deems it at least fairly presumable, that opinions which are the result of conscientious and painstaking inquiry are more likely to be correct than those which he formerly held (and which he observes many of his countrymen still hold) with little inquiry or none. This perhaps reasonable presumption has induced him to write the following pamphlet and submit it to the candour of the public.

IRISH GRIEVANCES

SHORTLY STATED.

THE dangerous but still the only working phase which our policy now ever assumes with regard to questions of first-rate importance, "that something must be done," appears to have been reached in reference to Ireland. Most slowly, most reluctantly, English public opinion has been brought to perceive that Ireland is far from being that prosperous improving country which it was so agreeable to think her. An heroic resistance was made before the pleasing hallucination was allowed to vanish. Even yet it has not vanished universally. With many persons, even yet, an object of paramount necessity is "not to attach too much importance to Fenianism and Irish disaffection," and it is suggested, by a process of reasoning not very clear,

that not facts but their recognition is likely to prove dangerous to the State. However, this language is now acknowledged to be held in obedience to the primary duty of not alarming the public mind--a heinous offence, apparently, when committed. Short of doing anything so wicked as alarming the public mind, most speakers and writers now admit that the state of matters in

Ireland is very grave indeed. It is no longer asserted, as it lately was--with amazing vehemence if the fact were so that "Fenianism has nothing in it." But, on the contrary, it is confessed that a more subtle, insidious, and far-reaching danger has seldom threatened the country. Public opinion, although of course not alarmed, is thoroughly excited. Mysterious and wearisome as Irish questions have long been voted to be, it is felt that they must resolutely be faced once more. An Irish session has begun in the House of Commons, and the habitual apathy of Englishmen to Ireland and her affairs is replaced by emotions of a very different character.

For indeed it has come to this: that we, the great exemplars and almost the inventors of civil and religious liberty, as we flattered ourselves, are reduced to holding an integral portion of our empire in subjection to our authority solely by means of

military force. We, who have preached constitutional government to every creature in season and out of season, are forced, to deprive six millions of our fellow-citizens of its privileges and safeguards. There are, doubtless, many among us who regard Irish disaffection simply as an intolerable and never-ending nuisance: but there are many likewise --and their number, it may be hoped, is growingwho regard it also as an intolerable disgrace. The question which many Englishmen now ask themselves is not only, Are we able, but, Ought we to be willing to hold Ireland solely by means of our superior strength? For, in spite of sneers to the contrary, England has a conscience whose dictates she will obey if you can only touch it: a slow process, no doubt, but one which has been successfully achieved more than once. Did we not go without sugar to our tea, rather than encourage slavery after we had become convinced of its wickedness; and did we not commercially ruin our West Indian possessions, besides keeping up a chronic risk of war with Spain and America, for the same object? The English conscience, with reference to Ireland, is dull because it is unenlightened; Irish grievances are not redressed, because they are not realized or even believed in. Differences of race and of religion, a calamitous succession of injuries given and

received, crimes which were our fault, and accidents which were no one's fault, have all contributed to make Englishmen ignorant of, and indifferent to, Ireland. It is true this rather explains than excuses their misconduct, but it is only fair to remember that ignorance rather than malice has been the cause of the long toleration of Ireland's wrongs. If, after recent revelations, England allows the old state of things to continue, she will not escape the reprobation of the civilized world.

Irish agitation has long been a by-word of reproach with large classes in this country, as something incurably perverse, factious, and unreasonable. Admitting for a moment that it has not seldom been all this, it is forgotten that antagonistic to it there has been, not an agitation, but a ceaseless action, a stedfast pressure of another kind, and from another source, which deserves even less complimentary epithets. While the fiery eloquence of O'Connell alarmed and disgusted Englishmen, who wanted only routine, peace, and good markets, a far more subtle, constant, and efficacious influence was at work to close their minds against every rational plea or grievance coming from Ireland. The Clergy of the Established Church, and the English proprietary of the country, by the very conditions of their existence, were, in a manner, compelled