Gladstone. *]*] 



are going to " — but this is too much ! The tears are 

 rolHng down my cheeks once more as I picture that 

 wild scene. 



We heard the chimes at midnight, and then to bed- 

 Windsor is nothing unless royal. It is all over royal, 

 although Her Majesty was absent. But the Prince of 

 Wales was there, and a greater than he — Mr. Glad- 

 stone — had run down from muggy London to refresh 

 his faded energies by communing with nature. It is 

 said that his friends are alarmed at his haggard appear- 

 ance toward the close of each week ; but he spends 

 Saturday and Sunday in the country, and returns on 

 Monday to surprise them at the change. Ah ! he has 

 found the kindest, truest nurse, for he knows — 



. . . " that Nature never did betray 

 The heart that loved her ; 'tis her privilege, 

 Through all the years of this our life, to lead 

 From joy to joy ; for she can so inform 

 The mind that is within us, so impress 

 With quietness and beauty, and so feed 

 With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, 

 Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, 

 Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all 

 The dreary intercourse of daily life. 

 Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb 

 Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold 

 Is full of blessings." 



Mr. Gladstone's fresh appearance Monday mornings 

 gratifies his friends, and pleases even his opponents, 



