When Dr. Livingstone took his leave of this interesting family, the wife asked him to bring her some cloth from the white man's country. When he returned, after a long journey, he was surprised to find the pleasant home silent and deserted; the garden given up to wild weeds, and the huts in ruins, and no sign of life in the spot where he last saw a large family of frolicking children. Poor Mozinkwa's wife was dead and in her grave under the large trees, while the huts, garden, and hedge, of which she had been so proud, were fast going to ruin; for, according to the custom of that heathen country, a man can never continue to live where a favorite wife has died. He is so lonely and sorrowful when he thinks of the happy times they have had together, that he cannot stay where everything reminds him of his loss. If ever he visits the spot again, it is to pray to his dead wife and make some offering. So for want of a knowledge of the Friend of Sinners, who binds up the wounded heart, they must move from place to place, and can never have any settled villages in that part of the country.
How different would the scene have been on Dr. Livingstone's return, if poor Mozinkwa and his wife had been Christians. Then he might have been happy even in his loneliness, for he would have prayed to God for strength to bear his loss, and read the Bible, and taught his children to live so as to meet their mother in heaven. Instead of flying from place to place to forget their troubles, those poor Africans might have permanently happy homes, if they knew the peace the gospel gives.
A HOTTENTOT'S LOVE FOR HER TEACHERS, AND THE POWER OF PRAYER.
During the persecution to which the Moravian missionaries in South Africa were exposed some years ago, a woman, living about an hour's walk from the mission house, had a daughter who attended the school, and had become a Christian. One day this girl returned home in terror, bringing her little sister. Her mother inquired the reason; she replied: "We and our teachers are all to be shot dead, and I have brought my sister back, that you may at least keep one child; but as for me, I will return to my teachers and suffer with them."
"What!" said her mother, "do you mean to go and be killed?"
"Yes," replied the poor girl; "for it is written in the Bible, 'Whoever will lose his life for my sake, shall find it.'"
Her mother was much affected, and taking up her younger daughter, said, "My child, where you are there will I be."
The party then set off for Bavian's Kloof, weeping all the way. When they had arrived at the top of the hill which commanded a view of the settlement, they saw a number of the natives approaching it, as if to attack the missionaries. The Hottentot woman and her children fell upon their knees and cried fervently to God, beseeching Him to prevent the enemy from hurting their beloved teachers. When they again looked up, they saw the men going towards another plantation, at some distance from the mission. The woman and children went to Bavian's Kloof, and found the Hottentots there all in tears, some kneeling, some prostrate on their faces, crying to God, and their most urgent prayers seemed to be, "Preserve the teachers whom Thou hast sent us."