been pronounced, Mr. Mitchel, in a clear, firm, and manly voice, then spoke as follows, amidst a solemn hush of breathless excitement:

"The law has done its part, and the Queen of England, her crown, and government in Ireland, are now secure, pursuant to act of Parliament. I have done my part also. Three months ago, I promised Lord Clarendon and his government, in this country, that I would provoke him into his courts of justice, as places of this kind are called, and that I would force him publicly and notoriously to pack a jury against me to convict me, or else that I would walk a freeman out of this court, and provoke him to a contest in another field. My lord, I knew I was setting my life on that cast; but I knew that in either event the victory should be with me, and it is with me. Neither the jury, nor the judges, nor any other man in this court, presumes to imagine that it is a criminal who stands in this dock. (Murmurs of applause which the police endeavored to suppress.) I have shown what the law is made of in Ireland; I have shown that her Majesty's government sustains itself in Ireland by packed juries, by partisan judges, by perjured sheriffs."

BARON LEFROY.-"The court cannot sit here to hear you arraign the jurors of the country, the sheriffs, or the country, the administration of justice, the tenure by which the Crown of England holds this country. We cannot sit here to suffer you to proceed thus, because the trial is over. Everything you had to say previous to the judgment, the court was ready to hear, and did hear. We cannot suffer you to stand at the bar to repeat, I must say, very nearly a repetition of the offence for which you have been sentenced."

MR. MITCHEL. "I will not say any more of that kind; but I this".

say

BARON LEFROY." Anything you wish to say we will hear; but I trust you will keep yourself within the limits which your own judgment must suggest to you."

MR. MITCHEL. "I have acted all through this business from the first, under a strong sense of duty. I do not repent anything I have done, and I believe the cause which I have opened is only commenced. 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?"

As Mr. Mitchel pronounced the words one, two and three, he pointed to the friends behind him. The men thus solemnly indicated were Messrs. Meagher, Reilly, and O'Gorman. He then raised his eye with a proud glance, and recognising others in all parts of the court, he added with eagerness, "aye, for hundreds."

Several voices in the vicinage of the dock simultaneously, and with deep solemnity, cried "thousands," "and promise for me.' The words were taken up all through the court, and for some minutes the building resounded with "for me," "and for me, Mitchel," "and for me, too."

Scarcely were the echoes in the court-room silent before Mitchel, carried off in chains, with a strong force of cavalry, was put on board an attendant steamer, and bound for his destination. He was taken to Spike Island, in the Cove of Cork, afterwards to Bermuda, where he spent a year of “ pense, agony, and meditation." After a five months voyage, he was next at the Cape of Good Hope, for five months, in a "close, unclean and unhealthy cavity under the poop of the

sus

408 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND OFF-HAND TAKINGS.

Neptune," when the Home Government ordered him-fearing he should instigate, even by his presence, the excited men of the Cape to rebellion-to Van Diemen's Land. With the assistance of Mr. P. J. Smyth, sent from America, by the friends of Mitchel, the Irish Revolutionist effected his escape in the middle of last year, and landed in San Francisco towards the close of October, where he met with the most rapturous reception. He immediately proceeded to New York, and has taken up his residence in the city of Brooklyn, L. I., with his family and friends around him.

I am indebted to one of Mr. Mitchel's personal friends for the above graphic and beautiful sketch. It must have been written before the gifted patriot sacrificed himself on the altar of American slavery. John Mitchel, in Ireland, was a republican, a hero, and a patriot. Had he died there, or in the land of his banishment, he would have been honored as a martyr to liberty; but he unfortunately came to America, and, in a fit of passion, wrote an infamous paragraph, which went like a dagger into the very heart of freedom. Being too proud or too obstinate to retract, the indignation of the people of this country came down upon him like an avalanche. I cannot allow the above to appear in the pages of my book, without uttering a protest against his views of American slavery.

THE END.