spread with delicious fare for 1,500 guests who daily partook of the royal banquet. "There were three sideboards covered with golden and silver goblets, and the king was waited upon at table by a hundred and fifty of the most distinguished champions in the kingdom. "The household troops, who were in constant duty, consisted of the royal 1,050 of the flower of the Irish army." Warner. "Tara was once a stately palace as its ruins showeth today. It stood on a lofty hill in Meath which commands a most goodly prospect. The valleys are fertile and beautiful. In this palace the counties had their meetings of provincial kings, senators and poets." Holinshed's Chronicle. "Primarily and essentially, the Isthmian and Olympian gatherings were not held for purposes of sport, but for commerce and adjustment of inter-tribal relations. But the more sensational and exhilarating character of any event tends to absorb in popular estimation all its other and more intimate characteristics. Thus the great Olympian and Isthmian gatherings are remembered as games, and not as fairs. "In Ireland, in addition to the local and provincial fairs which took place frequently, there was held every third year, on the plains of Meath, one great fair, which surpassed all the rest in public importance. To the great triennial fair of Tara, held midway between north and south, the chiefs gathered from the most remote parts of the country. To violate this fair was the highest public offence known to our ancesters. The use of a weapon was punished with instant death, for which no Eric was or could be accepted. It was the jubilee season of the Irish; ancient prestige and reverence protected those who journeyed to and from that fair, and wars were suspended during its celebration. "From a small beginning the great Feis of Tara advanced in public importance, until it became for Ireland what the Olympian festival was to Greece." Standish O'Grady, Hist. Ire., Vol. I., Chap. XII. "Will it," says the liberal English writer, Dr. Warner, "be any longer doubted after this, whether the ancient Irish had any philosophy, literature, or arts in their pagan state? Will any critic in this country (England) any longer confidently assert, that the Irish had not the use of letters till after the arrival of St. Patrick, and the conversion of the island to Christianity? Ought we, Englishmen, not rather to take shame ourselves, that we have hitherto always treated that ancient, gallant people, with such illiberal contempt, who had the start of the Britons, for many ages, in arts and sciences, in learning and in laws." "Anterior to the propagation of the Gospel in Ireland, our great monarch, Cormac McArt, was transcendantly preeminent above all others, in the third century, for his profound knowledge in the antiquity and jurisprudence of his country; the schools he endowed, the books he composed, and the laws he established, bear unquestionable testimony of his munificence, wisdom and learning." Transactions of the Dublin Gaelic Society, SCENE III. Eire is tempted by the demon, Crom Cruah. Death of the Tribemonster. A voice from heaven. Eire's lament. Consoled by Fohla's account of the actions of her sons in the service of the Gaulish king. Banba brings back tidings of the great victory of Fontenoy and the response from the tombs of Dune. Descent of the three sisters from the rock of Arranmore to the sea, and their return to Slieve Blahma. Saint George addresses the umpire saints, who, having pronounced judgment, depart into heaven. Thrice thirty winters, on the heedless Rock, The Queen's high seat, have blown. The scorching suns, Their seasons rul'd, and wan'd; sea-faring moons Of waning virtue, when the Dragon's wings His miscreant plot to mend. By his device, In either firmament; on the scant soil, The desert floret sleeps, and 'neath their wings, The rock fowl hide their bills. Around the Queen Had stor'd; and 'mid the fen, a palsi'd voice "O Thou, benighted offspring of the gods, Eire! high seated in the world alone. Queen of the lawless winds and reckless waves; "Eire! now lay thy pale cheek on the rock, |