the world supposed that his public career was ended. I
called at his house in Whitehall Terrace, and the servant informed me at
the door that the physicians had forbidden Mr. Gladstone to see any one.
I handed in my card, and said to the servant: "I leave for America
to-morrow, and only called to say good-bye to Mr. Gladstone." He
overheard my voice (not one of the feeblest), and, coming out into the
hall, greeted me most warmly, but in a voice almost inaudible from
hoarseness. I told him: "Do not attempt to speak, Mr. Gladstone; the
future of the British Empire depends upon your throat." He hoarsely
whispered, "No, no, my friend, it does not," and with a very hearty
handshake we parted. My prediction came true. Within a year the
marvelous old man had recovered his voice, recovered his popularity,
resumed the Liberal leadership, and for the fourth time was Prime
Minister of Great Britain.

I supposed that I should never see the veteran statesman again, but four
years afterward, in July, 1889, he kindly invited me to come and see
him, and to bring my wife. It was the week before the celebration of his
golden wedding. He was occupying, temporarily, a house near Buckingham
Palace. Mrs. Gladstone, the good angel of his long life and happy home,
received us warmly, and, bringing out a lot of photographs of her
children and grandchildren, gave us a family talk. When her husband came
in, I was startled to observe how much thinner he had become and how
loosely his clothes hung upon him. But as soon as he began to talk, the
old fire flamed up, and he discoursed eloquently about Irish Home-Rule,
the divorce question, (one of his hobbies), and the dangers that
threatened America from plutocracy and laxity of wedlock, and the
facilities of divorce that sap the sanctities of domestic life. It was
during that conversation that Gladstone tittered the sentence that I
have often had occasion to quote. He said: "Amid all the pressure of
public cares and duties, I thank God for the Sabbath _with its rest for
the body and the soul_." One reason for his wonderful longevity was that
he had never robbed his brain of the benefits of God's appointed day of
rest. After our delightful talk was ended, the Grand Old Man went off in
pursuit of an imperial photograph, which he kindly signed with his
autograph, and gave to my wife, and it now graces the walls of the room
in which I am writing.

Many men have been great in some direction: William Ewar