[39]. An ancient law still appears among the statutes of Ireland to prohibit the natives of that country from using the words Crum-a-boo, and Butler-a-hoo, as being the watchwords of two most troublesome hostile factions, which kept, at the period of the prohibition, the whole nation in a state of uproar. In my mind, a revival of that salutary enactment would not be amiss just now. A similar case (as regards the existing state of things) may be easily made out; and, as we lawyers say, “like case like rule.” As the statute is still upon our books, there is a precedent at hand, and it will only be necessary to amend it by changing the two terms Crum-a-boo and Butler-a-hoo, into Ascendancy-a-boo and Emancipation-a-hoo! The penalty for raising these cries might be the treadmill; and there can be little doubt that so wholesome a measure would speedily tranquillise the country, and save a good deal of rope, some anatomising, and the turning religion into a subject for debating societies.
I firmly believe England now means well and honourably to the Irish nation on all points, but I think she is totally mistaken as to measures. Neither honourable intentions, nor Sunday-schools, nor the four rules of arithmetic, nor Bible societies, can preserve people from starving: education is a very good thing in its proper place, but a sorry substitute for food; and I know the Irish well enough to say they never will be taught peace upon an empty stomach. Work creates industry, and industry produces the means of averting hunger; and when they have work enough and food enough, are permitted to dance on Sundays, and fight once a year, they may be turned to any thing. I speak, of course, of the lowest orders: the class immediately above those is now very unmanageable, because it is supported by its starving inferiors, who depend upon it alone for subsistence—the higher being absent. The nature and materials of the present species of Irish constitution appear to me totally unadapted to the necessities of that country. The Union never should have existed, or it should have been more perfect:—no half-mounted government can ever rule Ireland.
It is but too obvious that the natural attachment which ought to subsist between Great Britain and Ireland is not increasing, though on the due cultivation of that attachment so entirely depends the strength, the peace, and the prosperity of the United Empire; yet I fearlessly repeat that, in my mind, the English members of the imperial parliament mean well by Ireland, and only require to ascertain her true circumstances to act for her tranquillisation. Politically they may be sure that the imperium in imperio, as at present operating in that country, is not calculated to reform it. The protecting body of the country gentlemen have evacuated Ireland, and in their stead we now find official clerks, griping agents, haughty functionaries, proud clergy, and agitating demagogues. The resident aristocracy of Ireland, if not quite extinguished, is hourly diminishing; and it is a political truism, that the co-existence of an oligarchy without a cabinet; a resident executive and an absent legislature; tenants without landlord, and magistracy without legal knowledge;[[40]] must be, from its nature, a form of constitution at once incongruous, inefficient, and dangerous. Nobody can appreciate the native loyalty of the Irish people better than his present Majesty, whose reception in Ireland was enthusiastic: they adored him when he left it; and amidst millions of reputed rebels he wanted no protection: every man would have been his life-guard! I speak not however of corporations or guilds—of gourmands, or city feasters: these have spoken for themselves, and loudly too. His Majesty’s wise and paternal orders were ridiculed and disobeyed by them the very moment his back was turned! With such folks the defunct King William seems more popular than the living King George.[[41]]
[40]. I allude here more particularly to the clerical justices of Ireland. I believe I only coincide with some of the first English lawyers of this day, in maintaining that clergymen should confine themselves to spiritual and charitable duties, in doing justice to which ample occupation would be afforded them.
[41]. I lately met rather a noted corporator of Dublin in Paris. Of course I did not spare my interrogations as to the existing state of things; and in the course of conversation I asked why, after the king’s visit to Dublin, and his conciliatory admonitions, the corporation still appeared to prefer the Boyne Water and King William? “Lord bless you, Sir Jonah! (replied the corporator) as for the wather, we don’t care a rap dam about that; but if we once gave up ould King William, we’d give up all our plisures! Only for the ‘glorious mimory’ we would not have a toast now to get drunk with—eh! Sir Jonah? ha! ha! ha!” To humour the corporator, I did not hesitate to join in the hearty laugh which he set up in satisfaction at his own waggery.
Sound government, and the sufferance of active local factions are, in my view of things, utterly incompatible. Faction and fanaticism (no matter on which side ranged) ought to be put down to the ground—gently, if possible; but if a strong hand be necessary, it should not be withheld. In Ireland it has now proceeded too far to be longer blinked at. The British cabinet may be somewhat divided; but they will soon see the imperative necessity of firmness and unanimity. It is shameful that the whole empire should thus be kept in a state of agitation by the pretended theological animosities of two contending sects—a great proportion of whose respective partisans are in no way influenced by religion, the true object of their controversy being “who shall get the uppermost.” It is a struggle that cannot continue. There is a “tide” in the affairs of empires as well as of individuals: every fever has a crisis. Ireland is in one now. I am no factionist, I am no fanatic: I am the partisan only of tranquillity in the country where I drew my first breath.
I learn from Ireland with great pleasure—indeed, I read of general satisfaction being experienced at one of the ablest lawyers and most decisive, moderate, and unbiassed public functionaries of England having been presented as a head to my profession:—’tis a good beginning:—ça ira!