The _Marco Polo_, _Red Jacket_, and _Donald McKay_ ended their days in the Quebec lumber trade, and the _Lightning_ disappeared from the Shipping List in 1866. The _Champion of the Seas_ foundered while homeward bound round Cape Horn in 1877. The _James Baines_ was burnt at Liverpool in 1858, and her wreck was converted into the old landing stage for Atlantic steamship passengers, few of whom probably realized that they were walking over the remains of one of the grandest ships that ever sailed the sea. Of the British-built clippers, the first _Lord of the Isles_ built in 1854 was burnt in 1862. The second of the name, built in 1864 by Robert Steele, of Greenock, was sold in France and became known as the _Paul Albert_. The _Spindrift_ and _Serica_ were both wrecked in 1869. The _Forward Ho_ was lost in 1881. The _Sir Launcelot_ was sold to a merchant of Bombay and sailed for many years between that port and Mauritius, and was finally wrecked in 1895. The _Cutty Sark_ was sold to a merchant in Lisbon in 1895. The _Chinaman_ was sunk by a steamer on the coast of China in 1880. The _Windhover_ was wrecked on the coast of Australia in 1884. The _Falcon_ was sold in Australia, her name being changed to the _Sophia Branilla_. She was wrecked on the coast of Java in 1871. The _Thermopylæ_ is now a schoolship at the mouth of the Tagus. The _Yang-tze_ was lost in 1872. The first _Guinevere_, built by Robert Steele, in 1862, was lost in 1866, while the second _Guinevere_, built by Randolph Elder & Co., in 1868, was sold in Norway. The _Ariel_ sailed for Melbourne and was never heard from. The _Taitsing_ was wrecked on the coast of Zanzibar in 1883. The _Titania_ is the only one of all the old clipper ships that can now be traced as in active service. She is owned by Madame Maresca, of Castellamare, and sails under the flag of Italy, usually between European and South American ports. A few years ago she arrived at New York, and I was much interested in going on board of her, as I had known the ship and her captain many years before in China. She appeared so little changed that it was difficult to realize that nearly forty years had passed away since I last stood upon her deck one bright June morning at the Pagoda Anchorage, bidding Captain Burgoyne good-bye as he was getting under way bound for London with new teas. Her spars had been somewhat reduced and her rig changed to a barque, but the beautiful India teak used in the construction of her hull, decks, and bulwarks, with the polished brasswork of her rails, skylights, bells, and capstans, blinking cheerfully in the autumn sunshine, seemed to have paid little heed to the flight and ravages of time.