Perhaps the preface to this paper seems unduly prolonged, but the reader must bear with it somewhat further, as it is necessary.
An objector may say to me that I have no right to speak for my fellow Irish Churchmen en masse, as regards their relations with their Roman Catholic fellow countrymen. Well, in answer to such an [pg 452] objection, which may be natural enough, there are several replies. I intend to speak from my own first-hand, definite, personal, life-long experiences, such as they have been. And is not the inference sufficiently fair and logical that others of my clerical brethren, similarly situated, have had just the same, or much the same, experiences if they would record them? I do not claim that our Roman Catholic neighbours have been kinder to me than to other Protestant clergy. Testimony from us in the South and West of Ireland is more valuable than testimony from Ulster. In Leinster, Munster and Connaught, we are brought more directly and distinctly face to face with the Roman Church. She has a dominant, nay, a pre-dominant position in these three provinces, and yet I hold that this vast numerical superiority of position does not lead to intolerant or unkindly action. I believe that there is far more real kindly feeling and kindly intercourse between Protestants and Roman Catholics in these Irish provinces than there is in Ulster—and, therefore, I maintain that Irish Protestant Churchmen who live in these provinces, have a far better right to judge and speak of the relative attitude of the two churches than the people of Ulster. For we, who do so live, have a larger knowledge and experience and outlook than the men of Ulster, whose views are in every sense narrower—geographically, politically and religiously. They indeed need to be reminded of the German proverb: “Hinter dem Berge sind auch Leute” (Behind the mountains there are also people). We all need to study this saying. Behind the mountains of our knowledge, of our civilisation, of our success and activity; behind the mountains, let us also say, of our ignorance, of our pride and prejudice, of our contempt—there are also men.
Of course it is much pleasanter to be able to feel kindly and to speak kindly of the great majority of one's fellow-countrymen if it can be done truthfully, as we believe it can—than to have to say and do the contrary. Even allowing for a certain element of unreality and exaggeration and insincerity, is not the uniform tone of too many political speeches much too violent and even occasionally too vitriolic? But I have little or no temptation to err in this respect, as the bulk of what remains to be said in this paper is chiefly concerned with facts. Two years after my ordination, the Fenian Rising occurred; this took place in 1867. I saw something of it, not of the Fenians themselves, but of the flying columns which were then scouring the country in pursuit of them. The police barrack at Kilmallock was attacked, and Protestant gentry living near Kilfinane in the same county, viz., Limerick, left their houses for several nights and took refuge with the Constabulary. There was at that time living at Kilfinane as rector, the Rev. George Wren. He was, as a clergyman, greatly beloved and respected. When some of his parishioners, most of them gentry, were leaving their homes for police protection, the Roman Catholic farmers in the parish waited on the Rev. George Wren at the rectory, and begged and intreated of him not to leave it, assuring him that “no one should lay a wet finger” on him or any member of his family. In consequence of this interview the Rev. Mr. Wren held his ground, and was the only Protestant gentleman in the immediate district who did so. It was exceedingly creditable to him, and to the deputation who waited on him. I have never forgotten this incident.
I remember well the excitement produced in Irish church circles by Mr. Gladstone's Church Act in 1869 [pg 454] and 1870; how it was denounced, condemned and deplored; how it was described as fraught with wreck and ruin to Protestant interests. One clerical speaker warned Queen Victoria that she might have “her Crown kicked into the Boyne” (if she gave her Royal assent), as James II. had. A friend of my own, a captain in the Army, assured me he was prepared to wade knee-deep in blood to fight the Bill.
We are not unaccustomed to politicians of this type even now! Well, Mr. Gladstone passed his Church Act, which has proved in many respects a great blessing to the Irish Church. She gained self-action and independence thereby; her finances have been so skilfully administered and the liberality of her members has been so great that she has now a realised capital of over nine millions! It is estimated that for her numbers she is, in money, the richest Church in Christendom. None of us who belong to her would revert, were the offer open to us, to the state of her condition and circumstances prior to 1869—“Out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong came forth sweetness.” How true that parable of Samson's has often proved with regard to changes which were, at first, denounced and dreaded, and afterwards regarded with gratitude! Generally, the effect produced on Irish public opinion by Mr. Gladstone's Church Act, on the whole, was in time beneficial. It removed what was at least a “sentimental grievance” from Roman Catholics. It also taught them before very long that the Church of Ireland could exist as a voluntary institution; and some Nationalists from time to time have even said that the efficient and capable management of the Representative Church Body of the Church funds was an object lesson in favour of Home Rule.
Every one at all familiar with this subject knows that 1881 was a very terrible year in Ireland; it is unnecessary to enlarge upon the painful fact. Then, or thereabouts, I went to see a land-agent whose life had several times been attempted. It was in the summer; he was writing at a tall, stand-up desk, on the upper ledge of which lay a revolver. I sat down by an open window to enjoy the fresh air, from which he immediately pulled me away and deposited me in a corner of the room under shelter of a wall, not of glass. Presently we adjourned to the dining-room for lunch. This was also an arsenal or place of arms; a double-barrelled gun lay on a sofa. When my friend opened a press to obtain “the materials”—Irishmen will know what is meant—I saw therein a brace of horse-pistols. After lunch we went out for a walk, my friend carrying his gun under his arm, and, I suppose, his revolver in his pocket. A policeman armed with a loaded rifle, followed a few yards in our rear. Life under such circumstances could not have been very agreeable. Would anyone like to revert to it? Surely not. In the same year I was visiting an Irish landlord who was very seriously ill; his home was about four miles distant from my glebe house; sometimes I had to go to see him by night. One morning the doctor, who had been with the patient for several hours, was anxiously inquired of by the ladies of the family how their father was. “Well, all I have to say to you,” said the doctor, “is, that you may be very thankful that your father is allowed to die quietly in his bed such times as these.”
Well, what has improved such terrible times? Has it not been remedial legislation in different directions—legislation respecting the Church, the Land, and Education. Yet in all such cases remedial [pg 456] legislation has been initially denounced by a certain party as “Socialism,” “Sacrilege,” or by some equally strong expletive. And yet, what has been the result of these so-called “Socialistic” and “Sacrilegious” measures? Has it not, on the whole, and in the main, been good, decidedly and undeniably good? Let us apply our Blessed Lord's text: “By their fruits ye shall know them.” “Can any man gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles?” So, then, when I look back to these past painful experiences, and see how all proposed remedial legislation was, in the first instance, denounced and vilified, and when I recall how the results in time have refuted all the prophets of evil, I am quite inclined to say, is not the balance of evidence in favour of the view that something very much the same will be the case, and will happen with Home Rule? It is now constantly described by one leader as “A Nefarious Conspiracy.” Of course, different Parliamentary orators have their own favourite vocabularies, but is it not very much a case of:
“All now is wrangle, abuse and vociferance.”
“One is incisive, corrosive;
Two retorts nettled, curt, crepitant;