Sixteen years ago Cecil J. Rhodes, then a man of small means and no political record, stood in a small Kimberley shop and looked for a long time at a map of Africa which hung on the wall. An acquaintance who had watched him for several minutes stepped up to Rhodes and asked whether he was attempting to find the location of Kimberley. Mr. Rhodes made no reply for several seconds, then placed his right hand over the map, and covered a large part of South and Central Africa from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean. "All that British!" he said. "That is my dream." [Illustration: The Rt. Hon. Cecil J. Rhodes on the piazza of his residence, Groote Schuur, at Rondebosch, near Cape Town.] "I will give you ten years to realize it," replied the friend. "Give me ten more," said Rhodes, "and then we’ll have a new map." Three fourths of the required time has elapsed, and the full realization of Rhodes’s dream must take place within the next four years. There remain only two small spaces on that part of the map which was covered by Rhodes’s hand that are not British, and those are the Orange Free State and the South African Republic. Mr. Rhodes’s success will come hand-in-hand with the death of the two republics. The life of the republics hinges on his failure, and good fortune has rarely deserted him. Twenty-seven years ago Cecil Rhodes, then a tall, thin college lad, was directed by his physician to go to South Africa if he wished to live more than three years. He and his brother Herbert, the sons of the poor rector of Bishop Stortford, sailed for Durban, Natal, and reached that port while the diamond fever was at its height at Kimberley. The two boys, each less than nineteen years old, joined a party of adventurers and prospectors, and, after many vicissitudes, reached the Kimberley fields safely, but with little or no money. The boys were energetic, and found opportunities for making money where others could see none. The camp was composed of the roughest characters in South Africa, all of whom had flocked thither when the discovery of diamonds was first announced. Illicit diamond buying was the easiest path to wealth, and was travelled by almost every millionaire whose name has been connected with recent South African affairs. Mr. Rhodes is one of the few exceptions, and even his enemies corroborate the statement. "You don’t steal diamonds," said Barney Barnato to Mr. Rhodes fifteen years ago, "but you must prove it when accused. I steal them, but my enemies must prove it. That’s the difference between us."