ently engaged the sympathies of our people for their sufferings, or their fate, as "the youth who perished in his pride," in the last struggle for their cause. This peculiar interest in his memory is attributable to his singleness of purpose, his oratorical simplicity of character, his noble talents, his chivalrous sense of honor, his purity of mind-the glowing spirit of patriotism, that was the ruling passion of his life, and so "strong in death," as to make his conduct in the dock, in the dungeon, on the scaffold-a spectacle never to be forgotten by those who witnessed ita subject of mournful admiration to all who read of it-a theme of proud sorrow for all who treat of it.

It was no ordinary conduct, on the threshold of the grave, which extorted from the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, in a despatch to his government in 1812, in reference to the state trials of 1803, the admission that Emmet seemed to have been " animated by a sentiment of magnanimity; with which, whatever his crimes may have been, he certainly conducted himself on that solemn occasion."

I have nothing to add to what I have already expressed in the biography of Emmet, in reference to his character, and the perilous enterprise he embarked in; neither have I any thing to wish unsaid that I have stated, in regard to either. Many typographical errors, indeed, in the Third Series, I earnestly desire had been avoided. When the author of a work is a thousand miles distant from the press where the process of multiplying manuscript is going on, and trans forming the same, by the intervention of machinery. into printed matter, the task of revision must necessarily devolve on others, and seldom with advantage to the work. I was in a foreign land when the last series of the Lives and Times of the United Irishmer was printed and published.

In the Appendix will be found the corrections of those errata, and a few memoranda and documents which have reference to the subject of the work, and are of sufficient importance to entitle them to a place in it.

The concluding series of it, as well as the first and succeeding one, have been reviewed at some length in the pages of a Dublin literary periodical. The political opinions of the reviewer and those of the author differ somewhat widely. I do not mean to say the difference affects the impartiality of the literary judge with respect to the author; but as the reviewer identifies the opinions of the author with the principles of those whose lives and actions he records, it is possible that the rigid justice of criticism may bend to the strong convictions of the politician, and that the subjects, at least, of the work reviewed, may not have all the justice done to them which is required at the hands of an unbiassed critic.

As to the strictures on myself, however severe they may be, I have no right to complain of them; I have no reason to expect they should be complimentary, favourable, or agreeable to me.

The reviewer is perfectly consistent, I have no doubt, in speaking disparagingly of my performance, and, perhaps, conscientious in his reprobation of my opinions, and the expression of his contempt for my efforts to redeem the memories of some of the men of '98 from the obloquy that has been, as he thinks, deservedly thrown on them. I have no business to meddle with any judgment the reverend gentleman, in his critical capacity, pronounces on them.

I have been told it was incumbent on me to reply to those strictures-that they were injurious to my work. I differ, however, with those who expressed that opinion. If the reviewer has dealt fairly and justly with my work, his condemnation will be detrimental to it, and no effort of mine to do away with the unfavourable impression thus made by him, would, pr ought to be, of any avail; but if he has condemned my book without just cause-though he may hurt its haracter for the time being-yet, in the long run, justice will prevail; whatever merit may be in the work will outlive the malice of the reviewer-the critic will find that he has not crushed the author,

and may recall, perhaps, "the good old times" when picketting, pitch-capping, scourging, half-hanging, freequartering, house-ransacking, cabin-burning, peasantshooting, croppy-hanging, and such like recreations, were not called in question, and spoken of irreverently with impunity.

For this reason, I have stated I will make no reply to the strictures of the reviewer in the Dublin University Magazine, on "The Lives and Times of the United Irishmen," that have reference to the author. For similar reasons I have abstained from replying to any criticisms on works of mine, throughout a literary career of nearly twenty years, though I have published in that period one-and-twenty volumes, and shared the fate of most authors, in respect to the treatment of their works-deeming the criticism, author-like, of course, extremely unjust, whenever it was exceedingly disagreeable and severe. In a word, I do not think authors ever better their publishers' interests, or their own, by appealing to the public from the judgment of their reviewers. If the subject they treat of is likely to suffer from the misstatement of an important fact, on the part of those who undertake to think for the public, and legislate for its taste, it is proper such a mis-statement should not go unnoticed; but any thing beyond a mere reference to facts, and a simple refutation of assertions at variance with them, is not only uncalled for, but calcu lated to give an undue importance to the efforts of assailants, who sometimes may appear very formid able, and yet, in reality, be very ephemeral, and incapable of serious mischief.

The assertion of the reviewer, in a former notice of the third series of this volume, that the account given by General Corbet, of his escape from Kilmainham jail," is a pure fiction," that "the whole story bears the stamp of falsehood," is a mis-statement of fact, ot the nature above referred to, that requires to be noticed; and a very slight notice suffices for its refutation. The language applied to one of the most

honourable men who ever breathed (for such was the late General Corbet) requires no invective, no violent, vulgar, virulent, and unmeasured terms, in replying to it. It is not worthy of anger or imitation. William Corbet is deliberately charged by the reviewer with "falsehood," with being, in fact, by an act of vainglorious fraud, a braggart, an imposter, and a liar!

"What does the reader think of the gullibility of Doctor Madden," says the reviewer, "who can set forth such a narrative as veracious history." I willingly leave the matter of the imputed "gullibility" of the author to the reader. All I claim any right to "think" of, is the impugned veracity of the subject of the reviewed memoir, William Corbet. The answer to the attack on his character, needs not many words.

The life of this brave, good man-his name-his fame-his friendships with Moore, with Emmet, with Weir, with Allen, with the most distinguished men of the army, in which he served with so much distinction-his services as a soldier-his conduct in all the relations of life-amply suffice for a reply to the bold assertions of the Dublin University reviewer against the honor of General William Corbet.

The account of his imprisonment in Kilmainham jail, and his escape from it, was written by himself. It was transmitted from Paris, by him, to his sister, Mrs. Lyons, of Cork, My old and venerated friend, Thomas Lyons (late mayor of that city) obtained for me a copy of the document in question, from Mrs. Lyons, and I published it on the faith of the character for truth and honor, never called in question, of Mr. Thomas Lyons, well knowing that his acquaintance and family connection with Mrs. Lyons, made the question of its authenticity one that he was most comfetent to decide on, and that if a doubt of its authentcity existed, the document never would have been laced in my hands by him.

The reviewer little knew the character of the man The charged with falsehood and imposture. If he knew t, and made this assault on Corbet's honor, believing

him still to be a living man, the act would simply be in accordance with the policy of the literary Cherokees of Orangeism-it would be a mere murderous onslaught on an adverse party's character; but if the reviewer were acquainted with the worth and truth of that high-minded person, and charged, him, notwithstanding, with being a man of falsehood, a miserable fabricator of fictitious accounts of adventures, and counted on the security which death affords for similar slanderous assertions-then the act would not only be murderous in its malice, but dastardly in the mode of doing it.

I take for granted that the reviewer knew nothing of the character of William Corbet. I am disposed to think, had he known even so much of it as he seems to have done of that of Robert Emmet, he would have contented his zeal for the good old cause of his party, as it existed in the reign of terror in this country, by expending a great deal more of his wrath on the political principles of Corbet, and spurting much less venom on the grave of a brave Irishman, who was loved by all who knew him in his own country, and honoured for his truth and integrity in a foreign land, where he died in exile, and where his memory is still dear to his countrymen, and his companions in

arms.

In the execution of the task of writing the Lives and Times of the United Irishmen, I have often had to deal with cruel outrages on the private characters of the prominent actors in "the rebellion of '98." I have had difficulties to surmount, in dealing with that unprincipled systematic policy of Irish Orangeism -warfare with the dead, and warfare to the death with the character and fame of its victims and opponents. But though difficulties may be surmounted in defeating that infernal policy, it is not so easy to surmount one's feelings of disgust and loathing, in the performance of this task.

It certainly needs an effort to overcome feelings of more than ordinary disgust, to have the task imposed