“Costello” was defeated, however, but so was Meagher.  The Young Ireland champion was stigmatized as a Tory by the Whigs, and as a rebel by the Tories; if the people, as Mitchel remarks had any power he would have been elected by an overwhelming majority, but the people had no votes, and Sir Henry Winston Barren was returned.  Meagher went back to Dublin almost a convert to Mitchel’s views, leaving Whig, Tory, and West Briton to exult over his discomfiture.

We have already seen what Meagher did when the guage of battle was thrown down, and when “the day all hearts to weigh” was imagined to have arrived, we have seen how he accompanied O’Brien in his expedition from Wexford to Kilkenny, and thence to Tipperary; and how on the morning of July 29th, 1848, he left O’Brien at Ballingarry, little dreaming of the tragedy which was to make that day memorable, and expecting to be able to bring reinforcements to his leader from other quarters before the crisis came.  He failed however in his effort to spread the flames of insurrection.  The chilling news of O’Brien’s defeat—­distorted and exaggerated by hostile tongues—­was before him everywhere, and even the most resolute of his sympathisers had sense enough to see that their opportunity—­if it existed at all—­had passed away.  On the 12th day of August, 1848, Meagher was arrested on the road between Clonoulty and Holycross, in Tipperary.  He was walking along in company with Patrick O’Donoghue and Maurice R. Leyne, two of his intimate friends and fellow-outlaws, when a party of police passed them by.  Neither of the three was disguised, but Meagher and Leyne wore frieze overcoats, which somewhat altered their usual appearance.  After a short time the police returned; Meagher and his companions gave their real names on being interrogated, and they were at once arrested and taken in triumph to Thurles.  The three friends bore their ill fortune with what their captors must have considered provoking nonchalance.  Meagher smoked a cigar on the way to the station, and the trio chatted as gaily as if they were walking in safety on the free soil of America, instead of being helpless prisoners on their way to captivity and exile.

Meagher stood in the dock at Clonmel a week after O’Brien had quitted it a convict.  He was defended by Mr. Whiteside and Isaac Butt, whose magnificent speech in his defence was perhaps the most brilliant display of forensic eloquence ever heard Within the court in which he stood.  Of course the jury was packed (only 18 Catholics were named on a jury-panel of 300), and of course the crown carried its point.  On the close of the sixth day of the trial, the jury returned into court with a verdict of “guilty,” recommending the prisoner to mercy on the ground of his youth.

Two days later he was brought back to the dock to receive sentence.  He was dressed in his usual style, appeared in excellent health, and bore himself—­we are told—­throughout the trying ordeal, with fortitude and manly dignity.  He spoke as follows:—­