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].[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."
[50] A similar occurrence took place in a church at Bath during the meetings of the British Association in 1864
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."
[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: