DAVID LIVINGSTONE FOE OF DARKNESS by JEANETTE EATON 1947

[p.] 25 [...]   He had done so well in his medical course that he had decided to apply for work as a medical missionary in China.   His old instructor at the church in Hamilton urged him to present his application to the London Missionary Society.   That liberal group was ready to send out young men from any Protestant church.   [...]

[p.] 33    Often David laid his finger against a spot on the map nearly a thousand miles north of Cape Town.   It was called Kuruman.   There the most northern Presbyterian

[p.] 34 mission had established a school, chapel, and houses for workers.   [...]    He [My. Robert Moffat] had translated the New Testament into the Sichuana laguage--the root language of Africa. Now and then the speaker's eyes rested on David's absorbed face.    After that David always managed to be present when Dr. Moffat came to the students' house.   He also heard the missionary speak at various churches.   At last one day the youth found an opportunity to ask the founder of Kuruman a personal question.    "Dr. Moffat," he said shyly, "the London Society is considering me as a medical missionary to Africa.   Do you think I would do for the assignment?   I'm very strong, used to hard work and to long journeys afoot. It is my hope, sir, to devote what talents I have to the cause of Christianity."    The missionary's quick glance took in David's angu- lar face and spare, muscular figure.   "I've heard you are doing very well in medicine, Mr. Livingstone," he said in a kindly tone.   "I think you would be of value in Africa

[p.] 35 if you don't stick to a missionary station which is already well set up.   Go to a new place.   In the vast, unknown plain I have sometimes seen in the morning sun the smoke of a thousand villages where no missionary has ever been."    The words thrilled David through.   "The smoke of a thousand villages!"   What a picture!   [...] and pioneered in Scotland rose to meet this challenge.   Africa would be adventure --adventure for the Lord.   From then on he could hardly wait to set out upon his mission.   He got a copy of the Sichuana Testament and began to study the language.    [...]

[p.] 36 [...]   He [David] was formally ordained as a missionary in St.

[p.] 37 Albans Chapel.   [...]    [...] "Where are you bound for, sir?"    "Africa," replied David. [...]

[p.] 42 At every mission the two young men distributed copies of Dr. Moffat's translated Testament.   David read aloud paragraphs from it every night at the camp service.   It gave him practice in the native language and he picked up as much as he could from the guides.    [...]

[p.] 45    David was given a room in Dr. Moffat's house.   A grave, middle-aged man named Roger Edwards took charge of him, [...]

[p.] 46 [...] For several of the sick were Bakwains and he began to make progress in that dialect.   [...]

[p.] 48 Through an interpreter he told his visitors that they should go on to Lepelole many miles north to see the Bakwain chief, Bubi.   As he listened, David was more sure than ever that knowledge of the language was the master key to acquaintance with the people.    [...]

[p.] 52 David told him of his mission and the chief begged to learn about the white man's God. [...]    Then suddenly the chief flung out both his hands in passionate entreaty.   "I wish you would change my heart. Give me medicine to change it, for it is proud and angry, angry always."    Looking into the glowing dark eyes, David said gently, "If you will let the loving spirit of Christ enter your heart, it will be changed."    "Nay!" cried the chief and beat his breast with both hands.   "I wish to have it changed by medicine and to have it changed at once, for it is always very proud and very uneasy and continually angry with someone."    David smiled pityingly at this very human wish for a quick dose of holiness.   "Alas, medicine heals only the body.   Love, a thing of the spirit, must push anger from your heart."

[p.] 53    For eight months Livingstone had to remain at Kuruman.   He practiced medicine, taught school, preached in the chapel, walked miles around the coun-

[p.] 54 try, and studied the African language.   [...]    David had written the London Society that native teachers ought to carry on missions founded by English workers.   In that way more ground could be covered. He hoped Mebalwe would demonstrate the value of this idea.   [...]

[p.] 63    "Well then, did your forefathers know what you told us today?   Did they know that they would be brought before the judgment seat of God?"    "Yes, Chief Sechele, they knew that.   They had been told of the awful moment when a soul rises into heaven and appears before Him from Whose Face earth and heaven shall flee away."    "Ah!" cried out Sechele with his hand on his heart. "These words make my bones to shake.   I have no more strength.   But why were our fathers not told this? They passed into darkness knowing not where they were going."    [...]

[p.] 65 [...] Edwards objected to David's manner of preaching.   In- stead of making an emotional appeal for repentance of sin and belief in Christ, the Scotchman seemed to be telling a story.   [...]

[p.] 122 [...], he faced the future squarely.   This was a dark hour.   He was stak- ing all he possessed, all he cared about in life, on his hope of doing something essential for Africa.   [...] But he could never have imagined the adventures awaiting him in that land marked on the big map "Unexplored."

[p.] 192    November saw the publication of David's Mission- ary Travels.   12,000 copies were sold before the first edition left the press, and already another edi- tion was on the way.   [...]

[p.] 195    "I beg to direct your attention to Africa.   I know that in a few years I shall be cut off in that country which is now open.   Do not let it be shut again.   I go back to Africa to try to make an open path for commerce and Christianity."   Suddenly his voice rose to a shout.   "Do you carry on the work which I have begun!   I leave it with you!"

[p.] 245    Smiling shyly, he made an obvious effort to speak calmly.   In a choked voice he asked, "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?"    Wondering a little at this show of emotion, David held out his hand.   "Yes.   Welcome to Ujiji!" he said.

[p.] 251    [Henry M.] Stanley left Livingstone on March 14, 1872.   [...]

[p.] 252 [...] There in the heart of Africa on a soft May Day morning David Livingstone had died.    What happened then is one of the great stories of the world.   [...]

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