The Personal Life of David Livingstone/CHAPTER III
CHAPTER III.
FIRST TWO YEARS IN AFRICA.
A.D. 1841-1843.
His ordination--Voyage out--At Rio de Janeiro--At the Cape--He proceeds to Kuruman--Letters--Journey of 700 miles to Bechuana country--Selection of site for new station--Second excursion to Bechuana country--Letter to his sister--Influence with chiefs--Bubi--Construction of a water-dam--Sekomi--Woman seized by a lion--The Bakaa--Sebehwe--Letter to Dr. Risdon Bennett--Detention at Kuruman--He visits Sebehwe's village--Bakhatlas--Sechéle, chief of Bakwains--Livingstone translates hymns--Travels 400 miles on oxback--Returns to Kuruman--Is authorized to form new station--Receives contributions for native missionary--Letters to Directors on their Mission policy--He goes to new station--Fellow-travelers--Purchase of site--Letter to Dr. Bennett--Desiccation of South Africa--Death of a servant, Sehamy--Letter to his parents.
On the 20th November, 1840, Livingstone was ordained a missionary in
Albion Street Chapel, along with the Rev. William Ross, the service
being conducted by the Rev. J.J. Freeman and the Rev. R. Cecil. On the
8th of December he embarked on board the ship "George," under Captain
Donaldson, and proceeded to the Cape, and thence to Algoa Bay. On the
way the ship had to put in at Rio de Janeiro, and he had a glance at
Brazil, with which he was greatly charmed. It was the only glimpse he
ever got of any part of the great continent of America. Writing to the
Rev. G.D. Watt, with whom he had become intimate in London, and who was
preparing to go as a missionary to India, he says:
"It is certainly the finest place I ever saw; everything
delighted me except man.... We lived in the home of an
American Episcopal Methodist minister--the only Protestant
missionary in Brazil.... Tracts and Bibles are circulated,
and some effects might be expected, were a most injurious
influence not exerted by European visitors. These alike
disgrace themselves and the religion they profess by
drunkenness. All other vices are common in Rio. When will the
rays of Divine light dispel the darkness in this beautiful
empire? The climate is delightful. I wonder if disabled
Indian missionaries could not make themselves useful there."
During the voyage his chief friend was the captain of the ship. "He was very obliging to me," says Livingstone, "and gave me all the information respecting the use of the quadrant in his power, frequently sitting up till twelve o'clock at night for the purpose of taking lunar observations with me." Thus another qualification was acquired for his very peculiar life-work. Sundays were not times of refreshing, at least not beyond his closet. "The captain rigged out the church on Sundays, and we had service; but I being a poor preacher, and the chaplain addressing them all as Christians already, no moral influence was exerted, and even had there been on Sabbath, it would have been neutralized by the week-day conduct. In fact, no good was done." Neither at Rio, nor on board ship, nor anywhere, could good be done without the element of personal character. This was Livingstone's strong conviction to the end of his life.
In his first letter to the Directors of the London Missionary Society he tells them that he had spent most of his time at sea in the study of theology, and that he was deeply grieved to say that he knew of no spiritual good having been done in the case of any one on board the ship. His characteristic honesty thus showed itself in his very first dispatch.
Arriving at the Cape, where the ship was detained a month, he spent some time with Dr. Philip, then acting as agent for the Society, with informal powers as superintendent. Dr. Philip was desirous of returning home for a time, and very anxious to find some one to take his place as minister of the congregation of Cape Town, in his absence. This office was offered to Livingstone, who rejected it with no little emphasis--not for a moment would he think of it, nor would he preach the gospel within any other man's line. He had not been long at the Cape when he found to his surprise and sorrow that the missionaries were not all at one, either as to the general policy of the mission, or in the matter of social intercourse and confidence. The shock was a severe one; it was not lessened by what he came to know of the spirit and life of a few--happily only a few--of his brethren afterward; and undoubtedly it had an influence on his future life. It showed him that there were missionaries whose profession was not supported by a life of consistent well-doing, although it did not shake his confidence in the character and the work of missionaries on the whole. He saw that in the mission there was what might be called a colonial side and a native side; some sympathizing with the colonists and some with the natives. He had no difficulty in making up his mind between them; he drew instinctively to the party that were for protecting the natives against the unrighteous encroachments of the settlers.
On leaving the ship at Algoa Bay, he proceeded by land to Kuruman or Lattakoo, in the Bechuana country, the most northerly station of the Society in South Africa, and the usual residence of Mr. Moffat, who was still absent in England. In this his first African journey the germ of the future traveler was apparent. "Crossing the Orange River," he says, "I got my vehicle aground, and my oxen got out of order, some with their heads where their tails should be, and others with their heads twisted round in the yoke so far that they appeared bent on committing suicide, or overturning the wagon.... I like travelling very much indeed. There is so much freedom connected with our African manners. We pitch our tent, make our fire, etc., wherever we choose, walk, ride, or shoot at abundance of all sorts of game as our inclination leads us; but there is a great drawback: we can't study or read when we please. I feel this very much. I have made but very little progress in the language (can speak a little Dutch), but I long for the time when I shall give my undivided attention to it, and then be furnished with the means of making known the truth of the gospel." While at the Cape, Livingstone had heard something of a fresh-water lake ('Ngami) which all the missionaries were eager to see. If only they would give him a month or two to learn the colloquial language, he said they might spare themselves the pains of being "the first in at the death." It is interesting to remark further that, in this first journey, science had begun to receive its share of attention. He is already bent on making a collection for the use of Professor Owen[19], and is enthusiastic in describing some agatized trees and other curiosities which he met with.
[Footnote 19: This collection never reached its destination.]
Writing to his parents from Port Elizabeth, 19th May, 1841, he gives his first impressions of Africa. He had been at a station called Hankey:
"The scenery was very fine. The white sand in some places
near the beach drifted up in large wreaths exactly like snow.
One might imagine himself in Scotland were there not a hot
sun overhead. The woods present an aspect of strangeness, for
everywhere the eye meets the foreign-looking tree from which
the bitter aloes is extracted, popping up its head among the
mimosa bushes and stunted acacias. Beautiful humming-birds
fly about in great numbers, sucking the nectar from the
flowers, which are in great abundance and very beautiful. I
was much pleased with my visit to Hankey.... The state of the
people presents so many features of interest, that one may
talk about it and convey some idea of what the Gospel has
done. The full extent of the benefit received can, however,
be understood only by those who witness it in contrast with
other places that have not been so highly favored. My
expectations have been far exceeded. Everything I witnessed
surpassed my hopes, and if this one station is a fair sample
of the whole, the statements of the missionaries with regard
to their success are far within the mark. The Hottentots of
Hankey appear to be in a state similar to that of our
forefathers in the days immediately preceding the times of
the Covenanters. They have a prayer-meeting every morning at
four o'clock, _and well attended_. They began it during a
visitation of measles among them, and liked it so much that
they still continue."
He goes on to say that as the natives had no clocks or watches, mistakes sometimes occurred about ringing the bell for this meeting, and sometimes the people found themselves assembled at twelve or one o'clock instead of four. The welcome to the missionaries (their own missionary was returning from the Cape with Livingstone) was wonderful. Muskets were fired at their approach, then big guns; and then men, women, and children rushed at the top of their speed to shake hands and welcome them. The missionary had lost a little boy, and out of respect each of the people had something black on his head. Both public worship and family worship were very interesting, the singing of hymns being very beautiful. The bearing of these Christianized Hottentots was in complete contrast to that of a Dutch family whom he visited as a medical man one Sunday. There was no Sunday; the man's wife and daughters were dancing before the house, while a black played the fiddle.
His instructions from the Directors were to go to Kuruman, remain there till Mr. Moffat should return from England, and turn his attention to the formation of a new station farther north, awaiting more specific instructions, He arrived at Kuruman on the 31st July, 1841, but no instructions had come from the Directors; his sphere of work was quite undetermined, and he began to entertain the idea of going to Abyssinia. There could be no doubt that a Christian missionary was needed there, for the country had none; but if he should go, he felt that probably he would never return. In writing of this to his friend Watt, he used words almost prophetic: "Whatever way my life may be spent so as but to promote the glory of our gracious God, I feel anxious to do it.... _My life, may be spent as profitably as a pioneer as in any other way_."
In his next letter to the London Missionary Society, dated Kuruman, 23d September, 1841, he gives his impressions of the field, and unfolds an idea which took hold of him at the very beginning, and never lost its grip. It was, that there was not population enough about the South to justify a concentration of missionary labor there, and that the policy of the Society ought to be one of expansion, moving out far and wide wherever there was an opening, and making the utmost possible use of native agency, in order to cultivate so wide a field. In England he had thought that Kuruman might be made a great missionary institute, whence the beams of divine truth might diverge in every direction, through native agents supplied from among the converts; but since he came to the spot he had been obliged to abandon that notion; not that the Kuruman mission had not been successful, or that the attendance at public worship was small, but simply because the population was meagre, and seemed more likely to become smaller than larger. The field from which native agents might be drawn was thus too small. Farther north there was a denser population. It was therefore his purpose, along with a brother missionary, to make an early journey to the interior, and bury himself among the natives, to learn their language, and slip into their modes of thinking and feeling. He purposed to take with him two of the best qualified native Christians of Kuruman, to plant them as teachers in some promising locality; and in case any difficulty should arise about their maintenance, he offered, with characteristic generosity, to defray the cost of one of them from his own resources.
Accordingly, in company with a brother missionary from Kuruman, a journey of seven hundred miles was performed before the end of the year, leading chiefly to two results: in the first place, a strong confirmation of his views on the subject of native agency; and in the second place, the selection of a station, two hundred and fifty miles north of Kuruman, as the most suitable for missionary operations. Seven hundred miles traveled over _more Africano_ seemed to indicate a vast territory; but on looking at it on the map, it was a mere speck on the continent of heathenism. How was that continent ever to be evangelized? He could think of no method except an extensive method of native agency. And the natives, when qualified, were admirably qualified. Their warm, affectionate manner of dealing with their fellow-men, their ability to present the truth to their minds freed from the strangeness of which foreigners could not divest it, and the eminent success of those employed by the brethren of Griqua Town, were greatly in their favor. Two natives had likewise been employed recently by the Kuruman Mission, and these had been highly efficient and successful. If the Directors would allow him to employ more of these, conversions would increase in a compound ratio, and regions not yet explored by Europeans would soon be supplied with the bread of life.
In regard to the spot selected for a mission, there were many considerations in its favor. In the immediate neighborhood of Kuruman the chiefs hated the gospel, because it deprived them of their supernumerary wives. In the region farther north, this feeling had not yet established itself; on the contrary, there was an impression favorable to Europeans, and a desire for their alliance. These Bechuana tribes had suffered much from the marauding invasions of their neighbors; and recently, the most terrible marauder of the country, Mosilikatse, after being driven westward by the Dutch Boers, had taken up his abode on the banks of a central lake, and resumed his raids, which were keeping the whole country in alarm. The more peaceful tribes had heard of the value of the white man, and of the weapons by which a mere handful of whites had repulsed hordes of marauders. They were therefore disposed to welcome the stranger, although this state of feeling could not be relied on as sure to continue, for Griqua hunters and individuals from tribes hostile to the gospel were moving northward, and not only circulating rumors unfavorable to missionaries, but by their wicked lives introducing diseases previously unknown. If these regions, therefore, were to be taken possession of by the gospel, no time was to be lost. For himself, Livingstone had no hesitation in going to reside in the midst of these savages, hundreds of miles away from civilization, not merely for a visit, but, if necessary, for the whole of his life.
In writing to his sisters after this journey (8th December, 1841), he gives a graphic account of the country, and some interesting notices of the people:
"Janet, I suppose, will feel anxious to know what our dinner
was. We boiled a piece of the flesh of a rhinoceros which was
toughness itself, the night before. The meat was our supper,
and porridge made of Indian corn-meal and gravy of the meat
made a very good dinner next day. When about 150 miles from
home we came to a large village. The chief had sore eyes; I
doctored them, and he fed us pretty well with milk and beans,
and sent a fine buck after me as a present. When we had got
about ten or twelve miles on the way, a little girl about
eleven or twelve years of age came up and sat down under my
wagon, having run away for the purpose of coming with us to
Kuruman. She had lived with a sister whom she had lately lost
by death. Another family took possession of her for the
purpose of selling her as soon as she was old enough for a
wife. But not liking this, she determined to run away from
them and come to some friends near Kuruman. With this
intention she came, and thought of walking all the way behind
my wagon. I was pleased with the determination of the little
creature, and gave her some food. But before we had remained
long there, I heard her sobbing violently, as if her heart
would break. On looking round, I observed the cause. A man
with a gun had been sent after her, and he had just arrived.
I did not know well what to do now, but I was not in
perplexity long, for Pomare, a native convert who accompanied
us, started up and defended her cause. He being the son of a
chief, and possessed of some little authority, managed the
matter nicely. She had been loaded with beads to render her
more attractive, and fetch a higher price. These she stripped
off and gave to the man, and desired him to go away. I
afterward took measures for hiding her, and though fifty men
had come for her, they would not have got her."
The story reads like an allegory or a prophecy. In the person of the little maid, oppressed and enslaved Africa comes to the good Doctor for protection; instinctively she knows she may trust him; his heart opens at once, his ingenuity contrives a way of protection and deliverance, and he will never give her up. It is a little picture of Livingstone's life.
In fulfillment of a promise made to the natives in the interior that he would return to them, Livingstone set out on a second tour into the interior of the Bechuana country on 10th February, 1842. His objects were, first, to acquire the native language more perfectly, and second, by suspending his medical practice, which had become inconveniently large at Kuruman, to give his undivided attention to the subject of native agents. He took with him two native members of the Kuruman church, and two other natives for the management of the wagon.
The first person that specially engaged his interest in this journey was a chief of the name of Bubi, whose people were Bakwains. With him he stationed one of the native agents as a teacher, the chief himself collecting the children and supplying them with food. The honesty of the people was shown in their leaving untouched all the contents of his wagon, though crowds of them visited it. Livingstone was already acquiring a powerful influence, both with chiefs and people, the result of his considerate and conciliatory treatment of both. He had already observed the failure of some of his brethren to influence them, and his sagacity had discerned the cause. His success in inducing Bubi's people to dig a canal was contrasted in a characteristic passage of a private letter, with the experience of others.
"The doctor and the rainmaker among these people are one and
the same person. As I did not like to be behind my
professional brethren, I declared I could make rain too, not,
however, by enchantments like them, but by leading out their
river for irrigation. The idea pleased mightily, and to work
we went instanter. Even the chief's own doctor is at it, and
works like a good fellow, laughing heartily at the cunning of
the 'foreigner' who can make rain so. We have only one spade,
and this is without a handle; and yet by means of sticks
sharpened to a point we have performed all the digging of a
pretty long canal. The earth was lifted out in 'gowpens' and
carried to the huge dam we have built in karosses (skin
cloaks), tortoise-shells, or wooden bowls. We intended
nothing of the ornamental in it, but when we came to a huge
stone, we were forced to search for a way round it. The
consequence is, it has assumed a beautifully serpentine
appearance. This is, I believe, the first instance in which
Bechuanas have been got to work without wages. It was with
the utmost difficulty the earlier missionaries got them to do
anything. The missionaries solicited their permission to do
what they did, and this was the very way to make them show
off their airs, for they are so disobliging; if they perceive
any one in the least dependent upon them, they immediately
begin to tyrannize. A more mean and selfish vice certainly
does not exist in the world. I am trying a different plan
with them. I make my presence with any of them a favor, and
when they show any impudence, I threaten to leave them, and
if they don't amend, I put my threat into execution. By a
bold, free course among them I have had not the least
difficulty in managing the most fierce. They are in one sense
fierce, and in another the greatest cowards in the world. A
kick would, I am persuaded, quell the courage of the bravest
of them. Add to this the report which many of them verily
believe, that I am a great wizard, and you will understand
how I can with ease visit any of them. Those who do not love,
fear me, and so truly in their eyes am I possessed of
supernatural power, some have not hesitated to affirm I am
capable of even raising the dead! The people of a village
visited by a French brother actually believed it. Their
belief of my powers, I suppose, accounts, too, for the fact
that I have not missed a single article either from the house
or wagon since I came among them, and this, although all my
things lay scattered about the room, while crammed with
patients."
It was unfortunate that the teacher whom Livingstone stationed with Bubi's people was seized with a violent fever, so that he was obliged to bring him away. As for Bubi himself, he was afterward burned to death by an explosion of gunpowder, which one of his sorcerers was trying, by means of burnt roots, to _un_-bewitch.
In advancing, Livingstone had occasion to pass through a part of the great Kalahari desert, and here he met with Sekomi, a chief of the Bamangwato, from whom also he received a most friendly reception. The ignorance of this tribe he found to be exceedingly great:
"Their conceptions of the Deity are of the most vague and
contradictory nature, and the name of God conveys no more to
their understanding than the idea of superiority. Hence they
do not hesitate to apply the name to their chiefs. I was
every day shocked by being addressed by that title, and
though it as often furnished me with a text from which to
tell them of the only true God and Jesus Christ, whom he has
sent, yet it deeply pained me, and I never felt so fully
convinced of the lamentable detoriation of our species. It is
indeed a mournful truth that man has become like the beasts
that perish."
The place was greatly infested by lions, and during Livingstone's visit an awful occurrence took place that made a great impression on him:
"A woman was actually devoured in her garden during my visit,
and that so near the town that I had frequently walked past
it. It was most affecting to hear the cries of the orphan
children of this woman. During the whole day after her death
the surrounding rocks and valleys rang and re-echoed with
their bitter cries. I frequently thought as I listened to the
loud sobs, painfully indicative of the sorrows of those who
have no hope, that if some of our churches could have heard
their sad wailings, it would have awakened the firm
resolution to do more for the heathen than they have done."
Poor Sekomi advanced a new theory of regeneration which Livingstone was unable to work out:
"On one occasion Sekomi, having sat by me in the hut for some
time in deep thought, at length addressing me by a pompous
title said, 'I wish you would change my heart. Give me
medicine to change it, for it is proud, proud and angry,
angry always.' I lifted up the Testament and was about to
tell him of the only way in which the heart can be changed,
but he interrupted me by saying, 'Nay, I wish to have it
changed by medicine, to drink and have it changed at once,
for it is always very proud and very uneasy, and continually
angry with some one.' He then rose and went away."
A third tribe visited at this time was the Bakaa, and here, too, Livingstone was able to put in force his wonderful powers of management. Shortly before, the Bakaa had murdered a trader and his company. When Livingstone appeared their consciences smote them, and, with the exception of the chief and two attendants, the whole of the people fled from his presence. Nothing could allay their terror, till, a dish of porridge having been prepared, they saw Livingstone partake of it along with themselves without distrust. When they saw him lie down and fall asleep they were quite at their ease. Thereafter he began to speak to them:
"I had more than ordinary pleasure in telling these murderers
of the precious blood which cleanseth from all sin. I bless
God that He has conferred on one so worthless the
distinguished privilege and honor of being the first
messenger of mercy that ever trod these regions. Its being
also the first occasion on which I had ventured to address a
number of Bechuanas in their own tongue without reading it,
renders it to myself one of peculiar interest. I felt more
freedom than I had anticipated, but I have an immense amount
of labor still before me, ere I can call myself a master of
Sichuana. This journey discloses to me that when I have
acquired the Batlapi, there is another and perhaps more
arduous task to be accomplished in the other dialects, but by
the Divine assistance I hope I shall be enabled to conquer.
When I left the Bakaa, the chief sent his son with a number
of his people to see me safe part of the way to the
Makalaka."
On his way home, in passing through Bubi's country, he was visited by sixteen of the people of Sebehwe, a chief who had successfully withstood Mosilikatse, but whose cowardly neighbors, under the influence of jealousy, had banded together to deprive him of what they had not had the courage to defend. Consequently he had been driven into the sandy desert, and his object in sending to Livingstone was to solicit his advice and protection, as he wished to come out, in order that his people might grow corn, etc. Sebehwe, like many of the other people of the country, had the notion that if he got a single white man to live with him, he would be quite secure. It was no wonder that Livingstone early acquired the strong conviction that if missions could only be scattered over Africa, their immediate effect in promoting the tranquillity of the continent could hardly be over-estimated.
We have given these details somewhat fully, because they show that before he had been a year in the country Livingstone had learned how to rule the Africans. From the very first, his genial address, simple and fearless manner, and transparent kindliness formed a spell which rarely failed. He had great faith in the power of humor. He was never afraid of a man who had a hearty laugh. By a playful way of dealing with the people, he made them feel at ease with him, and afterward he could be solemn enough when the occasion required. His medical knowledge helped him greatly; but for permanent influence all would have been in vain if he had not uniformly observed the rules of justice, good feeling, and good manners. Often ha would say that the true road to influence was patient continuance in well-doing. It is remarkable that, from the very first, he should have seen the charm of that method which he employed so successfully to the end.
In the course of this journey, Livingstone was within ten days of Lake 'Ngami, the lake of which he had heard at the Cape, and which he actually discovered in 1849; and he might have discovered it now, had discovery alone been his object. Part of his journey was performed on foot, in consequence of the draught oxen having become sick:
"Some of my companions," he says in his first book, "who had
recently joined us, and did not know that I understood a
little of their speech, were overheard by me discussing my
appearance and powers: 'He is not strong, he is quite slim,
and only appears stout because he puts himself in those bags
(trousers); he will soon knock up.' This caused my Highland
blood to rise, and made me despise the fatigue of keeping
them all at the top of their speed for days together, and
until I heard them expressing proper opinions of my
pedestrian powers."
We have seen how full Livingstone's heart was of the missionary spirit; how intent he was on making friends of the natives, and how he could already preach in one dialect, and was learning another. But the activity of his mind enabled him to give attention at the same time to other matters. He was already pondering the structure of the great African Continent, and carefully investigating the process of desiccation that had been going on for a long time, and had left much uncomfortable evidence of its activity in many parts. In the desert, he informs his friend Watt that no fewer than thirty-two edible roots and forty-three fruits grew without cultivation. He had the rare faculty of directing his mind at the full stretch of its power to one great object, and yet, apparently without effort, giving minute and most careful attention to many other matters,--all bearing, however, on the same great end.
A very interesting letter to Dr. Risdon Bennett, dated Kuruman, 18th December, 1841, gives an account of his first year's work from the medical and scientific point of view. First, he gives an amusing picture of the Bechuana chiefs, and then some details of his medical practice:
The people are all under the feudal system of government, the
chieftainship is hereditary, and although the chief is
usually the greatest ass, and the most insignificant of the
tribe in appearance, the people pay a deference to him which
is truly astonishing.... I feel the benefit often of your
instructions, and of those I got through your kindness. Here
I have an immense practice. I have patients now under
treatment who have walked 130 miles for my advice; and when
these go home, others will come for the same purpose. This is
the country for a medical man if he wants a large practice,
but he must leave fees out of the question! The Bechuanas
have a great deal more disease than I expected to find among
a savage nation; but little else can be expected, for they
are nearly naked, and endure the scorching heat of the day
and the chills of the night in that condition. Add to this
that they are absolutely omnivorous. Indigestion, rheumatism,
opthalmia are the prevailing diseases.... Many very bad cases
were brought to me, sometimes, when traveling, my wagon was
quite besieged by their blind and halt and lame. What a
mighty effect would be produced if one of the seventy
disciples were among them to heal them all by a word! The
Bechuanas resort to the Bushmen and the poor people that live
in the desert for doctors. The fact of my dealing in that
line a little is so strange, and now my fame has spread far
and wide. But if one of Christ's apostles were here, I should
think he would be very soon known all over the continent to
Abyssinia. The great deal of work I have had to do in
attending to the sick has proved beneficial to me, for they
make me speak the language perpetually, and if I were
inclined to be lazy in learning it, they would prevent me
indulging the propensity. And they are excellent patients,
too, besides. There is no wincing; everything prescribed is
done _instanter_. Their only failing is that they become
tired of a long course. But in any operation, even the women
sit unmoved. I have been quite astonished again and again at
their calmness. In cutting out a tumor, an inch in diameter,
they sit and talk as if they felt nothing. 'A man like me
never cries,' they say, 'they are children that cry.' And it
is a fact that the men never cry. But when the Spirit of God
works on their minds they cry most piteously. Sometimes in
church they endeavor to screen themselves from the eyes of
the preacher by hiding under the forms or covering their
heads with their karosses as a remedy against their
convictions. And when they find that won't do, they rush out
of the church and run with all their might, crying as if the
hand of death were behind them. One would think, when they
got away, there they would remain; but no, there they are in
their places at the very next meeting. It is not to be
wondered at that they should exhibit agitations of body when
the mind is affected, as they are quite unaccustomed to
restrain their feelings. But that the hardened beings should
be moved mentally at all is wonderful indeed. If you saw them
in their savage state you would feel the force of this
more.... _N.B._--I have got for Professor Owen specimens of
the incubated ostrich in abundance, and am waiting for an
opportunity to transmit the box to the college. I tried to
keep for you some of the fine birds of the interior, but the
weather was so horribly hot they were putrid in a few hours.
When he returned to Kuruman in June, 1842, he found that no instructions had as yet come from the Directors as to his permanent quarters. He was preparing for another journey when news arrived that contrary to his advice, Sebehwe had left the desert where he was encamped, had been treacherously attacked by the chief Mahura, and that many of his people, including women and children, had been savagely murdered. What aggravated the case was that several native Christians from Kuruman had been at the time with Sebehwe, and that these were accused of having acted treacherously by him. But now no native would expose himself to the expected rage of Sebehwe, so that for want of attendants Livingstone could not go to him. He was obliged to remain for some months about Kuruman, itinerating to the neighboring tribes, and taking part in the routine work of the station: that is to say preaching, printing, building a chapel at an out-station, prescribing for the sick, and many things else that would have been intolerable, he said, to a man of "clerical dignity."
He was able to give his father a very encouraging report of the mission work (July 13, 1842): "The work of God goes on here notwithstanding all our infirmities. Souls are gathered in continually, and sometimes from among those you would never have expected to see turning to the Lord. Twenty-four were added to the Church last month, and there are several inquirers. At Motito, a French station about thirty-three miles northeast of this, there has been an awakening, and I hope much good will result. I have good news, too, from Rio de Janeiro. The Bibles that have been distributed are beginning to cause a stir."
The state of the country continued so disturbed that it was not till February, 1843, that he was able to set out for the village where Sebehwe had taken up his residence with the remains of his tribe. This visit he undertook at great personal risk. Though looking at first very ill-pleased, Sebehwe treated him in a short time in a most friendly way, and on the Sunday after his arrival, sent a herald to proclaim that on that day nothing should be done but pray to God and listen to the words of the foreigner. He himself listened with great attention while Livingstone told him of Jesus and the resurrection, and the missionary was often interrupted by the questions of the chief. Here, then, was another chief pacified, and brought under the preaching of the gospel.
Livingstone then passed on to the country of the Bakhatla, where he had purposed to erect his mission-station. The country was fertile, and the people industrious, and among other industries was an iron manufactory, to which as a bachelor he got admission, whereas married men were wont to be excluded, through fear that they would bewitch the iron! When he asked the chief if he would like him to come and be his missionary, he held up his hands and said, "Oh, I shall dance if you do; I shall collect all my people to hoe for you a garden, and you will get more sweet reed and corn than myself." The cautious Directors at home, however, had sent no instructions as to Livingstone's station, and he could only say to the chief that he would tell them of his desire for a missionary.
At a distance of five days' journey beyond the Bakhatla was situated the village of Sechéle, chief of the Bakwains, afterward one of Livingstone's greatest friends. Sechéle had been enraged at him for not visiting him the year before, and threatened him with mischief. It happened that his only child was ill when the missionary arrived, and also the child of one of his principal men. Livingstone's treatment of both was successful, and Sechéle had not an angry word. Some of his questions struck the heart of the missionary:
"'Since it is true that all who die unforgiven are lost
forever, why did your nation not come to tell us of it before
now? My ancestors are all gone, and none of them knew
anything of what you tell me. How is this?' I thought
immediately," says Livingstone, "of the guilt of the Church,
but did not confess. I told him multitudes in our own country
were like himself, so much in love with their sins. My
ancestors had spent a great deal of time in trying to
persuade them, and yet after all many of them by refusing
were lost. We now wish to tell all the world about a Saviour,
and if men did not believe, the guilt would be entirely
theirs. Sechéle has been driven from another part of his
country from that in which he was located last year, and so
has Bubi, so that the prospects I had of benefiting them by
native teachers are for the present darkened."
Among other things that Livingstone found time for in these wanderings among strange people, was translating hymns into the Sichuana language. Writing to his father (Bakwain Country, 21st March, 1843), he says:
"Janet may be pleased to learn that I am become a poet, or
rather a poetaster, in Sichuana. Half a dozen of my hymns
were lately printed in a collection of the French brethren.
One of them is a translation of 'There is a fountain filled
with blood;' another, 'Jesus shall reign where'er the sun;'
others are on 'The earth being filled with the glory of the
Lord,' 'Self-dedication,' 'Invitation to Sinners,' 'The soul
that loves God finds him everywhere.' Janet may try to make
English ones on these latter subjects if she can, and Agnes
will doubtless set them to music on the same condition. I do
not boast of having done this, but only mention it to let you
know that I am getting a little better fitted for the great
work of a missionary, that your hearts may be drawn out to
more prayer for the success of the gospel proclaimed by my
feeble lips."
Livingstone was bent on advancing in the direction of the country of the Matebele and their chief Mosilikatse, but the dread of that terrible warrior prevented him from getting Bakwains to accompany him, and being thus unable to rig out a wagon, he was obliged to travel on oxback. In a letter to Dr. Risdon Bennett (30th June, 1843), he gives a lively description of this mode of traveling: "It is rough traveling, as you can conceive. The skin is so loose there is no getting one's great-coat, which has to serve both as saddle and blanket, to stick on; and then the long horns in front, with which he can give one a punch in the abdomen if he likes, make us sit as bolt upright as dragoons. In this manner I traveled more than 400 miles." Visits to some of the villages of the Bakalahari gave him much pleasure. He was listened to with great attention, and while sitting by their fires and listening to their traditionary tales, he intermingled the story of the Cross with their conversation, and it was by far the happiest portion of his journey. The people were a poor, degraded, enslaved race, who hunted for other tribes to procure them skins; they were far from wells, and had their gardens far from their houses, in order to have their produce safe from the chiefs who visited them.
Coming on to his old friends the Bakaa, he found them out of humor with him, accusing him of having given poison to a native who had been seized with fever on occasion of his former visit. Consequently he could get little or nothing to eat, and had to content himself, as he wrote to his friends, with the sumptuous feasts of his imagination. With his usual habit of discovering good in all his troubles, however, he found cause for thankfulness at their stinginess, for in coming down a steep pass, absorbed with the questions which the people were putting to him, he forgot where he was, lost his footing, and, striking his hand between a rock and his Bible which he was carrying, he suffered a compound fracture of his finger. His involuntary low diet saved him from taking fever, and the finger was healing favorably, when a sudden visit in the middle of the night from a lion, that threw them all into consternation, made him, without thinking, discharge his revolver at the visitor, and the recoil hurt him more than the shot did the lion. It rebroke his finger, and the second fracture was worse than the first. "The Bakwains," he says, "who were most attentive to my wants during the whole journey of more than 400 miles, tried to comfort me when they saw the blood again flowing, by saying, 'You have hurt yourself, but you have redeemed us: henceforth we will only swear by you.' Poor creatures," he writes to Dr. Bennett, "I wished they had felt gratitude for the blood that was shed for their precious souls."
Returning to Kuruman from this journey, in June, 1843, Livingstone was delighted to find at length a letter from the Directors of the Society authorizing the formation of a settlement in the regions beyond. He found another letter that greatly cheered him, from a Mrs. M'Robert, the wife of art Independent minister at Cambuslang (near Blantyre), who had collected and now sent him £12 for a native agent, and was willing, on the part of some young friends, to send presents of clothing for the converts. In acknowledging this letter, Livingstone poured out his very heart, so full was he of gratitude and delight. He entreated the givers to consider Mebalwe as their own agent, and to concentrate their prayers upon him, for prayer, he thought, was always more efficacious when it could be said, "One thing have I desired of the Lord." As to the present of clothing, he simply entreated his friends to send nothing of the kind; such things demoralized the recipients, and bred endless jealousies. If he were allowed to charge something for the clothes, he would be pleased to have them, but on no other terms.
Writing to the Secretary of the Society, Rev. A. Tidman (24th June, 1843), and referring to the past success of the Mission in the nearer localities, he says: "If you could realize this fact as fully as those on the spot can, you would be able to enter into the feelings of irrepressible delight with which I hail the decision of the Directors that we go forward to the dark interior. May the Lord enable me to consecrate my whole being to the glorious work!"
In this communication to the Directors Livingstone modestly, but frankly and firmly, gives them his mind on some points touched on in their letter to him. In regard to his favorite measure--native agency--he is glad that a friend has remitted money for the employment of one agent, and that others have promised the means of employing other two. On another subject he had a communication to make to them which evidently cost him no ordinary effort. In his more private letters to his friends, from an early period after entering Africa, he had expressed himself very freely, almost contemptuously, on the distribution of the laborers. There was far too much clustering about the Cape Colony, and the district immediately beyond it, and a woeful slowness to strike out with the fearless chivalry that became missionaries of the Cross, and take possession of the vast continent beyond. All his letters reveal the chafing of his spirit with this confinement of evangelistic energy in the face of so vast a field--this huddling together of laborers in sparsely peopled districts, instead of sending them forth over the whole of Africa, India, and China, to preach the gospel to every creature. He felt deeply that both the Church at home, and many of the missionaries on the spot, had a poor conception of missionary duty, out of which came little faith, little effort, little expectation, with a miserable tendency to exaggerate their own evils and grievances, and fall into paltry squabbles which would not have been possible if they had been fired with the ambition to win the world for Christ.
But what it was a positive relief for him to whisper in the ear of an intimate friend, it demanded the courage of a hero to proclaim to the Directors of a great Society. It was like impugning their whole policy and arraigning their wisdom. But Livingstone could not say one thing in private and another in public. Frankly and fearlessly he proclaimed his views:
"The conviction to which I refer is that a much larger share
of the benevolence of the Church and of missionary exertion
is directed into this country than the amount of population,
as compared with other countries, and the success attending
those efforts, seem to call for. This conviction has been
forced upon me, both by a personal inspection, more extensive
than that which has fallen to the lot of any other, either
missionary or trader, and by the sentiments of other
missionaries who have investigated the subject according to
their opportunities. In reference to the population, I may
mention that I was led in England to believe that the
population of the interior was dense, and now since I have
come to this country I have conversed with many, both of our
Society and of the French, and none of them would reckon up
the number of 30,000 Bechuanas."
He then proceeds to details in a most characteristic way, giving the number of huts in every village, and being careful in every case, as his argument proceeded on there being a small population, rather to overstate than understate the number:
"In view of these facts and the confirmation of them I have
received from both French and English brethren, computing the
population much below what I have stated, I confess I feel
grieved to hear of the arrival of new missionaries. Nor am I
the only one who deplores their appointment to this country.
Again and again have I been pained at heart to hear the
question put, Where will these new brethren find fields of
labor in this country? Because I know that in India or China
there are fields large enough for all their energies. I am
very far from undervaluing the success which has attended the
labors of missionaries in this land. No! I gratefully
acknowledge the wonders God hath wrought, and I feel that the
salvation of one soul is of more value than all the effort
that has been expended; but we are to seek the field where
there is a possibility that most souls will be converted, and
it is this consideration which makes me earnestly call the
attention of the Directors to the subject of statistics. If
these were actually returned--and there would be very little
difficulty in doing so--it might, perhaps, be found that
there is not a country better supplied with missionaries in
the world, and that in proportion to the number of agents
compared to the amount of population, the success may be
inferior to most other countries where efforts have been
made."
Finding that a brother missionary was willing to accompany him to the station he had fixed on among the Bakhatlas, and enable him to set to work with the necessary arrangements, Livingstone set out with him in the beginning of August, 1843, and arrived at his destination after a fortnight's journey. Writing to his family, "in sight of the hills of Bakhatla," August 21st, 1843, he says: "We are in company with a party of three hunters: one of them from the West Indies, and two from India--Mr. Pringle from Tinnevelly, and Captain Steel of the Coldstream Guards, aide-de-camp to the Governor of Madras.... The Captain is the politest of the whole, well versed in the classics, and possessed of much general knowledge." Captain Steele, now General Sir Thomas Steele, proved one of Livingstone's best and most constant friends. In one respect the society of gentlemen who came to hunt would not have been sought by Livingstone, their aims and pursuits being so different from his; but he got on with them wonderfully. In some instances these strangers were thoroughly sympathetic, but not in all. When they were not sympathetic on religion, he had a strong conviction that his first duty as a servant of Christ was to commend his religion by his life and spirit--by integrity, civility, kindness, and constant readiness to deny himself in obliging others; having thus secured, their esteem and confidence, he would take such quiet opportunities as presented themselves to get near their consciences on his Master's behalf. He took care that there should be no moving about on the day of rest, and that the outward demeanor of all should be befitting a Christian company. For himself, while he abhorred the indiscriminate slaughter of animals for mere slaughter's sake, he thought well of the chase as a means of developing courage, promptness of action in time of danger, protracted endurance of hunger and thirst, determination in the pursuit of an object, and other qualities befitting brave and powerful men. The respect and affection with which he inspired the gentlemen who were thus associated with him was very remarkable. Doubtless, with his quick apprehension, he learned a good deal from their society of the ways and feelings of a class with whom hitherto he had hardly ever been in contact. The large resources with which they were furnished, in contrast to his own, excited no feeling of envy, nor even a desire to possess their ample means, unless he could have used them to extend missionary operations; and the gentlemen themselves would sometimes remark that the missionaries were more comfortable than they. Though they might at times spend thousands of pounds where Livingstone did not spend as many pence, and would be provided with horses, servants, tents, and stores, enough to secure comfort under almost any conditions, they had not that key to the native heart and that power to command the willing services of native attendants which belonged so remarkably to the missionary. "When we arrive at a spot where we intend to spend the night," writes Livingstone to his family, "all hands immediately unyoke the oxen. Then one or two of the company collect wood; one of us strikes up a fire, another gets out the water-bucket and fills the kettle; a piece of meat is thrown on the fire, and if we have biscuits, we are at our coffee in less than half an hour after arriving. Our friends, perhaps, sit or stand shivering at their fire for two or three hours before they get their things ready, and are glad occasionally of a cup of coffee from us."
The first act of the missionaries on arriving at their destination was to have an interview with the chief, and ask whether he desired a missionary. Having an eye to the beads, guns, and other things, of which white men seemed always to have an ample store, the chief and his men gave them a cordial welcome, and Livingstone next proceeded to make a purchase of land. This, like Abraham with the sons of Heth, he insisted should be done in legal form, and for this purpose he drew up a written contract to which, after it was fully explained to them, both parties attached their signatures or marks. They then proceeded to the erection of a hut fifty feet by eighteen, not getting much help from the Bakhatlas, who devolved such labors on the women, but being greatly helped by the native deacon, Mebalwe. All this Livingstone and his companion had done on their own responsibility, and in the hope that the Directors would approve of it. But if they did not, he told them that he was at their disposal "to go anywhere--_provided it be_ FORWARD."
The progress of medical and scientific work during this period is noted in a letter to Dr. Risdon Bennett, dated 30th June, 1843. In addition to full details of the missionary work, this letter enters largely into the state of disease in South Africa, and records some interesting cases, medical and surgical. Still more interesting, perhaps, is the evidence it affords of the place in Livingstone's attention which began to be occupied by three great subjects of which we shall hear much anon--Fever, Tsetse, and "the Lake." Fever he considered the greatest barrier to the evangelization of Africa. Tsetse, an insect like a common fly, destroyed horses and oxen, so that many traders lost literally every ox in their team. As for the Lake, it lay somewhat beyond the outskirts of his new district, and was reported terrible for fever. He heard that Mr. Moffat intended to visit it, but he was somewhat alarmed lest his friend should suffer. It was not Moffat, but Livingstone, however, that first braved the risks of that fever swamp.
A subject of special scientific interest to the missionary during this period was--the desiccation of Africa. On this topic he addressed a long letter to Dr. Buckland in 1843, of which, considerably to his regret, no public notice appears to have been taken, and perhaps the letter never reached him. The substance of this paper may, however, be gathered from a communication subsequently made to the Royal Geographical Society[20] after his first impression had been confirmed by enlarged observation and discovery. Around, and north of Kuruman, he had found many indications of a much larger supply of water in a former age. He ascribed the desiccation to the gradual elevation of the western part of the country. He found traces of a very large ancient river which flowed nearly north and south to a large lake, including the bed of the present Orange River; in fact, he believed that the whole country south of Lake 'Ngami presented in ancient times very much the same appearance as the basin north of that lake does now, and that the southern lake disappeared when a fissure was made in the ridge through which the Orange River now proceeds to the sea. He could even indicate the spot where the river and the lake met, for some hills there had caused an eddy in which was found a mound of calcareous tufa and travertine, full of fossil bones. These fossils he was most eager to examine, in order to determine the time of the change; but on his first visit he had no time, and when he returned, he was suddenly called away to visit a missionary's child, a hundred miles off. It happened that he was never in the same locality again, and had therefore no opportunity to complete his investigation.
[Footnote 20: See Journal, vol. xxvii. p. 356.]
Dr. Livingstone's mind had that wonderful power which belongs to some men of the highest gifts, of passing with the utmost rapidity, not only from subject to subject, but from one mood or key to another entirely different. In a letter to his family, written about this time, we have a characteristic instance. On one side of the sheet is a prolonged outburst of tender Christian love and lamentation over a young attendant who had died of fever suddenly; on the other side, he gives a map of the Bakhatla country with its rivers and mountains, and is quite at home in the geographical details, crowning his description with some sentimental and half-ludicrous lines of poetry. No reasonable man will fancy that in the wailings of his heart there was any levity or want of sincerity. What we are about to copy merits careful consideration: first, as evincing the depth and tenderness of his love for these black savages; next, as showing that it was pre-eminently Christian love, intensified by his vivid view of the eternal world, and belief in Christ as the only Saviour; and, lastly, as revealing the secret of the affection which these poor fellows bore to him in return. The intensity of the scrutiny which he directs on his heart, and the severity of the judgment which he seems to pass on himself, as if he had not done all he might have done for the spiritual good of this young man, show with what intense conscientiousness he tried to discharge his missionary duty:
"Poor Sehamy, where art thou now? Where lodges thy soul
to-night? Didst thou think of what I told thee as thou
turnedst from side to side in distress? I could now do
anything for thee. I could weep for thy soul. But now nothing
can be done. Thy fate is fixed. Oh, am I guilty of the blood
of thy soul, my poor dear Sehamy? If so, how shall I look
upon thee in the judgment? But I told thee of a Saviour;
didst thou think of Him, and did He lead thee through the
dark valley? Did He comfort as He only can? Help me, O Lord
Jesus, to be faithful to every one. Remember me, and let me
not be guilty of the blood of souls. This poor young man was
the leader of the party. He governed the others, and most
attentive he was to me. He anticipated my every want. He kept
the water-calabash at his head at night, and if I awoke, he
was ready to give me a draught immediately. When the meat was
boiled he secured the best portion for me, the best place for
sleeping, the best of everything. Oh, where is he now? He
became ill after leaving a certain tribe, and believed he had
been poisoned. Another of the party and he ate of a certain
dish given them by a woman whom they had displeased, and
having met this man yesterday he said, 'Sehamy is gone to
heaven, and I am almost dead by the poison given us by that
woman.' I don't believe they took any poison, but they do,
and their imaginations are dreadfully excited when they
entertain that belief."
The same letter intimates that in case his family should have arranged to emigrate to America, as he had formerly advised them to do, he had sent home a bill of which £10 was to aid the emigration, and £10 to be spent on clothes for himself. In regard to the latter sum, he now wished them to add it to the other, so that his help might be more substantial; and for himself he would make his old clothes serve for another year. The emigration scheme, which he thought would have added to the comfort of his parents and sisters, was not, however, carried into effect. The advice to his family to emigrate proceeded from deep convictions. In a subsequent letter (4th December, 1850) he writes: "If I could only be with you for a week, you would goon be pushing on in the world. The world is ours. Our Father made it to be inhabited, and many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased. _It will be increased more by emigration than by missionaries._" He held it to be God's wish that the unoccupied parts of the earth should be possessed, and he believed in Christian colonization as a great means of spreading the gospel. We shall see afterward that to plant English and Scotch colonies in Africa became one of his master ideas and favorite schemes.