that vast mass burst into the sky; and as suddenly all was gloom again! The sentinels on Limerick walls heard the awful peal. It rolled like a thunderstorm away by the heights of Cratloe, and wakened sleepers amidst the hills of Clare. William heard it too; and he at least needed no interpreter of that fearful sound. He knew in that moment that his splendid siege train had perished, destroyed by a feat that only one man could have so planned and executed; an achievement destined to surround with unfading glory the name of Patrick Sarsfield! Sir John Lanier's party, coming up in no wise rapidly, saw the flash, that, as they said, gave broad daylight for a second, and felt the ground shake beneath them as if by an earthquake, and then their leader found he was just in time to be too late. Rushing on, he sighted Sarsfield's rear-guard; but there were memories of the Irish cavalry at the Boyne in no way encouraging him to force an encounter. From the Williamite camp two other powerful bodies of horse were sent out instantly on the explosion being heard, to surround Sarsfield and cut him off from the Shannon. But all was vain, and on Tuesday evening he and his Five Hundred rode into camp amidst a scene such as Limerick had not witnessed for centuries. The whole force turned out; the citizens came with laurel boughs to line the way; and as he marched in amidst a conqueror's ovation, the gunners on the old bastions across the river gave a royal salute to him whom they all now hailed as the saviour of the city! OUR EXILES. From a Speech in London in 1882 after his return from America. For my own part I am a student of what is passing around me in the world, and I cannot disguise from myself that the Almighty God ruling this universe in His own divine providence never gives an opportunity for justice to the wronger that he does not reserve a penalty for refusing to avail of that opportunity. I have met American statesmen; I have met members of the Ameri can Senate; I have met governors of the American States who, whatever opinion they held or hold about Ireland as to the solution of the Irish question, failed to understand — and the day will come when America, speaking through her established Government, will give utterance to this thought that she fails to understand-why this international trouble which is disturbing her peace as well as the peace of England could not be settled upon the reasonable plan of giving to Ireland the rights and liberties that a State in the American Union possesses under that system. That is American public opinion; and in view of the recent elections there, and of others that are soon to follow, I think it is not a far-fetched idea that, following the example of England-who a few years ago carried her advice to Continental rulers as to how they ought to govern -some day Uncle Sam may come to what is called the mother country, and say, "This Irish question has now become an American question, and we invite you, in diplomatic language, to meet us in a friendly conference to determine how it is to be settled." Ah, gentlemen, what of those millions across the way! You cannot know, you cannot measure the intensity of their devotion. Would to heaven to-night that the statesmen of England could see with their own eyes that element of power, for good or for mischief, that lies in the unchangeable devotion and fond fidelity of that Irish race. You will pardon me if I mention an incident which occurred during one of my journeys in the West. As the train stopped at a little wayside station a man came to me and said, "Sir, I have driven there being no railway-ninety miles to see you and shake hands with you," and the tears came to his eyes, "and to tell you to tell the men at home that we are all praying for their success and victory." The gaze of those millions are upon your every movement. Something was said a moment ago, and I desire to speak with all solemnity on this subject, of what might befall if any man or men by defection or apathy or hostility could wreck this organization. I tell you that never again in your generation will any Irish movement, constitutional or unconstitutional, armed or unarmed, so largely enlist the active sympathy and support of the millions of the Irish race in America. And realizing, as I have done, that it is not likely that the Irish millions in America would again give themselves to this extent in purse, in pocket, in heart and deed to the movements at home (seeing how many of them have come to nought)-realizing the fact that if their hopes in this movement and this leadership be wrecked your generation will see effort from them no more -I have felt that the man had better never been born who by any act or word should take from the confidence and earnestness of the Irish people in the movement now leading to national independence. Every day some sneers are raised at the Parliamentary party as "Parliamentarians"; as if in our day accepting a seat in that assembly brought with it for the Irish party aught but toil, and drudgery, and pain, and physical exertion. The days are gone when the life of an Irish national member of Parliament was that of easy enjoyment in London. The men around me know that they had better be toiling on the hillside in Ireland as to physical endurance than going through the duties of that assembly; and yet never in the history of the Irish race for 200 years have the movements of so many men been watched with such throbbing hearts as are the movements of these men by the Irish millions in America. They watch the conflict passing, as it were, before them. They know the disparity of numbers, where fifty men fight against five hundred. They see, as it were, the shock of conflict; the smoke of battle hides the scene for a moment from their view, and with palpitating hearts they wait until it has cleared away to see if the Irish flag is still flying in the air. Passing near Fort M'Henry, where there was confined during the war of 1812 the patriot poet who wrote one of the American national songs, I was strongly reminded by this attitude of the Irish race of the circumstances under which that American anthem was composed in the prison cell. He had been taken captive by the invading British expedition that sailed up to capture Washington, and he and a number of patriot Americans lay in the works of that fort in the hands of their British captors. Their jailors would tell them not as to how the battle went, and they had only one signal to tell them whether the cause of their country was still intact. They gazed, as the sun rose, through the casemates every morning to see if the flag beyond was the English red or the American stripes and stars; and the prisoner gave utterance to his and their feelings in these lines: "O, say can you see, by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?— Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the clouds of the fight O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming! And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night, that our flag was still there; O say, does that Star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the Free and the home of the Brave?" Even so on that shore ten millions of our race now nightly pray, and watch the morning with streaming eyes to know how the struggle is waged upon the Irish shore. I am one of those who believe that in this world moral sympathy counts for a great deal-that Almighty God cannot be left out of the account; and convinced am I that that evening prayer and the morning anxiety, representing the fond and holy devotion and the desperate determination of ten million of Irish hearts, will yet have their way, and conduce to the establishment and restoration of the national liberties of Ireland. FAREWELL. Sail bravely on, thou gallant bark, And safely guard the precious freight Nor reck the grief of aching hearts Keep well thy watch, O seaman bold, Nor glimpse of land, nor guiding light, The night comes dark, and o'er the way Great God! Protector of the world, Like miser watching from the shore O'er ocean paths to distant lands I sit and gaze, through streaming eyes, And fain would have the good ship turn Sail on, brave ship; a priceless stake May angels waft thee on thy course, Are child and mother given, Queenstown, 13th September, 1866. |