and placed the uncovered head carefully on a stone, that it might be the more convenient mark for his blows-Rock is the boy to make the fun stir.' I pass by, however, such trifling amusements as these; it is only in his hours of dalliance that he is to be found engaged in these light sports, or, as has been said elsewhere, ridiculously tossing children on the point of a pike.' I come to a nobler exploit, such as will more faithfully characterize the gallant captain, and more effectually justify the seeming extravagance of the missionary's praises.

"There lived in the county of Waterford, a gentleman of small property, but of a family, which, independent of its antiquity, was venerable in the minds of the people, for having suffered in their cause.* He was a Roman Catholic; he was a man of the kindest manners, a most humane and indulgent landlord, even to his own detriment, and from his earliest youth he had never forsaken the popular side. If such men are regarded as the enemies of the people, I could wish to know, who they consider their friends? This gentleman was a tenant to Lord Middleton, a nobleman of whom it is little to say, that he is a munificent and benevolent landlord, and who has the rare advantage of having his good intentions not marred, but carried into perfect execution by intelligent and upright agents. It will readily be understood, that there may have been an anxiety generally felt to be the tenant of such a noble

man, and to be under the direction of such agents. Mr Sheehy, the tenant of whom I speak, held under Lord Middleton, on a lease for his own life; and (the lease of one of the persons to whom he had re-let the ground having expired) he gave a farm, containing about thirty acres, to his son, whom he wished to leave in possession of tenants began to think, that if Mr Sheehy died while they were in possession, they might have their leases continued under Lord Middleton, as their immediate landlord: and the resolution was adopted to murder an innocent kind-hearted old man, who had been living for the greater part of sixty years with the old people and their children, on terms of the most affectionate intercourse; and who had been indulgent to all his tenants at personal losses, and at the expense of suffering such inconvenience in

so much on his own demise. The tenants

his family as made his indulgence a fault. He had been walking on a winter evening towards his home a home, from which, while Sheehy had means to be generous, no poor man was ever sent empty away. He was, with his usual open-hearted and benevolent hilarity, conversing with a young peasant about his approaching marriage, and assisting him with his counsel on the arrangements he should make. The young man entered into the house where his mistress lived, and Mr Sheehy pursued his way, unacquainted with fear, and imagining that there was not perhaps in existence a being who could entertain a hostile feeling against him. In the meantime, the young man from whom he had parted with a blessing, had armed himself, and gone in pursuit of his unsuspecting victim; and while his mind was, perhaps, occupied with benevolent projects for his murderer the murderer stood silently at his back, and with the heavy coulter of a plough, beat in his skull, and repeated his blows until his benefactor was lying a mangled corse upon the snow. Rock is the boy to make the fun stir!!!'"'

This may be "fun" to Mr Moore, and to the people of equally refined sensibility, who can groan over the evils of Ireland while they consist of keeping a factious barrister out of a silk gown, and laugh loud, and make merry and conceited jests, over the exploits of cannibal assassins.

It may be fun to such people as these: but what is it but a subject of the most serious, the most awful solemnity, in the eyes of every one who deserves the name either of good subject, or good Christian, or good man. With sorrow, with bitter sorrow and indignation, has it been contemplated by the author of the volume before us; and the way in which he has taken up the Rocks and the Moores, the ragamuffins and the sycophants, by whose exertions, so beautifully combined, Ireland is ruined, and Britain endangered, entitles him not merely to the praise of cleverness, eloquence, and so forth it does a great deal more: his book places him-we have no hesitatation in speaking it clearly and broad

ly-his book places him on a level with the very first political writers of our time.

The book is far from being a mere answer to Tommy Moore: an answer to him it is, and that with a vengeance: but it is easy to see, that the respondent feels himself too immeasurably above the petty assailant. A single blow every now and then lays the flattering puuster and versifier on his back, and then, scarcely deigning to observe his demolition, the man of Munster plunges into the warfare, not of witticisms, but of principles: he corrects Moore's false statements in a style of the most painful pungency; but he does not stop there. He attacks the principles which the author of Fanny of Timmol dared no more than to insinuate: he cuts up root and branch the tree of prejudice and assumption, under the shade of which, the great absentee landlords of Ireland (Moore's masters) hope to continue their own enjoyments-no matter what be the scape-goat. He, in one word, shews the real root of the evils of Ireland-and he dares, what no one before has done, to lay before the world a scheme for its eradication, a scheme which may or may not be the right and the practicable one, but which has, at all events, the merits of being distinct, clear, intelligible; and which the author of it expounds, illustrates, and enforces, in a style of firm, manly, and philosophical disquisition, second, certainly, to nothing that has appeared since the death of his illustrious countryman-Burke.

This praise, which at first sight must appear extravagant, could not perhaps be completely justified to our readers, without a greater mass of quotation than we can at present conveniently find room for. We shall try, however, what may be done in the way of ex pede Herculem, and we shall endeavour to quote one specimen at least, of each of the various, but all excellent styles, in which this author destroys Moore, and discusses Ireland.

His great and standard position is: that the rapacity of the Irish landlords is the real and fundamental source of all the miseries of the Irish population. That misery, as was shewn at length in a late number of this Magazine, by Y. Y. Y., is confined to the agricultural population alone-the people in the towns are all

well off-the manufacturing poor are happy-the peasantry only are in want, and disaffection with them alone, can plead the agony of hunger for its excuse. So much is written on this topic in the volume before us, that we do not very well know where to choose; but, to begin, turn to p. 327, where, in the course of discussing the Societies lately established in Ireland for fisheries, agricultural improvements, &c., our Farmer has these observations :

"These societies proceed, with respect to the poor, on the same principles which guide a speculative neighbour of mine in the management of his horses. He holds, that corn is an unnecessary luxury for them, and that good grooming will keep them sleek and healthy; and, although declining, he still maintains, that his failure their coats are staring and their strength is owing to some occult and undiscoverable cause, and will rather, I believe, keep the poor animals in a state in which they are quite unprofitable, than accommodate himself to the vulgar notion, that they should be fed as well as curried. Everybody knows, that the best way to improve the condition of the poor, is to give effect, as Malthus says, to the desire of improve ment; and how to do this without letting in some hope upon them, I am utterly unable to comprehend. The society says, white-wash your house, plant a garden around it, get bee-hives, have your chil dren taught to spin, &c. &c., and we will encourage and reward you;' and perhaps the individuals who constitute the society, may be among the persons who say, in the form of an exorbitant rent, All your im provements are for my advantage, and even the prizes by which you may be rewarded The grand argushall surely be mine. ment which I have heard put forward to gain over the support of the gentry to these various societies is, that they may be instrumental in enabling the tenantry to pay their rents; that is, to pay higher rents than they are at present able to make of the ground. I knew a case where a highminded and very intelligent man ventured to move, as an amendment to some resolution by which a premium was offered, that the premium should not be granted to any tenant who was subject to an exorbitant rent. 'We all know,' said he, that in such a case, the tenant will derive no benefit, as the prize will become part of the rent; and that the landlord will thus have his rapacity rewarded and encouraged by a bounty intended for the benefit of the poor. It will be easy,' he added, to ascertain the cases, in which it may be advisable to extend this encouragement. Being, as we are, an agricultural body, we

can have no difficulty in pronouncing, from our knowledge of any farm, whether the rent demanded for it be excessive or not; and if it be, I think we are called upon, by a regard for the real interests of the poor and of the country, to refuse our sanction to the exercise of a rapacious spirit, which such premiums as you are offering may have a tendency to increase and to perpetuate.' It is perhaps unnecessary to stare, that the amendment was negatived. It was considered monstrous to extend the inquiries of the society into any consideration of landlords' oppressions, and the interests of the poor were to be no farther regarded, than was compatible with the untroubled aggressions of the privileged orders.

"Another instance of the same reverence for the higher classes, I cannot pass unnoticed. One of these societies, taking into account the demand which corn buyers made for what they called beamage,' (although they gave the seller the benefit of it in a higher price,) determined to put a stop to it, as an illegal exaction, and, I be lieve, succeeded, with great eclat. This was all right; it simplified the business of buying and selling. But in the town where this society held its meetings, there were charges made by the corporation which every one knew to be illegal, and which were urged to the real loss of the poor-not as in the case of the beamage and yet no one member of this association would attempt-I believe I am wrong-I believe a member shewed how easily they could succeed but certainly the association would not put one finger to the sore part of the head of the corporation;' and he, in consequence, derives the benefit of his illegal exactions, which are levied upon the poor, day after day, in the presence of an association instituted for their protection and improvement.

"I speak here of no other societies than those of whose merits a farmer may be competent to judge. There are societies for the encouragement of fisheries, &c. &c.; and all of these may, perhaps, serve the country, not only by introducing new wealth amongst us, but by lightening the pressure of the population on agricultural employment. There are others for the cultivation of waste lands; and of the propriety of their objects, I have great doubts. If there could be any assurance given that the tenantry of these waste lands should grow so familiar with comforts, that they would feel a dread and a shame of bringing chil

dren into a world where their portion is likely to be wretchedness, the lands might be turned to good account; but if the po pulation of them is to be of the same kind with that from which the principal evils of the present day arise, then, I think wise men should hesitate long before they would, in order to procure a slight temporary relief, lend themselves to a measure which would be silently, but certainly, accumulating the materials for future convulsions. But as to the agricultural societies for improving the condition of the poor, they MUST fail, and they OUGHT to fail; because, while the rents continue what they are at present, the people distinctly understand, that, for every new power developed in them, an additional burden will be imposed upon them. When Sampson ground in the mill for the Philistines, he was blind; and if the associations could deprive our people of understanding, perhaps they might succeed in strengthening them for their lord's advantage; but so long as they see that their increased skill can add little or nothing to their comforts, they will remain indocile and discontented, and will not think it a sufficient reward for their toils, that they have been the means of sending a new aspirant for the dignity of absenteeship to the luxury for which he pines, and that they have procured for themselves the power to run to the apertures of their miserable hovels, and stare at the splendid equipage in which a new agent is glancing gloriously by.

"I do not mean to say, that these associations, frivolous as their objects are, may not be of some random utility to the country; but I own my spirit has sometimes been grievously stirred when I have seen the manner in which they have been converted into a means of misleading public opinion as to the causes of Irish wretchededness. I have heard landlords and ladies, who, if they thought for an instant, must have knowu that they were themselves the real cause why the people suffered, direct the attention of the members of the associations to matters totally unconnected with the general distress. Now, don't you think, that the Church establishment is a horrid bore? Don't you think, that three thousand a-year is a great deal too much for any pair of lawn sleeves; and could not the parsons live a very comfortable life, and keep good wives, that would nurse their pigs, and wash their children's faces very well, if we allowed them three hundred pounds ?' And who are the people who

thus dogmatize, with such a flippant and pragmatical philosophy? Frequently they are persons who have strained the exertions of their wretched tenantry until the instruments of torture have snapped; who have been maintaining a shadowy affectation of finery in circles where they were admitted to a kind of scornful toleration, and, in order to sustain the appearance which procured for them permission thus to attend at the threshold of honour, have been wringing from the hearts of their forlorn dependants the humble comforts which had been so hardly earned; and who, when oppression could procure no more, returned with the stern grasp of necessity upon them, and imported themselves, with their poverty and their peevishness, in return for the large revenue they send annually away for the satisfaction of their creditors in England. Oh, this dreadful absenteeship! Who has ever looked upon a group of the peasantry of Ireland, and has not mourned for their desertion? And to think of the love and the homage from which our absentees fly away! I well remember when the name of would have sent a trumpet tone into all hearts within the limits of an extensive county. I remember well, when there needed but that name to rouse, into any action of labour or of peril, as fearless and as gallant a host as ever the sun looked down upon. And he who could thus wield at will' the energies of a fine people, before whom, I am convinced, if danger assailed him, ten thousand men would have made a wall of their dead bodies, rejected the godlike office, to which he seemed called, of being the benefactor of such multitudes, for the effeminate and debasing pleasures that alienated him from all good; and now, even in the neighbourhood of his magnificent but desolate mansion, his name is associated with evil, and pronounced in a tone that seems the very echo of disappointed hopes and affections. Oh! miserable, miserable Ireland! when will thy children cease to leave thy distresses unknown, that they may furnish weapons for purposes of vulgar hostility? When will those persons whose names could stamp truth with authority, desist from attempts at misdirecting public opinion, and state honestly and fully what they know to be the causes of your distress? When shall your people be rescued from the oppressions and extortions that have made them wicked and miserable, and that keep them desperate and unimproveable? I cannot speak with authority. I can gain for my assertions no passport to public favour; and therefore they may pass into oblivion unregarded; but still, I will perform my duty faithfully, and state what I consider as one of the greatest evils, arising out of absenteeship, by which our peasantry and our country are afflicted.

"When I mentioned the grievance of excessive rents, I did not mean to say, that

every landlord was an oppressor. Many landlords there are who have entitled themselves to all praise; but their efforts are rendered comparatively useless by the greater number of those who are the devourers of their people. In the same manner, I do not mean to say that all agents are to be condemned; but that the conduct of the great majority (at least the majority of such as I have known) is in the highest degree to be reprobated. In some instances, the agency system is to blame for the evils which originate in it; in others, the agents are the causes of evil. It needs no sagacity to discern, that, in those cases where the agents live at a considerable distance from the estates they are to manage, the evils of their non-residence must be sensibly felt. These gentlemen appoint a particular day on which they will attend to receive the rents; and it is not to be expected that persons who never visit the property (as is frequently the case) can be acquainted with the proper objects for indulgence, and can know in what cases they should press their demands. Englishmen can hardly appre ciate the importance of a little judicious indulgence to an Irish tenantry, and may not readily comprehend how many a poor man is ruined for the want of a resident agent, of a better order than the bailiffs usually employed, to receive his rent in small portions, as he gathers it at the various markets.

"But, passing by this misfortune, an evil owing principally to the exorbitancy of the rents, which leave so little means for procuring comforts to the peasantry, that they may be continually under the temptation of appropriating to their own use some of that income which is the landlord's due; omitting altogether the grievance which arises from their not being well watched, I have a heavier charge against the agents. The grievance attending the collection of rents is light, in comparison with those which arise out of the mode of letting farms. If the agents were persons unacquainted with the value of lands, (and no such persons ought to be agents,) and if this were a country in which there was no more than a fair competition for land, it might be said that the mode of setting, by advertising for proposals, needed not to be chan ged. But here, the agents know perfectly well what the rents ought to be, and they know equally well that the peasantry are disposed to offer more. Why then is it, that they require private proposals ? Is it that their employers doubt their integrity, and leave a hapless peasantry exposed to the peculation of men whom they would not depend on where they are themselves directly concerned? Or have the landlords confidence in them; and is it at the suggestion of the agents the mode of accepting proposals is adopted? I do not know-but I know what the consequences have been.

I know that a peasant never thinks of making his approach to an agent without a bribe in his hand; I know that honest agents are shocked, and the great mass of agents enriched by this nefarious traffic; I know that peasants consult their friends about the amount of the bribe to be offered, as well as about the rent to be proposed; and I know that bribes more than equivalent to the abatements desired have been offered and accepted by the agents who procured them; I know, too, that more than a due proportion of oppression falls on the peasantry from these trading agents; they receive bribes from wealthy middlemen as well as from the poor, but they are obliged to give full value to the former, who might tell disagreeable tales; and they make the poor wretches, whose complaints they hold lightly, suffer for the indulgences which they must grant to those whose stories might be credited.

"These oppressions I do not hesitate to say, are main causes of the misery, and powerful excitements of the discontented spirit which reigns amongst our people; and while they continue, I am sure there can be no comfort; and, but for the immorality of the desire, I could wish that there might not be tranquillity in Ireland."

The following is from an earlier part of the volume; but may be considered here with considerable effect. It is but an echantellon, however.

"The people of England have a ready mode of judging whether the Irish gentry are proper protectors of the poor, or serviceable intervenients between the monarch and the mass of his subjects-such intervenients as may be most likely to link the people with the laws. Let them judge from this;-at a former period, it was in the power of the gentry to free the lower orders from the tithe-proctor's vexations, and, by suffering the tithe of agistment to continue, they might have had a system free from all the objections that may fairly be urged against having the impost principally levied upon the poor. The gentry saved themselves, and left the poor and the proctor to settle matters by law or by agreement, or by blood, just as their mutual interests or their mutual animosities prompted. In the year 1824 they have the power, without increasing the amount of taxation on the land, to rescue the poor from those vampires (as they are called) to whom they had formerly abandoned them; and, instead of adopting this salutary measure, or shewing by fair arguments why they do not, they have the provisions of the act for composition misrepresented, and a clamour raised against it, as if its object were to in

6

crease the income of the Church, and to reimpose the tithe of agistment. I have not time here to enlarge upon the nature or provisions of the tithe composition act: one word, however, concerning the principles on which the gentry oppose it. Why,' (asks the writer of the letter to Mr Abercrombie,) should the gentry surrender their legal rights, where the people obtain no equivalent advantages ?' I can see no reason why they should; and I have no doubt that there are cases in which the amount of composition is so high, as that the adoption of the measure could not serve the people. But, if the amount be such as to allow a considerable reduction in the rate which the people must otherwise pay, then I believe it will be admitted, that the gentry might abate something of their legal claims for their own profit, and for the benefit of the people whose protectors they style themselves. That this is the case over the greater part of Munster, it is not difficult to shew.

*

"It is to be observed, that, in the charge for tithe, there is, generally speaking, a division adopted, according to which there are three rates of payment. I have never known tithe of the best quality pay more than 12s., and I have frequently known the charge for the third quality to be so low as 4s.; and, on the whole, as well as I could form a judgment, the average of payments, during the seven years ending in 1821, was less than nine shillings to the acre. During this period, according to the average of prices, wheat, the article (the tithe of which I am considering) sold for L.1, 18s. 8d. the barrel; and, allowing the average produce to be, what we stated be. fore, 7 barrels, the return of an acre would exceed fourteen pounds ten shillings, and the market price of the tithe would be one pound nine; allow 2s. for the difference between the market and the field price, and the value of the tithe would be twentyseven shillings; that is, would amount to three times the parson's charge! Should it not, then, be reasonable to expect, that the gentry would give up something, in order that, for eighteen years, it might be secured to them by law, that the charge for tithe should be equal to less than the thirtieth part of the produce? Supposing that, for three years, the parson was paid more than he should have, according to the old system, might not this over-payment be regarded as the fair purchase of the eighteen years which were to follow 2 Even on a supposition, that, for the twenty-one years, the prices of grain were to remain what they were last year, when wheat brought not more than L.1 a-barrel, the parish, by allowing the parson nine shillings an acre