GRANDY.  “Ah! poor Africa is cursed with evils, unknown to the rest of the human race in any section of the globe—­reptiles of the most deadly venom, beasts of unparalleled ferocity, deserts of sand, and moral deserts a thousand times more appalling.  But her greatest curse of all is the white man’s cupidity, tearing asunder the tenderest ties of human nature, and plunging villages and families into mourning and despair.  The hyena, the tiger, the crocodile, are creatures existing by the will of God; the man-stealer is a sin-created monster!  The depredations of the former are the effects of hunger; those of the latter avarice—­the meanest passion that can enter the human breast.”

MR. WILTON.  “It is now sixty years since Great Britain commenced offensive warfare against the African slave-trade; but grieved am I to say that little good has resulted from it; for the slave-trade is still carried on as extensively as ever.  Our ships, which are continually on the look-out to recapture the slave-vessels, scarcely ever take more than fifteen in the course of twelve months; and the cost of maintaining this force to our country is 600,000_l_. annually.  This money, in my humble opinion, might be more advantageously laid out—­mean in reference to this degraded and demoralized quarter of the world, Africa.  It might be expended in planting industry, knowledge, and security; in fact, in civilizing the wretched people; and surely that would more effectually check the slave-trade than the occasional capture of one or two cargoes.  For the African slave-trade is not the cause, but the effect, of African ignorance, as any wretched creature there will seize and sell his more wretched neighbor for the paltry sum of a dollar.”

MRS. WILTON.  “This civilization will take years to effect; for deep-rooted evils cannot be destroyed in a day, among an ignorant and prejudiced people.”

EMMA.  “We are at Fish Bay.  Dora, will you continue.”

DORA.  “Yes:  Fish Bay is one of the finest places in the world for fishing with a ‘seine,’ by which thousands of barrels of excellent fish are caught in the course of the year.”

GEORGE.  “What sort of a town is Benguela?”

DORA.  “Small:  it consists of not more than 200 houses, mostly one story high.  Everything good to eat can be procured here; but there is no good water, except in the rainy season.”

MR. STANLEY.  “Then we had better make all sail, and get away, for it would be sad work to be becalmed with—­

  ‘Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink.’

While we are in these latitudes, we may as well visit the two islands, which look so tempting after a long voyage on the great Atlantic.  Come boys:  St. Helena for Charles—­Ascension for George.”