of
Rosa, Charles' wife. She still continues ill, but hopes are entertained
of her recovery." After this entry the diary breaks off abruptly, and we
are left to fill in details by family statements and hearsay.

An inherited predisposition to insanity probably ran in Rosa's veins. We
are told that, during her husband's absence in the West Indies, whilst
stopping at Rathmines with Mrs. Brenane, she had endeavoured to throw
herself out of the window when suffering from an attack of mania. Now,
whether in consequence of the passionate jealousy of her southern
nature, which for months had been worked upon by that "nice person,"
Miss Butcher, or whether the same predisposition broke out again, we
only know that the restraining link of self-control, that keeps people
on the right side of the "thin partition," gave way. Gloomy fits of
silence and depression were succeeded by scenes of such violence that
the poor creature had ultimately to be put under restraint. The attack
was apparently temporary. Daniel James, her second son, was born a year
later in Dublin, after the departure of her husband for the Crimea.

Charles Hearn was undoubtedly a most gallant soldier; he fought at the
battles of Alma and Inkermann, through the siege of Sevastopol, and
returned in March, 1855. After this his regiment was stationed for some
little time at the Curragh. Years afterwards Lafcadio described the
scarlet-coated, gold-laced officers who frequented the house at this
time, and remembered creeping about as a child amongst their spurred
feet under the dinner-table.

[Illustration: Major Charles Bush Hearn (Hearn's Father).]

It is extremely difficult to make out how much the little fellow knew,
or did not know, of the various tragic circumstances that darkened these
years--the unhappiness that at last led to the separation of his father
and mother; and the cloud that at various periods overshadowed his
mother's brain.

In the series of letters written to his half-sister, Mrs. Atkinson,
which, unfortunately, we are not permitted to give in their entirety,
strange lights are cast on the course of events. "I only once," he says,
"remember seeing my brother as a child. Father had brought me some tin
soldiers, and cannon to fire peas. While I was arranging them in order
for battle, and preparing to crush them with artillery, a little boy
with big eyes was introduced to me as my brother. Concerning the fact of
brotherhood, I was totally indiffe