A committee was formed to raise some testimonial to the Dean’s worth, and they invited me to join them. They acted in correspondence with the Chapter, and it was determined that a painted window should be placed in the cathedral, and that it should contain symbols of the evangelists, and the scenes of our Lord’s Temptation, in the larger circles; whilst the four smaller ones around, were to contain subjects showing that He exercised miraculous power of the same kinds, in which He refused to exert it, at the Tempter’s suggestion.
In the following year I lost a valued friend, member of our Kensington church, Sir Donald F. Macleod, C.B., K.C.S.I. He had occupied the position of Lieutenant-Governor of the Punjaub, and met his death from a railway accident in December, 1872. He possessed a rare gift for putting himself into kindly fellowship with those he ruled, whether rich or poor, entering into their feelings and cultivating their regard so that he acquired a widespread influence in the Indian province, which might be called the country of his adoption. All the people loved him as a friend and father; hence it was said, that if the natives had to choose a prince, he would be their choice. In a leading journal, the remark of an Indian gentleman was preserved to the effect, that, “If all Christians were like Sir Donald, there would be no Mahomedans or Hindoos.” His private life was of a piece with his public career. He had the power of making numerous friendships through the happy blending of religion with an affectionate disposition. “Wherever he went,” said a relative, “his presence was like sunshine, and the sunshine was the reflection of another presence, even of Him of whom it is said, ‘In Thy presence is fulness of joy.’” As he communed with us at Kensington, and was a personal friend, I can bear testimony to his cheerful manners in company. His tall, commanding figure attracted attention, and his calm, pleasant utterances won all hearts, especially those of the young, who would gather round him, attracted by the magic of his sympathy. This Indian gentleman visited the Cripples’ Home; this Oriental scholar addressed a class in the East of London; this ruler, who might have died a rich nabob, gave away the surplus of his income in acts of charity.