New-York tribune., 1897-07-11
death before the conquerlng greatness Of the


human SOUL
For here, not yet three weeks ago. In tnese
commonplace closing days Of this commonplace
nineteenth century comes record OF a deed thht
sets the blood Astounding and the nerves a-thrii
as much as ever rush Of Lancelot down the
shining lists at Camclot British ship was
stormstruck in the Indian Ocean. For SIX days
she was at the mercy Of the hurricane Iheh
she was hurled upon a reef. Lifeboats were
launched, only to go down In the black nell or
waters with all on board. Day after day' n,sh'
after night, the storm ragged, urabating. The
hapless survivors clung to the strainng, break
ing wreck, starving perlshing beneath the fufy
of the elements. One after another was swept
off. to drown or to fall prey to the waiting
sharks: and that fate seemed Inevitable Tor
them ALL Thus thirteen days OF horror passed,
counted off slowly. with such agony as no words
can tell And then came the day Of the Queens
Jubilee, remembered faithfully amid the ter
rors of the storm and threatening death For
those were English men and women on the
wreck. At home. in peace and happiness.
brothers and sisters were applauding the pag-
cant of the ages. and making the golden sum-
mer air all tremulous with joyous cries ana
singing of God Save the Queen But was not
that death-rcef Of SOcotra likewise British
soil? Or were they less British in their hearts
than the myrads thronged around st. Paurs!
SO amid the bellowings Of the Unsuitable storm.
looking Death squarely In the face with that
proud contempt OF him which only Immortality
can feel, they all Joined hands, turned hearts
and voices England-ward, and with what might
be for all and was for some their dying breath,
thcv sang God Save the Oueen"'
There was the climax Of the Jubilee, supreme
and unapproachablc The many-voiced choir
and laundering organ at st. Paul's. the roar OF
cannon and the louder roar Of millions OF loyal
voices. all may die in silence in the coming
stretch of years But those twOscOre weak and
ulavering voices, crying in the watery wilder
ness of storm-swept Indian seas, will live In
deathless echoes while there Is an ear to hear
or n heart to feel For there was no impulse OF
surrounding multitudes no inspiration OF I'M
posing pageants and the community of joy;
there was no military discipline, as on the
famous Birkenhead. none Of the fierce enthu-
slasm Of war; as at Balaklava or OH the banks
of the Shangani. They were isolated from all
the world and crushed with famine. woe. and
threatening death. But they had in their hearts
the unouenchablc love of country and in their
souls the spirit that can tire torture and time
Such passions live when all else pcrishes, ana
such deeds as theirs add to the lengthenng
chain Of timc-hung gems which girds humanity
about with beauty and proves our human
nature is indeed divine. The cheers In Apias
harbor the anthem rising from SocotraS fatal
reef. are pnans Of victory Of hope over fear
manhood over matter, life over death. What
ever other voices say the age Of chivalry Is
gone, they thunder back their refutation OF the
libel on humanity. Whatever other noises rise
and fall in fi,ful tumult through the wearied
world. their "echoes roll from soul to SOUL and.
grow forever and forever"