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of discovering Livingstone some time in October, 1869. Mr. Bennett was ready with the money, and I was ready for the journey. But, observe, reader, that I did not proceed directly upon the search mission. I had many tasks to fulfil before proceeding with it, and many thousand miles to travel over. Supposing that I had gone direct to Zanzibar from Paris, seven or eight months afterwards, perhaps, I should have found myself at Ujiji; but Livingstone would not have been found there then : he was on the Lualaba; and I should have had to follow him on his devious tracks through the primeval forests of Manyuema, and up along the crooked course of the Lualaba for hundreds of miles. The time taken by me in travelling up the Nile, back to Jerusalem, then to Constanti. nople, Southern Russia, the Caucasus, and Persia, was employed by Livingstone in fruitful discoveries west of the Tanganyika. Again, con. sider that I arrived at Unyanyembe in the latter part of June, and that owing to a war I was delayed three months at Unyanyembe, leading a fretful, peevish, and impatient life. But while I was thus fretting myself, and being delayed by a series of accidents, Livingstone was being forced back to Ujiji in the same month. It took him from June to October to march to Ujiji. Now, in September, I broke loose from the thraldom which accident had imposed on me, and hurried southward to Ukonongo, then westward to Kawendi, then northward to Uvinza, then westward to Ujiji, only about three weeks after the Doctor's arrival, to find him resting under the verandah of his house, with his face turned eastward, the direction from which I was coming. Had I gone direct from Paris on the search, I might have lost him ; had I been enabled to have gone direct to Ujiji from Unyanyembe, I might have lost him."*
We have thus far anticipated the interest of the volume to which we wish to introduce our readers. Let it be our preliminary work to ask who the man is around whom such interest centres, what he has been doing, and what he wishes yet to accomplish ; a brief sketch of his career seems necessary, that we may rightly appreciate his work.
David Livingstone was born about the year 1817, at the village of Blan. tyre, on the Clyde, near Glasgow, of poor, but thoroughly upright parents. The spirit of his early training is suggested by a well-known circumstance, related to him when a boy by his grandfather, a great master of legend and story. A common ancestor, renowned for wisdom and prudence, on his death-bed called all his children round him, and said : “Now, in my lifetime I have searched most carefully through all the traditions I could find of our family, and I never could discover that there was a dishonest man among our forefathers. If, therefore, any of you, or any of your children, should take to dishonest ways, it will not be because it runs in our blood; it does not belong to you. I leave this precept with you: Be honest.” Livingstone's father inherited this ancestral integrity, and taught his children accordingly. An education based on the cultivation of truthfulness and sincerity is the best foundation for temporal and eternal happiness. And to the transparent simplicity, uprightness, and self-reliance which the boy learnt in his virtuous
* Stanley's “How I found Livingstone," pp. 425, 426.
home may be attributed much of the success of the man in dealing with wild and savage tribes.
The story of the subsequent explorer's youth is doubtless familiar to our readers. The cotton-mills of Blantyre were the school in which the weaver-boy was his own teacher for upwards of ten years, his evening schoolmaster being only his assistant in the process. His own words reveal the secret of the eminence which he ultimately attained : “My reading,” he says, “ while at work was carried on by placing the book on a portion of the spinning-jenny, so that I could catch sentence after sentence as I passed at my work. I thus kept up a pretty constant study, undisturbed by the roar of the machinery. To this part of my education I owe my present power of so completely abstracting the mind from surrounding noises, as to read and write with perfect comfort amidst the play of children, or the dancing and songs of savages. The toil of cotton spinning, to which I was promoted in my nineteenth year, was excessively severe on a slim, loose-jointed lad; but it was well paid for, and it enabled me to support myself while attending college classes in winter, by working with my hands in summer.” And he adds, " Looking back now on that life of toil, I cannot but feel thankful that it formed such a material part of my early education; and were it possible, I should like to begin life over again in the same lowly style, and to pass through the same hardy training."
Livingstone's religious convictions, which had been sedulously fostered by pious parental instruction, deepened with advancing years, until his opening manhood found him resolved to devote his life to the alleviation of human misery. With this object in view, he was led to the study of medicine and divinity, believing that, furnished thereby with the means for ministering to men's physical and spiritual wants, he was thus most closely imitating the model life of the Redeemer, “Who went about doing good” to the bodies and souls of men. It was not without some difficulty that the self-reliant young man was persuaded by somo of his friends to avail himself of the aid of the London Missionary Society, catholic as is its basis; his original purpose being to go to China, on his own account, as a medical missionary. After taking his medical degree, he went for two years to the Chipping Ongar Missionary Training College, in Essex ; when, the Chinese war having broken out, a sermon which he heard from Moffat, who afterwards became his father-in-law, changed the current of his thoughts, and he returned with that eminent African missionary pioneer to Kuruman, in the year 1840.
The preceding short review of Livingstone's early self-training will probably serve considerably to modify our conclusions as to the course which he afterwards adopted of severing his connection with his Missionary Society, and accepting a consular appointment. Dr. Carey is said to have exclaimed, when reference was made to his•son Eustace's acceptance of a civil post : "Yes, my son has dwindled down from a missionary into an ambassador.” Livingstone's own language, however, in allusion to his early impressions, less suggests the inward conviction of a Divine call to the work of the Christian ministry than an unselfish desire to engage in
* Adams's “ Story of the Life and Labours of David Livingstone," p. 4.
some life-long labour of general Christian philanthropy. It was in this spirit that he availed himself of the opportunity afforded him by the London Society. His original purpose, as we have seen, was to become an independent and self-supporting missionary. That he still, moreover, apparently regards himself somewhat in this light, is suggested alike by what we hear of the influence which he exerts in his wanderings among the natives, and by his own language in his last printed work on “ The Zambesi and its Tributaries,” which may be taken as a fair expression of the writer's personal principles. After describing the marvellous contrast between the Christianized populations in such centres of missionary influence as Kuruman, Sierra-Leone, etc., and the natives in their heathen state, he makes some weighty observations, the truth of which is selfevident to every foreign missionary, and which are not without instruction and encouragement to distant supporters of Christian missions.
“ Had we not previously been intimately acquainted by long personal intercourse with the people at Kuruman, who have enjoyed nearly half a century of Mr. Moffat's missionary labours, and had we not known the state of mind of the stock from which all his converts had been drawn, we might have been misled, and liave given a lower value to the appearances presented than they deserved. But we have had ample opportunities of forming an estimate of the amount of real Christianity among professing converts; and we are satisfied from observation and inquiry thai the assertion of Captain Burton that Mohammedans alone make proselytes in Africa is not correct; and we believe that in making it he rather intended to shock the prejudices of those whom he thought weak-minded than to state a fact. The quotation of this statement in an English periodical led us to make a few inquiries, the results of which we give with satisfaction, because wherever Christianity spreads, it makes men better.” And immediately before, Dr. Livingstone says, “ Our Divine religion suits the lowest as well as the highest of our race. But, in dealing with the different classes of the human family, the teaching must be adapted to the individual circumstances. The stately ceremonial, the ritual observances, the sedative sermon, and the austere look of those who think it right to indulge in a little spiritual pride, may suit some minds, but the degraded of our race in every land must be treated in somewhat the same manner as is adopted in dealing with the outcasts of London. Whether we approach the down-trodden victims of the slavetrade in sultry Africa, or our poor brethren in the streets, who have neither warmth, shelter, nor home, we must employ the same agency to secure their confidence,-the magic power of kindness,— a charm which may be said to be one of the discoveries of modern days. This charm may not act at once, nor may its effects always be permanent: the first feeling of the wretched, of whatever colour, may be that of distrust, or a suspicion that kindness is a proof of weakness; but the feelings which the severity of their lot has withered will in time spring up like the tender grass after rain. It was the fact of Bishop Mackenzie's grappling in the true missionary spirit with the gigantic evil of the country, and affording a home and shelter to the oppressed, that gave him so soon the confidence of the people. In every case the means of amelioration must be adapted to the special circumstances of the people. Charity must adopt every effort that charity can devise to rouse the slothful, civilize the brutal, instruct the ignorant, and preach the Gospel of love and mercy to all."*
Livingstone's idea seems, in a word, to be that, in dealing with the debased tribes of the African continent, European prejudices as to modes of action must be surrendered, and the people must be met on their own level, in order that they may receive the Gospel, as that which will ultimately elevate them. However correct this theory may be, it unquestionably trenches on dangerous ground; but, in view of the privations of Livingstone's career, we are bound to assign him the meed of deep sincerity and unwavering self-denial. And, where these qualifications are combined with reverent dependence on God for guidance and help, no servant of His will err widely. To a considerable extent, every true-hearted missionary to uncivilized tribes is necessarily immersed in secularities, as also is the educational missionary in countries like India, and, indeed, many a home minister. Each comforts himself with the reflection that life's commonest work becomes sacred, when done for Christ, and that holy motive redeems the lowest drudgery from all that is ignoble. Accordingly, when Dr. Livingstone, as British consul, revisits Linyanti, the Makololo country, we find him conducting Divine service, just as he had done when there previously. And equally pleasing is Stanley's picture of him at Ujiji. “The study,” he writes, * of Dr. Livingstone would not be complete, if we did not take the religious side of his character into consideration. His religion is not of the theoretical kind, but it is a constant, earnest, sincere practice. It is neither demonstrative nor loud, but manifests itself in a quiet, practical way, and is always at work. It is not aggressive, which sometimes is troublesome, if not impertinent. In him religion exhibits its loveliest features; it governs his conduct not only towards his servants, but towards the natives, the bigoted Mohammedans, and all who come in contact with him. Without it Livingstone with his ardent temperament, his enthusiasm, his high spirit and courage, must have become uncompanionable, and a hard master. Religion has tamed him, and made him a Christian gentleman; the crude and wilful have been refined and subdued; religion has made him the most companionable of men, and indulgent of masters-a man whose society is pleasurable to a degree. I have often heard our servants discuss our respective merits. “Your master,' say my servants to Livingstone's, 'is a good man-a very good man : he does not beat you, for he has a kind heart; but ours-0! he is sharp-hot as fire,' Mkali sana, kana moto.' From being hated and thwarted in every possible way by the Arabs and half-castes upon his first arrival in Ujiji, he has, through his uniform kindness, and mild, pleasant temper, won all hearts. I observed that universal respect was paid to him. Even the Mohammedans never passed his house without calling to pay their compliments, and to say, "The blessing of God rest on you.' Each Sunday morning he gathers his little flock around him, and reads prayers and a chapter from the Bible in a natural, unaffected,
* Livingstone's “ Zambesi and its Tributaries," pp. 601-603.
and sincere tone, and afterwards delivers a short address in the Kisawahili language, about the subject read to them, which is listened to with evident interest and attention.''*
The mission-cause is God's work, and He is justly jealous for His own glory. To different men He therefore assigus different parts of His great enterprise. The labour which Livingstone is nobly doing is that of the pioneer, which is as necessary as later work. In the labour of missionary organization we see so little of direct spiritual success attending his earlier labours among the Barolongs, as to lead us to ponder whether he was specially adapted to that systematic, sustained, stationary work, in which his father-in-law, Moffat, for example, has achieved such distinction. Yet Livingstone's experience gained at Kolobeng was needed to fit him for the work which he has embraced since the destruction by the Dutch Boers of his first mission-station, and in which indeed he made liis first essays when resident there. It is a matter of small moment whether we call him missionary or explorer, inasmuch as he is manifestly, pursuing a work, with manful, persevering trust in God, in which the Christian element supplies the moral force which leads to liis pre-eminence in the line which he has chosen. This we take to be the secret of his unconquerable tenacity of purpose. Neither the love of travel or adventure, nor the thirst for gold, nor the desire for fame can supply a motive to compare with that of conscientious conviction. We need but add that, just as, when a missionary, he resolutely refused to supplement his scanty one hundred pounds a year by the rich presents which native potentates thrust upon him, and cultivated the ground in order to meet the expense of supporting his fainily at a distance, and of his long journeys, so, as a consul, le is at present unpaid. Such a case as his is unique, and can never become a precedent. He is a “God-made man," and may never have a successor.
We offer no apology for the length at which we have dwelt on a matter of high and momentous Christian principle ; but the limited space at our disposal leaves room for but a slight sketch of Dr. Livingstone's numerous and protracted journeys. The first, which resulted in his crossing the Kalahari desert, and discovering Lake N'gami, was commenced on the first of June, 1849. He was at that time prevented from reaching the Makololo, amongst whom he wished to commence a mission. The following April he made a second attempt, but was driven back by fever among his party; but he finally succeeded, at the beginning of 1852, in reaching Linyanti, the capital of Sebituane, the chief of the Makololo, and the dreaded and successful rival of the famous Matabele warrior, Mosilikatse. After a short sojourn here, he repaired to Cape Town, where, sending his wife and family to England, he placed himself under the instructions of the colonial astronomer-royal, with a view to the taking of observations. Before the end of the year he returned to Linyanti, where Sebituane's son and successor, Sekeletu, astonished at his early re-appearance, exclaimed, “Welll we did not think any one could reach Linyanti in the rainy season, and we entrenched ourselve
• Stanley's "How I found Livingstone," pp. 434, 435.