The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. 19, November 7, 1840Various
History
The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. 19, November 7, 1840
Various
Ireland -- Periodicals
Once in a great while they may be persuaded to perform a day’s labour,
but these are rare and painful occasions, always followed by regret and
repentance; and when their immediate wants are supplied, they return to
the luxurious and indolent repose, which is their second nature, and
which they enjoy in a perfection only appreciable by the Neapolitan
lazzaroni. When they have thus been compelled to pass a night under a
roof, it has been remarked that no human logic can persuade one of them
to submit to the abhorred contact of soap and water, or to sleep in a
bed, suppose any person could be found willing so to accommodate them.
They own no boats, and they neither hire nor borrow them. Such property
requires care and trouble, and rowing is laborious. A cow was once the
apex of their ambition; but hunger knocks often at their door, and was
fatal to poor Brindle. They are not rich enough to buy a gun. The conies,
partridges, snapping-tortoises, frogs, squirrels, and such small deer,
are their flocks and herds, and the earth produces wild artichokes and
other esculent roots. As for their religion, they believe in beef and
bread, and go to church, like parasitical insects, as often as they
are carried. They believe that the earth is flat, and that the city of
New York and the Narrows are its limits. To be hung up in a cage in
the sunshine, with licence to scratch themselves, and to be well fed,
constitutes their notion of heaven; and the county alms-house, where
able-bodied people are constrained to work, is the purgatory of their
imagination, or something worse. They think it is better to sleep than
to be awake, to lie than to sit, to sit than to stand, to stand than to
walk, and to walk than to run. Dancing is to them an incomprehensible
abomination. They own no lord, they heed no law. They have nothing,
and they want nothing. To cold, heat, rain, &c., they are perfectly
indifferent, and their only known evil is pain, which comes to them only
in the shape of hunger and intermittent fever. Nerves and delicacy they
never heard of. Thus have they ever lived, and thus they will die.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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