and "the extraordinary fascination which Africa exerts over all Europeans who fall into her meshes" has, you can see, been experienced at a physical price. Yet is he still much the same man that we had imagined him to be from sight of his early portrait. You can see his youthful self in the man grown older and matured. He is cheery, optimistic, pleasant in voice and manner, fluent of speech, tactful, confident, brimful of knowledge and the harvest of ten thousand experiences. There is no hardness, no trace of that austerity which characterised Livingstone (say) or Rhodes. The impression he gives is of mastery, not power; of being supremely able rather than great. Looking at him you can judge quickly that his success as traveller and administrator has been attained, not by iron methods, but by the gentler means of kindliness and sympathy. He has no need to tell you that colour prejudices him nothing; that he would treat the black as a brother, and protect him from the insolences of the dominant, and often inferior, white; that he believes in diplomacy more than coercion, treaties rather than Krupp guns and Maxims. Nor, indeed, need he tell you that he appreciates also the ways of the iron men, the Kitcheners and Stanleys, the Bismarcks, the Livingstones. He understands that austerity has its value in the world (could himself on occasion be austere enough: witness, for example, his treatment of Tmosé, a noted slave dealer, whose fate he recorded in a telegram to Lord Salisbury, "Advanced against Tmosé, defeated, captured, hanged him.-Johnston."), that in dealing with savage and Christian it is necessary often to pluck the mailed fist from the velvet glove. He, too, has had to trample in his day; has smelt powder, and faced death at the barricades of treacherous chieftains. And in him is the blood of British soldiers.

Sir Harry comes of Scotch and Irish descent. Far back his family sprang from the famous Annandales. His father was true Scotch, his mother came of the Irish Hamiltons. His greatgrandfather fought in Canada towards the middle of the 18th century, served under the renowned Elliot (afterwards Lord Heathfield) during the great siege of Gibraltar in 1779—1783; then, having disposed of some property in Glasgow which now, as Sir Harry ruefully judges, must be worth millions, spent his declining years in forming the first of our English Volunteer Corps. His grandfather was secretary to the Royal Exchange; his father was secretary to the Royal Insurance Company, an enthusiastic traveller, and one of the original Fellows of the Royal Geographical Society.

Like so many other men who have led adventurous lives, Sir Harry was born in London, in the suburban district of Kenning

ton, June 12th, 1858. A weakly child, of a quiet and thoughtful turn of mind, given to much reading of romances and to overmuch dreaming about them, he was exceptionally fortunate in his home life and training. Quite early he developed a talent for drawing-so that, as he says, he must have been born with a pencil in his hand-and this talent he derives from his grandmother, herself an amateur painter of distinction, and one of the first women who studied at the Royal Academy School. His earlier years were spent in an atmosphere of art, with occasional breaths from the outside worlds of science and travel-accounts by his father of some journey he had taken or some lecture heard, stories of travellers, whispers of great discoveries. At intervals some famous man in the world, a great scholar or painter, would visit at his home, and get boyish admiration and worship. Presently he also became an Academy student, and went to the South Kensington Art Schools; at these places gaining that facility with pencil and brush which afterwards was to serve him (and us) 80 well.

But other influences were at work. With his father he attended the meetings of the Royal Geographical Society; there he probably heard Livingstone speak of those marvellous experiences which he himself was one day to record; there of a certainty had awakened his interest in travel and in the wonders of that mighty Dark Continent, round which already the greedy Powers were gathering to the spoil. Also he gave himself eagerly and successfully to the study of natural science; he, meanwhile, passing upwards through Stockwell Grammar School to the classes at King's College, and on to biological studies, under Professor Garrod, at the Zoological Gardens. In due time he became a gold medallist of the Royal Scottish Geographical Society, a medallist of the Zoological Society and South Kensington School of Art; eventually gaining the distinction of Doctor of Science, Cambridge.

Admirable as all these studies and influences were in the way of equipment for our future administrator, yet more was needed. Art was good in its way, training the lad to observe and record; science supplied much, developing him on the practical side and widening his interest in life and things; constant attendance with his father at the grave deliberations of scholars and travellers, his father's counsel, example, experience, all this supplied much more that was valuable and essential; but there was needed, besides some personal knowledge of that portion of the universe which is not England, an acquaintance with modern languages sufficient to carry him boldly about the world. And in this particular also was fortune kindly. To his home in Kennington came many whose stories of doings in foreign

parts fed his natural craving to go out adventuring. At a private school in Surbiton he got excellent practical instruction in the chief European languages. And, in his eighteenth year, as much by way of looking around him as of furthering his linguistic studies, he went alone on a long journey through the Balearic Islands, and Spain, and Portugal; working always as he went, observing, sketching, noting, joining in conversation with all who would converse, adding gradually to his knowledge of men and the world. By such means has it come about that to-day Sir Harry Johnston is one of the most accomplished linguists in Europe, speaking French, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Arabic, and a score of African dialects; by such methods of education and training was he fitted for the career in which his success has not been greater than deserved.

Returning from his travels, young Johnston resumed his studies in art at the Academy and South Kensington, pursued with vigour his work in science, and at King's College prepared himself for residence in Cambridge University. So for about a year it was with him; then, all suddenly, his health failed, and unwillingly he went to recuperate in the genial climate of Tunis. This was during the winter of 1879-80-the turning period of Johnston's life.

During his stay at Tunis he began to take wide interest not only in African affairs, but in the affairs of the British Empire. With many other youths of his breeding and education, he was then a Tory to the marrow; a strong Imperialist, whose political eye ranged a proud Empire, burdened with money and ships, on which the regal sun never set. He had pride in himself as a Briton, pride in the world-scattered dominion over which the White Queen ruled. But in the spring of 1880, Mr. Gladstone and the Liberals were returned to power; and with that happening came to the young Imperialist a feeling of dismay. Were not these Liberals well-named Little Englanders? Was not Gladstone the detestation of all sons of Empire, a man whose just fate would be hanging? He felt sure, and in his feeling was not alone just then, that something dire was in store for his country. He fretted and brooded; at last, one fateful day, asked himself whether, the affairs of his country being in a condition so parlous, it behoved him to sit frittering away good energy over miserable problems in science and art? If the Empire was in danger, why not serve the Empire? If men were wanted, why not play the man? Thereafter he was vowed to his country's service.

But vowing is one thing, doing another; and soon Johnston discovered that England has no quick welcome even for those who are burning to serve her. Her method is to wait and watch,

prove and select. It is not enough that a man should show himself master of a dozen languages, an adept in science and art, a diplomatist born, with enthusiasm, ambition, knowledge; he must yet be tested and proven in hard ordeal of patient serving. To England's political service is no open door. Wealth, maybe, or influence, can, on occasion, push back the door a little; but for men like Johnston, having small influence, and no large share of wealth, there is no help save his own efforts.

It was in 1882, after a period of waiting spent to some extent in the service of London editors, that Johnston's chance came. In that year, Lord Mayo, known as the author of Sport in Abyssinia, and De Rebus Africanis, selected Johnston, as the most qualified young man within his knowledge, to go as travelling companion on a journey through the district south of the Congo. Together they explored the river Kunene in South-West Africa, and spent some adventurous months in Portuguese territory; then parted company, Lord Mayo returning home, Johnston remaining to continue his travels alone, through Angola, over Portuguese Guiana, and up the Congo.

His journey through Portuguese West Africa and into Congoland was made in 1882—3; and its consequences were momentous. In itself the Congo Expedition, although it went no further than Bolobo, was something of an achievement. Johnston was only twenty-four years old. His experience of Africa was not great. His purse was short, and behind him was no syndicate of wealthy enthusiasts. He went right in the track down which Stanley had come on his memorable journey, and was probably the first white man who, as he says in the dedication of his book, had endeavoured to bring "for the world's inspection some samples from the unworked mines of information . . . whose wealth the great explorer had perforce to leave behind him on his rapid march." But the fates were kindly. Stanley himself, just then establishing his trading stations along the river, was more than kind. He lent Johnston boats and men, gave him advice and hospitality. Already the natives were awakened to the uses of the white man. With pencil and pen Johnston went boldly among them, observing, recording; and the result you may find in the book which records his journey. It is full of information, picturesque description, abundant illustration. Its "samples of wealth" are indeed abundant. Through it Johnston made known to the world what Stanley had really achieved, what splendid work he had done, and what great consequences must come of his work. It was received well. It drew the attention of the English authorities. And when afterwards the Government wished for

information on certain points connected with a proposed treaty with Portugal, it was Johnston who gave it.

On his return to England, Johnston, on the recommendation of Sir John Kirk, and with the approval of the Foreign Office, was selected by the Royal Society and the British Association to conduct a scientific expedition to Kilimanjaro, the holy mountain of Eastern Africa. The expedition started in 1884, and, both from a scientific and a political point of view, was quite successful. In the book which contains Johnston's record of the journey, may be found a complete account of his work. Full and extended lists of the flora and fauna of Kilimanjaro and its district testify to his doings as a scientist; hundreds of illustrations (some of them crude enough, some very good) give the young painter's impressions of what he saw; everywhere in his account of the natives and of the country, their history, appearance, customs, religions, is much evidence of the interest in things African and Imperial which now was kindled in the coming administrator. Often in course of his wanderings he pauses to ponder the land before him and to dream of its future-"that continent," as he "which says, I look upon as the new world of the nineteenth century "-here setting a splendid colony on the slopes of Kilimanjaro, "colonised by a superior race and with fair cities springing on its breezy heights"; there in imagination founding “a great city of civilisation which should rise on these grassy slopes and dominate the cultivable land below"; elsewhere standing on one of the seven hills of my African Rome and pondering on the possibilities of its existence." A little imagination is a vital thing in artist or statesman.

But interesting as were Johnston's dreams and valuable his labours in the interests of science, it was not this or that which found him favour in the eyes of the British Government; not these, but the reports on the country which he forwarded to the Foreign Office, and, better still, the treaties which he was able to make with some of the native chiefs. His reports the Foreign Office commended; his treaties won official approval. Annexation, or Protection as the term is, of the Kilimanjaro region was considered practicable and probable. But diplomatic obstacles In the event Kilimanjaro fell to Germany; nevertheless, the political work which Johnston did in course of his journey may be regarded as the preliminary step towards the creation of the British East African Protectorate. Not ill-work this for an aspirant to Consular honours, aged only twenty-six.

arose.

His first Consular appointment was to the administration of the interesting little settlement of Ambas Bay, on the flanks of the mighty Cameroon mountains; the settlement which had been