The genial temper of this work pervades even the political pieces. Miss Mitchell is no respecter of persons or institutions: she finds food for derision in friend as well as foe. But her laughter is not bitter--unless, perhaps, a tinge comes in when she touches that old source of bitterness, the gulf between the Saxon and the Celt-- We are a pleasant people, the laugh upon our lip Gives answer back to your laugh in gay good fellowship; We dance unto your piping, we weep when you want tears; Wear a clown's dress to please you, and to your friendly jeers Turn up a broad fool's face and wave a flag of green-- But the naked heart of Ireland, who, who has ever seen? There is, however, a more important strain of heredity in the new Irish poetry; and it comes directly through the renaissance of which we have already spoken. There are two lines of development which begin in that rebirth; but they proceed almost at right angles from each other. One, the clearer and more direct, is towards work of a specifically literary order. The other is tending to a simple and direct rendering of life. On the one hand we find poetry which is romantic in manner and heroic in theme. This is largely of narrative form, and seems to hold within it the promise of epic growth. On the other hand, there is a lyric form of less pretension and wilder grace; music so fresh and apparently artless as to mock the idea of derivation. Yet it, too, owes its vitality to the same impulse, and is, perhaps, its healthiest blossoming. The treasury of Irish romance has been eagerly drawn upon by the literary poet; and splendid stories they are for his purpose. Every one by this time knows the incomparable Deirdre legend, in one or other of the fine versions by Mr Yeats, Mr Trench or Synge. Deirdre, as a heroine of the ancient world, positively shines beside a Helen or a Cleopatra. In her is crystallized the Celtic conception of womanhood, with her free, clean, brave, generous soul; magnificently choosing her true mate rather than wed the High King Conchubar; and with her lover magnificently paying the penalty of death. We have become almost as familiar, too, with the Hosting of Maeve, the prowess of Cuchulain, and the mythological figures of Dagda and Dana, who are the Zeus and Hera of early Irish religion. Here is a fragment of a poem by Mr James Cousins called "The Marriage of Lir and Niav." The personages of the story belong to very early myth. To find Lir you must go back past the heroes and the demigods: further still, past the gods themselves, to their ancestors. For Lir was the father of Mananan the sea-god; and he was the Lord of the Seven Isles. Niav (or Niamh) is described as the Aphrodite of Irish myth; which probably accounts for the symbolism in the passage where Lir first sees her--