DAVID LIVINGSTONE, THE BELOVED MISSIONARY 301 
heads of the Society to the Rev. Richard Cecil, who examined him in 
common with several other candidates, and gave an unfavorable report, 
especially in regard to the young applicant's powers as a preacher. It 
was, in consequence, by the merest chance that he was accepted. Some 
one pleaded in his favor; he was given another opportunity, and finally 
his services were engaged. It had been the young applicant's desire to 
make China his field of labor, and he had studied medicine with that 
end in view. But the opium war which had broken out with that 
country closed it for the time to the Europeans, and a meeting with 
Robert Moffat, who had lately returned to England from his mission 
in South Africa, led Livingstone to determine on that almost unknown 
region as the scene of his future labors. Dr. Moffat has left an account 
of this meeting, which has a special interest in the light of the lifelong 
connection which was to unite the two men, and a portion of it may be 
quoted here. 
“He asked me whether I thought he would do for Africa. I said 
I believed he would, if he would not go to an old station, but would 
advance to unoccupied ground, specifying the vast plain to the north, 
where I had sometimes seen, in the morning sun, the smoke of a thou¬ 
sand villages, where no missionary had ever been. At last Livingstone 
said: ‘What is the use of my waiting for the end of this abominable 
opium war? I will go at once to Africa!' The Directors concurred, 
and Africa became his sphere." 
Livingstone had been studying both theology and medicine in 
London for some time, and toward the end of 1840 he returned to 
Glasgow, and obtained that medical diploma to which reference has 
already been made. He was now therefore equipped for the fight, and 
with the ardor of his nature was willing and anxious for service. He 
had not long to wait. Within a few days he received the summons, 
and on the 17th of November bade farewell to his relatives and friends, 
and returned to London. His father, for whom he had both affection 
and respect, he was never to see again. Sixteen years later, when 
Livingstone was winning glory in the heart of Africa, the old man 
died, but not before he had heard with pride and thankfulness of his 
son's achievements. In simple language the son has written a beau¬ 
tiful elegy upon him, closing with these pregnant words: “I revere 
his memory." 
