CHAPTER XXXII Sir George Lewis--King's Solicitor and Friend--A Social Force CHAPTER XXXIII Mr. Mills--A Personal Appreciation and a Few Anecdotes CHAPTER XXXIV Lord Randolph Churchill--Being Mostly Personal Impressions CHAPTER XXXV Lord Glenesk and "The Morning Post" CHAPTER XXXVI Queen Victoria at Balmoral--King Edward at Dunrobin--Admiral Sir Hedworth Lambton--Other Anecdotes CHAPTER XXXVII Famous Englishmen Not in Politics CHAPTER XXXVIII Lord St. Helier--American and English Methods--Mr. Benjamin CHAPTER XXXIX Mrs. Jeune, Lady Jeune, and Lady St. Helier CHAPTER XL Lord and Lady Arthur Russell and the "Salon" in England CHAPTER XLI The Archbishop of Canterbury--Queen Alexandra CHAPTER XLII A Scottish Legend CHAPTER XLIII A Personal Reminiscence of the Late Emperor Frederick CHAPTER XLIV I. Edward the Seventh as Prince of Wales--Personal Incidents II. Prince of Wales and King of England--The Personal Side III. As King--Some Personal and Social Incidents and Impressions Index ANGLO-AMERICAN MEMORIES {1} ANGLO-AMERICAN MEMORIES CHAPTER I NEW ENGLAND IN 1850--DANIEL WEBSTER My memories begin with that New England of fifty years ago and more which has pretty well passed out of existence. I knew all or nearly all the men who made that generation famous: Everett; Charles Sumner, "the whitest soul I ever knew," said Emerson; Wendell Phillips; Garrison; Andrew, the greatest of the great "War Governors"; Emerson; Wendell Holmes; Theodore Parker; Lowell, and many more; and of all I shall presently have something to say. Earlier than any of them comes the Reverend Dr. Emmons, a forgotten name, for a long time pastor of the little church in the little town of Franklin, where I was born, in Norfolk County, in that State of Massachusetts on which Daniel Webster pronounced the only possible eulogy: "I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachusetts; she needs none. There she is. Behold her, and judge for yourselves. {2} There is her history; the world knows it by heart." Whether the world knows it by heart may be a question. We are perhaps a little too apt to assume that things American loom as large to other eyes as to our own. But whether the world knows Massachusetts by heart or not, we know it; and the rest does not much matter. Every son of hers will add for himself "God bless her." Dr. Emmons was of the austere school of Calvinists, descending more directly from the still more austere school of Jonathan Edwards. I cannot have been more than three or four years old when I last saw him, but I see him still: tall, slight, bent, wasted; long grey locks floating loosely about his head; his face the face of an ascetic, yet kindly, and I still feel the gentle touch of the old man's hand as it rested on my baby head. And I see the imprint of his venerable feet, which it was his habit to rest on the painted wainscotting of his small, scantily furnished study.