struck at the real keynote of Ireland's misery to-day. The spirit of
oppression followed them into the privacy of their lives. Even their
wives were chosen for them by their teachers. Small wonder the
English government could enforce brutal and unjust laws when the
very freedom of choosing their mates and of having any voice in the
control of their own homes was denied them.

To Father Cahill such words were blasphemy. He looked at O'Connell
in horror.

"Have ye done?" he asked.

"What else I may have to say will be said on St. Kernan's Hill this
afternoon."

"There will be no meetin' there to-day," cried the priest.

"Come and listen to it," replied the agitator.

"I've forbidden my people to go."

"They'll come if I have to drag them from their homes."

"I've warned the resident-magistrate. The police will be there if ye
thry to hold a meetin'."

"We'll outnumber them ten to one."

"There'll be riotin' and death." "Better to die in a good cause than
to live in a bad one," cried O'Connell. "It's the great dead who