Actually a reverend gentleman compiled, under the head of ‘Musical Evenings with the Great and Good,’ a service of song. The directions are to open with the hymn, ‘Hark, my soul! it is the Lord.’ A footnote informs us that ‘this hymn of Cowper’s has been translated by Mr. Gladstone into Italian.’ The direct bearing of these facts is not at once apparent, but possibly enlightenment may arrive during the ‘Prayer’ which is to follow. The first verse of the next hymn runs:
‘Sing we a song of praise to-day
For battles fought and victories won,
For strength vouchsafed upon our way,
And noble work our cause has done;
For joy that cometh after tears,
And harvests reaped for fifty years.’
Later on a kind of parenthetic observation runs, that ‘Oxford is an ancient seat of learning, and may be the fountain of intellectual light; but it has ever been the home of political darkness and the defender of exclusive privilege.’ As Mr. Gladstone’s earlier political career is very sweepingly condemned, and the evil influences of the University deplored, it is to be presumed that the half-century of harvest is a small stretch of the exuberant poetic licence that Mr. Thoseby permits himself occasionally. Personal encouragement to Mr. Gladstone, however, is not wanting, and he is told to
‘Hold on, my brother, hold on!
Hold on till the prize is won,
Hold on to the plough,
And weary not now,
For the work is well-nigh done.’
A subsequent song informs him positively that
‘The day shall appear,
When the might with the right
And the Truth shall be:
Come there what may to stand in the way,
That day the world shall see.’
And that there is to be
‘No surrender, no surrender
In the cause of truth and right.’
But perhaps the climax of Gladstonolatry is reached in the following passages:
‘In Mr. Gladstone’s work as legislator and administrator there is, from first to last, the same thoroughness and mastery. He never introduced a measure into the House in a crude and incomplete manner. He mastered every detail, and knew exactly the value and bearing of every suggestion and amendment offered, and whether he could admit it or not. He introduced no measures merely to curry favour, to strengthen his party, or catch the popular vote. He has always had regard to pressing needs, and has made it a matter of duty to press and pass the measures he introduced. And these measures have never been condemned except by “politicians in distress.” In his work as administrator he has not left the work to be done by subordinates. He has attended to his own duties, and toiled to understand every particular, and, in consequence, he has never had to vacillate, taking a position to-day from which he has had to withdraw to-morrow; saying one thing to-day and contradicting it the next.’