that had Hoche and even five thousand | arrival, answered their questions in a perFrench soldiers landed safely in the bay, they would, in the then disaffected state of the country, have been joined by the majority of the inhabitants, and Cork must have fallen.

England now, in self-defence, commenced a series of repressive measures, which exasperated the patriotic party in Ireland beyond endurance, and drove men who had wavered in their opinions before, into the ranks of the malcontents.

The Habeas Corpus Act was suspended, and martial law declared. Deeds of cruelty and barbarity were perpetrated, with which readers of Irish history are only too familiar. FitzGerald, and his brother United Irishmen, must have seen that all chance of obtaining justice for their country was gone. Their eyes were again turned abroad for aid, and the promise of joint assistance from France and Holland kept their hopes alive. But these were presently dashed to the ground by Lord Duncan's decisive victory over the Dutch off Camperdown. Yet even after this, communications between the society and the French Directory were maintained, and in February, 1798, Arthur O'Connor, when about to embark for France at Margate, with a view to inviting a fresh invasion, was arrested and committed to the Tower.

fectly collected manner. They demanded
all her husband's papers, and her own.
These she delivered up. Later in the
evening Lord Edward returned home;
but when apprised of the active search for
him that had begun, he disappeared and
spent the night in the house of a confed-
erate. He was obliged to remove thence
to a house more remotely situated, on
the banks of the canal. Here he lived for
a month under a feigned name, keeping
up a correspondence with the new Direc-
tory, which had been appointed to replace
the delegates seized at Oliver Bond's.
It is said that the members of the
government, the viceroy more especially,
were most anxious at this juncture to
give FitzGerald every chance of quitting
the country, if he were so minded. But
nothing was farther from his thoughts.
He was, on the contrary, occupied with
preparations for the general rising, now
fixed for the 23rd of May the plan be-
ing that the rebel forces of three counties,
Dublin, Wicklow, and Kildare, should
advance simultaneously on the capital,
taking by surprise the camp at Loughlins-
town, the artillery station at Chapelizod,
and finally possessing themselves of the
Castle.

Meantime spies were constantly in search for him. A proclamation was FitzGerald, whose name, rank, and issued offering a reward of £1,000 for his popularity gave him greater influence capture. He found it necessary to change than his colleagues, was now regarded as his quarters several times. From his the leader of the movement, and he threw hiding-place by the canal, he moved to the himself into it with characteristic zeal. house of a feather-merchant, named MurHe appointed a revolutionary staff, and phy, in Thomas Street, and from thence issued instructions to the rebel forces.to the house of a Mr. Moore hard by. Meetings of the executive committee were | From here he ventured out one evening held repeatedly, and secretly, at different in disguise. There seems to be some places. But while the plot proceeded, the doubt as to whither he was bound. Some government availed itself of the services assert that he was going to the house of of one Thomas Reynolds, a turncoat and Lord Moira, where Lady Edward had arinformer, to gain sure information regard-ranged to meet him; others, that finding ing the doings of the plotters. Warrants the neighborhood of Thomas Street no were issued for the apprehension of the members of the executive committee, and, on the 12th of March, a number of them were arrested at a meeting convened at the house of Oliver Bond, a merchant of Dublin.

longer safe, he had accepted the offer of an asylum in the house of one Francis Magan, a barrister, and was going there. But, whatever his destination, information that he was to be abroad at nightfall reached the Castle authorities, and the streets through which he was expected to pass were watched in consequence. He set out with an escort of friends.

By the merest accident, FitzGerald was absent on the occasion, and therefore remained at large. A hot search for him began at once. The sheriff, with a party At a point where two lanes converged, of minor officials, repaired to Leinster Major Sirr (the town-major) with an atHouse, where he and Lady Edward had tendant guard, was posted. As the party for some time been established. There approached, Sirr attacked them at once; they found Lady Edward, who, though but was himself overthrown in the mud, alarmed on her husband's account by their ❘ and soundly cudgelled, by one of FitzGer

ald's self-constituted protectors, a burly | "and I know you: it will be in vain to regiant named Gallagher. During the sist." scuffle which ensued, Lord Edward retraced his steps with all speed to Moore's. Next day, for safety's sake, he changed his residence again to Murphy's house, and remained for hours concealed in a loft. The utmost caution was now necessary, for it was evident that the authorities were at least aware in what street he was hiding.

Mr. Watson, the lord lieutenant's private | Their appeals were sternly rejected, until secretary, asked him whether he would the surgeon-general, who was attending like any message delivered to Lady Edward.

'No, no," was his reply, "thank you, nothing nothing. Only break it to her tenderly."

From the Castle he was removed to Newgate on the requisition of the magistrates, inasmuch as the frightful injuries he had inflicted on Captain Ryan were declared by the doctors to be mortal.

For some days before this, the friends of the prisoner had been in ignorance of his movements. When a reward for his capture was offered by government, their hope, and, in several cases, their firm belief, was that he had fled the country. When, therefore, the announcement of his arrest, and of the circumstances at tending it, reached them, their astonishment was only equalled by their dismay. His wife, when the first burst of grief had subsided, sought permission to join him in prison. But this was refused, and a few days afterwards, in obedience to an order of the Privy Council, she quitted Ireland.*

At first it was thought that Lord Edward would recover from his wounds. But for this rest was necessary, and with a mind disturbed as his was, rest was out of the question. How terrible a prospect was that which lay before him! - a trial, which could only result in one way, followed by an ignominious death on the scaffold. On the last day of the month, he heard of the death of Captain Ryan. Remorse for a deed committed in a transport of fury, and the thought that, to the other charges against him, there was now added that of murder, affected him deeply. Awaking from a short and troubled sleep on the morning of the 2nd of June, he heard a commotion outside his prison window. Inquiring the cause, he was told that the execution of the rebel Clinch was taking place. The same night he was in a raging fever, and delirious. His frantic exclamations could be heard outside the prison walls.

the prisoner, pronounced his condition to be hopeless. They were then admitted. Lord Edward FitzGerald was now calm. His wandering senses returned as his strength ebbed, and he recognized the faces of those he loved so well at his bed

side. "It is heaven to me to see you! were his few faint words, as they bent in anguish over him.

"He smiled at me," writes Lady Louisa, in her touching account of the scene, "which I shall never forget, though I saw death in his dear face at the time."

The interview did not last long. The dying man's thoughts were evidently confused, and he spoke but little. His aunt and brother left him, promising to return next day; but they had really bid adieu to him forever. Three hours after their departure, he breathed his last.

Such was the end of a man whose honesty of purpose cannot be questioned, whatever may be thought of the national movement which he led. If," says Dr. Macnevin,

honorable ambition, he had only to cling to he had been actuated in political life by dishis great family connections, and Parliamentary influence. They, unquestionably, would have advanced his fortunes and gratified his desires. The voluntary sacrifices he made, and the magnanimous manner in which he devoted himself to the independence of Ireland, are incontestable proofs of the purity of his soul.

From The Spectator.

"ABOUT BEING WELL-INFORMED."

FOR a great part of my life, I (or we," if the plural may add dignity and weight to my beginning) suffered under a modest conviction that I was a very ill-informed person. There were so many hard words round me, that all the paths of knowledge seemed as no thoroughfare to my understanding. Something of Greek I had learned, and of Latin, -pleasant, old, Most of his near kindred mother, umbrageous regions of literature not then stepfather, and sisters- were now in En- threatened with disafforesting, wherein gland; but an aunt and brother (Lady the mind might browse with much satisLouisa Conolly, and Lord Henry Fitz-faction, and, as I yet think, to some profit; Gerald) were in Dublin, and urgently appealing to the clemency of the viceroy and chancellor (Lords Camden and Clare) for admission to their suffering relative.

* Among the papers seized at Leinster House were some showing that she was as deeply implicated in the conspiracy as her husband.

but with all the modern developments of (alas, poor word!) English, I believed myself unable to cope. Political questions I could not fathom. If I drank of the lucid fount of law, my head grew muddled, and I asked if the drainage was right. When a legal argument rose in the House,

I could not understand how it was that to elementary books in secret shame, but all the lawyers who voted with the Tories the most elementary of them assumed in held one legal opinion, and those who me a knowledge for the absence of which went for the Whigs another. Medicine I blushed. The "three M's" of my inmet me with an astounding jargon, which fancy, Mangnall, Markham, Marcett, were had none of the English that my simple all beyond me. With more advanced faculties might grasp, yet failed to remind teachers, I was hopeless. I could grapme of any classics I had read. About ple with an intricate construction of science, above all, I felt that I was bound Thucydides, but not with Tinfoil, Worrito know something. Did I not read son, et hoc genus omne. To deal with everywhere that everybody did, that their obscure passages, I had neither propositions in which I could not detect" crib nor dictionary. All these wise the smallest meaning, or the merest gram-men, I am told, hold very different opinmar, were recognized facts of existence, ions, and fight about them fiercely. But as much as that two and two make four? I lamped them all together in my unchasI wonder if two and two do make four. tened thought. If I could ever follow a Men of late have overproved everything sentence of one of them, I felt that I so much, that I find myself sometimes should hold the key to all. But I never daringly speculating in bed whether, after could. Yet wherever I went - at dinnerall, the sun does not go round the earth, tables and in country houses - I might instead of letting the earth go round it. hear these mysteries glibly talked about, It looks as if it did, I am sure. Suppose when the game and the horses had been that there should one day be a great col- well discussed, and seemed alone in my lapse of wisdom, and that all our most ignorance. Did all the fine ladies and all established facts should at one fell swoop the rising youth really understand all be shown to be entirely wrong. How these things, which seemed so hopelessly great would be the yeλws tv 'Aavarolow! dark to me; or was it possible could it And I do not in the least see why it be that they only "made believe"? should not happen. But to return. Sci- Journalism did not help me. Perhaps, I ence, I was ashamed to feel, beat me more than all other studies. I could never remember the distance of anything from the earth, and at times secretly, but firmly, believed that nobody really knew. I used to wander out at night, and look up

to

thought, if I begin by reading through the leading articles of the Jupiter every morning, and not putting them down till I have mastered them, I may improve. At first I was hopeful, for I found that if I took to analyzing the periods, their construction puzzled me very much. So I hoped that I had found there a grammar The royal heaven's immeasurable plain, And the unnumbered stars' bright company, for this strange tongue which I wanted to be able to read. But I soon broke and grow rebellious towards the canons down. Do what I would, out of nineof these fellow-men of mine, crawling tenths of the wilderness of words I could like me between heaven and earth, and compress or distil no definite meaning measured like me, in the teeth of all their whatsoever. I got general ideas of what wisdom, by the span of threescore and it was all about, and that was all. And ten tiny years. Who and what were they, not always that. It was the same with to cramp this mystic universe by a six- poetry. I took up the poet Whiting, defoot rule, and to vulgarize the infinite? termined, at all events, to understand him, I believed that the philosophers had not for I had a great, though anachronical, made all their discoveries (as they said love of verse, and I knew my Scott, and that they had), for the benefit of man-my Byron, and my Macaulay's "Lays kind, but for something to do. My mind by heart. But at least I knew that they began to assume towards these self-ap- were not poetry, for they were too simple; pointed monitors of the race the attitude and there was no use in poetry unless it of Betsy Prig to Sairey Gamp, when too puzzled one, at least for a time. How much "Mrs. Harris" brought her fairly otherwise could it improve the mind, and to bay. Nowhere in the range of lan- introduce me to the well-informed? I Iguage do I remember anything more epic, had a sneaking regard for Tennyson and more human, more dramatic, than those Longfellow, who had simple things to awful words by which the yoke of years say, and said them simply; but I owned was broken in a moment: I don't be that it was very shallow of me. They lieve there's no such person." feel it themselves, so much so that one of them, the American, writes a sonnet

66

I was very ill-informed, indeed. I rushed

to the other, and abuses the higher poesy, | smoked and listened, asked me, when it which rhymers like these cannot grasp. was over, what difficulty I found in it, and He talks enviously of

you

explained it all. I thanked him humbly, and said, "Oh, yes," having by this time a glimmering of the fact that, if do not understand a thing, you may be reputed quite as well-informed by saying that you do, and avoiding particulars. As I had read the passage backwards, I knew that if I could have found the words I could have explained it as well as Impey, and from that hour I doubted him. Heresy grows fast, when doubt is once admitted. But I then and there abandoned Whiting. When, some time afterwards, a friend of mine, who had met him at dinner and been charmed with his urbanity, said enthusiastically, "You would never think he was a poet:" "Not from his poetry," I answered gloomily. And the repartee was considered good at the time.

the howling dervishes.of song, Who craze the brain with their delirious dance. Think of the audacity of it! Why, the very thing I needed was to have my brain properly crazed. Then I should be wellinformed, and, after a time, understand wisdom, perhaps, later on even enter into a controversy about molecules, or something else really useful. So I shut myself up, tied a towel round my head, and drank green tea, and went in for Whiting. I knew that I should suffer at first, but when the shore was won, I should not count the billows. I consorted with a very well-informed man, whom I had known at college, Impey, of St. Nil's, and talked to him of Whiting, whom he admired as much as his lofty mind allowed him to admire anybody. To Impey, the Was I really getting hold of the key? deepest philosophy was as child's-play, Was the venerable Solomon, after all, as and he proved the composition of the good a man as any of the staff of the soul, or its substitute, every month in the Agnostic, with his good-humored views Agnostic. The worst of it was that, of the exceeding silliness of this life? as he thus made his living (having to live, “Are we all on the wrong tack,” I asked like humbler beings), he was by the ne- myself, "in insisting on making it so fearcessity of the thing obliged to prove it fully and wonderfully in earnest, in season differently every time, which was very and out of season (forgetting the old trying for his disciples, making him more warning against early rising and the difficult to follow than Revelation, onbread of carefulness'), in knocking our which a few of the weaker among them heads against all sorts of walls of our at last fell back, becoming content and own building, and solving the big probrestful at once, which was both annoying lems, which are just the same as they and wrong. For if we consent to be always were, for the benefit of those of content and restful, what becomes of prog. the next generation who shall be on the ress and the Agnostic? There being no staff of their Agnostic, and will have to life beyond, the Impeyites justly argue solve them all over again, in the same that we should get all the trouble we can way and other words, or in the same out of this one, for the sake of our suc- words and another way?" For the great cessors. As to Whiting, however, Im- beauty of "cerebral moleculism" pey did not think much of poets, but have just invented that expression, and it admitted that Whiting was one. I asked sounds very well, though it means nothif he always understood him. He merely ing-is that from the same premisses, smiled, seeing no difficulty. Could he as thereby expressed, we may draw oppoexplain him? That, of course, he said site conclusions with equal force and perdepended on my capacity for understand-spicuity. Though I have struggled hard, ing the explanation. This was bitter, since the date of which I have been and went home all the more because I felt, having read Impey, that it would be harder to follow than the original. Yet Impey and I had taken a first at Oxbridge together. How-oh! how had he become so well-informed, while I had sunk into a fool? I chose a blank-verse page from the poet, making it scan as well as I could, and I read it to Impey, with all the emphasis I could command, line by line, backwards, and upwards from the bottom, finishing at the top. He

I

writing, to become well-informed, and feel that I may have, at all events, partially succeeded, I own that I think it must be very much easier to write the language of moleculism, when once its dictionary has been mastered, than to read what has been written. Only moleculists understand it, which makes it seem difficult to the outsider. But then, who cares to write but for the initiated? What is it to the doctor who has all cures at his fingers' ends — though, if he has a cold