In 1868 the missionary staff at that station consisted of Robert Moffat and his son John Moffat.  The former had now more than completed the three-score years and ten allotted to man as the duration of human life, and unlike the great leader of God’s chosen people, of whom it is said, “his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated,” Robert Moffat felt the infirmities of age creeping very rapidly upon him.  Yet he held on his way for two years longer.  A short and constant cough during the winter months aggravated his natural tendency to sleeplessness, and at last he felt himself reluctantly compelled to accept the invitation of the Directors to return finally to England.

Going home to England it could hardly be called, his home was with his loved Bechwanas, with those for whom he had toiled and prayed so long.  The ashes of his son Robert, and of his devoted daughter Mary reposed beneath the sands of Africa; his early and later manhood had been spent beneath its scorching sun.  The house he was to leave had been the birthplace of most of his children, and his home for more than forty years.  Yes, it was hard to leave; and the expectation had become very real to him that his body and that of his faithful partner would be laid side by side in that little burial-ground in the bushy dell, marked by a few trees, at Kuruman.  But the final determination had been arrived at, and with slow and hesitating steps, as though waiting for something, even then, to prevent their departure, preparations were made for leaving the station for ever.

Of the general aspect of affairs at the Kuruman during these last two years we have a graphic description from the pen of the Rev. John Moffat, who in a letter to the Directors dated 12th October, 1868, wrote as follows:—­

“The public services on the station are a prayer-meeting at sunrise on Sunday; preaching in Sechwana, morning, afternoon, and evening, with the Sunday school twice, and a juvenile afternoon service.  The early prayer-meeting is left entirely to the natives, the three preaching services entirely to the missionaries, and the Sunday school, with the juvenile service, to my sister.  There is also a Wednesday evening service, a monthly missionary prayer meeting, a church meeting, and a prayer meeting on Thursday afternoon.  This last is in the hands of the natives.  No native takes any part in the preaching on the station, except in extreme cases, when it is regarded as a makeshift.  My father and I share the preaching between us.  Occasionally, say once in three weeks, one of us rides to two villages to the north-west, holding services at each; they are respectively eight and twelve miles distant.  My custom at home, in the regular way, is to give New Testament reading in the morning, a topical sermon in the afternoon, and Old Testament exposition in the evening.  On Monday evening I have a young men’s Bible class, which is to me the most interesting work I have to do, more especially