and negro administrators, to permit him to entertain any very
enthusiastic anticipations with regard to the future of the
African race. He writes in his journal for July 8 1858: "Motley
called. I like him much. We agree wonderfully well about slavery,
and it is not often that I meet any person with whom I agree on
that subject. For I hate slavery from the bottom of my soul; and
yet I am made sick by the cant and the silly mock reasons of the
Abolitionists. The nigger driver and the negrophile are two odious
things to me. I must make Lady Macbeth's reservation: 'Had he not
resembled--,'"] The Governor must have looked back with regret to
that period in the history of the colony when he was underhanded
in the clerical department.

But his interest in the negro could bear ruder shocks than an
occasional outburst of eccentric fanaticism. He liked his work,
because he liked those for whom he was working. "Poor people," he
writes, "one cannot help loving them. With all their trying
humours, they have a warmth of affection which is really
irresistible." For their sake he endured all the risk and worry
inseparable from a long engagement kept by the lady among
disapproving friends, and by the gentleman at Sierra Leone. He
stayed till the settlement had begun to thrive, and the Company
had almost begun to pay; and until the Home Government had given
marked tokens of favour and protection, which some years later
developed into a negotiation under which the colony was
transferred to the Crown. It was not till 1799 that he finally
gave up his appointment, and left a region which, alone among
men, he quitted with unfeigned, and, except in one particular,
with unmixed regret. But for the absence of an Eve, he regarded
the West Coast of Africa as a veritable Paradise, or, to use his