scious, reflection of the
unsettled state of mind with which the hon. gentleman entered politics,
and which led to embarrassing attention from the rival Whips.

LORD RANDOLPH CHURCHILL.

The interest attached to Lord Randolph Churchill's reappearance on the
Parliamentary scene proved one of the most interesting and significant
incidents in the early days of the new Parliament. There is no doubt
that, whatever be his present views and intentions, Lord Randolph years
ago convinced himself that he was cut adrift from the political world,
and that it had no charms to lure him back. He began by giving up to
Newmarket what was meant for mankind, took a share in a stable, and
regulated his social and other engagements in London not by the Order
Book of the House of Commons, but by the fixtures in the "Racing
Calendar." He was seen only fitfully in his place at the corner seat
behind his esteemed friends and leaders then in office. A year later he
went off to Mashonaland, and for a full Session Westminster knew him no
more.

[Illustration: "NEWMARKET."]

[Illustration: "MASHONALAND."]

When the new Parliament began its sittings Lord Randolph in private
conversation was not less insistent as to the permanency of his act of
renunciation. He was tired of politics, he said, and saw no future for
himself in an assembly where at one time he was a commanding figure.
Some of his friends, whilst puzzled and occasionally staggered by his
insistence on this point, have always refused to accept his view of the
possibilities of the future. A dyspeptic duck gloomily eyeing an old
familiar pond might protest that never again would it enter the water.
But as long as the duck lives and the water remains, they are certain to
come together again. So it has been with Lord Randolph Churchill, who
in this Session has, quite naturally, returned to his old haunts, and
with a single speech regained much of his old position.

It is possible that accident, untoward in itself, may have had something
to do with hastening the conclusion. When the House first met amid a
fierce tussle for seats, Lord Randolph found his place at the corner of
the second bench in peril of appropriation. If he desired to retain it,
it would obviously be necessary for him to be down every day in time for
prayers. Rather than face that discipline he would suffer the company of
his old colleagues on the Front Opposition Bench. As a Privy Councillor
and ex-Minister he had a r