ces, harping
the triad as vigorously as bard of old Britain. Commons he added out of
courtesy, or from usage or policy, or for emphasis, or for the sake of
the Constitutional number of the Estates of the realm, or it was because
he had an intuition of the folly of omitting them; the same, to some
extent, that builders have regarding bricks when they plan a fabric.
Thus, although King and Lords prove the existence of Commons in days of
the political deluge almost syllogistically, the example of not including
one of the Estates might be imitated, and Commons and King do not
necessitate the conception of an intermediate third, while Lords and
Commons suggest the decapitation of the leading figure. The united three,
however, no longer cast reflections on one another, and were an assurance
to this acute politician that his birds were safe. He preserved game
rigorously, and the deduction was the work of instinct with him. To his
mind the game-laws were the corner-stone of Law, and of a man's right to
hold his own; and so delicately did he think the country poised, that an
attack on them threatened the structure of justice. The three conjoined
Estates were therefore his head gamekeepers; their duty was to back him
against the poacher, if they would not see the country tumble. As to his
under-gamekeepers, he was their intimate and their friend, saying, with
none of the misanthropy which proclaims the virtues of the faithful dog
to the confusion of humankind, he liked their company better than that of
his equals, and learnt more from them. They also listened deferentially
to their instructor.

The conversation he delighted in most might have been going on in any
century since the Conquest. Grant him his not unreasonable argument upon
his property in game, he was a liberal landlord. No tenants were forced
to take his farms. He dragged none by the collar. He gave them liberty to
go to Australia, Canada, the Americas, if they liked. He asked in return
to have the liberty to shoot on his own grounds, and rear the marks for
his shot, treating the question of indemnification as a gentleman should.
Still there were grumbling tenants. He swarmed with game, and, though he
was liberal, his hares and his birds were immensely destructive:
computation could not fix the damage done by them. Probably the farmers
expected them not to eat. 'There are two parties to a bargain,' said
Everard, 'and one gets the worst of it. But if he was never oblig