observe that Reilly was a Catholic, which was bad enough in the eyes of the prisoner at the bar; but he was more; he was a rival, and were it not for the state of the law, would, it appears, for there is no doubt of it now, have been a successful one.  From henceforth the prisoner at the bar marked Mr. Reilly for vengeance, for destruction, for death.  At this time he was in the full exercise of irresponsible authority; he could burn, hang, shoot, without being called to account; and as it will appear before you, gentlemen, this consciousness of impunity stimulated him to the perpetration of such outrages as, in civil life, and in a country free from civil war, are unparalleled in the annals of crime and cruelty.

“But, gentlemen, what did this man do? this man, so anxious to preserve the peace of the country; this man, the terror of the surrounding districts; what did he do, I ask?  Why, he took the most notorious robber of:  his day, the fierce and guilty Rapparee—­he took him into his councils, in order that he might enable him to trace the object of his vengeance, Reilly, in the first place, and to lead him to the hiding-places of such unfortunate Catholic priests as had taken refuge in the caves and fastnesses of the mountains.  Instead of punishing this notorious malefactor, he took him into his own house, made him, as he was proud to call them, one of his priest-hounds, and induced him to believe that he had procured him a pardon from Government.  Reilly’s name he had, by his foul misrepresentations, got into the Hue-and-Cry, and subsequently had him gazetted as an outlaw; and all this upon his own irresponsible authority.  I mention nothing, gentlemen, in connection with this trial which we are not in a capacity to prove.

“Having forced Reilly into a variety of disguises, and hunted him like a mad dog through the country; having searched every:  lurking-place in which he thought he might I find him, he at length resolved on the only course of vengeance he could pursue.  He surrounded his habitation, and, after searching for Reilly himself, he openly robbed him of all that was valuable of that gentleman’s furniture, then set fire to the house, and in the clouds of the night reduced that and every out-office he had to ashes—­a capital felony.  It so happens, however, that the house and offices were, in point of fact, not the property of Reilly at all, but of a most respectable Protestant gentleman and magistrate, Mr. Hastings, with whose admirable! character I have no doubt you are all acquainted; and all that remains for me to say is, that he is the prosecutor in this case.

“And now, gentlemen, we expect a calm, deliberate, and unbiassed verdict from you.  Look upon the prisoner at the bar as an innocent man until you can, with a clear conscience, find him guilty of the charges which we are in a condition to prove against him; but if there be any doubt upon your minds, I hope you will give him the benefit of it.”