Coming back to Linyanti, he turned his face eastward, discovered Victoria Falls on the Zambesi, and finally arrived at Cuilimane on the coast. On his second series of journeys (1858-1864) he explored the Zambesi, the Shire, and the Rovuma rivers in the East, and discovered Lake Nyasa. On his final expedition (1866-1873), in hunting for the upper courses of the Nile, he discovered Lakes Tanganyika, Mweru, and Bangweolo, and the Lualaba River. His achievement as an explorer was as distinct as it was unparalleled. His work as a missionary and his worth as a man it is not quite so easy to express concretely; but in these capacities he was no less distinguished and his accomplishment no less signal.
There had been missionaries, and great ones, in Africa before Livingstone. The difference between Livingstone and consecrated men was not so much in devotion as in the conception of the task. He himself felt that a missionary in the Africa of his day was to be more than a mere preacher of the word--that he would have also to be a Christian statesman, and even a director of exploration and commerce if need be.
This was his t.i.tle to greatness; to him "the end of the geographical feat was only the beginning of the enterprise." Knowing, however, that many honest persons did not sympathize with him in this conception of his mission, after 1856 he declined longer to accept salary from the missionary society that originally sent him out, working afterwards under the patronage of the British Government and the Royal Geographical Society.
His sympathy and his courtesy were unfailing, even when he himself was placed in the greatest danger. Said Henry Drummond of him: "Wherever David Livingstone"s footsteps are crossed in Africa the fragrance of his memory seems to remain." On one occasion a hunter was impaled on the horn of a rhinoceros, and a messenger ran eight miles for the physician.
Although he himself had been wounded for life by a lion and his friends insisted that he should not ride at night through a wood infested with wild beasts, Livingstone insisted on his Christian duty to go, only to find that the man had died and to have to retrace his footsteps.
Again and again his party would have been destroyed by some savage chieftain if it had not been for his own unbounded tact and courage. To the devoted men who helped him he gave the a.s.surance that he would die before he would permit them to be taken; and after his death at Chitambo"s village Susi and Chuma journeyed for nine months and over eight hundred miles of dangerous country to take his body to the coast.
Livingstone was a man of tremendous faith, in his mission, in his country, in humanity, in G.o.d. He wrote on one occasion: "This age presents one great fact in the Providence of G.o.d; missions are sent forth to all quarters of the world,--missions not of one section of the Church, but from all sections, and from nearly all Christian nations. It seems very unfair to judge of the success of these by the number of the conversions that have followed. These are rather proofs of the missions being of the right sort. The fact which ought to stimulate us above all others is, not that we have contributed to the conversion of a few souls, however valuable these may be, but that we are diffusing a knowledge of Christianity throughout the world. Future missionaries will see conversions follow every sermon. We prepare the way for them. We work for a glorious future which we are not destined to see--the golden age which has not been, but will yet be. We are only morning-stars shining in the dark, but the glorious morn will break, the good time coming yet. For this time we work; may G.o.d accept our imperfect service."
Of such quality was David Livingstone--Missionary, Explorer, Philanthropist. "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." To what extent after sixty years have we advanced toward his ideals? With what justice are we the inheritors of his renown?
IRA ALDRIDGE
WILLIAM J. SIMMONS
The name of Aldridge has always been placed at the head of the list of Negro actors. He has indeed become the most noted of them, and his name is cited as standing first in his calling among all colored persons who have ever appeared on the stage. He was born at Belaire, near Baltimore, in 1804. In complexion he was dark brown, and with heavy whiskers; standing six feet in height, with heavy frame, African features, and yet with due proportions; he was graceful in his att.i.tudes, highly polished in manners.
In his early days he was apprenticed to a ship carpenter, and had his a.s.sociation with the Germans on the western sh.o.r.es of Maryland. Here he became familiar with the German language and spoke it not only with ease but with fluency. He was brought in contact with Edmund Kean, the great actor, in 1826, whom he accompanied in his trip through Europe. His ambition to become an actor was encouraged by Kean, and receiving his a.s.sistance in the preparation, he made his appearance first at the Royalty Theatre in London, in the character of Oth.e.l.lo. Public applause greeted him of such an extraordinary nature, that he was billed to appear at the Covent Garden Theatre April 10, 1839, in the same character.
After many years" successful appearances in many of the metropolitan cities, he appeared in the Provinces with still greater success. In Ireland he performed Oth.e.l.lo, with Edmund Kean as Iago. In 1852 he appeared in Germany in Shakespearean characters. He was p.r.o.nounced excellent, and though a stranger and a foreigner, he undertook the very difficult task of playing in English, while his whole support was rendered in the language of the country. It is said that until this time, such an experiment was not considered susceptible of a successful end, but nevertheless, with his impersonations he succeeded admirably.
It is said that the King of Prussia was so deeply moved with his appearance in the character of Oth.e.l.lo, at Berlin, that he spent him a congratulatory letter, and conferred upon him the t.i.tle of chevalier, in recognition of his dramatic genius, and informed him that the lady who took the part of Desdemona was so much affected at the manner in which he played his part that she was made ill from fright on account of the reality with which he acted his part.
Some idea of the character of his acting might be gained from the fact that the lady who played Desdemona in St. Petersburg, became very much alarmed at what appeared real pa.s.sion on his part, in acting Oth.e.l.lo; though he was never rough or indelicate in any of his acting with ladies, yet she was so frightened that she used to scream with real fear.
It is said that on another occasion in St. Petersburg, that in the midst of his acting in scene two, act five, when he was quoting these words,
"It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul; Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars!
It is the cause. Yet I"ll not shed her blood, Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster.
Yet she must die, else she"ll betray more men.
Put out the light, and then--put out the light!
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me: But once put out thy light, Thou cunning"st pattern of excelling nature; I know not where is that Promethean heat, That can thy light relume. When I have plucked thy rose, I cannot give it vital growth again; It needs must wither:--I"ll smell it on the tree-- (_kissing her_) O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade Justice to break her sword:--One more, one more:-- Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, And love thee after:--One more--and this the last: So sweet was ne"er so fatal. I must weep.
But they are cruel tears: This sorrow"s heavenly: It strikes where it doth love."
the house was so carried away with the manner in which he rendered it, that a young man stood up and exclaimed with the greatest earnestness: "She is innocent, Oth.e.l.lo, she is innocent," and yet so interested was he in the acting himself that he never moved a muscle but continued as if nothing had been said to embarra.s.s him. The next day he learned, while dining with a Russian prince, that a young man who had been present had been so affected by the play that he had been seized with a sudden illness and died the next day.
Mr. Aldridge was a welcome guest in the ranks of the cultured and wealthy, and was often in the "salons" of the haughty aristocrats of St.
Petersburg and Moscow. t.i.tled ladies wove, knitted and st.i.tched their pleasing emotions into various memorials of friendship. In his palatial residence at Sydenham, near London, were collected many presents of intrinsic value, rendered almost sacred by a.s.sociation. Prominent among these tokens of regard was an autographic letter from the King of Prussia, transmitting the first medal of art and sciences; the Cross of Leopold, from the Emperor of Russia, and a Maltese cross received at Berne.
In all his triumphs he never lost interest in the condition of his race.
He always took an interest in everything touching their welfare, and though exalted to the companionship of those who ranked high in every department of life, yet he never in any way forgot the humble race with which he was identified, and was always solicitous for their welfare and promotion. He was an a.s.sociate of the most prominent men of Paris, among whom was Alexander Dumas. When the great tragedian and great writer met they always kissed each other, and Dumas always greeted Aldridge with the words Mon Confrere. He died at Lodes, in Poland, August 7, 1867.
FIFTY YEARS
1863-1913
JAMES WELDON JOHNSON
O brothers mine, to-day we stand Where half a century sweeps our ken, Since G.o.d, through Lincoln"s ready hand, Struck off our bonds and made us men.
Just fifty years--a winter"s day-- As runs the history of a race; Yet, as we look back o"er the way, How distant seems our starting place!
Look farther back! Three centuries!
To where a naked, shivering score, s.n.a.t.c.hed from their haunts across the seas, Stood wild-eyed, on Virginia"s sh.o.r.e.
Far, far the way that we have trod, From heathen kraals and jungle dens, To freedmen, freemen, sons of G.o.d, Americans and Citizens.
A part of His unknown design, We"ve lived within a mighty age; And we have helped to write a line On history"s most wondrous page.
A few black bondmen strewn along The borders of our eastern coast, Now grown a race, ten million strong, An upward, onward marching host.
Then let us here erect a stone, To mark the place, to mark the time; A witness to G.o.d"s mercies shown, A pledge to hold this day sublime.
And let that stone an altar be, Whereon thanksgivings we may lay, Where we, in deep humility, For faith and strength renewed may pray.
With open hearts ask from above New zeal, new courage and new pow"rs, That we may grow more worthy of This country and this land of ours.
For never let the thought arise That we are here on sufferance bare; Outcasts, asylumed "neath these skies And aliens without part or share.
This land is ours by right of birth, This land is ours by right of toil; We helped to turn its virgin earth, Our sweat is in its fruitful soil.
Where once the tangled forest stood,-- Where flourished once rank weed and thorn,-- Behold the path-traced, peaceful wood, The cotton white, the yellow corn.
To gain these fruits that have been earned, To hold these fields that have been won, Our arms have strained, our backs have burned, Bent bare beneath a ruthless sun.
That Banner which is now the type Of victory on field and flood-- Remember, its first crimson stripe Was dyed by Attucks" willing blood.
And never yet has come the cry-- When that fair flag has been a.s.sailed-- For men to do, for men to die, That have we faltered or have failed.
We"ve helped to bear it, rent and torn, Through many a hot-breath"d battle breeze; Held in our hands, it has been borne And planted far across the seas.
And never yet--O haughty Land, Let us, at least, for this be praised-- Has one black, treason-guided hand Ever against that flag been raised.
Then should we speak but servile words, Or shall we hang our heads in shame?
Stand back of new-come foreign hordes, And fear our heritage to claim?
No! stand erect and without fear, And for our foes let this suffice-- We"ve bought a rightful sonship here, And we have more than paid the price.
And yet, my brothers, well I know The tethered feet, the pinioned wings, The spirit bowed beneath the blow, The heart grown faint from wounds and stings;