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comparatively new one, built by Mr. Gladstone; he does not occupy the old castle. We walked through the old massive gateway into the grounds of Hawarden Castle and got a look at the park and castle, but did not care to follow them, as some did to shake hands with them. We were glad to see the grand old man and hear his voice. The greatest man, we think, considering his wonderful versatility and commanding statesmanship in the world. He has twice held the premiership of England, and was for many years the powerful opponent of the Earl of Beaconsfield in the House
Mr. Gladstone's pew." Soon a finelooking, short, gray-haired man walks in alone; I turn round to see who is coming, and look him square in the face. I recognize him at once from his photographs. He is said to look like Daniel Webster; his bright, intelligent, piercing black eyes, is the only point of resemblance that I could see. He kept his seat during the opening services by the rector while others were standing. Soon he opened his Bible, adjusted his eyeglasses, and at the conclusion of these services got up and walked to the reading pulpit and read the first lesson in the prayer book before St. Bartholomew's day, from the Old Testament, then took his seat in front of the pulpit during the chants and the prayer, and returned and read the second lesson from the New Testament, and then walked back to his seat. His voice was clear and his step firm, not indicating his age-eighty years. When his son, the rector, Rev. S. G. Gladstone, commenced his sermon, Mr. Gladstone took his seat in front of him, and when he had finished walked to his seat again. As he walked out with Lady Gladstone, with her long train, all remained in the churchyard until they had walked some distance beyond the gate before they followed, touching their hats as they passed, he in return touching his in recognition of their attention. Lady Gladstone's train dragged through the mud-for it was raining-until some lady lifted it for her. They walked through the little town to the castle, a
Commons. His present glorious effort in behalf of poor down-trodden Ireland, to give her "Home Rule" and some measure of justice and right, will be long remembered, and the result looked for with high hopes of success by the thinking, God-fearing world. Gladstone was dressed plainly; he wore a drab-colored overcoat with a cape, a black Prince Albert coat and vest, drab-colored pantaloons with a dark wide stripe down the sides. Lady Gladstone wore a rick, black silk trimmed with lace, with a long train. Gladstone is a drawing card for the church, for notwithstanding it was a rainy Sunday, people came from Liverpool and Manchester and other places to hear him read the morning lessons.
Harwarden is pronounced by the people as if spelled "Harden, "and when we asked the way to "Hawarden," as one would naturally pronounce it, they
did not know what we meant until we asked for Gladstone's residence. As we came through the park gate to the road, a little girl came out to offer us a basket of Gladstone's chips. We took one as a memento of the visit. You can give her what you please for one. It is well known that he goes out on his grounds and chops down a tree for exercise. The chips indicated that he is no novice in swinging an axe.
Mr. Gladstone is eighty years of age, and he walks as erect and speaks with as clear a voice as a man of fifty; his large, black intelligent eyes are bright and luminous. I understand that he keeps at work upon classical studies and literary work. His "Juventus Mundi" has been out of print for some time, and instead of republishing it in its original form, Mr. Gladstone has in view, as I am told, recasting the whole book, and with the aid of other material which will take about a year's steady work to put in order, he hopes to bring out a revised edition under the title of " The Olympian Deities."
Gladstone has at Hawarden one of the finest libraries in England, consisting of 20,000 volumes. It is the regular free library of the district, too, for the owner lends his books to any one who wishes to read them personally. Any borrower could keep a book as long as he wished, but now the rule is not to keep a book longer than a month.
He is ready to take a hand in literary, scientific and theological discussions amid his cares of political life,
Irish independence and the great and burning question of disestablishment, which is agitating the people of Great Britain at this time, and which is sure to come before long. His habits are very simple. He rises about 6:30 o'clock, breakfasts on bacon and eggs, a little fish and tea, and then goes to his library to look over the newspapers. From 9 to I he receives callers; a lunch follows, and then he drives directly to Parliament. He usually dines quietly at home at 7:30 in the evening, and then returns to Parliament. Unless there is to be an important discussion, he is at home and in bed by 11 o'clock. Mr. Gladstone has a fondness for his old clothes, as any one would judge, to see him come into church with his old-fashioned, smooth-worn garments. When new ones are bought for him his wife has to resort to diplomacy to make him wear them. When he speaks in Parliament he loosens his collar, turns up his wristsbands and unbuttons his coat. His gestures become exceedingly vigorous as he warms up; but I was more interested in him as he read the simple morning lessons of the Bible in the little Hawarden church, than in hearing him speak in the House of Commons. Gladstone, it is said, is threatened with insomnia, but steadily refuses to use narcotics, which Mrs. Gladstone urges him to take.
After a tour through rare old Chester, we attended service in the evening at the Chester Cathedral, which was so full that we were obliged to stand part
of the time. Most of the attendants seem to be the common people, and we have not seen such an attentive audience since we left home.
We are glad to get to Liverpool and find our steamer ready to sail tomorrow. We return here after just three months' absence, in splendid condition, after having visited so many places of rare interest in Europe and
Africa, passing through a great variety of climate, yet coming out of it rested and recuperated, without missing a connection anywhere or omitting a good, hearty meal. How impatient one is to get home when his journey is over. The hours seem long while we are waiting.
THE COLORADO MIDLALD RAILWAY.
THE memorable struggle for the right of way through the Grand Canon of the Arkansas, or the Royal Gorge as it is now befittingly called, between the Denver & Rio Grande and the Santa Fe railways, would not have been so bitter and prolonged, or may not have transpired, had the belief not then obtained that in no other way than through such river-avenues could the locomotive feel and find its way across the Continental Divide. A proposition made then to run a "Broad Gauge Line from Plains to Peaks" would have been deemed preposterous.
The building of the Denver & Rio Grande, even at first as a narrow gauge road, and along the eastern base of the Rockies, was the beginning of that railway system which led to the rapid development of this mountainous region. That is the Pioneer Railway
Liverpool, England, 1889.
ITS BEGINNING, AND FIRST PRESIDENT.
F. C. SESSIONS.
of Colorado. of Colorado. While the mine-prospector was out upon the mountains, wild and bare, hunting for gold, silver, iron and coal, and finding them, the Locomotive was daringly following him. The prospector's story will ever be one of interest and often thrilling—such as, for instance, Colonel Gillespie, a pioneer of Aspen, tells of the discovery of the Mollie Gibson, and then loading burros with ore, driving them eighty. miles across the mountains to the nearest railway terminus, and returning with the same mule-train loaded with camp supplies. This over and over again. Hardships? If ever one. class of men rather than another, suffer hardships in earning their daily bread-it is the Prospector.
Having found the object of his persistent and often painful search, then the question arose, how shall a market
be obtained for it? This question was answered for years, so far as the magnificent mining camp of Aspen was concerned, by the method adopted by Gillespie and others-until the Colorado Midland Railway found its way from Colorado Springs across the mountain barriers to that silver realm.
The Colorado Midland Railway Company, or, the Pike's Peak Route, was incorporated in November, 1883, for the purpose of building and operating a railway and telegraph line from Colorado Springs to Leadville, and thence west through the mineral regions of Pitkin County, and the rich agricultural districts tributary to the Grand and White Rivers. Of this Company Mr. Joseph F. Humphrey of Colorado Springs, was the first president. Reference to a copy of the prospectus issued by that Company will assure any reader of the intelligence, zeal and ability with which the first step was taken in founding this railway. The estimates made, as to cost of construction, expenses of management and anticipated returns, both as to actual receipts and development of the country penetrated, have more than been fulfilled.
A well informed writer says: Although great enterprises and marvelous works of engineering within the boarders of the State have not been few, yet there has been no great enterprise started in Colorado since she has had a State history that has attracted (and justly so) so much attention as the Colorado Midland. Scarcely had
the news of the organization of the Company been received throughout the whole State, before the announcement came that the contracts had been let for the building of 250 miles of the road through the most mountainous part of the State. The contractors, with the energy and push characteristic of Coloradoans, were not to be outdone by the Company, which was leading the way, but with all possible speed and thoroughness they went to work in the mountain fastnesses in a way that would appall the average railroad builder of the East. Without looking at the country which the road opens up, but looking only at the great work so well accomplished in so short a time, is it a wonder that the Colorado Midland has attracted so much attention on every hand, and that the eyes of not only the people of Colorado, but of many far beyond its borders are resting upon it?
If you will pick out a scenic route through the Rocky Mountains 250 miles long, and divide it into sections of about thirty miles each, and have the scenery of each section totally different in character from the scenery of the preceeding or succeeding section, and no two sections alike, you will have a faint idea of the general scenic effect of the country through which the Midland passes. It is no exaggeration to say that for beauty, grandeur, magnificence and diversity of scenery the Colorado Midland cannot be equaled by any 250 miles of road in the country. From one end of