amount it would cost to bury them in case they died under a bush or ditch after the dilapidation of their homes). Once removed to Quebec or to the bottom of the Atlantic (it matters not which), there is an end of trouble to both landlord and tenant. In Canada the tenant cannot fare worse than in Ireland (for worse he could not), and he may fare better. At the bottom of the sea he is safe, and provided for, for all time to come. In either case he is out of the landlord’s sight, and out of the sight of all to whom a knowledge of his treatment might suggest misgivings as to their own future. To the landlord who ousted him, his personal service as an actual slave would be as useless as that of Tacitus’s ruined gamester would be to the successful one who had won him and sold him. He would be but an incumbrance--a lump of dead stock--an incubus upon the soil! His presence would be but a reproach to his landlord, and curse to himself! To get rid of him, then,--to dispose of him anyhow, or by any means, that will only get him out of the way,--is the one thing needful. Well, Tacitus has shown us how the lucky gamesters of his day got rid of their fleeced victims in Germany. Against his case we fear not to put the Irish “clearers” and the British farm-“consolidators” of our day, being perfectly assured that the Saxons of the present day will be found to excel those of Tacitus’s day, or any other of the old German tribes, in the art of slave-making, as much as we excel the old Romans themselves in road-making, shipbuilding, money-grubbing, military manslaughtering, or any other art or science.