THE PRESIDENTS ADDRESS. 201 



" A man of high degree find large estate 

 Unostentatious dwells in his old hall, 

 Well pleased when on his threshold footsteps fall 

 Of bidden guests ; and strangers coming late 

 Through the long avenues have not long to wait, 

 Whether they seek his kindness or advice ; 

 Who pulls the bell has not to sound it tvsdce ; 

 And 'gainst the poor he never bars his gate, 

 Tet cares to know his alms are well bestowed. 

 Humane, yet firm, generous as self-denying, 

 He scatters not his largess on the road ; 

 Succours in secrecy the sick and dying. 

 And builds a hospital with no intent 

 That it shall be his public monument." 



All this was true a little while ago, and I make no excuse for 

 quoting this ode from the latest volume of our tuneful poet, 

 because, although you have all heard them before, in no fitter 

 words can the memory of the modern Thane be enshrined in your 

 records. You all remember when the news that the " Old Hall " 

 had been almost entirely destroyed by fire awakened such wide- 

 spread regret among his many friends, as well as among all who 

 could appreciate the beautyof that most interesting and picturesque 

 of our county mansions. Like many others I visited the scene of 

 the catastrophe a few days after. It was sad to see the blackened 

 ruins of the house where I had once been kindly welcomed. But 

 sadder still to learn that its Lord, the benevolent old man, whose 

 frugal habits were but a contrast to his generous charity, when- 

 ever human distress appealed to him for aid, and whose kind 

 heart could hardly bear the very animals upon his property to be 

 destroyed, was watching in an adjoining house the death -bed 

 of the partner of his life. That day, in the midst of all his 

 wealth, he was literally homeless and desolate ! What had he 

 then to live for ? A new departure in life's journey at threescore 

 years and ten is hardly ]D0ssible. The next time I passed through 

 the ancient gateway, it was to see him laid beneath the stately 

 trees which overshadow alike the house which had been his home 

 through life, and the church through which he was borne to his last 

 resting place. The restored building had then risen on the ashes 

 of the old one. Closely following the lines of the ancestral dwelling 

 but new and strong, untouched by the hand of time, prepared for 

 a fi-esh career of hospitality and usefulness. May it be a type of 

 the successor into whose hands it has passed. I believe the only 



