because neither of them had yet assumed the evidenced consistency of
actual fact. There was no public opinion to support the Government or
to save the Republic. The Boers lived far apart from each other,
whilst the annexationists and the party of disorder dwelt, in compact
communities, in towns and mining villages. Into the midst of this
confusion--into the capital of this bewildered State--entered Sir
Theophilus Shepstone and his staff. He had not come to seize the
country--he had come as 'an adviser, as a helper, and as a friend';
but his advent was a blight--an incubus which rendered additionally
powerless the unfortunate President and his Council. The coming of
Sir Theophilus Shepstone was, to the minds of nearly all, but too
clearly the forerunner of change. In the face of this additional
whet to the anticipations of the party of disturbance, something
that has been described as anarchy prevailed. Everyone waited; all
fell into a state of expectation; no one attempted to save the State,
or repel the danger. At the same time, there was no anarchy in the
proper sense of the word. Justice sat on her seat; criminals were
arrested and brought to trial; actions at law were heard and
determined; and in no one place, save the goldfields, was authority,
even for a moment, defied. There the law vindicated itself without
having used violence or shed one drop of blood. Not one single
public outrage, not one unpunished crime, marked this period of
suspense, which is described by partizan writers as a time of
chaos and anarchy.

Peace was granted to Secocoeni, and the quietness and gloom of the
country became even more profound.

Now, had a commission, royal or joint, been opened in Pretoria to
inquire into the truth of the allegations made against the