thing under the sun-I shall make a figure which shall suggest to the beholder nothing that moveth upon the face of the earth-something so novel, that it has never entered into the heart of man to conceive it, and nobody will guess where the model was found ?" Had he said this, he would have produced an original of that sorry sort which we call an oddity, something very grotesque and ungainly, something like an African fetich or a Hindoo pagod. But the great artist said, "I shall make as near as possible a perfect man. Gathering up hints of strength and symmetry wherever I can find them, I shall devoutly endeavor to realize that exquisite model which was in the eye of the Divine Artist himself;" and, with the humility of genius, content to copy, limb by limb, and lineament by lineament, there came out from the dead rock the most unique of all originalities, a perfect figure, a glorified humanity, a vision of power and joy which makes us understand how very good, once on a time, was this mortal frame,-how fearfully and wonderfully made at first,-how wonderful and fearful the resurrection may see it all again.

The Belvidere Apollo is the most unique and original of sculptures, because it is the most earnest and successful of imitations. As far as he could catch sight of it, the artist kept constantly in view the model supplied by the Creator; and it is by combining so skillfully every fragment of peculiar beauty or vigor which came in his way, and by copying these so faithfully, that he has realized such a splendid conception.

Now, making one proviso-remarking that all genuine goodness is spontaneous, that it is excellence followed for its own sake not mimicked for admiration's sake, you will find the goodness will turn out the most original, not which makes its own model, or strikes out its own style, but which most closely copies Perfection. This book supplies such a model. It exhibits a Pattern-Man,-a wearer of our intellect, and will, and affections, who never spoke a word that was not the right one, and who never did a right deed so that even he himself could have done it better. This peerless pattern,—this man so elevated, yet so tender,-so loyal to God, yet so loving to those around him, so separate from sin, yet so void of sanctimoniousness, the Word sets before you,

and God says, Be ye followers of Christ. Walk as Christ also walked. Let the mind be in you which was in Christ Jesus. And a few sublime spirits, made generous by the Spirit of God, have been seized with a blessed ambition, and not because men would admire them, but because they were smitten by goodness so charming, they have gazed on it, and pondered it, and imbibed it, till they were sensibly changed into the same image, and men felt, "There you go, so noble, so lovely. We know where you have been: you could not have attained an excellence so charming, had not Jesus Christ once been in the world, and had you not somehow been brought into contact with him."

The most polished Englishman of the last century was Philip Dormer Stanhope, the fourth Earl of Chesterfield. Highborn and well-bred, clever, eloquent, and witty, and endowed with a large amount of natural amenity, he was bent on distinction. To dazzle his cotemporaries was the business of his life. He was a man who made his own model. From the speeches of Cicero, from the epigrams of Martial, from the saloons of Paris and Versailles, he gleaned the several ingredients of classic grace and modern refinement, and sought to combine them in the courtier, the statesman, and orator. He had no God. In the shrine where the Most High should be, there was a dim outline which looked very like a colossal Stanhope carrying a young Chesterfield in its arms; but unless this mixture of self-idolatry and son-worship deserve the name, there was no religion in the man. He had his reward. At a levee, or in a drawing-room, he moved "the admired of all admirers." Few inade such formidable speeches in Parliament. None uttered so many brilliant sayings in society. He got ribins, plaudits, diplomatic appointments, the smiles of the fair, the envy of his peers ;everything except true human affection; everything except the approbation of God. Should any one wish to repeat the man, the mold is still extant. It will be found in Lord Chesterfield's "Letters to his Son;"-a book of which our great moralist said, in effect, that "it inculcates the morals of a profligate with the manners of a dancing-master." But before taking more trouble, it is well to know the result. At the close, he confessed that his life had been as joyless as it had been selfish

cies.

God's Spirit strengthened him, and gave him wonderful self-conquest. Retaining all his natural elasticity, his wit, his bright fancy, his melodious voice and fluent speech, his random hilarity was exchanged for conscientious kindness, and all his gifts of mind and station were devoutly laid at the feet of his Redeemer. With his pen he expounded to the highest classes that system of vital piety which Whitefield and Wesley had already preached to the populace; and carrying it to the dinner-tables of Clapham, and the evening assemblies of Piccadilly, many who fancied religion too severe in the sermons of Bishop Porteus or the strictures of Hannah More, confessed to its loveliness in the life of Mr. Wilberforce. Then, in his public career-keeping himself on purpose pure"-avoiding office, never using for personal ends the vast ascendency over others which his fascinating goodness gave him, any more than the prestige of his mighty Yorkshire constituency; alike on the floor of St. Stephen's and on the platform of Freemasons' Tavern, he consecrated to every humane and Christian cause a persuasive and pathetic eloquence, chastened by a pure taste, varied by extensive information, enriched by classical allusion, sometimes elevated by the

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more sublime topics of Holy Writ-the thoughts and the spirit

That touch'd Isaiah's hallow'd lips with fire.'”

How much the individual advocacy of one so loved and honored effected for Missionary and Bible Societies, it would be difficult to tell; but it is hardly metaphor to say that Africa wept when he died. His country will never forget him: for although poets, warriors, and statesmen, in numbers repose under the roof of the Abbey, England recognizes no originality more illustrious, no heroism more patriotic, than his who led the campaign of humanity so long, and who achieved the abolition of the Slave Trade.

The model on which Wilberforce was formed still exists. The reader will find it in the book which we have sought to recommend; and if, in exploring that book, he finds thoughts to which no one yet has done justice, philanthropic suggestions which no one has yet carried out, features of excellence which no one yet has exhibited, he will just repeat the experience of a thousand predecessors, and still will leave a virgin-field for the researches of all who follow.

The Book of Nature is not exhausted. Gutta-percha and chloroform, coal-gas and steam-carriages, sun-pictures and electric telegraphs, have all come to light within the last few years; and greater things than these are coming. All that is wanting is an explorer who distinctly understands what it is that he desires, and who will accept the answer when nature flings it at his feet.

The Book of Revelation is not exhausted either. In our own day it has yielded treasures long latent; and we have seen such things come out of it as, "The Astronomical Discourses," and " Elijah the Tishbite." Within the memory of some now living, it has yielded Sabbath schools and foreign missions, prison-visiting, ragged schools, and convict-reformation. It has emancipated slaves. It has ransomed thousands from ignorance and bondage. It has sent Scripture-readers and evangelists into the very abodes of sin. It has given our higher classes kinder and fairer feelings toward their less-favored brethren. And scantily as it is even yet admitted into the faith and affections of Christendom, it is the benevolence of the Bible which at this moment keeps its spirit from

souring, and it is the "blessed hope" of the Bible which keeps its heart from breaking; just as the existence of that Bible is a pledge that its merciful Creator has in reserve for the world a long Sabbath of peace and righteousness.

Yet, like the good gifts which nature retained in her bosom, till the sage purchased them and handed them forth to his fellows, all these great thoughts and good schemes were treasures hid in the Scripture, till Chalmers and Krummacher, Raikes and Sadler, Sarah Martin and Mrs. Fry, found them out and brought them forth. But the book is not exhausted; and if you really wish to serve your fellows, this Mentor will show you the way. With its guidance you will find that the true "excelsior" is humility, and that, like Pascal, Edwards, and Vinet, the believer on his knees sees further than the philoso- | pher on tiptoe. You will find that the book which, among its affectionate copyists, has yielded characters so distinct, yet so excellent, as Arnold and Buxton, Howard and Williams, Martin and M'Cheyne, can make you as superior to your present self as these men were superior to ordinary mortals. In one word, you will find that in things intellectual, he is likely to be the mightiest master who knows the Bible best, and most meekly trusts in God; and in things moral and philanthropic,-in conduct and character, he is likely to be the greatest original who is the closest copyist-the most implicit imitator of Christ.

TO MY WATCH,

(LYING, STOPPED, IN THE DESK.) FAMILIAR time-piece-thou whose tick Hath cheer'd for me full many a night, Still chiming with my pulse-now quick

And loud-now low, and slow, and light. Dear monitor and friend, when thick

And throbbing memories throng'd my brain, Thy fluttering beat, so loud and quick,

Would soothe as if it shared my pain. But hush'd is now thy faithful tick, That with each mood such chiming made; Methinks thou, too, art crazed and sick, And thou, too, on thy back art laid. And should that tick be heard no more, And silent darkness be thy doom, Thy beat, my heart, shall soon be o'er, Hush'd in the dark and silent tomb. And when (time ended) I shall stand In judgment for eternity,

May mercy vail, with pitying hand,

The record thou shalt bear 'gainst me!
NEWPORT, R. I.

C. T. B.

SLAVE-HUNTS IN THE SAHARA.

FROM

ROM the bondman, trembling under a scourge in the American plantation, we sometimes turn to Africa, the mother of bondage, who forges chains for her own children. Of the iron dug from her own mountains these fetters are made, and the tribes of the sons of Tubal Cain beat and shape them on her own soil. In the solitude of those central deserts man keeps the gate open to his enemy. The sword never found a passage thither. Nothing but gold ever penetrated the Sahara. Its dwellers were never conquered by an Alexander or a Cæsar, but any truckling kidnapper can corrupt them. It is a bitter witness to the broken faith of man with man, to see creatures born under the pledge of a common compact and natural law betraying and degrading one another; but the most miserable sight in the whole dark range of human debasement is that of the beginning of the slave's sorrow. He is pitiable when he has grown old in servitude, but still more pitiable when the anklets and manacles are new and bright upon his limbs, when liberty still lingers in his thoughts, like the sweetest taste of childhood, and he is torn from home, casting a longing, wretched, hopeless look behind.

Remote in the wilderness of Central Africa slavery brings forth its offspring. There, among beautiful hills and oäses watered by delicious springs, with dategroves shading hamlets which seem all pleasantness and peace, mothers nurse the young brood which is to pine, and toil, and perish in the sugar or tobacco grounds of Cuba or the Western Continent.

A great belt of populous country stretches across the desert, which spreads over the central region of Africa, and was by the ancients compared, with its tawny surface and spots of hill and verdure, to a leopard's skin. Four great kingdoms are situated upon this populous belt-Wadaï, Bournou, Soudan, and Timbuctoo, whence four caravan tracks lead down across sandy and stony wastes to the Barbary coast. Lesser kingdoms lie around about, each in an oasis of its own; and from all of these come annually to the sea trains of captured slaves, to be sold in the cities and ports, while others go westward to supply the traders who ply to the shores of Cuba. Ivory, ostrich feathers, senna, wax, and

indigo are also brought down; but this legitimate traffic is comparatively small, of recent growth, and never likely to become important without diminishing or extinguishing the commerce in human beings.

Melancholy everywhere, the slave system is most melancholy in Central Africa. For, in those distant countries, defended on all sides by deserts, and only made accessible by the cupidity of man, we perceive the slave in his original home, enjoying that happiness which harmonizes with his nature, and is interrupted by the stealth or violence of the kidnapper.

We may choose a city of the once famous and mysterious kingdom of Bournou -the city of Zinder, buried deep in the center of Africa. It is picturesquely situated amid undulations of green hills, with sprinkles of gigantic knolls. Meadows lie around it without fences, and cornstacks and granaries stand in the open country without bolt or guard, illustrating a feeling of honor among these " mighty hunters" of their fellow-men. About twenty thousand people dwell here in habitations which are scattered over a vast space of ground. A conical hill, or a block of granite, marks each separate quarter. Circular walls of matting, inclosing a number of huts, or mud houses, denote the residence of a chieftain; while irregular clusters show where the inferior qualities of the population are congregated. At sunset one or two hundred vultures fly in a circle over the city, and clean it from refuse collected in the day. There are two weekly markets, when cattle, camels, sheep, flesh, wheat, honey, hotkabobs, and sweet potatos are exposed for sale, besides merchandise and slaves. Fruit and vegetables, of the most cooling kinds, are brought from gardens which pleasantly encircle Zinder; and thus a strange nation passes a strange but unromantic life.

The great trade of the kingdom is in slaves, who are classed in a peculiar manner: the men are assorted into those who have a beard, those who have none, and those who have a beard beginning; while the women are valued according to the size and shape of their bosoms. The best of them go to the city of Niffee, to be there shipped for America. There is an immense traffic in these slaves, who are exchanged for American goods, which are to be found in these markets more abundantly than in those of any other country.

The chief slave-hunters in these kingdoms are, of course the kings themselves. Some of them go out once a year, others once a month, and on various pretences, though many avow openly the purposes of their expedition. Formerly, when the rulers were Moslems, and the people idolators, a religious cry covered the shame of the kidnapper; but the whole population became Mohammedan, and then the faithful hunted the faithful as savagely as they had before hunted the Kaffirs or infidels! Their common plan is this:A chief foments a quarrel with some town or village within his territories, upon some affair of taxation, and then, to vindicate his rights, marches forth and captures all the inhabitants. In order to enjoy this privilege he pays a tribute to the Great Sheikh or Lord of Bournou.

A regular razzia, or slave-hunt in the Sahara, is perhaps the most extraordinary of all the operations invented by man to obtain wealth. For some time before, there is generally a rumor in the city that this event is to take place, and great is the excitement in the bordering countries until it is known in which direction the sarkee, or governor, will march. This village is now named, and now that; but a mystery usually prevails till within a few days of the start. Meanwhile, small parties are sent out from time to time to steal "a family or two," in order to be exchanged for certain nuts which the sarkee is pleased to like. Then, perhaps, a boy pilfers a little fruit. Public justice must be vindicated! He is sold in the bazar, and not only he, but his father, mother, and sisters, and perhaps the whole circle of his relations, the money being appropriated by the chief.

Gradually, however, the plan of the great razzia is completed. A thousand slaves are required-so many to be sent to the sheikh, so many to be distributed among the interior traders, and so many to be kept by the sarkee. If a common man catches five, three belongs to him, and two to his feudal master; if he kidnaps two, each has one for his share. Thus the whole populace has an interest in the result of the expedition; and all join with hope and glee to chase the peaceful villagers of the contiguous country, and bring them home desolate in chains. Five thousand cavalry, and thirty thousand bowmen assemble on a plain near the city;