LONG and perilous days those were which were passed by Stanley
and his caravan. Yet they illustrate one of the most important
lessons of life, which is that no one is to make more than a day's
journey at a time and that the most practical method of overcoming
difficulties is to take them and master them one by one. If Stanley had
been less resolute, if he had been easily discouraged, if he were one of
the men who make a sudden start and then as suddenly halt, if he had
not been a kind of Hercules in body and in soul, if he had possessed less
of the push and enterprise which always go with a great character, the
world would never have rung with acclaim at his achievements.
It was a new experience to him, that of traversing the wilds of the
Dark Continent, quelling mutiny among his men, meeting unfriendly
chiefs who were given to rapacious extortion, and plunging on through
jungles, thickets and pathless tracts,- untrodden and unmarked, yet he
had gone with the definite purpose of finding Livingstone, and, as we
read the story of his successful search, we are quite ready to believe that
he would sooner have laid down his life than failed in his undertaking.
Livingstone was a man nearly sixty years old; Stanley had on his side
all the advantages of youth. He had been toughened by early adversity,
by travelling in various climes, exposure to all winds and all weathers,
and it may be doubted whether any other man in our time has been so
well equipped with courage, latent resources, command of men, sturdy
heroism and self-sacrifice as he was for the almost miraculous task con-
fided to him by his wealthy and enterprising patron, Mr. Bennett.
In reading of his adventures and successes, we are quite apt to lose
sight of certain great results which must inevitably follow from his jour-
neys in Africa. We see only the lost explorer, Livingstone, admired
and beloved by half the world, his terrible sufferings and the slow wast-
ing of his life. But this man, this hero to whom so many eyes are
turned, this great explorer, who, like Stanley, was much more than a
mere adventurer, is only one figure in the vivid scene which passes before
our eyes. It will not do to limit our thought to either of these men or
to both of them.
Two Famous Travellers.
Livingstone had forsaken his early home and his fatherland ; all the
hardship that comes to one by being in an uncivilized country fell to his
lot ; the wife who had shared his fortunes, and quite as often, his misfor-
tunes, had been rudely torn from his side; the vast benefit to savage
races which she as well as her illustrious husband was capable of impart-
ing was suddenly lost. The beautiful and touching reference of Living-
stone to her grave, which has been related, is something that must move
the heart of every reader.
Stanley's journeys were free from some of the incidents which are so
thrilling in those of the one he was trying to find, yet others fell to his
lot with which Livingstone was unacquainted. And so this man stands^
out in strong proportions, with a most remarkable individuality of his
own ; a man raised up for a certain work, peculiar in his make-up, en-
dowed for adventure and exploit, and ages hence history will turn to him
and write some of its most eloquent pages.
Still it is true that the great interest of African exploration does not
gather around either of these men, or both of them, except as they are
the instruments for penetrating a continent hitherto dark and unknown ;
for what they achieved in bringing the dark races of Africa under the
full light of modern civilization and Christianity is, after all, the finest
thing to be noted. Whoever studies history knows very well that every
man is building higher than he thinks, accomplishing more than he
imagines, casting off results that are left behind him as he crowds on,
while his unconscious influence and the incidental effects of his life and
undertakings are such as we have no scales for weighing.
We closed the last chapter by leaving Stanley within a short distance
of Ujiji, where he had every reason to believe he would find Livingstone.
Here one part of our narrative of African exploration culminates, and
unwonted interest attends it. After having been lost half a dozen years,
Livingstone is to be met by a brother white man, who will assure him
that the world is interested in his welfare. It will be to him a surprise,
and a piece of intelligence as gratifying as it is unexpected. It will con-
vince him that his heroic sacrifices are not forgotten, and will be treas-
ured and commemorated after he is gone.
In his thrilling account of the meeting with Livingstone, Stanley
says : We push on rapidly, lest the news of our coming might reach the
people of Ujiji before we come in sight, and are ready for them. We
halt at a little brook, then ascend the long slope of a naked ridge, the
very last of the myriads we have crossed. This alone prevents us from
seeing the lake in all its vastness. We arrive at the summit, travel
across and arrive at its western rim, and — pause, reader — the port of
Ujiji is below us, embowered in the palms, only five hundred yards
At this grand moment we do not think of the hundreds of miles we
have marched, or of the hundreds of hills that we have ascended and de-
scended, or of the many forests we have traversed, or of the jungles and
thickets that annoyed us, or of the fervid salt plains that blistered our
feet, or of the hot sun that scorched us, nor of the dangers and difficul-
ties, now happily surmounted !
One, Two, Three,— Fire !
At last the sublime hour had arrived ; — our dreams, our hopes, and
•anticipations are now about to be realized ! Our hearts and our feehngs
are with our eyes, as we peer into the palms and try to make out in
which hut or house lives the " white man with the gray beard " we had
already heard about. .
" Unfurl the flags, and load your guns ! "
" We will, master, we will, master ! " respond the men eagerly.
" One, two, three, — fire ! "
A volley from nearly fifty guns roars like a salute from a battery of
artillery; we shall note its effect presently on the peaceful-looking village
" Now, kirangozi, hold the white man's flag up high, and let the Zan-
zibar flag bring up the rear. And you men keep close together, and
keep firing until we halt in the market-place, or before the white man's
house. You have said to me often that you could smell the fish of the
Tanganyika — I can smell the fish of the Tanganyika now. There are fish,
and beer, and a long rest waiting for you. March ! "
Before we had gone a hundred yards our repeated volleys had the
effect desired. ^ We had awakened Ujiji to the knowledge that a caravan
was coming, and the people were witnessed rushing up in. hundreds to
meet us. The mere sight of the flags informed every one immediately
that we were a caravan, but the American flag borne aloft by gigantic
Asmani, whose face was one vast smile on this day, rather staggered
them at first. However, many of the people who now approached us,
remembered the flag. They had seen it float above the American Con-
sulate, and from the mast-head of many a ship in the harbor of Zanzibar,
and they were soon heard welcoming the beautiful flag with cries of
" Bindera Kisungu ! " — a white man's flag ! " Bindera Merikani ! " — the
American flag !
Then we were surrounded by them and were almost deafened with the
shouts of " Yambo, yambo, bana ! Yambo, bana ! Yambo, bana ! " To
each and all of my men the welcome was given.
We were now about three hundred yards from the village of Ujiji, and
the crowds are dense about me. Suddenly I hear a voice on my right say,
" Good morning, sir! "
Startled at hearing this greeting in the midst of such a crowd of black
people, I turn sharply around in search of the man, and see him at my
side, with the blackest of faces, but animated and joyous — a man dressed
in a long white shirt, with a turban of American sheeting around his
woolly head, and I ask:
"Who the mischief are you?"
"I am Susi, the servant of Dr. Livingstone," said he, smihng, and
'showing a gleaming row of teeth.
"What! Is Dr. Livingstone here?"
"In this village?"
"Are you sure?"
"Sure, sure, sir. Why I leave him just now."
"Good morning sir," said another voice.
"Hallo," said I, "is this another one?"
"Well, what is your name?"
"My name is Chumah, sir."
"What! are you Chumah, the friend of Wekotani?"
"And is the doctor well?"
" Not very well, sir."
" Where has he been so long?"
" In Manyuema."
" Now, you Susi, run and tell the doctor I am coming."
" Yes, sir," and off he darted like a madman.
But by this time we were within two hundred yards of the village, and
the multitude was getting denser, and almost preventing our march.
Flags and streamers were out; Arabs and Wangwana were pushing
their way through the natives in order to greet us, for according to their
account, we belonged to them. But the great wonder of all was, " How
did you come from Unyanyembe ? "
Soon Susi came running back, and asked me my name ; he had told
the doctor I was coming, but the doctor was too surprised to believe
him, and when the doctor asked him my name, Susi was rather stag-
But, during Susi's absence, the news had been conveyed to the doctor
that it was surely a white man that was coming, whose guns were firing,
and whose flag could be seen; and the great Arab magnates of Ujiji —
Mohammed bin SaH, Sayd bin Majid, Abidbin Suliman, Mohammed bin
Gharib, and others — had gathered together before the doctor's- house, and
the doctor had come out from his veranda to discuss the matter and
await my arrival.
In the meantime, the head of the Expedition had halted, and the kir-
angozi was out of the ranks, holding his flag aloft, and Selim said to me,
"I see the doctor, sir. Oh, what an old man! He has got a white
beard." And I — what would I not have given for a bit of friendly wil-
derness, where, unseen, I might vent my joy in some mad freak, such as
idiotically biting my hand, turning a somersault, or slashing at trees, in
order to allay those exciting feelings that were well-nigh uncontrollable.
My heart beats fast, but I must not let my face betray my emotions, lest
it shall detract from the dignity of a white man appearing under such ex-
The Travellers Meet.
So I did that which 1 thought was most dignified. I pushed back the
crowds, and, passing from the rear, walked down a living avenue of peo-
ple, until I came in front of the semicircle of Arabs, before which stood
the " white man with a grey beard."
As I advanced slowly towards him I noticed he was pale, that he looked
wearied and wan, that he had grey whiskers and moustache, that he wore
a bluish cloth cap with a faded gold band on a red ground round it, and
that he had on a red-sleeved waistcoat, and a pair of grey tweed trousers.
I would have run to him, only I was a coward in the presence of such a
mob — would have embraced him, but that I did not know how he would
receive it ; so I did what moral cowardice and false pride suggested was
the best thing — walked deliberately to him, took ofl" my hat, and said :
" Dr. Livingstone, I presume ? "
" Yes," said he, with a kind, cordial smile, lifting his cap slightly.
I replaced my hat on my head, and he replaced his cap, and we both
grasped hands. I then said aloud :
" I thank God, Doctor, I have been permitted to see you."
He answered, " I feel thankful that I am here to welcome you.'*
Wliat News After Six Years.
I turned to the Arabs, took off my hat to them in response to the
saluting chorus of " Yambos " I received, and the doctor introduced them
to me by name. Then, oblivious of the crowds, oblivious of the men
who shared with me my dangers, we — Livingstone and I — turned our
facts towards his house. He pointed to the veranda, or rather, mud plat-
form, under the broad overhanging eaves ; he pointed to his own particu-
lar seat, which I saw his age and- experience in Africa had suggested,
namely, a straw mat, with a goatskin over it, and another skin nailed
against the wall to protect his back from contact with the cold mud. I
protested against taking this seat, which so much more befitted him
than me, but the doctor would not yield: I must take it.
We were seated — the doctor and I — with our backs to the wall. ? The
Arabs took seats on our left. More than a thousand natives were in our
front, filling the whole square densely, indulging their curiosity, and dis-
cussing the fact of two white men meeting at Ujiji — one just come from
Manyuema, in the west, the other from Unyanyembe, in the east.
Conversation began. What about? I declare I have forgotten. Oh!
we mutually asked questions of one another, such as:
"How did you come here?" and "Where have you been all this long
time? — the world has believed you to be dead." Yes, that was the way
it began; but whatever the doctor informed me, and that which I com-
municated to him, I cannot correctly report, for I found myself gazing at
him, conning the wonderful figure and face of the man at whose side I
now sat in Central Africa.
Marvellous History of Deeds.
Every hair of his head and beard, every wrinkle of his face, the wanness
of his features, and the slightly wearied look he wore, were all imparting
intelligence to me — the knowledge I craved for so much ever since I
heard the word., " Take what you want, but find Livingstone." What I
saw was deeply interesting intelligence to me, and unvarnished truth. I
was listening and reading at the same time. What did these dumb wit-
nesses relate to me?
Oh, reader, had you been at my side on this day in Ujiji, how elo-
quently could be told the nature of this man's work! Had you been
there but to see and hear! His lips gave me the details; lips that never
lie. I cannot repeat what he said; I was too much engrossed to take my
note-book out, and begin to stenograph his story. He had so much to
say that he began at the end, seemingly oblivious of the fact that five or
six years had to be accounted fo"-. But his account was oozing out; it
was growing fast into grand proportions — into a most marvellous history
The Arabs rose up, with a dehcacy I approved, as if they intuitively
knew that we ought to be left to ourselves.
I sent Bombay with them to give them the news they also wanted so
much to know about the affairs at Unyanyembe. Sayd bin Majid was
the father of the gallant young man whom I saw at Masangi, and who
fought with me at Zimbizo, and who soon afterwards was killed by Mi-
rambo's Ruga-Ruga in the forest of Wilyankuru ; and, knowing that I
had been there, he earnestly desired to hear the tale of the fight ; but
they had all friends at Unyanyembe, and it was but natural that they
should be anxious to hear of what concerned them.
Letters A Year Old.
After giving orders to Bombay and Asmani for the provisioning of the
men of the Expedition, I called " Kaif-Halek," or " How-do-ye-do," and
introduced him to Dr. Livingstone as one of the soldiers in charge of
certain goods left at Unyanyembe, whom I had compelled to accompany
me to Ujiji, that he might deliver in person to his master the letter-bag
with which he had been intrusted. This was that famous letter-bag
marked "Nov. 1st, 1870," which was now delivered into the doctor's
hands 365 days after it left Zanzibar! How long, I wonder, had it re-
mained at Unyanyembe had I not been despatched into Central Africa in
search of the great traveller ?
The doctor kept the letter-bag on his knee, then, presently, opened it,
looked at the letters contained there, and read one or two of his chil-
dren's letters, his face in the meanwhile lighting up.
He asked me to tell him the news. " No, doctor," said I, " read your
letters first, which I am sure you must be impatient to read."
"Ah," said he," I have waited years for letters, and I have been taught
patience. I can surely afford to wait a few hours longer. No, tell me
the general news : how is the world getting along ?"
" You probably know much already. Do you know that the Suez
Canal is a fact — is opened, and a regular trade carried on between Europe
and India through it ?"
" I did not hear about the opening of it. Well, that is grand news! What else ?"
Shortly I found myself enacting the part of an annual periodical to
him. There was no need of exaggeration — or any penny-a-line news, or
of any sensationalism. The world had witnessed and experienced much
the last few years. The Pacific Railroad had been completed ; Grant
had been elected President of the United States; Egypt had been flooded
with savans ; the Cretan rebellion had terminated ; a Spanish revolution
iiad driven Isabella from the throne of Spain, and a Regent had been ap-
pointed ; General Prim was assassinated ; a Castelar had electrified
Europe with his advanced ideas upon the liberty of worship; Prussia
had humbled Denmark, and annexed Schleswig-Holstein,and her armies
were now around Paris; the "man of Destiny" was a prisoner at
Whelmshohe ; the Queen of Fashion and the Empress of the French was
a fugitive; and the child born in the purple had lost forever the Imperial
crown intended for his head ;' the Napoleon dynasty was extinguished by
the Prussians, Bismarck and Von Moltke ; and France, the proud em-
pire, was humbled to the dust.
What could a man have exaggerated of these facts ? What a budget
of news it was to one who had emerged from the depths of the primeval
forests of Manyuema ! The reflection of the dazzling light of civiliza-
tion was cast on him while Livingstone was thus listening in wonder to
one of the most exciting pages of history ever repeated. How the puny
deeds of barbarism paled before these! Who could tell under what new
phases of uneasy life Europe was laboring even then, while we, two of
her lonely children, rehearsed the tale of her late woes and glories ?
More worthily, perhaps, had the tongue of a lyric Demodocus recounted
them; but, in the absence of the poet, the newspaper correspondent per-
formed his part as well and truthfully as he could.
What was thought by Livingstone himself about the arrival of Stanley,
which had probably prolonged his sinking life, is fully set forth in a
letter to Mr. Bennett, who had sent Stanley into the dark wilderness of
Africa. This letter deserves to be put on record, and especially here in
the history of those marvellous achievements in Africa, which have awak-
ened the interest of the civilized world.
Ujiji, ON Tanganyika, East Africa,
James Gordon Bennett, Jr., Esq.
My dear Sir, — It is in general somewhat difficult to write to one we
have never seen — it feels so much like addressing an abstract idea — but
the presence of your representative, Mr. H. M. Stanley, in this distant
region takes away the strangeness I should otherw i.^e have felt, and in
writing to thank you for the extreme kindness that prompted you to
send him, I feel quite at home.
If I explain the forlorn condition in which he found me you will easily
perceive that I have good reason to use very strong expressions of grat-
itude. I came to Ujiji off a tramp of between four hundred and five
hundred miles, beneath a blazing vertical sun, having been baffled, wor-
ried, defeated and forced to return, when almost in sight of the end of
the geographical part of my mission, by a number of half-caste Moslem
slaves sent to me from Zanzibar, instead of men. The sore heart made
still sorer by the woeful sights I had seen of man's inhumanity to man
racked and told on the bodily frame, and depressed it beyond measure.
I thought that I was dying on my feet. It is not too much to say that
almost every step of the weary sultry way was in pain, and I reached
Ujiji a mere ruckle of bones.
There I found that some five hundred pounds' sterling worth of goods
which I had ordered from Zanzibar had unaccountably been entrusted
to a drunken half-caste Moslem tailor, who, after squandering them for
sixteen months on the way to Ujiji, finished up by selling off all that re-
mained for slaves and ivory for himself He had " divined " on the Koran
and found that I was dead. He had also written to the Governor of
Unyanyembe that he had sent slaves after me to Manyuema, who returned
and reported my decease, and begged permission to sell off the few goods
that his drunken appetite had spared.
He, however, knew perfectly well, from men who had seen me, that I
was alive, and waiting for the goods and men ; but as for morality, he is
evidently an idiot, and there being no law here except that of the dagger
or musket, I had to sit down in great weakness, destitute of everything
save a few barter cloths and beads, which I had taken the precaution to
leave here in case of extreme need.
The near prospect of beggary among Ujijians made me miserable.
I could not despair, because I laughed so much at a friend who, on
reaching the mouth of the Zambezi, said that he was tempted to despair
on breaking the photoc^raph of his wife. We could have no success after
that. Afterward the idea of despair had to me such a strong smack of
the ludicrous that it was out of the question.
Well, when I had got to about the lowest verge, vague rumors of an
English visitor reached me. I thought of myself as the man who went
down from Jerusalem to Jericho ; but neither priest, Levite, nor Samari-
tan could possibly pass my way. Yet the good Samaritan was close at
hand, and one of my people rushed up at the top of his speed, and, in
great excitement, gasped out, "An Englishman coming! I see him !"and
off he darted to meet him.
An American flag, the first ever seen in these parts, at the head of a
caravan, told me the nationahty of the stranger.
I am as cold and non-demonstrative as we islanders are usually reputed
to be ; but your kindness made my frame thrill. It was, indeed, over-
whelming, and I said in my soul, " Let the richest blessings descend from
the Highest on you and yours !"
The news Mr. Stanley had to tell was thrilling. The mighty polit-
ical changes on the Continent ; the success of the Atlantic cables ; the
election of General Grant, and many other topics riveted my attention for
days together, and had an immediate and beneficial effect on my health.
I had been without news from home for years save what I could glean
from a few " Saturday Reviews '' and " Punch " of 1868. The appetite
revived, and in a week I began to feel strong again.
Mr. Stanley brought a most kind and encouraging despatch from Lord
Clarendon (whose loss I sincerely deplore), the first I have received from
the Foreign Office since 1866, and information that the British Govern-
ment had kindly sent a thousand pounds sterling to my aid. Up to his
arrival I was not aware of any pecuniary aid. I came unsalaried, but
this want is now happily repaired, and I am anxious that you and all my
friends should know that, though uncheered by letter, I have stuck to
the task which my friend Sir Roderick Murchison set me with " John
Bullish " tenacity, believing that all would come right at last.
The watershed of South Central Africa is over seven hundred miles in
length. The fountains thereon are almost innumerable — that is, it would
take a man's lifetime to count them. From the watershed they converge
into four large rivers, and these again into two mighty streams in the
great Nile valley, which begins in ten degrees to twelve degrees south
latitude. It was long ere light dawned on the, ancient problem and gave
me a clear idea of the drainage. I had to feel my way, and every step of
the way, and was, generally, groping in the dark — for who cared where
the rivers ran ? " We drank our fill and let the rest run by."
The Portuguese who visited Casembe asked for slaves and ivory, and
heard of nothing else. I asked about the waters, questioned and cross-
questioned, until I was almost afraid of being set down as afflicted with
My last work, in which I have been greatly hindered from want of
suitable attendants, was following the central line of drainage down
through the country of the cannibals, called Manyuema, or, shortly,
Manyema. This line of drainage has four large lakes in it. The fourth
I was near when obliged to turn. It is from one to three miles broad,
and never can be reached at any point, or at any time of the year. Two
western drains, the Lufira, or Bartle Frere's River, flow into it at Lake
Kamolondo. Then the great River Lomane flows through Lake Lincoln
into it too, and seems to form the western arm of the Nile, on which
Now, I knew about six hundred miles of the watershed, and unfortu-
nately the seventh hundred is the most interesting of the whole; for in it,
if I am not mistaken, four fountains arise from an earthen mound, and the
last of the four becomes, at no great distance off, a large river.
Two of these run north to Egypt, Lufira and Lomame, and two run
south into inner Ethiopia, as the Leambaye, or Upper Zambezi, and the
Are not these the sources of the Nile mentioned by the Secretary of
Minerva, in the city of Sais, to Herodotus ?
I have heard of them so often, and at great distances off, that I cannot
doubt their existence, and in spite of the sore longing for home that
seizes me every time I think of my family, I wish to finish up by their
Five hundred pounds sterling worth of goods have again unaccount-
ably been entrusted to slaves, and have been over a year on the way,
instead of four months. I must go where they lie at your expense, ere I
can put the natural completion to my work.
I conclude by again thanking you most cordially for your great gener-
osity, and am, Gratefully yours,
Help in this Hour of Need.
At the time, when reduced almost to. death's door by sickness and
disappointment, the assistance thus brought to Dr. Livingstone was of
inestimable worth. What might have been his fate had he not been
relieved, it is impossible to say. The society of his new friend, the letters
from home, the well-cooked meal which the doctor was able to enjoy,
and the champagne quaffed out of silver goblets, and brought carefully
those hundreds of miles for that special object, had a wonderfully exhila-
Some days were spent at Ujiji, during which the doctor continued to
regain health and strength. Future plans were discussed, and his pre-
vious adventures described. The longer the intercourse Stanley enjoyed
with Livingstone, the more he rose in his estimation.
He formed, indeed, a high estimate of his character, though, he fully
believed, a just one.
" Dr. Livingstone," he says, " is about sixty years old. His hair has a
brownish color, but here and there streaked with grey lines over the
temples. His beard and moustache are very grey. His eyes, which are
hazel, are remarkably bright : he has a sight keen as a hawk's. His
frame is a little over the ordinary height ; when walking, he has a firm
but heavy tread, like that of an over-worked or fatigued man. I never
observed any spleen or misanthrophy about him.
A Remarkable Man.
" He has a fund of quiet humor, which he exhibits at all tirnes when he
is among friends. During the four months I was with him I noticed
him every evening making most careful notes. His maps evince great
care and industry. He is sensitive on the point of being doubted or
criticized. His gentleness never forsakes him, his hopefulness never
deserts him ; no harassing anxiety or distraction of mind, though sepa-
rated from home and kindred, can make him complain. He thinks all
will come out right at last, he has such faith inthe goodness of Provi-
dence. Another thing which especially attracted my attention was his
wonderfully retentive memory. His religion is not of the theoretical
kind, but it is constant, earnest, sincere, practical ; it is neither demon-
strative nor loud, but manifests itself in a quiet, practical Way, and is
always at work. Ih him religion exhibits its loveliest features; it governs
his conduct not only towards his servants, but towards the natives. I
observed that universal respect was, paid to him; even the Mahomme-
dans never passed his hou^ without calling to pay their compliments,
and to say : * The blessing of God rest on you ! ' Every Sunday morn-
ing he gathers his little flock around him, and reads prayers and a chap-
ter from the Bible in a natural, unaffected, and sincere tone, and after-
wards delivers a short address inthe Kisawahili language, about the sub-
ject read to them, which is listened to with evident interest and attention.
" His consistent energy is native to him and his race. He is a very
fine example of the perseverance, doggedness, and tenacity which char-
acterizes the Anglo-Saxon spirit. His ability to withstand the climate
is due not only to the happy constitution with which he was born, but to
the strictly temperate life he has ever led,
" It is a principle with him to do well what he undertakes to do, and,
in the consciousness that he is doing it, despite the yearning for his
home, which is sometimes overpowering, he finds to a certain extent con-
tentment, if not happiness.
" He can be charmed with the primitive simplicity of Ethiopia's dusky
children, with whom he has spent so many years of his life. He has a
sturdy faith in their capability — sees virtue in them, where others see
nothing but savagery; and wherever he has gone among them, he has
sought to ameliorate the condition of a people who are apparently for-
gotten of God and Christian men."
In another place Stanley says : " Livingstone followed the dictates of
duty. Never was such a willing slave to that abstract virtue. His incli-
nations impell him home, the fascinations of which require the sternest
resolution to resist. With every foot of new ground he travelled over
he forged a chain of sympathy which should hereafter bind the Christian
nations in bonds of love and charity to the heathen of the African Tropics.
If we were able to complete this chain of love by actual discovery, and,
by a description of them, to embody such people and nations as still live
in darkness, so as to attract the good and charitable of his own land to
bestir themselves for their redemption and salvation, this Livingstone
would consider an ample reward.
"Surely, as the sun shines on both Christian and infidel, civilized and
pagan, the day of enlightenment will come; and though the apostle of
Africa may not behold it himself, nor we younger men, nor yet our chil-
dren, the hereafter will see it, and posterity will recognize the daring
pioneer of its civilization."
Yes, and Stanley might have added : with his enlarged and far-seeing
mind, this is what encourages Livingstone to persevere in his task to do
what he knows no other man can do as well. It might be far pleasanter
to tell crowded congregations at home about the wrongs of the sons and
daughters of Africa, but, with the spirit of a true apostle, he remains
among those whose wrongs it is the ardent desire of his soul to right,
that he may win their love and confidence, and open up the way by which
others may with greater ease continue the task he has commenced.
LIVINGSTONE'S LAST JOURNEY.
Continued in ERBzine 6099_15