At that time Forster's friends had no suspicion that his public career was drawing to a close. He was many years younger than Mr. Gladstone, was full of vigour and of an enthusiasm that was almost youthful in its exuberance, and he seemed to have a long life of work before him. But a trivial incident revealed to me the fact that things were not as they seemed, and that this great sturdy Englishman was by no means in the state of health that men supposed. When walking in Switzerland, he had accidentally injured the nail of his great toe, and it was necessary to remove it. Forster regarded the operation as a slight one, and was anxious that cocaine should be used as an anaesthetic, so that he might, as he said to me, "have the fun" of witnessing the actual operation. When the time came, however, it was found to be a much more serious matter than Forster had supposed. The operation was performed under chloroform by an eminent surgeon, and this gentleman told me after the operation that he had discovered that Forster's health was in a very unsatisfactory condition. Indeed, this little accident was the beginning of the end, though few at the time suspected the fact. Before closing this chapter, I may make some further reference to my friend Mr. Stead. The retirement of John Morley from the P_all Mall Gazette_ had led to Mr. Stead's promotion, and he had become the virtual, if not the nominal editor of the paper. He was not long in impressing the public with the fact that a new and original force had entered English public life. "I am riding on the crest of the wave," he wrote to me one day, and such was indeed the fact. The influence of the paper which he controlled became for a time almost paramount, and Mr. Stead revelled in his power with all the zest of a schoolboy who has suddenly been called to sit on the throne of an autocrat. He calmly undertook the direction of the foreign policy of Great Britain, and ordered Ministers to do his bidding with an audacity which would have been absurd but for the fact that Ministers seemed ready to take him at his word. He it was who first advised them to the evil course of sending Gordon to Khartoum. "Sarawak the Soudan" was the cry he raised, his proposal being that Gordon should be sent to found an empire of his own on the upper Nile. Ministers yielded to his vehemence, and Gordon was sent to Khartoum, with what results everybody knows. Mr. Stead had the courage of his opinions, and he was not in the least disconcerted when he found that his advice had involved the country in the tragical and disastrous expedition for Gordon's relief. Talking to me one day at that time, he said, "John Morley told me yesterday that I ought not to be able to sleep in my bed at nights for thinking of all the men who have lost their lives over this business." If at any time in my life I had been inclined to believe in government by newspapers, I should certainly have