to Aberdeen to deliver the Rectorial address. He stayed at the Palace Hotel for two nights. A crowd of 2,000 people assembled at the station to receive him, and the students took the horses out of his carriage and dragged it through the streets. Underneath his windows a noisy and enthusiastic multitude assembled, and at last he was obliged to show himself. "I have to address you to-morrow, gentlemen," he said, looking down with humorous gravity on the sea of faces; "I should not like to fatigue your attention this evening." "Don't mention it." "Here's to you, Rosebery." "Go on, old boy," shouted the students, anticipating the London working-man's affectionate epithet, "Good old Rosebery," invented in the days of the first County Council. "You were kind enough," said the Lord Rector, "to give a cheer for my wife when I arrived in Aberdeen. I may say to you, gentlemen, that the only quarrel we have had was on the point that she has not been allowed to accompany me here to-day." "She'll come next time." "Send her a telegram," cried the enthusiasts; and, after wishing the distinguished guest a friendly good-night, they dispersed to the house of Professor Bain. The Professor came out, and solemnly hoped that the address they were to hear on the morrow would be of an edifying character. Next morning his lordship presided over the University Court, and when the Professors heard him observe with reference to some grievance of the time, “That is a thing which must be looked into and remedied at once," they may well have said to each other, "A Daniel come to judgment !"

There is no room in this brief biography for any kind of summary of Lord Rosebery's speeches. His subject at Aberdeen was Modern Scottish History, and the need for a chair of modern history at our various seats of learning. Several of the London papers, including The Times, published leading articles strongly supporting his view. The charming youthfulness of the speaker's appearance, style, and manner, the modesty. with which, from the first sentence, he put himself on the level of his hearers, conciliated and delighted his audience. When at the close he dwelt lovingly on the grey University, into which so much of the history of Scotland is gathered, exclaiming in the words so dear to every generation of Scotsmen, "They shall prosper that love thee," the excitement of the students was beyond control, and they sprang to their feet and cheered the Rector.

At a banquet in the evening he confessed that the address had been a terror to him for months. "Some one says a newspaper ought to be like a crouching tiger, always ready to spring. This address was my crouching tiger."

On the following day (November 6th, 1880) he was elected Lord Rector of Edinburgh, in opposition to Sir Robert Christison, by a majority of thirty-nine. He waited nineteen years for the same honour in Glasgow; for although he was a candidate in 1887, and received a majority of votes, the Chancellor, Lord Stair, ruled him out out on the ground that he had not a majority in every "nation" or electoral division. St. Andrews alone, the most Conservative of Scottish universities, has never