me, calling me by my name, and giving me her hand to kiss, telling me that she was glad that I was the happy man to bring the first news of that glorious victory ... and so I was dismissed with grace and favour."

In reading of this journey from Cork to London, it is almost necessary to be reminded that it took place two hundred and fifty years before the introduction of steam-boats and railways. At the close of the rebellion, Richard Boyle purchased from Sir Walter Raleigh all his lands in Munster; and on July 25, 1603, he married his second wife, Catharine, the only daughter of Sir Geoffrey Fenton, principal Secretary of State, and Privy Councillor in Ireland, "with whom I never demanded any marriage portion, neither promise of any, it not being in my consideration; yet her father, after my marriage, gave me one thousand pounds in gold with her. But that gift of his daughter unto me I must ever thankfully acknowledge as the crown of all my blessings; for she was a most religious, virtuous, loving, and obedient wife unto me all the days of her life." He was knighted by the Lord Deputy of Ireland, Sir George Carew, on his wedding-day; was sworn Privy Councillor of State of the Kingdom of Ireland in 1612; created Lord Boyle, Baron of Youghall, September 29, 1616; Lord Viscount of Dungarvon and Earl of Cork, October 26, 1620; one of the Lords Justices of Ireland, with a salary of £1200 per annum, in 1629; and Lord High Treasurer of Ireland, November 9, 1631.

Robert Boyle, the seventh son of the Earl of Cork, was born January 25, 1627. His mother died February 16, 1630. The earl lived in prosperity in Ireland till the breaking out of the rebellion in 1641, and died at Youghall in September, 1643. It is said that when Cromwell saw the vast improvements which the earl had made on his estate in Munster, he declared that "if there had been an Earl of Cork in every province, it would have been impossible for the Irish to have raised a rebellion."

At a very early age Robert was sent by his father to a country nurse, "who, by early inuring him, by slow degrees, to a coarse but cleanly diet, and to the usual passion of the air, gave him so vigorous a complexion that both hardships were made easy to him by custom, and the delights of conveniences and ease were endeared to him by their rarity." Making the acquaintance of some children who stuttered in their speech, he, by imitation, acquired the same habit, "so contagious and catching are men's faults, and so dangerous is the familiar commerce of those condemnable customs, that, being imitated but in jest, come to be learned and acquired in earnest." Before going to school he studied French and Latin, and showed considerable aptitude for scholarship. He was then sent to Eton, where his master took much notice of him, and "would sometimes give him unasked play-days, and oft bestow upon him such balls and tops and other implements of idleness as he had taken away from others that had unduly used them."

While at school, in the early morning, a part of the wall of the bedroom, with the bed, chairs, books, and furniture of the room above, fell on him and his brother. "His brother had his band torn about his neck, and his coat upon his back, and his chair crushed and broken under him; but by a lusty youth, then accidentally in the room, was snatched from out the ruins, by which [Robert] had, in all probability, been immediately oppressed, had not his bed been curtained by a watchful Providence, which kept all heavy things from falling on it; but the dust of the crumbled rubbish raised was so thick that he might there have been stifled had not he remembered to wrap his head in the sheet, which served him as a strainer, through which none but the purer air could find a passage." At Eton he spent nearly four years, "in the last of which he forgot much of that Latin he had got, for he was so addicted to more solid parts of knowledge that he hated the study of bare words naturally, as something that relished too much of pedantry to consort with his disposition and designs." On leaving Eton he joined his father at Stalbridge, in Dorsetshire, and was sent to reside with "Mr. W. Douch, then parson of that place," who took the supervision of his studies. Here he renewed his acquaintance with Latin, and devoted some attention to English verse, spending some of his idle hours in composing verses, "most of which, the day he came of age, he sacrificed to Vulcan, with a design to make the rest perish by the same fate." A little later he returned to his father's house in Stalbridge, and was placed under the tutelage of a French gentleman, who had been tutor to two of his brothers.

In October, 1638, Robert Boyle and his brother were sent into France. After a short stay at Lyons, they reached Geneva, where Robert remained with his tutor for about a year and three quarters. During his residence here an incident occurred which he regarded as the most important event of his life, and which we therefore give in his own words.

"To frame a right apprehension of this, you must understand that, though his inclinations were ever virtuous, and his life free from scandal and inoffensive, yet had the piety he was master of already so diverted him from aspiring unto more, that Christ, who long had lain asleep in his conscience (as He once did in the ship), must now, as then, be waked by a storm. For at a time which (being the very heat of summer) promised nothing less, about the dead of night, that adds most terror to such accidents, [he] was suddenly waked in a fright with such loud claps of thunder (which are oftentimes very terrible in those hot climes and seasons), that he thought the earth would owe an ague to the air, and every clap was both preceded and attended with flashes of lightning, so frequent and so dazzling that [he] began to imagine them the sallies of that fire that must consume the world. The long continuance of that dismal tempest, where the winds were so loud as almost drowned the noise of the very thunder, and the showers so hideous as almost quenched the lightning ere it could reach his eyes, confirmed him in his apprehensions of the day of judgment's being at hand. Whereupon the consideration of his unpreparedness to welcome it, and the hideousness of being surprised by it in an unfit condition, made him resolve and vow that, if his fears were that night disappointed, all his further additions to his life should be more religiously and watchfully employed. The morning came, and a serene, cloudless sky returned, when he ratified his determinations so solemnly, that from that day he dated his conversion, renewing, now he was past danger, the vow he had made whilst he believed himself to be in it; and though his fear was (and he blushed it was so) the occasion of his resolution of amendment, yet at least he might not owe his more deliberate consecration of himself to piety to any less noble motive than that of its own excellence."

After leaving Geneva, he crossed the Alps and travelled through Northern Italy. Here he spent much time in learning Italian; "the rest of his spare hours he spent in reading the modern history in Italian, and the new paradoxes of the great stargazer Galileo, whose ingenious books, perhaps because they could not be so otherwise, were confuted by a decree from Rome; his highness the Pope, it seems, presuming, and that justly, that the infallibility of his chair extended equally to determine points in philosophy as in religion, and loth to have the stability of that earth questioned in which he had established his kingdom."

Having visited Rome, he at length returned to France, and was detained at Marseilles, awaiting a remittance from the earl to enable him to continue his travels. Through some