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above verses, what he considers the true spirit of Fenianism. He
is of opinion that Fenianism has not been spiritually understood, even by the great majority of its members. Luby and Kickham, Lord Edward and Emmet and some others understood it; but, alas, the great mass who have shouted, and the sublime (?) few who have oratorized, were only members of the outer ring. Shall we scare the spirit of Liberty back to the skies again? Time will answer. There is a fine old air, defiant and sad, called “Captain Magan,” to which this song may be sung. It can be found in the introductory airs to Moore’s Melodies. If the Circles would sing those old Irish airs.fcomposed on the hills when Liberty, an outlaw, had minstrels to chant her glories, they would do immense good. There is some thing of our fathers’ spirit in the old Irish music, and we are sadly m want of that article. GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. The Editors of The Irish Republic will allow correspondents to express their views in tho strongest and boldest language consistent with propriety; they, therefore, state that they do not hold them selves responsible for the opinions or expressions under this heading. An Irishman of the South on the Enemies of Irish Liberty. Memphis, Tenn., September 25, 1867. To the Editors of The Irish Republic. Gentlemen : Having been a constant reader of your ad mirable journal since its first appearance upon the counters of the news dealers of this city, and observing that no cor respondent has thus far greeted you from Memphis, I make bold to obtrude myself—in the absence of a more able con tributor—on your indulgence, and that of your readers, and tender you my most hearty congratulations upon the bold independence which you have displayed in your own per sons, and advocated in that of others, since your advent in the world of letters. It must be extremely galling to the Catholic Irishman to to observe the course pursued by too many of the hierarchy of the Church in which, at one time, it was his boast to have been baptized and educated ; and the more particularly when it is considered that he had been led to believe from his in fancy, that that Church was the firm advocate of the most boundless freedom for the oppressed of all lands, without distinction of caste or complexion. The most momentous events of the past two years, however, have bitterly dispelled the delusion, and the free, thinking Catholic of to-day must acknowledge with pain, that the doctrines of the Church of his fathers, as expounded by the Cullens, Moriartys, Duggans and Gleasons, are subversive of the true principles of liberty and a damning reproach to our race and name. After railing against Protestantism and Mohammedanism for centuries, we have been awakened by the painful consciousness that out of our hard earnings we have been erecting bastiles for our con sciences ; and under the mistaken guise of doing reverence to the representatives of Faith, Hope and Charity, we have been kissing the bejeweled hands of Tyranny and Oppression, and bending the knee to moral Slavery ! For this melancholy state of affairs we are ourselves to blame. We have done what no other freedom-loving people ever did—yielded up our sculs and bodies to the control of men, some of whom have proved themselves over-exacting and tyrannical. Alas! we see the result—wanton insult and unmerited reproach— as exemplified in the conduct of the anointed and reverend tyrant Gleason over the dead body of the heroic Lynch! To all those who take the trouble of inquiring into the cause of this strange anomaly it will be apparent, that men who undergo the peculiar ritualistic course of training which is practiced in certain colleges are but frail apostles of Liberty. Out of those institutions not one in ten hundred comes forth a republican. If the newly-fledged dictator is an advocate of republicanism, he must have entered college with his prin ciples indelibly fixed; for certain it is, no such docrine prevails within their walls. The “ divine right of kings” is a fixed dogma, openly taught in the greater number of these places, and every man who comes to this country from such an in stitution as Maynooth is more or less touched with the be lief in royalty divine ! In proof of this, it will not be out of place to call the attention of your Irish readers—Fenians in par ticular—to what you have already observed with disgust, and commented upon in the right spirit. I allude to the costly ceremonials gotten up in many places throughout this coun try, (the South especially,) over the death of Maximilian, the royal murderer. Requiem Masses, gilded catafalques and public processions did honor to the memory of the arch-butcher of ten thousand patriots!! Bishops, priests and deacons, in costly vestments, chanted dolorous anthems in his honor; but where were the singing voices, the swinging censers of incense, the gilded catafalques, the cloths of gold and mourning pageants, to do honor to the glorious Catholic Celt—the heroic Lynch ? They were not to be wasted on a Celt. Lynch had no brother a cardinal. A dignified ecclesiastic xcas permitted to heap contumely over the body of the slaugh tered Celt, while the glittering miter, silken vestment and singing voice united to glorify the Saxon murderer ! These assertions may be considered heterodoxical for an Irish Ca tholic, but they are true. It is high time for Irishmen of the Catholic faith td arouse themselves to the reality of the slavish tyranny under which they groan, and shake off for ever the galling fetters forged by bribed dictators to bind them from the pursuit of liberty for their fatherland! Let them beware! The Maynooth Oath of itself it but too convincing testimony that we have been devising plans, and in too many instances whispering their purport into the ears of the hired emissaries of the enemy. We want reverend gentlemen of the Vaughan, Kenyon and Lavelle stamp; and until we dis countenance the support of any other caste, we need never expect to accomplish our most cherished aims. That we are a priest-ridden people we can no longer deny ; and the sooner we obviate the evil, and raise ourselves in the estimation of our American protectors, the sooner we will realize our na tional expectations. As we exist at present, we are but the laughing-stock of civilization, and we are deserving no loftier consideration, even from our friends. “ The good work,” as the sectarians would say, is in rather an unpromising condition in this city. There are many resident Irishmen here, of vast wealth and great influence, but their talents and instincts lead them wholly the way of the almighty dollar, in the pursuit of which they seem to have forgotten the road to the freedom of their native land. An attempt was made to get up a picnic in the interest of Fenianism some weeks ago; but the announcement seemed to fall upon the Irish element here like a hailstone upon an iceberg, and it proved an utter failure. In a future letter I may make allusion to the names of some of those who should do something towards forwarding the work. I would have done so at this time, but refrained for reasons of policy. I am, gentlemen, yours fraternally, Tib, Owen. Earnest Work Among the Irishmen of Kentucky, j Louisville, Ky., September 2G, 18G7. To the Editors of The Irish Republic. Gentlemen : The Irish nationalists of Louisville are at last thoroughly aroused to the sense of their duties. We have organized three splendid Circles in this city since the Cleveland Congress, and will have four more in operation— in and around the city—in the course of a few days. Every man will don the harness. The Irishmen of Louisville and Kentucky will move upon the enemy with an unbroken front. God and Ireland is the motto of the hour. In connection with the present glorious work of our countrymen, one can not well help thinking of the brilliant contrast between the present persistent and determined efforts of our people, and our former abortive attempts. All former organizations either died with the movement that gave them birth, or dragged out a miserable existence and fell into the grave with their originators. Fenianism alone—with all its bitter defeats, its knavish and imbecile leaders, and the calumnies of tyrants—exists to-day purified, ennobling and elevating the minds of the people. Fenianism embodies and repre sents the political faith of the Irish people, and has been really doing the work of a national education. To-day, the Irish people recognize themselves as the motive power. They make and unmake leaders with the emanation of an intelli gent will. We have shorn our faith of everything that was cumbersome, and truth marches in concert with conscience and civilization to the establishment of the Irish nation. I had almost forgotten to say that one of our newly organized Circles is composed wholly of young unmarried men, of tem perate habits, and excellent social standing, many of whom battled in the ranks on that June morning at Kidgeway. We number forty members at present, and feel confident of in creasing to two hundred. It is also proposed to establish, in conjunction with the Circle, a reading room to be supplied with all the Irish national papers of the day, as also the most refined literature of Ireland and America. We say to our young fellow-countrymen throughout the nation, look well to your laurels. The officers elect of the Kidgeway Circle are, M. Boland, Center; Treasurer, J. Kelly ; Secretary, J. High land; Committee of Safety, D. McCarthy, Chairman, M. Shelly, P. Flynn, II. McCool, John Connors. Our respected fellow-countryman and townsman, Patrick Bannan, Esq., is lending his influence and assistance to the good work. He is organizing a Circle to comprise the solid men of our city. Our District Center, Mr. Thos. McDermott, is indefatigable in the discharge of his duties. The Organization is gaining many respectable and intelligent men, who have not been heretofore identified with the movement. We see by the reliable telegraphic correspondence, that “ye gentle savage” is going to issue an “address.” Some untamed wags in this wild Western city ask “to what ?” But we suppose that is in the line of the gentleman’s trade, and we do not propose by any means to interfere with it. More next time. Yours ever, M. B. -- A Fenian Base Ball Club in every City. Minneapolis, Sept. 16, 1867. Dear Republic: In a late issue of your journal 1 see, with great pleasure, an article on the “ Requisites of a Sol dier,” over the signature of “ J. E. G.,” which, in most re spects, strikes me as being very pertinent and timely. I am pleased to see this subject ventilated, as it must appear, to every Fenian who thinks on the prospects of the future, that it is a matter of necessity that our young men should prepare themselves in such a manner for the coming struggle, that, like the Swedes under Charles XII., they shall be able to fight twenty thousand to eighty. This can only be done by sound preparatory exercises, mental, moral and physical. Our men must be intelligent soldiers. They must be virtuous soldiers. They must be active soldiers. All history proves that such men must conquer. In fact, this is, in a measure, the reason why the Normans conquered England. 1 have for some time been thinking why it is that our young men, who were un questionably the best ball players in Europe, do not organize themselves into clubs for ball practice, base ball, foot ball, and such other manly exercises, also hand ball, hurly, etc. Let there be “a Fenian base ball club” in every town. Come, who Avill set the “ball” rolling? Hoping to see something done in this line and soon, I am, etc., P. F. P. S. I think it can be proven that the exercise of ball playing is an Irish institution; and one Avell calculated to make vigorous young men. THE OMNIBUS. THORER—A NORSE SAGA. The paths upon the high Dunfeld are muffled with the snow, The branches in the black pine-woods are bending white and low, And thick the flakes are falling, are falling thick and white— Now, Odin, guide the traveler upon the hills to-night! Beneath the rocks of Dunfeld, and fast beside the sea, Well fenced from storms, stands Thorer’s hall—a goodly home hath he; In summer times he sails the sea, and spoils the southern lands, ' • Now warm he sits, and deep he drinks, among his viking bands. There feast no strangers at his board, his gates ho beggars feed, Of Odin’s laws and strangers’ rights he taketh little heed; Six mastiffs chained beside his gate keep watch by night and day, They scare away the beggar man, the stranger scare away. ’Twas when the flakes were falling, and night was darkening round, Along the paths of Dunfeld an ancient harper wound; Upon his beard and mantle, upon his hoary hair, As on the pines, when winds are low, the heavy snow wreaths were. lie turned not from the driving storm, nor wandered in the snow Where thick the drifts were choking the hidden shelves below ; The bitter night, the biting wind, they chilled him not at all, So passed he down the mountain ways and strode to Thorer’s hall. The dogs have stayed their baying or ever he drew near, And low they whined, and back they slunk, and hid them selves in fear; And by he passed, and on the door as loud his knocking rung As woodman’s axe in summer time may ring the pines among. The churlish porter slow ly has risen from his place, And when the door he opened, laughed in the stranger’s face— “ Oh! long the ways by which I come, and ill they be to tread, And wild the night upon the hill,” the ancient harper said. “Go back,” quote he, “to Dunfeld, enough of snows there be For roof-tree and for coverlet to such a one as thee!” The harper harped upon his harp, no longer would he plead, And as he harped the porter fell, like one that’s drunk w ith mead. The harper took him by the legs, as one might take a hare, He flung him out among the dogs, says, “take thy lodging there !” There was snarling then and fighting around him where he fell— I wis it was not every night those mastiffs fared so well. The harper he has entered and closed the doors again: He heard the shouts and laughter of Tliorer and his men; Yet passed he by, and silently has to the chamber gone, Where the daughter of the sea-king was sitting all alone. lie told her of the drifting snows and of the wreary way, And the gentle maiden sighed as she bade the harper stay. Her heart is very heavy—to-day has Tliorer said That with the cruel Aliric that gentle maid must wed. The tempest beats the pine planks (but ye may hear the din), And to the chamber stealthily the chilly blasts creep in. The maiden sighs and shudders—for very sad is she ; The harper takes his harp, she shall hear his minstrelsy. The harper harped, and as he harped the storm was heard no more, But murmurs as of summer winds the southern waters o’er; The blasts that through the chamber crept were soft like sum mer air, And scent, as of the summer flowers, was with them every where. Tiie harper harped, and as lie harped the walls around her grew Like the trees with all their leaves where they stand against the blue; Beneath her all was green, and no other sound she heard, But the harping of the harp, like the singing of a bird. The harper ceased troni harping—he saw the maiden sleiit, And sadly looked upon her, as from the place he stept. “Now pleasant be thy sleeping!” ’twas thus the harper said; * Aow pleasant be thy sleep as long!” for he saw that she was dead. 1 lie tempest beats the pine planks (but ye may hear the din), But louder is the laughing of Thorer’s men within ; And chill the blast of winter that steals into the hall, Lut stronger iar the pine logs are that blaze before them all. I he harper stept .before them, and to the board lie drew, t I-or meat and drink and fire he craved (as is the stranger s due). vikings looked upon him, they laughed into his face, But little knowest thou, old man, the customs of this place.