his unquenchable faith, not in himself--tho that with
experience must have waxed strong--not in himself but in his cause,
sustained him among the necessary shifts and transactions of the moment,
and kept his head high in the heavens.

Such faith, such moral conviction, is not given to all men, for the
treasures of his nature were in ingots, and not in dust. But there is,
perhaps, no man without some faith in some cause or some person; if so,
let him take heart, in however small a minority he may be, by
remembering how mighty a strength was Gladstone's power of faith.

His next great force lay in his industry. I do not know if the
aspersions of "ca' canny" be founded, but at any rate there was no "ca'
canny" about him. From his earliest school-days, if tradition be true,
to the bed of death, he gave his full time and energy to work. No doubt
his capacity for labor was unusual. He would sit up all night writing a
pamphlet, and work next day as usual. An eight-hours' day would have
been a holiday to him, for he preached and practised the gospel of work
to its fullest extent. He did not, indeed, disdain pleasure; no one
enjoyed physical exercise, or a good play, or a pleasant dinner, more
than he; he drank in deep draughts of the highest and the best that life
had to offer; but even in pastime he was never idle. He did not know
what it was to saunter, he debited himself with every minute of his
time; he combined with the highest intellectual powers the faculty of
utilizing them to the fullest extent by intense application. Moreover,
his industry was prodigious in result, for he was an extraordinarily
rapid worker. Dumont says of Mirabeau, that till he met that marvelous
man he had no idea of how much could be achieved in a day. "Had I not
lived with him," he says, "I should not know what can be accomplished in
a day, all that can be comprest into an interval of twelve hours. A day
was worth more to him than a week or a month to others." Many men can be
busy for hours with a mighty small product, but with Mr. Gladstone
every minute was fruitful. That, no doubt, was largely due to his
marvelous powers of concentration. When he was staying at Dalmeny in
1879 he kindly consented to sit for his bust. The only difficulty was
that there was no time for sittings. So the sculptor with his clay model
was placed opposite Mr. Gladstone as he worked, and they spent the
mornings together, Mr. Gladstone writing away, and the clay figure