"16 BELGRAVE SQUARE, October 2, 1855.
"MY DEAR SIR,--Your most welcome letter reached me after I had made a tour in the Highlands, and just as the meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science commenced.
"I naturally communicated your despatch to the Geographical section of that body, and the reading of it called forth an unanimous expression of admiration of your labors and researches.
"In truth, you will long ago, I trust, have received the cordial thanks of all British geographers for your unparalleled exertions, and your successful accomplishment of the greatest triumph in geographical research which has been effected in our times.
"I rejoice that I was the individual in the Council of the British Geographical Society who proposed that you should receive our first gold medal of the past session, and I need not say that the award was made by an unanimous and cordial vote.
"Permit me to thank you sincerely for having selected me as your correspondent in the absence of Colonel Steele, and to assure you that I shall consider myself as much honored, as I shall certainly be gratified, by every fresh line which you may have leisure to write to me.
"Anxiously hoping that I may make your personal acquaintance, and that you may return to us in health to receive the homage of all geographers,--I remain, my dear Sir, yours most faithfully,
"RODCK I. MURCHISON,"
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:
"It would be heresy to mention the idea of purchasing lands, like religious endowments, among the stiff Congregationalists; but an endowment conferred on a man who will risk his life in an unhealthy climate, in order, thereby, to spread Christ's gospel among the heathen, is rather different, I ween, from the same given to a man to act as pastor to a number of professed Christians.... Some may think it creditable to our principles that we have not a single acre of land, the gift of the Colonial Government, in our possession. But it does not argue much for our foresight that we have not farms of our own, equal to those of any colonial farmer."
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--
"THE END OF THE GEOGRAPHICAL FEAT is ONLY
THE BEGINNING OF THE ENTERPRISE."