<p>When Edith Bartley called the Journal last Wednesday morning to say that her husband had finally lost his long and courageous battle against cancer, my thoughts went back to my first meeting with Robert L. Bartley. That was a long time ago. In the late 1960s, Bob had dropped into the Journal's London bureau, where I was based. He was then an editorial writer in New York, barely 30 years old, but didn't seem especially thrilled in the presence of glamorous foreign correspondents.</p>
