In the days when landlords were able to live upon their estates and were content with a more or less simple country life, enlivened only by an occasional party of their friends, the country house was no inconsiderable political force. The views of its possessor, indeed, greatly influenced the neighbourhood, whilst as a rule a fairly contented tenantry followed their landlord—Whig or Tory—and voted according to his lead; besides this they took a genuine interest in everything which concerned him or his family. To-day this has ceased to be, for the rich city men or American millionaires are but seldom in touch with those living around their mansions, hired either for sport or pleasure. The modern standpoint as regards country life is well demonstrated by the remark of a lady whose husband had bought a country house, and was told that some pleasant people lived in the country-side near by. “Pleasant or not, it matters little to us,” was the retort; “we shan’t see anything of them,—we shall get our friends down from London with the fish.” Nor is such a standpoint to be wondered at when it is remembered how little a permanent resident in the country can be in touch with those whose whole life is a rush for pleasure and amusement, a habit of which they not unnaturally cannot divest themselves even when far away from town. Formerly country-house life was very quiet, perhaps even humdrum, but within the last thirty or forty years it has undergone a complete transformation. In old days the possessors were wont to reside upon their estates for the greater portion of the year, whilst the people who hire country houses merely run down for week-ends in the summer and shooting parties in the winter. The modern practice of letting one’s country house would have appalled the landed proprietors of other days when such a thing was yet undreamt of. There was then, of course, a real bond of connection (very often one of respectful sympathy) between a landlord and his tenants, which, except on a very few estates, has now quite ceased to exist. At present the majority of country squires are far too poor to resist letting their places, which are naturally regarded much in the light of a commercial asset, their sale-value for the most part consisting in their capacity for affording some city magnate or American millionaire the shooting or hunting necessary to amuse him in the intervals of a life of business and speculation. Country life, or rather short spells of it, has now become a sort of luxury of the rich; but few of any considerable means care to reside for long periods in the country, as was the case in old days when people regularly settled down there.