DEAR ABRAHAM,—No Catholic can be chief Governor or Governor of this
kingdom, Chancellor or Keeper of the Great Seal, Lord High Treasurer,
Chief of any of the Courts of Justice, Chancellor of the Exchequer,
Puisne Judge, Judge in the Admiralty, Master of the Rolls, Secretary of
State, Keeper of the Privy Seal, Vice-Treasurer or his Deputy, Teller or
Cashier of Exchequer, Auditor or General, Governor or Custos Rotulorum of
Counties, Chief Governor’s Secretary, Privy Councillor, King’s Counsel,
Serjeant, Attorney, Solicitor-General, Master in Chancery, Provost or
Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin, Postmaster-General, Master and
Lieutenant-General of Ordnance, Commander-in-Chief, General on the Staff,
Sheriff, Sub-Sheriff, Mayor, Bailiff, Recorder, Burgess, or any other
officer in a City, or a Corporation. No Catholic can be guardian to a
Protestant, and no priest guardian at all; no Catholic can be a
gamekeeper, or have for sale, or otherwise, any arms or warlike stores;
no Catholic can present to a living, unless he choose to turn Jew in
order to obtain that privilege; the pecuniary qualification of Catholic
jurors is made higher than that of Protestants, and no relaxation of the
ancient rigorous code is permitted, unless to those who shall take an
oath prescribed by 13 and 14 George III. Now if this is not picking the
plums out of the pudding and leaving the mere batter to the Catholics, I
know not what is. If it were merely the Privy Council, it would be (I
allow) nothing but a point of honour for which the mass of Catholics were
contending, the honour of being chief-mourners or pall-bearers to the
country; but surely no man will contend that every barrister may not
speculate upon the possibility of being a Puisne Judge; and that every
shopkeeper must not feel himself injured by his exclusion from borough
offices.
One of the greatest practical evils which the Catholics suffer in Ireland
is their exclusion from the offices of Sheriff and Deputy Sheriff.
Nobody who is unacquainted with Ireland can conceive the obstacles which
this opposes to the fair administration of justice. The formation of
juries is now entirely in the hands of the Protestants; the lives,
liberties, and properties of the Catholics in the hands of the juries;
and this is the arrangement for the administration of justice in a
country where religious prejudices are inflamed to the greatest degree of
animosity! In this country, if a man be a foreigner, if he sell
slippers, and sealing wax, and artificial flowers, we are so tender of
human life that we take care half the number of persons who are to decide
upon his fate should be men of similar prejudices and feelings with
himself: but a poor Catholic in Ireland may be tried by twelve Percevals,
and destroyed according to the manner of that gentleman in the name of
the Lord, and with all the insulting forms of justice. I do not go the
length of saying that deliberate and wilful injustice is done. I have no
doubt that the Orange Deputy Sheriff thinks it would be a most
unpardonable breach of his duty if he did not summon a Protestant panel.
I can easily believe that the Protestant panel may conduct themselves
very conscientiously in hanging the gentlemen of the crucifix; but I
blame the law which does not guard the Catholic against the probable
tenor of those feelings which must unconsciously influence the judgments
of mankind. I detest that state of society which extends unequal degrees
of protection to different creeds and persuasions; and I cannot describe
to you the contempt I feel for a man who, calling himself a statesman,
defends a system which fills the heart of every Irishman with treason,
and makes his allegiance prudence, not choice.
I request to know if the vestry taxes in Ireland are a mere matter of
romantic feeling which can affect only the Earl of Fingal? In a parish
where there are four thousand Catholics and fifty Protestants, the
Protestants may meet together in a vestry meeting at which no Catholic
has the right to vote, and tax all the lands in the parish 1s. 6d. per
acre, or in the pound, I forget which, for the repairs of the church—and
how has the necessity of these repairs been ascertained? A Protestant
plumber has discovered that it wants new leading; a Protestant carpenter
is convinced the timbers are not sound; and the glazier who hates holy
water (as an accoucheur hates celibacy, because he gets nothing by it) is
employed to put in new sashes.
The grand juries in Ireland are the great scene of jobbing. They have a
power of making a county rate to a considerable extent for roads,
bridges, and other objects of general accommodation. “You suffer the
road to be brought through my park, and I will have the bridge
constructed in a situation where it will make a beautiful object to your
house. You do my job, and I will do yours.” These are the sweet and
interesting subjects which occasionally occupy Milesian gentlemen while
they are attendant upon this grand inquest of justice. But there is a
religion, it seems, even in jobs; and it will be highly gratifying to Mr.
Perceval to learn that no man in Ireland who believes in seven sacraments
can carry a public road, or bridge, one yard out of the direction most
beneficial to the public, and that nobody can cheat the public who does
not expound the Scriptures in the purest and most orthodox manner. This
will give pleasure to Mr. Perceval: but, from his unfairness upon these
topics I appeal to the justice and the proper feelings of Mr. Huskisson.
I ask him if the human mind can experience a more dreadful sensation than
to see its own jobs refused, and the jobs of another religion perpetually
succeeding? I ask him his opinion of a jobless faith, of a creed which
dooms a man through life to a lean and plunderless integrity. He knows
that human nature cannot and will not bear it; and if we were to paint a
political Tartarus, it would be an endless series of snug expectations
and cruel disappointments. These are a few of many dreadful
inconveniences which the Catholics of all ranks suffer from the laws by
which they are at present oppressed. Besides, look at human nature: what
is the history of all professions? Joel is to be brought up to the bar:
has Mrs. Plymley the slightest doubt of his being Chancellor? Do not his
two shrivelled aunts live in the certainty of seeing him in that
situation, and of cutting out with their own hands his equity
habiliments? And I could name a certain minister of the Gospel who does
not, in the bottom of his heart, much differ from these opinions. Do you
think that the fathers and mothers of the holy Catholic Church are not as
absurd as Protestant papas and mammas? The probability I admit to be, in
each particular case, that the sweet little blockhead will in fact never
get a brief;—but I will venture to say, there is not a parent from the
Giant’s Causeway to Bantry Bay who does not conceive that his child is
the unfortunate victim of the exclusion, and that nothing short of
positive law could prevent his own dear, pre-eminent Paddy from rising to
the highest honours of the State. So with the army and parliament; in
fact, few are excluded; but, in imagination, all: you keep twenty or
thirty Catholics out, and you lose the affections of four millions; and,
let me tell you, that recent circumstances have by no means tended to
diminish in the minds of men that hope of elevation beyond their own rank
which is so congenial to our nature: from pleading for John Roe to taxing
John Bull, from jesting for Mr. Pitt and writing in the _Anti-Jacobin_,
to managing the affairs of Europe—these are leaps which seem to justify
the fondest dreams of mothers and of aunts.
I do not say that the disabilities to which the Catholics are exposed
amount to such intolerable grievances, that the strength and industry of
a nation are overwhelmed by them: the increasing prosperity of Ireland
fully demonstrates to the contrary. But I repeat again, what I have
often stated in the course of our correspondence, that your laws against
the Catholics are exactly in that state in which you have neither the
benefits of rigour nor of liberality: every law which prevented the
Catholic from gaining strength and wealth is repealed; every law which
can irritate remains; if you were determined to insult the Catholics, you
should have kept them weak; if you resolved to give them strength, you
should have ceased to insult them—at present your conduct is pure,
unadulterated folly.
Lord Hawkesbury says, “We heard nothing about the Catholics till we began
to mitigate the laws against them; when we relieved them in part from
this oppression they began to be disaffected.” This is very true; but it
proves just what I have said, that you have either done too much or too
little; and as there lives not, I hope, upon earth, so depraved a
courtier that he would load the Catholics with their ancient chains, what
absurdity it is, then, not to render their dispositions friendly, when
you leave their arms and legs free!
You know, and many Englishmen know, what passes in China; but nobody
knows or cares what passes in Ireland. At the beginning of the present
reign no Catholic could realise property, or carry on any business; they
were absolutely annihilated, had had no more agency in the country than
so many trees. They were like Lord Mulgrave’s eloquence and Lord
Camden’s wit; the legislative bodies did not know of their existence.
For these twenty-five years last past the Catholics have been engaged in
commerce; within that period the commerce of Ireland has doubled—there
are four Catholics at work for one Protestant, and eight Catholics at
work for one Episcopalian. Of course, the proportion which Catholic
wealth bears to Protestant wealth is every year altering rapidly in
favour of the Catholics. I have already told you what their purchases of
land were the last year: since that period I have been at some pains to
find out the actual state of the Catholic wealth: it is impossible upon
such a subject to arrive at complete accuracy; but I have good reason to
believe that there are at present 2,000 Catholics in Ireland, possessing
an income of £500 and upwards, many of these with incomes of one, two,
three, and four thousand, and some amounting to fifteen and twenty
thousand per annum:—and this is the kingdom, and these the people, for
whose conciliation we are to wait Heaven knows when, and Lord Hawkesbury
why! As for me, I never think of the situation of Ireland without
feeling the same necessity for immediate interference as I should do if I
saw blood flowing from a great artery. I rush towards it with the
instinctive rapidity of a man desirous of preventing death, and have no
other feeling but that in a few seconds the patient may be no more.
I could not help smiling, in the times of No Popery, to witness the loyal
indignation of many persons at the attempt made by the last ministry to
do something for the relief of Ireland. The general cry in the country
was, that they would not see their beloved Monarch used ill in his old
age, and that they would stand by him to the last drop of their blood. I
respect good feelings, however erroneous be the occasions on which they
display themselves; and therefore I saw in all this as much to admire as
to blame. It was a species of affection, however, which reminded me very
forcibly of the attachment displayed by the servants of the Russian
ambassador at the beginning of the last century. His Excellency happened
to fall down in a kind of apoplectic fit, when he was paying a morning
visit in the house of an acquaintance. The confusion was of course very
great, and messengers were despatched in every direction to find a
surgeon: who, upon his arrival, declared that his Excellency must be
immediately blooded, and prepared himself forthwith to perform the
operation: the barbarous servants of the embassy, who were there in great
numbers, no sooner saw the surgeon prepared to wound the arm of their
master with a sharp, shining instrument, than they drew their swords, put
themselves in an attitude of defence, and swore in pure Sclavonic, “that
they would murder any man who attempted to do him the slightest injury:
he had been a very good master to them, and they would not desert him in
his misfortunes, or suffer his blood to be shed while he was off his
guard, and incapable of defending himself.” By good fortune, the
secretary arrived about this period of the dispute, and his Excellency,
relieved from superfluous blood and perilous affection, was, after much
difficulty, restored to life.
There is an argument brought forward with some appearance of plausibility
in the House of Commons, which certainly merits an answer: You know that
the Catholics now vote for members of parliament in Ireland, and that
they outnumber the Protestants in a very great proportion; if you allow
Catholics to sit in parliament, religion will be found to influence votes
more than property, and the greater part of the 100 Irish members who are
returned to parliament will be Catholics. Add to these the Catholic
members who are returned in England, and you will have a phalanx of
heretical strength which every minister will be compelled to respect, and
occasionally to conciliate by concessions incompatible with the interests
of the Protestant Church. The fact is, however, that you are at this
moment subjected to every danger of this kind which you can possibly
apprehend hereafter. If the spiritual interests of the voters are more
powerful than their temporal interests, they can bind down their
representatives to support any measures favourable to the Catholic
religion, and they can change the objects of their choice till they have
found Protestant members (as they easily may do) perfectly obedient to
their wishes. If the superior possessions of the Protestants prevent the
Catholics from uniting for a common political object, then the danger you
fear cannot exist: if zeal, on the contrary, gets the better of acres,
then the danger at present exists, from the right of voting already given
to the Catholics, and it will not be increased by allowing them to sit in
parliament. There are, as nearly as I can recollect, thirty seats in
Ireland for cities and counties, where the Protestants are the most
numerous, and where the members returned must of course be Protestants.
In the other seventy representations the wealth of the Protestants is
opposed to the number of the Catholics; and if all the seventy members
returned were of the Catholic persuasion, they must still plot the
destruction of our religion in the midst of 588 Protestants. Such
terrors would disgrace a cook-maid, or a toothless aunt—when they fall
from the lips of bearded and senatorial men, they are nauseous,
antiperistaltic, and emetical.
How can you for a moment doubt of the rapid effects which would be
produced by the emancipation? In the first place, to my certain
knowledge the Catholics have long since expressed to his Majesty’s
Ministers their perfect readiness _to vest in his Majesty_, _either with
the consent of the Pope_, _or without it if it cannot be obtained_, _the
nomination of the Catholic prelacy_. The Catholic prelacy in Ireland
consists of twenty-six bishops and the warden of Galway, a dignitary
enjoying Catholic jurisdiction. The number of Roman Catholic priests in
Ireland exceeds one thousand. The expenses of his peculiar worship are,
to a substantial farmer or mechanic, five shillings per annum; to a
labourer (where he is not entirely excused) one shilling per annum; this
includes the contribution of the whole family, and for this the priest is
bound to attend them when sick, and to confess them when they apply to
him; he is also to keep his chapel in order, to celebrate divine service,
and to preach on Sundays and holydays.
In the northern district a priest gains from £30 to £50; in the other
parts of Ireland from £60 to £90 per annum. The best paid Catholic
bishops receive about £400 per annum; the others from £300 to £350. My
plan is very simple: I would have 300 Catholic parishes at £100 per
annum, 300 at £200 per annum, and 400 at £300 per annum; this, for the
whole thousand parishes, would amount to £190,000. To the prelacy I
would allot £20,000 in unequal proportions, from £1,000 to £500; and I
would appropriate £40,000 more for the support of Catholic schools, and
the repairs of Catholic churches; the whole amount of which sum is
£250,000, about the expense of three days of one of our genuine, good
English _just and necessary wars_. The clergy should all receive their
salaries at the Bank of Ireland, and I would place the whole patronage in
the hands of the Crown. Now, I appeal to any human being, except Spencer
Perceval, Esq., of the parish of Hampstead, what the disaffection of a
clergy would amount to, gaping after this graduated bounty of the Crown,
and whether Ignatius Loyala himself, if he were a living blockhead
instead of a dead saint, could withstand the temptation of bouncing from
£100 a year at Sligo, to £300 in Tipperary? This is the miserable sum of
money for which the merchants and landowners and nobility of England are
exposing themselves to the tremendous peril of losing Ireland. The
sinecure places of the Roses and the Percevals, and the “dear and near
relations,” put up to auction at thirty years’ purchase, would almost
amount to the money.
I admit that nothing can be more reasonable than to expect that a
Catholic priest should starve to death, genteelly and pleasantly, for the
good of the Protestant religion; but is it equally reasonable to expect
that he should do so for the Protestant pews, and Protestant brick and
mortar? On an Irish Sabbath, the bell of a neat parish church often
summons to church only the parson and an occasionally conforming clerk;
while, two hundred yards off, a thousand Catholics are huddled together
in a miserable hovel, and pelted by all the storms of heaven. Can
anything be more distressing than to see a venerable man pouring forth
sublime truths in tattered breeches, and depending for his food upon the
little offal he gets from his parishioners? I venerate a human being who
starves for his principles, let them be what they may; but starving for
anything is not at all to the taste of the honourable flagellants: strict
principles, and good pay, is the motto of Mr. Perceval: the one he keeps
in great measure for the faults of his enemies, the other for himself.
There are parishes in Connaught in which a Protestant was never settled
nor even seen. In that province in Munster, and in parts of Leinster,
the entire peasantry for sixty miles are Catholics; in these tracts the
churches are frequently shut for want of a congregation, or opened to an
assemblage of from six to twenty persons. Of what Protestants there are
in Ireland, the greatest part are gathered together in Ulster, or they
live in towns. In the country of the other three provinces the Catholics
see no other religion but their own, and are at the least as fifteen to
one Protestant. In the diocese of Tuam they are sixty to one; in the
parish of St. Mulins, diocese of Leghlin, there are four thousand
Catholics and one Protestant; in the town of Grasgenamana, in the county
of Kilkenny, there are between four and five hundred Catholic houses, and
three Protestant houses. In the parish of Allen, county Kildare, there
is no Protestant, though it is very populous. In the parish of Arlesin,
Queen’s County, the proportion is one hundred to one. In the whole
county of Kilkenny, by actual enumeration, it is seventeen to one; in the
diocese of Kilmacduagh, province of Connaught, fifty-two to one, by
ditto. These I give you as a few specimens of the present state of
Ireland; and yet there are men impudent and ignorant enough to contend
that such evils require no remedy, and that mild family man who dwelleth
in Hampstead can find none but the cautery and the knife.
—“Omne per ignem
Excoquitur vitium.”
I cannot describe the horror and disgust which I felt at hearing Mr.
Perceval call upon the then Ministry for measures of vigour in Ireland.
If I lived at Hampstead upon stewed meats and claret; if I walked to
church every Sunday before eleven young gentlemen of my own begetting,
with their faces washed, and their hair pleasingly combed; if the
Almighty had blessed me with every earthly comfort—how awfully would I
pause before I sent forth the flame and the sword over the cabins of the
poor, brave, generous, open-hearted peasants of Ireland! How easy it is
to shed human blood; how easy it is to persuade ourselves that it is our
duty to do so, and that the decision has cost us a severe struggle; how
much in all ages have wounds and shrieks and tears been the cheap and
vulgar resources of the rulers of mankind; how difficult and how noble it
is to govern in kindness and to found an empire upon the everlasting
basis of justice and affection! But what do men call vigour? To let
loose hussars and to bring up artillery, to govern with lighted matches,
and to cut, and push, and prime; I call this not vigour, but the _sloth
of cruelty and ignorance_. The vigour I love consists in finding out
wherein subjects are aggrieved, in relieving them, in studying the temper
and genius of a people, in consulting their prejudices, in selecting
proper persons to lead and manage them, in the laborious, watchful, and
difficult task of increasing public happiness by allaying each particular
discontent. In this way Hoche pacified La Vendée—and in this way only
will Ireland ever be subdued. But this, in the eyes of Mr. Perceval, is
imbecility and meanness. Houses are not broken open, women are not
insulted, the people seem all to be happy; they are not rode over by
horses, and cut by whips. Do you call this vigour? Is this government?