"TAY PAY" O'CONNOR.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIV, Issue 13390, 19 January 1907, Page 1 (Supplement)

"TAY PAY" O'CONNOR.

A NOTABLE IRISH JOURNALIST. Thomas Power O'Connor, familiarly known as "Tay Pay." the well-known Irish journalist and Parliamentarian, lives at n handsomely-furnished cottage-like home called Oakley Lodge. 9, Upper Cheyno Row, Chelsea. Carlyle readers will recall that, the famous author lived near this

address. As a matter of fact, you could shy a stone from "T.P.V house into Carlyle"s garden.

Mr. O'Connor has few fails or habits. He is almost a teetotaller. As to smoking, he has said : '* I have been trying to smoke since 1 was eight years old, but never succeeded. I can manage with from two to four cigarettes a day, but as to cigars or pipes— not any."

He is an ardent golfer, and also a vete ran cyclist.

The story of "Tay Pay's'' rise through very rial hardships to his present commanding place as a journalist and leader of the Irish members in Parliament reads romantically enough. He has briefly told it himself, though his narrative will bear addition and emendation. He sa.vs: —

'■ J was bom in AtUlone, Ireland, on October 5, 1848. My father and mother were both well educated people, the former being a great loiter writer. You will doubtless have heard some very romantic stories about my early career, but there is really nothing in them. Fortunately, I had the advantage of an excellent education, and managed to take my university degree when eighteen years old at Queen's College, Galwav. At, that age. usually, hoys mit just beginning their university careers in Kngland. " The political views which 1 hold are, I lei'.'ht say, hereditary, .My grandfather fought at Vinegar Hill—one of the big lights of the rebellion of 1798—and my lather figured in the movement of 1313. " 1 first begun my working life as a reporter on a newspaper—Saunder's Newsletter, of Dublin, hi entering newspaper work I cannot say that my prospects were very brilliant. "One of the tirst things 1 tackled was ,i meeting of financier?. 1 knew then about as much as I do now about money matters, and when I heard about, 'debentures' arid ' money being cheap,' and things like that, it was worse than Greek to me, for I did know some Greek, but nothing about the money question. Von can imagine what my report of this meeting was like. "I resolved to come to London. In taking this resolution I was influenced by the same motives, 1 suppose, that have brought other people here. London was my Mecca, and 1 determined once I got there never to leave it. "Well, in 1870 1 reached London with £»! in my pocket, and began my search for work. For six weeks I tramped the streets, seeking any sort of employment. J tried to get a place as a shorthand •writer, or anything else, but failed. 1 did not despair, however, and the thought never entered my head of leaving London, no matter what the outlook. I spent six weeks walking tip twelve sets of stairs. "Finally, through political influence, I managed to get a letter to Sir Edward Lawson, who started me in on the Daily Telegraph as a. sort of odd man at a salary of £3 a week. I remained on the Telegraph or a year and a-half, and during that time my two most notable pieces of work were the translation M knew both French and German very well) of Count Bismarck's despatch about the surrender of Napoleon at Sedan and the description of the arrival at Hastings of the Empress Fugenie. "Striving to better myself, I asked for and obtained a position in the London office of the New York Herald, and remained in that place for about a year and ii-lialf. "'then began for me a period of about three years of utmost misery—the usual fate of the young writer. l' knew what hunger and despair meant. 1 tackled anything that came to handshort article's, stories, and "penny dreadfuls'—and I went through the tire of rejected manuscripts. "It seemed to me in those days that if I could become a publisher's reader it would be well. I went about seeking such a post, and chanced to meet S. 0. Beetsou, who told me there were better things in store for me, suggesting that 1 write a book. "I could not think of such a proposition without alarm, hi -the first place, 1 had no confidence in my ability to write, and many years passed before 1 could bring myself to think I had anv talent m that direction.

"I" all this lime the thought, never occurred to me to enter politics, and if it did I banished it, from my mind. I firmly set my face it gainst Irish politics above all things, for jn considering the lives of famous Irish leaders—from O'Connell to Unit, and I may say from the latter to 1 arnoll—there seemed nothing but tragedy and wretchedness.

I attribute my success in the journalistic lino to. the fact that I became a very close student of American journalism, winch was a radical departure in those days, though subsequent English publications have also fallen into imitating the American press. I think the influence of American newspapers on English journalism has been almost revolutionary. " My becoming a. member of Parliament was practically a matter of chance. One of my best friends had resigned the seat from Galway, and many of mv friends asked me to take his place. I "was well known in Cahvay, having spent mv boyhood there, and had made a number of speeches there in debates and things of that .sort. My 'Life of Lord Beaconsfield had also contributed to a better knowledge of me in my native land.

"At the same time I encountered a tremendous amount of opposition from the wealthy class, and mv seat was not easily won. In the first place, the expenses of •he elect ion—something like £200— fell heavily upon me.

Ihe sheriff - fees had to he paid, ami I had no money. I managed to raise.'a small amount, of money from mv Beaconsti'dd hook in the way'of an advance; and Villi scat was won through cheer force of -peechmaking. in those days—] 880 - tilings were very different from 'what thev are now."

It needs another than Mr. O'Connor, too, to draw t.hc )j m , beiwe.en the. wide- poles of intelligence and versatility. As a. struggling youth be cou'.d write novels for "a, -perhaps the. lowest exercise for wits of his education. Not nia.r.v years after thai period in his life he had composed his biography of Beaeonsiield, a. work not the less solid for deserving that, over-work-ed word brilliant. Out of"that pliability of mind the years have drawn Mr. O'Connor's rank as a leader in Parliament and In British journalism. "T.P." founded, earlier in Ids career, the Star, the Sun. and the Weekly Sun. But his notable success, up t-o the present, has been with M.A.P. (Mainly About People), borrowed from a title iii the Boston Pilot. Shortlv afterward he began T.P.'s Weekly, which ho ran parallel with M.A.P. Of late monthsbe loft M.A.P. because control of it was secretly wrested from him. He then started another weekly journal, ingeniously called "P.T.0." the printer's abbreviation placed at the bottom of a page of manuscript, and meaning "Please turn over.'' It also contains Mr. O'Connor's initials inverted. The owners of M.A.P. tried to prevent hits using a title similar to M.A.P., but failed to secure the injunction sought.