Freeman office, and the Evening Post. No other portion of the Dublin press demands notice in this place; the character of the other journals can be easily obtained from a newspaper directory. There is, however, another paper in Ireland which may be cited among the curiosities of journalistic literature. This is the Limerick Chronicle, with which is identified one of the most respected families connected with the city whose name the paper bears. Its peculiarity, until recently, consisted in its military news, which was the freshest and fullest to be found in any paper in the United Kingdom. Indeed, at one time it was quoted in the English journals, and it was a saying that commandants of garrisons often learned their prospective movements from the Limerick Chronicle before they received any orders respecting them from the Horse Guards. Even now, though the *Dublin daily papers reach Limerick early in the day, the Limerick Chronicle holds its own as a commercial speculation.` It seldom inserts editorial articles; but this defect-if, indeed, it be one-is amply supplied by the able and tasteful manner in which it is subedited.

To sum up briefly the contents of this article-suggesting some peculiarities of the Irish press-it may be said that the Irish National press has done much to estrange the people in Ireland from the priests; that almost every influential paper in the sister island is directed by Protestants; and that the daily press of Dublin enumerates as many representatives as the daily press in London.

T. F. O'DONNELL.

TABLE TALK.

BY SYLVANUS URBAN, GENTLEMAN.

On the 9th of January, a few minutes before eleven in the forenoon, Napoleon III. breathed his last. The event was forthwith communicated to the world, and we were not only startled at the news, but the cloud of misfortune being cleared away by Death, we all of us became aware that the late Emperor stood in the foremost rank of great men. Napoleon died in exile, and at the age of sixtyfive; but if, like his favourite hero, Julius Cæsar, he had been assassinated in the meridian of his power and in the vigour of his manhood, the sensation caused by his death could hardly have been more profound. Perhaps the dust of a century must rest upon his tomb before he will be fairly estimated, for the Muse of History disdains the story that wears the gloss of novelty. The excitement coincident to his death, however, shows that he will have a niche in the Temple of Fame that would have satisfied the most voracious ambition. But what would have most gratified the late Emperor, if he could have had a prevision of the talk of mankind on the morrow of his death, was that in France, his native land, in Italy, the land he redeemed from bondage, and in England, the land he loved with the love of an adopted son, he was kindly remembered. Nor is the death of the exiled Emperor an unimportant event. His late sorrows had to some extent made Imperialism and his dynasty unpopular in France. A people covetous of military glory could not forgive the fatal field of Sedan. They did not remember the twenty years of prosperity, but even a section of devoted Imperialists held that the Prince who had surrendered his sword to the German victor could not again be the ruling Emperor of the French. Napoleon III. is dead, and an obstruction to the restoration of the Empire is removed. Napoleon IV. is too young to be responsible for the troubles of the Empire. He is so young that he may live to give the word of command when France is ready for the war of vengeance. While Napoleon III. lived the restoration of the Empire was well nigh impossible, but now no one who is conversant with French affairs will say that it is impossible.

It was not the political consequences that

men thought of when they heard of the death of Napoleon III. They thought of his wonderful career-an exile in boyhood, a forlorn adventurer in his early manhood, the prisoner of Ham, the refugee in England, the Prince President, the Emperor of the French, the arbiter of peace and war, the ally of England in the Crimean war, the hero of the Italian war, and once more an exile in England. And throughout this career Napoleon bore himself as became a king of men. In prosperity never unduly exultant, in adversity ever calm, he had often manifested an intrepid bearing in moments of danger, and amidst the horrors of Sedan men marvelled at the fearless demeanour of the unfortunate and suffering Emperor. It is admitted that he rendered splendid service to the cause of human progress. He might have fought Germany in 1864, and triumphed, but his triumph would have postponed the unity of Germany; and posterity will not blame him for hoping to keep up the position of France without deluging Europe with blood. His Mexican expedition was a mistake; but success might have been a blessing to that country. When his death was announced to the Italian Chamber, there was a grateful acknowledgment that he had by his advice and by his prowess emancipated Italy. After centuries of hostility, he united England and France in the bonds of amity. There is something touching in his staunch and enduring friendship for our country. He offended his subjects rather than relax that friendship, and adopted a policy of free trade beneficial to both 'countries, though it was not popular in France. About his private character there is to be said that his wife and son were devoted to him, and no man ever had more loving friends. Their affection was not less ardent when he was in exile, and when he died they grieved with warm and irrepressible grief. He was human. He had faults and failings, but his virtues were grand and conspicuous. Take him altogether, he was the greatest man of our times, and though dying in exile it is not surprising that his death has engaged the attention and thought of the world.

IN these high-pressure days it is gratifying to see an author stepping aside from general work to set up a literary monument, however small, by which he would desire to be remembered. I have myself had these fits of longing to live in the future, to be known and to be read long after the weeds have buried the plain slab with him in whose memory it was once set up fresh and new. I fancy Blanchard Jerrold was influenced by some sentiment of this kind

when he wrote "The Christian Vagabond," which he contributed some time since to my pages. It is an earnest and worthy performance, and I am glad to receive the work in book form, nicely printed and embellished with characteristic illustrations by the author himself. "The Christian Vagabond" strikes the key-note of the best and holiest impulses of the human heart.

DR. SHEA, of New York, has been engaged for a considerable time in an investigation of the names of the States, in their origin and significance. He has set forth the result in an "Historical Record," from which I gather some very curious information. Some of our educationists will do well to revise their books on geography from these new facts. Alabama is from the name of the tribe originally written Alibamon by the French. The late Rev. Mr. Byington, an accomplished Choctaw scholar, sustained the earlier French by making the Alibamons to be Choctaws, and he ridiculed the translation, Here we rest; or, the land of rest. Mississippi is not Choctaw or Natchez at all. The name first reached the French missionaries and voyageurs through the northern Algonquin tribes, and is clearly intelligible in their languages. Missi or Michi means great; sipi, river; so that it simply means great river, a derivation supported by the Greek. The Ottawa was called Kichisipi, a great river; and Colonel Pichlynn, a very intelligent Shawnee, when asked by the late Buckingham Smith the meaning of Chesapeake, at once said Kichi-sipik-place of the great water. Arkansas is written in early French documents Alkansas, so that the French word arc certainly did not enter it, and such compounds are not in the style of the French. Alkansas or Arkansas was the name given by the Algonquins tribe to the nation calling themselves Quappas. Kentucky is by Algonquin scholars interpreted like Connecticut-the long river. Ohio is not a Shawnee word, or a word in any Algonquin dialect. It is pure Iroquois, like Ontario, and means, in Iroquois, beautiful river. Michigan is Michi, great; and gami, lake, in Algonquin, and is given in an early French Illinois dictionary. As earliest given it is Michigami. Illinois is not a compound of Indian and French, but a Canadian-French attempt to express the word Illiniwek, which in Algonquin is a verbal form, "We are men." The wek gradually got written ois, pronounced way, or nearly so. We say Illy-noy; but the French said Illeen-way, and the Indians Illeen-week. Wisconsin arises from a misprint; all the early French documents have Quisconsing, or Misconsing, and this seems to come from Miscosi

it is red. Wishcons may mean a small beaver lodge. Missouri is a name first given in Marquette's journal, and evidently Algonquin. In an Illinois dictionary the meaning given is Canoe. In Baraga's dictionary, for It is muddy, he gives ajishkiwika, but no word like Missouri. Iowa is written at first Aiouès, and was applied to a tribe of Indians, and would seem to be simply Ajawa-across, beyond, as if to say the tribe beyond the river. With this we may compare the term Hebrews, so called from having crossed over into another country, from the Euphrates. Texas was a name applied to a confederacy, and is said by Morfi, in his "Manuscript History of Texas," to mean Friends.

THERE is no data upon which to form a reliable account of the origin of billiards. Dr. Johnson gives reasons for believing that the game had its birth in England. Todd argues that billiards originated in France. Strutt, who is an excellent authority on "Sports and Pastimes," believes billiards to be merely the game of paille-maille transferred from the ground to the table, and concerning which "Cavendish" gave an illustration in the first volume of my "entirely new series." Billiards superseded shovel-board. In 1674 a billiard table had six pockets. The bed of the table was made of oak, and the cushions were stuffed with "fine flax or cotton." Maces, not cues, were used, made of some weighty wood and tipped with ivory. The peculiarity of the game consisted in the use of a small arch of ivory, called the "port" (placed where the pyramid spot now stands), and of an ivory peg or "king," placed at the opposite end of the table. Two balls were used, and the game played was the whitewinning game (single pool), five up by day-light, three by candle-light. Beyond the "lives" scores were counted appertaining to passing the port or to touching the king. "French billiards," which was essentially single pool, was next introduced. "Carambole," the precursor of billiards as now played in England, was the next advance in the game. "Curiously enough, the French have of late years entirely discarded pockets, playing only cannons: and what was formerly the French game is now called the English game." Up to 1810 the development of the game was very slow; soon after this date the introduction of cueplaying, leathern tips and chalk, side-strokes, and improvements in tables caused quite a revolution in the science of billiards. named Bentley, proprietor of a billiard room at Bath, discovered the side-stroke; and May, a billiard table keeper, first popularised the spot. When Cook became the champion player of England he eclipsed all previous scores, making breaks of 417 (137 spots), 447

A man