What those measures should be is a question complicated, and involving considerations of the deepest importance to the whole body of the people, both in Ireland and Great Britain.' Sir George Nicholls, who had been an English poor-law commissioner, was sent over to Ireland to make preliminary enquiries.

He found that the Irish peasantry had generally an appearance of apathy and depression, seen in their mode of living, their habitations, their dress and conduct; they seemed to have no pride, no emulation, to be heedless of the present and careless of the future.

They did not strive to improve their appearance or add to their comforts: their cabins were slovenly, smoky, dirty, almost without furniture, or any article of convenience or common decency.

The woman and her children were seen seated on the floor, surrounded by pigs and poultry: the man lounging at the door, which could be approached only through mud and filth: the former too slatternly to sweep the dirt and offal from the door, the latter too lazy to make a dry footway, though the materials were close at hand.

If the mother were asked why she did not keep herself and her children clean with a stream of water running near the cabin, her answer invariably was--Sure, how can we help it?
We are so poor.' The husband made the same reply, while smoking his pipe at the fire or basking in the sunshine.