From The Irishman, May 29, 1880.
‘A promise given to Mr. Johnson when no one else was in the field—a promise given under such circumstances—had not the slightest validity, and such promises became immoral when the electors had a man before them in whom they could place implicit confidence.’—Mr. Parnell at Mallow.
‘He was in the Repeal movement, and in every other movement for the good of his country since the time of O’Connell, and this was the first movement he ever saw a poor man getting a shilling or a sixpence out of.’—Mr. Harris at Ballinasloe.1
‘May Ireland’s voice be ever heard
Amid the world’s applause!
And never be her flag-staff stirred
But in an honest cause!
May freedom be her very breath,
Be justice ever dear;
And never an ennobled death
May son of Ireland fear?’
—Thomas Davis.
Paris, May 25, 1880.
SIR—I do not know that I need make any very lengthy comment upon the headings to this letter. It seems, according to our new moral Mentor, that such promises as he thinks rash are not to be kept, and it appears, according to others, that it is a new merit of the agitation—or a merit of the new agitation—that some of the former agitators have got something out of it. No theory has as yet been formulated on the subject of oaths; but a rather new practice has sprung up of late, and that is, that men should swear conflicting oaths, and keep (or break) whichever suits the swearer’s convenience. Sanguine people of loose principles seem confident that the much-swearing gentlemen will break the oath to England rather than the other one; but I can feel no such confidence, and anyway, I do not believe that it is the duty of a patriot to perjure himself. But there are patriots and patriots. To the simple soul of Davis it seemed that our striving should ever be in an honest cause, to which justice should be ever dear; in other words, that our means and ends should be just, and we ourselves, so far as our frail humanity will allow, above fear and beyond reproach. But our modern Machiavellis have changed all this. Their means are such as I scarcely care to speak about, and their ends, in so far as they have any other than their own worldly advancement, are either unjust or unattainable. In short, the talk is of the tallest,2 and the men are of the smallest.
To turn from ethics to politics. I do not, of course, pretend to treat the land question exhaustively in a portion of a letter. It is a question which, like the far greater one of nationality, must wait, whether we like it or not. I merely take it up now to show the utterly reckless and unscrupulous way in which it is treated by the present race of agitators, and, still more, to point out that this land question, highly important as it is, is in no sense a question of nationality at all, and may easily be discussed and agitated, not only without any advantage, but probably with serious injury to the national cause. The constant talk about the abolition of landlordism is semi-socialism and whole nonsense, and the almost equally frequent assertions that landlordism has been abolished in France, Prussia, and elsewhere, are either gross ignorance or rank roguery; perhaps in most cases somewhat of an ugly mixture of both. The plain truth is, that landlordism has been abolished nowhere, and is little likely to be abolished anywhere for the next thousand years, if it is destined to be abolished at all. As to the Land League’s programme of buying out the landlords at twenty years’ purchase, and, en attendant, stopping the payment of rent for two years, I have only to say, all right, if the Land League were the British Parliament, and provided that landlords (who, after all, are only ‘men and brothers’) were not forced to sell, and that such tenants as could easily pay were made to pay. But what is the use of speculating on the advantages of a measure which, in the eyes of all sensible people, is about as attainable as the North Pole.
Yielding, however, for a moment, in imagination only, to the wild vision of the Leaguers, we may fairly ask what then? Are we any nearer to a free Ireland? Will the absence of landlords be any consolation for the continual domination of England? It would most certainly be none to me, and I cannot think so ill of any large number of my countrymen as to suppose them willing to forego freedom for any mere material advantages. People may, of course, say that, with the people rooted in the land, and the landlords rooted out of it, we might make greater efforts for the greater end of having Ireland for the Irish. But this is at the best rather problematical, and, as far as I can see, there is nothing in the present agitation that even tends towards nationality. The movement is essentially a social one, and, in a sense, international3, seeking an alliance with Bradlaughs and other blatant Britishers, who may aid in the extirpation of landlords, but have openly avowed their hostility to all our attempts to shake off their vile yoke. To be sure, the agitators talk much, too, and often, about lead and pikes and guns, but all these implements of war are merely to be used for local agrarian purposes, and, apparently, by mere local and low-class people. Mr. O’Donnell talks in the English House of Commons as if insurrection were imminent, and declares it, under the circumstances he presumes, quite justifiable, ‘armed he cared not whether with fire-arms or scythes.’ This is very like the French statesman who entered upon the late war ‘with a light heart.’ Emile Olivier’s heart was light, but he made many a heavy heart in France. Absit omen. I cannot in the least look with anything but dismay at the prospect of an insurrection, or insurrectionary proceedings, in the present state of the country, and most certainly I could never at any time share Mr. O’Donnell’s sublime indifference about fire-arms. But naturally these agitating gentlemen and I have very different ways of looking on these matters. I do not think I should be a mere looker-on upon an insurrection instigated by me, and therefore this little matter of fire-arms would be a matter of some, even personal importance; but nobody in his senses ever thought that the agitators mean to take any personal part in such violent proceedings as their rash language may provoke.
But I am getting very tired of my task, and besides, I have, at this present moment, very little time at my disposal. Morality and nationality are high themes, and ought to refresh the weary spirit, and yet I feel as if I were in mud up to my throat. Let me seek consolation (and cleanliness) again in the old but orthodox gospel of Davis:
‘Never under wrongs despair;
Labour long, and everywhere
Link your countrymen, prepare
And strike home.
Thus have great men ever wrought,
Thus must greatness still be sought,
Thus laboured, loved, and fought,
Greece and Rome.’
Your obedient servant,
JOHN O’LEARY.
P.S.—A patriotic friend of mine thought I must have mislaid the almost inevitable postscript this time. He was mistaken, but I cannot blame him for his natural error, and perhaps I may as well avail myself of this opportunity to let your readers into the secret of these postscripts. Being necessarily obliged to write long before publication, I frequently find that something fresh crops up in such Irish papers as I may see after writing, and before sending off my letter. For instance, as I write, I find a fresh illustration of my theme in the speech of a Mr. Brennan, who, I may parenthetically remark, is one of the very tallest, if not the very tallest, talker of a time of rampant and ridiculous rhetoric. Mr. Brennan urges upon his hearers ‘a healthy and vigorous agitation for their social rights.’ He also says, unintelligibly to me, but I hope with some faint glimmer of a meaning to himself, that ‘they were the followers of Stein rather than of Robespierre.’ One would imagine that it was of more importance to an Irish audience to learn whether a man were a follower of Wolfe Tone or Grattan. Mr. Brennan then goes on to say that ‘they wanted to accomplish a peaceful revolution,’ and then tries to show how that is to be done, but doesn’t quite succeed. Perhaps Mr. Brennan might as well tell his next audience that he is a follower of Tom Steele, rather than of John Mitchel. I never greatly admired that ‘hero’ of song called ‘Brennan on the Moor;’ but I do not know that he is not more acceptable to my sense of the fitness of things than this Brennan on the platform.
1 I am not quite certain of Mr. Harris’s meaning, but if it be other than what I take it to be, then he has expressed himself very ill.
2 I give as fine a specimen of tall talk as I have ever read, and I can easily leave the reader to find out the small men for himself. The Italics are mine—‘Mr. Parnell urged them to organise themselves against the oppressive land law, as the day was dawning when they would have taken the first step to strike down British misrule in Ireland—when the dreams of Grattan, of Emmet, of Fitzgerald, and of every patriotic Irishman at all times would be brought to a triumphant realisation.’ It will heighten the fun of this specimen of rhetoric to notice that it was delivered in Tralee at a meeting apparently got up by the O’Donoghue, when that honourable gentleman himself ‘orated’ in the tallest fashion upon things in general, and traitors in particular. The force of coolness could no farther go.
3 Perhaps the agitating men may refuse to consider England another nation, but then they would be only proving a part of my case.