Superstition Unveiled | Page 2

of Romanism it would
be idle to deny. No one at all acquainted with its cunningly contrived
'system' will hesitate to characterise it as 'wickedly political,' productive
of nothing but mischief--a system through whose accursed
instrumentality millions are cheated of their sanity as well as substance,
and trained dog-like to lick the hand that smites them. So perfect is
their degradation that literally they 'take no thought for to-morrow,' it
being their practice to wait 'till starvation stares them in the face,' [4:2]
and then make an effort against it.
The Globe of Thursday, October 30th, 1845, contains an article on the
damage sustained by the potatoe crop here and in Ireland, full of matter
calculated to enlighten our first-rate reformers who seem profoundly
ignorant that superstition is the bane of intellect, and most formidable
of all the obstacles which stand between the people and their rights.
One paragraph is so peculiarly significant of the miserable condition to
which Romanism and Protestantism have reduced a peasantry said to
be 'the finest in the world,' that I here subjoin it.
The best means to arrest the progress of the pestilence in the people's
food have occupied the attention of scientific men. The commission
appointed by government, consisting of three of the must celebrated
practical chemists, has published a preliminary report, in which
several suggestions, rather than ascertained results, are communicated,
by which the sound portions of the root may, it is hoped, be preserved
from the epidemic, and possibly, the tainted be rendered innoxious, and
even partially nutritious. Followed implicitly, their directions might
mitigate the calamity. But the care, the diligence, the persevering
industry which the various forms of process require, in order to
effecting the purpose which might result if they were promptly adopted
and properly carried out, are the very qualities in which the Irish
peasantry are most deficient. In the present crisis, the people are more
disposed to regard the extensive destruction of their crops in the light

of an extraordinary visitation of Heaven, with which it is vain for
human efforts to contend, than to employ counteracting, or remedial
applications. "Sure the Almighty sent the potatoe-plague and we must
bear it as wall us we can," is the remark of many; while, in other places,
the copious sprinklings of holy water on the potatoe gardens, and on
the produce, as it lies upon the surface, are more depended on for
disinfecting the potatoes than those suggestions of science which
require the application of patient industry.
Daniel O'Connell boasted about Irish morale and Irish intellect--the
handsome women, and stalwart men of his 'beloved country,' but no
sensible persons paid the least attention to him. It is, at all events, too
late in the day for we 'Saxons' to be either cajoled or amused by such
nonsense. An overwhelming majority of the Irish people have been
proved indolent beyond all parallel, and not much more provident than
those unhappy savages who sell their beds in the morning, not being
able to foresee they shall again require them at night. A want of
forethought so remarkable and indolence so abominable, are results of
superstitious education. Does any one suppose the religion of the Irish
has little, if anything, to do with their political condition? Or can it be
believed they will be fit for, much less achieve, political emancipation,
while priests and priests alone, are their instructors? We may rely upon
it that intellectual freedom is the natural and necessary precursor of
political freedom. Education, said Lord Brougham, makes men easy to
lead but difficult to drive; easy to govern but impossible to enslave. The
Irish peasantry clamoured for 'Repeal,' never considering that did they
get it, no essential change would be made in their social, moral, or, to
say all in one word, political condition. They would still be the tool of
unprincipled political mountebanks--themselves the tool of priests.
Great was the outcry raised against the 'godless colleges' that Sir Robert
Peel had the courageous good sense to inflict on Ireland. Protestant, as
well as Romanist priests, were terribly alarmed lest these colleges
should spoil the craft by which they live. Sagacious enough to perceive
that whatever influence they possess must vanish with the ignorance on
which it rests, they moved heaven and earth to disgust the Irish people
with an educational measure of which superstition formed no part.

Their fury, like 'empty space,' is boundless. They cannot endure the
thought that our minister should so far play the game of 'infidelity' as to
take from them the delightful task of teaching Ireland's young idea 'how
to shoot.' Sir Robert Inglis christened this odious measure, a 'gigantic
scheme of godless education,' and a large majority of Irish Roman
Catholic Prelates have solemnly pronounced it 'dangerous to faith and
morals.' Neither ministerial