It was the old story of the traveler who fell among thieves that robbed him of all he had; but where was the good Samaritan? The Government and the Geographical Society appeared to have passed by on the other side. But the good Samaritan was not as far off as might have been thought. One morning Syed bin Majid, an Arab trader, came to him with a generous offer to sell some ivory and get goods for him; but Livingstone had the old feeling of independence, and having still a few barter goods left, which he had deposited with Mohamad bin Saleh before going to Manyuema, he declined for the present Syed's generous offer. But the kindness of Syed was not the only proof that he was not forsaken. Five days after he reached Ujiji the good Samaritan appeared from another quarter. As Livingstone had been approaching Ujiji from the southwest, another white man had been approaching it from the east. On 28th October, 1871, Henry Moreland Stanley, who had been sent to look for him by Mr. James Gordon Bennett, Jr., of the New York Herald newspaper, grasped the hand of David Livingstone. An angel from heaven could hardly have been more welcome. In a moment the sky brightened. Stanley was provided with ample stores, and was delighted to supply the wants of the traveler. The sense of sympathy, the feeling of brotherhood, the blessing of fellowship, acted like a charm. Four good meals a day, instead of the spare and tasteless food of the country, made a wonderful change on the outer man; and in a few days Livingstone was himself again—hearty and happy and hopeful as before.

Before closing this chapter and entering on the last two years of Livingstone's life, which have so lively an interest of their own, it will be convenient to glance at the contributions to natural science which he continued to make to the very end. In doing this, we avail ourselves of a very tender and Christian tribute to the memory of his early friend, which Professor Owen contributed to the Quarterly Review, April, 1875, after the publication of Livingstone's Last Journals.

Mr. Owen appears to have been convinced by Livingstone's reasoning and observations, that the Nile sources were in the Bangweolo watershed—a supposition now ascertained to have been erroneous. But what chiefly attracted and delighted the great naturalist was the many interesting notices of plants and animals scattered over the Last Journals. These Journals contain important contributions both to economic and physiological botany. In the former department, Livingstone makes valuable observations on plants useful in the arts, such as gum-copal, papyrus, cotton, india-rubber, and the palm-oil tree; while in the latter, his notices of "carnivorous plants," which catch insects that probably yield nourishment to the plant, of silicified wood and the like, show how carefully he watched all that throws light on the life and changes of plants. In zooelogy he was never weary of observing, especially when he found a strange-looking animal with strange habits. Spiders, ants, and bees of unknown varieties were brought to light, but the strangest of his new acquaintances were among the fishy tribes. He found fish that made long excursions on land, thanks to the wet grass through which they would wander for miles, thus proving that "a fish out of water" is not always the best symbol for a man out of his element. There were fish, too, that burrowed in the earth; but most remarkable at first sight were the fish that appeared to bring forth their young by ejecting them from their mouths. If Bruce or Du Chaillu had made such a statement, remarks Professor Owen, what ridicule would they not have encountered! But Livingstone was not the man to make a statement of what he had not ascertained, or to be content until he had found a scientific explanation of it. He found that in the branchial openings of the fish, there occur bags or pouches, on the same principle as the pouch of the opossum, where the young may be lodged for a time for protection or nourishment, and that when the creatures are discharged through the mouth into the water, it is only from a temporary cradle where they were probably enjoying repose, beyond the reach of enemies.

Perhaps the greatest of Livingstone's scientific discoveries during this journey was that "of a physical condition of the earth's surface in elevated tracts of the great continent, unknown before." The bogs or earth-sponges, that from his first acquaintance with them gave him so much trouble, and at last proved the occasion of his death, were not only remarkable in themselves, but-interesting as probably explaining the annual inundations of most of the rivers. Wherever there was a plain sloping toward a narrow opening in hills or higher ground, there were the conditions for an African sponge. The vegetation falls down and rots, and forms a rich black loam, resting often, two or three feet thick, on a bed of pure river sand. The early rains turn the vegetation into slush, and fill the, pools. The later rains, finding the pools already full, run off to the rivers, and form the inundation. The first rains occur south of the equator when the sun goes vertically over any spot, and the second or greater rains happen in his course north again. This, certainly, was the case as observed on the Zambesi and Shire, and taking the different times for the sun's passage north of the equator, it explained the inundations of the Nile.

Such notices show that in his love of nature, and in his careful observation of all her agencies and processes, Livingstone, in his last journeys, was the same as ever. He looked reverently on all plants and animals, and on the solid earth in all its aspects and forms, as the creatures of that same God whose love in Christ it was his heart's delight to proclaim. His whole life, so varied in its outward employments, yet so simple and transparent in its one great object, was ruled by the conviction that the God of nature and the God of revelation were one. While thoroughly enjoying his work as a naturalist, Professor Owen frankly admits that it was but a secondary object of his life. "Of his primary work the record is on high, and its imperishable fruits remain on earth. The seeds of the Word of Life implanted lovingly, with pains and labor, and above-all with faith; the out-door scenes of the simple Sabbath service; the testimony of Him to whom the worship was paid, given in terms of such simplicity as were fitted to the comprehension of the dark-skinned listeners,—these seeds will not have been scattered by him in vain. Nor have they been sown in words alone, but in deeds, of which some part of the honor will redound to his successors. The teaching by forgiveness of injuries,—by trust, however unworthy the trusted,—by that confidence which imputed his own noble nature to those whom he would win,—by the practical enforcement of the fact that a man might promise and perform—might say the thing he meant,—of this teaching by good deeds, as well as by the words of truth and love, the successor who treads in the steps of LIVINGSTONE, and accomplishes the discovery he aimed at, and pointed the way to, will assuredly the benefit[73]."

[Footnote 73: Quarterly Review, April, 1875, pp. 498, 499.]



CHAPTER XXI.

LIVINGSTONE AND STANLEY.

A.D. 1871-1872.

Mr. Gordon Bennett sends Stanley in search of Livingstone—Stanley at Zanzibar—Starts for Ujiji—Reaches Unyanyembe—Dangerous illness—War between Arabs and natives—Narrow escape of Stanley—Approach to Ujiji—Meeting with Livingstone—Livingstone's story—Stanley's news—Livingstone's goods and men at Bagamoio—Stanley's accounts of Livingstone—Refutation of foolish and calumnious charges—They go to the north of the lake—Livingstone resolves not to go home, but to get fresh men and return to the sources—Letter to Agnes—to Sir Thomas Maclear—The travelers go to Unyanyembe—More plundering of stores—Stanley leaves for Zanzibar—Stanley's bitterness of heart at parting—Livingstone's intense gratitude to Stanley—He intrusts his Journal to him, and commissions him to send servants and stores from Zanzibar—Stanley's journey to the coast—Finds Search Expedition at Bagamoio—Proceeds to England—Stanley's reception—Unpleasant feelings—Eclaircissement—England grateful to Stanley.

The meeting of Stanley and Livingstone at Ujiji was as unlikely an occurrence as could have happened, and, along with many of the earlier events in Livingstone's life, serves to show how wonderfully an Unseen Hand shaped and guarded his path. Neither Stanley nor the gentleman who sent him had any personal interest in Livingstone. Mr. Bennett admitted frankly that he was moved neither by friendship nor philanthropy, but by regard to his business and interest as a journalist. The object of a journal was to furnish its readers with the news which they desired to know; the readers of the New York Herald desired to know about Livingstone; as a journalist, it was his business to find out and tell them. Mr. Bennett determined that, cost what it might, he would find out, and give the news to his readers. These were the very unromantic notions, with an under-current probably of better quality, that were passing through his mind at Paris, on the 16th October, 1869, when he sent a telegram to Madrid, summoning Henry M. Stanley, one of the "own correspondents" of his paper, to "come to Paris on important business." On his arrival, Mr. Bennett asked him bluntly, "Where do you think Livingstone is?" The correspondent could not tell—could not even tell whether he was alive. "Well," said Mr. Bennett, "I think he is alive, and that he may be found, and I am going to send you to find him." Mr. Stanley was to have whatever money should be found necessary; only he was to find Livingstone. It is very mysterious that he was not to go straight to Africa—he was to visit Constantinople, Palestine, and Egypt first. Then, from India, he was to go to Zanzibar; get into the interior, and find him if alive; obtain all possible news of his discoveries; and if he were dead, get the fact fully verified, find out the place of his burial, and try to obtain possession of his bones, that they might find a resting-place at home.

It was not till January, 1871, that Stanley reached Zanzibar. To organize an expedition into the interior was no easy task for one who had never before set foot in Africa. To lay all his plans without divulging his object would, perhaps, have been more difficult if it had ever entered into any man's head to connect the New York Herald with a search for Livingstone. But indomitable vigor and perseverance succeeded, and by the end of February and beginning of March, one hundred and ninety-two persons in all had started in five caravans at short intervals from Bagamoio for Lake Tanganyika, two white men being of the party besides Stanley, with horses, donkeys, bales, boats, boxes, rifles, etc., to an amount that made the leader of the expedition ask himself how such an enormous weight of material could ever be carried into the heart of Africa.

The ordinary and extraordinary risks and troubles of travel in these parts fell to Mr. Stanley's lot in unstinted abundance. But when Unyanyembe was reached, the half-way station to Ujiji, troubles more than extraordinary befell. First, a terrible attack of fever that deprived him of his senses for a fortnight. Then came a worse trouble. The Arabs were at war with a chief Mirambo, and Stanley and his men, believing they would help to restore peace more speedily, sided with the Arabs. At first they were apparently victorious, but immediately after, part of the Arabs were attacked on their way home by Mirambo, who lay in ambush for them, and were defeated. Great consternation prevailed. The Arabs retreated in panic, leaving Stanley, who was ill, to the tender mercies of the foe. Stanley, however, managed to escape. After this experience of the Arabs in war, he resolved to discontinue his alliance with them. As the usual way to Ujiji was blocked, he determined to try a route more to the south. But his people had forsaken him. One of his two English companions was dead, the other was sick and had to be sent back. Mirambo was still threatening. It was not till the 20th September that new men were engaged by Stanley, and his party were ready to move.

They marched slowly, with various adventures and difficulties, until, by Mr. Stanley's reckoning, on the 10th November (but by Livingstone's earlier), they were close on Ujiji. Their approach created an extraordinary excitement. First one voice saluted them in English, then another; these were the salutations of Livingstone's servants, Susi and Chuma. By and by the Doctor himself appeared. "As I advanced slowly toward him," says Mr. Stanley, "I noticed he was pale, looked wearied, had a gray beard, wore a bluish cap with a faded gold band round it, had on a red-sleeved waistcoat and a pair of gray tweed trousers. I would have run to him, only I was a coward in the presence of such a mob,—would have embraced him, only he, being an Englishman, I did not know how he would receive me; so I did what cowardice and false pride suggested was the best thing—walked deliberately to him, took off my hat and said, 'Dr. Livingstone, I presume?' 'Yes,' said he, with a kind smile, lifting his cap slightly. I replace my hat on my head, and he puts on his cap, and we both grasp hands, and then I say aloud—'I thank God, Doctor, I have been permitted to see you.' He answered, 'I feel thankful that I am here to welcome you.'"

The conversation began—but Stanley could not remember what it was. "I found myself gazing at him, conning the wonderful man at whose side I now sat in Central Africa. Every hair of his head and beard, every wrinkle of his face, the wanness of his features, and the slightly wearied look he bore, were all imparting intelligence to me—the knowledge I craved for so much ever since I heard the words, 'Take what you want, but find Livingstone,' What I saw was deeply interesting intelligence to me and unvarnished truth. I was listening and reading at the same time. What did these dumb witnesses relate to me?

"Oh, reader, had you been at my side on this day in Ujiji, how eloquently could be told the nature of this man's work? Had you been there but to see and hear! His lips gave me the details; lips that never lie. I cannot repeat what he said; I was too much engrossed to take my notebook out, and begin to stenograph his story. He had so much to say that he began at the end, seemingly oblivious of the fact that five or six years had to be accounted for. But his account was oozing out; it was growing fast into grand proportions—into a most marvelous history of deeds."

And Stanley, too, had wonderful things to tell the Doctor. "The news," says Livingstone, "he had to tell one who had been two full years without any tidings from Europe made my whole frame thrill. The terrible fate that had befallen France, the telegraphic cables successfully laid in the Atlantic, the election of General Grant, the death of good Lord Clarendon, my constant friend; the proof that Her Majesty's Government had not forgotten me in voting L1000 for supplies, and many other points of interest, revived emotions that had lain dormant in Manyuema." As Stanley went on, Livingstone kept saying, "You have brought me new life—you have brought me new life."

There was one piece of news brought by Stanley to Livingstone that was far from satisfactory. At Bagamoio, on the coast, Stanley had found a caravan with supplies for Livingstone that had been despatched from Zanzibar three or four months before, the men in charge of which had been lying idle there all that time on the pretext that they were waiting for carriers. A letter-bag was also lying at Bagamoio, although several caravans for Ujiji had left in the meantime. On hearing that the Consul at Zanzibar, Dr. Kirk, was coming to the neighborhood to hunt, the party at last made off. Overtaking them at Unyanyembe, Stanley took charge of Livingstone's stores, but was not able to bring them on; only he compelled the letter-carrier to come on to Ujiji with his bag. At what time, but for Stanley, Livingstone would have got his letters, which after all were a year on the way, he could not have told. For his stores, or such fragments of them as might remain, he had afterward to trudge all the way to Unyanyembe. His letters conveyed the news that Government had voted a thousand pounds for his relief, and were besides to pay him a salary[74]. The unpleasant feeling he had had so long as to his treatment by Government was thus at last somewhat relieved. But the goods that had lain in neglect at Bagamoio, and were now out of reach at Unyanyembe, represented one-half the Government grant, and would probably be squandered, like his other goods, before he could reach them.

[Footnote 74: The intimation of salary was premature. Livingstone got a pension of L800 afterward, which lasted only for a year and a half.]

The impression made on Stanley by Livingstone was remarkably vivid; and the portrait drawn by the American will be recognized as genuine by every one who knows what manner of man Livingstone was:

"I defy any one to be in his society long without thoroughly fathoming him, for in him there is no guile, and what is apparent on the surface is the thing that is in him.... Dr. Livingstone is about sixty years old, though after he was restored to health he looked like a man who had not passed his fiftieth year. His hair has a brownish color yet, but is here and there streaked with gray lines over the temples; his beard and moustaches are very gray. His eyes, which are hazel, are remarkably bright; he has a sight keen as a hawk's. His teeth alone indicate the weakness of age; the hard fare of Lunda has made havoc in their lines. His form, which soon assumed a stoutish appearance, is a little over the ordinary height, with the slightest possible bow in the shoulders. When walking he has a firm but heavy tread, like that of an overworked or fatigued man. He is accustomed to wear a naval cap with a semicircular peak, by which he has been identified throughout Africa. His dress, when first I saw him, exhibited traces of patching and repairing, but was scrupulously clean.

"I was led to believe that Livingstone possessed a splenetic, misanthropic temper; some have said that he is garrulous; that he is demented; that he is utterly changed from the David Livingstone whom people knew as the reverend missionary; that he takes no notes or observations but such as those which no other person could read but himself, and it was reported, before I proceeded to Africa, that he was married to an African princess.

"I respectfully beg to differ with all and each of the above statements. I grant he is not an angel; but he approaches to that being as near as the nature of a living man will allow. I never saw any spleen or misanthropy in him: as for being garrulous, Dr. Livingstone is quite the reverse; he is reserved, if anything; and to the man who says Dr. Livingstone is changed, all I can say is, that he never could have known him, for it is notorious that the Doctor has a fund of quiet humor, which he exhibits at all times when he is among friends." [After repudiating the charge as to his notes, and observations, Mr. Stanley continues:] "As to the report of his African marriage, it is unnecessary to say more than that it is untrue, and it is utterly beneath a gentleman even to hint at such a thing in connection with the name of Dr. Livingstone.

"You may take any point in Dr. Livingstone's character, and analyze it carefully, and I would challenge any man to find a fault in it.... His gentleness never forsakes him; his hopefulness never deserts him. No harassing anxieties, distraction of mind, long separation from home and kindred, can make him complain. He thinks 'all will come out right at last'; he has such faith in the goodness of Providence. The sport of adverse circumstances, the plaything of the miserable beings sent to him from Zanzibar—he has been baffled and worried, even almost to the grave, yet he will not desert the charge imposed upon him by his friend Sir Roderick Murchison. To the stern dictates of duty, alone, has he sacrificed his home and ease, the pleasures, refinements, and luxuries of civilized life. His is the Spartan heroism, the inflexibility of the Roman, the enduring resolution of the Anglo-Saxon—never to relinquish his work, though his heart yearns for home; never to surrender his obligations until he can write FINIS to his work.

"There is a good-natured abandon about Livingstone which was not lost on me. Whenever he began to laugh, there was a contagion about it that compelled me to imitate him. It was such a laugh as Teufelsdroeckh's—a laugh of the whole man from head to heel. If he told a story, he related it in such a way as to convince one of its truthfulness; his face was so lit up by the sly fun it contained, that I was sure the story was worth relating, and worth listening to.

"Another thing that especially attracted my attention was his wonderfully retentive memory. If we remember the many years he has spent in Africa, deprived of books, we may well think it an uncommon memory that can recite whole poems from Byron, Burns, Tennyson, Longfellow, Whittier, and Lowell....

"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 toward his servants but toward 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 willful 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....

"From being thwarted and hated in every possible way by the Arabs and half-castes upon his first arrival at 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, and sincere tone; and afterward delivers a short address in the Kisawahili language, about the subject read to them, which is listened to with evident interest and attention."

It was agreed that the two travelers should make a short excursion to the north end of Lake Tanganyika, to ascertain whether the lake had an outlet there. This was done, but it was found that instead of flowing out, the river Lugize flowed into the lake, so that the notion that the lake discharged itself northward turned out to be an error. Meanwhile, the future arrangements of Dr. Livingstone were matter of anxious consideration. One thing was fixed and certain from the beginning: Livingstone would not go home with Stanley. Much though his heart yearned for home and family—all the more that he had just learned that his son Thomas had had a dangerous accident,—and much though he needed to recruit his strength and nurse his ailments, he would not think of it while his work remained unfinished. To turn back to those dreary sponges, sleep in those flooded plains, encounter anew that terrible pneumonia which was "worse than ten fevers," or that distressing haemorrhage which added extreme weakness to extreme agony—might have turned any heart; Livingstone never flinched from it. What a reception awaited him if he had gone home to England! What welcome from friends and children, what triumphal cheers from all the great Societies and savants, what honors from all who had honors to confer, what opportunity of renewing efforts to establish missions and commerce, and to suppress the slave traffic! Then he might return to Africa in a year, and finish his work. If Livingstone had taken this course, no whisper would have been heard against it. The nobility of his soul never rose higher, his utter abandonment of self, his entire devotion to duty, his right honorable determination to work while it was called to-day never shone more brightly than when he declined all Stanley's entreaties to return home, and set his face steadfastly to go back to the bogs of the watershed. He writes in his journal: "My daughter Agnes says, '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.' Rightly and nobly said, my darling Nannie; vanity whispers pretty loudly, 'She is a chip of the old block,' My blessing on her and all the rest."

After careful consideration of various plans, it was agreed that he should go to Unyanyembe, accompanied by Stanley, who would supply him there with abundance of goods, and who would then hurry down to the coast, organize a new expedition composed of fifty or sixty faithful men to be sent on to Unyanyembe, by whom Livingstone would be accompanied back to Bangweolo and the sources, and then to Rua, until his work should be completed, and he might go home in peace.

A few extracts from Livingstone's letters will show us how he felt at this remarkable crisis. To Agnes:

"Tanganyika, 18th November, 1871—[After detailing his troubles in Manyuema, the loss of all his goods at Ujiji, and the generous offer of Syed bin Majid, he continues:] "Next I heard of an Englishman being at Unyamyembe with boats, etc., but who he was, none could tell. At last, one of my people came running out of breath and shouted, 'An Englishman coming!' and off he darted back again to meet him. An American flag at the head of a large caravan showed the nationality of the stranger. Baths, tents, saddles, big kettles, showed that he was not a poor Lazarus like me. He turned out to be Henry M. Stanley, traveling correspondent of the New York Herald, sent specially to find out if I were really alive, and, if dead, to bring home my bones. He had brought abundance of goods at great expense, but the fighting referred to delayed him, and he had to leave a great part at Unyamyembe. To all he had I was made free. [In a later letter, Livingstone says; 'He laid all he had at my service, divided his clothes into two heaps, and pressed one heap upon me; then his medicine-chest; then his goods and everything he had, and to coax my appetite, often cooked dainty dishes with his own hand.'] He came with the true American characteristic generosity. The tears often started into my eyes on every fresh proof of kindness. My appetite returned, and I ate three or four times a day, instead of scanty meals morning and evening. I soon felt strong, and never wearied with the strange news of Europe and America he told. The tumble down of the French Empire was like a dream...."

A long letter to his friend Sir Thomas Maclear and Mr. Mann, of the same date, goes over his travels in Manyuema, his many disasters, and then his wonderful meeting with Mr. Stanley at Ujiji. Speaking of the unwillingness of the natives to believe in the true purpose of his journey, he says: "They all treat me with respect, and are very much afraid of being written against; but they consider the sources of the Nile to be a sham; the true object of my being sent is to see their odious system of slaving, and if indeed my disclosures should lead to the suppression of the East Coast slave-trade, I would esteem that as a far greater feat than the discovery of all the sources together. It is awful, but I cannot speak of the slaving for fear of appearing guilty of exaggerating. It is not trading; it is murdering for captives to be made into slaves." His account of himself in the journey from Nyangwe is dreadful: "I was near a fourth lake on this central line, and only eighty miles from Lake Lincoln on our west, in fact almost in sight of the geographical end of my mission, when I was forced to return [through the misconduct of his men] between 400 and 500 miles. A sore heart, made still sorer by the sad scenes I had seen of man's inhumanity to man, made this march a terrible tramp—the sun vertical, and the sore heat reacting on the physical frame. I was in pain nearly every step of the way, and arrived a mere ruckle of bones to find myself destitute." In speaking of the impression made by Mr. Stanley's kindness: "I am as cold and non-demonstrative as we islanders are reputed to be, but this kindness was overwhelming. Here was the good Samaritan and no mistake. Never was I more hard pressed; never was help more welcome."

During thirteen months Stanley received no fewer than ten parcels of letters and papers sent up by Mr. Webb, American Consul at Zanzibar, while Livingstone received but one. This was an additional ground for faith in the efficiency of Stanley's arrangements.

The journey to Unyanyembe was somewhat delayed by an attack of fever which Stanley had at Ujiji, and it was not till the 27th December that the travelers set out. On the way Stanley heard of the death of his English attendant Shaw, whom he had left unwell. On the 18th of February, 1872, they reached Unyanyembe, where a new chapter of the old history unfolded itself. The survivor of two head-men employed by Ludha Damji had been plundering Livingstone's stores, and had broken open the lock of Mr. Stanley's store-room and plundered him likewise. Notwithstanding, Mr. Stanley was able to give Livingstone a large amount of calico, beads, brass wire, copper sheets, a tent, boat, bath, cooking-pots, medicine-chest, tools, books, paper, medicines, cartridges, and shot. This, with four flannel shirts that had come from Agnes, and two pairs of boots, gave him the feeling of being quite set up.

On the 14th of March Mr. Stanley left Livingstone for Zanzibar, having received from him a commission to send him up fifty trusty men, and some additional stores. Mr. Stanley had authority to draw from Dr. Kirk the remaining half of the Government grant, but lest it should have been expended, he was furnished with a cheque for 5000 rupees on Dr. Livingstone's agents at Bombay. He was likewise intrusted with a large folio MS.* volume containing his journals from his arrival at Zanzibar, 28th January, 1866, to February 20, 1872, written out with all his characteristic care and beauty. Another instruction had been laid upon him. If he should find another set of slaves on the way to him, he was to send them back, for Livingstone would on no account expose himself anew to the misery, risk, and disappointment he had experienced from the kind of men that had compelled him to turn back at Nyangwe.

Dr. Livingstone's last act before Mr. Stanley left him was to write his letters—twenty for Great Britain, six for Bombay, two for New York, and one for Zanzibar. The two for New York were for Mr. Bennett of the New York Herald, by whom Stanley had been sent to Africa.

Mr. Stanley has freely unfolded to us the bitterness of his heart in parting from Livingstone. "My days seem to have been spent in an Elysian field; otherwise, why should I so keenly regret the near approach of the parting hour? Have I not been battered by successive fevers, prostrate with agony day after day lately? Have I not raved and stormed in madness? Have I not clenched my fists in fury, and fought with the wild strength of despair when in delirium? Yet, I regret to surrender the pleasure I have felt in this man's society, though so dearly purchased.... March 14th.—We had a sad breakfast together. I could not eat, my heart was too full; neither did my companion seem to have an appetite. We found something to do which kept us longer together. At eight o'clock I was not gone, and I had thought to have been off at five A.M.... We walked side by side; the men lifted their voices in a song. I took long looks at Livingstone, to impress his features thoroughly on my memory.... 'Now, my dear Doctor, the best friends must part. You have come far enough; let me beg of you to turn back.' 'Well,' Livingstone replied, 'I will say this to you: You have done what few men could do,—far better than some great travelers I know. And I am grateful to you for what you have done for me. God guide you safe home, and bless you, my friend,'—'And may God bring you safe back to us all, my dear friend. Farewell!'—'Farewell!"... My friendly reader, I wrote the above extracts in my Diary on the evening of each day. I look at them now after six months have passed away; yet I am not ashamed of them; my eyes feel somewhat dimmed at the recollection of the parting. I dared not erase, nor modify what I had penned, while my feelings were strong. God grant that if ever you take to traveling in Africa you will get as noble and true a man for your companion as David Livingstone! For four months and four days I lived with him in the same house, or in the same boat, or in the same tent, and I never found a fault in him. I am a man of a quick temper, and often without sufficient cause, I daresay, have broken the ties of friendship; but with Livingstone I never had cause for resentment, but each day's life with him added to my admiration for him."

If Stanley's feeling for Livingstone was thus at the warmest temperature, Livingstone's sense of the service done to him by Stanley was equally unqualified. Whatever else he might be or might not be, he had proved a true friend to him. He had risked his life in the attempt to reach him, had been delighted to share with him every comfort he possessed, and to leave with him ample stores of all that might be useful to him in his effort to finish his work. Whoever may have been to blame for it, it is certain that Livingstone had been afflicted for years, and latterly worried almost to death, by the inefficency and worthlessness of the men sent to serve him. In Stanley he found one whom he could trust implicitly to do everything that zeal and energy could contrive in order to find him efficient men and otherwise carry out his plans. It was Stanley therefore whom he commissioned to send him up men from Zanzibar. It was Stanley to whom he intrusted his Journal and other documents. Stanley had been his confidental friend for four months—the only white man to whom he talked for six years. It was matter of life and death to Livingstone to be supplied for this concluding piece of work far better than he had been for years back. What man in his senses would have failed in these circumstances to avail himself to the utmost of the services of one who had shown himself so efficient; would have put him aside to fall back on others, albeit his own countrymen, who, with all their good-will, had not been able to save him from robbery, beggary, and a half-broken heart.

Stanley's journey from Unyanyembe to Bagamoio was a perpetual struggle against hostile natives, flooded roads, slush, mire, and water, roaring torrents, ants and mosquitos, or, as he described it, the ten plagues of Egypt. On his reaching Bagamoio, on the 6th May, he found a new surprise. A white man dressed in flannels and helmet appeared, and as he met Stanley congratulated him on his splendid success. It was Lieutenant Henn, R.N., a member of the Search Expedition which the Royal Geographical Society and others had sent out to look for Livingstone. The resolution to organize such an Expedition was taken after news had come to England of the war between the Arabs and the natives at Unyanyembe, stopping the communication with Ujiji, and rendering it impossible, as it was thought, for Mr. Stanley to get to Livingstone's relief. The Expedition had been placed under command of Lieutenant Dawson, R.N., with Lieutenant Henn as second, and was joined by the Rev. Charles New, a Missionary from Mombasa, and Mr. W. Oswell Livingstone, youngest son of the Doctor. Stanley's arrival at Bagamoio had been preceded by that of some of his men, who brought the news that Livingstone had been found and relieved. On hearing this, Lieutenant Dawson hurried to Zanzibar to see Dr. Kirk, and resigned his command. Lieutenant Henn soon after followed his example by resigning too. They thought that as Dr. Livingstone had been relieved there was no need for their going on. Mr. New likewise declined, to proceed. Mr. W. Oswell Livingstone was thus left alone, at first full of the determination to go on to his father with the men whom Stanley was providing; but owing to the state of his health, and under the advice of Dr. Kirk, he, too, declined to accompany the Expedition, so that the men from Zanzibar proceeded to Unyanyembe alone.

On the 29th of May, Stanley, with Messrs. Henn, Livingstone, New, and Morgan, departed in the "Africa" from Zanzibar, and in due time reached Europe.

It was deeply to be regretted that an enterprise so beautiful and so entirely successful as Mr. Stanley's should have been in some degree marred by ebullitions of feeling little in harmony with the very joyous event. The leaders of the English Search Expedition and their friends felt, as they expressed it, that the wind had been taken out of their sails. They could not but rejoice that Livingstone had been found and relieved, but it was a bitter thought that they had had no hand in the process. It was galling to their feelings as Englishmen that the brilliant service had been done by a stranger, a newspaper correspondent, a citizen of another country. On a small scale that spirit of national jealousy showed itself, which on a wider arena has sometimes endangered the relations of England and America.

When Stanley reached England, it was not to be overwhelmed with gratitude. At first the Royal Geographical Society received him coldly. Instead of his finding Livingstone, it was surmised that Livingstone had found him. Strange things were said of him at the British Association at Brighton. The daily press actually challenged his truthfulness; some of the newspapers affected to treat his whole story as a myth. Stanley says frankly that this reception gave a tone of bitterness to his book—How I Found Livingstone—which it would not have had if he had understood the real state of things. But the heart of the nation was sound; the people believed in Stanley, and appreciated his service. At last the mists cleared away, and England acknowledged its debt to the American. The Geographical Society gave him the right hand of fellowship "with a warmth and generosity never to be forgotten." The President apologized for the words of suspicion he had previously used. Her Majesty the Queen presented Stanley with a special token of her regard. Unhappily, in the earlier stages of the affair, wounds had been inflicted which are not likely ever to be wholly healed. Words were spoken on both sides which cannot be recalled. But the great fact remains, and will be written on the page of history, that Stanley did a noble service to Livingstone, earning thereby the gratitude of England and of the civilized world.



CHAPTER XXII.

FROM UNYANYEMBE TO BANGWEOLO.

A.D. 1872-73.

Livingstone's long wait at Unyanyembe—His plan of operations—His fifty-ninth, birthday—Renewal of self-dedication—Letters to Agnes—to New York Herald—Hardness of the African battle—Waverings of judgment, whether Lualaba was the Nile or the Congo—Extracts from Journal—Gleams of humor—Natural history—His distress on hearing of the death of Sir Roderick Murchison—Thoughts on mission-work—Arrival of his escort—His happiness in his new men—He starts from Unyanyembe—Illness—Great amount of rain—Near Bangweolo—Incessant moisture—Flowers of the forest—Taking of observations regularly prosecuted—Dreadful state of the country from rain—Hunger—Furious attack of ants—Greatness of Livingstone's sufferings—Letters to Sir Thomas Maclear, Mr. Young, his brother, and Agnes—His sixtieth birthday—Great weakness in April—Sunday services and observations continued—Increasing illness—The end approaching—Last written words—Last day of his travels—He reaches Chitambo's village, in Ilala—Is found on his knees dead, on morning of 1st May—Courage and affection of his attendants—His body embalmed—Carried toward shore—Dangers and sufferings during the march—The party meet Lieutenant Cameron at Unyanyembe—Determine to go on—Ruse at Kasekera—Death of Dr. Dillon—The party reach Bagamoio, and the remains are placed on board a cruiser—The Search Expeditions from England—to East Coast under Cameron—to West Coast under Grandy—Explanation of Expeditions by Sir Henry Rawlinson—Livingstone's remains brought to England—Examined by Sir W. Fergusson and others—Buried in Westminster Abbey—Inscription on slab—Livingstone's wish for a forest grave—Lines from Punch—Tributes to his memory—Sir Bartle Frere—The Lancet—Lord Polwarth—Florence Nightingale.

When Stanley left Livingstone at Unyanyembe there was nothing for the latter but to wait there until the men should come to him who were to be sent up from Zanzibar Stanley left on the 14th March; Livingstone calculated that he would reach Zanzibar on the 1st May, that his men would be ready to start about the 22d May, and that they ought to arrive at Unyanyembe on the 10th or 15th July. In reality, Stanley did not reach Bagamoio till the 6th May, the men were sent off about the 25th, and they reached Unyanyembe about the 9th August. A month more than had been counted on had to be spent at Unyanyembe, and this delay was all the more trying because it brought the traveler nearer to the rainy season.

The intention of Dr. Livingstone, when the men should come, was to strike south by Ufipa, go round Tanganyika, then cross the Chambeze, and bear away along the southern shore of Bangweolo, straight west to the ancient fountains; from them in eight days to Katanga copper mines; from Katanga, in ten days, northeast to the great underground excavations, and back again to Katanga; from which N.N.W. twelve days to the head of Lake Lincoln. "There I hope devoutly," he writes to his daughter, "to thank the Lord of all, and turn my face along Lake Kamolondo, and over Lualaba, Tanganyika, Ujiji, and home."

His stay at Unyanyembe was a somewhat dreary one; there was little to do and little to interest him. Five days after Stanley left him occurred his fifty-ninth birthday. How his soul was exercised appears from the renewal of his self-dedication recorded in his Journal:

"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. DAVID LIVINGSTONE."

Frequent letters were written to his daughter from Unyanyembe, and they dwelt a good deal upon his difficulties, the treacherous way in which he had been treated, and the indescribable toil and suffering which had been the result. He said that in complaining to Dr. Kirk of the men whom he had employed, and the disgraceful use they had made of his (Kirk's) name, he never meant to charge him with being the author of their crimes, and it never occurred to him to say to Kirk, "I don't believe you to be the traitor they imply;" but Kirk took his complaint in high dudgeon as a covert attack upon himself, and did not act toward him as he ought to have done, considering what he owed him. His cordial and uniform testimony of Stanley was, "altogether he has behaved right nobly."

On the 1st May he finished a letter for the New York Herald, and asked God's blessing on it. It contained the memorable words afterward inscribed on the stone to his memory in Westminster Abbey: "All I can add in my loneliness is, may Heaven's rich blessing come down on every one—American, English, or Turk—who will help to heal the open sore of the world." It happened that the words were written precisely a year before his death.

Amid the universal darkness around him, the universal ignorance of God and of the grace and love of Jesus Christ, it was hard to believe that Africa should ever be won. He had to strengthen his faith amid this universal desolation. We read in his Journal:

"13th May.—He will keep his word—the gracious One, full of grace and truth; no doubt of it. He said: 'Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out;' and 'Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, I will give it.' He WILL keep his word: then I can come and humbly present my petition, and it will be all right. Doubt is here inadmissible, surely, D.L."

His mind ruminates on the river system of the country and the probability of his being in error:

"2lst May.—I wish I had some of the assurance possessed by others, but I am oppressed with the apprehension that, after all, it may turn out that I have been following the Congo; and who would risk being put into a cannibal pot, and converted into black man for it?"

"31st May.—In reference to this Nile source, I have been kept in perpetual doubt and perplexity. I know too much to be positive. Great Lualaba, or Lualubba, as Manyuema say, may turn out to be the Congo, and Nile a shorter river after all[75]. The fountains flowing north and south seem in favor of its being the Nile. Great westing is in favor of the Congo."

[Footnote 75: From false punctuation, this passage is unintelligible in the Last Journals, vol. ii. p. 193.]

"24th June.—The medical education has led me to a continual tendency to suspend the judgment. What a state of blessedness it would have been, had I possessed the dead certainty of the homoeopathic persuasion, and as soon as I found the Lakes Bangweolo, Moero, and Kamolondo, pouring out their waters down the great central valley, bellowed out, 'Hurrah! Eureka!' and gone home in firm and honest belief that I had settled it, and no mistake. Instead of that, I am even now not at all 'cock-sure' that I have not been following down what may after all be the Congo."

We now know that this was just what he had been doing. But we honor him all the more for the diffidence that would not adopt a conclusion while any part of the evidence was wanting, and that led him to encounter unexampled risks and hardships before he would affirm his favorite view as a fact. The moral lesson thus enforced is invaluable. We are almost thankful that Livingstone never got his doubts solved, it would have been such a disappointment; even had he known that in all time coming the great stream which had cast on him such a resistless spell would be known as the Livingstone River, and would perpetuate the memory of his life and his efforts for the good of Africa.

Occasionally his Journal gives a gleam, of humor: "18th June.—The Ptolemaic map defines people according to their food,—the Elephantophagi, the Struthiophagi, the Ichthiophagi, and the Anthropophagi, If we followed the same sort of classification, our definition would be by the drink, thus: the tribe of stout-guzzlers, the roaring potheen-fuddlers, the whisky-fishoid-drinkers, the vin-ordinaire bibbers, the lager-beer-swillers, and an outlying tribe of the brandy cocktail persuasion."

Natural History furnishes an unfailing interest: "19th June.—Whydahs, though full-fledged, still gladly take a feed from their dam, putting down the breast to the ground, and cocking up the bill and chirruping in the most engaging manner and winning way they know. She still gives them a little, but administers a friendly shove-off too. They all pick up feathers or grass, and hop from side to side of their mates, as if saying, 'Come, let us play at making little houses.' The wagtail has shaken her young quite off, and has a new nest. She warbles prettily, very much like a canary, and is extremely active in catching flies, but eats crumbs of bread-and-milk too. Sun-birds visit the pomegranate flowers, and eat insects therein too, as well as nectar. The young whydah birds crouch closely together at night for heat. They look like a woolly ball on a branch. By day they engage in pairing and coaxing each other. They come to the same twig every night. Like children, they try and lift heavy weights of feathers above their strength."

On 3d July a very sad entry occurs: "Received a note from Oswell, written in April last, containing the sad intelligence of Sir Roderick's departure from among us. Alas! alas! this is the only time in my life I ever felt inclined to use the word, and it bespeaks a sore heart; the best friend I ever had,—true, warm, and abiding,—he loved me more than I deserved; he looks down on me still." This entry indicates extraordinary depth of emotion. Sir Roderick exercised a kind of spell on Livingstone. Respect for him was one of the subordinate motives that induced him to undertake this journey. The hope of giving him satisfaction was one of the subordinate rewards to which he looked forward. His death was to Livingstone a kind of scientific widowhood, and must have deprived him of a great spring to exertion in this last wandering. On Sir Roderick's part the affection for him was very great. "Looking back," says his biographer, Professor Geikie, "upon his scientific career when not far from its close, Murchison found no part of it which brought more pleasing recollections than the support he had given to African explorers—Speke, Grant, notably Livingstone. 'I rejoice,' he said, 'in the steadfast tenacity with which I have upheld my confidence in the ultimate success of the last-named of these brave men. In fact, it was the confidence I placed in the undying vigor of my dear friend Livingstone which has sustained me in the hope that I might live to enjoy the supreme delight of welcoming him back to his own country.' But that consummation was not to be. He himself was gathered to his rest just six days before Stanley brought news and relief to the forlorn traveler on Lake Tanganyika. And Livingstone, while still in pursuit of his quest, and within ten months of his death, learned in the heart of Africa the tidings which he chronicled in his journal[76]."

[Footnote 76: Life of Sir R. I. Murchison, vol. ii. pp. 297-8.]

At other times he is ruminating on mission-work:

"10th July.—No great difficulty would be encountered in establishing a Christian mission a hundred miles or so from the East Coast.... To the natives the chief attention of the mission should be directed. It would not be desirable or advisable to refuse explanation to others; but I have avoided giving offense to intelligent Arabs, who, having pressed me, asking if I believed in Mohamed, by saying, 'No, I do not; I am a child of Jesus bin Miriam,' avoiding anything offensive in my tone, and often adding that Mohamed found their forefathers bowing down to trees and stones, and did good to them by forbidding idolatry, and teaching the worship of the only One God. This they all know, and it pleases them to have it recognized. It might be good policy to hire a respectable Arab to engage free porters, and conduct the mission to the country chosen, and obtain permission from the chief to build temporary houses.... A couple of Europeans beginning and carrying on a mission without a staff of foreign attendants, implies coarse country fare, it is true; but this would be nothing to those who at home amuse themselves with vigils, fasting, etc. A great deal of power is thus lost in the Church. Fastings and vigils, without a special object in view, are time run to waste. They are made to minister to a sort of self-gratification, instead of being turned to account for the good of others. They are like groaning in sickness: some people amuse themselves when ill with continuous moaning. The forty days of Lent might be annually spent in visiting adjacent tribes, and bearing unavoidable hunger and thirst with a good grace. Considering the greatness of the object to be attained, men might go without sugar, coffee, tea, as I went from September, 1866, to December, 1868, without either."

On the subject of Missions he says, at a later period, 8th November: "The spirit of missions is the spirit of our Master; the very genius of his religion. A diffusive philanthropy is Christianity itself. It requires perpetual propagation to attest its genuineness."

Thanks to Mr. Stanley and the American Consul, who made arrangements in a way that drew Livingstone's warmest gratitude, his escort arrived at last, consisting of fifty-seven men and boys. Several of these had gone with Mr. Stanley from Unyanyembe to Zanzibar; among the new men were some Nassick pupils who had been sent from Bombay to join Lieutenant Dawson. John and Jacob Wainwright were among these. To Jacob Wainwright, who was well-educated, we owe the earliest narrative that appeared of the last eight months of Livingstone's career. How happy he was with the men now sent to him appears from a letter to Mr. Stanley, written very near his death: "I am perpetually reminded that I owe a great deal to you for the men, you sent. With one exception, the party is working like a machine. I give my orders to Manwa Sera, and never have to repeat them." Would that he had had such a company before!

On the 25th August the party started. On the 8th October they reached Tanganyika, and rested, for they were tired, and several were sick, including Livingstone, who had been ill with his bowel disorder. The march went on slowly, and with few incidents. As the season advanced, rain, mist, swollen streams, and swampy ground became familiar. At the end of the year they were approaching the river Chambeze. Christmas had its thanksgiving: "I thank the good Lord for the good gift of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord."

In the second week of January they came near Bangweolo, and the reign of Neptune became incessant. We are told of cold rainy weather; sometimes a drizzle, sometimes an incessant pour; swollen streams and increasing sponges,—making progress a continual struggle. Yet, as he passes through a forest, he has an eye to its flowers, which are numerous and beautiful:

"There are many flowers in the forest; marigolds, a white jonquil-looking flower without smell, many orchids, white, yellow, and pink asclepias, with bunches of French-white flowers, clematis—Methonica gloriosa, gladiolus, and blue and deep purple polygalas, grasses with white starry seed-vessels, and spikelets of brownish red and yellow. Besides these, there are beautiful blue flowering bulbs, and new flowers of pretty, delicate form and but little scent. To this list may be added balsams, composite of blood-red color and of purple; other flowers of liver color, bright canary yellow, pink orchids on spikes thickly covered all round, and of three inches in length; spiderworts of fine blue or yellow or even pink. Different colored asclepiadeae; beautiful yellow and red umbelliferous flowering plants; dill and wild parsnips; pretty flowering aloes, yellow and red, in one whorl of blossoms; peas and many other flowering plants which I do not know."

Observations were taken with unremitting diligence, except when, as was now common, nothing could be seen in the heavens. As they advanced, the weather became worse. It rained as if nothing but rain were ever known in the watershed. The path lay across flooded rivers, which were distinguished by their currents only from the flooded country along their banks. Dr. Livingstone had to be carried over the rivers on the back of one of his men, in the fashion so graphically depicted on the cover of the Last Journals. The stretches of sponge that came before and after the rivers, with their long grass and elephant-holes, were scarcely less trying. The inhabitants were, commonly, most unfriendly to the party; they refused them food, and, whenever they could, deceived them as to the way. Hunger bore down on the party with its bitter gnawing. Once a mass of furious ants attacked the Doctor by night, driving him in despair from hut to hut. Any frame but one of Iron must have succumbed to a single month of such a life, and before a week was out, any body of men, not held together by a power of discipline and a charm of affection unexampled in the history of difficult expeditions, would have been scattered to the four winds. Livingstone's own sufferings were beyond all previous example.

About this time he began an undated letter—his last—to his old friends Sir Thomas Maclear and Mr. Mann. It was never finished, and never despatched; but as one of the latest things he ever wrote, it is deeply interesting, as showing how clear, vigorous, and independent his mind was to the very last:

"LAKE BANGWEOLO, SOUTH CENTRAL AFRICA.

"MY DEAR FRIENDS MACLEAR AND MANN,—... My work at present is mainly retracing my steps to take up the thread of my exploration. It counts in my lost time, but I try to make the most of it by going round outside this lake and all the sources, so that no one may come afterward and cut me out. I have a party of good men, selected by H. M. Stanley, who, at the instance of James Gordon Bennett, of the New York Herald, acted the part of a good Samaritan truly, and relieved my sore necessities. A dutiful son could not have done more than he generously did. I bless him. The men, fifty-six in number, have behaved as well as Makololo. I cannot award them higher praise, though they have not the courage of that brave kind-hearted people. From Unyanyembe we went due south to avoid an Arab war which had been going on for eighteen months. It is like one of our Caffre wars, with this difference—no one is enriched thereby, for all trade is stopped, and the Home Government pays nothing. We then went westward to Tanganyika, and along its eastern excessively mountainous bank to the end. The heat was really broiling among the rocks. No rain had fallen, and the grass being generally burned off, the heat rose off the black ashes as if out of an oven, yet the flowers persisted in coming out of the burning soil, and generally without leaves, as if it had been a custom that they must observe by a law of the Medes and Persians. This part detained us long; the men's limbs were affected with a sort of subcutaneous inflammation,—black rose or erysipelas,—and when I proposed mildly and medically to relieve the tension it was too horrible to be thought of, but they willingly carried the helpless. Then we mounted up at once into the high, cold region Urungu, south of Tanganyika, and into the middle of the rainy season, with well-grown grass and everything oppressively green; rain so often that no observations could be made, except at wide intervals. I could form no opinion as to our longitude, and but little of our latitudes. Three of the Baurungu chiefs, one a great friend of mine, Nasonso, had died, and the population all turned topsy-turvy, so I could make no use of previous observations. They elect sisters' or brothers' sons to the chieftainship, instead of the heir-apparent. Food was not to be had for either love or money.

"I was at the mercy of guides who did not know their own country, and when I insisted on following the compass, they threatened, 'no food for five or ten days in that line.' They brought us down to the back or north side of Bangweolo, while I wanted to cross the Chambeze and go round its southern side. So back again southeastward we had to bend. The Portuguese crossed this Chambeze a long time ago, and are therefore the first European discoverers. We were not black men with Portuguese names like those for whom the feat of crossing the continent was eagerly claimed by Lisbon statesmen. Dr. Lacerda was a man of scientific attainments, and Governor of Tette, but finding Cazembe at the rivulet called Chungu, he unfortunately succumbed to fever ten days after his arrival. He seemed anxious to make his way across to Angola. Misled by the similarity of Chambeze to Zambesi, they all thought it to be a branch of the river that flows past Tette, Senna, and Shupanga, by Luabo and Kongone to the sea.

"I rather stupidly took up the same idea from a map saying 'Zambesi' (eastern branch), believing that the map printer had some authority for his assertion. My first crossing was thus as fruitless as theirs, and I was less excusable, for I ought to have remembered that while Chambeze is the true native name of the northern river, Zambesi is not the name of the southern river at all. It is a Portugese corruption of Dombazi, which we adopted rather than introduce confusion by new names, in the same way that we adopted Nyassa instead of Nyanza ia Nyinyesi == Lake of the Stars, which the Portuguese, from hearsay, corrupted into Nyassa. The English have been worse propagators of nonsense than Portuguese. 'Geography of Nyassa' was thought to be a learned way of writing the name, though 'Nyassi' means long grass and nothing else. It took me twenty-two months to eliminate the error into which I was led, and then it was not by my own acuteness, but by the chief Cazembe, who was lately routed and slain by a party of Banyamwezi. He gave me the first hint of the truth, and that rather in a bantering strain: 'One piece of water is just like another; Bangweolo water is just like Moero water, Chambeze water like Luapula water; they are all the same; but your chief ordered you to go to the Bangweolo, therefore by all means go, but wait a few days, till I have looked out for good men as guides, and good food for you to eat,' etc. etc.

"I was not sure but that it was all royal chaff, till I made my way back south to the head-waters again, and had the natives of the islet Mpabala slowly moving the hands all around the great expanse, with 183 deg. of sea horizon, and saying that is Chambeze, forming the great Bangweolo, and disappearing behind that western headland to change its name to Luapula, and run down past Cazembe to Moero. That was the moment of discovery, and not my passage or the Portuguese passage of the river. If, however, any one chooses to claim for them the discovery of Chambeze as one line of drainage of the Nile Valley, I shall not fight with him; Culpepper's astrology was in the same way the forerunner of the Herschels' and the other astronomers that followed."

To another old friend, Mr. James Young, he wrote about the same time: "Opere peracto ludemus—the work being finished, we will play—you remember in your Latin Rudiments lang syne. It is true for you, and I rejoice to think it is now your portion, after working nobly, to play. May you have a long spell of it! I am differently situated; I shall never be able to play.... To me it seems to be said, 'If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that be ready to be slain; if thou sayest, Behold we knew it not, doth not He that pondereth the heart consider, and He that keepeth thy soul doth He not know, and shall He not give to every one according to his works?' I have been led, unwittingly, into the slaving field of the Banians and Arabs in Central Africa. I have seen the woes inflicted, and I must still work and do all I can to expose and mitigate the evils. Though hard work is still to be my lot, I look genially on others more favored in their lot. I would not be a member of the 'International,' for I love to see and think of others enjoying life.

"During a large part of this journey I had a strong presentiment that I should never live to finish it. It is weakened now, as I seem to see the end toward which I have been striving looming in the distance. This presentiment did not interfere with the performance of any duty; it only made me think a great deal more of the future state of being."

In his latest letters there is abundant evidence that the great desire of his heart was to expose the slave-trade, rouse public feeling, and get that great hindrance to all good for ever swept away.

"Spare no pains," he wrote to Dr. Kirk in 1871, "in attempting to persuade your superior to this end, and the Divine blessing will descend on you and yours."

To his daughter Agnes he wrote (15th August, 1872): "No one can estimate the amount of God-pleasing good that will be done, if, by Divine favor, this awful slave-trade, into the midst of which I have come, be abolished. This will be something to have lived for, and the conviction has grown in my mind that it was for this end I have been detained so long."

To his brother in Canada he says (December, 1872): "If the good Lord permits me to put a stop to the enormous evils of the inland slave-trade, I shall not grudge my hunger and toils. I shall bless his name with all my heart. The Nile sources are valuable to me only as a means of enabling me to open my mouth with power among men. It is this power I hope to apply to remedy an enormous evil, and join my poor little helping hand in the enormous revolution that in his all-embracing Providence He has been carrying on for ages, and is now actually helping forward. Men may think I covet fame, but I make it a rule never to read aught written in my praise."

Livingstone's last birthday (19th March, 1873) found him in much the same circumstances as before. "Thanks to the Almighty Preserver of men for sparing me thus far on the journey of life. Can I hope for ultimate success? So many obstacles have arisen. Let not Satan prevail over me, O my good Lord Jesus." A few days after (24th March): "Nothing earthly will make me give up my work in despair. I encourage myself in the Lord my God, and go forward."

In the beginning of April, the bleeding from the bowels, from which he had been suffering, became more copious, and his weakness was pitiful; still he longed for strength to finish his work. Even yet the old passion for natural history was strong; the aqueous plants that abounded everywhere, the caterpillars that after eating the plants ate one another, and were such clumsy swimmers; the fish with the hook-shaped lower jaw that enabled them to feed as they skimmed past the plants; the morning summons of the cocks and turtle-doves; the weird scream of the fish eagle—all engaged his interest. Observations continued to be taken, and the Sunday services were always held.

But on the 21st April a change occurred. In a shaky hand he wrote: "Tried to ride, but was forced to lie down, and they carried me back to vil. exhausted." A kitanda or palanquin had to be made for carrying him. It was sorry work, for his pains were excruciating and his weakness excessive. On the 27th April[77] he was apparently at the lowest ebb, and wrote in his Journal the last words he ever penned—"Knocked up quite, and remain == recover sent to buy milch goats. We are on the banks of R. Molilamo."

[Footnote 77: This was the eleventh anniversary of his wife's death.]

The word "recover" seems to show that he had no presentiment of death, but cherished the hope of recovery; and Mr. Waller has pointed out, from his own sad observation of numerous cases in connection with the Universities Mission, that malarial poisoning is usually unattended with the apprehension of death, and that in none of these instances, any more than in the case of Livingstone, were there any such messages, or instructions, or expressions of trust and hope as are usual on the part of Christian men when death is near.

The 29th of April was the last day of his travels. In the morning he directed Susi to take down the side of the hut that the kitanda might be brought along, as the door would not admit it, and he was quite unable to walk to it. Then came the crossing of a river; then progress through swamps and plashes; and when they got to anything like a dry plain, he would ever and anon beg of them to lay him down. At last they got him to Chitambo's village, in Ilala, where they had to put him under the eaves of a house during a drizzling rain, until the hut they were building should be got ready.

Then they laid him on a rough bed in the hut, where he spent the night. Next day he lay undisturbed. He asked a few wandering questions about the country—especially about the Luapula. His people knew that the end could not be far off. Nothing occurred to attract notice during the early part of the night, but at four in the morning, the boy who lay at his door called in alarm for Susi, fearing that their master was dead. By the candle still burning they saw him, not in bed, but kneeling at the bedside with his head buried in his hands upon the pillow. The sad yet not unexpected truth soon became evident: he had passed away on the furthest of all his journeys, and without a single attendant. But he had died in the act of prayer—prayer offered in that reverential attitude about which he was always so particular; commending his own spirit, with all his dear ones, as was his wont, into the hands of his Saviour; and commending AFRICA—his own dear Africa—with all her woes and sins and wrongs, to the Avenger of the oppressed and the Redeemer of the lost.

If anything were needed to commend the African race, and prove them possessed of qualities fitted to make a noble nation, the courage, affection, and persevering loyalty shown by his attendants after his death might well have this effect. When the sad event became known among the men, it was cordially resolved that every effort should be made to carry their master's remains to Zanzibar. Such an undertaking was extremely perilous, for there were not merely the ordinary risks of travel to a small body of natives, but there was also the superstitious horror everywhere prevalent connected with the dead. Chitambo must be kept in ignorance of what had happened, otherwise a ruinous fine would be sure to be inflicted on them. The secret, however, oozed out, but happily the chief was reasonable. Susi and Chuma, the old attendants of Livingstone, became now the leaders of the company, and they fulfilled their task right nobly. The interesting narrative of Mr. Waller at the end of the Last Journals tells us how calmly yet efficiently they set to work. Arrangements were made for drying and embalming the body, after removing and burying the heart and other viscera. For fourteen days the body was dried in the sun. After being wrapped in calico, and the legs bent inward at the knees, it was enclosed in a large piece of bark from a Myonga-tree in the form of a cylinder; over this a piece of sail-cloth was sewed; and the package was lashed to a pole, so as to be carried by two men. Jacob Wainwright carved an inscription on the Mvula tree under which the body had rested, and where the heart was buried, and Chitambo was charged to keep the grass cleared away, and to protect two posts and a cross-piece which they erected to mark the spot.

They then set out on their homeward march. It was a serious journey, for the terrible exposure had affected the health of most of them, and many had to lie down through sickness. The tribes through which they passed were generally friendly, but not always. At one place they had a regular fight. On the whole, their progress was wonderfully quiet and regular. Everywhere they found that the news of the Doctor's death had got before them. At one place they heard that a party of Englishmen, headed by Dr. Livingstone's son, on their way to relieve his father, had been seen at Bagamoio some months previously. As they approached Unyanyembe, they learned that the party was there, but when Chuma ran on before, he was disappointed to find that Oswell Livingstone was not among them. Lieutenant Cameron, Dr. Dillon, and Lieutenant Murphy were there, and heard the tidings of the men with deep emotion. Cameron wished them to bury the remains where they were, and not run the risk of conveying them through the Ugogo country; but the men were inflexible, determined to carry out their first intention. This was not the only interference with these devoted and faithful men. Considering how carefully they had gathered all Livingstone's property, and how conscientiously, at the risk of their lives, they were carrying it to the coast, to transfer it to the British Consul there, it was not warrantable in the new-comers to take the boxes from them, examine their contents, and carry off a part of them. Nor do we think Lieutenant Cameron was entitled to take away the instruments with which all Livingstone's observations had been made for a series of seven years, and use them, though only temporarily, for the purpose of his Expedition, inasmuch as he thereby made it impossible so to reduce Livingstone's observations as that correct results should be obtained from them. Sir Henry Rawlinson seems not to have adverted to this result of Mr. Cameron's act, in his reference to the matter from the chair of the Geographical Society.

On leaving Unyanyembe the party were joined by Lieutenant Murphy, not much to the promotion of unity of action or harmonious feeling. At Kasekera a spirit of opposition was shown by the inhabitants, and a ruse was resorted to so as to throw them off their guard. It was resolved to pack the remains in such form that when wrapped in calico they should appear like an ordinary bale of merchandise. A fagot of mapira stalks, cut into lengths of about six feet, was then swathed in cloth, to imitate a dead body about to be buried. This was sent back along the way to Unyanyembe, as if the party had changed their minds and resolved to bury the remains there. The bearers, at nightfall, began to throw away the mapira rods, and then the wrappings, and when they had thus disposed of them they returned to their companions. The villagers of Kasekera had now no suspicion, and allowed the party to pass unmolested. But though one tragedy was averted, another was enacted at Kasekera—the dreadful suicide of Dr. Dillon while suffering from dysentery and fever.

The cortege now passed on without further incident, and arrived at Bagamoio in February, 1874. Soon after they reached Bagamoio a cruiser arrived from Zanzibar, with the acting Consul, Captain Prideaux, on board, and the remains were conveyed to that island previous to their being sent to England.

The men that for nine long months remained steadfast to their purpose to pay honor to the remains of their master, in the midst of innumerable trials and dangers and without hope of reward, have established a strong claim to the gratitude and admiration of the world. Would that the debt were promptly repaid in efforts to free Africa from her oppressors, and send throughout all her borders the Divine proclamation, "Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, good-will to men."

In regard to the Search party to which reference has been made, it may be stated that when Livingstone's purpose to go back to the barbarous regions where he had suffered so much before became known in England it excited a feeling of profound concern. Two Expeditions were arranged. That to the East Coast, organized by the Royal Geographical Society, was placed under Lieutenant Cameron, and included in its ranks Robert Moffat, a grandson of Dr. Moffat's, who (as has been already stated) fell early a sacrifice to fever. The members of the Expedition suffered much from sickness; it was broken up at Unyanyembe, when the party bearing the remains of Dr. Livingstone was met. The other party, under command of Lieutenant Grandy, was to go to the West Coast, start from Loanda, strike the Congo, and move on to Lake Lincoln. This Expedition was fitted out solely at the cost of Mr. Young. He was deeply concerned for the safety of his friend, knowing how he was hated by the slave-traders whose iniquities he had exposed, and thinking it likely that if he once reached Lake Lincoln he would make for the west coast along the Congo. The purpose of these Expeditions is carefully explained in a letter addressed to Dr. Livingstone by Sir Henry Rawlinson, then President of the Royal Geographical Society:

"LONDON, November 20, 1872.

"DEAR DR. LIVINGSTONE,—You will no doubt have heard of Sir Bartle Frere's deputation to Zanzibar long before you receive this, and you will have learnt with heartfelt satisfaction that there is now a definite prospect of the infamous East African slave-trade being suppressed. For this great end, if it be achieved, we shall be mainly indebted to your recent letters, which have had a powerful effect on the public mind in England, and have thus stimulated the action of the Government. Sir Bartle will keep you informed of his arrangements, if there are any means of communicating with the interior, and I am sure you will assist him to the utmost of your power in carrying out the good work in which he is engaged.

"It was a great disappointment to us that Lieutenant Dawson's Expedition, which we fitted out in the beginning of the year with such completeness, did not join you at Unyanyembe, for it could not have failed to be of service to you in many ways. We are now trying to aid you with a second Expedition under Lieutenant Cameron, whom we have sent out under Sir Bartle's orders, to join you if possible in the vicinity of Lake Tanganyika, and attend to your wishes in respect to his further movements. We leave it entirely to your discretion whether you like to keep Mr. Cameron with you or to send him on to the Victoria Nyanza, or any other points that you are unable to visit yourself. Of course the great point of interest connected with your present exploration is the determination of the lower course of the Lualaba. Mr. Stanley still adheres to the view, which you formerly held, that it drains into the Nile; but if the levels which you give are correct, this is impossible. At any rate, the opinion of the identity of the Congo and Lualaba is now becoming so universal that Mr. Young has come forward with a donation of L2000 to enable us to send another Expedition to your assistance up that river, and Lieutenant Grandy, with a crew of twenty Kroomen, will accordingly be pulling up the Congo before many months are over. Whether he will really be able to penetrate to your unvisited lake, or beyond it to Lake Lincoln, is, of course, a matter of great doubt; but it will at any rate be gratifying to you to know that support is approaching you both from the west and east. We all highly admire and appreciate your indomitable energy and perseverance, and the Geographical Society will do everything in its power to support you, so as to compensate in some measure for the loss you have sustained in the death of your old friend Sir Roderick Murchison. My own tenure of office expires in May, and it is not yet decided who is to succeed me, but whoever may be our President, our interest in your proceedings will not slacken. Mr. Waller will, I daresay, have told you that we have just sent a memorial to Mr. Gladstone, praying that a pension may be at once conferred upon your daughters, and I have every hope that our prayer may be successful. You will see by the papers, now sent to you, that there has been much acrimonious discussion of late on African affairs. I have tried myself in every possible way to throw oil on the troubled waters, and begin to hope now for something like peace. I shall be very glad to hear from you if you can spare time to send me a line, and will always keep a watchful eye over your interests.—I remain, yours very truly, "H.C. RAWLINSON."

The remains were brought to Aden on board the "Calcutta," and thereafter transferred to the P. and O. steamer "Malwa," which arrived at Southampton on the 15th of April. Mr. Thomas Livingstone, eldest surviving son of the Doctor, being then in Egypt on account of his health[78], had gone on board at Alexandria. The body was conveyed to London by special train and deposited in the rooms of the Geographical Society in Saville Row.

[Footnote 78: Thomas never regained robust health. He died at Alexandria, 15th March, 1876.]

In the course of the evening the remains were examined by Sir William Fergusson and several other medical gentleman, including Dr. Loudon, of Hamilton, whose professional skill and great kindness to his family had gained for him a high place in the esteem and love of Livingstone. To many persons it had appeared so incredible that the remains should have been brought from the heart of Africa to London, that some conclusive identification of the body seemed to be necessary to set all doubt at rest. The state of the arm, the one that had been broken by the lion, supplied the crucial evidence. "Exactly in the region of the attachment of the deltoid to the humerus" (said Sir William Fergusson in a contribution to the Lancet, April 18, 1874), "there were the indications of an oblique fracture. On moving the arm there were the indications of an ununited fracture. A closer identification and dissection displayed the false joint that had so long ago been so well recognized by those who had examined the arm in former days.... The first glance set my mind at rest, and that, with the further examination, made me as positive as to the identification of these remains as that there has been among us in modern times one of the greatest men of the human race—David Livingstone."

On Saturday, April 18, 1874, the remains of the great traveler were committed to their resting-place near the centre of the nave of Westminster Abbey. Many old friends of Livingstone came to be present, and many of his admirers, who could not but avail themselves of the opportunity to pay a last tribute of respect to his memory. The Abbey was crowded in every part from which the spectacle might be seen. The pall-bearers were Mr. H.M. Stanley, Jacob Wainwright, Sir T. Steele, Dr. Kirk, Mr. W.F. Webb, Rev. Horace Waller, Mr. Oswell, and Mr. E.D. Young. Two of these, Mr. Waller and Dr. Kirk, along with Dr. Stewart, who was also present, had assisted twelve years before at the funeral of Mrs. Livingstone at Shupanga. Dr. Moffat, too, was there, full of sorrowful admiration. Amid a service which was emphatically impressive throughout, the simple words of the hymn, sung to the tune of Tallis, were peculiarly touching:

"O God of Bethel! by whose hand Thy people still are fed, Who through this weary pilgrimage Hast all our fathers led."

The black slab that now marks the resting-place of Livingstone bears this inscription:

BROUGHT BY FAITHFUL HANDS OVER LAND AND SEA,

HERE RESTS

DAVID LIVINGSTONE,

MISSIONARY, TRAVELER, PHILANTHROPIST,

BORN MARCH 19, 1813, AT BLANTYRE, LANARKSHIRE.

DIED MAY 4,[79] 1873, AT CHITAMBO'S VILLAGE, ILALA.

[Footnote 79: In the Last Journals the date is 1st May; on the stone, 4th May. The attendants could not quite determine the day.]

For thirty years his life was spent in an unwearied effort to evangelize the native races, to explore the undiscovered secrets, and abolish the desolating slave-trade of Central Africa, and where, with his last words he wrote: "All I can say in my solitude is, may Heaven's rich blessing come down on every one—American, English, Turk— who will help to heal this open sore of the world."

Along the right border of the stone are the words:

TANTUS AMOR VERI, NIHIL EST QUOD NOSCERE MALIM QUAM FLUVII CAUSAS PER SAECULA TANTA LATEHTES.

And along the left border:

OTHER SHEEP I HAVE WHICH ARE NOT OF THIS FOLD, THEM ALSO I MUST BRING, AND THEY SHALL HEAR MY VOICE.

On the 25th June, 1868, not far from the northern border of that lake Bangweolo on whose southern shore he passed away, Dr. Livingstone came on a grave in a forest. He says of it:

"It was a little rounded mound, as if the occupant sat in it in the usual native way; it was strewed over with flour, and a number of the large blue beads put on it; a little path showed that it had visitors. This is the sort of grave I should prefer: to be in the still, still forest, and no hand ever disturb my bones. The graves at home always seemed to me to be miserable, especially those in the cold, damp clay, and without elbow-room; but I have nothing to do but wait till He who is over all decides where I have to lay me down and die. Poor Mary lies on Shupanga brae, 'and beeks fornent the sun.'"

"He who is over all" decreed that while his heart should lie in a leafy forest, in such a spot as he loved, his bones should repose in a great Christian temple, where many, day by day, as they read his name, would recall his noble Christian life, and feel how like he was to Him of whom it is written: "The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings to the meek: He hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn; to appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord; that He might be glorified."