public minstrels,--1,
those who play such vulgar instruments as the flute and
drum; 2, those who play on the ballafond, which is the
marimba of Angola and South America, and on the harp; 3,
those who sing the legends and battle-songs of their
country, or who improvise satires or panegyrics. This last
class are dreaded, though despised. They are richly rewarded
in their lifetime, but after death they are not even given a
decent burial. If they were buried in the ground, it would
become barren; if in the river, the water would be poisoned,
and the fish would die: so they are buried in hollow trees.

_The idyllic poetry_ of Africa is very beautiful in its gorgeous
native dress. It requires some knowledge of their mythology in order
to thoroughly understand all their figures of speech. The following
song is descriptive of the white man, and is the production of a
Bushman.

"_In the blue palace of the deep sea
Dwells a strange creature:
His skin as white as salt;
His hair long and tangled as the sea-weed.
He is more great than the princes of the earth;
He is clothed with the skins of fishes,--
Fishes more beautiful than birds.
His house is built of brass rods;
His garden is a forest of tobacco.
On his soil white beads are scattered
Like sand-grains on the seashore._"

The following idyl, extemporized by one of Stanley's black soldiers,
on the occasion of reaching Lake Nyanza, possesses more energy of
movement, perspicuity of style, and warm, glowing imagery, than any
song of its character we have yet met with from the lips of unlettered
Negroes. It is certainly a noble song of triumph. It swells as it
rises in its mission of praise. It breathes the same victorious air of
the song of Miriam: "_Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed
gloriously; the horse and the rider hath he thrown into the sea_." And
in the last verse the child-nature of the singer riots like "The May
Queen" of Tennyson.

THE SONG OF TRIUMPH.

"Sing, O friends, sing; the journey is ended:
Sing aloud, O friends; sing to the great Nyanza.
Sing all, sing loud, O friends, sing to the great sea;
Give your last look to the lands behind, and then turn to the sea.

Long time ago you left your lands,
Your wives and children, your brothers and your friends;
Tell me, have you seen a sea like this
Since you left the great salt s