Before passing on, it is necessary to state that during the period from 1878 to 1879, the native chief Sekukuni--Cetchwayo's dog, as the blacks called him--had become obstreperous. He had been engaged in raids into the Transvaal--raids of the same character as those which, as has been already mentioned, had helped to bring about the collapse of the Republic. Colonel Rowland's expedition, which started in November 1878 for the suppression of this ruffian, was baffled by fever and horse sickness. Colonel Lanyon in the following June returned to the attack, and was on the eve of success, when Sir Garnet Wolseley (who arrived late in that month) sent orders to cease operations. These orders he found, on reaching the Transvaal, to be a mistake. Sekukuni was not a person to be trifled with nor ignored, so the campaign began again in November, with the result that within a period of eight days the chief's stronghold was taken and himself made prisoner. About fifty Europeans and some five hundred Swazi allies were killed or wounded. Here we see, within one year, how much was done for the protection of the Transvaal at the cost of British money and British blood. Looking back, it is easy to perceive that, but for our intervention, the South African Republic would have been slowly but effectually swallowed up. Cetchwayo and Sekukuni between them would have made a meal of the Transvaal. The brilliant and complete success of Sir Garnet Wolseley was highly praised, and the names of Colonel Lanyon, Captain Clark, R.A., and Captain Carrington especially mentioned as deserving a share of the credit for the accurate information they had collected during the previous months. So much having been done for the security of the Boers and for the maintenance of British prestige, it is no marvel that Sir Garnet Wolseley thought himself justified in expressing the trend of British policy in plain terms. At the dinner given at Pretoria on the 17th of December 1879 he took the opportunity of making the British programme well understood. He declared with emphasis that there could be no question of resigning the sovereignty of the country. "There is no Government," he said, "Whig or Tory, Liberal, Conservative, or Radical, who would dare under any circumstances to give back this country. They would not dare, because the English people would not allow them!" At that time it was evident that Sir Garnet had never heard the story of the philanthropic Belarmine, an individual who gave himself to the she-bear to save her and her young ones from starvation. Or, if the tale was known to him, he probably took it for what it was worth, and never foresaw that the British Government would emulate the action of the self-sacrificing lunatic, and spend precious blood for the sole purpose of nourishing and resuscitating the powers of a languishing enemy. MR. GLADSTONE OUT OF OFFICE AND IN OFFICE