Acting under heavy pressure brought to bear upon it by the anti-slavery humanitarians in England the British Government coerced the Khedive of Egypt into signing a convention having for its object the suppression of slavery within his dominions. In order to carry out the engagement into which he had entered, the Khedive appointed General Gordon Governor of the Soudan, and that remarkable man, during the six years that he held that office, displayed so much energy and skill that he succeeded in utterly eradicating the evil throughout the entire region placed under his control. Nevertheless, the general result was not so good as had been hoped for; the slave-traders, despoiled of their hunting-grounds in the Egyptian Soudan, pursuing their nefarious occupation with redoubled vigour on Lake Tanganyika and the Upper Congo. With what extremity of horror they conducted their operations has been so graphically described by a Belgian merchant, M. Hodister, that we make no apology for quoting his account in full. It is four o’clock in the morning [says M. Hodister]. A great calm prevails, only the soft and melancholy cry of the African owl is to be heard. The village sentinels are either withdrawn, or squatting low, asleep; the houses are closed; every one sleeps; all is repose; the sense of security is absolute. Suddenly the sound of a gun, then cries of terror are raised, breaking the great silence, followed by a fusillade, which seems to come from all sides, piercing the straw walls. The boatmen have fired, leaving their canoes to their women; they have rushed forward, attacking the village in front, while the others are assailing it from the rear. The inhabitants, suddenly roused from their sleep, rush terrified from their houses. They are panic-stricken, and forget wives, children, everything. Their one thought is of flight—to conceal themselves in the wood. The panic is at its height; rifle shots, horrible cries, resound, mixing with the shrieks of fear from the women and children. Then follow the stifled noise of a struggle at close quarters, of falling bodies, a suppressed groan, sharp cries of agony. The ground shakes under the tread of the combatants and fugitives. Soon afterwards appears a star in the blackness of the night, and a dry, crackling sound is heard. It is a detached hut fired by the enemy to light them in their work without the risk of burning the whole village. Before doing that, they wish to pillage it. Meanwhile, a few of the inhabitants have seized their weapons and attempt some resistance; but in a little time this is overcome by superior numbers. To the noise of the fight succeed the cries of the prisoners, of the wounded and the dying. The horizon lightens; the sun has risen suddenly and illumined this field of carnage and desolation. Then the Arabs kill the wounded, bind their prisoners, and begin to plunder the village. Every house is visited