It was a sad sight to watch the ethical degradation of one of the most
remarkable intelligences among the men of his generation; it was
heartrending to see him fall every day more and more into the power of
unscrupulous people who did nothing else but exploit him for their own
benefit. South Africa has always been the land of adventurers, and many a
queer story could be told. That of Cecil John Rhodes was, perhaps, the
most wonderful and the most tragic.

Whether he realised this retrogression himself it is difficult to say.
Sometimes one felt that such might be the case, whilst at others it seemed
as if he viewed his own fate only as something absolutely wonderful and
bound to develop in the future even more prosperously than it had done in
the past. There was always about him something of the "tragediante,
comediante" applied to Napoleon by Pope Pius VII., and it is absolutely
certain that he often feigned sentiments which he did not feel, anger
which he did not experience, and pleasure that he did not have. He was a
being of fits and starts, moods and fancies, who liked to pose in such a
way as to give others an absolutely false idea of his personality when he
considered it useful to his interests to do so. At times it was evident he
experienced regret, but it is doubtful whether he knew the meaning of
remorse. The natives seldom occupied his thoughts, and if he were reminded
in later years that, after all, terrible cruelties had been practised in
Mashonaland or in Matabeleland, he used simply to shrug his shoulders and
to remark that it was impossible to make an omelette without breaking some
eggs. It never occurred to him that there might exist people who objected
to the breaking of a certain kind of eggs, and that humanity had a right
to be considered even in conquest.

And, after all, was this annexation of the dominions of poor Lobengula a