a waterless, treeless, cornless desert of sand, salt, and stone, right up to the higher land, whence the Niger, after its northernmost bend, tends sharply south. The sea certainly reached there once, for there are the Atlantic shells to prove it, and probably in very recent times, — that is, times within reach of the rumours on which ancient geographers based their maps. This dream may of course be a dream, and nothing better. The floor of El Juff may prove to be many yards higher than geographers think it is. The bar may be fifty miles across, instead of only eight. The expense of cutting only eight miles may turn out to be impossible, without the assistance of rulers who want all their revenues to improve their power of killing other homicides; but still the evidence has been studied by experts, who are not prepared to reject it, and the possibility is amply sufficient to justify determined exploration, and that is all that we are at present advocating. Grant that the idea of refilling the inland sea is fantastic, and that no engineering work worth doing can be attempted in the Sahara, and that Sir A. Cotton, who pledges himself to the physical practicability of the scheme, is influenced by his permanent belief that water, as well as faith, can remove mountains, still the Mackenzie Expedition is thoroughly worthy the active support of all interested in understanding the planet they live on. Suppose some millionaire makes it his own, supports the expedition himself, and so links his name into modern history! He will not, it may be, get any percentages, though percentages are possible through the enterprise too; but he will acquire a reputation, a separate place in the world, which many men value more, and a new and permanent interest in life. It is something to make a hidden continent accessible to Europe, though only by caravan, and may be the means of enabling his successors to accomplish much more. A direct water-route into the heart of Africa, — that is a dream on which kings might spend fortunes, and never be taunted either with ignoble or fantastic expenditure.
RETORTS COURTEOUS.
The aim and end of a retort is to show that the object of it has been satirizing or attacking himself, and has been absurdly exhibiting his own weakness instead — in other words, has been hoisting himself, like the Shakespearian engineer, on his own petard. Dr. Johnson was a master in this art, though in truth most of his sledge-hammer blows were rather direct attacks, provoked by some foolish speech, and directed more against the person himself and his known views and character. They lack proportion, and are too hostile. It might seem that with a theoretically perfect man, who was careful to be consistent in every word and act, there would be no room for retort, and that in presence of such even a Johnson would lose his occupation. But the utter silence of such a being is a challenge; his bearing even is a sort of utterance which can furnish a material for a good retort. On the whole, the practised retorter, like the good batsman, must have a bowler, to whom he can send back the flying ball.
A good school for retort might be the street, where it is in high favour among coachmen, omnibus conductors, etc., who are surprisingly ready. Here the requisite coarseness may be learned. But the legitimate elements of retort are wanting. It will be seen that it is more recrimination than pure retort that is cultivated, as the reply to the jeering remark on some blemish is the loud proclamation of another blemish. Here the two missiles cross each other and do damage, instead of one being caught and hurled back. Johnson's famous and unapproachable sally when engaged in slanging the waterman on the river was of this kind. Nothing finer in its way can be conceived. "Your mother," he roared, in answer to some insult, "under pretence of keeping a disreputable house is a receiver of stolen goods." (The exact text was somewhat coarser.) Here the selection of "your mother" for vituperation, the accusation of pretence at respectability, the carrying on one disgraceful calling by concealing it under another as disgraceful, the readiness and appropriateness of the reply, all joined to make it crushing and overwhelming.
When we hear a "good thing" said at a dinner-party the enjoyment perhaps arises from the sense of spontaneousness and admiration at the "preparedness " of the speaker, who may have been taken at a disadvantage. Most piquant, however, is the situation when one who has been "tossed and gored," suddenly springs to his feet, and extricates himself brilliantly. In such a case there is no brilliant firing
