The Sun.
London, England, 1822-01-09 00:00:00

PETITION TO THE CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES,

BY MR. DOUGLAS LOVEDAY, AN ENGLISHMAN AND
PROTESTANT,

Complaining of the Rapt de STduction (enticilw away) of his
• two daughters and his niece, in a seminary of education in
which he had places them at Paris; and- in which-the cre-
dulity of these young persons was abused by means of su-
perstitious terrors, besettings, and false miracles,. for the pur-
pose of suddenly converting them to Catholicism, in the ab-
sence, without the knowledge, and contrary to the wish of
their parents.

" Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum !"—Lucret.
" Co!rumpere et corrumpi."_Tacit.

The following is the Petition of Mr. Loveday:
TO THE MEMBERS OF THE CHAMBER or DEPUTIF.S.

I am a foreigner ; I came to Prance on the faith of treaties'
and under the protectiki of the law of nations. I have faith
fully observed the laws of the country ; and yet my most sacred
rights and dearest Facetious have been violated : and amidst the
misfortune that overwhelms me, I find no authority to which I
can turn for protection. I am reduced to the necessity of ap-
pealing to the first body of the State—to lire Deputies of the
French Nation—to obtain the satisfaction to which I am en-
titled.

I ain an Englishman and a PrOfesfapt ; and I came to
France in MI6, confidently relying on the 'peace which existed
be6veen the two Nations. I became a proprietor on the faith of
the laws which permit foreigners to acquire property, and I
even obtained from his Majesty the enjoyment of the civil rights,
which relieved me from the-law of reciprocity. I carried with
me to France my two children, in order to educate them,
on the faith of a Legislature which professed to protect all doc-
trines, and without foreseeing the possibility that any religious
intrigue might forcibly separate me from a part of my family.
My hopes have been deceived. Men ;'* profess to be Con-
verters, have depiived me of a.7,e of my. daughters in the bloom
of life. A conve)nt,"of.roer a: haunt, withdraws her from my
tenderness and My counsels ; I am prohibited from seeing her ;
no magistrate is willing to assist me. lam reduced to despair.
Deign to listen to me.
I ,have two daughters, who were the pride of their father,
and who inspired me with ithe most gratifying hopes. The
graces of youth, the endowments of nature, the fortune which
awaited them, every advantagi which seemed calculated to en-
sure their happiness and my own, served only to tempt the
false zeal of those who have snatched them from me, and to
hurl one of them into the abyss, whence I am vainly striving to
rescue her.

Being obliged to return to England,in June, 1816, I placed
my daughters in a boarding-school kept by Mademoiselle
Ernestine Reboul, of whose rectitude and virtue I had received
the highest character. I believed 'by confidence to be well
placed ; and in this persuasion I sent to the same establishment
my niece, the eldest daughter of my:brother, the Governor of
Benares, and a Major-General in the British army.

It was expressly agreed!ulion WlthPe mistrsss of the board-
ing•school, that the education of tfiy children was to be con-
fined solely to accomplishments , and Mademoiselle Moil]
entered into a solemn engagement not to endeavour in any way
to disturb the religious faith in which they had been brought-up.

Without apprehensidn concerning their fate, I remained in a
deceitful security ; while unlier the cloak of a sacred promise
the confidence of a wretched father was abused.

In July, 1821, 1 wrote to my.daughters, informing them
that on my return to Paris I intended to take them from the
school. I then received from Mademoiselle Reboul a letter, in
which she complained of the injury her interests would sustain
by my removing all the three young ladies at once. She begged
that 1 would at least leave my niece, who is younger than my
daughters, to finish her education ; and she added, that I
should do her injustice if I entertained any apprehension on the
score of religion.—(Letter dated August 7, 1821.)—Thus she
endexhmred to set my conscience at rest at the very moment
when, as it will be seen, she was perverting that of my children !
I entertained no distrust. On my return to Paris, in the
month of September, questioned my daughters, as I was ac-
customed to do, concerning their religious principles. Already
initiated in the art of dissimulation, they replied, with apparent
sincerity, that they followed the religion in which they had
been educated.

I soon explained to them some views which I had formed re-
specting them ; and then fell the veil which had hitherto con-
cealed the dark intrigue, and I beheld the full extent of a mis-
fortune which I had not even suspected.
On the 23d of October, my two daughters declared to me
that they were Roman Catholics, and that their firmness and
faith were not to be shaken !

The feelings which this terrible avowal excited in my mind
may be better conceived than described ! My confidence was
deceived, my family seduced, and the rights which religion,
nature, and the law had given me, were violated. As a Prd-
testant, my conscience was wounded in its most sensible points;
as a father, my heart was lacerated in its tenderest affections ;
all my notions of religion, honour, liberty, and justice, revolted
at the idea of so cruel a violation of the most veneiable and
sacred rights.
Still, however, I moderated My feelings, and entered uppn a
correspondence with my children ; and I now learned the ex-
treme degree in which their youth, inexperience, and credulity,
had been imposed on.
~Their conversion had been effected in the space of a fort-
night ! And what had they learned ? What idea had they
acquired of the new dogmas in which they had been initiated ?
Odious superstition, which seems destined to plunge France
once more into the gloom of ignorance and the horrors of fana-
ticism ! Deputies of a nation on which such brilliant lights
have shone, and which has given birth to so many great men,
would you credit it ? It is the history of a Jew and a prosti-
tute tormented by the apparition of a bleeding Host suspended
over their heads ; Such are the ridiculous fables, the absurd
miracles, worthy to adorn the legends of a people degraded by
superstition, which imbecility and deception' can alone believe
and promulgate ; and which the enlightened followers of your
religion reject with indignation and contempt ; these are the
lessons which mistaken or designing men•teach their unfortu-
nateproselytes—such is the doctrine which they inculcate !
Not satisfied with raking up the shameful monuments of fa-
naticism and ignorance, they seek to render the present'age the
accomplice of-their gross errors and impious designs ; and the
account of the pretended miracles now performing at Amiens is
one of .the means which have been resorted to to work on the
minds of my daUghters.

Abusing the most sacred weapons, these converters revived
in the recollection of my daughters certain passages of Scrip-
ture ; and by the aid of the holy text, thus perverted by their

Worthless masters, my uttfortutiate children disputed with their
father the sacred authority which he received from God.

I determined to remove them. For the space of a week I
persevered in addressing to them such arguments as I thought
best calculated to produce an impression on them. I found
imaginations exalted—spirits awed by the image of ever-,
lasting :damnation—souls subdued and exhausted•by, supersti.
- •
tious terrors !

I had the happiness to succeed with my youngest daughter.
I redoubled my efforts with respect to the eldest ; but in vain.
The lessons she had received had left the deepest impression on
her mind,

Still I could not believe that Mademoiselle Reboul, the mis-
tress of the school, had knowingly.been an accomplice in these
infamous gonvertons ; and, in letters dictated by her, my
daughter
.succeeded in persuading me that she had taken no part
in the affair.

Under this conviction, I suffered my niece to remain seven
days longer in the boarding-school. Being younger than my
daughters, the work of iniquity had not yet been consummated
with respect to her ; but I soon learned a lesson from fatal ex-
perience. My intention of removing her was known ; the'przy
was about to escape from those who had seized it ; they availed
themselves of the time which I afforded them, led on as I was
by a blindness with which I reproach myself, and a fatality
which I could not resist. • _ __ • •

I removed my daughters on the -3d of -November. On the
sth my niece was baptized; on the 6th confirmed; on the 13th
she communicated. "In four days (said she to me) 1 have
performed the most important actions of my life, which-require
months of reparation !" .
I return to my eldest daughter, and I henceforth abstain from
all reflection ; the facts speak sufficiently. - •
On the 10th of November . she left my house clandestinely,
while all the family was asleep, leaving a note, in which she ap-
pointed to meet me at Mademoiselle Reboul's. Thither I went.
Mademoiselle RehOul affected the most perfect ignorance
that had happened ; and, joining insult to perfidy, she re-
proached me in the most offensive manner. with having taken
away my children. At this moment she received a letter from
my daughter, which stated that she would not come to her
house ; that she was in a place of safety, and was happy.
1 had intercepted some letters from my daughter, and had
found that she maintained a correspondence with some person
whose name I have not been able to discover. In vain I de-
manded from MadernoiSelle who this person was ; 'I could only
learn that my daughter had made hinia .present, which the
mistress charged- to her account. I was not able to learn of
what this present consisted ; my daughter in a letter to Ma-
demoiselle Reboul said that she hoped he had been present-
ed with her heart, referring to the person before alluded to.
I know not 'what mystic,meaning is concealed in these obscure
words.

Let any one picture to himself the mortal anguish which I
felt respecting the fate of my daughter. The next morning I
returned to Mademoiselle Reboul ; I conjured her to inform
me what had become of my child--to tell me whether she was
living or dead. The prayers of a despairing, father had not
power to reach her heart : she replied that my daughter
had eloped from her house, and that I might seek her where
I pleased.
- This insensibility did not permit me any longer to doubt that
Mademoiselle Reboul had sported with my credulity, and that
she had herself managed the intrigue of which I was the vic-
tim. 1 removed my niece from the school. I was then i,gnor-
ant that she had received three sacraments in four days ! I suc-
ceeded in making her confess the whole truth. I learnt that
from the moment when Mademoiselle Reboul was aware of my
determination to remove my children, she began to work on
their minds, holding out to them the prospect of damnation, if
they did not embrace the Catholic religion. Mademoiselle Re-
boul soon betrayed herself. She wrote to my niece, and the
letter fell into my hands. • It was filled with hypocritical coun-
sels, and the most, reprehensible insinuations. The conduct of
this worthless woman was exposed, and the abuse of confidence
of which she had been guilty completely proved.
The mind of my unfortunate niece was in a most pitiable
state. Tormented by ideas of profanation and sacrilege—per-
suaded that she could not escape the punishments of the world
to come--assailed by terrors which haunted her in the night,
and prevented her from enjoying rest—possessed by the gloomy
despair of superstition, she wished to abandon father, mother,
sister, rank, and fortune. Such was the terrible result of the
suggestions to which she had been exposed.
From this moment I knew the whole extent of the plot which
had deprived me of a part of my family. Some letters which I
possess,and others which I haveplaced in the hands of the King's
Attorney, . and. which that magistrate doubtless will not refuse
to return to me, informed me what springs had been set in mo-
tion, what perfidious stratagems had• been resorted to.
Infamy doubtless belongs to crime; not to the courageous
voice of the accuser, or the complaint of the victim ! However,
I shall abstain from mentioning names which I believe to be.
respectable. I will not exhibit in my sad story princes of the
church, prelates placed near the throne ! One of them especially,
who has been represented to me as the principal author of my
misfortunes. I spare religion and morality the shame of being
introduced into those scenes of infamy.
I made useless efforts to- recover my daughter. I applied to
an advocate, who promised to speak to the King's attorney.—
In the mean time, I received a letter from my child, which bore
the post-mark of Amiens. It being perceived that I was not
the dupe of this pretended removal of my daughter, and that I
was about to apply for the aid of the English Ambassador to
discover the place of her concealment, I received, at the expira-
tion of a- fortnight, another letter which bore the post-mark of
Ostend. At the same time, a letter from my niece, which I
had intercepted, gave me reason to suppose that my daughter
had retired into an association called ' La Maternite, ou les En-
fans trouves' (the Foundlings); but I do not very distinctly re-
collect this particular. I transmitted these letters to the King's
Attorney, and received an answer from that magistrate. He
had inquired into the affair. He told me that Mademoiselle Re.,
boul had acted fairly. He observed that my daughter was 21
years of age, and added that it was a delicate and difficult affair.
I was a father, and I was applying to the Magistrate, whom
the law charges to protect me, for assistance to recover my
daughter ! 1 may spare my reflections : you must have anti-
cipated them.

. I found in the Commissary of Police, of the first arrondisse-
ment, to whom 1 made my declaration, the zeal which 1 had in
vain sought for elsewhere. 110 called on the King's Attorney,
and returned himself to inform me that that Magistrate would
come to an explanation with the Prefect of Police. At the
same time I had recourse to the English Ambassador. A se-
paration of 35 years had not effaced me from his recollection. I
found in him a protector, a friend. 1 was consoled, and my
hopes revived.
Time, however, gave birth to new alarms. I uselessly await-
ed the effects of the protection due to me from the French 111a-
g;stracy- ; and I received from the English Embassy a piece of
information, on the Bth of December, which made me forget
all my previous misery.
Sir. Vaughan, the Secretary of the Ambassador, informed
me that my daughter was found. She was in the hands of M.
klerningliam, a gentleman whose family was originally English;
a Catholic, but one of those men who honour a religion which
so many.others abuse, and who absolve it from the crimes which
are committed in its name.

My daughter did not hesitate. to deliver herself up to him,
because he was a Catholic; but her heart was now so hardened,
that she would no lonr er. acknowledge her father, because he
professed a different faith !
Jerningham delivered her up to me on the evening of the
12th of December ; but she refused to accompany me. Until
one o'clock in the morning, I remained waiting. for her at the
rate, endeavouring to overcome her repugnance through the me-
diation of her brother. Tenderness and authority, prayers and
commands, all were unavailing. The voices of those who had
seduced her still resounded in her heart; and superstition, which
hovered around her, armed her soul against the impressions of
nature.

Finally, at two o'clock in the morning, I extorted from her a
promise that she would go home with me at two in the after-
noon . a promise which she mentally disavowed, and secretly
swive to violate. Already was she skilled in the too-well-known
art. of her instructors, of making a cloak of the interests of
Heaven in order to break a promise. Upon this understanding
I left her to pass the night at the house of M. Jerningham.
Before the family rose she had succeeded in escaping: M.
Jermingham, . who had pledged himself to answer for her safe
keeping, threatened to denounce to the authorities all those who
had contributed to her elopement, if she were not brought back
to his house in two hours. The firmness of an honourable man
terrified the guilty : at two o'clock she was restored to him, and
at four he delivered her up to me.

Let it be judged whether I wished to exercise a tyrannic
controul over her conscience—whether I claimed too great an
authority. I promised not to constrain her in the exercise of
her new religion, and I kept my word. The next morning at
eight o'clock her brother accompanied her to the church of the
Assumption to hear mass. . At four o'clock I went out, hoping
that I bad taken from her all pretext for flying from me.
I deceived myself. In the evening she eloped for the third
time. During* three days I was ignorant of the place of her
ret:qat. On the.l7th of December I was put in possession of a
lettei, written by Maclaine Sophie, Superior of the con-
'Cent of, the Congregation de Notre Dame, Rue de. FeVres,
No. 6. The letter was addressed to an English lady. The Su-
perior stated, that a young person, Mademoiselle Emilia. Love-

. .
day, had .come to her esitablishmett to, .riaira hozpitality ; and
she (the'Superior) whiled to know what'her parents intended to
do for her

I sent, in consequence, my youngest daughter to the convent.
By accident she was dressed in same manner as her sister.
A. novice, named Cleinence, who apparently had. not yet been
instructed in the part she ought to play, exclaimed, upon seeing
her, that it must be her sister who had taken refuge in the con.
vent ! My wungest daughter. asked to. see her sister ;.but
Clemence ham* :reported this request to the Superiors, and
having learnt from them how indiscreet her frmikness had been,
returned to my youngest daughter, and informed her that she
.had been .deceived, and that the young-person of whom she had
intended to spea'e had been for a long time in the convent, and
was not more than 15 years of age.
It was necessary to abandon these wretched subterfuges,
when the Superior was informed that her letter was in my pos-
session. She then confeSSed t: at my daughter was in her house.
Hitherto any person had been respected; but henceforth you
will behold me the object of vexations,- of which, however, I
woUldlict • complain' if they did not serve the better to make
known my persecutors ; wounded in the most powerful senti-
ment of nature, could I 1;6Se:1%11)1e of any thing which regarded
myself alone ?

On two following days :I went to the convent, and on both
occasions a father, who tiolight to recover his daughter, was ar-
rested by, the military force under the direction of a. Commissary
-of Police.

. Once'l was sent back after toy arrest, having vainly 'demand-
ed to be taken to the prefecture, in the hope of finding more jus-
tice and eoMpaSsiOn in a more elevated tribunal.
The secondlime the scene was still more remarkable. I was
aecompanied by my son, toy youngest daughter, and my niece.
.The door of the convent was shut against us, and we were coil-
stituted prisoners. The Commissary of Police arrived; he re-
mained shut up for three quarters of an hour with my daughter,
leaving me and my children in a chamber without a fire,
guarded •by soldiers.' 'l'll6 'Connnissary afterwards returned,
interrogated me, and went so far as to refuse tai insert in the.
proces verbal, which I was compelled to sign, all my answers,
and the terms in which they were made.
Finally, under four bayonets I secured to my daughter a.
pension to enable her to. remain in a house • which was ,
detained against my will !
, Have I not been sufficiently outraged ? And can I Feld ex-
pressions capable of characterising. such aesitnaticn ?
Gentlerhen, My 'statement will appear -pat' le:Credible ;
and yet how can
.you refuse to believe e father who corn-
plains of a child whom he 'fondly loves ? Is it not obvious that
his- heart must have been.a thousand times torn -with anguieit -
before he :could speak an accusing word against her ?
daughter has become the instrument of the persecutions which 1
have described. -It was she, who desired the. Cothndssary of
Police to come; she uttered imprecations and calumnies
against her family. - When the bayonets surrounded me, Isaw
a smile on her • lips. Great God. ! How powerful must have,
been the Seductions exercised on my unfortunate child to'extin-
guish in, her all the sentiments of nature, to perveether heart,
And to bring her to that degree'Of insensibility that she could
insult by a smile the. sorrows and the despair of her 'father ?
Alas ! during the whole of her previous life, I had found her •
the model of virtue, aMetion, and filial piety ! •
My other visits to the convent, without being attended by the
same circumstances, were not less cruel. They-were limited to ;:t) >
minutes, and I was only permitted to see my child. threugh A
grating. Dining the greater part of this thort time,
not address a word to her ‘;' 1 save her surrounded by.perfidio773
counsellors ; I heard them uttering calumnies against me ; ar2,
to fill up. the measure of my anguish, these calumnies were re-
peated by my daughter!
• In vain didel request that a precise hour should be appointed
in which I could see her alone, without giving trouble to the ,
'Society., or deranging the conversations -destined to complete
her seduction. Even that favour I could not obtain.

I implored the civil. and religious Authorities ; I applied. is
the Prefect of the Police, but received no answer. I waked on
the Official ; from the 22d of December I solicited an audience
of the Archbishop, but could obtain nothing.
Such, gentlemen, is the relation of the greatest of iiiisfortu:.c
that can befal a father. lam ready to prove to you all that
have stated. I demand justice ; and surely my cause is sv
sacred, I cannot fail to obtain it from you.
My daughter is taken from.me—if not by violence; at least
by means still more dangerous, since the characters of these
means are less distinct, and they are therefore more difficult-to
be guarded against—by means which your laws do not punish
with less severity. The crime committed with respect to her
is the rapt de seduction,
And by whom has she been seduced? By the mistress 'of
the boarding school to whose care I intrusted her ! A base con
duct in the profession which she exercises !—an abuse of con!-
deuce more cruel than any other. else was to have been 7.
representative with my daughter, and she employed the autho
rity I had given her over my child to turn it against myself
She employed it for purpose of ~raining possession of her mirA!,
and filling it with terrors ; she kept me in a state of secarity
while she completed her work.: in contempt of the formal ea.:
gagement she had made on reqeiving my daughter froai srsy
hands, she took advantage of her credulity to inspire her with.
horror towards the religion which I had ;,,,iven.her, and towards
myself, and to make her the enemy of her faith, of her father,
of her family ; and thus is my child lost, perhaps for ever, to
him to whom she owes her birth !

Am Ito be told that my daughter is of age? She is; bet
she became 'so at school.; she vas underage when I intrusted
her to IVademoiSelle Reboul she was under age when the
plans of seduction commenced, when her mind was first im-
pressed with those principles which she too faithfully imbibed ;
she was a young, inexperienced girl, seduced and abused, in
the absence of her father, by the very woman to whose care he
had confided her ! Is there a country on the earth where a deed
so infamous is not considered a crime worthy of all the hatred,
of men, and punishable with all the rigour of the laws ?
Sacrilege has been added to perfidy. Holy things have been
profaned ; that religion of which the mask has been borrowed,
is insulted by those who invoke it. In fifteen days my daegh•
ters became Catholics ; in four, a child of fourteen received in
succession sacraments which the greatest saints of our church
approach with terror !
No, no ! it is not for the service of religion that such conver-
sions are made ! it is to satisfy some ambitions desire, sonic
proselyting passion, and every means appears legitimate which
lead to this end ; crime itself is veiled under.the cloak of false
zeal—a garb so often snatched from off the instruments of thosesacrilegious intrigues, and with which they still seek to cover
themselves I

And how can religion pride itself in these pretended conver-
sions, obtained by means of the most deceitful stories, and the
most absurd miracles, which cannot be performed -without
brutalizing the minds which are to be acted upon ; without
perverting the heart ; without suilititating fanaticism and de-
lirium for natural feelings—in these works of darkness, of horror,
and deceit, which must recoil upon those with whom they have
originated !
The true convert does not need to mark his adoption of a new
religion by the disregard of social virtues and family duties !
He does not-abjure, along with his for Mer faith, the duty he
owes to the author of his bring ! He does rot purchase the
worthless applause of some fanatics, by meriting the contempt
of all men of sense and true piety- . •
The respect for paternal authority mixes itself with respect
for the Divinity. Filial piety is a religious duty, and the most
agreeable of all in the eyes of a beneficent Creator, who has
himself engraVed it on our hearts. In the eye of religion, as of
the world, paternal malediction is the. most terrible,ailliction.
This is the language of all times, all places, and all faiths. •
Here I not only invoke the interest of families, but of ee- .
ligion. It is not incredulity, but intolerance which gives it
the severest wounds. But I may venture to assert, that of all
known persecutions, no one is more cruel -than that whiell
point out—more capable of destroying the influence, of religtca
among men, who cease to be just when they arc 'driven to de-
spair, and - Cannot- distingnish- between religion itself and the
frightful abuse which is made of it:, • •
By all fathers my language will be understood. The dungeons
of the Inquisition-never plunged an unfortunate victim into a
agony of soul so terrible as feel at the idea of my daughter
being seduced from the faith of her ancestorstorn from rof
affection—and, to complete the horror ofniy recolleetioase de-
testing her &ther, who weeps for her errors, and only wishes to
pardon her.
If France tolerates so shameful a violation of all that men
hold most dear and sacred, foreigners must fly from this land.
It will be in vain to display to them its advantages and
claims to the admiration of other nations ; the man 'who fedi
his own dignity will never stop in a country.where the rights of
paternal authority are trampled under foot—where fanaticism,
penetrates into the bosom of families to disturb their peace--
where conscience is not allowed to be an impenetrable -sane- •
tuazy !
But one word more. Suppose th 6 son or the daughter of a
Catholic carried ofFfroin him by proceedings similar to those of
which I complain, and made to abjure CatholieisM, and egi
brace the Protestant religion. Could imprecations, anathernagi
strong enough be formed against an action so horrible ? ' Well!
Either liberty of worship' and equality of rights are empty
sounds, or the same horrorought to attach itself to the aet.whlch
1 have denounced.

Deputies of Franee,--Having seen my child torn from my
arms, the sentiments of -nature extinguished in her breast, the
sacred arm of religion turned against me, the authority which
cught to proted me hinte iii my defence, for a nion,.nt I felt
myself without resource for a moment I said to myself--'
There- is no longer any redress for, an injured; father in a- coon•
try which boasts of the virtues of hospitality.; —but I turn my
eyes towards th'e RepreSentatives of the Nation, and I Ftill haYd
hope., •• • • ..DOM-LAS 1,0 VEDA VI, 14
Paris, Dec.2B, Rue Godot, No. 1, Boulevert de la Madeleine.

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PUE . SUN.

SOLEM QUIS DICERE FALSUM AUDEAT

LONDON,
WEDNESDAY, LiNUARY 9, 1822.

We received this morning the Paris Journals
of Sunday, which bring no confirmation of the
report from Frankfort, which stated that the
Porte had accepted the Russian ultimatum; but,
.on the contrary, contain an article from Peters-
Aurgh, in which city it was considered that war
-Was inevitable. No business of any importance
lits been transacted in the French Chamber of
deputies since the presentation of the Law Pro-
.
Ject on the Periodical Press ; and it is supposed
that there w ill be no Public Sitting till the close of
this week, when the Committee, charged with
the examination of that Project, will be ready
to make their-Report.

. -
It is some time since we stated, on the autho-
rity of information entitled to credence, that the
stock: of food required for the sustenance of the
Irish. peasantry, is very deficient, in consequence
of the failure of the potatoe crops. This alarm-
ing and deplorable fact is confirmed by the Cork
-itiviertiser, received this morning, which attri-
butf?s the
.scarcity to three causes :—First, that
tile low prices of potatoes, during the preceding
Years, not having remunerated the farmer for the
labour and cost of producing them, the cultiva-
tion of the crop was discouraged, and a.much less
quantity of land was planted than usual.- Se-
condly, that the productiveness of the last year,
'Ai the number of acres actually cropped, was
cansiderably below the average of former years.
'thirdly, that the extreme wetness of the season
lied destroyed a great portion of the otherwise
defective produce, by causing quantities of the
Potatoes to rot in the ground before they were
dug) and afterwards in still greater quantities in
the Pits. To avert as far as possible the dread-
ful visitation of famine, the Cork Paper recorn-
odds the strictest economy in the use of pota-
toes,—the substitution of bread, rice, and other
articles, in the place of potatoes, in the families
of_ the opulent and middle classes the rigorous
WithhOlding of potatoes from swine and cattle,—
"(I, above all, the extensive cultivation of early
er°Ps of this important article of colsurnption,
4° as to bring the resources of the current
year as soon as possible into action.—We beg
leave to- suggest further, that Government
should institute an immediate inquiry for the
Purpose of ascertaining the actual extent of the
`NI, and should take prompt and adequate
measures for averting that frightful aggravation
°l.Abe existing disorders in Ireland, which must
attend the progress of famine. Outrages continue
t° be perpetrated on an extensive scale, little or
110
impression having been produced on the minds
the infatuated peasantry by the proceedings of
the Special Commission, and the awful spectacles
presented in the executions of the convicted In-
.34rgents ; and we tremble to think of the conse-
%knees, if the disturbers should he rendered
still more ferocious by want and despair. Of
the three causes for the scarcity noticed by the
erk Paper, it is obvious that the second and
0 '4l are aggravated by the first. This, there-
'tlre, is one practical illustration of the modern
fa
• sinonable doctrine that abundant harvests are an
evil
') and that it is an evil " against the inconve-
Ilkuces of which no law can provide." Ireland,
tt appears, was of late years cursed with plenty,
4141 the plenty was so grievous that it has led to
ise opposite curse of scarcitg.—The same process
•
in action, we are told, in England. The Agri-I
as the
Yteport points to a diminution of' produce,
the means by which the farmers can most ef-
fectually• obtain relief. 'Are we to suffer the
t 44
ses which are leading to this disastrous result,
remai9 in action, without attempting the ap-
Alie
ation' of a corrective ?--If we do, we must,
t:e the peasantry of Ireland, pass. through a
it son of scarcity, before many years are over,
We are not doomed to undergo the horrors.of
l
amine.

11 -ANISGATE DINNER.—We arc desired by Mr.
giA4E) who acted as Vice• President at the Dinner
0t.v,,e4 on Thursday last, at Ramsgate, in honour
Jra
IA,TILLIAM CURTIS, to state that he did not
;,tier the words ascribed to him on that occasion,
Ivthat cc he hoped what had been reported
touald in a short time be realised, that is, that the
troltri would be made a Corporate one, and distinct
I 4 any other, and have an efficient Police."