Irish politics would seem the rock a-head of every man in the House. On these unhappy questions all are shipwrecked: the Premier loses party--Party loses confidence--members displease constituents, and _protégés_ offend their patrons. Such was my own case: the Duke who owned the borough of Collyton, resolved on making a great stand and show of his influence in both Houses. All his followers, myself among the number, were summoned to a conference, when the tactic of attack should be adopted, and each assigned his fitting part. To me was allotted the office of replying to the first speaker of the Treasury Bench--a post of honour and of danger, and only distasteful because impossible: the fact was, that my own opinions were completely with the Government on the subject in dispute, and consequently at open variance with those of my own friends. This I declared at once, endeavouring to shew why my judgment had so inclined, and what arguments I believed to be unanswerable. Instead of replying to my reasons, or convincing me of their inefficiency, my colleagues only ap-pealed to the “necessity of union”--the imperative call of party--and “the impossibility,” as they termed it, “of betraying the Duke.” I immediately resolved to resign my seat, and accept the Chiltern Hundreds. To this there was a unanimous cry of dissent, one and all pronouncing that such a step would damage them more even than my fiercest opposition. The Duke sat still and said nothing. Somewhat offended at this, I made a personal appeal to him resolving by the tone of his reply to guide my future conduct. He was too old a politician to give me any clue to his sentiments, shrouding his meaning in vague phrases of compliment to my talents, and his perfect confidence that, however my judgment inclined, I should be able to shew sufficient reasons for my opinion. I went home baffled, worried, and ill. I sent for Brodie. “You cannot speak on the coming question,” said he; “there is a great threat of haemorrhage from the lungs--you must have rest and quiet. Keep beyond the reach of excitement for a few weeks--don’t even read the newspapers. Go over to Spa--there you can be quite alone.”