vaded, that people took the field, struck down the ministry, and dragged their sovereign to the block. We shall not imitate English precedent, while we struggle for a parliament. That institution you prize so sighly, which fosters your wealth, adds to your prosperity, and guards your freedom, was ours for six hundred years. Restore the blessing and we shall be content. This prosecution is not essential for the maintenance of the authority and prerogative of the crown. Our gracious sovereign needs not state prosecutions to secure her prerogatives or preserve her power. She has the unbought loyalty of a chivalrous and gallant people. The arm of authority she requires not to raise. The glory of her gentle reign will be-she will have ruled, not by the sword, but by the affections; that the true source of her power has been, not in terrors of the law but in the hearts of her people. Your patience is exhausted. I. I have spoken suitably to the subject, I have spoken as I could have wished; but if, as you may think, deficiently, I have spoken as I could. Do you, from what has been said, and from the better arguments omitted, which may be well suggested by your manly understandings and your honest hearts, give a verdict consistent with justice, yet leaning to liberty-dictated by truth, yet inclining to the side of the accused men, struggling against the weight, and power, and influence of the crown, and prejudice more overwhelming still a verdict undesired by any party, but to be applauded by the impartial monitor within your breasts, becoming the high spirit of Irish gentlemen, and the intrepid guardians of the rights and liberties of a free people.

(1826-1896.)

JANE FRANCESCA ELGEE, afterward Lady Wilde, was the daughter of a Wexford clergyman, and was born in 1826. She came of an Italian family long settled in Ireland. McClure, the discoverer, was her uncle, and she was related to Maturin, the author of ' Bertram.' In the year 1844 Charles Gavan Duffy received at The Nation office some verses which were signed Speranza," with no indication of the real name of the author. From time to time other verses came from the same hand. They attracted much attention even in the pages which were then made bright by so many brilliant poets, and the verses of "Speranza" became more welcome than those of any other writer of the time. "Speranza," moreover, was not only a maker of poems, for some of the most daring, effective, and vehement prose articles of The Nation also came from her hand. One of the articles attributed to " Speranza's" pen was the well-known one headed 'Jacta alea est' (the die is cast), which created more sensation than anything that had previously appeared in The Nation, and was one of those produced on the trial of Charles Gavan Duffy. After some months of mystification, Mr. Duffy was invited to a house in Lisson Street, and there the editor of The Nation, brought face to face with the contributor, found to his surprise that "Speranza" was not a man but a lady in her early youth.

"Speranza" proved to be Jane Francesca Elgee, a young lady who had been brought up amid surroundings of such intense Conservatism that when the immense funeral procession that marked the admiration in which Thomas Davis was held passed by her window she did not know who that great poet was. Some time after this she got hold of The Spirit of the Nation, containing poems by Dalton Williams; her imagination was fired and her patriotic feelings were aroused. The passionate rhetoric of her verses, which reflected her own fearless and generous character, helped in no small degree to make The Nation a political force, but, as in the case of many other writers of both prose and verse, she won her true literary success in the former medium.

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In 1851 Miss Elgee became the wife of Dr. Wilde, afterward Sir William Wilde, who died in 1869 in Dublin, where he had held for many years an eminent position in his profession. Lady Wilde survived her husband for over a quarter of a century, and continued to write till within a short time of her death, which occurred in 1896. She published among her prose volumes, Driftwood from Scandinavia (1884), 'Legends and Charms of Ireland' (1886), 'Social Studies' (1893), and a pamphlet on the 'Irish in America,' which attracted great attention on both sides of the Atlantic. She also published several translations of French and German works, among others Sidonia the Sorceress,' from the German; and a very remarkable philosophical novel from the German, entitled 'The First Temptation, or Eritis sicut Deus.' Some of her most interesting work was the gathering up of The Ancient Legends of Ireland.'

THE DEMON CAT.

From Ancient Legends of Ireland.'

There was a woman in Connemara, the wife of a fisherman; as he had always good luck, she had plenty of fish at all times stored away in the house ready for market. But, to her great annoyance, she found that a great cat used to come in at night and devour all the best and finest fish. So she kept a big stick by her, and determined to watch.

One day, as she and a woman were spinning together, the house suddenly became quite dark; and the door was burst open as if by the blast of the tempest, when in walked a huge black cat, who went straight up to the fire, then turned round and growled at them.

"Why, surely this is the devil," said a young girl, who was by, sorting fish.

"I'll teach you how to call me names," said the cat; and, jumping at her, he scratched her arm till the blood came. "There, now," he said, "you will be more civil another time when a gentleman comes to see you." And with that he walked over to the door and shut it close, to prevent any of them going out, for the poor young girl, while crying loudly from fright and pain, had made a desperate rush to get away.

Just then a man was going by, and hearing the cries, he pushed open the door and tried to get in; but the cat stood on the threshold, and would let no one pass. On this the man attacked him with his stick, and gave him a sound blow; the cat, however, was more than a match in the fight, for it flew at him and tore his face and hands so badly that the man at last took to his heels and ran away as fast as he could.

"I

"Now, it's time for my dinner," said the cat, going up to examine the fish that was laid out on the tables. hope the fish is good to-day. Now, don't disturb me, nor make a fuss; I can help myself." With that he jumped up and began to devour all the best fish, while he growled at the woman.

"Away, out of this, you wicked beast," she cried, giving it a blow with the tongs that would have broken its back,

only it was a devil; "out of this; no fish shall you have to-day."

But the cat only grinned at her, and went on tearing and spoiling and devouring the fish, evidently not a bit the worse for the blow. On this, both the women attacked it with sticks, and struck hard blows enough to kill it, on which the cat glared at them, and spit fire; then, making a leap, it tore their heads and arms till the blood came, and the frightened women rushed shrieking from the house.

But presently the mistress returned, carrying with her a bottle of holy water; and, looking in, she saw the cat still devouring the fish, and not minding. So she crept over quietly and threw holy water on it without a word. No sooner was this done than a dense black smoke filled the place, through which nothing was seen but the two red eyes of the cat, burning like coals of fire. Then the smoke gradually cleared away, and she saw the body of the creature burning slowly till it became shriveled and black like a cinder, and finally disappeared. And from that time the fish remained untouched and safe from harm, for the power of the evil one was broken, and the demon cat

A rich woman sat up late one night carding and preparing wool, while all the family and servants were asleep. Suddenly a knock was given at the door, and a voice called -"Open! open!"

"Who is there?” said the woman of the house.

"I am the Witch of the one Horn," was answered. The mistress, supposing that one of her neighbors had called and required assistance, opened the door, and a woman entered, having in her hand a pair of wool carders, and bearing a horn on her forehead, as if growing there. She sat down by the fire in silence, and began to card the wool with violent haste. Suddenly she paused, and said aloud: "Where are the women? they delay too long."

Then a second knock came to the door, and a voice called as before, "Open! open!"

The mistress felt herself constrained to rise and open to the call, and immediately a second witch entered, having two horns on her forehead, and in her hand a wheel for spinning wool.

"Give me place," she said, "I am the Witch of the two Horns," and she began to spin as quick as lightning.

And so the knocks went on, and the call was heard, and the witches entered, until at last twelve women sat round the fire the first with one horn, the last with twelve horns.

And they carded the thread, and turned their spinningwheels, and wound and wove.

All sang together an ancient rhyme, but no word did they speak to the mistress of the house. Strange to hear, and frightful to look upon, were these twelve women, with their horns and their wheels; and the mistress felt near to death, and she tried to rise that she might call for help, but she could not move, nor could she utter a word or a cry, for the spell of the witches was upon her.

Then one of them called to her in Irish, and said

"Rise, woman, and make us a cake." Then the mistress searched for a vessel to bring water from the well that she might mix the meal and make the cake, but she could find

none.

And they said to her, "Take a sieve and bring water in it."

And she took the sieve and went to the well; but the water poured from it, and she could fetch none for the cake, and she sat down by the well and wept.

Then a voice came by her and said, "Take yellow clay and moss, and bind them together, and plaster the seive so that it will hold."

This she did, and the sieve held the water for the cake; and the voice said again

"Return, and when thou comest to the north angle of the house, cry aloud three times and say, 'The mountain of the Fenian women and the sky over it is all on fire.'" And she did so.

When the witches inside heard the call, a great and terrible cry broke from their lips, and they rushed forth with