VIEWS OF IRELAND, MORAL, POLITICAL, AND RELIGIOUS. By JOHN O'DRISCOL, Esq. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. 9459 LONDON : PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, UEES, ORME AND BROWN, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 1823. LONDOK : Printed l)y A. & R. Spottiswoode, New-Street-.Square. TO THE MOST NOBLE THE MARQUESS OF LANSDOWNE. My Lord, I BEG leave to present my speculations upon Ireland to Your Lord- ship. Descended from a family connected for ages with its history and fortunes, you are also able to comprehend its interests, and to appreciate its importance. I know that Your Lordship deplores the fatal policy of past times, and the cala- mities which have followed it ; and that you ardently desire to see L^eland released from the lingering remnant of that unhappy system. To this end, it has been my object to contribute my humble means ; and it will IV DEDICATION. be a high gratification to me, should tlie effort be sanctioned by Your Lordship's approbation. But, my Lord, should you consider some of my views erroneous, you will yet, I trust, value my book for what constitutes its chief merit — purity of motive, and zeal in the cause of truth, country, and human kind. I have the honour to be, My Lord, With great respect, Your Lordship's most obedient And humble Servant, J. O'DRISCOL. Lisnabrinny Lodge, Nov. 1822. PREFACE. Fame iand Fortune are the slaves which obey the master spirits of our time, whose choice it is to dwell in the enchanted regions of the imagine ation. To delight and amuse the leisure and indolence of our age, demands genius of the first order : and in the path of such a genius, roses are strewed ; crowns of honour are pre- sented by the fairest hands, and places of dig- nity and rich reward await his acceptance* Every thing tempts him to flee away from the dull realities of life ; and to take refuge from the crimes, and sorrows, and perplexities which surround them, in the shining castles, and the blooming gardens, and the sweet repose of fairy land. We are not surprised that so many powerful minds have been tempted into this happy region. A O VI PREFACE. Here you encounter no enemy. You interfere with no man's interest, or monopoly, or power. The Whig, the Tory, the Radical, and the Orange-man, can be pleased with the brilliant fictions of the imagination. Men in place, and out of it, and men of all professions, submit willingly to the wand of the enchanter, which has power over the airy visions of the fancy only. But when an unlucky wight, whom no spell has charmed beyond this world's dismal disk, comes to deal with the realities about him — what a sad piece of work ! If dull, he will be deservedly despised; if timid, his labours will be in vain. If with the spear and spirit of Ithuriel, he go forth in the service of mankind, touching those cowering interests which, in unreal shapes, plot the ruin of the species, and forcing them to assume all their original and evil forms, he will have done a good work; but he must prepare for no ordinary encounter. There is no country upon which so much has been written, and so badly and imperfectly, as Ireland. Few writers have understood the sub- PREFACE. Vll ject thoroughly, and been perfectly impartial. There is much ignorance in Great Britain re- specting Ireland j and much also in the latter country amongst large classes of the people con- cerning great bodies of their countrymen. There has been in Ireland, for ages, an intercourse of dissimulation carried on between considerable denominations of the people ; a communion of necessity, and sometimes of courtesy ; but with- out confidence or cordiality : and seeming friends and neighbours could in a moment take their places in opposite hosts, and join in deadly combat. They are hardly yet aware of the good qualities they possess in common. There are, unhappily, on both sides, bodies of men of great influence and power having an interest in this unnatural state of things. There are men who misrepresent the people to each other, and perpetuate the delusion and the calamity of their enmities. It was our purpose to make the people of England acquainted with tlieir fellow subjects of Ireland, and the people of the latter country with each otlicr ; to exhibit a sketch of Ireland, rapid, irregular, but faithful ; a view of what it A i Vm PREFACE. was, what it is, and what it might be ; to suggest, to urge changes which have become indispensable, and at the same time, to expel, if it were possible, the fierce demon of radical change from its abode in the tormented bosom of the populace. We need great improvements in Ireland : but we have had enough of revolutions in that tortured country. All are agreed that changes are necessary : upon this point there is perfect unanimity. The bare-footed peasant upon the mountain, and the citizen who is employed at his trade ; the country gentleman, and the professional man, and the farmer ; all are agreed, that things can- not remain as they are. This is a kind of in- stinctive feeling which belongs to our species, intunating w^hen great changes are at hand. It is something of that kind by which the lower animals foreknow the changes of the weather, and are warned to provide for their safety. The destiny of Ireland has been singular. Voltaire thought she was fore-doomed to slavery : but this brilliant writer was mistaken. This fate is reserved for the willing slave only, or the 14 PREFACE. IX inferior classes of human intellio:ence5. Never were there more turbulent and reluctant slaves than the Irish. Nations, like indi\-iduals, have their times of affliction : but a few hundred years is not so long a period with a nation, as it is in our imagination. Nations have long Hves. In the critical situation of Ireland, it appeared to us inchspensable that tlie truth should be spoken. But we have not greatly regarded ar- rangement ; nor taken much heed of small faults in style, which it would have required time to correct : not because we considered these undeserving of attention ; but, circum- stances having delayed our publication, and obhged us, frequently, to lay aside our work tor a period, the question now was, whether we should send it to press, or postpone the publi- cation, until, perhaps, the interest which passing events had collected upon Irish affairs might have been dissipated and lost. We were in- duced to prefer the former course ; and we have sent our book into the world, not without some hope that it may work some good lor our country. X PREFACE. We have not valued numerous references, nor extensive details, nor a voluminous appendix. These might have had their use ; and we have not wholly neglected them. But our chief ob- ject was, to convince — to persuade — to give to the cause of Ireland, if we could achieve it, that interest, which is created, not by cold de- tail, and barren documents, and a cheap parade of learning; but, by those warm and living pictures which, as they can be painted only by him who feels, are calculated to seize upon the feelings of others, and to convince the under- standing, while they possess themselves of the heart. We do not say we have done this ; but that we would have done it. In dealing with the great church establish- ments of Ireland, we have disguised our opinions in nothing. Our respect is as sincere, and as undisguised, for a great portion of the ministers of both churches. We admire the Protestant church as singularly pure, and almost perfect ; and we can love the ardent piety, and simpli- city of heart, which we have met with in the Catholic communion. But the abuses of both, and the obstacles they present to the im- PREFACE, XI provement of Ireland, called for our observ- ation. We do not pretend to be of no party. But our leaning to party is without enmity or acri- mony. We can value merit, and admire genius, and love goodness wherever we find it. We are not w ithout some political partialities ; but we profess to have no prejudices ; and we happen to have some valued friends, among those from whom we differ in important points. Some late transactions in Dublin make it necessary to say a word here on the subject of the Union. The Union was, in our opinion, a bad measure. Any measure effected by such means could be no other than evil. It should have embraced a final, a complete and conclusive adjustment of every thing which required adjust- ment, in Ireland. But it stood alone, in all its naked deformity — odious and miserably im- perfect; and such it has remained. Yet the repeal of tlie Union is an absurdity to be contemplated only by fools or knaves. There are steps which are not to be retraced ; which. XU PREFACE. however we may regret having taken, must re- main for ever. There are acts, which to do is evil ; but to undo would be the consummation of wickedness and folly. Such is the Union. We can imagine a scheme for the total separation of the two islands, such as was contemplated by the heads of the United Irishmen. Whatever may be the character of such a scheme — it may be bold, or wicked, or impracticable ; but it does not wear the aspect of miserable and drivelling folly, which the other does. If the projectors of separation were thoroughly acquainted with the elements of so- ciety, as they exist in Ireland, they would enter- tain no such project ; not, at least, until they had rooted out from their hearts all the weak- nesses of humanity, and become content to realise their theory of government at an ex- pense of private and public calamity, which no theory is worth. It should be the object of every good man, in England and Ireland, to make that union per- fect, which is now so incomplete : without this there will be, not a repeal of the Union, but a PREFACE. XIU constant recurrence of those disastrous attempts at separation, which, in their success or in their defeat, cannot fail to be destructive of the best interests of both countries. It would be for ever to be lamented, if the present precious season of peace were permitted to pass by without a final settlement of the affairs of Ireland. Already many years have elapsed, and we know not how many remain. If the evil genius of the Bourbons should lead that family to commit France and Spain in a new war — in what will it result ? Will these great nations shed their blood for the private satis- faction of this family? They cannot be ma- naged like Naples ; and once in motion, and upon such a question as the form of government and the rights of the people — the issue is hardly doubtful. We may see these nations, driven by the folly of their rulers, starting afresh in a new career of revolution. He who is acquainted with the past history of Ireland, and her ancient connections with France and Spain, could not view her, powerful and discontented as she is, without apprehension ; if France XIV PREFACE. again in arms, and Spain aroused from the leth- argy of despotism and driven to great exertions, were, by some unhappy combination, again united against Britain. CONTENTS or THE FIBST VOLUME, Page Ireland 1 National Character 16 Irish Women , 32 Policy of England 39 Penal Laws 67 Religion 87 Established Church. — Tithe 105 The Church of Rome in Ireland 138 Presbyterian Church of Ireland. — Socinianism... 160 Population. — Mr. Malthus 176 Subsistence 202 Mr. Owen's Plan 211 Manufactures » ,. 224 Appendix 247 VIEWS OF IRELAND. IRELAND. Ireland claims attention for the singularity of its past history, and its present situation* There is about Irish affairs the interest of uncertainty j nothing is fixed ; we discern that changes are inevitable, but we cannot ascertain their character. While Great Britain sits in the brightness of the glorious age which she has almost created j Ireland is stiU in the dimness of antiquity. She has had her shining spirits, not few nor inconsiderable. But they have been unable to dispel the darkness of an antiquity that is with- out pomp, or beauty, or chivalry ; not elevated, not dignified, not polished ; preserving only the fierce passions, the feuds and the barbarism of ancient times, without the generous attachments of clanship, without the, oftentimes, noble fidelity and high honour of feudal obligations. The VOL. X, B 2 IRELAND. lumber and the dross, and the deadly weapons of antiquity are scattered over the land ; but whatever was brilliant or beautiful is gone for ever. We walk as upon a stage where the pageant has been withdrawn, and the lights ex- tinguished, and some coarse and vulgar materials, strown in the darkness, suggest an indistinct idea of what might have been performed. The fate of nations is like that of individuals, now mingled in storms, now reposing in sun- shine, and partaking of every vicissitude. When darkness was upon the face of all Europe, and the fearful successes of the Othmans, and the crumbling of the Roman Empire, had shaken the foundations of society, Ireland preserved in peace and purity the lights of religion and let- ters ; here, when happier days returned, the other nations trimmed their lamps, and having performed her task and preserved the sacred fire, then came the time of her own visitation, and in her turn, she was involved in darkness and in blood. The Danish and the British invasions overthrew her civil institutions, and the invasion of the Roman pontiff Adrian destroyed the liberties of her church. The Danish invasions, though defeated and repelled, broke the strength of the nation, and 21 IRELAND. 3 involved it in civil dissension. The current of this northern aggression had rolled broken and murmuring away ; but it had left the rock upon the sea shore shattered in all its length and thickness. It v/ould seem as if the collision and mingling of the fierce tribes and various people, which have, from time to time, invaded, and subdued, and domesticated with each other, were at length completed. The storms which every where accompanied these mighty operations of nature have been hushed, and we now enjoy the advan- tages, of what kind soever they are, which were no doubt contemplated, in this portion of the divine economy of the world. In England the Saxon, the Norman, and British people were brought together in the pro- gress of events, and of these mixed materials was formed the solid and consistent mass of the Eng- lish people. In Ireland the currents of popula- tion have met and combated, but hardly have they mingled. There has been a mighty dis- ruption and displacement. The Saxon flood forced its way through the multitude, like some great current in the ocean, preserving its dis- tinctness in the midst of surrounding waters. This unhappy distinctness was preserved in two B 2 ^> 4 IRELAND. ways : first, and chiefly, because the ancient famiUes of rank were swept away, in the long and frequent wars of the country, by too general and complete a destruction ; there were not left suffi- cient materials of this class to form the elements of a new race, different from, and perhaps supe- rior to, both new and old. Religion, and the penal laws, formed another broad line of division, which forbade the mingling of the people,. Tliese causes contributed to give a double character to the nation, and a double aspect to every thing Irish, singularly wild, strange, and *^ unprecedented. The serious, persevering, and business-like character of the English invaders, bowed in process of time to the genius of the country; but it borrowed more frequently the vices* of the peasantry, than the virtues of the Milesian chief. It grew fierce in its fearlessness, and thoughtless in its hospitality, and the extent of its purposes, and the insufficiency of its means, and the levity of its demeanour ; its con- tempt for religion and its intolerance, formed an amazing compound. If the Irishman of ancient race was tainted with some of these vices, he had yet a mantle of surprising beauty, which he threw about him with so much ease and graceful- ness, that nothing met the eye to hurt it. He wore a kindliness of disposition, a depth of /- IRELAND. feeling, a disdain of petty considerations, and a devotedness of heart, which covered every defect. There is a true and rare generosity which neither calculates nor hesitates, when a kind or noble deed is to be performed ; a gem which is seldom to be met with upon the smooth and crowded highways of the world ; but we have sometimes marked it glittering amongst the sharp flints which strew the dark and stormy paths trodden by the children of poverty. We may divide Ireland, generally, into por- tions, north and south of Dublin, and east and west of the Shannon. In the north are placed the Scoto-Irish population, busy with their manu- facture, prudent, industrious, and rich ; injielli- gent, independent in their principles,'*'and Pro- testant dissenters in religion. In the soutft we find an agricultural peasantry, purely Irish, or nearly so, with a gentry of English race, tlie latter, for the most part, of the church of Eng- land, the former Roman Catholics. Along the line of the eastern coast, stretching from Cork to Dublin and farther northward, we mee.t a mingled population of English and Irish descent. J' As long as Ireland continued unsettled, there was throughout this extent a constant influx of adventurers from every point of the opposite coast of England, vScotland, and Wales. TJiis 6 IRELAND. infusion of new blood from the other island pro- duced a new population of a very fine character, but of an unquiet spirit ; fierce almost to savageness, despising the sword as a restraint, regardless of the gibbet, delighting in conflict though hopeless, and meeting death with uncon- cern, or with satisfaction, if it be paid as the price of vengeance. This is a mine, not indeed of gold or silver, but of a more valuable metal, — iron, and of the best quality, capable of the highest polish, and fit to be tempered to every great and useful purpose of life. But the mere legislator, the speculator in acts of parliament, will do little here, unless he be preceded by the moral and religious operator. Upon this imprac- ticable people, the terrors of the law have failed of effect ; nothing less than Gospel heat will fuse these *' hearts of steel."* Upon the eastern shore of the island, washed by the waters of the Atlantic, dwell a more un- mixed people. These are of old Irish race. They differ from their countrymen of the east, in being less turbulent, more patient, and easy to be led ; bearing a great deal of oppression be- fore roused to resistance, frugal, qUiet, indolent, * An appellation synonymous with White-boys, and first assumed in the north of Ireland by these disturbers of the public peace. IRELAND. 7 and contemplative, passing from melancholy to mirth, pious, and less fit for the business of the world than the mingled people behind them. With less activity of mind, they possess more of the elements of what is called genius, more imagination, more feeling, more thoughtfulness, and tenderness of heart. During all the distractions of Ireland, this was comparatively a region of peace and tranquillity. It was remote from the scene of the principal action, and was moreover defended by the great waters of the Shannon. This mighty river bent his huge arm round the remnant of Irish race, and repelled the invader. If the people abode here in safety, while the rest of the land was ravaged by the civil storm ; if in this quarter there are still to be found some gentry of the old Milesian stock, dwelhng in peace upon the estates of their ancestors ; they owe it to the Shannon. This was their great protector, and the quiet and security they enjoyed, made this region the depositary of Irish feeling, as it was the refuge of the race. There is something in the serene magnificence of the Shannon, rolling his long line of waves in splendid continuity, and spreading occasionally into vast lakes, and ex- hibiting in the bosom of his great waters a thou- sand beautiful islets, like the expansions of some B 4 8 IRELAND. mighty mind in the stillness of deep thought, or the flowing of a rich imagination, wave tumbling over wave, until at length it displays its fairy formations, sparkling upon a calm and sunny surface. — There is something in the grandeur and solitude of the Atlantic, and in the singu- larly wild scenery of the country which these waters enclose, calculated to soothe and to <^herish that disposition of the mind, and that arrangement of the feelings which lead away from the world we inhabit, fixing our affections upon the past, or involving us in airy visions of the future. The spirit of this busy world walks upon the east coast of the island, with his head full of rumours, and his hands full of employment. But on those shores that look over the great Western Ocean, stillness and though tfuln ess take their way, and impress upon the people a widely dif- ferent character. Here we meet, at every step, a wild and fantastic luxuriance of imagination, — the literary genius of the bog, and the poet of the glen and the mountain : rude, and often ludi- crous, indications of the native richness of the soil. South of the Shannon, where it bends to meet the Atlantic, and stretching into the counties of Kerry and Cork, the same moral character is preserved, and the same physical aspect is main- tained. The country, however, mingles here IRElAND. 9 more beauty with its wildness, until at Killarney Nature throws aside her veil, and triumphs in her loveliness. As we approach her in this her glorious dwelling, in the midst of woods and waters, we are made to feel the littleness of hu- man concerns, and experience that low and quick pulsation, that sinking of the spirits, so distressing, so delightful, which nature produces upon man, when she draws near to him in the power and splendor of her revealings, touching him as it were with her finger, and awaking him out of the disturbed trance into which the spirit of the world lulls its slaves, to see and to feel that she alone is worthy of all his love and all his admiration ; and claiming, like the God whose faithful servant she is, the homage of a pure and undivided heart. We pretend not to describe the wonders of Killarney ; they must be seen and felt. Nature, indeed, keeps her court in Cumberland, and in a thousand other favoured places upon the globe, and as we tread these delightful seclusions, we discern that we walk in her footsteps, and in places made glorious by her presence. But we meet her in Killarney as in her most loved retreat, in the shrine where she is ever present, in the temj)le erected without hands, capacious, im- mense, whose columns are the eternal moun- 10 IRELAND. tains, where a thousand wondrous echoes hymn her praise, and the great waters Hft up their voice, and the red deer guard with their large antlers, her tabernacle in the midst of the groves of arbutus, and the winding woods of oak. Those who would worship Nature in her own temple must seek her at Killarney. Traversing southward through the wooded Glen of riesk, we meet the sea in the great estuary at Kenmare. The little town of Ken- mare is finely situated at the top of this great arm of the ocean, and the bold and beautiful scenery reposing here, in utter loneliness, upon the bosom of the Atlantic, would well repay to the pilgrims of Killarney, the trouble of a short drive through the woods of Glen Flesk. South of Kenmare lies Bantry, at the head of its great bay, and surrounded by its fine moun- tains, placed like huge centinels to guard the passes of the land against the assaults of the ocean. These outposts of the western island have been skilfully planted, and they are worthy of the land they protect. Firm in their strong positions, and clothed with beauty, they look as it were calmly upon the multitudinous enemy which seeks them at every opening, and is never weary of its warfare. IRELAND. 11 From Bantry to Baltimore, the land puts out a sharp angle, encountering the whole force of the southern Atlantic. This was a point that required adcUtional defences ; and accordingly we find the coast surrounded here with a clus- tering guard of small islands, some of them of great beauty, and all interesting from the im- portant positions they occupy, keeping firm foot- ing in the midst of those waters which, from the south pole and the coasts of the new world, have broken their strength upon no other enemy. There is a pomp and splendour in all warfare ; there is something grand and impressive in every great exertion of strength. When man goes forth to combat with his fellow mortal, he surrounds himself with a dazzling arrayment; we are struck with the brilliancy of his equipment, and the power wliich he collects about him, and the sweet and stirring sounds that accompany his march. A deep interest rests upon the strug- gles of even our feeble species. But when Nature puts on her armour, and pre- pares for the combat of the great elements, we survey the wisdom of her dispositions ; her power, that is beyond calculation, and the beauty and the glory she displays in her every move- ment ; and we are filled with admiration. Stand- 12 IRELAND. ing at this point, upon the extreme verge of Europe, we see the Atlantic rushing upon the bended arm of Ireland, while she receives him upon her seven-fold shield of islands, and the land and the ocean tremble, and the sound of the conflict is carried afar upon the broken waves. In the rocky basin of Loch Eyne, in the beau- tiful bay of Baltimore, in the secluded loveliness of Castlehaven, we find Nature engaged in works of grandeur and importance. Throughout the whole of this coast, she has disposed the land and water in every possible form and variety of sublimity and beauty. Those who are acquainted with this interesting part of Ireland must be struck with its singular beauty, and the singular fact of its being so little known. Furnished with an amazing number of noble harbours, looking towards both Americas and the south of Europe, this, it might have have been thought, was the very spot which Trade would have chosen for her dwelling. But she has never been here. A few fishing villages lying upon these great bays, contrast in a strange manner with their grandeur and commodiousness. The spirit of commerce has frequently passed by those seats which Nature IRELAND. IS seems to have intended for her to indulge a wayward humour, and fix herself in some dark and inconvenient nook of the earth. But in this instance she left these fine positions with good reason, to place herself upon the opposite coast, as near as possible to the great emporium she had established in the other island. The eastern coast lying opposite that of England, became the seat of commerce. The great western har- bours were neglected. Until lately there was hardly any passable approach to them by land ; and by sea they were only known to mariners as Ireland's great and numerous arms stretching far into the ocean, and offering a hospitable shelter to the distressed of all nations. The bay of Bantry, indeed, obtained some report in the world in consequence of the attempted invasion of France at this point in 1797« But before the English connection, thoroughly established, gave a local importance to the eastern shores of the island, the west and south-western coast appears to have enjoyed its natural pre-emi- nence. It is circled with a line of ancient castles on the main land and on the islands, which shew that these fine positions were at one time valued and used as nature intended. The old Irish, how- ever, appear to have had an indisposition to trade. 14 IRELAND. which could hardly be expected in the descend- ants of the celebrated traders of Tyre, " the mart of nations, the crowning city, whose mer- chants are princes, whose traffickers are the ho- nourable of the earth." That the Irish were an Eastern colony admits, we think, little doubt, and this too will account for the degree of knowledge and refinement which they possessed at a very early period, and which were lost in the over- whelming calamities of the country. Ireland is admitted to have possessed an early knowledge and love of letters ; to have received Christianity with readiness, and to have imbibed its spirit with a zeal and devotion which entitled it to the high appellation of the ** Island of Saints." That few memorials remain of that eminence which was the theme of her bards and annalists is not surprising, when we consider that she has enjoyed no peace " that could be called peace" for the last thousand years ; that, during this period she has been three times a wooded wilderness, and three times the plough has passed over, even her high hills. Her archi- tectural antiquities are of no very remote date, frequently overturned and renewed in haste, and sometimes of necessity abandoned in the build- ing, they furnish proofs only of the efforts and IRELAND. 15 the exhausted state of the country. And Ire- land comes before us now still engaged in strug- gles, far behind Great Britain in the race of power and prosperity, and yet her eldest sister. The Ogygia of the ancients, the oldest and the newest country in Europe, 16 NATIONAL CHARACTER. JNIoTHiNG is more real, or better understood, than national character, and yet it is an abstract idea of no little complexity. The general and loose notions which prevail every where, con- cerning the characters of nations, are for the most part founded in truth, because founded upon the consent and experience of mankind* But though true at bottom, and though this con- sent and experience be the surest guides we can trust to ; it often happens that there is a con- siderable mixture of error and prejudice to be found mingled with these popular notions. So it is of individual character. If we could collect the general sense of society, we should find, that upon the whole, individual character is pretty accurately ascertained; and we should obtain nearly the pure and unadulterated truth, strained through so many coarse mediums. The public judge from the whole tenour of life, and a whole series of actions; they are impartial observers ; and standing afar NATIONAL CHARACTER. 17 off, are less likely to form erroneous judgm^Jits, tlian those who, by their near approach to the object, may be affected by its influence, and, as they are themselves composed, be drawn within its circle, or repelled from its orbit ; and their admiration or aversion may be the result, as well of their own characters as of those which are tlie subject of their observation. There is a po- sition too close, as well as too distant for accu- racy. It may be a small thing, if an individual suf- fer from prejudice or mistake — time will do him justice, or will find a grave for the calumny as for its object. There is a term for the indi- vidual and for his sufferings, but a nation lives always, and its wrongs arc perpetuated from age to age. The value of good character seems generally well understood in private life , and though it is thought that the rich and powerful arc more in- dependent of it, yet even in their case, it is felt to be of inestimable value. The good name of a nation is not less worthy of care ; and he is a paltry politician who would sacrifice it for a small, or for any, consideration. Great nations have done great wrongs, and have VOL. I. c 18 NATIONAL CHARACTER. thought themselves justified in the power of per- petration. But this was when there was no hght upon the earth; — when the spirit of the uni- verse had yet no eyes, and saw not the crime, or in the darkness of its perception marked not its enormity. But even in those days, some justification was sought for, when power and oppression went forth to deeds of violence and rapine. And this was generally found in the imputed character of the injured party. That portion of the human race which has been devoted to slavery, has been devoted to obloquy too. Servitude and slander have been the portion of the African. Those nations which have been less wronged, have been, perhaps, less maligned; but their share of misrepresentation has been generally in proportion to the wrong. The character fixed by the oppressor upon his victim, and in which he sought his justification, has not only frequently remained the pretence of continued injustice, but it has often of its own working done the will of its author, and gene- rated a family of woes, to complete and per- petuate the ruin it had prepared, — to sting the v/retched sufferer to madness, and probably, at length, to realize its own fiction, by making him NATIONAL CHARACTER, IQ tlie degraded and brutal being it had at first but feigned him. Character is to nations, as to individuals — protection, wealth, and power. The good and the evil that is in character, is, in a great degree, the result of circumstances solely, over which Providence alone has control. But, independent of this, there is a national genius which pre- dominates over all ; like the hereditary peculi- arities of some families, distinguished for taste or talent, for probity or folly. In our acquaintance with families, it is well to ascertain not only the individual character, but the family bias. In treating of nations we should try to discover the original peculiar character, independently of those modifications impressed by evil or by for- tunate events — that character to which a nation may be raised, and towards which it may by calamity decline. Without this the statesman is working in the dark, and the philanthropist wastes his efforts. True, there arc those who think such enqui- ries vain and frivolous; — that all mankind are to be acted upon by the same means, and con- sist of the same materials. Thinkers of this class are but vulgar politicians, and very superficial c S so NATIONAL CHARACTER. pliilosopliers, and we shall not stop to combat an assumption contrary to the common sense and experience of mankind. There is a peculi- arity even in the vices and villanies of men, and those most hacknied in the corruptions of the world will admit, that in this wide field there is an infinite diversity. There is a character peculiar to the different races of men, which is not entirely eflfaced even by ffreat intermixture. There is also a character which appears in some mysterious manner inci- dent to the soil. The northern Irish, who still presene much of the colour of their Scottish original, and even the Irish of Cromwellian race, who are hardly yet Irish in feeling, are strongly marked with the great lineaments of the nation. As the Saxons communicated to the Normans the great features of their character, so the old Irish race have impressed upon their British in- vaders the outlines of their lineage. The tri- umph of character has surpassed the triumph of arms. The popular writers and orators of any nation furnish a good exemplification of its character ; they are the embodied spirit of the nation ; they are the voice of the people, uttering the NATIONAL CHARACTER. 21 deep and sublime things shut up in the bosom of the populace. Nations, sometimes for a long period, lose their power of utterance, and they suffer, and are deeply afflicted under the dread privation ; for they delight in the faculty of speech, and of holding converse with the world. Providence can bestow no greater blessing upon a nation than to give it a multitude of tongues to speak its thoughts and feelings. It is revived by the melody of its own voice — the echoes of its favourite strains speak upon every hill, and fill every valley with pleasure. The people are roused as one man by the conscious community of feeling ; they are enlightened by their own musings as they ponder upon the things they themselves have uttered ; and, led by tlie myste- rious faculty of speech, they find their way to greatness and prosperity. If then we would know the genius of a peo- ple, we must attend to what they have said, and how they have spoken. When Ireland revived, after a short breathing, from the state of wretch- edness and exhaustion, in which her civil wars had left her, and had shaken off, in her first rousings, a portion of the penal and disabling laws which oppressed her, the spirit of the na- tion found utterance, and spoke with the mouths of Burke, and G rattan, and Curran, and Swift. c 3 22 NATIONAL CHARACTER. Like one who had long been dumb, and in de- spair, she spoke rapidly, and with great power. A crowd of mighty minds were filled with her new found energy. The spirit of her sweetest muse dwelt in the simple and amiable Gold- smith. His poetry, as polished as Pope's, has infinitely more of tenderness and feeling. In Pope we see the art and the artist ; in Gold- smith we discern nothing but the subject that is before us, and the simple sweetness of the strain. His verse seems the natural flowing of the feel- ing, like the melody of some gentle stream in a sunny valley. We cannot congratulate the ge- nius of the discoverer who found out that Pope was no poet ; neither do we do this great man any dishonour, in placing Goldsmith by his side as his equal in all things. The lights of a glo- rious age, different, but equal. Pope had more cultivated dignity of style — more manner. His verses bore evidence of great labour, and the effect was striking. His poetry was like his nation, powerful, cultivated, excellent ; but all^ in some degree, the effect of a laborious and thi'ifty spirit, sparing no pains, and making the uttermost even of the least things. Goldsmitli was the opfioSfe of all this; theffe is a facility in his verse that looks like careless- ness — something like the negligence of his na- 13 NATIONAL CHARACTER. Q3 tion in the management of his subject ; but its precious glow of feeling, its touching tenderness, and its power over the heart. There is no poem in the English language that can be placed before the " Deserted Village," but there are many that show more skill, and thought and attention bestowed upon them. Nature had done all for Goldsmith : study did much for Pope. The former hardly knew he was a poet ; the latter learned his powers in the severity of his studies. Moore, though very different from Goldsmith, is not less national. The genius of this brilliant poet is in all respects Irish ; his beauties, his blemishes, his sins, and his atonements, all be- long to his nation. There are poets that have offended less, but there is, perhaps, but one, — and his offences are of a deeper die, — who hath equal brilliancy and pathos. The melancholy, the gaiety, the plaintive sweetness, and the al-r most riotous exuberance of mirth are all his own and his country's. Since the days of remotest antiquity, no lyre has ever made so sweet a me- lody as Moore's. He stands, in this age, alone and unrivalled, the master of the sweetest and only minstrelsy. The ancient music of Ireland was a rich and c 4 S4 NATIONAL CHARACTER. long neglected mine of melody. The genius of Moore possessed itself at once of all its treasures, and in the inspiration of its deep caves, resound- ing with the spells and enchantments of for- gotten ages, he was filled with the " Soul of Music.'* The music of Ireland was exquisitely pathetic and plaintive, it was wild and unequal, passing, but always with skill and feeling, through every variety of note and modulation, and from one strain to another -, from the deepest melan- choly to the gaiety of a spirit resolved to shake off its weight of care, and to forget its sorrows in excess of merriment. The harp of this skilful minstrel was true to the ear and the heart of the nation, for which he touched its chords. Moore's melo- dies are not confined to the drawing-room and the saloon ; they have had the merit to please the vulgar, and have been sung in the streets to admiring crowds ; an eulogy at once upon the poet and the people. They must be true to nature, or they could not please the crowd, and it evinced no mean taste in the populace which could be pleased with compositions so po- lished. Ireland abounded with orators good and bad j but her first race were giants. Of this mighty NATIONAL CHARACTER. ^5 race, Burke might be considered first, and Grattan the last. Between these stood many a glorious name, resplendent with important pub- lic services. It is not our's to call forth the spirits of the mighty dead ; the two we have named will serve to illustrate the genius of their country. The brilliancy, the splendid magnifi- cence of Burke, the grandeur and variety of his dazzling imagery, the rushing torrent of his thoughts, flowing and spreading into a bound- less amplitude of illustration. His flight was with the eye and the wing of the eagle of his own hills, and the plumage of the bird of para- dise. In a British House of Parliament, his rich and copious eloquence contrasted finely with the lofty declamation of Pitt, and the simple and vehement appeals of Fox. These two great men were worthy to stand by the side of Burke and Sheridan ; but, if eloquence alone gave emi- nence, these latter would, perhaps, have de- served the first place. Mr. Grattan's style is like Burke's, but pos- sessing, perhaps, more strength and point. Grattan was more fortunate than Burke, he was more at home in the scene of his labours ; these, too, were concerned about the destiny of his na- 26 NATIONAL CHARACTER. tive land ; a subject grander and coming more home to the heart, than the trade or foreign po- licy of any nation. Burke poured around his subject the splendour of the noon day ; Grat- tan often invested his with the dazzling brillian- cy of the liglitning's flash. His vehemence was sublime ; Burke's was magnificent. The latter was the hill of Lebanon, crowned with its great cedars ; the other was the scorched summit of Sinai. It requires but to mention Curran, to add his wit, his pathos, his burning sarcasm, Iiis playful and elegant humour, his unrivalled facility, cloth- ing every thing he touched with beauty, and strewing flowers over the barrenest heaths of the law ; it requires but to mention this favourite of all the world, the orator of the heart, and feelings, and imagination, in conjunction with those we have already named, to obtain a clear idea of what is the genius of Ireland in this high department of human excellence. These spread before us the fervour, the sentiment, the deep thought and deeper feeling, the fine imagination and exquisite fancy, which belong to the national character. Such materials, however, are not the fittest for the ordinary business of life ; they belong to its NATIONAL CHARACTER. ^7 great occasions. War, politics, poetry, philo- sophy are, accordingly, the subjects which chief- ly attract Irish ambition, rather than the more safe and profitable pursuits of trade. Hence much of that disease called Irish pride — a distaste for little things, and a longing after such ob- jects as by their grandeur or importance furnish food for the imagination, and fill a mind which has travelled out of itself, and its little con- cerns, and made another home in its wide spe- culations. The genius of these great men re-acted upon its kindred spirit in the nation, and produced a crowd of imitators. Those who felt the stir- rings of a congenial mind, fancied themselves inspired with the same genius, and because they could copy the style, imagined they also breath- ed the spirit of the great masters. Hence the mock Irish style of which there are so many instances. There is no style so easy to imitate j none so difficult to succeed in. This miserable falsetto can never be mistaken for the voice of the muse. But even all this imitation is an evidence of the beauty and grandeur of the originals. Demosthenes spread a swarm of sophists over 28 NATIONAL CHARACTER. Greece ; and the " statue that enchants the Avorld," has made thousands of unlucky artists. The prevaiUng quaUties of the great minds we have mentioned, and their defects, are those also which abound in the bosom of their country : they form the great mental strata of the land. It was this deep and fervid feeling, tliis enthusi- asm which, at the first preaching of the gospel, drank the sublime doctrines of Christianity with delight, and then sent forth from the saturated soil a mighty torrent of piety and zeal, to en- rich and bless other lands. The devotedness of this people as Christians, in the early ages, was the effect of that spirit which in war leads them into the hottest of the battle ; in politics makes them ever ready to have recourse to extremes ; in trade, and in the common concerns of life, makes them prodigal and unthrifty ; makes them always generous, and sometimes unjust. It is a trite observation to say, that the best things when perverted become the worst ; but it is true generally. The calamities of Ireland had a more unhappy effect upon that country, than liiey would, perhaps, have produced upon any other nation. High qualities of mind, when turned to evil, ever occasion the most disastrous NATIONAL CHARACTER. ^9 results. The unconquerable zeal which disdains all selfish considerations, which no force can subdue, or danger appal, which, in the midst of peril and suffering, spreads its broad wing of benevolence over all mankind, may be tortured into sin, and dragged down into wickedness; and, changing its character, but not its energy, in its fall, may rise from its overthrow, foul, fierce, and polluted, and, in its debasement, adding cunning to its strength, may clothe itself with crimes. The high and heroic devotedness, which in a good cause, and directed by virtuous principle, is the admiration of the universe, when sorrow and suffering blind its faculty of perception, and it mistakes evil for good, may become the scourge of the world ; and men may be incredulous that it ever could have been en- gaged in a good cause ; and benevolence itselfj wearied and^ disgusted with an obstinacy which no kindness can conciliate, or perseverance sub- due, may turn away in despair, as from some- thing which God and nature had cursed with an impracticable obduracy. Something of this kind is to be found in Ire- land. There is an evil spirit in the lower classes of the people, and an intractable obstinacy ; and there is often a want of sufficient zeal for the 30 NATIONAL CHARACTER. task they have undertaken, amongst those who would morahse and improve them. Tliat the spirit we refer to was not originally evil, may be discerned from this — that it is accompanied, even in its fallen state, by virtues of such high character, as never consort with what is de- cidedly and naturally wicked — kindness, gene- rosity, good humour, fidelity, and goodness of heart. Its original character is seen also in those of the same race who possess the advan= tages of cultivation, and having been redeemed from the ruin which had fallen upon their less fortunate countrymen, escaped the fearful per- version of their fine qualities. Not many Irish gentlemen of ancient blood remained in the country after the surrender of Limerick, in 1691 ; but there were a few, and the odd and awkward circumstances by which they were surrounded, presented to the world that character, which has been sketched in the " King of the Black Islands," a strange and real romance ; the mock dignity, which was yet never assumed, and was imposing because con- ferred by a multitude ; the claims that were laughed at as absurd, and yet were not liked, because felt to have a kind of reality j the respect that could not be withheld, the aversion which NATIONAL CHARACTER. 31 could not be entirely concealed, the visionary importance, the personal power, and at the same time the weakness of this personage, were all circumstances of such incongruity, as added much to the wildness of the moral scenery of Ireland. 3^ IRISH WOMEN, The women of Ireland represent the national character better than the other sex. Like an Italian landscape in the moon-light, we see its beautiful outline softened, but yet more distinct- ly, than when the sun poured upon it his fierce and burning splendour. In the soothing softness of this picture, we discern all that gave value to the deeper tint of the noon-day radiance ; the kindness and goodness of the Irish heart, without its depravity ; its faithfulness and devotedness, without its fierceness. All its original gentleness and truth, such as was before yet calamity and oppression had dis- figured and corrupted it. Its playfulness and gaiety, touching every subject of thought and taste, and feeling and fancy ; fearlessly because pure, and freely because above suspicion. Gen- tleness is civilization — woman, is therefore, na- turally more civilized than man. Full of the IRISH WOMEN. 33 natural genius of the country ; the acuteness, the bright intelHgence, the lively fancy, the fine imagination, without the pretension which so frequently in the other sex spoils and disfi- gures these precious gifts of nature. We have seen these brilliant, dangerous talents, in all their richness and glow^ and glory, like the lambient flame that girt the head of Anchises' son, the the delight and wonder of the surrounding cir- cle, without a thought or consciousness of their existence disturbing the mind of the possessor. The women of England, if they possess the talent which belongs to their sex in the sister island, have not the courage to use their brilliant stores ; or use them awkwardly, or give them- selves up to a taste so refined as to approach the last shade of insipidity. The strength and freedom of Irish intellect, and of the Irish heart in its large and warm pulsation, woidd look something like vulgarity in England. We have heard it said, that an English woman would not be safe in treading the path which would be firm and secure to the foot of an Irish female. We do not think this : we think more highly of the women of England. We would not, if we could, rub out the shades of character, or efface, in the least degree, the superior refine- VOL. I. D 34 IRISH WOMEN. ment of that country, or the truth and freedom of nature, which charms, perhaps, still more in the women of the other island. In France we have all the freedom without the truth of character, and all the gaiety w^ithout the steadfast principle which makes it innocent, and gives it all its sweetness. The Irish woman is more cultivated than the French, with less pretension to knowledge, and gay with less of effort and manner. The French w^oman dwells and delights in mystery ; the Irish woman in the light. In France the sex has approached nearer to the male, in manners and habits, and has lost much of its charm in its approximation ; in Ire- land the sex has stooped to none of this pro- miscuous mingling, but has preserved all the freshness and delicacy of nature, with all its frankness and freedom. The form and countenance ever corresponds to the character of the mind. The women of Ireland possess great softness and variety of fea- ture, and a power of expression, arising from the absence of constraint, which gives to beauty more than the grace of loveliness. There is upon the human face a mysterious emanation of the mind which is past our comprehension, though it forms the delight and happiness of our 18 IRISH WOMEN. 55 world. Restraint clogs its evanescent and inex- plicable action. Dissoluteness destroys it in its source, and substitutes one coai'se and unvarying expression, which soon tires and disgusts. In England, perhaps, women have — in France they certainly have, — a more independent exist- ence than in Ireland. In the latter country the sex leans more upon their male relatives, and have less of a separate being. In married life a woman loses more entirely her individuahty in her love, and if repulsed by unkindness, or repelled by an uncongenial spii'it, she has less resource in herself or in society. The very warmth and goodness of her nature, deprived of its natural object, instead of giving her more entirely to the world, takes her out of its circle. A delicate and amiable woman can by no art be raised into a standard ; the beautiful leaves and the gay and clustering tendrils of a pure affec- tion will rather wither and rot upon the earth. The female character in all nations, is ^ softened and improved representation of the male ; it shows the virtues of the people, even their courage without its sanguinary shad- ing ; their generosity and hospitality, their faithfulness and talent, and peculiar genius. Even their love of country is more fully deve- D ^ 36 IRISH WOMEN\ loped hi the female sex, and wears a more- decided and nobler aspect. Women, in their happy seclusion, are less exposed to have their finer feeling depraved or destroyed in the miser- able traffic of low and sordid interests which engage the life of man. They yield themselves more easily to kind and generous affections, and sooner free themselves from the trammels of party prejudices and sectarian antipathies. Hence it is that in Ireland, though there are thousands of men, who, since the days of Crom- well, have been born, and fed, and have flourished^ and been happy with the fulness of the soil, and are yet foreigners in the land of their fathers- and of their children, and without one kindly or generous feeling towards the beautiful island of their nativity, or the fine race of men wha claim them as their countrymen and fellow- citizens ; though there are such men, there are few such women. The natural love of country, so amiable, so valuable, could not be so long in making its home in the female heart. The women of Ireland are all Irish. History has made but little note of the female sex, but that little has been, for the most part, a record of excellence. The beautiful lines of the •* weary and worn traveller," might be applied to IRISH WOMEN. 67 the pilgrimage of mankind, from his first outset in the wilderness of the world. Even in their vices they have not always been depraved ; nor have sin and seduction been always able to darken entirely the brightness and purity of a nature, deriving a mysterious energy from its delicacy and gentleness. From Esther to Portia and Aspasia, the sex has shown its devotedness, and talent and redeeming virtues. In our day it has assumed the rank it is entitled to ; the bril- liant genius of De Stael and a long line of illus- trious females, have done more than the argu- ments of Godwin, to give the sex its proper place and value in society, without withdrawing them from their happy and privileged seclu- sion. Christianity accomplished for the sex, what neither the fine genius of Greece, nor the elevated intellect of Rome could achieve. The mild and gentle spirit of this religion gave strength and power to whatsoever was mild and gentle. The sex rose into importance, as ferocity and cruelty ceased to be virtues ; and like most bodies, while yet their proper place was unfixed, they shot upwards in their ascent, and passed into a region of strange and almost ludicrous elevation ; this was the region of chivalry. D S 38 IRISH WOMEN. In their declension from this uncomfortable height, the sex has almost found its true level; and perhaps nowhere is this more correctly ascertained than in Ireland. The genius of the nation fixed it so, that nothing should be lost of female delicacy, as in France : and that nothing should be sacrificed, as in England, to an ex- treme reserve. We have touched the character of the women of Ireland, merely as it serves to illustrate that of the nation of which they form part. Like their nation, they hold an intermediate place between the French and the English w^omen, and are possessed of some of the best qualities of both. 39 POLICY OF ENGLAND. 1 HE policy of England, with respect to the sister island, has been strikingly consistent up nearly to the age we live in. It presents us with one unvarying exhibition of harshness, neglect, and injustice, and with a constant succession of weak and temporary expedients. Down to the reign of Elizabeth, the English government in Ireland, extending over no more than a portion of Leinster, and a few towns on the eastern coast, was wholly occupied in a struggle to preserve this small territory, or, occa- sionally, in efforts to extend it. Elizabeth ac- quired the sovereignty of the whole island. She appears to have been aware of the importance of her Irish dominions ; and her vigorous councils did not wholly disregard the claims of justice and humanity. D 4 40 POLICY OF ENGLAND. The vanity of James the First was to be gra- tified by extensive schemes of colonization. The sweeping magnificence of these projects brushed away the petty obstacles of humanity and justice. Charles involved Ireland in the misery of his unsteady and insincere policy. Cromwell came to apply the usual remedy of blood. The hand of destiny went before this conqueror, and re« moved the accomplished General O'Neil. The kingdom was opened to Cromwell, and the danger of separation, which then threatened, was removed. There has been, on many occasions^ something like this special interference of Provi- dence in the affairs of Ireland. The Restoration brought new calamities, and the Revolution again poured out its vial of wrath upon this devoted island. At length the star of William rose in peace and splendor above the horizon, and made promise of happy days ; but it was the destiny of Ireland that she should not have peace, as long as the perfidious race of the Stuarts held dominion in Britain : until Anne expired there was no respite for Ireland. Nor did the baleful influence of this high and un- happy family wear itself out entirely, even under the healthful ascendant of the Hanoverian line., for one or two generations. POLICY OF ENGLAND. 41 In the reign of the thh'd George, Ireland was cheered and invigorated witli the warmth of a genuine paternal kindness in the crown. A sense of the benefits conferred upon the country by this good and excellent monarch, has sunk deep into the hearts of the people ; and, even in the heat and violence of the Insurrection in 1798, they could not be wholly detached from their allegiance to their sovereign. This prince has left to his son and successor, the rich inheritance of a people's love. A crown is a vulgar thing compared with this truly royal diadenL And we are bound to say, that his present Majesty wears it with the grace and the dignity of an undis- puted title — it sits gloriously upon a head able to comprehend the value of this bright inherit- ance, and to preserve it. The Irish have been ever a faitliful people, and from their fidelity, much of their misfortunes have flowed. Faithful to their native chiefs and institutions — faithful to the religion of their ancestors — faithful to the House of Stuart even in its despair, — they have, in all these in- stances, been sufferers. Yet is faithfulness the rarest and most precious of virtues : few nations or individuals wear it long, for this splendid gem is a mark at which calamity ever aims her arrow, and death and woeful destruction have been the ,42 POLICY OF ENGLAND. price exacted, and too oflen paid, for this most glorious gift of Heaven. The Anglo-Irish transferred their allegiance with great facility, from Charles to the parli- ament, and from the parliament again to the second Charles, and afterwards from James to William. Without taking much concern in the matters which led to these changes in England, they took up, generally, whatsoever cause pre- vailed in that country, and found their account in their versatility. The Irish of ancient race pursued an opposite line of conduct, and^ were ruined by their fidelity. The English cabinet having found a party in Ireland, whose allegiance to the crown was of a transferable quality, and whose attachment to the constitution was of a manageable kind, whose uniform policy was that of the good old " Vicar of Bray," were not slow in dis- covering the advantages to be derived from so accommodating a principle and so convenient a party, sure that whatsoever measures were pur- sued in England, would, provided they were suc- cessful, have the approbation of their friends in Ireland : they were relieved from the painful ne- cessity of considering them, with a view to the POLICY OF ENGLAND. 43 opinions which might be formed of them in that country. Treason, therefore, hatched in secu- rity her plots against the throne, or directed, in full confidence, the designs of a deceived and unhappy prince against the constitution. The moral control of Ireland was taken away. There was but one condition which this party insisted upon. They required that the ancient population of the country should be put under their feet ; that they should be indulged with a monopoly of power, or, at all events, with a monopoly of emoluments ; and that their deal- ings as to this power and these emoluments, should not be too strictly enquired into. These conditions w^ere generally complied with : and pretty nearly upon these principles has the go- vernment of Ireland descended down to a pe- riod not far removed from us. The enormous abuses to which this disgrace- ful compromise surrendered the country, could scarcely be imagined. The Anglo-Irish deter- mined to make the most of their compact, and while yet there was time to reap the full harvest of this rich field of ruin, pushed their fbr- times to the utmost. They were led into acts of unheard of injustice and violence, which were 44 POLICY OF ENGLAND. retaliated with as little regard to humanity, un- til the country became utterly brutalized. The English government of that time, on the other hand, secure of the country in every event, by means of the convenient understanding they had established, were tempted to perpetrate acts of the most flagitious wickedness, which, provided they did not bear directly upon the contract- ing party, they considered themselves free to commit. It was a contract of tyranny upon the one hand, and of rapine on the other ; and in process of time the dealings of these two par- ties became as open and regular as any ordinary traffic whatsoever. The great undertakers for the Protestant ascendancy, waited in form upon the agent of the British cabinet, at the castle of Dublin, and the terms of the bargain, by which one was permitted to misgovern, and the other to plunder the country, were adjusted in due form. Of the dreadful working of this system we have abundant evidence j its effects are all around us. Lord Strafford, in the reign of Charles the First, conceived himself at liberty to practise all manner of enormities. He destroyed the woollen manufacture, which he found beginning to flou- rish in the country, because it was thought likely POLICY OF ENGLAND, 45 to interfere with that of England.* He estab- lished an mqiiisition into titles, which, proceed- ing upon the assumption that the title o£ all the land in the kingdom is in the King, those who could not shew a grant from the crown were de- clared to forfeit their estates, though they might have derived them from ancestors in possession for ages before the connection of the two coun- tries. Those whose titles were not deemed to be clear, were compelled to take new grants from the crown, for which they paid excessive fines. And when juries could not be induced to find against titles, contrary to evidence and their oaths, they were heavily amerced and sent to prison. Such was the government of Ireland in those days. Such the protection afforded to the subject by the boasted constitution of Eng- land : and such was Lord Strafford, the Jaithful and eulogized servant of Charles. This was not merely the character of the go- vernment under Charles. Lord Strafford found the government of the island bearing this charac- ter of shameless wickedness. But before his time, the " mere Irish" had been exclusively the objects of state enormities. Tliis able man, * He established the linen manufacture in its place, as some compensation. It was by no means an equivalent. More decided steps were afterwards taken in the reign of William III. to destroy the woollen manufacture of Ireland. 46 POLICY OF ENGLAND. keeping a single eye to his master's interests, ad- ministered injustice and oppression with an equal hand to all parties. He scorned and derided the distinctions which would have taken a class of persons, whom he despised, out of the scope of his measures, and made them sharers in a nar- row and circumscribed plunder; when his aim was to make them victims. He would not stoop to be an oppressor, to serve the purposes of a contemptible party ; but he would be any thing to serve the prince he loved. He deserved praise for his impartiality; he deserved death for his oppressions. And the prince who deserted him in his extremity, deserved execration. The equal and indifferent despotism of Lord Strafford was infinitely to be preferred to the par- tial tyranny of other governors ; or to the dread- ful system of ruling by means of a party which has been the bane of Ireland. Under such a sys- tem, there was no peace for the country. Nor was peace possible. An Irish rebellion was the mine in which every man worked out his fortune ; and happy was he who could open a new vein of insurrection. The tools of the miners were in- sults, oppressions, religious persecutions, and ficti- tious plots. We do not say that every insurrec- tion in Ireland was brought about in this way ; but we are sure that the greater number were. The POLICY OF ENGLAND. 47 miners were sometimes blown up unexpectedly by an aukw^ard explosion ; for there was no "safety lamp" to meet the perils of this dark adventure. But the bold spirits of that day w^ere not easily frighted from the pursuit of gain. Other and readier hands were soon found. The confiscations and grants of land which followed every defeated insurrection, were the golden ore which consoled the adventurers. Irish confederates and allies, though sometimes found, were reluctantly admitted, for they narrowed the field of confiscation. The Lord President of Munster, in the reign of Elizabeth, refused to admit a man of rank into the peace and service of the Queen, until he had connnitted murder upon some person of consequence, of his own kindred and party. These were the terms of his acceptance ; and, more wonderful still, they were complied with. And in the reign of Henry VII., Lord Gorman ston, after a victory over the Irish, turned to tlie Earl of Kildare, and exclaimed, *' We have slaughtered our enemies, but, to complete the good deed, we must now cut the throats of those Irish of our own party.*' Of the wickedness of this svstem there can be no question. Of its impolicy we have to say a word or two. It utterly destroyed the gentry 48 POLICY OF ENGLAND. of old Irish race. The uninterrupted working of five or six hundred years had accompHshed their ruin. They were rooted out of the land of their fathers ; but the memory of their race has not perished. New families have taken their places, but as yet are far from having acquired their privileges. Between the new race of gen- try and the people there is no sympathy or confidence yet established. The government is in the perilous and awful situation of being entirely without a medium by which they could communicate with the people. The gentry, for all political purposes, are a non- conductor. The state cannot act upon the bulk of the people. And the lightning may circulate fearfully in the dark mass of the population, and the government may sit in its place in woeful security, unconscious of the impending storm. This uselessness of the gentry and helplessness of the government have been often unhappily demonstrated in Ireland. Every event has tended to enlarge the wide and void space which separates the people from the upper classes in that country — like the desolate fron- tiers of the German tribes of old, whose pride and safety lay in the extent of the desert which surrounded them. The gentry, separated by POLICY OF EJ^GLAND. 49 blood and prejudice, were further removed from the people by the Reformation. Scotland was more fortunate in this portion of her history. Her gentry were not exter- minated, but were wisely preserved by the crown. Hence that nation presents us with one uniform structure of society — one firm and solid mass of well-arranged materials, built up in power and in happiness. Hence it was that the reformed religion succeeded so extensively in Scotland. Adopted by the gentry after the example of the crown, the people in their turn took up the religion of their natural guides and leaders, and this great work was easily and -quietly effected. The unhappy policy pursued in Ireland threw insuperable obstacles in the way of the Re- formation in that country. The gentry, indeed, adopted the religion of tlie state, but the people would not follow them, for they were strangers in the land. If the rage for confis- cation and a wiser policy could have spared the ancient gentry, these too, would have embraced the religion of the crown, as did the O'Briens, and a few others, whom an extraordinary for- tune preserved ; and the people would have fol- lowed their leading. VOL. I. E 50 POLICY OF ENGLAND. The descendants also of the bold and liir" bulent chieftains, who brooked impatiently the dominion of a foreigner, would in our time be found as complaisant to the government, and as faithful to the British throne as any Scotch or English peer in parliament. And from them would have descended to the people a true knowledge and just impression of the king and the constitution. The father of his peo- ple — their most precious inlieritance. The people would have sent back, through these natural channels, the full tide of their warm affections. The king w^ould have found hands by which he could have reached his people, and mouths by which he could have spoken to their hearts. He is now without either. There are hands, indeed, but they are only grasped in deadly strife — and there are mouths, but they speak a foreign and often unknown tongue. The per- verse policy of England has cut in pieces the living body of the nation. Every thing is broken and disjointed. And she has hardly yet put off the fatal delusion of her former system. While she has trifled, and delayed, and hesitated, the people have grown up into an immense and almost hostile power, menacing the gentry with anew struggle, and the state with a fierce and IS POLICY OF ENGLAND* ol formidable insurrection. She should at length be decided. To get rid of the enormities of the ascendancy system, Mr. Pitt proposed the Union. Then, and not till then, these enormities were confessed and exposed in the parliaments of both nations* Mr. Pitt carried his measure ; but the system has continued to drag on, an odious and annoys ing existence. The Union had the effect proposed. It un- tied the hands of government. It loosened its dependence upon party, and restored to the state the privilege of good government. But no essential change followed. The country had now to endure all the evils of the Union, and they were many and formidable, in addition to the evils of the old system. There was some mystery involved in the transactions w^hich followed the Union. It was not surprising, perhaps, after the deadly contest which took place at that period, between the parties which had so long divided the power and the profits of government in Ireland, that there should be some memory of past affection, some lingering kindness, some returning good-will, to bring them together again. E 'r2 52 POLICY OF ENGLAND. It is true, that in moments of irritation the green was seen blended with the orange, and the old party of the undertakers talked big, and threatened to hoist this formidable standard of rebellion. But the minister had them in a di- lemma, and long intercourse made him to know them well. He sootlicd them with the price of the boroughs, and when all was finished, he tendered the terms of a new contract. They were no lono-er to be masters, but as servants they miglit hope for much. Whiat could they do ? They could not appeal to the people, — their past conduct had made them odious to the country. They could not take up arms against the state and fight their own battles. They did what was more congenial to their habits. They accepted the humiliating conditions offered them^ and were content to feed upon the crumbs which fell from that table where they used to preside^ and carve so gloriously the first portion of good things for themselves, and the second and last for the government. Since the Union, the old principle of the Irish government has struggled for existence, and not vmsuccessfully. It had been an old and fav^ourite servant of the Castle. Occasionallv kicked and abused, it had crouched and fawned upon the chastiser, and been again caressed and POLICY OF ENGLAND. 58 received into favour ; but though fawning upon its master, it was fierce to its victim, and impa- tient of controuL It was this principle which tore up the earth under Lord FitzwilHam, and precipitated him from his seat at the moment he was dreaming of plans of beneficence and wisdom. Many good men liave contended with it, and have not succeeded ; for it unites the strength and ferocity of the tiger with the cunning and lubricity of the serpent. Mr. Peel was said to be the patron of this principle ; but he had the address and the humanity to keep it in check. It overturned Mr. Grant, as it had done Lord FitzwilHam. The Marquess Wellesley would disdain to be its patron. He will be its master. The ablest man of his family, one of the ablest men of our day, we hope much from the vigour, the policy, and the humanity of his government. We rely strongly upon the kindness and good feeling of the mo- narch, which the noble marquess has wisely and properly displayed, as the new principle of his government. The people feel all the confidence which they ought in their king ; but they distrust the coun- teracting principle of the Irish government ; not the noble viceroy, but the tainted air of the E 3 54 POLICY OF ENGLAND. castle. Time, as well as wise measures, are ne- cessary to give to government the confidence of the people. We do not think that all the evils of Ireland are summed up in the Catholic question. When this measure shall be carried, much will yet re- main to be done for the safety and tranquillity of that country. Its effects will, no doubt, be eminently beneficial. After some time it will subdue the tone of insolence assumed by igno-- rant and vulgar Protestants, as a privileged party. It will, perhaps, induce the Catholic gentry to take a greater interest in public affairs.. And alluring them, by degrees to come forth from out of the mke of mere personal indul- gences, it may teach them, that there are higher enjoyments in Hfe than luxurious living, and the quiet and safe sensualities which wealth affords. It may rouse them from their state of Epicurean carelessness and contempt for the general weal ; and this morbid mass may yet blush with a new and heathful circulation. But it is to the poor and the peasantry that a wise system of policy must direct its measures.. Here is the seat of the disease. We do not say that the repeal of the disqualifying laws will have ao effect upon it. We think it will have a very POLICY OF ENGLAND. 55 salutary one. As far as it goes it is a wise and necessary measure ; but it is not sufficient ; the gangrene is too deep ; and as it was produced of old by the combined action of a great num- ber of pestilent causes, so it will yield only to the application of various and powerful reme- dies. The condition of the peasantry must be in- quired into. They must be relieved from the oppression of tithes and churcli rates ^ care must be taken for the cheap and efficient admi- nistration of justice ; the utmost attention must be paid tliat the poor be educated by such in- struction in letters, and in moral and Christian truth, as may be communicated by a cheap but sound and efficient form of teaching. Industry should be promoted, emigration facilitated, and manufactures encouraged. All this is wanting in Ireland. And without this the solid strata of society will be exposed to frequent and violent shakings, if not mingled by some dreadful ex- plosion in one awful mass of ruin. It is also of the first necessity to promote, by every means, the intercourse of the two united nations. What can be thought of that incor- porate union which permits a system of duties, and custom-house officialitiCvS, and exactions, to i: 4 56 POLICY OF ENGLAND. subsist between two portions of this incorporate empire as between any two foreign states or governments ? Is it possible that his Majesty's ministers can be ignorant of the moral effect of this system ? Or do they choose to incur the evil consequences for the sake of the revenue ? The pretence, we know, is the protection of the Irish manufacturer. But the Irish manufac- turer had twenty years' notice. This was long- enough. He had no right to calculate upon such a- piece of impolicy as has occurred ; nor did he calculate upon it ; both nations were pre- pared for tlie change which was expected to take place, and arrangements had been made with a view to it. The continuation of these duties is now injurious to both nations. The manufactures which could be protected by them are too few and inconsiderable to deserve notice ^ judgment had been done upon them, and the protection which was now offered was a new injury. The terms of the Union ought not to have been de- parted from in any particular ; they should have been observed with the utmost strictness ; and where there was a doubt as to the construction, — in every such case the interpretation should have been in favour of that party which had the double claim of being the weaker, and of havings been the only sufferer by the contract. POLICY OF ENGLAND. 5^ But in the two cases in which the terms of the Union came in question, the interests of Ireland found no favour. We allude to the miserable higgling upon the spirit trade. We were told that the county of Cork was to be like the county of Kent or Suffolk ; so com- plete was to be the union of the two countries. But the trader who ships his w^ares at Cork for Bristol, or the gentleman who goes for business or pleasure from one town to the other, will find to his cost and annoyance, that this imaginary unity is no more than a name. He will be able to discern no distinction in the formalities he has to encounter, whether he come from Cork or Dublin, or Brest or Bordeaux. All this has a tendency to prevent people's minds from settling into any thing like a feeling or recognition of the reality of the union they have heard of. The Irishman sees nothing in it, but the extinction of the parliament which sat in Dublin ; and this naked fact he feels to be a great evil. The Englishman has no evidence of it whatever. There was, in the minds of the mass of the people of both countries towards each other, something that was far from being a friendly or cordial feeling. To remove this called for all the powers of legislation. But the 5S POLICY OF ENGLAND. measures of ministers not only do not remove it, but they throw obstacles in the way of whatever tendency it might have to run off and dissipate itself in mutual intercourse. The custom-house regulations on both sides the channel, not only keep alive the sense of distinctness, but they prevent intercourse, and reduce this, which would be the greatest possible national advantage, to its smallest point. It may be thought that these duties and custom-house regulations have but little effect upon the intercourse of the two nations. AVe are convinced they have a very serious influence ; and the worst is their moral effect upon the minds of the people. We should advise that this paltry revenue be sacrificed, to the great object of promoting the union of the two islands, in fact as in name. We would suggest too, that it will be found to be wise as well as just policy, to afford to Ireland every advantage and favour that can be conferred upon her. She it is that has suffered by the Union. Every means ought to be employed to compensate the evils that have come upon her. It is pitiful to see England, with all her great advantages — the seat of boundless wealth, and commerce, and manufactures, the seat of govern- ment and legislation, and, by means of the Union, and the profit she makes of Irish absentees. POLICY OF ENGLAND, 59 draining the little blood that remained in the veins of the sister country — in the midst of her great possessions and wonderful accumulations, devising special pleas upon the act of union. This is a policy full of peril. In our days, no partial or injurious system of government can endure. If it is thought safe, because of tlie weakness of Ireland, this too is a mistake. Ireland is not weak. She is poor ; but poverty has some- times the strength of desperation. She has been disciplined by her own defeated insurrections ; — she has been trained in the wars of the French revolution ; — and she is now full of veteran soldiers, the conquerors of Spain and Portugal, and the field of Waterloo. The perils wliich beset misgovernment, are not, as is imagined, accidental or contingent, the effect of particular circumstances, or the work of particular incUviduals. They rather spring up in the fulness of time, from the deep and rapid current of popular opinion, like genii from some enchanted lake, armed with irresist- ible power, and commissioned to change the forms and relations of all things. There is a moral power which in our age has assumed the government of the world, and will 60 POLICY OF ENGLAND. henceforth rule over the kings of the earth. They will struggle against this obnoxious domi- nion for a period, then yielding to irresistible com- pulsion, the crowns and sceptres of the nations will be lowered before the throne of the univer- sal Monarch, who will confirm their vice-regency, and there will be peace in the world. A wild democracy has indeed sometimes gone before this principle, as in France, like the rush- ing of the tempest, which precedes the sun, and announces that he has set his throne in the equi- nox, and is about to dispense equal favour and impartial influence over all his kingdoms. But these are storms which pass away, while the power of just principle remains for ever. It will not endure the despotism of democracy, nor the despotism of monarchy, nor the despotism of mi- litary ascendancy. We have full proof of this in the progress of the French revolution, its commencement and its result. In this great experiment it was established, that in this age there can be no despotism, and that no go- vernment is enduring, which is not adapted to the genius and condition of the people for whose benefit it is established. To kings and governors splendour and honour are due, but the people have an equal title that their liberties be re- POLICY OF ENGLAND. 6l spected, and that the utmost care and diligence be employed for their welfare. These obvious and simple principles are now recognised and understood throughout Europe, and the means by which they are leducible to practice are also known. All the nations seek a representative system. They have for ages been perusmg the lesson which Great Britain placed before their eyes. From this they have all learned. France afforded them, in the errors and mistakes which she made, an almost equally instructive example. With England upon one side, and France upon the other, the path of rational liberty is pretty accurately traced out. All the people of Europe will walk in this path ; there is no power which can stay their progress, or turn them out of their course. There is a degree of suffering too, which can- not be borne, and of which government may be almost wholly innocent. It is amazing what a degree of wretchedness the people will bear with patience. But when they are utterly borne down, and pressed beyond all endurance, then come great changes, or great conflicts. The people rise up in fierce insurrection, not because they are disposed to do so, but because they cannot help it. They seek, perliaps, to justify 62 POLICY OF ENGLAND. themselves, and they discover grievances they had hardly tliought of before. Such insurrections as these may take place at the very time governments may be best dis- posed, and most anxious to do their duty. They become astonished at the perverseness and in- gratitude of the people. But these commo* tions, like the earthquake at Lisbon, or Carrac- cas, are not the work of the inert matter which we see in motion, but the effect of deep and irresistible causes. We must not blame the po- pulace, they will subside into quietness, if we remove the power which impels them. What- ever we may say of the philosophy, or the dema- gogues of France, famine, and want of employ- ment, were the chief agents of the revolution in its commencement. vSo many causes are neces- sary to concur in great political changes, that we are apt to overlook many, while we are employ- ed in considering those which happen to engage our attention. Ireland is nearly in the situation in which France was previous to the revolution, or per- haps in a worse one. A population crowded to excess, without employment, and almost without food. It seemed to be the policy of the state til at war and agriculture sliould form the staple POLICY OF ENGLAND. 6S of that kingdom. It is dangerous to tamper with the staple of any country. But the peace has utterly destroyed the twofold staple of Ire- land. What will the government now do with this people for whom they first provided a staple, and then took it away ? The highlanders of vScotland and the Irish peasantry, as they are one race of men, so they are alone and above all in the day of battle. There is a hardiness of sinew, and firmness of heart, like the living rock of their own moun- tains, which belongs to them alone. The soldiers of England possess a moral power, and an un- bending steadfastness which places them above the warriors of the continent ; but thev do not rush to battle with the keen delight of the Irish ; they do not shed their blood as water ; they do not mock at death. The Highlander has been disciplined into more sobriety of feeling than the Irishman ; but both display in the field of bat- tle a power which rises into grandeur and sublim- ity in its scorn of human eflbrts, and its con- tempt of danger and suffering ; — a power be- forewhich, when well led, there is nothing on this solid globe which must not bend and be broken. Such men are fit for soldiers. But this is a vocation which lias its periods o[' intermission. 64 POLICY OF ENGLAND. These are periods of great danger. Buonaparte pushed his mihtary system, until it went on of its own motion, and bore him away to destruc- tion who had given the impulse. Agriculture is ruined, and war is at an end, and every thing in Ireland indicates by a tremulous and uncer- tain vibration, that clianges are at hand. We would advise, that government guide, and go before these inevitable changes, rather than oppose them. The system of policy, with re- gard to Ireland, must be changed. It is well that the first important change originated with the monarch himself, and was the spontaneous movement of a kind and generous feeling in the royal bosom. The king's visit to Ireland was a new measure, undertaken in kindness. But it was as wise and as important as it was kind. We should be glad to see it established as a settled habit of the crown, that the king should fre- quently, and at stated times, hold his court in Dublin. The city of Dublin is worthy of the royal presence. The effect of the occasional residence of the crown, would be to promote, in a very great degree, the intercourse between the two islands. It would make many acquainted with Ireland whom no other occurrence would be likely to bring to her shores ; it would bring back, at . POLICY OF ENGLAND. 65 least for a season, many Irisli absentees, whom fashion or association appeared to have fixed permanently in England ; it would give such persons a motive to improve their estates and their family mansions. The royal example would give an importance to the country, which it had not yet possessed, in the minds of weak and fastidious persons of wealth and rank. Led by these inducements, and rehing upon the frequent \isits of royalty, many would, perhaps, tix ultimately their residence in that country, which was the proper scene of their duties and obligations. These are great and important advantages, and would tend materially to consolidate the union of the two islands, and to diminish the evils at- tendant upon the mere legislative measiu'e. But this is not all : if the measure we recommend be viewed as affecting the minds and imaginations of the Irish people, it will not appear to be less important. They are a people won by slight ex- hibitions of kindness : they are fond of pomp, and parade, and distinction. A measure so new, and so flattering, and attended otherwise by be- nefits so considerable, would not fail to knit the hearts of this facile people to the throne and go- vernment of England. VOL. J. F 66 POLICY OF ENGLAND. The people of Ireland are indebted to the British nation for ages of calamity — to the British throne, from the second Henry to the last of the Stuarts, for no one good measure, but for every aggravation with which weakness, violence, and duplicity, could load an evil des- tiny. They received from the father of his pre- sent Majesty, the first measure of good things ; and, from the inheritor of that father's throne, and generous feeling, new and strong intimations of paternal consideration. The affections of the Irish people have never yet been round the Bri- tish throne in all their fulness and power. High and splendid as this throne is, there was a void and darkness about it, which he, who can fill up and [^illuminate with his peoples' love, will be worthy of a place beyond all conquerors and legislators. The vulgar triumphs of the sword, and the more odious achievements of corruption, may form the laurels of common-place heroes and statesmen ; but the trophies of the throne should be the love of the people. 67 PENAL LAWS. 1 HE Religion which has mingled itself so much with the affairs of the world and with the pas- sions of men, cannot be the Christian religion. This disowns the world, and expressly disclaims its kingdom ; it would not, therefore, contend for any temporal profit or dominion, nor w^ould it overthrow error by violence and injustice. Good is often effected by evil agencies, but those agencies remain evil ; they do not change their nature, and the best effects which follow from their working, are tainted with the impu- rities of their original creation. Evil is never necessary for the production of good — the same results may, in all cases, be obtained by a process liable to no objection. Those who rely upon the sword, and upon per- secution, direct or indirect, as means of upholding the power of the state or the truth of religion, are bad politicians and worse Christians. A time F 2 68 PENAL JLAWS. must come when the sword will be broken, and the strongest spear of the tyrant w^ill be shat- tered. If we could suppose religious truth as- sociated with violence and injustice, sharing in their triumphs, and partaking of their spoil ; sitting in high places, stained with blood, and surrounded wdth fierce passions and polluted hands, there could not be a more humiliating spectacle, nor a more horrible vision. Christianity disowns the penal code of Ire- land. It could have no connection with laws which sought their object through every variety of moral tui-pitude — which offered premiums for the blackest pei'fidy, and rewards for the basest of passions ; and when it had raked together, from out the vices and the villanies of mankind, a mass of the foulest pollution, applied it to adorn the edifice of the state, or dragged it as an acceptable sacrifice into the house of God. It was not Christianity which tempted the unhappy son or brother to the plunder of his parent or kinsman, and led him to perdition with a bribe. It was not Christianity which threw its shadow over the whole land, filling the hearts of the people with horror and fear of each other, in the darkness of which crime walked abroad with an assured and authorised step, visiting with im- PENAL LAWS. 69 partial assiduity, the mansions of the rich and the cottages of the poor. It was not Christianity that followed the weary victim of civil dissension into the privacy and retirement of his house- hold, warring with the confidence and kindness of his domestic circle, banishing the light laugh of innocence, and the smile of sympathy from his board, making his hearth cold and desolate, forcing the heart of the parent to shudder in the presence of his child, and to mingle anguish with his love. It was not Christianity, which, after invading and polluting the sanctity of private life, after tearing to pieces all the charities and obligations of kindred, went forth upon the high-way to fill the measure of its brutal ra])acity with the plunder of the passengers ; that robbed the tra- veller of his horse, if its value exceeded five pounds, and made the robber its appraiser ; that levied contributions upon the piety of the people, taxing them for worshipping God according to the custom of their fathers ; that persecuted the priest as a felon, and made his ministration a crime, asserting that his religion had its root in ignorance, and nourishing that root with all the assiduity of legislation. It w^as made penal to keep school and to teach F 3 70 PENAL LAWS. the rudiments of knowledge. Reading and writing were to be discouraged as incompatible with the Protestant religion. And w^hile the people were racked by a ferocious persecution, because of the alleged errors of their faith, the light was anxiously withheld, in which alone those errors, if they existed, could be discerned. These laws disarmed the people, that they might not resist oppression ; took away the means of instruction, that in their ignorance they might not know^ their rights; provided with a deep and anxious policy for the ruin of private families, by offering a bounty for ingratitude and crime, and for the destruction of private property, by regulating its descent with a view to its destruction ; and having accompHshed their purposes, in the poverty and the misery of the people, they made sure of their work by carefully guarding and blocking up every avenue by w^hich property in land might be acquired. Having done this, they proceeded to slander and stigmatise the prostrate people for the very wretchedness, the deep and woeful ignorance, and the brutality which they sought wdth so much skill and earnestness to accomplish. The penal code presents an awfully perfect system, wonderfully adapted to its end. It PENAL LAWS. 71 was more cruel and detestable, because more cold and calculating ; because it sought its ob- ject with greater circuity, and with a more managed regard for the opinion of the world, than the massacre of Bartholomew's, or the slaughter of the Waldenses, or the more dignified barbarity of the Inquisition. The two former were naked and hideous atrocities; they exhibit the fierce passions of the barbarians of that day, rushing upon their enemy with undisguised and unpretending cruelty. The Inquisition was a priestly and fanatical institution, built up by the plausible wickedness of churchmen, but it pro- ceeded at once against its victim, and exliibited the dungeon, and the torture, and the flame, without reserve or pretence. Its object was to prevent tlie introduction of a new doctrine, not to eradicate an old one. Its courts and officials, and all its polished machinery, were greatly in- feriour, in depth of design and extent of oper- ation, to the penal code of Ireland. The Inqui- sition had not a whole nation for its object ; nor did it, while it shunned the odium and the scandal of the auto da Je, and solitary imprisonment, — while it left its victim at large, yet surround him with a net- work of cruelty, and set a brand upon him, which embarrassed and disgraced him in private and in public, which consumed his pro- perty and destroyed his comforts, and though F 4 7^ PENAL LAWS. guiltless of his blood, yet visited him with a more complex, perplexing, and disastrous ruin ; meet- ing him in all his dealings with his neighbours, in the bosom of his family, in the management of his property ; pursuing him with a teasing and relentless persecution, in court, and in par- liament, in his own household, and on the high- way, and preserving his life only to make it insupportable. The Inquisition, satiate with blood, slumbered at times. The penal laws executed themselves, but not fully. The Inquisition blazed out occa- sionally in all its horrors, and was endured. Civil society was not burned up in these conflagrations ; but if the penal laws had been always rigidly ex- ecuted, society could not have subsisted. The Protestants of Ireland satisfied, generally, with a monopoly of power and profit, shrank, for the most part, from the execution of the more odious provisions of the law\ It is not always in human nature to execute all the barbarities which the imagination can con- ceive, or ingenuity devise ; but this neither im- proves the condition of the victim, nor relieves the character of the tyrant. It were better if bad laws were strictly executed. They could not long subsist if deprived of the support which PENAL LAWS. 79 they derive from a managed lenity and affected moderation. He is not the less a tyrant who in- sists only on the power to persecute, if he shall think proper; and furnished with this, abstains from persecution. Nor is he less a miserable slave who holds his life and property at the will of his neighbour, though he incur no loss of either. It were more merciful to execute the sentence of the law in its utmost rigoiu', than con- demn the wretched victim to the unutterable tor- ment of a perpetually-suspended condemnation.. It is a mistake to think that the penal laws were never executed in their utmost severity and barbarity. They were, frequently. And we could fill our paper with details of the most hide- ous enormities perpetrated under the authority of these laws. We could present such a phan- tasmagoria of liunted priests, and ruined families — wretches wailing for their lost subsistence, or grasping in agony at perjury and sacrilege to save them from beggary, and protect their inlieritanee. We could exhibit the profaned and polluted altar, surrounded by the tortured victims of persecu- tion, swearing to a falsehood, and avowing their conformity to be a lie — invoking the Deity to Avitness their guilt and their misery, and drink- ing the cup of the New Testament in the midst of horror, agony, and imprecations. 74 PENAL LAWS. The law required only the external act of con- formity, and disregarded the inward motive. But we turn from such scenes. The pen of the his- torian must treat them with the grave indig- nation they deserve. We would rather dwell upon those bright, though rare and scattered in- stances of the goodness and dignity of our nature, which are liappily to be found illuminating, at intervals, the dark mass of vice and wickedness, which adds its w^eight to the woes of nations, and lies heavily upon them in the season of their suf- fering. In the tranquillity of ordinary life, the higher virtues do not appear ; it is only when the storm bloM^s and the heavens are darkened, that the light of a glorious magnanimity invests the gloom with its brightness, or the ray of a fine and steadfast integrity reconciles us to life. There were few Catholic estates that were not vested in those times in Protestant trustees ; and there are instances upon record of the highest honour and the most exalted generosity in the management of these important trusts. There were friendships that could not be broken, and hearts which could not be corrupted by the bar- barity of the laws. The memory of these things is fading fast away, and will soon be past. It were desirable that some memorial should re- main, to prove how little human laws can effect PENAL LAWS. ?5 when they outrage human nature, and to show, notwithstanding the bitter conflicts which Pro- testant and Cathohc have \vaged in Ireland, how many claims each has upon the other for love and admiration. In the tempest of civil commotion, the humblest of mankind finds space for the exercise of feeling and faithfulness ; the general calamity raises his level, andhe feels hispow^er to injure or to save; his good or evil affections shoot into sudden maturity, and become strong in the rude visitations to which they are exposed. A great portion ^of the estates of one of the largest counties in Ireland was conveyed to a Protestant barber, whose whole property did not exceed a few pounds in value, and whose self-importance was never raised by the great extent of estate which he held in fee. This man was faithful as he was humble and un- assuming, and died as poor and as honest as he lived. Even at this distance, we might envy the feel- ings of this good man, who, without pretending to be wise, had in his simplicity done for him- self all that the most perfect wisdom could ac- complish. He had surrounded himself with a tide of kind and cordial affections ; he had pro- cured a luxury which wealth and power have in 76 PENAL LAWS. vain essayed to purchase, and there can be no doubt that he possessed the capacity to enjoy the rich and rare repast of tlie heart, which he had prepared for himself. Such characters as these reconcile us to our species, when we turn away with disgust and loathing from the wretched contests and the mean ambition of rank and power, and the treachery and venality which cover the earth. The penal laws were a violation of the treaty of Limerick ; this has been denied, but we think it admits of no question. And, indeed, what treaty has ever been observed between the wolf and the lamb — the armed and the unarmed — the powerful and the prostrate ? These laws have been attempted to be justified also on the ground of necessity. They were necessary, it is alleged, for the security of the new* order of things established at the Revolution. This is, at best, under the circumstances, a very suspi- cious plea. We have never seen it proved. We are of opinion there never was a case where such a plea could be urged with less reason. The war had put the Protestants in possession of all the lands of the country ; the govern- ment was in then: hands ; they w'ere in posses- sion of unHmited power j Great Britain lay close PENAL LAWS. 77 to their shores, ready to support them with her whole strength ; she had been successful m the w^ar ; her general, Marlborough, had his hand upon the throat of France, and all the pow ers of Europe knelt at his feet, or stood at his back his devoted allies. It was at this period, when England w^as clothed in all her might, and in all the splendour of her triumphs ; when she had no enemy that dared meet her in the field ; when all her depen- dencies reposed securely beneath her impenetra- ble shield; when all danger was remote and impos- sible ; — that the greatest and most objectionable portion of the penal laws w^as enacted in Ireland. Not only was the power of England paramount at this period, but the conquering party in Ire- land had no longer an enemy to contend with. The Irish military had enlisted into foreign ser- vice. The heads of Irish families of rank found an honourable asylum in Spain, France, and Austria. They, perhaps, foresaw that the treaty they had concluded would not be observed, and they offered their services to the great powers of the continent, and found fortune, fame, and honour, far from the lands of their nativity. Nothing remained in Ireland, but a few ruined collateral branches of tliese once high and distin- 78 PENAL LAWS. guislied families, and the mere peasantry. These latter were httle to be feared ; their numbers were not formidable ; their poverty and wretch- edness were extreme ; they were without leaders, without money, without arms, and utterly sub- dued. The war had left the country almost de- populated, and almost a desert. — Where, then, was the necessity, to justify these enactments ? It existed, it has been said, in the apprehensions of the predominant party, and the prudence of guarding against future events. We can easily imagine the effect of fear, and the violence of apprehensions, which would not be quieted until heaven and earth had been outraged and abused. We can understand wliat would be the feelings of men, who, having come out of a long and doubtful contest with large possessions, and, perhaps, questionable titles, were willing to sa- crifice every principle of humanity — to offer up human nature itself bound and bleeding, to ap- pease the threatening spectres of their own ima- gination. But after all, this plea of necessity is the very worst that could be used ; — it is the oppressor's plea at all times ; it is the robber's plea when he murders ; it is employed to excuse every enormity ; and, if admitted, it sweeps away every defence which humanity can oppose in the conflicts of the passions, and leaves her utterly defenceless. PENAL LAWS. 79 It has been said, that the worst part of the penal code owes its existence to a mere poUtical juggle. But this, we think, is a still more humiliating view of the case, and exhibits the rulers of nations in a light so odious and con- temptible, that we incline to think it cannot be true. Not that we deem highly of this class of men, or are unacquainted with the low manoeu- vres to which they can descend ; but we can ac- count for the penal laws without this : and though the story of this horrible and ignomini- ous juggle were true, yet these enactments must have found a support in the spirit of the times, or they could not have continued. Looking into the penal laws as they were first enacted, w^e find such as it w^oidd be an indig- nity to our nature to suppose capable of defence or excuse, in any possible or imaginable concur- rence of circumstances. They cannot be de- fended or excused ; nor is there now living any one interested in their justification. The Pro- testants of Ireland, of our day, are guiltless of the penal code ; tliey are called upon for no de- fence of it ; no one imputes to them its iniquity. All that was most intolerable and shocking to our nature has passed away long since ; and that which still lingers on the Statute Book, though deriving its prolonged existence from the spirit %0 PENAL LAWS* of the ancient law, yet presents us with another, though not more sound, defence for its con- tinuance^ We say that the Protestants of Ireland are wholly guiltless of the penal code ; but they are not, by reason of their innocency, set free from the obHgation of atonement. Untainted, as we may be, with the guilt of our fathers — to satisfy for their errors, and make reparation for the wrongs they have done, is a duty which presses itself strongly upon the heart and feelings of every good man. It is a condition, descending with the blood and property of our ancestors, that we do all in our power to satisfy for their offences. We are not called upon to argue for the cor- rectness of this view of our obligations. It is enough if it sustain itself in the common sense and common feelings of mankind. It is a prin- ciple acted upon every day when men pay debts of their fathers, which no legal process could enforce. It is a principle recognised by the law of the land, which makes obligations created by the ancestor to descend with the land, and at- tach upon his remote representative. It is a prin- ciple enforced by the Divine law, which calls 16 PENAL LAWS. 81 upon the children for the penalty of offences committed by fathers far removed. We are heu's to the good and evil of our sires, and in some respects we stand in their places to answer for their doings. The good they leave to descend to us, whether character, constitu- tion, form, or fortune, we use freely, and no one disputes our title. If we admit the reasonable- ness of this law, neither can we dispute that which loads us with the errors of our ancestors, and makes us to bear in our persons, the con- sequences of their trangressions. It seems to be a fixed law of Providence, that crime must be punished or atoned for, and though for a long series of years, the penalty may not be exacted ; yet, will it surely not be remitted. Like some hereditary disease which disappears for a few generations, only to seize with greater and more sudden violence upon the persons of an inno- cent and unconscious posterity. In the wars of Charles and Cromwell — in the wars of William and James, if the Protestants were right, the Catholics were not wrong. The latter war closed the account in Ireland. It was never pretended to treat the brave de- fenders of Limerick as rebels. Subsequent to the peace of Limerick, no event had occurred VOL. I. G 8^ PENAL LAWS. to call for the monstrous abomination of the penal code. It would be a grievous injustice to rely upon transactions long antecedent to that treaty. What is the character of the long wars of Ireland, but the struggles of a brave and im- patient people to preserve the power and the property transmitted to them by their ancestors. A people driven to despair by the changeful and unsteady policy of England, whose history is constantly presenting us with junctures where, while we must lament that they fell off from their allegiance, we are forced to admit, that fre- quently, if they had stood, they must have been something far above, or much below human na- ture. In the whole story from Henry the Second to the peace of Limerick, there is enough of guilt and cruelty on all hands to make us close the account with this conviction, that there is nothing in this dark volume to which any party ought to appeal ; that the lesson it reads is one of oblivion of the past, and that it counsels strongly the adoption of a policy which shall l)lot out the memory of the deadly feuds of an- cient times, by uniting the people in a commu- nity of rights, as they are already united by a com- munity of interests, and a community of blood. It is time that the people of Ireland be con- sidered as no longer distinct races. The blood 13 PENAL LAWS. 83 of the Saxon, and the Milesian, which had so often mingled in the field of battle, has now also found a common channel in the veins of every Irishman. It is time to do away with all disqualifications, and all privileges on account of religious opi- nions. Religion has been too long the badge of party ; a thing by w^hich the aggregation of se- cular interests could be more completely grouped and arranged ; by means of which, those persons who were ranged against each other in fierce contention for powder or property, might more easily recognise a friend, or discern an enemy. Religion was not, in most cases, hardly in any case, the cause of the quarrel. It was some- times the pretence ; but more generally, it was carried merely as the standards of opposing hosts, w^hich, like the ensigns of armies, are looked upon with some mysterious kind of respect and veneration, but are known, after all, to be no more than painted silk or canvas ; and as to the real cause of the contest, are like the idle wind in which they flutter. The cause of the quarrel in Ireland never was religion. If it be the cause of quarrel at the present day, it is a most singular phenomenon ; and if it be not, what is the cause ? The wars of G 2 84 PENAL LAWS. former days had for their object the soil of the country. Never was a land more hardly won or more bravely defended. In the long procession of its wars, the original invaders became natural- ized ; and the descendants of the brave com- panions of Strongbow, were themselves, in their turn invaded, and overthrown by a new race of adventurers. The Strongbonians had never slept in peace ^ — never sheathed the sword from the day of their debarkation, till a new influx of spoilers charged them with the crime of their religion, and their relationship to the " Irish enemy," and sum- moned them to turn and defend themselves. They were not only now of kindred and religion with the Irish, but they shared largely also in the great Irish delinquency, the crime of large possessions. Tliis was a process which took place in Ireland repeatedly ; new adventurers swept away the old, as wave bears down wave with continual succession. What security is there that this should not again be the case ? Suppose another change in the government, or religion of England, Ireland would again be deluged with a flood of eager adventurers ; and the Fitzgeralds, the Barrys, and others, would plead their descent and their PENAL LAWS. SS loyalty in vain. We propose the union of the people as one nation, as the best defence of the landed property of the country. The remnant of the penal code has been of no use to the great proprietors, either for influence or profit, since the Union : but it opens a division, which, in the event of any great national struggle in the other island, could hardly fail to be fatal. Through this gap a host of bold adventurers would pierce, determined to have no peace with the rich, and to find all those in the wrong who had lands and property to lose. The gentlemen of Ireland are not now as their ancestors were ; these had lands to acquire — those have lands to lose ; and the policy which might have been expedient in their acquisition, and immediately after, may be very unwise in the circumstances in which they are now placed. In the perils which are impending over the united empire, new measures are necessary to be adopted, not only by the state, but by every man who has an interest in the country. The politicians of England have abandoned the old policy, to which many of the gentlemen of Ire- land are still willing to adhere, and which yet lingers almost without ministerial support or public countenance, to be a nuisance and dis- grace in the land. G 3 86 PENAL LAWS. We should hope that we touch the time when little more need be said or written upon the penal laws of Ireland, in the spirit of serious- ness, indignation, or advice. It was said of one of the Stuarts that he lost three kingdoms for a mass, and he became the ridicule of Europe. Those, who, in our time, would put their coun- try or their property in peril, to secure the pre- eminence of any sect or creed, must be still greater drivellers. 87 RELIGION. Human nature, in its short sojourn upon earth, touches another world at so many points ; and the interests of that other world, to which we are journeying, are so mingled with the affairs of this, and bear so powerfully upon them, that we can have but an indistinct and imperfect view of any country, or people, if we are not let in to a knowledge of their connections with the region of spirits, and the agency by which those con- nections are maintained. Every where the religion of the people is of the utmost importance ; not merely as it refers to an hereafter, but as it bears upon this world we inhabit. Our business is chiefly with the latter view of the subject. Those who think that it matters little in a po- litical and social view, what superstition prevails among the people, are greatly mistaken. Error G 4 88 RELIGION. can never obtain without injury. If we look closely into the characters of individuals, who are the slaves of falsehood, we shall find them, however naturally strong, yet weakened and de- formed in points of the utmost importance, and this unsoundness and unsightliness eating in, gradually, to the very core of the character. The character of any people is very much de- termined by their views of eternity, and profes- sion of faith. We are just what we think and believe. The fatalism and voluptuousness of Ma- homed's creed have made the Turkish people the fierce and sensual barbarians which we find them. The obscene and cruel superstition of the Hin- doos, has bowed down that people to the dust, a timid profligate race of slaves ; and the dark and ferocious divinities of Africa and America have stamped their own images on their miserable worshippers. The link which binds man to another world, is the chain of his destiny in this. The civilization and humanity which have followed in the path of Christianity, and have walked in that alone, are the bright evidences of its divine original; but even in the luminous domain of Christianity, thcr^ are degrees of light and shadow, and a comparative obscurity RELIGION. 89 falls upon some places. We find the moral and intellectual complexion of every Christian people taking its tinge from the degree of shade or sun- shine in which they dwell. Our opinions of Deity and futurity enter into the composition of our thoughts upon all sub- jects, and give to the mind its prevailing tone and character ; whatsoever be the matter of con- sideration, it presents itself to our cognizance clothed with certain moralities, and bearing the impression of duty and obligation : in this con- nexion we are forced to consider it. All the employments and relations of our moral and social existence, however large the circumfer- ence they describe, point steadily to the wide prospect which lies beyond the grave. Every thing in nature calls us to this view, so interesting, so appalling. The short measure of human life, its quick and unceasing progression to a termination, which we can see distinctly, and which is ever near us ; the changefulness of all around us ; the shadowy nature of all human affairs, passing away in the very act and instant of their being ; all remind us that we ourselves are but as a passing shadow, and that the realities of existence have no enduring place upon this rolling globe of living and lifeless dust. 90 RELIGION. l^he idea of Deity is for ever present with the mass of mankind ; it is the most intimate and constant of human associations ; if that idea pre- sent to the mind the image of a cruel, capricious, and voluptuous tyrant, what will be the result ? Who can withstand the example of him who is lifted up above us, and adds to the dignity of his position, and the authority of a father, su- preme and irresistible power ? Hence the cruel, abominable, and impure character of the Pagan nations of antiquity, and of our own times ; it may be said that some of the former were emi- nent for arts, for letters, and for arms ; and with what more has a statesman to concern himself? We are ready to admit every thing which can be urged in favour of the ingenious barbarians of Greece and Rome ; but their vices stood not in the way of this species of excellence. The most profligate of mankind may excel in painting and sculpture, skill in arms, and literary taste ; if such things could have saved Rome from the hands of the northern spoilers, and Athens from the grasp of the tyrant, these cities would not have fallen. We are willing to give the utmost value, which the most devoted admirers of ge- nius can contend for, to whatever embellishes and adorns society, and adds to the pure enjoy- ments of mankind ; but we conceive that it is the IIELIGION. ' 91 great business of the statesman to render nations good, happy, and secure. Other and abler pens have shown the deplor- able condition of the nations of antiquity, in the midst of the splendour that surrounded them ; other hands have drawn aside the glittering veil which the genius of their great men flung over the hideous features of their social state ; we have seen the boasted wisdom of their laws leading to frightful oppressions ; their private lives hardly to be looked into ; the inhumanity of their wars ; their religious worship absurd and obscene ; their priests and philosopliers steeped in horrid impurities ; and w^as not the natural reason of man as vigorous and as profound in those days as at present ? Was not his heart as naturally tender, and his compassion as sponta- neous and free ? The vice and misery that covered the earth, arose from false ideas of the Creator and of fu- turity ; these, acting upon the characters of in- dividuals and nations, produced the wide demo- ralization of the universe, as deep and profound in the half-civilized and philosophic states of Greece and Rome, as amongst the unlettered barbarians of other portions of the globe. The philosophers and great men of those nations sat 9^ RELIGION. on high in the star-light of their own speculations, while the same darkness covered the mass of the people around them, as was spread over the rest of the universe ; it was reserved for Christianity to break through this darkness ; it is the only religion that was in the first place preached to the poor. If pictures, statues, conquest, poetry, or phi- losophical speculation, were the objects of a statesman's ambition in our days, he might, per- haps, well afford to look down with contempt and disregard upon every form of popular belief or superstition, and while the great mass of the people lay immersed in ignorance, wretchedness, and vice, he might obtain a high degree of suc- cess and renown in those admired pursuits of genius and ambition. But, happily, the statesman of our time has a wider field to cultivate ; it is not his to unfurl the gaudy standard of fame, and set up his country as a beacon amongst the nations to be gazed and wondered at and abhorred : it is his more glorious task, to bring peace and safety and abundance to the cottages of the poor, and hap- piness to all the people. When he has done this, he may leave genius free and unfettered to her own rich resources j she will not fail to adorn RELIGION. 93 the land where freedom dwells, and humanity is cultivated, with her most sumptuous garniture. With such objects as a statesman of our day has before him, he must turn his attention to enquire by wiiat process the character of the mass of the population was depraved in past times ; and by wiiat means that character may be purified and improved. If he shall find that the errors of the popular belief, the monstrous ima- ginations of futurity and deity, were at the root of all the abominations of Paganism, he will have made some progress in the path of his enquiry. li\ as he proceeds a little further, he shall dis- cover that the corruptions of Christianity in the middle ages, gave rise to the moral pestilence which, at that period, blackened and deformed the fairest portion of the globe, he will be led to ap- preciate religious truth amongst the number of those means which may be applied to render nations powerful and happy. It has never been denied that Christianity raised and reclaimed the moral character of its votaries, at its first promulgation ; and it would probably have gone on to build up again the ruined and prostrate empire of the Romans, if Constantine had not interfered by the most un- happy measures to prevent such an accomplish- 94 RELIGION. ment. He deserted the ancient city and thus sealed its fate; and he corrupted Christianity by placing it upon the throne, and shut out all hope and aid from this quarter. From this period, to the reformation, the moral and political history of the world affords little to delight, but much to instruct us. The influence of religion was not wholly lost ; corrupted, how- ever, as it was, by its connexion with power, and disfigured by forms and superstitions, it had lost much of its proper effect upon the people. From what we know of the state of society in the mid- dle ages, we know also what was the Christianity of that period. The age of the reformation was an age of light and enquiry, as well to those who remained in the church of Rome as to those who left it. The convulsions of that period, calamitous as they were, and attended with evils which have flowed down almost to our day, yet led to the establish- ment of a principle which has fixed for ever the destinies of mankind — The right of private opinion. It is from the time of the establishment of this right, that we are to date the commencement of RELIGION. 95 an improved state of society in the world. This principle let loose religion from the chains which bound her for so many ages. Perhaps she is not yet wholly free ; but she enjoys much liberty, and we have all around us the effects of her moral and purifying influence ; and in the power, wealth, and happiness of tlie European nations, we see the fruits of her labours, most abundant in those nations in which she has enjoyed most freedom. In individuals, character is wealth, in nations, virtue is power. Moral principle is the only se- cure basis of national prosperity ; it is the great spring of industry ; it is the fountain of riches. Moral principle can only be formed under the influence of correct notions of deity and futurity; high and solemn sanctions are necessary to it. No deductions of expediency or refined self-in- terest will be sufficient to create such a principle in the minds of the mass of mankind ; nor will the mingled matter of a corrupt Christianity suffice for this purpose. Moral principle, which will endure, must be built upon the truth. If it be asked what means are to be taken, in order that religious truth may prevail? We answer. That in this matter we would apply the principle of the political economist ; we would 96 RELIGION. leave truth to make its own way ; we would con- fine our efforts to removing all impediments and obstructions in its course ; we would give it no bounty ; but we would take away all bounty from error and from idleness ; and we would commit it without fear to a free and unembar- rassed competition. Religion, like the other interests of mankind, has suffered exceedingly by the multiplicity of interferences. The tendency of these has been, by direct or indirect means, to promote the cause of error, and to injure society in its most material concerns. Perhaps no species of hu- man industry ought to be promoted by bounty ; still less should any opinions be upheld by such unwise and injurious encouragement. We may be confident that the truth will be able to sustain itself; and if it be not the truth, why should any opinion be sustained ? But if truth need no legislative support, it may be asked, does error require no legislative discouragement? We think not; it will perish if we do not touch it ; but if we cut it down with the scythe of the law, it will shoot more vigorously from the roots ; and the law has no plough-share wherewith to plough the mind of man, and bring up the roots of error. Nothing RELIGION, 97 can be more plain than the folly of legislating with respect to opinion. Legislation ought to limit itself to the actions of men ; it travels out of its proper sphere when it undertakes to deal with their opinions : this is apparent by the miserable failure of all such attempts. Whatever is most beautiful or productive for the ornament or support of life, lies open and exposed to the unhappy med- dling of ignorant or interested politicians ; but opinions, true or false, escape from the grasp of the oppressor, and laugh at the foolishness of persecution. The British government in Ireland destroyed the woollen manufacture of that coim- try, to appease the jealousies of English trade ; but its utmost efforts failed against the religion of Rome : the rage of an excessive and inhuman frenzy, served but to attach the people more strongly to the faith of their fathers. It is consoling to think, how few and simple are the principles which need be applied in the management of human affairs. The task of go- vernment, once thought so complex and incom- prehensible, seems to resolve itself into the mere duty of keeping peace amongst the various in- terests and the conflicting opinions of mankind : but simple and obvious as this may seem, and as VOL. I. H 98 RELIGION. it really is, yet is it the result of much investiga- tion ; neither can it be comprehended, even in our day, by a large class of politicians. The vulgar of this class are still employed, as they have ever been, in adding to the terrific heap of legislative provisions ; and, instead of doing away with former accumulations, by a gradual and cautious process, we find them still thick in the bustle of new and unintelligible regulations. New churches are to be built against the will and the wants of the parishioners ; and it is well if we escape being regimented, and formed into hollow squares and parallelograms, upon a new system of educational, manufacturing, agricul- tural, and moral tactique. Now, to all this we should merely say, that it is unnecessary : no- thing more need be done than to take away all bounty from bad systems, and to remove every impediment in the way of improvements. It is impossible to value religion more highly than we do : religion and education are above all other things, in our estimation, as they are the sources of all that is valuable in life. To promote them, we would use all persuasion ; we would remove every obstacle ; we would supply funds from the public purse, if needful, with but ,one condition, that no tyranny be exercised over the people by the agents of the public 18 RELIGION. 99 bounty. It should not be the object to uphold the sect, but the principle. With this view we would promote the circulation of the Scriptures, because in these there is nothing of the sect, but all of the principle : we would not force the Scrip- tures on the people, but we would not suffer them to be forcibly withheld; all should be free. Christianity is the only civilization of the po- pulace ; and it is possible to be instructed in the dogmas of the Church of England, or the Church of Rome, or any other church, and know no- thing of Christianity ; we would therefore pro- mote that which will insure a knowledge of religion, without reference to the dogmas of any church. All attempts to push the cause of any parti- cular system of rehgion, must be injurious to that which is invaluable — religious principle. The general principle is forgotten in the strug- gle about the dogmas of the sect ; hence the irreligious contests for religion. It has been said, that the parties in these fierce and uncharitable contests, have frequently been unbelievers, or indifferent about the things which afforded pre- text for the struggle ; and this, no doubt, is true of many ; but the majority were faithful believ- H 2 100 RELIGION. ers and zealous partizans : the influence of the sect overcame the influence of the principle ; under the former, men became savages, and ex- ceedingly wicked ; the latter would have softened and civilized them. The zeal of the sectarian is associated with the ideas of men fallible, passionate, and evil like himself, and with creeds of human devise, and ordinances of human contrivance ; his mind is carried away from the calm, soothing, and sub- lime contemplation of Deity, as revealed in the Gospel, to be mingled, and deformed, and de- based, among human passions and human in- ventions. It may be said, that he believes these to be of divine institution ; he may, but not im- mediately, and they will fail to tell upon his consci- ence with power ; and, though he had the fullest convictions upon this head, the effect upon his character would be injurious. The heathen bows to the image he has made, and believes firmly in the divinity of his idol ; but it is this belief which has darkened and degraded his character ; he is reduced to the level of the stone, or the reptile he worships; this appears to be the moral law of the species ; and when Christians set up their own imagin- ations to be worshipped, or to be associated in the RELIGION. 101 worship of tlie Supreme Being, the darkness and the degradation wliich follows, is too marked that we should mistake it. The history of Christian contests, and the pro- fligacy, rapacity, and abuses of churches, is a fearful evidence in support of our position. If you set up the dogma to be worshipped, the prin- ciple will be forgotten, for we cannot combine things, in their nature not capable of combin- ation ; the dogma will eat up the principle j the latter only, can civilize tlie populace ; those who are in easy circumstances, may be kept in their path by a power of less force ; but the mass of the people are never in easy circumstances ; with them life is a struggle, a long continued struggle, in the path of which, every temptation is strewed, and every passion is roused from its lair to add to the violence of the conflict. The poor man finds nothing in the dogma of his sect to direct or restrain him, and to the dog- ma and the form only, he attaches himself; you will try in vain to bring him back to the principle after you have set up the dogma 5 he will not leave it, neither will he be convinced by your discourses upon expediency and moral obligation. The hungry man, and he who works hard and H 3 102 RELIGION. earns rags and wretchedness, would stare at the folly of the argument, which tells him to be con- tent, because there must be poor and miserable persons, and some must labour severely, and reap want and sorrow. The truth is, that the poor themselves reason much more accurately upon their own condition than the philosophers; they know that some in the world must be poor, and perhaps in want, but they would rather throw the burden of want and poverty upon other shoulders than keep it on their own, and they think the chance of such a riddance well worth any risk attending the attempt. The poor, who labour hard, and are badly fed and clothed, and housed, are little deterred by the risk of life ; with them, life has little value ; they are restrained, rather by the little chance of success : shew them that they can succeed, or let any change take place which will open such a prospect to them, and observe how they will act ; say that they perish — what then ? Is it so great an evil ? How many perish in the army and navy of all nations, as it were, without a motive ? It is evident, that with the populace, force alone, or religious principle, can sustain society, except in periods of much national prosperity. RELIGION. 103 when all is smooth upon the surface of this deep ocean ; tranquillity, at such a time, may be pre- served at less cost. You may increase the pressure of misery, you may succeed in laying burden upon burden on the shoulders of the poor, and from the force of habit, they may continue, also, to endure them patiently for a period, but not always ; after a season, you will overcome the despair of success, and remove the apprehension of danger, and then you will have insurrection or rebellion. We do not say that religious principle will en- able the people to bear all things, or that even this may not sometimes give way under the weight of suffering ; but it will do much ; it will do more than any thing else can do ; and it is chiefly valuable for this reason, that it will not fail, where it prevails, to improve the condition of the people. Religious principle will surely create those habits of industry and sobriety, which are the bases of private and of national prosperity. Our attention has been called to the subject of religion, because it appears to us to have more influence upon society, and to mingle itself more with the interests and the moral constitution of mankind, than has generally been thought or H 4 104 RELIGION. allowed ; he who writes upon Irish affairs espe- cially, cannot neglect it. Religion was to Ire- land, in her early days, her chief honour and brightest glory ; in her latter years, her reproach and shame. Hailed by the nations, in the dawn of Christianity, as the '* Island of Saints, *' she has become in this age, for her religious feuds, the barbarity of her laws affecting religion, and the unhappy singularity of her situation touching this great point, — an object of scorn and abhor- rence to all mankind. Yet her zeal and faithful- ness deserved a better fate, and ought not to have exposed her to the calamity and reproach which have been her lot. 105 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. — TITHE, No church in the world is so singularly placed as the Protestant Established Church of Ireland. A priesthood, but in many parts of the country no hearers. Churches built or building in nume- rous places, in which there is to be, perhaps, sometimes service, but never congregations ; and where it has happened that a military force has been occasionally necessary to protect tlie build- ers from the assaults of the flock. Meek flock ! Happy shepherds ! There are two circumstances connected with this subject, which here call our attention. It is astonishing that the established church has made so little progress with the people j considering, too, that hardly any modern church can boast a greater number of able and pious men. It is surprising, also, that this church has paid so little attention to this important subject. The clergy seem generally to have preferred slumbering 106 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. quietly upon their livings to any exertion of this nature. Perhaps they despaired ; but if they did so, they must have doubted that the truth was with them ; or, what was more unpardonable, they must have doubted the power of the truth — or, without doubting either, they must have regarded the thing as not desirable. We know, it has been said, that if the peo- ple were converted to Protestantism, there were danger that they would join the ranks of the dissenters, rather than embrace the open arms of the establishment; and in this case, it is concluded, they are safer where they are. This, however, is a humiliating view of the pre- dicament in which the establishment is placed, and we think too highly of its members to be content with it. Yet it is certain that the church as a body, has not only done very little upon the ground of this first of her duties, but has resisted those measures which appeared neces- sary in order to open the way for her exer- tions. It is known that the Church of Rome in Ire- land is powerfully sustained by legislative dis- couragements. Without giving any opinion here of the truth or purity of the doctrines of that church, we are safe in saying, that these dis- ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 107 couragements are a strong support. So, the first churches of Christianity, whose doctrine was without blemish, and whose excellence was yet untarnished in the world, derived not a little aid from the cruel persecutions of the heathen. The first effort, therefore, of the Protestant establishment ought to be, to take away this support from their adversary, and this bar to their more successful and extensive ministration. This church should open for itself the field which is now closed against it, by acts of Ca- tholic disqualification. But when we see this clergy opposing every attempt which is made to remove these disqua- lifications, and coming forward in all their dig- nities and ranks, and with the whole weight of their influence and power, to resist every effort made to give them free access to the people, and to remove those obstructions of prejudice and disgust, which have been heaped up against them ; what can we think of their confidence in the truth of their doctrine, or their zeal in the sacred cause to which they stand pledged by sanctions sufficient to shake the nerves of the best and boldest of human kind ? Those disqualifications because of religion, which deprive a large portion of the people of 108 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. Ireland of valuable civil immunities, have ne- cessarily accumulated upon the establishment a great mass of odium and reproach. This church has been too much known to the people as a heavy and oppressive burden ; a cause of disunion and discord, and of civil exclusion and grievous in- jury and injustice in the land. Those of the clergy who are sincerely devoted to their duties, struggle in vain against the obstacles which are thus opposed to them ; and yet it is abundantly evident, that not all the piety, nor all the learn- ing, which is to be found in the bosom of the establishment, will give it strength or security, unless it clothe itself with the affections and opinions of the people. Nothing can be en- during in this age, which is not supported by public opinion ; still less can that continue to exist which shocks and wounds it. The esta- blished church of Ireland must clothe its bare bones with the flesh of the people ; or though it wore the crown of England upon its head, and wielded the sword of the Russian Autocrat, the day is at hand when rottenness and dissolution will claim it as their own, and lay it, without a struggle, in the grave. This church must remove from itself the double reproach of lending its weight to the ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 109 civil exclusion of the people upon the one hand; and upon the other, grasping, as the people think and believe, their substance and the fruits of their labour, without equivalent or requital. This is too much ; we know that the case can be argued with much ingenuity, and their right to tithe, and to political opinion of whatever kind, maintained with great plausibi- lity. But after all the argument, we know how the thing is felt. The specious reasoning passes away, while the facts remain, and come home with all their strength and power to the feelings and the pockets of the people. Is there any body of men of whom so im- mense a majority have so steadily and persever- ingly opposed the removal of civil disqualifica- tions, on account of religion, as the clergy of the established church. Look at the divisions in the House of Lords ? Compare the propor- tions on each side, amongst ministers and their adherents, and the Opposition and their friends, with the proportions amongst the Bishops. If the whole body of Irish Bishops were in the House, would the proportions be different ? We fear not. The establishment, unhappily, incurs much odium, and casts away, too lightly, the sympa- 110 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. thies of the people, or assists to bind these pre- cious sympathies round the brows of their bre- thren of the Roman faith. Dearer and more glorious than all the wealth of the establishment are the hearts, and the unpurchasable affections of the people. For these, what would not the devoted Apostle of the Gentiles give? — or the beloved Disciple ? He whose bosom glowed with unconquerable zeal — he whose soul was love. But we are fallen upon other times, and have to deal with apostles and disciples of a differ- ent class and character. The repeal of the remnant of the penal code, will be necessary to open the door to the exer- tions of the established church in Ireland. It will be asked, would we also, in order that she may labour more effectually with the people, re- quire her to forego the tithe ? We answer, that the church must submit, at least, to a commuta- tion. * This is necessary. But we have heard of more than one clergyman of the establishment * It has been said that a commutation would be more burdensome than the tithe, because it should be an equiva- lent not for what the Clergy receive, but for what they ought to receive. We cannot imagine why a commutation should be any more than a full equivalent for tithe, as it has been usually paid and received in the country. The custom of the country is the law of tithe. ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. Ill in England giving up his tithe, to secure the hearts of his parishioners, and throwing himself upon their voluntary bounty, lest the shadow of a mercenary motive should darken his minis- try, or the reproach of a hireling should be cast upon his labours of love. And we know that there are men in Ireland capable of this sacrifice. But we must say, that tithe ought not to be taken, without a strenuous effort to make some return to the people. A thousand ways lie open by which they may be served. But, surely, it is not requiring too much, that this clergy, who reap so largely of the labour and the substance of the people, should abstain from opposing or injuring them, when they look for restitution of civil rio'lits. ^&' We know, that the clergy do not admit that they take the substance of the people ; they take, it is contended, nothing that is not their own. This brings us to say a few words upon the subject of tithe ; a subject which has been too much and too w^ell debated to require any more than a very rapid notice from us. The claim to tithe is mentioned, either as a religious obligation or as a legal right. 112 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. That the clergy are entitled to a sufficient support cannot be questioned. They have a just claim, like all other men, to live by their labours. This, therefore, is not the matter to be considered, for the clergy of the Catholic church in Ireland live, and are provided for, without a legal establishment ; so also do the clergy of the Protestant dissenting churches. We are rather to enquire, what right any clergy, of any church, can have to tithe under the Christian dispensation. Tithe was a Jewish ordinance, and was ex- pressly given to the tribe of Levi^ as compensa- tion for their tentli portion of the land, which they gave up and threw into the common stock of the country, in order that they might devote themselves more entirely to the service of the temple. This tribe were, therefore, purchasers for full consideration of their tithe. The tithe, in their case, was not merely a remuneration for ecclesiastical services; they had a right to it independently of any service of this nature, upon the ground of their having given to their nation a full equivalent and satisfaction in land. We must, therefore, consider this tribe as having a claim to tithe upon quite another ground than any which can be mentioned in our day, by any Christian clergy in Europe. ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 113 We know of no clergy which have given to their nation an equivalent of this sort ; nor have we heard of any individual churchman, how- ever large his revenue from tithe, making a cession of his private property in favour of the public. Though many, holding rich livings, are also in possession of great private fortunes. The church of Ireland, on the contrary, holds not only the tithe, but immense estates in land also ; to the amount, it is said, of several hun- dreds of thousands annually. The tribe of Levi were not properly the priesthood, these were the descendants of Aaron exclusively ; and these re- ceived not tithes in remuneration for their bur- densome services at the temple, but hundredths ; that is, tenths of the tithe. All this is well known to those who have paid any attention to this subject ; and we have but adverted to it as it lay in our way. The clergy, or their advocates, do not rest their claims in our day upon any Jewish ana- logies ; but upon that which is a more solid foundation, — the law of the land. Upon this ground, their title is unquestionable. But the law touching this subject has been frequently debated, has been sometimes changed, and may again be altered. It is the fashion, however, to VOL. L I 114 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. meet every proposition of this sort with loose and sounding declamations about the ** sacred rights of property.*' Landholders have been warned to look to themselves ; and the right of the church to its possessions has been exalted far above that of landlords to their estates. The country gentlemen, who are to be scared away from meddling with church income, are told of the longer possession and of the fairer title by which this is held. In reply to all this, we shall only ask. How did the church acquire this property in Ire- land ? Were not these lands partly the estates of the old Irish gentry, and partly the property of the Catholic church, derived by a pure title from grants of the ancient lords and princes of the country, and appropriated, we will not say how, to the use of this church, which has such a " sacred right of property." Now, if the prince or the parliament could strip one church of its property, which came honestly by it, and confer it upon another, may not the same power interfere for the public good, to modify the tenure of its grantee ? Where was this sacred right of property, when the Romish clergy were expelled from their parishes, and the bishops driven from their lands, while the people clung round about them and re- fused to quit the pastors of their choice? SI ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 115 We are unwilling to remember these things, but when such lofty claims are made, we must refer to the truth of history. It will be said, that if an imputation can be cast for such reasons as these upon the possessions of the church, they might be found also, in many instances, to shake the title of those land-owners, whose ancestors acquired property in the civil wars. We answer, that these things do not furnish any ground for imputation upon the title of the church to its possessions, or the land-owner to his estate. It would be woeful indeed, if these accounts of for- gotten calamities and enormities were never to be closed; and we were perpetually to be driven back into the crimes and recriminations of past ages. But there is still some difference between the case of the land-owner and the case of the church. The former acquires the absolute property ; it is his sole right and inheritance ; it will descend to his heir ; he can sell and convey a title as absolute as he possesses. Time, according to the usages of all nations, removes all taint from his title, and makes that perfect, which in its creation might have been incomplete. In the church there is no inheritance. The clergy, for the time being, have rights annexed to their possession which are unquestionable, their right of property for their lives is undoubted j 1 2 116 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE, but they have no more than a life e&tate ; the fee, if we may so speak, is in the pubHc, and though it would be highly unjust to touch the life estate which has been carved out for the benefit of the present possessors, it is no way improper at any time for the owner to make a new settlement out of the fee* Suppose a law were made, that after the de- mise of all the present holders of livings and benefices, and of all persons at present in orders, there should no longer be any tithe taken in Ire- land, and that all church lands should be applied to the public service. Who would be injured ? Who would have a right to say, my property is taken from me ? The ultimate right to all cburch property and tithe appears to us to be in the public. The clergy take the profits for their lives, in remune- ration for certain services supposed to be per- formed. But it is said, if the right of property be in the public, what reason is there that the land-owners and their tenants cry out so vehe- mently against the payments they are compelled to make? They do so for the same reason that they cry out against the property-tax, the win- dow-tax, the salt-tax, or any other. These taxes were the property of the public^ and ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 117 applied to the public service. The people paid them, but when they became burthensome and inexpedient, the people got rid of some of them also. Tithe is a tax, ancient no doubt, but we know its commencement; its antiquity, in our opinion, is nothing in its favour, and the mode in which it was first introduced, is far from giving it authority or credit. Neither is tithe, now, what it was when first introduced and for ages after. Those who rely upon its antiquity are bound to its original shape and form. Originally, tithe was taken from the congre- gation only ; there was no such thing, as in our time in Ireland, of millions of people paying- tithes to a clergy they disowned. Tithe, also, though paid to pastors acknowledged and revered, was not paid, as in our enlightened days, for the sole use and private emolument of cliurch- men ; rectors received for their support but one fourth part of the tithe, the bishop was entitled to another fourth, and the remaining two parts were applied to building and repairing churches, and maintaining the poor. The public of this generous age give the whole tithe to the clergy, and take upon them- selves, also to build and repair their churches, and to feed their poor ; and yet that age, and that I S 118 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. church in which tithe was first introduced, is called superstitious, and their devotion to the clergy is held up to scorn and derision as exces- sive and absurd ! This tax was imposed originally as a mainten- ance for the poor, as a fund for building and re- pairing churches, and as a remuneration for cer- tain services to be performed ; such as public worship and religious instruction. Now, have not the people of Ireland a right to demand the repeal of this tax, when it is notorious that not one of these objects are attended to or attained ? Where is for them the religious instruction or the public worship ? It has been said, sometimes, that the church is open and the sermon is preached ; but this observation is too contempt- ible to deserve an answer. The enormity of compelling those to pay who disown the pastor and reject his services, is, we believe, peculiar to the Christian churches, or some of them. The Jewish priesthood did not take tithes or offerings from any people not of their religion, and worshippers in their temple ; they took nothing towards their support from the heathen, nor even from the Samaritan, either by force or under colour of law; they would have considered any thing of this nature as an ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 119 abomination, and as profaning the service of the Most High. It was reserved for Christian churches to be fed by violence, and for Christian pastors to strip the fleece from a flock not their own. Even the heathen was not guilty of this mon- strous injustice. The priest of Jupiter, trium- phant in the Roman capitol, levied no contribu- tions for his support, or the maintenance of his dignity, upon the subject worshippers of the German or Egyptian divinities ; he derived his revenue solely from the devotees of his own su- perstition. We consider tithe, as it exists in our times, to be an unreasonable burden, even when taken from the members of the establishment ; but when forcibly taken, under colour of law, from those who conscientiously dissent from that church, we must consider it as a great injustice, and a most crying grievance ; one unheard ofi and unknown in the darkest ages of the world, a thing that would have been abhorred by the Jews, and that would not have been tolerated even by the heathen ; and we boast that these are times of political wisdom, of enlightened justice, and of pure Christianity. We shall advert shortly to some of the de- fences made for taking tithes from Roman I 4 120 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. Catholics, and from Protestant Dissenters. It is said, that nothing is taken from the farmer ; he took the land with a full knowledge of this bur- den, and his rent is measured with a full allow- ance for it. True ; but is the tenth of the produce of his labour and industry nothing ? — his expenditure, his improvements, are these nothing ? But suppose they are nothing, you only remove the argument to the landlord ; and here we are told, that the land-owner purchased his estate with a knowledge of this burden also, and therefore with an allowance for it, in the consideration which he gave. But there are, even in Ireland, land-owners who derive their inheritances from a period more remote than that of the introduction of tithes in the island ; these, nevertheless, are not exempt. In our apprehension, it matters not in what way land may have been acquired, or what may have been paid for the purchase ; the owner of the fee is the representative of all the rights of the most ancient acquirers of the soil. His title over the land is paramount to that of priests, or parlia- ments. The old legal notion of the king's title to the soil was imagined in barbarous times, and, considering the king as a trustee for the benefit of the nation, might have its advantages ; but when he parts with those riglits by grant, or other- ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 121 wise, he gives a title as valid as he possessed. Nei- tlier has parliament any title, nor does it pretend to have any, to the inheritances of the people. This high court may burden the ground with heavy impositions, but it lays no claim to the soil, nor interferes with the rights of the owner. We have said that tithe is in the nature of a parliamentary tax for the maintenance of the church ; the clergy can plead the law of the land in support of their demand, and their right upon this foundation is undoubted. The law must and ought to be obeyed, as long as it remains the law ; but we may question its policy or expe- diency. Tithe is in the nature of a rent-charge imposed by parliament. If the tax be repealed, or if the rent-charge cease by any means, the land-owner enters at once into the enjoyment of this benefit, though he might have acquired his estate by purchase, when this tax was deemed to be perpetual, or while it was supposed the rent-charge could never terminate. The church cannot mention a claim paramount to the landlord's title, nor take away from him the advantages that are inherent in his possession. Why has not this defence been set up for other taxes ? Why has the window-tax been repealed, while so many houses were built and purchased, and leases taken during its existence ? Why 12^ ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. have those who struggle for the continuance of taxes not thought of this argument? How many purchases have been made since the land- tax was imposed in England? Who then can complain of the land-tax, when they purchased with a knowledge of, and an allowance for, this imposition ? We would recommend this sensible argument as a conclusive plea for the perpetuity of taxes ; let a tax be imposed, let land be taken or purchased, or contracts be made during the continuance of the tax, and when you come to ask for its repeal, it can be answered, — Did you not make your bargain while the tax existed ? what right have you to complain of it ? Let the tax be eternal, for this argument remains for ever, and gathers strength with time. Under the law as it stands, the clergy have a legal title to their tithes: but have they an equitable right ? A just man will hesitate to take the property of another, unless that other will consent to take value in return. The Protestant Dissenter, or the Roman Catholic may justly ask, why, in this age of the world, he is compelled to share his property with him from whom he cannot receive any thing in return? The poor can under- stand why they pay rents, they can imagine a rea- son for paying taxes to the state j but tithe appears to them a naked and arbitrary oppression, for the ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 123 profit and pleasure of a set of men, with whom they have no connexion. Arguments about the sacred right of property may have weight in parhament, but they will have none with the peasantry. * Tithe is a tax of the very worst kind and charac- ter; in its nature it is more vexatious and oppres- sive than any other tax whatever ; it is unfixed, and requires to be ascertained anew every year ; it is a tax levied for the profit of private persons, and the tax-gatherers are the owners of the tax ; it is impossible to imagine a more grinding and objectionable machinery. The clergy are some- times looked upon as in the nature of state pensioners, turned over by the government to collect their pensions themselves from the people. If government must have a favourite priesthood, it were well that it should, itself, collect the tax, and pay with its own hand its own-favoured de- pendants. No pensioner ought to be permitted to levy his own pension on the public ; in a well- regulated commonwealth, the state should be the only collector of taxes; the powers of government should be instrusted to no private hands for pri- vate purposes. * Captain Rock, in his proclamation, denounced tithe al- together, but he demanded only a reduction of rents. All the captains of this numerous family have acted in the same spirit. 154- ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. Any burden upon the land not created by the owner or his ancestor, but imposed by authority of law, and which leaves the right to the soil and the possession untouched, can be no other than a tax, for whose benefit soever such a tax may be created ; but it is said, how will this affect the lay impropriator ? We answer, he may have a property in the tax, but it is still a tax. Was it never heard, that private persons have had property in taxes? Had not the Ormond family until very lately, a property in the prisage of wines in Ireland ? and was not this a tax ? Government purchased the prisage of wines from the Ormond family, for the benefit of the public, and the same course ought to be taken with regard to lay proprietors of tithes. It is not necessary to purchase from the clergy, be- cause these have never more than a life-interest, which may be suffered to run out. Views of this kind have been treated as revo- lutionary, and something like a threat has been held out towards those who should dare to enter- tain or avow them. As to the imputation of re- volutionary views, we ask. Was not the Reform- ation a great revolution j and yet upon this oc- casion the property and ownership in tithe was ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 1^5 completely changed ? Have not the legislature and people of England been ever proud of their *' glorious Revolution ?" We would treat argu- ment upon this or any other subject with proper respect ; but mere hard words deserve little re- gard. So far do we deem these considerations from being revolutionary, that we are persuaded such views must be speedily entertained and acted upon, if government or parliament would pre- vent a series of disastrous occurrences in Ireland, which, we will not say must lead to revolution, but will be of that character which usually pre- cede those fatal events. As to the danger with which private property is said to be threatened, we ask, Is not private property safe in France ; and yet tithe has been abolished in that country ? If indeed no redress could be obtained for the grievance of tithe, unless the people were to redress themselves, private property might be in danger, as in France dur- ing the progress of the revolution. But that country was not blessed with a government capa- ble of keeping pace with the progress of the times; and wise enough to adopt those measiues, and effect those changes, which the course of 126 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. events, and the improved state of the pubUc mind, called for and made indispensable. Changes must come when the times are ripe for them : we have lately seen some of the utmost importance quietly effected in par- liament — changes at which our ancestors would have been greatly startled. The folly of those who would not meet this necessity for change, by any adequate measures, and the wicked- ness of those who would run before the times and overturn every thing, are pretty nearly equal. It is said that the church is not oppressive in the collection of its tithe. We are aware that there are many who exact less than the law would permit them. We have always said, that there are as good men in the church as there are in the world ; but we know there are some also who obtain more than the law permits. There are some who exact the uttermost from those of the Roman communion in their parishes, but deal very leniently with their Protestant parishioners ; with the latter, as they compose their congrega- tion, and come in contact with them in various ways, it is necessary to observe the forms of decency and moderation. ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 127 In poor parishes, the people are frequently m debt to the rector or proctor, and are unable to discharge their arrears ; they are not therefore at liberty to dispute the price he puts upon the tithe ; if they do, they will probably be called upon to pay up their arrears. Under these cir- cumstances, they are compelled to submit to whatever price is imposed, and it often exceeds the fair value of the tenth. Let it be considered too, that the rector may be the most important gentleman in the parish, perhaps a magistrate, whose displeasure is not to be incurred by a small exaction upon his tithe, and whose favour is worth purchasing at some expense. We conceive the bearing of the laws respect- ing tithe to be as unkind towards the church as oppressive towards the people. If there must be a sort of state monopoly of religion, the odium of collecting the tax by which this is to be main- tained, ought not to have been thrown upon the clergy ; and still less when it is considered that this odium went, in substance, to defeat the monopoly. We have heard state monopo- lies of religion in some countries compared to the Spanish King's monopoly of snuff. We think, however, there are some essential points of difference. 1^8 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. The King of Spain was the sole dealer in the article. He permitted no otlier person to sell snufFby wholesale in his dominions, and of him only were you permitted to buy ; but then, if you did not like the article or had no taste for it, the King was too just to compel you to purchase ; you were permitted to abstain altogether from this luxury ; and the King, though he might re- gret your w^ant of taste for the commodity, never thought of charging you for what you did not use. So much equity is not observed in the case of state monopolies of religion; an extensive con- traband trade is allowed ; the dealers in this trade are permitted to sell their preparations where they can. They are at liberty to make a better article, if they know how, and, in fact, if they have skill and industry enough to supply the mar- ket fully. After this comes the patentee of the state commodity ; and without troubling himself whether you use his wares, or whether you hold them in abhorrence, or whether you are already supplied by some one more expert or intelligent in the trade — about all this he cares nothing ; for the law having foreseen that you would un- doubtedly want a certain supply of the article, requires not that you should take it from the person legally appointed, but that, whether you ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 1^9 do or not, you shall pay him the full price of the commodity. Now this appears extremely unjust ; for, pos» sibly, the man may have paid a high price al- ready to his own merchant for that sort of ma- nufacture which suited his taste and constitution ; nevertheless, the patentee of the authorised pre- paration sends in his bill as for goods sold and delivered, and you are not permitted to dispute the demand in a court of justice. If you plead that you have received no value for the money demanded, and if you prove the allegation, the court will nevertheless award judgment against you ; it will be admitted that the charge in the claimant's bill is not true ; it will be granted, that, in point of fact, you received no value ; it will even be conceded, that you are so cir- cumstanced that you could not make use of the authorised article ; and that it would be an in- tolerable tyranny to compel you to use it ; and after all these admissions, you will be coldly commanded to pay the bill, or tliat execution shall issue against your goods and effects. This is the law in some countries ! They manage snufF and religion better in Spain. It will strike any one that the state preparation must soon come to be very carelessly and clum- VOL. I. K 130 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. sily made up. Those who are sure to be paid, let the commodity be what it may, will not give much attention to make it fit for use ; those who must be paid their demand, as for a full supply of the very best article, though they may furnish a very inferior kind, or though they may furnish nothing at all, will, in a short time, furnish no- thing, or worse than nothing. The monopoly may grind the poor, but it will also destroy the manufacture ; and, after a while, the monopoly also must decay : nothing that is irrational can exist long in our time. The tendency of the tithe system is to injure the establishment, by bringing into the church persons wholly unfit for the ministry, and whose only objects are the ease, the idleness, and the wealth it affords. All establishments are full of such persons ; and this evil might have been en- dured in past times, when power might have laughed at principle, and set common sense at defiance ; but this can be done no longer ; and it will be well if some remedy can be devised for this inveterate disease, which threatens to devour the church. It is said that it is necessary to induce gentle- men to enter into the ministry, because the church ought to <* raise her head in courts and ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 131 palaces," and the rich should have spiritual com- forters as polite as themselves. What then ? Were the fishers of Galilee sent out to teach the vulgar only, and not all man- kind? There was not one gentleman amongst the twelve apostles : Paul, perhaps, might have claimed that appellation. But certainly his ministry was not very successful with the philo- sophers, and the polite of the world. We doubt very much, whether the rich are best instructed by rich persons like themselves : riches are very apt to spoil the teachers. The Christian doc- trines of humility, and mortification, and self- denial, sound strangely in the mouths of our wealthy and luxurious prelates, whose magnifi- cent fortunes out-top the nobility of the land. There is, in fact, such a wide discrepancy between the doctrines of the gospel, and the out- fit of the higher orders of the church-establish- ment, that it is almost ludicrous; and the rich, who are furnished with such magnificent pastors, cannot avoid seeing the ridicule of the thing. We rather think that the higher orders of society would be better instructed by men of moderate fortunes, and a little removed from their own sphere: such men would be likely K 2 13^ ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. to be better teachers than those who are encom- passed with the snares, and loaded with the w^eight of the world's wealth ; the doctrines of Christianity would sit better upon them; their principles and motives would be less liable to suspicion ; and as to politeness and learning, we think a man of five hundred a-year may be as polite and as learned as one of five thousand, or fifty thousand. There are in society certain circles of associ- ation, formed pretty much upon the scale of pro- perty. Perhaps this is right, or unavoidable ; but the scale of politeness and learning is not graduated in the same manner. To a certain ex- tent, both these measures may agree ; extreme poverty will neither be learned nor polite ; but after we come to a certain point of ease and com- petence, and polished intercourse, the scale of wealth may extend to any excess of power or luxury ; but the scale of politeness and learn- ing goes no further. At this point the numbers show the highest amount that is to be obtained in society. We w^ould give all the good-breeding that is in the church for a little more spiritual-minded- ness ', the wealth of the establishment fills its ranks with polite gentlemen, but invites not the ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 133 humble and devoted servant of the gospel : to the latter, this wealth would be no inducement ; but the crowd of venal expectants, whose only object is a living and preferment, beset the gates of the establishment, and close the way against those whose sole concern is the ministry. If we could consider the establishment as a mere secular machine, useful for certain ordinary purposes, we should be quite ready to admit its value. It supplies the country with a resident gentry, often of great use ; for the most part, more moral than tlie country gentlemen around them : it furnishes a numerous corps of well-informed, and, frequently, well-intentioned magistracy ; and though we think it generally wrong that tlie clergy should be in the commission of the peace, yet, situated as Ireland is, with a vast proportion of her proprietors living out of the country, witli an established clergy, possessing large benefices and small cure of souls, and, from their extraor- dinary situation, almost wholly secularized, we think it is gaming something, ii\ in such a case as this, we obtain a good magistracy ; and we know there are many instances where it would be a serious evil if the country were deprived of the valuable services of these gentlemen a>s magistrates. K 3 134f ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. We are ready to admit the great value of the clergy of the establishment generally, as country gentlemen, magistrates, and individuals: we should be glad if we could bear testimony also to their usefulness as ministers of the gospel. It will be said, what have they to do, but with the members of their own communion? and we would readily admit the reasonableness of this plea, if they limited their demand of tithe to the mem- bers of their communion also ; but, while they claim tithe from all, without distinction, we can- not exonerate them from the obligations which they thus voluntarily incur. We think too, that, whatever may be the ad- vantages to the country of having such a number of magistrates and useful country gentlemen, the tithe system is a highly objectionable means of obtaining them. If they are to be a kind of resident estated gentry, let them have estates in good earnest ; let lands be assigned them ; but if they are to continue to have estates in the labour and industry of the people, we would not give much for their title. Again, if they are to be merely country gentlemen, what is the Protestant population to do for pastors ? The poor of the Protestant persuasion are almost without religion : in the country ESTABLISHED CHURCH. -— TITHE. 185 they speak with more derision and contempt of their own clergy, than the poor of the Catholic persuasion think it decent to do. In the towns they become Roman Catholics or Dissenters. We have one word to say upon the subject of church rates. This is frequently a very severe tax, and it is one levied upon the public of the Roman Catholic communion in a very unjusti- fiable manner. Is a new church to be built, — who is to determine whether the old one is insufficient, or a new one necessary ? Perhaps there are no Protestants in the parish. — Whoso- ever is to determine this point, the Catholics are to pay for building the church, if it be to be built. Funds are easily obtained from the Board of First- Fruits ; but the Board must be repaid : this is done by a tax levied on the parish for, perliaps, twenty years after. This is a heavy tax, without representation, and in which the people have no voice. What becomes in this case of the argument about notice ? Did the farmer know, when he took his farm and calculated his rent, that he should have to pay this extrava- gant tax during, perhaps, the whole of his term ? Is it right, that a whole parish should be taxed to build a church lor, possibly, two oj* three indi- K 4 136 ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHEe viduals ? — that the poor should build places of worship for the rich, in order that these may pray commodiously and at free cost, while the impoverished peasantry worship in buildings re- sembling barns ? Surely the established church of Ireland, the richest church in Europe, might afford to relieve the poor of the Roman Catholic persuasion fi'om this infliction 1 It is not right that Catholics should be compelled to build churches for Protestants. It is not right that those who live upon potatoes and sour milk, should be called on to build elegant churches for those who fare sumptuously and drink wine every day. It is astonishing what fraud and imposition are practised by means of this power, which the few possess, of taxing the many at pleasure. A few Protestants, collected at vestry, have the power of voting the property of the Catholic parishioners to themselves or their friends, in the shape of money for repairs of the church, for music, for sextons, * &c. &c. * We have known 20/. charged for washing a surplice, which was proved to have been washed three times in the year. In the parish where this was an annual item, the whole ordinary charges for the service of the church was nearly 1000/. a year, exclusive of repairs. ESTABLISHED CHURCH. TITHE. 137 It is time to look into these abuses, by which the country has been impoverished, and the people made desperate, and the establishment rendered odious. 138 THE CHURCH OF ROME IN IRELAND. Most writers who profess to treat of the churches of Ireland, or other countries, present us with an account of the number of bishops and bishops' sees, their revenues, the number of parishes, the profits of the parish clergy, and other interesting matter of this nature, with all which we have nothing to do. We have no con- cern with the emoluments or enjoyments of the clergy ; neither are we deeply affected by hard- ships or privations which are voluntarily incur- red. It is our business to consider them in con- nection with the duties they have undertaken to perform. We judge of the shepherd by the con- dition of the flock : — ** By their fruits ye shall know them ;" an infallible rule, and laid down by an infallible authority. Ireland is the only country which presents us with the singular spectacle of two great and per- fect national church ei^tablishments ; an establish- 15 CHURCH OF ROME IN IRELAND. 139 ment tor the rich, and an estabhshment for the poor. There are some poor Protestants and some rich Roman Cathohcs ; this, however, is the leading distinction ; but the poor support both estabHshments. Persecuted with worse than the spirit and more than the zeal, which distinguished the family and followers of Mahomet, in their sanguinary war- fare against Christianity, the church of Rome was borne unhurt through the storm, by the de- voted and unconquerable mind of a people, ac- quainted, indeed, with defeat, but never used to submission. If ever a people had claims upon their pastors, and made their national church their debtor, for services beyond all things pre- cious, — the uncompromising services of the heart and affections ; such claims have this people, and in such relation stands their church to them. This church owes to the people an infinite debt of gratitude. Tlie persecution suffered in common by priest and people, brought them into more intimate connection, and gave to the sacred bond which united them, a more holy and hallowed character. We feel kindness and affec- tion for the companions of our pleasures ; but for the partners of our sorrows and our sufferings we have the warmest love. Nature weaves not 140 CHURCH OF ROME a chain more powerful than this of affliction, to bind together human hearts ; but when he who suffers with us is a father, or clothed with the character of one, and adds to the dear- ness and fondness of that relation, something high and holy in his office ; — the sacred and mysterious claims of his church, nothing abated in his misfortunes, and only deriving strength from that abasement which is submitted to for conscience sake and the love of the poor ; — has he not gathered up the hearts of the people and made them all his own ? These were means more than sufficient for the mightiest achievements of church power ; but these were not all. The civil wars, and the rage for confiscation, had swept away the old heritors of the soil ; few of the ancient families remained, and the new proprietors succeeded to none of that influence or authority with the people, which had been the precious prerogative of their former lords. These waste affections flowed into the bosom of the church, and added to the weight and power of her ordinary authority. The priest- hood, in most parts of Ireland, stood, as it were, the representatives of the ancient families of the country ; they were invested with a new and ex- IN IRELAND. 141 traordinaiy power, which the laws as they have been, and as they still are, tend to confirm and continue to them. In the north-west of Ireland, and some few other places, where a remnant of ancient proprietary families are to be found, the power of the priesthood has never been consider- able. But these instances are not many ; and the general proposition is beyond all question, that never was there a priesthood supplied with such abundant and mighty means, for operating what- ever effect they might think proper upon the people. What have they accomplished ? We might answer this question, by drawing a picture of the Irish peasantry ; ferocious, artful, idle, sanguinary. We might point to a long list of dread enormities, — we might exhibit their fierce feuds, and rustic and deadly enmities ; their ven- geance appeased with blood only, — their deceit- fulness, except only in those compacts w^here the laws are to be violated, and crimes are to be perpe- trated, — and when we had drawn such a picture, we would ask, w hat has been the working of the two establishments in Ireland? Have these people been really Christianized by the expensive machinery ostensibly applied for this purpose ? • And when it is considered, also, that the natural qualities of the Irish peasantry are un- 142 CHURCH OF ROME commonly fine ; that they are kind, affectionate, zealous, devoted, generous, faithful, intelligent, and brave ; we shall be called to mourn over ruins more melancholy than those of Palmyra. It is true, that many of the excesses of this people can be traced to the pressure of various calamities with which the priesthood are no way concerned ; and that, perhaps, hardly any know- ledge of their duties would wholly restrain the violence which flows from these sources. But we do not think that we are extravagant or fanatical when we state our conviction, that a pure and genuine Christianity, if preached to the hearts and minds of the people, would cor- rect a great proportion of the evils under which they labour. We know, also, that much of the fierce and evil character of the people is the natural result of an utter ignorance of their duties, and of those strange and wild imagin- ations which they entertain respecting the cha- racter of Deity, and of the Providence which presides over the world. If the God they worship be an idol of their own imagination, pardoning sins, in consideration of the temptations and ne- cessities of his creatures, and requiring no ac- count of human frailties, — who is too good to be strict in his investigations, and too great to regard the every-day transactions of poor human IN IRELAND. 143 beings. If he be a God delighting in revenge and retribution, or looking with indulgence upon a just and pious vengeance, and regarding not the ordinances of human laws, nor the arbitrary arrangements of property amongst men, but only the justice or the necessity of the case. If such be the God of the Irish peasant, how can he be other than the violator of the laws, and the victim of his passions ? The religion of this people is, for the most part, a kind of fatalism ; they tell you of their crimes and their calamities, — that it was before them to commit and to endure, and they could not escape it. How could they contend with fate ? It was appointed for them to do and to suffer, and they have but accomplished their des- tiny ; they confess that this is not the language of the priest, but it is nevertheless true ; the priests, they admit, know every thing, but then they tell them only what they judge proper. The error of the Roman Catholic priesthood is, that they despise the people too much ; they think the high and deep questions of Deity and Providence above their comprehension ; they re- quire an implicit submission to dogmas, and an observance of certain ceremonials; but the rudest of human beings are not without ideas respecting 144 CHURCH OF ROME Providence, and the government of the world ; and they will assent to the dogma, and observe the ceremonial, without this assent or observance having any influence whatever upon the leading ideas which influence their character. The church of Rome insists upon forms, and accumu- lates external observances, until the people are encumbered, and the priesthood oppressed with their variety and inutility ; the approaches to the heart are blocked up with solemn lumber. By degrees, the people come to content themselves with these things, and the priest finds leisure to attend to little else. It is easier to go through the foiin of a ceremony, than to root out a vice ; it is in vain that you tell the people the ceremony is nothing ; if you insist upon its performance, they will think it something, and you cannot tell how much. As soon as you have succeeded in sub- stituting form for principle, you have destroyed all communion between God and his creature ; you have blotted out the Gospel ; and the rapid growth of depravity in the heart will speedily announce that the hand of the cultivator is with- drawn for ever. This process failed in France ; and, instead of Christianity, there sprang up a rank and baleful infidelity, which covered the face of that nation, and destroyed all sound and wholesome principle. It failed in Spain, and in Portugal, and left these IN IRELAND. 145 nations a prey to a stern and dark superstition, which withered and blasted every civil, social, and political virtue. The storm of the French invasion, which passed over these kingdoms, was a visitation of mercy, bringing with it the seeds of change and improvement. It failed in Italy, and the States of the Church itself, sig- nally, notoriously, and in the face of the whole world. Witness the deplorable state of these countries, and their wretched imbecility j wit- ness the Roman States, a helpless prey to cruel and cowardly banditti, and these banditti the faithful votaries of the Holy See ; the most de- vout adorers of the Virgin, punctual in prayer to their saints, and abundantly provided with images, amulets, and relics ; rising from the rosary to commit murder ; and amidst robbery and rapine, strictly observant of the fasts and feasts of the church* Nor is there any thing inconsistent in this ap- parently strange medley. The human heart loves its own vices and corruptions, and seizes eagerly upon every means by which it may retain these, and yet connect their indulgence with some flattering hopes of safety and happiness here- after ; forms and ceremonials offer these means, or appear to do so, in the apprehension of the people. VOL. I. L 146 CHURCH OF ROMI3 The church proposes its ceremonies as an in- citement to devotion ; the people take them as a substitute : take away the ceremonial, and they can no longer shelter their depravity and deceive themselves. But while you give them this cover for their iniquities, it is in vain that you talk to them about it, and shew them that it was not intended to be so applied ; they will listen to you, they will admit the reasonableness of your representations, and they will then quietly return to their vicious habits and their vain observances. This is human nature. In Ireland, the servant who will rob you with- out compunction, will rather be without food than eat flesh meat on fast days. The poor female outcast of the street, lost in vice and abandonment, is a punctual observer of the nu- merous festivals of her church. There are many who, if they were without these means of self- delusion, would still cling to their vices in open defiance of conviction, but a great number would abandon them in horror of their deformity, when dragged from every cover, and exhibited in the light of truth. The Roman church pretends to a kind of in- fallibility, not accurately defined. But the priest of this infallible church is often a yery weak and 15 IN IRELAND. 147 fallible man. The people are called upon to dis- tinguish between the organ of a perfect church, and perfect as an organ, and the imperfect and sinful being who is placed in this situation ; it is impossible to make this distinction, and the cause of truth, and the authority of religion, suffer in the person of their supposed organ. The people identify the priest and the doctrine ; they have no other standard to refer to, for they are unac- quainted with the gospel, which, alone, is perfect and unchangeable. The clergy of this church generally oppose the instruction of the people, if connected with the reading of the Scriptures. We have seen the crowded and shrieking children turned forcibly out of the schools, which charity had erected for their instruction ; we have seen the little frighted victims, rushing from the quiet and happy asy- lum which had been provided for them, and wandering in despondency upon the roads, where they were condemned by their " Christian pastors" / to resume their old habits of vice and idleness. If the parents enquire the reason of this strange proceeding, they are told, that the Scripture is a book they must not look into ; it would make them Protestants. A higher compliment than this was never made to the protestant faith j if h 2 148 CHURCH OF ROME they happen not to be sufficiently terrified by the bugbear of protestantism, and are still inclined to send their children to school, they are told that punishment will assuredly follow ; absolution will be refused the offender, the sacrament will be withheld in time of need, and he will be suffered to die without Christian rights ; and the terrified victim of poverty and superstition is subdued. That the clergy of this church should be oc- casionally, and in various places, successful in this opposition to education, and to the circula- tion of the Scriptures, is to be expected. But the effort will raise new questions, and lead to en- quiries w^hich had never before suggested them- selves to the poor. This breaks the ground. The opposition of the clergy to schools and bibles, though successful, will not fail to leave an impression unfavourable to the church, hardly perceptible, perhaps, even to the people who are the subjects of it, but yet certain. New efforts will be made ; they cannot fail to be partially effective. New opposition, perhaps, will be en- countered, but the question will not rest ; it wdll come at length to be generally discussed amongst the people. In these Bible schools, as they are called, very few children, in point of fact, read the Bible. IN IRELAND. 149 Nevertheless, the anathemagoes forth against those who read, and those who do not j and where the obnoxious Testament has been totally withdrawn, in order that by this sacrifice, the poor might be permitted to acquire the rudiments of a moral education, it was found that the sacrifice was made in vain : it was enough for condemnation, that the school was in connexion with some one of those charitable societies who have devoted their exertions to the instruction of the poor ; and this uncompromising hostility has been exercised where there was no alternative : — the ignorance and depravity of the poor, or the as- sistance of the society. A wise enemy to this church would rather excite such a debate as this between priest and people, than put a Bible into the hands of every poor child in the kingdom. The Irish peasant, with all his apparent submission and outward respect, is a sharp, and not always a charitable observer of the conduct of his own clergy ; he is without a rival in his perception of character ; if you despise him he is not sorry, he would rather lead you into this error ; the weapon he uses most adroitly is the cimning, which is hid under the folds of a thick and apparently im- practicable stupidity ; when you are lost in amazement and derision, he smiles inwardly, L 3 150 CHURCH OF ROME and is sure of his object ; he holds you com- pletely defeated, and in his power. The parish-priest is as often the subject of this cunning management as any other person. His motives are as much canvassed, his objects as strictly inquired into, his errors as freely cen- sured, and his character as thoroughly under- stood. Those who know the Irish peasantry, need not fear the power of the church. We have said that the error of the clergy is, gene- rally, that they despise the people too much» Acquainted with their vices and their ignorance, they overlook their extraordinary sagacity. They count, also, too much upon their own influence and power. Into these errors they are led, by having been, some of them, too near the level of the populace. Those who are themselves taken from the ranks of the people, unless possessing extraordinary talents, are the most apt to fall into errors concerning them. We do not dis- cern distinctly the whole bearing and power of those objects with which we have been much conversant, and which have been very close to us. It requires some distance, yet not too re- mote, to see moral as well as physical objects with clearness, and in all their proportions. The Catholic church will contend against schools and bibles at a great risk; but she will IN IRELAND. 151 contend in vain against the spirit of the age, the spirit of knowledge, and of free inquiry. If this church, or if Cliristianity itself, could be maintained by no other means, than by abrogat- ing the undoubted rights of mankind — the rights of the meanest, as well as of the highest of the species, to examine and judge for himself, we should not hesitate to say, that it ought to be left to perish, and ought not to be supported by such means. What is the value of the faith, whose main buttress is ignorance ? The Bible cannot be understood, say the clergy, by these ignorant people. What, then, are the clergy but a living commentary upon the Bible ? This should be the sole object of their preaching* The first teachers of Christianity were no more. Those who came after thought it would save time and trouble to set aside the text and substitute the commentary. The time is come when the text must be re- stored. The New Testament is nothing more than a simple narrative of the establishment of Christianity, and the preaching of the apostles. Is it not amazing arrogance in any churchmen to set aside forcibly the preaching of the apos- tles, and to substitute their own. The apostles still preach in the gospels ; but, say the clergy of the Roman church, their preaching is obscure, L 4 152 CHURCH OF ROME and unfit for the people, we will lead them to the truth by a surer road. Such is the modesty of modern churchmen ; but our concern is for the people, the victims of so many tyrannies. The Roman Catholic clergy are left to collect what they can from the people ; and their exactions have been sometimes, and in some places, matter of serious complaint. To these the Captains Rock, of different periods, have frequently directed their attention. In some parts of Ireland, the priest's dues are regu- lated by the bishop of the diocese ; but, gene- rally they get what they can ; and levy their fees for marriage, baptism, &c. according to what they conceive to be the ability of the party. These charges are, therefore, sometimes very high ; for the party cannot go out of the parish ; the rule of the church being, to give to every parish priest a monopoly of his own cure. It has been proposed to pay this clergy moderate salaries out of the public purse ; and nothing, in our opinion, could be more just and proper, provided the country were relieved, at the same time, from the evil of tithe, and that the enormous church establishment of Ireland were placed upon a reasonable foundation. But to burden the country at this time with a second IN IRELAND* 163 legal establishment, leaving the other upon its present scale, would be very unwise and unjust. We should be glad to see, as in France, an esta- blishment for Christianity, instead of an esta- bhshment for sects ; and if ever there was a country where a measure of this kind was expe- dient, it is Ireland — distracted with the hos- tile collision of sects, and grown wild and savage from the want of Christianity. It is melancholy to hear the grave and solemn debate, which is still prolonged, concerning the supposed danger of the connection between the Roman church of Ireland and the Roman see. There is no longer any danger : the Pope is but a name in Europe. The clergy of this church, too, feel more as Irishmen than as priests. They would not be the servants of the Pope, for any evil purpose. But we can imagine cases where they would be the enemies of England, though the Pope were at her back : we say this to their credit. No class of men feel more for their country, or have sutler ed more, or more patiently and heroically for the religion they professed, and the land they loved. We differ from many of them upon important points ; but there are some with whom we could cordially agree, and, as a body, they are entitled to our respect for a zealous and unpretending discharge I54f CHURCH OF ROME of severe and important duties ; — for their past conduct, during ages of suffering and persecution, they claim our admiration. The church of Rome in Ireland is a machine of great power, and perfect in its detail and ar- rangement; its organization is complete. Per- haps the inferior orders, or what has been properly denominated, the working clergy, are too much in the power and subject to the caprice of the higher dignitaries. This has taken place, partly, in consequence of the impolicy of the law, in refusing to recognize this powerful class of men. The law of the land does not, as in the case of the established church, control and circumscribe the power of the bishops ; the catholic rector has no freehold in his hving, and may be displaced without cause ; the power and patronage in the hands of the superior clergy is therefore very great. To direct some of this to the service of the state was the object of the veto, as it was pro- posed in parliament. The value of the veto was, in our opinion, greatly overrated. The Roman Catholic clergy in Ireland, have no great politi- cal influence with the people ; they have hardly checked, any where, the operations of Captain Rock and the other White-boy leaders ; though they have been very sincere in their efforts to do so. IN IRELAND. 155 Those who overrate their power, are incHned to doubt their sincerity ; they cannot understand why a man, who appears in most cases to exer- cise a despotic dominion over the minds of the people, should be utterly without influence, where the question is between the state and its subjects. The reason is, that, though the people are greatly attached to the church, they are more attached to their country. They would renounce the church without hesitation, if it were to be- come the pensioner of the government, unless they were first thoroughly reconciled to the latter. The priest has influence, almost without limits, when he falls in with the political bias of the people ; when he opposes that bias, his influ- ence is greatly diminished ; and when the pas- sions of the populace are roused, and in arms, from the memory of antient wrongs, or recent oppression, his control is reduced to nothing. If his character be a good one, and he has been respected, he may turn away the crowd from a metUtated outrage, or save a destined victim ; this will be the extent of his ability. The populace will be inclined to believe, not- withstanding all assurances to the contrary, that the priest is not really opposed to their courses 5 156 CHURCH OF ROME they consider that he is compelled, from his situ- ation, to put on the appearance of discourage- ment ; but they know his mind, as they imagine, upon the point, and they will act upon what they believe him to think, and to feel in common with them, rather than upon what he says ; ii\ however, they become convinced of his sincerity, the case is not mended; they now regard him in the light of a traitor, and he ceases to have any influence whatever; nor will his sacred office always insure the safety of his person. It may be considered strange, that so much power as the Catholic clergy possess, should be so easily laid aside ; but it is a power for ordinary occasions only; it may be strong enough to check the passions moving in the narrow round of their every day circle ; but when the signal for some great contest is given, and they leap into the arena prepared for the conflict, the power of the priest is a withe of rushes. If government do but attach the people, they need not regard the veto ; if they do not, no veto, nor ecclesiastical arrangement of whatso- ever kind, will avail them any thing ; they may, perhaps, purchase the clergy with money, or with power ; but the people are to be purchased by good government only. IX IRELAND. 157 The Roman Catholic clergy possess a perfect knowledge of the state of the country ; a know- ledge very rare and difficult to be acquired in Ireland. They are not always capable of reason- ing well, or drawing right conclusions, from what comes under their notice, and the scenes and feelings that lie open to their view; but there are some amongst them very capable of this ; and their meetings are so frequent, at con- ferences, visitations, &c., that they have every opportunity to combine, and compare their ob- servations. The uncontrouled power of the higher clergy, gives to the whole coiys ecclesias- tique, much of the discipline and subordination of a military body. Instead of grasping at a parliamentary veto, why should not government negotiate a regular concordat with the Pope, regulating the state of the Cathohc church of Ireland, regulating the power of the bishops, fixing the dues of the parish clergy, and placing the church generally upon a respectable and proper footing ? this is the only right course to take, if it be considered at all necessary to do any thing upon the subject. And when other and more pressing things are accomplished, we think it would be wise to do so. The clergy should not be left wholly de- pendant upon the people for support, nor should 158 CHURCH OF ROME the people be given up to the exactions of the clergy. All this demands regulation ; we are far from desiring another <* Establishment" in Ire- land. An establishment, as we understand it, sig- nifies something exclusive; a state sect upon which every good thing is lavished to the exclusion of all others. If this were a new case, we would put all sects upon an equality, and give to the Catho- lic, and to the Protestant teachers, a reasonable reward for their services out of the public purse. As the matter stands, we would be content to see the public relieved from the burden of tithe, by a fair commutation, leaving the rest to time. It has been the fashion, because many other things are of pressing necessity in Ireland, to underrate the importance of Catholic emancipa- tion. This question has lost nothing of its importance. It demands attention, not because it would feed, or clothe, or employ the peasantry, or act upon the necessities of the people, but be- cause it would act upon their minds and imagin- ations, a thing almost as important. It will not succeed, always, to do real and substantial service, if you refuse the shadowy distinction ; the ribbon is often more than the office ; we do not mean, however, to insinuate that Catholic emancipation would not be a substantial service, we think it would be a very real one j and it appears most IN IRELAND. 159 Strange to us, that this important question should be encumbered and embarrassed with that of the veto, as if to obtain some doubtful influence with the clergy, were of more, or as much, import- ance, as to make an interest with a whole nation. The veto, or the securities as they are called, may spoil the effect of emancipation upon the minds of the people, but they could gain nothing for the state ; we would advise that these be separate and distinct measures. Whatever may be done with regard to the church may follow, but should not precede or accompany the measure of emancipation. If it be necessary to tack the veto, or security, to the other measure, in order to give it a chance of success, the necessity will be a misfortune. 160 PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH OF IRELAND. SOCINIANISM. X HE astonishing effects produced by Christianity when first it appeared upon the earth, in its power and purity, remain upon record ; when afterwards it ceased to be the rehgion of a few select congregations only, and became the pro- fession of governments and nations, those effects were no longer prominently visible. But with all the pretension and corruption which have mingled with the faith of Christ, there have been, in every age, numbers upon whom this religion has had its full effect. There have been thou- sands at every period, and in every country, who have felt and believed like Fenelon and Pascal. But the crowd has ever struggled to escape from a religion, whose high pretensions and severe exactions admitted no compromise ; this could only be done by forgetfulness or delusion ; by turning away the attention from a subject that was painful, or by working upon the mind or PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, ScC, l6l imagination, until these came to consider it as something other than it was, and to bow down with complacency before an idol of their own formation. By this double process it is, that the bulk of Christian nations have escaped from Christianity. The vulgar intrench their vices, for the most part, behind the ceremonials of worship, or flee with them into the mazes of business and the cares of life ; the better educated and the thoughtful, find protection in the region of learned infidelity, or, if they are disposed to compromise with con- science, or with what they may consider to be the prejudices of the public, they take up their position in the intermediate district of 8oci- nianism. We have known few Socinian congregations, a majority of which were not pure Deists, who yet thought it right to observe the decency of pub- lic worship, or expedient to avoid the reproach of decided infidelity. Socinianism, as a middle term between Christianity and unbeliefj is sur- rounded with difficulties ; it treats the Scripture as in part unintelligible and inconsistent, and therefore to be in part rejected, or explained with such latitude and freedom permitted to the expositors, as would not be thought decent to VOL. I. M l(jQ PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH allow in the case of any ordinary writer. A Soci- nian must consider the Divine Spirit as the worst author that ever put pen to paper ; and accord- ingly he treats him as never author was treated before. If the proofs of Christianity are not sufficient, it is right, it is fair, to reject them ; but to receive tliem as sufficient and divine, and then to deal with the announcements of the Most High, as we would not do witli the declarations of the meanest individual, is a monstrous inconsistency, so much so that we believe there are few Soci- nians, though there are many Deists. Socinianism is frequently the high road which leads away from Christianity, and sometimes also the path which conducts to it ; it is not an abiding place, but a place of passage, few can rest in it ; or if they seem to do so, it is generally, because they find it difficult to decide, or inex- pedient to determine which way they should bend their course. Since the time infidelity became fashionable in France, under the powerful patronage which the wit and genius of Voltaire and d' Alembert and their associates afforded, and the more effi» cient encouragement which it received from the 18 OF IRELAND. SOCINTANISM. iGS abuses of the Establishment in that country, and the vices of the great ; unbeUef has made nu- merous converts among the lettered portion of mankind ; of these a great number, scared by the horrors of the French revolution, lapsed into Socinianism. We do not believe that infide- lity produced the revolution, though we have no doubt it greatly aggravated its enormities. The religion which existed at that period in France would hardly have supported the state. No- thing surely can be more absurd than to think, that the abuses of government are to be sus- tained by the corruptions of Christianity ; yet this is a favourite and prevailing notion. If Deism or Socinianism were widely extended over the surface of society, or had made a secure or firm lodgement in the bulk of the populace, we think the effect would be very disastrous ; such persons as compose the mass of mankind, relieved from the immediate presence of Deity, would rush into the abominations of paganism, or settle down into a determined and reckless indulgence of their own vices. But the Socinians of our time, and many of the infidels also, are not, in our opinion, only not worse than the generality of the professors of the orthodox faith, but perhaps they may be con- M g 164 PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH sidered, compared to bodies of men, as being better ; they are frequently men, who, if they could be brought to receive the doctrines of Chris- tianity as they are revealed, would not be satisfied w ith the inconsistent and sterile profession of the crowd, wlio call themselves Christians ; they are often spirits of a higher order, who, if they could be made to bow the neck to the doc- trine of the divinity of Christ, would disdain to have any reserve, and would bow the wliole heart with it ; the inconsistency of belief and self-indulgence is for meaner and baser minds. It is a vulgar prejudice w^hich assumes that those who reject the Gospel and its essential doctrines are always, or generally, bad men de- voted to their vices ; they are, perliaps, more fre- quently proud men, devoted to their favourite speculations ; men who prefer to walk in the light of their own knowledge, and to be happy after their own fashion ; they w^ould not be compelled even to happiness. They are little acquainted with the human heart, who do not know that this perverseness may reside in the most gentle and amiable bosoms, and may be found nestling in breasts warm with every gene- rous and nobler feeling, and unstained with any of the coarser criminalities of mankind. OF IRELAND. —SOCINrANlSM. l6o The leading doctrine of the Gospel, and that most insisted upon, is faith ; and to faith, as it is there propounded, great merit and wonderful effects are ascribed. Faith, according to the great apostle of the Gentiles, is every thing ; but the faitli of the Socinians is nothing. Why Paul insisted upon faith need not be explained. It is obvious that any one believing in the descent of Deity upon the earth — in what he did, and suf- fered, and required — in the clear and awful announcements of his will; — any one so be- lieving can need no other conversion. His whole heart must be subdued. Christ, if but a prophet after the manner of Moses, did little, and did that little in vain. The glowing announcements of the inspired writers of Judea, and the loily gratulations of the apostles, were but an idle sound. We are still at an immeasurable distance from the Creator ; what he has done for this unhappy creation, calls for no extraordinary returns of love or gratitude. The heart may shut itself up in its own selfishness, and repose in quiet upon its favourite corruptions ; there is nothing to dis- turb its slumber, or awaken it to a new life, or call it forth to a more glorious existence, by the wonders of a love which demands an equal return, M 3 166 PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH and in that return finds the cure of every evil which afflicts humanity. Christ dwells upon his own death, as the great event which was to change the world. His moral teaching is insisted upon but little ; it was not new or extraordinary ; it differed little from that of the wise men of the Jews or heathens ; it ap- plied itself, indeed, more to the heart and less to the conduct — to the source of action, rather than to the action itself. But in whatsoever it differed from the morality with which these nations were before acquainted, it is difficult to explain why, for such a purpose as this merely — for stating a few moral propositions, of no extra- ordinary or uncommon kind — it should be thought necessary to get up the amazing ma- chinery of Judaism, its temple, ceremonies, sa- crifices, priests, and prophets ; a series of mira- cles, extending through a long line of ages, to end in a little morality, said almost as well by many an obscure individual, in various parts of the world. This is incredible. Besides, it is of the nature of mere moral teaching to have very little effect. There was much of it amongst the ancients, but it never reformed the world. Neither was the OF IRELAND. SOCINIANISM, Idj death of Christ more than the death of Socrates or of Isaiah, if he were no more than these. But our business is not with the truth or false- hood of the doctrine of Socinus, but with its moral effects. And we have been led to the con- sideration of these, by the extraordinary spec- tacle which the Presbyterian church of Ireland presents at this moment. This church is re- ported to have, in part, lapsed into Socinianism. The synod of Antrim is said to be openly and professedly of this faith, and it is stated that there are few of its churches which are not infected. Presbyterianism, we are told, implies a mode of church government only, no matter what may be the faith or profession of its members. The worship of such congregations may be Chris- tian or antichristian ; but, provided the congre- gations be organised in a certain manner, and assume a certain appellation, they are Presby- terian. These congregations may adore the goddess of reason, or bow down before the idols of Africa or India, and they would still be Pres- byterian. We would not object to a name, but names are sometimes matters of importance. The Presbyterian church is one of great emi- nence in the world. It were well if it could be M 4 168 PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH known what are her tenets. Numbers are led into error by assuming that the profession of the church of Scotland is that of the Presbyterian church generally. In Ireland this church makes no profession of faith. We do not object to Socinian congregations, or to congregations of Deists or Atheists, if there are such ; we would allow to all the most per- fect freedom. But we object to this confusion of names, to this juggle of profession. We ob- ject to Socinians concealed under the name of Presbyterians ; and to Deists professing to be Socinians. The public are deceived ; and con- gregations are led away into error, without in- tending to expose themselves to the danger of false doctrine. The public are deceived also in another way. Out of the public purse the Presbyterian congre- gations of Ireland receive considerable sums of money. We would ask, what for? Is not one " established^^ clergy enough to burden the people of Ireland with ? Must the poor peasant pay his quota also to this wealthy church ? The Presbyterians of the north are the wealthiest portion of the Irish people. They are in posses- sion of the only flourishing manufacture of the country. And yet it is to the clergy of these OF IRELAND. SOCINIANISM. 169 rich manufacturers, that the impoverished pea- sant of the south is obhged to contribute ; for the weight of taxation falls upon the poor ; whom the general distress and impoverishment of the country deprive of employment. The " Regium Donum*' is given to all congre- gations in Ireland assuming the name of Presby- terian, who choose to take it. In this way there may be a great Socinian and Deistical establish- ment in that country paid in part out of the public purse. The disciples of Hume and Vol- taire, and the followers of Socinus, might tax the country, that their philosophers may moral- ise in their pulpits, and argue at leisure upon cause and effect, and all the phenomena of the moral and physical world. It is no way creditable to these Churches, in all respects so competent to their own support, that they should cUp their hands in the exhausted purse of the public. But it is a greater reproach that they should be permitted to do so. We do not mean to say, that all the Presby- terian Churches of Ireland are Socinian ; nor that all the Socinian Congregations are Deistical -, but we mean to state that this is asserted of a great portion of both. Neither do we charge 170 PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH these opinions, nor any opinions as criminal ; but we have found in some of these congrega- tions, both in the ministers and members, a degree of equivocation and disingenuousness, highly discreditable. A paltering between their half-avowed faith and half-advanced pretension, which may be prudent, but is far from being righteous or just. Righteousness wears the guise of no unreal seeming, and justice demands that we should show ourselves to all in our true shape and proportions. We would not dwell upon this falling off of the Presbyterian Church, if we did not think it an evil of great magnitude. If this creed were widely spread amongst the middle and lower classes of society, it would produce, we are per- suaded, a very evil effect. It would lead, in a short time, to deism in both ; and this, when it had reached the inferior strata of mankind, would unfold its real character. It is at this level only, that we can try the truth of religion. Its effect upon the vulgar is the test of its purity or spuri- ousness. For here, its natural working is not counteracted by those numerous ingredients which correct or neutralise its operation on the middle or higher orders, such as competence, rank, taste, ambition, fortune. Those who would ascertain the truth of religion, must watch it as it works upon the mass of mankind. OF IRELAND. SOCINIANISM. I7I The religion of Christ was first preached to the poor, and to the poor it still chiefly belongs. The preacher whose text is the duties of life, preaches a cold and an ordinary theme. What has he to do with it, whose life is toil and suffering ? He is, perhaps, honest — perhaps, good and kind, but his lot is in poverty and privation. Your moral disquisitions fall upon his ear as things which do not apply to his case, and with which he has no concern. The whole duties of his life are shut up within a narrow circle, they must, of necessity, be performed, and the difficulties of his situation make all other obligations to him as though they existed not. But has this man no need of consolation in his life of labour — no need of support to en- able him to sustain the heavy burdens of his lot ? He may look round this wide world in vain for such consolation or support. Before him lies a road — dark, and terminating in the grave; it is his only path- way, and his allotted toil is set out on every rood of it. Neither is there any support for the weary traveller, whose burdens, heavy at the outset of his journey, are increased as he goes along, and doubled and accumulated as his strength decays, and his spirits fail, and his limbs tremble, and 17^ PHESBYTKRIAN CHURCH SLifteriiig and sorrow press upon his heart. Shall he go to the elegant preacher of refined mo- ralities, — or listen to the learned speculations of the acute philosopher of the pulpit ; and will these console and sustain him ? Will he not rather go to him who unfolds the mystery of this world's wretchedness, and lets in the sunshine and the glory of another region upon the darkness and the poverty of this ? How, except by this revelation, can he be assured of futurity ? Or that, if it lift him from rottenness, it will bring him to a happier world than he has escaped from ? The feeling which pervades all the lower classes of mankind, of their evil and hopeless destiny — their sense of their own unworthiness and unfitness for another and better world, bring these, the heavy laden of the human race, round the cross of the Redeemer. And when they can find one who preaches from this text, and under this standard, they flock to this only hope, and listen anxiously to these sounds, so soothing to the ear of wretchedness. Hence the magic of evangelical preaching. This kind of preaching has charms also for those in the higher classes, who have felt the OF IRELAND. -=—SOCINTANISM. I'J^t weariness of life, or the horror of being stained with guilt, which no unction of this world's wis- dom could rub out. What will avail to these your smooth moralities and philosophical specu- lations ? Will these cure the sickness of a satiated heart, or the anguish of a wounded spirit ? Sucli persons as these are found occasionally driven from their high places, to come and take tlieir stations among the poor and the despised of the world, at the foot of the cross — feverish and diseased, or with the arrows which guilt had in- fixed, rankling in the reeking bosom. Add to these, sometimes, the lofty spirits of the world, who are weary of the bustle and the insipidity of life ; and who, if they disdain this shelter, iind, perhaps, the fatal refuge of a self-prepared grave. These are few. The rich and exalted, sur- rounded by the pleasures and gratifications of the world — lifted up, like Paul, by the pride of life, into regions above humanity; but buffeted by no pitying spirit, commissioned to repress the swelling eddies of human arrogance, and the vain imaginations of the heart ; — this class of persons find something exceedingly mean, and distasteful, and foolish, in the story of the Crucifixion. Quiet, secure, dwelling upon the lofty eminences of the world, and shut out almost from the view of the dark and terrible 1 74 PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH ocean of life, which toils for ever below them, and is for ever covered with wreck and wretch- edness, they cannot see the necessity of such a beacon, set up for the lost and ruined of man- kind — a refuge for the guilty spirit and the broken heart. But he whose happier place has been nearer to the storm, which blows without ceasing, through the deep vallies of the world, and has heard the cry and the wailing of the miserable of the earth, ascending for ever, — such a one may understand why the cross was set up on high ; the one only light, amidst the clouds, which lie so thick upon the destiny of the species — the only sure pledge of another and a better world. Socinianism cannot be the religion of the poor and the wretched ; and the strong spirits, and the exalted in rank, disdain tliis ambiguous pro- fession ; it belongs to the timid unbeliever, or the prudent manager of this world's interests. This christianised Deism involves itself in more diffi- culties than it seeks to avoid ; but it attains its object perhaps in keeping well with the populace, by the semblance of a Christian worship, while it sacrifices none of the corruptions of the heart : the scheme of Socinus calls for no sacrifice, which a prudent consideration of self-interest would OF IRELAND. ^ SOCINIANTSM. IJ5 not demand. The religion of Socinus is the re- ligion of the prudent calculator, and the enlight- ened worldling : if it were general it would be abominable ; it would open wide the flood-gates of human depravity ; but checked and restrained as it is, it is almost harmless. We object only to the establishment which it has obtained in Ireland. 176 POPULATION. — MR. MALTHUS. In treating of Ireland, the subject of population cannot be overlooked. On this hitherto difficult enquiry, it cannot be denied that Mr. Malthus has thrown much light. If his investigations have passed beyond the bright but shadowy outline, which it was the fashion to throw round our world ; and if he has found a wall of iron encompassing the earth and its inhabitants, he is not answerable for the discovery, nor to be blamed, because the result of his researches lead him to conclude, that we are straitened on every side, and cannot pass beyond the limits assigned to us. What man, indeed, is there who has walked his little way in the world, and has not felt that there was a line which he could not pass, meeting him wherever he turned, and limiting his course? And is it surprising that this also should be the condition of the species ? But it is asked, is not this theory of Mr. Mal- thus, an imputation upon Providence? If this POPULATION. 177 theory be true, how can God be the wise and beneficent Being which he undoubtedly is? We answer, that it was Mr. Malthus's immediate business to discover the truth, as it regarded the question of population, not to vindicate the ways of God. These are often " past finding out :" and if this sad account of the condition of man be indeed true, we do not see that it is greatly in- consistent with the whole train of his moral his- tory, or with those revelations of his early and disastrous fortunes, or those announcements con» cerning his future destiny, with which we are acquainted. Whether we take these from re- cords, sacred or profane, there is little in them flattering to our nature. We do not, however, concur with Mr. Mal- thus in much of his speculations upon this im- portant subject. We think he has dogmatized a little too much, and attempted to reduce the great question he treated, to rather too narrow a point. In every imaginable state of things, he lays it down, that population must press upon food : whether a nation be in its infancy, maturity, or age; whether there be an abundance of rich and unoccupied lands, or none, the case is ever the same ; and, according to this writer, population bears with equal weight upon sub- sistence. VOL. I. N 178 POPULATION. In our opinion, this is not proved nor capable of proof. It is evident, that in the Turkish dominions, in Southern Siberia, and in various other parts of the world, the increase of popula- tion is prevented by other causes than a want of food. It would be more accurate to say, that these — ignorance, barbarity, oppression, im- policy, or whatever they may be, retard popula- tion, than to affirm, as Mr. Maltlius does, that these first prevent the increase of food, and afterwards by means of this prevention check population. Land is food. The little exertion and skill which is needed in most parts of the world to obtain the latter, where the former is abundant, need hardly be mentioned. In Ireland the whole stock of the peasant is often no more than a spade, and his potato garden flourishes around his dwelling, which has been,, perhaps, the work of a day and of his own hands^ without implement or assistance. Population, generally, will not increase under despotic government, even where there is abun- dance of land ; and the few inhabitants of such countries will be frequently in want of food, and their numbers will be reduced by famine. This is to be accounted for, by the despondency and insecurity which shadow the dominions of des- potism. There is a moral check of population POPULATION. 179 arising out of the position and institutions of so- ciety, which is neither the vice nor the misery of Mr. Malthus, nor yet his moral restraint, and which would have its effect, though the subjects of it were to be fed gratuitously with imported corn. But we chiefly object to the agency which Mr. Malthus lias provided, for reducing popula- tion to a level with the supply of food. This writer makes too much account of vice, and introduces it with somewhat of the air and cha- racter of an appointment of Providence, as an evil spirit sent forth from the throne of God to corrupt and destroy mankind. We admit that if it were so, Mr. Malthus would not be an- swerable j but vice is clearly not of the appoint- ment of Providence, neither has it any very considerable effect in reducing the population. The great sources of population are to be found in the lower levels of life, and the vices of the vulgar do not diminish the stream. As Mr. Malthus has treated vice as something in the nature of an appointed means for check- ing the growth of population ; so he appears to treat the immoralities, which he justly appre- hends as likely to flow from his favourite prin- ciple of moral restraint, with rather too much N 2 180 POPULATION, tenderness. Moral restraint, according to Mr. Malthus, is merely a restraint upon marriage, from prudential motives. He considers, and rightly, that illegitimate connexions do not in- crease the population in a very great degree. But we are persuaded, that these do increase the population in a much greater degree than Mr. Malthus is willing to admit; they do not, indeed, overstock the particular classes of society in which they prevail ; the overflowings of the vices of the higher orders are received in the middle ranks, and those of this class settle in levels farther down ; the advantage, if it can be so called, is to each particular class ; its wealth, privileges, and enjoyments are preserved from being scattered over too wide a surface ; the passions of the individual are indulged, while he preserves his place and rank in society, and is called upon for no sacrifice which could wound his pride and lessen his selfish enjoyments. Moral restraint, in Mr. Malthus's view of it, will not, we apprehend, be found so greatly to diminish the population as he counts upon ; and he has not provided or suggested any defence which may be used against the deluge of vicious indulgence, which would undoubtedly flow in upon society from the extension of this principle. We believe that Mr. Malthus's principle of moral POPULATION. 181 restraint is better understood, and operates far more extensively in some nations of the Conti- nent than in these countries. The fear of a family is found to prevail pretty generally in France and Italy, and other places, and has led to practices which we shall not name, but to which we should greatly prefer the potato, and the poverty, and the numerous progeny of Ireland. We may preach prudence and celibacy, and it may not be very difficult to excite, in many, a very lively alarm as to the burdens which follow marriage ; but can we restrain the passions ? Will Mr. Malthus succeed in inculcating chastity ? No. — Look at the upper classes j these are already too much impressed with the terrors of a family. With all the advantages of knowledge and education, what are their habits ? And what reason has Mr. Malthus to hope that better morals will prevail amongst those who have less motive and information ? The disso- luteness of the vulgar is excessive and unmixed abomination. Whether we view man as an in- dividual, or consider nations in all their great and various interests, we must come to the con- clusion — that even wretchedness is better than vice ; poverty may destroy numbers, but vice will taint the whole mass. N 3 18^ POPULATION. Misery is one of those checks to population which cannot be disputed ; it is a general term, and may be understood to signify want generally; it is incident to poverty, and amongst the poor attends the ordinary accidents of life, — sickness, death, want of employment, decay of trade, and a variety of contingencies ; it visits nations in the formidable shape of famine, pestilence, and war. We fear that these visitations, whether they take their course amongst the families of a district, or come to reckon with nations for their offences, are, for the most part, either the direct appointments of Providence, or growing naturally out of the enormous mass of evil, in which the world we live in, and all mankind have been, beyond memory, sunk and overwhelmed. There seems little doubt that if we could in- crease the degree of virtuous, moral restraint, or the checks upon marriage, unaccompanied by vicious indulgence, we should diminish the amount of misery in the world ; and yet, though Mr. Malthus argues to establish this point, his reasonings elsewhere have a tendency to shake it. He attempts to prove that to what degree so- ever we may reduce the population, we shall reduce still more the supply of food, so that in no conceivable case shall we able to escape the I POPULATION. 183 talons of misery. If this be true, we may lay aside our speculations, and consign ourselves to despair ; — but it is true, if at all, with much qua- lification. Something, we conceive, may be done to raise the taste of a nation, and to improve its habits, without greatly reducing the supply of food, or incurring the peril of dissoluteness. We think, liowever, that such improvement would rather tend to augment the capital of the country, and add to the comforts of the people, than ma- terially diminish the amount of population. If the attention of the state were steadily directed to the education of the country, and some of that care and concern which is so lavishly bestowed upon revenue, were led to embrace the minds of the people, and devoted to this great and neg- lected object of legislation, we might expect a great amelioration of the condition of the poor — increased industry, and a great increase of na- tional wealth, but no very material reduction in the numbers of the people. We might see a little capital in the hands of each family, im- proved cottages, and a few articles of good fur- niture in each ; this would add much to the stock of national wealth and individual comfort, but it would hardly reduce the stock of the people. Population, on the contrary, would, perhaps, be increased; but the condition of the people would be improved, and their comforts augmented also. N 4 184 POPULATION. Few marry without some reasonable hope of supporting a family. Yet there are so many instances every day occurring, and before the eyes of the public, of persons marrying under very discouraging circumstances, who emerge in a short time, by means of industry and good fortune, from the darkness which surrounded their outset in life, and find their way to competence and fortune ; and again, the clouds of an evil and resistless destiny have so often gathered and closed around the fairest prospects of a happy life, and the fair tint of the morning has so frequently set in storm and darkness ; that Mr. Malthus's prin- ciple of moral restraint, a principle with which the poor are perfectly well acquainted, fails in nu- merous instances to produce its natural effect, while the eye of hope turns to every case of happy fortune, or dwells upon the failure of all that prudence could accomplish, and the best calcu- lations could have prepared. Perhaps this uncertainty in all good or evil results, this sport which fortune so frequently makes with human prudence, may be necessary to keep population full, or to restrain the over- flowings of vice, with which the bar of an immoveable principle, meeting the passions in their natural channel, might deluge the world. POPULATION. 185 Mr. Malthus has shown tliat a thin population, even when dwelHng upon large tracts of rich lands, and suffering under no great degree of misgovernment or oppression, are not necessarily happier or more abundantly supplied than others, as in Southern Siberia. This may be the case, though we profess not to understand Mr. Malthus's reasons for it. But even if it were otherwise, we should prefer the inconve- niences and the advantages of a dense popula- tion. The elegancies, the refinements, the scientific and literary treasures of the world can only be worked out in a great population. Whatsoever has adorned and elevated human nature, has ever been struck out in the close and keen collision of many minds, and required the warmth and the brightness and the reflection of crowded and kindred spirits ; though it may be, that for these advantages we are destined to pay the price of misery, inflicted upon multitudes of that crowd, whose working, taken altogether, is so full of usefulness and splendour. The whole of human life and affairs is a system of set-off and compensation ; a great population has its evils, and much misery is one of them. But who would forego on this account all the mighty advantages which have been gained to the human race, and have been gained by means 186 POPULATION. only of an overflowing multitude. A great population is a great blessing : this is the com- mon sense of mankind : this is the impression which has existed upon this subject in every age of the world, and amongst every people ; neither, we are persuaded, when this subject shall come to be better understood, will it be found to be a vulgar prejudice or a popular error. In the Old Testament we find that a great population is announced as something glorious, and greatly to be desired, and frequently pro- nounced to be a great blessing. Yet, surely, the crowded population of Judea had their full proportion of misery. We contend for the advan- tages of a full population ; and we are of opinion, that these furnish a perfect and adequate counter- balance to all the evils, which unhappily must, perhaps, ever accompany it. We do not dis- pute the correctness of Mr. Malthus's argument generally : the tendency of population to in- crease to the uttermost is clearly established, and that it brings with it much misery cannot be doubted. But Mr. Malthus has not sufficiently dwelt upon the other side of the question ; there is a gloomy and uniform sameness in the picture he has exhibited. We cannot rise from the perusal 19 POPULATION. 187 of his essay, without a conviction that there is much truth, generally, in his leading argument, and a deep impression of the mingled des- tiny of human nature ; but if we consider that there is much to console us which has not been exhibited, that the mighty and magnificent pro- portions of a great population, with all their works of wisdom and of grandeur, have not been dis- played, we will stay our sorrowing till we have examined whether, indeed, our case be so help- less, and our destiny so deplorable. A poor and crowded population like that of Ireland, is, indeed, a sad thing ; but this hapless state is not owing, as Mr. Malthus thinks, to the potato ; this persecuted root is altogether inno- cent of the mischief ; it has certainly facilitated the increase of population ; but it would also have aided the accumulation of wealth, if wealth could have been accumulated in Ireland. But while Great Britain drank the life-blood of the land, it was in vain that the people of Ireland lived cheaply, and endured privations ; it was in vain, also, that they grew up into a great nation ; their growth was stalk and stem, the tree never flowered. If a family live cheaply and are industrious, they will probably become rich. 80 it is with a nation : if the Irish live chiefly upon potatoes 188 POPULATION. and export their corn, they, ought to have more money, and more of what money could pur- chase ; but the money which they ought to have — that is, the difference between a corn and a potato diet, goes in Ireland to pay tithes, taxes, and rents. The effect, however, would not be so injurious to the country, if so many of the land- owners did not reside abroad, and if the peasant had not two churches, perhaps we ought to say three churches, to pay. Suppose the peasantry lived, as in England, more upon corn, the only consequence would be, that such high rents and taxes could not be paid ; but the population would be very little diminished. The regret is not, that the poor in Ireland live upon potatoes, but that they live upon Httle else, and principally that their cottages are so bad, and their accommodations so wretched. Now their cottages and accommodations may be quite as bad, though they feasted upon corn. The people derive no advantage from their frugality, and the nation but little from its populousness. Mr. Mai thus has found a short way of disposing of the case of Ireland, by throwing all the blame of her calamities upon the potato ; but this writer knew little of Ireland, and appears to have inquired less about it than he did concerning the inhabitants of Kamtschatka and Japan : though the effect of the potato upon population, of POPULATION. 189 which Ireland affords the most perfect, if not the only instance, is a question of very great interest. The potato has not occasioned nor increased the calamities of the Irish ; but these have re- duced this people to a more extensive use of that food than otherwise would have happened. The pressure of the last few years has also brought the potato much more into use amongst the poor in England than formerly j and it will be found difficult for them, perhaps, to rise again to the use of corn. War, famine, and disaster, of various kinds, had brought down the poor of Ireland to the use of the potato, and there they have remained. It is sometimes gravely proposed that we should proscribe the potato as a means of im- proving the condition of the people of Ireland ; but we should rather improve the condition of the people as an effectual means of banishing the potato. Whenever a family emerges out of ex- treme poverty, they relinquish the exclusive use of this root, and betake themselves to better diet. The potato was the refuge and resource of the people of Ireland in the days of their suffer- ings, and it is still of infinite value to them. 190 rOPULATIOlSf. Wholesome, cheap, abundant, and almost ini^ failing, we would not deprive them of this pre- cious root, which gives to the poorest a kind of independence, soothes the cares, and takes awaj some of the most besetting anxieties of life. The potato keeps the heart always open, and pre- serves an ever ready place for hospitality at the peasant's board. It is a strange objection to any food that it is too abundant, and too easily had, and too little liable to failure and accident; yet this appears to be the objection made to the potato, li', then, we knew some grain equally nutritious with wheat, but more expensive, and requiring more labour in the culture, and less abundant and more uncertain in the produce — it would follow, if this reasoning be just, that the patriot and the political economist ought to give it the preference. But the farmer and the labourer would not be likely to be convinced by their arguments ; and the farmer and the labourer would be right. It is not the potato which has too much encouraged population in Ireland : — it is the want of good habits ; the want of self-respect ; the long and grievous oppression from which the people have not yet recovered — which has POPULATION. 191 taught them to Hve hke the beasts of the field, and be content with the meanest accommo- dations, and the scantiest and poorest fare with which Ufe can be sustained. It is not necessary that the peasants be poH- tical economists. They understand very well when the market for labour is overstocked, and why it is so. When it becomes difficult to support a family, population will be checked j and some derangement of the system — some slight shock will take place and be felt; but the progression of population to this point will be certain and uniform, whatever be the food of the people, and the consequences will be inva- riably the same, whether they feed upon corn or potatoes. A potato diet may enable popu- lation to go on a little further before it be checked : this can be the only difference : if the habits of the people be very bad, population may continue its progression to the very verge of wretchedness. Here it must pause ; but it is said, that in the case of a corn diet, there re- mains the resource of potatoes, in the event of unusual distress.* If then the weight of popu- * If we understand this argument, which has become so common, it means, that where corn is the general food, po- tatoes also should be cultivated as a resource, in the event of failure of the crop. When scarcity occurs, it may be 19- POPULATION. lation press down the people to a potato food, what remains, when the accumidating force of the pressure shall shake this pillar of life also to its foundations ? It would be the benevolent wish of Mr. Mal- thus to stay the tide of population, before it rolls its swollen current to certain misery. We fear this is not to be done : and we should fear too, if it were to be accomplished by the rea- sonings of any man, or the measures of any go- vernment, that the attempt would be attended with more mischief and calamity, than now re- sults from occasional overflowings. We are inclined to think, that the war had more to do with the evil of an excessive popula- tion in Ireland, than the potato. The war acted in that country as a bounty upon popula- tion, not in the class of peasantry only, but greatly also in the middle classes. The war acted in various ways 5 the army, the navy, and too late to sow potatoes. As relative to resources, we con- sider the poor of Ireland rather better circumstanced than the poor of England ; the latter, in the event of the failure of the corn crop, have not the resource of potatoes ge- nerally ; the former, in the case of the failure of po- tatoes, have always corn ; they want but the means to purchase it POPULATION. 193 the civil department, were a resource for every family, rich or poor ; and the stimulus which agriculture received, called for additional hands, and gave occupation to all. If the potato only could have produced this population, why had it not before done so ? It is evident, from the state of Ireland, at this moment, that an abun- dance of food is not sufficient for the purposes of population ; there must be employment also : the people of that country have been dying of famine, while the farmers were embarrassed and impoverished with a superabundant harvest. The complaint in Ireland, then, is not of an excessive population ; for there is food enough, and to spare, and the population can never be excessive where this is the case ; the evil is in the want of that employment which the war sup- plied. The war was a thing suited to the taste and habits of the people ; so was agriculture, which that war encouraged : the war also de- stroyed many of the small manufactures of Ire- land. In periods of stagnation the hands enlisted, and when a demand returned, they were not to be collected, and the manufacture was ruined. It is well to understand the principle of po- pulation ; but the human hand is not strong VOL. I. o 194^ POPULATION.' enough, nor is there sufficient wisdom in the human mind, to regulate its progression. We can discern the foulness which comes with the flowing of the ocean, and can mourn over the wreck that is lost upon its wave ; but if we could stay the blowing of the storm, and still the motion of the great element, we know not what mischief we should occasion : nevertheless we may enquire into the causes of the tides, and serve essentially the interests of human happi- ness, in tracing the paths of the winds, and de* veloping the complex operations which give them impulse and direction. When the difficulty of supporting a family is strongly felt, men will not marry ; not because of any refined notions with respect to their duties tow^ards an unborn offspring, but because of the misery in which such an engagement would in- volve themselves. This is, in truth, the moral restraint which operates upon the poor ; but it is very insufficient. The poor in Ireland, parti- cularly the tradesmen, frequently desert their families, and after having two or three children, they go to seek employment, and better their fortunes abroad, in America, or elsewhere ; and this also frequently happens in England, not- withstanding the resource of the poor-laws. Of those deserted families, many pine in wretched- POPULATIOXc 195 iiess, and die of want. To some it happens, that after years of industry abroad, and having earned a Httle independence, they send for their famihes, and are happily reunited. In the history of the poor, if examined into, we should be able to trace the operations of that great law, which limits population, and apportions labour to the demand there is for it, and num- bers the mouths which are to be fed, according to the food provided for them. We would not say with Mr. Malthus, that nature has spread her bounteous table for a few favoured mortals only, and that she consigns her unbidden guests to starvation and despair : nature is not guilty of the cruelty which this revolting imagery charges upon her ; she spreads her table for all ; and it has never been proved that the supply was insuf- ficient. If there are some who riot in wasteful luxury, while thousands perish for want — is na- ture chargeable ? Are they not rather the fan- tastic and cruel institutions of man ; his vices, his ambition, his improvidence, that ought to bear the burden of this blame ? Nature has no favourites ; the sun shines, and the shower de- scends without distinction upon the land of the rich and of the poor ; when the storm blows upon the ocean, it spares not the gilded galiot of the prince more than the boat of the fisherman. o 2 IQG POPULATION. The injustice and oppression which prevail in the world, prevent thousands from enjoying the abundance of good things, w^hich nature appears to have prepared for them. Thousands also perish for want of food, while the earth groans with redundant harvests : nature is not charge- able w^th the moral evil which obtains in the world, and which is the root of all the calamities we observe. We know that misery every where mows down the population, and that this takes place long before there is any urgent necessity ; we know that vast numbers of the human race are every day devoted, that nations may be splendid, and pow^erful, and that individuals may be rich, luxurious, and learned. We cannot tell why these things are ; we can only say they are so. Such is the mysterious economy of our world. W^hy have multitudes, in all ages, bled, and perished in quarrels which they never under- stood, and in w^hich they had no concern ? Why is the majority of our species doomed to incessant toil and privation ? Why is it that accident and disease are never w^eary in their work of destruc- tion ? All these things are far removed from our powers of explanation ; we only know that they are. No nation has, perhaps, ever arrived at that fulness of population w^hich Mr. Mai thus seems POrULATION. 197 to have in view, when he talks of a table where no place can be found for a few additional guests. Long before this crowd could have ac- cumulated, the misery which human institutions and injustice have prepared, would have done the work of death. From these destroyers of the species, emigration in our time offers some escape. In past ages, crowds went forth in search of new settlements, prepared to visit up- on strangers the evils they experienced at home, and resolute to destroy or be destroyed. The spirit of a mild and beneficent religion has shielded our generation from these dreadful in- flictions. Human industry has prepared new resources, and alleviated the miseries that beset our race ; while wisdom and genius have sur- rounded our establishments with much splendour and dignity, and brought into domestic life great comfort and enjoyment. We are no believers in the perfectibility of the species ; but we think that war, when it is no longer waged for the lands and possessions of our neighbours, is likely to become expensive, unprofitable and infrequent ; and that the collected experience of mankind may yet bring our civil institutions to a state of great improvement, so as to diffuse quiet, secu- rity, and much happiness throughout society. o S 198 POPULATION. Whether, as Mr. Malthus thmks, we shall still be closely beset by the evils of an overflowing population — whether human industry shall ex- haust itself in vain expedients for ever upon this difficult subject, we shall not undertake to de- cide. But, at all events, it seems clear that po- pulation will not again, when swollen, like a mountain-torrent, by a long and silent accumu- lation of its waters, carry violence and destruc- tion into the neighbouring lands. It has learned to flow off* by a thousand unseen channels, and finds its level over the whole earth, or stagnates, and is lost in unknown places. Trade, and the arts of life, have opened up these channels hid- den from our ancestors, and commerce has cut innumerable canals upon the surface of the earth, not for the earth's produce only, but for man himself. Colonization goes on at present as extensively, perhaps, as in past ages, but upon a very differ- ent principle. The Gaul and the German could have emigrated as soldiers and as robbers only, and for this purpose must needs have gone out accompanied by numerous hosts of followers. The artizan of our days goes fearlessly to any part of the world, with only the implements of his trade, and the knowledge of his calling. The wants of mankind are every where the same ; POPULATION. 199 the community of arts and knowledge established amongst all civilized people, has gone before the artist, and prepared his path. The community of religion and of civil institutions prevailing amongst all the European nations, their descend- ants and dependencies, has made safe and plea- sant his way, and opened up a field wide enough to take off for many ages the overflowings of the more ancient nations, and to equalize the popu- lation. The governments of the ancient kingdoms of Europe ought to give every facility to emigra- tion. The poor, and particularly the peasantry, cannot emigrate without help. They must live, or perish upon the spot where they have been planted, like the wild shrubs which surround and resemble them. Their utter ignorance and their deplorable poverty takes away the power of loco-motion, and nothing remains, in their extremity, but the power of perpetrating crimes. When they have done this, probably the state wdll come to their aid, and they will be rewarded for their transgression by a free transportation ; a boon which good conduct would have solicited in vain, and which misery and want would have sued for unheeded and scorned. It is to be con- sidered too, that the industrious and unoffending man may be sent beyond sea for a fourth of the o 4 '200 rOPULATlON. cost of tlie convict. Such are our laws and our policy ! But Mr. Malthus asks what are we to do when the resource of emigration shall be cut off, and the whole earth shall be full? Who shall answer this question ? If such a period ever arrive, population, it would seem, would stag- nate more extensively, and a wider and severer misery dry up its streams. It is not, however, for man to sound the depths of time. We know not what resources may be in reserve for our species. We have lately witnessed a rapid and great improvement in all the arts of life ; enough to warrant us in anticipating much more. Possi- bly much improvement may take place in the modes of supporting life and producing food, and as population increases, so may the provision it requires be multiplied. We believe that increasing population brings its difficulties and its miseries ; but w^e think these have been greatly exaggerated. Population is increasing rapidly ; but producers are coming into being as well as consumers. Capital also is necessarily increasing, and the quantity of food raised from the earth, is pretty nearly in proportion to the numbers employed, and capital engaged in the cultivation. li POPULATION. *201 Here we would rest our speculation, content to enjoy the present, and when we look around us and beyond us, auguring nothing evil in the future destiny of mankind. All that presents itself to our eyes, in the distinctness of the pre- sent time, or in the shadowy outlines, which are vouchsafed of hereafter, speak of a glorious and a happy destiny, if sound principles be followed. Even the torch which the genius of Mr. Malthus has lighted, though it throw its melancholy lustre upon the woes of our species, and seems as if it could shed its radiance upon nothing but objects of despair, has added to the mass and brilliancy of those great lights which are yet destined, we doubt not, to guide us to better and happier fortunes. 20^ SUBSISTENCE. 1 OPULATION is considered as capable of almost indefinite progression ; while the supply of food is supposed to be capable of little increase. This discovery has alarmed our age, and disturbed the dreams of our philosophers* ; but it appears to us, that upon this head, we have been too anxious. If we cannot restrain the overflowing of population, it is proved that we possess almost infinite means whereby to increase the supply of food. The ratios which have been assumed to measure the increase of population, and the in- crease of food, is far, in our opinion, from being established. The potato, on its introduction into Europe, increased, at once, six-fold, the food of the people. Was this according to the * It is a singular state of things, that we should be com- plaining, at the same time, of a superabundant population, and superabundant harvests ; grain rotting in our stores, and people starving in our streets! — our philosophers and poli- ticians wailing over the excess of population, and our mer- chants lamenting the want of demand for food! SUBSISTENCE. 20 «:» ratio? Why may not this occur again? — in many instances? New varieties in plants and vegetables are discovered every day, un- looked for, and without any attention. New species of the potato frequently present them- selves unsought, doubling, sometimes quad- rupling, the productiveness of former kinds. In the arts, in mechanics, in science, our age has seen amazing discoveries and improvements. Why not expect, also, that the art of producing food, and of multiplying the products of the earth, may be yet inconceiveably advanced ? Sci- ence has, as yet, hardly turned her attention to this field of experiment ; and there is not one where she might expect to reap more glorious and im- portant harvests. Much has been done in circulating the plants, and seeds, and animals, of different regions of the globe, and making them, by care and cul- ture, to endure other climates. We have, in our gardens, the natives of the tropics, and of the remotest regions of the earth ; and, after a little time, they repay our attention, by adapting their habits to our climate and soil ; but much remains to be done. There are still innumerable plants in our foreign possessions, and in other parts of the world, which, if transplanted to our fields ^Oi SUBSISTENCE. and gardens, would add amazingly to the sup- ply of food. But, perhaps, the widest field of experiment is at our own doors ; we possess a power that is without limit, and the effect of which is beyond calculation, in producing varieties of plants and vegetables. This artificial generation of plants * , but lately attended to, has occasionally produced species, doubling, frequently, the productiveness of the old. If we look back a few hundred years, and consider, even with the little attention which has been given to this subject, what an immense accumulation of means have been provided for the support of life ! if we take into account the potato — growing in every soil, and thriving with every variety of culture ; defying, in its bed of earth, the inclemency of the season, and yielding six times a greater weight and quantity of food than the richest field of corn. If we add to this the great variety of vegetables with which our fields have been but recently supplied, we shall not fail to discern the hand of a bountiful Provi- dence, busily providing for the wants of his nu- merous and increasing family. Is then his hand * See Mr. Knight's Experiments, SUBSISTENCE. Q05 to be stayed by the speculations of the philo- pher, or the calculations of the theorist? In truth, we know not the boundaries of popu- lation, nor the limits of supply ; these belong to the Power wliich made the earth, its inhabitants, and productions, and still upholds and preserves them. It is enough for us to know that he has given us means and understanding, greatly to add to our enjoyments, and improve our con- dition. If we are embarrassed with our numbers, let us look about and see whether the means are not near at hand, by which we may place our- selves at ease and in security ; we have but com- menced our researches in the great art of multi- plying the productions of the earth. To the discovery and propagation of new va- rieties of plants and vegetables, miglit be added greater skill in the cultivation of the soil. The attention of scientific men has been, as yet, but slightly and occasionally turned to this important subject ; few mere farmers can afford the time or the expense necessary for experiment ; and gen- tlemen-farmers are seldom men of sufficient sci- ence. Again, the common race of farmers, in most countries, are too ignorant to profit even by the accidental discoveries which present them- •-^OG SUBSISTENCE. selves in the course of their labours, or the improvements introduced in their neighbour- hood ; they do not comprehend the value of the one, or the principle of the other. If then we would have the earth cultivated to the uttermost ; if we would draw forth from its bounteous bosom its vast and hidden stores, re- served to be the reward, not of unprofitable toil only, but of intelligence and thought, we should begin our labours, where they must ever be com- menced, when great effects are to be produced upon society, w^e should begin by cultivating the minds of the people. If we would cultivate the earth, we must first cultivate the people. These are the instruments we have to work with : if they are rude, and ill-adapted to the work to be performed, can we be surprized that nothing is done, or that it is done badly ? It is impossible that a grossly ignorant people, possessing a de- gree of intelligence hardly raised above that of the brutes they drive, could be fit instruments to obtain from the kindly earth what she is willing to bestow upon skill and intelligence only. We have seen ragged and imbruted ignorance starving, where a little skill and knowledge would SUBSISTENCE. 207 have found abundant means of support. Igno- rance is poverty, and misery, and sloth, and des- titution ; and all these evils visiting first, the unhappy victim, and his miserable family, with all their baleful consequences, come at length to affect the comfort and peace of society, and to spread dearth and wretchedness through- out the land. We are warranted to augur well of the pros- pect before us, and to be satisfied that as popu- lation increases, the supply of food will be augmented in proportion ; when we observe the great advances which have been made, and are making in popular education, something like the power of the steam-engine, in mechanics, has been acquired by the Lancasterian system ; and this new power, accumulated and embodied in the intellect of the nation, will be speedily ap- plied to the cultivation of tlie soil and the pro- duction of new varieties, and a larger mass of food than has yet been acquired from the earth. All power whatsoever is in cultivated mind, and the amount of this power is incalculable. When we compare the feebleness of man's hand with the beauty, and bulk, and grandeur, of his creations, we are lost in amazement at the force and energy of his intelligence j we see it in mechanics, lifting him into a 208 SUBSISTENCE. giant, and enduing him with the strength of angels. When we consider the savage of Australasia, naked and starving, in the midst of the rich and beautiful lands of his country — and passing northwards to the barbarous African, destitute of all the comforts, or conveniences, or chari- ties of life, and compare both with the British or Irish peasantry, we must admit, that low as the latter are in the scale of civilization, yet their superiority is decided, and that superiority is built upon mental cultivation ; but it is a cultivation which admits of infinite increase, and which must secure the comforts and happiness of the people in the direct ratio of its extension. We consider the earth as the raw material of a manufacture, which may be worked up with infinite degrees of skill, and to which many com- binations of powers may be applied, in order to increase its productiveness. A question has been raised between the plough and the spade, which we are not competent to decide. We do not see why the whole earth should not be culti- vated as a garden ; nor why women and children should not be employed more extensively in the cultivation of the soil. In mountainous districts, there are spots amongst the hills of great fertility, 13 SUBSISTENCE. . 209 upon which the plough could not be employed ; iiere the spade is the only instrument of cultiva- tion, and no land yields a richer produce. The repeated application also of the diminutive forces of women and children in the cultivation of the land, and paid for only according to the scale of their effect, would probably be found as efficient as any other. Machinery has, in a great degree, superseded human labour in our manufactories ; and this has been much complained of, as throwing the poor out of employment ; but who can lament that they have been withdrawn from these un- wholesome occupations? Who can regret an event which has cheapened and diffused the con- veniences and elegancies of life, and brought some of the most beautiful manufactures and fabrics within the reach of the poor ? But if, indeed, an injury has been done by lessening, in some degree, the employment of this class of the people, here, probably, is compens- ation. If the process of improvement, which has diminished human labour in manufactures, be about to increase and extend it, in a greater degree, in the wholesome and natural avocations of the field, we shall have nothing to regret. While we are advancing in the wonderous pro- VOL. I. P SIO SUBSISTENCE. cesses, and combinations of the steam-engine and spinning-machine upon the one hand, that will prove a happy arrangement which brings us back on the other, to the primitive simplicity of the spade, in the cultivation of the earth. Sll MR. OWEN'S PLAN. JVlR. Owen says that his plan is new, both to the theorist and the practical man. We think he is mistaken in this. His plan is, in truth, nothing more than the plan of the Jesuits, in the days of their prosperity, with the addition of Women and female children, and, perhaps, of spade cultivation. We say perhaps, for we think the Jesuits were not unacquainted with the ad- vantages of this mode of cultivation. Something like Mr. Owen's plan may be discerned in the wonderful establishments of this society in South America, and in their school establishments, at this day, in various parts of Europe. Of the same nature, also, are the establishments of the Moravians, which have been copied from the model of various societies in the early Christian church. There can be no doubt of the practicability of this system, and of its great advantages, as af- p ^ SIS MR. Owen's plan. fording the means of subsistence to an almost indefinite number of persons. There can be as little doubt as to its power, as a political engine, for effecting the most important changes in society. Mr. Owen has been treated as an enthusiast, and a visionary, we think unjustly ; though it strikes us that there is a degree of mystery in his exposition of his subject, and something like a reluctance to a full development of its machi- nery. But a question distinct from, and more important than its practicability, is that of its effect. To what extent could such a system be carried? — or would it be desirable that it should go ? We can conceive that a hun- dred, or a thousand families may be united as one family ; and by combining small means, and w^orking and feeding together, might pro- cure for each a degree of comfort and abundance which could never be attained by any exertion of their unconnected powers. It is something in the nature of a moral spinning machine, in- vented or revived by Mr. Owen, to counteract, as he tells us, the effects of the mechanical engine. We think with Mr. Owen, that in the present form of society, the division of labour is perhaps 14 MR. OWEN S PLAN. 213 too minute. We doubt whether the work done is always better accomplished upon this principle; but we are sure that the effect upon the living machine is frequently injurious. Ordinarily, in the space of five or seven years, a man learns to build a wall, or to put slates upon the roof of a house, or to saw a piece of timber, or to perform some other small manual or mechanical operation. But in less time, we have seen an ordinary per- son learn to work extremely well as a mason, tyler, carpenter, painter, glazier, sawyer, and some other trades. A man who can do this not only increases his own powers and intelligence, but augments greatly his usefulness and re- sources. The linen weavers in the north of Ireland are, also, almost all farmers. Their manufacture is not less beautiful and perfect, because they can handle the plough and the spade, and preserve their health and cheerfulness in the delightful occupations connected with the cultivation of the soil. Much of the distress we have observed in the lower classes of society, arises from their inapti- tude to turn themselves, when occasion requires, from one pursuit to another. It would tend greatly to improve their condition, if the culti- p 3 SI 4 MR. o wen's plan. vation of the ground were combined much more extensively than at present with the occupations of the tradesman and artisan. This would not only make the man a more intelligent and re- spectable being, but would give him also some- thing to lean against, and prevent him from fall- ing into that utter destitution which is now the lot of the tradesman unemployed for a season. Mr. Owen's plan combines the advantages of agriculture and manufactures : but it combines more. It supplies the economy of a common kitchen and table for multitudes of families, — ^ a common system of education for the children, a community of property if desired, — and over all these there is to be placed a government, of what sort is not clearly defined, which is to be the controlling and binding principle of the grand machine. We have said that, in our opinion, Mr. Owen's plan is practicable — but only to a limited extent. We think it may be usefully employed as a partial and occasional relief; and we believe that it involves principles of the highest utility and importance, and capable of being applied to some extent, with great advantage. But Mr. Owen seems to contemplate a very general, if not universal, application of his MR. Owen's plan. 215 system. We doubt if this would be desirable. We are sure it would not be practicable. A great number of such powerful machines in mo- tion would have an effect, of whatsoever kind, that would be irresistible. They would change, for a while, the face of society; and if they were to fall into disorder or crumble, by any fatality, into ruin, such an event would be attended with the most fatal consequences. Nothing is more difficult than to bring a number of persons to act together for a common purpose ; the evil passions of human nature oppose themselves to every such association ; they act as a solvent, so powerful, as to bring to certain and speedy dissolution every aggregate body composed of human elements. In the whole history of the world, no contrivance of human ingenuity for working with effect, and for any considerable time, a compound human machine has ever succeeded, where the materials or members were free agents. The destroying influence of the selfishness and wickedness of mankind on human association, has, Mr. Owen conceives, been counteracted and overcome in some cases, and he instances the army : this is true. So it was also, in the case of the Jesuits, in that of the early Christians ; in p 4 ^16 MR. owen's plan. the instances of monks, nuns, Moravians, and some others ; and the same principle extends to the case of private families. In all these cases, and in all cases that ever have been of this kind, there has existed a power of such immense and irresistible force, as effec- tually to check the evil passions of human nature ; despotic power can accomplish this. The army is governed by a regulated despotism, and could be kept together by no other means. The Jesuits built their society upon a similar foundation ; their general was a despot ; the abbots and superiours of convents and monastic orders wield also a despotic authority; despotism is the universal binding principle of these asso- ciations. There is also another principle which has kept men together, and while it continued to exist, supplied the place of despotic authority — this principle is religious zeal, or enthusiasm ; zeal of any other kind would not keep men to- gether in close association ; for any other kind of zeal would not purify the heart, or controul its depravities with sufficient power ; and, how- ever warm it might be, it would still be con- sistent in its nature, with that selfishness which unties and destroys all the finer bonds of society. MR. Owen's plan. 217 Religious zeal, however, is quite adequate to accomplish this great purpose, of uniting toge- ther the hearts, and minds, and hands of men, in a close, and happy, and powerful connection ; if there be selfishness in religious feeling, as has sometimes been contended, it has reference to another and remote scene ; it becomes purified by the distance of its object, and changes its nature and character in the grandeur and subli- mity of its hopes. But the fervour of religious feeling will cool : and when the cold air of human selfism chills it, it is liable to sudden contraction, and the ma- terial, to which it gave consistency and effect, is rent asunder and broken into a thousand pieces. Many societies that commenced in zeal, were soon obliged to have recourse to despotic autho- rity, in order to preserve their existence. How does Mr. Owen propose to supply, in his establishments, the want of despotic power, or religious zeal ? Some provision of this kind he has but ill-defined and ill-explained, in what he calls, " The science of the influence of circum- stances in education." We are well aware how mighty the influence of circumstances is in form- ing the character ; it is not precept, nor what is called education, nor yet example, though more 218 MR. owen's plan. powerful than all, that moulds the character and gives it that shape which is to remain for ever. But they are the events of life, and all the accidents of good and evil which meet us in our career through this mysterious existence, which at length chisel out, as it were, from the block, the grim, or beautiful figure, as the stone is rolled by some invisible hand upon its path of destiny. But these circumstances, though they give the form, do not furnish the material ; the stone is granite, or sandstone, or soft clay, or Parian marble ; whether the figure be well or ill wrought out, nothing can alter the substance, but the power who created it ; no kind of training can change the heart ; and while that remains evil, no social union can endure. Religion changes the heart ; despotic power subdues it ; and one or other of these is necessary, whatsoever may be the circumstances, or the training of the indi- vidual. We have seen, in many voluntary societies, even of highly cultivated persons, that the spirit of party, and jealousy, and dissension, invariably shook its wings over the assembly, the moment it was convened, and took its seat with full autho- rity, speedily to dissolve the association. MR. Owen's plax. 219 We have known an attempt to be made under very high patronage *, to estabhsh a Protestant female voluntary association, somewhat in the nature of a nunnery, but unfettered by religious obligation. Nothing could be more useful, or in appearance, more likely to succeed, when we consider the great number of females without a home, or settlement, or family, and with small incomes, who have, as it were, been thrown loose upon the surface of society, and left to float alone, unregarded or despised, while all who were dear to them, or who were once wont to look upon them with an eye of kindness, have sunk into the tide of time, or perhaps, making them still more desolate, have passed them in the cur- rent, engaged in some new vortex, and connected with other associations, and have only noticed them with a passing and cold recognition, as almost forgotten encumbrances, shaken off long since from their intimacy. To such as these, and they are a numerous class, it was thought the proposed plan would have been very acceptable: and when it was considered, that it would combine the advan- tages of society and economy — for the young, a refuge ; for the old, a retreat ; — placing at * The late amiable Princess Charlotte. i220 MR. Owen's plan. once, by the combination of small incomes, comforts and even luxuries within the reach of many, which, when scattered and isolated in society, it were impossible for them to obtain ; the projectors could not doubt of success — but they did not succeed. The plan went on feebly, — languished, and failed. Why ? because it had no foundation ; it rested upon no solid prin- ciple. There was neither despotic power, nor religious zeal to form its basis, and the edifice could not be raised into any solidity. Religion, even where it does not enter into the motives of the recluse who renounces the world, yet spreads an imposing gracefulness and solemn dignity over the sacrifice, and over the establishment where it is made ; which relieve from the meanness and vulgarity of common motives, and soothe the pride, and heal the wounded feelings of the victim. Over a Protes- tant establishment of this kind, there is spread too much of the air of an alms-house, and the real motive of the association is too strongly and too glaringly exhibited. The ordinary wants and necessities of life require to be kept out of view, or to be relieved with the colouring of some high or holy interest. When the wounded feelings of the Catholic female take refuge in the convent ; or when loneliness or neglect warn MR. OWEN*S PLAN. 2^1 her to fly from a scene where she is no longer any thhig, and which for her has lost all its freshness and beauty ; we do not say that her devotion is not real ; for from the deep fissures of the heart comes frequently the warm tide of true devotion, with agony. In sorrow and de- sertion, the soul turns to the father who never forsakes his child, and to the friend whose bosom is ever full of consolation. The devotion may be real, but though it were not, yet the show and solemnity of the scene, and the profession, the grandeur of a sacrifice that is final and for ever, cannot fail to have its full effect, and to cover the motive, however mean or unworthy, with a degree of importance and splendour. So much is this the case, that it is seldom difficult to found a Catholic nunnery ; but no attempt has yet succeeded to estabUsh a Pro- testant asylum of this nature. In the one case, the pride of life is soothed even in its sufferings ; in the other, it is wounded even in the accommo- dations prepared for it ; and it is human nature to prefer suffering and sacrifice to indulgence and disgrace. Mr. Owen's plan is opposed to the habits and feelings of mankind. We see this in the constant sphtting of famihes when they become numerous *222 MR, OWEN*S PLAN. and the members grow up to independency ; even though poor, and fully aware of the eco- nomical advantages of a common table and resi- dence : so strong is the principle which scatters mankind into the little communities of families, and makes even for these absolute power abso- lutely essential. To this principle Mr. Owen's plan might be left. We should not be sorry to see the system tried upon a small scale. To such an extent it would, perhaps, be useful ; but we think there need be entertained no apprehension that it could be very extensively realized. We say apprehension, for we should not like to see the infinite and irregular forms of society — its wildness, its luxuriance, its unsightliness and barrenness, if you will, cut down, and pared, and trimmed, and changed into the straight lines and measured angles, and geometrical order, and insipidity of Mr. Owen's project. We admit the evils which beset society in its present form — they are of the most afflicting magnitude. But we doubt whether we could escape from them altogether, though we were to put the whole human race into alms-houses, without any other occupation than to produce food, and to consume it, and to superintend its consump- tion. MR. owen's plan* SS3 We love, in society, as in nature, its untram- melled aspect — its irregularity — sometimes beautiful, sometimes sublime — though we en- joy both the beautiful and the sublime, at the cost of much that is rugged, desolate, and barren. We love the grandeur of the human intellect — its wildest shoots towering and spreading with a richness, and profusion, and waste of beauty, and power, which would be inconsistent with the rules and plans of any projector ; and it is our consolation, that nature in society, as in her great operations on the sur- face of the globe, will submit herself but par- tially to the leading of the human intellect. How many heads have ached, and laboured to controul her, and have succeeded, perhaps, or thought they succeeded, for a moment, and again she broke with ease the feeble withes which human wis- dom had prepared, and resumed her original wildness. It is permitted to man to do a little — he is but an agent. When he would do more than his task, he exhibits his feebleness and folly; his work perishes ; but the plan of Providence will endure for ever. S0' MANUFACTURES. ^ o nation can attain to a high degree of pros- perity without manufactures ; these have been the broad foundations of England's greatness. The power of the nations of antiquity had other and less solid foundations ; and when the modern Caesar thought to lay the basis of his empire with similar materials, he mistook the age of the world in which he lived. These materials were no longer to be had ; they were like, but not the same ; the eye of the selfish enthusiast was de- ceived, and as he mounted the high and towering throne, which so many extraordinary circumstances had concurred to raise, it crumbled into dust. There was not, in the days of antiquity, any thing like public opinion, as we now understand it; it is a new power, which has started from the brain of civilization, armed at all points for the protection of the weak, and for redressing the wrongs of humanity. Military and agricul- MANUFACTURES. 225 tural nations admit no high degree of civiliza- tion ; the wealth which is acquired by war, weakens; that whicli commerce accumulates, strengthens a people ; the one is an intoxicating beverage, the other a nutricious aliment. Commerce, in all its various walks, is peaceful, sober, and considerate ; it carries with it also a sense and principle of justice, without which it could not exist; it establishes intercourse, it creates independence ; it is the nurse of freedom, it cultivates the fine arts ; it introduces literature and luxury; not the servile literature of a corrupt court, nor the debilitating luxury of pampered vassals, but that which befits the taste and enjoyments of bold and polished minds. Of all the pursuits of trade, manufactures are those which strengthen most the foundations of a nation's welfare. The trade of foreign commerce fills the purse of the Exchequer, and enriches, with great gains, a few fortunate hands, and lifts them into places of honour ; but ma- nufacture takes its way through an extensive neighbourhood ; puts a little money into each man's hand ; sees that his cottage is cleanly and commodious, and gives the village its air of smiling comfort and contentment. VOL. I. Q 226 MANUFACTURES. Probity is of the essence of manufacture ; without this it cannot subsist. It requires also intelHgence to a certain extent, and it creates generally more than it requires. Intelligence is produced by the collision of men's minds in close intercourse. These are the advantages of manufacture, — competence, probity, intelligence, laid solidly and in order at the basis of society; greater advantages cannot be, for it is here that nations are weak and vulnerable, when they have at their roots, poverty, profligacy, and ignorance. We are aware of the physical and moral ob- jections which lie to certain manufactures. But we are of opinion, that those apply rather to the mode in which these are conducted ; and that, if differently managed, they could easily be put out of the way. They form, in fact, no solid objection. Neither are we disposed to place ex- travagantly high the probity, intelligence, and independence created by manufactures. Nothing, we fear, very spotless or sublime in moral purity can be produced with the materials which hu- manity furnishes. With these we are compelled to work ; and build as we may, we must expect to find much that is unsightly and unsound. Trade has MANUFACTURES. ^^7 its mysteries of fraud as of art. But in this it is merely upon a level with all other human pursuits, not excepting that which has been the subject of so much praise and poetry— Agri- culture. Tiie tiller of the earth, and the tender of flocks and herds, are simple and artless cha- racters in verse only. We are inclined to think there is quite as much honesty in other modes of life. Honesty is much like other things, it will be found where there is a regular demand for it ; where it brings a price in proportion to its value and usefulness. Manufactures furnish the market, the demand, and the price for this pre- cious commodity ; and in this way contribute greatly to the formation of a solid and trust- worthy character in the people of England. It may be asked, is not honesty of as much value in agriculture ? We tliink not ; and at all events, the wide extent of the field prevents that know- ledge and competition of character which are to be found only in the narrow circle of a crowded market. Ireland has but one manufacture of any im- portance. This is confined to the northern pro- vince of the island, and here indeed its effects upon human happiness, civilization, competency, Q S 228 MANUFACTURES. and character, are as beneficial, as in the most favoured and flourishing parts of Great Britain. But as the Hnen weavers of Ulster differ from the people of the other provinces not only in this respect, but generally also in religion, habits, and blood, — our business, at present, is with those who form the bulk of the nation. In the southern division of the island, manu- factures have never taken root, though many attempts have been made to plant them there. They have, in almost every case, withered and died. Not only was this the fate of every new manufacture which was introduced ; but even the old ones which were brought in by the Eng- lish settlers, and for a period flourished in some of the chief towns, were at length affected by the blight which seems to pervade this region. Many have perished in the course of the last twenty years, and but very few still maintain an anxious and struggling existence. During all this period, the linen manufacture of the north has been constantly extending and improving, and it is now vigorous and flourishing. It must be useful to inquire into the secret sources of these oppo- site results. The springs of much that fertiUzes or deso- lates the world, lie deep and distant from the MANUFACTURES. 2^9 positions we would assign them. It is obvious, however, that the union destroyed all the weak and feeble manufactures of the country; all those which required the shelter of the walls of Parlia- ment, and the constant superintendence of a close and anxious concern. The union stripped them of all this, and exposed them suddenly to the visitation of a rude and withering competition with the manufactures of England ; or to what was quite as bad, a competition impending and in view. The union also, by increasing the number of absentees, withdrew the consumer, and left the fruit of industry to rot upon the ground. We know it has been said, it were better these sickly manufactures should perish. The political economist will lead us to purchase where we can, best and cheapest ; and the British po- litician will advise that the people apply them- selves to agriculture, that Ireland may be ready to furnish the materials of war, and to supply the current of life as it wastes itself in the great cities of the empire, while England is engaged in the accumulation of wealth, and the pursuits of industry. This is specious in theory, but it will be found dangerous in practice. Q 3 SSO MANUFACTURES. The destruction of the small manufactures of the South has greatly diminished the comforts and resources of the people. They were left to rest upon agriculture alone, and this solitary staff has broken under them ; and this immense and fierce population have sunk into an abyss of poverty where they are at once objects of pity in their struggles, and of deep and serious apprehension. Those who would consign this numerous people to ignorance and agriculture, should weigh well the consequences. Trade softens and civilizes the people, lays up store for the evil day, and is full of resources. The peasant who can nei- ther understand nor reason upon the causes of his sufferings, has no resource but the pike. We have heard it said, that manufactures do not thrive under the shade of the Papal crosier ; and we think that there is, generally, some truth in this observation. Casting a rapid glance over the various countries of Europe, we must perceive, that manufacturing industry has its fullest and freest current in Protestant lands ; — and again, in these lands, this current is observed to be the richest and most abundant in the regions of dissent. We account for this upon the principle that all religious establishments, in a greater or less degree, fetter the spirit of man- kind. MANUFACTURES. ^31 The machinery of an estabHshment seems to have the effect of some cumbrous interposition between God and his creature ; which, when re- moved, the latter acquires from his near approach to the throne of Hght and the fountain of in- spiration, a boldness and decision of mind, and freedom of thought, and activity of habit, which, spreading from the centre of the soul, and radi- ating from the " horns of his face," overflows upon all the concerns of life ; and, while he shakes off the trammels of human authority, raises his character, improves his condition, — sheds around him tlie light of free enquiry, the strength of an emancipated intellect, and the industry of one accountable for his talents. The spirit of the Catholic church recommend- ed a life of contemplation and retirement ; and this degenerated too frequently into a life of sloth and uselessness. This church assumed a high authority over the minds of men, and called for their unquestioning submission. It exorcised the busy, and often troublesome, and often wild and wandering spirit of enquiry, as a demon trou- bling the peace of the world ; and the mind from which the spirit departed, was paralysed in all its powers. Q 4 £32 MANUFACTURES. We cannot bind up one of the limbs of the mind, and fix it with an eternal ligature, and yet preserve to the mental system all its activity and force. And when this overwhelming power is exerted upon, by far the most important func- tion of the human being — enquiry concerning his eternal interests — when this principal mem- ber of the mind is subjected to such a process, and is at length, perhaps, miserably enfeebled or utterly destroyed, it is no wonder if the wounded spirit lose its energy. There is a sympathy in mind as in matter ; a capacity to be invigorated and refreshed by companionship and co-operation, and to suffer and be subdued, in kindred faculties. Nature delights in order ; but she abhors uni- formity. There is in all her works an infinite diversity ; a mixture, a contrast, an opposition. All space, all mind, all matter abound, and are full of a variety that is beyond thought, passing all imagination ; a variety clothed in beauty, sublimity, and loveliness. Though with the genius of Newton we were to tread the paths of the stars, and follow the comets in their courses ; — though with the zeal of Linnaeus we were to traverse the solid globe, collecting the green plants and the flowers of all regions ; — returning from our 16 MANUFACTURES. ^2oS labours, we should be convinced that we had seen but a little part of the great scheme of creation, and that little mocking the grasp of our systems : which enable us indeed to survey nature's boundless field without confusion of mind, and to discern for a little space some of her most obvious paths ; but bring us still to this conviction, that she rejoices in a variety which must ever exercise, and for ever foil oiu: faculties.. But the variety of mind surpasses all variety of matter. God is spirit, and in this his own peculiar region of intellectual being, he has poured forth the wonders of his power. In the external creation, there are substances which are alike; — there are whole classes of things in which no differences are discernible ; but our re- searches from Adam to this hour, present us not with two minds which do not differ ; such wondrous variety pervades the invisible world. This grand display of inexhaustible power is connected with all the sources of our happiness, and supplies the fountains of all our enjoyments. Shall we be startled then by every diversity of opinion? When in chemistry, in botany, or astronomy, with the united labour, and the col- lected lights of the world, we have laid down the S34 MANUFACTURES, canons of science, and fixed the infallible rule which is to guide our speculations and to stay our changeful opinion, shall we inveigh against nature, and accuse Providence if his bounteous hand open up new springs of knowledge, and he conduct our researches where undiscovered plants perplex our classifications, and attest the extent of his kingdom, or some rushing comet or un- known star call us to adore his power? Our Uttle system, perhaps, totters to its base ; we like not to see the ruins of those things which we have built up in the confidence of wisdom and knowledge ; we shrink from the labour of un- learning, and the confession of ignorance ; yet every year brings us some task of this nature, and at length we begin to learn that this is in- deed the whole business of life. We should do more wisely to content ourselves with some few, simple and established truths, and, secure of these, leave to the Creator to build his own systems. He has left to us the wide field of speculation : earth and heaven are spread before us, and nothing forbids our researches ; but when we would set bounds to thought and opinion, and be wise " beyond what is written,'* we are not aware of the extent of the mischief we do. We have not a thought, perliaps, be- yond supporting the interests of the party or MANUFACTURES. ^2S5 opinion to which we are attached, while we are contributing to dry up the springs of national wealth, and are consigning our country to po- verty and weakness. An increased industry followed the free spirit of the Reformation throughout Europe. It was conspicuous in Holland, France, and England ; and when the revocation of the Edict of Nantz drove the French protestants from their country, they carried with them their skill in manufac- tures, to enrich the rival nation. France lost her most valuable citizens ; she spilled, in very wantonness, and with her own hand, the best blood in her veins. She continued from that hour feeble and feverish, until the delirium of the Revolution inflicted a just punishment, and vindicated the rights of mankind. England, pre-eminent in arts, philosophy, and arms, dates her most glorious career from the period of the Reformation. We are not con- tending for the theology of any sect of Chris- tians, but we contend for the sacred right of free opinion, which was the principle of the Re- formation, and from which, as from a great fountain, suddenly opened in the wilderness of the world by the hand of God, gushed innu- merable streams of happiness. The spirit of 236 MANUFACTURES. free enquiry, which at first occupied itself exclu- sively with topics of religion, after a while, turned its attention to other things — all nature was explored ; the philosophy of mind and mat- ter was subjected to close examination ; and arts and manufactures, in their turn, shared the be- nign influence of fi'eedom. But though the Church of England is founded upon freedom of opinion, there is a greater freedom still. The dissenters from this establish- ment, escaped from the restraints of its authority, are found to be the most numerous and indus- trious class amongst the manufacturers of Eng- land ; as if a still greater freedom of mind in religious speculation, than the establishment en- courages, were friendly to a more complete de- velopment of the active and industrious powers of mankind. The linen- weavers of the north of Ireland are chiefly Dissenters ; but if the free spirit of their faith was an advantage, it was not the only one they possessed : they were the favoured de- scendants of the favoured colonists of James ; the hand of oppression was not upon them. In proportion as it was laid heavily upon their coun- trymen of the south, it was found necessary to slacken the rein of government upon the neck of MANUFACTURES. 237 Ulster. The people of the north were treated with particular lenity ; they enjoyed the utmost freedom in a political as w^ell as in a religious sense. Under circumstances so favourable, it was natural that their prosperity should take deep root and spread its branches widely ; their trade had the advantage of growing up gradu- ally, from small beginnings ; it nourished as it grew the spirit of independence, which had cherished its increase ; and it created for itself that probity, industry, and capital, which were necessary for its safety and advancement. After the civil wars, there were the seeds of a few manufactures among the Protestant co- lonists of the south. These had not flourished, for the governing party in Ireland were them- selves not free ; it is the condition of des- potism to be a slave. The Ottoman, whose bow-string is upon the necks of so many pachas, is himself in more peril than the least of his slaves ; and when the Protestants of Ireland would rule in the spirit of the east, they too were compelled to submit to bondage ; their trade was in chains. When in 1782 they burst these bonds, and were themselves free, it followed of necessity, that they should lighten the fetters of their cap- !^SS MANUFACTURES. tive ; judgment had been done upon him ; chams were not necessary for hmi whom ignorance and poverty held in double thraldom : he was restored to some of the most material of his civil rights ; the slave and his master were both free, and the nation advanced, witli a surprising rapidity, to the utmost limit of that prosperity which the con- stitution of eighty-two and the enactments of ninety-three* were calculated to permit. The Union and the war changed every thing ; the war afforded a disproportioned encourage- ment to agriculture ; the Union destroyed the feeble manufactures of the south. They came into competition with the manufactures of Eng- land, at a time when that country was just set- ting out upon her great career of conquest over the industry of the world. After a few years, all the nations were her tributaries, and Ireland was the lowliest of her slaves. As she went along, triumphing and subduing the feeble efforts of her rivals, and spite of the rage and the arms of her enemy, pushing her victories into the heart of his capital, and making his empire her own ; subject to the dominion of her trade, and the un- * The act of 1793 restored to the Roman Catholics the elective franchise, or the right of voting for members of parHament ; and permitted them to take leases, and acquire property in land. MANUFACTURES. S39 conquerable skill of her manufactures ; every conquest she made secured another, and laid open the way for triumphs yet to come. Ireland could offer no resistance to a power which had subdued the world ; England had reaped the harvest of the world's wealth, and laid it up in store. With this she overwhelmed every com- petitor. Could the cheapness of labour, or any other accidental circumstance, for a moment stay her course ? She met it by long credit to the trader, which her overflowing capital enabled her to give, and his necessities made him ready to take ; if this were not enough, she lowered her price, and was content to lose, for a season, until the rival manufacture had perished in the prison she had prepared for it; and then she went forth to enjoy the conquest she had achieved. There was, beside this, a confidence in the honesty with which British manufactures were made up, which was seldom abused, for the rich have few temptations to petty fraud, and the in- telligent tradesman knows the value of character ; and there was a certainty of being, at all times, furnished with a supply from a capital so abun- dant, and habits of regularity so long formed. With such arms as these, the English manufac- ture met and subdued the Irish in the foreign ^40 MANUFACTURES. market ; but this was not all ; the successful ma- nufacture soon carried the war into the enemy's country, and the Irish was defeated and destroyed upon its own soil — in its own home and citadel. The working manufacturers in Ireland had neither the steadiness, nor, generally, the inte- grity to be found among the same class in Eng- land. It was often a contest of skill between the master and the journeyman who should be most successful in plunder or prevention, and the wit of the workman was mostly too sharp for his em- ployer ; this was occasioned by the lamentable want of moral and religious education amongst the poor, and the influence of the most perni- cious habits. The manufacture was not always made up with undeviating good faith ; and orders frequently could not be supplied in consequence of the irregular habits of the workmen, and the want of that capital which would have enabled the manufacturer to have a large stock on hand. In England, the large capitalist could not only bribe his customer with long credit, but he could also, at all times, answer his demand ; his wealth enabled him to fill his warehouse with a store of goods, and to keep his workmen in employment when the demand slackened. But here, also, tlie poor-laws, which are so much, and, in some MANUFACTURES. QH respects, so justly reprobated, came to his aid. The poor-laws are the corner-stone of England's manufacturing greatness. We have known, in Ireland, where a tempo- rary stagnation of trade has occasioned the ruin of a valuable manufacture : the machine was at a stand for a while, and the capital of the master was not equal to the employment of his work- men, for a period, without return ; they were discharged, and soon dispersed : some, perhaps, went as soldiers — some, in search of employ- ment in other parts of the country, or in distant parts of the world ; and when the tide of trade began again to fill its empty channels, and orders came from abroad, and the manufacturer looked about for his workmen, they were gone : the orders either could not be executed, or not fully ; and they were sent, next time, where the supply was certain : the tide of trade ebbed ; and its rich and refreshing waters flowed thereafter in foreign lands. In such cases as this, the poor-laws sustain the manufactures of England, and keep those hands together, which would otherwise be dispersed : the master-manufacturer, however wealthy, is not always equal to the exigencies of the times : there are seasons when he must leave his work- VOL. I. K ^4^ MANUFACTURES. men to their fate ; and supposing the utmost hu- manity, united with the soundest views of poHcy and interest, to be found among these men, still it is not well to leave so great a w^eight of na- tional prosperity to rest upon the opinions, or feelings, or caprice of individuals. The want of something like the poor-laws has concurred to destroy the manufactures of Ireland. It may be said, that there are no poor-laws in Scotland ; and yet the manufactures of that country are floui'ishing : true ; but there are parochial regu- lations, which supply their place, and answer the same end : the poor are not left utterly destitute in seasons of distress. We have insisted, elsewhere, upon the urgent necessity of educating the people of Ireland : thus only can we entertain a hope that manufac- tures may yet spring up in that impoverished country. We must lay a foundation of probity and sobriety,- which ignorance or superstition can never supply. It will be said, what avails your education in a country so destitute of capi- tal ? Can education supply capital ? We think, in time, it would. If we have dwelt upon the ruined manufactures of the South, we shall now advert to a considerable and very flourishing one — the manufacture of ardent spirits. Did want of capital retard the progress, or prevent 3IANUFACTURES. 243 the prosperity of the great distilleries of the South ? No. Every thing was favourable to the growth of this manufacture : the verv dissoluteness of the people — the very viilanies of the tradesman — all the habits and propensities, which would have choked and destroyed any other manufacture, nourished and promoted this. Accordingly, under all the weicrht and discourairements of a burden- some and unsteady excise, this manufacture has attained a height of towering prosperity, and created for itself a plenteous and splendid capital; and now, in the day of its triumph, it feeds and fosters those vices from which it drew its early aliment. It affords,, however, a proof, if proof were w^anting, that hardly any discouragements will put down a manuflicture to which the habits of the people are adapted ; and we may add, that, without suitable habits, the most favourable cir- cumstances will not avail. Without native manufacture, there can be no national wealth, no comfort, competency, or in- dependence among the people. Tlie import of foreign merchandise,- and the export of the rude produce of the land, is a process by which compar- atively nothing is accumulated. Accordingly, in the south of Ireland, there is less capital distri- R 2 '244 MANUFACTURES. buted ainong the middling classes of the people now, than existed fifty years ago, notwithstand- ing, that all this time this species of trade has been carried on there to a very large extent. The best customer w^hich the farmer can have is the manufactnrer ; the worst, the exporting jnerchant. It is thought to be the advantage of Ireland that she exports her corn ; and the sum- mit of her felicity, tliat she possesses a privilege in the market of England. How, then, is it the glory of the sister island that she is an importer ? Was not Rome too an importer in the days of her greatness? Possibly, Great Britain may be made to grow^ a little more corn ; and more thrifti- ness might save her somewhat of the sums she sends abroad for a supply j but she regards it not. Like a wealthy and industrious housekeeper^ w hose family are all busily employed in pursuits of great profit and importance, she does not re- gard the crumbs that fall from her tjable, nor take account of the petty expenses of ^ler hospitable board. Better would it be for Irel^d, if she ex- ported less, or were even compelled to go into the foreign market, to purchase bread for a po- pulation engaged in profitable manufactures. Without her manufactures, England would not be the great nation she is at this day : rich, as wdth MANUFACTURES. 24<5 the accumulations of ages ; producing, on every emergency, stores of inexhaustible wealth, as if laid up in the long days — the forgotten centuries of past prosperity. Her agriculture, and her raw material of wool and iron, would not have built up those princely fortunes ; and, still less, would they have enriched every corner of the land with those various incomes, which descending from the heights of luxury through every possible gradation of rank, spread over this favoured country a depth of solid and well-ordered pros- perity, which the world, in no other instance, ever witnessed. Fortunes like these, the peace- ful and valued acquisitions of frugality, are to be preserved only by the same thoughtful and considerate spirit by which they were first ac- quired. Hence, that grave and manly character which wealth has not corrupted. Hopeless poverty is not less profligate than boundless wealth ; but, in England, there is no poverty utterly destitute, nor wealth that is not touched and approached on all sides by fortunes as extensive, or independence as secure. And to what is this due but to her manufactures? Trade builds up a multitude of competent for- tunes : agriculture, in her natural course, settles into extensive lordships, and constitutes wide domains : left to herself, the great proprietor R 3 246 MANUFACTURES. and the timid vassal are the only community she forms : pride and baseness are the harvests of her fields. Possibly, the manufacturing system may have been carried to excess in Enoland. We should not desire to see trade encroaching too much upon agriculture in Ireland, if, indeed, this could be ; but it is not to be apprehended. In the present state of the case, our fears come from the ignorance and poverty of the people, and from their want of employment. But industry will not sit down, and put her complex machinery in motion in a land of igno- rance and dissension, and w^here partial law^s re- strain the energies of ambition. She must dwell in peace, and in security, and be free as the mountain air. Trade or commerce may have a hectic existence even under the suspended cimeter of the Turk ; but the brightest climes of the earth cannot invite manufacturing industry to construct her curious nest under the shade of ignorance and barbarism. APPENDIX. R 4 I APPENDIX. NATIONAL CHARACTER. Page 16. Moore, When we speak of our lyric poet as *' Master of the sweetest and only minstrelsy," we have not overlooked the claims of Campbell and Burns. But the former has only touched the lyre occasionally. The " Exile of Erin" spoke the hand of a master, second to none. It was a strain of rich, pathetic, and powerful melody, such as has seldom been equalled ; displaying all that is precious in poetry, — a delightful fancy, and a feeling heart. We have only to lament that this fine genius has wandered away from the lyre he touched so sweetly. Burns has ceased " to mourn The miseries of man." The genius of Burns was uncultivated : it was like the " Mountain Daisy," as simple, as natural, and as sweet That of Moore is like the wild and luxurious roses of his own " Vale of Ovoca." Scott has wandered in many a land of enchantment ; and the gay and glorious chaplets he has gathered do not forbid us to place the crown of the " Minstrel" on the head of Moore. 250 APPENDIX. POLICY OF ENGLAND. Page 39- C7'onm>ell. v^ROMWELL was at one time a saint in England : he is a saint in Ireland to this day — the patron saint and tutelary spirit of the loyal protestant ascendency. He is toasted under a pet name, more frequently than the *'' glcnious memory ;^^ and his portrait is to be found in many a chamber where William's never hung. Numer- ous families in Ireland show watches, rings, and trinkets of various kinds, said to be gifts made by Cromwell to their ancestors. We can well account for this attach- ment to the usurper ; but it appears to us to mix oddly with the extravagant professions of loyalty made by the same persons. The truth is, however, that the ascendency-men worship the memory of this sanguinary and saintly tyrant, because they owe their possessions to his great abilities and good fortune. Their loyalty has reference also to certain mono- polies which they have, or deem that they have, prescrip- tive right to enjoy — a monopoly of power and privileges ; and a monopoly of place, office, and emolument. Loy- alty, in the sense in which it is understood by some of these men, is not attachment to the throne or the prince, or respect for the constitution : about all this they are generally very indifferent. WTiat they vmderstand by loyalty, is nothing more than a steady adherence to the monopoly system. According to this rule, the king's ministers frequently incur the imputation of disloyalty ; APPENDIX. 251 and kings themselves, when they would restrain the fiery zeal of the descendants of Cromwell's saints, have been charged with disloi/alti/. Like their godly ances- tors, these men are oreatlv attached to the efood thinos of this world, and have little regard for crowns or princes, except so far as the security of their Jieshly en- joyments is concerned. Cromwell was a different man in England, and in Ireland. Like many other English statesmen, he had a different system for the one country, and for the other. In Ireland, he threw off his fooPs coat of sanctity and pre- tence, and was the bold and clever ruffian that nature had made him. In England, which was the scene of his ambition and hypocrisy, we doubt not that he was sincerely desirous to promote the welfare of the people, and the glory of the nation. His fame and his power were closely connected with these objects. In Ireland, conquest was his only object. Neither cant, nor scrip- ture, were of any avail with the popish people he had to deal with. Putting aside, therefore, the arm of the spirit, he made vigorous use of the arm of the flesh. There is strong reason to believe, that O'Neil, a general -of talents not inferior to his own, who com- manded the Irish ai*my, was removed by poison. Whe- ther Cromwell was guilty of this, is not known ; but we think it not unlikely. His situation was' critical. If O'Neil had lived, Cromwell could not have conquered : that general would not have given battle, and could not have been forced to do so. Cromwell's army was already sick, disheartened, and wasting awa}'. O'Neil was marching slowly and cautiously towards him, with a view- to harass and wear liim out. Cromwell knew well, that he had to deal with a man who understood the temper 252 . APPENDIX. and quality of the army he had to oppose, as well as that he had to command, and who had been disciplined, himself, in the long wars of the continent. O'Neil died suddenly on the march ; and Cromwell was relieved from all his embarrassments. His subsequent conduct is sufficient proof of what crimes he could be guilty. His career in Ireland was one continued course of out- rages, murder, and robbery. He slaughtered in cold blood the disarmed soldiers who had dared to fight against him, and been foolish enough to trust to his observance of the laws of war, or the rights of humanity. He drove the people from their lands and homes with a sweeping and vigorous execution, surpassing all they had hitherto experienced ; and he granted them away to his officers and soldiers with the lavish prodigality, with which men give what is not their own. The " Curse of Cromwell " is still, in Ireland, the severest malediction, and means every thing horrible and monstrous. Lo7'd Straffcnd, — Forfeited Lands. " Wentworth was impatient to signalize his adminis- tration by a service of extensive and immediate emolu- ment to his royal master. His project was nothing less than to subvert the title to every estate in every part of Connaught, and to establish a new plantation through the whole province ; a project which, when first proposed in the late reign, was received with horror and amazement, but which suited the undismayed and enterprising spirit of Lord Wentworth. For this, he had opposed the confirmation of the royal graces transmitted to Lord Falk- APPENDIX. . ^6'3 land, and taken to himself the odium of so flagrant a viola- tion of the royal promise. The parliament was at an end ; and the deputy was at leisure to execute a scheme, which, as it was offensive and alarming, required a cautious and deliberate procedure." * Wentworth proceeded with his Commissioners of Plantation to Connaught, in order to enquire into all titles to estates, and determined to find against all. He was accompanied by a crowd of adventurers, informers, and lawyers. He himself lec- tured the juries roundly, and then left them, as he says, " to chant together, as they call it, over their evidence." In Mayo, Sligo, and Roscommon, the juries were intimi- dated, and compelled to find for the king. In Gal- way, however, the jury would not find the king's title against evidence and law. " Upon which occasion," says Wentworth, " we bethought ourselves of a course to vindicate his majesty's honour and justice, not only against the persons of the jurors, but also against the sheriff, for returning so iusuflicient, indeed, so packed a jury, as we conceive ; and, therefore, we fined the sheriff in a ^^1000 to his majesty. The jury were fined .^4000 each, their estates were seized, and themselves imprisoned till the fines were paid."f James the First, by a similar " Commission of defec- tive Tides," had got into his hands about 400,000 acres of lands, in Leinster, which he planted., as the phrase was, with English and protestant settlers, having expel- led the inhabitants. He proceeded in the same course with the counties of Cavan, Fermanagh, Armagh, Derry, Tyrone, and Donegal, which he obtained pos- session of by means of a real or contrived plot, charged upon O'Neil, O'Donnel, and O'Doherty. These lands * Leland. \ St. Lett. vol. i. p. 4.51. ^54 APPENDIX. lands amounted to about 600,000 acres. Tlie for- feited lands in the reign of William III. amounted to 1,060,992 acres. There is not an acre in Ireland that has not been forfeited over and over asjain. Report of the Commissioners upon the Forfeited Lands in the reign of William III. The Commissioners met vv^ith o^reat difficulties in their enquiries, which were occasioned chiefly by the back- wardness of the people of Ireland to give any inform- ation, out of fear of the grantees, whose displeasure in that kingdom was not easily borne ; and by reports in- dustriously spread and believed that their enquiry would come to nothing. Nevertheless, it appeared to them that the persons outlawed in England, since the 13th Febru- ary, 1688, on account of the late rebellion, amounted in number to 57, and in Ireland to 3921. That all the lands in the several counties in Ireland belonging to the forfeited persons, as far as they could reckon, made 1,060,792 acres, worth per annum ^21 1,623, which, by computation of six years' purchase for a life, and thirteen years' for the inheritance, came to the full value of ^268,138. That some of those lands had been restored to the old proprietors, by virtue of the articles of Limerick and Galway, and by his majesty's favour, and the reversal of outlawries and royal pardons, ob- tained chiefly by gratifications to such persons as had abused his majesty's royal bounty and commission. Besides these restitutions, which they thought to be cor- ruptly procured, they gave an account of seventy-six o-rants and custodiums under the cjreat seal of Ireland : as, to the Lord Rumney, three grants, now in being, con- tain iny the clatter of their heavy boots and spurs as they came in contact. They were both rather young men, though married and having famiUes. The parson soon appeared. He had been apprized of the object of their visit; and he knew the parties. They, too, knew him immediately; and received him* with a shout of recognition. There was something of good nature, and kindness, and contempt in it, towards the person who stood before them. He was a reformed priest ; not reformed by his convictions, but by his vices. As a priest, he was a jovial liver, and had often been the companion of the men before him in their carousings.. He was not a bad man ; but he had fallen before the temptations he had been exposed to. His irregularities, not with wine and whiskey only, but with the buxom and blue-eyed penitents of his parish, had become too noto- rious to be winked at any longer. He saw that there was an end of his ministry under the Romish church ; and, before it was too late, he made good his retreat into the establishment. Here he was received without en- quiry ; and father O'Flyn, now metamorphosed into the Reverend Patrick Flynn, enjoyed the curacy of , and forty pounds a year. The Reverend Mr. Flyn was, however, in no respect changed or improved : he was still an implicit believer in the doctrines and supre- macy of Rome; and, in order to quiet his conscience, he gave himself up without reserve to his vices. Flyn was a tall, strong-built man, and had been handsome : his former companions had not seen him for some years : in that time, his nose had assumed a deeper die of crimson : he took more snuff; and there was an air of greater neglect and abandonment about his person, mixed 304 . APPENDIX. with melancholy. His visitors tried some coarse jests and allusions to former times, but did not succeed in disturbing his gravity. He knew their business, and received them kindly, recognizing them as old friends ; but proceeded to dispatch the affair in hand without delay. He made no observation upon the oaths and imprecations which were mixed with the ceremony ; and when one of the parties spat the wine from his mouth, which he had just drank from the chalice, observing, with a horrid levity, that he preferred punch, Flyn turned pale for an instant, and, it is said, crossed himself devoutly, and said a short prayer in Latin to the Virgin. But he recovered himself instantly, and left the church. The two converts from popery mounted their horses, and rode off full gallop. APPENDIX. 805 CHURCH ESTABLISHMENT. — TITHES. Page 105. The great wealth of the estabhshment in Ireland, and the singularity of its situation, have excited general attention and astonishment. This could not fail to be the case, so soon as these circumstances began to attract the notice they deserved. It may, perhaps, seem strange to some, that we should profess respect for the clergy generally, and great regard for individual characters amongst them, together with the utmost abhorrence for the system which has oppressed the country, and, in our opinion, materially injured the church, or, at least, the cause of religion in Ireland. We think we are not guilty of inconsistency. The strange position of the established clergy, with great revenues, and few or no duties to per- form, miffht well account for defects and errors amonsfst them, greater even than what are found to prevail. It supposes much merit in a church so highly paid, not to be exceedingly corrupt, even setting aside the material circumstance of being almost without employment. It seems admitted, generally, that there must be a com- mutation of tithes in Ireland. Perhaps it would do away the objections which are still made to this measure, if the existing possessions of benefices were left at liberty to apply the law, v/hen enacted, in their own case, or not, as they may think proper, making it imperative on their successors only. It seems fair to permit such per- sons the benefit of that system, if they prefer it, under VOL. I. x 306 APPENDIX. which they entered into the church. With regard to their successors the case is different. The establishment at present counts 22 archbishops and bishops, 33 deans, 34 archdeacons, and about 1300 benefices. The following list is taken from Mr. Wakefield's work ; and is sufficiently accurate. Per Ann. Per Ann. Armagh, (primacy,) £12,000 by Mr. Young, 1779, £8,000 Dublin 12,000 5,000 Tuam 7,700 4,000 Cashel...., 7,000 4,000 Clogher 7,000 4,000 Dromore 4,500 2,000 Down and Connor 5,000 2,800 Derry 12,500 7,000 Kilmore 5,000 2,600 Meath 6,000 ..., 3,400 Raphoe 8,000 2,600 Ferns and Leighlin ... 6,000 2,200 Kildare, held in com- mendam with the deanery of Christ- church «. Ossory 4,000 2,000 Cloyne 5,000 2,500 Cork and Ross 4,500 2,700 Killaloe and Kilfenora 5,000 2,300 6,000 2,600 Li«^erick, Ardfert, 1 and Aghadoe, j Waterford & Lismore 6,000 2,500 Clonfert and Kilmac- 1 « -^^ a Ar\r. T , t o,bu{j z,4'00 duagh 3 Elphin 10,000 3,700 Killala and Achonry.. 3,500 2,900 £125,000 £74,700 APPFA'DiX. 307 Mr. Wakefield observes upon the rapid advance in the value of livings, " that the deanery of Down, in the year 1790, was w^orth only 2,000/. per annum. This year (1812) it was let for 3,700/. The rectory of Mid- dleton, in the county of Cork, when held by Mr. Berkely in 1785, yielded scarcely 800/. per annum: at present it produces upwards of 2,800/. A living of 500/. is but a middling one in Ireland ; and any thing beneath it is considered very low." Mr. Wakefield continues ; " These incomes of bishop- ricks arise partly from tithe, as at Killaloe, but generally from grants of land, over which there is a restraining clause to prevent the incumbent, if that term may be applied to a bishop, from letting them for longer than twenty-one years. As the bishops hitherto have gene- rally been old men, the chance of their surviving that period is not great : they, therefore, renew the lease every third or seventh year, upon receiving a fine ; and the tenant pays the old rent. This is done undei' a special act of parliament: otherwise such renewals would be contrary to the decisions of the English court of chancery. In law-possessions, a life-holder cannot anni- hilate a lease by which his estate is let, and grant a new one, upon receiving a fine, for the longest term, which his settlements would allow; because this would keep his successor out of his income, when he came to his estate. Such, however, is the law in Ireland ; but if the lease be suffered to expire, the land must be let at two-thirds of the full improved value ; or the lease becomes void. But lately, since some young men have been appointed bishops, they have, as it is termed, ' run their lives against their leases,' that is, they have made no renewal, X 2 308 APPENDIX. ensuring a large sum at the public offices, to be received by their families in the event of their death. It would, therefore, be desirable to know the real value of the estates belonging to the bishopricks, were they now out of lease. " A few that I have heard estimated, from the conjec- ture of well informed persons, are as follow : — The Primacy ^140,000 per annum. Derry 120,000 Kilmore 100,000 Waterford 70,000 Clogher 100,000 " The patronage of the Irish bishopricks is very ex- tensive, as will appear from the following table, extracted from Dr. Beaufort's Memoir: — APPENDIX. 309 Number of Parishes. Number in the gift of the Bishop. In the gift of the Crown. Lay. 22 Uni- ver- sity. Impropri- ate, and without Churches or Incum- bents. 103 60 13 5 209 144 15 16 89 79 10 no state- ment. 26 23 2 41 34 1 2 4 lU 53 12 36 — 10 48 33 3 9 3 39 33 3 2 1 224 69 81 37 — 35 31 and the Deanerv. 15' 6 3 7 232 171 18 19 1 13 81 30 27 24 136 76 26 30 137 106 and one 10 9 — 11 127 in com- mendam. 94 8 138 131 10 36 — 17 176 34 27 65 106 43 24 30 — 9 60 43 3 14 73 72 2 1 52 48 4 2244 1391 293 367 21 95" Bishopricks. Armagh Dublin Tuam & Ardagh . . Cashel { Dromore Clogher Down & Connor.. Derry Kilmore Meath Raphoe Ferns & Leighlin Kildare Ossory Cloyne Cork and Ross . Killaloe & KilO fenora j Limerick, Ard-1 fert, & Agha- > doe 3 Waterford and 1 Lismore j Clonfert & Kil-1 macduagh ... 3 Elphin Killala & Achonry X 3 310 APPENDIX. Board of First Fruits. This is another important branch of the machinery of the o-reat estabUshment of Ireland. And there can be no doubt that if honestly managed it would have been found adequate to all the purposes for which it was in- tended, viz. building glebe-houses and churches. It is vulgarly understood, that every clergyman, on being in- ducted to a living, gives a years' income to the fund of first fruits, for the purposes of the Board, or the general advantage of the church ; but this is an error. Many give nothing; and the greater number give no more than was given forty or fifty years ago. While livings have doubled and trebled their amount, the gifts to the Board have continued upon the modest and economical footing of ancient times ; but, though the clergy might deal thus with the Board, they were not content to be without good houses ; and there was even, occasionally, a desire manifested to have churches built. The Board was therefore under the necessity, (if houses and churches were to be built,) either of enforcing its rights over the clergy, or of applying to parliament. The piety and good-natured facility of parliament made it easier to adopt the latter course. We take the following table liom Mr. W^akefield's work. We are not at present in possession of docu- ments going further. Gifts for building churcliesl Grants. Paid. Unpaid. between May, 1801, and J- a£76,070 43,300 37,770 January, 1811, J Loans for ditto 59,122 35,988 23,134 Gifts for purchasing glebes 20,403 9,703 11,300 Gifts for building glebe-houses. . 60,342 1 8,21 7 43,325 Loans for building glebe-houses 112,180 48,406 63,673 ^^'328^017 155,614 176,202 APPENDIX. 311 This is a large expenditure ; and taking it that par- liament has for the last ten years continued to be as liberal, it makes a great addition to the income of this rich establishment, and to the burdens of this impo- verished country, ' Mr. Wakefield not only approves of this expenditure and these grants, but praises highly the letter of his cor- respondent, the late bishop of Limerick, which we subjoin. To Mr. Wakefield. Limerick, 13th September, 1810. My dear Sir, Upon my return last night fi^om my diocesan visita- tion in Kerry, I had the pleasure of receiving your letter of the 23d ult. Since the publication of Dr. Beaufort's work in 1 792, the state of the established church in Ireland has been much changed, and for the better. Parliament now "wisely grants 50,000/. per annum, for the purpose of building churches and glebe-houses ; and for the purchasing of glebes ; so that within the last seven years more has been done in that way than in a century before that period. In this united diocese, I have furnished, and am now building twenty-four churches, and many glebe-houses ; and in the course of a few years, / liojpe to have a church and a resident 7niniste7' upoji every benefice in my diocese. I have been employed for some weeks past in Kerry, inspecting and constructing some new churches, in the X 4 31^ APPENDIX. most distant and wildest parts, along the coast from Kenmore to Dingle. They had never see7i a bishop there before ; and in some parishes^ I am sorry to say, they had never seen a protestant minister, I have now given them churches and resident clergy ; "which must have the best consequences, both religions and political. With respect to Ardfert cathedral, it was originally a very extensive and magnificent building — totally ruined in the wars of Cromwell : part of it is now fitted up neatly ; which serves also for the parish-church. The chapter is com- plete : I have just revived and rendered it efficient. It consists of a dean, archdeacon, precentor, chancellor, treasurer, and archdeacon of Aghadoe. There is also a minor canon — all endowed. The church of Killarney was in a state of ruin when you were at that place. I have had it put into high con- dition this year. I held my visitation there last week, and found it very handsomely furnished with an orna- mental spire, &c. I am building spires to all my new churches, which gives a civilized appearance to that wild country. My metropolitan, the archbishop of Cashel, is also very zealous and active in promoting the interests of the protestant religion in this province, by mxdtiplying churches and resident clergy. Believe me, my dear sir, your faithful humble servant, Charles Limerick. Edxioard Wakefield, Esq. We have marked some parts of this letter in italics ; and we have a few observations to offer upon it. The bishop and the metropolitan seem to have no other no- tion of promoting the interests of the protestant religion APPENDIX. 313 than by multiplying churches and resident clergy. Now, the protestant clergy have been multiplying for ages in Ireland, resident and non-resident; churches rising and falling to decay, and rebuilding, down to our day — and we ask, what is the country the better for it ? — or has the protestant religion been more advanced in Ireland ? Do we not know that there have been churches and resi- dent ministers in many parishes, time out of mind, where there are yet no protestants ? And to some of these churches there have even been spires ! The bishop seems to have an idea that a country may be civilized by means of spires ! This, indeed, would be a cheap and speedy civilization. As for the " appearance " only, we are disposed to regard it but little. He talks of the people never having seen a bishop before, (we presume he means a protestant bishop,) or a protestant minister. And yet it is for such a people that protestant churches are to be built at great expense ! Where is the minis- ter to get a congregation ? And what is the use of a church without one? These are questions which the bishop does not enable us to answer. He says, indeed, that ministers and churches (he makes no mention of congregations) are to have the best consequences^ both re- ligious and political. But he does not inform us what these religious and political consequences are to be. The folly of building churches and having resident ministers where there are no congregations, seems to us extraor- dinary. Except as missionaries for the purpose of con- verting the people, we cannot understand the use of such ministers. But they have not converted the people, nor civilized them — nor will they ever do so, unless they employ other means than stone and mortar — glebe-houses, churches, and spires ! 314 APPENDIX. The author of the pamphlet " On the Consumption of public Wealth by the Clergy," estimates the property of the establishment in Ireland at 1,300,000/. Value of archbishopricks and bishopricks sB 185,000 1309 Beneficed clergymen (per Parliamentary Return) whose benefices are valued at 800/. on an average 1,047,000 ^ 1,232,000 " Great as these incomes of the bishops are, they are nothing to what the lands would produce if out of lease. " To the above estimate are to be added sums assess- ed in towns, &c. ; and it does not appear certain that the deaneries are included, which are very valuable. " It is considered that the estates of the bishopricks, and the ecclesiastical and other corporations, form one- ninth of the land of Ireland. " It apppears that the estates of the bishopricks, dean- eries, and other ecclesiastical corporations, at a low esti- mate, would be worth, if out of lease, 600,000/. a-year." It is to be recollected that this splendid provision is made for the pastors of about 3 or 400,000 persons only. The Rev. Robert Adam, B. A., Oxford, b, zealous clergyman of the church of England, says, (" Religious World displayed, 1809," vol. ii. p. 389.) " In Ireland, the members of the established church are said to amount only to about 300,000, and the whole body of the clergy not to exceed 1 200 ; and APPENDIX. 315 neither there nor in England, it is feared, is the church recovering the members which she has lost. Instead of seeing the prodigal returned to his mother''^ house to be fed there, at a table rich and well furnished with all the viands of the Gospel, and where preside men duly qua- lified and authorized to minister in holy things, we daily behold fresh parties breaking off from home, and seemingly preferring those husks that are thrown before them by every illiterate mechanic, who maybe pleased to present himself as their spiritual father and instructor." Estimated Expenditure on the Clergy of the Established Church of England and Ireland, IN IRELAND. Hearers 400,000 According to the Population-return, there are in Ireland 6,846,000 people, — say.... 7,000,000 The following is deemed their distribution into sects: Roman Catholics 5,500,000 Presbyterians 800,000 Church of England and Ireland 400,000 Methodists and other sects 300,000 The adherents of the established church, in Ireland, amount, at the outside, to the number given here : 300,000 is the usual estimate; and is that of the Rev. Robert Adam. [See before.) Places of worship 740 On this subject there are contradictory statements; one gives 1000 churches, another 582. As there are many in which service is not performed, either from 316 APPENDIX. want of hearers, or from being in a state of dilapidation, or other causes, it is probable that the number given is correct for the churches in actual use, — being one for every 540 hearers. (See " State of Ireland, jmst and present," printed by Mahon, Dublin ; and Nolan's " Plan for Commutation of Tythes," printed by Mahon, Dublin.) Clergymen 1,700 Archbishops 4 Bishops 18 Deans 33 Archdeacons 34 Canons, prebends, &c 500 Dignitaries 587 Working clergy 1,113 For full particulars, see Ecclesiastical Register, Nolan, Dublin. One place of worship for every 540 hearers. One clergyman for every 235 hearers. One archbishop for every 100,000 hearers. One prelate for every 18,000 hearers. Income a^'1,300,000 400,000 hearers, at 3,250,000/. per million of hearers 1,300,000 Estimated Expenditure on the Clergy of the Established Church of England. IN ENGLAND AND WALES. Hearers 6,000,000 APPENDIX. 317 The whole population is ] 2,000,000, and the number thus computed as hearers of the established chinch is one-half; and, certainly, it is the outside. Places of worship 2,600 Clergymen 18,000 Archbishops 2 Bishops 24^ Archdeacons 60 Deans 27 Canons and prebends 544 Dignitaries 657 Working clergy, rectors, vicars, curates, &c. 17,34S One place of worship for every 2,300 hearers. One clergyman for every 333 hearers. One archbishop for every 3,000,000 hearers. One prelate for every 233,000 hearers. Income a^'7,600,000 6,000,000 hearers at ^1,266,000 per million 7,596,000 Estimated Expenditure on their ox^n Clergy hy the People of Ireland^ who are not of the Established Church, Hearers 6,000,000 Computed as follows : Catholics 5,500,000 Presbyterians 800,000 Methodists and other sects 300,000 Places of worship 2,378 Being at the rate of one for every 2,400 hearers, and of one for every clergyman. If in some places there are more than one clergyman to a place of worship, so, in the country, there very often are more places of worship than one to a clergyman. 318 APPENDIX. " There are districts where they have the service in the open field for want of places of worship ; where the minister, and the altar, or communion-table, are defended from the weather by means of carts, blankets, and quilts, pur- posely disposed. In very few districts are the places of worship large enough to contain those who attend ; and numbers are to be seen standing outside. It has been lately mentioned, in the French house of Deputies, that in some places, the Protestants, for want of churches, performed divine worship in the open air. Surely, these two great nations, which have expended so much on barracks in time of w ar, ought to employ a part of their revenues in time of peace, to provide plain, substantial places of worship for their people; who, whatever be their denomination, are all of the faith of Christ. " There appears to have been a considerable want of skill and foresight in the management of Ireland, from its conquest up to the present day. It presents a con- trast to that of Silesia, by a man whose political sagacity was as great as his military talents. When Frederick the Great conquered Silesia, the excitement amongst the Catholics, fearing for their religion under a Protestant king, was extreme. Frederick made no distinction be- tween the sects, placed all upon an equal footing, and educated all. The excitement was not kept alive ; and the Catholics, of their own accord, have joined other persuasions in great numbers. Frederick did not employ Protestants to educate a bigoted Catholic people : he took them by their prejudices, and sought out an Augustinian monk, the ingenious and indefatigable Felbiger, placed him at the head of his institutions for education; and the success was immediate and general." Clergymen 2,378 APPENDIX. 319 The number of all the clergymen is thus given, in the Dublin Evening Post, of 1 4th March, 1822, at the foot of the Population-returns to Parliament : — Established church clergy 1,697 Catholic clergy 1,994 Presbyterians „, 239 Other sects 145 2,378 One place of worship for every 2,400 hearers. One clergyman for every 2,400 hearers. Income .^261,580 (Voluntary contribution, at an average of 110/. each, for 2,378 clergymen.) 6,600,000 hearers, at 40,000/. per million of hearers, 264,000/. Government grants yearly the sum of 13,487/. ; to certain Protestant ministers, viz. to Presbyterians, 8,697/. ; to seceding Presbyterians 4,034/. ; to other Protestant dissent- ing ministers 756/. Estimates of the Revenues and Property of the Established Church in England^ Wales, and Ireland, Annual value of the gross produce of the land of England and Wales a^' 150,000,000 One-third of the land of England and Wales, not subject to tithe for the clergy; being either tithe-free, or lay impro- priations 50,000,000 Leaving the amount on which tithe for the clergy is levied 100,000,000 Supposing the clergy to levy one-sixteenth, they get ^ 6,250,000 320 APPENDIX. Tithes «^"6,25O,OO0;> Estates of the bishops and ecclesiastical corporations 1,000,000 Assessments in towns, on houses, &c 250,000 Chapels of ease stipends 100,000 The estimate of church property used in these tables 7,600,000 Estimate in the Morning Chronicle^ November^ 1821. Annual value of agricultural produce <^1 50,000,000 Tithes are one-twelfth 12,250,000 One-fourth of the land tithe free 3,125,000 Tithes collected 9,375,000 Lay impropriations one-eighth 1,171,000 Church property, tithes only ^'8,204,000 Exclusive of an immense property of the ecclesiastical corporations. '' To rate tithes as equal to one-fourth of the rent was considered by many as a just estimate during the war ; if so, they must be nearer one-third at present, from the diminution in the value of the gross produce, whilst the expences of producing have remained nearly the same. It follows, that the proportion of gross pro- duce given as rent must be much smaller; but the proportion of gross produce given as tithe is not at all smaller ; it is rather greater ; for it is more rigorously levied to make up for the fall in price. In })oor tillage lands, the landlord often gets less than a tenth of the gross produce in rent : the tithe remains always a tenth. In the neighbourhood of towns, pieces of land are let 11 APPENDIX. 3^1 rent free to sow potatoes ; the landlord relinquishing rent for one year, to profit by the increased richness of his well manured land for wheat the next; but the tithe admits of no mitigation, it takes a tenth of both : thus, at times, rent is nothing, and tithe twenty-five shillings per acre." We have to observe on this extract, from the pamphlet we have been quoting, that the practice of letting land free of rent for the cultivation of potatoes is not con- fined to the neighbourhood of towns, but is very general in very remote parts of the country also ; and that the tithe of the gross produce, in poor lands, sometimes greatly exceeds the rent received by the landlord. We continue to quote — Expenditure on the Clergy of the People of Great Britain and Ireland who are not Hearers of the Established Church of England, and Ireland, Name of the nation. Number of hearers. Rate of ex- penditure, per million of hearers. Total of expenditure. England and Wales — 1 various denomina- > tions J Scotland — establish- 7 ed kirk.., j not of the 7 kirk 3 Ireland — not of the 1 established church J Total hearers.,.. 6,000,000 1,500,000 500,000 6,600,000 14,600,000 £^8,5000 135,000 90,000 40,000 ^513,000 206,000 44,000 261,000 1,024,000 VOL. I. 3£^ APPENDIX. Expenditure on the Clergy of all the Christian World, except the kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Name of tlie nation. France United States Spain Portugal , Hungary — Catholics... Calvinists... Lutherans... Italy.. Austria Switzerland Prussia German Small States... Holland Netherlands Denmark Sweden Russia — Greek church Catholics \ and Lutherans j Christians in Turkey...,. South America.,.. ......... Christians dispersed 1 elsewhere J Number of hearers. Expenditure on the clergy per million of hearers. 30,000,000 9,600,000 11,000,000 3,000,000 4,000,000 1,050,000 650,000 19,391,000 18,918,000 1,720,000 10,536,000 12,763,000 2,000,000 3,000,000 1,700,000 3,400,000 34,000,000 8,000,000 6,000,000 15,000,000 3,000,000 ^'35,000 60,000 100,000 100,000 80,000 60,000 40,000 40,000 50,000 50,000 50,000 60,000 80,000 35,000 70,000 70,000 15,000 50,000 30,000 30,000 50,000 Total amount of the expen- diture in each nation. £1,050,000 576,000 1,100,000 300,000 320,000 63,000 26,000 776,000 950,000 87,000 527,000 765,000 160,000 105,000 119,000 238,000 510,000 400,000 180,000 450,000 150,000 The clergy of 198,728,000 people, receive ^'8,852,000. APPENDIX, 323 Expe7iditure on the Clergy of the Established Church of England and Ireland. Name of the nation. Number of hearers. England and Wales... 6,000,000 Ireland ' 400,000 Expenditure on the clergy per million of hearers. Total amount of ti.'o expen- diture in each nation. i^'l, 266,000^7,596,000 3,250,000| 1,300,000 The clergy of 6,400,000 people, receive ^8,896,000. Expenditure on the Clergy of all the Christian Worlds except the kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland^ according to the three great divisions, — Roman Catholics, Protes- tants, and Greek Church, Catholics Numbers. Expenditure. 118,872,000 38,856,000 41,000,000 ^5,862,000 2,230,000 760,000 Protestants Greek church — In Russia 34,000,000") Turkey 5,000,000 |- Austria, d,; oats, 143 barrels, one-half of the tithe of which, 21, 3s. 8d, ; flax, one-half of the tithe of which, 5s, ; hay, 125 tons, one-half of the tithe of which, 6l, 5s,; in all 33/. Is, 46?. The archbishop took time to consider. '-"' Jtdy 16. 1780. Same against same. — Nave, for th^ impugnant, prayed to be let into the merits, but his grace over-ruled him. Nave then tendered 10/. 45. 9d, as a compensation, which the promovent refused. Griffith prayed sentence, which was decreed by his grace for 33/. l5. 4^., with 1/. 6s, 8d, costs. ^^^ August 12. 1782. M assey against Murnane. — Meadow, five acres, 1/. and 1/.; 6s. Sd, costs. '^^ October 7. 1782. Shaw against Mahony. — Ordered, that Gilbert Meara, the proctor of Caesar Sutton, be en- joined from collecting or demanding tithes from any of the parishioners of Ballyshechan, which are claimed by said Sutton. APPENDIX. 351 " *' Hare against Strang. — Decree, that the appeal is deserted in pain ; and that a monition shall issue for 33/. Is, 4fd., pursuant to the rule of the 16th July, 1781. '' ^ March 10. 1783. Lloyd against Hoops. — 60 acres of meadow, producing 240 tons, valued 16/.; 10 acres, 4-0 tons, 2/. 135. ^d, ; 6048 stone of potatoes, at Id, per stone, the tithe in all, 2/. lOs, 46/., and 1/. 6s, 8d, costs. " * Ryan against Madden. — Decree for 45. 6d. for the tithe of two acres of meadow, and 1/. 6s, 8d, costs. " ' Moore against Pat. Moroney. — One acre of pota- toes, producing 60 barrels, at 95. 9^. per barrel, that is, 2/. 185. 6d. per acre; four acres of meadow, at 2 J tons per acre, 11. per ton. ^'^June, 1785. Ryan against Greene. — Four acres and three-fourths of potatoes, at 64 barrels, containing 4256 stone, the tithes 425 stone, at 4c?. per stone, amount to 5/. 6s, 3d,; flax, two acres and one-half, 160 stone, the tithe, 1 6 stone, at 45., 3/. 45. Od, ; oats, four acres and one-quarter, containing 232 stone, the tithe, 43 stone, at 6d, per stone, 1/. l5. 6d, ; meadow, ten acres, 30 tons, the tithe at 2/. 25. per acre, 61, I6s, 6d,; in all, 16/. 85. 3d, " ' Parish of Balingarry, Jww^26. 1 784. Preston against Clifford. — In 1783, 420 stone of potatoes, tithe at Sd, per stone, amount to 105. 6d, ; oats, 48 stone, tithe at 9d, per stone, 35, 4^^^. ; barley, 196 stone, tithe at 8d, per stone, 135. ; hay, 10 tons, tithe whereof one ton, 21. 3s, 4c/. Decreed, and 1/. 6s, Sd, costs. 352 appendix; ^'^July 26. 1784. Walsh against Fanning, parish of Kilcooly, in 1783. — Had two one-half tons, at 205. per ton, the tithe five hundred weight, value 55. ; potatoes, 100 barrels, at Ss. per, the tithe \L 105.; oats, five bar- rels, tithe half-barrel, value 35. 6d. ; in all, \L 185. Qd, Decreed, and 1/. Qs, 8d. costs/ " It appears fi-om one of these decrees, that in the year 1780, a demand is brought for 265 barrels of potatoes, ^s two-thirds of the tithe of the parish of Ballyshechan. ^' By what learned process the proctor or evidence can prove this precise value, or whether he has measured the crop, I cannot say ; but I most strongly suspect the contrary ; and then his valuation is a false and arbitrary accuracy ; and his subdivision of the crop is a trick to increase the charge. The minuteness of charge is the multiplication of oppression. Do not imagine that the proprietor of tithe cannot proceed otherwise than by this species of minute valuation ; for I have read you the report of suits brought in different manner, to which I beg you may advert. This method appears from the report, an innovation : it is tithing by mouthfuls. " It appears from this decree, that these 265 barrels of potatoes were the produce of four acres and an half; the charge appears to be 4/. 35. 9d., that is, near 1/. the acre for potatoes. Tlie case goes on, and charges for 42 barrels of wheat, (not measured, I ap- prehend,) 4Z. 45. 6d., value 205. the barrel; and as this appears to arise from seven acres, the charge is 125. the acre ; to this is added 205. costs. APPENDIX. 35S The case that follows this, is a demand brought for one-third of the tithe, and proceeds exactly on the same principles of crafty minuteness, false accuracy, and real oppression. In these cases you will recollect, that there should ever be made a difference between the field price and market price : the field price is what the crop is worth at the time and in the state in which the parson's right accrues ; and the market price is that to which the par- son has no right. These distinctions do not seem always to have been religiously adhered to by these clerical judges. Tlie next case I shall observe on is, a demand brought for 2350 barrels of potatoes, 128 barrels of here, and 148 barrels of oats. On what evidence ? Who was the laborious indefatigable man who went through the lon^^* process of measuring and weighing this ponderous and bulky produce? This is the case of Mrs. Steang; and the result of this charge is a decree for 331. 145., and ]/. 6s. Sd. cost. There is no necessity for knowledge of fact to support such a demand : the evidence does it by his power of guessing, by his craft, his sagacity; which it seems, before such a tribunal, is satisfactory. You think this measure by the barrel a criminal inge- nuity ; but they carry it much farther : they swear ^^ the stone. I have read you a suit brought for 6048 stone of potatoes; but there is a case which sums up all the principles which I have stated and objected to : it is the case of Ryan against Greene, — in this, foui- acres and VOI<. I. A A 35'ii APPENDIX. a quarter of potatoes are alleged to have contained 4266 stone, and are tithed at 51. 6s. 3d., which is above one guinea an acre for potatoes : two acres and a half of flax are alleged to contain 160 stone, and are charged above 3l. 45. ; above a guinea an acre for flax : four acres and a quarter of oats, alleged to contain 432 stone, are charged 1/. l5. 6d.; about 5^. the acre: 10 acres of mea- dow, alleged to contain 30 ton, are charged at 6l. 6s. 6d. ; that is above 1 25. the acre meadow : the decree went for the sum charged, 16/. 85. 3d., and the cost, \l. 6s. Sd. An observation, which aggravates even this case, will occur, when I tell you this charge was made in a year of famine — the famine of 1783, when an embargo was laid on your exports, and the people nourished by con- tribution. There is another aggravation even to this : they charge a famine price, and calculate a plenty pro^ duce, and avail themselves of both. There is another case of scarcity, where a suit is brought for four hundred and thirty stone of potatoes, valued at 3d. per stone, a price of scarcity ; 48 stone of oats, a price of scarcity ; and for ten tons of hay, valued at 21, 3s. 4^d. the ton, a price of scarcity, decreed with ll. 6s. Sd. costs. Another case of scarcity, where a de- mand is made for 630 stone of potatoes, valued at 3d. per stone, a price of scarcity ; ninety-six stone of oats, valued at 9d. per stone, a price of scarcity ; eleven tons of hay, at 21. 3s. 9d. the ton; total tithe, 31. 16s., decreed, with 1/. 6s. 8d. costs : and these seem to be the case of poor peasants, who have but 600 or 400 stone of potatoes, valued at 3d. a stone, in a hard year, in the famine of 1783, decreed with the aggravation of th© highest costs the law would allow, APPENDIX. 355 But there is a case of a most extraordinary appear- ance — a case which rises on famine : I do not see that any decree was made upon it. One acre of potatoes is alleged to contain 60 barrels of potatoes ; and each bar- rel is valued at 9^. 9^.; that is 2/. 185. 6d. tithe for the acre of potatoes. With regard to the legality of the conduct of a clergy- man, who, in rating his parishioners, takes advantage of a famine, and brings up, as it were, the rear of divine vengeance, and becomes, in his own person, the last great scourge of the husbandman, — with regard to the legality of the conduct of a clergyman, who not only takes the advantage of famine, but joins a famine price to a plenty produce, and by one and the same act, punishes human industry, and aggravates physical mis- fortune — as to the legality of such a conduct, I shall say nothing: it maybe perfectly consistent with his temporal claims, but blasts his spiritual pretensions for ever. After these oppressions, — the most grievous kind of oppressions — oppressions by judgment of law, — you would hardly listen to the minor grievance, where the decree shall be for 1/., and the costs \l. 6s. 8d,; where the decree shall be for 45., and costs ll. 6s. 8d. There are several of this kind ; but this would seem the mercy of the court, admonishing the peasantry never to appear aerain before such a tribunal. *f^' From these instances I may infer, that the peasantry must look for redress to parliament, and will not find it in the spiritual courts ; which, from their distance, from the uncertainty of their session, from their constitution, and from their judgments, must rather give the tithe- A A 2 356 APPENDIX. farmer a confidence in extortion, than the husbandman a confidence in the law. From these instances I think I have proved, that there has existed such a thing as excess of demand — excess of demand, without remedy ; and this excess would be better understood, if you com- pare the ratages of the south with those of other parts of the kingdom. Here Mr. Grattan observed, that two material dif- ferences existed ; first, that potatoes v/ere tithed no- where but in the south ; secondly, that the other articles of tillage were tithed nowhere so high as in the south : that there were some few parishes, 'tis true, in the north, and some parts of counties that bordered on Munster, where potatoes were tithed ; but that the in- stances were few ; and the exception proved the rule. That the other articles of tillage were not tithed so high in other places, after making every allowance for difference of soil. Here Mr. Grattan stated the ratages which were usual in the other provinces, and which were much less than those exacted in the south, which, he said, ap- peared to be the region of poverty and exaction ; and tumult seemed commensurate witli the exaction, which, he said, fell particularly heavy on those who were the least able to pay. He showed, that in the other pro- vinces, not only the tithe on tillage was less, but that there were certain moduses, in some of their coun- ties, for articles which in the south were heavily tithed. Thus, in the north, there was a modus for flax, sixpence, be the quantity ever so great. That in part of Con- naught there was a modus for hay, sixpence per farm, APPENDIX. 357 be the quantity ever so great. That, considering the exemption of potatoes, these moduses, and the ratages on tillage in the other parts of the kingdom, two ob- servations must arise ; 1st, either that the clergy were greatly cheated in the three parts of Ireland, or that the people were greatly oppressed in the south ; 2dly, that you must raise the ratages of the clergy in Ulster, Connaught, and Leinster, or you must now check them in Munster. Are you prepared for the former of those events ? Are you prepared, in Connaught and Ulster, to pay 125. or 145. for potatoes, and 125. the acre for flax? Are you prepared, in Ulster, for the compensation- bill, and the magistracy-bill, which must accompany and enforce such efforts to introduce among you those exactions which oppress Munster ? It is true, the north is teazed in some counties by small dues, which it is a part of my scheme to put an end to, and make a com- pensation to the clergy. The ratages of the south will be still better under- stood, by comparing them with her own ratages at a former period : that from every information he could collect, they had greatly increased. This will be a very proper subject for your committee. That he had affidavits to produce, stating the increase, which was rapid and exorbitant, bearing no proportion whatsoever to the general increase in the value of things. That these affidavits seemed warranted by the current testimony of public opinion, and, particularly, by extracts from the decrees of the vicar court ; where, it appeared, not from one decree, but a course of decrees, that the acreable ratages of late had greatly increased. A A 3 S5S APPENDIX. Here he read some of the decrees before referred to, — That it had been said, that in the diocese of Cork and Ross, the ratages had not increased these last thirty years. That he was wilHng to rest the case on that principle; and if the ratages in the south had not within these last thirty years greatly increased, he was willing to give up the question ; and he desired a committee to investigate and determine that important point. That this encroachment, on which he insisted, was the more inexcusable, when we considered the great increiise of tillasfe in the south, which of itself would have en- creased the incomes of the clerg}^, even thougli they had diminished their ratages : the causes of the increase of tillage make the encrease of ratage improper, as well as unnecessary; because they are in some degree arti- ficial : the bounty on corn is an artificial cause. That bounty should not be tithed. The effect of that bounty has not been prevented ; but the full operation of it has been checked by excessive tithe, and has been inter- rupted by tumult, the companion of these excessive de- mands ; so that the excess of tithe reacts on the pre- mium, and makes it doubtful whether the plough shall advance under the bounty, or go back under the tithe. Another artificial cause of the growth of your tillage in the south, is your want of manufacture : a poor and rapid population that cannot be employed in manufac- ture, must be employed in husbandry ; but then it is the miserable and experimental husbandry ; what Mr. Young calls an execrable tillage on bog or mountain, — which, by the laws of England, would be for seven years exempt from tithes, and which, by the laws of Ireland, ought to be so. You have two acts ; one exempting- nevvLy reclaimed ground from tithe of flax, or for seven APPENDIX. 359 years,; and another exempting reclaimed bog, provided ten acres shall be reclaimed, from tithe generally for seven years : but why not, as in England, exempt all nevi^ly reclaimed ground from all manner of tithe for seven years ? Here Mr. Grattan mentioned, that he learned, in some of the western parts of the county of Cork, they rated the mountaineers higher than in many parts of the richest low-land ; charging them by the spade length a sum, which, when applied to the acre, was equal to 20 or 305. the plantation acre. These parts, and their inhabitants, he understood, were entirely consigned to the dominion of the tithe proctor, or tithe farmer, and were equally savage, and oppressed, and turbulent. This encroachment, this disproportion, and this ex- cess, which I have already particularized, are the more to be lamented, because the law does not administer the remedy. The ecclesiastical courts I have proved to afford no redress whatever; I have shewn that their judgments are not founded in moderation, and are not alwavs founded in law. The right of setting out the tithe has not always proved, hi the case of the poor, a security against illegal de- mands, and does not affect to be a security against un- conscionable demands. By the law, the tenant must give forty-eight hours' notice, and bind himself to a day, whether fair or foul. In the case of potatoes, he must, if the parson does not choose to attend, leave the ridge in the field ; which may prevent his sowing winter corn, and be the dif- A A 4 360 APPENDIX. ference between the profit on wheat and on oats. The tenant cannot dig his potatoes till October : he seldom does till November; and he must use them in August; because the stock of last year is exhausted. Now the digging a bowl of potatoes is, by construction, in the ecclesiastical courts, the subtraction, not of the parti- cular tithe, but of the tithes of the year : for simplicity of suit, they construe subtraction of one praedial tithe to be subtraction of the whole ; and for extent of power, that is, for the sake of bringing the whole imder their jurisdiction, they construe potatoes to be praedial lithe. Thus the necessity of the year brings the peasant under the lash of ecclesiastical authority, that great scourge of the farmer. In the last year the peasantry very generally set out their tithe, and the clergy in several instances refused to draw : they did so in several instances where there was no illegal combination; unless a combination among themselves, to deprive the peasant of a right to set out his tithes, and get an ex post facto law to collect their tithe in a new, summary, and oppressive mode. Sir, it will be proved, that the countryman has waited day after day, until the parson should draw his tithe. It will be proved, that he has left his crop in the field until it has become green. It will be proved, that he has offered to the parson or proctor to hire them horses to draw their tithe. It will be proved, that he has offered to draw it home at his own expense. Here Mr. Grattan read a notice from a landholder to a clergyman, informing him, that he should draw on such a day, and offering to send the parson horses and cars to APPENDIX. 361 draw- his tithe wherever he should appoint; and he ob- served, that the parson had refused. He also observed, that an offer had been made to a clergyman by a gentle- man, to draw, keep, and preserve the tithe in the gentle- man's haggard, if the clergyman did not choose to keep it in his own ; which offer Mr. Grattan stated to have been refused ; the clergyman choosing to recover by a compensation, or an ca: post facto law, which went to de- prive the countryman of his common right, without any proof of his guilt. That if such a bill was permitted, it would take from the countryman in some of the cases mentioned above, not the tenth, but the fifth ; for the tenant had lost by weather the tithe severed and set out, and was likely to pay another tithe by act of parliament. That this would be not compensation, but robbery, and the worst species of robbery, robbery by authority of parliament : it would be to take the most decided and unconstitutional part, in a case where this house affected to take no part at all ; and where it declined every kind of information whatsoever, to enable it to take any part with dignity, justice, or effect ; and that by such a step we should put the Irish farmer, with respect to his tithe, on ground very different from that of the English farmer, and much more disadvantageous. That the law in England does not require forty-eight hours. That where the tithe is left too lonsr on the ground, the law of England gave the owner of the land an action on the case against the parson for his negli- gence. You give the parson a compensation for his negligence. 362 APPENDIX. If tithes set out remain too long on the ground, the law of England gives the owner of the land a right to take those tithes as damage faisajit ; if sued for them, he is to set forth how long they remained on the premises ; and the jury (whom your bill excludes, and thus indi- rectly stigmatizes) is to decide. By the law of England, the care of the tithe, after severance, rests with the par- son. In England, where the tithe of corn was set out, and the parson would not take it, but prayed a remedy in the ecclesiastical court, a prohibition against the parson was granted. See hovv' much more care the law of England takes of the husbandman, how much more attention it affords him, than the law of the parliament of Ireland; and it is one of the charges and allegations of the husbandmen of the south, — That, in certain parishes, the parishioners have duly and legally set out " their tithes, have given due notice, and have taken all the legal steps ; but that no person has attended on the part of the clergyman ; under the ex- pectation, they conceive, of getting some new method of recovery hitherto unknown to the law, and tending to deprive, by a past operation, the parish of the benefit of its ancient right and privilege of setting out the tithe." This oppression connects itself with another part of this subject — a very obnoxious, a very oppressive, and a very notorious part of it — the tithe-farmer : the farming of any revenue is a pernicious idea : it is the practice of absolute kings, who, anxious about their riches, and careless about their people, get a fixed income from some desperate adventurer, and then let loose on the cam- APPENDIX. S63 muiiily this animal of prey, at once destitute of remorse, and armed with authority. In free countries such a practice is not permitted. You would not allow it to the king ; and you ought not to allow it to the church. It is an evil in politics, but a scandal in religion ; and the more dangerous in the latter, because tithe being indefinite, the latitude of extortion is indefinite. The use of the tithe-farmer is to get from the parishioner what the parson would be ashamed to demand ; and to enable the clergyman to ab- sent himself from his duty : the powers of the tithe- farmer are summary laws and ecclesiastical courts : his livelihood is extortion ; his rank in society is generally the lowest ; and his occupation is, to pounce on the poor in the name of the Lord. He is a species of wolf, left by the shepherd to take care of the flock in his absence: he fleeces both, and begins with the parson. Here Mr. Grattan stated, that the tithe-farmer seldom got less than one-fourth of the money collected; but sometimes one-third. That there were instances where he got even more, and had reduced the parson to the state of a poor pensioner on his own living. That he had heard, that in one of the disturbed parishes, the parish had wished to come to a good understanding w^ith the clergyman, and to pay him in person ; but that the tithe-farmer liad obstructed such an accommodation, and had, by his mercenary intervention, prevented concord, moderation, and composition. Parishes were not only subject to one tithe-farmer, but, in some cases, were cursed with a legion of them. A non-resident clergyman shall employ a tithe-farmer, who shall set the tithe over 364) APPENDIX. again, to two blacksmiths, who go among the flock like two vultures. A tithe-farmer shall, on being questioned, give the following account of himself: — That he held the tithe from one, who had them from an officer, who held them from a clergyman, who did not reside in a parish where there were resident no dean, no rector, no vicar, no schoolmaster; where the whole business of Christianity, on the Protestant side, was transacted by a curate at 50/. a year; and as the parish has been disturbed by the tithe-farmer, or proctor, so has it, in some cases, been quieted in getting rid of him. I have known a case where the parish made with their clergy- man the following agreement: — " Sir, we pay your proc- tor 800/. a year, and he gives you 600/. ; w^e will give you 600/., and become your collectors and your security." In another living the parish paid the proctor 450/. a year, and the proctor paid the parson 300/. : the parishioners became the collectors and the security, paid the clergy- man 300/. a year, took for their trouble 30/., and eased the parish of 1 20/. : the consequence was peace. And the more you investigate this subject, the more you will find, that the disturbance of the people, and the ex- actions of the church, have been commensurate; and that the peace of the former has attended the moderation of the latter. Nor is it only the excess of exaction which makes the tithe-farmer a public misfortune : his mode of collection is another scourge; — he puts his charges into one or more notes, payable at a certain time ; if not then discharged, he serves the countryman with a summons, charging him 6d, for the service, and l5. for the sum- mons ; he then, sometimes, puts the whole into a Kerry bond or instrument, which bears interest : he then either keeps the bond over his head, or issues out execution, APPENDIX. 365 and gets the countryman's body and goods completely into his power. To such an abuse is this abominable practice carried, that, in some of the southern parts of Ireland, the peasantry are made tributary to the tithe- farmer; draw home his corn, his hay, and his turf for nothing; give him their labour, their cars, and their horses, at certain times of the year for nothing. These oppressions not only exist, but have acquired a formal and distinct appellation — tributes : tributes to extor- tioners ; tributes paid by the poor in the name of the Lord. To oppression we are to add intoxication — the drunkenness and idleness which not seldom attend the method in which the tithe-farmer settles his accounts with the poor parishioners devoted to his care : the place in which he generally settles these accounts, makes his bargains, and transacts his business, is the ale-house. He sometimes, I am told, keeps one himself; or he has a relation who gets a license to sell ale and spirits ; be- cause his friend is employed by the church, and will bring: him custom. Do you, gentlemen, sign your leases in the ale-house? What should you think of a steward who made your tenants drunk when he should collect your rents ? And what should a clergyman think of his tithe-farmer, who made his flock drunk when he collected or settled his tithes, and bathed in whiskey this precious offering, this primaeval property, held by some to be the very essence of religion, and not only most ancient, but divine ? To this loss of industry you are to add the loss of revenue; where (as in some cases, I am told,) the re- venue officer is the tithe-farmer, and in that most suspici- ous and deadly combination of fraudulent capacities, 366 APPENDIX. overcharges in tithe, and undercharges in tax : that is, compensates to the countryman by robbing the king ; and adds to the crime of exaction the offence of spoHation, and profits by both. I appeal to the commissioners of the revenue, whether they have not good reason to suspect such practices? And I appeal to some of a right reverend bench, whether this be the only commut- ation which, in their opinion, is practicable or proper ? Under this head it is alleged, that in certain parishes in tlie south, tithe-farmers have oppressed, and do oppress his Majesty's subjects, by various ways of extortion; by assuming to themselves, arbitrarily and cruelly, powers which the law does not give; and by making an oppres- sive use of those powers which the law has put into their hands. And this the parishioners are ready to verify on oath. To these evils are we to add another, which is the principal source of them all — the uncertainty of tithe — the full tenth ever must be oppressive, A tenth of your land, your labour, and your capital, to those who contribute in no shape whatsoever to the produce, must be oppression. They only think other- wise, who suppose, that every thing is little which is given to the parson ; that no burden can be heavy, if it be the weight of the parson ; that landlords should give up their rent, and tenants the profits of their labour, and all too little. But uncertainty aggravates that op- pression : the full tenth ever must be uncertain, as well as oppressive; for it is the fixed proportion of a fluctu- ating quantity ; and unless the high-priest can give law to the winds, and ascertain the harvest, the tithe, like that harvest, must be uncertain. But this uncertainty is APPENDIX. 367 aggravated by the pernicious motives on wliicli tithe frequently rises and falls. It frequently rises on the poor. It falls in compliment to the rich. It proceeds on principles the reverse of the gospel : it crouches to the strong; and it encroaches on the feeble, and is guided by the two worst principles in society, servility and avarice, united against the cause of charity, and under the cloak of religion. Here let me return to and repeat the allegations, and call on you once more to make the enquiry. It is alleged, that in certain parishes of the south, tithe has been demanded and paid for what, by law, was not liable to tithe ; and that the ec- clesiastical courts have countenanced the illegal exaction ; and evidence is ofFei'ed at your bar to prove the charge on oath. Will you deny the fact? Will you justify the fact ? Will you enquire into it ? It is alleged, that tithe-proctors, in certain parishes of the south, do exact fees for agency, oppressive and illegal; and evidence to prove the charge is offered on oath. Will you deny the fact ? Will you justify the fact ? Will you enquire into it? It is alleged, that in certain parishes of the south, tithes have been excessive, and have observed no equity for the poor, the husbandman, or the manufacturer; and evidence is offered to prove this charge on oath. Will you deny the fact ? Will you justify the fact ? Will you enquire into it? It is alleged, that in certain parishes of the south, ratages for tithes have greatly and unconscionably in- creased ; and evidence is offered to prove this charge on 368 APPENDIX. oath. Will you deny the fact? Will you justify the fact ? Will you enquire into it ? It is alleged, that in certain parishes of the south the parishioners have duly and legally set out their tithe, and given due notice ; but that no persons have attended, on the part of proctor or parson ; under expectation, it is apprehended, of getting some new method of re- covery, tending to deprive the parish of the benefit of its ancient right, that of setting out their tithe ; and evidence is offered to prove this charge on oath. It is alleged, in certain parishes in the south, tithe- farmers have oppressed, and do o})press his Majesty's subjects by various extortions, abuses of law, or breaches of the same ; and evidence is offered to prove this charge on oath. Here, once more, I ask you, will you deny the fact ? Will you justify the fact ? Will you enquire into it? This being the state of the church in certain parishes in the south, I wish to know, what, in the mean time, within those districts, becomes of religion? Here are the parson and parish at variance, about that which our religion teaches us to despise — riches. Here is the mammon of unrighteousness set up to interrupt our de- votion to the true God. The disinterested, the humble, the apostolical character, during this unseemly contest, — what becomes of it ? Here are two powers — the power in the tenant to set out his tithe, the power in the church to try the matter in dispute by ecclesiastical ju- risdiction; two powers vested by the law in the respec- tive hands of church and laity, without any effect but to torment one another. The power of setting of tithe APPENDrx. S69 does not affect to defend the tenant against unconscion- able demands ; and, if attended with combination, se- cures him against any effectual demand whatsoever. The power of trying the matter in dispute by ecclesiastical jurisdiction, does not take place except in case of sub- traction, and when it does take place, is a partial trial. Thus, as the law now stands, combination is the de- fence of laity, and partiality of the church. The equity in favour of the tiller of the soil (a very necessary equity indeed) becomes a new source of dis- turbance ; because the parties are not agreed what that equity should be ; the countryman not conceiving that any one can, in equity, have a right to the tenth of his land, labour, and capital, who does not own the land, nor plow, nor sow, nor reap, nor contribute in any de- gree whatsoever to the produce. The tithe-farmer having no idea, but that of iniquity, on the subject ; the parson, perhaps, conceiving, that a tenth on tillage is a bare compensation in equity for what he deems the greatest of all iniquity, your vote of agistment. Thus the two parties, the parson and his parish, the shepherd and his flock, with opposite opinions, and mutual powers of annoyance in the parts I have alluded to, seem to go on in a rooted animosity and silent war. Conceive the pastor, looking over the hedge like a spy, to mulct the extraordinary labours of the husband- man. Conceive him coming into the field, and saying, " You are a deserving husbajidman ; you have increased the value of your field by the sweat of your brow : Sir, I'll make you pay me for that." Or, conceive a dialogue VOL. I. B B 370 .APPENDIX. between a shepherd and one of his flock — " I will take your tenth sheaf; and if you choose to vex me, your tenth hen, and your tenth egg, and your tenth goose," (not so the apostles) ; or conceive him speaking to his flock by parable, and saying, " die ass stopped with his burden, and his burden was doubled, and still he stopped, and his burden was still increased ; and then the perverse animal, finding his resistance in vain, went on ; so even you shall find resistance but increase your load, until the number of acts of parliament shall break your back." These pastoral discourses, if they have taken place, however well attended, will not, I fear, greatly advance the cause of the faithful ; particularly in a country where the numbers remain to be converted to the Protestant religion, not only by the superior purity of its doctrine, but by the mild disinterested peace-making spirit of its teachers. Will not the dignitaries of the church interpose on such an occasion ? How painful must it have been to them, the teachers of the Gospel, and therefore enemies to the shedding of blood, to have thought themselves under the repeated necessity of applying to parliament for sanguinary laws : the most sanguinary laws on your statute books are tithe-bills ; the Whiteboy act is a tithe- bill ; the riot act is a tithe -bill. How painful to those dignitaries must it be to feel themselves in the office of making perpetual complaints asainst their own flock ; and to be conscious, in some instances, of having jaded and disgusted the ears of the court, by charges against the peasantry ! How APPENDIX. 871 paiiifijl to them to have repeated recourse to the miHtary in their own Ccise; and to think tb.at many of their sinful flock, but their flock notwithstancUng, were saved from the indiscriminating edge of the sword by ecclesiastical zeal, tempered and withheld, and in some cases disap- pointed by the judicious mercy of military command ! We, the laity, were right in taking the strongest measures the last session. It was our duty to assert ; but of these churchmen, it is the duty, and, I suppose, the nature, to deprecate, to incline to the mild, the meek, dispassionate, and the merciful side of the ques- tion ; and rather to prevent, by moderation, than punish, by death. Whether these exactions were in themselves sufficient to have produced all the confusion of the last year, I know not ; but this I do believe, that no other cause had been sufficient without the aid of exaction : if exaction had not existed, the south would not, I believe, have been convulsed. A controverted election alone could not well have been an adequate cause : the objects of attack must, in some cases, have been something more than partisans; and the flame spread by contagion : the first torch must have been an accident ; but the people were rendered combustible by- oppression. The Whiteboy should be hanged ; but I think the tithe-farmer should be restrained. I would inflict death on the felon, and impose moderation on the extortioner; and thus relieve the community from the offences of of both. But do not let us so far mistake the case, as to suppose it a question between the parson and the Whiteboy ; or that the animosity which has been excited is confined to felons. No, it is extended far more gene- B B 2 S'JQ APPENDIX. rally ; it is extended to those who have been active in bringing those felons to justice; and men will appear at your bar v^^ho have suffered under excess of demand, and have acted to restore peace, the instrument of quiet, and the objects of exaction : let us therefore examine the subject, and, having already with great propriety taken the most decisive steps against the insurgent, let us enquire now into the cause of the outrage, and see whether exaction might not have had some share, at least, in the origin of it ; and if so, let us strive to form some plan which may collect the riches of the church, without repetition of penal laws or of public disturbance. In forming a plan for the better provision of the church, the first thing to be considered is the quantum of provision ; the second consideration is the fund from whence that provision is to arise : the quantum of pro- vision, should be the usual net income, on an average of years; except in some parishes of great exaction, I say usual, because I would not materially alter their allowance; I say on an average of years, because I would not make recent encroachment property ; I say net, because when the public shall become the tithe- proprietor's agent, the public will have a right to the benefit of the agency. That their income is discoverable I affirm ; and I af- firm it under the authority of their own act, and their own practice. Without going farther back than the last session, you will find the compensation act requires the person suing on the act to make a discovery of his customary income, and, in some cases, discovery of his ratages for three years back, on oath ; it requires that he ArPENDIX. 373 should, ill his affidavit, set forth that the valuation of 1786 is made as near as possible the ratage of the three former years ; it requires that where a valuation of the tithe of 1786 could not be made, a valuation of the customary tithe for three years back should ; it enables the court to appoint persons to enquire into the fact, and call for parties and papers, and thus establishes two principles, which were denied; that the annual income of benefices is discoverable, and that the particular ratage is discoverable also. I might go back to the act of Henry VIII., which requires that a commission should be directed to enquire into ecclesiastical be- nefices, and report the value of the same; and I might further adduce the act of William III., which gives to the ecclesiastical person who builds, two-thirdg of the sum expended ; which sum is to be ascertained by a certificate; which certificate, by the 12th of George II., shall contain an account of the clear yearly income of the benefice. After these instances, 1 hope no man will deny that the income of the clergyman is discover- able ; particularly when the compensation act of the last winter requires such a discovery to be made on the oath of the parson. That act was supported by the whole bench of bishops : it was probably framed with their advice and sugges- tions. They would not require their clergy to report on oath what they themselves conceived, or had main- tained to be impossible ; as if it was impossible to make a discovery for the purpose of commutation, but for the purpose of compensation, easy and obvious. Thus, when I affirm the discoverability of the clergyman's income, I have not only the authority of the church, but its oath. The net return should be the parson's perpetual income,. B B 3 574 APPENDIX. subject to the exception stated above. But, in order to guard him against the fluctuation of currency, I would fix the value of that income in grain : it should be the value of so many barrels of wheat, to be estimated every seven years by the corn office, or the clerk of the mar- ket, who now quarterly strikes the average value of corn throughout the kingdom. Thus, his income should not be absolutely either corn or money ; but the value of so much corn to be paid in money. As to the fund fi'om whence these receipts should arise, that fund should be a charge on the barony, to be levied like other county charges. This method is easy ; for it is already in use. The head constable should be the parson's collector ; and the county should be his security. To this I know the objection, and it is an objection which can be best answered by those who make it. It will be said, that this scheme prevents the division of unions, and the increase of poor livings, and the repairs of the church ; and then you will answer your own argu- ment; but a fictitious and remote vahiation for the benefit of the rich clergy has been made of these cha- ritable funds, frustrating the purpose of the charity, equally to the neglect of the church and poor : the luxviry of the priest has usurped the funds of the poor and of the church, then sets up against both a miserable modus, and prescribes in this instance against charity and reliiiion. 'to' However, if the dignitaries of the church will not, par- liament may answer this argument, and provide for more clergy, as occasion shall permit. You imparish by act of APPENDIX. 375 parliament ; with proper provision, when you see the necessity, you may divide. The care of rehgion is placed no where better than in the legislature. Popery will tell you, that when it was entirely left to the care of the priesthood, it w^as perverted and destroyed. But if difficulties should be made to this plan, and in order to give the church the growth of the country, there is another plan, a modus : let every article which shall be sidiject to tithe be set forth in a tithing table, with certain ratages annexed ; let those ratages be taken, and set forth in the tithing table as now equivalent to so many stone of bread corn. Let the act provide, that there shall be a septennial valuation of bread corn, by the clerk of the market, or the proper officer. Let there be exemption for the rudiments of manu- facture, and a saving for all local customs and exemp- tions ; such as potatoes in most places, hay in several, and such like. In order to form this modus, which should be pro- vincial, not universal, let four provincial committees be appointed. You will see a precedent in your journals. On the report of these provincial committees form your bill. In your bill you will probably think proper to give agistment, not in addition to, but in aid of ratages on tillage. If once you appoint committees, the parson and pa- rish will both come forth with information ; and from both you will collect the present ratages, and be enabled ]3 B 4 376 APPENDIX. to make a rule. In forming this rule, you will probably think proper to exempt the poor man's garden in the south from the tithe of potatoes. The true principle with respect to your peasantr}^, is exoneration ; and if I could not take the burden entirely oiF their back, I would make that burden as light as possible : I would exempt the peasant's cow and garden from tithe. If I could not make him rich, I would do the next thing in my power ; I would consider his poverty as sacred, and vindicate against an extortioner the hallowed circle of his little boundary. The loss to the church might be easily compensated; particularly if you give agistment or head-money in case of tillage. I would also relieve the north from small dues, as I woidd relieve the poor of the south from the tithe of potatoes ; and where these small dues had long obtained, I would make the parson compensation, either by giving him head-mone}^, or by making an estimate of these dues, and raising them in the way of other county chareems to take for granted a claim of superstition founded VOL. r. c c 86 APPENDIX. on the pretence of charit}-. I know there are many sub- sequent acts (which are called tithe-bills) intended to assist the collection of customary, not full tithe, and, in that confidence, granted by parliament. I am not now enquiring whether the claim to the full tithe is legal, but whether the application of that tithe, for the sole purpose of supporting the priest, is an usurpation. And I have shewn you, that tithe was a charity, subject to the sup- port of the poor in the first place, and the priest in the last. I have shewn you that tithe does not stand on the delicate ground of private property. I have shewn you, that it was a trust, converted into a property by abuse ; which abuse the legislature may controul, without sacri- lege or robbery. If a right to the full tenth is yet in- sisted on, give them the full tenth, on the principles on which alone they at first ventured to demand it, subject to a poor-rate ; let the trust be executed ; let widows and orphans share it ; let the house of industry and the vari- ous hospitals and infirmaries share it ; let the house of God (now a hovel, repaired at the expence of parliament, though, by the canon law, it should be repaired by the priesthood,) share it; let the poorer order of pea- santry share it. If the clergy will insist on taking the full tithes of his potatoes ; if they take the staff out of his hands, they must carry the peasant on their shoulders. Thus, the clergy insisting on the summum jus, and the laity on the summa justitia, the former would not be richer by the change. I should, on such a change, con- dole with the church and congratulate the poor; and I should applaud the discretion, as well as the moderation, of these excellent pastors who did not rake up from the ashes of superstition this claim to the tenth, but were satisfied with competence and character, and brotherly love, and a right to live by their ministry, a right set *1$ * . APPENDIX. 387 forth 'ill ihe Gospel, and which nature had set forth, even though the Gospel had been silent. " Impracticable, — impracticable, — impracticable," — a zealous divine will say : any alteration is beyond the power and wisdom of parliament, above the faculties of man, to make adequate provision for 900 clergymen who despise riches ! Were it to raise a new tax for their provision, or for that of a body less holy, how easy the task ! how various the means ! But when the pro- posal is to diminish a tax already established, the impos- sibility glares us in the face, of a measure so contrary to our practices both in church and state. If you think the property of the church divine, and that when you affect it at all, you touch on holy things, then call the proposal and call the reformation profane, sacrilegious, blasphemous, but never call the proposal impracticable. How are the clergy paid in Holland ? by fixed salar3\ How in Scotland ? by fixed salary ; never less than 1000 marks, nor more than 3000. Are the clergy in Scotland deficient ? Has history no obligation to the clergy of that sagacious people ? How are the civil, military, and revenue establishments paid in Ireland ? by fixed salary. You have not found it difficult, but fatally facile to create such salaries. In these last twenty years, you have created not a few ; and you have done this for laymen, to whom salary was the principal object ; but for the church, where the provision, the temporal consideration, is but secondary, a moderate means for the support of the great duty of prayer, to suppose the regulation, or even moderation of that pro- vision impracticable, annexes a most transcendent im- portance to what is gross and temporal, and a compar- e c 2 388 APPENDIX. ative insignificance to what is pure and spiritual, and throws a certain complexion of grossness and inabstinence on certain devout and most learned controversialists. If, indeed, you conceive what is given in commutation should be equal to the tenth of your produce, the im- practicability is admitted. While I admire the enormity of the suggestion, I acknowledge the impracticability of the execution of it. I believe the legislature will never agree to give them the tenth, either in commutation or tithe : both are impracticable. Such a claim, and such a commutation, that 900 men should have the tenth of the property of 3,000,000 ; (and you will find we are much more;) the custom of the country, the modus of several places, your own vote of agistment, and above all, the interest of religion, and of frugal piety forbid it. Give them the tenth, and you give away your religion ; but if you mean a commutation is not imprac- ticable, I have shewn you how their present livings can be discovered, and can be commuted ; the value is not an impenetrable mystery ; there is hardly a parish in which you could avoid to find twelve respectable parishioners who would ascertain their ratages, and their income; nor is there a clergyman who could not tell you, nor a tithe-farmer, nor a tithe-proctor, nor a bishop; for he, in his traffic with the minister about translation, generally gives in a schedule of the value of the livings in his diocese. I think it unnecessary to add, that there are several acts, and one of the last session, requiring such a discovery, and the ratages in certain cases to be made on oath. Men are apt to argue as if an error in that discovery might be fatal ; as if the essence of religion was in the APPENDIX. 3S9 quantnm of solid food; and as if 30/. a year more, or SOL less, would be a diff'erence decisive as to the propa- gation of the Gospel. The inaccuracy that may attend the various ways of information on this subject cannot be much ; and, if it shall, in a small degree, lower the great livings and raise the small, cannot be fatal. I should not wish to give the ministers of the Gospel less than they have at present, except in some ca«es of hardship and extortion ; but suppose some of them did receive less, would the church fall? The importance and the difficulty of accuracy on this question are both over-rated. This objection of impracticability, therefore, against a commutation is but a pretence, and against a modus is not even a pretence : or is it impracticable to enquire into the present ratages, and on that information to proceed? If so, if this step is impracticable, the abuses that grow out of tithes are incurable ; and then you ought to reject the system of tithe as an incorrigible €vil, and recur to another mode of paying your clergy ; — if a modus be impossible, a commutation is necessary. We are too apt to conceive public cases impracti- cable: every thing bold and radical, in the shape of public redress, is termed impracticable. I remember when a declaration of right was thought impracticable ; when the independency of the Irish par- liament was thought impracticable ; when the establish- ment of a free trade was thought impracticable ; when the restoration of the judicature of our peers was thought impracticable ; when an exclusion of the legislative c (^ 3 SyU APPENDIX. power of the council was thought impracticable ; when a limited mutiny-bill with Irish articles of war in the body of it, and the declaration of right in its front, was thought impracticable; when the formation of a tenantry-bill for securing to the tenantry of Ireland their leasehold-interest was thought impracticable, — and yet those things have not only come to pass, but form the lease on which we stand. Never was there a coun- try to which the argument of impracticability was less applicable than Ireland. Ireland is a great capacity not yet brought into action ; much has been civilized, much has been re- claimed ; but something is to be redressed : the lower orders of the people claim your attention : the best hus- bandry is the husbandry of the human creature. What I can you reclaim the tops of your mountains, and cannot you improve your people ? Every animal, except the tiger, (as I have heard,) is capable of being reclaimed; the method is to feed, to feed after a long hunger : you have with your own peasantry began the process, and you had better complete the experiment. Inadequate, inadequate I interposes the advocate for exaction ; the rich will intercept the relief intended by parliament. This objection supposes the condition of the peasantry to be poor in the last degree ; it supposes that condition to arise from various complicated causes ; low price of labour, high price of land, number of absentees, and other causes ; and it refers the poor to the hangman for regulation, and to Providence for relief; and it justifies this abandonment of one part of the commimity by a cri- APPENDIX. 391 mination of the other f on a surmise that the upper orders of men in this country are complete extortioners, and would convert abatement of tithe into increase of rent, and thus intercept the justice of parliament. Here I must absolutely and instantly deny the fact ; the landlords are not as described ; expensive frequently, I allow ; but an hospitable, a humane and affectionate people ; the genius of the Irish nation is affection ; the gentle- meit are not extortioners by nature, nor (as the tithe- farmer is) by profession. In some cases they set their land too high ; in many not ; and on that head, they are daily becoming more reasonable. Your magistracy-bill, your riot-act, your compens- ation-bill, what becomes of the authority of these laws with the lower orders, if you argue them into a convic- tion, that the landlords of Ireland, that is, the landed interest who passed these acts in their collective capa- city, are, in their individual capacity, but so many ex- tortioners ? Look to the fact, to their leases for thirty-one years, or three lives ; not like bishops' leases : look to their lands ; not like church lands. See the difference between the lands of laymen, who have an interest in the inheritance, and of churchmen, who have only the esprit de corps, that is a false and barren pride in the succession : look to the landlord's conduct ; they passed a tenantry bill ; the bishops rejected the lease-bill, and have' ahnost uniformly resisted every bill that tended to the improvement of the country, if by the remotest possibility, their body could be in the smallest degree prejudiced in the most insignificant of its least warrant- able pretensions ; but if still you doubt, call forth the tenantry, and put the question to them; do not take your opinion from the oppressor ; ask the oppressed ; c c 4 30'-^ APPENDIX. and they will tell you what we know already, tliat liie great oppression is tithe : the middle-man's overreaching, as in many instances I acknowledge he is, (compared to the tithe-farmer's,) is mercy. Suppose him as desti- tute of compunction, he is not armed with the same powers of torture, though he had the same genius for oppression ; he has not his own tribunals ; nor can he put the countryman to expense of attending on Vicar's Courts, nor of watching his crop, nor of delaying his harvest-home, nor of notices, nor summonses, nor of drinking at his ale-house, while the value of the tithe is computed, nor of all the train of circumstances and charoe with which the uncertain dues of the church are now collected, at the expense of the morals of the people. But if the charge was founded in fact, it is not argu- ment, and has nothing to say to the question, where simi- lar exertions of oppression, if morally probable, are rendered legally impossible. The landlord cannot, in consequence of exemption from tithe, raise his rent on his lessees during the continuance of the term. Now do you imagine that it is the cottier only, and not the lessee also, that complains of tithe? they are both ag- grieved ; the tenantry of Ireland are aggrieved; the lessee, therefore, must be relieved by the plan ; and the cottier cannot be equally oppressed, because he agrees for his rent before he sows his crop, but pays his tithe afterwards ; the latter of course must be, and the former cannot be, a charge for his extraordinary labour. Rent is a charge on land; tithe on labour; the one defi- nite, the other indefinite ; they are not controvertible ; increase your rent under any pretence, still it must avoid the essential evil of tithe ; the evil of being- arbitrary; a tax rising with industry. Suppose the APPENDIX. 393 severest case ; one pound an acre advanced rent for potatoe-ground ; the cottier by extraordinary labour works himself comparatively out of his rent, and into a greater tithe ; thus extortion by rent is but a cruel com- pulsion on extraordinary labour ; but tithe a penalty. There are certain arguments which, leading to some- thing absurd and nonsensical, are stricken out of the tribe of logic; those arguments should meet the same fate, which lead to something that is worse than either nonsense or absurdity, to cruelty and to oppression. Of this tribe is the reasoning I now combat ; an argimient which would leave the landlords without character, to leave the common people without redress. I condemn the premises ; but I abhor the conclusion. What ! should the clergy oppress the poor, because the landlords (as is alleged) do so already ? because the latter (as is alleged) overvalue land, shall the church overcharge labour ? because the peasant pays (as is alleged) sometimes five or six pounds per acre for his land, shall he pay twelve or twenty shillings to the parson for his potatoes ? The premises of this argument impeach the character of the higher order, and the conclusion would steel one order against the other; and the result of such reasoning would leave you (what it affects to find you) wicked and miserable; and common sense and Christian charity lift up their hands against such an opprobrious premise, and such a pernicious conclusion. If such were the state of our country, the church should interpose and give a good example, and not follow a bad one : they should say, We will take the lead ; we will, ourselves, moderate the exactions which oppress the poor; if the rich take the advantage, and frustrate our pious o94 APPENDIX. intentions, we are not in fault ; the character of religion is free ; her ministers do not participate the plunder of the people. The vote of agistment left the measure I propose practicable, and made it necessary ; by that vote you sent the parson from the demesne of the gentleman into the garden of the cottager ; by that vote you said you shall not tax us : it remains for you to say, you shall not tithe the poor unconscionably ; but going as far as that vote and no farther, you declare to the proprietors of tithe, " Tithe the poor as you please, provided we do not pay you," and this is what some mean by their zeal in the support of the church : this is the more ex- ceptionable, when you recollect, that of the poor who pay your clergy, there are numbers of a different reli- gion, who of course receive no consideration from your clergy, and must pay another clergy. The Protestant interest may require that these should contribute to the Protestant establishment; but the proportion, and the manner iu which you now make them contribute, redounds but little to Protestant honour, either in church or state. Aye ! but will you encourage tumult ? Will you reward the White-boy ? Will you give a premium to disturbance? Sir, do not advert so lightly to the state of this country, nor pass so superciliously over general distress, as to think that the Right-boy, or White-boy, (or by whatever other vagrant denomination tumult de- lights to describe itself,) are the only persons who suffer by the present state of tithes : there are two other de- scriptions who are oppressed by them ; those who did nothing in the late disturbance, and those who took part to quell them. Can you suppose so many would have been neutral in the suppression, if they had not been a APPENDIX. 395 parfy to the oppression ? And have you complained of the languor of your magistracy, and the supineness of the Protestant country gentlemen, without adverting to the reason ? The tumult was confined ; but the sufFerino- was extensive. But there is another body of men who suffer, — they who took part to suppress. Have they any pretensions ? Do you deny that they are sufferers ? they will come to the bar and prove it; they will prove two things very material, very worthy your attention, — their merit and their sufFerino-. <^ Yes, but will you innovate? Admit this argument, and we sit here to consecrate abuses. The statutes of mortmain were innovations ; the suppression of mona- steries, innovation; the reformation, innovation; for what is the Protestant religion but the interposition of parliament, rescuing Christianity from abuses intro- duced by its own priesthood ? Institutions divine and human corrupt by their na- ture, or by ours ; the best human institution, the British constitution, did so corrupt, that at different periods it was anarchy, oligarchy, despotism, and was restored by parliament. The only divine institution we know of, the Christian rehgioa, did so corrupt as to have become an abomination, and was rescued by act of parliament. Life, like establishments, declines ; disease is the lot of nature ; we oppose its progress by strong remedies ; we drink a fresh life at some medicinal fountain, or we find a specific in some salubrious herb; will you call these restoratives innovations on the physical economy ? 396 APPENDIX. Why then, in the pohtical economy, those statutes which purge the pubhc weal, and from time to time guard that firm animal, man, against the evils to which civil society is exposed, the encroachments of the priest and the politician ? It is then on a false surmise of our nature, this ob- jection : we live by a succession of amendment : such is the history of man ; such, above all, is the history of religion, where amendment was ever opposed ; and those cant expressions, the supporting church and state, were ever advanced to continue the abuses of both. On those occasions, prejudices, fi'om the ragged battlements of superstition, ever screened innovation. When our Elizabeth established the Protestant reli- gion, she was called an innovatress. When Luther began the Reformation, he was called an innovator ; nay, when Herod and the high-priest Caiaphas (and high-priests of all religions are the same) heard that one had gone forth into the multitude preaching, gathering the poor like the hen under her wing, saying to the rich. Give unto the poor, and look for treasures in heaven ; and take heed that your hearts be not overcharged with luxury, surfeit, and the cares of this life ; I say, when Herod and the high-priest saw the author of the Chris- tian religion thus giving comfort and countenance, and hope to the poor, they were astonished ; they felt in his rebuke of their own pomp, and pride, and gluttony, and beastliness, great innovation ; they felt in the sublimity of his moral, great innovation ; they saw, in the extent of his public care, great innovation, and accordingly they conspired against their Saviour as an innovator ; and, under the pretence of supporting what they called the APPENDIX. 397 church and state, they stigmatized the redemption of man ; and they crucified the Son of God. If we were desirous to retort on the church the arou- o ment of innovation, its own history is fertile : what is the idea of property in the church but an innovation ? their conversion of property from the great body of the Christians to their own use ? innovation ; their tem- poral power ? innovation ; their application for do- nations equal to a tenth ? innovation ; the conversion of these donations to their own use? innovation; their excluding the fabric of the church, as well as the poor, from the benefit of those donations ? innovations ; their various tithe-bills ? innovation ; their riot-act ? inno- vation ? their compensation-act ? innovation. To judge of the objection of innovation against my plan, see what that plan does not do ! It does not affect the doctrine of our religion ; it does not alter the church-establishment ; it does not affect the constitution of episcopacy. The modus does not even alter the mode of their provision ; it only limits the quantum, and limits it on principles much less severe than that charity which they preach, or that abstinence which they inculcate. Is this imiovation ? Moderation, innovation ! As if the Protestant religion were to be propagated in Ireland, like the influence of a minister, by bribery; or like the influence of a county-candi- date, by money ; or like the cause of a potwalloping canvasser, by the weight of the purse; as if Christ could not prevail over the earth unless mammon took him by the hand ! Am I to understand, that if 39S APPENQIX. vou give the parson 1 2s. in the acre for potatoes, and 105. for wheat, the Protestant rehgion is safe on its rock ; but if you reduce him to 6s. tlie acre for potatoes and wheat, then Jupiter shakes the heaven with his thunder, Neptune rakes up the deep with his trident, and Pluto leaps fi'om his throne ? Arguments and ap- petites which depart from Christian purity are best illustrated by heathen mythology. See the curate ; he rises at six to morning-prayers ; he leaves company at six for evening-prayer; he baptizes; he marries; he churches ; he buries ; he follows, with pious offices, his fellow-creature from the cradle to the grave ; for what immense income ? what riches to reward these inesti- mable services ? Do not depend on the penury of the laity. Let his own order value his deserts; 50/. a year; 501. for praying, for christening, for marrying, for churching, for burying, for following with Christian offices his fellow-creature from cradle to grave ! so fru- gal a thing is devotion ; so cheap religion ; so easy the terms on which man may worship his Maker ; and so small the income, in the opinion of ecclesiastics, sufficient for the duties of a clergyman, as far as he is connected at all with the Christian religion, I think the curate has by far too little ; bloated with the full tenth, I think the church would have abun- dantly too much. The provision of the church is not absolute property, like an estate, but payment for a duty ; it is a salary for prayer, not the gift of God, independent of the duty. Pie did not send his Son to suffer on earth, to establisli a rich priesthood, but to save mankind. It is the do- APPENDIX. 899 nation of the laity, for the duty of prayer. The la- bourer deserves higher for doing his duty ; he is paid not as a high-priest, but a pastor in his evangelic, not his corporate capacity. When he desires to live by his ministry, he demands his right; when he desires the tenth of your wealth, he demands your right; and he presumes riches to be the right of the church, instead of supposing what he ought, the Gospel to be the right of the people ; and competency for preaching the Gos- pel, not luxury, to be the right, as it is the profession of the church. A provision for the minister of the Gospel, on its own principles, keeping clear of the two extremes, poverty on one side , and riches on the other : both are avocations from prayer; poverty, which is a struggle how to live, and riches, w^hich are an occupation how to spend. But of the two extremes, I should dread riches ; and above all, such indefinite riches as the tenth of the industry, capital, and land of 3,000,000, would heap in the kitchens of 900 clergymen : an impossible proportion ; but if possible, an avocation of a very worldly kind, introducing gratifications of a very tem- poral nature ; passions different from the precepts of the Gospel ; ambition, pride, and vain glory. Add to this requisition of the tenth, the litigation which must attend it, and the double avocation of luxury and law : con- ceive a war of citations, contempts, summonses, civil bills, proctors, attornies, and all the voluminous train of discord, carried on at the suit of the man of peace — by the plaintiff in the pulpit, against the defendants, his congregation. It is a strong argument against the tenth, that such claim is not only inconsistent with the nature of things, but absolutely incompatible with the exercise of the Christian religion. Had the apostles advanced 100 APPENDIX. among the Jews pretensions to the tenth of the pro- duce of Judea, they would not have converted a less perverse generation ; but they were humble and in- spired men; they went forth in humble guise, with naked foot, and brought to every man's door, in his own tongue, the true belief; their word prevailed against the potentates of the earth, and on the ruin of the barbaric pride and pontific luxury, they placed the naked ma- iesty of the Christian religion. This light was soon put down by its own ministers ; and on its extinction a beastly and pompous priesthood ascended ; political potentates, not Christian pastors ; full of false zeal, full of worldly pride, and full of glut- tony ; empty of the true religion. To their flock op- pressive ; to their inferior clergy brutal ; to their king- abject ; and to their God impudent and familiar : they stood on the altar as a stepping-stool to the throne, o-losing in the ear of princes, whom they poisoned with crooked principles and heated advice, and were a faction against their king when they were not his slaves ; ever the dust under his feet, or a poignard in his heart. Their power went down ; it burst of its own plethory, when a poor reformer with the Gospel in his hand, and in the inspired spirit of poverty, restored the Christian religion. The same principle which introduced Chris- tianity guided reformation. What Luther did for us, philosophy has done in some degree for the Roman Catholics ; and that religion has undergone a silent re- formation ; and both divisions of Christianity, unless they have lost their understanding, must have lost their ani- mosity, though they have retained their distinctions. APPKNDIX. -101 Tlie priesthood of Europe is not now what it once was ; their religion has increased as their power has di- minished. In these countries particularly, for the most part, they are a mild order of men, with less dominion and more piety ; therefore their character, for the most part, may be described in few words — morality, en- lightened by letters, and exalted by religion. Such are many of our parochial clergy ; with some exceptions however, particularly in some of the disturbed parts of the kingdom. Such some of the heads of the church. Such the very head of the church in Ireland, — that comely personage, who presides over a vast income, and thinks he has great revenues ; but is mistaken, being, in fact, nothing more than the steward of the poor, and a mere instrument in the hand of Providence, making the best possible distribution of the fruits of the earth. Nay, there are of the church some superior to the prejudice which, on the subject of tithes, may be expected. Of all institutions, says Paley, adverse to cultivation, none so noxious as tithe; not only a tax on industry, but the in- dustry that feeds mankind. It is true, the mode of pro- viding for the church is exceptionable, and in some parts of Ireland has been, I apprehend, attended with very considerable abuses ; these are what I wish to submit to you. You will enquire whether, in some cases, the de- mands for tithes have not been illegal, the collection of them oppressive, the excess of demand uncharitable, and the growth of it considerable and oppressive; whether in all cases the tithe-farmer has been a merciful pastor, the tithe proctor an upright agent, and even the vicar himself a most unbiassed judge. In this enquiry, or in forming some regulations from this enquiry, you will not be withheld by the arguments VOL. I. D D 40^ APPENDIX. of pride, bigotry, and prejudice ; that argument, which, reflecting on God, maintains the sacred right of exac- tions; — that other argument, which, reflecting on parha- ment, denies your capacity to give redress ; — that other argument, which, reflecting on human nature, supposes that you inflame mankind by redressing their grievances ; — that other argument, which traduces the landed interest of Ireland as an extortioner, and belies one part of the community, to continue the miseries of the other : — an argument of calumny; an argument of cruelty. Least of all, should you be withheld by that idle intimation stuffed into the speech from the throne, suggesting that the church is in danger, and holding out, from that awful seat of authority, false lights to the nation, as if we had doated back to the nonsense of SacheverePs days, and were to be ridden once more by fools and bigots. Parliament is not a bigot. — You are no sectary, no polemic. — It is your duty to unite all men, to manifest brotherly love and confidence to all men : the parental sentiment is the true principle of government. Men are ever finally disposed to be governed by the instru- ment of their happiness. The mystery of government, would you learn it ? — Look on the gospel, and make the source of your redemption the rule of authority ; and like the hen in the Scripture, expand your wings, and take in all your people. Let bigotry and schism, the zealot's fire, the high- priesf s intolerance, through all their discordancy, tremble, while an enlightened parliament, with arms of general protection, over-arches the whole community, and roots the Protestants' ascendancy in the sovereign mercy of its nature. Laws of coercion, perhaps necessary, certainly severe, you have put forth already; but your great engine APPENDIX. 403 of power you have hitherto kept back: that engine, whicli the pride of the bigot, nor the spite of the zealot, nor the ambition of the high, nor the arsenal of the con- queror, nor the inquisition, with its jaded rack, and pale criminal, never thought of: the engine, which, armed with physical and moral blessing, comes forth and over- lays mankind by services; the engine of redress. — This is government, and this the only description of govern- ment worthy your ambition. Were I to raise you to a great act, I should not recur to the history of other na- tions; I would recite your own acts, and set you in emulation with yourselves. Do you remember that night when you gave your country a free trade, and with your hands opened all her harbours ? That night when you gave her a free constitution, and broke the chains of a century ; while England, eclipsed at your glory and your island, rose as it were fi'om its bed, and got nearer to the sun ? In the arts that polish life, the inventions that accommodate, the manufactures that adorn it, you will be for many years inferior to some other parts of Europe ; but, to nurse a growing people, to mature a struggling, though hardy community ; — to mould, to multiply, to consolidate, to inspire, and to exalt a young nation ; — be these your barbarous accomplishments ! I speak this to you, from a long knowledge of your character, and the various resources of your soul ; and I confide my motion to those principles, not only of jus- tice, but of fire, which I have observed to exist in your composition, and occasionally to break out in a flame of public zeal, leaving the ministers of the crown in eclipsed degradation. It is therefore I have not come to you, furnished merely with a cold mechanical plan, D D 2 404 APPENDIX. but have submitted to your consideration the living grievances ; conceiving that any thing in the shape of oppression, made once apparent — oppression too of a people you have set free — the evil will catch those warm, susceptible properties which abound in your mind, and qualify you for legislation. APPENDIX. 405 PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH OF IRELAND. Page 160. We should have stated in the text, the '^Presbytery" of Antrim, instead of the " Synod" of Antrim, as having gone over to Socinianism ; and we should have added the Synod of Munster. However much we may regret the defection of so large a portion of the Presbyterian Church of Ireland, we cannot bring ourselves to regret, as some pious and orthodox persons do, the enactment of Mr. Smyth's bill. We think the bill was nothing more than just and proper; and that the law, as it stood before, was disgraceful to a free country, and unworthy of a Christian people. The sums granted yearly by government to the Pres- byterian clergy, are — To Presbyterians - - £ 8,697 To seceding do. - 4,034 Others - - - 756 £ 13,487 Our objection is not to the amount of the grant, but to the principle — especially in Ireland. In this country there should be no pensioned clergy; or all should par- take equally of the bounty of the state. It would be far better that the former principle were adopted. D D 3 401) APPENDIX. POPULATION. — Page 176. It appears, from the last accounts, that after the termination of the wars in Ireland, and when that coun- try had enjoyed a short repose, the population was, in 1672, about _ - - 1,000,000 In 1733, or in about sixty years, it had doubled - - - - 2,000,000 It is now, 1822, about - - 7,000,000 That the country is abundantly competent to the maintenance of this, and a much greater number of people, is evident, from the fact of its immense export of corn, cattle, and provisions of all kinds. It is not the population, but the poverty of the country, that is to be lamented. That this is the case, is also evident, from the fact, that the country was equally unsafe, and the people as poor, miserable, and discontented, fifty years ago, with a population of only three millions, as now, with a population of seven. Witness the series of White-boy acts, for half a century. There need be no legislation upon the subject of population. It will ad- just itself. The population is too great, not for the country, but for its capital. Poverty is the disease of Ireland. The task of the legislator is not to regu- late or circumscribe the numbers of the people, but to give them employment, and open up new sources of industry, We think this is within the power of a wise government. The j)eople are not wretched because of their numbers ; but their numbers have certainly been APPENDIX. 407 Increased because of their wretchedness. A beggar is careless of the number of his offspring: as he is with- out hope, so he is without providence. The case of the Irish peasant is nearly the same. Every thing in Ireland is to be done anew. Employ- ment is to be found, — capital is to be created, — the poor are to be educated, — the middle classes in- structed, — and the higher orders reformed. These things will not be done without great efforts of the ablest men and minds in the empire ; but all these things are within thepower of a vigorous and enlightened government. The colleges and institutions for the pro- motion of knowledge in the country should be attended to and improved, and others established. Taxation should be almost abolished in Ireland; the revenue put on a new footing, particularly as to distillation ; intercourse with Great Britain encouraged, by removing every restraint and impediment ; absenteeism discouraged strongly, and pointedly, and by vigorous measures ; and, above all, a sound and good education offered at the door of every cottage in Ireland — an education free from all reasonable objection, in which enlightened Catholics could concur ; and in which it should be made clearly manifest, that the religion of the people was a matter with which the state had no concern. Let these things be done; and you may leave popu- lation to itself. Without these, not all the learning or legislation which may be employed upon population, will a,rrest its course, or its disastrous result. We have known some gentlemen of taste and hu- manity make some efforts to improve the condition of D D 4 408 APPENDIX. their tenantry, and particularly their houses. Tliey- were desirous to have picturesque cottages and Arca- dian villages on their estates in Ireland. The laurel and arbutus were planted in little plots on each side the door ; and the monthly rose was taught to hang its de- licate flowers on the mud wall. All was rural and beau- tiful for a while ; but in a little time the roses languished, and the green shrubs pined and withered. The pig and her litter made an inroad upon the picturesque ; and there was a rapid return to the old condition of dirt and negligence. In some few cases, this appearance of prettyness has been preserved, by expensive and un- wearied efforts on the part of the proprietor. We would not discourage these efforts : but we would recom- mend to begin, not with the houses, but with the heads of the people. Let them be well instructed ; and they will themselves take care that their cottages are neat. Even in producing picturesque effect, the hand of the most cultivated taste will be surpassed by the simple devices of the educated peasant. The population of the three chief towns is given in the last returns as follows : Dublin 186,276 Cork 100,535 I^imerick 66,042 In the provinces : Leinster 1,785,702 Munster 2,005,363 Ulster 2,001,966 Connaught 1,053,918 6,846,949 APPENDIX. 409 Connected with the subject of population, is that of agricukure. The agriculture of Ireland improved some- what din-ing the war ; but the improvement by no means kept pace with the advance of prices. Rents and tithes advanced too rapidly upon the heels of high prices to admit this. There started too, at the same time, a new race of middle-men : the old were men who had inherited old leases for long terms — the new were more properly land-jobbers. These gave high rents for large tracts of land, and let it out to cot- tiers to be destroyed. Such of these men as are not yet swept away, keep up the old rents, and take the produce of the land from their under-tenants at the old prices. For all that the tenant sells, they allow him in account double or treble what he receives ; and they charge him a rent in proportion. The object of this curious process is to keep up the rent of the land, in expectation of some change w^iich should realize it. — The effects of " transition" upon agriculture in Ireland, w^as to throw it back amazingly. Prices fell rapidly ; rents, tithes, and taxes, slowly : the little capital of the coun- try was consumed, and the lands could not be cultivated : added to this, despair seized upon the people ; and they had no heart to improve. Every year the lands are worse and worse tilled. In many places they have not been manured for some seasons, — and still the depression goes on. In a short time there will be no rent paid in Ireland. Poor lands, cultivated as they now are, will not pay tithe and taxes, and the expense of cultivation, and feed the farmer, and pay rent also. The expense of labour alone, even such as it is in Ireland, is more than the produce of the soil. The tithe of the gross produce, in most poor lands, is more than the rent. J>ands which pay 125. an acre rent, pay frequently 155. 410 APPENDIX. tithe. After this (which is first paid), there is nothing for the landlord. What remains will not pay the wages of labour and maintain the family of the farmer. Those who talk of improvement, are not perhaps aware, that the lands though tilled are every year becoming more and more impoverished ; — that the farming capital of the country is exhausted and worn out ; — that the very seeds of improvement have perished, and are perishing. But the people must be fed. They are not unreasonable. They are willing, where they are yet peaceable, to do all that can be done. But unless they are relieved speedily, they will make bold efforts to rid themselves of parsons, landlords, — every thing. It will cost much less to settle the question of tithes, and give up the taxes, than to subdue them. The expenses of one campaign would be more than the revenue for some years; and the lives lost would be equal to the value of many parsons. The destruction of capital in Ireland has been much greater, comparatively, than in Great Britain. In Eng- land there was a mass and accumulation of wealth, which could bear much reduction. In Ireland there was no stock that could bear the touch of adversity. When this fearful visitation came, the country was swept bare. The produce of land is much more, in proportion to the capital employed upon it, than to its extent. If this be true, as we are persuaded it is, the lands in Ireland will soon cease to produce more than will feed the farmers and their labourers. The Edinburgh Review for June, which we have seen since our work went to press, in an article upon Ire- land, states it to be one of the great grivances of the country, that the wages of labour is regulated by the APPENDIX. 411 priee ot" potatoes. But this is the case only in some degree. The price of hibour is not, perhaps, at present too low in Ireland. " Their wages," says the Reviewer, "' being regulated by the price of potatoes, will not buy them wheat or barley, or oats ; and whenever, therefore, the supply of potatoes fails, it is next to impossible they can escape falling a sacrifice to famine." — " Owing to the failure of the last potatoe crop, a very large pro- portion of the peasantry of Clare, Limerick, and other counties bordering on the Shannon, have been reduced to a state little short of absolute famine. But there was, notwithstanding, a continued exportation of oats and other grain from Ireland to this country^ up to the very moment, when the contributions of government and of the })ublic were applied to purchase corn for the pea- santry. The price of potatoes rose in Limerick, in the course of a few months, from \\d, to 6d. and 8c?. a stone, being a rise of 400 or 500 per cent. ; while the price of corn sustained no material increase — none, at least, to prevent its being sent to the overloaded markets of Eng- land ! It is obvious, indeed, that to whatever ex- tremity the peasantry of Ireland might have been re- duced, they could not have relieved themselves by pur- chasing corn. In a period of scarcity, men cannot go from a low to a high level ; they must always go from a higher to a lower. But to the Irish this is impossible ; they have already reached the lowest point in the de- scending scale ; and dearth is to them attended with all the horrors of famine !" We have quoted this article largely elsewhere, in order that we might bear our humble testimony to the just and enlightened views of the Reviewer. We quote this to point out an error. The potatoe is thought to 4hi APPENDIX. be a greater grievance in Ireland than it really is. We must bear testimony in its behalf, that it is not guilty of all the mischief here charged upon it. There was a pretty general failure of the potatoe crop ; and potatoes rose in consequence. The}^ might rise considerably over l^d. a stone, before they would become dearer, as food, than wheat or oats, even at the low price these bore. When the price of potatoes came to a level with that of wheat, the latter was bought and used very generally by labourers in employment. It is a mistake to think, that the price of labour was so low, (being regulated by the price of potatoes,) as not to have permitted the peasantry to consume wheat. The vvriter of this employed some labourers during the scarcity, and paid them no more than what they had usually received ; and all these used wheat every day, and paid for it without difficulty. They would have preferred potatoes, had these been cheaper ; because they would then have more money to spare for other purposes. Wheat was also used extensively by the labourers throughout a large portion of the county of Cork, with which we happen to be acquainted. What then was the cause of the distress ? — Want of employment. The labourer relies upon his potatoe garden [every Irish labourer has a potatoe garden] for a portion of the year, when he is unemployed ; he will even subsist upon this the whole year, if he can find no occupation. It was not, therefore, food that was want- ing, but employment. And to supply this, the govern- ment and charitable funds were most wisely directed. In many cases, the fund being small, the wages given was under the average price ; but it was sufficient to enable the labourer to purchase wheat. It is true, that corn was exported during the distress; but there was enough to export, and enough also to answer the de- 10 APPENDIX. 413 mand occasioned by the failure of potatoes. In some cases, we believe, grain was sent to Ireland ; this was injudicious and unnecessary. If the Irish poor could find employment, they could very well afford to pur- chase wheat, whenever their potatoes failed them. Em- ployment is all they want, and all they ask for. How is this to be procured for them? Only, as we conceive, by lightening the burdens upon the middle and upper classes of society, and thereby giving them the means of employing the poor. Let this be done; and we may be assured the potatoe will be found very harmless. Capital also must be found to supply the ruinous destruction of it which has taken place in Ireland^ In the reign of the first James, and long before and after, we find numerous bodies of English settlers establishing themselves in the most remote districts of Ireland ; building towns and villages, and introducing manufactures and industry. These towns and villages have mostly gone to decay during the late war ; and their manufactures have perished. Those should be rebuilt, and these revived. Government should find means without delay. What could be done in the reign of James could be done now, with more facility. There is peace in Ireland, and more capital in England, as well as a greater population. It has been repeatedly said, that reasonable prices for agricultural produce would be brought back by the reduction, which would necessarily take place in the quantity of land under wheat, and in the poor lands going out of cultivation. But it appears now sufficiently evident, that we cannot expect relief firom this process, either in arresting population, or bringing back fair 414 APPENDIX. prices. The cultivation of wheat has rapidly increased in Ireland during a series of years ; while the price has continued to decline. The fall of prices has had no effect upon the progress of population ; while this has, every year, contributed to the fall. Every year more land is broken up for tillage ; because an increasing population must be employed. The wheat crop, be the price what it may, is the only means of paying rent. The popula- tion do not consume wheat — they produce it. No lands have gone out of cultivation in Ireland. We are very far from despairing of our country. We do not deplore the population, nor mourn over the potatoe : these were not discovered to be calamities until lately. Why ? Because until very lately the population had full employment. In ordinary times, the task of finding employment for the people ought to be left to themselves ; but these are no ordinary times ; and imtil a season of danger like the present pass by, great exer- tions should be made to find for the people new employ- ments, in place of those old ones which have been with- drawn. We are persuaded this could be done. By- and-by the machine of society will right itself, and that intense application to the wants and circumstances of the people, which is now indispensable on the part of their rulers, may be withdrawn. Increase qf Population in the present age,* The recent increase of our numbers, so greatly beyond that of any former age, is, sometimes, ascribed to the ex- * Low, on the Present State of England. APPENDIX. 415 citement attendant on war, and to the encouragement afforded to early marriages in the case of so many classes ; the agricultural, the manufacturing, and the mercantile. But while we admit this to have been of very powerful effect, we must put in the opposite scale the serious injury to population arising from war. When to this we add, that since the peace the 7'atio of increase is not less than during the war, we are led to at- tribute tlie augmentation of our numbers to causes more permanent and satisfactory; to the preservation of the lives of children by vaccination, &c. In France, the increase of population, formerly so slow as hardly to yield an addition of 30 per cent, in a cen- tury, may now be computed at somewhat more than twice that proportion. In Germany, the degree of increase is probably not very different from that of France. Of Russia we have as yet no accurate returns. Spain, Italy, and the South of Europe generally, are also on the increase ; but in a ratio which, when we consider the general indolence and poverty of the lower orders, is probably slower than that of France. And in the countries subject to the Turks, the frequency of the plague, and the pernicious effects of bad government, are likely still to counteract the na- tural tendency of population to increase. 41G APPENDIX. Sfafisfical Tabic of Europe^ in 1822. Countries. Norway, includingFin- I mark j Sweden, Norway, and ^ Swedish Lapland... \ Sweden, distinct from ^ Norway and Swe- > dish Lapland ) Russia, in Europe ,. Scotland, the High- ^ lands distinct from > the Low Country... ) Turkey in Europe, not S ascertainedjbutpro- > bably not above .... 3 Poland, before thePar- \ tition \ Poland, the present Kingdom, distinct from the Provinces incorporated with \ the Austrian, Rus- sian, and Prussian Dominions Sardinia, Island of ... Spain Denmark, exclusive of Faroe and Iceland Hanover Portugal SwitzerlandjtheTwen- ^ ty-two Cantons .... 5 The pecuniary burden is very small, but the Swiss are liable also to military service. Wales The Austrian Empire, includingLombardy and Austrian Poland ■:] Total Popu- lation. 950,000 J,600,000 2,G00,000 57,000,000 Persons to a Square Mile. 2,850,000 520,000 11,000,000 1,600,000 1,300,000 3,700,000 1,750,000 740,000 29,000,000 6 10 25 25 50 8,000,000 50 15,000,000| 50 60 57 60 75 90 90 91 96 112 TaxeSjTithes, and public Burdens generally. Proper-- tions of such Bur- dens per Htad. £ s. (1. 1 ,500,000 18,000,000 5,000,000 1,200,000 6,000,000 1,500,000 900,000 5,000,000 430,000 10 O 9 9 O 12 6 1 8,000,000 8 8 O 11 16 14 O 16 5 O 12 4 APPENDIX. 417 Countries. The Prussian dominions Bavaria Sicily, Island of Dominions of the King ' of Sardinia, viz. Piedmont, part of the Milanese, the Genoese Territory, Savoy, and the Island of Sardinia .. States of the Church .. The Neapolitan domi- nions, including Si- cily ..... France, including Corsica Scotland; the Low Countries, distinct from the Highlands Great Britain, exclu- sive of Ireland, (the taxes computed ac- cording to the value of money on the Continent) Wirtemberg Saxony Great Britain and Ire- > land collectively ... 3 The Netherlands Austrian Italy, or the J) Lombardo - Vene- > tian kingdom ) Ionian Islands'Republic . England, distinct from ) Wales 3 Ireland Holland, Province of ... WestFlanders East Flanders Europe, collectively, about Total Popu- lation. 10,500,000 .3,600,000 1,655,000 4,000,000 2,450,000 6,700,000 .30,700,000 1 4,500,000 1,400,000 1,200,000 21,500,000 5,-300,000 4,000,000 230,000 11,600,000 7,000,000 760,000 630,000 610,000 200,000,000 Persons to a Square Mile. 100 120 132 148 150 154 150 150 165 170 170 182 214 219 230 232 237 362 420 554 58 faxes, Tithes, and public Burdens generally. £ 7,000,000 2,500,000 2,200,000 900,000 2,700,000 37,000,000 40,000,000 1,000,000 900,000 44,000,000 8,000,000 2,000,000 100,000 36,000,000 4,000,000 180,000,000 Propor- tions of such Bur- dens per Head. £. s. d. 13 4 14 O 11 O 7 6 8 1 4 O 2 2 15 O 14 4 15 O 2 1 10 O O 10 O 8 11 18 O VOL. I. £ £ 418 APPENDIX, MANUFACTURES. — TRADE. We shall do no more here than quote some observa- tions from the Edinburgh Review, whicli Xi^e knotv to be well founded and just. " It is a fortunate circumstance that it is in the power of government to adopt such measures as will, by re- ducing the price of a vast variety of useful and agreeable commodities, afford new motives to stimulate, and new comforts and conveniences to reward, the industry of the peasantry of Ireland. To effect this most desirable ob- ject, they have only to repeal those oppressive and ab- surd taxes which have deprived the bulk of the people of the few comforts they were already possessed of, and of the possibility of obtaining others, without adding a single shilling to the revenue. We shewed in our last number, that notwithstanding taxes, estimated to produce three millions^ had been imposed in Ireland since 1807, the revenue of that year amounted to 4,191,950/., while that of 1821 only amounted to 3,844,889/., being a de- crease of 347j061/. instead of a rise of three millions ! We also gave a list of thirteen principal articles, including spirits, tea, sugar, tobacco, coffee, wines, &c., the duties on which have been greatly increased, at the same time that the revenue, and still more the quantities consumed, have fallen off in an extraordinary degree. There can be no question, indeed, that this unparallelled and ruinous increase of taxation, is one of the main causes of the pre- sent squalid and abject poverty of the Irish peasantry. 18^ Tlie enormous addition which it has made to the price of almost every article of luxury, if we may give that name to teas, sugars, spirits, &c., has rendered them either wholly unattainable by the labourer, or attainable only from the smuggler. A double injury has thus been done to the country. A principal incitement to laborious perseverance and honest industry, has been taken away ; and an irresistible inducement has been held out to the adventurous and the profligate, to embark in the illegal and destructive trade of smuggling. ' The iron grasp * of poverty has paralysed the arm of the tax-gatherer, * and set at nought the vaunted omnipotence of parlia- ' ment. You have taxed the people, but not augmented ' the supplies ; — you have drawn on capital, not on ' income ; — you have, in consequence, reaped a harvest ' of discontent and dissaffection, instead of a harvest of ' revenue.' * " This monstrous system must be abandoned. There are good grounds for thinking that the revenue will gain, — at all events it cannot possibly lose anything, by the repeal of every tax imposed since 1807; while the fall that would be thereby occasioned in the price of most of those comforts on which the peasantry set a very high value, would infallibly rouse them to enterprise and activity. The public taste would thus be elevated ; the labourers would gradually begin to acquire higher no- tions of what is necessary for their comfortable and decent subsistence. Their artificial wants would begin to be equally clamorous, and much more numerous than those of mere necessity ; and persev^erance and animation * Sir John Newport's Speech, 22d April, 1822. i: E 2 4W APPENDIX. would, in consequence, be given to all the operations of industry. " Nor is it of less importance, with a view to the peace and tranquillity of the country in general, that tlie opi- nions of the labourers, respecting what is necessary for their comfortable and decent subsistence, should be ele- vated. When a revulsion takes place in any of the great departments of industry, or when the crops fail, the labourer who smokes tobacco, and who drinks beer, porter, and gin, can, by parting with his luxuries, obtain a sufficient supply of necessaries. But a man who is divested of all artificial wants — who is confined to mere necessaries — who is never seen in an alehouse, or to- bacconist's, has nothing to part with. What then must he the fate of those who are placed so very near the verge of existence ? and what must be the fate of the richer class of citizens, if there be any such amongst them, in a season of scarcity ? Do you suppose that it is possible for human beings, placed in such dreadful cir- cumstances, to be quiet, orderly and peaceable, and to respect the rights of others ? Do you suppose that those who have no property will submit to be starved, with- out previously attempting to seize on the property of others ? Whatever may be said to the contrary, famine - and the virtues of patience and resignation are not, you may depend upon it, on very companionable terms. Much, undoubtedly, of the crime and bloodshed, with which Ireland has been so long disgraced and deluged, n)ust be traced to the oppression and helotism of the people. But it is impossible to deny, that a good deal has also been owing to the recklessness and despair oc- casioned by their abject and wretched poverty. The rights of property can never be respected by those who APPKNDIX. 4'^1 are themselves utterly destitute of all property, and of the means of acquiring it. Such persons must rather re- gard them as bulwarks thrown up to secure the interests of a few favourites of fortune, or perhaps of their op- pressors, than as contributing to the public welfare. But if we lighten the pressure of that grinding and unpro- ductive taxation, by which the industry of the people has been over-loaded and paralysed, we shall certainly enable them to add to their comforts, and to accumulate wealth ; and they will thus be brought to acquire a direct and tangible interest in the support of those great funda- mental principles, which they now regard either with indifference or aversion, and which the slightest provo- cation is sufficient to induce them to attack. " It has been the fate of Ireland to suffer nearly as much injury from the injudicious attempts that have of late been made to encourage and promote her industry, as from those that were formerly made to fetter and re- strict it. The history of the Irish countervailing and protecting duties, affords a striking example of the truth of this remark. To facilitate the establishment of manufactures in Ireland, and, as it was also alleged, to prevent those already established from being ruined by the unrestricted competition of the English manufac- tures, it w^as agreed at the treaty of the Union, that an ad valorem duty of 1 per cent, should be charged, for a period of twenty years, on English cotton or woollen goods, hardware, &c. when imported into Ireland ; and it was at the same time agreed, that an equal duty should be charged on the Irish goods imported into Eno-land. This measure has been productive of in- calculable injury to both countries; but especially to Ireland. It appears from papers laid before the house of commons, that the entire value of the cotton wool E E 3 422 APPENDIX. and twist imported into Ireland, in 1819, amounted to only 221,000/. Their importation has not increased since; and the whole Irish cotton manufacture is not supposed to employ, at this moment, more than from 3000 to 5000 hands. Those who are acquainted witb the real state of the case, would be disposed to con- clude, that there must in such circumstances be an im- mense importation of British cotton goods into Ireland^ In truth, however, Jersey or Guernsey are about a» good markets for them. From a return made by the Dublin custom-house to an order of the house of com- mons, it appears that the value of the Englisli cotton goods imported into Ireland in the year ended the 5th January, 1821^ was as follows : Calicoes, ^8,817 5 O Muslins, 22,4^4 17 11 Cottons, other than calicoes and muslins, 168,550 13 11^ £ 199,862 16 10| " This sum, when added to the value of the cottons manufactured in Ireland, makes so small a total con- sumption as to be almost incredible, when compared with the immense consumption of cottons in this country. We do not presume to say that this trifling consumption is altogether to be ascribed to the influence of the pro- tecting duties ; but it is impossible to doubt that they have had a very considerable effect in contracting the demand for cottons. The duty, though nominally only ten per cent., adds at least tisoenty or t*wenti^-Jive per cent, to the selling price of English goods. The few capi- talists in Ireland, the outlay of money required to pay the duties, and the delays and vexatious regidations of the APPENDIX. 423 custom-house, really secure a monopoly of the business of importing English goods ad valorem to a few rich mer- chants, and suppress that *widely-extended and most bene- Jicial irajjic*, which would otherwise be carried on by the retail dealers, pedlars, and even labourers, who are daily passing between the two countries ; and thus, by raising the price of the goods, and throwing the trade into a few hands, the protecting duties, instead of pro- moting the cotton manufacture of Ireland, have pre- vented the introduction of a taste for cottons, and been the most effectual bar to its progress. The injury done to the English manufacturer by this perverse policy is great ; but still it is trifling when compared to that which it has done to the Irish people. Destitute as Ireland is of good coal, improved machinery, and experienced workmen, it was the height of error to suppose that a protecting duty of ten per cent, could enable her to withstand the competition of the English in the pro- duction of cottons. The real effect of the duty has not been to promote the Irish cotton manufacture ; for that, as we have just seen, can hardly be said to exist at all ; but to narrow the market of Ireland to the English ma- nufacturers, by adding 20 or 25 per cent, to the price of their goods ; and by this rise of price to hinder the Irish peasantry from adopting the dress and modes of life of * The writer of this article was not, perhaps, himself aware how very extensively this is the case, and what poverty and distress has been occasioned in Ireland by the ruin and decay of small traders, and the pernicious monopoly which the state of intercourse be- tween England and Ireland has thrown into the hands of large ca- pitalists. As the manufactures of Ireland declined and disappeared, it became necessary to import from England ; and the small traders were thrown out of the trade, to the ruin of thousands, and the general loss of the country. E E 4 4^i4 APPENDIX. their English neighbours. The imposition of such re- strictions on the trade between independent and even hostile nations, could not be defended on any principle of sound policy ; but when laid on the trade between different parts of the same empire, they do not admit of the shadow of an apology. To endeavour to protect England or Ireland against the competition of the other, is plainly absurd. We might, on the same grounds, endeavour to protect Kent against the competition of Sussex. England has many natural and acquired faci- lities for carrying on the cotton manufacture ; Ireland has none. Why then should we attempt to force a por- tion of her scanty and insufficient capital into, what must be to her, a disadvantageous employment ? And why should we force her inhabitants to rest satisfied with rags and nakedness, and to deny themselves the use of a cheap, commodious, and comfortable article of dress, because it is manufactured in Lancashire and not in Leinster? Our statute-book affords many choice specimens of legislative drivelling, and of officious and ruinous interference with the industry of individuals and the public; but we believe the impolicy and ab- surdity of the Irish protecting duties to be quite un- rivalled. " The countervailing duty of ten per cent, on Irish manufactures imported into England is equally per- nicious. Had Irish manufactures been freely admitted into England since the Union, the lowness of wages in Ireland would, it may be fairly presumed, have been sufficient to induce English capitalists to attempt esta- blishing the coarser kinds of manufactures, and such as are principally carried on by manual labour, there ra- ther than in England. But the countervailing duty of APPEMDIX. 4-^5 ten' per cent, has fully balanced any advantage that might have been derived from the cheaper labour of Ireland, and has effectually excluded her manufactures from the great and contiguous market of Britain. " We have already said, that it was stipulated by the act of union, that the Irish protecting duties, and the countervailing duties on Irish goods imported into Eng- land, were to cease in twenty years, or on the first of Janu- ary 1821. But to the surprise and mortification of every one acquainted with the nature and operation of these duties, they have since been continued for t^soenty years to come ^ or to 1841. Surely, however, it is impos- sible that a measure which goes far to annihilate the trade in manufactured goods between the two great divisions of the empire, can be permitted to operate for other twenty years. Parliament has been unwarily entrapped into an approval of measures fatal to the prosperity of Ireland and prejudicial to Britain ; but it would be a libel on that body to suppose, that they will persist in supporting them for a long series of years, after their ruinous tendency has become palpable and obvious. " Besides the repeal of the protecting and countervail- ing duties, and the reduction of the custom and excise duties, it would be of the greatest advantage to Ireland, were the reduced excise duties collected in such a way as would permit the business of distilling, brewing, malt- ing, tanning, &c. to he conducted on a small scale. Such was the case in Ireland thirty years ago. But the per- sons who were then intrusted with the management of the Irish revenue, determined, whether from ignorance or corruption has never been clearly ascertained, to 426 APPENDIX. place all works subject to excise duties in the hands of large capitalists. To effect this object, laws were passed which resfulated the manner in which duties should be charged, in such a way as rendered it impossible for any one who had not a large capital to continue in the trade. The smaller class of distillers, brewers, tanners, &c. were, in consequence, driven from their business, and mostly ruined; and many of the remoter districts of the country were thus deprived of a market for their produce, and could not, without great difficulty, obtain supplies of spirits, beer, leather, &c.* A strong tempt- ation was thus created to engage in the trade of illicit distillation — a temptation which the present exorbitant duties, and the system of townland fines, have ren- dered irresistible. In 1807? the commissioners ap- pointed to enquire into the fees, emoluments, &c. of public offices in Ireland, in their Report on the Excise, calculated that one-third part of the spirits consumed in Ireland was illegally distilled : to put a stop to this illegal traffic, and to check the prevalence of those predatory and lawless habits which always mark the character of the smuggler, the simple and obvious plan was to have reduced the duty on legally distilled spirits, and to have collected them in such a way as would have broken down the monopoly of the large distillers, and enabled smaller capitalists to set up distilleries in the remote and less frequented districts of the country. But ministers resolved to go to work differently. Instead of attempt- ing to put down illicit distillation by rendering it unpro- fitable, they resolved to suppress it by the strong hand of * The Rev. Mr. Chichester's Letter to a British Member of Par- liament, p. 94. We can add that this led to what has proved a great calamity in Ireland, the decay and ruin of the small towns in remote districts. APPENDIX. 4^7 power — to make the vengeance of the law counteract a crime, all the temptations to indulge in which were left unimpaired ! In pursuance of this insensate scheme, they devised a system of unequalled injustice and oppression — a system which involves both the innocent and the guilty in one common ruin. Besides the penalties in- flicted on delinquents, including traiisportatioji fm^ seven years^ the novel expedient was resorted to, of imposing a heavy fine upon every parish, townland, manor-land, or lordship, in which an unlicensed still, or part of a still, should be found ! There is no defence against the fine, unless the defender can prove that the articles were not found, or that they were left for the purpose of sub- jecting him to the fine. The most perfect good faith is of no avail ; and many instances have occurred of magis- trates, who have devoted their whole time and energies to the suppression of illicit distillation, being completely ruined by the fines imposed on their estates. " No one can regret that this infamous scheme has to- tally failed of its object. Instead of illicit distillation and smuggling being suppressed, they are now become almost universal. * A large proportion of the peasantry have been trained to live in a state of open and habitual contempt of the laws, and to brave their utmost ven- geance. The tendency of such a state of things to pro- mote secret combinations, outrages, and even rebeUion, is too striking and obvious to require being pointed out. In most parts of Ireland, no excise-officer dare venture to seize on a still, if he is not supported by a company of soldiers ; and bloody and ferocious contests are, in * It was stated in the debates in parliament in 1819, that 5352 in- dividuals had been committed to prison in the course of the preceding six years, for illicit distillation, of whom neai'Iy 4000 were convicted.^ 428 APPENDIX. consequence, daily taking place between the military and the smugglers. ' The distillery system of Ireland ' seems/ to use the words of a most accurate observer, ' to have been formed for the perpetuation of smug- ' gling and anarchy. It has culled the evils of both ' savage and civilized life, and rejected all the ad- * vantages which they contain. The calamities of ' civilized warfare are in general inferior to those pro- ' duced by the Irish distillery laws ; and I doubt ' whether any nation of modern Europe, which is * not in a state of actual revolution, can furnish in- ' stances of legal cruelty commensurate to those I have ' represented.'* " The Earl of Bless ington, one of the Irish representa- tive peers, and generally a supporter of ministers, in his Letter to the Marquis Wellesley, corroborates all that we have here stated, respecting the oppressive and inju- rious operation of the Irish distillery laws. ' I have ' raised,' says his Lordship, ' my voice again and * again in opposition to this system : but hitherto ' without effect. It is a system as injurious to the mo- ' rals of the people, both civil and military, as it is * tyrannical and unprofitable.' p. 62. " We have already demonstrated that the reduction of the Irish excise duties on spirits, beer, and other articles, so far from occasioning any diminution of revenue, would be among the most effectual means that could be devised for increasing it. " But supposing we were wrong in this conclusion, ought so detestable a system of oppression and abuse^ * Rev. Mr. Chichester's Letter. APPENDIX^ 429 so fi'uitful a source of crime, outrage, and rebellion, to be maintained, because it puts a few hundred thousand pounds into the coffers of the treasury ? If Mr. Van- sittart decHnes answering this question in the affirmative, why does he not immediately introduce a bill for the re- duction of the duties ? He may depend upon it, he will never, otherwise, be able to relieve the country from the great and constantly increasing evils of illicit distil- lation and smuggling." We have borne our testimony to the truth and justice of these observations. It is melancholy to reflect, that Ireland has been governed, for the last thirty years, in utter ignorance of what was passing in that country, — of the habits, prejudices, and character of the people, and in total disregard of their means, wants, and necessities. In the remote districts of the country, where formerly there were flourishing villages, shops, tan-yards, mills, &c. &c. upon a small scale, where beer was brewed, and spirits distilled, and the people were comfortable and contented, there is now a very different scene presented to the eye of the observer. He sees only ruined houses, decayed and deserted villages, without trade, tan-yard, brew- house, mill, or any symptom or means of industry or comfort. As the people increased in numbers, the Excise drew away from them the means of support and decent subsistence. They have been converted into outlaws, smugglers, and banditti. And the low murmur of preparation for some desperate and hopeless enterprise is heard throughout the country, on every hill, in every ruined village, and in all those cheerless dens of dirt and misery called cottages in Ireland. 4^0 APPENDIX. Woollen Maiuifacture. The vigorous efforts of lord Strafford to destroy the woollen manufacture of Ireland, not having fully suc- ceeded, were followed up in the reign of William III. by more decisive measures. By the 9th and 10th W. 3. c. 40. the exportation of fuller's-earth and scouring clay to Ireland was prohibited under severe penalties, with a view to embarrass the manufacture. On the 9th of June 1698, the Lords presented an address to the king (William III.) stating, " That the o-rowing manufacture of cloth in Ireland, both by the cheapness of all sorts of necessaries of life, and goodness of materials for making all manner of cloth, doth invite his subjects of England, with their families and servants, to leave their habitations to settle there, to the increase of the woollen manufacture in Ireland, which makes his loyal subjects in this kingdom very apprehensive that the farther growth of it may greatly prejudice the said manufacture here ; and praying, that His Majesty would be pleased, in the most public and effectual way that may be, to declare to all his subjects of Ireland, that the o-rowth and increase of the woollen manufacture there hath long and will be ever looked upon with great jealousy by all his subjects of this kingdom." On the 30th June, the Commons presented a similar address; and his Majesty was pleased to say in answer: " Gentlemen, I will do all that in me lies to discourage " the woollen manufacture in Ireland." api>j:ndix. i31 These addresses were speedily followed by an act, 10 and 11 Will. 3. c. 10., prohibiting the exportation of wool, yarn, new drapery, or old drapery, from Ireland, on pain of forfeiting ship and cargo, and 500/. for every offence ; no acquittal in Ireland being allowed to bar a prosecution in England. The permission to export the woollens of Ireland to England, w^as met by a duty on importation into the latter country, tantamount to a prohibition. By the 19th Geo. 2. c. 12. the importation of glass into Ireland from any place but Britain, and the export- ation of glass from Ireland to any place xvhatsoever, were prohibited, on pain of forfeiture of ship and cargo, and other severe penalties. There were similar acts upon the subject of hops and other commodities. 7 Geo. H. c. 19. Newenham's View of Ireland, p. 104. There is a curious coincidence in the fate of Ireland, as regarding her manufactures, her religion, and her ancient race of gentry. All these were violently plucked up ; and others forcibly substituted in their places : and this happened more than once. The woollen manufac- ture sustained a long persecution, and was at length finally extirpated. In place of this the linen manufac- ture was substituted. Her ancient church, after long- struggles with Rome and Britain, was utterly subdued ; and the religion of Rome established in its stead, by the strong hand of England. Her ancient gentry, after a contest of 500 years, submitted to the like fate ; and their possessions passed to new proprietors. But the church of Rome was not long triumphant, when she found herself assailed by her own champion. So, fre- 43^ APPENDIX. quently, the new race of proprietors were not long planted, when they were plucked up, and fell, like the Desmond, before the fickle tyranny which had made them great. The linen manufacture, more fortunate, stood its ground, and lived to see better days, and a better spirit in Britain. Al'PENDIX. ^I.^l iThe Third Report of the Commissioners appointed by mi Act of the Ist and 2d Geo. IV. c. 37. ; — to inquire into the Collection and Manage7nent of the Hevenue arising in Ireland^ and. into certain Departments of the Re- venue arising in Great Biitain. In the division of the general measares announced in our preceding Report, as calculated to effect a funda- mental improvement in the system of the Irish revenue, the second head was intended to embrace " the removal of the obstructions to the commerce between Great Bri- tain and Ireland, arising out of the system of duties and drawbacks to which it is now subjected, by such regula- tions as might assimilate the commercial intercourse be- tween the two islands to the communications between the several ports of Great Britain, and, at the same time, aiFord the means of effecting a considerable reduction in the revenue establishments of Ireland." In the present Report, we shall submit to your Lord- ships our suggestions under that head ; and point out the inconvenience to the merchant, the disadvantage to the community in Ireland, and the increased expense on the public, arising out of the unnecessary continuance of the present practice in the collection of these duties ; and suggest such alterations as will tend to the removal of these evils, by the introduction of a system more simple, more economical, and more conducive to that entire community of interests, and that unrestricted in- tercourse between the two countries, which the Act of Union was intended to establish. VOL, I. F F 434 APPENDIX. In the following observations upon this subject, we shall not, however, include the whole of the revenue regulations connected with the cross Channel trade ; the protecting duties, or, as they are frequently called, the " Union" duties, will be the subject of a separate re- port. With that exception only, our remarks and recommendations will apply to all the duties collected, and drawbacks paid, on the transfer of merchandize^ whether foreign or domestic, between Great Britain and Ireland; and also to the regulations under which such merchandize may be exported from one country to the other, under bond, previously to the payment of duty. It may be of importance to observe, that the impo- sition of the countervailing duties is not to be consi- o dered in the light of a measure by which the disposable revenue of the empire w^as to be augmented ; but as form- ing a part of a system of regulation, established for the purpose of adjusting the interests of the two countries, in the collection of the rates of taxation with which they were respectively charged upon particular and equally taxed articles of consumption, (whether of foreign or domestic production,) on their importation fi'om one country to the other. With a view to effect this object, it will be found that the regulating principle of these duties is : First, with respect to foreign and colonial goods, duty paid, transferred from one country to the other; that the import duty is collected upon such transfer in the same manner as upon an origiuiil importation from abroad ; the duty paid in the country where they were first imported, being drawn back upon the proof of such second payment. APPENDIX. iS.J Secondly, with respect to domestic manufactures sub- ject to internal duties ; that such duties are drawn back on exportation from either country, and the internal duty payable upon the like article in the other country is charged upon them on their arrival. These important duties and drawbacks on domestic manufactures attach upon all articles subject to inter- nal taxation in either country. They are, however, cal- culated not only to secure by that means to each coun- try, the duty therein imposed upon all such articles consumed within its limits, whether manufactured at home or brought from the other; but they are, at the same time, intended to maintain, in the interchange of manufactures, an equality between the manufactures on either side, notwithstanding the inequality of the duties. The import duties thus imposed, in respect only of such internal dnties as would be contravened by the free importation of the articles subject to them, may properly be distinguished as the countervaihng duties ; although that term is sometimes indiscrimi- nately applied to all the duties drawn back and paid again. It is obvious, that such a complicated mode of col- lecting and securing duties between different parts of the same kingdom, must be fraught with much incon- venience and embarrassment to that internal trade which ought to be as free as possible ; and that it must, likewise, occasion considerable expense to the public, by the number of officers required to carry it into exe- cution. It is also injurious in another respect, inasmuch as it is an unavoidable source of fraud upon the revenue; F F 2 43(> APPEND I.X» for, it is well known to all persons conversant with the collection of the public income, that re-payments of duty, in the shape of drawback, afford occasions for fraudulent practices, which neither the strictest regula- tions, nor the utmost vigilance of the officers, are suffi- cient wholly to counteract. We have received evidence of the existence of such fraud to a great extent in the cross Channel trade. So long, however, as separate accounts were kept by the two countries, and their revenues were administered by separate treasuries, the principle by which the mode of collecting the foreign import duties is regulated was indispensable; although it might, perhaps, have been somewhat simplified in its application. If the duties upon foreign imports had been equal in both countries, the adjustment of the interest of each, in the duties upon foreign articles transferred from the one to the other, might have been effected without the actual collection of the duty a second time, and the payment of a corresponding drawback. It might have been treated as a matter of account between Great Bri- tain and Ireland, and settled annually by a reference te- the custom-house returns.- This method would have affordeil the means of avoid- ing a considerable proportion of the embarrassment, the fraud, and the expense, to which we have alluded. It appears to have been contemplated in the 6th article of the Union, as an alternative under the existence of separate exchequers. The continued inequality in the rates of the import duties, upon almost every article of APPENDIX. 437 the same description (althougli the differences were ge- nerally trifling) was, probably, the reason why it was not resorted to. One measure, however, has been adopted since the Union, which has tended materiallv to alleviate the ill effects of these payments and re-payments of duties and -drawbacks. We allude to the extension of the ware- housing system to Ireland, by the act of the 48th and 50th Geo. III. These have afforded great facilities for the transfer of some articles of principal importance in the foreign import tmde through Great Britain to Ireland, and from port to port in Ireland, under bond, previously to the payment of the duty. But even in the extension of these facilities to Ireland, some distinctions ha\'^ been allowed (we believe accidentall}^) to remain, which still leave the Irish merchant in a less advantageous si- tuation than the trader in Great Britain. East India goods, for example, which may be warehoused and transferred from port to port, subject to the restrictions and regulations of the warehousing acts in England or Scotland, are not allowed the same privilege hi Ire- land. The merchant there has, in consequence, been in the habit of recurring to a subterfuge to procure the introduction of such goods into the warehouses ; but this device has lately attracted the attention of the re- venue authorities, and has been prevented. We are not aware of any reason for a difference of the laws in this respect, to the disadvantage of Ireland. But notwithstanding the means thus afforded, by the warehousing acts, to carry on a proportion of the tross Channel trade, without the double payment and F F 3 43 8 APPENDIX. the drawback of the foreign import duties, there is still so mucli obstruction occasioned to the trade, in duty paid upon foreign goods and domestic manufactures, by this system, as to render it of great importance that it should be reformed and simplified. The consolidation of the revenue of Great Britain and Ireland has prepared the way for that reformation. It has removed the only ground for the continuance of a great part of these complex and onerous regulations. We are not aware of any sound reason why, hencefor- ward, the intercourse between Great Britain and Ireland should be more impeded by fiscal restrictions than the communication coastwise between England and Scot- land, except in those articles which are still subject to different rates of internal duty in the two countries. — Even with respect to these last, we are of opinion, that the regulations and checks intended to afford security to the revenue, and to the manufacturer on either side, may be much shnplified and abridged ; while, with re- gard to the interchange of all other commodities, we feel that the public interest is in every way concerned in the extension of the same freedom and facilities to Ireland, as are enjoyed by all other parts of the United Kingdom, in their commercial dealings with each other. Before we proceed to submit the general regulations, and the alterations of the law by which these improve- ments may, in our judgment, be best effected, we shall briefly advert to the general character of the commerce of Ireland, and to the proportions which the foreign and cross Channel trade bear to each other, in order to exhibit the influence of the present system upon it. We shall also endeavour to illustrate, by some exam- 19 APPENDIX. 439 pies, the manner in which it operates to the prejudice both of the merchant and consumer in that country. In the year ended the 5th of January 1821, the ves- sels and tonnage entered inwards, in all the ports of Ireland, were as follows : — Number of Vessels. Tonnaa:c. From Foreign Parts 767 117,518 From Great Britain 9,643 809,083 The official value of the imports was — £, Foreign and Colo-]^ Imported from Foreign parts 924,500 nial Produce ... J Do. from Great Britain 1,810,272 British Produce and Manufactures 2,432,242 The duties collected on the imports were — '■ On Foreign and ^^ Imported from Foreign parts 552,577 ColonialProduce j Do. from Great Britain 753,200 On British Produce and Manufactures 364,673 In the same year, we find that the sum of 163,000/. was paid back to persons who had imported goods from Great Britain into Ireland, which goods had already paid duty on their admission into the former country, and were liable to a second duty on their entry into the latter; and that, in like manner, thesum of 44,724/. was in the last year drawn back in Ireland, upon goods imported into that country, and from thence exported to Great Britain. The same we have stated belong to the duties of customs only. With regard to the excise, 49,007/. was drawn back in England, and 213,557/. paid in England on excise- able articles imported from Ireland, in the same period. But it is less by the amount of these re-payments, than by the number of the entries, and other regulations to which they give occasion, that an idea may be formed r F 4 440 APPENDIX. of the extent to which this system produces embarrass- ment and delay. In this view, it may be sufficient to state, that the drawbacks above alluded to were ob- tained upon articles of 345 different descriptions, all of which it was necessary to class and charge under sepa- rate heads. A striking illustration of the injurious effect of this system of duties and drawbacks, as a hindrance to com- merce, will be afforded by an explanation of their ope- ration on the trade, in books and paper. We select these articles for the purpose, because the excise duty on paper (which gives occasion for the countervailing duty on the trade in books) is the same in both coun- tries — viz. Sd. per pound ; and it is, therefore, one of those cases in which the inconvenience of paying the duty on the import of the article into either country, and drawing it back in the other, under the present sys- tem, may, in our opinion, be easily and entirely re- medied bv the regulations which we shall hereafter propose. In the evidence of an agent in Ireland, to an extensive publisher in London, which is annexed to this Report, there will be found a detailed statement of the expenses, and an explanation of the difficulties which arise in obtaining the drawback in books. These he describes as being so inconsiderable, that it is not worth while to apply for it at all, if the parcel is of less weight than 160lbs. Mr. Archer, a considerable bookseller in Dublin, also represented to us the inconvenience to which the trade was subjected, from the manner in which these dutio APPENDIX. 4U mid drawbacks operated, with respect to small consign- ments ; upon which he states, " it is not worth while to look for the drawback, as they consist very much of periodical works, and things of that description." The second duty in these cases must, therefore, either become a complete loss to the importer, or be made the occasion of an additional charge to the consumei' in Ireland, as compared with the purchaser in England. Mr. Wakeman, the agent above alluded to, describes the prevalent scarcity of books in all the considerable towns of Ireland ; few (if any) of which have the same accommodation in this respect, as is possessed by the towns of much less importance in Great Britain. This difference he attributes, in a great measure, to the ex- pense and difficulty of obtaining a supply from Great Britain. Mr. Parnell informs us, that eleven counties of Ireland are actually without a single bookseller's shop ; and that, generally, the trade is confined within narrow limits, and to a few hands. It is not unworthy of remark, that at the time of the Union, the Copyright Act was extended to I?'ela?id ; and the Irish publisher was then deprived of the power of reprinting British publications, for the supply of the home markets. This extension of the law, however just in principle, has had the effect of nearly destroy- ing the trade of publication in Ireland ; and the press at this time affords no supply, beyond that of a few tracts of local interest, and some school-books, used exclusively in that country. ./ In this instance, therefore, the effect of the regula- tion has been wholly to the prejudice of Ireland : she 44.^ APPENDIX. has been deprived* of an advantage, without receiving an equivalent, and has lost the privileges of separation, without acquiring the benefits of union. It is, we think, a point of considerable importance to provide an adequate remedy for an evil, which bears in so ma- terial a degree upon the progress of education, as well as upon the improvement of the general habits and in- formation of the people. The remedy is only to be found in a free access to the British market, unincum- bered by all unnecessary impediments of countervailing duties. This would, at least, afford an easy and ample supply of books in Ireland, if it should not even encourage the Irish press to resume its activity, by the prospect of a wider field for its exertion than the sup- ply of the Irish market alone. Evils, similar to those which are produced by the countervailing duties in the trade in books and paper, affect, in a greater or less degree, all other commodities to which they apply. In every case the trader is sub- jected to the delay and trouble occasioned by the differ- ent custom-house proceedings ; to the inconvenience of being called upon for the advance of a double duty ; and to the loss of time and expense which must be incurred before payment of the drawback can be obtained. There are also some irregularities in the existing ar- rangements to which we are desirous of calling your Lordships' attention; not only because they are pro- ductive of much embarrassment, but also because they are material deviations from the provisions of the act of Union. That act has directed that the countervailing; duties and drawbacks should be adjusted on a footing APPENDIX. 44^ of' perfect reciprocity; and that, when any new or ad- ditional duty should be imposed on either side, a draw- back, equal in amount to such duty, should at the same time be allowed. Notwithstanding this enactment, how- ever, we find, in the period which has since elapsed, more than one instance in which articles have been made subject to new duties, without any provision for a corresponding rate of drawback. The duty on hemp, for instance, has been raised in Great Britain, from 4/. 45. 4fd. to 91. 3s. 4^?. per ton ; but the countervailing duty on Irish cordage, and drawback on British cord- age, remain as fixed at the Union : the consequence of which is, that Irish cordage, on admission into Great Britain, pays still only 4Z. 45. 4