The Personal Life of David Livingstone Part 8

John and Charles, remember the dream of the sheaves! _I_ descended from kilts and Donald Dhus? Na, na, I won't believe it.

"We have a difficult, difficult field to cultivate here. All I can say is, that I think knowledge is increasing. But for the belief that the Holy Spirit works, and will work for us, I should give up in despair. Remember us in your prayers, that we grow not weary in well-doing. It is hard to work for years with pure motives, and all the time be looked on by most of those to whom our lives are devoted, as having some sinister object in view. Disinterested labor--benevolence--is so out of their line of thought, that many look upon us as having some ulterior object in view. But He who died for us, and whom we ought to copy, did more for us than we can do for any one else. He endured the contradiction of sinners. May we have grace to follow in his steps!'

The third, and at last successful, effort to reach Sebituane was made in April, 1851. Livingstone was again accompanied by his family, and by Mr.

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

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

"The supply of water in the wagons had been wasted by one of our servants, and by the afternoon only a small portion remained for the children. This was a bitterly anxious night; and next morning, the less there was of water, the more thirsty the little rogues became. The idea of their perishing before our eyes was terrible; it would almost have been a relief to me to have been reproached with being the entire cause of the catastrophe, but not one syllable of upbraiding was uttered by their mother, though the tearful eye told the agony within. In the afternoon of the fifth day, to our inexpressible relief, some of the men returned with a supply of that fluid of which we had never before felt the true value."

"No one," he remarks in his Journal, "knows the value of water till be is deprived of it. We never need any spirits to qualify it, or prevent an immense draught of it from doing us harm. I have drunk water swarming with insects, thick with mud, putrid from other mixtures, and no stinted draughts of it either, yet never felt any inconvenience from it."

"My opinion is," he said on another occasion, "that the most severe labors and privations may be undergone without alcoholic stimulus, because those who have endured the most had nothing else but water, and not always enough of that."

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

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

In the _Missionary Travels_ Livingstone has given a full account of Sebituane, chief of the Makololo, "unquestionably the greatest man in all that country"--his remarkable career, his wonderful warlike exploits (for which he could always bring forward justifying reasons), his interesting and attractive character, and wide and powerful influence.

In one thing Sebituane was very like Livingstone himself; he had the art of gaining the affections both of his own people and of strangers. When a party of poor men came to his town to sell hoes or skins, he would sit down among them, talk freely and pleasantly to them, and probably cause some lordly dish to be brought, and give them a feast on it, perhaps the first they had ever shared. Delighted beyond measure with his affability and liberality, they felt their hearts warm toward him; and as he never allowed a party of strangers to go away without giving every one of them--servants and all--a present, his praises were sounded far and wide. "He has a heart! he is wise!" were the usual expressions Livingstone heard before he saw him.

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

"Poor Sebituane, my heart bleeds for thee; and what would I not do for thee now? I will weep for thee till the day of my death. Little didst thou think when, in the visit of the white man, thou sawest the long cherished desires of years accomplished, that the sentence of death had gone forth! Thou thoughtest that thou shouldest procure a weapon from the white man which would be a shield from the attacks of the fierce Matebele; but a more deadly dart than theirs was aimed at thee; and though, thou couldest well ward off a dart--none ever better--thou didst not see that of the king of terrors.

I will weep for thee, my brother, and I will cast forth my sorrows in despair for thy condition! But I know that thou wilt receive no injustice whither thou art gone; 'Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?' I leave thee to Him.

Alas! alas! Sebituane. I might have said more to him. G.o.d forgive me. Free me from blood-guiltiness. If I had said more of death I might have been suspected as having foreseen the event, and as guilty of bewitching him. I might have recommended Jesus and his great atonement more. It is, however, very difficult to break through the thick crust of ignorance which envelops their minds."

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

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

"We thanked G.o.d for permitting us to see this glorious river.

All we said to each other was 'How glorious! how magnificent!

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

variety."

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

The travelers were still a good many days' distance from Ma-mochisane, without whose presence nothing could be settled; but besides, the reedy banks of the rivers were found to be unsuitable for a settlement, and the higher regions were too much exposed to the attacks of Mosilikatse.

Livingstone saw no prospect of obtaining a suitable station, and with great reluctance he made up his mind to retrace the weary road, and return to Kolobeng. The people were very anxious for him to stay, and offered to make a garden for him, and to fulfill Sebituane's promise to give him oxen in return for those killed by the tsetse.

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

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

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

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

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

But to do all this, Livingstone must have had a very clear perception of the course of duty. This is true. But how did he get this? First, his singleness of heart, so to speak, attracted the light: "If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light." Then, he was very clear and very minute in his prayers. Further, he was most careful to scan all the providential indications that might throw light on the Divine will.

And when he had been carried so far on in the line of duty, he had a strong presumption that the line would be continued, and that he would not be called to turn back. It was in front, not in rear, that he expected to find the pillar of cloud and the pillar of fire. In course of time, this hardened into a strong instinctive habit, which almost dispensed with the process of reasoning.

In Dean Stanley's _Sinai and Palestine_ allusion is made to a kindred experience,--that which bore Abraham from Chaldea, Moses from Egypt, and the greater part of the tribes from the comfortable pastures of Gilead and Bashan to the rugged hill-country of Judah and Ephraim.

Notwithstanding all the attractions of the richer countries, they were borne onward and forward, not knowing whither they went; instinctively feeling that they were fulfilling the high purposes to which they were called. In the later part of Livingstone's life, the necessity of going forward to the close of the career that had opened for him seemed to settle the whole question of duty.

But at this earlier stage, he had been conscientiously scrutinizing all that had any bearing on that question; and now that he finds himself close to his home, and can thank G.o.d for the safe confinement of his wife, and the health of the new-born child, he gathers together all the providences that showed that in this journey, which excited such horror even among his best friends, he had after all been following the guidance of his Father. First, in the matter of guides, he had been wonderfully helped, notwithstanding a deep plot to deprive him of any.

Then there was the sickness of Sekomi, whose interest had been secured through his going to see him, and prescribing for him; this had propitiated one of the tribes. The services of Shobo, too, and the selection of the northern route, proposed by Kamati, had been of great use. Their going to Sesheke, and their detention for two months, thus allowing them time to collect information respecting the whole country; the river Chobe not rising at its usual time; the saving of Livingstone's oxen from the tsetse, notwithstanding their detention on the Zouga; his not going with Mr. Oswell to a place where the tsetse destroyed many of the oxen; the better health of Mrs. Livingstone during her confinement than in any previous one; a very opportune present they had got, just before her confinement, of two bottles of wine[33]; the approbation of the Directors, the presentation of a gold watch by Captain Steele, the kind attentions of Mr. Oswell, and the cookery of one of their native servants named George; the recovery of Thomas, whereas at Kuruman a child had been cut off; the commencement of the rains, just as they were leaving the river, and the request of Mr.

Oswell that they should draw upon him for as much money as they should need, were all among the indications that a faithful and protecting Father in heaven had been ordering their path, and would order it in like manner in all time to come.

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

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

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

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

An idea involving issues so vast was fitted to take a right powerful hold on Livingstone's heart, and make him feel that no sacrifice could be too great to be encountered, cheerfully and patiently, for such an end.

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

"You will see by the accompanying sketch-map what an immense region G.o.d in his grace has opened up. If we can enter in and form a settlement, we shall be able in the course of a very few years to put a stop to the slave-trade in that quarter.

It is probable that the mere supply of English manufacturers on Sebituane's part will effect this, for they did not like the slave-trade, and promised to abstain. I think it will be impossible to make a fair commencement unless I can secure two years devoid of family cares. I shall be obliged to go southward, perhaps to the Cape, to have my uvula excised and my arm mended (the latter, if it can be done, only). It has occurred to me that, as we must send our children to England, it would be no great additional expense to send them now along with their mother. This arrangement would enable me to proceed, and devote about two or perhaps three years to this new region; but I must beg your sanction, and if you please let it be given or withheld as soon as you can conveniently, so that it might meet me at the Cape. To orphanize my children will be like tearing out my bowels, but when I can find time to write you fully you will perceive it is the only way, except giving up that region altogether.

"Kuruman will not answer as a residence, nor yet the Colony.

If I were to follow my own inclinations, they would lead me to settle down quietly with the Bakwains, or some other small tribe, and devote some of my time to my children; but _Providence seems to call me to the regions beyond_, and if I leave them anywhere in this country, it will be to let them become heathens. If you think it right to support them, I believe my parents in Scotland would attend to them otherwise."

Continuing the subject in a more leisurely way a few weeks later, he refers to the very great increase of traffic that had taken place since the discovery of Lake 'Ngami two years before; the fondness of the people for European articles; the numerous kinds of native produce besides ivory, such as beeswax, ostrich feathers, etc., of which the natives made little or no use, but which they would take care of if regular trade were established among them. He thought that if traders were to come up the Zambesi and make purchases from the producers they would both benefit themselves and drive the slave-dealer from the market. It might be useful to establish a sanatorium, to which missionaries might come from less healthy districts to recruit. This would diminish the reluctance of missionaries to settle in the interior.

For himself, though he had reared three stations with much bodily labor and fatigue, he would cheerfully undergo much more if a new station would answer such objects. In referring to the countries drained by the Zambesi, he believed he was speaking of a large section of the slave-producing region of Africa. He then went on to say that to a certain extent their hopes had been disappointed; Mr. Oswell had not been able to find a pa.s.sage to the sea, and he had not been able to find a station for missionary work. They therefore returned together. "He a.s.sisted me," adds Livingstone, "in every possible way. May G.o.d reward him!"

In regard to mission work for the future an important question arose, What should be done for the Bakwains? They could not remain at Kolobeng--hunger and the Boers decided that point. Was it not, then, his duty to find and found a new station for them? Dr. Livingstone thought not. He had always told them that he would remain with them only for a few years. One of his great ideas on missions in Africa was that a fair trial should be given to as many places as possible, and if the trial did not succeed the missionaries should pa.s.s on to other tribes. He had a great aversion to the common impression that the less success one had the stronger was one's duty to remain. Missionaries were only too ready to settle down and make themselves as comfortable as possible, whereas the great need was for men to move on, to strike out into the regions beyond, to go into all the world. He had far more sympathy for tribes that had never heard the gospel than for those who had had it for years.

He used to refer to certain tribes near Griqualand that had got a little instruction, but had no stated missionaries; they used to send some of their people to the Griquas to learn what they could, and afterward some others; and these persons, returning, communicated what they knew, till a wonderful measure of knowledge was acquired, and a numerous church was formed. If the seed had once been sown in any place it would not remain dormant, but would excite the desire for further knowledge; and on the whole it would be better for the people to be thrown somewhat on their own resources than to have everything done for them by missionaries from Europe. In regard to the Bakwains, though they had promised well at first, they had not been a very teachable people. He was not inclined to blame them; they had been so pinched by hunger and badgered by the Boers that they could not attend to instruction; or rather, they had too good an excuse for not doing so. "I have much affection for them," he says in his Journal, "and though I pa.s.s from them I do not relinquish the hope that they will yet turn to Him to whose mercy and love they have often been invited. The seed of the living Word will not perish."

The finger of Providence clearly pointed to a region farther north in the country of the Barotse or beyond it, He admitted that there were _pros_ and _cons_ in the case. Against his plan,--some of his brethren did not hesitate to charge him with being actuated by worldly ambition.

This was the more trying, for sometimes he suspected his own motives.

Others dwelt on what was due to his family. Moreover, his own predilections were all for a quiet life. And there was also the consideration, that as the Directors could not well realize the distances he would have to travel before he reached the field, he might appear more as an explorer than a missionary. On the other hand:

"I am conscious," he says, "that though there is much impurity in my motives, they are in the main for the glory of Him to whom I have devoted myself. I never antic.i.p.ated fame from the discovery of the Lake. I cared very little about it, but the sight of the Tamanak'le, and the report of other large rivers beyond, all densely populated, awakened many and enthusiastic feelings.... Then, again, consider the mult.i.tude that in the Providence of G.o.d have been brought to light in the country of Sebituane; the probability that in our efforts to evangelize we shall put a stop to the slave-trade in a large region, and by means of the highway into the North which we have discovered bring unknown nations into the sympathies of the Christian world. If I were to choose my work, it would be to reduce this new language, translate the Bible into it, and be the means of forming a small church.

Let this be accomplished, I think I could then lie down and die contented. Two years' absence will be necessary....

Nothing but a strong conviction that the step will lead to the glory of Christ would make me orphanize my children. Even now my bowels yearn over them. They Will forget me; but I hope when the day of trial comes, I shall not be found a more sorry soldier than those who serve an earthly sovereign.

Should you not feel yourselves justified in incurring the expense of their support in England, I shall feel called upon to renounce the hope of carrying the gospel into that country, and labor among those who live in a more healthy country, viz., the Bakwains. But, stay, I am not sure; so powerfully convinced am I that it is the will of the Lord I should, _I will go, no matter who opposes_; but from you I expect nothing but encouragement. I know you wish as ardently as I can that all the world may be filled with the glory of the Lord. I feel relieved when I lay the whole case before you."

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

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

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