Sparks will fly upwards, and Mr. Chamberlain has had his troubles, but
he does not wear his heart on his sleeve, or carry his woes into the
market place. I remember many years ago, under the stress of severe
domestic affliction, he retired into private life for a considerable
period, and it was said that during his self-imposed obscurity he sought
occupation and solace in the study of Blue Books. Anyway, when he
emerged into public life again he appeared as the author of a magazine
article of an advanced political character, which seemed to shew that he
had spent his solitude in studying and trying to solve some of the large
political problems of the day.

In contemplating Mr. Chamberlain's remarkable career and his high rise
in the political world, I am tempted to wonder whether he would have
built his large mansion near Birmingham if he could have foreseen the
immediate future. When he made up his mind to erect his house at a great
cost he perhaps scarcely dreamed he would so soon become a Cabinet
Minister. Possibly he looked forward to being little more than a local
member of Parliament--for he is not, I fancy, a dreamer of dreams--and
felt he should like to pitch his tent near to his constituency.

Anyway he built his house at Moor Green, which he called "Highbury"
after the name of the district in London where he was born. The house is
well situated, though in some respects hardly built upon a site worthy
of such a costly residence. It stands on a piece of rising ground, and
commands a good prospect. In the front of it are the Lickey and Clent
Hills some eight or ten miles away, but in the mid-distance is a
manufacturing suburb with several tall chimneys which are obtrusively
conspicuous, and which behave as factory chimneys generally do, scarcely
improving the prospect or the atmosphere. These disadvantages were, I
believe, pointed out to him before a brick was laid, but he had made up
his mind, and when it is made up I fancy it is made up very much.

The day may come when he may be able to spend but little of his time at
his Highbury home, but he has children who will keep the house inhabited
and well aired if he himself does not. His eldest son, Mr. Austen
Chamberlain, M.P. for one of the Worcestershire divisions, is in
training to walk in his father's footsteps, and to see eye to eye--or I
might say eye-glass to eye-glass--with him in matters political. What
the future of this eldest son may be it is not for m