18th November, 1862.

SIR,

It was with much satisfaction that I received your letter of
the 11th instant, acknowledging the appreciation by yourself and the
Council of the Royal Geographical Society, of the merits of my
lamented son in the Burke and Wills Exploring Expedition in
Australia. That he, and he alone, was the only one who had the
least pretension to the title of geographer, is manifest;
--therefore it is not strange that Dr. Mueller and my friends in
Australia should feel somewhat annoyed in the matter of the Medal.

I am not surprised that it should have so happened under the
circumstances. The motto 'Sic vos non vobis', would be appropriate
for him in memoriam. The clothes, for the want of which he died, so
amply provided by himself, were worn by others; the land discovered
has been called exclusively by another name;--the Gold Medal should
follow.

Still I am grateful for your well-expressed remarks at the meeting
of the 10th instant, and for this written testimonial of the 11th,
from yourself and the Council.

I have the honour to be,

Sir Roderick,

Your obedient and humble servant,

WILLIAM WILLS,

Father of the late Explorer.

. . .

Several poetical tributes in honour of the adventurous dead
were published in Victoria. I select one which appeared in the
Melbourne Herald, on the 1st of December, 1861.

THE LOST EXPLORERS.

'Tis but a little lapse of time
Since they passed from out our sight;
Their hearts with hope were buoyant,
And each face with gladness bright;
And many were the fervent prayers
That in safety they might go,
Through a hidden land to the distant strand
Where ocean billows flow.

Theirs was no gay adventure
In some softly pleasant place:
They left home's quiet sanctitude
To meet a hostile race;
To carve a passage through the land,