The Personal Life of David Livingstone/CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VI

KOLOBENG _continued_--LAKE 'NGAMI.

A.D. 1849-1852.

Kolobeng failing through drought--Sebituane's country and the Lake 'Ngami--Livingstone sets out with Messrs. Oswell and Murray--Rivers Zouga and Tamanak'le--Old ideas of the interior revolutionized--Enthusiasm of Livingstone--Discovers Lake 'Ngami--Obliged to return--Prize from Royal Geographical Society--Second expedition to the lake, with wife and children--Children attacked by fever--Again obliged to return--Conviction as to healthier spot beyond--Idea of finding passage to sea either west or east--Birth and death of a child--Family visits Kuruman--Third expedition, again with family--He hopes to find a new locality--Perils of the journey--He reaches Sebituane--The chiefs illness and death--Distress of Livingstone--Mr. Oswell and he go on the Linyanti--Discovery of the Upper Zambesi--No locality found for settlement--More extended journey necessary--He returns--Birth of Oswald Livingstone--Crisis in Livingstone's life--His guiding principles--New plans--The Makololo begin to practice slave-trade--New thoughts about commerce--Letters to Directors--The Bakwains--_Pros_ and _cons_ of his new plan--His unabated missionary zeal--He goes with his family to the Cape--His literary activity.


When Sechéle turned back after going so far with Livingstone eastward, it appeared that his courage had failed him. "Will you go with me northward?" Livingstone once asked him, and it turned out that he was desirous to do so. He wished to see Sebituane, a great chief living to the north of Lake 'Ngami, who had saved his life in his infancy, and otherwise done him much service. Sebituane was a man of great ability, who had brought a vast number of tribes into subjection, and now ruled over a very extensive territory, being one of the greatest magnates of Africa. Livingstone, too, had naturally a strong desire to become acquainted with so influential a man. The fact of his living near the lake revived the project that had slumbered for years in his mind--to be the first of the missionaries who should look on its waters. At Kolobeng, too, the settlement was in such straits, owing to the excessive drought which dried up the very river, that the people would be compelled to leave it and settle elsewhere. The want of water, and consequently of food, in the gardens, obliged the men to be absent collecting locusts, so that there was hardly any one to come either to church or school. Even the observance of the Sabbath broke down. If Kolobeng should have to be abandoned, where would Livingstone go next? It was certainly worth his while to look if a suitable locality could not be found in Sebituane's territory. He had resolved that he would not stay with the Bakwains always. If the new region were not suitable for himself, he might find openings for native teachers; at all events, he would go northward and see. Just before he started, messengers came to him from Lechulatebe, chief of the people of the lake, asking him to visit his country, and giving such an account of the quantity of ivory that the cupidity of the Bakwain guides was roused, and they became quite eager to be there.

On 1st June, 1849, Livingstone accordingly set out from Kolobeng. Sechéle was not of the party, but two English hunting friends accompanied him, Mr. Oswell and Mr. Murray--Mr. Oswell generously defraying the cost of the guides. Sekomi, a neighboring chief who secretly wished the expedition to fail, lest his monopoly of the ivory should be broken up, remonstrated with them for rushing on to certain death--they must be killed by the sun and thirst, and if he did not stop them, people would blame him for the issue. "No fear," said Livingstone, "people will only blame our own stupidity."

The great Kalahari desert, of which Livingstone has given so full an account, lay between them and the lake. They passed along its northeast border, and had traversed about half of the distance, when one day it seemed most unexpectedly that they had got to their journey's end. Mr. Oswell was a little in advance, and having cleared an intervening thick belt of trees, beheld in the soft light of the setting sun what seemed a magnificent lake twenty miles in circumference; and at the sight threw his hat in the air, and raised a shout which made the Bakwains think him mad. He fancied it was 'Ngami, and, indeed, it was a wonderful deception, caused by a large salt-pan gleaming in the light of the sun; in fact, the old, but ever new phenomenon of the mirage. The real 'Ngami was yet 300 miles farther on.

Livingstone has given ample details of his progress in the _Missionary Travels_, dwelling especially on his joy when he reached the beautiful river Zouga, whose waters flowed from 'Ngami. Providence frustrated an attempt to rouse ill-feeling against him on the part of two men who had been sent by Sekomi, apparently to help him, but who now went before him and circulated a report that the object of the travelers was to plunder all the tribes living on the river and the lake. Half-way up, the principal man was attacked by fever, and died; the natives thought it a judgment, and seeing through Sekomi's reason for wishing the expedition not to succeed, they by and by became quite friendly, under Livingstone's fair and kind treatment.

A matter of great significance in his future history occurred at the junction of the rivers Tamanak'le and Zouga:

    "I inquired," he says, "whence the Tamanak'le came. 'Oh! from
    a country full of rivers,--so many, no one can tell their
    number, and full of large trees.' This was the first
    confirmation of statements I had heard from the Bakwains who
    had been with Sebituane, that the country beyond was not the
    'large sandy plateau' of the philosophers. The prospect of a
    highway, capable of being traversed by boats to an entirely
    unexplored and very populous region, grew from that time
    forward stronger and stronger in my mind; so much so, that
    when we actually came to the lake, this idea occupied such a
    large portion of my mental vision, that the actual discovery
    seemed of but little importance. I find I wrote, when the
    emotions caused by the magnificent prospects of the new
    country were first awakened in my breast, that they might
    subject me to the charge of enthusiasm, a charge which I
    deserved, as nothing good or great had ever been accomplished
    in the world without it[29].'"

[Footnote 29: _Missionary Travels_, p. 65.]

Twelve days after, the travelers came to the northeast end of Lake 'Ngami, and it was on 1st August, 1849, that this fine sheet of water was beheld for the first time by Europeans. It was of such magnitude that they could not see the farther shore, and they could only guess its size from the reports of the natives that it took three days to go round it.

Lechulatebe, the chief who had sent him the invitation, was quite a young man, and his reception by no means corresponded to what the invitation implied. He had no idea of Livingstone going on to Sebituane, who lived two hundred miles farther north, and perhaps supplying him with fire-arms which would make him a more dangerous neighbor. He therefore refused Livingstone guides to Sebituane, and sent men to prevent him from crossing the river. Livingstone was not to be baulked, and worked many hours in the river trying to make a raft out of some rotten wood,--at the imminent risk of his life, as he afterward found, for the Zouga abounds with alligators. The season was now far advanced, and as Mr. Oswell volunteered to go down to the Cape and bring up a boat next year, the expedition was abandoned for the time.

Returning home by the Zouga, they had better opportunity to mark the extraordinary richness of the country, and the abundance and luxuriance of its products, both animal and vegetable. Elephants existed in crowds, and ivory was so abundant that a trader was purchasing it at the rate of ten tusks for a musket worth fifteen shillings. Two years later, after effect had been given to Livingstone's discovery, the price had risen very greatly.

Writing to his friend Watt, he dwells with delight on the river Zouga:

    "It is a glorious river; you never saw anything so grand. The
    banks are extremely beautiful, lined with gigantic trees,
    many quite new. One bore a fruit a foot in length and three
    inches in diameter. Another measured seventy feet in
    circumference. Apart from the branches it looked like a mass
    of granite; and then the Bakoba in their canoes--did I not
    enjoy sailing in them? Remember how long I have been in a
    parched-up land, and answer. The Bakoba are a fine frank race
    of men, and seem to understand the message better than any
    people to whom I have spoken on Divine subjects for the first
    time. What think you of a navigable highway into a large
    section of the interior? yet that the Tamanak'le is.... Who
    will go into that goodly land? Who? Is it not the Niger of
    this part of Africa?... I greatly enjoyed sailing in their
    canoes, rude enough things, hollowed out of the trunks of
    single trees, and visiting the villages along the Zouga. I
    felt but little when I looked on the lake; but the Zouga and
    Tamanak'le awakened emotions not to be described. I hope to
    go up the latter next year."

The discovery of the lake and the river was communicated to the Royal Geographical Society in extracts from Livingstone's letters to the London Missionary Society, and to his friend and former fellow-traveler, Captain Steele. In 1849 the Society voted him a sum of twenty-five guineas "for his successful journey, in company with Messrs. Oswell and Murray, across the South African desert, for the discovery of an interesting country, a fine river, and an extensive inland lake." In addressing Dr. Tidman and Alderman Challis, who represented the London Missionary Society, the President (the late Captain, afterward Rear-Admiral, W. Smyth, R.N., who distinguished himself in early life by his journey across the Andes to Lima, and thence to the Atlantic) adverted to the value of the discoveries in themselves, and in the influence they would have on the regions beyond. He spoke also of the help which Livingstone had derived as an explorer from his influence as a missionary. The journey he had performed successfully had hitherto baffled the best-furnished travelers. In 1834, an expedition under Dr. Andrew Smith, the largest and best-appointed that ever left Cape Town, had gone as far as 23° south latitude; but that proved to be the utmost distance they could reach, and they were compelled to return. Captain Sir James E. Alexander, the only scientific traveler subsequently sent out from England by the Geographical Society, in despair of the lake, and of discovery by the oft-tried eastern route, explored the neighborhood of the western coast instead[30]. The President frankly ascribed Livingstone's success to the influence he had acquired as a missionary among the natives, and Livingstone thoroughly believed this. "The lake," he wrote to his friend Watt, "belongs to missionary enterprise." "Only last year," he subsequently wrote to the Geographical Society, "a party of engineers, in about thirty wagons, made many and persevering efforts to cross the desert at different points, but though inured to the climate, and stimulated by the prospect of gain from the ivory they expected to procure, they were compelled, for want of water, to give up the undertaking." The year after Livingstone's first visit, Mr. Francis Galton tried, but failed, to reach the lake, though he was so successful in other directions as to obtain the Society's gold medal in 1852.

[Footnote 30: Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, vol. xx. p. xxviii.]

Livingstone was evidently gratified at the honor paid him, and the reception of the twenty-five guineas from the Queen. But the gift had also a comical side. It carried him back to the days of his Radical youth, when he and his friends used to criticise pretty sharply the destination of the nation's money. "The Royal Geographical Society," he writes to his parents (4th December, 1850), "have awarded twenty-five guineas for the discovery of the lake. It is from the Queen. You must be very loyal, all of you. Next time she comes your way, shout till you are hoarse. Oh, you Radicals, don't be thinking it came out of your pockets! Long live Victoria[31]!"

[Footnote 31: In a more serious vein he wrote in a previous letter: "I wonder you do not go to see the Queen. I was as disloyal as others when in England, for though I might have seen her in London, I never went. Do you ever pray for her?" This letter is dated 5th February, 1850, and must have been written before he heard of the prize.]

Defeated in his endeavor to reach Sebituane in 1849, Livingstone, the following season, put in practice his favorite maxim, "Try again." He left Kolobeng in April, 1850, and this time he was accompanied by Sechéle, Mebalwe, twenty Bakwains, Mrs. Livingstone, and their whole troop of infantry, which now amounted to three. Traveling in the charming climate of South Africa in the roomy wagon, at the pace of two miles and a half an hour, is not like traveling at home; but it was a proof of Livingstone's great unwillingness to be separated from his family, that he took them with him, notwithstanding the risk of mosquitoes, fever, and want of water. The people of Kolobeng were so engrossed at the time with their employments, that till harvest was over, little missionary work could be done.

The journey was difficult, and on the northern branch of the Zouga many trees had to be cut down to allow the wagons to pass. The presence of a formidable enemy was reported on the banks of the Tamanak'le,--the tsetse-fly, whose bite is so fatal to oxen. To avoid it, another route had to be chosen. When they got near the lake, it was found that fever had recently attacked a party of Englishmen, one of whom had died, while the rest recovered under the care of Dr. and Mrs. Livingstone. Livingstone took his family to have a peep at the lake; "the children," he wrote, "took to playing in it as ducklings do. Paidling in it was great fun." Great fun to them, who had seen little enough water for a while; and in a quiet way, great fun to their father too,--his own children "paidling" in his own lake! He was beginning to find that in a missionary point of view, the presence of his wife and children was a considerable advantage; it inspired the natives with confidence, and promoted tender feelings and kind relations. The chief, Lechulatebe, was at last propitiated at a considerable sacrifice, having taken a fancy to a valuable rifle of Livingstone's, the gift of a friend, which could not be replaced. The chief vowed that if he got it he would give Livingstone everything he wished, and protect and feed his wife and children into the bargain, while he went on to Sebituane. Livingstone at once handed him the gun. "It is of great consequence," he said, "to gain the confidence of these fellows at the beginning." It was his intention that Mrs. Livingstone and the children should remain at Lechulatebe's until he should have returned. But the scheme was upset by an outburst of fever. Among others, two of the children were attacked. There was no help but to go home. The gun was left behind in the hope that ere long Livingstone would get back to claim the fulfillment of the chiefs promise. It was plain that the neighborhood of the lake was not habitable by Europeans. Hence a fresh confirmation of his views as to the need of native agency, if intertropical Africa was ever to be Christianized.

But Livingstone was convinced that there must be a healthier spot to the north. Writing to Mr. Watt (18th August, 1850), he not only expresses this conviction, but gives the ground on which it rested. The extract which we subjoin gives a glimpse of the sagacity that from apparently little things drew great conclusions; but more than that, it indicates the birth of the great idea that dominated the next period of Livingstone's life--the desire and determination to find a passage to the sea, either on the east or the west coast:

    "A more salubrious climate must exist farther up to the
    north, and that the country is higher, seems evident from the
    fact mentioned by the Bakoba, that the water of the Teoge,
    the river that falls into the 'Ngami at the northwest point
    of it, flows with great rapidity. Canoes ascending, punt all
    the way, and the men must hold on by reeds in order to
    prevent their being carried down by the current. Large trees,
    spring-bucks and other antelopes are sometimes brought down
    by it. Do you wonder at my pressing on in the way we have
    done? The Bechuana mission has been carried on in a
    _cul-de-sac._ I tried to break through by going among the
    Eastern tribes, but the Boers shut up that field. A French
    missionary, Mr. Fredoux, of Motito, tried to follow on my
    trail to the Bamangwato, but was turned back by a party of
    armed Boers. When we burst through the barrier on the north,
    it appeared very plain that no mission could be successful
    there, unless we could get a well-watered country leaving a
    passage to the sea on either the east or west coast. This
    project I am almost afraid to meet, but nothing else will do.
    I intend (D.V.) to go in next year and remain a twelvemonth.
    My wife, poor soul--I pity her!--proposed to let me go for
    that time while she remained at Kolobeng. You will pray for
    us both during that period."

A week later (August 24, 1850) he writes to the Directors that no convenient access to the region can be obtained from the south, the lake being 870 miles from Kuruman:

    "We must have a passage to the sea on either the eastern or
    western coast. I have hitherto been afraid to broach the
    subject on which my perhaps dreamy imagination dwells. You at
    home are accustomed to look on a project as half finished
    when you have received the co-operation of the ladies. My
    better half has promised me a twelvemonth's leave of absence
    for mine. Without promising anything, I mean to follow a
    useful motto in many circumstances, and _Try again_."

On returning to Kolobeng, Mrs. Livingstone was delivered of a daughter--her fourth child. An epidemic was raging at the time, and the child was seized and cut off, at the age of six weeks. The loss, or rather the removal, of the child affected Livingstone greatly. "It was the first death in our family," he says in his Journal, "but was just as likely to have happened had we remained at home, and We have now one of our number in heaven."

To his parents he writes (4th December, 1850):

    "Our last child, a sweet little girl with blue eyes, was
    taken from us to join the company of the redeemed, through
    the merits of Him of whom she never heard. It is wonderful
    how soon the affections twine round a little stranger. We
    felt her loss keenly. She was attacked by the prevailing
    sickness, which attacked many native children, and bore up
    under it for a fortnight. We could not apply remedies to one
    so young, except the simplest. She uttered a piercing cry
    previous to expiring, and then went away to see the King in
    his beauty, and the land--the glorious land, and its
    inhabitants. Hers is the first grave in all that country
    marked as the resting-place of one of whom it is believed and
    confessed that she shall live again."

Mrs. Livingstone had an attack of serious illness, accompanied by paralysis of the right side of the face, and rest being essential for her, the family went, for a time, to Kuruman. Dr. Livingstone had a strong desire to go to the Cape for the excision of his uvula, which had long been troublesome. But, with characteristic self-denial, he put his own case out of view, staying with his wife, that she might have the rest and attention she needed. He tried to persuade his father-in-law to perform the operation, and, under his direction, Dr. Moffat went so far as to make a pair of scissors for the purpose; but his courage, so well tried in other fields, was not equal to the performance of such a surgical operation.

Some glimpses of Livingstone's musings at this time, showing, among other things, how much more he thought of his spiritual than his Highland ancestry, occur in a letter to his parents, written immediately after his return from his second visit to the lake (28th July, 1850). If they should carry out their project of emigration to America, they would have an interesting family gathering:

    "One, however, will be 'over the hills and far away' from
    your happy meeting. The meeting which we hope will take place
    in Heaven will be unlike a happy one, in so far as earthly
    relationships are concerned. One will be so much taken up in
    looking at Jesus, I don't know when we shall be disposed to
    sit down and talk about the days of lang syne. And then
    there will be so many notables whom we should like to notice
    and shake hands with--Luke, for instance, the beloved
    physician, and Jeremiah, and old Job, and Noah, and Enoch,
    that if you are wise, you will make the most of your union
    while you are together, and not fail to write me fully, while
    you have the opportunity here....
    "Charles thinks we are not the descendants of the Puritans. I
    don't know what you are, but I am. And if you dispute it, I
    shall stick to the answer of a poor little boy before a
    magistrate. M.--'Who were your parents?' _Boy_ (rubbing his
    eyes with his jacket-sleeve)--'Never had none, sir.' Dr.
    Wardlaw says that the Scotch Independents are the descendants
    of the Puritans, and I suppose the pedigree is through
    Rowland Hill and Whitefield. But I was a member of the very
    church in which John Howe, the chaplain of Oliver Cromwell,
    preached, and exercised the pastorate. I was ordained, too,
    by English Independents. Moreover, I am a Doctor too. Agnes
    and Janet, get up this moment and curtsy to his Reverence!
    John and Charles, remember the dream of the sheaves! _I_
    descended from kilts and Donald Dhus? Na, na, I won't
    believe it.
    "We have a difficult, difficult field to cultivate here. All
    I can say is, that I think knowledge is increasing. But for
    the belief that the Holy Spirit works, and will work for us,
    I should give up in despair. Remember us in your prayers,
    that we grow not weary in well-doing. It is hard to work for
    years with pure motives, and all the time be looked on by
    most of those to whom our lives are devoted, as having some
    sinister object in view. Disinterested labor--benevolence--is
    so out of their line of thought, that many look upon us as
    having some ulterior object in view. But He who died for us,
    and whom we ought to copy, did more for us than we can do for
    any one else. He endured the contradiction of sinners. May we
    have grace to follow in his steps!'

The third, and at last successful, effort to reach Sebituane was made in April, 1851. Livingstone was again accompanied by his family, and by Mr. Oswell. He left Kolobeng with the intention not to return, at least not immediately, but to settle with his family in such a spot as might be found advantageous, in the hilly region, of whose existence he was assured. They found the desert drier than ever, no rain having fallen throughout an immense extent of territory. To the kindness of Mr. Oswell the party was indebted for most valuable assistance in procuring water, wells having been dug or cleared by his people beforehand at various places, and at one place at the hazard of Mr. Oswell's life, under an attack from an infuriated lioness. In his private Journal, and in his letters to home, Livingstone again and again acknowledges with deepest gratitude the numberless acts of kindness done by Mr. Oswell to him and his family, and often adds the prayer that God would reward him, and of His grace give him the highest of all blessings. "Though I cannot repay, I may record with gratitude his kindness, so that, if spared to look upon these, my private memoranda, in future years, proper emotions may ascend to Him who inclined his heart to show so much friendship."

The party followed the old route, around the bed of the Zouga, then crossed a piece of the driest desert they had ever seen, with not an insect or a bird to break the stillness. On the third day a bird chirped in a bush, when the dog began to bark! Shobo, their guide, a Bushman, lost his way, and for four days they were absolutely without water. In his _Missionary Travels_, Livingstone records quietly, as was his wont his terrible anxiety about his children.

    "The supply of water in the wagons had been wasted by one of
    our servants, and by the afternoon only a small portion
    remained for the children. This was a bitterly anxious night;
    and next morning, the less there was of water, the more
    thirsty the little rogues became. The idea of their perishing
    before our eyes was terrible; it would almost have been a
    relief to me to have been reproached with being the entire
    cause of the catastrophe, but not one syllable of upbraiding
    was uttered by their mother, though the tearful eye told the
    agony within. In the afternoon of the fifth day, to our
    inexpressible relief, some of the men returned with a supply
    of that fluid of which we had never before felt the
    true value."
    "No one," he remarks in his Journal, "knows the value of
    water till be is deprived of it. We never need any spirits to
    qualify it, or prevent an immense draught of it from doing us
    harm. I have drunk water swarming with insects, thick with
    mud, putrid from other mixtures, and no stinted draughts of
    it either, yet never felt any inconvenience from it."
    "My opinion is," he said on another occasion, "that the most
    severe labors and privations may be undergone without
    alcoholic stimulus, because those who have endured the most
    had nothing else but water, and not always enough of that."

One of the great charms of Livingstone's character, and one of the secrets of his power--his personal interest in each individual, however humble--appeared in connection with Shobo, the Bushman guide, who misled them and took the blunder so coolly. "What a wonderful people," he says in his Journal, "the Bushmen are! always merry and laughing, and never telling lies wantonly like the Bechuana. They have more of the appearance of worship than any of the Bechuana. When will these dwellers in the wilderness bow down before their Lord? No man seems to care for the Bushman's soul. I often wished I knew their language, but never more than when we traveled with our Bushman guide, Shobo."

Livingstone had given a fair trial to the experiment of traveling along with his family. In one of his letters at this time he speaks of the extraordinary pain caused by the mosquitoes of those parts, and of his children being so covered with their bites, that not a square inch of whole skin was to be found on their bodies. It is no wonder that he gave up the idea of carrying them with him in the more extended journey he was now contemplating. He could not leave them at Kolobeng, exposed to the raids of the Boers; to Kuruman there were also invincible objections; the only possible plan was to send them to England, though he hoped that when he got settled in some suitable part of Sebituane's dominions, with a free road to the sea, they would return to him, and help him to bring the people to Christ.

In the _Missionary Travels_ Livingstone has given a full account of Sebituane, chief of the Makololo, "unquestionably the greatest man in all that country"--his remarkable career, his wonderful warlike exploits (for which he could always bring forward justifying reasons), his interesting and attractive character, and wide and powerful influence. In one thing Sebituane was very like Livingstone himself; he had the art of gaining the affections both of his own people and of strangers. When a party of poor men came to his town to sell hoes or skins, he would sit down among them, talk freely and pleasantly to them, and probably cause some lordly dish to be brought, and give them a feast on it, perhaps the first they had ever shared. Delighted beyond measure with his affability and liberality, they felt their hearts warm toward him; and as he never allowed a party of strangers to go away without giving every one of them--servants and all--a present, his praises were sounded far and wide. "He has a heart! he is wise!" were the usual expressions Livingstone heard before he saw him.

Sebituane received Livingstone with great kindness, for it had been one of the dreams of his life to have intercourse with the white man. He placed full confidence in him from the beginning, and was ready to give him everything he might need. On the first Sunday when the usual service was held he was present, and Livingstone was very thankful that he was there, for it turned out to be the only proclamation of the gospel he ever heard. For just after realizing what he had so long and ardently desired, he was seized with severe inflammation of the lungs, and died after a fortnight's illness. Livingstone, being a stranger, feared to prescribe, lest, in the event of his death, he should be accused of having caused it. On visiting him, and seeing that he was dying, he spoke a few words respecting hope after death. But being checked by the attendants for introducing the subject, he could only commend his soul to God. The last words of Sebituane were words of kindness to Livingstone's son: "Take him to Maunku (one of his wives) and tell her to give him some milk." Livingstone was deeply affected by his death. A deeper sense of brotherhood, a warmer glow of affection had been kindled in his heart toward Sebituane than had seemed possible. With his very tender conscience and deep sense of spiritual realities, Livingstone was afraid, as in the case of Sehamy eight years before, that he had not spoken to him so pointedly as he might have done. It is awfully affecting to follow him into the unseen world, of which he had heard for the first time just before he was called away. In his Journal, Livingstone gives way to his feelings as he very seldom allowed himself to do. His words bring to mind David's lament for Jonathan or for Absalom, although he had known Sebituane less than a month, and he was one of the race whom many Boers and slave-stealers regarded as having no souls:

    "Poor Sebituane, my heart bleeds for thee; and what would I
    not do for thee now? I will weep for thee till the day of my
    death. Little didst thou think when, in the visit of the
    white man, thou sawest the long cherished desires of years
    accomplished, that the sentence of death had gone forth! Thou
    thoughtest that thou shouldest procure a weapon from the
    white man which would be a shield from the attacks of the
    fierce Matebele; but a more deadly dart than theirs was aimed
    at thee; and though, thou couldest well ward off a dart--none
    ever better--thou didst not see that of the king of terrors.
    I will weep for thee, my brother, and I will cast forth my
    sorrows in despair for thy condition! But I know that thou
    wilt receive no injustice whither thou art gone; 'Shall not
    the Judge of all the earth do right?' I leave thee to Him.
    Alas! alas! Sebituane. I might have said more to him. God
    forgive me. Free me from blood-guiltiness. If I had said more
    of death I might have been suspected as having foreseen the
    event, and as guilty of bewitching him. I might have
    recommended Jesus and his great atonement more. It is,
    however, very difficult to break through the thick crust of
    ignorance which envelops their minds."

The death of Sebituane was a great blow in another sense. The region over which his influence extended was immense, and he had promised to show it to Livingstone and to select a suitable locality for his residence. This heathen chief would have given to Christ's servant what the Boers refused him! Livingstone would have had his wish--an entirely new country to work upon, where the name of Christ had never yet been spoken. So at least he thought. Sebituane's successor in the chiefdom was his daughter, Ma-mochisane. From her he received liberty to visit any part of the country he chose. While waiting for a reply (she was residing at a distance), he one day fell into a great danger from an elephant which had come on him unexpectedly. "We were startled by his coming a little way in the direction in which we were standing, but he did not give us chase. I have had many escapes. We seem immortal till our work is done."

Mr. Oswell and he then proceeded in a northeasterly direction, passing through the town of Linyanti, and on the 3d of August they came on the beautiful river at Seshéke:

    "We thanked God for permitting us to see this glorious river.
    All we said to each other was 'How glorious! how magnificent!
    how beautiful!'... In crossing, the waves lifted up the canoe
    and made it roll beautifully. The scenery of the Firths of
    Forth and Clyde was brought vividly to my view, and had I
    been fond of indulging in sentimental effusions, my lachrymal
    apparatus seemed fully charged. But then the old man who was
    conducting us across might have said, 'What on earth are you
    blubbering for? Afraid of these crocodiles, eh?' The little
    sentimentality which exceeded was forced to take its course
    down the inside of the nose. We have other work in this world
    than indulging in sentimentality of the 'Sonnet to the Moon'
    variety."

The river, which went here by the name of Seshéke, was found to be the Zambesi, which had not previously been known to exist in that region. In writing about it to his brother Charles, he says, "It was the first _river_ I ever saw." Its discovery in this locality constituted one of the great geographical feats with which the name of Livingstone is connected. He heard of rapids above, and of great water-falls below; but it was reserved for him on a future visit to behold the great Victoria Falls, which in the popular imagination have filled a higher place than many of his more useful discoveries.

The travelers were still a good many days' distance from Ma-mochisane, without whose presence nothing could be settled; but besides, the reedy banks of the rivers were found to be unsuitable for a settlement, and the higher regions were too much exposed to the attacks of Mosilikatse. Livingstone saw no prospect of obtaining a suitable station, and with great reluctance he made up his mind to retrace the weary road, and return to Kolobeng. The people were very anxious for him to stay, and offered to make a garden for him, and to fulfill Sebituane's promise to give him oxen in return for those killed by the tsetse.

Setting out with the wagons on 13th August, 1851, the party proceeded slowly homeward. On 15th September, 1851, Livingstone's Journal has this unexpected and simple entry: "A son, William Oswell Livingstone[32], born at a place we always call Bellevue." On the 18th: "Thomas attacked by fever; removed to a high part on his account. Thomas was seized with fever three times at about an interval of a fortnight." Not a word about Mrs. Livingstone, but three pages of observations about medical treatment of fever, thunderstorms, constitutions of Indian and African people, leanness of the game, letter received from Directors approving generally of his course, a gold watch sent by Captain Steele, and Gordon Cumming's book, "a miserably poor thing." Amazed, we ask, Had Livingstone any heart? But ere long we come upon a copy of a letter, and some remarks connected with it, that give us an impression of the depth and strength of his nature, unsurpassed by anything that has yet occurred.

[Footnote 32: He had intended to call him Charles, and announced this to his father; but, finding that Mr. Oswell, to whom he was so much indebted, would be pleased with the compliment, he changed his purpose and the name accordingly.]

"The following extracts," he says, "show in what light our efforts are regarded by those who, as much as we do, desire that the 'gospel may be preached to all nations,'" Then follows a copy of a letter which had been addressed to him before they set out by Mrs. Moffat, his mother-in-law, remonstrating in the strongest terms against his plan of taking his wife with him; reminding him of the death of the child, and other sad occurrences of last year; and in the name of everything that was just, kind, and even decent, beseeching him to abandon an arrangement which all the world would condemn. Another letter from the same writer informed him that much prayer had been offered that, if the arrangements were not in accordance with Christian propriety, he might in great mercy be prevented by some dispensation of Providence from carrying them out. Mrs. Moffat was a woman of the highest gifts and character, and full of admiration for Livingstone. The insertion of these letters in his Journal shows that, in carrying out his plan, the objections to which it was liable were before his mind in the strongest conceivable form. No man who knows what Livingstone was will imagine for a moment that he had not the most tender regard for the health, the comfort, and the feelings of his wife; in matters of delicacy he had the most scrupulous regard to propriety; his resolution to take her with him must, therefore, have sprung from something far stronger than even his affection for her. What was this stronger force?

It was his inviolable sense of duty, and his indefeasible conviction that his Father in heaven would not forsake him whilst pursuing a course in obedience to his will, and designed to advance the welfare of his children. As this furnishes the key to Livingstone's future life, and the answer to one of the most serious objections ever brought against it, it is right to spend a little time in elucidating the principles by which he was guided.

There was a saying of the late Sir Herbert Edwardes which he highly valued: "He who has to act on his own responsibility is a slave if he does not act on his own judgment." Acting on this maxim, he must set aside the views of others as to his duty, provided his own judgment was clear regarding it. He must even set aside the feelings and apparent interest of those dearest to him, because duty was above everything else. His faith in God convinced him that, in the long run, it could never be the worse for him and his that he had firmly done his duty. All true faith has in it an element of venture, and in Livingstone's faith this element was strong. Trusting God, he could expose to venture even the health, comfort, and welfare of his wife and children. He was convinced that it was his duty to go forth with them and seek a new station for the Gospel in Sebituane's country. If this was true, God would take care of them, and it was "better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man." People thoughtlessly accused him of making light of the interests of his family. No man suffered keener pangs from the course he had to follow concerning them, and no man pondered more deeply what duty to them required.

But to do all this, Livingstone must have had a very clear perception of the course of duty. This is true. But how did he get this? First, his singleness of heart, so to speak, attracted the light: "If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light." Then, he was very clear and very minute in his prayers. Further, he was most careful to scan all the providential indications that might throw light on the Divine will. And when he had been carried so far on in the line of duty, he had a strong presumption that the line would be continued, and that he would not be called to turn back. It was in front, not in rear, that he expected to find the pillar of cloud and the pillar of fire. In course of time, this hardened into a strong instinctive habit, which almost dispensed with the process of reasoning.

In Dean Stanley's _Sinai and Palestine_ allusion is made to a kindred experience,--that which bore Abraham from Chaldea, Moses from Egypt, and the greater part of the tribes from the comfortable pastures of Gilead and Bashan to the rugged hill-country of Judah and Ephraim. Notwithstanding all the attractions of the richer countries, they were borne onward and forward, not knowing whither they went; instinctively feeling that they were fulfilling the high purposes to which they were called. In the later part of Livingstone's life, the necessity of going forward to the close of the career that had opened for him seemed to settle the whole question of duty.

But at this earlier stage, he had been conscientiously scrutinizing all that had any bearing on that question; and now that he finds himself close to his home, and can thank God for the safe confinement of his wife, and the health of the new-born child, he gathers together all the providences that showed that in this journey, which excited such horror even among his best friends, he had after all been following the guidance of his Father. First, in the matter of guides, he had been wonderfully helped, notwithstanding a deep plot to deprive him of any. Then there was the sickness of Sekómi, whose interest had been secured through his going to see him, and prescribing for him; this had propitiated one of the tribes. The services of Shobo, too, and the selection of the northern route, proposed by Kamati, had been of great use. Their going to Seshéke, and their detention for two months, thus allowing them time to collect information respecting the whole country; the river Chobe not rising at its usual time; the saving of Livingstone's oxen from the tsetse, notwithstanding their detention on the Zouga; his not going with Mr. Oswell to a place where the tsetse destroyed many of the oxen; the better health of Mrs. Livingstone during her confinement than in any previous one; a very opportune present they had got, just before her confinement, of two bottles of wine[33]; the approbation of the Directors, the presentation of a gold watch by Captain Steele, the kind attentions of Mr. Oswell, and the cookery of one of their native servants named George; the recovery of Thomas, whereas at Kuruman a child had been cut off; the commencement of the rains, just as they were leaving the river, and the request of Mr. Oswell that they should draw upon him for as much money as they should need, were all among the indications that a faithful and protecting Father in heaven had been ordering their path, and would order it in like manner in all time to come.

[Footnote 33: In writing to his father, Livingstone mentions that the wine was a gift from Mrs. Bysshe Shelley, in acknowledgment of his aid in repairing a wheel of her wagon.]

Writing at this time to his father-in-law, Mr. Moffat, he said, after announcing the birth of Oswell: "What you say about difference of opinion is true. In my past life, I have always managed to think for myself, and act accordingly. I have occasionally met with people who took it on themselves to act for me, and they have offered their thoughts with an emphatic 'I think'; but I have excused them on the score of being a little soft-headed in believing they could think both for me and themselves."

While Kolobeng was Livingstone's headquarters, a new trouble rose upon the mission horizon. The Makololo (as Sebituane's people were called) began to practice the slave-trade. It arose simply from their desire to possess guns. For eight old muskets they had given to a neighboring tribe eight boys, that had been taken from their enemies in war, being the only article for which the guns could be got. Soon after, in a fray against another tribe, two hundred captives were taken, and, on returning, the Makololo met some Arab traders from Zanzibar, who for three muskets received about thirty of their captives.

Another of the master ideas of his life now began to take hold upon Livingstone. Africa was exposed to a terrible evil through the desire of the natives to possess articles of European manufacture, and their readiness for this purpose to engage in the slave-trade. Though no African had ever been known to sell his own children into captivity, the tribes were ready enough to sell other children that had fallen into their hands by war or otherwise. But if a legitimate traffic were established through which they might obtain whatever European goods they desired in exchange for ivory and other articles of native produce, would not this frightful slave-trade be brought to an end? The idea was destined to receive many a confirmation before Livingstone drew his last breath of African air. It naturally gave a great impulse to the purpose which had already struck its roots into his soul--to find a road to the sea either on the eastern or western coast. Interests wider and grander than even the planting of mission stations on the territories of Sebituane now rose to his view. The welfare of the whole continent, both spiritual and temporal, was concerned in the success of this plan of opening new channels to the enterprise of British and other merchants, always eager to hear of new markets for their goods. By driving away the slave-trade, much would be done to prepare the way for Christian missions which could not thrive in an atmosphere of war and commotion. An idea involving issues so vast was fitted to take a right powerful hold on Livingstone's heart, and make him feel that no sacrifice could be too great to be encountered, cheerfully and patiently, for such an end.

Writing to the Directors (October, 1851), he says:

    "You will see by the accompanying sketch-map what an immense
    region God in his grace has opened up. If we can enter in and
    form a settlement, we shall be able in the course of a very
    few years to put a stop to the slave-trade in that quarter.
    It is probable that the mere supply of English manufacturers
    on Sebituane's part will effect this, for they did not like
    the slave-trade, and promised to abstain. I think it will be
    impossible to make a fair commencement unless I can secure
    two years devoid of family cares. I shall be obliged to go
    southward, perhaps to the Cape, to have my uvula excised and
    my arm mended (the latter, if it can be done, only). It has
    occurred to me that, as we must send our children to England,
    it would be no great additional expense to send them now
    along with their mother. This arrangement would enable me to
    proceed, and devote about two or perhaps three years to this
    new region; but I must beg your sanction, and if you please
    let it be given or withheld as soon as you can conveniently,
    so that it might meet me at the Cape. To orphanize my
    children will be like tearing out my bowels, but when I can
    find time to write you fully you will perceive it is the only
    way, except giving up that region altogether.
    "Kuruman will not answer as a residence, nor yet the Colony.
    If I were to follow my own inclinations, they would lead me
    to settle down quietly with the Bakwains, or some other small
    tribe, and devote some of my time to my children; but
    _Providence seems to call me to the regions beyond_, and if I
    leave them anywhere in this country, it will be to let them
    become heathens. If you think it right to support them, I
    believe my parents in Scotland would attend to them
    otherwise."

Continuing the subject in a more leisurely way a few weeks later, he refers to the very great increase of traffic that had taken place since the discovery of Lake 'Ngami two years before; the fondness of the people for European articles; the numerous kinds of native produce besides ivory, such as beeswax, ostrich feathers, etc., of which the natives made little or no use, but which they would take care of if regular trade were established among them. He thought that if traders were to come up the Zambesi and make purchases from the producers they would both benefit themselves and drive the slave-dealer from the market. It might be useful to establish a sanatorium, to which missionaries might come from less healthy districts to recruit. This would diminish the reluctance of missionaries to settle in the interior. For himself, though he had reared three stations with much bodily labor and fatigue, he would cheerfully undergo much more if a new station would answer such objects. In referring to the countries drained by the Zambesi, he believed he was speaking of a large section of the slave-producing region of Africa. He then went on to say that to a certain extent their hopes had been disappointed; Mr. Oswell had not been able to find a passage to the sea, and he had not been able to find a station for missionary work. They therefore returned together. "He assisted me," adds Livingstone, "in every possible way. May God reward him!"

In regard to mission work for the future an important question arose, What should be done for the Bakwains? They could not remain at Kolobeng--hunger and the Boers decided that point. Was it not, then, his duty to find and found a new station for them? Dr. Livingstone thought not. He had always told them that he would remain with them only for a few years. One of his great ideas on missions in Africa was that a fair trial should be given to as many places as possible, and if the trial did not succeed the missionaries should pass on to other tribes. He had a great aversion to the common impression that the less success one had the stronger was one's duty to remain. Missionaries were only too ready to settle down and make themselves as comfortable as possible, whereas the great need was for men to move on, to strike out into the regions beyond, to go into all the world. He had far more sympathy for tribes that had never heard the gospel than for those who had had it for years. He used to refer to certain tribes near Griqualand that had got a little instruction, but had no stated missionaries; they used to send some of their people to the Griquas to learn what they could, and afterward some others; and these persons, returning, communicated what they knew, till a wonderful measure of knowledge was acquired, and a numerous church was formed. If the seed had once been sown in any place it would not remain dormant, but would excite the desire for further knowledge; and on the whole it would be better for the people to be thrown somewhat on their own resources than to have everything done for them by missionaries from Europe. In regard to the Bakwains, though they had promised well at first, they had not been a very teachable people. He was not inclined to blame them; they had been so pinched by hunger and badgered by the Boers that they could not attend to instruction; or rather, they had too good an excuse for not doing so. "I have much affection for them," he says in his Journal, "and though I pass from them I do not relinquish the hope that they will yet turn to Him to whose mercy and love they have often been invited. The seed of the living Word will not perish."

The finger of Providence clearly pointed to a region farther north in the country of the Barotse or beyond it, He admitted that there were _pros_ and _cons_ in the case. Against his plan,--some of his brethren did not hesitate to charge him with being actuated by worldly ambition. This was the more trying, for sometimes he suspected his own motives. Others dwelt on what was due to his family. Moreover, his own predilections were all for a quiet life. And there was also the consideration, that as the Directors could not well realize the distances he would have to travel before he reached the field, he might appear more as an explorer than a missionary. On the other hand:

    "I am conscious," he says, "that though there is much
    impurity in my motives, they are in the main for the glory of
    Him to whom I have devoted myself. I never anticipated fame
    from the discovery of the Lake. I cared very little about it,
    but the sight of the Tamanak'le, and the report of other
    large rivers beyond, all densely populated, awakened many and
    enthusiastic feelings.... Then, again, consider the multitude
    that in the Providence of God have been brought to light in
    the country of Sebituane; the probability that in our efforts
    to evangelize we shall put a stop to the slave-trade in a
    large region, and by means of the highway into the North
    which we have discovered bring unknown nations into the
    sympathies of the Christian world. If I were to choose my
    work, it would be to reduce this new language, translate the
    Bible into it, and be the means of forming a small church.
    Let this be accomplished, I think I could then lie down and
    die contented. Two years' absence will be necessary....
    Nothing but a strong conviction that the step will lead to
    the glory of Christ would make me orphanize my children. Even
    now my bowels yearn over them. They Will forget me; but I
    hope when the day of trial comes, I shall not be found a more
    sorry soldier than those who serve an earthly sovereign.
    Should you not feel yourselves justified in incurring the
    expense of their support in England, I shall feel called upon
    to renounce the hope of carrying the gospel into that
    country, and labor among those who live in a more healthy
    country, viz., the Bakwains. But, stay, I am not sure; so
    powerfully convinced am I that it is the will of the Lord I
    should, _I will go, no matter who opposes_; but from you I
    expect nothing but encouragement. I know you wish as ardently
    as I can that all the world may be filled with the glory of
    the Lord. I feel relieved when I lay the whole case before
    you."

He proposed that a brother missionary, Mr. Ashton, should be placed among the Bamangwato, a people who were in the habit of spreading themselves through the Bakalahari, and should thus form a link between himself and the brethren in the south.

In a postscript, dated Bamangwato, 14th November, he gratefully acknowledges a letter from the Directors, in which his plans are approved of generally. They had recommended him to complete a dictionary of the Sichuana language. This he would have been delighted to do when his mind was full of the subject, but with the new projects now before him, and the probability of having to deal with a new language for the Zambesi district, he could not undertake such a work at present.

In a subsequent letter to the Directors (Cape Town, 17th March, 1852), Livingstone finds it necessary to go into full details with regard to his finances. Though he writes with perfect calmness, it is evident that his exchequer was sadly embarrassed. In fact, he had already not only spent all the salary (£100) of 1852, but fifty-seven pounds of 1853, and the balance would be absorbed by expenses in Cape Town. He had been as economical as possible; in personal expenditure most careful--he had been a teetotaler for twenty years. He did not hesitate to express his conviction that the salary was inadequate, and to urge the Directors to defray the extra expenditure which was now inevitable; but with characteristic generosity he urged Mr. Moffat's Claims much more warmly than his own.

From expressions in Livingstone's letter to the Directors, it is evident that he was fully aware of the risk he ran, in his new line of work, of appearing to sink the missionary in the explorer. There is no doubt that next to the charge of forgetting the claims of his family, to which we have already adverted, this was the most plausible of the objections taken to his subsequent career. But any one who has candidly followed his course of thought and feeling from the moment when the sense of unseen realities burst on him at Blantyre, to the time at which we have now arrived, must see that this view is altogether destitute of support. The impulse of divine love that had urged him first to become a missionary had now become with him the settled habit of his life. No new ambition had flitted across his path, for though he had become known as a geographical discoverer, he says he thought very little of the fact, and his life shows this to have been true. Twelve years of missionary life had given birth to no sense of weariness, no abatement of interest in these poor black savages, no reluctance to make common cause with them in the affairs of life, no despair of being able to do them good. On the contrary, he was confirmed in his opinion of the efficacy of his favorite plan of native agency, and if he could but get a suitable base of operations, he was eager to set it going, and on every side he was assured of native welcome. Shortly before (5th February, 1850), when writing to his father with reference to a proposal of his brother Charles that he should go and settle in America, he had said: "I am a missionary, heart and soul. God had an only Son, and He was a missionary and a physician. A poor, poor imitation of Him I am, or wish to be. In this service I hope to live, in it I wish to die." The spectre of the slave-trade had enlarged his horizon, and shown him the necessity of a commercial revolution for the whole of Africa, before effectual and permanent good could be done in any part of it. The plan which he had now in view multiplied the risks he ran, and compelled him to think anew whether he was ready to sacrifice himself, and if so, for what. All that Livingstone did was thus done with open eyes and well-considered resolution. Adverting to the prevalence of fever in some parts of the country, while other parts were comparatively healthy, he says in his Journal: "I offer myself as a forlorn hope in order to ascertain whether there is a place fit to be a sanatorium for more unhealthy spots. May God accept my service, and use me for his glory. A great honor it is to he a fellow-worker with God." "It is a great venture," he writes to his sister (28th April, 1851). "Fever may cut us all off. I feel much when I think of the children dying. But who will go if we don't? Not one. I would venture everything for Christ. Pity I have so little to give. But He will accept us, for He is a good master. Never one like Him. He can sympathize. May He forgive, and purify, and bless us."

If in his spirit of high consecration he was thus unchanged, equally far was he from having a fanatical disregard of life, and the rules of provident living.

    "Jesus," he says, "came not to judge,--[Greek:
    kriuo],--condemn judicially, or execute vengeance on any one.
    His was a message of peace and love. He shall not strive nor
    cry, neither shall his voice he heard in the streets.
    Missionaries ought to follow his example. Neither insist on
    our rights, nor appear as if we could allow our goods to be
    destroyed without regret: for if we are righteous overmuch,
    or stand up for our rights with too much vehemence, we beget
    dislikes, and the people see no difference between ourselves
    and them. And if we appear to care nothing for the things of
    this world, they conclude we are rich, and when they beg, our
    refusal is ascribed to niggardliness, and our property, too,
    is wantonly destroyed. 'Ga ba tloke'=they are not in need, is
    the phrase employed when our goods are allowed to go to
    destruction by the neglect of servants.... In coming among
    savage people, we ought to make them feel we are of them, 'we
    seek not yours, but you'; but while very careful not to make
    a gain of them, we ought to be as careful to appear thankful,
    and appreciate any effort they may make for our comfort or
    subsistence."

On reaching Kolobeng from 'Ngami they found the station deserted. The Bakwains had removed to Limaüe. Sechéle came down the day after, and presented them with an ox--a valuable gift in his circumstances. Sechéle had much yet to bear from the Boers; and after being, without provocation, attacked, pillaged, and wasted, and robbed of his children, he was bent on going to the Queen of England to state his wrongs. This, however, he could not accomplish, though he went as far as the Cape. Coming back afterward to his own people, he gathered large numbers about him from other tribes, to whose improvement he devoted himself with much success. He still survives, with the one wife whom he retained; and, though not without some drawbacks (which Livingstone ascribed to the bad example set him by some), he maintains his Christian profession. His people are settled at some miles' distance from Kolobeng, and have a missionary station, supported by a Hanoverian Society. His regard for the memory of Livingstone is very great, and he reads with eagerness all that he can find about him. He has ever been a warm friend of missions has a wonderful knowledge of the Bible, and can preach well. The influence of Livingstone in his early days was doubtless a real power in mission-work. Mebalwe, too, we are informed by Dr. Moffat, still survives; a useful man, an able preacher, and one who has done much to bring his people to Christ.

It was painful to Livingstone to say good-bye to the Bakwains, and (as Mrs. Moffat afterward reminded him) his friends were not all in favor of his doing so; but he regarded his departure as inevitable. After a short stay at Kuruman, he and his family went on to Cape Town, where they arrived on the 16th of March, 1852, and had new proofs of Mr. Oswell's kindness. After eleven years' absence, Livingstone's dress-coat had fallen a little out of fashion, and the whole costume of the party was somewhat in the style of Robinson Crusoe. The generosity of "the best friend we have in Africa" made all comfortable, Mr. Oswell remarking that Livingstone had as good a right as he to the money drawn from the "preserves on his estate"--the elephants. Mentally, Livingstone traces to its source the kindness of his friend, thinking of One to whom he owed all--"O divine Love, I have not loved Thee strongly, deeply, warmly enough." The retrospect of his eleven years of African labor, unexampled though they had been, only awakened in him the sense of unprofitable service.

Before closing the record of this period, we must take a glance at the remarkable literary activity which it witnessed. We have had occasion to refer to Livingstone's first letters to Captain Steele, for the Geographical Society; additional letters were contributed from time to time. His philological researches have also been noticed. In addition to these, we find him writing two articles on African Missions for the _British Quarterly Review_, only one of which was published. He likewise wrote two papers for the _British Banner_ on the Boers. While crossing the desert, after leaving the Cape on his first great journey, he wrote a remarkable paper on "Missionary Sacrifices," and another of great vigor on the Boers. Still another paper on Lake 'Ngami was written for a Missionary Journal contemplated, but never started, under the editorship of the late Mr. Isaac Taylor; and he had one in his mind on the religion of the Bechuanas, presenting a view which differed somewhat from that of Mr. Moffat. Writing to Mr. Watt from Linyanti (3d October, 1853), on printing one of his papers, he says:

    "But the expense, my dear man. What a mess I am in, writing
    papers which cannot pay their own way! Pauper papers, in
    fact, which must go to the workhouse for support. Ugh! Has
    the Caffre War paper shared the same fate? and the Language
    paper too? Here I have two by me, which I will keep in their
    native obscurity. One is on the South African Boers and
    slavery, in which I show that their church is, and always has
    been, the great bulwark of slavery, cattle-lifting, and
    Caffre-marauding; and I correct the mistaken views of some
    writers who describe the Boers as all that is good, and of
    others who describe as all that is bad, by showing who are
    the good and who are the bad. The other, which I rather
    admire,--what father doesn't his own progeny?--is on the
    missionary work, and designed to aid young men of piety to
    form a more correct idea of it than is to be had from much of
    the missionary biography of 'sacrifices.' I magnify the
    enterprise, exult in the future, etc., etc. It was written in
    coming across the desert, and if it never does aught else, it
    imparted comfort and encouragement to myself[34].... I feel
    almost inclined to send it.... If the Caffre War one is
    rejected, then farewell to spouting in Reviews."

[Footnote 34: For extracts from the paper on "Missionary Sacrifices," see Appendix No. I. For part of the paper on the Boers, see _Catholic Presbyterian_ December, 1879 (London, Nisbet and Co.).]

If he had met with more encouragement from editors he would have written more. But the editorial cold shoulder was beyond even his power of endurance. He laid aside his pen in a kind of disgust, and this doubtless was one of the reasons that made him unwilling to resume it on his return to England. Editors were wiser then; and the offer from one London Magazine of £400 for four articles, and from _Good Words_ of £1000 for a number of papers to be fixed afterward,--offers which, however, were not accepted finally,--showed how the tide had turned.