"—and there is one stirring hour ... when a wakeful influence goes abroad over the sleeping hemisphere.... Do the stars rain down an influence?"—ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.  
 
 
During his leisure moments at Eltham Mr. Parnell took up the study of astronomy with the vigour that always characterized him when he was interested in a subject. He had picked out from my bookshelf a book of stars—one of Sir Robert Ball's, I believe, that I had bought at random one day, and became at once interested. From the teaching of an old friend of my father's I had a fairly good knowledge of astronomy, and, though by no means well up in the latest research and discoveries, I was able to tell him much of the stellar systems that was new to him. Finding how he devoured the little book of Sir Robert Ball's, I got several of the latter's interesting works for him, besides Herschel's.
 
Then Mr. Parnell told me of a magnificent telescope he had at Avondale, and sent for it. When this arrived he sent for a few sacks of Portland cement, with which he made a pedestal in my garden, and himself mounted the telescope upon it. He made an ingenious arrangement whereby the slightest touch would tilt the telescope to the desired angle, and we spent many nights, he and I, watching the stars and following the courses of the planets till they faded in the dawn. Then he thought of how near to us was the Observatory at Greenwich, and got a permit to {109} go over the Observatory. After that, on the days when my aunt had her readers with her, I used to accompany him to the Observatory, where we spent many hours.
 
He could always absorb very quickly any knowledge that appealed to him, and he soon had the pleasure of teaching me much about the latest discoveries, and about a subject intensely interesting to him—the wonderful way in which the telescopes used in the great observatories of the world are made.
 
In time this study of the stars began to worry him too much, and he reluctantly gave up all serious work on the subject. He said it was all too immense and absorbing to think about in a life that was primarily concerned with politics. But the pedestal remained, and still we occasionally mounted the telescope and kept vigil with the stars through the summer night.
 
 
 
On April 7, 1881, Mr. Gladstone had introduced his Land Bill into the House of Commons. It was a better Bill than the Irish Party had reason to expect, but it had grave defects, and the Irish had not been consulted; while the Government's policy of coercion and Forster's attitude towards Parnell and his followers made co-operation between the Liberals and the Irish impossible. Parnell's policy was to hold aloof and press for amendments. After being crippled in the House of Lords the Bill became law. At a Land League Convention held in Dublin on September 14 a resolution was adopted, on the suggestion of Parnell, that the Act should be tested by selected cases. "Nothing," said Parnell, "could be more disastrous to our cause or our organization, and to your hopes of getting your rents reduced, than an indiscriminate rush of the tenantry into the Land Courts."
 
{110}
A few days later Parnell was drawn in triumph through the streets of Dublin. The same day Forster wrote to Gladstone suggesting that Parnell should be arrested under the Coercion Act.
 
He suggested, moreover, that in his next speech at Leeds, on October 7, Mr. Gladstone should impeach Parnell and his policy. Gladstone obeyed. The people of Ireland, he cried, wished to use the Land Act and Parnell would not let them, but "the resources of civilisation were not yet exhausted."
 
Parnell retorted with passion and scorn in his famous Wexford speech delivered on October 9.[1]
 
"Suppose they arrest you, Mr. Parnell," asked an Irish member, who dined with the Leader on the evening of the speech, "have you any instructions to give us? Who will take your place?" "Ah!" he said, deliberately, looking through a glass of champagne which he had just raised to his lips. "Ah, if I am arrested Captain Moonlight will take my place."[2]
 
All through 1881 Parnell was constantly paying flying visits to Ireland, and also to various parts of England, working up the "League," addressing meetings and privately ascertaining for himself how far the temper of the "reactionaries" could be trusted to do the work he wished without becoming too greatly involved in the tactics of the "Invincibles" proper. He came home to me now always between the times of his journeyings up and down {111} the country, and if it was not certain that I should be alone he would write me a formal though friendly note or letter that anyone could have been shown, in which was given some word or sign that let me know a place or time of meeting him, either in London or nearer my home. On some of these occasions my duties to my aunt would keep me, so that I might be an hour or more late in arriving at the place where he awaited me; but never once in all those years did he once fail me or leave the place of appointment before I came, even though it might be at the loss of the mail train to Ireland, and leaving some thousands of people waiting in vain for the speech he was too far away to make. Sometimes I would become conscience-stricken on such an occasion, but he would only comment that one speech more or less was a little matter, and what was lost by a speech not made was amply compensated for by the deepened impression of his mystery and power gained by the people. "For it is the strange thing I found out early in political life," he would say, "they think I'm much more wonderful when I do nothing than when I'm working hard."
 
MORRISON'S HOTEL, DUBLIN,
    September 10, 1881.
MY DEAR MRS. O'SHEA,—Will you kindly address and post enclosed.
 
I am quite recovered from my attack, and the doctor says that I shall be able to travel in a few days.—Yours very truly, CHAS. S. PARNELL.
 
 
 
The enclosure was the following letter:—
 
MORRISON'S HOTEL, DUBLIN,
    September 10, 1881.
MY OWN WIFIE,—I know that you must have been much {112} worried yesterday by my failure to send you a few words, but my Beauty will forgive her own husband.
 
Your wire has been put into my hand as I write, and shall have an instant answer.
 
It gives me so much pleasure to know that your trouble has not returned since I left, and that my wires give you pleasure. Your King thinks very very often of his dearest Queen, and wishes her not to be sad, but to try and be happy for his sake. Everything is going on very well here, and your King is much satisfied.
 
 
 
MORRISON'S HOTEL, DUBLIN,
    September 25, 1881.
MY OWN LOVELIEST,—I send you these few words to assure Wifie that her husband always thinks of her and hopes that she is well and happy. YOUR OWN KING.
 
 
 
October 4, 1881.
MY OWN WIFIE,—I have satisfied myself, by two separate tests to-day, that there is a good deal of silver in the dark stone of which there is so much in the old mine. In fact nearly the whole lode consists of this (the miners are working in it in the North Level). I cannot say how many ounces there will be to the ton until I get it assayed, but if there should be six or eight ounces to the ton it ought to pay to work.
 
YOUR OWN KING.
 
 
 
MORRISON'S HOTEL, DUBLIN,
    October 7, 1881.
MY OWN WIFE,—I called to-day to see him[3] on my return from Dungarvan, but he was out, and I waited for him three hours. Calling again at eleven to-night, he was again out, but returned just as I was writing to make an appointment for the morning. He says that he leaves to-morrow (Friday) evening, and stops to shoot on Saturday in Wales, and goes on Tuesday to Paris to see the Papal Nuncio, who he says has requested him to come. This, then, is the last letter I can send you for the present through Eltham, so I hope to have the other address from you to-morrow morning.
 
My dearest Katie must have been very lonely ever since. {113} Did she get my three letters? Her husband has been so busy he has not even had time to sleep, but he has never been too busy to think of her.
 
I can go over to London early next week if I may see you. Should I remain in London or go down to you?
 
With numerous kisses to my beautiful Queenie.
 
C. S. P.
 
 
 
October 8, 1881.
 
MY DEAREST LITTLE WIFIE,—Your husband has been very good since he left you, and is longing to see you again. He has kept his eyes, thought, and love all for you, and my sweetest love may be assured that he always will.
 
To-morrow I go to Avondale, thence to Wexford on Sunday, whence I return Monday morning and hope to be with my Queenie on Tuesday or Wednesday at latest.
 
Everything in Dublin has been settled up pretty satisfactorily, and I trust only to have to make an occasional appearance in Ireland duri............