About this time having to go to Ireland, on my way back I stopped at Hawarden, and the following note gives a glimpse of Mr. Gladstone at this evil moment (Dec. 17):-

I found him in his old corner in the "temple of peace." He was only half recovered from a bad cold, and looked in his worsted jacket, and dark tippet over his shoulders, and with his white, deep-furrowed face, like some strange Ancient of Days: so different from the man whom I had seen off at King's Cross less than a week before. He was cordial as always, but evidently in some perturbation. I sat down and told him what I had heard from different quarters about the approaching Kilkenny election. I mentioned X. as a Parnellite authority. "What," he flamed up with pa.s.sionate vehemence, "X. a Parnellite! Are they mad, then? Are they clean demented?" etc. etc.

I gave him my general impression as to the future. The bare idea that Parnell might find no inconsiderable following came upon him as if it had been a thunder-clap. He listened, and catechised, and knit his brow.

_Mr. G._-What do you think we should do in case (1) of a divided Ireland, (2) of a Parnellite Ireland?

_J. M._-It is too soon to settle what to think. But, looking to Irish interests, I think a Parnellite Ireland infinitely better than a divided Ireland. Anything better than an Ireland divided, so far as she is concerned.

_Mr. G._-Ba.s.setlaw looks as if we were going back to 1886. For me that is notice to quit. Another five years' agitation at my age would be impossible-_ludicrous_ (with much emphasis).

_J. M._-I cannot profess to be surprised that in face of these precious dissensions men should have misgivings, or that even those who were with us, should now make up their minds to wait a little.

I said what there was to be said for Parnell's point of view; that, in his words to me of Nov. 25, he "must look to the future"; that he was only five and forty; that he might well fear that factions would spring up in Ireland if he were to go; that he might have made up his mind, that whether he went or stayed, we should lose the general election when it came. The last notion seemed quite outrageous to Mr. G., and he could not suppose that it had ever entered Parnell's head.

_Mr. G._-You have no regrets at the course we took?

_J. M._-None-none. It was inevitable. I have never doubted. That does not prevent lamentation that it was inevitable. It is the old story. English interference is always at the root of mischief in Ireland. But how could we help what we did? We had a right to count on Parnell's sanity and his sincerity....

Mr. G. then got up and fished out of a drawer the memorandum of his talk with Parnell at Hawarden on Dec. 18, 1889, and also a memorandum written for his own use on the general political position at the time of the divorce trial. The former contained not a word as to the constabulary, and in other matters only put a number of points, alternative courses, etc., without a single final or definite decision. While he was fishing in his drawer, he said, as if speaking to himself, "It looks as if I should get my release even sooner than I had expected."

"That," I said, "is a momentous matter which will need immense deliberation." So it will, indeed.

_Mr. G._-Do you recall anything in history like the present distracted scenes in Ireland?

_J. M._-Florence, Pisa, or some other Italian city, with the French or the Emperor at the gates?

_Mr. G._-I'll tell you what is the only thing that I can think of as at all like it. Do you remember how it was at the siege of Jerusalem-the internecine fury of the Jewish factions, the ????ta?, and the rest-while t.i.tus and the legions were marching on the city!

We went in to luncheon. Something was said of our friend --, and the new found malady, Renault's disease.

_J. M._-Joseph de Maistre says that in the innocent primitive ages men died of diseases without names.

_Mr. G._-Homer never mentions diseases at all.

_J. M._-Not many of them die a natural death in Homer.

_Mr. G._-Do you not recollect where Odysseus meets his mother among the shades, and she says:-

??te t?? ??? ?? ???s?? ?p????e? ...

???? e s?? te p???? s? te ?dea, fa?d?? ?d?sse?, s? t? ??a??f??s??? e???d?a ???? ?p???a.(279)

_J. M._-Beautiful lines. ????? such a tender word, and it is untranslatable.

_Mr. G._-Oh, _desiderium_.

"Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus Tam cari capitis."(280)

_J. M._-The Scotch word "_wearying_" for somebody. And _Sehnsucht_.

Then Mr. G. went off to his library to hunt up the reference, and when I followed him, I found the worn old _Odyssey_ open at the pa.s.sage in the eleventh book. As he left the room, he looked at me and said, "Ah, this is very different stuff for talking about, from all the wretched work we were speaking of just now. Homer's fellows would have cut a very different figure, and made short work in that committee room last week!" We had a few more words on politics.... So I bade him good-bye.... #/

(M160) In view of the horrors of dissension in Ireland, well-meaning attempts were made at the beginning of the year to bring about an understanding. The Irish members, returning from America where the schism at home had quenched all enthusiasm and killed their operations, made their way to Boulogne, for the two most important among them were liable to instant arrest if they were found in the United Kingdom. They thought that Mr. Parnell was really desirous to withdraw on such terms as would save his self-respect, and if he could plead hereafter that before giving way he had secured a genuine scheme of home rule. Some suspicion may well have arisen in their minds when a strange suggestion came from Mr. Parnell that the liberal leaders should enter into a secret engagement about constabulary and the other points. He had hardly given such happy evidence of his measure of the sanct.i.ty of political confidences, as to encourage further experiments. The proposal was absurd on the face of it. These suspicions soon became certainties, and the Boulogne negotiations came to an end. I should conjecture that those days made the severest ordeal through which Mr. Gladstone, with his extreme sensibility and his abhorrence of personal contention, ever pa.s.sed. Yet his facility and versatility of mood was unimpaired, as a casual note or two of mine may show:-

... Mr. G.'s confabulation [with an Irish member] proved to have been sought for the purpose of warning him that Parnell was about to issue a manifesto in which he would make all manner of mischief. Mr. G. and I had a few moments in the room at the back of the chair; he seemed considerably perturbed, pale, and concentrated. We walked into the House together; he picked up the points of the matter in hand (a motion for appropriating all the time) and made one of the gayest, brightest, and most delightful speeches in the world-the whole House enjoying it consumedly. Who else could perform these magic transitions?

Mr. G. came into the House, looking rather anxious; gave us an account of his interview with the Irish deputation; and in the midst of it got up to say his few sentences of condolence with the Speaker on the death of Mrs. Peel-the closing phrases admirably chosen, and the tones of his voice grave, sincere, sonorous, and compa.s.sionate. When he sat down, he resumed his talk with H. and me. He was so touched, he said, by those "poor wretches" on the deputation, that he would fain, if he could, make some announcement that would ease their unlucky position.

[A question of a letter in reply to some application prompted by Mr. Parnell. Mr. Gladstone asked two of us to try our hands at a draft.] At last we got it ready for him and presently we went to his room. It was now six o'clock. Mr. G. read aloud in full deep voice the letter he had prepared on the base of our short draft.

We suggested this and that, and generally argued about phrases for an hour, winding up with a terrific battle on two prodigious points: (1) whether he ought to say, "after this statement of my views," or "I have now fully stated my views on the points you raise"; (2) "You will _doubtless_ concur," or "_probably_ concur."

Most characteristic, most amazing. It was past seven before the veteran would let go-and then I must say that he looked his full years. Think what his day had been, in mere intellectual strain, apart from what strains him far more than that-his strife with persons and his compa.s.sion for the unlucky Irishmen. I heard afterwards that when he got home, he was for once in his life done up, and on the following morning he lay in bed. All the same, in the evening he went to see _Antony and Cleopatra_, and he had a little ovation. As he drove away the crowd cheered him with cries of "Bravo, don't you mind Parnell!" Plenty of race feeling left, in spite of union of hearts!

No leader ever set a finer example under reverse than did Mr. Gladstone during these tedious and desperate proceedings. He was steadfastly loyal, considerate, and sympathetic towards the Irishmen who had trusted him; his firm patience was not for a moment worn out; in vain a boisterous wave now and again beat upon him from one quarter or another. Not for a moment was he shaken; even under these starless skies his faith never drooped. "The public mischief," he wrote to Lord Acton (Dec. 27, 1890), "ought to put out of view every private thought. But the blow to me is very heavy-the heaviest I ever have received. It is a great and high call to work by faith and not by sight."

Occasion had already offered for testing the feeling of Ireland. There was a vacancy in the representation of Kilkenny, and the Parnellite candidate had been defeated.

_To J. Morley._

_Hawarden, Dec. 23, 1890._-Since your letter arrived this morning, the Kilkenny poll has brightened the sky. It will have a great effect in Ireland, although it is said not to be a representative const.i.tuency, but one too much for us. It is a great gain; and yet sad enough to think that even here one-third of the voters should be either rogues or fools. I suppose the ballot has largely contributed to save Kilkenny. It will be most interesting to learn how the tories voted.

I return your enclosure.... I have ventured, without asking your leave, on keeping a copy of a part. Only in one proposition do I differ from you. I would rather see Ireland disunited than see it Parnellite.

I think that as the atmosphere is quiet for the moment we had better give ourselves the benefit of a little further time for reflection. Personally, I am hard hit. My course of life was daring enough as matters stood six weeks ago. How it will shape in the new situation I cannot tell. But this is the selfish part.

Turning for a moment to the larger outlook, I am extremely indisposed to any harking back in the matter of home rule; we are now, I think, freed from the enormous danger of seeing P. master in Ireland; division and its consequences in diminishing force, are the worst we have to fear. What my mind leans to in a way still vague is to rally ourselves by some affirmative legislation taken up by and on behalf of the party. Something of this kind would be the best source to look to for reparative strength.

_To Lord Acton._

_Jan. 9, 1891._-To a greybeard in a hard winter the very name of the south is musical, and the kind letters from you and Lord Hampden make it harmony as well as melody. But I have been and am chained to the spot by this Parnell business, and every day have to consider in one shape or other what ought to be said by myself or others.... I consider the Parnell chapter of politics finally closed for us, the British liberals, at least during my time. He has been even worse since the divorce court than he was in it. The most astounding revelation of my lifetime.

_To J. Morley._

_Hawarden, Dec. 30, 1890._-I must not longer delay thanking you for your most kind and much valued letter on my birthday-a birthday more formidable than usual, on account of the recent disasters, which, however, may all come to good. If I am able to effect in the world anything useful, be a.s.sured I know how much of it is owed to the counsel and consort of my friends.

It is not indeed the common lot of man to make serious additions to the friendships which so greatly help us in this pilgrimage, after seventy-six years old; but I rejoice to think that in your case it has been accomplished for me.

VIII