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In concluding this epistle, I have to thank you, gentlemen,
for your indulgence, not only to myself, but to your enemies also. Tiie Irish Republic, like the sun in the heavens, sheds its benefits on all alike. May it, like the glorious luminary it imitates, continue to be an object of admiration to all who love the warmth and light of liberty and truth. Respectfully, J. T. Blakeney. —-««»>► St. Patrick and the Snakes (Copperhead). Albany, N. Y., March 23,1868. My Dear Republic : St. Patrick’s Day has once more merged into the past. The usual concomitants of religious observance, ostentatious parade, maudlin exhibitions and dyspepsia-inducing banquets, have this anniversary, in our ancient Dutch city, been supplemented by modern improve ments, which deserve more than mere passing remark. Only think of it! and bate your editorial breath while I impart the astounding news. Irish soldiers, wearing green jackets, have been permitted to enter God’s temple, and wor ship with those who wore coats of glossy black. What a stunning concession ! and how proud we ought to be at this recognition of our common humanity. While declaring emphatically that nolaiv—Divineor human—ever warranted their exclusion, it is matter for congratulation that our Right Rev. Bishop has thus publicly evinced his warm sympathy with the holy cause of Irish nationality. For about half a century the Hibernian Provident Society gathered around its festive board, each returning year, choice spirits who closed the day in patriotic song, sentiment, wit and sad remembrance of kindred souls whose dust mingled with a strange (though friendly) soil. The laboring poor man—the plethoric-pursed rich man—greeted each other fraternally at the groaning board. “ Then none were for a Party, and all were for the State— The proud man helped the poor, and the poor man lov’d thegrreat.” But, alas ! for “ auld lang syne.” Nabobs—whether the offspring of successful Canal trade, pig-jobbing, wdiisky spec ulation, cloth-cabbaging, clay-delving, or the unclean drip pings of politics—determined to have a select affair at the Delavan House. “ Ifere may we reign secure; and in my choice To reign is worth ambition, though in hell.” said the chief medicine-man. Straightway every office-holder of Democratic faith was heavily assessed—from the highest down to scavenger of the market—that their codfish element might soar beyond reach of the common herd. The “ Sons of St. Patrick ” they dubbed themselves, this picked crew, whose organization, fungus-like, perished with the dawn. An argus-eyed journalist played “Big Injun” at the feast; and, after a simple prayer by our most excellent bishop, bid the anomalous gathering “fall to!” which they did by order ing the most incomprehensible dishes with unpronouncable foreign names (this last difficulty a pencil-mark on bill of fare surmounted). Stomachs being relieved from the long day’s fast, “ the feast of reason and flow of soul” ensued, with champagne galore. Letters were read from Hofiman & Co.—then came the “standing toasts.” The first, to “St. Patrick,” was responded to by a patriotic priest, whose words of hope gave a silver lining to the clouds of Ireland’s misery. The second, to “ Ireland,” gave opportunity for a played-out Copperhead politician—time and again spewed from the mouths of his countrymen—to strut his brief moment on the stage, while ventilating commonplaces interlarded with vulgar treason. The third, to “ America,” drew from our Democratic attorney-general a quick torrent of disloyal vituperations, vile as the cause it was intended to bolster. Now came the crowning feature—fourth standing toast, to “ The President of the United States.” Cheers from every slavish throat; and, during the din, there arose a hoary headed form, which discovered the Congressman from this district. Most noble scion of a cobbler, how your aristocratic heart must have bled to be forced to “ drown the shamrock ” in ’68 with those who in ’66 were not worth one moment’s diversion from the dignified occupation of dressing for din ner. Refusing an audience to Fenians cost him the Irish vote—lickspittling to traitors may win him a coveted secre taryship. “ Fellow-citizens and Democrats—for Irishmen are Democrats,” quote he; and upon this built a superstructure of falsehood teeming with violent political denunciations such as would have disgraced the hustings. Shame, and beware! old man, for “the day of tribulation’s coming.” “The Governor and State officers” (never joined in toast before, and now only a deliberate insult to the chief magis trate of our State) was responded to by the Secretary of State in language which disappointed those Mentors who only bargained for partisan gall and wormwood. He had shown loyalty on the field, and could not emit the foul slime of treason. “ The Cause of Civil and Religious Liberty throughout the World” (of which these managers have as much dread as the archfiend of holy water)was responded to by Hon.Chauncey M. Depew—late Republican Secretary of State—in language replete with rich gems of thought and pearls of wisdom. But the noble words were cast before swine—men with liberty on their lips and slavery in their hearts, who “wear the livery of the Court of Heaven to serve the devil in.” An ex-mem ber of Assembly from Erie, (doing the bidding of his masters, who had given him dead-head admission,) insulted Mr. Depew in such gross language as loosed the tongues of some true men in hisses which squelched the debauched creatme. But he was a virulent Copperhead, and that virtue, to argus eyes, covers a multitude of sins. “The Constitution of the United States” brought to his feet a former Democratic gubernatorial candidate, (father-in law of “ye ancient” Congressman before mentioned,) who displayed to great advantage the cloven foot of scarcely-re pressed treason. Then came the lesser lights of Democracy, who carefully followed the trail of their predecessors; but with less rhetorical clothing to hide the naked deformity of their sentiments. Seymour and Cagger were, the political suns around which these pigmy asterisks principally revolved. The affair was, in effect, a mere Democratic love-feast—a convention to air doctrines repugnant to American progress —ending in bitter feelings which will change roses to ashes on the lips of its originators. Scarce a word for poor old Ireland—Godsend her freedom despite her degenerate sons! No songs to stir up sweet memories of Fatherland, save by one true man, whose feet re cently pressed the green sod beneath which his ancestors sleep. No legends of Erin’s ancient glory ; no scintilations of Irish wit, followed by quick reparte. No volunteer toasts, express ive of kindly feeling, or to mark the passing hour. All these must give way—trodden to the dust by the huge jug gernaut of so-called Democracy. “How long, O Lord !” shall thy faithful people remain blind to truth, and their feet stray in the path of error ? Will the day ever come when, casting aside the shackles of mere party, they will follow the steady flame which shall illuminate all nations with the dazzling light of universal liberty? What degree of abasement will they submit to before trampling under foot those demagogues who, when elections are at hand, will “roar you gently as a sucking dove ; ” but on social occasions treat you as mere hewers of wood and drawers of water, and even refuse the crumbs which fall from their richly-laden tables? Independent Fenian. —-11^11 A Voice from Ireland. [The following is from the pen of a young Catholic clergy man, whose heartfelt sorrow over the wreck and ruin wrought by division among his countrymen does honor to the cloth he wears.—Eds. I. R.] How long, O Lord! how long? Such was the cry of the Israelites, in former days, in their wandering through the desert, panting with all the eagerness of their souls for the promised land. And in those evil days do we hear the self same cry from an enslaved people crying to Heaven for vengeance, and at the same time to their brothers in exile to give them means of wreaking ample vengeance on their oppressors, and of unloosing that sense of wrong so long pent up in their hearts and handed down to them generation after generation for the last seven hundred years. You hear it from the scaffold, from your martyred dead ! You hear it from the dungeon, from your condemned bro thers ! And, finally, from the hearths of every homestead in Ireland; from all those Irishmen who no less wish for the emancipation of their dear country from British slavery than did the children of Israel for the promised land. I ask you now, my countrymen in exile, shall you refuse them the aid they expected, and that they so long sighed for, and in expectation of which so many of our dear countrymen have suffered ? Shall we be deserted in this our hour of trial? Shall ye turn your backs to us, and say I know you not? To these questions I had hopes, in former days, that I could give a favorable solution ; but now it seems to me that they were only hopes—possibilities never to be realized— fleeting imaginations, ending only in a dream. What other solution can any man give to them now, if, judging from the continual warfare kept up between our countrymen in Amer ica, England thus fights us with our own weapons. I only wish that I could give the question a more joyous answer; for I say that it would gladden the heart of every Irishman to hear that their countrymen, no matter in what part of the world the sun shines upon them, were united in one brotherly bond of affection; for it is then, and not till then, they can fling back in the teeth of their enemies that taunt so often thrown in our face, that “Ireland can fight every other nation’s battles except her own.” I say, give us the means and we will let the world see that we are able to fight and win our own battles. Are we always to continue in a state of bondage, and to be trampled on and despised ? I shall say no, in the utmost expectation that a star is about to rise in the west, and that it will be our brothers’guiding light; and hoping that it will not set in the east until it can issue forth its sparkling effulgence on a liberated Ireland, making her look as beautiful as the sun that rules the day in all its splendor— “ For she is as fair as Shannon side, And purer than its waters.” Then would the homes made desolate by the evil machin ations of a tyrant government bless and praise the wombs that gave you birth, and then Ireland would raise her droop ing head and walk proudly among the nations of the earth. In the name of Heaven, be ye united, and let not the flower of our country pine in British dungeons. Or, are ye waiting until the pressure from inside shall break open the doors of their prisons for them ? I ask you again to be united, and let past bickering be cast into oblivion, and ye will have the blessing of the widow and the orphan, and the prayers of thousands of brave Irish hearts. Rory o’ the Hills. LATE NEWS. With regard to the impeachment trial at Washington, “it is generally conceded,” says the correspondent of the Tribune, one of the best informed and most reliable of the New York daily journals, “that the evidence as presented by the prose cution leaves not the shadow of a doubt of the conviction of the President. Gentlemen of the legal profession regard it as the most complete case ever sent to a jury, and the Man agers feel confident that the defense cannot answer their arguments or impeach the testimony. The President’s coun sel have been so signally beaten that it is not improbable that they may retire from the case. A rumor to that effect was in circulation in well-informed circles to-day, and it is said that the President has been advised to resign.” The Senate was in open session on Saturday, April 4th, at 12 o’clock, when the Chief-Justice entered the Chamber and immediately organized the Court of Impeachment. The Managers on the part of the House and the House itself were consecutively announced ; after which the journal was read. Not more than forty representatives were in the Chamber at any time during the day, and those who came from a distance in the hope of witnessing the assembled wisdom of the nation in one Chamber at the same time, were grievously disappointed. The galleries, however, were filled, though here and there were some vacant seats. As on pre vious days, the ladies out-numbered the gentlemen, and were mainly the intimate friends of Congressmen. The first wit ness called was Mr. Walbridge, who testified that he fully and accurately reported the speech made by the President at St. Louis on September 8, I860, and a speech made at a banquet at the same city on the same evening, both of which he had compared with notes immediately after publication ; and, on another occasion, about twelve months ago, when the Judiciary Committee were investigating the New Orleans riots. Mr. Butler offered in evidence the newspapers con taining the speech, which was read by the Clerk. Mr. Evarts cross-examined the witness about ten minutes, but nothing material was elicited. Mr. Joseph A. Dear, editor of the Jersey City Times, was the next witness. He testified that lie was on the trip around the circle as correspondent of the Chicago Republican, and that he reported the speed* above referred to for the St. Louis Times. The speech was repro duced verbatim by that newspaper, with the exception of a few words of incorrect English which he had corrected. Mr. Stanbery cross-examined the witness relative to the time required to write out short-hand notes, and the probabilities of a long-hand writer being able to correctly report a fluent speaker. Mr. Robert S. Chew, an old gentleman who has been in the State Department for the last thirty-four years, testified concerning the wording of commissions, before and subsequent to the Tenure of Office law, when a change was made. Mr. Butler then putin evidence all the appointments and removals of the heads of departments, as they appear in the records of the State Department since the foundation of the Government. This led to a little fencing between counsel, in which General Butler, as usual, drove his antag onists to the wall. General Butler then read from the ninth volume of the works of John Adams the official letters between Mr. Adams and Timothy Pickering, relative to Pickering’s removal from the office of Secretary of State. The defense had intended to produce this as a part of their case, but on referring to the journal of the Executive Ses sion of that year the Managers found that it could be made one of the strongest points for the prosecution, as the journal shows that Mr. Adams, in this instance, acted with the con sent of the Senate, and not without it, as the opposite side had supposed. General Butler then proved by Mr. Creecy, who was recalled, that the President had informed certain officers of the Treasury of the suspension of Secretary Stan ton, which he closed the case for the prosecution. The President’s counsel then asked an adjournment to Thursday, which, after debate, was granted. General Grant has announced it as his opinion that the only hope for the peace of the country is the success of the pending Impeachment trial. He feels that national security demands the removal of the President. If the trial should fail, the people can only expect more assumptions of power, and a more determined resistance to law. When the Gen eral of our armies entertains this conviction there is no room for doubt as to the duty of the Senate. The loyal nation de mands the President’s removal. The Canadian volunteers for the Pope got into a row with the people of Marseilles, and wanted to thrash them. The authorities were appealed to for protection against these ad venturers from the New World. Mexican advices are to April 1. A bill had been intro duced into Congress making all resident foreigners, except Americans, citizens of the Republic, and, of course, liable the same as natives. Another conspiracy was discovered in which a noted American was involved. The question of in terest on the Mexican bonds held by England, the press says, foreshadows trouble with England and France, and urges the Government to cultivate a friendly feeling with the United States. A bill, forbidding the exporting of gold by British subjects, has been passed. Negrete is moving on Tulancings for a forced loan of $60,000. Advices from Jamaica are to March 29. The admiralty, in anticipation of trouble on account cf the Alabama claims, had been calling home seamen from tho colonies to serve in the ironclads. Orders had been received to fortify Port Royal. Great activity was displayed in all the docks. The gunboats Jason and Favorite had been testing their sailing abilities and the working of their batteries. Each com mander is to make a full report of the result to the admiralty. THE REMAINS OP DANIEL MANIN—LETTER PROM VICTOR HUGO. A Florence dispatch says: “On the evening of the 21st of March the remains of Daniel Manin were conveyed by water from the railway to the Church of San Zaccaro, fol lowed by State barges with their representatives from the Italian Senate and Chamber of Deputies, the members of the Municipality, and Foreign Commissioners. An immense number of gondolas also followed. The grand canal and all the boats in the procession were illuminated, thus forming a magnificent spectacle. The houses displayed mourning draperies. Victor Hugo was invited to take part in the ceremony at Venice on the 22d. The following is the reply: “ I am written to from Venice and asked if I have not a word to say on this glorious day of the 22d of March. Yes, and this is the word: Venice was torn from Manin as Rome from Garibaldi. Manin dead takes re-possession of Venice, as Garibaldi living will re-enter Rome. France has no more right to weigh on Rome than Austria had to weigh on Venice. A like usurpation shall have a like conclusion; and this conclusion which shall increase Italy shall increase France: for every righteous act done by a nation is a great act. France become free shall stretch forth her hand to unite Italy. And the two nations shall love each other. I say it with heartfelt joy, I who am a child of France and a younger child of Italy. Tiie triumph of Manin to-day foretells the triumph of Gari baldi to-morrow. This 22d of March is a harbinger. Such sepulchers are full of promise. Manin was a combatant and an exile for the right; lie fought for principles; he held on high the sword of light. He, like Garibaldi, had the gentleness of heroism. Italian liberty, visible though veiled, stands erect behind her coffin. She will unvail. And then she will become Peace while continuing to be Liberty. This is the meaning of Manin’s re-entrance into Venice. In a dead man like Manin there is hope. Victor Hugo.” STEPHEN J. MEANEY. The health of Mr. Stephen J. Meany, who was sentenced to fifteen years’ penal servitude, seems to have been failing him, for he has been removed from Pentonville to a sanitary station in Surrey. Mrs. Meanv has this week received a letter from the Home Office, informing her that her husband will be sent out of the country on condition that he promises never again to return to it.—Liverpool Post. Personal. The friends of Mr. D. £. Lyddy, of Limerick, who has acted in various positions of importance in the Irish Revo lutionary Brotherhood, and who has been for the last year in a British jail, will be glad to hear of his arrival in New York. Mr. Lyddy is in good health and spirits, and, not withstanding the seeming chaos into which dissensions have flung our Organization, is sanguine that all will yet be well. Nothing can daunt these “I. R. B.” men.