ing of good — will and enforcement of respect, make a story that should be studied in his full narrative.
The summer of 1884 found the work of founding the State virtually finished, and Stanley nearly finished, too. There had been difficulties of all kinds, in which almost the entire responsibility had rested on his shoulders, and he had reached the limit of his strength; could he but hand over his work to a fit successor!
There was a man at that time in retreat, near Mount Carmel.
If he but emerged from his seclusion, he had all the elements in him of the man that was needed: indefatigable industry; that magnetism which commands affection, obedience, and perfect trust; that power of reconciling men, no matter of what colour, to their duties; that cheerful promise that in him lay security and peace; that loving solicitude which betokens the kindly chief.
That man was General Gordon.
For six months I waited his coming; finally, letters came announcing his departu
nfinite skill and patience; and in a spirit of heartiest human good-will, dashed, often, with boyish humour that went home to the savage heart.
He tells with gusto of the welcome given to frolicking races, and the gambols indulged in by his good Danish follower, Albert:--
The dark faces light up with friendly gleams, and a budding of good — will may perhaps date from this trivial scene.
To such an impressionable being as an African native, the self-involved European, with his frigid, impery and honourable exceptions, and these he praises warmly in the book.
The Congo, and the Founding of its Free State. Such were the Scotch engineer, Binnie, who so stoutly held his solitary post at Stanley Falls; the efficient and fine-spirited Danish sailor, Albert Christopherson; the Scandinavian seaman, Captain Anderson, with his genius for inspiring everyone near him to work; the Englishman, A. B. Swinburne, with a genius for gardening and home-making, and for winning the affection of both