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IRELAND, 
 
 AS I SAW IT 
 
 THE 
 
 CHARACTER, CONDITION, AND PROSPECTS 
 
 THE PEOPLE 
 
 By WM. S. BALCH. 
 
 My people ai-e destroyed for lack of knowledge.— Hosea. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 HENRY LYON, 333 BROADWAY. 
 
 AUBURN: 
 VINCENT KENYON, 96 GENESEE-STiiEET. 
 THIRD EDITION.] 1852. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, by 
 
 HALLOCK & LYON, 
 in tlie Clerks Office of tlie Southern District of New- York. 
 
 1 
 
 VV. ri. Dunham, 138 Fultoa-sL, Printer, 
 
 AND 
 
 TuRKKY &c niioTiiKR, If) Spruce-sl., Stereotypera. 
 
 
To 
 FREDERICK C. HAVEMEYER, 
 
 MY CONSTANT FRIEND AND FELLOW-TRAVELER, 
 
 AND 
 
 THE WITNESS OF THE SCENES AND PLACES HEREIN DESCRIBED, 
 
 THESE PAGES 
 
 ARE RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
I 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 The Preparation. — Early Impressions. — Desire to Travel. — Hesitation. — 
 Going to Sea. — Sea-Sickness. — Grandeur of the Sea. — Art of Sail- 
 ing. — Faithfulness of Sailors. — Their Hardships.— Influence of Weath- 
 er. — Individualism. — Infallibility. — Discussions. — Sunday. — Wor- 
 ship.— Freedom. — Controversy. — Encouraging. - - - 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE LANDING. 
 
 Sight of Land. — Hailed by some Fishermen. — Leave the Ship. — An 
 Irish Hooker.--A Dinner.— The Shore.— Landing.— Kinsale.— To Cork. 29 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A DAY IN CORK. 
 
 A View of Cork. — A Reflection. — An Unexpected Acquaintance. — Irish 
 Gratitude for American Benevolence. — Mardyke. — An American 
 Ship. — Weariness. — A Lunch. — Various Topics. — A Car ride. — Blar- 
 ney Castle. — Reflections. — Father Mathew. — Description of the City. 44 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TO THE WEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 A Rainy Morning. — Old Castles. — The Conquest of Ireland. — Ma- 
 croom. — A Living Castle. — Mill-Street. — A Scene of Wretched- 
 ness. — A Beautiful Prospect. — Cloghereen. — Sir Richard Courtney. — 
 Turk Falls. — A Grand View. — Potcheen. — Attendants. — A Pedlar. 71 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 KILLARNEY. 
 
 A Rural Dwelling. — National Schools. — Ascent of Mangerton. — Devil's 
 Punch Bowl. — Bachelor's Spring.— Mountain Bog.--A Splendid View. 
 — The Descent. — The Lakes. — Dinas Island. — Glena. — Innisfallen. 
 — Ross Castle. — Lord Kenmare. — The Town. — Dinner. - - 99 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A SUNDAY IN IRELAND. 
 
 An Early Walk. — A Grand Scene. — A Lonely Girl. — Character. — Dif- 
 ficulties. — A Remedy. — Sir Richard. — Killarney — A Crowd. — The 
 Church. — A Little Boy. — Leaving. — Bigotry. — A Retrospect. — A 
 Poor Family.— Tralee.— The Church.— The Chances. - - 132 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FROM TRAI-EE TO LIMERICK. 
 
 Castle Green. — A Scene of Beggary. — The Cause. — Cashin Bog. — Lis- 
 towel. — Tarbert. — Middle-men. — Condition of Tenants. — Stir-a- 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 bout. — A Family. — Oppression of Landlords. — Emigrants leaving 
 Home. — The Separation. — Taken for an Englishman. — The Shannon. 
 — A Steamboat. — The Passengers. — The Wrong of Vengeance. — An 
 Ambitious Mother. — A Minstrel. — Scenery. — Glynn. — Bunrutty. — 
 Social Evils. — Useless Agitations. - - - - - 175 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LIMERICK. 
 
 Situation of Limerick. — A Porter. — Railway Station. — Scenes of Sin 
 and Misery. — The Market. — Handsome Women. — Artillery Bar- 
 racks. — Oppression. — A Wedding. — A Catholic Chapel. — Theory 
 and Practice. — " Spitting." — The Cathedral. — Bishop's Court. — 
 Monuments. — A Fine Landscape. — The Citadel. — History. — Inter- 
 view with the Prioress of a Nunnery. — National Schools, their 
 Changes and Present Condition. — Reading Room. — Newspapers. — Li- 
 merick-Stone. — Gentry. — Beggars. ----- 235 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MORE TALK THAN TRAVEL. 
 
 Settling a Bill. — The Canal. — O'Brien's Castle. — Falls of the Shannon. — 
 
 Castle-Connel. — Tipperary. — Causes of Outrages. — Remedies. 
 
 Sxruggios for Land. — Evictions. — Toomevara. — Intimidations. — 
 Landlords at Fault. — Good Usage makes Good Tenants. — Many 
 Proofs. — Amedcan Farmers. — Hints for Englishmen. - - 278 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE UPPER SHANNON. 
 
 Killaloe. — Lough Derg. — Landing Passengers. — Monopolies. — Holy 
 Islands. — Personal and Moral Beauty. — English Ability to Help Ire- 
 land. — Portumna. — Ancient and Modern Works. — Redwood Castle. 
 — Victoria Locke. — A Beautiful Spot. — Bennagher. — War Establish- 
 ment. — Paying Priests. — Monasteries. — Shannon-Harbor. - - 305 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 DUBLIN. 
 
 A Canal Boat. — A Conversation Overheard. — British and American 
 Valor. — Personal Liberty essential to Prosperity. — First Principles to 
 be studied. — Individual and Social Responsibility. — The Preparations 
 adequate to a Republic. — Dublin. ----- 342 
 
 CHAPTER XII, 
 
 TRIAL OF MR. MITCHEL. 
 
 A Restless Night. — Domestic Affairs. — Trial of John Mitchel. — The 
 Court. — Mr. Holmes. — His Defence.— The Excitement.— The Military. 
 — Rashness of the Reformers. — Ireland Unfitted for a Republic. — Pay- 
 ing the Catholic Clergy. — Irish Character. — A forcible Repeal impossi- 
 ble. — Origin and Exercise of Power. ----- 379 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 JOURNEY TO THE NORTH. 
 
 Phcenix Park. — Cars. — Scenery. — Drogheda. — Carrickmacross.— AFair. 
 — Monoghan. — A Conversation. — Bally gawley.-r-Fintona. — Sunday. 
 — Omagh. — Strabane. — Londonderry. — The Foyle. — Giant's Cause- 
 way. — Farewell. .---...- 401 
 
INTRODUCTORY EPISTLE. 
 
 To MY DEAR Friend : 
 
 You ask me to publish an account of my travels in tke Old World, for 
 your gratification, and for the instruction of your children. You flatter me, 
 when you compliment my Letters, and say you " want a book written in my 
 peculiar style — plam, familiar, and off'-hand, and yet so minute in its details 
 that others may see what I saw, and feel as I felt." 
 
 You impose on me a difficult task, and one I feel myself incapable of 
 performing to my own satisfaction, much less to yours. Still, I am anxious 
 to please you, and willing to help amuse your children ; and, knowing that you 
 will be rather generous than critical, I venture to ofler you the following pages 
 On Ireland. Whether other volumes, on other countries, will follow it, de- 
 pends upon circumstances not wholly under my control. For this, I bespeak 
 your favorable consideration. The numerous calls upon my time, the duties 
 of my vocation, and the state of my health, have delayed the appearance of 
 the present work, and prevented me from doing little more than fill up my 
 notes, sketched during such leisure moments as I could find while performing 
 my journey. 
 
 I went to see and learn — to gratify myself; and, to refresh my memory in 
 after years, I made as copious notes as possible — jotted down, at the time, 
 such thoughts, impressions, and incidents as occurred to me. I did not take 
 much pains to reckon time or measure proportions, in a way to give minute 
 descriptions. Historical and statistical facts are only introduced to add vivid- 
 ness to the pictures drawn. I traveled neither as philosopher, sage, or poet, 
 but simply as a plain republican, curious to see, and anxious to learn all I 
 could, in a given time. 
 
 Of course, I measured every thing by such standard as I had, and pro- 
 nounced my own judgment upon it. I went not to ape the manners of others 
 — to Europeanize my notions and habits — to be pleased with every thing 
 foreign, and dissatisfied with the plain, homespun habits of our own country. 
 Neither did I carry a bigoted attachment to the customs and institutions un- 
 der which I was reared. I went without prejudice, and under the influence 
 of a principle broad and deep, which recognizes kings as companions, 
 beggars as equals, and all men as brethren. I carried with me a disposition to 
 study the true, approve the good, honor the great, and admire the beautiful. 
 
 That I love my own country and its liberal institutions, and now, more than 
 ever, I will not deny ; but that does not impair my judgment, nor blind my 
 sense of justice to ether lands? Are we not all brethren? Does not one 
 Lord rule over us ? Is it not the dictate of Christianity to rise above all local 
 and national distinctions, in our estimate of right and wrong, of good and 
 evil ? Is not such the dictate of our higher nature ? You will pardon me, 
 then, for the freedom I use. I write as I think, express what I feel, and de- 
 scnbe what I saw. 
 
8 I>JTRODUCTORy EPISTLE. 
 
 I own I have touched upon some delicate pohits, trenched upon opinions by 
 some held sacred, and described things which might have been let alone, for 
 which some will condemn, and no body praise me. It is all the same to me, 
 if I have told the. truth. Facts will remain, and my opinions go for what they 
 are worth. 
 
 I gazed with astonishment and admiration on much I saw, and my heart 
 yearned deeply over the wrongs, oppressions, ignorance, and misery I beheld 
 I saw more to approve in the character of the people than I expected, more 
 to lament in their condition, and more to condemn in the operation of aristo- 
 cratic institutions. But these were undergoing such rapid transformations — 
 every thing was so agitated, so unsettled, that I could do little more than con- 
 template the past, and catch glimpses of the future through the auguries of 
 the present. 
 
 I answer, then, your request, })y these brief sketches of what I saw, and as 
 I saw it, and the reflections suggested at the time. You may not see as I saw, 
 nor feel as I felt. In honesty, I can describe nothing different from what it ap- 
 peared to me. I had no eyes, no heart but my own. You may dissent from 
 my conclusions — that is your right ; but you must not impeach my veracity ; 
 for I have tried to be faithful, let praise or condemnation fall where it might. 
 
 I have been minute — I hope not tediously so — in all cases where I thought 
 it necessary to a clear apprehension of the case in hand. As you say, " the 
 fault of many books of travel is, they deal too much in generalities, describe 
 great things, make us acquainted with castles and kings, but not with cottages 
 and peasants — as if the writer had seen nothing humble in all his travels." 
 My sympathies have ever been with the " common people," and for their sakes 
 I write. I commenced my journey with a determination to pay particular 
 attention to the condition of the masses — to keep along the side-hill of life, 
 so as to see below as well as above me, and calculate the chances for the 
 improvement of the one, and to amuse myself with the proud displays of the 
 other. I have done both — looked on kings and queens, in their palaces ; eat- 
 en " stir-a-bout" with cottiers on the banks of the Shannon ; " butterbrod" 
 with the peasantry of Deutschland, and green figs with the lazzaroni of Italy ; 
 and I have formed my estimate of things as they appeared to me. 
 
 Of Ireland, to which country the present volume is devoted, little has been writ- 
 ten by American travelers. I therefore venture to supply a work which, I trust, 
 will afford some entertainment and instruction relative to a country of the 
 character and condition of which we have heard much, but known little. Since 
 the composition of these pages, a work entitled " Letters on the Condition of 
 the People of Ireland, by T. Campbell Foster," has fallen into my hands, 
 from which I have made some valuable extracts, and appended them as notes, 
 to sustain the positions I have taken, 
 
 I have sought to embody just enough of my personal narrative to keep the 
 reader close by me, and let him know what sort of a companion he is tra- 
 veling with, that he may form a just estimate of the facts and circumstances 
 detailed, and get a clearer insigh; 'nto the character, condition, and prospects 
 of the people. 
 
IRELAND 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 
 
 The Preparation. — Early Impressions. — Desire to Travel. — Hesitation. — A 
 Passenger goes Home. — Going to Sea. — Dull Weather. — Sea-sickness. — 
 Grandeur of the Sea. — Art of Sailing. — Faithfulness of Sailors. — Their 
 Hardships. — Influence of Weather. — Individualism. — Infallibility. — Discus- 
 sions. — Sunday. — Worship. — Freedom. — Controversy. — Encouraging. 
 
 Ireland occupies a peculiar position. It is intimately 
 connected with the ancient and the modern. It properly 
 belongs to neither. The ravages of time have demolished 
 the Old, but the spirit of progress has not constructed the 
 New. Nor can it be ranked in the transition series. It is 
 in a state of social and political abnegation. The relics of 
 feudalism are found in abundance among the mouldering 
 ruins of its cloistered abbeys, its tottering castles, and moss- 
 covered cathedrals ; but are more distinctly seen in the ex- 
 treme wretchedness of its starved, oppressed, and demented 
 population. 
 
 Still, faith espies, as in a grave-yard, ethereal specters 
 which shall assume forms of life and beauty ; and hope, 
 clinging to its object, is dug out of the accumulated wrongs 
 of centuries. It requires all the works of the former, and 
 the patience of the latter to endure the sight of present 
 degradation and misery which abound in such odious con- 
 trast with the physical beauty and fertility of the country. 
 
 The casual observer will stumble upon little to please him 
 or excite his curiosity, except in natural scenery. Objects 
 
10 RECOLLECTION OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 of loathing will meet him every where ; and, if he has no 
 heart to pity, no hand for relief, no far-seeing philanthropy, 
 he will turn back in disgust, none the wiser for having looked 
 upon this dark picture. But if he desires to learn, and 
 has the ability to appreciate the actual condition of a peo- 
 ple governed too much, and loved too little, he may here 
 see the most indubitable proofs, and cogent illustrations. 
 He will find no difficulty in tracing all these miseries to the 
 curse of aristocracy, and the social depravity of the people? 
 and will learn valuable lessons for the regulation of his 
 own conduct. Let us go and see it. 
 
 THE PREPARATION. 
 
 In my youthful days, I lived among the romantic moun- 
 tains of my native State. My father's dwelling was situat- 
 ed on a hill-side, with a deep valley opening towards the 
 south-east, down which ran a babbling brook, while along 
 the west, a mile distant, was stretched a frowning ridge of 
 mountains. From the window of my chamber I could look 
 far down that valley, and, in a clear day, see the grand Mo- 
 nadnock, at a distance of fifty miles, towering, in proud and 
 solitary majesty,^ high above all surrounding objects. In 
 spring and summer I used to see the sun rise up from be- 
 hind it, and I wondered where it came from. Close by its 
 base lived my maternal grandfather, who, during his patri- 
 archal visits, often told us about that mountain, and the 
 magnificent scenery presented to the view of one upon its 
 summit. While listening to him, my young heart burned 
 with a desire to stand on the top of that mountain, and 
 gaze over all the world, which I thought could be easily 
 done from a position so lofty. 
 
 In the pasture above the house, to which I was sent daily 
 for the cows, there is a high rock where I have sat with 
 my sisters, hour after hour, gazing over the broad expanse 
 of hills and dales, and drinking in the love of natural scenery, 
 and forming schemes to travel and see the wonders of the 
 world. To the north and east were seen the bold outlines 
 of the Granite Hills, whose undulating summits formed the 
 
INFLUENCE OF SCENERY. 11 
 
 boundary of the visible horizon, and from which stood up 
 the lofty peaks of the Moosehillock, Sunnapee, Kearsarge, 
 and Monadnock, as iDwers upon pictured ramparts. I 
 wondered what was beyond them. A little to the south of 
 the latter I was shown the Wachusett, and they told me 
 that not far from it was Boston, by the side of a great wa- 
 ter, larger than all the land we could see. My father once 
 went to that town, and, when he returned, he told us much 
 about it ; that the houses were made of bricks, and so close 
 together that one touched the other ; that ships as large as 
 the meeting-house were along the side of it ; and that there 
 were more stores than houses, and barns, and sheds in all 
 the town in which we lived. Oh, how I longed to go to that 
 town, and see those ships, and that great sea ! 
 
 In early spring, my father sometimes allowed me to go, 
 with an older brother, to the " sugar-lot," a mile distant, and 
 near the top of Mount Terrible, which had hitherto limited 
 my vision in that direction. Here was a fine collection of 
 maple trees, from which was manufactured the sugar for 
 the family. When the crust upon the deep snows would 
 bear me, and I was large enough not to fear the bears, and 
 the wolves, and the "quill-shooting" hedgehogs, I would 
 wander off, occasionally, to amuse myself alone. One 
 fine morning I went to the top of the mountain, and, through 
 the naked branches of the forest trees, I caught indistinct 
 glimpses of something beyond. I climbed a scragged spruce, 
 thinking that from the top of it I could see where the sun 
 went down, and where storms of wind, and rain, and thun- 
 der came from. What was my surprise when I saw the 
 deep valley of the Wantastiquet, and the main ridge of the 
 Green Mountains, stretching to the north and south further 
 than eye could reach ; with the peaks of other mountains 
 still beyond ! My eyes wandered in all directions over the 
 vast and varied scenery with astonishment and admiration. 
 I had never dreamed the world was half so large ; and now 
 J could not see the end of it. I v^as not satisfied. The 
 sphere of my imagination was enlarged. My soul was 
 
12 FAVORITE STUDIES. 
 
 fired by a fervent desire — which burns even now with in- 
 creased intensity, after having looked upon the grand and 
 beo,utiful in my own country — to overleap the barriers 
 which had hitherto limited my ambition, and to explore, 
 unconstrained, the new and wonderful things of earth. I 
 wanted to see where the sun went to rest, and whence it 
 rose, — the chambers from whose windows gleamed his ear- 
 liest and latest rays. I panted to see the great ocean, and 
 the ships upon it, and the town where the houses touched 
 each other. 
 
 Behold the reason why I am now seated in this lone 
 cabin, with the Old World before me, and my friends and 
 country behind ! 
 
 Reared among such scenes, with few books, and little 
 time to read them, I early learned to love natural scenery. 
 Mountains and valleys, meadows and forests, the beautiful 
 and sublime in nature, were always before me. The naiads 
 and napese of my mountain home danced about me, and 
 sweetened my solitude with their music. The birds, the 
 speckled trout, and the wild flowers became my compan- 
 ions. But there was in me an instinct they could not 
 charm — a fire that would not go out. I wanted to go into 
 the world and see it. Every hill, and tree, and rock, and 
 rill had become familiar to me, and I longed for something 
 new. With what profound attention I listened to the sto- 
 ries of those who had been about the world, when they 
 talked with my father and detailed what they had seen ! 
 
 At school. Geography became my favorite study ; and 
 books of travel I devoured with the keenest relish. Every 
 place about which I read was mapped in my mind, and 
 every scene described formed an image which neither time 
 nor care can efface. To me, the most interesting portions 
 of the earth were Greece, and Rome, and the Holy Land. 
 Around the last were clustered the memories and feelings 
 awakened by a perusal of my mother's Bible. Ever since 
 I could read the Holy Book, I have longed to go and see 
 the places where were performed the sacred dramas de- 
 
DESIRE TO TRAVEL. 13 
 
 scribed in its pages ; to climb over Lebanon, and rest in 
 the shadow of its cedars ; to wander through the valley of 
 Esdraelon, and among the hills of Samaria; to wet my feet 
 in the dews of Hermon, and bathe in the floods of Jordan ; 
 to eat fish on the shores of Genesareth, and drink water 
 from Jacob's well ; to repose in the cave of Elijah, and 
 gather roses on the plains of Sharon ; to stand upon Oli- 
 vet, and look upon the "joy of the whole earth ;" to go through 
 Jerusalem, along the via Dolorosa, to Calvary and the tomb 
 of Arimathea! I have studied hard to understand its de- 
 scriptive language, that I might rejoice in the blessed truths 
 of the Bible. But there seems to hang a mistiness about 
 its descriptions, accumulated by time, distance, and the pe- 
 culiar circumstances, which can be dispelled only by a per- 
 sonal examination of the localities over which have been so 
 long spread the shadows of the past. To see, or to touch 
 these objects and find them realities, would remove the last 
 doubt, and every description would become plain and forci- 
 ble, and seal its truth upon the heart. 
 
 Nor was my young ambition confined to the scenes of 
 Jewry, rich as they are in the records of startling events ; 
 for my reading led me to classic Greece and world-conquer- 
 ing Rome, around whose histories there circles a vague- 
 ness like that which has fallen on the land of miracles — the 
 scene of man's redemption. As one reads, he desires to 
 see ; and I longed to visit Mars-hill, and the pass of Ther- 
 mopylae ; to see the ruins of the Eternal city, and its Jiving 
 monuments ; to cross the Alps at St. Bernard, and hear 
 Mass in St. Peter's. The more modern nations, likewise, 
 have their attractions — their temples of pride ; their galleries 
 of art ; their museums of curiosities ; their libraries of printed 
 knowledge ; their old feudal castles ; the working of aristo- 
 cratic institutions upon the condition of the masses of the 
 people ; these, and a thousand other considerations, whetted 
 my ambition, and led me to form a plan to visit the Old 
 World, which became the study of my days and the dream 
 of my nights. What was a mere aspiration of youth, be- 
 
 2 
 
14 HESITATION. 
 
 came a fixed purpose of maturer age — an object of my life, 
 worthy of much labor, care, and sacrifice, to the accom- 
 plishment of which much effort has been directed. 
 
 My favored time has come at length ; the preparation 
 has been made. My hesitations have been overcome; — 
 who does not hesitate, when wife, and children, and friends, 
 with heaving hearts, and tearful eyes, and choked voices, 
 cling about to breathe a long, perhaps a last, farewell ; and 
 would, we know, though they say it not, dissuade us from 
 an absence so long, and a journey so dangerous ? 
 
 But the last words have been spoken ; the last look, the 
 last signal given ; and our ship is floating on the bay, wait- 
 ing for wind and tide to carry us out to sea. 
 
 GOING TO SEA. 
 
 April 27. — The feelings of one's heart, on parting with 
 home, and friends, and country, to venture upon the uncer- 
 tain sea, and among the turbulent commotions of strange 
 countries, in times like the present, are too profound and in- 
 tense to find utterance in words. ; and the anguish is 
 made keener by being detained in close proximity to those 
 whom we have left behind, perhaps for ever. We long to 
 return and gladden their hearts, and our own ; to light a 
 smile where we last saw the darkness of sorrow, to utter 
 words we could not speak at parting. The excitement of 
 preparation is all over, and the warm blood curdles about 
 the heart. We feel faint, and sick, and sad. Then comes the 
 real struggle ; affection reproving desire ; duty quarrehng 
 with ambition ; the heart warring with the head ; fear 
 growling at courage, and stirring up apprehension to a med- 
 dlesome interference with the plans and hopes of years. 
 Hesitation points at assurance, and, like the forlorn rush 
 of an assailant on his foe, makes a last desperate effort 
 to overpower resolution and control judgment. Oh, the 
 bitterness, the misery of such an hour ! Heaven only 
 has recorded the thoughts and feelings of my last night. — 
 
GOING TO SEA. 15 
 
 I feel calm and assured this morning, and am only anxious 
 to start on our voyage. 
 
 One of our passengers has been overpowered by appre- 
 hension and gone ashore, preferring the security of home 
 to a voyage across the trackless deep. He was a middle- 
 aged man, who had suffered much from sickness. He had 
 been advised by his physician to cross the sea, and he resolved 
 to do so ; but his heart has failed him, and he prefers to re- 
 turn, at the forfeit of his passage money. 
 
 At eight o'clock this morning we saw, with satisfaction, 
 the captain and pilot putting off from Castle Garden in a 
 small boat. All was ready to receive them. They came on 
 board, and in an hour we were driiting slowly down the 
 harbor. A south wind coming up, we were obliged to 
 come to an anchor in the lower bay, where we lay 
 till night, when a favorable breeze set us on our course, 
 and we made Sandy Hook with a single tack ; and passed 
 the hghthouse at half past seven. At eight, we discharged 
 our pilot, and put directly to sea. As long as we could, 
 we gazed through the darkening twilight at the receding 
 shores of our native land ; and when we could trace the 
 dim outline no longer, nor see a twinkle of the beacon 
 light, we raised a prayer to Heaven for ourselves and friends, 
 our home and country, and retired, lonely and sad, to our 
 room, feeling more conscious than ever of the littleness and 
 helplessness of man, and the greatness and goodness of God. 
 
 MY JOURNAL. 
 
 April ^Q. — Yesterday was a dull, dreary day, light wind 
 and little progress. Our spirits were duller than the wea- 
 ther. To-day, we have a clear sky, a warm sun, and a 
 smart breeze. Everything is cheerful, and we are happy. 
 Our affairs are all arranged for the voyage and we begin to feel 
 at home. The Siddons is a good, comfortable ship, and her 
 officers gentlemanly, attentive, and faithful. We have 
 but four cabin passengers, eight or ten in the second cabin, 
 
16 SEA-SICKNESS. 
 
 and as many in the steerage. Ample provision has been 
 made to render our voyage as comfortable and pleasant as 
 possible. 
 
 May 2. — A stiff breeze from the south and increasing 
 towards night. The sea rolls heavily, and our ship is 
 tossed about like a very little thing. One passenger begins 
 to complain of illness, looks pale about his lips, and leaves 
 his place at the table vacant. The rest of us keep up good 
 courage, but with a doubtful prospect ahead. 
 
 May 6. — Well, it is over, thanks to the milder wind 
 and calmer sea, and I am ao-ain on my legs, staring sullenly, 
 and in a stifled rage, at the impertinence of the sea. Four 
 days gone, I can hardly tell how. On the night of the 2d 
 Neptune stretched forth his trident, and demanded of me 
 a sacrifice, for daring to encroach upon his domain. I re- 
 tired like a sorry penitent to my state-room, to do pe- 
 nance for my temerity ; prostrated myself, and poured out my 
 libations freely upon the dread altar. I was horribly sick 
 for thirty hours. Not until to-day have I felt myself freely 
 and fully forgiven. One of our passengers still lingers at 
 the confessional. 
 
 May 7. — Another dark, drizzling day. What is duller 
 than a dull day at sea ! — the wind lulled into a dead calm : 
 the heavens overcast with thick clouds, which rest down up- 
 on the surface of the waters ; the dark swelling waves, mur- 
 muring mournfully by. The ship rolls and pitches heavily, her 
 timbers creaking at every joint, and the wet sails flap- 
 ping lazily, with a most doleful sound. Oh, the tedium of 
 the sea ! Its poetry is all gone. It has vanished like the 
 " baseless fabric of a vision." The romance of the sea is all 
 on shore. Seated on some safe, jutting cliff', beneath the 
 spreading branches of a tree, one may dream about the po- 
 etry of the " deep blue sea," as its waves come surging to 
 the shore and spend their fury in harmless dashing at his 
 feet. But this eternal tossing, pitching, tuQibling, and 
 creaking, of " the house we live in," as if an earthquake 
 were beneath us, and one dash more would rend it to 
 
GRANDEUR OF THE OCEAN. J 7 
 
 atoms, and send us to sleep on coral beds below ; the tramp 
 and bawl of the sailors over head ; the dark, damp atmo- 
 sphere ; the entire prostration of all mental vigor ; the utter 
 inability to read, think, talk, or write ; nothing to amuse or 
 comfort ; every expression of sympathy construed into a 
 desire to mock one's sufierings ; all becomes too real, too 
 discordant to admit any play of the imagination, to weave 
 chaplets of poesy with which to wreathe the brow of old 
 ocean. On such a day one gets out of patience with him- 
 self and the world, and curses the folly and madness 
 which ever induced him to exchange the security and 
 comfort of home, the close communion of beloved friends, 
 and the thousand sources of enjoyment, for the dulness and 
 misery of a voyage across the sea. But he who would 
 see the wonders of the Old World can not avoid the 
 sacrifice. Happier is he who is content with the freshness 
 and prosperity of the New. 
 
 May 9. — Encouraging. By the captain's reckoning, 
 we are half way across the Atlantic. The sea is calm, 
 the sky is clear, the wind favorable, and we are careering 
 on in fine style. What an influence the outer world has 
 over the spirit of man ! How close and intricate, is the con- 
 nexion of soul and body ; and how inwoven are the pow- 
 ers which play upon each other ! Two days ago, all was 
 regret, and gloom, and apprehension. To-day, everything 
 is full of cheer, and hope, and happiness. Nothing but ne- 
 cessity could force us backward from our purpose. The 
 clouds are cleared awav from the mental horizon, and 1 can 
 look upon the sublimity and awful grandeur of this vast 
 wilderness of waters wilh the profoundest admiration and 
 delight. Around, above, beneath, are manifest the mighty 
 works of him " who spreadeth out the heavens, and treadeth 
 upon the waves of the sea," " who hath gathered the wind in his 
 fists," and "stilleth the noise of the sea, the noise of the waves, 
 and the tumult of the people." I can now realize, as I never 
 could before, the ferce and beauty of the Psalmist's words, 
 where he says : " They that go down to the sea in ships, 
 
 2 
 
18 MANAGING A SHIP. 
 
 that do business upon the great waters ; they see the 
 works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep, for he 
 commandeth, and raiseth a stormy wind, and hfteth up the 
 waves thereof. They mount up to heaven, they go down 
 again to the depths ; their soul is melted, because of trou- 
 ble; they reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and 
 are at their wit's end. They cry unto the Lord in their trou- 
 ble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh 
 the sea a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then 
 are they glad because they be quiet ; so he bringeth them 
 unto their desired haven. Oh, that men would praise the 
 Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the 
 children of men." 
 
 I have been forcibly reminded of the great goodness of 
 God, in giving to man the wonderful ability to construct 
 and manage, with such consummate skill and precision, his 
 floating home, in which he goes securely and comfortably 
 across the trackless deep to any desired point of destina- 
 tion. This result, like all other great achievments, has been 
 gained by repeated experiment and perseverance. Step 
 by step the art of navigation has progressed, till a degree 
 of speed and security has been attained which is truly as- 
 tonishing. Could the present state of perfection to which 
 marine travelling has been carried, be compared with what 
 it was a few centuries ago, when huge barges went coast- 
 ing from place to place, how wonderful would the contrast 
 appear ! Who would say the world makes no progress ? 
 that everything moves in a circle ? that the present is no 
 wiser than former generations? 
 
 May 10. — I have been watching, to-day, the working of 
 the ship, noting the order and regularity which prevail in 
 every department, admiring the skill and energy of the offi- 
 cers, and the promptitude and cheerfulness of the sailors. 
 There stands the captain, always at his post, in defiance of 
 cold, or wet, or darkness, pacing to and fro on the wind- 
 ward side of the quarter deck, till he has worn a track from 
 the binnacle to near the main-mast. He eves each sail, to 
 
FAITHFULNEcJS DF SAILORS. 19 
 
 keep it full ; marks the least increase or diminution of the 
 wind, and gives commands to reef, or unfurl, or set more 
 sail, to jibe, or luff, or wear about ; anxious to do every- 
 thing to speed the passage, and give security to the persons 
 and property committed to his charge. Then here are the 
 under officers, equally faithful to their trust, and alike anx- 
 ious for the safety and comfort of all on board. Then come 
 the poor, neglected, and too often despised sailors, a rough 
 and hardy set of fellows, but for whose fidelity, and, some- 
 times dangerous daring, all would be unsafe and disastrous. 
 The commands of the officers would be unavailing, the ship 
 unmanageable, the winds our masters, the coral reefs our 
 bed, but for their promptitude and courage in the discharge 
 of their duties. The other night, when the gale carried 
 away our main-top-gallant mast, all hands turned out, and 
 were ready to mount the rattlings, to clamber out to 
 the very ends of the yards, while the ship rolled and pitched 
 fearfully, clinging among the shrouds, at the great risk of 
 their lives, to furl the sails and repair the injury. No danger 
 is so great as to deter them from doing what a superior 
 officer commands. Suddenly awakened from the slumbers 
 of night, they start to the post of duty without a murmur. 
 Who will say no goodness dwells in the sailor's heart ; 
 that all is dark, depraved, and vile ; that this rough cov- 
 ering envelopes no nut, no germ of moral excellence, 
 which retains the impress of its divine parentage, and needs 
 but the a})plication of truth and love to bring out the in- 
 nate quality, arm it against all circumstances, and set it on 
 its heavenward course ? Who can tell us how far bad 
 influences — uncared for childhood, neglected youth, the 
 crushing weight of poverty and ignorance, the indifference 
 and abuse of employers, and the cold scorn and hard de- 
 nunciation of the professedly good and pious, have tended 
 to make them what they are, and immeasurably worse than 
 they otherwise would have been ? And the treatment 
 they receive at home and abroad is not much calculated to 
 make them better. They are stowed away in the low, dark 
 
20 THEIR CONDITION NEGLECTED. 
 
 forecastle, without seats, without Hghts, without dishes, save 
 a tin plate and cup, and wooden noggin. They are fed upon 
 the most miserable fare, served out in the meanest manner. 
 Their physical comfort is altogether disregarded. They are 
 treated with less attention to their comfort than a cartman's 
 horse. There is little done for them by their rich, and some- 
 times pious employers, to elevate their minds, to promote their 
 welfare, and to make them think more seriously of their 
 characters as men, and their responsibilities as the children 
 of God. They feel that they are unloved, uncared for, and 
 despised ; and, having lost their self-respect, through con- 
 sciousness of guilt and the unforgiving spirit of the world, 
 they find in themselves no heart to rise and retrieve the 
 errors of the past, by a true reformation. They have no 
 confidence in themselves nor in others, save in those of the 
 same kith and kin, whose influence serves rather to depress 
 than elevate them. They have no living faith in God or 
 man, in truth or goodness. All, over, around, and before 
 them, is dark, and dreary, and desolate. They see no beam 
 of light, not a ray of hope, guiding through the murky 
 present to a brighter and better future, arresting their 
 attention, and offering to them attractions to aspire after 
 the pure and holy, the beautiful and good. They never 
 look aloft to the serene atmosphere of Divine Goodness, to 
 see what demonstrations of love have been made in behalf 
 of sinners by the gift of Jesus Christ ; or if they do, in 
 their unbelief, they conclude that such condescension is not 
 for them. The church has not made practical this sublime 
 doctrine in a way to reach their case, through the cold neg- 
 lect and proud contempt the world has heaped upon them. 
 Their hearts remain untouched, their judgments unconvinced, 
 their condition the same, or growing worse. And still there 
 is a frankness, a generosity, a devotion to duty, a disinter- 
 estedness, an intensity of feeling, when once the affections 
 of the heart are touched, which no one can fail to admire 
 and approve. I have sat for hours and chatted with them. 
 Like slaves, and servants and workers in large estab- 
 
INFLUENCE OF CIRCUJVISTANCES. 21 
 
 lishments, they feel oppressed and constrained by a sense 
 of their inferiority, and enter not freely and confidentially 
 into conversation with others. Oh! the curse of the false 
 distinctions of earth! How many souls have been made 
 wretched by them! How many thousands are kept from 
 the light of truth and blessings of salvation! What ruin, 
 what misery, what desolations have they wrought in all the 
 earth! Jesus came to break down every barrier, to level 
 every mountain and hill, fill up every valley, take out of 
 the way every stumbling-block, and prepare a highway for 
 the Lord, that all flesh might see the salvation of God. 
 
 Oh, blessed Savior, how merciful, how condescending! 
 the companion of the poor and miserable, and the friend 
 of publicans and sinners! Teach men thy knowledge and 
 fear, that pride and arrogance may no longer dry up the 
 charities of the human soul, and leave the millions for whose 
 salvation thy blood was freely poured out, to die in igno- 
 rance, and moral and social degradation! Then shall thy 
 church arise and shake itself from the dust of earth, and, 
 attired in its beautiful garments, go triumphantly forward 
 in its work of love, bestowing its benedictions upon all 
 grades of universal humanity. 
 
 May 12. — What a wonderful influence weather has upon 
 one's spirits! A clear, bright day, with a fair breeze, dis- 
 pels all gloom, and makes one cheerful and happy. How 
 much are most people affected by outward circumstances ! 
 Some may be controlled wholly by them. Such are 
 like seed sown on thin soil, "they have not root in 
 themselves." Every man should attain to the possession 
 of a degree of self-reliance which will raise him above all 
 circumstances, and give him an independence and fortitude 
 sufficient to signalize his individuality and show that his 
 character is not a mere chameleon-hue, taking its tinge from 
 whatever is reflected upon it. No matter if there are 
 coarse, rugged features, observable to those accustomed to 
 look only upon the flat surface of life's picture, to admire 
 the minglings of light and shade in the arrangement of 
 
22 INDIVIDUALISM. 
 
 forms and figures which stand out only in appearance. 
 He who would sculpture the real statue of life must quarry 
 out the solid block, and employ time and patience to chisel 
 down its coarse features, and smoothe and polish their rough 
 outlines, without marring the prominence of any part. 
 
 This individualism is an important doctrine, especially 
 when taken in connexion with the social relations and du- 
 ties of life. Perhaps, in America, and particularly among 
 those really independent in religious and political matters, 
 there is too much of the former without a proper regard 
 for the latter. Still, I can conceive of no social organiza- 
 tion worthy of reasonable beings, where each member does 
 not retain all that constitutes a freeman of God, a unit in 
 creation, and does not bring himself, as he is, to make one 
 in the mingled mass. If he is to sink the man, to lose the 
 individual in the shade of another, nothing is really gained; 
 but one is actually lost. The monarch says we, and assumes 
 to speak for the realm. The Bishop says we, and dares to 
 speak for God. All under him but reiterate his voice. As 
 many as receive and swallow, like young birds, without 
 mastication, whatever is given them, have no life in 
 themselves, but are the tools of another, giving the reve- 
 rence to man which is due to God only. The Synod, or 
 Council, or Conventicle may do the same thing, seeking to 
 swallow up all a man should claim for himself How in- 
 sinuating and formidable is the love of power! How tame 
 and servile is the soul that will submit to it willingly, except 
 when exercised in trust for the general good, of the fact of 
 which he reserves the right to judge for himself What a 
 sublime spectacle is presented in our great Republic, where 
 all men are sovereigns, acting in concert for the good of each! 
 And so with a true religion, where the only power wielded 
 over free minds is the force of truth, the example of right- 
 eousness, and the influence of love. 
 
 These reflections were suggested to my mind by various 
 conversations with our Catholic priest, upon the infallibility 
 of his Church, its right to judge in all matters, and the duty 
 
INFALLIBILITY OF THE CHURCH. 23 
 
 of all her priee-ts to be in perfect submission to her decisions 
 and dictates, and of all her members to be in a true sub- 
 mission to her priests. I need not here relate the train 
 of argument by which he sought to sustain his ground. 
 The bare definition of his position is enough to convince 
 those who have been trained from their youth to cherish, as 
 one of the most sacred, natural, and inalienable rights of 
 all men, that freedom of thought on all subjects comes 
 properly within the range of human inquiry. But it is sin- 
 gular with what willingness these priests consent, with the 
 most abject submission, to the authority of the Church; 
 and with what pertinacity they exact a like submission 
 from all beneath them. Some deny the infallibility of their 
 Pope, and of every Cardinal and Bishop, individually, and 
 even admit that they may be corrupt men, and still contend 
 that, when acting in their associated capacity, as a Church, 
 they are infallible, and always to be implicitly and blindly 
 obeyed. 
 
 Speaking of the infallibility of the Church, I see, in 
 Brownson's last Quarterly, a summary of the entire argu- 
 ment upon this subject, which I have extracted below. 
 The writer is attempting to prove, in reply to another, that 
 the "Apocraphy" is canonical, because so decreed by the 
 Church. The Church having so decided, all Christians are 
 bound to receive it as such until the validity of such de- 
 cree is refuted, and this can not be done, because the Church 
 is "infallible." 
 
 " But to prove the fallibility of the Church, or to disprove her infallibility, is 
 a grave undertaking, and attended with serious difficulties. The Church can 
 not be tried except by some standard, and it is idle to attempt to convict her on 
 a fallible authority. If the conviction is obtained on a fallible authority, the 
 conviction itself is fallible, and it, instead of the Church, may be the party in 
 the wrong. The Professor can not take a single step, can not even open his 
 case, unless he has an infallible tribunal before which to summon the Church, 
 — some infallible standard by which to test her infallibility or fallibility. But 
 before what infallible tribunal can he cite her ? What infallible authority has 
 he on which to demand her conviction ? 
 
 " The only possible way in which the fallibility of the Church can be proved, 
 IS by convicting her of having act'ially erred on some point on which she 
 
24 CONSERVATISM. 
 
 claims to be infallible. But it is evident, that, in order to be able to convict 
 her of having erred on a given point, we must be able to say infallibly what is 
 truth or error on tliat point." 
 
 What wonderful logic ! The Church assumes infallibility ; 
 claims the right of trial by a " jury of her peers," that is 
 by " infallible " judges ; denies that there are any such in 
 the realm, and, therefore, the Church is infallible! And 
 yet, after all, this is the only argument of any consequence 
 — it is the main argument, which the Romish Church offers 
 to a reasonable world and an enlightened age, to sustain its 
 claims to infallibility and the right to rule men's con- 
 sciences in all matters of faith and practice. 
 
 Another point we had under discussion, yesterday — the 
 doctrine of " Transubstantiation." Our friend asserted, 
 positively, that the bread and wine became the actual flesh 
 and blood of Christ in the communion, by consecration. 
 I proposed to test the fact by a chemical analysis of the ma- 
 terials, after such consecration. He denied the right to do 
 so, and argued that, as Christ had power to turn water into 
 wine, so he could give power to his Church to turn bread 
 into flesh, and wine into blood. I did not deny his power 
 to do so, but questioned the fact, and the test I proposed 
 would settle the question whether such special approval of 
 of God had been given to his Church. He thought me 
 most wickedly absurd and heretical, and did not modify his 
 opinion in my favor when I inquired what the effect would 
 be if rats and mice should pick up some of the crumbs of the 
 consecrated wafer. 
 
 Such discussions are not very edifying, but they will do 
 very well to help while away the tedium of a sea voyage. 
 I confess myself enlightened on several points of Roman 
 theology which I had thought were repudiated. But it 
 seems no progress has been made, no onward movement 
 given to the doctrines or usages of that venerable institu- 
 tion. What has been with them must always be ; no ad- 
 vancement is possible. The past is the earnest and the ac- 
 tual of the future. Every voice calls backward, and threat- 
 
SL'\DAir REFLECTIONS. 26 
 
 ens calamities for the differing. They reject "Excelsior'' 
 from their vocabulary, and fold their arms in stoic indiffer- 
 ence. One object only animates them — Proselytism — to 
 bring forward the Past, to bow before the Ancient, and prop 
 the crumbling walls, which totter to their very base. 
 
 For one thing I like our Protestant faith, if for nothing 
 else — its freshness, its vigor, its boldness, its liberality. It 
 bids us look up and forward, to forget what is behind and 
 press on to that which is before, undismayed in a cause 
 which is to be crowned with success and with the approval 
 of God. It denies us no truth ; it forbids no good ; it gives 
 freely to all ; upbraids none, but bids all and each "go for- 
 ward," fear not, for God is with you always, even to the 
 end of time. 
 
 May 14. — It is Sunday : a calm and quiet day, with a 
 fair, soft breeze. The sea is tranquil, disturbed only by our 
 ship, which leaves a faint ripple behind, but which is all 
 vanished ere we are out of sight of it. What an emblem 
 of the good man's life ! He lives, and loves, and blesses. 
 His years flow smoothly on. He dies. But his memory 
 lives after him, till the generation that knew him passes 
 away and then he is not forgotten. Not so with the selfish 
 and vile. Their memory, like our ship's track in a storm, 
 is soon obliterated, or exhibits only the scattered fragments 
 of a wasted life. 
 
 Our passengers are so few that no public religious ser- 
 vice has been proposed. But God is worshipped accepta- 
 bly by the heart that kindles with devotion at the mighti- 
 ness of his power, the grandeur of his works, and the suffi- 
 ciency of his grace. He asks the sacrifice of the heart, 
 and accepts it without a lip-service. The forms of wor- 
 ship are of little worth, unless they become suggestive, 
 waking up religious emotions, and giving utterance and di- 
 rection to genuine feelings of reverence and devotion. 
 Who can be witness to what we have seen — the "wonders 
 of the Lord in the great deep," and feel no sentiment of 
 
 3 
 
26 TALKING BUNTING. 
 
 thankfulness, no desire to honor and obey, to praise and 
 adore the merciful Benefactor, who has preserved us in all 
 our lives, supplied all our wants, comforted our hearts in 
 sorrow, and given us the promise of a glorious and happy 
 immortality ? 
 
 May 15. — Eleven ships in sight at one time, this morn- 
 ing. Scarcely a day has passed, that we have not fallen in 
 with one or more. Sometimes they come near to us, at 
 others are so far off that only the topsails can be seen, ap- 
 pearing no larger than little boats. One day, when about 
 half across the ocean, we spoke a brig, which had been 
 thirty-six days at sea, bound from London to Quebec. She 
 had no tidings to communicate, no request to make, but 
 feeling lonely and discouraged at such poor progi'ess, de- 
 sired a little relief from the monotony of the sea by a 
 trumpet-talk with us. At another time, the second mate 
 came into the cabin while we are at dinner, saying " a ship 
 is off our beam, talking bunting to us." " Answer him," 
 said the captain, and all the passengers ran on deck to see 
 the process. Small signals of different colors are set in the 
 shrouds, and exchanged which, like old-fashioned tele- 
 graphs, have a certain meaning affixed to them, by which 
 enough can be communicated to tell the name, nation, lati- 
 tude and longitude, time out, port of destination, and so 
 forth. Sailors generally have a great dislike to all attempts 
 at sociability, between ships on the sea, and avoid them 
 when possible. 
 
 But such interruptions serve to break the monotony of a 
 voyage, and afford subject of conversation for an hour. 
 One on land would be surprised, perhaps would laugh, to 
 see what interest is awakened at the sight of a ship, a lost 
 spar, a stick of wood, or any object floating on the surface 
 of the sea — a whale, a shoal of porpoises, a shark, a lonely 
 gull, a Mother Carey's chicken — any thmg to divert the at- 
 tention, from gazing at the broad heavens above, bounded 
 by the blue sea beneath. The fact is, man is not all 
 selfish ; he can not contrac . himself^ like a tortoise, into his 
 
RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY, 27 
 
 own shell, and be content. There is in him something, 
 noble, liberal, expansive, which, like the tendril of a vine, 
 feels about for a support by which to rise, or more matured, 
 to give support to others. He treads upon an outer world 
 and feels how dependent he is, how intimately, and in- 
 separably his happiness and very being are blended with ob- 
 jects which a merciful Creator has placed about him. 
 What a strange and unnatural whim it was which pos- 
 sessed the minds of men, claiming the highest degree of 
 sanctity, to expatriate themselves, and hide away in a 
 desert place from the good, and grand, and beautiful works 
 of God ! 
 
 The condition of our cabin has been again rendered 
 somewhat uncomfortable by the impertinence and dictato- 
 rial overbearing of one of our passengers, who is in every- 
 thing, but his religious opinions, a very kind, companion- 
 able and excellent man, one whom we much esteem. A 
 foreigner by birth and education, he has not learned to ap- 
 preciate aright the independence of American character, 
 and the principles of religious toleration, free inquiry, and 
 equal rights. Unfortunately, there are too many, even 
 among protestants, not unlike him, who sink the gentleman 
 and Christian in the sectarist, and forget the commonest 
 civilities of life. He has been trained to obey with- 
 out a murmur, submit without an inquiry, to what- 
 ever his superiors demand of him ; and, in turn, he 
 has been accustomed to receive the same unquestioning 
 submission from those he thinks his inferiors, which, of 
 course, are all those who do not sustain the same rank in 
 the true church as himself. Some of us were willing to 
 admit his right to supremacy in matters of opinion, and so, 
 after exercising a full share of long suffering, " we stood 
 fast in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free," 
 and manfully defended our own views. Like most religious 
 discussions, the consequences were, at first, unpleasant ; 
 but, exercising the virtue of Christian charity and modera- 
 
28 MARITIME SKILL. 
 
 tion, our friendship was not marred, but our mutual respect, 
 on the whole, greatly strengthened. 
 
 The mischief, of which the world complains, has not re- 
 sulted necessarily from religious controversies on points of 
 theology where there is an honest disagreement ; but either 
 from an overbeaiing or dictatorial manner, which demands 
 assent, without producing conviction ; adhering with a su- 
 perstitious and wicked pertinacity to old opinions, for 
 which no sufficient reason is given, merely because they 
 are venerable for age, and are our own, or else, from the un- 
 kind and unchristian spirit, in which they are carried on — ex- 
 hibiting any thing but a christian temper or regard for truth. 
 
 He who is unable to control his own passions, unwilling 
 to be convinced of the truth, or too proud and stubborn 
 to confess his errors when pointed out to him, should 
 never trust himself to er ter the arena of religious debate, 
 lest he injure himself and profit no other. The end of the 
 commandment is love out of a pure heart and a good con- 
 science, and faith unfeigned." That should all men strive 
 to obey. 
 
 May 16. — Good courage! We are promised, this morn- 
 ing, that we shall see land before night. Pleasant sight ! — 
 though it shall be to us the land of strangers ! It is a 
 wonderful achievement of human skill, that enables the 
 mariner to note his exact position at sea. How fixed and 
 benevolent are the laws of God in all their adaptation ! 
 The sun, and stars, and earth, move on with the utmost 
 precision. They form the basis of his calculation. The 
 needle gravitatcb steadily towards a fixed point, and the 
 compass directs him in his course. The quadrant marks 
 the altitude of the sun, and guides his reckoning. When 
 there is apparent imperfection in the variation of the needle, 
 which philosophy has not explained, the amount is under- 
 stood, and security is not endangered. What a blessed thing 
 it would be, if all men would study moral navigation, and 
 learn how to steer their frail barks securely over the ocean 
 
SUBMISSION UNDER DISAPPOINTMENTS. 29 
 
 of life to the port of everlasting peace. The laws of God 
 are equally plain and invariable in their adaptation to all the 
 conditions and circumstances of life. Man has only to 
 obey them, as they apply to his whole being, in order to se- 
 cure the end contemplated by the Infinite Benevolence of 
 God in their bestowment. Sin is a transgression of the 
 law, and punishment a penalty inflicted to produce refor- 
 mation. Let him who would be happy, be true to himself, 
 and obedient to the will of his Father in heaven. 
 
 The wind has lulled into a calm, and our eyes must sleep 
 another night without the sight of land. Disappointments 
 are necessary to try the strength of a man's faith. Always 
 prosperous, he would be like a hot-house plant, unfitted for 
 the real world. He who can not be patient under denial is 
 ignorant of the sources of enjoyment. No man has a right 
 to inquire why God made the world as he did, or governs 
 it as he does. It is the part of true wisdom to find what 
 his will is : submission is then his duty. His happiness de- 
 pends upon doing it. There is, sometimes, as much virtue 
 in endeavor as in performance. Both are essential to a 
 true life. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Sight of Land. — Hailed by some Irishmen. — Leave the Ship. — An Irish 
 Hooker. — A Dinner. — Approaching the Land. — Appearance of the Coast. 
 — Landmg. — A Stroll. — Taking Tea. — Kinsale. — Servants. — Beset by Beg- 
 gars. — An Irish Coach. — Ride to Cork. — A grand Prospect. 
 
 THE LANDING. 
 
 May 17. — Rose at daylight, and on going on deck was 
 greeted with the pleasing intelligence that a light-house had 
 been in sight several hours. I took the glass, and traced 
 the rough shore of Ireland, from Cape Clear eastward, dis- 
 
 3* 
 
80 PREPARATIONS FOR LANDING. 
 
 tant some twenty miles. "A change came o'er the spirit 
 of my dream." J breathed more freely. My blood coursed 
 more rapidly. All was joy and gladness. I roused up our 
 fellow-passengers, that they might enjoy the pleasure also. 
 How much is one's happiness enhanced by making others 
 happy ! And it sometimes costs little to make them so. 
 
 Assured by the captain, at the breakfast table, that we 
 should probably fall in with a fishing boat before noon, 
 which would come along-side to sell fish, we could have an 
 opportunity to carry out our previous plan, and land on the 
 south coast of Ireland, thus avoiding the delay frequently 
 experienced at this season of the year in sailing to Liver- 
 pool. We hastened to make the necessary preparation — 
 packed our sacks with what we should need for a few 
 weeks, arranged about the deposit of our trunks, wrote up 
 our notes, and waited the arrival of a boat. Before noon, 
 several were in sight, making for our course. We were 
 under gentle sail, with all our canvas set. At 12, one 
 hailed us and came along-side — a miserable, dirty-looking 
 affair, manned by a ragged, piratical-looking set of fellows 
 as were ever looked on. The captain doubted if we should 
 get a better, so we authorized him to contract for our 
 conveyance to the Cove of Cork, on the most favorable 
 terms he could. 
 
 " Where are you from ?" asked the captain. 
 
 " Sure, an' ar'nt we from Cork ? Would yer honor be 
 afther buyin' soome fish ?" 
 
 " Well, take a line." 
 
 The sailors threw one, which they all scrambled after, 
 and finally succeeded in making it fast to the mast of their 
 craft. 
 
 " Will you take some passengers on shore, at the Cove 
 of Cork?" 
 
 " Sure, an' it's the same thing we'd like to be afther do- 
 ing," answered all at once. 
 
 " For what price will you land them there ?" 
 
LEAVING THE SHIP. 31 
 
 " How mooney might there be ?" asked two or three. 
 
 " Four, with small sacks." 
 
 " Two poounds a-piece, then ;" answered two voices. 
 
 " They will not give it. It is a great deal too much. So 
 let go the line." 
 
 "An' hoow much would theginthilmin bay afther giving?" 
 demanded one. 
 
 " Two pounds for all four, if you land them at the Cove." 
 
 " Sure, an' we'll do that same thing to plase the ginthil- 
 min," ejaculated all at once. 
 
 " Haul in, there, and let them come close along-side." 
 
 They veered about in the most awkward manner, as if 
 afraid our ship would roll over them, all acting as com- 
 manders, one ordering this and an other that, until the pa- 
 tience of our captain was well nigh exhausted. They 
 finally succeeded in bringing their boat within jumping 
 distance, and we all leaped from the main-chains, at con- 
 siderable risk of our lives and limbs, into the wildest, cra- 
 ziest looking craft that ever floated on the sea, the Chinese 
 junk not excepted. Our bags, coats, and luncheon fol- 
 lowed. In a moment the hawser was cast off; we waved 
 adieu to our excellent and gentlemanly commander, and to 
 all on board — towards whom we had come to feel a warm 
 attachment, and soon found ourselves floating far astern 
 the Siddons, twenty miles from shore, and in a little, black, 
 dirty fishing boat — called a " Hooker," managed by five 
 men and two boys, all looking, if possible, worse than the 
 boat itself We took courage when we learned that the 
 name of the hooker was the " Teetotaller," and had an old 
 man on board called " Admiral," who showed us a temper- 
 ance medal which had been given him by Father Mathew. 
 Likeness of principles soon inspires friendship, and sobriety 
 begets confidence. We soon contrived to get up a conver- 
 sation on various topics connected with the business of fish- 
 ing, by which we became acquainted with the hard fate of 
 these poor fellows. They spend weeks on the sea, amid 
 
32 AN IRISH HOOKER. 
 
 cold and storms, toiling at great peril for a nost wretched 
 and precarious subsistence. We inquired of them about 
 the state of affairs in Europe, which were so threatening 
 when we left home ; especially in England and their own 
 country. But they were ignorant of every thing discon- 
 nected with their business; none of them being able to read 
 or write. Their home and government was in this little 
 vessel, which they managed upon shares — the owner fitting 
 it out with sails, rigging, and tackle, for one half the profits. 
 Their income affords a scanty support. Sometimes they 
 go out thirty and forty leagues, and are absent a week or 
 two, without any success. At other times, they return in 
 a few days with a full cargo. 
 
 My readers will pardon me for the description of an Irish 
 "hooker," when they remember that many thousand human 
 beings live in them. It is some thirty feet long, nine feet 
 beam, drawing seven feet, loaded. Ours had a rough 
 board deck, five feet below the gunwale ; the midships 
 filled with a large pile of netting and buoys, or floats, made 
 of calf-skins, sewed tight, as if whole, and filled with air, 
 lookmg like hideous monsters from the deep. It was sloop- 
 rigged, — some are schooners, — with a high pointed main- 
 sail, the peak of which ran up far above the mast, a jib and 
 flying-jib, all besmeared with grease and tar, to preserve 
 them from the influence of the weather. Forward of the 
 mast was the cabin which was entered by getting down 
 two or three feet into a transverse opening two feet wide, 
 in which stood a common iron pot, filled with burning turf. 
 Then, by doubling down as best we could, shutting our 
 eyes meanwhile, to keep out the smoke, we thrust our 
 heads through a small aperture eighteen inches wide and 
 fifteen high, and dragged our bodies into the *' gentleman's 
 cabin." The carpet was loose oat straw, about eight 
 inches thick, which served, at the same time, for chairs 
 and beds. From the straw to the roof was just two feet, 
 by measure. The breadth of the cabin was the width of 
 
A PRIMITIVE DINNER. 33 
 
 the hooker, and, fore and aft, the length of a man. Vari- 
 ous articles were stowed into the forward end. Into this 
 Calcutta black-hole we crawled, during a violent shower 
 which came on, and remained till we were well nigh sufTo- 
 cated with the smoke from the pot of turf, which came in 
 by the " companion way," or main side hatch. There was 
 no opening for it to escape. The helmsman had a small 
 box-compass set loose on the deck, by which he steered. 
 The commands were mutually given, in a broad dialect we 
 could not understand. We felt that we were among stran- 
 gers and approaching a foreign land. 
 
 The dinner hour arrived, and it was proposed to cook us 
 some fresh mackerel. We assented, but wondered how it 
 was to be done. Half a dozen were prepared, put in a pot, 
 and set upon the other filled with turf. By dint of hard 
 blowing, the pot was made to boil, though closely watched. 
 For a table a rough board was placed on a pile of fish-nets, 
 so as to keep a steady position, on which we spread a 
 newspaper for a cloth. On this the fish were placed and 
 " dinner was ready." No knife, no fork, no plate. These 
 are needless things for ultra-utilitarians. Fingers before 
 forks ; boards before tables. They are more primitive, 
 more natural. We asked for salt, and a man brought some in 
 his hands and poured it on the table. S-alt-cellars are need- 
 less expenditures. It was of a quality between table and 
 Turk's Island, a sort of " coarse fine." We ate as best we 
 could, and gave portions of the liberal allowance furnished 
 us by the generous steward of the Siddons, of which the 
 poor, half-starved fellows partook with a hearty good relish, 
 mixing in many expressions of thankfulness Such was our 
 first meal among foreigners. 
 
 The wind freshened into a stiff breeze, the waves rolled 
 high, sometimes dashing the spray all over us, and our 
 little craft was tossed about most fearfully. We sheltered 
 ourselves as best we could and submitted to our fate. The 
 novelty of our position filled us with indescribable emotions. 
 
3 i N \KED SHORES. 
 
 The approach to the shores of the Old World is full of 
 novelty and excitement. Reality begins to supplant imagi- 
 nation, and scenes are developed at once strange and pleas- 
 ing, in almost every respect dissimilar to those with which 
 one has been familiar in his own country. Not least among 
 the sources of happiness in that hour, was the thought that 
 the treacherous sea had been crossed, and we were soon to 
 set foot on the solid ground. Tnis thought would have 
 filled us with joy, had we not been compelled to turn a 
 surly look, half contemptuous, half imploring, at the old 
 ocean ; as much as to say, Though I despise thee, 1 will not 
 vent my detestation, lest I wake thy wrath, to be remem- 
 bered when I recross thy trackless and turbulent waves, to 
 ray country and my home. I have crossed thy domain. 
 Let us be at peace. Spite retained for injuries past, de- 
 stroys the peace of him who cherishes it. 
 
 As we drew nearer, the long line of undulating coast ap- 
 peared more and more distinct. The " Old Head of Kin- 
 sale," jutting several miles into the sea, and rising to the 
 height of two hundred and fifty feet, crowned with a large 
 white light-house and the crumbling walls of an old castle, 
 like the out-sentinel of another world, stood upon our left, 
 and protected the little bay we were entering from the 
 strong winds we had encountered. On our right, arose 
 rocky and precipitous cliffs, which stretched eastward out of 
 sight, and whose base is for ever lashed by the surging waves 
 of the broad Atlantic. Before us the land rose by gentle 
 acclivities, covered all over with little fields of various 
 shapes and colors. The fresh-plowed ground looked black 
 from the rain just fallen. In some the new-sprung grain 
 looked green and soft. The close-fed pastures were of a 
 lighter hue, in which sheep, and goats, and cattle were graz- 
 ing. The bright yellow furz, in full blossom, scattered about 
 the borders of the fields, or in large patches, here and there, 
 added greatly to the novelty and beauty of the scenery. 
 Then, the asses and mules, heavily laden, winding up the 
 steep sides of the hills, driven by barefoot boys or girls; the 
 
ENTERING THE HARBOR. 35 
 
 peculiar dress of the men and women working in the fields ; 
 the singular appearance of the low mud hovels ; the entire 
 absence of forests, or copses of wood, with scarce a tree or 
 shrub in view ; the queer construction of the water craft 
 we met or passed ; the hoarse, broad dialect heard from the 
 boats and the shore ; every thing was strange and curious, 
 wholly unlike any portion of our own country, or aught I 
 had seen or imagined before. 
 
 By a single tack we entered, through a narrow passage, 
 into the calm and beautiful harbor, completely surrounded 
 by rising grounds, with a large fort in front, whose " war- 
 dogs," mounted on lofty battlements, frowned gruffly at our 
 entrance, like a maddened bull, ready for attack. One 
 can hardly imagine the feelings of enthusiasm we felt on 
 finding ourselves secure from the rocking sea, and approach- 
 ing a large towQ, pleasantly situated around the Cove up 
 which we were sailing. We wound round the low point 
 on which stand the ruins of an old fort, and came directly 
 up to the town. We were hailed in rough, hoarse lan- 
 guage, by a set of ragged and filthy fisherwomen, who paddled 
 their dirty boats out to meet us and buy our fish, if we had 
 any. But the only produce of this voyage was three live 
 Yankees and a French priest — poor property in an Irish 
 market. Several boats had arrived just before us, on board 
 of which were several women, wrangling, and swearing, 
 and scolding, in words so loud that they echoed back from 
 the town in no very agreeable accents, as they broke the 
 stillness of that quiet and beautiful scene. 
 
 The joy we felt on leaping from the boat to the steps of 
 the "Royal George Hotel," where we lodge, was un- 
 bounded. It surpassed description. The declining sun, 
 which had been obscured since noon, burst through its 
 cloudy veil, and shone brightly and beautifully upon the 
 green hills and that part of the town not shaded by the ris- 
 ing ground in the rear. The birds sang merrily, and the 
 sweet aroma of the flowers perfumed the mild zephyrs of 
 evening. The scene was, to us, enchanting. We could 
 
36 EXTRA PAY DEMANDED. 
 
 not restrain our delight. We ran, and frolicked, and chat- 
 tered like children just out of school. This saved us from 
 the appearance of awkwardness we should otherwise have 
 exhibited, from the uncontrollable movements of our loco- 
 motive machinery, which had got somewhat deranged by 
 our toppling motions on ship-board. We managed to get 
 into the " Royal George," whither our boatmen followed 
 us, demanding some extra pay for drink-money. We re- 
 fused ; first, because we did not understand that after pay- 
 ing, according to contract, £2, any further claim could be 
 rightfully made against us ; second, because they agreed 
 to carry us to Cork, but had brought us to Kinsale, not 
 half the distance. This we overlooked, so glad were we 
 to get on shore, any where; third, beciuse we could not 
 see what " drink-money" had to do with a temperance 
 crew of the " Teetotaller." But we could not reason the 
 matter. They said it was the custom to do so ; and gave 
 us any thing but their blessing when we plead ignorance of 
 all such laws, civil, social, or martial. 
 
 After warming and drying ourselves by a good fire, we 
 issued out to make our first acquaintance with an Irish 
 town. We wandered about through several streets, and 
 ascended an eminence on the north, where we saw whole 
 streets of low cottages, with roofs fallen in, and nothing 
 but the naked stone walls remaining. The remark of one 
 was, " They must have had a great fire here." A few 
 turns more and we came to other streets in the same deso- 
 late condition, when the same remark was repeated by 
 another, forgetting we were in the Old World, where 
 ruins were to be looked for — in Ireland, where poor ten- 
 ants are robbed of their dwellings by their merciless land- 
 lords. Passing the Catholic Church, we saw our clerical 
 friend going in with his missal in his hand. 
 
 Fatigued with a short walk, we returned and ordered 
 tea. This opened to us an entire new scene in the cus- 
 toms of social life, and the art of hotel keeping. It was 
 served on this wise. The table was set without a cloth, 
 
TAKING TEA. 37 
 
 furnished with a plate and knife, a cup and saucer for each. 
 A square loaf of bread was placed in the center, with a 
 dozen small pieces of butter, the size of hickory nuts, on a 
 plate beside it. A sugar bowl, milk pitcher, and tea-pot, 
 and a small square box beside, completed the table furni- 
 ture. A tea-kettle was set by the side of the grate, when 
 the waiter said, " Tay is ready, sir." We sat down, and 
 looked inquiringly at each other. One essayed to pour out 
 the tea, when lo ! the pot was found to be empty. We 
 explored the interior and found no tea. We stared at each 
 other, and burst into a hearty laugh. The waiter had left 
 the room. The bell was rung, and he returned. We in- 
 formed him of his mistake. " Och," said he, " here is the 
 tay," opening the little ornamented box, which contained 
 two apartments, one filled with black, and the other with 
 green tea. " An' ye'll plase put in the tay, an' I'll be af- 
 ther poouring the wather upon it." We did so, and the pot 
 was filled with water from the kettle and sat upon the 
 table. In a little time it was duly steeped, and we pro- 
 ceeded to partake of a meal served in a manner quite 
 novel to us. 
 
 After tea, we arranged for our departure to Cork on the 
 following morning. A large crowd of men, women, and 
 children, most of them young, ragged, and dirty, were 
 gathered in the street to hear the stories and witness the 
 feats of a stripling harlequin, who attempted some very 
 foolish and unattractive exploits, a woman, meanwhile, go- 
 ing round for such contributions as she could raise, to en- 
 courage the renegade to go on with his nonsense. The 
 " ha'-pennies " came in as sparingly as they do to the mu- 
 sic grinders in our own country. 
 
 K I N S A L E. 
 
 May 18. — We retired early last night, with hearts full 
 of gratitude to Almighty God for having preserved our 
 lives, and given us a safe and pleasant voyage across the 
 
 4 
 
38 A SLEEPLESS NIGHT. 
 
 Atlantic. We had fond hopes of a quiet night, and sound 
 and refreshing sleep, but were doomed to disappointment. 
 The transition we had passed, the strange scenes we had 
 witnessed, the influence of the tay, or something else, so 
 disquieted my nerves that I could not sleep at all. Oh, the 
 horrors of a sleepless night ! How miserable, how per- 
 fectly wretched ! I wished myself at home, on board the 
 ship, snugly cradled in my birth, to be rocked to sleep by 
 the rolling waves, — any where, but to be rolling and tumb- 
 ling in a fever of sleepless excitement. How forcible were 
 the words of poor Sancho Panza, " Blessings on the head 
 of him who first invented sleep." I never rejoiced as I did 
 this morning, to see the dawn of day, to be able to forsake 
 my couch of sleepless misery, and go forth and find relief 
 in the world of realities. 
 
 I roused my companions and started for a more gene- 
 ral inspection of the town. We passed through all the 
 principal streets and ascended the lofty eminence called 
 " Compass Hill," which overlooks the bay and a large tract 
 of the surrounding country and commands a fine prospect 
 of the town, several villas, the forts, harbors, " Old Head," 
 and the sea. The sun arose in sweetest beauty and ascended 
 a cloudless sky. The birds sang sweetly, and twittered from 
 spray to spray in the gardens and orchards. The fields were 
 decked in their richest robes. Several small boats laden 
 with various articles for the market were coming down 
 the Bandon river which forms a frith in the rear of the 
 town. The hum of busy feet and voices in the town, the 
 rolling beat of the reveille in the capacious barracks op- 
 posite, the marshaling of the red-coat soldiery, every thing 
 wore the charm of novelty. 
 
 We strolled about visiting the spacious grounds and 
 splendid garden of some nobleman whose name we have 
 forgotten, squinting at the extensive military preparations 
 and looking at the lean market and leaner inhabitants — 
 wretched, squalid, and filthy — assembled about it. Here 
 were women with early vegetables, milk, bread, butter, fish, 
 
THE TOWN. 39 
 
 or somelning else to sell ; then a long row of men with 
 spades waiting for some man to hire them. There went 
 an ass loaded with two monstrous panniers suspended 
 across its back and reaching nearly to the ground, con- 
 laining milk, potatoes, turf, or some other marketable stuff; 
 everything looked odd, awkward, strange and miserable. 
 
 The town itself is dilapidated, being of little importance 
 compared with its former rank. It bears the mark of age, 
 and must have been at one time a place of great business. 
 We are told it was once the depot of all outward bound 
 fleets, having a safe and commodious harbor for ships of 
 all sizes ; that it was so much more noted than Cork, that 
 letters were directed to "Cork, near Kinsale." The Spa- 
 niards at one time had possession of ihe town. Prince 
 Rupert took shelter here during the protectorate of Crom- 
 well, at which time, and in the reign of James II, it was 
 the scene of several bloody engagements. It suffered so se- 
 verely, that it has never recovered its former importance. 
 A strong fort commands the harbor. There are several 
 venerable churches ; that of St. Multaria was built in the 
 14th century. The Catholic chapel and Carmelite priory, 
 the workhouse, the barracks, and the jail are prominent 
 objects of attraction. The houses, generally, look dingy. 
 Nothing about the place indicates thrift or comfort, except 
 a few private dwellings. 
 
 After a breakfast, like our tea of the preceding night, 
 with the addition of two boiled eggs a piece, we paid our 
 bill and arranged to leave. Each took his small sack and 
 started for the coach office. We were followed by a boy, 
 who demanded pay for himself, the chambermaid and 
 the waiter. The justice of this claim we did not under- 
 stand. We had paid our bill — for tea, Is 6d ; for lodging. 
 2s 6d; for breakfast 2s, (-Si 37 ;) and Mr. Boots and Miss 
 Chambermaid we had not seen. We carried in our own 
 baggage and brought it away. What else was wanted ? 
 
 " Sure, an we get nothin but our chances ; an the gintil- 
 min will not lave us without somethin." 
 
40 THE MAIL COACH. 
 
 " Your chances ! what are they ? We take our chances 
 in our country and work our way as best we can. We paid 
 our bill, for all that we had, and all that was demanded, 
 now what do you want more?" 
 
 " Jist what yer honors plase — a shillun to the sarvant, a 
 shillun to the chambermaid, and sixpence to the boots." 
 
 " Why, that will make half a crown for each ; half a sov- 
 reign in all." 
 
 •'Ay, jist that same thing it will be, sure, and we'll 
 pray God to prosper yer journey." 
 
 " There, take that, and go to grass, and take your chan- 
 ces with Nebuchadnezzar. We will give you no more. 
 This is not the way to do business any how. We pay 
 for what we have, but do not beg for charities, nor give 
 gratuities on demand^' 
 
 By this time we had arrived at the coach office, and 
 poor boots, made himself, very busy, in detailing his un- 
 lucky chances with these Americans. The coach stood 
 before the door, and several passengers were already tak- 
 ing their seats, although the horses were not yet hitched to 
 it. As we had engaged outside seats, for the purpose of 
 seeing, we were anxious to secure good ones, so we mount- 
 ed a tier behind the driver's box, which was wide enough 
 for our party of four. Behind the coach, over the baggage box, 
 is another seat, and another still, facing backwards, so that 
 eight passengers can ride there ; then two with the driver, 
 making, in all, fourteen outside, while only six can ride inside. 
 The outside seats are much the pleasantest in good weather, 
 or when it is dusty. They are, generally, all occupied, 
 when, perhaps, there will not be a passenger inside. Even 
 some who pay for inside seats, which are at about one-third 
 higher price, often ride outside, when the weather is fine. 
 
 While waiting for the horses and mails, we noticed seve- 
 ral sleek-looking young men, dressed in blue clothes, with 
 standing collars to their coats, on which were figures in sil- 
 ver with polished leather tops to their hats. We could not 
 make out their business ; they eyed us very closely, and al 
 
A SCENE OF MISERY. 41 
 
 one time we supposed them to be custom-house officers, 
 looking after our baggage ; for nobody had asked us about 
 it. We afterwards learned that they were policemen and 
 were taking particular notice of us, so as to be able to de- 
 scribe us, if ever inquired of In these rebellious times, 
 Americans are looked upon with some suspicion, as well as 
 all who sympathise with the people. 
 
 But another scene soon occurred, illustrative of Ireland's 
 degradation. An old woman, went among the passengers 
 about the door of the office begging. I was the only one 
 at the time on the coach, the others had left to escape a 
 slight shower. She came to me, and reached up her lean, 
 shrivelled hand, with a "Plase yer honor, and will ye give the 
 poor woman a ha-'penny, and God bless ye for it ?" Her 
 dress had been patched with as many colors as Joseph's 
 coat, and was all tattered and torn at that. Some old 
 clogs, like shoes, were on her feet, and a ragged shawl w^as 
 thrown over her head. Her ankles, arms, and neck were 
 naked, and she might well say, with the prophet, " My lean- 
 ness, my leanness ;" or with Job, " Thou hast filled me with 
 wrinkles, and my leanness beareth witness to my face." 
 I had no heart to send her away empty. So I took a bag 
 of ginger-cakes I had provided against sea-sickness, (which 
 danger being over, I could well spare,) and gave her a hand- 
 ful. In less than a minute, more than twenty gathered 
 around the coach, each striving to get nearest, all reaching 
 up their lean hands, and saying, " May God bless ye, sir ;" 
 " May God Almighty return ye safe to yer home and yer 
 blissid coounthry;" "May God reward ye in heaven;" 
 " May the Hooly Virgin protict ye ;" " Och, sir, ye'll geve 
 me some, for Jesus' sake, for my poor, famishing childers ;" 
 " Plase give me some, sir," said a little, ragged boy, who 
 had climbed up the wheel, " and I'll carry them to my poor, 
 sick mother." 
 
 A young woman crowded up, with a child in her arms. 
 Both looked as if half-starved. I reached her a hand full, 
 and as she took them and looked up to express her thanks, 
 
 4* 
 
42 WRETCHEDNESS. 
 
 I saw big tears trembling in her eyes, and she turned away 
 without speaking. Not so with all, for many besought me 
 the second time, and the old woman who came first put in 
 her request the tJiird time, with the most solemn protesta- 
 tions that she "had not a single bish-cake at all, at all." 
 Some others hid theirs away in their bosoms, and then said 
 they had not received one, and plead, in God's name, for a 
 single cake. I could not appease them till the last cake 
 was gone and the bag turned inside out. They then with- 
 drew, with many appeals to God for blessings on the " kind 
 gintilmin," and stood about the buildings, some showing 
 their cakes to the hosts who continued to collect, begging 
 for a taste. I saw the little boy who asked some for his 
 mother, steal out of the crowd and run away, while several 
 others chased after, trying to rob him. 
 
 It was not curiosity that brought these poor creatures 
 about me. They were actually hungry. Their hollow 
 looks betokened the emptiness of their bellies. A gentle- 
 man assured us that probably one-third of the people 
 about Kinsale did not get a full meal, even of the coarsest 
 food, one day in seven, and many families w^ent whole days 
 with nothing. And when I remembered that this was not 
 far from Skibbereen, where the famine of winter before last 
 did its deadliest work, I could not discredit him. The very 
 looks of the people satisfied me that he told the truth. 
 What a shame that such multitudes should live in such 
 wretchedness and ignorance under the government of the 
 Mistress of the world ! And the evil seemed greater when 
 I saw large tracts of fine land uncultivated, — kept for pas- 
 turing, and the hunting and pleasure grounds of noblemen! 
 The land is fertile, but husbanded in the worst manner. 
 The rents and taxes are so enormous that the tenants can 
 not, with their awkward manner and limited means, make it 
 pay them half a living for their labor. So the people clus- 
 ter about the towns, to labor what they can for hire, and 
 bejz for the rest. The scene of this mornino; was such as I 
 never witnessed before. I never saw humanity so de- 
 
RIDE TO CORK. 43 
 
 graded, not even among the slaves of our Southern States. 
 I wonder there is no more interest felt in the welfare and 
 improvement of this people. It would seem the interest of 
 the owners of these estates, the honor and prosperity of 
 the nation, would produce a better state of things, to say 
 nothing about the demands of Christian philanthropy. But 
 I shall, doubtless, be wiser on these subjects when I have 
 seen more of the actual state of this country. 
 
 At length all was ready ; the driver on his box, and the 
 guard, a burly old fellow, with a bright-red coat trimmed 
 with black, mounted the hind seat, with several little mail 
 bags in his hand, and gave command ; when off we started 
 at a smart trot, which was continued, up hill and down, 
 till we reached the half-way house, where the horses were 
 changed in less than three minutes, and we were again 
 on our way. The road is excellent, being well graded and 
 thoroughly macadamized. The stages being short, not over 
 eight or nine miles, the horses are driven that distance in 
 an hour, so that we reached Cork, nineteen miles, in two 
 hours. A supply of hands are in waiting at the relay sta- 
 tions, who change the teams without calling the driver 
 from his seat. He simply throws down his reins and sits 
 at his ease, till others are handed him. He has nothing to 
 do with horses, but to drive them. 
 
 The prospect from the hill we passed, in ascending from 
 the cove in which Kinsale is situated, is extensive, varied, 
 and beautiful. The bay, the harbor, the town and its envi- 
 rons, a vast region of undulating country, with its green 
 and gently sloping hills, and rich and verdant vallies, 
 bounded by a distant range of mountains on the north, and 
 the broad ocean jutting into the land here and there, on the 
 south, present a landscape as grand and pleasing as I ever saw. 
 But the beauty of it is sadly marred, and the glory of it van- 
 ishes when the eye falls upon the low mud hovels, waste 
 fields, and squalid population, close at hand. Mingled feel- 
 ings of admiration and regret, of thankfulness and pity, were 
 
44 THE CITY. 
 
 awakened in my breast, and I could smile at the beautifu. 
 works of God, and weep for the misery of man. 
 
 For some distance we traced the line of the great south- 
 western railroad, which is under contract, to extend from 
 Dublin by Cork and Bandon, and thence to Bantry Bay. 
 It is completed nearly half the way — to Clonmel — and par- 
 tially graded the remainder. The political troubles in this 
 country, and the scarcity of money, have caused a tempo- 
 rary suspension of the work. When completed it is 
 thought that passengers from America, by the Liverpool 
 mail steamers, will pass over it, and thus shorten the pas- 
 sage from England to America about two days. There 
 will also be considerable local business along the road, 
 which can not fail to improve this part of the country, 
 now said to be the most neglected and wretched portion of 
 the Island. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A DAY IN CORK. 
 
 A View of Cork. — A Reflection. — An unexpected Acquaintance. — Irish Gra- 
 titude for American Benevolence. — Mardyke. — An American Ship. — Wea- 
 riness. — A Lunch. — Various Topics. — A Car Ride. — Blarney Castle. — Re- 
 flections. — The Blarney Stone. — Englishmen. — Father Mathew. — Descrip- 
 tion of the City. 
 
 CORK. 
 
 The approach to Cork, from the west, is remarkably 
 beautiful and picturesque. The road winds down into the 
 valley from a lofty ridge, which overlooks the whole city 
 and its suburbs, and a wide extent of undulating country, 
 through which the river Lee meanders, in its way from the 
 mountains on the northwest to the cove just below the city. 
 A ridge of hills bounds the opposite side of the valley, 
 which swell, and recede, and rise in gentle acclivities to 
 
STOP IN A YARD. 45 
 
 irregular heights. The sides of these hills are thickly 
 studded with elegant mansions, charmingly embowered in 
 copses of trees. In tlie bottom of the valley, and extend- 
 ing up the bases of the hills on either side, is the city, with 
 its cupolas, towers, and spires, buildings of various colors, 
 styles and dimensions, its ships and steamboats, its quays 
 and bridges, and fine estuary, its several prisons, with ex- 
 tensive and lofty white walls, its immense barracks on the 
 rising ground above the city, its Bishop's palace, and large 
 poor-house, its churches, priories, convents, monuments and 
 promenades, all looking fresh and thrifty, which addgreatly 
 to the variety and beauty of the picture. 
 
 " Seen from this point," says an Irish writer, " the view 
 is the finest of which any city can boast. And did the 
 traveler stop here, he might well exclaim, ' The beautiful 
 city of Cork !' But what appears at a distance so beau- 
 tiful and imposing, will not admit of a nearer survey. The 
 streets and lanes have been built without the least regard 
 to order, comfort, access, cleanlirje^s, or convenience ; and, 
 consequently, they abound in the most disgusting filth, and 
 exhibit more than their ample quota of the most squalid 
 poverty." 
 
 This remark does not apply to all parts of the town ; 
 for, in some portions of it, the houses are well built, and 
 the streets wide, neat, and handsome. 
 
 Our coach carried us through divers streets and lanes, 
 stopping only at the Post Oifioe, till it brought up in a small 
 yard adjoining the stable. Here the passengers and bag- 
 gage were discharged, — after a gentle tip of the hat from the 
 driver, meaning a shilling a-pieco to pay him for driving us 
 here, after having paid the proprietor a high fare for the 
 use of his horses — to be pirated away by the runners of the 
 hotels, who are, if possible, more impertinent than the same 
 class of annoyances at home. After a brief consultation, 
 we concluded to go to the " Royal," seeing we were in the 
 Queen's dominions, and at a time when it would be no 
 favorable si^n to be suspected of disloyalty. 
 
4G EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 
 
 We started out immediately on om' business — to see the 
 town; for we left home with no intention of spending our 
 time and money in idleness, but resolved to make the best 
 possible use of both, in a way to gain the greatest amount 
 of knowledge in the time appointed, and at the least actual 
 expense. Our time and means were limited ; and both have 
 a value which should never be squandered by any one for 
 sluggish ease, or trifling pleasures. The active and judi- 
 cious pursuit of knowledge and happiness, under all cir- 
 cumstances, and with any amount of means, always gives 
 the best capacity to relish them if attained, or to bear dis- 
 appointment in case of failure. It is only after years of 
 toil, and an economy amounting almost to parsimonv, that 
 I have been able to start upon this journey — the dream and 
 hope of my youth, and the plan of my maturer years. 
 And I am now fully resolved to lose no time which can be 
 appropriated to the acquisition of information, so long and 
 so ardently desired. Mine ?liall be made, if possible, a tour 
 of pleasure indeed — a pleasure which shall not end when 
 the mere excitement of seeing is over, but be reawakened 
 when memory recalls the past at the instance of judgment, 
 demanding an equivalent for this absence and expenditure. 
 
 The pleasure of acquiring is not the only aim of a true 
 heart. The abihty to possess, to employ, to make useful, 
 are of equal importance. The former has been too con- 
 stantly pursued by our countrymen, perhaps, while the lat- 
 ter has not received the attention it deserves. But such is 
 the natural course of things with the inexperienced and 
 aspiring. Our nation is yoiing. Most of her citizens are 
 poor, but enterprising, with an open chance before them 
 for distinction in vrhatever they may undertake. There 
 are no laws of entailment and primogeniture, to destroy 
 their ambition or crusli their efibrts. There is no heredi- 
 tary aristocracy, no qualities of blood, to encourage indo- 
 lence, or justify oppression. The road to distinction is 
 open to all, and every man is made self-dependent for his 
 
A NEW FRIEND. 47 
 
 success, and self-responsible for his failure. It is not strange, 
 if, under such a state of things, of comparatively recent 
 adoption, some should become superlatively selfish, and de- 
 vote all their energies to the mere acquisition of wealth or 
 personal fame ; while the next, or third, in succession, pam- 
 pered, perhaps, in idleness, with no ability to appreciate the 
 value of means bequeathed to him, should waste his sub- 
 stance in irrational and hurtful gratifications. But those 
 whose bodies have sweat to earn, and whose minds have 
 been studious to employ, will be most likely to receive with 
 thankfulness and occupy with discretion, the means and 
 opportunities which may fall to their lot, and in a way to 
 promote the objects of a true life, by laying up stores of 
 practical knowledge, which shall be to them and their friends 
 a source of rich enjoyment in after years. 
 
 After wandering through a few streets, we came to several 
 book stands, beside the paling of the court-house. While 
 consulting about some books and maps, a well-dressed gentle- 
 man stopped near us, of whom I inquired for an individual 
 to whom I had a letter. He at once replied, in a manner 
 that indicated more than ordinary interest in us, by saying 
 that he did not exactly know the residence inquired for, but 
 that, with our consent, he would take it upon him to find the 
 place for us. He said he perceived we were strangers, and 
 Americans ; and that he felt a high respect for our coun- 
 try, and gratitude for the noble exhibition of benevolence 
 on the part of its citizens, in sending such a bountiful sup- 
 ply of provisions to feed the starving thousands of his 
 wretched countrymen, during the terrible famine of winter 
 before last ; that he was anxious to make the acquaintance 
 of every American, and to do every thing in his power to 
 serve them. ; that he wanted to embrace every opportunity 
 to let them know the strength of Irish gratitude ; a.nd that 
 if he could be of any service to us by showing us about 
 the city, introducing us to public places, or in any other 
 
48 GRATITUDE FOR AMERICAN CHARITY. 
 
 way, we might command his time, for he should be most 
 happy to aid us in promoting the objects of our visit. 
 
 We were overwhelmed by the suddenness and extent of 
 this expression of friendship, and for a time did not know 
 how to regard it ; whether it was really in earnest ; whether 
 it was mere " blarney," — for we had heard that Blarney 
 castle was not far off — or whether he was not a genteel 
 blackleg, the like of some in our own country — mostly ot 
 foreign importation — who was making these advances to 
 secure our confidence and obtain an opportunity to rifle 
 our pockets. We could not do less than accept his prof- 
 fered service to show us to the place we were seeking; 
 and so, expressing our thankfulness for his attention, we 
 walked on in company. A few moments conversation suf- 
 ficed to disarm all our suspicions, and convince us of the 
 purity of his heart and the sincerity of his pretensions. He 
 related to us the circumstances of his visit to the Macedo- 
 nian, Commodore De Kay, sent out by our government 
 with the contributions of our citizens for the relief of the, 
 then, famishing poor of his country, himself being one of 
 the committee for the reception and distribution of this 
 generous, timely, and life-preserving bequest. The news 
 of the arrival of this vessel, with its freight of food, at once 
 attracted the destitute from a large portion of the surround- 
 ing country and, while detailing to us the circumstances at- 
 tending the dispensation of it to the perishing, his faltering 
 voice and moistened eyes, evinced how deep was his gra- 
 titude and how lively the recollection of the misery which 
 such timely relief served to mitigate and remove. Fathers 
 looked on their sons with contentment and hope, as they 
 planned the means for them to get to America, and mothers 
 clasped their little ones to their heaving bosoms with all 
 their remaining strength, and whispered to them lullabies 
 about the blessing and abundance of America, to which 
 they prayed they might, some time, go, with as much fer- 
 vor as they ever prayed for the bliss of heaven. 
 
UNEXPECTED ATTENTIONS. 49 
 
 Nothing so much relaxes the feelino; of selfishness, de- 
 stroys the pride of nationality and knits the cords of friend- 
 ship, as the recital of scenes which appeal to our common 
 humanity, which stir up the deeper and holier affections, 
 and quicken the course of generous feelings, too long con- 
 gested and sluggish in their motions. The thick shell is 
 broken ; the doors of the dark dungeon thrown wide open 
 and one breathes freer and feels happier. Every thing ap- 
 pears more serene and lovely. All creation is beautiful ! 
 Nothing seems hateful ; and every feeling of dislike, or 
 thought of evil, is banished. The attractive power of good- 
 ness predominates. Sympathies blend in perfect recipro- 
 city. All distinctions are lost. The soul feels something 
 of heaven in that hour, and aspires after the holy and the 
 infinite. It is qualified to receive and appropriate the 
 great truth that God is our Father and all mankind our 
 brethren. 
 
 Our new made friend was not content with having ful- 
 filled his promise, but he entertained my companions while 
 I did an errand of friendship between a brother in America 
 and his sister, now living in this city. He conducted us 
 through the Mardyke — a beautiful promenade, a mile in 
 length, raised several feet above the low, marshy meadows 
 and shaded with double rows of elms on each side — to the 
 hydraulic works, constructed something on the plan of 
 Fairmount, by which the water is forced from the river to a 
 reservoir on the side of the hill sufficient!}' elevated to sup- 
 ply all the lower parts of the city. From here we followed 
 our new friend to Sunday's well, celebrated in olden time for 
 its miraculous healing properties, and even now revered on 
 the same account, by some deluded votaries of the Romish 
 Church Continuing our course along the northern side of 
 the city, the jail and various public buildings were passed, 
 which brought us to the stone quays spanned by some fine 
 bridges. Here we were introduced to the captain of an 
 American ship, who, having discharged a freight of grain, 
 was busy in taking on board a return cargo of living Irish- 
 
 5 
 
50 A VVEARISUME WALK. 
 
 men. Indeed, humanity seems to be the principal surplus 
 commodity in port, and stowed away according to the 
 preparations being made, despite the stringency of our laws 
 regarding room, provisions, ventillation and cleanliness, will 
 doubtless, pay better than any other. 
 
 Our generous conductor, learning that our stay was to 
 be limited in Cork to a single day, was determined that we 
 should make the very best use of our time and legs, which 
 latter important adjuncts, having been so long used to the 
 inactivity of shipboard, threatened to rebel by refusing sup- 
 port to sustain our curiosity and aid the rapid and exten- 
 sive movements to which our guide was urging us. 
 But each was ashamed to be the first to complain of fatigue, 
 and so we kept moving as rapidly as we could, to avoid 
 all suspicion of any halting disposition. Now that the 
 pride and ambition of that day are passed, I am free to con- 
 fess that I did suffer beyond measure. It seemed to me, 
 several times, that I could not go a step further, but must 
 sit down where I was and own myself outrun. Then the 
 glances of my companions, as tired as myself, but anxious 
 to note the first sign of faltering, to divert attention from 
 their own weaknesses, would rouse up all my flagging ener- 
 gies, to make renewed efforts. And thus we kept on till 
 two o'clock, when our kind-hearted friend bethought him- 
 self that we might be tired, and proposed to take us to his 
 house, not far off, and give us a " lunch." He insisted upon 
 it and we assented. 
 
 He conducted us along the left shore of the river below 
 the city, to a row of new and pleasantly situated houses, 
 built on the side of the hill with prettily ornamented 
 yards in front. The road was close upon the bank 
 of the river which *s here walled up in the manner 
 of a pier. Behind, the steeply ascending gi'ound is beauti- 
 fully ornamented with shade trees, hedges, gardens and pri- 
 vate residences. Before, the navigable part of the river 
 runs close to the shore, beyond which is an extensive 
 flat which is bare at low tides. On the opposite side the 
 
A LUNCH. 51 
 
 country swel/s off in agreeably ascending undulations, 
 which are studded with elegant mansions and fine planta- 
 tions. Far down the frith appears the castle of " Carragh 
 Duyv/' (Black Rock,) and the haven of ihe famed and 
 beautiful Cove. On the right is spread out the whole city, 
 with its shipping, bridges, and principal buildings in sight. 
 
 I am particular in this description to show that Irishmen 
 are not devoid of taste, nor the means of gratifying it, but 
 that so far as they have the means, the arts of civilization 
 are employed for the promotion of solid comfort and the 
 higher sources of rational happiness. 
 
 We were introduced into a dwelling every way comfort- 
 able and moderately elegant, and received a very cordial 
 welcome from Mrs. H — , when her husband informed her 
 that we were Americans. She soon ordered the table to 
 be spread, and a lunch placed upon it. A large cubic loaf 
 of white bread — say ten inches square ; the quarter of an 
 American cheese — esteemed here a great luxury ; some 
 butter ; a common glass bottle of whiskey, with water, su- 
 gar, tumblers, and knives, were all duly arranged. No 
 chairs were placed about the table. We were asked to 
 " sit up and help ourselves." Our host unstoppled the bottle, 
 and reached it over towards our tumblers. Two of us re- 
 fused, as contrary to our Temperance principles. This led 
 to a general conversation upon the subject of temperance, 
 during which the manner, benefits, and over-estimate of Fa- 
 ther Mathew's labors were commented upon, and the great 
 good that had resulted to Ireland, and America, and other 
 nations. We soon found that our friend, though generally 
 liberal in his views, was ardent in his opposition to Catholi- 
 cism, attributing a large share of his country's misery and 
 degradation to the bad, but all-controling influence of the 
 Romish priests, w^ho, he said, "instead of striving to en- 
 lighten their minds and improve their condition, are doing 
 all they can to keep them in ignorance, and prejudice them 
 against the English government, and Protestantism, and the 
 English generally." 
 
52 A CONVERSATION. 
 
 It required very little attention to see that a strong feel- 
 ing of prejudice existed in his mind on these subjects, and 
 so we passed away from them as soon and as adroitly as 
 we could, but not without remarking that in many things 
 we thought the government oppressive, especially in the 
 matter of tithes, by compelling the people to help support 
 doctrines they do not believe, and their own beside. Yet 
 we confessed our inability to pass judgment on these sub- 
 jects till better informed. 
 
 The condition and prospects of this country, the designs 
 of the " Repealers," and the probable result of the growing 
 excitement upon that subject, the expected interference of 
 France and America, were all considered during the time 
 we remained with him. On all those topics connected with 
 his country, our friend exhibited a feeling of gloom and ap- 
 prehension ; but when our own country, its history, condi- 
 tion and prospects, were touched upon, his manner under- 
 went a complete metamorphosis ; his countenance bright- 
 ened, his words were quicker and freer, and he was mani- 
 festly relieved from troublesome anxieties. He many 
 times spoke of his desires and plans to emigrate to our 
 country, with many parts of which he had become familiar, 
 by reading, and of all of which he spoke in the most en- 
 thusiastic terms. In many things, his imagination far out- 
 reached the reality, and we told him so. This pleased his 
 wife, and we soon learned the cause why his plans were not 
 put in execution. His wife was an English woman, by 
 whom he had received some property, and as is the case 
 with some of her nation, she wears, in technical parlance, a 
 certain kind of garment, which is emblematic of authority, 
 usurped or rightful, I shall not here decide. There seems 
 to be nothing unnatural or inappropriate in such exercise 
 of power, seeing her Royal Majesty rules his Royal High- 
 ness, it is said, with a rod of iron, and plays the Queen over 
 the greatest men of the " greatest nation on earth ; on 
 whose dominion the sun never sets." 
 
 Having restea and refreshed ourselves, we begged to be 
 
A CAR RIDE. 53 
 
 excused. Our friend at once assented, but not without vol- 
 unteering his services, much to the discomfort of our neth- 
 er limbs, to conduct us up the hill, back of his residence, by 
 which we gained an extensive and beautiful view of all the 
 city and country, in every direction, from the Cove to the 
 mountains far inland, and to the vast tunnel which is in pro- 
 cess of excavation for the South Western Railroad. Here 
 he left us, promising to call for us as soon as we should re- 
 turn from Blarney castle, which two of us had resolved to 
 visit ; the other prefering repose to more sight- seeing, just 
 at that time. 
 
 We bargained for an " outside car," of one of the many 
 drivers standing in the street, who, like the cab-men about 
 steamboat landings, are exceedingly kind to offer and insist 
 upon the acceptance of their services ; promising to do, in 
 the best manner and at the cheapest rate, all that is asked 
 of them in any length of time one chooses to mention. 
 In this instance, the distance w^as six or seven miles : the 
 time to be one hour out, one there, and one back : the 
 price, a crow^n. All this seemed probable enough ; but the 
 result disappointed us in every particular. The miles were 
 in Irish measure, being to ours as eleven to fourteen. The 
 road, though excellent, is very hilly ; so, instead of three 
 we were nearly five hours, and instead of a crown, a "shil- 
 lun " was demanded of each in addition for driver's fee. For 
 all this we were abundantly repaid, by the novelty of our ve- 
 hicle, the beauty and variety of the scenery, and the altogether 
 new impressions we gained from this, our first visit to an 
 old feudal castle. And we were, withal, fortunate in our 
 choice; not so much on account of the peculiar virtues 
 said to be imparted to those who visit this castle and kiss 
 the famed " Blarney stone," as from the fact that it is ro- 
 mantically situated, and in an excellent state of preserva- 
 tion, for one so long forsaken. 
 
 The carriage we had taken was constructed on a plan 
 unlike any thing used in our country, though common here. 
 The " inside car " is somewhat like a single cab in our cities, 
 
 5* 
 
54 DESCRIPTION OF A CAR. 
 
 though differing in several respects. The "outside car'' 
 is less aristocratic, but, in good weather, pleasanter, and 
 hired at a cheaper rate. It consists of a body placed upon 
 two wheels, with two seats, back to back, running " fore 
 and aft." Between the two seats is what is called the 
 " well," formed of a box eighteen inches or two feet wide, 
 and, perhaps, two and a half high, extending the length of 
 the carriage. Into this, baggage is packed when necessary. 
 The top and sides (of the better class) are covered with 
 cloth and stuffed, forming the back of the seats. On the 
 fore end of the well is the seat for the driver. Below the 
 seats, and extending outside the wheels, is a sort of foot- 
 board, which folds up into the seat, when there are no 
 riders. The seats are large enough for two, and, some- 
 times, for three or four persons on a side, and not unfre- 
 quently, in case of mail cars, two or three are mounted on 
 the well. On roads of limited travel, these cars are used 
 in place of coaches for the accommodation of passengers. 
 The carriage is placed upon elliptical springs, and, on the 
 excellent macadamised roads every where to be found, runs 
 exceedingly easy. We met and passed several of them on 
 our way to and from. Blarney castle, and were once or 
 twice hailed to take on other passengers. 
 
 The road wound out of the city, through a narrow vale 
 filled with wretched houses, apparently crowded by a most 
 miserable set of inhabitants, many of whom ran out to beg 
 of us as we passed. There are several small factories along 
 the stream over which we passed. The spacious work-house 
 stands in a commanding position on the opposite ridge, beyond 
 which are the extensive barracks. We soon commenced the 
 ascent and descent of several precipitous hills, passing many 
 stone and mud cabins, with thatched roofs, with here and 
 there a tolerably pleasant looking residence. 
 
 At the end of an hour we found ourselves in a beautiful 
 and well cultivated valley, adorned with pleasant houses 
 and farms, on the rising ground on the right, and the gray 
 walls of the castle, towering high above the surrounding 
 
A VILLAGE. 55 
 
 trees, at some distance on the left. After passing a small 
 village, containing an old church — romantically situated in a 
 grove of trees, like some we have seen in New^ England — a 
 hotel, stores, factories, mills, a few decent dwellings and 
 many poor ones, we turned off the main road and came to 
 the gate leading to the castle grounds. Before our object 
 was made known, a little girl started off upon the run, for 
 what we did not know. We followed after, crossed the 
 meadow, and ascended by what was once a splendid 
 garden, ornamented with shade trees, flowers, shrubs, 
 hedges, graveled walks, bordered with box, and containing 
 some well-worn images — now only used for the commonest 
 kind of a kitchen garden. On the other side of the road 
 is a dilapidated cottage, with an array of old barns, stables, 
 and sheds, enclosed in a high, ivy-clad wall, now used for 
 the storing of grain and fodder for the cows and sheep 
 herded about them in winter. From the wall an extensive 
 lawn spreads out, descending gradually to the south, shaded 
 with innumerable large and handsome trees, and termina- 
 ted by a little kke, beyond which ascend richly cultivated 
 fields, in which a great number of men, women, and teams 
 were at work. The whole scene wears an air of freshness 
 and rural beauty much resembling the finer landscapes 
 which border our western prairies. 
 
 Turning to the right, and passing the high garden wall, 
 we came directly before the castle, which now stands up in 
 its lonely greatness, frowning sullenly upon the little visitors 
 whose curiosity brings them so far and so late to wonder at 
 the relics of departed majesty. It is a mighty pile, the 
 monument of other and different days, but still grand in 
 its desolation, and significant as the tombstone of those 
 who reared it. The main shaft, forming the tower, is 
 square, and rises without a projecting base, directly from 
 the green lawn, rearing its gray walls, smooth and naked, 
 on the south and west, to the height of a hundred feet 
 and are surrounded by a projecting battlement with small 
 turrets crowning each of the four corners. There are no 
 
56 A LOaUACIOUS g^uide. 
 
 doors or windows on these sides. The north base rests 
 upon the brink of a limestone ledge, which overhangs the 
 vale and stream, some fifty feet below. On this side, there 
 are several windows affording light and prospect to suites 
 of small rooms in the second and third stories. The east 
 side of it is faced by an outer wall, which enclosed the main 
 dweUing of the castle. The inner wall, bounding the little 
 court next to the massive tower, is all fallen, so that one 
 sees only the outer enclosure with its numerous windows, 
 some of them of monstrous proportions. A small round tow- 
 er projecting from I he north-east corner up which wound the 
 cylindrical stairs to the various apartments in the diiferent 
 stories of the keep. This, like the main tower, and another 
 small one standing at the distance of a dozen rods to the east, 
 is in a good state of preservation. 
 
 In a short time, the little girl returned, accompanied by 
 an old woman, who addressed us in broad Irish, and bade 
 us welcome to Blarney castle. On hearing that we 
 were Americans she became exceedingly loquacious and 
 attentive, expressing ten thousand thanks and calling 
 on God, the Virgin and all the saints to bless us and our 
 " distant coounthry," for preserving her poor countrymen 
 from the horrible death of famine. She mixed up with 
 her expressions of gratitude descriptions of the buildings 
 about us. " Sure, an' this hoouse right where ye stand was 
 the coort, and where ye sees that great winder right afore 
 ye in the second stoory was the Earl's banqueting hall ; 
 where that winder bees by the little tower was his library, 
 along this side coming oop to the tooer, was the two parlors; 
 aboove all these was the slaping rooms, going clare round 
 to that side there, oover the gate, and oop to that corner of 
 the tooer, Och, we should huv starved, hadn't yer kind 
 coonthr^^min been soo good to us, soo mindful of our miseries. 
 God be praised, ye did us much good ; an' sure no Irishman 
 can nivir be afther foorgitting it. Och, yes, that was the 
 wine cellar, oond that was the kitchen, where ye sees that 
 great fire-place. Boot I'll shu ye kind gintilmin these 
 
BLARNEY CASTLE. 57 
 
 when we've coome doown, for ye will want to goo to the 
 "Blaarney stoone." The old lady talked so fast we could 
 not utter a word of inquiry or thankfulness. 
 
 She now turned and unlocked a shabby wooden door, 
 cut and hacked with letters and names, through which we 
 entered the main castle, or tower. The wal's, at ihe base^ 
 are seventeen feet thick, receding as they rise in each story. 
 The room we entered was nearly square, perhaps forty by 
 fifty feet. There were no windows on either side. The light 
 shone in through the door, and dimly from an opening 
 through the partition on the north side which divided it from 
 some rooms in that quarter. The ground was covered with 
 various kinds of lumber, ploughs, harrows, ladders, doors, 
 boards and timber stored here, in a most unseemly manner. 
 At the height of fifteen or twenty feet, there was, formerly, 
 a floor, now fallen, and on the east, or side next the court, 
 was an elegant fire-place, the marble jambs and ornaments 
 of which are still standing. On the south side are arched 
 recesses. The arch over it still remains at a height of per- 
 haps fifty feet. The whole was finished in a very plain but 
 substantial manner. The room above, with the elegant 
 fire-place, is called the Earl's room ; it has no windows and 
 but two doors, one opening from the stairway, in the north- 
 east angle, and the other into his private apartments in the 
 north-west. It must have been a dark hole to borough in 
 without lamps. The small door by which we entered, is 
 the only aperture on the east front, and the only place of in- 
 gress or egress, except by a narrow winding flight of steps, 
 which descend to the well, situated in the north east corner 
 of the outer buildings, under the library room, and near the 
 dungeon, with the passage to which a secret door connected, 
 which led by the kennel for the bloodhounds, to the valley on 
 the north side. Close by this door of entrance, on the right, 
 commences a flight of winding stone stairs, which lead to 
 the different stories, from which doors open into the several 
 rooms along the north side, and into the Earl's room, and 
 nto the chapel immediately over it. In the north-west 
 
58 THE TOWN. 
 
 corner, immediately off from the main room, and in the se- 
 curest part of the tower was the Earl's sleeping and 
 dressing rooms, which show some little signs of taste and 
 comfort, as well as safety. The roof of the chapel is fallen 
 in, and the floor is covered with a mass of rubbish, among 
 which various shrubs, and vines, and grass are growing, and 
 one or two trees more than ten feet high. The walls of the 
 chapel, which form the summit of the tower, are ascended 
 by narrow stairs in the north-east and north-west corners. 
 The latter passes from a small room with a large fire-place 
 where our garrulous conductress said they cooked in time 
 of a siege, and prepared melted lead, scalding water and 
 red hot stones to cast down from the battlements upon the 
 assailing foe. The old lady tugged up to the very top, puff- 
 ing like a Mississippi steamboat — a thing she had not " doon 
 in a twelvemoonth, an' sure one she would not now be af- 
 ther doing, boot for the rispict she felt in her shoul foor 
 these blissid gintilmin from Ameriky." 
 
 Around the top of the tower is a projecting battlement, 
 resting upon large stones, which project from the corners 
 of the main wall, three or four feet below the summit, and 
 at distances of six or eight feet from each other. This 
 outer parapet rises higher than the main wall, and at a dis- 
 tance of two feet or more, leaving apertures down which 
 darts, javelins, melted lead, red hot stones, boiling water, 
 and other missiles of destruction could be hurled upon an 
 enemy who should venture to assail and attempt to batter 
 down the walls. 
 
 This mode of defence was of little service after the in- 
 vention of gunpowder, as the broken stone upon the south 
 battlement shows ; for when Oliver Cromwell came this 
 way with the army of the Commonwealth, and planted his 
 cannon upon the rising ground which commands the castle, 
 and fired a fV'W thirty-two pounders, which fractured the 
 stone now sustained by a band of iron, the great McCarthy 
 was compelled to hold out the white flag and surrender at 
 discretion. This was the winding up of feudalism in these 
 
THE FOUNDATIONS OF WEALTH. 59 
 
 parts, and there has since been no real use for these cas- 
 tles ; though this, and some others which were not much 
 injured, continued to be inhabited for many years. A few 
 are so still, but none of them possess the aristocratic pride 
 and power once enjoyed. There is no more use for them. 
 The masses have searched for and found the sources of 
 power, and a feudal lord can no longer hold his vassals in a 
 state of complete surveillance, or lead them to war against 
 other clans at will. Civil law, extended over the nation, 
 investing the general government with executive authority, 
 forbids the exercise of feudal power by lords and barons, so 
 that these shelters are no longer needed to protect the heads 
 of clans in times of petty wars. 
 
 At present, this castle is the property of a Mr. Jeffreys, 
 who takes little pains to preserve it from decay, or keep it 
 in a comfortable condition for visitors. The " god of war " 
 has been exchanged for the " golden calf," which receives a 
 devouter homage and a costlier sacrifice than the former 
 ever did. The sacrifices are not the fresh blood freely 
 spilled in valorous deeds of chivalry, nor the hideous tor- 
 tures of savage barbarity, which have marked the ages that 
 are past. They are the wearing, tearing, carking cares of 
 money-getting, which eat into men's souls, and, like a stimu- 
 lating drink, urge forward in courses of extravagance at 
 first never contemplated. The vassals are no longer led to 
 battle, weaponed and fed, at the lord's expense. They are 
 sent into the field to work and starve. The will is con- 
 quered, and a tame submission to oppression long enforced, 
 has destroyed all consciousness of self-dignity and hope of 
 social redemption, so that the peasantry, or vassals, now 
 live in a condition of constant dependence and patronage 
 more servile and humiliating than existed in the sunniest 
 days of feudalism. The lords have become more selfish, 
 aristocratic, more ease-loving, and, in consequence, less 
 mindful of the wants, comfort, and honor of their depend- 
 ents. Before, they loved their subjects as a groom does 
 his horse, for show or speed, and so kept them fat and sleek* 
 
60 CONVERSATION WITH ENGLISHMEN. 
 
 Now they love them for the work they do, the rents and 
 profits which they pay, and are more careless of them than 
 a merchant is of a hired cartman's mule. Of com'se, ex- 
 ceptions are to be made in favor of those w^ho have hearts 
 of humanity, influenced by that love so forcibly inculcated 
 in the Christian religion, which moves some of them to act 
 honorably and humanely. The owner of this property, the 
 old lady tells us, is one of this kind ; and the general ap- 
 pearance of the lands and people induce me to believe 
 there is some truth in her testimony. 
 
 On reaching the top of the tower, we found three Eng- 
 lishmen, who had ascended some time before us. They 
 were regaling themselves with anecdotes, cigars, and the 
 beautiful scenery. When told we were from America, 
 they inquired about the appearance of our country, its cu- 
 riosities and antiquities, seeming to pride themselves that 
 we had no ancient ruins to compare with theirs. We were 
 compelled to own we had no such proofs of former folly 
 and wrong ; that all that is great with us is modern and 
 republican, being owned and shared by all. But, feeling 
 our pride chafed a little by the manner in which they spoke 
 to us, we remarked that America could boast antiquities 
 more ancient than the pen of history, traditionary ballads, 
 or fable had penetrated ; the skeletons of animals more stu- 
 pendous than could any where else be found, indicating 
 that our country had been the home of giant races, of 
 which the world was no more worthy, and of which the 
 pigmies of the present day can form but indistinct ideas. 
 They were silenced by our recital, when we referred to 
 our rivers, lakes, cataracts, mounds, and other relics, and 
 seemed to regard us as more worthy of their acquaint- 
 ance, at least. They soon turned the conversation upon 
 the mutual interests and dependencies of the two countries. 
 
 Among the many delightful views afforded by our ele- 
 vated position, was a Hydropathic establishment, situated 
 on a beautiful slope, a mile or so distant, in a north-westerly 
 direction. It is embowered in charming shade trees^ 
 
THE BLARNEY STONE. 61 
 
 among which the inmates could be seen, by the help of a 
 glass, exercising in playful gayety. This object led to a 
 description of the dangerous practices pursued there, pend- 
 ing the discussion of which we signified our intention to 
 descend. 
 
 *' Ah, boot an' sure yer riverince will not be afther laving 
 afoore he's kessed the Blaarney stone. Noo boody laves 
 without it," said the loquacious old dame, who was so well 
 rested that she could talk as garrulously as ever. 
 
 " Where is the famed Blarney stone ? I would like to see 
 it." 
 
 " An' kiss it, oov coorse, or it will be of no good to ye at 
 all, at all. All gintilmin does so, foor why else should they 
 be afther cooming beer so fur. I will shoo ye, though it 
 bes a long time sence I climbed oop to it; but as ye bes 
 coome so fur froom Ameriky, that blissed coountry, I will 
 be afther doing it for ye. Here, this way." 
 
 She led us up a narrow flight of winding stairs, which 
 conducted to the top of the wall, from which a few steps 
 ascended, on the outside, to the top of the small turret rising 
 from the battlement, and main wall, on the north-east corner 
 of the tower to the height of eight or ten feet. In the cen- 
 ter of the top of this turret, is a small blue-stone boulder, it 
 may be a foot or more in diameter, imbedded in the mason- 
 ry, and elevated a Httle above the surface, with some un- 
 readable characters roughly cut upon it, but nearly oblite- 
 rated. 
 
 " There, that bes it, an' ye moost kess it thra times." 
 
 " Why, what good will it do to kiss it three times ? Is 
 not once sufficient ?" 
 
 " Oh, noo, niver a bit ; foor all that coome here kess it 
 thra times ; surely they do. They niver goo away withoot 
 it. 
 
 " Pray tell me, good woman, what the use is in kissmg it 
 at all. Will it make me rich, or wise, or good, or happy? 
 What will it do for me ?" 
 
 " An that I can noo be afther telling ye, any boo. But 
 
 6 
 
62 ITS PECULIAR VIRTUES. 
 
 I noo every boody kesses it, they do ; and the great Saint 
 Patrick, when the castle was doone, put his hand on it, an 
 blessed it, and soome say he laid it there. But I don't noo 
 
 about it." 
 
 I tried every way to find out if she understood any thing 
 of the virtues attributed to this famed stone in the legends 
 which are told of it. She seemed to be entirely ignorant 
 of its qualities, and forgot that this castle was built centu- 
 ries after Saint Patrick died ; but her peculiar loquacity in- 
 dicated that she was not altogether a stranger to its pecu- 
 liar virtues ; for her flattery of us and our country bordered 
 closely upon " blarney," or had an inkling to the liberal pay 
 she expected of us. Waiving all scruples, for her sake, see- 
 ing she had shown us such particular attention, I stooped 
 and kissed the " Blarney stone." Whether it was a sudden 
 effusion of the hidden virtues of the stone, or the effect of 
 looking from a height so giddy and fearful, I cannot say ; 
 but I own I felt a strange and wild sensation about my head 
 and heart, and so hurried to get down as soon as possible. 
 
 Of the building and history of Blarney castle I need not 
 write. Those curious to know more about it, must exam- 
 ine the legends and history of the south of Ireland. But 
 one thing some may be pleased to learn : that, from time 
 immemorial, the "Blarney stone" has possesed the astonish- 
 ing power of imparting a wonderful charm to the manners 
 and conversational abilities of all who kiss it, which ren- 
 ders them peculiarly persuasive and pleasing to most peo- 
 ple — a manner amounting not quite to flattery, neither stick- 
 ing exactly to the rougher qualities of truth ; but, in a quiet, 
 easy, soothing way, so insinuating good opinions of one's self, 
 by gentle, unpretending praises, and sweet, unsuspicious 
 words, that the listener is won to yield a willing and happy 
 assent, without much perplexity of judgment or injury to pride. 
 And this virtue is diffusive, being possessed by thousands 
 who never saw or heard of castle Blarney at all, but who, 
 either by intuition or discursively, have attained a singular 
 faculty of using " blarney " with as much force and free- 
 
ITS PECULIAR VIRTUES. G3 
 
 dom as if they had actually been here. And what is wor- 
 thy of note, also, is, that few object to its use. Most consider 
 it a praiseworthy accomplishment in themselves and oth- 
 ers, and assent to its use with a becoming degree of self- 
 complacency. Like the " braktan " set in the wall of the 
 Kaaba at Mecca, which is kissed seven times by every Ma- 
 hometan hadji, and forms the Kebla towards which he turns 
 his face in prayer, the " Blarney stone " has long been an 
 object of almost religious veneration by every wooing lover 
 who wished to win his way to the heart of his lady-love ; 
 and to every aspirant for social renown, in the lighter walks 
 of colloquial intercourse. " Blarney " is a much more 
 classic term in its sound and meaninor than the vulgar words 
 "soft-soap,'' so common in our country, though in mean- 
 ing, there is, perhaps, little difference. But enough of this. 
 
 On descending, we passed down from the court, through 
 the ruins of the keep, and so round to the north side, where 
 we entered a passage which led to the dungeon, a dark hole 
 in the shape of a baker's oven, a dozen feet in diameter, 
 and scarce hi2;h enou2;h for a short man to stand erect in 
 the center A small, round aperture, two or three inches 
 across, perforated the roof and admitted the only light, and 
 this came in on angular direction through the side wall. 
 A small door, like an oven's mouth, being barely large 
 enough to tluust a man through, head foremost, opened, 
 breast high, from the passage. Near the passage to thii:; 
 dungeon, and connecting with it, are the steps coming down 
 from the main tower, under the foundations of the outer 
 buildings of the castles, and leading to the v/ell, stili deeper, 
 on the right. By this long flight a private communication 
 was had betv/een the tower, the well, the dungeon, and the 
 vard bordering the north side of the castle, the walls around 
 which are now in ruins. Close by this door is a large dog- 
 kennel, where the blood hounds were kept to guard the pas- 
 sage to the dungeon. The yard itself was said to be for 
 the hunting hounds. 
 
 A little to the west of the castle commences a natu'-al 
 
64 RCTURN TO THE CITY. 
 
 cave, which passes through the limestone cliff, a distance, 
 it is said, of half a mile, to the small lake before mentioned. 
 We entered several rods, and broke off some coarse stalac- 
 tites, formed by the water which percolates through the ground 
 and drops constantly from the roof But our curiosity was 
 not sufficient to induce us to venture, without a light, over 
 the rough, wet stones, to any great distance. The notion is 
 that this cave was used to convey water from the pond, and 
 as an avenue of escape, in case of emergency. 
 
 Having surveyed all parts of the castle, the first thing'of 
 the kind we ever saw, we paid our conductress her " shillun" 
 and the little girl who went for her, a sixpence, and received 
 thanks, and prayers for vast and innumerable blessings relating 
 to both this world and the next. We hastened back to the 
 gate and found the keeper in waiting to open and receive his 
 pay. Leeches are thick about these castles. We mounted 
 our car and returned by another and more hilly and roman- 
 tic road, which leads by the splendid demesnes of several 
 wealthy gentlemen to the city, where we arrived before sunset. 
 
 Our friend had been in waiting for us some time, to 
 show us about the city and introduce us to Father Mathew, 
 the celebrated advocate of temperance, in whom much in- 
 terest has been felt in this country and ours. I was sorry 
 to learn, as I did, from numerous sources, that his popular- 
 ity is not so great at home, as it was formerly, and that 
 many good friends of temperance suspect him of interested 
 and ambitious motives in his labors. When did ever a man 
 do good without awakening envy and creating suspicion ? 
 Theobold Mathew is a Catholic priest, educated for his 
 church and undoubtedly prejudiced, and it may be bigoted, 
 in its favor. He is, doubtless, like other men, made up of 
 earthly materials, which may, perchance, influence him, 
 somewhat as other men are influenced. Few persons are 
 indifferent to honest praise ; not many to flattery. The con- 
 sciousness of having done a great and good work, for which 
 multitudes bless him and many curse — a double reward !-- 
 may induce a manner of conduct not rightly appreciated 
 
FATHER xMATllEW. 65 
 
 by all the world. His friends, generally, are among the 
 humbler portions of the commmiity ; for there, as here, and 
 now as of old, " not many mighty, not many noble," have 
 been called to enter the ranks of temperance. And his 
 opposers are in his own church, and among his brother 
 priests, as well as among those in other churches and in the 
 higher and gayer w^alks of wealth and nobility. But de- 
 spite all these influences he is doing a good work in his 
 way. Out of the multitudes who sign his pledge, some will 
 keep it and be restored to usefulness, happiness, and honor. 
 He deserves much praise. 
 
 As we approached his dwelling, we observed the knocker 
 of the door had been wrenched off" by violence. We sup- 
 posed some foe of temperance had done it in spite. Our 
 friend assured us that such was not the fact ; that the poverty 
 and misery which prevailed so fearfully had driven many to 
 commit such theft to prevent starvation. He pointed out doors 
 robbed of knockers, iron railings of brass balls, churches of 
 ornaments. The most daring robberies are committed in a 
 small way by the multitudes who can find no other means 
 to keep soul and body united. All over the city are seen 
 proofs of destitution and wretchedness, such as I never con- 
 templated before. What crimes have not ignorance and priests 
 led people to commit ? How fearfully responsible are the 
 rich and proud oppressors of their fellow-men for the very 
 crimes they so loudly condemn ! And society and government 
 are not without fault in the incidental production of those 
 crimes they so severely punish. The reward to both are 
 troubles and anxieties felt for the insecurity of life and pro- 
 perty, and the misery and disgrace amidst which they are 
 compelled to move. The man who gives intoxicating 
 drinks to a company, which becomes mad and boisterous, 
 destroys his property and maims his body, can not easily 
 exonerate himself from all blame in the matter; nei- 
 ther can the community or government which keeps a por- 
 tion of people in ignorance and poverty, by insufferable and 
 
66 THE TEMPERANCE PLEDGE. 
 
 degrading exactions, be held in complete exemption from all 
 accountability. And they are not free from the curse and 
 ignominy which inevitably attend such a state of things. 
 God deals with communities and nations, as with individuals. 
 None can escape his judgments. 
 
 On entering, we were conducted into a very plain and 
 coarsely furnished room, used as a sort of office for the 
 reception of the innumerable visitors of the worthy 
 priest. 
 
 We were asked to be seated on some unpainted wooden 
 benches. The clerk for Father Mathew, who attends to tem- 
 perance and his friends in a business way, was engaged 
 with a party which had preceded us. As soon as they left, 
 we inquired for the Apostle of temperance, and were in- 
 formed that he was out of the city, tarrying with his bro- 
 ther on account of ill-health, as he desired to be relieved 
 from the cares to which he was subjected when at home. We 
 were shown his pledge and long ledger of 5,710,700 names 
 which have been affixed to it, the number, age and resi- 
 dence of each signer being placed on the margin, and the 
 date at the liead of the page, after the manner of a register 
 at the hotels. The number increases at the rate of twenty 
 or thirty daily. 
 
 But many sign it, we were told, who do not consider 
 themselves bound to keep it, but merely as a compliment to 
 the Reformer, a remembrance of their visit to him, the same 
 as they write their names in albums kept at places of fash- 
 hionable resort. Still it is presumed that a large portion do 
 it from principle, with a view to correct their habits, and 
 encourage a good cause, of whose mission Ireland has 
 much need, and that the most favorable results will be 
 experienced. Indeed, the good fruits of this reform are ex- 
 tensively seen in the improved condition of the people and 
 the better order which prevails in all parts of the kingdom. 
 Nobody denies this, but all rejoice at it. Yet, as in our coun- 
 try, there are thousands and tens of thousands, who think 
 well, and speak well of this great and glorious moral and 
 
A Wl. UK OF MERIT. 67 
 
 social enterprise, who do nothing to advance it, and who will 
 not partake of its benefits directly, but keep aloof from all 
 connexion with it, and even lend their influence and exam- 
 ple against the labor of its friends and advocates, prefer- 
 ing to gratify. a bad habit, and sustain a dangerous practice, 
 by indulging in a whiskey punch or asocial glass, whenever 
 and wherever they please. But it has always been thus, 
 since the world began to jog forward. Many great works 
 like the tallest pines or mightiest oaks, are of humble origin, 
 and doomed, like them, to endure the buffetings of many a 
 howling storm ; yet though a good cause be thus rudely as- 
 sailed, or obliged to contend against " spiritual wickedness 
 in high places," its followers need not despond, for so 
 surely as light dispels darkness, so certain is it that a good 
 work, though commenced in tribulation, shall be consum- 
 mated in joy. The word of God is against all evil, and his 
 promise of the triumph of right will not fail to cheer the 
 hearts of those who sincerely labor for the elevation and 
 happiness of the race of man. 
 
 Imprudence and rashness are always dangerous. " He 
 that believeth must not make haste," but be careful to note 
 God's time in the circumstances wherein he is placed. He 
 may cease from doing, for a time, and flee into the wilder- 
 ness for security, as the Prophet did, but he can never be 
 indifferent, nor lend his influence against what is right — 
 what ought to be — what he desires may be. He would be 
 guilty if he did, and neither God nor his own conscience 
 would hold him blameless for such cowardice or treachery. 
 The reward is for the faithful. 
 
 Ireland and the world have need of many such men as 
 Father Mathew, to prepare human hearts to receive the 
 truth ; or, rather, to clear away the deceptions of sin and 
 error, the force of bad habits, that the truth may have a 
 chance to reach men's hearts and do good execution there. 
 Intemperance is among the most common and ruinous 
 vices. Its consequences are direct, inevitable, and diffu- 
 sive ; and hence the enormities of this sin, and all the 
 
68 AN IMPORTANT DISTINCTION. 
 
 flowery avenues which lead to it, can be more easily 
 pointed out and more readily shunned. And when once 
 the mind is disenthralled from a single vice, there is reason 
 to hope it will feel a truer freedom to pursue what is right ; 
 what is best ; what duty demands ; what our good, our 
 peace, our honor require, and God approves. 
 
 Such were some of the reflections which passed through 
 my mind, as I left the humble abode of this new light in 
 the Catholic priesthood, and hstened to the difl^erent and 
 contradictory accounts and arguments of interested parti- 
 zans in this great movement. I can not refuse to utter my 
 feeble voice to help swell the praises of this man. He is 
 great because he has done much good. But he is not a 
 god, to be worshipped or obeyed ; and so 1 pity the blind- 
 ness and credulity of many of his followers and admirers. 
 He is simply a Catholic priest — for that I neither honor nor 
 despise him. He is a philanthropist, a lover of temperance, 
 order, and human happiness. He is a friend to his poor, 
 oppressed countrymen, laboring faithfully as he can, to de- 
 liver them from their worst enemy, the greatest tyrant, the 
 curse of their prosperity, the ruin of their peace, and 
 to set them in the way of redemption, by guiding them to 
 sobriety, virtue, honesty, industry, happiness, and honor. 
 In this enterprize he has burst out of the shell of his order, 
 transcended the authority of his superiors, and, in God's 
 name, gone to work a work in behalf of his wretched 
 country and the world. The man, the Christian, has risen 
 above the level of the priest, and he breathes the purer at- 
 mosphere of freedom ; a clearer sky is over him, and fairer 
 objects about him. I speak of him as a Temperance man. 
 As such, I love, and honor, and praise him. As a priest he 
 may be tame, yielding, or sycophantic, bowing and cringing 
 before his bishops, to whom he sacrifices his manhood to 
 retain his place. He may sustain the errors of his church, 
 and seek its ascendency by unholy means. For that — if 
 so — my Protestantism does not respect him. But I can not 
 'oin the cry as;ainst his whole character on that account. 
 
DESCRIPTION OF CORK. 69 
 
 We must learn to separate between the wheat and the 
 chaff — to discern practical goodness from theoretical pro- 
 fession, sober reality from idle form, active benevolence 
 from spiritual quietism. We shall then have more reason to 
 love and respect, and less to hate and condemn our fellow- 
 men. The good we should approve, and cast the bad 
 away. 
 
 CITY OF CORK. 
 
 Cork is the second city in Ireland in respect to popula- 
 tion and commercial importance. It contains over one 
 hundred thousand inhabitants, and is the centre of an ex- 
 tensive trade. Immense quantities of butter are exported 
 to England, more than from any other city, and a conside- 
 rable amount of provisions, live stock, and agricultural 
 produce. And the large tract of country which finds a 
 market here is supplied with the various articles imported 
 from England and other countries. It is situated mostly in 
 the low bottom land, and separated by the river Lee into 
 several islands, but extends up the hills on either side. 
 Several fine bridges are thrown over the two principal 
 branches of the river which make the central part of it an 
 island, connecting it with the mainland A small stream 
 comes down from the north-west, through a narrow valley, 
 up which a branch of the city extends. 
 
 The city contains several good and substantial public 
 buildings, some of which present a fair show of elegance. 
 The county and city court-houses and jails ; the custom 
 house and several banking houses ; the chamber of com- 
 merce and Mansion House appear well, as do some of the 
 hotels. There are also some large and handsome churches 
 scattered about the city. St. Finbar's cathedral, so called 
 in honor of the saint who founded the city in the seventh 
 century, is a large and handsome building, partly ancient, 
 partly modern. It has a lofty octangular spire of hewn 
 stone, out of which, it is said, Cromwell took the bells and 
 
70 PUBLIC BUILDINGS. 
 
 converted them into cannon. Near the cathedral, which 
 belongs to the Episcopalians, is the Bishop's palace and 
 Dean's court, elegant buildings — religion here bears the 
 marks of royal favor. We could not understand what was 
 meant by a " Bishop's palace and Dean's court," till our 
 friend had enlightened us upon the subject of church dig- 
 nity and authority. Around the Cathedral there is also an 
 ancient burial ground, containing the remains of an innu- 
 merable company of men, not all unknown to fame in 
 church or state. 
 
 There are also several Catholic churches, two or three 
 Methodist, a Presbyterian, Unitarian, Quaker, Independ- 
 ent, and some others. There is a Franciscan priory, with 
 a modern chapel and convent. The Dominicans have a 
 chapel ; and also the Capuchins, under Father Mathew, 
 which, when completed, will make a handsome appearance ; 
 for, in despite of poverty, intemperance, and starvation, 
 these poor Catholics find money to build and ornament 
 large and extravagant churches, and endow convents, mo- 
 nasteries and nunneries of several orders. There are sev- 
 eral literary, scientific and charitable institutions, and man- 
 ufacturing establishments ; every thing, in short, which 
 goes to make up a large commercial seaport town. 
 
 Cork has an excellent harbor ; and a vast expenditure 
 has been made to build solid stone quays, and connect them 
 with the Cove by extensive improvements in the river, 
 which are still in progress. Steamboats ply between this 
 city and London, Bristol, Liverpool, Dublin, Belfast, and 
 Glasgow, and a fair array of masted vessels lay along the 
 wharves. 
 
 There is a marked distinction noticeable among the peo- 
 ple, which T have never been accustomed to see at home, 
 except in some of our colored population, and the greenest 
 Irishmen who beg for employment. Business men appear 
 smart, active and well informed ; but the lower classes 
 bear the marks of oppression and poverty. They look de- 
 jected, heart-broken, and carry an air of discontent and 
 
LEAVE CORK. 71 
 
 suspicion, which makes one feel ill at ease among them. 
 Their very looks indicate their unhappiness — their filth 
 and rags their poverty. Numbers of them are seen all 
 about the tow^n, idle ; because they have nothing to do. 
 Beggars are met at every turn, who promise liberally, in 
 heaven's name, for the smallest pittance bestowed upon 
 them. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TO THE WEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 A Rainy Morning. — Red Coats. — ^Leave Cork. — Fine Scenery. — Old Castles. 
 — The Conquest of Ireland. — Some Thoughts. — Macroom. — A Living 
 Castle. — Squalid Misery — Mill-Street. — A Scene of Wretchedness. — A 
 Beautiful Prospect. — Cloghereen. — Description of Misery. — Sir Richard 
 Courtney. — Turk Falls. — A Grand View. — Potcheen. — Attendants. — A 
 Pedlar. 
 
 WEST OF IRELAND. 
 
 May 19. — We rose at an early hour, to take another look 
 about the city. The morninsr was rainv, and we had taken 
 an outside seat. So our main object was to find an um- 
 brella store, to secure ihe means of shielding ourselves from 
 the storm. The stores, generally, are not opened before 
 eight o'clock — the time we were to start. Our Catholic 
 companion had provided himself, the night before, with a 
 mackintosh overcoat, and started at midnight for Dublin. 
 We had a damp prospect before us ; but our spirits were 
 good, and our mortal man considerably rested ; so we did 
 not hesitate to start at the appointed time, without an um- 
 brella, for Killarney. 
 
 We settled our bills with the hostess — the women are 
 the clerks here ; men do the waiting — and asked her if that 
 was all. She replied that it was. But before we had fairly 
 
72 RED-COATS. 
 
 turned away, the head waiter demanded a " shillun," and 
 the chambermaid " a shillun, an' it plase yer honor." Boots 
 had seized our baggage, and started for the coach office. 
 We had no time to parley, and so yielded to the demand 
 of forty-five cents fo?^ service, after paying for tea, bed, and 
 breakfast, and twelve and a half more to the Boots for run- 
 ning away with our valises. 
 
 Coaches do not call for passengers at their houses or ho- 
 tels, as is the custom in our country. They take them and 
 leave them at their offices — rain or shine ; rich or poor, 
 blind or halt, it is all the same. If a man can not walk, he 
 must hire a conveyance to the office, and be sure to be 
 there at the moment, for the coach leaves as punctually as 
 our cars and steamboats. The rain was pouring down in 
 torrents. The coach was standing in the yard without 
 any shelter. Two men seated with the driver. We had 
 engaged the seats behind him. Neither had a cushion. 
 A man brought some straw and spread upon them, for which 
 he demanded a contribution. Three passengers mounted 
 behind. Soon the red- coat guard took his seat — a fat, gruff 
 Englishman — and commanded the driver to start. 
 
 I never had much respect for red-coats. My grandfather 
 taught me to think ill of them. They were always odious 
 in his eyes. Ever after he saw them at Bunker Hill and 
 Saratoga, he never liked red. And I had been taught to 
 use the word " red-coat " as a term of reproach, signifying 
 an oppressor, an enemy of justice and right, one who 
 cared nothing for any body but himself And what I have 
 seen of them here has not much altered my opinion. They 
 exhibit a proud and lofty manner. A smile is rarely seen 
 upon their lips, and few words escape them, except of au- 
 thority. Their answers are in monosyllables, and they 
 seem to take no interest in any but themselves. Of course, 
 such men are illy qualified to entertain inquisitive Yankees, 
 who are anxious to know all they can about every thing 
 they see or hear. Never mind. He pays strict attention 
 to his little mail-bags, and exchanges one at each post office 
 
OLD CASTLES. 73 
 
 Oil our route. It is very well. That is his business, for 
 which he is paid and put here. It does not belong to his 
 office to entertain or amuse travelers, who may never come 
 this way again, and from whom he expects to receive noth- 
 ing. What Englishman works, or talks, or fights without 
 pay ? We have heard much of American littleness, but 
 we have seen richer specimens of that article already than 
 were ever found in any part of our countrj^ ; and, from 
 appearances, there are more to come. 
 
 Our road run along side of the Mardyke, and near to the 
 Lee for some distance. We passed Carrigrohon castle, sit- 
 uated on a precipitous cliff, formerly a stronghold of the 
 McCarthys, now a pile of ruins. The clan of McCarthy 
 once commanded all the region about Cork. A little far- 
 ther on, we passed the village of BaUincollig — a large mili- 
 tary depot, with extensive gunpowder mills, barracks and 
 magazines, which cover a large area, with open spaces 
 about the buildings for their greater safety. Near the vil- 
 lage are the ruins of BaUincollig castle. A mile or two 
 further on, we passed the Inniscarra church, and entered 
 into a wild and picturesque region of country; not unlike 
 some scenery at home. The road winds along the river, 
 betw^een abrupt hills, with here and there a small growth 
 of young timber, wild, uncultivated lands, now ascending a 
 sharp hill, or crossing a small stream, or turning around a 
 dug way opening into a pleasant valley. 
 
 What adds most to the beauty of the scenery and makes 
 it more interesting to us, is the numerous old castles scat- 
 tered along the road, within a few miles of each other. 
 They generally stand on projecting cliffs, or points of land 
 extending into the valley. Few of them were built upon the 
 summits of hills or pointed elevations. No thought was 
 bestowed upon an attack by fire arms, for such destructive 
 weapons had not been invented at the time of their erection. 
 Hence they became an easy prey to the army of Cromwell. 
 After a few exploits of his about Kilkenny, Cork, Limerick, 
 
 7 
 
74 FEUDAL DEFENCES USELESS. 
 
 and a few other places, none of them presumed to refuse 
 their assent to the authority of the Commonwealth. 
 
 We did not learn the names of all these crumbling mon- 
 uments of Irish feudalism, for the driver could not inform 
 us. He wondered why we had the curiosity to inquire 
 about them. He had rode past them, daily, for two years, 
 and yet did not know their names. We remember a few: 
 Castle Inch, Carrignamuck, Carrigadrohid, castle Dripsey, 
 a fine old ruin, at some distance on our right, castle Lynch 
 and Kilcrea on the left, with its priory not much ruined. 
 Some where on the route are the dilapidated castles of 
 Cloghdha, Mishanaglass, Caislean, and Castlemore, formerly 
 possessed by the clan of McSwiney. 
 
 These old ruins speak to us of other times. They tell 
 of wrongs and injuries, of love and valor, of ignorance and 
 shame, of pride and oppression, of blood and carnage ; for 
 they were built and inhabited by rival clans, who were 
 almost constantly at war with each other, being, at that 
 time, elevated but a single grade above the savage state. 
 But their history and legends, like their walls and names, 
 are fast sinking into forgetfulness, and soon the dark pall of 
 oblivion will be spread completely over them. Few can 
 now tell us their origin, not even the time and cause of 
 , their abandonment. The settlement of the affairs of Ire- 
 land by the interference of England, by which the whole 
 country became subject to its authority, and the strifes and 
 quarrels of clans referable to civil tribunals for adjustment, 
 instead of an appeal to arms, had a direct influence upon 
 the social condition of the people. The spread of Christi- 
 anity, and the authority of the priests and bishops, tended 
 to allay animosities and unite the discordant elements 
 in their wild and impetuous characters, into a common 
 brotherhood. And the introduction of gunpowder rendered 
 these castles of httle value as places of defence. They 
 were not built to sustain an attack from a well appointed 
 artillery. Their strength and position were planned with 
 
CREATION OF NEW LORDS. 75 
 
 reference to the old method of defence. They were wholly- 
 inadequate to the modern mode of warfare. 
 
 The subjugation of the chiefs of the clans who had dared 
 to attempt a defence against the attacks of their enemies, 
 afforded opportunity for the confiscation of their estates, 
 which were freely and liberally bestowed upon another 
 race of aspirants for hereditary nobility and independence, 
 who were ardent in the service of their country, so long as 
 there was a hope of getting gain by the destruction of pre- 
 tended enemies. In this way English lords, earls and mar- 
 quises were installed into Irish possessions ; and Irishmen 
 who proved their honor and fidelity by distinguishing them- 
 selves greatly in the sacrifice of the lives, liberty, and honor 
 of their own countrymen, deserved so well, according to 
 the code of British political morality, that baronetcies and 
 peerages were freely given them in recompense. In this 
 way the spirit of the nation was crushed, their lands and 
 castles passed out of their hands, and they were hurled 
 from the positions they had occupied, into penury, disgrace 
 and dependence, amounting to a virtual serfdom. 
 
 Here lies one cause of Ireland's present misery and 
 shame. It has never risen from its crushed position. The 
 lion's paw is laid heavily upon it, and it writhes in agony. 
 But when it shows the least disposition to turn itself, in or- 
 der to relieve its painful condition, the old lion growls and 
 shows his teeth, all sharp for destruction, and the poor na- 
 tion lays down quietly as it can, and licks the foot of its 
 oppressor, burying deeper its miseries, which gnaw still fur- 
 ther into the very heart of its existence. There are those 
 in England who would tear the whole carcass in pieces at 
 once, and destroy it for ever ; making the Emerald Isle a 
 province, into which they might introduce colonies of their 
 own wretched population. Such men seriously desire an 
 occasion to justify a general onslaught and final extinction 
 of the Irish nation, and talk seriously about it. But heaven 
 has reserved this country for some other end ; if not for 
 freedom and honor, to be, as at present, the manufactory 
 
76 MACROOM. 
 
 of a race which is spreading itself, Uke the old Teutons, 
 among all the nations of the earth, for some pm'pose which 
 shall be hereafter made manifest. 
 
 The clouds broke away soon after we left Cork, and the 
 sun shone sweetly and warmly upon the green undulating 
 fields, brown old castles, low cabins and thatched cottages, 
 giving life and beauty to the fine scenery through which 
 we passed. 
 
 We reached Macroom, the only town of consequence on 
 the road, in little over two hours — nineteen miles. We en- 
 tered it through the romantic vale of Gleancoum. We 
 passed through the principal street, which is not over 
 twenty-five feet wide, and has no side walks. On either 
 side are rows of low stone hovels, with thatched roofs, not 
 over seven feet high, looking like a coarse white- washed 
 wall perforated with doors and windows, with a row of 
 straw piled on top of it, nicely arranged, so as to shield it 
 from the rain. The doors are generally in two parts, the 
 upper half being open. The windows are not over two feet 
 square, and but one in each room. The floor is the damp 
 clay, and there are no windows in the chambers. A great 
 number of women were sitting on benches, or on the pave- 
 ment, sunning themselves and knitting. They looked rag- 
 ged and filthy, and their countenances indicated any thing 
 but good living and contented spirits. 
 
 MACROOM. 
 
 The coach stopped in the square, near the center of 
 the town, about which are some ancient buildings, two 
 churches, a market-house, a hotel, stores, shops, and dwell- 
 ings. More than a hundred men and boys, mostly in tat- 
 tered garments, were standing about the buildings, a motly 
 group of miserable wretches, with haggard vacant faces, 
 which filled my soul with pity as they turned their sorrow- 
 ful imploring looks towards us. 
 
 Having tet: minutes to spare, we strolled about the viU 
 
A LIVING CASTLE. 77 
 
 lage. Several begged us to give them a penny. One told 
 us we could go and see the castle, and pointed us to the 
 gate, through which we passed into a beautiful lawn in 
 front of a large and elegant building, still inhabited by a 
 rich man, whose name I have forgotten. He owns a large 
 tract of the surrounding country, has many dependants, 
 who have elected him a member of Parliament. His 
 wealth makes him great. The castle, except the tower 
 and turrets on one side, is no more than a large stone house 
 — the keep of the ancient Macromp castle — the outworks 
 having been demolished. It may be eighty, perhaps a hun- 
 dred feet in front, and forty or fifty deep. It is completely 
 covered with ivy, closely matted on the sides to the very 
 roof, and nicely cut away about the windows. It is a genu- 
 ine, living castle, shorn of its feudal and warlike aspect, but 
 possessing, instead, far more aristocratic proportions and ap- 
 pearance. The grounds about are remarkably beautiful, 
 stretching along both banks of the Sullane, a small clear 
 stream, which washes its base. A large plantation of fine 
 luxuriant trees stretches off on one side, laid out with wind- 
 ing gravel walks, with beds of flowers interspersed. It is, 
 indeed, a spot of great rural beauty, made so by the taste- 
 ful application of wealth and industry. 
 
 In the wars of the revolution this was an important 
 strong-hold, and guarded the principal pass from Kerry to 
 Cork. It was the scene of many bloody conflicts. It was 
 built by the Normans, and partook of the style of architec- 
 ture peculiar to that age and nation 
 
 On coming out from the grounds of the demesne, we 
 were accosted by the sturdy fellow who had pointed out 
 the entrance to us, who wanted us to pay him. 
 
 " Pay you, for what ? We gave the woman at the gate 
 sufficient for all we have seen." 
 
 " I'fath. an' wasn't it mesilf that woos afther shooin' the 
 gintilmin the way to inter ? Sure, an' ye'U not refoose me 
 a trifle." 
 
 We undertook an argument, which could have availed 
 
78 UNHAPPINESS A CAUSE OF MISERY. 
 
 nothing with the hungry judgments about us, even if Mr. 
 Red-coat had not called out to start. We rushed to the 
 coach and made our escape, but scattered a few half- 
 pennies among the multitude, as they turned their cadave- 
 rous faces imploringly towards us, uttering many prayers 
 for God to bless us. 
 
 The valley about the town is rich, handsome and well 
 cultivated, but all in the hands of a few men. The ^^eril 
 proportion of the people subsist upon the miserable allow- 
 ances they can purchase with the wages of each day's la- 
 bor. When they have no work to do, they have no 
 victuals to eat. Their wages are never sufficient to ena- 
 ble them to lay up any thing, and the habits of their lives 
 are such that they might have no disposition to do so if 
 they could. Some of them have small patches of ground, 
 which they hire at enormous prices, but from which they 
 can produce little more than enough to pay rent and taxes. 
 A more wretched and squalid population I never saw ; and 
 yet, the tokens of affluence, and the beauties and bounties of 
 Providence are all about them — but not for them ; for even 
 beauty fades when looked at with an empty stomach. 
 
 They are unhapp}-, discontented, miserable, and, no wonder, 
 if wicked ; for who does not know that a vast amount of sin 
 results from unhappiness, real or imaginary, under which 
 men find themselves suffering ? To relieve themselves is 
 their object ; but the right means of doing it, those which 
 the Infinite wisdom and benevolence has pointed out, are 
 not well understood ; they are not believed ; and so the 
 poor, mistaken mortal rushes forward in his own way, and 
 too late finds himself deceived — that he has opened fresh 
 fountains of misery to overwhelm his soul in deeper sor- 
 row, and destroy what little comfort he had left him ! 
 
 And how these few rich men can feel at ease in their splen- 
 did mansions, while they know that whole multitudes are 
 kept in misery by the very means of their wealth and lux- 
 ury, I am not able to understand. They absorb all the 
 moisture that freshens human life, and then curse the 
 
A WET CHANCE. 79 
 
 dearth they have produced themselves ! They make men 
 poor, and ignorant, and wicked, and then curse them for 
 being so ! Macroom offers not the solitary proof of this 
 grievous iniquity in the social organism of the world, 
 though the woiking of it produces greater contrasts than I 
 have seen elsewhere. 
 
 Our road now lay, after a few miles, through a rough, 
 wild, mountainous country much of the way. We passed 
 along narrow defiles, through boggy meadows, and under 
 lofty mountains, following a small stream to its very source 
 in a large bog, from which we descended into a small val 
 ley running between two ranges of jagged, barren moun- 
 tains, in which is situated the little dirty town of Millstreet 
 We passed several ruined castles on our way; among 
 them Carrig-a-Phouca, somewhat in the style of Blarney, 
 though more dilapidated, having been built by the McCar- 
 thys, in the early style of castle architecture. 
 
 In the course of the afternoon it came on to rain in tor- 
 rents. We were wholly unprotected from the " pelting of 
 the pitiless storm." An English naval officer, on the seat 
 before us, was sheltered by a good mackintosh cape, a cor- 
 ner of which I borrowed without his knowledge, to shield 
 my knees. He also had a large blanket under him, which 
 he preferred to keep there, rather than offer it to us. An- 
 other gentleman of the same nation, on the right, had an 
 umbrella, which he contrived to hold just so as to pour an 
 additional torrent upon one of our company, never offering 
 to share it with us. The poor fellows behind, and one for- 
 ward, were as bad off as ourselves, except Mr. Red-coat, 
 who bundled himself up with several cloaks and took it pa- 
 tiently. There was not a passenger inside, and had not 
 been all day. Six might have been shielded from the storm, 
 perhaps, from sickness and untimely death But to enter 
 was not permitted, inasmuch as we had taken outside seats, 
 and neither the driver nor the guard had any option in the 
 case— we suppose they had not. Humanity is the boast 
 of John Bull. This is an illustration of it. 
 
80 A SCENE AT MILLSTREET. 
 
 MILLSTREET. 
 
 At Millstreet we stopped a few minutes, and most of the 
 passengers took a lunch. A loaf of bread, the shell of half 
 a cheese and a huge piece of cold baked beef were set 
 upon the table in the dirty bar-room. Each went and 
 cut for himself, filling mouth, hands and pockets as he chose. 
 Those who took meat paid a shilling ; for the bread and 
 cheese, a sixpence. The Englishmen had their beer, the 
 Irishmen their whiskey, the Americans cold water. Our 
 party came out with hands full, but the host of wretches 
 about the coach, who seemed to need it more than we, soon 
 begged it all away from us, and then besought us, " Plase, sir, 
 a ha'-penny, oond may God raward ye in heaven." A wo- 
 man lifted up her sick child, in which was barely the breath of 
 life, muttering, " Pray, yer honor, give me a mite for my 
 poor childer, a single penny, oond may God save yer shoul." 
 Several deformed creatures stationed themselves along the 
 street, and shouted after us in the most pitiful tones. Oth- 
 ers ran beside the coach for half a mile, yelling in the most 
 doleful manner for a " ha'-penny," promising us eternal life 
 if we would but give them one. 
 
 We observed that the Englishmen gave nothing, but 
 looked at them and spoke in the most contemptuous man- 
 ner. We could not give to all, but our hearts bled for 
 them. We may become more callous by a longer ac- 
 quaintance with these scenes of destitution and misery; 
 but at present the beauty of the Green Isle is greatly 
 marred, and our journey, at every advance, made painful 
 by the sight of such an amount of degradation and suf- 
 fering. 
 
 At one place, we saw a company of twenty or thirty 
 men, women and children, hovering about the mouth of an 
 old lime-kiln, to shelter themselves from the cold wind and 
 rain. The driver pointed them out as a sample of what 
 was common in these parts a year ago. As we approached, 
 

 WRETCHEDNESS AND STARVATION. 81 
 
 ascending a hill at a slow pace, about half of them came 
 from the kiln, which stood in a pasture some rods trom the 
 road. Such lean specimens of humanity I never before 
 thought the world could present. They were mere skele- 
 tons, wrapped up in the coarsest rags. Not one of them 
 had on a decent garment. The legs and arms of some were 
 entirely naked. Others had tattered rags dangling down 
 to their knees and elbows. And patches of all sorts and 
 colors made up what garments they had about their bodies. 
 They stretched out their lean hands, fastened upon arms of 
 skin and bone, turned their wan, ghastly faces, and sunken, 
 lifeless eyes imploringly up to us, with feeble words of en- 
 treaty, which went to our deepest heart. The Englishmen 
 made some cold remarks about their indolence and worth- 
 lessness, and gave them nothing. 
 
 I never regretted more sincerely my own poverty than 
 in that hour. Such objects of complete destitution and 
 misery ; such countenances of dejection and wo, I had not 
 believed could be found on earth. • Not a gleam of hope 
 springing from their crushed spirits ; the pangs of poverty 
 gnawing at the very fountains of their life. All darkness, 
 deep, settled gloom ! Not a ray of light for them from any 
 point of heaven or earth ! Starvation, the most horrid of 
 deaths, staring them full in the face, let them turn whither 
 they will. The cold grave offering their only relief, and 
 that, perhaps, to be denied them, till picked up from the 
 way-side, many days after death, by some stranger passing 
 that way, who will feel compassion enough to cover up 
 their mouldering bones with a few shovels-full of earth ! 
 
 And this a christian country ! a part of the great em})ire 
 of Great Britain, on whose domain the " sun never sets,'' 
 boastful of its enlightenment, its liberty, its humanity, its 
 compassion for the poor slaves of our land, its lively inter- 
 est in whatever civilizes, refiness, and elevates mankind ! 
 Yet here in this beautiful Island, formed by nature with 
 such superior advantages, more than a score of human be- 
 
82 GLORY WITHOUT MERIT. 
 
 ings, shivering under the walls of a linne-kiln, and actually 
 starving to death ! 
 
 Oh, England ! in thy rush for greatness, thou hast forgot- 
 ten to be good ! Bedazzled with the glittering glory of thy 
 armies and navies, thou hast neglected the sources of thy 
 real strength ! Giddy in admiration of the tinseled trap- 
 pings in which thou hast bedecked thy queen, and her royal 
 bantlings and nobility, thou hast become blind to the mise- 
 ry which lies festering in thy bosom. Stunned and hoarse 
 with the shoutings of thy own praise, thou art deaf to the 
 voice of justice, humanity, and religion, and sufferest thy 
 own kinsmen to be wronged, insulted, cheated of the very 
 sources of subsistence, and denied even the hope of re- 
 demption ! What hast thou done — what art thou doing — 
 for thy millions of true and loyal Irish subjects, whom thou 
 hast subdued to thy authority ! which is worthy a great 
 and christian nation ? Talk not longer of thy humanity, 
 of thy religion, of thy concern for poor slaves, thy keen 
 sense of justice and right, whilst so many are wronged, 
 and wretched at home ! The world will not believe thee 
 sincere nor honest, but cold and heartless in thy preten- 
 sions, supremely selfish in the arrangement of thy public 
 and domestic affairs, and anxious only to obtain a great 
 name, without the trouble of deserving it ! 
 
 CAUSES OF MISERY. 
 
 But these Englishmen tell us " England has exhausted 
 her ability and patience in attempts to improve the con- 
 dition of Ireland ; that she can do no more ; Irishmen are 
 a miserable race, destitute of enterprise, industry, and econ- 
 omy ; lazy, suspicious, ungrateful ; hopelessly lost in their 
 blind adherence to their old ways, and the superstitions of 
 their religion." Is it so ? Can England conquer India, 
 humble China, rule the sea, and regulate the commerce of 
 the world, and not be able to devise and apply the means 
 to improve the condition of so small a portion of her do- 
 
REMAINS. 83 
 
 minions as Ireland ; to keep its inhabitants from beggary 
 and starvation ? Then are her statesmen destitutue of the 
 higher qualities of real greatness — the knowledge and dis- 
 position to do good — " to deal justly, love mercy, and walk 
 humbly before God." 
 
 I have not yet seen enough of this country to form a safe 
 opinion of the causes of the misery and degradation we 
 meet at every step, nor to suggest a remedy ; but so much 
 wretchedness is not without a cause, for " the curse cause- 
 less shall not come." It seems strange to me that the phi- 
 losophers, and statesmen, and priests of religion, and polit- 
 ical economists, and financiers, of which England boasts a 
 full and honorable share, should not have found out some 
 method to apply its vast resources of practical knowledge, 
 and active capital, and boasted philanthropy, to prevent the 
 ignorance, and crime, and suffering, which prevail so ex- 
 tensively in this region. 
 
 They tell us " the famine, a visitation from God, which 
 fell so severely upon this part of the Island, last year, was 
 the principal cause of the misery we still see ; the failure 
 of the potato crop, upon which many thousand depended 
 for their subsistence, prevented those in possession of little 
 properties from meeting their rents and taxes, and support- 
 ing themselves !" Indeed ! That begins to let us into the 
 secret. The rents and taxes must be paid to support land- 
 lords in ease and luxury, and the government in its ability 
 to oppress this and other nations, even though wives and 
 children perish of starvation ! In default of payment the 
 baliff is directed to distrain and take from the poor tenant 
 the last resource of life and comfort, and then evict him, 
 and send him out pennyless and ragged, to seek by beggary 
 a chance to live, or a place to die. The country, it is said, 
 is overstocked with laborers, and there is no chance left for 
 this new reinforcement, and so they are compelled to wan- 
 der about with the hosts of idlers, about whose indolence 
 landlords and Englishmen prate so much. They can find 
 nothing to do, and so they do nothing but beg or steal — 
 
84 ELEGANT DWELLINGS. 
 
 the former failing to support life, we could hardly find it 
 in our hearts to blame them for the latter * Their condi- 
 tion is indeed deplorable. I never understood the depth 
 of their miseries before. I shall hereafter feel more com- 
 passion for the poor, ignorant, suspicious Irish, than I have 
 ever felt for those who seek an asylum in our blessed land. 
 Instead of blame and reproach, they deserve the sincerest 
 pity for their untoward fate. They have been reduced to 
 a state of dejection and helplessness from which it is im- 
 possible for them to deliver themselves. 
 
 But these are only our initiatory lessons, and I will for- 
 bear any further reflections, till better informed concern- 
 ing the causes of their pitiable condition. 
 
 After winding out from the heather hills and mossy bogs, 
 we came in full view of the Lakes of Killarney, the rough, 
 jagged mountains on the south, and the beautiful plain be- 
 fore us thickly studded with elegant mansions, fine fields, and 
 copses of wood, spreading around to the north and west, 
 with the town, embowered among trees, in the center of 
 the valley. The clouds had lifted, and were resting upon 
 the peaks of several mountains, and, here and there, patches 
 of sunlight were darted on different spots in the landscape. 
 It seemed to me there could not be found a more beautiful 
 place on earth. I certainly do not recollect the sight of 
 one in all my travels. Though drenched to my very skin, 
 I was in raptures at the sight of such a lovely spot. 
 
 Every thing was, doubtless, much enhanced by the cir- 
 cumstances under which I viewed it. We had been trav- 
 eling through a most desolate region, destitute, with here 
 
 * In the once thriving town of Newcastle, in the county of Limerick, dar- 
 ing the recent quarter sessions, there were over twelve hundred prisoners to be 
 tried, and it occupied the court but three days to try them all. And why? 
 Simply because they all plead guilty, in the hope of being detained in prison ; 
 and two who were discharged were the next day accused of riot in an attempt 
 to break into gaol. On his former visits the assistant-barrister had comlbrt- 
 able lodgings in the town ; on the present occasion the offer of a guinea a-night 
 could not procure him a bed, even in a cabin. All had fled from a rate ex- 
 ceeding 20s. in the pound. ---Limerick Paper. 
 
HOTEL RUNNERS. 85 
 
 and there a pitiful exception, of cultivation and inhabitants, 
 and in a merciless storm, without any protection. We 
 were wet, and cold, and hungry. The prosj)ect of a com- 
 fortable hotel, a cheerful fire, a change of clothing, and a 
 decent dinner, awakened feelings and hopes which qualified 
 us to enjoy the sudden surprise of such a moment. Be- 
 sides, we had not expected to find such wild and romantic 
 scenery in this country — such grand and lofty mountains, 
 such sweet and silvery lakes, such taste and splendor 
 in rural dwellings. Green fields, wretched hovels, and 
 degraded people we had been accustomed to associate 
 with the Emerald Isle, but not tall mountains, bend- 
 ing forests, beautiful villas, and rural magnificence; es- 
 pecially not in the west of Ireland. But here the eye 
 rests, at a single glance, upon every variety of scene- 
 ry — on mountain, lake, and vale ; on forest, glen, and 
 meadow ; on pasture, heath, and garden ; on country, town, 
 and villa ; on castle, church, and cottage ; on splendor, 
 pride, and ruin ; on riches, want, and crime ; on coaches, 
 carts, and rags ; on virtue, sin, and sorrow ; on honor, wit, 
 and shame ; on every thing, which appears to be congre- 
 gated here in distinct and forcible contrast. 
 
 On Avinding into the town between rows of stately trees, 
 which bordered the road on either side, and passing several 
 elegant mansions, we came directly to the "King's Arms" 
 hotel, before which a crowd of beggarly looking men and 
 boys were collected, each crowding about the coach, anx- 
 ious for a chance to serve us — or themselves by us. On 
 dismounting as best we could, with our wet, stiff limbs, be- 
 numbed with the cold, we fought our way through the 
 motley group, in order to relieve ourselves, if possible, from 
 their importunities. Some cried, " go to the Victoria ;" 
 others cried, " Stay here, this is a good place." But we 
 had resolved to go to " Muckruss Hotel," at Cloghereen, a 
 mile or two out of the town, and near the Lakes. Every 
 traveler should know where to stop before entering a strange 
 town ; otherwise he may be sadly imposed upon ; for the 
 
 8 
 
86 VIEW OF KILLARNEY. 
 
 meanest taverns often have the most attractive names ; and 
 there are not wanting runners to swear to any thing, enough 
 to deceive, if it were possible, those who had already elected 
 places of abidance. 
 
 We had intended to walk, in order to keep ourselves 
 from taking cold, but finding a car in waiting, as it had 
 come on to rain again, we accepted the invitation of the 
 proprietor of the hotel, and rode. One of our party, less 
 fortunate, had succeeded in getting out of the crowd, when 
 he was surrounded by a lot of ragged boys, who fairly got 
 hold of his valise and attempted to get it away from him, 
 in order to earn two-pence by carrying it a mile or two. 
 He had quite a wrangle with them, and spoke some sharp 
 words in the free speech of our own country, which con- 
 siderably alarmed our landlord, for he said they were a set 
 of desperate fellows, who might severely injure him if he 
 should excite their anger. We entreated him to desist, but 
 he was manfully resolved to push his way through, and so 
 we passed on without him. 
 
 On the way we passed some truly splendid estates. The 
 road is shaded by lofty trees, whose branches met in arches 
 over us. High walls of cemented stones enclosed the rich 
 fields, and handsome palings are about the large and elegant 
 mansions, which stand some rods from the road, in the 
 midst of delicious shade trees, and surrounded by beautiful 
 lawns, bounded by graveled walks, beds of flowers, or haw- 
 thorn hedges, winding fantastically through the groves in all 
 directions. 
 
 The sumptuousness of these dwellings contrasted fearfully 
 with the ragged specimens of poverty and misery we had 
 just seen, in the town. There was such a scene of human 
 wretchedness as was never looked on in our country, ex- 
 cept, perhaps, on the first arrival of a load of Irish emi- 
 grants, while here are such proofs of aristocratic taste and 
 ability, as American eyes have not been wont to look upon, 
 not even along the banks of the Hudson or Delaware, or 
 our large cities. The extremes meet here, and present a 
 
CLOGHEREEN. 87 
 
 sad commentary upon the institutions of this wronged and 
 unhappy country. 
 
 CLOGHEREEN. 
 
 A good turf fire, built in a grate Hke those used for coal 
 in our country, a change of clothing, and some plain re- 
 freshments, genteelly served, restored our drooping spirits, 
 and made us feel quite at home at Roche's Hotel. 
 
 In an hour, the rain having subsided, we were ready to 
 begin our excursions. The servant, who was quite intelli- 
 gent, finding that we were from America, became devoted 
 in his attentions to us, making a thousand inquiries about 
 the chances of getting a living, the best places and best 
 business to make a support for himself and family. He 
 told us of his friends who had emigrated, his plans to raise 
 funds to pay his own passage ; the extent of misery and 
 starvation which had prevailed, and of which he had been 
 a witness the vear before. He made our hearts bleed bv 
 his recital. He described scenes of suffering and death too 
 horrid to be believed, and which we could not credit but 
 for the testimony of other witnesses. It was in this region, 
 and to the south, about Skibbereen, and to the north in Gal- 
 way county, that the famine prevailed most severely. 
 
 He said he had visited houses where tv/o or three lay 
 dead, and several others were in the last stages of starva- 
 tion. Many were found dead in the highways and in the 
 fields. He mentioned one case, of a body which lay un- 
 buried by the road-side, till a notice of it had been sent to 
 America and returned in the newspapers. Some times 
 bodies lay for weeks unburied. It was a fearful time. 
 Thousands more would have died, he assured us, but for 
 the tim.ely arrival of food sent out from our country. He 
 spoke with the deepest feeling of gratitude of the generous 
 conduct of our countrymen, which afforded them so much 
 relief in the time of their terrible sufferings, and of the im- 
 mense debt due from their country to ours, which God only 
 
88 nation's honor. 
 
 could repay us. He spoke of the effect our benefactions 
 had produced upon all classes, which was so great that even 
 those who had derided us, and sneered at our institutions and 
 habits, had changed their manners, and now commended us 
 in the highest terms. 
 
 Mr. Roche, the gentlemanly proprietor of the house, 
 confirmed, in still stronger terms, all his servant had told 
 us ; and we lacked no evidence, from the highest to the 
 lowest, from the rich and noble to the humblest laborers and 
 poorest beggars, to establish our conviction that our charity 
 had not been thrown away, but that our bread which had 
 been cast over the waters would return after not many 
 days. How much more glorious is a victory thus gained 
 over the prejudices and hatred of an arrogant and hostile 
 nation, than one won by the sword in battle ! What 
 grander sight could we exhibit to the view of nations, than 
 to return the Macedonian, a ship-of-war taken from England 
 in a fight unjustly waged, to impress our seamen and crip- 
 ple our young commerce, laden with the charities of our 
 free and bountiful soil, to feed her starving millions, of whose 
 welfare she has been so sadly neglectful ? 
 
 Let others carp about the indignity to Britain's sense of 
 honor ; of the offence to her national pride. No matter ! 
 It is an offence which ought to come — a rebuke which she 
 should receive — one she needed, to teach her the lessons of 
 justice and religion, and make her see the necessity of lend- 
 ing her energies and vast resources to some better service 
 than conquest and oppression. Kindness kills. It has 
 been so in this case. The reward of our goodness is not 
 only felt at home, in the sweet consciousness of having 
 done a noble and generous act, discharged a Christian 
 duty, but every traveler receives it in the encomiums be- 
 stowed upon his country, and in the attentions shown him 
 by those who have hearts to feel the force of such a prac- 
 tical illustration of disinterested benevolence. We have 
 already received many attentions on account of our na- 
 tionality and not a few on the score of our supposed 
 
 1 
 
SIR RICHARD COURTENAY 89 
 
 wealth. Every body seems to think that Americans are 
 all rich, that none are poor ; and, therefore, we are beset 
 the more resolutely by the wretched beings whom we 
 meet. 
 
 I have been astonished to see with what facility om' 
 English companions keep clear of them. I can not tell 
 why it is, that we should be so constantly importuned by 
 beggars, while none come near them. They are better 
 dressed than we, and make a greater display. Yet, while 
 scores of ragged, half-naked, starved creatures, with sunken 
 eyes and cadaverous faces, are hanging about us, they es- 
 cape unmolested, and seem to be totally indifferent to these 
 pictures of human misery. I almost envy them their 
 equanimity under such circumstances. I do believe the 
 leanness of our pockets will compel us to disown our coun- 
 try, and play the Englishman — a downfall to which we 
 never thought to be reduced. I mean in that particular 
 hauteur of manner which forbids the approach of the poor 
 and needy. 
 
 Being ready to commence our rambles, the servant in- 
 troduced to us Sir Richard Courtenay, the famous guide to 
 all the interesting localities about the lakes and mountains 
 of Killarney. We received him with all due formality, as 
 it had been intimated to us that to humor his vanity, and 
 speak of his noble ancestry, would render him peculiarly 
 useful and interesting. He immediately informed us that 
 he was descended, through Lords Courtenay and Earls of 
 Desmond, from a noble stock, which was a branch of the 
 Royal family of France, and in some way connected, by 
 his maternal pedigree, with the house of Constinople! His 
 more immediate ancestors were knighted, by some of the 
 English kings, and held, for a long period, a distinguished 
 baronetcy in this part of the realm ; but by revolutions, 
 civil wars, and other misfortunes, the property had been 
 lost and only the title, only the poorest part, was left for 
 him. He could talk Celtic, recite Latin, and quote poetry. 
 He possessed a fair share of Irish wit and humor, but 
 
 8* 
 
90 A SALES' WOMAN. 
 
 showed a vein of sadness in all he said and did. He was 
 full of anecdote, could locate every legend, and answer, 
 without hesitation, every question asked him. All showed 
 him the utmost respect, and invariaby addressed him as Sir 
 Richard. 
 
 . He is a small, lean, dapper man, dressed in corduroy 
 breeches, an old-fashioned, long, blue coat, with metal but- 
 tons, a grayish vest, and wide straight collar. His slouched 
 hat and heavy nailed shoes completed his outward embel- 
 lishments, all of which must have looked better two years 
 ago than at present. He might be fifty, perhaps sixty ; for 
 time and circumstance had done for him considerable work, 
 leaving traces behind. Still he retained a full quantum of 
 vivacity ; except he had a bad phthisic, which retarded his 
 movements somewhat in ascending steep places, and 
 troubled him in damp weather. Such was the Knight we 
 took for our cicerone to the romantic scenery of Killarney. 
 
 We found at the door a " lady-in-waiting," with a large 
 box of curious trinkets, useful and ornamental, manufac- 
 tured from Arbutus wood. She had followed us from the 
 town, in much haste, in order to pre-engage our custom, 
 before we had committed ourselves to rival establishments, 
 but, from respect to our position, had not dared enter the 
 house, or even ask for us. She had work-boxes, needle- 
 books, nut-crackers, folding-knives, and a host of nice arti- 
 cles " too numerous to mention," all of which displayed the 
 peculiar beauties of the wood and exquisite workman- 
 ship. We had not looked for such delicate skill in a popu- 
 lation generally .so ignorant and degraded. Much of the 
 work was really very fine, and she assured us her husband 
 had larger and more elegant pieces at his store. Her man- 
 ner was exceedingly modest. She looked neat, and ap- 
 peared intelligent. We accepted her card, and promised 
 to call when we went to the village, and look at her wares 
 in prefererce to any others that might be offered. She ap- 
 peared well pleased with her success, and departed. 
 
 Our first excursion was to the Turk waterfall, a mile or 
 
UNEXPECTED COMPANY. 91 
 
 more distant, not far from the Kenmare road. Not many 
 rods from the hotel, three women joined us, and kept close 
 by all the way. They were dressed in very plain clothing, 
 with coarse kerchiefs over their heads, and nothing on their 
 feet. Two of them were of very decent appearance — 
 young, fair, and well proportioned ; but the third was 
 larger, older, and uglier. Her features were exceedingly 
 unbeautiful. We at first supposed they came to beg ; but 
 they asked for nothing, and yet followed us. We asked 
 Sir Richard the reason of this unexpected acquisition to 
 our party. His only reply was that they had come to ac- 
 company us and give us refreshment. He chatted freely 
 with them, but in a dialect we could not understand. We 
 were greatly perplexed, and not a little annoyed by their 
 presence ; not knowing what all this might mean. 
 
 After passing a few poor, and one or two decent houses, 
 we came to some rich grounds on our right, between the 
 road and the lake, laid out into beautiful shady walks, 
 amidst a thrifty plantation, or occupied for a kitchen gar- 
 den, belonging to the demesne of Mr. Herbert, whose ele- 
 gant mansion stands upon the shore of the lake. Roads 
 which enter through handsome gateways, a mile apart, on the 
 main road, guarded by porter's lodges, lead by the mansion. 
 On the left of the road is an open wild wood, of young, 
 slim firs, which extends far up the side of Turk mountain. 
 For several rods there is a low wall on the wood side, with 
 a gate near the little rivulet, which is kept locked. On 
 reaching the gate we were bidden to wait till the little girl, 
 who had been trotting ahead of us, should return from the 
 porter's lodge, to which she had gone to gain for us permis- 
 sion to visit the Falls. Soon she returned, accompanied by 
 a fat woman, who said something to Sir Richard in Celtic, 
 and then unlocked the gate. She spoke sharply to the wo- 
 men who came along with us, and they remained behind. 
 
 A few rods from the road we were shown a Cedar of 
 Lebanon, a small tree, not over ten inches in diameter and 
 thirty feet in height. Sir Richard said it was descended 
 
93 TURK WATERFALL. 
 
 from seeds brought by the crusaders and was revered as a 
 rare and curious specimen of the godly zeal and noble hero- 
 ism of the most royal knights who served in those holy 
 wars. It is enclosed by a rail fence to protect it from sac- 
 rilegious touch, and the beaten ground about it shows that 
 our worthy guide had some foundation for what he said. 
 
 A Uttle way further we came to the foot of a very pretty 
 cascade. A small rivulet, much swollen by the late rains, 
 issues from a deep ravine overhung by bending firs, and 
 plunges down a rough ledge of precipitous rocks, seventy or 
 eighty feet, in foaming fury. Every thing about it is wild 
 and romantic, and, to one unfamiliar with such scenery, it 
 presents an object of novelty and admiration. For us it 
 had few attractions. The glens of our mountain forests 
 contain innumerable cascades of superior grandeur and 
 beauty. 
 
 By a winding path we ascended to the summit of a little 
 rounded hill which overlooks the falls. A small patch has 
 been cleared of bushes and furnished with rude benches for 
 the accommodation of visitors. From this spot we enjoyed 
 a view of one of the finest landscapes we ever beheld. I 
 doubt if many more beautiful can be found in the world. 
 Almost every variety of scenery is beheld at a single glance. 
 On the south stretches a long range of mountains, crowned 
 with lofty peaks, and broken into various shapes by nar- 
 row gaps and deep glens which furrow their dark and 
 heathy sides. On the left is Mangerton, whose gentle ac- 
 clivity and boggy summit, covered with brown heather and 
 disconnected rocks, contrasts finely with the wooded cone 
 of Turk from which it is separated by a narrow valley 
 through which winds the old road to Kenmare, and down 
 which rushes, impetuously, the little rivulet which has its 
 origin in the Devil's Punch Bowl — called the Styx, and forms 
 at our feet the Turk waterfall. 
 
 Then the low glen up which runs the present road to 
 Kenmare and Glengariff, and down which flows the waters 
 of the Upper Lake. Next, the Purple mountain, or Long 
 
PlCTURESaUE SCENERY. 93 
 
 Range, whose northern base, densely wooded, rises gloomily 
 up from the very waters of the Lakes, its sides covered with 
 shrubs thickly matted and whose summit is crowned with the 
 naked peaks of the Glena and Toomies. Beyond are seen 
 McGillicuddy's Reeks, which stand as so many attendants, 
 forming a body guard around his imperial Highness, Carran 
 TuAL, the tallest of Irish mountains. A little to the right 
 stretch along the undulating Brandon and Tralee moun- 
 tains which fade away in the distance towards the ocean. 
 
 From the west to the north-east is spread out a most 
 beautiful tract which gently ascends, forming a magnifi- 
 cent amphitheater checkered by a thousand little fields of 
 varying hues and dotted all over with humble dwellings and 
 elegant villas, shaded with lofty trees, and adorned with 
 delightful flower gardens. In the bottom of this basin are 
 the silvery Lakes of Killarney, gemmed Avith innumerable 
 islets, on whose placid bosom, are mirrored the shadows of 
 the adjacent mountains, and woody shores. 
 
 From the midst of a thick foliage on one of the islands, 
 towers up in gruflf and solemn dignity like an old man among 
 his grand-children, the ivyed walls and gray battlements of 
 Ross Castle. Just beyond are the crumbling walls of an 
 old monastery, on Innisfallen ; nearer by, on the main land, 
 embowered among trees is the venerable ruin of Muckrus 
 Abbey, the finest in the kingdom. To the right, above the 
 lakes is seen the village of Killarney, which, at this distance, 
 has a beautiful and picturesque appearance ; its lofty spire, 
 lone tower, and shady suburbs add greatly to the complete- 
 ness of the picture. 
 
 The grandeur of this most charming scenery was greatly 
 enhanced, at the moment we first looked upon it, by the 
 brilliant reflection of the sweet rays of the setting sun. 
 The day had been rainy, and dark clouds still hung about 
 like the curtains of approaching night. Along the west the 
 dark veil had been brushed away, for the sun to take a fare- 
 well look of this beautiful world, before going to his rest on 
 the bosom of the broad Atlantic. Soon his glaring face 
 
04 A BEAUTIFUL SUN-SET. 
 
 was screened from our view by the Brandon hills, behind 
 which lie hasted to go down ; but left his brightest beams to 
 fringe the borders of the cloudy panoply in gorgeous scarlet, 
 which now hung about the heavens like the draping of day. 
 In a moment more the whole seemed changed, and what 
 was so brilliant began to take on a sombre hue, as despair 
 returns when newly-awakened hopes are fled. 
 
 We had gazed in the profoundest admiration upon the 
 singular variety and grandeur of this magnificent landscape, 
 till Sir Richard had sufficiently regained his pulmonary 
 powers to enable him to exhibit his intimate knowledge of 
 all the legends and localities of this romantic region. As 
 soon as his asthma had subsided, he commenced, in his 
 peculiar and attractive style, his peroration to a very 
 minute description of nearly every object within the range 
 of our vision ; naming every mountain, hill, and glen ; every 
 streamlet, copse and island, every castle, cave and cottage ; 
 every villa, church and mansion, forgetting in no case to 
 couple with everything described, all the stories and legends, 
 -ancient and modern, real or traditionary, probable or ficti- 
 tious. No poet ever recited the dreams of his imagination 
 with a truer zest ; no orator ever burned with more impas- 
 sioned eloquence, than Sir Richard on that occasion ; and 
 few were ever listened to with profounder attention. He omit- 
 ted nothing, not even himself, and the part he had borne in 
 many wonderful and ludicrous incidents and accidents which 
 had occurred in all that region for the last thirty years to 
 the thousands who had come here from all parts of the 
 world to spend a few days or weeks, in revelling amid 
 the beauties and pleasures of this wild and attractive 
 scenery. 
 
 The enchantment of that hour I can never forget. An 
 impression was made which no time can erase from my 
 memory. It was one of those lonely spots which always 
 enchant us, and which we gaze upon with peculiar delight. 
 And I thought of home, and friends far over the sea — scenes 
 
MOUNTAIN DEW. 95 
 
 more dear than this, and my prayer went up to Heaven for 
 the beauties of peace to be upon them all. 
 
 As the gray twilight began to steal over the earth, we 
 descended. On approaching the road we took a path which 
 leads directly from the falls to the road, without passing 
 through the gate of the wall by which we had entered. 
 Sir Richard called us back, that we might not forget the 
 porteress who had opened the gate — of which there was no 
 necessity, for we could have gone to the falls without en- 
 countering any obstacle and saved considerable in the dis- 
 tance. But these people are poor, and any stratagem to 
 get a few pennies to keep themselves from starvation is not 
 exactly extortion. All helps them to employment. The 
 building of a wall ten rods long, disconnected at both ends, 
 with a gate in the centre, with an object of curiosity be- 
 yond, is no wors9 than some other speculations greater men 
 have entered into. It makes business for the old woman, 
 and the little girl who goes for her, and Sir Richard and the 
 landlord, who, as they ought, have fellow-feeling for their 
 countrymen. It is lawful to adopt a protective system for 
 self, even though it be at others expense. Such is the theory 
 of governments ; why not of individuals ? 
 
 The moment we had discharged the old woman, who 
 showed little gratitude for our donation, we were beset 
 by the girls who had accompanied us, to " dhrink soome 
 gooat's malk and moounthain dew which coome froom the 
 back of Mangerton," offering us a common earthern tea- 
 cup, and holding out a wooden mug. I took a cup from 
 one, when the others started for my friends, each selecting 
 her man. 
 
 " What may this mountain dew be ?" asked I. 
 
 " Faix, sir, an' ye moost be dhry afther so lang a walk ; 
 an' we thooght we'd bes afther fetchin' the gintilmin soome 
 moounthain dew, and goat's milk." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; but what is it ? What is it good for ?" 
 
 " Sure, an' 'twill rist ye, an' ye'll fale all the bether foor 
 it, an' kape ye froom takin' coold, it will." 
 
96 A SURPRISE. 
 
 Upon this she poured some milk into the cup, and then 
 unstopped a small, square glass bottle, from which she was 
 about to pour something. I asked, 
 
 " What is that — poison ?" 
 
 " Not the divil a bit of it. It's the pure moounthain dew 
 froom behind Mangerton ; an' ye'll not remimber a bit o' 
 what ye've seen, without ye dhrink it." 
 
 *' Well, then, pour in a little, for I would not forget the 
 views of the past hour for a fortune. I may never ' look 
 on the like again.' " 
 
 " Sure, an' ye're a nice gintilmin." 
 
 She poured some from her flask into the milk, and I 
 tasted it. 
 
 " Oh, you blessed woman ! what have you done ? You 
 have given me whiskey. What shall I do ? What will 
 Father Mathew, whose pledge I signed last night, say to 
 me ? He will never pardon me this sin as long as I live." 
 
 " Nivir a bit will ye be the woorse foor it, an' God hilp 
 ye, sir. Ye's no nade to faare he'll ivir find it oout, at all, 
 at all." 
 
 " But what if I should confess to him that I had broken 
 the pledge ?" 
 
 " Oh, the divil — git soome oother confissor, who doont 
 care if a gintilmin dhrinks a bito'potcheen, noo and thin." 
 
 " That will never do. And besides, you have deceived 
 me. You told me it was mountain dew, when it is whis- 
 key" 
 
 She seemed a little frightened by the manner in which 1 
 said this, colored considerably, and looked down. At length 
 she replied in a different tone, as if fearful she had offended 
 me. 
 
 Oh, sir, it's made joost back o' Mangerton, an' we call it 
 the moounthain dew." 
 
 " But I fear you have dipped it from the Devil's Punch 
 Bowl, which Sir Richard says lies upon Mangerton, where 
 the O'Donoghue used to hold conferences with his dark 
 majesty, and pledge himself to his service with a glass of 
 
SENTIMENT. 97 
 
 punch. If I had taken much of it, I am sure it would play 
 the devil with me, as it has with thousands of others." 
 
 " Nivir a bit o' harm will it be afther doin' ye. 'Twill 
 kape ye waarm, an' do ye good, an' make ye kape in 
 mimory all ye huv sane, it will." 
 
 Taking warning by my discovery one of our party re- 
 fused to taste either the goat's milk or mountain dew, 
 though most earnestly beset to do so. They thought him a 
 strange mortal, and entered a very solemn protest against 
 the mistake and folly of Father Mathew and the temper- 
 ance cause. It seemed to them, doubtless, as it has to a 
 thousand others, that it is a meddlesome interference with 
 their vocation to dissuade people from buying their need- 
 less and pernicious stuff, from the sale of which they make 
 an honest living ! 
 
 Neither of these young women could read or write, and 
 one of them could not speak the English language. Their 
 conversation was carried on in Celtic. On our way back, 
 they sang us several songs in their native dialect, which 
 Sir Richard interpreted for our better understanding. The 
 airs were very fine, and, heard in the stillness of the forest 
 glen, at the twilight hour, and under circumstances to us 
 so novel and romantic, produced in us peculiar and inde- 
 scribable emotions. The sentiment of their songs was less 
 edifying, but served to give us some knowledge of their 
 habits of thought and manner of life. They were love 
 ditties, or romantic tales of pledged affections, broken vows, 
 pining love, or speedy retribution. The character of their 
 heroes was always that of courage in fight, or on the sea, 
 and the highest achievement the possession of wealth and 
 successful love. Faithlessness to plighted love was marked 
 with the severest retributions, while painful constancy was 
 most highly praised. 
 
 There was a meekness and simplicity in their manners, 
 and such apparent sincerity and truthfulness in all they 
 said, that we became very much interested in them. They 
 made many inquiries about our country, and expressed the 
 
 9 
 
98 A NEW COMER. 
 
 strongest desire to find an opportunity to remove to it. 
 The only obstacle was the want of means. They were 
 ready to leave their parents, and friends, and country, at 
 any moment, if they could but go to " Amiriky." They 
 offered to work for us a w^hole year if we would pay their 
 fare ; and would start off alone, or go with us when we 
 should return. Before leaving us we gave them a shilling 
 a-piece, with which they seemed much pleased, and were 
 very inquisitive to know the plan of our visits. They said 
 if we went to the Gap of Dunloe and the Reeks, they 
 would meet us there. They lived, we learned, near the 
 town, and had come four miles for the chance of serving 
 us with a little milk and whiskey, and now offered to go 
 eight or ten miles to serve us again. 
 
 On returning we found our lady of the Arbutus work 
 still in waiting, and another, younger, handsomer, and more 
 talkative, along with her. We learned that she had re- 
 turned half way to the town, when she met this legate of a 
 rival establishment, and, fearing she would persuade us to 
 forget our pledge to patronize her, she returned to keep an 
 eye upon her own prospective interests. The new comer 
 was really very handsome, and withal prettily dressed, 
 lively and witty, which excited, in no small degree, the sus- 
 picion of her rival, because it attracted more attention to 
 her wares, for the sake of her pleasing conversation. 
 
 The servant took me aside, and advised that we should 
 patronize the first in preference, representing, with Irish 
 positiveness, that her wares were much better and cheaper ; 
 that she had come first, and had a right to our custom ; 
 that the last was an interloper, and had no business to come 
 here. He showed a good deal of feeling, and tried to en- 
 list Sir Richard on his side. But the Knight retained a 
 respectful and dignified indifference, refusing to give a pre- 
 ference when we referred to him as umpire. The amuse- 
 ment became tiresome, and we retired to our chamber, to 
 enjoy the luxury of one of the neatest and best beds we 
 ever laid our weary limbs upot ., 
 
SCENERY. 90 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 KILL ARNEY. 
 
 A Rural Dwelling. — National Schools. — Ascent of Mangerton. — A Retinue. 
 — Mary. — Favor. — Devil's Punch Bowl. — Bachelors' Spring. — Mountain 
 Bog. — A Splendid View. — The Descent. — The Lakes. — Dinas Island. — 
 Glena. — Innisfallen. — Ross Castle. — Lord Kenmare. — The Town — 
 Dinner. 
 
 May 20. — We took an early ramble through the hamlet 
 of Cloghereen, and back among the cabins, a few miles. 
 The sky was clear and bright. The sun was just rising 
 above the lofty range of mountains. Every thing in na- 
 ture was calm and beautiful. The air was pure and deli- 
 cious. The wide-spread and richly variegated scenery was 
 painted in the fairest hues of a delightful spring morning. 
 Numerous birds were caroling their sweetest lays, which 
 mingled harmoniously with the silent beauties of that hour, 
 in a grand cantata of eloquent praise to the wise and good 
 Father, and Preserver of all things. 
 
 It seemed to me that no part of earth had been more be- 
 nevolently cared for than this ; that no where was there a 
 richer profusion of natural blessings, a stricter adaptation 
 of all the means of human enjoyment to the great end of 
 man's existence — the attainment of virtue, tranquility, and 
 happiness. The eye could revel amid beauty and grandeur 
 without limit ; the ear was charmed with the music of 
 birds ; and the aroma borne on the passing zephyr added 
 to the delights of such an hour. 
 
 But when I looked for the finishing adornment of such a 
 scene, for the sparkling gems of moral and intellectual 
 beauty ; for the refinement, comfort, and social equality and 
 prosperity which should find a home in the midst of this 
 profusion of rural magnificence and splendor, my vision re- 
 turned to me the burdens of wrong, and my heart was 
 made sad. Tea's started to my eyes, and a sig'h came in- 
 voluntarily fron" my lips, which contrasted strangely with 
 
100 A peasant's abode. 
 
 the sparkling dew-drops trembling on every leaf, and the 
 music warbled to every breeze. The words of one of 
 England's sweetest poets rushed — a little altered — upon 
 my memory : — 
 
 ** What though delicious breezes 
 
 Blow o'er the Emerald Isle, 
 And every prospect pleases. 
 
 While only man is vile : 
 In vain with lavish kindness. 
 
 The gifts of God are strown, 
 The people, in their blindness, 
 
 Bow down to Britain's throne " 
 
 We called at the door of the best looking cottage, simply 
 to ascertain how these poor people live. It was built of 
 stone, laid up like a rough cellar wall, in common mortar, 
 without any plaster inside. The outside had been white- 
 washed with lime at some former period ; we judged from 
 the patches left in the sheltered places. The roof was 
 thatched with straw. There was but one room, perhaps 
 fifteen by twenty feet, in the building, one door, and two 
 small windows without glass. The floor was the cold 
 ground, clayed over with a thin layer, which was broken 
 through in several places. A coarse frame, serving for a 
 bedstead, stood in one corner, and some ragged cloth- 
 ing lay upon it. Another pile, in the form of a bed, lay 
 upon the ground close by it. Two old broken chairs, a 
 small bench — on which sat a little girl, with a child in her 
 arms — an unpainted table and a large chest constituted the 
 rest of the furniture. There were a few garments hung 
 about the room, looking common and dirty. There was 
 no floor nor cross beams over head. The pointed rafters, 
 ribbed so as to sustain the layers of straw, formed the ceil- 
 ing, all black with smoke, which had not escaped so readily 
 as could have been wished through the little aperture in the 
 ridge of the roof near the east gable. The culinary uten- 
 sils consisted of an iron pot, teakettle, frying pan, and a 
 wooden bucket or pail, with one stave higher than the rest 
 
POVERTY IN HOPE. 101 
 
 and rounded for a handle, stood on the ground near an open 
 dresser, which displayed five plates, one or two teacups and 
 saucers, a wooden noggin, and, it might be, half a dozen 
 other articles. This was all the furniture the house con- 
 tained, except a spade, with a long handle, standing in one 
 corner, and an old basket near the fire-place. 
 
 When we entered, a woman was squatfed down by a 
 bunch of peat, with which she was kindling a fire on the 
 floor beside the wall, and under the aperture before men- 
 tioned. There were no jambs, no hearth, no chimney, 
 nothing but the ground and three stones, so placed that a 
 kettle could rest on them and be over the fire. She rose 
 as we entered We told her whence we came, and the ob- 
 ject of our visit — to learn how Irish people live at home. 
 
 " Indade, an' we git aloong boot poorly. My man bes 
 oout o' wark these moony days, an' the poor childers, as ye 
 sees, bes ragged, an' ofthen cry for praties. Boot we're 
 bether as how we was last yare, foor then we coomiC nare 
 stharvin'. An' Amiriky bes a blissid coounthry, where 
 ye've ivery thing to ate, an' tha childers nade noot be afther 
 cryin' foor hoonger. Tha good Lord bliss us, an' we hoope 
 to ba afther goin' till yer blissid coounthry in another yaro 
 moore, so an' tha times bes goode." 
 
 We asked her if her husband could not find employment. 
 
 " Rare a bit duz he be afther gittin' ofthen. He warks 
 
 foor Misther , in Cloghereen, an' pays foor the rints, 
 
 an' tha pasthurin' foor tha gooats, an' he gits a litthle moore 
 than to pay the cess. Tha Lord huv marcy oon us, an' 
 prootict us froom stharvin', as moony aboot heres did last 
 yare." 
 
 We inquired about her family, how many children she had, 
 whether they went to school, what they learned, and what 
 she expected to do with them, and many other things 
 which served to give us some insight into the domestic con- 
 dition, habits, and prospects of these poor families. She 
 answered all our inquiries readily, and seemed to consider 
 it no impertinence on our part. In her personal appearance, 
 
 9* 
 
102 HUMAN SUFFERING. 
 
 if properly dressed, she would pass for a very handsome 
 woman. She might be thirty years old, has three children, 
 all puny little creatures, made so by insufficient and un- 
 wholesome food. Then' clothes were nothing but a chemise 
 hung loosely about their lean bodies, giving no protection 
 to their limbs further than their knees and elbows. It was 
 a picture of stark poverty such as I have never beheld in 
 our country. We spoke some words of comfort and hope 
 and left a small benefaction, for which we received many 
 thanks and prayers to heaven for a prosperous journey and 
 a safe return. 
 • As we left that humble cot, and gazed again on the beau- 
 ties of that delicious morning, we could not restrain a sigh 
 for the misery and degradation of fallen humanity, nor with- 
 hold a feeling of mingled pity and contempt for those who 
 suffer and those who inflict these wrongs upon God's chil- 
 dren. There is something sadly out of joint in the social 
 relations of the world. Christianity has, so far, signally 
 failed to produce that warm and generous sympathy which 
 should induce its professors to " bear one anothers' burdens," 
 to feed the poor, clothe the naked, visit the sick, and pro- 
 vide for strangers. And no where have I seen wit, and 
 wealth, and beauty, so fearfully contrasted with ignorance, 
 poverty, and shame as here. Never before have I seen hu- 
 manity so crushed and fallen, beneath the iron hoof of op- 
 pression. 
 
 Tell me not of the slaves of my own country. They are 
 wronged and degraded enough, heaven knows. But they 
 do not starve, and in their warm climate rarely freeze. Here 
 they both starve and freeze, and yet are free. Free ? 
 Free for what ? Free to live in ignorance, poverty, and 
 shame, or to die of starvation ! They are not free to till 
 the soil : not free to work for a recompense ; not free to kill 
 the hare to keep it from their cabbage-fields, or to keep the 
 wife and children from the horrors of starvation. Call 
 this liberty ? It is the liberty to be a slave, to be wretched 
 and to die of hunger. 
 
EDUCATION WANTED. 103 
 
 But the patronizing government has done something for 
 these poor creatures. It has built a few national school 
 houses, it has established work-houses, and extensive bar- 
 racks for the accommodation of soldiers, and police stations 
 for the employment of young men to watch the people ; 
 and large jails for all sorts of offenders ; and it has enacted 
 laws so stringent, in the imposition of taxes to support all 
 these establishments, that ordinary farmers are made poor, 
 or kept so by the exorbitant rents and taxes upon what little 
 property they may possess. It is as well to have nothing 
 as a small estate, for landlords and publicans soon reduce 
 both to an equality. And even the rich complain most bit- 
 terly that their properties are encumbered with intolerably 
 enormous taxations, which will soon make them poor. 
 
 Not far from the cabin where we called there is a coarse 
 stone building on which is written " National School," but 
 it compares unfavorably with the common school houses of 
 our country. It is a cold, heavy, bleak -looking building. 
 There is nothing attractive about it. It looks more like an 
 old dilapidated church, or county jail than a place for young 
 and ardent minds to acquire knowledge. But I was glad to 
 see it there. The simple words " National School," is a re- 
 buke to the ignorance that so extensively abounds, and when 
 they are made free, so that the poor can be educated, will 
 prove to be the great bulwarks of freedom, religion, and 
 happiness. At present, not half the people can afford to 
 send their children at all ; and very few more than two or 
 three months, for a certain sum has to be paid for every 
 child which attends. This the poor can not raise ; so their 
 children grow up in ignorance. 
 
 Talk of oppressive taxes, the burden upon the rich, or 
 the inability of the government to furnish funds for educa- 
 tion, as much as they will, one thing is certain, the condition 
 of Ireland can never be really improved till the people are 
 educated. And as England would be honorable and just, 
 she owes it to the oppressed people of Ireland to give them 
 this boon. There is wealth enough among the higher 
 
)04 AMERICA. 
 
 classes to send abroad the schoolmaster with the lessons 
 of wisdom, sufficient to enlighten, warm, and renovate this 
 depressed and miserable country. Think of the millions 
 squandered by the rich who are non-residents, who live in 
 splendor and worthlessness in London or on the continent, 
 who keep large tracts of land unproductive, for hunting 
 grounds., and come here once in two or three years to amuse 
 themselves a week or two with field sports, and, leave the 
 people to die in ignorance and misery ! 
 
 What are " National Schools" more than a name under 
 such regulations as these. We had to struggle long in our 
 own land before the rich could understand why they should 
 assist to educate the children of the poor. And even now 
 some States do not admit the doctrine, and in none are the 
 highest rooms of learning open to the poor. A young man 
 must have wealth before he can graduate with the honors 
 of a college. Thousands of the brightest genius of our 
 country are doomed to years of severe toil to acquire the 
 knowledge which wealth bestows, on easy terms, upon its 
 favorites. But so far as common schools — the just pride of 
 America — are concerned, we are far in advance of Great 
 Britain. They are the defences of our free institutions, 
 stronger than walls and fortresses, and mightier than armies 
 and navies. Ireland never can be redeemed, nor England 
 be truly free, noble and glorious, without them. 
 
 ASCENT OP MANGERTON. 
 
 After breakfast the ponies we had ordered, were brought 
 to the door, and each made his. selection and mounted. 
 The two Englishmen joined our company, making five in 
 all. Sir Richard was in attendance, staff in hand, ready 
 for the ascent. I said to him, "Is your honor to go on 
 foot ? That will never do. You are too old, too infirm, 
 and of too honorable extraction to be reduced to such toil. 
 Besides that asthma might come on and deprive us of your 
 
A PONY RIDE. 105 
 
 excellent company, and vast fund of information. Go, get 
 yourself a pony and it will cost us but a trifle a-piece." 
 
 It did us good to see the effect of this speech. Sir Richard 
 cheered up in an instant, ordered his pony, mounted and sat 
 upright with as much dignity as if he had been the Duke of 
 Wellington. With his little brass horn he sounded the 
 command and started on before our cavalcade. A dozen 
 men and boys had been hanging about the hotel, begging 
 the privilege to go up with us and hold our horses. We had 
 denied all ; but half of them started of in hot pursuit ; and 
 on our way we found several had gone in advance. 
 
 Sir Richard led the van for some distance, I noticed, in 
 ascending up a steep ascent, several women started out 
 from behind the masses of rocks and spoke to him. On 
 the plain, part way up the mountain, occupied as a pasture 
 for cows, horses, and sheep, there are several rude huts 
 scattered about, more miserable than the one before described. 
 Some of them are destitute of gardens, fences, trees, and 
 every thing ; standing out solitary and alone in the rocky 
 pasture. The business of the inmates is, to tend the flocks and 
 take care of the dairies ; to work in the bog, cutting, drying and 
 carting the turf; or to labor in the town upon the farms of the 
 landlords. Some of the women knit stockings and spin 
 yarn, which they sell at the fairs. In the summer the 
 young women and boys make quite a business by following 
 visitors to the top of the mountain, or about to the distant 
 places visited by strangers, to hold their horses and furnish 
 them with "goat's milk and mountain dew." This is, in 
 common times, by far the most profitable employment they 
 can find. The girls are furnished with a clean wooden 
 mug, in which they carry milk, an earthen cup which serves 
 for a cover to the milk, and a tumbler to drink from, and a 
 small square flask for the whiskey. 
 
 On attaining the first eminence we were beset by a flock 
 of these girls, who carried their mugs under a coarse cover, 
 but held them out to us, half a dozen speaking at once, and 
 all urging us to drink. We refused, trying to put them oflf 
 
106 UNEXPECTED COMPANY. 
 
 till our return. We could not drive them away till they 
 saw another coming, when they forsook us and laid siege 
 to him. We cantered our ponies briskly over the plain, 
 thinking to outrun these annoyances of girls and boys, who 
 were so very anxious to do us service. But on ascending 
 the next height we found ourselves waylaid by another set, 
 as earnest in their efforts to promote our happiness as the 
 former. We really might have thought ourselves much hon- 
 ored by these attentions, had it not been so obvious that 
 some other feeling than respect or gratitude moved them to 
 bestow on us such marked attentions. We asked Sir Ri- 
 chard what was to be done, how we should meet these nu- 
 merous demands upon our gallantry. He could give us no 
 directions, point out no way of escape, so we resolved to 
 make the annoyance as light as possible. I accepted from 
 one, the most intelligent, a cup of milk. She wanted me 
 to promise not to receive any from any other, as she would 
 serve me better than they could. I now saw the meaning 
 of what I did not understand before — why the girls yester- 
 day, and those we met this morning, wanted us to engage 
 them to go to the top of Mangerton. And, on inquiry, I 
 found there was a good deal of opposition in this business, 
 which sometimes leads to severe fights between the daugh- 
 ters of the mountain and those of Cloghereen, and Killar- 
 ney. A sort of tacit agreement prevails that any one en- 
 gaged had, of course, the right of protection. I told Mary 
 I hardly dared make her the promises she asked, lest she 
 should forsake me and go to serve the Englishmen, who 
 looked smarter. 
 
 " Niver a bit, I'll do it ; that I wont ; not if yer honor'U 
 take noo milk nor potheen froom iny ither boot meself," she 
 said, with a modest courtesy. 
 
 " But the women are apt to be treacherous and faithless, 
 are they not ?" 
 
 " Upoon my shoul, an I'll not be afther giving a sangle 
 dhrop to inny gintilmin boot yerself, not at all, at all." 
 
 " What do you ask for your milk and whiskey?" 
 
 I 
 
A CONVERSATION. 107 
 
 " Joost what yer honor bes plased to give ; and I'll hoold 
 yer poony foor yer vi'hile yer goone till the toop o' Manger- 
 ton and ye need not git any boye to hoold it." 
 
 " That would not be respectable. In our country we do 
 not treat our women in that way. We make ladies of 
 them, and keep them in the house." 
 
 " Sure an' I wish I was in Amiriky. I've a coousin there. 
 She bes there these five yare, an' has sint hoome foor her 
 broother an' sister, the mooney for their passage, an' they 
 bes goone these thra yares. An' I'd like to goo." 
 
 "Why don't you go ?" 
 
 " Och,sure, an'becase I've noo mooney enough till take me 
 there. I'm thrying to save enough, but I doont know, so 
 mooney ither coome here, we git boot little." And she 
 looked sad. 
 
 " Would you go home with me if I would pay your pas- 
 sage, and live with me ?" 
 
 She looked up to me earnestly, as if to ascertain whether 
 I was serious ; and I looked so, unless my face belied my 
 heart. She smiled, as a tear gathered in her eye, and in a 
 changed voice, which trembled and hesitated for some mo- 
 ments, she replied modestly : 
 
 " Yis, sir, if yer honor'll take me, and my mither'll con- 
 sint ; an' I'll work fur ye a whoole yare to pay ye." 
 
 " Do you think your mother would consent to let you go 
 with a stranger, with a man of whom she knows nothing ?" 
 
 " I'll ax her when we goo doown, and let ye know. My 
 coousin wint, and they were sthrangers to her in yer cooun- 
 thry. The Americans are all rich and good peoples; I 
 should like to goo there. They sint us soo much male last 
 yare which kept us from stharvin, I know they'd be good to 
 a poor Irish girl." 
 
 This conversation continued for a long time, and on va- 
 rious subjects, as she kept close by my horse all the way, 
 and did not leave me for a minute till we reached the well 
 near the top of the mountain. She was a girl, perhaps, 
 eighteen, of medium stature and very well formed. Her 
 
108 - CONDITION DESCRIBED. 
 
 manners were very simple and modest, savoring little of the 
 coarseness we see in many of her nation. She was intelli- 
 gent, for one uneducated, being barely able to read, and 
 seemed to possess all the pre-requisites for a good scholar. 
 I was surprised at the shrewdness and propriety of much 
 of her conversation. She showed a strong and active 
 mind, which had profited by what she had seen and heard. 
 But she had never been but three miles from home, nor seen 
 many strangers, except those who came to visit this moun- 
 tain ; for it was rare that others suffered her to go to the 
 Reeks, or to the Gap of Dunloe. 
 
 She told me she always went to mass on Sunday, and 
 rarely ever went to the town on any other occasion. She 
 lived with her mother, who was a widow with four children, 
 all younger than herself, and did what she could to help her 
 support them. They had two goats, from the milk of 
 which they derived most of their living. They knit some 
 stockings, spun some wool, and sometimes she carried turf 
 from the bog. But she earned most by serving those who 
 came in summer to visit the mountain. One of her sisters 
 died the year before of starvation. She wept like a child 
 while she described to me the sufferings they endured, and 
 spoke in the most glowing terms of their joy when they re- 
 ceived from the committee of distribution a few pints of 
 corn meal, which had been sent from our country. 
 
 1 have not wondered since that hour, why Irishmen should 
 be ready to forswear their country and seek a home in 
 America. The cause is plain enough. I shall henceforth, 
 with all their faults, feel very differently for them than in 
 times past. 
 
 Two or three of our party were in advance of us. A 
 girl for each was clambering over the rough stones to keep 
 close to them. When ascending the steep places they would 
 cling hold of the horses' tails with one hand to help them- 
 selves along more easily. None of them had on shoes, and 
 but two of them any covering for the head. One of 
 them was a very large, coarse-featured woman, whose looks 
 
EXCLUSIVENESS. 109 
 
 were any thing but fascinating — a real specimen of the 
 worst looking Irish who emigrate. She could speak but a 
 few words of English. But her looks and actions betokened 
 her thoughts. She tried to ingratiate herself into the ser- 
 vice of the Englishmen, so as to secure their patronage of 
 her " milk and dew." But she found them very untracta- 
 ble. They did take some, however, once or twice, but with 
 such an ill grace, that the sixpence fell coldly into her hand. 
 They kept clear of everything like sociability or friendliness 
 with the men and women and boys who attended us, main- 
 taining an air of self-importance which cowered all about 
 them, and awakened feelings of antipathy to which they 
 gave free expression in their absence. 
 
 A strong feeling of hostility exists between the Irish and 
 English, and especially between the Catholics and Protes- 
 tants, which refuses all reconciliation, and manifests itself on 
 all occasions where they come in contact. The Protestant 
 Irish are regarded with more favor by the English, and 
 many efforts are made to array them against their own 
 countrymen ; in too many instances with entire, or partial 
 success. A good deal of jealousy prevails among the 
 Catholics towards all Protestants, growing out of the oppres- 
 sions and privations inflicted for the support of the govern- 
 ment religion. We saw numerous exhibitions of this feel- 
 ing, not less frequent upon one side than the other. The 
 slightest opportunity seemed to justify an expression of ill- 
 feeling. 
 
 These two gentlemen were strangers. Their conduct 
 was in all respects very proper and honorable. They 
 showed no disposition to irritate or injure those who came 
 about them, but, so far as we saw, treated all respectfully 
 and paid liberally for what they had. But it required little 
 sagacity to perceive that there was no real respect or sym- 
 pathy felt for these people. There was a bluntness, a hau- 
 teur, and exclusiveness, and a patronizing manner about 
 them which excited neither gratitude nor esteem. They 
 
 10 
 
110 WATER SCENE. 
 
 were shunned, or approached timorously, merely to serve 
 them for what they might receive. 
 
 We may have been deceived, cheated by our own vanity ; 
 or it might have been that they hoped to receive more gen- 
 erous compensation from us ; but it was a fact, obvious to 
 all, that wherever we were known as Americans, we re- 
 ceived the most marked attentions, from the highest to the 
 lowest. All seemed anxious to serve us to the utmost of 
 their ability, to answer all our questions, and ask us a thou- 
 sand more about our " bhssid coounthry." And occasions 
 were not wanting when they vented to us their feelings of 
 hatred for the Enghsh, sneering covertly at the manners or 
 some expressions of the men in our company, which others, 
 less alienated and inimical in their feelings, would never 
 have noticed. They kept close to us, and each tried to 
 supplant the other, by offering us drink. I told them I 
 had chosen Mary, for mine, and that I should not drink 
 milk nor water from the cup of another. This saved me 
 all further annoyance, from which my companions were not 
 so luckily exempted. 
 
 On arriving near the summit, we descended into a basin, 
 or crater, in the bottom of which is a small pond, called the 
 " Devil's Punch Bowl." It is a beautiful sheet of water ; it 
 may be twenty rods wide and a hundred long, of an oval 
 form and bordered by an inaccessible precipice upon the 
 south and east sides, the dark and rugged outlines of which 
 reflect their hideous forms from the mirror surface of the 
 lake. It is said, with what truth I know not, that no line 
 has been found long enough to sound its depth. It is also 
 told, as a great marvel, that Lord Somebody actually swam 
 quite around it, but suffered a severe sickness in conse- 
 quence. The water, at this season, is very cold and clear, 
 and Sir Richard said it retained the same temperature at all 
 seasons of the year. 
 
 Near the border of the Bowl is a fine clear spring of lim- 
 pid water, called the "Bachelor's Well." The girls all 
 rushed forward in advance of us, dipped a cup full, and run- 
 
THE BROGUE. Ill 
 
 ning back, thrust it into our faces. Of coarse we must 
 drink, but before doing so, we inquired what were the pecu- 
 liar virtues of the water. Sir Richard replied, that it had 
 been believed, from time immemorial, that any bachelor 
 drinking three times of this water would be sure to fall in 
 love with some lady whom he would finally marry. 
 
 I asked Mary, who held her cup out to me, if she be- 
 lieved that ? She looked down modestly and replied, " They 
 say so." 
 
 " Is there any danger if one drinks but little ? for I am 
 very dry." 
 
 " Sorra a taste o' it'll harm ye at all, at all ; barrin yer 
 honor do kape clare o' tastin' a dhrop o' it the third time ;" 
 said a middle-aged woman I had not noticed before. 
 
 " And what if one of us should chance to drink the third 
 time, and then take a notion to love and marry some 'Kate 
 o' Killarney ;' do you suppose there would be a chance of 
 success, or would he be obliged to throw himself in despair 
 down the precipice into the Horse Glen, about which Sir 
 Richard has been telling us ?" 
 
 " Faix, sir ; nivir a bit o' it at all ; for, sure there do not 
 bes the likes of a purty damsel in all swate Ireland as 
 wouldn't marry ony gintilmin froom Amiriky, an' go till 
 there vvid him, an' make him a gude wooman, an' rare up 
 his childers as dacenter nor the rapscallions at hoome " 
 
 " Upon my honor, were I a young man, I might be 
 tempted to take a third and copious draught from this 
 charmed fountain, with such a prospect before me." 
 
 " Musha, an' ye'd nivir lamint it at all, foor ye'd save 
 anither poor craytur' froom poverty an' sufferin', and lade 
 her in the road to happiness." 
 
 " Begorra, 'tis that same what I'm thinkin, too," said Sir 
 Richard, in a genuine Kerry brogue, forgetting his fashion 
 of English accent. " We've as handsomer, an' dacenter, 
 an' cliverer nor can be foound in ony ither coounthry, an' 
 will make yer honor as moore happy. Ayeh, there*, now, 
 Mary, in troth, ye've noo nade to look so moody. Ye're 
 
112 ^N ADVENTURE. 
 
 no spalpeen, to be asnamed. Oh, wirra, ye do bes lookin' 
 as a colleen goin' to confission," said he, merrily. 
 
 Finding the comments of these simple-hearted people 
 growing rather direct and personal, I retm-ned to our com- 
 pany, mounted my pony, and started off by a path which 
 led around the south side of the crowning summit. None 
 followed me, and I did not perceive my mistake till I heard 
 the trumpet of Sir Richard, whom I saw on foot; turned 
 directly up towards the peak. He called me back. But 
 my ambition led me to seek the top by a direct route. I 
 attempted to turn my pony, but he refused to put his foot 
 upon the grassy turf. I urged him in vain. Despairing of 
 riding him further, I turned him about and dismounted, and 
 then started on foot to ascend to the summit. 
 
 I soon learned the reason why the pony would not ven- 
 ture from the path. The soft bog would not bear him ; 
 and I found it impossible to proceed without miring. I re- 
 turned to the path, but my horse was now a full half mile 
 from me. A little farther on, I found the bed of a ravine, 
 up which I followed for some distance. The bottom was 
 of naked granite, of a light hue and a good deal fractured. 
 On either side, the soft, black bog was piled up from six to 
 eight feet deep. The rains had washed out the narrow 
 ditch up which I went. Clambering up the side, I saw that 
 it would bear me while I kept close to the edge ; but the 
 moment I stepped aside, I began to sink. I could thrust 
 my cane down the full length of it any where. 
 
 I was much surprised to find a deep bed of peat crown- 
 ing the very apex of the mountain, and extending far down 
 its sides, except where the rocks were so steep that the rains 
 had washed it all away. I had supposed the bogs were in 
 low valleys only, where masses of vegetable matter had 
 been deposited from the higher lands by the rains which 
 wash the mountains. But here, upon the rounded sum- 
 mit of a mountain, two thousand seven hundred feet high, 
 is a vast field of bog, averaging, as far as I could judge, the 
 depth of six feet, and resting directly upon a surface of 
 
MOUNTAIN SCENERY. 113 
 
 smooth granite, of which the mountain is principally com- 
 posed. There is no layer of clay, no strata of marl, sand, 
 or gravel beneath it. The surface of the bog is covered 
 by a thin grass, the roots forming a shallow sward, which 
 is insufficient to bear men or cattle, when the mass below 
 is saturated, as it generally is, with water. 
 
 With great difficulty, I succeeded in reaching the summit 
 as soon as my companions. Here we had a magnificent 
 prospect in all directions, as far as the eye could reach, ex- 
 cept a small space at the west, towards Derry-Nane — the 
 former residence of O'Connell, which was hidden by the high- 
 est peak in Ireland, Carran Tual, and McGillicuddy's Reeks, 
 which stand like towers of defence about their royal mas- 
 ter. North of them, beyond a fine, undulating country, 
 we could see Dingle Bay ; and on the south, over rough, 
 barren hills, cut in pieces by deep glens and widening vales, 
 lay, in glassy brightness, the Bay of Kenmare, and a little 
 further, over another rough range, through which we could 
 trace the celebrated and romantic Glen-gariff*, was Bantry 
 Bay, and, still further, Cape Clear and the broad Atlantic. 
 
 Towards the east, a long line of broken, barren, heathy 
 hills, rocky dells, and deep ravines. The romantic valley 
 of the Flesk, winding tortuously through this wild and des- 
 olate region, so well described in Lever's O'Donoghue, is 
 distinctly traced — the rounded Paps and Cahirconree on the 
 one side, and Croghon and Keim-an-eigh on the other. In 
 this direction is a scene of wild and confused desolation, 
 such as the eye rarely rests upon, which contrasts forcibly 
 with the beautiful and cultivated vales beyond, and the 
 broad and gently undulating plains on the north. 
 
 What adds greatly to the beauty of this remarkably pic- 
 turesque scenery are the numerous little lakes which be- 
 spangle it like stars in the deep blue firmament of heaven. 
 Scarcely a hut or sign of human habitation meets the eye in 
 all this range. The lone house of " O'Donoghue o' the 
 Glen," and, not far off, the hunting lodge of some nobleman, 
 were pointed out by Sir Richard, and occasionally a few 
 
 10* 
 
114 PICTURESaUE SCENERY. 
 
 wretched cabins, tenanted by a most miserable race, who 
 keep a few goats and till, where they can, a few patches of 
 earth with potatoes, oats or barley. 
 
 I had never dreamed that such a dreary, mountainous 
 district could be found in the Emerald Isle ; never that a 
 landscape so variegated, wild, and picturesque was to be 
 looked for, except in Scotland or Switzerland. The lakes 
 and town of Killarney, the shaded villas, the small and vari- 
 colored fields, the innumerable white thatched huts dotting 
 the broad sweep of cultivated and apparently level land, 
 west and north, which, seen at this distance, look very neat 
 and comfortable ; the floating clouds, which once or twice 
 completely enveloped us in mist — every thing, in fine, con- 
 spired to entrance me with the beauty, splendor, and nov- 
 elty of the scene. 
 
 The view from the top of Mount Washington is more 
 grand, more awfully sublime, but lacks the variety, beauty, 
 and romance of this spot. There we see no crumbling 
 castles, ivyed abbeys, ruined monasteries, unfinished cathe- 
 dral, gray old towers, embowered villas, O'Donoghue le- 
 gends, sportsmens' lodges, shepherds' cots, thatched cabins, 
 Irish wit, and Celtic songs. We have beautiful lakes, 
 though none so sweet and silvery as these scattered all 
 about us. We have narrow defiles, but none more wild, 
 and picturesque, than Glen-garifF, the Pass of Keim-an-eigh, 
 the Gap of Dunloe, or Commedhuv. We have taller moun- 
 tains, and ranges, and spurs shooting off in different direc- 
 tions, but none more bleak and wildly confused than these. 
 Ours mingle not the white, bleached granite, rising, occa- 
 sionally, in perpendicular masses, with the brown heather, 
 purple erica, dark green patches of moor and fen, and 
 glassy lakelets. 
 
 We have more patriotic names, but none so venerable 
 and euphonious as Carran Tual, Cahirconree, Cracmaveel, 
 Finnevagogh, Cruchnabinny, Fortagrisane, GlengarifF, Too- 
 mies, and Cahir Reeks. Ours have a newness and freshness, 
 which, in one sense, charms us. They rise from the midst 
 
A SOBER rHOPGIlT. 115 
 
 of vast forests, vhich climb far up their sides, till dwindled 
 into shrubs and moss ; then come the naked and confused 
 masses of dark rocks. These plant their deeply indented 
 bases on broad fields of rich soil, bedotted with lakes, towns, 
 hamlets, and huts, which latter extend up their shrubless 
 sides as far as space of earth is found to till. 
 
 The remains of centuries are here ; and the mind wanders 
 from the wonderful and sublime in natural scenery, to con- 
 template, in solemn, gloomy silence, the waste and desola- 
 tions of time ; the fearful transitions through which hu- 
 manity passes ; the wrongs, and outrages, and brutality of 
 man towards his brother ; the poverty, ignorance, and de- 
 gradation which revel amid such natural splendor and pro- 
 fuse benevolence ; the excessive jar of human wretched- 
 ness, which grates hatefully upon the ear, where so much 
 poetry mingles in all the works of God ! 
 
 Oh, the curse of oppression ! of kingcraft, and priestcraft, 
 and goldcraft ! How many millions groan in the most ab- 
 ject bondage, to gratify and pamper the few ! What fear- 
 ful judgments await the oppressors of their fellow-men ! the 
 abusers of the world! the disgracers of human nature! 
 Will God hold them guiltless who so disfigure and despoil 
 the richest beauties of His works, and sufTer no feeling of 
 gratitude to glow in yearning kindness for his suffering 
 sons and daughters ? Will he for ever suffer the heel of 
 arrogance and pride to tramp upon the rights, the comforts, 
 and souls of his children ? Shall the thousands starve 
 amid rags and filth, while the few roll in luxury and 
 quaff, without emotion, the sweat and blood of their breth- 
 ren ? Is justice no longer in the earth ? Has benevolence 
 fled in despair to return not, ever ? Is there no mercy — 
 not a ray of hope ? Are the heavens draped in darkness, 
 and the earth an uncared-for battle-field, where wrong tri- 
 umphs, and error bears rule ? 
 
 No ! I cannot believe it ! It is impossible ! Here stand 
 the everlasting hills, there roll the waves of the mighty 
 ocean; and yonder peer out the golden rays of the blessed sun, 
 
116 A LEGEND. 
 
 which encircles the earth and the heavens with his hght 
 and warmth — emblems of Almighty Power and Benevo- 
 lence, which reign omnipotent andmiiversal over all things! 
 Infinite Wisdom is leading individuals and nations by " ways 
 they know not." Adored be His name ; the glory of His 
 great goodness shall be revealed and enjoyed in His time. 
 Let all the nations put their trust in Him. 
 
 THE DESCENT. 
 
 After lingering behind a considerable time, to gaze upon 
 the profuse grandeur of this magnificent landscape, giving 
 free scope to my reflections — for I always loved mountains 
 — I hastened to overtake my companions, who were crossing 
 a narrow and dangerous neck which separates the Devil's 
 Punch Bowl from the Glen of the Horse, in the bottom of 
 which is a small sheet of water, called " O'Donoghue's 
 Horse Pond." From the surface, which is not twenty rods 
 over, the hills rise abruptly — on the south, a perpendicular 
 rock forms the ridge from which we had descended ; on the 
 west, nearly so, and on the north more gradually. On the 
 steep, grassy sides, small flocks of sheep and goats were 
 feeding, and a shepherdess was not far off", watching them. 
 On the east there is a narrow opening, which winds around 
 the foot of one of the Passes, through which runs the Flask 
 and the road from Ballyvourney, by the old ruin of O'Don- 
 oghue castle, to Killarney. It is a wild and lonely spot. 
 From the top of the hills, fifteen hundred feet above the 
 pond, the basin is not half a mile over, and from where we 
 stood, to the Pass, less than two miles. 
 
 Sir Richard related several legends of love and heroism 
 connected with this singularly romantic spot, and pointed 
 out the place where a certain valiant knight, of the feudal 
 time, was chased along the crest of the giddy ridge — the 
 horse making a fearful plunge down the craggy precipice to 
 the bottom of the glen, was instantly crushed to a thousand 
 atoms, while the dashing hero by a masterly spring, clung 
 
SUPERSTITION. 117 
 
 safely upon a projection of the cliff till his pursuing enemy 
 passed by. From this legend came the name of " Horse 
 Glen," by which the locality is now designated. 
 
 Upon the other side of the Bowl, Sir Richard showed us 
 O'Donoghue's wash-basin, soap and towel — a little pond a 
 rod over, and a large flat rock set on one edge and a rounded 
 one near it, which the fancy of this simple people has 
 wrought into such a likeness. A little farther, there is a 
 large flat stone, with rounded edges, leaning upon another, 
 weighing two or three tons. This is O'Donoghue's quoit 
 with which he used to try his hand with the devil after 
 drinking copiously from the Punch Bowl. Close by is the 
 Pulpit, conjured out of a massive stone which stands up by 
 itself. A fracture in one side of it answers for a stairway 
 before which is a fragment upon which to spread the book. 
 Just before the Pulpit is a small rock called the Reading 
 Desk. Here O'Donoghue held his religious services. Far- 
 ther down the mountain is his coffee cup, and Beelzebub's 
 wine-glass. 
 
 The singular contiguity of all this paraphernalia of 
 sport and piety, pulpit and punch bowl, saint and devil, love 
 and lechery, strangely mingled in the legends of the place, as 
 related by Sir Richard, is not without a parallel in the sober 
 realities of later times. Could the abominations of wicked 
 and deceitful men be all made known, what a strange and 
 confused mixture would appear ! But the girls are crowd- 
 ing round us with their mountain dew and goats' milk, and 
 we have no time to moralize. 
 
 It is as much as we can do to resist the importunities of 
 these poor creatures, who begin to fear that, as we drink 
 nothing, they shall receive little pay. 
 
 I was considerably amused to see with what earnestness 
 these women would beset some of our party. The strap- 
 ping girl who could speak scarcely a word of English, was 
 most zealous in her efforts to get rid of her potheen. She 
 treated Sir Richard several times to induce him to use his 
 influence in her behalf, and, as he grew a little mellow, he 
 
118 THE CONTRAST. 
 
 did SO, but in an honorable way, after a few sharp rebukes 
 from the others. As she could not talk our language, he 
 interpreted for her ; but the others were careful to watch 
 all he said. I was spared their annoyance, by telling them 
 I had chosen Mary, and should give her all I had to bestow. 
 Sir Richard seemed offended at this, for a moment, and 
 asked her something, the meaning of which I did not com- 
 prehend. 
 
 I know not what the morals of these people are, but I 
 saw nothing aside from the strictest propriety in all their 
 conduct. They seem to be simple, confiding, and, what 
 is not common in Irish character, unsuspicious of others. 
 On our way down, I had a long conversation with Mary and 
 her cousin, whose brother has been three years in Boston. 
 I was surprised at their general good sense, at the modesty 
 of their manners, and the apparent purity and excellence 
 of their sentiments. They expressed strong emotions, and 
 an active sensitiveness when speaking of their miserable 
 condition and dark prospects ; and kindled with the liveliest 
 enthusiasm when they spoke of going to America. 
 
 I painted the highest scenes of domestic enjoyment 
 among the peasantry of our country, to see what effect it 
 would have on them — spoke of our common schools, which 
 are free to all ; the opportunities to the virtuous and indus- 
 trious for becoming wise and happy ; of the entire absence 
 of grades on account of birth and wealth ; of the intermar- 
 riages between rich and poor, and the many excellences of 
 our social polity. They listenend with the profoundest at- 
 tention, and I marked their thoughts and feelings as clearly 
 expressed in their countenances, when allusion was made to 
 the forlorn condition of their country, the ignorance, vice, and 
 misery which many of them carried to our country. They 
 seemed to feel deeply chagrined when speaking of their lot 
 and sought no justification, but wept when they saw the in- 
 surmountable obstacles which kept them where they were. 
 
 To try the strength of their affections I asked them, as I 
 had done before, if they would like to go to America. The 
 
FILIAL LOVE. 119 
 
 cousin answered without hesitation, that she should, and as 
 soon as her brother sent her money enough, she should go 
 there. Mary sighed and said : 
 
 " Most sure, yer honor ; barrin I could'nt lave my poor 
 mither and the childers behint me," and she wept bitterly. 
 
 " Chare up, Mary dear," said the cousin. " The good 
 Lard may provide the way for ye to goo there yit. Ye do 
 be makin' yerself a silly crayture before the kind gintilmin." 
 
 " Not at all," said I ; " such a mark of filial affection be- 
 comes a good heart. I esteem Mary more highly for this 
 proof of her love to her mother, for no being on earth 
 so much deserves her gratitude and watchful care as her 
 mother in decline or distress. I am glad to know that 
 poverty and suffering have not sundered the tender cords 
 which bind human hearts in the holiest responsibiHties. 
 The cup of misery can be sweetened only by a faithful love, 
 and an unwavering devotion to each other's welfare. It 
 would be cruel for Mary to forsake her aged mother, when 
 she has no other means of support, but her labor." 
 
 The last remark renewed all the bitterness of her grief, 
 from which she had partly recovered by what preceded, and 
 I turned the conversation by expressing the hope that better 
 days awaited them, that they would have more abundant 
 crops, and that a growing sense of justice and human- 
 ity would relieve them from the monstrous burdens by 
 which they were so crushed to earth. This seemed to cheer 
 her up, but when her cousin gayly added ; " Ayeh, an ye'll 
 goo till Amiriky, an yer mither an the childers wi' ye, and 
 there ye'll see these kind gintilmin, an' suffer no moore." 
 All her gi^ef was renewed again ; and she tried to answer 
 by describing the hopelessness of their condition, and the 
 utter impossibility of so desirable an event. 
 
 I never felt my heart so pained before. I never so de- 
 voutly coveted wealth as then. What a grand scheme 
 dashed through my brain, as I transported these millions of 
 poor creatures from this beautiful but doomed land, and set- 
 tled them on the vast prairies of our western country, with 
 
120 A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 
 
 farms and schools, and churches, and men to teach them all 
 branches of industry, all the arts of domestic enjoyment, 
 and the brighter hopes of a more Catholic faith than Rome 
 or England ever taught them. My head twirled at the sud- 
 denness and vastness of the scheme, and I was wrapt in a 
 sort of Swedenborgian ecstasy, till aroused by the sight of 
 my companions who were cantering their ponies over the 
 plain at the foot of the principal descent, followed by the 
 men and boys who had ascended to hold our horses, and 
 beg from us what they could. 
 
 I told the girls I must hasten forward and overtake them, 
 as we were to go over the lakes immediately after a lunch. 
 They wished to know if they should go round to the other 
 side to meet us when we landed there, or whether we de- 
 signed going to the gap of Dunloe and the Reeks, the 
 next day. I told them that to-morrow was Sunday, and 
 asked them if they would go on that day. They said they 
 would go to early mass, and be back in season to accom- 
 pany us on that excursion. I told them we should not go, 
 as it was the custom in our country to observe the Sabbath, 
 though we sometimes traveled short distances on Sunday, 
 when it could not be well avoided. 
 
 By this time we had reached the foot of the principal 
 mountain. I gave Mary a shilling, and her cousin and 
 brother, who had just met us, a sixpence each, for which 
 they expressed the sincerest gratitude, spoke some words 
 of encouragement, bade them adieu, and hastened on to 
 overtake my comrades. 
 
 Several women had come out from the hovels and stood 
 beside the road, some with stockings to sell, others with a 
 cup of milk, one with a deformed child which she held up 
 to excite pity and secure a gift ; two or three were tending 
 the gate which divided the two estates, and all looked rag- 
 ged, wretched, and half starved. 
 
 On reaching the hotel we found all the men and boys in 
 waiting, to receive something for having accompanied us 
 to the mountain. We paid the stipulated price for the 
 
THE SCENE CHANGES. 121 
 
 ponies, including Sir Richard's, but a demand was made for 
 more for catching, saddling and bridling them. We divest- 
 ed ourselves of these starved leeches as best we could, but 
 not to their entire satisfaction ; partook of a hasty lunch and 
 started for the lakes. The hotel keeper has boats and oars- 
 men always in readiness, and under very excellent regula- 
 tion. 
 
 THE LAKES. 
 
 Sir Richard took the helm and directed the expedition, 
 pointing out all the objects of curiosity, relating interesting 
 legends, and describing incidents which had occurred at 
 different times and places. We passed from near the mouth 
 of the Flesk over a part of the lower lake, called Lough 
 Laune, around the peninsula of Muckruss into the middle, or 
 Turk Lake. A narrow strait, over which a bridge has been 
 erected, connects the lakes, which are nearly on a level. 
 
 On our way we were shown O'Donoghue's horse, which 
 he rode when the devil chased him down from Mangerton, 
 after a spree at the Punch Bowl. The likeness is composed 
 of a large soft rock, so fractured and worn away by the mo- 
 tion of the water that, from a certain position, it very much 
 resembles a horse standing up to his knees in the water in a 
 drinking posture. 
 
 We were assured, by undoubted authority, that many of 
 the inhabitants have, time out of mind, believed, as they 
 still do, that this image was actually transformed from a 
 living horse, by demoniac agency, in retaliation for some 
 wrong, real or fancied, received from the O'Donoghue dy- 
 nasty, which, in olden time, swayed a kingl}^ sceptre over 
 this region. These O'Donoghues erected Ross castle, and, 
 in the days of feudalism, lived in great splendor ; but pos- 
 sessing a large share of patriotism, they did not submit wil- 
 lingly to English rule ; for however often beaten, they were 
 among the foremost to rebel, till Ludlow, by order of 
 Cromwell, destroyed their castle, confiscated their lands, 
 
 11 
 
122 LEGENDS. 
 
 and drove the family into the mountains. There, in the 
 deep and romantic " Glen Flesk," they built and fortified 
 another castle, which, for a long time, kept up a show of 
 Baronial magnificence, the ruins of which still bear the 
 family name. 
 
 Passing to the southern shore, in order to enter the mid- 
 dle lake, our boatmen favored us with some fine echoes 
 from a cove in Purple mountain. By peculiar intonations 
 of voice, they could produce a very musical effect, and 
 bring back responses to their questions. This was done in 
 iheir native dialect, which Sir Richard interpreted to us. 
 They also sang us Celtic songs ; the wildness of the music 
 corresponding well with the lofty scenery around us. 
 Some of their airs were peculiarly soft and pleasant. But 
 their national songs partook of what Irish spirit was in more 
 chivalric days. These songs and ballads form almost the 
 only link which connects the present with former genera- 
 tions, and forcibly awaken the lower classes to a sense of 
 their present degradation. They boast of their great an- 
 cestors ; of their deeds of heroic valor ; of their bloody 
 triumphs or glorious deaths, much in the strain of the war- 
 speeches of our Indian tribes ; and, like them, are degene- 
 rate specimens of what they boast of. 
 
 The entrance into the upper lake is by a narrow and rapid 
 channel. The scenery constantly changes as we pass from 
 point to point across the little bays, coves, sinuosities, and 
 by the miniature capes and promontories. Dark clouds 
 enveloped the Toomies and Minister's Back, the crowning 
 peaks of Purple mountain. Mangerton had drawn a thick 
 veil over his face soon after we left it. Occasional dashes 
 of rain had fallen, to our great discomfort. But we kept 
 on, as the solemn grandeur deepened at every step, and was 
 much heightened by this appearance of the heavens, as re- 
 flected on the bosom of the lake. 
 
 We landed on Dinas Island, to see the cottage of Mr. Her- 
 bert, and some large Arbutus trees, which are preserved with 
 great care for the value of the wood, which is wrought into 
 
RURAL BEAUTY. 123 
 
 various kinds of light, fancy articles, that are kept for 
 sale in the town, as rarities peculiar to this region. It is a 
 rare species of indigenous wood, and possesses a beauty 
 little inferior to mahogany. It does not grow in abundance, 
 and hence the great value set upon it. The trees are not 
 large ; at least, we saw none of more than twelve inches in 
 diameter and twenty feet in height, and these were pointed 
 out to us as the best specimens in the neighborhood. 
 
 From Dinas we went to Glena Island, and visited the ro- 
 mantic cottage of Lady K^^nmare, and the grounds about 
 it, which are laid out with much taste, and ornamented 
 with a great variety of trees and shrubs, among which some 
 curious specimens of bald, double, and silver-leafed hollies 
 were shown us. A woman was in attendance, to show us 
 about the premises and receive a shilling. 
 
 Near the cottage is a banqueting hall, where parties are 
 provided with whatever refreshments they please, by giv- 
 ing orders beforehand. It is a place for the display of high 
 life by those who come to visit the lakes, spend their mo- 
 ney, and make a show of liberality. We were invited to 
 leave our orders for a dinner next day, with the promise 
 that every thing should be served to our entire satisfaction. 
 We had no pretensions to the character which displays it- 
 self in such a manner, and under such circumstances. Our 
 republicanism could find more suitable opportunities to ex- 
 ercise its functions. So much misery about us would give a 
 poor relish to a luxurious feast, and we forbore our assent. 
 
 Every thing about the little island is fitted up in a neat 
 and tasteful manner. The elegant furniture is standing in 
 the cottage, though rarely used, never over a few days in 
 the year, as the " noble (?) proprietor" is among the ab- 
 sentees — in London, or on the Continent. Every thing 
 wears the appearance of rural elegance, and, with a good 
 ) conscience, few cares, and general prosperity around, one 
 might be very happv there. But a man's life consisteth 
 not in the abundance which he possesseth. This is not the 
 spot where I should look for genuine happiness. 
 
124 INNISFALLEN. 
 
 Returning from the view of the sublime scenery pre- 
 sented at this point, we passed into the lower lake, and 
 crossed over to the famous island of Innisfallen. This lake, 
 which is the largest of the three, may be four or five miles 
 long, and half that in width. The island contains fifteen 
 or twenty acres. It is fringed with sparse trees and brush. 
 A grass-grown walk extends around it, and across it, in seve- 
 ral directions. Upon one side is a plain banqueting-hall, little 
 used, I should judge, by the appearance of the grass around 
 it. It is constructed from the oratory formerly attached to 
 the ancient abbey, which is now all in ruins, the Norman 
 arches of which attest the date of its erection. This is the 
 place where the " Annals of Innisfallen" were composed, 
 of which a native writer says : " The Annals, written and 
 preserved in the Abbey, are amongst the most prized of 
 our early historical materials ; several copies are still ex- 
 tant ; the original, the first portion of which is written 
 over six hundred, and the continuation over five hundred 
 years, is now preserved in the Bodleian Library. It 
 consists of extracts from the Old Testament : and a com- 
 pendium of universal history, much mutilated, down to the 
 arrival of Saint Patrick, in 432. Thence forward to the 
 end, it treats of the affairs of Ireland, finishing at 1319." 
 " From this situation," says another writer, " variety, 
 beauty of surface, its forest glades, magnificent single trees, 
 and thickets of shrubs, this island is, perhaps, the most in- 
 teresting of the numerous objects which this region of 
 wonder and beauty affords — it is the most delightful of 
 islands, and, like Ross, forms an adjunct to the additional 
 demesne of the noble proprietor." 
 
 Sir Richard conducted us to all parts of the Island, show- 
 ing us the " Bed of Honor," the legend of which he related 
 to us, with many a sage comment and shrewd wink of the 
 eye, to express more than he ventured to tell us. On the 
 shore, opposite, he pointed out the cottage of the beautiful 
 Kate Kearney, so famed in ballad. He took us to a mag- 
 nificent holly ti'ee, growing over some sort of masonry — a 
 
ROSS ISLAND. 125 
 
 tomb, perhaps — the trunk of which is twenty-two feet in 
 circumference, though not more than a dozen high, before 
 it divides into innumerable branches. We also saw an ash, 
 of nearly equal size. What tales could these old trees tell 
 of the scenes enacted about them, many long centuries 
 ago They have been the witnesses of vast changes ! 
 They have seen the feudal lord, the virtual king, rear his 
 proud castles close by, throw down the altars of the wild 
 heathen, and command the Christian devotee to bend as 
 blindly at his devotions before the dictatorial priest, as ever 
 the heathen did. They have heard the loud chant of the 
 choral service go up in the chapel of the old monastery, 
 now in ruins, and grow faint while the mitred bishop led 
 out a long train of robed priests, cowled monks, and hooded 
 nuns, in solemn procession, on some fete day of the church. 
 They have listened to the secret plans, and whispered sus- 
 picions and jealousies of aspiring and crafty Jesuits, and to 
 the sharp rebukes and whining confessions of poor, deluded, 
 half-crazed, and sillv men and women, who told to arrogant 
 and meddlesome priests, thoughts and feelings which be- 
 longed to God and themselves alone. What fearful records 
 have been made against the assumptions and abuse of 
 power m God's name ! Keep silence, ye witnesses of the 
 past, I do beseech you, lest the present generation be made 
 more vile by a knowledge of the intrigues and pious chi- 
 canery of wickeder times. 
 
 Next, we crossed over to Ross Island, passing round the 
 rocky point which juts into the lake a long distance, the 
 edsres of which are chafed out into a thousand fantastic 
 
 o 
 
 forms. Near the spot where we landed, extensive mining 
 operations were formerly carried on, with some success. 
 We landed on a small pier and dismissed our boatmen, 
 who returned with our English companions — who feared 
 the sprinkling rain. We loitered through the charming 
 and romantic grounds of the Earl of Kenmare. 
 
 The whole island, of about one hundred acres, is laid out 
 hito walks and drives, bordered with all sorts of flowers 
 
 11* 
 
126 ROSS CASTLE. 
 
 and shrubbery, and shaded by a great variety of native and 
 exotic trees. Every thing is kept in the most perfect or- 
 der, and displays a degree of taste and extravagance 1 never 
 witnessed before. The surface of the land and the shore 
 are beautifully diversified by nature, and then the hand of 
 art has spared no pains to adorn them in the most elegant 
 manner. In the bottom of a dell is a low vine cottage, 
 completely covered, sides, roofs, columns, every part of it, 
 with a verdure which, at this season, appears remark- 
 ably beautiful. Tall forest trees overhang the rear and 
 sides, and a most delightful flower-garden stretches out 
 in front, ornamented with every variety of vine, shrub, and 
 flower, trained in the most singular and fantastic forms, 
 with moss and shell statuary, and other ornaments inter- 
 spersed. Then an apparently natural forest of trees and 
 underbrush, in wild profusion, from the midst of which, on 
 a gentle eminence, rises the gray, ivy-clad ruin of Ross 
 castle, the ancient home of the renowned O'Donoghues. 
 
 It is a famous pile, and betokens something of its former 
 splendor and magnificence. On the side we approached it, 
 stands the main tower, the keep, or dwelhng part extending 
 out a hundred feet or more on the opposite side. The sides 
 were covered with a matting of thick ivy, of diflerent 
 kinds, as I judged from the color and shape of the leaves. 
 This covering reaches to the top of the walls. It has been 
 recently trimmed away from the windows, so as to show 
 the building to better advantage. The roof and floors are 
 all fallen, but the walls and chimneys are in tolerable pre- 
 servation. A small lawn opens down towards the lake, on 
 the south-west, where is the principal boat-landing, or 
 " port," as our conductress called it. 
 
 A middle-aged woman came at our signal, from the 
 lodge in the rear, and unlocked the gate, an old rickety 
 door which opened into the main tower. We commenced 
 at once, the ascent, by a narrow, winding stairway. The 
 stone steps are greatly worn — more, doubtless, by modern 
 than by ancient feet. The world is more anxious to look 
 
A CHANGE. 127 
 
 and reflect upon the Past, or stare at the Future, than to 
 improve the Present. Round and round, up and up, by 
 narrow windows, and door- ways opening to the large rooms 
 in the main tower, situated one above another, till at last we 
 reach the top, which was thickly grassed over, and shrubs and 
 a yew tree were growing above all. Here we had a grand 
 view of what 1 have described before, except the summits 
 of the reeks, which were shrouded in misty darkness. We 
 looked down into the close, above the top of which we 
 stood, more than fifty feet, and, as the large banqueting 
 hall, all naked and floorless, was pointed out, I thought of 
 the splendid feasts and late carousals of Irish noblemen, 
 once held there ; of the secret plottings and diabolical 
 deeds concocted there ; of the noise, and mirth, and revelry 
 which echoed the life and feeling of proud and joyous 
 hearts ; of the story and the song, which told of heroic ex- 
 ploits of warriors and huntsmen ; of love and rivalry ; of 
 beauty and blandishments; of timorous devotion, daring 
 courage, and broken vows. 
 
 Alas ! what change ! Now all is silent as the hall of 
 death. The ivy climbs stealthily up, like the wily serpent, 
 and plants its fangs in every crevice of the walls. The bat 
 and the lizard make an undisturbed home where splendor 
 rioted, and the crawing rook flies dolefully about, as if be- 
 moaning the desolation of the place. Who can stand here 
 and not feel dizzy in bewilderment at the vast changes time 
 has wrought ? Who can avoid the strange emotions of 
 mingled pity and admiration, of regret and thankfulness, at 
 the strong contrast before him ? Under us is ruin, around 
 us splendor, mixed with the confused noise of 0})pression 
 and beggary, pleading vainly at the door of liberty and af- 
 fluence ; and pride, boasting of the greatness and glory of 
 British authority, justice, and benevolence! But, thank 
 God, over us are the deep blue heavens which encircle the 
 globe ; out from which comes a voice which bids us look 
 upward, and gaze at the Infinite, the Good, and the Just. 
 And we find in our hearts a germ of faith which looks over 
 
128 A BANKRUPT LORD. 
 
 the mutations of earth, the wrongs and insults suffered here, 
 to the clear, the beautiful, and divine ; where no cry is 
 heard ; no tear is shed ; not a sigh escapes ; but love and 
 liberty, the boon of all the redeemed, and a song of praise 
 is warbled from tongues immortal, to the honor and glory 
 of God alone. 
 
 Another shilling, and we started for the town on foot. 
 An excellent road conducts through a continuous plantation 
 of fine large trees and over a long causeway and bridge to 
 the main land, beside which are constructed walks for 
 pedestrians. Near the town stands the plain old mansion 
 of Lord Kenmare, the bankrupt })roprietor of an immense 
 tract of land, divided into pleasure grounds, deer parks, 
 hunting forests, pasture, meadow and tillage lands, tenanted 
 by ten thousand hard-working, miserably clad, and worse- 
 fed human beings. By the sweat and blood of these op- 
 pressed and depressed people, the proprietor and his Shylock 
 agents and underwriters, are enabled to live at their ease in 
 London, Paris, Italy, Switzerland ; any where except in 
 Ireland where they belong, and whence they draw the nutri- 
 ment for their extravagance, and where, of right, it should 
 be distributed again. 
 
 Every thing about the mansion appears comfortable and 
 genteel, though ancient. Lady Kenmare, whose name is 
 always spoken in connexion with the ownership and man- 
 agement of every thing, seems to rule in queenly dignity. 
 She is much more respected than his Lordship, and comes 
 oftener to look at the vast demesnes, and see that the build- 
 ings, gardens, walks, and hedges are kept in order. By the 
 extravagance and profligacy of his youth, the whole property 
 was heavily encumbered years ago ; but, by the laws of 
 England, no part of it can be touched by his creditors, ex- 
 cept the income. This they have taken under their super- 
 vision and allow the " noble proprietor" a fixed amount, 
 —some £7,000 or £8000 (835,000 or $40,000) a-year, to 
 enable him to maintain the dignity of his position as a " no- 
 ble Peer of the Realm." 
 
ENTAIL AND PIIIMOGENITURE. 120 
 
 Such is the rottenness and injustice of the Engh'sh sys- 
 tem of government, that the real estate of a nobleman can 
 not be enfeoffed under any circumstance whatever by the act 
 of a creditor. He may be a miserable, worthless scoundrel, 
 indebted to any amount, but so long as he lives there is 
 his title and property which none but the crown may touch ; 
 and when he dies it goes to his oldest male heir, who may 
 be, if possible, more involved and abandoned than himself; 
 and there it remains secure for the next generation. 
 
 We wonder at this state of things, unused as we are to 
 see such wrong and injustice in our Republic, where the 
 feudal claims of entail and primogeniture are denied, and 
 a perfect equality secured to all. But we should remember 
 that the safety of the British government rests upon this 
 provision. 
 
 At the time of the conquest, the country was divided into 
 immense estates, and given to the most devoted s^'cophants, 
 who w^ere thus constituted the aristocricy — who were invest- 
 ed with the right to govern the nation. The possession of 
 the land was entailed, and made hereditary in the oldest male 
 heir. The younger members of the family were left to shirk 
 for themselves. This condition of things exists under 
 the boasted Constitution of England, and operates every 
 year worse and worse, as the increasing poverty and misery 
 of the people shows. Enterprise is paralyzed by it, and in- 
 dustry starves. Any change, though loudly demanded, is 
 feared, as destructive to the hereditary nobility of the na- 
 tion ; for if creditors could secure the payment of their 
 debts by the partition and sale of these estates, or should 
 they be divided among the different members of the family, 
 the title must soon be lost. Nearly every nobleman has so 
 covered his property with encumbrances that, was justice 
 done, he could not retain a claim to the wretched hovel of 
 his poorest tenant. The nobility, the exchequer, and, for 
 aught I know, the royalty itself, are so deplorably bankrupt 
 that the demands of justice can never be met ; yet the force 
 of habit, the terrors of the government, and various expe- 
 
130 THE VILLAGE OF KILLAPv.VE V. 
 
 dients of cunning men, continue to clieat justice of her 
 claims, and the honest people of their rights, and keep the 
 masses in a condition of most abject vassalage and suffering. 
 But all this only serves to procrastinate and make more ter- 
 rible the certain and fearful retribution which shall over- 
 w^helm this country, sooner or later. 
 
 A crowd of wretched creatures were about the streets, 
 greater than we saw on our arrival. It was Saturday, and 
 had been market-day. Some carts, with asses harnessed 
 to them, were standing about, or passing out of the place. 
 We perambulated the two principal streets, observing, as 
 closely as we could, the condition of the people, the style 
 of their houses, and their manner of Uving. The result was 
 painful in the extreme. Such dens of misery as we saw in 
 some places are only equaled by the lowest grades of the 
 same miserable race who burrow in the filthy purlieus of 
 our cities, and beg from door to door. We were beset 
 by scores of deformed, starved, lame and trembling skele- 
 tons, half covered by patched and tattered garments, who 
 muttered, in under tones, undistinguishable words, as they 
 held out their thin hands, and followed after us from place 
 to place. We were glad to make our retreat as best we 
 could, and so took shelter in the shop of the woman who 
 had offered us her wares of Killarney manufacture. But 
 we did not escape by this manceuver, for, while purchasing 
 a few articles, they swarmed around us despite the em- 
 phatic demonstrations of the shop-keeper, nor did we finally 
 shake them off till we left the town on our return to Clog- 
 hereen. We purchased a few trifles, which were duly let- 
 tered in silver, " Killarney Lakes," with the names we had 
 prescribed, and forwarded to our hotel, a distance of two 
 miles. 
 
 The rival saleswoman who had also called on us, hailed 
 us as we passed her shop, and we could not refuse to go in 
 and look at her wares. With Irish earnestness she reproved 
 us for not giving her the preference, because her articles 
 were so much better. We plead our inability to carry any 
 
LUXURY AND STARVATION. 131 
 
 thing. Her husband ofTered to forward us whatever we 
 might order, to any amount, and free of expense, to Liver- 
 pool or New York, and wait for his pay till we could return 
 it. So much for confidence in "American Securities." 
 The other trader had proposea the same before. Verily, 
 we thought, the Irish are not the most suspicious people on 
 earth, after all, if they will trust strangers and foreigners 
 in this way. We purchased a few trinkets and passed on. 
 The variety and quality of the dishes served for our late 
 dinner, of which we partook in company with our English 
 companions, betokened any thing but the leanness and pov- 
 erty of the land. Every thing was excellent, and served in 
 good style. I mention this fact to show that there are com- 
 forts — luxuries even — to be found in the midst of the misery 
 and starvation of which I have spoken. The higher class 
 live in great splendor. Not many landlords lost their meals, 
 winter before last, while starvation carried off its thousands. 
 But I confess the thought of the extreme wretchedness we 
 had witnessed did not add much to the relish of our meal. 
 Yet the exercise of the day, and the long time we had passed 
 without eating, created an appetite too strong to be mas- 
 tered by sympathy, and in the weakness of poor human na- 
 ture, we indulged a little at the expense of our principles. 
 It is easy to adopt theories, which we find it difficult to 
 practice. Feeling too often controls judgment^ and rules 
 action, despite the dictates of reason and the pleadings of 
 benevolence. Such is man 
 
132 AN EARLY WALK, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A SUNDAY IN IRELAND. 
 
 An Early Walk. — A Grand Scene. — A Lonely Girl. — Character. — Difficul' 
 ties. — A Remedy. — Sir Richard. — Killarney. — A Crowd. — The Church. — 
 A Little Boy. — Leaving. — Bigotry. — A Retrospect. — A Poor Family. — 
 Tralee. — A Scene of Misery.— The Church. — A Walk. — The Chances. 
 
 May 21. — The exceeding weariness of the flesh, the ex- 
 citement of the mind, the lateness, quahty, or quantity of 
 our seven o'clock dinner, so troubled my slumbers that I 
 found little rest of body, last night. So I rose before the 
 sun, performed my " daily ablution," and started out, while 
 the rest were wrapt in unconscious slumbers. I met multi- 
 tudes of the peasantry, going to the town to attend Mass, 
 some of whom had come six or seven miles, from the moun- 
 tain glens, at that early hour. Their personal appearance 
 was but little changed from yesterday, except the men had 
 on clean linen, and most of the women white kerchiefs over 
 their heads. 
 
 I strolled off towards the mountains, on the road to Ken- 
 mare, passed the mansion of Mr. Herbert, the Turk water- 
 fall, and wound round Turk mountain, close by the shores 
 of the middle lake, through a natural forest of firs, and 
 kept along near the stream which issus from the upper lake. 
 The valley is called Derrycunehey, from a very romantic lit- 
 tle waterfall of that name. At every step the scenery changed, 
 becoming more and more wild, secluded, and enchanting. 
 
 At length the upper lake opened to view. My progress 
 was arrested by the majesty and grandeur of the scene, 
 and I stood upon an eminence in the road, and gazed, in 
 the most profound admiration, completely entranced b}^ the 
 beauty and splendor of the view. Behind, I had a view 
 of the lower and middle lakes, the islands, the tower of 
 Ross castle, the town, and fields beyond. On either side 
 arose, close by me, steep mountains, covered with ragged 
 rocks, shrubs, and herbage. Before me, the placid lake, ex- 
 
 I 
 
A SUBLIME VIEW. 133 
 
 tending two or three miles along the narrow valley, and not 
 more than half a mile wide — in some places but a few 
 rods. At the head of this valley opens the famous Gap 
 of Dunloe, on the right, and on the left, the still more wild 
 and striking Commedhuv, or Black Valley. Beyond these 
 are McGillicuddy's Reeks, the highest of which is Carran 
 Tual, whose proud summit was already wreathed with the 
 red rays of the morning sun. The striking combinations 
 of lakes and mountains, fields and forests, rocks and rills, 
 castle and cottages, formed a picture of mingled grandeur 
 beauty, and desolation, such as human eyes rarely look 
 upon. Every thing is unique and surprising. Whatever 
 can delight the vision, and wing the wildest fancy for the 
 strange and beautiful in natural scenery, is here commingled 
 in close proximity and rich profusion. And not merely the 
 profile of the diversified and sublime landscape pleased me, 
 but the varying hues and sounds of that hour completely 
 entranced me. • 
 
 At the bottom of all were the deep blue waters of the 
 lakes, studded with innumerable rocky islets, tufted over 
 with grass, and their jacrged banks fringed with the royal 
 fern, and taller shrubs and trees; the mirror-surface, un- 
 ruffled by a breeze, reflected the shadows of the groves and 
 mountains ; then the dark fir- wood, and native forest trees; 
 the naked rocks and overhanging clifiTs ; the purple heather, 
 climbing up to the top of the highest reeks, around which 
 the sun's red rays were wrapt in a mantle of glory ; the 
 deep, shadowed dells and mountain gorges, down which 
 leaped the foaming rills in numerous cascades ; the white 
 cabins, far out on the plains, among fields of varying forms 
 and hues ; the gray old tow^er of Ross ; the forester's cot- 
 tage, far up the side of the southern hills, with its white 
 pillars, green lawn, scattered shade trees, and gay arbors, 
 backed by the receding hills. 
 
 While orazinc^ on this scene the church bells commenced 
 their chimes, the sounds floating through the solemn still- 
 ness of that quiet hour, far over the plain and lakes, waking 
 
 12 
 
134 nature's temple. 
 
 the mountain and woodland echoes., and dying away like 
 the expiring note of the swan ; the occasional bleating of 
 the lambkins, as they sported along the hill-side, just over 
 the lake, and the twittering of birds amojig the trees, all 
 combined to enrich a scene worthy of the day which com- 
 memorates the triumph of mortality over the gloom and 
 sadness of the grave. Now broke forth the sound of hu- 
 man voices, male and female, growing more and more dis- 
 tinct, till, around a point just beyond me, they commenced 
 a wild, Irish air, whose soft and pathetic melody echoed 
 from the finest chords of my heart, and stirred emotions 
 never experienced before. The wildness, grandeur, sweet- 
 ness, sublimity, and harmony of that scene surpassed all I 
 had ever conceived before. Enhancing all, was the thought 
 that I was alone and a stranger, on the morn of God's holy 
 day — my first Sabbath in a foreign land — standing in his 
 own temple, so bountifully and gorgeously decorated for the 
 pleasure and benefit of man. Fit was it, at such an hour, 
 and amid such associations, to worship Him who dwells 
 not in temples made with hands, but fills immensity with 
 His glorious presence ! Oh ! the bliss of such an hour ! 
 No pen can describe it ! The undevout soul could not feel it ! 
 I stood, wrapt in the devoutest contemplation, till the 
 song suddenly ceased, and two stalwart men, two young 
 women, and a little girl came round the bend of the road 
 near where I was, two yearlings and a pig preceding them, 
 which they were driving into the mountains. They were 
 rudely dressed, but appeared jocund and happy. Each had 
 a budget in hand ; all were barefoot, and the women had 
 no covering for their heads. I walked on with them some 
 distance, but they could not speak a word of English. 
 They turned off by a foot-path, near the head of the upper 
 lake, and went on towards Commedhuv. I kept the road, 
 passed a miniature castle of recent erection, attached to the 
 estate of Lord Kenmare, and ascended from the secluded, 
 mountain-locked valley of Derrycunehey, up the southern 
 barrier of hills, to the Police station — a sort of civil fortifi- 
 
 i 
 
A SERVANT GIRL. 135 
 
 cation — for all over Ireland, in country as well as city, po- 
 licemen are every where to be met, dressed in their sleek, 
 close-buttoned blue coats, with standing collars, ornamented 
 with the number of the station to which they belong, and 
 high-crowned felt hats, the tops covered with glazed leather 
 — generally a trim, good-looking, well-fed, kind-hearted set 
 of indolent fellows, who have no cares nor business of their 
 own, and so look after their neighbors', at the public 
 charge. 
 
 For several miles I walked in company with a young 
 woman, who had come from Killarney that morning, and 
 was going to Kenmare to visit her brother, whom she had not 
 seen in three years, though living within twenty miles of 
 each other. She was dressed in the common style of the 
 peasantry — a dark calico frock, " pinned up," to keep it 
 clear from the road, a white kerchief over her head, tied 
 under her chin, a small, coarse shawl over her shoulders, a 
 bundle in hand, and no shoes on her feet. She was modest 
 and bashful, and did not enter very readily into conversation. 
 But when she learned that I was from America she became 
 more social, and made many inquiries about different per- 
 sons whom she once knew, now living there. She has the 
 most extravagant ideas of the wealth of our country, and 
 the generosity of the people. Her brother, whom she was 
 going to visit, is intending to go to America next year. She 
 wished she could go with him. He had partly promised to 
 take her, but she feared he would not be able. 
 
 She informed me that she worked at service in a family, 
 and received £2 a year, of which she could not save 
 much above her clothing ; and what she did save went to 
 help support her parents. I asked her what they would do 
 if she left them. She thought she could earn enough in 
 America in a year to send and get them, for she had heard 
 that servants had £lO and £l2, ($50 or 860,) a year. 
 When I told her many good girls received £l5, and some 
 even more, she was greatly delightei, and expressed the 
 strongest wish to be able to get there. She said she would 
 
loG DARK PROSPECTS FOR THE POOR. 
 
 not buy another dress, but keep every penny, so as to go 
 with her brother, if possible. She would submit to any 
 amount of work, if she could only get from Ireland with 
 her parents, and live in America. And she spoke of it 
 with all the earnestness and confidence of one who is going 
 from misfortune and adversity into circumstances of ease 
 and affluence. 
 
 Poor girl ! I fear she is doomed to disappointment ! The 
 land which, in her young and ardent soul, she has pictured 
 so vividly with all that heart can wish, or wealth and free- 
 dom bestow, will be found, in many respects, to come far 
 short of her expectations. But she can not suffer by the 
 change. She can not be denied more of the comforts of 
 life than now; nor can her prospects be half so dubious. 
 I gave her what advice I thought needful ; directing her to 
 seek out a good family, when arrived in America, prove 
 herself faithful, try to serve them in the best manner, for- 
 get the habits and notions of the country left behind her, 
 possess herself of what information she could, and so lay 
 the foundation for a useful, respectable, and happy life. I 
 gave her my address by her request, which she received 
 with many thanks, saying she should keep it, and if I had 
 no servant in my family she should be most happy to serve 
 me. 
 
 On my way back, I could not banish her, and those in 
 like condition, from my thoughts. Here are thousands 
 and millions of human beings — our Father's children — my 
 brothers and sisters — suffering under circumstances the 
 most oppressive and intolerable. A few months ago, mul- 
 titudes perished of hunger ; and now not half are properly 
 fed with the plainest food. They are doomed to the most 
 abject servitude by the workings of a system of wrong 
 from which there is no escape, but by expatriating them- 
 selves to seek an asylum in a foreign country. Fortunately 
 they have no homes, no loved domestic hearths to leave 
 behind. They hate their miserable cabins, and the lords 
 who oppress them. There is not left a link to attach them 
 
IMPROVEMENT OF CONDITION. 137 
 
 to their native shores. They flee like captives escaped 
 from cruel bondage, cheered by the fancied prospect be- 
 fore them, of comfort and competence. Alas, that they 
 should so soon awake, in the dark, dirty lanes and base- 
 ments of our cities, to the sorest disappointment ! 
 
 And yet it is not all disappointment to them. They do 
 not act and live like our native citizens. They deny them- 
 selves the means of what we call a decent livelihood. But 
 to them, compared with their condition here, the change is 
 greatly in their favor. It is to be deeply deplored that emi- 
 grants are not better qualified to enter on a course of pro- 
 cedure more certain of securing a comfortable living, and 
 making them good citizens. But they are not, and there is 
 little prospect they ever will be. It is the choice of evils. 
 Shall they stay here and starve, or go to our land and wade 
 out of their ignorance and misery ? They choose the latter, 
 and the dictates of a common humanity should make us 
 willing to receive them — as they are — and help them what 
 we can, in the many ways offered by the advantages of a 
 new and growing country. Our free schools can educate 
 their children, our canals and railroads give work to their 
 working men ; our unsettled prairies produces bread and 
 meat for their mouths, our cotton plantations and sheep 
 pastures, clothing for their backs. 
 
 But they must learn to help themselves and us. They 
 must abjure their clannishness, repudiate their bigotry, and 
 be willing to conform, like good citizens, to the requisitions 
 of our free, liberal, and equitable institutions. They can 
 not {xo all this without being taught. In vain is it to blame 
 them, reproach them, or cast them off. How many a poor 
 servant girl has pined in sadness, till completely discouraged, 
 on account of the harsh treatment of those who should 
 have taken some pains to instruct the poor creatures in the 
 rudiments of our domestic affairs. They have had no 
 means of knowing. The first letters in the alphabet of com- 
 fortable living look strange and unfamiliar to them, and it is 
 too much to expect they will be able to manage every thing 
 
 12* 
 
138 IRISH TALENT. 
 
 exactly to another's liking. How can they cook our meats, 
 and make our pies and puddings when they have lived all 
 their days on " praties'* or oat-meal stir-a-bout, and occa- 
 sionally a little milk — not tasting of bread once a month, 
 nor meat twice a year ? How can they scrub, sweep, and 
 dust our parlors, when they have always lived in a single 
 room without floor or furniture ? How can they feel full 
 confidence in their new employers when so long accus- 
 tomed to oppression, abuse, and contempt ? 
 
 I marvel that the Irish are able to do so well as they do. 
 They have need to be taught ; and they are not the most 
 untractable creatures on earth, when once w^e have their 
 confidence ; neither are they all treachery and deceit. 
 They have many good qualities, which patience and atten- 
 tion, mixed with kindness and forbearance, will bring out in 
 due time. They are not dumb ; but have wit and talents, 
 which, under a genial cultivation, will elevate them many, 
 degrees above what they are, and rapidly, in the scale of 
 social and moral excellence and usefulness, and make them 
 respectable citizens of our great Republic. 
 
 I do not rate them too high. I have seen the depth of their 
 degradation. I know the accusations charged against them. 
 My soul has been made sad, by a knowledge of their true 
 characters. I have v/ept over their low estate. But for 
 all this, I believe the Irish may be redeemed, and elevated. 
 From their ranks have risen some of the highest ornaments 
 of the present or past generations. Their orators have 
 swayed senates, convinced juries, and moved multitudes 
 equal to any in the three kingdoms. Their speeches abound 
 with as many fa,cts, as sound arguments, as brilliant meta- 
 phors, as smooth periods, as can be found in the language. 
 They have had statesmen, jurists, generals ; poets, priests, 
 and patriots ; artists, historians, and philosophers who have 
 done credit to humanity. And they have exhibited a spirit 
 of long-suffering and patient endurance under oppression 
 and diflficulty which do honor to the Christian name and 
 profession. 
 
VAIN ATTEMPT? AT REFORM. 139 
 
 Ignorant, bigoted, and debased as they may be, they are 
 not all depravity — not sinners above all people. They have 
 hearts which sometimes beat heavily, throbbing with the 
 deep pulsations of a living, but crushed humanity. They 
 often writhe in bitter agony under the monsirous burdens 
 of an inexorable necessity, which has been accumulating 
 for centuries, till the last link has been fastened, and the 
 chain of their misery and infamy is complete. They have 
 no ability to rise and redress their wrongs ; no means of 
 concentrating what power is left them. They are poor, 
 degraded in their own eyes, and suspicious of one another. 
 They have strong local feelings, adhering to their clan like 
 the wolf to her lair ; and, worst of all, their religious pre- 
 judices will not yield to the force of argument, the plead- 
 ings of humanity, or the voice of God, unless it comes to 
 them by the mouth of a priest, in a hne of direct succes- 
 sion. 
 
 I pity them, but I see no hope for them ; not a ray which 
 betokens the coming of a better day for their nation. 
 Great things are reported of Repeal and Revolution. But 
 it is all in vain. Ireland can not be free. It would not long 
 remain so if it was. The elements of national existence 
 and prosperity are not in them. They wish well, but how 
 to perform they know not. They have indistinct glimmer- 
 ings of a better state, and their O'Briens, and O'Connels, 
 and Mitchells, and Meaghers, startle the monotony of their 
 supineness and misery like the jerkings of a galvanized body. 
 They open their eyes only to look upon the ghastliness of 
 their political, social, and moral death — to contemplate with 
 horror the festering corruption of the charnel they live in, 
 which but for their wrongs, would be the gem of earth, the 
 palace of the nations. 
 
 Oh dark, mysterious Providence ! Thy ways are incom- 
 prehensible! A whole nation groans in misery, and no 
 hope is left them but in self-banishment ! They must for- 
 swear this beautiful land of their birth, which denies them 
 a precarious living, and seek an asylum on another conti- 
 
140 A GENERAL REPROACH. 
 
 nent ! Oh, tyrant power ! Are there no Umits to thy base- 
 ness, no deed too dark and damnable for thee to perpetrate "^ 
 Wilt thou revel in pride and luxury for ever, and leave thy 
 millions to toil in ignorance, corrupt in vice, and starve in 
 famine ? 
 
 What a spectacle is here ! What a burlesque on civili- 
 zation, freedom, Christianity — words familiar to English 
 ears, and most frequent in the vocabulary of her states- 
 men. The canvas of her navy is spread in every harbor; 
 her armies conquer in battle; the Indies tremble at the roar 
 of her cannon ; her exchequer regulates the finances, her 
 merchants the commerce, her manufactures the products, of 
 the world ; on her " empire the sun never sets." 
 
 Such is her boasting ; and yet in the same breath her 
 statesmen say she can do nothing to prevent or relieve the 
 distresses of Ireland ; to lighten her burdens, to recompence 
 her toil, to remove her ignorance, or dispel her gloom? 
 Shame on the wisdom and philanthropy of such a nation ! 
 
 But to England belongs not this reproach alone. It falls 
 alike upon all. We feel it at home, in our three millions 
 of slaves — God's image reduced to goods and chatties, and 
 traded for in the mart like so many sheep ! Horror! where 
 is thy dagger? Nay, we see it in our northern states, in the 
 multitudes cooped up in narrow garrets, called out by the 
 ring of the bell to toil fourteen weary hours in heated rooms ; 
 to live upon scanty fare, or pine away, when banks are tight 
 and markets dull, on the very brink of starvation ; while 
 the sons and daughters of cotton lords grow up in indolent 
 luxury, proud and arrogant in their positions. 
 
 But, thank the Lord, not there as here, is there an entail- 
 ment of these evils by hereditary properties, hedged about 
 with barriers which can not be passed. With us there is 
 a chance to rise, and they who are our w^orkers — our arti- 
 sans and yeomen, to-day, may be our guides and rulers to- 
 morrow. Englishmen laugh at this idea, but her millions 
 at home, and in Ireland and Scotland, weep in despair for 
 lack of it. The monstrous injustice of entail and primo- 
 
RETURN. 
 
 141 
 
 geniture to keep up rank — the feudal claims ot tiie nobility 
 
 are the direct and principal cause of all the crime and 
 
 misery of these masses. 
 
 The first reform that Ireland needs is the breaking up of 
 these 'mmense estates, to pay off, by the actual transfer of 
 landed property, the vast debts of these bankrupt landlords. 
 All others are vain and worthless without it. If the poor 
 could not buy a single acre, a class of men would do so for 
 the investment in property which could not fail to yield a 
 handsome income. And their interest would become 
 blended with the prosperity of their tenants, to some 
 extent, greater than now, and thus would be found a 
 partial, but not a radical cure of the evils which have 
 fallen upon this people. Other reforms would follow, and 
 Ireland would become a united, prosperous, and happy na- 
 tion, the right arm of England, and loyal to a fault.^ 
 
 Such were some of the reflections which occupied my 
 thoughts, as I returned from the summit of the hill com- 
 manding an extensive view to the south, over Glengarift 
 and Bantry Bay, and from which the road descends into a 
 deep valley towards the village and bay of Kenmare, to 
 Skibbereen and the rough promontories about Cape Clear. 
 I had ample time for many comments ; for, unconscious of 
 the distance, I had wandered some eight or ten miles from 
 our hotel, and now found myself so wearied, that I was 
 obliged to sit down several times upon a wayside rock to 
 rest my wearied limbs. 
 
 The scene had greatly changed. The sun was risen 
 high, and, through a thin mist which hung about the reeks, 
 the rays were so reflected as to produce a beautiful ram- 
 bow, which seemed to be painted upon the dark side of 
 Purple mountain, with one foot resting in the narrow dell 
 of the Gap of Dunloe. The appearance was novel and 
 exceedingly beautiful. In fact, every thing about this 
 rousrh and secluded glen is wild, diversified, and singularly 
 pictm-esque. Not least among the attractions of that houi-, 
 was the death-like stillness that prevailed. The music of 
 
142 DEPARTURE. 
 
 birds had ceased ; the bleating of lambs I heai'd no more , 
 and the echoing strains of the distant church-bell had died 
 away. Not the murmur of a breeze disturbed a single 
 leaf. Nothing but the pattering of the little rills, as they 
 leaped down the ragged rocks which overhang the road, 
 and the resounding of a distant cascade, mingled with the 
 rumbling of my own footsteps as I passed over the under- 
 ground ledges, which, in childhood, we called the " hollow 
 ground," afirighted me. In one place, the road passes 
 through a tunneled rock several rods, and, in another, over 
 a high bridge, which spans a deep gorge from the mountain. 
 In the whole distance the road passed but one or two huts, 
 and the new tow^er of Lady Kenmare. Nothing relieves 
 the solitude of this glen, but every thing is wrought out in 
 a varied and romantic grandeur which never tires. 
 
 I trudged on, and, at half past ten o'clock, reached 
 the Muckruss hotel, to the great comfort of my com- 
 panions, who were becoming alarmed for my safety, not 
 knowing whither I had gone. The cottiers had returned 
 from mass, and several were in waiting to serve us. Sir 
 Richard was on hand, ready to conduct us whithersoever 
 it should please us to go — to the Eagle's Nest, Commedhuv, 
 the Gap of Dunloe, or any where else. And Mary, attired 
 in her Sunday suit, improved most by a smooth, white ker- 
 chief over her head, and still barefoot, stood modestly by 
 the corner of the road, with her mug of milk, covered by 
 her clean apron. One or two others, more bold, came to 
 the courtyard of the hotel, and stood among the men, near 
 the gate. All looked sad when they learned that we should 
 take no more rambles ; but, after church in the town, go on 
 to Tralee. 
 
 After breakfasting, as about to mount the car which was 
 to take us away, many of the people commenced the most 
 importunate beggary, entreating us, in the name of God 
 and by the hopes of eternity, to bestow something upon 
 them. Saddest in the group, stood Sir Richard Courtenay. 
 He looked the picture of despair. His spirit had failed him. 
 
DISHEARTENING. 143 
 
 His hopes were fled. His fair prospects ot several days* 
 employment were all destroyed. He could scarcely speak. 
 He had supposed we were to imitate those who come 
 and linger here for weeks — Mrs. Hall, and others, whose 
 excellencies he praised very highly. And, as our benefac- 
 tions had been rather liberal so far, he expected to reap a 
 good harvest from men who had come so far to see the 
 beauties of Killarney, and who entered so deeply into the 
 wants and sympathies of the people. These expectations 
 were all suddenly demolished, and he could not see where 
 others would be awakened, as the troblous times keep 
 every body at home. 
 
 And Mary felt bad. Another cloud had darkened her 
 prospects of getting to America. Perhaps she thought we 
 were ungenerous, that we could give her a few pounds as 
 well as not — people often think so of those they count 
 rich. But she did not beg nor murmur. It was plain, 
 however, that she felt sad under her disappointment ; that 
 her heart, which grew light at the encouraging prospect 1 
 presented yesterday for her getting away from her wretch- 
 edness with her mother, was again heavy as lead. Her 
 voice trembled ; her eyes gathered tears ; her whole coun- 
 tenance was sad. I gave her a paltry sixpence, and felt 
 condemned when I did it, for I appreciated the force of the 
 strange inequality which prevails among men. Was it 
 brotherly in me to give so meanly, to one so worthy and 
 miserable ? But there were many others in as low condi- 
 tion. I could not give even a sixpence to each, and reserve 
 enough to return home by the most direct route. And so 
 I justified myself with the reflection that " discretion is the 
 better part" — of charity as well as valor. We distributed 
 some pennies, which only whetted the beggarly appetites 
 of these impoverished creatures, and made them more 
 rampant in their entreaties. We did not get rid of them 
 till we bade adieu, and our car drove ofl* at a rapid rate. 
 
 These were but the initiatory scenes — the prelude to the 
 grand dramas of human misery and degradation, I will not 
 
144 SUB3IISSI0N UNDER WRONGS. 
 
 say depravity, which were yet to be enacted before us. 
 These people are not so depraved as they might be ; not so 
 much so as their wretched condition would seem to indicate 
 — almost to justify, in the scale of worldly reckoning, I 
 wonder they are so forbearing, so indulgent towards their 
 oppressors as they are. It is because oppression and suffer- 
 ing crush the spirit, and make a man despise himself. In 
 other times, and in other lands, there would be no safety 
 for the haughty, domineering nobility, who live in splen- 
 dor among these starving millions. I am surprised to see 
 the extremes of wealth and poverty, pride and misery, 
 knowledge and ignorance, arrogance and degradation, 
 dwelling in such close proximity, and so much peace abid- 
 ing the unholy mixture. It is, doubtless, well it is so, for 
 rebellion, anarchy, and vengeance are always to be de- 
 plored. They are the worst, the unsafest means to redress 
 a wrong, overcome an injury, or gain a right. They but 
 enhance the evil they vainly seek to correct. It is the 
 gradual warmth of spring that melts the snow, and awakens 
 vegetation into life and beauty. 
 
 All was peace, and quiet, and beauty, from Cloghereen to 
 Killarney. The whole distance is a continual succession 
 of elegant mansions, charming pleasure-grounds, and rich 
 fields in the highest state of cultivation, all of which ap- 
 peared to great advantage on this calm and delightful spring 
 Sabbath-day. The entrance to the town, by a long wind- 
 ing avenue of stately shade trees, whose venerable branches 
 interlock over the road, is remarkably beautiful, and the 
 first appearance of the houses at that end of the main 
 street is not bad. They were originally built with some 
 respect to order and comtoit. But as we advance into the 
 central and farther part, the scene changes and every thing 
 bears the marks of penury, filth, and indolence. 
 
 We drove to some sort of hotel, near the post house, 
 where we were beset by several men to go to this place or 
 to that, and by ragged boys and girls to give them a " ha'- 
 penny." The men supposed we had just arrived in town, 
 
 :l 
 
A RETURNED EMIGRANT. 145 
 
 and as we had stopped at neither the King's Arms, or Ken- 
 mare Arms, nor gone to the Victoria, we were, therefore, 
 lawful plunder for any of the smaller inns and boarding 
 houses. A regular row was created among the crowd, of 
 which we were the innocent cause. 
 
 Two men came to blows, but were soon separated by the 
 interference of the police. Each contended that his house 
 was the most respectable, but found it difficult to sustain his 
 claim, because, as is most common in all similar cases, there 
 was no great respectability to either. One of the rival 
 combatants had lived in America, and therefore claimed to 
 have a great affection for us, and a right to our patronage. 
 He was willing to do us any service in his way, if we would 
 " put up" at his house, and would be especially careful to 
 keep us from being imposed upon by his countrymen. The 
 other asserted, and many voices sustained the opinion, that 
 he kept a low, drinking and gambling house, and that no " da- 
 cent gintilmin" would disgrace himself, by visiting it. The 
 appearance of the returned tavern-keeper was unfavorable 
 to his honesty, and we remembered that his class at home 
 were not necessarily well educated in the morals of good 
 hotel-keeping, though he was exceedingly boisterous in his 
 praises of our country and countrymen. We wondered he 
 did not stay there, and the fellows about us denounced 
 him because he did not, saying he had come back to " chate 
 his poour coounthrymin, when he might a betther staid till 
 Amiriky an soo left room for others." Another, said "his 
 coonduct was soo bad he could not sthay there, they'd not 
 kape him." They at once took it that we were against him, 
 and so they run him hard, applying all sorts of harsh lan- 
 guage, and Irish epithets we did not understand. This he 
 could not endure, but became most furious, and defied any 
 of them to fight him. We were never so violently beset 
 before, nor so nearly connected with a disturbance of the 
 peace. A hundred men and boys were gathered about us 
 before we had time to consider where we were. We final- 
 ly crowded through the mass and deposited our sacks and 
 
 13 
 
146 A GROLP OF MISERY. 
 
 secured our seats to Tralee, in the mail car, which was to 
 leave at two o'clock. The crowd followed us wherever we 
 went. We could not return to the Episcopal church, and 
 so edged our way across the street, to find a refuge in the 
 Catholic chapel, the gate- way of which was guarded by the 
 proper officers. 
 
 The old edifice stands back from the street, leaving an 
 open court with the buildings of the convent on one side. 
 The passage way was lined with the most miserable and 
 loathsome set of creatures ever beheld. Immediately inside 
 the gate there were three men stationed, who were busy 
 collecting pennies in boxes, which they held out to all 
 that passed. When a quantity was collected, they emptied 
 them into a large chest standing close by them. 
 
 Every phase of human misery was represented there — the 
 decrepitude of tremulous dotage, the pale and haggard look 
 of recent and severe sickness, the vacant stare of incurable 
 idiocy, the pitiful moan of sickly and famishing childhood, 
 the crutch of cripples, the gloom of blindness, the loath- 
 someness of deformity and destitution. A darker picture 
 of complete wretchedness could not be presented to mortal 
 eyes. I was overwhelmed to see such a mass collected in 
 one spot. It was not without a strong effort I could nerve 
 myself sufficiently to contemplate it. I felt an involuntary 
 shudder come over me, and, at first, I shrunk from passing 
 through it. I have read the imaginary descriptions of 
 misery the most odious and profound ; but here was the 
 tangible reality — the very centre of it — in sober earnest- 
 ness, huddled close about me, and vastly more odious than 
 any pen ever delineated. 
 
 Some were seated, counting their beads, and muttering 
 their prayers. One old woman, doubled together, was 
 smoking a short pipe, apparently as old as herself; another 
 was lighting hers. All had little tin cups which they reached 
 out to us as we passed by, with an invocation to God to be- 
 stow blessings upon us. Their cadaverous visages, snarled 
 hair, shriveled trembling hands, patched and ragged clothing, 
 
THE CHAPEL. 147 
 
 bespoke a degree of destitution and misery which defies 
 description. Little children, in tattered, filthy garnaents, not 
 half covering their nakedness, were playing behind them, 
 their hands and faces looked as if their parents were unbe- 
 lievers in the virtues of cold water. Men and women were 
 standing about in groups, talking idly, and others were 
 passing in and out, dipping their fingers into tlie little tin 
 cups held out to them by several girls who appeared to be 
 stationed there for the purpose, and crossing themselves 
 with the " holy water" contained in them. 
 
 The chapel is an old stone building, looking, outside and 
 in, as forlorn as the people collected in and about it. The 
 ceiling is low, and the wide galleries just high enough to 
 clear one's head. The sides are hung about with pictures 
 of the most ordinary execution, representing sacred sub- 
 jects and legends of the Irish church. There is an attempt 
 at display about the altar in the way of paint and tinsel, 
 but the appearance is exceedingly untasteful and inappro- 
 priate. A dense mass of people, of both sexes, and all ages, 
 were huddled together, standing or kneeling on the coarse 
 stone pavement, each carrying on his devotions by him- 
 self, by prayers, confessions, and crosses, while priests were 
 performing at the altar. The crowd was so great we could 
 not penetrate far into the church, not sufficiently to hear 
 what was going on. 
 
 In the gallery, which is seated, I saw several people who 
 were genteelly dressed. I was told those seats were re- 
 served for the better class of worshippers. As I looked at 
 them, and observed their inattention to the passing services, 
 I wondered if, in fact, they were really any better, an}'' 
 more religious, than those kneeling on the stone floor. It 
 was a difficult question. God knows the hearts of men, 
 and discerns the motives which regulate conduct. In His 
 eyes the ranks of earth are nothing. He requires all and 
 each to act according to capacity and means, holding 
 each responsible for what he has, and not for what he has 
 not ; and measuring His rewards and punishments with 
 
148 INEFFICIENT SYSTEMS. 
 
 equal justice to ail. No proud position, nor feigned humil- 
 ity can shield them from His scrutiny, neither can poverty 
 or oppression justify the other in wrong. All stand alike 
 accountable to Him for the improvement of the talents en- 
 trusted to their keeping. There is no excuse for any. 
 
 But I marveled that a system of religion w^hich claims 
 such high sanctions — direct and immaculate authority, has 
 done so little to establish the " kingdom of God " on earth. 
 Certainly, this that I now see is not the kingdom of heaven, 
 or else 1 have conceived very erroneous ideas of the nature 
 of that kingdom. Here has not been performed the work 
 of levelling the mountains and hills, filling the valleys, mak- 
 ing the crooked ways straight and the rough places smooth. 
 Here is no " highway of the Lord " for the redeemed to 
 return and come to Zion ; but all the odious features of 
 worldly pride and distinction, of want and wickedness. 
 1 have seen all this diversity at home ; and I looked for the 
 fruits of a religion which claims all precedence — direct 
 succession, apostolic authority — and I have been anxious to 
 know if it is really more effective in the work of human 
 redemption, in ameliorating the condition of those who 
 adopted it. It has had centuries for the experiment — ^long 
 years undisturbed in the exercise of its prerogatives. Alas, 
 for the results ! Do such fruits betoken the purity and ho- 
 liness of the true faith ? " By their fruits ye shall know 
 them." 
 
 The mail car had arrived, and was standing in the street. 
 As we returned from the church, the crowd gathered 
 around us, as clamorous in their beggary as before. We 
 procured our sacks, placed them in the " well " of the 
 car and took our seats. When the multitude found us 
 about to leave, a large portion left us. But several hung 
 about, with some of whom we entered into conversation. 
 Among the number was a little lad, it might be, fifteen 
 years old, who particularly attracted my attention. He 
 was well formed, and, phrenologically speaking, had a fine 
 head — large, broad, hiyh, and everv wav well balanced. 
 
A FINE LAD. 149 
 
 His features were uncommonly fine, sparkling with intelli- 
 gence and beauty. His dress was poor, but decent. The 
 patches were all sewed tight ; there were no rags dangling 
 about. His shirt was clean, as was common with all, and 
 so were his hands, and face, and feet. He seemed anxious 
 to inquire about our country, and I indulged him with my 
 chief attention. He expressed a strong desire to go there, 
 but saw no means by which he could do so. To try him, 
 I asked him if he would go with me. 
 
 " Ayeh, yer honor, and serve ye wi' all my soul." 
 
 He spoke very good English, but tinged with the Kerry 
 accent, just enough to make it exceedingly pleasing. 
 
 " Will you go with me now — get right on the car and 
 start off immediately ? for I am going, you see." 
 
 " Yes, sir ! an' I will run an' tell my sister, and come 
 right back as fast as I can ;" and he started. 
 
 I called him back, telling him I could not take him, as I 
 was going to other countries before I returned ; and I 
 needed further recommendations that he was a good boy. 
 
 Many voices answered, saying, " James Mahanna is a 
 fine boy, an' ivery body likes him." Even his young com- 
 panions, who showed some marks of envy at my partiality 
 for him, after rejecting their offers to go home with me, de- 
 clared he was the best among them. 
 
 I inquired of him what he could do, and how long he 
 would live with me. He said he would do any thing he 
 could, and live with me as long as I wished, if I would 
 clothe him and give him enough to eat. He said he could 
 read and write a little, but, since his parents died, he had 
 not been at school much, as he could not pay the tuition, 
 and it was all his sisters could do to support themselves. 
 
 I asked him if he could work. He said he could when 
 he could get any thing to do, and that was not often, as 
 there were so many more who were always looking out 
 for jobs. Several by-standers assured me he was a very 
 faithful boy. One of his sisters worked from home, he tolcj 
 
 13* 
 
150 A DOUBTFUL PROSPECT. 
 
 me, for £2 a-year ; and the other did what she could in the 
 town. One was twenty, the other eighteen. 
 
 " An' very cUver gearls they are," said a middle-aged 
 man, who till then had not spoken, though he had observed 
 closely all that had been said ; " an' it's the kind thing 
 yer honor'U do, an' he takes the young lad till Amiriky. 
 It's a smaart man he'll be afther makin', it is, an' ye geve 
 him a chance." 
 
 The boy looked pleased at receiving such a direct re- 
 commendation ; for the man who had s})oken seemed to 
 share largely the confidence of those about him. An other, 
 coming nearer to me, said, " It is soo, yer honor. Misther 
 O'Donnelly has said thruly, an' ye may bleve ivery word 
 uv it. Ye may, an sure Jam is a good boy, an'll do all yer 
 honor likes of him." 
 
 Several others attested to the good character of the lad, 
 and all seemed glad at the good fortune which seemed to 
 await him. There is scarcely a man or boy, or young 
 woman in the country, among the common people, who 
 would not esteem it great good fortune, almost a mark of 
 a special Providence, to be offered an opportunity to go to 
 America under such circumstances as these. 
 
 My heart was pained to think the hopes which had been 
 awakened, the brightest, probably, he ever had, must be so 
 soon disappointed. I am not quite sure I did right, but I 
 could not find it in my heart to blast them all at once Per- 
 haps I did wrong to say so much ; but it was no more than 
 what every body is talking about, but many dare not hope 
 for. I took the name of the lad, and promised, if I found 
 it convenient — what a miserable excuse — I would send for 
 him in season to meet me at Liverpool, so as to return with 
 me. He was delighted with the idea, and wanted to know 
 if I would not also take his sisters, to work at service in 
 my family. This I thought I might as well encourage, and 
 so told him if I sent for one I would send for all. 
 
 " An good servants ye'll have," said the former speaker. 
 
MORAL DEPRESSION. 151 
 
 ** Betther can't be foound in all the kingdom — I know them 
 weel-a-bit these many yares." 
 
 " Tis the same I'd like to spake yer honor ov um. It's 
 joost over the strate from them I live. Sorra a comfort 
 have the darlints had since the good Lord took their blissid 
 mither up to heaven. 'Tis wishin some kind gintilmin, like 
 yerself, would take these poour childers till Amiriky, I've bin 
 these many days. The blissid mither'll sure remember ye." 
 
 Much more was said to the same purpose, for, when these 
 Irishmen start on a course there is no end to the race. 
 They are most extravagant in their praise or condemna- 
 tion, and neither is willing to be outdone. I was surprised 
 to admiration at the interest manifested in behalf of the lad, 
 who, 1 have no doubt, deserved all the encomiums bestowed 
 upon him. But it is not often that we see such proofs of 
 disinterestedness among the Irish. Necessity has forced 
 them into the narrowest selfishness, though- naturally they 
 have generous hearts — for their immediate friends, at least, 
 and lofty ideas of personal distinction. But how can people, 
 so oppressed, and starved, and ignorant, and superstitious as 
 they are, cultivate the higher virtues, the loftier sentiments, 
 the nobler qualities of human nature, or even keep them- 
 selves, under such untoward circumstances, from depravity 
 and shame. It is a marvel that the Irish are no worse than 
 we find them ; that they are not more fierce and cruel than 
 the savages of the wilderness, for they are not without 
 provocation. Christianity, disguised and disfigured as it is, 
 has a powerfully restraining influence over them, and keeps 
 them back in so many cases, from the grosser crimes of 
 vengeance. They have learned much of long-sufl^ering, 
 and patient endurance in the schools of experience, under 
 whose severe discipline they have been writhing for cen- 
 turies. The ministers of religion have taught them " to ab- 
 dicate all ric^ht and title to their own will — to their actions. 
 — nay to their own thoughts — to be no longer their own 
 masters, but in perpetual obedience" to others. They 
 >^'>ve learned their lessons too well, as their deplorable con- 
 
152 UNDUE INFLUENCE. 
 
 dition testifies to all, wherever they go. They have lost 
 that manliness, that self-rehance, and immediate dependence 
 upon God, which looks above the wrongs and outrages of the 
 world, and seeks in Heaven's name to over-master them. 
 The command of a supposed superior has become to them 
 the will of God, and so they tamely submit to the wrongs 
 and burdens piled upon them ; till, at last, the hope of a de- 
 liverance has vanished, and despair and beggary have taken 
 its place. 
 
 The effect of Romanism has been, and always will be, to 
 produce the most abject subserviency, wherever its control 
 is unresisted. It demands, as cited above, the annihilation 
 of all individualism, and an entire submission to the will of 
 another whom it acknowledges as master. Through the 
 accepted superior, the command of God comes to them ; and 
 they become the supple tools in the hands of the skillful 
 and designing, to work out the problems of pride and oppres- 
 sion. 
 
 And every other system which fetters the liberty of the 
 will, enslaves the conscience, or binds down the soul by 
 forms of faith, or rules of practice, by mere authority, other 
 than the force of truth and the conviction of right, becomes 
 the tyrant by usurping what belongs to God alone ; no mat- 
 ter if assent has once been given, seriously or thoughtless- 
 ly. When convinced by further developments, of the form- 
 er wrong, the reserved right which God holds in his own 
 hands and delegates not to another, is resumed, and His 
 authority appealed to. Study, reflection, patient investiga- 
 tion, prayerfully pursued, may lead to new discoveries of 
 truth, which nothing but the grossest bigotry would prevent 
 one from adopting. 
 
 It is a most daring assumption for any man, or set of 
 men, to pretend to apprehend all truth — to possess the right 
 to set up barriers beyond which another may not go, but at 
 his peril None but one who thinks himself infallible, or in 
 the exercise of a 'divine right" will have the audacity to 
 step between God and his child, to disturb the sacred rela- 
 
PERSONAL FREEDOM. 153 
 
 tion which exists, as is acknowledged in the gospel. If 
 kings or prelates could exhibit the proof of knowledge suf- 
 ficient to determine for all others ; and did they never 
 change their plans, nor alter their views, there would be, at 
 least, some consistency in their claims. But when they are 
 as unsettled, fluctuating, and wicked as the humblest of their 
 dependents, and advance by the same means to what know- 
 ledge they do possess, who can resign his own judgment — 
 shut his own eyes, to follow them ? Did truth come to them 
 intuitively or by direct inspiration, there would be some 
 reason in the demand to submit to them without question. 
 Had they eyes to see while all the rest were blind, we 
 would allow them to judge of colors, and would yield with- 
 out a murmur. Had they ears while all others were deaf, 
 we would not object to their rules of music. But so long 
 as they are like us — and we like them, we can not bury our 
 identity, or shirk our own responsibility under the shadow 
 of their pretended greatness and authority. 
 
 The practical working of these principles, politically, re- 
 ligiously, and socially, have been fully tested on Ireland. 
 And here the fatal lesson is read in the filthy hovels, tattered 
 garments, wan faces, crushed hearts and superstitious ob- 
 servances of this whole nation. Not many among them 
 feel the dignity and freedom of a child of God. Not many 
 dare stand up and say, " In God's name I do it." All say, 
 " It is by permission ! I dare not eat meat on Friday be- 
 cause the priest says I must not." But there is no longer 
 need of such a law in Ireland, for few can get it on that 
 or any other day of the week ! 
 
 Irishmen can never rise in the scale of moral excellence, 
 till this monstrous yoke is taken from them. When that is 
 done, they may begin to hope, for they will fee/ a freedom 
 and a responsibility to which they are now strangers. 
 They will start up the ascent of a moral elevation, down 
 which they have been forced by the oppressions of church 
 and state. Each advance will encourage to bolder efforts, 
 till every stumbling-block shall be taken out of the way, 
 
154 AN UNFINISHED CATnEDKAL. 
 
 and they will run fearlessly in the heavenward race, with 
 the glittering prize before them. The multitude who bow 
 at the tinkling of a bell, or cross themselves at a particular 
 signal, in the church, while a service is going on in a lan- 
 guage they do not understand, are acting mechanically, not 
 from conviction ; not as men should act, whose souls com- 
 mune with God, and drink in his spirit of wisdom and lib- 
 erty. They are honest, sincere, devout ; and so are the 
 worshippers of Budha and the followers of Mahomet. Are 
 they wise ? Do they comprehend ? Is it judgment, or 
 habit, free-will or cowering submission ? The unbiased 
 mind does not hesitate to give an answer. 
 
 TO TRALEE. 
 
 .riMM 
 
 The horse was harnessed to the car ; another passenger 
 took his seat with us ; I spake some encouraging words 
 to the people ; gave James my hand, in proof of my sin- 
 cere regard, promising not to forget him ; and, amid the 
 hearty benedictions of the people for a prosperous journey, 
 and safe return, we started for Tralee, distant nineteen 
 miles. 
 
 We passed, on our way, a large, unfinished building, de- 
 signed for a cathedral church. Its proportions are im- 
 mense, its style elegant ; but those who commenced its 
 erection did not exercise the prudence suggested in the 
 Gospel — to count the cost before beginning the work. 
 This is another proof of the wrong of priestcraft. Here 
 is a poor, ignorant, degraded, half-starved population. 
 They have not the means of procuring the common ne- 
 cessaries of life ; most of them can neither read nor write ; 
 and yet a tax is laid upon them to rear a stately edifice, 
 which, in architectural beauty and grandeur, shall vie with 
 any thing in the country. Immense sums have been ex- 
 pended already, and yet the walls are not completed. It 
 stands there, another, but yet unfinished proof of the pride 
 and fallacy of an arrogant priesthood, for the people had no 
 
SECTARIAN TRIDE. 155 
 
 voice in the design and execution of it. The old chapel 
 is commodious, but inferior m its appearance. It does not 
 compare well with the claims of supremacy, nor rank above 
 the old church of the Protestants. Forgetting the meek and 
 humble spirit of Christianity, which sanctifies even poverty 
 and makes it tolerable, it was deemed advisable to erect a 
 splendid edifice, which should become attractive to the out- 
 ward eye, acceptable to worldly pride, able to flatter this 
 simple people with the notion that God has been very kind 
 to them, in giving them a building so much superior to their 
 neighbors ! 
 
 There might be a seeming fitness in all this — for the 
 world and the church do so — if many persons, already im- 
 poverished, were not denied the means of subsistence, for 
 lack of what is here piled up in wrought stones laid in 
 mortar, one upon an other — not for convenience, but for 
 pride. It may be too utihtarian to speak thus ; but I can 
 not forbear the thought, and hence I may as well utter it. 
 It is questionable whether all attempts at display, above 
 real comfort, neatness, and beauty, are not, at all times and 
 in all places, a violation of the spirit of that religion whose 
 founder was meek and lowly, requiring his followers to be 
 " not conformed to this world, but transformed by the re- 
 newing of their minds," so as to raise another standard on 
 the purity of their lives, the sublimity of their hopes, and 
 sincerity of their devotions, which should spread above the 
 low and sordid pride of earth. God " dwells not in temples 
 made with hands, neither is he worshipped by men's hands, 
 as though he needed anything." We know that true piety 
 seeks no display ; and genuine benevolence does not sound 
 a trumpet before its face. Truth can be taught in simple 
 words ; goodness enforced by humble actions ; and virtue 
 recommended without a grand display. There is much to 
 please the eye, and delight the fancy, in the architectural 
 symmetry and gay decorations of a massive building ; 
 something truly grand and overpowering in the perform- 
 ance of showv religious rites, as the chants and responses 
 
156 A POOR HOUSE. 
 
 resound in dying echoes among the lofty arches of an old 
 Gothic cathedral ; and one feels his passions stirred, and his 
 neart melted to tears, precisely as he does in the theatre, or 
 at an Italian opera. In both cases, it is the music and the 
 acting that affects him, for he does not understand the lan- 
 guage of either. . 
 
 But I will not discuss this topic here. Yet I can not 
 suppress the thought that there is something strangely in- 
 consistent in this attempt to extract from the substance of 
 this wretched people, by promises and threats, in public and 
 in private, at the confessionals and at home ; involving not 
 only their duty and respectability here, but affecting their 
 prospect of salvation hereafter. Cases were related to me 
 which justify these remarks, and demand the severest re- 
 probation. Finding it impossible to wrench from this fam- 
 ishing population the means to complete this magnificent 
 edifice, an emissary has been sent to America to beg of 
 our laboring citizens the adequate amount. Religion, con- 
 trolled by misguided and proud partizans, has done strange 
 things in this world of ours. 
 
 A little way above the town stands the poor-house — a 
 large, new building, very handsomely situated, with fine, open 
 grounds about it, well fenced, and very neat. It is the only 
 sign of improvement and progress in the place. It looks 
 more like a palace than any thing to be seen, not except- 
 ing the lordly mansion of the Earl of Kenmare. 
 
 A short distance further, we met one hundred and fifty 
 or two hundred boys, from twelve years downward, who 
 belong to the work-house. They had been out a mile or 
 two, for a walk, under the charge of two or three keepers. 
 They were plainly dressed in gray clothes, which looked 
 quite neat. They were walking two and two, and seemed 
 very social and happy. Two little urchins had becom-e 
 leg-weary, and were mounted on the backs of two of the 
 largest, who were very froHcksome under their burdens. 
 These children are fed and clothed at public charge, and 
 taught to read, and write and work. Their condition, 
 
RETROSPECTIVE VIEW. 157 
 
 compared with the masses of children, is fortunate. Few 
 would object to have their children in the work-house. 
 But those who have any property complain bitterly of the 
 enormous taxes levied to support the government which 
 oppresses them, the church which curses them, and the 
 poor-house which makes them all poor. The doctrine of 
 legal association finds a hard illustration in the condition 
 of Ireland. 
 
 Looking back from the eminence over which we passed, 
 the scenery is grand and beautiful beyond description. 
 Seen in the clear sunlight of that charming day, every 
 thing appeared to good advantage. Gauzy clouds were 
 wrapt about the highest peaks, and the shadows which fell 
 upon the dark glens contrasted strongly with the clear green 
 meadows, the checkered fields, and silvery lakes. Every 
 thing was so quiet, soft and beautiful, that 1 could not resist 
 the feelins; of hia;hest admiration. The onlv drawback in 
 all that region of natural beauty, and splendor, is the condi- 
 tion of the people who dwell there. They, like a blotch 
 upon the face of beauty, mar the whole aspect, and leave 
 the heart sad, on taking a farewell view, and ever after, 
 when memoi'y revisits the scenes of that lovely spot of 
 earth. 
 
 I have dwelt at length, perhaps tediously, upon the scene- 
 ry about Killarney, because, in itself, it is remarkably fine, 
 and being considered superior to any other in the United 
 Kingdom, it deserves particular description. Besides it 
 surprised me with its peculiar attractions being unlike any 
 in our own country, and far more rugged and beautiful than 
 I had expected to see in the Emerald Isle. I had never 
 read a particular description of the mountains and rural 
 beauties of this country, but always thought of it as low and 
 flat, and half covered with bogs and fens, with little variety 
 of hill and dale, mountain and plain. What was my sur- 
 prise to see these ranges of rocky mountains, piled carelessly 
 together, heap upon heap, split up by deep and narrow glens, 
 and bordered by overhanging cliffs, up whose jagged sides 
 
 14 
 
158 phvsaCal and moral character. 
 
 creep the tangled honeysuckle,- and wild grape, with glassy 
 lakes, whose fretted sides are skirted with trees of most 
 luxurious growth, and studded with charming villas, where 
 wealth and pleasure find a secure abode. 
 
 With the character of a people we are apt to associate 
 the physical character of the country they inhabit. It is 
 generally thought there is an air of freedom and lofty ambi- 
 tion about mountainous regions which is not breathed in low 
 and marshy plains. Looking from that stand-point, who 
 would have thought to find more than sixty mountains in Ire- 
 land above two thousand feet high, and several attaining to 
 more than three thousand feet ? But such is the fact. The 
 face of the country is greatly diversified, equal to the 
 most hilly States of our Union, and the soil is surprisingly 
 rich and productive, when tolerably cultivated. There is 
 no cause for the misery and degradation which prevails so 
 extensively here, except in the monstrous exactions and op- 
 pressions of the Government and the Church, and the con- 
 sequent ignorance and inanity of the people. 
 
 Heaven has dealt liberally with this land and made it all 
 the fancy of poets have said of it, " the Emerald Isle — the 
 gem of the ocean." And could a spirit of self-identity, in- 
 dependence, and individual responsibility be awakened, and 
 the onerous impediments of priests and landlords be taken 
 away, this people, naturally so full of wit and endurance, 
 would soon rise in the scale of humanity to a rank equal to 
 any other nation. As it is, there is little hope of their re- 
 generation, except by a removal to other and more favoring 
 chmes ; nor then, if they take with them the most galling 
 chains that hold them back from prosperity — which too 
 many of them do — a tame submission to the will of spiritual 
 task-masters, and filth, and ignorance in which so many of 
 them are content to live. 
 
 Crossing the ridge of hills calM Slievemish, not more 
 than a dozen miles in extent, we had, from the summit, a 
 splendid view of the whole southern range of mountains, 
 stretching from Millstreet, west by Killarney, to Valentia, 
 
A PEN IN THE HIGHWAY. 159 
 
 where they dip into the ocean ; of the Brandon hills on the 
 west, and Stack hills on the north, with the most delicious 
 valleys between. A point not far from us attains an eleva- 
 tion of nearly three thousand feet. 
 
 Along the road, for some distance, there is a bleak tract 
 of moorland, which is sparsely inhabited and badly cultiva- 
 ted. In one place we saw a hut, or pen, built in the Queen's 
 highway, by placing boards or rails so that one end would 
 rest upon the stone wall, and the other on the ground ; a 
 covering of straw and green turf was thrown over these 
 sticks, and the house was finished. It was such a one as 
 we have seen put up, temporarily, for swine, among some of 
 the least thrifty farmers in the back settlements of our 
 country. An opening was left on one side for a door- way, 
 over which hung a ragged quilt, thrown partly aside, as we 
 passed, so that we could look in, and see an old woman sit- 
 ting on the straw, her nakedness scarcely half covei'ed by 
 the rags she was holding about her. Two other women, a 
 man, and several children were about the pen, all of them in 
 tattered and filthy garments. They looked as if in a state 
 of complete destitution, without food or friend, or a ray 
 of hope to kindle a thrill of joy in their hearts. 
 
 As we passed at a rapid rate, they looked up wistfully, but 
 were too emaciated to come to the road in season to beg. 
 We passed several squads of people, apparently families, 
 sitting by the wav side, or lying upon the grass, with bas- 
 kets and bundles about them. 
 
 These, the driver told us, were families who had been 
 turned out of their houses by their landlords, and were wan- 
 dering about in search of a home, or for something to do. 
 They subsisted by beggary, and often, generally, he thought, 
 slept by the road side. We asked him what he thought 
 would become of them ? 
 
 "Och, faix, an they'll sthaive as many a poour crayture 
 did last winther. Twas not sthrange to see um in scores 
 along the rood stark dead, an the childers by their sides a 
 weeping as theii hearts would brake. Yer honors know 
 
160 DISTILLERIES AND GROG-SHOPS. 
 
 nothing of poour Ireland, as ye sees it now 'Tis thruth 
 I'm telling ye ; sorra a lie in it, at all ; and may the Lord 
 have mercy upon my shoul." 
 
 The last part was uttered in a solemn tone, as if he sus- 
 pected us of incredulity. We asked why these people 
 did not go to the poor house. 
 
 " The alms house do ye mane ? Troth, there's no room 
 for um. The divil a one can git in there any hoo. Its 
 brim full. Its murther to turn these poour craytures out o' 
 doors to stharve. May the hooly mither remimber them ! 
 They are cruel bastes, the landlords, begorra, and I'm bould 
 to say it ov them." 
 
 A little farther on the country improves, and we passed 
 the elegant seat of a Mr. Blennerhasset. I remembered the 
 name, as one associated with another in our country, made 
 notorious by the basest acts that ever disgraced the annals 
 of depravity and crime, in high life ; and also by the elegant 
 speech of one of our most distinguished orators, who asked 
 " Who is Blennerhasset ?" Whether it was from this part 
 of Erin, that the distinguished exile came to a beautiful 
 island in the Ohio, which still bears his name, I did not 
 learn. But the remembrance was awakened by the men- 
 tion of the name of the proprietor of this villa, which, for 
 rural elegance, compares favorably with that of his fellow- 
 countryman before alluded to. 
 
 Still farther, we passed a large distillery standing back 
 from the road, near a handsome grove. This is another 
 of the fountains of wrong, whose streams spread poverty 
 and crime all over the island, and reduce this poor people 
 still lower in degradation. Every where the traveler sees 
 sign boards over doors, with the ominous words, '' Licensed 
 to sell spirituous liquors, and beer, and tobacco." The ex- 
 cise lax is one of the heaviest burdens upon the land, 
 though it is indirectly levied, and voluntarily paid. It is 
 like paying the man who abuses us — " being hanged and 
 paying a forty shilling" — purchasing the cause of suffering 
 and shame. Still the government carries on an indirect 
 
TRALEE. 161 
 
 traffic which it knows to be pernicious, lends it its sanc- 
 tion, and, for a miserable fee, protects particular persons in 
 the monopoly of making all the drunkards in the country. 
 Is not the government '' particeps criminis" to all the evils 
 which result from the whisky traffic ? How can it es- 
 cape ? 
 
 This is a grave matter, and deserves consideration. This 
 may not be the place to discuss it, but 1 could not forbear 
 the allusion, for the evils are too obvious to escape the no- 
 tice of the most careless observer. The systems of legis- 
 tion are undergoing great improvements, and a growing 
 philanthropy seeks, by wholesome enactments, to dissuade 
 from crime, in order to prevent its punishment. The doc- 
 trine of avoidance daily gains importance in the minds of 
 wise and judicious law-givers, and, it is hoped, will, some 
 day, be so well understood that the evils which now afflict 
 this country, and most others, will be taken out of the way, 
 that men may do themselves and the community no 
 harm. 
 
 TRALEE. 
 
 Tralee is situated in the bottom of a delightful valley, 
 about a mile from the head of a small inlet, which sets in 
 from the bay of the same name, with which it is conneeted 
 by a ship channel of recent construction. The hills on the 
 north rise in gentle undulations ; but on the south, stretch- 
 ing off to the west, is a range of abrupt hills, covered 
 with brown heather, and dotted with white cabins and 
 patches of tilled ground far up towards their summits. 
 The town itself shows many signs of thrift I had not ex- 
 pected to see, in this part of the country. Some of the 
 streets are spacious and regularly laid out, and many houses 
 are new and handsome, and the grounds about them are 
 tastefully decorated. A fair proportion of the inhabitants 
 are well dressed and genteel in their manners. 
 
 I noticed many very handsome women sitting by their 
 
 14* 
 
162 A SCENE OF HORROR. 
 
 windows, reading, walking in the streets, or present in the 
 church. I was surprised at such marks of refinement, so 
 unlike the character of the people we have seen since 
 leaving Cork. I am sorry to be compelled to add, however, 
 that we also saw specimens of destitution, and misery, more 
 horrid than any before described. 
 
 In one place we saw an old woman lying on a sort 
 of bed, which had been made of old rags, upon some boxes, 
 by the side of a yard fence. Two sticks were stuck in the 
 ground, on the top of which was placed an old door, the 
 other side resting on the fence. This formed her only 
 shelter. A ragged quilt was spread over her, which she 
 wrapped closer about her as we came near. A dirty cap 
 was on her head, beneath it her shriveled, cadaverous face, 
 faintly tinged with a hectic fever, one hand, withered to a 
 skeleton, lay by her cheek on the coarse pillow of straw, 
 which must have been gathered from the stable near by. 
 Close to her sat a middle aged, and more decently dressed 
 female, who might have been her daughter. She begged 
 of us, in the name of God, of the blessed Savior, and the 
 Holy Virgin ; in strong w^ords which seemed familiar to 
 her, bartering freely the rewards of heaven, for one poor 
 ha'-penny, for the sick, and dying woman. The old lady 
 muttered some words in answer to our inquiries, which 
 were scarcely intelligible ; indicating, however, that it 
 was the " will of God," and apparently trying to submit, as 
 well as she could, to what she seemed to regard a dire 
 necessity. One or two younger women, and some small 
 children, gathered around us, perfect pictures of destitution, 
 the most abject and loathsome. It was impossible for us to 
 contemplate this scene of misery. We had not nerve to 
 listen to their tale of wo. What we saw was enough — too 
 much almost, for human credulity. 
 
 It was more, by far, than we believed possible in a Chris- 
 tian land ; in a town of twelve thousand inhabitants, and 
 the capital of Kerry county, close by the elegant mansions 
 of opulent merchants and landholders, where fashion and 
 
AN ANOMALY. 163 
 
 luxury make a fair display ; and only a few rods from 
 churches of various denominations, where God is profess- 
 edly worshipped, in the name of tiTe merciful Redeemer, 
 who gave it as a witness of the divinity of his mission, 
 that " the poor have the Gospel preached to them ;" and 
 made the standard of acceptance to the honors he came to 
 bestow, " I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat ; thirsty, 
 and ye gave me drink ; naked, and ye clothed me ; a stran- 
 ger, and ye took me in ; I was sick, and ye visited me ;" 
 assuring them, that inasmuch as they had done it unto one 
 of the least of his brethren, they had done it unto him. 
 
 Mark our further astonishment, when, as we turned 
 away from this place, we saw posted up, close by, and in 
 many other places about the town, notices of a sermon 
 and a collection for that day, to take place in the Methodist 
 church, in aid of " Foreign Missions." My God ! thought 
 I, is it come to this, that these poor creatures — thy children 
 — are to be laid on boards in the street, and left to starve, 
 while christians are called upon, in the name of religion^ 
 and the hopes of heaven, to give their substance to help 
 convert the heathen ? How strangely is the Gospel of thy 
 Son interpreted! How singularly are its commands ap- 
 plied ! Is this the evidence of a living, saving faith ? the 
 working of that charity without which we are nothing? 
 Why will the wise in their generation be sticklers about 
 dogmas and forms of worship, while the masses pine in 
 ignorance, and die in beggary, for lack of true knowledge ? 
 Here is a prolific soil, a genial climate, and every physical 
 abihty which a bountiful God could bestow, and yet what 
 heart-rending scenes of starvation and misery ! what wails 
 of oppression ! What appalling horrors ; what stoic in- 
 difference on the part of the better — some times the reh- 
 gious, portion of the community ; what inhuman neglect on 
 the part of government, which pretends to exercise royal 
 f protection over her colonies ! 
 
 We turned from this horrid picture, and went away to 
 seek some object to divert our minds, and relieve us from 
 
164 A TROUBLESOME aUESTION, 
 
 the painful feelings which had overwhelmed us. We did 
 not succeed. The el^ance of some of the public build- 
 ings, the court-house, the church, the Catholic chapels, the 
 meeting houses of Presbyterians and Methodists, the hos- 
 pitals, the Union work-house, the infantry barracks, the 
 Green park, the fine bay — nothing could eradicate the im- 
 pressions of that wretched family, which inhumanity suf- 
 fered to remain in the open street, under circumstances 
 which appealed so forcibly to every generous and Christian 
 feeling for sympathy and relief. More than once I turned 
 to go back and cut short my means of traveling, by con- 
 tributing sufficient to make them all comfortable. But 
 then I felt what an insufficient thing is individual charity, 
 where there is so much poverty and suffering. I cannot 
 avert the evil, turn back the tide, or check the streams 
 which are swelling constantly the flood of pauperism 
 already spread so widely over this land. The root is 
 deeper than I can reach, and useless is the effort of a stran- 
 ger to do more than give a drop of comfort as he passes by. 
 So I tried to stifle the breathings of what little benevo- 
 lence had not been steeled to indifference by the shameless 
 beggary we had already been subjected to. The effort 
 was vain, for that and other like pictures haunt me still ; 
 and by no other principle than that a man's own is at his 
 disposal, and judgment does not justify an indiscriminate 
 bestowment of his temporal possessions. Of course, the 
 history of the past, the philosophy of our political and so- 
 cial economy, the doctrines and precepts of our pulpits, 
 the conduct of Christians, the judgment and prudent calcu- 
 lation of our heads, all join in this opinion upon this subject; 
 but still the heart demurs — it will not rest satisfied. There 
 are deep feelings which come welling up at the sight of 
 such miseries, which relax the tight cords of all our sys- 
 tems, and make us pitiful and sad — unless we have the 
 means and disposition to afford relief. And this feeling is 
 not relieved by the fact that one is in the possession of eve- 
 ry desired comfort himself, which he claims as the reward 
 
A SOURCE OF TROUBLE. 165 
 
 of his own industry and prudence. The heart will be sat- 
 isfied by no such logic, but continues clamorous for the ex- 
 hibition of sympathy, and a willingness to share an other's 
 wo, and help, by every practical means, to obtain relief. 
 
 The traveler's soul is often imbittered by such scenes of 
 degradation and misery. The splendid palaces of kings 
 and noblemen, the exquisite beauty of royal galleries of 
 art, the bibliothekes of wisdom, and even the grandeur of 
 natural scenery, the most powerful antidote of all, are in- 
 adequate to erase from the memory such pictures of misery 
 as one sees in Ireland. While I write, the endearments 
 and comforts of home, the general prosperity of friends and 
 country, and the reflection, in the most favorable light, that 
 I gave some small expressions of sympathy, can not still 
 the warfare in my soul, that there is a wrong, a great and 
 crying guilt some where, for which a fearful requisition 
 shall be made. The responsibility can not rest on the mere 
 passer-by ; and yet, as one among men I feel it. I had not 
 means to give, nor power to correct ; but I had a heart to 
 feel — but what is feeling, to hungry mouths and grieving 
 hearts ? It is bread and clothes they need, and a chance 
 to do, more than prayers ! Still there is a power in sym- 
 pathy, a virtue in prayer, which blend with those deeper 
 wants than worldly famine can reach, or any phase of ab- 
 stract theology satisfy. A penny bestowed with such a 
 grace, brings more real comfort than the cold charity of 
 half-a-crown. 
 
 It is not so much to relieve, as to remedy an evil. The 
 first is temporary, and as such, may be useful in aiding a 
 permanent cure. Ireland's appeal is to the world. Eng- 
 land is deaf, and the church is recreant. From the world, 
 relief must come — from America in particular, for no other 
 has room for them. That is the country of her hope. 
 Thither the starved and dying direct their glassy eyes, 
 with as ardent devotion and hope as Jew ever prayed to- 
 wards Jerusalem, or Moslem towards the tomb of his 
 Prophet. Shall the gateways to our immeasurable prairies, 
 
166 DIFFICULTY OF IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 SO beautiful in their wildness, and so productive under the 
 poorest cultivation, be shut against them, and they be left^ 
 to famish under the yoke of the oppressor ? | 
 
 We must not object because they are poor, and ignorant, i 
 and superstitious. These are reasons why we should re- 
 ceive and adopt them, that we may do them good. We 
 wish they were better, wiser, neater, more enterprising, and 
 less suspicious. They are not, and the choice is to take them 
 as they are, with the hope that they will forget their coun- 
 try and their habits, and become naturalized by corning up 
 to our standard, without trying to drag us down to theirs ; 
 or else to leave them here, to fester in their own corrup- 
 tions. We regret that they are so reluctant to make the 
 proper change ; that they cluster about the narrow lanes 
 and purlieus of our cities, instead of dashing off into our 
 new country, like the Germans, to improve waste land 
 which will repay them well, and make them rich. But, 
 trained as they have been, and treated as they are, little 
 can be expected of them. They know no better, and too 
 few seem disposed to teach them. There is nothing sys- 
 tematical in their emigration. They have no matured plan ; 
 no distinct object, farther than to get " till Amiriky." 
 They speak of it as dying men speak of going to heaven 
 — believing the battle will be fought and the victory won 
 when they get there, and a feast of fat things in preparation 
 for them. They are directed by instinct, more like birds 
 of passage than by well informed judgment, like men of 
 reason. 
 
 We passed along a narrow street, bordered by low, dirty 
 houses ; the front rooms used for meat stalls, as well as for 
 fish and vegetable markets. They were open, and, here 
 and there, were suspended quarters of lamb, pieces of veal, 
 while standing about were baskets of fish, some potatoes 
 and turnips, and any quantity of young cabbage. In the 
 same room with ihe marketing were the family, beds and 
 domestic utensils — what there were of them — scattered 
 about the floor. Many persons were standing about, con- 
 
IMPORTANCE OF EDUCATION. 167 
 
 versing, but none appeared to be purchasing meat or 
 other articles. Continuing our ramble we saw, what is no 
 uncommon thing, pigs eating from troughs, in the rooms 
 where the family stayed — they could hardly be said to live 
 — called in there for protection against the large and more 
 greedy swine squealing outside. In one street, numerous 
 ^specimens of this kind of house-keeping were exhibited, all 
 possessing the same general characteristics of poverty and 
 social degradation. 
 
 We stepped into one of the Catholic chapels. The in- 
 troductory service was over, and a brother was addressing 
 the few in attendance on the subject of education. His 
 remarks were excellent. He said a great majority of the 
 common people, above fifteen, can neither read nor write ; 
 few women can read their prayers. This is wrong. Their 
 condition can never be improved so long as things remain 
 so ; the people must be taught ; the children must all go to 
 school, if thev do nothing^ else— and much more to the same 
 effect. He enforced his remarks as one having authority, 
 with powerful appeals to their sense of duty ; an augury 
 of better times. I felt relieved. The sermon removed an 
 oppressive burthen from my mind. I have wondered the 
 pulpit — such a powerful engine, especially in the hands of 
 the Catholic clergy — has not been devoted to the popular 
 good. I know there is a great responsibility resting upon 
 those who are believed to speak by authority from heaven, 
 and who are obeyed without inquiry ; but I feared they had 
 not done their duty. The exhortations and commands of 
 that friar proved that all are not unaware of one of the 
 causes of their country's disgrace. 
 
 He was pleading for the parish school, and alluded some- 
 what severely to the national schools. I regretted that, but 
 still rejoiced on the whole, for knowledge in any form is 
 I better than ignorance. Could Ireland enjoy, for a single 
 ' generation, the common schools of some of our states, free 
 from sectarian influence, and open to all classes, a complete 
 revolution would follow, in all the affairs and prospects of 
 
168 THE BARONIAL CASTLE. 
 
 that country. It nay be the fear of this that prevents their 
 establishment. 
 
 Leaving the church, we strolled down the main street, 
 which is wide and handsome, lined with stores and dwell- 
 ings, many of which are large and elegant, along the 
 margin of the canal, whose sides are of hewn stone, to 
 the little village of Blennerville — the part of Tralee from 
 which the smaller class of vessels pass up ; the larger ones, ' 
 owing to a lack of water, remaining at anchor in the ha- 
 ven, a mile or so distant. From the bridge, at the head of 
 this inlet, is spread out a scene of rare beauty and richness. 
 
 Several schooners were coming up the bay in the light 
 breeze of the evening, whose white canvas contrasted 
 finely with the heathery hills beyond. Quite a company 
 had collected from the town, along the shore, to enjoy the 
 tranquillity and beauty of the setting sun. They appeared 
 orderly, social, and happy. Judging from them, and 
 all that could there be seen, one would never suppose 
 there were such pictures of wretchedness as I have de- 
 scribed, so near at hand. How little does the cheerful or 
 painted countenance tell of the canker that is gnawing at 
 the vitals. The hectic cheek makes the consumptive ap- 
 pear beautiful to the unpractised eye. 
 
 We returned to the town through a long, narrow street 
 of low huts, in which the pigs were eating, as before de- 
 scribed, the inmates sitting in the same room, and the little 
 children playing about with apparent familiarity. Not far off 
 is the old castle of the Desmonds, one of the powerful fami- 
 lies so famed in the feuds which formerly distracted this part 
 of Ireland, during the time of the McCarthys, O'Sullivans, 
 and O'Donoghues. On the overthrow of that family, the 
 town, castle, and surrounding lands were bestowed, as a 
 royal gift, upon the family of Sir Edward Denny, from 
 whom it has descended to the present proprietor, who has 
 changed the castle into an elegant mansion, and derives 
 a vast income from the lease of lots, and other privileges, 
 which have quadrupled within a few years past. 
 
A SERMON. 
 
 169 
 
 Passincr a large church, of modern erection, we stepped 
 in to listen to the evening service, which had already com- 
 menced. A woman, serving as sexton, conducted us to a 
 seat. The building is in the form of a cross, and very 
 spacious. Not more that seventy-five persons were in at- 
 tendance, though fifteen hundred could be accommodated 
 comfortably. The preacher, well dressed in silk surplice, 
 delivered a sermon, devoted to the explication of the hack- 
 neyed doctrine of " Election and Free-will," which he left 
 as he found it. He argued that " a free and full salvation 
 has been offered, and is made possible for the world, for all 
 men:— whosoever will, may have it— the gospel is adapted 
 to man's fallen nature— but man can do nothing of himself ; 
 —all is of grace— God does every thing— man can not 
 help God, he can not help himself, for St. Paul says to the 
 Gallatians, Mf ye do part, and God does part, Christ is be- 
 come of none effect to you, his promise is vain." 
 
 These expressions I noted at the time, and commented 
 upon them as I went home, thinking of the old sick woman, 
 I had seen in the street, and a hundred men or more, stand- 
 ino- along the middle of it with spades in their hands, like a 
 company of raw soldiers on drill, waiting to be engaged 
 the next day. What can these people know or care 
 about the abstractions and figments of creeds ? and how 
 are they benefited by such kind of preaching ? They al- 
 ready act, and talk as if they believed they were driven into 
 their desperate condition by a fatal necessity, agamst which 
 it is useless to contend, and from the miseries and disabih- 
 ties of which, there is no deliverance by any effort of their 
 own. After begging most urgently, and presenting their 
 wrongs and sufferings, in the most pathetic manner, they 
 will alwavs attach a supplementary expression of their faith, 
 that " it is the will of God," and submission is their only 
 
 duty. . , , 
 
 The expounder of English state-religion, might have 
 
 been correct, or he might not, in his peculiar views ; but 
 
 one thing is quite certain, that all such preaching will avail 
 
170 MORALITY BETTER THAN CONTROVERSY. 
 
 little for the relief and regeneration of Ireland, without a 
 large mixture of those simple truths, and duties so frequent- 
 ly and forcibly inculcated in the teachings of the New 
 Testament, but so much neglected in modern preach- 
 ing. It is a cause of much regret, that the pulpit should be 
 so constantly devoted to the discussion of disputed points 
 of theology, which have been argued by the ablest minds, 
 for centuries, with no nearer approach to any thing like a 
 satisfactory adjustment of the difficulties, than in the days 
 of St. Athanasius, Luther, and Calvin ; while the weightier 
 matters of religion, which relate to the immediate wants 
 and ability of the sinful, and suffering, are most wofully 
 neglected. The cry is for immediate relief, for practical 
 knowledge, for counsel and comfort, under present and 
 pressing necessities. And, if there is any virtue in the sys- 
 tem adopted by the " Friend of Sinners," and pursued by 
 his faithful Apostles, this good can not be obtained without 
 first entering into subtle and ambiguous arguments, and 
 disquisitions, upon the abstruse subjects of theology, or at- 
 tempting to settle every point in controversy. It is worse 
 than giving a course of lectures on anatomy over a man 
 with a leg-out-of-joint ; or a treatise on dentistry to a man 
 with a tooth-ache. 
 
 Better is it, in my humble apprehension, to follow out the 
 suggestions of benevolence, to engage, at once, in those 
 works which will afford present relief, and qualify the mind 
 to receive and appreciate new and pro founder truths, and 
 estimate more fully the principles of good action. " If any 
 man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine." All 
 Christendom is agitated with bickerings of sects and parties, 
 about forms and dogmas, to no profit ; while the people die 
 for lack of knowledge. Political interference has been in- 
 voked, and the power of state has often been prostituted to 
 the regulation of matters of opinion, for which a man is 
 responsible to God only. The consequence of all this is 
 seen in the condition of the people, wherever such con- 
 trol is attempted. And the oldest and most powerful sects 
 
PRACTICE BETTER THAN THEORY. 171 
 
 give the saddest exhibitions of their abuse of power and 
 privilege. 
 
 Behold Italy ; or sit here at my window, and look out 
 from the '"Royal Hibernia Hotel," upon that crowd of 
 rao-o-ed, dirtv, is^norant men, who are collected in the market 
 place, on this beautiful Sunday evenmg, with then' imple- 
 ments of husbandry, anxious to be engaged for to-morrow, 
 at the starving rate of a 6d. a day, which they must earn 
 or starve. 
 
 See those women in tattered garments, with haggard 
 faces, and that gang of smutty children, with bare legs, and 
 half-naked bodies, crawling about like a race of inferior be- 
 ings, more degraded in their appearance, and less cared for 
 than the negroes of Georgia. Think of that houseless 
 family before described, and then tell me what these churches 
 are doing to remove the curse from this land ; what good 
 comes from the discussion of the doctrines of divine sove- 
 reignty, human agency, apostolic succession, and such opin- 
 ions as divide and distract the church, alienate the hearts 
 of kindred, and array one portion of community against the 
 
 other. 
 
 What do these people know or care— what can they know 
 about these metaphysical and ecclesiastical questions? 
 They are more concerned about " praties" than dogmas, and 
 would give more for a pot of " stir-a-bout," than for all 
 the creeds from Athanasius down to Jo. Smith. Their 
 wants are immediate and pressing. They have neither 
 time, taste, nor talent, to think about such matters. They 
 need most, the hand of some good shepherd, to feed and 
 comfort them, to lead them into green pastures, and beside 
 still waters, some voice to plead their cause in the counsels of 
 the nation, to procure the removal of the grievous burdens, 
 under which so many stagger and fall, and all the land 
 groans in bondage. They need the devotion of an Oberlin, 
 who shall teach their children to read, and their men to 
 
 work. 
 
 "To WORK?" What work is there for them to do? 
 
172 DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 They are willing and anxious to work, fourteen hours a day 
 for a 6d. and at any kind of service. But this is denied 
 them. There is no chance for an Oberlin in Ireland. They 
 can not till the sides of these rocky hills, lest they disturb 
 the cherished deer of a London sportsman ; they must not 
 root out a single bramble or bunch of heather, to plant a 
 hill of potatoes, lest they scare the rabbits of the noble pro- 
 prietor, who is, perhaps, a lordly, sporting prelate of the 
 church ! 
 
 There is a work the church can do, to which every true 
 christian ought to lend a helping hand. These people can 
 be instructed to read and write ; to keep themselves clean, 
 to I can not finish this sentence, I see so many dif- 
 ficulties rising up, one after another, each succeeding one 
 more formidable than the last, that, like these depressed 
 creatures, I yield in desj^air. How can these people keep 
 clean in their floorless, smoky hovels ? Their naked feet 
 tread upon the cold ground, and they have neither chairs 
 nor bedsteads. Teach them industry ! They have no 
 chance to exercise such functions, if acquired. Submission 
 is the only practical lesson they can understand. Of that 
 they have a most perfect apprehension. If there is any 
 virtue in that, the poor Irish are the most virtuous people 
 on earth ; for extremest lessons have been given them, and 
 they maintain the same dogged stupidity, hugging the fet- 
 ters which enslave them, till death or expatriation releases 
 their grasp, and sets them free. 
 
 But here is another subject for reflection. The cham- 
 bermaid has just come into our room to light our candles, 
 and arrange our beds. She is a sturdy, decently dressed 
 girl of twenty, or twenty-five. We engaged her in conversa- 
 tion, that we might learn something of the condition of this 
 class of people. She seemed quite intelligent, and answered 
 frankly all the questions we asked her. She said she did all 
 the chamber- work and washing, finding the soap and can- 
 dles for the rooms, for £6 a year, (t30) and the " chances," 
 some £2 more. She also boarded herself, except her dinner, 
 
 I 
 
SERVANTS. 1'73 
 
 which was given her at the hotel. Her " chances," sc:ne 
 days, amounted to two or three shillings, but frequently she 
 got nothing, for, unless the travelers gave it to her directly, 
 she rarely ever received any thing. She was, therefore 
 obliged to keep watch and see when they were about to 
 leave, or else she was pretty sure to fail, as they would 
 either give nothing, or the chief servant, or the keeper 
 would keep all. 
 
 This system of hotel-keeping is exceedingly annoying. 
 A man pays his bill — all that is demanded for every item 
 he has had — and when about to leave, the waiter demands a 
 fee, and, if no one is about, takes for himself, the chamber- 
 maid, and " boots ;" and if he is not off at once, the cham- 
 bermaid will be at him, and boots will follow him to the 
 coach-office and become clamorous, refusing to believe that 
 the chief-waiter has already received his portion. The 
 servants have no confidence in each other. They have 
 their grades, and poor boots being lowest, is always 
 the most suspicious and clamorous. If he finds a traveler 
 has left and given nothing, he will chase him, and plead 
 and threaten in behalf of both the others, and whatever he 
 gets he will keep to himself, be it much or little. To him 
 it is lawful plunder. This is all wrong, and the source of 
 much unpleasantness to the traveler, especially to one who 
 has not been accustomed to such a system of exactions. 
 
 The usual charges are higher than we pay at home, and 
 then comes this beggary on the score of right — a demand 
 for services rendered. The natives complain of this evil as 
 much as Americans, but they understand better how to get 
 along at a cheap rate, and without trouble. Another rea- 
 son is, the poor people think Americans are not only rich, 
 but generous, and as we are obliged to enter our names and 
 residences on the books of the clerk, the servants at once 
 begin to "calculate their chances." They set the price 
 high, and are not willing to be disappointed. Necessity 
 knows no law. Their poverty urges them to press their 
 
 15* 
 
174 A REFLECTION. 
 
 demands as long as there is a " chance" left, in utter defi 
 ance of all rules of justice and decorum. 
 
 It is half-past ten, though still light. All is quiet in the 
 streets. The moon shines softly, and casts the shadows of 
 the buildings along the streets. 1 hear the solemn tramp 
 of the lone policeman, which sounds dolefully to a spirit, 
 saddened, like mine, by the scenes of the past day. What 
 a Sabbath this has been ! I have gazed on the richest 
 beauties of nature — the lofty, rugged mountains, piled 
 carelessly together, reft with many a gorge and glen ; upon 
 the deep, tangled wild- wood, bordering the rocky shores of 
 the quiet lakes ; upon the charming green fields and flower- 
 gardens, and shaded walks ; upon the palaces of the nobles, 
 the low mud hovels of the poor; the ruins of abbeys, 
 castles, and convents ; upon the grotesque masses assem- 
 bled for the worship of a common Father, the Maker of all, 
 in the name of the one Master and Savior, " who tasted 
 death for every man :" upon the new manifestations of 
 pride, struggling in the midst of poverty, oppression, and 
 famine, to rear a gorgeous temple made with hands ; upon 
 whole families — decrepit age, and helpless infancy — house- 
 less, friendless, foodless, and in tatters, by the way-side, 
 ready to die of hunger and cold, in the midst of wealth, 
 fashion, and professed piety ! What a world is this ! What 
 scenes of horror, crime, and destitution are in it ! Crushed 
 hearts, blasted hopes, hungry mouths, glazing eyes ! Oh, 
 God, thou Merciful and Just, look down, at this silent hour, 
 and deal gently with those still sleepless from pain, anxiety, 
 or famine, and give protection to all. Hast thou no deliver- 
 ance from these wrongs and miseries, so deep, so bitter, so 
 vast, so ocean-like ? Shall thy children, the work of thine 
 own hands, be for ever wronged, cheated, abused by sin, the 
 foul deceiver and despoiler of the world ? Is there no vir- 
 tue in the Cross ? — no power of goodness left to conquer, 
 redeem, and reconcile to the wise, and holy, and benevo- 
 lent institutions of thy righteous government ? Lift, then, 
 the heavy cloud of error ; dispel the darkness of unbelief, 
 
 1 
 
CASTLE GREEN. 175 
 
 and give Faith to the children of men. So shall thy laws 
 be obeyed, and thy name be honored on the earth. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FROM TRALEE TO LIMERICK. 
 
 Castle Green. — A Scene of Beggary. — Scenes of Misery. — Difficulties imder 
 which the People suffer. — The Cause. — Cashin Bog. — Listowel. — Tar- 
 bert. — Land Titles. — Middle-men. — Condition of Tenants. — A Dinner. — 
 A Family. — Oppression of Landlords. — Emigrants leaving Home. — The 
 Separation. — Taken for an Englishman. — The Shannon. — A Steamboat. — 
 The Passengers. — The Wrong of Vengeance. — An Ambitious Mother. — 
 A Minstrel. — Scenery. — Glynn. — Bunrutty. — More about Landlords and 
 Small Farmers. — Squatters. — Social Evils. — Useless Agitations. 
 
 May 22. — Rose at four o'clock, and took a stroll about 
 the town. The sun was already risen, and the people at 
 their work — those who were so fortunate as to find any thing 
 to do. We took a look at the extensive barracks, and ad- 
 mired the comfortable quarters of the soldiers, who are 
 comparatively well-fed and well-paid for idling away their 
 time, doing nothing but learning the tactics of war, and thus 
 -becoming the right-arm of oppression. Near them is the 
 fever hospital ; and, not far off, the Union work-house. 
 The court-house and prison are in the town. All these 
 buildings, as well as the churches, make a fair show in 
 their outward appearance. 
 
 We entered the " Castle Green" — a large park and plea- 
 sure grounds belonging to Sir Edward Denny, Bart., the 
 " noble proprietor" of all the lands in this region — through a 
 private house, the tenant permitting us to do so. A herd of 
 cows and goats were feeding ; several men and women were 
 engaged in milking them. A portion of the extensive grounds 
 are handsomely laid out, and beautifully ornamented with 
 shade trees, shrubs, and flowers. Some years ago. Sir Ed- 
 ward was a candidate for Parliament, when, in his generous 
 
176 A LITTLE RETALIATION. 
 
 hope of self-aggrandizement, he opened his grounds to the 
 public, to the great joy and comfort of the poor people, 
 who praised this gracious act of condescension shown by 
 the '• noble" baronet, and walked in the shady bowers of 
 their almost royal patron ! 
 
 But this morsel did not so sweeten the cup from which 
 they had long drank as to secure his election. He was de- 
 feated, and a man of less pretensions, and more merit, was 
 returned to Parliament. Whereupon this little stream of 
 comfort, which had eked through the thick shell of his 
 "noble" selfishness, was withered up, and the gates have 
 ever since been closed to all, except those who, like our- 
 selves., creep in some other way, by permission. It is, 
 doubtless, more profftable as a cow-pasture, than as a place 
 of resort for the ungrateful populace. 
 
 There is one comfort left to this down-trodden race — the 
 sweets of vengeance — when they vote against the promotion 
 of the men who oppress them. Was suffrage universal, 
 they would have more frequent opportunities to scatter 
 thorns in the paths of oppressors. 
 
 Returning to the " Royal Hibernia," we found the ser- 
 vants in waiting, each on the look-out for himself. Why 
 should not people, in their circumstances, grow selfish ? 
 What but " special grace" can keep them from it ? We 
 gave Miss Chambermaid her fee. Of the others we had 
 received no service, so, in mathematical justice, nothing 
 was the equivalent. That was no matter. We had been 
 at the hotel over night, and Waiter and Boots had looked 
 at us. Must they not be paid for it ? How else could 
 they live ? 
 
 Taking our sacks away from Boots, we crossed over to 
 the post-house. A single mail car was to take us to Tar- 
 bert, on the Shannon. There were but four seats, and two 
 were engaged already. So one of us must take the "well" 
 — that is, sit upon the box between the other passengers, 
 and ride backwards, his legs hanging down behind, without 
 any support for the feet — not a very comfortable position. 
 
AN UNFORTUNATE GIRL. 171 
 
 A multitude of squalid creatures, such as we have de- 
 scribed at other places, here presented themselves, of both 
 sexes and of all ages, seemingly determined to obtain some- 
 thing from us, if importunity could extort it. So dense 
 was the mass upon the side-walks, that it was with no 
 common effort we could work ourselves through, aided 
 though we were by the threats and reprimands of the 
 agent. Finding we were likely to be overwhelmed, we 
 tried our hands at sustaining " law and order," and defend- 
 ing our rights against the indecencies and outrages upon 
 peaceable travelers. We were little more successful, at 
 first, than the office-keeper, for our voices were less fami- 
 liar, and our manner less boisterous. But we did not suc- 
 ceed. 
 
 Among the crowd of beggars I noticed a young wo- 
 man, not over eighteen, of very pretty appearance and 
 modest address. Her hair was combed smooth ; her di'ess 
 was poor and worn, but tidy ; her form was slender and 
 delicate, made so by hunger, and her whole appearance, un- 
 der other circumstances, would have been considered re- 
 spectable, if not handsome. She needed only clothes and 
 food to make her, personally, beautiful. She wrapped her 
 old shawl closer about her shoulders, and made several 
 efforts, before she had the courage to beg of us for a penn}', 
 to buy some bread. I never can forget her manner, nor 
 her words. Her looks showed that she felt keenly her 
 abasement ; that nothing but the bitterest and most inexora- 
 ble necessity could force her to ask an aim ; and even this 
 had not steeled her young heart to shame and contempt, 
 to which she knew she exposed herself Her voice qui- 
 vered and died away into a whisper, while large tears start- 
 ed from her soft blue eyes, and trembled an instant before, 
 one after another, they coursed down her pallid cheek, 
 slightly tinged with the suffusion of what little blood still 
 flowed in her veins. She wiped off the tears with a corner 
 of her old shawl, and tried to look composed. 
 
 I never felt the deep fountains of my soul so moved 
 
178 POVERTY CONTRASTED. 
 
 before. I never had a trial like this. Oh, I would give 
 more for that prayer which lingered on those lips, before 
 it went forth to heaven, the utterance of a pure and true 
 heart, than for the studied words of priest or bishop in the 
 rites of consecration, or at the baptismal font — " Kind sir, 
 will ye give me a ha'-penny, to buy some bread for my 
 mither and little sisters, and may heaven bless you and 
 keep you ?" . 
 
 I thought of my home, my wife, my daughters, and little 
 children ; of the abundance of our land ; the quiet, and 
 comfort, and competence of our native citizens ; and I 
 wished this young woman and her mother and sisters were 
 there. I remembered an instance in my ow^n city which 
 appeared in strong contrast. 
 
 A girl of seventeen came to my house with a note from 
 her father, asking charity in the name of a common hu- 
 manity. I went with her, and found an intelligent Irish- 
 man of forty, who had served several years as a Lieute- 
 nant in the British army, but for love to his family had ex- 
 changed his " commission" for land in Canada, which 
 proved to be so wild and inhospitable he could not live 
 upon it. His young wife, by a second marriage, was very 
 handsome. A son and two daughters, of which the one 
 who came for me was the youngest, and an infant, con- 
 stituted the family. They were in an upper room in Ya- 
 rick-street, over a dram shop. They had no chairs, no 
 bedstead ; an old chest or two, and some clothes upon the 
 floor was all. It was a cold December night, and they had 
 no fuel. I thought that surpassed all imaginable misery, 
 and was the lowest depth to which a family could be re- 
 duced in a christian land. 
 
 I had not seen Ireland. My ears had never heard such 
 plaintive cries as have here reached them. And then I felt 
 that there was no real legalized oppression, but a chance 
 left. An e.-lort would bring permanent relief I saw a 
 hope for them, and tried to awaken one in their hearts. I 
 can not do it here. There is no hope but in death or emi- 
 
TOWARDS THE SHANNON. 179 
 
 gration. And I look upon that young woman, so beautiful 
 in her degradation, with an anguish too deep for utterance. 
 
 I was glad when the driver mounted the other end of 
 the " well," and cried out in a coarse voice, " Eyah ! oout 
 of the way, ye rapscallions," and the tatterdemalions scam- 
 pered away, but still begged louder than ever. I did actu- 
 ally feel a relief, as if fetters had been taken off my hmbs, 
 when we were fairly clear of these beggars ; for the chil- 
 dren ran beside our carriage a long distance, entreating us 
 to give them a ha' penny, as loud as they could scream. 
 Could I have erased such events from my memory, I 
 should suffer less sadness of heart when I think of Tralee 
 and the beautiful scenes about it. 
 
 For some distance the road, which, like all the main 
 roads in this country, is excellent, passes through pretty 
 and fertile fields, and then commences to wind up the as- 
 cent of the Stack hills, by a steep and circuitous route, till 
 it reaches the summit, from which there is a fine view of 
 the whole surrounding country. In the bottom of the 
 beautiful valley, extending from Castleisland is the town and 
 harbor of Tralee, the waters of Ballyheigue Bay, spread 
 out towards the sea. From the opposite shore the Bran- 
 don hills rise abruptly, dipping into the Atlantic on the west, 
 and stretching eastward to the deep, narrow valley which 
 divides them from the Slievemish, through which runs the 
 road to the head of Dingle bay. Then the latter range ex- 
 tends farther to the east, over which are caught glimpses 
 of the peaks about Killarney. In the valley before us are 
 several beautiful seats of the gentry, which would add 
 more to the beauty of the landscape were there not so 
 many evidences of the squalid misery which abounds among 
 the common people. Nature has made it a sweet and 
 lovely vale, but man has sadly disfigured it. 
 
 Before us a broad expanse of slightly undulating country 
 extends north, towards the hills and headlands about the 
 mouth of the Shannon. This region is more bleak and 
 desolate than any we have yet seen. The soil itself is 
 
180 DESTITUTION. 
 
 poor, being formed of extensive fields of bog, vast shrubless 
 moors, and heathy and barren sand hills, with only here and 
 there a narrov/ glade fit for cultivation. The inhabitants 
 are more wretched than the country, surpassing, in the 
 depth of their degradation, all we have yet seen. 
 
 Their low huts made of turf, and half covered with 
 thatch, an old ragged quilt hung up for a door ; the piles of 
 filth in front ; the pale, sickly, half-starved children, some 
 with scarcely a rag to cover their nakedness ; the men with 
 corduroy breeches, and coarse shirts all patched and ragged, 
 and a slouched hat drawn over their heads ; the women in 
 nothing but tattered, brown frocks, with cadaverous faces, 
 peeping from under snarled wads of matted hair, their faces, 
 hands, and feet streaked with dirt, the entire absence of 
 any thing like a garden, or potato patch ; in short, every- 
 thing exhibits signs of the utmost destitution and misery. 
 
 We met squads of men and women going into Tralee 
 for what we could not guess. They looked so wretched 
 and wo-begone, that we were frightened at their presence, 
 as they turned their wan faces and haggard eyes towards us. 
 There was nothing of fierceness in their looks to terrify us, 
 or suggest the thought that they would plunder ; but such 
 a complete prostration of all that is noble and manly, that 
 we shrunk from them with a shudder, as when awakened 
 from a frightful dream, or startled from a reverie by the 
 touch of some imaginary monster whom we know can do us 
 no harm. We also met several women, some young, driving 
 asses loaded with panniers oi' turf, which they hoped to 
 sell in Tralee, or which was to pay for rent or taxes. They 
 were dressed like the others, without hat, cap, or shoes. 
 
 Having reached the summit, the driver halted for us to 
 resume our seats, having walked for the last mile or two. 
 Here a squad of little children, stationed along the side of 
 the road, with rags dangling about their legs and arms, 
 dashed towards the car with pieces of lighted turf, for those 
 to light their pipes or segars who chose to do so. The 
 driver improved the opportunity, and soon enveloped his 
 
ACCOMMODATIONS FOR SMOKERS. 181 
 
 head in a cloud of smoke. With becoming condescension, 
 he waited for the passengers to follow his example. One 
 did so ; the rest had no need. But now came the tussle. 
 All scrambled up to see who could beg loudest. The turf 
 was thrown down when it would avail nothing, for neither 
 smoker paid for the favor received, but turned the poor 
 urchins back upon us. I could not fail to notice the cold 
 look of indifference, which expressed more than words 
 could utter, from those men who were here among their own 
 countrymen. 
 
 Giving time for the bestowing of our benefactions, the 
 driver started on, and the children followed upon a full run, 
 for a hundred rods, shouting and screaming all the way for 
 a ha'-penny, till completely out of breath. Some of them 
 were not over four or five years old, others were nine or 
 ten. All started with the most frantic resolution to gain 
 something, and were desperate in their efforts. The little 
 fellows soon gave out, but the larger ones ran with astonish- 
 ing determination, and yielded only when their strength 
 was entirely exhausted. When a penny was thrown to 
 them, they all rushed for it like pigs, or fowls for an ear of 
 corn, appearing no more reasonable nor less ravenous. We 
 distributed our store of bread and cheese we had laid in for 
 our way-side breakfast, which was devoured greedily by 
 those who were fortunate enough to get a piece, and with a 
 haste that indicated there was danger of losing it. I have 
 seen boys beg for " une sou," along the road from Quebec 
 to Montmorenci, but they were genteel compared with 
 these. Those begged for gain, and by custom ; these of 
 necessity, and for life. They chased us with the ferocity of 
 wild beasts, famished with hunger, and doubtful of their 
 prey. 
 
 For myself, my pennies were gone, and I reasoned fool- 
 ishly. I said it is wrong to give them, for it creates a habit 
 of idleness, keeps them away from school, and encourages 
 them to annoy every traveler coming this way. But I for- 
 got where I was. I did not consider there was no school 
 
 16 
 
182 POLITICAL REMEDI3S. 
 
 for them to attend, no work for them to do, no home, nor 
 larder, nor wardrobe for them — nothing but want gnawing 
 at their vitals, and oppression crushing their young hearts, 
 and driving them, thus early, to beggary and crime. 
 
 How falsely do we often estimate the conduct of others, 
 and justify our neglect of duty, by what we count wrong 
 in them! How few take into the account, all the circum- 
 stances, profound or apparent, in making up an estimate of 
 another's character ! We call these Irish people a poor, 
 filthy, ignorant, superstitious race, not fit to be treated with 
 any mark of respect ; yea, some add, they are jealous, false, 
 and dishonest. Who can wonder if they are ? Nay, I am 
 more surprised that they are as good as their worst enemies 
 and traducers admit them to be. Having lived, generation 
 after generation, in a state of the utmost depression, denied 
 the means of a common education, never allowed to think, 
 or speak, or act, for themselves, except by permission ; 
 struggling, constantly, and under the most forbidding cir- 
 cumstances, for a precarious living, oppressed, abused, and 
 cheated by temporal and spiritual rulers, and worse, by an 
 overbearing landlordism, which knows neither mercy, jus- 
 tice, or common humanity ; which w^ill have its pound of 
 flesh, if it must come from the hearts of starved and or- 
 phan children ! How can they rise ? How can they 
 avoid sinking, every year, deeper and deeper, into the loath- 
 some wretchedness where so many are wallowing, with no 
 hope of deliverance, no drop of comfort left them ? 
 
 The whole history of Ireland's wrongs proves that, as 
 certainly as effect will follow cause, the whole course of legal, 
 ecclesiastical, and social policy, whether intended or not, I 
 will not pretend to judge, has been to reduce this nation to 
 its present condition of destitution, and misery. Nothing 
 could be more probable — nor more certain and direct And 
 the few crumbs of parliamentary relief are merely political, 
 affecting only the rich and aspiring demagogues. There is 
 nothing radical, comprehensive, permanent, in all that has 
 been done — nothing that will remove the cause, stop the 
 
INSUFFICIENT. 183 
 
 crevasse through which the deluge of evil is sweeping with 
 such alarming force, till it has reached the high places, as 
 well as low, and all ranks complain, with sad and strange 
 comminglings, of their unfortunate condition. 
 
 The rich and poor grumble savagely about the poor rates 
 and union work-houses. Nobody is satisfied. O'Connel 
 plead with manly fortitude and perseverance, for the re- 
 moval of political disabilities ; and he succeeded. The 
 Repealers are clamorous for the severance of the union, but 
 they hardly know what they ask for. The " Young Irish 
 Party" would adopt forcible measures to cut the bond, let 
 come what will. They think the case could not be worse. 
 But I have yet to learn how all that would fill these hungry 
 bellies, and clothe these shivering limbs. It might arouse a 
 spirit of freedom, and work a regeneration which would, 
 ultimately, do some good ; but, unless the enormous wrongs 
 of feudalism, the possession and entailment of these large 
 landed and leasehold properties, the arrogance of the no- 
 bihty and gentry, were crushed, and all family distinctions 
 annihilated, and a spirit of individualism, of personal rights 
 and responsibility, mutual relations and dependencies, and 
 social equality, were awakened and brought into free 
 and sturdy exercise, I can see no real victory gained, no 
 permanent blessing to be secured by the favorable termina- 
 tion of their agitations. 
 
 What do these starved c 'nldren care whether a parlia- 
 ment meets in Dublin or in London ? — whether Victoria, 
 Brian Boroihme, or Daniel O'Connel is at the head of gov- 
 ernment ? — whether the Pope or the Queen is the head of 
 the church militant ? They want immediate relief, and a 
 radical removal of the burdens under which they groan. 
 They want a chance to make a living, without supporting 
 hundreds in idleness, luxury, and extravagance, in foreign 
 lands. They want a patch of earth, which shall not be 
 covered over so deep with rents and taxes that they can 
 not touch the produce of the soil. They want an educa- 
 tion that shall enable them to transact the business of life 
 
184 THE CASHIN BOG. 
 
 in an understanding manner ; to know their rights, the 
 sources of success and the secret of their miseries. They 
 want a religion that shall acquaint them with the true cha- 
 racter of God, and the methods of his government, make 
 them know and feel that he holds them directly and person- 
 ally answerable to himself; that he helps them w^ho help 
 themselves ; that he has delegated no power to stand be- 
 tween their consciences and his commands ; that he has 
 left the will free to choose or reject ; and forbidden the in- 
 terference of all human authority in matters of opinion ; 
 that the end of the law is righteousness, (right in action,) 
 goodness, (good made operative,) and reconciliation to his 
 most holy will. With such chances — such opportunities, 
 Ireland may be redeemed, and her wronged and oppressed 
 people rise high in the scale of human greatness, and do 
 honor to Great Britain and the world ! 
 
 In the flat and bleak district we are now passing, hes 
 the Cashin bog, said to be one of the largest in the country. 
 It stretches off to the westward, towards Knockanore and 
 the caverned hills which bound the ocean near the Shannon's 
 mouth. The edges of the bog are worked for the fuel, 
 which is conveyed to Tralee in small carts and panniers, 
 drawn or carried by asses driven by women. Multitudes 
 of men and women, boys and girls, were at work, cutting 
 or spreading, carrying out, or piling up the turf A descrip- 
 tion of a bog, and the mode of preparing the peat for use, 
 may not be uninteresting to my readers. 
 
 It is computed that there are nearly three million acres of 
 bog in Ireland. The largest portions lie in low grounds or 
 basins, and some in elevated places, and surrounded by hills, 
 and others on the tops of mountains, as at Mangerton. 
 The latter are called mountain bogs. The surface is usu- 
 ally flat, but sometimes slightly undulating, like the waves 
 of the sea, or the rolling prairies in our Western States. 
 Their appearance is like our marshes, thickly grassed over, 
 with patches of dark earth appearing here and there. The 
 bog, like the alluvium of our low prairies, seems to be a ve- 
 
 1 
 
PREPARING PEAT. 185 
 
 getable deposit, coarse upon the surface, but becoming finei, 
 blacker, and more solid, downwards. It frequently exhibits 
 stratas of light colors and coarser texture. Whole trees 
 of large size, are often found imbedded in them, several 
 feet below the surface, in a sound and perfect state. The 
 wood from these trees is often worked into articles of fur- 
 niture, canes, and toys, and, when highly polished, appears 
 very fine. The grain is coarse, but like an oak immersed 
 in water for a long time, becomes hard, and of a dark 
 color. 
 
 The process of preparing and curing the peat is very 
 simple. An opening is made by cutting a ditch to lead off 
 the water, leaving the borders sufficiently dry to be worked. 
 A long, sharp knife; somewhat like a scythe sharpened upon 
 the back, is used to cut the mass into vertical slabs, about 
 four inches in thickness. These are again cut into square 
 strips, and then into pieces of eight or ten inches in length. 
 These cubes, looking like long, black bricks, are carried back 
 by the women and children a few rods, and spread out upon 
 the ground to dry. After a few^ days, they are piled in 
 heaps and left to ''cure," till carried to market. Several 
 days are required to fit the turf for burning freely. When 
 once dry, it does not wet through easily, and so the peat is 
 sometimes left in Httle stacks for months. 
 
 Each cutting extends down three or four feet. The up- 
 per layer is not as good as the lower, and is frequently 
 thrown away. In some places I have seen four or five of 
 these cut from the same bog, one rising above the other 
 in terraces, and grass, oats, or potatoes growing upon the 
 residuum at the bottom, twelve or fifteen feet below the ori- 
 ginal surface. 
 
 The bog we passed to-day is extensively worked. 
 Acres and acres have been cut over, on both sides of the 
 road. For miles we could see the black streaks, where 
 the workmen were laying out the fuel for next winter. 
 The road runs through the bog, which has been cut away 
 to the hard bottom, and is well graded and macada- 
 
 16* 
 
186 LISOWEL. 
 
 mized. On one side, workmen were engaged on a ridge 
 several feet above the level of the road, which yielded a 
 fine crop of turf I am not able to compute the amount 
 which can be cut from an acre. But when it attains the 
 depth of fifteen feet, the crop must be immense. Neither 
 did I learn the terms on which the workmen are employed, 
 further than it is considered about the lowest and hardest 
 business a person can pursue by which to get a livehhood. 
 The terms, certainly, can not be very favorable, judging 
 from the character of the people employed, which is the 
 most deplorable of any we have seen at any kind of labor. 
 
 There are few places, towns, castles, hamlets, or villas 
 worthy of notice for the forty miles to Tarbert, except 
 Listowel. There are, to be sure, the dirty hamlet of Odor- 
 ney abbey, and the ruins of an old church ; the monument 
 of one of the Earls of Kent, on the summit of a hill, at 
 some distance, which must be an attractive object to the 
 descendants of the poor serfs of that feudal lord, who 
 helped procure for them their miserable estate. But it is in 
 a very fitting place, overlooking a wide extent of flat and 
 dreary moor, with bleak and desolate hills in the distance. 
 There are several other small places, which scarcely de- 
 serve a name. 
 
 Listowel is situated on the banks of the Feale, which, a 
 little beyond, widens into an estuary, and sweeps off^ towards 
 the ocean. A new and very handsome stone bridge has 
 been built over the river, and the hand of improvement has 
 been busy in adorning the banks with a beautiful plantation 
 about the mansion of the " Right Honorable Maurice Fitz- 
 gerald, the Knight of Kerry," the "noble proprietor" of the 
 town and surrounding country, and by " divine right," the 
 oppressor of the people. Perhaps I ought to say, that, in 
 his case, many people speak well of him, as one who has a 
 heart not wholly impervious to the claims of justice and 
 humanity, as he does sometimes deign to bestow a thought 
 upon his tenants, and inquire after their condition, whether 
 their rents are all paid, and how they can be made of more 
 
THE LORDS OF KERRY. 181 
 
 service to his interests and their own. And then the beau- 
 tifying of his grounds along the river has afforded employ- 
 ment, at a 6d. a day, to many a poor fellow, who has thus 
 been able to carry a little more oatmeal to appease the 
 crying hunger of wife and children. 
 
 On a small knoll, close upon the bank, surrounded on the 
 town side by buildings, are the remains of the old castle 
 of the " Lords of Kerry," the renowned Fitzgeralds, who 
 were notable chiefs in the days of the civil wars, and held 
 out long and manfully against their enemies in the times 
 of the invasion. They were frequently in concert with 
 the Desmonds, and, when conquered, partook of the ven- 
 geance which fell upon their compatriots. The castle is 
 little more than a pile of ruins. Its position could not have 
 been very formidable, as it must have been accessible at 
 least, on three sides. Sir George Carew tested its strength 
 m 1600, and subjected it to his authority. 
 
 There is a very respectable church standing in the 
 midst of the public square, a Catholic chapel, and several 
 stores, workshops, and decent buildings. The masses of 
 people, however, wear the same marks of squalid poverty 
 which we have every where seen. Rags, filth, and beg- 
 gary meet us at every turn, and all along the road. There 
 is no escaping the sight of human misery, the most abject 
 and forlorn. Every pleasant scene is defaced by it, and 
 scarcely a moment is left for comfortable thought or agree- 
 able conversation. The whole land is cursed. Each shrub 
 and stone is made the witness of man's degradation. 
 Every where is reared the monuments of folly and wrong, 
 of pride and power, abused in reducing the " lords of crea- 
 tion" to a condition of the most graceless servitude and 
 abandonment. 
 
 T A R B E R T. 
 
 We reached Tarbert at about eleven. From an emi- 
 nence above the town, we had a delightful prospect, taking 
 
188 TARBERT. 
 
 in a long range of the valley of the Shannon, its bays and 
 sinuosities, from its mouth to the highlands about Limerick, 
 with the hills and valleys of Clare county stretched along 
 the opposite shore. A ship of war was riding at anchor 
 before the town, on which the British colors were flying, 
 and a little way to the right, a merchantman, with the 
 "stars and stripes" — welcome signals — floating in its 
 shrouds. Several smaller vessels lay in the little harbor, 
 close to the town, and one or two were drifting up the 
 river, which spreads out into a broad estuary a few miles 
 above. 
 
 Could I have banished all knowledge of the condition of 
 the inhabitants, I should have pronounced that a most 
 beautiful region of country ; for the day was fine. Soft 
 clouds were floating lightly in an azure sky ; the gentle un- 
 dulations of the valley were covered with cultivated fields; 
 and the hill-sides were green with the richest verdure of 
 spring. So long as no human being was to be seen, it was 
 a goodly sight to look upon. 
 
 But we were soon doomed to witness a sad change, for 
 no sooner had we entered the town than we were beset by 
 a flock of beggars, clamorous for something to be given 
 them. The driver left us in the street, according to the 
 fashion of the country, but pointed us to an untempting 
 hotel, where he said we could get some breakfast. We re- 
 connoitered the premises sufficiently to satisfy ourselves that 
 our chances were small, and so, to get rid of the crowd, we 
 started for the steamboat landing, a mile distant. Seeing 
 our movement in that direction, several scrambled for our 
 budgets, urgent to serve us in that way, and earn a six- 
 pence, if possible. But we did not dare to trust them in 
 the hands of such hard looking customers. 
 
 I noticed one thing which, however, is not peculiar to the 
 Irish character. The driver had an understanding with one 
 or two men to whom he delivered us, as the most suitable 
 to carry our baggage. Tliey were attached to the inn, and 
 claimed the monopoly. Having an inkling of the fact, and 
 
ITS POSITION. 189 
 
 n good deal of respect for the " free trade" doctrine, we re- 
 fused them in short order, much to their disappointment. 
 But several followed us out of the village, and two did not 
 quit us till we came near the landing. Who will say these 
 poor fellows are not willing to work ? 
 
 We did not have time to take a very thorough look at 
 the town ; we saw enough, however, to admire its beautiful 
 location, and pity the miserable condition of its inhabitants. 
 I noticed two very decent churches, and several respectable 
 looking stores and dwellings. But a large proportion of the 
 buildings present the usual signs of destitution, filth, and 
 misery which abound in all the country we have passed 
 through. 
 
 The situation of the town is very pleasant and well cir- 
 cumstanced for trade. But so far as we could judge from 
 appearances, only a small amount is done here. It is at the 
 head of a small bay, or inlet, from the Shannon, which 
 spreads out to the width of several miles towards the oppo- 
 site shore, forming Clanderlow Bay, in the county of Clare. 
 The only port of any consequence, on the Shannon be- 
 low it, is Kilrush, which is said to be a place of considera- 
 ble activity. The condition of the people, the tenui'e by 
 which lands are held, the enormous tax upon property, and 
 the consequent bad state of cultivation of the lands in this 
 region, preclude all chance of a thriving business. The 
 best advantages and fairest prospects are lost by bad man- 
 agement. 
 
 The proprietor of the town has an elegant seat standing 
 off to the right, near a mile, on an elevated site, forming a 
 bold head-land, around which flow the waters of the noble 
 river. The house overlooking an extensive plantation, and 
 a wide extent of richly diversified country, forms an object 
 of attraction, and gives variety to the scenery. It is a 
 bright spot, and could the beholder banish the thought that 
 it is tenanted by one who performs a part in the grand 
 tragedy of Ireland's ruin and disgrace, now in the fifth act 
 
190 CREATiOlV 3F LORDS. 
 
 of its most successful performance — he would greatly ad- 
 mire the taste and beauty displayed about it. 
 
 Perhaps I ought to give my readers a more distinct idea 
 of what is meant by the " proprietor" of a town, or region 
 of country ; for, except those who have had a taste of what 
 has led to " Anti-rentism," we have not, in our country, a 
 case in illustration. 
 
 A proprietor is the favored child of government, or for- 
 tune, who has come into possession of a certain tract of 
 land, the fee of which is invested in him and his heirs, or as- 
 signs for ever. Some estates are so entailed that they can 
 not be sold, nor conveyed by the act of the owner, nor in 
 payment of any just and honorable debt. They belong to 
 the family in perpetuity, the title descending, like the crown 
 of pure and absolute monarchies, to the oldest male heir. 
 Other estates descend to the nearest kin, and may be held, 
 like the crown of England, in the female as well as the male 
 hne. These are "the families of the nobility, the feudal lords 
 or chiefs, who bore rule over certain territories from time 
 immemorial, or obtained them by conquest, the right to 
 which was confirmed to natives who proved themselves 
 faithless to their own country, and submitted tamely to the 
 English yoke. 
 
 The properties of the insurgents were all confiscated by 
 English sovereigns, and bestowed upon their favorites. 
 Thus a new batch of Anglo-Irish peers was created, and the 
 foundation commenced for the more permanent persecution 
 and oppression of the people. 
 
 The partial execution of a plot to exterminate all the 
 Protestants, in 1611, which, according to Hume, succeeded 
 so far that forty thousand Englishmen were murdered by 
 Irish Catholics, gave a sufficient pretext for the general on- 
 slaught so effectually prosecuted by Cromwell, who made 
 havoc with all parts of the kingdom, except Connaught, and 
 divided up the principal estates among his friends, and the 
 partizans of English authority. In this way, not only 
 was a set of foreign lords introduced, but a feeling of re- 
 
LANDLORD AND LEASE. 191 
 
 lentless and bitter animosity generated, which has burst out 
 in several bold, but unsuccessful attempts to throw off the 
 British yoke. 
 
 In addition to the seignories of the nobility, there are 
 other estates which are owned or held by perpetual lease 
 by the gentry, and which descend, by the law of primoge- 
 niture, to the oldest male heir. These form a class generally 
 more oppressive in their exactions, and haughty in their 
 bearing, than the hereditary nobility. 
 
 Then, many of the estates are covered by two or more 
 leases. The lord leases to a middle-man, who takes upon 
 him the management of affairs. He makes himself rich by 
 re-leasing to another, at a rate above what he gives, and so 
 has no concern but to receive his rents in London, or on the 
 continent. The third having managed successfully, by 
 dividing the estates, building towns, erecting mills, working 
 mines, or in some other way, rents out to a fourth class, by 
 small lots, and con-acres, till the actual tiller of the soil, 
 after buying the right to occupy, is subjected to a rent suf- 
 ficient to sustain in splendor, the grades which ride over 
 him, beside paying all the taxes which go to support the 
 government, the army, and navy, and the myriads of pau- 
 pers in the work-houses, and soup kitchens, or who receive 
 out-door assistance. This burden is enormous. Figures 
 will hardly calculate it. J will present one case, which will 
 give some idea of the bestowment and income of proper- 
 ties. 
 
 Castle-island, noticed before, which is situated at the head 
 of the valley above Tralee, was formerly the property of 
 Geoffrey de Marisco, who built the castle, and, as a valiant 
 knight, held all the people about that region as his vas- 
 sals. In 1345 it was taken by Sir Ralph Ufford from the 
 knights of the Earl of Desmond, the family in possession 
 of a vast region of country in this part of Munster. The 
 poor knights, after capitulating to Sir Ralph, were all put to 
 the sword in cold blood. At this place, also, in 1397, Ge- 
 rald, the fourth Earl of Desmond, called *' the Poet," was 
 
192 A MISERABLE HAMLET. 
 
 eluded out of his camp and cruelly assassinated. In the 
 reign of Elizabeth, who was bountiful in her bequest of the 
 confiscated properties of the Catholics, the town and ad- 
 joining lands, were granted to the Herbert family, under 
 the title of the " Manor of Mount Eagle Loyal." The 
 tract thus bestowed, contained thirty-six thousand, nine 
 hundred and twenty plantation acres, and was valued at 
 £3,169, 12s. lOd.— over $15,000 a year! In 1733 a fee 
 farm lease, subject to a reserved rent of £l,900, (-^9,000,) 
 a year /or ever, was made of this property to five men, who 
 have since admitted a sixth, and still remains in their fami- 
 lies, by whom it is rented to under tenants. 
 
 The condition of these tenants may be learned from a 
 description of our visit to one of this class, between Tar- 
 bert and the steamboat landing. 
 
 Having to wait a few hours for the boat which was to 
 take us to Limerick, and having given away the breakfast 
 we had provided at Tralee, to the poor children along the 
 road, we found it necessary to look up something to eat. 
 It was too far to go back to the town, and besides, we could 
 not relish a dinner, ever so good, with so many hungry, 
 haggard beggars about us. So we concluded to look for 
 something in the low huis we had passed, near the bridge 
 which crosses the small inlet separating the little island 
 from the main. There might be a dozen or more low, 
 coarse stone huts, with thatched roofs, standing in a row in 
 front of the military coast-station. We inquired at each 
 of these, but could obtain no bread, milk, or meat — nothing 
 at all in the shape of food. In two or three of them there 
 was whiskey, as we judged from the signs usually attendant 
 upon such localities — a few bottles, a glass or two, and seve- 
 ral red-faced, weak-jointed, garrulous customers sitting 
 about them. Amongst them we noticed two women who 
 had not signed Father Mathew's pledge, or else had forgot- 
 ten to keep it. Our stomachs complained gnawingly at our 
 ill success, and we were induced to renew our search, by 
 inquiring where some milk could be found. We were re- 
 
A DOMESTIC SCENE. 193 
 
 ferred to a low stone house on the side hill, half a mile over 
 the bridge, where they said a cow was kept. 
 
 We returned, and incited by curiosity as well as hunger, 
 we resolved to make good use of our opportunity, and so 
 inquired at several hovels scattered along that side of the 
 inlet for bread, taking some pains to look in and see how the 
 people lived. We could not find a morsel to eat till we 
 came to the farthermost house in the hamlet. We inquired 
 at the door for milk, and, to our great comfort, were an- 
 swered favorably. We walked in. It was a rough stone 
 house, laid up in coarse mortar, and unplastered. The 
 floor, as is common, was of clay, which was broken through 
 in several places, so that the loose ground appeared. The 
 roof was formed of small round poles, covered with straw. 
 There were no girders on the walls. The room was open 
 to the roof. Unlike many we have seen, it had a large 
 fire-place and chimney. A bed stood in one corner, and a 
 rude cradle, with a child sleeping in it, near by. There 
 were two old chairs in the room, a wooden bench, a chest, 
 a rough table against the wall, and a dresser with a few 
 dishes on it. A pot was hanging over a peat fire. 
 
 The " lady of the house" received us, at first, somewhat 
 timidly, but when she learned that we were travelers from 
 America, her manner was at once changed. She appa- 
 rently felt more at ease, and at once became very social 
 and inquisitive. She offered some apologies for the man- 
 ner in which she was compelled to entertain the friends of 
 her country, who had been so generous in relieving their dis- 
 tresses, when famine was carrying off thousands all around 
 them, to an untimely grave. We spoke of our acquaint- 
 ance and experience in the struggles of poverty, and our 
 sympathy for those who are compelled to work hard and 
 suffer much to obtain an honest living. She was more 
 than ordinarily intelligent, and seemed to have a stout 
 heart to bear up under the difficulties which pressed so 
 heavily upon them. She spoke of their plans to get to 
 America, and manifested a good deal of enthusiasm at the 
 
 17 
 
194 STIR-A-BOUT. 
 
 thought that the time was not far distant when it would be 
 executed. It seemed to her like an expected dehverance 
 from captivity, and she spoke of it with all the fervor of 
 one who is hoping to gain his liberty after a long period of 
 false imprisonment. She spoke of her " childers" as doubly 
 dear because they would " goo till America," and never 
 know what it was to suffer poverty and oppression, as their 
 parents had, in the " ould coounthry." She had three 
 children, one an infant, one running about, and one at 
 school. Said she, " We're thrying to kape our boye at 
 school, for I'm tould that in yer coounthry all the childers 
 must be learned." 
 
 We assured her it was greatly desired that children 
 should be taught all the useful branches ; that the most fa- 
 vorable opportunities were provided, free for all, and that, 
 as far as we could, we made our free schools equal to any 
 others ; that the children of all classes, the rich and poor, 
 might seek an education in the same school, so that, from 
 the humblest conditions, men might rise, as they often do, 
 to the most eminent positions, as scholars, professors, and 
 statesmen. She seemed perfectly delighted with the 
 thought that her children would, some day, have such op- 
 portunities afforded them. 
 
 While our conversation was going on, she served us with 
 a basin of " stir-a-bout" from the pot over the fire, and 
 some milk, which she poured from a tin pan into our dishes. 
 One of us sat upon the bench, the other in the old chair. 
 The table was a plain board, loaded, at one end, with vari- 
 ous articles, the other, at which we sat, without any cove- 
 ring of cloth. There was as fair an exhibition of neatness 
 as could be expected under such circumstances. The milk 
 was very good, and the " stir-a-bout" passable. It was 
 made of oatmeal, like mush, or Yankee hasty-pudding. 
 There was no bread, butter, cheese, meat, or potatoes in 
 the house. Some times they bought American (Indian) 
 meal, which costs from half a crown to three shillings a 
 stone — fifty to sixty-five cents for fourteen pounds. She 
 
CONDITION OF FARMERS. 195 
 
 said they did not like it so well as oatmeal, and they could 
 not afford to use flour. Their sole dependence is upon oat- 
 meal, now that the potato has failed them. They rarely 
 ever taste meat of any kind. A pound and a half of salt 
 pork would cost more than a day's work. She informed 
 us that herself and children enjoyed pretty good health, 
 but " her man" had to work so hard that he was often at- 
 tacked with the fever — the fever and ague, which prevails 
 a good deal in these boggy districts. 
 
 Just as we had finished our humble meal the husband 
 came in from his work. He was a man of middle size, 
 well-formed, but spare and pale, from hard work, and in- 
 sufficient food. His countenance was sad, indicatins: a 
 heavy heart. But he spoke affectionately to his little boy, 
 who met him at the door, and received us with an easy 
 politeness and urbanity we have not been accustomed to at- 
 tach to the pure Irish character. We, at once, entered into a 
 conversation upon the social condition and prospects of his 
 country, and derived from him much information, concern- 
 ing the actual condition of those who are what, in our coun- 
 try, we should call the farmers. His case was a fair sample 
 of those of the better class of small farmers. 
 
 He owns his house and one acre of ground, for which, 
 however, he pays to his landlord, Mr. Leslie, the proprietor 
 of the town, £3, (815,) for the land, and £2, (8 10,) for his 
 cabin, yearly ! The pasturage of his cow costs him £l, 10s. 
 Add to all this his church rates and taxes, and the sum is not 
 less than $50. He works for his landlord at 8d. (15cts,) a 
 day, in summer; in winter, at 6d. and boards himself* 
 
 He commences work, at this season, at 5 o'clock, and 
 
 * " With large tracts of land lying uncultivated, a few miserable men are 
 employed on the roads — at what wages think you 1 One pound of yellow 
 meal — i. e. less than Id. per diem ! ! ! Great God, how is this to cure famine ! 
 
 " If this process of depopulation goes on a few months more, you may 
 
 SEEK AN ABLE-BODIED MAN IN VAIN FOR TWENTY OR THIRTY MILES OF COUN- 
 TRY." 
 
 Such is the testimony of an intelligent Conservative witness, after haviD*^ 
 --'ted FOUR counties. 
 
196 A HARD LOT. 
 
 works till 12, then at 1, and continues till 7. He takes his 
 breakfast before he starts, or goes, as he did this morning, 
 without it. He walks home one, or two miles to his dinner of 
 " stir-a-bout" and milk, and back again, for his nooning, and 
 then toils till night. If late, five minutes, he is docked 
 a quarter of a day. In this instance, he had taken no food 
 since noon on Sunday — the day before — and now sat down 
 to a single plate of oat-meal mush and a half-a-pint of milk. 
 
 Now look at the sum of this man's misery. There are 
 at best, but three hundred and thirteen working days in a 
 year. For three or four months in winter he can get no 
 work, and in rainy weather his wages stop, so he does not 
 actually receive pay for over two hundred days. But allow- 
 ing he works every day, and receives 8d a day, the highest 
 summer wages, abating nothing for rain or sickness, or win- 
 ter, and he would realize but £lO, or less than $50. From 
 this deduct his rent, taxes, and county cess, and his only 
 support is from his acre of land, and his cow. And he is 
 what would be called a prudent, industrious man, and " well- 
 to-live" as the generality of the middling interest people in 
 this country. Englishmen talk about the indolence of the 
 Irish. The accusation is false. They are as willing to 
 work at any service, as any people on earth ; and those 
 who have a chance do work, under the most discouraging 
 circumstances, with a fortitude which surprises us. 
 
 As the poor, tired, famished man sat there, and took his 
 spoonfuls of mush from a tin plate, with an iron spoon, and 
 sipped the milk from a tin cup, I looked upon his thin, pale 
 countenance, which I knew was the index of a sad and 
 crushed heart, and listened to the brief, simple tale of his 
 miseries and wrongs, and marked the fitful glimmerings of 
 a true and noble nature, when he spoke of our own country, 
 and his hope of removing to it ; I could not restrain my 
 feelings of compassion. The whole past rushed up before 
 me. I thought of the days of my boyhood, when I labored 
 as one among the sturdy yeomanry of my native land. I 
 contrasted the prosperity of that noble and independent 
 
FUTURE TLANS. 197 
 
 race — the bone and sinew of our glorious Republic, with the 
 depressed and forlorn condition of these serfs of a proud 
 aristocracy, who are reduced to the last degree of living 
 wretchedness, and wrong. The farmers of our country 
 sometimes work hard, but they have many days of leisure, 
 and always a garner full, and a broad table well furnished 
 with an abundance of the best provisions, such as an Irish 
 Earl might covet. I watched closely the changes of his 
 features, which betokened a full heart, sadly oppressed by 
 circumstances. When he spoke of his plans of going to 
 America, and we encouraged him to hope it was possible, 
 a smile beamed upon his sad countenance ; but the utter- 
 ance of a word, or proposal of a question which involved 
 the difficulties with which he was contending, wrought a 
 complete change in his appearance. 
 
 His best, and only feasible plan which he explained to us, 
 is to deny himself and family, to the very verge of starva- 
 tion, in order to save enough to pay his own passage to 
 America, leaving his family behind to subsist upon the in- 
 come of the cow. Arrived there, he hopes to be able to earn 
 enough, in one or two years, to send for his wife and chil- 
 dren. This is the only earthly hope that keeps his heart 
 from sinking into despair. He has no other source of com- 
 fort left him. To look upon his wife, and hear the prattle 
 of his children, brings him no joy, but adds to the burden 
 of his sorrows ; while he thinks their affection is to be met 
 with his inability to make them happy. But when he thinks 
 he can provide for them a good and happy home, he presses 
 them warmly to his full heart, as he did, while tears trickled 
 from his eyes, as I laid my hand on the head of his little 
 boy, which he held in his arms, and told him I hoped to see 
 him growing up among the free and honorable young men 
 in our country, with bright prospects of a long, useful and 
 happy life. He was much pleased when we inquired his 
 name, and gave him ours, and promised to befriend him 
 when he came to our country. 
 
 Mr. may be unlike the rest of his countrymen. 
 
 17* 
 
193 IRISH HOSPITALITY. 
 
 I know he is not yet so deeply oppressed as thousands are 
 and hence he may have retained more of the dignity of 
 human nature, and preserved the feeble action of those ten 
 der cords which vibrate in unmistakable tones the true 
 character of an Irish heart. We did not ask his religion. 
 There was no need of it. He showed it to us without. He 
 may be CathoHc ; he may be Protestant ; he may be Me- 
 thodist, or Independent. That is nothing. Deeper and 
 truer, and more legible than all, he convinced us that he was 
 a man, had a heart, and could feel — was a christian, and 
 and could, love ; and as such I loved him, felt for him, and 
 pitied him as my brother. 
 
 We gave them Hberally for our meal. When they saw 
 the amount they both, at once, refused it. We msisted, 
 and reluctantly they accepted it, with an expression of sin- 
 cere thankfulness which was worth infinitely more than the 
 shillings we gave them. But we had detained the man too 
 long, as we may the reader — and he hurried away to labor, 
 apparently with a heart made lighter by our visit, though 
 we found we had robbed him of a part of his dinner. 
 
 Ireland has been famed, from time immemorial, for tne 
 hospitality of its inhabitants. The pages of every work 
 written upon its history, character, or condition attest it, 
 and we have had ocular demonstration of the fact in many 
 cases. Will any say, even the most hostile Enghshman, 
 that these Irishmen are all depravity, all evil — past redemp- 
 tion, ungrateful, vindictive, inhuman ? What nation has 
 suffered so much and yet retains a more excellent quality 
 than the virtue of hospitality ? Shame on the slanders 
 showered indiscriminately upon a whole nation ! It is time 
 to have done with such injustice, to cultivate a better feel- 
 ing, and bestow a merited eulogy. 
 
 Returning over the bridge, we saw several well-dressed, 
 and apparently well-fed, men and women coming from the 
 military station connected with the coast defence. Their 
 condition and manners contrasted strangely with the scenes 
 we had just witnessed. There was a proud and supercili- 
 
REVENUE STATION. 199 
 
 ous air about them which jarred the equanimity of our feel- 
 ings, and, as the phrenologist would say, roused other or- 
 gans than those which had been so recently in a state of 
 keen excitement. Had there been a wide space between, 
 the change might have afforded relief instead of pain ; but 
 as it was, our organs of benevolence, justice, and sympathy 
 had not been quieted, and we were illy prepared to look, 
 with admiration, upon a display of wealth, and power, and 
 place. So we turned away from looking at the pretty 
 grounds about the Revenue police station, which stands 
 upon a beautifully rounded eminence, and commands a 
 charming prospect of the river and shores. We went towards 
 the long stone pier, from which we were to embark in small 
 boats, to an old hulk moored off in the river six or eight 
 rods. Owing to the great rise and fall of the tides, steam- 
 boats can not always land on the end of the elegant stone 
 pier, which extends a dozen rods into the little bay. The 
 steamers come alongside the boat moored off for that pur- 
 pose, on which the passengers and freight are stationed. 
 
 While I sat demurely upon the pier, pondering upon 
 what I had seen, and the various and strange aspects in 
 which humanity must appear to the unveiled eye of 
 Him who "made of one blood all nations of men for to 
 dwell on all the face of the earth," I was aroused by the 
 approach of a multitude of people, winding round the hill, 
 and issuing from the plantation of young trees, towards 
 the bridge. We started back to see them, as we were cu- 
 rious to know what it could mean. It was a motley group, 
 of all ages, with bags and budgets, boxes and baskets, na« 
 ked heads and bare feet, ragged clothes and smutty faces, 
 followed by several carts, drawn by asses, and loaded with 
 such ffoods as are landed on our wharves on the arrival of 
 an emigrant ship. There could not have been less than a 
 hundred, some of whom were tolerably dressed ; but the 
 majority looked very miserable. 
 
 We lingered behind for some time after they had passed, 
 engaged in conversation upon what was transpiring. It 
 
200 EMIGRANTS 
 
 was not long beiore we were startled by such a wail of wo 
 as I never heard before. We hasted to the pier, supposing 
 some fatal accident had occurred. The people were 
 crowded together, and weeping and wailing in a most piti- 
 able manner. On inquiring, we found that five or six 
 young persons were about to leave for America. They 
 were going up to Limerick in the steamer, to take a ship 
 which was to sail the next day. One of them was married, 
 and was going to meet her husband in Pennsylvania ; two 
 or three were young women, and one a young man. 
 
 I never witnessed so wild an exhibition of sorrow before. 
 They seemed to give themselves up to mere instinctive 
 passion, without any attempt to control their feelings, or 
 moderate them by judgment. At one time the whole air 
 would ring with exclamations of the bitterest grief, like the 
 rushing of a fierce tempest-wind ; then all would become 
 calm again, and they would talk and laugh, as if the happi- 
 est beings on earth. Then some one would hint that the 
 steamer was coming, or some movement would be made to 
 transport the luggage from the pier to the scow, when all 
 would break out in the most furious expressions of grief 
 Parents would embrace their children, and brothers and 
 sisters weep aloud, as if their hearts were rent with the bit- 
 terest agony. One father, who had wept as loud as any 
 other, tried to comfort himself by chiding the others for 
 being so inconsolable. 
 
 " Why," said he, in a stammering voice, " we should not 
 wape for them. Och, sure, an' are they not agoin to lave 
 this poour, wretched coounthry, where we all stharve, and 
 goo to that blissid land where the poour folks have mate to 
 ate ivery day, an' they will ?" 
 
 That was like a toast given to our country at a festival. 
 We could keep silence no longer, but at once entered into 
 a description of the advantages and comforts the industri- 
 ous poor people might have, describing the course they 
 ought to pursue when they emigrated to it ; showing them 
 
ANXIETY TO GO TO AMERICA. 201 
 
 tne folly of hiving together in our large cities, and living in 
 filth and ignorance, as too many do. 
 
 The}^ listened to us with evident satisfaction, and our 
 conversation had the effect to still their horrid yelling, till 
 it v/as announced that the steamer was winding round the 
 point just below, and would be there in a few minutes. A 
 sudden and terrific scream burst out afresh, as if each was 
 anxious to drown the other, and make his own agonies 
 most conspicuous. Men, women, and children mingled 
 their voices in wild confusion, as if all bedlam was let 
 loose. They embraced, and kissed, and wept, and bade 
 adieu, over and over again. But least affected among 
 them were those who were bidding farewell to their home, 
 their friends and country for ever. There seemed to be a 
 ray of hope and comfort for them ; for the rest, only dark- 
 ness and despair. And those about to leave, gave it as the 
 richest comfort they could off*er, that as soon as they could 
 earn it, they would send them the means of getting awa}^ 
 from the oppression and misery under which they were 
 suffering so severely. This was the richest comfort they 
 could offer ; and parents besought their children, with the 
 most earnest entreaties, not io forget them when they should 
 have enough to eat, but to remember them, and send for them 
 as soon as they could earn means enough. This was the 
 last, the very last, request that they made, even after they 
 had parted from the shore. " Don't forgit yer poor, sthar- 
 vin' mither, Mary dear, but be a good child, my darlint, an' 
 the blissed angels will kape ye." " Remimber, Bridget, an' 
 sind for us, an' ye can arne feve poound ; we'll sell the pag 
 and git the rist." 
 
 These requests followed the adieus, as if the anxiety to 
 get to America transcended all other considerations. I 
 stopped behind, till one or two boat loads had passed from 
 the pier ; and remarked that those who had parted from 
 their friends entered at once and cheerfully into conversation 
 upon the plans and prospects of getting to America. Some 
 of them thought they could go next year. Their daugh- 
 
202 TAKEN FUR AN ENGLISIlMATs. 
 
 lers could earn ten and fifteen pounds a year, and that 
 would pay the passage of father and. mother, and ons or 
 two sisters. Others expected to be obliged to wait two 
 years. One man said if he could sell his farm he world 
 go next fall. I asked him if he had a farm. He sa.i<l he 
 had one of ten acres. 
 
 " Do you own it ?" asked I. 
 
 "Och, sure, I have the right of it. I paid a hundred 
 poound for it, and I wish I could sell it for half the amoont." 
 
 " I thought you had no small farmers here, that the lords 
 and gentry owned all the land, and only leased it to you." 
 
 " An' they do ; but sure an' I own it too, foor i bought 
 the lease of it, an' pay the rint to the landlord, an' the 
 county-cess, an' the tithes, an' the poor-rates ; till, i'faith, 
 we are all poor ourselves. We are all small farmers, an' 
 poour ones too, I can assure yer riverence that. An' ye're 
 an Englishman — an agent, perhaps, an' would like to knoo 
 soome thing aboot our things ?" 
 
 " No, I am not an Englishman, nor an agent, but" — 
 
 An' ye are not an Englishman, ayeh ? The divil a bit 
 can ye decaive me in that, an' ye would be afther sayin' so a 
 twelvemonth. Sure, an' is'nt it as plain as yer hat on yer 
 head, ye are no Irishman Ye do not spake like a cooun- 
 thryman of oours." 
 
 " 1 am an American, sir." 
 
 " An' it's an Amirican ye are ? Blissed Virgin, an' it's 
 a great coounthry ye are coome from, it is. An' 1 wish I 
 was there. When did you coome to this counthry ? It's 
 a poour people we are coome to. The Lord have mercy 
 on us." 
 
 And then followed a tornado of questions and remarks 
 from him and others, about " Amiriky," those who had gone 
 there ; whether I knew " Patrick O'Flaherty, an' Michael 
 O'Grady, an' Daniel McSweeny, an' James McCarthy, 
 an' Patrick O'Sullivan, who all went from Ballybunnian, 
 Abbeyfeale, Carrinakilly, Ballinruddery, Tallymore, Arde- 
 fert Abbey, and all aboot this region, and soome from coun- 
 
A BRITISH STEAMER. 203 
 
 ty Clare, joost over the river there, who were all cliver min, 
 and shmart." When I protested I did not know them 
 he was much surprised — though some had gone to Canada, 
 and others to New Orleans. 
 
 THE SHANNON. 
 
 The steamer, a black, rusty-looking craft, came along side 
 of the hull, to which we had been conveyed in small boats, 
 and we were soon all on board. A large company of pas- 
 sengers, from Kilrush and the intermediate landings, were 
 already on the decks, and also a large amount of freight. 
 As this is the first English river steamer I have seen, it may 
 not be out of place to give a brief description of it. 
 
 The hulk is constructed much like a sloop, except it is 
 larger, and the bows and keel are sharper. The quarter 
 deck is raised two or three feet above the main. There is 
 no promenade, nor hurricane deck, nor any awning. For- 
 tunately, the sun shines in this country, very little. The 
 guards do not project over the hull, except at the wheel- 
 houses. It is like a sea steamer in every thing except size, 
 and naked as a sloop. The engine and boilers are in the 
 hold, and the pilot, or wheelsman stands in the stern without 
 any shelter from the sun, wind or rain. He has no com- 
 munication with the engineer. Both are subject to the 
 commander, who directs the former by motions and the lat- 
 ter by words, which are passed down by a man or boy, sta- 
 tioned over the engine for the purpose, who repeats the 
 captain's orders — " stop her — half speed — back her — let her 
 
 go." 
 
 The regulation and construction of these boats seem 
 to me very awkward and inconvenient. There is no dis- 
 play of taste, and little respect paid to neatness and com- 
 fort. Benches are arranged about the after deck, and 
 cushioned seats are in the cabins. But no where is seen 
 the taste and luxury found in all our passenger boats. In- 
 deed there is scarcely a " Tow-boat" on the Hudson river, 
 
204 PRIDE OF CASTE. 
 
 not better found than the best of those belonging to the 
 " DubUn Steam Navigation Company," which controls the 
 navigation of the Shannon. 
 
 The dirtiness of the boats is inexcusable, though owing 
 to the burning of turf, which is used instead of coal, it 
 might require more labor to keep it clean. But this is no 
 apology in a country where labor is cheap, and thousands 
 are starving for want of employment. Water is cheap, 
 also, and hogs are plenty, so that brushes can be had to scrub 
 the decks and dust the cabins. Filth is inexcusable, but 
 these people are so used to it that it does not annoy them 
 to travel or dwell in the midst of it. But I wonder those 
 who pretend to more refinement, do not make some attempt 
 to be decent and comfortable. 
 
 We passed about the boat to inspect the management and 
 working of it, and finally took our position on a pile of 
 freight, in order to have a better view of the country and 
 scenery along the shores of the Shannon. We happened 
 to be there when the collector came round for our fare, 
 which saved us about fifty per cent., as we were taken for 
 second-class passengers. We had not before suspected but 
 that we were as good as any body, nor felt any inconven- 
 ience on account of caste. But price sometimes begets 
 pride, poverty shame Many a man would feel himself quite 
 happy, and never dream of dissatisfaction, with himself or 
 the world, but for being over-topped by the vapory show, 
 and strutting brag of others. His equilibrium gets dis- 
 turbed and envy steals into his soul, and he feels chagrined 
 when others pretend to be greater, or smarter than he. And 
 many are foolish enough to pay their last dollar, and deny 
 themselves peace and the ordinary comforts of life, merely 
 to keep up appearances before others. This is a species of 
 " disinterested benevolence," and se/f-sacrifice, my philoso- 
 phy could never interpret. I am willing to submit to all 
 rightful exactions, and to bestow honor where it is due ; but 
 I have yet to learn how an imaginary line across the deck 
 of a steamboat can mark the division of honor and shame. 
 
AND EXISTENCE OF PRINCIPLE. 205 
 
 Such distinctions, so far as I have been able to discover, 
 do not prevail here to a greater extent than they do in our 
 country, for we mingled freely with all on board, none neg- 
 lecting or despising us for being ranked with the " second- 
 class." I do honestly think there is a prouder, and more 
 arrogant feeling in American than in European society, 
 especially in the more common relations of social inter- 
 course ; money, and religious, and political opinions beget 
 as wide divisions, and as bitter asperities at home as here, 
 except in the portions actually arrayed against each other. 
 But the pride of birth, nation, and hereditary caste prevails 
 extensively here, which is not acknowledged in our country. 
 Wealth and orthodoxy in religion and politics, are the stand- 
 ards with us. But these rarely elevate one above the reach 
 of public reprobation when guilty of wrong. There is a 
 high tone of moral and social feeling still left to us at home 
 which does not prevail so powerfully and freely here. The 
 gold and silver of our country so often changes hands that 
 it is virtually powerless. Here it is suffered to accumulate 
 and become hereditary, and therefore is more difficult of ex- 
 tinction. Still it is so circumscribed, and hampered, that 
 the advancing light of the true and right, the humane and 
 universal, is constantly sweeping away the false and selfish, 
 and virtue and nobleness, even in humble places, begin to 
 be recognised and praised, whilst vice and wrong are scorned 
 and rebuked wherever found. This proves the existence 
 and growth of a healthy tone of sentiment, which affords 
 the highest hopes for the future, and arms one with the for- 
 titude to endure and the courage to fight for further victo- 
 ries in the cause of God and humanity. 
 
 Several incidents occurred, during our voyage to Lime- 
 rick, which deserve mention, as they served to illustrate 
 traits of character and opinions, and practices which were 
 new to me. 
 
 A portion of the passengers — and the whole deck was 
 crowded — were very well dressed and appeared to be intel- 
 
 1^ 
 
206 CAUSES OF NATIONAL ANTirATHY. 
 
 ligent and refined in their manners. Perhaps one third 
 were of this class. Another third were Kke the common 
 Irish emigrants who work on our canals and railroads. The 
 remainder were a sort of middle class, who would compare 
 very well with the less educated farmers, and mechanics 
 and lahorers, in our country. Several government officers 
 were on board, civil, military, and naval. They ranked, of 
 course, number one — in their own estimation at least. I 
 was sorry to see here, as on most occasions, a degree of 
 hauteur on the part of the English towards the native in- 
 habitants, which was exceedingly unkind and to us insuffer- 
 able, because evidently calculated, if not intended, to irri- 
 tate and exasperate the feelings of this unfortunate people, 
 and keep up and increase the hostility which already pre- 
 vails too extensively, and is the proximate cause of the dif- 
 ficulties subsisting between the two countries. 
 
 It can never be expected the Irish will harmonize, and 
 dwell peaceably with the English, as the members of one 
 nation, so long as their pride is constantly tortured by every 
 officer, resident, or tourist who comes among them. De- 
 stroy a man's ambition and he will be sullen and indifferent. 
 Hector his pride and he will grow angry and resentful. An- 
 nihilate his hope, and he will become despondent or furious. 
 Oppress him with rents, tithes, and taxes till he can endure 
 no longer, and he will grow angry and rebel, or indolent and 
 starve. Then, to taunt and jeei' him in his misery, is a 
 crime and a cruelty too fiendish to be endured without a 
 curse. 
 
 I can not blame the poor, oppressed, starved Irish, for their 
 hatred towards the English. I have seen too much to say 
 there is no cause, no wrong in the complaint they make. 
 But I pity them that they are not able to meet the wrong 
 and insult with a stronger fortitude, in a more manly, digni- 
 fied, and christian manner. It is a poor way to redress one 
 wrong by inflicting another — to punish a landlord they do 
 not hke, by assassinating him, stealing behind a wall in a 
 mean and cowardly spirit, and shooting him dead. This is 
 
WRONG DOES NOT JUSTIFY RETALlATIOrC. 207 
 
 often done, I am told. I have seen reports from various 
 parts of the kingdom, detaihng numerous cases of this sort. 
 
 I own it is exceedingly provoking to a spirit crushed and 
 broken, to be insulted by one who has produced the misery 
 suffered, and still twists harder the screws which are tortu- 
 ring the very life out of him. If aught on earth could 
 ever justify vengeance, and form an apology for retaliation, 
 the Irishman has it. His starved wife and children, as they 
 turn their glazed eyes, already sunk deep in their sockets, 
 and raise their attenuated hands, imploring him for a mor- 
 sel of food, when he has none to give — his last farthing hav- 
 ing been distrained for rent, and not a potato left for wife and 
 child — do virtually, in the world's sense of it, plead with 
 him to avenge their untimely death, and punish the cruel 
 monster who has caused all their misery.* The deep heart 
 of humanity revolts at the thought of such a wrong ; and 
 yet it is well that cool judgment will not excuse the rash- 
 ness of vengeance. One wrong does not justify another. 
 
 It is better, doubtless, the poor peasant should, after he 
 has covered the famished bodies of wife and children with 
 
 * " Disease is cutting away the population at a rate not easily estimated ; and 
 the people, under the pressure of their wretchedness, are fast degenerating 
 into brutality. The poor are buried by stealth, uncoffined, and at night. 
 Parents bury their children in gardens and by-places, to hide the fact of 
 their death, ' in order that their miserable pittance of meal might not be 
 stopped.' The dogs are turning into beasts of prey ; and we have heard a 
 few days smce of a dog horrifying a parcel of men assembled at a smith's 
 forge, by rushing among them with the head of a child in its mouth, which, 
 no doubt, it had scraped out of its shallow, hasty grave." — Kerry Post. 
 
 " Matthew Fleming, of Sharavogue, found, in one of his out-houses, the 
 head of a poor man, and, on making search, he found the body in the wood 
 of said place, with the hands eaten oil". The head was brought by his dog 
 during the night. It appears the poor man, who, it is supposed was from 
 Marble Hill, county Galway, was heard to say that he would have died with 
 want on the previous day, were it not that he got relief from a farmer named 
 Dooly, of Clonaheen. The poor man died with want in the wood. The dogs, 
 as carrion, fed on his corpse. Good God, how long will our rulers be deaf to 
 these scenes, the like of which were never witnessed in a Christian country ! 
 There was an inquest held — a verdict rendered accordingly." — Tipperary 
 Vindicator. 
 
208 NOBILITY MUST BE SUSTAINED 
 
 the few sods his remaining strength will enable him to 
 spread over them, lie down by their side on the cold 
 ground and die,* than to seek retaliation on the christian (?) 
 landlord, who caused his misery, and now takes his life by 
 inches. The world would call that murder, and hang him, 
 while his is but a misfortune. Besides, to kill him would 
 do no good. It would noi bring back the life of those he 
 loved, but would pierce a new and poisoned dart into his 
 own soul. The poor individual has not the right of the 
 multitude of individuals called Government, or the conven- 
 ticle called Inquisition, to remove the evils which disturb 
 him. 
 
 The lives of his wife and children, and his own, are of 
 little worth compared with the glory of royalty, or the 
 preservation of respect for an article in the creed. The 
 poor man's family has no right to live, if the absentee land- 
 lord's darling daughters are to be denied a yard of ribbon, 
 a bouquet of flowers, a plate of ice-cream, or a Roman 
 punch, when they want them ; nor Victoria's babies re- 
 fused a single bauble they may covet. Oh, no ! that would 
 be very wrong ; a grievous offence against the moral and 
 religious sense of nobility. But it is all right to train 
 whole armies, feed, and clothe, and pay them well, and 
 march them forth to shoot their fellow-men, sack towns, 
 ravish women, and perform every hellish act ! That is all 
 
 *""We have dead bodies every where. I am obliged myself to handle 
 them, coffin them, and put them in the earth. We can not procure a suffi- 
 ciency of men to bury the dead, or of coffins to contain them. Every vil- 
 lage has dead bodies lying unburied for many days ; almost every hovel in 
 the suburbs of the town has its corpse. We can not, I repeat, get coffins, 
 boards, or men for the necessity of the moment. May God forgive our ru- 
 lers for their cruel conduct towards God's creatures here !" — Rev. Mr. Con- 
 way, P. P. 
 
 " The humane Protestant rector of Ballinrobe addresses Lord John Russell 
 to-day, through our columns, and every line of his eloquent, expressive, and 
 philanthropic letter is a voice from the dead — a voice telling of over one hun- 
 dred AND THIRTY-SIX REGISTERED DEATHS OCCUrriug iu OHC WCCk in the pOOr- 
 
 house of Ballinrobe ! !" — Dublin Journal. 
 
THOUGH THE PEOPLE STARVE. 209 
 
 perfectly right, very cool ! greatly glorious ! and the brow 
 of him who succeeds best in such noble acts, shall be 
 wreathed with the greenest laurels. The whole nation 
 shall do him reverence, and be taxed to rear equestrian 
 statues, and triumphal arches, or columns of brass or marble, 
 to perpetuate, through all time, the memory of his gallant 
 deeds ! And he who solves a problem in theological mys- 
 teries to the satisfaction of all who pretended to understand 
 and believe it before ; or brandishes about an old argument 
 to sustain the creed, shall be honored — perhaps sainted, 
 though he may never have given a crumb from his table to 
 feed a famished widow, or breathed a christian prayer in 
 the cell of a dying captive ! 
 
 Oh, Ireland, thou art a burlesque in the eyes of fat, ab- 
 sent landlords, an aspiring government, and a proud church! 
 Thy misforUtnes are great, but no wrong has been done 
 thee ! There is no help for thy sons and daughters. Thy 
 taxes, thy rents, thy tithes, thy ignorance must remain, though 
 thy children starve ; and any attempt, on thy part, to re- 
 lieve thyself, to change thy position, shall be promptly met. 
 and the screw crush thy limbs, already mangled, still more ! 
 Thou must not wince, nor utter a word ; but bear, in si- 
 lence, the sneers of those who come among you, to look 
 carelessly upon thy miseries, or impose new hardships ! 
 
 In conversation with quite an intelligent lady, who was 
 going from Kilrush to Limerick with her daughter, a very 
 modest, pretty girl, of sixteen or seventeen, I was partially 
 introduced into a new method of disposing of the affections, 
 and preparing for the future condition of a child. It had 
 become so common to hear the pitiable tales of suffering, 
 and witness the proofs of oppression, ignorance, and misery, 
 that it did really afford me great relief to converse with 
 one who did not speak of her wo, destitution, and danger, 
 but entered upon more general and agreeable topics. 
 
 When the good lady found we were from America, she 
 began a course of inquiries about our country, and the pros- 
 pects and advantages of those of some property, and fair 
 
 18* 
 
210 A mother's plans 
 
 pretensions to education and respectability. I gave her 
 what information I could, assuring her that for the indus- 
 trious and virtuous there was a fair opportunity, that na- 
 tionality was soon forgotten when a person entered into a 
 sympathy with our social institutions ; and a new-comer 
 would soon be recognised as a friend, if true to the princi- 
 ples of a common humanity. 
 
 She inquired what the prospects were for a young woman 
 like her daughter. Misconceiving her ideas, I, rather un- 
 gallantly, gave a description of the common condition of 
 Irish girls who live in our families. She did not reprove 
 me, but went on to speak of her daughter's qualities, and 
 her education, informing me that she was now taking her 
 to Limerick, to " finish her music," when she would be fitted, 
 in every particular, for a gentleman's wife. I now saw my 
 mistake, and apologized as well as I could, entering some- 
 what into a detail of the method of making matches, on the 
 voluntary system in our country. She was surprised that 
 it was not left to the parents to arrange these matters, vir- 
 tually to trade off their children to their own liking. For 
 herself, she thought her daughter would be qualified for any 
 gentleman, and she often heard the Americans made excel- 
 lent husbands; she had therefore entertained serious thoughts 
 of disposing of her real estate, and removing to America for 
 the better establishment of her daughter in married life. 
 
 I regretted I could not afford her any particular informa- 
 tion on this subject, or make her any promises of aid in 
 such a procedure. But she desired my name and address, 
 (and I believe, all those of my companions,) which I could 
 not refuse her, assuring her, at the same time, that I v/as 
 married according to my own choice, and, being of age, 
 even without a knowledge of my father till by letter I invi- 
 ted him to the wedding. She thought she should come to 
 America, as few chances of settling her daughter as she de- 
 sired, existed at home. The English she did not like — she 
 declared she should be very unwilling to wed her child to 
 
TO MARUy IIER DAUGHTER. 211 
 
 one, if ever so iJch, and few of her own countrymen were 
 worthy of her hand. 
 
 I admired the love and pride of that mother, and would 
 not disturb her fond hopes, and so joined in praise of her 
 child, which, by the way, I could do with much sincerity, 
 as she was very pretty, modest, and intelligent. But I won- 
 dered at the freedom with which the mother talked in her 
 presence, and that she remained so unconcerned, on a sub- 
 ject so nearly allied to herself and her destiny. To carry 
 forward the train of remark, and see how far it might go 
 beyond what would be conceived propriety among strangers 
 at home, I ventured to ask, if I were single, whether there 
 would be any hope for myself The mother readily assented 
 there would ; that it would give her the greatest pleasure to 
 bestow her daughter upon an American gentleman. The 
 girl looked up and smiled modestly, but did not blush. I 
 could not attribute this to coldness, nor indifference, nor 
 want of modesty ; for her whole appearance and conduct 
 was most proper, and her sensibilities and judgment truly 
 refined. Her mother had a most profound respect for 
 Americans, believed them all honest, and honorable, and 
 she made the marriage of her only child with one, an object 
 of her highest ambition. 
 
 Had I been unmarried, and anxious for a speculation, I 
 might have been induced to have made further inquiries 
 about the terms of settlement, how much could he made by 
 the operation, whether it " would pay," and so forth. But 
 with all their love of money, of which the Yankees are ac- 
 cused, I believe that beauty, character, and affection have 
 much more to do with matrimony m our country than in 
 any other. It is a matter of choice between the parties — 
 too often of fancy, without judgment, I admit ; and parents 
 do little more than advise and assent to the voluntary con- 
 tracts of their children. Here it is otherwise. Parents 
 stipulate the terms, and the children consent to the bargain. 
 Both methods may have objections, but the advantages are 
 in favor of the former, especially when people wait until 
 
212 CHARACTER THE TEST OF RESPECT. 
 
 judgment is matured, and do not rush blindly, and heedlessly 
 into connexions where there is no similarity of taste and 
 character, and discontent and misery can only be expected 
 to follow. 
 
 I was sorry to be obliged, by a sense of duty awakened 
 by the confidence reposed in me, to caution this devoted 
 mother not to place too implicit confidence in all Ameri- 
 cans, for like other people, we were not all perfect ; but de- 
 ceit and treachery, and falsehood, and faithlessness, some- 
 times finds room to hide away, and prepare to execute their 
 base machinations upon unsuspecting innocence. I assured 
 her we had many just and noble men, and our country af- 
 forded a fair chance of success to all young people who were 
 true to themselves, and their responsibilities. The field 
 lies open to all ; the poor may grow rich, and the obscure 
 honorable. The distinctions of family, and wealth are of 
 no account in the formation of social relations. Character 
 is the criterion. The sons of our most distinguished men 
 may marry the daughters of the obscurest citizens, and ex- 
 cite no wonder. Sometimes those of aristocratic feelings 
 — generally those who have themselves risen suddenly from 
 the humblest positions to affluence, and fashion — make up 
 wry faces, and utter harsh words when son or daughter in- 
 clines to choose a companion from the same ranks from 
 which they have sprung ; but, if virtuous and handsome, 
 all admire the taste, and approve the judgment of one, and 
 rejoice in the good fortune of the other, because none who 
 reflect can discover any wrong in the case. Therefore, if 
 she wished her daughter to become the wife of an Ameri- 
 can, who should be worthy of her hand, and who would be 
 likely to make her happy, she must mingle in their society, 
 on proper occasions, and wait the proposition of some lucky 
 wight who should be fortunate enough to be smitten by 
 such superior attractions as her daughter possessed, and 
 receive a reciprocal return, and find favor in her sight, be- 
 fore the throne should be occupied by another ; and then 
 
A WANDERING MINSTREL. 213 
 
 no obstacle would be in the way of her becoming the queen 
 of an American sovereign ! 
 
 There, thought I, that is about as much blarney as I am 
 capable of using, or can well spare. The good mother re- 
 ceived it with expressions of great favor, and assured me 
 she should remove to America as soon as she could arrange 
 her affairs to do it, v^^ithout too much loss in the sale of her 
 property. 
 
 Soon after coming on board, some traveling musicians 
 commenced playing several airs, among which were " Yan- 
 kee Doodle," " Hail Columbia," " The Star-Spangled Ban- 
 ner," and a variety of " Nigger Tunes," as they are called, 
 such as "Dan Tucker," "Lucy Neil," "Lucy Long," 
 " Take me back to Old Virginny." I could not fail to re- 
 mark the pleasure which these tunes seemed to afford 
 others, as well as ourselves. We felt as if we were at home 
 during their performance. When the musician came 
 round with his cap for a contribution, we asked him how 
 he came to play co many American tunes. 
 
 " Och," said he, " an' did'nt v^e knoo ye're Amirikins ; 
 an' fa'th, an' would'nt we do somethin' to plase ye, who 
 coome froom that blissid coounthry, which fed us when we 
 were stharvin'." 
 
 " But," said I, " you ought to play ' God save the Queen,' 
 for she is your sovereign." 
 
 " The divil a bit do I care for the Quane ; it's a small 
 bit o' praise that I'd be afther givin' her, anyhoo. It's 
 Amiriky that I loove, it is, moore than England, an' all the 
 kings and quanes in the woorld." 
 
 " Yes, but you should be true and loyal." 
 
 " Is't true and loyal to oour opprissors, ye would have 
 us ? Sorra a bit uv it will I ba afther giving them, at all, 
 at all. Ay eh, praise the min that make us stharve ? Ye 
 do noo such thing in yer coounthry, an' I knoo, I do ; an' 
 it's that same that I'll not do aither, begorra." 
 
 " Well, here's a sixpence for your blarney ; and you 
 
214 IRISH OPINION 
 
 must play some of the tunes over again, or else give us 
 some Irish airs." 
 
 " An' sure, an' it's noo blaarnay, that I'm afther giving 
 ye, at all. It's the thruth that I'm tellin' ye, when I spake 
 well o' Amiriky ; that same blissed coounthry, an' the pa- 
 ple in it. May the blissed Virgin presarve it till I git there, 
 afoore lang." 
 
 " But how did you come to know we were Americans ?" 
 
 " Och, sure, an' are not yer coollars turned down, as noo 
 gintilmin but Amirikins have 'em." 
 
 A little piqued that our nationality was so easily de- 
 tected, only because it might prevent us from mingling, 
 with the freedom we desired, among all classes, and secu- 
 ring a confidence which would enable us to form a true 
 estimate of what we saw, I remarked to him he had better 
 play some British tunes, to humor the pride of the English- 
 men, and they would give him more liberally. 
 
 " The divil a farthin' moore will they be afther givin' 
 me, nor that naither, an' I would play them all the tunes in 
 the kingdom. It's not the same I'd plase, at all. Begorra^ 
 I'll not sthain my shooul with so great a sin, as to plase the 
 min that oppriss and ruin me coounthry " 
 
 This was said with an air of defiance, quite common 
 with a class of the people, when speaking of England. 
 An inveterate hostility is cherished towards that na- 
 tion, and all their misfortunes and misery are set to the ac- 
 count of English interference — high rents, heavy taxes, po- 
 tato rot, and all. No matter if the landlord is an Irishman, 
 and the middle-man lays on the exorbitant rents, or the 
 small farmers charge enormously for con-acres. England 
 is at fault for every thing. But for the union all would go 
 well. " Repeal" that, and the waste lands and undrained 
 bogs would produce bountifully, and all Ireland would be a 
 paradise again, as in the days of the great Saint Patrick ! 
 
 Such is the dream of these wretched people. They are 
 ignorant, and, consequently, easily led by those who have 
 their confidence, and blind and bigoted when once an opi- 
 
OF ENGLISH GExXEROSITY. 215 
 
 nion is formed. They have been made to beheve that 
 England is their bitterest enemy — that the government has 
 no concern for their welfare, only to over-ride them with 
 tithes and taxes, and force them to renounce their religion, 
 or flee their country and leave it for an inheritance to the 
 Protestants! If a school is established, it is only to con- 
 vert their children from the true faith ; if an improvement 
 is attempted, it is merely to increase the rent ; if a poor- 
 house is built, it will add to their taxes and do no good. 
 They are disheartened and distrustful ; and, so often cheat- 
 ed, and so long oppressed, th^y have become suspicious 
 of every body, even of one another. 
 
 It is to be regretted that those who claim to be their su- 
 periors, conduct themselves in a manner calculated to be- 
 get and sustain such feelings. There is exhibited little of 
 that kind forbearance, and benevolent concern, which a na- 
 tion so long and deplorably depressed should receive at the 
 hands of enlightened and christian rulers, and rich and 
 " noble" landlords. Few evidences are given of any other 
 disposition than that of enmity and unconcern, by those 
 whose business it should be to exercise mercy and gene- 
 rous aid towards a crushed and disheartened people, to 
 raise them from their degradation, and guide them into the 
 paths of intelligence, honor, and prosperity. 
 
 SCENERY ALONG THE SHANNON. 
 
 The scenery along the Lower Shannon is varied, and, in 
 some places, romantic. It would be beautiful, actually 
 charming, if one could banish the sight of destitution and 
 misery which every where meet the eye. 
 
 The mouth, from Kerry-head to Loop-head, is ten or 
 twelve miles wide, and the shores about the bay are bor- 
 dered with caverned cliffs, and swelling hills, sundered by 
 deep glens, narrow inlets, or boggy vallies, with tiers of 
 mountains rising in the distance. The caves of Ballybun- 
 nian, wo i out by the mterminable fretting and dashing of 
 
216 GLYNN. 
 
 the restless ocean, are objects of curiosity to the geologist 
 and traveler, and the views about the Doon bay are re- 
 markably beautiful. As we ascended the river the jutting 
 cliffs, in some places rugged and precipitous, the rounded 
 headlands, which divide the succession of small bays, the 
 soft, green islets, the ruined castles and small villages dotted 
 along the shores, which look respectable in the distance, 
 with here and there the aristocratic seat of some lord or 
 gentleman, with fine fields, smooth lawns, and extensive 
 plantations, added much to the variety and beauty of the 
 scenery. But the small turf-boats, with dirty, brown sails, 
 managed by ragged and wretched boatmen, and every 
 where the traces of poverty and neglect, so mar the beau- 
 ties of creation that one can not contemplate them without 
 pain. 
 
 A few miles above Tarbert we passed the village of 
 Glynn, near which was pointed out to us a rather elegant 
 seat, the property of Sir, or Lord, or Hon. Fitzge- 
 rald, " the Knight of Glynn." There are also several very 
 pretty villas about the town, which, at this season, make a 
 fine appearance, as if they might be the abodes of wealth 
 and rural contentment. But that a family can find peace 
 and happiness in the midst of so much misery as abounds 
 in all directions, seems to me impossible ; for, if they have 
 a heart to enjoy, they must have a soul to pity, and such 
 deplorable scenes of destitution as must meet their eyes at 
 every turn, must either overwhelm them with sorrow, or 
 steel their finer feelings against all impressions which help 
 to form the sum of human happiness. 
 
 An intelligent gentleman, of whom I learned much con- 
 cerning this country, pointed out to me the ruins of Glynn 
 castle, and told me a story about a brave defence made 
 there by some bold knight, more than two hundred years 
 ago, who was finally overcome, and the whole garrison 
 cruelly butchered by the English under General Carew. 
 Farther on, he designated several other interesting places, 
 the villas of the gentry, the demesnes of lords, castles and 
 
FEUDAL CASTLES NEW ENGLAND SCHOOL-HOUSES. 217 
 
 villages, with interesting scraps of history, and legends. I 
 did not note even the names of all of them, but I remem- 
 ber Foyne's Island and Mount Trenchard, on the south, 
 the elegant and romantic seat of some lord, the village of 
 Loughill, at which we took off two boat loads of passen- 
 gers, Cahircon, and several fine demesnes on the Clare 
 shore. 
 
 Winding between some small islands, we entered into 
 the broad estuary of the Shannon, which spreads off to the 
 north, at the head of which is the town and castle of Clare. 
 This bay changes the aspect on the north. The craggy, 
 bleak limestone hills cease, and a broad and beautiful val- 
 ley stretched off to the northeast, bordered by a gentle ele- 
 vation, which is the more remarkable for a growth of large 
 timber which covers it, forming a great novelty in a coun- 
 try almost entirely destitute of forests. On this side, the 
 gray walls of several old castles, covered with ivy, were 
 pointed out by name. 
 
 Castles have become so frequent, that I no longer feel 
 interest enough in them to remember their names. The 
 whole country is full of them. They are as thick as 
 school-houses in New England, but have never protected 
 half as many noble hearts, nor did a ten thousandth part as 
 much service to the country or the world. These were 
 but the moral nurseries of feudal tyrants, who oppressed 
 their vassals, and took shelter in them from the fury of 
 rival clans. Those are the free nurseries of sovereigns — 
 God's noblemen, who breathe the air of freedom, and pro- 
 claim liberty to all. These enslaved the masses, and sus- 
 tained a sham nobility by oppression. Those break off the 
 chains of ignorance, and help the weakest rise to wealth 
 and honor. Who can doubt the results ? Here is a na- 
 tion of bondsmen, crushed in spirit, shrouded in ignorance, 
 bigoted in religion, uncared for by others, and unable to 
 help themselves — famished, starved, and dying. There the 
 humblest have knowledge ; all minds are free to examine 
 every subject, and reject or approve, sustain or condemn ; 
 
 19 
 
218 BUNRATTY. 
 
 and a fair field is open to all, where each may run his own 
 race unencumbered, and expect honor or shame, wealth or 
 poverty to be meted out according to his deserts. Here a 
 few noblemen and gentry are born to titles and riches, 
 which can not be sequestered for an honest debt or deep dis- 
 grace, but go down by hereditary law — divine right — to the 
 next akin, until some royal mandate changes the succession. 
 There no claim of primogeniture can be sustained, and no 
 act of bankruptcy save from disgrace the man who 
 would cheat an honest creditor. Here a man glories in an 
 elevation to which he is born, and occupies without merit, 
 living in splendor while thousands famish about him — mere 
 tenants-at-will. There a man is promoted for what he does 
 and deserves, and others praise or shun him as they please 
 — no one act can shield him from censure and disgrace 
 for vices afterwards committed. Such are some of the 
 contrasts between an old Irish feudal castle, and a New- 
 England school-house. Who has not a preference ? 
 
 I mention the grim old castle of Bunratty, near which is 
 an elegant modern mansion, because of its fine appearance, 
 and from the fact that it is still occupied as a police bar- 
 racks, thus retaining something of its original character — 
 the power to overawe the wretched people and keep them 
 in subjection. From a distance it appears to be one of the 
 largest, most curious, and stately piles we have seen, and 
 worthy the renown of the de Clares who built it, and bore 
 rule along the north shore of the Shannon for a long period. 
 
 On the the south, a mile or two up a small river, which 
 is navigable, is the town of Askeaton. The gruff walls of 
 the castle rise from a solid rock in the river to the height 
 of near a hundred feet, and are in a tolerable state of ruin. 
 This was another stronghold of the Desmonds, and was 
 blown up by Sir George Carew at the time he overrun this 
 part of Munster. Near the river are the remains of a 
 Franciscan monastery. The situation of these ruins, and 
 the town, is very beautiful, and, in any country but Ireland, 
 would be a resort for the lovers of the grand and beautiful 
 
HOSTILITY OF RACES. 219 
 
 in rural scenery. The naked, craggy, and bleak mountains 
 stretching off in the rear, tiie lofty summit of Knockpatrick, 
 which commands an extensive view of the whole valley of 
 the Lower Shannon, including a large portion of the coun- 
 ties of Limerick, Clare and the north of Kerry, with parts 
 of Tipperary and Galway, overlooking inumerable hills and 
 valleys, castles, villas, hamlets and villages, with a still 
 greater number of mud hovels, and miserable cottages, gives 
 great variety and strong contrast to the scene. 
 
 The town itself is not very thrifty, though fair for the 
 west of Ireland. The greatest beauties are outside ; and I 
 was told there were many places of great interest in the 
 history and legends of the country situated in the vicinity, 
 such as Drumdeely castle, close on the bank of the Shannon, 
 the parochial church, a part of which is in ruins, the village 
 of Shana-golden, near which are the ruins of Manistir-na- 
 Gillagh, and Shanet castle, where originated the famous 
 war-cry of the clans of Desmonds, " Shanet-a-boo," which 
 rung through Munster in opposition to the " Crom-a-boo" 
 of the Fitzgeralds, of Leinster. The interference of the 
 English in favor of the latter, who more readily accepted 
 the reformed religion, succeeded in a conquest against the 
 former, who were mostly slain or expatriated, and the vast 
 estates given to the former ; and thus a new set of oppres- 
 sors was created. 
 
 It will be found, all through the west of Ireland, that 
 many of the noblemen who were originally French, were 
 forcibly supplanted by the English who have never felt much 
 real sympathy for the people, simply holding them as vassals. 
 Hence the cause of the frequent disturbances, and the con- 
 tinual hatred, dissatisfaction, discord, and misery which pre- 
 vails in this portion of the country. 
 
 The races have not coalesced ; no genuine friendship sub- 
 sists between them. The small farmers and laborers look 
 upon the landlords as their worst enemies, whose sole ob- 
 ject is to wrench from them the last farthing they can get. 
 And in their hate and spite, they, like all others actuated by 
 
220 NEGLIGENCE OF TENANTS. 
 
 wrong and vengeful motives, deprive themselves of the 
 means of comfort, for the mere fun, it would seem, of 
 trying to torment others. They will not improve their 
 lands for fear the landlords will raise on the rents — never 
 considering that, if they should make an acre, rented at 10s. 
 which now produces not over £3 or £4 income, pro- 
 duce £l2 or £l5 — as much land is capable of doing — they 
 would be the crainers although the landlord should increase 
 the rent to 20s. or 30s. They have so much respect for 
 principle, or rather, such a bitter malignity against the 
 landlords, that they prefer to dwell in filth and starve, than 
 to do any thing to benefit themselves if their oppressors are 
 to reap any advantage from it at the same time. 
 
 This is about the only explanation which can be given 
 of the poverty and social degradation of a large portion of 
 the people. There are other causes, no doubt, which con- 
 duce, indirectly, to the same unfortunate and miserable 
 state of things. And it may be as well stated here as any 
 where, that the wicked negligence, oppression, and tyranny 
 of many landlords, and their worse agents, have tended in 
 a great degree, to produce this condition. Many landlords 
 rarely come to see their properties, and know virtually 
 nothing about their lands or tenants. Several never visit 
 the country in their lives, and very many never more than 
 once or twice, and they do not stay but a few days — nor 
 then give half the attention to the real condition of the 
 people that an observing tourist would in half the time. 
 They live in London, or on their estates in different parts 
 of the kingdom, or, it may be, at Interlarken, or some where 
 else on the continent, where they can live cheap and cut a 
 big dash, with their limited incomes ; never reflecting that 
 by coming to live upon their properties, and devoting some 
 attention to the science of agriculture, ditching, manuring, 
 and improving their lands, they could enrich themselves, 
 and improve the condition of their tenants, and soon be 
 able to pay off their honest debts, and make a fair and hon- 
 
LANDLORDS AND AGENTS. 221 
 
 orable appearance amongst honest, honorable, and truly 
 Christian people. 
 
 As it is, they trust all to heartless agents, whose sole ob- 
 ject is to wrench out, each year, all they possibly can, both to 
 secure their own per centage, and satisfy their needy employ- 
 ers, caring no more for the tenants than for beasts. Eve^y 
 thing is trusted in their hands, and they, by the habits of 
 their lives, are rarely men of comprehensive and far-seeing 
 views — of generous and forbearing souls. Their business, 
 and the men they have to deal \^ith, both above and be- 
 low, disqualify them from giving much attention to any 
 thing like improvement ; for they have little confidence in 
 either, nor much in themselves, except to make what they 
 can out of both, while entrusted with a stewardship. They 
 know the landlords care for little but their ease, and rents, 
 and roast beef, and plum-pudding, and pot of beer, and a 
 gay time at the club-room ; and that thejr tenants can not 
 hate them much worse if distrained every quarter for their 
 rent. So they manage, by going armed, to collect the op- 
 pressive tributes. 
 
 THE TENURE OF LANDS A CAUSE OF MISERY. 
 
 It can hardly be expected the small farmers, mere 
 •' tenants-at-will," will enter into any comprehensive sys- 
 tem of improvements. The tenure by which they could hope 
 to reap any thing like a fair reward for their labor, is so 
 precarious, so subject to the whim and interest of the land- 
 lord or agent, that there is poor encouragement for them. 
 Besides, few have either the knowledge or the means to 
 carry out any system of improvement which presents a 
 prospect of future recompense for their outlay, even where 
 they have leases of five, ten, or twenty* years. 
 
 In some places where we have been, such leases exist, 
 but in almost every instance a rene^Vtil of them is refused, 
 and the tenantry is ejected to make room for higher rents, 
 or another class, more suitable to the landlord or agent. 
 
 19* 
 
222 IRISH AND AMERICAN LANDLORDISM. 
 
 In a vast many cases a large amount is realized by re- 
 leasing the mere right to live on the land for a fixed time. 
 The competition for such a privilege is often very great, te- 
 nants being frequently obliged to give as high as £l5 or £20 
 an acre, when the lease has only a few 3^ears to run. One 
 gentleman told me of an instance in Ulster, where the te- 
 nant himself sold out his " right," which had but nine years 
 to run, for £l2, (S60,) an acre, the land paying a rent of 
 30s. (^7.50,) an acre, annually. Pretty dear land we 
 should call that in our country.* 
 
 There is, among the " squatters" on our new lands, a 
 similar practice of selling out their " betterments," includ- 
 ing all the improvements they have made upon it. But 
 the " tenant-right," where it exists, includes nothing but 
 the mere peaceable holding of a certain property for a spe- 
 cified period. All the improvements belong to the owner 
 of the soil. 
 
 Some idea can be formed of Irish landlordism, by the 
 tenants of the Patroon, who have, of late, made so much 
 noise about " anti-rentism." But they have not a tithe of 
 the reason for complaint of the best tenants here, although 
 a somewhat similar principle is concerned. The exclusive, 
 hereditary, and anti-republican system of our American 
 lords is not secured by quite so many feudal tenures nor 
 hedged up quite so securely from the invasion of moral 
 sentiment, and the spirit of equal rights, as is the landlord- 
 ism of Ireland. The same feeling burns deeply in Irish 
 hearts, but they are so crushed that no opportunity is given 
 for any thing like a fair expression of it. 
 
 In our western States, if a man " squats" on a piece of 
 land which has not yet come into market, improves it, builds 
 a house, and provides himself a home, he is understood to 
 have a sort of " pre-emption right." He and his neighbors 
 
 *" I have known a tenant bid for a farm tha? I was perfectly well acquainted 
 with, worth £50 a year. I saw the competition get up to such an extent, 
 that he was declared the tenant at iI450." — Evidence of Mr. Hurley, of 
 
 TrALEE, BEFORE PoOR COM., p. 851. 
 
SaUATTERS IN NEW STATES. 223 
 
 understand that nobody has any right to molest him. And 
 if any avaricious speculator should have the temerity to 
 come in competition with him at the land-sale, and run the 
 price above what is understood to be a fair value of the 
 land, and so secure the fee to it, he would find it a difficult 
 matter to obtain the peaceable possession, without first puj^- 
 chasing the consent of the "squatter." He and all the 
 neighborhood would rise, at once, against the intruder, 
 whose purse happened to be a little longer than the poor 
 man's whose sweat had given to the land all the value that 
 raised it above the simple government price. This may be 
 called a " resistance of the law," but, in its working, it is 
 the exhibition of a high moral sentiment, vastly more just 
 and conservative than the legal enactments of partisan 
 legislators, passed by men no less susceptible to the influ- 
 ence of private interest than the honest, humble, and 
 simple-hearted people, who have a sense of what is justice 
 between man and man, and who will not willingly allow 
 their homes and hard earnings to be wrenched from them 
 without resistance. 
 
 The result of this " forcible resistance of law and order" 
 has had a most excellent effect in the settlement of our new 
 States. Adventurers who were willing to pursue an honor- 
 able vocation, and, by their own labor, " turn the wilderness 
 into a fruitful field," and make the " desert blossom as the 
 rose," felt a degree of security that they should not be mo- 
 lested, that their neighbors would stand by them and prevent 
 their forcible expulsion from their property on the land, by 
 greedy and heartless speculators who cared for nothing but 
 to grow rich upon other people's earnings. In few, or no 
 instances have these rough and hardy borderers, the pioneers 
 of civilization, been guilty of any refusal to meet the price 
 of land as fixed by government, though they would fight to 
 the last drop of blood, to prevent the invasion of their rights 
 by a set of blood-hound speculators who have tracked 
 them, at every remove, to their forest homes, and waited for 
 another opportunity to pounce upon them and drive them 
 
224 DISCRIMINATING REVENGE. 
 
 from their improvements without a fair recompense for their 
 labor. All true growth in this world is from the seed to 
 the tree. And this principle has become law, and given 
 "pre-emption rights" to all actual settlers on unsold lands. 
 
 A similar principle T find in this country, cherished, or 
 rather lurking, in the hearts of the people. But it lacks 
 form, and method, manifesting itself only in cowardly acts 
 of assassination, or a dogored indifference to all the rational 
 and decent comforts of life — willing to starve themselves 
 and families for the sake of tormenting their landlords. It 
 is no uncommon thing to hear of the shooting of land- 
 lords or their agents, under circumstances apparently the 
 most aggravated on both sides. I have read of several such 
 occurrences since I have been in the country, and had them 
 confirmed by the most unquestionable authority. I had sup- 
 posed the reports were fictions, for I did not suppose that, in 
 a country so watched by armies of soldiers and policemen, 
 there could be any danger of personal violence, such as 
 often goes across the water in the newspapers. But I find 
 it all confirmed, and in its worst possible aspects. Indeed, 
 it is no infrequent thing for a landlord or his agent, to be 
 shot dead while riding in his carriage to or from church, or 
 about his regular business. I have felt some alarm at our 
 own safety in traveling in so savage a country, for actually 
 the cases of shooting are more frequent here than on the 
 borders of our Indian territories. 
 
 But, on inquiry, I have found that there is a careful dis- 
 crimination in the objects of this fatal spite ; that it is not 
 against a class, a reckless hate and violence, but in retalia- 
 tion for personal injuries, which they honestly believe to be 
 the cause of the suflfering which has destroyed their wives 
 and children, and threatens their own lives. It is a sort of 
 desperation which frequently accompanies starvation.* 
 
 * " Take away the greatest cause of agitation ; give leases and act fairly 
 by the tenant, and the agitator's occupation is almost gone." — Foster's Let- 
 ters, p. 141. 
 
NEGLIGENT LANDLORDS. 225 
 
 The case stands thus. The principal — almost the entire, 
 support of the common Irish population, is derived from the 
 cultivation of the land. If a man can get a few roods, at 
 any thing like a fair rent, he is satisfied, and counts himself 
 happy ; he goes to work with a good heart, according to his 
 best knowledge, secures a hvelihood, and pays his rent 
 promptly, if he is fortunate enough to have good land, favor- 
 able seasons, and a high market. But here are the contin- 
 gencies which produce Ireland's miseries and ceaseless agi-. 
 tation, and lead to the unlawful and inhuman acts of vio- 
 lence before alluded to. 
 
 In the first place, few Irishmen have good landlords, or 
 get their lands at fair rents. I do not mean to say that the 
 landlords — be they English, Irish, or Scotch, are necessarily 
 bad men, or inhuman. I speak of them as landlords ; in 
 which capacity, I understand them to be morallv under 
 solemn obligations to do right by themselves, their families, 
 their tenants, the neighborhood, and the nation. For what 
 has God, (?) or the government, entrusted them with the ex- 
 clusive right to the soil, from which man and beast are fed, 
 if it is not to make it a source of productive increase to the 
 means of life and comfort ?* 
 
 ** Where ordinaky attention to an estate, and to a tenantry has been ex- 
 hibited, we have seen the value of the estate " trebled in eighteen years," and 
 the people made comfortable and happy." — Ibid, p. 414. 
 
 * " The SMALL GENTRY, or ' squireens,' as they are called — men of £300 
 or £400, ($1,500 or $2,000) a year strengthen these failings by the most 
 ridiculous pride. Such men are too proud to send their son's into counting- 
 houses of merchants, to learn some business and fight their own way as good 
 citizens, and they are too poor to bring them up to professions ; but they will 
 raise heaven and earth in patronage-hunting to get a son into the Post Office, 
 at £80 or £100 a year. Their pride is sufficient to prevent their seeking inde- 
 pendence by praiseworthy and honest industry and' enterprise, but is not suffi- 
 cient to prevent their becoming slaves and sycophants of every ' great man,' 
 for the most paltry advantages." — Ibid, p. 166. A two edged sword, in un- 
 skilful hands: Why did not the " Times Commissioner" propose a way they 
 might work — yes — work " with their own hands," and till the waste lands 
 and make them productive ] And why do not the great gentry or Squir- 
 M AGNATES, and noblemen, show an example to humble men ? We Americana 
 
226 RIGHTS IN THE SOIL 
 
 Very well ; they are too rich, or proud, or lazy, to till the 
 land themselves, and so entrust the management of it to 
 others, retaining to themselves the right io an income suffi- 
 cient to supply their necessities and luxuries, and enable 
 them to maintain a degree of ease and splendor suited to 
 their tastes or the circles in which they move. Now all this 
 I will not object to, for so is the practice of the world. But 
 I might go back and question their titles, asking in whose 
 name they got possession of those fifty, or one hundred, or 
 two hundred thousand acres of God's earth, made for human 
 homes — for " the earth is the Lord's and the fulness there- 
 of," and he *" has made of one blood all nations of men, for 
 to dwell on all the face of the earth," so that each man has 
 a right to life, and the means of it which come out of the 
 ground, provided he uses proper diligence to obtain it. At 
 least, society has no right to throw about restrictions to ex- 
 clude him from such opportunity. 
 
 I may be told it was William, or Henry, or James, 
 or Cromwell, or Charles II, or Elizabeth, or, if preferred, 
 the O'Neils, the Desmonds, the McCarthys, the O'Briens, 
 or even Brian Boroimhe, or Saint Patrick, whose gracious 
 benignity secured to their noble progenitors the exclusive 
 right to the soil in perpetuity forever. But how came they 
 by such power over God's heritage, to slice up His earth, 
 which was made for all His children as much as air and 
 water, and parcel it out with such discriminating par- 
 tiality ? If they assume to rule in His name, and by 
 divine right, as His appointed emissaries, they should be 
 careful to obey His revealed will, lest they awake His dis- 
 pleasure ! But this is not the point. I go not backwards 
 now to inquire into titles, because the aristocratic will not 
 hear me, or will feign not to understand me ; and it would 
 do the rest no immediate good if they did. 
 
 I return, then, to the position which the landlord takes, 
 
 look upon the assumptions of British nobility as a very small — but exceeding- 
 ly wicked thing. 
 
Ireland's responsibility. 227 
 
 that, being in possession of the fee to a certain tract of 
 God's earth, he has a right to a support from it ; nay, to all 
 the income he can make it yield him. Very well! So 
 much we yield him, not because it is right, but because it 
 is law and custom. He can ask no more. Now, what 
 does he do with his vast heritage of land ? Does he come to 
 it, and, like a prudent and wise man, provide for its best 
 management, so as to yield him a rich income ? Does he 
 overlook it, and inquire into the best means of recovering 
 what is waste and unproductive ? Does he look after his 
 tenantry, and see that they are, first of all, made comforta- 
 ble, and qualified to work to advantage for the best good 
 of the property ?* It would seem that mere self-interest, 
 the narrowest (but perhaps strongest) motive to action, 
 would prompt him to do so, to say nothing about the 
 broader principles of justice, humanity, and religion. 
 
 But no ; he does no such thing ; probably not in one 
 case in a hundred. He stays away, and knows virtually 
 nothing of the condition of his estates, or of his ten, or 
 twenty, or a hundred thousand tenants— -has never seen 
 either, and never wants to, so long as he gets rent enough 
 to support him some where else. He was born out of the 
 country, is alien to all upon or about his property, and 
 though an Irishman, he has learned to hate his country, 
 
 * " The law of entail and settlement charges on property often so cripple the 
 landowners that they are frequently, as compared with their nominal property, 
 poor men ; extravagant habits, family pride to live befitting the nominal in- 
 come, load the estates of such men with incumbrances, until, at length, the 
 DERNIER KfisORT of an Irish landlord is taken: he flies to Florence and lives 
 at an hotel, where at the table d'hote he can boast of his Irish acres — or he 
 resides in London, in lodgings, and in obscurity. In either case, there is no 
 capital for the benefit of Ireland. In the one place capital can never be cre- 
 ated, in the other case it is sunk and wasted. The land is left to the manage- 
 ment of agents, or it gets into the hands of the receivers in Chancery — in either 
 of which cases there is but one object — to extract as much rent as possible. 
 With such a state of things, the want of employment, the distress and misery, 
 and the disturbances of Ireland, under whatever name, are not difficult to be 
 accounted for." — Foster's Letters on Ireland, p. 67. 
 
228 EVIL OF ABSENTEE LANDLORDS. 
 
 and despise his countrymen. He has heard, through his 
 venal agent, a most horrid account of the savageness of 
 the inhabitants, made so by his own abusive conduct, or 
 cruel neglect, and does not care to visit them.* 
 
 Every where we hear censures heaped upon absentee 
 landlords. t Now, if they were at home, where they be- 
 long, looking after their interests, they would not be for 
 ever draining the country of all its income, to squander it 
 at foreign courts, and thus leave it impoverished, but would 
 spend it where it would do some good, enrich the country, 
 and increase the value of the properties and the comforts 
 of the people. J 
 
 The second evil I mention, as a prolific cause of the present 
 misery of Ireland, is the conduct of the agents who stand be- 
 tween the owner and cultivator of the soil. In some cases, 
 these agents are appointed by the landlord and act directly 
 
 * " We are under agents and bailiffs, who have no feeling for the people, 
 our landlord being an absentee nobleman. He never comes near us to see if 
 we are oppressed or tyrannized over. We should have some hope if our land- 
 lord would visit us once a year, that we should have some redress." — Fos- 
 ter's Letters on Ireland, p. 153. 
 
 t " To speak plainly : to hear a nation bawling out misery and beggary, 
 and to see such numbers of her wise and good children fluttering about the 
 world in splendor and magnificence, seems, at first sight, an irreconcilable 
 contradiction. People that have common sense, humanity, and honesty them- 
 selves, will be apt to suppose them in others, and can hardly believe that so 
 many noblemen and gentlemen of Ireland can riot and blaze abroad, while so 
 many thousands of their fellow-citizens are starving for want of their help at 
 home, and their native country is reduced to beggary and a deadly consumption. 
 ' Even dogs,' they say, ' when sick, know their own physic, and take it effectu- 
 ally ;' and I therefore heartily wish many of our people, at home and abroad, 
 may, for the future, give us some proofs of their having some share in this natural 
 instinct as may make us full amends for the want of all rational management 
 of themselves and their substance, to prevent our ruin." — Preface to Dr. 
 Madden's work, " Reflections and Resolutions for the gentlemen of 
 Ireland." — Ibid, p. 67. 
 
 t " In the words of another, ' it (absenteeism) is the ruin of the country. 
 We have not a resident landlord within ten miles of us. Though there is be- 
 tween £50,000 and £60,000 a year taken out of the neighborhood, we do 
 not get £100 of it returned.' " — Ibid, p. 100, 
 
AGENTS AND MIDDLE-MEN. 229 
 
 for him, which is, perhaps, the least objectionable method, 
 taken as a whole, by the absentee proprietor. But cases 
 are not wanting of their faithlessness, both to theii; em- 
 ployers and the tenants. 1 have had the most undoubted 
 proofs of the most wicked and inhuman treatment of these 
 task-masters, in numberless instances ; and there are not 
 wanting evidences of their treachery and dishonesty to the 
 landlords themselves. On large estates, numerous sub- 
 agents are employed, who increase the miseries, and feel 
 less compunction, inasmuch as they feel less responsibility.* 
 The dishonesty and knavery of the agents are bad enough, 
 heaven knows ; but it is not half equal to the oppressions 
 of the " middle-men," as they are called. This is a class 
 of petty landlords, a kind of stock-jobbers, who hire large 
 tracts of land at cheap rents, and then underlet them in 
 small portions, at enormous prices, f This is done in vari- 
 
 * " The landlord and agent are both absentees, and it is a great loss to the 
 tenantry upon a large estate, when it happens so. I think it would be better 
 if one or both of them were living upon the estate." — Land Com., p. 159. 
 
 " You may say nineteen-twentieths of this barony are owned by ab- 
 sentees." — p. 144. 
 
 t " The majority of the landlords are non-residents, and very much of the 
 land i-s let to middlemen on leases. The land is thus taken out of the manage- 
 ment of the landlord, and the middle-man, having no permanent interest in it, 
 covers it with a pauper tenantry, from which he exacts a competition rent, 
 and at the end of his term renders it up to the landlord to deal with as he 
 can. The land being generally hilly and rocky, is let by the cow's grass and 
 not by the acre. A tenant can live pretty comfortably on about ten cows' 
 grass. * Land ranges from £2 to ^^4 rent, by a cow's grass, according to the 
 quality and quantity of the pasture.' (Evidence of Mr. Eugene O'Sullivan, 
 of Westcove, four miles from Derrynane, O'Connel's residence.) The sub- 
 division, however, amongst the tenants, especially near the sea-shore, has gone 
 on to such an extent, that most of them have not more than a cow's grass 
 a-piece to live upon. This will give a clue to their poverty. A cow, on fair 
 good land, in this part of Kerry, will yield a firkin and a half of butter a 
 year. A firkin of butter is worth £2 15s. ; a firkin and a-half will therefore 
 leave about .£4 a year, and the rent is from £2 to £4 for this cow's grass. 
 A patch of land is manured with sea-weed and shell sand, which the poor, 
 barefooted women carry in hampers on their backs great distances, and on 
 this they raise their potatoes for a year's consumption. The value of their 
 
230 COTTIERS THE MAIN SUFFERERS. 
 
 ous ways. They some times, and the more honorable 
 ones, or less knavish, simply stand in the character of an 
 agent responsible for the rent, and are careful to put an addi- 
 tional price, abundantly sufficient to secure themselves 
 from the possibility of any loss. Many get long and cheap 
 leases from bankrupt landlords, and go to work and build 
 towns, mills, and factories, drain lands, and make other per- 
 manent improvements, as if the property was actually their 
 own. 
 
 It is not unfrequent that such men amass large fortunes, 
 and, in turn, lease their rights to an other class, who be- 
 come more greedy of gain, and vastly worse oppressors 
 than the land owners.* Some times this subletting is car- 
 ried down, by these speculators in human rights and mise- 
 ries, to the fourth and fifth degree. The poor cottier, un- 
 derlaying all, is doomed to support the monstrous burden 
 that oppresses him, or be crushed to death.f From the 
 
 butter hardly pays their rent, and the buttermilk and potatoes are the only 
 food or means of subsistence which the small tenants have. The laborers 
 are worse off; they have not the buttermilk." — Foster's Letters on Ire- 
 land, p. 389. 
 
 * " The middle classes live by subletting, and subletting, and again sublet- 
 ting the land, at increased rentals. This is the extent of their enterprise." — 
 Ibid, p. 145. 
 
 t " In filthiness and squalid poverty, starving on a rood of land, with miles of 
 waste land around him, which the application of knowledge and industry 
 would make teem with plenty, the poor Kerry farmer exists, in contented 
 wretchedness. Neglected by his landlord, he knows nothing beyond the 
 growing of potatoes ; oppressed by the hard fisted middle-man, who lives by 
 squeezing another rent out of his industry, he is steeped in hopeless poverty ; 
 cheated and robbed by the bailiffs and drivers, who extort from him his last 
 sixpence for rent, and their fees ; and pounced upon by the middle-man for an 
 increased rent, if he improves an acre of land, he learns cheating and extortion 
 from his betters, and practices both on the wretched being who labors on his 
 farm. In a hovel lilce a pigsty, in which it is impossible to stand upright, with- 
 out chimney and without window, with but one room, an iron pot, and a rude 
 bedstead, with some straw i'tter, as the only furniture, bed, or bed-clothes, 
 the laborer, in the midst of half a dozen nearly naked children, with his bare- 
 footed wife, sits squatted on the mud floor, round the peat fire. A garden- 
 plot of potatoes is their whole subsistence, and for this patch of land, and the 
 
CON-ACRES. 231 
 
 pores of his skin oozes out the sweat which circulates life 
 and fashion up to the nobleman who sits in the House of 
 Lords, figuj-es at the exchequer, bears the trail of Mrs. Vic- 
 toria Giielph, or loiters, with his family, about the cities and 
 watering places of the continent. He supports the petty 
 aristocracy, so abundant in all Irish towns, in addition, and 
 then is called lazy, indolent, and worthless, and sneered at 
 as unfit to live in such a bountiful and beautiful country. 
 His very birth-place is begrudged him, and, in cold charity, 
 he is helped off to America or Australia ! Merciful hea- 
 ven ! Is there no justice left in human hearts ? No com- 
 passion for the wrongs and ills of a poor and distressed people? 
 And then the larger farmers, learning the method, and 
 imbibing the spirit from their superiors, will split up their 
 farms and let them out by the year in " con- acres," at ex- 
 orbitant prices, sometimes as high as £5, £7, and even 
 £lO.* A "con-acre" is a piece of land plowed and manur- 
 ed. Every system is resorted to, from the highest to the 
 lowest, to spunge out something from the next below, and 
 set at ease upon their necks. It is no wonder that the Irish 
 are proverbially suspicious, and jealous of every body. 
 Their whole training tends to induce such a condition of 
 mind. They are oppressed, cheated, and neglected by the 
 " noble," and nobody seems to show the least regard for 
 
 hovel which shelters him and his family, hig labor is sold to some farmer, who 
 lets him his land and hovel for a year." — Foster's Letters on Ireland, p. 
 38S. 
 
 * A Case.-" The proprietor in fee, is Mr. Alderman Harty, who purchased 
 from an individual in whose favor it had been confiscated after the battle of 
 Aughrim, in the revolution of 1688. Mr. Harty receives 9d. per acre from 
 Major Warburton, the first lessee ; Mr. Handy pays under an old lease, Ss, 
 €d. an acre to Major. W. John North holds under Mr. Handy, and pays 6g. 
 an acre ; John North has sublet to several small tenants, and receives from 
 them on an average of =£1, 7s. an acre." — Poor Inquiry, Ireland, Ap. F. 
 p. 142 
 
 " And sometimes the farmers, in such cases, to enable them to pay these 
 high rents, let out fragments of land manured to cottiers, in what is termed 
 ' Con-acre,' for which the general price is jC8 to £10, the acre." — Foster's 
 Letters, p. 70. 
 
232 REDEEMING UUALITIES. 
 
 them. Their own neighbors are as overbearing and ungen- 
 erous as any body else, and so they are taught to be sus- 
 picious and hateful of one another. 
 
 The whole mystery of the Irish character has been solved 
 and made plain to me, since I have been among them. I 
 would except those educated under more favorable circum- 
 stances ; for nobody has a deeper respect and admiration, 
 almost reverence, for true human nature than myself. And 
 instead of learning to hate, I have come to love the Irish, 
 and to pity them ; for I see, even in the lowest classes, and 
 in their humblest conditions, a living semblance of the 
 original image ; deformed, defaced, and broken, to be sure ; 
 like the world-famed statue of Venus de Medicis, which 
 was dug from deep ruins, and found in eighteen fragments, 
 and some parts missing at that ; and I have faith that some 
 moral or social Michael Angelo will yet arise, and, with pro- 
 per encouragement, clear away the rubbish and give form 
 and direction to the latent, natural qualities, which, it is by 
 all acknowledged, the Irish possess in no mean degree. 
 
 This suggests the remark, that all the " agitations" of O'- 
 Connel, and "Repeal" doctrines of O'Brian, or "Catholic 
 Reform Bills," or "Irish Poor Laws," " Rate-in-aid," and 
 every thing of the kind, will accomplish little more than a 
 pleasing dream to the advocates of the respective measures. 
 They do not reach the cause of the evil. They may palliate 
 the symptoms, soothe the agitation, and prolong the crisis. 
 But the disease remains untouched ; the virus continues 
 to circulate, and the whole system sinks deeper and deeper 
 into an incurable typhoid. 
 
 The great curse of Ireland is a social one, and lays 
 deeper than political agitation, or forcible revolutions. The 
 repeal of the Union could not touch it ; but most likely 
 would aggravate the evils ; for there is no sympathy, no 
 confidence in Irish hearts, and there can be no union or 
 concert of action. I mean there is no sympathy for any 
 thing like political, associated action. There are not in the 
 masses the necessary qualities of self-government. Men 
 
WHAT PARLIAMENT CAN DO. 233 
 
 must be and feel free, before they can establish a free govern- 
 ment ; — must be republicans before they can establish a 
 republic ; must love their fellow-men, have confidence in 
 them, and respect their rights, before they can hope to unite 
 in a successful revolution, or achieve any great measure of 
 reform in which all can participate. 
 
 I dislike, — radical as I am, to be obliged to say these 
 things, in this place ; but I am here an observer and a friend 
 to all. My sympathies are with the people always. I have 
 no respect for wigs nor miters, crowns nor coronets. But I 
 love humanity and pity those who are suffering wrong. I al- 
 ways prefer the stammering approbation of the poor man, 
 whose stifled words and tearful eyes tell his sincerity, than the 
 condescending and patronizing attention of an}'- proud aristo- 
 crat. Yet, with all my faith in humanity, and love for free- 
 dom, religious and political, I do not believe that the com- 
 mon remedies proposed for Ireland are specific or sufficient. 
 
 Parliament can do something, but not by *' Repealing the 
 Union," or passing " Rate-in-aid" bills, or building work- 
 houses, or increasing the taxeS, or shipping over money for 
 the relief of the out-door poor. They must compel absentee 
 and bankrupt landlords to pay their debts like honest men, 
 and, if need be, sequestrating the immense estates which 
 have been enjoyed, these three or four centuries without 
 having ever paid a stiver for them ; — a strong dose, but a 
 just one ; for these properties were confiscated from their 
 original feudal lords and given by royal favor, and having 
 had them so long, humanity and common justice would alike 
 indicate the propriety of taking the vineyard from these 
 faithless husbandmen and letting it to others. There is high 
 authority for such a procedure. And I see no right to be 
 invaded by it, unless the long and uninterrupted possession 
 of wrong makes it a right. I see little else that Parliament 
 1 can do, unless it is to put education on a more liberal basis, 
 making it include more than mere intellectual knowledge — 
 practical science, the arts of good husbandry, by normal 
 schools of agriculture, manufactures, and commerce. 
 
 20* 
 
234 MORAL AND SOCIAL REMEDIES NEEDED. 
 
 Nobody can travel in this country without deploring the 
 ignorance which prevails upon the commonest arts of life, 
 even the means of domestic cleanliness, health and comfort. 
 I should add, in this place, that the odious and onerous tithe 
 tax, for the support of a religion not believed, and the plac- 
 ing of all religions upon an equal basis, would greatly facili- 
 tate the reformation and improvement of the people, by re- 
 moving one of the causes which arouse the strongest pas- 
 sions of their hearts, appealing to their religious prejudices 
 and making them enemies to religious men and measures 
 which should direct them in a course of real progress. 
 
 But deeper than Parliamentary proceedings, which can 
 only aid, a new and moral principle must be brought into 
 action. It is difficult to say how this can be done, or 
 whether it ever will be ; but one thing is certain, if it is not, 
 anarchy and final extinction must overtake this race. The 
 people can not well begin the work alone, nor can the no- 
 bihty or gentry. It must be mutual. A spirit of individual 
 philanthropy must start it, and good men, both high and 
 low, rich and poor, must be willing to profit by it. The 
 people must be instructed — some body must instruct them 
 — and landlords must become benefactors instead of oppres- 
 sors. They must become Christians, and be willing to 
 serve and be served, spend and be spent. And vice versa, 
 the cottiers must be willing to help and be helped. They 
 must not, as now, seek revenge of the landlords, and exe- 
 crate and abuse their agents, by waylaying them and shoot- 
 ing them in a dastardly manner, and thus send a murderous 
 report abroad against the whole country. Nor must they 
 refuse to adopt improvements necessary to make their lands 
 more productive, for fear the landlords will raise upon their 
 rents. They must be willing to join in any measure 
 which will improve their condition and brighten their pros- 
 pects for the future. 
 
 There is no where such a field for christian philanthropy 
 as in Ireland. Talk about converting the heathen, who 
 speak in other languages, and worship other gods. Good 
 
SITUATION OF LIMERICK. 235 
 
 and glorious as that work is, it does not compare with the 
 opportunity of rescuing the starved, the oppressed, ignorant 
 and dying millions of Erin. And how these noblemen can 
 reconcile it with their consciences to live in splendor, and 
 give freely for Christian and benevolent objects from the 
 exorbitant rents extorted from this wretched population, is 
 more than I can comprehend. It seems to me as if the 
 ghosts of their famished tenants would haunt their nightly 
 slumbers, stand in the way of all their revels, and whisper 
 sad moanings of their neglect and injustice in their ears, 
 as they kneel at the altar of religion ! 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LIMERICK. 
 
 Situation of Limerick. — A Porter. — Railway Station. — Scenes of Sin and 
 Misery. — The Market. — Handsome Women. — Artillery Barracks. — Op- 
 pression. — A Wedding. — A Catholic Chapel. — Theory and Practice. — 
 " Spitting." — The Cathedral. — Bishop's Court. — Monuments. — A Fine 
 Landscape. — The Citadel. — History. — Interview with the Prioress of a 
 Nunnery. — National Schools, their Changes and Present Condition. — Read- 
 ing Room. — Newspapers. — Limerick-Stone. — Gentry. — Beggars. 
 
 APPROACHING THE CITY. 
 
 For several miles along the shores of the river, before 
 reaching Limerick, the land is level, and the hills recede to 
 a considerable distance. Close on the banks the ground is 
 low, a portion of it having been recovered from the domain 
 of the water, by artificial dikes, which preserve it from be- 
 ing overflowed by high tides and unusual freshets. These 
 alluvial bottoms are rich, and very productive. Back of 
 these, a broad, undulating plain stretches off in all direc- 
 tions, bounded by distant hills on the east, south, and north- 
 west, leaving the beautiful valley on the north and west, 
 
230 SIGNS OF PROSPERITY. 
 
 through which winds the majestic Shannon, the noblest 
 river in the United Kingdom. In the centre of this vale, 
 and directly on a bend in the river where it suddenly 
 spreads into the estuary, called the Lower Shannon, is 
 situated the city of Limerick. Several villages, private 
 seats and villas, with old ruined castles towering up, here 
 and lhej:e, from isolated rocks or projecting spurs of a range 
 of hills' add much to the grandeur and beauty of this lovely 
 region. > 
 
 The city itself, as we approached it last evening, made a 
 far more imposing appearance than I had expected to see 
 in this part of Ireland. The size and beautiful situation of 
 the city, the character of its buildings, the large quantity 
 of vessels lying along its well built stone quays, as well as 
 the business-like stir and bustle, and apparent good taste 
 every where displayed, greatly surprised and pleased me. 
 Nor was I disappointed on entering the town. Every 
 thing I saw, confirmed my first favorable impressions. 
 The width and regularity of the streets, some of them 
 more than a mile long, the elegance of the houses the ap- 
 pearances of the well-filled stores and well-dressed inhabi- 
 tants, were so unlike any thing I had anticipated, that I 
 could hardly realize that we were in the chief city of the 
 west of Ireland. Every thing bore the marks of wealth, 
 prosperity, and refinement, equal, if not superior, to what is 
 common in our country. And what surprised me more, 
 every thing appeared fresh and modern. The houses, 
 churches, stores, and shops, looked as if recently erected, 
 and with a full knowledge of all the improvements in the 
 present system of utilitarian architecture. 
 
 My happiness on beholding these proofs of prosperity, 
 taste, and comfort, was inexpressible. I felt relieved from 
 the sadness forced upon me by an intercourse with the 
 misery and degradation I had just passed through ; and, 
 like too many, almost forgot that there was any real po- 
 verty in the country, and wondered whether the scenes I 
 have faintly described were not dreams, mere figments of a 
 
DEMAND, 237 
 
 sickly and suspicious philantliropy. All about me seemed 
 to be cheerfulness, activity, pleasure, and contentment, 
 which, I must confess, harmonized much better with my 
 natural feelings, and afforded me great relief 
 
 The wharf was lined with car-men, hack-men, hotel- 
 runners, and ragged, dirty boys, much in the fashion of our 
 cities. As we had no need of either, we hurried from the 
 pier as soon as possible, budget in hand. A crowd of boys 
 followed us, teasing us to grant them the privilege of car- 
 rying our sacks, bidding one upon the other, from a shilling 
 to a ha'- penny. At length, one poor fellow looked so wo- 
 begone, and begged so pitifully, that we agreed with him 
 for a penny. On arriving at the hotel, he demanded, in the 
 fashion of his country, two-pence, just four times his offer, 
 and double the amount agreed on. We had resolved to 
 give him three-pence, if he said nothing. But these poor 
 fellows are so unused to anything hke voluntary generosity, 
 that they never wait to see the proof of it. 
 
 As much as I abhor this trait of character every where 
 displayed, I do not marvel at its existence. It is conse- 
 quent upon the system of social life. A sort of grab- law 
 prevails, which allows every one to get what he can — ex- 
 cept it be by actual robbery — from the Lord- Lieutenant 
 down to the boy that carried our sacks. And it generally 
 appears in the form of a demand — a direct tax, levied with- 
 out an equivalent, which is the pride of Yankee traffic. 
 A tax is put upon place, as at turnpike gates, where he 
 who rides alone in a chaise must pay double the toll of him 
 who drives a loaded team ; not because he wears the road 
 more, but is better dressed. In fact, this is the "common 
 law" of all monopolies, and the whole political, social, and 
 religious arrangement of Great Britain is little else than a 
 grand scheme of monopoly, from the Queen down to the 
 renter of a single rood of con-acre. The waiter, cham- 
 bermaid and boots expect to be paid, whether they have 
 seen you or not, and the diiver of the car or coach, after 
 receiving the full sum agreed on, will tip his hat and ask for 
 
238 ELEGANCE AND ECONOMY. 
 
 "something" — in payment for his place and privilege. 
 The whole system is an abominable annoyance to travelers. 
 May the good sense of Americans prevent the introduc- 
 tion of such an absurdity into our country. 
 
 After securing quarters, we strolled about the town; 
 passed a friary, and a national school-house, both respecta- 
 ble looking buildings, and went to the Dublin railway sta- 
 tion, a large and elegant building, built in a deep cavity ex- 
 cavated in a hill. The contrast between the outlay of la- 
 bor on all the public works of this country and ours, is very 
 marked. Every thing here is done, seemingly, with refer- 
 ence to durability, and without much respect to present 
 expense or profit. With us it is the reverse. We flatten 
 every sixpence, to make it cover as much we can, and 
 stretch every wire to make it reach as far as possible. 
 Ours is the evidence of ambitious enterprise, of youthful 
 vigor, and, sometimes, indiscretion — with small means, de- 
 termined to make the most of it. Theirs is cool calcula- 
 tion, and mature judgment, irrespective of the gold and 
 sweat which are to be wasted upon it. And, I must con- 
 fess, that in the bridges, station-houses, quays, barracks, 
 poor-houses, in fact, in every thing that is modern, there is 
 a fair show of good taste and liberal outlay, mixed with 
 abundant means and prudent judgment. In our country 
 we have yet to acquire these attributes, in part. We may 
 have the taste, but either lack the means or judgment ; or 
 else our calculating prudence — -for-the present system — 
 tells us that it would be bad economy, and a needless 
 waste, to look to elegance and durability at the same time; 
 that it is better to invest the surplus in some more produc- 
 tive stocks. 
 
 Extravagance is always to be avoided. Good taste re- 
 quires it. But it is poor economy to make a thing so frail 
 that it will not endure a year without repairing. And 
 then, no one should be so utilitarian as to reprobate the 
 comforts and decencies of life. Real elegance is in simpli- 
 city ; and good taste never violates sound judgment. Our 
 
3CENE3 OF DESTITUTION. 239 
 
 steamboats, for instance, are elegant, extravagant, foolishly 
 so, in their fittings. The British are mean, inconvenient, 
 and generally dirty. Our station-houses are ugly, mis- 
 shapen, unsuitable things, and our bridges and wharves ten- 
 penny structures. These are solid, durable, elegant. There 
 are lessons for both to learn. 
 
 All that part of the town, called Newtown-Perry — from 
 the name of the owner of the land on which the new town 
 is built — is very fine, neat, regular, airy, and elegant ; and 
 our astonishment and admiration increased as we went 
 over it. But the day did not close without proofs of desti- 
 tution and misery, which awakened all my sadness, and 
 gave full conviction that we were still in Ireland ! 
 
 We visited the old part of the city, and all along the 
 main street leading through the "Irish to the English town," 
 saw such sights of poverty and shameless degradation as 
 we never saw before. There is no spot in our cities to 
 compare with it. The Five Points, so graphically de- 
 scribed by Mr. Dickens, who saw every thing through the 
 most English eyes, does not afford the basis of a compari- 
 son ; for that is filled up with the better class who have 
 emigrated from Saint Giles, Saint Mary's Gate, and the 
 streets we are now describing. The more wretched could 
 not go. 
 
 All along the street, centre and sides, were grouped 
 masses of human beings, of both sexes and all ages, who 
 exhibited the lowest depths of poverty, intemperance and 
 vice. The gin, beer, junk, and slop-shops were in charac- 
 ter with all the rest, in the style of Orange-street, though 
 on a much larger scale. Smutty childhood, wrinkled age, 
 hobbling decrepitude, gaunt dist»'ess, bloated drunkenness, 
 shameless vice, barefaced crime — all the odiousness of ig- 
 norance, depravity and famine were mingled in a confused 
 mass, the most loathsome and forbidding. 
 
 Crossing the bridge into the " English Town," the hue 
 became, if possible, still darker, as the evidences of moral 
 depravity thickened on all sides. This added to the pic- 
 
240 MULTITUDES GENERATE VICE. 
 
 ture colorino-s of diso^race and wretchedness which trans 
 
 o o 
 
 cend all attempts at description — most appalling and re- 
 pulsive exhibitions of vice, in which soldiers from the bar- 
 racks acted prominent parts. The principal business 
 seemed to be vending old clothes. These, in every con- 
 ceivable variety, from the laid-ofF coat of the nobleman, and 
 the dress of his " lady," down to those stripped from the 
 corse of a beggar, or picked from the gutter, were displayed 
 along the sides of the street. 
 
 Crossing another bridge, we passed one of the military 
 stations, when still stronger marks of vice and infamy were 
 to be seen. Under the best regulations, a large share of ini- 
 quity clusters about such large establishments. But here 
 it seemed to revel without restraint. From this place 
 flows the blighting influence which leaves such palpable 
 traces of crime and moral pollution upon both men and 
 women, young in years, but, it is feared, already old in vi-ce 
 and deep in depravity. Who ever searched minutely, the 
 full history of large bodies of men, closely packed in bar- 
 racks or monastery, without finding traces of depravity 
 which have festered into the rottenest crimes ; sometimes 
 kept secret for a time, but afterward divulged ? The Re- 
 formation corrected, in a measure the abuses of one, the 
 prevalence of peace will remove the other. 
 
 We were satisfied to return to our inn, at an early hour, 
 having looked upon scenes of beauty and wretchedness, de- 
 pravity and shame, mingled in such confusion as we had 
 never supposed possible. The events of yesterday I shall 
 not soon forget. They form a chapter — nay a book of 
 many chapters — in the history of my experience, never to 
 be forgotten. The scenes of whole years have been 
 crowded into a single day, and more phases of social life pre- 
 sented, than could be witnessed at home, by traveling from 
 one end of our country to the other. The old and the new, 
 the beautiful and the strange, from the days feudalism first 
 reared these castle walls, to this hour, when wealth, sus- 
 tained by a royal retinue <jf lords and armies, trartnps with 
 
A MORNING STROLL. 241 
 
 iron hoof upon the necks and vh'tue of this unfortunate 
 people, are all confusedly huddled together ; and I feel my 
 spirit and my flesh completely exhausted. May the good 
 Lord give faith and patience to endure one night of peace 
 and quiet sleep. 
 
 A DAY AT LIMERICK. 
 
 May 23. — The only disturbance which troubled us during 
 the night was the doleful cry of the watchmen, who passed 
 our window every hour, drawling out the time of the night 
 and "all's well," in a deep guttural tone, as if they had been 
 released from the grave after a thousand } ears' confinement, 
 and expected soon to return to it. After the outbreak, a 
 few nights ago, when Messrs. O'Brien, Mitchel, and Meag- 
 her were driven from public meeting, and having seen 
 multitudes during the evening, in various parts of the city, 
 engaged in warm discussions upon political questions which 
 now so much agitate this country, and knowing that many 
 apprehended another emute of the citizens, we were easily 
 disturbed ; but nothing troubled us but the horrid cries of 
 the night-watch. 
 
 We rose Sit four — the sun having preceded us by half an 
 hour — and took a ramble about the still and quiet streets. 
 Few were astir at that hour. Here and there, a solitary 
 footman passed us, and occasionally a despondent ass, laden 
 with a few vegetables, or boxes stowed into panniers laid 
 across his back, and driven by a young woman with bare 
 feet, dingy, and often ragged dress, and naked head, or co- 
 vered by a white cambric cap, with a wide flowing ruflle 
 about the face — appearing alike uncared for, and fit com- 
 panions in misfortune and doom of servitude Their tramp 
 along the clean and solitary streets at that beautiful hour, 
 seemed lonely and sad, and contrasted strangely with the 
 cheerfulness and grandeur of that calm and sweet morning. 
 
 Soon the baker with his baskets of bread, the servant with 
 her pail for water, the newsman with his bundle of papers, 
 
 21 
 
242 THE MARKET. 
 
 tripped more rapidly along the streets. By-and-by, a grog- 
 gcry was opened, and then a grocery, and, by six o'clock, 
 there were signs of returning life in all the business parts of 
 the town. 
 
 We visited the market places, which were first open. The 
 only meat we saw displayed in the stalls was mutton, much 
 of which appeared to be of an excellent quality. Butter, in 
 large quantity, and of the very nicest kind, was all along 
 the street, done up in neat rolls and handsomely stamped. 
 There was also fish of various kinds, piles of boiled shrimps, 
 early vegetables, mainly cabbage and cauliflower, bread, 
 cheese, and articles common in our markets. The prices 
 were not high — generally lower than in New York. Gro- 
 ceries are much dearer, especially tea, coffee, and sugar. 
 Good coffee is from 30 to 40 cents a pound, and most duti- 
 able articles are from three to four times as high as with 
 us. The turf-sellers attracted our notice. Some were 
 standing by asses loaded with the article, others had baskets 
 which they had brought on their backs many miles, and 
 were willing to deliver in any part of the city. These 
 were the most deplorably miserable and dejected of any^ 
 except the beggars which met us at every step, and followed 
 us in droves, wherever we went, even into the hall of our 
 hotel, and remained about the door, after being ordered out 
 by our host, to waylay us when we came into the street 
 again. 
 
 Many about the market were quite respectable in their 
 appearance. I noticed several persons, well formed, tail, 
 handsome, and genteel in their manners. I was surprised 
 to see several women who could be called really beautiful, 
 even dressed as they were. Every body knows that dress 
 may be so tastefully selected and delicately arranged as to 
 add much to nature's charms, and help set off beauty in its 
 most favorable aspects. But among these rude peasant girls 
 who had come many miles to market, with the commonest 
 products they had themselves reared, there were specimens 
 of female beauty, T had not expected to find in any class in 
 
PERSONAL BEAUTY. 243 
 
 Ireland. At home we are in the habit of speaking of the 
 Irish as exceedingly plain and often ugly in their appearance, 
 and many of them are ; but I never heard of beauty being 
 sought for among them. It is a mistake, and I am happy 
 in the disappointment ; for there is something in the per- 
 sonal appearance of the inhabitants of any country which 
 affects one's feelings, and adds to or detracts from his plea- 
 sure while sojourning among them. 
 
 Ireland has been slandered for the ugliness of its inhabit- 
 ants. There are differences in different parts of the king- 
 dom, and ugliness enough, no doubt every where ; for there 
 are distinct races who maintain much of their primitive 
 characteristics, which distinguishes them from those in 
 other parts of the island. Those among whom we have been 
 traveling, especially about Killarney, at Kinsale, Macroom, 
 and Tarbert are shorter and smaller, and not so pretty in 
 their forms and features as they are here. We saw many 
 tall, and well formed figures, and handsome countenances in 
 Cork and Tralee, owing no doubt, to the mingling of diffe- 
 rent races which have settled at different times in those 
 business towns. 
 
 The same cause has conspired, unquestionably, to produce 
 a similar effect in this city and the country about it ; for, if 
 I remember rightly, this was long ago, one of the great cen- 
 tral spots in the conflicts of civil and foreign wars. The 
 Danes and Normans came here and established themselves, 
 far back in the history of the nation ; and Cromwell dis- 
 banded his army in this neighborhood, and settled his offi- 
 cers and soldiers upon the lands from which he had driven 
 the orimnal inhabitants. The Scotch also circulated freely 
 among this people, and many settled here. This was the 
 seat of the O'Brians, the former kings of Munster. Being 
 close upon the borders of the other provinces, and an im- 
 portant commercial town, the population naturally became 
 greatly mixed, and hence, according to physiological laws, 
 the improvement in the physical appearance of the people 
 is to be accounted for. 
 
244 THE ARTILLERY BARRACKS. 
 
 By seven all the shops were open, and the streets were 
 full of bustle and business. Every thing in the main streets 
 of the new town wore the appearance of thrift and pros- 
 perity. The stores are numerous, large, handsome, and 
 well furnished, betokening an extensive and profitable busi- 
 ness. The streets are wide straight, neat, and airy, and in- 
 tersected at right angles. Those nearest the river are oc- 
 cupied by large buildings used as stores below, and dwell- 
 ings above. The land ascends gently from the river, and 
 in the upper part of the town, especially along the Crescent, 
 the dwellings are very large and elegant, the streets being 
 ornamented with shade trees, and the yards filled with vines, 
 flowers, and shrubbery, much in the character of the best 
 streets in American cities. 
 
 We visited this morning, one of the barracks, occupying 
 a large fort on the high ground in the eastern part of the 
 city. We bolted in unasked, and looked at the comfortable 
 quarters of the soldiers. English statesmen are wise in one 
 thing, keeping strong the right arm of their power. The 
 soldiers are well fed, and well paid, and have an easy 
 time of it. None of the common people fare half so well. 
 They are a sort of indigent nobility, furnished with red 
 coats, glazed caps, and good rations at the public charge, 
 and required to exercise barely enough to digest their food. 
 And the ranks of an army are well suited to the hereditary 
 gradations so indispensible in the working of British insti- 
 tutions. There is no motive for a soldier to desert, unless 
 in a foreign land ; it would be folly to forsake his beef, and 
 bread, and whiskey, which come to him with perfect regu- 
 larity, and at no cost, to seek a precarious livelihood on a 
 patch of ground he might hire at an enormous rent, but 
 could never own. His instinct makes him loyal, and natural 
 rights and political and social wrongs do not trouble him. 
 It is food and raiment, and a place to sleep, that concerns 
 him most, and so he becomes mechanically valorous, when 
 occasion requires. 
 
 Some three or four thousand of these minions of power, 
 
IRISH PATRIOTISM. 245 
 
 are now stored in the four barracks in this city, and thirty- 
 thousand more in different parts of the kingdom. Fresh 
 troops are constantly arriving from England and Scotland. 
 The agitation produced by O'Brien, M. P. Mitchell, and 
 Meagher, the two former of whom are said to have used 
 strongly seditious language in this city, a few evenings ago, 
 is the cause of all this stir in military matters. I am told 
 the officers are in pursuit of these men, and no doubt before 
 this they are in " durance vile." 
 
 I got into conversation with an under officer, and learned 
 something of his feelings about the commotions which now 
 agitate the country. I found him loyal, in every particular, 
 though he admitted the wrongs of government, and the 
 miseries of his countrymen. I asked him if the govern- 
 ment was willing to trust him to fight his own friends in 
 case of an outbreak. He said he was not amongst his 
 friends ; he came from the north, and should certainly obey 
 orders. He further told me that companies from the west 
 and south had been generally sent out of the country, to 
 England, Canada, or other places, while their places had 
 been filled from England, Scotland, and the north. He did 
 not think there would be any serious outbreak, but the 
 soldiers were fully prepared to quell any rebellion that might 
 be undertaken. I expressed to him no opinion, and it was 
 evident he took me for an Englishman. 
 
 Two or three squads were going through a course of 
 artillery drill. They were tall, noble looking fellows ; and 
 as they strutted through the evolutions around their brass 
 pieces, pretending to put in cartridges and ram them down, 
 prime, elevate, take aim, fire off, and swob out, all at the 
 direction of little slim lads, in cloth caps, who swaggered 
 about, flourishing rattan canes, like Broadway dandies, a 
 feeling of pity and disgust was awakened, to think that the 
 best energies of these *' noble" young men were to be prosti- 
 tuted to the base purpose of learning how to kill their fellow- 
 men scientifically — by rule and by "law and order," and 
 subject to the command of her Royal Majesty, the Head of 
 
 21* 
 
240 UNCHRISTIAN TREATMENT. 
 
 the Church ! Shame and confusion ! What arrogant folly ! 
 What bloody madness ! Oh Heavens ! Is justice lost ? Is 
 mercy dumb ? Then, " Rule Brittania" and tramp on 
 with thy aristocratic hoofs, still more ruthlessly, and crush 
 what life is left in this wretched people ! Drive on thy cart 
 loads of tax and tithe gatherers, and arm thy constabulary 
 to protect agents of absentees in distraining for rent or 
 evicting tenants from desirable lands, turning them house- 
 less and pennyless upon the world, and then train their mili- 
 tary to shoot them down if they dare to make a show of 
 resistance, or a particle of self-respect by way of objection. 
 They have no remedy at law. Physical resistance is their 
 only resource. And such a demonstration they must not 
 make ! 
 
 Is this christian ? Is there aught of the spirit of the re- 
 ligion professed by the government, in all this method of op- 
 pression. Should not the strong be merciful, the wise gene- 
 rous, and the christian forgiving ! And yet what has Eng- 
 land done to elevate and improve the condition of the com- 
 mon people of Ireland. Every Englishman, and loyal Irish- 
 man, especially if a landlord, is for ever harping upon the 
 ignorance, bigotry, laziness, filth, and wickedness of the 
 Irish, and, heaven knows, not without a cause, for there is 
 enough of all these. But is it the way to cure an evil, to 
 be constantly finding fault, while nothing is done to remove 
 the cause — to take off the yoke which has so galled their 
 necks for ten centuries ? Is the remedy to be found in the 
 infliction of greater oppressions, or by adding insult to injury ? 
 It seems to me as if the principles of humanity, as recom- 
 mended in the gospels, are never thought of in connexion 
 with the government of Ireland. That it is by a mere dis- 
 play of pride and power, that respect and obedience are 
 looked for — methods which the veriest heathen tvrant would 
 have adopted in the government of a conquered province, 
 which he wished to depopulate, to make room for more loyal 
 subjects. 
 
 The ignorance and wickedness of this country does not 
 
EVILS OF NEGLECT. 247 
 
 justify the treatment it receives. One wrong does not jus- 
 tify another ; and until England learns to be just and gene- 
 rous towards the masses of her citizens, regarding them in 
 the light of common justice and humanity, instead of be- 
 stowing all her care and favors upon her nobility and gen- 
 try, no real improvement can be reasonably expected. If 
 her statesmen would act the part of guardians and protec- 
 tors, and devote her powers to educate the people, by giv- 
 ing them practical knowledge in the arts of civilization, 
 and then afford them a chance to do for themselves, instead 
 of keeping them the serfs of absentee landlords, to be 
 abused and cheated to the last inch by merciless agents, 
 and trafficking middle-men, and then taxing them to the 
 last farthing to support lordly priests, whose doctrines they 
 disbelieve, and armies of policemen and soldiers to help 
 keep them in the traces, they might look with confidence 
 for improvement, for the peace and happiness of Ire- 
 land. As it is, the darkness thickens in her skies, corrup- 
 tion festers at her heart, poverty and crime mark her ca- 
 reer, and distraction and ruin are in reserve for her future. 
 Not a ray of hope or comfort gleams from any point of 
 heaven, upon the masses of her sons and daughters. Op- 
 pression, starvation, or emigration are inscribed every 
 where — on every hill and valley, in every town, village, and 
 hamlet. Peace, justice, and competence are no where to 
 be found. 
 
 To the courageous, of small means, there are glimmer- 
 ings of light, wafted in the arrival of each emigrant ship 
 from the distant shores of a foreign land ; and they breathe 
 more freely, and their pulses beat quicker, a smile even kin- 
 dles upon their pale lips, when the thought strikes them that 
 there is a chance for them to forsake their native land, the 
 homes and graves of their ancestors, and seek an asylum 
 among strangers. But to the timorous, without means, 
 there is nothing left but cold, blank despair, rendered more 
 apparent by the glistening of the oppressor's power, which 
 glimmers about the bristling bayonets of these trained 
 
248 A WEDDING. 
 
 bands of death and destruction, sent here to overawe the 
 masses, and protect the exclusive privileges of the favored 
 few ! 
 
 No country can realiy prosper, whose inhabitants are so 
 treated that they learn to hate their homes, and to despise 
 the authorities. Kings and noblemen may prate about 
 '* divine rights" as much as they will, but unless they have 
 the hearts of the people on their side, they will have prac- 
 tical illustrations of the truth and meaning of the w^ords 
 *' Vox popitli, vox Dei ;" for, sooner or later, God, whose love 
 is impartial, and whose justice fails not, will give freedom 
 and peace to His people. 
 
 From the artillery barracks, we wandered through the 
 public square, and seeing many people gathering about 
 a church near by, we went in. A woman who was serv- 
 ing as sexton, informed us there was to be a wedding, and 
 invited us to walk in. We did so, and took our seats in 
 the front of the gallery, but as it was some time before the 
 parties arrived, we went below, and looked about the 
 building. The pews are furnished with locks, and many 
 of them were fastened to keep out the unbelievers. A 
 tombstone is inserted in the wall, on the left of the pulpit, 
 at the height of ten or twelve feet from the floor. Its let- 
 tering indicates that it is in memory of a Mrs. Russel, wife 
 of one of the richest men in Limerick, we learned after- 
 wards, made so by the distilling of whiskey, the monopoly 
 of grain, and the fattening of hogs ! The building itself is 
 neat and respectable, of recent erection and in modern 
 style. 
 
 A large number of people were gathered about the door, 
 mere idlers, who came from curiosity, whom the lady sex- 
 ton refused to admit. But one or two hundred, who were very 
 respectably dressed, came in and seated themselves about 
 the church. Their appearance fully justified my favorable 
 opinion of the personal beauty of the inhabitants, espe- 
 cially the women, of Limerick. There was scarcely an 
 ordinary looking person amongst them. Many were really 
 
A CATHOLIC CHAPEL. 249 
 
 handsome. Even among those standing about the door- 
 way, there were many boys and girls, plainly dressed, and 
 some ragged, whose countenances were actually beautiful. 
 They needed only a little soap and water to bring out the 
 lustre of rosy cheeks, and delicate and well-formed fea- 
 tures. 
 
 Soon carriages began to arrive, with lackeys in livery, 
 and the "parties of the first part," as the lawyer would 
 say, appeared and retired to a small, open room on 
 the left of the entrance. Soon after, the *•' parties of the 
 second part" were ushered in, and a formal presentation 
 made, when the whole retinue entered the body of the 
 church, and arranged themselves before the altar. The 
 priest, in full canonicals, with book in hand, proceeded to 
 read the marriage service, and, with all due formality, pro- 
 claimed the twain to be one, till death them should part. 
 Then the salutations and greetings followed, which over, 
 the happy pair were conducted to their carriage and de- 
 parted, hut not as they came. The beggars next claimed 
 our notice, for they flocked about in abundance ; but I saw 
 nothing given them, except sour looks and harsh words. 
 We were told this was a wedding in high life, the friends of 
 the parties being among the most distinguished people of 
 the town; and that, therefore, the poor beggars had hoped 
 that a few pennies would have been scattered amongst 
 them. They seemed to bear their disappointment bravely. 
 as if used to it, for where so many are, who can give to all ? 
 A man must have a long purse or a hard heart to live long 
 in Ireland. 
 
 On our way from the wedding, we passed a Catholic 
 chapel, which was open. We entered. It was a large 
 building, rather dingy, inside and out. Two women and 
 an old man were kneeling on the cold stone floor, not far 
 from the door, with their faces towards the high altar, in 
 the farther end. Their pale, wan faces, wrinkled skin, and 
 tattered garments, told a tale of misery, from which they 
 were seeking relief in the offices of penance they were 
 
250 FAITH AND WORKS. 
 
 now undergoing. The women were not old, but they 
 looked the pictures of wretchedness. Each was mutterincr 
 prayers, and counting a string of old, worn beads, which 
 hung about the neck, with the most apparent fervor and 
 sincerity. They did not seem to notice us as we entered 
 and passed them. After looking at a few pictures and sta- 
 tues about the church, we returned, to go out. The 
 women broke short off, and came to us, holding out their 
 thin hands. One said, " Plase, sir, give me a ha -penny, an' 
 may the Lord bliss ye, and give ye lang life." The other 
 said, "Give me a ha'-penny, an' I'll pray that the great 
 God'll bliss ye, yer honors, an' kape yer shouls from pur- 
 gatory, an' carry ye safe, an' kape ye, an' ye'll give me a 
 ha'-penny." They went from one to the other, bartering 
 their prayers for our ha'-pennies, and promising to inter- 
 cede with the blessed Virgin in our behalf. The old man 
 did not rise from his knees, but reached out his old hat 
 with one hand, while he held the beads in the other. A 
 more perfect figure of patient destitution 1 never saw, not 
 even the poor creatures under the boards at Tralee. 
 
 As we left that church, I queried whether the doctrines 
 and precepts of Christianity are well understood ; whether 
 the errors and mistakes of past ages have not left shadows 
 upon it, which dim its brightest beauties, and keep the 
 world from enjoying its blessings. Sincerity, humility, 
 faith in doctrines, submission to forms as a ineans, are valu- 
 able, it may be essential, qualities, but are there not active 
 virtues which are equally so ? Should not the people be 
 taught to watch as well as pray ; to work as well as believe ; 
 to do as well as know ? And does not he who labors with 
 his hands to support himself comfortably, and to give to 
 the needy, as truly serve God as he who waits at the 
 altar? It seems to me people, many of them, talk strangely 
 and unadvisedly about this good and beautiful world, in 
 which it has pleased our heavenly Father to place us for a 
 time; for ever decrying it, and speaking of its blessings and 
 comforts with ingratitude and disrepect, and holding out 
 
THEORY AND PRACTICE. 251 
 
 the opinion, that to love God we must hate the world, and 
 the glorious works he has displayed in it ; that religion re- 
 quires pain and sadness, and the denial of all real temporal 
 comfort to those who would become eminent in piety, and 
 have a sure hope of the life to come ; that a perpetual war- 
 fare is to be kept up with one's self, refusing all the sources 
 of present and prospective happiness, and laboring to be 
 satisfied with the worst possible condition to which hu- 
 manitv can be reduced. 
 
 The practical of these doctrines is found in the degraded 
 condition of mendicant friars, and severe devotees to all 
 religious infatuations, who submit cheerfully to the most 
 painful and degrading penances which a haughty, ambi- 
 tious, and unfeeling priesthood are pleased to inflict. The 
 evil is not so much in the fact that these views have not 
 been well carried out, for then they would have corrected 
 themselves ; but in that they are yet preached, even by 
 pleasure-seeking bishops, and ease-taking prelates, whose 
 sporting habits, fat " livings," elegant mansions, good din- 
 ners, and fine wines, present a strange illustration to the 
 theories they advocate, and thus bring religion into dis- 
 repute. 
 
 Could the practical doctrines and precepts of Christianity 
 be brought before the people, and their perfect and beauti- 
 ful adaptedness to all the affairs and conditions of men be 
 shown, a most favorable result might be expected. Could 
 this Irish people, now so miserable and degraded, or so ex- 
 alted above the affections, duties, and responsibilities which 
 belong to a true Christian, be made to understand and feel 
 the spirit and power of Christian truth, which owns one 
 God and Father, who is over all, and one Lord Jesus Christ, 
 who gave himself a ransom for all, and requires all men, 
 every where, to repent, to lead quiet and peaceable lives, 
 to be not idle, busy-bodies, but to be industrious, frugal, 
 tender-hearted, merciful, just, forgiving, forbearing ; to 
 avoid oppression, injustice, and cruelty ; striving to make 
 this earth a paradise of peace and plenty, remembering that 
 
252 PRACTICAL DOCTRINES NEEDED. 
 
 Christ came to establish His kingdom " in the earth," 
 amongst men ; that with Him the distinctions of nation, 
 race, birth, and position are nothing ; that each and all are 
 held directly and personally to account before God for eve- 
 ry act, and word, and thought ; that the poor, oppressed, 
 and outcast have a friend and defender in Him, whose 
 cause He will plead, and whose wrongs He will avenge ; 
 that He abhors the forms and fashions of religion which 
 disguise the truth, corrupt the heart, and deceive the 
 world ; that he requires righteousness in the " inward 
 parts," purity of soul, and a perfect life ; — could these 
 things be understood and felt, I venture to prophecy that 
 these poor devotees would not be here, on this pleasant 
 day, counting over their beads and muttering the Ave Ma- 
 rias for the ten thousandth time ; nor those train-bands 
 studying the science and art of human butchery — actual 
 murder ; — nor those whole villages forsaken by the evicted 
 tenants of some cruel landlord, who has compelled them to 
 live in caves dug from damp turf beds, and beg, or starve 
 to death. We should see right respected, industry en- 
 couraged, innocence protected, and prosperity and happi- 
 ness prevailing in all parts of the kingdom. The teachers 
 of religion are under a fearful responsibility ! And who 
 shall escape ? May the Lord give grace and mercy.* 
 I should not fail to record one fact which had some sig- 
 
 * I do not mean by what I have said, to disparage any form of doctrine, 
 or mode of worship. Such is not ray object, and this is not the place. But 
 I could not forbear the utterance of these thoughts, which have borne heavily 
 upon my mind, since I was in the country. I would by no means dis- 
 courage those poor, comfortless, unfortunate beings from coming to the only 
 sure fountain of help and hope — the religion of our Lord Jesus Christ. But 
 I wanted to suggest that the mere forms and externals of religious worship 
 are not enough : that the people must be taught how to live here, as well as 
 how to prepare to live hereafter. I am reminded of rather a witty remark 
 of one of my own countrymen, who was once a slave, but is now distin- 
 guished for his talents as a public advocate of abolitionism. Said he, " We are 
 told we must pray to God, and he will give us liberty. But I can tell you 
 what, my friends, I might have prayed with my mouth till doom's day ; but 
 if I had not prayed with my heels, I should still have been in slavery." Thia 
 explains my meaning. 
 
SPITTERS. 253 
 
 nificance, the more so to us in as much as it afforded an op- 
 portunity to hurl back a missile sent at us by British tour- 
 ists which might as well have been kept at home for domes- 
 tic use. A notice was posted in different parts of the 
 church, ^^ Please avoid spitting on the jioor." I never 
 saw such a notice at home, though I confess there is often 
 need of it, not only in churches but every where else. But 
 henceforth we shall have companions to share with us the 
 disgrace of being a '* nation of spitters." It is a miserable, 
 filthy practice to chew or smoke tobacco ; but if chewers 
 and smokers would keep their filth to themselves, and not 
 invade the rights and comfort of others, with their habits, 
 none would ever complain. I do not therefore mention this 
 notice by way of excuse for my own countrymen, or as an 
 apology for the nasty practice so justly complained of, but 
 to remind our trans-atlantic brethren of their own sins, and 
 the propriety of having a care for the " beam" as well as 
 the " mote." 
 
 Our next point was to St. Mary's church, formerly the 
 Catholic cathedral, but now the high church of the Establish- 
 ment, gained to the service of God, and the glorious reforma- 
 tion, vi et armis, like innumerable other churches throughout 
 the realm. We do not obtain churches in that way at home. 
 I remember hearing an Englishman express his astonishment 
 at the sale of churches in our country, from one sect to 
 another, as though it was a very strange and sacrilegious 
 procedure. He doubtless thought it better to gain them by 
 conquest. It has been so here. The decrees of courts, en- 
 forced by military power, has helped to rob the Catholics of 
 all their ancient temples, and that too when the great masses 
 of the people adhere to their original doctrine. As a re- 
 publican I call this robbery. The majority should rule 
 when rights are equal. The change of one's opinion should 
 not jeopardize his liberty or his property. But England has 
 yet to take some lessons in the doctrines of equal justice, 
 and religious toleration. She has made great improvement 
 of late, but there still is room for more. 
 
 22 
 
254 ST. MARY S CHURCH. 
 
 It is difficult to make these people understand the work- 
 ings of our free and voluntar}^ church system. They will 
 not believe us when we tell them it is a very common thing 
 in various parts of our country, for tvv^o or tliree sects to 
 unite and build a church, own it and occupy it in common, 
 the ministers of each sect taking part in the service of 
 dedication. But really it seems to me there is quite as 
 much of the spirit of our holy religion exhibited by such a 
 procedure, as there is in the exclusiveness and robberies 
 which have marked the past history of both Catholics and 
 Episcopalians, or the government churches in Scotland, 
 Germany, or any where else. One is a free and voluntary 
 act in honor and support of religion ; the other a forced 
 contribution to answer the demands of intriguing religio- 
 politicians. Give us the free, the liberal, the tolerant, and 
 we will trust the true and right. 
 
 St. Mary's Church, to which we obtained admittance, on 
 the payment of 2s., is a venerable, and majestic pile, erected 
 in the 11th century. It is built somewhat in the Gothic 
 style, though some of the arches are Norman. It is in the 
 form of a cross. The choir and transept only are used 
 for service. Stalls are erected on both sides of the choir, 
 and ornamented with fantastic carvings. The altar itself, 
 is a tasteful structure, viewed as a work of art. Numerous 
 monuments to the honored dead, are arranged about the in- 
 terior. Among them I noticed one of Bishop Jebb, which 
 represents the venerable prelate much larger than life, sit- 
 ting in an easy posture, attired in his robes of office, with a 
 book open resting on his knees. The statue is in fine 
 white marble, and richly finished. Near it, in a recess in 
 the wall, is the tomb and sculptured monument of the 
 O'Brien's, kings of Munster. It is an elaborate work, bear- 
 ing some inscriptions in Irish, and surmounted with the 
 harp, shamrock, and the Arms of Munster. 
 
 The seats in this vast building will not accommodate 
 more than two or three hundred sitters. There are rows 
 of stalls on each side of the choir, for the magnates, eccle- 
 
REFLECTIONS IN THE CATHEDRAL. 255 
 
 siastical, civil, and military, facing each other. Before them 
 are seats and desks, slightly elevated, for the readers, singers* 
 and other officers. Then in the area between, directly in 
 front of the altar, loose benches are arranged, as also in the 
 transept, for the "common people,'* worshippers of the lower 
 order. About the galleries are arranged pews, for the use of 
 the famiUes of the nobility. The whole plan and arrange- 
 ment of the building is indicative of the various grades re- 
 cognized among the men of this world. It is not copied 
 after the "pattern set in the heavens." And hence the 
 thought stole into my mind, that worldly pride has a little 
 too much to do in the church of God. I can not say it was 
 well founded, but I confess these stalls reminded me of *' Mo- 
 ses' Seat" and one or two parables of the Master. It might 
 have been wrong, but I could not help it. If it was wTong, 
 I have confessed, and hope to be forgiven. 
 
 The well-worn pavement, the gray crevices of the im- 
 mense arches, the stained windows, and lofty columns, all 
 attested the antiquity of this edifice ; and I felt strangely 
 as I gazed upon it. I stood where kings, princes, and noble- 
 men, rich and poor, worshipped eight hundred years ago. 
 Here moulder the bones of monarchs long dead, some slain 
 in battle. Here have resounded the acclamations of praise 
 and thankfulness for friends returned victorious, and here 
 have wept the hearts of the vanquished ! Strange and in- 
 definable thoughts came through my mind, as I lingered 
 about that old cathedral, and caught glimpses of the dark 
 centuries that are past, and some of the stirring events 
 here chronicled. Sad thoughts they were, for, in the so- 
 lemn stiihiess and pompous grandeur here displayed, I 
 could not forget the living world without. The tears and 
 sighs of beggared millions, the clanking chains of oppres- 
 sion, galHng the very hearts of a crushed people, and dri- 
 ving them to madness, or to foreign lands, still rung in my 
 soul, and I could not feel at peace — I could not admire the 
 architectural splendor as I would under other circum- 
 stances. I left the interior without regret. 
 
256 BISlIOP'j COURT. 
 
 Near the main entrance of the nave, on the left, is the 
 Bishop's court, arranged very much in the style of a com- 
 mon court-room in our country, with a bench, witness- 
 stand, and all the appurtenances for a regular trial at law. 
 What the precise legal jurisdiction of the bishop is, how 
 far he is restricted to spiritual matters, and what authority 
 he has over secular sins, I am not able to say, definitely, 
 having never familiarized myself with any other system 
 of jurisprudence than may be found in the Old Book. 
 That, especially the New Testament, has little to say on 
 subjects of this kind, except that we should "judge not, 
 lest we be judged," nor " entangle ourselves in the affairs 
 of this world." The floor and benches were well worn, 
 which led me to infer a large amount of business, of some 
 sort, was done at this court. 
 
 On the opposite side of the entrance is a room enclosed 
 by an iron railing, in which is the tomb of the young Lord 
 Glent worth. An elegant monument has been recently 
 erected, which represents the young nobleman, as large as 
 life, in full dress, lying upon a couch, with a pillow beneath 
 his head, and the whole elevated about four feet above the 
 floor. A linen cloth was spread over it, which the sexton 
 removed, at our request. It is a fine specimen of art, and, 
 what is more, is said to be in honor of a very worthy man. 
 There are several other monuments in the same enclosure, 
 and others inserted in the walls and floor of that part of 
 the building. Some of the lettering is in old Irish charac- 
 ters, but those in the floor are nearly eftaced, having been 
 trod upon for centuries. 
 
 From this part we ascended to the top of one of the lofty 
 towers, which commands a beautiful prospect of the whole 
 city, and a wide extent of the surrounding country. North, 
 the eye wanders to the hills about lake Derg. East and south, 
 over a vast undulating plain, bounded by the hills in Tippe- 
 rary, and those which bound the valley of the Lower Shan- 
 non, and west, down the broad estuaries of that river, to 
 the range of rugged hills which skirt the shores of the 
 
EXTENSIVE A?»'I) Bf-iAUTlFUL rROSPECT. 257 
 
 sea. The scene is vast, varied, and beautiful. From lake 
 Derg, the basin of which is distinctly seen, the line of the 
 Shannon is traced, as it meanders through a lovely valley, 
 with here and there a village, hamlet, elegant mansion, or 
 dingy parapet of a forsaken castle, studding its green banks. 
 Just above, it divides into two branches, and sweeps around 
 the island, on which stands the English or old town, which 
 includes the castle, the church, in the tower of which we 
 are now seated, a convent, and, perhaps, a third of the 
 city. Immediately below the town, the river widens and 
 bends more westward, towards the sea. The site of the 
 city is remarkably fine, at the head of tide-water, and navi- 
 gation, except by canal and steamboats, which ascend the 
 Upper Shannon from lake Derg, by the help of a few locks, 
 as far as Shannon harbor and Athlone. The banks are 
 elevated, so as to give a healthy and pretty appearance to 
 the city. Shipping, strung along the elegant stone quays, 
 the basin into which smaller vessels and canal boats 
 are locked, lying between the English and the New town, 
 the magnificent bridges spanning the main river below the 
 junction, and one leading from King John's castle in the 
 English town, close to which we now are, to Thomond- 
 gate, on the Clare side, and two or three which cross the 
 Abbey branch, which divides the English from the Irish 
 town ; these, and the public buildings are all distinctly 
 seen, embosomed in a rich and beautifully changing coun- 
 try, and present a scene of varied beauty rarely to be met. 
 I do not wonder that Irishmen boast so much of their 
 Emerald Isle. It is, without dispute, so far as I have seen, 
 endowed by nature with a profusion of beauties, and all 
 the sources of abundance, comfort, and wealth, which the 
 heart of man can desire. Strange that such a charming 
 spot of earth s-hould be so disfigured and despoiled by the 
 wickedness of man ! that oppression, misery, and degrada- 
 tion should find such a home to revel in ! But alas, weeds 
 grow best in the richest soil ; and the mildew blights most 
 the fairest flowers! Such are the antagonisms of the 
 
 22* 
 
258 TilE ENGLISH TOWN. 
 
 world, which, here, have been strugghng with the mightiest 
 forces for many centuries, till the wrong has well nigh tri- 
 umphed, and left the true and good to wither into a misera- 
 ble and disgraceful death. 
 
 Near the cathedral is the old castle, or citadel, still occu- 
 pied as an infantry barracks. It stands upon the most ele- 
 vated point of the island, and commands the old city. 
 Not far off is the "Bishop's Palace," and north of it, front- 
 ed by a pretty lawn, is a convent, connected with which 
 there is a public school. Having a desire to see how pub- 
 lic education is conducted in this country, we applied at the 
 entrance door for admission, but were referred to the Lady 
 Superior. We rang at the gate, and a servant came across 
 the lawn from the nunneiy, to know our business. We 
 sent word that two gentlemen from America were desirous 
 of visiting the school under her charge. After some delay 
 an answer was returned, that we might do so in half an 
 hour. We spent this time in looking about the streets and 
 lanes of that part of the city. 
 
 This was the original town of Limerick. It occupies 
 the south end of what is now called King's Island, an ele- 
 vated plat, which descends gently, in all directions, to 
 the river. It bears the marks of high antiquity, its 
 history going back to the fifth century. It was, at one 
 time, in the possession of the Danes, and the architecture 
 of this portion affords proof of the fact, for the Danish or 
 Flemish style of building is often to be seen. After the ex- 
 pulsion of the Danes, it became the royal residence of the 
 Kino-s of Munster. The famous Brian Boroimhe assembled 
 his army here, with which he subdued Leinster, and con- 
 quered Dublin, in 999. He lived here in great splendor, 
 till 1014, when he led the combined armies of the several 
 Irish kingdoms against the Danes, and won the great vic- 
 tory of Clontarf, which, however, cost him his life. In the 
 12th century, the English invaded Leinster at the request of 
 Dermod Mac Murrough, who had refused submission to Ro- 
 deric O'Conner, the King of Ireland, and, in the true policy of 
 
CITY CIIAXGES. 259 
 
 that nation, demanded, as a recompense, the submission of 
 the entire country to their authority. When has England 
 listened to a call for aid without making booty of their 
 bounty ? Having got possession of the East, the English 
 forces, under Strongbovv, Earl of Clare, caused the people 
 to submit to English laws. But Limerick and the West 
 held out till the commencement of the 13th century, when 
 King John succeeded in subjecting it to his authority. 
 Many Englishmen were imported, who took possession of 
 this part of the town, and compelled the native inhabi- 
 tants to settle on the other side of the narrow stream. 
 Hence the names English-town and Irish-town. King 
 John built a fort or castle which still stands at the end 
 of the Thomond bridge, formerly the only entrance to the 
 town. Some of the old walls are also to be seen. 
 
 After the commencement of the New town, a little over 
 half a century ago, wuth wide streets and handsome build- 
 ings, this part has been forsaken by all the wealthy inhabit- 
 ants, who have preferred the elegance and comfort of New- 
 town Perry, to these narrow streets and crowded lanes. 
 Little is to be seen here now but old rookeries, decaying from 
 neglect, and a most squalid and immoral class of inhabit- 
 ants. Some of the old public buildings remain in a dilapi- 
 dated condition, but close beside them is collected filth, 
 misery and vice which baffles description, showing how 
 soon the fairest spots of earth may wither and decay, when 
 touched by the polluted hand of sin, or forsaken by a moral, 
 enterprising, and industrious population. The Irish town 
 has suffered less by the change, for the New is joined imme- 
 diately to it, and therefore it derives some advantage from 
 the general improvement. 
 
 The time appointed having arrived, we returned to the 
 " National School," and, after a long delay, were invited to 
 " walk up." On entering the ante-room, we were presented 
 to the Prioress, who stood, like a statue of marble, in prince- 
 ly dignity, attired in the robes of her order — a white flannel 
 dress, tinged slightly yellow, fitted close about her neck and 
 
2()9 PRfORESS OF A CONVENT. 
 
 waist, and flowing in liberal folds to the ground. A chain, 
 with a cross suspended, was hung about her neck, and a 
 white cap or turban, set gracefully on her head. She be- 
 longed to the order of " The Sisters of Mercy." She was a 
 tall, well proportioned, masculine figure. Her height must 
 have exceeded six feet. Her features were smooth, and 
 well formed, though pale and sad. She might be forty 
 years old. She received us with a slow, graceful courtesy, 
 and a very sHght inclination of the body, and then resumed 
 her former attitude of solemn, conscious dignity, in appear- 
 ance, cold as the frigid marble. 
 
 I confess J felt abashed, awe-struck, for I had not expected 
 such courtly grace, and this was the first time I ever came 
 in contact with any of its pretensions. I had stood before 
 the great men of our nation, presidents, governors, judges, 
 bishops, priests, and school ma'am's, and all sorts of repub- 
 lican magnates, but I never before stood before the superior 
 of an Irish nunnery. Summing up what dignity I could 
 command, I presented my right hand with Yankee honesty, 
 as a token of fraternal regard. She accepted it, but with 
 apparent reluctance, and did not return very warmly my 
 friendly and cordial greeting. Perhaps she thought me rude, 
 and my friend afterwards read me a homily on convent 
 manners, which I had never heard of before. I was there 
 an American, and I would not disgrace my nation by apeing 
 foreign customs. I felt, as I acted, a true respect for my 
 Irish brethren and sisters. This was one, at the head of a 
 whole sisterhood of my father's daughters, and why should 
 I not be sincere, frank, and cordial at meeting with her. 
 
 Never mind, she did not resent my rudeness, but received 
 us as friends. Her countenance did not brighten with a 
 single glimmer of warm feeling, though she spoke the words 
 of sincerity and gratitude. So completely withering has 
 been the mental discipline over the exterior faculties, which 
 link her to mortal and social life. She maintained an ic} 
 coldness during our whole stay ; except once, at one re- 
 mark I made, I saw a faint smile play about her lips, like a 
 
A CLAS.-; OF SL'IIOLARri. 261 
 
 moonbeam on the haze that surrounds an iceberg floating 
 at sea. 
 
 I introduced my friend, made known our object, and we 
 entered, at once and freely, into conversation. She invited 
 us into the school room. Five black and two white nuns 
 were engaged in teaching, and over-looking the classes in 
 different parts of the room. Not one of them appeared to 
 notice our entrance, though I saw them steal glances at us, 
 occasionally, but timorously, as though afraid of being ob- 
 served. Two of them 1 noticed were young, and, except 
 their paleness, of beautiful appearance. The Matron asked 
 one of them to call up a class of girls for us to examine in the 
 various branches of a common English education. They 
 were misses, I should say from twelve to sixteen years old. 
 We found them intelligent, and well advanced in practical 
 arithmetic, geography, history, and grammar ; some of them 
 were excellent readers, pronouncing distinctly, and in that 
 clear, full, rich, voice for which Irish orators are justly dis- 
 tinguished. We were also shown specimens of their chiro- 
 graphy, which were truly elegant. 
 
 I have forgotten the exact number of scholars in the 
 school, but should judge not less than two hundred and fifty, 
 probably more. I remember the matron told me there were 
 eighteen hundred in the several national schools which were 
 under the care of nuns. They were generally comfortably 
 dressed, though many looked poor. The sisters clothe the 
 most destitute, and the civil authorities furnish plain food 
 for their noon-day lunch, which is distributed in the school 
 room. This we were assured is a strong inducement for 
 many to attend school, who, but for it, would be left to grow 
 up in ignorance and neglect, to swell the vast catalogue of 
 miserable wretches, old and young, which swarm in this 
 country, and live in poverty or die of starvation. 
 
 NATIONAL SCHOOLS. 
 
 The " National Schools" are one of the main hopes of 
 
202 NATK NAL SCHOOLS 
 
 Ireland, for which the Enghsh government deserves some 
 praise, though it has failed to give them the importance and 
 privileges they deserve. It has not adopted a thorough, 
 comprehensive, efficient, and liheral system of education. 
 It has been jealous and treated meanly, and grudgingly with 
 this people. It is not long since all learning was confined 
 to the Established church, for which large appropriations 
 were made ; while upon a Roman Catholic teacher, as a 
 school master or private tutor, the punishment of transpor- 
 tation was inflicted. Who can wonder that, under such 
 laws, enforced upon a nation bigoted in its religion, the peo- 
 ple would prefer ignorance to apostacy, and nearly one half 
 grow up unable to read and write. Add to this as a result, 
 perhaps, that many priests have opposed the general and in- 
 discriminate education of the people, for fear they would 
 know too much to be controlled by their false claims. But 
 the people generally have always been anxious to obtain an 
 education, and many, in all ages, have been ripe scholars. 
 
 It is not much over fifty years, since a Catholic was per- 
 mitted to act in the capacity of a teacher, nor is it forty 
 since he received any support from Parliament, while the 
 Episcopal teacher was well paid. In 1811, a society was 
 formed in Dublin, of both Protestant, and Catholics, called 
 the " Kildare St. Society," to unite in a system of national 
 education. The next year Parliament made liberal appro- 
 priations to this society, and withdrew the exclusive aid be- 
 fore given to the church teachers. This society was in 
 character, much like the New York " Public School Socie- 
 ty" — a private corporation entrusted with the expenditure 
 of public money. It insisted upon the Holy Scriptures be- 
 ing read in the schools — the Protestant version to Protest- 
 ants, and the Catholic version to Catholics, but in both cases 
 without note or comment. 
 
 The schools prospered for a time very well, till the 
 Catholic clergy took the alarm, and brought their whole in- 
 fluence against a practice so dangerous as teaching the 
 young to read the Bible 1 They did not allow adults to 
 
AS NOW MANAGED. 203 
 
 read, or to understand it for themselves, and how could they 
 consent to have children deceived and corrupted by a know- 
 ledge of its sacred pages ? Hence, in twenty years, few 
 schools existed, except among the Protestant parts of the 
 kingdom. The clergy had persuaded the people to abandon 
 them, preferring ignorance to knowledge, unless stamped 
 with the " traditions" of the church. It is said the Pope 
 ordered this procedure, fearing, doubtless, his children would 
 become too wise to submit to his dictation in matters of 
 faith and practice ; as the Established church had before 
 found, that with an equal education. Protestantism would 
 be endangered with the superior ability and claims of the 
 Roman Catholics. 
 
 At length, in 1831, Lord Stanly procured the passage of 
 a law which withdrew the grants from the Kildare Society, 
 and constituted a board of education for the poor of Ire- 
 land, including the Protestant and Roman Catholic arch- 
 bishops of Dublin, and other distinguished men of all per- 
 suasiops. This board is entrusted with the outlay of public 
 grants, in building school houses, paying teachers, furnishing 
 books, and managing all the schools which receive aid from 
 the government. Like the common schools in some of oui 
 States, no help is given to those who will not help them- 
 selves. Each town, or neighborhood, district we would say, 
 which will raise a certain amount, receives liberal grants 
 from the board, in most cases equal to seventy per cent. 
 Every four years sets of primary books are furnished gratui- 
 tously, and others at halt cost prices. A normal school has 
 been established in Dublin, on the most approved and 
 thorough plan of education under the direction of the board, 
 where all teachers viust be graduated. Model schools in 
 each county are also established. 
 
 The management of the schools is on the most liberal 
 plan. Neither prayers nor the reading of the Bible, nor 
 any attempt at proselytism is allowed, during the regular 
 hours; though the clergy of any sect may visit the schools 
 and, out of school hours, teach what they choose. The fol- 
 
264 THE BIBLE IN SCHOOL. 
 
 lowing excellent summary of christian duties, prepared by 
 the Catholic archbishop of Dublin, I saw suspended in the 
 school rooms we visited. 
 
 " Christians should endeavor, as the Apostle Paul commands them, to * live 
 peaceably with all men,' even with those of a different religious persuasion. 
 Our Saviour, Christ, commanded his disciples to ' love one another.' He 
 taught them to love even their enemies, to bless those that cursed them, and to 
 pray for those who persecute them. He himself prayed for his murderers. 
 Many men hold erroneous doctrines, but we ought not to hate or persecute 
 them. We ought to seek for the truth, and to hold fast what we are convinced 
 is the truth ; but not to treat harshly those who are in error. Jesus Christ 
 did not intend his religion to be forced on men by violent means. He would 
 not allow his disciples to fight for him. If any persons treat us unkindly, we 
 must not do the same to them ; for Christ and his Apostles have taught us not 
 to return evil for evil. If we would obey Christ, we must do to others, not as 
 they do to us, but as we would wish them to do to us. Quarreling with our 
 neighbors and abusingf Ihem, is not the way to convince them that we are in the 
 right, and they in the wrong. It is more likely to convince them that we have 
 not a Christian spirit. We ought to show ourselves followers of Christ, 
 who, ' when he was reviled, reviled not again,' by behaving quietly and kindly 
 to every one." 
 
 A plan has been suggested to incorporate the historical 
 parts of the Bible, together with the precepts and illustra- 
 tions, in a book to be read in the schools, and the Board, I 
 believe, have agreed, with perfect unanimity, to recom- 
 mend such a work, but whether it has been executed, I am 
 not able to say. It was understood that the reading of 
 such scriptural lessons was to be left optional with the pa- 
 rents in the different localities. Nobody certainly could 
 object to such a course. In fact, every thing has been 
 managed in good faiih by the Board, and the great body 
 of the community have seconded their efforts. The 
 Catholics, generally, have approved the plan, and the 
 priests, as in the case mentioned at Tralee, have urged 
 their people, from the pulpit, to avail themselves of these 
 opportunities to educate their children in the knowledge 
 indispensable to a successful and honorable life. The 
 Presbyterians, Methodists, Independents, Unitarians, Qua- 
 kers, and in fact all sects, have joined in this noble and bene- 
 
HOSTILITV OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 265 
 
 volent enterprise. But, strange to say, a large portion of the 
 Established Church oppose it most strenuously — more vir- 
 ulently than the Catholics did the former method. The 
 most ridiculous, abusive, and slanderous language is em- 
 ployed against the liberal course pursued by the Board of 
 National Education. 
 
 I could not account for this bitter hostility, had I not 
 witnessed a like conflict in some parts of our own country ; 
 for, so far as I can learn, the whole objection originated in 
 the clause which leaves the reading of the Bible optional 
 with the parents. The very matronly Church wants to 
 enforce King James' translation upon the young as the 
 " true word of God." They forget that on the title-page of 
 that version it is said to be " appointed to be read in the 
 Churches^ It says nothing of schools ! That is a mat- 
 ter left discretionary, for those who should encourage a 
 more liberal scheme of popular education. I have asked 
 several for a solution of this Episcopal opposition to the 
 general diffusion of useful knowledge. The only answer I 
 get is, that it is calculated to bring the Established Church 
 into disrepute, and help sustain the " old harlot that sitteth 
 on seven hills." I never hear that expression without in- 
 quiring after the conduct of her Eldest Daughter ! 
 
 In spite of the opposition of the Establishment, mani- 
 fested in many ways, the Board have gone steadily forward 
 with their Christian work, and have had great success. I 
 am told more than four thousand schools have been estab- 
 lished, which are attended by over five hundred thousand 
 children.* This is doing gloriously. It should be remem- 
 
 * The Church Establishment had, last year, only 116,968 enrolled schol- 
 ars in 2,000 schools, scattered all over the kingdom. These are parochial 
 schools, patronized by the nobility, gentry, and church magnates, whose mo- 
 ney and zeal are given freely for their support ; though, as yet, the govern- 
 ment has refused to bestow the grants asked for. By the report I see that 
 57,G33 pupils are the children of Episcopalians, 14,697 of Dissenters, and 
 44,688 of Roman Catholics. These are not much better schools than the 
 others, from which they are distinguished by two considerations : First, They 
 insist upon a thorouglily sectarian education. Every teacher must be a mem- 
 
 23 
 
266 IIONORAULE CONDUCT 
 
 bered that these schools are generally patronized by the 
 children of the poor, but such poor as are able to pay a 
 portion of the expense. This fact I regret more than any 
 other, inasmuch as there are thousands of families who 
 have no means at all, to pay any part of their children's 
 education, as in cases mentioned at Cloghereen. We 
 meet with innumerable families too poor to educate their 
 children. In such cases, under the present arrangement, 
 private charity is to be invoked, or the children of the 
 poorest classes must grow up, after all, in ignorance. The 
 large school we have above described, in connection with 
 the convent of the " Sisters of Mercy," is an illustration 
 of the necessity of this kind of aid. 
 
 I again mention, with feelings of the profoundest satis- 
 faction, the honorable and truly Christian conduct of the 
 Catholic clergy, and people generally, in reference to the 
 
 ber of the Established Church, and not only cause the Bible to be read as a 
 part of the school exercises, but also give special instruction in the doctrines 
 and formularies of the church, especially to all the children of parents in her 
 communion, and to such others as will consent to such proselyting interfer- 
 ence. These schools are placed in the superintendence of the parochial cler- 
 gy, who have the right to interfere and direct in their management. Second- 
 ly, They are the schools of the higher classes, of the aristocracy, and are at- 
 tended by children who are not permitted to associate with the common peo- 
 ple. They are sustained for the purpose of preserving distinction and sustain- 
 ing rank, as well as the Episcopal Church ! 
 
 Hence it is not surprising that they have succeeded so well. They have 
 wealth, influence, pride, and religious zeal and bigotry in their favor, and all 
 the appliances necessary to great prosperity, and need not the charity of Par- 
 liament to help them forward. It is regretted that a more liberal spirit can 
 not be infused through them, that the " better classes" are so determined to keep 
 up invidious distinctions among the young, and thus hinder the moral and in- 
 tellectual elevation of the nation. But such is aristocracy, and such is secta- 
 rianism, in all ages and countries, let the name be what it may. In our own 
 boasted land of free and republican schools, a society taking the lofty name of 
 " National Education" has been formed, to educate for, and send teachers to 
 the Western States, of a particularly religious stamp. Anti-republican and un- 
 christian as the movement is, it finds many friends and advocates. But I am 
 thankful that neither there nor here are the governments guilty of approbating 
 such inconsistencies. 
 
OF THE CATHOLIC CLERGY. 267 
 
 present liberal system of national education. Too much 
 can not be said in their praise, for this noble demonstration 
 in behalf of their countrymen. It is a triumphant refuta- 
 tion of the accusation that they are the advocates of igno- 
 rance. I can not assert^ with confidence, that they have 
 fully changed their ground upon this subject. But if they 
 have, there is the greater reason for joy and approbation. 
 It is one step, and an important one, towards Irish 
 emancipation ; better and wiser than all the Repeal move- 
 ments of O'Connel, or republican attempts of less prudent 
 agitators. 
 
 It may be regretted that objection is made to the public 
 and formal reading of the Scriptures. But the propriety 
 of that measure has been questioned by many honest and 
 zealous Protestants, in England and America, who respect 
 the authority of the written Word as highly as any can, 
 and repudiate, in toto, the false and ridiculous traditions 
 of the Romish church. It is a great cause of lamentation 
 that the Established clergy are so bitterly opposed to this 
 liberal system. It is the best, if not the only method, by 
 which the hatred and hostility of the churches and races 
 can be removed, and any thing like union and peace be se- 
 cured to this distracted nation. Let children of all ranks, 
 races, and religions be educated in the same school, and the 
 next generation will know nothing of the social evils that 
 now exist. It does seem as if there was no mercy, no re- 
 spect for the welfare of the Irish people on the part of the 
 Eno-lish, but a settled determination to crush the hope of 
 the nation, by opposing every measure which government 
 may adopt for their amelioration, enfranchisement as a 
 part of the British empire. 
 
 As a Protestant and a republican, I have no sympathy 
 nor respect whatever for the Roman Catholic faith and 
 pretensions, as such ; but I love justice and humanity from 
 a sentiment deeper than sect or nation, I trust, and there- 
 fore speak as I do upon this subject. Had the church 
 party at once and heartily joined in the plan of Lord Stan- 
 
208 OPPOSITION OF THE STATE CHURCH. 
 
 ley for a liberal system of national education, instead ol' 
 opposing it, tlie ten years past would have advanced the na- 
 tion half a century, and could have saved it from the sights of 
 poverty, ignorance and crime which now so disgrace all 
 parts of it, and agitate it to the very centre. But with a de- 
 gree of madness, stupidity, and bigotry the most reprehen- 
 sible, they have held out in opposition to the acts of the 
 government, and the pleadings of philanthropy, and used 
 their utmost endeavors to paralyze these efforts and destroy 
 the forlorn hope of Ireland's redemption. And they have 
 succeeded but too well ; not so much by the numbers of chil- 
 dren they have persuaded from the National schools, as by 
 keeping up and increasing a most inveterate hatred be- 
 tween the inhabitants, wherever they could. 
 
 It does really seem as if the Church, and its supporters 
 and abettors, were determined to extirpate by ignorance, 
 persecution, oppression, and famine, the whole Irish race, 
 that the lands, lakes, and streams of this beautiful island 
 they have so long coveted may be theirs. I am every 
 hour more thoroughly convinced that such is the settled 
 policy of the Anglo-Irish population, and that the govern- 
 ment winks at their doings, except in pretence. I should 
 not be surprised if another half century should see the 
 Irish people all banished, by an indirect expulsion, or by a 
 positive edict, as in Cromwell's time. The Church and 
 the landlords seem to contemplate such an event with 
 great satisfaction, and to hurry it on as fast as they can. 
 
 But liere comes in another view of the subject, alike re- 
 prehensible on the part of the Catholics, or, rather, a por- 
 tion of them, who have the interest of party and sect more 
 at heart than the good of the nation, and the honor and 
 happiness of humanity. I mean the opposition lately 
 shown on the part of the " Roman See" to the extended 
 and completed system of national education. The govern- 
 ment, in accordance with the advice of the Board, had 
 adopted measures for the establishment of colleges in the 
 dift'erent provinces, to give opportunities for a thorough and 
 
OPPOSITION OF THE ROMAN SEE. 2G9 
 
 finished education. The operations before noticed referred 
 only to a common education in the useful sciences, and 
 were designed principally for the poorer classes. The col- 
 leges were established for those who were able and willing 
 to pursue a course of classic education. The same liberal 
 basis was adopted, which lay at the foundation of the ele- 
 mentary schools. All sectarian interference was strictlv 
 forbidden, while a proper respect for the authority of reli- 
 gion, and a strictly moral life were distinctly enforced. 
 But theology was to form no part of a regular course. 
 Professors in the various departments were all appointed 
 from the ranks of laymen, and irrespective of sectarian 
 bias. They are men of enlarged and liberal views, well- 
 educated, and every way fitted for apt teachers. It is un- 
 derstood that the dignitaries in the Romish church were 
 pleased with this arrangement, as well as with the grants 
 given to the Maynooth college, which is avowedly Roman 
 Catholic. 
 
 All went well, however, till a rescript from the mana- 
 gers of the Church at Rome was received, which condemns 
 these coilefjres as " Godless institutions," calculated to sus- 
 tain infidelity and irreligion, and subvert the work of 
 grace, and insists, pertinaciously, that all the true and faith- 
 ful children of the Church shall withhold their encourage- 
 ment from them, and devote all their influence to the sup- 
 port of a Catholic university, where the young men can 
 be nursed in the saving principles of the " Holy Catholic 
 Church." 
 
 This movement, it is supposed, was got up in retaliation 
 for the course pursued by the " Church Society," in refu- 
 sing to act harmoniously in the management of the Na- 
 tional Schools. It is much to be lamented, that a Pope 
 who has gained some reputation for liberality, should adopt 
 a policy so destructive to the peace and })ermanent pros- 
 perity of this island. No doubt he has been deceived by 
 the fabrications of designing and malicious priests, who 
 are afraid that evils will attend the free education of the 
 
 23* 
 
270 BLIGHTING INFLUENCE 
 
 people, or else, would take vengeance upon the govern- 
 ment Church. It does seem as if every effort to redeem 
 this nation, however wise, just, and liberal, is destined to 
 failure, through the bitter hatred and perpetual animosity 
 of sectarists. The British Parliament deserves much cre- 
 dit for keeping aloof from this partisan and suicidal war- 
 fare, and I can but hope the government will keep straight 
 on in its determination to give a liberal and unsectarian edu- 
 cation to the young men of Ireland. A few years will 
 convince the most sceptical and bigoted of the wisdom and 
 humanity of this course. The measure will be sustained, and 
 these schools will stand up the pride and glory of the nation, 
 when party zeal and sectarian hostility are lost, like the 
 darkness of night, in the universal enlightenment and libe- 
 rality which shall soon prevail all over the world. 
 
 The good matron expressed her opinions very freely on 
 many subjects, and exhibited a large share of knowledge in 
 the domestic affairs of her nation and our own. She 
 spoke of several pupils who had left her tuition and gone 
 to America, most of whom had made out very well. She 
 also expressed the highest admiration of our country, espe- 
 cially for the generous conduct of our citizens towards 
 her famished countrymen last year. 
 
 The hour for dismission having nearly arrived, we took 
 our leave, thanking her for her kind attentions, while she 
 expressed, in words, her great gratification at receiving a 
 visit from us, and bestowing manv blessings, and prayers 
 for our successful journey and safe return. But she, all the 
 while, manifested the same cold and reserved dignit}^ as at 
 first — the result, no doubt, of the severe austerity of her 
 manner of life. I can not believe that human nature re- 
 ceives its highest attainments by this system of training. 
 There is wanting that vivacity, spirit, and cheerfulness, so 
 often commended in the teachings of Jesus and his apos- 
 tles. The acts of benevolence, and even a whole life con- 
 secrated to virtue and charity, I can understand and appre- 
 ciate. But I can see no propriety in the cold, stiff formal- 
 
I 
 
 OF A MONASTIC LIFE. 271 
 
 ity and exclusiveness of the ascetic life. It is a withering 
 misdirection of the tenderer sympathies and holier affec 
 lions of the human heart — the extreme of the rash, impe- 
 tuous, and violent passions of persons of mere impulse. 
 Christianity indicates a steady, regular, full flow of the 
 kindliest feelings, and the friendliest interchange of the so- 
 cial and domestic affections, controlled by reason and good 
 judgment ; and not a refusal to apply to these sources of 
 present, innocent enjoyment, and growing happiness. 
 Still, in the present admixture of affairs in this imperfect 
 world, it is well, undoubtedly, that these monastic orders 
 exist. They have a space and a mission appointed them, 
 and help do something to make up the sum and variety of 
 a perfect whole. They are not an end, however— only a 
 means ; and, for all their good works, deserve to be praised, 
 while for their errors we have forgiveness, and for their 
 miseries a tear. 
 
 The Irish-town, viewed by daylight, is a decided im- 
 provement, in some respects, upon the other. Its streets are 
 wider, its houses generally better, and its inhabitants less 
 squalid and wicked : at least we saw less open shame and de- 
 graded misery, though quite enough of both. Ne^jr one of the 
 bridges which joins these towns, are the extensive flouring 
 mills of the Russels, the great business men of the city. 
 They are said to be immensely rich ; to own, in addition to 
 these mills, distilleries, breweries, and a " pig factory," con- 
 taining nearly a million of pigs, which number are slaugh- 
 tered here annually, besides several ships engaged in the 
 American trade. 
 
 There is in other parts of the city large glove, brush, 
 cotton, blonde, and lace manufactories. In the latter it is 
 said over one thousand girls are constantly employed, and 
 that an article, equal in beauty and goodness to the best 
 Mechlin lace, is manufactured in them. In fact, as before 
 remarked, the city presents the evidence of a fair amount 
 of enterprise, industry, and thrift. 
 
272 A READING-ROOM. 
 
 Coming down the main street, we were invited into the 
 large, elegant, and well furnished reading-room. Files of 
 English, Irish, Continental, and American papers were ar« 
 ranged about the spacious apartment, and forty or fifty well 
 dressed, and intelligent looking men were busy reading them, 
 or discussing the movements of the government, and the 
 conduct of the agitators. We read and listened, and 
 found most of the papers and the talkers to be truly loyal. 
 I busied myself also — for a time, in copying from a Limerick 
 paper, the number and character of the ejectments which 
 had taken place in that neighborhood, within a short time 
 previous. From one estate seventy- two families, of five 
 hundred and twenty-one persons, had been turned houseless 
 and friendless upon the world ; from another, twenty-one 
 families, one hundred and nine persons; from another, thir- 
 ty-three families, and one hundred and eighty-two ; and so 
 on, till I counted up from two papers, over seventeen 
 hundred persons who had been forcibly ejected from their 
 homes, and from all means of subsistence. 
 
 I noticed particularly the merciful conduct of one land- 
 lord — a clergyman, which was given as a specimen of true 
 philanthropy, and Christian benevolence, in contrast with the 
 more barbarous cruehy of other cases described. Wishing 
 to get rid of his tenants, instead of turning them out pen- 
 niless, to shirk by beggary or plunder, as so many others 
 had been, he gave to each family, for their improvement, 
 half enough to pay their passage to America, in case they 
 actually went. This case was lauded to the skies, and of- 
 fered as an example for others to imitate.* 
 
 There are often cases of the grossest cruelty and in- 
 justice, in the ejectment of tenants, who do not please the 
 
 * Numerous cases came to my knowledge afterwards, where the landlords 
 had bought up leases and tenant rights, on condition the ownei's would remove 
 to America ; and also other instances where collections had been made to send 
 persons from the workhouses — paupers and persons guilty of small crim&i — 
 to our country for us to support. Such is the glory of British philanthropy 
 and justice ! and such the source of the wretchedness and high taxes vrhich 
 abound in our cities ! 
 
EJECTMIONTS. 27. S 
 
 landlord, middleman, or the agents, or who stand in the way 
 of the introduction of some English or Scotch tenants, who 
 understand better the arts of agriculture, or are more 
 supple to further the ambitious projects of their noble mas- 
 ter ! Sometimes a sporting landlord, long an absentee, 
 wants to lay out a hunting park, and therefore drives off fif- 
 ty or a hundred families, from their homes, turns four or five 
 hundred poor helpless creatures, empty-handed, upon the 
 cold charities of the world, who must beg, steal, or starve, 
 for there is no chance for them to work, and thev have no 
 means with which to obtain a lease, nor to get " till Amir- 
 
 iky." 
 
 Talk of Southern slavery ! In 'practice it is not a thou- 
 sandth pert as wrong, as cruel, and abominable as the tenant 
 system of Ireland. Our planters are obliged to treat their 
 slaves mercifully, to provide for them in sickness and old 
 age, and always give them enough to eat. But here if the 
 rent is not paid, the constable is called in, and the tenant 
 distrained, and if he can not pay he is evicted — wife and 
 children turned penny less upon the world to dig a shelter 
 in a bog, or build one by the stone wall, and get his food as 
 best he can. I abominate the American slave system from 
 the bottom of my soul. What then must be my feelings in 
 the midst of such scenes of wrong and suffering as abounds 
 in all parts of this ill-fated country. They are indescriba- 
 ble.* 
 
 * " In Gal way Union, recent accounts declared the number of poor evicted, 
 and their homes leveled within the last two years, to equal the number in Kil- 
 rush — 4,000 families and 20,000 human beings are said to have been here also 
 thrown out upon the road, houseless and homeless. I can readily believe the 
 statement, for to me some parts of the country appeared like an enormous 
 graveyard — the numerous gables of the unroofed dwellings seeming to be 
 gigantic tombstones. They were, indeed, records of decay and death far more 
 melancholy than any grave-yard can show. Looking on them, the doubt arose 
 in my mind, am I in a civilized country ? Have we really a free constitution ? 
 Can such scenes be paralleled in Siberia or Calfrarla ;" — P. Scrope, M. P. 
 Notes ox Ireland. 
 
 " Dear Sir : I have been for the last ten days through the Counties of 
 Limerick, Galway, Clare, and across thence to the King's County All 
 
274 ENGLISH COMl'ASSlUN 
 
 I am overwhelmed ! Oh England, thou boasted land of 
 freedom and justice, of philosophy and nobleness, of reli- 
 gion and philanthropy, — English laws, the models of chris- 
 tian jurisprudence — British honor and magnanimity — spirit 
 of Blackstone and Wilberforce — speeches of Peel, and 
 Russell — glory of Wellington, himself an irishman — pride 
 and extravagance of Victoria! What meaneth these roof- 
 less huts, these starved stomachs, cadaverous faces, naked 
 limbs, and scattered corpses ! Have ye compassion for the 
 well-fed, laughing, singing, shining black men of our repub- 
 lic ? It is well. But remember "charity begins at home " 
 When ye have purged away the wrongs and miseries of 
 your own sea-girt isles, then come to our relief But till 
 then stand mute, in shame ! Who ever heard of the starva- 
 tion of slaves, whether crops fail or not ? But who has not 
 heard of the famished thousands of Ireland, whose carcasses 
 are strown over the lands of " noble lords, and right honor- 
 able barons," who live in magnificence and luxury in Lon- 
 don, and help make laws for the empire, and still weep 
 crocodile tears over the wrongs of American slavery ? Oh 
 Heavens, is there no cloud to cover the disgrace of earth ! 
 
 I also read in one paper a very precise account, which 
 ran thus : " Her majesty, with his royal highness, and the 
 Prince of Wales took an airing in Hyde Park this morning. 
 Her majesty was clad in," — too much fustian for me to 
 copy. In another part of the same paper was a glowing 
 account of a drawing-room at St. James', with a full and 
 particular account of the dresses of the noble ladies in at- 
 tendance, the wives of several Irish lords among them. 
 The dress of one of these ladies would have purchased food 
 enough to have saved the lives of fifty starving persons, who 
 
 attempts to depict the existing state of the misery of the masses beyond the 
 Shannon must come utterly short of the truth. All that tract of country 
 from Killaloe to Portumna, on the Galway side of the Shannon, is lying 
 waste and uncultivated, -\bout three out of four of the miserable huts are 
 unroofed. Some of the former inmates are dead, some in the union, and 
 some few huddled together in one or two of the huts still existing. The men 
 generally have perished." — Evening Packet. 
 
FOR AMEIHCA V SLAVERY. 275 
 
 have been ejected from their rights lor the non-payment of 
 rent. But no, that is nothing ! What are the Hves o^ fifty 
 poor, ignorant Irish Catholics to a diamond pin or a satin 
 dress ? Nothing, sir, nothing ! Away with your radical 
 democracy, sociahsm, " sickish sentimentaUty." You use 
 seditious language ! You speak against the Queen. But I 
 speak in the name of the King of kings, and Lord of lords. 
 Art thou a Christian ? Thou professest to be. Thinkest 
 thou then that God will hold thee guiltless of the life of thy 
 starved tenant — thy brother ? Hast thou no care, no wish 
 for his soul, that it may be saved — for his life, that it may 
 be spared ? What have these poor little children done to 
 deserve such neglect — such abuse — that they should be 
 turned out of doors to starve in the fields, or in the road, 
 and there lay unburied — while thou hast no need for their 
 poor mud hovels, but begrudged them even those ? Canst 
 thou rest in peace, while these tortured souls are crying to 
 heaven for mercy, as their bodies lay quivering on the cold 
 ground till death comes to their relief? Dance on, then, in 
 your royal court robes of gilt and satin, and eat what you 
 can of the delicate dainties set before you, but know that 
 for all this, thou and thy country shall be brought into judg- 
 ment ! But one thing I beseech of you, for your own sakes 
 —do not squander your tears upon the poor slaves of 
 America while you have so much more need of them at 
 home ! It is needless. 
 
 After some hours spent in writing, we took a walk across 
 the Wellesley bridge, a magnificent structure, which we in- 
 spected closely and with admiration. We have few such 
 specimens of solid, and thorough architecture in the bridges 
 of our country. It consists of five large elliptic arches ex- 
 tending from the solid stone quay across the Shannon. An 
 elegant stone balustrade forms the parapet on either side, 
 and the roadway is level and wide. The end on the city 
 side is formed of a swing for the admission of vessels 
 through the lock into the basin above. In our country this 
 
276 THE LIMERICK-STONE. 
 
 bridge and the quays adjoining, would be considered a great 
 curiosity. They are so too us, and can not fail to be at- 
 tractive to everybody, as massive works of art. 
 
 The inhabitants complain, and probably not without 
 cause, that the government ought to add to the other im- 
 provements, a good dock for the better security of the 
 shipping. It is said that strong gales often unmoor vessels 
 and strand them on the opposite shore, or dash them against 
 the bridge and quays with great destruction. By some, it 
 is added, that the outlay of a small amount of money would 
 remove the bars from the lower river, and admit vessels of 
 all sizes, such as are novi^ compelled to unload below the 
 town. On the merits of these complaints, I am not capa- 
 ble of forming a judgment ; but there seems to be force in 
 them, much greater than in many other things which have 
 received the notice of government. Employment would, 
 at least, be aiforded to many now idle, and a permanent im- 
 provement be gained, which would be of great advantage 
 to the city and nation. 
 
 From the bridge we passed the Royal Pauper House, 
 or barracks — the curse of liberty, and the poverty of the 
 nation — to the famed " Limerick-Stone," near the Thomond 
 bridge. On this stone the treaty of Limerick was signed, 
 in 1692, which ended its liberties, after a noble struggle, 
 the year previous, against the English army, commanded 
 by King William in person ; compelled to surrender to the 
 superior numbers under General Ginkle, afterwards created 
 a nobleman by the gift of a large domain, under the title 
 of the Earl of Athlone. Whether any " royal or noble 
 blood" was thus infused into his veins, does not appear 
 from the account, but his descendants have held the hono- 
 rable right to oppress the Irish population as much as they 
 pleased ever since. The stone itself has been raised from 
 the bank of the river, so as to appear prominent above the 
 street. The inscription on it is much worn, but we learned 
 that it was upon this stone that the nobles of the beleaguered 
 city signed their submission to English dictation — the con- 
 
A vvoijiv HOUSE. 277 
 
 eluding act in the drama of English intervention, besought 
 by Dermod Mac Murrough four hundred years before ! 
 A not unfrequent result of English interventions. 
 
 From the bridsje we visited a work-house on that, the 
 Clare side of the river, and had a conversation with the 
 overseer, whom we met near by. We had no desire to in- 
 spect it. It is a large building, and the outside appearance 
 is very respectable. The keeper made a bitter complaint, 
 alledging that the immense taxation of Irish property 
 is the cause of the ruin of the country. I at once 
 guessed he was a landowner, which he confessed after- 
 wards. This class are for ever grumbling about exorbitant 
 taxes. In fact, no body seems to be satisfied in this coun- 
 try. All complain in one way or an other. Most assert 
 that the "poor-law" is the great evil — the prolific source 
 of all the misery, forgetting that fifty thousand soldiers are 
 quartered in the country, and as many policemen, who 
 must be paid and fed, to say nothing about the millions ex- 
 ported annually, to feed and clothe absentee landlords, and 
 pay for their extravagance and carousals, for which no re- 
 turn is made. 
 
 On the side of the hill, overlooking the city and river, is 
 situated a splendid mansion of some body, whose name I 
 did not learn The grounds about it are laid out and or- 
 namented with princely magnificence, and, but for the ho- 
 vels of the poor near by it, would make a beautiful appear- 
 ance. As it is, it appears like a " pearl in a swine's snout." 
 The front garden is adorned with statues of heathen gods, 
 lions, and eagles — kings of men, of beasts and birds ! I at 
 once concluded he must be a true and loyal knight, for 
 these are fit emblems of one whose splendor contrasts so 
 strangely with the poverty about him. 
 
 Wherever we went, we were beset by beggars, who 
 stuck to us hke the gallinippers of our southern States. 
 We could not shake them off. To give to one was to call 
 about us twenty others more destitute and clamorous. 
 The evening is the time when they issue out from their 
 
 24 
 
278 SETTLING A BILL. 
 
 dens, and loiter about the streets, sit at the corners, about 
 the doors of the hotels and places of resort, every where, 
 stretching out their withered hands, and turning up their 
 sunken eyes, imploringly, with a " The Lord bliss yer 
 honor, an' ye'll give a poor crayture a ha'-penny, till buy 
 soome bread for the childers." 
 
 This is the time, too, when a still more abandoned crew 
 — the morally depraved — crawl out of their lurking pla- 
 ces, and perambulate the streets, in search of their prey. 
 Hosts of these miserable, unfortunate beings patrol the 
 streets, accosting one at every turn, but in a manner so 
 abashed and hesitating as to prove that all sense of virtue 
 and decency is not yet destroyed. We were glad to make 
 a retreat at an early hour to the quiet rooms of our hotel, 
 and find, in writing, reflection, and sleep, a relief from the 
 niseries we had witnessed. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MORE TALK THAN TRAVEL. 
 
 Settling a Bill. — The Canal. — O'Brien's Castle. — Falls of the Shannon. — 
 Castle Connel. — Tipperaiy. — Causes of Outrages. — Remedies. — Struggle 
 for Land. — Evictions. — Toomevara. — Intimidations. — Landlords at Fault. 
 — Good Usage makes Good Tenants. — Many Proofs. — American Farm- 
 ers. — Hints for Englishmen. 
 
 TO KILLALOE. 
 
 May 24. — We rose at an early hour, and, as little more 
 was to be seen, busied ourselves with writing, till the family 
 began to stir, when we called for our biH — and a small one 
 it was not. Several articles were inserted which we had 
 never seen. But there was no use in quarreling with the 
 handsome daughter of Mr. O'Grady, who managed the do- 
 mestic and financial affairs of the house, and answered to 
 all the items at which we demurred, after we had sent a 
 demurrer, by boots, to O'Grady himself The daughter 
 
HIGH CHARGES. 279 
 
 would not disturb his slumbers though the sun was two 
 hours high, but she would assure us that the bill was ex- 
 actly just, for she had kept it herself, and it was right. It 
 was of no use to tell her that she had inserted several items 
 which must have been ordered by some less temperate than 
 ourselves. She, doubtless, thought we ought to have or- 
 dered all she had charged us, and that, therefore, it was 
 our loss, and not hers, if we had not had it. So we "paid 
 up" with as good grace as our stifled rage would permit, 
 but neither " boots" nor " chambermaid" received a frac- 
 tion that time. 
 
 It was it vain that the former followed us with his de- 
 mand. We referred him to his employer, who would, un- 
 doubtedly, make it all right with him out of the enormous 
 bill which he had charged us. Poor fellow ! he persisted 
 that he had nothing to do with that, and should not get a 
 cent above his " chances" for which he had to pay £5 a 
 year. A hard chance this time, my boy ; for we can not 
 consent to be charged twice the amount we should have 
 paid at Cruise's, or any other hotel in the kingdom, for no 
 better fare, and then be dunned afterwards, simply because 
 you happen to know we are Americans, and hence suppose, 
 as you say, that we are rich. That is a poor return for the 
 little token of kindness we showed you last year. Make a 
 fair charge, the usual price, and we will not complain ; but 
 our generosity we choose to keep in our own hands, to dis- 
 pose of to our liking. Twelve shillings, ($3,00,) for two 
 lodgings, an ordinary breakfast, dinner, and tea, is near 
 double what any decent host in the realm would charge a 
 noblemen. And though we are sovereigns, we are not 
 willing, after such an imposition, to make presents on de- 
 mand. 
 
 Budgets in hand we hastened to the canal landing, from 
 which we departed at 7 o'clock, in an iron packet boat, 
 some six or seven feet wide and fifty long. There were 
 not many passengers on board ; for, since the opening of 
 the railroad, a short time ago, most of the travel to Dublin 
 
280 THE CANAL. 
 
 goes that way. There were, however, enough for comfort, 
 and a few of the "better class " The morning was beauti- 
 ful, and we promised ourselves a pleasant ride on lake Derg 
 and the Upper Shannon. We secured our places and paid 
 our fare throug;h to Dublin — fare moderate, and comforts 
 few. No matter, we are here to see how our neighbors live, 
 and would have no alteration on our account. I prefer to 
 see things as they are, that a more correct opinion may be 
 formed of the actual condition of things. 
 
 Along the line of the canal, for some distance, women 
 were engaged in washing in it. For this purpose the}'" 
 either kneeled close to the edge, or else stood a foot or two 
 in the water, and there, washed, "battled," rinsed, and 
 wrung their clothes. Old women and young ones were en- 
 gaged at this work in great numbers, and presented to us 
 an object of novelty worthy of note. 
 
 Not far from the city, the canal crosses the main river, 
 which makes a curve towards the east, and keeps up the 
 west side to O'Brien's bridge, near which it enters the 
 Shannon, along the shore of which boats are towed to the 
 lake just above Killaloe. The valley through which the 
 canal and river pass, is rich and beautiful, and tolerably 
 well cultivated. The shores, at a distance, are adorned 
 with handsome mansions and villas, surrounded by pleasant 
 grounds and rich meadows. The hills back, and the moun- 
 tains in the distance, add much to the beauty of the 
 scenery. 
 
 At a distance, on the right, stands the ancient tower of 
 Castle Connel, close on the opposite bank of the Shannon, 
 near the Doonas Falls. This is said to be a place of much 
 resort by the people of Limerick on Sundays and holidays. 
 During the summer months many come here to reside. 
 The principal attractions are the natural beauties of the 
 location, a chalybeate spring, the rapids of the Shannon, 
 and purity of the air. The only attraction it had for us 
 was the gruff ruins of O'Brien's castle, which stands up in 
 solemn defiance of time and change, a monument of the 
 
SHANNON RAPIDS. 281 
 
 strength and dignity of the kings of Munster. It stands 
 upon a detached rock, close in the town, and looks sullenly- 
 down upon the pigmies who now are content to dwell in 
 mud cabins, indolent, and oppressed, wholly unworthy the 
 great chiefs to whose clan their ancestors belonged. 
 
 I here give the description of the rapids, by an English- 
 man, that my countrymen may know what passes for 
 " sublime grandeur" in " English eyes." 
 
 " The Shannon is here, for more than a quarter of a mile, almost a cataract ; 
 and this, to an English eye, must be particularly striking. It is only in the 
 streams and rivulets of England, that rapids are found ; the larger rivers gen- 
 erally, glide smoothly on without impediment from rocks ; the Thames, Trent, 
 Severn, and Mersey, when they loose the character of streams, and become 
 rivers, hold a noiseless course ; but the Shannon, larger than all four, here 
 pours that immense body of water which above the rapids is forty feet deep, 
 and three hundred yards wide, through and above a congregation of huge 
 stones and rocks, which extend nearly half a mile ; and offers not only an un- 
 usual scene, but a spectacle approaching much nearer to the sublime, than any 
 moderately sized stream can offer even in its highest cascade. None of the 
 Welsh waterfalls, nor the Giesbach in Switzerland, can compare, for a mo- 
 ment, in grandeur and effect with the rapids of the Shannon." 
 
 The rapids are about equal to the falls in the Connecti- 
 cut at Enfield, or in the Ohio at Louisville, in low stages 
 of water. Yet to those unfamiliar with large rivers, and 
 the noise of foaming cataracts, this is naturally an object 
 of much curiosity. To us it had not half the interest of 
 the old castle, because not half the novelty, The Shannon 
 falls, in the distance of fifteen miles, from Killaloe to Lime- 
 rick, between ninety and one hundred feet, more than half 
 of which is in the space between Castle Connel and Castle 
 Troy. At O'Brien's bridge there is a small village, and 
 near the hill of Doonas, are the hamlets of Erina and 
 Cloonlard. There are no other places of consequence till 
 we approach Killaloe. 
 
 On the east bank, is the county of Tipperary, one of 
 the largest in Ireland, and one of the most wretched and 
 restless. From time immemorial this county, bordered on 
 Connaught and Leinster, has been the battle ground of 
 the feuds and strifes between the opposing provinces. In 
 
282 HOW SOME LIVE. 
 
 this region Cromwell disbanded his army after having sub- 
 dued the county, and cleared it of the Catholic population, 
 whom he had driven into Connaught, shipped to other coun- 
 tries, or slain by the sword. Many soldiers settled in this 
 region, and English grandees who supported his govern- 
 ment were rewarded with liberal grants of the best land. 
 The soldiers mingled with the people, married Irish wives, 
 and produced the race of large, well-formed, and handsome 
 people who are found in this portion of the kingdom. But 
 they did not much elevate the moral or temporal condition 
 of the inhabitants. Crushed by the feudal powder, which is 
 ever suspicious of the improvement of dependents, they 
 have struggled in vain for right and liberty, No part of 
 the country has been so ready for revolt as Tipperary and 
 Limerick, and no parts have felt more severely the blighting 
 effects of absentee landlordism. Nenagh, Clonmell, Cashel, 
 and Limerick are names closely allied to the wrongs and 
 struggles of Ireland. Not even Galway, Mayo, SHgo, Clare, 
 or Kent, have suffered so much, for there the people with 
 less information, and less manliness, have submitted to the 
 vilest impositions till no heart of resistance is left them. 
 
 As long as they can, ihey continue to till the soil, and sell 
 all they can produce to pay rent and taxes, except a few 
 potatoes, and when they can do that no longer, they live 
 on "dillisk and dhoolaman, or seaweed," which they gather 
 from the rocks. Potatoes and butter-milk they esteem 
 good living, and call those who are able to have it, "thokey," 
 that is, good livers. Many infuse pepper in water to give 
 taste to their poor potatoes, and eat nothing else for months. 
 When they can get none of these they lay down and die. 
 
 The people of Tipperary and Limerick are not willing 
 to submit to such cruelty ; they will not starve without a 
 struffde. They cling to life with greater tenacity, and 
 every now and then, feel twinges of conscience, and start 
 up with fitful glir*merings of hope, and make a futile at- 
 tempt to subvert the causes of their misery. But all is 
 vain ; and they sink back into a gloomy and sullen despair 
 
OUTRASCS AND INTIMIDATIONS. 283 
 
 and, in the bitterness of their souls seek vengeance on the 
 minions of that power which oppresses them. 
 
 OUTRAGES AND INTIMIDATIONS THEIR CAUSES AND CURE. 
 
 In conversation with some men, this morning, I learned 
 many things about the outrages and intimidations which so 
 frequently occur in this part of the country. They gene- 
 rally originate in a struggle for land, on which alone they 
 depend for a subsistence, and from which they are evicted 
 by the unfeeling landlords and their heartless agents.* The 
 
 * " The county of Tipperary has long possessed the notoriety of being 
 the focus of outrage and disorder. . . . From all I hear, the owner of an es- 
 tate, in former days, kept open house, lived usually in a style beyond his 
 income, aped the expenditure of men of superior fortune, shot, hunted, and 
 got money as he could, to keep going on. Most of the estates are entailed ; 
 the owners married, and every means were resorted to, to raise money. Some 
 times long leases were granted to men of property, in order to obtain funds> 
 who commenced letting out land at an increased rent, to middle-men. The 
 sons of the land-owner grew up, hunted and shot with the father, and would 
 have shot any one who suggested to them that they ought to do some thing 
 to maintain themselves. The sole means of providing for them, was to let 
 to them portions of the estate, which, being usually entailed, could only 
 be done at the least improved rent. The younger sons then got a local 
 standing, became * Squireens,' started shooting and hunting lodges, sub-let 
 THE land, which they never thought of farming themselves, at an increased 
 rent ; and, so long as their father lived, were principally at home. On the 
 death of the father, the elder brother came into the estate, and the knives 
 and forks of the younger brothers were no longer regularly set for them. 
 The stables were not always ready for their horses as long as they pleased, 
 and they found out that they had to support themselves. To do this, an 
 other SCREW was put upon the sub-tenants, and all sorts of chicanery were 
 resorted to by these needy men, to obtain money from those under them. 
 As they could barely live, the usual course was to try and get some govern- 
 ment-place, as they could turn to neither business nor profession. To obtain 
 this the member of Parliament for the county was followed and besieged, and they 
 began to find out that their tenants could be made 40s. freeholders, and that this 
 was an available means of influence. The unfortunate under-tenants were 
 then COMPELLED to subdivide their land with sons, to make voters, in order 
 that, at the next election, these votes might be bargained for a place. The 
 mischief did not cease here. This forced subdivison rapidly increased the 
 population. As there was nothing but the land to live by, the increased 
 population brought competition for land, and eagerness to get any patch, 
 
284 OPPRESSION AND NEGLECT. 
 
 people themselves are wofully ignorant of the arts of hus- 
 bandry, as well as indolent in their habits, and no mduce- 
 ment is set before them to correct either. Land-owners, 
 agents, and middle-men are alike the enemies of the com- 
 mon people, extracting the last penny, pound of butter, and 
 hamper of potatoes for rents, taxes, and tithes, to sustain, 
 in idleness, the very men who cause their misery. Is it 
 any cause of wonder, that hatred and malice should be en- 
 gendered, under such circumstances ; or that passion, 
 stirred to the last pitch of desperation, should seek ven- 
 geance, and count it sweet ? It would require a degree of 
 forbearance not common in an ignorant, neglected, and 
 
 however small, at increased kents. The people, following the teaching, 
 began themselves to subdivide ; and the. ' Squireens' or needy middle-men 
 RAISED THEIR RENTS proportionately to the increased competition lor the land, 
 which they them?clves had brought about. But the increase in population 
 went on ; the absence of any trading or professional knowledge among these 
 s:mall GENTRY, too proud to do or learn any thing, but not too proud to resort 
 to any tricky jobbing to raise money or get a place, brought with it, of course, 
 the absence of any enterprize or any business undertaking, which could afford 
 other EMPLOYMExNT FOE THE PEOPLE than the cultivation of a patch of land. 
 The PEOPLE thus got beaten down, and became serfs, crushed down to the 
 worst food, and the most miserable clothing and dwellings ; and, being neg- 
 lected and without knowledge, they were utterly unable to improve them- 
 selves. ... In England, you some times heard of landlords compelling their 
 tenants to vote for them ; but in Ireland, the tenants' votes were a valuable 
 commodity, not to be given away. They were bargained for places, and I 
 am assured of instances where they have been sold for money, which the 
 landlord himself pocketed. The poor tenants were deprived of even that re- 
 source of the vilest in England — they could not even sell their political fran- 
 chise for a bribe, for their landlords generally sold it for them, and pocketed 
 the amount without consulting them, and compelled them to vote as he liked. 
 Is it to be wondered at that such a system should bear such fmits 1 The 
 
 fruits are now being reaped Estates get into the courts, and receivers 
 
 are appointed, who exact the highest competition rents ; embarrassed land- 
 lords live abroad, or in English towns, and they also exact the highest rents 
 they can. The best tenants, who will live in comfort, are compelled to emi- 
 grate, and the most ignorant and unenterprizing tenants remain, without know- 
 ledge or vieans to improve the land, and striving, by endurance and potato 
 diet, to squeeze on', the rent. They have no means of employment; land 
 they must have, to live, until the struggle for a patch of land has become so 
 desperate, that it is retained by a system of terror and assassination disgrace- 
 ful to any country." — Foster's Letters, p. 331-4. 
 
THE CAUt3E OF OUTRAGES. 285 
 
 abused people like these, to keep cool under such cruel 
 grievances. How could it be otherwise than it is ? If 
 landlords will oppress and abuse their tenants, keep them 
 ignorant and starved, reduce them to brutes what can they 
 expect but brutal returns ? 
 
 The gentleman with whom I conversed gave it as his opin- 
 ion that " bad farming" is more the cause of poverty and mis- 
 ery, in this country than " high rents and taxes ;" that if the 
 people could be taught to improve their lands, they could pay 
 all demands, and live comfortably. There is, doubtless, truth 
 in his remark. But how can these poor creatures begin to 
 improve ? Are the proper men, the land-owners, here to in- 
 struct and help them ?* Are they encouraged to make 
 improvements ? No such thing ; but they have every rea- 
 son to know that if they make lands more productive, they 
 shall be made to pay a correspondingly higher rent, and 
 perhaps be evicted to give place to some other. 
 
 Here, then, it is manifest that the fault, seen upon the 
 surface, is mutual. But the real evil lies deeper than ap- 
 pears. It is, in my humble opinion, in the want of a per- 
 manent right to the soil. I have seen and heard enough 
 of " Anti-rentism," in my own country, to deprecate all 
 land aristocracies, and the whole system of feudal ten- 
 antry, which has come down from the medieval ages of po- 
 litical, religious, and social darkness and depravity. What 
 right, under God, has one man to nineteen, fifty, or a hun- 
 dred thousand acres of that earth which " is His, and the 
 fulness thereof," and which is given to His children, as 
 freely as air or water ? These lords, and earls, and dukes 
 did not buy it. The king gave it to them of his own 
 " mere motion" and loving favor. But how came he — one 
 man ; at times a very mean one — by such an inheritance ? 
 Who gave it to him ? Where is his deed ? In the records 
 
 * The English Commissioners ask, " Do the land-owners take no steps to 
 introduce a better system, such as having a model farm V Mr. Nicholas 
 Maher, who manages an estate ot" 19,000 acres, answers, " No ; there is no 
 6uch thing in the country." 
 
283 THE TENURE 3F LAND. 
 
 of history, written in human blood, and sealed with the 
 stamp of a million deaths. It is his by "divine right." 
 But I should like to see the " patent" under which he 
 claims such boundless territory, which he parcels out to 
 his courtiers so lavishly ! He shows it in his armies, and 
 defends it — not before the chancery of heaven, but on the 
 battle-field ! Cromwell's right to cut, and carve, and give 
 away, was as good as Henry's, or John's, or Elizabeth's, 
 for by might he won it for himself From him and them 
 these landlords claim, and such is England's law, and her 
 judges and armies are ready to enforce it ! This may be 
 all right, on the principle of eternal justice, but I confess I 
 can not see it so. I have not so read Christianity. 
 
 It seems to me the assassinations, murders, and intimida- 
 tions, of which I see so many accounts in the secular pa- 
 pers, are the natural fruit of such a tree as kings have 
 planted — sparsely yielded, when compared with the whole- 
 sale slaughters of Sitric, Strongbow, Ludlow, Carew, 
 and other minions of brute force, who have led hireling 
 foreign soldiery to invade the rights, destroy the peace, 
 slay the innocent, fasten fetters upon the limbs of the hon- 
 est and industrious thousands, and sequester their rightful 
 properties to interlopers, who have rarely graced their pos- 
 sessions with their presence ! These lands have been so 
 secured that, however deeply encumbered, they can not be 
 alienated, even at the demand of an honest creditor. 
 
 Thus the people, disinherited of their rightful possessions, 
 their only sou»'ce of subsistence, have been admitted back 
 on short leases, or, more commonly, as tenants-at-will, 
 so that, at any moment, when it shall please the whim of 
 an old, gouty, capricious landlord, misinformed by his in- 
 triguing agents, or cheated by a set of rapacious middle- 
 men, they can be ejected from their homes, the houses 
 which they, or their fathers, or their ancestors, built with 
 their own hands, pulled down over their heads ; and their 
 wives and little ones turned out pennyless, and, perhaps, at 
 an inclement season, to beg or starve! Work there is 
 
THE MAIN DIFFICULTY. 287 
 
 none, nor any land for them ; for the competition encour- 
 aged by heartless agents, is so great that rents are run up 
 to such an enormous rate that the produce would not pay 
 them, to say nothing about taxes or a living. In this con- 
 dition, revenge is awakened, and, goaded on by the cries 
 of starving families, with no chance of employment, and 
 the work-house full ; who that knows the weakness of hu- 
 man nature, unassisted by enlightened principle, wrapt 
 in ignorance, controlled by passion, trembling with mad- 
 ness, desperate with hunger, and despairing for a better time 
 coming, will wonder at the outrages that follow — the minia- 
 ture of that war which was prosecuted with such deadly 
 and disastrous results, in the names of Kings and Protect- 
 ors, against their forefathers ? Are not such effects the 
 natural results of such causes ?* 
 
 * " While they waste one half the subsistence they might get out of the 
 land, the most frightful struggles for subsistence are going on ; and atrocities 
 and cowardly assassinations are committed which are a disgrace to any coun- 
 try. The Bravo of Italy is more than equalled by the cowardly mffian of 
 Tipperary." — Foster's Letters. 
 
 This will do very well for an English partisan writer. It is wickedness for 
 this people, or any other, to act on the principle of revenge. Better for them 
 to lay down in the bog and die innocently, than to add murder to other sins, 
 by slaying the man who starves them, and without cursing the government 
 which oppresses them. But such is not human nature, as every Englishman 
 and the British government know, very well. I will quote some examples, 
 that my readers may know the provocations which have made this people so 
 " atrocious." 
 
 " Lord Howarden has ejected many tenants for various causes, and takea 
 iheir land into his own possession. This has produced great misery among 
 them, and intense hatred. The life of Mr. Stewart, his agent, has been repeat- 
 edly attempted in consequence. He has, as a means of protection, been ' in the 
 habit of taking two boys, one before and one behind him, on the horse, when 
 he would be riding through the country ; so that he could not be killed with- 
 out one of the boys being shot.' [An evidence that justice is not all extin- 
 guished by vengeance.} The horrid distress of the people drives them to com- 
 mit these atrocities." 
 
 " Amongst poor creatures so reduced, the coonpetition for a patch of con- 
 acre land to live upon is ' dreadful,' says Mr. Bradshaw, a landed proprietor 
 near Tipperary. 
 
 " It is wretched to see the state of some of the poor for want of employ- 
 ment. I may say, and do say it fearlessly, they aie little better than the brut© 
 
Tib^ REMEDIES PROPOSED. 
 
 As far as 1 could learn, the cause of the outrages so often 
 occurring, are, in most cases, traceable to the cruelty of 
 landowners, and hence to the government. The simple 
 explanation of the whole matter is, the j)eople are oppressed 
 and starved. In such a condition, what but hostility can 
 be expected of them ? And who is at fault but they who 
 have produced it, or, having the remedies, refuse to apply 
 them ? 
 
 The remedies proposed to cure these evils are totally in- 
 adequate, because they do not reach the cause. One sug- 
 gests that the government should find work for the people ; 
 
 beasts, for want of employment. They sometimes get employed at a 6d. or 
 8d. a day, and their whole object is, by means of their dung-pit, to get a 
 quarter of an acre of ground ; and they get their living through the year from 
 it." ..." They have miserable huts," says Mr. Jordan, land-agent to Baron 
 Pennefather, " and it is only wonderful how they have patience to live as they 
 do, at all. There were a few shots fired into my own house very lately, but 
 there was nobody shot ; we do not mind these little trifles !" 
 
 " Agricultural laborers," says Mr. J. Loughmane, near Cashel, " are the 
 most miserable men upon the face of the earth, at the present day. I could 
 not describe the situation of the creatures. They have neither food nor rai- 
 ment ; they have no bed-clothes ; the clothes they wear in the day, they must 
 clothe themselves with at night." 
 
 " They are half a year idle for want of employment, and their wives are 
 generally out as paupers in the country," says Mr. O'Flynn, farmer, of New 
 Birmingham. " Their huts are miserable. There are seven, or eight, or nine of 
 them upon one heap of straw, and generally the clothing they have in the day 
 is their night-covering. There is no sheet, or blanket, and those who are last 
 in bed must get up, for they have no clothes to keep them warm. I have 
 witnessed that." 
 
 " Is not this sad story enough to account for the state in which society is here 1 
 The people for the most part here are a fine race. The majority of them are 
 stout, and of an average size, and you see among them many tall and power- 
 ful men. They are a mixed race, very many of them descended from 
 Cromwell's soldiers, who were disbanded in this county, the original deben- 
 tures and grants of land to whom are still extant. . . Near Nenagh, according 
 to the evidence of Mr. M'Cartin, in the midst of all this distress, and misery, 
 and shootings about the possession of land, there is * an immense tract of 
 w«s<e land — the finest mountain land in the world — from 15,000 to 20,000 
 acres of wild land.' And according to the report of Mr. Griffiths, ' it is pro- 
 bable that about 300,000 acres of waste land might be reclaimed for cultiva- 
 tion, and 60,00u acres might be drained for pasture,' in this very county." — ■ 
 Foster's Letters, p. 331-3. 
 
INADEaUATE TO THE DIFFICULTY. 289 
 
 another that farm schools should be established ; another that 
 monasteries should be restored ; another that the Catholic 
 priests should be paid ; another that waste lands should be 
 improved ; another that these outrages should be suppressed 
 by a stronger police force ; another that a more extensive 
 emigration to Australia should be carried on by the aid of 
 government ; another that long leases, or tenant rights, 
 should be given, and so on to the end of the chapter. Now 
 all these, or any of them may or may not afford a temporary 
 relief It is certain none of them contemplate the real, per- 
 manent prosperity of the masses of the people, in a way to 
 attach them to the country. They do not reach the diffi- 
 culty, in a way to remove the cause. They are not radi- 
 cal, nor specific. 
 
 The people are, in all cases, spoken of and treated by the 
 rulers, civil and social, as vassals, as inferior, and dependent 
 upon the will and caprice of the land-owners. Those who 
 would improve the tenure to the land propose no more than 
 a lease of ten or twenty years. And most on the side of 
 power rely mainly on the government lash to whip the peo- 
 ple into peace and prosperity. The days have gone by 
 when absolute power over personal liberty is vested in 
 governments. Christian liberty is too well understood by 
 most enlightened nations to consent to forcible measures. 
 Men must be drawn bv motives and convictions which do 
 not impinge upon individual freedom ; the masses are com- 
 ing to have some indistinct notions of natural rights, and 
 social privileges, and justice and equality between man and 
 man. They have heard the scripture, which saith, " He has 
 made of one blood all nations of men," and that all men 
 have sinned and come short of the glory of God ; that God 
 loved the humblest child of earth, and sent his Son to preach 
 the " gospel to the poor," to deliver the captives, and defend 
 the outcasts. And they have some faith in God, as the 
 Ruler of kings, and Protector of men, and they are not dis- 
 posed to submit to be wronged and starved, while others 
 revel on the sweat, and blood, and sinews of their fellow- 
 
 25 
 
290 THE REMOVAL OF DISABILITIES. 
 
 men. It is a pity they do not understand more fully the 
 true spirit and power of Christianity, for then they would 
 be able to work out their salvation more certainly. But it 
 is vain to talk of this to starving men. They have ears, 
 but they can not hear, and eyes but they can not see, further 
 than to seek vengeance on those who torture them. 
 
 Let the government adopt the strongest measures, but let 
 the scales be even. Let them go to the root of the matter; 
 and first settle the rights of certain men, made of the same 
 materials and subject to the laws of the same divine govern- 
 ment, whose wisdom and justice is impartial. Let it deter- 
 mine, if it can, why one man is put in possession of one 
 hundred thousand acres of land, while another has not a 
 foot ! That done, let it show why these lands are held in 
 perpetual entailment, in defiance of the just claims of law- 
 ful heirs and creditors. When that is done in a satisfactory 
 manner, we will ascend to the branches, and work as 
 busily as any other in cutting out suckers, lopping off dead 
 limbs, and " ejecting" needless branches. I would respect- 
 fully refer her majesty's government, and all friends of Ire- 
 land, to the authority of the holy statute, especially to the 
 commentary of St. Paul, found in 1st Cor. 12th chapter, for 
 information on this subject. 
 
 We have, in part, illustrated this subject, practically, in 
 our country, and the institutions of our government rest 
 upon a firm basis, because every body has an interest in the 
 government. Our greatest danger lies in our landless popu- 
 lation, in slaves, and foreigners, who are made citizens on 
 too easy terms, while yet strangers or alien to the principles 
 of our government. We have not, however, tried what 
 must be done in Ireland — the breaking up of feudal tenures, 
 in order to remove wrongs and secure rights to the people. 
 We have estates, the owners of which are already tyranni- 
 cal, and would be more so but for the power of public opin- 
 ion, which is little else than the concretion of what leads to 
 *' intimidation" in this country. In our republic, law is but 
 the expression of public sentiment. Here, it is the will of 
 
THE IIADICAL CURE. 291 
 
 the few, and those few not the common people, but a race 
 or grade, which claims, not justice, nor merit, but heredi- 
 tary and exclusive right, as the basis of all legislative and 
 executive power. 
 
 Now let these false claims be abolished ; let the estates 
 so long abused by the favorites of the crown, be sold to pay 
 the debts of a profligate nobility and gentry ; let them be 
 bought by the government with the money now squandered 
 on monster armies of soldiers and policemen, needful to 
 keep the people in subjection, and be leased to the inhabitants 
 under certain restrictions, or sold on easy conditions ; then 
 let model farms and practical schools be established, which 
 shall hQ free, and I will venture, with such advantages, and 
 all their disabilities removed, there would be no longer 
 any cause to complain of Irish outrages, and Irish igno- 
 rance, and Irish recklessness, and Irish indolence, and Irish 
 bigotry, and Irish improvidence, and Irish turbulence, and 
 Irish hatred of good government, and Irish ingratitude, and 
 so on to the end of the long list of English complaints and 
 accusations so constantly reiterated. 
 
 I can not see why there is not as much propriety in such 
 a course as there was in the boasted emancipation of West 
 Indian slaves, by purchase and apprenticeship. Irishmen are 
 of as much value to themselves, and to the world, and their 
 life and liberty are as dear to them as they are to Africans. 
 Wherefore, then, are they suffered to be ground to the earth 
 with rents and county-cess, and poor-rates, and tithes, till they 
 can live no longer, and then be ejected from their miserable 
 mud hovels, and left without food or shelter, to beg of other 
 beings as wretched as themselves ? It is easy to complain 
 of such a population, but all severity will be vain, till some 
 steps are taken to awaken their ambition, and rouse their 
 dormant energies, with a prospect of comfort and permanent 
 prosperity before them. They will then toil and suffer as 
 well as any people under heaven. 
 
 The English are for ever complaining of the laziness of 
 the Irish. We never hear that complaint in our country. 
 
292 WANT OF INE. CEMENT 
 
 With aL the other sins laid to their charge — it is a rare 
 thing to hear an Irish man or woman called lazy. They 
 dig our canals, grade our railways, carry our hods, wash 
 our clothes, cook our food, nurse our children, and do half 
 the service of our country, out-doors and in, and no one 
 hears of their laziness. They may be called ignorant, 
 bigoted, dirty, clannish, quarrelsome, drunken, improvident, 
 all sorts of hard names, but never lazy. Nor would they 
 be so at home, if there was any proper motive, any induce- 
 ment for them to work. They harvest the crops of England, 
 and do much domestic service, and no body complains so far 
 as they know, that they do not work as well as the Eng- 
 hsh. It is only at home that they are called lazy. And 
 there they do not work as faithfully as they might. But 
 how can they ? They have been so often cheated, so long 
 oppressed — robbed of their crops for rents, and taxes, and 
 tithes, that they have lost all confidence in land-owners, 
 their agents, and middle-men, and can have no heart to im- 
 prove the land which they do not own, and can not lease, 
 except from year to year. Who does not know, that even 
 among the most enterprising farmers of America, there is 
 no surer way to " run out a farm," — render it unproductive, 
 than to rent it year after year. And this impoverishment 
 of the soil is rendered more certain if it is sub-let in small 
 tracts to different persons. Each wants to make what he 
 can of it, and at as little outlay as possible. 
 
 Such is the way of the world ; and why should it be 
 thought a mark of unheard of stupidity and indolence, 
 when Irish peasants are found in it ? Who blames them 
 for refusing to lay out their strength upon lands to which 
 they can have no claim ? Why should they drain bogs, 
 and recover impoverished and waste lands, which can 
 yield them no reward under two or three years ? It may 
 be said, the landlord, finding them good tenants, would, of 
 course, retain ihem. Perhaps he would — perhaps he 
 would'nt ! In our country, not even the squatters on our 
 new territories would subdue a patch of ground, if they 
 
TO LIVE AND IMPROVE. 293 
 
 did not know they should either purchase it by pre-emption 
 right, or sell their *' betterments" to some other man. Irish 
 land-owners and their agents have become too cunning to 
 give long leases to their tenants, for this very reason: that they 
 would sell out their rights when a good offer was presented. 
 They prefer to have their lands every year in the market, 
 subject to the competition of a starved population, who 
 have no other mode of subsistence. Forced by necessity, 
 they will run up the rent to the highest pitch, hoping, by 
 hard labor, a cheap diet, and kind Providence, to be able 
 to pay it, with the other taxes, and have enough to keep 
 their families alive. 
 
 In this precarious way the people have been living for 
 years, and when the potato rot destroyed the crops, and 
 "free trade" reduced the price of grain, they had no more 
 than enough to pay rents and taxes, and so were left to 
 starve. As many as can, flee to America ; but multitudes 
 have no means to get there, for they have no " lease" 
 nor " tenant-right" to sell, nor credit to hire lands ; of 
 course they can be ejected at the pleasure of the landlord, 
 who has no motive, as in cases before noticed, to help ship 
 them out of the country. He will not be at such needless 
 expense, and so calls in the bailiff, with a posse of constables 
 and policemen, and the work of eviction and destruction 
 commences. The family is dragged or driven from the 
 hut, the little amount of miserable furniture thrown into 
 the street, and the building levelled to the ground. Some 
 times the thatched roofs are set on fire, and the naked 
 walls left, as we saw whole streets of them at Kinsale, on 
 the day of our landing. The work is carried on till a 
 whole village is depopulated, fifty or a hundred houses torn 
 down, and four or five hundred persons turned into the 
 world, without house, or home, or food, or friend.* 
 
 * " It was a piteous spectacle, on Thursday, in the midst of the pouring 
 rain, to see children led by their parents out from their houses into the street 
 to see mothers kneel down on the wet ground, and, holding their children 
 up to heaven, beg relief from the Almighty, and strength to endure their 
 
 or* 
 
294 OUTRAGES, THE NATURAL RESULT. 
 
 Now, I put it to any one, wrong as it may be, whether 
 it is very strange that disorder and outrages should pre- 
 
 afflictions. The cries of bereaved men and women, running half frantic 
 through the streets, or cowering from the rain and wind under the shelter of 
 their poor furniture, piled confusedly about, were atTecting in the extreme. 
 To see, amid all this misery, ten or twelve burly ruffians from Nenagh, assail- 
 ing the houses with crow-bars, and to hear their cnes of exultation as a wall 
 yielded to their assaults, or a roof tumbled down with a crash, the spectator 
 
 should be callous, that could avoid being greatly affected by the scene 
 
 I should suppose that the entire number turned out of their houses on Thurs- 
 day would reach one hundred and fifty families, or six hundred individuals. 
 Of this number I could learn that about thirty families, or, on an average of 
 four to each family, about one hundred and twenty persons were to be allowed 
 other dwellings in the village. So that four hundred and eighty persons, or 
 one hundred and twenty families, would thus appear to be thrown on the 
 * waves of the world,' as some of the unfortunate people themselves stated it. 
 I won't attempt to describe what was indescribable — the goul-harrowing con- 
 dition of the poor wretches in the wigwams, at the time I was leaving Too- 
 mevara, eight o'clock in the evening." — Tipperary Vindicator. 
 
 " The practice of depopulating whole neighborhoods, in emulation of the 
 example so lately set by the Hon. and Rev. Massy Dawson, has been again 
 resorted to, this week, by the Hon. Col. Sewell, according to whose ukase, 
 his agent, Mr. John Kelly, of Woodmount, levelled fifty-six houses at 
 Creggs, near Ballygar, in this county. Fifty-six families turned out, roofless 
 and foodless, to perish by the way-side, without a single penny from the Hon. 
 Colonel to provide even a single meal on their melancholy exodus." 
 
 " The work of extermination is proceeding with all its concomitant hor- 
 rors, throughout this unfortunate country, I have just heard that two hundred 
 persons have been cast out from the Dawson property, in the Glen of Aher- 
 low, and a very large number cleared out from no less than seven properties 
 in the neighborhood of Slievenamon." 
 
 The Archbishop of Tuam says : " On the morning of last Saturday, on 
 setting out from Headsford, the corpse of a young man, who died of hunger 
 on the preceding night, was seen stretched on the road-side. I saw the scenes 
 of eviction and desolation, as I traversed the parish to the shores of Lough 
 Corrib. I could not believe that any one parish could exhibit so many monu- 
 ments of heartless cruelty. It is no wonder if death, in every form of disease 
 and starvation, followed in the train of this depopulating system. The mis- 
 ery, however, was deepening as we advanced, and the wretchedness of the 
 poor of this remote and much-neglected region is such that I will not occupy 
 the time, nor harrow the feelings of the reader by its description." 
 
 " In the Kilmsh Union, county of Clare, several of the evicted tenantry 
 are living in turf-pits, scooped out of the bogs, and covered in at the top with 
 some branches of trees. From these cavities the smoke, at times, is seen as- 
 cending, and the passer-by would hardly have known that the bog was inhab- 
 
OF NEGLECT . WD ABUSE. 295 
 
 prevail among a people so circumstanced ? It certainly is 
 no new thing under the sun, which should be seized upon 
 in justification of the stringent measures invoked from the 
 government, to slaughter this people indiscriminately. I 
 can very well understand why these miserable beings in- 
 timidate and kill the men who are the apparent cause of 
 their sufferings. It is wrong, as I have before said, but it 
 is not strange, nor very unnatural, as the world goes. 
 Landlords, and agents, and middle-men, and society, and 
 governments have sins to answer for, as well as starved 
 and exasperated tenants, who scarcely know their right 
 hand from their left. The papers teem with allusions to 
 
 ited by a subterranean population. In one locality there are as many as 
 twenty of these bog-dungeons, with families in them. Your correspondent 
 lately heard one of the highest employees of the poor-law staff give a dread- 
 fully graphic picture of the scene he had witnessed in Kilrush. He had got 
 down into one of these bog- dungeons, in which a family were lying in fever, 
 and he succeeded in moving some of them, but the odor of the place was so 
 overpowering that he was compelled to retreat." 
 
 " In the district of Dunharrow, on nearly all the properties of that barony, 
 there is scarcely a sign of a human habitation, except in the dilapidated ruins 
 of what, at no distant day, were happy homes. The Derry Castle, and the 
 Coumbeg, and several other properties, are almost altogether depopulated. It 
 is melancholy to pass through the country, and see none of those evidences 
 of life which a few years ago cheered the traveler, and made him rejoice at 
 the appearance of the people. Between Nenagh and Clonghjordan — a dis- 
 tance of about six miles — nearly all the houses have been tumbled down, and 
 that line of road presents an equally gloomy and terrible aspect. Between 
 Cloughjordan and Borrisokane, the Rev. Mr. Trench ejected forty families, 
 comprising about two hundred and fifty souls, from the property called Forty 
 Acres. The houses are removed — a fence wall has been built around the 
 property by the stones hat were taken from those houses ! A Mr. Ely has 
 ejected and tumbled do\nrn the houses of a great number of persons, also ia 
 the same district ; but the houses are left standing, and seem as if they were 
 the DEBRIS left after the cannonading of some hostile army. Between Borris- 
 okane and Nenagh, the work of destruction has also been progressing, to 
 some extent. It sickens the heart when one looks upon the country — deso- 
 late as if the scythe of death had mowed down the population. Miles may be 
 traveled, and scarcely a human being can be seen, except some tottering starve- 
 ling endeavoring to make his way to the relieving officer ! In many places 
 the poor are living on nettles, which they endeavor to bite and eat ; and ia 
 other places they drain the streams of water-cresses to appease the ravages 
 of hunger." 
 
296 HOW THE COUNTRY MAY IMPROVE. 
 
 threats and executions, which are too common to need de- 
 scription, and which indicate a horrible state of society, 
 more fearful than on the frontiers of our western territo- 
 ries, along the borders where civilization and barbarism 
 meet. 
 
 Without wishing to excuse, in the least, the wickedness 
 of such conduct, or to exculpate the poor, oppressed, 
 evicted tenants from the responsibility due to such enor- 
 mous guilt, I would give my readers a view of the other 
 side of the picture. This I can do best by quoting from 
 the work before alluded to, though 1 had ocular demonstra- 
 tion of the correctness of the descriptions given ; not only 
 on the estates alluded to, but also on others which I visited. 
 I quote without respect to arrangement, simply to prove 
 the fact I wish to establish ; viz. : that a large share of the 
 responsibility of Ireland's misery or improvement lies at 
 the door of the nobility and gentry — the land-owners ; that 
 when the tenant is well used he improves ; when he is abused 
 and treated as a slave, he is lazy, ignorant, miserable, re- 
 vengeful, outrageous ; and, hence, that the only hope of the 
 redemption of the country from its present degradation, is 
 by attaching the people to the land by some legal enact- 
 ment, which will give them security, and encourage them 
 to make an effort to improve their own condition, perma- 
 nently. 
 
 Mr. Michael Murphy, miller, of Dunimark, says — " I am acquainted with 
 many cases in which the tenantry on the estate of the Earl of Kenmare, have 
 been hardly, indeed very cruelly treated, and subjected to arbitrary exactions, 
 by a person employed as under agent of that nobleman The terms of let- 
 ting is generally from year to year The effect of this mode of tenure is 
 
 to make the tenants completely subservient to their landlords, and to place 
 them in subjection to the persons employed under these landlords, to a degree 
 scarcely credible to those unacquainted with the fact from actual knowledge 
 and experience. It has also the effect of rendering the tenantry utterly careless 
 
 about improving their condition I have not the slightest doubt that, if the 
 
 land v/as properly cultivated, the population would not be too great in the 
 barony, if it was three times its present number." 
 
 *' Wm. Neale, a tenant, swears that his rent under a middle-man was in- 
 creased by Lord Kenmare's agent, from £18, 10s. to £30, on the lease falling 
 
GRIEVANCES. 297 
 
 in ; and that he could not pay the rent, and was turned out without being allowed 
 any thing for the improvements he had made ; moreover, that he was com- 
 pelled to BRIBE the driver, or bailiff, by giving £5, and that the tenantry gene- 
 rally paid him bribes." — p. 403. 
 
 Rev. Thomas Barry, the Roman Catholic priest, is asked — " Have there 
 been any cases of extensive removals of tenantry in the district ? — Yes, the 
 most brutal. Recently ? — Yes, there have been instances within this year. 
 Were those persons tenants who had previously paid their rent regularly? — 
 Yes, and were willing to pay to the last." — Ibid. 
 
 " Mr. W. O'Sullivan complains that he was turned out of the land on which 
 he was born, that a higher rent was put upon it, and the new tenant was broken 
 in two years. That there is a ' regular system of oppression' practiced by the 
 driver under Mr. Galeway, and ' cows, sheep, and money, and every thing is 
 given to him' as bribes." — Ibid. 
 
 " Mr. C. H. Donovan complains that he laid out iJ200 in building a house 
 on some land. He was asked iiJlO more rent, which he was unable to pay, 
 and vv'as turned out without any compensation." — p. 409. 
 
 Mr. John O'Connell, land-owner, says — " I know that all the land in the 
 country is over-let. The land can not bear at present what is put upon it. 
 The people pay too much for their land — that I am ready to admit as a land- 
 lord. I am sorry to say, we expect too much Such is the competition 
 
 for land that ' if ^£40 be asked for land worth only £10, there will be twenty 
 
 applicants for it I have a property that came into my hands about fifteen 
 
 years ago — about seven hundred acres — a fee-simple property. They were 
 the most refractory men in the country, prize-fighters, and the head of a fac- 
 tion ; they paid no rent — they got into arrear. It was the estate of Lord 
 Riversdale. I bought the property and sent for them immediately, and squared 
 accounts ; they owed four years' rent ; I forgave them three and commenced 
 with one year, and they are paying me one-half year's rent m hand. They are 
 paying the original rent still, and there are not now in this country a more com- 
 fortable class of tenantry ; and instead of being in the public-house, and at 
 fairs and markets fighting, they are well clothed, and every man has a slated 
 
 house and barn, where there was nothing but poverty and indigence I 
 
 know that those who hold by lease are becoming industrious, and making 
 money." — p. 411. 
 
 Mr. Richard White, landed proprietor, says — " I came into this country de- 
 termined to pursue a totally different system to any landlord, which was to give 
 
 an ENCOURAGING LEASE for three lives Since I have done so, (assisted his 
 
 tenants personally,) I have not made a distress upon my estate, nor turned out 
 a man ; and I am perfectly convinced that my estate has not only doubled, but 
 trebled itself, in value, in the last eighteen years ! I am satisfied, if the land- 
 lords would give leases to their tenants, and if it was the fashion to do it, there 
 is a great deal of misforture in the country that would not exisit." — p. 413. 
 
 " I have before me the names of ten tenants, all with families, averaging six 
 in a family, six of whom have had actions of ejectment commenced against them 
 within the last three weeks, and the other four received notice to quit last rent 
 
298 EVICTION'S. 
 
 day, not one of wohm owes a fraction of rent. They don't know why 
 they are turned out. This is on Lord Kenmare's property. These men and 
 their families will necessarily resort either to Bantry, or to the corner of a 
 
 bog, and become inhabitants of hovels and beggars Lord Kenmare is 
 
 reputed to be a benevolent man ; and there may be a reason for turning these 
 tenants out ; there is certainly the RIGHT to do it. But this is not the 
 way to make Bantry a city of palaces, nor yet to have a thriving and contented 
 
 people ; for these people must starve or do worse Is it not apparent, 
 
 that neglect and want of encouragement of the people had had much to do 
 in making this country what it is 1" — Ibid. 
 
 Mr. Crosby, landed proprietor, of Ardfert Abby, who expended .£1,500 to 
 improve his land, says — " I had districts of several hundred acres not worth 
 
 Is. an acre, and they are worth 20s. now It is beneficial to myself, and 
 
 immensely so to the peasantry, because it is immediately reproductive. The 
 change from destitution and misery, and giving them good houses, was instan- 
 taneous," — p. 375. 
 
 Mr. Hurley, of Tralee, says — " I have a farm, which, for nine years, never 
 paid me more than £40 or £50 a year, and that was badly paid. I divided it» 
 left it to the tenants, and set it at the full value of it, but gave them leases. . . 
 The farm is now worth £200 a year, and as good cottier tenants as can be 
 found any where ! . . . . There is too little preference shown to the occupying 
 tenants, and that tends to prevent the proper intercourse between the landlord 
 and the tenant in this country. They have not much faith in landlords, in my 
 opinion." [Why should they have 1] — p. 378. 
 
 Mr. J. Conner, farmer, says — " The impression upon my mind is, for I 
 have experienced it, that if we improve, the improvements would go into the 
 hands of competitors." — p. 379. 
 
 Mr. W. Pope, farmer, says — " If an industrious tenant lays out money in 
 improving, he will be charged thirty and forty per cent more rent than his 
 neighbor !" — Ibid. 
 
 " One or other of these two things a tenant has a right to expect, if he im- 
 proves his land — either that his land shall be secured to him for a term of years 
 sufficiently long to repay him for the money and labor he invests in it, or that 
 he shall be paid for the value of the improvements he has effected in the land, 
 if the landlord will not give him a lease, and chooses to terminate his tenancy 
 and increase the rent. This is simply common justice ; for he has there in- 
 vested his labor and money, not on his own land to benefit himself, but on his 
 landlord's land to the benefit of his landlord. If a merchant employs a tailor 
 to manufacture his bale of cloth into coats, the tailor, if the merchant refuse to 
 pay him lor his labor and skill, has his action against the merchant foi the 
 value of liis work and labor. But if a landlord, or a middle-man, apeing 
 landlord, employs a farmer to manufacture his bog into corn fields, or permits 
 him to do it under a false pretence of security, that he shall repay himself for 
 his labor, and then takes from him the corn-fields so manufactured without re- 
 paying him, then has the tenant no action against his landlord for the value 
 of his work and labor so expended. This constitutes the difference between 
 
LOCAL REFORM NEEDED. 299 
 
 the law as regards merchants, and the law as regards landlords. The one 
 must pay for permissive labor employed for his benefit, with cash down, or a 
 check on his banker ; the other need only wipe ofl' such little scores with 
 a notice to quit, or an action of ejectment. The latter course has plainly an 
 advantage over the former — that is, for the landlord. The landlords who 
 HAVE THE (sole) PRIVILEGE OF MAKING THESE LAWS have always had a very 
 clear perception that this was an advantage. But then the farmers are not 
 quite so stupid as not to see that the scale is not quite even — that they peep 
 through the other end of the telescope ; through the end the landlords peep the 
 profits of the system are very considerably magnified to their advantage ; but 
 taking the farmer's peep through the other end, shows the profits to be infini- 
 tismally small, and the vision of probable advantage so minute and indistinct, 
 and uncertain, and distant that the poor farmers, in despair, cease to manufac- 
 ture bogs into corn-fields, and the landlords' bogs remain bogs, and repay both 
 them and their tenants with bog-returns and bog-profits. This is but another 
 elucidation of the adage, that after all, * honesty is the best policy.' The sim- 
 ple truth is, that this principle of landlord and tenant-law is not honest ; and 
 its impolicy is seen in the bogs and wastes of Ireland, as well as in the dimin- 
 ished supply and the want of demand." — pp. 405-7. 
 
 My readers, by this time, must have a tolerable insight 
 into the cause of the misery of the Irish people. They 
 should remember that this is purely an agricultural country, 
 that manufactures and commerce are not carried on to any 
 great extent. The immense water-power, vastly superior 
 to England, is unemployed, and the innumerable and excel- 
 lent harbors are vacant of ships, or visited by those from 
 foreign countries. The fisheries, which are abundant, are 
 wofully neglected, and those carried on subject to the same 
 difficulties as the land. The " hookers" are furnished by a 
 set of jobbers who make all the profits, while the poor 
 fisherman is barely able to get a subsistence of the meanest 
 kind, of which we had a full demonstration on board the 
 hooker which broug;ht us on shore. 
 
 I would recall an idea thrown out some pages back, 
 touching the right to the soil, and the motive to prosperity. 
 The author of the " Times Letters," who says many excel- 
 lent things, and so far as facts are concerned, is, no doubt, 
 generallv reliable, has taken the liberal Endish view of 
 every thing, He, in common with most others who have 
 written on the subject, finds the main cause of Irish penury 
 
300 A FEE 'JJ^ THE LAKD. 
 
 and suffering in the neglect of land-owners, middle-men, and 
 lazy ignorant tenants. These are, no doubt, the apparent, 
 but they are not the real cause of the evil. That is to be 
 found back of all that has been unfolded. It lies in the fact 
 that the people have no acknowledged, actual right to the 
 soil, no fee in the land they cultivate, in the houses they 
 rear, or the permanent improvements they make. 
 
 We have seen that where the landlords are kind, and 
 give long leases, teach the arts of improved agriculture, or 
 pay their workmen well, the people are contented, faithful, 
 and happy. Such landlords are never threatened, after the 
 influence of their goodness is felt. But, as the scale as- 
 cends, ambition may increase, and these tenants may wish 
 to own their lands, to be free and independent — to be men 
 among men. No such event is contemplated by the British 
 laws of entail — of hereditary rights, and hence there is no 
 motive, no feeling, which aspires above dependence and 
 servitude. 
 
 Can an American, familiar with the independence of our 
 farmers, who own their lands, and pay but nominal taxes for 
 the support of the government they make themselves, won- 
 der at the destitution, misery, crime, and intimidation so 
 common here ? He is never disturbed by the haughty 
 agent of an absentee landlord, nor teazed and taunted by a 
 domineering agent, or middle-man. He tills his own land, 
 sleeps in his own cottage, " none to molest or make him 
 afraid." He is a sovereign — a prince in his own palace, 
 and, unless he is cursed with the ownership of more land 
 than he needs, or with slaves, sees none around him but 
 those he has engaged on mutual terms, at fair wages, rates 
 which will enable them, in five years, to become farmers 
 themselves. Blessed is the lot of the American farmer ! 
 He may be, so far as condition is concerned, the best, the 
 happiest and most independent among men ! 
 
 How can all the remedies England's philanthropists and 
 statesmen have proposed, ever effect a radical cure of the 
 enormous evils complained of, so long as the land is kept in 
 
THE RADICAL CURE, 301 
 
 the hands of the few, and the masses are left in a state of 
 dependence and servitude ? Not until human nature is 
 changed can one man, who has a soul to feel, and a will to 
 resolve, be forced by direct action, or incidental circum- 
 stance, into a state of subjection to another like himself, 
 and feel at peace ; and, until a man feels happiness, or sees 
 it before him, he will not be satisfied, — he will not rest. 
 Men, reduced to the rank of cattle, or made machines, with- 
 out will, without ambition, without responsibility, may do 
 any thing — but good. That they can not do ; for they have 
 no power, no means. And it is no cause of wonder, if they 
 occasionally break loose and, with brute force, take ven- 
 geance on the head that oppresses them. The caged lion 
 will growl and snarl, and devour if he can. The more there 
 is of the man, the stronger is the love of liberty and right, 
 the firmer his resolve to resist oppression. 
 
 The turbulence of this population, shows that there is 
 life-blood at the heart, struggling to circulate without im- 
 pediment. The danger is that the circulation has been 
 checked so long, that the fever has affected the brain, and 
 that the English doctors will therefore think further deple- 
 tion necessary. But that will only reduce the system lower, 
 and render recovery less certain, unless followed with great 
 care and suitable nourishment. 
 
 I am glad Ireland is not dead, that the people breathe — 
 some even for freedom, and that all sigh for a better state of 
 things. I believe that day will come, not by rebellion ; for 
 it is a vain method to attempt to overcome one evil by 
 another; but by a course of gradual amelioration, till rotten 
 estates shall go into complete decay, as they are going at a 
 rapid rate, and rotten lords be found a useless burden to the 
 state, the right of primogeniture be abolished, with which 
 the law of entail must fall ; and an open field and fair play 
 be afforded to all. 
 
 Then shall virtue and merit rise to a proper rank, and 
 gilded indolence and vice receive a merited rebuke. In- 
 dustry, honesty, and frugality shall be duly honored and 
 
302 A RADICAL COURSE 
 
 recompensed, and the arrogance of fortuitous birth, and un- 
 deserved distinction be hurled into disgrace. The kingdom 
 of Heaven v^ill then begin, and the church will be untram- 
 meled in its career by needless splendors, and tithes upon 
 poverty. The clergy will cease to be wolves in sheep's 
 clothing, biting and devouring one another, and become 
 what their office indicates, shepherds of the flock, servants 
 of servants, to guide, and help, and bless, and save humanity. 
 Every man will sit down under his own vine and fig-tree, 
 and all will become kings and priests unto God. 
 
 But I see no hope for Ireland without it. The repeal 
 of the union can not effect it, neither can the actual inde- 
 pendence of Ireland from English authority. A moral and 
 social reform is needed. The tenure by which real estates 
 is held must be changed, the curses of rank must be 
 abolished, the last trace of feudalism wiped out, and church 
 and state divorced, before Ireland can become the home of 
 prosperity and peace. Any approximation towards this end 
 is so much gained. But the sore, to be cured permanently, 
 must be healed from the bottom. It is not enough to 
 lay emolients or irritants upon the surface. Probe to the 
 bottom, doctors, and cauterize if need be. Don't under- 
 take to heal it slightly, lest it break out, and slough more 
 odiously and dangerously than before. Astringents may 
 be needful in your opinion ; but apply them cautiously, lest 
 you increase the inflammation. Do not bandage too tightly. 
 As a disciple of Priesnitz and Jefferson, 1 would recom- 
 mend pure, cool, simple remedies, great care in the diet, 
 and a proper regard to free and unrestrained exercise in the 
 open air, as fast as health will permit, always encouraging 
 hope with the strongest assurance of ultimate and com- 
 plete recovery. Under such a course of treatment, your 
 armies and policemen might soon be disbanded, and your 
 barracks, and your jails, and your poor-houses, be turned 
 into homes of industry, plenty, and peace ; and on Ireland 
 might be fulfilled, in a brief half century, the beautiful pro- 
 phecy, " Swords shall be turned into ploughshares, and 
 
• SHOULD BE PURSUED. 303 
 
 spears into pruning-hooks, and the people learn war no 
 more." 
 
 But you say this is very fine in theory, but all imagina- 
 tion ; and you point to past centuries to prove its impossi- 
 bility. But hast thou no faith but in the past? none in 
 God and the future ? Seest thou no cloud in the west, 
 not even as big as a man's hand, portentous of good ? Thy 
 works, O England, would seem to indicate that thou hast 
 had no faith in Ireland, in times gone by, for one of thine 
 own jurists has said, in words too true, that " You may 
 track Ireland through the statute hook, as youd follow a 
 wounded man through a crowd — by blood !" Thou hast 
 not laid the axe at the root of the tree. Thy Williams, 
 thy Henrys, thy James's, thy Elizabeth, thy Cromwell, and 
 thy ministers since, even those of Irish birth — Castlereagh 
 among them — have hated Ireland and abused it ; and thy 
 church has robbed and oppressed it ; and thy whole gov- 
 ernment has not been that of a " nursing father," but of an 
 enemy, a conqueror ! Thou must mend thy ways, or Ire- 
 land will rebel, if able, or emigrate, or else starve and rot. 
 
 Thou hast the power, thou hast the wisdom ; try and get 
 the will. Don't be afraid, I entreat you, of growling land- 
 lords, or whining priests, or brawling politicians. Show 
 thy live courage — not by blood and carnage ; thou shouldst 
 be glutted with that already. Show the nobleness of the 
 animal on the united banner, and let the shamrock blend 
 
 with the rose and thistle upon the escutcheon of thy great- 
 ness! 
 
 Change thy policy towards this noble, beautiful, but un- 
 happy country. Thy philosophers are not afraid of experi- 
 ments ; neither should thy statesmen be. Try one in the 
 crucible of kindness, and see if Irishmen even, have no 
 hearts to melt in tears of gratitude — no pure metal, wTap 
 up in the alloy of a rough exterior. Abused and neglected 
 as they have been, till they have come to hate and devour 
 one an other, for which, in part, thou art responsible ; foi 
 thou hast encouraged Orangemen, and oppressed Catholics, 
 
304 A MUTUAL WORK. • 
 
 and done many naughty things. And yet, bad as thou hast 
 helped to make them, we find little difficulty with them in 
 our country, except where they congregate in masses, and 
 retain their old ideas and feeling's. Thev serve us well in 
 our kitchens, and stables, and fields, and mines, and stores, 
 and ships, and farms. They dig our canals, and grade our 
 railroads, through mountains and over vallies. They sit in 
 our legislatures and courts, and they fill our armies and na- 
 vies, as thou wilt have occasion to know, if any untoward 
 circumstance should ever determine thee to war with us 
 again. A few months' training suffices to make them 
 about equal to Englishmen, in the wants and works of our 
 country ; I mean, if they have had tolerable advantages at 
 home. 
 
 Thy cousins of the Emerald Isle are becoming an im- 
 portant item in the constitution of our community. It 
 would be well, then, if thou would st not send all thy poor- 
 est and most ignorant to us, but be generous, and help in 
 this work of education. We will do what we can, and 
 thou must do what thou canst, what thou so much neglect- 
 est ; for we remember whence we sprang, and it will not 
 be good in us to disown the children whom our " mother" 
 (country) refuses to own and nurse. But, having grown 
 somewhat older since thou didst play the tyrant and disin- 
 herit us — in knowledge, power, and wealth — we will take 
 what thy inability and old age will not allow thee to do, 
 and provide for them. Yea, we will take thy rebels, if 
 thou pleasest — not all thy mean men — thy gamblers and 
 burglars, as we are wont ; we have too many of them 
 already — but thy political agitators, and disturbers of thy 
 political peace — thy O'Briens, and Mitchels, and Meaghers. 
 Thou needst not manacle them, and be at the trouble of 
 sending a ship to carry them to Botany Bay. Just put them 
 on board a transit ship and send them to us. We have 
 use for them, and do not fear, so be they keep out of one 
 State, which had thy charter for a guide till a few years ago. 
 Every where else they may go in peace. I do entreat 
 
CHARITY HEGINS AT HOME. 305 
 
 thee, be kind and Christian to thy children once, on this 
 side the channel, and see if they will not be good. Don't 
 set the elder against the younger, by primogeniture rights, 
 for God, even under the old law, some times reversed it. 
 Jacob, and Joseph, and David were not the eldest of their 
 fathers' children. In the new, " we are all one" — alike in 
 Christ. 
 
 Thou wilt find no lack for thy humane efforts, if thou 
 wilt lay off the goggles of thy nobihty, and look at things 
 as they are. Both priest and statesman, school-master and 
 manufacturer, farmer and mechanic, may be busy in better 
 work than grinding swords, building prisons, forging chains, 
 and writing homilies. These laws may be made just and 
 equal, these souls may be saved, these minds may be edu- 
 cated, these rivers turned upon the wheels, and spindles 
 set a-going, these bogs drained, mountain lands tilled, and 
 worn lands improved. Here is a broad field for thy phi- 
 lanthropy, without troubling thyself about South Carolina 
 and Georgia. The free States will take care of American 
 slavery, and it is better for thee to work humanely nearer 
 at home. We have heard thy advice, and like it, and give 
 thee this in return, with the hope it may do thee some good, 
 and make thee love thy Irish children better, and do them 
 less harm, and more good ! 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE UPPER SHANNON. 
 
 Killaloe. — Lough Derg. — Landing Passengers. — Monopolies. — Holy Islands. 
 — Personal and Moral Beauty. — English Ability to Help Ireland. — Por- 
 tumna. — Ancient and Modern Works. — Redwood Castle. — Victoria 
 Locke. — A Beautiful Spot. — Bennagher. — War Establishment.— English 
 Policy. — The Question of Natural Rights. — Paying Priests. — Monaste- 
 ries. — Something Better. — Shannon Harbor. 
 
 Killaloe has a poetic name, a romantic and beautiful lo- 
 cation, and many legendary reminiscences of Irish valor 
 
 26* 
 
306 KILLALOE. 
 
 and magnificence. It was the central residence of Brian 
 Boroimhe, the great hero and monarch of Irish patriotism. 
 It has little else to boast of The quays along the river, 
 and the new pier at which the steamboats land, show some 
 signs of life and business ; but every thing else bears the 
 stamp of time, neglect, and poverty. The buildings, gen- 
 erally, are old and dilapidated. Rows of small, low cabins 
 are strung along the elevated ground, without much respect 
 to order — in true Irish style. A few decent buildings are 
 seen near the business part, and several really elegant man- 
 sions in the neighborhood. Among the latter, I noticed 
 particularly the diocesan seat, or " palace of the Bishop," 
 called Clarisford House. It is a good mansion, surrounded 
 with elegant and shady grounds, which reach to the bank 
 of the river and line of the canal, for some distance. The 
 Bishop of Kill aloe lives here in great splendor, with a large 
 income, and little to do.* 
 
 On the opposite or Tipperary side, is Brian's fort, once a 
 strong fortification, commanding this important pass be- 
 tween the north and south. It is no longer of any con- 
 cern, for Connaught, and Leinster, and Munster, are no 
 longer separate kingdoms, with opposing interests, but are 
 alike crushed and suffering beneath the oppressor's power. 
 Neither can the heroes of Munster meet here, to oppose the 
 intrusion of English invaders, as in the days of King Wil- 
 liam, when Sarsfield intercepted the reinforcement coming 
 to the siege of Limerick. 
 
 The long bridge which crosses the Shannon, to the vil- 
 lage of Ballina, is an object of some curiosity, on account 
 
 * " An extract from the return of probate-wills, made to the British 
 House of Commons in 1832, shows that Beresford, Abp. of Tuam, left 
 je250,000 ; Fowler, Abp. of Dublin, £400,000 ; Cleaver, Bp. of Ferns, 
 ;e50,000 ; Porter, Bp. of Clogher, £250,000 ; Knox, Bp. of Killaloe, 
 £100,000 ; Bernard, Bp. of Limerick, £60,000 ; Hawkins, Bp. of Raphoe, 
 £200,000 ; that is an average of £188,750 for each of these Protestant 
 priests, after supporting their families in splendor during their lives, and 
 this from the poorest people in Christendom ; and that, too, the great 
 mass being not of their own communion." 
 
ITS ROMANTIC SITUATION. 307 
 
 of its numerous arches. But the cathedral most attracted 
 our attention. It is an ancient building, of massive pro- 
 portions, and, from its commanding position, becomes a 
 more prominent object than any other, except the mauso- 
 leum of the famous Brian Boroimhe, which is a pile with- 
 out symmetry or beauty, designed to mark the last resting- 
 place of Ireland's most honored chieftain. Above the vil- 
 lages, on the west side, is an elegant villa, occupying an 
 elevated and romantic site, on the shores of the lake, back 
 of which rises Slievebernagh, a lofty hill, which looks down 
 upon this charming lake, and commands an extensive view 
 of the counties of Limerick, Clare, Gal way, Tipperary, and 
 far up and down the valley of the Shannon. On the op- 
 posite side is Derry castle, on a bold projection of the Arra 
 mountains, which border this part of the lake, the elegant 
 mansion of some grandee. Back of this, to the north, the 
 mountains rise precipitously nearly two thousand feet, and 
 are said to contain valuable quarries of slate, which are 
 extensively and profitably worked. I saw large quantities 
 piled about the quays, indicative of considerable business 
 in that line. 
 
 The scenery in this region is very fine. The beautiful 
 valley through which the Shannon hurries its winding way, 
 with broad plains on either side, with here and there a wooded 
 hill, and the far off ranges in the distance, bounded by Slieve 
 Pheling, Devil's Bit, Gottymore, and others of equal grandeur 
 on the north, by the lofty mountains which approach to the 
 very shores of the lake, just at its outlet ; then the calm, clear 
 waters spreading off to the north, with sinuosities pene- 
 trating far into the sides of the rugged mountains which 
 border its shores — every thing is pleasing, varied, and ro- 
 mantic. I remarked to my friends that the old Irish must 
 have been a poetic race, for they always chose the most 
 beautiful and romantic spots for their castles and towns. 
 This might have been caused by another motive — the 
 strength of the positions, and the ease with which a castle 
 could be built sufficiently strong to resist opposing clans. 
 
308 A BEAUTIFUL DEMESNE. 
 
 These strong holds are in narrow passes, on projecting 
 cliffs, isolated rocks, or narrow necks or points of land, 
 where the feudal lord could congregate his vassals, and 
 defend himself from the missiles of assailing enemies. 
 The introduction of gunpowder rendered these castles use- 
 less defences, and they have gone into ruin. But the vil- 
 lages about them remain, and indicate more, perhaps, the 
 love of life, clannish arrogance, and good engineering, than 
 an innate, poetic admiration of natural beauty. 
 
 Two or three steamers were lying at the pier, not far 
 from the landing of the canal boat. A crowd of ragged 
 men and boys were huddled about, in waiting to beg, or 
 get a job, the former being far the most energetic in the 
 prosecution of their business. We conveyed our own 
 baggage to the steamer, in republican style, somewhat to 
 the dissatisfaction of the scores who strove to take it from 
 us. We had here a sample of urgent haste, such as some 
 times characterizes our own countrymen, when about to 
 leave a boat. A woman was anxious to get on shore be- 
 fore the narrow plank was laid on the bows of the boat, 
 by which, with great care, we were barely able to get to 
 the land with dry feet. Either misjudging her strength or 
 the distance, she leaped into the shoal water, and splashed 
 about like a sturgeon just caught, much to the amusement 
 of the company on shore, who laughed heartily at her mis- 
 fortune. 
 
 Some distance up the lake, we passed an elegant de- 
 mesne, on a beautiful and extensive point of land, which 
 penetrates some distance into the water, and sweeps back, 
 in rich undulations, towards the dark summits of the Arra 
 mountains. It is a lovely spot, and, in appearance, the 
 abode of rural prosperity and comfort. But all the beau- 
 ties of nature are sadly marred in this unhappy land. 
 There are few spots in this world, I have ever seen, more 
 highly blessed by nature, and none made so miserable by 
 the wrongs and imprudence of man, for whose happiness 
 it was so elegantly fitted up. This lake is a beautiful sheet 
 
LOUGH DERG. 309 
 
 oi water, and this estate a most charming location ; but its 
 very beauty is made odious by the surrounding misery. 
 The extensive park, lined with a variety of elegant trees, 
 with herds of deer grazing on the lawn, the long, shady 
 avenues leading to the mansion, and the rich fields beyond, 
 are all attractive, grand, and tasteful ; but how can a heart, 
 capable of appreciating the loveliness of such a spot, enjoy 
 it, while starvation is staring, with envious eyes, and po- 
 verty and hatred lie groaning and grumbling under the 
 walls ? 
 
 Mere wealth, and power, and splendor can avail nothing 
 towards genuine happiness, while the very position occupied 
 is the source of misery to others. Pride can not fully blind 
 the heart ; neither can success in the prosecution of selfish 
 ends, silence the claims of our better nature which solicit 
 another's good. Haman was not happy while Mordecai sat 
 at the king's gate Irish nobles and gentry, whether of 
 Celtic or Gothic extraction, are ill at ease amid the scenes 
 of wretchedness they have themselves helped to produce 
 or perpetuate. I do not wonder that they live abroad, and 
 rarely come here to look upon their estates, if for nothing 
 but to forget, if possible, the wickedness of their own ne- 
 glect, and the sight of misery their own luxuries have caused. 
 
 1 feel sad as I pass over this beautiful lake, and look upon 
 the varied and fertile shores, and think of the vast resources 
 of this poverty stricken nation. Every thing wears a som- 
 bre appearance, and I can not be cheerful. There is a chord 
 which links humanity together, which, like the telegraphic 
 wire, once touched, communicates its message to the heart. 
 It would not be well to resist this influence if we could. 
 By shutting out the rays of light, we may not see the dust 
 in the room ; but it is there, nevertheless, and, added to its 
 own evil, we deny ourselves the counteracting influences, 
 we might otherwise obtain. I am glad that I am here ; that 
 1 have seen what I have ; that I know what I do of the 
 dark phases of human nature, which can never be learned 
 at home. 
 
810 IIANDSOx"^IE SHORES. 
 
 Lough Derg is some twenty miles long. It is twenty-five 
 miles from Killaloe to Portumna, but these towns are a mile 
 or two from the lake. Its breadth is various, from three or 
 four, to eight or ten miles. A wide bay puts off to the 
 west, at the head of which is ScarifF in Clare ; another 
 nearly opposite, towards Nenagh, the chief town in the 
 north riding of Tipperary. These form the widest part of 
 the lake. The shores are deeply indented, and at the south 
 end, abrupt and broken. Farther up the lake the shores are 
 more level, and said to be capable of the highest cultivation. 
 The hills rise more gradually and their summits are less ele- 
 vated and more distant. Deep and beautiful valleys approach 
 to the lake from the back country, and add greatly to the. 
 picturesqueness of the scenery. There are no villages of 
 much consequence immediately on the borders of the lake ; 
 but old dilapidated castles are seen in abundance, in all 
 directions on every jutting headland, and in almost every 
 secure and beautiful spot. The names of several of these, 
 and the legends connected with them, are given me as we 
 pass along, but few of them I care to remember. I have no 
 reverence for feudalism in any shape, but it is well to know 
 something of what has been, that we may learn to appreciate 
 what is. 
 
 We have just landed some passengers at Dromineer, the 
 port of Nenagh, the boats coming off a long distance to 
 effect the exchange. This must be dangerous business in 
 rough weather, and to us appears very unaccommodating, 
 I remember when little boats used to be sent out by a line 
 to land passengers at the villages along the Hudson. We 
 should now call that an awkward and dangerous operation. 
 But here there is little enterprise, and no opposition. Pub- 
 lic carriers consult their own interest, and the people must 
 submit to any inconvenience. A stage never takes up nor | 
 leaves passengers, except at their own offices — often in a 
 stable-yard, and steamboats land their passengers into | 
 small boats, and an extra price is charged for taking them 
 
THE BLESSING OF FREEDOM. 311 
 
 on shore. A company which should practice thus in our 
 country, need never make a second trip. 
 
 Such is the working of freedom and monarchy. With 
 us the people rule, and companies and statesmen must serve 
 the public. Here monopolies rule, and the people must sub- 
 mit. With one all is animation, cheerfulness, readiness to 
 serve, freedom to enjoy, and equality of feeling ; with the 
 other, dullness, sycophancy, haughtiness, moroseness — a sort 
 of " Do this, or go to the devil," as one man expressed it. 
 The evils of an aristocratic government may be seen and 
 felt in all ranks of society, but in nothing more than in the 
 social condition of the people. I thank my God that I was 
 born in a free country, and bred up under democratic insti- 
 tutions ; where every man is a unit, and self-dependent for 
 success; and where the natural, equal and indefeasible 
 rights of all men are tolerably well understood and regarded, 
 and where each man is held responsible for the defence of 
 his own, and the invasion of another's. Corporations with 
 us can not rise above individual privileges; and, though 
 soulless, are alike responsible to the popular will, for their 
 conduct and their existence. They may, for a time, play 
 a blind game, and deceive the community, and bias the go- 
 vernment, but a day of retribution always overtakes them. 
 In freedom, the right and good, alone can stand in perma- 
 nence, as, in the light, truth only can appear with safety. 
 
 At some distance on our left, we passed the Holy Islands 
 situated in ScaritF bay, not far from the north shore. On 
 one of them is an ancient round tower, and near it a pile 
 of ruins are to be seen. The island appears to be low and 
 level, and of small dimensions. It is called Irish coltra, the 
 Holy Island, or Seven Churches, and was formerly one of 
 the "stations" to which pilgrimages were made by the 
 Catholics to do penance and obtain the forgiveness of their 
 sins. There were seven churches built upon it, besides th6 
 round tower. Connected with this was St. Patrick's Pur- 
 gatory, where the more wicked and obstinate were put 
 through a severe course of training till submission was pro- 
 
312 HOLY ISLAND. 
 
 duced and absolution merited. This " station" was once 
 as much celebrated as that on Lough Derg, in DonnegaL* 
 Several passengers assured me that it is still visited by 
 many pilgrims who come here to do penance for their sins. 
 One of them is a gentleman of great respectability, who is 
 familiar with this region, having been often to the island 
 and distributed many comforts among the people. I pity 
 the poor creatures who are so blinded by ignorance, but I 
 do not marvel at their folly. I have seen enough, in the do- 
 
 * " The lake covers two thousand one hundred and forty acres ; its shores 
 are wild and dreary ; and its principal islets are Inish-goosh — Saint's Island, 
 and Station Island, or St. Patrick's Purgatory ; even these are very small ; and 
 the remainder, which seem to break and vary the surface of its dark waters, are, 
 with few exceptions, mere groups of rock. On Saint's island are the remnants 
 of a priory. This island, in remote ages, was the resoil of pilgrims, and con- 
 tained the original Patrick's Purgatory. The place of the penance is now, and 
 has been for several centuries, on Station Island, which is half a mile from the 
 shore of the lake. It is less than an acre in extent, and contains, in addition 
 to two small chapels, one of which is appropriated to penitents, a house for the 
 officiating priests, and a few cabins. In spite of the prohibitory edicts of 
 several of the popes and orders of the Irish privy council in former days for 
 its suppression, it has maintained its celebrity ; and the numbers who still an- 
 nually flock hither to expiate their offences, from the 1st of June to the 15th 
 of August, are variously stated at from ten to fifteen thousand. One thing is 
 certain that the ferry which was long rented at ^300 per annum, now pays 
 ;ei60." — Fraser's Hand Book, p. 532. 
 
 " On the pilgrims first landing in the island, they pay a toll of sixpence half- 
 penny each to the prior for the right to land. They are then taken to a corner 
 of the island, where a roughly made stone cross, with some almost obliterated 
 figures carved upon it is elevated. Round this is a pathway of small sharp stones, 
 which seemed tracked by being walked over. Round this cross, the pilgrims are 
 made to walk barefoot nine times, repeating a number of prayers. They are then 
 ushered into the largest chapel, which is called the * prison,' where they must 
 fast and pray through the whole of the first night of their landing. They are 
 warned against falling asleep, as they are taught that to do so will bring on them 
 the displeasure of God, and will be punished with purgatory The morn- 
 ing after the pilgrim's arrival, he or she has to confess to one of the priests — a 
 shilling fee is charged for the confession, though often more is given. Then 
 
 comes the performance of penances The pilgrims, for one penance, are 
 
 made to walk nine times round the pathway round the cross, barefooted, over 
 sharp stones ; and, according o their penance, they are made to walk or 
 crawl a certain number of times on their bake knees, men and women — round 
 the outside of the circular erection of stones." — Condition of the people of 
 Ireland, p. 82. 
 
 .3 1 
 
PALTEKISM OF xMUUNT SHANNON. 313 
 
 ings even of Protestants, in our own country, to admonish 
 me to deal charitably with a weak brother, on whose soul 
 still sits the incubus of misbelief and superstition. " Lord, 
 help thou our unbelief." 
 
 This border of the lake is exceedingly beautiful. The 
 ground ascends gradually from the water's edge, up Slieve 
 Aughta, till it attains the height of more than one thousand 
 feet, at the distance of three or four miles. The hills trend 
 off westw^ard, in rich, swelling slopes, and are covered with 
 pasture-fields, and their bases dotted over with cottages, the 
 size and character of which, from this distance, are not 
 discernible, but appear remarkably pleasant, as if the 
 abodes of plenty and contentment. I was just now giving 
 vent to my admiration of this grand landscape, when the 
 gentleman before alluded to cooled my enthusiasm, by in- 
 forming me that there is scarcely a place in all Ireland 
 where the people are so completely destitute and wretched. 
 
 Soon after, an other gentleman was introduced to me, 
 who is coming from Limerick, to distribute a quantity of 
 Indian meal, and other provisions, among the inhabitants 
 of Mount Shannon who are in a state of penury and star- 
 vation. He assures me he has been there frequently, on the 
 same errand of mercy, in behalf of a society of Friends, 
 and that, although a county richer in the sources of plenty 
 and comfort can scarcely be found, the welfare of the peo- 
 ple has been so grossly neglected, that no scenes of desti- 
 tution more complete can be seen in any part of the 
 kingdom. The people are ignorant, the lands neglected, 
 on account of exorbitant rents, and the cruelty of the land- 
 lord's agent, so that there is neither motive nor means for 
 improvement. 
 
 Before landing, he invited us to accompany him to 
 Mount Shannon, and one of our party accepted the invita- 
 tion, with whom we have just parted. For myself, I have 
 no longer a heart to look upon the squalor of this wretched 
 population, while 1 lack the means to afford them relief I 
 have seen enough of their misery, heard enough of their 
 
 27 
 
314 A NOUm FAMILY. 
 
 wrongs, felt enough of suppressed anger towards the aris- 
 tocrats, who live in great pomp on the blood and sweat of 
 this wretched people, by royal right, as if God had made 
 them better than others. Right here, we are passing a 
 splendid mansion, surrounded by all the tokens of wealth 
 and pride ; and gayly dressed ladies are standing upon the 
 shore, under wide-spreading shade trees, waving their ker- 
 chiefs to us as we pass. This is an Irish family, I am told, 
 but one of those formerly bought into the English interest 
 by the gift of a large tract of land and several thousand 
 pounds in ready money, which has kept the descendants 
 loyal ever since, and ready to carry forward the war of exter- 
 mination against the wretched peasantry of this part of 
 Galway county. But how a family, of cultivated minds 
 and christian hearts, can be satisfied to live as they do, in 
 the midst of beggary and ignorance, made so and kept so 
 by their own will and neglect, it is easy to inquire. I am 
 told, this is a Christian family, well educated in all the 
 blandishments of fashionable life, and greatly respected in 
 a wide circle of notable families of the nobility and gentry, 
 both here and in England ; but how they can be happy, or 
 endure to live with the wrongs and evils of their position 
 and neglect so obvious all about them, is more than I can 
 comprehend. It would seem that the first breathing of a 
 Christian heart would be to seek out a remedy for the mise- 
 ry about them, to clothe, and feed, and educate these ne- 
 glected children, to teach the parents how to manage their 
 patches of ground to the best advantage, to slacken the 
 stringency of the rents, tithes, and taxes, to give them ex- 
 amples of justice, industry, and benevolence, and so begin a 
 work of mercy and reform, which would secure for them the 
 poor man's blessing and the orphan's prayer. They surely 
 can not be wanting in the adequate knowledge to begin 
 such a scheme of improvement, for they have Bibles, and 
 can read them ; they have eyes, and must see ; hearts, and 
 ought to feel ; or else they ought to renounce the name of 
 
CHRISTIAN REaUIREMENTS. 315 
 
 Christian, and turn infidel to all the claims of a common 
 humanity. 
 
 I am told the family living here are, personally, remarka- 
 bly handsome ; that the young ladies, especially, are re- 
 nowned for their fine forms and beautiful faces. Be it so, 
 what does it all avail if there are wanting the mind and 
 heart — the moral beauty, to correspond ? The gay, and 
 thoughtless, and unprincipled may admire, and applaud, and 
 flatter, and betray. But true beauty, like true greatness, 
 comes from a pure heart, and shows itself by acts of good- 
 ness, and words of wisdom. God looks upon the heart, 
 judges motives, and bestows happiness — the reward of 
 merit — only where it is deserved. Personal beauty is 
 always to be admired, but never praised, except as God's 
 gift. To appear well, the possessor should always be un- 
 conscious of the possession. 
 
 A fearful responsibility rests upon those whose social po- 
 sition and ability afford such a favorable opportunity to 
 labor for the temporal and spiritual good of others. And, 
 as God reigns, a day of reckoning will come, when the 
 rich, and wise, and powerful, shall be held to account for 
 their treatment of the poor, and weak, and ignorant, who 
 have suffered at their hands. God's word is full of instruc- 
 tion upon these points, both in the Old and in the New Testa- 
 ments ; and I marvel that a strong nation, whose Queen is 
 the head of the Church, does no more to relieve the op- 
 pressed and guide the ignorant ; that a church, whose Pon- 
 tiff* is God's vicegerent on earth, has no more affection for 
 its children than to let them starve, while its dignitaries 
 live in splendor, and devote their principal attention to 
 forms of faith and gorgeous processions ; and that a gen- 
 try which boasts of its gallantry, and intelligence, and reli- 
 gion, are perfectly case-hardened, that the wail of their 
 starving tenantry awakens no feeling of humanity in their 
 breasts. In this age of reform, and progress, and exten- 
 sive benevolent operations, while sea and land are tra- 
 versed to convert the heathen and proselyte schismatics, 
 
316 MISAPPLIED PllILANTURiJPY. 
 
 and thousands and millions poured out annually, to carry 
 forward the works of benevolence, that Ireland is so sadly 
 neglected, and thousands of her children dying of starva- 
 tion every year, while the land is less than half cultivated. 
 We live in an anomalous age. Great Britain gives, annually, 
 nearly fifty million of dollars for the support of its established 
 clergy, and more than all other Christian nations put to- 
 gether, while the ratio of hearers attending its ministry, as 
 compared with others, is as one to thirty-two ! Much of 
 this immense revenue is derived by tithes obtained from 
 those who, from conscience, refuse to hear its preaching ; 
 and not an inconsiderable portion is wrenched from the 
 poor starved tenants, by the distraining process, after pay- 
 ing their own clergy. Besides this, thousands are spent 
 annually for missionary, and other benevolent operations, in 
 foreign lands, v/hile a million of their own people, whom 
 they are bound, by every legal and moral obligation, to 
 protect, are dying for want of the commonest necessaries 
 of life at home, and often unprovided with a decent burial. 
 England is conquering the Sikhs, humbling the Chinese, 
 contending about barren mountains on the borders of the 
 Pacific, sending expeditions to explore the North-west 
 Passage, and buying up West Indian negroes, for liberty, 
 but the starving poor of Galway are left to the tender mer- 
 cies of the agents of bankrupt landlords ! England boasts 
 of her power, and wealth, and honor, and nobleness, and 
 Christianity, and benevolence, and wisdom, and yet can not 
 find out how to remedy the evils of Ireland ! Marvellous ! 
 We have just passed the island of lUuanmore, in the 
 center of this lake, near enough to see some old ruins, 
 which we are told are the remains of a church abbey, 
 built in the 7th century, by Saint Comir, and that several 
 ecclesiastics, celebrated for their zeal and learning, for- 
 merly resided here. The island is as beautifully situated 
 as ever, but it no longer bears the marks of industry and 
 thrift, if ever it did. I do not wonder that these ignorant 
 people look with despondency upon the beautiful spots in 
 
INEFFICIENT MEANS. 317 
 
 their country, rendered sacred by the superstitions of their 
 religion, and curse the foreign invaders who laid them 
 waste. It is one of the most natural things in the world, 
 that they should revert to the past, and garnish, by the help 
 of imagination, the freedom and glory of the blissful age of 
 their ancestors, in the gaudiest colors ; and, by contrast 
 with the present miserable reality, become enraged against 
 those who oppress them. The acts of the British govern- 
 ment have not been such as to heal the wound, by enlight- 
 ening their understandings, and winning their hearts to ap- 
 prove and love a better order of things. We have had the 
 experiment of extermination in our own country, pursuing 
 the English plan. The natives of America loved their 
 homes, the graves of their fathers, and their hunting 
 grounds, and wreaked their vengeance, to the extent of 
 their power, in cruel murders. The native Irish are above 
 them, in many respects, and more capable of reform and 
 progress. By intercourse, intermarriages, religious influ- 
 ence, and proper treatment, many have become distin- 
 guished, and all might be made industrious, moral, and 
 happy. Nothing has been done to beget love or respect, 
 but every thing to irritate, produce jealousy, and excite 
 revenge. Their liberties have been assailed, their religion 
 repudiated, and their homes invaded, and they compelled, 
 by taxes, to support the government that oppresses, and 
 by rents, the lords who impoverish them. They look 
 upon this beautiful island, and see its abbeys in ruins, its 
 cloisters forsaken of the reverend men of God who dwelt 
 in them, while the graves of their ancestors, who sleep in 
 its extensive burying grounds, call to them for redress. 
 They see no common schools, no free churches, nor en- 
 lightened and happy population, coming up in their places; 
 and they are sad, and unreconciled, and restless ; and who 
 can wonder ? They see as much pride and splendor as in 
 feudal times, while there is no chieftain to arm and protect 
 them as his vassals, but landlords to treat them as serfs. 
 Alas, for poor Ireland ; thy social wrongs are many and 
 
 27* 
 
318 PORTUMNA. 
 
 great, and far off is the day when thou shalt be able to re- 
 move them ! 
 
 As we proceed towards the head of the lake, the shores 
 are curved, and varied, and beautiful ; adorned (?) with 
 some handsome seats ; presenting many beautiful land- 
 scapes, of hills, vales, bays, creeks, and headlands, but every 
 where tarnished with pictures of human misery. Wide 
 plains sweep off towards the north and east, from which 
 arise, here and there, rounded pastoral hills, which add 
 greatly to the beauty of the scenery. A narrow bay 
 sweeps off to the north-east, towards Parsonstown, the re- 
 sidence of Lord Ross, of telescopic notoriety. Before 
 reaching Portumna, the principal port at this end of the 
 lake, the shores become flat and uninteresting, but hills in 
 the distance, and ruined castles, are still to be seen. On 
 our left, we passed the charming grounds of the Marquis 
 Clancaricade, whose elegant castle was burned some 
 years ago, the naked walls of which still stand, a massive 
 modern ruin. The house still occupied by the family is 
 grand enough for any gentleman of moderate pretensions. 
 The castle itself, I am told, was formerly one of the grand- 
 est in this part of the kingdom. I have no reason to doubi 
 it, for the long line of little, low mud cabins, such as some- 
 times ornament our railways where deep excavations are 
 to be made, and the squalor of the poor creatures we saw 
 about them, are a sufficient proof, in addition to the exten- 
 sive ruins and splendid grounds. The glory of a military 
 chieftain is in the number of his fellow-beings he has slain 
 in battle, like the notches in the Indian's war-club ; the 
 measure of riches is the comparison with surrounding po- 
 verty ; and the pride of a landlord is the amount he can 
 extort from the squalid dependents about him — but the re- 
 ward of the good man is the relief he affords to suffering 
 humanity. 
 
 Portumna, itself, lies a mile or so from the river. It 
 was once a place of some business. It has a church. Ca- 
 tholic chapel, the ruins of a priory, and a mass of miserable 
 
CROMVv''ELL S CASTLE. 319 
 
 huts, wiih scarcely a decent building among them, all be^ 
 longing to the barony of Clancaricade, together with an 
 extensive tract of country, the gift of one of the Henrys 
 to a French family of De Bergs, who still inherit it ; so 
 that even Frenchmen are involved in the disgrace of Ire- 
 land. French families are scattered all about the island, 
 who were nitroduced into handsome estates by the English 
 crown, in payment for their adhesion to the particular in- 
 terests of different sovereiorns, who found their services of 
 great value in aiding them in the maintenance of their claims 
 to the British throne. Ireland has been the pay ground of 
 English, Scotch, and French sycophants, for several centu- 
 ries, and their patents remain to the present day. Among all 
 the titles, Cromwell's are the best. He made most tho- 
 rough work, and his name is a by- word still, suggesting the 
 greatest terror to tenants and to children. It takes the 
 form of an oath, and I often hear the people use the " curse 
 of Crumwill" as the strongest and most violent expression 
 of disapprobation they can utter. 
 
 On a point of land formed by the river and an arm of 
 the lake, extending off to the east, is Bellisle, the residence 
 of Lord Avon more, and immediately upon the water's edge 
 the ruins of Cromwell's Castle. This was one of the out- 
 posts of Protestantism, where the minions of the Protector 
 were set to keep watch over the Catholics whom he had 
 driven into Connaught, from whence they could not escape 
 but at the peril of their lives. The rest he had driven to 
 the Continent, shipped to the West Indies, or compelled to 
 keep secreted in the mountain glens of Munster. The 
 nnore rapacious crew which accompanied the restoration 
 and ministered to the corrupt and profligate habits of the 
 second Charles, did not rest here. The confiscation of the 
 estates Cromwell had bestowed upon his favorites were in- 
 sufficient to satisfy the more hungry herd, and the fair fields 
 of Connaught were seized and divided among the mean set 
 who were manufactured into lords and noblemen by these 
 robberies, which were entailed in perpetuity. Thus har- 
 
320 SHANNON BRIDGE, 
 
 rassed in the narrow fold into which they had been driven, 
 they broke out and spread over the depopulated parts of the 
 island, but in the character of subordinates, tenants upon 
 the lands once theirs, which they hired, by leases when they 
 could, promisino; fealty to the intruders. Where leases 
 could not be obtained, they were compelled to serve in any 
 capacity, according to the dictates of their new oppressors. 
 The plan of Cromwell was to regenerate the whole island, 
 and make it, at once, an integral part of the empire, purely 
 English in religion, politics, and people. The subsequent 
 governments treated it as a conquered country, permitting 
 a show of nationality, to humor the pride of its nobles, and 
 hoping to derive more benefit from it in that way. This 
 new arrangement rendered these border castles useless, and 
 they soon fell into neglect and ruin. 
 
 Just above Bellisle and Portumna we came to a splendid 
 stone bridge over the Shannon. It is a superb work, built 
 in the most thorough manner. The stone, of which it is 
 constructed, were quarried from a bluff on the shore near 
 by. The piers are firm and massive, the road-way level 
 and broad, and the "balustrades finished in a tasteful man- 
 ner. A wide draw, of the most approved plan, opens a 
 passway for boats, without lowering their masts. We have 
 few such substantial works in our country. Some of the 
 bridges on the Erie canal, especially that at Rochester, will 
 compare with it respectably. We are a new country, and 
 with us every thing was formerly done with respect to pre- 
 sent need irrespective of the future. As we have grown 
 older, more able and wise, we are giving more attention 
 to permanence and beauty ; so that when we arrive at the 
 age of our father-land we may hope to show works of fequal 
 grandeur: — Ay, too, and before. We may never build 
 feudal castles, massive abbeys, extravagant cathedrals and 
 convents, but, inspired by the motives of true utility we 
 have already undertaken and accomplished, some works 
 which would do honor to any age or nation. They are 
 monuments of good judgment and of republican equality. 
 
REDWOOD CASTLE. 321 
 
 They speak for the whole. If they do not awaken the feel- 
 ing of superstition and reverence, they do not offend the 
 sentiments of philanthropy, as the ancient monuments of 
 exclusiveness we meet with here. But great changes we 
 are happy to see in the movements of the Old World, which 
 strike us more forcibly from the deep contrast in which 
 they appear. Bridges and roads, which, for completeness, 
 surpass any thing we can boast, are for the general good, 
 and even the barracks, and jails, and work-houses, the re- 
 maining signs of improvement, are not emblems of feudal- 
 ism, but of ideas more gregarious and universal than those 
 which marked the centuries past. There is hope yet, that 
 a broader spirit of humanity will, step by step, take off 
 the burdens of oppression, and elevate the down-trodden 
 to a higher rank in the scale and opportunities of social life. 
 This is the station of the company having the exclusive 
 navigation of the Shannon, where they exchange boats, 
 and tranship passengers and freight, from those of larger 
 size plying on the lake, to those fitted to run upon the shoal 
 v^^ater of the upper river. Quays and harbors have been 
 built for the accommodation of these boats, and several 
 store-houses and coal-yards for the use of the company. 
 Several hands are employed here, who live in a small vil- 
 lage on the east bank of the river. The lofty ruins of 
 Redwood castle still support their crumbling turrets, and 
 look, with a sullen frown, upon these changes and encroach- 
 ments of modern times. Never mind, old tower of feudal- 
 ism, and Puritan fury ; thou hast had thy day of glory, 
 and 'tis passed. Another generation has come to toil, and 
 suffer, and weep, drinking the dregs of the cup thou didst 
 mingle for them. The noise of mirth and revelry, while 
 thou standest, would be like a merry song in a charnel 
 house. The wrongs which reared thee, this century can 
 not forget. But thou, and the memory of thee, shall pass 
 away, and a better day will come. Ah ! shake thy grim 
 locks, and thou wilt, at the clang and jostling of these new 
 inventions, as the rushing steam goes whizzing and whirring 
 
322 THE INFLUENCE OF TIME. 
 
 from its pent-up prison, where it has been doing good ser- 
 vice ; and these passengers and goods are hurried at un- 
 wonted speed, over this handsome bridge, which claims Ut- 
 tle affinity to thee or thine ! Ay, fret, and eke out a croco- 
 dile tear, if thou canst, to wet thy withered, blackened face, 
 and show pity for thy rebellious children ! These arts and 
 improvements for social intercourse assail thy destiny, 
 with surer success, and will sooner topple thy turrets down, 
 than Ludlow's cannon, or O'Connel's Repeal. Stand there, 
 ignoble monument of a tyrannical, selfish, and inglorious age ! 
 Thou art no more than the mausoleum of the chieftains 
 and the chivalry which reared thee. Thy serfs are waiting 
 for freedom. Many have gone to the home of liberty al- 
 ready, though many still remain to delve yet longer amid 
 the ruin thou hast seen wrought. Ah, turn not thy sunken 
 eye in deathly stare upon me. Thou canst not frighten a 
 child of freedom ! Cease thy mutterings, old toothless tower, 
 for they but increase my abhorence, and I laugh at the fool- 
 ish frolics of thy dotage. Better give all thy attention 
 to the nursing of thy sickly sons, who, like the last — the 
 teatman of a puny race, half scorned of himself for his 
 imbecility, still clings to the shadow of feudal chivalry, and 
 plays the lord under thy crumbling walls ! He needs all 
 thy concern, lest the spreading spirit of justice and philan- 
 thropy sweep away the cobwebs of aristocracy, and reduce 
 every man to his proper level. Farewell to thee, old Red- 
 wood ! A yankee has looked at thy dingy walls, and left 
 for thee a prophecy, that, ere this century closes, thou and 
 the institutions that fostered thee shall lie as low as this 
 broad level now before me ! 
 
 The boat to which we are transferred, is a long narrow 
 craft, much like a canal boat, with a smoke pipe in the cen- 
 tre, and wheels on the sides. The deck is about even with 
 the surface, and back of the pipe a room is built up for a 
 cabin, over which we pass from the forward, or main deck, 
 to get into it. A walk three feet wide, with a railing, is 
 built for that purpose, with one or two latteral jets, where 
 
THE UPPER SHANNON. 323 
 
 one can step aside for an other to pass. The cabin is a very 
 plain affair, having windows on each side, and furnished with 
 several small tables for the use of such as wish to eat or 
 drink. A small cook room, at the entrance, does not add 
 much to the comfort of one's olfactories, unless he be hun- 
 gry and has money, and then the tedium of preparation 
 well nigh destroys his appetite. But if the eight or ten pas- 
 sengers we have is a sample of the amount of travel, the 
 " Inland Company" can not afford to furnish better accom- 
 modations. The stewardess did her best to give us a com- 
 fortable dinner, for which she did not forget to ask a pretty 
 large price, and the " little something" for herself, besides, 
 to which last, of course, we could not object, it being the 
 fashion of the country. But who would honor such a de- 
 mand on our boats. But here a man must " be hanged and 
 pay a forty shilling." 
 
 The country, this side the bridge, becomes flat and 
 swampy. The shores are low, barely rising above the sur- 
 face of the water, and vast prairies sweep off on both sides, 
 much in the fashion of the bottom lands on the banks of 
 our western rivers. These extensive flats afford grazing 
 for large herds of cattle and sheep, which are now scattered 
 over them, but are not capable of cultivation. In winter, 
 I am told, they are covered to the depth of two or three 
 feet, when all this region looks like a vast lake. The river 
 is narrow, crooked and deep, about the size of the Raritan, 
 with bold shores and a sluggish current. Occasionally a 
 point of elevated land comes down to the river from the 
 distant hills, which is cultivated, and contains a few misera- 
 ble dwellings. But there is something attractive in the still- 
 ness of this broad level, for it is well to go into retirement 
 occasionally, and give space for reflection where there is no 
 object but God higher than one's self A deep solemnity is 
 breathed around, and a fearful sense of responsibility 
 awakened, which stirs the inmost feelings of the soul and 
 makes one feel conscious of his dependence, and grateful 
 for his sources of enjoyment. In this country especially. 
 
J924 VICTORIA LOCK. 
 
 where the heart is pained at the sight of wrong, oppression 
 and crime, this scene of unabused nature affords relief. It 
 reminds me forcibly of the vast prairies in our western coun- 
 try, as a poor miniature will awaken love for an absent 
 friend. But there is a bleakness and barrenness about the 
 boggy portions of this flat area which have no correspond- 
 ence in our prairies ; and the distant heathy hills do not 
 compare well with their rolling undulations and skirting 
 forests. 
 
 In the midst of this monotonous scenery there stood the 
 ruined walls of an old castle, which appear like a scar 
 upon the smooth face of an uninteresting countenance. Si- 
 lent, solemn, lonely, they stand there, patiently enduring the 
 mockery of the passing age, and muttering, like a toothless 
 octogenarian, rebukes and prophecies of evil over the ex- 
 travagance and radicalism of the present generation. 
 Some misanthropic squire, whose feats of chivalry won 
 not the hand of his lady-love, must have chosen this lone- 
 some spot to hermitize himself from the varied pleasures 
 of social life, and bemoan the tedium of life's ebbing cur- 
 rent, as he watched the lazy movements of this sluggish 
 stream, meandering reluctantly towards its ocean home. 
 Or, else, the sturdy Protestant, fearing the level of equal 
 »oleration, put up this castle to hold the persecuted Catho- 
 lic at bay, in his narrow dominions, and show the strength 
 of Saxon power to crush the liberty and destroy the 
 rights of his Celtic brother. No matter; it has had its 
 day ; served its time ; fulfilled its mission, and gone into 
 ruin. The world has no longer any need of it. It is va- 
 luable only as a tombstone of the past — a monument of 
 what was. 
 
 An hour, at a lazy pace, and we are at the " Victoria 
 lock," through which we have just passed. It is a mag- 
 nificent work. Like the bridge before noticed, it is built of 
 huge blocks of lime-stone, put together in the most thorough 
 and finished style. I do not know the dimensions, but judge 
 it must be one hundred and fifty feet long, twenty-five wide, 
 
MARTELLO TOWER. 325 
 
 and eighteen deep. It is sufficient to raise our steamboat 
 eight feet. It was thought, by its projectors, to be worthy 
 of the Queen's name, which is sculptured upon each side 
 of it, and is said to surpass any other of the kind in the 
 kingdom, being little inferior to the celebrated locks into 
 the docks at Liverpool. The operation of locking through 
 it is the same as on our canals, and is done with equal ex- 
 pedition. In size it may not equal the locks on the Ohio, 
 at Louisville, but in style it is vastly superior. 
 
 Not far from the lock, on one of the low islands formed 
 by the branching of the river, is a Martello tower, of mo- 
 dern erection, designed for some military purpose, I sup- 
 pose, for the " dogs of war" are mounted upon the summit 
 of its walls. It does not look like a very formidable affair, 
 but is sufficient to overawe the " natives" and keep them 
 in subjection. The government surely can not fear that 
 the marine of an invading foe will ever penetrate so far 
 into the interior of this country ; and if it should, this lock 
 is a better barrier than a dozen cannon, ever so well 
 manned. I am not able to comprehend the design of such 
 a fortification, in such a place. There are a thousand 
 places where the river can be passed, as well as here 
 When I first saw it, I thought it must be a light-house. 
 But these dark lanterns, pointing over the wall, can not be 
 designed to guide and save men from shipwreck, but to 
 alarm, and subdue, and kill — fit emblem of England's policy 
 towards her own subjects, at home and abroad. 
 
 Beyond the tower, on the Galway shore, the ruins of 
 Meelick Abbey were pointed out to us, which indicate a 
 building of large size and considerable splendor. The low 
 lands are here cultivated, and large meadows of luxuriant 
 grass indicate their fertility. Detached hills are seen in 
 the distance, and plateaus of elevated ground between 
 them and the river, approaching, in some places, near to it. 
 A small stream comes in from the east, up which we see 
 some handsome grounds, a small hamlet, and one of the 
 oldest inhabited castles in the kingdom, formerly belonging 
 
 - 28 
 
326 A SWEET spc r. 
 
 to the Mac Coghlers, but now occupied by one of the 
 O'Mores, some connexion of " Rory," perhaps, for Chris- 
 tians, in this land, "give heed to endless genealogies." 
 The situation is very beautiful, and, if I lived there, I 
 should dislike, exceedingly, to have my "dhrames always 
 go by conthraries." 
 
 The branch up which we are sailing is little more, in ap- 
 pearance, than a canal. The banks are low, and the chan- 
 nel so narrow one can almost leap from the boat to the 
 shore. Several small green islets are scattered about care- 
 lessly, among which we wind on our way. What adds 
 much to the beauty of one lonely spot we are passing, and 
 affords relief to the general nakedness of the country, is 
 a beautiful copse of trees which skirt the northern border, 
 beyond which, on a gently rising ground, is a splendid man- 
 sion, with a green lawn in front, extending some twenty 
 rods to the water, with richly decorated gardens on the 
 side beyond. A sweet little island, studded with trees, and 
 entangled with shrubs and vines, in rich profusion, gives it 
 a wild and romantic appearance, and I can almost fancy I 
 am in my own native land. A most lovely spot ; of all 
 others, just the place I should choose, was I to live in Ire- 
 land. It is beautiful : but not for that would I choose it ; 
 for there are many others as enchanting about the Killar- 
 ney lakes, and along the Lower Shannon, and on the bor- 
 ders of the sea. But this is so isolated from the sight and 
 hearing of misery, that I do actually feel relief as I pass it, 
 to find that there is a spot in this fated land where one 
 can hide away from the wail of poverty and suffering. 
 The flat moors and meadows all around are so vast that 
 no cry can sweep across them ; and he who has the 
 good fortune to live here, may not grow callous to the 
 sentiments of humanity, by the constant entreaties of 
 starved millions. It is an oasis in this miserable, but 
 beautiful land. Sweet, charming spot, I pass from thee 
 with regret, fearing I shall not soon " look on thy like 
 again." 
 
BENNAGHER. 327 
 
 A few turns and we are at Bennagher. It is what we 
 feared to find it — fair in the distance, but more miserable 
 as we approach it. And yet here are the evidences that 
 power, wealth, and industry exist somewhere, for we are 
 now laying along side of a fine quay, and close under a 
 massive bridge, whose noble piers and broad arches span 
 this fine river, and whose buttresses and parapets rise twenty 
 or thirty feet above it. We have just been up the bank 
 and taken a glance at the town. It looks like a place 
 of considerable business, has one or two large churches, 
 numerous stores, and a bank, and exhibits signs of life 
 we have found in no place this side of Limerick. Nu- 
 merous soldiers are loitering about the street and quay, 
 and I have just counted seventeen looking down upon 
 us from the bridge. The captain of the boat has had a 
 long conversation with one of the officers and some police- 
 men on shore There is a military station — infantry bar- 
 racks, field works with several pieces of ordnance, for 
 what I do not know. Opposite there is a Martello tower, 
 with a battery mounted on the top. It stands as a guard 
 at the Galway end of the bridge. One would suppose this 
 river was the boundary of two kingdoms, by the array of 
 fortifications seen on both sides. 
 
 A gentleman has just informed me that there are, at pre- 
 sent, three fortified passes of the Shannon, and this is one of 
 them ; the other two are above, one at Shannon Bridge, 
 some ten miles distant, on the Roscommon side, and the 
 other at Athlone, some twenty-five miles from this place, 
 and near the outlet of Lough Rea. The latter is a town 
 of considerable importance, and the fortifications are on a 
 large scale. It has a strong castle, or citadel, erected in the 
 reign of King John, but since enlarged and strengthened. 
 It stands on elevated ground, on the West Meath side, and 
 commands the bridge and both sides of the river. It is 
 surrounded by extensive breast- works, mounted with artil- 
 lery, all ready for action. On the opposite, or Roscommon 
 side, are forts and redoubts which guard all the approaches 
 
328 A CAUSE CF ENVY. 
 
 from Connaught. The armory contains fifteen thousand 
 stand of arms, and there are barracks, store-houses, hospi- 
 tals, and all the appurtenances of a strongly fortified town. 
 Shannon Bridge has a less formidable show of military de- 
 fences, but superior to what we see here. These places 
 were the principle passess from Connaught to Leinster, in 
 olden times, and hence they were strongly guarded, as well 
 as those above Lough Rea. But the government has not 
 seen fit to keep up any others ; and why these are he was 
 not able to inform me. There certainly can be no more 
 danger of a rebellion in Connaught, among the wretched 
 and destitute population of Gal way, Mayo, and Sligo, than 
 in Tipperary, Cork, or Kent, or even in Ulster, for Mitchell, 
 of whom we hear so much, is an Ulster protestant, and 
 O'Brien is a protestant from Limerick. 
 
 It looks unchristian to see these hordes of men in martial 
 attire, loafing about the streets, whose well-filled capons ex- 
 cite the envy of the starved wretches over whom they keep 
 watch, and tend to foster a spirit of discontent, and hostility 
 to the government "which keeps up such distinctions. But 
 there is shrewd policy in this procedure. All the best 
 young men are enlisted into the army, navy, or police ser- 
 vice, where they are fed and clothed at the public charge, 
 and in good style, and well paid, so as to make them con- 
 tented with their condition, and attached to the interests 
 of the government in any course it is pleased to adopt. And 
 then it is politic to keep up a fair military show, both to 
 overawe the people, and to attract the attention of ardent 
 and ambitious young men, who may be induced to fill up 
 all the vacancies which may occur in the ranks of the pub- 
 lic force. England boasts of her constitutional freedom, 
 and the leniency of her laws ; but, really, I have, so far, seen 
 little proof of either ; but much which comports with the 
 ideas I have formed of a military despotism. It may not 
 be the despotism of one individual, of an absolute monarch ; 
 but the despotism of many individuals, petty tyrants, who 
 play the autocrat, in the landlord, agent, and middle-man, 
 
FORCIBLE AND PERMISSIVE WRONG. 329 
 
 to all intents and purposes, in their own spheres and over 
 their own vassals. England is, at least, so far as Ireland is 
 concerned, a military aristocracy, which is absolute so far 
 as the interest, the welfare, and even the lives of the 
 masses are concerned. It matters little whether a military 
 officer orders a corporal's guard to seize a man, chain him 
 down to his coffin, and then commands a platoon to shoot 
 him through the heart, or whether a landlord's agent, with 
 a sheriff and posse of policemen evict him, and turn himself 
 and family out upon the world, without any source of living, 
 and leave them to die, inch by inch, of starvation. The 
 latter is often done, and for fear the people will rebel, these 
 fortifications are manned with the armor of death, and 
 young men are trained to sear their consciences against the 
 voice of God, uttered in the rights and wants of a common 
 humanity, and to obey the command of a superior officer 
 to do any deed, however barbarous, under the penalty of 
 losing their own lives. This is English freedom, and Ire- 
 land's blessing, gained by conquest and the union of 1800. 
 The soldiery in Ireland, at this time, out-numbers the whole 
 army of the United States in a time of peace, more than 
 four times. Its social condition can be easily inferred from 
 this circumstance. 
 
 From Bennagher to Shannon harbor, the current of the 
 ^ river is scarcely perceptible, and the shores are low and 
 boggy. At the former place, we passed through a shallow 
 lock, of two or three feet, near which two or three freight 
 boats were lying. We have, so far, seen nothing to indicate 
 any great amount of business done on this great central 
 thoroughfare of this densely populated country. A traveler 
 would see more stir and business in a single hour, on the 
 Erie canal, than he could here in a week ; for there boats 
 are passing constantly, while here, in our whole route from 
 Limerick, we have not met or passed a single boat, in mo- 
 tion, and not a dozen lying idle at the landings. There 
 certainly can be no thrift in a country so favorably circum- 
 stanced for the growth and transport of an immense amount 
 
 28* 
 
330 TUE QUESTION OF RIGHTS. 
 
 of produce. There must be something radically wrong in 
 the management of affairs. If the fault is all to be attached 
 to the peasantry, it is high time some measures were 
 adopted to instruct them in a better course. If it is the 
 landlords who are to blame, something should be done to 
 bring them to a sense of duty. If it is the government 
 who does all the wrong, makes all the mischief, then a re- 
 volution should set matters to rights. But, what is more 
 plain, if all are alike concerned in the transgression, and 
 have helped, more or less, to produce the ruinous state of 
 things every where prevailing, it then becomes a mutual 
 duty, as all are alike interested, to remove the impediments, 
 and introduce and sustain measures which can appeal to 
 the sentiment of justice, and give assurances of general 
 good. The government should protect the tenant, the 
 small farmer, and the day-laborer, as well as the land- 
 owner and middle-man, and give encouragement to honest 
 industry. The landlord should study the rights and happi- 
 ness' of his tenants, and seek to promote their welfare as 
 well as his own. And tenants should know the rights of 
 the landlords, and respect them, and do all that justice de- 
 mands at their hands. 
 
 But here comes a difficulty, alike troublesome to the 
 well-taught philosopher and the unsophisticated peasant. 
 On what basis do these rights rest? By what standard, 
 are they to be tested ? The man of the world, the officer 
 of government, the sinecure aristocrat, may have no trou- 
 ble in satisfying their minds. They assert, without hesita- 
 tion, that the government has all rights at its disposal — to 
 create, modify, or abrogate, at pleasure. The crown has 
 portioned out these baronies to the marquis, earl, lord, or 
 gentleman, and entailed the fee in their first-born male 
 heirs throughout all generations. The crown has estab- 
 lished a church, and the occupiers of these lands must give 
 a tenth of all their income to support its clergy and digni- 
 taries, whether they believe their doctrines and sit under 
 their administrations or not. The crown must be defend- 
 
NATURAL RIGHTS. 331 
 
 ed, right or wrong, and these armies and navies must be 
 supported, to preserve peace at home, and prosecute con- 
 quests abroad. 
 
 These nohltmen have redder blood in their veins, and 
 they and their families must be supported in indolence and 
 luxury, at foreign courts, at the expense of these tillers of 
 the earth. All this is very plain, because very lawful and 
 common. And if these poor tenants complain, it is their 
 own fault. Here is the land ; it will produce enough to 
 pay rents, tithes, taxes, county-cess, and leave potatoes and 
 oat-meal for them and their little ones to live on, if indus- 
 trious and prudent ! But they do not work half so much 
 as they should, and, unfortunately, the potato-rot has taken 
 away their main sustenance. But if they are not satisfied 
 they mav quit, and shirk for themselves. Scotch and 
 English farmers can be had, who will do better than these 
 have for themselves and for us. So argued a landlord to 
 me, to day, and added, that, " You are welcome to all our 
 Irish population, if you want them." My reply was, that 
 we did not want them, but were willing to be merciful to 
 such as their inhumanity forced upon us. 
 
 The Christian philosopher and humble peasant view this 
 matter in a different light, and from different stand-points. 
 They go back of human law, when they talk of natural 
 rights, which God has enacted and made fundamental to 
 human legislation. They do not understand the justice or 
 the wisdom of the present apportionment of God's heritage, 
 made alike for the benefit of all his children. They repu- 
 diate the doctrine that kings and barons have divine rights, 
 more than others, and that priests are God's oracles on 
 earth. If the Jews paid tithes to support one of the 
 twelve tribes, that tribe had no land, while every other 
 had a right to possess a " tenant-right" from Heaven, and 
 no one could monopolize a large territory ; not even the 
 king could obtain the vineyard of Naboth, without the 
 wicked intrigue of Jezebel, and the " nobles" who suborned 
 " two men of Belial" to perjure themselves, by which the 
 
332 A CURE OF THE PEOPLe's WRONGS 
 
 " inheritance of his fathers" was confiscated on grounds 
 not unlike those employed by Cromwell and the Christian 
 kings of England to obtain these Irish possessions — 
 " Naboth did blaspheme the name of God and the 
 king" Poor Ireland has been wrono;ed these four centu- 
 ries, and is well nigh dead, and its land, by perjured men, 
 has been parcelled out, and given away, while its rightful 
 owners are required to till it at the bidding and on the 
 terms of their oppressors. 
 
 It is difficult to understand the right of such institutions, 
 or to discern how a better state of things can be reasona- 
 bly expected, till some radical change takes place. The 
 poor laborer does not understand why he should toil and 
 starve, to support the pride of boys and girls made of such 
 material as himself. He finds no such direction in the na- 
 tural constitution of the world, nor in the revealed will of 
 God. And the better he becomes informed, the more de- 
 graded he feels in his dependent and servile condition. He 
 rejects, repudiates, demurs, and finally refuses, and is then 
 cast out to starve for his stubbornness. Or, if by chance, 
 one should be raised to a rank with the favorites of go- 
 vernment, the change is so great, and the influences so 
 strong, that he " forgets, straightway, what manner of man 
 he was,'' and becomes, in turn, the oppressor of his bre- 
 thren. 
 
 The philanthropist sees no hope of any thing like perma- 
 nent improvement under the present system of laws. 
 Every thing indicates that changes from bad to worse will 
 continue, till the culminating point is reached — which can 
 not be far distant — when a new and better order will arise 
 out of the present confusion. But it is needless to talk 
 about paying the Catholic priests — such pap may quiet a 
 ^Qw, but it can not satisfy the masses. It may help to weld 
 the chains of church and state, and keep the masses 
 crushed a while longer, by the imposition of a new burden, 
 but it can never exalt the people to rational freedom, or the 
 dignity of men. And yet, it is said, government seriously 
 
SOUGHT IN THE RESTORATION OF MONASTERIES. 333 
 
 contemplates the manoeuver, to which it has been urged by 
 certain demagogues, who tremble for the fate of a state re- 
 ligion. The Catholics, generally, pretend to oppose the 
 plan, and propose another, equally objectionable. To the 
 question, *' What is to be done with Ireland — and how is 
 Ireland to be relieved from her present misery ?" the Ro- 
 man Catholic clergy answer, " The means of giving to Ire- 
 land permanent future prosperity, rests in the restoration to 
 her of the possession of her ancient and long-tried Insti- 
 tute — the Monastic Order Let Ireland again have 
 
 her Monastic Institute, and she begs no more. Let her 
 have that, and her children are no longer stamped with the 
 character of laziness or ignorance."* And the English 
 Parliament is invoked to turn back to the days of moral 
 darkness, to seek a solace for Irish suffering. How the up- 
 rearing of convents and nunneries would remedy present 
 evils, it is difficult to see, unless by diminishing the increase 
 of population ! That is needless, for it is estimated, with 
 good reason, that Ireland, under proper management, could 
 sustain double its present population. In my humble 
 judgment, it would add but an other barrier, more formi- 
 dable than any other, to the accumulated wrongs under 
 which this nation is now" struggling, and retard its deli- 
 verance for centuries. 
 
 " Monastic Orders" are not very distinguished for the 
 advocacy, establishment, and defence of popular liberty 
 
 * " But to give permanency and perfection to Irish prosperity, a restoration 
 of her olden system is absolutely necessary. Let there be in every district a 
 monastic establishment, calculated, by its number of inhabitants and its tem- 
 poral means, to give education in every branch of requisite knowledge. Let 
 the Monks, in their lowly habit and life of self-abnegation, be empowered to 
 scatter the seeds of that science, which ever makes men industrious and cha- 
 ritable. Let their well-cultivated fields be as so many patterns to each surround- 
 ing neighborhood — let their early-tolled bells announce the cheering note of 
 happy labor in the fields ; and let their holy conversation stimulate the rising 
 youth to works of piety, to the practice of virtue, and to the perfect fulfil- 
 ment of all their duties as Christians, and as subjects of the British Empire." 
 —Rev. M. Scallt,0. C. C. 
 
 !•. 
 
334 AN EXPERIMENT DEMANDED 
 
 and equal rights, without which no nation can be truly 
 exalted and happy. Witness Italy, Spain, Portugal, Mexi- 
 co, and the kingdoms of South America. Wherever and 
 whenever ecclesiastics have borne rule, personal liberty, 
 religious, political, and social, has been trampled down, the 
 most sacred rights invaded, and the people reduced to pe- 
 nury, ignorance, and the most abject dependence and ser- 
 vitude. Who that has passed through the districts of Ire- 
 land, the German States, the Swiss cantons, and Catholic 
 and Protestant countries, has not been surprised at the 
 contrasts which indicate the limits of ecclesiastical autlio- 
 rity and religious freedom ? The line of civilization and 
 barbarism are not more distinct. 
 
 But that experiment has been tried, and the world is sa- 
 tisfied of its inadequacy. The millions groaning in bon- 
 dage and poverty, " laziness and ignorance," in the coun- 
 tries before referred to, are a sufficient warning. It will 
 take better proofs than the Carmelite Convent at Knock- 
 topher can afford, to satisfy the democratic tendency of 
 the present age, that these monasteries are institutions for 
 the benefit of the masses, for the enlightenment and equali- 
 zation of mankind, and the fraternization of the classes, 
 without distinction of caste, condition, sect, or race. The 
 spirit of this age is Christian, eminently so. Its demands 
 and proffers are universal. It overleaps all barriers, sun- 
 ders all covenants, repudiates all claims, and tramples down 
 all forms, which error and selfishness have reared on earth, 
 for the division and alienation of humanity. It proclaims 
 the fast the Lord hath chosen " to loose the bands of wick- 
 edness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed 
 go free, and that ye break every yoke." It does it in faith, 
 believing that God's promise is about being fulfilled, when 
 the light is to break out like the morning, and health to spring 
 forth speedily, while righteousness goes before, and God is 
 the rearward. The disintegration of mankind by the con- 
 fusion of tongues has been fulfilled ; the " Shiboleths" of 
 h'lman councils have been tried, and signally failed ; and 
 
ON t3ROADl::U FK1XCIPLE3. 335 
 
 now, the deep voice of himianity, which found an utter- 
 ance in true and courageous nien, on the hills and plains, 
 in the cities and villages of Palestine, in the judgment hall 
 and in the temple, before the Areopagite and at the Diet 
 of Worms, still speaks, louder than seven thunders, calling 
 upon the nations to be free, wise, good, and happy. It is a lan- 
 guage which all can understand — love, liberty, fraternity, 
 equality ! It is the language which God, by prophets, pro- 
 mised — " to turn unto the people a pure language, that they 
 should call upon the name of the Lord, to serve HIM with 
 one consent." Each true man, with faith in Christ, feels 
 that he is a king and priest unto God, and that none of 
 Adam's race, or Saul's descent, have a right to step be- 
 tween him and his Maker, to enslave either bodv or souL 
 He asks for the liberty wherewith Christ hath made him 
 free, and will not be again entangled in the yoke of bon- 
 dage. He will consent to government for the mutual pro- 
 tection it affords, and will help to support it, voluntarily 
 and cheerfully. He will receive priests after the order of 
 Melchisedec, who come, like the great Master, to serve 
 mankind by lessons of wisdom and examples of piety, and 
 he will love and honor them. But he sees no virtue in the 
 " mysterious oil" which anoints a king, or consecrates a 
 priest. He discovers no rightful power in the coronet of 
 the noble, the mitre of the bishop, the ermine of a judge, 
 or epaulet of a general, which is not derived from the con- 
 sent of the people. He rejects the " regis," repudiates the 
 ecclesiarch, and pleads the general issue. 
 
 Irishmen have been compelled to know some thing of 
 these principles. Their hills and their bogs, their oppres- 
 sors and their miseries, have taught them to be free. 
 Manv most distinoriished men in America are from Ireland. 
 Her patriotic sons have served in the battles of most of 
 the armies of the civilized world, and have distino-uished 
 themselves by the most heroic valor. The fields of Clon- 
 tarf and Waterloo, the heights of Quebec, the plains of 
 New Orleans, the waters off Trafalgar, the moats of Ba- 
 
336 IRISH VALOR. 
 
 dajos, the walls of Toulouse and Salamanca, and, more re 
 cently, Monterey, Cerro Gordo, and Chapultepec, with a 
 thousand others, have been stained with the warm blood 
 of Irishmen. And who will talk about " monasteries," "legal- 
 ized tenant-rights," and " pay for the Catholic clergymen," 
 as sugar-plums to reconcile them to their wrongs, or make 
 them loyal to their oppressors. ) 
 
 I know, and have confessed, that many Irish are degra- 
 ded, ignorant, lazy, improvident. But does that justify op- 
 pression, or argue that the longer denial of their rights 
 will afford them relief — that to pay clergymen and help 
 landlords, will make the people contented and happy ? 
 Never. This age has learned to discredit the doctrine, 
 that to protect the rich is to provide for the poor, and that 
 the repetition of mass in a convent will make a community 
 rehgious. It now asks, as of yore, " Do not the rich op- 
 press you ?" (James 26,) and demands that each man 
 should have a chance to be rich and religious for himself, I 
 while every man " bears his own burdens." Ours is emi- 
 nently a practical age. The days of abstractions are past, 
 and examples and illustrations are now demanded. And 
 if ye will have it so, ours is a radical age ; first principles 
 are discussed. The axe is laid at the roots of the trees of 
 social life. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is 
 hewn down. Kingcraft and priestcraft have been tried — 
 well tried. They have flourished luxuriantly. But their 
 fruit has been the apples of Sodom — death to every thing 
 like rational liberty, equal rights and social happiness. The 
 christian leaven is now at work. The fermentation has 
 already begun. Agitation is the consequence. Expansion 
 will follow. The systems of government will become more 
 liberal. The natural and inalienable ria;hts which God has 
 given to his children will be better understood ; and such 
 laws will be enacted as will secure to all their free exercise, 
 and make penal every infringement, by high or low, rich or 
 poor. Then every man will rise or sink to his proper level, 
 and the race will progress to the obtain ment of the great 
 
AN OPPORTUNITY WANTED. 337 
 
 ends of existence, order, love, and unity — the glory of God 
 and the happiness of the world ! Amen ! 
 
 These notions may be considered Utopian by the unbe- 
 lieving. They would be by myself had I not learned them 
 from One who had the truth, and bore witness to it, under 
 circumstances darker than these. I see clouds, though no 
 bigger than a man's hand, which indicate commotions which 
 will purify the atmosphere, and change the aspect of things, 
 turning the parched ground into pools of water, and spread- 
 ing life, and health, and beauty every where. The quick 
 perceptions of the Irish, when once an opportunity is offered^ 
 will direct them in a proper course of action. What they 
 need is a removal of their burdens, not an increase of them, 
 and words and examples of encouragement. Let the rulers 
 of the land once deal justly and equitably with all the peo- 
 ple, and give free opportunity, and these agitations will 
 cease, poverty will be speedily removed, and Ireland will 
 become a prosperous, happy, and loyal country. Extortion 
 and oppression, the crushing weight of political and social 
 disabilities, kept under the espionage of priests, policemen, 
 and standing armies, the minions of aristocracy, can only 
 make the present difficulties more intricate, and procrasti- 
 nate the day of redemption. " Blessed are the merciful, for 
 they shall obtain mercy." Like will produce like ; Ireland's 
 wretchedness and depravity can all be explained according 
 to the eternal laws which rule the world ; and its deliver- 
 ance and enfranchisement can only be obtained by obedience 
 to the same. Let the poor be loved and cared for, let justice 
 be done to all — its image is represented blindfold, holding 
 the equal scales in a steady hand — let all false, unnatural, 
 and unjust distinctions be removed, and this " gem of the 
 ocean," shall no longer be tarnished as now, with scenes of 
 wrong and outrage, and misery which so despoil its beauty. 
 The people will learn to love and appreciate knowledge and 
 virtue, and will enter cheerfully into the habits of peaceful 
 industry which will be no longer unrequited. What bless- 
 ings would not result to England, and our own country, and 
 
 29 
 
338 SHANNON HARBOR. 
 
 to the world, from such a course of christian justice and 
 benevolence ! Figures could not compute them. Time, 
 in its long duration, would continue to develop them, and 
 eternity in its blaze of glory reveal them all. 
 
 Shannon harbor is that point of the river where the grand 
 canal crosses it from Dublin to Ballinasloe. It is a lonely 
 spot. There is no village or buildings near the junction. 
 A miserable wharf in bad repair, and a shackly bridge are 
 the only indications of a harbor. Some distance to the 
 east, there is a large hotel and canal station, and at the west 
 a small dwelling for the lock tender. To the north, the 
 country is flat and uninteresting as far as we could see, 
 through which the sluggish waters of the Shannon meander. 
 The Brosna river, one of its principal tributaries, enters at 
 this point, from the east, and not far above, on the opposite 
 side, the Sack. 
 
 We waited some time for the packet boat from Ballinasloe, 
 some fifteen miles distant, situated on both sides of the Sack, 
 in Galway and Roscommon counties, and at the termina- 
 tion of the Grand canal. We amused ourselves in talking 
 with some ragged girls, who came with small cans of milk 
 and an old half-pint tin cup, to supply the wants of travel- 
 ers. I patronized one of them in order to gain her confi- 
 dence. They looked famished and miserable. I gave her 
 an extra penny, the price of two cups full, and told her to 
 drink it herself. She said she did not dare to drink it, for 
 " sure the Missus would bate her an she did." I told her to 
 keep the penny then, and buy her some bread. That she 
 did not dare do lest the mistress should hear of it and ac- 
 cuse her of stealing it. So she refused to take it. This 
 certainly was a striking proof of the falsity of the whole- 
 sale aspersions of Irish character. Still, I am inclined to 
 think that there was no great virtue in the refusal, for she 
 seemed to covet it, and no doubt felt actually worse than 
 she would if she had been free to accept it. It is a virtue 
 of subjection which is exceedingly degrading to a sensitive 
 
LA»V AND ORDER. 
 
 339 
 
 mind. That conduct which is produced by no higher mo- 
 tive than the fear of punishment, is of questionable merit, 
 whatever the results may be. Every action, to be merito- 
 rious, must be free and voluntary, dictated by a conscious- 
 ness of what is right, and designed for good. A submission 
 or morality, extorted by the pressure of outward influences, 
 possesses no merit. " It is that which cometh out of a man 
 that defileth him." 
 
 I also had a conversation with a gentleman who related 
 to me a fact which serves to show how " law and order" 
 are preserved m this country. In the hunting park of 
 
 Lord , a poor laborer poached a rabbit. He was 
 
 detected in the act and shot dead by the forester of the 
 " nobleman." The facts became known, yet no more at- 
 tention was paid to them than there would have been at 
 the slaughter of the vilest reptile that crawls on the earth. 
 I have heard of many cases where the tenants who have 
 killed game which was destroying their crops, have not only 
 been heavily fined but imprisoned also. Notices of " vio- 
 lence and outrages" of this character rarely find a place in 
 the columns of the English journals, great sticklers as they 
 affect to be for the sway of " law and order. To shoot an 
 animal which is destroying the crops of the poor tenant in- 
 volves fine and imprisonment, but to shoot the tenant him- 
 self involves scarcely the notice of an inquiry ! 
 
 There is, at present, no regular line of steamboats to 
 Athlone, though I am told the river is navigable to Lough 
 Allan, some eighty or ninety miles farther. In our coun- 
 try, new as it is, such a stream would not long remain 
 undisturbed by regular lines of boats, laden with the fruits 
 of industry, cheered by the animated countenances of 
 those by whom they were produced. 
 
 Ballinasloe, the residence of Lord Clancarty is said to 
 have been a place of a good deal of business, where the 
 largest cattle fairs in the kingdom were formerly held— 
 sometimes as many as eighty thousand sheep and twelve 
 thousand horned cattle, and goods to the amount of £500,- 
 
340 ATHLON E. 
 
 000 changed hands at a single fair. It is now, however, 
 hke all other parts of the country, fallen into poverty and 
 ruin, through the neglect of the proprietor.* 
 
 I have a strong desire to visit Athlone, one of the most 
 important towns in the central part of the kingdom ; and 
 also the celebrated " Seven Churches" at Clanmacnoise, just 
 this side, where a large round tower, and the ruins of the 
 churches are still to be seen. It is described as a desolate 
 and forsaken spot, on a barren ridge of gravelly hills, near the 
 banks of the Shannon, now celebrated only as a place of 
 burial, where numbers of the simple and superstitious pea- 
 santry desire to have their remains deposited, as in a hallowed 
 spot, and near to heaven. Athlone is still a place of im- 
 portance as a military station. Its position is said to be 
 beautiful ; its name is poetic ; and its history interesting 
 going back to the first records of this country. It has been 
 the scene of many wonders in war and religion, and still 
 bears the marks of antiquity and splendor. It stands so 
 near upon the borders of the different provinces, formerly 
 kingdoms, Meath, Leinster and Connaught, and not far from 
 Ulster and Munster, and being strongly fortified, it became 
 a point of great importance in the civil wars which har- 
 rassed the country. And the English seized upon it early 
 as an important post to keep the conquered provinces in 
 subjection, and perpetrated some of their bloody deeds for 
 the support of opposing dynasties. The army of king 
 William, under General de Ginckle, met with a long and 
 brave resistance from the army of king James, under 
 General St. Ruth, in 1691, but succeeded in capturing the 
 castle and routing the latter, which it finally conquered on 
 the field of Kilcommadan, near Aughrim, a few miles from 
 Ballinasloe. The castles in this region, and through Con- 
 
 * " The town of Ballinasloe — some two or three years since, one of 
 the most improving in the western province — is now converted by the happy 
 management of Lord Clancarty and the guardians into one vast lazar-house — 
 the concentrating point of all the destitution, disease, and vice of the largest 
 union hi Inland, with only one exception — the huge Golgotha of Connaught." 
 
ANTICIPATIONS. 341 
 
 naught, are innumerable. Almost every large building was 
 a fortification, designed to protect the neighborhood from 
 the forays of English miscreants who hunted the Irish 
 Catholics like wild beasts, of which they wished to rid the 
 land. One writer says : " Before the arrival of Henry II. 
 there were not more than four or five castles, except those 
 built in towns. In Henry the Eighth's reign there were up- 
 wards of five hundred of these small castellated houses in 
 the county of Galway, and since that period, chiefly in the 
 reigns of Mary and Elizabeth, they multiplied exceedingly. 
 The common, small, square castles were the residences of 
 English undertakers ; and all those built before the reign 
 of James I. were executed by English masons, and on 
 English plans," — an indication of English interference in 
 those times, and the deadly warfare between the Protestant 
 and Catholic religions. 
 
 I am comforted with the thought that my inability to 
 visit these places, will save my feelings from those pain- 
 ful reflections to which they have been subjected ever 
 since I landed at Kinsale. I have no heart to search fur- 
 ther into the wrongs and miseries of the west of Ireland. 
 I have been through the worst counties, and I am glad to 
 go eastward, through Meath and Ulster, which are called 
 the best portions of Ireland. But I have already seen a 
 country good enough in all that nature could do for it, but 
 sadly disfigured by man's perversions. I have been up the 
 noblest river Britain can boast. I have looked upon ver- 
 dant hills, productive vales, and sparkling lakes, which 
 would adorn the face of any country. And I have seen 
 how much the pride of man can abuse the blessings of 
 God — how degraded one can make an other. I turn my 
 back upon the west of Ireland without regret, but thank- 
 ful that I have seen it, and learned the workings of aristo- 
 cratic institutions and religious bigotry, when carried to 
 their legitimate results ; and hoping to find yet some more 
 redeeming qualities in the Emerald Isle. 
 
 29* 
 
342 CANAL PACKET-BOATS. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 DUBLIN. 
 
 A Canal Boat. — A Conversation Overheard. — British and American Valor. 
 — Personal Liberty essential to Prosperity. — First Principles to be studied. 
 — Individual and Social Responsibility. — The Preparations adequate to a 
 Republic. — Approach to Dublin. — Elegant Station-House. — Wellington 
 Monument. — An Enthusiast. — The Shelter. — The Quays. — The Custom 
 House. — The Post-Office. — Nelson's Pillar. — Bridges. — Four Courts. — 
 Parliament House. — Trinity College. — Revolutionary. — A Carmelite Fri- 
 ar. — The Castle. — Saint Audoen. — Crowds of People. 
 
 We are now transferred to a canal packet-boat, which, 
 for neatness and accommodation, accords very well with 
 what else we have seen along this route. It is more spa- 
 cious and convenient than the one on which we rode from 
 Limerick to Killaloe. The main cabin is wide enough for 
 a stationary table, arranged close to a line of cushioned 
 seats on one side, with barely room to pass and repass on 
 the other. Though a night-boat, there is not the least pre- 
 paration for sleeping — not a pillow, quilt, or blanket. For- 
 tunately for us, there are few passengers, and so we have 
 a more comfortable prospect before us It is singular, that 
 a company having the entire monopoly of a line of com- 
 munication through the center of a country so densely 
 populated as this, and connecting two of the principal cities, 
 should, after so many years' experience, be unable to pro- 
 vide no better means for the transport of passengers. Our 
 own packet-boats are bad enough, as every body who has 
 traveled in them can testify, but they are palaces, com- 
 pared with these dark, dirty, lumbering affairs. Ours, espe- 
 cially those upon the Erie canal, are light, neat, and airy ; 
 and Yankee ingenuity has contrived a way to suspend pas- 
 sengers for the night, where there is a possibility of getting 
 a little of " nature's sweet restorer." It is not very com- 
 fortable, I admit, to be hung up, three deep, by a tow 
 string, and have the floor spread over with sleeping huma- 
 
TROUBLES OF DISTINCTIONS. 343 
 
 nity, so thick that one can not pass out of his prison to get 
 a breath of pure air, without trampling under foot his fel- 
 low beings ; but even that is better than no sleep at all. 
 But here we are not troubled with a crowd of travelers. 
 We have not enough to cheer us, as we look forward upon 
 a flat and uninteresting country and a sleepless night. 
 
 The contrast between the amount and comfort of travel- 
 ing in this country and in ours, is indicative of the relative 
 condition of the two nations. With us, all is enterprise 
 and activity. Every body is agog after something, and a 
 thousand topics of business, politics or religion will be dis- 
 cussed, and every man feel free to take a part. Here 
 there is no bustle, little sociability, and few tokens of con- 
 tentment and prosperity. Arrangements for two classes 
 of passengers, in such small dimensions, is attended with 
 much inconvenience. They are troublesome every where. 
 Pride and distinction always bring anxiety and trouble. 
 He who cherishes the one, or is raised to the other, must 
 either forget his humanity, and sunder the ties which 
 should attach him to his fellow-men, or else, he must be 
 constantly tormented with a series of annoyances from 
 .vhich the true man is always glad to be delivered. Some 
 men will bear promotion without misery : because they 
 forget not themselves nor their responsibilities. Such will 
 bear adversity and the reproaches of the world with equal 
 dignity. They are actuated by a spirit of nobleness which 
 is unaffected by time, place, or circumstance, and, when 
 the rich and the poor meet together, they remember that 
 the " Lord is the maker of them all." But the institutions 
 and very existence of this country are based upon aristo- 
 cratic distinctions, which can not be touched, in any de- 
 partment, without endangering the whole fabric. It would 
 no more do to admit a free, democratic intercourse, and 
 mutual respect and politeness between the classes, than it 
 would for Southern men to admit their slaves to the bene- 
 fits of a good education, and free intercourse with the peo- 
 ple of the North. 
 
344 BOG OF ALLAN. 
 
 The boat m wnich we are now ensconced has come 
 from BalUnasloe, the end of the Grand canal, from which 
 place it has brought three passengers of the first class, and 
 as many of the second. An equal number from our boat 
 make, all told, twelve. Of these, only three besides our- 
 selves have a place in the main-cabin. Two of these are 
 gentlemen, the other is a lawyer, all lusty loyalists, as we 
 learn from their conversation. Two are bound to Tulla- 
 more, to attend the assizes, the other to Dublin. This one 
 I take for an EngUshman, by the dignity he assumes, and 
 the sneering and reproachful manner with which he speaks 
 of every thing that is not English. The two former joined 
 our company a few miles back ; the latter came from Bal- 
 linasloe. 
 
 After leaving the Shannon, the canal runs nearly parallel 
 to the river Brosna, and not far from it, with few villages, 
 houses, or demesnes, Vv^orth the trouble of inquiring so 
 much as their names. In fact, we are now entered upon 
 the celebrated and vast Bog of Allan, which covers an ex- 
 tensive area, reaching nearly from the Shannon to the Irish 
 sea, and spreading off to various widths, north and south. 
 Elevated points project into it from both sides, and, in some 
 places, hills attain the height of several hundred feet. 
 Where the ground is sufficiently elevated, like islands in 
 the sea, it is exceedingly fertile, and, it is said, most parts 
 of it are capable of cultivation, by the aid of draining. 
 The hills, to the north and south, in West Meath and 
 King's counties, appear very beautiful, and, in many places, 
 are seen the ruins of old castles, handsome plantations of 
 trees, and well-cultivated lands, which give proof of what 
 the hand of enlightened and liberal industry might accom- 
 plish. But, generally, it is a broad expanse of deep peat, 
 a cheerless brown waste, relieved only by the villages and 
 hamlets in the distance, with here and there a culiivated 
 farm, and genteel residence, scattered at great distances 
 from each other. 
 
 After writing up my notes, I stretched myself upon the 
 
, FOIIEIGN AID FOR IRELAND. 345 
 
 seat, with my sac de nuit for a pillow, and overcoat for a 
 coverlet. The Englishman was supping on tea, and a 
 " loaf and butter." The two attorneys were chatting on 
 various topics, such as the state trials going on in Dublin, 
 the probable success of the rebel movement, and the mea- 
 sures in progress to suppress it. In the course of the con- 
 versation, mention was made of the expected interference 
 of France, which was soon dismissed as an improbability, 
 and as worthy of little notice, even if the new republic 
 should be foolish enough to attempt to assist the "rebellious 
 Irish CathoHcs." The Englishman thought there was 
 " nothing to fear on that score, but that there was really 
 cause to apprehend that the Americans would become 
 deeply enlisted in behalf of the Repeal movement, inas- 
 much as the last news had brought information of immense 
 gatherings to express sympathy for this country, and to 
 adopt measures to aid the rebels here." 
 
 The fat Irishman at once joined, " There is no doubt 
 of it, for a great many of the lower classes have gone to 
 that country, who would neglect to do nothing to revenge 
 themselves upon the landholders, of whose conduct 
 they complain so bitterly. But they can accomplish no- 
 thing." 
 
 " There is no danger of the final result," added the 
 Englishman, " though it might, for a time, cause us a good 
 deal of trouble. We are abundantly able to fight the 
 Americans, and beat them at any point." 
 
 " Not the least," chimed in the other lawyer ; " but I do 
 not believe there is the least danger of it. The Americans 
 are too shrewd to venture upon a war with this country. 
 They know too well the strength of our navy, and their 
 own inability to cope with it.'' 
 
 " I know it," said the Englishman ; " but I did fear, at 
 one time, we should come to open hostilities on the Oregon 
 question. If we had, there is no doubt we should have got 
 the better of them in the end, and done better than we 
 did by the compromise, for they would have been glad to 
 
346 ENGLISH ANI \MERICAN 
 
 have settled with us on any terms; but it is far better that 
 the two nations should live in peace with each other." 
 
 " Most certainly it is," added the fat man, " for a war 
 would injure us more than them. We are dependent upon 
 them for cotton, and were, last year, for grain and other 
 provisions. Great calamities would have befallen us if we 
 had been at war at that time; our sufferings must have 
 been indescribable." 
 
 " Yes, and we should have suffered not a little by a di- 
 rect conflict," joined the other; "for the United States 
 have become a powerful nation, as their battles in Mexico 
 abundantly prove. They have achieved some of the 
 proudest victories which have ever graced the arms of 
 any nation." 
 
 " That is very true," remarked the Englishman ; " they 
 are a courageous people, and valiant in their wars ; for, 
 although we are so vastly their superiors, they contrived, 
 by some means, to get the advantage of us in nearly all 
 the battles of our last war with them, although their ves- 
 sels generally carried fewer guns and men than ours." 
 
 " It was so," added the fat lawyer, " and we were com- 
 pelled to admit their superior heroism, for their numbers 
 were always inferior, and yet, in almost every case, as you 
 say, they contrived to gain the victory over our arms. 
 America, it must be admitted, is becoming a mighty nation, 
 one of the most powerful on earth, and will, if the States 
 keep united, hold the balance of power. I did not think 
 republicanism could be so favorable to a valorous spirit as 
 it has proved to be in t \at country." 
 
 " They are worthy of their origin," added the English- 
 man, complacently, and in the true style and spirit of his 
 countrymen. " They retain the blood of their ancestors, 
 and it would be unnatural for them to go to war with us." 
 
 " A war would be greatly deprecated, under any circum- 
 stances," said the fat lawyer. " It is therefore to be hoped 
 they will be too prudent to give any aid to the attempt of 
 the insurgents in this country to overturn the government, 
 
VALOR COMPARED. 347 
 
 for that would be a virtual declaration of war, and would 
 be so understood and treated by the Crown." 
 
 We listened with a good deal of curiosity, and were not 
 a little amused at the commentaries upon the valor of our 
 nation as displayed in our past history. At one time, my 
 national feeling was riled considerably, and I was tempted 
 to obtrude a reply to their bragging about the ease with 
 which our country could be whipped by old England, by 
 referring them to New Orleans and some of our naval 
 engagements. But I screwed up my self-control and kept 
 silence, simply to learn what other people think of us, for 
 no one suspected us of being Americans. And when they 
 came to mention, in a side-way manner, the defeats their 
 nation had sustained in its unnatural and unrighteous con- 
 flicts with us, I felt more than revenged — I was proud at 
 the confession ; for, peace-man as I am, I can not be indif- 
 ferent to praise, when expressed under such circumstances. 
 It seemed to be the fulfilment of a doggerel verse I used to 
 hear sung when a boy. 
 
 " We'll make old England's children know. 
 
 We are the brave descendants 
 Of them who flogg'd their fathers so, 
 
 And gain'd their Independence." 
 
 There is a feeling of selfishness wrapt up in all bosoms 
 of which it is not easy to divest one's self. This feeling 
 expands, and adapts itself to circumstances — first, the indi- 
 vidual, when all else seems to stand opposed to it ; next, the 
 family and circle of particular friends ; then, the neighbor- 
 hood, town, state, or nation. The highest and perfected 
 state of the human soul is, when it comes to obey the Chris- 
 tian law, and love God and all men, to feel an interest in the 
 welfare of the race, rising above all personal, local, and na- 
 tional considerations, and breathing the pure atmosphere 
 of equal justice, and universal love and liberty. But, alas, 
 for poor fallen humanity ; how few there are who are able 
 to burst the fetters of exclusiveness which have been riveted 
 
348 THE ERRORS OF FEUDALISM. 
 
 upon the first impressions of childhood, and been fastened 
 closer by ihe advance of years, and a greater familiarity 
 with the workings of social, political, and even religious 
 intercourse and authority. The tendency of church and 
 state has been to keep the soul contracted within the shell 
 of a pure, or, at best, a mixed, selfishness ; and thus prevent 
 the full development of those better principles which live 
 deeply in the human heart, and manifest themselves under 
 favorable circumstances, when the pure, warm sun of love 
 and truth arouses them from their torpidity, and stirs them 
 to high and noble action. There are times when every man 
 will feel better than his actions indicate ; when his heart 
 will relent at the sight of suffering itself has connived at ; 
 and then a fegirful sense of responsibility will suggest re- 
 forms, and the adoption of new and more comprehensive 
 systems of effort, which will accord with the advanced 
 steps he has been able to take. 
 
 The great hindrance in the way of human progress is 
 found in the old and erroneous systems which had their 
 origin in ages of darkness, when a spirit of pure selfishness 
 governed the nations, and kings, priests, and nobles ruled 
 with a rod of iron. From the highest to the lowest, every 
 man played the tyrant over his fellow-man, and no two had 
 an interest in common, or felt a responsibility too sacred to 
 be broken at pleasure, unless it was the responsibility of 
 dependence, and subjection. 
 
 The aggregation of society, subsequent to the overthrow 
 of the ancient order by the savage hordes of northern 
 Europe, took place under circumstances unfavorable to the 
 preservation of individual rights and personal freedom. 
 Feudalism had its birth then, and the church sanctioned its 
 pretensions for its own advantage. Might became the law 
 of right, and religion served at its altar. Holy oil, meant 
 for the race by Him who established the " perfect law of 
 liberty" and bade all men look into it, was stolen and secret- 
 ed under the dark and solemn mysteries of the church, to 
 be employed only in the consecration of the princes of 
 
IN CiiUUCII AND STATE 349 
 
 temporal power, who first swore fealty to the godless de^ 
 mands of the priesthood. And thus an unnatural uniton 
 was consummated which has produced a large progeny 
 of monsters, which, though constantly becoming more and 
 more imbecile, because less frightful, still infest the world, 
 and inflict many miseries upon it by the law of succession 
 and entail, by which alone the monarchies and hierarchies 
 of the present day pretend to have any claim to respect or 
 confidence. But monsters can not propagate their species. 
 
 Individual character has been formed under such unfa- 
 vorable influences, and it is no wonder that wrong, distrust, 
 and oppression still disfigure it, dry up the sources of true 
 philanthropy, and divest it of half its glory, by making it 
 still a suppliant at the feet of religious pride, and political 
 arrogance, content to bury itself under the dark folds of 
 royal and priestly drapery. The human mind is not left 
 free to prosecute its investigations except in directions 
 which do not jeopardise the claims of superiors The Re- 
 formation did much — most because it exhibited the spectacle 
 to the world which has never^ been wholly obscured, that 
 there is in human nature a power to resist, a right to pro- 
 test, and a necessity for reform. It was not what Huss and 
 Luther, and Zuinglius, and Calvin did, but what they begun 
 to do, for which the world has reason to.be grateful. 
 
 It is a pity the governments of the eartli, and the coun- 
 cils ol the church, so soon sanctioned and adopted what, at 
 first, was pronounced to be illegitimate. Caressed and 
 pampered in the bosom of royal profligacy, the church soon 
 became, itself, a profligate, and looked with disdain upon 
 the principles which gave it birth, ii the mother church 
 fretted and scolded at the partial disavowment, the ambi- 
 tious potentates and young nobihty which were hatched on 
 the occasion, were abundantly satisfied, and royal injustice 
 and oppression had no cause of complaint. The act itself 
 was little more than the separation of the family. But 
 that was complete, and a work was begun which must 
 eventuate in the final deliverance from all temporal and 
 
350 DISORDER AND EXTRAVAGANCE. 
 
 spiritual bondage, the setting up of a kingdom and dominion 
 in which truth and righteousness shall rule supreme, and 
 man be acknowledged the brother of his fellow- man. 
 
 Such a time has not come yet, but faith sees it approach- 
 ing. The promise and prophecy of Him who can not lie 
 foretell it; and the commotions, agitations, upheavings, and 
 reactions of the world indicate it, for, on the whole, there is 
 a progress — a religious, political, individual, and social pro- 
 gress. Confusion must always precede order, and change, 
 improvement ; as the breeze precedes the shower, and dark- 
 ness the light. Fire is produced by collision, and before 
 the sun shone, " darkness was upon the face of the mighty 
 deep." Old forms must be reduced to a state of fusion, or 
 be in solution before principles can be precipitated, and new 
 forms be assumed by the primary law of adhesion or crys- 
 talization. So the incrustation of society must be broken 
 up, and men be led back of " magna chartas," and the 
 mis-shapen forms of aristocracy, to first principles, and the 
 primitive laws by which God governs the world and holds 
 every man, and society itself, responsible to answer as it 
 has answered in time past, and will do again before a more 
 fearful judgment which is approaching, and which no man 
 can escape. 
 
 Of course, disorder, confusion, and, in some cases, mad 
 extravagance will attend such a breaking up of the founda- 
 tions of the mighty deep, into which individuals and nations 
 have been plunged by the accumulate oppressions of cen- 
 turies, which kings, priests, and courtiers have inflicted upon 
 an unsuspicious and long-suflfering community ; and no won- 
 der, if creatures who have forgotten their manhood to make 
 themselves distinguished, and to live in ease and affluence 
 without the labor of meriting a decent livelihood, should be 
 most loud and bitter in their complaints. Whose pride was 
 ever humbled, or his sins rebuked, without a murmur ? Nor 
 would it be a very strange procedure if vengeance should 
 seem sweet to those so long neglected, oppressed, and 
 abused, when it comes their turn to say, in the language of 
 
THE PRECURSOR OF IMPROVEMENT. 351 
 
 old, " how art thou become as one of us?" And yet it is a 
 fact, not to be passed without notice, that the most inhuman 
 outrages have generally been committed in the name and 
 under the sanction of what the nations have regarded " law 
 and order." Multitudes are not easily incited to demonstra- 
 tions of revenge, for all will not be passionate alike at the 
 same moment. But a despot, in whose hands are the Uves 
 of millions, used to the free exercise of his uncurbed will, 
 may put thousands to death, merely to prevent the least in- 
 vasion of his absolute sovereignty over his fellow mortals, 
 who are morally and intellectually as good and wise as him- 
 self, and no one may open his mouth but at his peril ! 
 
 In the sight of God and reason, wherein is the life of 
 a man covered with tinseled robes, with a few gems in the 
 cap he wears, better than any other man's ? Was he not 
 born naked and helpless as any other child ? Does he not 
 eat, and drink, and sleep like other men ? Will not cor- 
 ruption and worms devour his body as soon ? Do not 
 others feel pain as keenly as he ? Where, then, is the 
 proof of his " divine right," and in what is his life and 
 happiness more sacred than an other's ? Then why should 
 the slaying of a king be magnified into a regicide, which 
 demands a severer censure than the thousands slain by that 
 same king's command ? Is there greater enormity in one 
 case than in the other, when weighed in the scales of eternal 
 justice? Why, then, should it be thought an act of so 
 great abhorrence when the people, the masses, attempt to 
 test their manhood, by standing up before priests and 
 princes, and proclaiming, in God's name, the natural and 
 eternal law of equal rights and mutual responsibility, by 
 which society should be governed ? And why should men 
 be of faint heart while the struggle for such liberty is go- 
 ino- on ^ Rather should the true and faithful be of good 
 courage, and " hope unto the end," for such a victory shall 
 be won— such a triumph is as certain as that a just God 
 rules in the " armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants 
 of earth." No power of kings, no machinations of priests 
 
352 ^ JL'STtPJGrYTlONS FOR A REPUBLIC. 
 
 and politicians can prevent it. He who holds the hearts 
 of all men in his hand, and can turn them at His pleasure, 
 before whom the nations are as nothing, and less than va- 
 nity, will hearken to the cry of the oppressed, and give 
 liberty to captives ! Even so ! 
 
 Such were some of the reflections which floated through 
 my mind, as I listened to the conversation of these admi- 
 rers of royalty and supporters of exclusive privileges, 
 and my night visions were haunted by striking contrasts 
 between the actual condition and prospects of Europe and 
 my own country. I felt that I was approaching the very 
 scenes of which report had brought the most exciting ac- 
 counts before I left home ; that I was near the vortex of 
 that fearful crater, where the elements of royalty, feudal- 
 ism, and aristocratic privileges, were melting, and fusing 
 together, and the democratic principle was assuming new 
 and strange forms — hideous and alarming to those unfami- 
 liar with the workings of free thought, as manifested in the 
 changed relations of social life. I confess, that with all 
 my love and admiration of the largest liberty, and glowing 
 sympathy with the common people, and hearty detestation 
 of the arrogant and wicked pretensions to any thing like 
 special right, and privilege, and superiority, except that 
 founded upon actual, persona] merit, I could not forbear 
 the thought that it was a fortunate time when the republi- 
 can principles of our government were proclaimed, and 
 that ours is a peculiar people. 
 
 Few nations are equal to the establishment of a demo- 
 cratic republic. The love of power and privilege has too 
 deep a hold on most hearts ; and the masses are too igno- 
 rant of their own strength, and the proper method of using 
 it — are too little inclined to combine and act in union — are 
 too easily deluded from the support of their principles, and 
 defence of their rights, by the flatteries and vain promises 
 of intriguers, who will do any thing to make game of 
 them, and to assist the nefarious designs of crafty, plotting 
 men, whose selfishness controls every other sentiment of 
 
PRINCIPLE ESSENTIAL TO FREEDOM. 35& 
 
 their souls, and makes them the oppressors of their fellow- 
 men, invaders of the most sacred rights God has vouch- 
 safed to the sons of men. And I already see the mighty- 
 obstacles to be encountered by those whose views have 
 outgrown the institutions under which they live, and whose 
 aspirations move them to undertake the work of self- 
 deliverance. 
 
 There is here, as every where, a class of men who have 
 gifts, and claim to be wise, who are in the market, ready 
 to be bought up by the party offering the highest price. 
 Principle with them is nothing but an article of traffic — 
 a proposition on which to found a plea, if it suit their turn. 
 Such will stand by their clients to the last, for their fee de- 
 pends upon it. Unfortunately, this class too often enjoys 
 the confidence of the masses, who, modest in their con- 
 scious incapacity, look with trusting favor upon their fair 
 pretensions and solemn asseverations, and are too often be- 
 trayed into conditions more wa'etched and hopeless than 
 those from which they undertook to deliver themselves. 
 Ours was a young nation. There were no leaders. The 
 people went for themselves. Each felt that he was free ; 
 that none had any right to exercise authority over him. 
 The government was the voice of the whole concentrated, 
 and the Constitution the rule by which that voice should be 
 uttered. But here there is little chance for such a revolu- 
 tion. The people are not capable. 
 
 In the first place the masses are not informed. They 
 have no consciousness of their own rights. Secondly, they 
 are not united. No common sympathy attracts them to- 
 gether. They are alike dissatisfied with the government, 
 and complain bitterly of their wrongs. But what one con- 
 demns an other approves. They have no confidence in 
 their leaders, nay, not so much as in one an other. They 
 have no principle of union, no one point of agreement. 
 What can be expected from this state of distraction but 
 failure in every attempt that shall be made ? It was union 
 that gave success to the American cause. All jealousies 
 
 30* 
 
354 WANT OF UNITY. 
 
 were banished, local considerations waived, and the co- 
 lonies united as with the heart of one man. They strug- 
 gled together, and triumphed. There is no such feeling 
 here. The hostility is common, but nothing else. The 
 whole country is split into fragments, and the factions are 
 bitter and unrelenting in their hate. The energies of the 
 people are destroyed, for in nothing can they make com- 
 mon cause. Religion, and politics, and local prejudices, 
 imbitter their feelings, and, except in their hatred of the 
 English government, there is no agreement among them. 
 They would as soon fight one of their own countrymen, 
 from Ulster or Connaught, an " Orange-man," a " Ribbon- 
 man," a "Molly Maguire," or "Corkonian," as a red-coat 
 of the Queen's army. The meaning and force of that 
 new and expressive word " fraternization" is not under- 
 stood ; and nothing — yes, nothing, can be done. They 
 will not act in concert. O'Brien and Mitchel are Protest- 
 ants. Some others are Catholics. But all agreement be- 
 tween these leaders is looked upon with suspicion by the 
 masses ; and division and failure must ensue. It can not 
 be avoided. 
 
 We passed, during the night, Tullamore, the present, and 
 Phillipstown, the former capital of King's county, and 
 some other smaller towns. The former I should judge to 
 be a place of considerable business, and of modern and re- 
 spectable appearance. The others we did not see. Most 
 of the way, I am told, the land is low, boggy, and unculti- 
 vated, with only here and there a plantation or a village. 
 
 On going upon deck, this morning, I found some addi- 
 tion had been made to the list of our passengers, for seve- 
 ral were stretched about, sleeping with no covering but the 
 lid of night, hung about with a drapery of clouds. The 
 heavy dew had wet their thin, coarse garments, but they 
 heeded it not. Men and women were lying about promis- 
 cuously, and with little regard to the rules of delicacy. 
 
 We met with nothing to cheer the sluggishness of our 
 spirits till we arrived at Sallins, where we were trans- 
 
APPROACH TO DUBLIN. 355 
 
 ferred to the cars which conveyed us to Dublin. The 
 country continues to improve as we approach the city. 
 Industry has turned the natural richness of the soil to a 
 better account. Good taste is displayed in the order and 
 neatness of the houses, and grounds about them. The ap- 
 proach to Dublin is remarkably beautiful, exceeded by few 
 cities, especially if seen as I saw it, after a wearisome 
 journey, amid destitution and misery, and on a clear, sweet 
 spring morning. 
 
 Before us opened the sweet valley of the Liffey; ex- 
 panding as it reaches off to the sea ; reflecting, in the dis- 
 tance, the slanting rays of the early sun upon its mirror- 
 surface. The tall spires, and loftier towers, partially en- 
 veloped in hazy clouds of smoke., indicated the locality of 
 the city. On the right towered, in the distance, a range 
 of sombre hills, trending east and south, whose nether 
 ridges were not yet illumined by the rising sun. All 
 around us was a beautifully undulating champaign coun- 
 try, with some richly cultivated lands, elegant plantations, 
 and princely mansions scattered about ; while behind, as 
 we fondly believed, were left the lonely bogs, the dilapida- 
 ted hovels, and the gaunt forms of oppressed and famine- 
 stricken humanity which had marred so much of the coun- 
 try through which we had passed. An oasis had, at last, 
 been reached, in what had been, hitherto, comparatively a 
 human desert, and henceforth the brighter, the sunny side 
 of Irish life only was to appear. Dublin was to efface — to 
 atone for all the rougher social aspects of the country of 
 which it was the boasted capital — to be the diamond set in 
 pearls, glittering, in its repose, on the bosom of the Eme- 
 rald Isle. 
 
 Fond delusion ! how quickly dispelled ! A brief half- 
 hour brought us to the city, and tumbled in ruins the beau- 
 tiful castle which our imagination had reared. Here, as in 
 all the places I have visited, were presented the extremes 
 of wealth and refinement, and want and moral degradation. 
 Here, where had been located our Irish paradise, fell on the 
 
350 RAILROAD STATION, 
 
 ear the old note of, " An' may the Almighty God give ye 
 moony blessings an' a happy journey, an' ye'll be giving me 
 a ha'-penny, to buy bread for till ate." 
 
 " It is Ireland still," remarked my friend, as we passed 
 out of the station-house. 
 
 " Who can doubt it," I replied, '' with such unquestiona- 
 ble proofs of the fact before us ?" 
 
 Then came the usual retinue of car-men and porters, and 
 all the attendant nuisances of such localities. We did not 
 rush through the multitude, but stopped to take a look at the 
 buildings of the " Depot" — Stations, they call them here, 
 as vv^e ought to in our country. " Depots" are for goods ; 
 " Stations" for passengers.* It is a remar-kably light and 
 airy building, but of immense size. I did not measure it, 
 but should guess it to be, at least, five hundred feet long, 
 and one hundred and fifty wide. Eight tracks are laid with 
 spaces for carriages and walks for foot passengers. The 
 side-walls of the main building are of brick, but all the 
 rest, columns and roof, is of iron. A line of windows, on 
 both sides of the ridge, makes it as light as if there was no 
 cover. The walls, posts, rods, and under side of the roof 
 are all painted white. A large platform, where the baggage 
 is received and delivered, on one side of which are the 
 baggage rooms and offices for the sale of tickets, is kept 
 clear of all persons not employed by the company. Be- 
 yond this is the main entrance to the building, the rooms 
 for passengers, and offices for the transaction of business. 
 This portion is in process of completion. It is a massive 
 structure, of hewn stone, richly sculptured, and every way 
 grand and beautiful. 
 
 As I looked upon its swelling buttresses, its lofty tower, 
 and its smaller turrets, its arched door ways, and ornamented 
 windows, and thought of the condition of the people, and 
 the old castles I had seen, I could not refrain from thinking 
 
 * Even in France and Germany the English word "station" — sta-ci-on — 
 sta-ti-on is used. Railroads are of" English origin, and hence the word. Singu- 
 lar we should borrow a French word. It is bad taste, and worse judgment. 
 
 5 
 
UTILITY i'.EFOilC CXTilAVAG ANTE. 357 
 
 ihtit feudalism still lives — lives in all its force and tyranny, 
 but changed from man to money, which is now the lord, 
 while the poor people are vassals still, and as much as ever 
 crouch beneath its ponderous burthens. It is said the rear- 
 ing of such structures gives employment to the people, and 
 scatters money and comforts among them. If it does, it 
 soon recalls it and leaves the result of labor piled into a 
 mass, to be controlled by a monopoly which looks to some- 
 thing else than the permanent improvement of the laboring 
 classes. Pride and interest so befog the minds of corpora- 
 tions that the blood and sweat of the laborer, the comforts 
 of his wife and education of his children, are not often seen 
 to be of much consequence, by what scattered fragments 
 may be left. The feudal lord loved his vassals in propor- 
 tion as they served his pride and interest. What do cor- 
 porations more, whether employed in railroads, coal mines, 
 steam navigation, or the manufactories of cotton or woollen 
 goods, cutlery, or paper money, or in rearing proud temples 
 for the service of the humble Nazarene ? 
 
 It would be well enough to lay out money in any piece 
 of foolish extravagance, if such extravagance did not foist 
 a class into a position permanently pernicious to the inte- 
 rests of the common people — if, as in early christian days, 
 " all things were to be common." But the very fact that 
 such dead works, as can not be made useful, are the privileges 
 of the few, and calculated to excite a feeling of envy and 
 discontent in the breasts of those who can never aspire to 
 possess them, nor their like, is enough to make their con- 
 struction of doubtful utility. As works of art they are very 
 well, for all can look at them, and they become common 
 property. As castles for the rich, and palaces for the proud, 
 be they individuals or bodies, they are pernicious, and be- 
 token an evil spirit, because partial and exclusive. I do 
 not object that a man should build his house to suit his taste 
 and promote his comfort ; it is his right, and no man should 
 oppose or restrict the exercise of it ; but if he robs ten men 
 of their houses to do it, the moral of the act is questionable 
 
838 
 
 THE USEFUL BEFORE THE ARTIFICIAL. 
 
 — I think the act itself reprehensible. The rearing of this 
 Station-house is very well ; and those ornaments look very 
 fine, but they contrast badly with the poverty and suffering 
 about them — like a jewel in a swine's snout. 
 
 Mark, gentle reader, I do not object that these things are 
 done, but that the other is left undone. This may be -the 
 means of elevating and improving the masses, and promoting 
 general prosperity, but the history of the past renders it 
 very doubtful. Convenience before extravagance, comfort 
 before ornament, nature before art, respect and love for all 
 before the apotheosis of a few. Such is the spirit of the 
 true, the working of the good. Philanthropy — a broad, 
 limitless benevolerice, which stoops to relieve the wants of 
 the humblest sufferer of wrong, now calls aloud and asks to 
 be heard. Humanity is the thesis to be studied ; its rights, 
 its duties, its developments, are the problems to be solved. 
 Christianity must be made practical. A sound wisdom 
 must mould anew the plastic elements of society, now fused 
 and solved by the fervid revolutions of the past. The 
 nebulous sky is clearing up ; the misty darkness disappears. 
 Rays of light and hope are breaking through from every 
 quarter of heaven. A better day is coming. Some turgid 
 forms still live. Monarchy has not doffed his crown, nor 
 superstition her cowl, nor pride her feathered cap, but know- 
 ledge in the hands of the people, will lay the heads of all 
 bare, and justice claim her right. Righteousness shall 
 dwell in the earth, and liberty be established. Such is the 
 purpose of God. Who shall hinder it ? 
 
 CITY OF DUBLIN 
 
 On quitting the station, the first object that met our eye 
 was the massive obelisk of Wellington, erected in honor of 
 that illustrious Irishman. It stands on the opposite bank of 
 the Liffey, at the entrance to Phoenix Park, and makes 
 an imposing appearance. The base upon which it stands 
 can not be less than a hundred feet square, and twenty 
 
AN ENTHUSIAST. 359 
 
 eet high, which is ascended by steps. Tlie pedestal must be 
 over fifty feet square and twenty high, from which the obeUsk, 
 about twenty feet square, rises, I should think, a hundred 
 and fifty feet, tapering gradually to the summit, making the 
 entire height two hundred feet. The sides of the shaft are 
 lettered with the names of the places where the " noble 
 Duke" displayed his skill in killing his fellow-men, beginning 
 with India and endmg with Waterloo. On one side of it is 
 a pedestal designed to support an equestrian statue of the 
 hero, when he has himself rode into eternity. 
 
 Following the street on the right bank of the LifTey, we 
 soon found ourselves in a handsome and busy city. Splen- 
 did bridges, elegant buildings, gay shops, and a busy people, 
 impressed us favorably with the town, Without much 
 trouble, we found our way to the house to which we had 
 been recommended by a Quaker friend, whom we met on 
 our way up the Shannon. 
 
 Having secured our lodgings, we started out to take a 
 view of the city, and see and learn what we could of the 
 capital of the kingdom. We had no guide, no plan ; barely 
 a general idea of what was to be seen in the way of public 
 buildings, parks, and people. Resolved to make the best 
 use of our time, we commenced on a street leading south, 
 turning off to the east, and so round by the north, to prevent 
 the necessity of going over the same ground again. 
 
 The first portion looked old and neglected, but respecta- 
 ble. We soon came to a better portion, where the streets 
 were wide, the buildings new, and every thing neat and 
 elegant. Stopping to look at a new and handsome church, 
 we were accosted by a man who volunteered to describe it, 
 and also give a lecture on the heresy of the doctrines taught 
 in it, and the abominations of the papal practices performed 
 in an other near by. From these he passed to an other theme 
 and undertook to enlighten us upon some peculiar points 
 of theology he thought himself commissioned to advocate. 
 Whether the fellow was an enthusiast or a maniac, I could 
 not determine, for the resemblance, in such cases, is often 
 
360 THE SHELTER. 
 
 SO intimate that it is difficult to do so. We bore with him 
 till our patience failed us. We tried to treat him respect- 
 fully ; but, in such cases, that is not enough, for such men 
 claim a sort of " divine right,'*' analogous to the authority 
 of kings. He insisted on our hearing him through, and 
 even threatened us, if we would not embrace his peculiar 
 notions, with the most terrible punishments. We told him 
 we had come to Ireland to see and learn something about 
 the actual in human condition ; the theological we had at 
 home, in all its varieties ; and, besides, we did not think the 
 open street a proper place for lectures on religious topics. 
 He persisted in his right to our patient attention, and became 
 so earnest in his harangue that our Ysmkeeism would en- 
 dure it no longer and we started. He followed us with 
 bitter threats and fearful imprecations, for spurning his of- 
 fered grace. 
 
 Well, thought I, there is every thing here to produce agi- 
 tation — the elements of a fervid and eternal antagonism, 
 the sources of the bitterest and most resentful rrialice, as 
 well as the widest disparity in the temporal condition of the 
 people. But my friend said the fellow was crazy, although 
 he claimed to be a preacher to a large congregation. 
 
 A little farther on, we came to the " Shelter," a benevo- 
 lent institution, founded for the protection and reformation 
 of discharged female convicts. Having taken some inte- 
 rest in a like institution in our own city, established in con- 
 nexion with the " Prison Discipline Society," we desired to 
 inquire into the workings of one which had existed long 
 enough to test the humane experiment. Accordingly, with 
 true Yankee impertinence, we presented ourselves at the 
 door, and asked to see the matron. We were invited into 
 a neat sitting-room, by a young woman of very respectable 
 appearance. In a few minutes the matron entered. We 
 introduced ourselves as strangers from America; but as 
 friends of the race, and lovers of virtue and benevolence, 
 every where ; and as anxious to inquire into the processes 
 and progress of philanthropy in the older country. She 
 
ITS MANAGEMENT. 361 
 
 received us cordially, and entered, at once, into an expla- 
 nation of the origin, progress, and condition of the institu- 
 tion under her charge. It is a voluntary society, sustained 
 by private benevolence and the industry of the innaates. 
 Like all such institutions, it has had many difficulties to 
 encounter, not the least of which have been produced by 
 religious hostility. There are some people who must have 
 every thing done in their own way, and all the honor ap- 
 propriated to a particular sect or party, or they will do no- 
 thing, but prevent all they can. The " Shelter" has exist- 
 ed several years, and outlived, in part, such hostility, and 
 has now many friends among the benevolent of various 
 names and ranks. Here, in addition to the religious castes 
 of our country, there are the social and political to be en- 
 countered. 
 
 The matron, I should judge, from her dress, is a Qua- 
 keress in her associations. She is an immensely large wo- 
 man, larger than the Superior we saw in the school at Li- 
 merick. My friend says she is the largest woman he ever 
 saw. She is over six feet, and well proportioned ; rather 
 masculine, but modest and agreeable. She conducted us 
 about the establishment, contrary to the custom not to allow 
 gentlemen to visit it. In consideration of the interest we 
 j manifested, and for the regard she cherished for every 
 1 American, she wished to signify to us some peculiar honor. 
 Every part of the building exhibited the marks of the ut- 
 most neatness and order. Every thing was like wax- work, 
 from the coal-cellar to the dormitories in the garret. The 
 principle employment of the inmates is washing and iron- 
 ing. For this purpose most excellent arrangements are 
 made, with boilers, tubs, water, tables, heaters — every thing 
 necessary for convenience and dispatch. The house is 
 kept well aired, and the inmates are remarkably healthy ; 
 scarcely a case of sickness has occurred in several years. 
 The inmates themselves look neat and healthy, and some 
 of them, in their personal appearance, are really handsome; 
 none are ugly. The spoiler always seeks the fairest ob- 
 
 81 
 
362 DIFFICULTIES AND SUCCESSES. 
 
 jects. Beauty and prettiness are always dangerous — often 
 ruinous for a female, unless accompanied by strong moral 
 and religious principle, the only safeguard against the se- 
 ductions of flattery, and the treachery of wicked men. 
 These unfortunate women appeared contented and cheer- 
 ful, with a few exceptions, and these, we were told, were 
 of recent admission. They modestly noticed us as we 
 passed, and kept busy at their work. 
 
 I have forgotten the number of inmates at present in the 
 " Shelter." The matron, Mrs. Moore, informed us that the 
 institution nearly supported itself, and would quite, if it 
 could have custom sufficient to employ them all the time. 
 Some objected to giving them their work, and the competi- 
 tion is so great, occasioned by so many girls being out of 
 employ, that they were obliged both to reduce the price, 
 and suffer for the want of custom. Generally speaking, 
 she assured us, the girls for whom she had obtained places, 
 had turned out well. But it was very difficult to get good 
 places for them. Many people are prejudiced against re- 
 ceiving one who has been with her, and others are not 
 disposed to treat them well. Some, after leaving her, had 
 been neglected and abused, became discouraged and fell. 
 She thought, if she was in this country, she could do much 
 better — that our prejudices are less, and our hearts more 
 liberal, and that the reformed would be more cherished, 
 and the penitent more readily forgiven. I was sorry to be 
 compelled to correct her mistake, and to assure her that, 
 with all our love for liberty, and approval of goodness, and 
 sympathy for the oppressed, our Christianity has not taught 
 us " to receive such ones" into our confidence, and encou- 
 rage them to keep, henceforth, the path of innocence. We 
 are all too unforgiving ; and thousands now welter in infa- 
 my, who might have been saved by the helping hands of 
 generous and forgiving professors. Society has fearful re- 
 sponsibilities, and Christians too, for the sins of omission, 
 for which both must answer, at a just tribunal. 
 
 She thought that our western country offered opportuni- 
 
THE SUFFICIENCY OF LOVE. 363 
 
 ties for the settlement of people beyond the reach of city 
 temptations, where the weakest virtue could be nourished 
 and become strong. I found she labored under the too 
 common mistake, that America is a paradise of purity and 
 plenty, where the poor can be fed, the wicked restored, and 
 all made happy. It was sad for me that I had, so often, to 
 break the illusion, and dispel the charm, by a sober descrip- 
 tion of the reality. Justice demanded it, that the contem- 
 plated projects so often indulged might not lead to unfore- 
 seen disaster. 
 
 One thing I admired very much, in the system of govern- 
 ment established in the " Shelter." It is purely parental, 
 and based on " love." The matron assured us that no 
 other would succeed. The least show of severity, not ac- 
 companied by an expression of love, was most fatal. The 
 experiment, on the old principle, had been made, and sig- 
 nally failed. She had taken the opposite course, to the en- 
 tire satisfaction of all. Better order, more work, and 
 truer reforms were the result. She believed it utterly im- 
 possible to govern an institution of this kind, successfully, 
 in any other way. These poor, crushed creatures must be 
 encouraged, persuaded, led ; they can not be driven, and it 
 is worse than needless to attempt it. She narrated some 
 incidents which had occurred in the course of her experi- 
 ence, to sustain this position, which forcibly illustrated the 
 sufficiency of love to correct the vices of the most de- 
 praved. I felt my heart rejoiced at this new proof of the 
 power of love, and thanked my God that these Christian 
 principles were finding a practical adoption in the reforma- 
 tion of the deluded and abandoned in this community. I 
 felt stronger and better resolved than ever. We left, after 
 mutual expressions of pleasure and thankfulness for this 
 accidental visit to this work-house of Christian philanthro- 
 py and reform. 
 
 From thence we wandered along the quays, which are 
 no more than continuous walls on each side of the river, 
 for a distance oi" more than two miles. These walls are 
 
864 THE LIFFEY. 
 
 of hewn granite, very solidly and handsomely built, serving 
 both for the protection of the streets which front the river, on 
 both sides, and for wharves on which to discharge goods from 
 the vessels lying beside them. Above the bridges, little use is 
 made of them for the latter purpose, the river being too 
 shallow to admit of boating at low water. The Liffey, I 
 should remark, would be reputed a small affair in our coun 
 try. It is not so large as the Charles river at Boston, the 
 Blackstone at Providence, or the Mohawk w^here it enters 
 the Hudson. 
 
 We noticed a large number of coal boats, schooners, 
 and small brigs lying along the south quay, with their 
 bows to the shore, like a row of steamboats at St. Louis, 
 from which the coals in sacks are discharged on the backs 
 of laborers, over narrow gang-planks arranged along the 
 side of the bow-sprits. Hard looking fellows are those 
 engaged in this service. 
 
 Nearly every thing in this country seems to be done at 
 the greatest disadvantage. Perhaps it is well it is so, for, 
 by this means, employment is given to many who might 
 otherwise be idle ; but the consequent high price of every 
 thing on which such needless labor is employed is a draw- 
 back upon the economy of such a procedure. In our coun- 
 try a horse and a boy would do the labor of half a dozen 
 men engaged in this business. These sacks, holding, per- 
 haps, two bushels, were arranged along the quay, with men 
 about them waiting to make sales to such customers as 
 might come along. 
 
 We saw no docks, except one at the Custom-house, and 
 a small one at the outlet of the Grand canal. There is not 
 a large amount of shipping in port, beyond the small vessels 
 engaged in the coasting trade, mostly in the coal business. 
 On one or two ships we noticed the stars and stripes float- 
 ing proudly, and they looked better to us than we ever saw 
 them before. We counted twelve steamers, black, dirty 
 things, which form regular lines to England, Scotland, and 
 different ports in this country. We went on board of one 
 
THE CUSTOM-HOUSE. 365 
 
 of the largest, and surveyed the different parts of it. At 
 home we should hardly think it fit for a tow-boat for emi- 
 grants. The main cabin was tolerable — expensive enough ; 
 but lacking the neat and airy appearance of our boats. Be- 
 yond this, no respect seemed to be paid to the convenience 
 of passengers. 
 
 The streets, public buildings, private houses, and sub- 
 stantial bridges along the Liffey, are objects of great attrac- 
 tion, and much of to-day has been spent in viewing them. 
 We crossed the river over the Carlisle Bridge to see the 
 Custom-House, the elegant front of which we had seen 
 while coming down Westmoreland street. This is the first 
 bridge over the Liffey, up to which the smaller vessels can 
 sail. The view from it is exceedingly grand. The bay, the 
 shipping, the river, crossed by seven or eight bridges, over 
 which teams and pedestrians were constantly passing and re- 
 passing, the long lines of stately buildings, on either side of 
 the river, the famous Sackville street with the general post- 
 office, and other splendid buildings, hotels and shops, and 
 the monument of Lord Nelson in the center, with a gen- 
 eral view of the city rising on both sides. I never looked 
 on a city prospect more varied and attractive. The 
 bridge itself is built of hewn stone, on three arches, and 
 is over two hundred feet long and forty wide. 
 
 We loitered about the Custom-House some time, observ- 
 ing the building and the mode of doing business. We were 
 most taken with the ornaments which decorate it, some 
 of which appeared to be strangel)^ out of place. For ex- 
 ample, on the south front, over the pillars of the portico, 
 there are statues of Neptune, Mercury, Plenty and Industry. 
 What, in the name of humanity, thought I, has Plenty to 
 do with her cornucopia here ? It should be t'other end up, 
 at any rate, while the multitudes of the people are famish- 
 ing with hunger. And Mrs. Industry seems to find few 
 worshippers in this land of general idleness. As for Messrs. 
 Neptune and Mercury, they find little to do here, unless it 
 be to carry away. They bring no messages of good from 
 
 31* 
 
366 THE POST-OFFICE. 
 
 the gods, (lords) Jove or Juno, (John or Victoria,) Mars or 
 Pluto — Thor and Hungr. And then the device on the pedi- 
 ment, in alto relievo, representing the union of England 
 and Ireland, by Neptune driving away Famine and despair, 
 should be changed by making Neptune lead the fleet to sus- 
 tain famine, oppression, and despair, while the latter should 
 take the place now occupied by Hope, on the top of the 
 dome, the flukes of whose anchor have no longer a hold in 
 Irish hearts. 
 
 The Post- Office is an elegant and massive building, front- 
 ing over two hundred feet on Sackville street, which is 
 here a dozen rods wide. The front portico is eighty feet 
 wide, with six coarse fluted Ionic columns, the whole sur- 
 mounted by a rich entablature. Here, too, a false represen- 
 tation is made ; Hibernia is seen in the centre, leaning on 
 her spear, and holding a shield — the former should be broken, 
 the latter thrown under her feet. On the right is Mercury, 
 with his caduceus and purse — the purse should be empty; 
 the serpents on the wand are well enough. On the left is 
 Fidelity with her finger to her lips, and a key in her hand — 
 it should be Mercury touching her lips with his wand, for it 
 is British traffic which keeps Ireland silent, though ever 
 faithful. 
 
 Nearly in front of the Post-Office is Nelson's Pillar, a 
 single Doric column, over one hundred feet high, with a 
 statue of the celebrated naval commander on the top, lean- 
 ing against the capstan of a ship. A winding stairway 
 goes up the interior, by which the curious ascend to take a 
 view of the city. 
 
 There are numerous elegant buildings in this part of the 
 city which exhibit taste, good judgment, and abundant 
 means ; but none of them are of modern construction. 
 They tell of better days ; days that are past, it is feared, 
 never to return. 
 
 After strolling off* to the north-east or upper part of the 
 city, and taking a look at the elegant churches, residences, 
 and respectable streets in that part, we returned and 
 
ELEGANT BRIDGES. 367 
 
 finished our examination of the bridges. Two of the 
 most elegant are the Richmond and Whitworth, connected 
 by a handsome iron balustrade, running along the quay- 
 wall, from one to the other, seven or eight hundred feet, in 
 front of the Four Courts. The former has three arches, 
 the key-stones of which are ornamented with the heads of 
 Peace, Hibernia, and Commerce, on one side, and Plenty, 
 LifTey, and Industry, on the other. The latter is also a 
 handsome structure, on the site of the oldest bridge over 
 the Liffey. Above these are Queen's, King's, Barrack, and 
 Sarah bridges, and below, the Essex, Metal, and Carlisle. 
 These are all substantial and elegant works, connecting 
 both parts of the city, which are nearly equal. The Me- 
 tal and King's bridges are of iron, forming single ellipti- 
 cal arches, of about one hundred feet span. The Sarah 
 bridge, called, also, the Irish Rialto, after the celebrated 
 bridge of Venice, it being somewhat wider, consists, also, 
 of a single arch, of one hundred and four feet, the key- 
 stone of which is thirty feet above the bed of the river. 
 
 On the north side, not far from the Wellington monu- 
 ment, is the military hospital, a splendid pile of buildings, 
 situated on a high terrace, with a spacious court opening 
 towards the river. Companies of soldiers, in health, are 
 quartered here to help protect the diseased city from a col- 
 lapse. There is no room for them in any of the barracks. 
 All are crowded to their utmost capacity. 
 
 In the heart of the city, are the Four Courts, one of the 
 grandest structures we have yet seen. It fronts on the 
 river four hundred and sixty feet, standing back from the 
 wide street which passes between it and the quay. It 
 consists of a main building, with wings extending on 
 each side, from the rear, and coming out to the front line 
 of tbe center, leaving open squares, which are shielded 
 from the street by screens of rustic masonry, surmounted 
 by stone balustrades. Over the entrance gate to the east 
 square, is the Harp of Ireland, attended by statues of 
 Justice, Security, and Law, on a shield resting on law- 
 
368 THE FOUR COURTS. 
 
 books, bound together by a serpent. Over the west is the 
 shield of Royalty, wreathed in oak leaves. The wings 
 contain the offices of the different courts. The center 
 building contains the rooms of the fo^r courts — "Queen's 
 Bench,'' " Common Pleas," " Exchequer," and " Chancery," 
 all civil courts. The criminal court is in an other part of 
 the city. In the center of the main building there is a 
 circle, over fifty feet in diameter, from the side of which, 
 at right angles, radiate the Four Courts, towards the cor- 
 ners of the building. The entrance to each court-room is 
 between double rows of Corinthian columns, twenty-five 
 feet high, fluted in the lower third. The rooms, we were 
 told, were of equal size, and handsomely furnished. The 
 keeper was not permitted to open them to us. Between 
 the courts are offices for the jurors, judges, master of the 
 rolls, and so forth, the entrances to which are by the passages 
 leading into the circular hall from the four sides of the 
 building. The spaces between these passage-ways and the 
 pillared entrances to the court rooms, are ornamented with 
 sunken pannels and niches. Above all is a rich entabla- 
 ture, extending entirely round, from which arises a dome, 
 open at the top, the ceiling of which represents mosaics. 
 Through the aperture in the dome, is seen a superior dome, 
 in the lantern which crowns the summit of the edifice, like 
 the dome of the Exchange, in Wall-street. In rooms 
 around this dome, are kept certain records of the court 
 of Queen's Bench, the keeper informed us, which are 
 drawn up through the aperture in the dome, by means of 
 pullies provided for that purpose. The front of the main 
 building presents a handsome portico, of six Corinthian co- 
 lumns, with pilasters, on which rests a heavy pediment, 
 upon the apex of which is a statue of Moses, with Justice 
 on one side, and Mercy on the other, and, on the extremes. 
 Wisdom and Authority. — The latter should be removed to 
 the center, and all the rest taken down, for what have Jus- 
 tice, and Mercy, and Wisdom to do in Ireland, now ? Mo- 
 ses might be retained with his law of " blood for blood, an 
 
 " 
 
 I 
 
PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 369 
 
 eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth." Behind this pile 
 is a range of buildings more modern, for the accommoda- 
 tion of lawyers, consulting-rooms, eating-rooms, a bank- 
 ruptcy court — accommodation for the outside business of 
 litigation. On the whole, this structure has pleased me 
 most of any thing I ever saw of the kind. 
 
 Adjoining the Four Courts is St. Paul's church, a hand- 
 some modern building, with a front of hewn granite, the 
 portico of the Ionic order, and surmounted with a chaste 
 bell-tower and cupola. 
 
 Crossing the Essex bridge, which is said to be an exact 
 copy of Westminster bridge, London, we took a hasty look 
 at the old Parliament House, now the Bank of Ireland. It is, 
 as a specimen of architectural design, superior to the Cus- 
 tom House or Four Courts, and said to be inferior to 
 nothing of the kind in Europe. Its center fronts on Col- 
 lege Green ; the east front on College-street ; the west, on 
 Foster Place, The central front is formed, on three sides, 
 of a colonnade of Ionic columns, resting on flights of 
 steps ascending from the court-yard, separated from the 
 street by a screen- wall. The colonnade is entered at each 
 end, through handsome archways. Over the center co- 
 lumns is raised an elegant pediment, ornamented with the 
 royal arms, and a statue of Hibernia on the apex, with Fi- 
 delity on one side, and Commerce on the other. The east 
 front has a splendid portico of Corinthian columns, which 
 sustain a pediment surmounted with a statue of Fortitude, 
 in the center. Justice on the right, and Liberty (!) on the 
 left. The west front has a portico of Ionic columns, 
 crowned with a plain pediment. Connected with this 
 iront by a splendid archway, is a guard-room, for the ac- 
 commodation of the soldiers stationed here to protect the 
 treasures of the bank. We noticed sentinels on duty at 
 the entrances to the building. Money, monarchs, and mili- 
 tary stores require body-guards to keep them secure. . 
 
 The buildings of Trinity College I can not begin to de- 
 scribe. They are of great extent and elegance, forming 
 
370 TRINITY COLLEGE. 
 
 one of the chief architectural attractions of this fine old 
 city. We did no more than get a gUmpse of the interior 
 arrangements, a large portion being, at present, occupied as 
 a barrack for the soldiers assembled here to suppress the 
 rebellious spirit of the people, and maintain "law and or- 
 der ;" the like of which was witnessed, not many years ago, 
 in one of our New England Universities, and for a similar 
 purpose. 1 felt my hot blood so stirred at the sight of such 
 a base prostitution of a literary and scientific establishment, 
 that I took no interest in looking about it. We could go 
 no where without meeting a guard of soldiers, but they 
 seem so strangely out of place in this venerable seat of 
 learning that I preferred to look at them in the castle, where 
 they more properly belong, and leave the nobler means of 
 education to be viewed in other and more peaceful times. 
 Tyranny will resort to any means to sustain its ends, andj 
 when its very existence is threatened, it often receives tri- 
 bute and honor where least expected. In the name of 
 " law and order" what damnable deeds have been commit- 
 ted with impunity, against which no voice is permitted to 
 raise a complaint but at a fearful peril ! Even the stars 
 and stripes have floated over such iniquity, and the eagle 
 of boasted liberty spread her wings and oped her beak to 
 crush the will of the majority expressed peaceably, distinct- 
 ly, directly, and in the only way allowed it ; and learned 
 men, and clergymen have lent the sanction of their names, 
 the music of their voices, the persuasions of their pens, and 
 the halls of learning entrusted to their keeping, to help 
 crush, by military force, the majority w^hen peaceably strug- 
 gling for their rights, for the success of whose cause some 
 of them had previously loaned their public prayers ! 
 
 What makes such an act more disgraceful in our country 
 is, that it is voluntary, while here the minions of royalty 
 give command, and none dare refuse obedience. With us 
 it is boasted that the will of the people is supreme ; that 
 the practical working of republicanism is to secure indivi- 
 dual liberty and right; that government derives its "just 
 
REVOLUTION BETTER THAN OPPRESSION. 371 
 
 powers from the consent of the governed'' and that " it is 
 the right of the jyeoiile to alter or abolish it." But " law 
 and order" has a charm which conservatism and aristocracy 
 reverence, even in defiance of right, and humanity, and the 
 plainest demands of common justice. Republicans, as well 
 as despots, can terrify, and threaten, and control, by the 
 awful horrors which would follow the invasion of the sacred 
 precincts of " law and order ;" forgetting that governments 
 are yet imperfect, and that the love of power sometimes 
 precludes the possibility of obtaining redress for the wrongs 
 under which the masses still suffer. It is certainly much 
 the best, for reforms to be effected without revolution ; but 
 revolution is better than oppression ; and there are cases 
 where the multitude knock in vain at the door of justice, 
 especially when in the keeping of the precious /ei« who are 
 foolish enough to think themselves divinely appointed to 
 rule their fellow-men. 
 
 The necessity which compels a long injured people to 
 stand up in defence of their natural rights, and battle for 
 the elementary principles of civil liberty, is always to be 
 deplored ; but when such cases do exist, we count it noble, 
 heroic, glorious, for a whole community to arise in their 
 strength, united and determined, in God's name, declaring 
 the true, maintaining the right, and defending the good, 
 against the usurpations of the individual or the coterie, who 
 have abused their privilege and oppressed their subjects. 
 Subjects ! What a ^erm of reproach when applied to the 
 lords of this lower world ! The ruler is the servant of the 
 ruled. Jesus washed his disciples' feet ! It is shame to that 
 coward heart which does not sympathize with the move- 
 ment of the masses to redress their wrongs, throw off their 
 fetters and repel the aggressions of the tyrant few, who 
 have so long lorded it over God's heritage. Their souls are 
 withered into the limits of the narrowest selfishness, or else 
 they are so bedazzled with the pride and glory of earth, 
 that they have forgotten that there is a Supreme Governor 
 
372 ABUSE OF LEARNING. 
 
 before whom they are as nothing, and to whom they are 
 under a fearful responsibility, which they can not escape ! 
 But it has long been so, that the masses have been hewers 
 of wood and drawers of water, for a self-created nobility, 
 which has borne rule over them with an iron hand ; and it 
 will, doubtless, long continue to do so; certainly, until the 
 people come to know their rights and how to defend them. 
 It is a sorry reflection that many who become enlightened 
 do not retain their sympathies for those in whose society 
 they once mingled on equal terms. But the world's allure- 
 ments too often blind their eyes and steel their hearts, to the 
 nobler sentiments of a living humanity, and they soon flatter 
 themselves that it is their right, alaiost a duty, to guard the 
 people from the assertion of their liberty and defence of 
 their rights — to hold them yet awhile longer in a bondage 
 the most servile and degrading. Even here the famous old 
 Trinity is turned into a military barrack, for the comfort 
 of soldiers sent here to help manacle still closer this turbu- 
 lent and long oppressed people. Strange that this college, 
 with its vast resources of men and learning, has not advo- 
 cated a right spirit and sent out pure and healthful streams 
 to allay the turbulence complained of, and remove the 
 oppressions which cause all the mischief which so annoys 
 the government Why it has not, becomes plain when we 
 know that learning is made the handmaid of royalty, and 
 confined mainly to the sons of the nobility and gentry. 
 There is much aristocracy in learning. The sword, the 
 purse, and the college form a trinity here. Selfishness may 
 turn the highest attributes to a base account. The people 
 must be taught — general knowledge must be scattered 
 among them, and a feeling of equality and self-respect be 
 possessed by all, before any thing like true liberty can exist. 
 If half the means bestowed upon this old college, these mili- 
 tary establishments, and these work-house unions, had 
 been devoted to the education of the poeple, Ireland would 
 this day be a rich, powerful, and happy nation, the right 
 arm of the British throne, loyal in all her attachments 
 
CARMELITE CHURCH. 373 
 
 to a good government. But abused, oppressed, and ig- 
 norant, how can she be different from what she is ? 
 
 Near our abiding-place is a friary, and Carmelite church. 
 Seeing the door of the latter open we went in. It is a plain 
 building, appropriately fitted up with pictures and statues, 
 for that form of worship. Two or three were kneeling in- 
 side, muttering their prayers, and counting their beads. By 
 the door a notice was posted up, requiring, by authority, 
 certain observances in the forms of the church. On leav- 
 ing, we were met in the vestibule by the priest, Father 
 Tobin, a portly, well-formed, full-fed Irishman, with a long 
 frock-coat and broad-brimmed hat. He spoke to us, and we 
 soon entered into a free conversation, upon the condition 
 of his country and ours. During the conversation several 
 poor wretches approached us to beg. He ordered them off 
 as unfeelingly as if they had been brutes. Some little girls 
 came along whom he drove away with words of authority. 
 A drunken man staggered by, to whom he gave some harsh 
 words, calling him by name. Two women passed of lewd 
 demeanor. To them he spoke rebuking words, the force 
 of which they seemed t^ feel. All these, except the last, did 
 reverence to the father, as they passed, bowing or courtesy- 
 ing; the drunken man did not succeed very -well with his bow, 
 his head apparently being too heavy for his general strength. 
 The priest kept on his conversation, barely suspending a 
 sentence to give his admonitions, and proceeding as if no- 
 thing had occurred. The last two, however, were rather 
 too much for his equanimity, and he asked us to step into 
 a small room on the right of the arched entrance. 
 
 Here we had a long conversation, or rather argument, 
 for it assumed that form, mainly on the propriety of educat- 
 ing the common people. He contended that it was dan- 
 gerous to give them knowledge, unless under the restraining 
 influence of the true church. I assured him that I thought his 
 people had been under such restraining influence quite too 
 long, that it was time to give a larger liberty for the mind 
 
 32 
 
374 DISCUSSION WITH A PRIEST. 
 
 to expand and develop its powers, and that no permanent 
 good could be expected for this country till such a revolu- 
 tion in the moral sentiment had been effected. This 
 aroused him to a boisterous harangue on the wickedness of 
 introducing the Bible into public schools, or teaching chil- 
 dren to read it as a part of their education. My friend, 
 who had been a trustee in our public schools at home, took 
 up this branch of the argument, contending for the proprie- 
 ty and importance of such a course. 
 
 The good father became exceedingly warm in the de- 
 bate, and took much larger, and more frequent pinches of 
 snuff than before, but politely offering to his opponent his 
 box, every time. The debate was, to me, more amusing 
 than instructive, though I learned something of the haughty 
 and dictatorial manner which this class of men exhibit, oc- 
 casioned by the method of their training, and their habits 
 of life. He seemed to be greatly disturbed that my friend 
 dared to question his positions, or refused to assent to his 
 conclusions. He exacted unreserved assent to the oracular 
 correctness of his assertions, where there was manifestly an 
 honest difference of opinion. This my friend would not 
 yield, informing him that the free^pm of our country had 
 allowed him, as well as every other, to think for himself, 
 and that he had formed his opinions from observation and 
 study ; and, till convinced of their incorrectness, no as- 
 sumption of authority could make him renounce or deny 
 them. The father was much nettled at this sturdy inde- 
 pendence, and waxed warm in the wordy fight. I tried 
 many times to change the topic, before I could succeed, by 
 inquiring about the prospect of things in reference to the 
 present movements. Upon these he refused an opinion, 
 asserting that it was the business of the Church to " sub- 
 mit to the powers that be ;" but hinting that he thought 
 the Protestant leaders had usurped too much influence in 
 the present commotions, and that, therefore, the Catholics 
 would probably abandon them." With an expression of 
 thanks on our part for his attentions, and an invitation to 
 
 »H 
 
THE CASTLE. 375 
 
 call on us, in our country, and taste the sweets of a larger 
 liberty, we parted, with his benediction and prayers for a 
 prosperous journey and a safe return. 
 
 Proceeding on our way, we took a look at several church- 
 es of different orders. I use the word church, not as here, 
 to specify those used by the Estabhshed Church, but includ- 
 ing all houses of Christian worship. Some of them are 
 very stately and elegant, and make a handsome show, and 
 contrast badly with the miserable habitations about them. 
 I need not specify their names. All these cathedrals, 
 churches, chapels, and meeting-houses present a full share 
 of architectural taste, and a liberal outlay of money for the 
 support of religion. 
 
 Returning, we passed the Corn Exchange, which we had 
 looked into in the morning. It is a spacious building, of 
 granite, designed for merchants, and arranged for the con- 
 venient exhibition of samples of grain. It makes a hand- 
 some appearance, inside and out. We noticed several 
 other public buildings, the character of which we did not 
 learn. 
 
 Just at nightfall, we took a turn through the Castle, the 
 winter residence of the Lord Lieutenant, a sort of military 
 palace, on a grand scale. It is situated in the midst of the 
 city, on high ground, and presents a gruff and formidable 
 appearance. This blending of civil and military power I 
 never much admired, but, as a student of things, must sub- 
 mit to much that I can not approve ; and I plucked up 
 courage to take a look through the accessible parts of this 
 vice-regal establishment. We entered by the east gate — 
 which is guarded by a statue of Justice, and two living 
 sentinels in the employ of /7i-justice — into a quadrangular 
 court, near three hundred feet long, and one hundred and 
 fifty wide. This area is fronted by corresponding build- 
 ings, which present three rears, of course, to the streets. 
 These fronts exhibit a rich display of architectural taste, 
 and the interiors are said to excel in elegance. On one 
 side are the apartments of the Lord Lieutenant, the rest 
 
376 A YOUNG SOLDIER. 
 
 are occupied by the officers and servants of the household. 
 The front of the chapel of the castle is ornamented with 
 heads of all the sovereigns of England. 
 
 While gazing about, a young soldier came up to us, and 
 commenced a conversation. Finding we were from Ame- 
 rica, he expressed himself very freely. He had not been 
 long in the service, and was not well pleased with it, but 
 necessity had compelled him to adopt this course to obtain 
 a living. He asked us what we had heard of Mitchell's 
 trial, and what was the prospect of acquittal. We told 
 him we had heard nothing in particular, only there was 
 much excitement in the streets. He said he hoped he 
 would get clear, for he believed him an honest man, and 
 a true lover of his country. We proceeded gradually, and 
 finally asked him what he should do if there should be a 
 rising of the people. He said, after some hesitation, he sup- 
 posed he must fight. I did not press the inquiry further, 
 for I saw, by his appearance, what his answers would be ; 
 that his heart was for his country, which he loved, and, 
 though compelled to it, he would reluctantly contend with 
 his countrymen, and, therefore, the expression of an ear- 
 nest hope that there would be no serious disturbance. He 
 said the whole garrison was kept constantly in readiness 
 for any emergency ; that every part of the castle was 
 crowded with soldiers, and hundreds were quartered in 
 private dwellings. Observing some one who appeared to 
 be listening to our conversation, he bowed and left us. 
 
 We departed by the gate opposite to the one we entered, 
 and passed along under the high wall of the south front, 
 where we met several soldiers, and saw a curious 
 kind of movable breastwork, designed to barricade the 
 streets. The houses in this neighborhood are filled with 
 soldiers, up to the windows of the fourth and fifth stories ; 
 and many, not very respectable looking women are loiter- 
 ing about them. Oh, the wickedness of armies I how man- 
 ifold are their curses ! how blighting their influence upon 
 virtuous principle, and social happiness ! We were glad to 
 
CHURCH OF ST. AUDOEN. 377 
 
 escape from the atmosphere of pollution, ashamed of our- 
 selves for having seen the proof of such terrible degrada- 
 tion. 
 
 Just at dark, we wandered into the large, unfinished 
 church of Saint Audoen — a saint of whom I had never heard 
 before ; but, as every church must be called after a patron 
 saint, whether Catholic or Episcopal, the old calendar has 
 been exhausted. Some, for fear they shall not get the right 
 saint to preside over them, call their churches " All 
 Saints." The church was crowded full, to hear a dis- 
 course from an Italian priest, who spoke the English indif- 
 ferently. The staging was still standing. The room was 
 very dimly lighted. Men and women were huddled to- 
 gether, some standing; some kneeling; some praying; some 
 talking ; some laughing ; some coming in ; some going 
 out — all in most glorious confusion. There was nothing 
 of the order, attention, and propriety we are accustomed 
 to see in places of worship. The great proportion were, 
 in appearance, people just come from their work, without 
 washing their faces, or changing their apparel. The wo- 
 men, generally, were without hats, with white, ruffled, cam- 
 bric caps on their heads. Men had on clogs, or heavy 
 shoes, and corduroy breeches. Nearer the altar, there was a 
 class of people better dressed, and giving better attention 
 to the services. 
 
 On leaving the church we received a copious shower of 
 the holy water which was spattered promiscuously over the 
 multitude, enough, my friend thought, to last us some time. 
 In addition to the regularly appointed beggars who were 
 busy with their boxes collecting pennies, and scolding and 
 fretting about the meanness of the collection, there was a 
 host of volunteers in the shape of decrepid men, haggard 
 old women, and ragged children, who followed us into the 
 street with their blessings and their prayers, holding out 
 their hands for us to give. 
 
 All about the street were gathered crowds of men and 
 women, many of whom we overheard discussing the sub- 
 
 32* 
 
378 POPULAR AGITATION. 
 
 ject of Mitchel's trial. In one company we heard a man 
 and a woman sing a very pathetic song ; in an other, one was 
 singing a comic song, in which the boys and girls seemed to 
 take great delight. All these were closely watched by the 
 policemen, who were listening to all the discussions where 
 half a dozen were together. Every now and then a 
 mounted policeman went dashing through the crowd, and 
 here and there were seen platoons of soldiers patrolhng the 
 streets, apparently to overawe the people. Wherever a 
 large crowd was gathered, or any thing like excited conver- 
 sation, two or three policemen w^ould come up and order 
 them to disperse, which was generally obeyed, but not al- 
 ways with the best grace imaginable. Some would grate 
 their teeth and mutter vengeance ; others would turn upon 
 them a repartee, and excite a laugh against them ; but every 
 where it was manifest that the bitterest hatred was stifled 
 only by the dread of power. In short, the city presents the 
 appearance of one just conquered and placed under military 
 governors. The spirit of dissatisfaction will, every where, 
 find means of expression, and many were the taunts and 
 jeers cast upon the minions of power. It was a rich field 
 for the display of Irish wit, and I laughed outright more 
 than once at the quaint and pointed expressions of defiance 
 and derision heaped upon the straight-coated policemen, 
 by the burly fellows who managed to keep out of their 
 clutches. 
 
 But notwithstanding this occasional exhibition of a light 
 and careless feeling, there was a deep and solemn anxiety 
 every where to be seen depicted on every countenance. 
 Every body seemed to be in trouble ; not less the friends 
 than the foes of the government. The former felt that it 
 was a critical moment, when the least movement might 
 prove fatal to the peace of the city and the lives of thou- 
 sands. The latter hoped against hope, that the trial of the 
 distinguished advocate of their cause would terminate 
 favorably, and they be permitted to hail his deliverance 
 from thraldom, by a grand display of triumph over their 
 
A RESTLESS NIGHT. 379 
 
 adversaries. Few of them meditated a formal rebellion 
 against the government, in their unprepared state, for all 
 know that such an attempt would be futile. But they re- 
 member the words of their former leader, who said " Agi- 
 tate, Agitate," and they hope, by agitations, to force Eng- 
 land to remov^e some of the disabilities which have im- 
 poverished their country and, they think, brought all their 
 miseries upon them. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A Restless Night. — Domestic Affairs. — Trial of John Mitchel. — Gain Ad- 
 mission. — The Court-room. — The Court. — The Bar. — The Jury. — The 
 Prisoner. — The Audience. — Mr. Holmes. — His Defence. — The Effect. — 
 The Crowd. — The Excitement. — The Military. — Rashness of the Reform- 
 ers. — Ireland Unfitted for a Republic. — Paymg the Catholic Clergy .-r-Irish 
 Character. — A forcible Repeal impossible. — Origin and Exercise of Power. 
 
 At a late hour last night, we retired to our room, great- 
 ly " exercised" in body and mind. The sights we had seen 
 affected one, and the bacon and green cabbage we had eaten, 
 the other — the latter, though a rarity much praised here, 
 was a little too much for my Jewish stomach. A little too 
 much of the canine and graminiverous for a dyspeptic ! 
 All night I suffered indescribable tortures. When I slept, I 
 dreamed of rebellions, dungeon -walls, and indiscriminate 
 slaughter ; of trials for heresies, with racks, gibbets, and all 
 imaginable tortures ; the heaving and rolling of the sea, fol- 
 lowed by the most intolerable sickness. Then up I would 
 start, sick in reality, for my stomach was in open rebellion 
 against the oppressions imposed upon it, and a terrible com- 
 motion and outhresik followed, which no force, physical or 
 moral, could quiet, without the removal of the evils com- 
 plained of This morning, I feel a consequent debility ; but 
 a little fasting for the body, while there is so much to 
 excite the mind, will, I trust, restore mv wonted health, and 
 
380 DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS. 
 
 all go on in harmony. We have a long day before us ; so, 
 while my friend has been taking his walk and breakfast, I 
 have sketched up m}^ notes, and have time to remark a 
 word upon the domestic arrangement of the respectable 
 boarding-house in which we are stopping. 
 
 The houses in this city look old and dingy, dark and lone- 
 some. They are generally built of bricks, much larger than 
 ours, and of a yellowish brown color, resembling our fire 
 bricks, or those of which houses are constructed in Mil- 
 waukie. They are large and high, sometimes five and six 
 stories. The windows have no blinds, and hence look naked. 
 A portion of the houses are of stone, but those look less 
 cheerful than the others. The inside is finished in a plain 
 old fashioned style, with little respect to taste or convenience. 
 The floors are not generally carpeted, and from age look 
 old and dirty ; the fault is in the boards, which turn to a 
 dark, dingy color, which can not be prevented. The rooms 
 are papered. The paper is hung against the sides, being 
 pasted upon coarse canvas, fastened at the top and bottom, 
 — thus came the name ^^\iQV-liangings. The more modern, 
 as with us, have the paper pasted to the wall. The ceiling 
 is smoky and rough. The furniture corresponds with the 
 style of the houses, generally old, heavy, and substantial. 
 The beds are furnished with linen, clean, but not so white 
 as we see at home. Straw palliasters, with heavy feather 
 beds, which never saw a Yankee renovator. Most of them 
 are furnished with high posts, and enclosed with well-worn 
 chintz of the olden style. Every thing bears the marks of 
 age and wear, and not that thorough respect to neatness 
 with which we are familiar in hotels and boarding houses. 
 I speak now not only of this house, which is above the mid- 
 dling class, situated in a good street and well accredited for 
 the manner in which it is kept, but also of those which we 
 have seen in other places. 
 
 Some idea can be formed of an Irish breakfast, from the 
 following description given by my friend, who has just come 
 up from the table. " There were some half dozen large loaves 
 
 Ji 
 
mitchel's trial. 381 
 
 of bread, and as many small ones, placed on the table, with- 
 out plates under them ; some half-dozen plates, each contain- 
 ing four or five pieces of butter as large as a dollar ; each 
 person cut a slice from the loaf, and helped himself to but- 
 ter with his own knife, and was permitted to choose either a 
 little piece of cold meat or two boiled eggs, with two cups 
 of black tea, and a small allowance of milk, and sugar to the 
 liking." Of the veracity of this description I have no 
 doubt, for it comports with every breakfast we have had, 
 except we have not often seen meat. It is not common to 
 spread a cloth upon the table. 
 
 We took a stroll through the old part of the city, amid 
 scenes of filth and misery equal to any thing we have seen 
 — through the grounds of one of the many large hospitals, 
 to the station, to meet our friend who left us at Mount 
 Shannon ; thence, through the north portion of the city, to 
 the railway station, in that section, the basin of the Royal 
 canal, Queen's Inns, and several other places. This por- 
 tion of the city is more modern and handsome than that 
 on the south of the LifFey. Several streets are wide 
 and neat, and the houses large and elegant. We noticed, 
 particularly, the churches, as being specimens of tasteful 
 elegance. In fact, few cities can excel Dublin, in the 
 beauty of its location, or the number and splendor of its 
 public buildings. 
 
 The object of to-day was, to attend the trial of Mr. 
 Mitchel, arraigned for sedition. With much difficulty, we 
 pressed through the crowd, to the court-house in Green- 
 street. Directly in front, an area of several rods was kept 
 clear by chains, and rows of policemen, stretched across 
 the street, who brandished their batons over the heads of 
 the crowd in a very careless manner. Fifteen or twenty 
 mounted policemen, with swords by their sides, occupied 
 the open space. Once or twice we were ordered to leave, 
 as we stood looking on. Seeing some others cross to the 
 court-house, we followed, no one opposing us. Those who 
 would succeed, must always persevere. Several police- 
 
382 THE COURT-ROOM. 
 
 men were guarding the door. We asked admission, but 
 were refused. We whispered in the ear of one that we 
 were Americans, hoping to make up in national, what we 
 lacked in personal ability. We were referred to the she- 
 riff, to whom we sent a note, saying that three American 
 travelers, happening in the city, desired to attend the 
 trial then going on. In a few moments a permit was re- 
 turned, by which we gained admission to the court-room, 
 being handed from one officer to another, till we were seatn 
 ed in the gallery. 
 
 The court-room was crowded, in every part, with men 
 and women, army and naval officers, with a large sprink- 
 hng of bailiffs and policemen placed among the audience, 
 so as to overhear the least expression of sympathy for the 
 prisoner, and suppress the first movement in his favor 
 The passage-ways and doors were fortified with a strong 
 guard, and the whole scene presented the appearance of a 
 court-martial. 
 
 In the bench, elevated a few steps above the lower floor, 
 w&re seated two men, dressed in what seemed to me a ra- 
 ther fantastic style. The one on the right was Baron Le- 
 froy, the chief judge. He wore a gray wig, and a red cas- 
 sock, trimmed with ermine, looking some like an old monk; 
 except his features were less complacent, bearing the marks 
 of a stern and revengeful temper, and a cold, unfeeling 
 heart, every way indicative of the qualities necessary to 
 execute the law of tyrants for political offences. The 
 other was Judge Moore, whose smoother countenance im- 
 pressed me more favorably, as if some drops of the milk 
 of human kindness still flowed in his veins. Immediately 
 before the bench, were arrayed the counsellors of the 
 crown, and those for the prisoner. They were dressed in 
 t\ long, black, flowing cassocks, with white bands at the neck, 
 like certain priests, with long, curly wigs, thoroughly pow- 
 dered. I noticed some young barristers in the crowd of 
 lawvcrs about the bar, all dressed in the same way, whose 
 appearance was laughably ridiculous. They forcibly re- 
 
MR. JOHN MiTCHEL. 383 
 
 minded me, as they moved about, of young peacocks, 
 learning to spread their tail-feathers for the admiration of 
 themselves — perhaps of others. Our republican eyes are 
 unused to such designations of place and rank. A portion 
 of the pulpit retains the aristocratic practice, but the bar 
 does not. In some of our upper courts, there is left a little 
 mock imitation, by the judges wearing the black cassock, 
 but omitting the ermine and the wig. Except in the mar- 
 tial, penitentiary, and murders on the scaffold, little respect 
 is paid to the outward emblems of authority or rank. 
 
 The jury of twelve men, respectable in appearance, were 
 sitting in the box. Opposite to them were several ladies, 
 whose appearance indicated that they were " of rank," 
 who seemed to take a very lively interest in the proceed- 
 ings. In the dock, was the principal object of attention — 
 Mr. John Mitchel. He was sitting calmly, with his arms 
 folded on his breast, as if trying to look cheerful and indif- 
 ferent. My first glance at him showed that this was un- 
 real ; that, deeper in his soul, there was a bitter agony, 
 which could not be suppressed — a feeling which involunta- 
 rily rebelled against the mockery of law, when the sacred 
 precincts of justice and liberty are invaded. He is a man 
 under middle age, perhaps thirty-five, of medium stature, 
 spare in flesh, of a nervous temperament, with an intel- 
 lectual forehead, and a general phrenological development 
 indicative of an excellent moral character — not common 
 with ''felons." His countenance was rather pale, and, I 
 should judge, his health not generally good. Near him — 
 outside the dock, a lady was pointed out as his wife, whose 
 genteel and modest appearance, and deep interest in what 
 was said and done, showed her to be possessed of the deep- 
 est sensibilities, and keenly alive to the fate of her husband. 
 Mr. Meagher was also present, and constant in his atten- 
 tions to Mr. Mitchel. 
 
 In the grand-jury box, was a retinue of reporters for the 
 press, and others, who seemed to take a deep interest in the 
 progress of the trial. It was easy to see that a deep anxi- 
 
384 NO PROSPECT OF ACaUITTAL. 
 
 ety pervaded the whole assembly ; for, though every thing 
 was kept quiet, the least remark of favor or disfavor in the 
 progress of the trial, operated, like an electric shock, on all 
 at once. 
 
 The preliminary steps had been taken yesterday, nearly 
 the whole day having been consumed in empanneling a jury 
 on which the government could rely for a conviction. A 
 good deal of chicanery, it was alleged, had been used in 
 packing a jury to carry out the will of government. Every 
 Catholic and friend of repeal had been studiously rejected 
 from the pannel, and those only admitted who were known 
 to be opposed to the prisoner. All was now ready for the 
 form of a trial, the result of which was clearly foreseen 
 by all who understood the manceuvrings of the govern- 
 ment officers. The friends of Mr. Mitchel, as well as his 
 enemies, had made up their minds to his conviction ; but 
 they still awaited, anxiously, the denouement of the iniqui- 
 tous drama, to see how far cool injustice would go to sus- 
 tain political tyranny and oppression, under the form of 
 law, and in the name of order. All were anxious to hear the 
 defence of Mr. Holmes, the leading counsel for the prisoner, 
 who is called the " father of the Irish bar," and admitted, on 
 all hands, to be the most learned and eloquent barrister in 
 the realm, as well as a true and fearless patriot. All eyes 
 were directed to him, and every body wished for the mo- 
 ment to arrive when he should speak. The previous pro- 
 ceedings seemed a needless and tedious delay. Law and 
 evidence were of little concern, so long as justice and equi- 
 ty were outraged by the judiciary, backed by military 
 power. All had seen the assembling of immense hordes 
 of troops, kept constantly under arms — fourteen thousand 
 being at this moment stationed in different parts of the 
 city, ready to be concentrated in twenty minutes, at a given 
 signal, to crush any demonstration that should be made in 
 favor of the prisoner. What chance was there for his 
 acquittal ? The careful observer could see none. His 
 conviction was pre-determined, and all the necessary 
 
THE INDICTMENT AND EVIDENCE. 385 
 
 measures preconcerted for that purpose. But still all felt 
 interested to hear what the ablest advocate and purest pa- 
 triot in Ireland would dare to say on such an occasion. 
 
 The court was open when we entered, and the Queen's 
 attorney was proceeding with a statement and explanation 
 of the law relating to sedition ; which was all very plain 
 and direct, having been concocted and passed a few months 
 ago to meet the case of Irish rebels who could not be con- 
 victed by any previous statute. The substance of the ac- 
 cusation was, that the prisoner had been guilty of " felo- 
 niously compassing to deprive the Queen of her style and 
 royal name, and of the imperial crown ;" that, in a speech 
 in Limerick, he had uttered seditious language, which was 
 afterwards published in a paper called the " United Irish- 
 man ;" that he had, on other occasions, written and published 
 in the same paper, similar language, especially in a " Letter 
 to Irish Protestant Farmers." He next introduced testimony 
 to sustain the indictment. Half-a-dozen policemen and 
 one or two others swore to all that was wanted to fasten 
 the charge upon him. After a few brief comments upon 
 the evidence, in relation to the law, were addressed to the 
 jury in a very mild and indifferent manner, as if he felt 
 sure of his case, and would therefore spend no unnecessary 
 breath, but could afford to appear generous and merciful to 
 the accused ; he closed, with some general remarks in- 
 tended to correct a report, already circulated, that unfair 
 and illegal steps had been taken to procure a jury that would 
 certainly bring in a verdict of guilty. No particular in- 
 terest was manifested during the progress of his speech, nor 
 at the close. He handed in his papers and rested the case 
 on the part of the crown. 
 
 A little movement was noticed among the lawyers, and 
 all attention was directed towards an old gentleman who 
 rose up slowly as if oppressed with the weight of years, as 
 well as a fearful responsibility for the fate of a fellow being. 
 A slight murmur of applause ran through the assembly, 
 which was- immediately suppressed — before half-uttered — 
 
386 STRIKING THE JURY. 
 
 by the sheriff and other officers who started to their {eet. 
 A profound silence ensued. I had no time to scan the per- 
 son of Mr. Holmes, further than to observe an old man — I 
 should think of eighty years — somewhat bent by age, but 
 still vigorous and bold, and too careless of life to be cowered 
 by authority to wear the manacles of despotism. With 
 the manner in which his first sentence was uttered, I be- 
 came so impressed, that I scarcely thought of the man af- 
 terwards. He stood before me as an image half-seen when 
 the whole attention is so intensely absorbed in the contem- 
 plation of an object beyond it, as that only the occasional 
 movement of the intermediate attracts the least notice. I 
 hardly heard the minor points of his speech. I took 
 notes, but the spirit and truth of that speech touched a 
 chord in my heart which thrilled my whole being, and when 
 it was ended, I felt as if 1 had been in a trance. It Avas 
 more than a dream ; for the eternal landmarks of liberty and 
 despotism, of justice and oppression, of the rights of the 
 many, and the claims of the few, were so distinctly defined 
 that the impression is vividly retained. It was not the 
 novelty of the truths asserted — for every American school- 
 boy is familiar with them ; but the noble, fearless, and elo- 
 quent manner in which they were advanced, that pleased 
 and overwhelmed me. 
 
 He commenced by an allusion to the important duty de- 
 volving on him as counsel for the defendant, and his sense 
 of inadequacy to discharge it. He declared the pleasure he 
 felt in being selected to defend a man whom he believed to 
 be honest, if not innocent, and whom the government might 
 fear or hate but could not despise. He submitted to the 
 statements of the attorney general, and the proofs adduced 
 without a comment, but expressed his regrets at his con- 
 cluding remarks, in which he spoke of certain instructions 
 respecting the striking of juries. This brought the State's 
 attorney to his feet, who asserted that he only spoke of in- 
 structions which he gave to the solicitor for the crown, and 
 which came not from the Lord Lieutenant. Baron Lefroy 
 
THE DEFENCE FOUNDED ')N JUSTIFICATION. 387 
 
 inteiposeil some remarks with a rather patronizing air, and 
 Mr. Holmes proceeded immediately to a point, asserting 
 that there were some things which could not be mistaken. 
 " The crown had called a jury which two honorable men, on 
 their oaths, had declared to be impartial and fair between 
 the government and his client, and yet the officers of the 
 crown had struck from that ' fair and impartial jury' thirty- 
 six men ! (A burst of feeling was here suppressed by the 
 sheriff, who cried out ' Silence.') We challenged the panel, 
 they succeeded on the oath of two men, who declared it to 
 be a fair and impartial jury, and yet strike off thirty -six 
 men, eighteen of whom are Roman Catholics !" At this re- 
 petition, in which he brought his fist upon the bar, a spon- 
 taneous burst of applause broke from every part of the 
 house. Baron Lefroy, the sheriff, and under officers shouted 
 
 silence, and in a few moments, all was calm as the house of 
 death. 
 
 Mr. Holmes proceeded to his defence, and such an other 
 masterly performance has rarely been produced, since his 
 brother-in-law, the celebrated Robert Emmet, was tried and 
 condemned for a similar offence, in that same room, into 
 which, I am told, Mr. Holmes has refused to enter, till the 
 present trials commenced. He commented somewhat at 
 length on the terms of the Union, and showed the ridicu- 
 lousness of the law which made it felony to "compass, imagine, 
 invent, desire, or intend to deprive or depose the most gra- 
 cious sovereign, the Queen, from the style, honor, and royal 
 name of the imperial crown of the United Kingdom, by 
 printing certain articles in a newspaper, which alone were 
 relied on as evidence in the case." When he came more 
 directly to the opinions of Mr. Mitchel, he said, " Many of 
 them I myself adopt." An other burst of applause followed. 
 The brow of the old Baron knit in anger. Lord Moore 
 looked anxious, and all the Bar stared as in doubt of his 
 sincerity. He proceeded to state the condition of Ireland 
 as a justification of Mr. Mitchel, and to prove his position 
 that the " course of England had been tlie cause of all 
 
388 ENGLAND THE CAUSE OF IRISH DISTURBANCE. 
 
 the disturbance which existed." He said, "Ireland is an 
 enslaved country, and I will prove it. A great mistake is 
 entertained, in my opinion, by some people, who think no 
 man is a slave unless he is in chains, or subject to the lash 
 of a tyrant. The real slavery of a people consists in this, 
 that they do not make their own laws, but that another na- 
 tion, or individuals, make them for them. I assert, boldly 
 and broadly" — 
 
 With an angry frown, and quivering voice. Baron Le- 
 froy interrupted him, by saying the Court could not per- 
 mit him to use such objectionable language. 
 
 Mr. Holmes stood calm, and heard the judge ; then bow- 
 ing politely, in the true dignity of an old man, conscious 
 of his right, he proceeded, by saying he "did not wish to 
 do what was not right, but he could not do justice to his 
 client, without doing justice to Ireland." A tremendous 
 burst of applause followed this remark, which the officers 
 could not prevent. I expected an outbreak at once, but 
 soon all was calm, when the Baron remarked that the officers 
 had got authority to arrest any person who should be guilty 
 of improper expressions of approbation, and a repetition 
 of the offence should be punished at once by imprison- 
 ment. 
 
 Mr. Holmes deprecated the applause, and proceeded with 
 liis argument, uninterrupted, till he again came to the rela- 
 tions of Ireland to England, when he said, "I openly and 
 boldly assert, as a lawyer and as a man, that the act of 
 Union is only binding on the people of Ireland, as a matter 
 of expediency," when expressions of approbation came 
 from all parts of the room. He proceeded with a power- 
 ful comment upon expediency. " It is often expedient to 
 submit, and every man ought to submit, except on strong 
 grounds ; but, when these strong grounds are afforded — 
 when the question is of right, I assert that an enslaved 
 people has the right, if driven to such a course, by neces- 
 sity, to seek, by recourse to arms, to obtain their liberties, 
 even at the fiazard of life. I sav life— What is life ? 
 
 I 
 
THE RIGHT OF REVOLUTION. 389 
 
 What is life worth to a man, without liberty — of what 
 value is the privilege to live enslaved and degraded ? What 
 man would" 
 
 The old Baron waxed warm, and, in most arrogant and 
 insulting words, called Mr. H. to order, stating that the 
 court would not sit here and hear such sentiments uttered. 
 
 Mr. Holmes proceeded as calmly as if nothing had trans- 
 pired, to say that " the prisoner alone had not that right ; 
 no individual of himself has that right — but \\\e people col- 
 lectively have that right, or such majority of the people as 
 could leave no doubt of its title." 
 
 Baron Lefroy was more violent than ever. His manner 
 was insulting to the last degree. Courts, thought 1, and 
 even governments, are often amazingly sensitive on this ques- 
 tion of abstract rights. Here is a fair sample of it. The 
 Judiciary is eminently conservative, and one of the most 
 difficult branches to model into accordance with the prin- 
 ciples of true liberty. We once had, in our country, 
 judges deeply imbued with the principles of the " perfect 
 law of liberty ;" but, as the spirit of '76 becomes filtered 
 through the veins of a growing aristocracy, the doctrine of 
 hereditary rights and old forms of government, and consti- 
 tutions outlived, is admitted in the decisions of rights 
 to reform. The principle of our sacred " Declaration of 
 Independence" has never been maintained in reference to 
 the right of majorities to " alter, amend, or abolish their 
 forms of government !" 
 
 Baron Lefroy seemed to be impressed with a full sense 
 of the dangerous ground on which Mr. Holmes was tread- 
 ing, and he roused all his energies to put a stop to the dis- 
 cussion of a question which promised so much harm to his 
 government. But Mr. H. felt that he stood on equal 
 terms, back of all law but that of God, and above all au- 
 thority but that of heaven, and he warmed up, as if in- 
 spired. He raised himself more erect, glanced a piercing 
 look of defiance at the old Baron, and proceeded, undis- 
 turbed. A bolder and more eloquent speech rarely fell 
 
390 AN ELOQUENT APPEAL. 
 
 I 
 
 from the lips of tiortal man. It reminded me, and I speak 
 it reverently, of the defence of Saint Paul before Agrip- 
 pa; except, in that case, the heathen monarch paid more 
 deference to the rights and argument of the prisoner than 
 was manifested on this occasion. 
 
 The concluding sentences thrilled every heart. Scarcely 
 an eye was dry in that vast assembly. The counsel for the 
 Queen were deeply moved, and even the rough features of 
 the old Baron showed that all his feelings of humanity were 
 not blunted, but that some sense of justice and kindness 
 still lurked in the secret chambers of his soul, which his 
 conflicts with the sterner forms of wrong and crime had 
 not entirely obliterated. The " old man eloquent," to 
 whom that epithet emphatically applies, roused the embers 
 of his mighty genius, and all the glory of his past life seemed 
 to center and radiate from that point, and, as he rose higher 
 and higher in the pathos of his argument, the whole 
 audience clung closer and rose with him. The flashes which 
 darted from his lips were like the clear blaze of the rapid 
 lightning when it plays about the heavens uncontroled, leap- 
 ing from cloud to cloud, and filling the soul with awe and 
 admiration the most profound. There is a divinity in words, 
 when fitly spoken, which is irresistible. I never felt the 
 power of eloquence as I felt it then. 
 
 " The actions of men are not to be judged of by events ; by success, or by 
 defeat. Had the liberties of Greece perished with Leonidas at Thermopylae, 
 Spartan glory would have been the same. Had the days of Marathon, Sala- 
 mis, and Plataea, been days of defeat, instead of victory to Greece, the orator 
 might still have sworn by the sacred memory of the dead. He who dies in 
 battle for liberty and his country, dies the death of a soldier and sleeps in a 
 hero's grave. — Gentlemen of the Jury, I speak not here for my client merely ; 
 I speak for you and your children, and your children's children — I speak not 
 here for myself — my lamp of life is flickering and must soon be extinguished ; 
 but were I now standing on the brink of the grave, and uttering the last words 
 of expiring nature, I would say ' May Ireland be happy ; may Ireland be 
 free.' I call upon you as you value liberty — as you value justice — as you 
 value public good — as you value peace — as you value and love the country of 
 your birth and the land of your fathers — I call upon you by your verdict of 
 acquittal, this day, to contribute your parts towards making Ireland happy and 
 free." 
 
EFFECT OF THE SPEECH. 391 
 
 A long deep-drawn breath, accompanied by a burst of ap- 
 plause, followed the concluding remark. The whole audience 
 rose from their stooping position, for the attention of all 
 had been so intensely riveted to the speaker, that they had 
 unconsciously leaned forward as if drawn by the attrac- 
 tion of a powerful magnet ; and could it have been permit- 
 ted, as in the days of Greece and Rome, they would have 
 borne the glorious old Barrister and his client in triumph from 
 the clutches of the law through all the streets of Dublin, 
 land made the welkin ring with shouts of admiration and 
 ' praise, which would have raised Erin from the sleep of cen- 
 turies to deeds of greatness and glory, to freedom, honor 
 and peace. But alas, the hammer of "law and order" soon 
 crushed the awakened patriotism of a nation. Justice 
 rent her scales, and the bird of Jove flapped her dark wings 
 sullenly and departed, to a fairer clime ; while the broken 
 clouds, which seemed to indicate the termination of the 
 storm which had lowered so long over the Emerald Isle, 
 gathered in deeper folds, and the thunder of despotic power 
 rolled its heavy wheels over the last hope of Irish liberty. 
 
 The old Baron looked up as if glad it was over; the 
 prisoner smiled as if a ray of hope gleamed dimly upon 
 his heart, and the deep sentiment of gratitude struggled for 
 utterance to the man who had done him and the cause of 
 his country, for which he was in bonds, such ample justice ; 
 and every other, man and woman, wiped off the tear which 
 still trembled in their eves, and smoothed their features to 
 a more complacent look, as if willing now to abide the re- 
 sult, satisfied that every thing had been done that could be, 
 and if evil must come, they would submit to it with patient 
 fortitude. I have heard men speak who were called orators, 
 but their productions are puerile compared with this. I 
 have read of Greek and Roman eloquence, but here I have 
 seen its traces as it swept along like a mighty rushing wind, 
 while all within its influence bowed before its resistless force 
 as if to do it homage. I shall never forget that speech, so 
 long as memory clings to the best and mightiest efforts of 
 
392 DENSE CROWDS OF PEOPLE. 
 
 rnortal men, or injured justice claims an advocate of her 
 cause. 
 
 After silence had been restored, Mr. Hen, Q. C, rose to 
 present the concluding argument for the government. He 
 paid a high tribute to the masterly oration of the counsel foi 
 the defence, and proceeded to the delivery of an indiffereni 
 speech, during which we left. 
 
 The crowd outside the court-house, up and down Green 
 street, had become immense. Will they clear him ? Will 
 they find him guilty ? Will they hang him ? Will the 
 jury agree ? were questions asked a thousand times, by 
 men and women, as we worked our way through the crowd. 
 Every body in the vast multitude were waiting with the 
 most intense anxiety to hear the result, and discussing the 
 probabilities in the most favorable light. Poor creatures, 
 thought I, you are indulging a most fallacious hope, hugging 
 a fantom or a viper, which will soon leave you the sadness 
 of disappointment, or the fury of madness. 
 
 Troops of policemen were busy every where, trying to 
 disperse the people. Joining hand in hand, they would 
 sweep along the crowd for several rods, when, like the parted 
 waters, a mightier mass would press upon the vacuum in 
 their rear, and they would be compelled to surge back again, 
 to maintain their ground. Next a troop of mounted police- 
 men vv^ould dash into the multitude and extricate the be- 
 leaguered band. As yet there was no outbreak, no violence, 
 but the more considerate were in momentary expectation 
 there would be an emeute of the most serious character. 
 
 As far as we could see, in all directions, the streets were 
 full of people of all grades and ages, from well dressed ladies 
 and gentlemen, to ragged, and half-starved children. We 
 had not gone a dozen rods before a crowd pressed upon us^ 
 followed up by a dozen mounted policemen. We found 
 safety in a shop. In a few minutes the multitude swept up 
 in the opposite direction. Nobody showed any respect for 
 the officers. Some laughed at them and ridiculed their ef- 
 forts to control the people. Some taunted them as the 
 

 INTENSE EXCITEMENT. 393 
 
 minions of oppression, hired to abuse their countrymen. 
 Others defied them to show their authority, mocking them 
 as mean and contemptible. It was evident the policemen 
 did not dare to do as they would in ordinary cases — that 
 they feared the people. Where there were no policemen 
 there was no trouble, no confusion. So true it is that the 
 useless display of power awakens a feeling of disobedience, 
 as the training of armies, begets the spirit of war, and the 
 execution of criminals a thirst for blood, and recklessness 
 of life. 
 
 Suddenly there came a whisper, like a breeze in a sultry 
 day, that the jury could not agree. A ray of joy gleamed 
 from every countenance, as if new life had been awakened, 
 and the hour of deliverance drew near. The women 
 laughed, and told it to their babies, whom they hugged clo- 
 ser to their breasts ; the little boys and girls were gay 
 again ; and a glimmering of hope lighted the faces of the 
 most fearful and despondent. Still, an awful anxiety was 
 manifest in many, that the danger was not all past, and 
 such seemed as restless as if their own fate was at stake. 
 I confess I shared deeply in that feeling. All my sympa- 
 thies had become enlisted in behalf of the prisoner and his 
 cause, hopeless and rash as I deemed his efforts to have 
 been, and impossible as I knew the work he had undertaken 
 to accomplish for his country. But he had stood up in de- 
 fence of principles which are eternally true, if not always 
 practicable. He had advocated the doctrine of human 
 rights. He had aimed at a higher form of government 
 than that which brute force and usurpation had inflicted on 
 his country — at a Republic, which should recognize the 
 mutual rights and dependencies of all her citizens, and se- 
 cure universal freedom and equal justice to God's children. 
 He had been led to this course in compliance with no fixed 
 formulary of human politics; by no Utopian dream of wild 
 theorists ; by no hope of selfish or personal aggrandizement. 
 He had followed the clear inductions of reason, the sound- 
 est principles of Christian liberty and philanthropy, free 
 
394 MR. MITCHEL S PURPOSE. 
 
 from the influence of feudal nobility and hereditary injus- 
 tice. He had spurned the exclusive privileges of caste, 
 and scorned the rewards of sycophancy. A Protestant by 
 birth and education, he had become too liberal to be a par- 
 tisan or a bigot, and desired to see his countrymen united 
 upon the higher principles of Christian fraternity. A true- 
 hearted Irishman, he had deplored the ignorance, misery, 
 and oppression of his nation, and resented the wrongs and 
 disgrace she had so long suffered, by her own dissensions 
 and neglect, at the hands of tyrant lords, and moneyed aris- 
 tocracies. As a Christian of true faith, ardent love, and a 
 pure life, he had confidence in truth, hope in virtue, and a 
 will to work for the accomplishment of what he deemed 
 his duty. He relied upon the justice of his cause, the ci- 
 vilization of the age, the honor of his nation, the humanity 
 of his fellow-men, for the success of his efforts, and the re- 
 ward of his labors. He trusted in God and his country- 
 men, to whom he appealed, in whose name he spoke, and 
 before whom he acted openly, fearlessly, zealously, if not 
 wisely or successfully. His greatest, if not his only fault, 
 was, like that of Emm.et, Hampden, Sidney, and others, 
 martyrs who perished in the cause of liberty, that he 
 did not scrutinize, with sufficient caution, the signs of the 
 times, nor weigh, as he should, the forfeit he was making. 
 But it ever has been thus. Truth and Justice have had 
 their martyrs in all ages, whom Tyranny has immolated 
 upon the altar of human freedom ; but their roots have 
 been wet with the life-blood of the faithful, and their 
 branches have afterward overshadowed the children of 
 those who have fallen to nourish their growth. The me- 
 mories of such are alwavs blessed, and their names become 
 the watchwords of after generations. 
 
 That was a long and anxious hour. There was no noise, 
 no commotion, no demonstration of hostility. Every 
 thing was still and silent, like the lull which precedes the 
 burstino; of a thunder-storm. All the elements of life clus- 
 tered close about the heart, and men grew pale with sus- 
 
CONTINUED ANXIETY. 395 
 
 pense. Dense clouds spread their dark folds athwart the 
 heavens, and the rays of the setting sun gleamed through 
 the open spaces. Never did a Peruvian watch with keen- 
 er anxiety the sullen stillness which precedes the destroying 
 earthquake that may desolate his city, destroy property 
 and home, and slay his wife and children, than those sturdy 
 Irishmen awaited the announcement of the fate of the friend 
 and advocate of their cause. Never did Arabian mother 
 clasp her child more nervously, at the sight of the 
 approaching simoom, than these Irish mothers did their 
 infants. Language can not describe the intensity of feel- 
 ing which marked every countenance. No hope was left 
 but in the decision of law — British law — law framed to 
 crush Irish liberty, and silence the complaints of the peo- 
 ple ? And what would be the result of this trial, under 
 such a law ? The physical force was too immense to be 
 resisted, for Irishmen have no weapons for a combat. The 
 sanctity of a fair trial by jury had been violated, and it 
 only remained to see what virtue was left in men, under 
 such untoward circumstances. 
 
 The throng did not at all diminish, nor the deep anxiety 
 wane a jot, till a sudden murmur, followed by a shriek of 
 despair, burst from fifty thousand lips, and told the final re- 
 sult. There was no rush ; no shout of vengeance ; no de- 
 fiance of power ; but a deep, sullen expression of contempt, 
 mingled with shame at the consciousness of inabihty to re- 
 sist the rule of wrong, and the oppressions of injustice. 
 Those near by us grated their teeth, as a deep shudder 
 passed over them, clenched their fists, while a vacant stare 
 told the hopelessnes of their hearts. It was a mere spasm, 
 and it immediately passed away, leaving them weak and ir- 
 resolute, and harmless as the caged lion. The multitude 
 began to disperse • -one by one they passed away, as if un- 
 willing to hear or answer a word. 
 
 Soon a crowd rushed down the street, and we supposed 
 the fearful fray had begun. But, in a few moments, an 
 "inside car" dashed by us, over the bridge, at a furious 
 
896 THE TERMINATION. 
 
 rate, followed by three mounted polioemen, and a crowd of 
 men and boys, hooting and groaning at a doleful rate. On 
 inquiry, w^e learned that the foreman of the jury, Mr. 
 Whithy, was in it, and that all the jurors had been sent 
 home in like manner, under a strong detachment of police, 
 to protect them from the fury of an indignant populace. 
 
 I could not, after all, forbear the thought that such is, too 
 often, the display of Irish patriotism. Instead of a high 
 and noble defence of their cause, they descend to a mere 
 personal, guerilla warfare, and think to redress their 
 wrongs by taking vengeance on some hated individual. 
 But such is the fruit of ignorance, and, in their case, may 
 be easily accounted for. Shut out from all intercourse 
 with great and noble spirits which have lived and tri- 
 umphed, tyrannized over by civil officers, domineering 
 priests, and oppressive landlords, they have learned no 
 other lesson than submission, and, when outraged nature 
 does assert a claim, it takes the first and lowest form of 
 vengeance. They can not rise to high and noble efforts, 
 seize upon the primary cause of their wrongs, and remove 
 them. 
 
 Every where the mihtary, as well as the police, was on 
 the alert. Troops of soldiers, cavalry, artillery, and infantry, 
 "armed and equipjjed," ready for a fight, were marching 
 through the streets in all directions. The people stole away 
 to their homes, to weep in private over this fresh proof of 
 their degradation, and nurse their sullen vengeance. They 
 felt, that they were a conquered people, a ruined nation. 
 Heretofore they flattered themselves that they had some 
 privileges, some chances of improvement, some ground of 
 hope. Their leaders had told them so, and England had 
 admitted it, in word. The fallacy of such notions was now 
 apparent. The British lion had growled his decision, and 
 commanded the people to submit in silence. I wonder no 
 longer that the Irish hate the English. When did a man 
 love the power that oppressed him ? Nature would prove 
 recreant to her first dictates were such to be the case. And, 
 
IRELAND VALUABLE TO ENGLAND. 397 
 
 SO long as a spark of patriotism burns in the Irish heart, 
 there will live the spirit of hostihty to English usurpation 
 and tyranny. England must treat Ireland as a friend, as 
 an equal, as a member of the Union, before Irishmen will 
 be satisfied with the government. It is common to hear 
 Englishmen speak with contempt of Ireland, asserting that 
 they should be a great deal better without it. Why, then, 
 in the name of sincerity, does not England let Ireland go? 
 Why not release the unholy bonds of the Union, and rid 
 themselves of such a nuisance ? Why this tenacious grasp 
 upon a nation so worthless ? Oh, forsooth, they say, 
 *' France, or the United States, will at once form an alliance 
 with Ireland !' Such remarks remind me of certain men 
 in our country who say, slavery is a curse, but get mad and 
 rave if any body talks about removing it. 
 
 Ireland is of immense value to England. It furnishes 
 her armies and navy with men, her markets with provisions, 
 her lords and gentry with the easy means of subsistence ; 
 and, I might add, her councils with some of her most dis- 
 tinguished men, yea, and her halls of literature and science 
 with the brightest ornaments of the age. England can not 
 afford to lose Ireland. Let her then be treated with respect, 
 as a friend, and an equal. Let her no longer be oppressed 
 and trodden under foot. Let not her sons and daughters be 
 starved and abused to that degree which drives them to 
 desperation, and compels them to abjure their country, and 
 fly to foreign lands. England boasts of her magnanimity. 
 Let her show the proof of it to this wretched people, and 
 these armies may be disbanded, or sent to rob the Sikhs of 
 their territory, or whip the Chinese to buy her opium. 
 
 I have been thinking, too, of the folly and rashness of 
 Mitchel and his compeers. There is not the least chance 
 of accomplishing any thing by the measures they propose. 
 Ireland is not prepared for resistance. She has no arms, 
 no ships, and, what is more, no spirit of unitij. She lacks 
 the sinews of war — she has neither money nor credit. 
 How can such a people cope with the mistress of the seas ? 
 
 34 
 
398 IRISH sc:diers will not revolt. 
 
 Ten thousand well appointed troops could conquer Ireland 
 in a month. Unless the priests would lead the people, none 
 would fight ; and their vocation is better understood than 
 in the days of Peter the Hermit. A single sprinkling of 
 holy-water on any army which could be collected here, 
 and the word of a priest, would scatter it to the four winds. 
 England has cunningly studied their influence and appealed 
 to their cupidity b}^ promising to grant them a support 
 from the national treasury. 
 
 An idle hope has been whispered that the soldiery, as in 
 France, will fraternize with the people, as soon as a colli- 
 sion takes place, and an opportunity for revolt is given 
 them. There is not the least ground for such expectation. 
 England understands the matter too well. The soldiers and 
 policemen are too well fed, and clothed, and paid, to strike the 
 hand that feeds them. They are like Dr. Madden's clergy 
 which can be " managed like cannon, whose mouths are 
 pointed just as they please who fill their bellies." I have 
 talked with several, who feel very keenly the wrongs and 
 disgrace inflicted upon their country, but J never heard 
 one of them hint at a revolt. They curse the civil, but 
 bless the military power. They swear vengeance against 
 the magistrate who fines or imprisons a repealer, distrains 
 or evicts a tenant, and would join in a mob, to take ven- 
 geance for such acts ; but, at the beat of the drum, they 
 would fly to their quarters, arm themselves, and shoot 
 down the very men with whom they had taken part ten 
 minutes before. Such is the anomalous character of this 
 people. They are like hawks employed in falconry, trained 
 to devour their own species. 
 
 Of one thing I am quite certain : that all attempts at a 
 forcible repeal of the Union will prove abortive, till Britain 
 shall have reached the culminating point ; her distant colo- 
 nies shall revolt, and her returning armies, like those of 
 Rome, proclaim a revolution, and maintain it. Ireland's 
 hope is in the gradual relaxation of the partial laws of 
 feudalism which have so long scourged her. England will 
 
INCAPACITY FOR A RErUBLIC. 399 
 
 do this as well, as certainly ana as soon as Ireland, if set 
 free, would do it for herself, and, in my opinion, much soon- 
 er. Ireland suffers most from her own nobility. " A no- 
 bility sanctioned by British laws," you say. Very true ; 
 but is it certain that a revolution, in the present social con- 
 dition, would remove all the claims and influence of aris- 
 tocratic privilege in Church and State? Who ever 
 heard of a nation so rent by factions, so hostile in their lo- 
 cal and religious prejudices, so clannish in all their feelings 
 and associations, rising to republican equality ? France is 
 trying it. She tried it once before. It is hoped that first 
 lesson is not lost upon her people. But the French are not 
 Irish, by a long way. They are more versatile, more 
 tractable, less clannish, and not half so servile, because 
 not so long and sadly depressed. Portions of Ireland 
 may be ready for a free government. Many a noble heart 
 there is, whicfi beats high and hard for liberty. Of such I 
 have not been speaking. Of the masses I say, they are not 
 qualified for freedom. They could not solve the anarchy 
 which would follow revolution into the elements of repub- 
 lican order and good government. And who of their own 
 countrymen would they follow ? Besides, I have little faith 
 in the stability of republics made for the people, and given 
 to them. They must make them for themselves. Repub- 
 licans alone can found a republic. 
 
 But it should be remembered that these stirs and risings 
 are the preparations for liberty. Furious storms purify the 
 air. The child gains strength by exercise. It may fall 
 and hurt itself a hundred times. It grows wise and strong 
 by its efforts. These are the lessons of humanity, de- 
 signed for the rulers and the ruled. He must be a dull 
 scholar who will not profit by them. Who does not know 
 that along with enlightenment goes liberty ? Mind is su- 
 perior to matter, and the will guides the action. In poli- 
 tics as in religion, so long as kings can keep the })eople ig- 
 norant, they can exercise despotic power. Let them once 
 be informed, and such power is at an end. Ignorance is 
 
400 SOME PRAISE FOR ENGLAND. 
 
 anarchy ; knowledge is freedom. The intermediate is the 
 empire of tyrants ; the field where oppressors do their 
 work. Ignorance will have no government. Wisdom and 
 goodness treats all with equal justice. 
 
 The duty is plain : let the people be instructed — let them 
 grow wise by self-culture, and, like one of old, they will 
 soon " know more than all their teachers." Until they are 
 so, let governments be indulgent, and throw no hindrance 
 in the way of knowledge to stay the progress of humanity 
 towards its glorious destiny, its complete enfranchisement 
 in the light and liberty of the sons of God. Let not a 
 blind selfishness, a vain ambition, deceive those who, for 
 the time, are entrusted with power, either in state or 
 church, to keep them in ignorance, to sustain a dynasty ; 
 for who would be a king of fools, or priest of bigots ? 
 
 England has made some long strides in the work of re- 
 form and progress. She is marching on towards liberty. 
 She is solving difficult problems in the science of govern- 
 ment. Every year carries her forward. Though occa- 
 sionally there may seem to be a retrograde movement, it is 
 only apparent. The earth, in its orbit, seems to roll back 
 by its diurnal revolutions. Humanity will progress. The 
 world must be free. In theory, we are in advance of Eng- 
 land. In practice, carrying out the details of government, 
 she is not far in the rear — occasionally she darts ahead, and 
 leads the way. Her hostility to Ireland, and support of 
 Irish lords and prelates, is a drawback on her greatness. 
 But these commotions ended, a new line of policy will be 
 adopted towards this ill-fated country : — bankrupt estates 
 will be sold ; absentee landlords sent home ; the burdens 
 will be lessened ; religious equality granted, and a general 
 system of paternal treatment adopted, which can not fail to 
 inspire confidence, encourage industry, and promote order, 
 contentment, and prosperity. Such a revolution would do 
 infinitely more, in five years, than all the commotions, and 
 wars, and rebellions of eight centuries — more than all the 
 repeal and embryo revolutions of Orange-men, Ribbon- 
 
ANOTHER SLEEPLESS NIGHT. 401 
 
 men, Molly-Maguires, or United Irishmen have ever 
 dreamed of. It can not be that England will long remain 
 deaf to such plain demands of justice, humanity, and reli- 
 gion. She can not be so blind to her own interests. Once 
 let such a course be adopted, and all cause of commotion 
 will cease, intimidations will no longer be complained of, 
 and Ireland will become the strong arm of the British Em- 
 pire. All will be satisfied with it. Catholics, Protest- 
 ants, Dissenters, Repealers, Orange- m.en, Ribbon-men — all, 
 with one united voice, will praise the justice, honor the 
 nobleness, and cheerfully obey the laws of a good govern- 
 ment, for the Irish are not an ungrateful people. There 
 will be no chance for agitation, for, "where no fuel is, 
 the fire goeth out." Englishmen say "the Irish will be sa- 
 tisfied with nothing." Give them something, and see. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 JOURNEY TO THE NORTH. 
 
 Phoenix Park. — Cars. — Scenery. — Drogheda. — Carrickmacross. — A Fair. — 
 
 Monoghan. A Conversation. Bally gawley. — Fintona. — Sunday. 
 
 Omagh. — Strabane, — Londonderry. — The Foyle. — Giant's Causeway. — 
 Farewell. 
 
 May 27. — An other horrid night. The warring ele- 
 ments of my humanity have been so agitated I could not 
 sleep. What is more intolerable than a night of sleepless, 
 feverish agitation, when the memories of the past, and the 
 plans of the future are all jumbled together in wild confu- 
 sion; when one drowses and dreams, not knowing whether 
 he is in the body or out of it., whether he is rational or a 
 maniac, alive and a man, or dead and a demon. A blessed 
 thing is sleep, to him who has it, but a real tantalus to one 
 afflicted with coma vigil. The wig and cassock of the 
 old Baron, and the scowl upon his wrinkled face ; the bland 
 
 34* 
 
402 PHCEXIX PARK. 
 
 smile and dignified manner of the venerable Barrister ; the 
 tones of his silvery voice ; the sublime eloquence of his 
 rounded periods ; the shout, and the brandishing batons ; 
 the ghost of poor Mitchel, so wan and pale, gazing wistfully 
 upon wife, and children, and the desolations of Erin ; the 
 clank of chains ; the creaking bolts ; the tramp of senti- 
 nels ! Oh, horror, what a night ! 
 
 It is morning — clear, beautiful, and quiet. Here and 
 there a market-woman, with barrow, basket, or pail, wends 
 her way, with a few vegetables, to the market. We follow 
 them. It is Saturday, and the market is very full of mut- 
 ton, veal, butter, cabbage, and other varieties. Food is 
 cheaper here than at home, except what is imported. 
 Protection, for revenue, robs the common people of all 
 luxuries. 
 
 We took a jaunting-car, and rode through the Phcsnix 
 Park. Platoons of soldiers, with haggard faces and dewy 
 caps, were still patroling the streets ; multitudes were pa- 
 raded in the Park, about the mansion of the Lord Lieute- 
 nant. We rode on, no one disturbing us, through the vast 
 and beautiful grounds, by winding avenues, shady lanes, 
 dense groves, silvery ponds, and flowery paths. A charm- 
 ing spot ! Herds of deer were feeding quietly on the 
 grassy lawns, disturbed only by the evolutions of the sol- 
 diers. What a contrast with the condition of the masses 
 in this country ! The vice-regal mansion is a plain, com- 
 fortable building, not much superior to some we see along 
 the Hudson. His Excellency was not astir, and we cared 
 not to disturb his troubled slumbers with any of our repub- 
 lican ideas ! We bowed to the sentinels guarding him, 
 and passed on, querying whether it is better to be guarded 
 in a palace, from the insults of an outraged people, or in a 
 prison, from an oppressive government I had a mind to 
 tell the soldiers and cavalry to " keep off" the grass," as we 
 are told in our parks, for it would not be worth a cent for 
 the sheep and goats upon which this poor people are so de- 
 pendent. Fudge on this pomp and parade of nobility ! 
 
 I 
 
LEAVE DUBLIN. 403 
 
 What an abuse of God's blessings ! Our President has no 
 soldiers to guard -his life. What a mighty fuss about the 
 words of a small, middle-aged man, the son of a dissenting 
 clergyman, very respectable in every thing but his lan- 
 guage ! Who will say " words are trifles ?" Ha, ha, ha ! 
 this is a great world ! and England is a great government ! 
 Queen Victoria is a great woman, to be robbed of her " royal 
 name" by such a man — anl Lord Clarendon is a great 
 man, and Baron Lefroy is a great judge, and if they do 
 not look out, they will make a great man of John Mitchell 
 But I have done with thee, Dublin, thou city of ancient 
 splendor and modern shame, of magnificent edifices and a 
 puny people. I leave thee with no regret. 1 would not 
 stay and hear sentence pronounced upon that honest man, 
 who is guilty of no crime but telHng the truth, from such 
 lips as that old Baron's. Sweet words can never pass such 
 a threshold. Humane thoughts never dwell beneath such 
 a frown. Heaven spare thee yet a little, and raise thy 
 250,000 souls, to taste the sweets of love, intelligence, and 
 liberty. 
 
 At seven o'clock, we took cars for Drogheda, on our 
 route to the North. The station-house, though spacious 
 solid, and convenient, has nothing of the neatness and 
 splendor of that connected with the great Southwestern 
 Railway. The cars come into the second story, the track 
 being on a level with the roofs of the houses, thus passing 
 over the streets, and avoiding all danger by contacts with 
 carriages and foot-men. With a more democratic spirit 
 than we see, in such cases, in our country, corporations are 
 not allowed to impinge the rights and safety of the people, 
 but required to build their roads out of the way. In no cases 
 are they permitted to enter the dense portions of popu- 
 lous cities. 
 
 We took our seats in the second class, which is here b}'- 
 far the most popular and fashionable. The first class is 
 for the "nobility and gentry." In the train there are three 
 
404 ARRANGEMENT OF CARS. 
 
 classes. In the first there were but five persons ; in the 
 second seventy or eighty ; in the third fifteen or twenty. 
 The third class answers to our second. The prices differ 
 about one-third. By law, a train has to be run daily for a 
 penny a mile. The prices in the other classes is optional 
 with the companies. The cars are small, and divided into 
 three apartments, with two rows of seats running across, 
 each row facing the other, and, of course, one-half riding 
 backwards. Each class is on the same plan, the only dif- 
 ference is, the first class has three windows on. a side, with 
 cushioned seats and stuffed backs ; the second has the 
 same except the stuffed backs; the third is minus the 
 cushions, and two windows on a side. The second class 
 cars have often been used for the first, but, like other dis- 
 tinctions, for want of patronage, reduced in rank In some 
 cases the middle portion is for the first class, and that on 
 either end, for the second. A thin wall divides the ranks 
 of society ! It is but a step from plebeianism to aristocra- 
 cy, from virtuous intelligence to the caste of nobility, from 
 the sublime to the ridiculous — and that is — downward. An 
 inch board divides a lord from an honest christian ! The 
 evil is, they sit back to back. Could they but conie face to 
 face, these false distinctions would soon be looked out of 
 countenance. 
 
 The egress from the city, by this road, is remarkably beau- 
 tiful and interesting. Being above the interference of any 
 obstruction to the vision, a fine view is obtained of the 
 semi-circular bay, with its three mile pier, terminated by a 
 light-house, of the unique hill of Killiney, the charming 
 villas, groves, and fields which border the south shore, as- 
 cending back to the distant hills. Before us the rich and 
 highly cultivated grounds of Clontarf spread oflf to the 
 bold headland of Howth, and are adorned with old baronial 
 castles, and churches, and abbeys in ruins, modern villas, 
 and straggling hamlets. 
 
 Who that knows aught of Irish history, has not heard of 
 Clontarf, Brian Boroimhe, and his victory over Sitric, king 
 
ALONG THE yEA-COAST. 405 
 
 of the Ostmen. Here is the spot where that famous battle 
 was fought on "Good Friday," 1014. Time, as if ashamed 
 of its deeds, has left no traces of that fearful conflict, in 
 which more than eleven thousand human beings, including 
 the great Conquerer and his son Murchad, were sacrificed to 
 the god of war. In those days it was heroic to die on the 
 battle-field ; and, by the rule of the world's estimate, few 
 men more noble than Brian have died more gloriously. 
 He had subdued the hostility of the different provinces, uni- 
 ted all the clans of his country under his imperial sceptre, 
 twice beaten the Danes, and now, in the moment of victory, 
 receives his death- wound ; and his son, the heir to his 
 crown, falls by his side ! Yet Irish gratitude has reared no 
 cenotaph, but in history and the nation's hearts, to mark 
 this spot, or commemorate the event. Great actions need 
 no monument. 
 
 We felt happy in being freed from the tumult and excite- 
 ment of the city ; glad to look upon the open world and 
 breathe the free air of heaven. The sea, near which we 
 passed, lay calm and tranquil, and, from its mirror surface, 
 reflected the bright rays of the morning sun. The rugged 
 headlands and rocky islets, which rise boldly from the sea 
 to the height of several hundred feet, with ancient round 
 towers, light-houses, and modern Martello towers, crowning 
 their summits, and the ruins of castles, churches, and ab- 
 beys strown over them ; the soft silvery bays and little in- 
 lets, over which we swept on our way, were far more at- 
 tractive than the miserable fishing villages, dirty hovels, 
 thatched cabins, ragged, squalid population, and occasional 
 aristocratic mansions, which we passed on the route. Mala- 
 hide, Lusk, Rush, Skerries, Balbriggan, are the only places 
 of mention before reaching Drogheda, and only the last 
 of these show many signs of life and comfort. 
 
 Drogheda is a large, close-built town, bearing the marks 
 of ao-e and business. It is situated on the estuarv of the 
 Boync, which is navigable to the bridge. A considerable 
 number of small vessels are lying in port. We noticed 
 
406 DROGHEDA. 
 
 some very respectable buildings, the jail, work -house, and bar- 
 racks, churches of different denominations, friaries, and nun- 
 neries. We observed one convent, which is very handsomely 
 situated, and looked as if the occupants had some respect 
 to the comforts of this life. A passenger pointed out to us 
 an embattled tower of an old abbey, in ruins, a breach in 
 which he said was made by Cromwell's cannon — Puritan 
 balls battering down Catholic establishments ! — a poor way 
 to convert the world ! The streets are narrow, with high, 
 Dutch looking houses, huddled together without respect to 
 comfort or order. A fair show of business is indicated by 
 a large grain market, several cotton, wool, flax, and corn 
 mills; large stores, tanneries, salt-works, breweries, distil- 
 leries, and steam and sail vessels. We noticed some boats 
 on the river, above the bridge, which ply into the interior 
 several miles. 
 
 Two miles up the river is pointed out the place of the 
 famous battle of the Boyne, in 1690, where an obelisk has 
 been erected to the memory of the Duke of Schomberg, 
 who fell in the fight, and near the spot where king William's 
 army crossed the Boyne 
 
 After leaving the miserable huts forming the suburbs of 
 the town, we had little to interest us for some distance, ex- 
 cept the fun and nonsense of a half drunken Irishman, 
 and young fellow some- way conrected w^ith this line of 
 coaches. The youngster passed himself off as the " Mar- 
 quis ofCollybeg," and claimed of the poor inebriate, respect 
 due to his station. Many a keen joke passed between 
 them ; the incredulous toper — whom we named " Lord 
 Staggereen" — denying his claim to such a title. We were 
 not a little amused at this bandying of high-sounding titles 
 by men not much less worthy than many who play their 
 pranks in sober earnest. " What makes the mighty differ," 
 after all ? These men amuse themselves and others with 
 their nonsense ; others confine all the amusement to them- 
 selves, and torture others in doing it. I felt as much respect 
 for the " Marquis of Collybeg" as for any other artificial 
 
APPEARANCE OF THE COUNTRY. 407 
 
 nobleman ; nay more than for some of " blood," for he has 
 done the world some service, and shown some honest prin- 
 ciple, by making himself useful in taking good care of the 
 horses — feeding them well, and keeping them sleek and fit 
 for the journey, while they do little more than kill time, 
 neglect opportunity, abuse confidence, squander means, 
 vegetate in indolence, a disgrace to themselves and human- 
 ity. And "Lord Staggereen" deserved as much of my 
 compassion, for having fallen under the untoward influences 
 of a legalized business, as any aristocratic family, whose 
 character and estates have gone to decay, by their foolish 
 extravagance and wicked habits. Both need a reform. 
 
 Soon after leaving Drogheda the aspect of the country 
 changes ; instead of smooth rounded hills, the land becomes 
 poorer, the hills more rocky and elevated, and the country 
 generally more uneven than about Dublin, or even in the 
 south, except among the mountains of Killarney. As we 
 ascended the hills, we had fine views of the pretty country 
 along the Boyne and south of it, and along the coast to the 
 north-east as far as the mountains of Armagh and Down. 
 Before us the surface became more uneven, and the hills 
 more rough and lofty, but, in some places, the well tilled 
 farms and comfortable dwellings, the spreading valleys, and 
 well-stocked pastures, showed signs of thrift and industry, 
 sufficient to indicate what might be done under more favor- 
 able circumstances. The face of the country reminded me 
 of parts of New England, but there were wanting the neat 
 farm houses, and large barns, extensive fields, thrifty villages, 
 pretty churches, school-houses, and well-habited population. 
 Every thing wears the appearance of age and decay, like 
 farms whose owners have grown old or died, and left them 
 in the charge of indolent and profligate sons. Occasionally 
 we passed an estate under good cultivation, with an elegant 
 mansion-house, with out-buildings, garden, shade- trees, 
 walks, fountains, fields, every thing to correspond with a 
 display of taste and wealth rarely seen at home. But al- 
 most invariably, a miserable hamlet of thatched cabins, 
 
408 IRISH VILLAGES. 
 
 tenanted by miserable inhabitants, the men idling about the 
 taverns, the women " sitting on the style," the children with 
 smutty faces, and almost bare of clothes, at play around the 
 mud -holes and muck-heaps before the doors. Such sights 
 suggested a thought of an other kind of New England vil 
 lages, where the agents of the factories live, in large hand- 
 some houses, with a neat paling about the front yards, while 
 the poor workers, men, women, and children, whose bones 
 and sinews, fingers and sweat, time and life, are wasted to 
 enrich the lords of the spindles, are crowded into rows of 
 low inconvenient houses, dingy about the doors and window- 
 sills, and every way slovenly and repulsive. And I could not 
 help comparing the actual condition of the people living 
 under such circumstances. The contrast was so similar 
 I could hardly strike a balance in favor of either. Both 
 depend upon the will of their lord, for all they have; for the 
 house they live in, the prices of labor, the means of their 
 subsistence. Neither is compelled to stay against their 
 will, but they have no will — to do otherwise. Both com- 
 plain of their condition, but neither has ability to improve 
 it. Both lead a cringing, servile life, and must act, and 
 vote, and almost think, to suit their arrogant employers. 
 Human nature is about the same in Europe and America, 
 in an Irish town or factory village, an "Up-town," or 
 "West-End" palace, or Georgia Plantation. 
 
 A few miles out from Drogheda, the extensive remains 
 of an ancient abbey were pointed out. They stand on a 
 picturesque site, in a romantic valley about a mile from the 
 road. The martial tower, which was added to the abbey 
 after the suppression of the monastic orders, when it was 
 converted into a feudal castle and fitted up for a place of 
 defence, the gateway, and chapel are all that remain, of 
 what was once a vast religious establishment. These monu- 
 ments of piety and pride, learning and superstition, oppres- 
 sion and indolence, intolerance and war, carry the thoughts 
 back through strange and jarring elements, through which 
 humanity has jostled on to its present somewhat improved 
 
COLLON. 409 
 
 and hopeful condition. And still these monuments stand as 
 objects of curiosity to this age. especially to one unfamiliar 
 as I am with the outward forms of religious and political 
 feudalism. Wont to breathe the air of liberty from my 
 childhood, taught by my father that the only distinction to 
 be tolerated among men is based on personal merit, and 
 that to God every one is responsible for what he is and 
 what he does, I have come to have a profound abhorrence 
 for all the assumptions of aristocracy, whether of birth, 
 wealth, or profession. The man who makes a good boot is 
 more honorable than he who makes a had lord. It is not 
 the vocation that honors the man, but the man the voca- 
 tion, A despotic king, an unjust judge, a proud and licen- 
 tious priest, an ungenerous and iron-hearted man of wealth, 
 and a faithless friend, are abominations in the sight of 
 God, and the loathing of just and honorable minds. 
 
 Collon is a neat little town, the property of Viscount 
 Massarene, and formerly the residence of Lord Oriel, the 
 last speaker of an Irish Parliament. The comparative neat- 
 ness and order of this town, give it an air of comfort and 
 rural beauty which speak volumes in praise of the "pro- 
 prietor." It is such an evidence as every Irish landlord 
 should exhibit, under existing laws — a disposition to do all 
 he can for the improvement of his tenantry, for thereby he 
 will not only serve them but enrich himself, and thus do 
 good service for the world while in it. But if suspicions 
 are not groundless, these improvements, in part, are owing 
 to English gold and Irish treachery, by which the liberty of 
 this nation was bartered into the Union. 
 
 The road hence, by Ardee, the capital of Lowth, to 
 Carrickmacross, runs through a rough tract of country, 
 broken into rocky hills, narrow valleys, full of low mea- 
 dows, small lakes, and wet bogs. Still, it is romantic, 
 and some parts are tolerably cultivated. Decent dwell- 
 ings, all over this county, have specific names, by which 
 they are designated. Usually, though not always, the 
 name of the town, village, or hamlet is appropriated to 
 
 35 
 
410 ARISTOCRATIC NAMES. 
 
 them, as " Collyheg Castle, the residence of the noble 
 Marquis of Collybeg ;" " Potcheen House, Lord Stag- 
 gereen ;" " Lackhrain Lodge, Earl Nonsense ;" " Fudge- 
 ton, Sir Nolen McNinney ;" ''Killmaiifield, Right Hon. 
 Twistem Thumbscrew ;" " Dull-law7iey , Pridegirt O'Fus- 
 tian, Esq. ;" " Drumdiddle Hall, Mrs. O'Fussbetty ; " 
 " Groggery Hollow, Mrs. Mc Whiskey," and such like 
 euphonious and expressive terms. One thing has struck 
 me with much force : such aristocratic names sound ama- 
 zingly English, as if they had their origin and use subse- 
 quent to the Conquest. I have thought a new field for the 
 exploration of English historians might be found here, es- 
 pecially for those of the Philological Society, and that, by 
 tracing the form and use of some of these terms of desig- 
 nation, a little insight might be gained into the origin and 
 progress of aristocratic privileges and oppressions. Such 
 a work would, doubtless, be read with some interest and 
 profit, by a certain class at home, who ape the customs of 
 foreigners, and give great names to parts of streets, 
 as if it were more honorable to live in " Humbug Place" 
 than Humdrum Avenue. And those who name their old 
 farm-houses by some "great swelling word" would undoubt- 
 edly peruse such a work with pleasure. It might do for 
 General Jackson to call his house " The Hermitage," Mr. 
 Clay, " Ashland," and Mr. Van Buren, " Linden wald," but 
 even in them it looks a little 2^7i-democratic. I once heard 
 a story told of an Europeanized American of some literary 
 pretensions, who named his residence, in honor and love of 
 his wife, " Glen-Mary." An honest old Dutchman, near 
 by, who loved his wife as well, imitated the refined and Hte- 
 rary example, and called his place " Glen-Betsey." 
 
 Carrickmacross is the first town in Ulster. To us it 
 was rendered attractive by the vast assemblage of people. 
 It was Fair-day, and the street, for a mile, was crowded 
 with people, horses, hogs, cows, asses, sheep, and goata, 
 young and old ; dry goods, groceries, books, boots, dried 
 
FAIR AT CARRICKMACROSS. 411 
 
 fruit, green vegetables, grain, potatoes, butter, cheese — all 
 sorts of things, jumbled together helter-skelter. Auction- 
 eers were bawling, pedlars hawking, babies crying, women 
 scolding, men drinking, smoking, and quarreling ; the young 
 folks chatting, laughing, dancing, frolicking. Beggars of 
 all descriptions haunting us from one end of the town to the 
 other. It was judged 5000 people, 500 head of cattle, as 
 many sheep, and hogs without number were there, and 
 goods enough to clothe, and provisions enough to feed the 
 whole But, alas, few were permitted to do more than 
 look at them. It was a sort of beggars' fair. The lame, 
 the halt, the blind, the sick, the decrepit, were there, beg- 
 ging of whom they could, and exhibiting their deformities 
 to excite sympathy and secure a penny. Of course, de- 
 cently clad strangers, able to ride in a coach, could not pass 
 unbegged. We were importuned at every step. Here a 
 mother thrust her skeleton child into our faces ; an other 
 exposed her cancer breast ; a little girl led her blind 
 father to us ; a fourth exhibited a fractured leg. The most 
 hideous looking being I ever saw in mortal shape was an 
 old man, a complete skeleton, doubled together, his chin 
 resting on his knees, with his fleshless legs and arms ex- 
 posed to view. As we passed him, he turned upon us a 
 deathly stare, and stretched out his long thin arm, mutter- 
 ing a prayer in the name of the Almighty and the Holy 
 Virgin, that we would give him something to keep him 
 from starving. His hollow cheeks, projecting jaws, eye- 
 balls sunken deep in their sockets — oh, horror, I can not de- 
 scribe him — the image of Death, doubled together ! 
 
 Carrickmacross was granted, by Queen Elizabeth, to the 
 Earl of Essex, and is still possessed by his descendants — 
 the Marquis of Bath has one portion, neglected, filthy, and 
 miserable ; Mr. Shirley the other, who is on the spot, to 
 look after his estate, which shows signs of thrift and com- 
 fort. How different from the towns in our country. Here 
 the will of one man regulates every thing. The people 
 have no will, or, what is the same, no opportunity to exer- 
 
412 MONAGIIAN. 
 
 cise it, no individual enterprise, no pride, no ambition, 
 nothing to stimulate them. They bend, by dire necessity, 
 to the dictate of their earth-lord. If he is a man of soul, 
 of enterprise, all goes very well ; if the reverse, and a hard- 
 hearted, indolent, pleasure-loving spendthrift, his tenantry — 
 the population of a whole town — must suffer for his sins; 
 children be brought up in filth and ignorance, on a subsist- 
 ence barely sufficient to keep soul and body together. 
 More pains is taken to rear a fine colt than a fine child ; to 
 keep a large, well-filled hunting park, than a decent village, 
 furnished with the means of comfort and intelligence. 
 And then the poor Irish are belabored, by every John Bui), 
 as an indolent, worthless race, destitute of all enterprise, 
 doing nothing for their own improvement. Why does one 
 side of Carrickmacross present tokens of thrift and com- 
 fort so superior to the other ? 
 
 Passing Castle Blaney, a town of some business, and 
 tolerably well built, we came to Monaghan, the county town, 
 where the coach stopped for the passengers to dine. I 
 thought it a favorable place for such a service ; but while 
 waiting for necessary preparations, the beggars came about 
 us so thick, and looked so famished and destitute, that I could 
 not eat in peace. I bought some small loaves of barley 
 bread and distributed among them. They received them 
 with many thanks, and prayers, " May the blissed Virgin 
 protict ye and give ye a safe journey ; may the good 
 Lord reward ye in heaven" — and devoured it with an ap- 
 parently keen relish. I tried to eat some, just to see what 
 food they live on. It was intolerable ; so tough I could 
 scarcely masticate it. I was glad to find others willing to 
 do that service for me. 
 
 I called at a confectionary and bought some cakes. The 
 keeper, a well dressed woman, asked me if I had come from 
 Dublin, and how the case of Mr. Mitchel had been decided. 
 I answered, against him. She clasped her hands and raised 
 her eyes, exclaiming, " Oh, my God, is it possible ! I am a 
 Catholic, but it is a bitter shame that a man like Mr. Mitchel 
 
CONVERSATION WITH A LADY. 413 
 
 should be hung for speaking in favor of his country, and 
 pleading for the life and honor of our people. But, alas !" 
 she sighed, "what can we do? Our landlords wrench from 
 us all our earnings, and our taxes eat up all we have. We 
 shall soon all be in the work-house." 
 
 " Oh," said I cheeringly, *•' come to America ; we are all 
 lords there, and those who will deserve it may live com- 
 fortably." 
 
 " Would to God I were there, for now I have no longer 
 an attachment to my country. We are no country. We 
 are only a province, the vassals of England ; and they will 
 hang our best men, for daring to tell them the truth. Shame, 
 shame, shame," and she actually wept. 
 
 I spoke some words of encouragement, assuring her they 
 would not hang Mitchel, and that steps would be taken to 
 ameliorate the condition of her countrymen. " Never, 
 never ; we have been promised too long. England has no 
 
 love for us." 
 
 "Nor you for them," I interrupted. 
 " No, by the living heavens, we have not — and how can 
 we have ? Love those who cheat, oppress, and starve us ? 
 Never, so long as I have a heart to feel an insult." 
 " But you should love your enemies." 
 " That will do to preach and talk about at church, but 
 this is no time to practice it. It is a day of vengeance, a 
 time of calamity. We have suffered too long and too 
 severely, to submit to such cold-blooded outrages peaceably. 
 You know nothing of the miserable condition of this coun- 
 try. And now English bayonets are to stop our mouths. 
 We must submit in silence. When one is angry it is a re- 
 lief to speak, and a word will check grief But no ; we 
 can speak no more. Next they will not let us think " 
 
 " Ay, that is the fault of your people," said I ; " you have 
 not been allowed to think freely. You have been told 
 what to think, and what you must not believe. You have 
 not been taught to read God's word, to think, believe, and 
 
 35* 
 
414 A PRACTICAL CHRISTIANITY 
 
 act for yourselves, and how can you be free ? how can you 
 unite to assert and defend your rights T' 
 
 " I confess there is a wrong, a great wrong, somewhere ; 
 that w^e can accompHsh nothing. And there is now no 
 hope. O'Cctnnel, from the west, and a CathoUc, could not 
 succeed ; and now Mr. Mitchel, from the north, a Protestant, 
 is condemned. We are doomed to ruin and disgrace." 
 
 "Till yo'ur people become intelligent, industrious, and 
 capable of freedom !" 
 
 "What of that? My husband and myself have labored 
 industriously, and been most economical ; we have done 
 our best to deserve a competence. We can barely live. It 
 takes every thing to pay rents and cesses, whether we have 
 little or much. No, Sir, there is no hope for Ireland ; the 
 cloud of final despair has closed over us, for ever. Our 
 doom is sealed;" and tears glistened in her eyes. 
 
 "But you suffer from your associations with others, less 
 industrious and frugal, whom you are obliged to help- sup- 
 port. When they become like you, a better fortune will 
 attend you." 
 
 " That may be true, in part. But are not the established 
 clergy informed ? Are not English lords informed ? Do 
 not the Queen and her ministers understand ? And what 
 is done to ease our burdens, and improve our condition ? 
 Nothing, Sir, nothing, but, every year, we are taxed more 
 and more ; and if we thrive at all our rents are raised. One 
 man owns every thing, and we can not remove to an other 
 part of the town to continue our business ; and we must 
 continue where we are and submit to every oppression, or 
 quit the country. If you are an American you ought to 
 judge more correctly, for I hear you are just and honorable, 
 even to the poor." 
 
 " I confess your lot is hard ; and with you, I agree that 
 the prospect of any thing better looks dubious indeed. I 
 can see how you could be better, but I do not see how you 
 are to begin to improve. If your lords would do right, all 
 
MOST NEEDED. 415 
 
 would, in time, go we]l, provided the people would do right 
 also." 
 
 " I hope you don't think the people ought to submit to the 
 oppressions and injustice inflicted on them," said she, re- 
 proachfully. 
 
 " Not at all, madam ; I mean they should do right by 
 themselves ; study to be wise, to be industrious, to be neat, 
 to live in peace, and shame their lords, and 
 
 " Shame their lords. Shame the devil as soon," said she, 
 sneeringly. " Every Irishman will despise them for the 
 wrongs they have done." 
 
 " That is the evil. You have not enough of the spirit 
 of forgiveness. You mutually recriminate one an other. 
 You must all try to do better ; you must all repent, and 
 mutually forgive, as you hope to be forgiven. Your priests 
 must instruct, and not rule the people ; your lords must 
 help and not oppress them. Human governments are no- 
 thing where moral principle prevails, in short, you must 
 love, and not devour one an other. You must be Christians, 
 true, practical, christians ; familiar with the truth and pre- 
 cepts of the gospel. You must rise above party, above sect. 
 You must not be Catholics and Protestants from education, 
 and for the sake of the party, but Christians from principle, 
 from the love of truth and virtue. In America we have 
 all sorts of doctrines in religion and politics, but people 
 are coming to be esteemed for what they are worth morally, 
 intellectually, socially." 
 
 " That is all well, and in your country it can be prac- 
 tised ; but here I assure you it can not." 
 
 " Why, my dear woman, Christianity can be practised 
 every where, so be a person has its spirit, and submits to 
 its power. We may come as far short as you do. But I 
 am speaking of the principle as a means of progress and 
 social improvement. Your people have been trained from 
 infancy to submit to the priest, to submit the highest faculty 
 of the soul — that which should be independent — appealing 
 with confidence to God, directly, not through another mor 
 
416 SlTRITUAL LIBERTY ENCOURAGED. 
 
 tal. They have not dared to think for themselves, as an- 
 swerable to the great Judge, who knows the heart, and all 
 its motives. So, when they are grown up, they submit to 
 temporal as well as spiritual governors, who abuse their 
 privilege, and play the tyrant at your expense. At length 
 the burdens become insupportable, and you revolt : First, 
 against that which seems ;he more direct cause of your 
 misery ; that which lies nearest you in your crushed con- 
 dition — the landlord, the tax-gatherer, the State. If you 
 will search, you will find, back of all this, in your JiaUt of 
 submission to the will and dictate of others, is owing one 
 great cause of the misery you complain of You want 
 ''soul-liberty" most. That must precede every other. 
 ' Seek first the kingdom of God and its righteousness ; then 
 shall these things be added to you.' " 
 
 " There is some force in your remarks, I must confess ; 
 but how can we come to understand them ? Stay, kind 
 sir," added she, imploringly, " and teach them to our people." 
 
 " I fear your people would not hear them from a foreign- 
 er, and a Protestant : and besides you have men to teach 
 them to you. You can read them in the Bible." 
 
 " But they have condemned Mr. Mitchel for teaching 
 them, and our priests do not encourage us to read the Bi- 
 ble. Many can not if they would." 
 
 " The error of Mr. Mitchel was in being too rash. He 
 had faith, but lacked ' patience,' like most other reformers. 
 He should have taken more time to prepare the people for 
 freedom. It will not do to hasten the growth, if we would 
 have it sure and strong. The oak is not produced in a 
 day. Jonah's gourd grew in a night, and it perished in a 
 night ' First the blade, then the ear, then the full 
 corn in the ear.' Time is essential to maturity. As 
 for your priests, they must study over again the duties 
 of a good minister of Jesus Christ ; and, to their other ex- 
 cellent qualities add an ' aptness to teach,' and must be 
 more zealous to serve than to rule the people. For your- 
 selves, you must read, reflect, and act. Teach these little 
 
MONAGIIAN. 417 
 
 ones," continued I, looking at some pretty and neatly clad 
 children who had a little before came into the room, " to 
 read God's Holy Word, to irtiderstand it, and love and 
 obey it ; and persuade your neighbors to do so to theirs, and 
 such as can not do it, you should help. This is the work 
 of humanity, and God will bless you for it ; and, as soon as 
 your nation is grown into the light of knowledge, it will 
 possess a power that will be irresistible to wrong. By 
 knowledge, your wrongs shall be redressed, and your peo- 
 ple made free, and prosperous, and happy." 
 
 She was about to add some thing, when, looking across 
 the " Diamond" square, I saw the horses harnessed to the 
 coach. I scattered the change she had given me among 
 her pretty children, bade her farewell, and hastened to join 
 my companians, distributing my cakes among the hungry 
 beggars who flocked about us. The good lady impressed 
 me favorably by her manners and intelligence. Every 
 thing about her establishment looked neat and orderly, and 
 she certainly exhibited a degree of talent and feeling which 
 would honor the women of any country. I have not done 
 full justice to her remarks. It was impossible to give her 
 language. She spoke fluently, and in that round, smooth 
 voice so peculiar to the educated Irish, and used a style of 
 phraseology which must be heard to be appreciated I 
 could not banish her from my mind. She spoke with ear- 
 nestness, and with a full knowledge of the condition of her 
 country. There is hope for Ireland ; for when the women 
 become enlisted in a cause, it must prosper. They rule the 
 world. 
 
 Monaghan exhibits some signs of improvement. A 
 handsome modern church, court-house, work-house, college, 
 and some older buildings of fair appearance, such as houses 
 of worship for the Catholics, Presbyterians, Methodists, Inde- 
 pendents, and a few private dwellings. The jail and bar- 
 racks must not be omitted, for they stand prominent in 
 every large town. The latter is a cavalry station, and a 
 fair show of military is daily kept up to frighten the people 
 
418 EMYVALE AUGIINACLOY. 
 
 into loyal t}^ Near the town, we passed the canal, from 
 Belfast to Inniskillen, on which we noticed a few dirty coal 
 boats, and one or two loaded with grain and lumber. 
 What adds greatly to this town, is its elevated position, and 
 the pleasant groves about it, which, in this country, so per- 
 fectly destitute of any thing like forests, have a peculiar 
 charm we had never attached to them. 
 
 The country, from Monoghan by Emyvale, is prettily di- 
 versified with hills, vales, streams, and small loughs. The 
 farms are in a tolerable state of improvement. Every 
 thing looks decidedly better than is common in the west 
 and south. The farms are smaller and better cultivated, 
 the cottages neater and more comfortable : the people are 
 better dressed, and appear more cheerful and intelligent ; 
 and, out of the towns, there is less begging, and fewer 
 sights of abject misery. Still there is not that marked im- 
 provement we had hoped to find in Ulster, from all we had 
 heard in its praise. A fellow-passenger assured us it is far 
 better to the east, in Armagh, Down, and Antrim, but I be- 
 gin to fear the prosperity of Ireland is like the poor man's 
 treasure, always in prospect, or like the bag of gold hung 
 at either end of the rainbow, fleeing as it is approached. 
 
 Passing Aughnacloy, a market-town, containing a single 
 street, and some narrow lanes, a church, a Catholic chapel, 
 and meeting-houses for other denominations — such are the 
 designations here — we came to Ballygawley, where we left 
 the stage, and took a car to Fintona. The lusty guard 
 tipped his hat to us, and asked us to give him "something." 
 As he had done us no service, we refused. He looked an- 
 gry and began to bluster, when the driver, who had been 
 very polite to us, answering our thousand questions 
 about what we saw, and affording us a good deal of infor- 
 mation about the country and the people, and amusement 
 with his Irishisms and " Lord Stagereen," whispered to him, 
 and all was right. 
 
 While waiting for the car, we were beset by numerous 
 beggars. One, a half-clad woman, not much above middle 
 
AMERICA, AN ALMS HOUSE. 419 
 
 age, followed us into the hotel, asking us to give "poor 
 Betty a ha'penny." The inn-keeper seized hold of her and 
 dragged her out, as though she had been a brute. She 
 squalled, and begged, and threatened, in a most indecent 
 manner, using language too base and profane for repeti- 
 tion. I have been surprised at the unfeelingness manifested 
 towards the miserable wretches who infest all the towns 
 and villages of this country. They are scorned and driven 
 away as if they were reptiles, and b}^ those barely a grade 
 above them. But this conduct has an explanation in the 
 condition of society, the distinctions, oppressions, and con- 
 sequent ignorance, poverty, and degradation. They make 
 beggary the business of their lives. They become a race, 
 a beggar bandit, and have no higher aim than to live upon 
 others earnings for they can do nothing for themselves. 
 Multitudes of this miserable class are annually transported 
 to our shores by public charity, merely to get rid of them. 
 Our large cities are yearly more and more infested with 
 them. Social evils do not stop with individuals directly 
 imphcated in guilt. They are diffusive, spreading their 
 baneful influences like a mildew, upon the whole communi- 
 ty. In our country we suffer severely from the injuries in- 
 flicted upon the people of ihis country^ and it becomes an 
 object worthy of our government to inquire into the reme- 
 dies for these evils. It would be wrong, perhaps, to refuse 
 to admit \]\q pauper population of Great Britain into our 
 States — it might appear uncharitable ; but it will become 
 a question for our statesmen to solve, whether America is 
 to be made the alms-house of all creation — whether emi- 
 grants shall not bring something more than their skin and 
 bones, and rags, and dirt, and vermin, in order to gain a 
 residence, and be adopted as citizens. A family, neighbor- 
 hood, or town would not be satisfied — would not suffer such 
 a state of things. Why should a nation submit to such an 
 imposition upon good nature ? England is going to some 
 expense to ship off her poor to Australia, thinking they 
 can be supported cheaper there than at home. But little 
 
420 REBELS PREFERABLE TO PAMPERS. 
 
 will be done in that way, so long as £4 will send them to 
 the open arms of Brother Jonathan, who will take good 
 care of them I would not shut the doors of our country 
 against foreigners ; nor against the poor who are abandoned 
 by their (un) natural guardians ; but I would have a proper 
 discretion used about the terms on which we shall adopt 
 our neighbor's children and all the foundlings in creation. 
 1 would let them know that we will not father all the off- 
 spring of their illicit and inhuman intercourse ; that they 
 must send them to us tolerably clad, decently fed, with 
 enough practical knowledge to make them capable of self- 
 support, with the advantages we can give them. Let the 
 standard be that no emigrants shall be landed except such 
 as can read and write, and have some knowledge of work, 
 unless too young, or with money sufficient to support them- 
 selves till they can learn to do so. The time was when 
 England would allow no artisan to come to us from that 
 country, for fear we should steal some of their trades. We 
 have found them out, and grown rich, and she is taking 
 vengeance by sending all her paupers to us for support. 
 Her political offenders we would take off^ her hands, willing- 
 ly ; for they know some thing and we are not afraid of their 
 radicalisms. I would respectfully suggest whether it would 
 not be politic and humane to send Messrs. Mitchel, O'Brien, 
 Meagher, O'Donohue, and others, to us and save the great 
 expense of fitting out ships, and mariners, and military sta- 
 tions to provide for their safety and comfort. We will use 
 them well, and their wives and little ones, and agree they 
 shall do no mischief. The money so saved would help 
 many a poor Irishman to a patch of earth on which to sup- 
 port his wife and children. 
 
 " Poor Betty" and the crowd hung about the door, and 
 when we came out to mount the car, she redoubled her en- 
 treaties with such vehemence that all the other beffffars 
 were put to shame. The landlord asked her if she could'nt 
 let the gentlemen go in peace. She turned to him a look 
 of defiance and said, " And would ye let poor Betty stharve 
 
FINTONA. 421 
 
 ye old carlin and brute, to thrate a pour woman so. The 
 gintilmen knoo better as ye, and they have a shoul to fale 
 for a craytur in distress." In every town there are lots of 
 idlers, loafing about, who are pleased with any thing which 
 breaks the tedium of their vacancy, and excites the least 
 degree of entertainment. 
 
 On the hill above the street is the demesne of Sir Hugh 
 Stewart, the " owner of the town," and an extensive tract 
 about it. Jt sounds queer to be told that this man or that 
 owns a whole town of several thousand inhabitants, and 
 every thing around it. Were it so generally in our country, 
 Anti-rentism would soon work a revolution. 
 
 The road to Fintona is crooked, and, in some places wild 
 and romantic ; in others very beautiful, bordered by rows 
 of trees, and occasionally decent cottages, and respectable 
 farm houses. But every now and then, the country is " dis- 
 figured" by hamlets of miserable, low huts, with thatched 
 roofs and every thing slovenly about them. The face of 
 the land itself is less beautiful than through Monaghan, con- 
 taining a large share of dreary moor, wet bogs, and heather 
 hills. Industry, however, has been employed to some ac- 
 count, so that, on the whole, this region compares favorably 
 with most other parts of the kingdom, and is decidedly in 
 a better condition than some portions of the south and 
 west, though naturally, far less beautiful and productive. 
 
 We drove to the only inn in the town, and put up for the 
 night, weary and willing to be satisfied with such accommo- 
 dation as we could find. Had it been otherwise, we might 
 have been less contented. But when people do all they 
 know with the means they have — the ladies give up the 
 best room in the house, it is not well to complain. The 
 traveler goes to see more than to improve, the world, and 
 should be content to view things as they are, and not find 
 fault because every thing is not as he would have it. 
 
 May 28. — It is a calm, sweet Sunday morning. There 
 is some thing beautiful in the Christia,n Sabbath. Nature 
 seems more quiet and serene ; the sun shines brighter ; the 
 
 36 
 
422 SUNDAY. 
 
 birds sing sweeter ; the grass looks greener ; the flower? 
 bloom fresher ; and every body appears more cheerful and 
 happy. The smile of God is upon all his works. The pure 
 in heart see God, and delight to worship at his holy altar. 
 
 I see, from my chamber, multitudes of people going to 
 early mass, in squads of three or four, seeming quite cheerful 
 and happy. The street is full of them. I always admired 
 the devotion of the Catholics. I have seen them in out 
 city, in cold mid- winter mornings, assemble before day- 
 light, to hear the service, or repeat the " Pater Nos- 
 ters." Sincerity always commands respect, and should 
 be treated generously, however much we may deplore 
 the ignorance and superstition some times connected 
 with it. These people give proof of their honesty and 
 piety. But these are not enough, the only requisites of re- 
 ligion. They do not '^ grow in grace, and in the knowledge 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ ?" Christianity is represented 
 as a race, and all are required to run in it. To do so, a 
 feeling of liberty and responsibility is necessary for every 
 individual, who will be thus stimulated to go forward, re- 
 lying upon God and his own exertions for success. For 
 not having been so taught, Ireland, the church, and the 
 world now suffer. Blame is attached to other times, and 
 circumstances complained of, and every method devised to 
 shirk responsibility, even if it be by reproaching the provi- 
 dence of God himself. Coupled with the submission and 
 quietism insisted on by the church, is the practical doctrine 
 of a virtual fatality, which is generally cherished, and leads 
 to the inactivity, and moral and social dormancy which 
 every where prevails. The people have no faith in any 
 thing better. They see no gleam of light, no Jacob's lad- 
 der for their ascent to a better condition. A dark pall is 
 spread all over them, and they sit down, and fold their arms 
 in sullen despair, and rise only when compelled to go 
 to their tasks of work or prayer, and return to their 
 scanty meal of stir-a-bout, or potatoes, and pallet of straw. 
 They never seek to rise. They have no faith, no heart, 
 
CASTLE LODGE. 423 
 
 no hope. How can they make an effort ? Submission, 
 patient, unmm'muring, hopeless, soul-killing submission! 
 That is their lesson from year to year, and every day of 
 their lives, in the field and in the chuj'ch ; taught alike by 
 policeman and beadle, magistrate and priest. Where is 
 Ireland's hope ? Where the remedy of her wrongs? Her 
 weary, starved children turn their dim eyes and cadaverous 
 faces towards America. But if they take their priests and 
 their prejudices, their ignorance and their indolence with 
 them there, they shall gain little by the change They can 
 lose nothing — so their game is desperate, as far as home is 
 concerned. They can not be worse; they may be better 
 — so they submit to the fate which compels them to go. 
 When there, they must be taught the first lessons of man- 
 hood — to be free — to think and act for themselves — to do 
 and to be for themselves — to rise above servitude — to de- 
 spise submission to another's will — and then, with humility 
 their own, engage in whatever offers, not as " eye-servants," 
 but from principle, ready to do what ever is honest, know- 
 ing that such is honorable. 
 
 While at breakfast, we received a call from the kinsman 
 of my friend, who invited us to " Castle Lodge," a neat lit- 
 tle cottage, just out of the village, standing back from the 
 road, fronted by a handsome flower and culinary garden, 
 and shaded by some stately trees, with a lawn spreading 
 off to the left, and a hill rising in the rear. Every thing 
 about it looks neat, genteel, and comfortable. We were 
 glad to avail ourselves of such an opportunity to refresh 
 our spirits by an interchange of sentiments, and the tokens 
 of friendship, which add so much to the comforts and 
 charms of life. 
 
 The Surgeon is an intelligent man, retired, on half-pay, 
 from the naval service, in which he spent several years at 
 different stations in Europe, Asia, and America, of a kind 
 disposition, and thoroughly British in his feelings. He ex- 
 pressed the loftiest admiration of the naval prowess of his 
 country, and, though stationed on our coast during a part 
 
424 RUNDALE LEASES. 
 
 of the last war, had no particular knowledge of certain en- 
 counters between the lion and the eagle ; and, as guests, 
 we took no pains to refresh his memory. We were more 
 anxious to learn his views of the conditi<^ni and prospects 
 of Ireland, the cause and cure of her miseries. Upon 
 these topics we conversed freely, and at length. He spoke 
 of the ignorance and misery of Ireland in the severest 
 terms, and attributed all to the wickedness of the 'priests 
 and indolence of the people, called them lazy, bigoted, rest- 
 less, ungovernable ; and said " they are like the Canaanites, 
 doomed of God, to extinction." In my thoughts I added, 
 and the English are like the Jews, a hard-hearted, stiff- 
 necked, and disobedient nation, most highly favored, but 
 most cruelly oppressive in the use of their privileges. We 
 questioned him till the subject became clear to my mind. 
 He had been one of the immense number hired and paid 
 by government to do nothing but help waste the energies 
 of the nation. After a few years service in patching up 
 broken limbs, and extracting lead bullets, he retired to an 
 easy and comfortable life. All who, like him, live out of 
 the public soup dish, may well complain of those who jog- 
 gle their elbows. 
 
 A curious expedient is resorted to in this country to se- 
 cure the payment of rents. Large tracts of lands are rented 
 in what is called " rundale" or " partnership holdings." 
 The land-owner, or large middle-man, induces several te- 
 nants to take a tract in common, and divide and work it to 
 suit themselves ; by this means they are able to make each 
 one jointly, and severally, liable for the whole rent ; so that 
 if one does not pay, he can levy on the property of the 
 whole, and distrain or eject at pleasure. In short, no con- 
 trivance which avarice can suggest, or extortion execute, 
 is wanting to wrench from the people the last farthing to 
 support aristocratic distinctions. This downward course 
 has been pursued so long, that both owners and occupants 
 have become miiserable together, and their existence is their 
 mutual dependence. One can not rise without the other, 
 
DECAY OF THE LINEN BUSINESS. 425 
 
 neither can sink much lower. The first are anxious to keep 
 up their honorable and ancient family distinction, the other 
 must have a Hving, or it can not be done. Most estates are 
 heavily incumbered, and mortgages, by chancery right, are 
 always more oppressive and unfeeling than the nominal 
 owners. Thus a double curse is inflicted on the common 
 people. T have before suggested that Ireland can never 
 prosper till this whole system is changed, and the people 
 permitted to hold a right in the soil, either by long lease or 
 in fee, which is infinitely better. 
 
 An other cause of the great misery in the north, our friend 
 attributed to the failure of the linen business, by the intro- 
 duction of machinery and foreign competition. This was 
 formerly the principal resource of this part of the country. 
 Spinning wheels for the women, and looms for the men, 
 were in every cabin ; now they are rarely seen. Every 
 two weeks, markets were held in all large towns, where 
 each workman brought his web, and each woman her yarn. 
 The cloth was sold and the yarn bought, and each returned 
 with his fortnight's gains. The farmer was there with his 
 flax, the merchant with his cash, and all was life and pros- 
 perity. Those days are past. Machinery drives spindles, 
 and shuttles faster, and cheaper, and these poor spinners 
 and weavers have nothing to do. Belfast, with a few thou- 
 sand girls and boys' makes all the cloth, at a cheap rate, 
 while the millions before employed are left without work, 
 and Englishmen and royalists call them lazy. Corpora- 
 tions monopolize the whole business, and individual en- 
 teprise is left to starve. Belfast thrives while the interior 
 towns go to decay. The business of the country is in- 
 creased and the few get the benefit, while the masses are 
 made worse. " But this need not be." It is, and you must 
 convince these people that "it need not be." 
 
 The more general introduction of manufactories might 
 improve the country. There is vast water power on the 
 Shannon, the Lee, the Boyne, the Foyle, at Ballyshannon, 
 at Coloony, at Ballysydore, at Erris, at Galway : let it turn 
 
426 THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 
 
 upon machinery; let the people be employed; let landlords 
 come home and take care of their farms ; and those who do 
 not own any be cut off from their pretences ; let the crown 
 lands be offered to the people, as a reward for industry ; let 
 the bogs be drained, and waste lands be reclaimed ; let the 
 immense fisheries be no longer neglected, nor the mines un- 
 worked ; in short, let the resources of Ireland be developed 
 for the good of the people ; give them a free church, and 
 common schools, and little will be heard, in ten years, of 
 the ignorance, misery, indolence, and intimidation of the 
 Celtic race : no wail of wo, nor stench of misery will be 
 wafted over this fair, and beautiful Isle but that which 
 comes from a corrupt and dying aristocracy. 
 
 We attended church at eleven. The building is neat, 
 and comfortable, much like ours at home, except a pew on 
 each side of the desk, elevated a step or two, with red cur- 
 tains about them, for the " proprietors" of the town. The 
 lest are on a level. The audience was small, say 150, half 
 of whom were well clad, the rest attired in the costumes 
 of the country. The sermon was very good — on love as 
 the basis of all true religion and piety, and charity as the 
 duty of the Christian. It was appropriate to a collection 
 taken in behalf of the Tyrone Orphan Asylum, which 
 was declared to be " unsectarian, for Catholics and Dissent- 
 ers, as much as for Churchmen, for all whom misfortune 
 has overtaken." I was glad to hear that announcement. 
 Charity should know no limits. The blessed spirit of Chris- 
 tianity will find its way to human hearts ; it will rise above 
 all prejudice, and breathe life and love every where. The 
 age of exclusiveness is passing away. Old forms remain 
 — they are no more than shadows — the chrysalid invest- 
 ments, no longer needed. The world is undergoing the 
 process of regeneration. God, in humanity, will assert his 
 rightful claim, and " his will be done in earth as in heaven." 
 Amen ! 
 
 Returning, we noticed the shops were open for traffic, as 
 on week days ; the dram shops appeared to be too well pa- 
 
A CONVERSATION. 427 
 
 Ironized. Eveiy where in this county we see the fearful 
 words emblazoned, prophetic of misery and crime — " Li- 
 censed to sell beer and spirits ;" to which are frequently 
 added " wine and tobacco," which are apt to keep close 
 company. Here is an other prolific cause of the wretched- 
 ness of this country. Intemperance is the parent of innu- 
 merable vices : half the world's misery ; and tippling is the 
 immediate cause of intemperance. So long as govern- 
 ments trifle with morality, and legalize the business of 
 making drunkards, by selling the exclusive privilege for a 
 few pieces of silver, so long will it wear an air of respecta- 
 bility, and tempt the unwary, beguile the simple, and besot 
 the foolish, till all come to feel something of its diffusive 
 curse. The evils of drinking are too well known to need 
 description ; but when they are considered in connexion 
 with the circumstances of the people, they become enor- 
 mous. Jails and poor-houses are always needed where 
 dram-shops are common ; and, if governments will license 
 one, they must support the others, and the people, who con- 
 sent to both, must be the sufferers. 
 
 While sitting at the hotel, a corpulent man rode up, in a 
 handsome carriage, and saluted an other, equally sleek and 
 well-fed — a magistrate — and said, " Well, Miichel is sen- 
 tenced to fourteen years' transportation ; I have it in a let- 
 ter." " Good," said the other, with a sneer of triumph to- 
 wards the men standing by ; " we may now hope for quiet, 
 if O'Brien and Meagher follow." "Not so quiet as ye'd 
 bay afther thenkin'," said several, as the gentlemen rode 
 away. A long and exciting conversation followed, in true 
 Irish style, with many expressions of patriotism. 
 
 " An' Misther Mitchel was no Catholic," said one, "boot 
 a Protestant an' a Presbytarian." 
 
 " The divil a bit does an Englishman mind a Presbyta- 
 rian, ony longer, ony hoo ; bad luck to them ;" said a lean 
 old man, in drab breeches, with a blue coat and slouched hat. 
 
 " An' it's time all thrue Irishmin should spake frin'ship to- 
 gither, an' lave aloone all aboot Ribbon-min an' Orange- 
 
428 OMAGH STRABANE. 
 
 min," added a sedate man ; " we are inimies too long, and 
 the Lord has given us no pace." 
 
 " That same is thrue what ye spake, Misther O'Neil, ive- 
 ry word of it." said an other ; " an' there'll be a mighty little 
 moore throuble oov that sort in these parts. We must sthand 
 till each ither, or we'll all be sent till banishmint togither." 
 
 "Or stharved at home, which is more likely," said a thin, 
 pale man. "An' what would they be afther doin with all 
 oov us there, Misther O'Flannigan ?" 
 
 " Not a divil a bit do they care foor us, an' they can git 
 us oof our tinant-right, and drive us froom the coounthry. 
 We may go till Amiriky, or Botany Bay, or the divil, and 
 they'll care not a pinny." 
 
 May 18. — An early ride brought us to Omagh, the capi- 
 tal of Tyrone, a smart town, with a wide street, and the 
 everlasting barracks, jail, and work-house, with the usual 
 show of dwellings, business, and poverty — men waiting to be 
 hired, and women to beg. Thence, by coach, to Strabane, 
 through a dreary moorland, broken with heather hills, and 
 here and there a smiling valley, broad strath, deep 
 glens, and small streams with poetic names. The only 
 town passed is Newtown Stewart, with a castle in ruins, 
 and the house where James II. slept one night — a valuable 
 relic ! Strabane is a large, bustling, dirty town of old rook- 
 eries, huddled together in disorder, entirely the property of 
 one man — the Marquis of Abercorn, who owns all this re- 
 gion, much A which is in a miserable condition, though 
 some parts show signs of improvement. A canal admits 
 small vessels from the Foyle, and a railroad connects it 
 with Londonderry. 
 
 Londonderry is an old, important, and delightfully situa- 
 ted town. Its history goes back to the 6th century, when 
 St. Colomb founded a monastery here, since which it has 
 been the scene of many stirring events, one of which is re- 
 corded on " Walker's Testimonial," standing in the highest 
 part of the city, in these words: — "This monument was 
 erected to perpetuate the memory of Rev. George Walker, 
 
LONDONDERRY. 429 
 
 who, aided by the garrison and brave inhabitants of this 
 city, most gallantly defended it through a protracted siege, 
 from the 7th Oct. 1688, O. S. to the 12th Aug. following, 
 against an arbitrary and bigoted monarch, leading an army 
 of upwards of 20,000 men, many of whom were foreign 
 mercenaries ; and by such valiant conduct in numerous sor- 
 ties, and by patiently enduring extreme privations and suf- 
 ferings, successfully resisted the besiegers, and preserved for 
 their posterity the blessings of civil and religious liberty.'* 
 The names of Carnes, Leake, and Browning, are inscribed on 
 the east side, Baker, Mitchelburn, and Murray, on the west. 
 
 We ascended the tower of the cathedral, w^hich over- 
 looks the city, and a wide extent of country. In the 
 vestibule we saw a bomb-shell which was thrown into the 
 church yard, in 1689, by the French, containing proposals 
 for peace. It is mounted on a pedestal and placed in a 
 conspicuous position. We were also shown two flag-staffs 
 taken from the French, which are displayed back of the 
 high altar. We also visited a primary school, which for or- 
 der and advancement came vastly short of such institutions 
 at home. 
 
 We walked entirely round on the city wall ; in some places 
 it runs along the brow of the hill, in others passes through 
 the town, but every where presents objects of attraction. 
 While standing over the west gate we saw an old woman, 
 covered with a brown cloak, sitting on a hand barrow, eating 
 dry meal. I went down and bought a loaf and slipped into 
 her lap. She looked at it with astonishment, and, turning 
 her head, said, " May the good Lord bliss yer honor and 
 save your shoul." We stepped away, and soon a set of 
 vagrants gathered about her, envying her good fortune. 
 An old man and a boy, both in rags, soon came and took 
 up the barrow and carried her away. 
 
 The public and private buildings in and about Derry are 
 very respectable. The " Bishop's Palace," a large mansion, 
 with fine grounds about it, in the heart of the city, does not 
 look like " bearing the cross." The Glynn-school, an unsec- 
 
430 LEAVE FOR SCOTLAND. 
 
 tarian institution, college, lunatic asylum, and barracks, are 
 situated on the sloping hills at some distance from the city. 
 The city stands upon a high bluff, or tongue of land, with 
 deep valleys running or. either side, beyond which hills rise 
 high, the sides of which are adorned with elegant dwellings, 
 gardens, and fields. Lough Foyle opens before it, which ex- 
 tends to the sea. It is a beautiful location. From Diamond 
 square, in which stands the Town Hall, four streets radiate 
 .0 the four gates. The city looks old, but it is a place of 
 considerable business. There are many scenes of poverty 
 and wretchedness mingled with the tokens of wealth and 
 comfort. It is of far less importance, as a commercial 
 town, now, than formerly, but it still carries on considera- 
 ble trade with England, Scotland, and America, in the ex- 
 port of cattle, produce, and people, and the importation of 
 lumber, corn, sugars, and so forth, for the interior. 
 
 Having occupied the day and seen all the wonders of the 
 <.own, we decided to abandon our plan of visiting Antrim, 
 Down and Belfast — being tired of a land so full of wrongs 
 and miseries — so despoiled of its beauties and blessings, by 
 injustice and social neglect — and went on board a steamer 
 bound to Glasgow, at four o'clock. Here an other picture 
 was presented which serves to illustrate the method of busi- 
 ness, and manners of life in this country. The main-deck 
 was crowded full of cattle, (160 head,) the forward cabin 
 and quarter deck with steerage passengers, and piles of 
 freight. Towards night I visited the cabin, and such a 
 scene of wretchedness — no beds, few seats except the floor, 
 only one dim taper, rags, dirt, smoke, profanity, scolding, 
 laughing, singing — a complete pandemonium. Once they 
 were all driven on deck to collect the fare. One by one 
 they passed the clerk. Some protested they had no money. 
 One old woman /leld out stoutly, till words waxed warm, 
 and severe threats were given, when a little girl offered to 
 pay a part ; then an other wrangle, and an other 3d., and so 
 on till the last farthing was paid. At night the deck was 
 covered with a mass of sleepers, nestling together in strange 
 
THE giant's causeway. 431 
 
 confusion ; parents and children, men and women, young 
 and old, indiscriminately packed together. In one squad I 
 noticed a mother and six children. The decks were wet 
 and few had any covering. The people seemed to be as 
 little cared for as the cattle. The former are going to seek 
 work in Scotland ; the latter to the Edinburgh market. 
 We succeeded in obtaining decent berths, as there are but 
 three or four cabin passengers, and so have a comfortable 
 prospect before us. 
 
 We stopped oft' Portstewart long enough to exchange pas- 
 sengers with two small boats, which came out to us for that 
 purpose ; and also at Portrush, the usual landing place for 
 persons who come to visit the Giant's Causeway. We had 
 intended to land here, till advised in Derry that we should 
 see the wonders of the coast to the best advantage from the 
 water. The (Cliffs already appeared on our right, illumina- 
 ted by the rays of the setting sun. On a projecting rock 
 overhanging the sea, stood the ruins of an ancient castle. 
 A rocky barrier, over which the breakers foamed in wild 
 commotion, stretched directly across our path. Several 
 naked islets lay on our left. We dashed through the foam- 
 ing waves by a narrow inlet, and were soon in a bay com- 
 paratively calm, and directly before the Clifts, and the Caves 
 of Partcoon and Dunkerry. The scene was grand and the 
 moment exciting. The whole line of this magnificent coast 
 stretched along our right. The shore for four or five miles, 
 is scooped out into numerous little bays, from which clifl?s 
 resting on colonnades of columnar basalt, rise abruptly to 
 the height of 300 or 400 feet. 
 
 We were soon directly in front of the " Causeway," the 
 wonder of my geographical studies ; of which I obtained a 
 perfect view by help of the Captain's glass. Ranges 
 of columns, placed one above an other, formed the wall of 
 the bay, interlaid, with a horizontal strata of earth or rock, 
 of a lighter hue. From the top of these, the green lawn 
 ascends back to the plain above. The Causeway itself is 
 formed of numerous basaltic columns, of various sizes and 
 
432 THE GIANT.- — FAREWELL. 
 
 length, placed one above an other, and perfectly articulated 
 in a horizontal direction. It may be 300 feet wide, and 
 descends, by uneven steps, from the height of 25 feet at the 
 foot of the cliffs, towards the sea, till it dips under the water. 
 Of the length towards us I could not judge — the whole area 
 may cover two acres. On a projecting pedestal, part way 
 up the little promontory from which the Causeway extends, 
 is a curious formation of rock, which, by a little help of the 
 imagination, presents the image of a huge man. This is 
 called the " Giant," and is as perfect as the " Old Man of 
 the mountains," at the Franconia Notch, or the man's face 
 at Breakneck, on the Hudson, before it was mutilated. 
 The tradition is, that giants undertook to build a bridge 
 across the channel, to Scotland, but the Fates became en- 
 raged, destroyed their works, and turned their leader into 
 this monster image. It certainly presents a grotesque ap- 
 pearance, and forms an object of great curiosity. It can 
 be seen only from the water. The Aird's Snout, the Shep- 
 herd's Path, the theatre, the organ, the ruins of Dunseve- 
 rick, on the sunmiit of a naked, isolated rock, which dates 
 back of history, were severally pointed out to us as we 
 passed along, each attracting special attention, and render- 
 ing this coast an object of intense interest and admiration. 
 The whole suggested to me the ruins of a gigantic city of 
 massive structures, fronted by immense colonnades ; and, as 
 such, seemed not inappropriate as an outpost of this re- 
 markable Island. 
 
 But the sun has gone to his rest on the bosom of the sea; 
 the dark shades are gathering fast in the little bays ; the 
 heavy clouds are hanging about the drapery of night, 
 through whose folds gleams the northern twilight, which, at 
 this season, does not wane into complete darkness ; the 
 green hills gradually recede from my view, and, with min- 
 gled joy and regret, I bid farewell to the beautiful but un- 
 fortunate Emerald Isle. ^ 
 
 6 635 
 
I