turer at the outset of his undertaking. But here is the man who has spent long days and nights in such society, and under the pressure of such hardships-who is not dismayed by the apprenticeship he has undergone, but, confirmed now by long experience, and refreshed by communication and sympathy with his Christian brethren at home, resolves again to renew the conflict, and throwing himself upon the gracious providence whose sustaining power he has often so peculiarly proved, ventures fearlessly back to the scene of his former labours-not now, we rejoice to think, a cheerless wilderness, where no Christian heart or brotherly tongue greets his return, but where he has left a colony of Christian converts, who rejoice in him as their father in Christ, and who, whatever may be the love, the enjoyment, or the blessing, that attend his converse in other places, will doubtless surpass all others in the gratitude and affection with which his return among them will be hailed: for there is no human love equal to that with which the soul that is brought to Christ regards the faithful minister who has been the instrument of its salvation. He is there not only the friend but the father of the people; the light of their eyes, the rejoicing of their heart. And sorry as we are part, we cannot but long for the time when they shall again share the much needed benefit of his guidance and direction. And we may be allowed at a time like this, to express corresponding sentiments for the most loved and valued partner of his life, with all its cares, anxieties, and successes. She has been a true partner of his "work of faith and labour of love," in its many varieties. The task of suffering with a beloved object of anxious care, who is exposed to certain and imminent danger, is often not less than that of the party who meets it in his own person. She has had also her peculiar post of suffering, labour, and usefulness. She is a true missionary in her own person, and we may hold it morally impossible that her husband could have gone through exactly the same course of duty if he had not had the support and refreshment of her society. I will not detain you longer from what we all hold to be the peculiar attraction and treat of the evening.

At the close of Mr. Grey's speech, a splendidly bound copy of the Encyclopædia having been placed before the chairman, the latter, addressing Mr. Moffat, spoke as follows:-My dear Friend and Brother,-Through the kindness of the friends who have convened this meeting, it has been devolved upon me to present to you the token of their regard and affection which now lies before me; and it is with greater pleasure than I can express, that I rise to discharge the duty thus laid upon me. Allow me to say, in the outset, that in seeking to convey to you an expression of our regard, we have selected a work which shall at once, by its intrinsic worth, bear some proportion to the esteem of which it is the index, and by its adaptation to the uses of one circumstanced as you are soon to be on your return, shall assist you in the discharge of those important duties which devolve upon you. The value of the Encyclopædia Britannica, as a digest of human knowledge, has been universally acknowledged. One of the first of our living statesmen, and the man of all others who, from his prodigious and varied acquirements in all branches of literature and science, is perhaps the man of his age most competent to speak on such a subject,-I mean Lord Brougham,-has said of this work, "That, without any exception, there had been no compilation offered to the public prepared by such a combination, such a union of the most celebrated literary names of the age they adorned." This valuable work we rejoice to present to you, my dear Sir, in the hope that from it you may derive assistance in the great duties which yet lie before you, and for which, we trust, you will be long spared and blessed of God. As a pioneer in the march of discovery, by which the civilized world is gradually advancing upon the abodes of savageism, you will often be called to researches and to labours not immediately appertaining to your sacred vocation. You will frequently be the first to observe new facts and phenomena in the region of nature, which you will do well to note, and, if possible, communicate to the scientific world at home; for I hold that, next to the great work of conveying to ignorant minds the knowledge of God's word, is the duty of enlarging the sphere within which minds enlightened may observe the variety, and admire the wisdom of God's works, of those works which praise him in all places of his dominion. And in this I trust you will find ample aid from the admirable treatises on science which this work contains, and in which you will find details embracing even the most recent discoveries which the enterprise or the patient thought of phi

losophers has made. You have already done much in training the people of Africa to the habits and conveniences of civilized life. We have listened with deep interest to the accounts you have given on this head. We have sympathized with you and your honoured partner, when we beheld you standing alone, as it were, amidst the degraded, the polluted, the imbruted children of heathenism; not more distinguished from them by the colour of your skin, than by all the habits, tastes, and feelings which led you to loathe the abominations by which you were surrounded, while you pitied the sad fate of those by whom such abominations were loved. We have traced with deep interest the upward progress of these tribes in the wants and in the appliances of civilized life; and as we have seen the roaming savage beginning to awake to a sense of the advantages of settled life, exchanging the war-spear for the mattock, the filthy skin for the comfortable garment, and the precarious pursuits of the chase for the steady produce of agriculture; as we have seen woman raised from the degrading position of a drudge to man's exaction, and a slave to man's passion, to her proper place as the gentle companion, and the sweet helper of man's earthly pilgrimage; as we have looked on the picture you have given us of your station, with its ample garden fenced and stocked, its neat cottages, its workshops resounding, as one may fancy, with the din of labour; its schoolhouse, from which, as we look at it, we almost seem to hear the fond familiar strains of "Auld Lang Syne," to which you have taught the little ones to sing their alphabet; and, above all, its neat and appropriate chapel, shedding a sacred association over the whole, and proclaiming to all observers this all-important truth, that it was not until the gospel changed the hearts of the people that they began to move forward in the career of civilization; when we have seen all this, our heart has rejoiced within us, and we have been ready to say, herein is fulfilled that which is written, "The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them, and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose." But much yet remains for you to accomplish in this department; and in this I trust you will obtain much help from this work. Here you will find treatises on agriculture, horticulture, architecture, and all the arts of social life, by men who are themselves first-rate proficients in the arts on which they write. You have also already accomplished a mighty work, the greatest, perhaps, which any man can accomplish for a people,-in catching "the winged words" of a mere spoken language, and reducing that language under the rules of grammatical order, as well as laying the foundation of a literature for the natives of the Kuruman, by the books you have translated for them. You may have still more to do in this way, and in this I believe you will find much aid from the articles upon the philosophy of language, and the affinities of languages which this work contains. But why should I dilate? there is here a digest of human knowledge, and on few subjects, I believe, will you consult it in vain. May we not indulge the hope, that out of this book immense advantage to Africa may, ere long, spring; that many minds there may, through your instrumentality and that of your colleagues, be brought into contact with the resources of European thought and study, and acquire thence a new impulse to advance, as well as means for advancing, with success; and that the time may not be very far off when from the heart of Africa a light may shine forth upon the nations worthy of that race which first seized the torch of science, and handed it to the nations of the West.

In attempting to convey to you an expression of the feelings with which this work is presented to you on this occasion, I cannot do better than read the inscription which it bears:-"To the Rev. Robert Moffat, of the London Missionary Society, this work, the ablest and most copious digest of human knowledge at present extant, is affectionately presented by a few of his friends in the metropolis of his native country and its vicinity, as a token of their respect for his character as a man, an expression of their admiration of his zeal and labour as a missionary, and a memorial to him when he shall revisit the scene of his labours, of intercourse with Christian brethren in Scotland, the recollection of which will be retained by them so long as life endures."

The sentiment with which this inscription concludes, conveys, I can assure you, the real feelings of our minds. Your visit to us we never can forget. Our little children are already in their infantine chronology, beginning to date from the time "when Mr. Moffat spoke to them;" and, believe me, to many of us of riper years the time when you spoke to us will be as a sunny spot on the dusty

and troubled road along which we have to journey. We feel ourselves your debtors. We have reaped a real and a pure pleasure from the pictures you have given us of missionary life, your romantic adventures, your hair-breadth escapes, your bold exertions, your surprising successes. You have opened before us a new page of human society and character, and have confirmed our attachment to the missionary cause, by showing that there is no tribe too degraded for the gospel to elevate, no heart too polluted for Christianity to purify. Your debtors we are, and it is but an imperfect expression of our sense of obligation which we convey to you by this present. Nor are our feelings of affection unmixed with an emotion of sadness, as we reflect that, after a short space, we shall, in all human probability, behold your face no more in the flesh. But we would not detain you if we might. You have given yourself to Africa, and already, as you have told us in the preface to your book, "you feel that your work in England is done, and that the spirit of the stranger and pilgrim is stealing powerfully over you, that you long once more to brave the mighty ocean, and eagerly anticipate the hour when you shall again reach the shores of your adopted country, and appear in the midst of the children of the wilderness." Go, then, beloved brother, and bear with you the sympathy, the affection, and the prayers, of thousands of your friends and brethren at home. May He who has been with you in the days that are past be with you still, to keep you in all your ways, and to prosper the work of your hands. May he fulfil to you the promise of his own faithful word, There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. Thou shalt tread upon the lion and the adder, the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under foot. Because thou hast set thy love upon me, therefore will I deliver thee; I will set thee on high, because thou hast known my name.'

66

The Rev. ROBERT MOFFAT rose and said,-My Christian friends, it is with emotions of no common order that I rise to address you on the present occasion. Little did I think, when I last addressed you on my arrival in this country, that I should, in such circumstances as these, speak to you, surrounded by my fathers and brethren, and favoured with such a proof of your kindness. You will, I trust, pardon the emotions I feel. My heart is almost overwhelmed at the kindness you have shown me. I rise to thank you with all my heart; but words are only a faint expression of what I feel. I shall thank you while I live, when I look at the splendid gift you have bestowed. Allow me to refer to my feelings when I left Africa. Little did I anticipate, then, that I should see such a sight as this. When I left that beloved land-for, notwithstanding all her woes and blackness, my heart clings to Africa-I felt the greatest reluctance to leave the scene of my much loved labours. I was, however, compelled to print the Bible which I had translated into the Sechuana language; and but for that, no cord should have drawn me, nor terror driven me, from Africa. Did this arise from want of feeling and affection to my native shores? No; Scotia's land and Scotia's mountains had a power over my heart which I could not express. I had pious parents still living there; and O, what would I not have given for the wings of the morning, to alight by their side, and gaze on these beloved countenances! But still until I had a sufficient reason, I dared not desire to come. How often, amid the surrounding carelessness of the Bechuanas, have I longed to be present with Christian friends in observing divine ordinances in my own country, and to look on the soul-moving sight of a missionary meeting; but still I dared not come. And why? Just because I had become so much an African, and so accustomed to look on the faces of Afric's sable sons,-whom, with all their blackness and degradation, I ardently love,-that I felt as if I were coming to a land of strangers. Providence, however, seemed to mark my way for England, and I could not disobey. On my way hither, bitter affliction came upon us, and we were made to bear the rod of adversity. One dear child was taken away on the passage by the stroke of death, and I had the daily fear for a time that the beloved partner of all my sorrows and sufferings should also be carried off. Such were our circumstances when we passed over the mighty deep, and when I arrived in England I trembled. Yes, that man who had travelled in the desert, mingling with beasts of savage name, and with men more savage still, was afraid to meet his own countrymen.

But I thank God that I came to England. I have been enabled, I trust, to do more, ten thousand times more, for the cause of Africa, than I could have done

had I not visited England. And here I cannot but look back to the ever-memo rable time when I was accepted as a missionary by the society with which you are connected. I was then asked by Mr. Roby, Have you made your parents acquainted with your purpose of becoming a missionary? I was obliged to answer, No. A fainting came over me, for I was afraid to mention the subject to them lest they should oppose my going. I wrote to them, however, and I trembled every day for the import of the answer. I well remember receiving the letter, and what was my joy to find it to this effect:-" We have thought of your proposal to become a missionary, we have prayed over it, and we cannot withhold you from the good work.' I have been spared to see these parents again, and here, where they are, I might ask them, "Are they unwilling, once more, to part with me?" and I know they would still reply, "Go, and our hearts and our prayers shall go with you."

I look on all these things which God hath done for me, and I am humbled in the dust. For ever since I began to address my countrymen on the cause of Missions, I have been responded to with an earnestness which shows that the subject has taken a firm hold on all right-hearted men. I confess I felt somewhat afraid to come to Scotland, lest my countrymen should allow their wonted caution to have an undue influence towards me and the cause I love. But when I came to Scotland, I was delighted beyond expression to witness an enthusiasm such as I had never seen even in Exeter Hall. I was not prepared to see the deathlike silence which often pervaded assemblies while I told them, as simply as I best could, of what God had done for Africa, and I returned to England and made boast of the land of my birth.

I looked forward to take a last farewell of my beloved parents, and to see your faces once more ere I left for the deserts of Africa, but I did not look to receiving such a treasure as this. I expected only the common marks of friendship, you have favoured me with the highest proofs of your affection; and, as we say in Africa, you have melted my heart, and made it all run out. There is a period when the heart would be alone to meditate, rather than be in the company of others, to give expressions to feelings which cannot be told. You have greatly distinguished me, and language fails to express my emotions. But it brings to my mind whose I am, and whom I serve. know it is not for my sake alone you have done this, but in love to the Master I seek to honour, and the glorious cause in which I desire to live, and labour, and die. I remember that the Lord himself, when on earth, had not where to lay his head; but were I asked, have I lacked anything in his service, in all my sufferings, I should answer No; and when I look at this expression of HIS and your kindness, I feel my obligations increased a thousand fold, to spend and be spent for Jesus the Saviour.

I

I am about to return to the wilds of Africa, and to that people who but yesterday have been reclaimed from barbarism and blood, and nothing can form a more useful auxiliary to me in my work than this gift of your considerate kindness. A missionary who goes to the barbarous tribes of the desert must, of necessity, act as civilizer as well as evangelist, and how often, in the solitudes of the wilderness, have I longed for some such directory as this to the useful arts. And now I shall be reminded of you wherever I am,-when I am in the study, or working at the anvil, or on the roof of a house, or in the field at the plough, or in whatever situation I am placed, for I shall find this useful to me in all circumstances. I have found by experience, that much subordinate good can be done by a missionary, by his placing before the people the advantages of civilization. At first, indeed, when he settles among them, he may be only an object of repulsion or mere curiosity. Yet his superior knowledge tells on them. I remember a rain-maker once said to me, "Ha, were I to believe that God made all things, I should think that he first made Bushmen, then Bechuanas, and ended with the white man. The first appears the work of an apprentice hand, and it is no wonder that you are so superior to us, you were the last created, and therefore you are so wise." Among such a people, the missionary must be Jack of all trades. Prior to the introduction of the gospel among the Bechuanas, there was an everlasting sameness in all things connected with them. They never improved; but no sooner did the gospel expand their minds, and touch their hearts and elevate their characters, than civilization followed; they became eager to copy the habits and manners and example NEW SERIES. VOL. III.

C

of those who brought them the light-giving word, so that now we have carpen ters and smiths, and other artizans among them. They are becoming instructed in wood-work and iron, and sometimes ludicrous enough scenes occur in their attempts to imitate the work of the missionary. One will take the root of a tree for the purpose of making an imitation of our chair, and it is hewn till something like three feet appear, but certainly bearing no very close resemblance to the original pattern. They witness us again conducting water from one level to another, but seeing no good reason why it should not go up the hill as well as come down, they dig the ditch on all levels, and express no little wonder if the water rebels and will not run after them wherever they would lead. To whom are the untutored savages to look for civilization but to the missionary in whom they have confidence? And then, in leading them in the path of improvement, how great the importance of having a book like this. I went out to Africa with some knowledge of gardening, but knowing little else of the arts of life; and often, when called on to take the leading part in husbandry, in building, in waggon-making, and in doctoring, what would I not have given for this Encyclopædia to direct me in working and in teaching the people around me to work in these useful arts. For, let me assure you, after twenty-three years of experience of Africans, that they can be taught, and that they will be taught, until that infamous libel, that they are incapable of learning, with which they have been branded, shall have been for ever wiped away. The African can reason. This I shall show by facts. I have been often asked, since I came to this country, had they any idolatry? Let me mention an instance of the manner in which they regard the folly of idol worship. A native once entered my house, where a sketch, in which idols were depicted, came under his notice. He knew not that this was a representation of some living animals that were worshipped by some people as gods. He asked our little daughter, Mary, "What kind of brutes are these?" She replied: "They are objects that people in other lands worship as their gods." He asked in amazement, "Where do they live? What eagle brought us this? I never saw a thing like this. These are things that are made; who can worship these? You are surely speaking lies." On her still affirming it, and saying, "Mamma told me," he came to me in great haste, saying, "Are these things that are worshipped? The people that worship these things, have they got heads, and legs, and a belly; and do they breathe, and can they reason like Bechuanas?" And at last he ended his expression of astonishment by saying, "After this never call Bechuanas foolish or ignorant. I take that piece of wood and cut it and carve it, but what would my people think of me were I to worship it as my God? They would throw me over a precipice, that I might die the death of a madman." This, my friends, is the reasoning of the people who have been called inferior, having heads with bumps not like ours at all; and who were so far beneath us that it was only by a great stretch of courtesy that they could be regarded as belonging to the same race. But they can think they can understand the gospel; aye, and preach the gospel too. That people who had no light, who were perishing for lack of knowledge, they have now, through God's blessing, a large portion of the oracles of saving truth; and they are showing to their benighted countrymen, by publishing the good news, that they are able to speak with power on the things of God. There is a native agency rising up among them, and we look to the time when an academy shall be formed among them, to cultivate their minds, to shed the lustre of intelligence over their hitherto darkened natures, and to prepare them for preaching throughout all Africa the everlasting gospel of the grace of God. Providence is often mysterious and most gracious in its actings, for raising up instruments to spread the truth. There was once an individual who, when a little boy, ran away from his father's outposts, where he was tending the herds. God led him to our station. He was taught the truth as it is in Jesus; he was taken back to his father's station; but again he returned to the missionary settlement. And I have seen him often fervently explaining and enforcing scripture truth on his countrymen; and now he has offered to become a missionary, to be employed any where, to make known the Saviour's dying love.

Besides all this, we look forward to the time when this people shall have a literature of their own, no unworthy counterpart of Africa's far-famed literature in times of old; and we shall exert all our powers to hasten on the time when the agencies of the churches of Christ in that land shall go every where into the