# The Personal Life of David Livingstone/CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER IX.
FROM LOANDA TO QUILIMANE.
A.D. 1854-1856.
Livingstone sets out from Loanda--Journey back--Effects of slavery--Letter to his wife--Severe attack of fever--He reaches the Barotse country--Day of thanksgiving--His efforts for the good of his men--Anxieties of the Moffats--Mr. Moffat's journey to Mosilikatse--Box at Linyanti--Letter from Mrs. Moffat--Letters to Mrs. Livingstone, Mr. Moffat, and Mrs. Moffat--Kindness of Sekelétu--New escort--He sets out for the East Coast--Discovers the Victoria Falls--The healthy longitudinal ridges--Pedestrianism--Great dangers--Narrow escapes--Triumph of the spirit of trust in God--Favorite texts--Reference to Captain Maclure's experience--Chief subjects of thought--Structure of the continent--Sir Roderick Murchison anticipates his discovery--Letters to Geographical Society--First letter from Sir Roderick Murchison--Missionary labor--Monasteries--Protestant mission-stations wanting in self-support--Letter to Directors--Fever not so serious an obstruction as it seemed--His own hardships--Theories of mission-work--Expansion _v_. Concentration--Views of a missionary statesman--He reaches Tette--Letter to King of Portugal--To Sir Roderick Murchison--Reaches Senna--Quilimane--Retrospect--Letter from Directors--Goes to Mauritius--Voyage home--Narrow escape from shipwreck in Bay of Tunis--He reaches England, Dec., 1856--News of his father's death.
Dr. Livingstone left St. Paul de Loanda on 24th September, 1854, arrived at his old quarters at Linyanti on 11th September, 1855, set out eastward on 3d November, 1855, and reached Quilimane on the eastern coast on 20th May, 1856. His journey thus occupied a year and eight months, and the whole time from his leaving the Cape on 8th June, 1852, was within a few days of four years. The return journey from Loanda to Linyanti took longer than the journey outward. This arose from detention of various kinds[41]: the sicknesses of Livingstone and his men, the heavy rains, and in one case, at Pungo Andongo, the necessity of reproducing a large packet of letters, journals, maps, and despatches, which he had sent off from Loanda. These were despatched by the mail-packet "Forerunner," which unhappily went down off Madeira, all the passengers but one being lost. But for his promise to the Makololo to return with them to their country, Dr. Livingstone would have been himself a passenger in the ship. Hearing of the disaster while paying a visit to a very kind and hospitable Portuguese gentleman at Pungo Andongo, on his way back, Livingstone remained there some time to reproduce his lost papers. The labor thus entailed must have been very great, for his ordinary letters covered sheets almost as large as a newspaper, and his maps and despatches were produced with extraordinary care.
[Footnote 41: Dr. Livingstone observed that traders generally traveled ten days in the month, and rested twenty, making seven geographical miles a day, or seventy per month. In his case in this journey the proportion was generally reversed--twenty days of traveling and ten of rest, and his rate per day was about ten geographical miles, or two hundred per month. As he often zigzagged, the geographical mile represented considerably, more. See letter to Royal Geographical Society, October 16, 1855.]
He found renewed occasion to acknowledge in the warmest terms the kindness he received from the Portuguese; and his prayers that God would reward and bless them were not the less sincere that in many important matters he could not approve of their ways.
In traversing the road backward along which he had already come, not many things happened that demand special notice in this brief sketch. We find him both in his published book and still more in his private Journal repeating his admiration of the country and its glorious scenery. This revelation of the marvelous beauty of a country hitherto deemed a sandy desert was one of the most astounding effects of Livingstone's travels on the public mind. But the more he sees of the people the more profound does their degradation appear, although the many instances of remarkable kindness to himself, and occasional cases of genuine feeling one toward another, convinced him that there was a something in them not quite barbarised. On one point he was very clear--the Portuguese settlements among them had not improved them. Not that he undervalued the influences which the Portuguese had brought to bear on them; he had a much more favorable opinion of the Jesuit missions than Protestants have usually allowed themselves to entertain, and felt both kindly and respectfully toward the padres, who in the earlier days of these settlements had done, he believed, a useful work. But the great bane of the Portuguese settlements was slavery. Slavery prevented a good example, it hindered justice, it kept down improvement. If a settler took a fancy to a good-looking girl, he had only to buy her, and make her his concubine. Instead of correcting the polygamous habits of the chiefs and others, the Portuguese adopted like habits themselves. In one thing indeed they were far superior to the Boers--in their treatment of the children born to them by native mothers. But the whole system of slavery gendered a blight which nothing could counteract; to make Africa a prosperous land, liberty must be proclaimed to the captive, and the slave system, with all its accursed surroundings, brought conclusively to an end. Writing to Mrs. Livingstone from Bashinge, 20th March, 1855, he gives, some painful particulars of the slave-trade. Referring to a slave-agent with whom he had been, he says:
It was soon after the date of this letter that Livingstone was struck down by that severe attack of rheumatic fever, accompanied by great loss of blood, to which reference has already been made. "I got it," he writes to Mr. Maclear, "by sleeping in the wet. There was no help for it. Every part of a plain was flooded ankle-deep. We got soaked by going on, and sodden if we stood still." In his former journey he had been very desirous to visit Matiamvo, paramount chief of the native tribes of Londa, whose friendship would have helped him greatly in his journey; but at that time he found himself too poor to attempt the enterprise. The loss of time and consumption of goods caused by his illness on the way back prevented him from accomplishing his purpose now.
Not only was the party now better armed than before, but the good name of Livingstone had also become better known along the line, and during his return journey he did not encounter so much opposition. We cannot fail to be struck with his extraordinary care for his men. It was his earnest desire to bring them all back to their homes, and in point of fact the whole twenty-seven returned in good health. How carefully he must have nursed them in their attacks of fever, and kept them from unnecessary exposure, it is hardly possible for strangers adequately to understand.
On reaching the country of the Barotse, the home of most of them, a day of thanksgiving was observed (23d July, 1855). The men had made little fortunes in Loanda, earning sixpence a day for weeks together by helping to discharge a cargo of coals or, as they called them, "stones that burned." But, like Livingstone, they had to part with everything on the way home, and now they were in rags; yet they were quite as cheerful and as fond of their leader as ever, and felt that they had not traveled in vain. They quite understood the benefit the new route would bring in the shape of higher prices for tusks and the other merchandise of home. On the thanksgiving day--
Several of the poor fellows on reaching home found domestic trouble--a wife had proved inconstant and married another man. As the men had generally more wives than one, Livingstone comforted them by saying that they still had as many as he.
Amid the anxieties and sicknesses of the journey, and multiplied subjects of thought and inquiry, Livingstone was as earnest as ever for the spiritual benefit of the people. Some extracts from his Journal will illustrate his efforts in this cause, and the flickerings of hope that would spring out of them, dimmed, however, by many fears:
The long absence of Livingstone and the want of letters had caused great anxiety to his friends. The Moffats had been particularly concerned about him, and, in 1854, partly in the hope of hearing of him, Mr. Moffat undertook a visit to Mosilikatse, while a box of goods and comforts was sent to Linyanti to await his return, should that ever take place. A letter from Mrs. Moffat accompanied the box. It is amusing to read her motherly explanations about the white shirts, and the blue waistcoat, the woolen socks, lemon juice, quince jam, and tea and coffee, some of which had come all the way from Hamilton; but there are passages in that little note that make one's heart go with rapid beat:
[Footnote 42: Rev. John Smith, missionary at Madras, had gone to Vizagapatam to the ordination of two native pastors, and when returning in a small vessel, a storm arose, when he and all on board perished.]
In writing from Linyanti to his wife, Livingstone makes the best he can of his long detention. She seems to have put the matter playfully, wondering what the "source of attraction" had been. He says:
To his father-in-law he expresses his warm gratitude for the stores. It was feared by the natives that the goods were bewitched, so they were placed on an island, a hut was built over them, and there Livingstone found them on his arrival, a year after! A letter of twelve quarto pages to Mr. Moffat gives his impressions of his journey, while another of sixteen pages to Mrs. Moffat explains his "plans," about which she had asked more full information. He quiets her fears by his favorite texts for the present--"Commit thy way to the Lord," and "Lo, I am with you alway"; and his favorite vision of the future--the earth full of the knowledge of the Lord. He is somewhat cutting at the expense of so-called "missionaries to the heathen, who never march into real heathen territory, and quiet their consciences by opposing their do-nothingism to my blundering do-somethingism!" He is indignant at the charge made by some of his enemies that no good was done among the Bakwains. They were, in many respects, a different people from before. Any one who should be among the Makololo as he had been, would be thankful for the state of the Bakwains. The seed would always bear fruit, but the husbandman had need of great patience, and the end was sure.
Sekelétu had not been behaving well in Livingstone's absence. He had been conducting marauding parties against his neighbors, which even Livingstone's men, when they heard of it, pronounced to be "bad, bad." Livingstone was obliged to reprove him. A new uniform had been sent to the chief from Loanda, with which he appeared at church, "attracting more attention than the sermon." He continued, however, to 'show the same friendship for Livingstone, and did all he could for him when he set out eastward. A new escort of men was provided, above a hundred and twenty strong, with ten slaughter cattle, and three of his best riding oxen; stores of food were given, and a right to levy tribute over the tribes that were subject to Sekelétu as he passed through their borders. If Livingstone had performed these journeys with some long-pursed society or individual at his back, his feat even then would have been wonderful; but it becomes quite amazing when we think that he went without stores, and owed everything to the influence he acquired with men like Sekelétu and the natives generally. His heart was much touched on one occasion by the disinterested kindness of Sekelétu. Having lost their way on a dark night in the forest, in a storm of rain and lightning, and the luggage having been carried on, they had to pass the night under a tree. The chief's blanket had not been carried on, and Sekelétu placed Livingstone under it, and lay down himself on the wet ground. "If such men must perish before the white by an immutable law of heaven," he wrote to the Geographical Society (25th January, 1856), "we must seem to be under the same sort of terrible necessity in our Caffre wars as the American Professor of Chemistry said he was under, when he dismembered the man whom he had murdered."
Again Livingstone sets out on his weary way, untrodden by white man's foot, to pass through unknown tribes, whose savage temper might give him his quietus at any turn of the road. There were various routes to the sea open to him. He chose the route along the Zambesi--though the the most difficult, and through hostile tribes--because it seemed the most likely to answer his desire to find a commercial highway to the coast. Not far to the east of Linyanti, he beheld for the first time those wonderful falls of which he had only heard before, giving an English name to them,--the first he had ever given in all his African journeys,--the Victoria Falls. We have seen how genuine his respect was for his Sovereign, and it was doubtless a real though quiet pleasure to connect her name with the grandest natural phenomenon in Africa, This is one of the discoveries[43] that have taken most hold on the popular imagination, for the Victoria Falls are like a second Niagara, but grander and more astonishing; but except as illustrating his views of the structure of Africa, and the distribution of its waters, it had not much influence, and led to no very remarkable results. Right across the channel of the river was a deep fissure only eighty feet wide, into which the whole volume of the river, a thousand yards broad, tumbled to the depth of a hundred feet[44], the fissure being continued in zigzag form for thirty miles, so that the stream had to change its course from right to left and left to right, and went through the hills boiling and roaring, sending up columns of steam, formed by the compression of the water falling into its narrow wedge-shaped receptacle.
[Footnote 43: Virtually a discovery, though marked in an old map.]
[Footnote 44: Afterward ascertained by him to be 1800 yards and 820 feet respectively.]
A discovery as to the structure of the country, long believed in by him, but now fully verified, was of much more practical importance. It had been ascertained by him that skirting the central hollow there were two longitudinal ridges extremely favorable for settlements, both for missions and merchandise. We shall hear much of this soon.
Slowly but steadily the eastward tramp is continued, often over ground which was far from favorable for walking exercise. "Pedestrianism," said Livingstone, "may be all very well for those whose obesity requires much exercise; but for one who was becoming as thin as a lath through the constant perspiration caused by marching day after day in the hot sun, the only good I saw in it was that it gave an honest sort of a man a vivid idea of the tread-mill."
When Livingstone came to England, and was writing books, his tendency was rather to get stout than thin; and the disgust with which he spoke then of the "beastly fat" seemed to show that if for nothing else than to get rid of it he would have been glad to be on the tread-mill again. In one of his letters to Mr. Maclear he thus speaks of a part of this journey: "It was not likely that I should know our course well, for the country there is covered with shingle and gravel, bushes, trees, and grass, and we were without path. Skulking out of the way of villages where we were expected to pay after the purse was empty, it was excessively hot and steamy; the eyes had to be always fixed on the ground to avoid being tripped."
In the course of this journey he had even more exciting escapades among hostile tribes than those which he had encountered on the way to Loanda. His serious anxieties began when he passed beyond the tribes that owned the sovereignty of Sekelétu. At the union of the rivers Loangwa and Zambesi, the suspicious feeling regarding him reached a climax, and he could only avoid the threatened doom of the Bazimka (_i.e._ Bastard Portuguese) who had formerly incurred the wrath of the chief, by showing his bosom, arms, and hair, and asking if the Bazimka were like that. Livingstone felt that there was danger in the air. In fact, he never seemed in more imminent peril:
Nine days later they were again threatened by Mpende:
In the entire records of Christian heroism, there are few more remarkable occasions of the triumph of the spirit of holy trust than those which are recorded here so quietly and modestly. We are carried back to the days of the Psalmist: "I will not be afraid of ten thousand of the people that have set themselves against me round about." In the case of David Livingstone as of the other David, the triumph of confidence was not the less wonderful that it was preceded by no small inward tumult. Both were human creatures. But in both the flutter lasted only till the soul had time to rally its trust--to think of God as a living friend, sure to help in time of need. And how real is the sense of God's presence! The mention of the two longitudinal ridges, and of the refusal of the people to give more than two canoes, side by side with the most solemn appeals, would have been incongruous, or even irreverent, if Livingstone had not felt that he was dealing with the living God, by whom every step of his own career and every movement of his enemies were absolutely controlled.
A single text often gave him all the help he needed:
His being enabled to reach the sanctuary of perfect peace in the presence of his enemies was all the more striking if we consider--what he felt keenly--that to live among the heathen is in itself very far from favorable to the vigor or the prosperity of the spiritual life. "Traveling from day to day among barbarians," he says in his Journal, "exerts a most benumbing effect on the religious feelings of the soul."
Among the subjects that occupied a large share of his thoughts in these long and laborious journeys, two appear to have been especially prominent: first, the configuration of the country; and second, the best way of conducting missions, and bringing the people of Africa to Christ.
The configuration of intertropical South Africa had long been with him a subject of earnest study, and now he had come clearly to the conclusion that the middle part was a table-land, depressed, however, in the centre, and flanked by longitudinal ridges on the east and west; that originally the depressed centre had contained a vast accumulation of water, which had found ways of escape through fissures in the encircling fringe of mountains, the result of volcanic action or of earthquakes. The Victoria Falls presented the most remarkable of these fissures, and thus served to verify and complete his theory. The great lakes in the great heart of South Africa were the remains of the earlier accumulation before the fissures were formed. Lake 'Ngami, large though it was, was but a little fraction of the vast lake that had once spread itself over the south. This view of the structure of South Africa he now found, from a communication which reached him at Linyanti, had been anticipated by Sir Roderick Murchison, who in 1852 had propounded it to the Geographical Society. Livingstone was only amused at thus losing the credit of his discovery; he contented himself with a playful remark on his being "cut out" by Sir Roderick. But the coincidence of views was very remarkable, and it lay at the foundation of that brotherlike intimacy and friendship which ever marked his relation with Murchison. One important bearing of the geographical fact was this; it was evident that while the low districts were unhealthy, the longitudinal ridges by which they were fringed were salubrious. Another of its bearings was, that it would help them to find the course and perhaps the sources of the great rivers, and thus facilitate commercial and missionary operations. The discovery of the two healthy ridges, which made him so unwilling to die at the mouth of the Loangwa, gave him new hopes for missions and commerce.
These and other matters connected with the state of the country formed the subject of regular communications to the Geographical Society. Between Loanda and Quilimane, six despatches were written at different points[45]. Formerly, as we have seen, he had written through a Fellow of the Society, his friend and former fellow-traveler, Captain, now Colonel Steele; but as the Colonel had been called on duty to the Crimea, he now addressed his letters to his countryman, Sir Roderick Murchison. Sir Roderick was charmed with the compliment, and was not slow to turn it to account, as appears from the following letter, the first of very many communications which he addressed to Livingstone:
[Footnote 45: The dates were Pungo Andongo, 24th December, 1864; Cabango, 17th May, 1855; Linyanti, October 16, 1855; Chanyuni, 25th January, 1856; Tette, 4th March, 1856; Quilimane, 23d May, 1856.]
The other subject that chiefly occupied Livingstone's mind at this time was missionary labor. This, like all other labor, required to be organized, on the principle of making the very best use of all the force that was or could be contributed for missionary effort. With his fair, open mind, he weighed the old method of monastic establishments, and, _mutatis mutandis_, he thought something of the kind might be very useful. He thought it unfair to judge of what these monasteries were in their periods of youth and vigor, from the rottenness of their decay. Modern missionary stations, indeed, with their churches, schools, and hospitals, were like Protestant monasteries, conducted on the more wholesome principle of family life; but they wanted stability; they had not farms like monasteries, and hence they required to depend on the mother country. From infancy to decay they were pauper institutions. In Livingstone's judgment they needed to have more of the self-supporting element:
Dr. Livingstone acknowledged the services of the Jesuit missionaries in the cause of education and literature, and even of commerce. But while conceding to them this meed of praise, he did not praise their worship. He was slow, indeed, to disparage any form of worship--any form in which men, however unenlightened, gave expression to their religious feelings; but he could not away with the sight of men of intelligence kissing the toe of an image of the Virgin, as he saw them doing in a Portuguese church, and taking part in services in which they did not, and could not, believe. If the missions of the Church of Rome had left good effects on some parts of Africa, how much greater blessing might not come from Protestant missions, with the Bible instead of the Syllabus as their basis, and animated with the spirit of freedom instead of despotism!
With regard to that part of Africa which he had been exploring, he gives his views at great length in a letter to the Directors, dated Linyanti, 12th October, 1855. After fully describing the physical features of the country, he fastens on the one element which, more than any other, was likely to hinder missions--fever. He does not deny that it is a serious obstacle. But he argues at great length that it is not insurmountable. Fever yields to proper treatment. His own experience was no rule to indicate what might be reckoned on by others. His journeys had been made under the worst possible conditions. Bad food, poor nursing, insufficient medicines, continual drenchings, exhausting heat and toil, and wearing anxiety had caused much of his illness. He gives a touching detail of the hardships incident to his peculiar case, from which other missionaries would be exempted, but with characteristic manliness he charges the Directors not to publish that part of his letter, lest he should appear to be making too much of his trials. "Sacrifices" he could never call them, because nothing could be worthy of that name in the service of Him who, though he was rich, for our sakes became poor. Two or three times every day he had been wet up to the waist in crossing streams and marshy ground. The rain was so drenching that he had often to put his watch under his arm-pit to keep it dry. His good ox Sindbad would never let him hold an umbrella. His bed was on grass, with only a horse-cloth between. His food often consisted of bird-seed, manioc-roots, and meal. No wonder if he suffered much. Others would not have all that to bear. Moreover, if the fever of the district was severe, it was almost the only disease. Consumption, scrofula, madness, cholera, cancer, delirium tremens, and certain contagious diseases of which much was heard in civilized countries, were hardly known. The beauty of some parts of the country could not be surpassed. Much of it was densely peopled, but in other parts the population was scattered. Many of the tribes were friendly, and, for reasons of their own, would welcome missionaries. The Makololo, for example, furnished an inviting field. The dangers he had encountered arose from the irritating treatment the tribes had received from half-cast traders and slave-dealers, in consequence of which they had imposed certain taxes on travelers, which, sometimes, he and his brother-chartists had refused to pay. They were mistaken for slave-dealers. But character was a powerful educator. A body of missionaries, maintaining everywhere the character of honest, truthful, kind-hearted Christian gentlemen, would scatter such prejudices to the winds.
In instituting a comparison between the direct and indirect results of missions, between conversion-work and the diffusion of better principles, he emphatically assigns the preference to the latter. Not that he undervalued the conversion of the most abject creature that breathed. To the man individually his conversion was of over whelming consequence, but with relation to the final harvest, it was more important to sow the seed broadcast over a wide field than to reap a few heads of grain on a single spot. Concentration was not the true principle of missions. The Society itself had felt this, in sending Morrison and Milne to be lost among the three hundred millions of China; and the Church of England, in looking to the Antipodes, to Patagonia, to East Africa, with the full knowledge that charity began at home. Time was more essential than concentration. Ultimately there would be more conversions, if only the seed were now more widely spread.
He concludes by pointing out the difference between mere worldly enterprises and missionary undertakings for the good of the world. The world thought their mission schemes fanatical; the friends of missions, on the other hand, could welcome the commercial enterprises of the world as fitted to be useful. The Africans were all deeply imbued with the spirit of trade. Commerce was so far good that it taught the people their mutual dependence; but Christianity alone reached the centre of African wants. "Theoretically," he concludes, "I would pronounce the country about the junction of the Leeba and Leeambye or Kabompo, and river of the Bashukulompo, as a most desirable centre-point for the spread of civilization and Christianity; but unfortunately I must mar my report by saying I feel a difficulty as to taking my children there without their intelligent self-dedication. I can speak for my wife and myself only. WE WILL GO, WHOEVER REMAINS BEHIND."
Resuming the subject some months later, after he had got to the sea-shore, he dwells on the belt of elevated land eastward from the country of the Makololo, two degrees of longitude broad, and of unknown length, as remarkably suitable for the residence of European missionaries. It was formerly occupied by the Makololo, and they had a great desire to resume the occupation. One great advantage of such a locality was that it was on the border of the regions occupied by the true negroes, the real nucleus of the African population, to whom they owed a great debt, and who had shown themselves friendly and disposed to learn. It was his earnest hope that the Directors would plant a mission here, and his belief that they would thereby confer unlimited blessing on the regions beyond.
Some of the remarks in these passages, and also in the extracts which we have given from his Journals, are of profound interest, as indicating air important transition from the ideas of a mere missionary laborer to those of a missionary general or statesman. In the early part of his life he deemed it his joy and his honor to aim at the conversion of individual souls, and earnestly did he labor and pray for that, although his visible success was but small. But as he gets better acquainted with Africa, and reaches a more commanding point of view, he sees the necessity for other work. The continent must be surveyed, healthy localities for mission-stations must be found, the temptations to a cursed traffic in human flesh must be removed, the products of the country must be turned to account; its whole social economy must be changed. "The accomplishment of such objects, even in a limited degree, would be an immense service to the missionary; it would be such a preparing of his way that a hundred years hence the spiritual results would be far greater than if all the effort now were concentrated on single souls. To many persons it appeared as if dealing with individual souls were the only proper work of a missionary, and as if one who had been doing such work would be lowering himself if he accepted any other. Livingstone never stopped to reason as to which was the higher or the more desirable work; he felt that Providence was calling him to be less of a missionary journeyman and more of a missionary statesman; but the great end was ever the same--
Livingstone reached the Portuguese settlement of Tette on the 3d March, 1856, and the "civilized breakfast" which the commandant, Major Sicard, sent forward to him, on his way, was a luxury like Mr. Gabriel's bed at Loanda, and made him walk the last eight miles without the least sensation of fatigue, although the road was so rough that, as a Portuguese soldier remarked, it was like "to tear a man's life out of him." At Loanda he had heard of the battle of the Alma; after being in Tette a short time he heard of the fall of Sebastopol and the end of the Crimean War. He remained in Tette till the 23d April, detained by an attack of fever, receiving extraordinary kindness from the Governor, and, among other tokens of affection, a gold chain for his daughter Agnes, the work of an inhabitant of the town. These gifts were duly acknowledged. It was at this place that Dr. Livingstone left his Makololo followers, with instructions to wait for him till he should return from England. Well entitled though he was to a long rest, he deliberately gave up the possibility of it, by engaging to return for his black companions.
In the case of Dr. Livingstone, rest meant merely change of employment, and while resting and recovering from fever, he wrote a large budget of long and interesting letters. One of these was addressed to the King of Portugal: it affords clear evidence that, however much Livingstone felt called to reprobate the deeds of some of his subordinates, he had a respectful feeling for the King himself, a grateful sense of the kindness received from his African subjects, and an honest desire to aid the wholesome development of the Portuguese colonies. It refutes, by anticipation, calumnies afterward circulated to the effect that Livingstone's real design was to wrest the Portuguese settlements in Africa from Portugal, and to annex them to the British Crown. He refers most gratefully to the great kindness and substantial aid he had received from His Majesty's subjects, and is emboldened thereby to address him on behalf of Africa. He suggests certain agricultural products--especially wheat and a species of wax--that might be cultivated with enormous profit. A great stimulus might be given to the cultivation of other products--coffee, cotton, sugar, and oil. Much had been done for Angola, but with little result, because the colonists' leant on Government instead of trusting to themselves. Illegitimate traffic (the slave-trade) was not at present remunerative, and now was the time to make a great effort to revive wholesome enterprise. A good road into the interior would be a great boon. Efforts to provide roads and canals had failed for want of superintendents. Dr. Livingstone named a Portuguese engineer who would superintend admirably. The fruits of the Portuguese missions were still apparent, but there was a great want of literature, of books.
Dr. Livingstone has often been accused of claiming for himself the credit of discoveries made by others, of writing as if he had been the first to traverse routes in which he had really been preceded by the Portuguese. Even were it true that now and then an obscure Portuguese trader or traveler reached spots that lay in Dr. Livingstone's subsequent route, the fact would detract nothing from his merit, because he derived not a tittle of benefit from their experience, and what he was concerned about was, not the mere honor of being first at a place, as if he had been running a race, but to make it known to the world, to bring it into the circuit of commerce and Christianity, and thus place it under the influence of the greatest blessings. But even as to being first, Livingstone was careful not to claim anything that was really due to others. Writing from Tette to Sir Roderick in March, 1856, he says: "It seems proper to mention what has been done in former times in the way of traversing the continent, and the result of my inquiries leads to the belief that the honor belongs to our country." He refers to the brave attempt of Captain José da Roga, in 1678, to penetrate from Benguela to the Rio da Senna, in which attempt, however, so much opposition was encountered that he was compelled to return. In 1800, Lacerda revived the project by proposing a chain of forts along the banks of the Coanza. In 1815, two black traders showed the possibility of communication from east to west, by bringing to Loanda communications from the Governor of Mozambique. Some Arabs and Moors went from the East Coast to Benguela, and with a view to improve the event, "a million of Reis (£142) and an honorary captaincy in the Portuguese army was offered to any one who would accompany them back--but none went." The journey had several times been performed by Arabs.
From Tette he went on to Senna. Again he is treated with extraordinary kindness by Lieutenant Miranda, and others, and again he is prostrated by an attack of fever. Provided with a comfortable boat, he at last reaches Quilimane on the 20th May, and is most kindly received by Colonel Nunes, "one of the best men in the country." Dr. Livingstone has told us in his book how his joy in reaching Quilimane was embittered on his learning that Captain Maclure, Lieutenant Woodruffe, and five men of H.M.S. "Dart," had been drowned off the bar in coming to Quilimane to pick him up, and how he felt as if he would rather have died for them[46].
[Footnote 46: Among Livingstone's papers we have found draft letter to the Admiralty, earnestly commending to their Lordship's favorable consideration a petition from the widow of one of the men. He had never seen her, he said, but he had been the unconscious cause of her husband's death, and all the joy he felt in crossing the continent was embittered when the news of the sad catastrophe reached him.]
News from across the Atlantic likewise informed him that his nephew and namesake, David Livingston, a fine lad eleven years of age, had been drowned in Canada. All the deeper was his gratitude for the goodness and mercy that had followed him and preserved him, as he says in his private Journal, from "many dangers not recorded in this book."
The retrospect in his _Missionary Travels_ of the manner in which his life had been ordered up to this point, is so striking that our narrative would be deficient if it did not contain it:
In looking forward to the work to which Providence seemed to be calling him, a communication received at Quilimane disturbed him not a little. It was from the London Missionary Society. It informed him that the Directors were restricted in their power of aiding plans connected only remotely with the spread of the gospel, and that even though certain obstacles (from tsetse, etc.) should prove surmountable, "the financial circumstances of the Society are not such as to afford any ground of hope that it would be in a position within any definite period to undertake untried any remote and difficult fields of labor." Dr. Livingstone very naturally understood this as a declinature of his proposals. Writing on the subject to Rev. William Thompson, the Society's agent at Cape Town, he said:
A long letter to the Secretary gives a fuller statement of his views. It is so important as throwing light on his missionary consistency, that we give it in full in the Appendix[47].
[Footnote 47: Appendix No. III.]
The Directors showed a much more sympathetic spirit when Livingstone came among them, but meanwhile, as he tells us in his book, his old feeling of independence had returned, and it did not seem probable that he would remain in the same relation to the Society.
After Livingstone had been six weeks at Quilimane, H.M. brig "Frolic" arrived, with ample supplies for all his need, and took him to the Mauritius, where he arrived on 12th August, 1856. It was during this voyage that the lamentable insanity and suicide of his native attendant Sekwebu occurred, of which we have an account in the _Missionary Travels_. At the Mauritius he was the guest of General Hay, from whom he received the greatest kindness, and so rapid was his recovery from an affection of the spleen which his numerous fevers had bequeathed, that before he left the island he wrote to Commodore Trotter and other friends that he was perfectly well, and "quite ready to go back to Africa again." This, however, was not to be just yet. In November he sailed through the Red Sea, on the homeward route. He had expected to land at Southampton, and there Mrs. Livingstone and other friends had gone to welcome him. But the perils of travel were not yet over. A serious accident befell the ship, which might have been followed by fatal results but for that good Providence that held the life of Livingstone so carefully. Writing to Mrs. Livingstone from the Bay of Tunis (27th November, 1856), he says:
The passengers were sent on _viâ_ Marseilles, and Livingstone proceeded homeward by Paris and Dover.
At last he reached "dear old England" on the 9th of December, 1856. Tidings of a great sorrow had reached him on the way. At Cairo he heard of the death of his father. He had been ill a fortnight, and died full of faith and peace. "You wished so much to see David," said his daughter to him as his life was ebbing away. "Ay, very much, very much; but the will of the Lord be done." Then after a pause he said, "But I think I'll know whatever is worth knowing about him. When you see him, tell him I think so." David had not less eagerly desired to sit once more at the fireside and tell his father of all that had befallen him on the way. On both sides the desire had to be classed among hopes unfulfilled. But on both sides there was a vivid impression that the joy so narrowly missed on earth would be found in a purer form in the next stage of being.