there is a wholesome appreciation of the maxim, "Let him beware who throws the first stone," and where to excel in circulating rumours with the view of destroying reputations, is not considered the highest aim of the intellect. There certainly was a lady in Cape Town during my sojourn there who endeavoured to assume that rôle; for "viperous slander rides on the posting winds and enters everywhere". She met, however, with condign punishment, for none of the reputations which spleen cr jealously led her to attack--malignantly though covertly-suffered, although strange to say, she succeeded admirably in entirely losing her own. After all, there is too much truth in the words of the poet

"There's a lust in man no charm can tame,
Of loudly publishing our neighbours' shame,
On eagles' wings immortal scandals fly,

While virtuous actions are but born and die."

The concurrent vice of men here, namely, over-dressing and Bond Street lounging, are by no means made paramount considerations by Cape colonists, though there is certainly a little tendency in that direction to be met with in Natal, called "Natal side," which I shall deal with under the head of "Colonial Idiosyncrasies" in my next chapter. Still, few Africanders are content to be what Carlyle describes as "Clothes screens". Poor creatures, "whose every faculty of soul, spirit, purse, and person, is heroically consecrated to this one object, so that as others dress to live they live to dress". The "foppish airs" and "histrionic mummery" which Cowper anathematised are not colonial vices. The colonist does not "sacrifice to dress till household joys and comforts cease, and till his cellars are drained dry, and his larder rendered clean, his fires put out, and hunger, frost and woe reign in place of peace and hospitality".

Addison has said of English folk long ago, and his words are over true even now, "The affectation of being gay and in fashion very nearly eats up our good sense and religion". With all their love of show, colonists are less hollow than we are. good nature about the every-day colonist which has a peculiar charm of its own. He has a light-hearted, merry way of taking

There is a real

BE HONEST BEFORE YOU ARE LIBERAL.

61

life, impossible I suppose in England, where leaden skies, and the concomitant disagreeables, affect the liver, the lungs and the brain, and make it next to an impossibility to possess a good and even temper. This good nature, however, is not to be attributed entirely to the more favourable climatic condition of the colonies. It arises also from a less anxious and serious manner of regarding life than can possibly be the case in our old, care-worn, sorrowstricken country. There is a disposition to look upon misfortunes as trifles, a contentment and bonhomie despite reverses, which by the way are borne in a wonderfully philosophic manner. The colonists possess most recuperative faculties. They are at all times a most liberal-minded, open-handed set of men, ready to help their friend in adversity, and often doing so in a most unselfish if scarcely discreet manner. I remember casually meeting a chum-one of the best fellows in this world-sometime since. He is a man quite incapable of appreciating the value of money: a series of the sternest lessons have taught him nothing in this respect. He is consequently in a chronic state of impecuniosity. When, therefore, he asked me to take luncheon with him I hesitated, and would have excused myself had I been able to withstand his importunity. On his way to a restaurant I perceived that he engaged in a digitorial investigation of his pocket, but he seemed unable to find a gold mine. At length he ejaculated, "Where on earth is that sovereign I had in my pocket?" This remark was followed by a bewildered look, which suddenly changed to a dejected expression as he added, "Oh! I know, I have just given it to Major; poor fellow, he was awfully lapideous,' and spun me such a sad tale, I was compelled to give him something. A sovereign was all I had, so I gave him that rather indiscreet, I must confess, considering it was my last, and I have not the remotest notion where I can get another." This little narrative illustrates a typical condition of things in the colonies. This unthinking generosity, amiable fault as it is, can scarcely come under the category of the "luxury of doing good". A responsible being, especially one with others depending upon him, ought to keep such impulses well in check.

Of colonial hospitality I have already said something. I might

write much more upon it, for it knows no bounds, and is dispensed in a truly noble and open-handed manner. This remark applies to all South Africa, the Dutch farmers at one time being especially profuse in their kind treatment of strangers. Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis. The riff-raff which the discovery of the diamond fields brought into the colonies has made the Boers think twice before they leave an open door for the wayfarer to enter and sojourn as long as he listeth. The presence of so many English blacklegs in South Africa renders colonists-British and Dutchmore chary as to whom they receive day by day. It is a great pity this should be the case. It is a disgrace that countless countrymen of ours should care so little for the honour and reputation of old England as to lower it in the eyes of those to whom it is our true interest to appear in the best light. However, such is the case.

Of the colonists on the whole I have the very highest opinion, and I entertain feelings of regard and friendship for many of them of no ordinary character. They have done marvellous work in a marvellous manner in many ways, and have overcome obstacles of all kinds and submitted to innumerable hardships with patience and sang froid. The gentlemen of England who sit at home at ease little understand all this. They do not estimate at its true value the difficult and onerous work which falls to the lot of the colonists in various parts of South Africa, which work they have faithfully and ably discharged.

In conclusion, I may say that, on the whole, there is more warmth of heart and breadth of view in Africa than at home, which beget the comely virtues-when not carried too far-of indulgence, toleration, and liberality.

CHAPTER VIII.

IDIOSYNCRATIC SOUTH AFRICA.

"THEY DIVERT THEMSELVES WITH THE FOLLY OF FOOLS."

"What chiefly oppresses me with anxiety about the future is the kind of thing our young men talk about as life."-Rev. Jas. Baldwin Brown, B. A.

"New situations give a different caste
Of habit, inclination, temper, taste."

-Cowper.

THESE words are especially applicable to Africa, where the varied environment of circumstances and place develops many peculiarities and eccentricities. Pitched battles have been fought ere now on the science of idiosyncrasies, some holding that they betoken in their possessors incipient madness, while others regard them as the arrested budding of genius, which, from want of ballast or counterpoise, has opened out in an abnormal and unprofitable manner. I incline to the latter opinion, though there is no hard-and-fast rule by which the controversy can be determined one way or the other, and really all cases must be judged individually, and a decision arrived at in accordance with the respective aspects of the particular instance involved. As to the idiosyncrasies about which I am desirous of having my little say, none are of an extreme type, and they are all readily deducible from the circumstances peculiar to colonial life.

As pronounced perhaps as any colonial idiocrasy, is the antipathy to what is called "a touch from the tar-brush," in other words, a strain of black blood. The various causes which have operated to produce this strong prejudice would be curious and profitable investigations, but I shall not enter minutely into the explanation of the phenomenon. It is true that even a few of the very best Dutch families are slightly off-coloured, though one must affect in their presence to be unconscious of the fact, for the

slightest hint in this direction is regarded as being the most heinous personal affront.

While upon the subject of Dutch families, a curious fact concerning the Huguenot names may be worth the mentioning. The Dutch in their efforts to pronounce these names have corrupted them strangely, thus:

De Villiers is called Filge, Serrurier, Seringe. Some Dutch names are extremely commonly met with at the Cape, and there can be no doubt that the early settler for some time increased and multiplied very quickly. If that lying jade report has not again spoken falsely; I may say that this increase is to be accounted for by the very strong tendency to concubinage, which for a time prevailed, and also to the system which Byron thus describes: "They bred in and in, marrying their cousins, nay, their aunts and nieces, which often spoils the breed, though it increases"

The lower orders in Cape Town are a very heterogeneous mass. Goodness only knows the origin, or rather origins, of some of them. But they consider themselves, and expect to be considered, white. Many men and women in whose appearance you would find it hard to detect the slightest indication of the presence in their veins of the faintest filtration of white blood will stand you out that they are either English or Dutch, whichever race their natural predilections may induce them to honour. Shortly after my arrival in Cape Town, whilst on a visit to a friend in "The Gardens," and as yet being unaware of this peculiarity, I observed to my hostess that I would like her to request one of the black girls" to unpack my boxes. She looked horrified. In my innocence I spoke very audibly, and she evidently feared I should be overheard. "Please don't speak of the domestics as black girls, or I shall have them leaving at a moment's notice, or avenging themselves in some other unpleasant manner." And yet they were degenerate Hottentots, or the residuum of varied aboriginal tribes, as the vulgar phrase goes, "too numerous to mention," and I would swear if they had a drop of white blood in their veins that it had been excellently well watered out. Thus, it will be seen, that the colour is repudiated even by those who have no