When I met Lord Derby under Lord Houghton's roof he was far too shy to make any reference to our previous correspondence, yet when the first painful embarrassment had passed away, he proved a delightful companion, and his conversation was full of the charm derived from ample knowledge and marked intellectual power. No man was simpler than he in his intercourse with those whom he trusted. It was difficult when talking to him to realise the fact that you were speaking to one who had held the great office of Foreign Secretary. Instead of laying down the law upon foreign affairs he seemed anxious to elicit the opinions of other persons, and he displayed a modest simplicity of manner which was very striking. He has been described as the incarnation of common-sense, and the general public believed him to be as full of facts and as dry as a Blue Book. In reality he had a decided love of humour, and his conversation, which was illustrated by many good stories, had all the light and shade, the warmth and colour, that good talk ought to possess. He was amazingly frank in his criticisms upon men and upon current affairs. The outer world believed him to be the most cautious and prudent of men, weighing every word before he uttered it, and never making a rash remark, whereas he was very much the reverse. I have, for example, heard him discuss the characters of European statesmen with an unreserved freedom that was startling. He was fond, too, of passing criticisms upon great political questions that staggered one by their boldness. I think it was in 1883 that he told me that, in his opinion, there was no future for the Tory party. Conservatism as a force was played out, and the destinies of the country must henceforth be controlled by Liberals. I am trying to give a slight sketch of the man as he really was, and not as he was believed to be by the contemporary public. If he was neither so wise nor so cautious as men thought him, he was infinitely more charming and more human, and all who really knew him mourned his death as a personal loss. When I first met him he was in a state of political transition. Although he had made up his mind to sever his connection with the Conservatives, he had taken no open steps in the direction of the other camp. The first time he ever entered a Liberal club, and made a political speech in it, was when I got him to go to the Leeds Liberal Club to receive an address from the members. He is one of the most distinguished of the figures I associate with Fryston and its gifted owner.