From Chatham’s pleasant mountains, From Aldershot’s bare plain, Where the British flag floats proudly, And the lion shakes his mane. From barracks and from messroom Resounds the bugle’s notes, Calling to arms, to cross the seas And cut some heathen throats. What tho’ from every pulpit We daily Christ proclaim And bend before the Prince of Peace, And worship in His name, In vain in adoration We bow before the throne, _These heathens are possessed of lands_ That we must make our own. Blow, gently blow, ye breezes, Let the war smoke upward curl While bathed in blood and glory Stands forth our Premier Earl; But weep, oh! weep for England, And bow the head in shame, For sullied is her honour, And tarnished is her name. J. C. A. _The Bath Herald._ May, 1879. [Illustration] The Imperial Institute Ode. After tremendous efforts to “puff” the so-called “Imperial Institute” scheme into public favour, and when the subscriptions were coming in but slowly, the ceremony of laying the foundation stone was gone through, with all the solemn mummery customary on such occasions. An Ode was necessary, and one was accordingly written by Mr. _Lewis_ Morris, and set to music by Sir Arthur Sullivan. The Ode contained the usual commonplaces, expressed in language more than usually dull and meaningless, as the following extracts will suffice to show:―― I. With soaring voice and solemn music sing, High to Heaven’s gate let pealing trumpets ring! To-day our hands consolidate The Empire of a thousand years. Delusive hopes, distracting fears, Have passed, and left her great, For Britain, Britain, we our jubilant anthems raise, Uplift your voices all, worthy is she of praise! III. No more we seek our Realm’s increase By War’s red rapine, but by white-winged Peace; To-day we seek to bind in one, Till all our Britain’s work be done―― Through wider knowledge closer grown, As each fair sister by the rest is known, And mutual Commerce, mighty to efface The envious bars of Time and Place, Deep-pulsing from a common heart And through a common speech expressed―― From North to South, from East to West, Our great World Empire’s every part; A universal Britain strong To raise up Right and beat down Wrong―― Let this thing be! who shall our Realm divide? Ever we stand together, Kinsmen, side by side! V.