gulations prescribed by the system, are of comparatively little importance. And under the national system, as administered in Ireland, in nine cases out of ten, the appointment of the master is in the Roman Catholic priest. This point has been admirably insisted on and exemplified by Mr. Colquhoun, member of parliament for Kilmarnock, in his evidence before the committee of the House of Lords. He has, also, we are glad to perceive, in a series of letters addressed to the Rev. James Carlile, enforced what he there stated, with a fulness and a clearness which leave nothing to be desired, except that the letters should be collected and published in a more permanent form, for the purpose of being brought under the notice of those by whose award the matter in dispute must be finally decided. Indeed, we know not how any fair-minded man could peruse what he has said or written, without being convinced that a more destructive experiment never was made upon the morals of a whole people, than that which has now received the sanction of parliament, and that it cannot be persevered in, without leading to results, for which, when the evil has progressed a very little more, we may in vain look for a remedy. The effect of the system has been, and will be, to re-introduce into active employment the pestilent fellows and movers of sedition who formerly held sway in the hedgeschools, and whom the labours of the various benevolent societies, who interested themselves in the education of the Irish, had been successful in throwing out of employment. It is no wonder that a system like this should have gained the good will of all who desire that a susceptible and imaginative people should be trained in anti-Protestant and antiAnglican antipathies, and leavened with the feelings or the principles which would lead them to desire a repeal of the union. We laugh at the man who besitates to believe that such a course can be persevered in without convulsing Ireland, and dismembering the empire. We write advisedly; we know what we say. For Lord Stanley, who introduced the system, we have a profound respect. We are not more convinced that he acted not wisely, than that he intended well. Whether the constitution of his mind, or the bent of his character, be or be not such as would lead him, upon a careful re-examination of the subject, to retrace his steps, we know not; but this we do

know, that he would despise us, if, with our conviction upon the subject, we hesitated for one moment to denounce the project, as one founded in error, and fraught with danger.

The practical question is simply this, is it safe or expedient to give to the Irish Roman Catholic priesthood the control of the national education? If there is any person who can pronounce affirmatively respecting such a proposition, he must either be leagued in partnership with that priesthood, or he can know nothing of the state of Ireland. We leave wholly out of account the miserable creatures, the hangers-on of the National Board, and the Mulgrave sycophants, who know nothing of principle, but as it is a corelative to interest, and who seek nothing in the support they give to any public question, beyond their own advancement. But, with the exception of these, the repealers, and those who, from gross and ignorant partizanship, are the blind and unconscious favourers

of repeal, no sane man can pronounce, that to entrust the conduct of a system of national education, which is to mould the minds and determine the characters of the lower classes in Ireland to the Romish clergy, could be either safe or expedient. Therefore it is, that the enlightened Protestant clergy have so loudly protested against it. Therefore it is, that it has been met by such loud reclamation from all those enlightened and pious laymen, who first took the lead in instructing the minds of the humbler classes, and to whom the country was indebted for bauishing a course of reading and a race of teachers, by which the peasantry were trained in lawlessness and disorder. They see that the new system must bring back all the old evils again; and, therefore, with both their hands, they protest against a course of proceeding, which will not send peace amongst their countrymen "but a sword," and which is sure to provoke ill will amongst men, and promote dishonour to God in the highest.

"The present system cannot work well, because the established clergy will not join in it. If they would only lend it their countenance, it would do beautifully. Surely, now that the government are bent upon upholding it, it would be less hurtful with their countenance than it can be without it." This is the language of the advocates of the system. But to this it may be at once replied, that the established

clergy abstain from a connection with it, not from any indignant feeling that they have been detruded from their proper place, but from a deep conviction that no countenance which they could give it, and no superintendence which they could exercise, could prevent it doing more_evil_than_good. If good, in the least degree, were to predominate from the present experiment, we are persuaded that they would be amongst its firmest supporters. Although they might not be able to do all the good which they would desire, by all means, most cheerfully would they avail themselves of its instrumentality in doing all the good which they could; if, as we have said, good and not evil were in any material degree sure to predominate. But they well know what the result must necessarily be; and we recognise both wisdom and virtue in leaving, as far as they are concerned, the system in the hands of its projectors. Their part and duty is, to bear a solemn testimony against it. This they have most nobly

done. And we are well persuaded that in thus discharging their consciences, and, without regard to personal consequences, washing their hands out of any concern in what they must firmly believe to be a scheme for the moral and political contamination, and perversion of a whole people, they are best acting in the spirit of their calling, and indeed, taking the only course which they could consistently take, as honest men, or enlightened Christians.

But we must conclude. The new parliament will soon be put to the test. What it is made of will speedily appear. Upon union and concert amongst Conservatives, the salvation of the empire now entirely depends. May they be awake to the awful responsibilities of their high calling, and vindicate the choice of those who, relying on their wisdom and their virtue, sent them to fight in their behalf, what may be the last battle of the constitution, England expects that every man will do his duty."

66

THE village of Dunasker is one of the prettiest in Ireland; not merely from situation, but from its general air of neatness; together with something like taste in the architecture of the cottages, and an attention to rustic ornament-the cheapest of all kind of ornament, and, at the same time, the most neglected by our countrymen of all ranks, who are contented, from generation to generation, to build the same style of unsightly cabin, or the canister-shaped, staring combination of stone, and mortar, and slates, called a comfortable house, without porch, or verandah, or projecting roof-stuck up in the middle of a field, in all the naked simplicity of white-wash. There was, however, quite sufficient nationality about it to silence the complaint, sometimes made by the admirers of primitive habits and manners, that, in the present rage for improvement, all that is interesting from peculiarity, or romantic from association, will disappear under the prevalence of a system, which will polish the whole world into a most uninteresting uniformity; so that the intellectual traveller can have no possible in

ducement for visiting foreign countries except the mere love of locomotion ; as his own neighbourhood can afford a perfect fac-simile of the habits, and manners, and occupations of all that the sun rises upon. Whether such a state of things be likely to occur through the instrumentality of that mighty magician, the school-master, abroad and at home, we cannot say ; neither, whether the world would gain or lose much by the exchange; but of this we are certain, that Ireland will be the last country at least in Protestant Christendom, to submit to such unpoetical innovations. She has hitherto stoutly resisted the encroachments of improvement, so called; and bids fair to continue the opposition with the happiest results.

It would be, however, unfair to give all the credit of this perseverance in well-doing to our countrymen. Truth requires us to say that they must, long since, have borne the yoke of comparative civilization-nay, there were times, and those not a few, when they were so foolishly new-fangled as to show something like a willingness to bend their necks to it, had not Eng

land, generous, disinterested England, spiritedly come to their assistance, and, on every symptom of weakness, roused their dying energies, and used the most powerful arguments to persuade them to continue in their primitive simplicity. For this, we owe her a debt of gratitude, which, to our credit be it spoken, we are not slack to pay. She is daily and hourly reaping the reward of her good deeds; and now, that she is advancing in years, and somewhat weakened by the infirmities natural to length of days, she has the consolation of receiving the warmest professions of attachment, and the most zealous offers of assistance and support from her so-disinterestedly-adopted, and more-than-maternally-indulged child.

Notwithstanding her praiseworthy efforts to keep the Irish a distinct and primitive people, from the days of Harry Plantagenet, who paid us the first unceremonious and consolatory visit, to this good time, yet it is well known that repeated attempts have been made by well-meaning, though (we suppose) mistaken people, to break in upon this system; and though browbeat, and laughed at, and lectured pretty sharply by high authorities; and opposed with might and main by an influential body of anti-improvers at home, they have succeeded, on a small scale, here and there, in carrying their object into effect.

Among the most persevering innovators was Colonel Asker, proprietor of the village to which we have already introduced our readers. On succeeding to the property by the death of an absentee uncle, he found the whole estate in complete Irish order a state of things which had satisfied his ancestors for many generations, but which he could not quite agree with. He, accordingly, planned various changes; and, by degrees, carried some of his plans into operation, undismayed by the prognostications of his agent, or the bitter denunciations of the Romish priesthood. From the first, he set his heart upon remodelling Dunasker, which, unfortunately for its peace, was situated within a stone's throw of the principal entrance to his magnificent demesne; and, what was more unfortunate, happened, with the exception of a few plots of ground, to be all out of lease upon the demise of the late Mr. Asker. The work of reformation immediately began there. He found an able assistant in Mr. Ravenscroft, the rector of the parish;

and a number of ladies having formed themselves into a visiting committee to inspect the in-and-out-door arrangements of the cottage-holders, who were willing to comply with the new regulations, the work went on with spirit. A relentless crusade was carried on against the poor pigs, who, from time immemorial, were allowed the privilege of walking, and sleeping, and rooting through the length and breadth of the village. They were now shut up in durance, vile or comfortable, as it suited their owners' fancies to provide for them; many of whom loudly protested against the cruelty of confining such innocent brutes, that never gave trouble, one way or other, but just furraged for themselves, and made the place look comfortable and Christian-like. But aristocratic tyranny would not listen to reason; and the pigs were ever after obliged to live and die in obscurity. The dunghill and the duck-pool were also forced to change places from the front to the rere ; and such a number of new fashions were introduced, that, as Peggy M'Clusker complained, "the poor place wouldn't know itself, if it had eyes to see the differ."

In an amazingly short time the principal street retained but few of its original features. The zigzag mud cabins, inhabited by petty dealers, who all advertised "good dry lodgings," and thus gave harbour and encouragement to vagrants of all descriptions, were soon pulled down, and their inhabitants accommodated with tenements in less conspicuous situations, unless they entered into all the plans of their landlord; and a number of comfortable and ornamental cottages built in their place, which, for the most part, were tenanted by persons in the middling walks of life, who, some of them at least, acquired a taste for neatness and cleanliness, when they found that such real luxuries could be enjoyed at a very moderate expense of time and trouble. Besides, premiums in money were annually granted in proportion to the improvements, interior, and exterior, viz. So much for the mere cleanliness of white-wash. So much for the wellstocked, and neatly-kept garden, or clipped thorn hedge; and more again, if the in-door economy corresponded with the outward appearance; and thus, many who had passed half the term of human life without "ever bothering themselves about posies, or gravel walks, or them sort of out-ofthe-way-things-for-a-poor-body," were

now often seen in a summer's evening, nailing up the straggling sprays of the various plants reaching to the roof of their houses, or weeding the little flower-plot before the door.

Much was done, no doubt, but still, a few demurrers among the old residenters spoiled, in a great degree, the effect of the tout en semble, by their rigid adherence to old customs, in spite of fee or reward. Every stranger wondered why Colonel Asker could possibly permit that abominable old cabin to stand in all its ugliness and raggedness close by the beautiful verandahed cottage-house, the residence of the curate; or asked, what, in the name of taste, persuaded him to tolerate that nuisance, in the shape of an old barn that encroached upon the garden of the picturesque schoolhouse. Nobody could be more alive to the beggarly appearance of these two objects than the Colonel; but, as he often querulously asked, when they were pointed out to him by an admiring visitor, what could he do? These said tenements were in the possession of widows, both old women. Betty Cranley, the curate's unwelcome and unbecoming neighbour, had a lease of her holding for her own life; and, consequently, could not be disturbed. She could only be advised, or scolded, or coaxed, or bought out; and none of these arguments, though tried over and over again, could move her. She said that she was a woman who was ever content. That she looked for no favour or commendation, more nor what she was willing to ax. That she had enough to live on in dacency, without coveting could and hardship, with paving stones before the door to wear out her feet, or trees to keep the day-light from her eyes, that wasn't growing sharp with years; and that she wasn't consated to want more goodness, nor what it pleased God to send her." Her obstinacy was unconquerable; and after many most strenuous efforts from various quarters, to soften her into a yielding mood, she was allowed to follow her own fancy in peace.

But the time came when, in spite of herself, an impression was made on Mrs. Cranley's hard heart. Her next door neighbour, who had been persuaded to comply with the new regulations, was rewarded on the annual inspection of her premises by the visiting ladies, with the highest premium, as a reward for the order and regularity, and cleanliness, to which she

had reduced her hitherto most slatternly establishment; and, two Sundays after, walked off to the chapel, attended by her three daughters, each in drab-coloured cloth mantles; while the matron, in addition to her own handsome, new cloak, sported no fewer than two new silk handkerchiefs-one of bright yellow, over her cap-the other of deep pink, cross-barred with gosling green, tied carelessly round her neck, with a large bow in front. Now, Betty had a particular fancy for silk handkerchiefs, which she could seldom indulge, from the smallness of her income, and the demands made upon her by a good-for-nothing, drunken son; and she began seriously to consider that fifty shillings would be as much in her pocket as in Nancy Dollaway's; and, that if some trouble was got by the earning, why, after all, there was little to be had in this world without trouble, before or after. For four Sundays she patiently-Anglice, impatiently-bore the bright vision of Mrs. Dollaway and her daughter's dazzling the eyes of all beholders by their magnificence, when she, at length, resolved that before the next summer, they should hide their diminished heads before her superior taste, “if,” as she said, she was to scour and whitewash herself black in the face." Lest her ardour should cool, she instantly sent a message to Miss Cherry Cartwright, the most active and indefatigable of the lady-reformers, to say, that if a garden-boy was sent from the castle; and if the steward would order one of the men to manage the lime; and if the carpenter was sent to knock up a few conveniences, she might see if she wouldn't have her own place more genteel, and more what-it-ought-to-be, nor some that got credit for a bit of outside shew-off.

66

Miss Cartwright was prepared to satisfy every demand, however exorbitant; and set out early the next day, in high spirits, to begin her mancuvres. But disappointment most unexpectedly awaited her. A visitor had been there before her, in the person of the Reverend Mr. Feeny-coadjutor priest of the parish; and Mrs. Cranley having opened her mind to him on the subject of her intended operations, requested his opinion and advice, without which she seldom ventured to act, unless when determined to have her own way. Troth, Betty," began her pastor, when he heard all she had to say, "I'd

be sorry to doubt your sense, and diseretion, having more opinion of your judgment than many in the place besides and it's not to your face I say it, but behind your back, I give you that commendation. But I've a misgiving that I must hold my tongue hereafter, if you take to heretic fashions. I never faulted this house. I got many a good dinner in it, and I hoped to get more, if your life was spared, and to see it throng with the neighbours, when I had a station in it. But when you tie yourself up under the rules of Miss Cartwright and her faction, you can't have a welcome for me or any poor Christian; for I wont go any where where my poor flock wont have recourse to me. That I tell you fair; and sure you couldn't be glad to see them if they hadn't genteel shoes that wouldn't mark your floor?"

Mr. Feeny," she answered quickly, "if I was a queen I'd never shut my door again' a holy man like you, or the greatest vagabond or blackguard that you might bring in your company -so make your mind asy about that."

66

I never misdoubted your good heart, Betty; only you are too asy imposed on. Answer me this-do you think that if the smell of a drop of punch was seen in the house the day after a station-and you know you are a woman never begrudges what's becoming on them occasions-now, do you think that they wouldn't withhold their dirty little bribe for that excuse, though you slaved like a pack-horse for it the whole year out?"

66

66

Mrs. Cranley paused for a moment. Maybe so," she answered. "I wouldn't put it past them. But, Mr. Feeny dear, they never said one word about the like to Nancy Dollawayand what a gathering had she last March! and what a kick-up did some of them make before they went home!" They had their own rasons for that, Betty; and they have deeper rasons, that I can tell you. All they want is to get proper footing in your house, and then you'll see how soon the Testament will be slipt out of the pocket, and you'll have to listen to what your poor soul will be screeching for long enough after you are dead and buried."

And

half year's end to the other. what makes you think they'd be harder on me?"

"Now, woman alive! wont you see through them ?" asked the priest angrily. "They can't murder us outright thanks to our own courage for that; so they will turn us to the best account they can. Hasn't he up at the castle a mighty great tenderness for you, that makes him so desirous to have flowers in your garden and rails before your door? Isn't Miss Cartwright wonderful generous, too, with her basket on her arm, and her little penny books to give, where the penny itself would be more wanting? and as far as I can hear, she dont do much in the way of charity."

Mrs. Cranley felt very much inclined to assent to this libel upon the lady, had not something like a qualm of conscience stuck in her throat, when she remembered that a certain article of her own dress, made of that material called flannel, could give the lie direct to such an assertion; and that the blankets on her bed were ready to add their testimony to Miss Cartwright's liberality; she, therefore, only grumbled a little about the poverty of the poor, and again adverted to Nancy Dollaway, and how well she made her way with all sorts.

"She

"Not at all," be answered. dont give me satisfaction. I have my eye upon her; and if I see her currying favour with our enemies, I'll play her a trick she wont forget in a hurry. Betty, have done with that pack, and don't let them be laughing at you in their sleeve. The short and the long of it is this-provided they can make you and the like of you scavengers for the Protestants, so that they will have a clean walk to church, they didn't care if you lived upon one meal a day for a hundred years, and you know that well."

Betty's spirit rose superior to all the advantages to be gained by such degradation. She wished that her two hands might be cut off, by means which we shall not specify, before she would demean herself to so low a station; and the priest having added more arguments of the same kind, soon after left her in the most anti-improving frame of mind possible. She was sulky and mysterious to Miss Cartwright on her arrival. She said the gossoon made a mistake, as they always do. That she wanted nobody to darken her door that wasn't contented