Young Ireland had taught a study of our history with the glory of Ireland for event, and this for lack, whehan Taylor studied, of parison with that of other tries wrecked the historical instinct. An old man with an academic appoi, who was a leader iack upon Synge, sees ih tury romance of Deirdre a re?telling of the first five act tragedy outside the classiguages, and this tragedy from his description of it was certainly written on the Elizabethan model; while an allusion to a copper boat, a marvel of magic like derellas slipper, persuades him that the a Irish had forestalled the modern dockyards in the making of metal ships. The man who doubted, let us say, our fabulous a kings running up to Adam, or found but mythology in some old tale, was as hated as if he had doubted the authority of Scripture. Above all no man was so ignorant, that he had not by rote familiar arguments and statistics to drive away amid familiar applause, all those had they but found straruth in the world or in their mind, whose knowledge has passed out of memory and bee an instinct of hand or eye. There was no literature, for literature is a child of experience always, of knowledge never; and the nation itself, instead of being a dumb struggling thought seeking a mouth to utter it or hand to show it, a teeming delight that would re?create the world, had bee, at best, a subject of knowledge.