Even in Stockholm, whither he went in 1828 with his father, who had been appointed French ambassador to the court of Sweden, he is able, in the midst of the endless and tiresome routine of court etiquette, to devote six or seven hours a day to study. “In the morning,” he writes, “I read Kant, whom I study deeply, not finding him over-difficult in the beginning. At night I plod in detail over Northern history. In the afternoon I devote all the time I can catch to my correspondence, to reading a few German poems and novels, and to certain statistical or political studies.”
Not content with working himself, he seeks to rouse the flagging energies of his friend by pointing out to him' what great things he may be able to do for God and his country. The ruling passion in Montalembert's heart, in these early years as during his whole life, was the love of the church and of freedom.
“Religion, liberty,” he writes—“such are the eternal groundworks of all virtue. To serve God, to be free—such are our duties. In order to fulfil them, we must use every resource, every means, which Providence has placed in our hands.” And again: “I have succeeded in preserving my faith in the midst of one hundred and twenty infidels; I hope that God [pg 284] will not allow me to lose my independence of mind in the midst of half a dozen absolutists.”
And then he pictures to himself the great good which might be accomplished by a writer who, bidding defiance to the prejudices of youth and the public, would raise a bold and eloquent voice in defence of freedom and the church. “What a noble part he would have to play!” he exclaims. “What blessings he would confer upon mankind! What services he would render to religion! Ah! wherefore has not God deigned to give me talent? With what passionate ardor I would have embraced such a glorious future!” Who does not perceive here how the thoughts of the boy were father to the deeds of the man?
No author of our time has written more feelingly or eloquently of Ireland than Montalembert. He was drawn to her by a double attraction—he loved her for her faith, and he sympathized with her because she was wronged. The finest portion of his history of The Monks of the West is that devoted to the Irish saints. Nothing could be more beautiful or more consoling than the noble pages which he has devoted to this subject. As his Histoire de Sainte Elisabeth opened a new path across the vast field of Catholic history, his studies on S. Columba and S. Columbanus called attention to the wealth of religious poetry and Christian example which was suffered to remain buried in the archives of the early Irish Church. In these letters we perceive the first awakening of his love for Ireland, and are able to trace the causes which led him to study the history of that most interesting but unhappy land.
“By reading the admirable speeches of Grattan,” he writes in 1828, “I have discovered, as it were, a new world—the world of Ireland, of her long-sufferings, her times of freedom and glory, her sublime geniuses, and her indefatigable struggles. The universal interest now felt for Ireland, and the remarkable circumstances in which she is placed at present, have tempted me to unfold before the eyes of those Frenchmen who care for Ireland the highly interesting annals and the sundry revolutions of her history. My Irish parentage on my mother's side, my deep knowledge of English, and my acquaintance with several families in that country have confirmed my first ideas on this matter, and I have determined upon writing a history of Ireland from the year 1688, and to do it as soon as possible, in order that it may be published, if that can be done, before the vital question of the emancipation is solved. There is perhaps no country presenting such a plentiful harvest of events equally interesting and unknown.”
Montalembert was in Sweden when he wrote this letter, and he at once sent to England for books, that he might without delay set to work on his proposed history of Ireland. In addition to this, he proposed at the end of the year to visit Ireland itself, that he might consult libraries and make a thorough study of the people and country. This somewhat ambitious project of the youthful Montalembert led to no other immediate results than an article on Ireland in the Revue Française, and a journey to the Emerald Isle in 1830; but to it we are no doubt in part indebted for the eloquent chapters on the Irish Saints in The Monks of the West. His first letter from Ireland to his friend is full of the enthusiasm with which the history of that country had inspired him:
“As for the Irishwomen,” he writes, “they are bewitching. They form the most beautiful female population I ever beheld. But I reserve all my remarks on the country and the people for our conversations in Paris. For the present I must simply beg of you to pray that my passion for Ireland may not become criminal, for it threatens really to lead me astray from the lawful object of my affections; and I am but too often tempted to turn away my thoughts from our France to a country so completely responding to my beliefs, my tastes, and even my most trifling prepossessions.”
He visited the county Wicklow in September, 1830, and wrote to his friend from the “meeting of the waters in the vale of Avoca.” “No, never,” he exclaims, “in France, England, the Netherlands, or even in Germany, have I met with anything comparable to the wild and picturesque defiles of this Wicklow County.... Only figure to yourself the grandest and yet the most lovely landscape; torrents abounding in numberless cascades, struggling to make their way through perpendicular rocks; forests of almost fabulous depths; meadows and swards full worthy of the Emerald Isle; and then old abbeys, modern residences, and lodges built in the purest Gothic style. Place, [pg 285] moreover, in such a landscape, the most pious, most cheerful, most poetical population in the world. Then, again, say to yourself that Grattan passed his childhood here; that he meditated his speeches along these torrents; that one of these residences was bestowed on him by his fatherland, and that therein he lived in his old age; that all these beautiful lands were sanctified and immortalized by the Rebellion of 1798. Well, figure to yourself all this, and you will still have but a faint idea of what I have felt for the last few days.”
As in his eyes Irishwomen were the most beautiful, and Irish scenery the most lovely, he was prepared to admire enthusiastically the men of the country. At Carlow College he dined with the celebrated Bishop Doyle and several of his professors, who, he says, received him with a truly Homeric hospitality.