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THE EXAMINER.

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attempt an apology for the practice, by representing that the * deer-shootings’ yielda rental equal to that frou sheep-farming, and, besides, give employment to large numbers of men as keepers. This argument, which could with equal propriety be used in vindication of gaming-houses, is too ridiculous for criticism. On the spet, the new process of turning arable and pasture lands into a wilderness is far from being popular. Houses and hamlets are eradicated, farmers of all sorts disap- pear, and long-established roads through the glens are ruthlessly shut up; and any one who, on business or pleasure, attempts to pursue their half-obliterated track, is exposed to challenge and litigation. As yet, the great landowners who indulge in these odd fancies have encountered only public sarcasm and reproof—a species of bombardment which they endue with magnanimous soo] ness.

Besides the enforested and sheep-pasturing portion of the Highlands, there still exist a number of districts in which something like the old small-farm and croft- ing systems prevail; and after looking at these, the mind is almost brought to admit that it would be better for the country that the Highlands should be peopled with grouse and deer, than with human creatures who draw out existence in what must be called the wretch- edness of barbarism.

Fort-William is a small town at the opening of seve- ral valleys pursuing an easterly direction, and for the most part pastoral. In the low grounds, cultivation is

rsued on a limited scale, while the hills around—the

raes of Lochaber, as they are locally termed—are de- voted to purposes of pasturage. Interspersed with these varieties of surface, we may observe pretty considerable tracts of moss, black, miry, and, in present circumstances, useless for anything but to furnish fuel to the inhabitants. About this district, from the foot of Ben Nevis to Glen Spean and Glen Roy, we wandered about fora few days, and took the liberty of noting the condition of the cot- tagers. In this quarter we are in the country of the Macdonalds, one of the most gallant of the clans, whose descendants, till the present hour, though altered in position, retain many traditional recollections of their ancestors. Several owners of property hereabouts, as in many other parts of the Highlands, are, however, English successors, by purchase, of what once belong- ed to old native families. The extensive estate of In- verlochy, which lies immediately to the east of Fort- William, is the property of an English nobleman, whose father purchased it soime years ago, on the insolvency of its former owner, the Marquis of Hantly. Regard- ing the general aspect and condition of the Inverlochy estate there has been some unpleasent controversy. Mr. Somers, a gentleman of the press, in connection with the‘ North British Mail,’ having, after personal in- quiry, made various statements, unsatisfactory to the noble proprietor,* his account of the state of affairs was impugned as untrue and unjustifiable. I pronounce no opinion on the special matters in dispute, but I lament to say that the condition of many cottages net only on the estate of Inverlochy, but onthat of Gien Spean, are so extremely, though not puculiarly bad, as to be soine- what ofa scandal to the age.

In describing the human habitations which Jie scat- tered about these wastes as ‘cottages,’ we employ the only term which the English language admits of. But to what is generally understood as a cottage they bear very little resemblance. In travelling by a cross path along a bare hillside, you suddenly observe smoke issuing from certain holes in certain lumps of stone and turf. These lumps are the dwellings of the small farmers and crofters; and a number of them together forms the High!and hamlet or clachan. {n the midst of a struggling clachan we one day stopped our convey- ance and alighted ; and pioneered by our obliging con- ductor—a Macdonald, who introduced us in Gaelic— we stepped into one of the cottages. On opening the door, the apartment we were ushered into was that devoted to the cattle; but these were not at home, though the damp mud floor was strewn with their litter and refuse. On our left was a partition formed of wattle, and this imperfect screen was all that seperated the biped from the quadruped inhabitants. Passing through a door in the wattle, we were in the family

rtment. On one side was a shelf with a few articles of earthenware, and below it was a wooden chest hold- ing the Sunday clothes; on the floor were two or three stools and a chair, which, with an iron pot and a deal table, were the whole furniture. ‘There was no grate or chimney. The fire was on the bare floor, and the gmoke from it curled in wreaths round the apartment, glazing every rafter with a jet-black japan, and finding exit by an opening in the roof, or by the door and win- dow—or, more correctly, hole in the wa!l; for the aper-

ture answering asa window had no glass. Over the

fire there dangled achain, to which the pot might be

—_

he wonder toa Lowlander is, how people can live in| such hovels; but the human being has a marveilous. power of accomodating himself to circumstances. I he poor Highlander has never known any better, and ifhe did wish to have a good house over lis head, he would require to build it at his own cost, and be com- pelled to leave it at the end of bis lease. Thus inse- curity as toa return for outlay is substantially the reason why the Hiyhland, like the Irish simall farmers, are so poorly lodged. In the lowlands of Scotland, the landlords, almost without exception, build excellent stone and slated houses for their tenants; but except on the estates of the wealthiest proprietors, this very proper practice does not appear to prevail in the High- lands. When asked how they contrive to exist with any ae of health or comfort in their wretched turf’ huts, the Highlanders seldom fail to ascribe much to the beneficial influence of the peat smoke. How far this opinion rests on any sound principle | am unable to say ; perhaps it is not unworthy of the investigation of sanitarians,

In the general economy of Highland farming, such as we see hereabouts, there is room for vast improvement. By a judicious application of capital, great patches of the lower-lying mossy lands might be reclaimed and cultivated, by which luxuriant green crops would be raised for the winter food of cattle. At present, there is @ melancholy waste and misapplication of natural resources—no proper fences, no rotation of crops, while the apportionment of farms is very defective. We found in full operation an extraordinary species of com- munism, which [ shailleave to be described in the lan- guage of Mr. Somers. ‘Each township or hamlet is literally a joint-stock company of farmers, the members ef which are bound, jointly and severally, to the land- lord for payment of the reut. The arable part of the farm, rented by one of these clubs, or companies, is divided into ridges of equal size ; and these again are divided equaliy among the members; for, as the people argue, in order to secure a fair division of the soil, it is necessary to cut it up into small sections, and set aside a section to each family consecutively, till the whole are exhausted. A family will thus have as many as six or seven ridges spread over all parts of the farm, and each of them surrounded by similar stripes belonging to his co-tenants. The hill or pasturage of the farm is held strictly in common. Every member of the hamlet contributes an equal number of the sheep and cattle necessary to stock the hill; a shepherd is employed at the common expense to tend the flocks; and one of the namber, in whorm the little community has confidence, isappointed annually to sell the stock requiring to be taken to market, the proceeds being applied to the pay- ment of the rent, and the overplus, if any, divided equally among the co-tenants. The rent of the townships vary from £150 to £350 per annum, being at the rate of fro:n £7 to £20 for each tenaut. The stock of sheep range from 600 to 2000 on some farms; and each family has seldom less than three milch cows. If any of the ten- ants proves indolent, wasteful, and unable to pay his share of the rent, his neighbours are secured against loss by his stock; and should he turn out incorrigible, they can expel hin from the club: but in the event of any one being disabled, by accident or sickness, so that he cannot cultivate his part of the farm, his co-tenants join together and do it for him gratuitously. The claims of widows in this respect particularly are respected, it being a fixed rule that no widow be put out of the club, but that all Jend her a helping hand till her own family are able to take the duty off their shoulders. There is thus in these simple communities an active and bene- volent co-operation, which saves individual members from the caiamities which befall poor families in more artificial states of society.’

From what I heard on the spot, there is no reason to discredit an observation of Mr. Somers in reference to a farm of this class. ‘The produce of the farm is insufficient to maintain the frmilies upon it, and the attention of the tenants is distracted from the cultiva- tion of the soil in a too often fruitless search for day labour, to eke out the r inadequate resouces. Driving sheep to the south isa common employment for this class of men; and it takes them away from their farms at the ume when their crops are arriving at maturity, and when their undivided attention is most necessary to secure the fruits of their labour from the ravages of a fickle and boisterous climate.’ In other words, the pro- prietors of these lands do not get rents out of the pro- duce, but from the employment of their tenants in work, altogether apart from the farms. Affection for the place of their birth, and an unwillingness to leave it for more favoured climes, cause them to undertake obli- gations unwarranted by the peculiar circumstances in which they are placed. What should we say of the saneness of a shopkeeper who proposed to pay his rent

hooked ; and half up towards the roof the chain passed through a disk like a pot lid, the object ef which was to prevent the props of rain which descended through I chimney-opening from falling into the fire, or into the fuod which was dressing upon it. Another wattle par- tion divided the apartment from a dark den-tike place, in which I caughta glimpse of 4 bed. _And this was, the house of a farmer, as he must be called.

not from his receipts in trade, but from the wages of himself or daughter employed in a seperate e8tablish- ment? Yet ona footing of this nature stands the rent roll of many Highland as also many Irish proprietors. — It may perhaps be said by way of offset, that if the land which now forms a club-farm were let in a mass to one

z oo mr RES eRe vements lately effected on the properties of Lord Lovat, the Dake of Richmond, and other spirited landlords, we felt as ifin a new world. The neat cottages, with the well-kept patches of land about them,on the Richmond (lately the ill-managed Gordon) property, presented a scene of rural beauty and comfort which contrasted strangely with what he had witnessed on the west side of the country.

It is usual to impute much of the misery of the High- lands to the habitual indolence of the people. We may grant that they possess no earnest spirit of industry.— But in justice, we should view the inhabitants of thess remote solitudes as the wreck of a primitive, uninstruct- ed, and, it may be added, unfortunate race, Faithful, kindly in disposition, submissive to law, and with strong religious impressions, they may be considered to form the raw material out of which much good might be wrought. For the greater part, however, in the hands of absentee landlords, me from their own extrava- gance or that oftheir predecessors, they have been either expatriated, or left to carry on a hopeless contest with nature. In some quarters, their whole means of livelihood is the produce of a patch of potato ground ; and by way of rent, they give their personal labour at any time and to any extent it may be required—a species of serfdom revolting to modern ideas, and which is little calculated to inspire a love of regular industry. ‘How natural must it be,’ says the authority ae quoted, ‘ for the Highland cotter to detest Jabour, when he feels himself bound hand in foot for the petty privi- lege of planting a few barrels of potatoes ! If the High- land proprietors were to reside on their properties, and set about the improvement of their lands and the hu- msanising of their tenantry, accusations as to the indo- lence would soon be unheard of. The physical and social improvements now going on in the Lewis under Mr. Mathison, show what may be effected in meliorat- ing the condition of the Highlands and Islands.

The longest lane hasa turning. Highland misma- nagement, by the exposure connected with the late fa- mine and other circumstances, seems likely to undergo some modification, A change in views connected with store-farming deserves especial notice. Jn the intreduc- tion of large sheep farms sixty to eighty years ago much suffering was inflicted. Had the new order of farmers settled in the Highlands with their families, the change would have been only from a Celtic to an Anglo-Saxon population. In too many instances, however, these far- mers put their property under the charge of shepherds, and lived themselves in the south; so that there were not only absentee lendlords, but absentee farmers.— Of the cruelty of this perfected system of annihilating « settled population nothing need be said. What is im- moral seldom comes to any good. ‘The system is at length discovered to be econamically mischievous ; for not a shilling of capital can ever accumalute in a coun- try inhabited only by sheep and salaried assistants.—I am glad to learn that, impressed with this conviction, the Duke of Sutherland is beginning to divide his large into small farms, and lease them to capitalists, who will give the country the benefit of their presence. When the system of enforesting has run its course, let us hope that it will come to as creditable a termination.

AN UNKNOWN REPUBLIC.

Among the higher recesses of the Pyrenees there exist two small republics, having scarcely any dependence on, or connection with, the monarchy of Spain on the one hand, or the newly-got-up republic of France on the other. One of these—Andorre—is not known to the world; but the other, which is of considerable less extent and population, may never probably have been heard of in England. Goust, as this obscure hittie commonwealth is termed, has its locale at the southern extremity of the valley of Ossau, or ratherthe track which leads to it there begins. ‘This track winds along the face of a steep, through forests, rocks, and clouds, till the stranger, faint and dizzy, begins to faney that he is in the nightmare, climbing some miraculous bean-stalk, But courage! Goust is no mushroom power : it is full of the ease and dignity of years; and at every step you find traces of bygone generations. Here the corner of the cliff is rounded ; there a rustic seat invites you to rest for a moment; and again the hewn trunk of a tree affords you passage over some mountain torrent, Pleasant is it for the wayfaring man to pause in such a place; to feel the sunbeams showering upga him through the trees; to drink of the sparkling waters, with hie hand fora cup; to lean over the precipice, and wateh them leaping in mad joy into a bottomless abyss; to listen to their voice as it mingles with the singing of birds; and to see in imagination the distant world below, with all its paltry cares and mean ambitions. And more than pleasant for him it is to resume the journey after sucha pause, to stride forward like a giant refresh- ed, and to feel that his spirit belongs to that upper region to which his feet are hastening.

‘he apex of the mountain is at length sufficiently near to be discerned above your head, for you are how between three and four thousand feet from the level of

farmer with capital, a better rent would be paid, and,}

besides the farmer would have an overplus profit. Be,

on the Famine of 1847.’ By!

*é ters from the Highlands, ‘ : +" y* London: Siunpkin and!

Robert Semers. 1 vol. duedecimo.

Marshall. This work, embyaciug mach grap! erusal.

wei! worthy of peruss),

hic descriptioa, is' only the more exposes itself to reprehension. r aie. Late ; | On going eastward, and seeing the extensive impro-,domain of Goust; and in the midst of these ieee ale

. . . . ' itso. The negligence which avowedly tolerates end,

. ° ow a * : i maintains a condition of things revolting to decency| and humanity, notto say dangerous to national safety,|

the valley, and a beautiful and yet fantastic scene it presents. Instead of the naked rocks you might lave expected, a green coronal hangs upon the peal ; and this, as you approach, resulyes into trees and bushes, and gardens and fields, forming a little fairy oasis, be longing more to the airthan the earth, This is the

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