A general conversation then began, which was of not a little interest to me. The merits of our two candidates were warmly, but temperately discussed. Everybody seemed to feel that we ought to have them both among us; that our company would still be incomplete if one was elected. Black suggested that some public-spirited Academician should perform the Happy Despatch, so as to supply the convenience of two vacancies. Lord Lytton reminded us that we were doing, on a small scale, what the French Academy itself did for a few years,--from the election of Guizot to that of Labiche--namely, meeting in private to wrangle over the merits of the candidates. We laughed, and set to with greater zeal, I painting Gardiner in rosier colours as Besant advanced the genius of Hardy. While this was going on Sir Frederick Leighton joined us, listening and leaning in one of his Olympian attitudes. "I find," he said at last, "that I am able to surprise you. You are not aware that there is a third candidate." "A third candidate?" we all exclaimed. "Yes," he said; "before the hour was too far advanced yesterday, our secretary received the due notice from his Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury." "Ah! you mean for your own Academy," some one said; "as chaplain in the room of the poor Archbishop of York?" "No," Sir Frederick answered, smiling, "as a candidate for _our_ Academy, the English Academy." (And, indeed, I recollected that Leighton was one of our original members. I cannot quite recall upon what literary grounds, but he is a charming person, and a great social acquisition.) There was a pause at this unexpected announcement. "I am sorry," said Mr. Balfour at last, "that the Archbishop, whom I greatly esteem and admire, should have laid himself open to this rebuff. We cannot admit him, and yet how extremely painful to reject him. He has scarcely more claim to belong to this Academy than I have, and----" At this we all, very sincerely, murmured our expostulation, and Lord Lytton, leaning across, said: "My dear Arthur, you are our Haussonville!" "I am afraid I am more likely," he replied, "to be your Audriffet-Pasquier. But here I am, and it was none of my seeking. I am, at least, determined not to use what fortieth-power I have for the election of any but the best purely literary candidates." There was no direct reply to this, and presently we all got up and separated to prepare for the election, each of us manifestly disturbed by this unexpected news. As I was going out of the Club, I met Jebb, whom I was very glad to greet. I used to know him well, but I go so seldom to Cambridge in these days that I can scarcely have seen him since he took his doctor's degree in letters, which must be seven or eight years ago, when I came up to see my own boy get his B.A. He was quite unchanged, and as cordial as ever. The night was so clear that we decided to walk, and, as we passed into Pall Mall, the moonlight suddenly flooded the street.