"/gciie ihefeySooAi-
tfor tie founding of a. College in. this Colony'

Gift of
Prof. Thomas R. Lounsbury
1909

THE EIGHT HON. W. E. GIADSTONE.

The Westminster Gazette Library

MR. GLADSTONE:
IN THE EVENING OF
HIS DAYS

IN THE EVENING OF
HIS DAYS

A STUDY OF
MR. GLADSTONE IN RETIREMENT,
with some account of
ST. DEINIOL'S LIBRARY AND HOSTEL

H u. L Aa. yV 1 eAe-T-i (l\\ s .

£ 0 n b 0 n :
'WESTMINSTER G A Z E T T E "
c- 
l8q6
(Att Rights reserved)

" Change of labo-ur is, to a great extent, the healt/iiest form oj
recreation" — Tee Impkegnable Rock of Holt Scripture.
" It has been obvious to us all that they were blest with the
possession of the secret of reconciling the discharge of incessant
and wearing public duty with tlie cultivation of the inner and
domestic life. Tlie attachment tliat binds together wife and hus
band was known to be, in their case, and to have been from the
first, of an unusual force . . . on the one side, such love as
is rare, even in the annah of the love of woman ; on the other,
such service can hardly find a parallel." — Address to the
Lanoashiee and Cheshire Mechanics' Institute, 1862.
" Get knowledge all you can, and the more you get the more you
breathe upon its nearer heights their invigorating air and enjoy
tlie widening prospect, the more you will know and feel how small
is the elevation you have reached in comparison with the immea
surable altitudes that yet remain unsealed. Be thorough in
all you do, and remember that, though ignorance often m.ay he
innocent , pretension is always despicable. ' Quit you like men,' be
strong, and the exercise of your strength to-day will give you
more strength t>-morrow. Work on'vards, and work upwards;
and m%y the blessing of ih". Most High soothe your cares, clear
your vision, and crown your labours with reward." — Addeess as
Lord Eeotoh of Glasgow University, 1879.

Bv- t-

PREFACE
Twenty- ONE years ago Mr. Gladstone retired from the
leadership of the Liberal Party.
At the age of sixty-five — [he wrote]— and after forty-two
years of laborious public life, I think myself entitled to retire
on the present opportunity. This retirement is dictated to me
by my personal views aa to the best method of spending the
closing years of my life.
But men propose, the fates dispose ; and the retire
ment wiiich, in 1875, was intended to be final turned
out to be the prelude to one of the most active, as
it was also one of the most successful, periods in
Mr. Gladstone's j)ublic life. What political labours he
discharged during the two succeeding decades, through
what storm and stress he was yet to pass, is known
to everybody ; and the recital does not in any way
come within the scope of these pages. At last the
end of Mr. Gladstone's public life arrived ; it had been
extended to an age greater than that at which any
English statesman had ever conducted the Govern
ment of his country ; and though a fond belief in

Vlll PEEFACE
the Old Man's political immortality might still survive,
and though appeals might still be addressed to him to
" speak once again and wake a world supine," yet the
limit of his public course was now finally attained, and
he was free, in the late evening of his days, to satisfy
" his personal views as to the best method of spending
the closing years of his life."
It is a study of Mr. Gladstone in Retirement that is
the object of this little book. Some portion of it has
already appeared in the columns of Tlie Westminster
Gazette. The rest is now published for the first time ;
and in the preparation of the book, the authoress
(Miss Hulda Friederichs) has had the advantage, which
ihe Editor most gratefully acknowledges, of the advice
and assistance of some of those who are nearest and
dearest to Mr. Gladstone. All the world knows the
Statesman. In these pages it is the Man — and, may we
not add, the Christian ? — with whom we are concerned.
The revelation must necessarily be less complete, less
unreserved, than in the case of a public career. Yet
the pages which follow will be found to contain much
information never before brought together, and will
suffice in the hands of any sympathetic reader to

PEEFACE ix
present an intelligible and convincing picture of
Mr. Gladstone in the Evening of His Days.
In addition to the chapters descriptive of his daily
life, it has been our privilege to obtain the first full
and authentic account of St. Deiniol's Library and
Hostel. These chapters have been prepared with the
aid of facilities most kindly afforded us at headquarters.
Everyone will be interested in learning the facts
about a scheme of public utility which has been
in Mr. Gladstone's mind for many years, and the
realisation of which has been occupying much of his
time .since his retirement. But we venture specially
to commend this account of Mr. Gladstone's Foun
dation to all clerical readers, as St. Deiniol's is
specially designed for the benefit of Clergymen and
Students.*

* Mr. Gladstone, having read the chapter dealing with
St. Deiniol's, writes to us as follows : — "You are quite at liberty
to state, on my behalf, that 1 think the article has been drawn
with much ability and care ; and that, notwithstanding the
obvious difiiculties of describing an institution still in its
embryo, or at any rate not advanced beyond its cradle, it
conveys a wonderfully just idea of what I trust may prove to
be an useful place."

X PRE FACE
Of the significance, as a whole, of this study of a
great man in retirement, it wodd be superfluous to
speak. The story will signally fail of its purpose if it
do not carry its own moral with it. We can best
conclude these introductory remarks by applying to
the subject of the following pages, in his old age, some
words which he applied a generation ago to others : —
111 the sphere of common experience, we see some human
beings live and die, and furnish by their life no special lessons
visible to man, but only that general teaching, in elementary
and simple forms, which is derivable from every particle of
human histories. Others there have been who, from the time
when their young lives first, as it were, peeped over the horizon,
seemed at once to —
" Flame in the forehead of the morning sky''
— whose lengthening years have been but one growing splendour
and who at last — . . leave a lofty name,
A light, a landmark, on the cliffs of fame."
— Place of Ancient Greece in the Providential Order of the
World. — Address at EDiNBURsn University, 1865.

" WEST.MINSTEE Ga>;ETTE " OFFICE,
Januarij 30/A, 1896.

CONTENTS
PAGE
Preface  . . vii
Chapter I. In Hawarden Park .... 3
„ II. Mr. Gladstonr at Church . . . 15
„ III. A Morning with Mr. Gladstone in
His Library ... .32
„ IV. Me. Gladstone at the Luncheon
Table .... . . 46
„ V. Mrs. Gladstone  5.3
„ VI. The Holidays of an Octogenarian . 73
„ VII. With Me. Gladstone at Sea . 86
,, VIII. Mb. Gladstone's Gift to the Nation 93
„ IX. St. Deiniol's Library . 109
„ X. St. Deiniol's Hostel. . . 134
„ XI. Mr. Gladstone's Home-life . 144

ILLUSTRATIONS

The Eight Hon. W. E. Gladstone
The Park Gate, Hawarden .
Me. Gladstone's Sticks and Axes
A Glimpse of the Castle from the Park
The Old Castle, Hawarden .
Dorothy's Dovecote
St. Deiniol's Church, Hawarden .
Dorothy Drew and Petz
The Lake, Hawarden Park .
Waterfall in Hawarden Park .
Me. Gladstone Listening to the Sermon .
Hawaedbn Castle, Feont View .
Principal Staircase, Hawarden Castle
Mr. Gladstone in His Library, Reading .
Mr. Gladstone's Library, Hawarden Castlk
The Dining-room, Hawarden Castle .
Mr. Gladstone's Bedroom ....

Frontispiece 2

46 9
13
1719
21
242935
38 4043 48
59

XIV ILLUSTEATIO.NS PARE
Dining-room in the Orphanagb, Hawarden . . 64
Staircase i.v the Orphanage, Hawarden . . 66
Dorothy Drew's Domain : Tub Night Nursery at
Hawarden Castle . 67
Dorothy Drew's Domain Toe D.iy Ni^rsery at
Hawarden Castle . . 71
The Morning Room, Hawarden Castle . 77
St. Deiniol's Library . . .99
View over the Deb from the Library . .101
A Woodland Hollow in the Park . . . 105
Sdmmer House, and View from St. Deiniol's Library 115
St. Deiniol's Library : Tim Divinity Room . . 119
St. Deiniol's Library : The Warden's Room . 122
The Rev. H. Drew, Warden of St. Deiniol's . 126
The Rectory, Hawarden . . .128
St. Deiniol's Hostel . . . .135
St. Deiniol's Hostel : The Common Room . . 138
St. Deiniol's Hostel: The Dining Eoom . . 139
St. Deiniol's Hostel : Tub Prayer Room . . . 141

THE PARK GATE, HAWARDEN.

CHAPTEE I.
IN HAWAKDEN PARK.
Hawiirdeu as a Tourist Haunt — From Chester to Hawarden
Village— The Walk to Hawarden Church— The View from
Mr. Gladstone's Study Windows— The Little Lady of the
Doves— A Clearing in the Woods — The Gladstone Family
as Wood-cutters.
All during the summer Hawarden Parish Church is a
centre of attraction to the tourist, both American and
British. Travellers, on the way to or from Ireland,
time themselves so as to arrive at Chester ou Friday
or Saturday. The American traveller, whatever day
he may laud at Liverpool, makes a point of staying
over the first week's end ; and the Britain-enamoured
Briton, taking his holiday in the interesting regions
of his own country, does tho same. Chester, with its
picturesque streets, its gaunt remnants of gigantic
Eomau walls, its red cathedral with crumbling stones,
B 2

IN TOE EVENING OF lU.S PAYS

and tattered flags and general look of airy emptiness,
is, for the nonce, only taken by the way. The tourist,
as in duty bound, goes and inspects everything he is
told to inspect, but he glances at it all, as you glance
over the preface of an epoch-making new book. The
real interest is yet to
come. To wliat "real
interest " is Chester the
preface, as it were ? The
next Sunday morning
brings the explanation.
The tourist breakfasts
early, and then goes
off towards the station
with an appearance of
expectation and deter
mination about him,
utterly out of keeping
with the Sunday air
which seems to steal
from " pious Wales "
into this delightful
corner of Cheshire. He takes his ticket to Broughton
Hall or Sandycroft, unless it rains (when he goes by
another line straiglit on to Hawarden station), for, in
order to enjoy the day's pleasures to the full, he takes
en route for Hawarden village a long and lovely countiy
walk, wliere sea-breezes phiy around him, while he

MK. GLiDSTOXE'S STICKS AND AXES.

A GLIMPSE OF THE CASTLE FBOM THE PARK.

IN HAWAUDE^ PARK 7
walks under ancient oaks and elms and beeches ; where
the sunlight lies broad and golden on a hundred fields ;
where the sands of Dee, and hills with white and rosy
lights upon them, close the wide view to the right ; and
where, straight before him, rise in dreamy grandeur the
spurs of the Welsh hills, reminding him, as does no
other range of hills in England, of the first view of the
Alps when Basle lies behind and Lucerne in front.
Then there is Hawarden village on the hilltop.
Clean and quiet, and just a little sleepy, it looks on a
Sunday morning, when the blue smoke rising from the
comfortable cottages seems to be the only thing that
moves for several morning hours. You have not been
in time, you tourist folk, to hear the early bells, and
see the small stream of villagers who regularly go into
the wrought-iron gates leading to the graveyard and to
the parish church before eight a.m. That stream runs
steadUy each Sunday morning from the village to
St. Deiniol's Church, and on the spot where the pigeons,
with silvery white wings, flutter around the heavy ivy-
covered gates leading into the grounds of Hawarden
Castle another human stream flows into that of the
village. For there is never a Sunday in the year,
while " the family " are at home, on which some
members at least of Mr. Gladstone's home circle do
not go to the early service. Up to a very recent date
one figure was never missing in the party coming
through the Castle gates at this hour. Whether the

8 IN THE EVENING OF IIK DAYS
sun shone or the rain fell, whether the storm tossed
about the branches of the trees in which he takes such
pride and pleasure, or whether from the plains below
there rose the thick, white, famous (or is it infamous ?)
Welsh mist, Mr. Gladstone himself began his day
invariably by paying his tribute to his God in the
services of the Church which he believes will always
be faithful to her trust, and to which he has adhered
all the days of his life.
Tliere is a very beautiful private walk of somewhat
over half a mile from Hawarden Castle to the village
church, and along that walk Mr. Gladstone has walked
innumerable times, bound for St. Deiniol's Church.
This walk leads upwards first, past a magnificent
sloping lawn, where once stood many of the finest trees
on this finely timbered estate. Even now there is a
cluster of beeches of such exquisite beauty that, as you
look up the long, slender, graceful stems, you are
reminded at once, if you happen to have seen them, of
those "poems in stone " — the pillars in Cologne Cathe
dral. Mr. Gladstone, as he sits in his private library,
his " Temple of Peace," at that one of the three desks
which is known as the " literary " table, looks out on
this unique group of slender trees whose heads are up
in the blue, higher than the turrets of the Castle.
On the right, as you ascend the path that passes
close by the ruins of the old Castle, you observe an
innovation. The peacocks and the pheasants have

IN HAWAEDEX PARK 11
long been at home among all this secluded greenery ;
but there, against the old wall leading to the kitchen
garden, is a brand new pigeon-house, with strutting,
cooing white inhabitants. A little child has set her
toy into the midst of the dignified old park — little
Dorothy Drew, Mr. Gladstone's grand-daughter, is the
Lady of the Doves. When, on her little bare feet, she
descends from the heights of her nursery, at the! top of
the Castle, to take her subjects for a walk, she marches
towards the pigeon-house to take object-lessons in
natural history ; for of book-learning this lady of five
summers knows nothing as yet, her parents holding
with the Euskinian principle that it injures a child's
imagination if it be able to read stories too soon. You
remember Mr. Euskin again as you walk along the
same path. An oak of enormous size (and Heaven
knows what age !) stretches its fantastic branches over
you. In Mr. Euskin's opinion, this tree, to which a
century is but a short period of existence, is as near
the perfection of a tree as you find anywhere in this
country. The lawn itself, sloping towards the Castle
and the walled-in Italian garden, was for many years
a great delight to Mr. Gladstone. But the storms
have played havoc with many of the finest trees on it ;
and now, though to others who did not know it before
some of the giants fell, it looks still a remarkably fine
slope, he shakes his head at it, and observes that " it
looks like a field."

1:^ IN THE EVENING OF IIIS PAYS
Through a small Gothic gate you reach the private
path in the open parlc, a green, secluded walk full of
bird-life all the year round, and with here and there a
fine view of the lower parts of the grounds. On the
border of tlie enclosure, through which this path leads
to the gates, a graceful building in black and white
wood, not unlike an ornamental Swiss clialet, reflects
the sunlight in its large ^^•indows. Miss Glynne, the
daughter of the late Eector of Hawarden, lives in this
house, in the building of which there was an interest
ing period. For when the spot was decided upon,
where the house was to be erected, the whole of the
Gladstone family set to work to clear away the trees
and the dense underwood with which the site was
covered. And they did not play at doing this, but
worked as hard and as steadily as might a colony
of settlers somewhere in Canadian backwoods, where
domestic life could only commence after the ground
had been cleared, the log-hut built, and the home-made
furniture established. Every member of the household
helped. Mr. Gladstone and his sons with their axes
felled the trees ; and Mrs. Gladstone and her daughters
cut off branches, removed underwood, and gave a help
ing hand wherever they could. JSTor did they ever
leave off till they were thoroughly tired out, and could
look back upon a fair day's work.

noKoiny's dovecote.

CHAPTEE II.
MR. GLADSTONE AT CHCRGH.
Hawarden Chui-chyard — ^Mr. Gladstone as Church-goer— His
Solitary Walk to Early Service — His Heading of the
Lessons — The Old Man in His Pew — "The Day is far
Spent" — Listening to the Sermon — Home to Work, "for
the ^ight Cometh."
When once the park gates have been reached it is but
a few steps to St Deiniol's Church. The entrance to
the graveyard surrounding it is charming. Square and
unbeautiful stoue slabs cover the srmves to the riaiht
and to the left ; but among the stones, wherever they
could find a foothold in an inch or two of soil, green
things and flowers have sprung up, and a fine old yew
tree casts its black shadow on the path, up ^^ hich the
Grand Old Man has walked perhaps more often than
any of the parishioners. Mr. Gladstone enters by a

16 IN THE EVENING OF IIIS DAYS
door in the south side of the aisle, and quietly sits
down at the end of the family pew on the right-hand
side of the long chancel. And there, even now, as
for many years past, the tourist may gaze his fill upon
¦¦' the squire," who happens to be also one of England's
greatest statesmen. Mr. Gladstone believes in regularity
in all tilings, and especially in attendance at church.
N"or does he deem it sufficient for anyone to go once
on a Sunday to a service, and then stay at home with
a calm conscience. As he puts it himself, he thinks
nothing of " one-ers."
There is probably not a day in the year — there
certainly is not one during spring, summer, and
autumn — on which at least one party of tourist-pilgrims
does not come to do homage at St. Deiniol's Church,
Hawarden. The patron saint, whose statue stands in
a niche over the door of the church, is not, however,
the chief recipient of this homage. Nor do the crowds
which pack the church Sunday after Sunday at each
service assemble because St. Deiniol attracts them
more than any other saint, or because the service
itself differs in some striking way from the ordinary
Church of England service. No ; the centre of attraction
is elsewhere. The eyes of all those who come to "view,"
or to attend a service in, Hawarden Parish Church
wander immediately to tlie lectern. For at it, for many
years past, has stood, whenever he was at his home,
the venerable figure of Mr. Gladstone, readiuo- the

MR. GLADSTONE AT CHURCH

17

Lessons regularly at early morning service during the
week, and often at the Sunday services as well. Since
the recent operation .on his eye he has not stood at
the lectern, but he is still a regular attendant at the
church.

ST. DEINIOL S CHTJECH, HAWAKDEN.
The body of St. Deiniol's Church is old, and of pale
grey stone, in simplest Gothic style. Low oak seats
come close up to pulpit, reading-desk, and organ. But
the chancel, evidently of later date, forms a magnificent
contrast. The red stone of which it is built throws a
pale, warm, terra-cotta light over the pews and around
the altar, and softens even the colours of the painted
c

18 IN THE EVENING. OF HIS DAYS
altar window. Here and there in this dusk you notice
the metallic gleams where the light strikes against the
crown-shaped brass chandeliers. Then, at the further
end, a beautiful altar, covered with cloths of sage green
and ruby red ; and again, darts of strong yellow light
from gold embroideries and from the altar-cross that
stands amid offerings of white flowers. Truly this
church, on the edge of the hill, in the centre of thfe
graveyard in which " old-fashioned " flowers bloom
nearly all the year among the grey stones — this village
church, with its associations of the- private life of a
great man, is a place well worth visiting.
Less than two years ago there was still no more
regular worshipper at the eight o'clock morning service
at Hawarden Parish Church than Mr. Gladstone ; and,
though he was over eighty years of age then, he refused
absolutely to take even a cup of tea before he went.
Sometimes a guest, staying at the Castle, would be up
in time to join his host on this early walk. But this
could not be done. For though Mr. Gladstone is the
most graciously courteous of hosts, with a courteousness
which reminds you of the days of Addison and Sir
Eoger, he would share his early morning walk to church
with no one. Not even Petz, the little black Pomera
nian, who is otherwise his master's inseparable com
panion on all walks about Hawarden, ever so much as
suggested to walk to church at 7.45 a.m. In silent
thought, and with brisk step, Mr. Gladstone walked

MR. GLADSTONE AT CHURCH

19

along the green path andreaitered the church alone, to
follow the service with undivided attention, and, very
often, to assist the officiating clergyman by reading the
Lesson of the dav. But at the conclusion of the service

«

^^

m-^ M^

¦i

H

y

^1

wK^BKK/M^,Sm^M^Jm.^'^mtA,. iJ^il^.M^^IBBm

m

DOROTHY DREW AKD PETZ.
(FrOin a photograph by Messrs. Elliott ^ Fr-y, Bitker-sireet, IV.)

he threw off his reserve, joined his friends, and was
ready — nay, eager — for the discussion of any subject in
heaven or upon earth which might happen to be the
sp4eialit4 of a guest. More than one of those who thus
have walked back to breakfast with Mr. Gladstone
c2

20 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
have told me "that nev.er at any time, under any cir
cumstances, have they seen Mr. Gladstone more keenly
alive, more brilliant, more rapid in seizing new points,
more pertinacious in defending an opinion, more genial
and fascinating, than during these morning walks. But
attendance at early services is now a thing of the past ;
since his sight has been affected Mr. Gladstone has
been obhged to be very careful concerning the use of
his eyes, and when an attack of influenza somewhat
weakened his general health, he gave up this habit of
many years. This tribute to old age was not an easy
one, but Mr. Gladstone is far too wise, too reasonable,
to go against the word of command from the superior
authority, the oculist, who joins with the physician in
saying that Mr. Gladstone is a perfect patient.
With regard to Mr. Gladstone as reader of the Lessons
at church, a good deal of sympathy has been wasted by
ihose who imagine that he took this part of the service
"because he liked it." "Poor Mr. Gladstone," they
say, " he must feel it very much when he goes to church
that he can no longer take his part, as lie used to do,
by reading the Lessons of the day." Mr. Gladstone
does feel it, but he feels it as a relief and not as a
deprivation. As a matter of fact, Hawarden parish is
large and scattered, and the staff of clergy was, until
recently, hardly sufficient for the needs of the flock.
Thus the work, even when divided and regulated in the
most careful manner, was very heavy, and it was only

M'lili,

I)'.""''

.-\-^7^*-

MR. GLADSTONE AT CHURCH 23
in order to assist the oiEciating clergyman, but in no
way because he himself preferred to take an active
part in the service, that Mr. Gladstone assisted by
reading the Lessons. Now that the Eector has a large
number of assistants, the work can more easily be done
without a lay-reader. Therefore Mr. Gladstone has
retired from this self-imposed task, not regretfully,
but well content, thinking that he has, at eighty-six,
earned rest so far as to be exempted from the labour
of helping the clergy, especially since he got out of
the habit. On Sunday evenings Mr. Gladstone still
reads Prayers at home.
The Eectory, where his son, the Eev. Stephen
Gladstone, has his home, forms, as it were, another
link in the chain of buildings formed by the Library,
the Hostel, and the Church. It is a fine old red brick
mansion, overgrown with roses and magnolias, and the
grounds in which it stands are very beautiful, with
lawns and giant trees and copses, winding walks, and
banks, and parterres of flowers. Ever since he first
came to Hawarden Mr. Gladstone has made the Eectory
grounds one of his favourite haunts. At Easter, when
he always stays at the Eectory, he spends long hours
in the grounds as often as the weather is at all
favourable. He has perhaps read and thought as
much under these trees as anywhere else, and still,
as life's eventide draws near, he holds the place
most dear.

24 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
Hawarden Park, at the time when the materials for
these chapters were gathered, stood in all the glory of
October's golden crown. The chestnut trees seemed
to radiate yellow light, the beeches and oaks were
billows of coppery red, the roses against the Castle
Walls, and in the quaint Italian gardens, were still in ¦
bloom; and amidst these verj' silent, very beautiful
scenes Mr. Gladstone leads his simple life among his
own friends, and with a constant stream of visitors,
not one of whom leaves Hawarden Castle without
being more than ever impressed with Mr. Gladstone's
marvellous vitality.
In the wintry days, the daily pilgrimage of travellers
and tourists is discontinued to a great extent, for it is
only on fine days that Mr. Gladstone is likely to be
met in his old haunts about the estate or country
lanes. When the days are bleak — as, unfortunately,
they mostly are between November and April — he
is far too happily employed at home to venture out
into the raw, grey winter day. We shall presently
return to the subject of his home occupation — to
tlie ten-hour working day of this veteran of eighty-
six. For the present it is interesting to return to
Mr. Gladstone as a church-goer. The Hawarden bells
which seem to have a peculiarly harmonious ring in
them as their voices sing over the wide plains on the
borders of musical Wales, never call Mr. Gladstone in
vain, so long as the weather is not too cruel, when

WATEBEALL IN HAWAEDEIf PAEK.

MR. GLADSTONE AT CHURCH 27
they ring for service at eleven on Sunday mornings.
You see him briskly walking along the private road,
perchance with a family group, or with a guest ;
perchance alone, a little in advance of the rest; and,
unless the weather be particularly inclement, he wears
no out-door clothing but the short shoulder cape in
which the cartoonist has so often depicted him. Even
now, when his years are approaching fourscore-and-ten,
he clings to the habits of his early manhood, and one
of these is a rooted dislike to any great coat which
comes down to the knees, and impedes the freedom of the
hmbs. As you see him hastening along in the distance
he seems not one whit changed since the days when
thus he strode across St. James's Park to take the
harmless, necessary constitutional between long hours
of work. And you rejoice, and think for the moment
that perhaps they are not so very foolish who, even at
this hour, refuse to believe that Mr. Gladstone has
retired from public life to return no more.
But when, ten minutes later, you see him again, in
the corner of the pew, dimly visible in the subdued
L'ght of the chancel, you are bound to change, however
reluctantly, your recent opinion. It is, indeed, a very
old man who sits there, witli bent back and pale,
wrinkled face, holding his book close to his eyes,
apparently unable to find or to follow the text. A stray
sunbeam, white as midwinter sunbeams mostly are,
falls upon him from behind. The ivory white of the

28 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
bald, magnificent head gleams in the light, and the
few silvery hairs round the base of the head form a
striking contrast to the glittering gilt edges of the book
he holds. "The day is far spent." And you turn
sadly from the contemplation of the silent, quiet
figure. The service goes on, and presently the preacher
ascends the pulpit. Then from his retired chancel
seat Mr. Gladstone rises and comes to sit opposite,
close to the lectern, where, on the wings of an
eagle, lies the Book of Life from which he has so often
read to the conoregation assembled here. And now
again, you see that you were altogether wrong in
imagining the Mr. Gladstone of a few years past to
have entirely vanished. For you have but to concen
trate your sight on the old man on the wooden seat
before you, and to forget his present surroundings, and
you have Mr. Gladstone, in one of his most charac
teristic House of Commons attitudes. His head is
slightly bent ; his face, save for an occasional movement
of the eyelids, perfectly motionless ; he bends forward,
folds his hands over his knee, and listens with
unflagging attention. Now and then, as a passage in
the sermon strikes him in a particular manner, he holds
his hand in the well-remembered way to his ear, that
not a sound may escape him. The attention of other
members of the congregation may momentarily flag,
or their eyes may wander, but Mr. Gladstone is all

ME. GLADSTONE LISTENING TO THE SERMON.

MR. GLADSTONE AT CHURCH 31
attention from beginning to end of the sermon and
service. What an ordeal, by the way, for a newly-
fledged young priest to preach to that listener on the
wooden seat under the lectern ! What an ordeal ; and
what a record to look back upon in after years !
After church you see the Old Man once more
buoyantly walking along under his trees; he cannot
afford to linger, for there is yet a good hour before
luncheon in which to get on with the "Analogy," the
stiS'est book in the world to some other mortals ; the
source of endless fascination to Mr. Gladstone, the
theologian and fervent admirer of Bishop Butler.

CHAPTEE IIL
A MORNING WITII MR. GLADSTONE IN IIIS LIBRARY.
The Vitality of an Octogenarian — Mr. Gladstone's Breakfast—
"If you want a thing done well, do it yourself!" — "The
Temple of Peace" — How He Ari'anges His Books — His
"Political" and his "Literary" Desks — His Powers of
Concentration — His Pet Dog " Petz."
There is not one of the constant stream of guests at
Hawarden Castle who does not go away wondering
more and more, at the end of each succeeding visit, at
the vitality of the master of the mansion, the oldest
man of the circle gathered around him — the oldest
and also the most vigorous. " It is marvellous,"
Mr. Gladstone's friends tell you ; and those who
look gravely and seriously at old age, add thoughtfully,
" and it is a most beautiful thing to see a long life
ending in such perfect happiness and peace."
But not the most vivid account can give a true

A MORNING WITH MR. GLADSTONE IN HIS LIBRARY 33
idea of Mr. Gladstone at the age of eighty-six ; of
the strength of his individuality; the keen, rapid
insight into matters ; the eager interest he brings to
such subjects as may be new to him in so far that
he has never made a special study of them ; the
humour and good-natured raillery with which he
intersperses his occasional observations, and the sense
of constant activity in which there is not tlie slightest
suspicion of unrest. In repose, at church, he looks
physically feeble; when you see him energetically
walking out of doors, you modify your opinion
concerning the supposed feebleness; but only when
you see him at home is it possible to realise his
marvellous vitahty, which is far .ibove that of the
majority of men half his age.
Mr. Gladstone begins his day's work at eight o'clock
every morning. That is to say, he begins to read.
Ha™g taken breakfast in bed — a luxury which he has
only quite lately allowed those about him to impose
on him — he does not rise at once, but reads for two
hours, ill preparation for the work he has set himself
for the day. At ten a.m. he gets up, and is dressed in
less than half an hour. The idea of a valet assisting
liim never enters his mind ; he would scorn to entertain
it for a moment. Not even will he suffer anyone to
assist him in the most important part of his packing
when he goes away from home. On the day preceding
a departure for, let us say, a lengthy stay at Biarritz
D

34 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
or a cruise in the Tantallon Castle, every bed- and
dressing- room at Hawarden Castle, where the business
of packing is going on, is iu the state of confusion
which generally reigns in the private rooms of intend
ing travellers just before their departure. But of all
this there is nothing in Mr. Gladstone's rooms. Every
pin is in its right place, every book on its shelf, and all
the books, the writing materials, the papers — in fact,
everytliing he may require during his absence except
his small portmanteau of clothes and toilet necessaries
— is neatly packed by the owner himself, without the
slightest confusion, on the principle " if you want a
thing done well, do it yourself ! "
At Hawarden, Mr. Gladstone, coming from his
bedroom, goes downstairs, and turns at once into his
library. No wonder it has been named the "Temple of
Peace," for even as you enter it the air of deep peace
strikes and falls upon you. It is a library quite unlike
the generality of such apartments in country houses,
where a stray visitor goes to write his casual notes ;
whither a man withdraws when he is tired of the
society of his kind for a couple of idle hours ; or where
young couples flock for refuge when large house-parties
make all other rooms unsafe for an enjoyable tete-a-tete.
About the books in the average private library, all
bound in accordance with the barbaric notion that backs
must look alike, and each shelf must contain only
books of the same size, there hangs almost invariably

A MORNING WITH MR. GL.4DST0NE IN HIS LIBRARY 37
a suggestion of mustiness and dustiness that makes
the real lover of books wince or smile, according to
temperament. In the Hawarden Castle Library— or,
as I was amused to hear it called the other day, " the
Castle section of St. Deiniol's Library"* — there is no
trace of all this country-house librarism. It is a room
which is lived in ; which bears, wherever you may turn,
the impress of its owner s tastes ; which has been
beautified with portraits and bas-reliefs of the owner's
children and nearest friends, with curios and keepsakes ;
and which, for all its rest and quiet, is full of the spirit
of work. The books on the shelves are arranged not
according to size, but to subject ; they are not stupidly
pressed into the same uninteresting state livery of calf
or morocco, but they have all preserved their indivi
duality by retaining the clothes in which the publisher
dressed them before they went out into the service of
the world,
By an ingenious invention, Mr. Gladstone has
arranged all his books in such a manner that not one of
them is hidden behind others, and that he can see the
titles of them almost at a glance. That is to say
anyone with, unimpaired eyesight can do this. As for
Mr. Gladstone himself, he said a few days ago, with a half

The visitor to St. D.'s Library will observe among the
notices on the board that " Books at present in the Castle
section of the Library may be obtained on applic.\tioii."

IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAY'S

impatient, half-humorous shrug of the shoulders : " Oh,
no ! to me the arrangement is not much good, now that

PHIKCIPAL STAIECASE, HAWAEDEN CASTLE.
my eyes are bad. I can't see anything when I look
rapidly along tlie backs of the books. I must focus
each one separately." But he lingers with quiet

enjoyment over a talk about his books, and likes to hear
you praise the arrangement of the shelves, which is the
same at St. Deiniol's Library and all round the "Temple
of Peace." One of Mr. Gladstone's sp4ciaUt4s,. by the
way, is his wonderful knowledge of the Bible, which
those who know him best declare never to have seen
surpassed, and rarely equalled, even by clergymen.
Three writing-tables stand in the Hawarden Castle
Library, and not one of them is for show. At one
table Mrs. Gladstone writes many of her letters ; the
second, standing between two windows, is Mr. Glad
stone's political desk. It looks now too neat, too tidy
by far for the taste of any Gladstonian politician ; the
blotting pad has an unused air about it ; the pen
wipers, racks, knives, and other appurtenances stand
about with a mathematical precision which means want
of use, and there is neither note nor leaflet to be seen.
The political desk, at all' events for the present, must
be numbered among the unemployed. But turn to the
third, the literary writing-table, in the niche by the
window, which is the most peaceful corner in that
place of peace : you may there, at any time during
the day, see a sight that will make your heart rejoice,
and that will linger in your mind while pictures linger
there at all.
The whole desk is covered with reference books of
all shapes and sizes. They form a wall round three
sides, and there is only an opening in the front of the

40

IN THE EVENING ()F HIS DAY'S

desk just wide enough to allow Mr. Gladstone to place
the slieets of foolscap paper on which he writes. There,
at this deslc, the G.O.M. sits all day long, with very
short intervals, absorbed in " Bishop Butler," the man

ME. GLADSTONE IN HIS LIBEAEY, EEAUING.
{From iha Torlr.ut b-ijXMr.J. McClti.rc Ilamilto-it, vow in the'luxiinionrg Gcdkr'j).

whom he gives a place among the gi eatest of men that
have ever lived. The number of volumes required by
Mr. Gladstone for reference is almost endless ; he has
often to search through one bulky tome after the other
for some chance paragraph that may help him to eluci
date a dark place in the "Analogy." There he sits,

A MORNING WITH MR. GLADSTONE IN HIS LIBRARY 41
absorbed in his work : now writing rapidly and eagerly
for some minutes ; now throwing down his pen, and
dipping deep into one of the books with which he has
surrounded himself. Sometimes a speciaUj'-favoured
artist has been admitted to take Mr. Gladstone's
portrait, but it is on express condition that the "sitter"
shall not in any way be distracted from his work. It
was under such conditions that Mr. McClure Hamil
ton's portrait (now in the Luxembourg; was taken.
Not once does Mr. Gladstone's attention flag, though
you may perchance be sauntering about the room in
company with a member of the family, or be privileged
to have a chat with Mrs. Gladstone as, with loving
pride in all her husband's doings, she points out to you
this, that, or the other of the objects in the library to
which attaches a special interest for him. Not that
Mr. Gladstone is altogether indifferent to violent inter
ruptions. In fact he objects to them strongly, and he
does not hesitate to say so. But when it happens that
he himself has invited you to " come into my room,"
he forgives you if you appear while he is at work, and
works on undisturbed by your presence or your voice,
with an absorption in his occupation which is nothing
short of marvellous. Whatever the work may be
which he has in hand, it takes hold of him so entirely
that he has to be roused from it as most people are
roused from sleep. Mr. Gladstone does not as a rule
care to talk of his idiosyncrasies, since he holds the

42 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
sincere opinion that he is very much hke the rest of
the world. But he acknowledges that his faculty of
concentration is his special gift, the one by which he is
distinguished from other people.
Another reason why Mr. Gladstone gets through so
astounding an amount of work is his extraordinary
habit of using up odds and ends of time. One day,
not long ago, he was going for a drive into Chester
after luncheon. His pudding was very hot, so he went
away from table, changed his clothes, got ready for
the drive, and came back and finished his meal, thus
saving the ten minutes during which his pudding
cooled ! It may here be mentioned, in connection with
the drives to Chester, that on the day, a few months
ago, when he drove in for the purpose of making his
powerful Armenian speech, Mr. Gladstone had been
absorbed all the morning in Butler, and the speech
was made without any special preparation.
From ten a.m. to luncheon-time Mr. Gladstone
spends regularly in the library, hard at work. But
when the gong sounds, he puts down his pen, for
promptness in everything has become a second nature
to him, and he is probably in the dining-room before
anyone else arrives. Petz alone, if that little creature
can arrange it so, is as prompt as his master, for his
two ruling passions — love for his master and love for
his dinner — come into play at the sound of the
luncheon gong. The dog's small black muzzle is

A MORNING WITH MR. GLADSTONE IN HIS LIBRARY 45
turning whiter and M'hiter, and his eyes are growing
just a little dim. But his spirit is proud and high,
and if, after having done justice to a plentiful meal,
he espies an enemy in the shape of a cat in the
garden in front of the dining-room, he treads the
cushioned seats in the oriel window with stern step and
angry bark, and demands instant admission, through
the window, into the garden, that he may purge the
neiglibourhood of such " vermin."

CHAPTEE IV.
MR. GLADSTONE AT THE LUNCHEON TABLE.
About Tlie Westminster Gazette — Tales of the " Thirties " and the
" Forties " — Talker and Listener — Mr. Gladstone's Hearing
— His Light Reading — A Note on his Edition of Bishop
Butler.
After five or six hours' literary work on so heavy a
subject as the editing of Bishop Butler's work, even a
young man might be forgiven if he came to the gather
ing at meal time in a somewhat silent mood. Not so
Mr. Gladstone. The " Analogy " has for the moment
ceased to exist ; there are an endless number of other
subjects which are of interest, and a change of occupa
tion, whether it be mental or physical, is as good as a
rest. Hence, as Mr. Gladstone sits at the head of the
table, his face is the most animated of all. The light

MR. GLADSTONE AT THE LUNCHEON TABLE 47
pours fully upon him, and you are anew compelled
to admiration of the fine head, the eagle eye, the
rapid change" of expression, which, however, never
drives away the underlying look of large, dignified
benevolence. In two minutes the conversation is in full flow. One
subject only is now mostly forbidden- — that is, contro
versial politics. On anything else your host is ready
to talk, and, whatever the subject be, it is sure to
become interesting. Take journalism. The name of
The Westminster Gazette happens to come up — and, we
say it with a soothing sense of gentle self-satisfaction, is
dwelt on by Mr. Gladstone in a most flattering manner.
How is an evening paper produced ? When is it
written ? How does the work compare with that on a
morning paper ? Is The Westyninster Gazette aware that
years ago there was a Eoman Catholic paper of the
same name ? It is interesting to note that this MS. wasS
edited by Mr. Purcell, Cardinal Manning's biographer
from 1866 to 1 879. The Turkish Question cropped up,
just as it does to-day, and the editor had anti-Turkish
opinions, and said so in the first Westminster Gazette.
All the Catholics were "Turks," except Lady Georgiana
FuUerton and a few other enlightened people.
The result was, the paper died of a disease called
" Turk." Then the talk turns to the new peers, and very
wittingly, and evidently with a keen sense of enjoying

48

m THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS

his reininisaences, Mr. Gladstone dips again into the
past of sixty years ago, and remembers the ancestors of
one of the peers, and their doings in the times of their
youth. It is all told as cheerily as a schoolboy will tell

THE DlNlKG-ltOOM, HAWAUDEN CAtTLE.
you of the good fun he has had last term with Tom, Diclc,
and Hariy, his intimates or his opponents. Not an
incident is forgotten, and as you listen the days of " the
thirties and forties " live again in the nineties, and are as
vivid as is yesterday. All at once there is a pause, and
a twinkle comes into the eyes of the host as he turns

MR. GLADSTONE AT THE LUNCHEON TABLE 49
round and says with assumed gravity : " 1 could tell
you ever so much more, but I won't. I don't want you
to get me into a libel action."
A moment later you see a man who differs widely
from the brilhant talker. Mrs. Gladstone has not
been well ; it was not thought wise that she should
leave her room before luncheon. Now, Mrs. Drew,
who is the stay and staff, together with her husband
(the Eev. H. Drew), of both her parents in their old age,
reports that the patient is coming down into the
library, to wait for the carriage whicli is to take her
for her first drive after her illness on this golden winter
afternoon. And gravely, and just a little anxiously,
Mr. Gladstone now turns his attention to the patient,
and asks about her luncheon, etc., etc., and brightens
up again as he hears that all is as well as can be.
Books are a subject to which Mr. Gladstone returns
with ever new delight, and the books in St. Deiniol's
Library are naturally discussed in. these days when
that institution is about to be made over to trustees —
a subject, by the way, to which we shall presently
return. Talking of theological books, and seeing
that Mr. Gladstone's chief occupation is the editing
of a theological work which necessitates the use of
an enormous number of reference books, the question
naturally suggested itself : " But do you not miss
the thousands of books you have sent down into
St. Deiniol's Library ?" And the answer, though given
K

50 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
in a tone of playful grumbling, is rather pathetic, since
it is the exact truth ; " Yes, I do miss them. I miss
them every day and every hour. When I want a book
it is sure to be at St. Deiniol's." But noticing that
his friends are rather saddened by this unvarnished
expression of the truth concerning the theological
books which have gone from the Castle to St. Deiniol's,
Mr. Gladstone at once falls in with the suggestion of
establishing some modern communication between the
two parts of the Library, by means of which a book
can be called for at a moment's notice.
Then back to modern journalism once more. It
is a marvel how quickly things are done nowadays,
Mr. Gladstone thinks ; and cross-examines the journalist
a little more, and proves himself as good a listener as he
is a talker. And here, by the way, it may be observed
that the idea is erroneous that Mr. Gladstone's hearing
is altogether failing. Sitting by his side, you need not
raise your voice in the very least ; you need not even
be careful to utter your words with the " extra-special"
distinctness which it is always wise to assume when
talking to a member of that great army of old and
elderly people who are slightly deaf but object to
being thought so. At the same time, it was one of
Mr. Gladstone's reasons for retiring from politics that,
during his last Parliament, he never heard the whole
of a speech to which he had to reply.
When at last, after a light meal, and a half -hour of

Mil. GLADSTONE AT THE LUNCHEON TABLE 51
talk, grave and gay, Mr. Gladstone rises from table, he
at once goes back to his " Temple of Peace," and settles
down to more work, just as eagerly, just as deeply
absorbed as before. One very stiff part of the editing
of Butler's work, which was recently finished, was the
indexing of the forthcoming edition. Even this
Mr. Gladstone did entirely himself ; and on the even
ings of the indexing days he confessed liimself in so far
beaten by his work that lie required an antidote of
particularly light reading, and renewed old friendships
after dinner by plunging into " Eobinson Crusoe " and
" The Arabian Nights."
Light literature, a good deal of which is fiction,
occupies Mr. Gladstone at the end of every ten-hours'
working day after dinner, unless, of course, his guests
draw him- away from his books. Among the books
which he has read with pleasure during the last month
or two are "Aunt Anne" and "A Flash of Summer,"
also Sir W. Hunter's "The Old Missionary." From
" Obscure " books, however much they may occupy the
table-talk of the day, Mr. Gladstone saves himself, and
rather than be racked by the realist's scenic display, he
turns back to Miss Edgeworth, and wanders with her
through the realms of the long ago.
In a footnote which Mr. Gladstone added to the
article on Matthew Arnold, in the December number
of The Nineteenth Centiiry, he pointed out that both
the "Analogy" and the other principal compositions E 2

52 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
are broken up into short sections for the greater
convenience of reference. It is interesting to note that
Mr. Gladstone considers this one of the most important
and useful parts of his work, which, in itself, would
almost justify a new edition. And thus it happens
that the New Journalism has been paid the great
compliment of having one of its inventions — that of
" cross heads " and " short pars." — adopted by the
" most Conservative member of the Conservative
Party."

CHAPTEE V.

MRS. GLADSTONE.

The Family Life of the Gladstones — A Sketch of Mrs. Gladstone
in the "Temple of Peace"— The Ideal Wife in Real Life-
Mr. Gladstone's Marriage — Mrs. Gladstone as Guardian
Angel — Her Charitable " Homes " at Hawarden.
It is impossible to spend a day, or even an hour, at
Hawarden Castle without becoming aware of what is
no doubt one of the chief reasons for thc absolute
peacefulness of Mr. Gladstone's old age. There is that
about the whole household which tells you that " the
Gladstones " are what is usually called a united family.
The majority of families, of the class to which Mr. and
Mrs. Gladstone and their children belong, have at first
sight the appearance of being genially attached to each
.other. But in a good many cases these appearances
are deceptive, and when the thin veil of good manners

54 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
is cast aside you find that the apparent attachment is
nothing but a lioUow mockery. Not so in the family
at Hawai'den Castle, which is united by an unusually
strong bond of affection, drawing the various members
more closely together year by year. Thus, for instance,
the widow of Mr. W. H. Gladstone, who is living in
the village of Hawarden, and whose little son is the
heir of the estate, is now even more at one witli the
Gladstone family than during her husband's life-time.
And the one member of the family round whom cling
most closely the affections of all is Mr. Gladstone'
himself. There is no suggestion of " keeping up
appearances," no simulated hero-worship, in the great
love and admiration which every member of his house
hold gives to him freely and at all times. Mr. Glad
stone is, in very truth, a hero in the eyes of all wlio are
nearest and dearest to him. As Mr. George Eussell
says, at the conclusion of his deeply interesting
biography of his former political chief and intimate
private friend : —
There are some people who appear to the best advantage on
the distant heights, elevated by intellectual eminence above
the range of scrutiny, or shrouded from too close observation
by the misty glamour of great station and great affairs.
Others excel in the middle distance of official intercourse, and
in the friendly but not intimate relations of professional and
public life. But the noblest natures are those which are seen
at their best in the close communion of the home, and here
Mr. Gladstone is pre-eminently attractive. The dignity, the

MRS. GLADSTONE 00
order, the simplicity, and, above all, the fervent and manly
piety, of his daily life, form a spectacle even more impressive
than his most magnificent performances in Parliament or on
the platform. He is the idol of those who are most closely
associated with him, whether by the ties of blood, of friend
ship, or of duty ; and perhaps it is his highest praise to say
that he is not unworthy of the devotion he inspires.
Arid first and foremost among his devotees at home
stands, naturally, Mrs. Gladstone.
It is fifty-seven years since Mrs. Gladstone and her
sister, the first wife of George Lord Lyttelton, were
married on the same day at St. Deiniol's Church,
Hawarden. Sir Francis H. Doyle, who was Mr. Glad
stone's best man, celebrated the occasion in a poem called
" The Two Sister Brides." In it occur the following
lines addressed to Mrs. Gladstone. Eeading them, witli
the experience of those fifty-seven years behind us,
we know that the poet was a seer, and predicted
exactly the part which " the beautiful Miss Glynne "
would play on the stage of the life she was then just
entering : —
High hopes are thine, oh ! eldest flower.
Great duties to be greatly done ;
To soothe, in many a toil-worn hour.
The noble heart which thou hast won.
Covet not, then, the rest of those
Who sleep through life unknown to fame ;
Fate grants not passionless repose
To her who weds a glorious name.

56 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
He presses on, through calm and storm
Unshaken, let what will betide ;
Thou hast an office to perform,
To be his answering spirit-bride.
The path appointed for his feet
Through deserts wild and rocks may go,
AVhere the eye looks in vain to greet
The gales, that from the waters blow.
Be thou a balmy breeze to him ;
A fountain, singing at his side ;
A star, whose light is never dim ;
A pillar, through the waste to guide.
For more than half a century she has stood by his
side, the most devoted and loyal of " partners ; " she
has triumphed with all her husband's triumphs ; his
life, indeed, has been her life, and in days of anxiety
or ill-health it is Mrs. Gladstone again wJio has
lightened the burden by never-failing devotion. It
is so even now. Mr. Gladstone's quiet happiness is
reflected is Mrs. Gladstone's bright and still beautiful
face ; and there is a touching abandon in her voice and
manner as she points out to you, one after the other,
the things in the "Temple of Peace " which are of special
interest. In one of the niches her husband sits silently
over his paper, quill in hand, and in the niche opposite
sits, perchance the graceful white-haired lady, in soft,
clinging garments of some creamy material, brightened

MRS. GLADSTONE 57
about the throat by quaint gold ornaments, and wrapped
round with dark velvety furs— for she is waiting to
drive out after her recent indisposition. "We don't
like to talk when he is at work," she says, in an eager
whisper and with a beaming face, "but he does not
mind it;" and continues to show you the things which
she thinks may interest you most.
If ever wife has approached to Solomon's ideal
woman it is Mrs. Gladstone, in whom are realised,
to the very letter, the characteristics of' the woman
whose price is " far above rubies."
The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her. . .
She will do hini good and not evil all the days of her life.
. . Her husband is known in the gates. . . . Her
children arise up and call her blessed ; her husband also, and
he praiseth her. . . .
And in this also has Mrs. Gladstone, for more than
half a century, been an ideal wife, that she has done
the work of a guardian angel from no other motive
than that of love and admiration of lier husband. No
ambitious thought, either for him or for herself, has
ever marred the perfect unselfishness of her loving
care ; Mr. Gladstone was her husband, and for that
reason his life and well-being were dearer to her than
all things else, and whether he was Prime Minister of
England, or whether he was simply the scholarly private
gentleman, was a matter of accident only.
When " the beautiful Miss Glynne," sister of

58 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
Sir Stephen Glynne, of Hawarden Castle, first met
the young M.P. with the eagle eyes and the expressive,
mobile face at a dinner-party, now fifty-eight years ago,
a member of the Government of the day said to her :
" Mark that young man ! He will one day be Prime
Minister of England." Before another year had passed
Miss Glynne and that young man were married. They
had met again in Italy ; and not long after the bells
of Hawarden Church pealed for two lovely sister-
brides on the same day. There are a few old villagers
still alive who recount the story of the double wedding,
the greatest event in their lowly lives.
And from the day of their marriage to the day when,
in his eighty-fifth year, Mrs. Gladstone, though in
delicate health, accompanied her husband on that
last journey to his Sovereign, when he had to lay down
his life's work, which was becoming too hard as the
light began rapidly to fail, she has been in every
respect an ideal wife.
For herself Mrs. Gladstone never had any ambition
but in estimating the work which Mr. Gladstone
has done it should not be forgotten that it is
largely owing to lier that he has been able to get
through the mass of work which is associated with his
name. She made it her duty from the first to regard
her husband's health as superior to all other considera
tions — a sacred trust committed to her care which was
the first of her responsibilities. Blessed herself with a

MRS. GLADSTONE 61
perfect constitution and unbroken health, she has
watched over him with the skill of a nurse and the
vigilance of a guardian angel, ^he knows the limits of
her own skill to a hair's breadth, and the moment they
are passed she calls in the doctor. Nor is it only in
the maladies of the body in which she has displayed
invaluable qualities. She has carefully kept Mr. Glad
stone shielded from all the minor worries of life.
Eightly regarding his work for the nation as infinitely
more important than anything he had to do for his
family, or the small businesses of life, she has taken
upon her shoulders all the routine work which could
possibly be devolved upon her, and stood between lier
husband and the little worries and frictions of life
with a perfect genius of thoughtful and anticipatory
skill. Who, having once seen Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone
together, bent on performing some public duty, or
rejoicing the heart of private friends with their pre
sence at some social gathering, could ever forget the
touching sight of the man and woman who have grown
old together in perfect unity of spirit, and who, at life's
eventide, are still both following their great ideal of
living useful and unselfish lives ? Other women
yoimger and stronger than herself, might grow tired,
and disappear from the hot, stuffy cage above the House
of Commons known as the Ladies' Gallery ; but Mrs.
Gladstone remained at her post, forgetful of late hours,
forgetful of discomfort and weariness, and with eyes

62 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
only for the great orator below, at the sound of whose
voice the House became hushed and attentive. Her
anxious heart might flutter as she looked at his pale
and tired face, and noticed the first sign of huskiness
in the melodious voice. But she was not, therefore,
going to add, by irritating though well-meant admoni
tions and supplications, to his petty cares. No ; his
health might be all the world to her, but his life, his
strength, belonged to the nation, and she could only sit
by and watch and see that the innocent elixir of life she
had so carefully prepared for him at home should not
run short. This fillip— which has become historic, like
Prince Bismarck's brandy-and-water in the Eeichstag —
is a humble compound of sherry and eggs, prepared at
home, and by Mrs. Gladstone's own hand.
It is always "a study" to watch Mr. and Mrs.
Gladstone in social life. The moment after they have
saluted their hosts they are, of course, swallowed up,
separately, in a maelstrom of admiring friends. And
while Mr. Gladstone, eager and intense, is soon absorbed
in whatever subject may by chance have been broached,
you cannot but note that, notwithstanding her smiling,
kindly, sympathetic attention to those around her,
Mrs. Gladstone is always conscious that hers is the
post of the guardian angel over her husband. Her
eyes search for him again and again, and when she
sees him happily ensconced in some cosy corner,
together with a friend, or beaming in his benevolent

MRS. GLADSTONE 63
kindness upon some fair admirer, a look of quiet
satisfaction spreads over the mobile face of his wife.
Again, at bazaars, meetings, and similar functions
Mrs. Gladstone,, long past the threescore years and ten,
is always ready to act with or for her husband, to
stand for hours at a stall selling his portraits, to sit
through wearisome ceremonies or stand in crowded
rooms, if so she may help him to aid the cause to
which he has devoted his life and his great powers.
Mr. Gladstone is fully sensible of what he owes to
his wife, nor has he made any secret of the fact that
his continuance in public service was dependent upon
the health of his partner in life. Had she broken
down, and become an invalid, he would have retired
from the service of his country. It would have been
impossible, he felt, to carry on the work of the Govern
ment and at the same time to have attended to his
duty to his wife ; nor could he have stood the strain
if she, who had been throughout as a ministering spirit,
instead of aiding him, became a tax upon his vitality.
The self-denial and self-abnegation of Mrs. Gladstone
are beyond all praise. It, no doubt, seems very
imposing and dazzling to many to be the wife of a
Prime Minister, but the wife herself has a somewhat
hard time of it. The absorption of a Prime Minister
in the work of a nation leaves him very little time for
domestic intercourse. Mrs. Gladstone has been known
to remark that, when Mr. Gladstone was in office, and

G4

IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS

in London during the season, it was quite a treat to
her to be invited to a friend's house to dinner together
with her husband. She always then tried to get seated
near to him — " when," she said, " it is at least possible

DINING-EOOM IN THE OEPHANAGE, HAWAEDEN.

or me to have some conversation with my husband ;
otherwise I see nothing of him."
Apart from the fact that whatever concerns or
interests her husband is, as a matter of course, of
importance and interest to her, Mrs. Gladstone is
not a keen politician ; but with her usual readiness to
be useful in advancing his good cause, she became
president of the Women's Liberal Federation at an
age when the majority of men and women consider

MRS. GLADSTONE 65
themsel\'es abundantly entitled to throw off all
trammels of this kind. Eight faithfully she performed
her duties to the Federation, till she felt that, on
the verge of her eightieth year, she could no longer
retain this post.
Over and above her chief interests, which are all that
concerns her husband, Mrs. Gladstone has, close to her
own home, many of the interests which lie nearest her
heart. Nestling close to the imposing walls of the
Castle stand two grey stone buildings. One of these is
ilrs. Gladstone's Home for Orphan Boys, and in the
other a number of impecunious and lonely old ladies
have found a harbour of refuge whence they need not
aaiaiii sail forth on the sea of life. More uncouven-
tional charitable institutions there probably never have
been than these two Homes. Some thirty orphaned
lads are housed in one of the quaint old places. You
see them marching through the park, their Eton
collars glorious in the sun, a band of cheery, red-
cheeked boys, each one of whom is the cavalier and
friend of Dorothy Drew, who revels in a gambol with
" her boys.'' Or you see them seated round long tables
in their pretty dining-room, doing justice to the best of
their capacity to plentiful meals of well-prepared and
wholesome food ; or, again, they are about in their
playground, or working at their garden plots. And
everywhere they look soiffnes and sheltered, these
children who have drifted friendlessly upon the world.
F

66

IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS

And they receive at the Hawarden Home far more than
education, food, and shelter. For if their quaintly

STAIECASE IN THE OUPllANAGE, HAWAEDEN.

beautiful surroundings, in that house of ancient ou]\:,
mysterious nooks, and picturesque passages and windows
and stairs and attics, do not develop their festhetic
tastes, it must be their own fault. And in the mansion
close by the constant nearness of one of the greatest
men of the time, the good influence which in manifold

MRS. GLADSTONE 69
forms is spread all round by Mr. Gladstone, and his
family, must needs affect the boys in some way, how
ever subtle and silent, moulding their future, and
giving them a far better chance in the race than
generallj' falls to the lot of children who are orphaned
and poor.
The old ladies next door to the Orphanage are in
their way made just as happy as the boys. To see
them in that sunny little house, in their white grand
mother caps, their neat and even dainty attire, and
surrounded by a hundred things that make for comfort
and brightness, is like looking through one of Kate
Greenaway's or Eandolph Caldecott's picture-books.
" Upstairs and downstairs and in the ladies' chamber "
it is the same, and after bidding the gentle cronies and
the cheery matron good-bye, you seem to see above the
doorway of this home the old, old motto : " At evening
time it shall be light.''
Nor does the good work of Mrs. Gladstone and her
daughters and daughters-in-law end with their interest
in the two Homes. Hawarden Parish is large, and
there is a great deal of work to be done in it. And
wherever a part of this work can be performed by
ladies, the " Castle ladies " are sure to undertake their
share in it. They hold meetings of all kinds for
mothers and daughters ; tliey read aloud while their
companions work for the poor ; they visit the sick ;
they have poured into their sympathetic ears the

70 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
troubles of the poor and lonel}' ; they help, and cheer,
and encourage wherever they can, and they do so
without ostentation, as a matter of course. Thus there
radiates from Hawarden Castle a great light, which
shines far over the country, but which also sends some
of its warmest, kindliest rays round the immediate
neighbourhood ; and there is not a member of the
Gladstone family who does not his or her part in
keeping this light uniformly bright. It is partly due
to these home influences that Mr. Gladstone, in the
evening of his days, lives in such an atmosphere of
happy peace.

CHAPTEE VI.
THE HOLIDAYS OF AN OCTOGENARI.A.N.
A Home from Home — Mr. Gladstone as a China Hunter — His
Retirement from Public Life — The Happiest Period of His
Life — An Accident in the Library — A Day with Mr. Glad
stone on the Riviera — His Eyesight — His Afternoon Nap
and Afternoon Tea — A Little Game of Backgnnnnon.
Mr. Gladstone is one of the few happy mortals who
take their home with them wherev(;r they go, leaving
only their cares and worries in tlie place whence they
depart. Whether temporarily quartered at the historic
" 10, Downing Street," in Carlton House Terrace, at the
Lion Mansions at Brighton, within Mr. Armitstead's
hospitable walls in the north, or at a seaside hotel at
rBiarritz, he is always at home, and never ruffles his
own or other people's temper by petty complaints
concerning the absence of trivial things which it is

74 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
impossible to export from a permanent to a temporary
dweUing-place. It has always been like this, and
many years ago, while on their journeyings abroad, his
friends were anxious on Mr. Gladstone's behalf when
their quarters — as liotel quarters are apt to do even in
the best regulated Itahan cities— left much to be desired,
Mr. Gladstone himself never noticed these things.
Unless, indeed, with the graceful tact which has always
distinguished him, and with his extreme love of peace,
he pretended not to notice them. The beds might be
very far from perfection, the rooms bare and otherwise
a I'ltalienne, the food imperfect, and the service negli
gent, but Mr. Gladstone steered quietly, peacefully,
among all these obstacles and ever made the best of
things. Even inclement weather could not upset his
equanimity. For, were there not museums, galleries,
with more works of art than you could ever manage to
stud}', even if you spent all your life among them ?
Old china was for many years a great craze Avith
Mr. Gladstone — one or two cabinetfuls of choice
specimens at Hawarden tell of his collector's propen
sities even now — and he Avas quite happy to spend
days and weeks in a place where he could " live among
china." There is only one thing which has ever been
known to rouse his ire when he was thus happily and
pleasantly toiling and moiling among the things dear to
his heart and mind. Once, now over twenty years ago,
he was " deep in china " somewhere abroad, and politics.

THE HOLIDAYS OF AN OCTOGENARIAN (0
though he had left a stormy sea of them quite lately
behind, had for the moment entirely disappeared from
his mind. For all that those around him could tell he
might never have had any closer acquaintance with the
British ship of State than tlie doorkeeper at the foreign
museum which engrossed his attention just then.
But after a week among Dresden and Sevres and
Dutch and Flemish ware a political colleague, bent,
like the Gladstone part}^ on holidaying, appeared upon
the scene. He received a most cordial welcome, and
basked in the smiles of his leader — we suppress, in
mercy, the name of the now eminent politician who
was the "hero" in this episode — till, after a while, he
turned the conversation to home politics. Then the
eagle eye, that had hitherto beamed so benevolently
upon the new arrival, flashed fire, and the words burst
forth impetuously: " For Heaven's sake, leave polities
alone ! " It was said in a way which made further
admonitions quite unnecessary.
It is Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone's habit to spend part of
the winter abroad, in the South of France, or on the
sunny slopes of the Pyrenees, where, in December,
1895, he arrived on his eighty-sixth birthday at Biarritz.
Mr. Gladstone enjoys these holidays immensely, but
they are not holidays in the sense that they are weeks
and months of inactivity. On the contrary, everj-
moment of the day is as busy as it is at home, for
the Octogenarian takes with him a great deal of work.

76 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
chiefly literary, and is most careful to carry as complete
a set of " tools " with him as is possible.
Few and far between are the men who have liA-ed up
to their principles concerning the division of life as
entirely as Mr. Gladstone. It lias always been one of
his principles that an old man should pass tlic last
years of his life in the pursuit of something more solemn
than party politics. The idea jarred on him years ago
that, on the threshold of another life, a man should still
spend his days in political strife ; and though he was by
no means blind to the fine points of the man who died
in harness, who fought till he fell, he had long ago
made another plan for his own old age.
Thus, when the opportunitj' arose, and he considered
himself justified iu retiring from the fight, he puts his
life-long principle into practice with the same firmness
with which, years ago, he practised that other great
principle of his, according to which no man has the
right to die rich. It will be remembered that at that
time he divided his possessions among his children,
giving every acre of land to his eldest son, and to
Ids otlior sons and daughters each his or her portion.
Since then Mr. Gladstone looks upon himself not as the
master of Hawarden, but as a lodger who is permitted to
spend the rest of his life among his old surroundings.
When, therefore, two years ago, he suddenly retired
from public into the strictest private life, and when
everybody was mildly pitying him because " he must

THE HOUD.A.YS OF AN OOTOGENAUIAN

77

find things so deadly dull," Mr. Gladstone, as a matter
of fact, was entering upon what has now proved to be
one of the happiest periods, of his life. He had count
less interests to which he had never yet had sufficient

THE MORNI.N'G ROOH, HAWAIJDEN CASTLE.

time to devote himself ; and without delay, without
looking back, he plunged into them, as happy as a child,
and became completely absorbed in his literary, classical,
and theological pursuits. At that time the operation
for cataract was to be performed, and Mr. Gladstone
was obliged to be very careful in using his eyes. Also,

78 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
an attack of influenza weakened him somewhat, espe
cially as it left behind a slight internal weakness,
necessitating a certain amount of lying up every day,
up to the time of the journey to the South of France,
from which, however, he returned, ^completely cured
even of this shglit indisposition. The operation on the
eye, as everybody knows, was very successfully per
formed, but at Christmas he had an accident at
Hawarden whifsh filled those about him at first with
the gravest anxiety. Authentic details regarding this
fall have not reached the public hitherto, but the present
account will show both the gravity of it, and also
Mr. Gladstone's truly marvellous power of I'ecupera-
tioii. He was sitting alone in his library one evening,
with no one near him in that part of the house wliere
the " Temple of Peace " is situated. He had been
at his desk reading, and rose, one hand full of books,
and carrying a candle in the other hand, in order to
look for some book he required from another part of
the room. Getting up, he forgot that he had left the
lowest drawer of his writing-table open, stumbled over
it, and fell headlong on the floor. Both hands being
occupied, he could not protect himself, and fell with
his forehead on the parquet floor. Instead of calling
for assistance he tried to get up, and it was only quite
by chance that one of his daughters entered the room
just then. He told her what had happened, but made
light of it. Both his shins were cut, his forehead had

THE HOLIDAYS OF AN OCTOGENARIAN 79
recei\'ed a terrible blow, and he was badly shaken.
At dinner, an hour later, he discussed Hegel in a most
animated manner, then vv'ent to bed, and slept " like a
top." Next morning, however, on getting up, he com
plained that he could not see properly, and during
service at church, instead of following the Lessons in
his Bible, he sat still with closed eyes. On coining
home he was advised professionally to go to bed ; this
he did, in tho middle of the day, and next morning
it was found that he was perfectly restored. His
shins were healing like a healthy child's, his sight
was as good as usual, and the effects of the shock had
passed off completely.
The following account of Mr. Gladstone's latest trip
to Cap Martin, from which he returned early in the
spring of 1895, is typical of all the holidays he has
recently taken. It was Mr. Gladstone's own grimly
humorous observation at the time that he was " verj'
much indeed on the shelf."
The holiday in the South of France, it was hoped,
would remove the last little weakness which, ten months
ago, the influenza had left behind. It had obliged
Mr. Gladstone to breakfast in bed at half-past eight.
But staying in bed to that " late " hour did not mean
sleeping. For even before the breakfast tray arrived
Mr. Gladstone was, absorbed in a book, and very soon
after breakfast he was up and about, to read or write
till luncheon-time. This was also the period when he

80 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
was obliged to leave off attending Morning Prayers,
together with Mrs. Gladstone, at the village church,
about a mile from Hawarden Castle. To the distress of
their friends, neither Mr. nor Mrs. Gladstone would ever
lireakfast before going to the early service, and even if a
cup of tea were unexpectedly sprung upon them by
anxious friends it was but very rarely that Mr. Glad
stone could be persuaded to take it, while Mrs. Gladstone
ncN-er broke her rule of taking nothing before going
to church. Very occasionally Mr. Gladstone, before
entering church, went into the Eectory to ask for a
cup of coffee from the eight o'clock breakfast table.
Notwithstanding this activity, Mr. Gladstone was
obliged, up to the time of his going abroad, to conform
in some slight degree to the doctor's request that lie
should be very careful. He had to lie down after
luncheon for an hour or two, and retain a reclining
position as much as possible. But with his arrival in
the South of France a new regime began. The con-
Aalescence was over ; every moment of the day —
including that devoted to a midday nap — was most
carefully mapped out. Mr. Gladstone got up with a
perfectly clear idea as to what he meant to do that
ilay lietween nine o'clock breakfast and the time when,
after an absorbingly interesting game at backgammon,
he read Family Prayers, by the light of one candle,
at ten p.m.
The breakfast liour at Cap Martin, while Mr. and

THE HOLIDAYS Oi? AN OCTOGENARIAN 81
Mrs. Gladstone were staying there as Mr. Armitstead's
guests, was nine a.m. The most punctual member of the
circle, which also included the Eev. and Mrs. Harry
Drew, was Mr. Gladstone. There is never anybody
more punctual than he, as he is also one of the few
men who can dress very quickly. It takes him just
five minutes in the evening to dress for dinner, and
" dressing for dinner " does not mean slipping on a
velvet coat, or making some little fashionable change
of a similar kind ; but it means with Mr. Gladstone,
donning the regulation evening dress. When alluding
to this habit of dressing quickly, Mr. Gladstone often
playfully quotes Sidney Herbert : " I take five minutes
if I potter ;" because, if necessary, he can be ready in
three minutes.
Breakfast over, Mr. Gladstone, at Cap Martin, added
one new item to his ordinary occupation. He never
was a great reader of newspapers. He has described
himself as Farcus Newspaperorwm altor, et infrequens.
But lately he has made an exception. As regularly as
breakfast-time came round The West-minster Gazette
arrived at Cap Martin, and the first thing Mr. Gladstone
did every morning after breakfast was to read The
Westminster Gazette through from beginning to end.
Next he went to his beloved books or writing table,
and with them he spent his morning in happy peace.
Mr. Gladstone, when reading or writing, wears glasses,
but he can read the very smallest type with the eye
V,

82 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
on which the operation for cataract was performed.
Thus, without glasses, Mr. Gladstone is becoming
short-sighted, though occasionally, like most short
sighted people, he seems to see more than is expected
of him.
One day he was walking in the Empress's Garden at
Cap Martin. A gardener working among the shrubbery
at some distance, and not recognising the promenaders
at once, called out, drawiu" their attention to the fact
that the gardens were private. Presently, however, he
recognised the visitors, who were privileged " intruders,"
and took off his cap. Mr. Gladstone, though still at
some distance from the man, said : " Oh, it is all right
now ! He takes off his cap ; he 's recognised us."
One o'clock was the luncheon hour, and up to that
time Mr. Gladstone could but very rarely be persuaded
to leave his chair. On getting up in the morning, he
had mapped out every minute of the day ; he knew
exactly what he meant to accomplish; not a minute
was wasted, and during the morning he meant to do
a certain amount of reading or writing. Hence, though
the sun was as golden, and the air as blue, as they can
be in the South, the student could not be lured away.
But once or twice, employing many a little ruse inspired
by affection, his friends persuaded Mr. Gladstone to
come for a long drive early in the day. Thus, one
glorious March day, they drove thirteen miles up to
where Castillone crowns one of the loveliest districts

THE HOLIDAYS OF AN OCTOGENARIAN 83
in the world. Instead of the ordinary luncheon a
frugal picnic fare was stowed away in the carriage, and
eaten al fresco; and no one Avas more thoroughly
delighted than he whom it had been so difficult to
entice away from his^books, but who now entered into
the picnic spirit as much as anyone.
But these occasions are rare exceptions. On the
ordinary day, after luncheon, Mr. Gladstone retires for
a nap into an armchair. He never lies down during
the day, excejit by the doctor's orders. LTnlike most
veterans who, when found napping, protest with a
great deal of (wasted) energy that they were not asleep
at all, but had just shut their eyes for a moment, he
readily confesses to his naps. Why should he not,
since "even Homer nods?" In fact, Mr. Gladstone,
iu fun or seriously, heaves many a little sigh over the
necessity of the nap. He is so old, he says, so wealc,
so very much " on the shelf," that he wants his naps
during the day. And then he closes his eyes and
exercises his marvellous power of calling sleep to him
at will. Not for long, however, for at half -past two he
is ready either for a drive or a walk. Long walks are
of the past, but ai the age of eighty-six he is not afraid
of a tramp of from three to four miles.
Next comes the psychological moment, tea-time at
half-past four, Mr. Gladstone is still as fond of tea as
ever, and after having taken the air for a couple of
hours it is just the best po3.sible stimulant before
G 2

84 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
another very little nap is quietly introduced. More
books, more writing from six p.m. to the dinner hour
at eight, or rather to the five minutes to eight, which,
'¦ if I potter," are required for dressing. Mr. Gladstone
has never been a great conversationalist. He has no
give-and-take, and does not adapt his talk to his
hearers. But he soliloquises, like Hamlet, most
delightfully. As a talker, Mr. Gladstone has always
been famous, and if his " table talks " had been reported
they would have made some of the most brilliant
literary contributions of the century. It is well known
that when a Ministerial or Parliamentary dinner was
given in Downing Street, not only when Mr. Gladstone
was in the prime of life, but during quite recent years,
Mrs. Gladstone and her daughters, the only ladies who
had been present at these political entertainments,
often yearned to go back into the dining-room, whence,
after they had retired, they still lieard peal after peal
of merriment. There is not a subject under the sun
on which Mr. Gladstone cannot, if so it please him,
talk with exceptional fascination.
Nevertheless, he is not always in the mood for tallc.
There have always been times when he was silent and
absorbed, and when not even his best friends could
arouse him from his- thoughtfulness. This is so even
now. Mr. Gladstone is not one whit less brilliant
whenever he does talk; but he has periods of
abstraction when " silence is golden."

THE HOLIDAYS OP AN OCTOGENARIAN 85
When Mr. Gladstone and his friend Mr. Armitstead,
or Lord Eendel, are together, the after-dinner arrange
ment is always a game of backgammon. It is keenly
enjoyed by both players, till, at ten p.m., it is the hour
of Family Prayers. At the Cap Martin Hotel, visitors
who had come to see Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone and
their friends sometimes asked permission to stay for
Prayers ; the servants, too, came in, bringing some
of their fellow-domestics. Thus the circle gradually
increased till after a while a considerable congregation
assembled every night in the drawing-room to listen
to Mr. Gladstone reading the Lessons, and to the
Eev. H. Drew, who read the P;ayers. After Prayers
the household retired to rest.

CHAPTEE VII.
WITH :\Ii;. GLADSTONE AT SEA.
Books and Sea-breezes — A Visit from the iCiug of Denmark
— Mr. Gladstone as the "Right Reverend" Gentleman —
The Gothenbuig System on the Spot — A Little Political
Complication.
AVilEN the Baltic Canal was opened, in June 1895,
j\lr. and Mrs. Gladstone, together with several other
members of their family, were among the guests whom
Sir Donald Currie took for a cruise, to see the fun.
There, again, Mr. Gladstone made a most successful
holiday, though when he took his constitutional on
board every afternoon, at five o'clock, some of his
fellow-passengers came to the conclusion that, after all,
the veteran was getting old and feeble. They judged
him by his slow walk and very quiet manner. And as
his fellow-passengers had the good taste never to

WITH MK. -GLADSTONE AT SEA 87
intrudes upon the chief guest on board, or make any
attempt at mobbing him, they had no opportunity of
judging him by any other standard. For Mr. Gladstone
himself, absorbed as he was in other things, was not
sociable in the ordinary acceptation of the term. At
this no one was surprised, since at his age any man
may well be excused from entering into the petty
affairs of social intercourse, even with those he knows
well, to say nothing of those whom he knows not at all
except by name.
There was plenty of life and enjoyment in every
quarter of Sir Donald Currie's magnificent steamer, but
day after day, with the sounds of genial holiday life all
about him, Mr. Gladstone, as soon as breakfast was over,
went into the deck-cabin reserved for him, and read or
wrote all day long, with the meal-times and the half-
hour's constitutional as his only intervals. The door of
the cabin .stood open so that he could look out upon
the water, and sit, as it were, in the open air. But
whenever any of his friends,, in passing by, threw in a
glance, they found Mr. Gladstone absorbed in the work
before him. He took a few books on board ; one on
the North Sea, and the Baltic, another concerning the
Puritans, and a couple of novels for lighter reading.
But these were only resorted to for recreative purposes
the chief occupation being the edition of the " Works
of Bishop Butler" on which Mr. Gladstone has been
engaged for many years in intervals of other work, and

88 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
which has now, for some months past, been the sub
ject most prominently in his mind and most constantly
in his hands.
It was in order to make some final researches at the
British Museum in connexion with the life of Bishop
Butler that Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone, after the cruise,
stayed for a few days in London. Every evening was
engaged beforehand for a dinner-party, but Mr. Glad
stone spent nearly the whole of the day in quiet work
at the British Museum.
It will be remembered that, just before going for the
holiday cruise to Kiel, Mr. Gladstone was indisposed.
At the time no one outside his own home circle and
his physicians knew how grave this indisposition was.
And it was as sudden as it was serious. One evening
he went to bed perfectly well, and next morning he
woke up with his voice entirely gone. Later on a
terrible cough and great feverishness heightened the
anxiety of Mr Gladstone's friends, and even the day
before starting for London, and for the 'Tantallon Castle,
it seemed very doubtful whether the voyage could be
undertaken at all. However, a sudden change for the
better set in, and Mr. and Mrs, Gladstone, together
with the Eev. and Mrs. Harry Drew, left Hawarden
Castle at the appointed time. Mr. Gladstone, who is
an exemplary patient, was perfectly free from anxiety
about his state of liealth, but one thing troubled him
not a little. Like the fall he had last winter, the cough

WITH MR. GLADSTONE AT SEA 89
now had affected the sight of the eye on which he had
recently had the operation for cataract, and objects
before him seemed indistinct and confused. Consider
ing how much Mr. Gladstone depends for his keenest
interests and pleasures on being able to read and write,
this weakness of the eyes was very troublesome.
Fortunately, soon after the beginning of the voyage,
it disappeared entirely, and Mr. Gladstone saw again
quite as well as before.
Many and pleasant were the impressions which
he brought back from his cruise to the North. One
of the things which touched him very deeply was
when, on meeting the King of Denmark, the latter was
so moved that his voice broke, and he could hardly
complete his speech. The banquet of enthusiastic
Hamburgers on board was greatly enjoyed, and the
Burgomaster's amusing little mistake in addressing
Mr. Gladstone as the " right reverend " — a mistake, by
the way, which was altogether unintentional — was
appreciated at its full value by the " right reverend "
gentleman. No sight-seeing of any kind was done by Mr. Gladstone
and his friends. At Copenhagen there was just a drive,
on a very cold afternoon, to a beautiful deer park
some distance from the town. But Gothenburg, that
most interesting of ancient Norse cities, aroused
Mr. Gladstone's deepest interest. He drove about,
and even went so far as to study the Gothenburg

90 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
system on the spot by entering one of the public-
houses, and informing himself of the details of the
liquor trade as tliey appear when actively applied. An
amusing little incident took place on the same occasion.
One of the most interesting places in Gothenburg is
an old curiosity shop of great importance. To this
Mr. Gladstone went with a few of his friends, only to
find, on arriving, that the owner was "away all through
June," as a label informed all would-be purchasers.
Poor shopman ! The news which reached him on his
return, of the visit he had missed by going "away all
through June," would no doubt spoil his recollections
of the summer holiday of '95.
I'rom the mysterious source whence flow at all
times, if a personage be prominently " before the
public," the most astonishing tales and stories, there
came, at that time, one that attributed to Mr. Gladstone
the saying that it was for the sake of his health, and
not for his enjoyment, that he had accepted Sir Donald
Currie's invitation for the cruise to Kiel. Seeing that
all through his long life Mr. Gladstone has been the
N'ery pattern of tact, politeness, and stately courtesy,
it is almost incredible that so clumsy and ungracious
a statement could be attributed to him. As a matter
of fact, Mr. Gladstone was most grateful to Sir Donald
for the very enjoyable holiday, and took endless trouble
to compose a note of thanks to Sir Donald in his name
and in the names of the other guests on board. The

WITH MR. GLADSTONE AT SEA 91
exact wording took him some time, and when he was
satisfied with it he sat down in his deck-cabin and
copied the whole of the letter, so that it might be
given to Sir Donald before the party dispersed. At
breakfast, on the last morning, he read the letter out,
preceding it by sueh graceful words of appreciation
of the hospitality on board the Tantallon Castle that
this little impromptu speech is reckoned by not a few
who heard it as the best of Mr. Gladstone's speeches
during the cruise.
Another unreported speech Mr. Gladstone made
while on board was to the Chief Engineer of H.M.S.
Royal Sovereign, who, together with his fellow officers,
came on board to be jiresented to Mr. Gladstone. The
subject of this eloquent speech was an enlargement on
the wonderful work, order, and organisation which
made up the discipline on board a naval vessel.
The only way in which the political crisis which
followed Mr. Gladstone's return immediately affected
him and his friends was rather amusing. It had been
arranged that on their return to town Mrs. Drew
should stay at the house of Mr. and Miss Balfour, who
are among the most intimate friends, in private life, of
Mr. Gladstone and his family. On reaching Gravesend,
and hearing the news of the crisis, Mrs. Drew decided
that, under the circumstances, it would be better for the
comfort of everyone concerned that Mr. Gladstone's
daughter should not be a guest at the house of friends

92 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
ill the very front ranks of the enemy's camp, and thus in
the very thick of the crisis, with its incessant calls and
missives. A wire was, therefore, sent Miss Balfour, to
the effect that Mrs. Drew was going to the house of
other friends. A few hours after her arrival there
Miss Balfour called, and it was agreed that just then,
notv/ithstanding the most cordial relations, it was
a relief that an invitation given in times of peaceful
calm could be cancelled on tlie day of storm and
stress.

CHAPTEE VIII.
MR. GLADSTONE'S GIFT TO THE NATION.

Mr. Gladstone on "Posthumous Charity "-The Sale of His
Collection— His Determination to Found a Theological
Library— The Sclieme for St. Deinoil's Hostel and Library
— Growth of the Scheme— Mr. Gladstone as Librarian —
A First Glance at the Library.

The first and foremost subject which occupies
Mr. Gladstone, and of which he never grows tired, is,
as has been said, his theological work. Bishop Butler
comes first, and other theological studies are almost as
absorbing. But besides these, there is one subject on
which Mr. Gladstone has spent a great deal of thought
and time and care since he has retired from public life.
This subject is St. Deiniol's Library, Mr. Gladstone's
magnificent gift to the nation, which passed formally
into the hands of Trustees on January 1st, 1896.

94 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
It is not known to anyone when the idea of the
Hawarden Theological and General Library first entered
Mr. Gladstone's mind. But the making over to some
institution for the use of the nation of his rich store of
books has long been decided upon. Also, that the gilt
should be made in Mr. Gladstone's lifetime, for, like
that other Grand Old Man, Mr, G. F. Watts, E.A., he
does not think much of what he calls "posthumous
charity." It is easy enough, Mr. Gladstone reasons, to
gi^'e away your possessions after you are dead, when
you want them no more. But the right thing is to do
so while you are alive; to give to others as soon as you
can do so, in,stead of keeping it all in order that you
may increase your own comforts and those of your
family.* * In this connexion it may be interesting to recall a letter
which Mr. Gladstone wrote shortly after the publication of
Mr. Andrew Carnegie's "Gospel of Wealth." We sent the
proof-sheets of the article in which Mr. Carnegie discussed,
in detail, his doctrine that " the man who dies rich dies
disgraced," to Mr. Gladstone, and the following was the
reply :— Hawarden Castle,
Christmas Day, 1889.
Dear Sir,
I answer your letter promptly, for I think it an
honour to be associated with Mr. Carnegie in the noble purposes
and doctrines of the " Gospel of Wealth." I have, therefore,
begun by reading his proof-sheets, in violation of a rule I am
obliged frequently and ruthlessly to apply to other quarters.

MR. GLADSTONE'S GIFT TO THE NATION 95
More than twenty years ago, when Mr. Gladstone
sold his fine collections of china, old ivory, etc., he
began to put this theory into practice. A tiny
remainder of these treasures may still be seen at
1 follow Mr. Carnegie in nearly everything he affirms and
recommends. My main reservation is prompted by his lan
guage respecting endowment of twenty million (dollars) granted
with a splendid munificence to Stanford University.
My mind is possessed with much misgiving, which rather
grows than diminishes as years roll on, about the wholesale
endowment of offices and places. That subject is much too
large for present discussion. I may say, however, that there is
a large field for University expenditure lying beyond the scope
of this remark ; the remark itself I may illustrate by saying
with reference to the large endowments of learning, or, at least,
of places and oflices with a view to learning, in this country,
that I have doubts whether it does not raise the market-price of
the higher education, which it aims at lowering, and which I
suppose to be dearer in this country than perhaps in any another.
I do not, however, go beyond this, that I cannot join in an
aflirmation quite so unqualified, on this particular point, as that
of Mr. Carnegie's article.
I must add that the growing tendency to the dissociation of
¦ Universities, as such, from religion does not abate, but enhances,
the force of all such considerations as have suggested my
language of reserve.
I now come to an important addition which I should like to
attach to the Gospel of Wealth. I see no reason why, in the
list of admissible and desirable objects for the dedicatin of
friends, we are not to include their direct dedication to the
service and honour of God. The money spent in the erection
of our cathedrals, and our great churches hardly inferior to
cathedrals, has been large, and has in my judgment been very
well laid out. What I have said as to the endowment of

96 IN THE EVENING QF HIS DAYS
Hawarden Castle, in a few cases containing specimens
of precious porcelain, carved ivory, and exquisitely
beautiful old Italian jewelleiy. A little incident which
happened the other day shews that Mr. Gladstone
did not find it an easy thing to part with the things
of beauty acquired in the course of many years.
Mr. Herbert Gladstone brought home a carved ivory
figure which he had chanced to see in an antiquarian's
shop at Liverpool, and which was labelled '' From
Mr. Gladstone's Collection." Mr. Gladstone recognised
it at once, and presently the price was mentioned
which his son had paid for it. The question then arose
whether the figure had risen or fallen in value, and
somebody suggested that Mr. Gladstone had a catalogue
sent to him at the time of the sale of his collection, in
which the prices were given. " Yes," he replied, " the
catalogue was sent, and I have it still ; but I have never

offices and places has some application to the great province
of religion. But, apart from this, and apart from marvellous
and noble works, such as the cathedrals, the institutions of
religion, the works of devotion, learning, mercy, and utility,
connected with it, are numerous and divei-sified. Religion
is a giant with a hundred hands, whose strength, however, is
not for rapine, but for use. I should wish to bring its claim,
proportionate and therefore large, under the consideration of the
open-handed and open-minded philanthropist.
I remain. Your faithful and obedient,
W. E. Gladstone.

MK. GLADSTONE'S GIFT TO THE NATION 97
had the heart to look at it." This was the only time
that he had ever said one word 'about his private
sentiments with regard to the sale.
As the years went by the idea gradually took
shape of making over to the nation his own library.
When this decision had been taken, Mr. Gladstone
began to look about for a fitting place where the
books might find a home. At first it was thought
that rooms might be set apart for them in an
existing institution, perchance in London or Liver
pool. This, of course, would have obviated the
necessity of acquiring a special building. But it was
argued that neither London nor Liverpool, nor any other
great central town, would be a place wherein quiet
students and scholars might with advantage pursue a
course of study in " Divine learning." The restlessness
and roar of milhonf old human life would be a disturbing
element in any library intended for a Temple of Peace.
Mr. Gladstone fully agreed with this objection, and it
was then suggested that, since he now entertained the
idea of causing a special building to be erected in
some rural district, Hawarden itself would be the most
suitable spot. The perfect seclusion of the village ;
the ease with which it may be reached (especially now
that a new line has been opened between Liverpool
and North Wales, which brings Hawarden within half
an hour's distance from Liverpool) ; the beauty and
healthiness of the district; and also the associations H

98 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
of the whole place with Mr. Gladstone ; all seemed to
point to Hawarden as the ideal situation for the
Theological Library.
Some four or five years ago Hawarden village awoke
one morning to an interesting fact. A new building
was to be added to the place, and such a fact, in villages
much larger than Hawarden, is always important and
exciting. Not far from the famous old Parish Church,
nearer still to the ancient building known as the
Grammar School, the stonemasons had begun their work
of laying a brick foundation. Who was the enterprising
spirit that had chosen this spot at the end of the
village, on the edge of the hill, for a dwelling-place ?
At first there were manifold rumours, but gradually
it appeared that this was not going to be an ordinary
house of brick or stone, as is every self-respecting
cottage at Hawarden, but an iron structure. What ! a
chapel-of-ease, so near the old Parish Church ? Or —
but surely this could not be so! — a Dissenter's
chapel ? It was neither ; it was a library, and it was
Mr. Gladstone's. And with this knowledge the villagers
had to be satisfied. But when the Iron Library was
finished, when cartload after cartload of books had
been sent to it from " The Castle," when builders and
carpenters and painters had finished their work, one
more item of information was added to the villagers'
knowledge on the subject. The library was not for
them. This might have been a blow— even though

MR. GLADSTONE'S GIFT TO THE NATION 99
Hawarden had its library at the local institute — to some
spirits thirsting for "book-learning;" but the blow was
tempered when it became known that the bulk of the
twenty thousand volumes of which it is composed
are mostly on theological and kindred subjects.

ST. deiniol S HBRAUT.

" The Castle people," it was evident to all Hawarden,
took the greatest interest in the Iron Library, and
Mr. Gladstone himself, whenever he fled to Hawarden
Castle in his short intervals of rest, spent a great many
hours among the books, which he himself had selected
from the treasures of his own hbrary. In the library
at the Castle, meanwhile, there were also abundant signs
that something special was going on. The "Temple
of Peace," as Mr. Gladstone's library is always called by
his family and friends, looked as if some great upheaval
were taking place. The floor and the tables were
covered with boxes and parcels of books, all " weeded
out " from among the rest by the owner himself , and all
H 2

100 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
destined to fill the ample shelves of the new Iron
Library. Thus gradually the project of the St. Deiniol's
Library took definite shape, and together with it grew
up the twin project of the Hostel, which also goes by
the name of the same old Welsh patron saint. For if
this retreat for theological scholars and students were
situated far from the madding crowd, in a quiet Flint
shire village, it must needs be joined to some place
where the students could make a congenial temporary
home. Hence the Hostel. When the spot for the
present Library had been fixed upon, at the end
of Hawarden Village, the house which was to be
converted into the Hostel was already there. It had
been a grammar school for many a long year, but
now it was empty, and as yet no intending tenant
had made a bid for the quaint old brick house, with
its solid oak staircases, its desks and peep-windows
and raftered ceilings in the large old class-rooms.
Mr. Gladstone's daughter, Mrs. Drew, who, together
with her husband, the Eev. Harry Drew, had taken
the liveliest interest in the whole scheme from the very
beginning, saw at once that the whilom grammar school
(now a thing of the past since the Intermediate
Education Act destroyed all institutions of this kind)
would prove a veritable treasure, an ideal hostel. And
there and then Mrs. Drew set to work, and converted
the dilapidated old place into as delightful and as

;4,

f ^ ^

MR. GLADSTONE'S GIFT TO THE NATION 103
picturesque a dwelling-place as can be imagined. Even
eighteen months ago, just after the first students had
availed themselves of a quiet " theological holiday," the
place was full of charm, standing in a green country
garden full of flowers and shrubs and old fruit trees
But now, after it has been in full working order for
more than a year, and after over a hundred students
have lodged within its walls, the Hostel blossoms
literally like a rose. Everything is simple. If it were
not, it would be out of harmony with the whole aim
and object of Mr. Gladstone's gift. There is a
little landing upstairs, with just a few chairs and a
table, and with a magnificent view over the low-lying
district over which, after dark, the lights of Liverpool
give a lurid colouring to the sky, where Mrs. Gladstone
often comes to write some of her letters. " It is so
peaceful up there," she says, in her kindly way ; " I
can get on better than in almost any other place, when
I sit by tho window with that view before my eyes.''
For a student coming from the busy world, and with
his mind filled with the grave, great subjects with
which are filled the majority of the twenty thousand
A'olumes in the adjoining Library, the place is nothing
short of the ideal, And as the interior of the Hostel, so
its surroundings. The jessamine and ivy which hung
in wild liberty over the front have now been trimmed
and clipped into perfect neatness, and send their shoots
up to the very roof The garden, with its hips and haws

104 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
on all the rose-bushes, and with innumerable signs
(understandable to every lover of a garden) of last
summer's blossomings and bloomings, is beautiful even
in December, and in its sheltered nooks the velvety
pansies have not grown tired of keeping, with grand
motherly faces, a watch over the place, and giving a
welcome to all who may walk along the gravel walk
that leads from St. Deiniol's Church to the Hbstel, and
then onward to the Library.
As it is with the Hostel, so it is with the Library
itself. In one short twelvemonth it passed out of its
initial stage into that of perfect order and regularity.
There was at the beginning only a somewhat undefined
country path across the green field separating the
Library from the high road. Now a wide, , neat,
gravelled walk, at the end of which a new iron gate
prevents the "man in the street" from too easy admit
tance into the precincts of the Library, leads up to the
very door. The roses in the beds under the Library
window are taking root and courage, and in the lawn
the crocuses of next March are asleep. Up the sides
of the iron building the climbing plants are lustily
growing, and what was a rough field is now an even
lawn. It is true the present iron building in which the
Theological Library is housed is to be only a tempo
rary home, but those in authority have wisely avoided
the great mistake so often made, where " things are only

MR. GLADSTONE'S GIFT TO THE NATION 107
temporary," of altogether neglecting appearances and
comfort. The iron building might be intended to last
for centuries, so much care and attention have been
bestowed upon it in every way.
The two chief rooms in the Library have now a
settled look about them. They are two rooms as
beautiful as a great many good books, well printed, well
bound, and well arranged, can make any room. You
see at St. Deiniol's Library the truth of the saying that
nothing furnishes a room so well as books. Not that
there is any lack of other suitable furniture to give a
cosy and homelike look to the rooms. . There are good
large substantial writing-tables with all the necessaries
for note-taking, etc. ; there are easy chairs in the
recesses between the windows, and there are some in
teresting pictures, medallion portraits, etc. One of the
rooms has been named by Mr. Gladstone the Divinity
Eoom, the other the Humanity Eoom. The former
contains only works on theology and kindred subjects ;
in the other are included books on most subjects under
the sun, many of them being intended for recreative
reading, such as Mr. Gladstone himself indulges in after
he has " worked at books " for ten hours a day.
Dr. Dollinger's portrait hangs over one of the
doors, and a small terra-cotta medallion of Cardinal
Manning was hung up by Mr. Gladstone against one
of the shelves on \\-hich the works on Eoman Catho
licism have their places. Over the door leading into

108 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
the Humanity Eoom a fine cartoon by Henry Holiday
has recently been jilaced. The female figure aptly
represents " Theology."
But it is now time to look a little more closely into
this remarkable Institution, and to explain its objects.
This, M'ith the aid of facilities most kindly afforded us
at headquarters, we proceed to do in the following
chapters.

CHAPTEE IX.

ST. DEINIOL S LIBRARY.

The Inception of the Library — The Object of the Foundation
— A Dream of the Future— The View frora St. Deiniol's —
A Student's Retreat — The Divinity Room -The Humanity
Room— The Warden's Study— The Trust Deed-
Mr. Gladstone at the Library — Mr. John Morley and the
Photographer — Mr. Gladstone's Eyesight.
A FEW years ago the emharras de richesscs in books
rendered it necessary that something should be done to
prevent overcrowding and its attendant annoyances.
It was then that Mr. Gladstone disclosed his scheme of
making over to the nation the Hawarden Library,
which, of all his possessions, he values most. The
great mass of important theological works (works of
which each volume has a deep interest to Mr. Gladstone
himself, great theologian as he is) would be all but
wasted in an ordinary private library. Hence, they must
not be allowed to remain private property, but must be

110 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
disposed of on the principle of making them of the
greatest use to the greatest number.
Mr. Gladstone's scheme for securing this end is as
follows : — In the days to come, he argues, should the
Disestablishment of the Church of Wales become a
fact — when an endowed clergy would cease to exist —
it would be a boon to theologians, students, scientists,
and those connected with any educational work, to
know that there is a place to which they may go for
those works which they themselves are unable to
procure. Considering who is the originator and founder
of the scheme, it goes without saying that the whole
scheme is on the broadest and most liberal lines, and
that the Library is founded for all students and readers,
absolutely regardless of denomination. That this is a
generous scheme will strike one and all, but how
generous it is can only be realised by those who have
an idea of the truly magnificent Tlieological Library,
including many of the most rare and valuable works,
which Mr. Gladstone thus puts at the service of the
the public.
The Library itself, however, is only one part of
Mr. Gladstone's scheme. Those who "o to a theological
library for instruction or research, require, as a rule, a
course of study extending at least over a few days, and
in many cases over weeks, and perhaps months. Hence
they require hotel accommodation, or an equivalent for
it. But hotel accommodation even, under the most

ST. deiniol's LIBRARY 111
favourable circumstances, and apart from pecuniary
considerations, is not exactly in harmony with the
requirements of a student of theology or kindred
subjects. He wants quiet for thought and reflection,
even during the hours he is not actually at the Library;
he wants, if possible, kindred spirits, with whom, at
meal-times or in a leisure hour, he can discuss subjects
of common interest. And he wants also, in order that
he may preserve his bodily health, a place where his
material wants may be cared for in a simple, sensible
way. This want, also, has been taken into consideration
and fully supplied by Mr. Gladstone. St. Deiniol's
Hostel, standing between Hawarden Parish Church and
the Library, and less than a stone's-throw from either,
has been instituted for the accommodation of those
wishing to make use of the Library. We shall pre
sently give a full and detailed account of the Hostel,
but return for the present to the Library itself.
It stands high on the breezy hill-top, this Iron
Library, which contains twenty thousand volumes,
many of them counting among the rare literary treasures
of the country. It is not a thing of beauty, seen from
the outside, though its somewhat irregular form, its
small spire, and the climbing plants and flowers around
it, which are just beginning to take courage and grow,
redeem it from the hopeless unsightliness afflicting
most iron buildings. One step off the village street

112 IN the evening OF HIS DAYS
towards the Library, and you are in the field in which
the building stands. As you look around you, from the
Library door, you think that it would be almost a pity
to improve away the scarlet poppies in the grass, the
daisies, and the golden dandelions : the simple natural
ness seems so entirely in harmony with the place and
its object.
Then, turning from your immediate surroundings,
you look farther afield, and you are satisfied. On your
right, on the hill slope, is Hawarden Churchyard, where,
for some centuries past, the Flintshire villagers have
been laid in their last sleep. Of course you must pre
sently go and look more closely at the graveyard, on
your way to the church made famous by Mr. Gladstone ;
but from where you stand, at the library door, only one
grave attracts your special attention. A simple white
marble cross rises from it, under a young acacia tree ;
there are no other graves near ; a wreath of deep blue
velvet pansies circles the grave, and on the front of
the gleaming marble cross you read the name.
" W. H. Gladstone, who passed away 4tli July, 1891,"
and under it, in black letters : —
Soon shall come the great awaking,
Soon the rending of the tomb ;
Then the scattering of all shadows.
And the end of toil and gloom.
You turn to the left, and your eye falls on a rounded
hillock, with a crown of thriving pines and other trees

ST. deiniol's library 113
This also is a grave, but one of ancient times, and no
one knows to what hoary warrior may have belonged
the bones that were found beneath this picturesque
green mound.
The hill slopes rapidly from the Library field. The
school is just below ; a few belated lads straggle
towards the door; from the inside comes faintly the
sound of a song chirped by a chorus of shrill infant
voices, and silently, close by, with a cloud of clear
blue smoke rising from it, lies the schoolmaster's idyllic
abode, smothered in roses and clematis, blooming
amidst the blaze of scarlet and gold foliage of a
climbing plant. Beyond the cluster of trees you see
gabled cottage roofs. The gardener lias left his ladder,
from the heights of which he has been clipping the
too luxurious jessamine branches covering the front
wall of the Hostel. " See those houses ?" he says,
pointing towards the gables under the trees ; " my
mother lives in one of them. She remembers when
Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone were married, fifty-seven years
ago. She was a servant in this here house, which is
now the Hostel. The two Miss Glynnes was married
on the same day; my mother saw it all. And there
was open house, yes, here at the Hostel, all the day
and all the night. Anybody might come in and eat
and drink as much as they liked. Does my mother
remember it all ? Bless you, same as you would.
Trust her for being all there." And then he sidles a
I

114 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
httle closer up to j'ou. "Is it true what they say,
that he — " pointing his thumb over his shoulder in
the direction of Hawarden Park gates — ^^"is coming
here this afternoon ? About three ? Then, ye'll see,
he'll be here on the stroke of three. If he's walking,
he'll come through the churchyard, and if he's driving,
through the field. If he says three it will be the
stroke of three. He's as good as his word."
You turn to the view once more. The autumn mist
has lifted ; for a moment you realise that from this
breezj' hill you have a magnificent view : magnificent
for its extent over the green wooded plain below,
" across the sands of Dee," to where, in the far distance,
the pale sea joins the paler sky ; magnificent also for
its perfect repose and peace. Truly, an ideal spot
for a student's " retreat."
A bright fire meets your eye at once as you open
the Library door. Everywhere about in the large
room are books — books — books. The Iron Library is
arranged in the same ingenious way as Mr.- Gladstone's
private library at Hawarden Castle. There are windows
on either side of the long room, and between these
windows high bookcases, running towards the centre
of the room, are put up. There are books on either
side of these cases, and the part facing the centre of
the room is again arranged to hold books- It is truly
marvellous how many books can thus be stored without
a single one being out of sight.

ST. deiniol's library 117
Apart from this arrangement of the books, the room
reminds you strangely of the " Temple of Peace " at
Hawarden, where Mr. Gladstone has spent so many
of the happiest days and hours of his life. There
is the same simplicity, the same quiet comfort, the
same air of repose, and the same absence of library
conventionality about. Such is the Dollinger or
Divinity Eoom, the most important part of the Library,
and as your eye wanders over the splendid army of
books, you almost envy the students who may come
here to read to their hearts' content. The only rule
concerning the contents of the books is, that none of
]Mr. Gladstone's annotations on the margins may be
copied or quoted as illustrating his views on certain
questions, since such quotations might convey an
altogether wrong impression. As a matter of fact,
Mr. Gladstone often jots down marginal remarks when
an idea occurs to him while reading, though that idea
may in no way represent his views.
Through a door, over which hangs the fine cartoon
by Henry Holiday, you reach the second room in the
Library, to which Mr. Gladstone has given the name of
the Humanity Eoom. It is arranged on exactly the
same plan as the first, and contains secular works chiefly.
You note Madame de Sevignc^'s letters on one shelf, in
neat and dainty little volumes ; a yellow-backed Zola
lower down, among miscellaneous French works ; six
gigantic volumes of "Denkmaler aus Egypten," which

118 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
have just been bought from the great Quaritch for sixty
pounds, are being unpacked ; all your favouiito English
and foreign authors and poets are there: biography,
history, travel, fictioii' — in fact, whatever your heart
may wisii for in the way of literary wares, is here at
your disposal, in order that when you have steeped
your mind in theology during a long, studious day you
may have some recreative reading provided in the secu
lar room. Many an object in the Hostel and Library is
interesting for its association with Mr. Gladstone's
public career. Here, there, and everywhere you see
caskets, paper-knives, albums, chairs, pictures, and
ever so many other things, all of which have been
given to Mr. Gladstone on some occasion by political
adherents and disciples. In the Library itself there is
a fine walnut book-case, which, with excellent taste,
the Leeds, Huddersfield, and Heavy Woollen District
Federation of Liberal Clubs chose in the year of grace
1895, as a present which would probably give more
pleasure than anything else to their G.O.M.
Five small private studies have been set apart in the
Library for such students who may prefer to do their
work in solitude. Each of these rooms is a cosy little
corner with everything required for a quiet reading and
writing room, and with a view from the windows which
is beautiful enough to make a.ny student lift up his
heart, however puzzling and worrying his knotty points
of theology may be.

.^

./=-

ft E«^ — I'

ST. deiniol's library 121
Next there is the Warden's bright little sanctum.
The Eev. H. Drew (who holds the combined office of
Warden and Chief Librarian of St. Deiniol's), and the
Assistant Librarian (Mr. Eye), have a working period be
hind them of which they may well be proud. Mr. Drew,
after helping Mr. Gladstone with his correspondence
arrives every morning shortly after eleven at the Hostel.
All the twenty thousand volumes in the Library had to
be catalogued, and what this means no one will fully
appreciate unless he has ever tried his hand at cata
loguing books in a satisfactory manner. The Divinity
Eoom catalogue is complete, and it is a pleasure to open
a drawer in the neat library card catalogue cabinet,
holding the Ceres Card Files, which are far and away
the simplest and most satisfactory invention of their
kind. Considerable additions (which fortunately can
be made to the card catalogue without at all interfering
with its neatness and comprehensive form) will have
to be made whenever the remainder of Mr. Gladstone's
gift books, now still at the Castle, are brought over
to St. Deiniol's. These number from six to eight
thousand volumes, all of which will eventually go to
the Theological Library. It is interesting, by the way,
that the library at Hawarden Castle — is by the owner
thereof now only considered as part of St. Deiniol's
Library. It is simply, as we have before stated, " the
Castle section," which Mr. Gladstone looks upon as a
loan he is privileged to make from the rightful owners.

122

IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS

the men to whom he has bequeathed every one of the
books he has acquired in a long lifetime. The books

ST. deiniol's library : THE WARDEN'S ROOM.
of the far-famed Glynne libraiy, which he found when
Hawarden came into his possession, are the only part
of his library which he does not feel at liberty to
dispose of.
There is one interesting piece of furniture in the
Warden's room . a large carved oak armchair, with

ST. deiniol's library 123
a small round plate let in at the back, bearing the
following inscription : " To' the Eight Honourable
W. E. Gladstone, M.P., First Lord of the Treasury,
by the Liberals of the Borough of Greenwich and the
Liberal Clubs of the neighbourhood. In testimony of
their high appreciation of the priceless services rendered
by him to the countiy, and in' remembrance of the
proud distinction he conferred upon the borough as its
Eepresentative in Parliament from 1868 to 1880."
With January 1st, 18.96, St. Deiniol's Libraiy and all
that is comprised in Mr. Gladstone's gift to the nation
entered upon a new phase of its existence. It passed
formally into the ' hands of the eight Trustees whom
Mr. Gladstone has paid the compliment of asking them to
accept this office from him. The first informal meeting
of the Trustees was held in October 1895, at Hawarden
Castle, Mr. Gladstone presiding and setting forth the
whole scheme. He himself had sketched the Trust Deed,
which was drawn up by Sir Walter Phillimore, one
of the trustees, and which since then has been soine-
w.hat altered in form, but very little in substance. The
main features of the Deed are as follows : —
The property purchased by Mr. Gladstone — including
not only the present Hostel and Library, but a large
field immediately adjoining — is vested in the Trustees,
together with all the books and papers now in the
Library, or hereafter to be conveyed thither by him.

124 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
A sum of about thirty thousand pounds in various
stocks is included in the settlement for maintenance
and endowment purposes. The nature of the trust is
thus defined : —
To form a library and institution, to be called St. Deiniol's
Library, which library and institution is to be for the pro
motion of Divine learning in the sense put upon those words
by the Church of England, with which Church the Settlor,
believing that she will be always faithful to her trust, hereby
].>rovi(Ies that the Foundation is always to be in connexion.
Thc chief oflicial of the Foundation is to be called the
Warden and Chief Librarian, and is to be in Priest's
(Jrders. During the lifetime of the Founder the
Warden is to be appointed by him ; and " the Trustees
shall endeavour, as far as possible consistently with
the main design, to maintain the connexion of the
foundation with the family of the Founder and with
the Parish of Hawarden." Two further points in the
Trust Deed may be mentioned as of some special
interest for their " liberal " tendency. One is that the
Trustees and officials may be men or women, married
or single. The other is the ample power given to the
Trustees to make the Foundation " move -with the
times." They may alter its form, divide it, and remove
it from the Parish of Hawarden— though this latter
power is not to be exercised for at least five years— or,
by consent of all, dissolve it.

THE HEY. II. DREW, WARDEN OF ST. DEINIOL'S.

ST. deiniol's library 127
The actual amount set apart by Mr. Gladstone for the
endowment of the Library will bring iu a considerable
income. Added to this, there will be the income derived
from such students as can afford to pay the sum of
twenty-five shillings a weeiv for board and lodgings at
the Hostel. It is believed that thus there A\'ill be sufli-
cient money to defray the expenses of the institution,
to maintain a special fund for poor students and clergy,
who upon inquiry are found to be unable to pay for
their stay, and also to set apart a sum of money for
eventually erecting a more permanent building wherein
to house the Library. The surplus, after this has been
accomplished, is to be devoted to the purchase of
further books suitable for a collection of works on
Divnie learning.
It is Mr. Gladstone's wish that the permanent build
ing should be in the same place where, in the present
iron stracture, the scheme came first into operation.
For this purpose he has recently bought from the
Ecclesiastical Commissioners the Hostel and the glebe-
land upon which it stands, and from the Hawarden
estate an additional large piece of ground adjoining
the Hostel and surrounding the Libraiy. The Tru.stees
of the fund are all personal friends of " the Settlor,"
and fully iu sympathy with his views. They are the
Eev. Stephen Gladstone (Eector of Hawarden), Countess
Grosvenor, the Hon. and Eev. A. Lyttelton, Sir Walter
Phillimore, the Hon. Mrs. W. H. Gladstone and

128

IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS

Mr. Henry Gladstone, Mr. George Eussell, and
Mr. Charles B. Toller, of Acton Bank, Hawarden. It
is provided in the Trust Deed that the Eector of
Hawarden, if a Trustee, shall be Chairman of the
body.

THE RECTORY, HAWAEDEN'.
Thus is will be seen that in this his munificent gift
Mr. Gladstone has acted on the same large-minded and
large-hearted principles to which he has adhered all
the days of his life. May he live to see St. Deiniol's
Library yield fruit a thousandfold !
Here is one little scene at the Library, which, at all
events to those who watched it, gives the institution a
separate and particular charm, apart from its own

129
attractions. The grey October afternoon lies on the
quiet village of Hawarden and on the hill, on which
the Library, the Hostel, and the Church stand close
together. The ivy-covered door in the churchyard wall
opens, and Mr. John Morley, together with Mrs. Drew,
walks towards the Library. Mr. Morley is on his way
back to Dublin, and, as usual, has broken his journey
to spend a few hours with the old chief. Presently a
carriage drives into the Library field, and before any of
the other occupants have had time to descend, a vigor
ous figure, wearing a thin autumn coat and soft felt
hat, is approaching the Library with eager step. It is
the G. 0. M., with face as ruddy from the crisp air as
an apple, and, with eagle-eyes, taking in everything
around. He walks erect, and looks in better health
than he has done for some years past.
Has^e promised to be specially photographed for
the Westminster account of the Library scheme ? Very
well, then it must be so. Stand here, at the door ?
Hat off or on ? Look at those yellow leaves ? And
there he st ands, hat in hand, motionless ; the Octoge
narian, to whom to be photographed is anything but a
pleasure, but who subjects his own wishes to those of
others. The keen wind touches his thin white hair,
and quietly he obeys the photographer's instructions —
not once, but several times — with only the request that
he may not be kept standing too long. Behind him,
Mrs. Gladstone Mrs. Wickham Mrs. Drew, and
K

130 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
]Mr. Morley are waiting in the libraiy, but there is one
member of the party whose patience gives way, and
who sees no reason why he should not be photographed
as well as ]\Ir. Gladstone. JMr. John Morley has put
away the wily photographer's suggestion that he also
should be photographed, with the smiling remark :
" Not the great and the small together. Let the great
be alone." But Petz, ]\Ir. Gladstone's black Pome
ranian, has no such scruples at all. His small muzzle
is between the chinks of the Libraiy door, and very
energetic he is in his growled protests that he wishes
to be outside beside the master whose constant and
faithful companion he has been for many years. Poor
old Petz ! His little black head is turning white, but
he is like his master in this, that though he is growing
old in years his spirit is undaunted, and to his energy
there are no bounds.
A moment after the photographer has released
Mr. Gladstone you look about in vain for the figure of
the G.O.M. The carriage is still Avaiting in the field;
Mrs. Gladstone and her two daughters, Mt. Morley
and Canon MacColl, are wandering about in the
Library— but Avhere is the Master? Look into that
window niche in the Divinity Eoom. There, in a
basket chair, with Petz at his feet, and Avith an
expression of perfect repose and peace about him, he
sits quite absorbed in a small volume he is readino-
He reads without glasses, apparently without any

ST. deiniol's library 131
difficulty. As a matter of fact, Mr. Gladstone's eyesight
is now quite restored. Both his eyes are perfectly
clear and bright, and thc only outward and visible
sign of the recent operation for cataract ou the one
eye is a thin white ring round the pupil. Since
Mr. Ncttleship, on his last visit to Hawarden, pro
nounced the cure complete, Mr. Gladstone's patience
has been somewhat severely tried by the host of
different glasses, which to save his eyes as much as
possible, he has been recommended to wear. There
are glasses for reading small type, and others for large
type ; glasses to look at objects in the room, and others
at objects at a distance. Sometimes Mr. Gladstone
forgets his eyes and spectacles altogether, as was thc
case when he was reading that afternoon in the Iron
Library ; but he is too obedient a patient not to carry
out every order of his medical attendant once the
reason of an edict has been explained to him.
If ]Mr. Gladstone were fifty years old instead of
eighty-six, the other eye — which, as generally happens
in case of senile cataract, is affected in the same way
as was the eye which has now recovered its normal
sight — would undergo the same operation.
After a while Mr. Gladstone's reading is inter
rupted. An interesting little group gathers round
him. Mrs. Gladstone, Mrs. Wickham, and Mrs. Drew,
in their unwearying efforts to save him from over
exertion of any kind are drawing his attention away
K 2

132 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
from his book; Mr. John Morley leans against the
bookcase, opposite the armchair, and engages his
late chief in conversation, and presently the whole
party, Petz well ahead, is making its way towards
the door. Truly, with that flash in his eyes, that
ruddy tinge on his cheeks, that dignified and at the
same time graceful courtesy to strangers, Mr. Gladstone
is a perfect type of a man of culture in his green
old age.
Outside a small crowd has gathered. They stand,
hats doffed, and bow their silent salutations to him.
" I've come all the way froni Ireland on the chance of
seeing Mr. Gladstone," explains an enthusiastic Paddy
over and over again, evidently in the hope that such
devotioji might possibly be rewarded with the high
honour of shaking hands with the Grand Old Man.
Mr. Gladstone's friends try to keep the Irishman off,
but, pulling his carroty locks, he steps at last boldly up
to the open carriage and gets his reward, Mr. Morley
sitting by and watching with his quiet smile the little
scene. And if you have heard much of the Old Man's
physical infirmities, you will laugh at those rumours
after you have felt his strong and heart}'' handshake,
and agree with the beaming Irishman, who, after the
carriage had left, tiirew his hat into the air and
sang out right lustily: "More power to him, bless
him ! He's more life in him than most men half
his age!"

ST. deiniol's library 133
When the day is declining, and before it gets
too dark for reading, Mr. Gladstone often leaves his
libraiy, taking his book with him, and sits on the
stone steps leading from the Castle library on to
the front lawn. There he catches the last rays of
the western light before he closes his book for the
day.

CHAPTEE X.
ST. deiniol's HOSTEL.
An Old " Grammar School " and its New Utilisation— The Object
of the Hostel — The Attractions of Hawarden — A Chance for
Poor Students — A Tea Party at the Hostel.
Standing outside St. Deiniol's Library door, and
looking straight ahead, you have before you an old
Avorld entrance to a country house. It is perfectly
simple, but picturesque. On one side a Avhite stone
Avail, Avitli ivy, and jessamine, and roses creeping all
over it, and further on, Avliere it joins the house,
smothering that also in the sweet greenery. A bank
of ferns and pinks and pansies runs along the Avail
and under the AvindoAvs of the Eostel. On the other
side of the drive leading to the Hostel, the laAvn,
bordered with rose bushes, now covered with flame-
coloured liaAvs, and Avith dwarf trees full of red-cheeked
apples, runs to the Ioav churchyard Avail, Avhich,
however, is hidden behind a thick wreath of shrubs.

ST. deiniol's hostel 137
In the background, overshadowed by old trees, is a
stone Avail, hidden under the ivy, and through a Gothic
door in it you go into the churchyard, and to the
Parish Church, St. Deiniol's, from Avhich the Hostel
and Library receive their names.
The Hostel itself, a square, two-storied brick house,
can boast of no architectural attractions. But it is
interesting, for all that, for it bears on its wall the
date 1606, and has for close upon three centuries
weathered many a storm. Up to quite recently, when
the Avorking of the Intermediate Education Act caused
their eviction, the studious youth of HaAvarden and
the surrounding district occupied the house, which still
locally goes by the name of the " Grammar School."
But the rooms of the main building have already been
couA'erted into sitting-rooms, studies, or bedrooms, for
those theologians or students who avail themselA'es of
the opportunity off'ered to them by Mr. Gladstone for
a quiet retreat among congenial books. The foUoAving
leaflet, drawn out by Mr. Gladstone shortly before
the Library Avas opened, is sufficient explanation of the
objects of the Libraiy and Hostel scheme. The leaflet,
we should add, was sent to such of Mr. Gladstone's
friends as are interested in the scheme : —
" Mr. Gladstone's Library. — St. Deiniol's Theolo
gical and General Librarv, close to HaAvarden Church —
soon to be put under a trust by Mr. Gladstone — opened

138

in the evening of his days

about January 25th, 1894, for the use of students (lay
and clerical, of any age), inquirers, authors, and clergy,
or others desiring times of rest. Twenty-five thousand
volumes already. A Hostel close by affords simple and

SI. DEINIOLS HOSTEL: THE COMMON EOOM.
comfortable board and lodging — about twenty-five
shillings weekly, or on special terms according to
accommodation. One of the parish clergy Avill reside
at the Hostel. HaAA^arden is high and healthy, com
mands good vicAvs, is ea,sily accessible from many
directions, and is on the main Avays to the Welsh

ST. deiniol's hostel

139

mountain scenery and watering places. Daily services
and constant celebrations of Holy Communion in the
Parish Church. Eesidence is invited either for a long
or short time. Hawarden Village is the centre of the

ST. DEINIOL S HOSTEL : THE DINING ROOM.

large Parish of Hawarden, and is reached as follows :
(1) Hawarden Station (five minutes off) on line between
Manchester (Cheshire Lines), the Northgate Station at
Chester, and Wrexham ; a direct line to Liverpool will
open shortly ; (2) Sandycroft or Queen's Ferry, on
Chester and Holyhead Eaihvay, about two miles ;

140 IN the evening of his days
(3) Broughton Hall, on Chester, Mole, and Denbigli
Eaihvay, about two and a half miles. A fly or sheet
carriage at Glynne Arms, HaAvarden. Apply at any
time, with references if necessary, to the Eev. the
Warden, St. Deiniol's Hostel, Hawarden, for further
information." We may here add that a fund has been started to
enable men to come at a loAver rate than twenty-five
shillings a Aveek, Avhere, as is often the case, they
cannot really afford it. Curates, for instance, are
usually extremely poor. Anyone Avho likes to sub
scribe to this fund ma}' feel that he is making good
use of his money. The most ancient part of the house
contains one lai'ge room, which, until recently, has
been the scene of the " grammar-boys' " educational
efforts. It is delightfully quaint, Avith its irregular
AvindoAvs, its heavy beams across the ceiling, and its
general old Avorld air. From one large Gothic AvindoAv
of this room, Avhich is to be the common room of the .
Hostel, you look into the churchyard, through the
network of trembling gold represented just now by
the foliage of a rowan tree. Narrow, winding stairs,
of solid black oak, slippery with age and Avorii out
by the feet of many generations, lead from this part
of the Hostel to some of the upper rooms. Altogether,
the Hostel, Avitli its nooks and corners, and cheer
ful, cosy rooms, seems just the right place for the

ST. deiniol's hostel 143
abode of men in search of rest and peace and serious
study. On a winter afternoon, not long ago, Ave Avere the
privileged guests at a tea party in the dining-room
of St. Deiniol's. The firelight played in the early
dusk over a very modern terra-cotta art paper, and
the conversation Avas modern enough, and included
such subjects as the latest of London stage plays (for
the original Taffy of du Maurier's " Trilby " lives close
by), the most sensational and realistic of new novels,
the music of the present and the future, etc., etc.
And the Warden of St. Deiniol's, Mr. Drew, Avho took
the head of the table, and Mrs. DrcAv dispensing tea at
the other end, and inmates and guests of the Hostel all
joined cheerfully in this essentially modern tea-table
talk. But through the sound of voices, and above the
clatter of cups and spoons, you seemed_. as twilight fell,
to hear Avhisperings manifold, and Avere haunted by
many a tale of times departed. For it is nearly three
hundred years since the oldest part of St. Deiniol's
Hostel Avas built, and the spirits of m.-iny generations
haunt the old reposeful place.

CHAPTEE XI.
MR. Gladstone's home-life.
His Country Clothes — Some Family Memorials — His Method of
Reading — His Memory — A Glimpse of the Dining-room
— Mr. Gladstone's Dietary— The BedrOom and its Pictures
Mr. Gladstone's Text.
Mr. Gladstone's home-life is characterised by its
extreme simplicity and regularity. Being absorbed
in great things does not mean, with him, a disregard
of little things such as is affected by many of the
would-be great. And althoiigh we cannot vouch for
the accuracy of the story which every country practi
tioner feels bound to tell his dyspeptic patients, and
according to Avhich Mr. Gladstone makes " thirty-tAvo
bites " of every mouthful of food he eats, he certainly
is careful to preserve his health and his working
power by every sensible precaution. The old Statesman,
with his fine, pale, gentle face, is an interesting figure

MR. GLADSTONE'S HOME-LIFE 145
as he walks lightly and briskly along the country road,
silently acknowledging the fervent salutations of his
friends the Hawarden villagers. He Avears a coat,,
well-buttoned up, a long shawl wrapped closely round
his neck, and a soft felt hat — a very different figure
from that of the Prime Minister as he used to be
knoAvn in London.
The Castle library, where Mr. Gladstone spends
most of his time, is by no means a show place. You
see at once that the books are frequently used, and
that while Homer and Virgil, and Horace and Dante,
have indeed their full share of attention, Maupassant
and Marion Crawford — to choose only two of the
innumerable array of, modern Avriters — are not for
gotten. Occasionally Mr. Gladstone hands over a
batch of some two hundred novels to his daughter,
Mrs. Drew, with the request to divide the sheep from
the goats among them. That is to say, all the books
are divided into, three classes— novels AA'orth keeping,
novels to be given away, and novels to be destroyed.
Quite recently a most interesting collection of MSS.
Avas heaped up on one of the tables in the library.
They AA'ere divided into small bundles, neatly tied up,
and carefully labelled in Mr. Gladstone's own liand-
Avriting. Here was a batch of " Confidential Letters
on the Irish Church;" there another of "Verses at
Eton, 1821 and after;" "Memorials of the Children,"
-family letters, etc., etc, There are several busts in
L

146 IN the EA'ENING OF HIS DAYS
the room, and on the mantelpiece stands a siilall
copy of Thorwaldsen's beautiful "Christ." Axes and
sticks, and perchance a frankly disreputable looking
umbrella, stand about in the comers; and across a
quaint earthenware bowl lies an illuminated text:
"Thy God hath sent forth strength for thee.'' The
Avails are covered with books, and A'olumes are also
massed on large shelves jutting out from the walls into
the room. Between each partition of books! there is
room to Avalk ; thus the saving of space 'in arranging
the library in this manner is enormous.
The members of Mr. Gladstone's family have .seen it
often, and for many years, but they have have not yet
groAvn tired of Avatching him Avlien, after an absence,
he returns home to Hawarden, aiid enters again his
beloved library. Nor can they, .speak without emotion
of that look of perfect happiness and peace that beams
from his eyes on such occasions. All the long morning
he spends in the silence of that corner-room on the
ground floor of Hawarden Castle. .
There is not a single room. at Hawarden where there
is not an abundance of books. They are everyAvhere,
and where other people have cosy corners, and /cabinets
of nicknacks you have cases and shelves of boolcs at
Hawarden. They have penetrated, not in single copies
or vellum-bound Mitions de. luxe, but in .serried, ranks
into all rooms. They help to furnish the bright
draAving-room, give an air of comfort to , the ante-

MR. GLADSTONE'S HOME-LIFE 147
room with its enormous cases of valuable china, and
are not absent CA'en from Mr. Gladstone's bedroom and
dressing-room. But in their thousands they are only
to be seen in that ideal library Avhere so many of his
-happiest days and years have been spent, ever since —
nearly sixty years ago— Mr. Gladstone came first to
Hawarden. Mr. Gladstone has usually three books in reading at
. the same time, and changes from one to the other when
his mind has . reached the limit of absorption. This is
a necessary corrective to the tendency to think only of
one thing at one time, which was the source of much of
his power, and of some weakness in politics. At one
time, he was so absorbed iu the Eastern Question that
.he could hardly be induced to spare a thought for
Ireland; later, it was just as difficult to get him to
think of , any political question but that .of Ireland.
He complains sometimes that his memory is no
, longer quite so good as it used to be ; but although this
may be, true, it is still twice as good as anybody else's,
. for Mr. Gladstone has an extraordinary faculty of not
only remembering those things ,he ought to remember,
but for forgetting .those things it is useless for him to
.remember. His mind is thus-, unencumbered with any
unnecessary top hamper, and he can ahvays, so to speak,
lay his hand upon anything the moment he wants it.
This retentive memory was no doubt : born with him,
but it has been largely developed by the constant habit

148 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
of taking pains. When he reads a book he does so
pencil in hand, marking off on the margin those passages
Avhich he wishes to remember, querying those about
which he is in doubt, and putting a cross opposite
those Avhich he disputes. At the end of the volume he
constructs a kind of index of his own, which enables
him to refer to those things he wishes to remember in
the book.
Luncheon at Hawarden is pleasantly unconventional.
The "lunch is on the hob" for several hours, to be
partaken of Avhen it suits the convenience of the
various members of the household. The dining-room
is one of the most cheerful and charming of all the
rooms on the ground floor. It has a large oriel window,
looking upon a quaint, old-world floAver garden, and
beyond this, through the trees, upon the ruins of
old Hawarden Castle. Over the mantel-piece hangs
a large oil painting of Mr. Gladstone as a young
man, and portraits of his httle granddaughter stand
below it. On the opposite Avail hangs a painting of
Mrs. Gladstone as a young and very beautiful girl,
T here are plants and flowers everywhere ; and near the
Avindow, adding to the air of homeliness, is a piano.
Mr. Gladstone is extremely simple in his tastes, and
cheerfully allows the daintiest of things good to eat
to pass by him, so long as his " outward conscience " —
embodied for many years, and until death, by his
friend and physician, the late Sir AndreAv Clark — puts

MR. Gladstone's home-life 149
his veto on them. But quite apart from medical orders,
he dislikes all rich and elaborate food. Light and
simple dishes, blunt, kind-hearted Sir Andrew pre
scribed peremptorily, and sat down to write a most
uninteresting dietary, every word and letter of which
Avas strictly ' obeyed without a mUrmiir. But though
abstemious in all things gastronomic, Mr. Gladstone is
not in any sense ascetic, but a believer in good cheer
and plenty of it, for those who may partake of it
without regret.
Mr. Gladstone's conversational gifts are enjoyed
by his own family circle exclusively as often as by
, his visitors. On quiet evenings, when there are ho
visitors at Hawarden, he is perfectly contented to chat
with his own friends, or sit quietly in his chair With a
book for his companion. Anti-tobacconists Avill be glad
to hear that he does not smoke, and never has smoked,
belonging to the older school, which acquired its habits
at a time when tobacco-smoking was regarded as some
what vulgar. Hence neither pipe, cigar, nor cigarette
is ever to be seen between his lips. Shortly after ten
Mr. Gladstone's day is over, and he retires, for, on prin
ciple, he never alloAVS himself to be cheated of sleep.
" In the most exciting political crisis," he said on one
occasion, " I dismiss current matters entirely from my
mind when I go to bed, and will not think of them till
I get Up in the morning. I told Bright this, and he
said: 'That's all very well for you, but my way is

15.0 IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS
exactly the reverse. I think over all my speeches in
bed.'" Seven hours' sleep is Mr. Gladstone's fixed
allowance, " and," he added, with a smile, " I should
like to have eight. I hate getting up in the morning,
and hate it the same every morning. But one can do
everything by habit, and when I have had my seven
hours' sleep my habit is to get up." Mr. Gladstone's
bedroom is on the first floor, which is reached by a fine
staircase. It is a moderate-sized room, with two win
dows looking upon the turf, the bracken, and the
winding paths of the grounds. The room is connected
Avith Mr. Gladstone's dressing-room, which, for perfect
simplicity, may be classed Avith the famous unpreten
tious rooms of other Grand Old Men. In the bedroom
likeAvise, everything is perfectly simple and homely.
On either side of the old-fashioned double bed the
walls are covered with photographs of all sizes of
Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone's children, and on the dressing-
table, beside a smaller photograph of Mrs. Gladstone,
' a large portrait of Mr. John Morley has its place of
honour. In front of it is an illuminated text: "Thou wilt
keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on
Thee." On that text every chapter of this book,
describing Mr. Gladstone in the Evening of His
Days, is a commentary.

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