bits,
feelings, passions and hearts should be entirely changed. In order to do
this, it was necessary he should stoop to the level of their conceptions
and capacities. Thus for many weary months, with his energies, as it
were, chained down to a cold stone, toiled and strove Thomas Davis. His
influence first began to be felt as chairman of a sub-committee on the
registers. This position afforded him an opportunity of entering into
correspondence with the leading politicians of the party, and whenever
he saw in any man's replies evidence of depth, capacity or earnestness,
he at once entered into friendly and unreserved communication, exhorting
him in language full of passionate entreaty. In these, his early
efforts, John Dillon shared his labours, his ambition and his heart.

[Illustration: Truly yours, Thomas Davis.]

About this time Mr. Stanton, proprietor of the _Morning Register_,
committed to the two young graduates the writing of his journal. His
preference was not so much owing to their character as politicians as it
was to their pre-eminence in literary attainments. The press of Dublin
had then sunk to the lowest level. Newspaper literature had even fallen,
too. It was divided into three sections, each of which was the whining
slave of one or other of the great predominating factions of the
country. The _Register_ was generally regarded as ranking among the
mercenaries of the Castle. But no sooner did it fall into the hands of
the college friends than all Dublin was startled by the originality,
vigour and brilliancy of its articles. When the Whigs were about
retiring they determined on a gross and scandalous abuse of power for
the purpose of rewarding an unscrupulous partisan, even though it
involved an affront to one of their oldest and ablest friends, the then
Irish Chancellor. That man was Lord Plunket, who had served the Whigs so
faithfully, honourably and fearlessly. He was commanded to retire in
order to make room for Sir John Campbell, who was thereby to be
qualified for the English peerage.

The stipendiaried journals of the Castle exhausted their adulation, and
had received their last reward for upholding the appointment. The Tory
press, hungry for the spoil which it maddened the others to lose, paid
back the compliments by intense vituperation. The slang of party warfare
was bandied in the usual fashion, without thought or a care beyond the
interest of party. The _Register_, to everybody's astonishment