would win the hearts of the people, issue forth, all smiles and bows, snap his fingers at the heathen priest who had instigated the rabble, and set out for home, often after a supper of warm milk and bread, escorted by the very men who had, a few hours ago, put him into the cow-shed prison! Such was Mr. Montgomery, the missionary.
Yet one more. The Rev. Van Someren Taylor. This very day, 27th June 1881, as I am sitting down to record my sense of his worth, I hear of his sudden death at Edinburgh. I had not the honour of being one of his pupils. But Mr. Taylor did that for me which he scarcely could have had the opportunity of doing for many others. To him I am indebted for my success as a Gujaráti writer. He was my first literary guide and friend. He was the first to approve what had been neglected by many others; and but for his encouragement, I am not sure if I could at all have ventured to publish my works in the face of general discouragement from other friends.
Mr. Taylor was essentially a missionary, a devoted and indefatigable worker, a genuine scholar, and a genial friend. I believe that the
