sad recollections arise of generous hopes that floated o’er me, and now sink beyond the grave.  Mr. Butt, please convey to Mr. Dowse my grateful and sincere thanks.  Mr. Lawless, I also return you my thanks for your many acts of kindness—­I can do no more.”

He was not executed however.  The commutation of Burke’s sentence necessitated the like course in all the other capital cases, and M’Afferty’s doom was changed to penal servitude for life.

* * * * *

EDWARD DUFFY.

On the day following that on which M’Afferty’s sentence was pronounced, the trial of three men, named John Flood, Edward Duffy, and John Cody was brought to a conclusion.  When they were asked what they had to say why sentence should not be passed on them, Cody denied with all possible earnestness the charge of being president of an assassination committee, which had been brought against him.  Flood—­a young man of remarkably handsome exterior—­declared that the evidence adduced against himself was untrue in many particulars.  He alluded to the Attorney-General’s having spoken of him as “that wretched man, Flood.”  “My lords,” said he, “if to love my country more than my life makes me a wretched man, then I am a very wretched man indeed.”  Edward Duffy, it might be supposed by anyone looking at his emaciated frame, wasted by consumption, and with the seal of death plainly set on his brow, would not be able to offer any remarks to the court; but he roused himself to the effort.  The noble-hearted young fellow had been previously in the clutches of the government for the same offence.  He was arrested with James Stephens and others at Fairfield House, in November, 1865, but after a brief imprisonment was released in consideration of the state of his health, which seemed such as would not leave him many days to live.  But, few or many, Duffy could not do otherwise than devote them to the cause he had at heart.  He was re-arrested at Boyle on the 11th of March, and this time the government took care they would not quit their hold of him.  The following is the speech which, by a great physical effort, he delivered from the dock, his dark eyes brightening, and his pallid features lighting up with the glow of an earnest and lofty enthusiasm while he spoke:—­

“The Attorney-General has made a wanton attack on me, but I leave my countrymen to judge between us.  There is no political act of mine that I in the least regret.  I have laboured earnestly and sincerely in my country’s cause, and I have been actuated throughout by a strong sense of duty.  I believe that a man’s duty to his country is part of his duty to God, for it is He who implants the feeling of patriotism in the human breast.  He, the great searcher of hearts, knows that I have been actuated by no mean or paltry ambition—­that I have never worked for any selfish end.  For the late outbreak