worked itself clear of its more extravagant characteristics, an improvement has taken place in its character in other ways. We may still see a mob as ludicrous as that which shouted 'No OBBES!' when the late Sir William Molesworth contested Southwark; and as violent as that which in the recent general election brought down on Kidderminster the contempt and disgust of England. But, as a general rule, if there is more dullness, there is also more decorum. We cannot say, indeed, that bribery is abolished-far from it-with Bribery Committee' blue-books on our shelves, and some sixty petitions against returns now before the new Parliament. But our corruption (though possibly meaner) is certainly less gross and glaring than once prevailed; and, under the influence of a purified public opinion and strict legislation, is, we trust, gradually wearing away. These are the influences which must be relied on for its extirpation, an object earnestly desired by all our higher statesmen. But while multitudes of voters remain poor and ignorant, and while a seat in Parliament is sought less from a consciousness of the talents and knowledge needful to a senator than from a wish to garnish an acquired fortune with a little bit of ornamental dignity, and to lay the foundation of a successful career of tuft-hunting, we must expect to find the task difficult. We need scarcely add that only to widen the area of voters will not suffice to purify electioneering, as the examples of certain large metropolitan constituencies suffice to show. For, if the suffrage is enlarged without elevating those who share in it intellectually or morally, there is a great risk of merely varying the mode of corruption. Instead of abolishing bribery, may it not end in simply cheapening the bribe?

Having frankly exposed the faults of our ancestors in their electioneering, let us not be unjust to their memories. It is easy to fill pages with the details of their wild follies and extravagances; yet let us not forget that the personnel of those Parliaments of theirs, so strangely elected, was far superior to the personnel of our Parliaments, so much more respectably chosen. If they had their Old Sarums, they had their Pitts to sit for them. In genius, in knowledge, in patriotism, in statesmanship, we have no superiority over the men who crippled their estates for centuries that they might not be outshone by the Swigvilles, or bargained for a borough with a professed jobber against rival nabobs.

The truth appears to be, that of the excesses which we have delineated, many were rather proofs of the coarseness of the nation's manners than of the corruption of the nation's heart. The English people expected a periodical treat at the hands of

their gentry, it was an old feudal tradition,-and they got it. We may say of the old English people as Cicero did of the Romans: Publicam magnificentiam diligit; non amat profusas epulas, sordes et inhumanitatem multo minus; nec,' adds the orator, candidatis ista benignitas adimenda est, quæ liberalitatem magis significat quam largitionem.' In these words the old school of candidates would have defended themselves. The people, again, would have argued that, as they were willing to be governed by their natural leaders, if these chose to dispute the honour among themselves, the humbler classes had a right to some share of the enjoyment. Again, these excesses neutralized themselves. It was such an understood thing that every kind of extravagance should characterize an election, that a Parliament elected in the wild way was practically as good a Parliament as could have been elected in a tame one. Everybody suddenly sobered when, the excitement was over, and did not consider himself committed to all the ideas broached during the frenzy. Thus a stranger, who might have fancied that we were on the eve of a revolution, suddenly found the new House, for all useful purposes, as quiet a one as ever. The people looked/ to a general election as a kind of little revolution, and therefore never attempted a big one. Because once in six or seven years they had a chance of burning the under-sheriff's periwig, they never thought of cutting off the sheriff's head. Our safety was in the national character, the antiquity of the institution, and the kindly feeling and respect of class for class, which the old electioneering, with its rude and barbarous liberality, had a decided tendency to keep up.

ART. III.-History of the Irish Poor-Law in connexion with the condition of the People. By Sir George Nicholls, K.C.B. 1 vol. 8vo. London, 1856.

BEECOR

EFORE the Reformation there was in Ireland an antagonism of races, there was afterwards the additional and not less bitter antagonism of creeds. When England welcomed the Reformation there was no such religious movement in the sister island. Her people presented no available materials for the truth to work upon. But after the monarchy and power of England became completely and cordially Protestant, she thought of establishing a Protestant régime in Ireland. The English who, in the name of the sovereign, carried on the government

severe.

and held its places of strength were Protestants. Many others were induced to come and settle, the worship of the reformed faith was introduced, and there was the staff, but not the power or influence, of a religious Protestant institution. After a while the character of the Irish natives afforded to the Papacy means to make a convulsive effort to revenge itself on England, and the plunderings and massacres of 1641 were planned and perpetrated. The Puritans of Cromwell's army bore bitter recollections of the cruelties which had been practised towards their Protestant brethren, and their retaliation was When the country was subdued, many of Cromwell's officers and followers were repaid by the richest acres it contained, and thus the Cromwellian settlement began. After the Prince of Orange came to the rescue of England, the Irish espoused the cause of the dethroned James II. They fought for him and were beaten. Then came another subjugation of Ireland and the Williamite settlement. Penal laws of great severity were enacted, and produced the almost incurable disease under which the nation still labours. The Protestant proprietor looked upon his Roman Catholic tenantry as being beyond the pale of civilisation -as those whom the power of the State wisely and justly kept in a condition incapable of resistance or improvement. He was tempted to be as haughty and tyrannical as he was politically superior; to haughtiness succeeded narrow-mindedness, and disdain for the vulgar merit of education; by neglect of the mental the animal powers increased, and to ignorance was added licentiousness. Then the spirit of the feudal age returned without its chivalry; and as the landlords tyrannised, the tenants yielded, and bent with a treacherous servility before an authority they could not resist. It was by this state of things that an Irish squire of the now olden time was generated; proud without refinement, haughty without dignity, boastful without merit. It is plain that the character of the proprietor must have reacted on the peasant. Thus the intemperance, ignorance, and immorality of the owner were reflected from the occupier, with the additional odiousness of having passed through a somewhat coarser and fouler medium.

Another and necessary consequence of the penal code was to place Popery in almost incurable hostility to Protestantism. Every relaxation of it naturally increased and strengthened that hostility. What was at first the murmuring of a discontented and half-broken spirit broke out in distinct tones of resentment, and in louder and more determined demands for other and higher privileges. This stirred up the pride and old antipathies of the Protestants, who felt indignant that those long spurned as the

enemies

enemies of religion and liberty, and therefore outcasts from the common rights of citizenship, should dare to escape from the most humiliating recollections of their former condition. Of course the Romanists went through the same process, and became equally self-complacent and malignant. They thought upon their persecuted religion, and the years of political degradation through which they had passed; forgot the history of its intolerance and aggression; and gave themselves up to the prosecution of every plan which, by increasing the ascendancy of their church, might bring the present praise of being patriots, and the hope of a future but rich reward.

In the year 1793 they were given the elective franchise. That was the first insertion of the wedge, the establishment of a power capable of illimitable increase. At the time that the franchise was bestowed upon the Roman Catholics the spirit of revolution had passed over the Atlantic to Europe, and France had become its temple and its home. Strange to say, that which dethroned Popery in France was acceptable to Popery in Ireland. But the Revolution in France was an attack on established power, and established power was what the Romanists in Ireland were anxious to be avenged of. They accordingly sought the aid of the French Directory, and rushed again into rebellion. During its course their cruelties were often revolting, their zeal was always furious. Fanaticism, stimulated by revengeful emotions, wrought through the priesthood upon the ignorance and superstition of the people. The punishment of the rebels was severe, and for a time their strength was utterly broken. The entire Protestant feeling of England and Ireland was roused against them; and they found themselves beaten, with only the poor consolation of hating more strongly than ever their successful adversaries.

In 1800 the English Minister determined upon forcing on his favourite measure—the legislative union between Ireland and Great Britain. For some years there was comparative political peace in Ireland. But after a while it was thought by some that they owed it to their consistency and to their sincere attachment for what they considered religious liberty to revive the consideration of the Catholic claims. Accordingly petitions were got up, and meetings held. The landlords of Ireland still commanded the votes of their wretched tenantry; and the priests had hitherto put forth no extraordinary energies to command the services of the freeholders; but when their hopes of success became stronger, it was determined to call upon the people to choose between their church and their landlords, between their temporal and eternal interests.

How

How could it be possible that a poor untaught creature, who deified his priest, who invested him with all the dignity which the mystery of the Latin mass was calculated to inspire, who poured into his ear the secrets of his soul, and who saw him perform the most solemn and touching rites to the departing spirits of those he loved, how could he resist the threat of such a man when he told him that, if he did not vote according to his wish, the chapel-door should be closed against him, the curse of his God rest upon him, and that, living and dying, he should be unconsoled by any services of religion? The landlords did their best to preserve what they called their rights; they threatened, but their voice was lost in the thunders of the Church; they executed their threats, often cruelly, always unwisely-but it was only to make martyrs and heap additional odium on their own order.

Before the year 1798 secret associations existed to a large extent among the peasantry, the immediate object of which was agrarian outrage, and the chief cause of which was (as we believe) the rack-rent system. They were called by different names in different places-Defenders,' 'Hearts of Steel,' 'Starlight Boys, 'Moonlight Boys.' Immediately preceding the last rebellion those lesser conspiracies merged in the greater, and when it was put down they were not recalled into active operation. However, as years passed on, the condition of the Irish peasantry unfortunately continued to afford great opportunities for the revival of the same system of social disorganisation. Accordingly the Ribbon or Rockite confederation arose. Its professed objects were also at first agrarian, but to these it soon ceased to be confined, and an association was established which was as popish, as insurrectionary, and as bloodthirsty as any of former years.

Another cause which tended materially to stimulate Romanism and put her more decidedly in an attitude of offence was the increased spirituality of the Protestant Church of Ireland. The revival of religion in England through the instrumentality of Wesley, Whitfield, Newton, and others, was, after some time, extended to Ireland; and a few years produced a wonderful regeneration. The Establishment was fast losing its good fellows,' who would hunt foxes, shoot grouse, and drink whiskypunch with the priest, or any other man who would so indulge them. The clergy of Ireland awoke to their responsibilities; they commenced to preach the old doctrines of the New Testament and of the Reformation, while they urged on all men to deny ungodliness. This preaching took great effect, and much religious feeling was manifested. Bible societies, Tract societies, Sunday-school societies, Missionary societies, &c., were called