IRELAND again receives its full share of the attention of Parliament, and we are exceedingly glad of it. There is perhaps little to please, and much to offend us, in the measures and motions which respect the sister kingdom; but they, nevertheless, keep the eyes and hearts of the people of England directed towards her, and we regard this as an advantage of very great importance. After what has been already written and said, any detailed discussion of Irish affairs is out of the question; but there are several portions of them, which may be very profitably dwelt upon in the present state of public feeling. On some of these, we will briefly touch, without any regard to order and connection, and without being at all ambitious of displaying originality. If we think fit to repeat, what has been said a thousand times already, we shall not scruple to do it, justified as we shall be, by the maxim of the ancient,-" That can never be said too often, which can never be said often enough."

It is the curse of Ireland that its name calls into operation almost every species of party feeling. Great state questions, in general, only bring into collision the affections and antipathies of the Whig and the Tory, and this is often enough quite sufficient to render what is true, wise, and expedient, perfectly invisible; but the state of this unhappy country can never be discussed, without involving, in fierce conflict, the Protestants and the Catholics-the enemies of the Established Church, and its friends-the supporters of what is called Catholic Emancipation, and its opponents and we know not how many other hostile bodies, as well as the two great political parties of the empire. The consequences, alas! are, that in the discussion, the first object is to gain a triumph for certain men, to establish certain abstract doctrines, or to destroy, or defend, certain general laws and institutions, and the termination of Ireland's miseries and atrocities is the last. Public wisdom is seduced to leave the real evils of Ireland and their remedies unthought of, that it may occupy itself with the fictitious ones which passion, prejudice, and interest lay before it.

We can only account by this, for

the extraordinary fact, that one system of discussion is followed with regard to England, and a directly opposite one with respect to the sister country. Here, we keep the leading interests and classes distinct-there, we jumble them all into a whole. If distress and disorder prevail in England, we ask where they prevail; we ascertain whether it is the agricultural, the manufacturing, or the commercial class, that is suffering; we go to the cause at once, and shape our remedy according to its suggestions: but if a single class in Ireland be distressed and guilty, we instantly assume that the nation at large is so, and, instead of applying practical remedies to partial evils, we resort to theory in all haste, to legislate for the whole population. Ireland is almost invariably spoken of as though the whole people were wretched and criminal; and almost every measure is declaimed against as useless, that is not calculated to bear upon every class alike. We shall in this article act differently. We fight not for office—we have no Catholic bill to carry-we seek not to overthrow, or plunder, the Established Church-and we have no system of conciliation to uphold and eulogize; we are therefore at liberty to speak the words of truth and common sense, and to look at Ireland as we would look at England.

In the first place, then, which of the various classes of the people of Ireland needs relief and reformation ? The peasantry alone. The manufacturing and trading classes,-the inhabitants of cities and towns, are wellprincipled and peaceable; and they are in a state of competence, and even prosperity. The small land occupiers and the husbandry labourers, are the only portion of the Irish people whose sufferings and crimes call for the interference of Parliament.

Having thus distinctly placed before us that part of the population of Ireland whose condition and conduct alone demand consideration, we must now inquire into the nature of this condition and conduct, in order that we may be enabled to suggest the proper remedies. We shall, throughout, only reason upon those facts which are notorious, and which are admitted by all parties; and one of those facts

is, the peasantry of Ireland are in a state of deplorable penury-are scarcely half employed are barbarous, depraved, disaffected, and rebelliousand are composed almost exclusively of blind, fanatical Catholics.

With regard to the penury of the Irish peasantry, it is not accidental, it has not been produced by fluctuations of prices, although these have no doubt greatly aggravated it. It existed before high prices were known, it continued when they were obtained, and it remains when they can be obtained no longer-and, amidst all its fluctuations, it never can rise even to poverty. Now, what causes this penury with regard to the occupiers of land? Oppressive taxes? No! There are scarcely any taxes demanded. Bad soil? No, the soil is very fertile. The expense of cultivation ? No, this is extremely low. The want of a market? No, Ireland possesses a far better market for agricultural produce, than most parts of the continent. Are the people of expensive habits? No, they are remarkable for being almost less so than any other people. Here, then, is an agricultural population, distressed in the utmost degree, in the midst of all the legitimate sources of agricultural wealth! The solution of this extraordinary problem is not difficult. Does not the occupier raise a large surplus beyond his necessary expenditure? Yes. What becomes of it? The whole, save a small fraction, goes into the pockets of the landlord. Would not the retention of a portion of this surplus proportionably increase the income, in the popular sense of the word, of the occupier; and is not the want of adequate income the cause of penury in Ireland, as well as else where? Undoubtedly. When nearly all that is demanded of the occupier is demanded by the landlord, is not his penury owing to the landlord, if that be demanded which leaves him only potatoes for food, and rags for clothing? Certainly, if cause and effect continue to be what they were formerly.

Nothing has appeared more wonderful to the disinterested, than the silence which has been observed respecting rents, during the discussion of the affairs of Ireland. The tithes have been declaimed against without ceasing, not merely as the cause of disaffection, but as the cause of want:

the pecuniary inability of the Irish to pay them, has been insisted on, until scarcely any one, save an Irish clergyman, has dared to deny it; but it seems to have been taken for granted that rents could not be exorbitant. The tithes are not a tax-they are not an addition to, but in effect a small fractional part of, the rent-they vary in value with the variations in the price of produce; and they cannot in law exceed, and they do not in fact reach, what the land can easily pay. Yet it was the tithes that chiefly ruined the Irish occupier! The same course was pursued with regard to the taxes, during the late agricultural distress of this country. It was the taxes-principally the taxes- that ruined the English farmer. Our landholders maintained this, might and main, in Parliament; but what did they do then? In that princely, real English spirit which distinguishes them, they instantly set to work to ascertain what their tenants could pay, and they struck off fifteen, twenty, thirty, or forty per cent of rent immediately. They did not demand what the law made their own, and they did not even take what had been raised for them by debt and privation. They remitted what was due, and they returned what was given. The taxes remained to the occupier very nearly the same, and the markets did not, for a considerable time afterwards, advance, yet the complaints of the farmers in a great measure ceased. In Ireland, matters were different: Many of the landholders, no doubt, did reduce their rents, but then the reduction was scarcely felt by those whose need was the greatest. The English landholder is the sole landlord of all the occupiers of his land, and he lowered the rents of all, according to their necessities. The Irish landholder is the landlord of only a portion of those who till his estate, and whatever he might reduce to these, the sub-tenant had no hope of procuring anything beyond his potatoe. Rents in Ireland, taking the difference of markets and other circumstances into consideration, are very far above what they are in England; they are such as an English farmer could not possibly pay, and still we are not to think that exorbitant rents have the chief hand, or any hand at all, in distressing the Irish occupiers! This is the case, even in the nineteenth cen

tury! As an experiment, let the rents of a single parish in Ireland be reduced to the fair level of English rents, and Parliament will speedily discover what would bestow on the Irish peasantry comparative competence.

Until rents are thus lowered, the Irish peasantry must, without the operation of any other cause, be in a state of penury; and so long as the middlemen exist, the rents will remain as excessive as they now are. He who takes land to re-let it for profit, is exactly like him who buys goods to re-sell them for profit; he expects not merely a certain per centage, but the very utmost farthing that can be obtained. He has the sub-tenant constantly under his eye, he sees his crops, he knows exactly what he gets for his produce, and he takes care to keep him screwed up to the last penny that can be extracted. The writer of this article has seen much of the rustic population of England, and in every instance that has come within his knowledge of a cottage and ground being included in the take of, and re-let by a farmer, the rent was invariably from twenty to forty per cent higher, than that of similar cottages rented from the same landholder, but let directly by himself. While it is thus the constant and only aim of the jobber to extract the very utmost farthing, all things conspire to throw it into his hands. The land is divided into such small portions, that it can be entered upon almost without capital; and from this, and the density of the population, competitors are innumerable. The baleful influence of the jobbers is felt by the whole of the occupiers. They make letting by competition, that is, by virtual auction, to be the common mode of letting; and extravagantly high rents, to be the only ones known. They establish a system which the smaller proprietors are glad to follow, which the larger ones are almost pushed into, and which therefore extends over the whole of the land. Those therefore who do not take their land of the jobbers, have their rents governed in effect by those which the jobbers exact. During the war, competition rose to an amazing height among our English farmers; and had the land been in the hands of jobbers, they would, we firmly believe, even then have been distressed. We knew at that time not

a few who rented good-sized farms of proprietors, who, jobber-like, always insisted upon the highest penny. The tenants naturally, although most frugal and industrious men, and although produce. was so extravagantly high, were, to use the farmers' expression, always “overset;” the day of payment constantly arrived before the sum was provided, and at the very first fall of prices, they sunk into ruin. We believe that half the worth of the mass of the English landholders, and half the national benefits that flow from them, are unknown to the country. Interest, which is omnipotent with all other classes, was powerless with them; they would not tolerate competition, although it offered to double their incomes. We could name some of them who spurned farmers from their presence, who sought them, to offer thirty or forty per cent of rent more for their land, than their tenants were paying, and who did not raise their rents at all in consequence of the offer. It is true, they advanced their rents as produce advanced in price, but never in proportion. When leases expired, they would not hear of competition; and a moderate advance was made upon the old rent to the old tenant, which still left him in plentiful circumstances. If they accidentally wanted a new tenant, surrounded as they were by competitors, the farm was almost always procured through interest, or character, and at a much lower rent than might have been `obtained for it, if it had been let to the highest bidder. We speak of course of the great body, and willingly admit that exceptions were numerous, particularly among the smaller proprietors. The English occupiers would then have ruined themselves by competition, but for the prohibition of their landlords, and they would even do it at this moment, if not prevented by the same cause. But Ireland!-poor Ireland-has not such landlords; the poor Irish occupier must have no land to till, and nothing to eat, if he will not agree to pay the utmost penny for the soil, that human effort and privation can extract from it.

More yet remains ;—The English landlord prides himself on having a respectable tenantry, and on having his land well cultivated. If a tenant be slovenly, or idle, he is reprimanded and shamed into reformation; if he

be of bad character, he is discharged. This is not confined to the larger occupiers, but it extends to the cottagers. The character and conduct of a man cannot be concealed in a village, as in a town; and if the landlord be but little on his estate himself, his steward is frequently there, and it is an important part of the steward's duty to keep himself well acquainted with the character and conduct of the tenants. With regard to the system of culture, this is in general expressly laid down by the landlord in the lease, or agreement. We hold it to be an undeniable truth, that THE LANDHOLDERS OF AL

MOST ANY COUNTRY MAY HAVE WHAT KIND OF A POPULATION THEY PLEASE

the landholders, that he ought to have said jobbers; but be this as it may, it is unquestionable, that those who could be blind and base enough to do this, would equally encourage resistance to the payment of tithes, taxes, and everything else, save exorbitant rents. The jobber must naturally nurse the rage against tithes and all other payments, save that due to himself-he must naturally connive at guilt, which enables him to receive, or to increase, his rent-and his influence, the only influence, save that of the Catholic priest, which is felt by the occupier, must naturally be exercised to distress, degrade, and brutalize the occupier. In England, know

A MORAL AND ORDERLY, OR A DEPRAVED AND TURBULENT, ONE-UP

ON THEIR ESTATES; and the English landholders, by their princely and wise conduct, have provided themselves with one of the best kind. Their tenants are not only respectable and even wealthy, but they are intelligent, active, and industrious, and they are the most moral and upright class in the community. No class in the state can vie with them, for warmth of heart and purity of life-for hospitality and benevolence-for scorn of petty chicanery and fraud-for confidence in, and brotherly kindness to each other-in a word, for all the sterling old English feelings and virtues. We testify to what we have seen. We have known them-we have known the inhabitants of towns and cities too -we have seen not a little of those who rank very far above them in society, and we are proud to offer our humble tribute to their superiority. These farmers stand at the head of village society, and they have nearly all the rest of it under their control; we therefore need not trace the cha racter of their labourers. Now, what is the case, in this respect, in Ireland? The jobber feels no interest in the character of his tenant and his mode of cultivation, beyond what is inspired by solicitude for the rent. Many cases may be supposed, in which he would perhaps prompt, or at any rate connive at, and conceal, his tenant's crimes. If we mistake not, Sir John Newport stated last session in Parliament, that, in some parts of Ireland, the landlords encouraged illicit distillation. We hope, for the honour of

through the medium of the farmer upon the plough-boy; in Ireland, the jobbers form a chasm, which prevents the peasantry from learning anything from their betters that they ought to learn. The effects harmonize exactly with the laws of nature. While the estates of the English landholders are peopled with such inhabitants as we have described, those of the Irish landholders are peopled with savages, beggars, rebels, rogues, and murderers.

We are well aware that the Englishman and Irishman are extremely different in personal disposition, and that this difference is altogether in favour of the Englishman; but, allowing for this, we are very certain that the Irish system would produce the same fruits in England, and that the English system would produce, in a very great degree, the same fruits in Ireland.

We ought perhaps to mention the Poor Laws, as one of the causes of English superiority, so far as respects husbandry labourers. These laws, by keeping this part of the people under surveillance and control, when without masters, and by preserving them from incitement to theft, the degradation of begging, and the baleful effects which either successful or unsuccessful begging is sure to produce, are invaluable. We know what has been said against these laws-we defend not their abuses and defects-but we will say, Woe to England when they shall be abolished, even though English labourers be previously taught to exchange beef and bacon for the potatoe only!

One effect which exorbitantly high