CHAPTER II.

THE IRISH QUESTION IN IRELAND.

Whilst attributing the long continued failure of English rule in Ireland

largely to a misunderstanding of the Irish mind, I have given

England--at least modern England--credit for good intentions towards us.

I now come to the case of the misunderstood, and shall from henceforth

be concerned with the immeasurably greater responsibility of the Irish

people themselves for their own welfare. The most characteristic, and by

far the most hopeful feature of the change in the Anglo-Irish situation

which took place in the last decade of the nineteenth century, and upon

the meaning of which I dwelt in the preceding chapter, is the growing

sense amongst us that the English misunderstanding of Ireland is of far

less importance, and perhaps less inexcusable, than our own

misunderstanding of ourselves.

When I first came into practical touch with the extraordinarily complex

problems of Irish life, nothing impressed me so much as the universal

belief among my countrymen that Providence had endowed them with

capacities of a high order, and their country with resources of

unbounded richness, but that both the capacities and the resources

remained undeveloped owing to the stupidity--or worse--of British rule.

It was asserted, and generally taken for granted, that the exiles of

Erin sprang to the front in every walk of life throughout the world, in

every country but their own--though I notice that in quite recent times

endeavours have been made to cool the emigration fever by painting the

fortunes of the Irish in America in the darkest colours. To suggest that

there was any use in trying at home to make the best of things as they

were was indicative of a leaning towards British rule; and to attempt to

give practical effect to such a heresy was to draw a red herring across

the path of true Nationalism.

It is not easy to account for the long continuance of this attitude of

the Irish mind towards Irish problems, which seems unworthy of the

native intelligence of the people. The truth probably is that while we

have not allowed our intellectual gifts to decay, they have been of

little use to us because we have neglected the second part of the old

Scholastic rule of life, and have failed to develop the moral qualities

in which we are deficient. Hence we have developed our critical

faculties, not, unhappily, along constructive lines. We have been

throughout alive to the muddling of our affairs by the English, and have

accurately gauged the incapacity of our governors to appreciate our

needs and possibilities. But we recognised their incapacity more readily

than our own deficiencies, and we estimated the failure of the English

far more justly than we apportioned the responsibility between our

rulers and ourselves. The sense of the duty and dignity of labour has

been lost in the contemplation of circumstances over which it was

assumed that we have no control.

It is a peculiarity of destructive criticism that, unlike charity, it

generally begins and ends abroad; and those who cultivate the gentle art

are seldom given to morbid introspection. Our prodigious ignorance about

ourselves has not been blissful. Mistaking self-assertion for

self-knowledge, we have presented the pathetic spectacle of a people

casting the blame for their shortcomings on another people, yet bearing

the consequences themselves. The national habit of living in the past

seems to give us a present without achievement, a future without hope.

The conclusion was long ago forced upon me that whatever may have been

true of the past, the chief responsibility for the remoulding of our

national life rests now with ourselves, and that in the last analysis

the problem of Irish ineffectiveness at home is in the main a problem of

character--and of Irish character.

I am quite aware that such a diagnosis of our mind disease--from which

Ireland is, in my belief, slowly but surely recovering--will not pass

unchallenged, but I would ask any reader who dissents from this view to

take a glance at the picture of our national life as it might unfold

itself to an unprejudiced but sympathetic outsider who came to Ireland

not on a political tour but with a sincere desire to get at the truth of

the Irish Question, and to inquire into the conditions about which all

the controversy continues to rage.

This hypothetical traveller would discover that our resources are but

half developed, and yet hundreds of thousands of our workers have gone,

and are still going, to produce wealth where it is less urgently needed.

The remnant of the race who still cling to the old country are not only

numerically weak, but in many other ways they show the physical and

moral effects of the drain which emigration has made on the youth,

strength, and energy of the community. Our four and a quarter millions

of people, mainly agricultural, have, speaking generally, a very low

standard of comfort, which they like to attribute to some five or six

millions sterling paid as agricultural rent, and three millions of

alleged over-taxation. They face the situation bravely--and,

incidentally, swell the over-taxation--with the help of the thirteen or

fourteen millions worth of alcoholic stimulants which they annually

consume. The still larger consumption in Great Britain may seem to lend

at least a respectability to this apparent over-indulgence, but it looks

odd. The people are endowed with intellectual capacities of a high

order. They have literary gifts and an artistic sense. Yet, with a few

brilliant exceptions, they contribute nothing to invention and create

nothing in literature or in art. One would say that there must be

something wrong with the education of the country; and most people

declare that it is too literary, though the Census returns show that

there are still large numbers who escape the tyranny of books. The

people have an extraordinary belief in political remedies for economic

ills; and their political leaders, who are not as a rule themselves

actively engaged in business life, tell the people, pointing to ruined

mills and unused water power, that the country once had diversified

industries, and that if they were allowed to apply their panacea,

Ireland would quickly rebuild her industrial life. If our hypothetical

traveller were to ask whether there are no other leaders in the country

besides the eloquent gentlemen who proclaim her helplessness, he would

be told that among the professional classes, the landlords, and the

captains of industry, are to be found as competent popular advisers as

are possessed by any other country of similar economic standing. But

these men take only a dilettante part in politics, and no value is set

on industrial, commercial or professional success in the choice of

public men. Can it be that to the Irish mind politics are, what Bulwer

Lytton declared love to be, "the business of the idle, and the idleness

of the busy"?

These, though only a few of the strange ironies of Irish life, are so

paradoxical and so anomalous that they are not unnaturally attributed to

the intrusion of an alien and unfriendly power; and this furnishes the

reason why everything which goes wrong is used to nourish the

anti-English sentiment. At the same time they give emphasis to the

growing doubt as to the wisdom of those to whom the Irish Question

presents itself only as a single and simple issue--namely, whether the

laws which are to put all these things right shall be made at St.

Stephen's by the collective wisdom of the United Kingdom, aided by the

voice of Ireland--which is adequately represented--or whether these laws

shall be made by Irishmen alone in a Parliament in College Green.

It is obviously necessary that, in presenting a comprehensive scheme for

dealing with the conditions I have roughly indicated. I should make some

reference to the attitude towards Home Rule of both the Nationalists and

the Unionists who have joined in work which, whatever be its

irregularity from the standpoint of party discipline as enforced in

Ireland, has succeeded in some degree in directing the energies of our

countrymen to the development of the resources of our country. Many of

my fellow-workers were Nationalists who, while stoutly adhering to the

prime necessity for constitutional changes, took the broad view, which

was unpopular among the Irish Party, that much could be done, even under

present conditions, to build up our national life on its social,

intellectual, and economic sides. The well-known constitutional changes

which were advocated in the political party to which they belonged would

then, they believed, be more effectively demanded by Ireland, and more

readily conceded by England. Unionists who worked with me were similarly

affected by the changing mental outlook of the country. They, too, had

to break loose from the traditions of an Irish party, for they felt that

the exclusively political opposition to Home Rule was not less

demoralising than the exclusively political pursuit of Home Rule. Just

as the Nationalists who joined the movement believed that all progress

must make for self-government, so my Unionist fellow-workers believed

it would ultimately strengthen the Union. Each view was thoroughly sound

from the standpoint of those who held it, and could be regarded with

respect by those who did not. We were all convinced that the way to

achieve what is best for Ireland was to develop what is best in

Irishmen. And it was the conviction that this can be done by Irishmen in

Ireland that brought together those whose thought and work supplies

whatever there may be of interest in this book.

If I have fairly stated the attitude towards each other of the workers

to whose coming together must be attributed as much of the change in the

Irish situation as is due to Irish initiation, it will be seen that what

had so long kept them apart in public affairs, outside politics, was a

difference of opinion, not so much as to the conditions to be dealt

with, nor, indeed, as to the end to be sought, but rather as to the

means most effective for the attainment of that end. I naturally regard

the view which I am putting forward as being broader than that which has

hitherto prevailed. Some Nationalists may, however, contend that it is

essential to progress that the thoughts and energies of the nation

should be focussed upon a single movement, and not dissipated in the

pursuit of a multiplicity of ideals. I quite admit the importance of

concentration. But I strongly hold that any movement which is closely

related to the main currents of the people's life and subservient to

their urgent economic necessities, and which gives free play to the

intellectual qualities, while strengthening the moral or industrial

character, cannot be held to conflict with any national programme of

work, without raising a strong presumption that there is something wrong

with the programme. The exclusively political remedy I shall discuss in

the next chapter, but here I propose to consider some of the problems

which the new movement seeks to solve without waiting for the political

millenium.

It is a commonplace that there are two Irelands, differing in race, in

creed, in political aspiration, and in what I regard as a more potent

factor than all the others put together--economic interest and

industrial pursuit. In the mutual misunderstanding of these two

Irelands, still more than in the misunderstanding of Ireland by England,

is to be found the chief cause of the still unsettled state of the Irish

Question. I shall not seek to apportion the blame between the two

sections of the population; but as the mists clear away and we can begin

to construct a united and contented Ireland, it is not only legitimate,

but helpful in the extreme, to assign to the two sections of our

wealth-producers their respective parts in repairing the fortunes of

their country. In such a discussion of future developments chief

prominence must necessarily be given to the problems affecting the life

of the majority of the people, who depend directly on the land, and

conduct the industry which produces by far the greater portion of the

wealth of the country. It is, of course, essential to the prosperity of

the whole community that the North should pursue and further develop

its own industrial and commercial life. That section of the community

has also, no doubt, economic and educational problems to face, but these

are much the same problems as those of industrial communities in other

parts of the United Kingdom[4]; and if they do not receive, vitally

important as is their solution to the welfare of Ireland, any large

share of attention in this book, it is because they are no part of what

is ordinarily understood by the Irish Question.

Nevertheless, the interest of the manufacturing population of Ulster in

the welfare of the Roman Catholic agricultural majority is not merely

that of an onlooker, nor even that of the other parts of the United

Kingdom, but something more. It is obvious that the internal trade of

the country depends mainly upon the demand of the rural population for

the output of the manufacturing towns, and that this demand must depend

on the volume of agricultural production. I think the importance of

developing the home market has not been sufficiently appreciated, even

by Belfast. The best contribution the Ulster Protestant population can

make to the solution of this question is to do what they can to bring

about cordial co-operation between the two great sections of the

wealth-producers of Ireland. They should, I would suggest, learn to take

a broader and more patriotic view of the problems of the Roman Catholic

and agricultural majority, upon the true nature of which I hope to be

able to throw some new light. My purpose will be doubly served if I

have, to some extent, brought home to the minds of my Northern friends

that there is in Ireland an unsettled question in which they are largely

concerned, a rightly unsatisfied people by helping whom they can best

help themselves.

The Irish Question is, then, in that aspect which must be to Irishmen of

paramount importance, the problem of a national existence, chiefly an

agricultural existence, in Ireland. To outside observers it is the

question of rural life, a question which is assuming a social and

economic importance and interest of the most intense character, not only

for Ireland North and South, but for almost the whole civilised world.

It is becoming increasingly difficult in many parts of the world to keep

the people on the land, owing to the enormously improved industrial

opportunities and enhanced social and intellectual advantages of urban

life. The problem can be better examined in Ireland than elsewhere, for

with us it can, to a large extent, be isolated, since we have little

highly developed town life. Our rural exodus takes our people, for the

most part, not into Irish or even into British towns, but into those of

the United States. What is migration in other countries is emigration

with us, and the mind of the country, brooding over the dreary

statistics of this perennial drain, naturally and longingly turns to

schemes for the rehabilitation of rural life--the only life it knows.

We cannot exercise much direct influence upon the desire to emigrate

beyond spreading knowledge as to the real conditions of life in America,

for which home life in Ireland is often ignorantly bartered.[5] We

cannot isolate the phenomenon of emigration and find a cure for it apart

from the rest of the Irish Question. We must recognise that emigration

is but the chief symptom of a low national vitality, and that the first

result of our efforts to stay the tide may increase the outflow. We

cannot fit the people to stay without fitting them to go. Before we can

keep the people at home we have got to construct a national life with,

in the first place, a secure basis of physical comfort and decency. This

life must have a character, a dignity, an outlook of its own. A

comfortable Boeotia will never develop into a real Hibernia Pacata. The

standard of living may in some ways be lower than the English standard:

in some ways it may be higher. But even if statesmanship and all the

forces of philanthropy and patriotism combined can construct a contented

rural Ireland for the people, it can only be maintained by the people.

It will have to accord with the national sentiment and be distinctively

Irish. It is this national aspiration, and the remarkable promise of the

movements making for its fruition, which give to the work of Irish

social and economic reform the fascination which those who do not know

the Ireland of to-day cannot understand. This work of reform must, of

course, be primarily economic, but economic remedies cannot be applied

to Irish ills without the spiritual aids which are required to move to

action the latent forces of Irish reason and emotion.

* * * * *

The task which we have to face is, then, a two-sided one, but its

economic and its purely practical aspects first demand consideration.

Many even of the agrarian aspects of the question have, so far, been

somewhat neglected in Ireland owing to a cause which is not far to seek.

It has often been asserted that the Irish Question is, at bottom, the

Land Question. There is a great deal of truth in this view, but almost

all those who hold it have fallen into the grave error of tacitly

identifying the land question with the tenure question--an error which

vitiates a great deal of current theorising about Ireland. It was,

indeed, inevitable that Irish agriculturists, with such an economic

history behind them as I have outlined in the previous chapter, should

have concentrated their attention during the latter half of the

nineteenth century upon obtaining a legislative cure for the ills

produced by legislation, to the comparative neglect of those equally

difficult, if less obvious economic questions, which have been brought

into special prominence by the agricultural depression of the last

quarter of a century. Now, however, that the Land Act of 1903 has been

passed and the solution of the tenure question is in sight, we in

Ireland are more free to direct our attention to what is at present the

most important aspect of the agrarian situation--the necessity for

determining the social and economic conditions essential to the

well-being of the peasant proprietary, which, though it is to be started

with as bright an outlook as the law can give, must stand or fall by its

own inherent merits or defects. Not only are we now free to give

adequate consideration to this question, but it is also imperative that

we should do so, for whilst I am hopeful that the Land Act will settle

the question of tenure, it will obviously not merely leave the other

problems of agricultural existence--problems some of which are not

unknown in other parts of the United Kingdom--still unsolved, but will

also increase the necessity for their solution, and will, moreover,

bring in its train complex difficulties of its own.

The main features of the depressing outlook of rural life in the United

Kingdom are well known. The land steadily passes from under the plough

and is given over to stock raising. As the kine increase the men decay.

In Ireland the rural exodus takes, as I have already said, the shape,

mainly, not of migration to Irish urban centres, but rather the uglier

form of an emigration which not only depletes our population but drains

it of the very elements which can least be spared.

The reason generally given for the widespread resort to the lotus-eating

occupation of opening and shutting gates, in preference to tilling the

soil, is that in the existing state of agricultural organisation, and

while urban life is ever drawing away labour from the fields, the

substitution of pasturage for tillage is the readiest way to meet the

ruinous competition of Eastern Europe, the Western Hemisphere, and

Australasia. Yet upon the economic merits of this process I have heard

the most diverse opinions stated with equal conviction by men thoroughly

well informed as to the conditions. One of the largest graziers in

Ireland recently gave me a picture of what he considered to be an ideal

economic state for the country. If two more Belfasts could be

established on the east coast, and the rest of the country divided into

five hundred acre farms, grazing being adopted wherever permanent grass

would grow, the limits of Irish productivity would be reached. On the

other hand, Dr. O'Donnell, the Roman Catholic Bishop of Raphoe, who may

be taken as an authoritative exponent of the trend of popular thought in

the country, not long ago advocated ploughing the grazing lands of

Leinster right up to the slopes of Tara.[6] Moreover, many theories have

been advanced to show that the decline of tillage, whatever be its

cause, involves an enormous waste of national resources. But of

practical suggestion, making for a remedy, there is very little

forthcoming.

The solution of all such problems largely depends upon certain

developments which, for many reasons, I regard as absolutely essential

to the success of the new agrarian order. One of these developments is

the spread of agricultural co-operation through voluntary associations.

Without this agency of social and economic progress, small landholders

in Ireland will be but a body of isolated units, having all the

drawbacks of individualism, and none of its virtues, unorganised and

singularly ill-equipped for that great international struggle of our

time, which we know as agricultural competition. Moreover, there is

another equally important, if less obvious, consideration which renders

urgent the organisation of our rural communities. From Russia, with its

half-communistic Mir to France with its modern village commune, there is

no country in Europe except the United Kingdom where the peasant

land-holders have not some form of corporate existence. In Ireland the

transition from landlordism to a peasant proprietary not only does not

create any corporate existence among the occupying peasantry but rather

deprives them of the slight social coherence which they formerly

possessed as tenants of the same landlord. The estate office has its

uses as well as its disadvantages, and the landlord or agent is by no

means without his value as a business adviser to those from whom he

collects the rent.

The organisation of the peasantry by an extension of voluntary

associations, which is a condition precedent of social and economic

progress, will not, however, suffice to enable them to face and solve

the problems with which they are confronted, and whose solution has now

become a matter of very serious concern to the British taxpayer. The

condition of our agrarian life clearly indicates the necessity for

supplementing voluntary effort with a sound system of State aid to

agriculture and industry--a necessity fully recognised by the

governments of every progressive continental country and of our own

colonies. An altogether hopeful beginning of combined self-help and

State assistance has been already made. Those who have been studying

these problems, and practically preparing the way for the proper care of

a peasant proprietary, have overcome the chief obstacles which lay in

their path. They have gained popular acceptance for the principle that

State aid should not be resorted to until organised voluntary effort has

first been set in motion, and that any departure from this principle

would be an unwarrantable interference with the business of the people,

a fatal blow to private enterprise.[7]

The task before the people, and before the State, of placing the new

agrarian order upon a permanent basis of decency and comfort is no light

one. Indeed, I doubt whether Parliament realises one-tenth of the

problems which the latest land legislation--by far the best we have yet

had--leaves unsolved. This becomes only too clear the moment we consider

seriously the fundamental question of the relation of population to area

in rural Ireland, or, in other words, when we inquire how many people

the agricultural land will support under existing circumstances, or

under any attainable improvement of the conditions in our rural life.

Roughly speaking, the surface area of the island is 20,000,000 acres, of

which 5,000,000 are described in the official returns as 'barren

mountain, bog and waste.' This leaves us with some 15,000,000 acres

available for agriculture and grazing, which area is now divided into

some 500,000 holdings. Thus we have an average of thirty acres in extent

for the Irish agricultural holding. But, unhappily, the returns show

that some 200,000 of these holdings are from one to fifteen acres in

extent. Nor do the mere figures show the case at its worst. For it

happens that the small holdings in Ireland, unlike those on the

Continent, are generally on the poorest land, and the majority of them

cannot come within any of the definitions of an 'economic holding.'

These 200,000 holdings, the homes of nearly a million persons, threaten

to prove the greatest danger to the future of agricultural Ireland. As

the majority of them, as at present constituted, do not provide the

physical basis of a decent standard of living, the question arises, how

are they to be improved? Putting aside emigration, which at one period

was necessary and ought to have been aided and controlled by the State,

but which is now no longer a statesman's remedy, there is obviously no

solution except by the migration of a portion of the occupiers, and the

utilisation of the vacated holdings in order to enable the peasants who

remain to prosper--much as a forest is thinned to promote the growth of

trees. In typical congested districts this operation will have to be

carried out on a much larger scale than is generally realised, for a

considerable majority of families will have to be removed, in order to

allow a sufficient margin for the provision of adequate holdings for

those who remain. In some cases, there are large grazing tracts in close

proximity to the congested area which might be utilised for the

re-settlement, but where this is not so and the occupiers of the vacated

holdings have to migrate a considerable distance, the problem becomes

far more difficult. I need not dwell upon the administrative

difficulties of the operation, which are not light. I may assume, also,

that there will be no difficulty in obtaining suitable land somewhere. I

do not myself attach much weight to the unwillingness of the people to

leave their old holdings for better ones, or to the alleged objection of

the clergy to allow their parishioners to go to another parish. More

serious is the possible opposition of those who live in the vicinity of

the unoccupied land about to be distributed, and who feel that they have

the first claim upon the State in any scheme for its redistribution with

the help of public credit. Mr. Parnell promoted a company with the sole

object of practically demonstrating how this problem could be solved. A

large capital was raised, and a large estate purchased; but the company

did not effect the migration of a single family. Still these are minor

considerations compared with the larger one, to which I must briefly

refer.

Under the Land Act of 1903 much has been done to facilitate the transfer

of peasants to new farms, but it is obvious that land cannot be handed

over as a gift from the State to the families which migrate. They will

become debtors for the value of the land itself, less perhaps a small

sum which may be credited to them in respect of the tenant's interest in

the holdings they have abandoned. This deduction will, however, be lost

in the expenditure required upon houses, buildings, fences, and other

improvements which would have to be effected before the land could be

profitably occupied. Speaking generally they will have no money or

agricultural implements, and their live stock will in many cases be

mortgaged to the local shopkeeper who has always financed them. It will

be necessary for the future welfare of the country to give them land

which admits of cultivation upon the ordinary principles of modern

agriculture; but without working capital, and bringing with them neither

the skill nor the habits necessary for the successful conduct of their

industry under the new conditions, it will be no easy task to place them

in a position to discharge their obligations to the State. It is all

very easy to talk about the obvious necessity of giving more land to

cultivators who have not enough to live upon; and there is, no doubt, a

poetic justice in the Utopian agrarianism which dangles before the eyes

of the Connaught peasantry the alternative of Heaven or Leinster. But

when we come down to practical economics, and face the task of giving to

a certain number of human beings, in an extremely backward industrial

condition, the opportunity of placing themselves and their families on a

basis of permanent well-being, it will be evident that, so far, at any

rate, as this particular community is concerned, the mere provision of

an economic holding is after all but a part of an economic existence.

I have touched upon this question of migration from uneconomic to

economic holdings because it signally illustrates the importance of the

human, in contradistinction to the merely material considerations

involved in the solution of the many-sided Irish Question. I must now

return to the wider question of the relation of population to area in

rural Ireland, as it affects the general scheme of agricultural and

industrial development.

It is obvious that there must be a limit to the number of individuals

that the land can support. Allowing an average of five members for each

family, and allowing for a considerable number of landless labourers, it

seems that the land at present directly supports about 2,500,000

persons--a view which, I may add, is fully borne out by the figures of

the recent census; and it is hard to see how a population living by

agriculture can be much increased beyond this number. Even if all the

land in Ireland were available for re-distribution in equal shares, the

higher standard of comfort to which it is essential that the condition

of our people should be raised would forbid the existence of much more

than half a million peasant proprietors.[8] Hence the evergreen query,

'What shall we do with our boys?' remains to be answered; for while the

abolition of dual ownership will enable the present generation to bring

up their children according to a higher standard of living, the change

will not of itself provide a career for the children when they have been

brought up. The next generation will have to face this problem:--the

average farm can support only one of the children and his family, what

is to become of the others? The law forbids sub-division for two

generations, and after that, _ex hypothesi_, the then prevailing

conditions of life will also prevent such partition. A few of the next

generation may become agricultural labourers, but this involves

descending to the lowest standard of living of to-day, and in any case

the demand for agricultural labourers is not capable of much extension

in a country of small peasant proprietors.

Against this view I know it is pointed out that in the earlier part of

the nineteenth century the agricultural population of Ireland was as

large as is the total population of to-day; but we know the sequel.

Instances are also cited of peasant proprietaries in foreign countries

which maintain a high standard of living upon small, sometimes

diminutive, and highly-rented holdings. We must remember, however, that

in these foreign countries State intervention has undoubtedly done much

to render possible a prosperous peasant proprietary by, for example, the

dissemination of useful information, admirable systems of technical

education in agriculture, cheap and expeditious transport, and even

State attention to the distribution of agricultural produce in distant

markets. Again, in many of these countries rural life is balanced by a

highly industrial town life, as, for instance, in the case of Belgium;

or is itself highly industrialised by the existence of rural industries,

as in the case of Switzerland; while in one notable instance--that of

Württemberg--both these conditions prevail.

The true lesson to be drawn from these foreign analogies is that not by

agriculture alone is Ireland to be saved. The solution of the rural

problem embraces many spheres of national activity. It involves, as I

have already said, the further development of manufactures in Irish

towns. One of the best ways to stimulate our industries is to develop

the home market by means of an increased agricultural production, and a

higher standard of comfort among the peasant producers. We shall thus

be, so to speak, operating on consumption as well as on production, and

so increasing the home demand for Irish manufactures. Perhaps more

urgent than the creation or extension of manufactures on a larger scale

is the development of industries subsidiary to agriculture in the

country. This is generally admitted, and most people have a fair

knowledge of the wide and varied range of peasant industries in all

European countries where a prosperous peasantry exists. Nor is there

much difficulty in agreeing upon the main conditions to be satisfied in

the selection of the industries to meet the requirements of our case.

The men and boys require employment in the winter months, or they will

not stay, and the rural industries promoted should, as far as possible,

be those which allow of intermittent attention. The female members of

the family must have profitable and congenial employment. The

handicrafts to be promoted must be those which will give scope to the

native genius and aesthetic sense. But unless we can thus supply the

demand of the peasant-industry market with products of merit or

distinctiveness, we shall fail in competition with the hereditary skill

and old established trade of peasant proprietors which have solved this

part of the problem generations ago. This involves the vigorous

application of a class of instruction of which something will be said

in the proper place.

So far the rural industry problem, and the direction in which its

solution is to be found, are fairly clear. But there is one disadvantage

with which we have to reckon, and which for many other reasons besides

the one I am now immediately concerned with, we must seek to remove. A

community does not naturally or easily produce for export that for which

it has itself no use, taste, or desire. Whatever latent capacity for

artistic handicrafts the Irish peasant may possess, it is very rarely

that one finds any spontaneous attempt to give outward expression to the

inward aesthetic sense. And this brings me to a strange aspect of Irish

life to which I have often wished, on the proper occasion, to draw

public attention. The matter arises now in the form of a peculiar

difficulty which lies in the path of those who endeavour to solve the

problem of rural life in Ireland, and which, in my belief, has

profoundly affected the fortunes of the race both at home and abroad.

To a sympathetic insight there is a singular and significant void in the

Irish conception of a home--I mean the lack of appreciation for the

comforts of a home, which might never have been apparent to me had it

not obtruded itself in the form of a hindrance to social and economic

progress.[9] In the Irish love of home, as in the larger national

aspirations, the ideal has but a meagre material basis, its appeal being

essentially to the social and intellectual instincts. It is not the

physical environment and comfort of an orderly home that enchain and

attract minds still dominated, more or less unconsciously, by the

associations and common interests of the primitive clan, but rather the

sense of human neighbourhood and kinship which the individual finds in

the community. Indeed the Irish peasant scarcely seems to have a home in

the sense in which an Englishman understands the word. If he love the

place of his habitation he does not endeavour to improve or to adorn it,

or indeed to make it in any sense a reflection of his own mind and

taste. He treats life as if he were a mere sojourner upon earth whose

true home is somewhere else, a fact often attributed to his intense

faith in the unseen, but which I regard as not merely due to this cause,

but also, and in a large measure, as the natural outcome of historical

conditions, to which I shall presently refer.

What the Irishman is really attached to in Ireland is not a home but a

social order. The pleasant amenities, the courtesies, the leisureliness,

the associations of religion, and the familiar faces of the neighbours,

whose ways and minds are like his and very unlike those of any other

people; these are the things to which he clings in Ireland and which he

remembers in exile. And the rawness and eagerness of America, the lust

of the eye and the pride of life that meet him, though with no welcoming

aspect, at every turn, the sense of being harshly appraised by new

standards of the nature of which he has but the dimmest conception, his

helplessness in the fierce current of industrial life in which he is

plunged, the climatic extremes of heat and cold, the early hours and few

holidays: all these experiences act as a rude shock upon the

ill-balanced refinement of the Irish immigrant. Not seldom, he or she

loses heart and hope and returns to Ireland mentally and physically a

wreck, a sad disillusionment to those who had been comforted in the

agony of the leave-taking by the assurance that to emigrate was to

succeed.

The peculiar Irish conception of a home has probably a good deal to do

with the history of the Irish in the United States. It is well known

that whatever measure of success the Irish emigrant has there achieved

is pre-eminently in the American city, and not where, according to all

the usual commonplaces about the Irish race, they ought to have

succeeded, in American rural life. There they were afforded, and there

they missed, the greatest opportunity which ever fell to the lot of a

people agriculturally inclined. During the days of the great emigrations

from Ireland, a veritable Promised Land, rich beyond the dreams of

agricultural avarice, was gradually opened up between the Alleghanies

and the Rocky Mountains, which the Irish had only to occupy in order to

possess. Making all allowances for the depressing influences which had

been brought to bear upon the spirit of enterprise, and for their

impoverished condition, I am convinced that a prime cause of the failure

of almost every effort to settle them upon the land was the fact that

the tenement house, with all its domestic abominations, provided the

social order which they brought with them from Ireland, and the lack of

which on the western prairie no immediate or prospective physical

comfort could make good.

Recently a daughter of a small farmer in County Galway with a family too

'long' for the means of subsistence available, was offered a comfortable

home on a farm owned by some better-off relatives, only thirty miles

away, though probably twenty miles beyond the limits of her utmost

peregrinations. She elected in preference to go to New York, and being

asked her reason by a friend of mine, replied in so many words, 'because

it is nearer.' She felt she would be less of a stranger in a New York

tenement house, among her relatives and friends who had already

emigrated, than in another part of County Galway. Educational science in

Ireland has always ignored the life history of the subject with which it

dealt. In no respect has this neglect been so unconsciously cruel as in

its failure to implant in the Irish mind that appreciation of the

material aspects of the home which the people so badly need both in

Ireland and in America If the Irishman abroad became 'a rootless

colonist of alien earth,' the lot of the Irishman in Ireland has been

not less melancholy. Sadness there is, indeed, in the story of 'the

sea-divided Gael,' but, to me, it is incomparably less pathetic than

their homelessness at home.

There are, as I have said, historic reasons for the Celtic view of home

to which my personal observation and experience has induced me to devote

so much space. The Irish people have never had the opportunity of

developing that strong and salutary individualism which, amongst other

things, imperiously demands, as a condition of its growth, a home that

shall be a man's castle as well as his abiding place. In this, as in so

much else, a healthy evolution was constantly thwarted by the clash of

two peoples and two civilisations. The Irish had hardly emerged from the

nomad pastoral stage, when the first of that series of invasions, which

had all the ferocity, without the finality of conquest, made settled

life impossible over the greater part of the island. An old chronicle

throws some vivid light upon the way in which the idea of home life

presented itself to the mind of the clan chiefs as late as the days of

the Tudors. "Con O'Neal," we are told, "was so right Irish that he

cursed all his posterity in case they either learnt English, sowed wheat

or built them houses; lest the first should breed conversation, the

second commerce, and with the last they should speed as the crow that

buildeth her nest to be beaten out by the hawk."[10] The penal laws,

again, acted as a disintegrant of the home and the family; and,

finally, the paralysing effect of the abuses of a system of land tenure,

under which evidences of thrift and comfort might at any time become

determining factors in the calculation of rent, completed a series of

causes which, in unison or isolation, were calculated to destroy at its

source the growth of a wholesome domesticity. These causes happily, no

longer exist, and powerful forces are arising to overcome the defects

and disadvantages which they have bequeathed to us; and I have little

doubt that it will be possible to deal successfully with this obstacle

which adds so peculiar a feature to the problem of rural life in

Ireland.

If I have dwelt at what may appear to be a disproportionate length upon

the Irishman's peculiar conception of a home, it is because this

difficulty, which Irish social and economic reformers still encounter,

and with which they must deal sympathetically if they are to succeed in

the work of national regeneration, strikingly illustrates the two-sided

character of the Irish Question and the never-to-be-forgotten

inter-dependence of the sentimental and the practical in Ireland. I

admit that this condition which adds to the interest of the problem, and

perhaps makes it more amenable to rapid solution, is an indication of a

weakness of moral fibre to which must be largely attributed our failure

to be master of our circumstances. Indeed, as I come into closer touch

with the efforts which are now being made to raise the material

condition of the people, the more convinced I become, much as my

practical training has made me resist the conviction, that the Irish

Question is, in its most difficult and most important aspects, the

problem of the Irish mind, and that the solution of this problem is to

be found in the strengthening of Irish character.

With this enunciation of the main proposition of my book, I may now

indicate the order in which I shall endeavour to establish its truth. I

have said enough to show that I do not ignore the historical causes of

our present state; but with so many facts with which we can deal

confronting us, I propose to review the chief living influences to which

the Irish mind and character are still subjected. These influences fall

naturally into three distinct categories and will be treated in the

three succeeding chapters. The first will show the effect upon the Irish

mind of its obsession by politics. The next will deal with the influence

of religious systems upon the secular life of the people. I shall then

show how education, which should not only have been the most potent of

all the three influences in bringing our national life into line with

the progress of the age, but should also have modified the operation of

the other two causes, has aggravated rather than cured the malady.

Whatever impression I may succeed in making upon others, I may here

state that, as the result of observation and reflection, the conclusion

has been forced upon me that the Irish mind is suffering from

considerable functional derangement, but not, so far as I can discern,

from any organic disease. This is the basis of my optimism. I shall

submit in another chapter, which will conclude the first, the critical

part of my book, certain new principles of treatment which are indicated

by the diagnosis; and I would ask the reader, before he rejects the

opinions which are there expressed, to persevere through the narrative

contained in the second part of the book. There he will find in process

of solution some of the problems which I have indicated, and the

principles for which a theoretical approval has been asked, in practical

operation, and already passing out of the experimental stage. The story

of the Self-help Movement will strike the note of Ireland's economic

hopes. The action of the Recess Committee will be explained, and the

concession of their demand by the establishment of a 'Department of

Agriculture and other rural industries and for Technical Instruction for

Ireland,' will be described. This will complete the story of a quiet,

unostentatious movement which will some day be seen to have made the

last decade of the nineteenth century a fit prelude to a future

commensurate with the potentialities of the Irish people.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] I speak from personal knowledge when I say that the leaders of Irish

industry and commerce are fully alive to the practical consideration

which they have now to devote to the new conditions by which they are

surrounded. They recognise that the intensified foreign competition

which harasses them is due chiefly to German education and American

enterprise. They are deep in the consideration of the form which

technical education should take to meet their peculiar needs; and I am

confident that Ulster will make a sound and useful contribution to the

solution of the commercial and industrial problems which confront the

manufacturers of the United Kingdom.

[5] That such a knowledge is still required, though the need is becoming

less urgent, is shown by an incident which illustrates the pathos of the

Irish exodus. A poor woman once asked me to help her son to emigrate to

America, and I agreed to pay his passage. Early in the negotiations,

finding that she was somewhat vague as to her boy's prospects, I asked

her whether he wanted to go to North or South America. This detail she

seemed to consider immaterial. "Ach, glory be to God, I lave that to yer

honner. Why wouldn't I?" Had I shipped him to Peru she would have been

quite satisfied. Why wouldn't she?

[6] Yet another view which seems to uproot most agrarian ideas in

Ireland has been put forward by Dr. O'Gara in _The Green Republic_

(Fisher Unwin, 1902). His main conclusion is that the present disastrous

state of our rural economy is due to our treating land as an object of

property and not of industry. He advocates the cultivation of the land

by syndicates holding farms of 20,000 acres and tilling them by the

lavish application of modern machinery as the only way to meet American

competition. His book is able and suggestive, but it is perhaps, a work

of supererogation to discuss a theory the whole moral of which is the

expediency of absolutely divorcing the functions of the proprietor and

the manager of land at a time when the consensus of opinion in Ireland

is in favour of uniting them, and in view of the fact that under the new

Land Act the future of the country seems inevitably to lie for a long

time in the hands of a peasant proprietary.

[7] The reader may wonder why I touch so lightly upon a fact of such

profound significance as the Irishman's acceptance of self-help as a

condition precedent of State aid in the development of agriculture and

industry. But such a cursory treatment, in the early chapters, of this

and of other equally important aspects of the Irish situation is

necessitated by the plan I have adopted. I am attempting to give in the

first part of the book a philosophic insight into the chief Irish

problems, and then, in the second part of the book, to present the facts

which appear to me to illustrate these problems in process of solution.

[8] The best expert agricultural opinion tells me that under present

conditions a family cannot live in any decent standard of comfort--such

as I hope to see prevail in Ireland--on less than 30 acres of Irish

land, taking the bad land with the good.

[9] It is, of course, unnecessary for me to dwell upon the part played

by the home in the standard of living, especially amongst a rural

community. But it may not be irrelevant to note that M. Desmolins, who,

in his remarkable book, _A quoi tient la superiorité des Anglo-saxons_?

hands over the future of civilisation to the Anglo-Saxons, ascribes to

the English rural home much of the success of the race.

[10] Speed's Chronicle, quoted in _Calendar of State Papers, Ireland,_

1611-14, p. xix.

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