could be anything but poor, because of the merciless oppression of the British government. "The frightful visitation of famine in 1846, succeeded by an unparalleled emigration, swept from the Irish soil more than a fourth of its people." (May's "Constitutional History of England. J Between 1841 and 1851 "The total loss, however, was computed at 2.466,414. The decrease amounted to forty-niue persons to every square mile.— ("Census Report," 1851.") Thousands of those who landed at New York were hired at Castle Garden as laborers by the New Jersey farmers, whose ancestral homes became the tenements of the emigrant laborers, while they built for themselves more ambitious residences—usually large double houses, painted white with green blinds. The Irish emigrant was deplorably poor and ignorant, but he was shrewd, intelligent, kind-hearted and light-hearted. He made little complaint of the sorrows and privations of the past. Among the first that came were many old men and women who could scarcely speak English. They were often not as ignorant as they seemed to be, Lady Dufferin, in her beautiful ballad of the "Lament of the Irish Emigrant," has told the heart-story of thousands:

"And often in those grand old woods

I'll sit, and shut my eyes,

And my heart will travel back again
To the place where Mary lies;

And I'll think I see the little stile

Where we sat side by side,

And the springin' corn and the bright May moon,

When first you were my bride."

With his own sorrows buried deep in his heart the Irish emigrant brought laughter and sport to the farms of New Jersey. It was only in the hour of trouble that his sorrow appeared as the most tender, warm and delicately-given sympathy for others. There are few who knew these people who cannot recall many such instances. Their record during the Civil war was honorable. They were good soldiers of the rank and file. The drafts of the later years fell heavily upon them. Many a good man lost his life and his widow and children were obliged to give up the little home they had been years trying to win.

The general changes brought by the Civil War and the agricultural development of the west, southwest and south, have radically altered New Jersey and its people of the old stock. By the depreciation of the value of the land for agricultural purposes many of the old farmers lost their lands, while the younger men sold them and sought some other more promising occupation. Some of the large farms of fifty years ago have been cut up into small tracts and are to-day owned by the descendants of the Irish emigrants who came to them penniless from the "Potato famine." The people of Colonial and Revolutionary New Jersey are scattered all over the Union. Sometimes becoming wealthy, some branch of the old stock will return to an old home and restore its prosperity and comfort. New Jersey is no longer an agricultural commonwealth. As in the earliest days of its colonization, it is becoming the home of merchants from the great cities. Its towns are becoming manufacturing centers. It is fast coming to be a great commercial Commonwealth.

CHAPTER IV.

THE SOCIAL LIFE OF NEW JERSEY.

The social life of a community is but the reflection of the personality of its members. Where the leaders in affairs are men of strong character, whose conduct is dominated by stern moral convictions, recitude of conduct prevails, coloring the present life of the community and affording an example for the guidance of succeeding generations.

Law is the product of social life, rather than its maker. Law is generally enacted only after urgent necessity, when moral tenets and personal influences seem powerless to eradicate or mitigate an evil which threatens society. Hence, the statute books of a nation, in whatever era, may be understood as indicating a widespread existence of those misdemeanors and crimes for which penalties are provided. The Mosaic law is the most convincing instance in point in all human history. Its minute regulations for the conduct of the individual, even to the details of personal cleanliness and diet, reveal an existent condition of real savagery, from which the children of Israel were upraised by their great law-giver, ultimately becoming models in these respects for all mankind.

Among the earliest laws enacted in the province of the Jerseys were those for the guarding of the public morals. The fact is significant. For the greater part, the people, who were mostly Protestants, were deeply imbued with religious sentiments which had been their heritage from many preceding generations. The community was in its formative stage, and the laws were framed rather to establish a standard for conduct, and more especially for later immigrants who were beginning to arrive, than out of immediate necessity. Again, the legislators of the day were familiar with the vicious conduct of the worst classes in the mother country, and they did not clearly discriminate between the conditions in an old and thickly populated land, with its diversified classes and those in a new community where all were practically upon a common level, and where all must struggle for an existence, practicing industry and economy, with little time or means, and less of inclination, for debasing pursuits. Perhaps, too,

those legislators, free livers as they were, were actuated by that very human idiosyncracy which sometimes moves those in authority to sternly reprobate in others such frailties of the flesh as they deem themselves, in their more exalted social position, privileged to indulge in.

Among the first laws enacted was one regarding a proper observance of the Lord's Day, by abstaining from all servile work, unlawful recreations and unnecessary travel. "All liars" were brought under ban, but we are unenlightened as to what was deemed falsehood in those days.

"Taking God's name in vain" was forbidden.. Drunkenness was another offense. For infractions of any of these laws, penalties were provided, usually fine or imprisonment, but in some cases the offender was put in the stocks or publicly whipped.

These laws were re-enacted in greater part at a subsequent date (1682), by a legislative assembly sitting at Elizabethtown. "The Penalty of a Drunkard" was the caption of a law passed at that session. This imposed a fine upon the offender, and if not paid, he "or she" was put in the stocks. In a somewhat later day, the general use of ardent spirits finds recognition in an enactment which forbade keepers of public houses to allow tippling on the Lord's Day "except for necessary refreshment."

It is curious to note that these laws, enacted under English rule, and requiring the approval of the crown, during the time of that "Merry Monarch" who was, to use the unique phrase of Macauley. "much addicted to women," and whose profligate behavior on the Sabbath, and in public gaze provoked the pained indignation of Pepys and Evelyn. Perhaps the framers of these laws had a premonition of the conditions which were soon to prevail. Perhaps the crown representatives, who had much to do with their enactment, were providing against the disorder which they foresaw as an accompaniment of an immigration of their own invitation. However this may have been, the population of the colony was soon considerably increased. Among the immigrants were yet more Scotch Presbyterians, with Quakers and Baptists from England, and Huguenots from France. Men and women of deeply religious temperament and strict sense of duty, the blood in their veins was warm with love of God and His creatures, and they gave their effort to every useful and noble purpose.

Evidence of the religious spirit prevalent in these same times is found in the action of the General Assembly, which in 1676 appointed the second Wednesday in November as a day of Thanksgiving to Almighty God for the blessings of peace and other mercies. November 26, 1696, was similarly designated as a day of thanksgiving for the discovery of a purpose against the life of King William and against the lives of Protest

ants.

In a remarkably interesting volume a graphic writer (Judge Beekman) has shown of what noble stuff was made the early Dutch settlers of Monmouth county, and his epitomization of their virtues is most significant. It is premised that they were industrious, frugal, honest and hospitable. They were also, as a rule, fixed in moral and religious principles, clinging to the Protestant faith of their fathers, and proving their faith by their works. Their stern integrity appears in their dealings with the Indians in the acquisition of lands. In all cases they made bona fide purchases, albeit they were close and shrewd in making a bargain. These facts are affirmed by all annalists of repute. Indeed, there appears to be but one who seeks to scandalize this splendid old stock. That one was Lewis Morris, of Tinton Falls, who (1702) wrote to the Bishop of London, saying that in Middletown "there is no such thing as a church or religion. They are, perhaps, the most ignorant and wicked people on earth. Their meetings on Sunday are at the public house, where they get their fill of rum and go to fighting and running races." Morris' bitter animus was long ago recognized, and his strictures were proven false by examination into the lives of those whom he denounced. The population was not