correct, and his style less diffuse than those of the favored English author. Yet, what a different fate has attended these men. The works of the one, are read and admired wherever the language in which they are written extends, the name and writings of the other are wholly unknown, except to the solitary Irish scholar, who may happen to pore over the mouldering manuscripts in which these disjecta membra are preserved. But such has been the fate of Ireland. Its native genius, learning, and talents, have been doomed to languish in obscurity. Truly have they "wasted their sweetness on the desert air."—For with us, since England established its dominion here, it could never be said:—
Ingeniis patuit campus: certusque merenti
Stat favor: ornatur propriis industria donis.
3"Than Cæsar of Hosts"—
That James II. (even though somewhat addicted to swearing,) was a more devoted catholic than any of the Cæsars, has never been doubted, and this I take to be the poet's meaning in this passage; but, that he was greater, as a statesman or general, even with all his naval character, is rather questionable. While William, who deserved the crown he bravely won, was crossing the ensanguined Boyne, amidst the thickest fire of his foes, James, from the church-yard on the hill of Donore, stood a tame spectator of the battle, which decided the fate of his kingdoms. Thence he fled panic-struck towards Dublin, where he was sarcastically complimented by the Lady Tyrconnell, on his superior speed from the field of battle. So dastardly was his conduct on this momentous occasion, that old Sir Teige O'Regan cried out to King William's officers, "Let us change commanders, and we will fight the battle over again." But the fatal blow was struck, and James, of whom some one tauntingly said, that he lost three kingdoms for a mass, fled to France to count over his "Paidereen" for the remainder of his days, after entailing upon Ireland a century of
