GENERAL BOOTH.

[TO THE EDITOR OF TEE " SPECTATOR." J

SIR,—The verses, " The Enthusiast," were some time back cut from the columns of the Spectator. They appear particularly applicable to the memory of the noble-hearted man, General Booth, who has just passed away, so I venture to enclose

"THE ENTHUSIAST.

His face is glorious with a beam

Unborrowed from our earthly skies; The radiance of a heavenly dream Is on his brow and in his eyes ; And in his breast the unconquered heart That fails not when his brethren fail, That sees his earliest friends depart, One after one, and doth not quail.

One after one they go, the bold Companions of his dwindling band ; For under stormy skies and cold Their march is through a barren land. And some their earlier faith deride, (For man is man and seeks his own,) Till the last straggler leaves his side, And the worn pilgrim walks alone.

Leopard and leopard-hearted men About his perilous pathway prowl;

At even from his mountain den Comes the grey wolf's resounding howl. The heavy hauberk's shining mail

Is on his weary shoulders laid,

A helmet shields his forehead pale, Gleams in his hand the naked blade.

But o'er the desert's quivering lines He sees the city from afar ;

By day a polished pearl it shines,

By night it glitters like a star. He doth not feel his bleeding feet ; And when his nightly tent is spread, The pavement of the golden street Re-echoes to his dreaming tread. Till his thin, shadowed temples tell

His livelong journey well-nigh done, And 'neath the rock-hewn citadel

He drags himself at set of sun. There, while he lingers, half in doubt, The bells a joyous chime begin, And lo ! three shining ones come out, And lead the weary traveller in.

EDWARD SYDNEY TYLEB."