in which he has blessed the insurgent chivalry of the Belgian priest, His Almighty hand hath ever been stretched forth from His throne of Light to consecrate the flag of freedom—­to bless the patriot’s sword!  Be it in the defence, or be it in the assertion of a people’s liberty, I hail the sword as a sacred weapon; and if, my lord, it had sometimes taken the shape of the serpent, and reddened the shroud of the oppressor with too deep a dye, like the anointed rod of the High Priest, it has at other times, and as often, blossomed into celestial flowers to deck the freeman’s brow.

“Abhor the sword—­stigmatize the sword?  No, my lord, for in the passes of the Tyrol it cut to pieces the banner of the Bavarian, and, through those cragged passes, struck a path to fame for the peasant insurrectionists of Inspruck!  Abhor the sword—­stigmatize the sword?  No, my lord, for at its blow a giant nation started from the waters of the Atlantic, and by its redeeming magic, and in the quivering of its crimsoned light the crippled colony sprang into the attitude of a proud Republic—­prosperous, limitless, and invincible!  Abhor the sword—­stigmatize the sword?  No, my lord, for it swept the Dutch marauders out of the fine old towns of Belgium—­scourged them back to their own phlegmatic swamps—­and knocked their flag and sceptre, their laws and bayonets, into the sluggish waters of the Scheldt.

“My lord, I learned that it was the right of a nation to govern itself, not in this hall, but on the ramparts of Antwerp; I learned the first article of a nation’s creed upon those ramparts, where freedom was justly estimated, and where the possession of the precious gift was purchased by the effusion of generous blood.  My lord, I honor the Belgians for their courage and their daring, and I will not stigmatize the means by which they obtained a citizen-king, a chamber of Deputies.”

It was all he was permitted to say.  With flushed face and excited gesture John O’Connell rose, and declared he could not sit and listen to the expression of such sentiments.  Either Mr. Meagher or he should leave the Association; O’Brien interceded to obtain a hearing for his young friend, and protested against Mr. O’Connell’s attempts to silence him.  But the appeal was wasted, O’Brien left the hall in disgust, and with him Meagher, Duffy, Reilly, and Mitchel quitted it for ever.

Meagher’s subsequent career in Ireland is soon told.  He was a regular attendant at the meetings of the Confederation, of which he was one of the founders, and the fame of his eloquence, his manly appearance, and the charms of his youthful frankness contributed immensely towards the growth of the new organization.  He always acted with O’Brien, whom he loved in his inmost soul, but he was respected and admired by every section of nationalists, the Mitchelites, the Duffyites, and we might even say the O’Connellites.  When the country began to feel the influence of the