Evening star., 1898-05-19
HE LED A BUSY LIFE
Continued from Eleventh Page.)

Continued from Eleventh Page)
Denmark came on board to luncheon. At
ter luncheon the royal party went on deck.
| 1t was a brilliant summer afternoon, and
the pier to which the Tantailou Castle was
moored was crowded by a throng of Copen-
| hagen citizens Only one figure was miss
| ing to their sight, and that the one they
had come forth TO see. While the gay
| throng-king and queen, princes. peers,
| members of the house of commons. English
| men and Danes-paced UP and down the
| deck gayly chatting. Mr.. Gladstone, with
his back to the open doorway of the state
cabin, sat as completely absorbed in his
new study if he were at Hawarden.
Later. when the king and queen had de-
parted, the Copenhageners were admitted
on board. 1t was found necessary to rail
| off the deck on to which Mr.. Gladstone's
state cabin opened. But he was plainly
visible, still going on reading. as Nine. De-
| farge went on knitting, apparently wholly
| unconscious of the existence of the crowd
| straining at the barrier, hungrily staring at
him.
Listened by the Hour to Others.
| His endurance of the mediocre the
| commonplace was marvellous to persons of
less patience He sat listening by the hour
| to what others. whose time was less valua-
| BILE. denounced as the dreary drip of point
| less twaddle In this respect he like
! Mr. Disraeli and Mr.. Bright, and distinctly
1
| being leader of the house, it was not in
cumbent on him that he should pay insight
| cant members the compliment OF sitting
\ out their speeches. But that was his habit.
| Sometimes he was one of a dozen or
| score of members present through the din
ner hour. Mr.. DisraaH sat immobile, APP
parently listening, but rot inclined to make
| rejoinier. Mr.. Gladstone was as liable to
i be drawn by the most inconsiderabie MEM
| Der of the house speaking to empty benches
| as if the speechmaker were of front pariia-
| mentary rank.
| Whatever Mr.. Gladstone did. whether the
| thing were big or little, he did it with all
\ his might. Whatever might be the subject
| he took iE hand, however comparatively
4 trivial, he bent all his energies upon Its
| consideration. Coming to the dinner table
| after whatever arduous work in parliament
| or on thexDlatform, he was as full of life
| and energy as if he had spent an idle day
| in bed and jus, got up to dress for dinner.
| l remember one Saturday night at Dalmeny
| during the last Midlothian campaign he
| had been long and purposeiess drive
| through "a wide district of the constituency.
| II was horrible day, with the east wind
blowing and the air full % dust. He was
| evidently tired when he returned. and LORD
| kosebery. in his infinite solicitude, sug-
| gested that politics should be vigorously
| avoided at dinner. The kindly wisdom of
| this course was perceived. and the bargain
| was, as far the other guests were con-
cerned. konoraby kept But Mr.. Gladstone
| had not been seated at the table ten min
| utes. had taken 2 glass of champagne with
| his fish. which he began to discuss the cur
| rent position of affairs at the polling
\ throughout the country then in progress
| Warming with his subject, he talked away
| with kidding energy, breaking out into
| fresh line of conversation when he Joined
| the wcmen in the drawing room.
Did Not Forgive His Old Pupil.
| 1 was privileged to be much in his COM
pany during the Midlothian campaigns,
| tod al
ole, the course of which L regretfully
watched from the editorial chair of a Lon
don daily paper l am permitted to quote
from letter 1 wrote to friend from
| Edinburgh under date of October 23, 1890:
l was very fortunately placed at the dim
| ner last night. being next to Mrs. Chiiders,
! and on the other side of her AIR. Gladstone.
= We three had a good deal of con-
| versation through the dinner, and when
| the ladies withdrew l was Mr.. Gladstone's
| right-hand neighbor. He was usual
| full of life and energy. / noticed, not for
| the first time what remarkable evidence
| of life flashes in his eyes. Even Isaac
| Holden. marvel of healthy preservation as
| he is. has the dried-up lack-iuster look
| about the eyes that comes with extreme
| old age. Gladstone's eyes almost as
| bright as a boys-certainiy brighter than
| those of the average man of half his age.
| That is an excellent sign of sustained vigor.
| He was much interested in what / told
| him about Stafford Northcote's Life" of
| which 1 have an early copy, and looked
| through it this morning. / could that,
| even now, he has not forgiven his old pupil
| and secretary for going over to the enemy
| and undertaking to frame their budgets.
| He did not say anything disparaging OF
| him, but would not echo my warm praise.
| He got quite excited because none of us
| could remember what position Stafford
| Northcote filled in the stop-gap govern
| ment of 1888. He thought it lamentable
| thing that with Childers there, myself and
others intimate with parliament no one
| could settle the point. Herbert" he was
| sure, would know. But Herbert chanced
| to be out of the room. As soon as he came
in Mr.. Gladstone was down on him with a
| question. Herbert said Northcote had taken
| the colonies, which seemed SO probable
| that all agreed that it was. Later | got
| hold OF the invaluable whitaker and dis
| covered that none of US knew for the best
OF all reasons. In that ministry Northcote
| held no administrative office having gone
to the peers, bearing the style first lord of
| the treasury.
| Talked About Books.
We talked a good deal about books. es
pecially ''The Bride of Iammermoor q"
| which he preferred above all Scott's novels
| Talking about novel-writing, he said: Mod
| ern authors do not seem to feel the naces