rest of Europe is directly chargeable to the long wickedness of the
English Government.

A direct consequence of the present uncivilised state of Ireland is,
that very little English capital travels there. The man who deals
in steam-engines, and warps and woofs, is naturally alarmed by Peep-
of-Day Boys, and nocturnal Carders; his object is to buy and sell as
quickly and quietly as he can, and he will naturally bear high taxes
and rivalry in England, or emigrate to any part of the Continent, or
to America, rather than plunge into the tumult of Irish politics and
passions. There is nothing which Ireland wants more than large
manufacturing towns to take off its superfluous population. But
internal peace must come first, and then the arts of peace will
follow. The foreign manufacturer will hardly think of embarking his
capital where he cannot be sure that his existence is safe. Another
check to the manufacturing greatness of Ireland is the scarcity, not
of coal, but of good coal, cheaply raised--an article in which (in
spite of papers in the Irish Transactions) they are lamentably
inferior to the English.

Another consequence from some of the causes we have stated is the
extreme idleness of the Irish labourer. There is nothing of the
value of which the Irish seem to have so little notion as that of
time. They scratch, pick, dawdle, stare, gape, and do anything but
strive and wrestle with the task before them. The most ludicrous of
all human objects is an Irishman ploughing. A gigantic figure--a
seven-foot machine for turning potatoes in human nature--wrapt up in
an immense great-coat, and urging on two starved ponies, with
dreadful imprecations and uplifted shillala. The Irish crow
discerns a coming perquisite, and is not inattentive to the