A NIGHT WITH MR GLADSTONE.

Press, Volume XLVI, Issue 7357, 9 July 1889, Page 6

A NIGHT WITH MR GLADSTONE.

A London gossip met Mr Gladstone at dinner the other night, and he gives an interesting account of his conversation. The only casual indications that Mr Gladstone has entered his eightieth year (says the correspondent) are an increasing deafness and a slight huskiness in his voice, which latter wears off as he talks—and he talks with aoounding freeness, though, as some observed, he is also " a most attractive listener." One notable thing about his personal appearance is the brightness of his eyes. They are fuller and more unclouded than those of many a man under fifty. Mr Gladstone was dowered at his birth with a magnificent constitution, but he has all his life taken great care of it. Talking about Mr Bright he fspoke regretfully of the carelessness with which his old friend dealt with himself. "Bright," he said emphatically, " did nothing he should do to preserve his health, and everything he should not." If he had only been wise, and~wise in time, there, is in Mr Gladstone's opinion, no reason in the world why be should not have been alive to-day, hale and strong. But he never would listen to advice about himself. Mr Gladstone told a fnnny little story about Mr Bright's habits on this score. Up to within the last ten years ha had no recognised medical attendant. There was some anonymous and unknown person to whom he went for advice, and of whom he spoke oracularly. " But," said Mr Gladstone, with that curious approach to a wink that sometimes varies his grave aspect, " he would never tell his name or say where he lived." About ten years ago Mr Bright surprised Sir Andrew Clark by appearing in his consulting-room. Sir Andrew, who knew all about hie peculiarities in this matter, asked him how it was he came to see him. " Oh," said Mr Bright, " it's Gladstone: he never will let mc rest." The mischief of long neglect had been accomplished, but Mr Bright acknowledged the immense benefit he received, and nothing more was heard of the anonymous doctor. MB. GLADSTONE GETS SEVEN HOURS' SLEEP. " Mr Gladstone " (continues the correspondent) " seems to have acted as mentor to Mr Bright in other respects than that of his bodily health. He used to ativise him as one panacea for preserving health of mind and body never to think of political matters after getting into bed or on awakening in the morning. 4 1 never do that,' Mr Gladstone said. *I never allow myself to do it. In the most exciting political crisis I dismiss current matters entirely from my mind when I go to bed, and will not think of them till 1 get up in the morning. I told Bright this, and he said, " That's all very well for you, but my way Is exactly the reverse. I think over all my speeches when I am in bed.'" Like Sancbo Panza, Mr Gladstone has a great gift of sleep. Seven hours he always gets, and," he added with a smile, I should like to have eight. I hate getting up in the morning, and hate it the same every morning. But one can do everything by habit, and when I have had my seven hours' sleep my habit is to get up." HOMER DIDN'T THINK MUCH OP VENTJS. "Mr Gladstone evidently enjoyed the company in which he found himself, end was in bounding spirits. Nothing was more surprising than the range of his topics, unless it was the completeness of his information upon them. Homer very early came under review, and for ten minutes he talked bout him with brightening eye, and the deep rich tones of voice used only when he is moved. One thing I remember he said about Homer that struck mc as new was that he evidently did not like Venus—Aphrodite, as Mr Gladstone preferred to call the goddess. He cited half a dozen illustrations of Homer's dielike for a goddess usually facinating to mankind. Pictures and artists he discussed, with special reference to the picture shows now open in London. IHe said that he always liked to go ■ round a picture gallery with an artist, " Artiste," he said," in looking at a picture I always see in it less to criticise and more to admire than is possible to ordinary people. An artist sees more in a man s face than you or L" Thirty-five times Mr Gladstone has bad his portrait painted. He had, he said, the good fortune to have fallen into the hands of a great artist, who made the minimum demand upon hie time. In his individual case, five hours suffices Millais for sittings for the most elaborate portrait, and thfe time is given by Mr Gladstone with real pleasure. "Iβ Millais, then, a charming companion when at his work?" some one asked. "Yes," said Mr Gladstone, "but not because he talks. To see him at his work is a delight for the way in which he throws hie heart and soul into it" MB GLADSTONE AND FACES. Mr Gladstone'e memory ie amazing, more particularly for events that too* place half a century ago. Oddly enough, where memory has always failed him, is in the matter of faces. This gift, precious to princes, was withheld from him. He told how, some fifty years ago, there was a man going about with some theory, (now sunk inte oblivion), by the application of which, in connection with electricity, be estimated a man's character as a phrenologist does by feeling hie bumps. " There were three faculties, he told mc, in which I was lacking," said Mr Gladstone. '* One of them was that I had no memory for faces, and I am sorry to say it Iβ quite true." What the other two lacking gifts were Mr Gladstone did not cay: but this foncetfalness effaces he evidently deeply deplored, probably recognising tail the occasion of some muandentanalaga