Then
she pours out her tears over the "poor dear ladies, Miss Mackenzie and
Mrs. Burrup," and remembers the similar fate of the Helmores, who, like
the Bishop and his friends, had had it in their hearts to build a temple
to the Lord in Africa, but had not been permitted. Then comes some
family news, especially about her son Robert, whose sudden death
occurred a few days after, and was another bitter drop in the family
cup. And then some motherly forecastings of her daughter's future,
kindly counsel where she could offer any, and affectionate prayers for
the guidance of God where the future was too dark for her to penetrate.
For a whole month before this letter was written, poor Mary had been
sleeping under the baobab-tree at Shupanga!
In Livingstone's letter to Mrs. Moffat he gives the details of her
illness, and pours his heart out in the same affectionate terms as in
his Journal. He dwells on the many unhappy causes of delay which had
detained them near the mouth of the river, contrary to all his wishes
and arrangements.
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