necessary, and accordingly the procession recommenced its journey by
passing through the open gates of the cemetery down the pathways
leading to the M'Manus grave, followed by some of the bands playing
the "Adeste Fidelis." As fast as the files passed through others
marched up, and when, after some time the carriage containing Mr.
John Martin arrived, the open ground fronting the cemetery was one
enormous mass of the processionists, while behind on the road leading
up to this point thousands were to be seen moving slowly forward to
the strains of the "Dead March," given out by the bands immediately
in front of the hearses.

MR. MARTIN'S ADDRESS.

On the arrival of the procession at the cemetery Mr. Martin was
hailed with loud applause. It being understood he would make some
observations, the multitude gathered together to hear him. He
addressed the vast multitude from the window of a house overlooking
the great open space in front of the cemetery. On presenting himself
he was received with enthusiastic cheering. When silence was obtained
he said:--

"Fellow-countrymen--This is a strange kind of funeral procession
in which we are engaged to-day. We are here, a vast multitude
of men, women, and children in a very inclement season of
the year, under rain and through mud. We are here escorting three
empty hearses to the consecrated last resting place of those who die
in the Lord (cheers). The three bodies that we would tenderly bear to
the churchyard, and would bury in consecrated ground with all the
solem rites of religion, are not here. They are away in a foreign and
hostile land (hear, hear), where they have been thrown into
unconsecrated ground, branded by the triumphant hatred of our enemies
as the vile remains of murderers (cries of 'no murderers,' and
cheers). Those three men whose memories we are here to-day to
honour--Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin--they were not murderers (great
cheering). [A Voice--Lord have mercy on them.] Mr. Martin--These men
were pious men, virtuous men--they were men who feared God and loved
their country. They sorrowed for the sorrows of the dear old native
land of their love (hear, hear). They wished, if possible, to save
her, and for that love and for that wish they were doomed to an
ignominious death at the hands of the British hangman (hear, hear).
It was as Irish patriots t