stant my treasure of an apprentice flew to my side, crushed one of my toes under his thick shoe, and compressed his whole volume of voice into a soul-awakening whisper, as he said,

This is him! »

Him! I immediately looked at the object so ungrammatically indicated.

There stood before me a tall, gaunt, sallow-visaged man of forty-five. His eyes were dull, and his jaws were thin. He looked like one who had suffered, whether abroad or at home, much sickness-had exposed an iron frame to severe trials in strong and searching remedies--had borne their effects well, and lived on in hope of a cure. There he stood--who was

he?»

The treasure, in whose eye there was a ray of satisfaction, darted a significant glance at me, which seemed again to say, « This is him,» as he bent forward a little, over the counter, to ascertain the customer's wishes.

8

Young man," said the stranger

His lips were quite dry, and his voice very hollow«Young man, observe me! »

Here he looked intently into the treasure's face, and continued with peculiar impressiveness—

You prepared me some pills lately-I see you have not forgotten-some pills, I say-look, here is the prescription! Ah, you recognise it. Yes, it was you indeed who served me. Pray, mind then what I say. Let me have another box of those pills: exactly, mind, exactly, like the last; for never did I procure pills anywhere that did me half so much good!»

་་

Your story is interesting, said I, encouragingly.

D

I am no judge of that, returned the chemist with a sigh; but it is true. »

(NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.)

MISSIONARY LABOURS AND SCENES

IN SOUTHERN AFRICA.

By Robert Moffat.

:

The grand avenue to the interior of Africa leads from the Cape Colony it is easy of access, and commanded by the British nation. In this opinion, which we have been always disposed to maintain, we are now fully comfirmed, by the perusal of Mr. Moffat's interesting volume. The hard and boundless plains of the Cape Colony, scantily clothed with vegetation, have awakened a roving disposition in their pastoral inhabitants, and taught them how to face all the dangers and difficulties of long journeys. Hence it is, that the traders of the colony think nothing of travelling 1,200 or 1,500 miles into the interior, where they spend a year or more at each visit, bartering with the natives. Nor is this kind of adventure confined to a few; there are, perhaps, not less than 200 persons in the eastern division of the Cape Colony at present engaged in traffic with the interior. But at what distance is the probable limit of these trading journeys? Where will they stop, or how far can they reach? To these interrogatories we can only reply, that at the farthest point hitherto reached by these expeditions (in the vicinity of the southern tropic), there is no visible impediment to their further progress. Open plains, less naked and barren than towards

the south, still invite them onward, and from the natives they uniformly experience friendship and hospitality. Onward, therefore, we doubt not, they will continue to march.

But in the meantime, Christianity and civilization have struck deep root on the southern frontiers of the indigenous nations. The Batlapis, about 150 miles north of the Orange River, are now laying aside their savage manners, and patiently submit to missionary training. They read the Scriptures in their own language-an advantage which they owe chiefly to Mr. Moffat. Now it is observed, that the language of the Batlapis, which is at present taught grammatically at the missionary schools, extends, with slight variations of dialect, for many hundred miles through the interior, and is akin to all the languages of Africa, that of the Hottentots excepted, south of the equator. Indeed, the family of languages here referred to, extends several degrees, probably, beyond the equator in the interior of the continent, and as far as Camaroons on the western coast. In a few years, therefore, we shall have an adult generation of Batlapis trained in the missionary schools, and disposed to associate with Europeans, while their language and traditional acquaintance with native customs, will still enable them to engage in easy intercourse with their wilder brethren. These people, who are great travellers even in their present condition, and have explored the interior some hundred miles beyond the line reached by Europeans, will doubtless derive fresh courage, as well as curiosity, from knowledge, and will effectually aid us in penetrating to the hitherto inaccessible regions of equatorial Africa.

But before we indulge in speculations on the ultimate results of missionary labours in South Africa, we must give some account of their early progress; or rather we must follow the career of Mr. Moffat, from his first entrance into the wilderness, till he succeeded in planting a garden in the midst of it. In 1817, our author commenced teaching among the Namaquas in the desert north of Cape town, and in the following year, removed to the northern side of the Orange River, to the huts of Africaner, a Hottentot chief, once the terror of the Cape farmers. The society of wild Hottentots and

outcast Mulattoes, offers little that is agreeable, and nothing can be more dull and monotonous than the every-day life of the desert. Speaking of a journey in the bush, our author observes:

**

'Some may think that this mode of life was a great sacrifice; but habit makes it much less so than they suppose. It is true, I did feel it a sacrifice to have nothing at all to eat, and to bind the stomach with a thong to prevent the gnawing of hunger; and thus, under these circumstances, to break the bread of eternal life to the perishing heathen. Water was in general very scarce; sometimes in small pools, stagnant, and with a green froth; and more than once we had to dispute with lions the possession of a pool. My meals consisted frequently of a glass of milk in the morning, another at noon, and a third at night, either sweet, sour, or curdled; for the Namaquas had not the art of preparing it in the manner of the Bechuanas, which will afterwards be described. I had frequently pretty long fasts, and have had recourse to the fasting girdle,' as it is called; on more than one occasion after the morning service, I have shouldered my gun, and gone to the plain or the mountain brow in search of something to eat, and, when unsuccessful, have returned, laid down my piece, taken the Word of Life, and addressed my congregation. »

The wild beasts, to be sure, are lively, entertaining creatures, and we occasionally meet with a pleasant anecdote respecting their adventures. Take the following for example:

On our route homeward we halted at a spot where a novel scene once occurred, and which was described by an individual who witnessed it when a boy. Near a very small fountain, which was shown to me, stood a camel-thorn tree (Acacia Giraffæ). It was a stiff tree, about twelve feet high, with a flat, bushy top. Many years ago, the relater, then a boy, was returning to his village, and having turned aside to the fountain for a drink, lay down on the bank, and fell asleep. Being awoke by the piercing rays of the sun, he saw, through the bush behind which he lay, a giraffe browsing at ease on the tender shoots of the tree, and, to his horror, a lion, creeping like a cat, only a dozen yards from him, preparing to pounce on his prey. The lion eyed the giraffe for a few moments, his body gave a shake, and he bounded into the air, to seize the head of the animal, which instantly turned his stately neck, and the lion, missing his grasp, fell on his back in the centre of the mass of thorns, like spikes, and the giraffe bounded over the plain. The boy instantly followed his example, expecting, as a matter of course, that the enraged lion would soon find his way to the earth. Some time afterwards, the

people of the village, who seldom visited that spot, saw the eagles hovering in the air; and as it is almost always a certain sign that the lion has killed game, or some animal is lying dead, they went to the place, and sought in vain, till, coming under the lee of the tree, their olfactory nerves directed them to where the lion lay dead in his thorny bed. I still found some of his bones under the tree, and hair on its branches, to convince me of what I scarcely could have credited. The lion will sometimes manage to mount the back of a giraffe, and, fixing his sharp claws into each shoulder, gnaw away till he reaches the vertebræ of the neck, when both fall; and oft-times the lion is lamed for his trouble. If the giraffe happens to be very strong, he succeeds in bringing his rider to the ground. Among those that we shot on our journey, the healed wounds of the lion's claws on the shoulder, and marks of his teeth on the back of the neck, gave us ocular demonstration that two of them had carried the monarch of the forest on their backs, and yet come off triumphant.»

The great desert situate between the countries of the Namaquas and Bechuanas, has been hitherto always described as impassable. Yet we find that it has been crossed by our author, though, unfortunately, his account of his journey over it is little calculated to satisfy geographical inquiries. Several rivers flow into that desert with a westerly or southerly course, and what becomes of them? Do they reach the Orange River? We may infer, from our author's silence, that they do not; but we should have been better pleased to have had his positive testimony on that point. The following description exhibits to us a total change of scene :—

Our course lay principally on the north side of the Orange River. Though we journeyed on the banks of a river in which there was abundance of water, and though the country was well inhabited, we suffered afflictively from thirst, as well as hunger; few villages being on the north side of the river, along which we travelled. We were sometimes compelled to scramble over rocky passes in the hills, only a fit abode for baboons, which were as plentiful as they were impudent. At other times we had to cross the river, to avoid the mountains on the opposite side, which arose, in the wildest grandeur, from the water's edge. On reaching the waterfalls, we were kindly received and treated by a Coranna chief, called Saul, (to whom I shall have occasion to refer when treating of the Bechuana mission), and there we halted one day. He had visited our station, and felt exceedingly thankful for the kindness I had shown him. I was glad of this renewed opportunity to preach, and he was glad