These would amount to a revolution.' 'Well, and why not?
Ain't we always going through a sort of mild revolution?
What's parliamentary government but revolution, weakened, if you like, like watered grog, but the spirit is there all the same.

Don't fancy that, because you can give it a hard name, you can destroy it.
But hear what Tom is coming to.

"Be early," says he, "take time by the forelock: get rid of your entail and get rid of your land.

Don't wait till the Government does both for you, and have to accept whatever condition the law will cumber you with, but be before them! Get your son to join you in docking the entail; petition before the court for a sale, yourself or somebody for you; and wash your hands clean of it all.

It's bad property, in a very ticklish country," says Tom--and he dashes the words--"bad property in a very ticklish country; and if you take my advice, you'll get clear of both." You shall read it all yourself by-and-by; I am only giving you the substance of it, and none of the reasons.' 'This is a question for very grave consideration, to say the least of it.
It is a bold proposal.' 'So it is, and so says Tom himself; but he adds: "There's no time to be lost; for once it gets about how Gladstone's going to deal with land, and what Bright has in his head for eldest sons, you might as well whistle as try to dispose of that property." To be sure, he says,' added he, after a pause--'he says, "If you insist on holding on--if you cling to the dirty acres because they were your father's and your great-grandfather's, and if you think that being Kearney of Kilgobbin is a sort of title, in the name of God stay where you are, but keep down your expenses.