understood that bygone members of his family had been extensive contributors, and from which he doubtless derived much edification and support. During this period he was very properly altogether inaccessible; and it would in fact have been dangerous to disturb him. It is hardly necessary to say that we were careful to run no risk of thus incurring his displeasure; but we considered it only right to follow the example of our chief by allowing our own minds to unbend in other directions. Not long after I joined, the premises occupied by the office were enlarged by the annexation of some territory on the upper floor of No. 11 Downing Street, the Chancellor of the Exchequer's house next door; and one afternoon, when two or three of us were exploring the new quarters, we came upon a staircase in a dark corner that appeared to lead nowhere in particular. This clearly needed investigation; but on ascending as far as we could go, we found to our surprise that it ended abruptly about five feet below a landing to which in the ordinary fitness of things it ought to have led. We were not long, however, in pulling ourselves up by our arms, and there we found a nest of three or four small square rooms, unfurnished and uninhabited, and evidently not intended for present use. We looked at each other, and one great thought simultaneously flashed upon us--it was clear that Providence had designed these rooms for fives courts. We lost no time in carrying our idea into execution and communicating our discovery to others; and afternoon fives soon became a regular institution, shifts from the various departments relieving each other as the 'exigencies of the public service' permitted. But the attention of some high functionary on the first floor began to be attracted by a curious rumbling sound, accompanied by vibrations, that appeared to set in about the same time every afternoon. The building was an old one, and some uneasiness began to be felt as to the possibility of there being anything wrong with the foundations or superstructure. But this idea was soon dismissed, and, moreover, such scientific investigations as were within the scope of the officekeeper and his assistants appeared to point to the disturbances proceeding from above rather than below. The end of it all was that one afternoon we were caught in flagrante delicto, and arraigned before the higher authorities. We expected to get a tremendous wigging, but I am bound to say that they behaved in the most gentlemanlike manner, and we were merely told that we must go and play somewhere else.' Another and even more popular recreation, being within the compass of those who by nature or disposition were not appealed to by the more energetic exercise of fives, was that of dart-throwing. I cannot remember exactly how this began, but it rapidly 'caught on.' A target was marked out on a cupboard door (in my room, I regret to state); an office needle, inserted in an office pencil from which the lead had been partially removed, firmly secured by red tape, and weighted with sealing-wax, formed the dart; and everything was complete. It was a most fascinating occupation,

and even some of the higher-not quite the highest-officials would occasionally succumb to it. They would come in and frown sternly at us, but would at the same time seize upon a dart and indulge in a few minutes' target practice, which they appeared to enjoy as keenly as ourselves. With this support, we felt that our proceedings were thoroughly hallowed and justified; and it seemed in fact to be generally recognised that the sport of dart-throwing was not a practice that called for official interference.

All this may no doubt appear somewhat frivolous; but it may perhaps be excused as tending to illustrate the contrast between the past and the present time, when the staff of the office is more than doubled, when ceaseless activity prevails from early in the morning till any time in the evening, the busiest period of the day often being at an hour when in former days the office would have been silent and deserted, and when anyone who should suggest the idea of fives or dart-throwing as an agreeable and lawful relaxation would be regarded as having taken leave of his senses. I will now endeavour to approach my subject in a more serious manner.

I had not been long in the Colonial Office before I began to experience a growing sense of disappointment—a feeling that somehow or other things were not what I had expected, or what in my opinion they ought to have been. I will not pretend that there was anything 'Imperial' about my sentiments at that early age; but I had nevertheless formed certain ideals, which seemed in a fair way to be rudely dispelled. I had pictured the Colonial Office to myself as a dignified abode of mystery, excitement, and la haute politique, where I should be entrusted with weighty secrets, and where, in plain English, I should be able to 'fancy myself' as an active participator in some of the most important and delicate affairs of State. Instead of this, I found myself in a sleepy and humdrum office, where important work was no doubt done, but simply because it had got to be done; where there seemed no enthusiasm, no esprit de corps, and no encouragement for individual exertion. And, what to my foolish imagination seemed worst of all, I very soon began to realise that the Colonial Office did not occupy the position in the eyes of the world that even I was able to feel it ought to have done. I could not understand this at the time, but I understand it very well now.

Among Leech's early Victorian Pictures of Life and Character, from the collection of Mr. Punch,' there appears an illustration of the meeting of two Dandy M.P.s' in Rotten Row—

'FIRST DANDY M.P.-Pwowogation to be late this year on account of some Colonial bills, I hear.

"SECOND DITTO-Bother the Colonies! havn't we done enough for 'em this year? Didn't West Australian win the Darby?'

This, I am afraid, strikes the keynote of the general feeling of the official, political, and general public regarding the Colonies at that time

and for many a long year afterwards. The Colonies were simply a bore. They were there somehow, and they had got to be maintained, but at as little expense and with as little trouble as possible. They might now and then provide a subject for abstract discussion, and might even come in useful occasionally for political purposes; but they were not recognised as constituting an integral factor in the life of the nation, and they just had to take their chance. No doubt there were some, even in those days, endowed with sufficient instinct to foresee greater possibilities in the future, and who, if they had had their way, might have helped to anticipate the long-delayed awakening. But the time had not come; there was absolutely no popular feeling to support them, and they would simply have been crying in the wilderness. What wonder is it therefore that stagnation prevailed even at the Colonial Office? It is not for me to pass judgment on my former chiefs or their predecessors. The roll of bygone Secretaries of State contains the names of many well-known and able statesmen, who can hardly be described as unfitted for such a position. Whether they were invariably selected for any special interest in or capacity for dealing with Colonial affairs is another matter. But it would have required an exceptionally powerful and determined Colonial Minister in those days to inaugurate any new developments in Colonial affairs, and he certainly would not have received much encouragement or assistance from the permanent staff. There were able enough men in their way at the head of the office, men who would no doubt have distinguished themselves in any position, and of whom it could never even be suggested that they were not acting for what they believed to be the best; but their views on Colonial matters would hardly now be regarded as large-minded or sympathetic; and when I recall the general tenour of the policy that was openly and deliberately advocated by them as the advisers of the Secretary of State, I can only wonder that we have any Colonies left.

But it is only fair to say that the state of things which I have described, and which prevailed during the early years of my official life, was even then gradually, though slowly, coming to a close. It happened, in fact, that I entered just towards the end of the bad old days. The inception in 1867 of the negotiations leading up to the establishment of the Dominion of Canada was bound to attract a certain amount of public interest to Colonial affairs. The stagnant waters of the Colonial Office began to be stirred by an occasional breath of life; and the advent in 1871 of Sir Robert (then Mr.) Herbert as Permanent Under-Secretary may, I think, be regarded as the beginning of a new era. By this time telegraphic communication had been established with the Eastern Colonies, Australia, and the West Indies, though the linking-up of South Africa was still some years distant. Things began to move in connexion with the selfgoverning Colonies, as was only to be expected under Sir Robert Herbert, himself a former Colonial Premier; but little advance was

as yet made in other directions, and the further development of our Crown Colonies and Protectorates, which perhaps represents a more important aspect of the question than is generally supposed, was yet to come. And here a word on this last subject might not be out of place.

I have already referred to the ignorance of and want of interest in Colonial affairs that formerly existed; but I have often been struck by the extent to which they still prevail. Take any average gathering of English gentlemen, at a club, a dinner-party, a meet of hounds, or anywhere else, and—barring soldiers who have seen foreign service, sailors, and officials-I very much doubt whether even now one in five would be able to define correctly the difference between a Crown and a self-governing colony, or even to say where half of them were. You may endeavour to explain, but it is of no use; they look at you hopelessly, and go away sorrowfully; it is too much for them, and they give it up. One of course thinks nothing of being asked to assist in obtaining a British consulship in a British Colony for some friend or relative; it is perhaps too much to expect that the difference between a Colony and a foreign country should be universally understood; but it is a common thing for candidates for Crown Colony appointments-well educated and of good position to state when filling up the form of application that they would prefer to go to Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and sometimes India! And only the other day I was talking to a highly respectable member of the House of Lords, who takes an intelligent interest in public affairs, but who had never heard of Northern or Southern Nigeria, and whose ideas of our West African possessions were limited to 'some place called the Gold Coast.' It was a revelation to him, and a somewhat staggering one, to learn that in that quarter of the world there were vast inland territories, with an enormous trade, rapidly being developed by roads, railways and other accompaniments of civilisation, and offering almost endless possibilities in the future. And there are thousands in the same position who are equally uninformed. The Colonies' to them merely suggest Canada, Australia, South Africa, and possibly, as becoming a winter resort, the West Indies; but their ideas as to the rest of our Colonial Empire are, to say the least, somewhat vague. The great self-governing Colonies and Dominions must of course always occupy the first place in the public mind. They are nations in themselves; their climatic conditions render them the natural outlets for emigration; and they are united to us by ties that in the case of most of the Crown Colonies and Protectorates cannot in the nature of things be said to exist. But I have often felt that the growing importance and significance of the latter is not realised or understood as it ought to be, and that they have had to occupy too much of a back seat' in the public estimation. Neither is it sufficiently realised what service is being rendered there—not

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only in our old-established Colonies, each with its carefully thoughtout system of government and administration, but in our enormous and rapidly developing Protectorates in East and West Africa-by an army of silent but devoted workers, with no political or other axes to grind, often carrying their lives in their hands, and empirebuilders' in the truest sense of the word.

6

If I were asked to fix the date when the Colonial Office really began to assume its proper position, I should be inclined to place it approximately in the autumn of 1886, when Mr. Stanhope succeeded Lord Granville as Secretary of State. He was only five months in office, and it is hardly probable that his name will now be associated to any great extent with Colonial affairs. But there must still be some who will be able to call to mind the remarkable energy, capacity, and enthusiasm with which he entered upon the duties of his office. I was his principal private secretary during this short period, and was perhaps therefore in a better position than most others to realise the broad, statesmanlike, and original ideas entertained by him, and which struck me as quite unlike anything else to which I had previously been accustomed. His whole heart was in his work, and it was a bitter disappointment to him when after these few months he was called upon to abandon it, and to undertake the charge of a department where many others had failed, and where he had a consciousness that he himself could not hope to succeed. He told me that nothing would have induced him to accept the War Office had it not been that the greatest pressure was brought to bear upon him, and that, being the youngest member of the Cabinet, he felt that it was his duty to put his own hopes and aspirations on one side and conform to the wishes of his chief. But there never was a greater mistake. His career at the War Office and comparatively early death are now matters of history; but I have no hesitation in saying that by his removal a Colonial Secretary of exceptional promise was lost to the country. The state of things at the War Office at that time may be imagined, when I mention that he told me subsequently that it had taken him two years to master the intricacies of the various departments, and to form even an idea of how the work was supposed to be done. It is perhaps not generally known or remembered that it was Mr. Stanhope who initiated the idea of the first Colonial Conference, the invitations to which were sent out by him in November, 1886; but it was not granted to him to carry out the development of his idea, which passed into the able hands of Lord Knutsford, then Sir Henry Holland. It cannot be said that any great practical results were the outcome of this conference; but the first step had been taken; the attention of the country had been attracted; and Colonial affairs were now beginning to occupy their proper place.

But I am now approaching a period of contemporary history, with which the public is or ought to be as familiar as myself, and as