Ah! glorious Tongue, whose accents could each Celtic heart enthrall! Ah! rushing Tongue, that sounded like the swollen torrent's fall! The Tongue, that in the Senate was lightning flashing bright— Whose echo in the battle was the thunder in its might! That Tongue, which once in chieftain's hall poured loud the minstrel lay, As chieftain, serf, or minstrel old, is silent there to-day! That Tongue whose shout dismayed the foe at Cong and Mullaghmast, Like those who nobly perished there, is numbered with the Past! The Celtic Tongue is passing and we stand so coldly by- tongue. Russia's great Czar ne'er stood secure o'er Poland's shattered frame. Until he trampled from her heart the tongue that bore her name. ROBERT DWYER JOYCE. R. ROBERT D. JOYCE was born in the village of Glenisheen, Limerick, Ireland, in the year of our Lord, 1830. He came of an old family well and widely known within the borders of Galway for daring as well as devotion to the cause of native land. The stock also produced many men of letters. The mother of our author was Elizabeth O'Dwyer, a lineal descendant of the renowned bard and huntsman, John O'Dwyer of the Glens-"Shawn O'Dhear na Gleanna"-who after the fall of Limerick became a distinguished officer in the French army. In the village school young Joyce evinced great aptitude for learning, and gave promise of a bright future. He was passionately fond of languages, and when at an early age he went to Dublin to complete his education, his familiarity with classic lore astonished those who became his preceptors. His college career was marked with great success; and having secured a medical diploma in the Queen's College, Dr. Joyce was appointed Professor of English Literature in the Preparatory Department of the Catholic University. Soon after he was elected a member of the Royal Irish Academy, Dublin, having for sponsors such distinguished men as the Earl of Dunraven and Professor Ingram, the author of "Who Fears to Speak of Ninety-eight?" Though these honors came thick and fast upon the talented young medico and litterateur, they did not satisfy him. British rule in Ireland did not suit his ideas of freedom, and he could not and would not enjoy such honors while his country smarted under the tyrant's lash. His sympathy was with the Fenian movement for Irish Independence, and his pen contributed much, both in prose and verse to fan the flame of rebellion. The eyes of English officials were upon him and he knew it. him and he knew it. Still greater honors, and positions of emolument awaited him, could he only be prevailed upon to trample under foot his national aspirations and go over to the ranks of his country's oppressors. Rather than surrender his patriotic principles, he followed the heroic example of his ancestors and went into voluntary exile. In 1866 he commenced the practice of his profession in Boston, where his talents were immediately recognized, and his services soon held in high esteem. Among the literary men of the "Hub" who hailed the advent of the young Irish poet may be mentioned such men as ex-Gov. Long, John C. Abbott, Wendell Phillips and Dr. Oliver Wendel Holmes; and all these remained his firm friends and ardent admirers to the end. His career in Boston was fraught with success. From the exactions of an extremely busy professional life he snatched time enough to write a great number of books, which became popular even in his own day. During "office hours" his ante-room was always crowded with sufferers, seeking advice and medical treatment. Sick calls came to him not only from every quarter of the great city, but also from the surrounding towns that are now incorporated with and in the city of Boston. He spoke kindly to everybody who approached him, and never sent one away in a hurry. With the intelligent and educated he conversed freely and leisurely, always choosing some subject with which he knew his patient was familiar. Irish history was his delight. Every phase of Erin's long and eventful struggle seemed familiar to him as the simple rudiments of the healing art. Every stream, ruin and historic plain from Bantry Bay to Lough Foyle, and from Kingston to Galway, he knew, and loved with an undying love. How he so familiarized himself with the topography of his native land-and that, too, during the busy days of student life—has always seemed little less than a mystery to the writer, who had the honor of his acquaintance. This fact is amply illustrated by his "Ballads of Irish Chivalry," which not only com... memorate great events in the struggles of the Gael, but also vividly and faithfully describe the scene of every battle. It was on Erin's elder days, however, that the poet-physician gloried to dwell. The days. When her Kings, with standard of green unfurl'd, Led the Red Branch Knights to danger, Ere the emerald gem of the Western world Was set in the crown of a stranger, seemed to have for Dr. Joyce a peculiar and fascinating charm. This period of Irish history it was that inspired "Deirdre," his longest, best and most enduring poem. Yet Erin was dear to him in her sorrow, |