isfaction among the Hottentots, and on no subsequent occasion did they
give trouble. It was ever my endeavour to bind the natives to us by
esteem, to convince them that British rule was the most desireable rule
they could have.'

How winsomely Sir George made the Queen a living personality as well as a
mighty name to the native races! 'Ha-ha!' cried Maori; African,
Australian, 'the Queen is indeed our mother, for Governor Grey shows it
by his acts. But the eloquent word on that, came from an old Kaffir
woman, whom nobody owned, Lot Hrayi. This was her epistle, through the
Governor to the Queen:

'I am very thankful to you, dearest Queen Victoria, that you have sent,
for me, a good doctor, a clever man. I was sixteen years blind, Mother
and Queen, but now I see perfectly. I see everything. I can see the
stars, and the moon and the sun. I used to be led before; but now,
Mother, O Queen, I am able to walk myself. Let God bless you as long as
you live on earth; let God bless Mother! Thou must not be tired to bear
our infirmities, O Queen Victoria.'

To Sir George, Lot Hrayi's despatch was a State paper. 'Native races,' he
laid down, 'understood personal rule, and the great thing was to make the
Queen vivid, a reality, to them. England? Yes, it was a place far
distant, where there were no dark-skinned peoples. The Queen of England?
Ah, yes, they could comprehend her! She sat on a throne, so beautiful
that its place must be where all was beautiful and good. Her heart beat
for her folk, irrespective of their colour; she would minister to their
happiness. Nothing could more delight her, than to secure the well-being
of those who claimed her powerful protection. That was intelligible!

'Thus, when I had a measure of mercy, of justice, or of guidance to
announce, I did it directly, in the Queen's name, and in the native
languages. It was the Queen's utterance, though spoken by me, and it
would be difficult to indicate how well the charm worked. Go into a
cottage, in almost any part of England, and you will, I judge, find a
portrait of the Queen hanging on the whitewashed walls. There were no
portraits in the Kaffir kraals, yet the Queen entered them, a beneficent
influence in many a crisis.'

Striving to attach the Kaffirs, Sir George granted them written titles to
their lands. They could not at first perceive the object of the
parchment, and he would express it thus: 'If you have any trouble with
your lands, it is only nece