You know, and many Englishmen know, what passes in China; but nobody knows or cares what passes in Ireland.  At the beginning of the present reign no Catholic could realise property, or carry on any business; they were absolutely annihilated, and had no more agency in the country than so many trees.  They were like Lord Mulgrave’s eloquence and Lord Camden’s wit; the legislative bodies did not know of their existence.  For these twenty-five years last past the Catholics have been engaged in commerce; within that period the commerce of Ireland has doubled—­there are four Catholics at work for one Protestant, and eight Catholics at work for one Episcopalian.  Of course, the proportion which Catholic wealth bears to Protestant wealth is every year altering rapidly in favour of the Catholics.  I have already told you what their purchases of land were the last year:  since that period I have been at some pains to find out the actual state of the Catholic wealth:  it is impossible upon such a subject to arrive at complete accuracy; but I have good reason to believe that there are at present 2000 Catholics in Ireland possessing an income of L500 and upwards, many of these with incomes of one, two, three, and four thousand, and some amounting to fifteen and twenty thousand per annum:—­and this is the kingdom, and these the people, for whose conciliation we are to wait Heaven knows when, and Lord Hawkesbury why!  As for me, I never think of the situation of Ireland without feeling the same necessity for immediate interference as I should do if I saw blood flowing from a great artery.  I rush towards it with the instinctive rapidity of a man desirous of preventing death, and have no other feeling but that in a few seconds the patient may be no more.

I could not help smiling, in the times of No Popery, to witness the loyal indignation of many persons at the attempt made by the last ministry to do something for the relief of Ireland.  The general cry in the country was, that they would not see their beloved Monarch used ill in his old age, and that they would stand by him to the last drop of their blood.  I respect good feelings, however erroneous be the occasions on which they display themselves; and therefore I saw in all this as much to admire as to blame.  It was a species of affection, however, which reminded me very forcibly of the attachment displayed by the servants of the Russian ambassador at the beginning of the last century.  His Excellency happened to fall down in a kind of apoplectic fit, when he was paying a morning visit in the house of an acquaintance.  The confusion was of course very great, and messengers were despatched in every direction to find a surgeon:  who, upon his arrival, declared that his Excellency must be immediately blooded, and prepared himself forthwith to perform the operation:  the barbarous servants of the embassy, who were there in great numbers, no sooner saw the surgeon prepared to wound the arm of their master with a sharp, shining instrument,