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 of himself less than a yard off gradually assuming shape and form.  Anything more distracting I can not conceive, but it had no effect on the busy patient.  And now let me make a short digression.  I saw recently in your newspapers that there was some complaint of the manners of the rising generation in Glasgow.  If that be so, they are heedless of Mr. Gladstone’s example.  It might be thought that so impetuous a temper as his might be occasionally rough or abrupt.  That was not so.  His exquisite urbanity was one of his most conspicuous graces.  I do not now only allude to that grave, old-world courtesy, which gave so much distinction to his private life; for his sweetness of manner went far beyond demeanor.  His spoken words, his letters, even when one differed from him most acutely, were all marked by this special note.  He did not like people to disagree with him, few people do; but, so far as manner went, it was more pleasant to disagree with Mr. Gladstone than to be in agreement with some others.

Lastly, I come to his courage—­that perhaps was his greatest quality, for when he gave his heart and reason to a cause, he never counted the cost.  Most men are physically brave, and this nation is reputed to be especially brave, but Mr. Gladstone was brave among the brave.  He had to the end the vitality of physical courage.  When well on in his ninth decade, well on to ninety, he was knocked over by a cab, and before the bystanders could rally to his assistance, he had pursued the cab with a view to taking its number.  He had, too, notoriously, political courage in a not less degree than Sir Robert Walpole.  We read that George II, who was little given to enthusiasm, would often cry out, with color flushing into his cheeks, and tears sometimes in his eyes, and with a vehement oath:—­“He (Walpole) is a brave fellow; he has more spirit than any man I ever knew.”