AN ULSTERMAN FOR IRELAND
without delay. And I will try to help you.
Your grand master landlords and their agents, sub-agents, and bog agents, I have no doubt, caution you earnestly against anything I can say to you. They tell you that I am a "Jacobin," and an "Anarchist," and a "Revolutionist," and that I am to take my trial for sedition against what they call the "laws of the land." Now, I confess that I am a "revolutionist,"—that is to say, I desire by any means, peaceable or otherwise, to alter the system of Government and distribution of property in this land, so that men willing to earn their bread may have leave and opportunity to earn it—so that those who till the soil may be sure that they will have enough of the produce to live upon. And I confess that I am to take my trial (or, for that matter, two trials) for sedition and evil speaking against the present system of "laws" and "government." This is all true, but it does not in the least alter the state of the case as to those same subjects of reflection which I have mentioned above. I am not constitutional—yet your harvests are carried off from you. I am not "loyal"—quite the contrary. Yet it is true that your ancient tenant-right is slipping fast out of your hands. I may be a revolutionist, but you weave and dig for half wages. I am a "Jacobin," but you are fast becoming paupers.
You may observe that I have not undertaken to write these letters in order to flatter you—to call you "sturdy yeomanry" and the like; in fact, I know you too well. I know your way of life, and I know that hunger is at most of your doors. A "sturdy yeomanry" is not bred
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