Sir Bartle Frere grows on us, on acquaintance, and must
grow even more rapidly on Sir Michael Hicks-Beach. His despatch of June 18th, acknowledging receipt of the telegram notifying Sir Garnet Wolsoley's appointment and advent, is a really great composition, though couched in a somewhat obsolete school of -quasi-parental displeasure. Through thirty-one paragraphs he lectures the Colonial Secretary on past, present, and future,—recapitulates the chief features of his own great -policy, as if they were the features of a code of re- vealed religion, — points out the dangers of the step just taken, anticipates the moment when the step just taken may be taken back again, and the great policy go on afresh. It is evident that Sir Bartle Frere is what our parents and guardians used to call " grieved, but not angry ;" he sees much excuse for the Government, but he sees even more clearly the dangers into which they are plunging headlong. Luckily, they have still him, to advise and reprove them,—and he does both, with an air something between that of a statesman and a saint. If Sir Michael Beach has anything of the statesman in him, he will see at last that Sir Bartle Frere is no safe High Commissioner, even for the Cape.
