It is believed, however, that the paintings still exist behind their present covering.

The walk through the museum is certainly one of the most wonderful in the world. There are more masterpieces, perhaps, in Florence; possibly objects of greater value may be accumulated in the British Museum, though that is doubtful; but nowhere in the world are statues and antiquities so well arranged as in the Vatican, and perhaps the orderly beauty of arrangement has as much to do as anything else with the charm that pervades the whole. One is brought into direct communication with Rome at its best, brilliant with the last reflections of Hellenic light; and again one is brought into contact with Rome at its worst, and beyond its worst, in its decay and destruction. Amid the ruin, too, there is the visible sign of a new growth in the beginnings of Christianity, from which a new power, a new history, a new literature, and a new art were to spring up and blossom, and in the rude sculpture of the Shepherd, the Lamb and the Fishes, lies the origin of Michelangelo's «Moses» and «Pietà.» There, too, one may read, as in a book, the whole history of death in Rome, graven in the long lines of ancient inscriptions, the tale of death when there was no hope, and its story when hope had begun in the belief in the resurrection of the dead. There the sadness of the sorrowing Roman contrasts with the gentle hopefulness of the bereaved Christian, and the sentiment and sentimentality of mankind during the greatest of the world's developments are told in the very words which men and women dictated to the stone-cutter. To those who can read the inscriptions the impression of direct communication with antiquity is very strong. For those who cannot there is still a special charm in the long succession of corridors, in the occasional glimpses of the gardens, in the cool magnificence of the decorations, as well as in the statues and fragments which line the endless straight walls. One returns at last to

the halls, one lingers here and there, to look again at something one has liked, and in the end one goes out, remembering the place rather than the objects it contains, and desiring to return again for the sake of the whole sensation one has had rather than for any defined purpose.

At the last, opposite the iron turnstile by which the visitors are counted, there is the closed gate of the garden. It is very hard to get admission to it now, for the Pope himself is there almost every day when the weather is fine. In the Italian manner of gardening the grounds are well laid out, and produce the effect of being much larger than they really are. They are not, perhaps, very remarkable, and Leo XIII must sometimes long for the hills of Carpineto and the freer air of the mountains, as he drives round and round in the narrow limits of his small domain, or walks a little under the shade of the ilextrees, conversing with his gardener or his architect. Yet those who love Italy love its old-fashioned gardens, the shady walks, the deep box-hedges, the stiff little summerhouses, the fragments of old statues at the corners, and even the scherzi d'acqua, which are little surprises of fine water-jets, that unexpectedly send a shower of spray into the face of the unwary. There was always an element of childishness in the practical jesting of the last century.

When all is seen, the weary tourist gets into his cab and drives down the empty paved way by the wall of the library, along the basilica, and out once more to the great square before the church. Or, if he be too strong to be tired, he will get out at the steps, and go in for a few minutes to breathe the quiet air before going home, to get the impression of unity, after the impressions of variety which he has received in the Vatican, and to take away with him something of the peace which fills the cathedral of Christendom.

F. Marion Crawford.

July 18, 1893. Arrived at Aden at eight this morning. The Peshawur sailed away about noon. We found awaiting us the Kilwa, in which we are to travel to the Zambesi. I met Dualla, Stanley's old servant. He is the husband of three wives, wears a beard, and with an air of great importance sails about Aden in flowing robes of silk; evidently he is much respected. He is a Somali by birth. I gave him Stanley's address, to whom he will write.

1 As was described in THE CENTURY for October, Mr. Glave completed his remarkable journey across Africa

He says he is writing a book of his experiences.

August 1. Reached Zanzibar about noon. It seems to be in a very quiet state; the natives are cheerfully submissive to British authority, and there is every sign of the decay of Arab influence. The slave-trade is very quiet, though natives of Zanzibar are nearly all slaves. Sir John Kirk, an authority, says that only five per cent. of the slaves shipped

from east to west in May, 1895, and had the sad fate to die of fever while waiting for the departure of the home

to Pemba are caught by the British gunboats; ninety-five per cent. get away. Only recently a dhow was caught having fifty-three aboard. The dhow was flying French colors, and the slaves were from the district near Lake Nyassa. In olden times there was a tax on each slave coming into Zanzibar; then if a slave was ill beyond the possibility of recovery, his master killed him rather than run the risk of his dying before he could be sold.

When a dhow is chased, the Arabs always tell the slaves not to be captured, because the white men will eat them; by thus intimidating

ward steamer. His journals are in large part discursive notes for the papers he intended to write. In preparing this paper and those which are to follow, those passages from the journals are given which form a narrative of special interest to the general reader. Among his effects were found many letters of introduction in Arabic and other languages. The following characteristic letter may fitly serve as an introduction to these papers, in supplement to Mr. Stanley's «Story of the Development of Africa» in THE CENTURY for February last:

2 RICHMOND TERRACE, WHITEHALL, S. W., June 21, 1893. TO ALL MY FRIENDS: It is with a strong hope that this open letter of introduction may be of some service to my friend, Mr. E. J. Glave, with such gentlemen

them they get their captives to escape from the war-ship's boats when the dhow is run ashore. Slaves are well cared for when they reach Zanzibar; they soon forget their past hardships, and get strong and well, and are apparently happy and contented. There are large clove plantations here, which yield a profit only when worked by slave labor. Slaves are still reaching the coast, but the difficulties are now so great that comparatively few caravans make the attempt.

August 17. Last night the cutter of the flag-ship Raleigh caught a dhow with five whom I call friends or kindly acquaintances, that I venture to supply him with it. His own personal worth may in many cases render it unnecessary, but youth is often modest and diffident, and those who might wish to make his acquaintance might be deterred from similar feelings from addressing him. I beg then simply to say that Mr. Glave was one of my pioneer officers on the Congo, where he performed excellent and most faithful service. He has since been traveling in Alaska and Western America, and has lately been sent by THE CENTURY to write up articles such as may be published in a high-class illustrated magazine. Any assistance, advice, or suggestion from residents in Africa will be of immense value to a stranger, and I would most cordially plead for their good offices to my friend whenever practicable. HENRY M. STANLEY.

slaves on board. The dhow was flying French colors, so that this morning the French consul took charge of her; she will be condemned, and her slaves sent to the missions to be educated. It is of course against the law to sell and buy slaves in Zanzibar, but it is always being done in spite of the law. Tippoo Tib is said to own about six thousand slaves ere in Zanzibar. He is now trading legitimately, and owns much property.

September 3. Left Zanzibar at daylight by the steamer African.

September 9. Consul Ross told me day before yesterday that a great many slaves leave the coast of Africa between Quilimane and Mozambique, and are taken to Madagascar and the Comoro Islands. Off the mouth of the Chindé I was met by A. G. Hunt, and invited by him to be his guest on board the British gunboat Herald, an invitation which I gladly accepted. The gunboats are on the river to check both Portuguese and slave-raiding influences. The Portuguese are still dealing in slaves. Here at Chindé the British have a concession of territory from the Portuguese, and anything landed within the limits of the concession pays no duty. This great benefit to commerce seriously affects the Portuguese cus

toms revenues. All the trade is going into the British concession, the Portuguese always making small trouble about small difficulties. The Portuguese commandant lives in a grass hut still, though his nation has been here for four hundred years.

September 12. To-day we left Chindé on board the Herald. This boat and the Mosquito make small exploring trips up-stream. We left at twelve noon, and steamed up the channel to the right of the Chindé; after a while we reached a very narrow but deep channel, passed several villages, and entered the Zambesi about six at night. The experiment successfully proves a new way into the Zambesi from the coast. The natives along the bank were very friendly; the women courtesy in a graceful way. The men in our boat threw biscuits to the natives, for which they appeared very grateful, clapping their hands, grinning, and scraping their feet on the ground.

September 24. Left Chindé on board the John Bowie to-day. The Zambesi is a magnificent highway to the heart of Africa, and is playing a great part in the suppression of the slave-trade. We are towing a lighter, which, with our steamer, is loaded in fine trim with Major Manning's 110 Sikhs, 6 tons of car

TIPPOO TIB AT ZANZIBAR.1

tridges, camp equipment, and slaves. The Sikhs all sleep on shore to-night. In a little while tents were pitched and camp-fires blinking. The navigation of the Zambesi is exceedingly difficult on account of the sand-banks stretching from shore to shore with winding channels. The John Bowie is drawing only 22 inches now, and even with this draft she is constantly sticking on sand-banks.

September 26. Passed to-day about twenty miles from Chupanga, the spot where Mrs. Livingstone is buried. There is now a large house there, occupied by a Portuguese; to the right of the house there is a large tree, and Mrs. Livingstone's grave is near this. A thick haze, composed of flying sand and smoke from the grass fires, enveloped the land, and the thick forest to the rear of the grave could be but indistinctly seen, though the big tree stood out boldly as a stanch monument. How the conditions of life in the land have changed! It was of course the work of Livingstone and his wife that pioneered civilization into these parts. There are a few villages here and there; but as we are conveying Manning and

1 With the exception of this and the pictures on the two previous pages, the illustrations of this article are from sketches and photographs made by the author.-EDITOR.

his Sikhs post-haste up-stream, we call nowhere, and at a distance see only the tops of huts peeping out from the banana groves. The natives line the beach and climb to the summit of ant-hills to view the passage of our steamer.

September 27. We entered the Shiré River this evening. We are passing fine hilly lands clothed with warm-tinted shrubs and rich tropical vegetation. Much tobacco is under cultivation in the native villages.

September 30. At Port Herald, the first British settlement, we heard that Nduné from Makanga is on a big slave-raiding expedition with the Ngwengé people. He is fighting the Portuguese, who thus far have had the worst of it.

October 1. Passed several new villages springing up owing to the security to life and property enjoyed under British protection. Yesterday the scenery was very fine, more wood to be seen, and timbered hills on both banks in the distance; grass plains everywhere, and plenty of game.

October 5. Left Chiromo on foot by a level trail along the south bank of the Ruo. There is plenty of water everywhere along this trail. This is a big caravan with 450 carriers, 110 Sikhs, and about twelve servants. The carriers are constantly stopping either to drink, smoke, eat, or rearrange their loads. The carriers are paying their hut tax by carrying loads.

October 8. To-day we met on the way Mr. Bell, the chief of the Milanji district. The native chiefs are refusing to pay taxes, the principal offender being Mkanda. He is an old slaver, and owns a lot of guns and powder. It is said that a big caravan will shortly leave the coast with powder for him. Nicoll, the chief of the Fort Johnston district, captured the other day about nine hundred pounds of powder which had passed through Portuguese territory. Major Manning, Captain Edwards, Bell, and I with twenty-five Sikhs visited Mkanda's village to-day. The natives were all drunk and uncompromising. Bell demanded that they should bring their guns down as a sign of surrender; they refused. They were warned that their village would be burned. One hut was fired; still they were obstinate, and so the whole village was destroyed. One native put a bullet just on the top of Manning's head. We did not leave the village till six, and a hooting crowd of drunken warriors followed behind, peppering us with an occasional shot. At night a charge of slugs was fired into the camp, and a native Wounded. This morning the natives all com