lenty and immigration have bred up an enormous native population. In
Zululand, war, private slaughter by the king's order, and the severe
restrictions put upon marriage, have kept down the increase of the race;
also an enormous number of individuals have fled from the one country
into the other. I do not suppose that the population of Zululand
amounts, at the present moment, to much more than half that of Natal.

In this state of affairs lies the only real key to the Natal native
difficulty. Let Zululand be converted into a black colony under
English control, and its present inhabitants be established in suitable
locations; then let all the natives of Natal, with the exception of
those who choose to become monogamists and be subject to civilised law,
be moved into Zululand, and also established in locations. There would
be plenty of room for them all. Of course there would be difficulties in
the way of the realisation of this scheme, but I do not think that they
would prove insuperable. It is probable, however, that it would require
a show of force before the Natal natives would consent to budge. Indeed,
it is absurd to suppose, that anything would induce them to leave
peaceful Natal, and plunge into the seething cauldron of bloodshed,
extortion, and political plots that we have cooked up in Zululand under
the name of a settlement. Proper provisions must first be made for
the government of the country, and security to life and property made
certain. Till this is done, no natives in their senses will return to
Zululand.

Till this is done, too, or till some other plan is discovered by means
of which the native difficulty can be effectively dealt with, the
Natalians will indeed be foolish if they discard the protection of
England, and accept the fatal boon of self-government. If they do, their
future career may be brilliant; but I believe that it will be brief.

It is no answer to urge that at present the natives seem quite quiet,
and that there is no indication of disturbance.

History tells us that before the destruction of doomed Pompeii,
Vesuvius was very still; only day by day the dark cloud hanging over
the mountain's summit grew denser and blacker. We know what happened to
Pompeii.

I do not wish to suggest anything unpleasant, far from it; but
sometimes, I cannot help thinking, that it is perhaps a matter worth the
consideration of the Natalians, whether it might not be as well, instead
of talking about respo