JOHN MITCHEL.* IN the record of the life of John

Mitchel and his companions in the Irish revolutionary movement of 1848, two facts stana out in strong relief. The first is the moral and intellectual superiority of the Young Ireland Party when compared with the Nationalists of to-day ; the second, the greater wisdom displayed in our present legislative and administrative dealings with Irish disorder. The superiority of the men of '48 is all the more remarkable when we remember that the Parnellite movement is the direct and legitimate descendant of that in which John Mitchel played so conspicuous a part. Though with John Mitchel as the advocate of Irish independence or the upholder of the slave-owning, slave-driving, slave-breeding States of the South in their attempt to destroy the unity of the England beyond the Atlantic, we have not the slightest feeling of sympathy. We are perfectly willing to admit that—but for one action of his life—he was an honourable and straightforward rebel. To the men he hated, and of the nation whose downfall he desired, he never hesitated to say what he meant. Never would John Mitchel have assumed the double-faced mask of the Par- nellites, or have found one tongue for the Irish peasants, another for the English platform and the House of Commons.

Never would John Mitchel have degraded himself by heaping the foulest and most hideous imputations of a

purely personal kind upon a political opponent under

the excuse that the opponent "was a figure-head, and had to be attacked ;" or have shrieked and screamed because he or his companions, when they wittingly and deliberately broke the laws, were condemned to suffer the same punishment as that endured by the peasants they had encouraged to similar acts of lawlessness. Thus, though we cannot alter our feelings in regard to his opinions, at any rate we may look upon him with respect as a man. As to our second point, it is impossible - not to feel that the Government would have done much better.

to have let Mitchel alone, unless and, until he had incited Irish- men to any special and particular act of crime. The policy pur- sued at present is in every way the wisest and most prudent- Let a man write as much treason as he will, let him look forward to help from foreign nations, let him rejoice in English reverses, let him roll to his heart's content in the filth he has collected for attacks upon his opponents : as long as he confines himself to generalities and the use of bad language, he will do no harm. When, however, he writes so as to single out individuals for attack, to encourage their in-. timidation, or to hold them up to popular odium in a way which endangers their personal safety, then, since the offence has become definite and specific, let him be proceeded against and treated exactly like any other man who is guilty of

criminal practices. Mere rhetorical recommendations to people in general to take up arms to resist foreign laws and to

overthrow the tyrant and his creatures, &c., &c., such as were the seditious writings of Mitchel, are much better treated as they are treated now,—that is, with complete indifference.

Leave the safety-valve of rhetoric as wide open as possible. The moment, however, that incitements to actual crime are put forth, punish such incitements promptly and adequately,— that is the true policy.

The two volumes which compose the biography of John Mitchel, if they tell his life somewhat drily, and often without

• The Life of John Mitchel. By William Dillon. 2 voila London: Kagan Pazd, Trench, and Co. 1888.

any great regard to precision in the details, give, at any rate, a very fair picture of the man. What cannot help striking the reader who has studied them with attention, is the fact which his biographer tells us struck an American lady with whom Mitchel was on terms of great intimacy in his later years, namely,—that it was " an ironical destiny that had thrust him into politics ;" and that, in fact, he was "better fitted for anything else." Mitchel was, in truth, a man of Letters possessed of a fiery and passionate temperament, and armed with a singular power of writing and thinking clearly. Of him it is, indeed, hardly too much to say that the style was the man. In his extraorilinarily vivid and creative faculty of words, the moral and intellectual forces of Mitchel's

nature seemed to centre. He was not a leader of men nor an organiser of agitation, like O'Connell. Indeed, though liked

by his immediate friends, the personal influence exerted by him seems to have been small. His power-was in his pen. Here, it may be said, he produced an effect which, without exaggeration, may be compared to that produced by Swift. Though not, of oourse, so great a genius or so consummate an artist, he had something of Swift's power to "bite into the live man's flesh for parchment," and to inflame the hearts of those who read him. Like Swift, too, his words were cold, and burnt, not with fire, but as steel burns in the regions of Arctic frost. Mitchel, however, could not, considering the times during which he reached maturity, have helped devoting himself to politics. . Born in 1815, the son of an 'Ulster Presbyterian clergyman, Mitchel at first thought of entering the ministry ; became, however, instead a solicitor ; and then finally, at the bidding of his Nationalist aspirations, a journalist. Into the record of the events of the Young Ireland movement we do not intend to go, though we may notice that they are stated fairly enough • from the Nationalist standpoint, notwithstanding that the • writer, Mr. William Dillon, is evidently possessed by almost as bitter a hatred of England as the subject of his biography. We shall also only make one remark as to Mitchel's flight from Tasmania after he had pledged his word not to attempt to escape without first surrendering himself into custody.

his condition he only- colourably fulfilled by walking into a police-station armed, and accompanied by two armed com-

panions, -there presenting the police officer with a note with- drawing his pledge, asking to be taken into custody, and then immediately mounting a swift horse and escaping. If this is the honourable keeping of a parole, then the notion of granting parole to prisoners is a ridiculous farce. A parole, if it is not an honourable understanding sacred from the quibbles with which a lawyer defends the sham and colourable

fulfilment of a contract, is an utter absurdity.

We cannot close our remarks upon the book before us with- out-noticing the manner- in which Mitchel was treated by the Government of the United States at the close of the war. Mitchel had fought with his pen throughout it and before it in defence of the South, and of a state of society based upon that system of slavery which-he so fervently admired. When the war was over, he became editor of a New York paper, and -continued his advocacy of the Southern side by attacking the Government with great vehemence. He was warned to desist, but refused, and then found that the younger branch of the 'English race acted with more promptitude and vigour than the 'elder. General Grant made out a military warrant for his 'arrest. Mitchel was-seized, put on board a Government steamer, and conveyed to Fortress Munroe, where he was kept as a State prisoner, without trial, and without even being told what offence he had committed. He was confined there for four months and a half, during about half of which time he was • kept in solitary confinement, without books or exercise, and upon the worst of diet. This is the account of his treatment, which we commend to those who think that the Tinglish Government behaves to prisoners in a way which would never for a moment be tolerated by any other civilised people :—

"As soon as he left the steamer, Mitchel was at once conducted to the fortress, closely guarded. Arrived there, he was shown to a small vaulted room, lighted by a casemate porthole. In one corner was an iron bedstead; in another a little deal table. The officer informed Mitchel that this was to be his abode. Mitchel then asked whether he could go out for fresh air at anytime; 'whether he could see Mr. Davis or Mr. Clay; whether he might have books to read. To all these questions the answer was—no. He then asked if he would be allowed tobacco. This the officer promised to procure for him; but, as we shall see, the promise -was not kept. The officer then retired. Shortly afterwards the door was again unbarred, and a corporal entered. He carried in his hand a lump of bread and a piece of cold pork, and these he placed, just as they were, upon the dirty table, without any such superfluous luxuries as plates or knives or forks. Mr. Davis, a few days previously, had been served with his first rations in like manner, and resented the insult by throwing the rations in the corporal's face, and had thereupon been at once put in irons. Mitchel thought it likely that the object of the present proceeding waste entrap him into some similar act of violence. He therefore commanded his temper, and only said, Thank you, sir ; if I had a knife and fork and a plate, I could dine now.' The only answer was a repetition of the announcement, There's your rations,' in a loud and insolent tone of voice. Mitchel said no more, and the corporal walked away. In the course of the evening, General Niles, the commander of the fortress, came to see his new prisoner. He was civil, but not communicative. Mitchel asked why, having been neither accused nor tried, he should at the start be treated as a felon. To this the General's brief answer was. I execute my orders.' Being asked as to tobacco, he repeated the promise already given, that tobacco, not being forbidden, would be fur- nished. This promise was afterwards several times repeated by other officers, but it was not till Mitchel had been a month in prison that he was furnished with a little paper of tobacco. For two months after Mitchel's arrest the course of treatment was such as above described. During this time the prisoner was allowed no exercise and no books ; and the food was of such a kind and served in such a manner as to be all but uneatable to a man accustomed to the decencies of civilised life. As might be expected, the treat- ment very soon produced a, marked effect upon Mitchel's health. Want of food and want of healthful exercise for mind or body made him very unwell. He could no longer sleep at nights. At first he tried to take exercise by walking up and down his little room. But soon, through -weakness, he was no longer able to do even this to any considerable extent. No wonder that, as he tells us, the twenty-four hours grew intolerably long. During this weary time, Mitchel had several more brief interviews with General Miles. The manner of this official was such as to impress Mitchel with the idea that he did not very much relish the orders he had to execute. And this surmise was in fact correct. The details of Mitchel's treatment were minutely regulated by orders from the War Department."

The events of Mitchel's life connected with his return in the year 1875 as Member for County Tipperary, and the struggle between the House of Commons and the constituency which was averted by his degth, are too well -known to need recital. It may be mentioned, however, that Mr. William Dillon attributes the breakdown in his health which occurred in 1866, and ended in his death at the compara- tively early age of sixty from a general failure of the con- stitution more thanircon any specific disease, to the severities suffered by him while imprisoned in America. Whether that is the case or not, it would be impossible for no to determine. Of one thing, however, we feel sure, and that is, that General Grant, who, as Commander-in-Chief of the armies of the United States, was responsible for Mitchel's imprisonment, was no more anxious to injure his health than is Mr. Balfour or the Irish Prisons Board to injure the health of the Parnellite Members who are at the present moment undergoing sentence. That Irishmen will admit this, we do not, of course, expect. It may, however, be of interest to many Englishmen to notice that Irishmen all over the world bring similar accusations against those who force them to obedience, to order, and good government.