“Stephen Orpin,” cried a sturdy sinner, in whose ears these words were preached, “do you know all that to be true? Can you speak from experience of this deliverance, this rest?”

“Yes,” cried Stephen, starting up with a sudden impulse, “I do know it—partly by some deliverances that have been wrought for me, partly from some degree of rest attained to, and much, very much, from the firm assurance I have that, but for God’s forbearing and restraining mercy, I should have been a lost soul long long ago. Man, wherein I have failed in obtaining deliverance and rest, it has been owing to my sin, not to failure in the Lord’s faithfulness.”

But Stephen did not travel so far or so long as had been his wont in days gone by. A wife and family, in the village of Salem, exercised an attractive influence, fastening him, as it were, to a fixed point, and converting his former erratic orbit into a circle which, with centripetal force, was always drawing nearer to its centre.

In the course of his early wanderings Orpin managed to search out Ruyter the Hottentot robber, and so influenced him as to induce him to give up his lawless career, and return to the colony. Ruyter drew with him Abdul Jemalee, Booby the Bushman, and one or two others, who settled down to peaceful occupations.

The Malay in particular—slavery being by that time abolished—returned to Capetown, and there found his amiable wife and loving children ready to receive him with open arms. It is true the wife was somewhat aged, like himself, and his children were grown up—some of them even married,—but these little matters weighed nothing in his mind compared with the great, glorious fact, that he was reunited to them in a land where he might call his body his own!

If Jemalee had been a man of much observation, he might have noted that many important changes had taken place in Capetown and its surroundings during his long absence. A new South African college had been erected; a library which might now stand in the front rank of the world’s libraries had been collected; the freedom of the press had been largely taken advantage of, and education generally was being prosecuted with a degree of rigour that argued well for the future of the colony—especially in Stellenbosch, Wellington, and neighbouring places. But Abdul Jemalee was not a man of observation. He did not care a straw for these things, and although we should like much to enlarge on them, as well as on other topics, we must hold our hand—for the new and eastern, not the old and western provinces of South Africa claim our undivided attention in this tale.

There is no necessary antagonism, however, between these two—‘East’ and ‘West.’ Circumstances and men have at present thrown a few apples of discord into them, just as was the case with England and Scotland of old; with the North and South in the United States of late; but, doubtless, these apples, and every other source of discord, will be removed in the course of time, and South Africa will ere long become a united whole, with a united religious and commercial people, under one flag, animated by one desire—the advancement of truth and righteousness among themselves, as well as among surrounding savages,—and extending in one grand sweep of unbroken fertility from the Cape of Good Hope to the Equator.

The End

1

See Narrative of a Residence in South Africa, by Thomas Pringle, late Secretary to the Anti-Slavery Society.

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2

Reverend A.A. Dugmore, the Reminiscences of an Albany Settler, page 23.

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3

The author, having seen the mirage while riding on the karroo, writes from personal experience.

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4

The author had the pleasure of spending a night last year (1876) under the hospitable roof of Mr Pringle, shortly before his death, and saw the identical assagai, which was bent by the force with which it had been hurled against him on that occasion.

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