he administration of justice, the tenure by which the crown of
England holds that country. The trial was over. Everything the prisoner
had to say previous to the judgment, the court was ready to hear, and
did hear. They could not suffer him (Mr. Mitchel) to stand at that bar
to repeat, very nearly, a repetition of the offence for which he had
been sentenced."

"I will not say," Mr. Mitchel continued, "anything more of that kind.
But I say this--"

Lefroy again interrupted him, to the effect that, within certain limits
the prisoner might proceed.

"I have acted," he then said, "I have acted all through this business,
from the first, under a strong sense of duty. I do not regret anything I
have done, and I believe that the course which I have opened is only
commenced. The Roman," he continued in one of those bursts of eloquence,
with which he used to electrify men, stretching forth his clenched hand
and arm, "the Roman who saw his hand burning to ashes before the tyrant,
promised that three hundred should follow out his enterprise. Can I not
promise for one, for two, for three, aye for hundreds?"

Here he pointed to his friends, Reilly, Martin, and Meagher. A burst of
wild enthusiasm followed.

"Officer! officer! remove Mr. Mitchel," was heard from Lefroy. A rush
was made on the dock, and the foremost ranks sprung from the galleries,
with out-stretched arms to vow with him too. The judges rushed in terror
from the benches--the turnkeys seized the hero, and in a scene of wild
confusion he half walked, and was half forced through the low, dark
door-way in the rear, waving his hand in a quiet farewell. The bolts
grated, the gate slammed, and he was seen no more.

Men stood in affright, and looked in each others' faces wonderingly.
They had seen a Roman sacrifice in this modern world, and they were
mute.

An hour elapsed--the excited crowd had passed away; and the partisan
judges, nervous and ill at ease, ventured upon the bench again.

They were seated, and seemed to be settling down to get through
"business" as well as they could, when Mr. Holmes, whose defence of Mr.
Mitchel had been so offensive to them, rose. "My lords," he said, "I
think I had a perfect right to use the language I did yesterday. I wish
now to state that what I said yesterday as an advocate, I adopt to-day,
as my own opinion. I here avow all I have said; and, perhaps, under this
late Act of Parliament, her Majesty's Attorney-General, if I have