CHAPTER IV.

FIRST TWO STATIONS--MABOTSA AND CHONUANE.

A.D. 1843-1847.

Description of Mabotsa--A favorite hymn--General reading--Mabotsa

infested with lions--Livingstone's encounter--The native deacon who

saved him--His Sunday-school--Marriage to Mary Moffat--Work at

Mabotsa--Proposed institution for training native agents--Letter to his

mother--Trouble at Mabotsa--Noble sacrifice of Livingstone--Goes to

Sechéle and the Bakwains--New station at Chonuane--Interest shown by

Sechéle--Journeys eastward--The Boers and the Transvaal--Their

occupation of the country, and treatment of the natives--Work among the

Bakwains--Livingstone's desire to move on--Theological conflict at

home--His view of it--His scientific labors and miscellaneous

employments.

Describing what was to be his new home to his friend Watt from Kuruman,

27th September, 1843, Livingstone says: "The Bakhatla have cheerfully

offered to remove to a more favorable position than they at present

occupy. We have fixed upon a most delightful valley, which we hope to

make the centre of our sphere of operations in the interior. It is

situated in what poetical gents like you would call almost an

amphitheatre of mountains. The mountain range immediately in the rear of

the spot where we have fixed our residence is called Mabotsa, or a

marriage-feast. May the Lord lift upon us the light of his countenance,

so that by our feeble instrumentality many may thence be admitted to the

marriage-feast of the Lamb. The people are as raw as may well be

imagined; they have not the least desire but for the things of the

earth, and it must be a long time ere we can gain their attention to the

things which are above."

Something led him in his letter to Mr. Watt to talk of the old monks,

and the spots they selected for their establishments. He goes on to

write lovingly of what was good in some of the old fathers of the

mediæval Church, despite the strong feeling of many to the contrary;

indicating thus early the working of that catholic spirit which was

constantly expanding in later years, which could separate the good in

any man from all its evil surroundings, and think of it thankfully and

admiringly. In the following extract we get a glimpse of a range of

reading much wider than most would probably have supposed likely:

"Who can read the sermons of St. Bernard, the meditations of

St. Augustine, etc., without saying, whatever other faults

they had: They thirsted, and now they are filled. That hymn:

of St. Bernard, on the name of Christ, although in what might

he termed dog-Latin, pleases me so; it rings in my ears as I

wander across the wide, wide wilderness, and makes me wish I

was more like them--

"Jesu, dulcis memoria, Jesu, spes poenitentibus,

Dans cordi vera gaudia; Quam pius es petentibus!

Sed super mel et omnia, Quam bonus es quærentibus!

Ejus dulcis præsentia. Sed quid invenientibus!

Nil canitur suavius, Jesu, dulcedo cordium,

Nil auditur jucundius, Fons, rivus, lumen mentium,

Nil cogitatur dulcius, Excedens omne gaudium,

Quam Jesus Dei filius. Et omne desiderium."

Livingstone was in the habit of fastening inside the boards of his

journals, or writing on the fly-leaf, verses that interested him

specially. In one of these volumes this hymn is copied at full length.

In another we find a very yellow newspaper clipping of the "Song of the

Shirt." In the same volume a clipping containing "The Bridge of

Sighs," beginning

"One more unfortunate,

Weary of breath,

Rashly importunate,

Gone to her death."

In another we have Coleridge's lines:

"He prayeth well who loveth well

Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best who loveth best

All things both great and small;

For the dear God who loveth us,

He made and loveth all."

In another, hardly legible on the marble paper, we find:

"So runs my dream: but what am I?

An infant crying in the night;

An infant crying for the light:

And with no language but a cry."

All Livingstone's personal friends testify that, considering the state

of banishment in which he lived, his acquaintance with English

literature was quite remarkable. When a controversy arose in America as

to the genuineness of his letters to the _New York Herald_, the

familiarity of the writer with the poems of Whittier was made an

argument against him. But Livingstone knew a great part of the poetry of

Longfellow, Whittier, and others by heart.

There was one drawback to the new locality: it was infested with lions.

All the world knows the story of the encounter at Mabotsa, which was so

near ending Livingstone's career, when the lion seized him by the

shoulder, tore his flesh, and crushed his bone. Nothing in all

Livingstone's history took more hold of the popular imagination, or was

more frequently inquired about when he came home[21]. By a kind of

miracle his life was saved, but the encounter left him lame for life of

the arm which the lion crunched[22]. But the world generally does not

know that Mebalwe, the native who was with him, and who saved his life

by diverting the lion when his paw was on his head, was the teacher whom

Mrs. M'Robert's twelve pounds had enabled him to employ. Little did the

good woman think that this offering would indirectly be the means of

preserving the life of Livingstone for the wonderful work of the next

thirty years! When, on being attacked by Mebalwe, the lion left

Livingstone, and sprang upon him, he bit his thigh, then dashed toward

another man, and caught him by the shoulder, when in a moment, the

previous shots taking effect, he fell down dead. Sir Bartle Frere, in

his obituary notice of Livingstone read to the Royal Geographical

Society, remarked: "For thirty years afterward all his labors and

adventures, entailing such exertion and fatigue, were undertaken with a

limb so maimed that it was painful for him to raise a fowling-piece, or

in fact to place the left arm in any position above the level of the

shoulder."

[Footnote 21: He did not speak of it spontaneously, and sometimes he

gave unexpected answers to questions put to him about it. To one person

who asked very earnestly what were his thoughts when the lion was above

him, he answered, "I was thinking what part of me he would eat first"--a

grotesque thought, which some persons considered strange in so good a

man, but which was quite in accordance with human experience in similar

circumstances.]

[Footnote 22: The false joint in the crushed arm was the mark by which

the body of Livingstone was identified when brought home by his

followers in 1873.]

In his _Missionary Travels_ Livingstone says that but for the

importunities of his friends, he meant to have kept this story in store

to tell his children in his dotage. How little he made of it at the time

will be seen from the following allusion to it in a letter to his

father, dated 27th July, 1844. After telling how the attacks of the

lions drew the people of Mabotsa away from the irrigating operations he

was engaged in, he says:

"At last, one of the lions destroyed nine sheep in broad

daylight on a hill just opposite our house. All the people

immediately ran over to it, and, contrary to my custom, I

imprudently went with them, in order to see how they acted,

and encourage them to destroy him. They surrounded him

several times, but he managed to break through the circle. I

then got tired. In coming home I had to come near to the end

of the hill. They were then close upon the lion and had

wounded him. He rushed out from the bushes which concealed

him from view, and bit me on the arm so as to break the bone.

It is now nearly well, however, feeling weak only from having

been confined in one position so long; and I ought to praise

Him who delivered me from so great a danger. I hope I shall

never forget his mercy. You need not be sorry for me, for

long before this reaches you it will be quite as strong as

ever it was. Gratitude is the only feeling we ought to have

in remembering the event. Do not mention this to any one. I

do not like to be talked about."

In a letter to the Directors, Livingstone briefly adverts to Mebalwe's

service on this occasion, but makes it a peg on which to hang some

strong remarks on that favorite topic--the employment of native agency:

"Our native assistant Mebalwe has been of considerable value

to the Mission. In endeavoring to save my life he nearly lost

his own, for he was caught and wounded severely, but both

before being laid aside, and since his recovery, he has shown

great willingness to be useful. The cheerful manner in which

he engages with us in manual labor in the station, and his

affectionate addresses to his countrymen, are truly

gratifying. Mr. E. took him to some of the neighboring

villages lately, in order to introduce him to his work; and I

intend to depart to-morrow for the same purpose to several of

the villages situated northeast of this. In all there may be

a dozen considerable villages situated at convenient

distances around us, and we each purpose to visit them

statedly. It would be an _immense advantage_ to the cause had

we many such agents."

Another proof that his pleas for native agency, published in some of the

Missionary Magazines, were telling at home, was the receipt of a

contribution for the employment of a native helper, amounting to £15,

from a Sunday-school in Southampton. Touched with this proof of youthful

sympathy, Livingstone addressed a long letter of thanks to the

Southampton teachers and children, desiring to deepen their interest in

the work, and concluding with an account of his Sunday-school:

"I yesterday commenced school for the first time at Mabotsa,

and the poor little naked things came with fear and

trembling. A native teacher assisted, and the chief collected

as many of them as he could, or I believe we should have had

none. The reason is, the women make us the hobgoblins of

their children, telling them 'these white men bite children,

feed them with dead men's brains, and all manner of nonsense.

We are just commencing our mission among them."

A new star now appeared in Livingstone's horizon, destined to give a

brighter complexion to his life, and a new illustration to the name

Mabotsa. Till this year (1844) he had steadily repudiated all thoughts

of marriage, thinking it better to be independent. Nor indeed had he met

with any one to induce him to change his mind. Writing in the end of

1843 to his friend Watt, he had said: "There's no outlet for me when I

begin to think of getting married but that of sending home an

advertisement to the _Evangelical Magazine_, and if I get very old, it

must be for some decent sort of widow. In the meantime I am too busy to

think of any thing of the kind." But soon after the Moffats came back

from England to Kuruman, their eldest daughter Mary rapidly effected a

revolution in Livingstone's ideas of matrimony. They became engaged. In

announcing his approaching marriage to the Directors, he makes it plain

that he had carefully considered the bearing which this step might have

on his usefulness as a missionary. No doubt if he had foreseen the very

extraordinary work to which he was afterwards to be called, he might

have come to a different conclusion. But now, apparently, he was fixed

and settled. Mabotsa would become a centre from which native missionary

agents would radiate over a large circumference. His own life-work would

resemble Mr. Moffat's. For influencing the women and children of such a

place, a Christian lady was indispensable, and who so likely to do it

well as one born in Africa, the daughter of an eminent and honored

missionary, herself familiar with missionary life, and gifted with the

winning manner and the ready helping hand that were so peculiarly

adapted for this work? The case was as clear as possible, and

Livingstone was very happy.

On his way home from Kuruman, after the engagement, he writes to her

cheerily from Motito, on 1st August, 1844, chiefly about the household

they were soon to get up; asking her to get her father to order some

necessary articles, and to write to Colesberg about the marriage-license

(and if he did not get it, they would license themselves!), and

concluding thus:

"And now, my dearest, farewell. May God bless you! Let your

affection be towards Him much more than towards me; and, kept

by his mighty power and grace, I hope I shall never give you

cause to regret that you have given me a part. Whatever

friendship we feel towards each other, let us always look to

Jesus as our common friend and guide, and may He shield you

with his everlasting arms from every evil!"

Next month he writes from Mabotsa with full accounts of the progress of

their house, of which he was both architect and builder:

"_Mabotsa, 12th September_, 1844.--I must tell you of the

progress I have made in architecture. The walls are nearly

finished, although the dimensions are 52 feet by 20 outside,

or almost the same size as the house in which you now reside.

I began with stone, but when it was breast-high, I was

obliged to desist from my purpose to build it entirely of

that material by an accident, which, slight as it was, put a

stop to my operations in that line. A stone failing was

stupidly, or rather instinctively, caught by me in its fall

by the left hand, and it nearly broke my arm over again. It

swelled up again, and I fevered so much I was glad of a fire,

although the weather was quite warm. I expected bursting and

discharge, but Baba bound it up nicely, and a few days' rest

put all to rights. I then commenced my architecture, and six

days have brought the walls up a little more than six feet.

"The walls will be finished long before you receive this, and

I suppose the roof too, but I have still the wood of the roof

to seek. It is not, however, far off; and as Mr. E. and I,

with the Kurumanites, got on the roof of the school in a

week, I hope this will not be more than a fortnight or three

weeks. Baba has been most useful to me in making door and

window frames; indeed, if he had not turned out I should not

have been advanced so far as I am. Mr. E.'s finger is the

cause in part of my having no aid from him, but all will come

right at last. It is pretty hard work, and almost enough to

drive love out of my head, but it is not situated there; it

is in my heart, and won't come out unless you behave so as to

quench it!...

"You must try and get a maid of some sort to come with

although it is only old Moyimang; you can't go without some

one, and a Makhatla can't be had for either love or money....

"You must excuse soiled paper, my hands won't wash clean

after dabbling mud all day. And although the above does not

contain evidence of it, you are as dear to me as ever, and

will be as long as our lives are spared.--I am still your

most affectionate

"D. LIVINGSTON."

A few weeks later he writes:

"As I am favored with another opportunity to Kuruman, I

gladly embrace it, and wish I could embrace you at the same

time; but as I cannot, I must do the next best to it, and

while I give you the good news that our work is making

progress, and of course the time of our separation becoming

beautifully less, I am happy in the hope that, by the

messenger who now goes, I shall receive the good news that

you are well and happy, and remembering me with some of that

affection which we bear to each other.... All goes on pretty

well here; the school is sometimes well, sometimes ill

attended. I begin to like it, and I once believed I could

never have any pleasure in such employment. I had a great

objection to school-keeping, but I find in that as in almost

everything else I set myself to as a matter of duty, I soon

became enamored of it. A boy came three times last week, and

on the third time could act as monitor to the rest through a

great portion of the alphabet. He is a real Mokhatla, but I

have lost sight of him again. If I get them on a little, I

shall translate some of your infant-school hymns into

Sichuana rhyme, and you may yet, if you have time, teach them

the tunes to them. I, poor mortal, am as mute as a fish in

regard to singing, and Mr. Englis says I have not a bit of

imagination. Mebalwe teaches them the alphabet in the 'auld

lang syne' tune sometimes, and I heard it sung by some youths

in the gardens yesterday--a great improvement over their old

see-saw tunes indeed. Sometimes we have twenty, sometimes

two, sometimes none at all.

"Give my love to A., and tell her to be sure to keep my

lecture warm. She must not be vexed with herself, that she

was not more frank to me. If she is now pleased, all is

right. I have sisters, and know all of you have your

failings, but I won't love you less for these. And to mother,

too, give my kindest salutation. I suppose I shall get a

lecture from her, too, about the largeness of the house. If

there are too many windows, she can just let me know. I could

build them all up in two days, and let the light come down

the chimney, if that would please. I'll do anything for

peace, except fighting for it. And now I must again, my dear,

dear Mary, bid you good-bye. Accept my expressions as

literally true when I say, I am your most affectionate and

still confiding lover,

"D. LIVINGSTON."

In due time the marriage was solemnized, and Livingstone brought his

wife to Mabotsa. Here they went vigorously to work, Mrs. Livingstone

with her infant-school, and her husband with all the varied agencies,

medical, educational, and pastoral, which his active spirit could bring

to bear upon the people. They were a very superstitious race, and, among

other things, had great faith in rain-making. Livingstone had a famous

encounter with one of their rain-makers, the effect of which, was that

the pretender was wholly nonplused; but instead of being convinced of

the absurdity of their belief, the people were rather disposed to think

that the missionaries did not want them to get rain. Some of them were

workers in iron, who carried their superstitious notions into that

department of life, too, believing that the iron could be smelted only

by the power of medicines, and that those who had not the proper

medicine need not attempt the work. In the hope of breaking down these

absurdities, Livingstone planned a course of popular lectures on the

works of God in creation and providence, to be carried out in the

following way:

"I intend to commence with the goodness-of God in giving iron

ore, by giving, if I can, a general knowledge of the

simplicity of the substance, and endeavoring to disabuse

their minds of the idea which prevents them, in general, from

reaping the benefit of that mineral which abounds in their

country. I intend, also, to pay more attention to the

children of the few believers we have with us as a class, for

whom, as baptized ones, we are bound especially to care. May

the Lord enable me to fulfill my resolutions! I have now the

happy prospect before me of real missionary work. All that

has preceded has been preparatory."

All this time Livingstone had been cherishing his plan of a training

seminary for native agents. He had written a paper and brought the

matter before the missionaries, but without success. Some opposed the

scheme fairly, as being premature, while some insinuated that his object

was to stand well with the Directors, and get himself made Professor.

This last objection induced him to withdraw his proposal. He saw that in

his mode of prosecuting the matter he had not been very knowing; it

would have been better to get some of the older brethren to adopt it. He

feared that his zeal had injured the cause he desired to benefit, and in

writing to his friend Watt, he said that for months he felt bitter

grief, and could never think of the subject without a pang[23].

[Footnote 23: Dr. Moffat favored the scheme of a training seminary, and

when he came home afterward, helped to raise a large sum of money for

the purpose. He was strongly of opinion that the institution should be

built at Sechéle's; but, contrary to his view, and that of Livingstone,

it has been placed at Kuruman.]

A second time he brought forward his proposal, but again without

success. Was he then to be beaten? Far from it. He would change his

tactics, however. He would first set himself to show what could be done

by native efforts; he would travel about, wherever he found a road, and

after inquiries, settle native agents far and wide. The plan had only to

be tried, under God's blessing, to succeed. Here again we trace the

Providence that shaped his career. Had his wishes been carried into

effect, he might have spent his life training native agents, and doing

undoubtedly a noble work: but he would not have traversed Africa; he

would not have given its death-blow to African slavery; he would not

have closed the open sore of the world, nor rolled away the great

obstacle to the evangelization of the Continent.

Some glimpses of his Mabotsa life may be got from a letter to his mother

(14th May, 1845). Usually his letters for home were meant for the whole

family and addressed accordingly; but with a delicacy of feeling, which

many will appreciate, he wrote separately to his mother after a little

experience of married life:

"I often think of you, and perhaps more frequently since I

got married than before. Only yesterday I said to my wife,

when I thought of the nice clean bed I enjoy now, 'You put me

in mind of my mother; she was always particular about our

beds and linen. I had had rough times of it before.'...

"I cannot perceive that the attentions paid to my

father-in-law at home have spoiled him. He is, of course, not

the same man he formerly must have been, for he now knows the

standing he has among the friends of Christ at home. But the

plaudits he received have had a bad effect, and tho' not on

_his_ mind, yet on that of his fellow-laborers. You, perhaps,

cannot understand this, but so it is. If one man is praised,

others think this is more than is deserved, and that they,

too ('others,' they say, while they mean themselves), ought

to have a share. Perhaps you were gratified to see my letters

quoted in the _Chronicle_. In some minds they produced bitter

envy, and if it were in my power, I should prevent the

publication of any in future. But all is in the Lord's hands;

on Him I cast my care. His testimony I receive as it

stands--He careth for us. Yes, He does; for He says it, who

is every way worthy of credit. He will give what is good for

me. He will see to it that all things work together for good.

Do thou for me, O Lord God Almighty! May his blessing rest on

you, my dear mother....

"I received the box from Mr. D. The clothes are all too wide

by four inches at least. Does he think that aldermen grow in

Africa? Mr. N., too, fell into the same fault, but he will be

pleased to know his boots will be worn by a much better

man--Mr. Moffat. I am not an atom thicker than when you

saw me....

"Respecting the mission here, we can say nothing. The people

have not the smallest love to the gospel of Jesus. They hate

and fear it, as a revolutionary spirit is disliked by the old

Tories. It appears to them as that which, if not carefully

guarded against, will seduce them, and destroy their

much-loved domestic institutions. No pro-slavery man in the

Southern States dreads more the abolition principles than do

the Bakhatla the innovations of the Word of God. Nothing but

power Divine can work the mighty change."

Unhappily Mr. and Mrs. Livingstone's residence at Mabotsa was embittered

by a painful collision with the missionary who had taken part in rearing

the station. Livingstone was accused of acting unfairly by him, of

assuming to himself more than his due, and attempts were made to

discredit him, both among the missionaries and the Directors. It was a

very painful ordeal, and Livingstone felt it keenly. He held the

accusation to be unjust, as most people will hold it to have been who

know that one of the charges against him was that he was a

"non-entity"! A tone of indignation pervades his letters:--that after

having borne the heat and burden of the day, he should be accused of

claiming for himself the credit due to one who had done so little in

comparison. But the noble spirit of Livingstone rose to the occasion.

Rather than have any scandal before the heathen, he would give up his

house and garden at Mabotsa, with all the toil and money they had cost

him, go with his young bride to some other place, and begin anew the

toil of house and school building, and gathering the people around him.

His colleague was so struck with his generosity that he said had he

known his intention he never would have spoken a word against him.

Livingstone had spent all his money, and out of a salary of a hundred

pounds it was not easy to build a house every other year. But he stuck

to his resolution. Parting with his garden evidently cost him a pang,

especially when he thought of the tasteless hands into which it was to

fall. "I like a garden," he wrote, "but paradise will make amends for

all our privations and sorrows here." Self-denial was a firmly

established habit with him; and the passion of "moving on" was warm in

his blood. Mabotsa did not thrive after Livingstone left it, but the

brother with whom he had the difference lived to manifest a very

different spirit.

In some of his journeys, Livingstone had come into close contact with

the tribe of the Bakwains, which, on the murder of their chief, some

time before, had been divided into two, one part under Bubi, already

referred to, and the other under Sechéle, son of the murdered chief,

also already introduced. Both of these chiefs had shown much regard for

Livingstone, and on the death of Bubi, Sechéle and his people indicated

a strong wish that a missionary should reside among them. On leaving

Mabotsa, Livingstone transferred his services to this tribe. The name of

the pew station was Chonuane; it was situated some forty miles from

Mabotsa, and in 1846 it became the centre of Livingstone's operations

among the Bakwains and their chief Sechéle.

Livingstone had been disappointed with the result of his work among the

Bakhatlas. No doubt much good had been done; he had prevented several

wars; but where were the conversions[24]? On leaving he found that he

had made more impressions on them than he had supposed. They were most

unwilling to lose him, offered to do anything in their power for his

comfort, and even when his oxen were "inspanned" and he was on the point

of moving, they offered to build a new house without expense to him in

some other place, if only he would not leave them. In a financial point

of view, the removal to Chonuane was a serious undertaking. He had to

apply to the Directors at home for a building-grant--only thirty pounds,

but there were not wanting objectors even to that small sum. It was only

in self-vindication that he was constrained to tell of the hardships

which his family had borne;--

[Footnote 24: When some of Livingstone's "new light" friends heard that

there were so few conversions, they seem to have thought that he was too

much of an old Calvinist, and wrote to him to preach that the remedy was

as extensive as the disease--Christ loved _you_, and gave himself for

_you_. "You may think me heretical," replied he, "but we don't need to

make the extent of the atonement the main topic of our preaching. We

preach to men who don't know but they are beasts, who have no idea of

God as a personal agent, or of sin as evil, otherwise than as an offense

against each other, which may or may not be punished by the party

offended.... Their consciences are seared, and moral perceptions

blunted. Their memories retain scarcely anything we teach them, and so

low have they sunk that the plainest text in the whole Bible cannot be

understood by them."]

"We endured for a long while, using a wretched infusion of

native corn for coffee, but when our corn was done, we were

fairly obliged to go to Kuruman for supplies. I can bear what

other Europeans would consider hunger and thirst without any

inconvenience, but when we arrived, to hear the old woman who

had seen my wife depart about two years before, exclaiming

before the door, 'Bless me! how lean she is! Has he starved

her? Is there no food in the country to which she has been?'

was more than I could well bear."

From the first, Sechéle showed an intelligent interest in Livingstone's

preaching. He became a great reader especially of the Bible, and

lamented very bitterly that he had got involved in heathen customs, and

now did not know what to do with his wives. At one time he expressed

himself quite willing to convert all his people to Christianity by the

litupa, _i.e._ whips of rhinoceros hide; but when he came to understand

better, he lamented that while he could make his people do anything else

he liked, he could not get one of them to believe. He began family

worship, and Livingstone was surprised to hear how well he conducted

prayer in his own simple and beautiful style. When he was baptized,

after a profession of three years, he sent away his superfluous wives in

a kindly and generous way; but all their connections became active and

bitter enemies of the gospel, and the conversion of Sechéle, instead of

increasing the congregation, reduced it so much that sometimes the chief

and his family were almost the only persons present. A bell-man of a

somewhat peculiar order was once employed to collect the people for

service--a tall gaunt fellow. "Up he jumped on a sort of platform, and

shouted at the top of his voice, 'Knock that woman down over there.

Strike her, she is putting on her pot! Do you see that one hiding

herself? Give her a good blow. There she is--see, see, knock her down!'

All the women ran to the place of meeting in no time, for each thought

herself meant. But, though a most efficient bell-man, we did not like to

employ him."

While residing at Chonuane, Livingstone performed two journeys eastward,

in order to attempt the removal of certain obstacles to the

establishment of at least one of his native teachers in that direction.

This brought him into connection with the Dutch Boers of the Cashan

mountains, otherwise called Magaliesberg. The Boers were emigrants from

the Cape, who had been dissatisfied with the British rule, and

especially with the emancipation of their Hottentot slaves, and had

created for themselves a republic in the north (the Transvaal), in order

that they might pursue, unmolested, the proper treatment of the blacks.

"It is almost needless to add," says Livingstone, "that proper treatment

has always contained in it the essential element of slavery, viz.,

compulsory unpaid labor." The Boers had effected the expulsion of

Mosilikatse, a savage Zulu warrior, and in return for this service they

considered themselves sole masters of the soil. While still engaged in

the erection of his dwelling-house at Chonuane, Livingstone received

notes from the Commandant and Council of the emigrants, requesting an

explanation of his intentions, and an intimation that they had resolved

to come and deprive Sechéle of his fire-arms. About the same time he

received several very friendly messages and presents from Mokhatla,

chief of a large section of the Bakhatla, who lived about four days

eastward of his station, and had once, while Livingstone was absent,

paid a visit to Chonuane, and expressed satisfaction with the idea of

obtaining Paul, a native convert, as his teacher. As soon as his house

was habitable, Livingstone proceeded to the eastward, to visit Mokhatla,

and to confer with the Boers.

On his way to Mokhatla he was surprised at the unusual density of the

population, giving him the opportunity of preaching the gospel at least

once every day. The chief, Mokhatla, whose people were quiet and

industrious, was eager to get a missionary, but said that an arrangement

must be made with the Dutch commandant. This involved some delay.

Livingstone then returned to Chonuane, finished the erection of a school

there, and setting systematic instruction fairly in operation under Paul

and his son, Isaac, again went eastward, accompanied this time by Mrs.

Livingstone and their infant son, Robert Moffat[25]--all the three being

in indifferent health. Mebalwe, the catechist, was also with them.

Taking a different route, they came on another Bakhatla tribe, whose

country abounded in metallic ores, and who, besides cultivating their

fields, span cotton, smelted iron, copper, and tin, made an alloy of tin

and copper, and manufactured ornaments. Livingstone had constantly an

eye to the industries and commercial capabilities of the countries he

passed through. Social reform was certainly much needed here; for the

chief, though not twenty years of age, had already forty-eight wives and

twenty children. They heard of another tribe, said to excel all others

in manufacturing skill, and having the honorable distinction, "they had

never been known to kill any one." This lily among thorns they were

unable to visit. Three tribes of Bakhalaka whom they did visit were at

continual war.

[Footnote 25: He wrote to his father that he would have called him Neil,

if it had not been such an ugly name, and all the people would have

called him Ra-Neeley!]

Deriving his information from the Boers themselves, Livingstone learned

that they had taken possession of nearly all the fountains, so that the

natives lived in the country only by sufferance. The chiefs were

compelled to furnish the emigrants with as much free labor as they

required. This was in return for the privilege of living in the country

of the Boers! The absence of law left the natives open to innumerable

wrongs which the better-disposed of the emigrants lamented, but could

not prevent. Livingstone found that the forcible seizure of cattle was a

common occurrence, but another custom was even worse. When at war, the

Dutch forced natives to assist them, and sent them before them into

battle, to encounter the battle-axes of their opponents, while the Dutch

fired in safety at their enemies over the heads of their native allies.

Of course all the disasters of the war fell on the natives; the Dutch

had only the glory and the spoil. Such treatment of the natives burned

into the very soul of Livingstone. He was specially distressed at the

purpose expressed to pick a quarrel with Sechéle, for whatever the

emigrants might say of other tribes, they could not but admit that the

Bechuanas had been always an honest and peaceable people.

When Livingstone met the Dutch commandant he received favorably his

proposal of a native missionary, but another obstacle arose. Near the

proposed station lived a Dutch emigrant who had shown himself the

inveterate enemy of missions. He had not scrupled to say that the proper

way to treat any native missionary was to kill him. Livingstone was

unwilling to plant Mebalwe beside so bloodthirsty a

neighbor**(spelling?), and as he had not time to, go to him, and try to

bring him to a better mind, and there was plenty of work to be done at

the station, they all returned to Chonuane.

"We have now," says Livingstone (March, 1847), "been a little more than

a year with the Bakwains. No conversions have taken place, but real

progress has been made." He adverts to the way in which the Sabbath was

observed, no work being done by the natives in the gardens that day, and

hunting being suspended. Their superstitious belief in rain-maiking had

got a blow. There was a real desire for knowledge, though hindered by

the prevailing famine caused by the want of rain. There was also a

general impression among the people that the missionaries were their

friends. But civilization apart from conversion would be but a poor

recompense for their labor.

But, whatever success might attend their work among the Bakwains,

Livingstone's soul was soaring beyond them:

"I am more and more convinced," he writes to the Directors,

"that in order to the permanent settlement of the gospel in

any part, the natives must be taught to relinquish their

reliance on Europe. An onward movement ought to be made

whether men will hear or whether they will forbear. I tell my

Bakwains that if spared ten years, I shall move on to regions

beyond them. If our missions would move onward now to those

regions I have lately visited, they would in all probability

prevent the natives settling into that state of determined

hatred to all Europeans which I fear now characterizes most

of the Caffres near the Colony. If natives are not elevated

by contact with Europeans, they are sure to be deteriorated.

It is with pain I have observed that all the tribes I have

lately seen are undergoing the latter process. The country

is fine. It abounds in streams, and has many considerable

rivers. The Boers hate missionaries, but by a kind and

prudent course of conduct one can easily manage them.

Medicines are eagerly received, and I intend to procure a

supply of Dutch tracts for distribution among them. The

natives who have been in subjection to Mosilikatse place

unbounded confidence in missionaries."

In his letters to friends at home, whatever topic Livingstone may touch,

we see evidence of one over-mastering idea--the vastness of Africa, and

the duty of beginning a new area of enterprise to reach its people.

Among his friends the Scotch Congregationalists, there had been a keen

controversy on some points of Calvinism. Livingstone did not like it; he

was not a high Calvinist theoretically, yet he could not accept the new

views, "from a secret feeling of being absolutely at the divine disposal

as a sinner;" but these were theoretical questions, and with dark Africa

around him, he did not see why the brethren at home should split on

them. Missionary influence in South Africa was directed in a wrong

channel. There were three times too many missionaries in the colony, and

vast regions beyond lay untouched. He wrote to Mr. Watt: "If you meet me

down in the colony before eight years are expired, you may shoot me."

Of his employments and studies he gives the following account: "I get

the _Evangelical, Scottish Congregational, Eclectic, Lancet, British and

Foreign Medical Review_. I can read in journeying, but little at home.

Building, gardening, cobbling, doctoring, tinkering, carpentering,

gun-mending, farriering, wagon-mending, preaching, schooling, lecturing

on physics according to my means, beside a chair in divinity to a class

of three, fill up my time."

With all his other work, he was still enthusiastic in science. "I have

written Professor Buckland," he says to Mr. Watt (May, 1845), "and send

him specimens too, but have not received any answer. I have a great lot

by me now. I don't know whether he received my letter or not. Could you

ascertain? I am trying to procure specimens of the entire geology of

this region, and will try and make a sort of chart. I am taking double

specimens now, so that if one part is lost, I can send another. The

great difficulty is transmission. I sent a dissertation on the decrease

of water in Africa. Call on Professor Owen and ask if he wants anything

in the four jars I still possess, of either rhinoceros, camelopard,

etc., etc. If he wants these, or anything else these jars will hold, he

must send me more jars and spirits of wine."

He afterward heard of the fate of one of the boxes of specimens he had

sent home--that which contained the fossils of Bootchap. It was lost on

the railway after reaching England, in custody of a friend. "The thief

thought the box contained bullion, no doubt. You may think of one of the

faces in _Punch_ as that of the scoundrel, when he found in the box a

lot of 'chuckystanes.'" He had got many nocturnal-feeding, animals, but

the heat made it very difficult to preserve them. Many valuable seeds he

had sent to Calcutta, with the nuts of the desert, but had heard nothing

of them. He had lately got knowledge of a root to which the same virtues

were attached as to ergot of rye. He tells his friend about the tsetse,

the fever, the north wind, and other African notabilia. These and many

other interesting points of information are followed up by the

significant question--

"Who will penetrate through Africa?"

The Personal Life of David Livingstone Chiefly from his Unpublished Journals and Correspondence in the Possession of His Family · 第 4 / 23 章