Hitherto we have described the tithe-agitation as one which was externally general as well as deep-rooted; and so far we were perfectly correct.  Our readers, however, are not to understand by this that there did not exist among the people—­ay, and the priesthood too—­a strong under-current of sympathy for the sufferings of the protestant clergy.  The latter had indeed been now reduced to such privation as it is pitiable even to look back upon.  One-half the glebe-houses presented such symptoms of cold nakedness and destitution, such a wrecked and gutted appearance, as could scarcely be conceived at present.  Hundreds of their occupants had been obliged to part by degrees with all that was valuable or could be turned into money.  The elegant and accomplished young female, hitherto accustomed to all the comforts and luxuries of life, was now to be taught a lesson of suffering and endurance as severe as it was unexpected.  Many—­many such lessons were taught, and we may add—­well and nobly, and with true Christian fortitude, were they borne.  We have already said that Purcel had the collection of tithe for four Parishes, and now that the distress among the clergy and their families had assumed such a dreadful and appalling aspect, he had an opportunity of ascertaining the extraordinary respect and affection for them which existed after all in the minds of the people.  His own house and premises were now so strongly secured, and his apprehension of nocturnal attacks so strongly justified by the threats he had already received, and the disorganized state of the country around him, that he was forced to decline receiving the tithe at unseasonable hours; it being impossible for him to know whether the offer of payment might not have been a plan of the people to get into his dwelling, and wreak their vengeance upon him and his sons.  Under these circumstances, his advice to them, communicated with due regard to his own safety, was to pay the money directly to the clergyman himself, or at least to some of his family; and this, indeed, when they lived near the clergyman, they always preferred doing.  To be sure, the step was a hazardous one, but, as they say, where there is a will there is a way; and so it was in many instances on this occasion.  The dead hour of the night was necessarily selected for the performance of this kind office, and in this way many an unexpected act of relief was experienced by the starving and destitute clergy, at the hands of the very persons who were sworn to abolish tithes, and to refuse paying them in any shape.

Sometimes, to be sure, when Purcel or his sons happened to be abroad on business, attended as they now generally were by policemen for their protection, a countryman, for instance, would hastily approach him or them, as the case might be, and thrusting a sum of money rolled up in paper, into his hand, exclaim, “It’s the thrifle o’ the last gale o’ rint, sir, that I was short in—­you’ll find a bit o’ murnmyrandim in the paper, that’ll show you it’s all right.”  This, uttered with a dry, significant expression of countenance, was a sufficient indication of the object intended.  On examining the paper, it was generally found to contain some such direction as the following—­