"Even so."

"At last I saw sticks!"

"Even so."

"Stones!"

"Even so."

"Water!!

"Even so."

"A well!!!"

Then, follows the general palaver. In the
ceremonious greetings of the Africans, also,
there is a tediousness kindred to something that
white men occasionally cultivate for purposes
of ceremony. Two Sawahali have met, and
thus they say How do you do? A. "The
State?" B. "The State is good." A. " I
seize the feet." B. "How hast thou eaten and
slept?" A. "I have made my reverential bow."
B. "The State?" A. "It is good." B. "Like
unto gold?" A. "Like unto gold." B. "Like
unto coral?" A. "Like unto coral." B.
"Like unto pearl?" A. "Like unto pearl."
B. "In happiness, farewell!" A. "In happiness
let us meet, if Allah pleases!" B. "Hum!"
A. "Hum!" (drawn out like the German's
So—o—o).

These tedious ceremonies Mr. du Chaillu
found also among his equatorial negroes. But
in the personage to whom most ceremony is due
—an African king—there is a special way of
exciting relish for the reverence that is to come.
Both Mr. du Chaillu and Captain Burton,
writing of the west and of the east, met with
occasion for describing it. Captain Burton, in
the Land of the Moon, writes, that "the chief
was travelling towards the coast as a porter in
a caravan. When he heard of his father's
death, he at once stacked his load and prepared
to return home and rule. The rest of the gang,
before allowing him to depart, beat him severely,
exclaiming, partly in jest, partly in earnest,
'Ah! now thou art still our comrade, but
presently thou wilt fine, flog, torture, and slay
us!'" So when one of Mr. du Chaillu's negro
friends, Njogoni, was voted king, some spat in
his face, others beat him with their fists; some
kicked him, others pelted him with abominations;
whilst the unfortunates who could not
join in this exercise, assiduously cursed him, his
Mothers and sisters, his parents, grand-parents,
and his remotest ancestors. When an
especially severe cuff or toeing was applied, the
applicant exclaimed, "You are not our king
yet; for a little while we will do what we please
with you. By-and-by we shall have to do your
will:" this being the authorised coronation
ceremony of an absolute king.

THE LESURQUES ROMANCE.

MOST romances end when the tomb encloses
their heroes; but the interest of the Lesurques
romance—partly described in number one
hundred and thirty-three of this journal—was not
abated even after dark Fortune had done her
worst on the fair man. To his children was
bequeathed shame, dishonour, and a name for
ever tarnished, instead of their rightful inheritance
forfeited by Lesurques's condemnation;
but the justice of society was clearer-sighted
than the justice of the law. Out of the
rehabilitation which came from public opinion
came a new romance. His friends thought so,
and have never ceased working diligently to
that end; from the day of his execution to the
present day, "the suit from beyond the tomb,"
as the French call it—a very curious process—
has been carried on ever since.

Lesurques had not been dead seven days,
when M. Jarry, the magistrate at Besançon—he
who arrested Dubosc—wrote earnestly to the
citizen Siméon, saying: "Lesurques is innocent.
Labour for the rehabilitation of his memory."
But the citizen Siméon was not likely or willing
to accept the task offered to him by M. Jarry;
for it was through him that Lesurques's appeal
to the Five Hundred had been rejected, and
was it to be expected that he would be more
just to the dead than he had been to the living?
The success of the appeal would have brought
discredit on the new-born institution of trial
by jury, of which institution the citizen Siméon
was the warm supporter; and in those days of
men for ideas, and not ideas for men, it was
thought better that a life should be sacrificed
than that a political principle should be
doubted. The citizen Siméon kept M. Jarry's
letter secret, as well he might; and it was
only discovered in 1833 by the then Minister
of the Interior, M. le Comte de Montalivet,
who delivered it up to the Keeper of the
Seals. But even when trial by jury had been
thoroughly established, and when M. le Comte
Siméon could have borne lightly on his broad
and venerated shoulders any mistakes which the
young citizen commissioner might have
committed, we find him hypocritically confessing to
M. de Salgues, who had then taken up the affair,
that Lesurques was innocent, and the next
moment writing a secret order to the director
of police to seize the documents which this same
M. de Salgues had published; also commanding
that he and the eldest daughter of Lesurques
should be threatened with imprisonment if they
were troublesome and importunate. So good old
M. Jarry lost his time in appealing to the mercy
or love of truth of the stern citizen deputy; and
still the memory of Lesurques lay under the
official ban, and the smallest of the stones was not
rolled away from the tomb of the innocent dead.

In 1804, Beroldi, or Rossi, the last of the
assassins of Excoffon, paid with his head the
forfeit of his crimes. Two days before his
execution he gave his confessor a written statement
admitting his guilt, and emphatically declaring
the innocence of Lesurques. This statement
was not published for six months; but was then
taken up by the widow, and a cousin of
Lesurques, as one of the grounds for the "suit
beyond the tomb" which they meditated. But
to their demand for a copy of the various
papers connected with the trial, the court, on
the 9th Fructidor, year XII., made answer:
"You are not a party to the process; you have
no concern or interest in it. The principles of