Killmallock and Limerick, Sept. 1 and 2, 1817.

My Dear L.

This morning, pretty early, we left Donneraile and its towering woods, the lovely Mulla, and the rural paradise which surrounds Lord Donneraile! We departed with very many pleasing impressions, and the hearty wish that its noble guardian may long preside over it. But the weather, like life, was cloudy and uncertain, and before we reached Kilcolman, the rain descended, and the wind beat upon that mournful and venerated ruin. We were glad to shelter there, and again [302] to pause and ruminate in the abode of Edmund Spencer. The kitchen, arched with stone, completely secured us from wet, till, as the storm abated, we again ascended the silent tower, where the harp of the divine poet no more resounded, and the mantling, ivy everywhere obtruded itself. We surveyed the spot more curiously than time permitted before, searched with anxious eyes where the gardens and orchards had been, and considered it probable that Sir Walter Raleigh, who introduced the potatoe-plant and cherry-tree into Munster, may have had his first experiments of them made here. At last, the thought of such men as Raleigh and Spencer applying their attention to agricultural improvements at Kilcolman, was pleasing. But the rain returning, and no hope of a clear day appearing, we adjourned our deliberations to the neighbouring cottages, where Irish was almost entirely their language. The name and occupation of Spencer is handed down traditionally among them; but they seem to entertain no sentiments of respect or affection for his memory; the bard came in rather ungracious times, and the keen recollections of this untutored people are wonderful!

A lad from one of these poor habitations shewed us a short way through the lands of Kilcolman to the main road; as it rained and blew, he skipped on gaily before us, without either stockings or shoes, and with very indifferent garments. Neither [303] wet nor cold incommoded him; and though, perhaps, he was yet without breakfast, his cheerfulness was nothing impaired. Such, in fact, is the real national character, when it is unbroken by misfortunate, or unsoured by oppression. In Munster, as in Leinster, we find these engaging traits. It is somewhat surprising; that Spencer appears not to have appreciated their good qualities as they merited; but he spoke not their language, and came to their country full of prejudice against them.

We crossed the Ballybowra mountains, and had an amazing fine view of the adjacent country from them. Poor mud-cottages, were scattered along the road-sides, and we learned, with heartfelt sorrow, that fever was spreading everywhere among them. When this infectious malady enters his cottage, the Irish peasant and family are the most wretched of human beings! Unable to procure medical, or any other aid — provided with no matters useful for the sick — , and becoming objects of terror in the midst of their poor and uninfected neighbours, they sicken, linger, and die in their habitations!

With kind attention, we were warned on our way to Charleville, against entering several cottages, whether for shelter or a draught of water. The idea of a great population oppressed by famine, fever, high rents, and other imposts, stood in tremendous horror before us. However [304] painful the lesson, (said we) it must be instructive, and good may come of it. Under this aspect we shall see the body of the people, and discern how vainly men boast of vast numbers in a state, whose aggregate of misery renders them now weak and helpless; and how awfully responsible are governments for allowing centuries to pass over without remedying their condition!

Descending the Ballyhowra mountains, we, in some time, entered the county of Limerick, whose fertile and level land spread widely round us, and arrived at Charleville, a tolerable town, but of a bare appearance, and similar to most Irish ones.

Resting in a public-house, we fell into conversation with some farmers; an intelligent one informed us the rents were still called for at the war-rate; but added,“it grew daily more difficult to pay them.” His reasoning was acute, and powerful. “The gentry,” said he, ''can now live for a great deal less; and, having made great profit by land in war, must now be content with less. Half the war-rents, well paid, will be more desirable for them, than to be striving to keep up their rent-roll at an exorbitant rate, and destroying the country. Distraining, and auctions, may proceed some time, but cannot gain their point for them. One tenant will run away; another will succeed, but cannot pay, and must also go, and so on! [305] The jail, or the road, is before ourselves and families!” He informed us, that land, in general, rose to five, six, and seven pounds the acre, at the close of the war; and that potatoe-ground was let for ten, eleven, and twelve guineas the acre to cottagers; and, disgraceful as it may appear, these poor creatures are not allowed to dig them till the demands of the rich farmers are fully satisfied. Thus, labourers may starve at work, and families at home be perishing, under this dreadful land-system, exacting the rent from the farmer, and compelling him to extort from the cottage before the humble meal can be procured, which, at best, is barely sufficient to support existence!

These cottagers have no cow, no garden, no fowl — they literally exist on the road-side, and the scanty price of labour (sixpence, or tenpence per day) is all they have! All this system of wretchedness existing, where the land is exuberantly fertile, and scarcely requires manure, gives great room for reflection! There is no government but must perceive that it is wearisome to legislate for despair; and to controul, within sober bounds, men whose heart-strings are racked and broken by never-ending misery!

Were the most improbable of all events to place me, my dear L., in the situation now so ably filled by the Secretary for Ireland, I thmk the cries of thousands, yea, millions of impover

[ Pp.306-07 are missing in the copy at Internet Archive. ]

[308] of Henry’s wisdom was in a moment lost; and the queen of a party ceased to be the monarch of her subjects! She created rebellions and invasions against herself, and died while a fortyyears' expensive war was unextinguished in this country.

Such reflections recur unavoidably in passing through Munster, as we do, for the first time and in our manner, studying nature and the page of history with the same glance!

May no Continental war ever again find Ireland unsettled, and unredressed! May no foreign invaders ever again be able to found hopes of distracting, or dismembering this glorious empire, on the misery of its inhabitants!

By a masterly strain of politics, Elizabeth might have secured the affections of the Irish, and defied all the machinations of Spain. Her subjects here would have been Catholics, but not Papists; and their loyalty to their religion been a pledge of fidelity to the crown.

It appears, that before Lord Sussex returned to Ireland, the queen hesitated on the part she should take in this island on the out-set of her government: perhaps she felt too weak to follow the dictates of her own great and unbiassed mind; — a young and accomplished female — she could scarcely be expected to venture to oppose the gravity of experienced Lords, or the greedy narrowness of powerful party — with a reluctant [309] and, perhaps, cast the die, which, for a century and a half, drenched this fair island in blood.

Sussex came back, but the councils of a St. Leger no longer moderated and calmed the scene. The government and the population were set at issue against one another. A fearful war to wage! and difficult, indeed, to end, if persecuted religion, with eyes upraised to Heaven, scowls through the storm!

These distressing, l)ut far from useless reflections, brought us to the gates of Kilmallock. — Gates, you exclaim — is it thus you speak of a petty village in Limerick? Even so. As the pleasant and grateful evening-sun dwelt on its ruined walls and castles, we entered, through an arched gateway, crowned by a very picturesque tower, this singular old city. We found a tolerably small inn, and, after dinner, explored the ruins of Kilmallock. The main street appears to have been composed of castles, most of which remain. Regular transverse streets, with gates and towers, in different directions, formed the plan of the city, and its walls were guarded by small towers at intervals. We saw a fragment of the wall, in one part, with one of these towers very beautiful, and very perfect. The castle and gateway, on the entrance from Limerick, still makes a grand appearance. This extraordinary place, before the introduction of cannon, [310] must have beeu very strong. They tell here of Cromwell taking it; and have an anecdote, that on his enquiring the name of each person’s house, in order to spare those of English origin, he was told at the first“Meade” at the second“Meade” and the same at the thirds and so on. —“Meade, Meade” said Cromwell, suspecting imposition — “burn them, all!” The impression of this ferocious republican’s cruelty is quite recent in Ireland, as it were of yesterday; but it has inspired horror and hatred united — nothing of fear. Such is truly the Irish character, as to all military exploits er violences committed against them. They analyse the matter with a contemptuous coolness, and wonderful sagacity; and, in this way, the military genius of this surprizing people is often seen breaking forth in the lowest classes.

The Englishman talks of politics, agriculture, or the sports of the country, with pleasure and calm good sense j but war is the darling theme of the Irishman — the difficulties of a siege, a daring surprize, rapid expeditions through the country, and all the varieties of a campaign he relishes, understands, and shews he could well bear his part in them, if opportunity occurred.

If I were to venture predictions for future time, I should say, that were the British empire to fall, through mismanagement at home, the military re-action of this extraordinary people will be the principal cause of its dissolution. The [311] Irishman has no objection to minngle amorous remarks i his conversations with this display of military talent. Take him thus, and you have this animated being, whether he runs along the river-side, or rapidly descends his own verdant mountains with you, pourtrayed before your eyes.

The evening closed on us before we had half seen Kilmallock, and we were glad to repose. Scarcely had the tender rays of an autumnal sun east their light on the castles and ruins of Kihnallock, when I arose, and, as their long shadows marked the earth, was soon in the midst of them. the abbey churcfa and the monastery, on the respective sides of the small stream which runs past Kilmalldck, are extremely beautiful and venerable ruins. The pure gothic is here beautifully displayed in the finest windows, arches, and door-ways — in the long and stately aisles, the towers, and roofing of these interesting buildings. They are quite outside the walls of Kilmallock, and must once have contained ^eat numbers of religious men. Vestiges of their gardens and orchards are remembered here, but are not now seen. A long regular road to the monastery is obvious still. A very intelligent inhabitant of Kilmallock conducted me through the ruins of these once very grand religious establishments. Numerous ancient tombs are found which interest much, but as I have declined long ago the office of antiquarian, I must [312] refer you to books, or to your own inspection for particulars of them. One, called the tomb of the White Knight, arrested my attention peculiarly, as he was one of the Geraldines of Munster, who resided near this. The rude magnificence of these chieftains yet dazzles the people. They tell of many marvellous things relating to the “White Knight” at Kilmallock, and seem proud of his power and rude exploits. My guide shewed me the spot where his castle stood, on the river-side, a small distance from Kilmallock. Huge fragments of it have fallen into the water, and remain cemented together, intercepting, in some parts, the stream, and resembling masses of natural rock.

The rude conflicts of chieftains invading, and invaded, undoubtedly gave great scope for the exercise of personal valour, but must have been miserably injurious to agriculture, to all the peaceful arts of life in Ireland, and to the wholesome operations of one supreme government.

The “White Knight,” whose tomb we had just surveyed, is said to have excelled in bodily strength and valour, but to have been cruel and vindictive in the extreme. He held a sort of court, where his prisoners were condemned, and soon afterwards executed, without mercy or discrimination. Burning and sudden slaughter were his preludes to negociation; and plunder, prisoners, or unjust extent of territory, his sole objects. [313] He reigned a gloomy tyrant in these territories, and was killed in a desperate engagement at some distance from this, in crossing a river, and by his own soldiers, at his command, lest he might be made prisoner by his foes!

Here we find, in Munster, the disastrous consequences of Henry the Second’s large grants of land exemplified at Kilmallock; and a lord of English race vieing with, and exceeding. Irish chieftains in petty despotism and savage conduct.

On returning to our inn to breakfast, I wished again to behold the ruined monastery, and the tomb of this too-fatally renowned White Knight In one part of the ruins, where a fine arched side-aisle was still very perfect, and its stone-roof kept off the rain, my guide shewed some terror, I soon learned from him the cause. A person ill of fever had been left there the day before, lest he should communicate the infection to the family where he lodged. He was left to expire!!! His hollow voice plaintively implored some drink. I assured him he should have it, and be taken care of, and hope revived at the moment life was ebbing fast away. In another part of this monastery I saw a hat of a departed victim of fever exposed some time ago, and at our inn I heard the following story: — An American gentleman, totally a stranger, well clad, and of pleasing appearance, came a few months ago to Kilmallock. He went to no inn, but wandered about the [314] ruins, till, at last, entering them, he was observed no more, and, perhaps, forgotten! He was ill, and fever burned in his veins; but where can the pennyless and forlorn wanderer turn in a country where he is without friends or money? It happened a gentleman was ill at the inn, and required the attendance of a person to set up every night. The inn-keeper’s son performed this humane office frequently; and very early one mornings as the stars were fading at the approach of twilight, he walked out to the monastery to refresh himself with the morning air. He heard a murmuring noise, as of some human being. It was two or three days after the American gentleman’s disappearance! He recollected this, and advanced — but, can I go on! — Extended on his back, in a recess of a ruined ailse, the unfortunate stranger lay speechless, expiring! — one hand clenched the mouldering wall; the other his hat. The young man, terrified and shocked, ran for assistance. On his return, this victim of misfortune was no more! Fever had arrested his steps, and, as there was neither hospital nor dispensary at Kilmallock, which, belonging to numerous proprietors, can have no peculiar presiding landlord, he perished in the dreadful manner I have related*

In case of contagious fever, or plague, such as now afflicts Ireland, I think, my dear L., a board of health in every province, to which reports [315] could be made, ought to be appointed on the first symptoms of disease, and be enabled the government to establish temporary fever-hospitals in every parish and town. It is surprizing that, in a country where so great and so poor a population exists, this has not been done long ago. Boards of various kinds have been formed in different departments, and surely none is of superior consequence to that of the public health! Each county having a minor board to communicate with the provincial one, deriving its authority and means from government; and reporting to a superior board in the metropolis, a simultaneous check might be given to fever on its first appearance, and many valuable lives be secured and saved!* What carries on agriculture, commerce, manufacture, fisheries? — What fills army and navy? — What pays rent? — What yields revenue? — What supports every profession, and is the true and living wealth of nations — but population? And if the great body of it be attacked by infectious malady, suddenly slackening its sinews, and suspending the labours of society, what care so interesting, so noble, and so superceding every other for a government as that of the public health? Shall public works

*Since this was written, a bill to this effect, but with some rather severe and unconstitutional provisions, has been enacted for Ireland. I doubt its success.

[316] be devised, and money appropriated to employ men, many of whom may languish under fever, and may spread it amongst the healthy? Shall the feeble palliative of private subscription, from an exhausted community, be permitted to stand in place of a large grant from the legislation, called together for the occasion, if required.

We know how fever rages in Cork; we have seen and met it on the roads and in villages, and we hear that, in Limerick, it greatly prevails. I believe none of the provinces are exempt from this plague; but no grand measure has been devised. We shall be doomed, I apprehend, in this our greatest pedestriaji tour, to behold the vast population of a large portion of this island writhing under a new torture, and arrived at the utmost acmé of human misery!

Before we left Kilmallock we visited .Achill, near it, a handsome place, and were received with the^most pleasing hospitality by its owner, Mr. Evans. He shewed much humanity respecting the poor being ill in the ruins; and is one of those impartial and spirited magistrates who would do much good in the country, if well seconded. I am notable, having no books with us, to state when Kilmallock was built. It is of great antiquity, however, and is a small corporation, having a court and jurisdiction around it for some miles. By some of the Lord Deputies it was used as a garrison, and Sir William Drury [317] issued orders from thence in Elizabeth’s reign. A remarkable incident, which occurred in Killmallock several years after the death and forfeiture of estates of the late Earl of Desmond, shews the Irish character in a striking point of view. The young Desmond, son of that unfortunate chieftain, had been sent over to England, by the Irish government, to be educated under the eye of the Queen, and in the reformed religion.

After some years she thought fit that be should return to Munster, to try if the attachment of the people to his name and family might not be turned to beneficial purposes for the state. The young Lord James accordingly came to Kilmallock, once, doubtless, a strong seat of the power of the Desmonds. A universal sensation pervaded the country on the news of his arrivaL Multitudes flocked to and crowded Kilmallock, to feast their eyes with the sight of their lost, and lamented young lord. They could not satiate themselves with beholding the beloved youth. Again and again they returned to hail his return and bless his presence! Never was Irish sensibility more strongly excited, or expressed. At length Sunday arrived, and young Desmond prepared and set forth to attend the worship of the reformed church. He was mild and unassuming, and ill-fitted to meet the torrent which assailed him. Groans, tears, and intreaties, were poured forth to prevent his proceeding. [318] Females caught his hands, kissed them, and, with affecting lamentation, prayed him to forbear. he men frowned and threatened. The crowd increased — groans, hisses, and execrations began to be poured forth. Desmond, unaltered, went on and entered the church. In a few moments all was silence. The multitude instantly dispersed. On the young lord’s return, not a single being stayed to bid — ''God bless him.''

We have an historical account of the Roman Emperor Augustus educating a prince of the Parthians, named Tonones, on a similar plan of policy. It proved in the reign of Tiberius equally unsuccessful.

Thus was the queen taught the extreme futility of her plans to overthrow, in a few hours, what had been implanted a thousand years in the human breast, in Ireland; and which, unless it yields to conviction, cannot be put down by power, the sword, or artifice. There, man takes his last stand against tyranny — there, even on the threshold of another life, he devotes himself calmly to the worst fate which may await; and vindicates, in his last breath, the right of man to liberty of conscience!

We left Kilmallock in the middle of the day, and, on a a rising ground above the town, on the Limerick road, had a very fine view of this truly venerable spot. Its many castles, towers, and ruined walls, its monastery and abbey, the frag-[319]ments of the White Knight’s castle, the hun^le cottages, and the not-far distant groves of Ashfield; the charming stream which passes between the religious buildings, and the pleasantly undulating and still verdant fields round Kilmallock, with a far-extended view of Bailyhowra and other mountains, altogether afforded us a scene of ruined magnificence and beauty, far surpassing all the expectations we had entertained! We were informed, however, that Kilmallock has, within these last forty or fifty years, suffered greatly from many dilapidating hands, and that some of the most curious of the old castles, and parts of the walls, had been entirely removed.

It is truly melancholy that in Ireland there is not more general respect for her ruins. Are they not a guide to history, and an affecting memorial of the past? In their reverence for ruins, and particularly for jeligious ones, I fully join with the lower Irish. It bespeaks a just feeling for antiquity, and does them great honour. They assist the memory, and call forth those contemplative ideas which are always salutary. Looking down on this ancient city of Kilmallock, we think we see the ancient glory of Ireland revived, and the proud days of Munster restored, when the kings she produced, who were truly great men, reigned. You are aware that this province, including the adjoining southern and western parts, was called, at one period, Leath Mogha, [330] and divided the sovereignty with the northern, called then Leath Conn. Learning long flourished in it, and frequently adorned the throne itself. Arms and arts were successfully cultivated, and the south appears to have enjoyed tranquillity, and learned leisure, when other parts of the island were convulsed by struggles for power. Then the melodious strains of the harp resounded through her green vales, or were heard in the venerable piles where the Deity was worshipped. Who has not heard of the war-like tribe of the Dalgais — the heroes of South Munster? — of Cormack, a king distinguished by wisdom, learning, and piety? — or, of Brian Boromy, who merited and gained the monarchy of Ireland? who almost freed her from the Danes; but who could not conquer her internal feuds, or leave behind him a permanent constitution for the state. In such times, poetry flourished in the south, then addicted to a pastoral life so favourable to it; and the harp softened and refined the manners by its various lays! but, in truth, its strains of joy have been too long silent in this fair country, and every friend to human nature must anxiously wish more pleasing times revived. Pursuing our way to Limerick, I now close this letter, assuring you how truly I am, &c. &c.

My Dear L.

We arrived in this renowned city, yesterday, fatigued. We devote this day to rest, and in so favourable a moment of leisure I purpose continuing to describe our walk from Kilmallock. We observed nothing remarkable in the agriculture of this part of Munster as we passed along; the soil is very rich, but the fanners want skill and capital to make it sufficiently productive. The want of green crops is almost universal; but I am sorry to say that the extreme poverty of the people partly occasions this. Turnips, cabbages, . beans, peas, &c. &c. would not be allowed to remain in the fields very long. They would dis appear at night by the hands of the cottage-paupers of this unhappy country; so that, in every point of view, it is vain to expect agriculture to thrive, where there is so much misery. This the gentry of Ireland feel very much; they find their green crops, as soon as esculent, carried away, their woods and hedges broken and removed, and their sheep too frequently stolen.

Without palliating dishonesty one cannot avoid remarking, that the residence of the wealthy landholder, amidst a great and starving population, [322] must ever be attended with the unpleasant concomitants of the loss of agricultural produce, the prevention of improvement, or the painful necessity of prosecuting and punishing the starving wretches whom continued and irretrievable distress may have formed into rogues!

Flax begins to be cultivated in Munster, but as yet makes small progress, though highly encouraged by the gentry. I apprehend that this province has never recovered the shock which the prohibition of its woollen trade, that unwise, selfish, and barbarous measure, in the reigns of Charles the First and William, gave lo Munster. There is no art in society which requires so much unlimited freedom as that of agriculture. The nature of the land points out its proper use and produce. But England has scarcely yet learned that the more generally flourishing this island becomes, the more she will produce revenue, deprecate the foreign ravager, and render expensive home-armies unnecessary. The policy of the imperious, and often ill-counselled elder brother, is not yet extinct; and the fine capacities which nature has given this island, and the astonishingly great intellectual qualities of its inhabitants, will be long, it is to be apprehended, dreaded, rather than, cherished and cultivated.

Our enquiries led us to examine, from the intelligent of all classes, if this country was now tranquil, and exempt from those nightly and [323] other disturbances which the public papers have of late so often announced to have disgraced it! With great regret we heard, that though the Insurrection-bill has been recently taken off, there is far from a hope of permanent tranquillity. There is one most shocking transaction in this county, which I cannot omit; — a few months ago, a young farmer, who had quarrelled with some fellows of his neighbourhood, was attacked by them in a field with scythes, and before any assistance arrived, he was literally hewed and cut to pieces! Nature recoils at the horrid recital!

Parties who went about last winter, at night, whether to impress terror oh any persons taking land contrary to their system, or for plunder, adopted the savage practice of firing through the doors and windows, and into the beds of the unhappy persons they attacked.

Though things look peaceable now, a very well, informed man told us, he thought that they would grow worse with the coming winter, and that the Insurrection-bill must again be imposed on parts of this country. You are not, perhaps, fully aware af the precise nature of this act of parliament, made for, and applied to Ireland only, of the whole empire. It erects, at the pleasure of any governor of Ireland, and a few privy-councillors, and in any part of that country, a tribunal of a King’s council, and bench of magistrates, who try the subject without aid of jury, and for new-formed [324] offences, not cognizable by, or known to the English laws. The venial circumstance of absence from home after sun-set, or before sunrise, makes any man in Ireland, where the provisions of this act are enforced, liable to transportation to Botany-bay for any term the tribunal just mentioned may decree, unless he gives what may be termed a satisfactory account of himself!

You will fully agree with me, my dear L., that the trial by jury is the most inestimable part of the British constitution; and, with its other benefits, was secured to the Irish by the charters of several English monarchs, and by that reciprocity of protection due for their allegiance and submission. As I differ from all English parties in regard to the justice and policy of applying such a law to Ireland, I cannot be accused of flattering any, if I say that I think it has none but injurious consequences in the end, and tends to alienate this country from Great-Britain more than most measures that could be devised. Lord Holland must recollect that I remonstrated with him against this fatal blow to expiring liberty in Ireland! It was originally a temporary war-expedient, to restrain insurrection; in my mind, the old treason-laws were sufficient.

We have no where discovered that disaffection, or inclination to foreign power, exists. Partial disorder in time of peace is therefore sought to [325] be remedied by the Bill, and the same preventive for apprehended overthrow of government, and the ebullition of private or parish feuds, is applied. The disturbances of predatory banditti, generated amongst an excessive and insufficiently employed population, cannot be rectified by any temporary measure. A deep-rooted disease cannot be conquered by attaching some external symptom! In trying times, there may be banditti formed in a state, of two classes — the ill-disposed taking advantage of public distress, and those rendered desperate by want of home, food, or employ. Surely the common law, and impartial vigilant magistrates, may reach the former, and it is hard to visit the latter with the severest measure of punishment. A system of terror has never yet been found to effect permanent good on the Irish character; and that established by this Bill is not only very expensive to the state, but alters the nature of the magistracy, making it inquisitorial instead of administrative — despotic instead of constitutional. How much scope does it give to passion, and prejudice, and private revenge! One great objection, of mine to it, is, that it imitates the measures of revolutionary France; a source from whence little good proceeded, when democratic tyranny began to engender violent laws, such as this. How many families are by it made enemies to the British government! What an addition [326] to mendicity must it not have created! How repugnant to the vivacity and freedom of the Irish character, and therefore impolitic as a law, embracing the inhabitants of whole baronies and counties, whether that a few be fond of the cheerful dance, or concerned in nightly impropriety! As the true object of every friend to the empire must be to unite Ireland harmoniously to Great-Britain, it is to be regretted that mistaken policy (doubtless from the best motives) introduces by such measures the most repellant principles.

Of Irish patriots who supported this measure, I can only say, that to this day their conduct fills me with astonishment and sorrow. It was said by some of them, that the Bill was necessary — as against a French party in Ireland. In all our walks, I have seen or heard of no such thing. The Bill is, in fact, rather calculated to make one that did not exist before. However, the horrible excesses too often and too generally committed in Ireland at present, it must be fully admitted, may well appal the legislator; but I venture to think he must go much deeper than an Insurrection-bill penetrates, to terminate them; nor should he omit a revision of the magistracy, among his subjects of contemplation. From my observations of the whole country, I think an Insurrection-bill unnecessary, as well as impolitic, and a bad precedent. Good magistrates, not despotic tribunals, are the want of the people.

[327] For my part, my dear L., I should greatly prefer, to harsh and irritating temporary Bills, some of the old wholesome regulations of Alfred — the Saxon to the Norman William the First’s law — and the enrolling the substantial formers, and respectable young men in each parish, under one or two worthy impartial magistrates — men of good fortune, good education, and sound friends to government and people. I like not the sword of Damocles suspended over a people. Threatening measures are not always preventive ones. There is more dignity in forgiving at once, in a government, than in any suspending proceedings.

Such are my ideas, which may be erroneous; but I am supported in several of them by some high legal characters in England, who stand a bright exception amongst their party, and take their ground on the good and wholesome principle of truly and wholly imparting the British laws to Ireland; I mean Sir S. Romilly and Sir Arthur Pigott.

I entertain a sincere respect for the present secretary, and think his talents and disposition of' the first order. He may have information far superior to mine, but in sincere wishes for the welfare and integrity of the island, I will not yield to him. No doubt, the ferocity which appears so truly shocking in many parts of Ireland, may seem to warrant the most extraordinary preventive [328] measures; but it is well known that excessive harshness in laws, rentiers the minds of men callous; nor is it consistent with the true spirit of legislation to invest the governor of a country with the despotic power of suspending her liberty from year to year for the faults of a few. All such discretionary kind of laws and measures are quite abhorred by the British constitution. The very best principle of law is, that it is fixed. The least possible assumption of discretion, or of holding men in suspense, in laws, legislators, or lawyers, is desirable. In the divine attribute and privilege of extending mercy, the constitution best and beautifully allows it to the crown; but this is in favour of liberty and life, and on the responsibility of the chief magistrate.

A degree of this ferocity in Ireland is much to be attributed, I believe, to a constant use of raw spirits by the lower classes here. This practlce, joined to want of education and subordination, certainly hardens and makes men unfeeling and inhuman. They become so in private life, in their families, and soon practise on a larger scale the atrocities they have indulged in at home.

I am quite sure that a very considerable civilizing step, obviating in a certain degree the supposed necessity of unconstitutional laws, would be the general introduction of ale and other malt-drink in room of ardent spirits. Public peace would be well bought by some surrender of revenue. To [329] meliorate that disposition from whence so many crimes flow, would be better policy for Ireland, Iban suspending the trial by jury, and punishing, them in a summary manner. The, tdcing land also over the heads of the old tenants, is a great cause, in Limerick, of violent and cruel deeds. The population is prodigiously great, and there is a constant struggle for land going on. Strangers from other parts, with more money, frequently obtain the farm sought for. On this I have dwelt in a former letter, in our first walk. The particular application is strong in this country. The price of labour too is so very low, and employment often not at all to be had, that excruciating distress must continually prevail, and the want of manufacture completes it.

What, in fact, my dear L., is the best reply to those defending an Insurrection-bill for Ireland? It IS this:— Instead of domiciliary visits, and confining men at home by coercion, rather open the doors wide for an immense and insufficiently employed population; provide a judicious vent for their numbers; then you will deem Insurrection-bills unnecessary, and the laws of England sufficient. An effort to violently coerce a vivacious and overflowing population, puts the lives of magistrates and constables in jeopardy, or makes them remiss in enforcing the provisions of a hard law.

If an Irishman suspected of, or known to have [330] committed irregular nightly visitations, were brought before a prudent and benevolent magistrate — the laws and constitution of England explained to him — if he were seriously admonished and told “to go, and sin no more,” it may be confidently said, that in seven cases out of nine the result would be happy, provided a wise landsystem relieves him somewhat. How different from tearing from the distracted family the only supporter and head! and for the constructive crime of absence from home at night, banished to the far-distant receptacle of felons, and the worst members of society. It was unpleasing on every account to walk through this county, under the recent circumstances it had laboured under.

We paused a short time at a very pleasant inn, situated near the respectable small town of BruflT. A' beautiful stream flowed before the door, and our landlady was obliging and friendly, so as to make us regret we had not been remaining there instead of the homely abode we had at Kilmallock. The scene was soothing to the feelings; and here I quietly digested those thoughts I have troubled you with, on what I conceive the mistaken idea of reforming the population of this island by excessive severity.

The road from Bruff to Limerick leads through a very fine country, but we heard, with fresh sorrow, of fever in every part, and the language of [331] despair from some of those poor people on the way who had relatives ill, or had themselves recently recovered, smote our very hearts! They strongly approved the idea of small fever-hospitals. “But,” said they, “alas! how are the poor to get such things? Who is it cares for them?”

A mile or two from Bruff we discovered, in some fields adjoining the road, a large circular Druidical place of worship; the diameter was sixty yards, and the circle was formed by large upright stones; one very large one, much higher than the rest, about eighteen feet, stood in it. A smaller circular spot, formed in the same manner, is not far from it. What may be the antiquity or exact uses of these circles, I cannot pretend to say. I have called them Druidical, in compliance with the general style of speaking. They may have been used by other ministers of religion, before Druids were known! The antiquity of the customs and manners of Ireland is, perhaps, not fully known; it is, beyond doubt, very great. As a place of worship, where a simple and virtuous race offered their humble adoration to a great directing Deity, we viewed it with respect, and did not leave it hastily. The origin, dates, and peculiar rites of these rude circles, I however leave to antiquarians. Several young Irishmen accompanied us to, and remained with us, at them. They conversed with interest on their probable uses, and derived much pleasure [332] from our remarks, to which they replied with great acuteness and feeling.

But as our time was shorty we hastened to leave these rude memorials of the piety of former days. Since their erection, who is it can say how many centuries; how many generations have floated into the tide of futurity? On our way, we passed many handsome places. On the left, the chief baron of the Exchequer’s 6ne mansion; — farther on, Mr. Grady’s charming demesne, and several other seats adorned the country; the whole was a very rich and noble scene of agricultural beauty. As you approach Limerick, it improves. The farmers' houses are good, and no striking wretchedness meets the eye.

Fatigued with our walking, we stopped within three miles of the city, at an humble inn, to procure refreshment. The good man gave us some information. The rents, he said, were quite beyond the power of the small farmer to pay, unless there was another war; and he enquired anxiously, “if there was not a prospect of one“with Russia?” He was an hospitable creature, and his son, a young lad, played several Irish airs on a small octave flute for us. At our request, his mother, who had taught him all these tunes by ear, sang several plaintive and mournful airs in the genuine Irish manner, which pleased us greatly. Every cadence of her songs (Aileen a Rood in particular) was performed with genuine pathos, [333] and her voice did them much justice. It told to the feelings the tale of Erin’s, or of some lover’s woes, in language that could not be misunderstood; and we almost wept, that Munster had no longer her royal halls, her poets, and warriors; or that the deserted lover, who seemed to complain, should mourn in vain.

We departed — but the song yet thrills through my soul! with what potent effect it breathed of melancholy things! The harp and the pipes are, you know, the national musical instruments of Ireland. We have not met them on our way in Munster, and I fear the former is fast declining. I need not describe to you what you have seen. You know, also, how exactly the Irish harp resembles the paintings found in ancient Thebes by Bruce and Denon. It is mortifying to lovers of music and antiquity, that it has been so much exploded in this island. I do not exactly pronounce where the fault lays, but I fear it has been rudely dealt with by English hands! With milder and better policy, it would have been their potent ally.

To a very ancient and high-spirited nation, such as this, music, poetry, and religion, are inexpressibly dear; they twine into the very fibres of the soul, if I may say so; and language, the humbler, but scarcely less powerful associate of the three, binds their stems together. A nation does not yield them, but with existence; nor [334] need she be deprived of them in forming an alliance with another. But that other, if she be the superior, and prudent, will respect and admire them as the valued inmates of a chosen friend. To insult and trample on them, is tasteless and bad policy. The Irish music has been long justly admired; and Carolan, a modern composer and poet, you, my dear L., perfectly well know, had great original merit, both as poet and musician. Now I grieve that we see not — or hear not — the harp of Erin in the green vales of Munster! In time it might have received improvements, and its sweet music contributed to civilize and soften the mind. I do not hesitate to assert, that England erred much in ancient times, by not encouraging here that great moUifier of rude nature — Music. If she feared warlike and hostile strains, might they not easily have been turned to her own advantage in* animating Irish troops against the enemies of the empire, and repaid her for her protection of the harp? and how greatly would it have kept the national character soft and refined! But statesmen too often omit to touch, with a master’s hand, the keys of the human heart, and grasping violently what they might easily have allured to them, spoil their own acquisitions, and transmit to their successors confusion, and a tangled heap of desolation.

[335] The following lines arose out of this subject, which occupied my thoughts, and arfe inscribed to a sister Muse:

TO MRS. LIDDIARD.
Murmurs the harp of Erin’s better days,
Nor round its strings one beam of glory plays!
In the lone dell, the passing stranger hears
The low vibration, and the burst of tears;
Near the dark rock, the Bard but dares to sigh,
Nor trust his sorrows to the public eye!
A country fall’n, can bid no Muse arise
To paint past glories to the listening skies,
Nor sweet reward from patriot hand shall warm,
No, wide-resounding praise the Bard shall charm;
Yet be not they, whom Erin’s woes inspire,
Chill’d by such times, nor quench’d the Poefs fire!
Though, nor reward, nor praise, attend the lay,
Immortal Time prepares a brightening ray;
And Erin’s harp, now clothed with gloomy night,
At length shall, rising, catch the holy light!
Then they, who hail’d it in disastrous hour,
Shall stand the guardians of its secret power;
Though lost to earth, shall feel their country’s love
Bend from the clouds, and taste that bliss above;
While the loud ptean of a people’s praise,
Though late, 4ball consecrate their soul-fraught lays!
And thou,* whose bosom throbs, even now, to sing
Of Erin’s ancient times, and sweetly bring [336]
To her sad harp, a wreath of genial flowers.
Rich as the chaplet, bathed in summer showers;
Thou too, when friendship mourns, and Erin sighs
Shalt read thy praises in a nation’s eyes;
Then just applause shall reach thy haunts on high.
And bless the Muse“s strains, that never die!

* This allusion refers to a Society, of which the Author was the founder, the object of which was to uphold the Irish harp, fast sinking, into oblivion. Amongst the Subscribers, and those who made literary contributions, was the person to whom these verses are addressed. The List of Subscribers had to boast of a Moore, a Scott, a Walker, and the first literary characters of the day.

As we approached Limerick, the environs and view became beautiful. A country tradesman walked a mile with us, and assured, us that for twenty years and more he had never known such distress; and that the whole country suffered from want' of provision, high rents, sickness, and stagnation of trade! We arrived rather late, and were extremely glad of last night’s repose.

Believe me, yours, &c.