FIRST VISIT HOME.
A.D. 1856-1857.
Mrs. Livingstone--Her intense anxieties--Her poetical
welcome--Congratulatory letters from Mrs. and Dr, Moffat--Meeting of
welcome of Royal Geographical Society--of London Missionary
Society--Meeting in Mansion House--Enthusiastic public meeting at Cape
Town--Livingstone visits Hamilton--Returns to London to write his
book--Letter to Mr. Maclear--Dr. Risdon Bennett's reminiscences of this
period--Mr. Frederick Fitch's--Interview with Prince
Consort--Honors--Publication and great success of _Missionary
Travels_--Character and design of the book--Why it was not more of a
missionary record--Handsome conduct of publisher--Generous use of the
profits--Letter to a lady in Carlisle vindicating the character of
his speeches.
The years that had elapsed since Dr. Livingstone bade his wife farewell
at Cape Town had been to her years of deep and often terrible anxiety.
Letters, as we have seen, were often lost, and none seem more frequently
to have gone missing than those between him and her. A stranger in
England, without a home, broken in health, with a family of four to care
for, often without tidings of her husband for great stretches of time,
and harassed with anxieties and apprehensions that sometimes proved too
much for her faith, the strain on her was very great. Those who knew her
in Africa, when, "queen of the wagon," and full of life, she directed
the arrangements and sustained the spirits of a whole party, would
hardly have thought her the same person in England. When Livingstone had
been longest unheard of, her heart sank altogether; but through prayer,
tranquillity of mind returned, even before the arrival of any letter
announcing his safety. She had been waiting for him at Southampton,
and, owing to the casualty in the Bay of Tunis, he arrived at Dover, but
as soon as possible he was with her, reading the poetical welcome which
she had prepared in the hope that they would never part again:
"A hundred thousand welcomes, and it's time for you to come
From the far land of the foreigner, to your country and your home.
O long as we were parted, ever since you went away,
I never passed a dreamless night, or knew an easy day.
So you think I would reproach you with the sorrows that I bore?
Since the sorrow is all over, now I have you here once more,
And there's nothing but the gladness, and the love within my heart,
And the hope so sweet and certain that again we'll never part.
* * * * *
A hundred thousand welcomes! how my heart is gushing o'er
With the love and joy and wonder thus to see your face once more.
How did I live without you these long long years of woe?
It seems as if 'twould kill me to be parted from you now.
You'll never part me, darling, there's a promise in your eye;
I may tend you while I'm living, you may watch me when I die;
And if death but kindly lead me to the blessed home on high,
What a hundred thousand welcomes will await you in the sky!
"MARY."
Having for once lifted the domestic veil, we cannot resist the
temptation to look into another corner of the home circle. Among the
letters of congratulation that poured in at this time, none was more
sincere or touching than that which Mrs. Livingstone received from her
mother, Mrs. Moffat[48]. In the fullnes of her congratulations she does
not forget the dark shadow that falls on the missionary's wife when the
time comes for her to go back with her husband to their foreign home,
and requires her to part with her children; tears and smiles mingle in
Mrs. Moffat's letter as she reminds her daughter that they that rejoice
need to be as though they rejoiced not:
[Footnote 48: We have been greatly impressed by Mrs. Moffat's letters.
She was evidently a woman of remarkable power. If her life had been
published, we are convinced that it would have been a notable one in
missionary biography. Heart and head were evidently of no common
calibre. Perhaps it is not yet too late for some friend to think
of this.]
"_Kuruman, December_ 4, 1856.--MY DEAREST MARY,--In
proportion to the anxiety I have experienced about you and
your dear husband for some years past, so now is my joy and
satisfaction; even though we have not yet heard the glad
tidings of your having really met, but this for the present
we take for granted. Having from the first been in a subdued
and chastened state of mind on the subject, I endeavor still
to be moderate in my joy. With regard to you both ofttimes
has the sentence of death been passed in my mind, and at such
seasons I dared not, desired not, to rebel, submissively
leaving all to the Divine disposal; but I now feel that this
has been a suitable preparation for what is before me, having
to contemplate a complete separation from you till that day
when we meet with the spirits of just men made perfect in the
kingdom of our Father. Yes, I do feel solemn at death, but
there is no melancholy about it, for what is our life, so
short and so transient? And seeing it is so, we should be
happy to do or to suffer as much as we can for him who bought
us with his blood. Should you go to those wilds which God has
enabled your husband, through numerous dangers and deaths, to
penetrate, there to spend the remainder of your life, and as
a consequence there to suffer manifold privations, in
addition to those trials through which you have already
passed--and they have not been few (for you had a hard life
in this interior)--you will not think all _too much_, when
you stand with that multitude who have washed their robes in
the blood of the Lamb!
"Yet, my dear Mary, while we are yet in the flesh my heart
will yearn over you. You are my own dear child, my
first-born, and recent circumstances have had a tendency to
make me feel still more tenderly toward you, and deeply as I
have sympathized with you for the last few years, I shall not
cease to do so for the future. Already is my imagination busy
picturing the various scenes through which you must pass,
from the first transport of joy on meeting till that painful
anxious hour when you must bid adieu to your darlings, with
faint hopes of ever seeing them again in this life; and then,
what you may both have to pass through in those inhospitable
regions....
"From what I saw in Mr. Livingston's letter to Robert, I was
shocked to think that that poor head, in the prime of
manhood, was so like my own, who am literally worn out. The
symptoms he describes are so like my own. Now, with a little
rest and relaxation, having youth on his side, he might
regain all, but I cannot help fearing for him if he dashes
at once into hardships again. He is certainly the wonder of
his age, and with a little prudence as regards his health,
the stores of information he now possesses might be turned to
a mighty account for poor wretched Africa.... We do not yet
see how Mr. L. will get on--the case seems so complex. I
feel, as I have often done, that as regards ourselves it is a
subject more for prayer than for deliberation, separated as
we are by such distances, and such a tardy and eccentric
post. I used to imagine that when he was once got out safely
from this dark continent we should only have to praise God
for all his mercies to him and to us all, and for what He had
effected by him; but now I see we must go on seeking the
guidance and direction of his providential hand, and
sustaining and preventing mercy. We cannot cease to remember
you daily, and thus our sympathy will be kept alive with
you...."
Dr. Moffatt's congratulation to his son-in-law was calm and hearty:
"Your explorations have created immense interest, and
especially in England, and that man must be made of
bend-leather who can remain unmoved at the rehearsal even of
a tithe of your daring enterprises. The honors awaiting you
at home would be enough to make a score of light heads dizzy,
but I have no fear of their affecting your upper story,
beyond showing you that your labors to lay open the recesses
of the fast interior have been appreciated. It will be almost
too much for dear Mary to hear that you are verily unscathed.
She has had many to sympathize with her, and I daresay many
have called you a very naughty man for thus having exposed
your life a thousand times. Be that as it may, you have
succeeded beyond the most sanguine expectations in laying
open a world of immortal beings, all needing the gospel, and
at a time, now that war is over, when people may exert their
exergies on an object compared with which that which has
occupied the master minds of Europe, and expended so much
money, and shed so much blood, is but a phantom."
On the 9th of December, as we have seen, Livingstone arrived at London.
He went first to Southampton, where his wife was waiting for him, and on
his return to London was quickly in communication with Sir Roderick
Murchison. On the 15th December the Royal Geographic Society held a
special meeting to welcome him. Sir Roderick was in the chair; the
attendance was numerous and distinguished, and included some of
Livingstone's previous fellow-travelers, Colonel Steele, Captain Vardon,
and Mr. Oswell. The President referred to the meeting of May, 1855, when
the Victoria or Patron's medal had been awarded to Livingstone for his
journey from the Cape to Linyanti and Loanda. Now Livingstone had added
to that feat the journey from the Atlantic Ocean at Loanda to the Indian
Ocean at Quilimane, and during his several journeys had traveled over
not less than eleven thousand miles of African ground. Surpassing the
French missionary travelers, Hue and Gabet, he had determined, by
astronomical observations, the site of numerous places, hills, rivers,
and lakes, previously unknown. He had seized every opportunity of
describing the physical structure, geology, and climatology of the
countries traversed, and making known their natural products and
capabilities. He had ascertained by experience, what had been only
conjectured previously, that the interior of Africa was a plateau
intersected by various lakes and rivers, the waters of which escaped to
the Eastern and Western oceans by deep rents in the flanking hills.
Great though these achievements were, the most honorable' of all
Livingstone's acts had yet to be mentioned--the fidelity that kept his
promise to the natives, who, having accompanied him to St. Paul de
Loanda, were reconducted by him from that city to their homes.
"Bare fortitude and virtue must our medalist have possessed,
when, having struggled at the imminent risk of his life
through such obstacles, and when, escaping from the interior,
he had been received with true kindness by our old allies,
the Portuguese at Angola, he nobly resolved to redeem his
promise and retrace his steps to the interior of the vast
continent! How much indeed must the influence of the British
name be enhanced throughout Africa, when it has been
promulgated that our missionary has thus kept his plighted
word to the poor natives who faithfully stood by him!"
On receiving the medal, Livingstone apologized for his rustiness in the
use of his native tongue; said that he had only done his duty as a
Christian missionary in opening up a part of Africa to the sympathy of
Christendom: that Steele, Vardon, or Oswell might have done all that he
had done; that as yet he was only buckling on his armor, and therefore
in no condition to speak boastfully; and that the enterprise would never
be complete till the slave-trade was abolished, and the whole country
opened up to commerce and Christianity.
Among the distinguished men who took part in the conversation that
followed was Professor Owen. He bore testimony to the value of
Livingstone's contributions to zoology and palæontology, not less
cordial than Sir Roderick Murchison had borne to his service to
geography. He had listened with very intense interest to the sketches of
these magnificent scenes of animal life that his old and most esteemed
friend had given them. He cordially hoped that many more such
contributions would follow, and expressed his admiration of the moral
qualities of the man who had taken such pains to keep his word.
In the recognition by other gentlemen of Dr. Livingstone's labors, much
stress was laid on the scientific accuracy with which he had laid down
every point over which he had traveled. Thanks were given to the
Portuguese authorities in Africa for the remarkable kindness which they
had invariably shown him. Mr. Consul Brand reported tidings from Mr.
Gabriel at Loanda, to the effect that a company of Sekelétu's people had
arrived at Loanda, with a cargo of ivory, and though they had not been
very successful in business, they had shown the practicability of the
route. He added, that Dr. Livingstone, at Loanda, had written some
letters to a newspaper, which had given such an impetus to literary
taste there, that a new journal had been started--the _Loanda Aurora_.
On one other point there was a most cordial expression of feeling,
especially by those who had themselves been in South Africa,--gratitude
for the unbounded kindness and hospitality that Dr. and Mrs. Livingstone
had shown to South African travelers in the neighborhood of their home.
Happily Mrs. Livingstone was present, and heard this acknowledgment of
her kindness.
Next day, 16th December, Dr. Livingstone had his reception from the
London Missionary Society in Freemason's Hall. Lord Shaftesbury was in
the chair:
"What better thing can we do," asked the noble Earl, "than to
welcome such a man to the shores of our country? What better
than to receive him with thanksgiving and rejoicings that he
is spared to refresh us with his presence, and give his
strength to future exertions? What season more appropriate
than this, when at every hearth, and in every congregation of
worshipers, the name of Christ will be honored with more than
ordinary devotion, to receive a man whose life and labors
have been in humble, hearty, and willing obedience to the
angels' song, 'Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace,
good-will toward men.'"
In reply, Livingstone acknowledged the kindness of the Directors, with
whom, for sixteen years, he had never had a word of difference. He
referred to the slowness of the African tribes, in explanation of the
comparatively small progress of the gospel among them. He cordially
acknowledged the great services of the British squadron on the West
Coast in the repressing of the slave-trade. He had been told that to
make such explorations as he was engaged in was only a tempting of
Providence, but such ridiculous assertions were only the utterances of
the weaker brethren.
Lord Shaftesbury's words at the close of this meeting, in honor of Mrs.
Livingstone, deserve to be perpetuated:
"That lady," he said, "was born with one distinguished name,
which she had changed for another. She was born a Moffat, and
she became a Livingstone. She cheered the early part of our
friend's earner by her spirit, her counsel, and her society.
Afterward, when she reached this country, she passed many
years with her children in solitude and anxiety, suffering
the greatest fears for the welfare of her husband, and yet
enduring all with patience and resignation, and even joy,
because she had surrendered her best feelings, and sacrificed
her own private interests, to the advancement of civilization
and the great interests of Christianity."
A more general meeting was held in the Mansion House on the 5th of
January, to consider the propriety of presenting a testimonial to Dr.
Livingstone. It was addressed by the Bishop of London, Mr. Raikes
Currie, and others.
Meanwhile, a sensible impulse was given to the _scientific_ enthusiasm
for Livingstone by the arrival of the report of a great meeting held in
Africa itself in honor of the missionary explorer. At Cape Town, on 12th
November, 1856, His Excellency the Governor, Sir George Grey, the
Colonial Secretary, the Astronomer-Royal, the Attorney-General, Mr.
Rutherfoord, the Bishop, the Rev. Mr. Thompson, and others, vied with
each other in expressing their sense of Livingstone's character and
work. The testimony of the Astronomer-Royal to Livingstone's eminence as
an astronomical observer was even more emphatic than Murchison's and
Owen's to his attainments in geography and natural history. Going over
his whole career, Mr. Maclear showed his unexampled achievements in
accurate lunar observation. "I never knew a man," he said, "who, knowing
scarcely anything of the method of making geographical observations, or
laying down positions, became so soon an adept, that he could take the
complete lunar observation, and altitudes for time, within fifteen
minutes." His observations of the course of the Zambesi, from Seshéke to
its confluence with the Lonta, were considered by the Astronomer-Royal
to be "the finest specimens of sound geographical observation he ever
met with."
"To give an idea of the laboriousness of this branch of his
work," he adds, "on an average each lunar distance consists
of five partial observations, and there are 148 sets of
distances, being 740 contacts,--and there are two altitudes
of each object before, and two after, which, together with
altitudes for time, amount to 2812 partial observations. But
that is not the whole of his observations. Some of them
intrusted to an Arab have not been received, and in reference
to those transmitted he says, 'I have taken others which I do
not think it necessary to send.' How completely all this
stamps the impress of Livingstone on the interior of South
Africa!... I say, what that man has done is unprecedented....
You could go to any point across the entire continent, along
Livingstone's track, and feel certain of your position[49]."
[Footnote 49: It seems unaccountable that in the face of such unrivaled
testimonies, reflections should continue to be cast on Livingstone's
scientific accuracy, even so late as the meeting of the British
Association at Sheffield in 1879. The family of the late Sir Thomas
Maclear have sent home his collection of Livingstone's papers. They fill
a box which one man could with difficulty carry. And their mass is far
from their most striking quality. The evidence of laborious, painstaking
care to be accurate is almost unprecedented. Folio volumes of pages
covered with figures show how much time and labor must have been spent
in these computations. Explanatory remarks often indicate the
particulars of the observation.]
Following this unrivaled eulogium on the scientific powers of
Livingstone came the testimony of Mr. Thompson to his missionary ardor:
'I am in a position to express my earnest conviction, formed
in long, intimate, unreserved communications with him,
personally and by letter, that in the privations, sufferings,
and dangers he has passed through, during the last eight
years, he has not been actuated by mere curiosity; or the
love of adventure, or the thirst for applause, or by any
other object, however laudable in itself, less than his
avowed one as a messenger of Christian love from the
Churches. If ever there was a man who, by realizing the
obligations of his sacred calling as a Christian missionary,
and intelligently comprehending its object, sought to pursue
it to a successful issue, such a man is Dr. Livingstone. The
spirit in which he engages in his work may be seen in the
following extract from one of his letters: 'You kindly say
you fear for the result of my going in alone. I hope I am in
the way of duty; my own conviction that such is the case has
never wavered. I am doing something for God. I have preached
the gospel in many a spot where the name of Christ has never
been heard, and I would wish to do still more in the way of
reducing the Barotse language, if I had not suffered so
severely from fever. Exhaustion produced vertigo, causing
me, if I looked suddenly up, almost to lose consciousness;
this made me give up sedentary work; but I hope God will
accept of what I can do.'
A third gentleman at this meeting, Mr. Rutherfoord, who had known
Livingstone for many years, besides describing him as "one of the most
honorable, benevolent, conscientious men I ever met with," bore
testimony to his capacity in mercantile affairs; not exercised 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 anxious to induce you to put together all your data, and to make
a good book," adding his own strong advice to comply with the request.
If he ever doubted the propriety of writing the book, the doubt must
have vanished, not only in view of the unequaled interest excited by the
subject, but also of the readiness of unprincipled adventurers, and even
some respectable publishers, to circulate narratives often mythical and
quite unauthorized.
The early part of the year 1857 was mainly occupied with the labor of
writing. For this he had materials in the Journals which he had kept so
carefully; but the business of selection and supplementing was
laborious, and the task of arrangement and transcription very irksome.
In fact, this task tried the patience of Livingstone more than any which
he had yet undertaken, and he used to say that he would rather cross
Africa than write another book. His experience of book-making increased
his respect for authors and authoresses a hundred-fold!
We are not, however, inclined to think that this trial was due to the
cause which Livingstone assigned,--his want of experience, and want of
command over the English tongue. He was by no means an inexperienced
writer. He had written large volumes of Journals, memoirs for the
Geographical Society, articles on African Missions, letters for the
Missionary Society, and private letters without end, each usually as
long as a pamphlet. He was master of a clear, simple, idiomatic style,
well fitted to record the incidents of a journey--sometimes poetical in
its vivid pictures, often brightening into humor, and sometimes
deepening into pathos. Viewing it page by page, the style of the
_Missionary Travels_ is admirable, the chief defect being want of
perspective; the book is more a collection of pieces than an organized
whole: a fault inevitable, perhaps, in some measure, from its nature,
but aggravated, as we believe, by the haste and pressure under which it
had to be written. In his earlier private letters, Livingstone, in his
single-hearted desire to rouse the world on the subject of Africa, used
to regret that he could not write in such a way as to command general
attention: had he been master of the flowing periods of the _Edinburgh
Review,_ he thought he could have done much more good. In point of fact,
if he had had the pen of Samuel Johnson, or the tongue of Edmund Burke,
he would not have made the impression he did. His simple style and plain
speech were eminently in harmony with his truthful, unexaggerating
nature, and showed that he neither wrote nor spoke for effect, but
simply to utter truth. What made his work of composition irksome was, on
the one hand, the fear that he was not doing it well, and on the other,
the necessity of doing it quickly. He had always a dread that his
English was not up to the critical mark, and yet he was obliged to hurry
on, and leave the English as it dropped from his pen. He had no time to
plan, to shape, to organize; the architectural talent could not be
brought into play. Add to this that he had been so accustomed to
open-air life and physical exercise, that the close air and sedentary
attitude of the study must have been exceedingly irksome; so that it is
hardly less wonderful that his health stood the confinement of
book-making in England, than that it survived the tear and wear, labor
and sorrow, of all his journeys in Africa.
An extract from a letter to Mr. Maclear, on the eve of his beginning his
book (21st January, 1857), will show how his thoughts were running:
"I begin to-morrow to write my book, and as I have a large
party of men (110) waiting for me at Tette, and I promised to
join them in April next, you will see I shall have enough to
do to get over my work here before the end of the month....
Many thanks for all the kind things you said at the Cape Town
meeting. Here they laud me till I shut my eyes, for only
trying to do my duty. They ought to vote thanks to the Boers
who set me free to discover the fine new country. They were
determined to shut the country, and I was determined to open
it. They boasted to the Portuguese that they had expelled two
missionaries, and outwitted themselves rather. I got the gold
medal, as you predicted, and the freedom of the town of
Hamilton, which insures me protection from the payment of
jail fees if put in prison!"
In writing his book, he sometimes worked in the house of a friend, but
generally in a London or suburban lodging, often with his children about
him, and all their noise; for, as in the Blantyre mill, he could
abstract his attention from sounds of whatever kind, and go on calmly
with his work. Busy though he was, this must have been one of the
happiest times in his life. Some of his children still remember his
walks and romps with them in the Barnet woods, near which they lived
part of the time--how he would suddenly plunge into the ferny thicket,
and set them looking for him, as people looked for him afterward when he
disappeared in Africa, coming out all at once at some unexpected corner
of the thicket. One of his greatest troubles was the penny post. People
used to ask him the most frivolous questions. At first he struggled to
answer them, but in a few weeks he had to give this up in despair. The
simplicity of his heart is seen in the childlike joy with which he
welcomes the early products of the spring. He writes to Mr. Maclear
that, one day at Professor Owen's, they had "seen daisies, primroses,
hawthorns, and robin-redbreasts. Does not Mrs. Maclear envy us? It was
so pleasant."
But a better idea of his mode of life at home will be conveyed by the
notes of some of the friends with whom he stayed. For that purpose, we
resume the recollections of Dr. Risdon Bennett:
"On returning to England, after his first great journey of
discovery, he and Mrs. Livingstone stayed in my house for
some time, and I had frequent conversations with him on
subjects connected with his African life, especially on such
as related to natural history and medicine, on which he had
gathered a fund of information. His observation of malarious
diseases, and the methods of treatment adopted by both the
natives and Europeans, had led him to form very definite and
decided views, especially in reference to the use of
purgatives, preliminary to, and in conjunction with, quinine
and other acknowledged febrifuge medicines. He had, while
staying with me, one of those febrile attacks to which
persons who have once suffered from malarious disease are so
liable, and I could not fail to remark his sensible
observations thereon, and his judicious management of his
sickness. He had a great natural predilection for medical
science, and always took great interest in all that related
to the profession. I endeavored to persuade him to commit to
writing the results of his medical observations and
experience among the natives of Africa, but he was too much
occupied with the preparation of his Journal for the press to
enable him to do this. Moreover, as he often said, writing
was a great drudgery to him. He, however, attended with me
the meetings of some of the medical societies, and gave some
verbal accounts of his medical experience which greatly
interested his audience. His remarks on climates, food, and
customs of the natives, in reference to the origin and spread
of disease, evinced the same acuteness of observation which
characterized all the records of his life. He specially
commented on the absence of consumption and all forms of
tubercular disease among the natives, and connected this with
their constant exposure and out-of-door life.
"After leaving my house he had lodgings in Chelsea, and used
frequently to come and spend the Sunday afternoon with my
family, often bringing his sister, who was staying with him,
and his two elder children. It was beautiful to observe how
thoroughly he enjoyed domestic life and the society of
children, how strong was his attachment to his own family
after his long and frequent separations from them, and how
entirely he had retained his simplicity of character.
"Like so many of his countrymen, he had a keen sense of
humor, which frequently came into play when relating his many
adventures and hardships. On the latter he never dilated in
the way of complaint, and he had little sympathy with, or
respect for, those travelers who did so. Nor was he apt to
say much on direct religious topics, or on the results of his
missionary efforts as a Christian teacher. He had unbounded
confidence in the influence of Christian character and
principles, and gave many illustrations of the effect
produced on the minds and conduct of the benighted and savage
tribes with whom he was brought into contact by his own
unvarying uprightness of conduct and self-denying labor. The
fatherly character of God, his never-failing goodness and
mercy, and the infinite love of the Lord Jesus Christ, and
efficacy of his atoning sacrifice, appeared to be the topics
on which he loved chiefly to dwell. The all-pervading deadly
evils of slavery, and the atrocities of the slave-trade,
never failed to excite his righteous indignation. If ever he
was betrayed into unmeasured language, it was when referring
to these topics, or when speaking of the injurious influence
exerted on the native mind by the cruel and unprincipled
conduct of wicked and selfish traders. His love for Africa,
and confidence in the steady dawn of brighter days for its
oppressed races, were unbounded."
From a member of another family, that of Mr. Frederick Fitch, of
Highbury New Park, with whom also the Livingstones spent part of their
time, we have some homely but graphic reminiscences:
"Dr. Livingstone was very simple and unpretending, and used
to be annoyed when he was made a lion of. Once a well-known
gentleman, who was advertised to deliver a lecture next day,
called on him to pump him for material. The Doctor sat rather
quiet, and, without being rude, treated the gentleman to
monosyllabic answers. He could do that--could keep people at
a distance when they wanted to make capital out of him. When
the stranger had left, turning to my mother, he would say,
'I'll tell _you_ anything you like to ask.'
"He never liked to walk in the streets for fear of being
mobbed. Once he was mobbed in Regent street, and did not know
how he was to escape, till he saw a cab, and took refuge in
it. For the same reason it was painful for him to go to
church. Once, being anxious to go with us, my father
persuaded him that, as the seat at the top of our pew was
under the gallery, he would not be seen. As soon as he
entered, he held down his head, and kept it covered with his
hands all the time, but the preacher somehow caught sight of
him, and rather unwisely, in his last prayer, adverted to
him. This gave the people the knowledge that he was in the
chapel, and after the service they came trooping toward him,
even over the pews, in their anxiety to see him and shake
hands[50].
[Footnote 50: A similar occurrence took place in a church at
Bath during the meetings of the British Association in 1864]
"Dr. Livingstone usually conducted our family worship. On
Sunday morning he always gave us a text for the day. His
prayers were very direct and simple, just like a child asking
his Father for what he needed.
"He was always careful as to dress and appearance. This was
his habit in Africa, too, and with Mrs. Livingstone it was
the same. They thought that this was fitted to secure respect
for themselves, and that it was for the good of the natives
too, as it was so difficult to impress them with proper ideas
on the subject of dress.
"Dr. and Mrs. Livingstone were much attached, and thoroughly
understood each other. The doctor was sportive and fond of a
joke, and Mrs. Livingstone entered into his humor. Mrs.
Livingstone was terribly anxious about her husband when he
was in Africa, but before others she concealed her emotion.
In society both were reserved and quiet. Neither of them
cared for grandeur; it was a great trial to Dr. Livingstone
to go to a grand dinner. Yet in his quiet way he would
exercise an influence at the dinner-table. He told us that
once at a dinner at Lord ----'s, every one was running down
London tradesmen. Dr. Livingstone quietly remarked that
though he was a stranger in London, he knew one tradesman of
whose honesty he was thoroughly assured; and if there was one
such in his little circle, surely there must be many more.
"He used to rise early: about seven he had a cup of tea or
coffee, and then he set to work with his Writing. He had not
the appearance of a very strong man."
In spite of his literary work, the stream of public honors and public
engagements began to flow very strongly. The Prince Consort granted him
an interview, soon after his arrival, in presence of some of the younger
members of the Royal Family. In March it was agreed to present him with
the freedom of the City of London, in a box of the value of fifty
guineas, and in May the presentation took place. Most of his public
honors, however, were reserved till the autumn.
The _Missionary Travels_ was published in November, 1857, and the
success of the book was quite remarkable. Writing to Mr. Maclear, 10th
November, 1857, he says, after an apology for delay:
"You must ascribe my culpable silence to 'aberration.' I am
out of my orbit, rather, and you must have patience till I
come in again. The book is out to-day, and I am going to
Captain Washington to see about copies to yourself, the
Governor, the Bishop, Fairbairn, Thompson, Rutherfoord, and
Saul Solomon[51]. Ten thousand were taken by the London trade
alone. Thirteen thousand eight hundred have been ordered from
an edition of twelve thousand, so the printers are again at
work to supply the demand. Sir Roderick gave it a glowing
character last night at the Royal Geographical Society, and
the _Athenæum_ has come out strongly on the same side. This
is considered a successful launch for a guinea book."
[Footnote 51: Livingstone was quite lavish with presentation copies;
every friend on earth seemed to be included in his list. He tried to
remember every one who had shown kindness to himself and particularly to
his wife and children.]
It has sometimes been a complaint that so much of the book is occupied
with matters of science, geographical inquiries, descriptions of plants
and animals, accounts of rivers and mountains, and so little with what
directly concerns the work of the missionary. In reply to this, it may
be stated, in the first place, that if the information given and the
views expressed on missionary topics were all put together, they would
constitute no insignificant contribution to missionary literature. But
there was another consideration. Livingstone regarded himself as but a
pioneer in missionary enterprise. During sixteen years he had done much
to bring the knowledge of Christ to tribes that had never heard of
Him--probably no missionary in Africa had ever preached to so many
blacks. In some instances he had been successful in the highest
sense--he had been the instrument of turning men from darkness to light;
but he did not think it right to dwell on these cases, because the
converts were often inconsistent, and did not exemplify a high moral
tone. In most cases, however, he had been a sower of seed, and not a
reaper of harvests. He had no triumphs to record, like those which had
gladdened the hearts of some of his missionary brethren in the South Sea
Islands. He wished his book to be a record of facts, not a mere register
of hopes. The missionary work was yet to be done. It belonged to the
future, not to the past. By showing what vast fields there were in
Africa ripe for the harvest, he sought to stimulate the Christian
enterprise of the Churches, and lead them to take possession of Africa
for Christ. He would diligently record facts which he had ascertained
about Africa, facts that he saw had some bearing on its future welfare,
but whose full significance in that connection no one might yet be able
to perceive. In a sense, the book was a work of faith. He wished to
interest men of science, men of commerce, men of philanthropy, ministers
of the Crown, men of all sorts, in the welfare of Africa. Where he had
so varied a constituency to deal with, and where the precise method by
which Africa would be civilized was yet so indefinite, he would
faithfully record what he had come to know, and let others build as they
might with his materials. Certainly, in all that Livingstone has
written, he has left us in no doubt as to the consummation to which he
ever looked. His whole writings and his whole life are a commentary on
his own words--"The end of the geographical feat is only the beginning
of the enterprise."
Through the great success of the volume and the handsome conduct of the
publishers, the book yielded him a little fortune. We shall see what
generous use he made of it--how large a portion of the profits went to
forward directly the great object to which his heart and his life were
so cordially given. More than half went to a single object connected
with the Zambesi Expedition, and of the remainder he was ready to devote
a half to another favorite project. All that he thought it his duty to
reserve for his children was enough to educate them, and prepare them
for their part in life. Nothing would have seemed less desirable or less
for their good than to found a rich family to live in idleness. It was
and is a common impression that Livingstone received large sums from
friends to aid him in his work. For the most part these impressions were
unfounded; but his own hard-earned money was bestowed freely and
cheerfully wherever it seemed likely to do good.
The complaint that he was not sufficiently a missionary was sometimes
made of his speeches as well as his book. At Carlisle, a lady wrote to
him in this strain. A copy of his reply is before us. After explaining
that reporters were more ready to report his geography than his
missionary views, he says:
"Nowhere have I ever appeared as anything else but a servant
of God, who has simply followed the leadings of his hand. My
views of what is _missionary_ duty are not so contracted as
those whose ideal is a dumpy sort of man with a Bible under
his arm. I have labored in bricks and mortar, at the forge
and carpenter's bench, as well as in preaching and medical
practice. I feel that I am 'not my own.' I am serving Christ
when shooting a buffalo for my men, or taking an astronomical
observation, or writing to one of his children who forget,
during the little moment of penning a note, that charity
which is eulogized as 'thinking no evil'; and after having by
his help got information, which I hope will lead to more
abundant blessing being bestowed on Africa than heretofore,
am I to hide the light under a bushel, merely because some
will consider it not sufficiently, or even at all,
_missionary_? Knowing that some persons do believe that
opening up a new country to the sympathies of Christendom was
not a proper work for an agent of a missionary society to
engage in, I now refrain from taking any salary from the
Society with which I was connected; so no pecuniary loss is
sustained by any one."
Subsequently, when detained in Manyuema, and when his immediate object
was to determine the water-shed, Dr. Livingstone wrote: "I never felt a
single pang at having left the Missionary Society. I acted for my
Master, and believe that all ought to devote their special faculties to
Him. I regretted that unconscientious men took occasion to prevent many
from sympathizing with me."