“How many have taken the oath to-night?” said a stout ill-looking man, advancing to the front line. “Sure, Citizen Conner, fifty as brave boys as ever suck’d whiskey from the mother country,” answered O’Kelly from within. The ferocious band of rebels were now ordered forward, and stood before their leader; some much intoxicated, and all exhibiting strange marks of lawless and riotous insubordination. “We’ll pay no tythes to the parsons,” said one. “We’ll go to mass, that we will, our own way.” “We’ll be entirely free.” “There shall be no laws amongst us.” “We’ll reform every thing, won’t we?” “And turn all intruders out with the tyrants.” “Here’s to the Emerald Isle! Old Ireland for ever! Erin for ever!” “Come, my brave boys,” shouted forth one Citizen Cobb, “this night get yourselves pikes—make yourselves arms. Beg, buy, or steal, and bring them here privately at the next meeting. We’ll send your names in to the directory. Fear nothing, we will protect you: we’ll consider your grievances. Only go home peaceably, some one way, and some another—by twos, by threes. Let us be orderly as the king’s men are. We are free men; and indeed free men can make as good soldiers.” “I would fain speak a few words, citizen, before we part to-night. The hour is not yet ripe; but you have been all much wronged. My heart bleeds for your wrongs. Every tear that falls from an Irishman is like a drop of the heart’s best blood: is’t not so, gentlemen? Ye have been much aggrieved; but there is one whom ye have for your leader, who feels for your misfortunes; who will not live among you to see you wronged: and who, though having nothing left for himself, is willing to divide his property amongst you all to the last shilling. See there, indeed, he stands amongst us. Say, shall he speak to you?” “Long life to him—let him speak to us.” “Hear him.” “Let there be silence as profound as death.” “Sure and indeed we’ll follow him to the grave.” “Och, he’s a proper man!” A thousand voices having thus commanded silence: