Government had, by the month of June, discovered sufficient to quicken its diligence, and the officers of the police appeared thenceforward more alert and vigilant; notwithstanding which it was difficult to bring them to believe that the project of insurrection was on foot. This state of delusion continued until the fourteenth of July, the anniversary of the French Revolution, which opened the eyes of many, and excited a considerable degree of alarm. Bonfires were publicly made in commemoration of that event, and collections of people, apparently strenuous and decided, formed and partook in the festivity. On the sixteenth, the depot of powder in Patrick Street blew up, in which there were two men nearly suffocated; one of whom, in throwing up the window, cut the artery of his arm, and bled to death, the other was taken prisoner. Emmet was so alarmed at the discoveries this explosion would lead to, that he quitted the house in Butterfield-Lane, and took up his permanent residence at the depot in Mass-lane. He there had a mattress to sleep on, that he might be present night and day to direct and animate the workmen. The interval of the seven days ensuing after the explosion, was employed by Emmet and his associates either in deliberating on the propriety of immediately flying to arms, or in concerting the most practicable mode of commencing their operations. It was ultimately agreed upon to seize the several depots and arsenals in the vicinity of Dublin; and above all, it was universally determined to gain possession of the castle, as, in that case, it was supposed they could more decidedly influence the public mind by having the seat of government in their power. As the day of attack approached, the greater part of Emmet’s adherents, contemplating their danger, wished to defer the attempt. Emmet, however, was peremptory in the opposite way of thinking. He represented, with an impetuosity not to be resisted, that the militia was about to be embodied; that the country would be placed every day in a more unassailable posture, and by its multiplied measures of defence, become impregnable. The reader will probably not be displeased with the following extract from the pen of the same writer whom we have so often quoted, as illustrative of the kind, generous, and unsuspecting character of Emmet, even under the most difficult and trying circumstances. ‘I learned from Denis that the conspirators met in a valley not far from where we were, and that he was hastening to join them: I signified my readiness to attend him; and, as Denis was not a man of ceremony, he did not stand long upon punctilios, but immediately conducted me across a heathy and desolate hill, towards the place of rendezvous.