rst Sunday when the usual service
was held he was present, and Livingstone was very thankful that he was
there, for it turned out to be the only proclamation of the gospel he
ever heard. For just after realizing what he had so long and ardently
desired, he was seized with severe inflammation of the lungs, and died
after a fortnight's illness. Livingstone, being a stranger, feared to
prescribe, lest, in the event of his death, he should be accused of
having caused it. On visiting him, and seeing that he was dying, he
spoke a few words respecting hope after death. But being checked by the
attendants for introducing the subject, he could only commend his soul
to God. The last words of Sebituane were words of kindness to
Livingstone's son: "Take him to Maunku (one of his wives) and tell her
to give him some milk." Livingstone was deeply affected by his death. A
deeper sense of brotherhood, a warmer glow of affection had been
kindled in his heart toward Sebituane than had seemed possible. With his
very tender conscience and deep sense of spiritual realities,
Livingstone was afraid, as in the case of Sehamy eight years before,
that he had not spoken to him so pointedly as he might have done. It is
awfully affecting to follow him into the unseen world, of which he had
heard for the first time just before he was called away. In his Journal,
Livingstone gives way to his feelings as he very seldom allowed himself
to do. His words bring to mind David's lament for Jonathan or for
Absalom, although he had known Sebituane less than a month, and he was
one of the race whom many Boers and slave-stealers regarded as having
no souls:

"Poor Sebituane, my heart bleeds for thee; and what would I
not do for thee now? I will weep for thee till the day of my
death. Little didst thou think when, in the visit of the
white man, thou sawest the long cherished desires of years
accomplished, that the sentence of death had gone forth! Thou
thoughtest that thou shouldest procure a weapon from the
white man which would be a shield from the attacks of the
fierce Matebele; but a more deadly dart than theirs was aimed
at thee; and though, thou couldest well ward off a dart--none
ever better--thou didst not see that of the king of terrors.
I will weep for thee, my brother, and I will cast forth my
sorrows in despair for thy condition! But I know that thou
wilt receive no injustice whither t