our starving countrymen; but some security against actual want is necessary before a man can cultivate his mind, or make any great improvement in morality: and a religious tract, however useful it may be in its proper place, is but an indifferent substitute for bread. ‘There exists a strong desire to convert the Catholics from the error of their ways; but what benefit could accrue from unsettling their faith, without improving their conduct, I am at a loss to know. Judging from that of the lower class of Protestants in Ireland, I do not think they would benefit much by the exchange. Whatever may be the difference between the two sects, the morality they teach is the same: therefore I think the better plan would be, to endeavour, by proper instruction, and humane usage, to make them good Catholics.’ ‘I perfectly agree with you on that point,’ said I; ‘for if some miraculous change does not take place in human nature, there must ever be a difference of opinion in religious matters; and that which has most influence on the conduct of its members must be the best. A man’s belief ought to be left to his own conscience. The mind in process of improvement, where it is left free and unbiassed, gradually opens on the truth, and spurns its former error; but force or undue influence creates prejudice, and raises an insurmountable barrier to its farther progress. All that seems wanting to your countrymen is relief from present misery, and instruction—then, if Protestantism is a better religion than their own, they will soon find it out. The energies of the Irish are at present dormant—they are enveloped, as it were, in the haze of morning; but when the sun does burst forth, theirs will be a glorious day.’ ‘Yes,’ said Mary, ‘they have in them the elements of a great people, and I am sure, were they used as they ought to be, they would be submissive and loyal to a fault. There never were hearts, if our rulers would let them, More form’d to be grateful and blest than ours! ‘It gives me the highest pleasure,—it does my heart good, to hear any one speak in liberal or kindly terms of my poor country.’ Struggling with the feelings which filled her bosom, unsolicited and spontaneously she burst forth into the melody of, Remember thee! yes, while there’s life in this heart, It shall never forget thee, all lorn as thou art: More dear in thy sorrow, thy gloom and thy showers, Than the rest of the world in their sunniest hours. Wert thou all that I wish thee—great, glorious, and free, First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea, I might hail thee with prouder, with happier brow, But, oh! could I love thee more deeply than now? No! thy chains as they torture, thy blood as it runs, But make thee more painfully dear to thy sons— Whose hearts, like the young of the desert-bird’s nest, Drink love in each life-drop that flows from thy breast.