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sister-in-law, Lady Marian Alford, who promised to meet him, as to whom else I should invite. She suggested Browning, who, she said, besides being an author of great repute, spoke French admirably. He came, was very noisy, and spoke the most abominable French. He was very unlike my foreign guest, who was silent and retiring, and in this respect unlike the majority of his countrymen. They too often resemble a young Frenchman who, coming to reside in England, received the following advice from his father: "Tu es bête et tu n'es pas beau; sois insolent, c'est ta seule chance,"-a recommendation he dutifully followed.

I also met at Balliol the poet and philosopher Mr. Matthew Arnold. The occasion was some function for which Archbishop Tait had come there on a visit. He then preached a most touching sermon, in which he referred in a very feeling manner to the events of his life since he had left 'college. The chapel was crammed, and being fatigued, I sat down on the altar steps during the service, when the congregation were standing up. On leaving the chapel Mr. Arnold whispered to me how much he admired my courage in disregarding conventionality, and that he had wished to imitate me, but as he was the son of a clergyman it was impossible. Till then I was not aware that he allowed that circumstance to constrain him. On the contrary, I admired the freedom he allowed himself in all such

matters.

The following amusing incident occurred to him once at Paris. My brother, who was President of the Council, had commissioned Mr. Arnold when a school inspector to go to France to report upon its educational system. Mr. Arnold was dissatisfied with the allowance for his travelling expenses, but as the Treasury would sanction no more, he was obliged to be content with it. I happened to be in Paris at that time, when, going to dine with a friend at the most expensive restaurant, I perceived Mr. Arnold dining alone. I went up to shake hands with him, when I was surprised to perceive the fare that was before him. It seems that he referred to this incident in a letter to his wife. He said that, having lived most abstemiously and economically during his journey, he was determined before leaving France to give himself a good blow-out. He consequently went to the most famous restaurant, where he ordered a capital repast. He added that he was rather put out by seeing me, whom he took for my brother, enter the room and look as he thought astonished at seeing what a sumptuous dinner he was eating. He added that Lord Granville must have become then convinced that the sum allowed him was insufficient for his expenses.

HOLMBURY

FROM 1870 ONWARDS

T had long been my wish to possess a home in the country, and in 1870 I was advised to buy Holmbury, in the Surrey hills, where I at present reside. My ambition had always been to live in some spot which commanded an extensive view, and at Holmbury I found one of surpassing beauty. The house stands on the slope of a high hill, which protects it from the north and east, and nearly the whole of Sussex lies before it. The beautiful outlines of the South Downs form the horizon, and the extensive plain beneath is mostly covered with woods. There was a beautiful Lady Foley who used to say that she had no doubt there were better-looking women than herself, but she had not seen one. So I say that there may be finer views in the South of England than that which I and my near neighbours enjoy in Surrey, but I have not seen one. We are of course rather jealous of each other's views, but I settle the matter by saying that every one of us thinks his own view the best. Some time ago the present Lord Tennyson paid me a visit, and on departing

told Miss Mary Boyle that he was greatly relieved by finding my view so inferior to theirs at Aldworth, On the other hand, his father, when staying here with Sir James Knowles,' who had become my tenant, was found by his host pacing up and down my terrace, exclaiming, "This view beats mine hollow." The truth is that the beauty of such an extensive view depends so much on the lights and shadows of the moment.

It was my good fortune during the first twenty years of my life at Holmbury to receive there an infinite number of most distinguished guests. I can claim little credit for it, as it was due to a variety of circumstances. My brother delighted in the place, and often came with his dear wife, the second Lady Granville, to stay with me. His genial manners and agreeable conversation, and, I may add, his political position, made people only too glad to meet him. To please him, who was fond of going to races, I gave Derby parties during some successive years. Epsom was as distant from Holmbury as from London, but the road to it was through charming country, and was not inconveniently crowded. Some of my friends drove and others rode. I rarely attended the races, but often accompanied my guests most of the way on horseback. The Spencers were generally at

I

these parties, and once the Westminsters. remember riding with the Duke nearly as far as

1 The founder and present editor and proprietor of The Nineteenth Century.

A MISUNDERSTANDING

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Epsom, and that on parting with him I called at the Rookery, that pretty house near Dorking, which was formerly occupied by the Economist Malthus, but had become the property of Mr. Fuller, with whom I had recently made acquaintance. The men were all gone to the races, but I found a number of ladies at luncheon, who civilly made room for me at their table. A land surveyor called Mr. Simpson was expected that day, and they took me for him. They consequently addressed me by that name." Mr. Simpson, may I help you to some potatoes?" or "Here is the mustard, Mr. Simpson." -Being rather deaf, I did not hear this at the time, and so did not undeceive them; but my hostess, whom I had never seen before, but who had read my card, did so, and told them my name. Upon this one of the party said that a kinsman and namesake of mine was a great friend of hers, and she would be glad if I would give her some news of him. I had to confess that, although I had heard of him, I had never seen him. I fancied that upon this all around became less cordial, until I wondered whether they took me for some swindler who had introduced himself into the house under a false name. Luckily, an old lady asked me after the lapse of some minutes whether we had not met twenty years before at Coolhurst, the residence of my relatives, Mr. and Lady Elizabeth Dickins. My reply satisfied her, and I left the house with my character rehabilitated. The thought of this little adventure made me