n the flush of youth had begun his
political career with the announcement of his firm resolve to resist,
from whatever quarter it might come, any attempt which might tend to
weaken the union between Canada and the mother country, fittingly
closed it forty-seven years later by an appeal to the people of the
Dominion to aid him in his last effort 'for the unity of the Empire and
the preservation of our commercial and political freedom.' He won, but
the effort proved too great for his waning vitality, and within three
months of his victory he passed away.

In _The Times_ of September 1, 1903, Dr L. S. (now Sir Starr) Jameson
published this letter from Cecil Rhodes to Sir John Macdonald:

CAPE TOWN, 8_th May_ 1891.

DEAR SIR,--I wished to write and congratulate you on winning the
elections in Canada. I read your manifesto and I could understand the
issue. If I might express a wish, it would be that we could meet
before our stern fate claims us. I might write pages, but I feel I
know you and your politics as if we had been friends for years. The
whole thing lies in the {175} question, Can we invent some tie with our
mother country that will prevent separation? It must be a practical
one, for future generations will not be born in England. The curse is
that English politicians cannot see the future. They think they will
always be the manufacturing mart of the world, but do not understand
what protection coupled with reciprocal relations means. I have taken
the liberty of writing to you; if you honour me with an answer I will
write again.--

Yours,
C. J. RHODES.

PS. You might not know who I am, so I will say I am the Prime Minister
of this Colony--that is the Cape Colony.

Sir John Macdonald never received this letter. It was written in South
Africa in May, and Sir John died on June 6.

Sir John Macdonald's resemblance to Lord Beaconsfield has often been
remarked. That it must have been striking is evident from Sir Charles
Dilke's comment:

The first time I saw Sir John Macdonald was shortly after Lord
Beaconsfield's death and as the clock struck midnight. I was {176}
starting from Euston station, and there appeared at the step of the
railway carriage, in Privy Councillor's uniform (the right to wear
which is confined to so small a number of persons that one expects to
know by sight those who wear it), a figure precisely similar to that of
the late Conservative leader, and it required, indeed,