and lifts his hand, in the name of God, against the throat of his fellow who believes or doubts a little more or a little less than the government standard—­a government which is steeled to barbarity by the cries of the orphans, and the tears of the widows it has made.”

   [Here Lord Norbury interrupted Mr. Emmet, saying—­“that the mean and
   wicked enthusiasts who felt as he did, were not equal to the
   accomplishment of their wild designs.”]

“I appeal to the immaculate God—­I swear by the Throne of Heaven, before which I must shortly appear—­by the blood of the murdered patriots who have gone before me—­that my conduct has been, through all this peril, and through all my purposes, governed only by the conviction which I have uttered, and by no other view than that of the emancipation of my country from the superinhuman oppression under which she has so long and too patiently travailed; and I confidently hope that, wild and chimerical as it may appear, there is still union and strength in Ireland to accomplish this noblest of enterprises.  Of this I speak with confidence, of intimate knowledge, and with the consolation that appertains to that confidence.  Think not, my lords, I say this for the petty gratification of giving you a transitory uneasiness.  A man who never yet raised his voice to assert a lie, will not hazard his character with posterity, by asserting a falsehood on a subject so important to his country, and on an occasion like this.  Yes, my lords, a man who does not wish to have his epitaph written until his country is liberated, will not leave a weapon in the power of envy, or a pretence to impeach the probity which he means to preserve, even in the grave, to which tyranny consigns him.”

   [Here he was again interrupted by the court]

“Again I say, that what I have spoken was not intended for your lordship, whose situation I commisserate rather than envy—­my expressions were for my countrymen.  If there is a true Irishman present, let my last words cheer him in the hour of his affliction.”

   [Here he was again interrupted.  Lord Norbury said he did not sit
   there to hear treason.]

“I have always understood it to be the duty of a judge, when a prisoner has been convicted, to pronounce the sentence of the law.  I have also understood that judges sometimes think it their duty to hear with patience, and to speak with humanity; to exhort the victim of the laws, and to offer, with tender benignity, their opinions of the motives by which he was actuated in the crime of which he was adjudged guilty.  That a judge has thought it his duty so to have done, I have no doubt; but where is the boasted freedom of your institutions—­where is the vaunted impartiality, clemency, and mildness of your courts of justice if an unfortunate prisoner, whom your policy, and not justice, is about to deliver into the hands of the executioner, is not suffered to explain