tionist leader, John Brown, was contrasted with that of Christ, as one so far superior in manliness that it should be enough of itself to shame Christians out of their superstition, which induced me to propose this inquiry to you. Now I freely admit that there is no recorded end of a life that I know of more entirely brave and manly than this one. About that I think there would scarcely be disagreement anywhere. The very men who allowed him to lie in his bloody clothes till the day of his execution, and then hanged him, recognised this. "You are a game man, Captain Brown," the sheriff said in the waggon. "Yes," he answered, "I was so brought up. It was one of my mother's lessons. From infancy I have not suffered from physical fear. I have suffered a thousand times more from bashfulness;" and he kissed a negro child in its mother's arms and walked cheerfully on to the scaffold, thankful that he was "allowed to die for a cause, and not merely to pay the debt of nature, as all must." There is no simpler or nobler record in the book of martyrs, and in passing I would only remind you that he at least was ready to acknowledge from whence came his strength. Christ, the great Captain of liberty as well of salvation," he wrote just before his death, saw fit to take from me the sword of steel after I had carried it for a time, but He has put another in my hand, the sword of the Spirit, and I pray God to make me a faithful soldier wherever He may send me." And to a friend who left him with the words, "If you can be true to yourself to the end how glad we shall be," he answered, "I cannot say, but I do not think I shall deny my Lord and Master, Jesus Christ." The old Abolitionist would have been as amazed as any man at such a comparison as we are dealing with, and have reminded us that, so far from treading the winepress alone, he was upheld by the sympathy and enthusiasm of all of his own nation for whom he cared. 66 No such support had Christ. He knew too well that even the strongest of the little band which came with Him to the garden would deny Him before the light dawned over Olivet. And that sense of utter loneliness it was, more probably than all the rest of the burthen which He was carrying, that wrung from Him the prayer of agony, recalled almost before it was uttered, that the cup might pass from Him, and caused the sweat as it were great drops of blood to fall from His brow as He knelt and prayed. How the tradition of that agony and bloody sweat has come to us it is hard to say, as the nearest witnesses were asleep; but no Christian doubts that it is a true one, or that the passion of human weakness which then passed over His soul was a genuine shrinking from the unutterable anguish which was weighing it down to the dust. But even admitting frankly all that is recorded of the agony and bloody sweat, such admission can only enhance the sublime courage of all that follows. It is his action when the danger comes, not when he is in solitary preparation for it, which marks the man of courage. As Judas with his torchmen draws near He gathers Himself together, rouses His sleepy followers, and meets His enemy in the gate. There could have been no quailing in the glance before which the armed crowd of priests' retainers went backward and fell to the ground. Follow Him through that long night: to the sanhedrim chamber, where He Himself furnishes the evidence which the chief priest sought for in vain while He was silent-to the court of the palace, where He bore the ribaldry and dastard tortures and insults of the low Jewish crowd till morning, turning in the midst of them with the reminding look to Peter, which sent His last friend, broken down by the consciousness of his own cowardice, weeping into the night-to the judgmentseat of Pilate and the scourgings of the Roman soldiers-to Herod's hall and the insults of the base Galilean court-back again to the judgment-seat of the representative of the divine Tiberius, and so to the final brutalities in the prætorium while the cross is preparing, and the blood, dripping from the crown of thorns on His brow, mingles with that which flows from the wounds of His scourgings—and find, if you can, one momentary sign of terror or of weakness. In all the world's annals there is nothing which approaches, in the sublimity of its courage, to that last conversation between the peasant prisoner, by this time a mass of filth and blood, and the Roman procurator, before Pilate led Him forth for the last time, and pleaded scornfully with His nation for the life of their King. The canon from which we started must guide us to the end: there must be no flaw or spot on Christ's courage, any more than on His wisdom and tenderness and sympathy; and the more unflinchingly we apply the test, the more clear and sure will the response come back to us. We have been told recently, by more than one of those who profess to have weighed and measured Christianity and found it wanting, that religion must rest on reason, based on phenomena of this visible tangible world in which we are living. Be it so. There is no need for a Christian to object. Looking, then, at that world as we see it labouring heavily along in our own time, as we hear of it through the records of the ages, I must repeat that there is no phenomenon comparable to this of Christ's life and work. The more we canvass and sift and weigh and balance the materials, the more clearly and grandly does the figure rise before us as the true head of humanity, the perfect example, not only of wisdom and tenderness and love, but of courage also, because He was and is the simple Truth of God-the expression at last in flesh and blood of what He who created us meant and means our race to be. WINTER WHEN the stormcock blows his whistle And the tomtit files his saw, And the robin pipes his treble The poor beggar-boy along; When the cowherd sets his springles Cracks his snails upon the stone, While the young thrush in the thicket When the flails make merry music While the maidens card the wool; Calls the acorn-hunting swine, See the poachers set their wires; TOKENS. When young Hodge, the weary plough-boy, Snores, with heavy head awry, As sly Roger plays the sweetheart To prim Polly, rushing by, While old Pedler Joe laughs, spilling The cider in his mirth, O'er Ship the farm-dog, dozing And dreaming on the hearth, Then the black storms shake their mantles And the snipe comes with the woodcock Making ready for the fray, With their cannon, logs, and crackers, And spiteful, hissing toys, Then the skylarks flock together And the linnets crowding sing, And the children, 'mid the heather, Their red rose berries string; Then, the fruits all safely hoarded, Lo, the farmer waits for morn, With a shout for bleak November And the merry hunter's horn; While the dormouse and the squirrel, Curling cosy in their nest, Tell of merry Christmas coming EDWARD CAPERN. THE LIVINGSTONIA AND HE ashes of Livingstone sleep in Westminster, and over them the sculptured stone speaks of how he sought unswervingly, in sickness and in health, to heal "the open sore of the world;" but a still more eloquent memorial of his life and labours is to be found in the East Central African Mission Station, Livingstonia, which the enkindled enterprise of his countrymen has planted. Public feeling being deeply moved by the untimely death of the great missionary, at the suggestion of the Rev. Dr. James Stewart, of Lovedale, Livingstone's old yoke fellow, it was determined, in May, 1874, to enter in and possess the wide and effectual door of work which his labours had mainly set open. The Church of Scotland and the Free Church, with unanimous voice, embraced the idea, and chose the great lake Nyassa as the site of the proposed mission. Money-a sure pulse by which to test the true from the spurious enthusiasm-flowed in quickly, and now the treasuries of the two Churches for this special object have received about £20,000. Other Churches, caught by the same wave of enthusiasm, have followed this example, and have selected other parts of East Central Africa as fields of evangelisation. The Church Missionary Society, with a starting-fund of ITS LOST LEADER. £12,000, has chosen as its sphere the shores of the Victoria Nyanza; while at Lake Tanganika, intermediate between the two preceding stations, the London Missionary Society, also with a commencing-fund of £12,000, has organized a third new and distinct mission; so that it would seem as if the death of Livingstone has been as powerful as his life to help mission work-the cause he at once represented and advocated as the hope of Africa. In May, 1875, the first or pioneer band of missionaries was sent out by the Free Church to Lake Nyassa. It was guided by Mr. E. D. Young, R.N., and Dr. Robert Laws. They started on the latter half of the journey from Port Elizabeth on 6th July; and, putting together the pieces of their little steamer, the Ilala, at the mouth of the Zambesi, they steamed up that noble river and its tributary, the Shiré, into the great lake, the only interruption to their steady progress being the formidable Murchison Cataracts. They entered Nyassa on the morning of the 12th October at sunrise, and joyfully hailed the sudden flood of glory as a propitious emblem of the advent of the Sun of Righteousness, upon its sin-clouded and slave-peopled shores. From that day to this an unexampled prosperity has been vouchsafed them. By friendly arrangement with the neighbouring chief, Mapunda, a sandy bay with adjacent territory has been secured upon Cape Maclear as a permanent site, "having a western exposure, while sheltered on the east by tree-clad mountains and on the south by three islands." Here a rough harbour has been formed, a general building plan laid out, and a native population has begun to settle under the sheltering wing of their "fathers, the English." A large reinforcement reached the station on 21st October, 1876, headed by Dr. Stewart, of Lovedale, and Dr. Black, a young and promising missionary, upon whom the leadership was meant to fall after the withdrawal of Dr. Stewart. This second party had been accompanied as far as the Murchison Rapids by another band of mission-workers, headed by Dr. Macklin and Mr. Henderson, and sent out by the Church of Scotland. They selected a site near Magomero, and called it "Blantyre," after the birth-place of Livingstone. At both these stations schools have been opened, and scholars are now coming in plentifully, while religious services on Sabbath and week-days are regularly held. For this work the native volunteers trained at Lovedale are of great assistance. Side by side with the teaching, preaching, and healing of the sick, training in husbandry, carpentry, masonry, weaving, and blacksmith-work is being carried on by competent tradesmen from home attached to both stations. Cattle, too, have been introduced as beasts of burden, and ultimately, it is hoped, as a meat supply. But it is feared that the dreaded tsetse may be in the district, and upon the absence of this pestiferous fly may be said to depend all possibility of agriculture on a large scale; and, what is almost as important, all possibility of bullock-travelling when roads. shall be made. So the health of the cows and the calves is daily as anxiously looked after as that of so many human beings threatened with the plague. The moral effect of the British flag upon the local slave-trade has been most wholesome. Before the mission was planted it was estimated that across the ferries of the lake and along its southern shores slaves were carried to the number of twenty thousand per annum. This has now been very largely decreased, and could be entirely checked if a small armed party were kept cruising about on the lake. Charged with the duty of considering the desirability of this, and with the survey of a new route to the coast from the XVIII-60 north end of the lake, it is cheering to know that her Majesty's consul for Mozambique, Captain Elton, and three others, are now probably at Nyassa, having passed Mazaro on the Zambesi on 18th July last. Already the possibility of opening up trade with these rich inland districts has had considerable attention. The existing route is, as we have seen, chiefly by river, with Port Elizabeth as a basis. The Murchison. Cataracts form, however, a huge break in the line of communication. Everything going up or down must be at that point unshipped and undergo porterage for sixty miles over a rough broken pathway. Besides this drawback, the Portuguese Government have advanced claims to the exclusive right of steam navigation of the Zambesi, on account of their settlements upon it, and during the last two years they have exacted high duties upon certain merchandise. How far their right, on both points, has a solid foundation, may well be questioned. But a friendly settlement of differences seems to be near; and quite recently the Lisbon Government have, we learn, reduced their tariff upon duty-charged goods to a uniform rate of two-and-a-half per cent. This route, therefore, as at once the easiest and least liable to interruption, is now being perfected with a view to developing trade. A new porterage road at the cataracts, connecting the upper and lower Shiré, and passing through Blantyre, has just been surveyed and its construction begun. The defrayment of the expense entailed will be solicited from the International African Exploration Society, inaugurated by the King of the Belgians. Mr. James Stewart, C.E., of the Punjab, has most generously given up a year of his furlough to undertake this and other road surveys in connection with the new station. An entirely new route to the settlement is, however, now in process of being opened up. It is meant to start from Kilwa, about latitude 9°, in Zanzibar territory, and strike the north end of the Lake near the Mazitu settlement of Ironga. The needful survey is, as we have already said, being now undertaken by Captain Elton and his party, who will work their way eastwards, via Mesule and Lukose, to the sea-board terminus. Kilwa has been chosen on account of its good harbourage, a serious deficiency both at Quillimane and Zanzibar. This route will be about three hundred and fifty miles in length, and would meet equally well the necessities of coast communication for Lake Tanganika, by a branch road of one hundred miles more. Such a highway would thus have command of about two thousand miles of coast upon both lakes, and besides, would keep up communication with the vast territories beyond, towards the Lualabo. Some Glasgow merchants have sent out an experimental trading expedition to Nyassa, via Kilwa and Mesule. It is in charge of Messrs. J. and F. Moir, sons of a well-known physician in Edinburgh, and they are accompanied by Mr. Maze, an engineer of much practical experience. In all probability this expedition and that of Captain Elton will meet one another about half way. and every farmer for five miles round knew the bright-eyed handsome face of the schoolmaster's son, and generally connived at his oft-repeated raids upon the trout, the peewit's eggs, and the hawks' nests. The Saturdays were to him Elysium, for books could then be lawfully shelved and long excursions indulged in without fear of consequences. Such a life developed in him great selfreliance, decision, and fearlessness, so that soon no errand was thought too difficult for him to execute. In illustration of this, when about ten years of age his mother was taken suddenly ill, and the nearest help from relatives was at Letham, a place six miles over the hills, and towards which there was But to this We have, in our wish to give a connected general view of the prospects of Livingstonia, kept purposely back any reference till now to the first black cloud cast over the promis-only an imperfect sheep-track. ing sky of the young mission. By the loss of the mails of the Cashmere, we are as yet without the full details of the sad calamity. But the facts that have been received are briefly these. In the beginning of May Dr. Black was prostrated by an eighth or ninth attack of fever, which rapidly increased in intensity of effect and was accompanied by stupor and delirium, from which he never rallied, in spite of every attention lavished on him, and on Monday, the seventh of the month, he "fell asleep in Jesus." Thus ended, half a year after his arrival at the lake, and in the thirty-first year of his age, the brief career of a most devoted missionary, to whom the Church had committed a great trust, because he had given promise of great things. The story of William Black's life is replete with interest. Permeated as it was by one grand overmastering emotion, which governed implicitly every energy and faculty, its simplest events, to those in sympathy with him, attract and command notice. He was the first-born of his parents, and, like the infant Samuel, was, before his birth, consecrated by his mother's prayers to the Lord's service. His early life, 1846 to 1866, was spent at his birthplace, Dunbog, a sparsely-peopled rural parish, prettily placed under the shadow of Norman's Law, in the north-east district of Fifeshire. Here he grew up a stirring, daring boy, whose heart was much more in his play than his lessons. His fishing-rod, his rabbits, and his pigeons sadly preoccupied his mind, when it should have been centred upon sums in proportion and dates in history. And this strong bias, which neither advising nor flogging was able to alter, obstinately clung to him, as if in the blood. Nature, not books, was his delight, place in the murk of midnight Willie was the appointed and ready messenger, passing dauntlessly in his way a spot which, in local superstition, was haunted by the ghost of a murderess. There are few men, not to speak of boys, would have cared for such a walk, weirdsome with the shuddering scream of the curlew and the noiseless spectre-flit of the heron suddenly beclouding the path as you proceed. When about thirteen, his father, anxious for his more thorough education, entered him as a pupil in Cupar academy, and there the larger number of advanced scholars of his own age roused him somewhat to emulate their application, and he upon the whole made more satisfactory progress in booklearning. His old love, however, of deeds of daring still clung to him, and on one occasion nearly caused him permanent bodily injury. A narrow ledge on the second floor of the academy runs externally from window to window, and along this, in mere bravado, he was progressing one day, when he fell heavily to the ground, where he lay for a while bruised and stunned. But as no bones were broken, the accident but sufficed to sober him for a week. When fifteen he became enamoured of the calling of an architect. His mother unceasingly hoped and sought for him some sphere as a worker for Christ, but he having as yet evidenced no change of heart, she allowed him to follow his own decision. So, as a training towards his aim, he engaged for a time in practical joiner-work. While thus employed, about the age of nineteen, he became deeply anxious about his religious condition. No special circumstances led to this anxiety other than a diligent use of his Bible and his mother's earnest prayers. His |