are concerned, their lot is one of ‘quietness and assurance for ever.’  Nowhere—­even on the high ranges about Newry, where the population is far too dense, where the patchwork cultivation creeps up the mountain side, and the hand of industry snatches a precarious return from a poor, cold, ungrateful soil, amidst desolating tempests and blighting fogs—­not even there did I notice the least trace of evictions or clearances.  No black remnant of a wall tells that where sheep now browze and lambs frisk there was once a fireside, where the family affections were cherished, and a home where happy children played in the sunshine.  This is the field of capital and enterprise; here we have an aristocracy of wealth, chiefs of industry, each of whom maintains an army of ‘hands’ more numerous than the swordsmen of Shane O’Neill when he reigned in his castle yonder on the banks of Lough Neagh.  But here also is the aristocracy of rank—­lords of ancient lineage, descended from heroes—­men who have left magnificent monuments of their creative genius.  They have not only founded great houses, but they have laid deep and broad the foundations of a social system to whose strength and beauty every age has been adding something, and which now wants only one topmost stone to make it perfect.

I read on the monument to Lord Downshire the expressive motto of the Downshire family—­Per Deum et ferrum obtinui. No family ever made better use of the power thus obtained.  The inscription states that the third marquis was ’alike distinguished for patriotism, rectitude of principle, and honesty of purpose.  Upholding his station with becoming dignity, he was also mindful of the wants of others, and practised his duties with benevolence and humility, which won the regard of every virtuous mind, adding lustre to his exalted rank.’  Although these words were engraved upon a monument by the friends and admirers of their object, they are perfectly true, and they would be equally true of the late marquis.

Lord Downshire is esteemed as the best of landlords.  He charges 33 per cent. less for his land than it is worth—­than the tenants would be able to pay.  Tenant-right on his property sells for an enormous amount.  He never evicts a tenant, nor even threatens to evict those who vote against him.  What he has done for the contentment and prosperity of his tenants, with so much honour and happiness to himself, other landlords may do with like results.  The late lord, his father, and his grandfather pursued the same course.  They let their lands at a low valuation.  They encouraged improvements—­they allowed the free enjoyment of tenant-right; but they refused to allow sub-letting or subdivision of the land.  They consolidated farms only when tenants, unable to retain small, worn-out holdings, wished to sell their tenant-right and depart.  The consequence is that there is great competition for land on the Downshire estates.  The tenant-right sells easily for 30 l. to 40 l. an Irish acre, the rent being on an average about 28 s.  If a tenant is not able to pay his way, he is let run on in arrears perhaps for two or three years.  Then he feels the necessity of selling; but the arrears are deducted, and also debts that he may owe to his neighbours, before he departs with the proceeds in his pocket.