trace the course of events by which it has been produced. It may be enough that I should suggest an opinion as to some of the concurrent causes which have been gradually operating. I believe that two great classes of causes have acted from different quarters upon the Irishman's mind. The priests themselves have set one class in motion-their tyranny had long been felt and submitted to; but I think that the outrageous intensity of bitterness with which a large portion of the priesthood have, for the last few years more especially, used their prerogative of cursing, has been one main means of disgusting the whole heart of the people; and thus they have become more capable of forming a considerate judgment concerning the disgraceful immorality that marks the lives of too many of the priests, particularly in the more remote districts. Then, too, not a few priests have taxed the credulity of their blind flocks too far; while pretending to confer benefits of various kinds miraculously-the failures have been so gross as to concur in awakening the dormant powers of reason. When a man, under the direction of his priest, has sprinkled holy water on the thatch of his cabin in a violent storm, expecting the wind to pay due respect to the blessing which had given such power to the water; and has found the straws scattered to the heavens in spite of the charm, he not only has recourse to bands and weights to secure his roof upon the next occasion of danger, but he becomes disposed to join his neighbours in despising the boast of the priest's power. And when the same charmed holy water has been used by the priest's own hands over the withering stalk of the potato, and yet the root yields nothing but a mass of corruption for the famished dupe, no wonder that the heart-broken man shrinks from the deceiving miracle-mongers. These things have been done-the latter in several instances, and it is not to be doubted that they have contributed something towards the breaking of the spell of priestcraft, although it is certainly true that the inveterate credulity of a large number of Romanists is proof against even this.

But perhaps the most effectual of the causes connected with the priests themselves is the unfeeling rapacity with which the dues are drawn from those who are in the extremest poverty -not to mention the 5s. which is paid for a baptism, nor the accustomed dues for the house, extreme unction is constantly made an occasion for extortion. In the north and east, only a shilling is paid for "anointing," as it is called; but in Kerry and Clare, 7s. 6d. is required for that which is considered as essentially necessary to the salvation of a dying man's soul. So, too, the affections of the poor people have been made a source of profit in a manner which has tended to dry up the current of them. A private mass for the soul of a loved child, or parent, or wife, or husband, in purgatory, which in some parts is purchased for 2s. 6d., in other parts is refused without the payment of 20s.

In such cases, the superstitious credulity of warmly-affectioned hearts clashes with their deep, even starving poverty, and in the collision the prestige of the priesthood is crushed. The callous craving for impossible payments has lost the priest his influence. To this has been added the effect of further exactions of money for political purposes, which the priests have almost universally pressed upon the people, under the excitement of wild hopes, which, having been always deferred, have at last made the Irish heart sick.

The other class of causes which have operated to produce the effect I have represented, is of a very different kind. The first of these which I would mention is the imperceptible effect of the proximity of the true light. This effect must find its way, even through the deepest darkness, after a long continuance of enlightenment around. The system of Romanism tends to keep up a separateness between the Roman Catholics and the converts to truth who have left them; but the fact that a great number in various parts have come out from Popery has called attention in a decided manner. Many judicious efforts seem also to have been made by various means to

break down the wall of partition behind which Romanism would fain imprison its victims; and from what I have gathered in some parts of Ireland, these efforts appear to have been blessed from on high, to the furtherance of that freedom of thought which has made very many Irishmen bold enough to withstand the power of the priest himself, or to evade its requirements when it is put forth in connexion with their religious habits and feelings.

But beyond comparison the most important of the operating causes of this class has been the working of the Irish Society. In my recent visit to Ireland I was anxious to gather evidence of the real amount of good done by this Society; and I may truly say that, in reading the Reports of its progress, "the half was not told me." I examined several collections of readers and teachers belonging to the Society, and conversed with many individually; and the amount of Scriptural knowledge, as well as the tone of feeling manifested, was entirely satisfactory, and far beyond my expectation. The indirect result was also evident amongst those who were not connected with the Society in any way. I found readiness to bear with a plain speaking out of truth concerning Romanism, where I least expected it; and more especially, I found amongst a large proportion of those with whom I conversed, a feeling that the Book of God ought to be read-a strong sense that the priests were wrong in preventing the people from being taught to read it. Hardly anything seemed to be more frequently referred to as a grievance than the cursing for reading the Bible in Irish, The Irish language is very difficult to be read, though it is so generally spoken; to have acquired the capacity of reading Irish is a great boast, and it immediately gives an Irishman an advanced position amongst his neighbours. Hence the teachers of the Irish Society gain more respect for their valued qualifications than they lose through the uncongenial anathemas of the priests. This peculiar feature of the Irish Society has had a very beneficial effect during the last

few years. In helping to exalt his neglected language, it has recommended itself by a soothing sympathy with the Irishman's love of nationality, without irritating his passions by political agitation. This was well shewn in the reply of a small tradesman, who was reproached by a violent repeal-warden with not paying his shilling, and coming to the repeal reading-room. He was charged with being a traitor-"not an Irishman," &c. The shopkeeper spoke something in the Irish language which the repeal-warden said he did not understand. The shopkeeper then said, "Which of us is the Irishman?—your honour, that must borrow the Sassenach's tongue to tell how you'll fight with him; or myself, that can read the story of peace in old Ireland's own language?"

While the mind of the Irish Romanists is in this condition, it has pleased God to visit the land with the severe scourge now hanging over the people. The fearful state of distress resulting from the entire destruction of the potatoes can scarcely be exaggerated; and those only who are acquainted with the habitual destitution of the Irish can form anything like an estimate of the sufferings they will have to undergo. The feeling is very strong amongst them, that the famine is the judgment of God, "for the sins of priests and people," as they commonly express it; while the notion entertained of the share which belongs to the priests makes it much larger than that ascribed to the people. Some very boldly say, that the conduct of the priests is of itself enough to call God's wrath down upon them. Whatever may be the degree to which they are thus influenced, it is very apparent that a great crisis is at this moment passing upon the minds of the people of Ireland, on the result of which their future condition greatly depends. They are in a transition state —all the bonds that have long bound them are loosened-and the agony of instant distress sets them free to turn to any call that points them to a rest in the agitating confusion which distracts them. While our rulers and the efforts of private benevolence are

combining to supply the food that their bodies require, surely it becomes Christians to remember, that "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God."

The present crisis is one which, amonst other symptoms, leaves the door wide open for an extension of those efforts which have been hitherto

so blessed. The progress already made has prepared the minds of the people; and I cannot but consider the machinery of the society already referred to as a peculiar adaptation, by the providence of God, for the crisis that has now arisen. There is no time to form any other plan, or to organize any other machine; and none could be more suitable for the occasion, to the requirements of which, however, it must rise in power, in order to fulfil the great purpose in view. The present concurrence of facilities invites to a decided and prompt effort for the enlightening and spiritual emancipation of the Irish people; but the moment must not be lost. The current of feeling now agitating the Irish heart flows fast, and it must be taken at the top of its tide. The emergency is pressing but temporary, and it calls for a present and temporary addition of power to the engine by which adequate help is to be afforded. At least a hundred Irish readers should be immediately engaged, and located in districts all over the west of Ireland. Thirty pounds is all that would be required to pay each of these for a year, and within that time the crisis would have been directed for good, by their instrumentality. But the effort would not be complete without a simultaneous offer of the Holy Scriptures, in Irish and in English. Fifty or sixty colporteurs, carrying, amongst other things, very cheap Testaments, in both languages, and travelling in every direction, would supply this want. I would venture to suggest that some properly-qualified persons

should undertake to propose to the people of England the gathering of a special fund to be thus employed; and that they should select competent persons in Ireland, whose duty it should be to select, engage, and locate readers and colporteurs, in proportion as the funds might be subscribed, that no time might be lost.

If it be objected that the thing most needed is not religious instruction, but food, I admit that this latter want is, indeed, the characteristic of the present emergency. But let it be remarked that the very urgency and immensity of this want takes it out of the scope of private charity. The people of England are not now called upon, as they were in the distress which occurred twenty years ago, to avert starvation from Ireland by their charitable contributions. Other and more extensive means must be employed, and are now employing by the Government. Meanwhile, however, I cannot help seeing a peculiar opportunity, at the present moment, of gaining the attention of the people for the truths of God's word. And why should not those among us, who know the value of religious truth, and have the means at their command, employ those means in seizing this favourable opportunity?

Sanguine expectations might be reasonably entertained of the success of such an effort in the existing condition of the people; and, to take even the very lowest view, how valuable must be the benefit produced by merely engaging the attention of a starving population, on a subject which directs the thoughts to heaven, during a period when every thought, drawn away from the contemplation of present misery, must be a gain to the thinker, and may be an important diversion in favour of good order. I remain, Sir, very faithful servant, ALEX. R. C. DALLAS.

Your

Wanstow, October 24.

MY DEAR MISS M.,-I return you my grateful thanks for your Christian sympathy under our present difficulties. I do not exaggerate when I say, that another month passed as I have spent the last, would put me out of this place, or out of this present evil world. I could not possibly stand it. I had no money, public or private, and my people were starving. They were tempted, too, by the support offered and freely given, through an association lately established here by the priests, with the view of seducing our people. They also promise to give them free passages, as emigrants, in the spring. This is strong temptation to a poor man who has nothing in hand to keep his family from starying, and who has no prospect of being able to live in this country, after the destruction of the potatoes.

You

know very well that whatever distress we have had to bear during the summer months, we were relieved heretofore when the people were able to go to their potato grounds, and we enjoyed comparative ease and independence for months after; and had the potato crop prospered this year, our people would have been above want. But the Almighty has, for his own wise purposes, willed it otherwise, and we are in a most trying position. It went to my heart yesterday, to hear that your old friend, Paddy Sanders, and family, had gone to bed the night before without having eaten anything since their scanty morning meal; but such cases are common amongst us at present. The people have barely

existed all the last week on such wretched potatoes as they could get out of the ground; but now they

know not what to do, and the prospect before us for the winter is most discouraging—in fact, it is awful! I am not without hope, thank God, though in fear and trembling. My little flock at Donquin is truly to be pitied. Distress in any shape, at this season, is so unusual, that we are the more at a loss what to do. It is most painful to see crowds of people returning from Dingle to the remotest part of the district, with their scanty supply of Indian meal. They are glad to succeed in getting half a stone, after waiting long, and crushing in the crowd, and often they return without any. Our poor people have no chance among them. They would not only be insulted, but pulled about, and crushed to death perhaps, there is such tearing for it. A woman, of my Donquin flock, sunk down in a faint, after having made her way through the crowd; and some have to come for it almost every day in the week, eight or nine miles. We must, under such circumstances, provide meal ourselves; and sell, at least, to our own people, and at a great loss, to enable them to provide barely sufficient food. I have, for this purpose, taken some tons-from our Relief Committee, and from merchants at Tralee. One great source of my sad state of mind was, to be obliged to take this on my own credit, and to have no way of meeting it, and the every-day increasing distress of the whole year before us.

May our God give us wisdom and a blessing; and repay you ten fold, in Christ, for your sympathy and aid. J. MORIARTY.

DECEMBER 1846,

20

The Great Western sailed from Liverpool on the 12th Sept., with 126 passengers and a crew of 85, in all 211 souls. The storm commenced on the evening of Saturday, the 19th. On Sunday, the sea rose frightfully, the sails were split, and the vessel was running under bare-poles. At eleven o'clock that forenoon a heavy sea broke over the fore part of the larboard wheelhouse or paddle-box, which started the ice-house and large iron life-boat from their fastenings, and washed them to leeward, and with much difficulty they were temporarily secured. The icehouse contained some seven or eight tons of ice, and was fastened by cleets and stanchions. Let the reader ima

gine the force of the sea and the height of the wave which, rising over the paddle-box, struck the ice-house and the large iron life-boat above it, twisted them from their fastenings, breaking the ice-house into two parts, ripping off the planks, crushing the starboard companion away, and only prevented from making a clear breach in the sides of the ship by a sudden lurch to port. At half-past eleven the square sails blew away from the yards. The lee quarter boats were torn from the davits by a heavy lee lurch of the ship, bending the davits, tearing out the ring-bolts from their stems and sterns. At noon, storm and sea raging in all their fury, sea still breaking over the ship; a heavy sea struck the larboard paddle-box and smashed it to atoms; sprung the spring beam, breaking the under half; shattered the parts of the ship attached thereto. A splinter struck the captain on the head while standing on the poop; and the force of the blow, together with the sea, carried him over the lee quarter, and he was only saved by the nettings.

After this sea had passed over, the

water gained on the pumps; the wind appeared to lull a little, and the ship a little easier, but still blowing a storm. All the hatches, except those made use of for passing into the engine-room, were battened down, and the skylights partially covered. The weather continued the same until midnight, at which time it lulled for half an hour. Again the storm rose. The wind howled, roared, and bellowed, like the constant mutterings of the thunder cloud. Huge waves of tremendous height and volume rose in mad display around the ship, threatening every moment to break over her amidships and crush the vessel. Sea after sea striking her with terrific noise, caused the gallant ship to stop for an instant, tremble and shake in every timber from her stern to her stern-post, reeling and lurching, tossed to and fro; again, would she gather fresh strength, and with her wheels half hid in the wild water, again and again receive the thundering blows of an element that seemed armed for destruction. The sails on the yards, strongly secured by ropes and gaskets, were blown from their furls and streamed out to leeward in ribbons. But all this was as nothing. About one, P.M., whilst most of the passengers were seated in agonizing suspense in the lower cabin, holding fast to the tables and settees, a sea struck the vessel, and a tremendous crash was heard on deck. Instantly the cabin was darkened, and torrents of water came pouring through the skylight. Scarcely had the waters reached the floor, when all in the cabins and state-rooms sprang to their feet, and simultaneously, as if by concert, the ladies uttered a scream of agony, so painful, so fearful, and so despairing, the sound of it will never be forgotten. Several fainted,