Mr. St. John Crozier, (who meanwhile had entered the chapel,) stood with his eyes riveted upon the Roman numeral and golden number. Had he been educated at secular and scientific Cambridge, he would have seen nothing in the phenomenon but a familiar optical effect; but, having been nurtured at spiritual and believing Oxford, he gazed upon the glowing letters with holy rapture, and considered them fully as miraculous an inscription as the writing on the wall of Belshazzar's banquet-room."

The visit of the ladies to the monastery is as fatal as in "Love's Labour Lost." Discussions on celibacy are interrupted by elopements conducted with railroad rapidity, and weddings, that would otherwise never have been thought of, are the unforeseen but very natural consequences of discussions on celibacy. It would seem as if the star of Ward was in the ascendant; and the contagion of matrimony spreads even to Tigernach, of the unchristened hand. That hand our readers in vision have ere now seen clasping Emily's.

Before his marriage, however, Tigernach has to return to Ireland, and there is some difficulty in his explaining to his associates in the Hall of Clamour his changed feelings to England, for Emily has succeeded in winning him to extend to England the kindly feeling with which he before regarded Ireland alone. He, of course, insists that he does so without the abandonment of one particle of Celtic principle; but this little satisfies the audience in the Hall of Clamour, whom he finds engaged in discussing the claims of Ireland to the authorship of the poems of Homer.

The poems of Homer-said one of the orators-are feeble translations from the original Celtic, by some contemptible Hoole of Ephesus, or Trapp of Smyrna. The translation has come down with the name of the Celtic OMARA. poet, Oungos —OMEARA, or

The probability of this discovery is increased by the fact, that Ulysses and Duffey are undoubtedly the sameOdusseus and O'Duffy-the digamma explaining the fact of a slight difference in one or two of the letters. The fraud of depriving us of the poems of Homer was perpetrated in the same spirit as one in our own days, when one Campbell, a Lowland Scot, probably of Norman blood, robbed the Celtic Irish and, more particularly, one George Nugent Reynolds,

of the fame of the poem of the Exile of Erin-as is attested by the oaths of several credible witnesses, who, it is proved by other credible persons, were sure to remember one song from another at any distance of time. The question of the Irish claim to Homer was, however, that agitated when Tierna entered the Hall of Clamour. "Where is my father?" His was the hero's first question. father was not present, he being at the time engaged in pursuit of poor Falcon, who had spoken disrespectfully of the Irish in the London journals. The elder M Morris, with his fiery face and olive-branch, was a dangerous head-pacificator, and Tigernach left the hall in annoyance at the probable flogging his father-in-law was likely to get at his father's hands.

He returned next day to the hall of Clamour. The hall of Clamour is not unlike that in which Milton represents a lofty order of spirits assembled, and poor Tigernach could not but fear when he considered what his intended speech was to be. He was to speak of reconciling feuds, quenching torches, &c. Tigernach knew that, in this hall, as in that described by the great poet, while the multitudinous rabble were gathered together and crowded into small compass, the more lordly still preserved their place of pre-eminence, and natural dimensions.

"As bees,

In springtime when the sun with Taurus rides,
Pour forth their populous youth about the hive
In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers
Fly to and fro; or on the smoothed plank,
The suburb of their straw-built citadel,
New rubbed with balm, expatiate and confer
Their state affairs: so thick the acry crowd
Swarmed and were straitened, till, the signal given,
Behold a wonder!-they who but now seemed
In bigness to surpass Earth's giant sons,
Now less than smallest dwarfs in narrow room
Throng numberless-

-To smallest forms
Reduced their shapes immense, and were at large,
Though without number still, amidst the hall
Of that infernal court. But far within,
And in their own dimensions, like themselves,
The great seraphic lords and cherubim
In close recess and secret conclave sat."

What an hour and what a scene for Tigernach. He that a short time ago had spoken of holding an aggregate meeting of Young Ireland in an omnibus, and who certainly was not thinking little of them when he thought it possible. How get them now to listen to his projects of conciliation, and his praises of the blue eyes and fair hair of the rosy-cheeked daughters of England? And last, worst thought-how

conciliate offended-implacable-iniured-insulted Old Ireland? How dare he even to look up to the throne of royal state on which he sat-or, in Tigernach's hag-ridden imagination, seemed sitting in sullen dignitygloomy as the rain-cloud of morning? Tigernach's first thought was to retire without uttering one word of his conciliatory message. He felt like an angel of the Irvingites commissioned to deliver a message to the chancellor sitting in the House of Lords; but like one to whom the purport of the unintelligible words of the sacred language, of which he was to be the organ, was not communicated. He thought of retiring, as poor Mr. Bagster did from before the dignity of Lord Brougham. However, he spoke, and words, even eloquent words, were not wanting.

"A disapproving murmur ran through the assembly; the bards croaked, and struck harsh notes on their clarshechs, the Brehons muttered discontent, the statesboys frowned, and the officers of the newly-organized corps of Heavy Gallowglasses and Light Wood-kernes, handled their pikes and battleaxes alarmingly, rapping out oaths by all the elements of mischief, and all the principles of evil.

Tierna, however, persisted in delivering the moderate speech he had prepared for the occasion in the solitude of the Welch mountains. He said that he entirely despaired of carrying their great objects by the hurrah of agitation -(indignant cries of no,' followed by a terrific hurrah,' from Hurly O'Burly, in which the meeting vociferously joined.) Such, however, was his opinion-(hooting) -they could only depend on the ceaseless cultivation of their strength; they must conciliate the Protestants; and, above all, they must improve themselves(no, no, from all parts of the hall.) He deliberately thought so-(groans.) They must establish district readingrooms (laughter)-there the sons of repealers must learn the elements of thought, and make themselves terrible to England by the arms of intellect, and in the panoply of knowledge-(indignant ridicule.) Ere they could take Ireland from the English, they must know more than they do, they must become their superiors in wisdom and virtue.

"The meeting could endure no more. A boisterous laugh of scorn, followed by a universal hiss, and that succeeded by a long, loud burst of execration, thrice expressed the feeling of the auditory. The croak of the bards became like the chorus of the frogs in the

comedy; the young Brehons growled like the cubs of bears; and again the Light Wood-kernes and the Heavy Gallow-glasses vented their Celtic wrath in

all the ancient war-whoops.

66

Tigernach retired soon after from the hall, followed with the cry of False Celt!' Base Renegade!' and a hundred 'miscreants,' and as many 'caitiffs,' from the eloquent tongue of Mr. Fling Mire and the other orators of the school of Xantippe."

The incidents are few in this novel, and we think the story is scarcely sufficient for the perfect exhibition of the dramatis persona. Delineation of character is our author's great and distinguishing merit. The Falcons stand out in perfect individuality. They seem almost characters taken from real life; and, like characters in real life, there is a great deal to be liked in each of them, otherwise their success in predatory life could scarcely be regarded as possible. Mrs. Falcon is lively and well-looking, her manners are natural and pleasing; and she is just the woman whose habits are likely to render, her intolerable to women, but exceedingly agreeable to men, who cannot but be amused at her hundred petty thefts and plans of living, without house or home. Falcon's love of children, and his genius for making paper ships, and dressing dolls, render probable some of the amusing peculiarities which are attributed to the secretary of the Irish Branch Society for The converting the Polish Jews. Irish hero, Tigernach, is one whom, in all his wildness, we think of with respect, and we regret that the author has done himself injustice, by not extending the sketch of the elder Mac Morris. While we have a salutary horror of the old novel, in three volumes, we are yet sorry that this is confined within the scanty limits of one.

We have said that the author's forte is the delineation of character. In this he uses the double means of narrative and of dialogue. In both, the style is exceedingly lively and unaffected. In the dialogues especially it often sparkles with wit. Is there a chance that in these days, when it requires but a powerful spirit to recall the stage to what it once was, we may find in the author of these sparkling scenes, one destined to give us-what has not been in English literature since the triumphs of Goldsmith and of Sheridan-a true comedy?

Ir is now somewhat about half a century since a meditative man, of a mechanical genius, observing the manner in which the steam of a boiling tea-kettle moved the cover, and the force with which it issued from the spout, was led to entertain the notion that, by creating it in larger volume, this new power might, by skilful direction, be turned to good account as a means of abridging human labour. To this one idea what mighty changes owe their rise! How vastly has the power of machinery been augmented, even to the producing a sense of fearfulness and wonder in the observer, who beholds complex formations of wood and iron instinct, as it were, with a living soul! and how has the intercourse of society been facilitated, the face of the country changed, the facilities of inter-national communication augmented, the whole character of warfare, whether for defence or for aggression, altered, by that one element of steam power, as applied, in its various modifications, by human ingenuity, to purposes whether of national superiority, or of social conve

nience!

How would our ancestors stare at beholding the teeming productions of our power-looms, and the manner in which our vessels at sea are enabled to baffle wind and tide, and attain to something like the steadiness of continental travelling; whilst our locomotives by land would seem almost to outstrip the fleetness of the wind! But they would not, we may be well assured, rest satisfied with a mere expression of wonder. They would see also the altered relations which were thus produced between the different nations of the world; and that if, in some respects, we were largely benefitted, in others we were more posed to danger. And if the love of old England had not waxed marvellously cold, they would, undoubtedly, desire to see us in possession of means

ex

of defence which would give us something like the security of our old wooden walls against the perils of invasion.

Nor are there wanting, amongst ourselves, those by whom this important subject has been deeply pondered. We have before us a tract by Lord Ranelagh, which will well repay the attention of the authorities, to whom are entrusted our means of defence. His lordship justly observes that the unexampled successes of the British forces have given rise to such a prestige of victory, "that defeat` has almost ceased to be reckoned amongst the chances of war, and invasion is regarded as an impossibility." This is a notion which his lordship deservedly derides. Not that he undervalues" the valour of our troops, the intrepidity and skill of our seamen, the loyal and patriotic devotion of both;" but because "the changes of the last five-and-twenty years are such that, without new combinations of these powers, and important mechanical additions to our defences, the bravery and zeal of our matchless navy and army have become altogether inadequate to the protection of the country."

And whilst Lord Ranelagh would warn his countrymen against the new dangers which they will have to encounter in any future hostilities, the Prince de Joinville thus seeks to impress upon the people of France the vast importance to them of the application of steam power to the purposes of naval warfare :

"A fact of immense importance, which has for some years been realized, has given us the means to raise up our decayed naval power, to cause it to reappear in another form, admirably adapted to our resources and national genius. This fact is no other than the establishment and progress of navigation by steam. With a steam navy," continues the prince, "an

aggressive warfare of the most audacious nature may be carried on at sea. We are then certain of our movements; at liberty in our actions; the weather, the wind, the tides will no longer interfere with us, and we can calculate clearly and with precision." And

again: "In the event of war, the most unexpected expeditions are possible. Who can doubt that, with a well-organized steam navy, we should possess the means of inflicting losses and unknown sufferings on an enemy's coast, which has never hitherto felt all the miseries that war can inflict? With her sufferings would arise the evil, till then unknown to her, of confidence destroyed. The riches accumulated on her coasts, and in her harbours, would cease to be in security. The struggle, then, would no longer be unequal. Our harbours might shelter a considerable force, which, putting to sea in the obscurity of night, might attempt most numerous and well-organized crusades. Nothing could hinder the force from re-uniting at a given point on the British coast, before daylight, and then it might act with impunity."

Nor are we permitted to suppose that the necessity for accumulating large bodies of men upon some point of the coast previously to embarkation, would interpose any insuperable obstacle to the meditated enterprise. The same agency which has vanquished the opposition of wind and tide at sea, is about to overcome the difficulties of tedious and exhausting marches by land :

"In three or four years from the prosent time, railways will, in all probability, radiate from Paris, as a centre, to every port on the French coast; an army of 100,000 men, or of any large number, may then be conveyed, in whatever proportions the exigencies or the strategy of the war may require, to the various harbours from which they are to sail, for that point of the English coast on which, according to the Prince de Joinville, they are to unite for the purpose of invasion."

The vastly-increased power of France, for aggressive purposes, in the event of hostilities, when the railways, either contemplated or in progress, shall have been completed, is thus described ::

"In such a state of things-certain in event, and probably not distant in

time, (unless our defences are not only strengthened, but altogether changed,) a declaration of war, on the part of France, would be but another word for the conquest of England. The operation would be as short as it would be easy and decisive. The railways, previously, no doubt, furnished with sufficient power and capacity, could supply the various ports (of which the distance of the remotest from Paris would be reduced to a few hours) with the requisite number of troops. The steam ships-not, be it remembered, necessarily vessels of war, but the ordinary packet-boats-would receive them on board, and the English ambassador, who left Paris on receipt of his passports, would not, on his safe arrival in London, anticipate by one week the equally safe arrival on the English coast of the French army, if necessary, of a hundred thousand men.

"I assume the war to be declared by France, suddenly, and, like all her sudden movements, not without due forethought and precaution. The transmission of the troops by railway to the various ports is an operation so simple as to require no illustration. The first objection which I shall have to meet will probably be to the facility of their conveyance across the channel, and it may be urged that so large a body of troops in war steamers would not easily escape the vigilance of our navy.

"Now, as I have already hinted, it is not necessary, nor probable, that war steamers would be employed in this service. The vessels which would best convey the troops would be passageboats, not dissimilar to those which are at the present time daily running, and frequently carrying from 1,200 to 2,200 passengers each between England and Ireland. These vessels might move, not in one squadron, but in various numbers, as they would steer from various points: each flotilla being accompanied by war steamers for the purpose of protection, or distracting the attention of an adverse force.

"But what blockade would, under every circumstance, guard all the ports of France? What Channel fleet, however well appointed, could detect, or, detecting, intercept, by any serious obstruction, a number of vessels separated into groups, and holding their short course of from four to twelve hours' duration against wind and tide? The advantage of a two hours' start, under the cloud of night, or a channel fog, and the steam-propelled enemy is out of sight. In short, to prevent such vessels as I have described from leaving the French coast, nothing less would suffice than a complete blockade of every port, and that by war steamers in constant readiness for pursuit or engagement, which is impossible.'

In all this we do not think the noble lord has used the least exagge ration, although he does not seem to us aware of the precautions already actually taken against the dangers which he apprehends. We will even add, that his case is understated. Before the application of steam to naval purposes, a strong blockading force might be relied on as a protection against invasion. Granting that, by stress of weather, the British fleet was blown off its station, and the enemy were enabled to get out, the course of the wind naturally indicates the direction which sailing vessels must take, in order to insure their capture, or be prepared against their designs. No such security can now be relied on. The liberated fleet, by means of steam, may take a course widely different from any that could be suspected, and thus it might happen that they would be able to make a descent upon some unprotected part of our coast, and inflict upon us irreparable injury, before any effective ineans of counteraction could be adopted.

"An invading force, say of 100,000 men, is thus landed on the coasts of Essex, Kent, and Sussex: what are our preparations on land for their reception? Our coast batteries, such as they are, are without artillerymen, unarmed, and useless. We have no trained militia, and our yeomanry are few, and necessarily slow in collection. Our population, even if they possessed arms, are ignorant of their use; and our regular troops, which are scattered at great distances over England and Scotland, would not, were their disposable numbers collected, muster more than 10,000

bayonets. To these we may add the very important and useful body of soldiers which have been enrolled from the pensioners, amounting to 10,000 men. But, while this defensive strength, amounting on the whole to about 20,000 men, is being summoned from all parts of the country, our arsenals, miserably deficient in fortifications, in soldiers, and in artillerymen, invite the enemy's attack; and, before we can give any thing like shape to our preparations, he has marched upon and destroyed Chatham, Sheerness, and Woolwich,-taken military possession of the Thames,-and threatened, or laid, an embargo on London.

"I am well aware that on ears accustomed to hear only of the glories of British arms this sounds strangely improbable, yet it is here understated rather than exaggerated. I have said nothing of the military resources of France, of the discipline and acknowledged bravery of her troops,-of the tried skill and valour of her officers. I might have doubled the supposed numbers of the aggressive army, and diminished by half the time allowed for their presence on the English shores, without approaching the limits of impracticability."

It is, undoubtedly, important that the mind of the nation should be seriously directed to the bare and remote possibility of such a state of things. The genius of Wellington, which shaped our gallant army into an instrument by which he was enabled to break in pieces the colossal power of the great War Sovereign of France; the achievements of our naval warriors which have made the ocean almost a British domain, have but produced their natural effects when they inspire a sense of security which might at any moment be found delusive. Lord Ranelagh has, therefore, done good service in awakening public attention to contingencies, respecting which to be forewarned is to be forearmed, and from which, if we suffered them to take us by surprise, nothing short of a direct interference of Providence could

save us.

England should no longer consider herself simply as an insular power, protected by the ocean, and safe from attack as long as her naval superiority continues. She can no longer rely upon wind and tide for baffling the approach of an enemy. The sea has now become a great highway, to be