"But the climax of his grief was, that Mahon' had not fallen behind the shelter of his shield, rather than trust the treacherous word of Donovan.'

A "Bard of Thomond" in our own day-one not unworthy of his proud pseudonym- Mr. M. Hogan of Limerick, has supplied the following very beautiful version of "Brian's Lament for King Mahon : "-

Lament, O Dalcassians! the Fagle of Cashel is dead!
The grandeur, the glory, the joy of her palace is fled;
Your strength in the battle --your bulwark of valor is low,
But the fire of your vengeance will fall on the murderous foe!

His country was mighty-his people were blest in his reign,
But the ray of his glory shall never shine on them again;
Like beauty of summer his presence gave joy to our souls,
When bards sung his deeds at the banquet of bright golden bowls.

Ye maids of Temora, whose rich garments sweep the green plain !
Ye chiefs of the sunburst, the terror and scourge of the Dane!
Ye gray-haired Ard-Filcas! whose songs fire the blood of the brave!
Oh! weep, for your Sun-star is quenched in the night of the grave.

He clad you with honors-he filled your high hearts with delight,
In the midst of your councils he beamed in his wisdom and might;
Gold, silver, and jewels were only as dust in his hand,

But his sword like a lightning-flash blasted the foes of his land.

Oh! Mahon, my brother! we've conquer'd and marched side by side,
And thou wert to the love of my soul as a beautiful bride;
In the battle, the banquet, the council, the chase and the throne,
Our beings were blended-our spirits were filled with one tone.

Oh! Mahon, my brother! thou'st died like the hind of the wood,
The hands of assassins were red with thy pure noble blood;
And I was not near, my beloved, when thou wast overpower'd,
To steep in their hearts' blood the steel of my blue-beaming sword.

I stood by the dark misty river at eve dim and gray,
And I heard the death-cry of the spirit of gloomy Craghlea;
She repeated thy name in her caoine of desolate woe,

Then I knew that the Beauty and Joy of Clan Tail was laid low.

All day an all night one dark vigil of sorrow I keep,
My pirit is bleeding with wounds that are many and deep,
My banquet is anguish, tears, groaning, and wringing of hands,
In madness lamenting my prince of the goid-hilted brands.

O God! give me patience to bear the affliction I feel,
But for every hot tear a red blood-drop shall blush on my steel;
For every deep pang which my grief-stricken spirit has known,
A thousand death-wounds in the day of revenge shall atone.

And he smote the murderers of his brother with a swift and terrible vengeance. Mustering his Dalcassian legions, which so often with Mahon he had led to victory, he set forth upon the task of retribution. His first effort, the old records tell us, was directed against the Danes of Limerick, who were Donovan's allies, and he slew Ivor, their king, and his two sons. Foreseeing their fate, they had fled before him, and had taken refuge in "Scattery's Holy Isle." But Brian slew them even "between the horns of the altar." Next came the turn of Donovan, who had meantime hastily gathered to his aid the Danes of South Munster. But" Brian," say the Annals of Innisfallen," gave them battle, and Auliffe and his Danes, and Donovan and his allies, were all cut off." Of all guilty in the murder of the brother whom he so loved, there now remained but one-the principal, Molloy the son of Bran. After the fashion in those times, Brian sent Molloy a formal summons or citation to meet him in battle until the terrible issue between them should be settled. To this Molloy responded by confederating all the Irish and Danes of South Munster whom he could rally, for yet another encounter with the avenging Dalcassian. But the curse of the Comharba of St. Barre was upon the murderers of Mahon, and the might of a passionate vengeance was in Brian's arm. Again he was victorious. The confederated Danes and Irish were overthown with great slaughter; Brian's son, Morrogh, then a mere lad, "killing the murderer of his uncle Mahon with his own hand." "Molloy was buried on the north side of the mountain where Mahon had been murdered and interred: on Mahon the sun shone full and fair; but on the grave of his assassin the black shadow of the northern sky rested always. Such was the tradition which all Munster piously believed. After this victory Brian was universally acknowledged king of Munster, and until Ard-Ri Malachy won the battle of Tara, was justly considered the first Irish captain of his age.'

This was the opening chapter of Brian's career.

Thenceforth his military reputation and his political influence are found extending far beyond the confines of Munster.

The supreme crown of Ireland at this time was worn by a brave and enlightened sovereign, Malachy the Second, or Malachy Mor. He exhibited rare qualities of statesmanship, patriotism, and valor, in his vigorous efforts against the Danes. On the occasion of one of his most signal victories over them, he himself engaged in combat two Danish princes, overcame and slew both of them, taking from off the neck of one a massive collar of gold, and from the grasp of the other a jewel-hilted sword, which he himself thenceforward wore as trophies. To this monarch, and to the incident here mentioned, Moore alludes in his well-known lines:

Let Erin remember the days of old,
Ere her faithless sons betrayed her,
When Malachy wore the collar of gold

That he won from the proud invader.

Whether it was that Ard-Ri Malachy began to fear the increasing and almost over-shadowing power and influence of his southern tributary, or that Brian had in his pride of strength refused to own his tributary position, it seems impossible to tell; but unfortunately for Ireland the brave and wise Ard-Ri Malachy, and the not less brave and wise tributary Brian, became embroiled in a bitter war, the remote but indubitable consequences of which most powerfully and calamitously affected the future destinies of Ireland. For nearly twenty years the struggle between them continued. Any adversary less able than Malachy would have been quickly compelled to succumb to ability such as Brian's; and it may on the other hand be said that it was only a man of Brian's marvellous powers whom Malachy could not effectively crush in as many months. Two such men united could accomplish anything with Ireland; and when they eventually did unite, they absolutely swept the Danes into their walled and fortified cities, from whence they had begun once more to overrun the country during the distractions of the struggle be

tween Malachy and Brian. During the short peace or truce bctween himself and the Ard-Ri, Brian-who was a sagacious diplomatist as well as a great general-seems to have attached to his interest nearly all the tributary kings, and subsequently even the Danish princes; so that it was easy to see that already his eye began to glance at the supreme crown. Malachy saw it all, and when the decisive moment at last arrived, and Brian, playing Cæsar, "crossed the Rubicon," the now only titular Ard-Ri made a gallant but brief defence against the ambitious usurper-for such Brian was on the occasion. After this short effort Malachy yielded with dignity and calmness to the inevitable, and gave up the monarchy of Erinn to Brien. The abdicated sovereign thenceforward served under his victorious rival as a subordinate, with a readiness and fidelity which showed him to be Brian's superior at least in unselfish patriotism and in readiness to sacrifice personal pride and personal rights to the public interests of his country.

Brian, now no longer king of Munster, but Ard-Ri of Erinn, found his ambition fully crowned. The power and authority to which he had thus attained, he wielded with a wisdom, a sagacity, a firmness, and a success that made his reign as Ard-Ri, while it lasted, one of almost unsurpassed glory, prosperity, and happiness for Ireland. Yet the student of Irish history finds no fact more indelibly marked on his mind. by the thoughtful study of the great page before him, than this, namely, that, glorious as was Brian's reign-brave, generous, noble, pious, learned, accomplished, politic, and wise, as he is confessed on all hands to have been-his seizure of the supreme national crown was a calamity for Ireland. Or rather, perhaps, it would be more correct and more just to say, that having reference not singly to his ambitious seizure of the national crown, but also to the loss in one day of his own life and the lives of his next heirs (both son and grandson), the event resulted calamitously for Ireland. For," it threw open the sovereignty to every great family as a prize to be won by policy or force, and no longer an inheritance to be determined by law and usage. The consequences were what might have been expected. After his death the O'Con

nors of the West competed with both O'Neills and O'Briens for supremacy, and a chronic civil war prepared the way for Strongbow and the Normans. The term 'kings with opposition' is applied to nearly all who reigned between king Brian's time and that of Roderic O'Connor" (the Norman invasion), "meaning thereby kings who were unable to secure general obedience to their administration of affairs."*

Brian, however, in all probability, as the historian I have quoted pleads on his behalf, might have been moved by the great and statesmanlike scheme of consolidating and fusing Ireland into one kingdom; gradually repressing individuality in the subordinate principalities, and laying the firm foundation of an enduring and compact monarchical state, of which his own posterity would be the sovereigns. "For Morrogh, his first-born, and for Morrogh's descendants he hoped to found an hereditary kingship after the type universally copied throughout Christendom. He was not ignorant of what Alfred had done for England, Harold for Norway, Charlemagne for France, and Otho for Germany." If any such design really inspired Brian's course, it was a grandly useful one, comprehensive, and truly national. Its realization was just what Ireland wanted at that period of her history. But its existence in Brian's mind is a most fanciful theory. He was himself, while a tributary king, no wondrous friend or helper of centralized authority. He pushed from the throne a wise and worthy monarch. He grasped at the sceptre, not in a reign of anarchy, but in a period of comparative order, authority, and tranquillity.

Be that as it may, certain it is that Brian was "every inch a king." Neither on the Irish throne, nor on that of any other kingdom, did sovereign ever sit more splendidly qualified to rule; and Ireland had not for some centuries known such a glorious and prosperous, peaceful, and happy time as the five years preceding Brian's death. He caused his authority to be not only unquestioned, but obeyed and respected in every corner of the land. So justly were the laws admims

* M'Gee,