ood-morning."

At the General Election of 1857 he lost his seat for Stoke. "Poor
Freddy," writes his brother, Lord Granville, "is dreadfully disappointed
by his failure in the Potteries. He was out-jockeyed by Ricardo."
All who knew "poor Freddy" will easily realize that in a jockeying
contest he stood no chance. In 1859 he was returned for Bodmin, this
time by the good offices, not of relations, but of friends--Lord
Robartes and Lady Molesworth--and he retained the seat by his own
merits till Bodmin ceased to be a borough. Twice during his
Parliamentary career Mr. Gladstone offered him important office,
and he declined it for a most characteristic reason--"I feared it
would be thought a job." The gaps in his Parliamentary life were
occupied by travelling. As a young man he had been a great deal
on the Continent, and he had made what was then the adventurous
tour of Spain. The winter of 1850-1851 he spent in India; and in
1856 he accompanied his brother Lord Granville (to whom he had
been "precis-writer" at the Foreign Office) on his Special Mission
to St. Petersburg for the Coronation of Alexander II. No chapter in
his life was fuller of vivid and entertaining reminiscences, and
his mind was stored with familiar memories of Radziwill, Nesselrode,
and Todleben. "Freddy," wrote his brother, "is supposed to have
distinguished himself greatly by his presence of mind when the
Grande Duchesse Helene got deep into politics with him."

A travelling experience, which Freddy Leveson used to relate with
infinite gusto, belongs to a later journey, and had its origin in
the strong resemblance between himself and his brother. Except that
Lord Granville shaved, and that in later years Freddy Leveson grew a
beard, there was little facially to distinguish them. In 1865 Lord
Granville was Lord President of the Council, and therefore, according
to the arrangement then prevailing, head of the Education Office.
In that year Matthew Arnold, then an Inspector of Schools, was
despatched on a mission to enquire into the schools and Universities
of the Continent. Finding his travelling allowances insufficient for
his needs, he wrote home to the Privy Council Office requesting
an increase. Soon after he had despatched this letter, and before
he could receive the official reply, he was dining at a famous
restaurant in Paris, and he chose the most highly priced dinner of
the day. Looking up from his well-earned meal, he saw his official
chief,