for cloth, beads, or wire, and sometimes they were hungry to the borders of starvation. By the 29th of January, a little more than a month after leaving the Arabs, they had "fought twenty-four times! and had captured sixty-five door-like shields, which, in fights upon the river, the women raised, so that fortythree guns were of more avail than one hundred and fifty riflemen unprotected." "In these wild regions our mere presence excited the most furious passions of hate and murder."

February 3, 1877, Stanley writes in his Journal: "Livingstone called floating down the Lualaba a fool-hardy feat. So it has proved, and I pen these lines with half a feeling that they will never be read by any man; still, as we persist in floating down according to our destiny, I persist in writing, leaving events to an all-gracious Providence. Day and night we are stunned with the dreadful drumming which announces our arrival and presence in their nation. Either bank is equally powerful. To go from the right bank to the left is like jumping from the frying-pan into the fire. As we row down among the islands, between the savage countries on either side of us, it may well be said that we are 'running the gauntlet.'"-Vol. ii, pp. 280, 281.

February 6, "the river," which had for hundreds of miles held a northerly course, " for the first time deflected west." February 8, they heard for the first time the welcome name "Congo."

February 14, they beat off the "Bangala," the "Ashantees of the Livingstone River." A few days before they had "discovered four ancient Portuguese muskets, at the sight of which the people of the expedition raised a glad shout." It was an intimation of the sea. Musket shots now took the place of the whizzing of arrows and spears, but the weapons were old and the gunners awkward; they were no match for Sneider rifles, elephant guns, and explosive balls.

February 18, 1877. "For three days we have been permitted, through the mercy of God, to descend this great river uninterrupted by savage clamor or ferocity."

February 19. "Regarded each other as the fated victims of protracted famine or the rage of savages."

March 15. "The people no longer resist our advance. Trade has tamed their natural ferocity, and they no longer re

sent our approach like beasts of prey." Henceforth, falls and cataracts; canoes over falls and down plunging cataracts; canoes hauled over land around falls and cataracts; through forests and over mountains; Kalulu, the boy taken by Stanley to England, precipitated over a dangerous fall in a canoe and lost; and, worst of all, Frank Pococke, the young Englishman, fellow traveler over three fourths of a continent, drowned June 8, 1877, in the fool-hardy attempt to shoot a fall! All these fatalities Stanley chronicles with a dramatic pen. Abating something for exuberance of fancy and expression, his versatility as a describer is equal to his versatility as a leader or commander. The last pages of "Through the Dark Continent read like the concluding act of a tragedy. It is impossible to read them without tears. "Fatal June, 1877," writes Stanley: "The full story of the sufferings I have undergone cannot be written, but is locked up in a bosom that feels the misery into which I am plunged neck-deep. O, Frank! Frank! you are happy, my friend. Nothing can now harrow your mind or fatigue your body. You are at rest for ever and ever. Would that I were also!"

July 28. "The freshness and ardor of feeling with which I had set out from the Indian Ocean had by this time worn quite away. Fevers had sapped the frame, overmuch trouble had sapped the spirit, hunger had debilitated the body, anxiety preyed upon the mind. My people were groaning aloud; their sunken eyes and unfleshed bodies were a living reproach to me; their vigor was gone, though their fidelity was unquestionable; their knees were bent with weakness, and their backs were no longer rigid with the vigor of youth, life, strength, and devotion. Hollow-eyed, gaunt, sallow, unspeakably miserable in aspect, we yielded to imperious nature, and had but one thought only to trudge on for one look more at the blue ocean."-Vol. ii, p. 435.

July 31. "We received the good news that Embomma was only five days' journey from us." "As the object of the journey had now been attained, and the great river of Livingstone had been connected with the Congo of Tuckey, (1816,) I saw no reason to follow it further, or to expend the little remaining vitality we possessed in toiling through the last four cataracts." At sunset we lifted our brave boat, the 'Lady Alice,' and FOURTH SERIES, VOL. XXXII.-17

carried her to the summit of some rocks five hundred yards north of the fall. After circumnavigating Victoria and Tanganyika lakes, and floating down the Congo fourteen hundred miles, and after a journey of seven thousand miles over broad Africa and its waters, she was consigned to her resting-place above the Isangila Cataract, to bleach and rot to dust."

August 4 every thing useless was abandoned, and they began their last overland journey, "a wayworn, suffering, feeble column, nearly forty men sick with dysentery, ulcers, scurvythe victims of the latter disease steadily increasing." Only three days off from food!" "Next day, when morning was graying, we lifted our weakened limbs for another march. Up and down the desolate, sad land wound the poor hungry caravan; in melancholy and silent procession, voiceless as sphinxes, we felt our way down into a deep gully, and crawled up again and camped. It was night before all had arrived." They could go no farther, apparently. In this extremity Stanley resolved to send a letter to the coast, and three of his men volunteered to carry it. In two days an answer came from the residents of Boma, and with the answer, food for the starving expedition. They were saved, and the solution of the problem of the centuries was revealed to the civilized world.

Stanley and Cameron had each a similar experience as they approached the Atlantic coast. Stanley converts it into drama; Cameron tells the tale of suffering and deliverance in his usual matter-of-fact way.

"The marching powers of my men had gone from bad to worse, and I saw that some decisive step must be taken or the caravan would never reach the coast, now only one hundred and twenty-six geographical miles distant. Upward of twenty men complained of being unable to walk far or to carry any thing, swelled legs, stiff necks, aching backs, and empty stomachs being the universal cry." He resolved to throw away every thing, tent, boat, bed, every thing but books and instruments, and, with a few picked men, make his way to the coast, and send back relief for the remainder. After a few days of forced marches the forlorn hope came in sight of the sea, and, when utterly exhausted and worn out, he dispatched a note to Katombéle, and received as hearty a welcome from the residents as Stanley received from the merchants at Boma. Cameron,

nearly dead of scurvy, sent his men in a schooner to Zanzibar by way of Good Hope, and himself took passage for England.

Stanley accompanied his expedition, or the relics of it, back to Zanzibar, every-where lionized, at Embomma, at St. Paul de Loanda, at Cape Town, at Zanzibar, in England, and in America. It is with just pride that he records, in the Preface to his volumes, the honors showered upon him by every learned Geographical Society in Europe, and that his achievement was crowned by a unanimous vote of thanks by both Houses of the Congress of the United States, an "honor more precious than all the rest." Of the expedition one hundred and fourteen died; eighty-nine were returned to Zanzibar; fourteen were drowned; fifty-eight died in battle. Small-pox and dysentery were the two most destructive disorders.

On the 17th of November, 1874, the expedition took the "first bold step for the interior; on the 26th November, 1877, the relics of it went ashore at Zanzibar." How did Stanley part with his black followers? "Sweet and sad moments those of parting." "Through what strange vicissitudes of life had these men not followed me!" "What noble fidelity these un tutored souls had exhibited! The chiefs were those who had followed me to Ujiji in 1871." "For years to come there will be told in many homes in Zanzibar the great story of our jour ney, and the actors in it will be heroes with their kin. For me, too, they are heroes, those poor ignorant children of Africa, for, from the first deadly struggle in savage Ituru to the last staggering march into Boma, they rallied to my voice like veterans, and in the hour of need they never failed me." Stanley has unbounded faith in the future of the black man. He is (at this writing) again in Africa. What is his errand? He has told no one. Something he will doubtless accomplish, and African soil may yet become the resting-place of the mortal remains of the indefatigable traveler.

Present appearances afford just ground for hope that the nineteenth century will not close without adding to its numberless triumphs in science, art, discovery, wealth, and civilization, the thorough exploration of the entire continent of Africa, said by Malte-Brun to be the "last portion of the civilized world which awaits at the hands of Europeans the salutary yoke of legislation and culture." Savage Central Africa is being

brought to the knowledge of geographers, bit by bit, with a rapidity paralleled in our own West, so rapidly that we need not be ashamed of ignorance of the latest phase of African discovery if an intelligent Bostonian could innocently ask "in what State Montana is situated!" Let the remaining twenty years of the century be as fruitful in discovery as the last twenty, and but few of the squares made on the map by intersecting meridians and parallels will longer tantalize by their blank whiteness; lake coasts, mountains, and rivers will not longer be laid down from unreliable native and Arab information, the dotted lines of doubt will be replaced by the firm tracings of actual survey or personal inspection.

Railroads and telegraphs will intersect the lands. Slavery will be blotted out. Munsas, Mtesas, Mirambos, and Riongas will be civilized by the united influences of commerce and Christianity. The three great enemies to the progress of Christianity in Africa are slavery, rum, and gunpowder. Mohammedanism, with its slavery and polygamy, is but a slight advance on pure heathenism. To the Christian Africa is one of the most interesting portions of the globe to-day. Some of its tribes are quite advanced in civilization and the arts, and some are fearfully low and degraded. Arab slavers have cursed one side of the continent, and Portuguese the other; but slavery is coming to an end. Probably but few more costly exploring expeditions will be fitted or needed to settle the few geographical questions that still remain unsettled. Merchants and missionaries will gradually extend the area of geographical knowledge, and colonies may yet be projected on the borders of interior lakes and rivers, and the African, in the providence of God and the order of events, will yet emerge from childhood, and develop all the powers and capacities of the fully civilized

man.