"They'll learn all in good time."

"Let us hope it will be in good time."

"If we once let them have the idea that we are to feed them in idleness," said Mr. Townsend, "they will want to go on for ever in the same way. And then, when they receive such immense sums in money wages, the priests will be sure to get their share. If the matter had been left to me, I would have paid the men in meal. I would never have given them money. They should have worked and got their food.

The priest will get a penny out of every shilling; you'll see else."

And so the matter was discussed between them as they went along to Gortnaclough.

When they reached the room in which the committee was held they found Mr. Somers already in the chair. Priest McCarthy was there also, with his coadjutor, the Rev. Columb Creagh--Father Columb as he was always called; and there was a Mr. O'Leary from Boherbuy, one of the middlemen as they were formerly named,--though by the way I never knew that word to be current in Ireland; it is familiar to all, and was I suppose common some few years since, but I never heard the peasants calling such persons by that t.i.tle. He was one of those with whom the present times were likely to go very hard. He was not a bad man, unless in so far as this, that he had no idea of owing any duty to others beyond himself and his family. His doctrine at present amounted to this, that if you left the people alone and gave them no false hopes, they would contrive to live somehow. He believed in a good deal, but he had no belief whatever in starvation,--none as yet.

It was probable enough that some belief in this might come to him now before long. There were also one or two others; men who had some stake in the country, but men who hadn't a t.i.the of the interest possessed by Sir Thomas Fitzgerald.

Mr. Townsend again went through the ceremony of shaking hands with his reverend brethren, and, on this occasion, did not seem to be much the worse for it. Indeed, in looking at the two men cursorily a stranger might have said that the condescension was all on the other side. Mr. M'Carthy was dressed quite smartly. His black clothes were spruce and glossy; his gloves, of which he still kept on one and showed the other, were quite new; he was clean shaven, and altogether he had a shiny, bright, ebon appearance about him that quite did a credit to his side of the church. But our friend the parson was discreditably shabby. His clothes were all brown, his white neck-tie could hardly have been clean during the last forty-eight hours, and was tied in a knot, which had worked itself nearly round to his ear as he had sat sideways on the car; his boots were ugly and badly brushed, and his hat was very little better than some of those worn by the workmen--so called--at Ballydahan Hill. But, nevertheless, on looking accurately into the faces of both, one might see which man was the better nurtured and the better born. That operation with the sow's ear is, one may say, seldom successful with the first generation.

"A beautiful morning, this," said the coadjutor, addressing Herbert Fitzgerald, with a very mild voice and an unutterable look of friendship; as though he might have said, "Here we are in a boat together, and of course we are all very fond of each other." To tell the truth, Father Columb was not a nice-looking young man. He was red-haired, slightly marked with the small-pox, and had a low forehead and cunning eyes.

"Yes, it is, a nice morning," said Herbert. "We don't expect anybody else here, do we, Somers?"

"At any rate we won't wait," said Somers. So he sat down in the arm-chair, and they all went to work.

"I am afraid, Mr. Somers," said Mr. M'Carthy from the other end of the table, where he had const.i.tuted himself a sort of deputy chairman, "I am afraid we are going on a wrong tack." The priest had shuffled away his chair as he began to speak, and was now standing with his hands upon the table. It is singular how strong a propensity some men have to get upon their legs in this way.

"How so, Mr. M'Carthy?" said Somers. "But shan't we be all more comfortable if we keep our chairs? There'll be less ceremony, won't there, Mr. Townsend?"

"Oh! certainly," said Townsend.

"Less liable to interruption, perhaps, on our legs," said Father Columb, smiling blandly.

But Mr. M'Carthy was far too wise to fight the question, so he sat down. "Just as you like," said he; "I can talk any way, sitting or standing, walking or riding; it's all one to me. But I'll tell you how we are on the wrong tack. We shall never get these men to work in gangs on the road. Never. They have not been accustomed to be driven like droves of sheep."

"But droves of sheep don't work on the road," said Mr. Townsend.

"I know that, Mr. Townsend," continued Mr. M'Carthy. "I am quite well aware of that. But droves of sheep are driven, and these men won't bear it."

"'Deed an' they won't," said Father Columb, having altogether laid aside his bland smile now that the time had come, as he thought, to speak up for the people. "They may bear it in England, but they won't here." And the sternness of his eye was almost invincible.

"If they are so foolish, they must be taught better manners," said Mr. Townsend. "But you'll find they'll work just as other men do--look at the navvies."

"And look at the navvies' wages," said Father Columb.

"Besides the navvies only go if they like it," said the parish priest.

"And these men need not go unless they like it," said Mr. Somers.

"Only with this proviso, that if they cannot manage for themselves they must fall into our way of managing for them."

"What I say, is this," said Mr. O'Leary. "Let 'em manage for 'emselves. G.o.d bless my sowl! Why we shall be skinned alive if we have to pay all this money back to Government. If Government chooses to squander thousands in this way, Government should bear the brunt.

That's what I say." Eventually, Government, that is the whole nation, did bear the brunt. But it would not have been very wise to promise this at the time.

"But we need hardly debate all that at the present moment," said Mr.

Somers. "That matter of the roads has already been decided for us, and we can't alter it if we would."

"Then we may as well shut up shop," said Mr. O'Leary.

"It's all very aisy to talk in that way," said Father Columb; "but the Government, as you call it, can't make men work. It can't force eight millions of the finest pisantry on G.o.d's earth--," and Father Columb was, by degrees, pushing away the seat from under him, when he was cruelly and ruthlessly stopped by his own parish priest.

"I beg your pardon for a moment, Creagh," said he; "but perhaps we are getting a little out of the track. What Mr. Somers says is very true. If these men won't work on the road--and I don't think they will--the responsibility is not on us. That matter has been decided for us."

"Men will sooner work anywhere than starve," said Mr. Townsend.

"Some men will," said Father Columb, with a great deal of meaning in his tone. What he intended to convey was this--that Protestants, no doubt, would do so, under the dominion of the flesh; but that Roman Catholics, being under the dominion of the Spirit, would perish first.

"At any rate we must try," said Father M'Carthy.

"Exactly," said Mr. Somers; "and what we have now to do is to see how we may best enable these workers to live on their wages, and how those others are to live, who, when all is done, will get no wages."

"I think we had better turn shopkeepers ourselves, and open stores for them everywhere," said Herbert. "That is what we are doing already at Berryhill."

"And import our own corn," said the parson.

"And where are we to get the money?" said the priest.

"And why are we to ruin the merchants?" said O'Leary, whose brother was in the flour-trade, in Cork.

"And shut up all the small shopkeepers," said Father Columb, whose mother was established in that line in the neighbourhood of Castleisland.

"We could not do it," said Somers. "The demand upon us would be so great, that we should certainly break down. And then where would we be?"

"But for a time, Somers," pleaded Herbert.

"For a time we may do something in that way, till other means present themselves. But we must refuse all out-door relief. They who cannot or do not bring money must go into the workhouses."

"You will not get houses in county Cork sufficient to hold them,"

said Father Bernard. And so the debate went on, not altogether without some sparks of wisdom, with many sparks also of eager benevolence, and some few pa.s.sing clouds of fuliginous self-interest.

And then lists were produced, with the names on them of all who were supposed to be in want--which were about to become, before long, lists of the whole population of the country. And at last it was decided among them, that in their district nothing should be absolutely given away, except to old women and widows,--which kindhearted clause was speedily neutralised by women becoming widows while their husbands were still living; and it was decided also, that as long as their money lasted, the soup-kitchen at Berryhill should be kept open, and mill kept going, and the little shop maintained, so that to some extent a check might be maintained on the prices of the hucksters. And in this way they got through their work, not perhaps with the sagacity of Solomon, but as I have said, with an average amount of wisdom, as will always be the case when men set about their tasks with true hearts and honest minds.

And then, when they parted, the two clergymen of the parish shook hands with each other again, having perhaps less animosity against each other than they had ever felt before. There had been a joke or two over the table, at which both had laughed. The priest had wisely shown some deference to the parson, and the parson had immediately returned it, by referring some question to the priest. How often does it not happen that when we come across those whom we have hated and avoided all our lives, we find that they are not quite so bad as we had thought? That old gentleman of whom we wot is never so black as he has been painted.

The work of the committee took them nearly the whole day, so that they did not separate till it was nearly dark. When they did so, Somers and Herbert Fitzgerald rode home together.

"I always live in mortal fear," said Herbert, "that Townsend and the priests will break out into warfare."

"As they haven't done it yet, they won't do it now," said Somers.

"M'Carthy is not without sense, and Townsend, queer and intolerant as he is, has good feeling. If he and Father Columb were left together, I don't know what might happen. Mr. Prendergast is to be with you the day after to-morrow, is he not?"

"So I understood my father to say."

"Will you let me give you a bit of advice, Herbert?"

"Certainly."