In alternate verse and prose the poet then relates how King Domhhall built a fort by the Boyne, and saw in a dream (afterwards interpreted), that his foster-son would become traitor, and strive to deprive him of his life and kingdom. By advice of the interpreter he made a feast, intending to secure the future mischief-maker (then invited) for a year and a day, by which time the venom would be extracted from the prediction. He then would load him with gifts, and honourably dismiss him. His stewards, and law-givers, and rent-collectors, were sent in all directions to gather in provisions, principally goose-eggs, as they were scarce at the time. Now behold how a great evil will arise out of a little wrong. The questors going through Meath, entered a little hermitage, where dwelt a religious, black-hooded woman. They found with her a basket of goose-eggs, and were carrying them off with much joy, when the recluse attempted to arrest them by this statement :

"A wonder-working saint of God's people dwells here, namely, Bishop Erc, of Slaine, and his custom is to remain immersed in the Boinn up to his two armpits from morning till evening, having his psalter before him on the strand, constantly engaged in prayer; and his dinner every evening on returning hither is an egg and a-half and three sprigs of the cresses of the Boinn; and it behoves you not to take away from him the small store of food which he has.""

eggs and (probably) basket, and thereby inflicted much woe on the country, which came about thus:- While the royal and noble guests were feasting in high luxury, each with a large goose-egg before him on a silver dish, behold the article served to Congal Claen, the foster-son, was converted into the egg of a red-feathered hen on a wooden trencher! Great was his rage. He killed the king's Rechtaire on the spot, travelled to the courts of the Kings of Alba, Saxonland, and Britain, returned with auxiliaries to dispossess his foster-father and sovereign, and "myriads were sent to Hades," and all because the taxgatherers of the King of Erin had oppressed and defrauded the poor saint and the recluse.

In the account of the Battle of Magh Rath, fought in consequence of what took place at the feast, are descriptions which, for close observation and vigour of description, would not be unworthy of any bard, ancient or modern, were it not for the heavy load of epithets and the bombast with which the whole composition is overcharged.*

But the bard, whether a Cano, a Cli, an Amrath, or an Ollav, has at last finished his tale, or come to a resting-place, and is probably rewarded with a ring of gold, or a carved brooch, or a silver goblet.† High and low have at last retired to their confined dormitories; and if the poor women-slaves, a good one of whom was valued at three cows, are not obliged to stay up, laboriously crushing corn, in their small querns, they must be early risers tomorrow, to have the abundant supply of flat cakes ready for the families of their hard-fighting and hard-hunting

masters.

colonized, in the fifth century, by Ulstermen, under the command of Donal and Fergus. The conical birredh has changed to the peaked Glengarry bonnet. The wide-skirted, many-folded tunic is represented by the belted plaid, and the chief's close trews are the tradition of the manycoloured bracce that once girt the limbs of Irish chiefs. The various hues, the distinctive mark of high rank, are still dear to their Ersespeaking descendants.

The poets and historians who dwelt on the exploits of Flaiths or Tiernachs, or Curaidhs, seldom condescended to dwell on the useful lives of the bodachs and brughadhs, and traders, that must have passed from rath to rath, and kept up a sort of communication between the isolated country residences and the towns on the sea-coasts and banks of navigable rivers.

Where there were no inland markettowns, periodical meetings, or fairs were absolutely necessary; and there was increased vigilance on the part of the Flaith, in whose country such assemblage was held, that the peaceful traders should not be molested going or coming.

In the earliest manuscripts extant, there is mention of carbadhs (cars or chariots), and there were no less than seven names given to the different classes of ways and roads. The five great roads of Ireland are described in the "Dinseanchus," and the regulations for cleaning them given, so that the industrious classes were not so badly off when they had need of conveying the produce of their lands, or driving their cattle to this or that fair.

The ways were thus distinguished: -The set was a by-path sufficient for the passage of one beast. A ro-shet (great path) gave room to a car or chariot. A ram-hat was sufficiently wide for a street or way before a lis or dun. The man whose land touched this ram-hat, was obliged to aid in cleaning it. The slighe afforded room for two chariots to pass without touching. The tuaghrota extended from the farmer's bawn to the ro-shet, or to the mountain. They are still represented by the stony lanes leading from the farm-houses to the high-roads. The

bothar (now boreen) afforded room for a cow and calf to pass, even if another cow was disobligingly standing across the lane.

The five great roads have now to be mentioned. Slighe dala led from Tara to Ossory. Slighe asail went towards Mullingar. Slighe midhlua chra conveyed people and cattle to the North. Slighe cualann connected Tara with Dublin; and Slighe Mhor followed the line of the Eiscir Riadha from Dublin to Galway.

These roads were to be cleaned from wood, from water, and from weeds; and there were particular times for the operation. With a glance at the seasons we must bring our glimpse into the modes of life of the old Irish to a close.

It is not now very certain at what portion of the year they commenced their reckoning. Earrach (the Latin Ver, or the Greek tap) began about the first of February. Samhradh (pronounced savra or saura), summer, commenced with the Beltane fires at Uisneach on May-day. The opening of Foghmhar, harvest, coincided with Lughnasa (Lammas), the fair and games of Tailtean, where marriages, &c., were arranged.

Geimhridh, winter, was inaugurated by the druidic fires, at Thlachta, at Samhain, summer end, November 1st. Space, and indeed, inclination, fails us to give the arbitrary divisions of the day used by our ancestors, it was a most uncomfortable complication.

We need make no apology for not having attempted in detail many other curious subjects connected with the theme we have selected; but it has appeared to us more expedient to present a few phases of old life in Ireland, in as interesting a garb as we could fashion, than to give mere skeleton outlines of the whole panorama. The gradual publication of those works mentioned in the beginning of the article, together with the Seanchus Mhor, or common law of the country, said to have been remodelled in the time of St. Patrick, so as to adapt it to the requirements of Christian society-the publication of these with literal translation and notes, will enable some gifted man or men to write a good history, and give something resembling a life-like picture of the social and political state of the

country at the eras of paganism, early Christianity, the troubled period of the Danish invasions, and the time that intervened till the descent of Strongbow. The object of the paper

will be attained if some readers to whom the subject is new be induced to extend their explorations much deeper than they have penetrated under our guidance.*

GREAT LIVES.

"QU'EST ce qu'une grande vie? une pensé de la jeunesse exécuté par l'age mûr," says a Frenchman-a definition whose truth is involved in the nature of the idea conceived and executed by the genius. There are the two grand lives-that of thought, invention, creation, eliminating new conceptions, and new truths, fruitful in results; and the life of action, executive of conceptions and ideas, tending to the civilization, enlightenment, happiness, and progress of mankind. No matter how vast the amount of genius and labour exhibited in an individual life, in either department, it cannot be considered great unless it fulfils in its results the above conditions. Superhuman effort, irrespective of general progressive consequences; the antique idea was natural to mankind in their stage of pagan civilization; in epochs of war and slavery-a hecatomb of millions, nations conquered and in chains, a world in ruins-were the triumphs of heroic genius. The subjugation of an inferior people by one in a more advanced condition was occasionally attended by beneficial consequences, as regards fusion and government; but all such effects produced by the antique system-military, social, and theocratic-have been immeasurably superseded by those of an age of commerce and intellectual communication, illustrated by the

victories of peace. The greatness of pagan antiquity was, in a great measure, barbaric. Alexander wept when he reflected on the conquests which Philip, at his age, had achieved; Cæsar, at what Alexander had effected in war at an age long past which he was still employed in occupations merely civil. To pile up pyramids and found empires-even in philosophy to aggregate an empire of human opinions (Plato), or, athlete-like, to display a splendid and victorious logic, based on principles empirical, false, and inutilitarian (Aristotle); to form, in short, a monument of mental power, manifested in either thought or action, was the egotistic ideal of antique grandeur. In the more enlightened alturistic age into which mankind have marched over the wreck of centuries, amid the errors of ons slowly clouding away, how insignificant appear the motives, standards, and lives of the great men of antiquity, regarded in their results upon the future of mankind-those brains of mighty armies meditating and achieving victories whose glories were oceans of blood and mountains of bones-compared with Newton in his study, lifting the veil from the mind of Divinity, and advancing the intelligence of man into immensity; or of Watt, in his workshop, combining simple elements, to civilize the world. Contrast even the burning glasses of Archimedes with the safety

lamp of Davy, and behold the prospective greatness of the modern scientific soul, no less powerful, and more divine. Certainly, true victories are those which conquer and illuminate the future. The destroyers of mankind-forms of a world still rudestruggling from chaos and darkness into light, are slowly disappearing from the world's history, and giving place to their civilizers, benefactors, and saviours-succeedents in many various ways of the heaven-descended, whose manifold work and objects those of making men better and happier-they execute. Love one another was the voice of the star that shone over Galilee, which inaugurated true civilization, all whose lights are realizations of that law. The Christian God of peace, light, and love, ruler of the future, has established his special and correlative hierarchy; his spirit animates the sons of industry, of science and art-ministering angels whose mission it is to beautify and elevate life-the élite of humanity, the geniuses who labour to make man godlike, and thus realize heaven on this star, by constructing a society, worshipful of truth, beauty, and love, noble in action and aspiration, progressive in order-the most splendid temple man can raise to the perfect Spirit of the universe.

ART-DRAMATIC AND DESCRIPTIVE.

THERE are two elements of narrative art-the picturesque and dramatic; one of which paints to the eye, the other to the mind and passions. The picturesque depends on a proper selection and contrast of objects in harmony with place, time, and person; the graphic is the power of representing scenes or characters in a few strong but coarser touches. Dramatic art depends on well-managed suspense and surprise, upon strong contrasts of character, and incident, from which fluctuations of emotion are produced, whether terrible, sorrowful, interesting, or humorous. Theatrical success, however, is a consequence, less of the poetic power exhibited in a play than in the constructive conception of a plot, whose evolution should correspond with ideas and emotions currently popular. Thus, the "Furies" of Eschylus, whose representation

never failed to strike Greek audiences with awe, would now, however admirably performed, fail to create an approximate sensation. Even the witch scenes in "Macbeth," which were sublime in Shakspeare's day, from their embodying a current superstition, have become merely grotesque; and were a play-no matter how transcendant its conceptive merits -now founded on a similar or any past superstition, it would fail. To succeed the dramatic poet must represent the spirit of his age. The present is one of industrial, commercial, material, and spiritual civilization; it is the grandest as yet, inasmuch as man appears no longer subjected by, but master of nature, which he modifies at his will, with science for an instrument and society for an atmosphere. Dramatic poetry must always, indeed, deal with character and emotion; but-unlike the tragedy of antiquity, and much of that of modern Europe, whose interest depends on the struggle of man against fate and circumstance-and his conquest thereby-that of the future, if composed in conformity with his advance in being, will derive its interest and elevating effect from representing the conquests of spiritual power. Say that a national English drama, for instance, was composed, in which the interest would be made to depend on the principle of security afforded by the constitution, in an age when industry has produced democracy and revolutionary change; or that the interest of one was based on the conquest of apparently inevitable catastrophe, by means of the material appliances of which man is now possessed;-all would depend on the treatment of such subjects; but were any such worked out by the resources of genius, embodying the spirit of the age, we have as little doubt that their success would be assured, as that the adoption of this principle is the only means of restoring the vitality of a national drama, whose influential effect in elevating the character of a people, even in an age where the press and library are institutions, is patent from its historical antecedents. The relation of descriptive poetry to science admits of still wider applicability than dramatic. As yet, however, the rudimental idea of a literature infused with a new progressive