Life And Work Of David Livingstone: The Factory Boy Who Became A Great Missionary
James Joseph Ellis
Table of Contents
Life and Work of David Livingstone.
CHAPTER 1
FROM THE ISLAND OF ULVA; THE CHILD ON THE DOORSTEP
“Ulva dark, and Colonsay,
And all the group of islets gay
That guard famed Staffa round.”
“Learn how sublime a thing it is
To suffer and be strong.”
“I leave this precept with you—Be honest.”
OUR David went to the works last week, father said Agnes Livingstone to her father, David Hunter. "He's but a little lad to begin the toil that always falls to the poor. It went to my heart like a knife; and yet I was as proud as a queen, when last Saturday night he brought me his first week's wages, a whole half-crown, and threw it into my lap. Not a penny did he take from it for himself: yes, he is loving and winsome, like his father.”
“A wife should always speak fair of her goodman, Agnes!" said her father, as he sat cross-legged upon his board. "Twere better than making complaint of what wives might mend by a little kindness, as many in Blantyre won't do. Yet Neil deserves you, though he won you from me.”
“Nay, father, I am all that I used to be; he only gave you a son as well as a daughter.”
“And seven little ones, too, to fill the old man's heart; God's blessing upon their curly head!" said the old man, removing his spectacles. "They come here and rummage my books over; and ‘let them,' say I. I'm so pleased when they do it; it's like getting new books to see them so pleased. And they are getting to understand them too. I'm glad that your husband himself reads, and sets them reading too.”
“Yes, he ever likes to know about what is going on in the world; and 'tis his stories of what has been or is happening in other lands that makes the little ones crave for knowledge.”
“You were a good daughter, Agnes; only fifteen years old when your mother died, but our minister said, when he saw your kindness to her that's gone, A blessing will follow the lassie.”
“And it has done so, for I count it no small blessing to be wed to a good man like my Neil. Marriage is a hard thing, when husband and wife are ill-mated; but when we are one in the Lord, it is as nigh heaven as may be here below. It's main hard I know to make the little bit o' money answer all our needs; but when he comes In from his rounds, however worried I am, I forget all about it and about his tea-selling; and his gentle, winning face looks like an angel's.”
“I mind when his father brought him to me to learn the tailoring, I saw he was no common man. Little Davie Livingstone must be more than ten years old now?”
“Yes, father, yet it seems but the other day since, when Neil shut the door at dusk thinking all the family were within doors, little Davie, who had been out rambling among the quarries, asking the men strange questions about the fishes and other odd fossils in the rocks, when he found the door closed took out his crust of bread and sat down upon the doorstep without a murmur. I looked from the window, and there he sat as contented as if he had been born there! If I hadn't missed him, he would never have complained.”
“But I wouldn't let him sit up too late at night reading, as Charles tells me he does; you must limit him or he will wear himself out.”
“He has taken his book with him to the works, and says when he's promoted from being a piecer to be a spinner, he will put his book upon the spinning jenny and so learn.”
“There is an evening school to be opened at John M’Nab's, let him go there. Buy him a Ruddiman's Rudiments of Latin,' and let him go.”
“I will; and he is so attentive at service, I am hopeful that a work of grace has begun with him.”
“I wish Neil had not left the Established church, though. I like it not that he should be a deacon of the Independent church at Hamilton. I love the Presbytery, and mind me when a boy of eighteen I stood to hear Secession Erskine preach. Snow was falling at the time, and it lay ankle deep before the sermon ended, but I felt no cold, and got no harm. Then the word of the Lord went to my heart like a fire, and I knew myself a lost, helpless sinner at the feet of Jesus. How I groaned to know my sins forgiven I How grievous sin appeared to me! But it was not for a long time, indeed, until I hearkened to Erskine again, when he preached upon the Balm of Gilead, that my deadly wound was healed. Blessed be God I He hath healed my soul through the blood of Jesus Christ, which cleanses from all sin.
“I'm not quite of your husband's mind, Agnes, about drink, nor for the matter of that do I quite agree with his Sunday School. I think a man ought to be able to exercise habits of control, and that the children ought to be taught at their own firesides. No teaching, I think, is like that of the parents. Solomon learned the way of the Lord from his mother, ye know.”
“Yes, father; but Neil has seen so much of the evil that drink has done, and he says no child of his shall say, My father took it; and none of the children have ever tasted it. I say now, that I would rather see him with us on the Sabbath; but so many parents neglect their duty of teaching their children Christian ways or do it so badly, that we should be sadly off without Sunday School teachers like my Neil. And as he goes about the country selling tea, he gives away tracts and encourages the reading of good books. When the day of the Lord comes, perhaps, my husband will be found to have done more work for God than many a man who had his reward In the praises of men or their gifts.”
“Ay truly, the world would have lost much had it not been for workers whose names are never known below. ‘Tis my faith, Agnes, that if we do our duty faithfully, it will bless not only the people in Blantyre, but may even have some influence upon the world at large.”
In the little village of Blantyre, on the beautiful banks of the Clyde, near Glasgow, DAVID LIVINGSTONE, the famous African missionary and traveler, was born on the 19th March, 1813. He was the second son of Neil Livingstone and Agnes Hunter.
Livingstone's grandfather had been a crofter in Ulva, a small island in the Western Hebrides, where his son Neil was born. Finding the croft insufficient to maintain his family, he removed to Blantyre about 1792, and found employment in the large cotton factory there, several of his sons also becoming connected with the same works.
When Neil Livingstone (who had formerly been a clerk in the factory) married, he began business on his own account as a traveling tea dealer; but the returns from the trade were so small that it was found necessary to send his children to work at a very early age. Although thus unable even to allow them the full advantage of the education provided by the parish school, both parents showed to them from infancy an example of constant piety that was of far greater value than mere book-learning.
When Neil's father died he called all his sons around him, and told them how his own father had died at Culloden fighting for the misguided Stuarts. The old man described six generations of Livingstones, and concluded with the following remarkable and earnest words: “I have searched into our past, but I cannot discover one dishonest man among all our ancestors. If, therefore, any of you, or any of your children, should take to dishonest ways, it will not be because it was in our blood; it does not belong to you. I leave this precept with you —BE HONEST.”
At the age of nineteen David Livingstone became a cotton spinner, and having by the instruction of Dick's "Philosophy of a Future State" been brought to a saving knowledge of Christ, in whom he now cherished a living faith, he began to prepare himself for missionary work in China, by studying at the Glasgow University. He toiled during the summer at the factory, and studied during the winter, his lodgings costing him 2s. 6d. per week while in Glasgow. He turned his attention to medicine, and having obtained his diploma, came to London in September, 1838, to see the Directors of the London Missionary Society, by whom he hoped to be sent to China.
As he bade farewell to his family, for what, at that time, was a very long journey, David Hogg, a patriarch of the village, shook hands with the young doctor, and said “Now lad! make religion the every-day business of your life; and not a thing of fits and starts; for, if you do not, temptation and other things will get the better of you.”
“I will," said David Livingston; and he kept his word.
The opium war, one of the most iniquitous wars ever waged by Britain, having closed China, by chance-as men say—Livingstone met Moffat, then visiting England for the first time, and decided upon Africa as the scene of his future work. So we are decided by trifles, as men call them; trifles that are the turntables or points, perhaps, by which a life is transferred to another line of rails, with consequences none can foresee!
After a severe illness, which compelled David to return to Scotland on the 17th November, 1839, Neil Livingstone stood upon the Broomielaw Bridge in Glasgow, looking for the last time upon the face of his son, going by the Liverpool steamer to England. On the 20th November David was ordained, and on the 8th December he started for Africa. During the three months' voyage, in the course of which they touched at Rio de Janeiro, Livingstone studied theology. Upon arriving at the Cape he proceeded at once to Algoa Bay, and thence went to the Kuruman, the little paradise created in the desert by the hard toil of Moffat and Hamilton.
As day after day no precise orders came from London, Livingstone began to contemplate the possibility of proceeding as a missionary into Abyssinia, saying to his friends, "Wherever my life may be spent, so as but to promote the glory of our gracious God, I feel anxious to do it. My life may be spent as profitably as a pioneer as in any other way.”
So now and then the spirit catches a glimpse of its future, which is indeed made ours by the desires and longings which are part of the work of God within us.
Chapter 2
THE BACHELOR WHO CHANGED HIS MIND; OR, LOVE STRONGER THAN LIONS
“Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,
For love is heaven, and heaven is love!”
“How often one dead joy appears
The platform of some better hope.”
DO tell me about that dreadful lion! What did you think of when he seized you?" asked Mary Moffat, as she walked with David Livingstone through the garden created at the Kuruman by her father's toil and skill.
“I was thinking what part of me he would eat first," was the reply.
“But do tell me about it," said Mary. "We have had our share of danger, but I have not before heard a story just like yours.”
“I will try to do so," he answered. “Soon after my arrival here, while waiting for your return from England, I made a tour of 700 miles to view the country. I saw one thing very clearly, that it was no good for white men to crowd together into the South; they must go right into the interior, and open up the deserts, or whatever there may be northward. And I saw that we must reach the people by native agency if we meant to do permanent good. I remember once, on my first journey, I had just left a village about 150 miles from this place; after we had got 10 or 11 miles on our way, a little girl about 11 or 12 years of age ran after our wagon. She had lived some years with a sister who had died. Then strangers took possession of the child, and determined to sell her for their own advantage. They loaded her with beads to make her fetch a higher price. How the little thing sobbed and begged me not to let her be sold! We gave the man all the beads she had on and brought her here. I determined she should not be taken by force. In 1842 I went again into the interior of the Bechuana country, and while passing through the great Kalahari desert, during my stay at Sekomi's village, a woman was devoured by a lion while walking in her garden. Oh, it was fearful to hear her poor children sobbing for her. The valleys resounded with their cries, like the mourning of the African people in sorrow without God!”
“Poor creatures I but what has that to do with your accident? You are giving me an account of your adventures here. I did not ask you to do so.”
“No, but I want to do so for a reason that I have. The chief Sekomi once came to me and said, 'I wish you would change my heart. Give me medicine to change it, for it is proud and angry, proud and angry always.' I lifted my New Testament, but he stopped me and said, I don't want your teaching; I want something to drink, which will at once change my heart, for it is always proud, uneasy, and angry with someone: please give me something to drink.' Poor fellow, I could not make him understand that God alone can change the heart.
“During my wagon journey through the interior of the Bechuana country, I was amused to hear the natives talking about me. They did not know that I understood their speech and heard them say, He is not strong, he is quite, slim, and only appears stout because he puts bags on his legs, he'll soon knock up.' This put me on my mettle and I kept them at the top of their speed for several days until they had to confess themselves beaten. In 1843 I selected the beautiful valley of Mabotsa for a station; a lovely spot, but infested by lions which the natives believed belonged to another tribe, and were therefore hostile to them. Knowing that if one of a herd of lions is killed, the others leave the country, I went with them to try and kill one the next time they attacked the herds. The lions were on a small hill, about a quarter of a mile long, covered over with trees. We formed a circle and drew nearer the animals. The schoolmaster fired at one without hitting him, and the lion broke through the circle and got away. There were still two other lions on the hill but the natives let them escape also. As we were returning towards the village, I saw one of the lions sitting upon a rock with a bush in front of him and fired both barrels into his body. I began to load again, when he sprang upon me, seized me by the shoulder, and shook me as a dog does a rat. A sort of dreamy stupor crept over me.; I felt little pain, but was fully conscious of all that transpired. He had one paw on the back of my head bearing heavily upon me; but when one of our people fired at him, the lion left me and bit one man in the thigh and another in the shoulder. I had on a tartan jacket which I believe saved me from some of the virus, but besides crunching the bone to splinters he left eleven teeth wounds upon my arm.”
“And you came here to be nursed. Now you are cured, you will be going away and forgetting us all, I know!”
“When I was visiting the Bakhatla they allowed me to visit a native iron manufactory, but would not permit my companions to enter the hut, and can you guess the reason?”
“I am a bad hand at guessing, Mr. Livingstone.”
“Well, the reason they allowed me to enter the iron works, was because I was not married and therefore could not bewitch the iron.”
“Well, then, you had better get married as quickly as you can, only don't marry one of our best mission girls!”
“Perhaps someone I know would consent to share my lot at Mabotsa?”
“Oh, you mean Agnes, I suppose; well she is very staid, and her first husband gave her a good character.”
“I don't mean Agnes at all. Listen, Miss Moffat, I am very serious.
“I want to ask you a question-whether you, Mary Moffat, love me enough to become my wife, sharing my mission work at Mabotsa? I've looked carefully all round the question, and I think you will not regret consenting to share my joys and sorrows. No answer! Why do you turn your head? Tears!... Mary, darling, what is the matter? Oh, I understand now; there's no need to speak more about it. You wait here and I'll go and speak to Mr. Moffat and come right back to tell you what he says.”
In a short period he returned.
‘It’s all settled, Mary, "he said," your mother says, though, that it's a blessing I am a plain man. I'm going to start tomorrow to build a house with as many windows as I can put in.... But we must go in, for it is getting nearly supper-time. May God bless and hallow the engagement into which we have now entered, and may we both look to Jesus as our common Friend and Guide.”
After the house had been built by Livingstone's own hands, he brought Mary Moffat to it as his wife, and they commenced active efforts to preach the Gospel to the poor degraded natives.
Livingstone believed heartily in the services of native agents, and intended to found an academy to train preachers for service among their countrymen, but the scheme, through the opposition and jealousy of some of his fellow missionaries, fell through.
Sechele, the chief, went to see him one day, and said: "Look here! Do you ever imagine that the people will be converted by your preaching? I can make them do nothing for me without thrashing them; but if you like, I will call my herdmen out; with our whips of rhinoceros hide, we will soon put them right. I'll make Christians of the lot in a very short time.”
“But that is no good; we must strive to change their minds, then they will themselves alter their lives, O chief, seek the grace of God for thyself, and then seek to lead others to the Jesus who has cased you.”
“I do try, O friend! You have a heart that loves the black man; but you cannot tell how hard it is to get ideas into one's head. We never thought about anything after death before you came; so long as we had plenty of beef and beer, that was all we required. But I do try.”
The jealous folly of his colleague induced Livingstone to give up the house he had built, and upon which he had spent his year's salary of one hundred pounds, and make a new station at Chonwane, some forty miles inland from Mabotsa. Yet the committee at home did not render aid cheerfully in building a new house, though the Livingstones had borne such privations, that upon Mary Livingstone's returning to the Kuruman after two years' absence, the old women of the village crowded around her exclaiming: "Bless me, how lean she is! Has he starved her? Is there no food in the country to which she has been?”
The Livingstones did not stay long at Chonwane; removing to their third residence at Kolobeng, still further inland.
Rising with the sun, after worship, breakfast, and school Mary Livingstone occupied herself in household matters; for butter, candles, and soap had to be manufactured by her toil. After dinner she went off to an infant school. Livingstone himself was occupied by manual labors until about five o'clock, when after tea visits would be paid through the village, finishing the day with a prayer meeting in the house of the chief.
Thoroughly honest, Livingstone refused to form a church of merely nominal adherents; as a missionary he had little of showy success to display, but what success he had was real, and therefore worth all vaunted imitations.
“It is hard to keep on preaching the love of Christ to insensible hearts, but now I feel delight in dwelling upon the love of God, because as contemplated in the example of Christ it warms my own heart, Mary," he said one day to his wife.
“When you went yesterday, David, to help that poor fellow so fearfully injured by the rhinoceros, I was in much distress while you were away. I felt what risk you were running to try to help him, but I knew you would be preserved, because you went to do what you felt to be your duty; and I rejoiced in the love that I felt sure would watch over your path.”
“I came back safely though, dear wife," replied Livingstone. "I don't believe any danger should hinder us from doing what is right, and somehow I believe that God does and ever will protect us.”
In 1849 the long thought compelled the natives to leave the locality of Kolobeng, and Livingstone set out northwards to visit a powerful chief named Sebitaune, who lived beyond a great lake, and ruled one of the largest territories in Africa. Sechele agreed to accompany him, and as the women were compelled to be absent seeking locusts, the men also going long distances to hunt for food to supply the lack caused by the drought, Livingstone felt that he could leave his station, where indeed all Christian work was for the time impossible.
Chapter 3
ANYWHERE PROVIDED IT BE FORWARD; OR, THE MAN WHO CONQUERED CIRCUMSTANCES
“O little thought my mother,
The day she cradled me,
The lands I was to travel in,
Or the death I was to die.”
“Yet does a sense of weakness mar
Earth's noblest songs of praise.”
THIS is the third house I have built with my own hands, Mary; and the third that I have left for others to enjoy. Then there was the drain and watercourse by which we hoped the natives would be able to cultivate the soil," said Livingstone to his wife, one bright morning in June, 1849.
“Yes, it is hard, David. The enmity of the Boers prevents you teaching the people on the East, and it is evident that you must now penetrate into the unknown North.”
“The Boers have just sent a demand to the Cape for my recall I refused to teach the natives that they were inferior to the Boers, or to act as a spy on their behalf. On my last journey a party of armed Boers entered a village and demanded thirty women to weed their gardens. Of course they had no payment for the toil 'We permit them to live in our country,' said their leader, `only on condition that the black property work for us.' They have circulated a ridiculous story that I have given guns to the natives—you know I have scarcely one for myself—and have a cannon here, meaning our cooking pot.”
Accompanied by two English friends, Messrs. Murray and Oswell, Livingstone left Kolobeng, and coasted along the north-east border of the great Kalahari Desert. They were still three hundred miles from Lake Ngami, towards which they were journeying, when Mr. Oswell, who was in advance, suddenly shouted, "The water! the lake Hurray!”
“Twenty miles in circumference at least," said Livingstone. "How the waves dance in the setting sun What a splendid sheet of water!”
But when they endeavored to approach the supposed lake the illusion vanished, and instead of cooling and refreshing water they found a huge fire pan of sand, gleaming in the sun's setting rays. This appearance or mirage deceived them more than once before they reached the north end of the lake, which they first saw on the 1st August, 1849.
“How large is it; we cannot see the further shore?" asked Livingstone of the natives who gathered round him.
“It takes us three days to go round it," was the reply.
“Allowing twenty-five miles per day for the journey, that will be about seventy-five miles in circumference," observed Livingstone to his two English traveling companions.
“But what are we to do for food?" asked one of his friends.
“On the way," replied Livingstone, "the chief; instead of selling us cattle and sheep, offered us elephants' tusks. He said, 'White men, I know, are fond of bones. Batauana men want goats to eat themselves.' A man, the other day, when I gave him some apricots, in reply to my question as to whether he liked them, remarked, Did you ever taste white ant?' No,' said I. Then,' replied he, you don't know what is good. If you once tasted white ant you would never want to eat any better food ' “It is a strange country this Africa," said Mr. Oswell. "In one part the natives file their teeth so as to make them look like a footstool, in other parts they make them like the teeth of a saw.”
“But the women's head dresses amuse me," added Mr. Murray; "done into little ringlets that are afterward attached to a hoop. It looks like having a cartwheel round the head. Whatever singular fancy possesses the people to dress so?”
“Not a more singular custom than some of our own," replied Livingstone. "Nor do I think the putting of wooden blocks into the lips, as these people do, a bit more singular than our custom of wearing earrings. It is exactly the same principle, only one habit we have become accustomed to see and the other is as yet not imported into England.”
“May it never be.... But this chief is tiresome.”
“He will not give us guides to Sebitaune, to whom I am going," said Livingstone, "or let us hire his boats to cross the river. I will build a raft myself and get over the river in spite of him.”
But the only timber they could obtain was so rotten that, though Livingstone worked many hours in the water at great risk of his life from the alligators that abound in the stream, it was resolved at last to return to Kolobeng and to bring a boat from the Cape with them on a second journey.
Traveling along the banks of the river Zouga, which feeds the lake, they returned to Kolobeng. At that time elephants were so numerous in the district that ten tusks of ivory could be purchased for about fifteen shillings. They were delighted and amazed with the great trees, one being 70 feet in circumference, another bearing a fruit a foot long and three inches in diameter.
For the discovery of this lake and river the Royal Geographical Society voted Livingstone a sum of twenty-five guineas as a slight recognition of his splendid services.
In April, 1850, accompanied by his wife and their three children, Livingstone started again to visit Sebitaune. Sechele, the chief of Kolobeng, and some twenty natives accompanied the party, who were able to undertake the expedition because they were hindered from missionary work at that period, it being near the harvest time.
The journey, at their rate of about two and a-half miles per hour, was very tedious; trees had to be cut down to permit the ox wagon to pass, the oxen fell into pit-falls, and when at last they reached the lake the chief again refused to permit them to pass northwards as he had done the year previous. But the gift of a valuable rifle, upon which he had set his heart, at last induced him to alter his mind. A new difficulty arose from the outbreak of fever, which struck down two of his children, and compelled Livingstone reluctantly once more to return home.
“Never mind, Mary," he said, "try again does it." "That seems your favorite motto, David.”
“Yes, dear, try again generally conquers difficulties." A little daughter, who was born at this period, was cut off at the age of six weeks by an epidemic raging in the village. It was the first death in the happy circle, the first grave of many who have died for Africa.
“A sweet little creature with blue eyes, she was," said Livingstone to his friend, Mebalwe; "how one's affections quickly twine round a little stranger, and how keenly we miss her! 'Only a child!' I have heard people say, but do you know, I fancy one suffers more when the baby goes than when older friends leave us? Mrs. Livingstone, too, is so ill, and has paralysis of the right side of her face. I must take her to Kuruman to be nursed. When she is better, I will myself go to the Cape for a surgical operation; but before I try for personal relief, I will try to reach Sebitaune and his people called the Makololo.”
“Will you come back to live at Kolobeng “No; but if I can find a healthy spot in the interior there will I pitch my tent.”
In April, 1851, accompanied by his wife and family, Livingstone again set out northwards, Mr. Oswell being once more with them. It would have been dangerous to have left his family at Kolobeng, owing to the Boers, who hated missionaries and especially Livingstone. Rather than send the children to England, Livingstone preferred taking them with him in search of what he hoped would be a permanent home.
The children added to his anxiety as much as to his joy, for they suffered terribly from mosquito bites. Some bitterly anxious nights, too, the parents spent owing to the servants having wasted their supply of drinking water, which could not be obtained again for a long period.
Sebitaune received the travelers kindly. The tall olive-colored chief was the most affable and powerful monarch they had met in Africa. But all hope of settling permanently among the Makololo was frustrated by the death of Sebitaune, whose power passed to his daughter.
Accompanied still by Mr. Oswell, Livingstone went further north, and on the 3rd of August discovered the beautiful river Zambesi.
He was now compelled to turn his face southwards, being much disturbed by the hostile criticisms of many friends, who looked upon his course as wrong, especially condemning his taking his wife and children with him upon his journey.
“I have generally managed to think for myself and act accordingly," said Livingstone to his wife in reference to one critic. " I have occasionally met with people who have taken upon themselves to act for me, and they have offered their thoughts with an emphatic I think,' but I have generally excused them on the score of being a little soft-headed in believing that they could think both for me and for themselves. But Mary, I tell you what does so vex me. They seem in London to wonder that I can't convert men. I preach the Gospel to them, and I am sure that the people love me, but they are not willing to become Christians. I can't in truth say now there are fifty converted; and, therefore, they write to me from England, and say ` Be sure you press upon the people the fact that Christ loved them and died for them.' Just as if I did not understand better than people in London the needs of the native heart.”
“Never mind, David; we at least make no sham. It would be easy to get the people to say that they are converted, but what good would that do them?”
“None, Mary. I am resolved to continue doing my duty whatever it cost; and if I don't see any fruit come from it-well, I will not murmur. But I will not attempt to force emotions, to please any man, nor to allege results that are not real. Better wait forever without a single convert than to do this. There are some people who are never satisfied unless you are shouting out, Twenty souls converted; ' as if it were not Christ's work to lift these poor degraded people out of their unthinking savagery into a state of decency and self-respect. In Christian work I think it is as when one melts ice; a lot of heat goes to melt the ice, but the water is still cold; the heat, however, has not been wasted, because IT has been absorbed, then more heat will convert the water into steam. I'm now melting the ice; perhaps someone else will obtain the credit when the water boils.”
“Look at father at Kuruman. It seemed hopeless to expect a change, but he still kept on, and at last the people were converted.'
“Let us keep on too, Mary I will talk it over with your father when we go to Kuruman. Your father and mother are well worth consulting, and would be even if they did not belong to us, but were perfect strangers.”
“I should have liked to settle down with the Bakwains at Kolobeng, and live out my days in quiet service," said Livingstone to Mr. Moffat at the Kuruman, after his return from Sebitaune's country; "but when I got there I found the people so scattered by hunger and the Boers, that I feel Providence seems to call me to the regions beyond, and I will go north no matter who opposes.”
“We don't think you should give up your missionary work, though," replied his father-in-law. "I am a believer in the power of regular and patient work. Keeping on must win in the end; indeed, it is only persistent, untiring patience that will succeed in anything.”
“I am a missionary, heart and soul," replied Livingstone." God had one only Son, and He was a Missionary and a Physician. A poor, poor imitation of Him I am, but I wish to be like Him. In this service I hope to live, in it I hope to die, but I must obey what I feel to be the call of God.”
On 23rd April, 1852, he accordingly sent Mrs. Livingstone and her four children to England, it being perfectly impossible to permit them to grow up amidst the awful influences of heathenism, corrupt and immoral as those influences always are.
For two months after their departure Livingstone waited at the Cape. After having undergone the surgical operation he required, the authorities there did their utmost to prevent his penetrating into the interior.
On the 8th of June, 1852, he left the Cape, his wagon loaded to double its usual weight, through his good nature in taking packages for others. It was not until the 29th of August that he reached Kuruman. The breaking down of a wheel detained him at that place another fortnight; a providential hindrance which prevented his being killed. Had he reached Kolobeng as he hoped and intended, he would have been present at the attack which six hundred Boers, headed by Pretorius, made upon Kolobeng. Livingstone's house they completely gutted; tore the leaves out of the books; broke the medicine bottles; and carried off tea, coffee, cattle—in fact everything that was worth removal “At least £300 worth of property, and many of the things brought to the house by my wife when she was married!" he remarked. "And these men try to justify their deeds from Scripture!" added Mary Moffat, his mother-in-law.
“Never mind," he replied, "we shall remove the more easily, now that we are lightened of our furniture. They have taken away our sofa. After all, I seldom had a good rest upon it. We had only made it just before I left. Well, they have not taken away the stones; I can get a good seat upon one of them, in spite of the Boers, and sit with a merry heart, too, which doeth good like a medicine.”
“They mean to prevent your going into the interior," said Mary Moffat.
“Yes, but I mean to open up the country, or die in the attempt. I'll find a path or make one; and by God's grace will kill this awful slave trade. How these men can call themselves Christians and yet rob and slay the poor innocent natives, I can't understand. Said one of the Dutchmen to me, As well teach a parcel of baboons, as these black cattle.' But by God's grace I will set my foot down and defeat their plans. I will open the interior and destroy the slave trade.”
And he did as he said. Through his heroic labors this terrible scourge to humanity was exposed to the civilized nations of the world, and the first steps taken to root it out.
Chapter 4
ACROSS A CONTINENT; OR, THE REWARD OF SYMPATHY
“Who will penetrate through Africa?”
“It is a goodly thing to see
What heaven hath done for this delicious land
What fruits of fragrance blush on every tree!
What goodly prospects o'er the bills expand
“Martyrs, all things for Christ's sake resigning,
Lead on the march of death serenely brave.”
YOU are my father; leave me not! The Makololo desire the sleep of peace. O white brother, it is Sekelètu, the son of Sebitaune, who desires you! Bring Ma Robert, your wife, and live and die with us.”
“I must seek a healthier spot for my children than this valley. The country northward, perhaps, may suffer them to live; my heart is sore to leave you, but I cannot stay.”
“Then will I go with you. The men will fear me, the Great Lion, and I shall whiten my heart by your words.”
After the travelers had journeyed about sixty miles they met the half brother and secret enemy of the chief. Three times by apparent accidents his attempt to murder Sekelètu was frustrated, once by Livingstone covering the chief by his own body. This gave Livingstone even greater influence over the chief, who loved him as his own father. Yet when the party of one hundred and sixty proceeded up the beautiful Zambesi river, he could not prevent two men who had opposed the chief being hewn in pieces with axes, and their bodies flung in to feed the numerous alligators.
“O Sekelètu, my heart is rent and torn with grief for your people! A boy walking with his mother shrieked out, and I learn that they have taken him for a slave. Men are brothers, and ought to love as brothers; it rends my heart to see poor men bound in the slave yoke. Why do the Makololo treat their brethren so?”
“You see we are ignorant, and have not been taught better. Yet we love to hear your preaching, for we know that you love the black man, and seek out good."
“Then listen to me. I cannot find a place where my family and other white people can live. The fever will carry us all away. I want to find, though, a highway for you to the sea, and will walk right through Africa to find it. When I have done this, I will perhaps be able to induce traders to come here, and you will surely then give up the slave trade.”
“If the Boers will let us alone, and we can buy guns and white men's beads and cloth, I will hunt slaves no more. But the way is long, and ye cannot take a wagon, but must walk every step of the way.”
“So be it. I will leave my wagon with you. Send men to point me the way, and I will bring them safely back to you.”
This journey through the continent occupied from 11th November, 1853, when Livingstone left Linyanti, to 31st May, 1854, when he reached the Atlantic Ocean, having opened up the continent according to his promise.
“I don't think I have seen a single man without either a club or a spear in his hand, and they will slay each other without compunction for a single word," said Livingstone to one of his companions, as he journeyed through a country which in its physical features much reminded the traveler of Scotland.
“The curses they hurl at each other are dreadful," said one of his men; "but they liked to see your magic lantern pictures. One man said, though, that he thought the figures as they passed along out of sight off the white sheet might enter their bodies, being evil spirits. Another said that the figures were more like gods than the things they worshipped. I feel you are one of the children of Jesus, or we should not have been allowed to escape when we thought the chief intended to kill us. But do you never weary for the sight of a white man's face?”
“Many and many a time I have. But you are very true and loving. When the ox flung me into the river, twenty of you ran to help me. I am proud of your love.”
“Look! master, the ox has got one of the grapple plants in his mouth. Hark how he roars!”
“Bring the grapple plant to me when you have taken it out of the animal's mouth. Now see, it is full of hooks. It is like the temptations that vex and trouble us, each hook in itself is very small, but don't they hold fast. O! brothers, sin is like a grapple plant, it is so hard to get it out.”
“How strangely these men dress their hair. See, master, that man has his back hair made up into a long cone," remarked a native.
“Yes, about eight inches in thickness, and then covered by red and black thread. They never do such things in the white men's country, do they, master?" said another.
“Well, not exactly so, but white people are foolish too, at least some of them are. We have people who think more about how they dress their bodies than they do about the mind within. But we must be near the Portuguese settlement of Loanda, that is close to the sea.”
“The sea! I fear it. Suppose one of us went for water, would the others see that he was not kidnapped and sold for a slave?”
“I see what you mean," said Livingstone, "I know nothing of the place. But nothing shall happen to you but what happens to myself I will stand or fall by you.”
“I suppose there are places there like your house; a little mountain full of caves?”
“Yes. There is the sea Look, O Makololo!”
“O father! we marched with you believing that what the ancients had told us was quite true, and that the world had no end. But now the world says I'm finished, there's no more of me.'”
"Thirty-one attacks of fever, complicated by dysentery at the end of the journey; through so many perils that I cannot recount them, but brought safely by the mercy of God," said Livingstone, as he looked upon the ocean.
Received with great kindness by all the white population at Loanda, after resting there for about four months, Dr. Livingstone returned through Africa, leaving Loanda, 20th September, 1854, and reaching Linyanti on 11th September in the following year.
During Livingstone's residence at Loanda he resolved to explore the Zambesi route to the east coast, that to the west coast being found impracticable for wagons on account of the forests, rivers, and marshes. While there he received tempting offers of a passage home to England, but refused them all, as he felt it his duty first, as he had promised, to lead his faithful African followers safe home.
As he was preparing to send his dispatches and letters by the Forerunner from Loanda, the Makololo men who had accompanied him came in much distress to his quarters, fearing he was going away from them.
“O father, do not leave us! These Portuguese are not like you, and when you have gone over the great water they will sell us for slaves.”
“Be at rest; I will not forsake you. I promised to take you back to your homes, and I will keep my promise.”
“We shall sleep. Our father is a man who keeps his promise. Our hearts are white as milk and we fear naught.”
The Forerunner went down off Madeira, and all on board were lost except one solitary man. Had Livingstone gone with her he too would have perished.
By fulfilling his pledge Livingstone acquired great influence over the natives, who knew at what terrible cost he had kept his word.
When at length the party reached Linyanti, a native meeting was held, when the Makololo described their adventures while accompanying Livingstone to Loanda.
“We've finished the world," they said; "seen it all, and there's all water on the outside.”
“Then you saw Ma Robert, the master's wife?’
“No, she lives farther still outside the world, over the water. But we carried coals while the master was at Loanda.”
“Coals, what are they, we don't understand you.”
“Why, stones that burn. They gave us money for carrying them into what they call a ship. It's a sort of house you climb into by a rope.”
“Ra Robert is very glad. The stores Moffat brought him have made him glad that he is not forgotten. He is a good man, Livingstone. We watched him a long time and he knew it not, but he has no secret sin, he is white right through. If all the followers of Jesus are like him they are good and happy.”
“What will he do now, think you?”
“They say that he means to go up the great river Zambesi and find the sea there.”
“They say too that 120 men are going with him. I would like to go. I could follow such a man all through the world.”
Dr. Livingstone started again from Linyanti for the new expedition on 3rd November, 1855, and during this journey to the east coast of Africa he discovered the Victoria Falls upon the Zambesi river. Across the river bed is a deep fissure, some 80 feet wide, into which the river, here 1.800 yards in breadth, falls to the depth of 320 feet, becoming finally pent up in rocky gorges, making a grander fall than Niagara. The natives call the volumes of vapor hovering above the pool "sounding smoke.”
Leaving his men at Quilimane, Livingstone now returned to England, which he reached 9th December, 1856.
"The end of the geographical feat is only the beginning of the enterprise," he had said; the magnitude of the feat cannot be estimated, perhaps, by any save by the God who sustained and supported His servant.
He had not only explained that Africa was like a hat, having a central elevation, which, however, had longitudinal ridges at the brim; but that the hat crown had once been the bed of an inland sea, which had drained itself off through fissures such as the Victoria falls, leaving the great inland lakes as portions of what had once been a vast stretch of water. He not only found, too, that what once had been a blank space in the maps was crowded with nations likely to subsist, but he had shown how to influence them for good, and had shown too that slavery was bad policy, and had opened the continent to both the trader and missionary. He had done what no man had dreamed of as possible. After his making a road others might follow, because of the gracious influence Livingstone had acquired. All honor to those who have followed, but more abundant honor to him who ventured into an unknown danger and steadily persisted until his work was done.
Chapter 5
FEAR GOD AND WORK HARD; THE LABORER WHO WAS NEVER IDLE
“A hundred thousand welcomes, and 'tis time for you to come,
From the far land of the foreigner, to your country and your home;
O! long as we were parted; ever since you went away,
I never passed a dreamless night, or knew an easy day.
“You'll never part again, darling, is the promise of your eye;
I may tend you while I'm living; you will watch me when I die
And if death but kindly lead me to the blessed home on high,
What a hundred thousand welcomes will await you in the sky.”
OH David! David! you can't tell what I hat e suffered while waiting for you. Do not let us part again. You know you said to the Missionary society ' Whoever goes we will stay.' I must go back with you, if you return to Africa," said Mary Livingstone to her husband on his arrival in England.
“Yes, and you shall, Mary. The separation has been very bitter for me too; but I felt I was in the path of duty, and though it was like tearing my heart from my body, I felt that I dared not refuse to go forward at the call of God. I heard at Cairo of the death of my father. O Mary, it has made such a fearful blank in my life. I used to think bow I should sit by our fireside, and tell him about what I had seen and felt; but never mind, I shall tell him in the world to come.”
“You don't think that the saints after death talk about their doings!”
“Why not. If heaven be the abode of perfect bliss, it will add to its happiness to recount the mercies of the Lord. Father believed so. He said just as he was passing away: I so wished to see David-very, very, very much; but I think I'll know all that's worth knowing about him. When you see him tell him that I thought so.' O Mary, that awful agony of our not meeting with those we have wept for here; it makes my head reel, and my heart ache for the time; pray God none of our dear ones may be wanting.”
“Don't weep, David; I cannot bear to see you so distressed.”
“I bless God for a father and mother poor and pious. Thank God for them! We have to be a home to others now. When our children weep for us may they think of us as we do of our dead.”
May it be true of thee, O reader, that thy children shall say, "My father was a holy man, my mother feared God —would God I were as good as my parents." May thy children, if they call thee not rich, call thee blessed. Give them the delight of praising thy piety and Christian life!
Presented by the Geographical Society with its gold medal; by the city of London with its freedom in a box of the value of fifty guineas; a testimonial of the value of £2,000, and other tokens of public esteem, they made no difference to Livingstone; he was too noble to be elated by honor, as too pious to be hindered by misunderstanding and neglect. Whether among the blacks, who loved him as his own children did, or conversing with Her Majesty the Queen, he was the same simple, earnest, resolute, spiritual hero—a man above fear, self-seeking or gain.
In an address to the graduates of Cambridge, he closed his speech with the stirring words—"I know that in a few years I shall be cut off in Africa, which is now open; don't let it be shut again! I go back to Africa to try to make an open path for Christianity and commerce; do you carry on the work which I have begun. I LEAVE IT WITH YOU.”
Out of his influence sprang the Universities' Mission, a forward policy on the part of the London Missionary Society, and numerous efforts to civilize and Christianize the tribes which he had discovered.
Appointed H. M. Consul, he went back to Africa, accompanied by his wife, to explore the river Zambesi, his expenses being provided for by the British government. Accompanied by their youngest son, Oswell, David and Mary Livingstone left Liverpool loth March, 1858, carrying with them in sections the Ma Robert, a steam launch, which was to be employed in examining the Zambesi and its tributaries. The remainder of 1858 was spent exploring the mouths of the Zambesi and the river itself up to Tette. The next year, during three trips up the river Shire, was marked by the discovery of Lake Nyassa.
In 1860 Livingstone took the Makololo back to their own land. “Men taunted us saying Your Englishman will never return.' But we trusted you, and knew you would keep your promise, even if it cost you much. Now we are glad," said his Makololo followers when they beheld him.
In 1861 he partially explored the River Rovuma, and helped to establish the Universities' Mission.
Out of the proceeds of his book he provided another steamer, at a cost of £6,000, to sail upon the lake. The Ma Robert had proved such a ghastly failure that she was re-named the Asthmatic.
“O David, I am so thankful you are near," said Mary Livingstone on the 21st April, 1862. "While I was in England it was fearful. The children were at school, and the loneliness was awful. Some people, too, hurt me much. One doctor of divinity said in my hearing, `Oh, she's no good! she is here because her husband cannot live with her.' It is so hard to be scandalized thus.”
“Heed it not, Mary, we know how far that is from the truth. God knows that only the strong sense of duty that I dare pot resist tears me from your delightful society. You have been the light of our camp fires and the joy of my heart. We Scotchmen love as keenly as any others, though we don't show our heart to every curious eye.”
“But it is so cruel, dearest, when any one might know what a pang it has been to both of us. The day laborer who lives in his cottage with his wife and children has not been compelled to undergo the privations we have suffered.”
“Don't let it disturb you, dear wife. I have noticed that the devil, when he cannot injure men in any other way, often assails them through their good name. How many have suffered cruel injustice from this cause? I heed not their speeches, more than I do the cawing of the carrion crows. God is the judge and He will make it clear.”
“And then I suffer so from spiritual darkness. While I am with you I feel my old love for Christ return, but while I was in England I saw so much deception, envy, and wickedness among Christian people so called, that it made one almost loathe the Christian name. I have seen men of all denominations professing to love the same Savior, who have nevertheless hated each other worse than the Africans they despise.”
“O Mary, Christ must not be dishonored for such men! They are the scandal of the Gospel and its greatest hindrance. But shall we on their account forego our love and enjoyment of the Lord's presence? Let us look away from men to the living and gentle Christ. Forger them all and center all your love on Him.”
“I will, David dear; but if you would pray with me I should be so thankful. I don't know how it is, but while I am with you I never get troubled with doubts, and I seem to feel such love for Christ. I wish I were only half as good as you are.”
That night Mrs. Livingstone was taken ill; she grew rapidly worse, and on Sunday, 27th April, 1862, Dr. Stewart found her husband sitting beside the bed, formed of rude boxes, upon which lay his insensible, dying wife.
“O Mary, just one word. Only a parting kiss. Do say good-bye, dearest! O wife, leave me not without one word of farewell! O God, help me! Help me! This is more than I can bear! I can bear the pain, poverty, evil-speaking—I have had plenty; but this is beyond my strength. Spare her! Oh, spare her! If this cannot be, yet do permit me one word.”
But there was no response, and the strong man wept in bitter loneliness over his dead, his dead answering never a word!
Dost thou know the difference between an unknown corpse and thine own dead? How awful, yet how precious, the lips that can never, never answer our cries, or speak the words our hearts are breaking to hear!
‘Do you notice any change?'' said Dr. Stewart.
“Yes, the very features and expression of her father. O Mary! where are you now, and why can't I see you again?”
They laid the precious dust beneath a large baobab tree at Shupanga, sixty feet in circumference. With bitter tears the lonely husband turned away into the world, to go forward alone through the years that yet remained of his life journey.
“Though I cannot speak a word I shall hearken what you say, And be often, often with you when you think I'm far away.”
During the closing months of 1862 Livingstone again explored the River Rovuma. In 1863, while exploring the Shire Valley and Lake Nyassa, he was called home by the government.
I don't know whether I am to go on the shelf or not. If I do I'll make Africa the shelf," Livingstone said, when he was recalled home. Deserted by all his helpers, he himself navigated his ship to Bombay and thence sailed for Old England. He reached home, 23rd July, 1864.
On his way to witness the launch of a Turkish frigate, while in Glasgow, Livingstone found himself in the same carriage with the Turkish ambassador.
“The cheers of the people are for you," said Livingstone to the ambassador.
“No, they are for you, I am only what my master made me; you are what you made yourself," was the reply.
In August, 1865, he returned to Africa. He proposed seeking an entrance north of the Portuguese territories, passing round the southern end of Lake Tanganyika to explore the watershed of this part of the Dark Continent.
No one better exemplified the motto he gave to the pupils of the school at which his son Oswell was receiving his education: "FEAR GOD AND WORK HARD" —advice that we will all do well to ponder and embody in the life work that God may have permitted us to attempt for His glory. Whatever thou hast to do in the way of lawful service, "Fear God and Work Hard.”
Chapter 6
LOST AND FOUND; A LONG LOOK NOT SOON FORGOTTEN
“Mercies grew thicker there than summer flowers,
They over numbered my days and hours.”
“As for my friends, they are not lost;
The several vessels of thy fleet,
Though parted now by tempests tossed,
Shall safely in the haven meet.”
WAS there ever such a man as this Livingstone?
He is as merry as a child, and not a bit like a minister in his dress. But it would be a blessing to the world if all the bishops were one half as good as he is. Just think of him, as if he had not enough to do looking after the thirteen Sepoys or native soldiers of India-a lazy, thriftless lot-and ten Johanna men, who are as big liars and thieves as any in the world, beside the fourteen others with him, he has taken a lot of buffaloes, camels, mules, and donkeys to leave among the natives. The cattle die it seems from the bite of a fly called tsetse. Livingstone is now trying to introduce animals that will not be destroyed. "So said a Zanzibar merchant on 19th March, 1866, as he watched H.M.S. Penguin followed by a native boat conveying Dr. Livingstone to the mainland of Africa “Yes; not many men would have undertaken the expedition," said an English officer to the native merchant by his side. "The Royal Geographical Society only gave him £500, and the British Government has too much to do providing for generals who never fought a battle, and sailors who don't know how to take a ship up the Solent without an accident, to spare more than the same sum to cover all the expense of the expedition. Bah! I begin to despise my country! Fancy appointing Livingstone a Consul without a salary! If some of the awful waste of Government departments were diverted to such enterprises, the people of Britain would be more contented. £500 to civilize and open markets for trade for England; and if Livingstone dies, his children may break stones upon the road, for all those who heap up gold out of his sufferings will care! I suppose that they think he'll get his reward in heaven, and therefore does not require much help while on earth. It would serve them right to try the experiment upon them, taking such mean advantage of good nature and piety!”
And thus into the interior went Livingstone, scantily furnished with needful supplies, but his active native followers soon transferred native huts from deserted villages on their route when necessary to shelter him and the goods they carried.
“What a fearful spectacle, Chuma," said Livingstone to his native servant, as they journeyed through the land. "When I went through this country before it was fertile and thickly peopled now we see scarcely a man and there is no food to sell!
“O master, Susi says that the ground in front is covered by slave sticks! There are two women tied to trees, who have died of hunger. Susi saw an Arab trader who, because a woman could not walk with the other slaves, slew her with his ax.”
“Yes, truly," said Susi, "and there are nearly twenty slaves lying in a heap, all dead through hunger; the slave traders have left them to perish.
“O master," cried Chuma, "the Johanna men have all run away. You had to send the sepoys back; now the Johanna thieves are gone. What will you do?
“Push on for Lake Tanganyika, and let me see if I can find the sources of the Nile. I have found a new lake, let me find out all I can about Tanganyika.”
My friends would not know me now," he said to his faithful friends Chuma and Susi. "My teeth are dropping out trying to eat this hard corn; my daughter, if she ever sees me, will have to kiss me through a speaking trumpet. Now my feet are covered with fearful ulcers. You must make me a litter to carry me.”
“I wish, master, you would get a little more flesh upon your cheeks. There are deep holes under your eyes and on your cheeks; we fear you may die.”
“I should not have undertaken this task; working in these swampy regions is fearful, but having now promised I will go through with it.”
“Let us go back to Ujiji. Only the other day while nearly fifteen hundred women were at market here selling their goods, the chief Dugumté fired upon them and killed most of the throng. At Ujiji we shall find medicines and food for master; for the English will not have forgotten their brother in Africa.”
On 23rd October, 1871, having been waylaid in the forest and robbed of nearly all he possessed, Dr. Livingstone reached Ujiji, to find that his goods had been wasted and the report of his runaway Johanna men had been very generally believed. His friends in England had supposed him murdered, or at any rate made no serious attempt to reach him; but at the darkest moment relief appeared, as it often does with us all.
On the 28th October, 1871, five days after the arrival of Livingstone at Ujiji, Susi came running breathless to his master with the cry, "An Englishman coming for you! I see him come. O master, you are not forgotten!”
Livingstone speedily went out to meet the welcome but altogether unknown and unexpected visitor.
“An American flag at the head! What a pile of goods! This is a luxurious traveler; not a poor fellow at his wits' end as I am.”
In a few moments the intrepid Henry M. Stanley strode forward and heartily grasped the brave man's hand, a meeting as simple and noble as became the heroic Scotchman and his gallant deliverer.
“I am sent by the New York Herald to find you; or, if you were dead, to bring home your bones to England.'
“You have given me new life! God be thanked!" replied Livingstone.
In a short period the good food he was now able to procure made an immense difference on Livingstone. He with Stanley proceeded to explore the northern end of the great lake of Tanganyika; to discover if it really discharged its waters into the Albert Nyanza, a lake northwest as he supposed.
“Livingstone was then about sixty years old; his hair was brownish, though sprinkled over the temples with gray; his beard and mustaches were very gray. His hazel eyes were bright and wonderfully keen, and if not an angel he is as near one as any man I ever saw. I never heard a man laugh so; it seems as if all his nature took part in the laugh; his kindness and gentleness won even his enemies to love him. "So wrote Stanley.
“O Stanley, you have given me new heart! Your kindness in coaxing back my appetite I shall never forget.”
“Do come home with me," said Stanley." You could rest a little in England, and return to finish the work.”
“No! my daughter Agnes writes, Much as I wish you to come home, I had rather that you finished your work to your own satisfaction, than return merely to gratify me." “Like her father, a chip off the old block! O Livingstone, I thank God that ever I saw you. I have met with many preachers and people who have made a loud boast of their religion; but I never saw one like you, whose religion seems to have gone right through him. You have quite won my heart, and I know I shall be a better man for having met you.'
“Do not say it, Stanley. You cannot tell how my heart murmured when I felt myself neglected and left to die in Africa. I did strive against all rebellious thoughts, but it is hard not to give way sometimes.”
“No wonder; no living creature could have borne more bravely. I feel sure it must have been done by a religion I have never seen before.”
“Stanley, I read the Bible through four times while I was waiting at Manyuema. All that I am I owe to Christ Jesus, revealed to me in His Divine Book. O Stanley, Stanley I here is the source of strength and the transforming power. When I contemplate the Lord Jesus I feel from the bottom of my heart a response to His love. I cannot resist Him, and I look upon these poor suffering creatures as His purchased possession. I can't be angry with them when they rob and vex me. Poor creatures. Christ died for them and seeks to save them.”
“Since I have been with you," replied Stanley," I have thought much upon this salvation. I have traveled far and seen much of life. I recall my mother and her cottage in a little Welsh valley. The hills were round it, and a quiet little world it was, undisturbed by any outward life. But how sweet it was, as my mother would open her Welsh Bible, and we read together the stories of David and Joseph. I loved the reading and used to be melted by it; but that feeling soon wore off when I traveled into other lands and saw how unlike Christians were to their Example. It seemed to me as if they were more worldly than other people. Now the old Welsh feeling comes back with stronger force.”
“I used to dwell much on sin and the need for repentance. I feel it is needful to insist on it still to arouse men from their degradation; but love is the heart opener. When I realize the love of Christ to me, my sins seem intolerable. I abhor myself and loathe the sin that grieves such beautiful love. O Stanley, how magnificent Christ is, and how marvelously sweet is His divine love! If you can realize that love to you, I am sure you will not be able to keep back your heart's affections from Him.”
“At some future period I expected to go through a process by which I should become a man, but I find, Livingstone, that I grew up into maturity without any great gap of experience or consciousness of the advance. So I once imagined that I should experience a revolution of feeling and endure agonies of remorse, and that all at once the clouds would break and the sun of peace would shine. But I've made advance without knowing it. I can't recall any great spasms of feeling, yet I am sure have changed. I do realize that Jesus loves me, and I feel that His love has laid hold upon my heart; but ought I not to feel more deeply the evil of sin?”
“That is not your work, Stanley. You can't make yourself feel. If you allow the love of Christ to fill your heart, it will cleanse it as the river of old cleansed the foul stables. To take hold of Christ's atonement by faith is our duty; to cleanse us and change us by virtue of the sacrifice of Christ is the work of God's good Spirit, and ever follows.”
On the 14th of March, 1872, the friends took their last breakfast together. It was a sad meal; neither friend could eat; their hearts were too full. Carrying back letters and Livingstone's journal, Stanley at length said good-bye. Taking long looks at his features so as to impress them deeply upon his memory, the young 'man parted from the friend of whom, after four months of Intimate acquaintance, he said, "Each day's life added to my admiration for him.”
Stanley went down to the coast and returned to England. Livingstone turned again to the swamps-turned back, alas! to die.
Chapter 7
ALONE ON HIS KNEES: A PRESAGE OF VICTORY
“May heaven's rich blessing come down upon every one—American, English, or Turk—who will help to heal the open sore of the world."—Livingstones words to New York Herald (now inscribed on his tomb in Westminster Abbey).
"19th March, Birthday.—' My Jesus, my king, my life, my all, I again dedicate my whole self to Thee. Accept me, and grant, O gracious Father, that ere this year is gone, I may finish my task. In Jesus' name I ask it. Amen. So let it be.'”
SO wrote the great traveler while waiting at Unyanyembe for the men that Stanley had promised to send up from the coast. It was important that they should arrive quickly before the rainy season commenced; but owing to various hindrances they did not reach Unyanyembe until a month later than they were expected. At last the fifty-seven men and boys sent up by Stanley started from Unyanyembe with Livingstone on 25th August, 1872.
Livingstone's plan was to strike south to go round Tanganyika, cross the Chambezi, and bear away along the western shore of Banguelo. Among the swamps of that lake he died.
Their path lay across flooded rivers; that had to be crossed upon men's shoulders. One night a plague of ants attacked Livingstone. As he went forward the difficulties seemed to increase; all the journey too he was suffering fearful agony from his many disorders.
“I shall not live to finish this journey," he said to Susi. "But if I am able to deal a blow to the slave trade and induce others to attempt the work here, I shall not die in vain. I think I will try and ride for I cannot walk.”
But when they placed him upon the donkey he fell to the ground utterly exhausted and faint.
“Chuma, I have lost so much blood," he said, "that there is no more strength left in my legs. You must carry me.”
They gently helped him upon Chuma's shoulders, and holding his servant's head in order to steady himself the faithful servant carried his master back to the village.
Seeing that his strength was gradually departing, the servants make a kitanda or palanquin of wood. Two side pieces of wood about seven feet long were crossed by rails three feet long and about four inches apart; this was covered with grass, upon which a blanket was laid. Another blanket was hung across the pole—by which two strong men bore their beloved master—to shade him from the sun's rays. Thus through a flooded grass plain they took him to a village, the natives of which fled at their approach.
Through several days they traveled thus. On 27th April this, his last, entry in his diary was made—"Knocked up quite, and remain—recover—sent to buy milch goats. We are on the banks of the Molitamo." He had sent, hoping to get some milk, but in vain. The food prepared for him, of corn pounded with ground nuts, the doctor could not touch.
The next day Livingstone could not walk to the kitanda, and the side of the house had to be broken down to permit the kitanda being brought to his bed side. When the bearers came to a stream they laid the traveler beneath the shade of a tree until all the men had crossed. The canoes were too narrow to permit the kitanda being placed in them, and Livingstone could not bear a hand near his back to lift him into the bottom of the boat. At length he said—
“Chuma, stoop down as low as possible. I will clasp my hands round your head, then do you lift me so as not to touch my back, and lay me in the boat.”
In the same manner they lifted the invalid out of the canoe, and carried him through swamps to Chitambo's village.
“Chuma, put me down," he said every few yards, "I am drowsy."
Once he beckoned one of the men, who, bending over the kitanda, found him unable to speak for faintness.
When he recovered a great thirst oppressed him, and he gasped out—"Water! water!”
They had none but a little distance farther on they met a man bringing some.
When he had taken a drink Livingstone said, "Put me down, and leave me here.”
“But, master, yonder is the village; I can see the huts. Susi will have a grass hut ready for you.”
“I shall soon have a house in the skies. O Mary! Mary! I am weary! weary! weary! Come, Lord Jesus! take me home!”
“Come, master; Chuma speaks to you! It is raining I Bwana, leave us not. Let us carry you to Chitambo's village.”
But he could not then bear to be moved; and when they at length bore him into the little hamlet, they had to shelter him under the eaves of a native hut until his own was prepared.
Raised from the floor by sticks, rough grass formed his dying bed, a box doing duty as a table; a fire burned outside the hut, while his boy slept near him to attend to his master during the night.
“Bwani wants you, Susi," called the boy the next evening. During the day Livingstone had lain silent and apparently unconscious.
“Bring the medicine chest, Susi,'' said Livingstone." Here it is, master.”
“Hold the candle closer.”
“Alas, he cannot see! The night-time of death is upon him," said Susi
“This is it," said Livingstone, selecting the calomel, "it's all right. You can go out now," he added-the last words men heard David Livingstone speak.
It was nearly four o'clock in the morning when the boy called Susi.
“Come, Susi, come to the Bwana! I am afraid; I don't know if he is alive!" Susi and five others followed the boy to the hut.
Dr. Livingstone was not in his bed. He knelt beside it with his arms stretched forth, his face buried in his hands upon the pillow.
“He is praying as he ever does," said Chuma. "Disturb him not.”
“When I lay down he was just as he is now, and when I awoke I found he had not moved. Oh, me! I fear he is dead and will never speak to me again.”
“How long did you sleep," asked Chuma, turning to the boy.
“I know not, but it must have been a long time.”
“It was but just after midnight that I left him," said Susi. "It is now four o'clock. Is it not strange that he has not got into bed?
“Snuff the candle, Susi," said Chuma.
The candle was stuck by its own wax to a box lid; when Susi had snuffed it so as to obtain a clearer light, Chuma said—
“Let us come nearer.”
“Can you hear his breathing," asked Susi.
“No," said Chuma, "but let us feel his cheeks. Oh! they are cold. Alas, alas! he is dead.”
“Lay him upon his bed and cover him carefully," said Susi, "and let us go outside and talk what shall we do.”
So on the 1st of May, 1873, Livingstone passed away upon his knees. Oh, a presage of victory surely was there in such a death! A man of prayer, he won for Africa a free Gospel, as he yielded up his spirit in the attitude of prayer.
“Come all into the teat and look upon him," said Chums to the servants. "Let Jacob Wainwright (one of his Negro followers) write a list of his goods, that nothing may be lost.”
“We will obey Susi and Chuma," said the men. "Give us your orders and we will do your will.”
“Ye know that people here dread the dead. We dread not our master: he would not hurt us living, and will not now he is dead. Let us carry his body to Zanzibar, and let no man tell that he is dead." '
After removing the viscera, that were reverently buried beneath a tree, the body was exposed for fourteen days to the heat of the sun. Being thus dried, it was then swathed in calico and placed in a bark case, and thus carried upon poles toward the coast by six men.
For nine weary months these men traveled, jealously guarding the body and every fragment of personal property belonging to their master. At times the tribes were very hostile; at one place they had even to fight to get past. On another occasion they were compelled to make up the body like a bale of goods, sending off a sham package in another direction. But they never relinquished their purpose.
“Let us not give way," said Chuma. "You know that the doctor never gave up what he once commenced. It is right he should go to his people.”
O Chuma,'' said Susi, "how we do miss him! When he was so ill he still looked round to see about the rivers, trees, and people. I should so like to hear him laugh once more!
“So should I," replied Chuma." Does he laugh where he has gone, think you? I cannot think that he is worse off now than when he was with us.”
“I think he laughs, for when he was not so ill I asked him once about the spirit after death. He told me about Ma Robert, his wife, and how she was now where no sickness or cold could come; and I said O master, are the dead happy?' They who are servants of Jesus are,' said he.”
“Yes; bow fond he was of saying ' Make Jesus your friend," answered Chuma." I shall always think of that —a friend of Jesus! But we've lost a friend.”
“That we have; but, Chuma, let us think upon what he used to say to us when we all sat round the camp fire. How kind he was, and how we all loved to hear his stories! And then he would stop in his talk about his home to tell about Jesus and His love, and read to us out of God's Book. How his lips trembled as he spoke about the Savior dying upon the Cross for us. I wonder what Jesus said to him when he went into heaven.”
“I cannot say; but I should like to go where he has gone, to be with him once more. I think I should know him, and it would be so beautiful to be in heaven with him.”
“I do try," said Susi, "but it is hard sometimes, isn't it though? My mind so soon forgets, and then I get so vexed with myself. When I kneel down, too, to pray I lose my words; what to do I don't knew. I wish he were here to tell us.”
“I asked him once when we were in the swamps how I ought to pray," said Chuma, "and he smiled and said, 'Now, Chuma, suppose you wanted some medicine of me, what would you do?' Why, come to you at once and ask for it,' said I. Of course,' he answered, and you wouldn't think about the way you expressed yourself so much, as about the fact that I loved you and would be sure to help you.' I know that,' I said. Then, go to God in that way. He loves you, and if you tell Him what you want, He will forgive a mistake in asking.' I don't now think about how I am to ask. I fill my mind with the thoughts of Him to whom I am speaking.”
All along the journey the tidings they found had preceded them, and one after another spoke of the good men departed. Men loved him during life; but they showed how much they loved him after he had passed away.
At Unyanyembe they met an expedition going to Livingstone's relief. Lieutenant Cameron, who commanded it, heard the tidings of Livingstone's death with deep emotion. "He was a grand man, and worthy of Scotland," he said. "He ought to be buried among her heather clad hills. But it is impossible. Bury him in Africa.”
“No," said Susi, "we want to take him to Zanzibar." "But his wife is buried in Africa, and he belongs to Africa.”
“We feel we must take him to the coast," persisted the faithful natives, and they did so.
In February, 1874, the men reached the coast with the sacred burden. The remains arrived at Southampton, 15th April, 1874, and were brought to London, being deposited in the rooms of the Geographical Society. That evening they were examined by medical men, to prove the identity of the body. The state of the arm crushed by the lion, long, long before, supplied the evidence that the body was indeed that of "one of the greatest men of the human race-David Livingstone”
On Saturday, 28th April, 1874, the remains brought from the heart of Africa were deposited near the center of the nave in Westminster Abbey.
“He climbed the steep ascent of heaven
Through peril, toil, and pain;
O God! to us may grace be given
To follow in his train.”
Twenty-nine thousand miles Livingstone had traveled through Africa, adding a million square miles of territory to what was known of the earth.
“That kneeling figure, dying alone in the remote African village, stirred men who had formerly slighted his words. Dying in silence at Ilala he accomplished more at his death even than during his life; or rather his death gathered up all the work of the past and gave it new force and power. Though the heart of Livingstone, se faithful, and tender, and true, has finally ceased to beat, his voice rings out loud in the ears of Europe and America. It is heard clearer and louder now than when he lived and toiled, than when he entreated for aid to break the shackles riveted on the black nations of Africa by the accursed traffic in slaves. While he lived he could only say, in his utter loneliness, `May Heaven's rich blessing come down upon every one-American, English, or Turk-who will help to heal the open sore of the world!' But from the depths of that grave where his beloved remains lie, his spirit cries out, 'Arise, Americans, Englishmen, and Turks, and stop the slave trade!
“David Livingstone has bequeathed to us, besides a legacy of respect for his memory, a rich legacy of hate to the evil horror which decimates the continent of Africa. For wherever it travels, it leaves behind it a trail of blood and tears, burning villages, scorched fields, and depopulated countries! It is preceded by fear, and sorrow, and suffering! It is begirt all around by blackest desolation! The evil influences of it are as enduring as death! Over the once cultivated acreage and happy simplicity and contentment of the palm or plantain embowered villages the forest grows; and the place over which little children gleefully romped, and the women loved and joyed with their progeny, is known no more! The slave trade is a sin of the deepest, darkest, deadliest kind, and the civilized nations of Europe and America, who are, under God, the shepherds of the world, should extend their care and protection over the feeble and oppressed races of Africa, as much as over those of any other part or parcel of earth. Then, and not till then, will the prophetic words of Livingstone come to pass, ' It will all come right at last.'”
Sleep, then, O Livingstone, in thy dreamless bed until that bright and happy time comes! Sleep on, sleek ever, at peace from thy toil! Love and friendship will cast their garlands over thy memory to keep it green, and hearts of good men and women will bless thee for the glorious work thou hast so well done!
The recent wonderful expansion of missionary and commercial enterprise in Africa can all be traced to the self-denying, patient hero who toiled on until he died at his post. "The spirit of missions is the spirit of our Master, the very genius of His religion.”
May every reader of this narrative be as resolute, simple, patient, and God honored, as THE FACTORY BOY WHO BECAME A MISSIONARY.