England, and no doubt would get it. Plunkett swore that it was impossible. Dillon assured him he had seen my letter to the Secretary of the Treasury. "Well (exclaimed Plunkett) I will never believe in any man again; I'm done with politics for the rest of my life." The jest had gone far enough, and Dillon explained the puzzle.
In these realms what event is too sombre or disheartening to be celebrated by a public dinner? My intended exile suggested two, one in Dublin projected by the Tenant Leaguers and the survivors of the Young Ireland party, the other in London by men of letters, who had only a limited interest in Irish affairs, but were good enough to honour me with some personal sympathy. When a committee, which had John Stuart Mill for chairman and James Hannay for secretary, communicated their wishes to me, I felt that such a grace was a compensation for many disappointments. My friends, who were professors in the new University, were active in organising the Dublin dinner. A courtly ecclesiastic whispered to James M'Carthy, the Professor of the Fine Arts, when he read his name on the committee, "Don't be a fool; the Archbishop is essential to your success, you cannot build churches without bishops, and the Archbishop does not love the exiled agitator." "No," replied M'Carthy, "I believe he does not, but I do." M'Carthy had never taken any public part in politics, but while he was studding Ireland with noble gothic churches on which the genius of native art was stamped, his heart was still the heart of a boy for his early hopes and his early associates.
Some practical men insisted that before seeing me for the last time there ought to be some more permanent testimony of good will. Colonel French, who will be remembered as one of the habitués of the Reform Club for a whole generation, organised a Gavan Duffy Testimonial Fund in London, but as I always refused testimonials I brought that project to a prompt termination. Arthur Geheoghan, then a young Protestant Nationalist in the Excise Department, afterwards one of the four officials called "The Kings of Somerset House," wrote to offer me all the savings he had accumulated to be repaid without interest, and at my absolute convenience; and Mrs. Anderson, the wife of a general officer whose sym-
