lement of personal character. This was Livingstone's strong conviction
to the end of his life.

In his first letter to the Directors of the London Missionary Society he
tells them that he had spent most of his time at sea in the study of
theology, and that he was deeply grieved to say that he knew of no
spiritual good having been done in the case of any one on board the
ship. His characteristic honesty thus showed itself in his very
first dispatch.

Arriving at the Cape, where the ship was detained a month, he spent some
time with Dr. Philip, then acting as agent for the Society, with
informal powers as superintendent. Dr. Philip was desirous of returning
home for a time, and very anxious to find some one to take his place as
minister of the congregation of Cape Town, in his absence. This office
was offered to Livingstone, who rejected it with no little
emphasis--not for a moment would he think of it, nor would he preach the
gospel within any other man's line. He had not been long at the Cape
when he found to his surprise and sorrow that the missionaries were not
all at one, either as to the general policy of the mission, or in the
matter of social intercourse and confidence. The shock was a severe one;
it was not lessened by what he came to know of the spirit and life of a
few--happily only a few--of his brethren afterward; and undoubtedly it
had an influence on his future life. It showed him that there were
missionaries whose profession was not supported by a life of consistent
well-doing, although it did not shake his confidence in the character
and the work of missionaries on the whole. He saw that in the mission
there was what might be called a colonial side and a native side; some
sympathizing with the colonists and some with the natives. He had no
difficulty in making up his mind between them; he drew instinctively to
the party that were for protecting the natives against the unrighteous
encroachments of the settlers.

On leaving the ship at Algoa Bay, he proceeded by land to Kuruman or
Lattakoo, in the Bechuana country, the most northerly station of the
Society in South Africa, and the usual residence of Mr. Moffat, who was
still absent in England. In this his first African journey the germ of
the future traveler was apparent. "Crossing the Orange River," he says,
"I got my vehicle aground, and my oxen got out of order, some with their
heads where their tails should be, and others with their heads twisted
rou