real restrictions to its application to agriculture; the only drawback is, that at present it will not pay to invest it in the soil. The returns are not quick enough. It may not, however, be uninstructive to contemplate the possible position of the landlord of the future. If the legislation desired by the tenant farmers were to be carried to its logical conclusion, the landlord would be reduced to a lay figure with a rentcharge on the estate. Under the old system of farming the tenant divided the whole produce of the farm into four parts: one to pay rent, one for labour, one to live on, and the fourth to put away, unless, as too often happened, this last part was swallowed up in the payment of interest on borrowed capital. Such a division as this seemed to indicate that a farm was much more profitable than generally supposed; and the landlord's share of the produce, considering that the largest part of the capital then invested was his, i.e. the latent capital of the soil, appeared scarcely proportionable. This inequality has increased rather than decreased, for the yield is certainly very much larger, yet the share of the landlord still remains an arbitrary amount, very little indeed if the average produce in meat alone is to reach 57. per acre. The contemplated tenant-right legislation will still further reduce the landlord's interest in the farm; in fact, he will have nothing whatever to do with it, except to receive the rent. He will have practically no power over it, either legally or morally. At present it is an object with him to see that the tenant does not permit the farm to depreciate in value. The lease or yearly agreement is drawn up upon that principle, with special clauses to prevent the exhaustion of the soil; and his agents and solicitors are constantly on the watch to see that nothing of the kind takes place. But under a tenant-right Act, the landlord has no object except to receive his rent. He would know that if the tenant depreciates the value of the farm, the amount of that depreciation will be fixed by arbitration, and the tenant will have to recoup him. On the other hand, if the tenant increases the fertility of the soil, he knows that he will have to compen sate him for these improvements, and to do so is exactly equivalent to a diminution of the rent. In other words, it acts like a graduated scale: if the tenant under-farms, the landlord is compensated and receives the equivalent of a higher rent; but if the tenant over-farms, the landlord has to compensate him, ie. to do what amounts in practice to taking a lower rent. In fact, it is a premium to the landlord to get his land under-farmed; yet this is put forward as a certain method of doubling the meat supply! A more cumbrous method of modifying the position of the landlord can scarcely be conceived. It is based upon the theory of rent. Now under modern conditions it would appear that rent, in the present acceptation of the term, had much better be abolished altogether. It would be presumptuous to attempt to lay down. an exact and complete plan for the solution of a question so complicated, and which must evidently undergo many changes. But some general idea may be safely indicated. the first place, then, the landlord should retain the full and complete possession of the soil. It is nonsense to talk of tenant-right as a right, and to deny the landlord, because he is a landlord, and for nothing else, his right. Be it observed, that if the tenant has obtained his right by ten years' occupation, the landlord has obtained his often through as many generations. The promoters of this new right are very anxious to introduce commercial principles into the matter; but what would be thought in In town society if an Act were passed at the instance of lodgers or tenants enabling them to retain possession of houses and to defy the real owner? It looks very much like a scheme for the gradual absorption, not to say confiscation, of the land by the tenants. But, while retaining the landlord's full possession, perhaps it might answer to make him a partner receiving a share which fluctuated with the losses or profits of the concern. This might be peculiarly suitable if any such developments as the agricultural company described above should come into existence. Let the landlord receive a certain fixed sum under all conditions, whether of profit or loss-amounting to a percentage say of one and a half per cent. upon his latent capital-upon the value of the soil, which he invests in the speculation. If the land was worth 60,000l., this would be a fixed share of say 1,000l. per annum, equal to a low rent. Then, over and above this, let him receive a per-centage on the receipts of the tenants, which would produce a larger or smaller sum according as the year was one of profit or loss, and according as the land was well or ill cultivated. Such a plan would make it the obvious interest of the landlord to get his land as highly cultivated as possible, and might perhaps induce him to invest cash capital in the soil, a very great advance upon the present system; there would be no necessity whatever for compensatory legislation, and it would be a natural in preference to a forced solution of the question. No stronger sign of the break-up of the old system of farming can be adduced, than the tendency to specialising. There are farms which are entirely occupied with the production of milk. The tenant of a dairy farm finds himself near station on a great trunk line to London. The cost of labour in a making butter and cheese is something considerable, especially if, as is often the case now-a-days, his wife comes from a better class, a higher social circle, and has no traditionary aptitude for the dairy. The returns are almost immediate-they fulfil the modern demand for small profit and quick returns-and there is a very small margin of loss. He therefore turns his attention to milk, and gradually eliminates all animals from his stock that do not give a good supply. The whole economy of the farm, the amount of hay harvested, and so on, is all directed in this one groove, towards this one special object. The farm becomes specialised as a milk-farm. In other districts where there is down-land, neither very fertile when broken up into arable, nor suitable for grazing, sheep are the staple, and all the energies of the place are concentrated upon them. Such a district is the Cotteswold of Gloucestershire, where there is not only a special form of farming, but a speciality in the production, i.e. the well-known Cotteswold sheep. Other farms, again, are entirely devoted to meat production, to grazing or stall-feeding; and of late there have been instances in which not a single animal has been kept on a large arable farm, the object being to grow food for the stall-feeders, or corn. work on these farms is done almost entirely by steam, and exhaustion of the soil prevented, first, by extremely deep cultivation, and next by the use of vast quantities of artificial manure. To judge by statistics, these gentlemen make a very good thing of it. This tendency to specialise farms shows very plainly the altered and increased demand, and the efforts being made to meet it-efforts which may possibly result in unexpected future combinations, more improbable at present than an agricultural joint-stock company. The It would seem as if the farmers as a body can effect very little to ameliorate or alter their condition, or the circumstances which surround them. They depend almost entirely upon the mood of the population: if that mood is for meat, they must change their arrangements to supply it; if the cry were corn, they could not resist it. It follows that their trade com binations-if they may be called by that name-are very powerless. Their feeble cohesion, the want of the union of many in the idea of one, is aptly shown in the chambers of agriculture which were to do so much and have effected so little. The utmost the most strenuous and enthusiastic member of a chamber can assert that they have accomplished is, that they have enlightened the public mind to some extent, that they have introduced a Bill into Parliament, and that the Government have once or twice lent half an ear to their deputations. They have achieved nothing practical-not even the suppression of the importation of live stock, and with it contagious diseases, which at one time menaced their very existence. As to enlightening the public, that public has a grave suspicion that the chambers are very one-sided in their discussions. That would, however, matter but little as far as the obtaining an end was concerned; but they are not only one-sided, they are not one-sided enough. If politics are eschewed, which would have given them a much more vigorous life, let a pecuniary interest be called to their assistance. If the subscription were 51. or even 10l. per annum, they might do something yet, and the new class of farmers who are gradually supplanting the old would not hesitate to pay that amount if they saw a closely compacted body of men sternly bent on an object. But some of them now only require a 58. yearly subscription from their members. What can be expected for that? Who can expect to coerce the Government by the expenditure of one penny farthing per week? We hear from time to time of the immense crops yielded by new soil broken in America; of corn sown thirty times a in succession, and yet still producing heavily. The chambers might profitably employ their money (if they have enough, which is doubtful) in causing an analysis and careful enquiry into these extraordinary statements to be made. Perhaps the most solid advantage they have afforded the tenant farmer has been that of the analysation of manures, at a very low charge, thus securing them from imposition. Other than that it is difficult to see what influence they have exerted upon the future farm. The real pioneerse of progress have been isolated gentlemen, who happen to combine in themselves capital and ingenuity. These have made the experiments, sustained the heavy preliminary losses, and their results now give us some data for predicting what may be done. Their conclusions cannot be adopted in full, but the service they have ren- t dered agriculture is incalculable. It is just possible that the vexed question of capital and labour may find a portion of its solution in the future of agriculture. The tenantright agitation is to some extent very similar to that supported by the labouring classes, and an attempt to meet the one will in some degree tend to meet the other. The tenant is the labourer; the landlord represents the capitalist. The tenant, it is true, has capital too; but that capital is the equivalent of the tools of the labourer. If he finds his own tools, the labourer invests a certain proportion of his capital. In the development we have contemplated of an agricultural company, a share in the concern was not given to the artisans or la bourers; but that would not pre f T t 0 clude their having a considerable plot of ground attached to their houses, to be cultivated by themselves. For the cultivation of these ballotments at least they would find their own tools and their own time, both of which are equal to a proportion of capital, and the resemblance between their case and that of the tenant farmer is here complete. If a labourer receives 50l. per annum, that represents the interest on 1,000l. at five per cent. His : labour, to pay, must therefore result in the production of 20l. per cent. on this 1,000l.=200l., one-half of which is represented by the increased yield, and the other half represented by the skill and time he gives. So that the fact of his employing his skill upon the farm is equivalent to his investing 100l. on the soil. This is a rough calculation, not made for exactitude, but for illustration. Here, again, he resembles the tenant farmer, because the tenant, in addition to his proportion of capital, invests his skill, his acquired knowledge of agriculture, and his time, in the cultiva tion of the soil. When the position of the tenant towards the landlord is determined, the position of the labourer towards the tenant is also adjusted in a great measure. It may be objected that this will not apply to manufactures, and therefore no settlement of the labour question will be arrived at, because in manufactures there are only two parties, the capitalist and the labourer, while in farming there is a third, the landlord. It may possibly be found necessary to create this third party, the landlord, in a modified form, before the difficulty in the manufacturing districts can be met. He The great use of the landlord is to preserve the balance. would say to the capitalist, 'Take your share, and no more; to the labourer the same; 'for if either predominates and tyrannises, my interest suffers, and I shall therefore take care to prevent that.' The landlord, in fact, represents the material itself-the interest of the public at large, who have no representative in the manufactories. These are only suggestions, but it certainly does seem as if the new conditions of farming were making a step towards the solution of that most interesting problem which, like many other great questions, will probably be adjusted by a compromise rather than by a violent change or an entirely novel state of society. The political strength of a class may be estimated by the bids or no bids made for their support by the party whe believe that they are approaching power. At the present moment the agriculturists are perfectly well aware that their solid ranks are relied upon to weigh down the scale in the coming general election. But, independently of any party whatever, it is evident that, as the increasing demand for meat concentrates the attention of the nation upon them, so in proportion must their political power advance. As the population still further masses itself in huge towns and cities, and the margin of cattle stock lying in reserve narrows itself, any unforeseen disturbance in the order of things might without much difficulty produce a crisis, when, for a moment at least, the agriculturists would hold the destiny of the country in their hands. RICHARD JEFFERIES. L A TRIP INTO BOSNIA. BY HUMPHRY SANDWITH, C.B. AST autumn, finding myself at Belgrade, one of the guests of the municipality, enjoying the profuse hospitality consequent on the coronation or enthronement of the young Prince Milan, I determined, on the conclusion of the festivities, to take a trip into Bosnia, almost the only Turkish province I had not visited. With this intent, I took advantage of a steamer to Vucovar, in Austrian Sclavonia, and there hired a cart and horses, and in two days drove across a flat but interesting country, which, like all these regions, when not under Turkish control, is making enormous progress in material development. Arrived at Austrian Brod, on the Save, I dismissed my Austrian coachman with his vehicle, and engaged another for the drive to Seraievo. On the following morning, about two hours after the time agreed on, my arabajee drove up to the door of the locanda in a Hungarian cart with three small and lean horses. He dexterously packed my luggage in the hinder part and arranged for me a seat just behind his driving-box, and so, having there ensconced myself, we began our journey. We drove in a zigzag down the steep bank of the Save, and over a broad plank straight into the ferry-boat, and so pushed off without any further trouble; the horses behaving admirably, and being evidently used to the feat. Arrived at the other side the horses disem barked, dragging the cart after them, and then with a violent effort, sorely trying the harness, they rushed up the steep bank in the most gallant manner. And here I am once again on Turkish ground, though in a part of the Ottoman dominions quite new to me. I had supposed that Sclavonians of the same race, though living under different Governments, would not present any very striking contrasts, excepting such as were obviously due to the influence of Government. For example, I naturally expected to see mosques, knowing that the aristocracy of the country were Moslems; but I also looked for churches of humbler architectural pretensions, but more numerous, just as in Wales you see the comparatively handsome State church surrounded by two or three little chapels. I expected to see here and there the Constantinople offcial in his fez and surtout coat; but on the other hand I thought that the mass of the people would not differ essentially from their brethren speaking the same language on the other side of the river; that their cottages would probably be built on the same plan, and show perhaps an equal amount of comfort. I I scarcely exaggerate when I say that you would see hardly a greater contrast in everything if you were transported from an English village to Timbuktoo. have travelled to very remote parts of the Turkish empire, amongst the Nomads of Mesopotamia, and the Kurds on the Persian frontier, yet never did I feel myself in a more Moslem and Asiatic country than now, with one exception: there was a very fair road. Variety is the charm of travel, and here I had it. The first two horsemen I met were armed with a large brace of silver-mounted pistols, and the yataghan sticking out of the leathern girdle which was strapped on |