[Illustration:  Photograph from Underwood & Underwood, N.Y.

WILLIAM E. GLADSTONE]

The politician who figures publicly as “reader of the lesson” on Sundays, is apt to be regarded suspiciously.  I confess that until I had known Mr. Gladstone well, I had found the thought arising now and then that the wary old gentleman might feel at least that these appearances cost him no votes.  But all this vanished as I learned his true character.  He was devout and sincere if ever man was.  Yes, even when he records in his diary (referred to by Morley in his “Life of Gladstone”) that, while addressing the House of Commons on the budget for several hours with great acceptance, he was “conscious of being sustained by the Divine Power above.”  Try as one may, who can deny that to one of such abounding faith this belief in the support of the Unknown Power must really have proved a sustaining influence, although it may shock others to think that any mortal being could be so bold as to imagine that the Creator of the Universe would concern himself about Mr. Gladstone’s budget, prepared for a little speck of this little speck of earth?  It seems almost sacrilegious, yet to Mr. Gladstone we know it was the reverse—­a religious belief such as has no doubt often enabled men to accomplish wonders as direct agents of God and doing His work.

On the night of the Queen’s Jubilee in June, 1887, Mr. Blaine and I were to dine at Lord Wolverton’s in Piccadilly, to meet Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone—­Mr. Blaine’s first introduction to him.  We started in a cab from the Metropole Hotel in good time, but the crowds were so dense that the cab had to be abandoned in the middle of St. James’s Street.  Reaching the pavement, Mr. Blaine following, I found a policeman and explained to him who my companion was, where we were going, and asked him if he could not undertake to get us there.  He did so, pushing his way through the masses with all the authority of his office and we followed.  But it was nine o’clock before we reached Lord Wolverton’s.  We separated after eleven.

Mr. Gladstone explained that he and Mrs. Gladstone had been able to reach the house by coming through Hyde Park and around the back way.  They expected to get back to their residence, then in Carlton Terrace, in the same way.  Mr. Blaine and I thought we should enjoy the streets and take our chances of getting back to the hotel by pushing through the crowds.  We were doing this successfully and were moving slowly with the current past the Reform Club when I heard a word or two spoken by a voice close to the building on my right.  I said to Mr. Blaine: 

“That is Mr. Gladstone’s voice.”

He said:  “It is impossible.  We have just left him returning to his residence.”

“I don’t care; I recognize voices better than faces, and I am sure that is Gladstone’s.”

Finally I prevailed upon him to return a few steps.  We got close to the side of the house and moved back.  I came to a muffled figure and whispered: