at
Corunna; and on this memorable 5th of June when the British finally
took possession of Pretoria the Guards as at Belmont were again
privileged to "open the ball." But whilst they were busy seizing the
railway station and stock, with other points of strategic importance,
I took my first hasty stroll through the city; and among the earliest
objects of interest I came upon was the pedestal of a monument, with
the scaffolding still around it, but quite complete, except that the
actual statue which was to crown and constitute the summit was not
there.

"Whose monument is that?" I meekly asked. "Paul Kruger's," was the
prompt reply; "but the statue, made in Rome, has not yet arrived,
being detained at Delagoa Bay."

That statue now probably never will arrive, and possibly enough some
other figure,--perchance that of Victoria the Good,--will ultimately
be placed on that expectant pedestal, so making the monument complete.
"Which thing," as St Paul would say, "is an allegory!" That monument
in its present form is a precise epitome of the man it was meant to
honour. It is most complete by reason of its very incompleteness. The
chief feature in this essentially strong man's career, as also in his
monument, has reference to the foundation work he wrought. It was the
finish that was a failure, and in much more important matters than
this pile of chiselled granite, the work the late President commenced
in the Transvaal its new rulers must make it their business to carry
on, and, in worthier fashion, complete. We cannot begin _de novo_. For
better for worse, on foundations laid by Boers, Britons must be
content to build.

Close by, forming the main feature on one side of the city Square,
stood a remarkably fine building, intended to serve as a palace of
justice, but, like the monument in front of it, it was still
unfinished. In the Transvaal there was as yet no counterpart to that
most important clause in our own Magna Charta, which says "We will not
sell justice to any man." Corruption and coercion were familiar forces
alike in the making and the administration of its laws. In more senses
than one the Transvaal Government had not yet opened its courts of
justice. They mutely awaited the coming of the new _regime_.

In one of the main streets leading out of the Square stood the
President's private residence; a gift-house, so it is said, accepted
by him as a recompense for favours received. Compared with the
Residency at Blo