ALBERT BURTON JOWETT.

I was born, in 1860, in a little town called Mocolo. They have no houses there, but little mud huts covered with thatch. There are no roads, nor horses, nor cows. The people walk, or ride in little canoes on the rivers. Not much work is done. What little clothing they wear is made of native cloths. They have no cradles, and no clothing is needed for their children. My father was away in the country to buy rice for the Mendi Mission, and was taken prisoner a little before I was born. The town was destroyed and the inhabitants killed, but my father’s life was spared. He was redeemed by Mr. Burton, one of the missionaries, who paid twenty-five shillings, English money, for his release. My father moved to Good Hope when I was quite young, and I attended school and studied the English language.

Not far from the school-house there are groves of limes, pine-apples, plums, and bacon-fire, and the boys amuse themselves by battling each other with limes. The principal holidays are Christmas, New-Year’s and Good Friday. They celebrate Christmas by having a big dance out of doors, lasting all day and often all night. The music is made by beating drums, and by women who sing and clap their hands. The place was lighted through the night by an immense fire in the centre. Pots of rice are cooked, and a sauce made of palm-oil, rice and fish, is served with it. They always have rum and gin, which is supplied them very much more freely than the Gospel. We have no stoves in our country. The fires are built either out of doors or in the corner of the hut. As there are no chimneys, it is sometimes very smoky. The natives have no lamps, but use palm-oil in a dish. For a wick they wrap a piece of cloth around a stick. They have no tables, but sit down around a large mat and eat their food from wooden bowls, making one spoon do for the whole family. On funeral occasions they have a big dance, which they sometimes keep up two or three days. All the people of the village attend, and the nearest relative is expected to furnish all the rum he is able to pay for, and a liberal supply of food, but they have no religious ceremonies. When a big man marries, if he has sufficient money, he keeps up a dance for a week. The missionaries are welcomed, and are doing a great deal to break up these old customs. In 1877, the Rev. Mr. Snelson and two other Freedmen came to our mission, and it was under their instruction that I was urged to give my heart to the Saviour. When Mr. Snelson asked me to try and become a Christian, I told him I couldn’t do it.

He took me to his room and prayed with me, then he called my father, and we all knelt down and he prayed again. He told me to go up to my room and think over the matter. At first I did not know what to do; then I fell down on my knees and prayed; I went to bed and prayed nearly the whole night. The next day I went to see Mr. Snelson, and he spoke to me on the same subject; I told him I felt greatly relieved from the burden of sin, and he prayed with me again that evening. Soon after I connected myself with the church. After Mr. Snelson’s return to America, Rev. Albert Miller, a Freedman from the Fisk University, was my pastor.

Before leaving Africa I acted as interpreter for Mr. Miller, translating his sermons, as he delivered them, into the Mendi language. My father, who has been a native preacher for more than twenty years, is anxious to have missions planted far into the interior, where there are supposed to be two million Mendi people, occupying a country about 7 degrees north latitude. All he could do is to give me up to the work. Among this vast number, there is but one mission at present, and that is conducted by Freedmen from America.

After spending three years in this country, at the Fisk University, it is my purpose to return to Africa, and assist in establishing missions in large villages in the wooded country, far from the coast. I feel that I need your prayers. I have been treated very kindly since I left Africa, and I pray earnestly that I may not disappoint my friends who have assisted me in coming to this country, and who are anxious that I should prepare myself to be a successful missionary in my native land.