had retired to rest without any symptoms of indisposition; and the next morning was found lifeless in his bed,--death having, to all appearance, taken place quite painlessly during sleep. By those who knew him he was mourned, and by none more sincerely than the genial “Father Prout,” who added the following postscript to his article on “The Rogueries of Tom Moore,” already in print when the news of his young friend’s death reached him:-- “MEM.--On the 28th of June 1835, died, at The Hermitage, Hanwell, Henry O’Brien, author of _The Round Towers of Ireland_. His portrait was hung up in the gallery of Regina on the 1st August following; and the functionary who exhibits the ‘Literary Characters’ dwelt thus on his merits:-- “In the village graveyard of Hanwell (_ad_ viii. _ab urbe lapidem_) sleeps the original of yonder sketch.... Some time back we had our misgivings that the oil in his flickering lamp of life would soon dry up; still we were not prepared to hear of his light being thus abruptly extinguished. “One morn we missed him” from the accustomed table at the library of the British Museum, where the page of antiquity awaited his perusal; “another came--nor yet” was he to be seen behind the pile of _Asiatic Researches_, poring over his favourite Herodotus, or deep in the Zendavesta. “The next” brought tidings of his death. His book on the Round Towers has thrown more light on the early history of Ireland, and on the freemasonry of those gigantic puzzles, than will ever shine from the cracked pitchers of the Royal Irish Academy, or the farthing candle of Tommy Moore.... No emblem will mark the sequestered spot where lies the Œdipus of the Round Towers riddle--no hieroglyphic.... But ye who wish for monuments to his memory, go to his native land, and there--_circumspicite!_--Glendalough, Devenish, Clondalkin, Inis-Scattery, rear their architectural cylinders; and each proclaims to the four winds of heaven ... the name of him who solved the problem of 3000 years, and who first disclosed the drift of these erections.... Suffice it to add that he fell a victim to the intense ardour with which he pursued the antiquarian researches that he loved.” One portion at least of the good Father’s prophecy was amply fulfilled. In _Irish Graves in England_, by Michael M’Donagh (_Evening Telegraph Reprints_: Dublin, 1888), a chapter on O’Brien contains these words:-- “His grave cannot now be identified in Hanwell churchyard. It was never marked by even a rude stone. In the register of burials the entry is: ‘No. 526, Henry O’Brien, Hanwell, July 2, years 26. Charles Birch, officiating clergyman.’ Tho number of the grave did not help towards its identification, and an examination of every stone did not result in the discovery of the name of O’Brien.”