gotten-forgotten because that Greece drew forth Cytherea from the flashing foam of the Ægean, and in her image created new forms of beauty, and made it a law among men that the short and proudly wreathed lip should stand for the sign and the main condition of loveliness through all generations to come. Yet still there lives on the race of those who were beautiful in the fashion of the elder world; and Christian girls of Coptic blood will look on you with the sad, serious gaze, and kiss your charitable hand with the big pouting lips of the very Sphinx.

Laugh and mock if you will at the worship of stone idols; but mark ye this, ye breakers of images, that in one regard the stone idol bears awful semblance of Deity-unchangefulness in the midst of change-the same seeming will and intent for ever and ever inexorable! Upon ancient dynasties of Ethiopian and Egyptian kings-upon Greek and Roman, upon Arab and Ottoman conquerors-upon Napoleon dreaming of an Eastern empire-upon battle and pestilence upon the ceaseless misery of the Egyptian race— upon keen-eyed travelers-Herodotus yesterday, and Warburton to-day-upon all and more this unworldly Sphinx has watched, and watched like a Providence with the same earnest eyes, and the same sad, tranquil mien. And we, we shall die, and Islam will wither away; and the Englishman, straining far over to hold his loved India, will plant a firm foot on the banks of the Nile and sit in the seats of the Faithful, and still that sleepless rock will lie watching and watching the works of the new busy race, with those same sad, earnest eyes, and the same tranquil mien everlasting. You dare not mock the Sphinx.

AFRICA

Finding Livingstone

By HENRY M. STANLEY

E push on rapidly, lest the news of our coming might reach the people of Bunder Ujiji before we come in sight, and are ready for them. We halt at a little brook, then ascend the long slope of a naked ridge, the very last of the myriads we have crossed. This alone prevents us from seeing the lake (Tanganyika) in all its vastness. We arrive at the summit, travel across and arrive at its western rim, and-pause, reader-the port of Ujiji is below us, embowered in the palms-only five hundred yards from us. At this grand moment we do not think of the hundreds of miles we have marched, of the hundreds of hills that we have ascended and descended, of the many forests we have traversed, of the jungles and thickets that annoyed us, of the fervid salt plains that blistered our feet, of the hot suns that scorched us, nor of the dangers and difficulties now happily surmounted.

"Ay wallah,

"One, two,

Unfurl the flags and load your guns!"' ay wallah bana!" respond the men eagerly. three-fire!" A volley from nearly fifty guns roars like a salute from a battery of artillery. "Now, Kirangozi (guide), hold the white man's flag up high, and let the Zanzibar flag bring up the rear. And you must keep close together, and keep firing until we halt in the market-place, or before the white man's house. You have said to me often that you could smell the fish of the Tanganyika I

can smell the fish of the Tanganyika now. There are fish, and beer, and a long rest waiting for you. MARCH!"'

Before we had gone a hundred yards, our repeated volleys had the effect desired. We had awakened Ujiji to the knowledge that a caravan was coming, and the people were rushing up in hundreds to meet us. The mere sight of the flags informed every one immediately that we were a caravan; but the American flag borne aloft by gigantic Asmani (one of the porters or carriers), whose face was one vast smile on this day, rather staggered them at first. ever, many of the people who now approached us remembered the flag. They had seen it float above the American consulate, and from the mast-head of many a ship in the harbor of Zanzibar, and they were soon heard welcoming the beautiful flag with cries of "Bindera, Kisungu!”—a white man's flag. "Bindera Merikani!"—the American flag.

Then we were surrounded by them; by Wajiji, Wanyamwezi, Wangwana, Warundi, Waguhha, Wamanyema, and Arabs, and were almost deafened with the shouts of

Yambo, yambo, bana! Yambo bana! Yambo bana!'"' To all and each of my men the welcome was given. We were now about three hundred yards from the village of Ujiji, and the crowds are dense about me. Suddenly I hear a voice on my right say, "Good-morning, sir!" Startled at hearing this greeting in the midst of such a crowd of black people, I turn sharply around in search of the man, and see him at my side, with the blackest of faces, but animated and joyous-a man dressed in a long white shirt, with a turban of American sheeting around his woolly head, and I ask, "Who the mischief are you?" "I am Susi, the servant of Dr. Livingstone," said he, smiling, and showing a gleaming row of teeth. "What! Is Dr. Livingstone here?" "Yes, sir." "In this village?" "Yes, sir."

"Are you sure?" "Sure, sure, sir. Why, I leave him just now.' "Good-morning, sir," said another voice. "Hallo," said I, "is this another one?" "Yes, sir." "Well, what is your name?" "My name is Chumah, sir.”

"And is the doctor well?" "Not very well, sir." "Where has he been so long?" so long?" "In Manyuema.' "Now, you Susi, run and tell the doctor I am coming. "Yes, sir ;" and off he darted like a madman.

Soon Susi came running back, and asked me my name; he told the doctor I was coming, but the doctor was too surprised to believe him, and when the doctor asked him my name, Susi was rather staggered.

But, during Susi's absence, the news had been conveyed to the doctor that it was surely a white man that was coming, whose guns were firing and whose flag could be seen; and the great Arab magnates of Ujiji-Mohammed bin Sali, Sayd bin Majid, Abid bin Suliman, Mohammed bin Gharib, and others had gathered together before the doctor's house, and the doctor had come out from his veranda to discuss the matter and await my arrival.

In the meantime, the head of the expedition had halted, and the Kirangozi was out of the ranks, holding his flag aloft, and Selim (the interpreter) said to me: "I see the doctor, sir. Oh, what an old man! He has got a white beard." And I-what would I not have given for a bit of friendly wilderness, where, unseen, I might vent my joy in some mad freak, such as idiotically biting my hand, turning a somersault, or slashing at trees, in order to allay those excited feelings that were well-nigh uncontrollable. My heart beats fast, but I must not let my face betray my emotions, lest it should detract from the dignity of a white man appearing under such extraordinary circumstances.

So I did that which I thought was the most dignified. I pushed back the crowds, and passing from the rear, walked. down a living avenue of people, until I came in front of the semicircle of Arabs, in the front of which stood the white. man with the gray beard. As I advanced slowly toward him I noticed that he was pale, looked wearied, wore a bluish cap with a faded gold band round it, had on a redsleeved waistcoat, and a pair of gray tweed trousers. would have run to him, only I was a coward in the presence of such a mob-would have embraced him, only, he being

I

an Englishman, I did not know how he would receive me; so I did what cowardice and false pride suggested was the best thing-walked deliberately to him, took off my hat, and said: "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?" "Yes," said he, with a kind smile, lifting his hat slightly. I replace my hat on my head, and he puts on his cap, and we both grasp hands, and then I say aloud: "I thank God, doctor, I have been permitted to see you." He answered: "I feel thankful that I am here to welcome you." I turn to the Arabs, take off my hat to them in response to the saluting chorus of "Yambos " I receive, and the doctor introduces them to me by name. Then, oblivious of the crowds, oblivious of the men who shared with me my dangers, we-Livingstone and I turn our faces toward his tembe (or hut). He points to the veranda, or rather mud platform under the broad, overhanging eaves; he points to his own particular seat, which I see his age and experience in Africa has suggested—namely, a straw mat, with a goatskin over it, and another skin nailed against the wall to protect his back from contact with the cold mud. I protest against taking this seat, which so much more befits him than me, but the doctor will not yield—I must take it.

We are seated, the doctor and I, with our backs to the wall. The Arabs take seats on our left. More than a thousand natives are in our front, filling the whole square densely, indulging their curiosity, and discussing the fact of two white men meeting at Ujiji-one just come from Manuyema, in the west; the other from Unyanembe in the east.