he is rarely seen; you may stay in his capital for months and never catch
a glimpse of him. He will not appear at meetings, that every man may be
free, nor hesitate to say his say, and abuse what he lists to abuse. The
policy is simply perfect freedom, with support and substantial assistance
to any and to every movement set on foot by the respectable men of
Fleeceborough, or by the tenant farmers round about. This has been going
on for generations; so that the personnel of the actual owner concerns
little. His predecessors did it, he does it, and the next to come will do
it. It is the tradition of the house. Nothing is left undone that a true
princely spirit could do to improve, to beautify, or to preserve.

The antiquities of the old, old town are kept for it, and not permitted to
decay; the ancient tesselated pavements of Roman villas carefully
protected from the weather; the remnants of the enclosing walls which the
legions built for their defence saved from destruction; the coins of the
emperors and of our own early kings collected; the spurs, swords,
spearheads, all the fragments of past ages arranged for inspection and
study by every one who desires to ponder over them. Chipped flints and
arrowheads, the bones of animals long extinct, and the strange evidences
of yet more ancient creatures that swam in the seas of the prehistoric
world, these too are preserved at his cost and expense. Archaeologists,
geologists, and other men of science come from afar to see these things
and to carry away their lessons. The memories of the place are cherished.
There was a famous poet who sang in the woods about the park; his
hermitage remains, and nothing is lost that was his. Art-treasures there
are, too, heirlooms to be seen behind those vast walls by any who will be
at the trouble of asking.

Such is the policy of Hodge's own prince, whose silent influence is felt
in every household for miles about, and felt, as all must admit, however