along one day a snipe got up; he fired, down fell the snipe; the report disturbed an elephant (before unobserved by him) from some reeds; he fired his other barrel; the huge animal tottered for some distance, then fell dead; upon examination he found he had killed the snipe with a ball, and the elephant with snipe shot!

Without disparagement to the above, G, in conclusion, narrated the following occurrence which had actually taken place but a few days previously on the frontier, he being one of the party: "LieutenantColonel C- Captain A- and G, with some soldiers of the 7th, were advancing courageously, and with cool determination keeping their eyes steadily fixed upon two lions. When within a few paces of them, and about to fire, the lions growled and eyed their foes in return, and prepared to spring from where they lay couched on the grass. At that moment a private of the 7th called out to his neighbour, 'Aragh! Corporal Joice, do lions ate grass?' Such a question, at such a time, was too much for Captain A-, and nearly cost him his life-he missed. The lion was upon him in a minute. That lion was shot over his body." Mr. Longhead was delighted with these stories, and asked if there was any shooting near that he could get. Mr. Blue said: “Oh, dear, yes; but you must be there very, very early in the morning, as soon as it is light." And he described the situation so minutely that Mr. Longhead, who had already been ten days in Cape Town, found it out without any difficulty a few mornings afterwards; and, as he himself said, when telling what happened confidentially to Blue some time after the occurrence :

"You remember you told me that it was the early bird who got the worm, and if I was early I might meet the birds come down from the mountains for that purpose. Well, I went early, and saw nothing for some time, till at last I discovered a beautiful bird in a small enclosure; and you told me, you know, not to load with a ball; that small shot would do. Well, I popped my gun through the railings and took a long aim; I'm sure I shouldn't have missed him, when, what do you think? an old gentleman-I'm sure it was a gentleman,-do you know who it could be? -called out to me, 'Hilloa, young man! what are you doing there?' I told him some of the officers had said I might come out to shoot there. 'Oh! I see,' said the gentleman, you have been made the subject of some hoax; but go home now;' and I went, but I don't think he looked much to see whether I did or not."

6

The place was Government Gardens; the bird was a pet Kaffir crane; and the gentleman was his Excellency the Governor Sir Benjamin D'Urban.

The simple term "gentleman," as applied to Sir Benjamin D'Urban, seems, indeed, inadequate; his name tempts a fuller description, for he outstripped the measure of a term so common. An accomplished scholar and a good linguist; upright and honourable; a noble, gallant, brave, and distinguished soldier; possessing great discernment, with a generous feeling and Christian heart; all this and more that was good, together with eighteen years' experience in the capacity of ruler, should render such a one, as in truth he was, "the mark and glass, copy and book," that ought to fashion and model the governor of the Cape of Good Hope.

Soon after the burlesque dinner had taken place, the Kaffirs broke out. True, the conquering and expulsion of the hostile tribes could add but little to the glory of him who was quartermaster-general to Lord Beresford in the never-to-be forgotten Peninsular war; the arm that single

handed engaged and triumphed over three of the enemy's troopers, was there unlikely to reap fresh laurels with the sword. Bismark, writing of cavalry, points out, that an officer to lead is everything; then he cites Sir Benjamin D'Urban at Salamanca, when in command of the Portuguese cavalry. But justice to the colony was tempered with mercy to the vanquished; his military eye at once saw (and who that ever saw that frontier boundary can set up a different opinion?) that the Fish River boundary only tempted to crime. On their side it was the best possible stronghold for concealment and the assembling of masses of their people. In extent, its serpentine windings occupied about ninety miles, and in depth about three. So precipitate are its hills, as to take half a day in the descent of one and the out-topping of its fellow. The belt of country, thickly clothed in "bush," is passable only through the knowledge of the paths made by elephants, its oldest inhabitants. The Kaffirs took all advantages of a boundary so strong for them, so weak for the colonists. In detached small parties they crossed the numerous fords, doing their work upon isolated farms; the firebrand or the assegai were used as occasion offered, and the incendiaries, murderers, or plunderers, with their treasures of stolen cattle, found protection upon crossing the river.

The hostile Kaffirs expelled beyond the Kei, that river was proclaimed the boundary of the colony. Wherein was the mercy? wherein the expediency and prudence? It was merciful in this-that the tribes, hitherto oppressed and crowded, should have the space in the rear of the Kei allotted to them for occupancy. The disaffected to the colonial cause, deprived of their stronghold, would sink the temptation for plunder in the certainty of detection and punishment, the country being open. Should they be able, even stealthily, to pass to the rear, the hope of passing the plunder (cattle the bait that so allures and tempts them) between the proposed military posts-which patrols and signals linked in one chain -was lost to them-annihilated and cut off. It was expedient, then, in that it released the overpopulated country in the rear; and prudent, in the hope that this generous extension to them of territory would, coupled with their intercourse with the sojourners in the new locality, gradually ally and tie them in one general interest with the colonists. Herein lay Sir Benjamin D'Urban's discernment. He took the country-justly forfeited-not from cupidity and desire of aggrandisement in grasping at colonial extension of territory, but to relieve the oppressed, and form the base of lasting peace!

The Wesleyan missionaries and their families, at their own entreaty, were at an early period rescued from Kaffir atrocities and placed under colonial protection. Eight thousand Fingoes (inclusive of men, women, and children) were emancipated. Treated like dogs, and spoken of as such, the Kaffir spat on the ground when he pronounced the name. Not unfrequently, if the chief's cow did not produce a calf, or if the millet or pumpkin crop was blighted, was the wretched Fingoe accused of witchcraft. Pointed at as the worker of the evil, he was taken to a steep kloof, cast down it, and his body dashed to pieces.

Plenty will assert the fact, but why has no one dared to write it, that to the interference of the London missionaries in no small measure may be traced the source of the stream of blood so often poured out there, and the draining of the coffers at home.

The Colonial Secretary of that period slept in his office, as Knicker

bocker's Doubter did over the affairs of New Amsterdam; but the UnderSecretary, with Dr. P, and a few of the same sect, roused him up, and pointed out to him two words in the proclamation of Sir Benjamin D'Urban: those words were-irreclaimable savages. Oh! dreadful! What a governor! He knew nothing-was totally misinformed! The Kaffirs had been cruelly treated; the colonists and the governor were the aggressors. Only fancy, why, of course, the Kaffirs were converted Christians, and should be treated as people of education quite equal to the white man. Had they not been preaching to them since 1814? Then it must be so, or what would in future be believed of the annual strides, and the vast numbers of converts Christianity was making, and had made? Oh! they must convince them of it in London! Sir Benjamin D'Urban was removed from the government; they knew colonial politics far the best; had they not dabbled in them at all times for years and years before he came out? And so they sent home to London afterwards four or five converted Kaffirs, well crammed, as specimens, knowing how easy John Bull is to be gulled; and knowing, in their hearts, about one score in all Kaffirland was as many as they could boast of!

The Church had better not meddle in affairs of State. If some industrious and hungry spider in the Colonial Office were just to swallow those gnats, perhaps the noble lord at the head of affairs there may be induced to adopt the boundary and policy of Sir Benjamin D'Urban.

All this is dry work; so back to the mess-table, and a glass of wine with Mr. Longhead. G called out to Mr. Blue and said,

“Blue, I don't think your friend would much relish being charged by a rhinoceros."

Blue: "Mr. President, I appeal to you; my friend is insulted."
The President rose and said,

"It

appears to me there is but one way of settling this affair. In a case so gross as this, it would be most unbecoming in G

to offer an apology, and as to your accepting it, Blue, it is quite out of the question. Mr. Vice, ring the bell."

The bell was rung, and the mess waiter answered it. "The president wants you."

The President: "Bring up coffee and pistols for two.

heard the order, gentlemen.

Do abide by my

decision?

you

report the affair to the colonel in the morning?"

G—— and Blue both bowed to the president.

You have

Or shall I

The mess waiter returned, bringing with him, on a large silver salver,

two cups of coffee and a brace of pistols.

"Are you sure," inquired the President, "that they are carefully loaded?"

"Yes, sir; the drum-major loaded them himself."

"Gentlemen, take your coffee whilst Mr. Vice measures out twelve napkins; it will steady your hands."

The ground was measured out, and the principals posted.

The pistols being handed to them by Mr. Vice, Mr. Longhead implored them not to proceed. He did not in the least mind what had been said of him, and the tears literally filled his eyes.

The president whispered confidentially, that most likely only one of them would be killed; and if they did not fight, they would both be obliged to leave the service.

"Gentlemen, you will observe me drink this glass of claret; I shall do it slowly; you will fire the instant I turn up the heel tap."

They fired together. The pistols having been heavily loaded with powder, one of the mess servants, posted outside for that purpose, breaking a pane of glass in the window behind Blue, as if the bullet had passed through.

Blue said it was very near, but he was not yet satisfied. But the prayers, entreaties, and anguish of poor Mr. Longhead prevailed with the president, who bade the combatants shake hands; and, sending out the pistols, he ordered a glass of hot brandy-and-water and a cigar for each of them, and bade them sit together.

The excitement of the above scene and the pepper in the soup at last overcame Mr. Longhead, and he sank into a deep and heavy sleep. How was he to be got home? How fortunate the hand-barrows had been brought! They rolled him into one of them, Gimbo, G the president, and Blue acting as bearers. Their arms began to feel fatigued with so weighty a burden, and, singularly enough, they put the barrow down to rest just where one of those tiny streams came down the Heirengracht; and the bearers saw the water's gradual rise, till overflowing the dam the upper part of his stout legs had formed, a pretty little waterfall was formed on the other side.

G― remarked, "If he had a headache in the morning, it would be an awful one, judging by the size of the head itself."

Blue said, "He could prove, from Pope, that he was sober now, though he might have been drunk before the cloth was off,

For shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again;

and that last tumbler of brandy-and-water was a stiff one."

The President proposed, "Instead of chopping logic at that hour of the morning, they should proceed," which was accordingly done.

The barrow being removed from under the "illustrious stranger," he was left on the steps of the house of X. and L., where Blue first made his acquaintance; all the bearers but one ran off, taking with them the hand-barrow. Blue rang the bell violently, then ensconced himself behind a tree till he saw the door opened, and then ran off. Thus ended Mr. Longhead's first night at mess.

The acquaintance of Mr. Longhead, thus singularly begun, was not dropped. On the contrary, being a thoroughly good-tempered, goodnatured fellow, apologies were made to him; his second and subsequent mess dinners were strikingly unlike the first. No one afterwards enjoyed the story more than himself, and never more was trick of any kind played upon him.

The smoke from Mr. Longhead's cigar often rose in peace with that of the officers who occupied the guard-room benches in Government Gardens, and, mingling in contented unison, was at length gradually dispersed.

THE LATE MR. EDWARD BAINES.*

WHEN the current of public opinion was setting the most strongly in favour of emigration, as the only means of leaving a fair field for the exertions of those who might remain behind, there were many who thought that there was still scarcely a walk of life, however crowded, in which success could not be commanded at home by any one who, to a fair amount of talent, merely added honesty and industry.

In one of his Reflections, made without much exercise of that faculty, Dr. Armstrong asserts that a moderate degree of discretion and judgment, with the help of a very slight education, are sufficient to qualify almost any man to succeed in anything. The late Mr. Murray, of Albemarle-street, used to say that, in the present state of society, impudence seemed to be an important requisite; and he mentioned instances, even amongst authors, of its having done a good deal. It must be admitted, however, that, to the achievement of a fortunate career, three elements are necessary-the will, the power, and an occasion. One occasion, at least, occurs in the life of every man, even if he have not the means of creating it for himself by the exertion of his will and power; and, in the science of self-advancement, the latter qualities do not imply more than an average amount of mental vigour and a firm resolve. The author of "Lavengro" relies entirely upon "iron perseverance;" without which, he thinks, that "all the advantages of time and circumstance are of little avail."

A very accomplished whist-player, being asked if he thought the game to which he was devoted required much intellect, "I do not know," he said, "what amount of intellect it may require, but I am certain, at least, that all the mind a man possesses must be given to it for the time." And this is equally true of self-advancement. The object to be attained being once defined, none else must be allowed to disturb the attention or to occupy the thoughts. If it be wealth, there must be no dallying in "the pleasant paths of poesy;" no yielding to the blandishments of refinement and of taste; and, even in pursuing the one straight line, the cry must be continually, "Forward.”

It is true that an eminent millionaire of the present day, at a very early period of his career, professed to be a lover of the fine arts; but as he could haggle with a painter for including a frame in the price to be paid for a portrait, there was little fear of his admiration leading him into any dangerous excess of fondness. This was simply an affectation. He had other objects of ambition, but he was content to see them realised in his children; and his own faculties were devoted entirely to the acquisition of wealth and of the distinction it conferred. Of the perilous allurements of an antagonistic pursuit we have an example in the elder Roscoe, who, surrounded by all the seductions of literature and art, and absorbed in the study of the middle ages, was unaware of an approaching revulsion in his own, till it had involved him, as a banker, in irrecoverable ruin. His was, indeed, a fatal instance of divided regards. The cherished schemes of self-advancement, which had been successfully pursued for years, were at once overthrown; and a residence that, while its gifted

Life of Edward Baines, late M.P. for the Borough of Leeds. By his Son, Edward Baines, author of "The History of the Cotton Manufacture." London: Longman and Co.