I was but one of a large number of members who, during 1888, entered the House for the first time. To one who had not had the inclination, even if one had the time, previous to this, for politics, everything in and around the House was novel and interesting, but it was difficult to understand why members should in the Chamber be so bitterly hostile to each other and yet as friendly outside. There were, of course, exceptions as regards the latter, but I soon learned that a good deal of what was being said and done was more or less theatrical. Sincerity was to a great extent at a discount, and later years of experience in politics confirmed my impressions that the whole was a game to induce the people to think that their friend was Codlin, and not Short. And the farce is continued to the present time, only more so, and with the same success. It seems to me that the end of my Parliamentary life might be the end of my reminiscences. The opening of railway communication with Winton brought new conditions into our lives. The days of pioneering, bullock-driving, the trips by Cobb and Co., which were not always trips of comfort or of pleasure, were things of the past. In place of the crack of the whip and the rumble of the coach were heard the whistle and snorting of the engine. We were now within civilisation, so far as convenience might go, but whether we were morally and socially better or worse is a very open question. The great distances, the open plains, and the loneliness and monotony which is generally characteristic of the western country, even in these days of comparative closer settlement, have formed the western character. It is a character hard, shrewd, and impatient in good times, but strangely patient and resourceful in times of floods, drought, or difficulty. Invariably maintaining a certain reserve, yet hospitable and generous towards strangers, and ready to give help without question where needed, the western-born man and woman carries a dignity and presence easily recognised, and a friend who visited the west after many years, remarks:--"I say, you have a grand stamp of man and woman growing up in the west, but you are not giving them encouragement to live in and develop their country as you should do." The man of the west deserves much praise, but what might be said of its women. I have seen these following the waggon, or living in domiciles which, even at best, would be a shame to cities. Yet very rarely otherwise than patient, cheerful and hospitable, loving help-mates and mothers. "God bless them," I say. I cannot help thinking that politics are the bane of the west. It is singularly free from religious rancour or animosity. The religious belief of the other man, or if he has any at all, concerns no one. So long as a clergyman does not hold that playing cricket or football on Sunday is wrong, even if he is not popular, he is at all times respected.