# The Personal Life of David Livingstone/CHAPTER XXII

CHAPTER XXII.
FROM UNYANYEMBE TO BANGWEOLO.
A.D. 1872-73.
Livingstone's long wait at Unyanyembe--His plan of operations--His fifty-ninth, birthday--Renewal of self-dedication--Letters to Agnes--to _New York Herald_--Hardness of the African battle--Waverings of judgment, whether Lualaba was the Nile or the Congo--Extracts from Journal--Gleams of humor--Natural history--His distress on hearing of the death of Sir Roderick Murchison--Thoughts on mission-work--Arrival of his escort--His happiness in his new men--He starts from Unyanyembe--Illness--Great amount of rain--Near Bangweolo--Incessant moisture--Flowers of the forest--Taking of observations regularly prosecuted--Dreadful state of the country from rain--Hunger--Furious attack of ants--Greatness of Livingstone's sufferings--Letters to Sir Thomas Maclear, Mr. Young, his brother, and Agnes--His sixtieth birthday--Great weakness in April--Sunday services and observations continued--Increasing illness--The end approaching--Last written words--Last day of his travels--He reaches Chitambo's village, in Ilala--Is found on his knees dead, on morning of 1st May--Courage and affection of his attendants--His body embalmed--Carried toward shore--Dangers and sufferings during the march--The party meet Lieutenant Cameron at Unyanyembe--Determine to go on--_Ruse_ at Kasekéra--Death of Dr. Dillon--The party reach Bagamoio, and the remains are placed on board a cruiser--The Search Expeditions from England--to East Coast under Cameron--to West Coast under Grandy--Explanation of Expeditions by Sir Henry Rawlinson--Livingstone's remains brought to England--Examined by Sir W. Fergusson and others--Buried in Westminster Abbey--Inscription on slab--Livingstone's wish for a forest grave--Lines from _Punch_--Tributes to his memory--Sir Bartle Frere--The _Lancet_--Lord Polwarth--Florence Nightingale.
When Stanley left Livingstone at Unyanyembe there was nothing for the latter but to wait there until the men should come to him who were to be sent up from Zanzibar Stanley left on the 14th March; Livingstone calculated that he would reach Zanzibar on the 1st May, that his men would be ready to start about the 22d May, and that they ought to arrive at Unyanyembe on the 10th or 15th July. In reality, Stanley did not reach Bagamoio till the 6th May, the men were sent off about the 25th, and they reached Unyanyembe about the 9th August. A month more than had been counted on had to be spent at Unyanyembe, and this delay was all the more trying because it brought the traveler nearer to the rainy season.
The intention of Dr. Livingstone, when the men should come, was to strike south by Ufipa, go round Tanganyika, then cross the Chambeze, and bear away along the southern shore of Bangweolo, straight west to the ancient fountains; from them in eight days to Katanga copper mines; from Katanga, in ten days, northeast to the great underground excavations, and back again to Katanga; from which N.N.W. twelve days to the head of Lake Lincoln. "There I hope devoutly," he writes to his daughter, "to thank the Lord of all, and turn my face along Lake Kamolondo, and over Lualaba, Tanganyika, Ujiji, and home."
His stay at Unyanyembe was a somewhat dreary one; there was little to do and little to interest him. Five days after Stanley left him occurred his fifty-ninth birthday. How his soul was exercised appears from the renewal of his self-dedication recorded in his Journal:
Frequent letters were written to his daughter from Unyanyembe, and they dwelt a good deal upon his difficulties, the treacherous way in which he had been treated, and the indescribable toil and suffering which had been the result. He said that in complaining to Dr. Kirk of the men whom he had employed, and the disgraceful use they had made of his (Kirk's) name, he never meant to charge him with being the author of their crimes, and it never occurred to him to say to Kirk, "I don't believe you to be the traitor they imply;" but Kirk took his complaint in high dudgeon as a covert attack upon himself, and did not act toward him as he ought to have done, considering what he owed him. His cordial and uniform testimony of Stanley was, "altogether he has behaved right nobly."
On the 1st May he finished a letter for the _New York Herald_, and asked God's blessing on it. It contained the memorable words afterward inscribed on the stone to his memory in Westminster Abbey: "All I can add in my loneliness is, may Heaven's rich blessing come down on every one--American, English, or Turk--who will help to heal the open sore of the world." It happened that the words were written precisely a year before his death.
Amid the universal darkness around him, the universal ignorance of God and of the grace and love of Jesus Christ, it was hard to believe that Africa should ever be won. He had to strengthen his faith amid this universal desolation. We read in his Journal:
His mind ruminates on the river system of the country and the probability of his being in error:
We now know that this was just what he had been doing. But we honor him all the more for the diffidence that would not adopt a conclusion while any part of the evidence was wanting, and that led him to encounter unexampled risks and hardships before he would affirm his favorite view as a fact. The moral lesson thus enforced is invaluable. We are almost thankful that Livingstone never got his doubts solved, it would have been such a disappointment; even had he known that in all time coming the great stream which had cast on him such a resistless spell would be known as the Livingstone River, and would perpetuate the memory of his life and his efforts for the good of Africa.
Occasionally his Journal gives a gleam, of humor: "18_th June_.--The Ptolemaic map defines people according to their food,--the Elephantophagi, the Struthiophagi, the Ichthiophagi, and the Anthropophagi, If we followed the same sort of classification, our definition would be by the drink, thus: the tribe of stout-guzzlers, the roaring potheen-fuddlers, the whisky-fishoid-drinkers, the vin-ordinaire bibbers, the lager-beer-swillers, and an outlying tribe of the brandy cocktail persuasion."
Natural History furnishes an unfailing interest: "19_th June_.--Whydahs, though full-fledged, still gladly take a feed from their dam, putting down the breast to the ground, and cocking up the bill and chirruping in the most engaging manner and winning way they know. She still gives them a little, but administers a friendly shove-off too. They all pick up feathers or grass, and hop from side to side of their mates, as if saying, 'Come, let us play at making little houses.' The wagtail has shaken her young quite off, and has a new nest. She warbles prettily, very much like a canary, and is extremely active in catching flies, but eats crumbs of bread-and-milk too. Sun-birds visit the pomegranate flowers, and eat insects therein too, as well as nectar. The young whydah birds crouch closely together at night for heat. They look like a woolly ball on a branch. By day they engage in pairing and coaxing each other. They come to the same twig every night. Like children, they try and lift heavy weights of feathers above their strength."
On 3d July a very sad entry occurs: "Received a note from Oswell, written in April last, containing the sad intelligence of Sir Roderick's departure from among us. Alas! alas! this is the only time in my life I ever felt inclined to use the word, and it bespeaks a sore heart; the best friend I ever had,--true, warm, and abiding,--he loved me more than I deserved; he looks down on me still." This entry indicates extraordinary depth of emotion. Sir Roderick exercised a kind of spell on Livingstone. Respect for him was one of the subordinate motives that induced him to undertake this journey. The hope of giving him satisfaction was one of the subordinate rewards to which he looked forward. His death was to Livingstone a kind of scientific widowhood, and must have deprived him of a great spring to exertion in this last wandering. On Sir Roderick's part the affection for him was very great. "Looking back," says his biographer, Professor Geikie, "upon his scientific career when not far from its close, Murchison found no part of it which brought more pleasing recollections than the support he had given to African explorers--Speke, Grant, notably Livingstone. 'I rejoice,' he said, 'in the steadfast tenacity with which I have upheld my confidence in the ultimate success of the last-named of these brave men. In fact, it was the confidence I placed in the undying vigor of my dear friend Livingstone which has sustained me in the hope that I might live to enjoy the supreme delight of welcoming him back to his own country.' But that consummation was not to be. He himself was gathered to his rest just six days before Stanley brought news and relief to the forlorn traveler on Lake Tanganyika. And Livingstone, while still in pursuit of his quest, and within ten months of his death, learned in the heart of Africa the tidings which he chronicled in his journal[76]."
[Footnote 76: _Life of Sir R. I. Murchison_, vol. ii. pp. 297-8.]
At other times he is ruminating on mission-work:
On the subject of Missions he says, at a later period, 8th November: "The spirit of missions is the spirit of our Master; the very genius of his religion. A diffusive philanthropy is Christianity itself. It requires perpetual propagation to attest its genuineness."
Thanks to Mr. Stanley and the American Consul, who made arrangements in a way that drew Livingstone's warmest gratitude, his escort arrived at last, consisting of fifty-seven men and boys. Several of these had gone with Mr. Stanley from Unyanyembe to Zanzibar; among the new men were some Nassick pupils who had been sent from Bombay to join Lieutenant Dawson. John and Jacob Wainwright were among these. To Jacob Wainwright, who was well-educated, we owe the earliest narrative that appeared of the last eight months of Livingstone's career. How happy he was with the men now sent to him appears from a letter to Mr. Stanley, written very near his death: "I am perpetually reminded that I owe a great deal to you for the men, you sent. With one exception, the party is working like a machine. I give my orders to Manwa Sera, and never have to repeat them." Would that he had had such a company before!
On the 25th August the party started. On the 8th October they reached Tanganyika, and rested, for they were tired, and several were sick, including Livingstone, who had been ill with his bowel disorder. The march went on slowly, and with few incidents. As the season advanced, rain, mist, swollen streams, and swampy ground became familiar. At the end of the year they were approaching the river Chambeze. Christmas had its thanksgiving: "I thank the good Lord for the good gift of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord."
In the second week of January they came near Bangweolo, and the reign of Neptune became incessant. We are told of cold rainy weather; sometimes a drizzle, sometimes an incessant pour; swollen streams and increasing sponges,--making progress a continual struggle. Yet, as he passes through a forest, he has an eye to its flowers, which are numerous and beautiful:
Observations were taken with unremitting diligence, except when, as was now common, nothing could be seen in the heavens. As they advanced, the weather became worse. It rained as if nothing but rain were ever known in the watershed. The path lay across flooded rivers, which were distinguished by their currents only from the flooded country along their banks. Dr. Livingstone had to be carried over the rivers on the back of one of his men, in the fashion so graphically depicted on the cover of the _Last Journals_. The stretches of sponge that came before and after the rivers, with their long grass and elephant-holes, were scarcely less trying. The inhabitants were, commonly, most unfriendly to the party; they refused them food, and, whenever they could, deceived them as to the way. Hunger bore down on the party with its bitter gnawing. Once a mass of furious ants attacked the Doctor by night, driving him in despair from hut to hut. Any frame but one of Iron must have succumbed to a single month of such a life, and before a week was out, any body of men, not held together by a power of discipline and a charm of affection unexampled in the history of difficult expeditions, would have been scattered to the four winds. Livingstone's own sufferings were beyond all previous example.
About this time he began an undated letter--his last--to his old friends Sir Thomas Maclear and Mr. Mann. It was never finished, and never despatched; but as one of the latest things he ever wrote, it is deeply interesting, as showing how clear, vigorous, and independent his mind was to the very last:
To another old friend, Mr. James Young, he wrote about the same time: "_Opere peracto ludemus_--the work being finished, we will play--you remember in your Latin Rudiments lang syne. It is true for you, and I rejoice to think it is now your portion, after working nobly, to play. May you have a long spell of it! I am differently situated; I shall never be able to play.... To me it seems to be said, 'If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that be ready to be slain; if thou sayest, Behold we knew it not, doth not He that pondereth the heart consider, and He that keepeth thy soul doth He not know, and shall He not give to every one according to his works?' I have been led, unwittingly, into the slaving field of the Banians and Arabs in Central Africa. I have seen the woes inflicted, and I must still work and do all I can to expose and mitigate the evils. Though hard work is still to be my lot, I look genially on others more favored in their lot. I would not be a member of the 'International,' for I love to see and think of others enjoying life.
"During a large part of this journey I had a strong presentiment that I should never live to finish it. It is weakened now, as I seem to see the end toward which I have been striving looming in the distance. This presentiment did not interfere with the performance of any duty; it only made me think a great deal more of the future state of being."
In his latest letters there is abundant evidence that the great desire of his heart was to expose the slave-trade, rouse public feeling, and get that great hindrance to all good for ever swept away.
"Spare no pains," he wrote to Dr. Kirk in 1871, "in attempting to persuade your superior to this end, and the Divine blessing will descend on you and yours."
To his daughter Agnes he wrote (15th August, 1872): "No one can estimate the amount of God-pleasing good that will be done, if, by Divine favor, this awful slave-trade, into the midst of which I have come, be abolished. This will be something to have lived for, and the conviction has grown in my mind that it was _for this end_ I have been detained so long."
To his brother in Canada he says (December, 1872): "If the good Lord permits me to put a stop to the enormous evils of the inland slave-trade, I shall not grudge my hunger and toils. I shall bless his name with all my heart. The Nile sources are valuable to me only as a means of enabling me to open my mouth with power among men. It is this power I hope to apply to remedy an enormous evil, and join my poor little helping hand in the enormous revolution that in his all-embracing Providence He has been carrying on for ages, and is now actually helping forward. Men may think I covet fame, but I make it a rule never to read aught written in my praise."
Livingstone's last birthday (19th March, 1873) found him in much the same circumstances as before. "Thanks to the Almighty Preserver of men for sparing me thus far on the journey of life. Can I hope for ultimate success? So many obstacles have arisen. Let not Satan prevail over me, O my good Lord Jesus." A few days after (24th March): "Nothing earthly will make me give up my work in despair. I encourage myself in the Lord my God, and go forward."
In the beginning of April, the bleeding from the bowels, from which he had been suffering, became more copious, and his weakness was pitiful; still he longed for strength to finish his work. Even yet the old passion for natural history was strong; the aqueous plants that abounded everywhere, the caterpillars that after eating the plants ate one another, and were such clumsy swimmers; the fish with the hook-shaped lower jaw that enabled them to feed as they skimmed past the plants; the morning summons of the cocks and turtle-doves; the weird scream of the fish eagle--all engaged his interest. Observations continued to be taken, and the Sunday services were always held.
But on the 21st April a change occurred. In a shaky hand he wrote: "Tried to ride, but was forced to lie down, and they carried me back to vil. exhausted." A kitanda or palanquin had to be made for carrying him. It was sorry work, for his pains were excruciating and his weakness excessive. On the 27th April[77] he was apparently at the lowest ebb, and wrote in his Journal the last words he ever penned--"Knocked up quite, and remain == recover sent to buy milch goats. We are on the banks of R. Molilamo."
[Footnote 77: This was the eleventh anniversary of his wife's death.]
The word "recover" seems to show that he had no presentiment of death, but cherished the hope of recovery; and Mr. Waller has pointed out, from his own sad observation of numerous cases in connection with the Universities Mission, that malarial poisoning is usually unattended with the apprehension of death, and that in none of these instances, any more than in the case of Livingstone, were there any such messages, or instructions, or expressions of trust and hope as are usual on the part of Christian men when death is near.
The 29th of April was the last day of his travels. In the morning he directed Susi to take down the side of the hut that the kitanda might be brought along, as the door would not admit it, and he was quite unable to walk to it. Then came the crossing of a river; then progress through swamps and plashes; and when they got to anything like a dry plain, he would ever and anon beg of them to lay him down. At last they got him to Chitambo's village, in Ilala, where they had to put him under the eaves of a house during a drizzling rain, until the hut they were building should be got ready.
Then they laid him on a rough bed in the hut, where he spent the night. Next day he lay undisturbed. He asked a few wandering questions about the country--especially about the Luapula. His people knew that the end could not be far off. Nothing occurred to attract notice during the early part of the night, but at four in the morning, the boy who lay at his door called in alarm for Susi, fearing that their master was dead. By the candle still burning they saw him, not in bed, but kneeling at the bedside with his head buried in his hands upon the pillow. The sad yet not unexpected truth soon became evident: he had passed away on the furthest of all his journeys, and without a single attendant. But he had died in the act of prayer--prayer offered in that reverential attitude about which he was always so particular; commending his own spirit, with all his dear ones, as was his wont, into the hands of his Saviour; and commending AFRICA--his own dear Africa--with all her woes and sins and wrongs, to the Avenger of the oppressed and the Redeemer of the lost.
If anything were needed to commend the African race, and prove them possessed of qualities fitted to make a noble nation, the courage, affection, and persevering loyalty shown by his attendants after his death might well have this effect. When the sad event became known among the men, it was cordially resolved that every effort should be made to carry their master's remains to Zanzibar. Such an undertaking was extremely perilous, for there were not merely the ordinary risks of travel to a small body of natives, but there was also the superstitious horror everywhere prevalent connected with the dead. Chitambo must be kept in ignorance of what had happened, otherwise a ruinous fine would be sure to be inflicted on them. The secret, however, oozed out, but happily the chief was reasonable. Susi and Chuma, the old attendants of Livingstone, became now the leaders of the company, and they fulfilled their task right nobly. The interesting narrative of Mr. Waller at the end of the _Last Journals_ tells us how calmly yet efficiently they set to work. Arrangements were made for drying and embalming the body, after removing and burying the heart and other viscera. For fourteen days the body was dried in the sun. After being wrapped in calico, and the legs bent inward at the knees, it was enclosed in a large piece of bark from a Myonga-tree in the form of a cylinder; over this a piece of sail-cloth was sewed; and the package was lashed to a pole, so as to be carried by two men. Jacob Wainwright carved an inscription on the Mvula tree under which the body had rested, and where the heart was buried, and Chitambo was charged to keep the grass cleared away, and to protect two posts and a cross-piece which they erected to mark the spot.
They then set out on their homeward march. It was a serious journey, for the terrible exposure had affected the health of most of them, and many had to lie down through sickness. The tribes through which they passed were generally friendly, but not always. At one place they had a regular fight. On the whole, their progress was wonderfully quiet and regular. Everywhere they found that the news of the Doctor's death had got before them. At one place they heard that a party of Englishmen, headed by Dr. Livingstone's son, on their way to relieve his father, had been seen at Bagamoio some months previously. As they approached Unyanyembe, they learned that the party was there, but when Chuma ran on before, he was disappointed to find that Oswell Livingstone was not among them. Lieutenant Cameron, Dr. Dillon, and Lieutenant Murphy were there, and heard the tidings of the men with deep emotion. Cameron wished them to bury the remains where they were, and not run the risk of conveying them through the Ugogo country; but the men were inflexible, determined to carry out their first intention. This was not the only interference with these devoted and faithful men. Considering how carefully they had gathered all Livingstone's property, and how conscientiously, at the risk of their lives, they were carrying it to the coast, to transfer it to the British Consul there, it was not warrantable in the new-comers to take the boxes from them, examine their contents, and carry off a part of them. Nor do we think Lieutenant Cameron was entitled to take away the instruments with which all Livingstone's observations had been made for a series of seven years, and use them, though only temporarily, for the purpose of his Expedition, inasmuch as he thereby made it impossible so to reduce Livingstone's observations as that correct results should be obtained from them. Sir Henry Rawlinson seems not to have adverted to this result of Mr. Cameron's act, in his reference to the matter from the chair of the Geographical Society.
On leaving Unyanyembe the party were joined by Lieutenant Murphy, not much to the promotion of unity of action or harmonious feeling. At Kasekéra a spirit of opposition was shown by the inhabitants, and a _ruse_ was resorted to so as to throw them off their guard. It was resolved to pack the remains in such form that when wrapped in calico they should appear like an ordinary bale of merchandise. A fagot of mapira stalks, cut into lengths of about six feet, was then swathed in cloth, to imitate a dead body about to be buried. This was sent back along the way to Unyanyembe, as if the party had changed their minds and resolved to bury the remains there. The bearers, at nightfall, began to throw away the mapira rods, and then the wrappings, and when they had thus disposed of them they returned to their companions. The villagers of Kasekéra had now no suspicion, and allowed the party to pass unmolested. But though one tragedy was averted, another was enacted at Kasekéra--the dreadful suicide of Dr. Dillon while suffering from dysentery and fever.
The cortége now passed on without further incident, and arrived at Bagamoio in February, 1874. Soon after they reached Bagamoio a cruiser arrived from Zanzibar, with the acting Consul, Captain Prideaux, on board, and the remains were conveyed to that island previous to their being sent to England.
The men that for nine long months remained steadfast to their purpose to pay honor to the remains of their master, in the midst of innumerable trials and dangers and without hope of reward, have established a strong claim to the gratitude and admiration of the world. Would that the debt were promptly repaid in efforts to free Africa from her oppressors, and send throughout all her borders the Divine proclamation, "Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, good-will to men."
In regard to the Search party to which reference has been made, it may be stated that when Livingstone's purpose to go back to the barbarous regions where he had suffered so much before became known in England it excited a feeling of profound concern. Two Expeditions were arranged. That to the East Coast, organized by the Royal Geographical Society, was placed under Lieutenant Cameron, and included in its ranks Robert Moffat, a grandson of Dr. Moffat's, who (as has been already stated) fell early a sacrifice to fever. The members of the Expedition suffered much from sickness; it was broken up at Unyanyembe, when the party bearing the remains of Dr. Livingstone was met. The other party, under command of Lieutenant Grandy, was to go to the West Coast, start from Loanda, strike the Congo, and move on to Lake Lincoln. This Expedition was fitted out solely at the cost of Mr. Young. He was deeply concerned for the safety of his friend, knowing how he was hated by the slave-traders whose iniquities he had exposed, and thinking it likely that if he once reached Lake Lincoln he would make for the west coast along the Congo. The purpose of these Expeditions is carefully explained in a letter addressed to Dr. Livingstone by Sir Henry Rawlinson, then President of the Royal Geographical Society:
The remains were brought to Aden on board the "Calcutta," and thereafter transferred to the P. and O. steamer "Malwa," which arrived at Southampton on the 15th of April. Mr. Thomas Livingstone, eldest surviving son of the Doctor, being then in Egypt on account of his health[78], had gone on board at Alexandria. The body was conveyed to London by special train and deposited in the rooms of the Geographical Society in Saville Row.
[Footnote 78: Thomas never regained robust health. He died at Alexandria, 15th March, 1876.]
In the course of the evening the remains were examined by Sir William Fergusson and several other medical gentleman, including Dr. Loudon, of Hamilton, whose professional skill and great kindness to his family had gained for him a high place in the esteem and love of Livingstone. To many persons it had appeared so incredible that the remains should have been brought from the heart of Africa to London, that some conclusive identification of the body seemed to be necessary to set all doubt at rest. The state of the arm, the one that had been broken by the lion, supplied the crucial evidence. "Exactly in the region of the attachment of the deltoid to the humerus" (said Sir William Fergusson in a contribution to the _Lancet_, April 18, 1874), "there were the indications of an oblique fracture. On moving the arm there were the indications of an ununited fracture. A closer identification and dissection displayed the false joint that had so long ago been so well recognized by those who had examined the arm in former days.... The first glance set my mind at rest, and that, with the further examination, made me as positive as to the identification of these remains as that there has been among us in modern times one of the greatest men of the human race--David Livingstone."
On Saturday, April 18, 1874, the remains of the great traveler were committed to their resting-place near the centre of the nave of Westminster Abbey. Many old friends of Livingstone came to be present, and many of his admirers, who could not but avail themselves of the opportunity to pay a last tribute of respect to his memory. The Abbey was crowded in every part from which the spectacle might be seen. The pall-bearers were Mr. H.M. Stanley, Jacob Wainwright, Sir T. Steele, Dr. Kirk, Mr. W.F. Webb, Rev. Horace Waller, Mr. Oswell, and Mr. E.D. Young. Two of these, Mr. Waller and Dr. Kirk, along with Dr. Stewart, who was also present, had assisted twelve years before at the funeral of Mrs. Livingstone at Shupanga. Dr. Moffat, too, was there, full of sorrowful admiration. Amid a service which was emphatically impressive throughout, the simple words of the hymn, sung to the tune of Tallis, were peculiarly touching:
The black slab that now marks the resting-place of Livingstone bears this inscription:
Along the right border of the stone are the words:
And along the left border:
On the 25th June, 1868, not far from the northern border of that lake Bangweolo on whose southern shore he passed away, Dr. Livingstone came on a grave in a forest. He says of it:
"It was a little rounded mound, as if the occupant sat in it in the usual native way; it was strewed over with flour, and a number of the large blue beads put on it; a little path showed that it had visitors. This is the sort of grave I should prefer: to be in the still, still forest, and no hand ever disturb my bones. The graves at home always seemed to me to be miserable, especially those in the cold, damp clay, and without elbow-room; but I have nothing to do but wait till He who is over all decides where I have to lay me down and die. Poor Mary lies on Shupanga brae, 'and beeks fornent the sun.'"
"He who is over all" decreed that while his heart should lie in a leafy forest, in such a spot as he loved, his bones should repose in a great Christian temple, where many, day by day, as they read his name, would recall his noble Christian life, and feel how like he was to Him of whom it is written: "The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings to the meek: He hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn; to appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord; that He might be glorified."
Eulogiums on the dead are often attempts, sometimes sufficiently clumsy, to conceal one-half of the truth and fill the eye with the other. In the case of Livingstone there is really nothing to conceal. In tracing his life in these pages we have found no need for the brilliant colors of the rhetorician, the ingenuity of the partisan, or the enthusiasm of the hero-worshiper. We have felt, from first to last, that a plain, honest statement of the truth regarding him would be a higher panegyric than any ideal picture that could be drawn. The best tributes paid to his memory by distinguished countrymen were the most literal--we might almost say the most prosaic. It is but a few leaves we can reproduce of the many wreaths that were laid on his tomb.
Sir Bartle Frere, as President of the Royal Geographical Society, after a copious notice of his life, summed it up in these words: "As a whole, the work of his life will surely be held up in ages to come as one of singular nobleness of design, and of unflinching energy and self-sacrifice in execution. It will be long ere any one man will be able to open so large an extent of unknown land to civilized mankind. Yet longer, perhaps, ere we find a brighter example of a life of such continued and useful self-devotion to a noble cause."
In a recent letter to Dr. Livingstone's eldest daughter, Sir Bartle Frere (after saying that he was first introduced to Dr. Livingstone by Mr. Phillip, the painter, as "one of the noblest men he had ever met," and rehearsing the history of his early acquaintance) remarks:
"I could hardly venture to describe my estimate of his character as a Christian further than by saying that I never met a man who fulfilled more completely my idea of a perfect Christian gentleman,--actuated in what he thought and said and did by the highest and most chivalrous spirit, modeled on the precepts of his great Master and Exemplar.
"As a man of science, I am less competent to judge, for my knowledge of his work is to a great extent second-hand; but derived, as it is, from observers like Sir Thomas Maclear, and geographers like Arrowsmith, I believe him to be quite unequaled as a scientific traveler, in the care and accuracy with which he observed. In other branches of science I had more opportunities of satisfying myself, and of knowing how keen and accurate was his observation, and how extensive his knowledge of everything connected with natural science; but every page of his journals, to the last week of his life, testified to his wonderful natural powers and accurate observation. Thirdly, as a missionary and explorer I have always put him in the very first rank. He seemed to me to possess in the most wonderful degree that union of opposite qualities which were required for such a work as opening out heathen Africa to Christianity and civilization. No man had a keener sympathy with even the most barbarous and unenlightened; none had a more ardent desire to benefit and improve the most abject. In his aims, no man attempted, on a grander or more thorough scale, to benefit and improve those of his race who most needed improvement and light. In the execution of what he undertook, I never met his equal for energy and sagacity, and I feel sure that future ages will place him among the very first of those missionaries, who, following the apostles, have continued to carry the light of the gospel to the darkest regions of the world, throughout the last 1800 years. As regards the value of the work he accomplished, it might be premature to speak,--not that I think it possible I can over-estimate it, but because I feel sure that every year will add fresh evidence to show how well-considered were the plans he took in hand, and how vast have been the results of the movements he set in motion."
The generous and hearty appreciation of Livingstone by the medical profession was well expressed in the words of the _Lancet_: "Few men have disappeared from our ranks more universally deplored, as few have served in them with a higher purpose, or shed upon them the lustre of a purer devotion."
Lord Polwarth, in acknowledging a letter from Dr. Livingstone's daughter, thanking him for some words on her father, wrote thus: "I have long cherished the memory of his example, and feel that the truest beauty was his essentially Christian spirit. Many admire in him the great explorer and the noble-hearted philanthropist; but I like to think of him, not only thus, but as a man who was a servant of God, loved his Word intensely, and while he spoke to men of God, spoke more to God of men,
"His memory will never perish, though the first freshness, and the impulse it gives just now, may fade; but his prayers will be had in everlasting remembrance, and unspeakable blessings will yet flow to that vast continent he opened up at the expense of his life. God called and qualified him for a noble work, which, by grace, he nobly fulfilled, and we can love the honored servant, and adore the gracious Master."
Lastly, we give the beautiful wreath of Florence Nightingale, also in the form of a letter to Dr. Livingstone's daughter: