Genius [pp. 136]

OVERLAND MONTHLY
in 1846, was Major of the First Regiment
of Dragoons, U.S. A.
When Mr. Trenor went to Lansingburgh,
his family consisted of his wife and their
seven children. Had he not escaped from
prison, he would perhaps have been executed, like his two comrades already mentioned; but he was spared to close his eyes
in a land of freedom, in the midst of his
children and descendants, in peace and
comfort, after a long and eventful life, at
the great age of eighty-seven years, and
without a day's illness; the strong heart
and will at last needed rest, and he simply
"fell on sleep."
Mr. Trenor was a large and powerfully
built man, five feet eleven and one half
inches in height, a fine athlete, and noticeably handsome. He held the championship
of Ireland in the running jump, and until
his departure in 1798, his record of twentyone feet, made at the Dublin Gymnasium,
stood unequaled. He was a member of the
"Beefsteak Club," of which the Prince of
Wales was president. It was organized by
a number of prominent men, for the general
object of enjoying good dinners, and the
club emblem, a silver gridiron, was worn on
the coat front.
In character he was generous, warmhearted, full of true Irish wit and mirth,
and as the preceding account proves, just
as ready to help and succor a friend in need
as he was quick in extricating himself from
difficulties. In America he made and lost two
fortunes, the loss in each instance arising
from trusting too implicitly those whom he
considered as true to him as he was to them.
It is customary to accuse poor men of
engaging in perilous enterprises with a
view to improve their personal fortunes,
but Mr. Trenor risked life in youth, and
put at hazard domestic comfort and great
wealth, that he might increase the happiness, or rather, that he might remove the
misery, of millions less favored than he.
As success failed to attend his patriotic
efforts, it was highly honorable to President
Jackson, that he placed in an easy position
under the Federal government, in the decline of his life, this exiled son of the Emerald Isle.
Though banished from Ireland forever,
Mr. Trenor obtained permission from the
British government, in 1832, to pass ninety
days in Dublin, under the eyes of the royal
police, for the settlement of certain urgent
private affairs. His old enemy, Major Sirr,
gave him a hearty handshake. He dined
and chatted with Daniel O'Connell, shed a
tear over the graves of his ancient comrades in a revolt that cost England a hundred millions of dollars, and Ireland many
thousands of her noblest sons; took a long,
a last farewell of the shores of his native
Erin, the scene of his early joys and sorrows, and returned to Columbia, the home
of his children, where,
After life's fitful fever
He sleeps well.
GENIUS
NOT one whose subtle art brings fame
And honor to an empty name;
But he whose sympathetic heart resounds
To each of Nature's soulful sounds;
Who, fearing none, yet rouseth no man's wrath,
And follows silently the unseen path,
Is genius.
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