"'Good! It is just as I should wish it; but, Robert, you cannot follow these three men. You will break down, my boy.' "'Oh, we will carry him if he breaks down,' said Uledi. 'Won't we, Kacheche?" "'_Inshallah_!' responded Kacheche decisively. 'We must have Robert along with us, otherwise the white men won't understand us.'" What wonderful devotion! What sublime self-forgetfulness! The world has wept over such stories as Bianca and Heloise, and has built monuments that will stand,-- "_While Fame her record keeps, Or Homer paints the hallowed spot Where Valor proudly sleeps_,"-- and yet these black heroes are unremembered. "I will follow the track like a leopard," gives but a faint idea of the strong will of Uledi; and Kacheche's brave words are endowed with all the attributes of that heroic _abandon_ with which a devoted general hurls the last fragment of wasting strength against a stubborn enemy. And besides, there is something so tender in these words that they seem to melt the heart. "We will walk and walk, and when we cannot walk we will crawl!" We have never read but one story that approaches this narrative of Mr. Stanley, and that was the tender devotion of Ruth to her mother-in-law. We read it in the Hebrew to Dr. O.S. Stearns of Newton, Mass.; and confess that, though it has been many years since, the blessed impression still remains, and our confidence in humanity is strengthened thereby. Here are a few white men in the wilds of Africa, surrounded by the uncivilized children of the desert. They have money and valuable instruments, a large variety of gewgaws that possessed the power of charming the fancy of the average savage; and therefore the whites would have been a tempting prey to the blacks. But not a hair of their head was harmed. The white men had geographical fame to encourage them in the struggle,--friends and loved ones far away beyond the beautiful blue sea. These poor savages had nothing to steady their purposes save a paltry sum of money as day-wages,--no home, no friends; and yet they were as loyal as if a throne were awaiting them. No, no! nothing waited on their heroic devotion to a magnificent cause but a lonely death when they had brought the "master" to the sea. When their stomachs, pinched by hunger; when their limbs, stiff from travel; when their eyes, dim with the mists of death; when every vital force was slain by an heroic ambition to serve the great Stanley; when the fires of endeavor were burnt to feeble embers,--then, and only then, would these faithful Negroes fail in the fulfilment of their mission, so full of peril, and yet so grateful to them, because it was in the line of _duty_. Cicero urged virtue as necessary to effective oratory. The great majority of Negroes in Africa are both orators and logicians. A people who have such noble qualities as this race seems to possess has, as a logical necessity, the poetic element in a large degree.