children were Catholics, he was obliged to divide the land equally between them.  This was the English plan for eliminating the Catholic tenure of the land and letting it slip out of their hands.  Then, if any of the children, during their father’s life, concluded to become Protestants, in such case they took the whole estate; or, indeed, they might compel the father to put his estate in trust for their benefit.  So, if the Catholic wife would not go to an Episcopalian church once a month—­which she deemed it a sin to do—­she forfeited her dower.  But if she went regularly, she could have all the estate.  If a Catholic had a lease, and it rose one-quarter in value, any Protestant could take it from him by bringing that fact to the notice of a justice of the peace.  Three justices of the peace might summon any Catholic before them, and oblige him to give up his faith, or quit the realm.  Four justices could oblige him to abjure his faith or sell his estates.  If a Protestant paid one dollar tax, the Catholic paid two.  If a Protestant lost a ship, when at war with a Catholic power—­and at the time there was only one Protestant power in Europe, besides Great Britain; that was Holland:  so that the chances were nine to one that, in case of war, Great Britain would be at war with a Catholic power—­in such a case, if a Protestant lost a ship, he went home and assessed the value on his Catholic neighbors, and was reimbursed.  So, of education.  We fret a great deal on account of a class of Irishmen who come to our shores and are lacking in education, in culture, and refinement.  But you must remember the bad laws, you must remember the malignant legislation, that sentenced them to a life of ignorance, and made education a felony in Catholic Ireland.  If an Irishman sent his child to a Protestant schoolmaster, all right; but if the parent would not do so, and sent him to a Catholic school, the father was fined ten pounds a week; and the schoolmaster was fined five pounds a week; and for the third offense he was hung!  But, if the father determined that his child should be educated, and sent him across the Channel to France, the boy forfeited his citizenship and became an alien; and, if discovered, the father was fined one hundred pounds; and anybody, except the father, who harbored him, forfeited all civil rights—­that is, he could not sue in a court of law, nor could he vote.  Indeed, a Catholic could not marry!  If he married a Protestant, the marriage was void; the children were illegitimate.  And, if one Catholic married another, it required the presence of a priest, and if a priest landed in Ireland for twenty minutes, it was death!  To this ferocious ‘Code’, Sir Robert Peel, in our own day, added the climax, that no Catholic should quit his dwelling between the hours of sunset and sunrise, an exaggeration of the ‘Curfew Law’ of William the Conqueror.  Now, you will hardly believe that this was enacted as a law.  But Mr. Froude alludes to this code.