I have received very kind and considerate letters from his family.
Thanking you again for the thoughtfulness of your letter,
Believe me
Yours very truly,
Salisbury.
As the time for the meeting of Parliament drew near, it was necessary for Lord Randolph to think very carefully upon the explanation he would offer for the unexpected events of the Recess. Circumstances complex and adverse made his position one of extreme disadvantage. It was hardly possible for him to move in any direction without estranging friends or exposing himself to enemies.
The spirit of his differences with Ministers was vital, but the actual matter in dispute could only be regarded as trivial. Two courses therefore presented themselves at the outset: either to fight on the large ground of the unsatisfied aspirations of Tory Democracy, as set forth in his letter to Mr. Akers-Douglas, or upon the small ground of the Estimates. The first involved a downright assault upon the Conservative Government, an irreparable breach with its leaders, and the breaking of many old friendships and associations. The second whittled the difference down to a question of not very important figures, on which Parliament must soon decide. The one promised a chance of successful strife, the other offered a prospect of reconciliation; the one led soon into very deep waters, the other lay among the shallows. But, in all respects save one, the first was the path of courage, of consistency and perhaps of prudence also. It suited his nature. It freed his hands. It justified and explained his action in a manner which the people could easily understand. ‘I fondly hoped to make the Conservative party the instrument of Tory Democracy. It was "an idle schoolboy’s dream." I must look elsewhere.’
No doubt that was the road to tread. It might have ended in Liberalism; but from that he would not at a later date have shrunk. Chamberlain and Rosebery were better friends to him personally and politically than Smith or Hamilton or Balfour could ever be. To act with the Conservative party meant political paralysis, perhaps for years. To stand independently, or upon a moderate Liberal platform, putting away once and for all any thought of reconciliation, meant usefulness, support and growing power. But one great barrier interposed. The Union was a cause to which he was pledged, not only by memorable votes and speeches, but by profound and unalterable conviction.
So this first course, with its various chances, was forbidden. The second was scarcely more satisfactory and far less congenial. In whatever proportion he restricted the dispute to a mere question of expenditure, he deprived himself of the power of defending his resignation, and therefore weakened his position with the country. To fight on finance alone, when the other differences were known to his late colleagues, looked like repentance and admission of error. It was a course which counted on generosity where generosity was lacking; which counted on gratitude for past services, while in politics present and proximate utility is mainly considered; and it was a course requiring in an unusual degree patience and restraint. But, so far as outside influences could avail, this course was made easy for him. His friends and his family besought him not to break with his party. Ministers addressed him in terms uniformly friendly and considerate. ‘The subject on which he parted from us,’ wrote Lord Salisbury to the Duchess of Marlborough on January 11, ‘is one which the House of Commons must decide one way or the other very shortly, and no one would dispute that its decision, once gained, must be accepted. After that it will be quite open to Randolph to rejoin this or any other Conservative Ministry as soon as opportunity occurs.’
And Mr. Smith on the 13th:—
You have a perfect right to hold the views you expressed to me in my room. I differed then and now from you, but it may turn out that you are right and that I am wrong, and I shall accept a demonstration of that fact without the very slightest personal annoyance.
But, however that may be, all that has happened is an incident in the career of a young politician of quite a temporary character, and, unless my life is cut short as Northcote’s has been, I look forward with confidence to a future—and the sooner it comes the better—when I shall be in the retirement I long for, and you will be leading a great party with prudence and firmness and courage.