south of Ireland personally instructed the
people to avoid all intercourse of any sort with any Roman Catholic who
"listened to a Protestant clergyman or a Scripture Reader"; and Sir
Francis cites an instance--still apparently on hearsay--of a "shoemaker
at Westport," who, having seceded from the Church, found that not a
single "journeyman dared work for him"; that only "one person would sell
him leather"; and, "in short, lost his custom, and rapidly came to a
state of starvation."

On the margin of the pages which record these statements, certain
indignant Catholics have pencilled comments, the mildest of which is to
the effect that Sir Francis was "a most damnable liar." It is certainly
most unlikely that Catholics should have arrogated to themselves the
Church's function of combating heresy and schism in the fashion
described by Sir Francis. But without mooting that question, these
expressions are noteworthy as showing how just such proceedings, as are
involved in the political "boycottings" of the present day, must be
regarded by all honest and clear-headed people who call themselves
Catholics; and it is a serious scandal that a parish priest should lay
himself open to the imputation of acting in concert with any political
body whatever, on any pretext whatever, to encourage such proceedings.

I asked one of the sergeants how the publicans who had signed the
guarantee would probably be treated by their townspeople. He replied,
there was some talk of their being "boycotted" in their turn by the
butchers and bakers. "But it's all nonsense," he said, "they are the
snuggest (the most prosperous) publicans in this part of the country,
and nobody will want to vex them. They have many friends, and the best
friend they have is that they can afford to give credit to the country
people. There'll be no trouble with them at all at all!"

Walking about the town, I saw many placards calling for subscriptions in
aid of a newsvendor who has been impounded for selling _United Ireland_.
"It'll be a good thing for him," said a cynical citizen, to whom I spoke
of it, "a good deal better than he'd be by selling the papers." And, in
fact, it is noticeable all over Ireland how small the sales of the
papers appear to be. The people about the streets in Ennis, however,
seemed to me much more effervescent and hot in tone than the Dublin
people are--and this on both sides of the question. One very decent and
substantial-looking man, when I