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Emmett after his Conviction Letter to Richard Curran

Parting interview with Miss Curran-His death.

The unfortunate young man retired from the hall of his mock-trial to his dungeonshowing the same firmness that ever characterized him. He felt that he had made an honest effort to save his country from oppression, and that in so doing he had made a martyr of himself. Soon he was led to the scaffoldindeed his enemies were so eager for the blood of their victim, that he was executed on the day following his trial.

The following is a copy of his letter to RICHARD CURRAN, the brother of his betrothed:

“My dearest Richard :-I find I have but a few hours to live, but if it was the last moment, and that the power of utterance was leaving me, I would thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generous expressions of affection and forgiveness to me.

If there was any one in the world in whose breast my death may be supposed not to stifte every spark of resentment, it might be you. I have deepJy injured you I have injured the happiness of

a sister that you love, and who was formed to give happiness to every one about her, instead of having her own mind a prey to affliction. Oh! Richard, I have no excuse to offer, but that I meant the reverse: I intended as much happiness for Sarah as the most ardent love could have given her. I never did tell you how much I idolized her: it was not with a wild or unfounded passion, but it was an attachment increasing every hour, from an admiration of the purity of her mind, and respect for her talents. I did dwell in secret upon the prospect of our union. I did hope that success, while it afforded the opportunity of our union, might be the means of confirming an attachment, which misfortune had called forth. I did not look to honors for myself; praise I would have asked from the lips of no man; but I would have wished to read in the glow of Saralı's countenance, that her husband was respected.

"My love, Sarah! it was not thus that I thought to have requited your affections. I did hope to be a prop round which your affections might have chung, and which would never have been shaken, but a rude blast bas siapfed it, and they have fallen over a grave.

"This is no time for affliction. I have had public motives to sustain my mind, and I have not suffered it to sink : but there have been moments in my imprisonment when my mind was so sunk by grief on her account, that death would have been a refuge.

God bless you, my dearest Richard. I am obliged to leave off immediately.

ROBERT EMMETT.' This letter was written at twelve o'clock on the day of Mr. Emmett’s execution, and the firmness and regularity of the original handwriting contains a striking and affecting proof of the little influence which the approaching event exerted over his frame. The same enthusiasm which allured him to his destiny, enabled him to support its utmost rigour. Ile met his fate with unostentations fortitude; and although few will be found bold enough to justify his projects, since they were unsuccessful, yet his youth, his talents, the great respectability of his connections, and the evident delusion of which he was the victim, have excited more general sympathy for his unfortunate end, and more forbearance towards his memory, than is usually extended to the errors or sufferings of political offenders.

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What brought forth this wonderful effort of a young gentleman, unaided and unsupported by any rational system of organization, uncountenanced but by the humblest men in society, relying on his own great energies, and the thousand circumstances which chance might throw up on the surface of the political ocean? What animated the mind and spirit of Emmett, night after night, and day after day? What? His enemies will say it was ambition, a hope of personal aggrandizement, and a speculation of personal exaltation, a sanguinary purpose to raise himself on the ruins of all that was respected and cherished in society. To such enemies we will reply that, if ever an enthusiast was animated with a pure and unadulterated sentiment of the most disinterested anxiety for the freedom of his native country--if ever there was a human being who was ready to lay down his life for the comfort and happiness of his fellow-creatures- if ever there was a heart that sincerely sympathised with the sufferings of mankind, or that would cheerfully devote itself at the altar, if such a sacrifice could procure the liberty of Ireland - ROBERT EMMETT was that man.

With an intellect of the highest order, elas

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quence powerful, commanding, and inexhaustible; an integrity which no force could bend; a spirit which no danger or suffering could intimidate; born of parents who were the pride and boast of their country; the brother of those men who in the birthday of Ireland's freedom, illuminated the political firmament, and gave their country a hope that her freedom would be immortal ; the witness of her fall, and the spectator of her degradation, he gave himself up to the dreams of his own imagination, and thought he saw the liberties of his country achieved before he had formed his plan to secure them. With all the customary characteristics of an enthusiast, he seemed to disdain those humble calculations by which all human objects are to be obtained. But Emmett achieved what no other man but himself would have dared to attempt. With his single mind, and his single arm, he organized thousands of his countrymen, and beseiged the government of the country in their strongest position.

The evening before his death, Miss Curran was admitted into his dungeon to bid him her eternal farewell. He was leaning in a melancholy mood against the window of the prison, and the heavy clanking of his chains smote

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