subject, and the writers of more ancient date
consulted, it appears that from a remote period
of antiquity until a time comparatively recent,
all the east coast of Africa between Abyssinia
and the confines of the Cape Colony has been
regarded as rich in gold. Not only did Heber
use no poet's licence when he said "Where
Afric's sunny fountains roll down their golden
sands:" but Livingstone speaks of the practice
of gold washing in the rivers. It appears
that when a native discovers a particle
of gold larger than usual, he carefully replaces
it where he found it, believing it to be the seed
of gold.

The southern gold fields are believed to be
about sixty miles long and twenty broad. The
extent of the northern, which lie near the Zambesi
river, is not yet equally well determined;
but traces of gold have been found nearer the
Cape Colony.

On the receipt of Machien's proposal of annexation,
which the Governor of the Cape was
not in a position to accede to, without authority
from home, his excellency submitted to the
Cape parliament a proposal to send an exploring
party to investigate the matter; to determine
the best route; and to ascertain what
were the facilities for procuring food and water.
The parliament at once voted a sum of money
for the purpose; and when the writer left the
colony affairs were in progress for carrying out
the designs. Meanwhile, private parties were
already forming for reaching the gold fields,
and various suggestions as to the best route
appeared in print.

Some advocated their approach from the
western coast, from a spot called Waalfisch, or
Walich Bay; this would mean a somewhat long
voyage by sea, and a still longer and much more
precarious journey over land, for the gold fields
lie nearer tlie eastern than the western coast of
Africa; while Walich Bay is on the west coast.
As, however, a party was forming to adopt that
route, it is to be presumed that the originators
of the plan had good reason for pursuing this
course. Some, again, advocate the line through
the Cape Colony by Hope Town, on its frontiers,
thence skirting the western boundary of
the Transvaal Republic by the mission station of
Kuruman and Kolobeny, into Machien's territory.
Others propose to start from Port Natal,
and to pursue a north-western course; and a
fourth class, believing that the Transvaal boers,
in spite of their rowdyism and hatred of the
English, would still be sufficiently alive to their
own interest to further the attempt to pass
through their land, advocate the adoption of that
route. The man of all others best able to form a
judgment, in the absence of Dr. Livingstone,
one who though never actually on the spot, has
been in constant communication with the great
traveller, is of opinion, that the proper route
will be by the Zambesi; and that in spite of the
difficulty of landing at the mouth of that river,
the malaria so fatal along part of the
banks, it will be better to face these perils
and make a rush to the northern fields, which
are not far from the Victoria falls, than to
traverse the deserts from the Cape, and to
risk annoyance from Kaffir chiefs and unruly
boers.

THE POET.

HIMSELF.

       " WHO is this?" said the Moon
         To the rolling Sea,
       " That wanders so sadly, madly, and gladly,
         Looking at thee and me?"

       Said the Sea to the Moon,
         " 'Tis right you should know it,
       This wise good man ,
         Is a wit and a poet;
       But he earns not, and cannot,
         His daily bread,
       So he'll die
         By-and-by,
       And they'll raise a big monument
         Over his head!"

Said the bonnie round Moon to the beautiful Sea,
"What fools the men of your Earth must be 1"

HIS CRITIC.

       WHAT knows the critic of the book?
       As much, it may be, as the rook,
       Perched on the high cathedral tower,
       Knows of the solemn organ's power
       That heaves below with tides of sound,
       Ebbing and flowing all around.
       As much, it may be, as at Rome,
       The fly upon St. Peter's dome
       Knows of the architect's design,
       Who planned and built that fane divine.
       As much, perchance, if truth were said,
       As the hat upon the critic's head
       Knows of the critic's rule or plan,
       Or whether he is ass or man!

HIS DREAM OF HIS POEMS.

       'TWAS in the starry midnight,
         The wind was whirling low,
       And the tall beech trees replying,
         As it rocked them to and fro,
       When half awake, half sleeping,
         I thought that I was dead,
       And floated to the gates of Heaven,
         With angels at my head.

       Angels; ah, well I knew them!
         Pleasant, and fair, and kind;
       Things of my own creation,
         And children of my mind.
       I looked upon their faces,
         And on their sunny wings;
       Their eyes as bright as morning,
         Their breath like balm of springs.

       And some of them were smiling
         Like innocence when glad;
       And some were grave and pensive,
         With tearful eyes and sad.
       But all of them were lovely;
         They were no more than seven;
       And they floated me and wafted me,
         And carried me to Heaven.

       " And are ye all?" I whispered,
         Betwixt a smile and tear,
       " Out of a thousand, only seven,
         To make my light appear?
       Out of a thousand, only seven,
         To shine about my name,
       And give me what I died for,
         The heritage of fame?"