the last, on his head alone must rest the blame. Live nobly, and Heaven itself will preserve thy fame. But to do this, a man must live conscientiously, manfully, virtuously. He must have that sheet anchor of the soul, faith in Providence; and then, if all his earthly affairs should have stamped upon them the word "failure," he himself will remain calm and unmoved amidst the wreck of all things. Let him do and suffer as his Maker wills, and victory must be his. That our achievements may be worthy, let us not fret unduly over the future. For this, indeed, if we be men, and acquit ourselves as men, we have no leisure. Nothing is more enervating than to discount the chances of success; and if all men had done this, England, in this nineteenth century, would have been little in advance of the Middle Ages. That which we have to do, let us do with a will, and in that spirit of content and reverence of which George Herbert sang so sweetly. To know ourselves is a great thing; but to be for ever turning ourselves inside out is to enfeeble the mind and paralyze the action. Let us in to the fight with energy and vigour, and whatever be the nature of our aims, in their pursuit let us be all that is manly and sincere. Let us have no double-dealing, no swearing falsely, like Ananias and Sapphira, as to the price of the field. So surely as we use the devil's scales towards others, so surely must we come short in the balances of God. With truth and right for watch-words, then, if, as mortals, we cannot command success, we shall have done more, we shall have deserved it. Of course the higher a man's aims the stronger must the animosities be which he will enkindle. But let him remember that the praise of one just man outweighs the misrepresentation and abuse of a thousand enemies. On no account must he fall into the despondent condition of Dion, who, when apprised that Calippus watched all opportunities to take away his life, replied, "that he had rather die than live in such misery, that he must continually stand upon his guard, not only against his enemies, but his friends also." Nothing great or lasting is achieved without sacrifice, and it is sometimes more difficult for a man's friends complacently to regard his success than it is for his enemies. But if his friends fall away from him he must remain firm. Their applause is not as necessary to him as the approval of his own conscience. That is his guide, and his ultimate court of appeal. Infinite in number, and as various in character, are our human ambitions. These goals of success are, indeed, coextensive with the race itself, for what man indulges precisely the same desires and day-dreams as his brother? Many of these ambitions are of a mean and vulgar type, and we may without scruple or lack of generosity rejoice when they result in failure. The time will come-though it is still far distant-when even the ambition of the warrior will be stripped of its false glory and grandeur, and he himself stand exposed as one of the greatest enemies of humanity. He has too long already retarded the march of mankind; and not until the sword has been returned to its scabbard, nevermore to be unsheathed, will men feel that they are brothers, and join hand to hand in the great victory of right over might. Meanwhile, we gaze through the vista of past ages, and almost insensibly breathe a wish to follow after and emulate the spirit of a veritably great man. Who is this hero? It is not Cæsar, as, after the defeat of Scipio and the capture of Pompey, he enters Rome amid unparalleled honours and congratulations; it is not Mahomet, after he has overrun the various kingdoms of Asia and Africa, and forced his new religion upon the conquered; it is not Archimedes, as he rushes through the streets of Syracuse, shouting, "Eureka! Eureka!" it is not Nelson, as, in the flush of victory, he breathes his last, exclaiming, "Thank God, I have done my duty!" it is not Columbus, when, after seasons of disappointment and deeds of cruelty, he sights the far-off land, and his eyes swim with exultant tears; it is not Wellington, as he cries, "Up, Guards, and at them!" and forthwith wins the great battle of all modern campaigns. No, it is none of these. But the scene is yonder at Rome, where stands one heavily bound with chains. His only crime has been that of living too purely and unselfishly. He has been before his judges, and is now led forth to execution. Here is human nature risen to its highest glory. Paul, formerly called Saul of Tarsus, a persecutor of the saints, dies for his faith, after a warfare that has embraced within it all trials, difficulties, and dangers. To the spectators of his martyrdom, here was a great and ignominious failure. The world, however, has long since crowned him victor, and the friendless martyr now occupies almost the largest space in its history, while his influence, ever-widening, will extend to the very latest generations of the human race. G. BARNETT SMITH. TOILING BY TANGANYIKA. BY JOSEPH THOMSON. II. AND now commenced a piece of work which, for hardships, difficulties, and dangers, is perhaps unparalleled in the history of African travelling. It certainly far surpassed anything we had as yet met, though we had had our share of hard work. One hundred and eighty miles (as the crow flies) of mountains were traversed. No gentle undulations and rounded valleys, but savage peaks and precipices alternating with deep, gloomy ravines and glens. Ridge after ridge had to be crossed, rising with precipitous sides, and requiring hands and knees in the ascent. Now we would go up three thousand feet to descend as far--repeating the process perhaps three times a day, and never getting half a mile of moderately good walking ground. The streams falling into the lake ran, of course, at right angles to our line of route, and thus cut the mountains into innumerable deep gorges. The rainy season had now set in with all the fury characteristic of the tropics, and the very floodgates of heaven seemed to have opened full to deluge the land. Yet through the remorseless downpour we must march hour after hour and day after day. The huge rolling thunderclouds overspread the heights, and the thunder with appalling roar echoed and re-echoed on every side. Now it was above us—the lightning flashes ever and anon splitting the clouds open with their awful power. Then we were in the midst of it, with view circumscribed by the enveloping darkness, while the ground shook and we perfectly cringed with awe as the gloom was for an instant dispelled with blinding effect. Pressing upward we would next stand triumphant upon some savage peak and look down on the incessant war of elements. And with what a wild exultant excitement did we watch the grand scene beneath! The rugged mountains and valleys, with the murky clouds rolling in dense masses around them, the swollen headlong torrents adding their monotonous roar to the ever-renewed thunder-peals, while the resistless wind whistled through the trees, bending them like straws. Yet this savage and awe-inspiring grandeur was not without its relief. Here the sun, darting his rays through some rift in the overhanging cloud-bank, would glorify as with a golden crown some conspicuous peak, or smile upon some pleasant glade; and there XXII-13 glimpses of Tanganyika would be obtained thousands of feet beneath, its waters in the distance seeming as calm and undisturbed as the face of a sleeping child. Amid such experiences, then, did we toil over our rugged way, plunging time after time through raging mountain streams, in frequent danger of being swept by the whirling waters to destruction; yet our only thought was onward. Our difficulties by no means dismayed us. We gloried in these awful scenes and the magnificent works of nature around us. As for myself, I felt as if, free and unfettered, I once more roamed on my own Scotch hills. I revelled in the sense of deliverance from the soul-wearing troubles of a large caravan, which, like an incubus, stifles all a traveller's pleasure; for when he would prefer knocking about unfettered in this place and in that, in search of something new or fascinating, he must ever keep on beaten tracks, always suspicious, always watchful of his men, while endeavouring with as much minuteness as possible to comprehend his surroundings; but now, with only thirty good men and true, I seemed to have no anxieties or cares. So light of heart did this feeling make me that I was tempted sometimes to execute a good Scotch dance for the benefit of the natives, in order to reduce the effervescence of my spirits. | But to resume the thread of my narrative. On leaving Iendwe we crossed the river Lofu and entered the chieftainship of Itawa. Ulungu now lay behind us. The people of Itawa were exceedingly interesting in their appearance and habits. They have remarkably well-made figures, and faces which were frequently very pretty, with small features, straight, well-shaped noses, and thin lips, not at all like the negroes we usually see in England; and then their colour!—such a pleasant warm brown as made dress appear quite superfluous. It was one of my most pleasant entertainments to hold an evening reception seated on my camp-stool. You might then see a pair of negro Graces advance timidly, though giggling at the sight of the strange white man. I would, of course, courteously ask them to come forward, and smile on them with a paternal air, whereupon they would nudge each other and run away a bit to return again bursting with laughter. Then I would inspire them with awe by a sight of my white skin as I turned up the sleeve of my shirt. flashed upon me that I was a prisoner and cut off from my men. My presence in the village was evidently unknown. For, on my These people shave their hair back from appearance among them, every voice was the brow, round which they tie a band of silent, and the once excited multitude seemed beads with much tastefulness and effect. to have become paralyzed with fear. I was They wear enormous cylinders of wood in supposed to be a ghost. Seeing this, I rethe lobes of their ears, and copper pins stick-covered my presence of mind, and, striking ing through their lips. Their dress consists almost entirely of a flap of skin behind. The absence of this would be considered highly improper, although, to me, its sole use appears to be as a protective from damp when sitting on the wet ground. an attitude like Hamlet's ghost, I moved of me. Not to chronicle in extenso our movements through Itawa, let me simply describe our reception at Pamlilo, the village of the chief. On the fifth day of our march from Iendwe I was, as usual, considerably in front of my men, who with their loads were not able to walk as fast as myself. The sky threatened a storm, which made me hasten to reach Pamlilo. On approaching the village nobody was to be seen, the natives being either I immediately dispatched messengers to out in the fields or in their houses out of the demand why they had received the great rain. The stockade presented a rather unin- white man in this inhospitable manner, and viting appearance, being ornamented with a made them shake with fear at the threats I few hundred human skulls in all conditions, gave free vent to. They were soon brought from the freshly stuck up head to the bleached to their senses, and apologised humbly, and cranium, and all apparently snapping their explained the matter. I then, to show jaws at the thought of a new companion as the there was no ill-will, went into the village, wind wheeled them backwards and forwards. though the inhabitants had evidently not got However, the rain was falling fast, and there over the feeling of awe with which I had was no use being squeamish. So into the vil-inspired them, and prudently kept clear lage I marched unnoticed, and finding out a hut with a broad overhanging eave I took refuge out of sight, waiting till my men came forward, in order that I might appear with appropriate pomp. I had been thus ensconced nearly ten minutes, when suddenly the stillness of the village was broken by a loud peculiar shout. This was almost immediately taken up from every quarter of the village, until every stone seemed to yell out the strange cry. Drums added to the uproar, while women screamed, and the men were seen to hurry towards the gates, shouting and brandishing their spears. I was very much astonished at this; but, supposing it was simply the fashionable mode of receiving a caravan, I remained still, expecting my men every minute. However, the uproar continued without abatement, and my men did not appear. Thinking there must be something wrong, I emerged from my cover. To my surprise I found the gates closed, and the stockade and crow's-nests manned by an excited multitude brandishing their spears at some apparent enemy outside. It instantly As Mlilo, the chief, was a potentate of some note, I gave him a handsome present. I was received for that purpose under the eaves of a huge granary, the roof of which was so large in proportion to the house that it looked like an umbrella with a short and thick handle. The reception was very imposing-indeed, it was the only case I had seen in which some warlike display and discipline was observed. I was, however, treated very scurvily, and got no return present. In fact, it was only with difficulty I got a guide. Leaving Pamlilo, with much show of indignation, we continued our march. Our route led us still over the mountains, which are very poorly populated, owing to the dearth of water in the dry season, and the absence of ground fit for cultivation. On the third day from Pamlilo we approached the boundary of Itawa. This fact was abundantly indicated to us by the absence of inhabitants, the deserted villages and fields which, for a distance of forty miles, marked |