Gloucestershire, nay England, is full of old manor houses and fair, smiling villages; but in many parts of the country we see buildings falling out of repair and deserted mansions.  Would that we knew the remedy for agricultural depression!  But let us not despair.

     “The future hides in it
        Gladness and sorrow;
        We press still thorow,
      Nought that abides in it
        Daunting us,—­onward!”

It is a sad thing when the “big house” of the village is empty.  The labourers who never see their squire begin to look upon him as a sort of ogre, who exists merely to screw rents out of the land they till.  Those who are dependent on land alone are often the men who do their duty best on their estates, and, poor though they may be, they are much beloved.  But it is to be feared that in some parts of England men who are not suffering from the depression—­rich tenants of country houses and the like—­are apt to take a somewhat limited view of their duty towards their poorer neighbours.  To be sure, the good ladies at the “great house” are invariably “ministering angels” to the poor in time of sickness, but even in these democratic days there is too great a gulf fixed between all classes.  Let all those who are fortunate enough to live in such a place as we have attempted to describe remember that a kind word, a shake of the hand, the occasional distribution of game throughout the village, and a hundred other small kindnesses do more to win the heart of the labouring man than much talk at election times of Small Holdings, Parish Councils, or Free Education.

A tea given two or three times a year by the squire to the whole village, when the grounds are thrown open to them, does much to lighten the dulness of their existence and to cheer the monotonous round of daily toil.  It is often thoughtlessness rather than poverty that prevents those who live in the large house of the village from being really loved by those around them.  There are many instances of unpopular squires whose faces the cottagers never behold, and yet these men may be spending hundreds of pounds each year for the benefit of those whose affection they fail to gain.

Alas! that there should exist in so many country places that class feeling that is called Radicalism.  It is perhaps fortunate that under the guise of politics what is really nothing else but bitterness and discontent is hidden and prevented from being recognised by its true name.

There are many country houses that are shut up for the greater part of the year for other reasons than agricultural depression, often because the owner, while preferring to reside elsewhere, is too proud to let the place to a stranger.  This should not be.  Let these rich men who own large houses and great estates live in those houses and on those estates, or endeavour to find a tenant.  We repeat that the landowners who really feel the stress of bad times for the most part do their duty