xercised in his
own interest, but in that of others. It was Mr. Rutherfoord who, when
Livingstone was at the Cape in 1852, entered into his plans for
supplanting the slave-trade by lawful traffic, and at his suggestion
engaged George Fleming to go north with him as a trader, and try the
experiment. The project was not very successful, owing to innumerable
unforeseen worries, and especially the rascality of Fleming's men.
Livingstone found it impossible to take Fleming to the coast, and had
therefore to send him back, but he did his utmost to prevent loss to his
friend; and thus, as Mr. Rutherfoord said, "at the very time that he was
engaged in such important duties, and exposed to such difficulties, he
found time to fulfill his promise to do what he could to save me from
loss, to attend to a matter quite foreign to his usual avocations, and
in which he had no personal interest; and by his energy and good sense,
and self-denying exertions, to render the plan, if not perfectly
successful, yet by no means a failure."

Traveler, geographer, zoologist, astronomer, missionary, physician, and
mercantile director, did ever man sustain so many characters at once? Or
did ever man perform the duties of each with such painstaking accuracy
and so great success?

As soon as he could tear himself from his first engagements, he ran down
to Hamilton to see his mother, children, and other relatives. His
father's empty chair deeply affected him. "The first evening," writes
one of his sisters, "he asked all about his illness and death. One of
us remarking that after he knew he was dying his spirits seemed to rise,
David burst into tears. At family worship that evening he said with deep
feeling--'We bless thee, O Lord, for our parents; we give thee thanks
for the dead who has died in the Lord.'"

At first Livingstone thought that his stay in this country could be only
for three or four months, as he was eager to be at Quilimane before the
unhealthy season set in, and thus fulfill his promise to return to his
Makololo at Tette. But on receiving an assurance from the Portuguese
Government (which, however, was never fulfilled _by them_) that his men
would be looked after, he made up his mind for a somewhat longer stay.
But it could not be called rest. As soon as he could settle down he had
to set to work with a book. So long before as May, 1856, Sir Roderick
Murchison had written to him that "Mr. John Murray, the great publisher,
is most an