The next visit I made was to see trouble in a different guise, not the wasting of incurable disease, nor the visitation of a hopeless malady, but to see two men whose lives were being eaten away by the canker-worm of despair—Cetywayo and Langibalele! To those who have resided in South Africa during the last twenty years these names will recall many an anxious time to colonists, brought about, in my humble opinion, not by the desire of the colonists to do anything which was not legal and right—but in the first place by a want of tact in dealing with natives, and in the second from an uncontrollable infatuation seizing hold of one, spreading like an epidemic to all. Not two years had passed since “Cetywayo” had been in every one’s mouth, and had been the hero of the hour. Again had Bishop Colenso come forward to see fair play done to one whom he thought had been wrongly used, and again, as in Langibalele’s case, had he gained for himself the ill-will of the colonists. I had formed a decided opinion about these cases and was naturally anxious to study the “fons et origo mali” of each complication, and accompanied by my wife and various friends I paid Cetywayo several visits. The drive of an hour in an open carriage, in such a climate as the Cape possesses on a fine winter afternoon, was pleasure enough to make even the Cape flats and bad roads enjoyable. Upon these despised flats, in an old Dutch house, with the usual lofty and spacious rooms, which, however desirable when adorned and well furnished, look gaunt and cheerless when neglected and empty, Cetywayo, the captive Zulu king, dragged out the weary days of his heart-breaking suspense. We were received by the king in a room that was bare save for a few chairs, and Cetywayo, a fine, large man, of dignified mien and sad, gentle expression, dressed in an ill-cut blue serge suit, and sitting ill at ease in an arm chair, looked a long way from being “at home.” He must have been a fine sight indeed in his royal kraal dressed in handsome umutye (tails, pronounced moochas) when in the height of his pride and state.