"The Ills Of Ireland Arise From The Inordinate
Love Of The Soil In The Irish, And Their Lower Civilization.
For
instance, an English farmer in renting a farm would consider how much
would support his family first, and if the landlord would not accept as
rent what was left the bargain would not be struck.
The Irish farmer
would think first how much he could give the landlord, and would
calculate to live somehow, not as any human beings should live, but
somehow on the balance."
This was his theory. He denounced in no measured terms the union of
Church and State, blaming this for the prevalent unbelief.
In many parts of Ireland I have been taken for some one else. I have had
secrets whispered to me under the mistake that I was somebody else, and
words of warning given that were of no use to me, but the funniest of
all was on my way from Dublin to Belfast. At a station in Down, I think,
a gentleman got into our compartment who was in the good-natured stage
of tipsyness. He seemed to labor under the impression that I had, in
company with my brother, canvassed eagerly for Colonel Knox at the
Tyrone election. He felt called upon to tell me some home truths, the
bitterness of which he qualified with nods and smiles. "We bate your
Colonel Knox, mem, in spite of you and your brother. Thank God for the
ballot, mem, we can vote according to our own consciences, mem, not as
we're told as it used to be, mem.
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