The Personal Life of David Livingstone Part 33

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 Sat.u.r.day, 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 a.s.sisted twelve years before at the funeral of Mrs.

Livingstone at Shupanga. Dr. Moffat, too, was there, full of sorrowful admiration. Amid a service which was emphatically impressive throughout, the simple words of the hymn, sung to the tune of Tallis, were peculiarly touching:

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

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

BROUGHT BY FAITHFUL HANDS OVER LAND AND SEA,

HERE RESTS

DAVID LIVINGSTONE,

MISSIONARY, TRAVELER, PHILANTHROPIST,

BORN MARCH 19, 1813, AT BLANTYRE, LANARKSHIRE.

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

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

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

Along the right border of the stone are the words:

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

And along the left border:

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

On the 25th June, 1868, not far from the northern border of that lake Bangweolo on whose southern sh.o.r.e he pa.s.sed 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 n.o.ble Christian life, and feel how like he was to Him of whom it is written: "The Spirit of the Lord G.o.d 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 G.o.d; 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."

"Droop half-mast colors, bow, bareheaded crowds, As this plain coffin o'er the side is slung, To pa.s.s by woods of masts and ratlined shrouds, As erst by Afric's trunks, liana-hung.

'Tis the last mile of many thousands trod With failing strength but never-failing will, By the worn frame, now at its rest with G.o.d, That never rested from its fight with ill.

Or if the ache of travel and of toil Would sometimes wring a short, sharp cry of pain From agony of fever, blain, and boil, 'Twas but to crush it down and on again!

He knew not that the trumpet he had blown Out of the darkness of that dismal land, Had reached and roused an army of its own To strike the chains from the slave's fettered hand.

Now we believe, he knows, sees all is well; How G.o.d had stayed his will and shaped his way, To bring the light to those that darkling dwell With gains that life's devotion well repay.

Open the Abbey doors and bear him in To sleep with king and statesman, chief and sage, The missionary come of weaver-kin, But great by work that brooks no lower wage.

He needs no epitaph to guard a name Which men shall prize while worthy work is known; He lived and died for good--be that his fame: Let marble crumble: this is Living--stone."--_Punch_.

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 n.o.bleness 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 n.o.ble 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 n.o.blest 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 l.u.s.tre 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 n.o.ble-hearted philanthropist; but I like to think of him, not only thus, but as a man who was a servant of G.o.d, loved his Word intensely, and while he spoke to men of G.o.d, spoke more to G.o.d 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. G.o.d called and qualified him for a n.o.ble work, which, by grace, he n.o.bly 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:

"LONDON, _Feb._ 18_th_,1874.

"DEAR MISS LIVINGSTONE,--I am only one of all England which is feeling with you and for you at this moment.

"But Sir Bartle Frere encourages me to write to you.

"We cannot help still yearning to hear of some hope that your great father may be still alive.

"G.o.d knows; and in knowing that He knows who is all wisdom, goodness, and power, we must find our rest.

"He has taken away, if at last it be as we fear, the greatest man of his generation, for Dr. Livingstone stood alone.

"There are few enough, but a few statesmen. There are few enough, but a few great in medicine, or in art, or in poetry.

There are a few great travelers. But Dr. Livingstone stood alone as the great Missionary Traveler, the bringer-in of civilization; or rather the pioneer of civilization--he that cometh before--to races lying in darkness.

"I always think of him as what John the Baptist, had he been living in the nineteenth century, would have been.

"Dr. Livingstone's fame was so world-wide that there were other nations who understood him even better than we did.

"Learned philologists from Germany, not at all orthodox in their opinions, have yet told me that Dr. Livingstone was the only man who understood races, and how to deal with them for good; that he was the one true missionary. We cannot console ourselves for our loss. He is irreplaceable.

"It is not sad that he should have died out there. Perhaps it was the thing, much as he yearned for home, that was the fitting end for him. He may have felt it so himself.

"But would that he could have completed that which he offered his life to G.o.d to do!