ver deserts him. No harassing anxieties,
distraction of mind, long separation from home and kindred,
can make him complain. He thinks 'all will come out right at
last'; he has such faith in the goodness of Providence. The
sport of adverse circumstances, the plaything of the
miserable beings sent to him from Zanzibar--he has been
baffled and worried, even almost to the grave, yet he will
not desert the charge imposed upon him by his friend Sir
Roderick Murchison. To the stern dictates of duty, alone, has
he sacrificed his home and ease, the pleasures, refinements,
and luxuries of civilized life. His is the Spartan heroism,
the inflexibility of the Roman, the enduring resolution of
the Anglo-Saxon--never to relinquish his work, though his
heart yearns for home; never to surrender his obligations
until he can write FINIS to his work.

"There is a good-natured _abandon_ about Livingstone which
was not lost on me. Whenever he began to laugh, there was a
contagion about it that compelled me to imitate him. It was
such a laugh as Teufelsdroeckh's--a laugh of the whole man
from head to heel. If he told a story, he related it in such
a way as to convince one of its truthfulness; his face was so
lit up by the sly fun it contained, that I was sure the story
was worth relating, and worth listening to.

"Another thing that especially attracted my attention was his
wonderfully retentive memory. If we remember the many years
he has spent in Africa, deprived of books, we may well think
it an uncommon memory that can recite whole poems from Byron,
Burns, Tennyson, Longfellow, Whittier, and Lowell....

"His religion is not of the theoretical kind, but it is a
constant, earnest, sincere practice. It is neither
demonstrative nor loud, but manifests itself in a quiet,
practical way, and is always at work. It is not aggressive,
which sometimes is troublesome if not impertinent. In him
religion exhibits its loveliest features; it governs his
conduct not only toward his servants but toward the natives,
the bigoted Mohammedans, and all who come in contact with
him. Without it, Livingstone, with his ardent temperament,
his enthusiasm, his high spirit and courage, must have become
uncompanionable, and a hard master. Religion has tamed him
and made hi