k days for Ireland.
Her parliament was gone, and in the blighting shade of the provincialism
to which she was reduced, genius and courage seemed to have died out
from the land. Thousands of her bravest and most devoted children had
perished in her cause--some on the scaffold, and others on the field of
battle--and many whose presence at home would have been invaluable to
her were obliged to seek safety in exile. So Erin, the crownless Queen,
sat in the dust with fetters on her limbs, her broken sword fallen from
her hand, and with mournful memories lying heavy on her heart. The
feelings of disappointment and grief then rankling in every Irish
breast are well mirrored in that plaintive song of our national poet,
which open with these tristful lines:---

"'Tis gone, and for ever, the light we saw breaking,
Like heaven's first dawn o'er the sleep of the dead,
When man, from the slumber of ages awaking,
Looked upward and blessed the pure ray ere it fled.
'Tis gone, and the gleams it has left of its burning
But deepen the long night of bondage and mourning,
That dark o'er the kingdoms of earth is returning,
And darkest of all, hapless Erin, o'er thee."

[Illustration: WILLIAM S. O'BRIEN. JOHN MITCHEL. JOHN MARTIN.]

In this gloomy condition of affairs there was nothing for Irish
patriotism to do except to seek for the removal, by constitutional
means, of some of the cruel grievances that pressed on the people.
Emancipation of the Catholics from the large remainder of the penal laws
that still degraded and despoiled them was one of the baits held out by
Mr. Pitt when playing his cards for the Union; but not long had the
Irish parliament been numbered with the things that were, when it became
evident that the minister was in no hurry to fulfil his engagement, and
it was found necessary to take some steps for keeping him to his
promise. Committees were formed, meetings were held, speeches were made,
resolutions were adopted, and all the machinery of parliamentary
endeavour was put in motion. The leaders of the Catholic cause in this
case, like those of the national cause in the preceding years, were
liberal-minded Protestant gentlemen; but as time wore on, a young
barrister from Kerry, one of the old race and the old faith, took a
decided lead amongst them, and soon became its recognised champion, the
elect of the nation, the "man of the people." Daniel O'Connell stood
forth, with the whole m