Referring again to the speech from the throne as the text for the parliamentary campaign, we find the Navigation Laws specially marked out either for modification or repeal. This subject having been fully dealt with in our July Number, we offer no further remarks upon the policy which dictated such a plan; indeed, no remarks are necessary, for since then the measure has been postponed. This is a sorry result for ministers; for although they plead, in justification, that other important business had prevented them from forcing on the consideration of this very serious question, their protestations do not seem to satisfy the gentlemen who are most clamorous against the shipping interest of Britain. It has been more than hinted in certain quarters, that this postponement is a small stroke of Whig policy or prudence, for the purpose of keeping alive as long as possible a theme of dissension among the Conservatives. We offer no opinion as to this conjecture, which may be substantially true or not. Certain it is that the proposal for the repeal of those laws has been encountered, outside of the House of Commons, with a storm of disapprobation; and that, if the feeling of the public, as opposed to the interests of the exporters, has any weight with the legislature, the ministerial bill will be strangled before it can receive the royal assent. So great was the anxiety displayed, that on the day after it became known in Glasgow that the bill was not to be pushed forward this session, every vessel in the Clyde was decorated with flags, in token of thankfulness for the respite. We hope that every advantage will be taken in the interval to force upon the attention of parliament the resolution of the well-affected people of this country, to maintain intact that law which has been the source of our naval supremacy, and which was declared, by no less an authority than Adam Smith, to be as wise as if it had been dictated by the most deliberate wisdom.
A considerable number of minor bills have been quietly allowed to drop. This is not matter of lamentation, for, as far as we could comprehend the principle of most of them, they were utterly worthless and uncalled for. The Bill for the Removal of the Jewish Disabilities was, we rejoice to say, thrown out in the House of Lords, the peers being of opinion that the British Legislature should continue a Christian assembly. Lord John, in the plenitude of his zeal for the Sanhedrim, gave notice of a motion for altering the form of the oaths required to be taken by each member of Parliament at his admission, and so introducing the Jew by a convenient little postern. But somehow or other, as the session progressed, the ardour of the Premier cooled, and Baron Rothschild is at present left with as little chance of adorning the benches of St Stephens as ever. Mr Joseph Hume and his party have got up a radical alliance, for the extension of the suffrage and various other organic schemes, and it was understood that Sir Joshua Walmsley was to have the honour of leading the movement. Unfortunately, however, before the day of debate had arrived, Sir Joshua had been unseated in consequence of certain acts of bribery which had taken place in connexion with the borough of Leicester, so that the purists had to march to battle under the chieftainship of the veteran of Montrose. They were beaten hollow: but at a later period of the session, the carelessness of ministers gave a temporary triumph to the same parties, resolutions in favour of the ballot having been passed by a small majority. This vote is of no importance whatever, save in so far as it demonstrates the utter helplessness of the Whigs when left to their own resources.
Whilst upon the subject of shelving, let us remark that the Scottish Registration and Marriage Bills have shared a similar fate. Of this we are devoutly glad. Not a single petition has been presented in their favour; and though no doubt the registration of births, and a stricter law of marriage, may be desirable, we think it might be quite possible to accomplish both objects, without creating a new and expensive staff of functionaries, or holding forth a prospect of entire immunity to seduction. Possibly at a later period we may take an opportunity of examining these postponed measures in detail.
Two more questions remain, and then the history of the session is ended. They are of vast importance—Ireland, and our foreign policy.
The opening of the session found Ireland in a state of agrarian outrage. Agitation was doing its work, and murder was rife on every hand. Foremost in stirring up the people, most determined in hounding them on, were the Roman Catholic priesthood; and we trust that this fact will not be forgotten by those who are now meditating to buy their silence. Individuals were openly denounced from the altar, and next day shot down by the assassin. The most seditious language was used by these cassocked traitors towards the British government; and even the higher dignitaries of their church sought to stimulate the passions of the populace by the most barefaced and impudent misrepresentation. Hear Archdeacon Laffan at Cashel, upon a Sunday, surrounded by some fifteen thousand of the peasantry, and backed by that notable worthy, Mr John O’Connell, and three other members of Parliament—“The Saxon scoundrel, with his bellyful of Irish meat, could very well afford to call his poor, honest, starving fellow-countrymen savages and assassins; but if in the victualling department John Bull suffered one-fifth of the privations to which the Tipperary men were subject, if he had courage enough, he would stand upon one side, and shoot the first man he could meet with a decent coat on his back—(Cheers.) But the Saxon had not courage to do any thing like a man; he growls out like a hungry tiger!” At the time when this expositor of the Christian doctrine was raving to his miserable flock, the following was the condition of the Established clergy. One of them, writing from King’s County, described his position—“For nearly twenty years I have been a minister of the Established Church; and during that time I have had nothing whatever to do with tithes, for my benefice is a chapelry of £90 a-year, and is paid partly out of land set apart for the purpose, and partly by the ecclesiastical commissioners of Ireland, from a fund bequeathed to small livings by Primate Boulter.” He had devoted much attention to the employment of the poor; had never shown favour or partiality to any one sect; had lived simply, and attended to his duties; had never brought an ejectment, or taken any other law proceedings, against a tenant. “What, then,” continued he, “was my surprise and horror to find an assassin lying in wait for me for three successive days; and—for this is still more horrifying—that most of the people of the neighbourhood where I live have been so far from expressing joy at the escape I have made, that they show evident disappointment at my not being shot!”
We have often marvelled what must be the impression of foreigners after reading such speeches as are usually delivered at an Irish assembly, by men who cannot plead utter ignorance in extenuation of the language they employ. They must, we presume, imagine that “the Saxon” has taken forcible possession of the whole of Ireland; that the natives are no better than serfs—unprotected by any laws, and liable to be beaten, plundered, and massacred at the pleasure of the invaders; that, on the approach of each harvest, hordes of the Saxons repair to the fertile fields of the Celt, reap them with a sickle in the one hand and a musket in the other, and then carry off the produce, without leaving a single doit in reparation. He would imagine that the women are forced, the men defrauded, and the houses pillaged at pleasure; that the Roman Catholics are hunted down like wild beasts, by armies of bloodthirsty Protestants; that the exercise of their faith is denied them; and that they are allowed no voice whatever in the national representation. Some such conception as this he must form from the harangues which have constituted the staple of Conciliation Hall for more years than we care to reckon. But what would be his amazement were he told that Ireland is governed by precisely the same laws as the sister country; that property is equally protected, and life endangered only by the brutality of the Celtic assassin; that Ireland is specially exempted from several of the taxes which press most heavily upon the industrious classes of Great Britain; that on the last occasion of famine, upwards of nine millions of public, and a vast amount of private money, was given for the support of her poor; that Roman Catholic colleges have been munificently endowed; that Ireland has her full share of representation in the imperial Parliament, and that upwards of one half of the time of the House of Commons is occupied with measures tending to the amelioration of the Irish people! If he were told all this—and it is no more than the naked truth—what would be his astonishment? And yet so it is. Ireland has persisted, and is persisting, in her course of sedition without a grievance, of murder without provocation, of black and brutal ingratitude without even the shadow of an excuse!
It is impossible to find language too strong to characterise the guilt of the individuals, lay or clerical, who have spent the better part of their mean and mischievous existence in misleading their rude and ignorant fellow-countrymen. They are the moral nuisances who have always stood in the way of Ireland’s progression and happiness. But for them, there would have been no absenteeism, no heart-burning between the landlord and the tenant. The people would gradually have learned habits of industry and providence, and instead of whooping through the country like maniacs, shouting and yelling for repeal, which if granted, would make an utter hell of Ireland, they would be tilling the ground, or usefully employed in the development of that capital which no one dare hazard at present in their mad and turbulent districts. For all these things we do not blame, but execrate O’Connell and his tribe. The grasping selfishness of that family has for the last few years been the greatest curse to Ireland; and the crimes of other and inferior agitators shrink into insignificance, compared with the moral turpitude of the men who have deliberately fattened upon their country’s ruin.
Mr John O’Connell, having previously declared his intention of dying on the floor of the House of Commons rather than permit the passing of a Coercion Bill to restrain his countrymen from murder, did in effect make his appearance in St Stephens, but by no means with a suicidal intention. One of his earliest speeches is worth preserving, as it exhibits, in a most extraordinary degree, the hereditary power of mendicancy. “If they had a reverence for human life, let them extend it to the people of Ireland. Give money. He asked for money. He heard the laughter of honourable gentlemen; but he could tell them that they ought to give money, and that it was their duty to do so. Charge them for the money if they liked, but at all events let them save the lives of the people. He did not expect to be met otherwise than with laughter; and he was bound to say that he never saw in that House one single real thought for the interest of Ireland. (Great laughter.) He begged to say, that he had made that remark hastily and hotly, but now he repeated it deliberately and coolly. Whenever the interests of Ireland came into competition with those of England, they were invariably sacrificed. And if he did ask money, had he not a right to do so? In a few nights a motion would come on, and then he would prove that they owed it!” No man certainly ever did more credit to his profession. Brought up under the most able instructor of his age in the art of begging, John O’Connell exhibited on this occasion talents of the highest order, which would have made his fortune on the highway, unless some stray traveller should have mistaken the intentions of the suppliant, and been over ready with his pistol to prevent an anticipated robbery. The vile ingratitude of this man is almost equal to his audacity. Great Britain, without the slightest hope of any return, had impoverished herself for the support of the Irish, and yet here was the whole acknowledgment! Even on the score of policy it would have been wiser for Mr O’Connell to have mitigated his tone.
The Irish Crime and Outrage Bill was introduced by ministers at an early stage of the session, with the general concurrence of all parties. No one could doubt that it was especially needed, but few were sanguine that it would suffice to cure the spirit of disaffection which was abroad. In fact, Irish agitation has been allowed to proceed to such a point, that the evil is utterly incurable. What chance is there of putting a stop to physical force demonstrations, or, in other words, to open rebellion, whilst another gang of demagogues is permitted to preach sedition under the guise of moral force, and to fill the minds of their deluded victims with every species of misrepresentation and wild hostility to Great Britain? Our system of government towards Ireland has been timid and weak, and we are now paying the penalty. Our charities have been given with far too liberal a hand. Ireland has but had to ask, in order to be relieved by the public money: and this process has been so often repeated, that what at first was an extraordinary boon, is now considered in the light of an indefeasible claim. The Irish peasant will not work, will do nothing to better his own position, because he believes that, in his hour of need, he will be supported by British alms. We wish we could believe that this scandalous and sordid spirit was confined to the peasantry alone. It is not so. A general scramble takes place on each fresh issue of bounty, and rich and poor, high and low, among the repealers, press clamorously forward for their share. Never was money more absurdly, more mischievously misapplied, than the great government grants on occasion of the famine. Had the proposals of Lord George Bentinck been agreed to, and the money given by way of loan for construction of the Irish railroads, not only would the government have held some security for repayment, or, at all events, a vested interest in the works, but a useful improvement would have been effected in the heart of the country, and a new element of civilisation introduced. But the scheme was rejected, for no other reason, we believe, than because it was suggested by a political opponent, and the millions granted by Britain have been squandered in making good roads bad, in trenching mosses, draining waste lands, and what not. The expenditure has been lost to this country, and has not had the effect of awakening the slightest spark of gratitude or respect for the quarter whence it came. Ireland must be disabused on one point. These grants are not annual, and cannot be continued. The time has come when Ireland must be put upon precisely the same footing of taxation with the sister kingdoms—she must be forced to forego pauperism, and in future to rely on her industry, and on her own resources. Ireland is at least four times as fertile in soil as Scotland, and there can be no reason whatever why she should be exempt from burdens which apply to the latter, and moreover, like a sturdy beggar, be for ever vociferous for relief.
The Crime and Outrage Bill in some degree fulfilled its purpose; for open murder and assassination, if not extinguished, were somewhat diminished throughout the winter. Still the work of sedition progressed. Old and Young Ireland, ruffians both, were at loggerheads—the older section finding a profit in the shape of the weekly rent, the younger and more conscientious one thirsting for the hour when the dogs of rebellion might be let loose. The French revolution found Ireland in this state, and no doubt aided to precipitate the crisis. The visions of mere repeal gradually faded before the more brilliant and daring aspiration of an Irish republic! France would probably sympathise with Erin; and a deputation was sent over to wait upon Lamartine, then in the zenith of his popularity, for the double purpose of ascertaining the chances of assistance, and of taking a flying lesson in the art of constructing barricades. But the members of the French Provisional Government showed no alacrity in recognising the Irish patriots, and distinctly refused to interfere. Then it became apparent, that if the Irish party were determined to rebel, they must do so without foreign aid and intervention; and on their own ground, and with their own weapons, be prepared to cope with the Saxon.