if this were not the first case brought under the Act, our duty might have obliged us to carry out the penalty it awards to the utmost extent; but, taking into consideration, that this is the first conviction under the Act—­though the offence has been as clearly proved as any offence under the Act could be—­the sentence of the court is, that you be transported beyond the seas for the term of fourteen years.”

The listeners to the hypocritical sentence which concluded Lefroy’s speech, heard the sentence with astonishment and indignation.  Mr. Mitchel merely asked, apparently without any astonishment, if he might now address some remarks to the court.  The leave asked was granted, and a silence still as death awaited the prisoner.

“The law,” he said, in his usual manly tone, and unexcited manner, “the law has now done its part, and the Queen of England, her crown and government in Ireland are now secure—­’pursuant to Act of Parliament.’  I have done my part, also.  Three months ago I promised Lord Clarendon and his government in this country, that I would provoke him into his ‘courts of justice,’ as places of this kind are called, and that I would force him publicly and notoriously to pack a jury against me to convict me, or else that I would walk out a free man from this dock to meet him in another field.

“My lord, I knew I was setting my life on that cast; but I warned him that, in either case, the victory would be with me; and the victory is with me.  Neither the jury, nor the judges, nor any other man in this court, presumes to imagine that it is a criminal who stands in this dock.”

He was interrupted with the plaudits of the auditory; and again continued:—­

“I have kept my word.  I have shown what the law is made of in Ireland.  I have shown that her majesty’s government sustains itself in Ireland by packed juries, by partisan judges, by perjured sheriffs—­”

Here he was interrupted by Lefroy, who said, “the court could not sit there to hear him arraign the jurors of the country, the sheriffs of the country, the administration of justice, the tenure by which the crown of England holds that country.  The trial was over.  Everything the prisoner had to say previous to the judgment, the court was ready to hear, and did hear.  They could not suffer him (Mr. Mitchel) to stand at that bar to repeat, very nearly, a repetition of the offence for which he had been sentenced.”

“I will not say,” Mr. Mitchel continued, “anything more of that kind.  But I say this—­”

Lefroy again interrupted him, to the effect that, within certain limits the prisoner might proceed.

“I have acted,” he then said, “I have acted all through this business, from the first, under a strong sense of duty.  I do not regret anything I have done, and I believe that the course which I have opened is only commenced.  The Roman,” he continued in one of those bursts of eloquence, with which he used to electrify men, stretching forth his clenched hand and arm, “the Roman who saw his hand burning to ashes before the tyrant, promised that three hundred should follow out his enterprise.  Can I not promise for one, for two, for three, aye for hundreds?”