prosperous state--
renowned and honoured without, well governed and high toned within. Dr
Lane felt and acknowledged that much of this success was due to the
example and to the vigour of these head boys. Power, when he left, was
beloved and distinguished; Walter and Kenrick trod in his steps. To the
boundless delight of the school they too carried off in one year the
highest open scholarship at each University; and when they also left,
they had been as successful as Power, and were, if possible, even more
universally beloved. Whalley carried on for another year the high
tradition, and, in due time, little Charlie also attained the head place
in the school, and so behaved as to identify his name and Walter's with
some of its happiest and wisest institutions for many years.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

L'ENVOI.

Is not to-day enough? why do I peer
Into the darkness of the day to come?
Is not to-morrow e'en as yesterday?

Relics of Shelley.

May I not leave them here? Where could I leave them better than on this
marble threshold of a promising boyhood; still happy and noble in the
freshness of their feelings, the brightness of their hopes, the
enthusiasm of their thoughts? Need I say a word of after-life, with the
fading of its earlier visions, and the coldness and hardness of its
ways? I should like to linger with them here; to shake hands here in
farewell, and leave them as the boys I knew. They are living still, and
are happy and highly honoured in the world. In their case "the boy has
been father to the man;" and the reader who has understood and
sympathised with them in their early life will not ask me to draw aside
the curtain, even for a moment, to show them as they appeared when a few
more summers had seen them grow to the full stature of their manhood.

I said that they were living still; but it is not so with all of them.

Charlie Evson alone, of the little band who have been amongst the number
of our friends at Saint Winifred's--alone, though the youngest of them
all--is now dead. He died a violent death. Filled with a missionary
spirit, and desirous, like Edward Irving, of "something more high and
heroical in religion than this age affecteth," he joined a mission to
one of the great groups of Pacific Islands. And there, many a time, in
the evening, after a day spent in teaching the natives how to plant
their fields and build their houses, he would gather them round him in
the twilight,