slowing, comes to a halt before a long, low station building on which is the word “Khartoum.” Like another Phœnix, Khartoum has risen from its ashes on the site of that city which formed the funeral pyre of the heroic Gordon. The name—“elephant's trunk”—refers to the shape of the long peninsula on which the city stands and which forms the point of separation of the Nile into its Blue and White branches. It is a brand-new city which the British engineers have constructed; a city with a ground plan as mathematically laid out and with streets as broad as Washington; a city with pavements and sidewalks and gutters and sewers and lighting facilities on the most modern lines. As all the buildings are of a dust-coloured brick, the business portion of the city has a certain air of substantial permanence, but so uncompromising is the architecture and so destitute of shade are the streets that it looks more like a Russian penal settlement than like an African capital. In the residential quarter, however, the picturesque has not been sacrificed to the utilitarian, for along the bank of the Blue Nile a splendid boulevard—a sort of African Riverside Drive—has been constructed, and here no business or commercial trespass will be permitted, for from the Grand Hotel to the Palace, a distance of a mile or more, it is lined with the residences of the British officials, low-roofed, broad-verandaed bungalows nestling in luxuriant gardens. The thing that impresses one most about Khartoum is the extraordinary width of its streets and diagonal avenues and the frequency of its open circles, but the British will tell you quite frankly that military considerations, rather than beauty, guided them in planning it and that a few field-guns, properly placed, can sweep the entire city. There are two buildings in Khartoum which seem to me to be more significant of the new era which has begun for the Sudan than all the other features of the city combined. One is the Gordon Memorial College, built with the object of training the sons of the Sudanese sheikhs and chieftains along those lines which are best calculated to make for the future peace, progress, and prosperity of the country. With his laurels as the victor of Omdurman still fresh upon him, Lord Kitchener appealed to his countrymen for one hundred thousand pounds for the establishment of this institution, which he felt that England owed to the memory of Gordon, and, so prompt and general was the response, the entire sum was subscribed within a few days. The other building to which I referred is the recently completed Anglican Cathedral, which stands as a recognition of Gordon's great work as a missionary and as an impressive exhibition of the advance of the Christian faith. Could Gordon have returned to life on the occasion of the consecration of this cathedral, and have seen harmoniously gathered beneath its lofty roof religious dignitaries of such different minds and faiths as the Bishop of London, the Coptic