THE BOOK OF THE HOUR.

Evening Star, Issue 10817, 29 December 1898, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE BOOK OF THE HOUR.

A MASTERLY 'LIFE OF PARNELL.* SOME EXTRACTS. [FeOM OtJB SPECIAL CORRESPOtfDENf.] LONDON, November li. The extraordinary fascination which the personality of Charles Stewart Parnell exercised, not only over his immediate followers, but over all he came across, has survived the grave. One fancied T. P. O'Connor's monograph had practically exhausted the patriot's biography. But this wasn't so. It merely fringed the subject. The real' Life of Parnell' appeared on Wednesday in two solid volumes, and at once became the book of the hour, The writer, Mr Bany O'Brien (a faithful follower of "the chief," despite.Buffering much at his hands), has done the work exceedingly well. Mr Parnell neither kept diaries nor wrote letters, and those he received he oftener than not burnt without reading. MiO'Brien had, therefore, none of the biographer's usual sources to draw upon. His portrait is, nevertheless, vivid, clear-cut, and curiously unprejudiced. He knew Parnell very well indeed, and he throws many interesting side-lr hts on his perplexing character. The following clippings give Borne idea of the book's interest: Of Parnell's icy hauteur and contemptuous toleration of his colleagues Mr O'Brien gives many amusing instances. " How did Mr Parnell look when he came to your mce'iuii?" an Irish member was asked by an English Radical after the divorce case. " Well," said the Irish member, " he looked as if we had committed adultery with his wife." Walking with his private secretary in the Strand, Parnell was one day Baluted by a Nationalist member, " Who is that P" he asked Mr Campbell. "Don't you know?" was the answer. "It is one of our party, Mr - I —." "Ah!" said Parnell, "I did not know we had such an ugly man in the party." But for contemptuous insolence nothing can surpass his conduct when the Lord Mayor of Dublin presented him, from the Irish people, with the Parnell Tribute—a sum of £37,000. Hiß Lordship, who had a pretty knack of speech, had naturally prepared a few appropriate observations. The ceremony was to be held at Morrison's Hotel. The Lord Mayor, having been announced, bowed and began: "Mr Parnell- —" "I believe," said Parnell, " you have got a cheque for me." The Lord JUtyor, somewhat surprised at this interruption, suid "Yes," and was about to recommence his speech when Parnell broke in: "Is it made payable to order and crossed P" The Lord Mayor again answered in the affirmative, and was resuming the thread of his discourse when Parnell took the cheque, folded it neatly, and put it into his waistcoat pocket. This ended the interview. The whole busia ss was disposed of in five minutes, and there was no speechmaking. Parnell's superstitions are well known. A friend, visiting him in his cell, brought him a finely-worked table cloth, but on returning found his offering huddled away in a corner. It was green, and green, Mr Parnell explained, j was an unlucky color. It was at about the same time that he was corsfdeiSHg a Land Bill to amend tho Act of 1881. He went cerfrefully through the draft, and struck out a clause which he considered objectionable. When the task was completed, and the fair copy made, " This will never do," he exclaimed. "There are thirteen clauKes" No time was to be lost if the Bill was to reach the Queen's printers in time for distribution. Mr Parnell and the draftsmen were in perplexity. At last a gleam flashed from his eyes. "I have it," said he: "add that clause of yours, and that will get us out of the difficulty." Parnell was once explaining to a fnend in the'smoking room that he knew he was no match for Mr Gladstone. An Irish member entered. Parnell, shaking the ashes from a cigar, looked at him, adding quickly, with an arch smile: " But he thinks he is a match for Mr Gladstone." In his youth Parnell was much occupied | chiefly with field sports and cricket. "We considered him ill-tempered," an associate has declared, "in his conduct of that pastime." A match had been commenced between the Wicklow and Phoenix Clubs, but on a dispute arising on the field Parnell, as captain of the former, marohed his men off the ground, though they wanted to give way, and have their day's pleasure. He always insisted—this future inventor of parliamentary obstruction —on the strictest rules of the game, and on one occasion claimed a wicket because the next batsman was not quite up to time. !* How is the No-rent Manifesto working, Mr Parnell ?" said a visitor to Kilmainham. " All I know about it is that my own tenants are acting striotliiip to it," was the grim answer. One night^™" went *° a mus '° hall. "He sat," savs the narrator, " and seemed to me to be half" asleep most of the time." But an acrobat soon appeared, and Parnell suddenly woke up. He watched this man all the while, then said to me: "Now, why should that man be tumbling about on the tsage and I sitting here? Why shouldn't Ibe on the stage and ho here? Chance, just that. You gee everything is chance." The Plan of Campaign he always sli-liked, though he tacitly had to accept it. Au musing story is told of his sitting in the House of Commons smoking room, while the wrangles in Committee Room No. 15 were still in progress. In an absent way, he exclaimed: " Yes; I always felt it would end in this way." His companion, a sympathising adherent, thought he referred to the divorce scandal. "Yes" repeated the Chief, "I always said it would end badly." "What," at length the other inquired, "what would end badly?" " The Plan of Campaign," answered Parnell. Parnell was physically timid. He loved dogs, but had a morbid dread of hydrophobia; and it is known that in later years he went about in fear of assassination. He had a wav of disguising himself in the streets, and hated to be accosted. This is Mr O'Brien's account of one of his last interviews with the Chief: : I said: "Hold together. Thox-e is an end, ko that for a long time. It will take you ten years to pull the country together again." : "No," he rejoined, very quietly; "I will do it* in five years—that is what I calculate." > " Well, Gladstone will be dead then," I said. '"The whole question to me is, you and Mr Gladstone. If you both go, Home Rule will go with you for this generation." . '. ■" But I will not go," he answered, angrily. "lam a young man, and I will not go.' And there was a fierce flash in his eyes which was not pleasant to look at. v A few weeks later he was dead. i .