proceeded to annul the papal power, and to declare Henry VIII. of England the supreme head on earth of the church in Ireland. Every person who refused to take the oath of supremacy was declared guilty of high treason. But to re

sist these usurpations, confederacies were formed all over the kingdom; and it was not till the year 1551, that the English liturgy was performed in the Irish churches. But in spite of all the coercive measures of the English government, the bulk of the nation steadily adhered to their ancient faith, and the cause of religion became the cause of the nation. The attempts to force the people to renounce a faith which they had received from St. Patrick, and to adopt a new system of religion with an English ritual, naturally became blended with the national prejudices against English oppression, and coöperated to produce the famous insurrection of Tyrone.

The conduct of James I. estranged the affection of the Irish; and during the reign of Charles I. another rebellion broke out, which deluged the country with blood. Cromwell undertook to crush out the restive spirit of the nation by the trampling heel of military power. His cruelties toward the people are almost incredible. During his sway, twenty thousand Irish

men were sold as slaves, and forty thousand entered into foreign service to escape from tyranny at home.

The distracted state of this unhappy kingdom in 1688 can hardly be described. It was then the theatre of one of the fiercest civil wars that ever raged in any country. The Catholics declared for James, and the Protestants for William, prince of Orange. The battle of the Boyne, on the first of July, 1690, decided the fate of James, who fled to France. William acceded to the British throne; and heavy indeed were the punishments inflicted on the Catholics, who had taken part with the now defeated and exiled Stuart. The number of Irish subjects outlawed on this occasion amounted to nearly four hundred thousand, and their lands confiscated were more than a million and a half of

acres.

In 1798, the injured Irish, deprived of the enjoyment of their dearest rights, and condemned to political disabilities on account of professing the Catholic religion, once more rebelled. This event was within the memory of many who are still living; and we have seen in our own time one distinguished leader of that rebellion, having escaped from the pur

suit of tyranny, seeking a home, and at last a resting-place, on our American shores. I speak of the late Thomas Addis Emmet, of New York. After the failure of their schemes, he and his associates were taken, tried, and condemned. Some were executed, and some transported; but he was himself permitted to escape from prison, by the jailer, and it is supposed by the connivance of the British government. After many vicissitudes, he came to this country, and engaged in the profession of the law. His great learning, his powerful intellect, and his masterly eloquence, soon raised him to the highest honors of his profession. His mind was indeed haunted with recollections of his country and his home, and sometimes these bitter memories would find utterance. But in general, he displayed a character of great gentleness and generosity; and becoming an American citizen, he adopted the customs and feelings of our country. He died in 1827.

Robert Emmet, the brother of this distinguished individual, was concerned in the rebellion of 1803, but his fate was more melancholy. He was a lawyer; young, ardent, and full of talent. Greatly beloved for his virtues, and intensely admired for his genius, he became

a leader among the conspirators. With the rest he was detected, seized, and brought to trial. Before his judge he defended himself, with admirable dignity, eloquence, and power. Knowing that his fate was sealed, he sought not to save his life, but only to shelter his name and fame from after infamy. "Though you, my lord," said he, "sit there a judge, and I stand here a culprit, yet you are but a man, and I am another. I have a right, therefore, to vindicate my character and motives from the aspersions of calumny; and as a man to whom fame is dearer than life, I will make the last use of that life in rescuing my name and my memory from the afflicting imputation of having been a traitor to my native land.”

He then proceeded with a stirring appeal to his countrymen, and finally closed his defence in the following words: "My lamp of life is nearly extinguished; my race is finished. The fresh grave will be soon ready to receive me, and I shall sink into its bosom. All I request at parting from the world is the charity of its silence. Let no man write my epitaph; for as no man, who knows my motives, dare defend them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Let them and me repose in obscurity and peace, and

my tomb remain undescribed, till other times and other men can do justice to my character."

Such was the lofty and intrepid bearing of Robert Emmet, then but twenty-four years old, in the hopeless hour of condemnation. But this could not save him; and he perished on the scaffold. The circumstances which attended his fate, however, entered into every generous bosom, and even his enemies lamented the stern policy which dictated his execution. "But there was one heart whose anguish it would be impossible to describe. In happier days, and fairer fortunes, Emmet had won the affections of a beautiful and interesting girl, the daughter of the celebrated Curran. She loved him with the fervor of a woman's first and only 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 sufferings. Exiled from home by a father's stern decree, and haunted by the memory of her lover's dishonored grave; with nothing to soothe the pang of separation, nothing to melt sorrow into those blessed tears, sent like dews to revive the parched bosom in the hour of anguish,- she gradually wasted away, and died the victim of a