[226] On leaving office he drew up a short paper entitled, “Results of Postal Reform,” a copy of which appears in the Appendix. [227] He was, indeed, never likely to err as once did the unpopular Postmaster-General who summoned to his presence the head of one of the departments to give an explanation of some difficult matter that was under consideration. The interview was bound to be lengthy, but the unfortunate man was not invited to take a chair, till Rowland Hill, who was also present, rose, and, by way of silent protest against an ill-bred action, remained standing. Then both men were asked to sit down. [228] “Life,” ii. 411-414. [229] “Life,” ii. 363, 400. [230] It is well to reproduce these remarks of one who could remember the old postal system, because among the younger generations who know nothing of it, a belief seems to be prevalent that the plan of penny postage was merely an elaboration of the little local posts. Gladstone was thirty when the great postal reform was established, and was therefore fully qualified to speak of it as he did. [231] His love for “the Queen of all the Sciences” was gratified one cloudless day in the late autumn of his life by following through his telescope the progress of a transit of Mercury, which he enjoyed with an enthusiasm that was positively boyish. An early lesson in astronomy had been given him one wintry night by his father, who, with the little lad, had been taking a long walk into the country. On their return, young Rowland, being tired, finished the journey seated on his father's back, his arms clasped round the paternal neck. Darkness came on, and in the clear sky the stars presently shone out brilliantly. The two wayfarers by and by passed beside a large pond, in which, the evening being windless, the stars were reflected. Seeing how admirable an astral map the placid waters made, the father stopped and pointed out the constellations therein reproduced, naming them to his little son. The boy eagerly learned the lesson, but his joy was somewhat tempered by the dread lest he should fall into what, to his childish fancy, looked like a fathomless black abyss. Happily, his father had a firm grasp of Rowland's clinging arms, and no accident befell him. [232] “Life,” ii. 401.