"Once Gladstone at luncheon was indulging in a scathing attack on the rising generation, pouring scorn on their lack of all knowledge of the classics; and in order to illustrate his point and show the lamentable ignorance that now prevailed, he suddenly turned on me. I was thirteen and at Eton, but my knowledge of the classics was nil. He asked me what the quantity was of some syllable in a quotation from Horace. I had never heard of the quotation and had no idea whether it was long or short, but as I was clearly expected to say something I said "long". He thumped the table and cried triumphantly, "That is what everyone says", and I felt like a man who has backed a winner by mistake. Then in his grand manner he continued, "But that is wrong, quite wrong; it is short, not long", and after giving very conclusive reasons for this he proceeded: "Next time you are doing Horace's Odes you will stand up and ask the master whether it is short or long, and when he replies, as he undoubtedly will, that it is long, you will say "No, sir, you are wrong", and you will repeat the reasons I have just given." I could see myself, a pallid youth of thirteen, standing up and laying a trap for the classical master, and then making a muck of the explanation. I could also foresee the quite inevitable result, which would be a sound flogging for impertinence; I never carried out the suggestion."