From The Life of John Mitchel, Vol. 1, by William Dillon. The letter is dated from October 6, 1852.
Under date October 6, 1852, there is a letter to Smith O’Brien, also interesting as indicating the differences between his and O’Brien’s views on Irish affairs. He refers first to the efforts of American and Irish friends to obtain the release of himself and his fellow-prisoners. He expresses anger at the Phoenix Park petitions, on account of their servility, and says he has denounced and will denounce them fiercely. He then goes on:—
Now, I know that, between you and me on all these points, there is no solidarity. We seem to regard our politics differently. You admit that there is law in Ireland and that you were virtually and substantially tried by that law. I deny that there is any law at all, and that, if there be, I was tried at all. Therefore, I regard myself as a captive in the hands of pirates. You are content to accept the defeat of the insurrectionary attempt as a pronouncement of the country for British dominion, and you would know, if permitted, settle quietly in Ireland, and disturb English dominion no more. But the breath of my nostrils is rebellion against that accursed empire. I shall die either a rebel or the citizen of a free Irish state. And wherever the British flag throws its poisonous shadow, I may find a prison or a grave; but a home never. Then there are institutions, social and political, in Ireland, which you respect, which you would not overthrow or declare war upon, even if that were proved needful in order to wrest the island from Britain. But I would clear our country of the English, at the price of levelling all that now stands there, at the price of leaving the surviving inhabitants as bare of all social and political order and garniture, as were the men of Deucalion when they ceased to be stones.
That all my notions are a dream is possible. It may be that our cause is down and the history of Ireland over. But with those notions, can I sit silent and hear pardon asked for me because of the country being quiet, that is, being subdued, and not disavow and rebuke the petitioners?
It may be, too, that this last,1 as well as several former letters of mine, may form part of the reason why the British Government perpetuate our captivity; for, you see, they notice our non-contrition. And it would be indeed hard if, with the very marked differences that have divided you from the ultra-republican party, and especially from me, first and last—it would be hard if your exile should be prolonged through my means. Therefore I am very glad that you have thought it right to make these movements in our favour the occasion of explaining your own share and your own views on the movement. In fact that should be so fully done that hereafter, when men speak of ‘Mr. Smith O’Brien and his associates,’ there will be no danger of any one including me. In so far as I was associated with you, I am proud of it. I desire to have the full credit of it. But I also desire neither to exalt myself nor to injure you by taking credit for an identification that neither does, nor ever did, exist.
Perhaps the present is just the very moment to set these matters right. I have not, in the letter I wrote for publication, alluded to any differences between us at all. But if you have not already done what is needful in the affair (and possibly you have not fully done it out of consideration for some of us), let me suggest to you to lose no time. Forgive me, if I seem obtrusive with my advice, and attribute it to the uneasiness which really oppresses me when I think that the violence and bitterness of letters which I may write, may come to be visited on you from the habit people have got of lumping us all together. I entreat that no tenderness for me will prevent you from effectually setting yourself right. You cannot damage me more with the British Government than I continually damage myself by my letters.
1 Referring to a letter written to Father Kenyon for publication in reference to the ‘Phoenix Park Petitions.’