The truth is, if Livingstone had not been the most single-minded and trustful of men, he would never have returned to Africa on such terms.  The whole sum placed at his disposal was utterly inadequate to defray the cost of the Expedition, and support his family at home.  Had it not been for promises that were never fulfilled, he would not have left his family at this time as he did.  But in nothing is the purity of his character seen more beautifully than in his bearing toward some of those who had gained not a little consideration by their connection with him, and had made him fair promises, but left him to work on as best he might.  No trace of bitter feeling disturbed him or abated the strength of his love and confidence.

Dr Livingston went first to Paris with his daughter, and left her there for education.  Passing on he reached Marseilles on the 19th August, and wrote her a few lines, in which he informed her that the man who was now transforming Paris [Baron Hausmann] was a Protestant, and had once taught a Sunday-school in the south of France; and that probably he had greater pleasure in the first than in the second work.  The remark had a certain applicability to his own case, and probably let out a little of his own feeling; it showed at least his estimate of the relative place of temporal and spiritual philanthropy.  The prayer that followed was expressive of his deepest feelings toward his best-beloved on earth:  “May the Almighty qualify you to be a blessing to those around you, wherever your lot is cast.  I know that you hate all that is mean and false.  May God make you good, and to delight in doing good to others.  If you ask He will give abundantly.  The Lord bless you!”

From a Bombay gentleman who was his fellow-traveler to India a little anecdote has casually come to our knowledge illustrating the unobtrusiveness of Livingstone—­his dislike to be made a lion of.  At the table-d’hote of the hotel in Marseilles, where some Bombay merchants were sitting, the conversation turned on Africa in connection with ivory—­an extensive article of trade in Bombay.  One friend dropped the remark, “I wonder where that old chap Livingstone is now.”  To his surprise and discomfiture, a voice replied, “Here he is.”  They were fast friends all through the voyage that followed.  Little of much interest happened during that voyage.  Livingstone writes that Palgrave was in Cairo when he passed through, but he did not see him.  Of Baker he could hear nothing.  Miss Tinne, the Dutch lady, of whom he thought highly as a traveler, had not been very satisfactory to the religious part of the English community at Cairo.  Miss Whately was going home for six weeks, but was to be back to her Egyptian Ragged School.  He saw the end of the Lesseps Canal, about the partial opening of which they were making a great noise.  Many thought it would succeed, though an Egyptian Commodore had said to him, “It is hombog.”  The Red Sea was fearfully hot and steamy.  The “Lady Nyassa” hung like a millstone around his neck, and he was prepared to sell her for whatever she might bring.  Bombay was reached on 11th September.