Arthur Young. 
19 
to cabin, their pay 6d. a quarter. “It is an absolute system of 
education.” Pigs and children roll about so much alike that 
you must look twice before the human face divine is confessed. 
“ I believe,” Young says, “ there are more pigs in Mitchelstown 
than human beings, yet propagation is the only trade that 
flourished here for years. The small tenants are uncommon 
masters of the art of overcoming diffigulties by patience and con- 
trivance. The recompense for labour is the means of living ; 
that is to say, in England money, in Ireland land or commodi- 
ties. Lime is the great manure ; for limestone is plentiful, with 
peats at hand for fuel. Wool, on an average of sixteen years to 
1779, had made 13s. 8 d. per sixteen pounds, against 9s. 3d. in 
Lincolnshire, the sheep being better, the supply limited owing 
to breaking up sheepwalks, and the price of spinning being 
half what it was in England. In the common Irish, what struck 
Young most was “ their vivacity and a great and eloquent volu- 
bility of speech ; one would think they could take snuff and talk 
without tiring till doomsday. Warm friends and revengeful 
enemies, they have such a notion of honour that neither threat 
nor reward would induce them to betray the secret and person 
of a man, though an oppressor, whose property they would 
plunder without ceremony. Hard drinkers, and quarrelsome, 
great liars, but civil, submissive, and obedient.” 
The years of Young’s tour in France are ever memorable in 
history. He landed at Calais, May 15, 1787. On June 17, 
1789, the Tiers Etat, superseding the authority of the States- 
General, constituted themselves the National Assembly. Before 
that year closed the Bastille had fallen, the property of the clergy 
was confiscated, and the emigration of the nobility commenced. 
“ It is a revolt,” said the King. “ No, Sire,” replied the Duke 
de Liancourt, “it is a revolution.” The opportunity for reform 
has gone by and the dreadful shadow of the guillotine was on 
the point of obscuring the fading splendour of royalty. Before 
Young left Paris, January 30 j 1790, he sees the King, and 
Queen, and the Dauphin of France actual prisoners at the 
Tuileries : “ the most extraordinary sight, that either French 
or English eyes could ever behold in Paris.” 
After passing Payrac he meets many beggars, and notices 
that all the country girls and women are without shoes or 
stockings and the ploughmen at their work have neither sabots 
nor feet to their stockings. It reminded him of the misery of 
Ireland. On July 24, in Languedoc all the villages and towns 
are alive with the treading out of the corn. Great numbers of 
horses and mules are driven in a trot round a centre, a woman 
holding the reins, and another or a girl or two with whips 
