A Journey for Timber

A journey for timber — The Mission to Mosega resumed — Moselekatse and the farmers — Prospects among the Bakone tribes — Native agency — An itinerating tour — A visit to Mosheu — His first visit to the station — A second visit — Desire for instruction — Arrive at the village — Eagerness to hear the Gospel — A curious preacher — Anxiety to learn to read — Teaching the alphabet by moonlight — “Auld lang syne” — Departure — Pleasing fruits — The power of pacific principles — A merchant settles on the station — The chapel opened — Mothibi’s conversion — Concluding remarks.

The Tract Society having kindly supplied us with sixteen reams of paper, Mr. Edwards had, during iny absence, printed several tracts in the language, translated by himself and Mr. Lemue. I had, on my journey, translated the Assembly’s Catechism, and an additional portion of the Scripture Lessons; these also were put to the press, while the work of coiwersion was steadily advancing among the people, and the demand for books rapidly on the increase. Having, from the troublous state of the interior, failed in a former attempt to procure timber from the Bahurutsi, we availed ourselves of the present tranquillity, and Messrs. Hamilton and Edwards started with men, and all the wagons, for that purpose; obtained the timber with great labour, and, what was a no less arduous task, brought it a distance of two hundred miles in ox wagons. As they returned they met with the Expedition at Mosega.

When Dr. Smith* arrived at the Kuruman, he found Mrs. M. in such a debilitated state, that he considered it necessary for her to avoid the summer heat, by visiting the coast for a few months. The printing of the Scripture Lessons had been greatly retarded from the want of paper, sickness in the mission families, and the late journeys. She was as reluctant as I could be that it should be longer delayed, and therefore cheerfully undertook the journey without me, and was absent seven months. She went down to Graham’s Town, under the guardianship of Mr. Hume, a trader, who was in the habit of visiting the station.

Early in 1836, our American brethren, Messrs. Lindley, Venables, and Dr. Wilson, after sojourning a season at Griqua Town, and on our station, removed to Mosega, — where, after a season of deep domestic affliction, every member of the mission families, except Dr. Wilson, having taken a fever, of which Mrs. Wilson died, their prospects were unexpectedly blasted by an inroad of some disaffected farmers, wbo bad located themselves on the Yellow River. It appears that the farmers bad bunted on what Moselekatse considered his dominions, and had used some people wbo acknowledged his authority rather roughly. This the haughty monarch would not brook, and sent his men more than once to attack them; and on one occasion a desperate conflict ensued, when the farmers

* Dr. A. Smith, the head of that Expedition, is at present in this country, publishing his work on South African Zoology, and in¬ tends, ere long, to give to the public his Travels, a work which the author has no hesitation in asserting will prove an abundant source of deeply interesting scientific information. The author is indebted to Dr. Smith for some of the sketches in this volume. repulsed their assailants, who, seizing the cattle, retired with them, leaving many of their number dead on the spot where they had intended to massacre the farmers. Exasperated at this, the latter came down in a large body on the mission premises, in rather savage style; and there being only a handful of Matabele in the Mosega Basin, these were cut off; and the farmers, with the cattle they had seized, made a precipitate retreat to the Yellow or Orange River, taking with them the American missionaries, who were so dispirited by the effects of disease, as to be scarcely able to judge how they should act. The latter were prevailed on to leave their property be¬ hind, except that which the farmers took for their own use. Thus was the mission to Mosega again broken up. Into the merits of the case we do not pretend to enter. It was altogether a melancholy affair, like manv others, which have resulted from the unrestrained power of the farmers who emigrated from the Colony; and it is deeply to he regretted that there should have been causes, either real or alleged, for such a procedure.

JMoselekatse was soon taught that his shields could not resist the halls of the farmers, who were not Griquas, whom his tried warriors had hitherto routed. To the latter he had the most uncontrollable hatred, and supposed that all the hordes on the boundaries of the Colony, and the vicinity of the Orange River, were Blooms, Berends, and Bergenaars, and such as had made unprovoked attacks on his assumed territories. In the last conversation I had with him I warned him against a rupture with the farmers; and as he had never heard of Waterboer and his people, I took the opportunity of informing him that from them he need apprehend no injury, as they were such as I could confidently recommend. After inquiring about their character, he very significantly shook his head, saying he would trust no one who had not a recommendation or introduction from the Kuruman. To this engagement he remained faithful, and treated with kindness two of our people who had accompanied the American brethren, and who, on the assault of the farmers, escaped the balls, by concealing themselves among the reeds of a neighbouring stream.

Moselekatse’s power had reached its zenith; for, in addition to the attacks of the farmers, a large com¬ mando from Dingaan came upon him from the east, when many of his men were cut otf, and great numbers of his cattle taken. Overwhelmed by such superior and unexpected forces, he fled to the north; and it merits notice, that before his departure he allowed all the captive Bahurutsi, Bakhatla, and other neighbouring tribes, to return to their own land. This was a measure which astonished the natives, who have since congregated on the ancient domains of their forefathers; and if no foreign power again drive them from their native glens, they will ere long become the interesting objects of missionary labour.

A few missionaries among the Bakone tribes, and an effective native agency, would, under the blessing promised to the seed sown, authorise us to expect a rich harvest of immortal souls from these rocks and plains, to grace the triumph of the Bedeemer. Our native assistants have hitherto been occupied only in their own villages; but there is little doubt that, after the Gospel has been introduced to a distant town or tribe by the missionary, these assistants will be enabled, with the help of a coinjiaratively small sum, to follow him; and, by reading, teaching to read, exhorting, and a Immhle, devout deportment, prepare the people for greater advances in divine knowledge, and render them the cheerful recipients of that civilization which the Gospel introduces. So fully were we convinced of the value of such auxiliaries, that, as early as 1834, we found it conducive to the interests of the mission to have recourse to native assistance, employing Aaron and Paulo to catechize the people, and lead on inquirers. In 1837, some of the influential young men among the Batlaros, who were good readers, cheerfully undertook the task of instructing their neighbours, by holding service and school. This they did among their own people, without being styled native teachers, and without stipend or reward, except what the missionaries spontaneously gave to encourage them. The Bechuana converts being still in their infancy, we deemed it necessary to be cautious in appointing official agents, — it being an acknowledged principle that novices are very easily puffed up; and in this respect my colleagues and myself have seen no reason to regret the caution exercised. Since that period they have been gradually advancing in Christian knowledge; and we consider that there are many who, with the Scriptures in their hands, will be able assistants to the missionarv in carrying into effect the evangelization of their countrymen. The author has been much gratified, since his arrival in England, by the liberality with which several churches ham come forward, to provide for a nundier of such as the missionaries shall deem com-A VISIT TO MOSHEU.

town; for though there were a few secret inquirers, there were none who made any profession, although most of them had heard the voice of the missionary at the Kuruman, before they were driven away by the Bergenaars; and there had been a constant intercourse kept up with the station. Having finished my engagements at this place, I proceeded to the distant and isolated village of Mosheu.

Before relating the particulars of my visit to this people, it will be necessary to give some account of their chief, whose name is Mosheu. He is a Coranna, and, with his people, lived in that sequestered part of the country. When he first visited our station on the Kuruman, in 1834, with two or three attendants riding on oxen, he was to us an entire stranger. He looked clean, was tolerably well dressed, and had a mild and interesting countenance. Having halted at my door, he asked where he should sleep or put up. On inquiring about the object of his visit, he replied that he had come to see me. This was very evident, for he attentively surveyed my per¬ son. As I had at that time a long black beard, I thought that might be one of the objects of attraction. Having feasted his eyes on myself, the family, and the various strange-looking articles constituting the furniture and ornaments of the house, he retired for the night to an outhouse, to which he was directed

set, the other at midnight. She made a long face, and begged hard that he might take it all at once, lest they should fall asleep. I consented, and down went the potion into her stomach, when I exclaimed, “It is not for you.” Licking her lips, she asked, with perfect composure of countenance, if her drinking it would not cure her husband! for that purpose. On a person being sent to offer him supper, we were informed that he had brought plenty of food with him. This was so unusual an occurrence in the conduct of visitors, that we were rather puzzled as to his real motive. Indeed we had not previously known an instance of the kind; for all our numerous native guests, noble or plebeian, from far or near, were always a heavy tax upon our stores. Whoever they might be, they always came as hungry as hawks, and expected to he feasted by the missionary’s bounty. His conduct divested us of all suspicion; and on the following morning we could not help looking on him and his attendants with more than usual interest. As he could understand the Sechuana language, he heard a little about the ‘‘ one thing needful,” although he appeared to listen to what was said to him on divine subjects without any attention. After remaining two days, he left, apparently much pleased with his visit. He asked nothing, but remarked on leaving, holding my hand in his, “I came to see you; my visit has given me pleasure; and now I return home.” It was evident that the visit of this stranger was entirely one of curiosity; and I afterwards learned, that, on a journey to see his friends on the Yellow River, he had seen one of the Wesleyan missionaries, which probably gave rise to the desire of visiting Motito and the Kuruman.

After some time he repeated his visit to our station, bringing with him a large retinue, which included his brother, their wives, and other relations. The journey occuy)ied about five days on ox-hack. Nothing could e([ual our surprise, when we discovered that he was not far from the kimdom of God, and

that he was striving, or rather, agonizing to enter. All the powers of his soul seemed overwhelmed with the contemplation of the love of God. He had only to open his lips, and his tears would flow; his experience was simple, and his affection ardent. When asked the cause of his sorrow, he said, ‘‘ When I first visited you I had only one heart, but now I have come with two. I cannot rest, my eyes will not slumber, because of the greatness of the things you told me on my first visit.” It was evident that an especial blessing had descended on the seed sown at that time, though it was little more than the outlines of Christian doctrine. It also appeared, that during his solitary ride across the lonely plains, his mind became deeply interested in the subject. On his arrival among his own people, he not only began to teach them all he had heard, but he desired to affect their hearts; nor did he labour in vain. The efforts of this inquiring disciple were attended with a blessing. His brother, an intelligent man, had evidently derived benefit; while their wives, and others of his retinue, were so far interested in the subject as to in¬ quire, What shall we do to be saved?” Their knowledge was scanty, and their views very imperfecfi but they believed in the Divine Being, and that He sent his Son into the world to save sinners. These truths were the spring of their emotions, and they thirsted and sighed for further instruction, and more light on subjects of wdiich they possessed but the glimmering rays. Delightful was our task to pour into their souls the light of hea’en, and direct them to the Lamb of God. Their deportment was serious and devout, their ’ attendance on public and private instruction incessant and unwearied. They prolonged their stay, and when compelled to return, seemed anxious to linger a little longer. Their zeal and devotion afforded a fine examjde to others, and it greatly cheered our own souls. The few who could not understand Sechuana, were addressed through one of our members, who could speak the Coranna language. By this means they were all instructed, though, of course, hut partially, in all the distinguishing doctrines of the Gospel, and they returned home with hearts filled with joy. Before Mosheu left, he en¬ treated me to visit his distant village. This, from a multiplicity of engagements, I could not promise to do soon. His affecting appeals and entreaties, how¬ ever, overcame me, for holding my hand, and looking me earnestly in the face, he said again and again, “Just look at me, and try to refuse me if you can. There are many at home who cannot come so far, and I cannot remember all that I have heard; I shall forget some on the road.” A considerable period elapsed before, from public work on the station, and from translating and printing, I could fulfil my promise. Thinking the time long, he was on his way with his friends to make another visit, but having heard at Motito that I was on a tour which would include his village, he returned, and waited my arrival with 2:reat anxietv.

On reaching his village, after having travelled the whole day over a rough and bushy country, and walked much, I was fit onlv to throw mvself down to sleej). The moment I entered the village, the hueand-crv was raised, and old and young, mother and children, came running together as if it were to see

some great prodigy. I received an affectionate wel¬ come, and many a squeeze, while about five hundred human beings were thrusting themselves forward, each exerting himself to the utmost of his power, to get a shake of the hand. Some, who scarcely touched it, trembled as if it had been the paw of a lion. It was nearly midnight before they would disperse, but their departure was a great relief to a wearied man, for their exclamations of surprise and their bawling out to one another in two languages, was any thing but melodious. On awaking from a short sleep, and emerging from my canopy, before my eyes were thoroughly open, I was astonished to find a congregation waiting before the wagon, and at the same moment some individuals started off to different parts of the village to announce my appearance. All hastened to the spot; I confess I was more inclined to take a cup of coffee than to preach a sermon, for I still felt the fatigues of the preceding day. I took my Testament and a hymn-hook, and with such singers as I had, gave out a hymn, read a chapter, and prayed; then taking the text, God so loved the world,’’ etc., discoursed to them for about an hour. Great order and profound silence were maintained. The scene (so well depicted in the vignette in the title-page) was in the centre of the village, composed of Bechuana and Coranna houses, and cattle-folds. Some of these contained the cattle, sheep, and goats, while other herds were strolling about. At a distance a party were approach¬ ing, riding on oxen. A few strangers drew near with their spears and shields, who, on being beckoned to, instantly laid them down. The native dogs could not

understand the strange looking being on the front of the wagon, holding forth to a gazing throng, and they would occasionally break the silence with their bark, for which, however, they suffered the penalty of a stone or stick hurled at their heads. Two milk maids, who had tied their cows to posts, stood the whole time with their milking vessels in their hands, as if afraid of losing a single sentence. The earnest attention manifested exceeded any thing I had ever before witnessed, and the countenances of some indicated strong mental excitement. The majority of my hearers were Bechuanas, and but few of the Corannas could not understand the same language.

After service, I walked to an adjoining pool in the bed of the river to refresh myself wdth a wash, hoping on my return to get something like a breakfast, but found, owing to some mistake, that the kettle was not boiling. The people were again assembling, and again requested me to preach. On begging half an hour for refreshment, the chief’s wife hobbled off to her house, and immediately returned with a large w’ooden vessel full of sour milk, saying, with a smile on her countenance, “There, drink away, drink much, and you will be able to speak long.” Having cheerfully accepted this hasty African breakfast, I resumed my station, and preached a second time to, if possible, a still more attentive congregation. When I had concluded, my hearers divided into companies, to talk the subject over, but others, more inquisitive, plied me wdth questions. While thus ensraered, my attention was arrested by a simple lookimr vouna; man at a short distance, rather oddly attired. He wore what was once a pair ot trowsers,

with part of one leg still remaining. For a hat he had part of the skin of a zebra’s head, with the ears attached, and something not less fantastic about his neck. I had noticed this grotesque figure before, but such sights are by no means uncommon, as the natives will hang any thing about their bodies, either for dress or ornament, without the slightest regard to appearance. The person referred to was holding forth with great animation to a number of people, who were all attention. On approaching, I found, to my surprise, that he was preaching my sermon over again, with uncommon precision, and with great solemnity, imitating as nearly as he could the gestures of the original. A greater contrast could scarcely be conceived than the fantastic figure I have described, and the solemnity of his language, his subject being eternity, while he evidently felt what he spoke. Not wishing to disturb him, I allowed him to finish the recital, and seeing him soon after, told him that he could do what I was sure I could not, that was, preach again the same sermon verbatim. He did not appear vain of his superior memory. “When I hear any thing great,” he said, touching his forehead with his finger, “it remains there.” This young man died in the faith shortly after, before an opportunity was afforded him of making a public profession.

In the evening, after the cows were milked, and the herds had laid themselves down in the folds to chew the cud, a congregation, for the third time, stood before my wagon. The bright silvery moon, holding her way through a cloudless starry sky, and shining on many a sable face, made the scene peculiarly solemn and impressive, while the deepest attention was paid to the subject, which was the importance of religion illustrated by Scripture characters. After the service, they lingered about the wagon, making many inquiries, and repeating over and over again wdiat they had heard. IMosheu very kindly presented a sheep the evening before for myself and people, and the wives took care that we should not want milk. It had been a day of incessant speaking, and at a late hour I was thankful to retire to rest with the hum of voices around the wagon.

The following day, Monday, was no less busy, for though the wind was very high, so as to prevent a public service in the morning, I was engaged ad¬ dressing different parties at their owm dwellings, and teaching them to read. They thought that it would he a fine thing indeed to be able to read books in common with myself, and supposing that there was some royal road to learning, they very simply imagined the art could be acquired by a single exertion of the mental energies, or by some secret charm which they thought I might possess. I had administered medicine to some few” sick, and one who wns seriously ill derived much benefit from having a quantity of blood taken from her arm; and as doctors among the Bechuanas generally unite physic and charms, they very naturally thought that I might be able to charm the knowdedge of reading into their heads. I also addressed those who knew only the Coranna language through an interpreter. When another deeply interesting evening service had closed, the people seemed resolved to get all out of me they could. All wmuld learn to read there and then. A few remaining spelling-books were sought out, and the two or three young people I had with me were each enclosed within a circle of scholars all eager to learn. Some were compelled to be content with only shouting out the names of the letters, which were rather too small to be seen by the whole circle, with only the light of the moon. While this rather noisy exercise was going on, some of the principal men, with whom I was conversing, thought they would also try their skill in this new art.

It was now late, and both mind and body were jaded; but nothing would satisfy them — I must teach them also. After a search, I found, among some waste paper, a large sheet alphabet, with a corner and two letters torn off. This was laid down on the ground, when all knelt in a circle round it, and of course the letters were viewed by some standing just upside down. I commenced pointing with a stick, and when I pronounced one letter, all hallooed out to some purpose. When I remarked that perhaps we might manage with somewhat less noise, one replied, he was sure the louder he roared, the sooner would his tongue get accustomed to the ‘‘ seeds,” as he called the letters. As it was growing late, I rose to straighten my back, which was beginning to tire, when I observed some young folks coming dancing and skipping towards me, who, without any ceremony, seized hold of me. ‘‘ Oh, teach us the ABC with music,” every one cried, giving me no time to tell them it was too late. I found they had made this discovery through one of my boys. There were presently a dozen or more surrounding me, and resistance was out of the question. Dragged and pushed, I entered one of the largest native houses. ( i

which was instantly crowded. The tune of ‘’Auld lang syne” was pitched to A B C, each succeeding I’ound was joined by succeeding voices till every tongue was vocal, and every countenance beamed with heart¬ felt satisfaction. The longer they sang the more fredom was felt, and ‘‘Auld lang syne” was echoed to the farthest corner of the village. The strains which infuse pleasurable emotions into the sons of the North, were no less potent among these children of the South. Those who had retired to their evening’s slumbers, supposing that we were holding a night service, came; ‘‘for music,” it is said, “charms the savage ear.” It certainly does, particularly the natives of Southern Africa, who, however degraded they may have be¬ come, still retain that retinement of taste, which enables them to appreciate those tunes which are distinguished by melody and softness. After two hours’ singing and puffing, I obtained permission, though with some difficulty of consent, and greater of egress, to leave them, now comparatively proficient. It was between two and three in the morning. AYorn out in mind and body, I laid myself down in my wagon, cap and shoes and all, just to have a few hours’ sleep, preparatory to departure on the coming day. As the “music hall” was not far from my pillow, there was little chance of sleeping soundly, for the young amateurs seemed unwearied, and ABC to “Auld lang syne” went on till I was ready to wish it at John-o’-Groat’s house. The company at length dispersed, and awaking in the morning after a brief repose, I was not a little surprised to hear the old tune in everv corner of the village. The maids milk¬ ing the cows, and the boys tending the calves, were humming their alphabet over again.

Before my departure I collected the people once more, and gave them some general directions how to act in their isolated position, so as to benefit by what they had heard; recommending, if it were quite im¬ practicable for them, as a body, to remove to the vicinity of a missionary station, to visit either ours at the Kuruman, or that at Motito, and both when convenient; and concluded by strongly pressing on the minds of all, the importance of acquiring the know¬ ledge of reading, and urging the Corannas to acquire the Sechuana language. While here I received a message from a distant Coranna village, in the form of a memorial, from the chiefs and people, to go and stay some time with them, and make books in their language, as I had done in the Sechuana. From these messengers I could gather, that they supposed that to reduce their click-clack language into writing, and to make books, would be the work of only a few days. This induced me to be the more earnest with those who were living in contact with the Bechuanas, and had become partially acquainted with their language, to cultivate the same with increasing diligence.

Having made all necessary arrangements, I de¬ parted. The whole population of the village accompanied me to a considerable distance, when they all stood gazing after me till my wagon was concealed from their view” by a thicket of acacias. The solitary ride afforded time for reflection, and improvement of the past. I felt my heart overflow with gratitude for what God had permitted me to witness during those three days. I felt assured some good had been done, and it has often afforded pleasurable emotions to look back on the dawn of the emergence of immortal beings from the moral darkness of many generations.

Moslieu and his people made very pleasing advances in Christian knowledge, and so eager were they to benefit by the instructions of the missionaries, that at a considerable sacrifice of time and comfort, they made frequent journeys to the Kuruman. It was an interesting spectacle to see forty or fifty men, women, and children, coming over the plain, all mounted on oxen, and bringing with them a number of milch cows, that they might not he too burden¬ some either to the missionaries or the people. Their object was to obtain instruction; and they would remain at Motito and the Kuruman for more than two months at a time, diligently attending to all the opportunities afforded; and Andries, the brother of Mosheu, being the more talented individual, was soon after appointed schoolmaster, and under his humble and devoted labours they made wonderful progress. What they valued for themselves they were anxious to secure to their children, and Mosheu left his dauditer to the care of Mrs. Moffat, for education, while Andries committed his son to that of Mr. Lenme, at Motito; both of whom made most satisfactory progress, not only in reading and writing, but the daughter in needlework, and in general domestic employments. On her return from Cape Town, when the author came to England, she died of the measles, after giving most pleasing evidence that she was prej)ared lor the great change. Mr. Lenme, who visited her father’s village shortly after this event, re¬ marks, in a letter, how’ forcibly his mind was struck with the mighty change Christianity had produced on a people who, when sorrowing without hope, would have revolted at the idea of visiting a spot where the remains of a dear relative lay, but who could now,

looking forward to immortality, sit on the grave of one beloved, and with hallowed pleasure talk of the “rest that remains for the people of God,” and the certain prospect of meeting her in the heavenly world.

In consequence of the locality of Mosheu’s people, the distance from our station being one hundred and fifty miles, they have been given over to the Paris Society, and a missionary went a year ago to reside among them. To this brief detail the following fact may be added, which has been communicated since my visit to England. This little Christian band had met, on a sabbath morning, with the people in the centre of the village, to hold the early prayer-meeting before the services of the day.”^ They were scarcely seated, when a party of marauders approached from the interior, whither they had gone for plunder, and not having succeeded to their wishes, had determined to attack this Coranna village on their return. Mosheu arose, and begged the people to sit still and trust in Jehovah, while he went to meet the marauders. To his inquiry, what they wanted, the appalling reply was, ‘’Your cattle; and it is at your peril you raise a weapon to resist.” — “There are my cattle,” replied the chief, and then retired and resumed his position at the prayer-meeting. A hymn was sung, a chapter read, and then all kneeled in prayer to God, who only could save them in their distresses. The sight was too sacred and solemn to

* When Andries was once asked by the author how they spent the sabbath, he replied with great simplicity, “We read much in God’s word, and pray and sing, and read again, and again, and again, and explain what we know to those who do not understand the Sechuana language.”

A xMERCIIANT SETTLES ON THE STATION. 605

be gazed on by such a band of ruffians: they all withdrew from the spot, without touching a single article belonging to the people.

Before closing the account of the Becliuana mission, it will be proper to state, that during the years 1837, 1838, a rich blessing descended on the labours of the brethren at home, at the out-stations, and, indeed, at every place where the Gospel was read and preached. Large additions of Bechuanas to the church at Griqua Town have already been noticed; and in 1838, great accessions were made to that of the Kuruman. Under the very efficient and assiduous superintendence of Mr. Edwards, the number of readers connected with the mission had increased in equal ratio; while the Infant School, commenced and carried on by Mrs. Edwards, with the assistance of a native girl, gave the highest satisfaction. The people made rapid advances in civilization; some purchasing wagons, and breaking in their oxen for those labours which formerly devolved on the female sex. The use of clothing became so general, that the want of a merchant was greatly felt, to supply the demands for British commodities. This induced us to invite Mr. D. Hume, in whom we placed implicit confidence, who had already traded much with the natives, and travelled a great distance into the interior, to take up his constant abode on the station for that purpose. He built himself a house, and the measure has succeeded beyond our expectations. Mr. H. had also rendered a very considerable amount of gratuitous labour, in assisting the late Mr. Hugh Milieu in raising the walls of the chapel, and suhse(yuently in finishing it. The y)lace of worship was so far in readiness, that it was opened in November, 1838. This was a deeply

interesting season to all, and especially to the missionaries and the church which has been gathered from among the heathen. Between eight and nine hundred entered those walls, now sacred to the service of Jehovah. A deep sense of the Divine presence was felt during the services on that memorable occasion. The Rev. P. Lemue, of Motito, took part with the resident missionaries in the solemnities. In the afternoon of the following sabbath, one hundred and fifty members united in commemorating the dying love of Him who had redeemed them by his blood, and brought them, by his providence and grace, from tribes — some very distant — to participate in the heavenly banquet. Many, with eyes suffused with tears, compared their present happy condition vfith the ignorance and degradation from which they had been graciously delivered. The church has since increased to two hundred and thirty.

Mothibi, the chief of the Batlapis, had long turned a deaf ear to the invitations of the Gospel, and his declining years and fading faculties led us to fear that he was following some of his contemporaries who had died without hope, after having possessed abundant means of becoming wise unto salvation. By a letter, however, lately received from Mr. Edwards, we have the following delightful intelligence, which cannot fail to proclaim to all the potency of the everlasting Gospel to one who was truly subdued by it in the eleventh hour. Two of his sons, with their wives, were already members of the church, and Mahuto, his wife, was some years ago baptized by the Griqua missionaries.

“Mothibi, our old king, feeble from age, stood forth with others

to make a public profession of his faith, by being baptized. He has for some time been reckoned among the dead; his people view¬ ing him as one of the past generation. I had heard, a few months before he last visited us, that he was becoming much concerned about the state of bis soul, and could no longer conceal his fears, which only increased the longer he kept silent. Being quite overwhelmed, he made known his alarm to the believers, and requested their counsel and sympathy. IMorisanyane, the native reader at his residence, was made useful to him. Mothibi at length urgently entreated his sons ‘ to take him to Kuruman, to see his own missionaries immediately on his arrival, he bent his feeble steps to the mission-house. Never before, I believe, did he visit a missionary with so much anxiety and diffidence. I found him not inclined to speak much, but rather to hear what might be said to him. He said, however, that ‘ he had come to speak about his soul — that he was an old man, great from age, but without under¬ standing: there is nothing left,’ he exclaimed, ‘but my old bones and withered skin; I heard ‘ the word’ from the beginning (twenty-five years ago,) but never understood, and now have no rest night nor day; my soul is sorrowful, and burning with anguish; my heart is sick, and rises into my throat; my mind is dark, and my memory cannot retain the good word; but though it forsakes me, it does me good; it leaves something behind in my soul, which I cannot explain, but which causes me to hope. I wdsh to cast myself at the feet of Jesus the Son of God, in hope and expectation that he will have mercy upon me. I feel that it will be my wdsdom to sit at the feet of believers, who are grown to manhood in knowledge, to be ever instructed by them in the paths of duty and salvation.’

“On inquiiing among those who had observed him of late, I found that they all thought favourably of him, for they had seen him weep repeatedly over his sins, and his lost state as a sinner. He expressed ardent desires to live and die at the feet of Christ, and to be united to his people; and there being no scriptural objection, he was proposed, and received by the church in this place. Though the riffiitful chief of 20,000 Bechuanas, Mothibi stood with as much humility as others of his people beside him, whom he formerly considered as his ‘ servants’ or ‘ dogs,’ to receive the ordinance of baptism. He may not be a bright star among the believers, but if enabled to follow up his desire, ‘to live and die at the feet of Jesus,’ though he go halting the few remaining days of his life, he will be

at last received to glory, a monument of what grace can do even in the eleventh hour.”

In reference to this pleasing event, Mr. Hamilton remarks, “Things are now coming to close quarters. The surrounding heathen chiefs are in a state of consternation at the father of their cause embracing the faith, and becoming a little child in the kingdom of God; and on being assured that this is really the case, shake their heads as mournfully as if he were dead.”

It is a remarkable fact, that some of the heathen chiefs, upwards of one hundred miles distant, are opposed to the introduction of the Gospel among their people, though they view missionaries as their benefactors, receive them with civility, and attend upon their ministry; when, at the same time, those of more distant tribes are anxiously desiring to have missionaries both for themselves and their people. To us this is not at all surprising, the latter being sensible only of the temporal benefits enjoyed by those who have received the Gospel, but comparatively ignorant of the strict requirements of the word of God; while such as live nearer, and have mingled with Christians, often have the enmity of their carnal hearts aroused by witnessing the havoc it makes among their heathenish customs and darling sins, without having tasted the blessedness of being turned from them to serve the living God.^

* Mr. Edwards, accompanied by one of the younger missionaries, lias lately gone into the interior, with the prospect of commencing a mission among the Bakone tribes.