It is unnecessary to say more here on the question of depopulation and emigration, the question between Highland landlords and Highland tenants, the dispute as to whether large or small farms are to be preferred, and whether the Highlands are best suited for sheep and cattle or for men and agriculture. Most that has been written on the subject has been in advocacy of either the one side or the other; one party, looking at the question exclusively from the tenant’s point of view, while the other writes solely in the interests of the landlords. The question has scarcely yet been dispassionately looked at, and perhaps cannot be for a generation or two yet, when the bitter feelings engendered on both sides shall have died out, when both landlords and tenants will have found out what is best for themselves and for the country at large, and when the Highlands will be as settled and prosperous as the Lothians and the Carse of Gowrie. There can be no doubt, however, that very frequently landlords and their agents acted with little or no consideration for the most cherished old feelings, prejudices, and even rights, of the tenants, whom they often treated with less clemency than they would have done sheep and cattle. It ought to have been remembered that the Highland farmers and cottars were in a condition quite different from those in the lowlands. Most of them rented farms which had been handed down to them from untold generations, and which they had come to regard as much belonging to them as did the castle to the chief. They had no idea of lowland law and lowland notions of property, so that very often, when told to leave their farms and their houses, they could not realise the order, and could scarcely believe that it came from the laird, the descendant of the old chiefs, for whom their fathers fought and died. Hence the sad necessity often, of laying waste their farms, driving off their cattle, and burning their houses about their ears, before the legal officers could get the old tenants to quit the glens and hill-sides where their fathers had for centuries dwelt. It was not sheer pig-headed obstinacy or a wish to defy the law which induced them to act thus; only once, we think, in Sutherland, was there anything like a disturbance, when the people gathered together and proceeded to drive out the sheep which were gradually displacing themselves. The mere sight of a soldier dispersed the mob, and not a drop of blood was spilt. When forced to submit and leave their homes they did so quietly, having no spirit to utter even a word of remonstrance. They seemed like a people amazed, bewildered, taken by surprise, as much so often as a family would be did a father turn them out of his house to make room for strangers. In the great majority of instances, the people seem quietly to have done what they were told, and removed from their glens to the coast, while those who could afford it seem generally to have emigrated.