“It is certainly the finest place I ever saw; everything delighted me except man....  We lived in the home of an American Episcopal Methodist minister—­the only Protestant missionary in Brazil....  Tracts and Bibles are circulated, and some effects might be expected, were a most injurious influence not exerted by European visitors.  These alike disgrace themselves and the religion they profess by drunkenness.  All other vices are common in Rio.  When will the rays of Divine light dispel the darkness in this beautiful empire?  The climate is delightful.  I wonder if disabled Indian missionaries could not make themselves useful there.”

During the voyage his chief friend was the captain of the ship.  “He was very obliging to me,” says Livingstone, “and gave me all the information respecting the use of the quadrant in his power, frequently sitting up till twelve o’clock at night for the purpose of taking lunar observations with me.”  Thus another qualification was acquired for his very peculiar life-work.  Sundays were not times of refreshing, at least not beyond his closet.  “The captain rigged out the church on Sundays, and we had service; but I being a poor preacher, and the chaplain addressing them all as Christians already, no moral influence was exerted, and even had there been on Sabbath, it would have been neutralized by the week-day conduct.  In fact, no good was done.”  Neither at Rio, nor on board ship, nor anywhere, could good be done without the element 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