general England ever saw." Statesmen and princes hung upon his words, and even upon his nod; and lovely women languished for his smiles. When he died, full of years and honours, and everything of good which a grateful nation has to bestow, his body lay in state at Chelsea Hospital. It was visited by the high and mighty ones of the Empire, and was contemplated with an almost superstitious awe. It was finally borne with regal pomp, through streets draped in mourning, and thronged by a countless multitude, to its final resting-place in the crypt of the noblest of English cathedrals. The funeral rites were solemnized amid the tears of a nation, and formed an event in that nation's history. The obsequies of "the Iron Duke" took place on the 18th of November, 1852. In less than three months from that date his friend Colonel Talbot also went the way of all flesh. But by how different a road! His life, though it had by no means been spent in vain, had had little to commend it to the emulation or envy of mankind. Its most vigorous season had been passed amid the solitude of the Canadian forest, and in its decline it had become the prey of selfishness and neglect. Colonel Talbot died in a small room in the house of a man who had once been his servant. He must have tasted the bitterness of death many times before he finally entered into his rest. Neither wife, child, nor relative ministered to his wants. But scant ceremony was vouchsafed to his remains. His body, instead of lying in state, was deposited in a barn, and was finally attended to its last obscure resting-place in a little Canadian village by a handful of friends and acquaintances. The weather was piercingly cold, and we may be sure that the obsequies were not unnecessarily prolonged. Surely the force of antithesis could not much farther go!