lin) I found a formidable anti-Union Association completed, called the Trade Union, headed by a man of popular qualifications, who was capable of success. I took his people out of his hands, and not only turned them, but I can say turned the rest of the country, from the overpowering question of Repeal to the suitable one of Reform."

Notwithstanding the Whigs' betrayal of him he returned them to power again after they had been thrown out, and kept them in power by the dependable bulk of his following.

Throughout the 'Thirties O'Connell seemed to work in complete forgetfulness of the one big fact which the agitation of the 'Twenties should have stamped indelibly on his mind, namely, that an Ireland lulled by the opiate of English friendship always proved to be an Ireland fooled; while an Ireland rebellious was an Ireland successful.

The Whigs, now needing his support, made formal alliance with him, flattered him, promised him, lured him on, gave minor offices to his friends, tried to tempt himself with office-an idea that indeed he pleasantly toyed with, but finally dismissed—and left him in the lurch.

Acting under the opiate, he, in '34, called on the country to try a six year “experiment"—to let Repeal remain in abeyance for that time, and see what Ireland's good friend, the Whigs, would do for her. And such was the faith and the confidence of the people in O'Connell, that, almost without a murmur they spiked their own guns on the battlefield, just to prove their trust in a generous enemy! And the poor fools were, of course, repaid according to their folly.

And during those years, the "experiment" years, Ireland got from the Whig Government the Poor Law Act (which O'Connell considered a curse instead of a cure), the Tithes Act which added three-quarters of that impost to their rent-and on the strength of which complacent Dan called upon the people to cease their tithe agitation-an Act forbidding subletting, and an Act to make ejectments easy. Bishop Doyle approved of the latter two Acts on the ground that they would help to save Ireland from poverty, and he was sorry they were not enacted thirty years before!

It was little wonder that in the late 'Thirties the Whig-be fooled Dan found his popularity waning, got down-hearted, depressed, discouraged, and in '39 made retreat in Mt. Melleray to regain his calm. "It mortifies but does not surprise me," he wrote to a

friend, "to find that I have exhausted the bounty of the Irish people. God help me! What shall I do?" He talked of retiring permanently into a monastery.

He came out of his Mount Melleray retreat-with a mind much calmed-able collectedly to review his position and make his plans. But only a miracle could rehabilitate him.

CHAPTER LXVII

THE GREAT REPEAL FIGHT

BUT the miracle happened.

And the blessed word that evoked the miracle was Repeal!

When, by a fortunate inspiration, the great man boldly uttered again the witching word which, for six years forbidden, had been heard not, or only heard in whispers, it resounded from hill to hill to the island's uttermost corner. It seemed whisked on the wings of life, till a million mouths re-echoed it. A land that had been settling into the silence of mild despair, suddenly burst into a great song of hope again; and the hero who was falling from his pedestal, was, by this magic word, now lifted to a pinnacle that he had never reached before.

In 1840 O'Connell founded the National Association of Ireland for repeal. The statements of principle which he wrote were led in by a true O'Connell flourish of superlative loyalty, pledging "most dutiful and ever inviolate loyalty to our gracious and everbeloved sovereign queen, Victoria, her heirs and successors forever" and by another characteristically O'Connell flourish of law-worship, spiced with piety: "The total disclaiming of, and absence from, all physical force, violence, or breach of the law, or in short, any violation of the laws of man or the ordinances of the Eternal God whose holy name be ever blessed." The hero was getting his old rhetorical stride again.

And in the intensity of his loyalty to his beloved sovereign the name of the Association was, in '41, improved into the Loyal National Repeal Association.

The Repeal movement was undoubtedly popularised-if such were possible and materially stimulated by a couple of big happenings in the Dublin Corporation in these years. In '41 was elected, for the first time in history, a Nationalist corporation in Dublin. Under the Municipal Reform Act, just obtained, the old Dublin Corporation, citadel of ultra-Orangeism, was wiped out and replaced by one that was five-sixths Nationalist. And to the frenzied delight of Dublin, and all Ireland, Dan O'Connell was elected the first Nationalist Lord Mayor.

So profound was the respect for Dan's sincerity and broadmindedness that the few Orangemen left in the new Corporation stood up, in company with the Nationalist members, to do him honour. And Dan, in accepting the office, then said: "I pledge myself to this, that in my capacity as Lord Mayor no one will be able to discover my politics from my conduct.-In my capacity as a man though," he added, "I am a Repealer to my last breath."

When, in response to the myriad cries of the multitude of citizens who surged outside the City Hall, Dan, coming to a window, showed himself in his robes of office, the dramatic sight of a real Irishman filling the robes of the Lord Mayor of Dublin, set the multitude frantic with joy. In that rare sight they saw concrete token that their fearfully long toil was bearing fruit; and ages of suffering and striving being crowned by heaven with reward. The rags were surely falling from the Mother's shoulders, the fetters from her limbs; she was coming into her own again. With lighter heart and more hopeful, Ireland bent to the fight for Repeal.

The second stimulus was the great Repeal debate in the Dublin Corporation, where the new Lord Mayor made a Repeal speech, which, to the eager people who in every corner of the land devoured the report of it, was one of the most wonderful of his career. By overwhelming majority was carried a resolution to present a Repeal petition to Parliament. The great debate, from its first word to its last reported verbatim in all the papers, and carried to the farthest remote cabin in the most remote valleys of the Island, mightily swelled the enthusiasm with which the nation simmered, and multiplied the people's determination this time to win their goal.

From the day of his election to the Mayoralty it felt fine to the people to address Dan, one of their own, as "Your Lordship" and "My Lord." And it was all the happier for that the rich expression, far from having to be said in a frightened or cowering fashion, could be trolled out in a hail-fellow-well-met tone-to a lordship, who, instead of freezing one with an Arctic token of acknowledgment, answered with a smile that would melt the heart of a millstone. The mob henceforward delighted to run ahead of his lordship, on the street, crying to the waiting crowd, "Hats off, for his lordship!" And woe to the beaver head-covering of any crusty old Tory who was slow to uncover at the cry!

There was a great scene when, in his rich robes of office, Lord Mayor O'Connell rode through the streets attended by the Aldermen in their robes, to the Roman Catholic Cathedral. The very hardihood of making those robes, so long consecrated to Orange

ism, ride to a Roman Catholic Cathedral, was refreshing to the populace.

But the great man never forgot method in his madness. As, with truly British ingenuity, the Act which emancipated Catholics decreed a fine of one hundred pounds for the criminal who would attend a Papist place of worship in robes of office, Dan got from under his robes outside the Cathedral door-where the Orange vestments surlily waited on the porch till his lordship returned from his idolatry.

Now the Repeal movement was in full swing. And O'Connell filled the land with the agitation. In wonderful speech after speech bristling with urge, ringing with hope, and thundering with defiance, he fostered the ferment in which the populace found itself.

"What good have we obtained from England in the season of her prosperity ?" he thundered in the Association Hall. "She has made us weep tears of blood. But she may want us yet. Is there, even now, no hurricane threatening her from the other side of the Atlantic, careering against the sun, advancing with the speed of heaven's lightning? Hear we not the rattling of the hail, the driving of the tempest? Is there no danger that we may be needed to defend the western possessions of Britain? Look next at France-is she so kind, so friendly, as she has been? Does the aspect of the Continent in general promise to England a continuance of Continental friendship? Then, England's eastern territories are they safe? Let Afghanistan answer! Saw you not the gallant regiment that passed along the quay a few moments ago? Whither go they? To India or to China? What signs are there of peace? From east to west, from north to south, a storm is lowering-through the darkening atmosphere we can hear the boom of the distant thunder-we discern the flashes of the coming lightning." But then, ever mindful of his loyalty, seasoning the defiance with the spice of fealty, he continues: "Yet even in the midst of the tempest may England have safety. She will need the aid of Irishmen. She shall have that aid. But"-his loyalty having testified, the politician speaks, "Irishmen require a bribe. Here am I who want a bribe. I will take a bribe. I must get a bribe. And my bribe is Repeal of the Union!"

"Grattan," he told them, again, "sat by the cradle of his country, and followed its hearse. It has been left to me to sound the resurrection trumpet, and show that our country was not dead, but only slept." And by such figures, rung out in the magnificent