The Sun.
London, England, 1832-10-05 00:00:00

ILLUSTRATIONS OF POLITICAL

ECONOMY.
NO. VIII. COUSIN MARSHALL-NO. IX. IRELAND.

TALES BY HARRIET AIARTINEAU-LONDON, 1832.

These are two of a series of most important
volumes on the subject they are meant to illus-
trate. Miss Martineau's plan of conveying in-
struction of this kind in popular tales, is as well
executed in its details as it was original in its
conception. The doctrines she lays down are
for the most part sound, and, although we some-
times differ with her, the opinions she enter-
tains, if all implicitly received by those to whom
they are addressed, cannot fail to work a vast
improvement in Their minds. With every prin-
ciple laid down in the first volume, at the head
of our article, we entirely concur. Its object is
to show the evil effects of the poor laws, and
how these effects are brought about. Admir-
ably will it answer its purpose, for we feel satis-
fied that ninety-nine men out of a hundred, who
read the book, even if they have had their eyes
shut to the lesson which every parish affords
them, will rise from its perusal convinced of the
truth of the principles it inculcates, melancholy
though the conclusions to which they lead us
be. The following is but too true a picture of
what too often takes place : .

" On one occasion when Mr. Burke was entering the
village of Titford, he overtook Mr. Effingham walking
slowly with his head bent down, -and his hands in his
pocket. He looked up when greeted by his friend; who
accosted him with—

" ' I am atraid you are to be one of my patients to-day,
to judge by your gait and countenance. What can be the
matter ? No misfortune at home, I hope ?'
" No ; but I have just heard something that has shock-
ed me very much. There is an execution at Dale's.'
" How hard that poor man has struggled!' observed
Mr. Burke. ' And has it even come to this at last ?'

" ' Even so ; and through no fault of his own that I can
see. They ale distraining for the rate.'
" Aye, that is the way, Effingham. Thus is our
pauper list swelled, year by year. It grows at both ends.
Paupers multiply their own numbers as fast as they can,
and rate-payers sink down into rate-receivers. This will
probably be Dale's fate, as it has been that of many little
farmers before him. And if it is, he will only anticipate
by a few years the fate of others besides small farmers, of
shopkeepers, manuracturers, merchants, and agriculturists
of every class; always providing that some radical amend-
ment of the system does not tike place.'
" God help us !' cried Effingham. If so, our se-
curity is gone, as a nation, and as individuals.'
" At present, Effinghatn, the security of property is
to the pauper, and not to the proprietor, however rich he
may be. The proprietor is compelled, as in the case be-
fore us, to pay more and more to the rate till his profits are
absorbed, and he is obliged to relinquish his undertakings
one after another; field after field goes out of cultivation,
his capital is gradually transferred to his wages-fund,
which is paid away without bringing an adequate return ;
and when all but his fixed capital is gone, that becomes
liable to seizure, and the ruin is complete. There is no
more security of property, under such a system, than there
is security of life to a poor wretch in a quicksand, who
feels himself swallowed up inch by incb. The paupers
meanwhile are sure of their relief as long ai the law sub-
sists. They are to be provided for at all events, let what
will become of other people. While Dale has been fretting
by day, and tossing by night under the burden of his rare,
his pauper labourers have been supporting a very different
kind of burden—the burden of the p super song,
Hang sorrow and cast away care,
The parish is bound tO find us !'

" This very security of property which is the most
precious of an independent man's rights,' said Effingham,
'seems to be the most pernicious thing in the world to the
indigent. One may fairly call it so in relation to them,
for they seem to consider the produce of the rate as their
property.'
"'lt is really so,' replied Burke. They know it to
be the lawful property of the pauper body, and that the
only question is bow it is to be distributed ? As long as
they know this, they will go on multiplying the claims
upon it till nothing is left with which to satisfy them.'
"'lt is very odd,' said Effingham 'that none of the
checks that have ever been tried have done any good ; they
seem rather to have made the matter worse.'

"'I do not think it strange, Effingham. None of the
remedies have struck at the root of the evil, and none
could therefore effect lasting good. The test is just thi'
do they tend to lessen the number of the indigent ? Un-
less they do this, they may afford relief to a generation, or
shift a burden from one district to another, or from one
class of producers upon another ; but they will not itn-
p rove the system.'"

The fields going out of cultivation, here enu-
merated as among the consequences of the poor
laws, might in part be fairly attributed to the un-
certainty of the farmer's market, occasioned by
the corn laws ; but to what follows we have no
exception to make. The friends, after remarking
on the inefficacy of every plan of relief yet tried,
thus continue the conversation :

" Aye ; there is the mistake, Effingham. People
think they give relief in giving money.'
" I seldom give money,' replied Effingham.
" No ; hut you give what money will buy, which is,
begging your pardon, worse than ineffectual. Now, if
you have no objection, I should like to know how much
you spent on coals and blankets the first Christmas you
settled here, and how much last year ?'
" I began with devoting five pounds a-year to this
purpose ; but it increased sadly. I stopped short two
years ago at twenty pounds; but it grieved me to the
heart to do so, for more objects now remain unsupplied
than I supplied at first.'
" Probably ; and are these new applicants strangers
from other parishes brought round you by your bounty, or
are more of your near neighbours in a condition for receiv-
ing charity ?'
" Dale reproaches me with having brought an inun-
dation of paupers from a distance; but really our own
population has increased wonderfully.'
" ' And the more support you offer them, friend, the more
surprisingly they will increase, if there can be anything
surprising in the case. Surely you do not mean to go on
giving coals and blankets?'
What can I do? You would call me cruel to
withdraw the gift, if you could see the destitution of the
poor creatures. lam completely at a loss how to proceed.
If I go on, poverty increases ; if I stop, the people will
freeze and pine before my eyes. What a dilemma !'
" Much like that of government about its pauper
subjects. I should recommend the same method to both.'
" To fix a maximum, I suppose ;to declare the
amount beyond which relief shall not be given ? I have
cried that, and it does not succeed. Twenty pounds a_year
is my maximum, and is known to be so ; but every one
hopes to have a portion of it, and reckons upon his share
nearly as confidently as if all were sure of it.'
" Of course; and there is the additional evil of ad-
mitting the principle of a claim to support, which is at
the bottom of the mischief.—No; to fix a maximum is
to unite the evils of the maintenance and the abolition of
the pauper system; and both are bad enough singly. If I
were you, and if I were the government, I would imme-
diately disavow the principle in question, and take mea-
sures for ceasing to act upon it. If I were you, 1 would
explain to my neighbours that, finding this mode of cha-
rity create more misery than it relieves, I should discon-
tinue it in the way which appears to inflict the least hard-
ship. I would give notice that, after the text Christmas
donation, n 3 more coals and blankets shall be given except
to those aged and sickly people who at present look for
them ; and that no new applicants whatever shall be placed
on the list, the object being to have the charity die out as
soon as possible.'

But I should be railed at wherever I turn my face.
I should not wonder if they pull my house about my ears.
They will rob my poultry-yard, and burn my ricks. They

ss s Very like the situation of government !' exclaimed
Mr. Burke. The very same difficulties on a smaller
scale. Friend, you must bear the railing for a time, since
it comes as a natural consequence of what you have already
done. I atn sure so benevolent a man as you would rather
endure this personal inconvenience than add to the misery
around you. You are capable of heroism in retrieving a
mistake,.Effingham. As for your house and other pro-
firtycloUtinust take measures to protect it. You must
firmly iiii*Aeptly repress tendencies to violence which
arise, as yOrl•iltovv perceive from an error of your own.'
" ' I will consider, resolve, and act; and that without
delay, for the evil is pressing,' said Effingham.
" ' I wish government would do the same,' replied Zr.

Burke. 'liesti much of consideration, but the resolve
is yet to be made ; and how long the act may be in follow-
ing, it is impossible to guess. Meanwhile, we are going
headlong to ruin as fast as you would do if you answered
all the petitions for charity which would be brought upon
you by unbounded readiness to give. Your private fortune
would be gone in a twinkling, and so will vanish our
national resources.'

" ' What period would you fix for abolishing the rate?'
" The best plan, in my opinion, yet proposed, is this :
—to enact that no child horn from any marriAge taking
place within a year fi orn the date of the law, and no illegi-
timate child horn within two years from the same date,
shall ever be entitled to parish assistance. This re.ttilation
should be made known, and its purpose explained univer-
sally ; and this, if properly done, might, I think, prevent
violence, and save a vast amount of future distress. Thef
peop'e should be called together, either in their places o
worship or elsewhere, in such a manner as to attract the
whole population to listen, and the case should be explained
to them by their pastors or others. It is so plain a case,
and so capable of illustration, that I see no great difficulty
in making the most ignorant comprehend it.'
" ' And yet the details are vast.'
" Vast, but not complicated ; so the whole might be
conveyed in a parable which any child can understand. I
think I dare undertake to prove to arty rational being that
national distress cannot he relieved by money, and that
consequently individual distress cannot be so relieved with-
out inflicting the same portion of distress elsewhere. A
child van see that if there is so much breath in a country
and no more, and if the rich give same of the poor 2s. a
day that they may eat more bread, the price of bread will
rise, and some who could buy before must' go without
now. Since no more bread is created by this charity,
the only thing done is to take some of it out of the reach
of purchasers to give it to paupers.'
'" True : the only real charity is to create more bread ;
and, till this can be done, to teach mea to be frugal of what
they have.'"

We have taken up so much space with the
first of these volumes, that we cannot give so
much as we could wish to the second. We the
more regret this, as there are certain parts of it
upon which it was our intention to offer some
observations adverse to the principles Miss Mar-
tineau lays down. The authoress has given a
very vivid sketch of some of the evils which
afflict Ireland, the system of' middlemen, joint
tenancies, a double set of clergy, &c., but we are
somewhat at issue with her as to the remedies to
he applied to them. We have already stated it
as our opinion that a temporary poor law, to be
limited in its advantages to parties now married
or who remain single, was essential as a prelimi-
nary to any improvement in the condition of the
people of Ireland. We acknowledge such a law
to be against principle ; but we would only have
it temporary, and the state of Ireland is such
that immediate relief is wanted. Miss Mar-
tineau would give that relief in the shape of
assistance to emigration, acknowledging, how-
ever, that it is equally against principle, and
only to be justified by the necessity of the
case. We should be well content to see either
mode of relief, accompanying proper legislative
measures for the permanent welfare of that fine
country ; but our opinion is, that relief in the
shape of public assistance to emigration would
throw the burden upon those who ought not to
bear it,—upon those who are innocent of having
brought on any part of the evil of over-popu-
lation, or who have exerted themselves to remove
it in-their private capacities. We cannot quite
concur either in the conclusion at which Miss
Martineau arrives in the following passage, at
the end of the volume, in her summary of prin-
ciples illustrated in it :—" The imposition of a
church establishment on those who already sup-
port another church, intercepts the due reward of
labour, by taking from the labourer a portion
of his earnings for an object from which he
derives no benefit r' It is true the Catholic
labourer may derive no benefit from the preaching
of the Protestant clergyman, but it is not true
that he pays any portion of his earnings to him.
When paid, tithe is a deduction from the land-
lord's rent ; when not paid, the landlord receives
it in the shape of increased rent. This is so
plain that we cannot help being surprised at a
writer like Miss Martineau, clear-headed as she
has proved herself to be, falling into the error of
supposing that tithe is paid by the labourer.
The following picture of an Irish auction, or cant,
as it is called, for the sale of three small lots of
land, would amuse, were it not for the melan-
choly feelings such an exhibition of extortion on
the one hand, and improvidence on the other, is
calculated to excite
" They were just in time to take a survey of the lots
before bidding. There was a small choice of advantages ;
for the preceding tenants, knowing that they need not hope
for a renewal, and that the mode of letting by cant would,
in ail probability, turn them out of the place, had ex-
hatrted the land to the utmost for the 1 Ist two or three
years. This measure not only gave them as much as they
could obtain for the time, but afforded a chance of getting
the lot back again on cheaper terms. The excessive coin-
petition which is usual on such occasions, however, made
this last hope a very doubtful one. The only thing that
was certain beforehand was, that the affair would prove a
very bad bargain to all parties :—to the landlord, because
his land was nearly ruined, and little rent would, therefore,
be paid, however much was promised ; to the successful
bidder, because he would be unable to fulfil his absurd
promises about the rent, and be therefore liable to driving,
distraint, or ejectment; and to the unsuccessful bidders,
because they had come a great way, full of hopes and visions
of being able to settle on the land, and must return desti-
tute as they came, and disappointed.
" A crowd surrounded the man of power, as soon as he
appeared on the ground. Many an offering had he hail
that morning of dutiful service, of overstrained civility, or
of something more substantial, from those who could af-
ford it, with the hope of inclining him to favour their par-
ticular bid. The most diversified claims to a preference
were whispered into his ear, or exhibited before his eyes,
wherever he went. One had picked up the landlord's
heir, when thrown by his pony into a bog in childhood ;
another had had the honour of lodging the agent, one
stormy night among the mountains. One limped osten-
tatiously before Mr. Flanagan, to remind him that the
lameness happened from one of the landlord's fences hav-
ing fallen upon him, while dozing beneath its shelter ;
another, a feeble old man, pleaded a yet unfulfilled promise
of a Mr. 'f racey, who had been in his grave nearly thirty
years.
,4 Mr. Flanagan took no further notice of all this than
to bid the people get out of his way. From many a clutch
did disengage his skirts; on many a petition, savoured
with he
tha scent of potheen, did he turn his back ; many a
venerable blue top-coat, and gray cloak, did he elbow from
his side, before he could proceed to business. When once
begun, it required an eye as practised, and an ear as inured
as his, to distinguish that any business was proceeding,
amidst the hubbub of voices, the shoving, jostling, and
scrambling, which took place while the bidding went on.
The confusion fairly baffled some lookers on, who stopped
their horses on the outskirts of the crowd to observe the
scene. Mr. Alexander Rosso, just from college, his bro-
ther Henry, and a foreign gentleman, a college friend of
the former, were taking their morning ride, surrounded
by their dogs, when it occurred to Alexander, that this
was the occasion on which to exhibit to his friend the re-
semblance between the Irish and his countrymen. He
was scarcely aware that the occasion on which the people
were assembled was similar to that which often collects
the Italian peasantry in groups, to contend with equal ve-
hemence for slips of land, which they hold on the same
terms. The Irish cottier is of the same class with the
dvemrmiddlemen
r ea rwe ,h Aavti
is natural
fneawtuerxacieptotions,
ex-
pect men to be under circumstances of strong temptation
The Italian gentleman, after gazing with fixed
used an expressive gesture, to intimate that
some minutes,
alikeit
etaYaeirl
oppressionot hf eltwa
aloyar daonof absolute impunity.
attention, and an amused expression of countenance, for
he could make nothing of it.
4, The first lot is disposed of, Henry, is it not?' asked

Alexander. That half-nitkcil, capering fellow bid
highest. I think.'
" ' Yes,' replied Henry ; and he looks as if he hail
just had the mines of Peru given him.'
" 'He !' exclaimed the foreigner, in astonishment.
and how will he pay ?"

" No one will pay all,' replied Henry, laughing. The
agent can only weigh probabilities ; and if he happens to
know that that poor fellow hat; a little coin hidden some-
where, to help him on for a year or two, he will stop at
his bidding as the highest.'
" But why stop ? Is it not the people's part to stop?'
" ' We might wait long enough for that,' replied Alex-
ander. ' They will bid against each other till midnight.
They will offer a hundred per annum per acre rather than
lose their chance of getting the land. Our people are very
rich in promises.'
" ' And how much has the ragged man promised ?'
" Flanagan !' shouted Henry, above the din, which
sank to silence in a moment, ' how much has your first
lot brought you ?' •
" ' Nine pounds per acre, Sir, and yonder stands the
tenant.'

" The successful bidder came forward, smiling and scrap-
ing, not a whit ashamed of the bare knees which had burst
through what had once been breeches, or of the tatters
which were bound about his person, in various directions,
by hay-ropes, there being no other way of keeping them
together.
" ' Ask him,' urged the eager foreigner, ' ask him
where his pounds are to come from, and why he wishes
to be a farmer.'

" There is most likely a lady in the case,' ob-
served Henry; and then turning to the man, he inquired
whether he had not done a very daring thing in engaging
to pay so high a yearly sum ?
" God save your honour kindly, the mother is turned
out of her own, beyond there ; and its a cabin I'm wish-
ing to give her, old creature as she is, and a bite and sup
with me.'

" And is there nobody else, friend, likely to be your
cabin. keeper ?'
" The man's countenance fell, and he ieplied that there
was to have been one last Shrovetide, but that she was
forcibly carried off, and married to another man, before he
could overtake her. Henry turned the subject lustily,
shocked at his own curiosity, which had led to such a dis-
closure. He asked the min whether he could honestly
say that lie had a week's provision beforehand for his
mother and himself? The tenant laughed and pointed
to his new ground, saying that they might glean potatoes
enough among the ridges, after the digging, to keep them
for a few days till they could look about them a bit. His
mother moreover had a cow, and a slip of a pig. He
ended by bewitchingly asking for the blissen' on his en-
terprise. The foreigner was amused to observe that in
Ireland a blessing comes out of the pocket instead of the
mouth ; not that the verbal blessing is absolutely worth-
less ; but it is considered merely as an accessory to some-
thing more substantial.
" The process of giving the blessing quickened the bid-
ding, as it was feared the gentlemen might leave the ground
before the next successful candidate was ready to pay his
smiling service. The lot was awarded to Dan, who, after
tossing up his hat, advanced towards the horsemen, fol-
lowed by his father-in-law. They observed to one another
that he looked better qualified than his predecessor to pay
rent, his dress being decent, and his manner betokening
snore forethought and experience.
" Have you an old mother to find a shelter for, too?'
inquired Alexander.
" ' There's the mother and the father too that's to the
fore,' replied Dan, turning to introduce Sullivan.
" And the darling too that's been his wife almost since
the sun rose,' added Sullivan. Dan has had the priest's
blessing this morn, and sure your honours' won't be long
in following?'
" I would have married in the evening, Dan, if I had
been you,' said Henry. ' The land first, and then the
girl, is the prudent way, you know. How would you have
managed, if you had had the girl without the land ?'
" Dan could not pretend to guess what Providence's
other way of providing for him and Dora would hive
been ; the actual case was as much as any man had to do
with. This reasoning put him in the actual case of re-
ceiving a large blessing from the foreigner, who then rode
off with his companions, notwithstanding the vehement
prayers of the crowd that they would stay till the third
and last lot was disposed of. They had neither time nor
further blessing to spare this day. They did not, how-
ever, escape by turning their backs. The third new
tenant was posted in the middle of their road homewards,
and on their approach, extended his arms, as if to embrace
the three horses with their riders, praying for an i nfinity
of blessings on their merciful and tender and bountiful
hearts, and expressing his expectation that he should begin
the world with a trifle from their honours, like Pat and
Dan.

" See what you have done, Henry,' said his brother.
► We shall be expected to pay tribute, henceforward, to
every ne►v tenant, as often as a cant takes place within
twenty miles.'
" Henry set himself seriously to explain that their
bounty of this day was purely accidental, and that none
of the party meant to give again on a similar occasion.
He would nut dismiss the present applicant without a gift,
since his companions had had one ; but he gave him less
than the others, in order to enforce what he had said. The
man followed for some way, keeping close in their rear in
hope of their relenting, and then retired to the road side,
grumbling as if defrauded of a right.
" It is the most difficult thing in the world,' ob-
served Henry, to deal with these people; they have
such strange notions of right. Every favour is immedi-
ately considered as a precedent to be for ever acted upon :
every change in our methods of doing kindness is looked
upon as caprice, and every suspension of a gratuity as an
injury."'

HISTORICAL AND ANTIQUARIAN NO•

TICES OF CROSBY HALL.
BY E. J. CARLOS,

ONE OF THE COMMITTEE FOR THE PRESERVATION
OF THE STRUCTURE.

Sir John Crosby, an Alderman of London,
in the 15th century, built himself a magnificent
house in the city, in the year 1466. At his
death, a few years afterwards, it appears that the
Duke of Gloucester, afterwards Richard 111.,
occupied it for a short time ; hence Shakspeare's
reference to it. It was subsequently occupied
by different persons, principally merchants, till
it was destroyed by fire, upwards of 150 years
back. The hall, and an adjacent apartment,
escaped, and were let to a series of dissenting
preachers, till it was let to a packer about 1780,
who used it for the purposes of his business.
It continued to be appropriated to such humble
but useful purposes till last year, when the lease
expired. The poor old hall being now upon its
last legs, there was every probability o f the
owner pulling it down, and erecting counting-
houses and chambers in its place ; but seeing
how readily a little stir produced a subscription
to restore a tumble-down barn of a place, be-
cause it was called the Ladye Chapel (mark,
the word is spelt with a y and e,) whilst the
magnificent church to which it was attached
was comparatively neglected, seeing this, we
dare say he thought it would be no bad
thing to get the hall of Crosby House (which
may be spelt Crosbie) rebuilt, or restored, as
the phrase is, in the same manner. However
the thing originated, a meeting was got up at
the London Tavern, as we know meetings are
got up, and resolutions passed to form a com-
mittee to collect subscriptions to restore the
fabric, and appropriate the building to such
public object as the committee might deem ex-
pedient. Finally, one of the committee resolves
to write a book upon the matter ; but as the
great hall could not have much said of it after
f
tshavoef
ioagt
ruhrt,l
sptohdwi
dimensions,
hni
nstnhiogoet
ez.oei
it was
oAav
all
a:
tohrtnedl reiaci wets:
occupants
uag:p-v%
a: one
toomfiol of
the statement that it is 55 feet long by 27 broad,
ice
oaou rrpdbaiv
Crosbie House, and the renters of the hall,
from Sir John Crosbie, the account of whom is
certainly interesting, down to James Reliy, " the
founder of a sect called the Rellyanists, or Rel-
lyan Universalists, whose distinguishing enets

have received the name of Antihomianism," &c.
" He was buried in the Maze Pond burial-
ground, where there is an inscription to his
memory." This is wonderful. Having de-
scribed not only what stones remain of the hall,
hut what do not, the writer at last winds up
thus The last relic of Crosby-place to be
noticed is an elliptical arch, turned in brick,-
which was for•nerly situated at the southeast
corner of Crosby-square, and opening upon the
lane still existing, and which was referred to in
the grant to Bonvice. The style of the brick-
work will not warrant a date earlier titan the

17th century." Here is an interesting relic of
Crosbie-House for you. Dost thou wish to see
it, reader? Unhappy Wight, listen to its fate.
—" This archway has recently been removed,
and a breast-summer substituted, with architec-
tural decorations, worked in plaster !" So
much for Crosbie Hall. We understand that
the Committee propose to take it on lease from
the owner, if they can procure a sufficient sum to
put it into repair, and then turn it into a read-
ing-rcom, or something of that kind. If people
choose to give this money towards putting an old
room into repair; that gentlemen dwelling about
the labyrinth of lanes in the neighbourhood of
St. Helen's may have cheap reading, we can
have no objection to it; but we must say that
we see no reason why the remnant of Crosbie
Hall should not be left to the care of its pro-
prietor or lessees, as well as the remnants cf
many other private dwellings of equal antiquity
and interest in the same neighbourhood. What
we should say is, let those who have money to
spare upon such objects go to Westminster Hall,
a really national building, worth a million of
Crosbie Halls, let them examine its dilapidated
state, the surprise of foreigners and our own dis-
grace, and set on foot a subscription for restor-
ing it.