Eminent English liberals in and out of Parliament. John Morrison Davidson

could bestow; and, unlike most other scholars who subsequently become politicians and men of the world, he has never ceased to add to the immense store of his academic acquirements. He has published Latin sacred verses not appreciably inferior in grace to those of Buchanan and Milton; and as a Homeric student his "Studies of Homer and the Homeric Age" entitle him to no mean place among scholarly critics.

      Unfortunately, however, for him, the sciences of observation—chemistry, botany, geology, natural history, and the like—were in his day almost wholly neglected at Oxford; and in place thereof an incredible mind-distorting theology was in vogue, from the evil consequences of which the Premier has not yet been able altogether to emancipate himself. It has laid him open to many false charges, and to some true ones. It made him for years a defender of the utterly indefensible Irish Establishment; and, when at last "the slow and resistless force of conviction" brought him to a better frame of mind, the change was attributed by thousands who ought to have known better to a concealed conversion to Romanism. In vain has he striven in pamphlet and periodical to rebut the allegation, and to make intelligible to the English people his theological stand-point. Newman, Manning, Capel—the most redoubtable champions of Roman Catholicism in England—he has met foot to foot and hand to hand on their own ground, and foiled with their own weapons. He has proved, with amazing learning and ingenuity, worthy of the schoolmen, that the Papacy has at last succeeded in "repudiating both science and history," and that his Holiness himself is next door to Antichrist. ​He, a simple layman, has demonstrated that he is one of the greatest theologians of the age. Still, much as I admire learning in every department of human intelligence, I must confess that I should have liked Mr. Gladstone better had he been more of a Gallio in such matters. One would almost as soon see a noble intellect like his exercising itself about the exploded theories of the astrologists or alchemists, as about the decisions of church councils, early or late.

      His personal religion is, however, altogether another matter. It is the chief source of his overpowering sense of duty, of his righteous indignation, of his tender humanity. He is as much a Christian statesman as Pym, Sir Harry Vane, or Oliver Cromwell. His unaffected piety has opened up to him the hearts of his Nonconformist fellow-countrymen as nothing else could have done. Where he is best known he is most esteemed; viz., at his seat of Hawarden—a fine property bought by his wife's ancestor. Sergeant Glynne, chief justice to Oliver Cromwell, on the sequestration of the Stanley estates, after the execution of James, the seventh Earl of Derby. Every morning by eight o'clock Mr. Gladstone may be seen wending his way to the village church of Hawarden to engage in matins as a prelude to the work of the day. Even when Prime Minister of England, he has been found in the humblest homes reading to the sick or dying consolatory passages of Scripture in his own soft melodious tones.

      The best controller of the national exchequer that the country has ever had, his personal charities are almost reckless. In the course of his long walks in the neighborhood of Hawarden, his pockets have an astonishing knack of emptying themselves; and ​amusing stories are told of his having had to walk home inconvenient distances of ten and twelve miles in the dark because of his inability to raise so much as a third-class railway fare. As Prime Minister he refused an increase of salary; and when he quitted office he was so impoverished, that his famous collection of china is said to have been sold in consequence.

      All his known habits and recreations are of the most innocent and healthy kind. He has nothing either of the jockey or the gamekeeper in his composition—a fact which may account for a good deal of the antipathy exhibited towards him by the enlightened squirearchy of England. Yet Mr. Gladstone has none of the "lean and hungry look" of a Cassius. He is not a total abstainer; but he is next door. His is pre-eminently a mens sana in corpore sano. As is well known, he is one of the most stalworth tree-fellers in England. His skill with his axe would not disgrace a Canadian backwoodsman; and he has curious taste in carving and potter}', which is almost scientific.

      Never was there a public man whose private "record" has been more blameless. In his zeal for domestic purity, he has not hesitated to rebuke the "conjugal infidelity" which, since the death of the Prince Consort, has developed itself in close proximity to the throne. In a word, he is a Christian statesman, with all the advantages and disadvantages which adhere to that character.

      Let me now say a word of his renown as an orator. As a speaker I should be disposed to place him midway between Bright at his best and Beaconsfield at any time. For moral earnestness Mr. Bright is not his inferior; and in the command of pathos, humor, ​clear-cut thoughts, and chaste, limpid English, he is undoubtedly his superior. On the other hand, in versatility, in capacity for receiving new ideas, and of marshalling multitudinous details, Mr. Gladstone has no living equal. He is the orator of affairs. He has done what no one has ever done before him—made budgets eloquent, and figures to possess a lofty moral significance.

      Lord Beaconsfield unquestionably possesses in an eminent degree some of the first requisites of oratory. He is more witty, more ornate, and more audacious than Mr. Gladstone; but all is spoiled by levity, hopeless inaccuracy, and, I fear, essential insincerity. "Can there be," Mr. Carlyle has asked, "a more horrid object in creation than an eloquent man not speaking the truth?" Was it "the cool, conscious juggler," the "miraculous Premier" of yesterday, that the Prophet of Chelsea had in his mind's eye when, years ago, I heard him put this important interrogatory on the occasion of his rectorial address to the students of Edinburgh University? Again, I fear, yes.

      Mr. Gladstone's oratory is marred by excessive copiousness of diction; yet there is a charm in this rare defect. He plunges right into a sea of words, from which there seems no possible extrication; and, when he emerges safe and sound, his hearers feel like those who, "in the brave days of old," beheld Horatius "plunge headlong in the tide:"—

      "And when above the surges

       They saw his crest appear,

       All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry;

       And even the ranks of Tuscany

       Could scarce forbear to cheer."

      ​Mr. Gladstone's Conduct as a parliamentary leader has been severely censured by professed Liberals, and his resolution to dissolve Parliament in 1874 has been specially instanced as a proof of strategic unwisdom. I distinctly demur both to indictment and proof. Those who say that he is not a good leader are not "in earnest," and such men can never be expected to follow Mr. Gladstone with much comfort to themselves. He is the natural leader of the Advanced Liberals in the House. The Brights, Dilkes, Chamberlains, Taylors, and Courtneys find no difficulty in following his lead. As for the dissolution of 1874, so much complained of, no Liberal Minister professing to govern, as every Liberal Minister is supposed to do, in accordance with the will of the people, could, in the face of the adverse by-elections which had taken place, honestly refrain from directly appealing to the constituent authority. Indeed, the pity is, it seems to me, that the appeal was not made sooner. If that had been done, all might have been well. The Conservative re-action, which gave birth to Jingo and so many sorrows, might have been nipped in the bud.

      It remains to notice in very brief compass a few of the more important events in the Premier's public life, giving preference to the more remote. In 1832 he was returned for Newark in the Conservative interest, and in 1834 Sir Robert Peel made him a Junior Lord of the Treasury. In 1835 he found himself Under-Secretary for the Colonies. Shortly after, Sir Robert's administration fell; and Mr. Gladstone, in the cool shade of opposition, found leisure to write his oft-quoted works, "The State in its Relations with the Church," and ​"Church Principles considered in their Results." Lord Macaulay, in "The Edinburgh Review," thus spoke the judgment of posterity: "We dissent from his opinions; but we admire his talents. We respect his integrity and benevolence, and we hope that he will not suffer political avocations so entirely to engross him as to leave him no leisure for literature and philosophy."

      In those days Mr. Gladstone held the untenable doctrine that it is the business of the State to uphold "the true religion." He ardently strove to find for the State Church a moral basis and justification which it can never have. In so doing he was "in earnest," but oblivious of the wisdom of One who understood the genius of Christianity better than himself: "My kingdom is not of this world." Since then "the slow and resistless force of conviction" has come to his aid. In 1841 Sir Robert Peel came back to office, and Mr. Gladstone was