confidence, and future researches will probably correct much that is now accepted as settled; indeed, it is not too much to say that a century or more may be needed to place the geography of the continent on anything like a sure foundation. The unexplored districts are still enormous, probably far larger than is generally suspected. Tracts as vast as the German empire have never been penetrated by civilised man: broad rivers still wander through countries not certainly known to possess a rivulet: great lakes may be concealed in valleys far from the path followed by Cameron and Livingstone, and savage nations are still happy in their ignorance of the white races. The ablest living geographers are sorely puzzled to tell what is and what is not known, and many of them will be gathered to their fathers before anything like certainty on many debated points has been attained. Indeed, early in the present year, I attended a crowded meeting of the Royal Geographical Society at Burlington House, at which a number of remarkable letters from Lieutenant Cameron were read, and it was almost astonishing to notice how much diversity of opinion obtained among the learned men who were asked to speak as to what had been made out and what required re-examination. At any rate, this young officer has undoubtedly added to our knowledge and cleared up some dark points, and the high appreciation in which his services to geography are held by those most competent to judge, is proved by the great honour he has just received from the Royal Geographical Society,―he has, although only thirty-two years old, had the gold medal of that body conferred upon him, and been favoured with the much-coveted Companionship of the Bath at the hands of his Sovereign. According to present appearances a long and useful life awaits him, one full of honour, and he will doubtless build up a great reputation and add much to our still scanty knowledge of Africa; but let us not forget the labours of his predecessors, who died early and forgotten far from home and friends, and one of whom struggled on, not three years only but thirty years, and whose last breath was drawn in savage ard impassable wildernesses, where their bones have been beaten upon by wind and rain, or been the playthings of animals of prey. Fame is short lived, and this may, generally speaking, be unavoidable; but one at least of the explorers of Africa must never be forgotten, and may be remembered when most of the heroes and worthies of our day have ceased to be spoken of. Of course I mean David Livingstone.

It is no exaggeration to say that few men have contrived by their almost unaided exertions to attain such a brilliant position as that which the great missionary made for himself; and what is even more surprising, few of those who have ranked as high in the

estimation of their countrymen for commanding ability, ripe scholarship, or dauntless heroism, have been as conspicuous for modesty and humility. From the common failings of men who have raised themselves from poverty and ignorance into a position of honour and influence, David Livingstone was absolutely free. Не had the good breeding of the gentleman, the simple habits of the working man, and the charity and piety of the Christian,—truly a rare combination of virtues.

As is well known, the difficulties that in childhood surrounded the young Scotchman were apparently overwhelming, and might have daunted a man of ordinary resolution. But it has always been a characteristic of the national temperament that difficulties, instead of daunting, only spur on the Scotch to redoubled exertion. There is a quiet perseverance among them which, without apparently promising great things, leads to honour and wealth in later life whatever the impediments in youth. Hence it is that in all parts of the world the number of thriving Scotchmen is incredibly great; so large, indeed, is this proportion of prosperous, successful men to the population of the mother country that nothing resembling it obtains elsewhere. A Scotchman will overtake men who seem to have everything before them, and he will save and thrive where less thrifty people starve. Thus was it with Livingstone: born in a poor home, and cut off from many of the advantages now within the reach of the working classes, there seemed every prospect that he would live and die an unknown artisan. But the young lad possessed perseverence and energy far in excess of what even his countrymen can usually claim. In his simple and unassuming style he has related, for the encouragement of the poor and neglected, how he educated and fitted himself for a higher social sphere. From his small earnings he purchased books and paid for his education, and by the time he was twenty-three had attended many courses of medical and theological lectures in the University of Glasgow. In 1840 Livingstone was admitted a Licentiate of the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of that city. This body did itself the distinguished honour, seventeen years later, of conferring on its most illustrious member the title of Fellow. The young surgeon was desirous of at once turning his education to account, and of proceeding to China as a missionary. But England was at that time engaged in one of those inglorious and costly little wars, of which two or three are sometimes on hand at once, and Livingstone had for the time. to give up all thought of going to Asia, and to go to Africa instead, under the auspices of the London Missionary Society.

It is scarcely, by the way, possible for an Englishman to conceive the cheapness of, and the many opportunities for, self

education for which Scotland is remarkable. In England it is not easy for a chemist of good ability, even when living in a town possessing a medical school, to obtain a medical diploma; but north of the Tweed, although the facilities for acquiring the very highest education are undoubtedly not abundant, those for getting a good, sound training are cheap and open to all. It is the glory of the Scotch system that it places within the reach of the poorest and humblest, provided only that they possess talent and industry, stepping stones by means of which they can rise from the village school to a degree in arts, medicine, or theology. South of the Tweed many a young man of abilities equal to Livingstone's has been unable to acquire that book learning and culture almost indispensable to success in life. Had Livingstone been the son of a Dorset or Devonshire peasant he might possibly have forced his way to wealth in trade, but he could hardly have attained it in a profession. To the Scotch system of education as much as, perhaps more than to his abilities, Great Britain owes the triumphs of David Livingstone.

Livingstone, although, of course unable to foresee his future fame, must have known that he had rare abilities, and could not have been ignorant that, had he given his undivided attention to making a position and heaping up a fortune, he would as certainly have succeeded as many of those resolute, keen-witted Glasgow workmen who have forced themselves up in the world. But for money he never cared. It was his ambition to do the greatest good in his power and to improve the condition of the heathen. He thought himself, and the sequel showed how well he judged, admirably qualified for the life of a missionary.

On landing in Africa, Livingstone remained at the Cape for a time, and whilst there acquired some knowledge of the languages likely to be of the greatest service to him. At first he lived principally among the Bechuanas, for six months separating himself from European society, and then, as ever after, conducting himself with such tact and judgment that, without ceasing to influence them for their higher good, he contrived to get the love and confidence of the natives, and, what was still more difficult, to secure their respect.

In 1849, he commenced those great exploring expeditions for which his name will live in history. The first year he gave his attention to Lake Ngami and the surrounding country. Next year he set out on a second journey, but was impeded by severe illness. In 1851, he travelled through a distant, and at that time unexplored, portion of the vast wilderness which stretched from one ocean to the other. As was to be expected, his sufferings were terrible, and with great difficulty he reached the Portuguese settle.

ment of St. Paul, on the west coast of the Continent.

The more he did the more he was tempted to do; and in spite of a dangerous climate, bloody wars, continued ill-health, and terrible fatigue, he traversed and retraversed the interior of Africa until he had, very imperfectly of course, opened up some millions of square miles of country, and brought to the knowledge of his countrymen many nations of whose very existence the civilised world was ignorant. Never did anyone face greater perils, or more heroically and calmly pass through them. One of his most memorable journeys was that in which he explored the southern parts of the Continent, and which he ended on the east coast at Quillimane, in 1856, near the mouth of the Zambesi. Soon after this he returned to England and received some honourable distinctions, never better earned, from the learned societies of London and Paris. In 1857 he published a work that was read with pleasure by nearly every Englishman of education; and then for the first time his many admirers understood what difficulties had retarded the progress of the author of "Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa."

Livingstone had none of the bigotry and dread of the world and its pursuits for which missionaries are occasionally conspicuous. In practice he was a broad, liberal churchman, full of love to all classes and sects, and uniting the wisdom of the serpent to the gentleness of the dove. This he remarkably exemplified in his method of exploring and opening up Africa. He believed commerce to be the handmaiden of Christianity, and contended that the missionary should also be a trader, a fact well known to and acted upon by the zealous Jesuits, as well as by the Dutch clergy, but ignored by English missionaries. This point Livingstone attempted to prove in his admirable work, and there is no doubt that the larger and broader views now generally entertained on the subject are mainly due to his exertions and writings.

Livingstone might now have settled at home, and filled his days in honour and wealth; but he was not the man to rest on his oars, wasting the precious years of life. In 1858 he was again at his post, and never spared himself a moment. For six years he now gave his attention to exploring the country through which the Zambesi flows, and among other places, visited Lake Nyassa. In 1864 he came to England again for a short time, but the following year returned to Africa, and recommenced with unabated ardour his

untiring travels. But for his admirable skill as a surveyor, Livingstone could have done little as a scientific geographer. Other men, assisted by the most perfect modern instruments, might have penetrated into the same districts, yet have discovered next to nothing. But this wonderful man had a rare talent for perceiving

at a glance the peculiarities of the regions through which he passed. Of course he did little more than mark down the principal objects of importance, but few men could, under similar adverse circumstances, have done as much. It is not an easy thing, let me assure the reader, to take in the peculiarities of broad tracts of country: let anyone who questions this try to write a description of any portion of his native land which he has passed through a hundred times, and ought to know thoroughly. Wherever he wandered Livingstone made valuable discoveries. While placing strange races in communication with Europe he imparted to them some of the advantages of civilised life and manners, and he set, wherever he went, an example of integrity and piety, worth more than anything else. We cannot yet fully understand all that he did and found out, although it is certain that his researches and discoveries have been productive of even more important results than was a few years ago suspected. For years to come the respect and admiration with which his labours are regarded by thoughtful men will increase, and the world will be better able to appreciate their vast importance.

As is generally known, Livingstone's wife was the daughter of the distinguished African missionary, Robert Moffat, and a more devoted and faithful woman never lived. Her death, which occurred in April 1862, was extremely sad. For ten long years of suspense and sorrow she had seen little of her husband, but on the first of February, 1862, she had the pleasure of being reunited to him. She went out to Africa for the purpose, and was rejoined by the great missionary near the Luabo mouth of the Zambesi, and at Shupanga, a hundred miles up the river, Livingstone was parted from his wife for ever. She appeared in good health, and on one of the last evenings in April went a walk up the river with her husband and the Rev. James Stewart. A week from that day she was dead. In the course of the week her health failed, and it was evident she was suffering from the fever for which the country is deservedly dreaded. On the Saturday she was seen to be in danger, and was taken to Shupanga House. Gradually she became worse, and her medical attendant, Dr. Kirk, the distinguished English political agent at Zanzibar, though he exerted himself to the utmost, was unable to stop the progress of the fatal disease-who, indeed, ever knew the ablest physician successful in grappling with serious illness? Science may prevent, but rarely indeed can she cure sickness.

On the last Sunday in April, at six in the evening, the end approached fast, and the heart-broken Livingstone sent for his friend, the Rev. James Stewart. When the latter entered the room the great missionary calmly said, "The end is evidently