Mr. O’Leary continued—­“That man has charged me—­I need not defend myself or my friends from the charge.  I shall merely denounce the moral assassin.  Mr. Justice Keogh the other day spoke of revolutions, and administered a lecture to Mr. Luby.  He spoke of cattle being driven away, and of houses being burned down, that men would be killed, and so on.  I would like to know if all that does not apply to war as well as to revolution?  One word more, and I shall have done.  I have been found guilty of treason or treason-felony.  Treason is a foul crime.  The poet Dante consigned traitors to, I believe, the ninth circle of hell; but what kind of traitors?  Traitors against king, against country, against friends and benefactors.  England is not my country; I have betrayed no friend, no benefactor.  Sidney and Emmet were legal traitors, Jeffreys was a loyal man, and so was Norbury.  I leave the matter there.”

One hour after the utterance of these words John O’Leary, dressed in convict garb, his hair clipped, and his beard shaved off, was the occupant of a cell in Mountjoy prison, commencing his long term of suffering in expiation of the crime of having sought to obtain self-government for his native land.

* * * * *

JEREMIAH O’DONOVAN (ROSSA).

In one of the preceding pages we have mentioned the fact that at the Cork Summer Assizes of 1859, a conviction was recorded against Jeremiah O’Donovan (Rossa) for his complicity in the Phoenix conspiracy, and he was then released on the understanding that if he should be found engaging in similar practices, the crown would bring him up for judgment.  It is characteristic of the man that with this conviction hanging like a mill-stone about his neck, he did not hesitate to take an active and an open part with the promoters of the Fenian movement.  He travelled through various parts of Ireland in furtherance of the objects of the society; he visited America on the same mission, and when the Irish People was started he took the position of business manager in that foredoomed establishment.

He was brought into the dock immediately after John O’Leary had been taken from it; but on representing that certain documents which he had not then at hand were necessary for his defence, he obtained a postponement of his trial for a few days.  When he was again brought up for trial he intimated to the court that he meant to conduct his own defence.  And he entered upon it immediately.  He cross-examined the informers in fierce fashion, he badgered the detectives, he questioned the police, he debated with the crown lawyers, he argued with the judges, he fought with the crown side all round.  But it was when the last of the witnesses had gone off the table that he set to the work in good earnest.  He took up the various publications that had been put in evidence against him, and claimed