“What does ‘Gravity’ out of its bed at midnight?”

Mr. Gladstone was discovered.  I told him I recognized his voice whispering to his companion.

“And so,” I said, “the real ruler comes out to see the illuminations prepared for the nominal ruler!”

He replied:  “Young man, I think it is time you were in bed.”

We remained a few minutes with him, he being careful not to remove from his head and face the cloak that covered them.  It was then past midnight and he was eighty, but, boylike, after he got Mrs. Gladstone safely home he had determined to see the show.

The conversation at the dinner between Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Blaine turned upon the differences in Parliamentary procedure between Britain and America.  During the evening Mr. Gladstone cross-examined Mr. Blaine very thoroughly upon the mode of procedure of the House of Representatives of which Mr. Blaine had been the Speaker.  I saw the “previous question,” and summary rules with us for restricting needless debate made a deep impression upon Mr. Gladstone.  At intervals the conversation took a wider range.

Mr. Gladstone was interested in more subjects than perhaps any other man in Britain.  When I was last with him in Scotland, at Mr. Armistead’s, his mind was as clear and vigorous as ever, his interest in affairs equally strong.  The topic which then interested him most, and about which he plied me with questions, was the tall steel buildings in our country, of which he had been reading.  What puzzled him was how it could be that the masonry of a fifth floor or sixth story was often finished before the third or fourth.  This I explained, much to his satisfaction.  In getting to the bottom of things he was indefatigable.

Mr. Morley (although a lord he still remains as an author plain John Morley) became one of our British friends quite early as editor of the “Fortnightly Review,” which published my first contribution to a British periodical.[67] The friendship has widened and deepened in our old age until we mutually confess we are very close friends to each other.[68] We usually exchange short notes (sometimes long ones) on Sunday afternoons as the spirit moves us.  We are not alike; far from it.  We are drawn together because opposites are mutually beneficial to each other.  I am optimistic; all my ducks being swans.  He is pessimistic, looking out soberly, even darkly, upon the real dangers ahead, and sometimes imagining vain things.  He is inclined to see “an officer in every bush.”  The world seems bright to me, and earth is often a real heaven—­so happy I am and so thankful to the kind fates.  Morley is seldom if ever wild about anything; his judgment is always deliberate and his eyes are ever seeing the spots on the sun.

[Footnote 67:  An American Four-in-Hand in Britain.]