In Ireland they always call him "Lord Edward." There is no other Lord Edward for them. His picture, with that of Robert Emmet, hangs among the colored effigies of the saints on every cabin wall and grows browner with the turf-smoke. There it is, the irresistibly gay, roguish, tender face as we view it in Hunt's portrait: nut-brown is a loose shock of hair, though those were the days of powder; brown-eyed, set off delightfully by the revolutionary dress; the green coat, the red cravat, the white breeches. The mouth is as sweet as a girl's, and the black eyebrows are lifted with a whimsical air.

That very "wearing of the green" once brought him into an adventure when returning from the Curragh races to the cottage at Kildare, where he and Pamela and the little child of their love lived during an idyllic season of love and joy. Then he was wearing a cravat of green, and already loyal people were beginning to fight shy of the United Irish

men.

Lord Edward, with his friend Arthur O'Connor, was cantering home gaily to "Pam" and "the young plant" in the dews of the evening after the race had been won. Hard on the steps of the riders came clattering ten or a dozen officers, who, riding past them at full gallop, suddenly wheeled round and

barred their way. "Take off your rebelly cravat," they cried. But they had mistaken the spirit the spirit of the Geraldine, the noblest of all that race of great soldiers and statesmen. Lord Edward faced them. "Your cloth would speak you to be gentlemen," he said, "but your conduct conveys another impression. As to this neck-cloth that offends you, here I stand! Let any man among you

LADY EDWARD FITZGERALD.

belles of that day were on the side of Lord Edward.

The Fitzgeralds are the noblest line in Ireland. Sprung from an Italian ancestry, they had come to be merged in the Normans by the time they landed on the Irish shores with Strongbow. All the world knows how, fostered on the milk of Irish mothers and born into the dewy Irish country, they became more Irish than the Irish; of the great Earl of Kildare, of whom Henry VII. said: "Since all Ireland cannot govern the Earl of Kildare, the Earl of Kildare shall govern all Ireland"; of Silken Thomas and his Rebellion against England; of the Desmond Fitzgeralds and their Rebellion, which went out under a bloody pall, leaving all fair Munster to the terrible famine which Spenser described; of all these things I have no time to tell, though the telling were well worth while.

take it off." None of the warriors volunteered for the service. After a minute, during which they stared at each other, Arthur O'Connor interposed, saying that if any two of the gentlemen would send their friends he and Lord Edward would be found at the cottage at Kildare. The crestfallen attacking party watched them ride off into the night without a word, and no challenge was sent, though Lord Edward and his friend waited in expectation many days. The thing got noised about, and at a ball shortly afterwards these officers were entirely boycotted by the ladies present, which shows that the sympathies of the

It must have cost them a pang to cease being earls of Kildare when they became dukes of Leinster. The first duke was Lord Edward's father. His mother was Emilia Mary, daughter of the Duke of Richmond. Lord Edward was the fifth son. When he was ten years old his father died and not long after the duchess married Mr. William Ogilvie, who had been. her sons' tutor. Moore in his "Life" of Lord Edward mentions Mr. Ogilvie as a gentleman of an ancient Scottish family, "being the representative of the first holder, of that name, of the bar