vision of Devonshire. His local
popularity, which was great, depended mainly on the engaging and
somewhat shy simplicity of his manner, on his honesty, which was
recognized by all, and on his generosity and sound sense as a landlord.
These latter qualities had lately been made conspicuous by his
administration of those parts of his property which were now, one after
another, being quickly covered with buildings. He was no student,
however, of statistics or political theory; as a speaker his practice
had been small, and he and his advisers asked me to give what
assistance I could.

One night early in July I had, at a large ball in London, spent a most
agreeable hour with a companion who was, like myself, no dancer, in
watching and discussing with her the brilliantly lighted company. At
last, catching sight of a clock, I found myself obliged to go. "I have,"
I said, "to be at Paddington at five o'clock in the morning. To-morrow I
must speak in Devonshire to a meeting of agricultural laborers." She
expressed approval and sympathy, and I presently found myself in the
dimness of the still streets, happy in the thought that soon I should be
among the smell of meadows and listening to the noise of rooks. The
following evening at a village on Richard Mallock's property, his
political campaign was to be inaugurated, and I was to be one of the
orators.

When the time for the meeting came I found myself erect in a wagon, with
a world of apple trees in front of me and a thatched barn behind, and
heard myself discussing the program of "three acres and a cow," of which
my listeners understood nothing, and I not more than a little. Compared
with such an audience the Liberals of St. Andrews were sages. The most
intelligent of the Conservative audiences in the constituency were those
got together under the auspices of the Primrose League. But Conservatism
even with them was no more than a vague sentiment, healthy so far as it
went, but incapable of aiding them in controversy with any glib Radical
opponent. I tried again and again during the following few weeks to call
their attention to the sources from which our national wealth generally,
and most of their own food, was derived, and particularly to the
economic significance of a town such as Torquay, much of the wealth of
which had its origin in foreign countries. In dealing, however, with
these matters, I met with no response more encouraging than puzzled
smiles; but whenever, for w