He was one of the gentlest and most refined men that I ever met; even the most savage Kaffir loved him, and his influence was a very good one for me.

He used to call himself one of the world's failures.

Would that there were more such failures.

Every morning when his work was done he would take his prayer-book and, sitting on the little stoep or verandah of our station, would read the evening psalms to himself.

Sometimes there was not light enough for this, but it made no difference, he knew them all by heart.