The diaries of William Gladstone, one of the greatest British prime ministers, are astonishing. Not the least astonishing part is the inhuman mental energy which allowed him after each day filled with hard and unremitting work to push himself further to record his thoughts and views in a comprehensive journal. Also fascinating is the intriguing account of this dour, moralizing man’s abiding interest in prostitutes, the trouble he took in getting to know them personally and trying, as he put it, “to save them” – a remarkably thankless task as it turned out. Can you imagine him surviving for long politically in this age of media which pants after the least hint of scandal?
There is an extract in Gladstone’s journal which is instructive. It is a detailed account of a discussion he had one day with two of his ministers about England’s forest reserves. At one point, Gladstone records, they talked about the role of the oak-tree in England’s history and went on to discuss ways and means to make sure that oak forests still flourished in England in 50 years’ time, in 100 years’ time. That is what strikes one – the determination of three old men to secure part of the nation’s heritage long generations after they were dead. What they decided would bring them no personal gain or political merit whatsoever. The resources they earmarked would bear absolutely no fruit for them.
That seems a far cry from these cynical days when, in the words of another, more recent, British prime minister, “a week is a long term in politics.” Today, what is expedient is what seems to count. What is temporarily successful is what matters most. What gathers instant popularity is