infully instructing in the domestic arts of civilized life, took
up arms against our Government, our laws, and ruthlessly pursued the
innocent with fire and sword! The race of the old faith of the true St.
Patrick, fresh from the 'Isle of Saints,' from which he had himself
exiled all copperheads and venomous reptiles, blessed with good and true
Priests of the old Religion, with the sweet face of the Blessed Virgin
Mary to smile down upon them in their chapels, teaching them reverence
for womanhood, and feeding as they firmly believe upon the glorified
Body which is hourly broken to exalt and purify humanity, fell in fierce
assault upon us. Men from the land of Burke, Curran, Emmet, Moore,
Meagher, rose to pillage, burn, and assassinate! Irishmen, afraid to
fight for the country which had adopted them as sons! massacring their
benefactors! trailing Old Erin's loyal harp for the _first time_ in the
dust! bringing shame on the glorious Emerald Isle, and sorrow to the
struggling country which had given them a home! Irishmen, taking the
laws in their own hands, trampling our Stars beneath their feet--that
flag which had first assured them they were men, citizens, with a
_right_ to home and happiness! What wonder that we fail to recognize the
strong, sturdy, brave, heady, helpful, generous, and impulsive children
of the 'Gem of the Sea?' And what shall we say of the venerated
Archbishop?

'By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly,
That fill his ears with traitorous, murderous rumors.'

Alas! the worst is not yet told. Irishmen and Irishwomen, with the sad
face of the Mother of the Lord for ever teaching them pity from their
altars, fell like fiends from hell upon the unfortunate negro, driving
him, a child of Christ, from the poor home he had won with so much toil;
robbing him of all he possessed; burning his miserable refuge;
frightening into madness his patient wife; braining his children;
hounding the panic-stricken unfortunate from street to street, and
torturing, mutilating, drowning, and assassinating him! For what, in the
name of Heaven? Because he breathed the air of his native land, and
dared to pray to the God that made him; because he wanted work for his
black and brawny arm, to support his cheerful black wife, and his jolly,
woolly-headed children!

'Go back; the _virtue of your name_
Is not here passable!' 'A thousand knees
Six thousand years together, naked, fasting,
Upon a barren