e you will take my blessing, which I give from my
heart.--Yours most truly, JOHN H. CARD. NEWMAN.

So the perpetual whirl of life revolves, "by nature an unmanageable
sight," but--

Not wholly so to him who looks
In steadiness; who hath among least things
An under-sense of greatest; sees the parts
As parts, but with a feeling of the whole.(337)

Such steadiness, such under-sense and feeling of the whole, was Mr.
Gladstone's gift and inspiration, never expending itself in pensive
musings upon the vain ambitions, illusions, cheats, regrets of human
life--such moods of half-morbid moralising were not in his temperament--but
ever stirring him to duty and manful hope, to intrepid self-denial and
iron effort.

Chapter IV. Eastern Question Once More. (1876-1877)

The dead have been awakened--shall I sleep?
The world's at war with tyrants--shall I crouch?
The harvest's ripe--and shall I pause to reap?
I slumber not--the thorn is in my couch:
Each day a trumpet soundeth in mine ear,
Its echo in my heart.

--BRYON.

I

Preserved in the Octagon is a large packet of notes on "Future
Retribution," and on them is the docket, "_From this I was called away to
write on Bulgaria._" In the spring of 1876 the Turkish volcano had burst
into flame. Of the Crimean war the reader has already seen enough and too
much.(338) Its successes, in Mr. Gladstone's words, by a vast expenditure
of French and English life and treasure, gave to Turkey, for the first
time perhaps in her bloodstained history, twenty years of a repose not
disturbed either by herself or by any foreign power. As Cobden and Bright
had foreseen, as even many European statesmen who approved the war on
grounds of their own had foreseen, Turkish engagements were broken, for
this solid reason if for no other that Turkey had not in the resources of
her barbaric polity the means to keep them.

Fierce revolt against intolerable misrule slowly blazed up in Bosnia and
Herzegovina, and a rising in Bulgaria, not dangerous in itself, was put
down by Turkish troops despatched for the purpose from Constantinople,
with deeds described by the British agent who investigated them on the
spot, as the most heinous crimes that had stained the history of the
century. The consuls of France and Germany at Salonica were murdered by
the Turkish mob. Servia and Montenegro were in arms. Moved by these
symptoms of a vast