"His late Majesty, King Fido the Thirteenth," explained the Baron, "held the most original and admirable views on all matters connected with sovereignty, and one of these was that the life frequently led by an heir presumptive is an exceedingly bad preparation for the duties and responsibilities of monarchy. Accordingly he kept his son Fido in the very strictest seclusion from his birth upwards, supplying him with the best tutors and the most hygienic diet, but entirely prohibiting any admixture with or contamination from the world. Up to the day he came to the throne he had seen no women and only nine men in the whole course of his life."
"And may I ask how old he is?" I said.
"Thirty-five last month."
"What!" I cried.
"Yes," said the Vice-Chancellor. "It is unusual, is it not? But, on the other hand, think of all the things he must have learned! I assure you we anticipate the very best results from this experiment."
"What has he learned?" I inquired.
"As much as possible of everything; except of course such studies as would wake indecorous or unsuitable desires and ideas. His reading has been carefully selected to avoid such a catastrophe. Thus the last volume but one of the Encyclopedia Regalia had to be removed from his library, as it contained articles on 'Sapho' and 'Socialism.' But you will see him for yourself to-morrow: in the mean time, my dear Sir Hugo, I must bid you good night."
As can readily be imagined, this conversation filled me with even greater curiosity than ever to meet this remarkable prince. On the next morning my desire was gratified. I was conducted by von Spank to one of his private apartments, and there for the first time had the gratification of seeing and conversing with Fido the Fourteenth. Profound as are my feelings of respect for royalty (in which I yield to nobody), I cannot say that I was so much impressed with his Majesty at the first glance as I afterwards became on a fuller knowledge of his character. In figure he was short and inclined towards stoutness, while his countenance, though open and kindly, could scarcely be termed handsome in the usual sense. Moreover, his secluded way of life was hardly calculated to stimulate a young man to embellish nature by the aid of art and array his person to the greatest advantage. I do not wish to lay emphasis on these points, though I cannot help noting them.
His Majesty's mind, I found, was stored with the most amazing quantities of both facts and theories, while his principles were the loftiest imaginable. So far no breath of worldly wisdom, much less of cynicism, had come to ruffle his ideals, and with the utmost candor and simplicity he discoursed to me on the whole duty of a king. Of this conversation that morning I shall, however, only quote such portions as bore upon the dramatic incident I am about to narrate.
"This is an almost ideal kingdom," said his Majesty, in reply to some observation of mine. "Everything is arranged on the best principles. So many offices of state are hereditary, or practically hereditary, that they are always in the hands of the best men possible."
"Does that invariably follow, your Majesty?" I ventured to ask.
"Of course," he replied. "Is it not evident that a thing must be, much better and much more conscientiously done by a man whose ancestors have always been in the habit of doing it? That is my own idea, founded on thirty-five years' secluded study, and I think it is an improvement even on Darwin's. He says most things are hereditary; I say still more things ought to be."
His Majesty paused to receive my congratulations. Having respectfully tendered them, I further ventured to suggest,
"Your Majesty, then, assumes that your hereditary office-bearers inherit both conscience and ability?"
"Naturally. A nobleman—as most of mine are—would be ashamed to hold a position without doing the work to the very best of his ability. That is so, Baron von Spank?"
"Your Majesty, I trust, cannot be mistaken," replied the Vice-Chancellor discreetly.
"In any case," said King Fido, "I shall see that they do it. Fido insists upon every man doing his duty—an improvement on somebody else's idea."
