were others who were neither blind nor deaf. Ella MacDonald had remarked earlier in the evening the lover-like and lingering reverence with which Coll MacDonald spoke Grace's name. She had guessed his secret, and now she and Muriel watched with interest his attentions to their Irish cousin ; but Coll, ignorant of their side-long looks and smiles at one another, was as busy admiring the delicate blue-veined tracery of his loved one's hand, as his brother, Sir Angus, was in studying the map that showed the arteries of Northern England and the road to Chartley. He realised how much dearer Grace had grown to him during the one short month since he had seen her last, and he planned within himself how he would pleasure her when she went to Islay. When supper was over the company drew their chairs around the fire. Scarcely were they settled when there came a loud ring of the great bell. "This will be my father," said Muriel, and she rose to meet him; but instead of Sir Angus, his son, James, entered the room and flung his arms round Muriel. With James had come Hector MacLean. Ella MacDonald's words of welcome to her lover had scarcely passed her lips, when the memory of Hector's last interview with Sir Angus overwhelmed her. "O Hector, should my father find you here!" she cried, and wrung her hands. 'We expect him momentarily." Her voice was full of fear, but her strong young lover was calm. 66 "Sweetest," he said, "all feuds are dead until to-morrow, so, for to-night, I may safely sit in MacDonald's house. Besides, James brought me here. At the first sign of danger, he must bestow me in the cellar or on the roof-for your dear sake." He laughed, but no mirth was in her face. "I am sore afraid," she whispered. Then banish fear, love, for your father sups with the King.' Hector MacLean was a stranger to Clanconnell and Grace MacDonald. When the necessary introductions had been gone through, he drew Ella out upon a balcony that overhung the street, to obtain from her compensation, as it were, for the enforced brevity of their last parting. (To be continued.) FINAL PERSEVERANCE Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee the crown of life.— APCC. ii. 10. 'Tis final perseverance that shall save: All, after years of strife, is lost or won We victors stand, or, vanquished, sink undone. In fear and trembling must we once again, In the dim evening hour-o'eryoked for strife- Once more the heat of conflict must endure; Of him who turns from sin; but, God is just, As some brave knight, then, tried on many a field, What shall I do-so easily dismayed So oft in lesser straits a craven found- Vain self-esteem of Virtue's form possessed? When flesh and spirit-nursed in mutual feud- Swift fades the favouring light-unlike the day And shall I persevere unto the end? While life's low sun is setting, 'midst the gloom, Shall I still bravely for the Crown contend, Fast holding what I have till Christ doth come? Come quickly, Jesus, Lord, when that dread hour JOHN CUNNINGHAM. REGINA MARTYRUM QUEEN of the martyrs, robed in white, Her Son for sinners crucified. Simeon's words, the hasty flight, The meeting on the mountain side, Her sword-pierced heart when day was night Queen of the martyrs, robed in white, Who died for Him Who for them died. MAGDALEN ROCK. IT DR. P. W. JOYCE IN MEMORIAM T is heartening to look back on the, great advance made in the knowledge of our country's past during the last three quarters of a century. Ireland was, indeed, fortunate in the three men-nation-builders, their latest biographer has called them-who laid deep and wide the foundations for the scientific study of Irish history. Happily there were others found to continue the work, if not with their masterly power, at least with much ability, perseverance, and thoroughness of workmanship; and the result may be seen in the steadily rising walls of the edifice of learning. After O'Curry, O'Donovan, Petrie, came workers on varied lines such as Sir John Gilbert, Cardinal Moran, Father Denis Murphy, S.J., Whitley Stokes, Margaret Stokes, to name a few of those who have passed away; and we may now add the name of Patrick Weston Joyce, whose death occurred on the 7th of last January. He was born in 1827, at Ballyorgan, a Limerick village, which looks up to the Ballyhoura Hills lying to the south of it and to the Galtees rising to the east, from a valley where the old traditions and the old ways, the Irish language and music and legends were faithfully preserved. In a pleasant and historically useful chapter of his English as we Speak it in Ireland, he has left pictures of the life there in the days of his youth: the little chapel, with its rough walls, clay floor and thatched roof, and the passionate outbursts of piety it witnessed; the hedge schools, some for elementary teaching, some for advanced instruction in classics or science, and their teachers, "rough and unpolished men, many of them, but excellent solid scholars," the widespread enthusiasm for learning, and the "poor scholars hospitably entertained. Young Joyce attended four of the higher class of schools, the best of them being one held in the market-house in Mitchelstown, Co. Cork, one of the best schools in Munster. He tells us: "I was the delight and joy of that school; for I generally carried in my pocket a little fife, from which I could roll off jigs, reels, hornpipes, hop-jigs, song tunes, etc., without limit. . . . Some dozen or more of the scholars were always in attendance in the mornings half an hour or so before the arrival of the master ... and then out came the fife and they cleared the floor for a dance. . . . And not one in the lot. was more joyous than I was; for they were mostly good dancers and did full justice to my spirited strains." Such surroundings contributed not a little to the works of his later life. The enthusiasm for learning, the knowledge of the Irish tongue, the delight in Irish music of those about him, were as good seed on soil that was fruitful; for on his part he added exceptional abilities, an intense interest in everything Irish, and especially a splendid industry—a lifelong, tireless energy. In 1845, at the age of eighteen, he began his long career in the service of the Commissioners of National Education, a career during which he occupied various positions of importance, with much credit and conscientiousness. He was one of the fifteen teachers selected in 1856 and trained to re-organise the National Schools and introduce a more practical system of school keeping. One result of the experience so gained was his Handbook of School Management, which appeared in 1863; it was adopted by the National Board as the standard for its teachers, and has gone through twenty-five editions. It was one of some half-dozen books on subjects not formally Irish in character which he brought out; we may mention of the others his Handicraft for Handy People and A Concise History of England-the latter a remarkably skilful piece of condensation, packed with facts, yet clear, readable, interesting. During these years he went through a course of University studies, graduating as B.A. of Trinity College, Dublin, in 1861, and M.A. in 1864. In 1870 he received from the same institution the honorary degree of LL.D. A notable step in his official career came in 1874, when he was appointed Professor in the Marlborough Street Training College; subsequently he became its Principal, and finally in 1893, at the age of sixty-six, he retired from the Civil Service, after close on half a century of successful and fruitful work as an educationist, a life-task of which he might well have been proud. Yet, outside of all this lies the great work by which he is chiefly known, and by which his name will be remembered. To this other sphere of work he was drawn first, it would appear, by his interest in Irish music and in the collection of Irish airs. As we have seen, he had known them and loved |