industry under the happy feeling that, so far as their old landlords
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