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1861.]
The Young Repealer.
387
The one the fancy of Ovid metamor-
phosed from a restless man to a fickle
sea-god ; the other assumed so many de-
ceptive shapes to those who visited his
cave, that his memory has been preserv-
ed in the word Protean. Such fancies
well apply to a part of Nature which
shifts like the sands, and ranges from the
hideous Cuttle-fish and ravenous Shark to
the delicate Medusa, whose graceful form
and trailing tentacles float among the
waving fronds of colored Algas, like
" Sabrina fair,
Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
The loose tram of her amber-dropping hair."
THE YOUNG EEPEALER.
About eighteen years ago, when I
was confined to two rooms by illness of
long standing, I received a remarkable
note by post one day. The envelope,
bearing the Dublin postmark, was ad-
dressed in a good, bold, manly hand-
writing; but the few lines within show-
ed traces of agitation. What I am going
to relate is a true story, — altogether
true, so far as I can trust my memory, —
except the name of the Young Eepealer.
I might give his real name without dan-
ger of hurting any person's feelings but
one ; but, for the sake of that one, who
will thus be out of the reach of my nar-
rative, I speak of him under another
name. Having to choose a name, I will
take a thoroughly Irish on^, and call my
correspondent Patrick Monahan.
The few lines which showed agitation
in the handwriting were calm in lan-
guage, but very strange. Patrick Mon-
ahan told me that he was extremely un-
happy, and that he had reason to believe
that I, and I alone, could do him good.
This, with the address, — to a certain
number in a street in Dublin, — was
all.
There was little time before the post
went out ; I was almost unable to write
from illness ; but, after a second glance
at this note, I felt that I dared not delay
nay reply. I did not think that it was
money that he wished to ask. I did not
think that he was insane. I could not
conceive why he should apply to me, nor
VOL. VIII. 22
why he did not explain what he wished
from me ; but I had a strong impression
that it was safest to reply at once. I did
so, in half a dozen lines, promising to
write next day, after a further attempt
to discover his meaning, and begging him
to consider how completely in the dark
I was as to him and his case. It was well
that I wrote that day. Long after, when
he was letting me into all the facts of his
life, he told me that he had made my re-
plying at once or not the turning-point
of his fate. If the post had brought him
nothing, he would have drowned himself
in the Liffey.
My second letter was the only sort of
letter that it could be, — an account of
my own conjectures about him, and of my
regret that I could see no probability of
my being of use to him, except in as far
as my experience of many troubles might
enable me to speak suitably to him. I
added some few words on the dangers
attending any sort of trouble, when too
keenly felt.
In answer to ;ny first note came a few
lines, telling me that the purpose of his
application was mainly answered, and
that my reply was of altogether greater
consequence than I could have any idea
of. He was less unhappy now, and be-
lieved he should never be so desperately
wretched again. Wild as this might ap-
pear, I was still persuaded that he was
not insane.
By the next post came a rather bulky
338
The Young Repealer,
[September,
packet. It contained, besides a letter
from him, two or three old parchment
documents, which showed that Patrick's
forefathers had filled some chief munici-
pal offices in the city in which the fam-
ily had been settled for several genera-
tions. I had divined that Patrick was a
gentleman ; and he now showed me that
he came of a good and honorable fami-
ly, and had been well-educated. He was
an orphan, and had not a relation in the
world, — if I remember right. It was
evident that he was poor; but he did
not ask for money, nor seem to write on
that account. He aspired to a literary
life, and believed he should have done
so, even if he had had the means of pro-
fessional education. But he did not ask
me for aid in trying his powers in litera-
ture. It was very perplexing ; and the
fact became presently clear that he ex-
pected me to tell him how I could be of
use to .him, — he being in no way able
to afford me that Information. I may as
well give here the key to the mystery,
which I had to wait for for some time.
When poor Patrick was in a desperate
condition, — very ill, in a lodging of
which he could not pay the rent, —
threatened with being turned into the
street as soon as the thing could be done
without danger to his life, — galled with
a sense of disgrace, and full of impotent
wrath against an oppressor, — and even
suffering under deeper griefs than these,
— at such a time, the worn man fell
asleep, and dreamed that I looked kindly
upon him. This happened three times ;
and on this ground, and this alone, he
applied to me for comfort.
Before I learned this much, I had
taken upon me to advise freely whatever
occurred to me as best, finding Patrick
entirely docile under my suggestions.
Among other things, I advised him not
to take offence, or assume any reserve,
if a gentleman should call on him, with
a desire to be of use to him. A gentle-
man did call, and was of eminent use
to him. I had written to a benevolent
friend of mine, a chief citizen of Dublin,
begging him to obtain for me, through
some trusty clerk or other messenger,
some information as to what Patrick was
like, — how old he was, what he was
doing, and whether anything effectual
could be done for him. Mr. H. went
himself He found Patrick sitting over
a little fire in a little room, his young'
face thin and flushed, and his thin hands
showing fever. He had had inflammation
of the lungs, and, though he talked cheer-
fully, he was yet very far from well.
Mr. H. was charmed with him. He
found in him no needless reserves, and
not so much sensitive pride as we had
feared. Patrick had great hopes of suf-
ficient employment, when once he could
get out and go and see about it; and
he pointed out two or three directions
in which he believed he could obtain
engagements. Two things, however,
were plain : that there was some diffi-
culty about getting out, and that his
mind was set upon going to London at
the first possible moment. He had not
only the ordinary provincial ambition to
achieve an entrance into the London
literary world, but he had another ob-
ject : he could serve his country best
in London. Mr. H. easily divined the
nature of the obstacle to his going out
into the fresh air which he needed so
much ; and in a few days Patrick had a
good suit of clothes. This was Mr. H.'s
doing ; and be also removed the danger
of Patrick's being turned out of his lodg-
ing. The landlord had no wish to do
such a thing ; the young man was a gen-
tleman, — regular and self-denying in his
habits, and giving no trouble that he
could help : but he had been very ill ;
and it was so desolate ! Nobody came
to see him; no letters arrived for him;
no money was coming in, it was clear ;
and he could not go on living there, —
starving, in fact.
Once able to go about again, Patrick
cheered up ; but it was plain that there
was one point on which he would not be
ruled. He would not stay in Dublin,
under any Inducement whatever; and
he would go to London. I wrote very
plainly to him about the risk he was
1861.]
The Young Repealer,
339
running, — even describing the desolate
condition of the unsuccessful literary ad-
venturer in the dreary peopled wilder-
ness, in which the friendless may lie
down and die alone, as the starved ani-
mal lies down and perishes in the ravine
in the desert. I showed him how impos-
sible it was for me or anybody to help
him, except with a little money, till he
had shown what he could do ; and I en-
treated him to wait two years, — one
year, — six months, before rushing on
such a fate. Here, and here alone, he
was self-willed. At first he explained to
me that he had one piece of employment
to rely on. He was to be the London
correspondent of the Repeal organ in
Dublin,— the " Nation " newspaper. The
pay was next to nothing. He could not
live, ever so frugally, on four times the
amount : but It was an engagement ; and
it would enable him to serve his country.
So, as there was nothing else to be done,
Mr. H. started him for London, with
just money enough to carry him there.
Once there, he was sure he should do
very well.
I doubted this ; and he was met, at
the address he gave, (at an Irish green-
grocer's, the only person he knew in
London,) by an order for money enough
to carry him over two or three weeks,
— money given by two or three friends
to whom T ventured to open the case. I
have seldom read a happier letter than
Patrick's first from London ; but it was
not even then, nor for some time after,
that he told me the main reason of his
horror at remaining in Dublin.
He had hoped to support himself as a
tutor while studying and practising for
the literary profession ; and he had been
engaged to teach the children of a rich
citizen, — not only the boys, but the
daughter. He, an engaging youth of
three -and -twenty, with blue eyes and
golden hair, an Innocent and noble ex-
pression of countenance, an open heart,
a glowing imagination, and an eloquent
tongue, was set to teach Latin and litera-
ry composition to a pretty, warm-heart-
ed, romantic girl of twenty ; and when
they were in love and engaged, the fa-
ther considered himself the victim of the
basest treachery that ever man suffered
under. In vain the young people plead-
ed for leave to love and wait till Patrick
could provide a home for his wife. They
asked no favor but to be let alone. Pat-
rick's family was as good as hers ; and
he had the education and manners of a
gentleman, without any objectionable
habits or tastes, but with every possi-
ble desire to win an honorable home for
his beloved. I am not sure, but I think
there was a moment when they thought
of eloping some day, if nothing but the
paternal displeasure Intervened between
them and happiness ; but it was not yet
time for this. There was much to be
done first. What the father did first was
to turn Patrick out of the house, under
such circumstances of ignominy as he
could devise. What he did next was the
blow which broke the poor fellow down.
Patrick had written a letter, in answer
to the treatment he had received, in
which he expressed his feelings as strong-
ly as one might expect. This letter was
made the ground of a complaint at the
police-office ; and Patrick was arrested,
marched before the magistrate, and ar-
raigned as the sender of a threatening
letter to a citizen. In vain he protested
that no idea of threatening anybody had
been in his mind. The letter, as com-
mented on by his employer, was pro-
nounced sufficiently menacing to justify
his being bound over to keep the peace
towards this citizen and all his family.
The intention was, no doubt, to disgrace
him, and put him out of the question as
a suitor ; for no man could pretend to be
really afraid of violence from a candid
youth like Patrick, who loved the daugh-
ter too well to lift a finger against any
one connected with her. The scheme
succeeded ; for he believed it had broken
his heart. He supposed himself utterly
disgraced in Dublin ; and he could live
there no longer. Hence his self-will
about going to London.
In addition to this personal, there was
a patriotic view. Very early in our cor-
340
The Young Repealer,
[September,
respondence, Patrick told me that he was
a Repealer. He fancied himself a very
moderate one, and likely on that account
to do the more good. Those were the days
of O'Connell's greatest power ; or, if it
was on the wane, no one yet recognized
any change. Patrick knew one of the
younger O'Connells, and had been flat-
teringly noticed by the great Dan him-
self, who had approved the idea of his
going to London, hoped to see him there
some day, and had prophesied that this
young friend of his would do great things
for the cause by his pen, and be con-
spicuous among the saviours of Ireland.
Patrick's head was not quite turned by
this ; and he lamented, in his letters to
me, the plans proposed and the language
held by the common run of O'Connell's
followers. Those were the days when
the Catholic peasantry believed that " Re-
pale " would make every man the owner
of the land he lived on, or of that which
he wished to live on ; and the great Dan
did not disabuse them. Those were the
days when poor men believed that " Re-
pale " would release every one from the
debts he owed ; and Dan did not contra-
dict it. When Dan was dead, the conse-
quence of his not contradicting it was
that a literal -minded fellow here and
.there shot the creditor who asked for
payment of the coat, or the pig, or the
meal. For all this delusion Patrick was
sorry. He was sorry to hear Protestant
shopmen wishing for the day when Dub-
hn streets would be knee-deep in Catho-
lic blood, and to hear Cathohc shopmen
reciprocating the wish in regard to Prot-
estant blood. He was anxious to make
me understand that he had no such no-
tions, and that he even thought O'Con-
nell mistaken in appearing to counte-
nance such mistakes. But still he, Pat-
rick, was a Repealer ; and he wished me
to know precisely what he meant by that,
and what he proposed to do in conse-
quence. He thought it a sin and shame
that Ireland should be trodden under the
heel of the Saxon ; he thought the domi-
nation of the English Parliament intoler-
able ; he considered it just that the Irish
should make their own laws, own their
own soil, and manage their own affairs.
He had no wish to bring in the French, or
any other enemy of England ; and he was
fully disposed to be loyal to the Crown,
if the Crown would let Ireland entirely
alone. Even the constant persecution
inflicted upon Ireland had not destroyed
his loyalty to the Crown. Such were the
views on which his letters to the "Na-
tion" newspaper were to be grounded.
In reply, I contented myself with pro-
posing that he should make sure of his
ground as he went along ; for which pur-
pose he should ascertain what proportion
of the people of Ireland wished for a re-
peal of the Union ; and what sort of peo-
ple they were who desired Repeal on the
one hand, or continued Union on the oth-
er. I hoped he would satisfy himself as
to what Repeal could and could not ef-
fect ; and that he would study the history
of Irish Parliaments, to learn what the
character and bearing of their legislation
had been, and to estimate the chances of
good government by that kind of legisla-
ture, in comparison with the Imperial
Parliament.
If any foreign reader should suppose
it impossible, that, in modern times, there
can have been hopes entertained in Dub-
lin of the streets being inundated with
blood, such reader may be referred to
the evidence afforded of Repeal senti-
ment five years later than the time of
which I write. When the heroes of that
rising of 1848 — of whom John Mitchell
is the sample best known in America —
were tracked in their plans and devices,
it appeared what their proposed methods
of warfare were. Some of these, detail-
ed in Repeal newspapers, and copied in-
to American journals, were proposed to
the patriotic women of Ireland, as their
peculiar means of serving their coun-
try ; and three especially. Red-hot iron
hoops, my readers may remember, were
to be cast down from balconies, so as
to pin the arms of English soldiers
marching in the street, and scorch their
hearts. Vitriol was to be flung into their
eyes. Boiling oil was to be poured up-
1861.]
The Young Repealer,
341
on them from windows. This is enough.
Nobody believes that the thing would ev-
er have been done ; but the lively and
repeated discussion of it shows how the
feelings of the ignorant are perverted,
and the passions of party-men are stimu-
lated in Ireland, when unscrupulous lead-
ers arise, proposing irrational projects.
The consequences have been seen in
Popish and Protestant fights in Ulster,
and in the midnight drill of Phoenix
Clubs in Munster, and in John Mitchell's
passion for fat negroes in the Slave States
of America. In Ireland such notions are
regarded now as a delirious dream, ex-
cept by a John Mitchell here and there.
Smith O'Brien himself declares that there
is nothing to be done while the people
of Ireland are satisfied with the govern-
ment they live under ; and that, if it were
otherwise, nothing can be done for a peo-
ple which either elects jobbers to Parlia-
ment, or suspects every man of being a
traitor who proceeds, when there, to do
the business of his function. I suspect-
ed that Patrick would find out some of
these things for himself in London ; and
I left him to make his own discoveries,
when I had pointed out one or two paths
of inquiry.
The process was a more rapid one than
I had anticipated. He reported his first
letter to the " Nation " with great satis-
faction. He had begun his work in Lon-
don. He went to the House of Com-
mons, and came away sorely perplexed.
After having heard and written so much
of the wrongs of Ireland under the dom-
ination of the English Parliament, he
found that Ireland actually and practi-
cally formed a part of that Parliament, —
the legislature being, not English, but
Imperial. He must have known this be-
fore ; but he had never felt it. He now
saw that Ireland was as well represented
as England or Scotland ; that political
offices were held in fair proportion by
Irishmen ; and that the Irish members
engrossed much more than a fair share
of the national time in debate and proj-
ects of legislation. He saw at once that
here was an end of all excuse for talk of
oppression by Parliament, and of all
complaints which assumed that Ireland
was unrepresented. He was previously
aware that Ireland was more lightly tax-
ed than the rest of the empire. The
question remained, whether a local legis-
lature would or would not be a better
thing than a share in the Imperial Par-
liament. This was a fair subject of ar-
gument ; but he must now dismiss all no-
tions grounded on the mistake of Ireland
being unrepresented, and oppressed by
the representatives of other people.
In the letter which disclosed these new
views Patrick reported his visit to O'-
Connell. He had reminded Lis friend,
the junior O' Council, of Dan's invitation
to him to go to see him in London ; and
he had looked forward to their levee with
delight and expectation. Whether he had
candidly expressed his thoughts about
the actual representation of Ireland, I
don't know ; but it was plain that he had
not much enjoyed the interview. O'Con-
nell looked very well : the levee was
crowded : O'Connell was surrounded by
ardent patriots : the junior O'Connell
had led Patrick up to his father with
particular kindness. Still, there was no
enthusiasm in the report ; and the next
letter showed the reason why. Patrick
could not understand O'Connell at alL
It was certain that Dan remembered
him; and he could not have forgotten
the encouragement he gave him to write
on behalf of his country; yet now he
was cold, even repellent in his man-
ner ; and he tried to pretend that he did
not know who Patrick was. What could
this mean ?
Again I trusted to Patrick's finding out
for himself what it meant. To be brief
about a phase of human experience which
has nothing new in it, Patrick presently
saw that the difficulty of governing Ire-
land by a local legislature and executive
is this : — that no man is tolerated from
the moment he can do more than talk.
Irish members under O'Connell's eye
were for the most part talkers only.
Then and since, every Irishman who
accepts the office so vehemently de-
34!^
The Young Repealer.
[September,
manded is suspected of a good under-
standing with Englishmen, and soon be-
comes reviled as a traitor and plaee-
liunter. Between the mere talkers and
the proscribed office-holders, Ireland
would get none of her business done,
if the Imperial Government did not un-
dertake affairs, and see that Ireland was
taken care of by somebody or other. Pat-
rick saw that this way of putting Gov-
ernment in abeyance was a mild copy
of what happened when a Parliament
sat in Dublin, perpetrating the most in-
solent tyranny and the vilest jobs ever
witnessed under any representative sys-
tem. He told me, very simply, that the
people of Ireland should send to Parlia-
ment men whom they could trust, and
should trust them to act when there : the
people should either demand a share of
office for their countrymen, or make up
their minds to go without; they ought
not first to demand office for Irishmen,
and then call every Irishman a traitor
and self-seeker who took it. In a very
short time he told me that he found he
had much to unlearn as well as learn :
that many things of which he had been
most sure now turned out to be mistakes,
and many very plain matters to be exceed-
ingly complicated; but that the one thing
about which there could be no mistake
"was, that, in such a state of opinion, he
was no proper guide for the readers of
the " Nation," and he had accordingly
sent in his resignation of his appoint-
ment, together with some notices to the
editor of the different light in which Irish
matters appear outside the atmosphere of
Kepeal meetings.
In thus cutting loose from his only means
of pecuniary support, Patrick forfeited al-
so his patriotic character. He was as thor-
oughly ruined in the eyes of Repealers
as if he had denounced the " Saxon " one
hour and the next crept into some warm
place in the Custom-House on his knees.
p Here ended poor Patrick's short politi-
cal life, after, I think, two letters to the
*' Nation," and here ended all hope of
aid from his countrymen in London. His
letter was very moving. He knew him-
self to be mortified by O'Connell's be-
havior to him ; but he felt that he could
not submit to be regarded with suspicion
because he had come to see for himself
how matters stood. He did not give up
Repeal yet: he only wanted to study
the case on better knowledge ; and in
order to have a perfectly clear con-
science and judgment, he gave up his
only pecuniary resource, — his love and
a future home being in the distance, and
always in view, all the time. Here, in
spite of some lingering of old hopes, two
scenes of his young hfe had closed. His
Irish life was over, and his hope of politi-
cal service.
I had before written about him to two
or three literary friends in London ; and
now I felt bound to see what could be
done in opening a way for him. He had
obtained the insertion of a tale in a mag-
azine, for which he had one guinea in
payment. This raised his spirits, and
gave him a hope of itidependence ; for it
was a parting of the clouds, and there
was no saying how much sunlight might
be let down. He was willing to apply
himself to any drudgery ; but his care to
undertake nothing that he was not sure
of doing well was very striking. He
might have obtained good work as classi-
cal proof-corrector; but he feared, that,
though his classical attainments were
good, his training had not qualified him
for the necessary accuracy. He had