Chapter XX: Part 20

Belfast is still of the same mind. Its citizens will not have Home Rule. They are more than ever determined that the fruits of their industry shall not be placed at the mercy of men who have consistently advocated the doctrine of plunder. The law-abiding men of Belfast will never submit to the rule of law-breakers, many of whom have expiated their offences in the convict's cell. This debt-paying community will not consent to be under the thumb of men whose most successful doctrine has been the repudiation of legal contracts. The famous merchants and manufacturers of the true capital of Ireland decline to place their future fortunes in the hands of the unscrupulous and beggarly adventurers who would form the bulk of a College Green Parliament. The hard-working artizans of Belfast are firm in their determination to resist the imposition of a legislature which will drive capital from the country, diminish the sources of employment, strangle all beneficial enterprise, and by destroying security undermine and wreck all Irish industry. They know how the agitation originates, and by whom it is directed. They have the results of Papal influence before their eyes. While Belfast as a whole is clean, open, airy, with splendid streets and magnificent buildings, the Catholic portions of the city are as much like the pestilent dens of Tuam and Tipperary as the authorities will permit. The uninstructed stranger can pick out the Home Rule streets. In Belfast as elsewhere, sweetness, light, and loyalty are inseparably conjoined, while evil smells and dinginess are the invariable concomitants of disloyalty and separatism. Fortunately for the Ulster city, the loyalists number three to one, which fact accounts for its general cleanliness, the thriving aspect of its commercial concerns, the decency and order of its well-kept thoroughfares. And whatever Belfasters want they pay for themselves. Belfast receives no Government grants for any municipal purpose, while disloyal Dublin, screaming for equality of treatment, is largely subsidised from Imperial sources. The Belfast people entirely support their hospitals. The Dublin hospitals are largely supported out of the public revenues. The Belfast Botanic Gardens are kept going by Belfast. The Dublin Botanical Gardens are wholly supported by Government. Further examples are needless, the facts being simple as they are undeniable. Dublin gets everything. Belfast gets absolutely nothing. Disloyalty is at a premium. Motley's the only wear. The screamers are always getting something to stop their mouths, a sop, not a gag. Steady, quiet, hard-working folks are of no account. The Belfast men ask for nothing, and get it. They want no pecuniary aid, being used to self-help, and liking it best. Stiff in opinion, they know their own minds, and are accustomed to victory. They do not in turn threaten and complain and cringe and curse and fawn. They keep a level course and run on an even keel. They are bad to beat, and can do with much letting alone. They are pious in their way, and talk like Cromwell's Puritans. They abhor Popery, judging the tree by its fruits, a test recommended by their chiefest classic. They believe that Protestantism is daylight, that Popery is darkness, and that the sun is rising. They believe with Carlyle that "Popery cannot come back any more than paganism, which also lingers in some countries." They also believe with the sage that "there is a perennial nobleness and even sacredness in Work. Were he never so benighted, forgetful of his high calling, there is always hope in a man who actually and earnestly works; in Idleness alone is there perpetual despair." So they work every day and all the day, save on rare occasions, and for these holidays they make up by overtime. They think Home Rule is useless at best, and not only useless, but dangerous. They declare it would affect their liberties, and this notion is ineradicable. Touch them in their freedom and the secold Northerners become aflame. And while the Irish Kelts burn like straw--a flame and a puff of smoke, and there an end--these Scots settlers are like oaken logs, slow to take fire, but hard to extinguish. They prosper under the Union, and therefore, say they, the Union is good. What the poor Irish need is industry, not Acts of Parliament. The land is rich, the laws are just, the judges are honest, and industry is encouraged. The fault is in the people themselves, and in their pastors and masters. The convergence of Ulster opinion reminds me of an old line, which fitly illustrates the position of the Irish malcontent party--

_Heu mihi! quam pingui macer est mihi taurus in arvo._ Quaint old Thomas Fuller (as I remember) has rendered this--

My starveling bull,
Ah, woe is me,
In pasture full
How lean is he!

I am almost disposed to believe that Horace anticipated the case; or that, like Mr. John Dillon, he had the gift of remembering occurrences before they took place.

Much has been spoken and written in England concerning "Orange rowdyism." I saw the twenty thousand Orangemen who walked through Belfast to Knocknagoney on Wednesday last. They had nearly five miles to march on a hot day before they reached the meeting-place, some hours to stand there listening to speeches, and then the long march back again. Large numbers went to the Orange Halls, there to conclude the day. I followed them thither, heard their speeches, noted their modes of enjoyment, watched them unnoticed and unknown, save in one instance, until they finally dispersed. Next day I went to Scarva, forty miles away, to see the great sham fight which annually takes place there between representatives of King James and King William of Orange. There were sixty-four special trains, at cheap fares, running to Scarva, besides the ordinary service, and let it be remembered that Scarva is on the main line from Dublin to Belfast. Now let me state precisely what I saw.

The Belfast procession was very like the tail of the Belfast Balfour demonstration, and with good reason, for both consisted of twenty thousand Orangemen. But on Wednesday the Orangemen, instead of being preceded by a hundred thousand citizens of Ulster, had it all to themselves. The authorities know the character of Orangemen. They know that scorching weather and long dusty marches are apt to lead to copious libations, especially in holiday time. They know that political feeling runs high, and that the present moment is one of undue excitement. They know that the Papist party have taunted Orangemen with the supposed progress of the bill, and that the same people say daily that Orangeism will be at once abolished, and that this year sees the last Orange procession in Belfast. "This is yer last kick before we kick ye to hell," said a broken-nosed gentleman at the corner of Carrick Hill. The authorities knew all these things, and taking into account the known character of Orangeism, with the special exasperation of the moment, and remembering their own responsibility in the matter of order, how many extra policemen were drafted into the city?

Not one. The men who really know Orangemen knew that no precautions were needed.

There were brass bands, drum and fife bands, and bands of bagpipes. The drums were something tremendous. The Belfast drumming is a thing apart, like a Plymouth Brother. We have nothing like it in England. The big drums run in couples, borne by stout fellows of infinite muscle, and tireless energy. The kettle-drums hunt in packs, like beagles. The big drums are the biggest the climate will grow, and the drummers lash them into fury with thin canes, having no knob, no wrapper of felt, no softening or mitigating influence whatever. The bands played "God save the Queen," "Rule Britannia," "The Boyne Water," and "The Death of Nelson." The fifes screamed shrilly, the brass tubes blared, and every drummer drummed as if he had the Pope himself under his especial care. The vigour and verve of these marching musicians is very surprising. You cannot tire them out. The tenth mile ended as fresh as the first, though every performer had worked like a horse. There is a reason for this. Their hearts are in the work. To them it means something. The scarves and busbies and uniforms and desperate paroxysms of drumming are somewhat comical to strangers, but the people looked earnest, and as if engaged in serious business. Thousands of well-dressed people walked with the procession, or looked gravely on. There was no horse-play, and no noise other than the music. No bare feet, no bare heads, no rags, no dirt, no disorder. A Papist sprang from his lair in a side street and tried to snatch the scarf from a young man, who promptly drove him back to his den. Nothing else happened. At midnight there were for the whole city twenty police cases against thirty-nine for last year's twelfth. So much for Orange rowdies in the streets. Let us look upon their private orgies.

At seven o'clock I went to the Orange Hall, Clifton Street, the headquarters of the body. The various lodges were dispersed in several rooms, where they seemed to be taking tea with their sisters and their cousins and their aunts. A turn outside landed me opposite Saint Patrick's Roman Catholic Church, and here was a strong guard of police. The neighbouring streets of Carrick Hill, North Street, and another, literally swarmed with filthy, bare-footed women, wearing the hooded shawl of Limerick, of Tuam, of Tipperary. The men had a dangerous look. Many were drunk, and some had bandaged heads. More policemen half-way down Carrick Hill, and more still at the end. The people who pay no taxes cost most to keep in order. I have somewhere seen a body of returns showing that while the Unionist population requires only ten or twelve policemen to every ten thousand people, the Home Rule provinces take from forty-eight to fifty-two to manage the same number. Returning to the Orange Hall a number of dirty, bare-footed children walked in procession past the door singing vociferously. They sung with great spirit to the tune of "Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching," and seemed to enjoy it amazingly. I did not catch the words. They stopped as I came up, but a young fellow on guard at the hall said, "They grind up the children in songs of a party nature, and send them here to annoy us. Of course, we can't notice little children."

This time I dropped in the thick of the entertainment. A mild, mild man occupied the chair, young men and maidens, old men and children sitting around. They were inebriating on ginger beer and biscuits, and their wildest revelry was the singing of "The Old Folks at Home" by a young lady in white. Mr. E.J. Fullwood, of Birmingham, who was there as a visitor, made a rattling speech, and received a great ovation. A quiet gentleman, by special request, made a few remarks on the political situation. He said:--"We will resist a Home Rule Parliament at any cost and at every cost. We will not have it. Our faith is plighted, and we are not the men to go back of our word." His manner was very subdued, and the audience also kept very quiet. What these men say they say in their sober senses, and not by reason of excitement. Another room was livelier. An English gentleman was holding forth. Then the band played "No surrender," after which a lady sang "Killarney's hills and vales." In a third room a brother was calling on the brethren to give three cheers for "our beloved Queen," under whose benignant reign blessings had been shed upon the British Empire, "to which we belong, and to which we still belong, so long as they will have us." In a fourth room the listening Orangemen sat under a discourse on the efficacy of prayer, which they were urged to make a living part of their everyday life. All this was very disappointing, and when in Royal Avenue the helmeted watchman of the night assured me that nothing had happened, and that nothing was likely to happen, I abandoned all hope of Orange rowdyism.

Next day at ten, I went to Scarva, or, as the natives spell it, Scarvagh. A neat little place full of Black Protestants. The houses are clean and tidy, and the people have a well-to-do look. There was a great crowd at the station, and a band of drummers were laying on with such thundering effect that my very coat sleeves vibrated with the concussion. A big arch of orange lilies bore the one word WELCOME, and the roadside was lined with stalls selling provisions and ginger beer. The church on the hill flew the Orange flag with the Union Jack. The Presbyterian meeting-house and a Methodist Chapel complete the tale of worship-houses. The place is without rags, dirt, beggars, or any other symptoms of Home Rule patriotism. Neither is there a Roman Catholic Chapel. The signboards bore Scots and English names. Mr. J. Hawthorne stood at his door, big-boned and burly, with a handsome good-humoured face. "Ye'll gang up the brae, till ye see an avenue with lots of folk intil it," said this "Irishman," whose ancestors have lived at Scarva from time immemorial.

"Yes, we pit up the airch o' lilies to welcome our friends. They come every year, and a gude mony o' them too, so we pit up that bit thing oot o' friendship like."

I told him this was to be the last occasion, as Mr. Dillon was determined to manage Ulster. He laughed good-naturedly.

"Mon alive, d'ye tell me that any mon said sic a fuleish speech? Mon, its borne in on me that we'll tak a dooms lot of managin'. These chaps dinna ken ower weel what they're talkin' aboot. An' they maun say somethin' to please the fellows that keep them in siller. These things hae gane on in Scarva sin' auld lang syne, an' nothin' e'er stappit them. They went on when the Party Processions Act was law, an' tho' the sojers ance cam frae Dublin to stop the demonstration, the Orangemen mustered in sic force that they never interfered aifter all. An' in Ulster we'll hauld our own, d'ye mind that? We've tauld them oor mind, an' that we wunna hae Home Rule. We've tauld them that, an' we'll stand by it. They've gotten oor ultimatum, an' they can mak a kirk or a mill o' it."

I gangit up the brae through dense crowds constantly increasing as the sixty-four specials gradually came in. The way was sylvan and pretty, big beech trees and elms meeting overhead, the road running along the side of a steep hill sloping down to a small river, the slope carefully tilled, and showing good husbandry. Then a beautifully wooded and extensive demesne, and a mile of avenue, with many thousands of well-dressed orderly people, the ladies forming about half the company. Then a large low, brown mansion with a gravelled quadrangle, around which marched fife and drum bands playing "No Surrender" and "The Boyne Water." And everywhere incessant drumming and drinking of ginger beer. Banners were there of every size, shape, and colour, many with painted devices, more or less well done. The Lurgan Temperance Lodge exhibited Moses in the wilderness, holding up the brazen serpent. "Three-fourths of the Orange Lodges are based on temperance principles," said an Orange authority standing by, "and what is more, they don't allow smoking. We Orange rowdies are to a great extent temperance men." I remembered that the three meetings of the night before were smokeless concerts, and that the fourth resembled a Methodist love-feast, with an old brother telling his experiences. Also that Captain Milligen, a leading Plymouth Brother of Warrenpoint, had told me that he had been present at a Scarva meeting, and that from beginning to end he never heard a bad word, nor saw anything objectionable. The sham fight took place on a hill hard by. Two fine young fellows fenced with old cavalry swords, and King James, with green coat and plumes, succumbed to King William with orange coat and plumes, while their respective armies to the number of about thirty, fifteen on each side, fired in the air. I noticed that while a few had ancient brass-bound muskets, which looked as if converted from flint locks, most were armed with Snider rifles of army pattern. The drums excelled themselves, and the fifers shrieked martial airs. The people waved their hats and cheered, and that was the whole of it. Returning to the station, a good young man gave me a tract, wherein I found myself addressed as a Dear Unsaved Reader, and later as a Hell-deserving Sinner. Then a Salvation Army man telling a crowd to Escape for their lives, which I was just doing, and that once he had loved pleasure, which seemed likely enough. Then a big banner whereon was depicted David in the act of beheading Goliath with a yeomanry sword, the Wicklow mountains in the distance. Then an old man on the bridge declaring to the multitude that he would not be a Papist for all that earth could give, and that nothing could induce his fellow-citizens to submit to Home Rule for one second of time. "No, never, never, never. Rather than accept of Popish rule, we'll take arms in our hands as our fathers did, and like them we will conquer. Have we not their example before us? Are we such dastards as to give up that for which they shed their blood? Shall the sons be unworthy of the sires? Never shall it be said that the children were unworthy their inheritance of Freedom. Old as I am, I would take a musket, and go forth in the name of the Lord. Shame on the Scots and English if they desert us in our hour of need. Are they not our own kith and kin? But whether they aid us, or whether they desert us, we will stand firm, and be true to ourselves. Our cause is good, and we are bound to win, as we won before. Only stand firm, shoulder to shoulder. Shall we bow down to Popery? No, by the God that made us, No. Shall we truckle to Rome, shall we become slaves to Popish knaves, shall we become subservient to priestcraft and lying and roguery and trickery? Never shall it be said of us. We claim to be part and parcel of the glorious British Empire. We have helped to upbuild that Empire, and we claim our inheritance. We will NOT sell our birthright, we will NOT connive at the destruction of Britain's greatness, we will NOT have Home Rule. 'Shall we from the Union sever? By the God that made us, never!'"

The people listened silently, with grave, earnest faces. They mean business. During my first visit to Belfast I interviewed the leading citizens, the clergy, nobility, and gentry. This time I spoke with artisans and craftsmen, and I found the same feeling, a deep and immovable resolve to fight till the last extremity. It should be remembered that all Ulstermen are not Orangemen. But the religious bodies which have held aloof from Orangeism are just as determined. On the Irish Church question the Orange body stood alone. The dissenting sects were against them everywhere. All are united now, and the attempt to force Home Rule on these resolute men would be attended by the most awful consequences. They are not of a breed that easily knocks under. They remind you of the Scottish Covenanters. They are men with whom you would rather dine than fight. In Belfast, besides Mr. Fullwood, of Birmingham, previously mentioned, I met with Mr. Lyons, of Newcastle-on-Tyne, who in his walks abroad in the city had put down in his pocket-book the names of all streets he judged to be exclusively Catholic. He was right save in three cases, where the people were mixed. He also observed that in the poorer quarters the windows of all Protestant places of worship were protected by wire netting, but that the Catholic chapels were not so protected. As the Protestants are three to one, he thought this a curious commentary on the statements anent Orange rowdyism. Mr. Deacon, of Manchester, and the Englishmen hereinbefore mentioned were present at the Orange Hall, and all saw what I have related. Mr. Henry Charlton, J.P., of Gateshead-on-Tyne, agrees with them that the religious question is the secret of the whole agitation, and that the sooner a leading statesman meets the Home Rule movement on this, the true ground, the better for the country. "We are too squeamish in England. We fear to offend our Catholic friends, with whom there is no fault to be found. But we want an influential speaker to say at once that the conflict is reality between Protestantism and Popery. The best plan would be to state things as they are, and to meet the enemy directly." So spoke one of these visitors, a gentleman of great political experience. Is this opinion not well worth consideration? Is not the time for soft speaking nearly over?

Mr. Dillon says he will manage Ulster. He will need the British Army at his back. His Army of Independence will not avail him much. The position of the Nationalist members towards Ulster is not unlike that of the Chinaman who wanted an English sailor punished. "There he stands," said the skipper, "go and punch his head." "No, no," said the Celestial complainant, "me no likee-pikee that way. But spose three, five, 'leven big sailors tie him up, hold him fast, then very much me bamboo he." And that is how the Dillonites would hope to manage Ulster.

Belfast, July 15th.

No. 49.--THE CONSTITUTION OF THE ORANGE LODGES.

Portadown is another of the clean, well-built towns of Ulster dependent for its prosperity on the linen trade. The River Bann flows through it, a fine stone bridge spanning its waters in the principal street. Everybody seems comfortably off, and dirty slums are nowhere to be found. Some of the shops are very much larger than the size of the town would seem to warrant, and one ironmonger's store is far larger than any similar shop in Birmingham. The Presbyterian meeting-house, on the right as you enter, and the Protestant Church, which occupies a conspicuous position at the meeting of two main thoroughfares, are plain, substantial buildings without any striking architectural pretensions, and the Orange Hall, which seems an indispensable adjunct of all "settler" towns, is also modest and unassuming. The meadows bordering the Bann are spread with miles of bleaching linen, for which the river is especially famous, its waters having a very superior reputation for the production of dazzling whiteness. The town is half-a-mile from the station, which is an important junction, and the number of cars in waiting show that the people expect the coming of business men. When first I visited the town, placards announcing drill meetings at the Orange Hall were everywhere stuck up, but I saw none during my last march round. Perhaps the Orangemen have completed their arrangements. The Portadown people have no intention of accepting Home Rule. On the contrary they are determined to have none of it. At present they are quiet enough, because they are confident that the bill can never pass, and they do not wish to meet trouble halfway. The House of Lords is their best bower anchor, and for the present they leave the matter with the peers. So they mind their work, and spend their time in making linen. When they demonstrate they do it with a will, but they cannot live by demonstrations, and they are used to paying their way. They see what happens in so-called "patriotic" districts, how neglect of duty accompanies eternal agitation, and how the result is poverty and failure to meet the ordinary obligations of social life. The artisans of Portadown go to work every day, and the farmers do their level best with the land, which all about this region is highly cultivated. They claim to belong to the party of law and order, and they agree with the great orator who once said:--"The party of law and order includes every farmer who does not want to rob the landlord of his due and who does not want to be forced to pay blackmail to agitation--every poor fellow who desires to be at liberty to earn a day's wages by whomsoever they are offered him, without being shunned, insulted, beaten, or too probably murdered." The orator in question bears the well-known name of William Ewart Gladstone, now intimately associated with the names of Dillon, O'Brien, Sexton, O'Connor, Tim Healy, and the rest of the agitators to whom he was referring in the above-quoted speech, delivered at Hawick just ten years ago.

A Portadown Orangeman complained bitterly of the attitude of the English Gladstonian party with reference to his order. He said:--"We have been denounced as rowdies and Orange blackguards until the English people seem to believe it. They never think of comparing our record with the record of the party denouncing us, nor do they know anything of the history and constitution of the order. We have always been loyal, always friends of England, and that is why the Nationalist party so strongly disapprove of us. We have never occupied the time of the English Parliament, nor have we leagued ourselves with the enemies of England. We have maintained order, and taken care of English interests in Ireland, besides looking after our own personal affairs. We have not stood everlastingly hat in hand, crying, like the daughter of the horse-leech, Give, give. And great is our reward. We are to be handed over to a pack of Papist traitors and robbers, who for years have made the country a perfect Hell. Mr. Gladstone would fain give rich, industrious Ulster into the hands of lazy, improvident Connaught. Let them try it on. Let them impose their taxes, and let them try to collect them. They'll find in Ulster something to run up against. We prefer business to fighting and disturbance, but when once we make up our minds for a row we shall go in for a big thing. Most of our people have a deep sense of religion, and they will look upon it as a religious war. It will be the sword of the Lord and of Gideon. We never will bow down to Popery. And that is what Home Rule means. We see the abject condition of the Papists, and we know their slavish superstitions. The bulk of them are body and soul in the hands of the priests, and that is the secret of their non-success in life. The poorest among them are taxed to death by the Church. A fee must be paid for christening, and unless you pay a stiff figure you won't have a priest at your funeral. The poor Catholics are buried without any religious service whatever. They are taken to the churchyard by their friends and put in a hole, like a dog. Pay, pay, pay, from the cradle to the grave. And when the priests wish to raise money, they dictate how much each person is to give. They do not believe in free-will offerings, otherwise their receipts would be very small indeed. There you have one explanation of Papist poverty. Are we to put our necks under the heels of a Parliament worked by Bishop Walsh of Dublin? Never, as long as we can strike a blow for freedom. We look to England at present. If England fails us, we shall look to ourselves. Our fathers died to preserve us from King James and Popery, and we are not going back to it at this time of day.

"English Home Rulers have actually taken up the cry of Equality, and down with Protestant ascendency. Such foolish ignorance almost amounts to crime. Where are the Roman Catholic disabilities? For two generations the Papists have had absolute equality. Every office is open to them on the judicial bench. There have been Roman Catholic Lord Chancellors, and Lord Chief Justices. O'Laughlin, O'Hagan, Naish, Pallas, Barry, O'Brien, Keogh, and many others are all Roman Catholic judges. The Papists have an overwhelming preponderance in Parliamentary representation. They are looked after in the matter of education, whether elementary, intermediate, or University. The system of the National Board was introduced to meet the objections of the Roman Catholics. They objected to the use of the Bible. As you know the Papists object very strongly to the Bible, and as it came out some time since, before the Commissioners of Education, of four hundred Maynooth students only one in forty had a Bible at all. Theological students without a Bible! But each was compelled to have a copy of some Jesuit writer.

"Where is the inequality? The Romanists have their own college, this very Maynooth, entirely under the control of their own bishops, where they educate the sons of small farmers and peasants and whiskey-shop keepers by means of funds very largely taken from the Protestant Church of Ireland. They do not desire equality, they are resolved on ascendency. We who live in Ireland know and feel the spirit of intolerance which marks the Romanist body. It is proposed to make of Ireland a sort of Papal state. We have the declarations of Cardinal Logue, of Archbishop Walsh, of Archbishop Croke before us. We need to know no more. The English people pay no attention to them, or have forgotten them. We bear them in mind, and we shall act accordingly."

My friend's statements anent the raising of money by the Roman Catholic clergy and the alleged poverty of Ireland reminded me that a year ago at the opening of the Redemptorist Church of Dundalk the collections of one day realised twelve hundred pounds, and that in the same town a priest refused to baptise the child of a poor woman for less than five shillings. She tendered four shillings and sixpence, but the man of God sent her home for the odd sixpence. She then went to the Protestant minister, who baptised the child for nothing. In Warrenpoint the priest decided what subscriptions each and every person should pay to the funds of the new Catholic Church, and in Monaghan three well-to-do Papists had their cheques returned, as being insufficient. The Romanist Cathedral of that poor little town is currently reported to have cost half a million, but that it cost at least a hundred thousand pounds, exclusive of the stone, which was given by the Protestant landowner, Lord Rossmore, is admitted by the most reliable authorities. The landlord agreed to give the stone on condition that the quarry should be filled up and the land levelled as it was found at first. Stone for the cathedral, a convent, and many other buildings was taken, but the conditions were not fulfilled, and a hole with forty feet of water was left, so that the field was dangerous for cattle. The Catholic party refused to level, and a lawsuit was the result. My Monaghan letter related the total exclusion of Protestants, including Lord Rossmore's agent, from the Town Council. So much for Papal tolerance and gratitude.

The English prejudice against Orangemen is ill-founded. Their sheet-anchor is an open Bible, and their principles, as expressed by their constitution, are such as ought to ensure the approval and support of Englishmen. They read as follows:--"The institution is composed of Protestants resolved to the utmost of their power to support and defend the rightful Sovereign, the Protestant religion, the laws of the country, the Legislative Union, and the succession to the Throne being Protestant, and united further for the defence of their own persons and properties and the maintenance of the public peace. It is exclusively an association of those who are attached to the religion of the Reformation, and _will not admit into the brotherhood persons whom an intolerant spirit leads to persecute, injure, or upbraid any man on account of his religious opinions_. They associate also in honour of King William the Third, Prince of Orange, whose name they bear, as supporters of his glorious memory." I have italicised a few words which clear the association from the charge of organised intolerance, which is made alike by English and Irish Home Rulers. The Portadown folks are especially well-versed in the history of the movement, and in the perils which impelled their forefathers to band themselves together. According to Froude, it was on the 18th September, 1795, that a peace was formally signed at Portadown between the Peep-o'-Day Boys and the Defenders, and the hatchet was apparently buried. But the incongruous elements were drawn together only for a more violent recoil. The very same day Mr. Atkinson, a Protestant, one of the Defender subscribers, was shot at. The following day a party of Protestants were waylaid and beaten. On the 21st both parties collected in force, and at a village in Tyrone, from which the event took the name by which it is known, was fought the battle of the Diamond. The Protestants won the day, though outnumbered. Eight and forty Defenders were left dead on the field, and the same evening was established the first lodge of an institution which was to gather into it all that was best and noblest in Ireland. The name of Orangemen had long existed. It had been used by loyal Protestants to designate those of themselves who adhered most faithfully to the principles of 1688. Threatened now with a general Roman Catholic insurrection, with the Executive authority powerless, and determined at all events not to offer the throats of themselves and their families to the Roman Catholic knife, they organised themselves into a volunteer police to prevent murder, and to awe into submission the roving bands of assassins who were scaring sleep from the bedside of every Protestant household. They became the abhorrence of traitors whose crimes they thwarted. The Government looked askance at a body of men who interfered with the time-honoured policy of overcoming sedition by tenderness and softness of speech. But the lodges grew and multiplied. Honest men of all ranks sought admission into them as into spontaneous Vigilance Committees to supply the place of the constabulary which ought to have been, but was not, established; and if they did their work with some roughness and irregularity, the work nevertheless was done. By the spring of 1797 they could place twenty thousand men at the disposition of the authorities. In 1798 they filled the ranks of the Yeomanry, and beyond all other influences the Orange organisation counteracted and thwarted the progress of the United Irishmen in Ulster, and when the moment of danger arrived, had broken the right arm of the insurrection. After this brief sketch of the origin of the movement it would not be surprising if the constitutions of the body inculcated intolerance, or even revenge. On the contrary, both these things are sternly prohibited, and their contraries expressly insisted on. A pious Brother of Portadown said:--"As Protestants we endeavour to make the Bible our rule and guide. We endeavour to love our neighbour as ourselves, we obey the constituted authorities, we maintain and uphold the law, we fear God and honour the Queen. We are firmly resolved to maintain our present position to the British Crown, and we deny the right of Mr. Gladstone to give us away, or to barter us for power. By the confession of his own followers, all his previous legislation for Ireland has been a failure, for if it be not so, why the present measure? We claim no ascendency, and we will submit to none. It was from our ancestors that ascendency received its death-blow. Ever since 1681 our leading doctrine has been equality for all, without distinction of class or creed. By thrift and industry we have created a state of commercial prosperity which is a credit and an honour to the empire, while the Nationalist party under precisely similar conditions have discredited the empire, and by perpetual agitation, and not sticking to business, have brought every part of the country under their influence to degradation and poverty; besides which they have, by their repudiation of contracts, undermined the morality of their supporters all over Ireland. The Nationalist farmers prefer to have twenty-five per cent. off their rent by agitation or intimidation rather than to double or treble the productiveness of their land by hard work and the application of modern principles of farming. We have seen from the first that the whole movement was originated in roguery and sustained by roguery, and we see that it is carried on by roguery. We not only know the men who keep up the agitation, but we know the influences at work behind them. All their talk is of Protestant ascendency. Can they point out a single instance in which we have the upper hand, or state anything in which we as Protestants have any advantage whatever? Mr. Gladstone himself cannot do it. He has said so in as plain terms as he can be got to use. But the time for talking is over. We have said our say, and we are prepared to do our do. The Papists round here are very confident that before long they will have a marked ascendency. They expect no less. Let them attempt it. We shall be ready to stand our ground. As the poet says, Now the field is not far off When we must give the world a proof Of deeds, not words, and such as suit Another manner of dispute."

A Home Ruler encountered casually showed some temper. He said:--"All the prosperity of which the Protestants boast is due to the fact that for centuries they have been the favoured party. England has petted them, and helped them, and encouraged them in every way. We were a conquered people, and these settlements of Methodists, and Presbyterians, and Quakers, and all the tag-rag-and-bob-tail of dissent, were thrown into the country to hold it for England, and to act as spies on the real possessors of the land, in the interests of England. They were, and are, the English garrison. They have no part with the natives, the original sons of the soil. What right, moral or legal, have these Colquhouns, these Galbraiths, these Andersons, to Irish soil? None but the right of the sword, the right of superior force. Other nations have succumbed to the yoke of England, the greatest tyrant with which the earth was ever cursed. The Scots and Welsh lick the boots of the English because it pays them to do so. The Irish have never given in, and they never will. For seven hundred years we have rebelled, and as an Irishman I am proud of it. It shows a spirit that no tyranny can break. What tyranny do we now undergo? The tyranny of a master we do not like, and in whom we have no confidence. We never agreed to accept the yoke of England. Now all we ask is to be allowed to govern Ireland according to Irish ideas, and after promising that we shall do so a bill is brought in which is a perfect farce, and which puts us in a far worse condition than ever. Some say that when once we get an Irish Parliament we can arrange these small details. And mind this, we shall exact considerably more because of English distrust and English meanness."

I note in Saturday's issue of the party sheets a quotation from an Irish-American paper, the _Saint Louis Republic_, which thus opines as to the policy of the Irish leaders:--

"They would better hold off until they have the bill out of the woods before they start a scrimmage over small details. Ireland and America will think any bill which establishes local government a progressive step of glory enough for one year. If Ireland cannot improve the law after it gets a Legislature it needs a few American politicians, more than an extra fund." How does this promise for the peace that is to follow this great measure of "Justice" to Ireland? With the improved methods of the Irish-American politicians, who, on the establishment of an Irish Parliament, would inundate the country, finding in its chaotic and helpless state a fit subject for plunder, the meek-and-mild Radicals of the bread-and-butter type, who trollop through the lobbies after the Grand Old Bell-wether, would be highly delighted. How did the Items get into Parliament at all? Why did they desert the mothers' meetings, the Band-of-Hope committees, the five o'clock tea parties at which they made their reputations? There, indeed, they found congenial society, there they were listened to with rapt attention, there they could coruscate like Tritons among minnows. Among the blind a one-eyed man is King. The English Home Rule members are a collection of intellectual Cyclops. They can vote, though. They can walk about, and that suffices their leader. If weak in the head, they are strong in the legs. Legislation must in future be pronounced with a hard g, or to avoid confusion of terms, and to preserve a pure etymology, a new term is needed to describe the law-making of the Home Rule members. Pedislation might serve at a pinch. I humbly commend the term to the attention of my countrymen.

Judged by classification of its friends and enemies, Home Rule comes out badly indeed. The capitalists, manufacturers, merchants, industrial community, professional men are against it. Six hundred thousand Irish Churchmen are against it. Five hundred thousand Methodists and Presbyterians are against it. Sixty thousand members of smaller denominations are against it. A hundred and seventy-four thousand Protestants in Leinster, and a hundred and six thousand in Munster and Connaught are against it. The educated and loyal Roman Catholic laity are against it. All who care for England and are willing to join in singing "God save the Queen" are against it. On the other hand amongst those who are for it, and allied with them, we find the dynamiters of America, the Fenians and Invincibles, the illiterate voters of Ireland, the idlers, the disloyal, the mutilators of cattle, the boycotters, the moonlighters and outragemongers, the murderers, the village ruffians, the city corner boys, and all the rest of the blackguards who have flourished and been secure under the Land League's fostering wing. Are we to stand quietly aside and see the destinies of decent people entrusted to the leaders of a movement which owes its success to such supporters? Are Englishmen willing to be longer fooled by a Government of nincompoops?

Those who have studied the thing on the spot will excuse a little warmth. And then, I am subject to a kind of Dillonism. I am exasperated at the recollection of what may possibly take place next year.

Portadown, July 18th.

No. 50.--THE HOLLOWNESS OF HOME RULE.

This beautiful watering place cannot be compared with the celebrated holiday resorts of England, Wales, Scotland, or France without doing it injustice. It is unique in its characteristics, and globe-trotters aver that earth does not show a spot with an outlook more beautiful. From the beach the view of the mountain-bordered Lough extends for many miles seaward. On the opposite slopes to the right are the fresh green pastures and woods of Omeath, backed by the Carlingford mountains. On the left are wooded hills a thousand feet high which lead the eye to the Mourne Mountains at Rostrevor, where is the famous Cloughmore (Big stone), a granite block nine feet high by fifteen feet long, poised on the very apex of the mountain in the most remarkable way. How it got there is indeed a puzzle, as it stands on a bed of limestone nine hundred and fifty-seven feet above sea level. You can see it from the square of Warrenpoint, four miles away, and no doubt good eyes would make it out at a much greater distance. Geologists talk about the glacial age, and say that the boulder was left there by an iceberg from the north; but the mountain peasants know better. They know that Fin McCoul heaved it at Brian Boru, jerking it across the Lough from the opposite mountain five or six miles away, as an indication that he didn't care a button for his rival. These modern mountaineers are almost as easily gulled as their ancestors. They believe in Home Rule because they will, under an Irish Legislature, "get all they want." They have votes, and they use them under clerical advice. "I don't know anything about Home Rule except that we are to get all we want." Those are the very words of an enlightened and independent elector resident near Cloughmore. Never was there more simple faith, or more concise _credenda_. The Newcastle programme is comparatively unpromising. The wildest Radical, the most advanced Socialist, never came up to this. The Grand Old Man himself in his most desperate struggles for place and power, never exactly promised everything that everybody wished. To get all you want is, indeed, the _summum bonum_, the Ultima Thule, the _ne plus ultra_ of political management. After this the old cries of peace, retrenchment, and reform sound beggarly indeed. Never was there such a succinct and complete compendium of political belief. Nobody can outbid the man who offers "all you want." For compactness and simplicity and general satisfactoriness this phase of Home Rule diplomacy takes the cake. Failure to fulfil the promise is of course to be charged to the brutal Saxon. Meanwhile the promise costs nothing, and like sheep's-head broth is very filling at the price.

Not long ago the point in the Lough was a rabbit warren, whence the name. Before that the situation was too exposed to the incursions of rovers to tempt settlers, and Narrow-water Castle, built to defend the pass, was (and is) between the town and Newry. But times have changed. Settlers flocked across from Ayr, from Troon, from Ardrossan, and other Scots ports lying handy. A smart, attractive town has sprung up, starting with a square a hundred yards across. Big ships which cannot get up to Newry discharge in the Lough by means of lighters. An eight-hundred-ton barque from Italy is unloading before my window. There is a first-rate quay, with moorings for many vessels. The harbour is connected by rail with all parts of Ireland, and in it seven hundred to eight hundred ships yearly discharge cargoes. The grassy beach-promenade is half-a-mile long, and an open tramcar runs along the shore for three miles. The residents are alive to the importance of catering for visitors, and the Town Commissioners, a mixed body, have provided bathing accommodation for both sexes. Galway, with thrice the population, a fine promenade, good sands, and a grand bay, has no such arrangements; and Westport has very little accommodation for tourists. The contrast between the North of Ireland and the South and West comes out in everything.

The Methodists and Presbyterians are strong in the town, to say nothing of the two Protestant Churches, one in Warrenpoint and another in the Clonallon suburb. The Catholic Chapel is counterbalanced by the Masonic Hall. Wherefore it is not surprising to learn that the bulk of the townsmen are staunch Unionists. The Nationalist papers have little sale hereabouts, the _Belfast News Letter_ and the _Irish Times_ having the pull. A business man, who has lived here for forty years, said:--

"We are fairly matched in numbers but the Conservatives have the wealth and respectability. The fishermen and labourers are nearly all Home Rulers, simply because they are Catholics. They are quite incapable of saying _why_ they are Home Rulers, and some of them even profess to regard the proposed change with alarm, and say they prefer that things should remain as they are. But although they speak so fairly, yet when the time comes to vote, they vote as the priest tells them. They have no option, with their belief. I don't blame the poor fellows one bit. I followed the report of the South Meath election petition very closely, and I know that the same kind of pressure was exerted here. At Castlejordan Chapel Father O'Connell commanded the people, in a sermon, to go to a Nationalist meeting, and said he would be there, and that their parish priest expected them to go. He said that if any were absent he would expect them to give a good and sufficient reason for their absence. On another occasion a priest met a number of men who were going to an opposition meeting, and turned them back with threats. These priests not only threatened to refuse extreme unction to persons who voted against the clerical party, but they also threatened personal violence, and then said, 'Don't hit back, for I have the holy sacrament on me.' Father John Fay, parish priest of Summerhill, County Meath, told his people that they must not look on him as a mere man; if they did they might have some prejudice against him, for all had their shortcomings. 'The priest is the ambassador of Jesus Christ, and not like other ambassadors. He carries his Lord and Master about with him, and when the priest is with the people Almighty God is with them.' That is what Father Fay reckoned himself. Almighty God, no less. He alluded to the consecrated wafers he had in his pocket. The doctrine of transubstantiation is here invoked to assist in carrying a Home Rule candidate of the right clerical shade. And all the awful language used from the altar, in the confessional, all the threats of eternal damnation, and burning in the fires of hell, all the refusals of mass, and to hear dying confessions, were directed against another section of the Home Rule party, and not against a Unionist at all. How does this promise for the working of an Irish Parliament?

"I note that the English Home Rule papers say nothing good of the bill. They are always praising the management of the Old Parliamentary Hand. They beslaver him with fulsome adoration. They cannot point out anything good in the provisions of the bill, nor in the central idea of the bill, but they must fill up somehow, and they praise his artfulness, how he dodged this, and dexterously managed that. They have nothing but admiration for his jugglery and House-of-Commons tricks. They bring him down to the level of a practised conjuror or a thimblerigger. But, with all his wonderful cleverness, he is not admired or supported by any intelligent body of public men. The gag-trick ought to settle him. We in Ulster feel sure that a general election to-morrow would for ever deprive him of power. Of course the Old Hand knows that, and will not give the country an opportunity of pronouncing judgment. He and his flock of baa-lambs will put off the day of reckoning as long as ever they can. Either on the present or next year's register he is bound to be badly beaten. His course is clear. He used to have three courses open to him, but now he has only one. He must try to weather the storm until he has a chance of faking the voters' lists so as to improve his own chances. It is said that Mr. Henry Fowler is already preparing such a scheme. Like enough. If tricks will win, I back the G.O.M. There are more tricks in him than in a waggon-load of monkeys. The strangest thing I ever saw or ever heard of is the calmness with which the English people take the proposition that Ireland shall manage English affairs, while Ireland is to manage her own without any interference. I should have expected the British workman to processionise about this. I should have thought the British middle-classes would have been up in arms at the bare thought of so monstrous a proposition. And so they would if they thought it would become law. But, like us, they know there will never be any Home Rule. Then, they are not so nervous as we in Ireland are, because they don't know as we do what Home Rule really means.

"No earthly power can assist the Irish peasantry so long as they remain under the dominion of the priests. Popery is the vampire that is sucking the life-blood of the country. It is fashionable nowadays to abstain from denouncing other religious systems, on the plea of toleration. I agree with perfect toleration, and I am not desirous of making reference to Romanism. But they force it upon us. The Papist clergy say that the poverty of the country is due to English rule. We who live here know that it is due to Romish rule. How is it that all Protestants are well off, and make no complaint? How is it that their children never run barefoot? How is it that their families are well educated, that their dwellings are clean, and that they pay their way? Home Rule may impoverish those whom the teachings and habits of Protestantism have enriched, but neither Home Rule nor anything else will enrich those whom Popery has impoverished. England should turn a deaf ear to the cry for Home Rule, which means the ruin of her only friends in Ireland, and unknown damage to herself. To give her enemies the means wherewithal to damage her is very midsummer madness."