rm
conviction in the minds of many landlords that they are in no sense
trustees for the community, but that they have an absolute power over
their estates--that they can, if they like, strip the land clean of
its human clothing, and clothe it with sheep or cattle instead, or lay
it bare and desolate, let it lapse into a wilderness, or sow it with
salt. That is in reality the terrific power secured to them by the
present land code, to be executed through the Queen's writ and by the
Queen's troops--a power which could not stand a day if England did not
sustain it by overwhelming military force.

Another of the realities of the question is the no less inveterate
conviction in the tenants' mind that the absolute power of the
landlord was originally a usurpation effected by the sword. Right or
wrong, they believe that the confiscations were the palpable violation
of the natural rights of the people whom Providence placed in this
country. With bitter emphasis they assert that no set of men has any
divine right to root a nation out of its own land. Painful as this
state of feeling is, there is no use in denying that it exists. Here,
then, is the deep radical difference that is to be removed. Here are
the two conflicting forces which are to be reconciled. This is the
real Irish land question. All other points are minor and of easy
adjustment. The people say, and, I believe, sincerely, that they are
willing to pay a fair rent, according to a public valuation--not a
rent imposed arbitrarily by one of the interested parties, which
might be raised so as to ruin the occupier. The feelings of these two
parties often clash so violently, there is such instinctive distrust
between them, the peace and prosperity of the country depend so much
on their coming to terms and putting an end to their long-standing
feud, that it is still more imperatively necessary than in the
Church question, that a third party, independent, impartial, and
authoritative, should intervene and heal the breach.

There was one phrase constantly ringing in the ears of the Devon
Commissioners, and now, after nearly a generation has passed away, it
is ringing in the ears of the nation louder than ever--'_the want
of tenure_.' All the evidence went to show that the want of security
paralysed industry and impeded social progress. It seems strange that
any evidence should be thought necesary to prove that a man will not
sow if he does not hope to reap, and that he will