-To O’Mahony from J. Kelly (Stephens)-April 29, 1862

29 Apr. [1862], Dublin. 'Brother, Our friend and brother [Michael Doheny] deserved more honor than we could possibly confer on him at present, and you have only performed a simple duty. In the performance of that duty however I should not have been in the least degree influenced by what the base might say about our friend's "improvidence." To the wretches who, before "his body was as yet cold" or at any future time, should thus endeavour to slime his memory it could be said : "You confound devotion with improvidence. Through devotion to Ireland the great man you presume to censure had remained poor—so poor as to be indebted to friendship for a grave! You are too rich to appreciate, still more to practice [sic], a virtue the sublime observance of which shall endear the dead to the manhood of our race for ever. But even baseness is not always incompatible with certain amenities—certain graces: it may have the polish of the world and wordly prudence. Learn at least the decency of silence, if for no other reason than to hide your baseness from your country." Something to this effect (but in words somewhat worthy of him who is no more) might be told the brood you hint at.

'Would that the effect to make some provision for his family had fallen to the duty of an Irishman. Nothing could have brought me to allow the initiative to that miserable hybrid, Richard O'Gorman; nor would I in any way or for anything cooperate with him. I deeply regret your having consented to do so. You will say that he can do more than you with a certain class. I question this; especially if the sorrow of that class for the Col. and their sympathy for his family be what you state. May I not even infer from such a statement that you have lost a golden opportunity for the cause? This is a view of the matter which nobody could have better understood and appreciated, or more approved and more readily acted on, than the dead himself. I have no doubt it would please his spirit to do such service—nay, I am sure it would, judging from myself; for love and devotion like his must live beyond the grave. It cuts against the grain even to agony to find you telling of the feeling the fellow, O'Gorman, has shown on this occasion and for which you are "inclined to forgive him half his backslidings." To my eyes it is a national crime to forgive such a wretch, and especially so to cooperate with him in any public way. By so doing you dull the national sense of the fellow's—what shall I call 'em——"backslidings" or crimes? This kind of toleration shocks and confounds the true, and necessarily induces national demoralisation. To me this appears unwise and criminal. I cannot help deeming it a duty to hold forth the highest possible standard of patriotism to our countrymen; and when any patriot—particularly a "leader"—falls short of this standard, I must needs believe it my duty to hold aloof from him at least, if not brand and crush him. Nor is such action at all incompatible with sound toleration—with Christian charity; or if it be, then is every repression—every penal code of every known society—intolerant and unChristian. I entreat you—as you love Ireland and would wisely labor for the common weal—hold aloof from all this carrion, the merest touch of which pollutes the patriot. I pray you also read these words in the spirit in which they are written, believing that solicitude for the cause and the well-being of all earnest toilers in it, including yourself, could alone induce me to write a line having the air of re-proval, much less dictation.

'You have doubtless seen from the Nation of last Saturday that The O'Goula [A. M. Sullivan] continues to burn the brand more and more deeply into his brow. The rascally wanton attack on you, by which he begins the operation, will damn him not only in the eyes of all your friends—in their eyes the wretch needed no damnation —but in those of every honorable enemy, as well as of that large class of honest-minded and honest-hearted men in whom the spirit of nationality is but latent as yet, owing to our not having been able to reach them. In this last class the indignation is little less fierce than amongst ourselves. Even the Clique are anxious and alarmed, if not indignant; prudence alone explains this, as a portion of The O'Goula's infamy must necessarily attach to every Felon-setter, high or low. For my own part and with my knowledge of the feeling in operation—apart too from my faith in the wisdom, might, and grandeur of persistent silence—I consider an answer of any kind uncalled-for and even injudicious. This is as much as to say that I mean to write none myself. I speak with an eye to what has already appeared; but should time show the necessity of a different course I shall be ready to meet that necessity. At first, as on every more or less similar occasion, some of my friends here were of opinion that something should be done; but all are now convinced that I have counselled and acted for the best. Our friend Rossa wrote a very telling letter in answer to the first part of The O'Goula's infamous drivel; and, in a note to us here, proposed to write a general defence of our principles, etc. While fully appreciating our friend Rossa's motives and the ability displayed in his published letter, I have advised him not to write any defence, particularly a general one. As already said, I am convinced the People will do full justice to The O'Goula and even to the whole Clique and that the Firm of the former is inevitably doomed.

'Besides, we cannot go on counting on the forbearance of the government—a serious consideration to the men in the gap. Of course you will be guided by your own judgement yonder. I am however of opinion that even there we require no defence; that with the aid of what mere outsiders at this side are sure to write, to say nothing of the silent efforts of the whole body under your control in the States, we can easily live down such attacks. Sure I am we can live them down here without our outwritten or outspoken word. Why should it be difficult at your side ? While giving you my opinion in this way, however, of course I readily admit that you are the best judge of what you should do. Nor do I mean to hold that, if cautiously worded, a defence written and published by you over there would be at all so questionable as if written and published by me here. But should you write anything of the kind you cannot possibly be over-cautious. You made a few slips in your speech in Philadelphia, which, as you may have perceived from the papers, our enemies have tried to make the most of. Fortunately, though absolutely unscrupulous they are too brainless to make much of any advantage given them. Still I repeat you cannot possibly be overcautious; for, as already said, we cannot go on counting on the forbearance of the government. Apropos, a report has been for some days in circulation that the authorities were about making a swoop; rewards were about being offered to informers, etc.;

just as in '58. My own neighbourhood was thrown into a state of commotion last night; the news-venders [sic] were roaring under my very windows and at the top of their lungs—"Full discovery of the secret society—arrest cf the leading members," etc. The cry turned out to be a hoax; nor have I on inquiry found any foundation for the reported swoop. But all this shows you how the wind blows.

'Now, what is my position under the circumstances? I have been in my present lodgings over four months. This is known to scores of men who have visited me here and may be known to many more. Yet I cannot leave. At this present moment I have not a shilling in the world. This has been for the most part my actual position since the [MacManus] funeral and longer; for I need not say that the exigencies of the cause rapidly rid me of any small sums I receive from you or can raise myself. It is my duty to mention these facts. I do so even in self-defence lest, in case of arrest, my friends should say I had acted imprudently. If arrested at all I shall owe my arrest to want of money, having which I could baffle and laugh at the authorities. My friends may regret their shortcomings when too late. Yours fraternally.'