as ever from the pacification of Ireland. Surely it is time to
inquire whether the evil is not inherent in our system of governing
Ireland, and whether there is any other cure than that which De Beaumont
suggested, namely, the destruction of the system. It is probable that
there is not in all London a more humane or a more kind-hearted man than
Lord Salisbury. Yet Lord Salisbury's Government will do some harsh and
inequitable things in Ireland this winter, just as Liberal Governments
have done during their term of office. The fault is not in the men, but
in the system which they have to administer. I see no reason to doubt
that Sir M. Hicks-Beach did the best he could under the circumstances;
but, unfortunately, bad is the best. In a conversation which I had with
Dr. Doellinger while he was in full communion with his Church, I ventured
to ask him whether he thought that a new Pope, of Liberal ideas, force
of character, and commanding ability, would make any great difference in
the Papal system. "No," he replied, "the Curial system is the growth of
centuries, and there can be no change of any consequence while it lasts.
Many a Pope has begun with brave projects of reform; but the struggle
has been brief, and the end has been invariably the same: the Pope has
been forced to succumb. His _entourage_ has been too much for him. He
has found himself enclosed in a system which was too strong for him,
wheel within wheel; and while the system lasts the most enlightened
ideas and the best intentions are in the long run unavailing." This
criticism applies, _mutatis mutandis_, to what may be called the Curial
system of Dublin Castle. It is a species of political Ultramontanism,
exercising supreme power behind the screen of an official infallibility
on which there is practically no check, since Parliament has never
hitherto refused to grant it any power which it demanded for enforcing
its decrees.

There is, moreover, another consideration which must convince any
dispassionate mind which ponders it, that the British Parliament is
incompetent to manage Irish affairs, and must become increasingly
incompetent year by year. In ordinary circumstances Parliament sits
about twenty-seven weeks out of the fifty-two. Five out of the
twenty-seven may safely be subtracted for holidays, debates on the
Address, and other debates apart from ordinary business. That leaves
twenty-two weeks, and out of these two nights a week are at the disposal
of t