"6th Nov., 1853.—Large audience. Kuruman people don't attend. If it is a fashion to be church-going, many are drawn into its observance. But placed in other circumstances, the true character comes out. This is the case with many Scotchmen. May God so imbue my mind with the spirit of Christianity that in all circumstances I may show my Christian character! Had a long conversation with Motlube, chiefly on a charm for defending the town or for gun medicine. They think I know it but will not impart the secret to them. I used every form of expression to undeceive him, but to little purpose. Their belief in medicine which will enable them to shoot well is very strong, and simple trust in an unseen Saviour to defend them against such enemies as the Matebele is too simple for them. I asked if a little charcoal sewed up in a bag were a more feasible protector than He who made all things, and told them that one day they would laugh heartily at their own follies in bothering me so much for gun medicine. A man who has never had to do with a raw heathen tribe has yet to learn the Missionary A B C."

On the 8th he writes:

"Our intentions are to go up the Leeba till we reach the falls, then send back the canoe and proceed in the country beyond as best we can. Matiamvo is far beyond, but the Cassantse (probably Cassange) live on the west of the river. May God in mercy permit me to do something for the cause of Christ in these dark places of the earth! May He accept my children for his service, and sanctify them for it! My blessing on my wife. May God comfort her! If my watch comes back after I am cut off, it belongs to Agnes. If my sextant, it is Robert's. The Paris medal to Thomas. Double-barreled gun to Zouga. Be a Father to the fatherless, and a Husband to the widow, for Jesus' sake."

The probability of his falling was full in his view. But the thought was ever in his mind, and ever finding expression in letters both to the Missionary and the Geographical Societies, and to all his friends,—"Can the love of Christ not carry the missionary where the slave-trade carries the trader?" His wagon and goods were left with Sekeletu, and also the Journal from which these extracts are taken[39]. It was well for him that his conviction of duty was clear as noonday. A year after, he wrote to his father-in-law:

[Footnote 39: This Journal is mentioned in the Missionary Travels as having been lost (p. 229). It was afterward recovered. It contains, among other things, some important notes on Natural History.]

I had fully made up my mind as to the path of duty before starting. I wrote to my brother-in-law, Robert Moffat: 'I shall open up a path into the interior, or perish.' I never have had the shadow of a shade of doubt as to the propriety of my course, and wish only that my exertions may be honored so far that the gospel may be preached and believed in all this dark region."



CHAPTER VIII.

FROM LINYANTI TO LOANDA.

A.D. 1853-1854.

Difficulties and hardships of journey—His traveling kit—Four books—His Journal—Mode of traveling—Beauty of country—Repulsiveness of the people—Their religious belief—The negro—Preaching—The magic-lantern—Loneliness of feeling—Slave-trade—Management of the natives—Danger from Chiboque—from another chief—Livingstone ill of fever—At the Quango—Attachment of followers—"The good time coming"—Portuguese settlements—Great kindness of the Portuguese—Arrives at Loanda—Received by Mr. Gabriel—His great friendship—No letters—News through Mr. Gabriel—Livingstone becomes aquainted with naval officers—Resolves to go back to Linyanti and make for East Coast—Letter to his wife—Correspondence with Mr. Maclear—Accuracy of his observations—Sir John Herschel—Geographical Society award their gold metal—Remarks of Lord Ellesmere.

The journey from Linyanti to Loanda occupied from the 11th November, 1853, to 31st May, 1854. It was in many ways the most difficult and dangerous that Livingstone had yet performed, and it drew out in a very wonderful manner the rare combination of qualities that fitted him for his work. The route had never been traversed, so far as any trustworthy tradition went, by any European. With the exception of a few of Sekeletu's tusks, the oxen needed for carrying, and a trifling amount of coffee, cloth, beads, etc., Livingstone had neither stores of food for his party, nor presents with which to propitiate the countless tribes of rapacious and suspicious savages that lined his path. The Barotse men who accompanied him, usually called the "Makololo," though on the whole faithful and patient, "the best that ever accompanied me," were a burden in one sense, as much as a help in another; chicken-hearted, ready to succumb to every trouble, and to be cowed by any chief that wore a threatening face. Worse if possible, Livingstone himself was in wretched health. During this part of the journey he had constant attacks of intermittent fever[40], accompanied in the latter stages of the road with dysentery of the most distressing kind. In the intervals of fever he was often depressed alike in body and in mind. Often the party were destitute of food of any sort, and never had they food suitable for a fever-stricken invalid. The vexations he encountered were of no common kind: at starting, the greater part of his medicines was stolen, much though he needed them; in the course of the journey, his pontoon was left behind; at one time, while he was under the influence of fever, his riding-ox threw him, and he fell heavily on his head; at another, while crossing a river, the ox tossed him into the water; the heavy rains, and the necessity of wading through streams three or four times a day, kept him almost constantly wet; and occasionally, to vary the annoyance, mosquitos would assail him as fiercely as if they had been waging a war of extermination. The most critical moments of peril, demanding the utmost coolness and most dauntless courage, would sometimes occur during the stage of depression after fever; it was then he had to extricate himself from savage warriors, who vowed that he must go back, unless he gave them an ox, a gun, or a man. The ox he could ill spare, the gun not at all, and as for giving the last—a man—to make a slave of, he would sooner die. At the best, he was a poor ragged skeleton when he reached those who had hearts to feel for him and hands to help him. Had he not been a prodigy of patience, faith, and courage, had he not known where to find help in all time of his tribulation, he would never have reached the haunts of civilized men.

[Footnote 40: The number of attacks was thirty-one.]

His traveling-kit was reduced to the smallest possible ilk; that he minded little, but he was vexed to be able to take so few books. A few days after setting out, he writes in his private Journal;

"I feel the want of books in this journey more than anything else. A Sichuana Pentateuch, a lined journal, Thomson's Tables, a Nautical Almanac, and a Bible, constitute my stock. The last constitutes my chief resource; but the want of other mental pabulum is felt severely. There is little to interest in the conversation of the people. Loud disputes often about the women, and angry altercations in which the same string of abuse is used, are more frequent than anything else."

The "lined journal," of which mention is made here, was probably the most wonderful thing of the kind ever taken on such a journey. It is a strongly bound quarto volume of more then 800 pages, with a lock and key. The writing is so neat and clear that it might almost be taken for lithograph. Occasionally there is a page with letters beginning to sprawl, as if one of those times had come when he tells us that he-could neither think nor speak, nor tell any one's name—possibly not even his own, if he had been asked it. He used to jot his observations on little note-books, and extend them when detained by rain or other causes.

The journal differs in some material respects from the printed record of this journey. It is much more explicit in setting forth the bad treatment he often received. When he spoke of these things to the public, he made constant use of the mantle of charity, and the record of many a bad deed and many a bad character is toned down. Naturally, too, the journal is more explicit on the subject of his own troubles, and more free in recording the play of his feelings. It does not hide the communings of his heart with his heavenly Father. It is built up in a random-rubble style; here a solemn prayer, in the next line a note of lunar observations; then a dissertation on the habits of the hippopotamus. Notes bearing on the character, the superstitions, and the feelings of the natives are of frequent occurrence. The explanation is, that Livingstone put down everything as it came, reserving the arranging and digesting of the whole to a future time. The extremely hurried manner in which he was obliged to write his Missionary Travels prevented him from fulfilling all his plan, and compelled him to content himself with giving to the public then what could be put most readily together. There are indications that he contemplated in the end a much more thorough use of his materials. It is not to be supposed that his published volumes contained all that he deemed worthy of publication, or that a censure is due to those who reproduce some portions which he passed over. As to the neat and finished form in which the Journal exists, it was one of the many fruits of a strong habit of orderliness and self-respect which he had begun to learn at the hand of his mother, and which he practiced all his life. Even in the matter of personal cleanliness and dress he was uniformly most attentive in his wanderings among savages. "I feel certain," he said, "that the lessons of cleanliness rigidly instilled by my mother in childhood helped to maintain that respect which these people entertain for European ways."

The course of the journey was first along the river Zambesi, as he had gone before with Sekeletu, to its junction with the Leeba, then along the Leeba to the country of Lobale on the left and Londa on the right. Then, leaving the canoes, he traveled on oxback first N.N.W. and then W. till he reached St. Paul de Loanda on the coast. His Journal, like the published volume, is full of observations on the beauty and wonderful capacity and productiveness of the country through which he passed after leaving the river. Instinctively he would compare it with Scotland. A beautiful valley reminds him of his native vale of Clyde, seen from the spot where Mary Queen of Scots saw the battle of Langside; only the Scottish scene is but a miniature of the much greater and richer landscape before him. At the sight of the mountains he would feel his Highland blood rushing through him, banishing all thoughts of fever and fatigue. If only the blessings of the gospel could be spread among the people, what a glorious land it would become! But alas for the people! In most cases they were outwardly very repulsive. Never seen without a spear or a club in their hands, the men seemed only to delight in plunder and slaughter, and yet they were utter cowards. Their mouths were full of cursing and bitterness. The execrations they poured on each other were incredible. In very wantonness, when they met they would pelt each other with curses, and then perhaps burst into a fit of laughter. The women, like the men, went about in almost total nudity, and seemed to know no shame. So reckless were the chiefs of human life, that a man might be put to death for a single distasteful word; yet sometimes there were exhibitions of very tender feeling. The headman of a village once showed him, with much apparent feeling, the burnt house of a child of his, adding,—"She perished in it, and we have all removed from our own huts and built here round her, in order to weep over her grave." From some of the people he received great kindness; others were quite different. Their character, in short, was a riddle, and would need to be studied more. But the prevalent aspect of things was both distressing and depressing. If he had thought of it continually, he would have become the victim of melancholy. It was a characteristic of his large and buoyant nature, that, besides having the resource of spiritual thought, he was able to make use of another divine corrective to such a tendency, to find delightful recreation in science, and especially in natural history, and by this means turn the mind away for a time from the dark scenes of man's depravity.

The people all seemed to recognize a Supreme Being; but it was only occasionally, in times of distress, that they paid Him homage. They had no love for Him like that of Christians for Jesus—only terror. Some of them, who were true negroes, had images, simple but grotesque. Their strongest belief was in the power of medicines acting as charms. They fully recognized the existence of the soul after death. Some of them believed in the metamorphosis of certain persons into alligators or hippopotamuses, or into lions. This belief could not be shaken by any arguments—at least on the part of man. The negroes proper interested him greatly; they were numerous, prolific, and could not be extirpated. He almost regretted that Mr. Moffat had translated the Bible into Sichuana. That language might die out; but the negro might sing, "Men may come and men may go, but I go on for ever."

The incessant attacks of fever from which Livingstone suffered in this journey, the continual rain occurring at that season of the year, the return of the affection of the throat for which he had got his uvula excised, and the difficulty of speaking to tribes using different dialects, prevented him from, holding his Sunday services as regularly as before. Such entries in his Journal as the following are but too frequent:

"Sunday, 19th.—Sick all Sunday and unable to move. Several of the people were ill too, so that I could do nothing but roll from side to side in my miserable little tent, in which, with all the shade we could give it, the thermometer stood upward of 90 deg.."

But though little able to preach, Livingstone made the most of an apparatus which in some degree compensated his lack of speech—a magic-lantern which his friend, a former fellow-traveler, Mr. Murray, had given him. The pictures of Abraham offering up Isaac, and other Bible scenes, enabled him to convey important truths in a way that attracted the people. It was, he says, the only service he was ever asked to repeat. The only uncomfortable feeling it raised was on the part of those who stood on the side where the slides were drawn out. They were terrified lest the figures, as they passed along, should take possession of them, entering like spirits into their bodies!

The loneliness of feeling engendered by the absence of all human sympathy was trying. "Amidst all the beauty and loveliness with which I am surrounded, there is still a feeling of want in the soul,—as if something more were needed to bathe the soul in bliss than the sight of the perfection in working and goodness in planning of the great Father of our spirits. I need to be purified—fitted for the eternal, to which my soul stretches away, in ever returning longings. I need to be made more like my blessed Saviour, to serve my God with all my powers. Look upon me, Spirit of the living God, and supply all Thou seest lacking."

It was Livingstone's great joy to begin this long journey with a blessed act of humanity, boldly summoning a trader to release a body of captives, so that no fewer than eighteen souls were restored to freedom. As he proceeded he obtained but too plain evidence of the extent to which the slave traffic prevailed, uniformly finding that wherever slavers had been, the natives were more difficult to deal with and more exorbitant in their demands. Slaves in chains were sometimes met with—a sight which some of his men had never beheld before.

Livingstone's successful management of the natives constituted the crowning wonder of this journey. Usually the hearts of the chiefs were wonderfully turned to him, so that they not only allowed him to pass on, but supplied him with provisions. But there were some memorable occasions on which he and his company appeared to be doomed. When he passed through the Chiboque country, the provisions were absolutely spent; there was no resource but to kill a riding-ox, a part of which, according to custom, was sent to the chief. Next day was Sunday. After service the chief sent an impudent message demanding much more valuable presents. His people collected round Livingstone, brandishing their weapons, and one young man all but brought down his sword on his head. It seemed impossible to avoid a fight; yet Livingstone's management prevailed—the threatened storm passed away.

Some days after, in passing through a forest in the dominions of another chief, he and his people were in momentary expectation of an attack. They went to the chiefs village and spoke to the man himself; and here, on a Sunday, while ill of fever, Livingstone was able to effect a temporary settlement. The chief sent them some food; then yams, a goat, fowl, and meat. Livingstone gave him a shawl, and two bunches of beads, and he seemed pleased. During these exciting scenes he felt no fever; but when they were over the constant wettings made him experience a sore sense of sinking, and this Sunday was a day "of perfect uselessness." Monday came, and while Livingstone was as low as possible, the inexorable chief renewed his demands. "It was," he says, "a day of torture."

"After talking nearly the whole day we gave the old chief an ox, but he would not take it, but another. I was grieved exceedingly to find that our people had become quite disheartened, and all resolved to return home. All I can say has no effect. I can only look up to God to influence their minds, that the enterprise fail not, now that we have reached the very threshold of the Portuguese settlements. I am greatly distressed at this change, for what else can be done for this miserable land I do not see. It is shut. O Almighty God, help, help! and leave not this wretched people to the slave-dealer and Satan. The people have done well hitherto, I see God's good influence in it. Hope He has left only for a little season. No land needs the gospel more than this miserable portion. I hope I am not to be left to fail in introducing it."

On Wednesday morning, however, final arrangements were made, and the party passed on in peace. Ten days later, again on a Sunday, they were once more pestered by a great man demanding dues. Livingstone replied by simply defying him. He might kill him, but God would judge. And on the Monday they left peaceably, thankful for their deliverance, some of the men remarking, in view of it, that they were "children of Jesus," and Livingstone thanking God devoutly for his great mercy. Next day they were again stopped at the river Quango. The poor Makololo had parted in vain with their copper ornaments, and Livingstone with his razors, shirts, etc.; yet he had made up his mind (as he wrote to the Geographical Society afterward) to part with his blanket and coat to get a passage, when a young Portuguese sergeant, Cypriano de Abrao, made his appearance, and the party were allowed to pass.

There were many proofs that, though a poor set of fellows, Livingstone's own followers were animated with extraordinary regard for him. No wonder! They had seen how sincere he was in saying that he would die rather than give any of them up to captivity. And all his intercourse with them had been marked by similar proofs of his generosity and kindness. When the ox flung him into the river, about twenty of them made a simultaneous rush for his rescue, and their joy at his safety was very great.

Amid all that was discouraging in the present aspect of things, Livingstone could always look forward and rejoice in the good time coming:

"Sunday 22d.—This age presents one great fact in the Providence of God; missions are sent forth to all quarters of the world,—missions not of one section of the Church, but of all sections, and from nearly all Christian nations. It seems very unfair to judge of the success of these by the number of conversions which have followed. These are rather proofs of the missions being of the right sort. They show the direction of the stream which is set in motion by Him who rules the nations, and Is destined to overflow the world. The fact which ought to stimulate us above all others is, not that we have contributed to the conversion of a few souls, however valuable these may be, but that we are diffusing a knowledge of Christianity throughout the world. The number of conversions in India is but a poor criterion of the success which has followed the missionaries there. The general knowledge is the criterion; and there, as well as in other lands where missionaries in the midst of masses of heathenism seem like voices crying in the wilderness—Reformers before the Reformation, future missionaries will see conversions follow every sermon. We prepare the way for them. May they not forget the pioneers who worked in the thick gloom with few rays to cheer, except such as flow from faith in God's promises! We work for a glorious future which we are not destined to see—the golden age which has not been, but will yet be. We are only morning-stars shining in the dark, but the glorious morn will break, the good time coming yet. The present mission-stations will all be broken up. No matter how great the outcry against the instrumentality which God employs for his purposes, whether by French soldiery as in Tahiti, or tawny Boers as in South Africa, our duty is onward, onward, proclaiming God's Word whether men will hear or whether they will forbear. A few conversions show whether God's Spirit is in a mission or not. No mission which has his approbation is entirely unsuccessful. His purposes have been fulfilled, if we have been faithful. 'The nation or kingdom that will not serve Thee shall utterly be destroyed'—this has often been preceded by free offers of friendship and mercy, and many missions which He has sent in the olden time seemed bad failures. Noah's preaching was a failure, Isaiah thought his so too. Poor Jeremiah is sitting weeping tears over his people, everybody cursing the honest man, and he ill-pleased with his mother for having borne him among such a set. And Ezekiel's stiff-necked, rebellious crew were no better. Paul said, 'All seek their own, not the things of Jesus Christ,' and he knew that after his departure grievous wolves would enter in, not sparing the flock. Yet the cause of God is still carried on to more enlightened developments of his will and character, and the dominion is being given by the power of commerce and population unto the people of the saints of the Most High. And this is an everlasting kingdom, a little stone cut out of a mountain without hands which shall cover the whole earth. For this time we work; may God accept our imperfect service!"

At length Livingstone began to get near the coast, reaching the outlying Portuguese stations. He was received by the Portuguese gentlemen with great kindness, and his wants were generously provided for. One of them gave him the first glass of wine he had taken in Africa. Another provided him with a suit of clothing. Livingstone invoked the blessing of Him who said, "I was naked and ye clothed me." His Journal is profuse in its admiration of some of the Portuguese traders, who did not like the slave-trade—not they, but had most enlightened views for the welfare of Africa. But opposite some of these eulogistical passages of the Journal there were afterward added an expressive series of marks of interrogation.

At a later date he saw reason to doubt the sincerity of some of the professions of these gentlemen. Ingenuous and trustful, he could at first think nothing but good of those who had shown him such marked attention. Afterward, the inexorable logic of facts proved too strong, even for his unsuspecting soul. But the kindness of the Portuguese was most genuine, and Livingstone never ceased to be grateful for a single kind act. It is important to note that whatever he came to think of their policy afterward, he was always ready to make this acknowledgment.

Arrived at Loanda, 31st May, 1854, with his twenty-seven followers, he was most kindly received by Mr. Edmund Gabriel, the British Commissioner for the suppression of the slave-trade there, and everything was done by him for his comfort. The sensation of lying on an English bed, after six months lying on the ground, was indescribably delightful. Mr. Gabriel was equally attentive to him during a long and distressing attack of fever and dysentery that prostrated him soon after his arrival at Loanda. In his Journal the warmest benedictions are poured on Mr. Gabriel, and blessings everlasting besought for his soul. One great disappointment he suffered at Loanda—not a single letter was awaiting him. His friends must have thought he could never reach it. This want of letters was a very frequent trial, especially to one who wrote so many, and of such length. The cordial friendship of Mr. Gabriel, however, was a great solace. He gave him much information, not only on all that concerned the slave-trade—now more than ever attracting his attention—but also on the natural history of the district, and he entered con amore into the highest objects of his mission. Afterward, in acknowledging to the Directors of the London Missionary Society receipt of a letter for Dr. Livingstone, intrusted to his care, Mr. Gabriel wrote as follows (20th March, 1856):

"Dr. Livingstone, after the noble objects he has achieved, most assuredly wants no testimony from me. I consult, therefore, the impulse of my own mind alone, when I declare that in no respect was my intercourse more gratifying to me than in the opportunities afforded to me of observing his earnest, active, and unwearied solicitude for the advancement of Christianity. Few, perhaps, have had better opportunities than myself of estimating the benefit the Christian cause in this country has derived from Dr. Livingstone's exertions. It is indeed fortunate for that sacred cause, and highly honorable to the London Missionary Society, when qualities and dispositions like his are employed in propagating its blessings among men. Irrespective, moreover, of his laudable and single-minded conduct as a minister of the Gospel, and his attainments in making observations which have determined the true geography of the interior, the Directors, I am sure, will not have failed to perceive how interesting and valuable are all the communications they receive from him—as sketches of the social condition of the people, and the material, fabrics, and produce Of these lands. I most fervently pray that the kind Providence, which has hitherto carried him through so many perils and hardships, may guide him safely to his present journey's end."

The friendship of Mr. Gabriel was honorable both to himself and to Dr. Livingstone. At a very early period he learned to appreciate Livingstone thoroughly, he saw how great as well as how good a man he was, and felt that to be the friend of such a man was one of the highest distinctions he could have. After Livingstone left Loanda, and while he was detained within reach of letters, a brisk correspondence passed between them; Mr. Gabriel tells him about birds, helps him in his schemes for promoting lawful commerce, goes into ecstasies over a watch-chain which he had got from him, tells him the news of the battle of the Alma in the Crimea, in which his friend, Colonel Steele, had distinguished himself, and of the success of the Rae Expedition in finding the remains of the party under Sir John Franklin. In an official communication to Lord Clarendon, after Livingstone had left, Mr. Gabriel says, 5th August, 1855: "I am grieved to say that this excellent man's health has suffered a good deal [on the return journey]. He nevertheless wrote in cheerful spirits, sanguine of success in doing his duty under the guidance and protection of that kind Providence who had always carried him through so many perils and hardships. He assures me that since he knew the value of Christianity, he has ever wished to spend his life in propagating its blessings among men, and adds that the same desire remains still as strong as ever."

While Livingstone was at Loanda, he made several acquaintances among the officers of Her Majesty's navy, engaged in the suppression of the slave-trade. For many of these gentlemen he was led to entertain a high regard. Their humanity charmed him, and so did their attention to their duties. In his early days, sharing the feeling then so prevalent in his class, he had been used to think of epauleted gentlemen as idlers, or worse—"fruges consumere nati" Personal acquaintance, as in so many other cases, rubbed off the prejudice. In many ways Livingstone's mind was broadening. His intensely sympathetic nature drew powerfully to all who were interested in what was rapidly becoming his own master-idea—the suppression of the slave-trade. We shall see proofs not a few, how this sympathetic affection modified some of his early opinions, and greatly widened the sphere of his charity.

After all the illness and dangers he had encountered, Livingstone might quite honorably have accepted a berth in one of Her Majesty's cruisers, and returned to England. But the men who had come with him from the Barotse country to Loanda had to return, and Livingstone knew that they were quite unable to perform the journey without him. That consideration determined his course. All the risks and dangers of that terrible road—the attacks of fever and dysentery, the protracted absence of those for whom he pined, were not to be thought of when he had a duty to these poor men. Besides, he had hot yet accomplished his object. He had, indeed, discovered a way by his friend Sekeletu might sell his tusks to far greater advantage, and which would thus help to introduce a legitimate traffic among the Makololo, and expel the slave-trade; but he had discovered no healthy locality for a mission, nor any unexceptional highway to the sea for the purpose of general traffic. The east coast seemed to promise better than the west. That great river, the Zambesi, might be found to be a navigable highway to the sea. He would return to Linyanti, and set out from it to find a way to the eastern shore. Loaded with kindness from many quarters, and furnished with presents for Sekeletu, and for the chiefs along the way, Livingstone bade farewell to Loanda on 20th September, 1854.

The following letter to Mrs. Livingstone, written a month afterward, gives his impressions of Loanda and the neighborhood;

"Golungo Alto, 25th October, 1854.—It occurs to me, my dearest Mary, that if I send you a note from different parts on the way through this colony, some of them will surely reach you; and If they carry any of the affection I bear to you in their composition, they will not fail to comfort you. I got everything in Loanda I could desire; and were there only a wagon-path for us, this would be as good an opening into the interior as we could wish. I remained rather a long time in the city in consequence of a very severe attack of fever and dysentery which reduced me very much; and I remained a short time longer than that actually required to set me on my legs, in longing expectation of a letter from you. None came, but should any come up to the beginning of November, it will come after me by post to Cassange.

"The [Roman Catholic] Bishop, who was then acting-governor, gave a horse, saddle, and bridle, a colonel's suit of clothes, etc., for Sekeletu, and a dress of blue and red cloth, with a white cotton blanket and cap to each of my companions, who are the best set of men I ever traveled with except Malatzi and Mebalwe. The merchants of Loanda gave Sekeletu a large present of cloth, beads, etc., and one of them, a Dutch-man, gave me an order for ten oxen as provisions on the way home to the Zambesi. This is all to encourage the natives to trade freely with the coast, and will have a good effect in increasing our influence for that which excels everything earthly. Everything has, by God's gracious blessing, proved more auspicious than I anticipated. We have a most warm-hearted friend in Mr. Gabriel. He acted a brother's part, and now writes me in the moat affectionate manner. I thank God for his goodness in influencing the hearts of so many to show kindness, to whom I was a total stranger. The Portuguese have all been extremely kind. In coming through the coffee plantations I was offered more coffee than I could take or needed, and the best in the world. One spoonful makes it stronger than three did of that we used. It is found wild on the mountains.

"Mr. Gabriel came about 30 miles with me, and ever since, though I spoke freely about the slave-trade, the very gentlemen who have been engaged in it, and have been prevented by our ships from following it, and often lost much, treated me most kindly in their houses, and often accompanied me to the next place beyond them, bringing food for all in the way. The common people are extremely civil, and a very large proportion of the inhabitants in one district called Ambaca can read and write well. They were first taught by the Roman Catholic missionaries, and now teach each other so well, it is considered a shame in an Ambacista not to be able to write his own name at least. But they have no Bibles. They are building a church at Ambaca, and another is in course of erection here, though they cannot get any priests. May God grant that we may be useful in some degree in this field also.... Give my love to all the children, they will reap the advantage of your remaining longer at home than we anticipated. I hope Robert, Agnes, and Tom are each learning as fast as they can. When will they be able to write a letter to me? How happy I shall be to meet them and you again! I hope a letter from you may be waiting for me at Zambesi. Love to all the children. How tall is Zouga? Accept the assurance of unabated love.

"DAVID LIVINGSTON."

It must not be forgotten that all this time Dr. Livingstone was making very careful astronomical observations, in order to determine his exact positions, and transmitting elaborate letters to the Geographical Society. His astronomical observations were regularly forwarded to his friend the Astronomer-Royal at the Cape, Mr. Maclear, for verification and correction.

Writing to Livingstone on 27th March, 1854, with reference to some of his earlier observations, after noticing a few trifling mistakes, Mr. Maclear says: "It is both interesting and amusing to trace your improvement as an observer. Some of your early observations, as you remark, are rough, and the angles ascribed to objects misplaced in transcribing. But upon the whole I do not hesitate to assert that no explorer on record has determined his path with the precision you have accomplished." A year afterward, 11th August, 1855, but with reference to papers received from Sekeletu's place, Mr. Maclear details what he had done in reducing his observations, preparing abstracts of them, sending them to the authorities, and publishing them in the Cape papers. He informs him that Sir John Herschel placed them before the Geographical Society, and that a warm eulogium on his labors and discoveries, and particularly on the excellent series of observations which fixed his track so exactly, appeared in the President's Address.

Then, referring to his wonderful journey to Loanda, and remarkable escapes, he says: "Nor is your escape with life from so many attacks of fever other than miraculous. Perhaps there is nothing on record of the kind, and it can only be explained by Divine interference for a good purpose. O may life be continued to you, my dear friend! You have accomplished more for the happiness of mankind than has been done by all the African travelers hitherto put together."

Mr. Maclear's reference to Livingstone's work, in writing to Sir John Herschel, was in these terms: "Such a man deserves every encouragement in the power of his country to give. He has done that which few other travelers in Africa can boast of—he has fixed his geographical points with very great accuracy, and yet he is only a poor missionary."

Nor did Dr. Livingstone pass unrewarded in other quarters. In the Geographical Society, his journey to Loanda, of which he sent them an account, excited the liveliest interest. In May, 1855, on the motion of Sir Roderick Murchison, the Society testified its appreciation by awarding him their gold medal—the highest honor they had to bestow. The occasion was one of great interest. From the chair, Lord Ellesmere spoke of Livingstone's work in science as but subordinate to those higher ends which he had ever prosecuted in the true spirit of a missionary. The simplicity of his arrangements gave additional wonder to the results. There had just appeared an account of a Portuguese expedition of African exploration from the East Coast:

"I advert to it," said his Lordship, "to point out the contrast between the two. Colonel Monteiro was the leader of a small army—some twenty Portuguese soldiers, and a hundred and twenty Caffres. The contrast is as great between such military array and the solitary grandeur of the missionary's progress, as it is between the actual achievements of the two—between the rough knowledge obtained by the Portuguese of some three hundred leagues of new country, and the scientific precision with which the unarmed and unassisted Englishman has left his mark on so many important stations of regions hitherto a blank."

About the time when these words were spoken, Dr. Livingstone was at Cabango on his return journey, recovering from a very severe attack of rheumatic fever which had left him nearly deaf; besides, he was almost blind in consequence of a blow received on the eye from a branch of a tree in riding through the forest. Notwithstanding, he was engaged in writing a despatch to the Geographical Society, through Sir Roderick Murchison, of which more anon, reporting progress, and explaining his views of the structure of Africa. But we must return to Loanda, and set out with him and his Makololo in proper on their homeward tour.



CHAPTER IX.

FROM LOANDA TO QUILIMANE.

A.D. 1854-1856.

Livingstone sets out from Loanda—Journey back—Effects of slavery—Letter to his wife—Severe attack of fever—He reaches the Barotse country—Day of thanksgiving—His efforts for the good of his men—Anxieties of the Moffats—Mr. Moffat's journey to Mosilikatse—Box at Linyanti—Letter from Mrs. Moffat—Letters to Mrs. Livingstone, Mr. Moffat, and Mrs. Moffat—Kindness of Sekeletu—New escort—He sets out for the East Coast—Discovers the Victoria Falls—The healthy longitudinal ridges—Pedestrianism—Great dangers—Narrow escapes—Triumph of the spirit of trust in God—Favorite texts—Reference to Captain Maclure's experience—Chief subjects of thought—Structure of the continent—Sir Roderick Murchison anticipates his discovery—Letters to Geographical Society—First letter from Sir Roderick Murchison—Missionary labor—Monasteries—Protestant mission-stations wanting in self-support—Letter to Directors—Fever not so serious an obstruction as it seemed—His own hardships—Theories of mission-work—Expansion v. Concentration—Views of a missionary statesman—He reaches Tette—Letter to King of Portugal—To Sir Roderick Murchison—Reaches Senna—Quilimane—Retrospect—Letter from Directors—Goes to Mauritius—Voyage home—Narrow escape from shipwreck in Bay of Tunis—He reaches England, Dec., 1856—News of his father's death.

Dr. Livingstone left St. Paul de Loanda on 24th September, 1854, arrived at his old quarters at Linyanti on 11th September, 1855, set out eastward on 3d November, 1855, and reached Quilimane on the eastern coast on 20th May, 1856. His journey thus occupied a year and eight months, and the whole time from his leaving the Cape on 8th June, 1852, was within a few days of four years. The return journey from Loanda to Linyanti took longer than the journey outward. This arose from detention of various kinds[41]: the sicknesses of Livingstone and his men, the heavy rains, and in one case, at Pungo Andongo, the necessity of reproducing a large packet of letters, journals, maps, and despatches, which he had sent off from Loanda. These were despatched by the mail-packet "Forerunner," which unhappily went down off Madeira, all the passengers but one being lost. But for his promise to the Makololo to return with them to their country, Dr. Livingstone would have been himself a passenger in the ship. Hearing of the disaster while paying a visit to a very kind and hospitable Portuguese gentleman at Pungo Andongo, on his way back, Livingstone remained there some time to reproduce his lost papers. The labor thus entailed must have been very great, for his ordinary letters covered sheets almost as large as a newspaper, and his maps and despatches were produced with extraordinary care.

[Footnote 41: Dr. Livingstone observed that traders generally traveled ten days in the month, and rested twenty, making seven geographical miles a day, or seventy per month. In his case in this journey the proportion was generally reversed—twenty days of traveling and ten of rest, and his rate per day was about ten geographical miles, or two hundred per month. As he often zigzagged, the geographical mile represented considerably, more. See letter to Royal Geographical Society, October 16, 1855.]

He found renewed occasion to acknowledge in the warmest terms the kindness he received from the Portuguese; and his prayers that God would reward and bless them were not the less sincere that in many important matters he could not approve of their ways.

In traversing the road backward along which he had already come, not many things happened that demand special notice in this brief sketch. We find him both in his published book and still more in his private Journal repeating his admiration of the country and its glorious scenery. This revelation of the marvelous beauty of a country hitherto deemed a sandy desert was one of the most astounding effects of Livingstone's travels on the public mind. But the more he sees of the people the more profound does their degradation appear, although the many instances of remarkable kindness to himself, and occasional cases of genuine feeling one toward another, convinced him that there was a something in them not quite barbarised. On one point he was very clear—the Portuguese settlements among them had not improved them. Not that he undervalued the influences which the Portuguese had brought to bear on them; he had a much more favorable opinion of the Jesuit missions than Protestants have usually allowed themselves to entertain, and felt both kindly and respectfully toward the padres, who in the earlier days of these settlements had done, he believed, a useful work. But the great bane of the Portuguese settlements was slavery. Slavery prevented a good example, it hindered justice, it kept down improvement. If a settler took a fancy to a good-looking girl, he had only to buy her, and make her his concubine. Instead of correcting the polygamous habits of the chiefs and others, the Portuguese adopted like habits themselves. In one thing indeed they were far superior to the Boers—in their treatment of the children born to them by native mothers. But the whole system of slavery gendered a blight which nothing could counteract; to make Africa a prosperous land, liberty must be proclaimed to the captive, and the slave system, with all its accursed surroundings, brought conclusively to an end. Writing to Mrs. Livingstone from Bashinge, 20th March, 1855, he gives, some painful particulars of the slave-trade. Referring to a slave-agent with whom he had been, he says:

"This agent is about the same in appearance as Mebalwe, and speaks Portuguese as the Griquas do Dutch. He has two chainsful of women going to be sold for the ivory. Formerly the trade went from the interior into the Portuguese territory; now it goes the opposite way. This is the effect of the Portuguese love of the trade: they cannot send them abroad on account of our ships of war on the coast, yet will sell them to the best advantage. These women are decent-looking, as much so as the general run of Kuruman ladies, and' were caught lately in a skirmish the Portuguese had with their tribe; and they will be sold for about three tusks each. Each has an iron ring round the wrist, and that is attached to the chain, which she carries in the hand to prevent it jerking and hurting the wrist. How would Nannie like to be thus treated? and yet it is only by the goodness of God in appointing our lot in different circumstances that we are not similarly degraded, for we have the same evil nature, which is so degraded in them as to allow of men treating them as beasts.

"I long for the time when I shall see you again. I hope in God's mercy for that pleasure. How are my dear ones? I have not seen any equal to them since I put them on board ship. My brave little dears! I only hope God will show us mercy, and make them good too....

"I work at the interior languages when I have a little time, and also at Portuguese, which I like from being so much like Latin. Indeed, when I came I understood much that was said from its similarity to that tongue, and when I interlarded my attempts at Portuguese with Latin, or spoke it entirely, they understood me very well. The Negro language is not so easy, but I take a spell at it every day I can. It is of the same family of languages as the Sichuana....

"We have passed two chiefs who plagued us much when going down, but now were quite friendly. At that time one of them ordered his people not to sell us anything, and we had at last to force our way past him. Now he came running to meet us, saluting us, etc., with great urbanity. He informed us that he would come in the evening to receive a present, but I said unless he brought one he should receive nothing. He came in the usual way. The Balonda show the exalted position they occupy among men, viz., riding on the shoulders of a spokesman in the way little boys do in England. The chief brought two cocks and some eggs. I then gave a little present too. The alteration in this gentleman's conduct—the Peace Society would not credit-it—is attributable solely to my people possessing guns. When we passed before, we were defenseless. May every needed blessing be granted to you and the dear children, is the earnest prayer of your ever most affectionate

"D. LIVINGSTON."

It was soon after the date of this letter that Livingstone was struck down by that severe attack of rheumatic fever, accompanied by great loss of blood, to which reference has already been made. "I got it," he writes to Mr. Maclear, "by sleeping in the wet. There was no help for it. Every part of a plain was flooded ankle-deep. We got soaked by going on, and sodden if we stood still." In his former journey he had been very desirous to visit Matiamvo, paramount chief of the native tribes of Londa, whose friendship would have helped him greatly in his journey; but at that time he found himself too poor to attempt the enterprise. The loss of time and consumption of goods caused by his illness on the way back prevented him from accomplishing his purpose now.

Not only was the party now better armed than before, but the good name of Livingstone had also become better known along the line, and during his return journey he did not encounter so much opposition. We cannot fail to be struck with his extraordinary care for his men. It was his earnest desire to bring them all back to their homes, and in point of fact the whole twenty-seven returned in good health. How carefully he must have nursed them in their attacks of fever, and kept them from unnecessary exposure, it is hardly possible for strangers adequately to understand.

On reaching the country of the Barotse, the home of most of them, a day of thanksgiving was observed (23d July, 1855). The men had made little fortunes in Loanda, earning sixpence a day for weeks together by helping to discharge a cargo of coals or, as they called them, "stones that burned." But, like Livingstone, they had to part with everything on the way home, and now they were in rags; yet they were quite as cheerful and as fond of their leader as ever, and felt that they had not traveled in vain. They quite understood the benefit the new route would bring in the shape of higher prices for tusks and the other merchandise of home. On the thanksgiving day—

"The men decked themselves out in their best, for all had managed to preserve their suits of European clothing, which, with their white and red caps, gave them a rather dashing appearance. They tried to walk like soldiers, and called themselves 'my braves.' Having been again saluted with salvos from the women, we met the whole population, and having given an address on divine things, I told them we had come that day to thank God before them all for his mercy in preserving us from dangers, from strange tribes and sicknesses. We had another service in the afternoon. They gave us two fine oxen to slaughter, and the women have supplied us abundantly with milk and meal. This is all gratuitous, and I feel ashamed that I can make no return. My men explain the whole expenditure on the way hither, and they remark gratefully: 'It does not matter, you have opened a path for us, and we shall have sleep.' Strangers from a distance come flocking to see me, and seldom come empty-handed. I distribute all presents among my men."

Several of the poor fellows on reaching home found domestic trouble—a wife had proved inconstant and married another man. As the men had generally more wives than one, Livingstone comforted them by saying that they still had as many as he.

Amid the anxieties and sicknesses of the journey, and multiplied subjects of thought and inquiry, Livingstone was as earnest as ever for the spiritual benefit of the people. Some extracts from his Journal will illustrate his efforts in this cause, and the flickerings of hope that would spring out of them, dimmed, however, by many fears:

August 5, 1855.—A large audience listened attentively to my address this morning, but it is impossible to indulge any hopes of such feeble efforts. God is merciful, and will deal with them in justice and kindness. This constitutes a ground of hope. Poor degraded Africa! A permanent station among them might effect something in time, but a Considerable time is necessary. Surely some will pray to their merciful Father in their extremity, who never would have thought of Him but for our visit."

"August 12.—A very good and attentive audience. Surely all will not be forgotten. How small their opportunity compared to ours who have been carefully instructed in the knowledge of divine truth from our earliest infancy! The Judge is just and merciful. He will deal fairly and kindly with all."

"October 15.—We had a good and very attentive audience yesterday, and I expatiated with great freedom on the love of Christ in dying, from his parting address in John xvi. It cannot be these precious truths will fall to the ground; but it is perplexing to observe no effects. They assent to the truth, but 'we don't know,' or 'you speak truly,' is all the response. In reading accounts of South Sea missions it is hard to believe the quickness of the vegetation of the good seed, but I know several of the men" [the South Sea missionaries], "and am sure they are of unimpeachable veracity. In trying to convey knowledge, and use the magic lantern, which is everywhere extremely popular, though they listen with apparent delight to what is said, questioning them on the following night reveals almost entire ignorance of the previous lesson. O that the Holy Ghost might enlighten them! To his soul-renewing influence my longing soul is directed. It is his word, and cannot die."

The long absence of Livingstone and the want of letters had caused great anxiety to his friends. The Moffats had been particularly concerned about him, and, in 1854, partly in the hope of hearing of him, Mr. Moffat undertook a visit to Mosilikatse, while a box of goods and comforts was sent to Linyanti to await his return, should that ever take place. A letter from Mrs. Moffat accompanied the box. It is amusing to read her motherly explanations about the white shirts, and the blue waistcoat, the woolen socks, lemon juice, quince jam, and tea and coffee, some of which had come all the way from Hamilton; but there are passages in that little note that make one's heart go with rapid beat:

"MY DEAR SON LIVINGSTON,—Your present position is almost too much for my weak nerves to suffer me to contemplate. Hitherto I have kept up my spirits, and been enabled to believe that our great Master may yet bring you out in safety, for though his ways are often inscrutable, I should have clung to the many precious promises made in his word as to temporal preservation, such as the 91st and 121st Psalms—but have been taught that we may not presume confidently to expect them to be fulfilled, and that every petition, however fervent, must be with devout submission to his will. My poor sister-in-law clung tenaciously to the 91st Psalm, and firmly believed that her dear husband would thus be preserved, and never indulged the idea that they should never meet on earth. But I apprehend submission was wanting. 'If it be Thy will,' I fancy she could not say—and, therefore, she was utterly confounded when the news came[42]. She had exercised strong faith, and was disappointed. Bear Livingstone, I have always endeavored to keep this in mind with regard to you. Since George [Fleming] came out it seemed almost hope against hope. Your having got so, thoroughly feverised chills my expectations; still prayer, unceasing prayer, is made for you. When I think of you my heart will go upward. 'Keep him as the apple of Thine eye,' 'Hold him in the hollow of Thy hand,' are the ejaculations of my heart."

[Footnote 42: Rev. John Smith, missionary at Madras, had gone to Vizagapatam to the ordination of two native pastors, and when returning in a small vessel, a storm arose, when he and all on board perished.]

In writing from Linyanti to his wife, Livingstone makes the best he can of his long detention. She seems to have put the matter playfully, wondering what the "source of attraction" had been. He says:

"Don't know what apology to make you for a delay I could not shorten. But as you are a mercifully kind-hearted dame, I expect you will write out an apology in proper form, and I shall read it before you with as long a face as I can exhibit. Disease was the chief obstacle. The repair of the wagon was the 'source of attraction' in Cape Town, and the settlement of a case of libel another 'source of attraction.' They tried to engulf me in a law-suit for simply asking the postmaster why some letters were charged double. They were so marked in my account. I had to pay L13 to quash it. They longed to hook me in, from mere hatred to London missionaries. I did not remain an hour after I could move. But I do not wonder at your anxiety for my speedy return. I am sorry you have been disappointed, but you know no mortal can control disease. The Makololo are wonderfully well pleased with the path we have already made, and if I am successful in going down to Quilimane, that will be still better. I have written you by every opportunity, and am very sorry your letters have been miscarried."

To his father-in-law he expresses his warm gratitude for the stores. It was feared by the natives that the goods were bewitched, so they were placed on an island, a hut was built over them, and there Livingstone found them on his arrival, a year after! A letter of twelve quarto pages to Mr. Moffat gives his impressions of his journey, while another of sixteen pages to Mrs. Moffat explains his "plans," about which she had asked more full information. He quiets her fears by his favorite texts for the present—"Commit thy way to the Lord," and "Lo, I am with you alway"; and his favorite vision of the future—the earth full of the knowledge of the Lord. He is somewhat cutting at the expense of so-called "missionaries to the heathen, who never march into real heathen territory, and quiet their consciences by opposing their do-nothingism to my blundering do-somethingism!" He is indignant at the charge made by some of his enemies that no good was done among the Bakwains. They were, in many respects, a different people from before. Any one who should be among the Makololo as he had been, would be thankful for the state of the Bakwains. The seed would always bear fruit, but the husbandman had need of great patience, and the end was sure.

Sekeletu had not been behaving well in Livingstone's absence. He had been conducting marauding parties against his neighbors, which even Livingstone's men, when they heard of it, pronounced to be "bad, bad." Livingstone was obliged to reprove him. A new uniform had been sent to the chief from Loanda, with which he appeared at church, "attracting more attention than the sermon." He continued, however, to 'show the same friendship for Livingstone, and did all he could for him when he set out eastward. A new escort of men was provided, above a hundred and twenty strong, with ten slaughter cattle, and three of his best riding oxen; stores of food were given, and a right to levy tribute over the tribes that were subject to Sekeletu as he passed through their borders. If Livingstone had performed these journeys with some long-pursed society or individual at his back, his feat even then would have been wonderful; but it becomes quite amazing when we think that he went without stores, and owed everything to the influence he acquired with men like Sekeletu and the natives generally. His heart was much touched on one occasion by the disinterested kindness of Sekeletu. Having lost their way on a dark night in the forest, in a storm of rain and lightning, and the luggage having been carried on, they had to pass the night under a tree. The chief's blanket had not been carried on, and Sekeletu placed Livingstone under it, and lay down himself on the wet ground. "If such men must perish before the white by an immutable law of heaven," he wrote to the Geographical Society (25th January, 1856), "we must seem to be under the same sort of terrible necessity in our Caffre wars as the American Professor of Chemistry said he was under, when he dismembered the man whom he had murdered."

Again Livingstone sets out on his weary way, untrodden by white man's foot, to pass through unknown tribes, whose savage temper might give him his quietus at any turn of the road. There were various routes to the sea open to him. He chose the route along the Zambesi—though the the most difficult, and through hostile tribes—because it seemed the most likely to answer his desire to find a commercial highway to the coast. Not far to the east of Linyanti, he beheld for the first time those wonderful falls of which he had only heard before, giving an English name to them,—the first he had ever given in all his African journeys,—the Victoria Falls. We have seen how genuine his respect was for his Sovereign, and it was doubtless a real though quiet pleasure to connect her name with the grandest natural phenomenon in Africa, This is one of the discoveries[43] that have taken most hold on the popular imagination, for the Victoria Falls are like a second Niagara, but grander and more astonishing; but except as illustrating his views of the structure of Africa, and the distribution of its waters, it had not much influence, and led to no very remarkable results. Right across the channel of the river was a deep fissure only eighty feet wide, into which the whole volume of the river, a thousand yards broad, tumbled to the depth of a hundred feet[44], the fissure being continued in zigzag form for thirty miles, so that the stream had to change its course from right to left and left to right, and went through the hills boiling and roaring, sending up columns of steam, formed by the compression of the water falling into its narrow wedge-shaped receptacle.

[Footnote 43: Virtually a discovery, though marked in an old map.]

[Footnote 44: Afterward ascertained by him to be 1800 yards and 820 feet respectively.]

A discovery as to the structure of the country, long believed in by him, but now fully verified, was of much more practical importance. It had been ascertained by him that skirting the central hollow there were two longitudinal ridges extremely favorable for settlements, both for missions and merchandise. We shall hear much of this soon.

Slowly but steadily the eastward tramp is continued, often over ground which was far from favorable for walking exercise. "Pedestrianism," said Livingstone, "may be all very well for those whose obesity requires much exercise; but for one who was becoming as thin as a lath through the constant perspiration caused by marching day after day in the hot sun, the only good I saw in it was that it gave an honest sort of a man a vivid idea of the tread-mill."

When Livingstone came to England, and was writing books, his tendency was rather to get stout than thin; and the disgust with which he spoke then of the "beastly fat" seemed to show that if for nothing else than to get rid of it he would have been glad to be on the tread-mill again. In one of his letters to Mr. Maclear he thus speaks of a part of this journey: "It was not likely that I should know our course well, for the country there is covered with shingle and gravel, bushes, trees, and grass, and we were without path. Skulking out of the way of villages where we were expected to pay after the purse was empty, it was excessively hot and steamy; the eyes had to be always fixed on the ground to avoid being tripped."

In the course of this journey he had even more exciting escapades among hostile tribes than those which he had encountered on the way to Loanda. His serious anxieties began when he passed beyond the tribes that owned the sovereignty of Sekeletu. At the union of the rivers Loangwa and Zambesi, the suspicious feeling regarding him reached a climax, and he could only avoid the threatened doom of the Bazimka (i.e. Bastard Portuguese) who had formerly incurred the wrath of the chief, by showing his bosom, arms, and hair, and asking if the Bazimka were like that. Livingstone felt that there was danger in the air. In fact, he never seemed in more imminent peril:

14th January, 1856.—At the confluence of the Loangwa and Zambesi. Thank God for his great mercies thus far. How soon I may be called to stand before Him, my righteous Judge, I know not. All hearts are in his hands, and merciful and gracious is the Lord our God. O Jesus, grant me resignation to Thy will, and entire reliance on Thy powerful hand. On Thy Word alone I lean. But wilt Thou permit me to plead for Africa? The cause is Thine. What an impulse will be given to the idea that Africa is not open if I perish now! See, O Lord, how the heathen rise up against me, as they did to Thy Son. I commit my way unto Thee. I trust also in Thee that Thou wilt direct my steps. Thou givest wisdom liberally to all who ask Thee—give it to me, my Father. My family is Thine. They are in the best hands. Oh! be gracious, and all our sins do Thou blot out.

'A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, On Thy kind arms I fall.'

Leave me not, forsake me not. I cast myself and all my cares down at Thy feet. Thou knowest all I need, for time and for eternity.

"It seems a pity that the important facts about the two healthy longitudinal ridges should not become known in Christendom. Thy will be done!... They will not furnish us with more canoes than two. I leave my cause and all my concerns in the hands of God, my gracious Saviour, the Friend of sinners.

"Evening.—Felt much turmoil of spirit in view of having all my plans for the welfare of this great region and teeming population knocked on the head by savages to-morrow. But I read that Jesus came and said, 'All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye therefore, and teach all nations—and lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world' It is the word of a gentleman of the most sacred and strictest honor, and there is an end on't. I will not cross furtively by night as I intended. It would appear as flight, and should such a man as I flee? Nay, verily, I shall take observations for latitude and longitude to-night, though they may be the last. I feel quite calm now, thank God.

"15th January, 1856.—Left bank of Loangwa. The natives of the surrounding country collected round us this morning all armed. Children and women were sent away, and Mburuma's wife who lives here was not allowed to approach, though she came some way from her village in order to pay me a visit. Only one canoe was lent, though we saw two tied to the bank. And the part of the river we crossed at, about a mile from the confluence, is a good mile broad. We passed all our goods first, to an island in the middle, then the cattle and men, I occupying the post of honor, being the last to enter the canoe. We had, by this means, an opportunity of helping each other in case of attack. They stood armed at my back for some time. I then showed them my watch, burning-glass, etc., etc., and kept them amused till all were over, except those who could go into the canoe with me. I thanked them all for their kindness and wished them peace."

Nine days later they were again threatened by Mpende:

"23d January, 1856.—At Mpende's this morning at sunrise, a party of his people came close to our encampment, using strange cries, and waving some red substance toward us. They then lighted a fire with charms in it, and departed uttering the same hideous screams as before. This is intended to render us powerless, and probably also to frighten us. No message has yet come from him, though several parties have arrived, and profess to have come simply to see the white man. Parties of his people have been collecting from all quarters long before daybreak. It would be considered a challenge—for us to move down the river, and an indication of fear and invitation to attack if we went back. So we must wait in patience, and trust in Him who has the hearts of all men in his hands. To Thee, O God, we look. And, oh! Thou who wast the man of sorrows for the sake of poor vile sinners, and didst not disdain the thief's petition, remember me and Thy cause in Africa. Soul and body, my family, and Thy cause, I commit all to Thee. Hear, Lord, for Jesus' sake."

In the entire records of Christian heroism, there are few more remarkable occasions of the triumph of the spirit of holy trust than those which are recorded here so quietly and modestly. We are carried back to the days of the Psalmist: "I will not be afraid of ten thousand of the people that have set themselves against me round about." In the case of David Livingstone as of the other David, the triumph of confidence was not the less wonderful that it was preceded by no small inward tumult. Both were human creatures. But in both the flutter lasted only till the soul had time to rally its trust—to think of God as a living friend, sure to help in time of need. And how real is the sense of God's presence! The mention of the two longitudinal ridges, and of the refusal of the people to give more than two canoes, side by side with the most solemn appeals, would have been incongruous, or even irreverent, if Livingstone had not felt that he was dealing with the living God, by whom every step of his own career and every movement of his enemies were absolutely controlled.

A single text often gave him all the help he needed:

"It is singular," he says, "that the very same text which recurred to my mind at every turn of my course in life in this country and even in England, should be the same as Captain Maclure, the discoverer of the Northwest Passage, mentions in a letter to his sister as familiar in his experience: 'Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not to thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct thy steps. Commit thy way unto thy Lord; trust also in Him and He shall bring it to pass.' Many more, I have no doubt, of our gallant seamen feel that it is graceful to acknowledge the gracious Lord in whom we live and move and have our being. It is an advance surely in humanity from that devilry which gloried in fearing neither God, nor man, nor Devil, and made our wooden walls floating hells."

His being enabled to reach the sanctuary of perfect peace in the presence of his enemies was all the more striking if we consider—what he felt keenly—that to live among the heathen is in itself very far from favorable to the vigor or the prosperity of the spiritual life. "Traveling from day to day among barbarians," he says in his Journal, "exerts a most benumbing effect on the religious feelings of the soul."

Among the subjects that occupied a large share of his thoughts in these long and laborious journeys, two appear to have been especially prominent: first, the configuration of the country; and second, the best way of conducting missions, and bringing the people of Africa to Christ.

The configuration of intertropical South Africa had long been with him a subject of earnest study, and now he had come clearly to the conclusion that the middle part was a table-land, depressed, however, in the centre, and flanked by longitudinal ridges on the east and west; that originally the depressed centre had contained a vast accumulation of water, which had found ways of escape through fissures in the encircling fringe of mountains, the result of volcanic action or of earthquakes. The Victoria Falls presented the most remarkable of these fissures, and thus served to verify and complete his theory. The great lakes in the great heart of South Africa were the remains of the earlier accumulation before the fissures were formed. Lake 'Ngami, large though it was, was but a little fraction of the vast lake that had once spread itself over the south. This view of the structure of South Africa he now found, from a communication which reached him at Linyanti, had been anticipated by Sir Roderick Murchison, who in 1852 had propounded it to the Geographical Society. Livingstone was only amused at thus losing the credit of his discovery; he contented himself with a playful remark on his being "cut out" by Sir Roderick. But the coincidence of views was very remarkable, and it lay at the foundation of that brotherlike intimacy and friendship which ever marked his relation with Murchison. One important bearing of the geographical fact was this; it was evident that while the low districts were unhealthy, the longitudinal ridges by which they were fringed were salubrious. Another of its bearings was, that it would help them to find the course and perhaps the sources of the great rivers, and thus facilitate commercial and missionary operations. The discovery of the two healthy ridges, which made him so unwilling to die at the mouth of the Loangwa, gave him new hopes for missions and commerce.

These and other matters connected with the state of the country formed the subject of regular communications to the Geographical Society. Between Loanda and Quilimane, six despatches were written at different points[45]. Formerly, as we have seen, he had written through a Fellow of the Society, his friend and former fellow-traveler, Captain, now Colonel Steele; but as the Colonel had been called on duty to the Crimea, he now addressed his letters to his countryman, Sir Roderick Murchison. Sir Roderick was charmed with the compliment, and was not slow to turn it to account, as appears from the following letter, the first of very many communications which he addressed to Livingstone:

[Footnote 45: The dates were Pungo Andongo, 24th December, 1864; Cabango, 17th May, 1855; Linyanti, October 16, 1855; Chanyuni, 25th January, 1856; Tette, 4th March, 1856; Quilimane, 23d May, 1856.]

"16 BELGRAVE SQUARE, October 2, 1855.

"MY DEAR SIR,—Your most welcome letter reached me after I had made a tour in the Highlands, and just as the meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science commenced.

"I naturally communicated your despatch to the Geographical section of that body, and the reading of it called forth an unanimous expression of admiration of your labors and researches.

"In truth, you will long ago, I trust, have received the cordial thanks of all British geographers for your unparalleled exertions, and your successful accomplishment of the greatest triumph in geographical research which has been effected in our times.

"I rejoice that I was the individual in the Council of the British Geographical Society who proposed that you should receive our first gold medal of the past session, and I need not say that the award was made by an unanimous and cordial vote.

"Permit me to thank you sincerely for having selected me as your correspondent in the absence of Colonel Steele, and to assure you that I shall consider myself as much honored, as I shall certainly be gratified, by every fresh line which you may have leisure to write to me.

"Anxiously hoping that I may make your personal acquaintance, and that you may return to us in health to receive the homage of all geographers,—I remain, my dear Sir, yours most faithfully,

"RODCK* I. MURCHISON,"

The other subject that chiefly occupied Livingstone's mind at this time was missionary labor. This, like all other labor, required to be organized, on the principle of making the very best use of all the force that was or could be contributed for missionary effort. With his fair, open mind, he weighed the old method of monastic establishments, and, mutatis mutandis, he thought something of the kind might be very useful. He thought it unfair to judge of what these monasteries were in their periods of youth and vigor, from the rottenness of their decay. Modern missionary stations, indeed, with their churches, schools, and hospitals, were like Protestant monasteries, conducted on the more wholesome principle of family life; but they wanted stability; they had not farms like monasteries, and hence they required to depend on the mother country. From infancy to decay they were pauper institutions. In Livingstone's judgment they needed to have more of the self-supporting element:

"It would be heresy to mention the idea of purchasing lands, like religious endowments, among the stiff Congregationalists; but an endowment conferred on a man who will risk his life in an unhealthy climate, in order, thereby, to spread Christ's gospel among the heathen, is rather different, I ween, from the same given to a man to act as pastor to a number of professed Christians.... Some may think it creditable to our principles that we have not a single acre of land, the gift of the Colonial Government, in our possession. But it does not argue much for our foresight that we have not farms of our own, equal to those of any colonial farmer."

Dr. Livingstone acknowledged the services of the Jesuit missionaries in the cause of education and literature, and even of commerce. But while conceding to them this meed of praise, he did not praise their worship. He was slow, indeed, to disparage any form of worship—any form in which men, however unenlightened, gave expression to their religious feelings; but he could not away with the sight of men of intelligence kissing the toe of an image of the Virgin, as he saw them doing in a Portuguese church, and taking part in services in which they did not, and could not, believe. If the missions of the Church of Rome had left good effects on some parts of Africa, how much greater blessing might not come from Protestant missions, with the Bible instead of the Syllabus as their basis, and animated with the spirit of freedom instead of despotism!

With regard to that part of Africa which he had been exploring, he gives his views at great length in a letter to the Directors, dated Linyanti, 12th October, 1855. After fully describing the physical features of the country, he fastens on the one element which, more than any other, was likely to hinder missions—fever. He does not deny that it is a serious obstacle. But he argues at great length that it is not insurmountable. Fever yields to proper treatment. His own experience was no rule to indicate what might be reckoned on by others. His journeys had been made under the worst possible conditions. Bad food, poor nursing, insufficient medicines, continual drenchings, exhausting heat and toil, and wearing anxiety had caused much of his illness. He gives a touching detail of the hardships incident to his peculiar case, from which other missionaries would be exempted, but with characteristic manliness he charges the Directors not to publish that part of his letter, lest he should appear to be making too much of his trials. "Sacrifices" he could never call them, because nothing could be worthy of that name in the service of Him who, though he was rich, for our sakes became poor. Two or three times every day he had been wet up to the waist in crossing streams and marshy ground. The rain was so drenching that he had often to put his watch under his arm-pit to keep it dry. His good ox Sindbad would never let him hold an umbrella. His bed was on grass, with only a horse-cloth between. His food often consisted of bird-seed, manioc-roots, and meal. No wonder if he suffered much. Others would not have all that to bear. Moreover, if the fever of the district was severe, it was almost the only disease. Consumption, scrofula, madness, cholera, cancer, delirium tremens, and certain contagious diseases of which much was heard in civilized countries, were hardly known. The beauty of some parts of the country could not be surpassed. Much of it was densely peopled, but in other parts the population was scattered. Many of the tribes were friendly, and, for reasons of their own, would welcome missionaries. The Makololo, for example, furnished an inviting field. The dangers he had encountered arose from the irritating treatment the tribes had received from half-cast traders and slave-dealers, in consequence of which they had imposed certain taxes on travelers, which, sometimes, he and his brother-chartists had refused to pay. They were mistaken for slave-dealers. But character was a powerful educator. A body of missionaries, maintaining everywhere the character of honest, truthful, kind-hearted Christian gentlemen, would scatter such prejudices to the winds.

In instituting a comparison between the direct and indirect results of missions, between conversion-work and the diffusion of better principles, he emphatically assigns the preference to the latter. Not that he undervalued the conversion of the most abject creature that breathed. To the man individually his conversion was of over whelming consequence, but with relation to the final harvest, it was more important to sow the seed broadcast over a wide field than to reap a few heads of grain on a single spot. Concentration was not the true principle of missions. The Society itself had felt this, in sending Morrison and Milne to be lost among the three hundred millions of China; and the Church of England, in looking to the Antipodes, to Patagonia, to East Africa, with the full knowledge that charity began at home. Time was more essential than concentration. Ultimately there would be more conversions, if only the seed were now more widely spread.

He concludes by pointing out the difference between mere worldly enterprises and missionary undertakings for the good of the world. The world thought their mission schemes fanatical; the friends of missions, on the other hand, could welcome the commercial enterprises of the world as fitted to be useful. The Africans were all deeply imbued with the spirit of trade. Commerce was so far good that it taught the people their mutual dependence; but Christianity alone reached the centre of African wants. "Theoretically," he concludes, "I would pronounce the country about the junction of the Leeba and Leeambye or Kabompo, and river of the Bashukulompo, as a most desirable centre-point for the spread of civilization and Christianity; but unfortunately I must mar my report by saying I feel a difficulty as to taking my children there without their intelligent self-dedication. I can speak for my wife and myself only. WE WILL GO, WHOEVER REMAINS BEHIND."

Resuming the subject some months later, after he had got to the sea-shore, he dwells on the belt of elevated land eastward from the country of the Makololo, two degrees of longitude broad, and of unknown length, as remarkably suitable for the residence of European missionaries. It was formerly occupied by the Makololo, and they had a great desire to resume the occupation. One great advantage of such a locality was that it was on the border of the regions occupied by the true negroes, the real nucleus of the African population, to whom they owed a great debt, and who had shown themselves friendly and disposed to learn. It was his earnest hope that the Directors would plant a mission here, and his belief that they would thereby confer unlimited blessing on the regions beyond.

Some of the remarks in these passages, and also in the extracts which we have given from his Journals, are of profound interest, as indicating air important transition from the ideas of a mere missionary laborer to those of a missionary general or statesman. In the early part of his life he deemed it his joy and his honor to aim at the conversion of individual souls, and earnestly did he labor and pray for that, although his visible success was but small. But as he gets better acquainted with Africa, and reaches a more commanding point of view, he sees the necessity for other work. The continent must be surveyed, healthy localities for mission-stations must be found, the temptations to a cursed traffic in human flesh must be removed, the products of the country must be turned to account; its whole social economy must be changed. "The accomplishment of such objects, even in a limited degree, would be an immense service to the missionary; it would be such a preparing of his way that a hundred years hence the spiritual results would be far greater than if all the effort now were concentrated on single souls. To many persons it appeared as if dealing with individual souls were the only proper work of a missionary, and as if one who had been doing such work would be lowering himself if he accepted any other. Livingstone never stopped to reason as to which was the higher or the more desirable work; he felt that Providence was calling him to be less of a missionary journeyman and more of a missionary statesman; but the great end was ever the same—

"THE END OF THE GEOGRAPHICAL FEAT is ONLY THE BEGINNING OF THE ENTERPRISE."

Livingstone reached the Portuguese settlement of Tette on the 3d March, 1856, and the "civilized breakfast" which the commandant, Major Sicard, sent forward to him, on his way, was a luxury like Mr. Gabriel's bed at Loanda, and made him walk the last eight miles without the least sensation of fatigue, although the road was so rough that, as a Portuguese soldier remarked, it was like "to tear a man's life out of him." At Loanda he had heard of the battle of the Alma; after being in Tette a short time he heard of the fall of Sebastopol and the end of the Crimean War. He remained in Tette till the 23d April, detained by an attack of fever, receiving extraordinary kindness from the Governor, and, among other tokens of affection, a gold chain for his daughter Agnes, the work of an inhabitant of the town. These gifts were duly acknowledged. It was at this place that Dr. Livingstone left his Makololo followers, with instructions to wait for him till he should return from England. Well entitled though he was to a long rest, he deliberately gave up the possibility of it, by engaging to return for his black companions.

In the case of Dr. Livingstone, rest meant merely change of employment, and while resting and recovering from fever, he wrote a large budget of long and interesting letters. One of these was addressed to the King of Portugal: it affords clear evidence that, however much Livingstone felt called to reprobate the deeds of some of his subordinates, he had a respectful feeling for the King himself, a grateful sense of the kindness received from his African subjects, and an honest desire to aid the wholesome development of the Portuguese colonies. It refutes, by anticipation, calumnies afterward circulated to the effect that Livingstone's real design was to wrest the Portuguese settlements in Africa from Portugal, and to annex them to the British Crown. He refers most gratefully to the great kindness and substantial aid he had received from His Majesty's subjects, and is emboldened thereby to address him on behalf of Africa. He suggests certain agricultural products—especially wheat and a species of wax—that might be cultivated with enormous profit. A great stimulus might be given to the cultivation of other products—coffee, cotton, sugar, and oil. Much had been done for Angola, but with little result, because the colonists' leant on Government instead of trusting to themselves. Illegitimate traffic (the slave-trade) was not at present remunerative, and now was the time to make a great effort to revive wholesome enterprise. A good road into the interior would be a great boon. Efforts to provide roads and canals had failed for want of superintendents. Dr. Livingstone named a Portuguese engineer who would superintend admirably. The fruits of the Portuguese missions were still apparent, but there was a great want of literature, of books.

"It will not be denied," concludes the letter, "that those who, like your Majesty, have been placed over so many human souls, have a serious responsibility resting upon them in reference to their future welfare. The absence also of Portuguese women In the colony is a circumstance which seems to merit the attention of Government for obvious reasons. And if any of these suggestions should lead to the formation of a middle class of free laborers, I feel sure that Angola would have cause to bless your Majesty to the remotest time."

Dr. Livingstone has often been accused of claiming for himself the credit of discoveries made by others, of writing as if he had been the first to traverse routes in which he had really been preceded by the Portuguese. Even were it true that now and then an obscure Portuguese trader or traveler reached spots that lay in Dr. Livingstone's subsequent route, the fact would detract nothing from his merit, because he derived not a tittle of benefit from their experience, and what he was concerned about was, not the mere honor of being first at a place, as if he had been running a race, but to make it known to the world, to bring it into the circuit of commerce and Christianity, and thus place it under the influence of the greatest blessings. But even as to being first, Livingstone was careful not to claim anything that was really due to others. Writing from Tette to Sir Roderick in March, 1856, he says: "It seems proper to mention what has been done in former times in the way of traversing the continent, and the result of my inquiries leads to the belief that the honor belongs to our country." He refers to the brave attempt of Captain Jose da Roga, in 1678, to penetrate from Benguela to the Rio da Senna, in which attempt, however, so much opposition was encountered that he was compelled to return. In 1800, Lacerda revived the project by proposing a chain of forts along the banks of the Coanza. In 1815, two black traders showed the possibility of communication from east to west, by bringing to Loanda communications from the Governor of Mozambique. Some Arabs and Moors went from the East Coast to Benguela, and with a view to improve the event, "a million of Reis (L142) and an honorary captaincy in the Portuguese army was offered to any one who would accompany them back—but none went." The journey had several times been performed by Arabs.

"I do not feel so much elated," continued Dr. Livingstone, "by the prospect of accomplishing this feat. I feel most thankful to God for preserving my life, where so many, who by superior intelligence would have done more good, have been cut off. But it does not look as if I had reached the goal. Viewed in relation to my calling, the end of the geographical feat is only the beginning of the enterprise. Apart from family longings, I have a most intense longing to hear how it has fared with our brave men at Sebastopol. My last scrap of intelligence was the Times, 17th November, 1855, after the terrible affair of the Light Cavalry. The news was not certain about a most determined attack to force the way to Balaclava, and Sebastopol expected every day to fall, and I have had to repress all my longings since, except in a poor prayer to prosper the cause of justice and right, and cover the heads of our soldiers in the day of battle." [A few days later he heard the news.] "We are all engaged in very much the same cause. Geographers, astronomers, and mechanicians, laboring to make men better acquainted with each other; sanitary reformers, prison reformers, promoters of ragged schools and Niger Expeditions; soldiers fighting for right against oppression, and sailors rescuing captives in deadly climes, as well as missionaries, are all aiding in hastening on a glorious consummation to all God's dealings with our race. In the hope that I may yet be honored to do some good to this poor long downtrodden Africa, the gentlemen over whom you have the honor to preside will, I believe, cordially join."

From Tette he went on to Senna. Again he is treated with extraordinary kindness by Lieutenant Miranda, and others, and again he is prostrated by an attack of fever. Provided with a comfortable boat, he at last reaches Quilimane on the 20th May, and is most kindly received by Colonel Nunes, "one of the best men in the country." Dr. Livingstone has told us in his book how his joy in reaching Quilimane was embittered on his learning that Captain Maclure, Lieutenant Woodruffe, and five men of H.M.S. "Dart," had been drowned off the bar in coming to Quilimane to pick him up, and how he felt as if he would rather have died for them[46].

[Footnote 46: Among Livingstone's papers we have found draft letter to the Admiralty, earnestly commending to their Lordship's favorable consideration a petition from the widow of one of the men. He had never seen her, he said, but he had been the unconscious cause of her husband's death, and all the joy he felt in crossing the continent was embittered when the news of the sad catastrophe reached him.]

News from across the Atlantic likewise informed him that his nephew and namesake, David Livingston, a fine lad eleven years of age, had been drowned in Canada. All the deeper was his gratitude for the goodness and mercy that had followed him and preserved him, as he says in his private Journal, from "many dangers not recorded in this book."

The retrospect in his Missionary Travels of the manner in which his life had been ordered up to this point, is so striking that our narrative would be deficient if it did not contain it:

"If the reader remembers the way in which I was led, while teaching the Bakwains, to commence exploration, he will, I think, recognize the hand of Providence. Anterior to that, when Mr. Moffat began to give the Bible—the Magna Charta of all the rights and privileges of modern civilization—to the Bechuanas, Sebituane went north, and spread the language into which he was translating the sacred oracles, in a new region larger than France. Sebituane, at the same time, rooted out hordes of bloody savages, among whom no white man could have gone without leaving his skull to ornament some village. He opened up the way for me—let us hope also for the Bible. Then, again, while I was laboring at Kolobeng, seeing only a small arc of the cycle of Providence, I could not understand it, and felt inclined to ascribe our successive and prolonged droughts to the wicked one. But when forced by these, and the Boers, to become explorer, and open a new country in the north rather than set my face southward, where missionaries are not needed, the gracious Spirit of God influenced the minds of the heathen to regard me with favor, the Divine hand is again perceived. Then I turned away westward, rather than in the opposite direction, chiefly from observing that some native Portuguese, though influenced by the hope of a reward from their Government to cross the continent, had been obliged to return from the east without accomplishing their object. Had I gone at first in the eastern direction, which the course of the great Leeambye seemed to invite, I should have come among the belligerents near Tette when the war was raging at its height, instead of, as it happened, when all was over. And again, when enabled to reach Loanda, the resolution to do my duty by going back to Linyanti probably saved me from the fate of my papers in the 'Forerunner.' And then, last of all, this new country is partially opened to the sympathies of Christendom, and I find that Sechele himself has, though unbidden by man, been teaching his own people. In fact, he has been doing all that I was prevented from doing, and I have been employed in exploring—a work I had no previous intention of performing. I think that I see the operation of the Unseen Hand in all this, and I humbly hope that it will still guide me to do good in my day and generation in Africa."