When Lord Beaconsfield dissolved Parliament in 1880 and the collapse of the Conservative party followed, the Queen sent for Lord Granville. For the second time in his life he was invited to become Prime Minister of England; for the second time loyalty to principle bade him refuse. Had it not been for Mr. Gladstone either Lord Hartington or Lord Granville could, without doubt, have formed a strong Liberal Government; but Mr. Gladstone blocked the way; he distinctly refused to serve under either of them, and they knew that any Liberal Prime Minister, with the tremendous shadow of Mr. Gladstone in the background, must ultimately see his party shattered after himself enduring the torments of Hades. In such circumstances, the reversion of the leadership would be indeed a heritage of woe. So the two men who had borne the heat and burthen of six years of Opposition effaced themselves, and Mr. Gladstone once more came into power. Lord Granville became Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, Lord Hartington went to the India Office, and in 1882 took command at the War Office. Lord Hartington’s acceptance of office can only be regarded as a sublime piece of self-abnegation. Between Lord Granville and Mr. Gladstone there was, no doubt, some measure of affection, though I am inclined to think that even in that case it was rather prompted by a sense of political expediency and respect for the statesman’s powers than by personal love. But Lord Hartington would have been more or less than human, if after those six penitential years any spark of personal attachment had remained. Nor was he altogether a blind admirer of Mr. Gladstone’s oratory. Mr. Forster’s _mot_ about that is historic: “Mr. Gladstone can persuade most men of most things, and himself of anything.” Lord Hartington’s appreciation of his speeches was, to my mind, even better: “Mr. Gladstone could never be made to understand that people who listen to him and admire his speeches don’t necessarily agree with him.” That was exactly the impression conveyed to my mind by Mr. Gladstone’s marvellous power over language. It was my luck later in life to hear some of his most famous speeches;—to sit on the benches opposite to him when he brought in his last Home Rule Bill. The Niagara of words, the overpowering cataract of eloquence, stupefied and dismayed, but it did not convince me. In private life his conversation was amazing. Several times he did me the honour to invite me to dinner, and I often met him at other great houses; he would attack the most abstruse technical subjects in the presence of experts and sometimes laid himself open to attack; but on one of those occasions, when he had had a rather heated argument with Tyndall, who would not “take a licking,” Mrs. Gladstone came to the rescue of her lord and sent a little slip of paper to his fierce opponent, “We never contradict Mr. G.” CHAPTER XXIX 1870