forest glade in which his vocation caused him to spend much of his time deepened his meditative habits, and gave zeal and fervour to native reagious impressions. He looked upon the land and saw that it was good; but he saw that it was peopled with idolaters and polluted by cruelties. Even amid the bitterness of his own situation, a slave and a captive in a foreign land, he felt that it would be a great and a Christian deed to open the eyes of the blinded among whom his lot was cast, and save their minds from the bondage of a false faith, and the lives of their first-born from being sacrificed in torture at the flaming altars of senseless and graven idols. Fortunately, Patrick had scarcely attained the age of manhood ere he escaped and got safely back to France, and for upwards of twenty years applied himself with diligence to learning, such as was then attainable. But neither lapse of years nor pride of cultivated intellect could banish from his mind the recollection of the state of the Irish, or his early determination to make the attempt, at least, to enlighten their minds and raise their social condition.

A. D. 432.—Accordingly, in the year 432, when about forty-five years of age, he applied to the pope for permission to preach the gospel in Ireland. Such a permission was willingly granted, and Patrick, accompanied by a few French monks whom he had interested by his descriptions of the character and condition of the Irish, landed in Ulster, after an absence of nearly or quite a quarter of a century. The foreign garb and striking appearance of Patrick and his companions filled the peasantry whom they first encountered with the notion that they were pirates, and preparations were made for driving them back to their vessels. But their quiet demeanour, and the earnest and simple assurances given by Patrick, in the language of the peasants, that he and his companions had arrived on an errand of peace and good-will, speedily converted hostility into admiration and confidence. The hospitality of the principal people was heartily bestowed upon the disinterested strangers, and Patrick and his companions presented themselves at Tara attended by a numerous and enthusiastic cortege. The mild and venerable aspect of the preachers gave full weight to the sublime and benevolent doctrines which they propounded. King and people listened at first with interest, and then with full credence; and in an incredibly short time idols and idol-worship became hateful to the people; Christian doctrines were everywhere received, and churches and monasteries arose where flames had but recently licked up the blood of shrieking and expiring human victims of ferocious error.

About the close of the eighth century the Northmen began to send as many as a hundred vessels laden with fierce warriors into the Boyne and Liffey. The monasteries, both as being the wealthiest places in the island, and as being the abode of the teachers of the faith of hated Charlemagne, whose prowess and whose sternness had made his name odious to the northern marauders, were the especial objects of their cupidity and vengeance. Built chiefly of wood, the monasteries when plundered were committed to the flames; and crowds of terrified monks and nuns escaped from the swords of the enemy only to perish of hunger, or the inclemency of the weather, amid the woods and morasses. From conducting expeditions farther and farther into the bosom of the island, the northmen at length proceeded to attempt a permanent settlement. And early in the ninth century (A. D. 1815), they succeeded in planting a colony in the district of Armagh. Between this colony and the neighbouring Irish there were frequent and desperate struggles; but about thirty years after it was planted, Turgesius, a Norwegian of great fame and power among the northern pirates, brought a powerful fleet to its aid, carried death and dismay into all the accessible parts of the country, and assumed the title of king of Ireland (A. D. 845.) Having erected strong forts on well chosen parts of the coast, he wielded his usurped authority most sternly. The

native kings were made to consider themselves as his mere tributary tanists; and upon each he levied a tribute, in the nature of a poll tax, upon their subjects, which, from the punishment of its non-payment being the amputation of the offender's nose, was called nose-money.

Turbulent towards their own titular kings of Meath, it might have been expected that the singularly haughty chiefs of Ireland would be stung to desperation by the sweeping tyranny of a foreign pirate. Many attempts at throwing off his yoke were unsuccessful; but at length the art and intrepidity of O'Malachlin, an Irish king, put an end both to the reign and life of the usurper. As though the whole power of the northmen had been centred in one man, this death was the signal of a general rising of the Irish. The lukewarm grew zealous, and the timid brave; everywhere the Irish sword gleamed for Ireland, and the massacre of the northmen was so extensive that the country might once more be said to be free from all enemies; but this freedom was soon interrupted. Inlarger numbers than ever, with vengeance animating them, the hordes of the north poured in under three famous sea-kings, Sitric, Olaff, and Ivar. Waterford, Limerick, and Dublin were seized upon, and, as is generally observable, the energy of unprincipled conquerors gave a commercial and trading consequence to those cities such as they had never before possessed. Merchants from foreign countries repaired thither, with articles of both use and luxury; and an observable impulse was given to the civilization and refinement of the country, through the medium of the invaders to whom thousands of the inhabitants owed misery and death. In truth, the situation of the native Irish during this occupation by the Danes may be compared to that of the Britons under the early rule of the Saxons, so graphically depicted by Bede.

But neither the influence of the commercial spirit nor the foreign luxury introduced by the Danes, had the effect of subduing the Irish turbulence or courage. Even when, laying aside for a brief time their petty quarrels for local supremacy, they turned their arms against the northmen, their endeavours were more creditable than successful. But a king of Munster at length arose, to show the northmen that the power of an invader is precarious, and may be shaken long after the most timid of his followers have ceased to fear, and all save the best and bravest among the oppressed have ceased to hope.

A. D. 990.—Brian Borohme, whose talents and courage even romances scarcely rate too highly, was the king of Munster, contemporary with Malachi. king of Meath. The latter, though in title the chief kingdom, was at this time scarcely the superior of Munster, the kings of which occasionally asserted their equality by a refusal to pay the tribute. Though rivals, Malachi and Brian had one common feeling of hatred to the foreign rule of Ireland; and the former, a brave and able general, was in a mere military point of view more completely the liberator of their common country than the latter. Disputes having arisen between the king of Meath and the Danes, who had now rendered Dublin very populous and wealthy, a battle took place between them in the vicinity of the hill of Tara, in which the Danes were so completely routed that they were glad to accept Malachi's terms for peace. But Brian Borohme, conscious not only of warlike ability but also of capacity for civil rule, aimed at the sole sovereignty of Ireland; Malachi, equally ambitious, resisted his pretensions. A severe and passionate contest ensued, in which Malachi was subdued, and compelled, in that hall of Tara which for centuries had witnessed the supremacy of his ancestors, to do homage to the rival whom he had bravely though lucklessly resisted.

Brian Borohme's first acts showed that, however blameable the course by which he had obtained the chief regal place, his genius was admirably adapted to it. Without losing time in idle show and ceremony, he at once

set out on a tour of pacification, receiving the submission of the chiefs and demanding hostages for the loyalty of those who had given cause for suspicion. Nor did he confine his cares to protecting himself; he also made laws preventing the people from being scourged by the cosherings of their rulers. His well known talents, and the sternness with which he imprisoned those chiefs who ventured to infringe his laws, had a salutary effect; and in his reign Ireland was a better ordered and more happy and peaceful country than it had ever before been. The strongholds and religious houses, which had suffered so much at first by the violence of the northmen, were repaired, and new ones founded. The Danes themselves, dreading to provoke him, busied themselves solely with trade, and did not for many years commit any violence.

A. D. 1011.—The king of Dublin suddenly and without provocation led his northmen into the kingdom of Meath, plundering without limit, and murdering without mercy. As if to show that Irishmen were never to see the misfortunes of their country without doing their part towards inflict ing them, the king of Leinster joined his forces to those of the northmen. Malachi and Brian Borohme put themselves at the head of the other kings to oppose the host of foes that had thus suddenly sprung up. Rightly believing the native more guilty than foreign ones, Borohme dispatched a large force under his son Donough. to overrun the kingdom of Leinster. This service the old warrior judged his son could effect in three days, to which period he limited his absence. But treason was in the camp of the brave Borohme, whose gallant son was no sooner beyond recall, than some deserter made the northmen aware how much the Irish were weakened by this detachment, and they at once forced a general engagement. Borohme formed his troops in battle array, and though four-score years had blanched his hair and abated his strength, he rode along the ranks and shouted his exhortations in the eloquence of which, in former times, he had so often witnessed the effect upon troops who had followed him to victory. Bearing a crucifix in his left hand, as he brandished his familiar sword in his right, he called upon them to follow where he should lead, and strike for the religion of the saints, with the firm hearts and vigourous arms of men who knew how to die as Christians, but never to submit to heathens in heart, name, or alliance. Shortly after day-break, on the 23d of April, the venerable king and warrior thus addressed his army, who responded to the address by commencing the fight, which lasted the whole day. As the shadows of night fell deeper, he was obliged to seek rest in his tent. At length the shouts of the Irish proclaimed that the foe was broken beyond hope, and the king's tent in the general joy, was left unguarded save by a stripling page. He was recognised by a flying party of the enemy a few minutes after, and in an instant his enemies were upon him; the loud shriek and feeble blow of the young page delayed the sacrifice not a moment; Brian Borohme, the terrible in battle, the wise in council, was slain, with many and ghastly wounds, even as he knelt in thanksgiving for the victory he had done so much towards obtaining for his country.

The defeat of the northmen was complete at Clontarf. The invaders fled to their ships and sought safety in flight; and the northmen who were nataralized in Ireland, despairing of any farther aid from beyond sea, had no recourse but to live in peace with their neighbours, with whom the intermarriages of a few generations so incorporated them, that all distinction was lost between the two people. Malachi, who had bravely distinguished himself on this occasion, was now by common consent called again to the chief sovereignty, which he enjoyed in peace and honour until his death.

A. D 1022.—Full of years and honours, Malachi expired in 1022: and the death of that monarch was the signal for the renewal of those shameful

civil wars, from which the strong mind of Brian Borohme had so long kept the country free. The renown of Malachi had caused all the kings to hail him as the successor of Brian Borohme, but the relatives of those two princes could not so easily agree as to the successor of the former. Many competitors appeared and sanguinary struggles ensued; but at length the field was cleared of all but two. These were Donough, king of Munster, heir of Brian Borohme, and Turlough, great nephew of the lat ter and nephew of the former; both, it will be perceived, claiming in hereditary succession to him who had been to all intents an usurping king, however good and able. The struggle between these two princes was long; but Donough was vanquished, and almost immediately resigned his kingdom of Munster, and set out on a pilgrimage to Rome Arrived at "the eternal city," he entered into a monastery, and there obscurely finished his life.

Turlough, on mounting the throne, proved that he inherited with it much of the ability and courage of his great uncle, together with a double portion of his resolved self-will. Much as he owed to the inferior kings and chiefs, he imposed upon them unusually heavy tributes; a tyranny the full weight of which was felt by the unfortunate kerne, or peasantry, from whom it was of course wrung by their tyrants. From the natives, Turlough turned his strong hand upon the northern settlers and traders. Even under the firm rule of Brian Borohme, these people were allowed to follow their peaceable pursuits, and their towns had been governed by their own laws, administered by governors of their own race. One of these, Godfred, king of Dublin, was banished almost immediately after the accession of Turlough, who filled the vacancy with Murkentach, his own son. A similar tyrannic course was followed to all the Danish towns. At this period Ireland seems to have obtained considerable improvement as to wealth, if not refinement. Mention is frequently made of gold in payment of tribute, where formerly it was paid in kine; and to its former exports of wheat, wool, hides, and cattle, we now find timber added.

A. D. 1086.—After an active and generally prosperous reign, Turlough died. His kingdom was partitioned among his three sons; the hereditary principle being set aside, but on this occasion with at least the colour of justice, inasmuch as the principle of equal division—though including the most distant male relatives—was that of the Brehon laws in the palmy days of the Magi. One of the sons dying, a contest arose between the two survivors, Murkentach—already mentioned as succeeding Godfred the northman in the government of Dublin—and Dermot. The latter was defeated and driven into exile, and Murkentach now claimed and was about to assume the whole kingdom. But a rival was set up against him in the person of a chieftain of the old blood-royal, named Donald MacLoughlin, who was extremely popular among the princes both on account of his personal qualities and his descent; and again the unhappy country was visited by a civil war. For eight years the old scenes of rapine and misery bade fair to undo all that invaders had done towards improving it; and after all this strife and misery, the rivals agreed to divide the regal spoil between them. The southern moiety of the kingdom was given to Murkentach, and bore the title of Leathmogh, or Mogh's share; and the northern moiety to MacLoughlin, and bore the title of Leath Cunnin, or Conn's share.

Even this seemingly equitable arrangement did not restore a lasting peace. Perpetual encroachments were made by one or the other, and a series of sanguinary and mischievous battles terminated in the utter defeat of Murkentach, who retired from the contest in 1103, and sought refuge in a monastery, where he terminated his days.

During the obstinate struggle between the Irish kings, the coastward

parts of the country were repeatedly annoyed by the Norwegian, Magnus. His prowess and audacity had possessed him of the Hebrides and the Isle of Man, and under the title of the Lord of the Isles he struck terror and dismay far and near. Emboldened by the senseless dissensions of the Irish, he sailed up the Liffey, ravaging and destroying, and at length possessed himself of Dublin, where, having fallen into an ambush, he lost his life.

CHAPTER III.

The various wars in Ireland did not prevent the island from being still divided into the five chief kingdoms of which mention has already been made. The titular chief royalty passed now to Roderic O'Connor, King of Connaught. But all his energies were required to enable him to govern Connaught. and he was incapable of either composing the differences of the other kings, or of uniting them all under his own authority. In a word, Ireland was in the 13th century as divided as ever it had been; and only so far improved in wealth as to tempt aggression by exciting cupidity. Heathen Rome and Christian Rome alike had allowed the semi-barbarous people of the "sacred island" to fight and destroy at their own good pleasure. But the time at length came when Christian Rome, already enthroned as the arbitress of the temporal and spiritual princes of the earth, looked with a longing eye upon the fertile island on which prosperity had begun to dawn. Ireland's near and ambitious neighbour, Henry II. of England, it was who immediately drew the attention of the pontiff to her value and capabilities. Attracted by the fertility of Ireland and its contiguity to his own kingdom, he applied to the papal court for its sanction to his subduing Ireland.

A. D. 1116.—Pope Adrian III., who then filled the papal chair, was doubly glad to receive this request. An Englishman by birth, he was naturally anxious for the aggrandizement of his native country; and, as pope, he could not but be rejoiced at having from the king of England this emphatic acknowledgement of the temporal as well as spiritual supremacy of Rome. The pope having shown that Ireland ought to be conquered, and that Henry is appointed conqueror, "exhorts him to invade Ireland, in order to extirpate the vice and wickedness of the natives, and oblige them to pay yearly, from every house, a penny to the see of Rome; gives him entire right and authority over the island, commands all the inhabitants to obey him as their sovereign, and invests him with the fullest power, 'all for the glory of God and the salvation of the souls of men.'"

The state of Ireland soon after this bull was issued, was precisely such as its foreign foeman might have desired it to be; one of the intestine brawls breaking out just then with even more than usual virulence and fury. Dermot Macmorrogh, the king of Leinster, who was remarkable for his gross immorality, had greatly provoked the chief men of his kingdom. Unaware or contemptuous of the general feeling that existed against him, he wantonly added to it by abducting the wife of Ororic, prince of Breffney, during her husband's absence. Prince Ororic, on his return to the bog island in which he had, as he imagined, secured the safety of his wife, was roused to the utmost rage by the information that Macmorrogh had made a descent upon it and forcibly carried her away. Morality at that time was so low, that nearly any man but the king of Leinster might have abducted his neighbour's wife, without runaing serious risk of incurring enmity or censure beyond that of the injured husband and his immediate friends and followers. But Macmorrogh's