n who indulged in this charming pastime of
always trying to dupe their fellow creatures, Rhodes' moral sense relaxed.
It is only surprising that he kept about him so much that was good and
great, and that he did not succumb altogether to the contamination which
affected everything and everybody around him. Happily for him he cherished
his own ambitions, had his own dreams for companions, his absorption in
the great work he had undertaken; these things were his salvation.
Rhodesia became the principal field of Rhodes' activity, and the care with
which he fostered its prosperity kept him too busy and interested to
continue the quest for riches which had been his great, if not his
principal, occupation during the first years of his stay in South Africa.

Although Cecil Rhodes was so happily placed that he had no need to bother
over wealth, he was not so aloof to the glamour of politics. He had always
felt the irk of his retirement after the Raid, and the hankering after a
leading political position became more pronounced as the episode which
shut the Parliamentary door behind him after he had passed through its
portals faded in the mind of the people.

It was not surprising, therefore, to observe that politics once more took
the upper hand amidst his preoccupations. It was, though, politics
connected with the development of the country that bore his name more than
with the welfare of the Cape Colony or of the Transvaal. It was only
during the last two years of Rhodes' existence that his interest revived
in the places connected with his first successes in life. Rhodes had been
convinced that a war with the Boers would last only a matter of a few
weeks--three months, as he prophesied when it broke out--and he was
equally sure, though for what reason it is difficult to guess, that the
war would restore him to his former position and power. The illusion
lingered long enough to keep him in a state of excitement, during which,
carried along by his natural enthusiasm, he indulged in several
unconsidered steps, and when at last his hope was dispelled he accused
everybody of being the cause of his disappointment. Never for a moment
would he admit that he could have been mistaken, or that the war, which at
a certain moment his intervention might possibly have avoided, had been
the consequence of the mischievous act he had not prevented.

When the Bloemfontein Conference failed Rhodes was not altogether
displeased. He had felt the a