The Last Time I Met Mr.
Gladstone There The Duke Of Devonshire And Sir W. Harcourt
Were Both Present.
I once dined with Mrs. Thistlethwayte in
the absence of her husband, when the only others were Munro
of Novar - the friend of Turner, and the envied possessor of
a splendid gallery of his pictures - and the Duke of
Newcastle - then a Cabinet Minister.
Such were the
notabilities whom the famous beauty gathered about her.
But it is of Mr. Gladstone that I would say a word. The
fascination which he exercised over most of those who came
into contact with him is incontestable; and everyone is
entitled to his own opinion, even though unable to account
for it. This, at least, must be my plea, for to me, Mr.
Gladstone was more or less a Dr. Fell. Neither in his public
nor in his private capacity had I any liking for him. Nobody
cares a button for what a 'man in the street' like me says or
thinks on subject matters upon which they have made up their
minds. I should not venture, even as one of the crowd, to
deprecate a popularity which I believe to be fast passing
away, were it not that better judges and wiser men think as I
do, and have represented opinions which I sincerely share.
'He was born,' says Huxley, 'to be a leader of men, and he
has debased himself to be a follower of the masses. If
working men were to-day to vote by a majority that two and
two made five, to-morrow Gladstone would believe it, and find
them reasons for it which they had never dreamt of.' Could
any words be truer?
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