On the same day that we made this quiet visit we attended a great and ceremonious assembly.  There were two parts in the programme, in the first of which I was on the stage solus,—­that is, without my companion; in the second we were together.  This day, Saturday, the 29th of May, was observed as the Queen’s birthday, although she was born on the 24th.  Sir William Harcourt gave a great dinner to the officials of his department, and later in the evening Lady Rosebery held a reception at the Foreign Office.  On both these occasions everybody is expected to be in court dress, but my host told me I might present myself in ordinary evening dress.  I thought that I might feel awkwardly among so many guests, all in the wedding garments, knee-breeches and the rest, without which I ventured among them.  I never passed an easier evening in any company than among these official personages.  Sir William took me under the shield of his ample presence, and answered all my questions about the various notable personages at his table in a way to have made my fortune if I had been a reporter.  From the dinner I went to Mrs. Gladstone’s, at 10 Downing Street, where A——­ called for me.  She had found a very small and distinguished company there, Prince Albert Victor among the rest.  At half past eleven we walked over to the Foreign Office to Lady Rosebery’s reception.

Here Mr. Gladstone was of course the centre of a group, to which I was glad to add myself.  His features are almost as familiar to me as my own, for a photograph of him in his library has long stood on my revolving bookcase, with a large lens before it.  He is one of a small circle of individuals in whom I have had and still have a special personal interest.  The year 1809, which introduced me to atmospheric existence, was the birth-year of Gladstone, Tennyson, Lord Houghton, and Darwin.  It seems like an honor to have come into the world in such company, but it is more likely to promote humility than vanity in a common mortal to find himself coeval with such illustrious personages.  Men born in the same year watch each other, especially as the sands of life begin to run low, as we can imagine so many damaged hour-glasses to keep an eye on each other.  Women, of course, never know who are their contemporaries.

Familiar to me as were the features of Mr. Gladstone, I looked upon him with astonishment.  For he stood before me with epaulets on his shoulders and a rapier at his side, as military in his aspect as if he had been Lord Wolseley, to whom I was introduced a short time afterwards.  I was fortunate enough to see and hear Mr. Gladstone on a still more memorable occasion, and can afford to leave saying what were my impressions of the very eminent statesman until I speak of that occasion.