|McMahon Glynn, Patrick to Glynn, James P., 1884
|Patrick McMahon Glynn: Letters to his family (1874-1927) [Gerald Glynn O'Collins]
|McMahon Glynn, Patrick
|Kapunda, South Australia, Australia
|Gort, Co. Galway, Ireland
|Glynn, James P.
|work, prospects, local economy, literature
|Kapunda South Aust.
February 28 '84
My dear James
It is time that I answered your letter which informed me that
the degree of L.L.B. had been conferred upon me. You must have
taken a considerable amount of trouble over the whole matter for
which I must thank you. When I will take out the L.L.D. is a
question not to be answered at present. Though my income is over
£5 a week, old and present scores have left small margin for saving;
but when I have £22 to spare and time to write a thesis I will
probably have a fling for it. It pleased me very much to see you have
now got some occupation for your spare moments. Spavin Hall should
take well with the readers of The Sporting News; but I can well
understand the preference for the gossip exhibited by your friends, as
short spicy paragraphs are generally the food most sought after by
racing cards. You mentioned that you would seek the first opportunity
of leaving the bank. The move might be a good one if a certain
opening offered elsewhere, but it would be unwise to trust to fortune.
The income you would make out of a Sporting Paper would be very
precarious, and stories are a drug in ordinary Magazines, While in
the bank you can, however, feel your way.
Webster, an English Journalist, who is on a tour round the
World, stayed 9 months in Adelaide and contributed some excellent
articles on the land question. He was editor of the Examiner, and has
at heart the preaching of the "land gospel". I became on friendly
terms with him, and about 3 weeks ago, on the eve of his departure,
he told me that the proprietors of the South Australian Register
would give me 10 guineas a week if I engaged to write for them, and
that they intend to make such a proposal. I mentioned that my
profession was the only obstacle—which probably he communicated
to the Register people, as they have not yet written. However, there is
£500 or £600 a year open to me for the asking of it—so that
perhaps some day I may pitch the law to the devil for a while. You
can scarcely believe how little money is in circulation here. Three
bad seasons in succession—this last a good one; but wheat has gone down very much in price, and it is the staple product of this colony.
Everyone lives on credit. Here the Banks never think of giving anything
but notes—a sovereign is a curiosity. Law Costs remain out
indefinitely. By the way, the other day I defended a prisoner for the
first time here in the Central Criminal Court and got him acquitted
on a charge of Rape.
You mentioned that your friend Capt. Joy had read the articles
in the Kapunda Herald, and was puzzled about my religious opinions.
I am gradually losing any that I ever had. However, there is a
certain amount of orthodoxy in the athmosphere around me, which,
in the interests of the Proprietor of the paper, must not be altogether
disregarded. There was a fellow in South Australia, named Gordon,
who wrote some excellent poetry & who seems to be not far wrong in
his forecast of things as contained in the following:
A little season of love and laughter,
Of light and life, and pleasure and pain,
And a horror of outer darkness after,
And dust returneth to dust again etc.
I will send you a copy of his Bush Ballads and Galloping Rhymes.
Some of them are too plainly imitations of Swinburne, but nevertheless
full of genuine poetic fire and insight. The galloping Rhymes
are excellent and sure to be appreciated at the Curragh. Gordon is
dead now—as a dare devil rider, who sought dangerous jumps for the
very romance and love of the risk, even Ireland could not supply the
equal. The first few lines of the dedication are excellent as a picture
of Australia. "Britomarte" is a piece of perfect finish and originality.
My time is now up, so with remembrance to all friends and
hoping to hear soon from you—I remain
Your affectionate brother
P. McM. Glynn
PS. I send you a copy of Gordon's Bush Ballads, and enclose Bank
order—too long delayed—for £11-15