All this was undoubtedly true; and it is not our intention to

admire what was called the Union, nor to advocate it. Those of

the various writers cited, who spoke so dogmatically in the

above passages, had in their minds only material and external

prosperity, and that even of only one class of citizens. Those

who wish well to Ireland cannot be satisfied with this.

Not a single name of the favorers or opposers of the Union, here

quoted as witnesses, is Celtic. It would be interesting to know

what the Celts of the island, that is, the greater part of its

inhabitants, thought at the time, not of the Union, but of their

own Parliament, and how much of this great material prosperity

fell to their portion.

Surely they were all opposed to a Union which for a variety of

reasons had grown odious in their sight; but, did they, could

they, approve of the acts of their Legislature prior to the

Union with England? Were they satisfied with those tokens of

prosperity in favor of a class which had systematically

oppressed them? Even granting that they were Christian enough

not to feel envy at the success of their Protestant fellow-

countrymen, did they not, and were they not right to, rue the

day which, by an act of that same Legislature, shut them off as

a body from all those advantages.

For it must be remembered that it was at the instigation of many

of those volunteers who had been so ready to receive the muskets

from their Catholic neighbors, for the purpose of striking a

blow for liberty, that none of the penal statutes were repealed,

and the Irish Catholics continued to groan, at least as far as

the law went, under the fearful oppressions of which the last

chapter furnished a feeble sketch. Hence, to speak in their

presence of their commerce, of their manufactures, of their

agriculture, of the increase of their wealth, and so on, was a

bitter mockery, which they could not but resent in their inmost

soul.

Was the cause of all their miseries removed by such a free and

independent Parliament? Where could be the agricultural

prosperity of a people which was not entitled, legally, to own

an inch of their soil, or lease more than two acres of it? How

could they engage in prosperous trade when, at the suit of a

"discoverer," they were liable to be compelled to hand over to

him the surplus of a paltry income? How could they even

contemplate engaging in any manufactures, when the laws reduced

them to the frightful state of pauperism which we have

shudderingly glanced at? And those laws were preserved, and

retained on the statute-book, by the very men who vaunted of the

prosperity of Ireland!

It cannot, then, be too strongly reasserted that the social

position of Ireland had experienced no change whatever, and that

the separation of classes, spoken of with such well-merited

rebuke by Edmund Burke, still stood unaltered:

"They divided the nation into two distinct parties, without

common interest, sympathy, or connection. One of these bodies

was to possess all the franchises, all the property, all the

education; the other was to be composed of drawers of water and

cutters of turf for them.

Every measure was pleasing and popular just in proportion as it

tended to harass and ruin a set of people who were looked upon

as enemies to God and man; and, indeed, as a race of bigoted

savages, who were a disgrace to human nature itself.

"To render humanity fit to be insulted, it was fit that it

should be degraded."

And, even supposing the prosperity of which so much talk was

made to have been universal, so that all had a real share in it,

how long would it have remained so, if the Irish Parliament had

continued to exist, and not become merged in the English, or, as

it was termed, Imperial Legislature? How long could the two

separated bodies, sitting, the one in Dublin, the other in

Westminster, have acted in concert, without breaking out into

violent and mutual recrimination, with all its attendant evils?

The difficulty showed itself at the very outset, and when the

first question of the relative status of both Legislatures arose.

Mr. Fox, the great Liberal minister of the king, endeavored to

solve this difficulty by making a distinction between internal

and external legislation: Ireland was never to be interfered

with in her Parliament, with respect to her internal questions,

while the English legislative body possessed the right to step

in in all measures regarding external legislation. This seems

very much like what is now proposed by home-rule.

Here is the answer given to this in the tribune of Dublin by Mr.

Walsh: "With respect to the fine-spun distinction of the English

minister between the internal and external legislation, it seems

to me the most absurd position, and at the same time the most

ridiculous one, that possibly could be laid down, when applied

to an independent people.

"Ireland is independent, or she is not; if she is independent,

no power on earth can make laws to bind her, internally or

externally, but the King, Lords, and Commons of Ireland."

Mr. Walsh, a very influential member of the Irish House of

Commons, saw, as doubtless did many others, cause of disturbance

already for the mutual tranquillity of the two nations. And,

indeed, his fears soon showed themselves only too well grounded.

Dr. Madden tells the story;

"A month had scarcely elapsed since the opening of the new Irish

Parliament in 1782, before Lord Abingdon, in the British House

of Peers, moved for leave to bring in a declaratory bill, to

reassert the right of England to legislate externally for

Ireland, in matters appertaining to the commerce of the latter.

A similar motion was made in the British House of Commons by Sir

George Young.

"One clause of Lord Abingdon's bill stated that Queen Elizabeth,

having formerly forbade the King of France to build more ships

than he then had, without her leave first obtained, it is

enacted that no kingdoms, as above stated, Ireland as well as

others, should presume to build a navy or any ships-of-war,

without leave from the Lord High Admiral of England."

It is easy to foresee the pretty quarrel preparing. Once again,

then, it may be asserted that the record of Irish Parliaments is

a sad one.

But could more have been expected of it? Is the scope of

measures, within the capabilities of any legislative assembly of

modern times, comprehensive enough to embrace every thing of

importance to a Catholic people, such as the Irish nation has

ever been?

The general question of parliamentary rule is a very complicated

one. The modern Parliament is a very different thing from the

old assemblies of the representatives of various orders in any

state. With the Church originated those ancient institutions,

which in certain parts of Europe partook at once of the twofold

nature of councils and political assemblies.

This order has passed away, and no one thinks to-day of reviving

those time-honored institutions, however much political writers

may be inclined to favor despotism on the one hand, or anarchy

on the other. What, then, is the origin of the modern

Parliament? It grew into being in England during the seventeenth

and eighteenth centuries, emanating as it were, slowly, out of

the decomposition of the old Parliaments; the aristocracy, and

the Church chiefly, losing more and more the influence once

belonging to them, which, in old times, made them paramount in

those state deliberations. This is one of the chief features of

the newly-modelled British Constitution, which is of very recent

growth, and became fixed and settled only after the downfall of

the Stuart dynasty, receiving additional modifications in the

contest of parties under the Brunswick and Hanover lines of

kings.

It is, consequently, an altogether British growth of recent date,

particularly well adapted for England, whose prosperity since

its establishment has ever been on the increase. But it is very

doubtful whether other countries have derived equal benefit from

its adoption.

Toward the end of last century, some few Frenchmen of note

attempted, with Mounier at their head, to reproduce a feeble

copy of it in France. Their failure is too well known to the

world: how their English ideas were scouted by the people, while

a far more radical revolution swept away every vestige of the

old French Constitution, without substituting in its stead any

thing save crude and infidel ideas, which resulted in anarchy.

The lamentable failure of the first attempt was no

discouragement to other political theorists; and the century has

witnessed and still witnesses every day essays at English

legislation, as embodied in the constitution of its Parliaments

chiefly, all over Europe; and all, as sanguine writers would

have us believe, to serve as the stepping-stone for the

"Universal Republic," which is to regenerate the world.

The great questions in all those assemblies are of material

interests, material prosperity, material projects. Of the moral

well-being of the people seldom or never a word is heard; and,

whenever a moral question does come up for discussion, the

vagueness of the theories advanced and discussed, the indecision

of the measures proposed, the want of unity in the views

developed, show how unfit are modern legislators for even

touching on what concerns the soul of man. The legislators

themselves feel that their character is far from being a sacred

one, and that the spiritual element is not comprehended in their

world. And they are certainly right.

Even the measures of external policy are not universally

successful in securing the material well-being of the people. In

France, at least, the various legislatures which have succeeded

one another have perhaps been productive of as much harm in that

regard as the liberty of the press and freedom of public

discussion, which have always had and always will have their

ardent advocates, and the existence of which is compatible with

public order in some countries, but not in others.

The same, with certain reservations, is true of the Spanish-

American republics, Brazil, and now of Spain, Italy, and other

European nations. The legislative machine which is found to work

so well in England, and what were or still are her colonies,

seems to get out of order in climates and among nations

unaccustomed to it, even as far as material prosperity is

concerned.

But it is neither our object to write a history of Parliaments,

nor absolutely to condemn those modern institutions by the few

words devoted to them. All we wish to insist upon is, that all

the evils of nations are not cured by them, and that they should

not be taken as in themselves absolutely desirable and all-

sufficient.

As to their probable fate in the future, their modern dress is

not yet two centuries old, and the seeds of decay already appear

in many places. A few questions are sufficient to demonstrate

this: Can a Parliament, as understood to-day, last for any

length of time and work successfully, when composed for a great

part of corrupt legislators who have been returned by corrupt

electors? Has not the progress of corruption on both sides,

elected and electors, been of late alarmingly on the increase?

What space of time is requisite for legislation to come to a

stand-still, and prove to modern nations the impossibility of

carrying on even material affairs with such corrupt machinery?

It requires no great foresight to reply to these questions.

And yet it is on this tottering institution that the Ireland of

our days has set her hope. She imagines that, this once gained,

prosperity and happiness are insure; that, without it, she

cannot but be discontented, as she is and must be if she

possesses any feeling. And such is the anomaly of her position

that, with this conviction firmly set before us, we believe she

is right in demanding home-rule, and that by insisting upon it

she will eventually attain it; yet are we convinced that, having

obtained it, her evils will not be cured, nor her happiness

served. We prize her highly enough to think her worthy of

something better, which "something" we are sure God keeps in

reserve for her.

Suppose her earnest wish granted, and a home Parliament given

her. Suppose even the old question of her relations with the

English Legislature determined. A great difficulty has been

settled satisfactorily, though it is difficult to see how this

may come about. But supposing the questions for her discussion

and free-determination being clearly defined, home-rule becomes

possible without exciting the opposition of the rival Parliament

of Great Britain.

What is likely to be the composition of her state institution?

and what the programme of its labors?

In the composition of her two Houses, if she have two, the

Catholics will not be excluded as they were in 1782; a great

change certainly, and fraught no doubt with great benefit to the

country. But will the English element cease to predominate? The

native race has been kept so long in a state of bondage that few

members of it certainly will take a leading part in the

discussions. How many even will be allowed to influence the

election of members by their votes or their capacity? Universal

suffrage can scarcely be anticipated, perhaps even it would not

be desirable. The question is certainly a doubtful one. Of one

thing are we certain regarding the composition of an Irish

Parliament: it would not really represent the nation.

For the nation is Catholic to the core; the sufferings of more

than two centuries have made religion dearer to her than life;

all she has been, all she is to-day, may be summed up in one

word--Catholic. Nothing has been left her but this proud and

noble title, which of all others her enemies would have wrested

from her. The nation exists to-day, independently of

parliamentary enactments, in spite of the numberless

parliamentary decrees of former times; she is living, active,

working, and doing wonders, which shall come under notice. See

how busy she has been since first allowed to do. Her altars, her

religious houses, her asylums, every thing holy that was in

ruins--all have been restored.

Not satisfied with working so energetically on her own soil, she

has crossed over to England, where the great and unexpected

Catholic revival, which has struck such awe and fear into the

hearts of sectarians, is in great measure due to her.

Cross the broad Atlantic, and even the vast Southern Ocean, and

the contemplation of Irish activity in North America, Australia,

and all the English colonies, the intense vitality displayed by

this so long down-trodden people is amazing. But all this

activity, all this vitality, is employed in establishing on a

firm and indestructible basis everywhere the holy Catholic

Church.

Looking on all this, say then whether Ireland is truly Catholic,

whether the nation is any thing but Catholic.

But can her new Parliament be Catholic?

No! No one imagines such a thing possible; no one thinks, no one

dreams of it. It is clear, then, that it cannot represent the

nation.

Who will go to compose it? Men who will discard-such is the

modern expression-discard their creed, and leave it at the door.

Nothing better can be expected. It is true that the bitter

feeling engendered for so long a time by religious questions is

not likely to show itself again; or though, to speak more

correctly, a religious question never was raised in Ireland, the

whole people being one on that subject; but it may be hoped that

the bitter persecution against every thing Catholic is not

likely to recur, whatever may be the composing elements of the

new Houses of Parliament.

In the impossibility of even guessing at the probable opinions

of the men who are to have the future fate of Ireland in their

hands, it may be fairly predicted that, within their legislative

halls, religious and consequently moral questions will only be

approached in the spirit of liberalism. Probably, the only thing

attempted will be the rendering of the people externally happy

and prosperous, supposing the majority of the members animated

by true patriotic principles; and indeed the aspirations of all

who wish well to Ireland are limited to external or material

prosperity; and, for our own part, we do not consider this of

slight moment. But is this all that the Irish people require?

They have been brought so low in the scale of humanity that

every thing has to be accomplished to bring about their

resurrection; and the "every thing" is comprised in substituting

flesh-meat for potatoes and good warm clothing for rags. Whoever

says that the Irish people can be contented with such a

restoration as this, knows little of their noble nature, and has

never read their heart.

Assuredly, they have a right to those worldly blessings of which

they have been so long deprived; and we would not be understood

as saying that one of the primary objects of good government is

not to confer those material blessings on the people; nay, it is

our belief that, when a whole nation has been so long subjected

to all the evils which not only render this life miserable, but

absolutely intolerable, it is incumbent on those intrusted with

the direction of affairs to remedy those evils instantly, and

endeavor to make the people forget their misfortunes by, at

least, the enjoyments of this life's ordinary comforts.

Forgetfulness of the past can be obtained by no other means. And

this is a very simple, but, at the same time, very satisfactory

answer to the question so often put and so often replied to in

such a variety of ways, "Why is Ireland discontented?"

But, while admitting the truth, nay, the necessity of all this,

the government of a Catholic people has not fulfilled its whole

duty when it has exerted itself to the utmost to procure, and

finally succeeded in procuring, the temporal happiness of the

nation. In addition to this, it must consult its moral and

religious wants, or a great part of its duty remains neglected.

This, indeed, does not nowadays occur to the minds of the

majority of men, who have, it would appear, agreed among

themselves to consider it an axiom of government that the rulers

of a people should have no other object in view than the

material comfort and welfare of the masses. They do not reflect

that the wants of a nation must be satisfied in their entirety,

and that its moral and religious needs are of no less importance,

to say the least, than the temporal. This is evident in all

those countries where, in imitation of England, or at her

instigation, parliamentary governments are now in operation--

countries which include not only Europe, without excepting

Greece and her chief islands, but Southern Africa at the Cape,

America, North and South, Australia, and the, large islands of

Jamaica, Tasmania, New Zealand, and several groups of Polynesia,

preparing Asia for the boon which, probably, is destined to show

itself in Japan first, spreading thence all over the largest

continent of the world.

Wherever modern Parliaments flourish, there material interests

alone are consulted. This is a new feature of Japhetism; and God

alone knows how long nations will be satisfied with such a state

of things!

But if non-Catholic nations thus limit their aspirations, there

is all the more reason why a Catholic people cannot imitate them

in such a course, particularly if that people has for centuries

submitted to every evil of this life in order to preserve its

religion, showing that, in its eyes, religious blessings rank

far above all imaginable material advantages; and we all know

such to be the case for Ireland.

But, it may be asked, what are those religious wants which must

be satisfied, and how are we to know them? The answer, to a

Catholic, is plain, and nothing is easier of recognition. What

the spiritual guides of the nation consider of paramount

importance and of absolute necessity, is of that character, and

the government which neglects to listen to remonstrances coming

from such a quarter, shows thereby that it is ignorant of, or

slights, its plain duty. Ever since the load of tyranny, which

weighed down the Irish people, has been removed, if not entirely,

at least suffered a very appreciable reduction, since the

rulers of the Church in that unhappy country have been able to

lift up their voice, and proclaimed what they considered of

supreme importance to those under their charge, is it not a

strange truth that their voice has never ceased remonstrating,

and that, at this very moment, it is as loud in protestation as

ever? When has it been listened to as it should be? Is it likely

to meet more regard if Ireland obtains home-rule? It grieves us

to say that the only answer which can be given to this last

question is still an emphatic "No!"

And for the very simple reason, already given, that Ireland

cannot have a truly Catholic Parliament, and that all the great

measures which would occupy the attention of the Catholic

members, in the event of their meeting at Dublin, would be

shemes for the advancement of manufactures, trade, the

construction of ships, tenant-right laws, etc.; all very

excellent things in their way, and to which Ireland has an

undoubted right, which will be strongly contested, and in the

struggle for which she may again be worsted; which, even if she

obtains, will not enable her to compete with England, and which,

after and above all, do not correspond to the heart-beat of the

nation--the restoration complete and entire of the Catholic

Church all over her broad land.

It may be well to remark that the broad assertion just laid down

involves no reprisals against the rights of the minority. That

minority, backed by the English Government, has enjoyed nearly

three centuries of oppression and tyranny, has taxed human

ingenuity to the utmost for the purpose of concocting schemes of

destruction against the majority: it has failed. The majority,

which at last breathes freely, can well afford not to raise a

finger in retaliation, and to leave what is called freedom of

conscience to those who so long refused it. The result may be

left to the operation of natural laws and the holy workings of

Providence. But their religious rights ought, at east, to be

secured to them entire; the rights of their Church to be left

forever perfectly free and untrammelled.

But, how much has been done against this, even of late? Why has

a Protestant university so many privileges, while a similar

Catholic institution is refused recognition? To answer what

purpose have the Queen's Colleges been established? The Catholic

bishops certainly possess rights with regard to the education of

their flocks; with what persistence have not those rights been

either attacked or circumvented! If the Protestant Establishment

has been finally abolished, have not its ministers obtained by

the very act of abolition concessions which give them still

great weight, morally and materially, in the scale opposed to

Catholic proselytism, nay, preservation? Is it not a stain even

yet, if not in the eye of the law, at least in that of the

English colonized in Ireland, to be a "Roman Catholic?" Is

"souperism" so completely dead that it never can revive? How

many means are still left in the hands of the Protestant

minority to vex, annoy, and impoverish the supposed free

majority?

Whoever considers the matter seriously cannot but acknowledge

that in Ireland there exists still a vast amount of open or

silent opposition to the Church of the majority, and a Church

which the majority loves with such deep affection that, so long

as the least remnant of the old oppression remains, so long must

Ireland remain discontented.

And it is more than doubtful whether home-rule would be a

sufficient remedy for such a state of things, owing to the fact,

already insisted upon, that the new Parliament could not be a

Catholic Parliament.

The reader may easily perceive what was meant by saying that the

entire restoration of the Catholic Church in the island does not

suppose the consequent extirpation of heresy; but it clearly

supposes the perfectly free exercise of all her rights by the

Church. Nothing short of this can satisfy the Irish people.

III. We pass on to the consideration of a third delusive hope,

that of the people regaining all their rights by the

overwhelming force of numbers and armed resistance to tyranny--

the advocacy of physical force, as it is called; in other words,

the right and necessity of open insurrection, or underhand and

secret associations, evidently requiring for success the

cooperation of the numerous revolutionary societies of Europe: a

criminal delusion, which has brought many evils upon the country,

and which is still cherished by too many of her sons. Though we

purpose speaking freely on this subject, we hope that our

language may be that of moderation and justice.

To a Catholic, who has either witnessed or heard of the

frightful evils brought on modern nations by the doctrine of the

right of insurrection, of armed force, of open rebellion,

against real or fancied wrong, that doctrine cannot but be

loathsome and detestable.

True, there is for nations, as for individuals, something

resembling the right of self-defence. No Catholic theologian can

assert that a people is bound to bow under the yoke of tyranny,

when it can shake that tyranny off; and it is this truth which

affords a pretext to many advocates of what is called the right

of insurrection. Moreover, there is no doubt that, in the case

of Ireland particularly, the Irish had for many centuries a

legitimate government of their own, and when attacked by

foreigners, who landed on their shores under whatever pretext,

they had a perfect right, nay, it was the duty of the heads of

clans, the provincial kings and princes, to protect the whole

nation, and the part of it intrusted to their special care in

particular, against open or covert foes. The name of "rebels"

was given them by the invaders, with no shadow of possible

pretext, and the name was as justly resented as it was unjustly

applied.

Under the Stuart dynasty the state of the case is still more

clear: for then they were fighting on the side of the English

sovereigns to whom they had submitted; and, in waging war

against the enemies of their king and country, they were not

only enforcing their right, but performing a highly-meritorious

and in some cases heroic duty. Yet the name of "rebels" was

again applied to them, and its penalty inflicted upon them, as

has been seen.

After their complete subjugation, the right of retaliating on

their oppressors, even if justifiable in theory, was often

illusory and indefensible in fact, because of the impossibility

of successful resistance; and the secret associations known

under the names of "Tories," "Rapparees," "White Boys,"

"Ribbonmen," were, with the exception of the first, condemned by

the Church.

But in modern times the right of insurrection cannot possibly be

defended, if, as can scarcely be avoided, the cause of a

Catholic nation is linked with the various revolutionary

societies and conspiracies which disgrace modern Europe,

endanger society, and have all been condemned by the sovereign

Pontiff.

An extensive discussion of both cases--the stubborn resistance

made after the fall of the Stuarts, and some of the attempts at

independence of later times--would show at once the difference

between the two cases, and prevent thinking men from ranking the

"Tories" of ancient times with the avowed revolutionists of our

days. Mr. Prendergast has given a fair sketch of the former in

the second edition of his "Cromwellian Settlement."

The reader who may peruse this very interesting account can

notice a remarkable coincidence; one, however, which to our

knowledge has not yet been pointed out: the very scenes enacted

in Ireland, during the long resistance offered to oppression

after the downfall of the Stuart dynasty, were reenacted in

France during the Reign of Terror, and for some time after,

throughout the districts which had risen in insurrection against

the tyranny of the Convention, and both cases were certainly

examples of right warring against might.

In fact, to a person acquainted with the history of the violent

changes which, during the last century, modern theories,

metaphysical systems, and, above all, the working of secret

societies, have caused, the reading of the history of England

and Ireland, from the Reformation down, offers new sources of

interest, by showing how the last frightful convulsion in France

was merely a copy of the first in England, at least as far as

the means employed in each go, if not in the ultimate object.

In England the revolution was begun by the monarch himself, with

a view of rendering his power more absolute and universal by the

rejection of the papal supremacy, and, consequently, the

destruction of the Catholic Church. In France the revolution was

begun by the leaders of the middle classes, who made use of the

immense power given them by the secret societies which then

flourished, and the influence of an unbridled press, to destroy

royalty and aristocracy, that they might themselves obtain the

supreme power and rule the country. The object of the two

revolutions was therefore widely different; but the means

employed in bringing them about, when considered in detail, are

found to have been perfectly identical.

In both countries, on the side of the revolutionary party or of

the National Assembly, various oaths were imposed and enforced,

troops dispatched, battles fought, devastating bands ravaged the

country while in a state of insurrection, the same barbarous

orders in La Vendee as in Ireland, so that the language even

employed in the second case is an exact counterpart of that in

the first. There is destruction resolved upon; then the

authorities desisting and resolving on a change of policy,

though with a rigid continuance of the police measures,

including in both cases "domiciliary visits," inquests by

commissioners, courts-martial in the first case, revolutionary

tribunals in the second--consequent wholesale executions on both

sides. There were the decrees of confiscation carried out with

the utmost barbarity, resulting in sudden changes of fortune,

the class that was aristocratic being often reduced to beggary,

while its wealth was enjoyed by the new men of the middle

classes. The peasants derive very little benefit from the

revolution in France--none whatever, or rather the very reverse

of benefit, in Ireland. And, to go into the minutest details,

there are the same informers, spies, troops of armed police, or

adventurers on the hunt to discover, prosecute, and destroy the

last remnants of the insurgents in France as well as in Ireland.

In considering the religious side of the question, the parallel

would be found still more striking, as the proscribed ministers

of religion were of the same faith in France as in the British

Isles, while the means adopted for their destruction were

exactly similar.

On the side of the insurgents the same comparison holds good. In

both cases there is the first refusal to obey unjust decrees,

the same stubborn opposition to more stringent acts of

legislature, the emigration of the aristocratic classes, the

devotedness of the clergy, with here and there an unfortunate

exception, the same mode of concealment resorted to--false doors,

traps, secret closets, disguise, etc.; the flying to the

country and concealment in woods, caves, hills, or mountains;

and, when the burden grows intolerable, and open resistance,

even without hope of success, becomes inevitable, there are the

same resources, method of organization, attack, call to arms,

call to Heaven, the same heroism: yes, and the same approval of

religion and admiration of all noble hearts throughout the world.

The only difference consists in the fact that in France the

struggle lasted a few years only; in Ireland, centuries. In

France the fury of the revolution soon spent itself in horrors;

in Ireland the sternness of the persecuting power stood grim and

unrelaxing for ages, adding decree to decree, army to army. In

France, numerous hunters of priests and of "brigands," as they

were called, flourished only for a short decade of years; in

Ireland similar hunters of priests and of "Tories" carried on

their infamous trade for more than a century.

In the case of the latter country, too, the confiscation was

much more thorough and permanent, the emigration complete and

final; but, in both cases, the Catholic religion outlived the

storm, and lifted up her head more gloriously than ever as soon

as its fury had abated.

Finally, to come to the point, which calls now more immediately

for attention, if the campaigns of Owen Roe O'Neill, of

Brunswick, and Sarsfield, were the models of the great

insurrection of La Vendee and Brittany, the bands of "Tories"

and "rebels," scattered through Ireland at the time of the

Cromwellian settlement, gave an example for the "Chouan" raids

which in France followed the blasted hopes of the royalists.

How ought both cases to be considered with reference to the

general rules of morality? How were they considered at the time

by religious and conscientious men?

There is no doubt that excesses were committed by Tories in

Ireland, and Chouans in France, which every Christian must

condemn; but there can also be little doubt that such of them as

were not deranged by passion, but allowed their inborn religious

feelings to speak even in those dreadful times, were restrained,

either by their own consciences or by the advice of the men of

God whom they consulted, from committing many crimes which would

otherwise have resulted from their unfortunate position. All

this, however, resolves itself into a consideration of

individual cases which cannot here be taken into account.

Our only question is the cause of both Tories and Chouans in the

abstract. From the beginning it was clearly a desperate cause,

and, admitting that the motive which prompted it was generous,

honorable, and praiseworthy, nothing could be expected to ensue

from its advocacy but accumulated disaster and greater

misfortunes still. Of either case, then, abstractly considered,

religion cannot speak with favor.

But, when an impartial and fair-minded man takes into

consideration all the circumstances of both cases, particularly

of that presented in Ireland, as given by Mr. Prendergast, with

all the glaring injustice, atrocious proceedings, and barbarous

cruelty of the opposing party taken into account, who will dare

say that men, driven to madness by such an accumulation of

misery and torture, were really accountable before God for all

the consequences resulting from their wretched position?

In the words quoted by the author of the "Cromwellian Settlement:"

"Had they not a right to live on their own soil? were they

obliged in conscience to go to a foreign country, with the

indelible mark left on them by an atrocious and originally

illegitimate government?" And, if the simple act of remaining in

their country, to which they had undoubtedly a right, forced

them to live as outlaws, and adopt a course of predatory warfare,

otherwise unjustifiable, but in their circumstances the only

one possible for them, to whom could the fault be ascribed? Are

they to be judged harshly as criminals and felons, worthy only

of the miserable end to which all of them, sooner or later, were

doomed? Is all the reproach and abuse to be lavished on them,

and not a breath of it to fall on those who made them what they

were? Who of us could say whether, if placed in the same position,

he would not have considered the life they led, and the inevitable

death they faced, as the only path of duty and honor?

We are thoroughly convinced that the first Irish "Tories" deemed

it their right to make themselves the avengers of Ireland's

wrongs, and consider themselves as true patriots and the heroic

defenders of their country, and that many honorable and

conscientious men then living agreed with them. And the people,

who always sided with and aided them, had after all certainly a

right to their opinion as the only true representatives of the

country left in those unfortunate times.

Thus far we have considered the right of resistance on the part

of the old "Tories;" we now come to what has been called the

second case--the right of insurrection advocated by modern

revolutionists, chiefly when connected with the unlawful

organizations so widely spread to-day. This, indeed, is the

great delusive hope of to-day, which must be gone into more

thoroughly, in order to show that Ireland, instead of

encouraging among her children the slightest attachment to the

modern revolutionary spirit, ought to insist on their all, if

faithful to the noble principles of their forefathers, opposing

it, as indeed the great mass of the nation has opposed it,

strenuously, though it has met with the almost constant support

of England, who has spread it broadcast to suit her own purposes.

Ireland's hope must come from another quarter.

Let us look clearly at the origin and nature of this

revolutionary spirit, so different from the lawful right of

resistance always advocated by the great Catholic theologians.

The nature of this spirit is to produce violent changes in

government and society by violent means; and it originated in

first weakening and then destroying the power of the Popes over

Christendom. Two words only need be said on both these

interesting topics--words which, we hope, may be clear and

convincing.

The very word revolutionary indicates violence; and it is so

understood by all who use it with a knowledge of its meaning. A

revolutionary proceeding in a state, is one which is sanctioned

neither by the law nor the constitution, but is rapidly carried

on for any purpose whatever. Violence has always been used in

the various revolutions of modern times, and, when people talk

of a peaceful revolution, it is at once understood that the term

is not used in its ordinary significance.

On this point, probably, all are agreed; and, therefore, there

is no need of further explanation. On the other hand, many will

be inclined to controvert the second proposition; and, therefore,

its unquestionable truth must be shown.

That the position held by the Popes at the head of Christendom

for many ages was of paramount influence, and that to them, in

fact, is due the existence of the state of Europe, known as

Christendom, is now admitted almost by all since the

investigations of learned and painstaking historians,

Protestants as well Catholics, have been given to the world. But

had the Popes any particular line of policy, and did they favor

one kind of government more than another? This is a very fair

question, and well worthy of consideration.

Any kind of government is good only according to the

circumstances of the nation subjected to it. What may suit one

people would not give happiness to another, and democratic,

aristocratic, or monarchical governments, have each their

respective uses, so that none of them can be condemned or

approved absolutely. No one will ever be able to show that the

Roman Pontiffs held any exclusive theory on this subject, and

adopted a stern policy from which they did not recede.

But a positive line of policy they did hold to, namely, the

insuring the stability of society by securing the stability of

governments.

Whoever reads the life of Gregory VII side by side with that of

William the Conqueror, is at first astonished to find Hildebrand,

who, though not yet Pope, was already powerful in the counsels

of the Papacy, favoring the Norman king, although William

eventually proved far from grateful. But, when the reader comes

to inquire what can have moved the great monk to take up this

line of action, he will find that a deep political motive lay at

the bottom of it, which throws a flood of light over the policy

of the Popes and the history of Europe during the middle ages.

He finds Hildebrand persuaded that William of Normandy possessed

the true hereditary right to the crown of England, and the

policy of the Popes was already in favor of hereditary right in

kingdoms, thereby to insure the stability of dynasties, and

consequently that of society itself.

Harold, son of Godwin, belonged in no way to the royal race of

Anglo-Saxon kings. The Dukes of Normandy had contracted

alliances by marriage with the Anglo-Saxon monarchs, and were

thought to be more nearly related to Edward the Confessor than

Harold, whose only title was derived from his sister.

What had been the state of Europe up to that time? Since the

establishment and conversion of the northern races, a constant

change of rulers, an ever-recurring moving of territorial limit,

and consequently an endless disturbance in all that secures the

stability of rights, was common everywhere: in England, under

the heptarchy; in France, under the Carlovingians; in the

various states of Germany; everywhere, except, perhaps, in a

part of Italy, where small republics were springing up from

municipal communes, which were better adapted to the wants of

the people.

The great evils of those times were owing to these perpetual

changes, which all came from the undefined rights of succession

to power, as left by Charlemagne; a striking proof that a

monarch may be a man of genius, a great and acceptable ruler,

and still fail to see the consequences to future times of the

legacy he leaves them in the incomplete institutions of his own

time. Well has Bossuet said, that "human wisdom is always short

of something."

Those rapid, and, to us, wonderful partitions of empires and

kingdoms; those loose and ill-defined rules of succession in

Germany, France, England, and elsewhere; productive of

revolution at the death of every sovereign, and often during

every reign, showed the Popes that hereditary rights ought to be

clear and fixed, and confined to one person in each nation. From

that period, date the long lines of the Capetians in France, the

Plantagenets in England; while rights of a similar kind are

introduced into Spain and Portugal; likewise into the various

states of Northern Germany, or Scandinavia; and Southern Italy,

or Norman Sicily--the rest of Italy and Germany are placed on a

different footing, the empire and the popedom being both

elective.

Such was the grand policy of the Popes inaugurated by Hildebrand,

which came out in all its strong features, at the same time,

under his powerful influence. Such was the policy which insured

the stability of Europe for upward of six hundred years; a set

of views to which a word only can be devoted here, but on which

volumes would not be thrown away.

In consequence of it, for six hundred years dynasties seldom

changed; the territorial limits of each great division of Europe

remained, on the whole, settled; and an order of society ensued,

of such a nature that any father of a family might rest assured

of the state of his children and grandchildren after him.

In this respect, therefore, as in many others, the papacy was

the key-stone of Christendom.

But as soon as Protestantism came to contest, not only the

temporal, but even the spiritual supremacy of the Popes; when,

taking advantage of the trouble of the Church, the so-called

Catholic sovereigns, while pretending to render all honor to the

spiritual supremacy of the sovereign Pontiffs, refused to

acknowledge in them any right of lifting their warning voice,

and calling on the powers of the world to obey the great and

unchangeable laws of religion and justice, then did the long-

established stability of Europe begin to give way, while the

whole continent entered upon its long era of revolution, which

is still in full way, and, as yet, is far from having produced

its last consequences.

England, the most guilty, was the first to feel the effect of

the shock. The Tudors flattered themselves that, by throwing

aside what they called the yoke of Rome, they had vastly

increased their power, and so they did for the moment, while the

dynasty that succeeds them sees rebellion triumphant, and the

head of a king fall beneath the axe of an executioner.

She is said to have benefited, nevertheless, by her great

revolution, and by the subsequent introduction of a new dynasty.

She has certainly chanted a loud paean of triumph, and at this

moment is still exultant over the effects of her modern policy,

from the momentary success of the new ideas she has disseminated

through the world, and above all from that immense spread of

parliamentary governments which have sprung into existence

everywhere under her guidance, and mainly through her agency.

And the cause of her triumph was that, after a few years of

commotion, she seemed to have obtained a kind of stability which

was a sufficiently good copy of the old order under the Popes,

and won for her apparently the gratitude of mankind; but that

stability is altogether illogical, and cannot long stand. There

is an old, though now trite, saying to the effect that when you

"sow the wind you must reap the whirlwind," and no one can fail

to see the speedy realization of the truth of this adage on her

part. Over the full tide of her prosperity there is a mighty,

irresistible, and inevitable storm visibly gathering. At last

she has come to nearly the same state of mental anarchy which

she has been so powerful to spread in Europe. After reading

"Lothair," the work of one of her great statesmen, all

intelligent readers must exclaim, "Babylon! how hast thou fallen!

" Within a few years, possibly, nothing will remain of her

former greatness but a few shreds, and men will witness another

of those awful examples of a mighty empire falling in the midst

of the highest seeming prosperity.

When a nation has no longer any fixed principle to go by, when

the minds of her leaders are at sea on all great religious and

moral questions, when the people openly deny the right of the

few to rule, when a fabric, raised altogether on aristocracy,

finds the substratum giving way, and democratic ideas seated

even upon the summit of the edifice, there must be, as is said,

"a rattling of old bones," and a shaking of the skeleton of what

was a body.

How long, then, will the mock stability established by the deep

wisdom of England's renowned statesmen have stood? A century or

two of dazzling material prosperity succeeded by long ages of

woe, such as the writer of the "Battle of Dorking," with all his

imagination, could not find power enough to describe; for no

Prussian, or any other foreign army, will bring that catastrophe

about, but the breath of popular fury.

But our purpose is not to utter prophecies--rather to rehearse

facts already accomplished.

England, then, was the first to feel the shock of the earthquake

which was to overthrow the old stability of Europe. It is known

how Germany has ever since been a scene of continual wars,

dynastic changes, and territorial confusion. What evils have not

the wars of the present century brought upon her! Yet, owing to

the phlegmatic disposition, one might call it the stolidity of

the majority of Germans, the disturbances have been so far

external, and the lower masses of society have scarcely been

agitated, except by the first rude explosion of Protestantism,

and the sudden patriotic enthusiasm of young plebeians, in 1814.

But mark the suddenness with which, in 1848, all the thrones of

Germany fell at once under the mere breath of what is called

"the people!" It is almost a trite thing to say that, where

religion no longer exists, there no longer is security or peace.

Impartial travellers, Americans chiefly, have observed of late

that, in certain parts of France, there is, in truth, very

little religious feeling; while in all Protestant Germany,

particularly in that belonging to Prussia, there is none at all.

How long, then, is the "new Germanic Empire," so loudly trumpeted

at Versailles, and afterward so gloriously celebrated at Berlin,

without the intervention of any religion whatever, likely to stand?

How long? Can it exist till the end of this century? He would be

a bold prophet who could confidently say, "Yes."

As to France, formerly the steadiest of all nations, so deeply

attached to her dynasty of eight hundred years, although some of

her kings were little worthy true affection; many of whose

citizens have been born in houses a thousand years old, from

families whose names went back to the darkness of heroic times;

which was once so retentive of her old memories, living in her

traditions, her former deeds of glory, even in the monuments

raised in honor of her kings, her great captains, her

illustrious citizens; which was chiefly devoted to her time-

honored religion, mindful that she was born on the day of the

baptism of Clovis; that she grew up during the Crusades; that a

virgin sent by Heaven saved her from the yoke of the stranger;

that, on attaining her full maturity, it was religion which

chiefly ennobled her; and that her greatest poets, orators,

literary men, respected and honored religion as the basis of the

state, and, by their immortal masterpieces, threw a halo around

Catholicism--France, which still retains in her external

appearance something of her old steadiness and immutability, so

that to the eye of a stranger, who sees her for the first time,

solidity is the word which comes naturally to his mind, as

expressive of every thing around him, has only the look of what

she was in her days of greatness, and on the surface of the

earth there is not to-day a more unsteady, shaky, insecure spot,

scarcely worthy of being chosen by a nomad Tartar as a place

wherein to pitch his tent for the night, and hurry off at the

first appearance of the rising sun on the morrow. Can the

shifting sands of Libya, the ever-shaking volcanic mountains of

equatorial America, the rapidly-forming coral islands of the

southern seas, give an idea of that fickleness, constant

agitation, and unceasing clamor for change, which have made

France a by-word in our days? Who of her children can be sure

that the house he is building for himself will ever be the

dwelling of his son; that the city he lives in to-day will

tomorrow acknowledge him as a member of its community? Who can

be certain that the constitution of the whole state may not

change in the night, and he wake the next day to find himself an

outlaw and a fugitive?

It is a lamentable fact that for the last hundred years a great

nation has been reduced to such a state of insecurity, that no

one dares to think of the future, though all have repudiated the

past, and thus every thing is reduced for them to the present

fleeting moment.

And what is likely to be the future destiny of a nation of forty

million souls, when their present state is such, and such the

uncertainty of their dearest interests? They are unwilling to

quit the soil; for they have lost all power of expansion by

sending colonies to foreign shores; it is difficult for them to

take a real interest in their own soil, for the great moving

spring of interest is broken up by the total want of security.

May God open their eyes to their former folly; for the folly was

all of their own making! They have allowed themselves to be thus

thoroughly imbued with this revolutionary spirit--the first

revolution they hailed with enthusiasm; when they saw it become

stained with frightful horrors, they paused a moment, and were

on the point of acknowledging their error; but scribblers and

sophists came to show them that it failed in being a glorious

and happy one only because it was not complete; another and then

another, and another yet, would finish the work and make them a

great nation. Thus have they become altogether a revolutionary

people; and they must abide by the consequences, unless they

come at last to change their mind.

But the worst has not been said. This terrible example, instead

of proving a warning to nations, has, on the contrary, drawn

nearly all of them into the same boiling vortex. England and

France have led the whole European world captive: people ask for

a government different to the one they have; revolution is the

consequence, and, with the entry of the revolutionary spirit,

good-by to all stability and security. Let Italy and Spain bear

witness if this is not so.

And the great phenomenon of the age is the collecting of all

those revolutionary particles into one compact mass, arranged

and preordained by some master-spirits of evil, who would be

leaders not of a state or nation only, but of a universal

republic embracing first Europe, and then the world. So we hear

to-day of the Internationalists receiving in their "congresses"

deputies not only from all the great European centres, not only

from both ends of America, which is now Europeanized, but from

South Africa, from Australia, New Zealand, from countries which

a few years back were still in quiet possession of a

comparatively few aborigines.

To come back, then, to the point from which we started, it is in

this revolutionary spirit, in those conspiracies for revolutions

to come, that some Irishmen set their hopes for the regeneration

of their country. It would be well to remind them of the sayings

of our Lord: "Can men gather grapes from thorns?" "By their

fruits ye shall know them."

Let the Irish who are truly devoted to their country reflect

well on the kind of men they would have as allies. What has

Ireland in common with these men? If they know Ireland at all,

they detest her because of her Catholicism; and, if Ireland

knows them, she cannot but distrust and abominate them.

It has seemed a decree of kind Providence that all attempts at

rebellion on her part undertaken with the hope of such help,

have so far not only been miserable failures, but most

disgracefully miscarried and been spent in air, leaving only

ridicule and contempt for the originators of and partakers in

the plots.

If the vast and unholy scheme which is certainly being organized,

and which is spreading its fatal branches in all directions,

should ever succeed, it could not but result in the most

frightful despotism ever contemplated by men. Ireland in such an

event would be the infinitesimal part of a chaotic system worthy

of Antichrist for head.

But we are confident that such a scheme cannot succeed and come

to be realized, unless indeed it enter for a short period into

the designs of an avenging God, who has promised not to destroy

mankind again by another flood, but assured us by St. Peter that

he will purify it by fire.

As a mere design of man, intended for the regeneration of

humanity and the new creation of an abnormal order of things, it

cannot possibly succeed, because it is opposed to the nature of

men, among whom as a whole there can be no perfect unity of

external government and internal organization, owing to the

infinite variety of which we spoke at the beginning, which is as

strong in human beings as elsewhere. No other body than the

Catholic Church can hope to adapt itself to all human races, and

govern by the same rules all the children of Adam. The decree

issued of old from the mouth of God is final, and will last as

long as the earth itself. It is contained in Moses' Canticle:

"When the Most High divided the nations, when he separated the

sons of Adam, he appointed the bounds of each people, according

to the number of the children of Israel," or, as the Hebrew text

has it, "He fixed the limits of each people." On this passage

Aben Ezra remarks that interpreters understand the text as

alluding to the dispersion of nations (Genesis xi.). Those

interpreters, were clearly right, although only Jewish rabbies.

When God deprived man of the unity of language, he took away at

the same time the possibility of unity of institutions and

government; and it will be as hard for men to defeat that design

of Providence as for Julian the apostate to rebuild the Temple

of Jerusalem, of which our Saviour had declared that there

should not remain "a stone upon a stone."

But, though the monstrous scheme cannot ultimately succeed, it

can and will produce untold evils to human society. By alluring

workmen and other people of the lower class, it draws into the

intricate folds of conspiracy, dark projects, and universal

disorder, an immense array of human beings, whom the

revolutionary spirit had not yet, or at least had scarcely,

touched; it undermines and disturbs society in its lowest depths

and widest-spread foundations, since the lower class always has

been and still is the most numerous, including by far the great

majority of men. It consequently renders the stability of order

more difficult, if not absolutely impossible; it opens up a new

era of revolutions, more disastrous than any yet known; for, as

has already been remarked, and it should be well borne in mind,

in order that the whole extent of the evil in prospect may be

seen, so far, all the agitations in Europe, all the convulsions

which have rendered our age so unlike any previous one, and

productive of so many calamities, private as well as public,

have been almost exclusively confined to the middle classes, and

should be considered only as a reaction of the simple

bourgeoisie against the aristocratic class. Those agitations and

convulsions are only the necessary consequence of the secular

opposition, existing from the ninth and tenth centuries and

those immediately following, between the strictly feudal

nobility, which arrogated to itself all prerogatives and rights,

and the more numerous class of burghers, set on the lower step

of the social ladder. These latter wanted, not so much to get up

to the level of their superiors, as to bring them down to their

own, and even precipitate them into the abyss of nothingness

below. They have almost succeeded; and the prestige of noble

blood has passed away, perhaps forever, in spite of Vico's well-

known theory. But the now triumphant burgher in his turn sees

the dim mass, lost in the darkness and indistinctness of the

lowest pool of humanity, rising up grim and horrible out of the

abyss, hungry and fierce and not to be pacified, to threaten the

new-modelled aristocracy of money with a worse fate than that it

inflicted upon the old nobility.

And, to render the prospect more appalling, the chief means,

which so eminently aided the bourgeoisie to take their position,

namely, the wide-spread influence of secret societies, whose

workings even lately have astonished the world by the facile and

apparently inexplicable revolutions effected in a few days, are

now in the full possession of the lower classes, who, no longer

rude and unintelligent, but possessed of leaders of experience

and knowledge, can also powerfully work those mighty engines of

destruction.

In the presence of those past, present, and coming revolutions,

the face of heaven entirely clouded, the presence of God

absolutely ignored, his rights over mankind denied, the designs

of his Providence openly derided, and man, pretending to decide

his own destiny by his own unaided efforts, scornfully rejecting

any obligation to a superior power, not looking on high for

assistance, but taking only for his guide his pretended wisdom,

his unbounded pride, and his raging passions; such is now our

world.

Is Ireland to launch herself on that surging sea of wild impulse,

in whose depths lies destruction and whose waves never kiss a

peaceful coast? When she claimed and exercised a policy of her

own, she wisely persisted in not mixing herself up with the

troubles of Europe, content to enjoy happiness in her own way,

on her ocean-bound island, she thanked God that no portion of

her little territory touched any part of the Continent of Europe,

stretching out vainly toward her shores. So she stood when,

under God, she was mistress of her own destiny. If ever she

thought of Europe, it was only to send her missionaries to its

help, or to receive foreign youth in her large schools which

were open to all, where wisdom was imparted without restriction

and without price. But to follow the lead of European theorists

and vendors of so-called wisdom and science; to originate new

schemes of pretended knowledge, or place herself in the wake of

bold adventurers on the sea of modern inventions, she was ever

steadfast in her refusal.

And now that her autonomy is almost once again within her grasp,

now that she can carve out a destiny of her own, would she hand

over the guidance of herself to men who know nothing of her, who

have only heard of her through the reports of her enemies, and

who will scarcely look at her if she is foolish enough to ask to

be admitted within their ranks?

Every one who wishes well to Ireland ought to thank God that so

far few indeed, if any, of her children have ever joined in the

plots and conspiracies of modern times, and that in this last

scheme just referred to, not one of them, probably, has fully

engaged himself. In the late horrors of the Paris Commune, no

Irish name could be shown to have been implicated, and, when the

contrary was asserted, a simple denial was sufficient to set the

question at rest. Let them so continue to refrain from sullying

their national honor by following the lead of men with whom they

have nothing in common.

After all, the great thing which the Irish desire is, with the

entire possession of their rights, to enjoy that peace and

security in their own island, which they relish so keenly when

they find it on foreign shores. But no peace or security is

possible with the attempt to subvert all human society by wild

and impracticable theories, in which human and divine laws are

alike set at naught. Further words are unnecessary on this

subject, as the simple good sense and deep religious feeling of

the Irish will easily preserve them from yielding to such

temptation.

Yet, a last consideration seems worthy of note. When, later on,

we present our views, and explain by what means we consider that

the happiness of the Irish nation may be secured, and its

mission fulfilled, a more fitting opportunity will be presented

of speaking of the ways by which Providence has already led them

through former difficulties, and the consideration of those holy

designs and past favors may enable us better to understand what

may be hoped and attempted in the future.

Here it is enough to observe that, in whatever progress the

Irish have made of late in obtaining a certain amount of their

rights, insurrection, revolution, plots, and the working of

secret societies condemned by the Church, have absolutely gone

for nothing, and the little of it all, in which Irishmen have

indulged, really formed one of the main obstacles to the

enjoyment of what they had already obtained, and to the securing

of a greater amount for the future.

There is no doubt that revolutions abroad and dangers at home

have been the greatest inducements to England to relax her grasp

and change her tyrannical policy toward Ireland. The success of

the revolt of the North American colonies was the main cause of

the volunteer movement of 1782, and of the concessions then

temporarily granted. The fearful upheaval of revolutionary

France, which filled the English heart with a wholesome dread,

was also a great means of obtaining for Ireland the concession

of being no longer treated as though it were a lair of wild

beasts or a nest of outlaws. The act of Catholic Emancipation in

1829 was certainly granted in view of immediate revolutions

ready to burst forth, one of which did explode in France in the

year following. But, in all those outbursts of popular fury,

Ireland never joined; and if she found in them new ground for

hope, if she awaited anxiously the anticipated result turning in

her favor, she never took any active part whatever in them. She

only relied on God, who always knows how to draw good from evil;

she, however, profited by them, and saw her shackles fall off of

themselves, and herself brought back, step by step, to liberty.

But so soon as any body of Irishmen entered into a scheme of a

similar nature, imitating the secret plottings and deeds of

European revolutionists, Ireland never gained a single inch of

ground, nor reaped the slightest advantage from such attempts.

On the contrary, ridicule, contempt, increase of burdens,

penalties, and harsh treatment, were the only result which ever

came from them, and, worst of all, no one pitied the victims of

all those foolish enterprises. There is no need of entering here

into details. The first of those attempts failed long ago; the

last is still on record, and cannot be yet said to belong to

past history.

The Irish Race in the Past and the Present · 第 14 / 19 章