T O read Irish history without knowledge of Irish character, is
bewilderment ; to attempt the solution of Irish ques- tions without it, sheer folly. At the best, Irish history is sad reading,—the weary chronicle of a nation's path "all down- hill ;" opportunities missed, impossibilities expected from rulers, antagonisms beyond mortal power of reconciliation, insur- mountable obstacles to unity of action and order, and phases of mad violence succeeded by cruel punishments, and con- sequent prostration of national life. But at least the chronicle of these centuries of misfortune furnishes a warning, and points out, with even a terrible clearness, that the weak- nesses of Irish character dare not be disregarded in dealing with the problems of to-day. Unfortunately, a certain insular narrowness makes it difficult for the bulk of Englishmen to weigh and analyse the subtleties of character of a volatile, unfortunate, and emotional people. I have often thought our statesmen would learn more of Irish character from a course of Lever's novels, than from a ton of Irish official literature. No man was more deeply in sympathy with the typical Irish nature than Lever, and no one saw more clearly the fatal weaknesses and tendencies that marred it. He was without illusions about Irishmen, but he loved them all the same.
Since his day, however, new influences (those of America, the Land League, the "Plan of Campaign," Sm.) have affected the Irish nation, and added fresh difficulties to an already sufficiently complicated study ; so that the writer who will do for this generation what Lever did for the last, will have a far harder task.
The Irish, to go back to the beginning, were never drubbed by the Romans, and so lost a fine piece of discipline from without. Nor were they, in compensation, ever inwardly exercised by those mighty rigors of Puritanism to which, spite of their drawbacks, England owes so much. The failings of Irishmen constantly exposed them to the misfortunes and punishments they felt so acutely and resented so bitterly. But in all their history there is little trace of any looking within for the cause of their troubles,—it was always some one else's fault. Self-criticism and self-searching, with consequent efforts after amendment, at no time seriously occupied the national mind. Ireland has of late seen quite an invasion of " explorers," mostly of the type of wanderers who come in search of a few " facts " and a little political capital to bolster up their preconceived opinions, or whatever views it is their interest to advocate. Of these people I have nothing to say. The ridiculous situations into which many of the wandering M.P.'s and " deputations " have drifted, and their errors and extravagances, have been the natural result of a mis- sion undertaken in such a spirit. But to some of us who have lived our lives in Ireland, and have had burnt into us a know- ledge of the national inconsistencies and failings that wither the life of Ireland to-day as in the past, it seems almost the last insult to be lectured by the noisy tribe whose interested cry was once " Bulgaria," and is " Ireland" to-day, and would be " Hong-Kong" to-morrow if the wire-pullers pleased, and that a return to power might result from it. But the average political tourist is, after all, more given to exaggeration than invention, and returns home repeating more or less correctly what he heard. From this it would often appear that the same Irishman told a different story to the Separatist and the Unionist. I have heard of a case where a Separatist and a Unionist travelled together, and had this peculiar experience through the greater part of their tour. It is not difficult to see how this can have happened. Even when free from the weakness of trying to say what his hearer expects, even when not intentionally insincere or misleading, the Irish peasant's mood is very changeful. Suppose a Gladstonian sees him in the morning and condoles with him on being the " slave of a tyrannical landlord," he is unable to decline the pleasures of sympathy, and so bemoans his hardships, and echoes to the full the complaints put into his mouth. Let another visitor drop in later and ask him if he really has serious cause of complaint of his landlord, a man of general good repute, and ten to one the answer will be,—" I have nothing to say against him ; he was always a just, kind gentleman."
There are modifications, and contradictions, and uncertain- ties all through the Irish character; everything by turns, and nothing long,—this latter is a merciful provision in some cases. And above all things it must be remembered that the characters of all classes of Irishmen (except the Scoto-Irish of the North) are much the same, except in so far as they are modified by education and training. But in the peasant, ignorant, un- trained, and often very superstitious, the qualities that go to make up a typical Irishman are easiest seen and studied. On the surface he is easy-going and good-natured ; beneath the surface he is sensitive and watchful ; revengeful to a degree that is proverbial, with an almost grotesque power of nursing a grievance, and, if need be, of handing it down to posterity for further development ; generous with time and money, yet grasping at his utmost rights, and as much more as he can get ; courteous (when he has not been Americanised), often with a high-bred manner that would not disgrace a palace, and with little subtleties of fine feeling, very noble little glimpses of nature even, side by side with reserves of impetuous violence, and a mode of dealing with opponents in language and ways of wound- ing that are utterly contrary to all instincts of fairness and chivalry. You see him pouring forth personal invec- tives, a wild succession of verbal blows, mostly unfair, the sinner, not the sin, the object all through. No thrust is too cruel or ungenerous for use. You find a great love of com- bination, without any strong force of cohesion. He is remark- able for narrow vision, knowing the power, but unable to
see the highest uses and best developments, of united action. Indeed, it may be that the very love of caballing and com- bining in secret societies is the instinctive provision for a weak -nature conscious of its individual failure. A certain apparent simplicity in him is most deceptive, and veils a quick intellect, inapt for concentration, and inclined to rely on its subtlety and versatility. Ireland has always scorned to learn from the foe, often the best friend in disguise, or she would have taken to heart long ago the words of her great conqueror,—" Subtlety may deceive you ; integrity never will." In business and work, the risky short-cut is always preferred to the safer and longer road. A present advantage, however unworthily or even shiftily obtained, appears well-nigh irresistible, and for its sake future advantages of the most solid kind are sacrificed. An Irishman is quick to discern character, and is, when he chooses, an incisive and severe critic ; but he has a counter- balancing tendency to ignore practically the results of his penetration. He respects a fine and just character, except when blinded by political passion, but prefers to trust his .causes and interests to men of tactics and cleverness, rather -than to men of high character. And, naturally, he is perpetually paying the price of his preference. " They believe everything but facts,und will attend to anybody's business rather than their own," said one who knows them well. To Irish ears, criticism of things Irish is crime. The flatterer is the true friend, and what is expected to be said is something of this .sort :—" Everything that is wrong in Ireland is the fault of the Government" (how soon Thackeray noticed this); "every- thing that is good in Ireland is inherently and peculiarly -Irish, and in no way to be credited to the Government. The Irish are the best, bravest, cleverest, most industrious men on the face of the earth," itc. If you have to make a .criticism, insert it after the above, carefully veiled, so that, indeed, it becomes on the face of it superfluous. Not long ago, an eminent lecturer on industrial subjects began his address to a farming audience in words little different to the above. In due time he came to a mild " but—there were some little matters "—in truth, great matters—" needing amendment," and so on. What he wanted to urge was a revolution of pro- cedure, but he dared not say so. Truth had to be watered -down for the sake of acceptability. He will be a bold man who faces an Irish audience strong with the zeal and uncom- promising words of a true Reformer. Ireland, the living
• contradiction of so many adages, is the one place where soft words do butter parsnips, and where hard words do break bones.
As to the love of truth among Irishmen, it may be nearly :as briefly disposed of as the snakes were in the proverbial chapter on " Snakes in Ireland." The only truth the Irish -care for is one to serve their ends, and for the matter of that, an untruth is often made to do nearly as well. Physical courage, qualified by moral cowardice, love, and trust too easily turned to hate and betrayal, are also their charac- teristics, but it would be too long to pursue the catalogue of what goes to make up a character in which the many graces, like malicious fairy gifts, are almost all coupled with con- ditions well-nigh fatal to their best use. An American writer puts into the mouth of one of his characters a sentence which describes well the impression Ireland leaves on the minds of those who know it best, and which may be aptly quoted in conclusion :—" They are as strange and incomprehensible a race as any in the world. They are as superstitions, as credulous of marvels, fairies, magicians, and omens, as the men St. Patrick preached to, and at the same time they are shrewd, sceptical, sensible, and bottomless liars. Upon the whole, I met with no nation on my travels whose company I enjoyed so much, or who inspired me with so much kindliness, curiosity, and repugnance." C.
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