ates as of England; a man indeed who would have preferred to
call himself a citizen of the world. But in England he was born and
bred and began his career; under the Union Jack he died, and he may
rightly be classed as an English historian. My acquaintance with
Goldwin Smith began a quarter of a century back, in the interchange
of notes and books. I was interested in the same fields which he had
illustrated. I looked upon him as more than any other writer, perhaps,
my master. I was in love with his spirit from the first and thought
that no other man had considered so well topics connected with the
unity of English-speaking men in a broad bond of brotherhood. I did
not set eyes on him until 1903, being for that year President of the
American Library Association which was to meet at Niagara Falls. I
invited Goldwin Smith to give the principal address. The librarians of
Canada, as well as the United States, were to assemble on the frontier
between the two countries, and it seemed desirable that a man standing
under two flags should be spokesman and this character fitted Goldwin
Smith precisely. But that year he became eighty years old. In the
spring he was ill and did not dare to undertake in June an elaborate
address. When we assembled at Niagara Falls, however, I found him
there. He had come from Toronto to show his good-will and he spoke
several times in our meetings; deliverances which, while neither long
nor formal, were well worth hearing. He was a stately presence, tall,
slender, and erect even at eighty, with a commanding face and head
which had every trait of dignity. I had several opportunities for
private talk and it appeared that his natural force was by no means
abated. It would no doubt be more just to class him as a critic in
politics, literature, and philosophy rather than an historian, but in
the latter capacity, too, his service was great. His talk was fluent,
incisive, and put forward without reference to what might be the
prejudices or indeed the well-based principles of his listeners. He
lashed bitterly the Congress of the United States for refusing through
fear of Irish disapproval to do honour to John Bright. His tongue
was a sword and cut sharply, and while he won respect always, often
excited opposition and sometimes hatred. Napoleon in particular was a
_bete noire_, to whom he denied even the possession of military
genius. His courage was serene and he was quite indifferent as to
whether he were hi