the castle itself, two cathedral churches, dedicated, the earlier to Saint Patrick, the later to Saint Germain; besides two smaller churches; all of which had become, even in that day, more or less ruinous. Their decayed walls, exhibiting the rude and massive architecture of the most remote period, were composed of a ragged grey stone, which formed a singular contrast. with the bright red freestone of which the window-cases, corner-stones, arches, and other ornamental parts of the building were composed.

Besides these four ruinous churches, the space of ground inclosed by the massive exterior walls of Holm-Peel exhibited many other vestiges of the olden time. There was a square mound of earth, facing, with its angles to the points of the compass, one of those motes, as they were called, on which, in ancient times, the northern tribes elected or recognized their chiefs, and held their solemn popular assemblies, or comitia. There was also one of those singular towers, so common in Ireland as to have proved the favourite theme of her antiquaries; but of which the real use and meaning seems yet to be hidden in the mist of ages. This of Holm-Peel had been converted to the purpose of a watch-tower. There were, besides, Runic monuments, of which the legends could not be decyphered; and later inseriptions to the memory of champions, of whom the names only were preserved from oblivion. But tradition and superstitious eld, still most busy where real history is silent, had filled up

the long blank of accurate information with tales of Sea-kings and Pirates, Hebridean Chiefs and Norwegian Resolutes, who had formerly warred against, and in defence of, this famous castle. Superstition, too, had her tales of fairies, ghosts, and spectres- her legends of saints and demons, of fairies and of familiar spirits, which in no corner of the British empire are told and received with more absolute credulity than in the Isle of Man.

Amidst all these ruins of an older time arose the castle itself,-now ruinous-but in Charles II.'s reign well garrisoned, and, in a military point of view, kept in complete order. It was a venerable and very ancient building, containing several apartments of sufficient size and height to be termed noble. But in the surrender of the island by Christian, the furniture had been, in a great measure, plundered or destroyed by the republican soldiers; so that, as we have before hinted, its present state was ill adapted for the residence of the noble proprietor. Yet it had been often the abode, not only of the Lords of Man, but of those state prisoners whom the Kings of Britain sometimes committed to their charge.

In this Castle of Holm-Peel the great king› maker, Richard, Earl of Warwick, was confined, during one period of his eventful life, to ruminate at leisure on his farther schemes of ambition. And here, too, Eleanor, the haughty wife. of the good Duke of Gloucester, pined out in seclusion the last days of her banishment. The sentinels pretended that her discontented spectre

was often visible at night, traversing the battlements of the external walls, or standing motionless beside a particular solitary turret of one of the watch-towers with which they are flanked; but dissolving into air at cock-crow, or when the bell tolled from the yet remaining tower of Saint Germain's church.

Such was Holm-Peel, as records inform us, till towards the end of the seventeenth century.

It was in one of the lofty but almost unfur nished apartments of this ancient castle that Julian Peveril found his friend the Earl of Derby, who had that moment sate down to a breakfast composed of various sorts of fish. « Welcome, most imperial Julian,» he said; « welcome to our royal fortress; in which, as yet, we are not like to be starved with hunger, though well nigh dead for cold.>>

Julian answered by inquiring the meaning of this sudden movement.

Upon my word,» replied the earl, « you know nearly as much of it as I do. My mother has told me nothing about it; supposing, I believe, that I will at length be tempted to inquire; but she will find herself much mistaken. I shall give her credit for full wisdom in her proceedings, rather than put her to the trouble to render a reason, though no woman can render one better."

« Come, come; this is affectation, my good friend," said Julian. "You should inquire into these matters a little more curiously.»

«To what purpose?» said the earl. « To hear old stories about the Tynwald laws, and the contending rights of the lords and the clergy, and all the rest of that Celtic barbarism, which, like Burgesse's thorough-paced doctrine, enters at one ear, paces through, and goes out at the

other?»>

Come, my lord,» said Julian, « you are not so indifferent as you would represent yourselfyou are dying of curiosity to know what this hurry is about; only you think it the courtly humour to appear careless about your own affairs."

'

Why, what should it be about,» said the young earl, « unless some factious dispute between our Majesty's minister, Governor Nowel, and our vassals? or perhaps some dispute betwixt our Majesty and the ecclesiastical jurisdictions? for all which, our Majesty cares as little as any king in Christendom.»>

<< I rather suppose there is intelligence from England," said Julian. << I heard last night in Peel-town, that Greenhalgh is come over with unpleasant news.»

« He brought me nothing that was pleasant, I wot well," said the earl. «I expected something from St Evremond or Hamilton-some new plays by Dryden or Lee; and some waggery or lampoons from the Rose Coffee-house; and the fellow has brought me nothing but a parcel of tracts about Protestants and Papists, and a folio play-book, one of the conceptions, as she calls

them, of that old madwoman the Duchess of Newcastle.">

« Hush, my lord, for Heaven's sake," said Peveril; << here comes the countess; and you know she takes fire at the least slight to her ancient friend. >>

« Let her read her ancient friend's works herself then,» said the earl, « and think her as wise as she can; but I would not give one of Waller's songs, or Denman's satires, for a whole cart-load of her grace's trash.-But here comes our mother, with care on her brow.»

The Countess of Derby entered the apartment accordingly, holding in her hand a number of papers. Her dress was a mourning habit, with a deep train of black velvet, which was borne by a little favourite attendant, a deaf and dumb girl, whom, in compassion to her misfortune, the countess had educated about her person for some years. Upon this unfortunate, with the touch of romance which marked many of her proceedings, Lady Derby had conferred the name of Fenella, after some ancient princess of the island. The countess herself was not much changed since we last presented her to our readers. Age had rendered her step more slow, but not less majestic; and while it traced some wrinkles on her brow, had failed to quench the sedate fire of her dark eye. The young men rose to receive her with the formal reverence which they knew she loved, and were greeted by her with equal kindness.