with, he was arrested on a fresh charge of “treason-felony”—­a new crime, which had been manufactured by Act of Parliament a few weeks before.  He was, therefore, fast in the toils, and with but little chance of escape.  Little concern did this give the brave-hearted patriot, who only hoped and prayed that at last the time had come when his countrymen would launch out upon the resolute course of action which he had so earnestly recommended to them.  From his cell in Newgate, on the 16th of May, he addressed to them one of his most exciting letters, of which the following are the concluding passages:—­

“For me, I abide my fate joyfully; for I know that, whatever betide me, my work is nearly done.  Yes; Moral Force and ’Patience and Perseverance’ are scattered to the wild winds of heaven.  The music my countrymen now love best to hear is the rattle of arms and the ring of the rifle.  As I sit here and write in my lonely cell, I hear, just dying away, the measured tramp of ten thousand marching men—­my gallant confederates, unarmed and silent, but with hearts like bended bow, waiting till the time comes.  They have marched past my prison windows, to let me know there are ten thousand fighting men in Dublin—­’felons’ in heart and soul.

“I thank God for it.  The game is afoot at last.  The liberty of Ireland may come sooner or later, by peaceful negotiation or bloody conflict—­but it is sure; and wherever between the poles I may chance to be, I will hear the crash of the downfall of the thrice-accursed British Empire.”

On Monday, May 22nd, 1848, the trial of Mr. Mitchel commenced in the Commission Court, Green-street, before Baron Lefroy.  He was eloquently defended by the veteran lawyer and uncompromising patriot, Robert Holmes, the brother-in-law of Robert Emmet.  The mere law of the case was strong against the prisoner, but Mr. Holmes endeavoured to raise the minds of the jury to the moral view of the case, upon which English juries have often acted regardless of the letter of the Act of Parliament.  With a jury of Irishmen impartially chosen it would have been a good defence, but the Castle had made sure of their men in this case.  At five o’clock on the evening of the 26th, the case went to the jury, who, after an absence of two hours, returned into court with a verdict of “Guilty.”

That verdict was a surprise to no one.  On the day the jury was empanelled, the prisoner and every one else knew what it was to be.  It was now his turn to have a word to say for himself, and he spoke, as was his wont, in plain terms, answering thus the question that had been put to him:—­