Abstract This article argues that the career and writings of the Ulster unionist propagandist and man of letters Hugh Shearman (1915–99) were influenced by his commitment to theosophy, which he saw as a logical extension of Protestant belief in private judgement. His work as a publicist echoed theosophist preoccupation with illusion and the perceptions accessible to initiates. Many of his writings displayed theosophist in-jokes, esoteric references and mental reservations. His apologias reflected theosophist belief in the breaking down of personality compartmentalisation in order to merge with the world-soul. Shearman saw the Irish republic as the ‘Pakistan of the West’, represented by him as embodying self-destructive insularity shaped by Catholic authoritarianism. In response to the 1940s anti-partition campaign, Shearman developed an apologia for the Stormont government as an essentially progressive technocracy, which he saw as culminating in the regime of Terence O'Neill. This article uses previously unexplored writings to track Shearman's life and career into the 1990s, when he is shown to have combined a view of the Irish question formed in the 1940s with a semi-conspiratorial unionist narrative of British betrayal.

The literature of the fin de siècle coexisted with that of older writers, who show how earlier literary tropes and cultural debates continued to influence the later period. The novels of Charlotte Riddell indicate that long-standing debates about the possibility of regenerating the Irish land system survived into the era of the Land War and the New Woman. Her references to a wide range of nineteenth-century Irish writers and her reimagining of contemporary events such as the murder of Lord Leitrim (1878) and the land agitation in Donegal reflect not only her own inability to turn her literary success into financial security but also a perceptible ambivalence on her part. This chapter focuses in particular on Riddell’s novels Berna Boyle (1884), The Earl’s Promise (1873) and The Nun’s Curse (1888) by showing how her late Victorian self-questioning reflects themes of earlier eras’ hopes for political economy or aristocratic regeneration.

Charles Dawson and the Public Sphere in Late Victorian and Edwardian Dublin* Patrick Maume (bio) In the period between the implementation of the Municipal Corporations (Ireland) Act (1840) and the early twentieth century, a Catholic business class challenged the established Protestant elites for control of Dublin municipal politics and administration. Described by David Dickson as a “shopocracy,” this class consisted of a small number of great business magnates, a developing body of Catholic professionals (often the sons and daughters of these same individuals), and a generational cohort trained in a growing Catholic secondary-school system dominated by the burgeoning religious orders. This group has not received a good press. Conservative and unionist writers have tended to portray it as a self-seeking and incompetent class of populist upstarts, while nationalist critics (later joined by socialists) saw it as a collection of snobs and collaborators whose corruption by self-interest was reflected in the frightful living conditions of Dublin’s heavily crowded slums.1 These criticisms contain a great deal of truth, but they are not the whole story. Nineteenth-century Dublin Protestant elites also underwent a process of professionalization in response to the demise of the sectarian patronage structures, a change that has been documented by historian Jacqueline Hill. Protestants accomplished this by laying claim to leadership on the basis of superior professional [End Page 113] competence to handle the administrative, social, and economic needs of the growing city.2 Sections of the Catholic “shopocracy” similarly sought to assert their position as a ruling class in waiting through participation in a wide range of activities to improve the life of the city. These included direct philanthropy, the creation and support of civic institutions, and alliances built with skilled workers (whose craft unions dominated the late Victorian trade-union movement) on the understanding that employers and laborers shared a common interest in economic expansion through the promotion of Irish industry. However much tension might arise between ruling class and skilled workers in practice, the central concept here was that mutual benefit could be gained by gathering and tabulating information about Dublin’s social problems and by looking overseas for applicable solutions. These processes of professionalization and associational philanthropy developed to a significant extent along sectarian lines, but they also gave rise to spaces where members of the rival groups could cooperate for civic betterment despite political and religious rivalries. This essay offers insights into this overlapping civic sphere and its tensions through an examination of the career of one particular Catholic businessman, nationalist politician, and administrator who was active in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Charles Dawson (1842–1917), inheritor of a substantial bakery business and graduate of the Catholic University of Ireland, was prominent in the civic life of Dublin from the 1870s until his death. Because of the weakness of the Catholic University in these early years, its relative lack of alumni organizations, and the vicissitudes of the early Home Rule movement, mid-Victorian Catholic University students (unlike their Edwardian counterparts) are not usually viewed by scholars as a governing class in waiting, but this is clearly how the young Charles Dawson saw himself.3 As a Home Rule MP for Carlow borough (1880–85) and lord mayor of Dublin (1882–83), Dawson was briefly [End Page 114] regarded as one of Parnell’s leading followers. Yet Charles Dawson was not included in a recent essay collection on prominent lord mayors of Dublin, and there is no existing study of his career.4 Even detailed accounts of the Dublin of his era rarely mention his name. Several reasons can be assigned for Dawson’s eclipse. First, his political career—and much of his early social prominence—was underwritten by his network of bakeries, but his attempt to create a lasting business empire failed, and he was eventually obliged to abandon the enterprise along with direct political involvement in favor of city administrative office. The brevity of Dawson’s parliamentary career, and the tendency of accounts of the period to focus on land agitation and on Westminster, have obscured his municipal significance. Moreover, Dawson published no memoir and left no archive. Two of his four sons became...

The lost Ireland of Stephen Gwynn: Irish constitutional nationalism and cultural politics, 1864–1950. By Colin Reid. Pp x, 273. Manchester: Manchester University Press. 2011. £65. - Volume 38 Issue 149