Sir,—Knowing you from your published writings to be intimately acquainted with the secret political history of Ireland at the close of the last century, I venture to trespass on your courtesy, with a query relative to a celebrated character of those times, whose name, long gratefully and affectionately remembered by his countrymen, must in future, if the statements of a recent historian are deserving of any credit, be associated only with the names of the wretches whom, in the pages of 'The Sham Squire' and 'Ireland before the Union,' you have held up to the scorn of posterity!

I allude to the famous 'Father O'Leary,' who, according to Mr. Froude, was a spy of Pitt's, systematically employed in betraying the secrets which his sacred calling and influence as a trusted patriot enabled him to become possessed of; and, with unparalleled audacity and baseness, publicly receiving the encomiums of his most distinguished contemporaries, such men as Grattan and Curran, for virtues which he only assumed, and for talents which he so basely prostituted! Is it possible that this man could have played such an odious part? Do you consider, sir, that the evidence produced by Mr. Froude in support of so terrible an accusation is sufficiently conclusive; or, has that sensational writer in this, as perhaps in other instances, accommodated his facts to his theories?[523] With tantalising reticence Mr. Froude gives only a few meagre lines from the correspondence in which he claims to have found the proofs of O'Leary's guilt. The subject has been much discussed in Australia, as no doubt it has in every country in which Irishmen are to be found. You have yourself, in one of your ...[524] volumes, referred to a mysterious connection between O'Leary and William Pitt. Was it an honourable, or an infamous one?

May I ask you to favour me with your opinion upon it, judged by the light of Mr. Froude's revelations? By kindly complying with my request, you will oblige many anxious inquirers at the 'Antipodes.'

I am, Sir, etc.,
Morgan McMahon.

W. J. Fitzpatrick, Esq.

I may at once say that, although evidence exists of O'Leary's frailty, it is not sufficient to warrant, in all details, the very sensational picture drawn by Mr. McMahon.

People always knew that O'Leary became entitled to a pension, though how he acquired it was not so clear. Perhaps it is only fair to give him the benefit of the version which his intimate friend, Francis Plowden, placed on record eighty years ago.[525] His information was, doubtless, derived from O'Leary himself; but O'Leary seems to have told him no more than it was convenient to reveal:—

O'Leary's writings on toleration had removed from the minds of many Catholics the difficulties which up to that time prevented them from swearing allegiance to the House of Hanover, and abjuring the House of Stuart. That Rev. Divine so happily blended a vein of liberality and original humour with orthodox instruction, that his writings became popular even with Protestants, and induced so much toleration and cordiality between them and the Catholics, that created a serious alarm in those who studied to perpetuate their division and consequent weakness. With much art they endeavoured to stop the progress of this terrifying liberality and harmony among Irishmen of different religious professions. The Rev. Arthur O'Leary was thanked by the British minister for the services he had rendered to the State, by frightening away the bugbear of Jacobitism, and securing the allegiance of the whole Catholic body to the House of Hanover. A pension of 200l. was granted to him for his life in the name of a trustee, but upon the secret condition that he should for the future withhold his pen, and reside no more in Ireland,—in such dread was holden an evangeliser of tolerance and brotherhood in that country. Two or three payments of this hush-money were made. Afterwards an arbitrary refusal for many years threw the Rev. Pensioner upon the voluntary support of his friends for subsistence. After a lapse of many years, by importunity and solicitation, and repeated proofs of his having complied with the secret conditions, he received a large arrear; and, in order to make himself independent for the rest of his days, he purchased with it an annuity for his life from a public office, and died before the first quarter became due.

It was, in fact, entirely by Plowden's intervention that the arrear was paid. So we learn on the authority of the Rev. Thomas England, who in 1822 brought out a life of O'Leary. Plowden was a friend of Pitt's, and undertook to write a History of Ireland under the auspices of that statesman. He had previously published in defence of the British Constitution, and received in acknowledgment the D.C.L. of Oxford. When writing eighty years ago of so popular and respected a priest as O'Leary, Plowden—himself a Catholic—made his revelation cautiously. It would now seem that some greater service was rendered than the public service to which Plowden refers. It will be shown on high contemporary authority that the object of the Castle in 1784 was to divide the two great parties. This policy later on was boldly avowed as Divide et impera.[526] The service, therefore, for which O'Leary accepted secret pay cannot have been for promoting cordial co-operation between Catholics and Protestants.

Mr. Lecky, in the sixth volume of his 'History of England,' has brought to light a letter, going far to establish the fact that in 1784 O'Leary 'consented, for money, to discharge an ignominious office for a Government which despised and distrusted him.'[527]