Returning to settle in Ireland after an absence that began more than
twenty years ago, I found two things strongly claiming my attention.
One, was the very great advance in material well-being which my country
appeared to have made. The other, was the fact that both Englishmen and
Irishmen appeared resolutely to ignore this progress. Nearly all who
write and speak about Ireland, either dwell upon her grievances or
assume poverty as her normal condition. I know not of any who have
attempted to record her returning prosperity. Yet there are few facts in
modern history better worthy of notice than the advance in material
wealth which has taken place in Ireland during the thirty years between
1846 and 1876.
The year 1879 marks the close of just one-third of a century from the
great famine. The first thirty years of this period, 1846-76, were years
of continual advance in well-being. From 1877 and down to the present
year a reaction has been going on, which is largely connected with a
general depression of trade all over the world. For reasons which will
appear hereafter, I do not hold that this reaction is likely to be
permanent.
It is true that at the beginning of that period the country was in the
very lowest depths of poverty and depression. The starting-point
therefore was a very backward one: and the wonder is that so much
advance should have been made, considering not only the backwardness of
the starting-point but the difficulties of the road.
I shall not attempt to depict the state of things which prevailed at the
close of the great potato famine. The condition of the country is well
known; the facts are in the recollection of many persons now living; and
the evidence is within the reach of all inquirers. I may safely assume
that Ireland then was among the very poorest of all the countries in
Europe. What is her position now?
In discussing the social condition of any country, the population
question naturally comes to the front. Is the population pressing unduly
on the means of subsistence? then there is something wrong, and until
this is set right progress is impossible. On the other hand, if the
population is so sparse as to leave the resources of the country
undeveloped, there is also something wrong, though in this case the evil
is far less. The population, such as it is, may be prosperous and
advancing, though it is not producing all it might.
The former was notoriously the state of things in Ireland before
1847.[21] In 1845 (the year immediately preceding the famine) the
population was at the highest point it attained during the present
century, and probably the highest it ever reached. It was estimated at
8,295,061. In 1847, the year when the famine was at its height, the
numbers are given as 8,025,274. In 1875, just thirty years after the
maximum, the numbers had fallen to 5,309,494. In 1877 they were
estimated at 5,338,906, showing an increase over 1875 of 29,412.
It is a familiar fact that the population of 1845 and 1847 was
excessive. Whether the present population may not be defective in regard
of productive power is a question not without importance, but not
immediately relevant. What we are now dealing with is the material
welfare of the existing population; and it is clear that five millions
can live where eight cannot. But are the five millions better off in
some proportion to the price the country has paid for the decrease in
population? And is there a real advance in the condition of the people,
not a mere rise out of beggary and starvation?
In attempting an answer to a question of this nature, one looks
naturally to the rate of wages first. But this test is an imperfect one:
partly because local variations are still considerable; partly because
money payments in many places and among large classes are more or less
supplemented by subsistence drawn directly from the land. Besides, a
mere increase in money wages may mean little or nothing, unless the
increased wages possess increased purchasing power, and there be at the
same time an upward tendency in the standard of living. Putting aside
the wages question accordingly (to be discussed hereafter), let us try
to find other indications of the extent and nature of the changes in the
people's condition since the famine. A test of some value, though not
absolutely conclusive by itself, will be afforded by changes in the area
of farms. It is notorious that one of the causes which most contributed
to bring about the famine and its miseries was the small size of
holdings. Now the census returns show that from 1851, very shortly after
the famine, there has been a steady decrease in the number of farms
under fifteen acres, and a steady increase in the number of farms
between fifteen and thirty acres, as well as in farms exceeding thirty
acres in area. Up to 1861 the number of holdings not exceeding fifteen
acres had declined fifty-five per cent., while those above fifteen acres
had increased 133 per cent. The number of farms between fifteen and
thirty acres was in 1861 double what it had been in 1841, and the farms
above thirty acres amounted in 1861 to 157,833, against 48,625, which
had been their number twenty years before. Between 1861 and 1871 farms
under fifteen acres decreased by 12,548, and farms above thirty acres
increased by 1470. According to the latest returns (1875) the farms not
exceeding one acre in area were 51,459; those of one to five acres were
69,098; those of five to fifteen acres, 166,959; fifteen to thirty
acres, 137,669; the total above thirty acres being 160,298 holdings.
This distribution of the land seems to indicate a considerable
improvement compared with the state of things prevailing before the
famine. Unfortunately the increase in the size of holdings has not been
attended by a corresponding decrease in the number held on an insecure
tenure. Tenancy at will continues to be the rule, and permanency the
exception, in our land tenure. I have made an attempt to estimate
roughly the classes of landholders. The "Domesday" list of proprietors
of land gives the number of owners of one acre and under ten as 6892,
holding 28,968 acres, or an average of a little over four acres each:
between ten acres and fifty there are 7746 owners, holding 195,525
acres, or an average a little over twenty-six acres: between fifty acres
and a hundred there are 3479 owners, holding 250,147 acres, or an
average of just under seventy-two acres. These make up a body of small
proprietors, owning from one to a hundred acres, numbering 18,117.
_Eason's Almanac_ for 1879, which has been published while I write,
estimates the number of "proprietors in fee" of agricultural holdings at
20,217. The same authority gives the number of leaseholders in
perpetuity as 10,298; for terms of years exceeding thirty-one as 13,712;
for thirty-one years and under, 47,623 (many of which may be short
leases); and of leases for lives, or lives and years alternative, as
63,759. The number of tenancies at will is 526,628, or 77.2 per cent, of
the whole number of holdings. These statistics were collected in 1870,
and they have doubtless been in some degree modified by the working of
the Church Act and the Land Act. I have omitted from my extracts from
the Domesday list the proprietors of under one acre. These are given in
_Thom's Directory_ as 36,144, holding 9065 acres; but their holdings do
not affect the present question, as they are mostly non-agricultural.
The estimate in _Eason's Almanac_ purports to relate wholly to
agricultural holdings. Domesday includes all classes.
Another index of the condition of a people may be found in the way they
are housed. Mean and comfortless dwellings imply not only a low standard
of comfort, but often a low morality. Let us see how this matter has
stood in Ireland. The Census Commissioners of 1841 divided the dwellings
of the people into four classes. The fourth, or lowest, comprised all
mud cabins having only one room. Of this class there were in all
Ireland, according to the 1841 census, 491,278. In the last census,
1871, the number had fallen to 155,675. The third-class dwellings were
also built of mud, but contained three or four rooms, with windows; the
latter convenience being by no means universally present in the
one-roomed cabin of the fourth class. Of the third class the census of
1841 enumerated 533,297; by 1871 this number had fallen to 357,126. The
second class are described as good farmhouses, and in towns, houses
having from five to nine rooms. Of this class in 1841 there were
264,184; and in 1871 the number had increased to 387,660. The first
class of houses increased during the same period from 40,080 to 60,919.
Let us see now in what way the population has been distributed in the
different classes of houses. In 1841 the number of families occupying
first-class houses was 31,333. In 1871 the number had risen to 49,693.
During the same period the number of families in second-class houses
rose from 241,664 to 357,752. On the other hand, the families in
third-class houses decreased from 574,386 to 432,774; and those in the
fourth-class, or one-roomed cabins, from 625,356 to 227,379. By a
curious coincidence, the _proportion_ of families to houses was the same
in 1841 and in 1871--one hundred and eleven families to one hundred
houses. In this way the very great shifting in the _classes_ is all the
more clearly proved to indicate a real rise in the condition of the
people.
In connection with this part of my subject, I may now proceed to discuss
the wages question and the condition of the labouring population. Of the
actual number of this class I can find no accurate return. But we have
already seen that the number of families inhabiting the lowest class of
houses (and these may be assumed all to belong to the lowest class of
labourers) was about 227,400. As the census of 1871 gave the average
number of a family as 5.07, or 507 persons to 100 families, we may
estimate the number of this class at 2274 multiplied by 507, or
1,152,918. Those who inhabit a better class of house may be safely
assumed on the whole to be better off in other respects. Now the money
wages of the ordinary agricultural labourer are 1_s._ 6_d._ a day in the
most remote and backward places. This is the minimum, and in harvest
time the labourers earn 2_s._ 6_d._ a day. A great many labourers have
small holdings; but as these are not rent-free they do not count
directly as an element in wages. The way in which they do count is that
the people are not so overworked but that the labourer and his family
can attend to the holding, grow their own potatoes, feed the pig,
&c.--thereby eking out the actual money payment.
The diet of these labourers (I am still referring to the most backward
and remote parts of Ireland) is tea and bread for breakfast, potatoes
and a little bacon for dinner, and oatmeal porridge for supper. The
people have quite risen out of the "potatoes and point" stage of
feeding. Of course, on Fridays and other fast-days, Roman Catholics
abstain from flesh meat; but there are few places so remote from the sea
that fresh herrings are not to be had, and at any rate salt ones are
always available. On the other hand, on Sundays and holidays many of the
labouring families contrive to have butcher's meat; and I am told that
in certain districts there is one day in the year when every family
among the peasantry makes an invariable rule to eat a dinner of fresh
meat, some animal (often a fowl) being killed on purpose to furnish this
meal. This is probably some relic of a sacrificial observance.
The condition of the people being such as I have described, one would
naturally expect not to find pauperism very prevalent. As a matter of
fact it is not. The average daily number of paupers in the workhouses
throughout 1876 was 43,235, and of recipients of out-door relief 31,600:
bringing up the total to 74,835. The average of persons in receipt of
relief was 140.6 in 10,000 of population. This daily average represents
the current subsisting mass of pauperism, and is in a considerable
measure made up of the old, infirm, and sick. Of able-bodied paupers,
the males were only 1697 in the daily average of workhouse inmates, and
the females were 4130. There were 10,134 healthy children under fifteen
in the workhouses, and the other inmates were either sick in hospital or
permanently unable to work. These figures seem to be the very reverse of
alarming. Permanent pauperism is not a very virulent social disorder
when only two able-bodied persons to every five hundred of the
population are in receipt of in-door relief, and when the whole
permanent pauper population barely exceeds fourteen in a thousand. But
though permanent pauperism may be well in hand, casual pauperism may be
at a high pitch. Let us see how this matter has stood. I shall first
take the statistics of 1876, and then try to modify my conclusions by
such later figures as may be available. In 1876 the population of
England and Wales stood at 24,244,000, and the total of paupers in
receipt of relief, in-door and out-door, on the 1st of January of that
year, was 752,887; Scotland, with a population of 3,527,000, had a total
pauper population on the 1st of January, 1876, of 66,733. In Ireland, on
the same date, the total population being 5,321,600, the paupers
amounted to 77,913. In other words, at a rough estimate, on the 1st of
January, 1876, about one person in every thirty-three in England and
Wales was in receipt of relief as a pauper; in Scotland, about one in
every fifty-three; while in Ireland the proportion was only one in
sixty-eight. A similar proportion appears in the incidence of the
poor-rate. In 1876 England and Wales paid at the rate of 6_s._ 0-3/4_d._
per head of population; Scotland 5_s_. 0-1/2_d._; Ireland only 3_s._
4_d._
Of course these figures must undergo modification in view of the altered
circumstances of the present time. The statistics of 1876 are not an
accurate guide to the facts of 1879. During the last three years there
has been considerable depression of trade; and it may very well be that
the returns of this year will indicate an ebb in the tide of prosperity.
But, unless I am very much mistaken, after making all allowances, it
will probably be found that Ireland is the part of the United Kingdom
least affected by the present prolonged commercial crisis.[22]
The figures and facts recorded above will probably astonish the
considerable class of persons to whom the word "Irish" has an air of
wanting something, unless it is followed by "pauper." A smaller but
perhaps not less intelligent class--that of English travellers in
Ireland--will promptly jump to the conclusion that the figures are
cooked; they will argue, "We have travelled in Ireland, and have been
beset with beggars; how, then, can the country be so free from
pauperism? Surely the true state of the case is that the people keep out
of the workhouses merely in order to live on public charity in another
form?" It cannot, I regret to say, be denied that mendicancy is very
common in Ireland; so common as to be little less than a national
scandal. There is, however, something to be said in mitigation of
judgment, though perhaps not in defence. It is a matter in which figures
are of little use; for no one could, by any possibility, estimate how
many persons live wholly by begging. That there are in every community
some persons who do may be taken as certain. That their number is larger
in proportion to the bulk of the population in a Roman Catholic than in
a Protestant community, is antecedently probable. The theory of the
Roman Catholic religion positively encourages mendicancy. It is held to
be no sin to live on alms, and to be a positive merit to give alms.
_Never turn away thy face from any poor man_, is a text acted on by
devout Romanists in its most literal acceptation. The result is not
difficult to foresee. It must, however, be recorded to the credit of the
Irish Catholic clergy, that they are beginning to see the folly of
indiscriminate almsgiving; and though they are hampered in no small
degree by the traditions of their Church, they have made many successful
efforts in the direction of the organization of charity. Another
influence, which largely contributes to the existence of the mendicancy
that scandalizes the traveller, is the tradition of recent poverty. The
habits of centuries are not effaced in a generation. Not much more than
twenty years ago, begging was a recognized necessity in the life of the
Irish poor. But now, when times are moderately prosperous, begging is
limited almost wholly to old people who hang about the doors of Catholic
chapels, and about places frequented by tourists. On the roads leading
to such "show places," also, the tourist will be often beset by little
knots of children clamouring for half-pence; but these are no more
professional beggars than a gentleman who amuses himself with pheasant
shooting is a professional dealer in game. It is a form of excitement
with them; not a very high one to be sure, but not meaner or more
vicious than baccarat or rouge-et-noir.
Still, when all is said, there is more mendicancy in Ireland than would
exist if things were in a healthier state; and where mendicancy is
common, pauperism must fluctuate largely. In more prosperous times, a
larger number of mendicants can find support from a more copious supply
of alms. When evil times curtail the fund whence alms are supplied, the
mendicant must fall back on legal relief. From this point of view the
small increase of six in ten thousand, already referred to,[23] seems to
show that the commercial depression of 1877 has not largely touched the
revenues of the Irish mendicant!
An account of the condition of the Irish people would be incomplete
without some reference to the statistics of drunkenness and crime. Here
we shall find some results of a rather surprising kind. Thus, in England
and Wales in 1876, the population being 24,244,000, the number of
drunkards brought before magistrates was 205,567; being, at an
approximate estimate, one in every 118 of the population. In Scotland,
the population being 3,527,800, the drunkards arrested numbered 26,209,
or about one in 134. In Ireland, the population being 5,321,600, the
drunkards brought before magistrates were 112,253; showing the enormous
proportion of one in every 47 of the people. Of course these figures in
all three kingdoms include very many cases of repeated conviction, so
that it would not be fair to say that one man in every 118 in England,
still less in every 47 in Ireland, is actually a drunkard. All the same,
this comparison is sufficiently alarming as well as perplexing. It is
rather paradoxical to find Scotland showing a smaller proportion of
apparent drunkards than either of the other kingdoms; and some people
might be ill-natured enough to hint that this result depended mainly on
greater skill in keeping out of the hands of the police. On the other
hand, a patriotic Irishman might, without any very flagrant paradox,
argue that the fact of so many Irish being arrested for being drunk
proves that they are actually a more sober people. It takes less to make
an Irishman drunk, partly because he is more excitable in temperament,
and partly because he drinks but seldom. The habitually temperate man,
when he does casually exceed, shows his condition very promptly; the
habitual toper can dissemble it far longer. Another reason that may be
given for the state of things here indicated, is that the police force
is more numerous in Ireland in proportion to the population than in
England or Scotland;[24] and as, for reasons which will be hereafter
seen, the police have actually less to do, they are able to expend a
quantity of surplus energy in arresting drunkards whom the busier
constables of England and Scotland would allow to stagger quietly home.
That some or all these causes are in operation to bring about the
startling excess of apparent drunkenness in Ireland, is manifest when we
come to discuss the statistics of crime. The connection of crime with
drink is a commonplace of moralists; but, like most other commonplaces,
it requires to be seriously tested by the light of facts.
The crimes with which drink is most closely connected are naturally
those which come under the class of offences against the person. Drink
may, indeed, prompt offences against property; but chiefly in an
indirect fashion. A drunkard is very likely to be in want of things
which he may seek to obtain by theft; but drink is not the sole cause of
poverty, and professional thieves are not habitual drunkards. Referring
then to the class of offences against the person, we find that in 1876
only four persons were sentenced to death in all Ireland. The number
sentenced in England was 32. Here is already a considerable discrepancy;
for the population of England is to that of Ireland in the proportion of
only about four and two-fifths to one, and the death sentences in
England were eight times as numerous as in Ireland.[25] But this is not
all. Nearly all the murders in Ireland are agrarian, and with these
drink is only casually if at all connected. On the other hand, nearly
every murder in England is committed more or less under the influence of
intoxication. Turning to the secondary punishments, we find twelve
sentences of penal servitude for life in England, while there were none
in Ireland. Ten of these twelve ought perhaps to be discounted, as
representing ten commutations of capital punishment, for of the
thirty-two persons sentenced to death in England only twenty-two were
executed. But the most remarkable discrepancy is seen when we come to
sentences of penal servitude for terms of years. Of these there were
only fifty in Ireland against 280 in England. In the absence of returns
of crime actually committed (including undetected offences), it is not
easy to pronounce an opinion of much value; but from the statistics of
conviction it would appear that violent crimes against the person are
much less prevalent in proportion to the population in Ireland than in
England. These results are by no means contrary to reasonable
expectation, when we consider the vast congestion of population in
London and other cities in England, to which there is no parallel
anywhere in Ireland. But, such as they are, they seem to show that the
apparent addiction of Irishmen to strong drink is not attended by a
proportionate addiction to the more serious forms of crime. On the other
hand (and this must be recorded for whatever it may be worth), we have
1078 sentences of imprisonment and other minor penalties inflicted in
Ireland, against only 1533 similar sentences in England.
Turning now to the class of offences against property with violence, we
find two sentences of penal servitude for life in England, against none
in Ireland; 271 sentences for terms of years in England, against 26 in
Ireland; 898 sentences of minor terms of imprisonment against only 69 in
Ireland. In cases of this nature one might naturally expect drink to be
a considerable predisposing cause. On the other hand, there is no
assignable connection between drink and crime unaccompanied by violence,
except in so far as poverty is an effect of drink and a cause for crime.
Even here, however, the proportion fails; for the convictions for minor
offences against property in Ireland were only 798, against 10,674 in
England: and of these only 104 suffered penal servitude for terms of
years, against 1063 in England.
All this, it may be said, simply shows that there must be a great deal
of undetected crime in Ireland. To a certain extent, no doubt, this is
true; but the remark applies chiefly to some of the more serious crimes,
especially agrarian murder. There is not the same motive for concealing
minor forms of crime, nor perhaps would even the Ribbon organization
make such concealment practicable. To be sure it may be urged that,
though minor crime is not purposely concealed, the police are too busy
keeping the peace and looking after Fenians and Ribbonmen to have time
for detecting ordinary thefts. This fact may, indeed, have something to
do with the apparent scarcity of petty crime in Ireland; but this is
certainly not the aspect of the case usually dwelt upon, by Judges of
Assizes, for instance, when a Grand Jury sends up a pair of white gloves
instead of a sheaf of criminal indictments. However this may be, I
merely record the facts as I find them; leaving readers, for the most
part, to draw what inferences the facts seem to suggest. One inference
they suggest to me is, that Irishmen are not such very drunken animals
after all; or else that they are somehow or other an exception to the
rule which connects drink and crime. The undeniable blot on the Irish
character--agrarian outrage--is not to be accounted for by drink. The
true explanation is familiar to all who really know the country. The
Irish peasant is very largely dependent on the soil for his support, and
believes himself to be wholly so. He also believes himself to have a
moral and a historical right to the possession of the soil; a belief
which contains a considerable admixture of truth, provided it be stated
with the proper limitations. Unluckily, the Irish peasant holds it
without any limitation at all; and herein lies the secret of his
hostility to the law. The peasant ejected, or in fear of ejectment,
looks on himself as a ruined man (which he need not be), and as a
wronged man (which he is only very partially). Men ruined and wronged
have always been raw material for brigands; and the Ribbonman is simply
a brigand in a frieze coat.
I have no desire to compose an Essay on the Land Question; but it is
absolutely impracticable to discuss Irish social economy without finding
the Land Question in one's way. It is the question which most closely
concerns the industrial classes; for the land is the mainstay of Irish
industry. It is the pivot upon which all Irish politics turn; for
although priestly influence counts for a great deal, that influence
itself depends in great measure on the land hunger of the peasantry. I
feel that I should be leaving Hamlet out of the play if I did not say a
few words on the matter. As I have already hinted, the Irish peasant has
three reasons for his desire to be "rooted in the soil." One is a
traditional reason. He thinks that his forefathers were unjustly ousted
by foreign conquerors. His belief rests on an utterly distorted view of
history. It is true that eight hundred years ago a few of the ancestors
of a few of the existing peasantry might in a sort of sense have been
called landowners. But so far as the Gaelic race survives, it would be
equally true to say that the ancestors of the existing peasantry had
been the serfs or the slaves of barbarous chieftains. The old Gaelic
tribal ownership, if left to itself, might or might not have ripened
into a peasant proprietary; but the only real grievance which the
existing Gaelic peasantry can allege, is that the English conquest
forcibly interrupted the natural process of evolution. Moreover, a large
number of the existing peasants are no true Gael at all, but the
descendants of Danes, Normans, and the various waves of Saxon settlers
from Elizabeth to William of Orange. In parts of Ireland there are even
to be found the descendants of French Huguenots, of Scotch fugitives
involved in the Stuart insurrections, and of refugees of 1793. That such
a _colluvies gentium_ should claim to be the heirs of Septs which
occupied the land
"Ere the emerald gem of the Western world
Had been set in the crown of a stranger,"
is simply a proof of profound ignorance of history. Such, however, is
the vague traditional belief; and it is complicated with a moral
sentiment, that he who tills the land has a right to live by the land.
The sentiment is open to no objection, provided it be understood that
the land is an instrument of production in which the whole community is
interested. The cultivator has the same right to live by the land as the
artisan to live by his handicraft, and no more--that is, both peasant
and artisan have a right to expect that the social system shall be so
adjusted that neither shall be unjustly deprived of the fruit of his
labour. But neither peasant nor artisan can claim that any instrument of
production shall be used for the sole sake of the producer. Hence, even
if peasant proprietorship were undeniably the best thing for the
peasant, it does not follow that he has a moral right to it, unless it
be good for the whole community as well. This consideration is too
often neglected by the thorough-going advocates of peasant
proprietorship. They assume that the interests of the peasants are the
only interests to be considered. In Ireland, indeed, they are not far
wrong; for the peasantry _are_ very nearly the whole community. This,
however, only raises the previous question, whether peasant
proprietorship would be a success in Ireland--of which hereafter. The
last and most practical of the agrarian arguments is that a tenant
evicted is a man ruined. Even this is only partially true, and at most
is only an argument against capricious eviction. It is conclusive as
against the system of tenancy at will, or any of those short tenures
which are, in fact, a standing notice to quit. It holds good in favour
of peasant proprietorship to this extent--that the ruin of a peasant
proprietor can only occur through his own fault or misfortune, and not
through the caprice of a landlord. In short, the discontent of the Irish
peasantry proves that the Anglo-Irish system of tenure is about the
worst of all possible systems; but it proves little or nothing in favour
of peasant ownership.
My own opinion (_valeat quantum_) is that the soil and climate of
Ireland render the country utterly unfit to maintain a considerable body
of peasant proprietors; but that, nevertheless, it would be wise and
politic to establish peasant properties as widely as may be practicable.
The climate is notoriously damp, and variable in the extreme. Grain
crops are inferior and precarious--root crops are not much better--even
meadows are untrustworthy, because of the difficulty of haymaking--but
Irish pasture is perhaps the best in the world. Natural conditions mark
out Ireland as a pastoral and cattle-breeding country; and such a
country is the destined home of _latifundia_. It is not merely that
cattle require large spaces of pasture; but the trade in cattle requires
capital, and requires the power of staying through seasons of adversity.
An attempt to breed or deal in cattle by a class of peasant proprietors,
acting singly, could only end in ruin; a ruin even more complete than
bad seasons would bring upon unsuccessful cultivators of grain. Another
product for which Ireland is eminently fitted is timber.[26] This also
obviously requires spaces of land, and intervals of idle capital,
utterly incompatible with any system of small holdings. Nature would
seem to have marked out Ireland as a country to be thinly populated;
historical accident once made her one of the most populous of countries,
and we all know what came of it. The people were dependent on a single
kind of food; it failed, and misery ensued such as modern Europe had
never beheld. The scenes of 1847 we may devoutly hope will never be
witnessed again; but such a season as 1878-79 would be a trial that few
peasant proprietors could stand. Why then do I say that a peasant
proprietary ought to be created? Because I believe that in the
experiment is to be found the sole method of convincing the Irish
peasants that their true interest lies in quite another direction. The
peasant now believes that all he wants in order to be prosperous is to
be "rooted in the soil." It is of no use to appeal to abstract
reasoning. He knows that he has to pay rent, and that he is liable to
eviction for non-payment. Carefully as recent legislation has guarded
him against capricious eviction, he knows that if his landlord chooses
to pay for turning him out, out he must go. The few of his neighbours
who do acquire freeholds, he perceives to be comparatively prosperous.
He does not take into account that the prosperity of the freeholder is
maintained by precisely the same exceptional energy and thrift which in
the first instance enabled him to secure the freehold. Besides, it is
undeniable that _caeteris paribus_ a man who holds rent-free is likely to
be better off than one who pays rent; and so long as rent is the rule
and freehold the exception, the few freeholders will seem at least to
possess an advantage over the many rentpayers. In short, the peasant
farmer will never cease to believe ownership a panacea for all his ills,
until he shall have tried it, and failed. Of course it does not
absolutely follow that the experiment of creating a peasant proprietary
must needs fail. It may succeed; and then the Irish land problem is
solved. For the reasons given above, however, I think it would fail. If
all the holdings of fifteen acres and under (there are 285,000[27] of
them, or nearly half the whole number of farms in Ireland) were turned
into peasant properties tomorrow, I believe they would in thirty, or at
most in fifty, years be recast into large cattle farms, owned probably
for the most part by joint-stock companies. The process of consolidation
would be partly the buying out of ruined peasants after some such
seasons as we are now undergoing; partly a voluntary union of the
residue, who would find association desirable in order to secure a
sufficiency of land and capital. But those who might be compelled to
part with their lands could no longer ascribe their ruin to the tenure
by which they held. It would be made clear to them and to all concerned
that it is the laws of Nature and not the laws of England which hinder
Ireland from maintaining a dense agricultural population.
It may be urged against what I have here said, that it is hardly worth
while engaging in a social revolution merely in order that the last
state of things may turn out on the whole very similar to the first. I
cannot deny the force of this remark; though I may suggest, in my turn,
that perhaps it is worth while to make some sacrifice for the sake of
attaining stable equilibrium in the social system. I am persuaded that
the one great difficulty in Irish affairs is to convince the peasant
that the law is a power not hostile but friendly to him. This is no easy
task. It is not so very long since the law actually was the hard master
it is still supposed to be. Nor is the peasant's own attitude of mind a
very easy one to deal with. He clamours loudly to be "rooted in the
soil," or, in other words, to be made absolute owner of his farm; but he
clamours not less loudly against the absenteeship of his landlord. He
utterly fails to perceive the inconsistency of his position. He cannot
eat his cake and have his cake. He cannot be at one and the same time
tenant to a resident lord of the manor, and owner in fee-simple of his
own holding. Absolute peasant ownership is _prima facie_ incompatible
with the very existence of a landed aristocracy; and it may be some
perception of this that induces certain of the land agitators to propose
fixity of tenure at a quit-rent rather than absolute peasant
proprietorship. But it is clear that this is a mere evasion of the
difficulty. A landlord, who is merely a rent-charger, has no more motive
to reside on his estate than if he sold it and lived on the interest of
the purchase-money. There is no doubt a sense in which the two things
are not absolutely incompatible. Peasant properties might be intermixed
with large estates owned by resident landlords. And this would certainly
constitute a state of things by no means undesirable; in fact, it is
what might possibly emerge from the experiment I have mentioned above. I
think it more than probable that a great deal of the land, after such an
experiment, would fall into the hands of joint-stock companies; but a
considerable portion might also be bought up by individuals, who might
choose to become resident landlords. It must, however, be remembered
that there are many things besides agrarian agitation which tempt Irish
landlords to become absentees. Residence in Ireland is attended with
many drawbacks and discomforts, even when a landlord is on the best of
terms with his tenantry. Absenteeism is no new complaint; Adam Smith
discussed proposals for an absentee-tax. Its prevalence is not
uncommonly ascribed to the Union, but it might as well be ascribed to
the Deluge. The most potent causes of absenteeism in the latter half of
the nineteenth century are the City of Dublin Steam Navigation Company,
and the London and North-Western Railway. These, and kindred
institutions, are also the channels which conduct a vast deal of wealth
into Ireland; and if absenteeism constitutes a perennial drain on her
resources, the facilities of locomotion cause the drain to return
ten-fold.[28] If these facilities did not exist, it does not follow that
the landlords who remained at home would necessarily be of much use to
the community. The squires and _squireens_ in Lever's and Maxwell's
novels are very amusing to read about; but they are a race that nobody
at the present day would seriously wish to revive. However this may be,
there is little inducement for the existing landlords to remain resident
in a country where they are continually threatened, and occasionally
shot. I cannot help thinking that in the tendency to absenteeism,
courageous statesmanship might find the means of solving the Land
problem. There should be little difficulty, one would imagine, in
persuading a number of existing Irish landlords to part with their
estates for a reasonable compensation.[29] The Church Surplus is at hand
to provide the purchase-money. After deducting the sums to be paid to
the Intermediate Education Board, and to the National School Teachers'
Pension Fund, there will remain nearly four millions in the hands of the
Temporalities Commission. This money judiciously advanced to tenant
farmers would enable a considerable number of them to acquire the
freehold of their farms, and thus the foundations of a peasant
proprietary might be laid without any confiscation or disturbance of
vested rights. The Royal Commission on Agriculture would perhaps be a
good medium for acquiring information on this subject. They might
include in the scope of their inquiry the best method of carrying out
some such scheme as has been here indicated.
Having set out with no intention beyond that of offering a general view
of a few leading facts and figures relating to Irish affairs, I find
myself insensibly gliding into a political discussion. So far as I have
any excuse for this, it must be found in the irrepressible character of
the Land problem; which, as I before remarked, can by no possibility be
evaded by any one who writes on Irish social economy. Yet this problem
itself is in one aspect simply a phase of the struggle going on all over
the world between, labour and capital. Side by side with this there is
yet another struggle going on, which is also a phase of a world-wide
conflict. It is the old story of Priesthood against Free Thought; but in
Ireland, like nearly all things Irish, it bears a peculiar aspect of its
own. Many a man here would be amazed to be told that he is fighting on
the side of the priests; yet the Irish Orange Tory, and to some extent
even the Irish Evangelical clergyman, is really and truly (though of
course unconsciously) helping the policy of the Roman Church. But it
would extend my essay beyond all reasonable limits to discuss this
matter; and besides, I set out to write on statistics, and not on
politics.[30]