CHAPTER IV MR. GLADSTONE

His Last Utterance—His Fearlessness—His Opinion of Russia and England—Cardinal Manning's Tribute—Gladstone and the Old Catholics—The Question of Immortality—Mr. Gladstone's Remarkable Letter—A Delightful Listener—His Power of Concentration—Hayward and Gladstone—Their Discussion—Miss Helen Gladstone—We Talk Gladstone—The Old Lady's Delight—I Miss My Train


Somebody once compared life to an education that can never be completed—and indeed, the more deeply one studies events and people, the more emphatically one realises how much must always remain that it is hopeless to try to understand. Nevertheless, the very contact with certain characters, even if we cannot always fathom their depths, is ennobling and edifying, and however much time may have passed since they left us to go to a better sphere, it is always good to linger over memories of great men whom we have had the privilege to meet. I hope, therefore, that I may be allowed to add in this book a few words about my friendship with Mr. Gladstone.

I have been told that the last word to fall from the lips of the great statesman several moments before his death, was "Amen." What a fitting and characteristic ending! The whole life and activity of this grand old man, indeed, reminds one of nothing {54} so much as of some nobly worded prayer or confession of faith. All his existence was based upon his religious ideals and convictions, which he put into practice simply and naturally in every word and action of his everyday life. Christian love and charity permeated his activities in a way that is rare indeed among public men, surrounded as they are by intrigues and rivalries and difficulties. He was generous, as only so great and noble a character can be, to the many enemies that surrounded him, supported even by Queen Victoria herself, whose sympathies were all in favour of Gladstone's opponent Beaconsfield.

Another trait in Mr. Gladstone's character, that always aroused my admiration, was the firm, unhesitating manner in which he would demolish all obstacles and, without looking to right or to left, make straight for his goal, in the face of opposition, animosity, even danger, once he had decided that the goal in question was the right one, the one pointed out by his conscience and his principles. He was entirely fearless in his opinions and convictions—he knew indeed only one fear: the fear of God. It seems to me that his courage could only be compared to his kindness, and I should like, in this connection, to mention an incident that comes to my mind, and that can surely be no secret now after so many years. It happened in the year 1884, during the great political crisis, when one heard on all sides the query: 'Will he return to power?' Everyone knew very well who was meant by the word "he." Just at that time I published my Russia and England, which cost me four years of {55} work and fatigue, and also some hesitation. Mr. Gladstone called with his wife to express his sympathetic approval, which he did in the most encouraging terms.

"I will write a review of your book," he said,—to which generous offer I replied protestingly, to Mrs. Gladstone's surprise and almost indignation: "No, no!" I exclaimed. "On no account! Not at this critical moment. Such a step may do you much harm. Besides, in these emotional times, English people will never read my book at all!"

In answer, Mr. Gladstone struck his hand angrily on the table, "I will compel them to read it," he said in a determined voice. "Every Englishman should not only read but study it!"

And truly enough, in spite of my remonstrances, the review was published in The Nineteenth Century, and contained the above recommendation to Mr. Gladstone's countrymen.

Could anyone be kinder or show greater political courage?

How the events and incidents of those exciting days linger in one's memory! It is indeed certain that I shall never forget them!

A few days after that glorious St. James's Hall meeting, there was a great reaction in public opinion. A large section of the Press began to ridicule Mr. Gladstone, calling him Gladstonoff (English people at that time, having the scantiest knowledge of things Russian, imagined that all Russian names ended in off!), and even insinuating that he was an agent in the Russian pay! But although one must admit that his responsibilities weighed heavily upon {56} him, nothing shook the courage and the determination of this dauntless English Slavophil to continue along the path he considered the right one.

Afterwards, when, at the summit of his greatness, he was for the second time re-elected Prime Minister, he wrote in his diary:

Oh, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden!
Too heavy for a man that hopes for Heaven!


And yet, how nobly and unflinchingly did he bear that burden all through his life!

Mr. Gladstone has been discussed and appraised and honoured all the world over as a great statesman. To me, however, his supreme claim to greatness lay even beyond his genius, in his rare and irreproachable moral qualities. Cardinal Manning once remarked that Mr. Gladstone was a more fitting person to receive Holy Orders than himself. "In fact," added the Cardinal frankly, "he is as perfectly suited for the Church as I am unsuited for it!"

Already in his childhood, Gladstone seems to have exercised a beneficial influence over his companions. Bishop Hamilton, famed for his many virtues, and treated by his contemporaries almost as a saint, has admitted that little Willie Gladstone saved him from many an escapade at Eton!

Much later, in 1838, Gladstone wrote his famous work, The State in its Relations to the Church; in 1845 he gave up his position as chief of the Ministry in order to remain true to his religious convictions, and still later, in 1857, he opposed, with all his energy, the "Divorce Bill," on the ground of his {57} belief that a union consecrated by the Church cannot be broken by human law.

I will not dwell upon a fact so well known as the sensation produced by the great English statesman's pamphlet on The Vatican. I will only say that it was the general public, and not Mr. Gladstone's personal friends, who were so astonished at the views expounded in that pamphlet. In his own intimate circle, I constantly heard him repeat his opinion that "Roman Catholicism is the systematic tyranny of the priest over the layman, the Bishop over the priest, and the Pope over the Bishop."

Feeling in his soul, on the one hand, almost a horror of Rome, and on the other a deep religious inspiration, Mr. Gladstone's sympathy with and admiration for the great cause of the Old Catholics were almost a foregone conclusion. He first came in contact with this movement through his friend D?llinger, and he never ceased to express his confidence in its ultimate success. Whenever he spoke of the Old Catholics, and he did so very frequently, it was always to express himself about them in terms of deep sympathy and approval, as of true Christians who strive, with such inspired faith and steadfast purpose, to propagate the doctrines of the original Christian Church, robbed of all the human errors that have crept into it and are represented by the ambitious and tyrannical Papacy of the Vatican. Mr. Gladstone was one of the first subscribers to the Revue internationale de Théologie, which always occupied a place of honour in his library, and which, in January, 1895, published his long letter to me on the subject of Old Catholicism {58} and D?llinger. This letter is reproduced in my pamphlet: "Christ or Moses? Which?" For D?llinger, Mr. Gladstone had the warmest admiration and friendship, looking upon him as one of the most remarkable men in the contemporary Christian Church.

The following letter from Mr. Gladstone will, I think, have some interest for my readers:—


HAWARDEN CASTLE, CHESTER,
    Oct. 6, 1894.

MY DEAR MADAME NOVIKOFF,

I can hardly ever write anything upon suggestion, what is more, is that I have before me continuous operations, long ago planned, and must refrain from those that are fragmentary. So I can undertake nothing new.

My interest in the Old Catholics is cordial. A sister of mine died in virtual union with them after having been Roman for over 30 years.

I remember suggesting to Dr. D?llinger that their future would probably depend in great measure upon their being able to enter into some kind of solid relations with the Eastern Church. And I earnestly hope this may go forward. Dr. D?llinger agreed in this opinion. They may do great good, and prevent the Latin Church by moral force from further Extravagances. All this you will think disheartening with reference to the object of your Letter. But I have a little more to say.

I have been drawn into writing a Preface to a Pictorial Edition of the Bible, which will probably {59} have a very wide circulation in America, but will be confined to English-speakers. My Preface will have no reference to that Edition, but to the Authority and Value of the Scriptures. I think there will be nothing to which you or Old Catholics would object....

Believe me, sincerely yours,
    W. E. GLADSTONE.


One of the most interesting letters I ever received from Mr. Gladstone, and one which showed his extreme kindness to me when I was in some theological difficulties, involves a story.

A very eminent and scientific friend, discussing with me some years ago the weighty question of Immortality according to the Old Testament, emphatically said:

"The Old Testament knows no Immortality! This is a fact which almost every student of theology understands perfectly well, and which, at the same time, nobody outside that class appears to have the least inkling of. The Old and New Testaments are commonly spoken and thought of as one book—one inspired work—instead of as two volumes, based on opposite and irreconcilable principles. The doctrine of the first is principally materialistic. The doctrine of the second is purely idealistic. The Old Testament represents God as Jehovah, quite otherwise than He is pictured by Jesus Christ. God, as pictured by the Jews, manifested Himself in the terrible 'Lex Talionis,' described in Exodus xxi. 24, 25: 'Eye for eye, burning for burning, wound for wound.' Whilst we are ordered by Jesus {60} Christ to 'do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.'"

I was greatly impressed by that conversation. It is obvious that once we deny immortality, we, at the same time, reject the existence of the soul. An ardent desire seized me to discuss that most important question from different points of view. I pressed my friend to sum up all his arguments and publish them to the world. After much hesitation he consented to do so, provided I took upon myself the responsibility of the publication and the distribution of his pamphlet amongst well-known professors of different European Universities.

Beyond this, a condítío sine qua non was my promise not to reveal his name during his lifetime. Of these stipulations the latter was, of course, the easiest; but I carefully carried out all of them. But now that he is dead I am at liberty to disclose his name. It was Count Alexander Keyserling, to whom Bismarck offered the post of Minister of Public Instruction in Germany, but which Keyserling refused.

I published, for private circulation, the German pamphlet Unsterblichkeítslehre nach der Bibel, and sent it to one hundred professors, including Frohschammer, Albert Réville, Treitschke, Blunschli, Alo?s Riehl, etc., etc., asking their opinion. In the great majority of cases they returned answer that the facts set forth were already well known to them, and, in fact, were generally admitted. One of the fraternity, a Roman Catholic priest, abused me roundly for dragging such a subject into public discussion.

{61}

But I bore this censure with equanimity. "Du choc des opíníons jaillit la vérité," and the more we study and investigate questions which guide our life the better.

Since then my desire to have the question more deeply investigated has been increased greatly by the assertion of a talented and outspoken Jewish writer that Judaism, or rather its teaching, is spreading. In the August number of the Fortnightly Review, 1884, he says: "This virtual assumption that the limits of human knowledge can extend no farther than those of the visible world, appears to me to be the central idea of Judaism." And he further asserts: "Judaism, the materialistic teaching, is then found to have resulted in Judaism the physical force." The author finishes thus: "History will show that ... it has been silently engaged in that further Judaisation of mankind, which is the sole ideal of its singularly practical teaching." Be it noted that the above is quoted from a panegyric of the Jewish doctrine!

Amongst those who wrote to me was Professor E. Michaud, one of the most distinguished representatives of the Old Catholic movement, and the editor of the La Revue internationale de Théologie (Berne, Suisse) who wrote as follows: "From a habit of detesting the Jews, people are sometimes brought to depreciate Judaism and ascribe to it almost materialistic doctrines. Judaism is certainly not Christianity; but neither is it Materialism."

Somewhat bewildered by these unexpected, and, as I think, exaggerated protests, I appealed to Mr. Gladstone, whose kindness in these matters had for {62} years been unfailing to me. My letter appears to have given him the mistaken impression that I was venturing on my own account into the polemical arena. Hence his reply, cautioning me against an undertaking so obviously beyond my powers.

His letter is most important, and I am glad to be able to publish so weighty a judgment on the most serious of all subjects, by the greatest Englishman of his century. Here it is:—


HOTEL CAP MARTIN, MENTONE,

Feb. 13th, 1895.

MY DEAR MADAME NOVIKOFF,

I am sorry you have not a better adviser, but I will discharge as fairly and frankly as I can the part which you desire me to undertake.

I do not see why the word "heresy" should be flung at you. Heresy is a very grave matter, and should not be charged except in cases where not only the subject matter is grave, but also the whole authority of the Church or Christian community has been brought to bear. I conceive, however, that the question of Jewish opinion on a future state, as opened in the Old Testament, is a question quite open to discussion.

I have myself been a good deal engaged latterly in examining the question of a future state, and have had occasion to touch more or less upon Jewish opinion. The subject is very interesting, but is also large and complex, and I would advise you as strongly as I may against publishing anything upon it without a previous examination proportioned in some degree to the character of the {63} subject. How can you safely enter upon it without some attention to the researches and the opinions of the writers who have examined it?

My own state of information is by no means so advanced as to warrant the expression of confident and final conclusions. But I think there are some things that are clearly enough to be borne in mind. We cannot but notice the wise reserve with which the Creeds treat the subject of the future state. After the period when they were framed, Christian opinion came gradually, I believe, to found itself upon an assumption due to the Greek philosophy, and especially to Plato, namely, that of the natural immortality of the human soul. And this opinion (which I am not much inclined to accept) supplies us, so to speak, with spectacles through which we look back upon the Hebrew ideas conveyed in the Old Testament.

Another view of the matter is, that man was not naturally immortal, but immortalíable. That had he not sinned, he would have attained regularly to immortality; but after his eating from the tree of knowledge he was prevented, as the text informs us, from feeding on the tree of life, and the subject of his immortality was thus thrown into vague and obscure distance.

I suppose it to be a reasonable opinion that there was a primitive communication of divine knowledge to man, but of this revelation we have no knowledge beyond the outline, so to call it, conveyed in the Book of Genesis. That outline, however, appears to show in the case of Enoch that one righteous man was specially saved from death; and the words of {64} our Saviour in the Gospel give us to understand that there were at any rate glimpses of the future state underlying Jewish opinion. We must not, I think, forget the respect with which our Saviour treats that opinion.

Nor can we forget that the Mosaic dispensation, coming as it were upon the back of the old patriarchal religion, being essentially national, was also predominantly temporal, and tended very powerfully to throw the idea of the future state into the shade.

Nevertheless, it is, I think, generally admitted that, while in certain passages the Psalmist speaks of it either despairingly or doubtfully, in some Psalms the subject is approached with a vivid and glowing belief; as when, for example, it is said: "When I awake up after Thy likeness I shall be satisfied with it."

You know how much upon some occasions I have both sympathised with and admired your authorship. I do not dissuade you from following up the task to which you are now drawn. But I do not think you have as yet quite reached the point at which publication would do honour to yourself or justice to your theme. And I am sure this very imperfect reply will serve to show that I do not treat your letter with levity nor try wantonly to throw obstacles in your path.

I shall be interested to know what you decide about writing—with or without further study.

W. E. GLADSTONE.

P.S.—Your letter, dated 6th, reached me yesterday.


{65}

Mr. Gladstone's letter may be regarded as the first and most interesting of those authoritative opinions which it is my sole object to elicit.

People who met Gladstone at my house always found in him not only an excellent and charming listener, but also a man who was ever ready to hear new suggestions, and who delighted in original opinions or ideas that seemed worthy of closer investigation. On some occasions, he was eloquent and talkative; at other times, quite the contrary. One afternoon, for instance, he was in the midst of arguing an interesting point with me, when he suddenly perceived on my table a catalogue of recent works on Shakespeare. It happened that he had never seen this particular catalogue before, and being an ardent Shakespeare enthusiast, the title attracted his attention. He picked up the book, approached a lamp, and began interestedly turning over the pages. Presently he sank into a chair, and having clearly quite forgotten his surroundings, was soon lost in study of his favourite literary subject.

Among my other visitors on that particular afternoon was Hayward, a well-known critic, also a dabbler in poetry and a would-be man of the world. Hayward had a great weakness for people with sounding names and assured positions, and was, of course, always more than pleased to be seen in conversation with the great Prime Minister of England. I was quite aware of this, and inwardly somewhat amused, for indeed, though myself belonging to the class patronised by Hayward, I often invited to my house people whose present was perhaps humble, {66} but whose future seemed to me promising. I have every sympathy and admiration for family traditions, and aristocratic manners and associations—but I have always felt that if one never comes in contact with self-made, energetic, persevering people with ideas and ideals, one is inclined to grow narrow and prejudiced. This has always particularly struck me during my visits to Vienna. The Viennese aristocracy, in spite of loud voices and a bad habit of shouting as though one were deaf, is distinguished for its graceful and charming manners. However, beyond references to ballets and to sport, punctuated by gossip about mutual friends, conversation is practically non-existent. There is only a perpetual buzz of small talk, tedious to the highest degree, and to me at least, acceptable only in homoeopathic doses!

Self-made men, as I have found, always have something more interesting to say; their characters are often worth studying, give one food for reflection, and, being a new element in society, introduce new ideas to broaden our minds. This has always been my view, and I have followed it out, often in the face of protests from my friends who urged me to be more exclusive, and who failed to understand that ideas are better than empty grandeur.

Gladstone, Froude, Kinglake, Tyndall and many others, however, fortunately shared my peculiar tastes in this matter, and perhaps this was one of the reasons why my association with them was always, as I think, pleasant for us all.

But I have made a long digression, and must return to my party.

{67}

Hayward, as I have said, was always greatly attracted by the presence of Gladstone, and made every effort to draw him into conversation. Alas, however, nothing could divert him from his book (the Shakespeare Catalogue). His answers to all Hayward's remarks were vague and monosyllabic, and only after some time did he look up and reply quite irrelevantly to some question on current events. "Strange, I have never seen this catalogue before," observed Gladstone. Hayward was indignant. "There is nothing to see," he grumbled testily, "it is only a list of reprints, and an incomplete list at that."

"No, no," remonstrated Gladstone enthusiastically, "that is just the charm of it—there really seems to be nothing missing."

"Oh, yes," objected Hayward angrily, "there are many things missing. I know all the Shakespearean literature as well as anyone. I can show you at once."

"Oh, but show me, show me," exclaimed Gladstone, highly interested.

Hayward took the volume somewhat resentfully, and it was now his turn to lose himself in its pages, while Gladstone waited in silence, and my remaining visitors looked at me almost in distress! The incident ended as unexpectedly as it began. After having almost quarrelled with Hayward about some published or unpublished works, Gladstone suddenly remembered that he had promised Mrs. Gladstone to be back at a certain hour, rose hurriedly, and took his leave. I was exceedingly amused; not so, however, my remaining guests.

{68}

"You can hardly say that these manners are good!" remarked someone to me. "Well," I answered, "I never find fault with my friends. Besides, is it not natural that an Englishman should be carried away with enthusiasm for your great English genius Shakespeare, who is honoured all the world over?"

This was not the only occasion on which I remarked that Gladstone had an almost morbid love of books. In Russia, we had only one man who was a match for the great English Premier in this respect: this was the head of our Holy Synod, Pobyedonostzeff. I used to send new books that I came across to both these friends, but I confess that I seldom had the satisfaction to find that my gifts were not already known to them.

Pobyedonostzeff being, of course, incessantly busy and in demand, and rarely having a moment to himself, would on receiving a new book that interested him, take a train from Petrograd to Moscow, and back in order to enjoy some hours of solitude and the possibility of reading his book undisturbed during this improvised journey!

Another of my book-lover friends who has left so warm an impression in my remembrance, and whose name comes to my mind as I write, is Tyndall. How good and kind-hearted he always was, and how responsive and eager to do good and to help others!

As I have said, Mr. Gladstone was greatly interested in the Old Catholics. On one occasion when we were both dining with Dr. D?llinger, one of the leaders of the Old Catholic movement, at {69} Munich, we were discussing the Old Catholicism and Mr. Gladstone repeated how greatly interested he was in the movement. I remember the way in which he spoke to me afterwards of his sister in connection with the Old Catholic question. I thought it only natural to tell him that, as I should pass Cologne on my way to Russia, I would like to call on her. Mr. Gladstone's face brightened at my suggestion.

When I called on Miss Helen Gladstone I found that she already expected my visit, and had heard a great deal not only about me, but about the Old Catholic question.

"Yes," she said, "my brother is quite a superior man. But if you knew what an original he is! For instance, once when he was travelling abroad already in his capacity of Prime Minister, his wife desired him to take a drive and off they went. But what vehicle do you think they took? A little one-horsed cart, just as if they were two paupers sent on some business!"

"Don't you think it is natural," said I, "for a man like Mr. Gladstone, who has so many grand ideas and splendid schemes, to pay no attention to the trivialities of this conventional world? Let me tell you what happened to us once, when the Gladstones and myself met at Munich. We went to a Museum, the President of which was very anxious to make the 'honneurs' of some very rare specimens. He showed us a certain dish, and seemed particularly proud of it. Your brother took it in his hand, examined it very carefully, and then said: 'But you know, Professor, this is not genuine. In {70} a genuine dish there would be here a special little mark that is not to be found here,' The President actually turned pale—would you believe it?"

Dear Miss Gladstone seemed quite charmed with this story. "Oh, how like him!" she exclaimed. "He knows everything. But you promised to tell me something more about him," she pressed.

"Well," I said, "my second recollection refers to our meeting in Paris. When I arrived there the celebrated politician and journalist, Emile de Girardin, asked me to a large dinner party that he was giving. A few days before this event, I heard of the Gladstones' arrival in Paris and mentioned it to Monsieur de Girardin, with the suggestion how nice it would be if he were to invite them also. My old Frenchman was delighted. 'Oh, do try to arrange that!' he exclaimed; 'I do not know them personally, but have always longed to make their acquaintance. I shall send you the list of all my guests, and hope you will try to ascertain whom they would like to meet, and whom to avoid.' This was an easy task, and I fulfilled it. Mr. Gladstone said: 'I would very much like to meet your brother, General Kiréeff (who had already been invited), and the Contributor of the Revue des Deux Mondes, Scherer'—(Scherer was a celebrated senator, politician and literary critic). It so happened that by chance I knew some of his work, and was delighted at the prospect of this meeting. But Mr. Gladstone frankly admitted that he would not like to meet Gambetta. This desire was also observed at the end of the dinner; one of the guests addressed a long speech of welcome to Mr. Gladstone, of course in {71} French. But just fancy my surprise, when Mr. Gladstone rose and answered, also in French, to the delight of the whole assembly. No one had suspected that he possessed such a mastery of the French language. As to my brother, who took Miss Helen Gladstone in to dinner, they turned out to be both great admirers of Botticelli and well agreed on their favourite subject."

Dear old Miss Gladstone seemed delighted with all these details about her relations, and pressed me to prolong my visit, which I did to the point of losing my train!