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IRELAND AS IT IS
AND AS IT WOULD BE
UNDER HOME RULE.

SIXTY-TWO LETTERS
WRITTEN BY THE
SPECIAL COMMISSIONER
OF THE
BIRMINGHAM DAILY GAZETTE,
BETWEEN MARCH AND AUGUST, 1893.

_With Map of Ireland showing the places visited._

BIRMINGHAM:
BIRMINGHAM DAILY GAZETTE COMPANY, LIMITED, HIGH STREET.

LONDON:
47, FLEET STREET, E.C.

PRINTED BY
THE BIRMINGHAM GAZETTE CO., LTD.,
52 AND 53, HIGH STREET,
BIRMINGHAM.

SPECIAL COMMISSIONER'S PREFACE.

Irish Loyalists will not soon forget the early part of 1893. Arriving
in Dublin in March, it at once became evident that the industrial
community regarded Home Rule, not with the academical indifference
attributed to the bulk of the English electorate, but with absolute
dismay; not as a possibility which might be pleasantly discussed
between friends, but as a wholly unnecessary measure, darkly
iniquitous, threatening the total destruction of all they held dear.
English lukewarmness was hotly resented, but the certainty that
England must herself receive a dangerous if not a mortal wound, was
scant comfort to men who felt themselves on the eve of a hopeless
struggle for political, nay, even for material existence. This was
before the vast demonstrations of Belfast and Dublin, before the
memorable function in the Albert Hall, London, before the hundreds of
speakers sent forth by the Irish Unionist Alliance had visited
England, spreading the light of accurate knowledge, returning to
Ireland with tidings of comfort and joy. The change in public feeling
was instant and remarkable. Although from day to day the passage of
the Bill through the Commons became more and more a certainty, the
Irish Unionists completely discarded their fears, resuming their
normal condition of trust and confidence. Mr. H.L. Barnardo, J.P., of
Dublin, aptly expressed the universal feeling when he said:--

"We have been to England, and we know three things,--that the Bill
will pass the Commons, that the Lords will throw it out, and that the
English people don't care if they do."

This accounted for the renewed serenity of the well-doing classes,
whose air and attitude were those of men thankful for having narrowly
escaped a great danger. The rebound was easily observable in cities
like Dublin and Belfast, where also was abundantly evident the placid
resignation of the Separatist forces, whose discontent with the actual
Bill and profound distrust of its framer, superadded to an
ever-increasing qualmishness inevitably arising from acquaintance with
the prospective statesmen of an Irish Legislature, caused them to look
forward to the action of the Lords with ill-disguised complacency. In
regions more remote the scattered Loyalists lacked the consolation
arising from numbers and propinquity to England, and accordingly their
tremors continued, and, in a smaller degree, continue still. To them
the Bill is a matter of life and death; and while their industry is
crippled, their mental peace is destroyed by the ever-present torture
of suspense.

As to the merits of the case for Home Rule, I would earnestly ask
fair-minded opponents to remember that during my wanderings I met with
numbers of intelligent and honourable men, both Scots and English, who
having come to Ireland as earnest, nay, even by their own confession,
as bigoted Gladstonians, had changed their opinions on personal
acquaintance with the facts, and strove with all the energy of
conscientious men who had unwittingly led others astray, to repair, so
far as in them lay, the results of their former political action. And
it should be especially noted that of all those I so met who had
arrived in Ireland as Home Rulers, not one retained his original
faith. A very slight process of inductive reasoning will develop the
suggestiveness of this incontestible fact.

Readers will hardly require to be reminded that the letters were
written, not in studious retirement with ample time at command, but
for a Daily Paper, at the rate of nearly eight newspaper columns a
week, in the intervals of travel and inquiry, often under grave
difficulties and with one eye on the inexorable clock. The precepts of
the Master were of necessity ignored:--

    _Sæpe stylum vertas, iterum quæ digna legi sint Scripturus;
    neque, te ut miretur turba labores Contentus paucis lectoribus._

But before committing them to paper, the facts were sifted with
scrupulous care, and where personal investigation was impracticable,
nothing was adduced except upon evidence of weight and authority
sufficient to prove anything. And as during a six months' hue and cry
of the Nationalist press of Ireland, aided and abetted by some English
prints, no single statement was in any degree shaken, the letters have
re-appeared precisely as at first.

                                         R.J.B.,
     Special Commissioner of the _Birmingham Daily Gazette_.

EDITOR'S REVIEW.

The _Birmingham Daily Gazette_ of August 18, 1893, thus summed up the
labours of its Special Commissioner:--We publish to-day the last of
our Special Commissioner's letters on "Ireland As It Is." His task has
been an arduous one, and not without a strong element of personal
danger. That he has been kept under the close observation of the Irish
police; that they have frequently given him timely warning of personal
danger; that he has dared to go to places in County Clare when the
police warned him to refrain, and his native car-driver refused to
venture, are facts which he has modestly abstained from bringing into
the prominence they deserved. We must necessarily speak of the merits
of his labour with a certain measure of reserve, but the many letters
which lie before us are at least a gratifying proof that his work has
been appreciated, and that it has cast new lights upon the Irish
problem. To the simple direction, "State nothing that you cannot stand
by," he has been faithful even beyond our most sanguine hopes. A
stranger in a strange land seeking information wherever it can be
found, and compelled on many occasions to accept the statements made
to him, may easily be led into error. It is to the credit of our
Commissioner that he has withheld some of the most sensational stories
retailed to him, because he had not an opportunity of verifying them
in detail. The notorious Father Humphreys, of Tipperary, will not
soon forget his experience of giving the lie to the _Gazette_; neither
will those who organised an "indignation" meeting at Tuam be likely to
congratulate themselves upon having stung our Commissioner into
retaliation. It may be recalled as an illustration of the desperate
efforts made to discredit him that after he had attended a Nationalist
meeting at Dundalk he was denounced as a "liar" and a "pimp" because
he had stated that he was invited to address the score of persons who
had "met in their thousands" to shake the foundations of the British
Empire. His assailants fiercely declared that he was not invited to
speak; he was only informed that he might address the meeting if he
desired to do so!

Our Commissioner has travelled about four thousand miles since he
started last March. He has taken no lop-sided view of Ireland. The
prosperous North has been contrasted with the stagnant South, and the
causes of their difference have been explained. The splendid work of
industrial development inaugurated in the poverty-stricken West by
that greatest of all Irish Secretaries, Mr. Balfour, has been compared
with the mischievous encouragements of idleness, the lavish
professions of sentimental sympathy, and the dogged refusals of
substantial help since the present Government took office. Above all,
our Commissioner has provided conclusive evidence that Irish
Nationalism is a mere delusive sham--a paltry euphemism for the
predatory passion which a succession of professional agitators have
aroused in the hearts of the people. If the Land Question could be
settled, there would be an end of the clamour for independence and of
the insensate shrieking against British rule. With a definite stake in
the country the peasantry upon whom the Nationalist agitation mainly
relies would cease to place their faith in the impecunious and
blatant scoundrelism which fattens upon the discord and misery which
it provokes in the name of Patriotism. Our Commissioner believes that
the priests, who have an even stronger hold upon the people than the
politicians, would find their power weakened if it were possible to
greatly extend the system of peasant proprietary which it was the
purpose of the Land Purchase of 1891 to foster. Land hunger lies at
the root of Irish disaffection, and the Romish hierarchy have found in
the deep-rooted prejudices and the ignorant superstitions of the
people a foundation upon which they have reared an appalling
superstructure of social and spiritual tyranny. Politicians have
taught the peasantry to believe that they have been robbed of the land
which is their only means of subsistence in a country that is
destitute of mineral wealth, that lacks capital, and is overshadowed
by the enormous commercial energy of Great Britain. The priests have
adopted the theses of politicians, and have brought the terrors of
their sacred calling into play in order to make themselves the masters
of the people.

Home Rule would be the signal for a ghastly civil war, ruinous to
Ireland, and fatal to that spirit of religious toleration by which the
Roman Catholics and the Protestants have obtained equal rights of
citizenship under the rule of the Queen and the Imperial Parliament.
The cultured Roman Catholics of England and Ireland look with pain and
regret at the insensate bigotry and domineering intolerance which made
the exposures in County Meath possible. They see in these wild claims
of absolutism in the domain of temporal as well as spiritual affairs,
a grave danger to all pure religion. They perceive that the revival of
the old sectarian passions in Ireland cannot fail to react on Great
Britain, and even if the Keltic priesthood triumphed over the Ulster
Protestants their victory would be a fatal one to all who hold by the
Roman Catholic faith in England. Home Rule would bring misery and
disaster in its train, and even the Parnellite section of the Irish
people, who have shaken off clerical domination, tremble at the
prospect of it while nine-tenths of their co-religionists are
destitute of personal freedom. We must find the solution of Ireland's
disaffection in another way, and mainly by a bold handling of the
agrarian question, which lies at the root of all. The task before the
Unionist party is not a light one. They must crush the Nationalist
conspiracy, and uproot the fantastic hopes which unscrupulous men have
implanted in the minds of an ignorant and credulous people. They must
extend the noble system of practical aid to Ireland so successfully
inaugurated by Mr. Balfour in his light railway, fishery, and
agricultural development schemes. And they must mitigate the friction
between owners and occupiers of the soil by making it easy and
profitable for tenants and landlords alike to avail themselves of
British credit in terminating a relationship which has been fraught
with occasions of bitter hostility and mistrust. Under such a policy
we can see bright prospects of a happy future for the sister island,
but under the policy of Home Rule we see only the lowering clouds of
civil war and the dark shadows of reawakened religious animosity.

CONTENTS.

                                                                  PAGE

No. 1.--The Spirit of the Capital             Dublin, March 28th     1

No. 2.--Panic and Disaster                    Dublin, March 30th     7

No. 3.--Ulster's Preparations for War         Belfast, April 1st    13

No. 4.--Mr. Balfour's Welcome                 Belfast, April 4th    20

No. 5.--Has Mr. Morley Lied?                Ballymena, April 6th    27

No. 6.--The Exodus of Industry                 Dublin, April 8th    34
        Mr. Balfour in Dublin                  Dublin, April 8th    40

No. 7.--Bad for England, Ruinous to
        Ireland                             Limerick, April 11th    43

No. 8.--Terrorism at Tipperary             Tipperary, April 12th    48

No. 9.--Tyranny and Terrorism  Oolagh, Co. Tipperary, April 15th    54

No. 10.--Defying the Land League                Cork, April 20th    61

No. 11.--The Cry for Peace and
         Quietness                 Tralee, Co. Kerry, April 20th    67

No. 12.--English Ignorance and Irish
         Perversity                         Limerick, April 22nd    75

No. 13.--The Curse Of County
         Clare               Rathkeale, Co. Limerick, April 24th    81

No. 14.--Lawlessness and
         Laziness                Killaloe, Co. Clare, April 27th    89

No. 15.--The Peril to English
         Trade                      Ennis, Co. Clare, April 29th    96

No. 16.--Civil War in County
         Clare                        Bodyke, Co. Clare, May 2nd   102

No. 17.--Rent at the Root of
         Nationalism                  Bodyke, Co. Clare, May 2nd   109

No. 18.--Hard Facts for English
         Readers                       Gort, Co. Galway, May 6th   116

No. 19.--Indolence and
         Improvidence               Athenry, Co. Galway, May 6th   123

No. 20.--Religion at the Bottom of
         the Irish Question            Tuam, Co. Galway, May 9th   128

No. 21.--Mr. Balfour's Fisheries           Galway Town, May 13th   135

No. 22.--The Land League's Reign at
         Loughrea                             Loughrea, May 16th   142

No. 23.--The Reign of Indolence               Salthill, May 18th   149

No. 24.--The Aran Islands                       Galway, May 20th   156

No. 25.--The Priests and
         Outrage                  Moycullen, Connemara, May 23rd   163

No. 26.--The Connemara Railway   Oughterard, Connemara, May 23rd   169

No. 27.--Cultivating Irish Industry            Athenry, May 27th   177

No. 28.--Could we Reconquer
         Ireland?                    Barna, Co. Galway, May 30th   184

No. 29.--What Rack-Rent
         Means                Mullingar, Co. Westmeath, June 1st   190

No. 30.--The "Union of Hearts"                 Athlone, June 3rd   197

No. 31.--The "Union of Hearts"                Westport, June 6th   203

No. 32.--Home Rule and Irish Immigration     Castlebar, June 8th   209

No. 33.--Tuam's Indignation Meeting           Ballina, June 10th   217

No. 34.--Why Ireland does not Prosper       Oughewall, June 10th   223

No. 35.--In a Congested District    Newport, Co. Mayo, June 15th   230

No. 36.--Irish Improvidence the
         Stumbling Block          Mulranney, Co. Mayo, June 17th   237

No. 37.--On Achil Island                  Achil Sound, June 20th   244

No. 38.--The Achil Islanders     Dugort, Achil Island, June 22nd   251

No. 39.--Irish Unfitness for
         Self-Government                  Castlereagh, June 24th   259

No. 40.--Object Lessons in Irish
         Self-Government                    Roscommon, June 27th   265

No. 41.--The Changed Spirit of the Capital     Dublin, June 29th   271

No. 42.--At a Nationalist Meeting              Dundalk, July 1st   279

No. 43.--In the Prosperous North                 Newry, July 4th   285

No. 44.--The Prosperous North                   Armagh, July 6th   291

No. 45.--A Picture of Romish "Toleration"     Monaghan, July 8th   298

No. 46.--A Bit of Foreign Opinion         Enniskillen, July 11th   304

No. 47.--The Loyalists and the Lawless         Clones, July 13th   310

No. 48.--A Search for "Orange Rowdyism"       Belfast, July 15th   317

No. 49.--The Constitution of the
         Orange Lodges                      Portadown, July 18th   324

No. 50.--The Hollowness of Home Rule      Warrenpoint, July 20th   331

No. 51.--The Irish Press on "Finality"       Strabane, July 22nd   337

No. 52.--How the Priests Control
         the People               Raphoe, Co. Donegal, July 25th   345

No. 53.--What they think in County
         Donegal              Stranorlar, Co. Donegal, July 27th   351

No. 54.--A Sample of Irish "Loyalty"      Killygordon, July 29th   358

No. 55.--A Truly Patriotic Priest            Donegal, August 1st   365

No. 56.--Do-Nothing Donegal                  Donegal, August 3rd   371

No. 57.--Barefooted and Dilatory        Ballyshannon, August 5th   378

No. 58.--The Truth about Bundoran              Sligo, August 8th   383

No. 59.--Irish Nationalism is not
         Patriotism                      Birmingham, August 11th   390

No. 60.--Land Hunger: its Cause,
         Effect, and Remedy              Birmingham, August 14th   396

No. 61.--Clerical Domination and its
         Consequences                    Birmingham, August 16th   403

No. 62.--Civil War a certainty of
         Home Rule                       Birmingham, August 18th   409

[For a General Index the reader is referred to the end of the
volume.]

IRELAND AS IT IS

AND AS IT WOULD BE

UNDER HOME RULE.

IRELAND AS IT IS

AND AS IT WOULD BE

UNDER HOME RULE

No. 1.--THE SPIRIT OF THE CAPITAL.

By the Spirit of the Capital I do not mean, as an Irishman would tell
you, Jameson's whiskey, nor yet the vivifying soul of Guinness's
double stout, but the mental posture of the dwellers in Dublin with
reference to Home Rule. There can be no doubt of the interest
prevailing in the Irish metropolis. The people are wrought into a
fever-heat of expectancy and intense nervous excitement. Home Rule is
the only topic of conversation. In hotels, on the steamers, in railway
carriages, on tramcars, in the market-place, on the steps of the
temples, at the corners of the streets, in the music halls, the
wondering stranger hears of Home Rule, Home Rule, Home Rule, first,
last, midst, and without end.

Obviously so much discussion shows difference of opinion, divergency
of conception, conflicting interests. It is borne in upon you that the
Irish people are far from agreed as to what Home Rule means, and that
every individual has his own pet notion, the various theories
differing as widely as the education and social position of their
proposers. But the most striking feature in the attitude of Dublin is
undoubtedly the intense, the deep-rooted, the perfervid hatred of the
bill shown by the better sort of people, the nervous anxiety of the
law-abiding classes, the undisguised alarm of everybody who has
anything to lose, whether commercial men, private traders,
manufacturers, or the representatives of learning and culture. The
mere shadow of Home Rule has already seriously affected stocks and
securities, has brought about withdrawal of capital, and is sending
both English and Irish commercial travellers home empty-handed. Sir
Howard Grubb, maker of the great telescope of the Lick Observatory,
America, an Irishman whose scientific and commercial successes are a
glory to his country, and whose titular honours have been won by sheer
force of merit, declares that the passing of the Home Rule Bill will
be the signal heralding his departure to England, with plant and
working staff, and that he has been preparing for this since 1886. One
of the largest booksellers in the city tells me that, acting in
conjunction with others of the trade, during the last six weeks no
orders have been given to English travellers, adding--and thoughtful
people should find this highly suggestive--"The Dublin Unionists are
the people who have the money and the education. The people who have
money to spend are becoming excessively careful. They know not what
may be in store, but they fear that if Home Rule becomes law they will
be ruined, and more than ninety-five per cent. of my customers are
Unionists."

Further inquiry confirmed the statement that the book-buying community
are practically Unionists to a man. The same figures hold good among
the Irish Quakers. Ninety-five per cent. is the proportion given to me
by an eminent Friend, no stranger to Birmingham, intimately known to
Alderman White and three generations of the Cadbury family. He said,
"Irish Quakers are Unionists, because they are on the spot, because
they understand the subject, because they know what will follow,
because they share the dangers of the threatened revolution. What may
be the proportion of Home Rulers among the English Friends I do not
know, but probably the Gladstonians have a majority, for precisely
opposite reasons to those I have stated, that is,--they are not on the
spot, do not understand the matter, are unable to see what will take
place, and regard themselves as safe, whatever happens." The Irish
Quakers have issued a manifesto which should weigh with their English
brethren and with the country at large. The Quakers know their way
about. Their piety has not blunted their perceptive faculties, has not
taken the edge off their keenness. Their reputation for shrewdness is
equal to their reputation for integrity, which is saying a good deal.
With them the innocence of the dove is happily combined with
considerable wisdom of the serpent. And at least ninety-five per cent.
of the Irish Quakers are earnest Unionists.

But although the deep concern of the respectable classes of the Irish
capital is calculated to fill the wandering Englishman with grave
uneasiness, it is not all tragedy. The Dubliners must have their fun,
and, like the Parisians, will sport with matters of heaviest import.
The poorer classes treat the universal subject lightly, as beseems men
who have nothing to lose and everything to gain. The prevailing trait
in their mental attitude is incredulousness. You cannot make them
believe that the bill will pass. "We'll get Home Rule when a pair o'
white wings sprouts out o' me shoulders an' I fly away like a
blackbird," said an old market woman with great emphasis; and a Dublin
jackeen, piloting an American over the city, said: "This, Sorr, is
College Green, an' that, Sorr, is Thrinity College, an' that
Sorr,"--here he pointed to the grand pile opposite the College--"that
Sorr, is the grate buildin' in which the Irish Parliament is _not_
going to meet!" At one of the music halls an old woman (Ireland) is
represented as buying a coffin for a deceased son named "Home Rule"
Bill, when the following conversation occurs:--

"Is it an oak or an elm coffin ye want?"

"Ah, thin, just a chape deal coffin, shure--wid a few archangels on
the lid."

"Will ye want any trimmings?"

"Arrah, what d'ye mane by trimmin's?"

"Trimmings for the coffin."

"Bad luck to yer trimmin's. What would I want wid them? Sure 'twas
'trimmin's' that kilt him!"

It is hoped that Saxon readers will see this subtle joke when I
explain that "delirium" should come before "trimmin's."

Underneath the incredulity of the lower classes--and be it observed
that their incredulity is obviously based on an instinctive feeling
that the claims and arguments of their own party are alike
preposterous--underneath this vein of unbelief is a vein of
extraordinary credulity. Poverty is to be at once and for ever
abolished. "The millions an' millions that John Bull dhrags out iv us,
to kape up his grandeur, an' to pay soldiers to grind us down, we'll
put into our own pockets, av you plaze," was the answer vouchsafed to
an inquiry as to what advantages were expected from the passing of the
Home Rule Bill. The speaker was a political barber. Another of the
craft said, in answer to the same query, "Well, Sorr, I think we have
a right to our indipindence. Sure, we'd be as sthrong as Switzerland
or Belgium." A small farmer from the outlying district thought that
rents would be lowered, that money would be advanced to struggling
tenants, that great public works would be instituted, and plainly
intimated that all these good things and many more had been roundly
promised by the Home Rule leaders, and that he, for one, fully
believed that all would duly come to pass, once the Bill were carried,
which happy event he never expected to see. Every man was to be a kind
of king in his own country, evictions were to be utterly unknown; the
peasantry were to live rent free, under a visionary scheme of which he
had all the absurd particulars; the old sporting maxim reminding
farmers that landlord shooting begins on January 1st and ends on
December 31st was to become obsolete by reason of a complete
extinction of the species--only an odd one being occasionally dug out
of the bogs along with trunks of bog-oak and skeletons of the great
Irish elk; while the family pig, which, having for ages occupied a
responsible position in the matter of "Rint," is understood to be an
inveterate landlord-hater, will be released from his delicate
situation, will be relieved from his harassing anxieties, will no
longer be sacrificed to the exigencies of the occasion; but, on the
contrary, will peacefully expire of old age, surrounded by every
tribute of respect. The dirtiest of the Dubliners hold opinions as to
the marvellous results of Home Rule more adapted to their own
positions and pursuits, but apparently on the same plane, no whit
higher in the scale of intelligence. They regard the English as their
natural enemies, and the lower you go the more truculent they become.
One and all they hold the belief, industriously instilled by
agitators, that the poverty of Ireland is due to the aggrandisement
of England, that the bulk of Irish taxation flows into English
coffers, and is used for English purposes to the exclusion of Ireland,
and this they have swallowed and insist upon, in defiance of common
reason and the evidence of their senses. The instinct of patriotism is
not _en évidence_. The dominant passion is cupidity, and nothing
higher; sheer greed of gain, lust of possession, and nothing nobler.
Selfishness and the hope of plunder are the actuating impulses at the
poll; crass ignorance and bitter prejudice the mental disposition of
the lower class of voters. Four hours' slumming convinced me of this,
and must convince anyone. "We'll bate the English into the say," said
a resident in the sweet region yclept Summer Hill. "Whin we get the
police in our hands an' an army of our own, we'd sweep them out o' the
counthry av we only held cabbage-shtalks. Ireland for the Irish, an'
to hell wid John Bull! Thim's my sintiments." And those are the
"sintiments" of his class. I have spent days among the Irish Home
Rulers without having once heard of the Union of Hearts. The phrase
serves well enough to tickle the simple souls of the long-eared but
short-headed fraternity of pseudo-philosophical-philanthropists across
the water, but it has no currency in Ireland.

Like the country folks the city slummers believe that unheard-of
advantages would follow the great Bill, and, unconsciously parodying
Sancho Panza, say in effect, "Now blessings light on him who first
invented Home Rule! it covers a man all over, thoughts and all, like a
cloak; it is meat for the hungry, drink for the thirsty, heat for the
cold, and cold for the hot." The bare thought of the coming Paradise
illuminates their dirty visages. Like the lunatic, the lover, and the
poet, they are of imagination all compact, and, unlike the character
mentioned by the Bard, they "can hold a fire in their hands, By
thinking on the frosty Caucasus, And cloy the hungry edge of appetite
By bare imagination of a feast; And wallow naked in December snow By
thinking on fantastic summer's heat."

Meanwhile, they lounge about in idleness, hugging their misery,
discussing the "bating" of the Unionist party, or, as I saw them
yesterday evening, listening to the crooning of an ancient female
gutter-snipe, a dun-coloured heap of decrepit wretchedness, chanting
the great future of the Irish Parliament in a picturesque and
extraordinary doggerel anent the "larned reprisintatives of the Oirish
na-a-tion. Promiscu-o-ous they shtand in em-u-la-a-tion." The small
shopkeepers, once ardent Nationalists, seem to be changing their
minds. One of them confided to me the fact that he and his fellows,
brought actually face to face with the possibility that the end of
their aspirations and agitations would be attained, were beginning to
ask whether, after all, taxation would be remitted, whether indeed the
rates would not be heavier, and whether the moneyed people would
remain in the country at all. Hearing on all sides these and similar
confessions, accompanied by urgent admonitions of secrecy, you begin
to ask whether the past conduct of these enlightened voters had any
more substantial basis than a cantankerous and unreasonable
discontent, superadded to an Irishman's natural love of fighting. The
leaders of the Separatist party have made the most frantic efforts to
win over the police, but apparently without much success. The Dublin
constabulary, a body of 1,300 men, is totally separate and distinct
from the Royal Irish Constabulary, but I have reason to believe that
the feeling of both forces is averse to Home Rule. Said a sergeant
yesterday, "John Bull may have faults, but," and here he winked
expressively, "but--he pays!" Then he went on--"I am a Westmeath man,
a Roman Catholic, an' as good an Irishman as any of thim; an' I'd like
Home Rule if it was local self-government, what they call the gas an'
wather management, or the like of that. But although I've the highest
respect for my counthry, an' for my counthrymen, I'd like to feel that
my pay was in better hands, and--what is of more importance--my
pension, afther 30 years' service."

Here was a complete lack of confidence, but my friend had more to say.
He referred to the provisions of the bill, spoke of the six years'
arrangement, and on this point exhibited great native shrewdness. "How
do we know we'll be employed for six years, once the Irish leaders get
matters in their own hands? They may promise fairly enough, but they
would be subject to several influences which might prevint thim kaping
their promise. First of all, when they had the power, they would
naturally like to manage things their own way--an' not to be
altogether bound down so hard an' fast by their engagement with the
English Parliament. Then, although they profess such friendship, they
don't altogether like us. We may tell them we are Nationalists, an'
that we're runnin' over with patriotism; but they'll tell us that we
stood by at evictions, an' that we fired on the people at
Mitchelstown. But the greatest thing of all is this--all their
counthry friends, all the terrorisers, the men that mutilated the
cattle, the village ruffians that for years have been doin' their
work, an' actin' as their spies--all these will have to be provided
for. The same with our officers, but their case is still worse. They
have had to pass a regular military examination, which means an
expensive education. They will get the go-by an' the dirty kick-out,
in order that the friends of the ruling party, who have been so long
in the desert, may be furnished with posts. 'Tis human nature, Sorr."
Wherefore, the constabulary, it would seem, may be trusted to take
care of themselves, but the situation is suggestive of serious
complications, once the bill were passed. A full private this morning
told me that without the security of the British Exchequer the force
would not hold together for four-and-twenty hours, a statement which,
whatever be its value, is at least an indication of the amount of
trust which some of the Irish people, and those not the worst
informed, are disposed to place in the distinguished assembly which,
according to the authority hereinbefore-mentioned is _not_ to meet on
College Green.

A never-ending complaint which follows you everywhere is the
supineness of the English electorate. Men whose interests are
seriously threatened, such as the better class of shopkeepers, are
unable to understand the comparative calmness of the British public at
large. Passionately they ask why England leaves them to their fate,
and strongly they urge that prompt and decided action should be taken,
if not for the sake of Ireland, then in the interests of England
herself. Disruption, pure and simple, the breaking up of the Empire,
with panic and general ruin, are in their opinion the sure and certain
concomitants of the bill now before the House. They declare that
Englishmen as a whole, whether Gladstonians or Unionists, fail to
realise the gravity of the situation, and they lose no opportunity of
saying whenever they hear an English accent, "WE DON'T WANT IT, WE
DON'T WANT IT!" Not always do they trouble to say what is the thing
they so emphatically reject. "Pardon me, Sir, but are you English?"
Receiving an affirmative the rejoinder comes at once, and forcefully,
"We don't want it, we don't want it! Tell the English people that if
they knew all they would not entertain the idea for a moment." The
phrase meets you everywhere, is roared at you in chorus in commercial
rooms, haunts you in your sleep, and, if they would own it, must be
painfully suggestive to Gladstonian visitors. But there are none so
blind as those who will not see, none so deaf as those who will not
hear. It is impossible to withhold sympathy with the indignation and
mental anxiety of these industrious men, who have made Dublin what she
is, and whose only notion of happiness is the fulfilment of duty,
their sole means of acquiring wealth or middleclass comfort, hard and
honest work. That the backbone of the city should stand with their
fortunes subject to the will of a few unscrupulous agitators is
indeed, as they say, an inscrutable dispensation of Providence.

Help, however, is at hand. As Hercules hangs backward in their need
they have determined to help themselves. During the Easter recess both
Ireland and England will be made to ring with denunciations of Home
Rule, denunciations uttered for the most part by Irishmen. Orators
will go forth throughout the length and breadth of both islands, with
the object of laying the truth of the matter before the
people--demonstrating the dire results which the most intelligent
almost unanimously predict. There will be no lack of funds--Catholics
and Protestants are subscribing, among the former the grandson of
Daniel O'Connell, the great Liberator of Ireland. Money is literally
pouring into the offices of the Irish Unionist Alliance. Little Roman
Catholic Tralee, in the heart of Kerry, one of the most disturbed
districts, has sent several hundreds. In three weeks the subscriptions
have reached £20,000. That ought to be enough to enable Irish
Unionists not, as one said to me, "to enlighten the English people. We
do not presume to so much. But we will try to let some of the Darkness
out."

Dublin, March 28th.

No. 2.--PANIC AND DISASTER.

The situation is becoming hourly more serious. The over-excited
condition of men's minds is rapidly ripening into a panic. The
impending Second Reading is driving the respectable population of
Ireland into absolute despair. The capital is inundated by men from
all parts of the kingdom anxious to know the worst, running hither and
thither, asking whether, even at the eleventh hour, anything may be
done to avert the dreaded calamity. An eminent solicitor assures me
that during the last four-and-twenty hours a striking change of
opinion has taken place. Red-hot Home Rulers when confronted with the
looming actuality are on all sides abandoning their loudly proclaimed
political opinions. My friend's business--he is, or has been, an
ardent Home Ruler--is chiefly connected with land conveyancing, and he
declares that his office is besieged by people anxious to "withdraw
their charges" on land and house property, that is, to recall their
money advanced on mortgage, however profitable the investment, however
apparently solid the security. He instanced the case of an estate in
Cavan, bearing three mortgages of respectively £1,000, £3,000, and
£4,000, and leaving to the borrower a clear income of £1,700 a year
after all claims were paid. The three lenders are strenuously
endeavouring to realise, the thousand-pounder being prostrate with
affright, but although the investments under normal conditions would
fetch a good premium, not a penny can be raised in any direction. The
lenders are Home Rulers, and eighty per cent. of the population of
Cavan are Roman Catholic.

The same story is heard everywhere, with "damnable iteration." The
cause of charity is suffering severely. The building of additions to
the Rotunda Hospital and the Hospital for Consumptives, at a cost of
twenty thousand pounds, has been definitely abandoned, although
three-quarters of the money has been raised. The building trade is at
a complete standstill. On every hand contracts are thrown up, great
works are put aside. Mr. Kane, High Sheriff of Kildare, declines to
proceed with the building of his new mansion, which was to cost many
thousand pounds. Mr. John Jameson, the eminent distiller, who also
contemplated the construction of a palatial residence, which would
take years to build, has dropped the idea. The project for the
formation of a great Donegal Oyster-bed Company, which long bade fair
to prosper, and to confer a boon on the starving peasantry of the
coast, has been cast to the winds. Among the shoals of similar
occurrences which confront you at every turn, some contain an element
almost of humour. A Dublin architect tells a quaint story of this
kind. It may not be generally known in England that the Roman
Catholics of Ireland can borrow money from John Bull for the erection
of "glebe-houses," at 4 per cent., repayable in 49 years. In a certain
recent case the priest thought the builder's estimate too high, and,
without absolutely declining the contract, intimated that he would
"wait a while." Said the architect, "Better make up your mind before
June, or you may have the Irish Legislature to deal with." This
argument acted like magic. The good Father instantly saw its cogency,
and, like every other patriotic Nationalist whose personal interest is
involved, preferred to place himself in English hands rather than in
those of his own countrymen, and incontinently accepted the contract,
begging the architect to proceed with all haste.

A run on the Post Office Savings Bank threatens to clear out every
penny of Irish money, and why? Because it has dawned on the small
hoarders, the thrifty and industrious members of the lower classes,
that the Post Office is to be transferred to the Irish Legislature. A
friend tells me that yesterday his Catholic cook begged for an
interview. She had money in the Post Office Savings Bank, and
thereanent required advice, asking if it would be safe till to-morrow!
Following up this hint, pregnant with meaning, though delivered in
jest, I found that the feeling of insecurity is spreading like wild
fire, to the intense indignation of those patriots who have no
savings, and who are alive to the fact that under the provisions of
the proposed Act the four millions supposed to be lying in the Post
Office Savings Bank would constitute the entire working capital, as
distinguished from current income, of the College Green Legislature.
The master of a small sub-office told me that the withdrawals at his
little place amounted to £200 per week, rising latterly to £70 per
day, and that it was necessary to get money from London to meet the
demands. Concurrently with this I learn that the Dublin Savings Bank,
an institution managed by merchants of the city, for the encouragement
of thrift, is receiving the money so withdrawn, and this confidence is
explained by the well-known fact that the directors have publicly
declared that on the passing of the Home Rule Bill they will pay 20s.
in the pound and close the bank, in addition to which significant
ultimatum they have, in writing, declared to Mr. Gladstone, that this
course of action is due to the fact that they repudiate the security
of the proposed Irish Legislature. To put the thing in a nutshell it
may be said that not a single Irishman in or out of the country is
willing to trust the Irish Legislature with a single penny of his own
money.

A curious feature of the Nationalist character is the profound
contempt expressed for Nationalist M.P.'s. Englishmen are accustomed
to speak of their own members, representing their own opinions, with
respect. Not so in Dublin. A rabid Nationalist said to me, "I am an
Irishman to the backbone. I am a Home Ruler out-and-out. But do you
think I'd trust my property with either of the two Tims? Do you think
such men as Tim Harrington and Tim Healy are fit to be trusted with
the spending of 2-1/2 millions of money per annum? They have their
job, and they work well at their job, and the Irish people have backed
them up out of pure divilment. 'Tis mighty fine to take a rise out of
John Bull, to harass him, to worry him, to badger him out of his seven
sinses. The half of the voters never were serious, or voted as they
were told by men who expatiated on the wrongs which have been dinned
into them from infancy. But to trust these orators with their money!
Bedad, we're not all out such omadhauns (idiots) as that! Paddy is not
altogether such a fool as he looks."

Although public feeling has suddenly deepened in intensity, the change
has been for some time in progress. I am enabled to state on
irrefragable authority, that Lord Houghton's sudden departure from
Dublin on Sunday week was entirely due to his alarm at the shifting
aspect of affairs, which rendered instant conference with Mr.
Gladstone a matter of urgent necessity. And it should be especially
noted that this change is most apparent not in the Protestant North,
not among the irreconcilable black and heretic Ulsterites, but in
Nationalist Dublin, in the Roman Catholic south--not simply among the
moneyed classes and well-to-do shopkeepers of Dublin, but among the
industrious poor, and the small farmers of the region round about. The
opinions and feelings of the better classes have ever been dead
against the Bill, and the best portion of the poorer people are
assuredly moving in the same direction. That such is the simple fact
is undeniable. It is thrust upon you whether you will or no. You are
compelled to believe it, whatever your political creed. It manifests
itself in a variety of ways. Mr. Love, of Kildare, a landed
proprietor, now in Dublin, says that on Sunday last Dr. Gowing, parish
priest of Kill, denounced Home Rule from the altar, and advised the
people to have none of it.

The Dubliners are beginning to publicly ridicule their Nationalist
members. A bog-oak carving represents a typical Irishman driving a
"conthrairy pig," which is supposed to stand for Tim Harrington. The
interesting animal is deviating from the right way, gazing fixedly at a
milestone which bears the legend, "IX. miles to College Green." His
master gives him a cut of the whip and a jerk of the rope, and thus
addresses the wayward Tim, "Arrah, don't be wastin' yer larnin', radin'
milestones. Ye're not goin' to Dublin--ye're goin' to BRAY!" A Phoenix
Park orator who sang amusing songs finished his appeal for coppers
thus, "Sure, Home Rule is a splindid thing--an iligant thing intirely,
an' a blind man could see the goodness iv it wid his two eyes. Didn't
ye all know Tim Harrington whin he hadn't the price iv his breakfast?
Didn't ye know him whin he would dhrop on his two marrowbones and thank
God for the price of a shmell of calamity-wather" (whiskey). "An' now
look at him! D'ye mind the iligant property he has outside Dublin? An
ye'll all get the like o' that, every bosthoon among yez, av ye get
Home Rule. But yez must sind _me_ to Parlimint. Sure I have ivery
quollification. Wasn't I born among yez? Wasn't I rared among yez?
Don't I know what yez wants? An' didn't I go many a day widout a male?
Aye, that I did, an' could do it again! Sind _me_ to Parlimint, till I
get within whisperin' distance of Misther Gladstone--within whisperin'
distance, d'ye mind me? Ye'll all get lashins of dhrink, an' free
quarthers at the Castle. An' all ye have to do is to pay me, an' pay me
well." Here the speaker laid his finger along his nose and broke into a
comic song having reference to "the broad Atlantic," which he chanted
in a brogue almost as broad as the Atlantic itself.

The better class of vacillating Nationalists are ready to give a
plausible reason for the faith that is in them. You cannot catch an
Irish Home Ruler napping, nor will he admit that he was ever wrong. He
will talk to the average Englishman about Irish rights and Irish
wrongs, Irish virtues and Irish abstinence from crime with a reckless
disregard for truth that can only be born of a firm belief that Irish
newspapers are never read outside Ireland, and will then walk off and
plume himself on the assumption that because he met no point-blank
contradiction he has duped his victim into believing the most absurd
mass of wild misinformation that was ever crammed down the throats of
the most gullible of his rustic countrymen. It must be admitted that
they are shrewd critics of the Bill, of which every individual
citizen, whatever his conviction, has an annotated copy in his
tail-pocket. The Dublin change of front is ascribed to the "insulting
manner in which the Bill is drafted." The Nationalists, one and all,
roundly declare, in terms which admit of no qualification, that the
present bill means no less than separation, and while admitting that
this is their dearest aspiration, declare that England will only have
herself to thank. They complain that the word "Parliament" is never
used in the Bill when referring to the Irish Legislature, but console
themselves with the reflection that the supremacy of Parliament proper
is only mentioned in the preamble, which they rejoice to believe is
not part of the bill, and therefore is not binding in law. The
Treasury clauses they declare to have been drawn by a deadly enemy of
Ireland, but here again they find salvation in the alleged
inconsistency of the various provisions of the bill.

They accept with exceeding great joy the provision which will enable
them to deprive of their property, rights, and privileges all existing
Corporations whether incorporated under Royal Charter or otherwise,
pointing out that this means ownership and control of the Bank of
Ireland, Trinity College, and all the churches and cathedrals, which
hereafter are to be wrested from Protestant hands and devoted to the
propagandism of the Roman Catholic faith; and that the Bill confers
these powers is, they say, made clearly evident by the clause that
places these matters in the hands of an executive "directed by Irish
Act." By virtue of his position they have already nominated Archbishop
Walsh on this executive, with other ecclesiastics of like kidney. This
they admit is a good mouthful, but they scornfully assert that while
Mr. Gladstone has left them income-tax to pay, he has also loaded them
with the Post Office, a Greek gift, which under the best English
management is worked at a loss of fifty thousand pounds a year! The
two Home Rulers who in my hearing so ruthlessly dissected the Bill
made merry over the clause which excludes the Irish Government from
all control of the "foreign mails or submarine telegraphs or
through-lines in connection therewith," pouring on the unhappy
sentence whole cataracts of ridicule. "We have the thing in our hands,
and we are not to control its working," said they. "The cable between
England and America passes through Ireland, will be worked by our
servants, by people who will look to us as their paymasters, and we
are to have no control!" The preposterous absurdity of the notion
tickled the entire company. "But if England does not please us, can we
not cut the cable? Can we not order our own paid servants to cease
transmitting messages, or to transmit only such as have survived the
inspection of the accredited officials of the Irish people?" It was
thought that this was reasonable and a possible, nay a probable
conjuncture, and might be used as a weapon to damage English trade.
"Let them go round or lay another cable," said one patriot.

This sort of discussion, more or less reasonable, is everywhere heard,
and should be of some value in indicating the use Irishmen expect to
make of the Act. Not a single friendly syllable, not a word of
amicable fellowship with England, not a scintilla of gratitude for
favours past or to come, nothing but undisguised animosity, and a
fixed resolution to make every clause of the Act a battlefield. I
speak that I do know and testify that I have seen. My personal
relations with the Irish people have been and continue to be of the
most gratifying kind. In the homes of the highest, in the great
manufactories, even in the lowest slums I have seen much that is
attractive in the Irish character--much that excites warm interest,
and is calculated to attach you to the people. I have conversed with
scores of Home Rulers of all shades, and to the query as to whether
ultimate separation is hoped for, I have received an invariable
affirmative. True it is that the answer varied in terms from the blunt
"Yes" of the uncompromising man to the more or less veiled assent of
the more cautious, but the result was in substance ever the same. Talk
about the Union of Hearts, the pacification of Ireland, the brotherly
love that is to ensue, and the Unionists turn away with undissembled
impatience, the Home Rulers with a chuckle and a sneer. As well tell
reasonable Irishmen that the world is flat, or that a straight line
between two given points is the longest, or that the sun moves round
the moon, or any other inane absurdity contrary to the evidence of
science and their senses. The English Gladstonians who babble about
brotherly love and conciliation should move about Dublin in disguise.
Disguise would in their case be necessary to get at the truth, for
Paddy is a shrewd trickster, and delights in humbugging this species
of visitor, whom he calls "the slobbering Saxon." Then if they would
return and still vote for Home Rule they are no less than traitors to
their country and enemies to their fellow-country men.

The weather is very fine, and the fashionable resorts are fairly well
frequented, but trade daily grows worse. Wholesale houses, says a high
authority, are "not dull, but stone dead." The pious Irish fast and
pray during the week, and the great Roman Catholic Retreat at Milltown
is crowded to the limits of its accommodation. The ladies wear a kind
of half-mourning, a stylish sort of reminder of original sin.
Sackcloth and ashes in Catholic Dublin consist of fetching brown,
grey, or tan costumes, set off with huge bunches of fragrant violets,
tied with a bow the exact shade of the flower, or a dull shade of
purple, a sort of Lenten lugubriousness particularly becoming to
blonde penitents. The ladies are indefatigable in their efforts
against Home Rule, and one distinguished canvasser for signatures to
the Roman Catholic petition has been warned by the police, as she
values her life, to leave Dublin for a time. The ruffian class,
needless to say, has undergone no change, but still demands the bill,
and this delicate lady, for years foremost in every good and
charitable work, is driven from her home by threatening letters--that
accursed resort to anonymous intimidation which so discredits the
Irish claim to superior courage and chivalry. The Catholics of Dublin
are signing numerously, but the number of signatories by no means
represents the opponents of the Bill.

Englishmen cannot be brought to realise for one moment the system of
terrorism and intimidation which prevails even in the very heart of
the capital. Parnellite spies are everywhere and know everything, and
woe to the helpless man who dares to have a mind of his own. And not
only are the poor coerced and deprived of the liberty of the subject,
but the wealthiest manufacturers--men whose firms are of the greatest
magnitude--will caution you against using their names in connection
with anything that could give a clue to their real sentiments. This
difficulty arises everywhere and information can only be extracted
after a promise that its source shall never be disclosed. The priests
are credited with unheard-of influence among the poor. "At the present
moment the ruffians are held in leash. The order has gone forth that
pending the Home Rule debate they are to 'be good.' But if I sign that
petition, although here in Dublin, the thing would be known at Tralee,
200 miles away, before I reached home--and a hundred to one that the
first blackguard that passed would put a match in my thatch, would
burn my stacks, would hough or mutilate my cattle." The speaker was a
Roman Catholic farmer from Kerry. Mr. Morley, in stating that the
prosecution of the Rev. Robert Eager had ceased and determined, was
utterly wrong. The rector's cousin, Mr. W.J. Eager, also of Tralee,
told me that threatening letters with coffins and cross-bones were
still pouring in in profusion. Mr. Eager was calmly requested to give
up land which he had held for 15 years to a man who had previously
rented it, and as the good parson failed to see the force of this
argument he is threatened with a violent death. In England such a
thing could only happen in a pantomime, but some of the Irish think it
the quintessence of reasonable action. These are the class that
support the Bill; these are the men Mr. Gladstone and his
conglomeration of cranks and faddists hope to satisfy. A brilliant
kind of prospect for poor John Bull.

Mr. John Morley should accompany me in my peregrinations among the
intelligent voters who have placed him and his great chief in power,
along with the galaxy of minor stars which rise with the Grand Man's
rising and set at his setting. "The British Government won't allow us
to work the gold mines in the Wicklow mountains. Whin we get the Bill
every man can take a shpade, an' begorra! can dig what he wants." "The
Phaynix Park is all cramfull o' coal that the Castle folks won't allow
us to dig, bad scran to them. Whin we get the Bill wu'll sink thim
mines an' send the Castle to Blazes." But the quaintest, the funniest,
the most sweetly ingenuous of the lot was the reason given by a
gentleman of patriarchal age and powerful odour, whom I encountered in
Hamilton's Lane. He said, "Ye see, Sorr, this is the way iv it. 'Tis
the Americans we'll look to, by raison that they're mostly our own
folks. They're powerful big invintors, but bedad, they haven't the
wather power to work the invintions. Now _we_ have the wather power,
an' the invintions 'll be brought over here to be worked. An' that'll
give the poor folks imploymint."

The poor man's ignorance was doubtless dense, his credulity amusing,
his childlike simplicity interesting. But the darkness of his
ignorance was no blacker, the extent of his credulity no more amazing,
than the ignorance and credulity of English Gladstonian speakers, who,
with a Primitive Methodist accent and a Salvation Army voice,
proclaim, with a Bible twang, their conviction that Home Rule means
the friendship of Ireland.

Dublin, March 30th.

No. 3.--ULSTER'S PREPARATIONS FOR WAR.

Ulster will fight, and fight to the death. The people have taken a
resolution--deep, stern, and irrevocable. Outwardly they do not seem
so troubled as the Dubliners. They are quiet in their movements,
moderate in their speech. They show no kind of alarm, for they know
their own strength, and are fully prepared for the worst. They speak
and act like men whose minds are made up, who will use every
Constitutional means of maintaining their freedom, and, these failing,
will take the matter in their own strong hands. Meanwhile they
preserve external calm, and systematically make their arrangements. If
ever they went through a talking stage, that is now over. They have
passed the time of discussion, and are preparing for action. If ever
they showed heat, that period also is past. They have reached the cold
stage, in which men act on ascertained principles and not in the
frenzy of passion. There is nothing hysterical about the Belfast men.
They are by no means the kind of people who run hither and thither
wringing their hands. Neither are they men who will sit down under
oppression. And oppression is what they expect from a Dublin
Government. Mr. Gladstone and his tribe may pooh-pooh this notion, but
the feeling in Ulster is strong and immovable. The tens of thousands
of Protestants thickly scattered over other provinces feel more
strongly still; as well they may, for they have not the numbers, the
organisation, the unity which is strength, that characterise the
province of Ulster. They hold that Home Rule is at the bottom a
religious movement, that by circuitous methods, and subterranean
strategy, the religious re-conquest of the island is sought; that the
ignorant peasantry, composing the large majority of the electorate,
are entirely in the hands of the priests, and that these black swarms
of Papists have a congenital hatred of England, which must bring about
separation. These are the opinions of thousands of eminent men whose
ability is beyond argument, who have lived all their lives on the
spot, who from childhood have had innumerable facilities for knowing
the truth, whose interests are bound up with the prosperity of
Ireland, and who, on every ground, are admittedly the best judges.
Said Mr. Albert Quill, the Dublin barrister:--

"Mr. Gladstone, who in eighty-four years has spent a week in Ireland,
puts aside Sir Edward Harland, who has built a fleet of great ships in
an Irish port, and sneers at the opinion of the Belfast deputation who
have lived all their lives in Ireland." A Roman Catholic Unionist, an
eminent physician, said to me:--

"I fear that Catholicism would ultimately lose by the change, although
at first it would undoubtedly obtain a strong ascendant. The bulk of
the Irish Catholics have a deep animosity to the English people, whom
they regard as heretics, and the Protestants of Ireland would in
self-defence be compelled to band themselves together, for underneath
the specious surface of the Home Rule movement are the teeth and claws
of the tiger. Persecution would follow separation, which is inevitable
if the present bill be carried. A Dublin Parliament would make a
Protestant's life a burden. This would react in time, and Catholicism
would suffer in the long run. And for this reason, amongst others, I
am against Home Rule."

But what are the Belfast men doing? _Imprimis_ they are working in
what may be called the regular English methods. Unionist clubs are
springing up in all directions. The Earl of Ranfurly opened three in
one evening, and others spring up almost every day. The Ulster
Anti-Repeal and Loyalist Association will during the month of April
hold over three hundred meetings in England, all manned by competent
speakers. The Irish Unionist Association and the Conservative
Association are likewise doing excellent work, which is patent to
everybody. But other associations which do not need public offices are
flourishing like green bay trees, and their work is eminently
suggestive. By virtue of an all-powerful introduction, I yesterday
visited what may be called the Ulster war department, and there saw
regular preparation for an open campaign, the preliminaries for which
are under eminently able superintendence. The tables are covered with
documents connected with the sale and purchase of rifles and munitions
of war. One of them sets forth the particulars of a German offer of
245,000 Mauser rifles, the arm last discarded by the Prussian
Government, with 50,000,000 cartridges. As the first 150,000 Mausers
were manufactured by the National Arms and Ammunition Company,
Sparkbrook, Birmingham, it may be interesting to record that the
quoted price was 16s. each, the cartridges being thrown in for
nothing. Another offer referred to 149,000 stand of arms, with
30,000,000 cartridges. A third document, the aspect of which to a
native of Brum was like rivers of water in a thirsty land, was said to
have been summarily set aside by reason of the comparative antiquity
of the excellent weapon offered, notwithstanding the tempting lowness
of the quoted price.

A novel and unexpected accession of information was the revelation of
a deep and sincere sympathy among the working men of England, who,
with gentlemen of position and rifle volunteers by hundreds and
thousands, are offering their services in the field, should civil war
ensue. The letters were shown to me, all carefully filed, and
sufficient liberty was permitted to enable me to be satisfied as to
the tenour of their contents. Among the more important was a short
note from a distinguished personage, offering a contribution of £500,
with his guarantee of a force of two hundred men. This also was from
England, a fact which the scoffers at Ulster will do well to read,
mark, learn, and inwardly digest. The guarantee fund for the first
campaign now amounts to nearly a million and a half, which the best
financial authority of Belfast tells me is "as good as the Bank of
England." What the Dublin police-sergeant said of John Bull may also
be said of the Ulsterman--"He may have faults, but--he Pays!" Funds
for current purposes are readily forthcoming, £50,000 being already in
hand, while promises of a whole year's income seem thick as autumnal
leaves in Vallombrosa. No means is left untried, no stone is left
unturned to render abortive what the dry and caustic Northerners call
the Home Ruin Bill, or the Bill for the _Bitter_ Government of
Ireland.

Moving hourly among people accurately and minutely acquainted with the
local position, you cannot fail to be struck by the marvellous
unanimity with which all Irish Unionists predict the exact result of
such a bill as constitutes the present bone of contention, and their
precise agreement as to concerted action should the crisis arise. They
ridicule the English notion that they intend to take the field at
once. Nothing of the kind. They will await the imposition of taxes by
a Dublin Parliament, and will steadfastly refuse to pay. The money
must then be collected by force of arms, that is, by the Royal Irish
Constabulary, who will be met by men who under their very noses are
now becoming expert in battalion drill, having mastered company drill,
with manual and firing exercise; and whose numbers--I love to be
particular--amount to the respectable total of one hundred and
sixty-four thousand six hundred and fourteen, all duly enrolled and
pledged to act together anywhere and at any time, most of them already
well armed, and the remainder about to be furnished with splendid and
effective weapons, which before this appears in print will have been
landed from a specially chartered steamer, and instantly distributed
from a spot I am forbidden to indicate, by an organisation specially
created for the purpose.

All these particulars--and more--were furnished by gentlemen of high
position and unimpeachable integrity, whose statements, of themselves
sufficient, were abundantly confirmed by the exhibition under
restrictive pledges, of undeniable documentary proofs, with partial
but satisfactory glimpses of the work actually in hand. No vapouring
here, no breathless haste, not a suspicion of excitement. Nothing but
a cold, emotionless, methodical, business-like precision, a
well-considered series of commercial transactions, conducted by men
specially acquainted with the articles required and regularly trained
to office routine. English Home Rulers, unable to see a yard in front
of them, whose training and instincts are of the goody-goody, milk and
water type,--the lily-livered weaklings, who measure the courage of
others by their own,--may be excused their inability to conceive the
situation. They cannot understand the dour, unyielding spirit of the
Ulsterman in a matter which affects his property, his religion, his
freedom. A party backboneless as the Globerigina ooze, and, like that
sub-Atlantic production, only held together by its own sliminess, must
ever fail to realise the grit which means resistance, sacrifice,
endurance; cannot grasp the outlines of the Ulster character and
spirit, which resemble those which actuated the Scottish Covenanters,
the Puritan army of Cromwell, or even--and this illustration should be
especially grateful to Gladstonians--the Dutch Boers of the Transvaal.

But although the surface is placid the depths are turbulent. If Dublin
is simmering, Belfast is boiling. The breed is different. The
Northerner is not demonstrative, is slow to anger, but being moved is
not easily appeased. The typical Irishman, with his cutaway coat, his
pipe stuck in his conical caubeen, his "sprig of shillelagh," or
bludgeon the Donnybrook Fair hero who "shpinds half a-crown, Mates wid
a frind An' (for love) knocks him down" is totally unknown in these
regions. The men who by their ability and industry have lifted Ireland
out of the slough, given her prosperity and comparative affluence,
marched hand in hand with the English people, have only seen, with
wonder, the rollicking Kelt, devoid of care, forethought, and
responsibility, during their trips to the South and West--or wherever
Home Rulers most do congregate. Strange it is, but perfectly true,
that in most cases an Irishman's politics may be determined by outward
and visible signs, so plain that he who runs may read. In Dundalk,
which should be a thriving port, you see in and around the town long
rows of low thatch-covered cabins, with putrid dunghills
"convaynient," dirty, half-fed, barefooted children, and--magnificent
Catholic churches. Home Rule rules the roost. As you move northwards,
the symptoms of poverty gradually disappear. Scarva, the annual
meeting ground of 5,000 to 10,000 Orangemen, who on July 13, the day
after the anniversary of the battle of the Boyne, fight the battle
o'er again, with a King William and a King James, mounted respectively
on their regulation white and bay chargers--Scarva is neat, clean and
civilised. Bessbrook, the Quaker colony, is, as might be expected, a
model community. Lurgan is well built, smart, trim, and delightful, a
wealthy manufacturing place with the general aspect of Leamington. As
the train steamed into the station an American traveller took a
general survey of the district, and said to the general company--

"I reckon this is a Unionist place."

A fierce-looking man from Dundalk admitted the soft impeachment.

"Thought so. Can spot a Home Rule town far off as I can see it. Mud
huts, whitewashed cabins with no upstairs, muck-heaps, and bad fences.
Can spot a Home Ruler as far as I can see him. Darned if I couldn't
track him by scent, like a foxhound. That's the rank and file--very
rank, I should say, most of them. And old J. Bull concludes to let the
dunghill folks, powerful lazy beggars they seem, come top-sawyer over
the fellows that built a place like this, eh?"

The Newry man, taking off his hat, revealing a head of hair like a
disorderly halo, took from the lining a little paper which called upon
the Irish peasantry to remember their wrongs, referred to the time
when Englishmen could murder Irishmen with impunity, stated that the
thing had often been done, and called upon every male from fifteen to
fifty to enrol himself in the Irish Independent Army--referring to the
Protestants as "a cruel and bloody minority." The Yankee returned the
bill contemptuously.

"You think this a question of counting noses. Now, I'm a sympathiser
of Home Rule, but if I was J.B. it would be different. I'm hanged if I
would not stick to my clean, clever, faithful friends, though they
were outnumbered by twenty to one. An' I'm a Republican, mind ye that.
Ye might ask me to put the muck-heap men at the head of affairs--ye
might ask till doomsday, but ye'd never get it. An' any man's a fool
that would do it."

A placard announcing the formation of an Irish Army of Independence,
and calling on the people to enrol themselves, has been extensively
circulated, and it is said that the Roman Catholics, like the
Protestants, are industriously drilling, north, south, east and west.
I am careful to use the term Protestants, as the force available is
drawn from the general body of Nonconformists. Orangemen are members
of the Church of Ireland, and have always been regarded as
Conservative. On the contrary, Presbyterians and Methodists are
considered to be advanced Liberals, and herein lies a popular English
fallacy--Gladstonians often refer to the Orange agitation against the
disestablishment of the Irish Church, which they would fain compare
with the present opposition to Home Rule, forgetting or ignoring the
fact that the strength of Ulster resides in the Nonconformist bodies,
and that these were all in favour of disestablishment, leaving the
Orangemen in a hopeless minority. Now, however, the Nonconformists
have joined their forces with those of the Orange bodies, which
creates a very different aspect of affairs. The English Home Rulers
say the opposition will end in smoke. It is said that the most insane
are sometimes wiser than they dream, just as liars sometimes speak
truth by accident. The movement will end in smoke, but it will be the
smoke of battle. Every man who supports the Home Rule Bill incurs the
stigma of blood-guiltiness. The bill that succeeds Home Rule will be
the Butchers' Bill. No doubt Mr. Gladstone will explain away the
"painful occurrences which we all deplore," and will endeavour to
transfer the blame to other shoulders. His talent for explanation is
unapproachable, but unhappily he cannot explain the slain to life
again.

In a former letter I pointed out how cleverly the Nationalists dissect
the bill, how they point out that its proposals are insulting to
Ireland, how they prove that its provisions are inconsistent and
unworkable, how they propose to discount the trumpery restrictions and
the gimcrack "safeguards" of the proposed measure, how in short, they
tear the bill to rags, laugh its powers to scorn, and hold its authors
in high derision. The Belfast men do not discuss the bill, do not
examine it clause by clause, do not quibble over the purport of this
or the probable effect of that, do not ask how the customs are to be
collected, or who is to pay for this, that, or the other. They descend
to no details, enter into no particulars, point out no minor
fallacies, argue no questions of the ultimate effect of any one
section of the bill. They reject the measure as a whole. The principle
is bad, radically rotten, and cannot be amended. With the Home Rulers
they agree that the bill means Separation, and therefore they put it
away _en bloc_. They will have no part with the unclean thing, but
cast it to the winds, bundle it out neck and crop, kick it downstairs,
treat it with immeasurable contempt. They are well versed in the broad
principles of Constitutional law, as it at present exists; will tell
you that the Irish Constabulary is the only force that can be brought
against them for the collection of the taxes, which they will
absolutely refuse; declare that the military can only be used against
them for this purpose by Act of Parliament; cite the preamble of the
Army Bill, which shows that there is no standing army, but only a
force renewed in its functions from year to year; show that the
monarch has ceased to be generalissimo of the British troops since
such a year, refer to the sad case of Charles I., who would fain have
collected Ship-money from a certain John Hampden, and endeavoured to
use the English army for this laudable purpose, meeting a fate at once
horrible and instructive. Then comes the application. Similar causes,
say they, will bring about similar effects, and if the quality and
temper of the people be considered their arguments seem reasonable.

The Irish army of Independence is already a subject of mockery. "Ten
of our men would make a hundred of them run like hares. On the 27th
ult. a party of Orangemen were fired upon near Stewartstown, and
although unarmed they stormed the hill whence came the shots, while
the heroic riflemen who had fired 14 bullets, luckily without effect,
showed that if too cowardly to fight, they were not too lazy to run."
This occurrence, of which I had the description from authority, would
have excited some attention in England, but here it is lightly passed
over as nothing exceptional. "We are holding back our men. The other
party are egging us on to outbreak, in the hope that our cause will be
discredited, and that Lord Salisbury's visit in May might be
hindered." There is a mutual repugnance between the two peoples, but
the character of the repulsion is different. The Roman Catholics
manifest an unmistakable hatred--the term is no whit too strong--a
hatred of the social and intellectual superiority of their
fellow-countrymen, who in turn look upon the Catholics (as a whole)
with mistrust, mingled with contempt. As well ask Brother Jonathan to
submit to the rule of the negro, as well ask the London trader to put
his interests in the hands of a Seven Dials' syndicate, as well ask
Mr. Gladstone and his followers to listen to reason or to talk common
sense, as to expect the powerful and influential Protestants of
Belfast and Ulster generally to entrust their future to a Legislature
elected by the most illiterate electorate in the three kingdoms, and
under the thumb of the priests--who wield a despotic power which
people in England cannot be made to understand. A short time ago the
Dublin Freemasons held a bazaar in aid of a charity whose object was
the complete care of orphan children. The Catholic Archbishop
immediately fulminated a decree that whosoever patronised the show
would incur the terrors of the church, which means that they would
perish everlastingly. Some poor folks, servant girls and porters and
the like, who were sent by their mistresses or called by their honest
avocations, dared to enter the accursed precincts, and emerging alive,
rushed to confession, that the leprosy of Masonic charity might be
washed from their souls by absolution.

Absolution was refused. The wretched outcasts were referred to the
Bishop, who in this dire emergency had sole power to unlock the gates
of heaven. Do English people know what an Irish Catholic feels when
refused absolution? I trow not, and that therefore they cannot justly
estimate the power of the priests. Another illustration. A friend of
mine made some purchases and sent a man for them, one of five hundred
Catholics in his employ. The poor fellow halted two hundred yards from
the contaminating circle, and by the aid of a policeman, got the
parcel brought to him--without risking his immortal soul.

The bazaar realised twenty-two thousand pounds.

The Ireland of the harp and vesper bell, free from the dominion of
England, having the prestige of an independent Catholic State, the
Ireland of excommunication by bell, book, and candle, the Ireland of
the priest and Pope--that, and no other, according to Ulstermen, is
the ultimate end of Home Rule. They will have none of it, their
determination is announced, and they will stand by what they say. From
what I have seen and heard I am convinced that Ulster means business,
and also has the power to win. The Irish Unionists are worthy
co-partners in the great fight, and Englishmen should stand with them
shoulder to shoulder. But with or without English aid, Ulster may be
trusted to hold its own.

Belfast, April 1st.

No. 4.--MR. BALFOUR'S WELCOME.

Arriving in the northern capital from Dublin you are apt to experience
a kind of chill, akin to that felt by the boy of easy-going parents
who, visiting the house of a staid and sober uncle, said to his little
cousins, "At home we can fight with pillows, and let off crackers in
the kitchen, and ride on the poker and tongs across the dining-room
tables, and shy oranges at the chimney ornaments, and cut the sofas
and pull out the stuffing, but here we get no fun at all!" The
effervescence of the sunny south is conspicuous by its absence, and be
it observed that the political south and the geographical south of
Ireland are entirely different, the Ulstermen invariably using the
term to denote an imaginary line across the country just above
Dundalk. The mention of this town reminds me of a Cork commercial
traveller's description of the Dundalk festivities in connection with
the visit of our famous citizen, Mr. Egan, on the occasion of his
release--"There was a murtherin' big crowd o' the greatest ruffians ye
ever clapped your two eyes on. Some o' them had long sticks with a
lump o' tow on the end, steeped in petroleum or something equally
inflammable, an' whin they got the word to march--the hero was in a
brake--they lit up and walked away in procession without looking at
him at all, or taking any notice of him, which was moighty strange, I
thought. They went on an' on, a lot o' rapscallions ye wouldn't like
to meet in a lonely lane, and whin the brake stopped, for some reason
or other, the whole o' them were unconscious of it, an' marched on
without the grate man, leaving him an' his brake alone. I had the
curiosity to go to the meetin'. There were two factions in the town,
an' only one of them was riprisinted, the others stood aloof. They are
at daggers drawn, flyin' at each other's throat, although Catholics
and Home Rulers, an' this meetin' was the funniest thing at all! The
chairman was a common fellow that made money some way, an' ye may say
he liked to hear himself spake. An' be the powdhers o' war, he had the
convaniences for speech-makin', for he had a jaw like a bulldog, an' a
mouth on him ye couldn't span with your two hands." Further
description proceeded in the same strain, and even allowing for the
exuberancies of my friend's southern imagination, and his wide command
of figurative language, this account of the kind of people who
constitute ninety-nine hundredths of Mr. Gladstone's allies should
give Home Rulers pause.

There is no lack of enthusiasm here, but the people mind their work,
and do not bubble over every five minutes. They certainly showed
warmth on Monday morning, and never was popular ruler, victorious
general, or famous statesman welcomed with more spontaneous burst of
popular acclaim. York Street was literally full of all classes of
people, save and except the typical Irish poor. Of the tens of
thousands who filled Royal Avenue, Donegal Place, and the broad road
to the North Counties Railway, I saw none poorly clad. All were well
dressed, orderly, respectable, and wonderfully good-humoured, besides
being the tallest and best-grown people I have ever seen in a fairly
extensive European experience. I was admitted to the station with a
little knot, comprising the Marquess of Ormonde, Lord Londonderry, the
gigantic Dr. Kane, head of the Ulster Orangemen, and Colonel
Saunderson, full as ever of fun and fight. It was at first intended to
keep the people outside, and a strong detachment of police guarded the
great gates, but in vain. They were swept away by mere pressure, and
the people occupied the place to the number of many thousands, mostly
wearing primroses. As the train steamed in there was a tremendous rush
and cheering--genuine British cheering, such as that with which
Birmingham used on great occasions to greet John Bright--rendering
almost inaudible the numerous explosions of fog-signals which perhaps
by way of salute had been placed at the entrance to the station. There
was a mocking shout of "Dynamite," followed by a roar of laughter, and
despite the frantic efforts of the railway men, who humanely struggled
to avoid the seemingly impending sacrifices _à la_ Juggernaut, the
more active members of the crowd storming the train, instantly sprang
aloft and manned the tops of the carriages with a solid mass of
vociferating humanity. Soon Mr. Balfour's face appeared, and a moment
after he was standing amidst the throng, swayed hither and thither by
loyalists who shook his hands, patted him on the back, deafened him
with their cheers. Out came the horses, dashing through the people,
snorting and plunging like so many Gladstonians, but happily injuring
no one. In went the men, Mr. Balfour laughing merrily, and looking
uncommonly fit, lifting his soft brown hat in mute recognition of the
magnificent welcome accorded by men who are perhaps among the most
competent judges of his merit as a benefactor of Ireland. Away went
the carriage, amid tumultuous shouting of "No Home Rule," and "God
save the Queen." This went on for miles, from the Northern Counties'
Terminus to Victoria Street, when Lord Londonderry signalled to
quicken the pace, and after a short speech at the Albert Memorial, the
_cortége_ disappeared over the bridge, and I returned to meet the
English working men who arrived an hour later. Splendid it was to hear
the six hundred miners from Newcastle-on-Tyne shouting "Old Ireland
for ever!" while the generous Irishmen responded with "Rule Britannia"
and cheers for Old England. Cheers for Belfast and Newcastle
alternated with such stentorian vigour, each side shouting for the
other, that you might have been excused for imagining that the Union
of Hearts was an accomplished fact, and that brotherly love had begun
and must ever continue. Said a miner, "We're all surprised to see that
the people here are just like Englishmen. An' I'm blest if they aren't
more loyal than the English themselves."

From Monday morning the city has been resounding with beat of drum and
the shrill sounds of the fife. The houses are swathed in bunting, and
the public buildings were already covered with banners when I arrived
on Friday last. This, however is not characteristic Belfast form. The
Belfasters _can_ rejoice, and whatever they do, is thoroughly done,
but work is their vocation, as befits their grave and sober mood. They
are great at figures, and by them they try to show that they, and not
the Dubliners, should be first considered. They are practical, and
although not without sentiment, avoid all useless manifestation of
mere feeling. They are mainly utilitarian, and prefer mathematical
proof, on which they themselves propose to rely, in proving their
case. Here is an instance. A Belfast accountant, who is also a public
officer, has collected a number of comparative figures on which he
bases the claims of Belfast to prior consideration. The figures are
certainly exact, and are submitted as evidence of the superior
business management, and larger, keener capacity of Protestant Belfast
as compared with those of Catholic Dublin. Beginning with the
functions of the Dublin Lord Mayor, secretary, and so forth, which
cost £4,967 a year, it is shown that the same work in Belfast--which
is rather larger than Dublin--costs only £176. Let us tabulate a few
representative cases:--

                                                   Dublin.   Belfast.

Mayor, &c.                                           £4,967       £176
Town Clerk, secretaries of committees, law agents     5,659      2,752
Treasurer, accountants, stock registrar               3,402      2,168
Fire Brigade, salaries and lighting                   3,616      1,247
Coroners, sanitary officials                          3,530      1,310
Wages of sanitary staff                               2,233      1,130
Surveyors (borough & waterworks) and Secretaries      6,070      4,472
Clerks of Peace and Revision Officers                 2,451      1,552
                                                     ------     ------
                 Totals                             £31,928    £14,807

This discrepancy is everywhere observable. The Dublin Gas
Management costs £14,850 against £8,060 in Belfast, with the
result that the Ulster City Gasworks yielded in 1891 a profit of
£27,105, charging 2s. 9d., while the Dubliners charge 3s. 6d. and
make no profit at all. The Belfast markets yield a profit of about
£3,500, while on the Dublin markets and abattoir there was a
deficit of £3,012 to be made good by the ratepayers. Dublin, with
property amounting to £20,000 a year and old-established Royal
bounties, owes nearly twice as much as Belfast, which latter city
spends more on what may be called the advance of civilisation.
In 1892 Belfast spent £8,000 on a public park--Government
providing for this matter in Dublin--£5,686 on public libraries,
and £4,100 on baths and workhouses, against £1,217 and £1,627
for like purposes in Dublin. "Therefore," say the Belfast men,
"we will not have our affairs managed by these incompetent men,
who, besides their demonstrated incapacity to deal with finance, are
dependent for their position on the illiterates of the agricultural
districts, who are to a man under the thumb of the priests, and who,
moreover, have shown that their rapacity is equal to their lack of
integrity, and whose leading doctrine is the repudiation of lawful
contracts," a point on which commercial Ulster is excessively severe.
One thing is certain--Ulster will never pay taxes levied by an Irish
Legislature in which Ulster would be utterly swamped. All classes
are of this opinion, from the Earl of Ranfurly, who during a long
interview repeatedly expressed his conviction that the passing of
any Home Rule Bill would be fraught with most lamentable results,
to the humble trimmer of a suburban hedge who, having admitted
that he was from the county Roscommon, and (therefore) a Catholic
Home Ruler, claimed to know the Ulster temper in virtue of 28
years' residence in or near Belfast, and said--

"What they say they mane, an' the divil himself wouldn't tur-r-n thim.
Ah, but they're a har-r-d-timpered breed, ivery mother's son o' them.
Ye can comether (gammon) a Roscommon man, but a Bilfast man,
whillaloo!" He stopped in sheer despair of finding words to express
the futility of attempting to take in a Belfast man. "An' whin ye ax
thim for taxes, an' they say they won't pay--ye might jist as well
whistle jigs to a milestone! 'Tis thrue what I tell ye."

As for to-day, the magnificence of the pageant beggars description.
Whether regarded from a scenic point of view or with respect to
numbers and enthusiasm, never since Belfast was Belfast has the city
looked upon a sight approaching it. From early morning brass bands and
fife bands commenced to enter the city from every point of the
compass, and wherever you turned the air resounded with the inspiring
rattle of the drum. Monday's display of bunting was sufficiently
lavish to suggest the impossibility of exhibiting any more, but the
Belfasters accomplished the feat, and the bright sunshine on the
brilliant colours of the myriad banners was strongly reminiscent of
Paris _en fête_ under the Empire. The Belfast streets are long,
straight, and wide, and mostly intersect at right angles. Much of the
concourse was thus visible from any moderate coign of vantage, and
from the Grand Stand in Donegal Place the sight was truly wonderful.
The vast space, right, left, and front, was from 10 o'clock closely
packed with a mighty multitude that no man could number, and
locomotion became every moment so painful as to threaten total
stagnation. The crowd was eminently respectable and perfectly orderly,
and submitted to the passage of innumerable musical organisations with
charming good humour. Never have I seen or heard of such an assemblage
of bands, all uniformed, all preceded by gorgeous banners bearing all
kinds of loyal and party mottoes, all marching in splendid military
fashion, and of themselves numerous enough to furnish a very
considerable demonstration. Many of the tunes were of a decidedly
martial character, and strange to English ears, such as the "Boyne
Water," the "Orange Lily" and the "Protestant Boys," the last being a
version of the "Lillibulero" so often mentioned by Scott. All these
tunes, more or less distasteful to Nationalists, were interspersed
with others less debatable, such as "Rule Britannia," "The Old Folks
at Home," "The Last Rose of Summer," "God Save the Queen," and "See
the Conquering Hero comes," which last generally accompanied the
portrait of Orange William, the "Glorious, Pious, and Immortal,"
mounted on his famous white charger, which noble animal is depicted in
the attitude erroneously believed to be peculiar to that of Bonaparte
when crossing the Alps. The Earl of Beaconsfield was also to the fore
with primroses galore; indeed, the favourite flower was invariably
worn by the ladies, who were greatly in evidence. "Our God, our
Country, and our Empire" was the motto over Mr. Balfour, with a huge
"Welcome" in white on scarlet ground, the whole surrounded by immense
Union Jacks. The familiar red, white, and blue bore the brunt of the
decorative responsibilities, although here and there the green flag of
Ireland hung cheek by jowl with the English standard, emphasising the
friendliness of the present Union. As time went on the crowd became
more and more dense, and a breathless pressman, who reached his post
at twelve o'clock, stated that the seething myriads of Donegal Place
and the adjacent streets were "hardly a circumstance" to what he had
seen in the York Road, where the people awaited the hero of the hour.
Things were getting serious at 12.15, and then it was that the active
members of the crowd swarmed on the railings, balancing themselves in
most uncomfortable situations, and maintaining their spiky seats with
a tenacious martyrdom which spoke volumes for the determination of the
Ulster character.

On and ever on went the bands in seemingly endless procession,
although merely assembling for the great march past, and therefore
only a fraction of the impending multitude. Some enterprising men
climbed the trees bordering the square, driving away the little flocks
of sparrows which till then had conducted a noisy committee meeting
in the branches, heedless of the drumming and general uproar, but
which now dispersed without so much as a vote of thanks to the chair.
At 12.30 a foam of white faces broke over the roofs of the lofty
buildings around, protected by stone balustrades. At the same moment a
shout of "They are coming" was heard, followed fey a thunderous roar
of cheering. Mr. Balfour slowly emerged from York Road, amid immense
acclamation, his carriage, piloted by the Corporation, moving inch by
inch through the solid mass with inconceivable difficulty. Over and
over again the line of vehicles stopped dead, and it was clear that
the horses had much trouble to maintain their gravity. As the carriage
with Sir Daniel Dixon (the Lord Mayor of Belfast), Sir Samuel Black
(Town Clerk), and Lord Londonderry neared the Grand Stand, the
pressmen agreed that nothing equal to this demonstration had ever
before been held within the British Islands. Mr. Balfour having gained
the platform the procession proper commenced, headed by the banner of
the Belfast Harbour Commissioners, while the people broke into a
chorus, asserting that Britons never, never shall be slaves.

This at 12.35 precisely. Next came the Belfast Water Commissioners,
the Belfast Board of Guardians, the provincial Corporate bodies, and
the provincial Boards of Guardians. A tremendous tumult of voices
accompanied all these, but when the Trinity College graduates arrived
the din became overpowering. Their standard was halted opposite Mr.
Balfour, and the young fellows burst into wild and uncontrollable
enthusiasm. The medical students of Queen's College, Belfast, with the
_alumni_ of the Methodist and Presbyterian College succeeding, gave
"God Save the Queen" with great vigour, and came in a close second;
but nothing quite touched the Trinity College men. The Scottish
Unionist clubs, a fine body, two thousand strong, confirmed the
statement that Scots who understand the situation are against Home
Rule. Most of these men work in the shipbuilding yards of Belfast. The
Belfast Unionist Clubs and the Provincial Unionist Clubs were, of
course, heartily greeted, returning the applause with interest, and
the Independent Order of Rechabites showed that their alleged
exclusive partiality for cold water had not diminished their lung
power. The British Order of Ancient Free Gardeners, the Loyal Order of
Ancient Shepherds, and the Independent Order of Oddfellows reminded
the Brutal Saxon who might be present of his native shore, the men
being of the familiar sturdy type, marching in dense columns, all
gloriously arrayed. There was none of the artful spreading over the
ground which I observed in the great Birmingham demonstration which
was to "end or mend" the Lords; and another point of divergency
consists in the fact that the Belfast demonstration, which was
incomparably larger, was perfectly spontaneous, and not due to
organisation.

Baronets and other gentlemen of distinction headed the Unionist clubs,
walking through the streets in such manner as was never known before.
Magistrates and Presbyterian ministers tramped with the rank and file.
Sir William Ewart, Bart., Mr. Thomas Sinclair, J.P.--a great name in
the city--and the Rev. Dr. Lynd were especially prominent. Some of the
teetotallers wore white sashes, which were perhaps more conspicuous
than the gaudy colours affected by the Orangemen, and one body of
Unionists from the suburban clubs waved white handkerchiefs, a feature
which for obvious reasons can never occur in Nationalist processions.
The Shepherds have a pastoral dress, each man carrying a crook, and
the marshals of the lodges bore long halberds. The van of each column
was preceded by a stout fellow, who dexterously raising a long staff
in a twirling fashion peculiar to Ireland, shouted, "Faugh-a-Ballagh,"
which being interpreted signifies "Clear the way." The Oddfellows
marched to the tune known in England as "We won't go home till
morning," which is the same as "Marlborough goes to war," the
favourite air of the Great Napoleon. All this time Mr. Balfour is
standing at my elbow as I write, bareheaded, acknowledging the finest
reception ever accorded to any man in Ireland, not excepting Dan
O'Connell and Parnell. The funeral of the uncrowned king was a
comparatively small affair, while the respectability of the crowd was
of course immeasurably below that of the Belfast concourse. An old man
somehow got near the platform and presented Mr. Balfour with a bunch
of orange lilies, saying that was the flower the people would fight
under. The Young Men's Christian Association cheered lustily for the
Union to the tune of three thousand strong. The Central Presbyterian
Association marched past singing "God is our refuge and our strength,"
and the Church of Ireland Young Men's Society, headed by the clergy,
superintended by the Bishop of the diocese from the stand, made a
brave and gallant show. Hour after hour glides by, and still the
teeming multitude moves on, and still Mr. Balfour stands uncovered. No
joke to be a hero nowadays. The "Young Irelands" gave a grand cheer,
and passed in brave array, singing with the Y.M.C.A. "Hold the Fort"
and "God Save the Queen." Dr. Kane, the Bishop of Clogher, Captain
Somerset Maxwell, Colonel Saunderson, and the Earl of Erne, Grand
Master of the Orangemen of Ireland, received a stupendous reception as
they followed the Young Men Christians, mustered in overwhelming
force. The "Marseillaise" here broke out with considerable severity,
and Mr. Balfour broke out into a broad smile, which ran over into a
laugh, as the too familiar strains of "Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay" made the
welkin ring. Then came "The March of the Men of Harlech," mixed with
"Home Sweet Home" and "The Boyne Water," till the senses reeled again.

At 3.35 the two miles of Orangemen seemed likely to go on for ever,
and Mr. Balfour said to me, "I think this demonstration undoubtedly
the greatest ever seen, and if you like you may convey that as my
message to the Unionists of Birmingham. They will know what the effect
of this will be. I need say no more." I asked Mr. Balfour if he
thought the bill would pass, and he replied, "Tell the Birmingham men
what I have said already. They will require no more." At 4.10 the
procession was in full swing, but Mr. Balfour seemed to have had about
enough and showed symptoms of making a move, and, as a preliminary,
put on his hat. This was the signal for cheering, which perhaps
surpassed anything that had gone before. The great ex-Irish-Secretary
effaced himself; and Colonel Saunderson, backed by Lord Salisbury's
son and several Irish peers, essayed to fill the gap. I ventured in my
timid way to tap the gallant Colonel on the shoulder with a view to
tapping his sentiments, which proved to be exultant. He told me of the
wire he had received from Lord Salisbury, and spoke of the meeting in
the Botanic Gardens which had taken place while I had watched the
procession. Then he said, "Tell the Birmingham people through the
_Gazette_ that as we have the last Prime Minister and the present
Chief of the Opposition with us, we cannot be called revolutionary. As
for this meeting, it will speak for itself. I think it the biggest
thing ever known." During the procession a copy of the Home Rule Bill
was burnt on the top of a pole in front of the Grand Stand.

After exactly four hours of watching, I accepted the proffered aid of
an Irish friend who agreed to lead me by roundabout ways to the
telegraph office. After many narrow passages and devious turns, we
struck the Royal Avenue, a long, long way from our starting place.
Here we took the still advancing procession in flank. It was now 4.45,
and my friend said, "By jabers, there's forty million more of them. I
believe the procession reaches all round the world, and moves in a
continuous band." And, sure enough, they were coming on as fresh as
ever, but I felt that four hours and a quarter of bands and drums was
enough at once, so I made a dash for the wires before they should be
absolutely blocked. My account is not, perhaps, quite perfect, but it
was pencilled under extraordinary circumstances--ten people talking to
me at once, a lady's umbrella in my side, a thousand people leaning on
my right elbow, and five hundred bands sounding in my ear. Surely it
may be said to have been written under fire.

Belfast, April 4th.

No. 5.--HAS MR. MORLEY LIED?

Before leaving Belfast I obtained incontrovertible evidence anent the
growing fears of Mr. Gladstone's Government. Mr. Morley has denied the
existence of any such nervousness, and has repudiated the assertion
that precautions have been taken. But what is the truth of the matter?
Let us see whether his statement is borne out by facts.

In February certain military officers received a confidential
communication having reference to the defence of the Belfast barracks.
They were requested to examine and report upon the possibility of
these buildings being tenable against a _coup de main_, were ordered
to examine the loop-holes for musketry, to prepare plans of the same,
and to duly submit them to the proper authorities, giving their
opinion as to the practicability and sufficiency of existing
arrangements in the event of the buildings being assaulted by
organised bodies of armed civilians, during the absence of soldiers
who might be about the city, taking their walks abroad, after the
regulation manner permitted to Mr. Thomas Atkins under ordinary
circumstances. The order was executed, the plans were duly furnished,
and if Mr. Morley is still unaware of the fact, I have much pleasure
in imparting the information which I have on the best authority
attainable in an imperfect world. He may rely on this statement as
being absolutely undeniable, and to descend to particulars, I will add
that plans were made of the Tram Stables Barracks, the Willow Bank
Barracks, and the Victoria Barracks. As I have said, the instructions
were marked Confidential, and the Irish Secretary may have relied on
this magic word in formulating his denials. The alternative hypothesis
is, of course, obvious enough. The work may have been ordered and
executed without Mr. Morley's knowledge, but it has been done, and,
after proper inquiry, he will not venture to deny it. The circumstance
is a curious commentary on the Gladstonian affectation of perfect
security, and the scornful references of Home Rulers to the alleged
determination of Ulstermen, in the last resource, to push matters to
extremity. I could tell him more than this. It would be easy to adduce
other instances of Governmental nervousness, but prudential and
confidential considerations intervene.

However, while in the vein, let me submit for serious contemplation
the fact that up to the morning postal delivery of Wednesday, April 5,
1893, written offers of personal assistance in the matter of armed
resistance to the exact number of ten thousand and five have reached a
certain Ulster organisation from England and Scotland, the roll
including five generals, with a percentage of Victoria Cross men. This
statement is made on the authority of the Earl of Ranfurly, who told
me that the matter was within his personal knowledge, and that the
whole of these communications were entirely spontaneous and altogether
unsolicited, and that nobody in Ireland was in any way responsible for
their existence. Lord Ranfurly also said that while the hearty
friendship and co-operation of these gentlemen were warmly appreciated
by Irish Loyalists, he was quite certain that their generous aid would
never be required, for that Home Rule was now defunct, dead, and
buried, and beyond the possibility of resurrection. It may be
remarked, in passing, that this is the feeling of the best-informed
Irish Home Rulers, and that many in my hearing have offered to back
their opinion by laying odds. The rejection of the Bill so far from
exasperating the Nationalist party, would positively come as a relief.
To say that they are lukewarm is only to fairly indicate a state of
feeling which is rapidly degenerating into frigidity. They declare
that the Bill is unworkable, and while maintaining their abstract
right to demand whatever they choose, believe that, taking one
consideration with another, the lot of autonomic Ireland would not be
a happy one.

Mr. Richard Patterson, J.P., the great ironmonger of Belfast, observes
that "according to Mr. Gladstone the only people who really understand
Ulster are those who have never been in it." My interview with him was
both instructive and interesting. He is one of the Harbour
Commissioners, and a gentleman of considerable scientific attainments,
as well as a great public and commercial man. He belongs to the Reform
Club and, with his fellow-members, was up to 1886 a devoted follower
of Mr. Gladstone. The name of his firm, established in 1786 on the
very ground it now occupies, is a household word in Ireland, and Mr.
Patterson himself has the respect and esteem of his bitterest
political opponents. He pointed out the unfairness and injustice of
Mr. Gladstone's reference to religion, when turning a deaf ear to the
Belfast deputation. "The report of the Chamber of Commerce," he said,
"was a purely business statement, and had no element of party feeling.
The fact that the Protestant members of the Chamber outnumber the
Catholics is in no respect due to religious intolerance, which in this
body is totally unknown. Anybody who pays a guinea a year may be
elected a member, whatever his religion, whatever his circumstances,
providing he is a decent member of society, which is the only
qualification required. Members are certainly elected by ballot, but
during the many years I have belonged to the Chamber not a single
person has been black-balled. If the Protestants are more numerous,
the fact simply demonstrates their superior prosperity, arising only
from their more steady application to hard work. We live on terms of
perfect friendship with our Catholic countrymen, and we assiduously
cultivate the sentiment. It is only when a weak and ignorant pandering
to disloyalty excites opposition that enmity begins. Only let us
alone, that is all we ask. We were going on beautifully until Mr.
Gladstone and his accomplices upset everything." Speaking of the
difference between the Ulster men and the Irish Kelts, Mr. Patterson
said, "Prosperity or the reverse is indicative of the breed. The
Southern Irish had more advantages than the Ulstermen. They had better
land, better harbours, a far more productive country, and yet they
always seethe in discontent. Put 20,000 Northerners in Cork, and in
twenty years the Southern port could knock Liverpool out of time."
Addressing himself to the Home Rule Bill, he declared that the
practical, keen-witted merchants of Belfast dismissed the whole
concoction as unworthy of sober consideration, and declared that an
awful responsibility rested on Mr. Gladstone. Said this experienced
J.P.:

"The Belfast riots of 1886 were terrible. Forty people were killed in
the streets, and what I saw in my capacity of magistrate was dreadful
in the extreme. The injuries from gun-shot wounds were almost
innumerable, and many a local doctor gained experience in this line
which is unknown to many an army surgeon. The riots began with the
ruffian class, from which this great city is not entirely free, and
gradually rose upwards to the shipbuilding yards. All this disturbance
and awful loss of life were entirely due to the production of Mr.
Gladstone's first bill. And now they tell us that a worse bill--for it
is a worse bill--might become law without any inconvenience. I submit
to any reasonable man that if the mere menace of a bill cost forty
lives in Belfast alone, the loss of life all over Ireland, once the
bill were passed, would be enormous. And all this will be attributable
to the action of Mr. Gladstone, who has never been in Ulster."

Walking down Royal Avenue I met Colonel Saunderson, radiant after the
great demonstration of two days ago, wearing a big bunch of violets in
place of Tuesday's bouquet of primroses. He stopped to express good
wishes to the _Gazette_, and said that the Belfasters were proud of
Birmingham, which city he regarded as being the most advanced and
enlightened in the world. While he so spake, up came the mighty Dr.
Kane, idol of the Ulsterites, towering over the gallant Colonel's
paltry six feet one, and looking down smilingly from his altitude in
infinite space on my own discreditable five feet ten. He agreed with
the Colonel as to the merits of Birmingham, and added that every
Unionist in Belfast cherished a deep sentiment of gratitude to the
hardware city, requesting me to explode the misleading statements of
the Separatist press, which asserts that Tuesday's procession
consisted of Orangemen. "The first two hours," said the Reverend
Doctor, "consisted of bodies who do not processionise, and who never
perform in public, in or out of Belfast, Methodists, Presbyterians,
and the like, while the 25,000 or 30,000 Orangemen who came in at the
tail of the show were a mere fraction of the whole. Colonel
Saunderson, the Earl of Erne, and myself stood up in our carriage and
cheered the Radical Reform Club, a thing we certainly have never done
before." Here the Colonel laughed, and said--

"The union of hearts, Doctor."

"Yes, the union of hearts and no mistake, as the Grand Old Man will
find--to his cost. All classes are united against the common enemy"
(Mr. Gladstone). "But tell me something--How is it that the English
people are deceived by that arch-professor of cant? Tell me that!"

I requested the good doctor to ask me something easier, and he
doubtless would have done so, but at this moment up came the famous
Dr. Traill, the Admirable Crichton of Ireland, and with my usual
thirst for knowledge, I ventured to suggest that the mathematical
intellect of the Trinity College Examiner might possibly grapple with
the problem.

The learned professor smiled, gripped my unworthy fin, shook out some
words of greeting, wagged his head hopelessly, and--bolted like a
rocket.

Dr. Traill is said to be equally versed in Law, Physic, and Divinity,
to sport with trigonometry, and to amuse his lighter moments with the
differential calculus. But "this knowledge was too wonderful for him,
he could not attain unto it," and to avoid confession of defeat, he
fled with lightning speed. This erudite doctor is well known in
England, especially among riflemen. Colonel Saunderson describes him
as a wonderful shot at a thousand yards, and thinks he was once one of
the Irish Eight at Wimbledon. I met him on the stand on Tuesday, when
he amusingly described his adventures on the Continent. "The poor
Poles," he said, "wished to take me to their collective bosom, and to
fall on my individual neck, the moment they found I was an Irishman.
They said we were brothers in misfortune!" Whereat this learned pundit
laughed good-humouredly. It may be that Dr. Traill is the long-range
rifleman of whom a Land League man remarked, on hearing that the
marksman had made a long series of bull's eyes--

"The saints betune us an' harm--but wouldn't he make an iligant
tenant!"

Dr. Kane was not surprised to see the professor run away. He said, "I
cannot understand it all. I must and will cross the Channel
immediately to investigate this strange phenomenon. I have always
considered the English a people of superior mental force, men who
could not be easily deceived. That they should pin their faith to a
man who has proved to demonstration that Home Rule is impossible, who
more than any other has branded the Nationalist party with ignominy, I
cannot understand." The Doctor perhaps momentarily forgot that the
English do not pin their faith to Mr. Gladstone, that the adverse
majority are dead against him, and that this majority is daily
increasing by leaps and bounds. Gallant Captain Leslie, whom I saw
earlier in the day, more accurately hit the situation. This splendid
old soldier said, "The English people are not to be blamed. Living
under social conditions of perfect freedom and friendship they do not
understand the conditions prevailing in Ireland; they cannot be
expected to understand a state of things differing so widely from
anything within the circle of their own experience. But all the same,
if they grant Home Rule, if they listen to the disloyal party rather
than to their loyal friends, if they truckle to treason rather than
support their own supporters, the consequences will be disastrous to
England, and where the disasters will stop is a piece of knowledge
which 'passes the wit of man.'"

Running up to Ballymena, I encountered several interesting
personalities, each of whom had his own view of the all-absorbing
subject, and looked at the matter from his own standpoint. An
Irish-American of high culture, a man of science, looked up from what
he regarded as "the most interesting book in existence," which turned
out to be Thompson's "Evolution of Sex," and said that once Home Rule
were in force the blackguard American-Irish would return in shoals,
and that the Fenians of America might be expected to "boss the show."
"How is it," he asked, "that the English people listen to what appears
the chief argument of Separatist orators--that agitation will come to
an end, that the Irish will be content to rest and be thankful?
Clearly while money and power can be had by agitation, so long will
agitation continue. That seems so obvious to me, that I wonder at the
patience of the North of England men--I was among them during the
general election--in listening quietly to this argument, if it be one
at all. And with all their experience of the past to enlighten them
into the bargain. Was not the disestablishment of the Church to remove
all cause of discontent? Then it was the land. You gave several Land
Acts, most favourable laws, very one-sided, all in favour of the
tenant, far beyond what English, Scotch, or Welsh farmers hope to get.
Have you satisfied Irishmen yet? No, and you never will. The more you
give, the more they ask. They never will be content. ''Tis not their
nature to.' England now suffers for her own weak good nature. The true
curse of Ireland is laziness. I left Belfast at twenty, but I am well
acquainted with Ireland. In the North they work and prosper. In the
South they do nothing but nurse their grievances. Twenty years' firm
government, as Lord Salisbury said, would enrich the country. Do the
right thing by them--put them level with England and Scotland, and
then put down your foot. Let them know that howling will do no good,
and they'll stop it like a shot. Paddy is mighty 'cute, and knows when
he has a _man_ to deal with. Put a noodle over him and that noodle's
life will be a burden. And serve him right. Fools must expect fools'
reward."

A Catholic priest I met elsewhere was very chary of his opinions, and
confined himself to the "hope that England would see her way to
compensate the Church and the country for centuries of extortion and
oppression." This he thought was a matter of "common honesty." He did
not exactly suggest a perpetual church-rate for the benefit of the
Catholics of Ireland, but the thing is on the cards, and may be
proposed by Mr. Gladstone later on. Something ought to be done,
something substantial, for the gentlemen educated under the Maynooth
Grant. Mr. Bull has admitted the principle, and his sense of fair play
will doubtless lead him to do the right thing, always, of course,
under compulsion, which is now usually regarded as the mainspring of
that estimable gentleman's supposed virtuous actions.

Ballymena is a smart looking place, trig and trim, thriving and
well-liking, a place to look upon and live. The people are all
well-clad, and prosperous, well-fed and well-grown. The men are mostly
big, the women mostly beautiful; the houses are of stone, handsome and
well-built. On the bleaching grounds you see long miles of
linen--Irish miles, of course--and all the surroundings are pleasant.
After this, no need to say the place is one of the blackest, most
Unionist, Protestant, and loyal in the whole country. A number of buff
placards issued by Nationalists attract respectful attention. The same
bill is stuck all over Belfast--in the High Street, on the hoardings
facing the heretic meeting houses, everywhere. It purports to present
the sentiments of the great Duke of Wellington _re_ the Roman
Catholics of Ireland, and is to the effect that in moments of danger
and difficulty the Roman Catholics had caused the British Empire to
float buoyant when other Empires were wrecked; that the Roman
Catholics of Ireland, and they only, had saved our freedom, our
Constitution, our institutions, and in short that it is to the Irish
Roman Catholics that we owe everything worth having. Alone they did
it. The priest, in short, has made Mr. Bull the man he is.

Can anybody in England "go one better" than this?

These extracts are plainly taken from some speech on the Roman
Catholic Emancipation Bill, and refer to the valour of the Irish
soldiery, whose bravery in fighting for a Protestant cause was
doubtless invaluable to the cause of liberty. There is an apocryphal
story concerning Alfred de Musset, who on his death-bed is reported to
have conveyed to a friend with his last breath his last, his only
wish, to wit:--

"Don't permit me to be annotated." The Iron Duke might have said the
same if he had thought of it. He could not know that, shorn of his
context, divorced from his drift, he would be placarded in his native
land as an agent in the cause of sedition and disloyalty. This truly
Grand Old Man, who, in his determination to uphold the dignity and
unity of the Empire "stood four-square to all the winds that blew,"
would scarcely have sided with the modern G.O.M. and his satellites,
Horsewhipped Healy and Breeches O'Brien.

One word as to the alleged "intolerance of the fanatic Orangemen of
Belfast."

The placards above-mentioned were up on Tuesday last. They are large
and boldly printed, and attracted crowds of readers--but not a hand
was raised to deface them, to damage them, to do them any injury
whatever. I watched them for four-and-twenty hours, and not a finger
was lifted against any one in the High Street or elsewhere, so far as
I could ascertain.

There are twenty thousand Orangemen in the city, and the Protestants
outnumber the Papists by three to one. Yet the placard was treated
with absolute respect, and although I entered several groups of
readers I heard no words of criticism--no comment, unfavourable or
otherwise, no gesture of dissent. The people seemed to be interested
in the bill, and desirous of giving it respectful consideration. I
have seen Liberal Birmingham, when in the days of old it assembled
round Tory posters--but the subject becomes delicate; better change
our ground. It is, however, only fair to say that the Gladstonians of
Birmingham, who, as everybody knows, formed the extreme and inferior
wing of the old Radical party, can hardly teach the Belfast men
tolerance.

Ballymena, April 6th.

No. 6.--THE EXODUS OF INDUSTRY.

Derry is a charming town, unique, indescribable. Take equal parts of
Amsterdam and Antwerp, add the Rhine at Cologne, and Waterloo Bridge,
mix with the wall of Chester and the old guns of Peel Castle, throw in
a strong infusion of Wales, with about twenty Nottingham lace
factories, stir up well and allow to settle, and you will get the
general effect. The bit of history resulting in the raising of the
siege still influences Derry conduct and opinions. The 'Prentice Boys
of Derry, eight hundred strong, are ardent loyalists, and having once
beaten an army twenty-five thousand strong, believe that for the good
of the country, like the orator who had often "gone widout a male,"
they too could "do it again." They do not expect to be confronted with
the necessity, but both the Boys and the Orangemen of Derry, with all
their co-religionists, are deeply pledged to resist a Dublin
Parliament. "We would not take the initiative, but would merely stand
on our own defence, and offer a dogged resistance. We have a tolerable
store of arms, although this place was long a proclaimed district, and
we have fifteen modern cannon, two of which are six-pounders, the rest
mostly four-pounders, and one or two two-pounders, which are snugly
stored away, for fear of accident." Thus spake one who certainly
knows, and his words were amply confirmed from another quarter.

Derry makes shirts. The industrious Derryans make much money, and in
many ways. They catch big salmon in the middle of the town, and
outside it they have what Mr. Gladstone would call a "plethora" of
rivers. They ship unnumbered emigrants to the Far West, and carry the
produce of the surrounding agriculturists to Glasgow and Liverpool.
They also make collars and cuffs, but this is mere sport. Their real
vocation is the making of shirts, which they turn out by the million,
mostly of high quality. Numbers of great London houses have their
works at Derry. Welch, Margeston and Co. among others. The Derry
partner, Mr. Robert Greer, an Englishman forty years resident in the
town, favoured me with his views _re_ Home Rule, thus:--

"The bill would be ruinous to Ireland, but not to the same extent as
to England. Being an Englishman, I may be regarded as free from the
sectarian animosity which actuates the opposing parties, but I cannot
close my eyes to the results of the bill, results of which no sane
person, in a position to give an opinion, can have any doubt. We are
so convinced that the bill would render our business difficult, not to
say impracticable, that our London partners say they will remove the
works, plant, machinery, and all, to the West of Scotland or
elsewhere.

"About 1,200 girls are employed in the mill, and 3,000 to 4,000 women
at their own homes all over the surrounding country.

"Mr. Gladstone may think he knows best, but here the unanimous opinion
is that trade will be fatally injured. Ireland is no mean market for
English goods, and the market will be closed because Ireland will have
no money to spend. Go outside the manufacturing towns and what do you
see? Chronic poverty. Manufacturers will remove to the Continent, to
America--anywhere else--leaving the peasantry only. The prospective
taxes are alarming. We know what would be one of the very first acts
of a Dublin Parliament. They would curry favour with the poor, the
lazy districts, by an equalisation of the poor rate. In Derry, where
everybody works for his bread, the rate is about sixpence in the
pound. There are districts where it runs to ten shillings in the
pound. The wealthy traders, the capitalists, the manufacturers of the
North will have to pay for the loafers of the South. The big men would
gather up their goods and chattels and clear out. There are other
reasons for this course."

Here Mr. Greer made the inevitable statement that Englishmen out of
Ireland did not understand the question; and another large
manufacturer chipped in with:--

"Leave us alone, and we get on admirably. There is no intolerance;
everybody lives comfortably with his neighbour. But pass the bill and
what happens? The Catholic employés would become unmanageable, would
begin to kick over the traces, would want to dictate terms, would
attempt to dominate the Protestant section, which would rebel, and
trouble would ensue. They would not work together. It is impracticable
to say: Employ one faith only and Home Rule means that Catholicism is
to hold the sway. The Nationalist leaders foster this spirit,
otherwise there would be no Home Rule. The workpeople would act as
directed by the priest, even in matters connected with employment. You
have no idea what that means to us. It means ruin. The people do not
know their own mind, and their ignorance is amazing. My porter says
that when the bill becomes law, which will take place in one month
from date, he will have a situation in Dublin at a thousand a year,
and both he and others sincerely believe in such a changed state of
things for Catholics alone."

I went over Welch, Margetson's works, a wonderful place, where were
hundreds of women, clean and well-dressed, working at the various
departments of shirt-making. The highest class of mill hands I ever
saw, working in large and well-ventilated rooms, many getting a pound
a week. Another firm over the way employs one thousand five hundred
more. And according to the best authority, that of the owners, all
this is to leave the country when Ireland gets Home Rule.

A very intelligent Catholic farmer living a few miles out of Donegal
said, "Farmers look at the bill in the light of the land question.
We're not such fools as to believe in Gladstone or his bill for
anythin' else. Shure, Gladstone never invints anythin' at all, but
only waits till pressure is put on him. Shure, iverythin' has to be
dhragged out iv him, an' if he settles the land question, divil thank
him, 'tis because he knows he's bate out an' out, an' _has_ to do it,
whether he will or no. An' now he comes bowin' an' scrapin' an'
condiscindin' to relave us--whin we kicked it out o' his skin. Ah! the
divil sweep him an' his condiscinshun."

Ingratitude, thy name is Irish Tenant!

Misther O'Doherty proceeded to say that landlords were all right now,
under compulsion. But the tenantry demanded that they should be
released entirely from the landlords' yoke. He said that the
agriculturists were not in touch with the whole question of Home Rule,
nor would they consider any subject but that of the land. The
Nationalists had preached prairie value, and the people were tickled
by the idea of driving out landowners and Protestants. All the evicted
tenants, all the men who have no land, all the ne'er-do-weels would
expect to be satisfied. Ulster is tillage--the South is mostly
grazing. Ulster had been profitably cultivated by black Protestants,
and their land was coveted by the priests for their own people. My
friend admitted that, although born a Catholic, his religious opinions
were liberal. I asked him if the Protestant minority would be
comfortable under a Dublin Parliament. He shook his head
negatively--"Under equal laws they are friendly enough, but they do
not associate, they do not intermarry, they have little or nothing to
do with each other. They are like oil and wather in the same bottle,
ye can put them together but they won't mix. And the Protestant
minority has always been the best off, simply because they are hard
workers. A full-blooded Irishman is no worker. He likes to live from
hand to mouth, and that satisfies him. When he has enough to last him
a day through he drops work at once. The Protestants have Scotch
blood, and they go on working with the notion that they'll be better
off than their father, who was better off than their grandfather. And
that's the whole of it."

Mr. J. Gilbert Kennedy, of Donegal, holds similar views of Irish
indolence. He told me that although living in a congested district he
could not obtain men to dig in his gardens, except when thereto driven
by sheer necessity, and that having received a day's pay they would
not return to work so long as their money lasted. "They will put up
with semi-starvation, cold, and nakedness most patiently. Their
endurance is most commendable. They will bear anything, only--don't
ask them to work." Mrs. Kennedy said that with crowds of poor girls
around her, she was compelled to obtain kitchen maids and so forth
from Belfast. "They will not be servants, and when they afford casual
help, they do it as a great favour."

A Scotsman who employs five hundred men in the mechanical work said:
"I have been in Ireland fifteen years, and have gone on fairly
smoothly, but with a world of management. For the sake of peace I have
not five Protestants in the place; and I would have none if I could
help it. It is, however, necessary to have Protestant foremen.
Irishmen are not born mechanics. In Scotland and England men take to
the vice and the lathe like mother's milk, but here it is labour and
pain. Irishmen are not capable of steady, unremitting work. They want
a day on and a day off. They wish to be traders, cattle-drovers,
pig-jobbers, that they may wander from fair to fair. My men have
little to do beyond minding machines; otherwise I must have Scots or
English. Discharge a man and the most singular things occur. In a late
instance I had seven written requests from all sorts of quarters to
take the man back, although before discharge he had been duly warned.
The entire neighbourhood called on me--the man's father, wife, mother,
the priest, a Protestant lady, three whiskey-sellers, two
Presbyterians, the Church of Ireland parson, God knows who. This
lasted a fortnight, and then threatening letters set in; coffins,
skulls, and marrow-bones were chalked all over the place, with my
initials. Indeed you may say they are a wonderful people."

Mr. E.T. Herdman, J.P., of Sion Mills, Co. Tyrone, should know
something of the Irish people. The model village above-named belongs
to him. Travellers to Londonderry viâ the Great Northern will remember
how the great Herdman flax-spinning mills, with their clean,
prosperous, almost palatial appearance, relieve the melancholy aspect