Lord Leighton was a great friend to Liverpool, but we did not treat him kindly. Whenever we had any difficulty in obtaining a picture for our exhibition he was always ready to take trouble and use his influence to secure it for us. We bought from him one of the best pictures he ever painted, the "Andromeda"; the price was £3,000, and he agreed to accept the amount payable over two years. The purchase was noised abroad, but unfortunately the Council declined to confirm it. Sir James Picton was not happy in the way he submitted the proposal to the Council. Manchester immediately secured the picture. Meeting Lord Leighton a year or so afterwards I apologised to him for the action of the Council, when he most magnanimously said, "I was not troubled for myself, but for you, and it pained me when I heard that Mr. Samuelson, your deputy chairman, twice came to my house to explain matters, but his courage failed him, and he went away without even ringing the bell." Sir John Millais was appointed President of the Royal Academy in succession to Lord Leighton. It fell to me to call at his studio only a few months before he died, when he remarked: "You have in Liverpool my picture with a kick in it" (alluding to the picture of "Lorenzo and Isabella," in which the figure in the foreground is in the act of kicking a dog), and he continued, "I well remember that picture." This was spoken evidently with a sad recollection. I knew what was passing in his mind, for the late Sir Henry Tate told me that Mr. Millais painted the picture when quite a young man, for a dealer, and was to receive in payment £50. The dealer failed, and Mr. Millais found himself in great financial difficulty, when a stranger called and said, "I understand you have painted a picture for Mr. ----" (naming the dealer), and asked to look at it. He immediately bought it, giving £50, and the painter's difficulties were removed. Mrs. Fraser, the wife of Dr. Fraser, the Bishop of Manchester, told me a good story of Millais. He was painting the Bishop's portrait, and the picture had reached the stage of the last sitting. Mr. Millais' dog jumped upon the chair upon which the artist had placed his palette. The palette fell on to the floor, paint side downwards. Millais was annoyed and kicked at the dog. The situation had an amusing side which caused the Bishop to laugh heartily, whereupon Millais looked still more angry, and exclaimed, "I have painted the wrong man, I had no idea you had such a sense of humour." The picture, although an excellent likeness, represents the Bishop as a demure ecclesiastic. Those who remember him will recollect how genial and full of humour he was.