GLADSTONE AND MORLEY
Mr. Gladstone paid my "American Four-in-Hand in Britain" quite a
compliment when Mrs. Carnegie and I were his guests at Hawarden in
April, 1892. He suggested one day that I should spend the morning with
him in his new library, while he arranged his books (which no one
except himself was ever allowed to touch), and we could converse. In
prowling about the shelves I found a unique volume and called out to
my host, then on top of a library ladder far from me handling heavy
volumes:
"Mr. Gladstone, I find here a book 'Dunfermline Worthies,' by a friend
of my father's. I knew some of the worthies when a child."
"Yes," he replied, "and if you will pass your hand three or four books
to the left I think you will find another book by a Dunfermline man."
I did so and saw my book "An American Four-in-Hand in Britain." Ere I
had done so, however, I heard that organ voice orating in full swing
from the top of the ladder:
"What Mecca is to the Mohammedan, Benares to the Hindoo, Jerusalem to
the Christian, all that Dunfermline is to me."
My ears heard the voice some moments before my brain realized that
these were my own words called forth by the first glimpse caught of
Dunfermline as we approached it from the south.[66]
[Footnote 66: The whole paragraph is as follows: "How beautiful is
Dunfermline seen from the Ferry Hills, its grand old Abbey towering
over all, seeming to hallow the city, and to lend a charm and dignity
to the lowliest tenement! Nor is there in all broad Scotland, nor in
many places elsewhere that I know of, a more varied and delightful
view than that obtained from the Park upon a fine day. What Benares is
to the Hindoo, Mecca to the Mohammedan, Jerusalem to the Christian,
all that Dunfermline is to me." (_An American Four-in-Hand in
Britain_, p. 282.)]
"How on earth did you come to get this book?" I asked. "I had not the
honor of knowing you when it was written and could not have sent you a
copy."
"No!" he replied, "I had not then the pleasure of your acquaintance,
but some one, I think Rosebery, told me of the book and I sent for it
and read it with delight. That tribute to Dunfermline struck me as so
extraordinary it lingered with me. I could never forget it."
This incident occurred eight years after the "American Four-in-Hand"
was written, and adds another to the many proofs of Mr. Gladstone's
wonderful memory. Perhaps as a vain author I may be pardoned for
confessing my grateful appreciation of his no less wonderful judgment.
[Illustration: _Photograph from Underwood & Underwood, N.Y._
WILLIAM E. GLADSTONE]
The politician who figures publicly as "reader of the lesson" on
Sundays, is apt to be regarded suspiciously. I confess that until I
had known Mr. Gladstone well, I had found the thought arising now and
then that the wary old gentleman might feel at least that these
appearances cost him no votes. But all this vanished as I learned his
true character. He was devout and sincere if ever man was. Yes, even
when he records in his diary (referred to by Morley in his "Life of
Gladstone") that, while addressing the House of Commons on the budget
for several hours with great acceptance, he was "conscious of being
sustained by the Divine Power above." Try as one may, who can deny
that to one of such abounding faith this belief in the support of the
Unknown Power must really have proved a sustaining influence,
although it may shock others to think that any mortal being could be
so bold as to imagine that the Creator of the Universe would concern
himself about Mr. Gladstone's budget, prepared for a little speck of
this little speck of earth? It seems almost sacrilegious, yet to Mr.
Gladstone we know it was the reverse--a religious belief such as has
no doubt often enabled men to accomplish wonders as direct agents of
God and doing His work.
On the night of the Queen's Jubilee in June, 1887, Mr. Blaine and I
were to dine at Lord Wolverton's in Piccadilly, to meet Mr. and Mrs.
Gladstone--Mr. Blaine's first introduction to him. We started in a cab
from the Metropole Hotel in good time, but the crowds were so dense
that the cab had to be abandoned in the middle of St. James's Street.
Reaching the pavement, Mr. Blaine following, I found a policeman and
explained to him who my companion was, where we were going, and asked
him if he could not undertake to get us there. He did so, pushing his
way through the masses with all the authority of his office and we
followed. But it was nine o'clock before we reached Lord Wolverton's.
We separated after eleven.
Mr. Gladstone explained that he and Mrs. Gladstone had been able to
reach the house by coming through Hyde Park and around the back way.
They expected to get back to their residence, then in Carlton Terrace,
in the same way. Mr. Blaine and I thought we should enjoy the streets
and take our chances of getting back to the hotel by pushing through
the crowds. We were doing this successfully and were moving slowly
with the current past the Reform Club when I heard a word or two
spoken by a voice close to the building on my right. I said to Mr.
Blaine:
"That is Mr. Gladstone's voice."
He said: "It is impossible. We have just left him returning to his
residence."
"I don't care; I recognize voices better than faces, and I am sure
that is Gladstone's."
Finally I prevailed upon him to return a few steps. We got close to
the side of the house and moved back. I came to a muffled figure and
whispered:
"What does 'Gravity' out of its bed at midnight?"
Mr. Gladstone was discovered. I told him I recognized his voice
whispering to his companion.
"And so," I said, "the real ruler comes out to see the illuminations
prepared for the nominal ruler!"
He replied: "Young man, I think it is time you were in bed."
We remained a few minutes with him, he being careful not to remove
from his head and face the cloak that covered them. It was then past
midnight and he was eighty, but, boylike, after he got Mrs. Gladstone
safely home he had determined to see the show.
The conversation at the dinner between Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Blaine
turned upon the differences in Parliamentary procedure between Britain
and America. During the evening Mr. Gladstone cross-examined Mr.
Blaine very thoroughly upon the mode of procedure of the House of
Representatives of which Mr. Blaine had been the Speaker. I saw the
"previous question," and summary rules with us for restricting
needless debate made a deep impression upon Mr. Gladstone. At
intervals the conversation took a wider range.
Mr. Gladstone was interested in more subjects than perhaps any other
man in Britain. When I was last with him in Scotland, at Mr.
Armistead's, his mind was as clear and vigorous as ever, his interest
in affairs equally strong. The topic which then interested him most,
and about which he plied me with questions, was the tall steel
buildings in our country, of which he had been reading. What puzzled
him was how it could be that the masonry of a fifth floor or sixth
story was often finished before the third or fourth. This I explained,
much to his satisfaction. In getting to the bottom of things he was
indefatigable.
Mr. Morley (although a lord he still remains as an author plain John
Morley) became one of our British friends quite early as editor of the
"Fortnightly Review," which published my first contribution to a
British periodical.[67] The friendship has widened and deepened in our
old age until we mutually confess we are very close friends to each
other.[68] We usually exchange short notes (sometimes long ones) on
Sunday afternoons as the spirit moves us. We are not alike; far from
it. We are drawn together because opposites are mutually beneficial to
each other. I am optimistic; all my ducks being swans. He is
pessimistic, looking out soberly, even darkly, upon the real dangers
ahead, and sometimes imagining vain things. He is inclined to see
"an officer in every bush." The world seems bright to me, and earth
is often a real heaven--so happy I am and so thankful to the kind
fates. Morley is seldom if ever wild about anything; his judgment is
always deliberate and his eyes are ever seeing the spots on the sun.
[Footnote 67: _An American Four-in-Hand in Britain._]
[Footnote 68: "Mr. Carnegie had proved his originality, fullness of
mind, and bold strength of character, as much or more in the
distribution of wealth as he had shown skill and foresight in its
acquisition. We had become known to one another more than twenty years
before through Matthew Arnold. His extraordinary freshness of spirit
easily carried Arnold, Herbert Spencer, myself, and afterwards many
others, high over an occasional crudity or haste in judgment such as
befalls the best of us in ardent hours. People with a genius for
picking up pins made as much as they liked of this: it was wiser to do
justice to his spacious feel for the great objects of the world--for
knowledge and its spread, invention, light, improvement of social
relations, equal chances to the talents, the passion for peace. These
are glorious things; a touch of exaggeration in expression is easy to
set right.... A man of high and wide and well-earned mark in his
generation." (John, Viscount Morley, in _Recollections_, vol. II, pp.
110, 112. New York, 1919.)]
[Illustration: _Photograph from Underwood & Underwood, N.Y._
VISCOUNT MORLEY OF BLACKBURN]
I told him the story of the pessimist whom nothing ever pleased, and
the optimist whom nothing ever displeased, being congratulated by the
angels upon their having obtained entrance to heaven. The pessimist
replied:
"Yes, very good place, but somehow or other this halo don't fit my
head exactly."
The optimist retorted by telling the story of a man being carried down
to purgatory and the Devil laying his victim up against a bank while
he got a drink at a spring--temperature very high. An old friend
accosted him:
"Well, Jim, how's this? No remedy possible; you're a gone coon sure."
The reply came: "Hush, it might be worse."
"How's that, when you are being carried down to the bottomless pit?"
"Hush"--pointing to his Satanic Majesty--"he might take a notion to
make me carry him."
Morley, like myself, was very fond of music and reveled in the morning
hour during which the organ was being played at Skibo. He was
attracted by the oratorios as also Arthur Balfour. I remember they got
tickets together for an oratorio at the Crystal Palace. Both are sane
but philosophic, and not very far apart as philosophers, I understand;
but some recent productions of Balfour send him far afield
speculatively--a field which Morley never attempts. He keeps his foot
on the firm ground and only treads where the way is cleared. No
danger of his being "lost in the woods" while searching for the path.
Morley's most astonishing announcement of recent days was in his
address to the editors of the world, assembled in London. He informed
them in effect that a few lines from Burns had done more to form and
maintain the present improved political and social conditions of the
people than all the millions of editorials ever written. This followed
a remark that there were now and then a few written or spoken words
which were in themselves events; they accomplished what they
described. Tom Paine's "Rights of Man" was mentioned as such.
Upon his arrival at Skibo after this address we talked it over. I
referred to his tribute to Burns and his six lines, and he replied
that he didn't need to tell me what lines these were.
"No," I said, "I know them by heart."
In a subsequent address, unveiling a statue of Burns in the park at
Montrose, I repeated the lines I supposed he referred to, and he
approved them. He and I, strange to say, had received the Freedom of
Montrose together years before, so we are fellow-freemen.
At last I induced Morley to visit us in America, and he made a tour
through a great part of our country in 1904. We tried to have him meet
distinguished men like himself. One day Senator Elihu Root called at
my request and Morley had a long interview with him. After the Senator
left Morley remarked to me that he had enjoyed his companion greatly,
as being the most satisfactory American statesman he had yet met. He
was not mistaken. For sound judgment and wide knowledge of our public
affairs Elihu Root has no superior.
Morley left us to pay a visit to President Roosevelt at the White
House, and spent several fruitful days in company with that
extraordinary man. Later, Morley's remark was:
"Well, I've seen two wonders in America, Roosevelt and Niagara."
That was clever and true to life--a great pair of roaring, tumbling,
dashing and splashing wonders, knowing no rest, but both doing their
appointed work, such as it is.
Morley was the best person to have the Acton library and my gift of it
to him came about in this way. When Mr. Gladstone told me the position
Lord Acton was in, I agreed, at his suggestion, to buy Acton's library
and allow it to remain for his use during life. Unfortunately, he did
not live long to enjoy it--only a few years--and then I had the
library upon my hands. I decided that Morley could make the best use
of it for himself and would certainly leave it eventually to the
proper institution. I began to tell him that I owned it when he
interrupted me, saying:
"Well, I must tell you I have known this from the day you bought it.
Mr. Gladstone couldn't keep the secret, being so overjoyed that Lord
Acton had it secure for life."
Here were he and I in close intimacy, and yet never had one mentioned
the situation to the other; but it was a surprise to me that Morley
was not surprised. This incident proved the closeness of the bond
between Gladstone and Morley--the only man he could not resist sharing
his happiness with regarding earthly affairs. Yet on theological
subjects they were far apart where Acton and Gladstone were akin.
The year after I gave the fund for the Scottish universities Morley
went to Balmoral as minister in attendance upon His Majesty, and wired
that he must see me before we sailed. We met and he informed me His
Majesty was deeply impressed with the gift to the universities and the
others I had made to my native land, and wished him to ascertain
whether there was anything in his power to bestow which I would
appreciate.
I asked: "What did you say?"
Morley replied: "I do not think so."
I said: "You are quite right, except that if His Majesty would write
me a note expressing his satisfaction with what I had done, as he has
to you, this would be deeply appreciated and handed down to my
descendants as something they would all be proud of."
This was done. The King's autograph note I have already transcribed
elsewhere in these pages.
That Skibo has proved the best of all health resorts for Morley is
indeed fortunate, for he comes to us several times each summer and is
one of the family, Lady Morley accompanying him. He is as fond of the
yacht as I am myself, and, fortunately again, it is the best medicine
for both of us. Morley is, and must always remain, "Honest John." No
prevarication with him, no nonsense, firm as a rock upon all questions
and in all emergencies; yet always looking around, fore and aft, right
and left, with a big heart not often revealed in all its tenderness,
but at rare intervals and upon fit occasion leaving no doubt of its
presence and power. And after that silence.
[Illustration: MR. CARNEGIE WITH VISCOUNT MORLEY]
[Illustration: THE CARNEGIE FAMILY AT SKIBO]
Chamberlain and Morley were fast friends as advanced radicals, and I
often met and conferred with them when in Britain. When the Home Rule
issue was raised, much interest was aroused in Britain over our
American Federal system. I was appealed to freely and delivered
public addresses in several cities, explaining and extolling our
union, many in one, the freest government of the parts producing the
strongest government of the whole. I sent Mr. Chamberlain Miss Anna L.
Dawes's "How We Are Governed," at his request for information, and had
conversations with Morley, Gladstone, and many others upon the
subject.
I had to write Mr. Morley that I did not approve of the first Home
Rule Bill for reasons which I gave. When I met Mr. Gladstone he
expressed his regret at this and a full talk ensued. I objected to the
exclusion of the Irish members from Parliament as being a practical
separation. I said we should never have allowed the Southern States to
cease sending representatives to Washington.
"What would you have done if they refused?" he asked.
"Employed all the resources of civilization--first, stopped the
mails," I replied.
He paused and repeated:
"Stop the mails." He felt the paralysis this involved and was silent,
and changed the subject.
In answer to questions as to what I should do, I always pointed out
that America had many legislatures, but only one Congress. Britain
should follow her example, one Parliament and local legislatures (not
parliaments) for Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. These should be made
states like New York and Virginia. But as Britain has no Supreme
Court, as we have, to decide upon laws passed, not only by state
legislatures but by Congress, the judicial being the final authority
and not the political, Britain should have Parliament as the one
national final authority over Irish measures. Therefore, the acts of
the local legislature of Ireland should lie for three months'
continuous session upon the table of the House of Commons, subject to
adverse action of the House, but becoming operative unless
disapproved. The provision would be a dead letter unless improper
legislation were enacted, but if there were improper legislation, then
it would be salutary. The clause, I said, was needed to assure timid
people that no secession could arise.
Urging this view upon Mr. Morley afterwards, he told me this had been
proposed to Parnell, but rejected. Mr. Gladstone might then have said:
"Very well, this provision is not needed for myself and others who
think with me, but it is needed to enable us to carry Britain with us.
I am now unable to take up the question. The responsibility is yours."
One morning at Hawarden Mrs. Gladstone said:
"William tells me he has such extraordinary conversations with you."
These he had, no doubt. He had not often, if ever, heard the breezy
talk of a genuine republican and did not understand my inability to
conceive of different hereditary ranks. It seemed strange to me that
men should deliberately abandon the name given them by their parents,
and that name the parents' name. Especially amusing were the new
titles which required the old hereditary nobles much effort to refrain
from smiling at as they greeted the newly made peer who had perhaps
bought his title for ten thousand pounds, more or less, given to the
party fund.
Mr. Blaine was with us in London and I told Mr. Gladstone he had
expressed to me his wonder and pain at seeing him in his old age hat
in hand, cold day as it was, at a garden party doing homage to titled
nobodies. Union of Church and State was touched upon, and also my
"Look Ahead," which foretells the reunion of our race owing to the
inability of the British Islands to expand. I had held that the
disestablishment of the English Church was inevitable, because among
other reasons it was an anomaly. No other part of the race had it. All
religions were fostered, none favored, in every other English-speaking
state. Mr. Gladstone asked:
"How long do you give our Established Church to live?"
My reply was I could not fix a date; he had had more experience than I
in disestablishing churches. He nodded and smiled.
When I had enlarged upon a certain relative decrease of population in
Britain that must come as compared with other countries of larger
area, he asked:
"What future do you forecast for her?"
I referred to Greece among ancient nations and said that it was,
perhaps, not accident that Chaucer, Shakespeare, Spenser, Milton,
Burns, Scott, Stevenson, Bacon, Cromwell, Wallace, Bruce, Hume, Watt,
Spencer, Darwin, and other celebrities had arisen here. Genius did not
depend upon material resources. Long after Britain could not figure
prominently as an industrial nation, not by her decline, but through
the greater growth of others, she might in my opinion become the
modern Greece and achieve among nations moral ascendancy.
He caught at the words, repeating them musingly:
"Moral ascendancy, moral ascendancy, I like that, I like that."
I had never before so thoroughly enjoyed a conference with a man. I
visited him again at Hawarden, but my last visit to him was at Lord
Randall's at Cannes the winter of 1897 when he was suffering keenly.
He had still the old charm and was especially attentive to my
sister-in-law, Lucy, who saw him then for the first time and was
deeply impressed. As we drove off, she murmured, "A sick eagle! A sick
eagle!" Nothing could better describe this wan and worn leader of men
as he appeared to me that day. He was not only a great, but a truly
good man, stirred by the purest impulses, a high, imperious soul
always looking upward. He had, indeed, earned the title: "Foremost
Citizen of the World."
In Britain, in 1881, I had entered into business relations with Samuel
Storey, M.P., a very able man, a stern radical, and a genuine
republican. We purchased several British newspapers and began a
campaign of political progress upon radical lines. Passmore Edwards
and some others joined us, but the result was not encouraging. Harmony
did not prevail among my British friends and finally I decided to
withdraw, which I was fortunately able to do without loss.[69]
[Footnote 69: Mr. Carnegie acquired no less than eighteen British
newspapers with the idea of promoting radical views. The political
results were disappointing, but with his genius for making money the
pecuniary results were more than satisfactory.]
My third literary venture, "Triumphant Democracy,"[70] had its origin
in realizing how little the best-informed foreigner, or even Briton,
knew of America, and how distorted that little was. It was prodigious
what these eminent Englishmen did not then know about the Republic. My
first talk with Mr. Gladstone in 1882 can never be forgotten. When I
had occasion to say that the majority of the English-speaking race was
now republican and it was a minority of monarchists who were upon the
defensive, he said:
"Why, how is that?"
"Well, Mr. Gladstone," I said, "the Republic holds sway over a larger
number of English-speaking people than the population of Great Britain
and all her colonies even if the English-speaking colonies were
numbered twice over."
"Ah! how is that? What is your population?"
"Sixty-six millions, and yours is not much more than half."
"Ah, yes, surprising!"
[Footnote 70: _Triumphant Democracy, or Fifty Years' March of the
Republic._ London, 1886; New York, 1888.]
With regard to the wealth of the nations, it was equally surprising
for him to learn that the census of 1880 proved the hundred-year-old
Republic could purchase Great Britain and Ireland and all their
realized capital and investments and then pay off Britain's debt, and
yet not exhaust her fortune. But the most startling statement of all
was that which I was able to make when the question of Free Trade was
touched upon. I pointed out that America was now the greatest
manufacturing nation in the world. [At a later date I remember Lord
Chancellor Haldane fell into the same error, calling Britain the
greatest manufacturing country in the world, and thanked me for
putting him right.] I quoted Mulhall's figures: British manufactures
in 1880, eight hundred and sixteen millions sterling; American
manufactures eleven hundred and twenty-six millions sterling.[71] His
one word was:
"Incredible!"
[Footnote 71: The estimated value of manufactures in Great Britain in
1900 was five billions of dollars as compared to thirteen billions for
the United States. In 1914 the United States had gone to over
twenty-four billions.]
Other startling statements followed and he asked:
"Why does not some writer take up this subject and present the facts
in a simple and direct form to the world?"
I was then, as a matter of fact, gathering material for "Triumphant
Democracy," in which I intended to perform the very service which he
indicated, as I informed him.
"Round the World" and the "American Four-in-Hand" gave me not the
slightest effort but the preparation of "Triumphant Democracy," which
I began in 1882, was altogether another matter. It required steady,
laborious work. Figures had to be examined and arranged, but as I went
forward the study became fascinating. For some months I seemed to have
my head filled with statistics. The hours passed away unheeded. It was
evening when I supposed it was midday. The second serious illness of
my life dates from the strain brought upon me by this work, for I had
to attend to business as well. I shall think twice before I trust
myself again with anything so fascinating as figures.