* 
 
 
 
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THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY 
 
 From the collection of 
 Janies Collins, 
 Drumcondra, Ireland. 
 Purchased, 1918. 
 
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 E54-K 
 
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• Tp|. 
 
 THE LIFE AND TIMES. OF ROBERT EMMET 
 .A. LECTTJBE 
 
 . DEIYERED IN CONNECTION WITH ST. PETER’S CATHOLIC 
 YOUNG MEN’S SOCIETY, 
 
 By GEORGE HARLEY KIRK, Esq. 
 
 (Fr oDi the Drogheda Argus, Saturday, Ocm Id response 
 
 M-/6 /S4f 
 
 On Monday, Oct 16 th, the opening lectu of the 
 winter session, of this admirable society, was delivered 
 by George Harley Kirk, Esq., Ologher Hoad, The 
 opening of another session finds the society hale, vigo- 
 rous, and prosperous. The fact speaks volumes for the 
 energy and ability which has directed its affairs. Tq 
 the beloved spiritual director, Father M‘Kee, the posi- 
 tion which the society maintains, whose interest he has 
 influentially directed, watched over, and fostered with 
 every pulse of his Irish heart in its cause, must be a 
 matter of great pride. To Mr Christopher Tighe, and 
 Mr Peter Johnson, president and ’•secretary of the 
 society, and whose untiring exertions in connection 
 with it, it has often been our pleasing duty to notice, the 
 continued prosperity— and may it long continue — which* 
 marks the existence of the society must be also more 
 than pleasurable. The time for commencing the winter 
 session having arrived, a deputation from the society 
 waited, a few weeks since, on Mr Kirk to request that 
 he would give a series of lectures ; Mr Kirk kindly 
 acceded to their wish, and on Monday evening a de- 
 lighted audience listened to the first lecture — or oration 
 in the series. It was not the first time that Mr Kirk 
 had lectured for the society ; any of those lectures would 
 be sufficient to establish his fame as a highly accom- 
 plished and eloquent occupant of the rostrum. Poet, 
 patriot, and literateur , much~Nwas expected of his 
 lecture on Monc(ajf*lrv©«^^ on a subject — 
 
 Robert Emmet— sure to ’Svoke all his powers. Suffice it 
 to say that the lecture fulfilled the high expectancy of 
 the “auditory. The repeated plaudits with which its 
 eloquent and telling passages were received, showed how 
 successfully Mr Kirk spoke to the intellect and patriot- 
 ism of his hearers. Thelecture came off in the Mayoralty 
 Room. A very respectable and full audience attended. 
 The entrance of Mr Kirk, and of the clergymen amongst 
 the auditory, was received with rounds of applause. 
 Amongst those present were — Edward M‘Donough, 
 Esq. (Mayor); Very Rev Thomas Mathews, PP, St 
 Mary’s; Rev Thomas Gavin, CC, do; Rev Henry 
 
4 • 
 
 M'Kee, CO, »t Peter’s ; Rev F Doyle, OS A ; Rev Mr 
 Glynn, OSA ; Rev Mr O’Byrne, OSA ; -Mr Thomas 
 Daly, Mrs Daly, Miss Cronin, the Misses Kirk, Miss 
 Grey, Miss Courtney, Mr Thomas Connolly, Mr Leech, 
 HC , Mrs Leech, Mr Killeen* Town Cijerk ; Rev Brother 
 Larkin, Superior Christian Brothers ; Rev Brothers 
 O’Donnell; O’Malley,. Michael Cullen; TC; G Butterly, 
 sub • Jas A Clarke, Thos Clarke, Dublin; R J 
 
 * ; J Costello, Argus ; Rev T Bannon, CC, 
 d ; Rev J Gallogly, CO, Tullyallen; John 
 \ Hynn, TC ; John J Gormley TC ; Mr James 
 ivi‘Kenn MrJ A Flanagan, TC ; Mr R Kirk, New- 
 grange ; Jr J T Simpson, Solicitor, &c., &c. 
 
 At eight o’clock, the Rev Henry M‘Kee, spiritual 
 director of the society, took the chair, amidst loud 
 cheers. 
 
 The Chairman, on coming forward on the platform 
 to introduce Mr Kirk, was received with volleys of ap- 
 plause. He said that it gave him sineere pleasure to 
 announce that the winter session of their society opened 
 under circumstances as favourable as any during the 
 previous years of its long and prosperous career (loud 
 cheers). He was delighted to have the duty of telling 
 them that the inaugural lecture for the session. would 
 be delivered by Mr Harley Kirk (loud cheers). Mr 
 Kirk is a gentleman of high intellectual gifts, he has 
 made his mark in the literary world, and a better selec- 
 tion of a lecturer could not possibly be made (cheers). 
 
 A learned author has said that not to know the events 
 of the past was always to be a child. Mr Kirk, who is 
 not only a poet but an historical student of ’much re- 
 search in the lore of his oountry had ldndjy consented to 
 deliver a series of lectures lor them (cheers). Everyone 
 should learn the history of nations, especially that of 
 his own land (applause). Mr Kirk’s lecture would 
 treat upon an epoch round which the deepest interest of 
 Irishmen will ever centre It was a matter of congra- 
 tulation that they had not to go elsewhere to procure a 
 lecturer ; they had him here, at their own door, an able 
 one. On former occasions also they were indebted to Mr 
 Kirk for his kindness in coming forward to lecture for 
 them. After a few further observations the Chairman 
 concluded amidst applause. 
 
 Mr Kirk then came forward at the rostrum and was 
 greeted with loud applause. He said : — 
 
 Reverend Chairman, ladies and gentlemen— In once 
 more coming before the public, at the warm solicita- 
 tions of my young friends, the members of this invalu- 
 able society, I have endeavoured, knowing their love of 
 the old land which gave them birth, and the deep 
 interest which they take in her traditions, antiquities, 
 and history, to select the biography ot one of her highest; 
 
stte in the firmament of intellectual grandeur and 
 moral worth ; one’ef her moat sterling, disinterested, 
 and truest sons in patriotism ; one of her bravest and 
 mOst exalted children, although one- of the most 
 unfortunate’. -I km perfectly aware, that, to- do this 
 subject, which’ I have selected for this evenflVg,* full 
 justice, would require an adeptin oratory with the heart 
 of ''patriot." though I am far from having any- preten- 
 tions to the one, yet, I imagine what I feel, the other 
 beat proudly within my breast as if in bold response ; 
 so, without pleading further excuse for appearing before 
 you this evening, I will enter on my subject, by 
 quoting these lines of Pope : — 
 
 “ Who noble ends by noble means obtains, 
 
 Or falling, smiles 1 in exile or in chains, 
 
 Like good Aurelius, let him reign, or bleed, 
 
 Like’ Socralefc, that man is great indeed.” 
 
 ; ** * . ’ :u f • • . ■ 
 
 But this truth is far from being always adopted or 
 looked upon in the light it is set off in by the poet. Let 
 a man be noble, brave, virtuous, and endowed with a 
 brilliant intellect, let him work with a philanthropic 
 spirit for the good of humanity, and let him throw 
 himself heart and soul into a noble cause, and risk bis 
 honour, his fortune, his life, and 'even bis fame in the 
 undertaking and if it fails— the vulgar, who' would have 
 carried him on their shoulders in proud ovation, if 
 fortunate, are the first to censure and wrongly inter- 
 pret his zeal. But there are others f whora we would 
 expect more from, who equally malign and misrepresent 
 these noble specimens of humanity ; but, we think, 
 they . began too soon their nomenclature— rash 
 monomania© ! incorrigible fool ! Other times, and other 
 men, . when x the cloud of rank prejudice Js lost, in the 
 absorbing space of time will do justice, to their memo- 
 ries l wben the names of their persecutors are either 
 foTgpttJen, or remembered, only to be held up to odium 
 (applause). But inobje,' minds, even if in the opposing 
 npks are never carried away thus by prejudice, they 
 can freely, give tbe’ patriot or enthusiast hi s meed, 
 ancl can laud his integrity and virtues while they op- 
 pose bim for his principles or condemn him for his 
 rashness— they can admire him as a man, while they 
 condemn him as a rebel— for their thoughts are 
 moulded in the words of Young — 
 
 If nothing more than purpose in thy power, 
 
 Thy purpose firm, is equal to the deed, 
 
 Who does the best his circumstance allows. 
 
 Does well, acts nobly ; angles could no more. 
 
The subject of our lecture, to night, is one of those noble 
 characters, whose purpose was firm to the last although 
 fate proved unpropitious, and who won , nevertheless, 
 the unchanging hearts of the lowly and unlettered of his 
 country and whose name in every Irish cabin has 
 become a household word (cheers). Sixty five of 
 Ireland’s most sluggish and darkest years of captivity 
 have rolled heavily by since, upon a bright morning in 
 the month of September, vast crowds were seen hasten- 
 ing to one of those theatres of mock trial, which 
 adorned, not unfrequently, our cities, in those dark days 
 of bloodshed. This farce, the chief scene of which was 
 previously arranged at the Castle, was to be enacted in 
 Green street court house, and thither the multitude waa 
 seen bending its course. When the court sat, the first 
 impulse of the spectators was to cast their eyes with 
 abhorrence on that scorpion impersonation of satan, 
 Lord Norbury ; from him they wandered to the virulent 
 and rancourous Plunkett; but turning from that sycophant 
 lawyer, who, like crown lawyers in general, of whom 
 it has been remarked, they have at all times been of the 
 bloodhound tribe, seldom loosing scent of their prey 
 either from considerations of gratitude or humanity, 
 their eyes wandering from this sycophantic lawyer, 
 were at last rivited on a noble youthful form placed 
 at the bar, standing, though with unbroken spirit, 
 like a felon in the dock (cheers). The crowd hear with 
 burning brains and beating hearts the many accusations 
 brought forward, all tending to prove only that he loved 
 his country too well (applause). They are all un- 
 answered, for he allows no one to defend him, loving his 
 native land so much, needed no defence (hear, hear). 
 But the sentence of his condemnation being passed, 
 that legal humbug of the ermined rascals of that day, 
 the Clerk of the Crown asked the prisoner, as usual, had 
 he anything to say. It was then that the youthful 
 martyr, like a demigod, standing forward in the dock in 
 front of the bench, bearded those who dared to call 
 themselves countrymen while they thirsted lor the 
 sacrifice (loud applause). Then it was that his thrilling 
 oratory, like a thunderbolt, burst upon those miserable 
 representatives of the law, and while it partly awoke 
 their slumbering consciences, and startled them in the 
 midst of their power, paralysed every expression but 
 that of shame. But the surpassing eloquence of that 
 dying speech, which was delivered in a firm, clear voice, 
 loud enongh to be heard distinctly at the outer dours of 
 the Court House, was to work a different effect upon 
 the crowd. The ringing sweetness of the accents and 
 cadences of that charming voice were, thought after life 
 to come ringing like a wreath of vocal pearls through 
 the brightest vistas of their recollections ; and those 
 
words of fire, which they heard delivered by the young 
 patriot martyr, were to be deeply engraved on their 
 hearts, from which an impression was to be taken by 
 those of their children. Yes, that brilliant speech was 
 to be delivered as an heir-loom to their posterity (ap- 
 plause). But he asked one request on his premature 
 departure from this world, that was the “ charity of its 
 silence,” until his dearly beloved country should be 
 ranked amongst the nations of the globe (loud applause). 
 This solemn appeal has not in the literal sense been 
 acceded to. Certainly his tomb remains uninscribed ; 
 no man has dared to write his epitaph, for the time has 
 not yet come , but the time has come when those who 
 knew his motives can dare to vindicate them, and no 
 longer could they be suffered to rest in obscurity and 
 peace (hear, hear). “Let my memory,” he says, “be 
 left in oblivion,” but Irishmen would be base born 
 slaves if they suffered his memory to sleep in the shade. 
 No ! that memory is not alone cherished in his own 
 loved Island of Tears, but it has gone foith over the 
 blue expansive waters of the wide Atlantic ; we find it 
 treasured in the wildest savannas and most interminable 
 prairies of the New World, and in La Belle France it 
 has gone forth from the press, under the auspices of 
 feminine beauty, rank, and that undying love of 
 patriotism and liberty so congenial to the French 
 character. Yes, that memory could not be allowed to 
 remain in oblivion by his countrymen at home while it 
 was so much honoured abroad ; while it was venerated 
 in America as that of a martyr ; the sign post not unfre- 
 quently to be met with there was the figure of that 
 noble specimen of humanity trampling upon the crown 
 of England (applause). We find that upon the banners 
 of that free land, during the time of elections, his por- 
 trait fluttered in the breeze beside those of Washington, 
 Jackson, and Franklin; as the Nation says, “Even 
 now his speech is learned by heart in the schools. It is 
 the gospel of rebellion against England.” Then, how 
 couldlreland forget her martyr’s memory, whoselove and 
 devot6dness to her most exalted principles were sealed 
 with his blood ? How could Ireland forget the brave, 
 vanquished, though yet echoing to the march of the 
 triumphal victor ? Could she allow that sacred memory 
 to rest in oblivion while'it was echoed in the loud paeans 
 of other lands ? Could Ireland forget that name — that 
 character — and let it rest in obscurity while prejudice 
 and ignorance aspersed it (cries of* ‘no, no.”) She 
 might as well try to forget the wrongs of seven hundred 
 years ; she might as well look upon the cicatrices of her 
 former wounds, and forget the chains of slavery that 
 made them (loud applause). No, Ireland could never 
 let his memory rest in oblivion, she could net give him 
 
8 
 
 • that silence which he craved, for her heart was bis, and 
 her tongue and her pen can now do justioe, though 
 
 is still unfreed, to his principles and the misfortunes which 
 
 • c-rushed him. With this plea fpr bringing the character 
 and principles of our illustrious countryman bqfore.you, 
 before I enter into a concise sketch of his life, I must 
 bring to your recollections the stormy days which 
 immediately preceded his coming on the political arena 
 of his country, those dark days, from a long act of 
 tyranny, and a long night of bondage, which at last 
 burst into the nearly successful rebellion of 1798. And 
 where is the Irishman 
 
 Who fears to speak of Ninety-eight ? 
 
 Who blushes at the name ? . 
 
 When cowards mock the patriots fate, 
 yVho hangs his head for snarne/?, 
 
 . * * * . * * *# | 
 
 All-all are gone— but still lives on 
 The fame of those who died-- * 
 
 All true men, like you,. men, \ 
 
 Remember them with pride. 
 
 • ; •« , V . V ' ' ’ '/ W * /./I 1 •: { 
 
 (Applause). Even those who, look upqn ,the outbreak 
 of ’98 as an insurrection to be condemned in principle, 
 must admit that the provocations Irishmen received . 
 were afull justification of the course which they pursued; 
 as it is said, “ the English have never endeavoured to 
 exuse their conduct in Ireland. They 6ay very little 
 about it, and when they speak they do so with great 
 ; reserve, Indeed, on their Irish policy silence is wisdon?. 
 t By an instinct dictated as much by policy as by any 
 generous sentirpent of honour they cast a veil over the 
 faults of their countrymen.” The iron grasp of England 
 was never relaxed upon Ireland— she was as an incu- 
 bus pressed upon her, or as. a vampire eternally sucking 
 the life-blood from her veins— she crushed every attempt 
 at her prosperity in the embryo— she ignored tfie rights 
 of her people, and their -creed was recognised but tQ bp 
 an instrument of her greater persecution— her children 
 were denied the use of letters in order to .make them 
 a more easily enchained race. Her policy consisted’ of 
 making them the most servile and cringing slaves, 
 and he who sought with honest pride for a higher order 
 in the human family, received for his praiseworthy 
 . aspirations but death or extermination (loud applause). 
 
 , Thus did Ireland writhe under the barbarous rule of 
 England. But she reared up and pampered within her 
 own bosom, if possible, a poisonous brood, more blood- 
 thirsty and cruel than th;>se imported from England. 
 The yeomen and their leautrs having the framers of the 
 , laws on their side (the viper Castlereagh, who, in the 
 
9 
 
 true and bitter words of Byron, “cut his country’s 
 ' throat and then his own,” and his compeers. O ! shade 
 of Cromwell ! of whom we might say, as Von Kanke 
 
 • says of Csesar Borgia, that they were*' virtuosos in 
 crime!) scourged the people with impunity in the most 
 barbarous and heartrending way ever devised toy even the 
 most refined in ’cruelty. The laws which *were enforced 
 during this reign' of terror were nothing new to Ireland, 
 a few of which, by the way of example,' will not, 
 perhaps, be foreign to our purpose. Not only were the 
 
 .Catholics excluded from all offices, civil and political, 
 but -they were forbidden to carry arths fot personal 
 1 defence, and he who attacked and plundered a Catholic 
 (carrying arms) oh the highway was not liable to any 
 
 • punishment. By virtue of the law, whoever laid infor- 
 mation against a Catholic immediately got possession of 
 his fortune; Catholic parents were forbidden to educate 
 their children-; the son by abjuring* his father’s faith 
 immediately acquired his 'father’s fortune. Oathplios 
 were forbidden to 'purchase or inherit lands, &C, &c.— 
 According to*a solemn declaration’ of the ‘Lord’ Chan- 
 cellor, in 1769, the very existence of a great majority of 
 the people was not Recognised by the law, and depended 
 only on the caprice of the government. Noble, generous, 
 and high minded Protestants, and Presbyteriaus, 
 indignant at the hateful iniquities practiced upon their 
 Catholic brethren, were the first to embark in the. cause 
 pf liberty and to strike for freedom (loud applause). 
 Amongst thoso who enrolled thbmSeives with Lord 
 •Edward Fitzgerald and Wolfe Tone— (cheers)— 
 •in this nobler cause, was the . brother of our hero, 
 
 • Thomas 'Addis- Emmet ) but fate- proving unkind, on 
 the issue of their -attempt, .scarcely one of these un* 
 
 ■ successful leaders but came to (by England), a supposed 
 ignominious end on the scaffold; Emmet, after a long 
 imprisonment,, more fortunate than the majority of his 
 ■colleagues escaped to America (hear, andcbeers), there to 
 shine for many years a bright ornament of the American 
 bar ^cheers). Though, the rebellion of Ninety Eight 
 was crushed— though its active fires were extinguished 
 — yet' the embers smouldered, were still glowing, and 
 only required - to be tanned until the flames should 
 burst out afresh. Bobert Emmet who was very- 
 young did not join his brother Thomas Addis and 
 follow the 'fortunes of the insurgents of that time, but 
 pursued his studies with the greatest success in Trinity 
 College, and while he surmounted the highest obstacles 
 in the mazy paths of learning, he acquired an un- 
 quenchable love of liberty, the most implacable hatred 
 of England, and the most praiseworthy ambition of 
 serving at a future period the interests of his country 
 (cheers). His family were .conspirators, linked with 
 
 
10 
 
 the destiny of thoir country, and his eager spirit caught 
 very early the principles of his brother. When he 
 was but fifteen, he was present at some meeting held 
 at his father’s house by the United Irish Association; 
 where he heard Tone expound his principles and 
 devise his plans, for the redemption of his native land, 
 and whose daring spirit and eloquent tongue we are 
 told, won the soul, and affected the heart of the young 
 enthusiast (cheers). That love of liberty, and that 
 firmness of character, which for a sime seemed to 
 hold an influence over a nation’s destiny, 
 could be traced very distinctly while he was yet a boy 
 (cheers). An anecdote has been recorded, which shows 
 his perseverance and endurance under pain, and his 
 presence of mind in the moment of danger even at a 
 very tender age. Being a lover of chemistry, 
 he amused himself frequently at his father’s house by 
 making experiments in this science. Here is a 
 characteristic anecdote After one of these boyish 
 essays in the art, when a friend who had been aiding 
 him, had retired, he sat down to solve an intricate 
 problem in algebra While wholly absorbed 
 in the difficult task, he chanced to put his fingers to 
 his mouth, some corrosive sublimate being upon them, 
 he unconscionsly, while biting his nails, received some 
 of the poison into his mouth, a circumstance which 
 nearly caused his death. Upon being seized with 
 excruciating pains, he became fully aware of the im- 
 mediate danger to his life. But his first impulse was 
 not as we would suppose to alarm the household. No, 
 he went to his library, and deliberately taking down 
 an encyclopaedia, looked for the article ‘ poisons’, 
 and having found that chalk was recommended as an 
 antidote against the poison which he had swallowed, 
 he went to the coach house where he had seen his 
 friend Mr Patten using chalk and having broken open 
 the door, made use of the chalk as directed (applause): 
 One would think he had quite enough study tor that 
 evening, but quite the contrary, he determined to solve 
 the question, which the author acknowledged to be a 
 very difficult one ; so having regained his study, he 
 commenced his labour again, though under severe 
 tortures, and never relaxed in his efforts until he had 
 gained the solution. Our he ro w as born in Alolesworth 
 street, Dublin, in the year 1778. He was the youngest 
 son of Dr Robert Emmet who was a leading practi- 
 tioner of that city. This gentleman was descend* d 
 from a highly respectable family, natives of the county 
 Cork. Soon after his marriage with idiss Elizabeth 
 Temple, (who was descended from the celebrated Sir 
 William Temple) he removed to Dublin in 1760. 
 Robert, who was much younger than his other two 
 
11 
 
 brothers, was sent at a very early age to school, to 
 Oswald’s, in Dopping’s Court, off Golden Lane ; where 
 it is likely he imbibed a taste for the severer studies of 
 the exact sciences, as this school was renowned in 
 those days for mathematics. From this school he was 
 sent to Samuel White of Grafton street, and some time 
 afterwards, to the Rev Mr Lewis of Camden street, and 
 ultimately he became a student of Trinity Callege, at 
 the early age of fifteen, in the year 1793, where he con- 
 tinued an undergraduate, distinguishing himself by his 
 noble nature, brilliant genius, and transcendant powers 
 of oratory, until in the spring of 1798, akng with some 
 other students, he was summarily driven from ’the 
 university on account of his political tendencies. There 
 had been an historical and debating society formed in 
 the College in the year 1770, at which Curran, Grattan, 
 and many other transcendant orators first essayed their 
 powers. To this society our young hero was admitted a 
 member, and it was during these debates, that the 
 splendour of his attainments and the eloquence of his 
 speech made themselves apparent (applause): Those 
 
 who heard him speak at these meetings bear testimony, 
 that, man never was gifted with a more, rare and fas- 
 cinating eloquence than he ; even the day he made his 
 debut, in this debating society, he proved that he pos- 
 sessed a remarkable and first rate order of talents (ap- 
 plause). The subject started was, “ Is a complete 
 freedom of discussion essential to the well being of a 
 good and virtuous Government.” Modern politics be- 
 ing forbidden by the rules of the society, this subject 
 was handled by young Emmet in his maiden speech, in 
 the most clever and masterly manner, he beiug on the 
 liberal side, of course; and he kept within the bounds 
 prescribed by the society most adroitly, while he ex- 
 pounded his case in the most vivid manner. All his 
 arguments were replied to at considerable length, by a 
 student named Lefroy, who was afterwards judge. On 
 the conclusion of Lefroy’s reply, Emmet rose, and in a 
 speech which must have been unpremeditated, displayed 
 his brilliant powers of discussion, reasoning, and ex- 
 tempore oratory, in neutralizing the objections of 
 his opponent ; the only part of which preserved be- 
 ing the finish. " If Government,” he says “ were 
 vicious enough to put down the freedom of discussion 
 it would be the duty of the people to deliberate on the 
 errors of their rulers, to consider well the wrongs they 
 inflicted, and what the right course would be for their 
 subjects to take; and having done so, it then would be 
 their duty to draw practical conclusions.” Grace must 
 have been a natural gift of Emmet’s as well as eloquence, 
 for Macartney, who preserved the conclusion of this 
 first speech of his, says that although he preserved the 
 
substance* it was impossible to portray his grace or ani- ' 
 mation (applause). Many tributes have been paid to 
 this great man’s genius apd oratory. Grattan says, that 
 his eloquence was truly surprising, and Mr Burrows has 
 often said, th%t he never .met a man, in any part of the 
 world, endowed, with such transcendant eloquence ; and 
 Madden tells us, though he has spoken to many on this 
 subject .who have heard the voice of the young orator 
 many times in this society, many of whom were of high 
 Tory principles, yet, that the same meed was. bestowed 
 on the oratorical powers of the young patriot martyr . 
 (applause). “ The powers, of Emmet’s eloquence,” says 
 Moore,,* was wonderful, and I feel at this moment as if , 
 hia language, was still sounding in my ears/ A writer in 
 the London and Dublin magazine says, “ during these 
 harangues,, (in the debating society), . Emmet’s fine 
 manly .countenance, glowed with an enthusiastic 
 ardour, and he delivered himself with as :mu.ch animated , 
 fervour as if he were addressing a numerous but dis- 
 tracted assembly which he wished to- persuacfe. His 
 words flowed with a graceful .fluency, and he combined . 
 his arguments with all the e>'Se of a man accustomedho . 
 abstract discussion.” The Government feared so much ; 
 the influence of his oratory, even while yet a student, 
 in Trinity College, that there was a lawyer, famed at , 
 the bar for his cleverness, sent to overwhelm his reason-, 
 ing and to repair the breaches made in the. loyalty.qf ■ 
 those around him. But it was not in eloquence alone • 
 thas he shone during those school boy days. Moore, 
 who was his fellow student and frequently his compa- 
 nion, speaks of his many admirable and noble qualities 
 in the warmest terms. ‘ Were I to number, indeed, the 
 men among all I have ever known, who appeared to me 
 to combine in the greatest degree pure moral worth, 
 with intellectual power, I should among the highest of 
 the few, place Robert Emmet, wholly free from the follies 
 and frailties of youth — though how capable he was of 
 the most devoted passions, events afterwards proved,* 
 The pursuit of science, in which/ he eminently distin? 
 guished himself, seemed at this ..time .the only object 
 that at all divided his. thoughts, with that enthusiasm 
 for Irish freedom; which ,ip him was an hereditary as 
 well as- a. national feeling^; .himself • being the second 
 martyr his father had. givqp. . .I q the cause (applause). 
 Simple in all his habits, and wjtjh a repose of look and 
 manner indicating but little movement within, it was 
 only when the spring was touched, that set his feelings, 
 and through- then*, his intellect ip mption f >that ho at all 
 rose above the level o fordinary men.* ..Possessed pf, the 
 noblest of arts and all the rare qualities which adorh and 
 mark a t^uly, great. man, Emgaet on attaining his twen- 
 tieth year, in the Spring of 17|98, found hioiself the 
 
13 
 
 centre of a circle of ardent and patriotic youths, whoso 
 ‘ souls lie held ,in his hands in a University where the 
 genius and aristocracy of Ireland were supposed to be 
 moulded to the interests of England.’ But his stay was 
 now to be of short duration in Trinity College, ‘the 
 chief ornament’ as Moore calls him .* of the popular 
 party.’ In the month of February, in this year, he was 
 expelled by the Lord Chancellor during bis visitation 
 there ; being charged along with some others, of not 
 being burdened with too great a stock of loyalty to the 
 Crown. He had written a letter to the board which re- 
 ceived the approbation of his father before enclosing it* 
 asking to have his name struck off the list of students ; 
 at the same time condemning their mode of endeavour- 
 ing to receive on oath, information from the students 
 respecting any of their associates who might chance to 
 be implicated in the United Irishman’s Society ; but be- 
 fqra jtfus letter reached its destination, it is said, his 
 na^t;was, struck off the College roll. Although Moore 
 thought that there. was very little doubt of Emmet’s 
 being while at College a United Irishmen, yet we have 
 no tangible proof of hia being at that time & member of 
 the society ; in faet it is not known the exact time when ho 
 became one. We find him now entering society and 
 becoming a visitor of one of Ireland’s greatest orna- 
 ments in patriotism, this was Lord Cloncurry, who 
 treated him with the greatest kindness and who has 
 thus spoken of him afterwards in his memoirs. ‘ I little 
 thought when I saw at my house that intelligent, enthu- 
 siastic, and animated lad, that, six years afterwards, he 
 would organise a .new insurrection, and in punishment 
 Iqr his imprudence, lay. his head on. the scaffold.’ 
 There was another . of Ireland’s brilliant ornaments 
 whom he now became acquainted with, and he became a 
 constant visitor at the country seat of this most gifted 
 of men, in wit and' or,atQry..< -v His dwelling was 
 constantly filled with the litprati .in ©very department, 
 and he was the brilliant $un around who pa this eminent 
 society moved, like planets lit up , by the vivid and 
 lucid flashes -of his wit and humour, this talented 
 original was John Philpot Curran (applause). Though 
 young Emmet, like others, was at first attracted by the 
 singular genius, love of home, and straightforward 
 character of this great man ; yet, very soon there 
 sprung up another attraction for the young patriot, far 
 superior to any that ha I ever before come in his way. 
 She who was to be linked with his destiny through life 
 —she alone who was to share his heart with his country 
 —she who was to prove the bright star of his existence 
 — his dream of the future, had now. for the first time 
 crossed his path. This young girl,, who made such an 
 impression on the heart and on the mind of Robert, was 
 
14 
 
 the daughter of Curran, and hardly attained her eigh- 
 teenth year. Their intimacy soon ripened into a 
 passionate and ardent love, which became mutual, and 
 that reciprocal affection tried by the severest ordeal was, 
 alas ! too soon proved to he deep and lasting (applause). 
 When .Curran noticed the close intimacy which was 
 springing up between Emmet and his daughter/ not 
 liking Robert for a son-in-law, not from any objection 
 to the man, for he had the highest opinion of him, and 
 used to say, “ I would have depended more on his word 
 than on the oath of another man ” But he feared a 
 connection with the scion of a rebellious family as dan- 
 gerous, and wished to escape being linked with one whom 
 he thought too enthusiastic in the cause of freedom, so 
 far so, as to be likely to bring him to the scaffold. 
 These considerations induced Curran to treat Robert 
 coldly, in order that he might give up the idea of his 
 daughter. But ah ! he little knew how far the undying 
 affection of the deepest love had penetrated the inner- 
 most recesses of the souls of these young people, But 
 the sequel must be told, to show to what extent this 
 love existed and how far the father was deceived in his 
 calculations. Robert Emmet had written stme pieces 
 of poetry shortly after he left College. One of these 
 pieces, not deficient in poetic harmony and deep pathos, 
 shows those feelings which actuated him at a later 
 period, to endeavour to throw off the yoke of tyranny. 
 These lines he calls ‘ Arbour Hill/ this place was a spot 
 marked by many executions in those troublesome times, 
 and the victims massacred there were buried close by 
 in a waste piece of ground called 1 croppies hole/ a 
 receptacle also tor rubbish Influenced by deep feelings 
 at such outrages perpetrated by the Tyrant, the young 
 patriot begins thus ; — 
 
 No rising column marks the spot, 
 
 Where many a victim lies, 
 
 But oh ! the blood which here has streamed. 
 
 To heaven for justice cries. 
 
 It claims it on the oppressor’s head, 
 
 Who joys in human woe, 
 
 Who drinks the tears by misery shed, 
 
 And mocks them as they flow. 
 
 It claims it on the callous judge, 
 
 Whose hands in blood are dyed, 
 
 Who arms injustice with the sword, 
 
 The balance throws aside. 
 
 Oh ! sacred justice, free this land 
 From tyranny abhorred ; 
 
 Resume thy balance and thy seat, 
 
 Resume— but sheath the sword; 
 
15 
 
 It claims it for his ruined Isle, 
 
 Her wretched children’s grave ; 
 
 Where withered freedom drops her head, 
 
 And man exists — a slave. 
 
 No retribution shouldtwe seek—* 
 
 Too long has horror reigned ; 
 
 By mercy maiked may°freedon rise ; 
 
 By cruelty unstained. 
 
 Nor shall a tyrant’sjashes mix 
 With those our martyred dead ; 
 
 This is the place where Erin’s sons, 
 
 In Erin’s cause have bled. 
 
 And those who here are laid'at rest, 
 
 Oh ! hallowed be each name ; 
 
 Their memories are for ever blest— 
 
 Consigned to endless fame. 
 
 Unconsecrated is this grave, 
 
 Unblessed by holy hands ; 
 
 No bell here tolls its solemn sound. 
 
 No monument here stands. 
 
 But here the patriot’s tears are shed, 
 
 The poor man’s blessing given ; 
 
 These consecrate the virtuous dead, 
 
 These waft their famfe to Heaven. 
 
 Robert, who had performed some importanf commis- 
 sions for some of the leaders implicated in 1798, con- 
 ceived an intention of going to th 9 Continent sometime 
 in the year 1800. * It is suspected that this journey was 
 undertaken for a higher object than that of pleasure. 
 Before Betting out he went to see his brother who was a 
 state prisoner at Fort St George, in Scotland, from 
 whom it is likely he received instructions for the Irish 
 refugees in France, and also for the Executive power. 
 ? He stayed two months with his brother and returned to 
 Dublin in time to be a spectator in the House of Com- 
 mons of those wild scenes that were enacted, immediately 
 the precursors of the passing of the Union Act ;and we 
 come to the last scene, in the panorama of Castlereagh’s 
 iniquity in this case, we see Grattan carried in a litter to 
 the house to deliver his dying speech against England’s 
 baseness. * Connection’ he says, ‘ is a wise and pro- 
 found policy ; but connection without an Irish Parlia- 
 ment is connection without its principle, without ana- 
 logy or condition, without the pride of honour that 
 shall attend it ; it is innovation, it is peril, it is subjuga- 
 tion— not connection (applause}. Yet I do not give up 
 the country : I see her in a swoon, but she is not 
 dead (appause). Though in her tomb she lies, helpless 
 and motionless, still there is on her lips a spirit of life? 
 and on her cheek a glow of beauty : — 
 
16 
 
 Thou art not conquered ; beauty’s ensign yet 
 Is crimson in thy lips and ingthy cheeks, 
 
 And death’s pale flag is not advanced here. 
 While a plank of the vessel sticks together I will not 
 leave her. Let the courtier present his flimsy sail and 
 carry the light barque ot his faith with every new 
 breath of wind, I will remain anchored here — with 
 fidelity to the fortunes of my country— faithful to her 
 freedom, faithtul to her fall’ (applause). But the gold of 
 England proved more irresistible to a venal parliament, 
 than the eloquence of this first of earthly orators, and 
 the union was passed. But while this deep wrong to 
 Ireland was enacting, there was a noble youth to be 
 seen, listening 'in the gallery of the house, to all that 
 was passing, in the most solemn and attentive manner, 
 who, -when the speaker^ throwing down the bill lipon 
 the table, (with what seemed to be undisguised emotions 
 of extreme dissatisiaction) declared it was passed, slowly 
 retired from the scene of iniquity, after taking a sacred 
 vow, never to relax in his deep resolve, until 
 he would free at some future period his trampled and 
 enslaved country, while he secretly breathed to her within 
 
 his own bosom these words of comfort 
 ‘ Thy chains as they rankle, thy blood as it runs, 
 
 But make thee more painfully dear to thy sons, 
 
 Whose hearts,, like the young of the desert-bird’s nest, 
 Drink love in each life dropjthat flows from th} breast.’ 
 
 Robert Emmet now started for the continent as the 
 last plank of Freedom’s semblance was withdrawn from 
 his country ; when the Island though not lifeless seemed 
 to lie in a trance ; when she seemed in her darkest and 
 most sluggish hour of captivity; when, the wild hurri- 
 cane of treachery on one side and rebellion on the other, 
 which convulsed her political waters, had' subsided into 
 a stillness and unbroken repose. But beneath 
 this awful guise, no one knew better thain the young 
 patriot that some terrible design lurked, beneath these 
 signs of apparent calmness, that there lingered the hot 
 ashes of a volcano which was ready to burst out afresh 
 on the first favourable opportunity. J It* was to facilitate 
 this object —the idol of his heart— -the day dream of his 
 youth— that our young hero embarked for the continent, 
 through which we are constrained to trace his wandering 
 footsteps for a few years. We ha've no proofs or know 
 ledge of his real object or intentions' while travelling on 
 the continent, further, than through cebjecture, until 
 the close of the B^cend year after his departure. 'Tra- 
 velling under the guise' of a young gentleman seeking 
 for information or pleasure,' we find him making a tour 
 through Holland and Switzerland and also visiting 
 many places in Franc©: 
 
17 
 
 During this time he must have been deeply 
 engaged in studying the tactics of war, from 
 military books which were in his possession ; for 
 they bear strong evidence of the untiring industry, 
 and anxious care given by the young patriot during 
 their perusal. One of those volumes on military 
 tactics which has come into the possession of 
 Madden, is filled with pencil notes, in Robert’s hand- 
 writing, “ which one,” he says, “ might suppose 
 written by a person whose most intense application 
 had been given to the subject of the work, and 
 whose closest attention had been bestowed on every 
 line.” During his wanderings the young patriot 
 never for a moment forgot his country, or her 
 slighted cause, and he represents himself as an exile, 
 sending up a constant prayer to heaven for her 
 freedom (applause). % His sentiments, at this time, 
 are breathed through his own lines : — 
 
 Ah ! where is now my peaceful cot, 
 
 Ah ! where my happy home ? 
 
 No peaceful cot, alas ! is mine, 
 
 An exile now I roam — 
 
 Far from my country I am driven, 
 
 A wanderer sent from thee, 
 
 But still, my constant prayer to heaven, 
 
 Shall be to make thee free. 
 
 • 
 
 The peace between England and France, con- 
 cluded at Amiens, in March, 1802, was doomed, as 
 it was not difficult to foresee, to be but of short 
 duration. As the rupture between those two 
 powers was drawing near we find Emmet hastening 
 to Paris in the autumn of the same year. Here he 
 remained two months, during which time he had 
 two interviews with Buonaparte, then First Consul, 
 and several with Talleyrand, who was Minister of 
 Foreign Affairs. At Paris he met several of the 
 distinguished Irish refugees, amongst whom were 
 his brother Thomas Addis Emmet, Lord Cloncurry , 
 Mac Nevin and O’Connor, all of whom had not 
 given up the idea of making another attempt to free 
 Ireland from the British yoke. The youngest 
 Emmet’s interview with Buonaparte inspired him 
 with unfavourable impressions of his purity of in- 
 tentions or good faith towards Ireland, and his ideas 
 with regard to Talleyrand, to whom the First 
 
 i 
 
18 
 
 Consul referred him, seem to have been not much 
 more favourable. Though Robert Emmet was the 
 youngest of the chiefs of this party then in Paris, it 
 was reserved for him to discover first the true 
 character of Buonaparte, and the first to place no 
 reliance in him, further than that he would give 
 assistance to their cause as far as it would be profit- 
 able to himself ; and he saw through the First 
 Consul an inclination to annex Ireland to France, 
 which he determined to oppose even more firmly 
 than the oppression of England. The penetration 
 of thp young Irish enthusiast saw but one real 
 mqtive in the words of Napoleon, that was to 
 declare war against England and to make a descent 
 upon her shores, and that he cared little for the 
 liberty of Ireland,, further than that it would be 
 useful in facilitating his own object. Emmet 
 resolved to offer him no means in his power 
 for the easy conquest of Ireland ; but determined 
 to act in Ireland in conjunction with his attack 
 upon the shores of England, when he might be able 
 to establish an independent republic in his native 
 land, which Buonaparte would find dangerous to 
 his policy to crush for the aggrandizement of France. 
 Ireland, that supplied the navy of England with the 
 best seamen in the world, and her army with the 
 finest soldiers, would be more safe and useful to 
 France as a sincere and grateful ally than a 
 r'eluctant subject. Knowing this, Emmet thought 
 it would restrain the unquenchable ambition of 
 Buonaparte, but beyond this, he had no trust in his 
 sincerity ; and he was the only one of his party not 
 duped by his machinations and deceit. And he was 
 soon, able to give his colleagues a full proof of 
 Buonaparte’s duplicity and infidelity to their cause, 
 while he never ceased to have frequent communica- 
 tion with Ireland and the chiefs of her rebellious 
 people then in France", This was a copy of a dis- 
 patch sent to Mr. Otto, then French minister at the 
 court of London, the contents of which Robert was 
 put in possession of, which were, that if the English 
 would drive out of her territories all those obnoxious 
 to Napoleon, the French government would act 
 with; perfect reciprocity.' As Madden says, “ there 
 is no mistaking this reciprocity.” It is quite 
 evident that Buonaparte determined to place the 
 Irish refugees — the men he had been treating with 
 
19 
 
 and luring by fair promises for two years, at the 
 disposal of the English government. In this we 
 have a picture of the faith of Napoleon the First ; 
 those who sought an asylum in the land of liberty, 
 under the protection of the first of warriors, were to 
 be deceived by him with fair promises, while he was 
 leading them to the sacrifice. He was going to 
 forsake the cause of the oppressed country, and 
 give over its noblest and bravest sons to that nation 
 to which he bore the most implacable hatred. 
 Should Ireland revere the name of Napoleon ? No ! 
 it ought to be hateful to her (merely as much so as 
 to Tyrol), it brought her nothing but misfortune, 
 except by chance, through the fear by which England 
 beheld the increasing power of France. Yet we 
 find it revered by many in Ireland, while many of 
 her true patriots, whom he meditated evil to, are 
 forgotten . Alas ! how fickle and capricious do we 
 find the minds of the majority of the human family — • 
 the name to be remembered forgotten, and the one 
 to be forgotten remembered (applause). But the 
 service rendered Ireland by Napoleon was paid back 
 with double interest. It was reserved for an Irish 
 general, and Irish valour, at last, to extinguish his 
 power and to pull him down from that giddy height 
 of ambition to which he soared. And often did he 
 regret, when exiled to a solitary rock in the midst of 
 the ocean,. his neglect of Ireland, and the lightness 
 with which he looked upon her insignificance. There 
 is no doubt, as a French lady remarks, Napoleon 
 wanted that nobleness of soul which we imagine 
 always should be the concomitant of a powerful 
 genius like his. Emmet had penetration enough, 
 even though so youthful and enthusiastic, as to 
 discover this great defect, and to distrust the 
 sincerity of his promises, which the other exiles had 
 not the perspicuity to discover until made more 
 apparent. Though Emmet distrusted the pro- 
 fessions of the First Consul, yet he determined that 
 the rising intended in Ireland should take place 
 about the time that the French would invade Eng- 
 land. For this purpose he sought a final interview 
 with Buonaparte, and learned from him that 
 hostilities would be renewed in May, and that the 
 expedition against England would be undertaken in 
 the month of August. With this assurance, (the 
 only part of the conference on Napoleon’s side, 
 
20 
 
 which he deemed worthy of being relied on,) he 
 started to his native land to organise those still 
 ripe for rebellion, undeterred by the sad fate of many 
 of the movers in the last insurrection ; and in order 
 to disguise his intentions and avoid suspicion he 
 made his rout homewards by Holland and England 
 [applause]. He parted with his brother, Thomas 
 Addis, at Amsterdam, never more to behold him in 
 this life. While unconscious of this final separa- 
 tion from him he loved so dearly, his young heart, 
 buoyant with bright hopes and his noble soul glow- 
 ing with enthusiasm and expectation as he looked 
 from the vessel’s prow, which bore him proudly over 
 the silent and expansive sea, to the bright blue hills 
 of Erin ; we can fancy him addressing these lines of 
 his to the genius of his country : — 
 
 Genius of Erin tune thy harp 
 To freedom, let its sound awake 
 
 Thy prostrate sons, and nerve their hearts ; 
 Oppression’s iron bonds to break. 
 
 Long and strong then strike the lyre, 
 
 Strike it with prophetic lays, 
 
 Bid it rouse the slumbering fire, 
 
 Bid the fire of freedom blaze. 
 
 Tell them glory waits their efforts, 
 
 Strongly wooed she will be won, 
 
 Freedom, show, by peace attended, 
 
 Waits to crown each gallant son. 
 
 Greatly daring bid them gain her, 
 Conquerors, bid them live or die ; 
 
 Erin in her children triumphs, 
 
 Marked by glory if they die. 
 
 But if her sons, too long opprest, 
 
 No spark of freedom’s fire retain, 
 
 And, with sad and servile breast, 
 
 Basely wear the galling chain. 
 
 Vainly'then you’d call to glory, 
 
 Yainly freedom’s blessings praise, 
 
 Man debased to willing thraldom, 
 
 Freedom’s blessing cannot raise. 
 
21 
 
 Check thy hand, and change thy strain, 
 Change it to a sound of woe, 
 
 Ireland’s blasted hopes proclaim, 
 
 Ireland’s endless sufferings show. 
 
 Shew her fields with blood ensanguined, 
 With her children’s blood bedewed, 
 
 Shew her desolated plains, 
 
 With their murdered bodies strewed. 
 
 Mark that hamlet, how it blazes, 
 
 Hear the shrieks of horror rise, 
 
 See the fiends prepare their tortures, 
 
 See oh ! tortured victim dies. 
 
 Ruin stalks his haggard round, 
 
 O’er the plains his banner waves, 
 
 Sweeping from her wasted land { 
 
 All but tyrants and their slaves. 
 
 All but tyrants and their slaves ! 
 
 Shall they live in Erin’s isle ? 
 
 O’er her martyred patriots’ graves, 
 
 Shall oppression’s minions smile. 
 
 Erin’s sons awake ! — awake ! 
 
 Oh ! too long, too long, you sleep ; 
 
 Awake ! arise ! your fetters break, 
 
 Nor let your country bleed and weep. 
 
 The terrible scheme which Robert Emmet now 
 journied on to accomplish is considered, by the 
 fastidious in war, and those who have no fancy for 
 the ring of a rifle, except in bringing down a wild 
 turkey ; or the clash of steel, except through a 
 sirloin of beef, as one of the wildest undertakings 
 a hair brained scamp could conceive. This idea has 
 gone forth, and has been received by many more 
 intelligent — more patriotic — and not so selfish, who 
 are ignorant of the connecting links and chance 
 resources relied on by the young patriot. 
 He was too enthusiastic and his conduct was rash, 
 I will. readily admit, but nevertheless his plans were 
 well founded and he had a good chance of success . 
 But he was not the author of the conspiracy though 
 he headed the rising in 1803, he was in France when 
 he heard there were preparations making for a new 
 
22 
 
 outbreak : this being the very thing he contemplated, 
 he hastened to give it all the aid his genius or purse 
 would afford (loud applause). According to 
 Madden, on the eve of his departure his plans 
 received the warm approbation of many of the 
 leaders of the last insurrection then at Paris, and 
 Mac Nevin even gave him a proclamation calling on 
 his countrymen to renew the struggle for freedom. 
 This intended revolt was not looked upon by Eng- 
 land as a puny or chimerical attempt joined to a 
 French invasion, as we find by extracts from 
 intercepted letters taken on board an English 
 vessel, which clearly shows how much the govern- 
 ment party feared an outbreak in Ireland, and what 
 disaffection still was apparent amongst Emmet’s 
 countrymen. Lord Charles Bentinck to his brother, 
 then Governor of Madras, says, “ If Ireland be not 
 attended it will be lost ; these rascals (meaning the 
 Irish people) are as ripe as ever for rebellion.” 
 Next we have Lord Grenville to the Marquis of 
 Wellesley, u I am not certain whether the event of 
 war which our wise ministers have at last declared, 
 may not have induced them to beg you to con- 
 tinue yoir stay in India some time longer. I hope 
 nothing, however, will prevent me from having the 
 pleasure of seeing you next year, supposing at that 
 period that you have still a country to revisit .” 
 Again, from Mr. Finer to General Lake, we have 
 these words, “ The invasion which has been so long 
 the favourite project of the First Consul will 
 certainly take place.” I will now give another and 
 concluding extract from one of the East India 
 Company’s directors to Mr. Ferguson Smith : “ I 
 have heard from the first authority that if the 
 French can land in Ireland with some troops, they 
 will be immediately joined by 100,06.0 Irish.” These 
 sentiments are the exponents of the feelings of the 
 British government at this time, for the writers of 
 these letters were all more or less connected with 
 it or with individuals holding high posts. under it. 
 Then the idea of a certainty of this invasion of 
 Britain, and the advantage which the Irish would 
 take of it, on which Emmet’s design was foundled, 
 was not the opinion of him alone, it was secretly 
 acknowledged by the British government, and 
 heartily concurred in by some of the ablest leadqrs 
 of ’98 (applause). Yet it is looked upon by many 
 
23 
 
 as a day dream which originated only in the fertile 
 brain of a wild and fanciful enthusiast. Though 
 Emmet’s attempt at insurrection proved futile, the 
 ground work of his plot was well laid, though upset 
 so easily by unforseen circumstances, but it might 
 as well have turned the tide of Irish affairs another 
 way if these chance circumstances were with it. 
 The penetrating intellect and experience of 
 Napoleon caused him to say, when an exile at St. 
 Helena, “On what depends the fate of empires ! 
 If in the place of the expedition of Egypt, I had 
 made that of Ireland ; if some trifling obstacles had 
 not prevented my expedition of Boulogne, where 
 would England be to-day ?” With this expectation 
 of a renewal of hostilities between the two powers, 
 the young patriot embarked for his native soil to 
 risk his life and his fortune in that slighted cause he 
 had vowed never to forsake (applause). This under- 
 taking having the approbation of many devoted 
 leaders of, ’98 then in Paris, with a knowledge of a 
 movement being resolved upon in England by a 
 secret society formed there, and having the assurance 
 of many persons in Ireland, of rank and influence, 
 to give him their aid in every way to mature and 
 put his plans into execution, he landed in Dublin 
 in the October of- 1802, and soon placed himself in 
 communication with some of the leaders of the last 
 rebellion who had requested his immediate return. 
 There were also others behind the screen who were 
 aware of the movement and supported the cause in 
 secret ; these were not men of little character or of 
 humble rank in society, but wealthy and distin- 
 guished persons whose deliberate reflection and 
 sound judgment could be relied on. Very few of 
 the names of these, connected with Emmet, 
 have oozed out. As the Nation says, when he 
 appeared before the court, the “ seal of secrecy was 
 upon his lips, but he said, however, that there were 
 above him men before whom he bowed with respect- 
 ful deference” — two lords are supposed to be of this 
 number. This I presume vindicates the character 
 and motives of Robert Emmet, by showing the 
 disaffection and conspiracy much more general 
 than it has been believed, and that it was not con- 
 fined to a few desperate characters, but had the 
 sanction of many of the upper classes who gave their 
 assistance and anxiously looked forward to its sue- 
 
24 
 
 cess, and although Emmet was the life and soul of 
 the movement of 1803, and the principal in the 
 preparations made for it, yet he was not the original 
 designer of that movement. It was got up, says 
 Hope, one of the insurgents, to second a movement 
 of Irishmen in England under Colonel Despard. 
 Why I have dwelt upon these objects so much is, 
 that justice requires to be done to the principles of 
 the young patriot, whose proceedings were so much 
 stigmatized as weak and trifling by those who were 
 unacquainted with the true aspect of the affairs on 
 which his hopes were grounded, and the assistance 
 and advantages he reckoned on which induced him 
 to renew the struggle (loud applause). 44 When we 
 examine,” says the Nation of 1855, 44 the plan of 
 attack, of retreat, and of defence, traced by the 
 master hand of Robert Emmet, the calculations on 
 which it was based, and the accidents which caused 
 it to fail, it is impossible not to feel that the govern- 
 ment escaped by a sort of miracle.” After Robert's 
 arrival in Ireland we find him living in the house 
 of Mrs. Palmer, at Harold’s Cross, under the 
 assumed name of Hewit. It was represented that 
 he had come back only for the purpose of settling 
 his private affairs, while he freely communicated 
 with many of the exiles then on the continent. In 
 Dublin he mingled during the first few months 
 after his return with fashionable and literary 
 circles, and amongst other places visited once more 
 .the seat of Curran. Though Curran had treated 
 him coldly before he left Ireland, he could not resist 
 the attraction which still drew him to his house, his 
 daughter, that young fascinating creature, the 
 brilliant luminary that ever glowed upon his recol- 
 lections throughout his absence as warmly as on the 
 day of his departure, when he had breathed to her 
 the fond farewell of a sincere and unchanging heart 
 (applause). Emmet’s plans seem to have been 
 formed before coming to Ireland, and a renewal of 
 hostilities against France being declared by the King 
 of England in the March of 1803, he was busily 
 employed through the intervening months and that 
 of the outbreak preparing arms and ammunition for 
 the insurgents (loud applause). His principal 
 depot was in Thomas-street, where he worked un- 
 ceasingly with his colleagues, scarcely allowing him- 
 self a short repose on a hard mattrass. He had taken 
 
25 
 
 several other houses in Dublin where he also in- 
 spected the making and storing of all sorts of arms 
 and ammunition. It is admitted that his great cool- 
 ness and judgment, which it is said never forsook 
 him to the last, were apparent in the inspection of 
 these works, and that his ability in organization 
 was of the first order. A considerable fortune, 
 which was bequeathed to him by his father, was 
 exhausted in these preparations, after which Mr. 
 Long, who was one of his party, advanced £1,400. We 
 may fairly judge of this preparation by the immense 
 stores found in Thomas-street after the attempt 
 failed. There were more than 20,000 pikes found 
 in it, besides an adequate number of muskets, with 
 abundance of powder and ball. Besides the depot in 
 Thomas-street he had one inMarshalsea-lane,and an- 
 other in Patrick-street, and though there were forty 
 men employed in these depots, their preparations 
 were carried on with the utmost secrecy (applause). 
 “ The men,” says one of his staff, “ behaved with 
 the greatest prudence, none seeming to wish to 
 know more than concerned their own department, 
 each man’s duty was kept separate and secret from 
 the other.” While Emmet was making these pre- 
 parations and maturing his plan of attack, he was 
 in communication with the disaff ected in the country, 
 and had secret agents amongst the people preparing 
 them to follow up the advantage, if successful in 
 taking Dublin. There were a great number of men 
 from many places who served in the last rebellion 
 who were to come in when called on, but he relied 
 most on the Kildare men who were to come to the 
 number of 1,500 (applause). The chief points of 
 the plan of attack were these, which, if they had 
 proved successful, there is* no doubt but that there 
 would have been a general rising all over the island, 
 and it is not very difficult to divine what success 
 would follow where the oppressor was unprepared 
 and too much occupied with the thought of defending 
 his own shores from the incursions of a formidable 
 invader : Emmet and some of his most desperate 
 and trustworthy adherents were to drive into the 
 Castle yard in carriages, all well armed, and take it 
 by surprise, when a body of men were to come to 
 their assistance, while the Kildare and Wicklow 
 men were to pour into the city to join the insur- 
 gents there under the directions of confidential 
 
20 
 
 leaders. They were in two bodies to attack the 
 artillery barrack, Island Bridge ; and the Pigeon 
 House, while Emmet was to take the Viceroy and 
 his suite prisoners (applause). The success or 
 failure of this undertaking was to be made known 
 to the adjacent country by signals in as short a space 
 of time as possible. Emmet intended not to put 
 these plans into execution until they would coincide 
 with Buonaparte’s invasion of England, before 
 which he expected a great part of the troops 
 stationed in Ireland would be drawn away to oppose 
 the French landing, but an unfortunate occurrence 
 forced him to make the attempt sooner than he 
 expected, or abandon it altogether. This was the 
 explosion at the depot in Patrick-street which made 
 his scheme abortive and his failure complete. 
 This unfortunate circumstance happened on the 
 16th of July, and now the vigilance of the Castle 
 was awakened ; an Orange paper drew the 
 attention of the Government to its precarious 
 position, that of “sleeping over a mine ; 
 for what purpose but for insurrection,” it said, 
 “were these combustibles preparing.” No 
 longer there was a chance of Emmet’s move- 
 ments being kept concealed, the time had 
 come too soon, but he should act — act against 
 what ? will be the interrogatory of some astonished, 
 misanthropic, ludicrous, lubric, dissimulating- 
 faced individuals, who, as it has been said, 
 would require the victim of tyranny “when 
 his brain was on fire, and every fiend of 
 hell was let loose on his heart, he should 
 then, it seems, have placed himself before 
 his mirror, he should have taught the stream 
 of agony to flow decorously down his forehead . 
 He should have writhed with grace, and groaned 
 with melody.” Act against what? reiterate these 
 loyal followers of a Pitt or a Castlereagh. We an- 
 swer — the long tyranny and oppression of England 
 — against the massacre of thousands of innocent 
 victims — against tortures so terrible and revolting 
 as only to have had their origin in hell — against 
 the horrible crimes of murder and rapine ; tempta- 
 tion and extortion — against, 0 England blush ! if 
 there is one still left to mount to thy cheek — 
 against the wholesale violation of Erin’s fair 
 daughters — the most virtuous women in the world 
 
27 
 
 * 
 
 (applause). These were the crimes daily perpe- 
 trated that roused Emmet’s young spirit to stir up 
 the expiring embers of liberty and to awake the 
 dormant passion of death before dishonour !— these 
 were the heinous atrocities which caused him to 
 awaken in the souls of his countrymen the burning 
 recollections of gross insult with a spirit of revenge 
 or resistance, but above all he wished that they 
 would show themselves as men worthy of freedom. 
 u You are now called upon” he says to the people 
 of Ireland, “ to show the world that you are com- 
 petent to take your place among nations, that you 
 have a right to claim their recognisance of you as 
 an independant country, by the only satisfactory 
 proof you can furnish of your capability of main- 
 taining your independance — your wresting it from 
 England with your own hands.” . ... u Re- 
 
 ligious disqualifications are but one of many 
 grievances of which Ireland has to complain. Our 
 intention is to remove not that only, but ever other 
 oppression under which we labour. We fight 
 that all of us may have our country, and, that done, 
 each of us shall have our own religion” (applause). 
 Disunion and dissention he looked upon as the 
 bane of Irish prosperity, and impressed with this 
 sad idea and his ever pervading thought of justice, 
 he cries out — “ We war not against property — we 
 war against no religious sect, — we war not against 
 past. opinions or prejudices, — we war against Eng- 
 lish dominion.” He cared not for difference of 
 sect, or religion — the foundation of his benevolent 
 design was based upon union of Irish hearts in the 
 one grand cause — the liberty of Ireland (applause). 
 In the words of his friend and school, fellow he 
 might have said : — 
 
 Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side, 
 
 In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree ? 
 Shall I give up the friend I have valued and tried, 
 
 If he kneel not before the same altar with me ? 
 
 Let humanity exist in his country, let her people 
 act in concert for her independance, and let the 
 green flag float in the breeze over the grey turrets 
 of Dublin Castle and he was satisfied — the happiness 
 of liberty to his poor suffering countrymen was his 
 sole end and aim. His love of it and his hatred of 
 
28 
 
 oppression may be gleaned from his own brilliant 
 language. — “ Liberty” he says, “ is the daughter of 
 oppression, and tyranny like the poetic bird of the 
 desert, consumes itself with its own fires. We 
 have a striking example in the history of Ireland, 
 whose intellect and power have increased in direct 
 proportion with the effect made to keep her down. 
 In this sense, one may sustain that apparent 
 paradox, that the greatest evils of a nation become 
 often the instruments of its salvation. The rights 
 of man to liberty augment in direct proportion to 
 his civilization. Dykes may be opposed to a flood ; 
 but if the heaped up waters find no other issue they 
 will overwhelm the vain obstacles which a pre- 
 sumptuous master opposes to it. Our suffering, 
 whatever betide, cannot last much longer, for 
 Nature revolts against tyranny, and the chains 
 which bind us are tightened to the utmost ; it needs 
 but an effort of either the oppressor or the op- 
 pressed to break them, to restore freedom to Ire- 
 land (applause). Misery ought not to be endured 
 patiently, except when no remedy can be applied to 
 it.* Sampson who turned the mill for his oppressor, 
 buried them in the ruins of the temple when his 
 strength was restored to him. If Ireland, in. her 
 weakness, has long borne the chains of slavery, it is 
 no reason why she should continue under the yoke 
 the day she shall be able to shake it off.” This 
 day he thought had arrived, and he addressed his 
 countrymen with his call to arms : — 
 
 Brothers, rise, your country calls, 
 
 Let us gain her rights or die 
 
 In her cause ; who nobly falls, 
 
 Decked with brightest wreath shall lie 
 
 And Freedom’s genius o’er his bier 
 
 Shall place the wreath, and drop the tear. 
 
 Long by England’s power opprest, 
 
 Groaning long beneath her chain, 
 
 Ireland’s ill-used power detest, 
 
 Burst her yoke, your rights regain ; 
 
 The standard raise of liberty, 
 
 Ireland ! you shall yet be free. 
 
 Brothers, march, march on to glory, 
 
 In your country’s cause unite, 
 
29 
 
 Freedom’s blessings see before you, 
 
 Erin’s sons for freedom fight ; 
 
 England’s legions we defy, 
 
 We swear to conquer or to die. 
 
 The cause of liberty is sacred, it has had its heroes 
 and its martyrs in all ages — divine Omnipotence in 
 His wise dispensations has implanted within the 
 human breast a love of freedom, which is percep- 
 tible in the savage as well as in the most civilized, 
 but those capable of making great sacrifices to iu 
 must be of the most disinterested, unselfish nature, 
 strongest mind and most exalted in soul (applause). 
 The man who from a high rank stoops down to 
 shield the oppressed and persecuted from the 
 vengeance of tyranny and amidst all the threats 
 and terrors of an unprincipled enemy, points out 
 the right road to freedom, rushes forward for their 
 salvation while he bids them follow — this is the 
 true patriot who, if he falls, dies not in vain. In 
 conclusion, we may anticipate another impertinent 
 question which will be asked by the fag-end of a 
 pinchbeck aristocracy — that unhealthy swarm 
 generated beneath the sardonic smile of a cruel 
 tyrant, namely — what are the reasons that have 
 actuated him to insurrection ? And we answer — 
 that which Nature tells him will induce his country- 
 men to follow — that instinct which tells him God 
 never intended one nation to be the persecuted 
 slave of another — that instinct which tells him 
 when one man preys upon another that resistance 
 is but*right — that idea, which speaks of retaliation 
 on a cruel government as justifiable ; which speaks 
 of wringing justice for the poor and persecuted 
 from the arrogant and tyrannical in power, as an 
 obligation, incumbent on the superior few of man- 
 kind, to be performed, in order to uphold the rank 
 of man in the scale of created beings — that feeling, 
 which looks upon power misdirected as a dangerous 
 plaything in the hand of a child, which ought to be 
 instantly removed out of the reach of its possessor 
 (applause). That influence which speaks to* the 
 heart of man to uphold the dignity of his race 
 against inordinate haughtiness and intolerable con- 
 trol of base rulers without the fear of punishment 
 or denunciation. That innate principle which 
 speaks to the heart of man and tells it that the 
 
 * 
 
30 
 
 most sublime act of mercy he can show the world is 
 the dispossessing or restraining a tyrant — the most 
 acceptable gift of benevolence paid to a suffer- 
 ing people is to cast off their chains of slavery ; the 
 most agreeable and highest blessing except that im- 
 mediately bestowed by heaven, the raising up of 
 abject vassalage to happiness and enlightenment. 
 That motive which makes nations free by giving 
 martyrs to the cause of liberty, while asserting the 
 rights of man and combatting for that dignity and 
 freedom which the Creator gave him as a common 
 inheritance pointing out to far off generations, the 
 nobility and independance of his species, and the ex- 
 alted position which he was destined to hold upon 
 earth. That divine essence of thought which springs 
 from a celestial source, though conveyed through an 
 earthly channel, which tells man that opposition to 
 injustice is sacred justice, and that freedom is a 
 birth-right which it becomes a debasement in him not 
 to maintain. That opposition to force which becomes 
 a national evil that is a salutary and wise precaution 
 — an order from a high authority, higher than any 
 on earth — the God of nations who instils a know- 
 ledge th^t that power was originally intended to be 
 concentrated for the good and prosperity of all 
 grades, and therefore the primitive condition on 
 which he gave it should never be violated or sacri- 
 ficed to the demon of ambition or profligacy . That 
 principle of liberty which makes an honest man 
 (when the sycophant courtier or the abject slave fly 
 to the strong side of oppression and fawn on the 
 tyrant), spurn the golden temptations of misdirected 
 power, stand firm to the cause of the oppressed, and 
 while awaiting the decree of Heaven or the decision 
 of fate to be faithful through every trial 
 to the interests of his country. Yes, this 
 is the feeling, the motive, the principle, 
 the instinct, the sacrament of honour instilled by 
 the High Priest of Nature, which speaks to the heart 
 of man, tells him when national power is usurped 
 and liberty forced to abdicate, and that resistance is an 
 obligation and insurrection a duty. Such were the 
 reasons that stirred the noble soul of young Emmet 
 and thus we will dismiss him this evening with the 
 recollection of his own manly appeal ringing in our 
 ears. “ Countrymen if a cruel necessity force us to 
 retaliate, we will bury our resentment in the field of 
 
31 
 
 battle ; if we fall we will fall where we fight for our 
 country. Fully impressed with this determination, 
 of the necessity of adhering to whichpast expe- 
 rience has Put too fatally convinced us, and with the 
 justness of the cause which we have embarked in, we 
 make our final and solemn appeal to the sword, and 
 as the cause of Ireland deserves to prosper, may God 
 give us the victory.’* 
 
 SECOND LECTURE. 
 
 On the evening of the 19th inst., Mr. G. H. Kirk 
 resumed in the Mayoralty Rooms, his lectures on the 
 life and times of Emmet. On coming forward to 
 the rostrum Mr. Kirk was welcomed with warm 
 plaudits. Fte said : — 
 
 Let tyrants sneer, and sycophants rail, yet, 
 disguise ye as we may, still slavery thou art a 
 bitter draught, while patriotism thy avowed and 
 deadly enemy is one of the brightest and fairest 
 flowers that heaven has sent to blossom and bear 
 fruit upon earth. In the human breast alone this 
 plant receives its nourishment, and if that nutri- 
 ment is not drawn from an honest heart, no longer 
 it flourishes, but sickens and dies. The soil in 
 which this fair flower grows in its most beautiful 
 form, is ever found to contain the seeds, and give 
 forth the germs of the noblest and rarest qualities 
 of nature (applause). Patriotism ! — what a noble 
 sentiment is contained in this word. It embraces a 
 grand idea of all that is beautiful in philanthropy, 
 and all that is brilliant in liberty ; it brings within 
 minute focus, the instinct of love, the boundlessness 
 of benevolence, the attractiveness of home and 
 country, and the despised dangers and the unceasing 
 watchings of a great and mighty soul in the cause 
 of humanity even through the severest ordeals . The 
 synonyme of love and unselfishness ; no thing of 
 time or native of any particular spot ; living 
 through all ages and illumining the pages of many 
 a clime since nations were first formed. Love of 
 home is an instinct planted m the human breast by 
 the God of Nature, Though that human being 
 may in after years become a homeless wanderer, 
 though that human being may become a rich 
 cosmopolitan, yet, there is ever found in the breast 
 of that being, a secret magnetic attractiveness to 
 
32 
 
 the place of his nativity ; there are youth- 
 ful scenes and incidents connected with 
 
 that spot, which will be ever found as 
 he nears that home, • even after years of 
 estrangement, to come warm over his imagination, 
 until in the felicity or sorrow, of the spell wrought 
 moment he will exclaim — “ ah ! go where we will, 
 yet, the quiet happy home of youth is still dearest 
 pf air— 
 
 “ There is a land, of every land the pride, 
 
 Beloved by heaven o’er all the world beside ; 
 
 Where brighter suns dispense serener light, 
 
 And milder moons emparadise the night ; 
 
 © © © © © © 
 
 Where shall that land, that spot of earth be 
 found ? 
 
 Art thou a man ? — a patriot ?— dook around ; 
 
 O, thou shalt find, howe’er thy footsteps roam, 
 
 That land thy country, and that spot thy 
 home !” - 
 
 This love of home, when found with the lowest, 
 the least worthy, or the least nationalised of the 
 human family, what must it not be when found to 
 glow in a great and good man’s bosom — the fullest 
 extent of the word is then realized. It is not alone 
 a selfish or a local feeling that begets it — no ! 
 philanthropy and duty step in, to assist in its for- 
 mation, and it is beau tif idly moulded for the im- 
 provement and liberty of the human race — its 
 object, the happiness of man and the bringing him 
 a nearer likeness to his Creator by moral and in- 
 tellectual perfection. The patriot, no matter what 
 his clime, his colour, his creed, who has elevated, 
 the dignity of his race and has added to the pror 
 sperity and peace of the land that gave him birth — 
 that man must be looked upon as a benefactor to 
 humanity (applause). But he that has fallen while 
 pointing the way to freedom’s goal, though he has 
 to all appearance achieved nothing, though he 
 seems to have tightened the chain of slavery more 
 firmly round his kinsmen and plunged his native 
 land deeper into the loathsome night of bondage, 
 yet, raise the ved from the secret springs of nations 
 and you will find that he has not fallen in vain. 
 No ! that martyr of liberty awakens virtues in many 
 
33 
 
 a bosom that otherwise would have slumbered, 
 flings the dark shadow of selfishness from many a 
 soul, while his name acts as a spell- word in times 
 far beyond those he lives or moves in. And such a 
 one was he whom we will again bring before 
 you. Selfishness was foreign to him, philan- 
 thropic and domestic love were sacred to 
 him. affection for home and country was 
 blissful to him, admiration for virtue and 
 honour was congenial to him, but fear or injustice 
 were unknown to him (applause). This combination 
 of the better qualities of man raises up in the hearts 
 of a great number of his countrymen, even in the 
 lowly and unlettered peasants of the bogs of that 
 fair land, so dear to him, a virtuous spirit of true 
 patriotism that can never be found shining out so 
 pure where the blood of the patriot martyr has not 
 been shed in the cause of freedom ; and his name 
 has become a watchword to a galaxy of noble youths, 
 brave and ardent, and noble as himself, who 
 followed in the path he trod forty five years after 
 he dangled like a dog or a murderer from the 
 hideous scaffold of an unprincipled tyrant (applause). 
 The name of Emmet is still dear to his countrymen ; 
 even the labourer relates his sorrowful tale to his 
 children as they sit round his turf fire on a winter’s 
 evening, his nobleness of soul fn the cause of f ather- 
 land, impressing their young hearts with a 
 patriotic love of the land that gave them birth. 
 Switzerland had her Tell, who threw off the iron 
 yoke of despotism, but Ireland had her Emmet, 
 who, though he fell in the same undertaking, with- 
 out accomplishing it, is nevertheless as dear to the 
 hearts of her people (loud applanse) . “ Many a lost 
 
 cause,” as Miss Julia Ka^anagh has said “ is nobler 
 than the victorious one.” This saying has proved 
 itself but too true, in more instances than that of 
 the conquered languages of Provence, and amongst 
 them none shine out more gloriously than that of 
 Robert Emmet. His young life was quenched in a 
 blood-stained arid premature grave by a merciless 
 and victorious tyrant ; but the strength of the one 
 is mouldering like an old pile whose foundations had 
 been giving way from time to time before the rude 
 shocks of ages and its own overpowering weight ; 
 while the name and the cause of the other 
 have lived beyond the tomb, and seem to be but 
 
34 
 
 gathering the blossoms of immortality from the 
 extended fields of Time (cheer). Censnrers of his 
 conduct were numerous and are still so, but who 
 has escaped censure ? The patriot of Poland has 
 fallen under its mildewing breath, although — 
 “ Freedom shrieked when Kosciusco fell,” So has 
 that brave little band, led by Myles O’Reilly, who 
 fought under the burning sun of Italy as only 
 Irishmen can fight. But Emmet’s insurrection, 
 though it had but one in the history of nations as 
 a precursor or precedent, yet, that one came to a 
 successful issue. This example, it must have been, 
 that made him conceive his plan of attack, for it 
 was formed in the same manner though the issue 
 was different. In 1640, Portugal was delivered from 
 the yoke of Spain by forty determined men surpris- 
 ing the castle of Lisbon, and seizing the vice queen 
 and the Spanish authorities. This coup de main , 
 so bravely carried out, was followed by the im- 
 mediate rising of the people, who soon freed their 
 native land. But the Portuguese were more for- 
 tunate than the Irish ; Emmet’s insurrection was a 
 failure, but not from any moral or physical de- 
 ficiency of courage in its leader. And now, as we 
 look back through the haze of some sixty five 
 years, can we not reconcile it to our minds that that 
 boyish undertaking might have proved successful, 
 and if so, will we not immediately exclaim — then at 
 such a period was it not worth the trial ? Yes, we 
 will reiterate, it was ; any attempt, where there 
 was such hope of success, even though some noble 
 spirits were to fall in a holy cause was worth the 
 trial. If Emmet brought about the redemption of 
 his native land, what sufferings and horrors would 
 he not have saved its people from ever since (hear, 
 hear). Look upon our two million countrymen 
 expatriated, or coffinless paupers’ graves, the 
 victims of starvation ; or their dead bodies, thrown 
 from the overcrowded emigrant ship, until at last, 
 their bones on the bottom of the ocean have made 
 a continued track from their native shore to the 
 far west, the region of their adopted home ; while 
 the brutal English sailor, (as Vere Foster, our Irish 
 Howard, can so fully attest,) forcibly violated 
 their daughters’ chastity and then cast them.away 
 upon a far land, without friends or kindred, to 
 earn the bread of sin. The three dearest things to 
 
35 
 
 us, O fellow kinsmen ! the three dearest things to 
 the Irish peasant were assailed — his love of home, 
 his love of the virtue of its daughters, and the love 
 of the religion of his forefathers, which not earth , 
 nor hell, could induce him to abjure (cheers). If 
 Emriiet had the slightest chance of averting such 
 dreadful catastrophes — then I say— was not his 
 attempt worth the trial ? I, for one, am ready to 
 endorse it, with a plain, honest yes (cheers). Men 
 may have their faith in moral force, in parliament- 
 ary policy, or alien imperialism ; I will not quarrel 
 with them for this— men may be very good, 
 very honest Irishmen, and hold this frail 
 doctrine of (I can scarcely call it) nationality ; but 
 I will ever uphold, that war, and the shedding of 
 blood is sometimes holy, and that it unfolds a 
 national cause and a national will, self reliance, and 
 aspirations, and bright deeds, that bring earthly 
 beings nearer resemblances of spiritual ones— if 
 even, to the destroying angel bending the proud 
 will of a Pharaoh to release a captive people from 
 the bonds of ages. A learned divine, in speaking 
 of war, has said, u Thus it is in the order of Divine 
 Providence, that peace should be secured by war, 
 and joy be the reward of tribulations.” We will 
 even add to this sentiment, that of John Mitchell’s, 
 that war was as necessary for the good of earth, as 
 thunder and lightning were for to purify the air.” 
 We do not endorse this in the general sense, but 
 spurn for the sterner creed the flimsy idea of 
 victory by moral opposition or not all. The re- 
 generation of a country is even cheaply purchased 
 by the fall of many of her children. A deluge of 
 blood is often the price pf freedom, and it is worth 
 it. The flame of independance may be best fed 
 by the blood of the patriot occasionally spilt upon 
 its altar., Yes, the spilling of blood is sometimes a 
 necessary evil — while it punishes for the crime of 
 foul play and teaches the virtue of martial courage ; 
 it manifests that the appeal to the sword is the 
 best argument that can be adduced to a tyrant and 
 the surest to make him quail. Shakespeare puts 
 into the mouth of Henry Y. these memorable 
 words : — “ Now, if these men have defeated and 
 outrun native punishment, though they can out- 
 strip men, they have no wings to fly from G-od ; 
 war is his beadle ; war is his vengeance !*’ There 
 
36 
 
 is no doubt it often brings up to the surface of 
 society the worst passions and animal propensities 
 of a people, but when the stormy tide has flowed 
 and seethed to its utmost or farthest limits, it 
 ebbs slowly back, and like the Nile, while retreating 
 to its farther boundary, after having overflowed the 
 adjacent country, leaving a rich fertilizing substance 
 that makes the people rejoice with an abundant 
 harvest, so it raises, in the struggles and en- 
 thusiasm of manliness, for the salvation of a people, 
 the redemption of a country’s violated freedom 
 (applause). To reap this abundant harvest of 
 nationality and self-reliance is the most apparent 
 evidence of its good ; for the success, if not the 
 best, is the fullest justification for the shedding of 
 blood. u War,” it has been said, “ is the game in 
 which kings or governments seldom win ; the peo- 
 ple never. . . To be defended is almost as great 
 
 an evil as to be attacked ; and the common people 
 have often found the shield of the protector to be 
 no less oppressive than the sword of an invader.” 
 This is to a great extent, I am sorry to say, often 
 too true, but that the people are always the losers 
 in war, is certainly to state a paradox that I cannot 
 subscribe to. History informs us in many instances 
 of the contrary. The apostles of freedom have 
 often launched their noble and fearless bark of 
 liberty upon the stormy breakers of war’s troubled 
 waters, with a full hope and faith in the doctrine 
 of blood, until they steered their regenerated 
 countrymen to a bright haven of peace, prosperity, 
 and happiness, where anchored, their bark rested 
 in security, until the effeminacy of wealth or the 
 prostration of manly energy set it once more adrift 
 over the stagnant ocean of slavery without oar or 
 helm. And even if these apostles of liberty fall, 
 the seed is sown that will fructify and bear fruit. 
 u If the spring puts forth no blossoms, in the 
 summer there will be no beauty ; and in the autumn 
 no fruit thus, if the young regenerating spirit 
 is not baptised in blood, the sword cannot ac- 
 complish reform, and it will yield no harvest : — 
 
 The tribune’s tongue and poet’s pen 
 
 May sow the seed in prostrate men ; 
 
 But ’tis the soldier’s sword alone 
 
 Can reap the crop so boldly sown. 
 
37 
 
 Our doctrine has been, and ever shall be, that 
 when a people are oppressed a manly appeal to 
 the sword is laudable, and that the growth of a 
 nation may be best fertilized even by the blood of 
 its patriot-martyrs : — 
 
 What checks the knave ? 
 
 The sword ! 
 
 What smites to save ? 
 
 The sword ! 
 
 What wreaks the wrong 
 Unpunished long, 
 
 At last upon the guilty strong ? 
 
 The sword ? 
 
 Then cease thy proud task never, 
 
 While rests a link to sever, 
 
 Guard of the free, 
 
 We’ll cherish thee, 
 
 And keep thee bright for ever ! 
 
 Having set out with such principles as a preamble, 
 which I fancy were exactly those of Robert Emmet, 
 I will now endeavour to trace him from the com- 
 mencement of the outbreak of 1803, to the close of 
 his bright, brief, and glorious career. The 23rd of 
 July was fixed for the outbreak, seven days after 
 the explosion took place. Emmet thought to have 
 delayed the rising until the month of August, when 
 he expected the invasion of England to take place, 
 but there being signs publicly shown of dissatisfac- 
 tion, which could not, he thought, but awaken the 
 suspicions of government, and that the explosion of 
 one of his depots in Patrick-street would now 
 prove these suspicions well grounded, he determined 
 to delay his : project no longer and to make the 
 attempt as soon as possible before his plans would be 
 discovered, for all his chance lay in secrecy, a sur- 
 prise by a grand coup de main being absolutely 
 necessary for his success. Unfortunately, on the 
 morning of action the leaders were found to be of 
 different opinions ; Emmet and Allen were for the 
 immediate rising, others were for a delay until 
 some time later, but this, Emmet knew, was to 
 abandon the attempt altogether. Several discussions 
 and consultations took place during the day at Mr. 
 Long’s, in Crow-street, in the depot in Thomas- 
 street, at Mr. Allen’s in College Green, where, after a 
 
38 
 
 great discrepancy of opinion, many, whose voices were 
 raised for a postponement of the rising, withdrew 
 from the project altogether. While this vacillation 
 and tergiversation was going on in the. city among 
 the leaders, there were treachery and cowardice 
 going on in other quarters ; the messenger sent to 
 the brave O’Dwyer, the outlaw of the Wicklow 
 mountains, who was in readiness, expecting the 
 summons to march with his hardy mountaineers on 
 Dublin, this man betrayed the trust reposed in him 
 and went no farther than Rathfarnham. The 
 Kildare men had arrived early in the afternoon, 
 but were met evidently by a traitor, who informed 
 them that it was determined to abandon the attack 
 for some time longer, and these men, on this infor- 
 mation, took their departure from Canal Harbour 
 at five o’clock in the evening. At. the Broadstone* 
 
 there were assembled a large number of men, who 
 watched for the signal rocket, which was to apprize 
 them of the moment for action : this signal they 
 watched for in vain, for it was not given. About 
 three hundred Wexford men, who assembled on the 
 Coal Quay, were on the spot up to a late hour in the 
 evening* and held themselves in readiness for the 
 part allotted to them, but received no commands. 
 Even through Dublin it was given out by some 
 cowardly traitor that the rising was postponed 
 until the following Wednesday, so that the time of 
 assembly being from six till nine, when the final 
 moment arrived Emmet found, instead of two 
 thousand men there were only about eighty 
 assembled for the enterprise, besides, there was 
 division amongst the leaders, there was treachery 
 working its secret mission ; there were a series of 
 blunders and confusion in the depots ; there was 
 misgiving and confusion among many of the 
 intelligent, and a want of confidence quickly spread- 
 ing among the people ; joined with this the govern- 
 ment was made aware of the intended rising. Many 
 of the leaders, instead of being at their different 
 posts, were assembled at Mr. Hevey’s, in Thomas 
 Court, where there was no lack of refreshment, 
 while crowds of the country people were engaged 
 in drinking and smoking, and jesting in the best 
 possible humour ; “ cracking jokes,” says Madden, 
 “and rallying one another, as if the business they 
 were about to enter on was a party of pleasure.’* 
 
39 
 
 This was not the way the Americans gained their 
 independance a few years before ! No ! while the 
 English columns came on with cheers, they set 
 their teeth, remembered the insults and injuries 
 received, and calmly awaited behind their breast- 
 works in the most solemn silence — immoveable as 
 statues — till their oppressors were within their reach 
 and then rushed on them like tigers (loiid applause) . 
 While Emmet was reflecting on these series of 
 misfortunes, as the moment for action was drawing 
 nigh, Michael Quigley rushed into the depot and 
 cried out that all was lost, for the army was coming 
 upon them ; an alarm which turned out afterwards 
 to be perfectly groundless. On this intimation the 
 young rebel determined to head his men imme- 
 diately, and rise or fall with those he had promised 
 to lead either to death or victory. He gave his 
 orders in a tone of firmness and self possession ; 
 put on his uniform, and while the distribution of 
 arms was going on, sent up a single rocket. In his 
 national and rebel costume of emerald green, with 
 two pistols in his belt, he was seen to advance along 
 Thomas-street, at the head of about eighty men, 
 and to go in the direction of the market place. 
 These unfortunate men, who were in a great 
 measure under the influence of drink, were joined 
 on their way by, it is thought, about as many more ; 
 but Emmet found it impossible to make them keep 
 any regularity. The ranks of this disorderly 
 multitude were evidently separated, and the great 
 division and irregularity causing a great distance 
 between the van and the rear. Thus, the unfortu- 
 nate young leader proceeded, with a heavy heart, 
 to attack the castle ; at the same time fully im- 
 pressed with the heavy responsibility and danger 
 incurred, by leading an undisciplined and disorderly 
 multitude to battle. When they arrived near the 
 spot where it was intended to muster in full force 
 before their prowess would be tried, it was found 
 that their numbers had decreased to an amazing 
 amount and that it was impossible to restore order. 
 In the midst of this tumult, while Emmet and some 
 of his officers, who determined to follow his fortunes, 
 tried to quell insubordination, a party of police, 
 with their commander, Mr. Edward Wilson, at their 
 head, were observed coming against the insurgents. 
 “ Shall I fire ?” said one of the chiefs, named Malachy, 
 
40 
 
 to Robert Emmet. “No,” said he, turning the 
 muzzle of his gun aside, “ wait till we are attacked 
 first — do not shed blood without necessity.” How 
 little these sentiments were dwelt upon afterwards 
 by his murderers. News reached him at this 
 critical juncture that Lord Kil warden’s carriage had 
 been attacked in Thomas-street by a party of the 
 insurgents ; Emmet hastily retraced his steps to 
 attempt to save him from the fury of the mob, but 
 he arrived too late, for that kind and humane 
 judge had been ruthlessly murdered, through the 
 means of some scoundrels who had mingled with 
 the rebels for plunder and rapine, and who 
 caused, as one of the insurgents stated, the assassi- 
 nation of Kilwarden in private revenge for an 
 imaginary wrong. When Robert had come up his 
 heart sickened at the sight, and his soul seemed to 
 recoil to its farthest recesses as shuddering with 
 horror he surveyed the scene of blood. But the 
 condition of the young daughter of that benevolent 
 victim of an infuriated mob, made more ferocious 
 by the fumes of alcohol, aroused his slumbering 
 senses, and he caught her fainting in his arms and 
 bore her to a place of safety (applause). This 
 wanton act, it is said, decided the fate of the day. 
 Emmet rejoined his men, but no longer buoyed up 
 with that hope of success which never before for- 
 sook him. “Fortune,” says Lord Cloncurry, “from 
 the outset was against him, but discourage- 
 ment and fear were foreign to his nature. He now 
 saw that any further effort on his part was useless, 
 that there was no prospect of any success in con- 
 tinuing the attempt ; that it was impossible to re- 
 store order, and now the excess of plunder being 
 aggravated into useless and wanton murder, it 
 sickened his soul, and for the first time he hesitated 
 in his bold design, and after a short interval 
 abandoned the undertaking as hopeless. The delay 
 caused by the murder of Lord Kilwarden gave time 
 for the Viceregal government to receive intelligence 
 of how matters stood and to prepare for the assault. 
 The gates were closed and the soldiers were drawn 
 out in readiness for an attack. Thus, any attempt 
 at surprise being out of the question, an advantage 
 which the fate of the day depended on, Emmet and 
 a few of the leaders who were around him retired 
 from the scene in heartfelt disgust. In the midst 
 
41 
 
 of this insubordination and turmoil the military 
 ventured to make their appearance, and immediately 
 commenced to fire upon the people, who fled in the 
 utmost confusion and precipitancy, and in about 
 an hour’s time they swept the streets of the dis- 
 ordered and intoxicated rabble. At the Coombe, where 
 Colonel Brown and the Messrs. Edmeston and 
 Parker were killed, there had been a sharp attack 
 made by the insurgents, and also on the 
 Mansion House, which was taken by them 
 and robbed of its arms ; but soon 
 
 these points were given up and the rout became 
 general. Accompanied by Dowdall and Malachy, 
 two of his faithful officers, the unhappy Emmet re- 
 tired under the shades of that unfortunate night to 
 the house of Anne Devlin, one of as patriotic and 
 as noble of soul as ever adorned the green bosom of 
 fair Erin (applause). This young woman was the 
 niece of one of Ireland’s boldest and most intrepid 
 rebels, and in the service or her country she was 
 herself no unimportant personage, When she 
 beheld Emmet,, who sought for refuge until he 
 would be able to fly to the mountains, she cried out, 
 u Unhappy man, you excite the people to revolt 
 and then you abandon them to which he replied, 
 “ Do not reproach me, my good friend, if we have 
 done nothing, it is their fault not mine.” Though 
 she could so severely rebuke Emmet thus, in her 
 excitement and ignorance of the events of the day, 
 yet, time proved that noble woman’s attachment 
 and devotedness to the young rebel, as well as her 
 heroism and love of her country’s cause (applause). 
 There is a maxim which has gone forth almost as a 
 universal one, which may be arrayed against Emmet, 
 in his condemnation of attempting such a chance 
 undertaking, which is — that, “ attempts at reform 
 when they fail, strengthen despotism ; as he that 
 struggles, tightens the cords he does not succeed in 
 breaking.” Now this not unfrequently is untrue, 
 and in Ireland we have many examples. It has 
 been said of her by good general as Well as clever 
 abstract reasoners, that her music never would have 
 attained that beauty and excellence, which makes 
 it unrivalled, were it not for the persecution of her 
 bards; and that her faith never would have 
 been preserved so purely and universally, 
 only for the number of her martyrs sacrificed for it 
 
42 
 
 by a cruel tyranny. May we not also say, that this 
 has preserved the patriotism of her people and given 
 them higher aspirations in her trampled cause : the 
 man, whose grandfather has bled in ’98, if (such 
 there be amongst you to night, though the issue 
 was unfortunate ; though he has been picketted ; 
 though he has had on the pitch cap, or borne the 
 torture of the triangle ; and eventually, though he 
 has died by the yeoman’s bayonet, or was hung op- 
 posite his father’s door, yet, fond memory looking 
 back on the sad event, does not the life-blood, as it 
 thrills to the inmost ventricle of the heart, throb 
 with a more hallowed — a more devoted pulse — to 
 the cause of your country ; and, do ye not find 
 springing up to the mind’s inspiration, a greater de- 
 termination to throw off the yoke of despotism, 
 which was the cause of that atrocious 
 wrong, perpetrated on the dearest members of your 
 family ? (applause). Emmet now fled to the fast- 
 ness of the Wicklow mountains, where he was 
 joined by a number of the conspirators, and he 
 found the hardy mountaineers under their loved 
 fearless chieftain, O’Dwyer, ready to put their con- 
 templated attack on the chief towns there, into im- 
 mediate execution. The young outlaw determined 
 to prevent this attempt, which he considered as 
 hopeless and which would involve too much blood. 
 This, to do the young enthusiast justice, was what 
 he abhorred ; the shedding of blood he wished to 
 avoid if possible, and it must be a sorry intellect 
 that will not allow him this virtuous and humane 
 quality. He “ would have given it,” as he said him- 
 self, (meaning the outbreak in Dublin), “ the re- 
 spectability of insurrection, but he did not wish 
 uselessly to shed blood.” He was but a very short 
 time a wanderer among the hills, when he was put 
 in a position to show to the world that he was no 
 advocate for such wild measures, or the sacrifice of 
 human life, where he considered the struggle hope- 
 less and that the interest of his country was far 
 dearer to him than fame. On the evening of the 
 arrival in Wicklow of the conspirators of the 
 Capital, they were joined by the mountain leaders, 
 and a meeting was convened that night in a lonely 
 spot in the fastness of their mountains. In this 
 council, it was the general opinion that hostilities 
 should be immediately carried on in the country, 
 
43 
 
 and that the towns of Wicklow, Arklow, and some 
 others, should be attacked the following day. To 
 these propositions Emmet listened in silence, but he 
 had determined never to give his sanction to such 
 bold measures ; the time was past, he thought, for 
 making a further attempt ; and renewing the 
 struggle would not be for the benefit of his unfor- 
 tunate country : therefore, when his friends had 
 done speaking he thus addressed them : — u Our 
 first attempt haying failed, every new effort, on our 
 part, would henceforth be useless. Our foes are 
 armed — our friends discouraged — our only hope is 
 in the future — let us wait it with patience. Our 
 cause is just : and justice will triumph sooner or 
 later. Let us not compromise it by rash undertak- 
 ings. No doubt we might, in forty-eight hours, 
 kindle the flames of rebellion all over Ireland ; but 
 what is our object? To free our country. I be- 
 lieve I serve her interests better in refusing to raise 
 my name on the ruins of thousands of our fellow- 
 countrymen, thus to give tyrants a pretext for add- 
 ing yet more to the weight of our chains. Should 
 the voice of calumny, in future times, make my 
 memory responsible for the bloodshed last night, 
 some one, I hope, will be found to remember that 
 it was in my power to change that revolt of a day 
 into a rebellion, and that I refused to do so. In in- 
 surrection all depends upon the first blow ; and we 
 have missed. Our plan was an excellent one ; it 
 failed, owing to circumstances beyond our control, 
 and impossible to foresee. We have now but to hide 
 or retreat. The most profound secrecy has presided 
 at all our plans and our acts ; our losses are incon- 
 siderable ; let us allow the government to relapse into 
 false security, unacquainted with the danger that 
 threatened it, and the extent of our resources ; some 
 day or other, and perhaps sooner than we ima- 
 gine, it will give us an opportunity of attacking it 
 with more success. Our enterprise will not have 
 been useless, if it has only proved to us that thou- 
 sands of men may be in possession of so important 
 a secret, without one traitor being found among 
 them. Let me recommend you, my friends, to act 
 in this emergency with that prudence which is re- 
 quisite in men devoted to the greatest of causes — • 
 
 the deliverance of their country. Be circumspect, 
 be silent, and give no grounds for suspicion to your 
 
 ' 
 
44 
 
 foes. Over my future, fate has thrown the impene- 
 trable veil which mortal eye cannot see through. 
 Should I succeed in evading the pursuit of my ene- 
 mies, be assured that you shall see me again, one 
 day, in arms for the cause of Ireland. While there 
 is a Robert Emmet in existence the government will 
 not be in safety in this country. But if it be my 
 fate to die on the scaffold do not be daunted by my 
 example. Let no cowards prevent you from ap- 
 pealing to arms, again and again, until the day when 
 you shall have reconquered your rights 
 and the independance of your country. Remember 
 yourselves, and make your children remember, that, 
 had fate been favourable to me, if I had only a few 
 thousand men and a few days before me, I should 
 have overturned the foundations of despotism, and 
 given freedom to Ireland. Let us now part, 
 gentlemen, and let each look to his own safety. I 
 shall do the best I can to quit the country in the 
 hope of again meeting you under happier auspices.” 
 Robert in speaking betrayed signs of great emotion, 
 and his words deeply affected his hearers who 
 adopted his advice ; and when he came to take his 
 farewell of those around him, many were seen to 
 weep, while the deep sorrow which the young 
 patriot felt was quite apparent to all in spite of his 
 exertions to conceal it. The meeting then began 
 to disperse in two’s and three’s. Emmet’s friends at 
 their final separation pressed him to escape to the 
 continent, and pointed out to him the • immediate 
 necessity of trying to get there ; besides, there were 
 at the time fishing smacks in the bay, which belonged 
 to the rebels, and one of them could convey him in 
 a short time to the coast of France before suspicion 
 would be awakened. This course he most 
 peremptorily refused, he could not, he said, leave 
 his native home, perhaps for ever, without taking 
 his farewell of the object of his tenderest, purest 
 passion- -the girl he adored, the sun he worshipped, 
 whdse happiness was dearer to him than life, or any 
 other sublunary consideration except that of the 
 welfare of his country. — No ! he could not depart 
 without seeing her again, and for this purpose he 
 was resolved to brave the greatest danger before he 
 fled to another land. In order to obtain this 
 interview he came back to Dublin, and once more 
 took up his lodgings under an assumed name, in the 
 
45 
 
 house of Mrs; Palmer, Harold’s Cross ; where he 
 could secretly correspond with Miss Curran, and 
 where he expected to see her pass on her road to 
 and from Dublin and Rathfarnham, her father ’p 
 country residence. Putting this determination into 
 execution proved an unfortunate occurrence to 
 poor Emmet, for he was arrested by Major Sirr, on 
 the 25th of August, in his place of concealment, at 
 about seven o’clock in the evening. Emmet who 
 was at dinner when the Major entered, was warned 
 by the grand-daughter of Mrs. Palmer, and he 
 immediately attempted his escape by a back door, 
 that opened into the garden, but he was seen, and 
 one of the guards, placed to watch the house, 
 followed by the Major’s directions and arrested him, 
 after wounding him in the shoulder by a pistol 
 shot. When the Major came up, the prisoner was 
 engaged in staunching his wound, and on his 
 apologising for the rough manner with which he 
 was obliged to treat him, he merely answered, “ All 
 is fair in war,” An unfinished letter which he had 
 been writing to the government as an inducement 
 to them to refrain from the severity which they had 
 adopted, lay upon a chair, and his suit of green was 
 placed upon his bed. The noise and bustle during 
 his capture drew a crowd about the house, through 
 which, when brought forth by the Major and his 
 attendants, he walked with a lofty deportment, 
 showing no symptoms of agitation or fear, says an 
 eye-witness, u but that calm and dignified 
 demeanour which at all times characterised that truly 
 great and extraordinary young man.” At the 
 Castle he was recognised by one, who had been 
 a fellow -student at Trinity College, and now, find- 
 ing any further concealment of his proper name 
 useless, he gave it to the authorities. At this point, 
 were there space sufficient within our prescribed 
 limits, we would more than slightly glance upon a 
 name, which we introduce once more, with feel- 
 ings of the deepest sympathy — a name which holds 
 a prominent place in the life and times of Robert 
 Emmet — that of Anne Devlin (applause). It may 
 be vaunted that real patriotism and bravery, and 
 heroic resistance of torture, belong exclusively to 
 the rougher sex ; but here is Irish bravery, Irish 
 patriotism, and a bosom secret, kept beneath all the 
 tortures that the cruelty of England could devise. — - 
 
46 
 
 Yes, I say, bravery, love of fatherland, heroism, and 
 nobleness of soul, unsurpassed even in the annals of 
 nations— and by whom ? by a woman ! — >and by one 
 of obscure origin and lowly birth (applause). Poor 
 Anne Devlin, who could upbraid Emmet in the 
 most bitter terms when she thought he had forsaken 
 the people, could afterwards withstand the tempta- 
 tion of a large reward for information regarding hie 
 place of concealment, and with a look of indigna- 
 tion and contempt, could exclaim— “ What ! I ac- 
 cept the price of Master Robert’s blood.” She was 
 pierced with bayonets until she was almost covered 
 with blood — she was put to the torture, yet she 
 cried out, “I will divulge nothing — you may 
 murder ’me, but my lips are sealed.” They then 
 half hung her, amid the merriment and savage joy 
 of the inhuman and brutal soldiery. She was cut 
 down when insensible and brought back in a state 
 of unconsciousness to prison, where she was allowed 
 to languish for some years, and when she was re- 
 leased from bondage, it was only to come forth as a 
 cripple. And forty years after her young master 
 was laid in his premature grave, we find this devoted 
 woman living in an obscure lane in Dublin, weak 
 and old, and in great poverty, earning a miserable 
 pittance with the greatest difficulty and hard labour. 
 Ireland has certainly been ungenerous to many of 
 her great characters, not, I am sure, from a 
 meagreness of heart, but from an apathy or want of 
 thought which has grown upon her in the hands of 
 the stranger (hear). Here is one of her noblest 
 children, and a woman too, a Joan of Arc in 
 spirit, after sacrificing everything to a noble cause, 
 allowed to drag out her last days in squalid wretch- 
 edness and hard labour (hear, hear). We have 
 another picture in poor Hogan, our great and un- 
 fortunate artist, who was obliged to borrow thirty 
 sovereigns from the master of the accomplished 
 Jemmy O’Brien — the double-dealing and perfidious 
 Major Sirr (hear). O, Ireland ! how deeply have 
 thy chains sunk into thy heart, when thou can’st 
 allow these things to pass to thy eternal shame ; 
 what sluggishness and apathy has come over thee, 
 when thou art unable to raise a cenotaph to the 
 memory of thy beloved Carolan, while you almost 
 forget where his ashes lie, without the rudest in- 
 scription over them. Thy sister Scotland would 
 
47 
 
 not act in this way ! Does she forget her Wallace 
 or her Burns ? (hear, and applause). A short time 
 after Robert Emmet was sent to prison he wrote 
 to the amiable and devoted Miss Curran. 
 
 The letter was to be conveyed to her 
 by the jailor, whom he awarded all the 
 money that still remained in his purse as* a 
 recompense for the undertaking, but instead of 
 bringing it to Miss Curran, he conveyed it to the 
 hands of the Attorney General. This circumstance 
 was the means of proving, if there was any proof 
 wanting, his nobleness and greatness of dis- 
 position. In this letter, he introduced politics as 
 well as love, and fearing to compromise in the 
 slightest degree one in whom his affections were 
 centred, he chose to die without defence or ex- 
 culpation, rather than that she should suffer a 
 moment’s unnecessary pain or trouble. For this 
 purpose he wrote to the Privy Council, being aware 
 how much they dreaded the effects of his eloquence 
 in the dock, or on the scaffold ; and said, if they 
 would promise to give up the letter and cause no 
 annoyance to the young lady’s family, whom he 
 said, he had wronged, that he would not only plead 
 guilty and make no defence at his trial, but that 
 he would refrain from addressing the people on the 
 scaffold ; but if they did not comply with his re- 
 quest, he would on the contrary, speak to the 
 people, in his best, strongest, and most eloquent 
 style and in the most determined manner (cheers). 
 
 But Curran, who all his life had opposed the 
 government in the quality of an advocate or a 
 member of the House of Commons, had the morti- 
 fication, the very next day, of having his residence 
 searched, and also of having to appear in person 
 before the privy council, with suspicion cast upon 
 his name. Besides, there were letters from Robert 
 Emmet found in his daughter’s room, which gave 
 him to understand, for the first time, the true 
 position and attachment of both. Curran was of an 
 inflexible and haughty disposition, and these series 
 of aggravations were too much for him ; it is said 
 that he treated his daughter with the greatest 
 severity, and that she soon became an outcast from 
 his house. The Attorney General, who had to 
 visit them in discharge of his duties, is said to have 
 acted on that occasion more as an intercessor for 
 
48 
 
 the unfortunate daughter with that stern father, 
 than as one come to act stringently on the part of 
 the government. With the whole of this unfortu- 
 nate occurrence before the tortured mind of the 
 young patriot, he sat down and wrote an apologetic 
 letter to the infuriated father, taking the fault all 
 on his own shoulders, and excusing the young girl’s 
 conduct, and pleading her innocence in the most 
 delicate manner, which he thought might 
 make the father relent of his harshness 
 and cause him for the future to treat 
 her with more kindness (loud applause) . — 
 
 * But this, I believe, had not the desired effect, as it 
 is asserted, she was an outcast ever after from her 
 paternal roof, until death came to release her from 
 her sorrows. From all we can learn of the young 
 lady’s character, she was well worthy of Robert 
 Emmet’s love ; Madden says— “ From all that I 
 have been able to learn of this young lady, she was 
 one of the gentlest, the most amiable, the simplest- 
 minded, the freest from affectation, the most patient, 
 the least wilful of woman kind, and yet there was 
 no sacrifice she was not capable of making for the 
 man she loved — there was no suffering she was not 
 prepared to endure for his sake. Under all re- 
 straints, in all the trying circumstances she was 
 placed in, it would seem that her fugitive, her im- 
 prisoned, her death doomed, her buried or her 
 slandered and reprobated lover, was ever present to 
 her thoughts. With all the resolution of 
 strong faith, she had flung her youth, her 
 hope, her beauty, her talent upon his 
 
 bosom, weighed him against the world, which 
 she found but a feather in the scale, and taken him 
 as an equivalent.” Previous to Emmet’s trial, 
 there was an attempt made to bribe the jailor to 
 allow his prisoner to escape ; a vessel having been 
 put in readiness to convey him to the continent. 
 This plan was frustrated by the jailor, after re- 
 ceiving part of the bribe he was to get, going to a 
 higher authority, and informing him of the whole 
 arrangement entered into by Emmet’s friends. The 
 day of trial was now at hand, and deep anxiety 
 and sorrow was to be seen on many a face ; but 
 Emmet knew well that his doom was sealed at the 
 Castle , anterior to its being pronounced before the 
 special commission by Lord Nor bury, commonly 
 
49 
 
 known by the popular soubriquet of “ the hanging 
 judge.” On the fifteenth of August, he was sum- 
 moned to appear before these worthies, where he 
 was destined to perform a miracle — that of stirring 
 the torpid feelings of Norbury , to be ruffled for 
 once in a long life with emotion. The other judges 
 were Baron George, and Baron Daly. The Court- 
 house, which was soon crowded to excess, being 
 lined with soldiers, Robert Emmet, dressed in black, 
 wearing a black velvet stock and Hessian boots, was 
 brought from prison, after exchanging, as he 
 passed out, a few parting words with his cousin 
 St. John Mason, at the grating of his cell. Having 
 been placed in the dock, his trial commenced about 
 ten o’clock, but he had intimated, as he entered, to 
 Mr. Burrowes, who was to have been his counsel, 
 that he did not wish any one to plead in his behalf. 
 The trial now opened by reading the indictment 
 against one, whom it went on to say, not having 
 any fear of God in his heart, was instigated by the 
 devil, to traitorously conspire against such a 
 paragon of perfection, such a humane and benevo- 
 lent king and his lawful sovereign too — bless the 
 mark ! to whom he owed his love, deep veneration, 
 and humble obedience ; (like every loyal Irish 
 subject,) disturbing the peace of his propitious 
 reign and his happy, contented, and well governed 
 realm (laughter). I think I have given quite 
 enough of the sentiments conveyed in the indict- 
 ment to elicit a smile from such an enlightened 
 audience as I now have the honour to address. 
 How much this puritanical composition reminds us 
 of Cromwell’s letter on the taking of Drogheda 
 (hear and applause). Emmet pleaded not guilty, 
 and then the Attorney General rose, and in a long 
 and eloquent speech, described Emmet as being 
 the prime mover in the rebellion, which would, if 
 successful, bring about a cruel and unrelenting 
 despotism ; but as to its issue he had no fears, the 
 firmness and watchfulness of government, the good 
 discipline and bravery of their soldiery, and the 
 loyalty of . a people so ready to rise up en masse to 
 crush either a foreign or domestic foe ; this activity 
 of the government and reciprocity of the people, 
 would, he was confident, preserve the united 
 powers a bulwark of strength against their enemies 
 in happiness, prosperity, and independance. After 
 
So 
 
 this flowery speech, which we must all look upon 
 as Irish gospel transplanted from the Blarney- 
 Stone (laughter), the business of the court proceeded 
 by calling the evidence against the prisoner. This 
 dull melo-drama being gone through, Emmet refus- 
 ing to call any witness or to reply to the accusations 
 preferred against him, his counsel, Mr. McNally, 
 said he supposed the trial was closed on both sides. 
 But the bosom friend of the prisoner’s brother was 
 yet to come forward to pour his vituperation upon 
 one of the purest souls that ever winged its flight 
 from the grosser materials of earth to the sanctity 
 of heaven. The Solicitor General Plunket, was 
 yet to stand up as a prosecutor — to call upon the 
 jury to convict him, for putting in force what he 
 had declared, but three years and a half previous* 
 that he would most certainly do if the Union was 
 passed (hear). But Mr. Plunket forgot his threat, 
 his love of liberty, and independance together 
 (hear, hear). In his eloquent speech before the 
 Union, he says : — “If the wanton ambition of a 
 minister should assault the freedom of Ireland, and 
 compel me to the alternative, I would fling the con- 
 nection to the winds, and I would clasp the 
 independance of my country to my heart. I trust 
 the virtue and wisdom of the Irish parliament and 
 people will prevent that dreadful alternative from 
 arising* If it should come, be the guilt of it on the 
 heads of those who make it necessary.” That 
 dreadful alternative came in a short time to pass, 
 our worthy fire-brand Plunket coolly and inactively 
 lived it out without striking a blow, and became 
 Solicitor General, changed his tune, and now we 
 have the prodigy before the bar, prosecuting the 
 brother of his college companion for carrying out 
 his own sentiments (hear, hear). But the prisoner, 
 putting in force these sentiments, which he had 
 vowed openly himself to do, he said, was making an 
 unworthy use of his great talents — it was an 
 atrocious conspiracy, he said, “of which the person 
 whom he was bringing home guilt tp was the 
 centre, life, blood, and soul.” The next passage of 
 this gentleman’s speech worthy of notice is this — 
 he says : — “ But were it practicable to sever that 
 connection, to untie the links which bind us to the 
 British constitution, and turn us adrift upon the 
 turbulent ocean of revolution, who could answer for 
 
51 
 
 the exi^tenoe of this country as an independent 
 country for a year ? God and nature have made 
 the two countries essential to each other. Let them 
 cling to each other to the end of time ; and then 
 united affection and loyalty will be proof against 
 the machinations of the world.” This phantom 
 idea does not rest with Plunket alone. We cannot 
 give him the exclusive right to such a sorry 
 misrepresentation of things as they are : un- 
 fortunately, there are many of his countrymen of 
 the same opinion. I have met Irishmen, whom I 
 considered enlightened, and who have expressed 
 the same thoughts — that connection with England 
 was absolutely necessary for the prosperity of 
 Ireland. I was a at loss to know why ? They said, 
 our incapability of governing, our want of 
 resources, our division, our weakness. This is all 
 moonshine. Let us gaze around Europe, and 
 America, and in the camp, and the government, 
 we will find in nearly every state, Irishmen at the 
 head of affairs — men who have signalized and 
 raised themselves by merit alone to their elevated 
 positions ; and we might quote many foreign authors 
 to prove the physical strength of the Irish, their 
 endurance, their inventiveness, and intellectual 
 quickness — can we be then such a brainless people 
 unsuited for the arts of government or arms ? Now 
 as to the country’s resources and the prosperity she 
 would rise to, by a separation from England, it 
 only requires us to refer to Dr. Kane’s admirable 
 work on her industrial resources. He has fully 
 answered Bishop Berkeley’s query— that if a 
 brazen wall surrounded their island , would the Irish 
 live and prosper ? he has proved in the clearest 
 manner that they would, and that in a country so 
 full of wealth and the means of guarding it, its 
 people being left to themselves, misfortune, mis-^ 
 government, oppression and poverty would fade 
 away like a troubled dream before riches, freedom, 
 and enlightenment. We now come to our division 
 and our weakness, and we ask, what has caused 
 them ? The one we can account for from being 
 long under the degrading slavery of a decimating 
 tyranny, and the other we can trace from the 
 artifice of a wily government, which in Ireland has 
 left nothing to be recorded of its members by the 
 impartial historian, but their base policy, cruelty, 
 
62 
 
 fanaticism, low cunning, and unswerving brutality. 
 But our weakness, when a flash of hope has burst 
 over our dark cloud of sorrow has shown itself a 
 bulwark of strength, the intonations of which were 
 loud enough to make despots tremble, when I may 
 say, the rising of a country and a half against 
 enormous disciplined forces nearly overturned the 
 British rule for ever in our fair country. Our 
 combativeness, which many regard as a national sin, 
 has certainly something to do with our division ; 
 but with all this faction, as a hideous nightmare, 
 would be shaken off from our land were it not 
 fomented and encouraged by the spoiler. He saw 
 our weak point — he took advantage of it-^-and 
 nurtured every feeling, and kindled every passion 
 within our breasts against each other, that it was 
 possible to draw forth, i ntil the land from one end 
 to the other was torn with discord by his cunning 
 and our simplicity. Take away his domination, 
 and disunion will fly along with it from our 
 beautiful island home, whose verdant valleys could 
 never again be defiled by the foot prints of slavery, 
 and where the stranger could never more inhabit, 
 but die, like the poisonous reptile, the moment his 
 polluted foot touched its sacred earth. There are 
 three sorts of men who attack and make light of 
 this theory, and who sneer at the opinions of those 
 who even alone imagine that it is possible we might 
 get on as well, or even hold our place among 
 nations if we were withdrawn from the motherly 
 influence and protecting arm of England. These 
 orders principally consist of — first those connected 
 with the conqueror’s government, who fatten like 
 locusts on the plains where they raise a famine and 
 a plague, but as we are not cannibals, when they die 
 they are not even of such worth to us as the locusts 
 are to the African, who makes them supply the 
 place of the food they have demolished (applause). 
 The next sort of men are a would-be aristocracy, 
 who would sacrifice every honourable emotion and 
 patriotic principle to have themselves placed side 
 by side with the grandees of the state. To gain 
 their society or some petty place under the govern- 
 ment they would say, as an Irish member of 
 parliament said in the time of Emmet when rebuked 
 for his perfidy — “ thank God that I have a country 
 to sell . 57 The third species are those, who, when 
 
 / 
 
53 t 
 
 % 
 
 conquered, wish to make the best of an alien 
 government and by submissiveness to a foreign 
 yoke, try to make the chain of slavery sit more easy 
 upon their galled necks. Not wishing to dwell upon 
 former greatness or the chance expectations for the 
 future, if they only risk their fortune or life — 
 they banish both entirely from their view, and 
 bring a theory of peace to their aid — a theory as 
 rotten and baseless as it is inglorious. We will now 
 conclude our subject for this evening, with a 
 recollection of what Ireland was before the spoiler’s 
 hand had touched it— as* such beings as I have 
 mentioned, who barely deserve the name of men, 
 are endeavouring to forget as being a useless and 
 troublesome recollection. Erin from the Milesian 
 conquest to the fatal Anglo Norman invasion, a 
 period which, takes in more than 2,400 years, held 
 her position among the nations, and shone out a 
 bright beacon to the world through many a dark 
 age. At first, like other countries, she was sub- 
 divided into petty states and colonies, and dark and 
 fabulous legends, as of all early settlers of every 
 other part of the world are chiefly to be gleaned 
 from the accounts of these mythic ages. But 
 emerging from this obscure state, we find her with 
 her chief monarch and her quick and sensitive 
 people, noble, generous, warlike, and brave ; fond of 
 learning and its professors ; fond of freedom ; 
 proud of high and noble descent, quick of insult or 
 acts of friendship, hospitable, reckless, and daring. 
 Thus we find her spreading her conquests over 
 England from sea to sea, giving monarchs to Scot- 
 land, overrunning France to the foot of the Alps ; 
 and when barbarians overrun Europe, quenching 
 the light of learning, we find her preserving it 
 brilliant and unsullied, and we find the people of 
 other countries coming to drink at her founts of 
 knowledge. We find her the western emporium for 
 arts and science, and with the knowledge of naviga- 
 tion, trading with the most enlightened parts of the 
 world when England was scarcely recognised upon 
 the maps of Europe ; and also in religion we find 
 her a bright example ; even beautiful in her pagan 
 times, her altars not stained with human blood, 
 and while ignorant of the Great Father of all, her 
 people did not in general stoop to idols, but wor- 
 shipped Him in his most powerful apparent handy 
 
54 
 
 work Baal, or the great luminary of day : and in the 
 days of Christianity, from the time it first beamed 
 on her fair soil, we find her giving saints to every 
 part of the world, and she can boast that in those 
 days no Goth, no Vandal, no Hun or Roman ever 
 conquered her ; and where did the Danes get such a 
 signal overthrow as they did in Ireland ? She had 
 her great lawgivers, great as those of Lacedemon or 
 Athens, she had her militia , the finest body of men 
 in the world, and she had her provincial kings, 
 princes, chieftains, and nobles , all regulated by their 
 chief monarch who lived in a spacious palace and 
 who kept a court unequalled by his contemporaries, 
 perhaps in the world. Erin was happy then, she 
 was prosperous, she was powerful, but above all, she 
 was free ! She showed herself worthy of having 
 her own monarch, having her own laws, and ruling 
 herself. And now, as we look back on the genera- 
 tions that have passed by since Ireland’s captivity, 
 can we give it a place in our minds, that the yoke 
 of slavery, (although we have worn it for more than 
 seven hundred years), has unfitted us for freedom ? 
 No ! we cannot give ear to such an imputation, we 
 were never thoroughly conquered, we never became 
 a Saxon race like the English— we retained our love 
 of freedom — the hope of regaining it, and we 
 retained our religion, our manners, our customs, 
 and our language ; and as long as a people retain 
 these essentials to nationality — these badges of 
 their descent, they are not, they cannot be, an 
 entirely conquered people. The Irish are a royal 
 people, the descendants of kings, and jealous of their 
 genealogies : they have preserved them pure amidst 
 all political storms even down to the present. Then 
 ye O’Neill’s, O’Donnell’s, O’Malley’s, O’Byrne’s, 
 M‘Carthy’s, M‘Cabe’s, M‘Kee’s, (cheers) ; all ye, 
 who can trace your pedigree up to royalty, to 
 monarchs who laid the power of France at their 
 feet, who made the progenitors of your task masters 
 fawn and crouch beneath their power, will you, t 
 say, receive this flimsy doctrine that Erin is no longer 
 capable of ruling herself ? There may be some of 
 you who will accept it. Yes, many. But the royal 
 blood of Milesius descends still unsullied in the 
 veins of many of you, and will through your 
 descendants — your line still prove themselves to be 
 warriors, who have not tarnished the bravery of 
 
55 
 
 their race ; and oh ! may a day come, is my fervent 
 hope, my prayer, when as powerful nobles in the 
 land, your line will carry down the name, bright as 
 in ancient Erin, to far off generations in regener- 
 ated Ireland ! 
 
 “ O Erin ! the muses thy bright hills among, 
 
 Fix’d their throne, when the Grecian in learning 
 was young, 
 
 When nations now rampant in power were un- 
 known, 
 
 The deeds of a long polished race were thine own ; 
 And when Rome in her cradle no strain could pro- 
 long, 
 
 Thy bards gave the world the refinement of song ; 
 And to thee, in her gifts to the nations, heaven 
 gave 
 
 The heart of the noble — the hand of the brave ! 
 
 THIRD LECTURE, 
 
 On Tuesday evening. 23rd ISTov., the third and con- 
 cluding lecture on “ The Life and Times of Robert 
 Emmet” was delivered in the Mayoralty Room, by 
 Geo. H. Kirk, Esq. The attendance was even larger 
 than at either of the previous lectures, every seat 
 being occupied. On Mr. Kirk’s qualifications as a 
 lecturer we need not dwell, as it would be simply to 
 repeat what has already appeared in our columns — 
 not for the first, nor the second time. Into these 
 lectures, as we anticipated he would, Mr. Kirk put 
 his whole soul. His extensive reading, vivid ima- 
 gery, and strong love of country have been strik: 
 ingly displayed in these lectures. The entrance 
 into the lecture-room of the Rev. Mr. M‘Kee, Rev. 
 J , K. Markey, and other clergymen was hailed with 
 bursts of applause. Mr. Kirk, we need scarcely say, 
 also received an enthusiastic reception, together 
 with other principal parties amongst the auditory. 
 The very crowded state of the room made it difficult 
 to give a numerous list of those present, but 
 amongst the auditory we observed : — Yery Rev. 
 Mr. Hanrahan, O.S.A, ; Rev. J K. Markey, P.P., 
 Clogher; Rev. Thomas Gavin, C.C., St. Mary’s* 
 Drogheda ; Rev. J. Gallogly, C.C., Tullyallen ; Rev. 
 Mr. Glynn, Q.S.A. ; Rev. Mr. Mathews, C.C., Dro? 
 
56 
 
 miskin ; Eev. Mr. O’Byrne, O.S.A. ; Eev. Mr. 
 Cooney, O.S.F. ; Eev. Brother Larkin, Superior 
 C.B. ; Eev. Brothers O’Donnell and O’Malley ;JJ. 
 A. Flanagan, T.C. ; Nicholas Leech, T.C. ; Mrs. 
 Leech ; Thomas Daly, West-street; Mrs. Daly; 
 Patrick M. Brady, T.C. ; E. J. Kelly, M.D. ; Patrick 
 Byrne, H.C., West-street; Mrs. Byrne; Eichard 
 Kirk, Newgrange ; the Misses Kirk ; T. Carpenter, 
 junior ; the Misses Carpenter; Thomas Connolly, 
 builder; Mrs. Connolly; John Costello, Brogliecla 
 Argils-, Peter O’Neill, Secretary S.P.C. ; John 
 Eerily, Clerk of Union ; Patrick Eeilly, Shop- 
 street ; John Nolan, Patrick Eice, Sunday-gate ; J. 
 Mangan, &c., &c. 
 
 The band of the society, which has been lately re- 
 organised — we hope not to be dis-banded as hereto- 
 fore—plaved before and after the lecture, under the 
 able direction of Mr. Eothe, with commendable 
 proficiency, considering the short time they have 
 been in practice. 
 
 At eight o’clock, the chair was taken by the 
 spiritual director of the society, 
 
 The Eev. H. M‘Kee. 
 
 The Chairman in brief and appropriate terms in- 
 troduced the lecturer. 
 
 Mr Kirk then came forward to the rostrum and was 
 received with loud cheers. He said : — 
 
 When we consider the history of vanquished 
 nations, we cannot but contemplate the struggles 
 and downfall of their patriots. We find in these 
 countries often, that their people are endued with 
 love of liberty, love of home, devotion, sincerity, 
 and endurance, and many other good qualities, 
 essential to true patriotism. Take for instance 
 Ireland and Poland. There we have two pictures 
 of devotedness and courage, combatting against 
 corruption, bribery, sordidness and greed of gain — 
 intellect and energy — ardour and genius— arrayed 
 against cool calculating cunning and the faculty of 
 distinguishing with unerring sagacity, real interest, 
 and the base quality of sacrificing to it every 
 generous emotion of the heart. Such have been 
 the distinguishing features of Ireland and Poland : 
 such the qualities of their arbiters, England and 
 Kussia. It may be unpleasant to dwell upon, but 
 such is the fact — England possesses the key of Ire- 
 
57 
 
 land’s fetters, that rust round her festering ancles — 
 Russia has her iron heel upon Poland, endeavouring 
 to press out every noble feeling or emotion, and 
 while in this position : — 
 
 “ Poland is dead, 
 
 The tyrant said.” 
 
 But the patriot starts up to prove — 
 
 11 She but sleeps, 
 
 While her genius keeps 
 
 A watch for her waking hour.” 
 
 With all her terrors , 11 The gallant Pole but waits 
 the chance to break the Russian chain.” 
 And Erin, in that beautiful metaphorical 
 language of Curran’s : — “ An emerald set in the 
 ring of the sea,” have her patriots not risen too ? 
 Yes, they have tugged at her chains, until they have 
 startled old Britannia from her dream of security. 
 But still their patriots fall, and again those two 
 nations seem to fall back into that dull dark trance 
 of slavery : the noblest of the human race die for 
 them, and they live on, in that seemingly, endless, 
 loathsome captivity. Such is the decree of fate, 
 and we cannot quarrel with it— there is some wise 
 purpose hidden beneath this great mystery. A 
 great earthly authority has said, 5 ‘ Whatever is, is 
 right,” and in the failure of these just causes, 
 perhaps we may have what ought to be. If Hugh, 
 or Owen Roe O’Neill succeeded, we might never 
 have heard of Wolfe Tone — his grandeur of soul 
 might never have been brought forth. If Wolfe 
 Tone was fortunate, Emmet never would have 
 shone out as a beacon star to his countrymen ; so 
 with Ireland, if she had ever continued prosperous, 
 she might not have known the worth of freedom ; 
 and like all great nations that have risen to great 
 power and opulence, spreading their conquests 
 east and west, and when risen to the full zenith of 
 power, as surely falling away into insignificance ; 
 so she might be crumbling now, beneath the over- 
 powering weight of her numerous possessions, not, 
 as we hope and augur her destiny -will be— the 
 realization of Saint Bridget’s vision — the original of 
 Moore’s picture. Yes, my country 
 
58 
 
 tl The nations have fallen and thou still art young, 
 
 Thy sun is but rising, when others are set ; 
 
 And tho’ slavery’s cloud o’er thy morning hath 
 hung, 
 
 The full noon of freedom shall beam round thee 
 yet, 
 
 Erin ! Oh Erin ! tho’ long in the shade, 
 
 Thy star will shine out, when the proudest shall 
 fade.” 
 
 In the downfall of Empires we must regard their 
 patriots, we must recognise them, as “ belonging to 
 a race of popular heroes, the elite of mankind 
 and looking upon them as such, it is natural we 
 should be anxious to trace their attempts from the 
 causes to the effects — to investigate their actions 
 and scrutinize their worth. There are many rise 
 up with the pretentions of being patriots, who 
 delude their countrymen into the belief that they 
 are “really such ; and often it is only Time, that 
 through her penetrating microscope, (when their 
 deeds have had their effect and gone down to 
 posterity), can reveal that ambition or greed of 
 gain, alone propelled them to such actions. There 
 are others in the midst of their career are recognised 
 as not wholly devoted to the cause of the people 
 (hear, hear). Then from such beings as these, it 
 is the duty of the historian to separate the true 
 disciples of liberty, “ the elite of mankind.” These 
 are the men alone to hold up to the public gaze, as 
 demi-gods — the benefactors of the human race — at 
 whose shrines they are to drink in that true spirit 
 of patriotism, that must one day overturn 
 despotism. And if they have fallen martyrs to 
 that liberty they worshipped while, like guardian 
 angels, endeavouring to protect the weak against 
 the strong ; if their large hearts have bled their 
 last drop in the cause of oppressed suffering, and 
 their eyes have closed forever, even on a darker 
 and more appalling scene than that which they 
 first opened upon, our first impression would be, 
 that it would be better for their country if they 
 never had lived — that their object was a good one ; 
 that their intentions were good if they were 
 feasible — that of the liberating of slaves and the 
 downfall of despotism, but they failed, and failure 
 generally brings disgrace, and now their country 
 
59 
 
 feels their folly — the scourge was upon it, but now 
 they have'doubled the stripes — they have plunged it 
 into a deeper bondage, which it is now more difficult 
 to break than ever. Such would be our first 
 impression, but let us pause and take a retrospective 
 view of the history of patriotism, and we will find 
 that the martyrs of liberty never, die in vain, their 
 blood fertilizes patriotism, its germs are nurtured 
 and strengthened by its influence, and the more 
 the one flows the stronger the other grows and 
 flourishes, until one day the crop is reaped in 
 abundance and the profit exceeds the outlay. As 
 to the fall of patriot martyrs tightening the chain 
 of slavery more firmly round a vanquished nation’s 
 neck, we have only to look upon our own fair 
 country to refute this hypothesis. Look upon her 
 before the year ’Ninety-eight, and look at the same 
 country in forty years after (hear, hear,}. See her 
 in the dark night of bondage when the Fitzgeralds, 
 the Tones, and the Emmets rose up ; and when 
 they had revived nationality and fed the flickering 
 flame of freedom, and renewed the spirit of 
 patriotism by their martyrdom, see her struggling 
 on, galled and oppressed after their fall, destined 
 to all appearance never more to rise up from 
 misery, even with a feeble and a trembling voice to 
 assert her rights — withdraw your gaze from her ; 
 and forty years after glance upon the despoiled one 
 and in amazement you will behold from the 
 darkness a bright light advancing, the precursor of 
 the sun of freedom. Another day comes, and 
 another set of men arise as true as the former, and 
 they too pass away and the gloom returns : but the 
 light comes again in the east, and forty years from 
 hence it may not be the herald of the sun of 
 liberty, but that bright luminary itself that will be 
 beaming in all its noon-day splendour over the 
 tearful, the trembling, and the long illtreated Erin 
 (hear, hear). The position of the true patriot is no 
 enviable situation with regard to earthly con- 
 siderations. It is in the heart and conscience he 
 must seek for repayment and consolation, to 
 heaven he must look for reward suitable to his 
 undertaking or adequate to his views. It is not to 
 the cheer of a crowd, or the pageant of a victorious 
 entry to a palace, or the ovation of a battle field 
 that can repay him for his undertakings. No ! he 
 
60 
 
 must reflect on that warrior, Alexander IV, who on 
 entering a captured town amid the shouts of the 
 populace, saw the people, who were going to burn 
 his effigy on a gibbet, turn to make him a monu- 
 ment. Turning to his son with a smile he said, 
 u Behold what popularity is worth — the small 
 difference between a gibbet and a statue.” No ! it 
 is to the heart alone he must look for recompense, 
 his inward monitor alone can give him a gif t equal 
 .tojjs deserts. When conscience tells him he has 
 acted the part of a man, a hero, a philanthropist f a 
 benefactor of mankind, there is his meed ! Then 
 the true patriot must be blessed with an intellect 
 that can soar above public v opinion, sordidness, or 
 misfortune ; a virtue, that can resist the attractions 
 or allurements of fortune, and a mind that can 
 leave personal considerations behind in the general 
 good. If we look for the reward of the highest 
 rank of patriotism among men in general, we will be 
 miserably mistaken : persecution or slander await it, 
 corruption opposes it, false friends or lukewarm 
 followers forsake it. But though this is the case, 
 are the rights of man not to be asserted till men 
 grow wiser or better : are there to be no heralds to 
 liberty ? no landmarks to point out the way to 
 salvation ? If venality and treachery thwart and 
 oppose him, must the patriot halt in his mid- 
 career ? — must defections from the ranks dis- 
 courage him from continuing in his design ? It 
 was not thus that the liberators of oppressed 
 nations have ever acted ; if they had done so, they 
 never would have won the independence of their 
 native homes (hear, hear). There never were 
 leaders started up to assert their country’s just 
 rights, the precursers of freedom, but had to 
 struggle against similar baseness, but a great soul 
 will soar over such difficulties, the true patriot will 
 uphold the cause he defends, should he stand alone 
 in the contest. Judge Johnson has truly written 
 that, u It is the history of patriotism when it passes 
 the level of ordinary intelligence to draw down on 
 itself the vengeance of the power it has provoked, 
 and to be feebly supported by timid friends. 
 Persecuted on one side, abandoned on the other, 
 genius rises alone like the ruins of Palmyra in the 
 desert, and borrows I know not what of solemnity 
 from the desolation which surrounds it. Ought, 
 
61 
 
 then, no resistance to be made to tyranny till men 
 shall have learned to know and defend their rights ? 
 Will they ever learn except from some messenger 
 of the truth who teaches them the way of 
 salvation by his martyrdom 2 ’Tis not in vain that 
 Providence has implanted in the heart of man, the 
 instinct of resistance to oppression.” We must 
 now return to Plunket’s speech where we left off 
 the last evening, where the hypocrite exhorted the 
 prisoner to employ the time he still had left in 
 warning his deluded countrymen of his errors : he 
 says : — u It is not for me to say, what were the 
 limits of the mercy of God, what a sincere 
 repentance of those crimes might effect ; but I do 
 say, that if this unfortunate young gentleman 
 retained any’ of the seeds of humanity in his heart, 
 or possessed any of those qualities which a 
 virtuous education in a liberal seminary must have 
 planted in his bosom, he will make an atonement to 
 his God and his country, by employing whatever 
 time remains to him in warning his deluded 
 countrymen from persevering in their schemes.” 
 Mr* Plunket finishes up by calling u devoutly on 
 God to confound and overwhelm” that which he 
 declared before parliament a few short years be- 
 fore, that he was determined, to put in force, but 
 which he now stigmatized as “ atrocious, wicked, 
 and abominable.” At the conclusion of the 
 Solicitor-general’s speech, the jury were charged 
 by the accomplished man of hanging , Judge 
 Norbury, whose speech, Madden tells us„ was as 
 free from rancour as any speech of his could be in 
 such a case. When he concluded, the jury without 
 leaving the box pronounced the prisoner guilty. 
 Mr. M‘lSrally then on the part of Emmet, prayed that 
 judgment might be deferred until the next day, 
 which request the Attorney-general said could not be 
 complied with. In the usual way the prisoner was then 
 asked by the Clerk of the Crown,— “ What he had 
 to say, why the sentence of death and execution 
 should not be pronounced against him according to . 
 law.” Emmet’s reply to this, from its grandeur, 
 manliness, and extreme beauty, I will read for you 
 in its entirety. The young patriot, now on the 
 brink of the grave, but still neither unnerved or 
 humbled, came forward to the front of the dock, 
 and before the bench commenced thus : — “ My 
 
62 
 
 lords, as to why judgment of death and execution 
 should not be passed upon me, according to law, I 
 have nothing to say ; but as to why my character 
 should not be relieved from the imputations and 
 calumnies thrown out against it, I have much to 
 say. I do not imagine that your lordships will 
 give credit to what I am going to utter ; I have no 
 hopes that I can anchor my character in the breast 
 of this court ; I onl} wish your lordships may suffer 
 it to float down your memories until it has found 
 some more hospitable harbour to shelter it from the 
 storms with which it is at present buffeted. I am 
 arraigned here as being engaged in a conspiracy 
 against the English Government in Ireland : I avow 
 it, I am a conspirator. For that I am to undergo 
 the penalty of the law, and to answer for my inten- 
 tions before God. I am ready to do the one and 
 the other. Was I to suffer only death after being 
 adjudged guilty, I should bow in silence to the 
 fate that awaits me ; but the sentence of the law 
 which delivers over my body to the executioner 
 consigns my character to obloquy. A man in my 
 situation has not only to encounter the difficulties 
 of fortune, but also the difficulties of prejudice ; 
 when fortune abandons him and gives him into the 
 hands of his enemies, his character is immediately 
 attacked by calumny. For in this case, my lords, 
 there must needs be a crime and a criminal ; be- 
 tween you and me posterity will one day decide. 
 The man dies, but his memory lives. That mine 
 may not perish, that it may live in the respect of my 
 countrymen, I seize upon this opportunity to 
 vindicate myself from some of the charges alleged 
 against me. I am charged with being an emissary 
 of France. It is false. I did not wish to deliver 
 up my country to a foreign power, and least of all 
 to France. Never did I entertain the remotest 
 idea of establishing French power in Ireland. 
 According to the paragraph with which the address 
 of the Provisional Government begins, it is 
 evident that every danger attached to an effort of 
 our own for independence was deemed preferable 
 to the still more fatal danger of introducing a 
 French army into Ireland ; and here I shall remark 
 upon a singular error in the argument of the 
 Attorney-general. The proof, he says, that we 
 counted upon the assistance of the French is, that 
 
63 
 
 the plan of conspiracy was formed before their 
 arrival. This argument clearly proves the contrary. 
 Small indeed, would be our claim to patriotism and 
 sense, and palpable our affectation of the love of 
 liberty, if we were to sell our country to a people 
 who are not only slaves themselves but the 
 unprincipled and abandoned instruments of imposing 
 slavery on others. Look what the conduct of France 
 has been in Switzerland, in Holland, and in Italy. 
 Could we hope for better in our own case? We 
 wanted to deliver our country into the hands of 
 France ! And for what reason ? To change our 
 masters? Had we entertained such ideas, how 
 could we have dared to speak of giving liberty to 
 our fellow-countrymen ? How could we have had 
 such a high motive ? Every such conclusion, from 
 whatsoever portion of the proclamation of the 
 Provisional Government it may be drawn, is a 
 calumny on our designs ; there is not a single fact 
 to justify it. Bead the proclamation. Where is 
 there a question of French aid ? Is it on that 
 passage where the people of Ireland are called on to 
 show the world that they are worthy of resuming 
 their place among the nations ? That they have 
 a right to be recognised as an independent people by 
 the one manifest proof which can be given, by 
 throwing off with their own hands the yoke of 
 England ? Had not the conspiracy been organised 
 eight months* before the commencement of 
 hostilities ? It is said we intended delivering our 
 country up to France. The statement is made 
 with no other proofs than the assertion. Our 
 declaration and our acts are evidence against our 
 accusation. Connection with France, was indeed, 
 intended, but only as far as mutual interest would 
 sanction or require. It is not only to-day that I 
 have discovered by what bonds states are united. 
 We know full well that union exists only by reason 
 of their interests, and if that interest should 
 change, it is not written articles that can protect the 
 weaker state and insure its independence. There- 
 fore the intention of the Provisional Government 
 has never been to conclude a permanent alliance 
 with France ; for we well know that treaties are 
 soon regarded as null, and are violated on the 
 slightest pretext whenever mutual interest has 
 ceased to exist. It is true that there have been 
 
.64 
 
 negociations with France. This day there is at 
 Paris, my lords, an agent of the United Irishmen 
 who negociates with the French Government to 
 obtain sufficient aid to accomplish the separation of 
 Ireland and G-reat Britain — aid for which the 
 preliminary condition will be a guarantee for Ire - 
 land like that which Franklin obtained for 
 America. Of the success of this negociation Eng- 
 land shall one day be the judge. Were the French 
 to come as invaders or enemies, uninvited by the 
 wishes of the people, I should oppose them to the 
 utmost of my strength. Yes! my countrymen, I 
 would advise you to meet them on the beach with 
 a sword in one hand and a torch in the other (cheers). 
 I would meet them with all the destructive fury of 
 war. I would animate my countrymen to 
 immolate them in their boats before they had 
 contaminated the soil of my country. If they 
 succeeded in landing, and if forced to retire before 
 superior discipline, I would dispute every inch of 
 ground, burn every blade of grass, ami the last 
 entrenchment of liberty should be my grave. 
 What I could not do myself, if I should fall, I 
 should leave as a last charge to my countrymen to 
 accomplish ; because I should feel conscious that 
 life, anymore than death, is unprofitable when a 
 foreign nation holds my country in subjection. My 
 lords, it may be part of the system of angry justice 
 to bow a man’s mind by humiliation to meet the 
 ignominy of tiie scaffold ; but worse to me than the 
 scaffold’s shame or the scaffold’s terrors, would be 
 the imputation of having been the agent of the 
 despotism and ambition of France ; and whilst I 
 have breath I will call upon my countrymen not 
 to believe me guilty of so. foul a crime against their 
 liberties and against their happiness. My object 
 and that of the rest of the Provisional Government 
 was to effect a total separation between Great 
 Britain and Ireland.” (Here the prisoner was 
 interrupted. Lord Norbury imperiously commanded 
 him to be silent and to listen to the sentence bf the 
 law.) “ I havfe understood that judges sometimes 
 think it their duty to hear with patience ’ and speak 
 with humanity, to exhort the victim of the laws, 
 and to offer with tender benignity their opinions of 
 the motives by which he was actuated in the 
 crime of which he was adjudged guilty. That a 
 
65 
 
 judge has thought it his duty so to have done, I 
 have no doubt ; but where is the boasted freedom 
 of your institutions — where is the vaunted 
 
 impartiality, clemency, and mildness of your courts 
 of justice, if an unfortunate prisoner whom your 
 policy, and not justice, is about to deliver into the 
 hands of the executioner, is not suffered to explain 
 his motives, sincerely and truly, to vindicate the 
 principles by which he was actuated ? You my 
 lord are the judge — I am the supposed culprit. By 
 a revolution of power we might change places, 
 though we never could change characters. If I 
 stand at the bar of this court, and dare not 
 vindicate my character, how dare you calumniate 
 it ? Does the sentence of death which your 
 unhallowed policy inflicts on my body, condemn 
 my tongue to silence and my reputation to re- 
 proach ? Your executioner may abridge the period 
 of my existence ; but while I exist I shall not for- 
 bear to vindicate my character and motives from 
 your aspersions ; and as a man to whom fame is 
 dearer than life* I will make the last use of that life 
 in doing justice to that reputation which is to live 
 after me, and which is the only legacy I can leave to 
 those I honour and love, and for whom I am proud 
 to perish. As men, my lords, we must appear on 
 the great day at one common Tribunal ; 
 and it will then remain for the Searcher 
 of all hearts to show a collective universe who 
 was engaged in the most virtuous actions 
 or attached by the purest motives — my 
 
 country’s oppressors or” (At these words there 
 
 was some agitation in the co-irt, and the prisoner 
 was again commanded to be silent). “ My Lords, 
 will a dying man be denied the privilege of excul- 
 pating himself in the eyeg of the community of an 
 undeserved reproach, thrown upon him during his 
 trial, by charging him with ambition, and attempt- 
 ing to cast away, for a paltry consideration, the 
 liberties of his country ? Why did your lordships 
 insult me P Or, rather, why insult justice, in de- 
 manding of me why sentence of death should not 
 be pronounced against me ? I know, my lords, that 
 form prescribes that you should ask the question — 
 the form also presents the right of answering. 
 This, no doubt, may be dispensed with, and so 
 might the whole ceremony of the trial, since sen- 
 
66 
 
 tence was already pronounced at the Castle before 
 the jury were empannelled. Your lordships are 
 but the Priests of the Oracle, and I insist on the 
 whole of the forms.” (Here Emmet paused, until 
 the court desired him to proceed). u Well, then, for 
 all those treasons what motive is alleged? Ambi- 
 tion ! Had I been ambitious, my fellow- citizens, it 
 would have been easy enough for me, with my edu- 
 cation, my fortune, the rank and consideration of 
 my family, to seat myself, one day, among the 
 haughtiest of your oppressors. But what I have toiled 
 for was to destroy that G-overnment which rules by 
 impiety against the Most High ; which treats his 
 hapless people like locusts of the forest ; which 
 makes man hunt down his brother, and strike him 
 to the earth if he believes a little more or less than 
 the creed of the G-overnment ; which reigns in the 
 midst of the tears of the widows and the orphans it 
 has made.” (Violent murmurs here made the voice 
 of the accused inaudible for some time). “ When 
 my spirit shall have joined these legions of mar- 
 tyred heroes who have shed their blood on the 
 scaffold, and in the field, in defence of their country, 
 this is my hope : that my name and memory may 
 serve to animate those who survive me (cheers). I 
 have had no other aim but that of delivering my 
 country from the inhuman oppression which she has 
 too long and too patiently endured ; and I have 
 confidence, chimercial as this noble enterprise may 
 appear, that there is yet in Ireland enough of union 
 and strength” (cheers). (A new interruption ren- 
 dered his voice . inaudible). “ If I speak thus, it is 
 not to give myself the puerile satisfaction of causing 
 you an instant of vexation. What I have said was 
 not intended for your lordships, whose position 
 rather inspires me with pity than envy ; my expla- 
 nations are for my fellow -citizens. If there be a 
 true Irishman here let my last words console him 
 in the hour of affliction. I have been charged with 
 such importance as to be considered the key-stone 
 of the combination of Irishmen or, as it has been 
 expressed, the life and blood of this conspiracy. 
 You do me honour over much ; you have given to 
 the subaltern all the credit of the superior (ap- 
 plause). There are men concerned in this conspi- 
 racy who are not only superior to me, but even to 
 your own conceptions of yourselves, my lord — men 
 
67 
 
 before the splendour of whose genius and virtues I 
 should bow with respectful deference, and who 
 would not deign to call you friend, who would not 
 disgrace themselves by shaking your blood-stained 
 hands.” (Here Emmet was interrupted by Lord 
 Norbury). He then continued — “ What, my lord ! shall 
 you tell me that I am accountable for all the blood that 
 has and will be shed in this struggle of the oppressed 
 against the oppressor ? Shall you tell me this, and 
 must I be such a slave as not to cast back the accu- 
 sation on you, my lord, who, were all the innocent 
 blood you have shed in Ireland collected into one 
 grand reservoir, your lordship might swim in it.” 
 (At these words the court interfered to silence the 
 prisoner, and Lord Norbury appeared agitated.) 
 Robert Emmet resumed — “ I do not fear to approach 
 the Omnipotent Judge to answer for the conduct of 
 my short life, and am I to be appalled by a mere 
 remnant of mortality here? Let no man dare, 
 when I am dead, to charge me with dishonour ; let 
 no man attaint my memory by believing that I could 
 have engagedin any cause but that of my country’s 
 liberty and independence (cheers). I would not 
 have submitted to a foreign oppressor for the same 
 reason that I would resist a domestic oppressor 
 (hear). France, even when our enemy, could not 
 be a more implacable one than -the enemy we have 
 in the heart of this country (applause). . . . 
 
 Lord Norbury interrupted him, saying — “ Mr. Em- 
 met, you have been called upon to show cause, if 
 any you have, why the judgment of the law should 
 not be enforced against you. Instead of showing 
 anything in point of law why judgment should not 
 pass, you have proceeded in a manner most unbe- 
 coming a man in your situation ; you have avowed 
 and endeavoured to vindicate principles totally sub- 
 versive of the tranquility, well-being, and happiness 
 of that country which gave you birth ; and you have 
 broached treason most abominable. You, sir, had 
 the honour to be a gentleman by birth, and your 
 father filled a respectable situation under the Go- 
 vernment. You had an elder brother, whom death 
 snatched away, and who, when living, was one of 
 the greatest ornaments of the bar. The laws of 
 the country were the. study of his youth, and the 
 study of his maturer life was to cultivate and sup- 
 port them. He left you a noble example to follow, 
 
68 
 
 and if he had lived he tvould have given your ta- 
 lents the same direction as his own, and have taught 
 you to admire and preserve the constitution for the 
 destruction of which you have conspired with the 
 most profligate and abandoned, and associated your- 
 self 'with hostlers, butchers, and such persons, whom 
 you invited to council when you erected your Pro- 
 visional Government. . . . . When at night 
 
 you came out, heading a band of assassins, and join- 
 ing in their atrocities, you must have lost all senti- 
 ment of what you were.” Emmet hav- 
 ing thanked the judge for his compliments addressed 
 to his family, continued thus — “ If the spirits of the 
 illustrious dead participate in the concerns of those 
 who were dear to them in this transitery life, I sup- 
 plicate my father to look down on his suffering son, 
 and see has he for one moment deviated from those 
 moral and patriotic principles which he so early in- 
 stilled into his youthful mind, and for which he has 
 now to offer np his life. My lords, it is not my in- 
 tention to go beyond the bounds of moderation, 
 and I pray you to stop me if I pass them ; but you 
 must comprehend that it is impossible for me to de- 
 fend myself without saying some things which are 
 disagreeable for you to hear.” Lord In orbury — “ Mr. 
 Emmet, you are too well acquainted with the laws 
 not to understand that it is impossible for me to 
 permit you to employ a dangerous and perverse 
 eloquence attacking the very principles of the go- 
 vernment to which you owe obedience.” Robert 
 Emmet — “ My Lord.”— -Lord Norbury — “ If you 
 have anything to say on the point 
 of law> you may speak ; if not, I cannot allow you. 
 What you have already said confirms and jurtifieS 
 the verdict of the jury.” Robert Emmet — “Then 
 I shall be silent. My justification rests upon 
 abstract principles and the application of them. I 
 would have developed both the one and the other. 
 I was wrong, no doubt, in reckoning on the liberty 
 of defence in this country. But I would descend to 
 the tomb with a heavy weight upon my heart if it 
 could be believed that I have acted with a view to 
 my personal interest or ambition. I adjure all 
 those who have heard the Attorney-general to 
 banish from their minds so false an imputation. 
 My Lord, you are impatient for the sacrifice. The 
 blood which you seek is not congealed by the 
 
69 
 
 artificial terrors which surround your victim ; it 
 circulates warmly and unruffled through its channels, 
 and in a little time will cry to heaven — -be yet 
 patient ! I have but a few words more to say. — 
 I am going to my cold and silent grave ; my lamp 
 of life is nearly extinguished ; I have parted with 
 everything that was dear to me in this life for my 
 country's cause, with the idol of my soul, the object 
 of my affections. My race is run ; the grave opens 
 to receive me and I sink into its bosom. I have 
 but one request to make at my departure from this 
 world, it is the charity of its silence. Let no man 
 write my epitaph ; for as no man, who knows my 
 motives, dare now vindicate them, let no prejudice 
 or ignorance asperse them. Let my memory be left 
 in oblivion, and my tomb remain uninscribed, until 
 other times and other men can do justice to my 
 character. When my country takes her place 
 among the nations of the earth, then, and not till 
 then, let my epitaph be written. I have done.” 
 (Loud applause). After Emmet’s address, little re- 
 mained to finish up the day’s proceedings. Lord 
 Norbury passed the sentence of death and execution, 
 which was to be put in force on the following day. 
 Throughout his address, it is said, he evinced 
 frequent signs of emotion, which were never shown 
 by that iron judge on any -preceding occasion. 
 The trial having lasted until ten o’clock at night 
 the prisoner was then conducted from the dock of 
 the court house to a condemned cell of the prison of 
 Newgate, where he was heavily ironed by Gregg the 
 unfeeling jailor. But even there, their unfortunate 
 prey was not left in peace, to prepare for eternity 
 during the few hours he had to live. The govern- 
 ment — for conscience makes cowards, and guilt 
 brings its own accustomed fears — afraid of an 
 attempt being made to rescue their prisoner, the 
 Secretary at the Castle, after midnight, sent an 
 order to have him removed to Kilmainham Jail, 
 which lay two miles and a half distant. As hypo- 
 crisy could not but mingle with all their under- 
 takings, whether bad or good, these fears were 
 represented as only an anxiety for poor Emmet’s 
 greater comfort. Again this unfortunate being was 
 given into the charge of its jailer, George Dunn, 
 who, it is said, was moved to tears when he be- 
 held the noble youth in chains, and the blood upon 
 
70 
 
 his garments, which oozed from wounds occasioned 
 by them. He then gave the prisoner some food, 
 which he required very much, as he had been on his 
 legs in the court house for nearly eleven hours, 
 besides the time that had since elapsed, and during 
 that time he had not tasted food. Fatigue, youth, 
 and above all, a free conscience, combined to give 
 him that repose which he required, and he soon 
 slept soundly in spite of all the terrors of death 
 which awaited him on the following day — the 
 sacrifice, which would alone satisfy an unprincipled 
 government. On the morning which ushered in the 
 day of Emmet’s execution, he was found by 
 McNally, the barrister — who was considered the 
 most trustworthy friend of the insurgent leaders, 
 but who has lately been discovered to be a doubled 
 dyed traitor in the pay of the government — engaged 
 with the ordinary of Newgate, the Rev. Dr. Gamble, 
 in preparing to meet his Maker. Robert’s first 
 question on M‘Nally’s entrance, was how his mother 
 was, whom he knew had been fast breaking down 
 under the heavy weight of sorrow. The query 
 being unanswered he repeated it. The barrister 
 then said, “ I know, Robert, you would like to see 
 your mother.” To which he replied, “Oh, what 
 would I not give to see her.” To which M‘Nally 
 answered, as he pointed towards heaven, “ Then, 
 Robert, you will see her this day.” The affectionate 
 son, struggling with the most poignant feelings at the 
 death of an affectionate parent, stood silent and 
 motionless for a few minutes, but recollecting chat a 
 few short hours and he would meet her beyond the 
 vale of tears, where the tyrant holds no dominion, 
 he said, “ It is better so.” The remainder of the 
 forenoon was spent in writing letters, the last of 
 which was addressed to Miss Curran’s brother. 
 This letter, written an hour before his execution, in 
 a steady, bold, and regular hand, an evidence of his 
 strength of nerve and mind, shows at once the firm- 
 ness and softness of his nature. It seems Mr. 
 Richard Curran had sent word or written to Emmet 
 that lis pardoned him for what had occurred, and 
 this is Robert’s reply : — 
 
 My Dearest Richard — I find I have but a few 
 hours to live ; but if it was the last moment, and 
 that the power of utterance was leaving me, I would 
 thank you from the bottom of my heart for vour 
 
 
71 
 
 generous expressions of affection, and forgiveness to 
 me.. If there was . any one in the world .to whose 
 breast my death might be supposed not. to,, stifle 
 every spark of resentment it might be you; . I 
 have deeply injured you ; I havb injured .the 
 happiness of ' a sister that you love, and who was 
 formed to give happiness to every- one about i her., 
 instead of having her own mind a prey ito affliction: 
 Oh ! Richatd, I have no excuse to offlr, but that I ! 
 meant the reverse; I intended as much happiness for « 
 Sarah as the' most ardent lover could have given her. 
 
 I never did tell you how much I idolized her: ; It 
 was ndt with a wild or unfounded passion, but. it > 
 was ah attachment increasing every hoiury fnom .an 
 admiration of the purity of her mind, and respept , 
 for her talents. I did dwell in secret flpon ».theY 
 prospect of our union. I did hope that success,. ■ 
 while it afforded the opportunity of our union, ' 
 might be the means of confirming an attachment 
 which misfortune had called forth. I did not look . 
 to honours — praise I would have asked from the lips* * 
 of no man, hut I would have wishediit© read in the 
 glow of Sarah’s countenance that her husband was 
 respected. My love, Sarah 1 it was not thus il . 
 thought to have requited your affection I did hope 
 to be a prop round which your affectidns. might have 
 clung, and which would never have been shaken ; but 
 a rude blast has snapped it, and they have fallen over 
 a grave. This id no time for affliction. I have had 
 public motives to sustain my inind, and I have-not 
 suffered it to sink ; but there have been moments in 
 my imprisonment when my mind was so sunk by 
 grief on her account that death would have been a 
 refuge. God bless you, my dearest Richard.: l am 
 obliged to leave off: immediately. u ■ ; bitcfl «hf © . 0 w 
 
 . Robert Emmet. 
 
 When the shesiffis men came to conduct Emmet 
 from 'his cell, he asked two requests, one was to 
 allow him as much as possible the use of his arms . ; • . 
 the other boon he ,did> not hop© would be acceded , 
 to, however, he said, he had asked it in ;arder to 
 show to the would that even to.the last he -gloried 
 in the cause wMoh hb was about to: suffer for. This 
 favour which )wasjsqught;lbut tto be refused, was 
 that he would be allowed to appear ;on the scaffold 
 in his green uniform, the dress of the rebel army 
 of his lost country. At half past one o’clock, a 
 
72 
 
 mournful procession was seen slowly moving from 
 Kilmainham to Thomas- street, the appointed place 
 of execution, government thinking, I suppose, the 
 place where the conspiracy was hatched was the 
 most proper place for the prisoner to make a final 
 atonement for the crime. So thought the Vo verm 
 ment, but Emmet’s ideas were different. He felt 
 “ a just pride in dying for a good cause” in which 
 there could be no crime thao required expiation. 
 In front of the procession Emmet was borne in a 
 carriage, and large troops of military, both infantry 
 and cavalry, followed close behind. “ The 
 melancholy cortege,” says Madden, “ might have 
 been mistaken for a military funeral, and the 
 young man at the window, who occasionally re- 
 cognised a friend in the crowd, or stationed at a 
 window, for some one connected with the person 
 whose obsequies were about to be performed.” Yet 
 with all this appearance of calm indifference or 
 exemption from fear, there was nothing of 
 ostentation or affectation in his demeanour either 
 on the scaffold or on his way thither. His deport- 
 ment was dignified, and there was a serenity — a 
 firmness — and even a cheerfulness about his 
 countenance, that showed the strong impression he 
 was under — that of dying for a just and holy 
 cause (hear, hear). Convenient to the Royal 
 Hospital, which stands not far from the jail, a 
 carriage was to be seen on the morning of the 
 execution, and in it sat a young lady, her hand- 
 kerchief pressed to her face. As the procession 
 passed close to the vehicle which contained her, she 
 stood up, waved her handkerchief, and sunk back 
 overpowered on her seat. The prisoner rose up, 
 gazed at her intently, and then was observed to 
 wave his hand towards her until she vanished 
 entirely from his view. This lady it is thought was 
 Miss Curran. On Emmet’s alighting at the 
 temporary scaffold, though his arms were tied, he 
 ascended the ladder with an agile step, and reached 
 a platform raised only five or six feet from the 
 ground : a few yards from the scaffold stood a few 
 of Robert’s personal friends and college com- 
 panions, and around it was collected a vast crowd, 
 all eager to catch the last speech of the dying 
 patriot. But in this they were doomed to disap- 
 pointment ; his eloquent tongue like his brave heart 
 
73 
 
 had finished its political career — liis thoughts were 
 raised to a better world, where he expected to meet 
 a more favourable judgment — and the few words 
 it gave utterance to came like from a spirit already 
 celestial “ My friends, I die in peace, and with 
 sentiments of love and charity towards all men.” 
 This brief address was pronounced in a clear, firm 
 voice, which his college friend thought not the 
 least altered from what it had been, when often 
 its sweet ringing accents thrilled his inmost soul 
 upon a different theatre. After giving his watch 
 to the executioner, and shaking hands with a few 
 persons around him, he helped to adjust the rope 
 about his neck, and in a few seconds one of the 
 brightest of mankind in talent and virtue was 
 launched into eternity— that soul, that could not 
 brook the chain of an earthfy tyrant, winged its 
 flight heavenward through the freedom of endless 
 space. Death had snatched his prey, and the earth 
 had lost one of its brightest ornaments in the gifted, 
 the brave, the good, and youthful martyr— his 
 country’s most illustrious son. The body being 
 after the usual time cut down, his head was severed 
 from the trunk, and exhibited to the multitude by 
 the “ finisher of the law,” as he cried out, u behold 
 the head of a traitor, Robert Emmet,” to which 
 the only dissent the crowd could give was returned 
 — a universal, deep, and prolonged silence. O 
 heaven ! while saints could have wept and angels 
 blushed at the unhallowed deed, and the fiendish 
 expression, the vilest worms of earth gloated over 
 the revolting exhibition of their own villainy — so 
 blinded is weak human nature warped into vicious - 
 ness. Upon the head being exhibited to the 
 multitude, it is said that no distortion was discern- 
 able in the features — there was a serenity, and a 
 sweet changeless repose in the expression that was 
 remarkable and extraordinary after such a terrible 
 death. This placid appearance of the face was so 
 perfect that it seemed to indicate the composure, to 
 the last, of that pure and highly-gif ted mind which 
 once reigned within, but which now had fled its 
 citadel for ever. What a striking contrast was that 
 sweet face in death, to those of some of the living, 
 near it, disfigured as they were by the rage of 
 animal ferocity. The blood of the murdered had 
 run from the scaffold on to the pavement, where the 
 
74 
 
 dogs were seen to lap it up, until the soldiers of a 
 brave Highland regiment, who guarded the spot, 
 were made acquainted with the circumstance. But 
 the blood of this victim of tyranny was not all lost 
 or swallowed up by the dogs or the earth. Many 
 were the persons who lingered about the place, and 
 whenever an opportunity presented itself by the 
 sentries turning their backs, some one of them was 
 seen cautiously approaching and hastily dipping his 
 handkerchief in the blood, and immediately placing 
 it in his bosom. Thus it was preserved by his 
 countrymen next their hearts, as an amulet, capable 
 of working some extraordinary charm. This relic, 
 they were conscious, was one of the sweetest and 
 fairest upon earth, and the most, precious in the 
 sight of heaven — the blood of the martyr — yes, the 
 martyr, for he who sacrifices his life for the good 
 and happiness of mankind, sacrifices it to the King 
 of the Celestial Paradise — the great Authority from 
 whence it sprung (applause). The remains of 
 Emmet being brought from the scaffold to the jail, 
 a strict injunction was given, that if not at once 
 claimed by his friends, they were to be hastily 
 consigned t6 the earth in u Bully’s Acre,” a place 
 which in ancient times had been the burial place of 
 distinguished chiefs and warriors of his country ; 
 but now a place selected for interring paupers and 
 executed criminals. The body was deposited in this 
 burial ground, in a grave beside that of Felix 
 Bourke, (another of Ireland’s illustrious rebels ) i as 
 no one came forward to claim it. The reason of 
 this was, Emmet’s friends were nearly all in 
 prison, and his acquaintances or associates were 
 afraid to come forward, as they thought it would 
 implicate them in the eyes of the government and 
 bring down the vengeance which was certain and 
 speedy ruin. But with all this cause of fear, the 
 body was translated in a very short time afterwards 
 to St. Michan’s churchyard, the burial place of the 
 Sheares’, and there re-interred with the greatest 
 privacy (hear, hear.) In this place, (though there 
 is some difference of opinion as to its certainty) 
 without almost a doubt, lie the remains of all that 
 was mortal of one of the brightest ornaments of his 
 age ; the high-souled,' pure-minded, unselfish 
 Robert Emmet ; who, though a young and ardent 
 enthusiast, yet had met in him, some of the finest 
 
75 
 
 and rarest qualities which are found perhaps but 
 once in an age to be concentrated in the same 
 being : beside his virtues or his talents, his. affable 
 and engaging deportment, procured for him where- 
 ver he went, friends and admirers while he was 
 living, aftd how that he was gone* his heroic and 
 dignified conduct and magnanimity in death, drew 
 down the sympathy of persons even in the opposing 
 ranks, and wrung an expression of sorrow or regret 
 from men of all parties. The loss of that grand 
 intellect — a bright glowing sun not slowly Retired to 
 the horizon — by degrees going down and fading 
 imperceptibly from the view, but swept from the 
 zenith in its noon- day splendour, and hurled behind 
 the hills of time, while even not a. satellite star 
 succeeded to throw . its reflected light on the 
 impenetrable gloom that its loss occasioned. This 
 exalted intellect was rudely swept away when it had 
 risen to its full height and power, when his country- 
 men were in the. most need of such a guiding light, 
 and therefore the public calamity such a loss 
 occasioned was felt the more deeply by his afflicted 
 and unfortunate country. Over the grave of this 
 bright son of Ireland, shortly after his re-interment 
 was laid horizontally a very large stone, upon which 
 not a word was inscribed — those that loved and 
 honoured him done as he bade — his last wish was 
 strictly adhered to. And still the wandering 
 patriot as he comes to lean and ponder over this 
 tomb, where the genius of Erin seems to keep watch, 
 he beholds the slab yet blank, the name unwritten 
 there except in thought, and alone traceable by 
 the foreshadowings of fancy or the cheering eye of 
 hope : — 
 
 Oh ! breathe not bis name, let it sleep in the shade, 
 Where cold and unhonour’d his relics are laid ; 
 
 Sad, silent, and dark be the tears that we shed, 
 
 As the night dew that falls on the grass o’er his 
 head. 
 
 But the night dew that falls though in silence it 
 weeps, 
 
 Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he 
 sleeps, 
 
 And the tear that we shed, though in secret it 
 rolls, 
 
 Shall long keep his memory green in our souls. 
 
76 
 
 Having now concluded the bright, brief, and 
 eventful career of Robert Emmet, we cannot con- 
 clude without gazing once more upon the object of 
 his love, that gentle and innocent being, the 
 unfortunate Sarah Curran, who in the words of the 
 Countess De Haussonville, “ in the hearts of the 
 Irish people was the widow of a hero who died for 
 their country and the object of their silent adora- 
 tion.” Having eluded the vigilance of her friends, 
 the unhappy girl stole out after nightfall, a day or 
 two after the execution, and visited the tomb ©f her 
 murdered lover. Oh ! what feeling, what anguish 
 was in that breaking heart — what indescribable 
 pain pierced the bosom of that high-spirited and 
 devoted woman as she knelt beside that rude and 
 nameless grave, while the skies seemed to weep 
 their soft dewy tears, as if in very pity over the 
 victims sacrificed to early love and undying liberty. 
 And as she clasped her fair hands, and raised her 
 deep blue streaming eyes to hep veil , as if seeking 
 that comfort from above which was denied her on 
 earth, while her agonized soul was rent and torn 
 with the convulsions of inconsolable grief, we can 
 fancy her in that silent attitude, in that lone and 
 deserted churchyard, breathing her wild lament over 
 her hero-lover’s grave : — 
 
 The joy of life lies here, 
 
 Robert aroon ; 
 
 All that my soul held dear, 
 
 Robert aroon. 
 
 Spouse of my heart ! this shrine— 
 
 “ The long lost home” of thine, 
 
 Hope’s , freedom’s, love’s, and mine l 
 Robert aroon. 
 
 But tears must fall unseen, 
 
 Robert aroon ; 
 
 The turf is not yet green, 
 
 Robert aroon. 
 
 No stone must bear thy name, 
 
 No lips thy truth proclaim, 
 
 The heart must shroud thy fame, 
 
 Robert aroon. 
 
 No minstrel’s strains for thee, 
 
 Robert aroon : 
 
 The harp must silent be, 
 
 Robert aroon. 
 
77 
 
 It must not breathe one moan, 
 
 Of pride or praise, not one, 
 
 .. Its strings have lost their tone, 
 
 Robert aroon. 
 
 The night is cold and chill, 
 
 Robert aroon ; 
 
 My heart is colder still, 
 
 Robert aroon. 
 
 But sun will never shine, 
 
 Can warm this heart of mine ; 
 
 It’s almost cold as thine, 
 
 Robert aroon. 
 
 Still would I linger here,' 
 
 Robert aroon ; 
 
 What home have I elsewhere ? 
 
 Robert aroon. 
 
 Ah! were I laid with thee, 
 
 How welcome death would be 
 
 A bridal bed to me ! 
 
 Robert aroon. 
 
 My heart had but one hope, 
 
 Robert aroon ; 
 
 It only bloomed to droop, 
 
 Robert aroon. 
 
 It never can bloom more ; 
 
 The blight has reached its core, 
 
 And all life’s joys are o’er, 
 
 Robert aroon. 
 
 A very short time elapsed after the tragical fate 
 of her noble and intrepid lover, when the poor 
 young creature left her paterrfkl roof, from which 
 she now became an outcast for ever ; having been 
 abandoned by an angry father, she sought for more 
 sweetened looks and softer words of consolation in 
 the house of a Mr. Penrose, a Quaker* who it is 
 said was involved in the affairs of ’Ninety -eight, and 
 who considered it about that period convenient to 
 leave the country for some time. This gentleman’s 
 residence was in the County Cork, and thither Miss 
 Curran, accompanied by her sister, went to seek an 
 asylum with his family, who received her into their 
 bosom with melancholy pleasure, and tried in every 
 way possible to alleviate her sorrows — but all was 
 vain ! grief had sunk too deep in her soul, and began 
 
78 
 
 soon to make its effects visible upon her health as 
 well as upon her spirits. A circumstance, which 
 partakes of the hue of romance, that happened 
 during her stay at this gentleman’s residence, shows 
 her utter dejection, silent affliction, and deep 
 solitude even in the midst of society. At a party 
 given in the house of her kind benefactor, “in a 
 moment of unconsciousness, she quitted the gay 
 circle, and seating herself at tfre foot of the stair- 
 case began, evidently unaware of what was passing 
 around her, to sing a plaintive melody that had 
 reference to her own unhappy circumstances ; she 
 had an exquisite voice, and the sad tone in which 
 she sang, soon drew around her a crowd of 
 sympathising listeners.” ^his touching circum- 
 stance is beautifully and feelingly described by the 
 exquisite pen of W ashington Irving. He relates the 
 scene, but incorrectly, as having' occurred at a 
 masquerade ball in the Retunda, instead of takiug 
 place at a party in the south of Ireland ; but his 
 description of Sarah Curran, in the broken heart , is 
 too beautiful and pathetic to be omitted. “She loved 
 him with the disinterested fervour of a woman’s 
 first and early love. When every worldly maxim 
 arrayed itself against him ; when blasted in fortune, 
 and disgrace and danger darkened around his name, 
 she loved him the more ardently for his very suffer- 
 ings (hear, hear). . If then his fate could awaken 
 the sympathy even of foes, what must have been 
 the agony of her, whose whole soul was occupied by 
 his image ? Let ^ those tell who have had the 
 portals of the tomb suddenly closed between them 
 and the being they most loved on earth — who have 
 sat at its threshold, as one shut out in the cold and 
 lonely world, whence all that was most lovely and 
 loving had departed. But, then, the horrors of such 
 a grave ! so frightful, so dishonoured ! there was 
 nothing for memory to dwell on that could soothe the 
 pang of separation-— none of those tender though 
 melancholy circumstances which endear the parting 
 sc one— n o thin g to melt sorrow into those blessed 
 tears, sent like the dews of heaven to revive the 
 heart in. the parting hour of anguish. To render 
 her widowed situation more 4esolate, she had 
 incurred her father’s displeasure by her unfortunate 
 attachment, and was an exile from the paternal 
 roof-. But could the sympathy and kind offices of 
 
79 
 
 friends have reached a spirit so shocked and driven 
 in by horror, she would have experienced no want 
 of consolation, for the Irish are proverbially a 
 people of quick and generous sensibilities. The 
 most delicate and cherishing attentions were paid 
 to her by families of wealth and distinction. She 
 was led into society, and they tried by all kind of 
 occupation and amusement to dissipate her grief, 
 and wean her from the tragical story of her love. 
 But it was all in vain. There are some strokes of 
 calamity which scathe and scorch the soul— which 
 penetrate to the vital seat of happiness — and blast 
 it, never again to put forth bud 'or blossotn. She 
 never objected to frequent the haunts of pleasure, 
 but was as much alone there as in the depths of 
 solitude ; walking about in a sad reverie, apparently 
 unconscious of the world around. She carried with 
 her an inward woe that mocked at all the blandish - 
 ments J of friendship, and heeded not the : song of 
 the ; charmer, charm he ever so wisely ! ‘The per- 
 son who told me her story had seen her at ;a 
 masquerade. There can be no exhibition of far 
 gone wretchedness mote striking and painful, than 
 to meet it in such a scene. To find it wandering 
 like a spectre, lonely and joyless, where all around 
 is gay— to see it dressed out in the trappings of 
 mirth, and looking so wan and woe begone., as if it 
 had tried in vain to cheat the poor heart into a 
 momentary forgetfulness of sorrow. After 
 Strolling through the splendid rooms and giddy 
 crowd with an air of utter abstraction, she sat 
 herself down on the steps of the orchestra, and 
 looking about for some time with a vacant air, thaf 
 showed her insensibility to the garish scene, she 
 began with the capriciousness of a sickly heart to 
 warble a, little plaintive air. She had an exquisite 
 voice ; but on this occasion it was so simple, so 
 touching, it breathed forth such a soul of 
 wretchedness, that she drew a crowd mute and 
 silent around her, and melted every one into tears;” 
 What a sad picture of human woes— what a 
 melancholy scene was this— the yrors,t of wretched- 
 ness encircled by gaiety and dressed in the livery, of 
 joy. But there was one amongst the bright circle 
 who listened intently to the unhappy girTs warb- 
 lings, whose feelings rose high above the rest— the 
 young girl had charmed his soul, and he determined 
 
80 
 
 to seek her hand, that his kind and delicate nature 
 might at least soften the pangs of her widowed 
 heart (hear, hear). This young man, who was 
 endowed with many attractions both personal and 
 mental, after some months most untiring attention 
 gained the hand of Miss Curran. The homeless 
 outcast of a father's house, thrown among strangers, 
 depending on acquaintances for kindness, and on 
 the liberality of friends for support, became, at 
 last, the wife of Major Sturgeon. “ I give you my 
 hand,” she said, “ but I cannot give you my heart, 
 
 I have none to offer.” But the gallant Major 
 sought but the one, alone, he knew the other was 
 long since entombed in the grave of her early lover. 
 The prospect of leaving Ireland was another induce- 
 ment besides gaining a protector in this marriage . 
 She longed to leave the scenes of her girlish days, 
 her happiness, her early love, and her misfortunes — 
 any land was now preferable to that : her future 
 husband was about to leave, for he was going to 
 join his regiment at Malta. The nuptials being 
 celebrated, which seemed more a bond of friendship 
 than a marriage — a covenant made between 
 sympathy and wretchedness, more than a union of 
 hearts — a disinterested being becoming a husband 
 in order to become a protector, and another becom- 
 ing a wife, to recompense kindness, and to flee 
 from scenes and associations the dearest though the 
 most painful. While the memory of her beloved 
 Robert was not forgotten (heal, hear). “ Its 
 claim,” says Madden, “ was recognised and acknow- 
 ledged by the friend and protector who had assumed 
 a husband’s title, to prove the generosity and 
 benevolence of his nature, in his care and protection 
 of one who was worthy of so much pity as well as 
 admiration.” She started with her husband for 
 Italy, but with health broken down, and symptoms 
 of decline already upon her. Admiral Napier, who 
 knew her there, speaks of her as “ the walking 
 statue.” All the care or kindness of her attentive 
 protector could not drive away the incubus that 
 pressed upon her lonely heart. The residence in a 
 fair southern climate brought about no better 
 results : — 
 
 II She is far from the land where her young hero 
 
 sleeps, 
 
 % 
 
81 
 
 And lovers are round her sighing : 
 
 But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, 
 For her heart in his grave is lying ! 
 
 She sings the wild song of her dear native plains, 
 Every note which he lov’d awaking — 
 
 Ah ! little they think, who delight in her strains, 
 How the heart of the minstrel is breaking ! 
 
 He had liv’d for his love, for his country he died, 
 They were all that to life had entwin’d him — 
 
 Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, 
 Nor long will his love stay behind him ! 
 
 Oh ! make her a grave, where the sunbeams rest, 
 When they promise a glorious morrow ; 
 
 They’ll shine o’er her sleep, like a smile from the 
 West, 
 
 From her own loved island of sorrow ! 
 
 In the sunny South, a few months after her arrival, 
 far away from friends or relatives, and the loved 
 land of her young patriot martyr, and the home of 
 her youth, the young, the amiable, the interesting 
 Miss Curran died of a broken heart. Her sad and 
 eveftitful career being closed, that husband who 
 showed such unvarying kindness up to the end, now 
 hastened to obey her last request, which was to 
 convey her to a last resting place in her native land. 
 And now like her noble lover, she is but ashes 
 mingled with Irish earth — without a monument to 
 mark the spot — like him the object ofjher affections, 
 she lies in an unknown, nameless, and neglected 
 grave — but what matter : — 
 
 “ Her sorrows are numbered — no longer she weeps, 
 Every pang she endured is requited ; 
 
 With endless delight, and in silence she sleeps, 
 
 For in death with her love she’s united. 
 
 Like Sidney he died, but his memory shall live, 
 
 In the bosoms of those who deplored him, 
 
 And Pity her purest of dew-drops 'shall give. 
 
 To the sorrows of those who adored him. 
 
 For he loved — was beloved ! but, alas ; in his bloom, 
 The ordeal of fate here sore tried him ; 
 
 And his spirit took flight from the world of gloom, 
 To that glory that here was denied him. 
 
82 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 From the regions of bliss— -the high heaven above — 
 Where sorrows can never invade him, 
 
 He saw her distress and he beckoned his love 
 To ascend and with joy she obeyed him. 
 
 And she who is joined to the spirit she mourned, 
 Now in bliss, ’tis in vain to deplore her ; 
 
 For her mem’ry shall live in their bosoms inurned, 
 Who vowed even in death to adore her. 
 
 Whether hero, or lover, or else, matters not, 
 
 Other times — other men will divine him ; 
 
 Let him rest With his love by the world forgot, 
 
 We have hearts large enough to enshrine him.” 
 
 And thus we close the saddened scene, over the 
 sorrows of devoted love, and the sacrifice of the 
 brightest ornaments of society driven to rebellion by 
 the baseness of an unprincipled government : — 
 
 “ Rebellion ! foul, dishonouring word, 
 
 Whose wrongful blight so oft has stained 
 The holiest cause that tongue or sword 
 Of mortal ever lost or gained. 
 
 How many a spirit born to bless, 
 
 Has sunk beneath that withering name, 
 
 Whom but a day’s, an hour’s success, 
 
 Had wafted to eternal fame.” 
 
 J * ' 1 i * a, » I ! 1 i t [ < f . > • • I i • • i 7 , / 
 
 (Applause). I have now closed the eventful record 
 of him, whose remembrance is cherished in the 
 Irish heart in a way in which that of no other man 
 has ever been. His memory is green in the Irish 
 soul, and as fresh as the day when both the old and 
 the young stole to the spot where his murdered 
 corse had been lately taken from, there, 
 unperceived by the guards, to dip their handker- 
 chiefs in his olood, to be placed hastily next their 
 heart as relics to be treasured there for ever. 
 Sixty -six years have passed by since his young life 
 was offered up for Ireland, yet his memory is as 
 fervently and reverentially cherished, and his 
 principles as proudly perpetuated, as ever they were, 
 since his lifeless form was borne secretly to its last 
 resting place, beneath the blank slab, where yet is 
 to be inscribed the unwritten epitaph (applause). 
 His history is one which awakens an interest in the 
 Irish heart above all others — not that Ireland has 
 
83 
 
 been, meagre in her patriots or her martyrs to the 
 cause of liberty, even when the gibbet was the 
 insignia of England’s justice, the. jailer the exponent 
 of Britain’s mildest sway, and the grim headsman 
 her high priest of liberty (hear, hear.) Ireland can 
 recount a lbng list^of names of brave men who have 
 laid down their lives in the cause ; perhaps she is 
 as prolific, for her extent, as any country in the 
 world, in patriots and martyrs, who have suffered 
 and shed their blood in her cause ; but, from 
 amongst them ail, Emmet stands out pre-eminent — 
 stands out with such a halo of romance about him ; 
 so youthful, so guileless, so enthusiastic, so brave ; 
 with such rare qualities of head and heart, with 
 such high hopes and deep affections, with such 
 simplicity of nature, joined to such rare and 
 natural transcendent endowment ; while the stormy 
 history of his political life, the touching story of 
 his love, and the recollection of his melancholy 
 and tragic fate, awaken emotions and touch chords 
 in the Irish heart that only the history of Emmet 
 can awaken. He is the Wallace of Ireland, and of 
 all who have fought and bled for her — like the 
 hero of Scotland in his native land — -none has 
 thrown such an air of romance over his history , none 
 has been endowed with such rare and varied quali- 
 ties, none have been so sweetly enshrined in the 
 lucid amber of Ireland’s memory, for none have 
 ever had such extensive claims upon her sympathies 
 (applause). Poland had her Koskiusco, Switzerland 
 her Tell, Genoa her Andrew Doria, Greece her 
 Leonidas, Rome her Cincinatus, the Tyrol its Hofer, 
 Scotland her Wallace, and the two great divisions 
 of the New World their Bolivar and their Washing- 
 ton ; but of all this bright array of names of heroic 
 men, all of whom have risked, and some of whom 
 have lost everything for the love of their native 
 land, there is none comes forth, robed in such a 
 witching mantle of romance, none whose affecting 
 story thrills the human heart with such loveable 
 emotion, while it awakens an interest in the history 
 of patriotism. — an interest peculiarly, absolutely his 
 own. None are so fondly, so tenderly remembered, 
 and his affecting tale, which has been so often wept 
 over by the maid and the mother, the schoolboy and 
 the warrior, has been faithfully recorded in prose , 
 while the profound emotions of reverence for his 
 
84 
 
 memory have been embalmed by his friend and 
 schoolfellow, u the sweetest lyrist of Erin’s saddest 
 wrongs,” in the choicest snatches of poetry, allied 
 to some of the sweetest strains of his native land, 
 the most beautiful and soul thrilling music in the 
 world. While prose and verse have wafted his 
 fame and his memory to the farthest limits of the 
 earth, from the inhospitable shores of Labrador, 
 to the rich praries of Bolivia, or the fertile savan- 
 nahs of Uruguay ; from the golden fields of Cali- 
 fornia or New Zealand, to the fair Eblana, where he 
 offered up a holocaust to liberty — wherever an Irish- 
 man is to be found — no other memory is so fondly # 
 cherished, no other name so often remembered 
 (hear, and applause.) As we stand by the graves of 
 neroes and of martyrs, as we droop over the tombs 
 of patriots, to ponder over the actions and the 
 histor) of the tenants who lie in dreamless slumber 
 beneath our feet, there is none calls forth such 
 sweet and tender associations, none that brings 
 forth such hallowed memories, that' awakens such 
 melancholy and deep interest, and that claims so 
 strongly our sympathies, as that of Robert Emmet— 
 the unpretending grave, recognised by its modest 
 blank slab, on which remains to be inscribed the yet 
 unwritten epitaph ! (Applause) . 
 
 I. 
 
 “ Pray, tell me,” I said to an old man who stray’d , 
 Drooping over the graves which his own hand hath 
 made, 
 
 “ Pray, tell me the name of the tenant who sleeps 
 Beneath yonder lone stone, where the sad willow 
 weeps ? 
 
 Every stone is engraved with the name of the dead, 
 But yon blank slab declares not whose spirit is 
 fled.” 
 
 ii. 
 
 In silence he bowed, then he beckoned me nigh. 
 
 Till we stood o’er the grave — then he said with a 
 sigh : 
 
 “ Yes, they dare not to trace e’en a word on that 
 stone, 
 
 To the memory of him who sleeps coldly and lone ; 
 He told them — commanded — the lines o’er his 
 grave 
 
 Should never be traced by the hand of a slave ! 
 
85 
 
 in. 
 
 “ He bade them to shade e’en his name in the 
 gloom, 
 
 Till the morning of freedom should dawn on his 
 tomb ; 
 
 i When the flag of my country for liberty flies, 
 Then, then let my name and my monument rise !’ 
 You see they obeyed him — ’tis sixty-six years, 
 
 And they come still to moisten his grave with their 
 tears. 
 
 IV. 
 
 He was young, like yourself, and aspired to o’er- 
 throw 
 
 The tyrant, who filled his loved island with woe ; 
 They crushed his bold spirit — this earth was con- 
 fined, 
 
 Too scant for the range of his luminous mind.” 
 
 He paused, and the old man went slowly away, 
 
 And I felt as he left me an impulse to pray. 
 
 Grant heaven ! I may see, ere my own days are 
 done, 
 
 A monument rise o’er my country’s great son, 
 
 And, oh ! proudest task, be it mine to indite, 
 
 The long delay’d tribute a freeman must write ; 
 Till then shall its theme in my heart deeply dwell, 
 So, peace to thy slumber, dear shade, fare thee well. 
 
 (Loud applause). 
 
 At the close of the lecture 
 
 The Rev Mr Glynn on rising to propose the vote of 
 thanks was received with loud and prolouged cheers 
 He said, it afforded him great pleasure to propose the 
 resolution, that the marked thanks ot St Peter’s Ypung 
 Men’s Society and of that meeting, were justly due and 
 thereby given to G H Kirk, Esq, for the very interest- 
 ing course of lectures concluded on that evening (loud 
 applause). As he (Rev Mr Glynn) entered the room 
 that evening, the resolution was handed to him, and he 
 was asked to propose it. That duty he readily under- 
 took, having been a delighted listener to the series of 
 lectures so admirably brought to a close that evening 
 But he should say, that had he known^that so many rev 
 gentlemen, better qualified than he was to address them 
 would be present, he would have had the resolution 
 committed into better hands. The duty that devolved on 
 him, was however, a light one in this respect ; it was 
 one that needed no persusive force to gain it at their 
 bands, the heartiest reception (loud cheers). He might 
 
86 
 
 well say that the resolution was a true bill, because he 
 felt that he only expressed in the plainest toms, their 
 sentiments when he said that they were grateful to Mr 
 Kirk tor bis highly eloquent, learned, and instructive, 
 lectures (loud cheers). Mr Kirk is an able lecturer 
 (applause). He had listened to the three lectures and 
 he must say that Mr Kirk bad delighted and instructed 
 his audience (loud cheers). Ireland has had her long 
 years of blood and tears. Her martyrs were number- 
 less ; aye, they might be counted by millions. From her 
 martyrology Mr Kirk had selected one bright and en- 
 during name— the highly gifted, brave, disinterested, 
 high soul’d Robert Emmet (great cheering). Mr Kirk’s 
 object was to instruct the young men of Drogheda* .and 
 he did not know any subject that could do that better, 
 that could teach the lesson of devotion to their native land 
 sacrifice for their country, singleness of purpose, high 
 and ennobing sentiments, above allselfish aim, than that 
 set forth, in glowing eloquence, in the.se lectures on* the 
 life and times of Robert Emmet (loud and prolonged 
 cheers). Who was Robert Emmet ? Emmet was a 
 young man well born, a young man of genius, a young 
 man endowed with extraordinary talents, a young man 
 who could have attained to any position that an alien 
 government could confer upon him. But Emmet re- 
 fused-all, he spurned every advance made to him ; he 
 said so long as the heel of oppression crushed hjs native 
 land, he would never disgrace himself by taking any 
 position that that Government could bestow (loud 
 cheers). Mr Kirk deserved any thanks . they could offer 
 him; his lecture had imbued the young men of Dro- 
 gheda with patriotism, fired them with its an ennobling 
 spirit, taught them that any sacrifices they could make 
 for country should be readily made for it* and that their 
 native land, should be next to religion the 
 dearest object of their hearts (tremendous cheer- 
 ing). When the young men of Ireland shall have 
 those principles engraven on their hearts, then, indeed 
 the unwritten tomb ofEmmet will not long remain unin- 
 scribed (loud cheers). It was not an easy thing called on 
 unexpectedly as he was to propose a vote of thanks that 
 would fully meet the occasion. He had, however, done 
 his best (loud cheers). In conclusion it gave him great 
 pleasure to propose the vote of thanks so richly due.. 
 The Reverend gentleman resumed his seat amidst cheers, 
 again and again repeated. 
 
 Mr Peter Johnson, Secretary to the Society, in suit- 
 able term 8, seconded the vote of thanks. 
 
 The Chairman who was greeted with rounds of ap- 
 plause, said it afforded him very great pleasure to put 
 the resolution from the chair. After the eloquent man- 
 
87 
 
 ner in which it had been proposed by his esteemed 
 friend Father Glynn and seconded by Mr Johnson, it 
 would be useless for him to detain them, or add any 
 thing to what had been so well said. He had only to 
 repeat .that the society owed lasting gratitude to Mr 
 Kirk for his instructive series] of lectures (cheers) . 
 He was sure they were all proud of him as an Irishman 
 and a native of Drogheda (cheer s).* He need only put 
 the vote of thanks to the meeting whioh he was sure 
 they would cordially endorse (loud applause). It would 
 not be very long he trusted until they would again be 
 favoured by a lecture from Mr Kirk (cheers). 
 
 Mr Kirk who was again received with applause, in 
 acknowledging the vote of thanks, said that he had only 
 to return his heartfelt acknowldgment for that very 
 flattering resolution to the enlightened audience, to 
 Father M ( Kee who had so well filled his position, to the 
 the reverend gentleman, Father Glynn and also Mr 
 Johnson who had so ably and eloquently proposed that 
 over flattering resolution. He felt that he should not 
 have such encomiums passed on him ; he felt that he did 
 not merit them. He had also to return his sincere 
 thanks to some reverend gentlemen and othqr parties 
 who had come a very long distance to hear him (ap- 
 plause). He would treasure up the fond remembrance of 
 that evening as of the other evenings when they had 
 cheered him on in the labour of love which he had to 
 the best of his ability performed (applause). These were 
 pleasing incidents to be treasured up in the future. But 
 while tendering them his heartfelt acknowledgments 
 there was one thing he would wish to speak about, if he 
 had not already taxed tneir patience too much (no, no, 
 go on); He wished tc speak of the reasons that in- 
 fluenced him in the choice of a subject. He had read 
 the history of his country, in the ancient annal and in 
 the modern compilation ; but wnosoever the author or 
 whatsoever the form, there could be traced one invari- 
 ably policy of injustice that marked English rule in this 
 country. There was an incident connected with his own 
 family history, arising out of this same policy of oppres- 
 sion and illustrating it, which had impressed itself 
 strongly on his mind. One of his ancestors, dispossessed 
 of his property, was obliged to seek the shelter of a 
 fisherman’s hut at Clogher Head, and while his son who 
 had been driven from a comfortable home, was returning 
 from the market of Drogheda he was shot down, outside 
 Laurence’s Gate, by a drunken soldier, for the amuse- 
 ment of his brutal companions (sensation). Circum- 
 stances like to that impress themselves on the mind 
 and cannot be forgotten. Though, however they could 
 not forget, they could forgive (leud applause). 
 
 * 
 
88 
 
 Was it because an ancestor of his had been shot down in 
 other days, that he was to seek vengeance on the descen- 
 dant of him who shot him ? No : they should forgive 
 all, and be ready even to grasp the hand of the ancient 
 foemanfor the sake of their native land (loud applause): 
 In the words of Banim— 
 
 The old man who stood at the altar 
 His enemy’s hand to take, 
 
 And at first his weak voice did falter, 
 
 And his feeble hand did shake. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 And then crying tears like a woman, 
 
 4 Your hand’ he said ‘ aye, that hand, 
 
 And I do forgive you foeman, 
 
 For sake of our bleeding land’ (cheers). 
 
 Why he had chosen Robert Emmet as his subject more 
 particularly was, because one of Emmet’s guiding prin- 
 ciple was that the only hope for the salvation of Ire- 
 land was in the union of Irishmen of all creeds and 
 parties (applause). Emmet, although a revolutionist, 
 was not a man of blood. It suited the purpose of cer- 
 tain writers to seek to cast obliquy on that high spirit 
 as a visionary and rash enthusiast. Emmet reckoned 
 that there were 100,000 Irishmen in the army and 
 navy, and he argued that a victory once gained, the 
 Irish soldiers would fraternise with the people. These 
 facts should in fairness be stated when it was sought by 
 unmeasured obliquy to dim the laurels wreathed round 
 his immortal brow (applause). Looking at that history 
 of the past, the boasted constitution was a tissue of 
 falsehood and humbug, a repetition of shooting down or 
 starving the people. Even coming down to a very re- 
 cent period, in their own day they had two millions, at 
 least, of the Irish race done for, either slain at home, 
 or taking refuge in a foreign land. Not many years 
 ago the country was favoured by a visit from a 
 British statesman, Earl Russell, better known as Lord 
 John the Boy (laughter). He came during these days 
 of depopulation and had the temerity to insult the 
 country by drinking prosperity to Ireland. He drank 
 the toast, however, in a very appropriate place— the 
 Devil’s Glen (laughter). They would recollect the 
 words of Earl Russell ; in 1860 he said that every na- 
 tion misgoverned and persecuted has a right to throw 
 off the detested yoke (applause). That was Earl 
 Russell’s teaching, and was exactly Emmet’s doctrine j 
 These were the sentiments he died for (cheers s 
 and the government that shed that young martyr*. 
 
89 
 
 blood has since, from tho forum, sent forth these 
 sentiments as immortal truths (applause). But there 
 has been a reservation ; they are truths for other nations, 
 but not for Ireland, i$o far as the past, they might say 
 of their boasted constitution that its freedom was a 
 sham, its justice a theory, and its love of Ireland the 
 greatest farce of all (cheers). But a new era is about to 
 dawn which has been ushered in by the levelling of a 
 dominant church, which although called a sentimental 
 grievance would yet tend to effect a union amongst all 
 Irishmen (applause). Next, they were to have a good 
 land bill. As a tenant farmer he said that fixity of 
 tenure was their sheet anchor (hear, and cheers). Mr 
 Gladstone says he will give a good bill ; there was one 
 thing, however, in which he had falsefied his words — 
 he had failed to govern Ireland according to Irish ideas. 
 In conclusion he thanked tho audience for the very kind 
 way in which they had received him. He did not take 
 it as due or paid to himself, but atribute it to this 
 — that he had brought before them a truly national 
 subject (applause). But taking it so, he was not the 
 less pleased the less grateful, for it showed that Irish 
 patriotism is not dead, and that Drogheda patriotism 
 still pulsates strongly. Mr Kirk retired amidst loud 
 plaudits. 
 
 The chairman desired to make one brief remark. 
 As the name of Earl Russell had been introduced, he 
 would remind them that Earl Russell was in power in 
 ’64, and they all knew how he acted when, to test 
 his sincerity, he was asked to apply his principles to 
 Ireland. He then referred to the manner in which tho 
 jury panel was dealt with at the Cork special commission 
 as an illustration of what may take place under 
 constitutional government. 
 
 The audience then separated. 
 
d CBBW f 
 



 
 
 
 
nil llmtt of Robert Emmet : a lectu 
 
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