rendered valueless by the abstraction, no doubt with the view of enhancing the value of the stolen portions as soon as it should become safe to pretend a discovery of them. Every search was made, especially by O’Curry, about Cork, to see if any of the missing pages could be found; but it was not till seven or eight years afterwards that a communication was made that a large portion of the original MS. was actually in the possession of some person in Cork, but who the person was, or how he became possessed of it, the informant could not tell. This clue seems to have failed; but soon afterwards the late Sir William Betham’s collection of MSS. passed into the library of the Royal Irish Academy by sale, and among these were copies of the lost portions, and all made, as the scribe himself states at the end of one of them, by himself, Michael O’Longan, at the house of Dennis Ban O’Flinn, in Cork, in 1816, from the _Book of Lismore_. The missing portions of the MS. were at length traced, and the £50 asked for them was offered by the Royal Irish Academy; but the negotiation ultimately broke down, and they were purchased by Mr. Hewitt, of Summerhill, near Cork. Since that time, however, they have been restored, and the whole volume excellently repaired and handsomely bound by the Duke of Devonshire, who has most liberally allowed it to remain in Mr. Sanders’ possession for the purpose of copying. Whether O’Flinn actually mutilated the volume or not, there can be no doubt that pages and pages of it have been ruined and will eventually be rendered illegible by the most reckless use of that pernicious chemical agent, infusion of galls. Besides this, Mr. O’Flinn has written his name in several places of the book, among others all over the colored initial letter of one of the tracts, which he has entirely spoiled by filling in the open spaces with the letters of his name and the date of the outrage. But perhaps the most characteristic act performed by him is the interpolation of an eulogistic ode upon himself in Gaelic, of which the following is a literal translation: “Upon the dressing of this book by D. O’F., he said (or sang) as follows: “’O old chart! forget not, wheresoever you are taken, To relate that you met with the Doctor of Books; That helped you, out of compassion, from severe bondage, After finding you in forlorn state without a tatter about you, as it should be. Under the disparagement of the ignorant who liked not to know you, Till you met by chance with learned good‐nature from the person(57) Who put healing herbs with zeal to thy old wounds, And liberally put bloom on you at your old age, And baptized you the _Book of Lismore_. Forget not this friend that esteemed your figure, Distinguishing you, (though) of unseemly appearance, in humble words. I doubt not that truly you will declare to them there That you met with your fond friend ere you went to dust.”