of Mr. Stanley's portly volume. A petticoated "My name is Stanley !" I answered. matter of the beard. Stanley himself, in describing the first sight of him, says, “I noticed he was pale, looked wearied, had a grey beard ;" but in the accompanying illustration, as also in others of the numerous pictorial chroniclings, such as "Our levee at Magala, Urundi," and still more unmistakeably in "Dr. Livingstone at work on his Journal," there is the smoothshaved chin, in notable contrast to a pair of bearded Arabs who look in upon him. Here is the account of this bit of pencil-work in Central Africa: "We arrived at Ujiji from our tour of discovery, north of the Tanganika, December 13th (1871), and from this date the Doctor commenced writing his letters to his numerous friends, and to copy into his mammoth Letts' Diary, from his field books, the valuable information he had acquired during his years of travel south and west of the Tanganika. I sketched him while sitting in his shirt-sleeves on the verandah, with his Letts's Diary on his knee; and the likeness on the other page (563,) is an admirable portrait of 'Ah, yes! sit down; I have important busi- him, because the artist who assisted me has, ness on hand for you." After throwing over his shoulders his robede-chambre, Mr. Bennett asked, "Where do you think Livingstone is?" "I really do not know, sir." "Do you think he is alive?" "He may be, and he may not be !" I answered. “Well, I think he is alive, and that he can be found, and I am going to send you to find him ;" and so the matter is settled. Mr. Stanley does not conceal the fact that this "cool order to go to Central Africa to search for a man whom I, in common with almost all other men, believed to be dead," looked something very much of a wild-goose chase. But Mr. Bennett's authority to draw on him for £1,000 at a time, till Livingstone was found, settled the matter. "The old man may be in want: take enough with you to help him, should he require it. Do wn.. o think best—BUT FIND a the aged and venerable aspect of the traveller meets us again and again. Selim comes back to Stanley as he approaches Ujiji, and tells him: "I see the Doctor, Sir. Oh, what an old man! He has got a white beard." There is indeed some confusion between pen and pencil in this same with an intuitive eye, seen the defects in my sketch; and by this I am enabled to restore him to the reader's view exactly as I saw him, as he pondered on what he had witnessed during his long marches." Between Selim's "white beard," Stanley's grey beard," and Stanley and his artist-withthe-intuitive-eyes no beard," there is some discrepancy, which suggests somewhat of book manufacture, so far at least as the prolific pictorial department is concerned. If one but think of it indeed, unless Mr. Stanley had carried into Central Africa his friend with the "intuitive eye," it is not easy to see how, just at the time when, in the valley of the Loajeri, for example, and when, as he says, "the quinine which I had taken in the morning seemed to affect every crevice of my brain," he was planting a successful shot behind the shoulder of a fine buffalo cow, he at the same time accomplished the spirited picture of himself, Livingstone, the buffalo cow, and the fine theatrical ravine in which they are posed. Or again, just as he is scared out of his wits by a huge elephant, with nothing but "a pea-shooter loaded with treacherous sawdust cartridges" in his hand; and moreover while congratulating himself that the "Tembo," or big elephant, has not pounded him to a jelly, he says, " a wasp darted fiercely at me and planted its sting in my neck, and for that afternoon my anticipated pleasures were dispelled." These, accordingly, are the circumstances under which he made the charming study on p. 580, of himself, the "colossal monster, the incarnation of might of the African world, with his large, broad ears held out like studding sails ;" and the young rascal Kalulu "flying as soon as he had witnessed the awful Colossus in such close vicinage." The truth is, such a picture as this is all very well for a child's story book; but that forest, elephant, Kalulu and Stanley finely attitudinising, and all else were drawn by our friend with "the intuitive eye," out of the depths of his inner consciousness, with such hints as the African adventurer might give him, is obvious at a glance. The "bush" in which the elephant stands so composedly was probably sketched in the vicinity of Hampstead Heath. It does not look much more tropical! The "old man with the white beard" attracted our eye when we first opened the volume. Doubtless hardships, privation, and African fever have told on the indomitable, lonely man, who has for long years battled with the mystery of the great lakes which are the perennial feeders of the Nile; but reckoning by years, we have the best of reasons for saying that Dr. David Livingstone is a long way still from old age. Thirty-four years ago we remember him well, a bright, quiet, clever youth, busily engaged in the laboratory of Professor Graham, of University College, London. The Professor, himself a Glasgow man, was interested in the thoughtful, eager, dark-eyed youth; and then, and in at least one subsequent year, he continued to prosecute his practical studies under the great chemist whose statue has been erected during the past year, alongside that of James Watt, in his native city. How time does run by with us all. When the quietest and most staid of mortals bethinks him of the circle of thirty-five years ago, the chances are that he has to hunt them up in fancy in every corner of the wide world. But this hunting up of Livingstone in the centre of Africa-not in fancy, but literally—is certainly one of the achievements worthy of a red-letter day in the calendar of 1872. At Zanzibar Mr. Stanley met Dr. Kirk, and in answer to his inquiry, "Where is Dr. Livingstone do you think now?" received the comforting reply: "Well, really, you know that is very difficult to answer. He may be dead; there is nothing positive whereon we can base sufficient reliance. Of one thing I am sure, nobody has heard anything definite of him for over two Among the illustrations are plates of native arms, implements, pipes, &c., groups of natives that look as if they had been photographed from nature; a fine, genuine-like head of Susi, the servant of Livingstone; with specimens of pottery, illustrations of native architecture, native idols, &c., all of which are interesting and valuable. Even the very magnificent portrait of the "proprietor of the New York Herald," with hair in elegant curl, and waxed moustache done up to the last degree of barberous perfectibility, is doubtless truthful; and the gold snuffbox, with the V. R. of its Royal donor in brilliants on the black ground of the tailpiece, is a no less appropriate finale. But the "attack on Mirambo," with "the Stars and Stripes" planted in the foreground; "the muti-years;" and then Mr. Stanley reports some ny on the Gombe river," or—not to needlessly enlarge the list-His Sable Majesty, King Manyara, rolling on the ground and rubbing his stomach, while Stanley stands over him with the bottle of concentrated ammonia from which His Majesty has just been physicked ;-such illustrations of a book of "Travels, Adventures and Discoveries in Central Africa," make one look with some incredulity on the accompanying maps of "Eastern Central Africa, shewing the routes and discoveries of Henry M. Stanley whilst in search of Dr. Livingstone, 18711872." more of the British Consul's talk; which, if he had any idea of its being reported in the preface to such a sequel, he would have certainly kept to himself. According to him Livingstone is "not quite an angel,” one who hates to have anyone with him; who if Burton, Grant, Baker, or Stanley himself were known to be nearing him, would "put a hundred miles of swamp in a very short time between him and them." Mr. Stanley says Dr. Kirk very kindly promised him all the assistance in his power; but he drily adds, "But I cannot recollect, neither do I find a trace of it in my journal, that he assisted me in any way." It is not easy, we suspect, to be a friend of Livingstone and also of Dr. Kirk. Some others of Mr. Stanley's studies at Zanzibar are tempting, such as his sketch of "poor, dear Bishop Tozer, Missionary Bishop of Central Africa, ineffably happy in his crimson robe of office, and in the queerest of all head-dresses, stalking through the streets of Zanzibar, or haggling over the price of a tin pot at a tinker's stall." But we must not follow the example of the Bishop of Central Africa, and stick fast on this island outpost; though with a volume of 700 pages, the most we can do is to glean a few characteristic episodes from the traveller's experiences and adventures. Here is a piece of race-portraiture, sketched by the pen of an American among the woollyhaired negroes of Africa, worth reproducing: "The Wahumba, so far as I have seen them, are a fine and well formed race. The men are positively handsome; tall, with small heads, the posterior part of which project considerably. One will look in vain for a thick lip or a flat nose amongst them; on the contrary, the mouth is exceedingly well cut, delicately small; the nose is that of the Greeks, and so universal | was the peculiar feature that I at once named them the Greeks of Africa. Their lower limbs have not the heaviness of the Wagogo and other tribes, but are long and shapely, clean as those of an antelope. Their necks are long and slender, on which their small heads are poised most gracefully. Athletes from their youth, shepherd bred, and intermarrying among themselves, thus keeping the race pure, any of them would form a fit subject for the sculptor who would wish to immortalize in marble an Antinous, a Hylas, a Daphnis, or an Apollo. The women are as beautiful as the men are handsome. They have clear, ebon skins, not coal black; but of an inky hue. Their ornaments consist of spiral rings of brass pendent from the ears, brass ring collars about the necks, and a spiral cincture of brass wire about their loins for the purpose of retaining their calf and goat skins, which are folded about their bodies, and, depending from their shoulder, shade one-half of the bosom and fall to the knees." Here again is a piece of royal state worthy of the meeting between a representative of science and the sovereign of part at least of | the Blacks' own continent. The Sultan of Manyara has come, with his chiefs, to visit the camp of the stranger. He has looked all around, examined the double-barrelled guns, the rifle, &c., and our traveller thus proceeds: After having explained to them the difference between white men and Arabs, I pulled out my medicine chest, which evoked another burst of rapturous sighs at the cunning neatness of the array of vials. He asked what they meant. 66 Down," I replied sententiously, a word which may be interpreted medicine. "Oh-h, Oh-h,” they murmured admiringly. I succeeded before long in winning unqualified admiration; and my superiority, compared with the best of the Arabs they had seen, was but too evident. Down, down," they added. “Here,” said I, uncorking a vial of medicinal brandy, “is the kisunger pombe (white man's beer); take a spoonful and try it," at the same time handing it. "Hacht, hacht, oh, hacht! What! eh! what strong beer the white men have! Oh how my throat burns!" "Ah, but it is good," said I, "a little of it makes men feel strong and good; but too much of it makes men bad, and they die.” Let me have some," said one of the chiefs; "and me," and me," "and me," as soon as each had tasted. 66 "I next produced a bottle of concentrated ammonia, which, as I explained, was for snake bites and headaches. The Sultan immediately complained he had a headache, and must have a little. Telling him to close his eyes, I suddenly uncorked the bottle, and presented it to His Majesty's nose. The effect was ma|│gical, for he fell back as if shot, and such contortions as his features underwent are indescribable. His chiefs roared with laughter, and clapped their hands, pinched each other, snapped their fingers, and committed many other ludicrous things. The chiefs in turn had each a sniff at the same wonderful bottle. "Oh!" said the Sultan at parting, "these white men know everything; the Arabs are dirt compared to them!" Of the meeting and intercourse between Livingstone and his enterprising friend, our readers will doubtless learn for themselves in the pages of his large but attractive volume. It is lively and well written, considering the haste, from beginning to end, of outfit, jour ney, book-making and all. It would be easy, was heard by us at a distance of over one hun- The maps, with their interesting details of lake and river, help to give countenance to the assumption of original exploration and geographical discovery, which it would be absurd to lay claim to seriously, as any source of Mr. Stanley's undoubted merit. By a bold dash he solved a mystery which seemed to baffle all the efforts of the Royal Geographical Society; and accomplished single-handed what neither their consular agent, nor the exploratory expedition they organized with so much effort, seemed equal to. But if the mystery of ages is to be solved by the raid of a New York Herald reporter in a single season, then the weary years of exile which Dr. Livingstone has endured in the fever-haunted regions, where he still lingers under the idea that the problem is still unsolved, are years of misspent labour and sorrow. An outlet for Lake Tanganika is one of the great unsolved problems of African exploration. Captain Burton conceived it had no outlet, and Dr. Beke would give it none other than the skyward one of the tropical sun's evaporation. But Mr. Stanley has an astounding native story of the "Kabogo, a great mountain on the other side of the Tanganika, full of deep holes, into which the water rolls; and when there is wind on the lake there is a sound like thunder." Mr. Stanley believes in this subterranean outlet of the great lake, for he "distinctly heard a sound as of distant thunder in the west," and he accordingly enters into a careful calculation; which he thus sums up :"Therefore the sound of the thundering surf, which is said to roll into the caves of Kabogo, The mysterious river of Egypt owes its remarkable character to the relations it bears to two very diverse geographical areas. The annual overflow of the Nile, and the fertilizing mud which it deposits in the lower valley, are contributed by the tributaries of the great river which have their rise in Abyssinia. There the rainy season lasts among its highlands from June to September, while for the remaining nine months of the year the river is fed from the great equatorial lakes which Speke, Grant, Baker and Livingstone have made known to us anew, but which it is indisputable were already laid down in ancient maps of the Arabian geographers. Thus the perennial flow of the Nile is maintained from the latter source; while the annual overflow, on which the fertilizing of the great Egyptian river-valley depends, is secured by the floods of the Abyssinian highlands in our summer quarter of the year. The celebrated traveller, Robert Bruce of Kinnaird, was the first to reveal, in modern times, the wonders of Abyssinia. He told a "traveller's tale" so full of marvels that no one would believe it. Of all his stories, that of cutting steaks out of the buttock of a live cow was received with most unbounded ridicule. But hardly a statement of the traveller which possessed any notable specialty escaped the stigma of falsehood; till this unjust incredulity and ridicule culminated in the extravagant satire of Baron Munchausen and his wonderful adventures. It seemed for a time as if Mr. Stanley was to experience anew the fate of the great Abyssinian traveller; and none were so virulent in their aspersions as his own American brethren of the press. But we live in an age of more easy and rapid correction of misapprehensions such as this. The statements of Bruce have been proved to be correct by Salt, Burckhardt, Clarke, Belzoni, and every later traveller who has crossed his tract. But the assaults of malignant ignorance haunted the traveller to his elf-arrows, which one of his tenants took out of a cow that died an unusual death; and also records a well attested story of an elf-arrow shot at a venerable Irish bishop by an evil spirit, in a terrible thunder-clap, which shook the whole house where the bishop was ! grave. For years before his death the only reference he ever made to his African travels was a remark to his own daughter, that she would live to see the truth of all his narratives confirmed. It has been far otherwise with Stanley. Ridicule and detraction have only added to the ultimate popularity of his adventures, and conferred on them even an exaggerated importance. A single season has sufficed to right his wrongs; and his handsome and highly attractive, though necessarily superficial volume, bids fair to return to its authoring relics of the barbarian hordes of Persia. They a very substantial, though fully merited reward. Every admirer of the great traveller whom he has succoured owes to Mr. Stanley a debt of gratitude; and the closing words of grateful thanks and kindly congratulations sent to him by Queen Victoria, along with the more substantial memorial of Her Majesty's good will, are as welcome to the sympathetic reader as they can have been to himself. THE ANCIENT STONE IMPLEMENTS, WEAPONS, AND ORNAMENTS OF GREAT BRITAIN. By John Evans, F. R. S., F.S.A., &c. New York : D. Appleton & Co. 1872. In an elaborate and copiously illustrated treatise, extending to 640 pages, Mr. Evans here deals in exhaustive fashion with one of the most interesting phases of primeval archæological history. The era of the Norman Conquest seems very ancient to us; Alfred and his Saxons lie on the mythic and legendary border-land of fable; and as for Arthur and his Britons, we are well content that our poet laureate should have them all to himself. Yet the oldest of those eras is but of yesterday compared with the eras of the "Stone Period." That flint arrow-heads-such as are common enough on many Canadian localities-were of frequent occurrence in Britain, has long been known, Stone axe-heads, like the primitive tomahawk of the American savage, are equally abundant; but they remained for centuries the elf-bolt and thunder-stone of popular superstition. In an old Scottish trial for witchcraft, one of the witnesses describes, in all gravity and good faith, a cavern where the arch-fiend is known to carry on the manufacture of elf-arrows, surrounded by his attendant imps, who rough-hew them out of the blocks of flint. These were believed to be the sources of many evils, and especially of cattle diseases. Dr. Hykes writes to the old diarist, Pepys, how Lord Talbot did produce one of these Such was the nature of current belief in these relics. Set in gold or silver, they were worn as amulets or charms; and they are similarly used by the Arabs of Northern Africa at the present day. They have been found on the field of Marathon; the last were almost the only ancient weapons which the antiquaries of last century did not class as Roman. But before the close of the eighteenth century, ere speculations as to the antiquity of the human race had began to puzzle men's minds, a remarkable discovery of large, rude flint implements was made at Haxne in Suffolk, under circumstances which even then suggested to their observer, Mr. Frere, F.R.S., that they belonged "to a very remote period indeed, even beyond that of the present world." Fortunately, Mr. Frere presented some of these primitive implements to the Society of Antiquaries of London. They lay as mere "Celtic weapons," safe in the cabinets of the Society till, in 1859, Mr. Evans returned from an exploration of the famous drift deposits of Amiens and Abbeville, which were then exciting so wide-spread an interest, and recognised the very same characteristics in the Suffolk implements as in those which formed the noticeable type of those of France. Implements of this type have been recovered in modern years from the same locality, alongside of the fossil deer, horse and elephant. Research has been extended in other localities. The disclosures of France have been followed by others of no less interest in Switzerland, Spain and Italy. The Palestine Exploring Expedition has sent home Syrian flintimplements, with their other relics of the Holy Land. Wherever research extends, fresh evidences present themselves of periods of great antiquity and long duration, during which man, in a state of the rudest barbarism, supplied all his tool-using requirements by means of flint or bone. What were at first but the vague disclosures of what was regarded as a primitive Stone Period, now marshals itself, under the intelligent systematizing of its students, into distinct periods of very diverse antiquity. There is first and most modern of such primitive eras of barbaric art: The Neolithic period, with its varied implements of flint and stone, hewn, polished and decorated with the rudiments of artistic taste. To this period also belong many rude personal ornaments, vessels of stone, elaborately decor |