to their
condition--had fostered these growing evils? Could he acquit himself of
the guilt of deriving all the appliances of his ease and enjoyment, from
those whose struggles to supply them were made under the pressure
of disease and hunger? Was unconsciousness of all this, an excuse
sufficient to stifle remorse? Oh, it is not the monied wealth dispensed
by the resident great man; it is not the stream of affluence, flowing in
its thousand tiny rills, and fertilising as it goes, we want. It is far
more the kindly influence of those virtues which. And their congenial
soil in easy circumstances; benevolence, sympathy, succour in sickness,
friendly counsel in distress, timely aid in trouble, encouragement to
the faint-hearted, caution to the over-eager: these are gifts, which,
giving, makes the bestower richer; and these are the benefits which,
better than gold, foster the charities of life among a people, and bind
up the human family in a holy and indissoluble league. No benevolence
from afar, no well wishings from distant lands, compensate for the want
of them. To neglect such duties is to fail in the great social compact
by which the rich and poor are united, and, what some may deem of more
moment still, to resign the rightful influence of property into the
hands of dangerous and designing men.

It is in vain to suppose that traditionary deservings will elicit
gratitude when the present generation are neglectful. On the contrary,
the comparison of the once resident, now absent landlord, excites very
different feelings; the murmurings of discontent swell into the louder
language of menace; and evils, over which no protective power of human
origin could avail, are ascribed to that class, who, forgetful of one
great duty, are now accused of causing every calamity. If not present
to exercise the duties their position demands, their absence exaggerates
every accusation against them; and from the very men, too, who have, by
the fact of their desertion, succeeded in obtaining the influence that
should be theirs.

Owen felt this desertion sorely. Had Mr. Leslie been at home, he would
at once have had recourse to him. Mr. French, the agent, lived on the
property--but Mr. French was "a hard man," and never liked the Connors;
indeed, he never forgave them for not relinquishing the mountain-farm
they held, in exchange for another he offered them, as he was anxious
to preserve the mountain for his own shooting. At the time we speak