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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Going To Maynooth, by William Carleton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Going To Maynooth
+       Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of
+       William Carleton, Volume Three
+
+Author: William Carleton
+
+Illustrator: M. L. Flanery
+
+Release Date: June 7, 2005 [EBook #16016]
+Last Updated: March 2, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOING TO MAYNOOTH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+TRAITS AND STORIES OF THE IRISH PEASANTRY
+
+BY WILLIAM CARLETON
+
+
+PART V.
+
+
+[Illustration: Frontispiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: Titlepage]
+
+
+
+
+
+GOING TO MAYNOOTH.
+
+
+Young Denis O'Shaughnessy was old Denis's son; and old Denis, like
+many great men before him, was the son of his father and mother in
+particular, and a long line of respectable ancestors in general. He was,
+moreover, a great historian, a perplexing controversialist, deeply read
+in Dr. Gallagher and Pastorini, and equally profound in the history of
+Harry the Eighth, and Luther's partnership with the devil. Denis was
+a tall man, who, from his peculiar appearance, and the nature of
+his dress, a light drab-colored frieze, was nicknamed the Walking
+Pigeon-house; and truly, on seeing him at a distance, a man might
+naturally enough hit upon a worse comparison. He was quite straight,
+carried both his arms hanging by his sides, motionless and at their
+full length, like the pendulums of a clock that has ceased going. In his
+head, neck, and chest there was no muscular action visible; he walked,
+in fact, as if a milk-pail were upon his crown, or as if a single nod of
+his would put the planets out of order. But the principal cause of the
+similarity lay in his roundness, which resembled that of a pump, running
+to a point, or the pigeon-house aforesaid, which is still better.
+
+Denis, though a large man, was but a small farmer, for he rented only
+eighteen acres of good land. His family, however, like himself, was
+large, consisting of thirteen children, among whom Denis junior stood
+pre-eminent. Like old Denis, he was exceedingly long-winded in argument,
+pedantic as the schoolmaster who taught him, and capable of taking a
+very comprehensive grasp of any tangible subject.
+
+Young Denis's display of controversial talents was so remarkably
+precocious, that he controverted his father's statements upon all
+possible subjects, with a freedom from embarrassment which promised well
+for that most distinguished trait in a controversialist--hardihood of
+countenance. This delighted old Denis to the finger ends.
+
+“Dinny, if he's spared,” he would say, “will be a credit to us all yet.
+The sorra one of him but's as manly as anything, and as longheaded as a
+four-footed baste, so he is! nothing daunts or dashes him, or puts him
+to an amplush: but he'll look you in the face so stout an' cute, an'
+never redden or stumble, whether he's right or wrong, that it does one's
+heart good to see him. Then he has such a laning to it, you see, that
+the crathur 'ud ground an argument on anything, thin draw it out to a
+norration an' make it as clear as rock-water, besides incensing you
+so well into the rason of the thing, that Father Finnerty himself 'ud
+hardly do it betther from the althar.”
+
+The highest object of an Irish peasant's ambition is to see his son a
+priest. Whenever a farmer happens to have a large family, he usually
+destines one of them for the church, if his circumstances are at all
+such as can enable him to afford the boy a proper education. This youth
+becomes the centre in which all the affections of the family meet. He
+is cherished, humored in all his caprices, indulged in his boyish
+predilections, and raised over the heads of his brothers, independently
+of all personal or relative merit in himself. The consequence is,
+that he gradually became self-willed, proud, and arrogant, often to
+an offensive degree; but all this is frequently mixed up with a lofty
+bombast, and an under-current of strong disguised affection, that render
+his early life remarkably ludicrous and amusing. Indeed, the pranks of
+pedantry, the pretensions to knowledge, and the humor with which it is
+mostly displayed, render these scions of divinity, in their intercourse
+with the people until the period of preparatory education is completed,
+the most interesting and comical class, perhaps, to be found in the
+kingdom. Of these learned priestlings young Denis was undoubtedly
+a first-rate specimen. His father, a man of no education, was,
+nevertheless, as profound and unfathomable upon his favorite subjects as
+a philosopher; but this profundity raised him mightily in the opinion of
+the people, who admired him the more the less they understood him.
+
+Now old Denis was determined that young Denis should tread in his own
+footsteps; and, sooth to say, young Denis possessed as bright a talent
+for the dark and mysterious as the father himself. No sooner had the
+son commenced Latin with the intention of adorning the church, than the
+father put him in training for controversy. For a considerable time
+the laurels were uniformly borne away by the veteran: but what will not
+learning do? Ere long the son got as far as syntax, about which time
+the father began to lose ground, in consequence of some ugly quotations
+which the son threw into his gizzard, and which unfortunately stuck
+there. By and by the father receded more and more, as the son advanced
+in his Latin and Greek, until, at length, the encounters were only
+resorted to for the purpose of showing off the son.
+
+When young Denis had reached the age of sixteen or seventeen, he was
+looked upon by his father and his family, as well as by all their
+relations in general, as a prodigy. It was amusing to witness the
+delight with which the worthy man would call upon his son to exhibit his
+talents, a call to which the son instantly attended. This was usually
+done by commencing a mock controversy, for the gratification of some
+neighbor to whom the father was anxious to prove the great talents
+of his son. When old Denis got the young sogarth fairly in motion, he
+gently drew himself out of the dispute, but continued a running comment
+upon the son's erudition, pointed out his good things, and occasionally
+resumed the posture of the controversialist to reinspirit the boy if he
+appeared to flag.
+
+“Dinny, abouchal, will you come up till Phadrick Murray hears you
+arguin' Scripthur wid myself, Dinny. Now, Phadrick, listen, but keep
+your tongue sayin' nothin'; just lave us to ourselves. Come up, Dinny,
+till you have a hate at arguin' wid myself.”
+
+“Fadher, I condimnate you at once--I condimnate you as being a most
+ungrammatical ould man, an' not fit to argue wid any one that knows
+Murray's English Grammar, an' more espaciously the three concords of
+Lily's Latin one; that is the cognation between the nominative case and
+the verb, the consanguinity between the substantive and the adjective,
+and the blood-relationship that irritates between the relative and the
+antecedent.”
+
+“I tould you, Phadrick!! There's the boy that can rattle off the high
+English, and the larned Latin, jist as if he was born wid an English
+Dictionary in one cheek, a Latin Neksuggawn in the other, an Doctor
+Gallagher's Irish Sarmons nately on the top of his tongue between the
+two.”
+
+“Fadher, but that unfortunately I am afflicted wid modesty, I'd blush
+crocus for your ignorance, as Virgil asserts in his Bucolics, _ut
+Virgilius ait in Bucolids_; and as Horatius, a book that I'm well
+acquainted wid, says in another place, _Huc pertinent verba_, says
+he, _commodandi, comparandi, dandi, prornittendi, soluendi imperandi
+nuntiandi, fidendi, obsequendi, minandi irascendi, et iis contraria_.”
+
+“That's a good boy, Dinny; but why would you blush for my ignorance,
+avourneen? Take care of yourself now an' spake deep, for I'll outargue
+you at the heel o' the hunt, cute as you are.”
+
+“Why do I blush for your ignorance, is it? Why thin, I'm sure I have
+sound rasons for it; only think of the gross persivarance wid which
+you call that larned work, the Lexicon in Greek, a neck-suggan. Fadher,
+never, attimpt to argue or display your ignorance wid me again. But,
+moreover, I can probate you to be an ungrammatical man from your own
+modus of argument.”
+
+“Go an, avourneen. Phadrick!!”
+
+“I'm listenin'. The sorra's no match for his cuteness, an' one's puzzled
+to think where he can get it all.”
+
+“Why, you don't know at all what I could do by larnin'. It would be no
+throuble to me to divide myself into two halves, an' argue the one agin
+the other.”
+
+“You would, in throth, Dinny.”
+
+“Ay, father, or cut myself acrass, an' dispute my head, maybe, agin my
+heels.”
+
+“Throth, would you!”
+
+“Or practise logic wid my right hand, and bate that agin wid my left.”
+
+“The sarra lie in it.”
+
+“Or read the Greek Tistament wid my right eye, an thranslate it at the
+same time wid my left, according to the Greek an' English sides of my
+face, wid my tongue constrein' into Irish, unknownst to both o' them.”
+
+“Why, Denis, he must have a head like a bell to be able to get into
+things.”
+
+“Throth an' he has that, an' 'ill make a noise in conthroversy yet, if
+he lives. Now, Dinny, let us have a hate at histhory.”
+
+“A hate at histhory?--wid all my heart; but before we begin, I tell you
+that I'll confound you precipitately; for you see, if you bate me in the
+English, I'll scarify you wid Latin, and give you a bang or two of Greek
+into the bargain. Och! I wish you'd hear the sackin' I gave Tom Reilly
+the other day; rubbed him down, as the masther says, wid a Greek towel,
+an' whenever I complimented him with the loan of a cut on the head,
+I always gave him a plaster of Latin to heal it; but the sorra worse
+healin' flesh in the world than Tom's is for the Latin, so I bruised a
+few Greek roots and laid them to his caput so nate, that you'd laugh
+to see him. Well is it histhory we are to begin wid? If it is, come
+on--advance. I'm ready for you--in protection--wid my guards up.”
+
+“Ha, ha, ha! Well, if he isn't the drollest crathur, an' so cute! But
+now for the histhory. Can you prove to me, upon a clear foundation, the
+differ atween black an' white, or prove that Phadrick Murray here,
+long life to him, is an ass? Now, Phadrick, listen, for you must decide
+betune us.”
+
+“Orra, have you no other larnin' than that to argue upon? Sure if you
+call upon me to decide, I must give it agin Dinny. Why my judgment won't
+be worth a hap'orth, if he makes an ass of me!”
+
+“What matther how you decide, man alive, if he proves you to be one;
+sure that is all we want. Never heed shakin' your head--listen an' it
+will be well worth your while. Why, man, you'll know more nor you ever
+knew or suspected before, when he proves you to be an ass.”
+
+“In the first place, fadher, you're ungrammatical in one word; instead
+of sayin' 'prove,' always say probate, or probe; the word is descended,
+that is, the ancisthor of it, is probo, a deep Greek word--probo,
+probas, prob-ass, that is to say, I'm to probe Phadrick here to be
+an ass. Now, do you see how pat I brought that in? That's the way,
+Phadrick, I chastise my fadher with the languages.”
+
+“In throth it is; go an avick. Phadrick!”
+
+“I'm listenin'.”
+
+“Phadrick, do you know the differ atween black an' white'?”
+
+“Atween black an' white? Hut, gorsoon, to be sure I do.”
+
+“Well, an' what might it be, Phadrick, my larned Athiop? What might it
+be, I negotiate?”
+
+“Why, thin, the differ atween them is this, Dinny, that black is--let me
+see--why--that black is not red--nor yallow--nor brown--nor green--nor
+purple--not cut-beard--nor a heather color--nor a grog-ram”--
+
+“Nor a white?”
+
+“Surely, Dinny, not a white, abouchal; don't think to come over me that
+way.”
+
+“But I want to know what color it is, most larned sager.”
+
+“All rasonable, Dinny, Why, thin, black is--let me see--hut, death
+alive!--it's--a--a--why, it's black, an' that's all I can say about it;
+yes, faix, I can--black is the color of Father Curtis's coat.”
+
+“An' what color is that, Phadrick?”
+
+“Why, it's black, to be sure.”
+
+“Well, now, what color is white, Phadrick?”
+
+“Why, it's a snow-color: for all the world the color of snow.”
+
+“White is?”
+
+“Ay, is it.”
+
+“The dear help your head, Phadrick, if that's all you know about snow.
+In England, man, snow is an Oxford gray, an' in Scotland, a pepper an'
+salt, an' sometimes a cut-beard, when they get a hard winther. I found
+that much in the Greek, any way, Phadrick. Thry agin, you imigrant, I'll
+give you another chance--what color is white?”
+
+“Why, thin, it's--white--an' nothin' else. The sorra one but you'd
+puzzle a saint wid your long-headed screwtations from books.”
+
+“So, Phadrick, your preamble is, that white is white, an' black is
+black?”
+
+“Asy avick. I said, sure enough, that white is white; but the black I
+deny--I said it was the color of Father Curtis's black coat.”
+
+“Oh, you barbarian of the world, how I scorn your profundity an'
+emotions! You're a disgrace to the human sex by your superciliousness
+of knowledge, an' your various quotations of ignorance. Ignorantia,
+Phadrick, is your date an' superscription. Now, stretch out your ears,
+till I probate, or probe to you the differ atween black an' white.”
+
+“Phadrick!!” said the father.
+
+“I'm listenin'.”
+
+“Now, Phadrick, here's the griddle, an' here's a clane plate. Do you see
+them here beside one another?”
+
+“I'm lookin' at them.”
+
+“Now, shut your eyes.”
+
+“Is that your way, Denis, of judgin' colors?”
+
+“Shut your eyes, I say, till I give you ocular demonstration of the
+differ atween these two respectable colors.”
+
+“Well, they're shut.”
+
+“An' keep them so. Now, what differ do you see atween them?”
+
+“The sorra taste, man alive; I never seen anything in my whole life so
+clearly of a color as they are both this minute.”
+
+“Don't you see now, Phadrick, that there's not the smallest taste o'
+differ in them, an' that's accordin' to Euclid.”
+
+“Sure enough, I see the divil a taste o' differ atween the two.”
+
+“Well, Phadrick, that's the point settled. There's no discrimination at
+all atween black an' white. They're both of the same color--so long as
+you keep your eyes shut.”
+
+“But if a man happens to open his eyes, Dinny?”
+
+“He has no right to open them, Phadrick, if he wants to prove the truth
+of a thing. I should have said probe--but it does not significate.”
+
+“The heavens mark you to grace, Dinny. You did that in brave style.
+Phadrick, ahagur, he'll make the darlin' of an arguer whin he gets the
+robes an him.”
+
+“I don't deny that; he'll be aquil to the best o' thim: still, Denis,
+I'd rather, whin I want to pronounce upon colors, that he'd let me keep
+my eyes open.”
+
+“Ay, but he did it out o' the books, man alive; an' there's no goin'
+beyant thim. Sure he could prove it out of the Divinity, if you went
+to that. An' what is still more, he could, by shuttin' your eyes, in the
+same way prove black to be white, an' white black, jist as asy.”
+
+“Surely myself doesn't doubt it. I suppose, by shuttin' my eyes, the
+same lad could prove anything to me.”
+
+“But, Dinny, avourneen, you didn't prove Phadrick to be an ass yit.
+Will you do that by histhory, too, Dinny, or by the norrations of
+Illocution?”
+
+“Father, I'm surprised at your gross imperception. Why, man, if you
+were not a _rara avis_ of somnolency, a man of most frolicsome
+determinations, you'd be able to see that I've proved Phadrick to be an
+ass already.”
+
+“Throth, I deny that you did; there wasn't a word about my bein' an
+ass, in the last discoorse. It was all upon the differ atween black an'
+white.”
+
+“Oh, how I scorn your gravity, man! _Ignorantia_, as I said, is your
+date an' superscription; an' when you die, you ought to go an' engage
+a stone-cutter to carve you a headstone, an' make him write on it, _Hic
+jacet Ignorantius Redivicus_. An' the translation of that is, accordin'
+to Publius Virgilius Maro--'here lies a quadruped who didn't know the
+differ atween black an' white.'”
+
+“Well, by the livin', Dinny, I dunna where you get all this deep
+readin'.”
+
+“Sure he gets it all in the Dixonary.”
+
+“Bedad, that Dixonary must be a fine book entirely, to thim that
+undherstand it.”
+
+“But, Dinny, will you tell Phadrick the Case of Conscience atween Barny
+Branagan's two goats an' Parra Ghastha's mare?”
+
+“Fadher, if you were a grammarian, I'd castigate your incompatability as
+it desarves--I'd lay the scourge o' syntax upon you, as no man ever
+got it since the invintion o' the nine parts of speech. By what rule of
+logic can you say that aither Barny Branagan's goats or Parra Ghastha's
+mare had a conscience? I tell you it wasn't they had the conscience,
+but the divine who decided the difficulty. Phadrick, lie down till I
+illusthrate.”
+
+“How is that, Dinny? I can hear you sittin'.”
+
+“Lie down, you reptile, or I shall decline the narration altogether.”
+
+“Arra, lie down, Phadrick; sure he only wants to show you the rason o'
+the thing.”
+
+“Well, well; I'm down. Now Dinny, don't let your feet be too larned, if
+you plase.”
+
+“Silence!--_taceto!_ you reptile. Now, Phadrick, here, on this side o'
+you, lies Barny Branagan's field; an' there, on that side, lies a field
+of Parra Ghastha's; you're the ditch o' mud betuxt them.”
+
+“The ditch o' mud! Faix that's dacent!”
+
+“Now here, on Barny Branagan's side, feeds Parra Ghastha's mare; an'
+there, on Parra Ghastha's side, feed Barny Branagan's goats. Do you
+comprehend? Do you insinuate?”
+
+“I do--I do. Death alive! there's no use in punchin' my sides wid your
+feet that way.”
+
+“Well, get up now an' set your ears.”
+
+“Now listen to him, Phadrick!”
+
+“It was one night in winter, when all nature shone in the nocturnal
+beauty of tenebrosity: the sun had set about three hours before; an',
+accordin' to the best logicians, there was a dearth of light. It's the
+general opinion of philosophers--that is, of the soundest o' them--that
+when the sun is down the moon an' stars are usually up; an' so they were
+on the night that I'm narratin' about. The moon was, wid great respect
+to her character, night-walkin' in the sky; and the stars vegetated in
+celestial genuflexion around her. Nature, Phadrick, was in great state;
+the earth was undher our feet, an' the sky above us. The frost, too,
+was hard, Phadrick, the air keen, an' the grass tendher. All things
+were enrobed wid verisimilitude an' scrupulosity. In this manner was the
+terraqueous part of our system, when Parra Ghastha's mare, after havin'
+taken a cowld collation on Barny Branagan's grass, was returnin' to her
+master's side o' the merin; an' Barny Branagan's goats, havin' tasted
+the sweets of Parra Ghastha's cabbages, were on their way acrass the
+said merin to their own side. Now it so happened that they met exactly
+at a narrow gap in the ditch behind Rosha Halpin's house. The goats,
+bein' coupled together, got one on each side of the rift, wid the rope
+that coupled them extended acrass it. The mare stood in the middle of
+it, so that the goats were in the way of the mare, an' the mare in the
+way of the goats. In the meantime they surveyed one another wid great
+composure, but had neither of them the politeness to stir, until Rosha
+Halpin came suddenly out, an' emptied a vessel of untransparent wather
+into the ditch. The mare, who must have been an animal endowed wid great
+sensibility of soul, stooped her head suddenly at the noise; an' the
+goats, who were equally sentimental, gave a start from nervishness. The
+mare, on raisin' her head, came in contact wid the cord that united the
+goats; an' the goats, havin' lost their commandin' position, came in
+contact wid the neck o' the mare. _Quid multis?_ They pulled an' she
+pulled, an' she pulled an' they pulled, until at length the mare was
+compelled to practise the virtue of resignation in the ditch, wid the
+goats about her neck. She died by suspinsion; but the mettlesome ould
+crathur, wid a love of justice that did her honor, hanged the goat's
+in requital; for they departed this vale of tears on the mountain side
+along wid her, so that they had the satisfaction of dyin' a social death
+together.--Now, Phadrick, you quadruped, the case of conscience is,
+whether Parra Ghastha has a right to make restitution to Barny Branagan
+for the loss of his goats, or Barny Branagan to Parra Ghastha for the
+loss of his mare?”
+
+“Bedad, that's a puzzler!”
+
+“Isn't it, Phadrick? But wait till you hear how he'll clear it up! Do it
+for Phadrick, Dinny.”
+
+“Yis, Phadrick, I'll illusthrate your intellects by divinity. You see,
+Phadrick, you're to suppose me to be in the chair, as confessor. Very
+well,--or _valde_, in the larned languages--Parra Ghastha comes to
+confess to me, an' tells me that Barny Branagan wants to be paid for his
+goats. I tell him it's a disputed point, an that the price o' the goats
+must go to the church. On the other hand, Barny Branagan tells me
+that Parra Ghastha wishes to be paid for his mare. I say again, it's
+a disputed point, an' that the price o' the mare must go to the
+church--the amount of the proceeds to be applied in prayer towards the
+benefit of the parties, in the first instance, an' of the faithful in
+general afterwards.”
+
+“Phadrick!!!”
+
+“Oh, that I may never, but he bates the globe!”
+
+Denny's character is a very common one in the remote parts of Ireland,
+where knowledge is novelty, and where the slightest tinge of learning
+is looked upon with such reverence and admiration, as can be properly
+understood only by those who have an opportunity of witnessing it.
+Indeed, few circumstances prove the great moral influence which the
+Irish priesthood possesses over the common people more forcibly, than
+the extraordinary respect paid by the latter to such as are designed for
+the “mission.” The moment the determination is made, an incipient
+sanctity begins, as it were, to consecrate the young priest; and a high
+opinion of his learning and talents to be entertained, no matter how
+dull he may be so far as honest nature is concerned. Whatever he says is
+sure to have some hidden meaning in it, that would be' highly edifying,
+if they themselves understood it. But their own humility comes in here
+to prop up his talents; and whatsoever perplexity there may be in
+the sense of what he utters, is immediately attributed to learning
+altogether beyond their depth.
+
+Love of learning is a conspicuous principle in an Irish peasant; and in
+no instance is it seen to greater advantage, than when the object of it
+appears in the “makins of a priest.” Among all a peasant's good and evil
+qualities, this is not the least amiable. How his eye will dance in his
+head with pride, when the young priest thunders out a line of Virgil
+or Homer, a sentence from Cicero, or a rule from Syntax! And with
+what complacency and affection will the father and relations of such a
+person, when sitting during a winter evening about the hearth, demand
+from him a translation of what he repeats, or a grammatical analysis, in
+which he must show the dependencies and relations of word upon word--the
+concord, the verb, the mood, the gender, and the case; into every
+one and all of which the learned youth enters with an air of oracular
+importance, and a pollysyllabicism of language that fails not in
+confounding them with astonishment and edification. Neither does Paddy
+confine himself to Latin or Greek, for his curiosity in hearing a little
+upon all known branches of human learning is boundless. When a lad is
+designed for the priesthood, he is, as if by a species of intuition,
+supposed to know more or less of everything--astronomy, fluxions,
+Hebrew, Arabic, and the black art, are subjects upon which he is
+frequently expected to dilate; and vanity scruples not, under the
+protection of their ignorance, to lead the erudite youth through
+what they believe to be the highest regions of imagination, or the
+profoundest depths of science and philosophy.
+
+It is, indeed, in those brilliant moments, when the young priest is
+launching out in full glory upon some topic of which he knows not a
+syllable, that it would be a learned luxury to catch him. These flights,
+however, are very pardonable, when we consider the importance they
+give him in the eyes of his friends, and reflect upon that lofty and
+contemptuous pride, and those delectable sensations which the appearance
+of superior knowledge gives to the pedant, whether raw or trained, high
+or low, in this profession or the other. It matters little that such
+a feeling dilates the vanity in proportion to the absence of real
+knowledge or good sense: it is not real, but affected knowledge, we are
+writing about. Pride is confined to no condition; nor is the juvenile
+pedantry of a youth upon the hob of an Irish chimney-corner much
+different from the pride which sits upon the brow of a worthy Lord
+Mayor, freshly knighted, lolling with strained dignity beside his
+honorable brother, the mace, during a city procession; or of a Lady
+Mayoress, when she reads upon a dead wall her own name flaming in yellow
+capitals, at the head of a subscription ball; or, what is better still,
+the contemptuous glance which, while about to open the said ball, her
+ladyship throws at that poor creature--the Sheriff's wife.
+
+In addition, however, to the enjoyment of this assumption of profound
+learning which characterizes the young priest, a different spirit,
+considerably more practical, often induces him to hook in other motives.
+The learning of Denis O'Shaughnessy, for instance, blazed with peculiar
+lustre whenever he felt himself out at elbows; for the logic with
+which he was able to prove the connection between his erudition and a
+woollen-draper's shop, was, like the ignorance of those who are to be
+saved, invincible. Whenever his father considered a display of the
+son's powers in controversy to be _capital_, Denis, who knew the _mollia
+tempora fandi_, applied to him for a hat. Whenever he drew a heretic,
+as a person who will be found hereafter without the wedding garment, and
+clinched the argument with half a dozen quotations from syntax or Greek
+grammar, he uniformly came down upon the father for a coat, the cloth
+of which was finer in proportion to the web of logic he wove during the
+disputation. Whenever he seated himself in the chair of rhetoric, or
+gave an edifying homily on prayer, with such eloquence as rendered the
+father's admiration altogether inexpressible, he applied for a pair of
+smallclothes; and if, in the excursiveness of his vigorous imagination
+he travelled anywhere beyond the bounds of common sense, he was certain
+to secure a pair of shoes.
+
+This, of course, did not escape the satirical observation of the
+neighbors, who commented upon the circumstance with that good humor
+which renders their mother-wit so pleasant and spicy. The scenes where
+many of these displays took place, varied according to the occurrence
+of those usual incidents which diversify country life. Sometimes old
+Denis's hearth was selected; at others, a neighboring wakehouse, and
+not unfrequently the chapel-green, where, surrounded by a crowd of eager
+listeners, the young priest and his Latin would succeed in throwing the
+hedge-schoolmaster and his problems completely into the shade.
+
+The father's pride, on these occasions, always prompted him to become
+the aggressor; but he only did this to draw out the talents of his son
+to more advantage. Never was man foiled with less regret than old Denis;
+nor did ever man more bitterly repent those little touches of vanity,
+which, sometimes induced him, when an opportunity of prostrating Denny
+arrived, to show what he could have done, by giving the son's argument
+an unexpected brainblow. These accidental defeats always brought the
+son! more than he lost by them; for the father usually made him a
+peace-offering in the shape of pocket-money, books, or clothes. The
+great amusement of the peasantry around the chapel-green of a Sunday,
+was to hear the father and son engaged in argument; and so simple was
+the character of both, that their acquaintances declared, they could
+know by the state of young Denis's coat, and the swaggering grasp with
+which old Denis held his staff, that an encounter was about to take
+place.
+
+“Young O'Shaughnessy's gettin' bare,” they would observe; “there'll be
+hard arguin' till he gets the clothes. He's puttin' in for a black coat
+now, he's so grave. Go on, Denny,” they would say again: “more power
+an' a dacenter sleeve to your elbow. Stick to him!--very good!--that's
+a clincher!--you're gone beyond the skirts, Denny!--let him pocket
+that larnin'. Dinis, you're bate, body and slaves! (* altogether;
+completely)--you're no match for the gorsoon, Dinis. Good agin,
+abouchal!--that's puttin' the collar on it!”--And so on, varying the
+phrase according to the whim of the moment.
+
+Nothing gave the father greater pleasure than these observations,
+although the affected earnestness with which he encountered the son, and
+his pretended indignation at those who affirmed him to have been beaten,
+were highly amusing to the bystanders.
+
+Such discussions were considered highly edifying and instructive by
+them, and they were sometimes at a loss whether to give the palm of
+ingenuity and eloquence to the father or Denny. The reader, however,
+must not suppose that the contemptuous expressions scattered over
+Denny's rhetorical flourishes; when discussing these points with his
+father, implied want of reverence or affection--far from it. On the
+contrary, the father always liked him the better for them, inasmuch as
+they proved Denny's vast superiority over himself. They were, therefore,
+only the licenses and embellishments of discussion, tolerated and
+encouraged by him to whom they were applied.
+
+Denny at length shot up to the stature of a young man, probably about
+eighteen; and during the two last years of his school studies he
+presented a considerable, if not a decidedly marked change in his
+character and external appearance. His pride became more haughty, and
+the consciousness of his learning, and of the influence annexed to
+the profession for which he was intended, put itself forth with
+less discussion, but more energy. His manners and attitude became
+constrained; the expression of his face began to darken, and to mould
+itself into a stiff, gloomy formality, that was strongly calculated
+to conceal the natural traits of his character. His dress, too, had
+undergone a great improvement; for instead of wearing shop blue or
+brown, he wore good black broad-cloth, had a watch in his fob, a
+respectable hat, and finer linen.
+
+This change, now necessary in consequence of his semiclerical character,
+influenced him through every relation of life. His nearest friends,
+whilst their pride in him increased, fell off to a more respectful
+distance; and his deportment, so far from being that of a good-humored
+Bobadil of polemics and pedantry upon all known and unknown subjects,
+became silent and solemn, chequered only during the moments of
+family conviviality by an excessive flow of that pleasant and still
+incomprehensible learning for the possession of which he had so honestly
+earned himself a character. Much of his pedantry was now lopped off, it
+is true, because the pride of his station prevented him from entering
+into discussions with the people. It cost him, however, some trouble to
+overcome his early tendencies; nor, after all, can it be affirmed that
+he altogether succeeded in eradicating them. Many a grave shrug, and
+solemn wink, and formal nod, had he to answer for, when his foot touched
+the debatable land of controversy. Though contrary to the keeping
+and dignity of his position in life, yet did honest Denny then get
+desperately significant, and his face amazingly argumentative. Many a
+pretender has he fairly annihilated by a single smile of contempt that
+contained more logic than a long argument from another man. In fact, the
+whole host of rhetorical figures seemed breaking out of his face. By
+a solitary glance of his eye he could look a man into a dilemma, and
+practise a _sorites_, or a homemade syllogism, by the various shiftings
+of his countenance, as clearly as if he had risen to the full flight
+of his former bombast. He had, in short, a _prima facie_ disposition to
+controversy; his nose was set upon his face in a kind of firm defiance
+against infidels, heretics, and excommunicated persons; and when
+it curled with contempt of another, or with pride in the power that
+slumbered in itself, it seemed to give the face from which it projected,
+and the world at large, the assurance of a controversialist. Nor did his
+negative talents rest here: a twist of his mouth to the right or left
+ear, was nicely shaded away into a negative or affirmative, according
+as he intended it should be taken; and when he used his
+pocket-handkerchief, he was certain, though without uttering a syllable,
+to silence his opponent, so contemptuously did his intonations rout the
+arguments brought against him. The significance and force of all these
+was heightened by the mystery in which they were wrapped; for whenever
+unbending decorum constrained him to decline the challenges of the
+ignorant, with whom discussion would now be degradation, what could he
+do to soothe his vanity, except, as the poet says, with folded arms
+and a shaking of the head to exclaim--“_Well, well we know;_ or, _if we
+could, and if we would;_ or, _if we list to speak_; or, _there be an if
+they might;_” which left the imaginations of his hearers at liberty
+to conceive more fully of those powers which his modesty declined
+exhibiting. For some time before he got absolutely and finally into
+black, even his father gave up his accustomed argument in despair. The
+son had become an adept in all the intricacies and obscurities of Latin,
+and literally overwhelmed the old man with small inundations of that
+language, which though, like all inundations, rather muddy, yet were
+they quite sufficient to sweep the worthy veteran before them.
+
+Young Denis O'Shaughnessy was now pretty nearly finished at school, that
+is to say, almost fit for Maynooth; his studies, though higher, were
+less assiduous; his leisure was consequently greater; and it is well
+known, that a person of his character is never asked to work, except it
+be his own pleasure to labor a day or two, by way of amusement. He might
+now be seen walking of a warm day along the shady sides of the hedges,
+with a book in his hand, or stretched listlessly upon the grass, at
+study; or sauntering about among the neighboring workmen, with his
+forefinger between the leaves of his book, a monument of learning and
+industry.
+
+It is not to be supposed, however, that Denis, who was an Irishman of
+eighteen, handsome and well made, could be altogether insensible
+to female beauty, and seductive charms of the sex. During his easy
+saunterings--or, as the Scotch say, “daunerings”--along the roads and
+about the green hedges, it often happened that he met a neighbor's
+daughter; and Denis, who, as a young gentleman of breeding, was bound to
+be courteous, could not do less than accost her with becoming urbanity.
+
+“Good-mornin', Miss Norah,” we will suppose him to say, when meeting a
+good-looking arch girl of his acquaintance.
+
+“Good-morrow, Mr. O'Shaughnessy. I hope you're well, sir.”
+
+“Indeed I am, at present, in superlatively ecclesiastical health, Miss
+Norah. I hope all your family are well?”
+
+“All very well, I thank you, sir, barrin' myself.”
+
+“An' pray what's the matther wid you, Miss Norah? I hope” (with an
+exceeding grave but complacent smile) “you're not affected wid the
+amorous passion of love?”
+
+“Oh, that 'ud be tellin', Mr. O'Shaughnessy! But supposin' I am, what
+ought I to do?”
+
+“That's really a profound question, Miss Norah. But though I cannot tell
+you what to do, I can tell you what I think.”
+
+“An' what is that, sir?”
+
+“Why, Miss Norah, that he who is so beatified as to secure you in the
+matrimonial paction--_compactum_ it is in the larned languages--in other
+words--to condescend to your capacity--he who is married to you will be
+a happy man. There is a juvenility about your eyes, and an efflorescence
+of amaranthine odoriferousness about your cheeks and breath that are
+enough to communicate the centrifugal motion to any brain adorned with
+the slightest modicum of sentiment.”
+
+“He who marries me will be a happy man!” she exclaimed, repeating these
+expressions, probably because they were the only words she understood.
+“I hope so, Misther O'Shaughnessy. But, sure enough, who'd expect to
+hear sich soft talk from the makins of a priest? Very well, sir! Upon
+my word I'll be tellin' Father Finnerty that you do be spakin' up to the
+girls!--Now!!”
+
+“No, no, Miss Norah; you wouldn't do that merely for my sayin' that
+you're the handsomest girl in the parish. Father Finnerty himself might
+say as much, for it would be nothing but veracity--nothing but truth,
+Miss Norah.”
+
+“Ah! but he wouldn't be pattin' me on the cheek! Be asy, Mr.
+O'Shaughnessy; there's Darby Brady lookin' at you, an' he'll be
+tellin'!”
+
+“Where?” said Denis, starting.
+
+The girl replied only by an arch laugh.
+
+“Upon my classicality, Miss Norah, you're a rogue; there's nobody
+lookin', you seraphim!”
+
+“Then there's a pair of us rogues, Misther Dinis.”
+
+“No, no, Miss Norah; I was only feeling your cheek as a philosophical
+experiment. Philosophers often do it, in order to make out an
+hypothesis.”
+
+“Misther Dinis, if I'm not marrid till you're a priest, won't you say
+the words for me for nothing?”
+
+“So long as you ask it wid such a brilliant smiled Miss Norah, do
+you think that any educated young man who has read about beauty an'
+sentimentality in books, could refuse you? But you know, Miss Norah,
+that the clergyman who marries a couple has always the right of kissing
+the bride. Now I wouldn't claim my right then; but it might be possible
+by a present compromise to--to----. What would you think, for instance,
+to give me that now?”
+
+“To give you what?”
+
+“Why the----indeed it's but a slight recompense, the--k---- the
+salutation--the kiss. You know what tasting the head means?”
+
+“Faix, Misther Dinis, you're a great rogue. Who'd think it indeed? Sure
+enough, they say smooth water runs deep! Why one 'ud suppose butther
+wouldn't melt in your mouth to look at you; an' yet you want to be
+toyin' wid the girls! Indeed an' faix, it's a great shame for the likes
+o' you, that's bint on Maynooth, to be thinkin' of coortin' at all. But
+wait! Upon my word, I'll have a fine story agin you, plase goodness!”
+
+This latter threat the mischievous girl threw out with a grave face, in
+order to bring Denis into a more ridiculous dilemma; for she saw clearly
+that he labored under a heavy struggle between timidity and gallantry.
+The ruse succeeded. Denis immediately changed his tone, and composed
+his face into a grave admonitory aspect, nearly equal to a homily on
+prudence and good conduct.
+
+“Miss Norah,” said he, “perhaps I acted wrong in carrying my trial
+of your disposition too far. It's a thing, however, which we who are
+intended for the church are ordered to do, that we may be able to
+make out what are called in this very book you see wid me, cases of
+conscience. But the task is now over, Miss Norah; and, in requital
+for your extrame good nature, I am bound to administer to you a slight
+lecture on decorum.
+
+“In the first place, attend your duties regularly. I will soon be
+goin' to Maynooth; an' as you are one of the girls for whom I have the
+greatest regard, I will expect on my return to hear a good account
+of you. It is possible that you'll be introduced in my absence to the
+honors of matrimony; but even so, I know that peace, an' taciturnity,
+an' submission will be your most signal qualifications. You will then be
+in a situation equal to that of a Roman matron. As for us, Miss Norah,
+we are subject to the dilapidations of occasional elevation.
+The ambrosia of sentiment lies in our path. We care not for the
+terrestrialities of life, when separated from the great principle of the
+poet--
+
+'_Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori_.'
+
+That's Hebrew, Miss Norah!”
+
+“They say you know a power of larnin', Misther Dinis.”
+
+“Yes, I know the seven languages; but what is all that compared to the
+cardinal virtues. This world is a mere bird of passage, Miss Norali; and
+it behooves us to be ever on the wing for futurity and premeditation.
+Now, will you remember the excellent moral advice I have given you?”
+
+“Indeed I will, sir,” replied the roguish minx, tripping away;
+“particularly that you promised to marry me for nothin' if I'd give you
+a kiss!”
+
+“Give up everything like levity, Miss Norah. Attend your du--”
+
+
+[Illustration: PAGE 985-- You're a fool, Misther O'Shaughnessy!]
+
+
+“You're a fool, Misther O'Shaughnessy! Why didn't you take the kiss, an'
+spare the king's English?”
+
+On making this observation she redoubled her pace, and left Denis now
+perfectly sensible that he was a proper subject for her mirth. He turned
+about, and called after her--
+
+“Had I known that you were only in jocosity, Miss Nora, upon my
+classicality, I'd have given you the k----.”
+
+He now perceived that she was beyond hearing, and that it was
+unnecessary to finish the sentence.
+
+These accidental meetings between Denis and the pretty daughters of the
+neighboring farmers were, somehow, very frequent. Our hero, however, was
+always extremely judicious in tempering his gallantry and moral advice
+to his young female acquaintances. In the beginning of the conversation
+he was sly and complimentary, afterwards he became more insinuating,
+then more direct in his praises of their beauty; but as his timidity on
+the point of character was known, the mischief-loving girls uniformly
+ended with a threat of exposing him to the priest, to his friends, or to
+the neighbors, as the whim directed them. This brought him back to his
+morality again; he immediately commenced an exhortation touching their
+religious duties, thus hoping to cover, by a trait more becoming
+his future destination, the little harmless badinage in which he had
+indulged.
+
+The girls themselves frequently made him the topic of conversation, a
+proof that he was not altogether indifferent to them. In these little
+conclaves he came very well off. Among them all it was admitted “that
+there was a rogue in his coat;” but this was by no means uttered in a
+tone of voice that betrayed any disrelish to him. On the contrary, they
+often said--and many of them with an involuntary sigh--that “he was too
+purty to be made a priest of;” others, that “it was a pity to make a
+priest of so fine a young man;” others, again, that “if he must be a
+priest, the colleens would be all flockin' to hear his sarmons.” There
+was one, however, among them who never mentioned him either in praise or
+censure; but the rapid changes of her expressive countenance gave
+strong indications to an observing eye that his name, person, and future
+prospects were capable of exciting a deep and intense interest in her
+heart.
+
+At length he began to appear on horseback; and as he had hitherto been
+in the habit of taking that exercise bare-backed, now he was resolved
+to get into a saddle, and ride like a gentleman. Henceforth he might be
+seen mounted upon one of his father's horses, quite erect, and with but
+one spur, which was, in fact, the only spur, except the whiskey bottle,
+that had been in the family for three generations. This was used, he
+declared, for no other purpose in life than that of “stimulating the
+animal to the true clerical trot.”
+
+From the moment he became a mounted man he assumed an air of less
+equivocal command in the family; and not only to his own relations was
+this authority manifested, but to his more distant acquaintances, and,
+in short, to the whole parish. The people now began to touch their hats
+to him, which act of respect he returned as much in imitation of the
+parish priest as possible. They also began to ask him what o'clock
+it was, and Denis, with a peculiar condescension, balanced still with
+becoming dignity, stopped, pulled out his watch, and told the hour,
+after which he held it for a few seconds to his ear with an experienced
+air, then put it in a dignified manner in his fob, touched the horse
+with the solitary spur, put himself more erect, and proceeded with--as
+he himself used to say, when condemning the pride of the curate--“all
+the lordliness of the parochial priest.”
+
+The notions which the peasantry entertain of a priest's learning are as
+extravagant as they are amusing, and such, indeed, as would be too
+much for the pedantic vanity inseparable from a half-educated man to
+disclaim. The people are sufficiently reasonable, however, to admit
+gradations in the extent of knowledge acquired by their pastors; but
+some of the figures and illustrations which they use in estimating their
+comparative merits are highly ludicrous. I remember a young man, who,
+at the age of twenty-two, set about preparing himself for the church. He
+lived in the bosom of a mountain, whose rugged breast he cultivated
+with a strength proportioned to the difficulty of subduing it. He was
+a powerful young fellow, quiet and inoffensive in his manners, and
+possessed of great natural talents. It was upon a Monday morning, in the
+month of June, that the school-room door opened a foot and a half wider
+than usual, and a huge, colossal figure stalked in, with a kind of
+bashful laugh upon his countenance, as if conscious of the disproportion
+betwixt his immense size and that of the other schoolboys. His figure,
+without a syllable of exaggeration, was precisely such as I am about to
+describe. His height six feet, his shoulders of an enormous breadth,
+his head red as fire; his body-coat made after the manner of his
+grandfather's--the skirts of it being near his heels--and the buttons
+behind little less than eighteen inches asunder. The pockets were cut
+so low, that when he stretched his arm to its full length, his fingers
+could not get further than the flaps; the breast of it was about nine
+inches longer than was necessary, so that when he buttoned it, he
+appeared all body. He wore no cravat, nor was his shirt-collar either
+pinned or buttoned, but lay open as if to disclose an immense neck and
+chest scorched by the sun into a rich and healthy scarlet. His chin was
+covered with a sole of red-dry bristles, that appeared to have been
+clipped about a fortnight before; and as he wore neither shoe
+nor stocking, he exhibited a pair of legs to which Rob Roy's were
+drumsticks. They gave proof of powerful strength, and the thick fell of
+bristly hair with which they were covered argued an amazing hardihood of
+constitution and tremendous physical energy.
+
+“Sure, Masther, I'm comin' to school to you!” were the first words he
+uttered.
+
+Now there ran beneath the master's solemnity of manner a broad but
+shallow under-current of humor, which agreed but poorly with his pompous
+display of learning. On this occasion his struggle to retain the grave
+and overcome the ludicrous was unavailing. The startling fact thus
+uncouthly announced by so grotesque a candidate for classical knowledge
+occasioned him to receive the intelligence with more mirth than was
+consistent with good breeding. His pupils, too, who were hitherto afraid
+to laugh aloud, on observing his countenance dilate into an expression
+of laughter which he could not conceal, made the roof of the house ring
+with their mirth.
+
+“Silence, gintlemen,” said he; “_legite, perlegite, et relegite_--study,
+gintlemen, study--pluck the tree of knowledge, I say, while the fruit is
+in season. Denny O'Shaughnessy, what are you facetious for? _Quid rides,
+Dionysi_ And so, Pether--is Pettier your pronomen--quo nomine gowdes?
+Silence, boys!--perhaps he was at Latin before, and we'll try him--_quo
+nomine gowdes, Pethre?_”
+
+A stare of awkward perplexity was the only reply he could get from the
+colossus he addressed.
+
+“And so you're fished up from the Streights (* Alluding to the Colossus
+of Rhodes) at last, Pether?”
+
+“Sir, my name's not Pether. My father's name is Paddy Doorish, but my
+own is Franky. I was born in Lisnagh; but we lived double as long as I
+can mind in the Mountain Bar.”
+
+“And, Franky, what put Latin into your head?”
+
+“There was no Latin put into my head; I'm comin' to you for that.”
+
+“And, you graceful sprig of juvenility, have you the conscience to think
+that I'd undhertake to fill what you carry on your showlders on the
+same terms that I'd take for replenishing the head of a rasonable youth?
+Would you be so unjust in all the principles of correct erudition as to
+expect that, my worthy Man-mountain?”
+
+“I don't expect it,” said Frank; “all that's in your head wouldn't fill
+the corner of mine, if you go accordin' to size; but I'll pay you for
+tachin' me as much as you know yourself, an' the more I larn the less
+pains you'll have wid me.”
+
+Franky, however, made an amazing progress--so very rapid, indeed, that
+in about three years from that day he found himself in Maynooth, and
+in three years more was an active curate, to whom that very teacher
+appeared as slavishly submissive as if he had never ridiculed his
+vulgarity or ungainly dimensions. Poor Frank, however, in consequence of
+the rapid progress he made, and of the very short interval which elapsed
+from the period of his commencing Latin until that of his ordination,
+was assigned by the people the lowest grade in learning. The term used
+to designate the rank which they supposed him to hold, was both humorous
+and expressive.
+
+“Franky,” they would say, “is no finished priest in the larnin'; he's
+but a _scowdher_.”
+
+Now a _scowdher_ is an oaten cake laid upon a pair of tongs placed over
+the greeshaugh, or embers, that are spread out for the purpose of baking
+it. In a few minutes the side first laid down is scorched: it is
+then turned, and the other side is also scorched; so that it has the
+appearance of being baked, though it is actually quite raw within. It is
+a homely, but an exceedingly apt illustration, when applied to such men
+as Frank.
+
+“Poor Frank,” they would observe, “is but a _scowdher_--the sign of the
+tongs--No. 11, is upon him; so that it is asy known he never was laid
+to the _muddha arran_,” *--that is to say, properly baked--or duly and
+thoroughly educated.
+
+* The _Muddha Arran_ is literally “the bread stick,” a term in
+opposition to the _scowdher_. It is a forked stick with three legs, that
+stands opposite the fire, and supports the cake, which is placed on the
+edge until it is gradually baked. The Scowdher is, for the most part,
+made in cases of hurry.
+
+Denis, however, to resume more directly the thread of our narrative, on
+finding himself mounted, took an inveterate prejudice against walking.
+There was something, he thought, far more dignified in riding than
+in pacing slowly upon the earth, like a common man who had not the
+justification of Latin and Greek for becoming an equestrian. Besides
+this accomplishment, there were also many other habits to be broken
+off, and more genteel ones to be adopted in their place. These were all
+suggested by his rising pride; and, in sooth, they smacked strongly of
+that adroitness with which the Irish priest, and every priest, contrives
+to accomplish the purpose of feeding well through the ostensible medium
+of a different motive.
+
+He accordingly took his father aside one morning, after he had eaten a
+more meagre breakfast that usual, and, after licking his lips, addressed
+him in these words:--
+
+“I think, father, that upon considerating the consequence to which I
+am now entitled, and the degree of respectability which, in my own
+person--_in propria persona_--I communicate to the vulgarians with whom
+I am connected--I call them vulgarians from no derogatory motive;
+but you will concede yourself, that they are ignorant of the larned
+languages, an' consequently, though dacent enough, still, in reference
+to Latin and Greek, but vulgarians. Well! _Quid multis?_--I say, that
+taking all these things into speculation, looking at them--_veluti in
+speculum_--it is neither dacent nor becoming that I should ate in the
+manner I have done, as vulgarly as themselves--that I should ate, I
+say, any longer, without knife and fork. Neither, I announce, shall I
+in future drink my milk any longer, as I have with all humility done
+hitherto, out of a noggin; nor continue to disrobe, my potatoes any
+longer without a becoming instrument. I must also have better viands
+to consume. You are not to be ininformed that I am in that situation of
+life, in which, from my education and other accomplishments, I must be
+estimated as duly qualified to ate beef and mutton instead of bacon,
+an' to have my _tay_ breakfast instead of stirabout, which, in
+polite society, is designated porridge. You know yourself, and must
+acknowledge, that I'm soon likely to confer distinction and preeminence
+upon the poor illiterate, but honest creatures, with whom I am
+associated in the bonds of blood-relationship. If I were a dunce, or a
+booby, or a leather head, the case might be different; but you yourself
+are well acquainted with my talents of logic and conthroversy; an' I
+have sound rasons and good authority, which I could quote, if necessary,
+for proving that nothing increases the weight of the brain, and
+accelerates to gravity and solidity more than good feeding. Pay
+attention, therefore, to my words, for I expect that they will be duly
+observed:--buy me a knife and fork; and when I get them, it's not to lay
+them past to rust, you consave. The beef and mutton must follow; and
+in future I'm resolved to have my _tay_ breakfast. There are geese,
+and turkeys, and pullets enough about the yard, and I am bent on
+accomplishing myself in the art of carving them. I'm not the man now
+to be placed among the other riff-raff' of the family over a basket of
+potatoes, wid a black clerical coat upon me, and a noggin of milk under
+my arm! I tell you the system must be changed: the schoolmaster is
+abroad, and I'll tolerate such vulgarity no longer. Now saddle the horse
+till I ride across the bog to Pether Rafferty's Station, where I'm to
+sarve mass; plase heaven, I'll soon be able to say one myself, and give
+you all a lift in spirituals--ehem!”
+
+“Throth, Dinny, I b'lieve you're right, avick; and----”
+
+“Vick me no longer, father--that's another thing I forgot. It's full
+time that I should be sirred; and if my own relations won't call me Sir
+instead of Dinny, it's hardly to be expected that strangers will do it.
+I wish to goodness you had never stigmatized me wid so vulgar an epithet
+as Dinny. The proper word is Dionysius; and, in future, I'll expect to
+be called Misther Dionysius.”
+
+“Sure, I or your mother needn't be sirrin' you, Dinny?”
+
+“I haven't made up my mind as to whether I'll demand that proof of
+my respectability from you and my mother, or not; but on this I'm
+immovable, that instead of Dinny, you must, as I said, designate me
+Dionysius.”
+
+“Well, well, avourneen, I suppose only it's right you wouldn't be axin'
+us; but I'm sure your poor mother will never be able to get her tongue
+about Dionnisis, it's so long and larned a word.”
+
+“It is a larned word, no doubt; but she must persevere until she's able
+to masther it. I wouldn't for three tenpennies that the priest would
+hear one of you call me Dinny; it would degradate me very much in his
+estimation. At all events, if my mother cannot manage the orthography of
+Dionysius, let it be Denis, or anything but that signature of vulgarity,
+Dinny. Now, father, you won't neglect to revale what I've ordered to the
+family?”
+
+“No, indeed, I will not, avick--I mane--Dionnisis, avourneen--I'll tell
+them everything as you ordhered; but as to Dionnisis, I'm cock sure that
+poor Mave will never be able to get her ould tongue about so newfangled
+a piece of larnin' as that is. Well, well, this knowledge bates the
+world!”
+
+When the horse was saddled, and Dionysius on his way with all due pomp
+to the Station, old Denis broke the matter to his wife.
+
+“Mave, achora,” said,he, “I have sthrange news to tell you: sure
+Dionnisis is goin' to make himself a gintleman.”
+
+“Sure what?”
+
+“Dionnisis, our son Dionnisis, is goin' to make himself a gintleman;
+he'll ate no longer widout a knife and fork.”
+
+“Saints about us!” exclaimed Mave, rising and looking with alarm into
+her husband's face--“saints about us, Denis, what is it ails you? Sure
+there would be nothin' wrong wid you about the head, Denis? or maybe
+it's a touch of a faver you've got, out riddling that corn bare-headed,
+yistherday? I remimber the time my Aunt Bridget tuck the scarlet faver,
+she begun to rave and spake foolish in the same way.”
+
+“Why, woman, if your Aunt Bridget had a faver made up of all the colors
+in the rainbow, I tell you I'm spakin' sinse! Our son Dionnisis proved
+himself a gintleman out in the garden wid me about an hour ago.”
+
+“I suppose so, Denis,” she replied, humoring' him, for she was still
+doubly convinced that he labored under some incipient malady, if not
+under actual insanity; “an' what son is this, Dinny? I've never heard of
+him before.”
+
+“Our son Denis, woman alive! You must know he's not to be called Dinny
+or Dinis any more, but Dionnisis; he's to begin atin' wid a knife an'
+fork to-morrow; we must get him beef and mutton, and a _tay_ breakfast.
+He say's it's not fair play in any one that's so deep read in the
+larnin' as he is, to ate like a vulgarian, or to peel his phaties wid
+his fingers, an' him knows so much Latin an' Greek; an' my sowl to
+happiness but he'll stick to the gintlemanly way of livin', so far as
+the beef, an' mutton, and tay is consamed.”
+
+“He will! An', Dinis O'Shaughnessy, who has a betther right to turn
+gintleman, nor the gorsoon that studied for that! Isn't it proud you
+ought to be that he has the spirit to think of sich things?”
+
+“I'll engage, Mave, on that point you'll find him spirited enough; for
+my part, I don't begrudge him what he wants; but I heard the people say,
+that no man's a gintleman who's not College-bred; and you know he's not
+that yet.”
+
+“You forget that he has gentle blood in his veins, Denis. There was a
+day when my family, the Magennises, held their heads up; and Kolumkill
+says that the same time is to come back agin to all the ould families.
+Who knows if it's altogether from himself he's takin' to the beef an'
+mutton, but from prophecy; he knows what he's about, I'll warrant him.
+For our part, it's not right for us to cross him in it; it's for the
+good of the church, no doubt, an' we might lose more by a blast upon the
+corn or the cattle, than he'd ate the other way. That's my dhrame out
+that I had last night about him. I thought we were all gother somewhere
+that I can't rightly remimber; but anyhow there was a great sight of
+people in it, an' high doin's goin' an in the atin' way. I looked
+about me, an' seen ever so many priests dressed all like the Protestant
+clargy; our Dinis was at the head of them, wid a three-cocked hat, an'
+a wig upon him; he was cuttin' up beef an' mutton at the rate of a
+weddin', an' dhrinkin' wine in metherfuls.”
+
+“'Musha, Dinis,' says myself, 'what's all this for?'
+
+“'Why,' says he, 'it's all for the good of the church an' the faithful.
+I'm now Archbishop of the county,' says he; 'the Protestants are all
+banished, an' we are in their place.'
+
+“The sorra one o' myself all this time but thought he was a priest
+still; so says I, 'Dinny, you're a wantin' to anoint Paddy Diarmud,
+who's given over, an' if you don't I make haste, you won't overtake
+him?'
+
+“'He must wait then till mornin',' says Dinny; 'or if he chooses to
+die against my will, an' the will o' the church, let him take the
+quensequences. Were wealthy now.'
+
+“I was so much frightened at the kind of voice that he spoke to me in,
+that I awoke; an' sure enough, the first thing I heard was the fizzin'
+o' bacon on the pan. I wondered! who could be up so early, an' puttin'
+my head through the door, there was Dinny busy at it, wid an ould knife
+in one hand, an' an iron skiver in the other imitatin' a fork.
+
+“'What are you doin' so early, Dinny?' says I.
+
+“'I'm practisin',' says he.
+
+“'What for?' says I.
+
+“'Oh, I'm practisin',' says he, back again, 'go to bed; I'm practisin'
+for the church, an' the Station that's to be in Pether Rafferty's
+to-day.'
+
+“Now, Dinny, between you an' me, that dhrame didn't come for nothin'. So
+give the gorsoon his way, an' if he chooses to be a gintleman, why let
+him; he'll be the more honor to thim that reared him.”
+
+“Thrue for you, indeed,--Mave; he always had a high spirit ever since
+he was intinded for the robes, and would have his own way and will in
+whatever he took into his head, right or wrong, as cleverly as if he had
+the authority for it.”
+
+“An' so he ought, seein' he wasn't to be slavin' at the spade, like the
+rest o' the family. The ways o' them that have great larnin' as he has,
+isn't like other people's ways--they must be humored, and have their own
+will, otherwise what 'ud they be betther than their neighbors?”
+
+The other arrangements laid down by Denis, touching his determination
+not to be addressed so familiarly by his brothers and sisters, were next
+discussed in this conversation, and, of course, the same prejudice in
+his favor was manifested by his indulgent parents. The whole code of his
+injunctions was subsequently disclosed to the family in all its extent
+and rigor. Some of them heard it with surprise, and other with that kind
+of dogged indignation evinced by those who are in some degree prepared
+for the nature of the communication about to be laid before them.
+Altogether, the circumstances in which it placed them were peculiar and
+embarrassing. The Irish peasant can seldom bear to have the tenderness
+of domestic affection tampered with, whether from pride, caprice, or
+any other motive not related to his prejudices. In this instance the
+strongest feelings of the O'Shaughnessys were brunted, as it were, in
+hostile array against each other; and although the moral force on each
+side was nearly equal, still the painful revulsion produced by Denis's
+pride, as undervaluing their affection, and substituting the cold forms
+of artificial life for the warmth of honest hearts like theirs, was, in
+the first burst of natural fervor, strongly, and somewhat indignantly
+expressed.
+
+Denis had been their pride, the privileged person among them--the
+individual whose talents were to throw lustre upon a nameless and
+unknown family; the future priest--the embryo preacher of eminence--the
+resistless controversialist--the holy father confessor--and, perhaps,
+for with that vivacity of imagination peculiar to the Irish, they could
+scarcely limit his exaltation--perhaps the bishop of a whole diocese.
+Had not the Lord Primate himself been the son of as humble a man? “And
+who knows,” said his youngest and fairest sister, who of all the family
+was most devoted to him, “but Dinny might yet be a primate?” And as she
+spoke, the tear of affection, pride, and enthusiasm glistened in her
+eye. Denis, therefore, had been much, even in his youth, to their simple
+hearts, and far more to their hopes and expectations, than he was in all
+the pride of his petty polemics; but when he, before whose merits, both
+real and imaginary, every heart among them bowed as before the shrine of
+a tutelar saint, turned round, ere the destined eminence he aimed at was
+half attained, and laid upon their fervent affection the icy chain of
+pride and worldly etiquette--the act was felt keenly and unexpectedly as
+the acute spasm of some sudden malady. The father and mother, however,
+both, defended him with great warmth; and by placing his motives in that
+point of view which agreed best with their children's prejudices, they
+eventually succeeded in reconciling his brothers and sisters in some
+degree to the necessity of adopting the phraseology he proposed--that
+they might treat him with suitable respect in the eye of the world.
+
+“It's proud of him we ought to be,” said his father, “and delighted that
+he has sich a risin' spirit; an' sure the more respect is paid to him
+the greater credit he will be to ourselves.”
+
+“But, sure he has no right,” said his eldest brother, “to be settin' up
+for a gentleman till he's priested. I'm willin' enough to sir him, only
+that it cuts me more than I'll say, to think that I must be callin' the
+boy that I'd spill the dhrop of my blood for, afther I the manner of a
+sthranger; and besides,” he added, “I'm not clear but the neighbors
+will be passin' remarks upon us, as they did when you and he used to be
+arguin'.”
+
+“I'd like to see them that 'ud turn it into a joke,” said his father;
+“I would let them know that Dinis O'Shaughnessy's dog is neither to be
+made or meddled wid in a disrespectful manner, let alone his son. We are
+not widout friends and connections that 'ud take our quarrel upon them
+in his defince, if there was a needcessity for it; but there will not,
+for didn't my heart lep the other day to my throat wid delight, when I
+saw Larry Neil put his hand to his hat to him, comin' up the Esker upon
+the mare; and may I never do an ill turn, if he didn't answer the bow to
+Larry, as if he was the priest of the parish already. It's the wondher
+of the world how he picks up a jinteel thing any how, an' ever did,
+since he was the hoith o' that.”
+
+“Why,” said the mother, “what a norration yez rise about thratin' the
+boy as every one like him ought to be thrated. Wait till ye see him a
+parish priest, and then yell be comin' round him to get your daughters
+to keep house for him, and your sons edicated and made priests of; but
+now that the child takes a ginteel relish for beef and mutton, and wants
+to be respected, ye are mane an' low spirited enough to grumble about
+it.”
+
+“No mother,” said his youngest sister, bursting into tears, “I'd beg it
+for him, sooner nor he should want; but I can't bear to be callin' my
+brother Dinny--sir--like a stranger. It looks as if I didn't love him,
+or as if he was forgettin' us, or carin' less about us nor he used to
+do.”
+
+This, in fact, was the root and ground of the opposition which Denis's
+plan received at the hands of his relations; it repressed the cordial
+and affectionate intercourse which had hitherto subsisted between them;
+but the pride of life, and, what is more, the pride of an office which
+ought always to be associated with humility, had got into his heart; the
+vanity of learning, too, thin and shallow though it was, inflated him;
+and the effect of both was a gradual induration of feeling--an habitual
+sense of his own importance, and a notion of supreme contempt for all
+who were more ignorant than himself.
+
+After the first impression of pain and mortification had passed away
+from the minds of his brothers and sisters, it was, however, unanimously
+admitted that he was right; and ere long, no other feeling than one of
+good-humor, mingled with drollery, could be perceived among them. They
+were clearly convinced, that he claimed no more from strangers than was
+due to him; but they certainly were not prepared to hear that he had
+brought the exactions of personal respect so completely and unexpectedly
+home to themselves as he had done. The thing, too, along with being
+unreasonable, was awkward and embarrassing in the extreme; for there is
+a kind of feeling among brothers and sisters, which, though it cannot
+be described, is very trying to their delicacy and shamefacedness under
+circumstances of a similar nature. In humble life you will see a
+married woman who cannot call her husband after his Christian name; or
+a husband, who, from some extraordinary restraint, cannot address his
+wife, except in that distant manner which the principle I allude to
+dictates, and habit confirms.
+
+Denis, however, had overcome this modesty, and felt not a whit too
+shamefaced to arrogate to his own learning and character the most
+unhesitating manifestation of their deference and respect, and they soon
+scrupled not to pay it.
+
+The night of that evening was pretty far advanced, when a neighbor's
+son, named Condy Callaghan, came to inform the family, that Denis, when
+crossing the bog on his way home, had rode into a swamp, from which he
+found much difficulty in extricating himself, but added, “the mare is
+sunk to the saddle-skirts, and cannot get out widout men and ropes,”
+ In a short time a sufficient number of the neighbors were summoned
+together, and proceeded to the animal's relief. Denny's importance, as
+well as his black dress, was miserably tarnished; he stood, however,
+with as dignified an air as possible, and, in a bombastic style,
+proceeded to direct the men as to the best manner of relieving her.
+
+“Asy, Dinny,” said his brother, with a good-humored but significant
+smile--“larning may be very good in its place; in the mane time, lave
+the business in our hands rather than in your own head--or if you have
+e'er a scrap of Greek or Latin that 'ud charm ould Sobersides out, where
+was the use of sendin' for help?”
+
+“I say,” replied Dennis, highly offended, “I'll not tolerate vulgarity
+any longer; you must larn to address me in a more polite style. If the
+animal--that purblind quadruped--walked into the mire, by what logic
+can you produce an association between her blindness and my knowledge of
+Latin and Greek? But why do I degradate my own consequence by declaiming
+to you an eulogium upon logic? It's only throwing pearls before swine.”
+
+“I didn't mane to offind you,” replied the warm-hearted brother; “I
+meant you no offince in what I said, so don't take it ill--we'll have
+Sobersides out in no time--and barrin' an extra rubbin' down to both of
+you, neither will be the worse, I hope.”
+
+“As to what you hope or despair, Brian, it could produce no other
+impression on the subtility of my fancy than pity for the man who could
+compare me--considering the brilliancy of my career, and the extent of
+my future speculations--to a quadruped like Sobersides, by asserting
+that I, as well as she, ought to be rubbed down! And were it not that I
+confront the offince with your own ignorance, I would expose you before
+the townland in which we stand; ay, to the whole parish--but I spare
+you, out of respect to my own consequence.”
+
+“I ax your pardon,” said the brother, “I won't offind you in the same
+way again. What I said, I said to you as I thought a brother might--I ax
+your pardon!”
+
+There was a slight agitation approaching to a tremor in his brother's
+voice, that betokened sorrow for his own impropriety in too familiarly
+addressing Denis, and perhaps regret that so slight and inoffensive a
+jest should have been so harshly received in the presence of strangers,
+by a brother who in reality had been his idol. He reflected upon the
+conversation held on that morning in the family, touching Denny's
+prerogative in claiming a new and more deferential deportment from them
+all; and he could not help feeling that there was in it a violation of
+some natural principle long sacred to his heart. But the all-prevading
+and indefinite awe felt for that sacerdotal character into which his
+brother was about to enter, subdued all, and reconciled him to those
+inroads upon violated Nature, despite her own voice, loudly expressed as
+it was in his bosom.
+
+When the family was once more assembled that night, Denis addressed them
+in a tone, which implied that the _odium theologicum_ had not prevented
+the contrition expressed by his brother from altogether effacing from
+his mind the traces of his offence.
+
+“Unworthy of respect,” he proceeded, “as it appears by some of my
+relations I am held,” and he glanced at his brother, “yet I beg
+permission to state, that our worthy parochial priest, or I should
+rather say, the Catholic Rector of this parish, is of a somewhat
+different habit of thought or contemplation. I dined with him
+to-day--ehem--dined with him upon an excellent joint of mutton--I say,
+father--the mutton was good--and with his proud, pertinacious curate,
+whom I do not at all relish; whether, as Homer says--I enumerate his
+scurrilous satire, or his derogatory insinuations. His parochial pastor
+and spiritual superior is a gentleman, or, as Horace says, _homo factus
+ad unguem_--which is paraphrastically--every inch a gentleman--or more
+literally, a gentleman to the tops of his fingers--ehem--hem--down to
+the very nails--as it were.
+
+“Well--having discussed that--_observatis observandis, quoad
+sacerdolem_--having passed my eulogium upon Father Finnerty--upon my
+word and credit though, punch is _prima facie_ drink--and father, that
+brings me to remember an omission which I committed in my dialogue with
+you this morning. I forgot to say, that after my dinner, in the manner I
+expounded to you, it will be necessary to have a tumbler of punch--for,
+as Father Finnerty says, there is nothing which so effectually promotes
+the organs of digestion. Now, my introduction of this, in the middle
+of my narrative, is what the hypercritics call a Parenthesis, which
+certainly betrays no superficial portion of literary perusal on my part,
+if you could at all but understand it as well as Father Finnerty, our
+Worthy parochial incumbent, does. As for the curate, should I ever come
+to authority in the Irish hierarchy, I shall be strongly disposed to
+discountenance him; if it were only for his general superciliousness of
+conduct. So there's another clause disposed of.
+
+“Well--to proceed--I say I have intelligence regarding myself, that will
+be by no means unsavory to you all. Father Finnerty and I had, about
+an hour before dinner this day, a long and tedious conversation, the
+substance of which was my future celebrity in the church. He has a claim
+on the Bishop, which he stated to me will be exercised in my favor,
+although there are several candidates for it in this parish, not one of
+whom, however, is within forty-five degree's of being so well qualified
+for college as myself. Father, is there not a jar--an _amphora_--as that
+celebrated satirist Juvenile has it--an _amphora_--in the chimly-brace,
+filled with liquor--get it, and let us _inter animosity_--I'll not be
+long a member of the domestic circle with you--so, upon the basis of the
+communication I have to make, let us, as I said, be--become sextons to
+animosity and care. 'Dionysius,' said Father Finnerty, addressing me,
+which shows, at all events, that I am not so unimportant as some of my
+friends would suppose--'Dionysius,' said he '_inter nos_--between
+you and me, I believe I have it in my power to send up a candidate to
+Maynooth. 'Tis true, I never make a promise--_nunquam facio votum_,
+except in certain cases, or, in other words, Dionysius, _exceptis
+excipiendis_--in which is the essence, as it were, of a proper vow.' In
+the meantime he proceeded--'With regard to your prospects in the church,
+I can only say, in the first place, and I say it with much truth and
+sincerity--that I'm badly off for a horse; that, however, is, as I said,
+_inter nos--sub sigillo_. The old garran I have is fairly worn out--and,
+not that I say it, your father has as pretty a colt as there is within
+the bounds--_intra terminos parochii mei_, within the two ends of my
+parish: _verbum sat_--which is, I'm sure you're a sensible and discreet
+young man. Your father, Dionysius, is a parishioner whom I regard and
+esteem to the highest degree of comparison, and you will be pleased to
+report my eulogium to himself and to his dacent family--and proud may
+they be of having so brilliant a youth among them as you are--ehem!'
+
+“Now, you may all think that this was plain conversation; but I had read
+too much for that. In fact, it was logic--complate, convincing logic,
+every word of it. So I responded to him in what is called in the books,
+the _argumentum ad crumenam_; although I question but it ought to be
+designated here the _argumentum ad bestiam_. Said I, 'Father Finnerty,
+the colt, my paternal property, which you are pleased to eulogize so
+highly, is a good one; it was designed for myself when I should come
+out on the mission; however, I will undertake to say, if you get me
+into Maynooth, that my father, on my authority, will lend you the colt
+tomorrow, and the day of his claiming it will be dependent upon the
+fulfilment of your promise or _votum_.'
+
+“'_Signatum et sigttlatum est_,' said he--for, indeed, the best part
+of the discussion was conducted in Latin; 'and now,' he continued, 'my
+excellent Dionysius, nothing remains but that the colt be presented--'
+
+--“'Lent,' I responded, correcting him, 'you see, even although he was
+the priest--'lent,' said I; 'and your Reverence will be good enough to
+give the _votum_ before one or two of my friends.'
+
+“He looked at me sharply, not expecting to find such deep logic in one
+he conjectured to be but a tyro.
+
+“'You will be a useful man in the church,' he added, 'and you deserve to
+be pushed on at all events. In the meantime, tell your father that I'll
+ride up and breakfast with him to-morrow, and he can have a friend or
+two to talk over the _compactum_.'
+
+“So, father, there's the state of the question at present; the
+accomplishment of the condition is dependent upon yourself.”
+
+My readers may perceive that Denis, although a pedant, was not a fool.
+It has been said that no man is a hero to his _valet-de-chambre_; but
+I think the truth of the sentiment contained in that saying is
+questionable. Denis, on the contrary, was nowhere so great a man as in
+his own chimney-corner, surrounded by his family. It was there he was
+learned, accomplished, profound; next to that, he was great among those
+who, although not prejudiced in his favor by the bonds of affection,
+were too ignorant to discover those literary pranks which he played off,
+because he knew he could do so without detection. The basis, however, of
+his character was shrewd humor and good sense; and even at the stage of
+life which we have just described, it might have been evident to a close
+observer that, when a proper knowledge of his own powers, joined to a
+further acquaintance with the world, should enable him to cast off the
+boyish assumption of pedantry, a man of a keen, ready intellect and
+considerable penetration would remain.
+
+Many of my readers may be inclined to exclaim that the character of
+Denny is not to be found in real life; but they are mistaken who think
+so. They are not to suppose that Denis O'Shaughnessy was the same person
+in his intercourse with intelligent men and scholars, that he appeared
+among the illiterate peasantry, or his own relations. Far from it. With
+the former, persons like him are awkward and bashful, or modest and
+unassuming, according to the bent of their natural disposition. With
+scholars Denis made few pretensions to superior knowledge; but, on the
+contrary, took refuge, if he dreaded a scrutiny into his acquirements,
+in the humblest acknowledgment of his limited reading, and total
+unacquaintance with those very topics on which he was, under other
+circumstances, in the habit of expatiating so fluently. In fact, were
+I to detail some of the scenes of his exhibitions as they were actually
+displayed, then I have no doubt I might be charged with coloring too
+highly.
+
+When Denis had finished the oration from the chimney-corner, delivered
+with suitable gesticulations while he stood drying himself at the fire
+after the catastrophe of the swamp, a silence of some minutes followed.
+The promise of the colt made to the priest with such an air of
+authority, was a finale which the father did not expect, and by which he
+was not a little staggered.
+
+“I could like it all very well,” replied the father, “save an' except
+givin' away the coult that's worth five-an'-twenty guineas, if he's
+worth a _'crona-bawn_. To tell the blessed thruth, Dinis, if you had
+settled the business widout _that_, I'd be betther plased.”
+
+“Just exercise your contemplation upon it for a short period,” replied
+Denis, “and you will perceive that I stipulated to lend him before
+witnesses; and if Father Finnerty does not matriculate me into Maynooth,
+then do you walk down some brilliant morning or other, and take your
+baste by the head, direct yourself home, hold the bridle as you proceed,
+and by the time you're at the rack, you'll find the horse at the manger.
+I have now stated the legality of the matter, and you may act as your
+own subtility of perception shall dictate. I have laid down the law, do
+you consider the equity.”
+
+“Why,” said the father, “if I thought he would get you into”--
+
+“Correct, quite correct: the cardinal point there is the if. If he
+does, give him the horse; but if not, reclaim the quadruped without
+hesitation. I am not to be kept back, if profundity and erudition can
+substantiate a prospect. Still, father, the easiest way is the safest,
+and the shortest the most expeditious.”
+
+The embarrassing situation in which the other members of the family
+were placed, imposed upon them a profound silence, in reference to
+the subject of conversation. Yet, while Denny delivered the aforesaid
+harangue from the chimney-corner, every eye was fixed upon him with an
+expression of pride and admiration which escaped not his own notice.
+Their deportment towards him was affectionate and respectful; but none
+of them could so far or so easily violate old habits as to address him
+according to his own wishes; they therefore avoided addressing him at
+all.
+
+The next morning Father Finnerty paid them his purposed visit, and,
+as he had promised, arrived in time for breakfast. A few of Denis's
+relations were assembled, and in their presence the arrangements
+respecting the colt and Denny's clerical prospects were privately
+concluded. So far everything was tight; the time of Denny's departure
+for Maynooth was to be determined by the answer which Father Finnerty
+should receive from the bishop; for an examination must, of course,
+take place, which was to be conducted by the prelate, or by some other
+clergyman appointed for that purpose. This and the necessary preparation
+usual on such occasions, were the only impediments in the way of his
+departure for Maynooth, a place associated with so many dreams of that
+lowly ambition which the humble circumstances of the peasantry permit
+them to entertain.
+
+The Irish people, I need scarcely observe, are a poor people; they are,
+also, very probably, for the same reason, an imaginative people; at all
+events, they are excited by occurrences which would not produce the same
+vivacity of emotion which they experience upon any other people in the
+world. This, after all, is but natural; a long endurance of hunger
+will render the coarsest food delicious; and, on the contrary, when the
+appetite is glutted with the richest viands, it requires a dish whose
+flavor is proportionably high and spicy to touch the jaded palate. It
+is so with our moral enjoyments. In Ireland, a very simple accession to
+their hopes or comforts produces an extraordinary elevation of mind,
+and so completely unlocks the sluices of their feelings, that every
+consideration is lost in the elation of the moment. At least it was so
+in Denis O'Shaughnessy's family upon this occasion.
+
+No sooner had Father Finnerty received the colt, and pledged himself
+that Denny should have the place at Maynooth that was then vacant, than
+a tumultuous expression of delight burst from his family and relations,
+business was then thrown aside for the day; the house was scoured and
+set in order, as if it were for a festival; their best apparel was
+put on; every eye was bright, every heart throbbed with a delightful
+impulse, whilst kindness and hilarity beamed from their faces. In
+a short time they all separated themselves among their neighbors to
+communicate the agreeable tidings; and the latter, with an honest
+participation in their happiness, instantly laid aside their avocations,
+and flocked to Denis O'Shaughnessy's, that they might congratulate him
+and his friends upon what was considered the completion of their hopes.
+When the day was more advanced, several of Denny's brothers and sisters
+returned, and the house was nearly filled with their acquaintances and
+relations. Ere one o'clock had passed they wore all assembled, except
+old Denis, of whom, no person could give any intelligence. Talk, loud
+laughter, pure poteen, and good-humor, all circulated freely? the
+friendly neighbor unshaved, and with his Sunday coat thrown hastily over
+his work-day apparel, drank to Denny's health, and wished that he might
+“bate all Maynewth out of the face; an' sure there's no doubt of
+that, any how--doesn't myself remimber him puttin' the explanations to
+Pasthorini before he was the bulk o' my fist?” His brothers and sisters
+now adopted with enthusiasm the terms of respect which he had prescribed
+for them through his father; he was Sirred and Misthered, and all but
+Reverenced, with a glow of affectionate triumph which they strove not
+to conceal. He was also overwhelmed with compliments of all hues
+and complexions: one reminded him of the victory he obtained over a
+hedge-schoolmaster who came one Sunday a distance of fifteen miles to
+sack him in English Grammar on the chapel-green; but as the man was no
+classical scholar, “Sure,” observed his neighbor, “I remember well that
+he couldn't get a word out of Misther Denis's head there but Latin; so
+that the poor crathur, afther travellin' fifteen long miles, had to go
+home agin, the show o' the world, widout undherstandin' a sintence
+of the larnin' that was put an him; an' so here's wishin' you health,
+Misther Dinis, agra, an' no fear in life but you'll be the jewel at the
+prachin,' sir, plase Goodness!”
+
+Another reminded him of “how often he proved Phaidrick Murray to be an
+ass, and showed him how he couldn't make out the differ atween black an'
+white.”
+
+“Sure, an' he did,” said Phadrick, scratching his head, for he was
+one of the first at the house; “an' no wondher, wid his long-headed
+screwtations from the books. Throth, his own father was the best match,
+barrin' Father Lawdher that was broke of his bread, he ever met wid,
+till he got too many for him by the Latin an' Greek.”
+
+This allusion to old Denis occasioned his absence to be noticed.
+
+“Can nobody tell where Denis More is?” said the wife; “my gracious, but
+it's quare he should be from about the place this day, any way. Brian,
+mavourneen, did you see him goin' any where?
+
+“No,” said Brian, “but I see him comin' down there carryin' some
+aitables in a basket.”
+
+Brian had scarcely ended when his father entered, bearing beef and
+mutton, as aforesaid, both of which he deposited upon the kitchen table,
+with a jerk of generosity and pride, that seemed to say, as he looked
+significantly at Denny--and, in fact, as he did say afterwards--“Never
+spare, Dinny; ate like a gintleman; make yourself as bright an' ginteel
+as you can; you won't want for beef an' mutton!”
+
+Old Denis now sat down, and, after wiping the perspiration from his
+forehead, took the glass of poteen which the wife handed him: he held it
+between his finger and thumb for a moment, glanced around him upon the
+happy faces present, then laid it down again, fixed his eyes upon his
+son, and cast them once more upon the company. The affectionate father's
+heart was full; his breast heaved, and the large tears rolled slowly
+down his cheeks. By a strong effort, however, he mastered his emotion;
+and taking the glass again, he said in broken voice:--
+
+“Neighbors!--God bless yez!--God bless yez!--Dinny--Dinny--I”--
+
+The last words he pronounced with difficulty; and drinking off his
+glass, set it down empty upon the table. He then rose up, and shook his
+neighbors by the hand--
+
+“I am,” said he, “a happy man, no doubt of it, an' we're all happy; an'
+it's proud any father might be to hear the account of his son, that I
+did of mine, as I was convoyin' Father Finnerty a piece o' the way home.
+'Your son,' says he, when he took that bit of a coult out o' my hand,
+'will be an honor to you all. I tell you,' says he, 'that he's nearly as
+good a scholar, as myself, an' spakes Latin not far behind my own; an'
+as for a pracher,' says he, 'I can tell you that he'll be hard farther
+nor any man I know.' He tould me them words wid his own two lips. An'
+surely, neighbors,” said he, relapsing into strong feeling, “you can't
+blame me for bein' both proud and happy of sich a son.”
+
+My readers, from the knowledge already given them of Denny's character,
+are probably disposed to think that his learning was thrown out on this
+occasion in longer words and more copious quotations than usual. This,
+however, was not the case; so far from that, he never displayed less
+pedantry, nor interspersed his conversation with fewer scraps of Latin.
+In fact, the proceedings of the day appeared to affect him with a tone
+of thought, decidedly at variance with the exuberance of joy experienced
+by the family. He was silent, moody, and evidently drawn by some secret
+reflection from the scene around him. He held a book in his hand, into
+which he looked from time to time, with the air of a man who balances
+some contingency in his mind. At length, when the conversation of
+those who were assembled became more loud and boisterous, he watched
+an opportunity of gliding out unperceived; having accomplished this, he
+looked cautiously about him, and finding himself not observed, he turned
+his steps to a glen which lay about half a mile below his father's
+house.
+
+At the lowest skirt of this little valley, protected, by a few spreading
+hawthorns, stood a small white farm-house, more immediately shaded by a
+close row of elder or boor-tree, which hung over one of the gables,
+and covered the garden gate, together with a neat grassy seat, that
+was built between the gate, and the gable. It was impervious to sun
+and rain: one of those pretty spots which present themselves on the
+road-side in the country, and strike the eye with a pleasing notion of
+comfort; especially when, during a summer shower, the cocks and hens of
+the little yard are seen by the traveller who takes shelter under it,
+huddled up in silence, the white dust quite dry, whilst the heavy shower
+patters upon the leaves above, and upon the dark drenched road beside
+him.
+
+Under the shade of this sat an interesting girl, aged about seventeen,
+named Susan Connor. She was slender, and not above the middle size;
+but certainly, in point of form and feature, such as might be called
+beautiful--handsome she unquestionably was; but be that as it may, with
+this rustic beauty the object of Denis's stolen visit was connected. She
+sat knitting under the shade of elder which we have described, a sweet
+picture of innocence and candor. Our hero's face, as he approached her,
+was certainly a fine study for any one who wished to embody the sad and
+the ludicrous. Desperate was the conflict between pedantry and feeling
+which he experienced. His manner appeared more pompous and affected than
+ever; yet was there blended with the flush of approaching triumph as
+a candidate, such woe-begone shades of distress flitting occasionally
+across his feature, as rendered his countenance inscrutably enigmatical.
+
+When the usual interchange of preliminary conversation had passed,
+Denis took his seat beside her on the grassy bench; and after looking
+in several directions, and giving half a dozen hems, he thus accosted
+her:--
+
+“Susan, cream of my affections, I may venture to conjecture that the
+fact, or _factum_, of my being the subject of _fama clamosa_ today, has
+not yet reached your ears?”
+
+“Now, Denis, you are at your deep larning from the books again. Can't
+you keep your reading for them that undherstands it, an' not be spakin'
+so Englified to a simple girl like me?”
+
+“There is logic in that same, however. Do you know, Susan, I have often
+thought that, provided always you had resaved proper instruction, you
+would have made a first-rate classical scholar.”
+
+“So you tould me, Denis, the Sunday we exchanged the promise. But sure
+when you get me, I can larn it. Won't you tache me, Denis?”
+
+She turned her laughing eyes archly at him as she spoke, with a look of
+joy and affection: it was a look, indeed, that staggered for the moment
+every ecclesiastical resolution within him. He returned her glance, and
+ran over the features of her pure and beautiful countenance for some
+minutes; then, placing his open hand upon his eyes, he seemed buried in
+reflection. At length he addressed her:--
+
+“Susan, I am thinking of that same Sunday evening on which we exchanged
+the hand-promise. I say, Susan,--_dimidium animae meae_--I am in the
+act of meditating upon it; and sorry am I to be compel--to be under the
+neces--to be reduced, I say--that is redact as in the larned langua--:
+in other words--or terms, indeed, is more elegant--in other terms,
+then, Susan, I fear that what I just now alluded to, touching the _fama
+clamosa_ which is current about me this day, will render that promise a
+rather premature one on both our parts. Some bachelors in my situation
+might be disposed to call it foolish, but I entertain a reverence--a
+veneration for the feelings of the feminine sex, that inclines me to use
+the mildest and most classical language in divulging the change that has
+taken place in my fortunes since I saw you last.”
+
+“What do you mane, Denis?” inquired Susan, suddenly ceasing to knit, and
+fixing her eyes upon him with a glance of alarm.
+
+“To be plain, Susy, I find that Maynooth is my destination. It has been
+arranged between my father and Docthor Finnerty, that I must become
+a laborer in the vineyard; that is, that I must become a priest, and
+cultivate the grape. It's a sore revelation to make to an amorous
+maiden; but destiny will be triumphant:--
+
+_Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis_.”
+
+The poor girl suddenly laid down the work on which she had been engaged,
+her face became the color of ashes, and the reply she was about to make
+died upon her lips. She again resumed her stocking, but almost instantly
+laid it down a second time, and appeared wholly unable either to believe
+or comprehend what he said.
+
+“Denis,” she at length asked, “Did you say that all is to be over
+between us?”
+
+“That was my insinuation,” replied Denis, “The fact is, Susy, that
+destiny is adverse; clean against our union in the bonds of matrimonial
+ecstacy. But, Susy, my charmer, I told you before that you were not
+destitute of logic, and I hope you will bear this heavy visitation as
+becomes a philosopher.”
+
+“Bear it, Denis! How ought I to bear it, after your saying and swearing,
+too, that neither father, nor mother, nor priest, nor anybody else would
+make you desart me?”
+
+“But, Susan, my nightingale, perhaps you are not aware that there is
+an authority in existence to which father, mother, and all must knuckle
+down. That is the church, Susan. Reflect--_dulce decus meum_--that the
+power of the church is able to loose and unloose, to tie and untie, to
+forgive and to punish, to raise to the highest heaven, or to sink to
+the profoundest Tartarus. That power, Susan, thinks proper to claim your
+unworthy and enamored swain as one of the brightest Colossuses of
+her future glory. The Irish hierarchy is plased to look upon me as a
+luminary of almost superhuman brilliancy and coruscation: my talents
+she pronounces to be of the first magnitude; my eloquence classical and
+overwhelming, and my learning only adorned by that poor insignificant
+attribute denominated by philosophers unfathomability!--hem!--hem!”
+
+“Denis,” replied the innocent girl, “you sometimes speak that I can
+undherstand you; but you oftener spake in a way that I can hardly make
+out what you say. If it's a thing that my love for you, or the solemn
+promise that passed between us, would stand in your light, or prevint
+you from higher things as a priest, I am willing to--to--to give you
+up, whatever I may suffer. But you know yourself, that you brought me on
+from time to time undher your promise, that nothing would ever lead
+you to lave me in sorrow an' disappointment. Still, I say, that--But,
+Denis, is it thrue that you could lave me for anything?”
+
+The innocent confidence in his truth expressed by the simplicity of her
+last question, staggered the young candidate; that is to say, her words,
+her innocence, and her affection sank deeply into his heart.
+
+“Susan,” he replied, “to tell the blessed truth, I am fairly dilemma'd.
+My heart is in your favor; but--but--hem--you don't know the prospect
+that is open to me. You don't know the sin of keeping back such
+a--a--a--galaxy as I am from the church. I say you don't know the sin of
+it. That's the difficulty. If it was a common case it would be nothing!
+but to keep back a person like me--a _rara avis in terris_--from the
+priesthood, is a sin that requires a great dale of interest with the
+Pope to have absolved.”
+
+“Heaven above forgive me!” exclaimed the artless girl. “In that case I
+wouldn't for the riches of the wide earth stand between you and. God.
+But I didn't know that before, Denis; and if you had tould me, I think,
+sooner than get into sich a sin I'd struggle to keep down my love for
+you, even although my heart should break.”
+
+“Poor darling,” said Denis, taking her passive hand in his, “and would
+it go so hard with you? Break your heart! Do you love me so well as
+that, Susan?”
+
+Susan's eyes turned on him for a moment, and the tears which his
+question drew forth gave it a full and a touching reply. She uttered
+not a word, but after a few deep sobs wiped her eyes, and endeavored to
+compose her feelings.
+
+Denis felt the influence of her emotions; he remained silent for a short
+time, during which, however, ambition drew in the background all those
+dimly splendid visions that associate themselves with the sacerdotal
+functions, in a country where the people place no bounds to the
+spiritual power of their pastors.
+
+“Susan,” said he, after a pause, “do you know the difference between a
+Christian and a hathen?”
+
+“Between a Christian an' a hathen? Why aren't hathens all sinners?”
+
+“Very right. Faith, Susan, you would have shone at the classics. You see
+_dilecta cordis mei,_ or, _cordi meo,_ for either is good grammar--you
+see, Susan, the difference between a Christian and a hathen is this:--
+a Christian bears disappointments, with fortitude--with what is
+denominated Christian fortitude; whereas, on the contrary, a hathen
+doesn't bear disappointments at all. Now, Susan, it would cut me to the
+heart to find that you would become a hathen on this touching and trying
+occasion.”
+
+“I'll pray to God, Denis. Isn't that the way to act under afflictions?”
+
+“Decidedly. There is no other legitimate mode of quelling a heart-ache.
+And, Susan, when you go to supplication you are at liberty to mention my
+name--no, not yet; but if I were once consecrated you might. However, it
+is better to sink this; say nothing about me when you pray, for, to
+tell you I truth, I believe you have as much influence above--_super
+astra_--as I have. There is one argument which I am anxious to press
+upon you. It is a very simple but a very respectable one after all. I
+am not all Ireland. You will find excellent good husbands even in this
+parish. There is, as the old proverb says, as good fish in the say as
+ever were caught. Do you catch one of them. For me, Susan, the
+vineyard claims me; I must, as I said, cultivate the grape. We must,
+consequently--hem!--we must--hem!--hem!--consequently strive to
+forget--hem!--I say, to forget each other. It is a trial--I know--a
+desperte visitation, poor fawn, upon your feelings; but, as I said,
+destiny will be triumphant. What is decreed, is decreed--I must go to
+Maynooth.”
+
+Susan rose, and her eyes flashed with an indignant sense of the
+cold-blooded manner in which he advised her to select another husband.
+She was an illiterate girl, but the purity of her feeling supplied the
+delicacy which reading and a knowledge of more refined society would
+have given her.
+
+“Is it from your lips, Denis,” she said, “that I hear sich a mane and
+low-minded an advice? Or do you think that with my weak, and I now see,
+foolish heart, settled upon you, I could turn round and fix my love upon
+the first that might ax me? Denis, you promised before God to be mine,
+and mine only; you often said and swore that you loved me above any
+human being; but I now see that you only intended to lead me into sin
+and disgrace, for indeed, and before God I don't think--I don't--I
+don't--believe that you ever loved me.”
+
+A burst of grief, mingled with indignation and affliction, followed the
+words she had uttered. Denis felt himself called on for a vindication,
+and he was resolved to give it.
+
+“Susan,” he returned, “your imagination is erroneous. By all the
+classical authors that ever were written, you are antipodialry opposed
+to facts. What harm is there, seeing that you and I can never be joined
+in wedlock--what harm is there, I say, in recommending you another
+husb--”
+
+Susan would hear no more. She gathered up her stocking and ball of
+thread, placed them in her apron, went into her father's house, shut and
+bolted the door, and gave way to violent grief. All this occurred in a
+moment, and Denis found himself excluded.
+
+He did not wish, however, to part from her in anger; so, after having
+attempted to look through the, keyhole of the door, and applied his eye
+in vain to the window, he at length spoke.
+
+“Is there any body within but yourself, Susy?”
+
+He received no reply.
+
+“I say, Susy--_dilecta juventutis meae_--touching the
+recommendation--now don't be crying--touching the recommendation of
+another husband, by all the classics that ever were mistranslated, I
+meant nothing but the purest of consolation. If I did, may I be reduced
+to primeval and aboriginal ignorance! But you know yourself, that they
+never prospered who prevented a _rara avis_ like me from entering the
+church--from laboring in the vineyard, and cultivating the grape. Don't
+be hathenish; but act with a philosophy suitable to so dignified an
+occasion--Farewell! _Macte virtute_, and be firm. I swear again by all
+the class--”
+
+The appearance of a neighbor caused him to cut short his oath. Seeing
+that the man approached the house, he drew off, and returned home, more
+seriously affected by Susan's agitation than he was willing to admit
+even to himself.
+
+This triumph over his affection was, in fact, only the conquest of
+one passion over another. His attachment to Susan Connor was
+certainly sincere, and ere the prospects of his entering Maynooth were
+unexpectedly brought near him, by the interference of Father Finnerty,
+his secret purpose all along had been to enter with her into the state
+of matrimony, rather than into the church. Ambition, however, is beyond
+all comparison the most powerful principle of human conduct, and so
+Denny found it. Although his unceremonious abandonment of Susan appeared
+heartless and cruel, yet it was not effected on his part without
+profound sorrow and remorse. The two principles, when they began to
+struggle in his heart for supremacy, resembled the rival destinies of
+Caesar and Mark Antony. Love declined in the presence of ambition; and
+this, in proportion as all the circumstances calculated to work upon
+the strong imagination of a young man naturally fond of power, began to
+assume an appearance of reality. To be, in the course of a few years,
+a _bona fide_ priest; to possess unlimited sway over the fears and
+principles of the people; to be endowed with spiritual gifts to he knew
+not what extent; and to enjoy himself as he had an opportunity of
+seeing Father Finnerty and his curate do, in the full swing of convivial
+pleasure, upon the ample hospitality of those who, in addition to this,
+were ready to kiss the latchet of his shoes--were, it must be admitted,
+no inconsiderable motives in influencing the conduct of a person reared
+in an humble condition of life. The claims of poor Susan, her modesty,
+her attachment, and her beauty--were all insufficient to prevail against
+such a host of opposing motives; and the consequence, though bitter, and
+subversive of her happiness, was a final determination on the part of
+Denny, to acquaint her, with a kind of _ex-officio_ formality, that
+all intercourse upon the subject of their mutual attachment must cease
+between them. Notwithstanding his boasted knowledge, however, he was
+ignorant of sentiment, and accordingly confined himself, as I have
+intimated, to a double species of argument; that is to say, first, the
+danger and sin of opposing the wishes of the church which had claimed
+him, as he said, to labor in the vineyard; and secondly, the undoubted
+fact, that there were plenty of good husbands besides himself in the
+world, from some one of which, he informed her, he had no doubt, she
+could be accommodated.
+
+In the meantime, her image, meek, and fair, and uncomplaining, would
+from time to time glide into his imagination; and the melody of her
+voice send its music once more to his vaccillating heart. He usually
+paused then, and almost considered himself under the influence of a
+dream; but ambition, with its train of shadowy honors, would immediately
+present itself, and Susan was again forgotten.
+
+When he rejoined the company, to whom he had given the slip, he found
+them all gone, except about six or eight whom his father had compelled
+to stop for dinner. His mind was now much lighter than it had been
+before his interview with Susan, nor were his spirits at all depressed
+by perceiving that a new knife and fork lay glittering upon the dresser
+for his own particular use.
+
+“Why, thin, where have you been all this time,” said the father, “an' we
+wantin' to know whether you'd like the mutton to be boiled or roasted!”
+
+“I was soliloquizing in the glen below,” replied Denny, once more
+assuming his pedantry, “meditating upon the transparency of all human
+events; but as for the beef and mutton, I advise you to boil the beef,
+and roast the mutton, or vice versa, to boil the mutton, and roast the
+beef. But I persave my mother has anticipated me, and boiled them both
+with that flitch of bacon that's playing the vagrant in the big pot
+there. _Tria juncla in uno_, as Horace says in the Epodes, when
+expatiating upon the Roman Emperors--ehem!”
+
+“Misther Denis,” said one of those present, “maybe you'd tell us upon
+the watch, what the hour is, if you plase, sir; myself never can know
+right at all, except by the shadow of the sun from the corner of our own
+gavel.”
+
+“Why,” replied Denis, pulling it out with much pomp of manner, “it's
+just half-past two to a quarter of a minute, and a few seconds.”
+
+“Why thin what a quare thing entirely a watch is,” the other continued;
+“now what makes you hould it to your ear, Misther Denis, if you plase?”
+
+“The efficient cause of that, Larry, is, that the drum of the ear,
+you persave--the drum of the ear--is enabled to catch the intonations
+produced by the machinery of its internal operations--otherwise the fact
+of applying it to the ear would be unnecessary--altogether unnecessary.”
+
+“Dear me! see what it is to have the knowledge, any way! But isn't it
+quare how it moves of itself like a livin' crathur? How is that, Misther
+Denis?”
+
+“Why, Larry,--ehem--you see the motions of it are--that is--the works
+or operations, are all continually going; and sure it is from that
+explanation that we say a watch goes well. That's more than you ever
+knew before, Larry.”
+
+“Indeed it surely is, sir, an' is much oblaged to you, Misther Denis;
+sure if I ever come to wear a watch in my fob, I'll know something about
+it, anyhow.”
+
+For the remainder of that day Denis was as learned and consequential
+as ever; his friends, when their hearts were opened by his father's
+hospitality, all promised him substantial aid in money, and in presents
+of such articles as they supposed might be serviceable to him in
+Maynooth. Denny received their proffers of support with suitable dignity
+and gratitude. A scene of bustle and preparation now commenced among
+them, nor was Denny himself the least engaged; for it somehow happened,
+that notwithstanding his profound erudition, he felt it necessary to
+read night or day in order to pass with more eclat the examination which
+he had to stand before the bishop ere his appointment to Maynooth. This
+ordeal was to occur upon a day fixed for the purpose, in the ensuing
+month; and indeed Denis occupied as much of the intervening period in
+study as his circumstances would permit. His situation was, at this
+crisis, certainly peculiar. Every person related to him in the
+slightest degree contrived to revive their relationship; his former
+school-fellows, on hearing that he was actually destined to be of the
+church, renewed their acquaintance with him, and those who had been
+servants to his father, took the liberty of speaking to him upon the
+strength of that fact. No child, to the remotest shade of affinity, was
+born, for which he did not stand godfather; nieces and nephews thickened
+about him, all with remarkable talents, and many of them, particularly
+of the nieces, said to be exceedingly genteel--very thrifty for their
+ages, and likely to make excellent housekeepers. A strong likeness to
+himself was also pointed out in the features of his nephews, one of whom
+had his born nose--another his eyes--and a third again had his brave
+high-flown way with him. In short, he began to feel some of the
+inconveniences of greatness; and, like it, to be surrounded by cringing
+servility and meanness. When he went to the chapel he was beset, and
+followed from place to place, by a retinue of friends who were all
+anxious to secure to themselves the most conspicuous marks of his
+notice. It was the same thing in fair or market; they contended with
+each other who should do him most honor, or afford to him and his
+father's immediate family the most costly treat, accompanied by the
+grossest expressions of flattery. Every male infant born among them was
+called Dionysius; and every female one Susan, after his favorite sister.
+All this, to a lad like Denis, already remarkable for his vanity, was
+very trying; or rather, it absolutely turned his brain, and made him
+probably as finished a specimen of pride, self-conceit, and domineering
+arrogance, mingled with a kind of lurking humorous contempt for his
+cringing relations, as could be displayed in the person of some shallow
+but knavish prime minister, surrounded by his selfish sycophants, whom
+he encourages and despises.
+
+At home he was idolized--overwhelmed with respect and deference. The
+slightest intimation of his wish was a command to them; the beef, and
+fowl, and mutton, were at hand in all the variety of culinary skill,
+and not a soul in the house durst lay a hand upon his knife and fork
+but himself. In the morning, when the family were to be seen around
+the kitchen table at their plain but substantial breakfast, Denis was
+lording it in solitary greatness over an excellent breakfast of tea and
+eggs in another room.
+
+It was now, too, that the king's English, as well as the mutton, was
+carved and hacked to some purpose; epithets prodigiously long and
+foreign to the purpose were pressed into his conversation, for no other
+reason than because those to whom he spoke could not understand them;
+but the principal portion of his time was devoted to study. The bishop,
+he had heard, was a sound scholar, and exceedingly scrupulous in
+recommending any to Maynooth, except such as were well versed in the
+preparatory course. Independently of this, he was anxious, he said, to
+distinguish himself in his examination, and, if possible, to sustain
+as high a character with the bishop and his fellow-students, as he did
+among the peasantry of his own neighborhood.
+
+At length the day approached. The bishop's residence was not distant
+more than a few hours' ride, and he would have sufficient time to arrive
+there, pass his examination, and return in time for dinner. On the eve
+of his departure, old Denis invited Father Finnerty, his curate and
+about a dozen relations and friends, to dine with him the next day;
+when--Denis having surmounted the last obstacle to the accomplishment of
+his hopes--their hearts could open without a single reflection to check
+the exuberance of their pride, hospitality, and happiness.
+
+I have often said to my friends, and I now repeat it in print, that
+after all there is no people bound up so strongly to each other by the
+ties of domestic life as the Irish. On the night which preceded this
+joyous and important day, a spirit of silent but tender affection dwelt
+in every heart of the O'Shaughnessys. The great point of interest was
+Denis. He himself was serious, and evidently labored under that strong
+anxiety so natural to a youth in his circumstances. A Roman Catholic
+bishop, too, is a personage looked upon by the people with a kind of
+feeling that embodies in it awe, reverence, and fear. Though, in this
+country, an humble man possessing neither the rank in society,
+outward splendor, nor the gorgeous profusion of wealth and pomp
+which characterize a prelate of the Established Church; yet it is
+unquestionable that the gloomy dread, and sense of formidable power with
+which they impress the minds of the submissive peasantry, immeasurably
+surpass the more legitimate influence which any Protestant dignitary
+could exercise over those who stand, with respect to him, in a more
+rational and independent position.
+
+It was not surprising that Denis, who practised upon ignorant people
+that petty despotism for which he was so remarkable, should now,
+on coming in contact with great spiritual authority, adopt his own
+principles, and relapse from the proud pedant into the cowardly slave.
+True it is that he presented a most melancholy specimen of independence
+in a crisis where moral courage was so necessary; but his dread of the
+coming day was judiciously locked up in his own bosom. His silence and
+apprehension were imputed to the workings of a mind learnedly engaged in
+arranging the vast stores of knowledge with which it was so abundantly
+stocked; his moody picture of the bishop's brow; his reflection that he
+was going before so sacred a person, as a candidate for the church,
+with his heart yet redolent of earthly affection for Susan Connor; his
+apprehension that the bishop's spiritual scent might sagaciously smell
+it out, were all put down by the family to the credit of uncommon
+learning, which, as his mother observed truly, “often makes men do quare
+things.” His embarrassments, however, inasmuch as they were ascribed
+by them to wrong causes, endeared him more to their hearts than ever.
+Because he spoke little, neither the usual noise nor bustle of a large
+family disturbed the silence of the house; every word was uttered that
+evening in a low tone, at once expressive of tenderness and respect. The
+family supper was tea, in compliment to Denis; and they all partook of
+it with him. Nothing humbles the mind, and gives the natural feelings
+their full play, so well as a struggle in life, or the appearance of its
+approach.
+
+“Denis,” said the father, “the time will come when we won't have you at
+all among us; but, thank goodness, you'll be in a betther place.”
+
+Denis heard him not, and consequently made no reply.
+
+“They say Maynewth's a tryin' place, too,” he continued, “an' I'd be
+sorry to see him pulled down to anatomy, like some of the scarecrows
+that come qut of it. I hope you'll bear it betther.”
+
+“Do you speak to me?” said Denis, awaking out of a reverie.
+
+“I do, sir,” replied the father; and as he uttered the words the son
+perceived that his eyes were fixed upon him with an expression of
+affectionate sorrow and pride.
+
+The youth was then in a serious mood, free from all the dominion of that
+learned mania under which he had so frequently signalized himself: the
+sorrow of his father, and a consciousness of the deep affection and
+unceasing kindness which he had ever experienced from him, joined to
+a recollection of their former friendly disputes and companionship,
+touched Denny to the quick. But the humility with which he applied
+to him the epithet sir, touched him most. What! thought he--ought my
+affectionate father to be thrown to such a distance from a son, who
+owes everything to his love and goodness! The thought of his stooping so
+humbly before him smote the boy's heart, and the tears glistened in his
+eyes.
+
+“Father,” said he, “you have been kind and good to me, beyond my
+deserts; surely then I cannot bear to hear you address me in that
+manner, as if we were both strangers. Nor while I am with you, shall
+any of you so address me. Remember that I am still your son and their
+brother.”
+
+The natural affection displayed in this speech soon melted the whole
+family into tears--not excepting Denis himself, who felt that grief
+which we experience when about to be separated for the first time from
+those we love.
+
+“Come over, avourneen,” said his mother, drying her eyes with the corner
+of her check apron: “come over, _acushla machree_, an' sit beside me:
+sure although we're sorry for you, Denis, it's proud our hearts are of
+you, an' good right we have, a sullish! Come over, an let me be near you
+as long as I can, any way.”
+
+Denis placed himself beside her, and the proud mother drew his head over
+upon her bosom, and bedewed his face with a gush of tears.
+
+“They say,” she observed, “that it's sinful to shed tears when there's
+no occasion for grief; but I hope it's no sin to cry when one's heart is
+full of somethin' that brings them to one's eyes, whether they will or
+not.”
+
+“Mave,” said the father, “I'll miss him more nor any of you: but sure
+he'll often send letters to us from Maynewth, to tell us now he's
+gettin' on; an' we'll be proud enough, never fear.”
+
+“You'll miss me, Denis,” said his favorite sister, who was also called
+Susan; “for you'll find no one in Maynewth that will keep your linen so
+white as I did: but never fear, I'll be always knittin' you stockings;
+an' every year I'll make you half-a-dozen shirts, and you'll think them
+more natural nor other shirts, when you know they came from your own
+home--from them that you love! Won't you, Denis?”
+
+“I will, Susy; and I will love the shirts for the sake of the hands that
+made them.”
+
+“And I won't allow Susy Connor to help me as she used to do: they'll be
+all Alley's sewin' and mine.”
+
+“The poor colleen--listen to her!” exclaimed the affectionate father;
+“indeed you will, Susy; ay, and hem his cravats, that we'll send him
+ready made an' all.”
+
+“Yes,” replied Denis, “but as to Susy Connor--hem--why, upon
+considera--he--hem--upon second thoughts, I don't see why you should
+prevent her from helping you; she's a neighbor's daughter, and a
+well-wisher, of whose prosperity in life I'd always wish to hear.
+
+“The poor girl's very bad in her health, for the last three weeks,”
+ observed his other sister Alley: “she has lost her appetite, an' is cast
+down entirely in her spirits. You ought to go an' see her, Denis, before
+you set out for the college, if it was only on her dacent father's
+account. When I was tellin' her yisterday that you wor to get the
+bishop's letter for Maynewth to-morrow, she was in so poor a state of
+health that she nearly fainted. I had to give her a drink of wather, and
+sprinkle her face with it. Well, she's a purty crathur, an' a good girl,
+an' was always that, dear knows!”
+
+“Denis achree,” said his mother, somewhat alarmed, “are you any way
+unwell? Why your heart's batin' like a new catched chicken! Are you
+sick, acushla; or are you used to this?”
+
+“It won't signify,” replied Denis, gently raising himself from his
+mother's arms, “I will sit up, mother; it's but a sudden stroke or two
+of _tremor cordis_, produced probably by having my mind too much upon
+one object.”
+
+“I think,” said his father, “he will be the betther of a little drop of
+the poteen made into punch, an' for that matter we can all take a sup
+of it; as there's no one here but ourselves, we will have it snug an'
+comfortable.”
+
+Nothing resembles an April day more than the general disposition of
+the Irish people. When old Denis's proposal for the punch was made, the
+gloom which hung over the family--originating, as it did, more in joy
+than in soitow--soon began to disappear. Their countenances gradually
+brightened, by and by mirth stole out, and ere the punch had
+accomplished its first round, laughter, and jest, and good-humor,--each,
+in consequence of the occasion, more buoyant and vivacious than usual,
+were in full play. Denis himself, when animated by the unexcised liquor,
+threw off his dejection, and' ere the night was half spent found himself
+in the highest region of pedantry.
+
+“I would not,” said he, “turn my back upon any other candidate in the
+province, in point of preparatory excellence and ardency of imagination.
+I say, sitting here beside you, my worthy and logical father, I would
+not retrograde from any candidate for the honors of the Catholic Church
+in the province--in the kingdom--in Europe; and it is not improbable but
+I might progradiate another step, and say Christendom at large. And now,
+what's a candidate? Father, you have some apprehension in you, and are a
+passable second-hand controversialist--what's a candidate? Will you tell
+me?”
+
+“I give it up, Denis; but you'll tell us.”
+
+“Yes, I will tell you. Candidate signifies a man dressed in fustian; it
+comes from _candidus_, which is partly Greek, partly Latin, and partly
+Hebrew. It was the learned designation for Irish linen, too, which in
+the time of the Romans was in great request at Home; but it was changed
+to signify fustian, because it was found that everything a man promised
+on becoming a candidate for any office, turned out to be only fustian
+when he got it.”
+
+“Denis, avourneen,” said his mother, “the greatest comfort myself has is
+to be thinkin' that when you're a priest, you can be sayin' masses for
+my poor sinful sowl.”
+
+“Yes, there is undoubtedly comfort in, that reflection; and depend
+upon it, my dear mother, that I'll be sure to clinch your masses in
+the surest mode. I'll not fly over them like Camilla across a field
+of potato oats, without discommoding a single walk, as too many of my
+worthy brethren--I mane as! too many of those whose worthy brother I
+will soon be--do in this present year of grace. I'm no fool at the
+Latin, but, as I'm an unworthy candidate for Maynooth, I cannot even
+understand every fifteenth word they say when reading mass,
+independently of the utter scorn with which they treat; these two
+Scholastic old worthies, called! Syntax and Prosody.”
+
+“Denis,” said the father, “nothing would give me greater delight than to
+be present at your first mass, an' your first sarmon; and next to that I
+would like to be stumpin' about wid a dacent staff in my hand, maybe wid
+a bit of silver on the head of it, takin' care of your place when you'd
+have a parish.”
+
+“At all events, if you're not with me, father, I'll keep you comfortable
+wherever you'll be, whether in this world or the other; for, plase
+goodness, I'll have some influence in both.--When I get a parish,
+however, it is not improbable that I may have occasion to see company;
+the neighboring gentlemen will be apt to relish my society, particularly
+those who are addicted to conviviality; and our object will be to render
+ourselves as populous as possible; now, whether in that case it would be
+compatible--but never fear, father, whilst I have the means, you or one
+of the family shall never want.”
+
+“Will you let the people be far behind in their dues, Denis?” inquired
+Brian.
+
+“No, no--leave that point to my management. Depend upon it, I'll have
+them like mice before me--ready to run into the first augerhole they
+meet. I'll collect lots of oats, and get as much yarn every year as
+would clothe three regiments of militia, or, for that matther, of
+dragoons. I'll appoint my stations, too, in the snuggest farmers' houses
+in the parish, just as Father Finnerty, our worthy parochial priest,
+ingeniously contrives to do. And, to revert secondarily to the
+collection of the oats, I'll talk liberally to the Protestant boddaghs;
+give the Presbyterians a learned homily upon civil and religious
+freedom: make hard hits with them at that Incubus, the Established
+Church; and, never fear, but I shall fill bag after bag with good corn
+from many of both creeds.”
+
+“That,” said Brian, “will be givin' them the bag to hould in airnest.”
+
+“No, Brian, but it will be makin' them fill the bag when I hold it,
+which will be better still.”
+
+“But,” said Susan, “who'll keep house for you? You know that a priest
+can't live widout a housekeeper.”
+
+“That, Susy,” replied Denis, “is, and will be the most difficult point
+on which to accomplish anything like a satisfactory determination. I
+have nieces enough, however. There's Peter Finnegan's eldest daughter
+Mary, and Hugh Tracy's Ailsey--(to whom he added about a dozen and a
+half more)--together with several yet to be endowed with existence, all
+of whom will be brisk candidates for the situation.”
+
+“I don't think,” replied Mrs. O'Shaughnessy, “that you'll ever get any
+one who'd be more comfortable about you nor your own ould mother. What
+do you think of takin' myself, Denis?”
+
+“Ay, but consider the accomplishments in the culinary art--_in re vel in
+arte culinaria_--which will be necessary for my housekeeper to know. How
+would you, for instance, dress a dinner for the bishop if he happened to
+pay me a visit, as you may be certain he will? How would you make pies
+and puddings, and disport your fancy through all the varieties of roast
+and boil? How would you dress a fowl that it would stand upon a dish
+as if it was going to dance a hornpipe? How would you amalgamate the
+different genera of wine with boiling fluid and crystallized saccharine
+matter? How would you dispose of the various dishes upon the table
+according to high life and mathematics? Wouldn't you be too old to bathe
+my feet when I'd be unwell? Wouldn't you be too old to bring me my whey
+in the morning soon as I'd awake, perhaps with a severe headache, after
+the plenary indulgence of a clerical compotation? Wouldn't you be too
+old to sit up till the middle of the nocturnal hour, awaiting my arrival
+home? Wouldn't you be--”
+
+“Hut, tut, that's enough, Denny, I'd never do at all. No, no, but I'll
+sit a clane, dacent ould woman in the corner upon a chair that you'll
+get made for me. There I'll be wid my pipe and tobacco, smokin' at my
+aise, chattin' to the sarvints, and sometimes discoorsin' the neighbors
+that'll come to inquire for you, when they'll be sittin' in the kitchen
+waitin' till you get through your office. Jist let me have that, Dinny
+achora, and I'll be as happy as the day's long.”
+
+“And I on the other side,” said his father, naturally enough struck with
+the happy simplicity of the picture which his wife drew, “on the other
+side, Mave, a snug, dacent ould man, chattin' to you across the fire,
+proud to see the bishop an' the gintlemen about him. An' I wouldn't ax
+to be taken into the parlor at all, except, maybe, when there would be
+nobody there but yourself, Denis; an' that your mother an' I would go
+into the parlor to get a glass of punch, or, if it could be spared, a
+little taste of wine for novelty.”
+
+“And so you shall, both of you--you, father, at one side of the hob,
+and my mother here at the other, the king and queen of my culinarian
+dominions. But practice taciturnity a little--I'm visited by the muse,
+and must indulge in a strain of vocal melody--hem--'tis a few lines of
+my own composure, the offspring of a moment of inspiration by the nine
+female Heliconians; but before I incipiate, here's to my own celebrity
+to-morrow, and afterwards all your healths!”
+
+He then proceeded to sing in his best style a song composed, as he said,
+by himself, but which, as the composition was rather an eccentric one,
+we decline giving.
+
+“Denis,” said his brother, “you'll have great sport at the Station's.”
+
+“Yes, Brian, most inimitable specimen of fraternity, I do look into the
+futurity of a station with great complacency. Hem--in the morning I
+rise up in imagination, and after reading part of my office, I and my
+curate--_ego et coadjutor metis_--or, if I get a large parish, perhaps I
+and my two curates--_ego et coudjutores mei_--order our horses, and
+of a fine, calm summer morning we mount them as gracefully as three
+throopers. The sun is up, and of coorse the moon is down, and the
+glitter of the light, the sparkling of the dew, the canticles of the
+birds, and the _melodiotis_ cowing of the crows in Squire Grimshaw's
+rookery--”
+
+“Why, Denis, is it this parish you'll have?”
+
+“Silence, silence, till I complate my rural ideas--in some gentleman's
+rookery at all events; the thrush here, the blackbird there, the
+corn-craik chanting its varied note in another place, and so on. In the
+meantime we reverend sentimentalists advance, gazing with odoriferous
+admiration upon the prospect about us, and expatiating in the purest
+of Latin upon the beauties of unsophisticated nature. When we meet the
+peasants going out to their work, they put their hands to their hats
+for us; but as I am known to be the parochial priest, it is to me the
+salutation is directed, which I return with the air of a man who thinks
+nothing of such things; but, I on the contrary, knows them to be his
+due. The poor creatures of curates you must know, don't presume to
+speak of themselves, but simply answer whenever I condescend to propose
+conversation, for I'll keep them down, never fear. In this edifying
+style we proceed--I a few steps in advance, and they at a respectful
+distance behind me, the heads of their horses just to my saddle
+skirts--my clerical boots as brilliant as the countenance of Phoebus,
+when decked with rosy smiles, theirs more subordinately polished, for
+there should be gradations in all things, and humility is the first of
+virtues in a Christian curate. My bunch of gold sales stands out proudly
+from my anterior rotundity, for by this time, plase God, I'll be getting
+frolicsome and corpulent: they with only a poor bit of ribbon, and a
+single two-penny kay, stained with verdigrace. In the meantime, we come
+within sight of the wealthy farmer's house, wherein we are to hold the
+edifying solemnity of a station. There is a joyful appearance of study
+and bustle about the premises: the peasantry are flocking towards it,
+dressed in their best clothes; the proprietors of the mansion itself are
+running out to try if we are in appearance, and the very smoke disports
+itself hilariously in the air, and bounds up as if it was striving
+to catch the first glimpse of the clargy. When we approach, the
+good man--_pater-familias_--comes out to meet us, and the good
+woman--_mater-farmilias_--comes curtseying from the door to give the
+head _milliafailtha_. No sooner do we parsave ourselves noticed, then
+out comes the Breviary, and in a moment we are at our morning devotions.
+I being the rector, am particularly grave and dignified. I do not speak
+much, but am rather sharp, and order the curates, whom I treat, however,
+with great respect before the people, instantly to work. This impresses
+those who are present with awe and reverence for us all, especially for
+Father O'Shaughnessy himself--(that's me).--I then take a short turn or
+two across the floor, silently perusing my office, after which I lay
+it aside, and relax into a little conversation with the people of the
+house, to show that I can conciliate by love as readily as I can impress
+them with fear; for, you see _divide et impera_ is as aptly applied
+to the passions as to maxims of state policy--ehem. I then go to my
+tribunal, and first hear the man and woman and family of the house, and
+afther them the other penitents according as they can come to me.
+
+“Thus we go on absolving in great style, till it is time for the
+_matutinal_ meal--vulgarly called breakfast; when the whiskey, eggs,
+toast, and tea as strong as Hercules, with ham, fowl, beef-steaks,
+or mutton-chops, all pour in upon us in the full tide of hospitality.
+Helter-skelter, cut and thrust, right and left, we work away, till the
+appetite reposes itself upon the cushion of repletion: and off we go
+once more, full an' warm, to the delicate employment of adjudicating
+upon sin and transgression, until dinner comes, when, having despatched
+as many as possible--for the quicker we get through them the better--we
+set about despatching what is always worth a ship-load of such
+riff-raff--_videlicet_, a good and extensive dinner. Oh, ye pagan gods
+of eating and drinking, Bacchus and--let me see who the presiding deity
+of good feeding was in the Olympian synod--as I'm an unworthy candidate
+I forget that topic of learning; but no matter, _non constat_. Oh, ye
+pagan professors of ating and drinking, Bacchus, and Epicurus, and St.
+Heliogabalus, Anthony of Padua, and Paul the Hermit, who poached for his
+own venison, St. Tuck, and St. Takem, St. Drinkem, and St. Eatem, with
+all the other reverend worthies, who bore the blushing honors of the
+table thick upon your noses, come and inspire your unworthy candidate,
+while he essays to chant the praises of a Station dinner!
+
+“Then, then, does the priest appropriate to himself his due share of
+enjoyment Then does he, like Elias, throw his garment of inspiration
+upon his coadjutors. Then is the goose cut up, and the farmer's
+distilled Latin is found to be purer and more edifying than the
+distillation of Maynooth.
+
+     'Drink deep, or taste not that Pierian spring,
+     A little learning here's a dangerous thing.'
+
+And so it is, as far as this inspiring language is concerned. A station
+dinner is the very pinnacle of a priest's happiness. There is the fun
+and frolic; then does the lemon-juice of mirth and humor come out of
+their reverences, like secret writing, as soon as they get properly
+warm. The song and the joke, the laugh and the leer, the shaking of
+hands, the making of matches, and the projection of weddings,--och, I
+must conclude, or my brisk fancy will dissolve in the deluding vision!
+Here's to my celebrity to-morrow, and may the Bishop catch a Tartar
+in your son, my excellent and logical father!--as I tell you among
+ourselves he will do. Mark me, I say it, but it's _inter nos_, it won't
+go further; but should he trouble me with profundity, may be I'll make a
+_ludibrium_ of him.”
+
+“But you forget the weddings and christenings, Denis; you'll have great
+sport at them too.”
+
+“I can't remember three things at a time, Brian; but you are mistaken,
+however, I had them snug in one corner of my cranium. The weddings and
+the christenings! do you think I'll have nothing to do in them, you!
+_stultus_ you?”
+
+“But, Denis, is there any harm in the priests enjoying themselves, and
+they so holy as we know they are?” inquired his mother.
+
+“Not the least in life; considering what severe fasting, and great
+praying they have; besides it's necessary for them to take something to
+put the sins of the people out of their heads, and that's one reason why
+they are often jolly at Stations.”
+
+“My goodness, what light Denis can throw upon anything!”
+
+“Not without deep study, mother; but let us have another portion of
+punch each, afther which I'll read a Latin De Profundis, and we'll go to
+bed, I must be up early tomorrow; and, Brian, you'll please to have the
+black mare saddled and my spur brightened as jinteely as you can, for I
+must go in as much state and grandeur as possible.” Accordingly, in due
+time, after hearing the De Profundis, which Denis read in as sonorous a
+tone, and as pompous a manner, as he could assume, they went to bed for
+the night, to dream of future dignities for their relative.
+
+When Denis appeared the next morning, it was evident that the spirit
+of prophecy in which he had contemplated the enjoyments annexed to his
+ideal station on the preceding night, had departed from him. He was pale
+and anxious, as in the early part of the,previous evening. At breakfast,
+his very appetite treacherously abandoned him, despite the buttered
+toast and eggs which his mother forced upon him with such tender
+assiduity, in order, she said, to make him stout against the Bishop.
+Her solicitations, however, were vain; after attempting to eat to no
+purpose, he arose and began to prepare himself for his journey. This,
+indeed, was a work of considerable importance, for, as they had no
+looking-glass, he was obliged to dress himself over a tub of water, in
+which, since truth must be told, he saw a very cowardly visage. In due
+time, however, he was ready to proceed upon his journey, apparelled in a
+new suit of black that sat stiffly and awkwardly upon him, crumpled in
+a manner that enabled any person, at a glance, to perceive that it was
+worn for the first time. When he was setting out, his father approached
+him with a small jug of holy water in his hand. “Denis,” said he, “I
+think you won't be the worse for a sprinkle of this;” and he accordingly
+was about to shake it with a little brush over his person, when Denis
+arrested his hand.
+
+“Easy, father,” he replied, “you don't remember that my new clothes are
+on. I'll just take a little with, my fingers, for you know one drop is
+as good as a thousand.”
+
+“I know that,” said the father, “but on the other hand you know it's not
+lucky to refuse it.”
+
+“I didn't refuse it,” rejoined Denis, “I surely took a quantum suff. of
+it with my own hand.”
+
+“It was very near a refusal,” said the father, in a disappointed and
+somewhat sorrowful tone; “but it can't be helped now. I'm only sorry
+you put it and quantum suff. in connection at all. Quantum suff. is what
+Father Finnerty says, when he will take no more punch; and it doesn't
+argue respect in you to make as little of a jug of holy wather as he
+does of a jug of punch.”
+
+“I'm sarry for it too,” replied Denis, who was every whit as
+superstitious as his father; “and to atone for my error, I desire you
+will sprinkle me all over with it--clothes and all.”
+
+The father complied with this, and Denis was setting out, when his
+mother exclaimed, “Blessed be them above us, Denis More! Look at the
+boy's legs! There's luck! Why one of his stockin's has the wrong side
+out, and it's upon the right leg too! Well, this will be a fortunate
+day for you, Denis, any way; the same thing never happened myself, but
+something good followed it.”
+
+This produced a slight conflict between Denis's personal vanity and
+superstition; but on this occasion superstition prevailed: he even felt
+his spirits considerably elevated by the incident, mounted the mare, and
+after jerking himself once or twice in the saddle, to be certain that
+all was right, he touched her with the spur, and set out to be examined
+by the Bishop, exclaiming as he went, “Let his lordship take care that I
+don't make a _ludibrium_ of him.”
+
+The family at that moment all came to the door, where they stood looking
+after, and admiring him, until he turned a corner of the road, and left
+their sight.
+
+Many were the speculations entered into during his absence, as to the
+fact, whether or not he would put down the bishop in the course of the
+examination; some of them holding that he could do so if he wished; but
+others of them denying that it was possible for him, inasmuch as he had
+never received holy orders.
+
+The day passed, but not in the usual way, in Denis More O'Shaughnessy's.
+The females of the family were busily engaged in preparing for the
+dinner, to which Father Finnerty, his curate, and several of their
+nearest and wealthiest friends had been invited; and the men in clearing
+out the stables and other offices for the horses of the guests. Pride
+and satisfaction were visible on every face, and that disposition to
+cordiality and to the oblivion of everything unpleasant to the mind,
+marked, in a prominent manner, their conduct and conversation. Old
+Denis went, and voluntarily spoke to a neighbor, with whom he had not
+exchanged a word, except in anger, for some time. He found him at work
+in the field, and, advancing with open hand and heart, he begged his
+pardon for any offence he might have given him.
+
+“My son,” said he, “is goin' to Maynooth; and as he is a boy that we
+have a good right to be proud of, and as our friends are comin' to
+ate their dinner wid us to-day, and as--as my heart is to full to bear
+ill-will against any livin' sowl, let alone a man that I know to be
+sound at the heart, in spite of all that has come between us--I say,
+Darby, I forgive you, and I expect pardon for my share of the offence.
+There's the hand of an honest man--let us be as neighbors ought to be,
+and not divided into parties and factions against one another, as we
+have been too long. Take your dinner wid us to-day, and let us hear no
+more about ill-will and unkindness.”
+
+“Denis,” said his friend, “it ill becomes you to spake first. 'Tis I
+that ought to do that, and to do it long ago too; but you see, somehow,
+so long as it was to be decided by blows between the families, I'd never
+give in. Not but that I might do so, but my sons, Denis, wouldn't hear
+of it. Throth, I'm glad of this, and so will they too; for only for the
+honor and glory of houldin' out, we might be all friends through
+other long ago. And I'll tell you what, we couldn't do better, the
+two factions of us, nor join and thrash them Haigneys that always put
+between us.”
+
+“No, Darby, I tell you, I bear no ill-will, no bad thoughts agin any
+born Christian this day, and I won't hear of that. Come to us about five
+o'clock: we're to have Father Finnerty, and Father Molony, his curate:
+all friends, man, all friends; and Denny, God guard him this day, will
+be home, afther passin' the Bishop, about four o'clock.”
+
+“I always thought that gorsoon would come to somethin'. Why it was
+wondherful how he used to discoorse upon the chapel-green, yourself and
+himself: but he soon left you behind. And how he sealed up poor ould
+Dixon, the parish dark's mouth, at Barny Boccagh's wake. God rest his
+soul! It was talkin' about the Protestant church they wor. 'Why,' said
+Misther Denis, 'you ould termagent, can you tell me who first discovered
+your church?' The dotin' ould crathur began of hummin', and hawin',
+and advisin' the boy to have more sense. 'Come,' said he, 'you ould
+canticle, can you answer? But for fear you can't, I'll answer for you.
+It was the divil discovered it, one fine mornin' that he went out to get
+an appetite, bein' in delicate health.' Why, Denis, you'd tie all that
+wor present wid a rotten sthraw.”
+
+“Darby, I ax your pardon over agin for what came between us; and I see
+now betther than I did, that the fault of it was more mine nor yours.
+You'll be down surely about five o'clock?”
+
+“I must go and take this beard off o' me, and clane myself; and I may as
+well do that now: but I'll be down, never fear.”
+
+“In throth the boy was always bright!--ha, ha, ha!--and he sobered
+Dixon?”
+
+“Had him like a judge in no time.”
+
+“Oh, he would do it--he could do that, at all times. God be wid you,
+Darby, till I see you in the evenin'.
+
+“_Bannaght lhath_, Denis, an' I'm proud we're as we ought to be.”
+
+About four o'clock, the expected guests began to assemble at Denis's;
+and about the same hour one might perceive Susan O'Shaughnessy running
+out to a stile a little above the house, where she stood for a few
+minutes, with her hand shadingher eyes, looking long and intensely
+towards the direction from which she expected her brother to return.
+Hitherto, however, he could not be discovered in the distance, although
+scarcely five minutes elapsed during the intervals of her appearance
+at the stile to watch him. Some horsemen she did notice; but after
+straining her eyes eagerly and anxiously, she was enabled only to
+report, with a dejected air, that they were their own friends coming
+from a distant part of the parish, to be present at the dinner. At
+length, after a long and eager look, she ran in with an exclamation of
+delight, saying--
+
+“Thank goodness, he's comin' at last; I see somebody dressed in black
+ridin' down the upper end of Tim Marly's boreen, an' I'm sure an'
+certain it must be Denis, from his dress!”
+
+“I'll warrant it is, my colleen,” replied her father; “he said he'd be
+here before the dinner would be ready, an' it's widin a good hour of
+that. I'll thry myself.”
+
+He and his daughter once more went out; but, alas! only to experience a
+fresh disappointment. Instead of Denis, it was Father Finnerty; who,
+it appeared, felt as anxious to be in time for dinner, as the young
+candidate himself could have done. He was advancing at a brisk trot,
+not upon the colt which had been presented to him, but upon his old nag,
+which seemed to feel as eager to get at Denis's oats, as its owner did
+to taste his mutton.
+
+“I see, Susy, we'll have a day of it, plase goodness,” observed Denis
+to the girl; “here's Father Finnerty, and I wouldn't for more nor I'll
+mention that he had staid away: and I hope the coidjuther will come as
+well as himself. Do you go in, aroon, and tell them he's comin', and
+I'll go and meet him.”
+
+Most of Denis's friends were now assembled, dressed in their best
+apparel, and Raised to the highest pitch of good humor; no man who knows
+the relish with which Irishmen enter into convivial enjoyments, can
+be ignorant of the remarkable flow of spirits which the prospect of an
+abundant and hospitable dinner produces among them.
+
+Father Finnerty was one of those priests who constitute a numerous
+species in Ireland; regular, but loose and careless in the observances
+of his church, he could not be taxed with any positive neglect of
+pastoral duty. He held his stations at stated times and places, with
+great exactness, but when the severer duties annexed to them were
+performed, he relaxed into the boon companion, sang his song, told his
+story, laughed his laugh, and occasionally danced his dance, the very
+_beau ideal_ of a rough, shrewd, humorous divine, who, amidst the
+hilarity of convivial mirth, kept an eye to his own interest, and
+sweetened the severity with which he exacted his “dues” by a manner at
+once jocose and familiar. If a wealthy farmer had a child to christen,
+his reverence declined baptizing it in the chapel, but as a proof of his
+marked respect for its parents, he and his curate did them the honor
+of performing the ceremony at their own house. If a marriage was to
+be solemnized, provided the parties were wealthy, he adopted the same
+course, and manifested the same flattering marks of his particular
+esteem for the parties, by attending at their residence; or if they
+preferred the pleasure of a journey to his own house, he and his curate
+accompanied them home from the same motives. This condescension, whilst
+it raised the pride of the parties, secured a good dinner and a pleasant
+evening's entertainment for the priests, enhanced their humility
+exceedingly, for the more they enjoyed themselves, the more highly did
+their friends consider themselves honored. This mode of life might, one
+would suppose, lessen their importance and that personal respect which
+is entertained for the priests by the people; but it is not so--the
+priests can, the moment such scenes are ended, pass, with the greatest
+aptitude of habit, into the hard, gloomy character of men who are
+replete with profound knowledge, exalted piety, and extraordinary power.
+The sullen frown, the angry glance, or the mysterious allusion to the
+omnipotent authority of the church, as vested in their persons, joined
+to some unintelligible dogma, laid down as their authority, are always
+sufficient to check anything derogatory towards them, which is apt to
+originate in the unguarded moments of conviviality.
+
+“Plase your Reverence, I'll put him up myself,” said Denis to Father
+Finnerty, as he took his horse by the bridle, and led him towards the
+stable, “and how is my cowlt doin' wid you, sir?”
+
+“Troublesome, Denis; he was in a bad state when I got him, and he'll
+cost me nearly his price before I have him thoroughly broke.”
+
+“He was pretty well broke wid me, I know,” replied Denis, “and I'm
+afear'd you've given him into the hands of some one that knows little
+about horses. Mave,” he shouted, passing the kitchen door, “here's
+Father Finnerty--go in, Docthor, and put big Brian Buie out o' the
+corner; for goodness sake Exltimnicate him from the hob--an' sure you
+have power to do that any way.”
+
+The priest laughed, but immediately assuming a grave face, as he
+entered, exclaimed--
+
+“Brian Buie, in the name of the forty-seventh proposition of Euclid's
+Elements--in the name of the cube and square roots--of Algebra,
+Mathematics, Fluxions, and the doctrine of all essential spirits that
+admit of proof--in the name of Nebuchadanezar the divine, who invented
+the convenient scheme of taking a cold collation under a hedge--by the
+power of that profound branch of learning, the Greek Digemma--by the
+authority of true Latin, primo, of Beotian Greek, secundo, and of
+Arabian Hebrew, tertio; which is, when united by the skill of profound
+erudition, primo, secundo, tertio; or, being reversed by the logic of
+illustration, _tertio, secundo, primo. Commando te in nomine
+botteli potheeni boni drinkandi his oedibus, hac note, inter amicos
+excellentissimi amici mei, Dionissii O'Shaughnessy, quem beknavavi ex
+excellentissimo colto ejus, causa pedantissimi filii ejus, designali
+eccleseae, patri, sed nequaquam deo, nec naturae, nec ingenio;--commando
+te inquam, Bernarde Buie, surgere, stare, ambulare, et decedere e
+cornero isto vel hobbo, qua nunc sedes!_ Yes, I command thee, Brian
+Buie, who sit upon the hob of my worthy and most excellent friend and
+parishioner, Denis O'Shaughnessy, to rise, to stand up before your
+spiritual superior, to walk down from it, and to tremble as if you were
+about to sink into the earth to the neck, but no further; before the
+fulminations of him who can wield the thunder of that mighty Salmoneus,
+his holiness the Pope, successor to St. Peter, who left the servant of
+the Centurion earless--I command and objurgate thee, sinner as thou art,
+to vacate your seat on the hob for the man of sancity, whose legitimate
+possession it is, otherwise I shall send you, like that worthy
+archbishop, the aforesaid Nebuchadanezar, to live upon leeks for seven
+years in the renowned kingdom of Wales, where the leeks may be seen to
+this day! Presto!”
+
+These words, pronounced with a grave face, in a loud, rapid, and
+sonorous tone of voice, startled the good people of the house, who sat
+mute and astonished at such an exordium from the worthy pastor: but no
+sooner had he uttered Brian Buie's name, giving him, at the same time, a
+fierce and authoritative look, than the latter started to his feet, and
+stepped down in a kind of alarm towards the door. The priest immediately
+placed his hand upon his shoulder in a mysterious manner, exclaiming--
+
+“Don't be alarmed, Brian, I have taken the force of the anathema off
+you; your power to sit or stand, or go where you please, is returned
+again. I wanted your seat, and Denis desired, me to excommunicate you
+out of it, which I did, and you accordingly left it without your own
+knowledge, consent, or power; I transferred you to where you stand, and
+you had no more strength to resist me than if you were an infant not
+three hours in the world!”
+
+“I ax God's pardon, an' your Reverence's,” said Brian, in a tremor,
+“if I have given offince. Now, bless my soul! what's this? As sure as I
+stand before you, neighbors, I know neither act nor part of how I was
+brought from the hob at all--neither act nor part! Did any of yez see me
+lavin' it; or how did I come here--can you tell me?”
+
+“Paddy,” said one of his friends, “did you see him?”
+
+“The sorra one o' me seen him,” replied Paddy: “I was lookin' at his
+Reverence, sthrivin' to know what he was sayin'.”
+
+“Pether, did you?” another inquired. “Me! I never seen a stim of him
+till he was standin' alone on the flure! Sure, when he didn't see or
+find himself goin', how could another see him?”
+
+“Glory be to God!” exclaimed Mave; “one ought to think well what they
+say, when they spake of the clargy, for they don't know what it may
+bring down upon them, sooner or later!”
+
+“Our Denis will be able to do that yet,” said Susan to her elder sister.
+
+“To be sure he will, girsha, as soon as he's ordained--every bit as well
+as Father Finnerty,” replied Mary.
+
+The young enthusiast's countenance brightened as her sister spoke: her
+dark eye became for a minute or two fixed upon vacancy, during which
+it flashed several times; until, as the images of her brother's
+future glory passed before her imagination; she became wrapt--her lip
+quivered--her cheek flushed into a deeper color, and the tears burst in
+gushes from her eyes.
+
+The mother, who was now engaged in welcoming Father Finnerty--a
+duty which the priest's comic miracle prevented her from performing
+sooner--did not perceive her daughter's agitation, nor, in fact, did
+any one present understand its cause. Whilst the priest was taking Brian
+Buie's seat, she went once more to watch the return of Denis; and while
+she stood upon the stile, her father, after having put up the horse,
+entered the house, “to keep his Reverence company.”
+
+“An' pray, Docthor,” he inquired, “where is Father Molony, that he's not
+wid you? I hope he won't disappoint us; he's a mighty pleasant gintleman
+of an evenin', an', barrin' your Reverence, I don't know a man tells a
+better story.”
+
+“He entreated permission from me this morning,” replied Father Finnerty,
+“and that was leave to pay a visit to the Bishop, for what purpose I
+know not, unless to put in a word in season for the first parish that
+becomes vacant.”
+
+“Throth, an' he well desarves a parish,” replied Denis; “an' although
+we'd be loath to part wid him, still we'd be proud to hear of his
+promotion.”
+
+“He'll meet Denis there,” observed Susan, who had returned from the
+stile: “he'll be apt to be present at his trial wid the Bishop; an'
+maybe he'll be home along wid him. I'll go an' thry if I can see them
+agin;” and she flew out once more to watch their return.
+
+“Now, Father Finnerty,” said an uncle of Denis's, “you can give a good
+guess at what a dacent parish ought to be worth to a parish priest?”
+
+“Mrs. O'Shaughnessy,” said the priest, “is that fat brown goose
+suspended before the fire, of your own rearing?”
+
+“Indeed it is, plase your Reverence; but as far as good male an phaties
+could go for the last month, it got the benefit of them.”
+
+“And pray, Mrs. O'Shaughnessy, have you many of the same kidney? I only
+ask for information, as I said to Peery Hacket's wife, the last day I
+held the Station in Peery's. There was just such another goose hanging
+before the fire; but, you must know, the cream of the joke was, that I
+had been after coming from the confessional, as hungry as a man could
+conveniently wish himself; and seeing the brown fat goose before the
+fire just as that is, why my teeth, Mave, began to get lachrymose. Upon
+my Priesthood it was such a goose as a priest's corpse might get up on
+its elbow to look at, and exclaim, 'avourneen machree, it's a thousand
+pities that I'm not living to have a cut at you!'--ha, ha, ha! God be
+good to old Friar Hennessy, I have that joke from him.
+
+“'Well, Mrs. Hacket,' says I, as I was airing my fingers at the fire, 'I
+dare say you haven't another goose like this about the house? Now, tell
+me, like an honest woman, have you any of the same kidney?--I only ask
+for information.'
+
+“Mrs. Hacket, however, told me she believed there might be a few of the
+same kind straggling about the place, but said nothing further upon it,
+until the Saturday following, when her son brings me down a pair of
+the fattest geese I ever cut up for my Sunday's dinner. Now, Mrs.
+O'Shaughnessy, wasn't that doing the thing dacent?”
+
+“Well, well, Docthor,” said Denis, “that was all right; let Mave
+alone, an' maybe she'll be apt to find out a pair that will match Mrs.
+Hacket's. Not that I say it, but she doesn't like to be outdone in
+anything.”
+
+“Docthor, I was wishin' to know, sir,” continued the uncle of the absent
+candidate, “what the value of a good parish might be.”
+
+“I think, Mave, there's a discrepancy between the goose and the shoulder
+of mutton. The fact is, that if it be a disputation between them, as to
+which will be roasted first, I pronounce that the goose will have it.
+It's now, let me see, half past four o'clock, and, in my opinion, it
+will take a full half hour to bring up the mutton. So Mave, if you'll
+be guided by your priest, advance the mutton towards the fire about two
+inches, and keep the little girsha basting steadily, and then you'll be
+sure to have it rich and juicy.”
+
+“Docthor, wid submission, I was wantin' to know what a good parish might
+be--”
+
+“Mike Lawdher, if I don't mistake, you ought to have good grazing down
+in your meadows at Ballinard. What will you be charging for a month
+or two's grass for this colt I've bought from my dacent friend, Denis
+O'Shaughnessy, here? And, Mike, be rasonable upon a poor man, for we're
+all poor, being only tolerated by the state we live under, and ought
+not, of course, to be hard upon one another.”
+
+“An' what did he cost you, Docthor?” replied Mike, answering one
+question by another; “what did you get for him, Denis?” he continued,
+referring for information to Denis, to whom, on reflection, he thought
+it more decorous to put the question.
+
+Denis, however, felt the peculiar delicacy of his situation, and looked
+at the priest, whilst the latter, under a momentary embarrassment,
+looked significantly at Denis. His Reverence, however, was seldom at a
+loss.
+
+“What would you take him to be worth, Mike?” he asked; “remember he's
+but badly trained, and I'm sure it will cost me both money and trouble
+to make anything dacent out of him.”
+
+“If you got him somewhere between five and twenty and thirty guineas, I
+would say you have good value for your money, plase your Reverence. What
+do you say, Denis--am I near it?”
+
+“Why, Mike, you know as much about a horse as you do about the
+Pentateuch or Paralipomenon. Five and twenty guineas, indeed! I hope you
+won't set your grass as you would sell your horses.”
+
+“Why, thin, if your Reverence ped ready money for him, I maintain he
+was as well worth twenty guineas as a thief's worth the gallows; an'
+you know, sir, I'd be long sorry to differ wid you. Am I near it now,
+Docthor?”
+
+“Denis got for the horse more than that,” said his Reverence, “and he
+may speak for himself.”
+
+“Thrue for you, sir,” replied Denis; “I surely got above twenty guineas
+for him, an' I'm well satisfied wid the bargain.”
+
+“You hear that now, Mike--you hear what he says.”
+
+“There's no goin' beyant it,” returned Mike; “the proof o' the puddin'
+is in the atin,' as we'll soon know, Mave--eh, Docthor?”
+
+“I never knew Mave to make a bad one,” said the priest, “except upon the
+day Friar Hennessy dined with me here--my curate was sick, and I had
+to call in the Friar to assist me at confession; however, to do Mave
+justice, it was not her fault, for the Friar drowned the pudding, which
+was originally a good one, with a deluge of strong whiskey.”
+
+“'It's too gross,' said the facetious Friar, in his loud, strong
+voice--'it's too gross, Docthor Finnerty, so let us spiritualize it,
+that it may be Christian atin, fit for pious men to digest,' and then he
+came out with his thundering laugh--oigh, oigh, oigh, oigh! but he had
+consequently the most of the pudding to himself, an' indeed brought the
+better half of it home in his saddle-bags.”
+
+“Faix, an' he did,” said Mave, “an' a fat goose that he coaxed Mary to
+kill for him unknownst to us all, in the coorse o' the day.”
+
+“How long is he dead, Docthor?” said Denis; “God rest him any way, he's
+happy!”
+
+“He died in the hot summer, now nine years about June last; and talking
+about him, reminds me of a trick he put on me about two years before his
+death. He and I had not been on good terms for long enough before that
+time; but as the curate I had was then sickly, and as I wouldn't be
+allowed two, I found that it might be convenient to call in the Friar
+occasionally, a regulation he did not at all relish, for he said he
+could make far more by questing and poaching about among the old women
+of the parish, with whom he was a great favorite, in consequence of the
+Latin hymns he used to sing for them, and the great cures he used to
+perform--a species of devotion which neither I nor my curate had time to
+practise. So, in order to renew my intimacy, I sent him a bag of oatmeal
+and a couple of flitches of bacon, both of which he readily accepted,
+and came down to me on the following day to borrow three guineas. After
+attempting to evade him--for, in fact, I had not the money to spare--he
+at length succeeded in getting them from me, on the condition that
+he was to give my curate's horse and mine a month's grass, by way of
+compensation, for I knew that to expect payment from him was next to
+going for piety to a parson.
+
+“'I will,' said he, 'give your horses the run of my best field'--for
+he held a comfortable bit of ground; 'but,' he added, 'as you have been
+always cutting at me about my principle, I must insist, if it was only
+to convince you of my ginerosity, that you'll lave the choosing of the
+month to myself.'
+
+“As I really wanted an assistant at the time, in consequence of my
+curate's illness, he had me bound, in some degree, to his own will. I
+accordingly gave him the money; but from that till the day of his death,
+he never sent for our horses, except when there was a foot and a half of
+snow on the ground, at which time he was certain to despatch a messenger
+for him, 'with Father Hennessy's compliments, and he requested Doctor
+Finnerty to send the horses to Father Hennessy's field, to ate their
+month's grass.'”
+
+“But is it true, Docthor, that his face was shinin' after his death?”
+
+“True enough, and to my own knowledge, long before that event.”
+
+“Dear me,” exclaimed Mave, “he was a holy man afther all!”
+
+“Undoubtedly he was,” said the priest; “there are spots in the sun, Mrs.
+O'Shaugh-nessy--we are not all immaculate. There never was one sent
+into this world without less or more sin upon them. Even the saints
+themselves had venial touches about them, but nothing to signify.”
+
+“Docthor,” said the uncle, pertinaciously adhering to the original
+question, “you have an opportunity of knowin' what a good parish might
+be worth to a smart, active priest? For the sake of a son of mine that
+I've some notion of--”
+
+“By the by, I wonder Denis is not here before now,” exclaimed his
+Reverence, lending a deaf ear to Mike O'Shaughnessy's interrogatory.
+
+Old Denis's favorite topic had been started, and he accordingly launched
+out upon it with all the delight and ardor of a fond father.
+
+“Now, Docthor dear, before us all--an' sure you know as well as I do,
+that we're all friends together--what's your downright opinion of Denis?
+Is he as bright as you tould me the other mornin' he was?”
+
+“Really, Denis O'Shaughnessy,” replied his Reverence, “it's not pleasant
+to me to be pressed so often to eulogize a young gintleman of whose
+talents I have so frequently expressed my opinion. Is not once
+sufficient for me to say what I've said concerning him? But, as we
+are all present, I now say and declare, that my opinion of Denis
+O'Shaughnessy, jun., is decidedly _peculiar_--decidedly.
+
+“Come, girsha, keep basting the mutton, and never heed my boots--turn it
+about and baste the back of it better.”
+
+“God be thanked,” exclaimed the delighted father, “sure it's comfort to
+hear that, any how--afther all the pains and throuble we've taken wid
+him, to know it's not lost. Why, that boy was so smart, Docthor, that,
+may I never sin, when he went first to the Latin, but--an' this no lie,
+for I have it from his own lips--when he'd look upon his task two or
+three times over night, he'd waken wid every word of it, pat off the
+book the next mornin'. And how do you think he got it? Why, the crathur,
+you see, used to dhrame that he was readin' it off, and so he used to
+get it that way in his sleep!”
+
+At this moment Darby Moran, Denis's old foe entered, and his reception
+was cordial, and, if the truth were known, almost magnanimous on the
+part of Denis.
+
+“Darby Moran,” said he, “not a man, barrin' his Reverence here, in the
+parish we sit in, that I'm prouder to see on my flure--give me your
+hand, man alive, and Mave and all of ye welcome him. Everything of what
+you know is buried between us, and you're bound to welcome him, if
+it was only in regard of the handsome way he spoke of our son this
+day--here's my own chair, Darby, and sit down.”
+
+“Throth,” said Darby, after shaking hands with the priest and greeting
+the rest of the company, “the same boy no one could spake ill of; and,
+although we and his people were not upon the best footin', still the
+sarra one o' me but always gave him his due.”
+
+“Indeed, I believe you, Darby,” said his father; “but are you
+comfortable? Draw your chair nearer the fire--the evenin's gettin'
+cowld.”
+
+“I'm very well, Denis, I thank you;--nearer the fire! Faix, except you
+want to have me roasted along wid that shoulder of mutton and goose, I
+think I can't go much nearer it.”
+
+“I'm sorry, you wasn't in sooner, Darby, till you'd hear what Docthor
+Finnerty here--God spare him long among us--said of Denis a while ago.
+Docthor, if it wouldn't be makin' too free, maybe you'd oblage me wid
+repatin' it over again?”
+
+“I can never have any hesitation,” replied the priest, “in repeating
+anything to his advantage--I stated, Darby, that young Misther
+O'Shaughnessy was a youth of whom my opinion was decidedly
+_peculiar_--keep basting; child, you're forgetting the goose now; did
+you never see a priest's boots before?”
+
+“An' nobody has a better right to know nor yourself, wherever larnin'
+and education's consarned,” said the father.
+
+“Why, it's not long since I examined him myself; I say it sitting here,
+and I believe every one that hears me is present; and during the course
+of the examination I was really astonished. The translations, and
+derivations, and conjugations, and ratiocinations, and variations, and
+investigations that he gave, were all the most remarkably original
+I ever heard. He would not be contented with the common sense of a
+passage; but he'd keep hunting, and hawking, and fishing about for
+something that was out of the ordinary course of reading, that I was
+truly struck with his eccentric turn of genius.”
+
+“You think he'll pass the Bishop with great credit, Docthor?”
+
+“I'll tell you what I think, Denis--which is going further than I went
+yet--I think that if he were the Bishop, and the Bishop the candidate
+for Maynooth, that his lordship would have but a poor chance of passing.
+There's the pinnacle of my eulogium upon him; and now, to give my
+opinion on another important subject; I pronounce both the goose and
+mutton done to a turn. As it appears that Mrs. O'Shaughnessy has every
+other portion of the dinner ready, I move that we commence operations as
+soon as possible.”
+
+“But Denis, Docthor? it would be a pleasure to me to have him, poor
+fellow, wid all his throuble over, and his mind at ase; maybe if we wait
+a weeshy while longer, Docthor, that he'll come, and you know Father
+Molony too is to come yet, and some more of our friends.”
+
+“If the examination was a long one, I tell you that Mr. O'Shaughnessy
+may not be here this hour to come; and you may be sure, the Bishop,
+meeting such a bright boy, wouldn't make it a short one. As for Father
+Molony, he'll be here time enough, so I move again that we attack the
+citadel.”
+
+“Well, well, never say it again--the sarra one o' me will keep it back,
+myself bein' as ripe as any of you, barrin' his Reverence, that we're not
+to take the foreway of in anything. Ha! ha! ha!”
+
+Whilst Mave and her daughters were engaged in laying dinner, and in
+making all the other arrangements necessary for their comfort, the
+priest took Denis aside, and thus addressed him:--
+
+“Denis, I need scarcely remark that this meeting of our friends is upon
+no common occasion; that it's neither a wedding, nor a Station, nor a
+christening, but a gathering of relations for a more honorable purpose
+than any of them, excepting the Station, which you know is a religious
+rite. I just mention this privately, lest you might not be properly on
+your guard, and to prevent any appearance of maneness; or--in short, I
+hope you have abundance of everything; I hope you have, and that, not
+for your own sake so much as for that of your son. Remember your boy,
+and what he's designed for, and don't let the dinner or its concomitants
+be discreditable to him; for, in fact, it's his dinner, observe, and not
+yours.”
+
+“I'm thankful, I'm deeply thankful, an' for ever oblaged to your
+Reverence for your kindness; although, widout at all makin' little of
+it, it wasn't wanted here; never fear, Docthor, there'll be lashings and
+lavins.”
+
+“Well, but make that clear, Denis; here now are near two dozen of us,
+and you say there are more to come, and all the provision I see for
+them is a shoulder of mutton, a goose, and something in that large pot
+on the fire, which I suppose is hung beef.”
+
+“Thrue for you, sir, but you don't know that we've got a tarin' fire
+down in the barn, where there's two geese more and two shouldhers of
+mutton to help what you seen--not to mintion a great big puddin', an'
+lots of other things. Sure you might notice Mave and the girls runnin'
+in an' out to attind the cookin' of it.”
+
+“Enough, Denis, that's sufficient; and now, between you and me, I say
+your son will be the load-star of Maynooth, winch out-tops anything I
+said of him yet.”
+
+“There's a whole keg of whiskey, Docthor.”
+
+“I see nothing, to prevent him from being a bishop; indeed, it's almost
+certain, for he can't be kept back.”
+
+“I only hope your Reverence will be livin' when he praches his first
+sarmon. I have the dam of the coult still, an a wink's as good as a nod,
+please your Reverence.”
+
+“A strong letter in his favor to the President of Maynooth will do him
+no harm,” said the priest.
+
+They then joined their other friends, and in a few minutes an excellent
+dinner, plain and abundant, was spread out upon the table. It consisted
+of the usual materials which constitute an Irish feast in the house of
+a wealthy farmer, whose pride it is to compel every guest to eat so
+long as he can swallow a morsel. There were geese and fowl of all
+kinds--shoulders of mutton, laughing-potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and
+cabbage, together with an immense pudding, boiled in a clean sheet,
+and ingeniously kept together with long straws* drawn through it in all
+directions. A lord or duke might be senseless enough to look upon such
+a substantial, yeoman-like meal with a sneer; but with all their wealth
+and elegance, perhaps they might envy the health and appetite of those
+who partook of it. When Father Finnerty had given a short grace, and the
+operations of the table were commenced,--Denis looked around him with a
+disappointed air, and exclaimed:
+
+“Father Finnerty, there's only one thing, indeed I may say two, a
+wantin' to complate our happiness--I mean Denis and Father Molony! What
+on earth does your Reverence think can keep them?”
+
+     * This, about thirty years ago, was usual at weddings
+     and other feasts, where everything went upon a large
+     scale.
+
+To this he received not a syllable of reply, nor did he consider it
+necessary to urge the question any further at present. Father Finnerty's
+powers of conversation seemed to have abandoned him; for, although
+there were some few expressions loosely dropped, yet the worthy priest
+maintained an obstinate silence.
+
+At length, in due time, he began to let fall an occasional remark,
+impeded considerably by hiccups, and an odd _Deo Gratias_, or _Laus
+Deo_, uttered in that indecisive manner which indicates the position of
+a man who debates within himself whether he ought to rest satisfied or
+not.
+
+At this moment the tramping of a horse was heard approaching the door,
+and immediately every one of Denis's family ran out to ascertain whether
+it was the young candidate. Loud and clamorous was their joy on finding
+that they were not mistaken; he was alone, and, on arriving at the door,
+dismounted slowly, and received their welcomes and congratulations with
+a philosophy which perplexed them not a little. The scene of confusion
+which followed his entrance into the house could scarcely be conceived:
+every hand was thrust out to welcome him, and every tongue loud in
+wishing him joy and happiness. The chairs and stools were overturned as
+they stood in the way of those who wished to approach him; plates fell
+in the bustle, and wooden trenchers trundled along the ground; the dogs,
+on mingling with the crowd that surrounded him, were kicked angrily from
+among them by those who had not yet got shaking hands with Denis. Father
+Finnerty, during this commotion, kept his seat in the most dignified
+manner; but the moment it had subsided he stretched out his hand to
+Denis, exclaiming:
+
+“Mr. O'Shaughnessy, I congratulate you upon the event of this auspicious
+day! I wish you joy and happiness!”
+
+“So do we all, over and over agin!” they exclaimed; “a proud gintleman
+he may be this night!”
+
+“I thank you, Father Finnerty,” said Denis, “and I thank you all!”
+
+“Denis, avourneen,” said his mother, “sit down an' ate a hearty dinner;
+you must be both tired and hungry, so sit down, avick, and when you're
+done you can tell us all.”
+
+“_Bonum concilium, mi chare Dionysi_--the advice is good, Mrs.
+O'Shaughnessy, and I myself will, in honor of this day, although I
+have already dined, just take another slice;” and as he spoke he helped
+himself. “Anything to honor a friend,” he continued; “but, by the by,
+before I commence, I will try your own prescription, Denis--a whetter of
+this poteen at intervals. Hoch, that's glorious stuff--pure as any one
+of the cardinal virtues, and strong as fortitude, which is the champion
+of them all.”
+
+Denis, during these pleasant observations of the priest, sat silent,
+with a countenance pale and apparently dejected. When his mother had
+filled his plate, he gently put it away from him; but poured out a
+little spirits and water, which he drank.
+
+“I cannot eat a morsel,” said he; “mother, don't press me, it's
+impossible. We are all assembled here--friends, neighbors, and
+relations--I'll not disguise the fact--but the truth is, I have been
+badly treated this day; I have been, in the most barefaced manner,
+rejected by the Bishop, and a nephew of Father Molony's elected in my
+place.”
+
+The effect which this disclosure produced upon the company present,
+especially upon his own family, utterly defies description. His father
+hastily laid down his glass, and his eyes opened to the utmost stretch
+of their lids; his mother let a plate fall which she was in the act of
+handing to one of her daughters, who was about to help a poor beggar at
+the door; all convivial enjoyment was suspended; the priest laid down
+his knife and fork, and fixed his large eyes upon Denis, with his
+mouth full; his young sister, Susan, flew over to his side, and looked
+intensely into his countenance for an explanation of what he meant, for
+she had not properly understood him.
+
+“Rejected!” exclaimed the priest--“rejected! Young man, I am your
+spiritual superior, and I command you, on this occasion, to practise
+no jocularity whatsoever--I lay it upon you as a religious duty to be
+serious and candid, to speak truth, and inform us at once whether what
+you have advanced be true or not?”
+
+“I wish,” said Denis, “that it was only jocularity on my part; but
+I solemnly assure you all that it is not. The Bishop told me that I
+suffered myself to be misled as to my qualifications for entrance;
+he says it will take a year and a half's hard study to enable me to
+matriculate with a good grace. I told him that your Reverence examined
+me, and said I was well prepared; and he said to me, in reply, that your
+Reverence was very little of a judge as to my fitness.”
+
+“Very well,” said the priest, “I thank his lordship; 'tis true, I
+deserved that from him; but it can't be helped. I see, at all events,
+how the land lies. Denis O'Shaughnessy, I pronounce you to be, in the
+first place, an extremely stultified and indiscreet young man; and,
+in the next place, as badly treated and as oppressed a candidate for
+Maynooth as entered it. I pronounce you, in the face of the world, right
+well prepared for it; but I see now who is the spy of the diocese--oh,
+oh, thank you, Misther Molony--I now remimber, that he is related to his
+lordship through the beggarly clan of the M----'s. But wait a little;
+if I have failed here, thank Heaven I have interest in the next diocese,
+the Bishop of which is my cousin, and we will yet have a tug for it.”
+
+The mother and sisters of Denis were now drowned in tears; and the grief
+of his sister Susan was absolutely hysterical. Old Denis's brow became
+pale and sorrowful, his eye sunk, and his hand trembled. His friends
+all partook of this serious disappointment, and sat in silence and
+embarrassment around the table. Young Denis's distress was truly
+intense: he could not eat a morsel; his voice was tremulous with
+vexation; and, indeed, altogether the aspect of those present betokened
+the occurrence of some grievous affliction.
+
+“Well,” said Brian, Denis's elder brother, “I only say this, that it's
+a good story for him to tell that he is a Bishop, otherwise I'd think no
+more of puttin' a bullet through him from behind a hedge, than I would
+of shootin' a cur dog.”
+
+“Don't say that, Brian,” said his mother; “bad as it is, he's one of our
+clargy, so don't spake disrespectful of him; sure a year is not much to
+wait, an' the next time you go before him it won't be in his power to
+keep you back. As for Father Molony, we wish, him well, but undher the
+roof of this house, except at a Station, or something else of the kind,
+he will never sit, barrin' I thought it was either dhry or hungry, that
+I wouldn't bring evil upon my substance by refusin' him.”
+
+“And that was his lordship's character of me?” inquired the priest once
+more with chagrin.
+
+“If that was not, perhaps you will find it in this letter,” replied
+Denis, handing him a written communication from the Bishop. Father
+Finnerty hastily broke open the seal, and read silently as follows:--
+
+
+“_To the Rev. Father Finnerty, peace, and benediction._
+
+“Rev. Sir,
+
+“I feel deep indignation at hearing the disclosure made to me this
+day by the bearer, touching your negotiation with him and his family,
+concerning a horse, as the value paid by them to you for procuring the
+use of my influence in his favor; and I cannot sufficiently reprobate
+such a transaction, nor find terms strong enough in which to condemn the
+parties concerned in it. Sir, I repeat it, that such juggling is
+more reprehensible on your part than on theirs, and that it is doubly
+disrespectful to me, to suppose that I could be influenced by anything
+but merit in the candidates. I desire you will wait upon me to-morrow,
+when I hope you may be able to place the transaction in such a light as
+will raise you once more to the estimation in which I have always held
+you. There are three other candidates, one of whom is a relation of
+your excellent curate's; but I have as yet made no decision, so that the
+appointment is still open. In the meantime, I command you to send back
+the horse to his proper owner, as soon after the receipt of this
+as possible, for O'Shaughnessy must not be shackled by any such
+stipulations. I have now to ask your Christian forgiveness, for having,
+under the influence of temporary anger, spoken of you before this
+lad with disrespect. I hereby make restitution, and beg that you will
+forgive me, and remember me by name in your prayers, as I shall also
+name you in mine.
+
+“I am, etc.,
+
+“+ James M.”
+
+
+When Father Finnerty read this letter, his countenance gradually assumed
+an expression of the most irresistible humor; nothing could be more
+truly comic than the significant look he directed toward each individual
+of the O'Shaughnessys, not omitting even the little boy who had basted
+the goose, whom he patted on the head with that mechanical abstraction
+resulting from the occurrence of something highly agreeable. The cast of
+his features was now the more ludicrous, when contrasted with the rueful
+visage he presented on hearing the manner in which his character had
+been delineated by the Bishop. At length he laid himself back in his
+chair, and putting his hands to his sides, fairly laughed out loudly for
+near five minutes.
+
+“Oh!” he exclaimed, “Dionysius, Dionysius, but you are the simple and
+unsophisticated youth! Oh, you _bocaun_ of the wide earth, to come home
+with a long face upon you, telling us that you were rejected, and you
+not rejected.”
+
+“Not rejected!--not rejecet!--not rejeckset!--not raxjaxet!” they all
+exclaimed, attempting to pronounce the word as well as they could.
+
+“For the sake of heaven above us, Docthor, don't keep us in doubt one
+minute longer,” said old Denis.
+
+“Follow me,” said the priest, becoming instantly grave, “follow me,
+Dionysius; follow me Denis More, and Brian, all follow--follow me. I
+have news for you! My friends, we'll be back instantly.”
+
+They accordingly passed into another room, where they remained in close
+conference for about a quarter of an hour, after which they re-entered
+in the highest spirits.
+
+“Come,” said Denis, “Pether, go over, _abouchal_, to Andy Bradagh's
+for Larry Cassidy the piper--fly like a swallow, Pether, an' don't come
+without him. Mave, achora, all's right. Susy, you darlin', dhry your
+eyes, avourneen, all's right. Nabors, friends--fill, fill--I say all's
+right still. My son's not disgraced, nor he won't be disgraced whilst
+I have a house over my head, or a beast in my stable. Docthor, reverend
+Docthor, drink; may I never sin, but you must get merry an' dance a
+'cut-along' wid myself, when the music comes, and you must thrip the
+priest in his boots wid Susy here afther. Excuse me, nabors--Docthor,
+you won't blame me, there's both joy and sorrow in these tears. I have
+had a good family of childhre, an' a faithful wife; an' Mave, achora,
+although time has laid his mark upon you as well as upon myself, and the
+locks are gray that wor once as black as a raven: yet, Mave, I seen the
+day, an' there's many livin' to prove it--ay, Mave, I seen the day
+when you wor worth lookin' at--the wild rose of Lisbuie she was called,
+Docthor. Well, Mave, I hope that my eyes may be closed by the hands
+I loved an' love so well--an' that's your own, _agrab machree_, an'
+Denis's.”
+
+“Whisht, Denis asthore,” said Mave, wiping her eyes, “I hope I'll never
+see that day. Afther seein' Denis here, what we all hope him to be, the
+next thing I wish is, that I may never live to see my husband taken away
+from me, acushla; no, I hope God will take me to himself before that
+comes.”
+
+There is something touching in the burst of pathetic affection which
+springs strongly from the heart of a worthy couple, when, seated among
+their own family, the feelings of the husband and father, the wife and
+mother, overpower them. In this case, the feeling is always deep in
+proportion to the strength and purity of domestic affection; still it is
+checked by the melancholy satisfaction that our place is to be filled by
+those who are dear to us.
+
+“But now,” said the priest, “that the scent lies still warm, let me ask
+you, Dionysius, how the Bishop came to understand the compactum?”
+
+“I really cannot undertake to say,” replied Denis; “but if any man has
+an eye like a _basileus_ he has. On finding, sir, that there was some
+defect in my responsive powers, he looked keenly at me, closing his
+piercing-eyes a little, and inquired upon what ground I had presented
+myself as a candidate. I would have sunk the compactum altogether, but
+for the eye. I suspended and hesitated a little, and at length told him
+that there was an understanding--a--a--kind of--in short, he squeezed
+the whole secret out o' me gradationally. You know the result!”
+
+“Ah, Dionysius, you are yet an unfledged bird; but it matters little.
+All will be rectified soon.”
+
+“Arrah, Dinis,” inquired his mother, “was it only takin' a rise out of
+us you wor all the time? Throth, myself's not the betther of the fright
+you put me into.”
+
+“No,” replied Denis, “the Bishop treated me harshly, I thought: he said
+I was not properly fit. 'You might pass,' said he, 'upon a particular
+occasion, or under peculiar circumstances; but it will take at least a
+year and a half's study to enable you to enter Maynooth as I would wish
+you. You may go home again,' said he; 'at present I have dismissed the
+subject.'
+
+“After this, on meeting Father Molony, he told me that his cousin had
+passed, and that he would be soon sent up to Maynooth: so I concluded
+all hope was over with me; but I didn't then know what the letter to
+Father Finnerty contained. I now see that I may succeed still.”
+
+“You may and shall, Denis; but no thanks to Father Molony for that:
+however, I shall keep my eye upon the same curate, never fear. Well, let
+that pass, and now for harmony, conviviality, and friendship. Gentlemen,
+fill your glasses--I mean your respective vessels. Come, Denis More, let
+that porringer of yours be a brimmer. Ned Hanratty, charge your noggin.
+Darby, although your mug wants an ear, it can hold the full of it. Mrs.
+O'Shaughnessy, that old family cruiskeen ought to be with your husband:
+but no matther--_non constat_--Eh? Dionysi? Intelligible?”
+
+“_Intelligo, domine_.”
+
+“Here then is health, success, and prosperity to Mr. Dionysius
+O'Shaughnessy, jun.! May he soon be on the Retreat in the vivacious
+walls of that learned and sprightly seminary, Maynooth! * On the
+Retreat, I say, getting fat upon half a meal a day for the first week,
+fasting tightly against the grain, praying sincerely for a settin' at
+the king's mutton, and repenting thoroughly of his penitence!”
+
+     * This is a passage which I fear few general readers
+     will understand without explanation; the meaning is
+     this:--When a young-man first enters Maynooth College
+     he devotes himself for the space of eight days to
+     fasting and prayer, separating himself as much as
+     possible from all society. He must review his whole
+     life, and ascertain, it he can, whether he has ever
+     left any sin of importance unconfessed, either
+     knowingly or by an emission that was culpably
+     negligent. After this examination, which must be both
+     severe and strict, he makes what is called a General
+     Confession; that is, he confesses all the sins he ever
+     committed as far back and as accurately as he can
+     recollect them. This being over, he enters upon his
+     allotted duties as a student and in good sooth feels
+     himself in admirable trim for “a set-in at the King's
+     Mutton.”
+
+“Well, Docthor, that is a toast. Denis, have you nothing to say to that?
+Won't you stand up an' thank his Reverence, anyhow?”
+
+“I am really too much oppressed with relaxation,” said Denis, “to return
+thanks in that florid style which would become my pretensions. I cannot,
+however, but thank Father Finnerty for his ingenious and learned toast,
+which does equal honor to his head and heart, and I might superadd,
+to his intellects also; for in drinking toasts, my friends, I always
+elaborate a distinction between strength of head and strength of
+intellect. I now thank you all for having in so liberal a manner drunk
+my health; and in grateful return, I request you will once more fill
+your utensils, and learnedly drink--long life and a mitre to the
+Reverend Father Finnerty, of the Society of St. Dominick, Doctor of
+Divinity and Parochial Priest of this excellent parish!--_Propino tibi
+salutem, Doctor doctissime, reverendissime, et sanctissime; nec non
+omnibus amicis hic congregatis!_”
+
+The priest's eye, during this speech, twinkled with humor; he saw
+clearly that Denis thoroughly understood the raillery of his toast, and
+that the compliment was well repaid. On this subject he did not wish,
+however, to proceed further, and his object now was, that the evening
+should pass off as agreeably as possible.
+
+Next morning Father Finnerty paid Denis a timely visit, having first, as
+he had been directed, sent home the colt a little after day-break. They
+then took an early breakfast, and after about half an hour's further
+deliberation, the priest, old Denis, and his son--the last mounted upon
+the redoubtable colt--proceeded to the Bishop's residence. His lordship
+had nearly finished breakfast, which he took in his study; but as he
+was engaged with his brother, the barrister, who slept at his house the
+night before, in order to attend a public meeting on that day, he
+could not be seen for some time after they arrived. At length they were
+admitted. The Right Reverend Doctor was still seated at the breakfast
+table, dressed in a morning-gown of fine black stuff, such as the
+brothers of the Franciscan order of monks usually wear, to which order
+he belonged. He wore black silk stockings, gold knee-buckles to his
+small-clothes, a rich ruby ring upon his finger, and a small gold cross,
+net with brilliants, about his neck. This last was not usually visible;
+but as he had not yet dressed for the day, it hung over his vest. He
+sat, or rather lolled back in a stuffed easy chair, one leg thrown
+indolently over the other. Though not an old man, he wore powder, which
+gave him an air of greater reverence; and as his features were sharp
+and intelligent, his eye small but keen, and his manner altogether
+impressive and gentlemanly, if not dignified, it was not surprising that
+Father Finnerty's two companions felt awed and embarrassed before him.
+Nor was the priest himself wholly free from that humbling sensation
+which one naturally feels when in the presence of a superior mind in a
+superior station of life.
+
+“Good morning to your lordship!” said the priest, “I am exceedingly
+happy to see you look so well. Counsellor, your most obedient; I hope,
+sir, you are in good health!”
+
+To this both gentlemen replied in the usual commonplace terms.
+
+“Doctor,” continued the priest, “this is a worthy dacent parishioner of
+mine, Denis O'Shaughnessy; and this is his son who has the honor to be
+already known to your lordship.”
+
+“Sit down, O'Shaughnessy,” said the Bishop, “take a seat, young man.”
+
+“I humbly thank your lordship,” replied Denis the elder, taking a chair
+as he spoke, and laying his hat beside him on the carpet. The son, who
+trembled at the moment from head to foot, did not sit as he was asked,
+but the father, after giving him a pluck, said in a whisper, “Can't
+you sit, when his lordship-bids you.” He then took a seat, but appeared
+scarcely to know whether he sat or stood.
+
+“By the by, Doctor, you have improved this place mightily,” continued
+Father Finnerty, “since I had the pleasure of being here last. I thought
+I saw a green-house peeping over the garden-wall.”
+
+“Yes,” replied the Bishop, “I am just beginning to make a collection
+of shrubs and flowers upon a small scale. I believe you are aware that
+tending and rearing flowers, Mr. Finnerty, is a favorite amusement with
+me.”
+
+“I believe I have a good right to know as much, Dr. M------,” replied
+Mr. Finnerty.
+
+“If I don't mistake, I sent you some specimens for your garden that were
+not contemptible. And if I don't mistake again, I shall be able to send
+your lordship a shrub that would take the pearl off a man's eye only to
+look at it. And what's more, it's quite a new-comer; not two years in
+the country.”
+
+“Pray how is it called, Mr. Finnerty.”
+
+“Upon my credit, Doctor, with great respect, I will tell you nothing
+more about it at present. If you wish to see it, or to know its name, or
+to get a slip of it, you must first come and eat a dinner with me. And,
+Counsellor, if you, too, could appear on your own behalf, so much the
+better.”
+
+“I fear I cannot, Mr. Finnerty, but I dare say my brother will do
+himself the pleasure of dining with you.”
+
+“It cannot be for at least six weeks, Mr. Finnerty,” said the Bishop.
+“You forget that the confirmations begin in ten days; but I shall have
+the pleasure of dining with you when I come to confirm in your parish.”
+
+“Phoo! Why, Doctor, that's a matter of course. Couldn't your lordship
+make it convenient to come during the week, and bring the Counsellor
+here with you? Don't say no, Counsellor; I'll have no demurring.”
+
+“Mr. Finnerty,” said the Bishop, “it is impossible at present. My
+brother goes to Dublin to-morrow, and I must go on the following day to
+attend the consecration of a chapel in the metropolis.”
+
+“Then upon my credit, your lordship will get neither the name nor
+description of my Facia, until you earn it by eating a dinner, and
+drinking a glass of claret with the Rev. Father Finnerty. Are those hard
+terms, Counsellor?--Ha! ha! ha! I'm not the man to put off a thing, I
+assure you.”
+
+“Mr. Finnerty,” said the Bishop, smiling at, but not noticing the worthy
+priest's blunder about the Fucia, “if possible, I shall dine with you
+soon; but at present it is out of my power to appoint a day.”
+
+“Well, well, Doctor, make your own time of it; and now for the
+purport of our journey. Denis O'Shaughnessy here, my lord, is a warm,
+respectable parishioner of mine--a man indeed for whom I have a great
+regard. He is reported to have inherited from his worthy father, two
+horns filled with guineas. His grandmother, as he could well inform your
+lordship, was born with a lucky caul upon her, which caul is still in
+the family. Isn't it so, Denis?”
+
+“My lord, in dignity, it's truth,” replied Denis, “and from the time it
+came into the family they always thruv, thanks be to goodness!”
+
+The lawyer sat eyeing the priest and Denis alternately, evidently
+puzzled to comprehend what such a remarkable introduction could lead to.
+
+The Bishop seemed not to be surprised, for his features betrayed no
+change whatsoever.
+
+“Having, therefore, had the necessary means of educating a son for the
+church, he has accordingly prepared this young man with much anxiety and
+expense for Maynooth.”
+
+“Plase your lordship,” said Denis, “Docthor Finnerty is clothin' it
+betther than I could do. My heart is fixed upon seein' him what we all
+expect him to be, your lordship.”
+
+“Mr. Finnerty,” observed the Bishop, “you seem to be intimately
+acquainted with O'Shaughnessy's circumstances; you appear to take a warm
+interest in the family, particularly in the success of his son.”
+
+“Undoubtedly my lord; I am particularly anxious for his success.”
+
+“You received my letter yesterday?”
+
+“I am here to-day, my lord, in consequence of having received it. But,
+by the by, there was, under favor, a slight misconception on the part of
+your--”
+
+“What misconception, sir!”
+
+“Why, my lord--Counsellor, this is a--a--kind of charge his lordship is
+bringing against me, under a slight misconception. My lord, the fact is,
+that I didn't see what ecclesiastical right I had to prevent Denis here
+from disposing of his own property to--”
+
+“I expect an apology from you, Mr. Finnerty, but neither a defence nor
+a justification. An attempt at either will not advance the interests of
+your young friend, believe me.”
+
+“Then I have only to say that the wish expressed in your lordship's
+letter has been complied with. But wait awhile, my lord,” continued the
+priest, good-humoredly, “I shall soon turn the tables on yourself.”
+
+“How is that, pray?”
+
+“Why, my lord, the horse is in your stable, and Denis declares he will
+not take him out of it.”
+
+“I have not the slightest objection to that,” replied the Bishop, “upon
+the express condition that his son shall never enter Maynooth.”
+
+“For my part,” observed Mr. Finnerty, “I leave the matter now between
+your lordship and O'Shaughnessy himself. You may act as you please,
+Doctor, and so may he.”
+
+“Mr. Finnerty, if I could suppose for a moment that the suggestion of
+thus influencing me originated with you, I would instantly deprive you
+of your parish, and make you assistant to your excellent curate, for
+whom I entertain a sincere regard. I have already expressed my opinion
+of the transaction alluded to in my letter. You have frequently offended
+me, Mr. Finnerty, by presuming too far upon my good temper, and by
+relying probably upon your own jocular disposition. Take care, sir, that
+you don't break down in some of your best jokes. I fear that under
+the guise of humor, you frequently avail yourself of the weakness, or
+ignorance, or simplicity of your parishioners. I hope, Mr. Finnerty,
+that while you laugh at the jest, they don't pay for it.”
+
+The priest here caught the Counsellor's eye, and gave him a dry wink,
+not unperceived, however, by the Bishop, who could scarcely repress a
+smile.
+
+“You should have known me better, Mr. Finnerty, than to suppose that any
+motive could influence me in deciding upon the claims of candidates for
+Maynooth, besides their own moral character and literary acquirements.
+So long as I live, this, and this alone, shall be the rule of my
+conduct, touching persons in the circumstances of young O'Shaughnessy.”
+
+“My gracious lord,” said Denis, “don't be angry wid Mr. Finnerty. I'll
+bear it all, for it was my fau't. The horse is mine, and say what
+you will, out of your stable I'll never bring him. I think, wid great
+sibmission a man may do what he pleases wid his own.”
+
+“Certainly,” said the Bishop; “my consent to permit your son to goto
+Maynooth is my own. Now this consent I will not give if you press that
+mode of argument upon me.”
+
+“My Reverend Lord, as heaven's above me, I'd give all I'm worth to see
+the boy in Maynooth. If he doesn't go afther all our hopes, I'd break my
+heart.” He was so deeply affected that the large tears rolled down his
+cheeks as he spoke.
+
+“Will your Lordship buy the horse?” he added; “I don't want him, and
+you, maybe, do?”
+
+“I do not want him,” said the Bishop, “and if I did, I would not, under
+the present circumstances, purchase him from you.”
+
+“Then my boy won't get in, your lordship. And you'll neither buy the
+horse, nor take him as a present. My curse upon him for a horse! The
+first thing I'll do when I get home will be to put a bullet through him,
+for he has been an unlucky thief to us. Is my son aquil to the others,
+that came to pass your lordship?” asked Denis.
+
+“There is none of them properly qualified,” said the Bishop. “If there
+be any superiority among them your son has it. He is not without natural
+talent, Mr. Finnerty; his translations are strong and fluent, but
+ridiculously pedantic. That, however, is perhaps less his fault than the
+fault of those who instructed him.”
+
+“Are you anxious to dispose of the horse?” said the Counsellor.
+
+“A single day, sir, he'll never pass in my stable,” said Denis; “he has
+been an unlucky baste to me an' mine, an' to all that had anything to do
+wid him.”
+
+“Pray what age is he?”
+
+“Risin' four, sir; 'deed I believe he's four all out, an' a purty
+devil's clip he is, as you'd wish to see.”
+
+“Come,” said the Counsellor, rising, “let us have a look at him.
+Mr. Finnerty, you're an excellent judge; will you favor me with your
+opinion?”
+
+The priest and he, accompanied by the two O'Shaughnessys, passed out to
+the stable yard, where their horses stood. As they went, Father Finnerty
+whispered to O'Shaughnessy:--
+
+“Now, Denis, is your time. Strike while the iron is hot. Don't take
+a penny!--don't take a fraction! Get into a passion, and swear you'll
+shoot him unless he accepts him as a present. If he does, all's right;
+he can twine the Bishop round his finger.”
+
+“I see, sir,” said Denis; “I see! Let me alone for managin' him.”
+
+The barrister was already engaged in examining the horse's mouth, as is
+usual, when the priest accosted him with--
+
+“You are transgressing etiquette in this instance, Counsellor. You know
+the proverb--never look a gift horse in the mouth.”
+
+“How, Mr. Finnerty?--a gift horse!”
+
+“His Reverence is right!” exclaimed Denis: “the sorra penny ever will
+cross my pocket for the same horse. You must take him as he stands, sir,
+barrin' the bridle an' saddle, that's not my own.”
+
+“He will take no money,” said the priest.
+
+“Nonsense, my dear sir! Why not take a fair price for him?”
+
+“Divil the penny will cross my pocket for him, the unlucky thief!”
+ replied the shrewd farmer.
+
+“Then in that case the negotiation is ended,” replied the barrister.
+“I certainly will not accept him as a present. Why should I? What claim
+have I on Mr. O'Shaughnessy?”
+
+“I don't want you to take him,” said Denis; “I want nobody to take him:
+but I know the dogs of the parish 'll be pickin' his bones afore night.
+You may as well have him, sir, as not.”
+
+“Is the man serious, Mr. Finnerty?”
+
+“I never saw a man in my life having a more serious appearance, I assure
+you,” said the priest.
+
+“By Jove, it's a queer business,” replied the other: “a most
+extraordinary affair as I ever witnessed! Why, it would be madness
+to destroy such a fine animal as that! The horse is an excellent one!
+However, I shall certainly not accept him, until I ascertain whether I
+can prevail upon the bishop to elect his son to this vacancy. If I can
+make the man no return for him, I shall let him go to the dogs.”
+
+“Go up and set to work,” said the priest; “but remember that _tace_ is
+Latin for a candle. Keep his lordship in the dark, otherwise this scion
+is ousted.”
+
+“True,” said the other. “In the meantime bring them into the parlor
+until I try what can be done.”
+
+“Take the Bishop upon the father's affection for him,” said the priest.
+
+“You are right. I am glad you mentioned it.”
+
+“The poor man will break his heart,” said the priest.
+
+“He will,” responded the Counsellor smiling.
+
+“So will the mother, too,” said the priest, with an arch look.
+
+“And the whole family,” replied the Counsellor.
+
+“Go up instantly,” said the priest; “you have often got a worse fee.”
+
+“And, perhaps, with less prospect of success,” said the other.
+“Gentlemen, have the goodness to walk into the parlor for a few minutes,
+while I endeavor to soften my brother a little, if I can, upon this
+untoward business.”
+
+When the priest and his two friends entered the parlor, which was
+elegantly furnished, they stood for a moment to survey it.
+
+Old Denis, however, was too much engaged in the subject which lay
+nearest his heart to take pleasure in anything else; at least until he
+should hear the priest's opinion upon the posture of affairs.
+
+“What does your reverence think?” said Denis.
+
+“Behave yourself,” replied the pastor. “None of your nonsense! You know
+what I think as well as I do myself.”
+
+“But will Dionnisis pass?--Will he go to Maynooth?”
+
+“Will you go to your dinner to-day, or to your bed to-night?”
+
+“God be praised! Well, Docthor, wait till we see him off, then I'll be
+spakin' to you!”
+
+“No,” said the priest; “but wait till you tike a toss upon this sofa,
+and then you will get a taste of ecclesiastical luxury.”
+
+“Ay,” said Denis, “but would it be right o' me to sit in it? Maybe it's
+consecrated.”
+
+“Faith, you may swear that; but it is to the ease and comfort of his
+lordship! Come, man, sit down, till you see how you'll sink in it.”
+
+“Oh, murdher!” exclaimed Denis, “where am I at all? Docthor dear, am I
+in sight? Do you see the crown o' my head, good or bad? Oh, may I never
+sin, but that's great state!--Well, to be sure!”
+
+“Ay,” said the priest, “see what it is to be a bishop in any church! The
+moment a man becomes a bishop, he fastens tooth and nail upon luxury,
+as if a mitre was a dispensation for enjoying the world that they have
+sworn to renounce. Dionysius, look about you! Isn't this worth studying
+for?”
+
+“Yes,” replied the hitherto silent candidate, “if it was perusal on the
+part of his lordship that got it.”
+
+“Upon my credit, a shrewd observation! Ah, Dionysius, merit
+is overlooked in every church, and in every profession; or
+perhaps--hem!--ehem!--perhaps some of your reverend friends might be
+higher up! I mean nobody; but if sound learning, and wit, and humor,
+together with several other virtues which I decline enumerating, could
+secure a mitre, why mitres might be on other brows.”
+
+“This is surely great state,” observed the candidate; “and if it be a
+thing that I matriculate--”
+
+“And yet,” said the priest, interrupting him, “this same bishop--who is,
+no doubt, a worthy man, but who has no natural ear for a jest--was once
+upon a time the priest of an indifferent good parish, like myself; ay,
+and a poor, cowardly, culprit-looking candidate, ready to sink into the
+earth, before his bishop, like you.”
+
+“Me cowardly!” said the candidate: “I decline the insinuation
+altogether. It was nothing but veneration and respect, which you know we
+should entertain for all our spiritual superiors.”
+
+“That's truth decidedly; though, at the same time, your nerves were
+certainly rather entangled, like a ravelled hank. But no matter, man;
+we have all felt the same in our time. Did you observe how I managed the
+bishop?”
+
+“I can't say I did,” replied the candidate, who felt hurt at the
+imputation of cowardice before his father; “but I saw, sir, that the
+bishop managed you.”
+
+“Pray for a longer vision, Dionysius. I tell you that no other priest in
+the diocese could have got both you and me out of the dilemma in which
+we stood but myself. He has taken to the study of weeds and plants in
+his old days; and I, who have a natural taste for botany, know it is his
+weak side. I tell you, he would give the right of filling a vacancy in
+Maynooth, any day in the year, for a rare plant or flower. So much for
+your knowledge of human nature. You'll grant I managed the Counsellor?”
+
+“Between my father and you, sir, things look well. We have not, however,
+got a certificate of success yet.”
+
+“_Patientia fit levior ferendo!_--Have patience, man. Wait till we see
+the Counsellor!”
+
+He had scarcely uttered the last words when that gentleman entered.
+
+“Well, Counsellor,” said the priest, “is it a hit?”
+
+“Pray what is your Christian name, Mr. O'Shaughnessy?” inquired the
+lawyer o! young Denis.
+
+“My Christian name, sir,” replied Denis, “is Di-o-ny-si-us
+O'Shaughnessy. That, sir, is the name by which I am always appellated.”
+
+“That's quite sufficient,” said the other, “I shall be with you again
+in a few minutes.”
+
+“But won't you give us a hint, my good sir, as to how the land lies?”
+ said the priest, as the lawyer left the room.
+
+“Presently, Mr. Finnerty, presently.”
+
+“Intelligisme, Dionisi?”
+
+“Vix, Domine. Quid sentis?”
+
+“Quid sentis! No, but it was good fortune sent us. Don't you persave,
+Dionysius, and you, Denis--don't you know, I say, that this letter of
+admission couldn't be written except the bishop knew his name in full?
+Unlucky! Faith if ever a horse was lucky this is he.”
+
+“I declare, Docthor,” said the father, “I can neither sit nor stand, nor
+think of any one thing for a minute, I'm so much on the fidgets to know
+what the Bishop 'ill say.”
+
+“I also,” said Dionysius, “am in state of evaporation and uncertainty
+touching the same point. However, this I can affirm with veracity, that
+if I am rejected, my mind is made up to pursue an antithetical course of
+life altogether. If he rejects me now, he will never reject me again.”
+
+“Musha, how--Denny--Dionysis, avick? What do you mane?” said the father.
+
+“I will give,” said the son, “what is designated a loose translation of
+my meaning to Mr. Finnerty here, if I find that I am excluded on this
+occasion.”
+
+“And if you do succeed,” said the priest, “I would advise you to hire
+a loose translator during the remainder of your residence among us; for
+upon my veracity, Dionysius, the King's English will perform hard duty
+until you enter Maynooth. Not a word under six feet will be brought into
+the ranks--grenadiers every one of them, not to mention the thumpers you
+will coin.”
+
+“Come, Docthor Finnerty,” said our candidate, pulling up a little, “if
+the base Latin which you put into circulation were compared with
+my English thumpers, it would be found that of the two, I am more
+legitimate and etymological.”
+
+“I shall be happy to dispute that point with you another time,” said the
+priest, “when we can--Silence, here comes the Counsellor.”
+
+“Mr. O'Shaughnessy,” said the lawyer, addressing the candidate, “allow
+me to congratulate you on your success! Your business is accomplished.
+The Bishop is just finishing a letter for you to the President of
+Maynooth. I assure you, I feel great pleasure at your success.”
+
+“Accept my thanks, sir,” said Denis, whose eye was instantly lit up with
+delight--“accept my most obsequious thanks to the very furthest extent
+of my gratitude.”
+
+The Barrister then shook hands with old Denis. “O'Shaughnessy,” said he,
+“I am very happy that I have had it in my power to serve you and your
+son.”
+
+“Counsellor,” said Denis, seizing his hand in both of his--“Counsellor,
+_ahagur machree_ Counsellor, oh, what--what--can I say!--Is he--is it
+possible--is it thruth that my boy is to go to Maynewth this time? Oh,
+if you knew, but knew, the heavy, dead weight you tuck off o' my heart!
+Our son not cast aside--not disgraced!--for what else would the people
+think it? The horse!--a poor bit of a coult--a poor unsignified animal!
+To the devil wid him. What is he compared to the joy an' delight of
+this minute? Take him, sir; take him--an' if he was worth his weight
+in goold, I vow to Heaven above me, I'd not think him too good. Too
+good!--no, nor half good enough for you. God remimber this to you!
+an' he will, too. Little you know the happiness you have given us,
+Counsellor! Little you know it. But no matther! An' you, too, Father
+Finnerty, helped to bring this about. But sure you were ever an' always
+our friend! Well, no matther--no matther! God will reward you both.”
+
+“My brother wishes me to see Mr. Finnerty and your son,” said the
+barrister; “I think they had better go up to him. He is anxious to get a
+slip of your shrub, Mr. Finnerty.”
+
+“Ah, I thought so,” said the priest--“I thought as much.”
+
+The Bishop, on their reappearance, presented Denis with the long
+wished-for letter. He then gave him a suitable exhortation with
+reference to the serious and responsible duties for which he was about
+to prejjare himself. After concluding his admonition, he addressed
+Father Finnerty as follows:
+
+“Now Mr. Finnerty, this matter has ended in a manner satisfactory, not
+only to your young friend, but to yourself. You must promise me that
+there shall be no more horse-dealing. I do not think jockeying of that
+description either creditable or just. I am unwilling to use harsher
+language, but I could not conscientiously let it pass without reproof.
+In the next place, will you let me have a slip of that flowering shrub
+you boast of?”
+
+“Doctor,” said the priest, “is it possible you ask it of me? Why, I
+think your lordship ought to know that it's your own, as is every plant
+and flower in my garden that you fancy. Do you dine at home to-morrow,
+my lord?”
+
+“I do,” said the Bishop. “Well, then, I shall come up with a slip or two
+of it, and dine with you. I know the situation in which it grows best;
+and knowing this, I will put it down with my own hands. But I protest,
+my lord, against you allowing me to be traced in the business of the
+shrub at all, otherwise I shall have the whole county on my back.”
+
+“Be under no apprehension of that, Mr. Finnerty. I shall be happy if you
+dine with me; but bring it with you. How did you come to get it so early
+after its appearance in this country?”
+
+“I got it from headquarters, Doctor---from one of the best botanists in
+the three kingdoms; certainly from the best Irish botanist living--my
+friend, Mr Mackay, of the College Botanic Gardens. My lord, I wish you
+good morning; but before I go, accept my thanks for your kindness to my
+young friend. I assure you he will be a useful man; for he is even now
+no indifferent casuist.”
+
+“And I, my lord,” said Denis, “return you my most grateful--hem--my most
+grateful--and--most supercilious thanks for the favor--the stupendous
+favor you have conferred upon me.”
+
+“God bless you, my dear child,” returned the bishop; “but if you be
+advised by me, speak more intelligibly. Use plain words, and discard all
+difficult and pedantic expressions. God bless you! Farewell!”
+
+On coming down, they found old Denis in the stable-yard in rather a
+ridiculous kind of harness. The saddle that had been on the colt was
+strapped about him with the bridle, for both had been borrowed from a
+neighbor.
+
+“Dionnisis an' I must both ride the same horse,” said he, “an' as we
+have two saddles, I must carry one of them.”
+
+An altercation then ensued as to which should ride foremost. The son,
+now in high glee, insisted on the father's taking the seat of honor; but
+the father would not hear of this. The lad was, in his opinion, at least
+semi-clerical, and to ride behind would be a degradation to so learned
+a youth. They mounted at length, the son foremost, and the father on the
+crupper, the saddle strapped about him, with the stirrups dangling by
+the horse's flanks. Father Finnerty, who accompanied them, could not,
+however, on turning from the bishop's grounds into the highway, get a
+word out of them. The truth is, both their hearts were full; both were,
+therefore, silent, and thought every minute an hour until they reached
+home.
+
+This was but natural. A man may conceal calamity or distress even from
+his dearest friends; for who is there who wishes to be thrust back from
+his acknowledged position in life? Or who, when he is thrust back, will
+not veil his misfortunes or his errors with the guise of indifference or
+simulation? In good fortune we act differently. It is a step advanced;
+an elevation gained; there is nothing to fear, or to be ashamed of, and
+we are strongly prompted by vanity to proclaim it to the world, as we
+are by pride to ascribe its occurrence to our own talents or virtues.
+There are other and purer motives for this. The affections will not be
+still; they seek the hearts to which they tend; and having found them,
+the mutual interchange of good takes place. Father Finnerty--whose
+heart, though a kind one, had, probably, been too long out of practice
+to remember the influence and working of the domestic affections--could
+not comprehend the singular conduct of the two O'Shaughnessys.
+
+“What the devil is the matter with you?” he inquired. “Have you lost the
+use of your speech?”
+
+“Push an' avourneen,” said the father to Denis--“push an; lay the spur to
+him. Isn't your spur on the right foot?”
+
+“Most certainly,” said Denis, now as pedantic as ever--“most certainly
+it is. You are not to be informed that our family spur is a right-foot
+spur.”
+
+“Well, then, Peter Gallagher's spur that I have an is a left-foot spur,
+for it's an my left foot.”
+
+“You are a bright pair,” said the priest, somewhat nettled at their
+neglect of him--“you are a bright pair, and deeply learned in spurs.
+Can't you ride asier?”
+
+“Never heed him,” said the father, in a whisper; “do you, give the mare
+the right spur, an' I'll give her the left. Push an! that's it.”
+
+They accordingly dashed forwrard, Denis plying, one heel, and the father
+another, until the priest found himself gradually falling behind.
+In vain he plied both spurs; in vain he whipped, and wriggled on the
+saddle, and pressed forwrard his hack. Being a priest's horse, the
+animal had been accustomed for the last twelve years to a certain
+jog-trot-pace, beyond which it neither would nor could go. On finding
+all his efforts to overtake them unsuccessful, he at last shouted after
+them.
+
+“Do you call that gratitude, my worthy friends? To lave me creeping over
+the ups and downs of this villanous road without company?”
+
+“Lay an, aroon,” said the father. “Let us get home. Oh, how your poor
+mother will die with joy, an' Susy, an' Nanny, an' Brian, an' Michael,
+an' Dick, an' Lanty, an' all o' them. Glory be to Heaven! what a meetin'
+we'll have! An' the nabors, too! Push an' avick machree.”
+
+“My curse upon you, Friar Hennessy!” exclaimed the priest, in a
+soliloquy, “it was you who first taught this four-footed snail to go
+like a thief to the gallows. I wish to Heaven you had palmed him on some
+one else, for many a dinner I have lost by him in my time. Is that your
+gratitude, gentlemen? Do I deserve this?”
+
+“What is he sayin'?” said the father.
+
+“He is declaiming about gratitude,” replied Denis.
+
+“Lay-an' her,” said the father. “Poor Mave!”
+
+“Such conduct does you credit,” shouted the priest. “It's just the way
+of the world. You have got what you wanted out of me, an' now you throw
+me off. However, go on.”
+
+“What's that?” said the father again.
+
+“He is desiring us to go on,' replied the son.
+
+“Then, in the name o' Goodness, do so, avourneen. Susy will die
+downright.”
+
+“Where am I to dine to-day?” shouted the priest, in a louder voice. “I
+say, where am I to come in for my dinner, for I'm not expected at home,
+and my curate dines out?”
+
+“I can't hear him,” said the father.
+
+“He says the curate dines out; an' he wants to know if he's to dine with
+us.”
+
+“Throth, an' he won't; not that we begrudge it to him; but for this day
+the sarra one we'll have but our own relations. Push an. An' Brian, too,
+poor fellow, that was always so proud of you!”
+
+They had now reached the top of an ascent on the road, whilst the
+priest toiled up after them. In a few minutes they began to descend, and
+consequently were out of his sight.
+
+No description of mine could give an adequate perception to the reader
+of what was felt by the family on hearing that the object of Denis's
+hopes, and their own proud ambition, was at length accomplished. The
+Bishop's letter was looked at, turned in every direction, and the seal
+inspected with a kind of wonderful curiosity, such as a superstitious
+person would manifest on seeing and touching some sacred relic. The
+period appointed for his departure now depended upon the despatch with
+which they could equip him for college. But until this event should
+arrive, his friends lost no opportunity of having him among them.
+Various were the treats he got in fair and markets. Proud were his
+relations when paying' him the respect which he felt right sincere
+pleasure in receiving. The medium between dignity and humility which he
+hit off in these scenes, was worthy o'f being recorded; but, to do him
+justice, his forte lay in humility. He certainly condescended with a
+grace, and made them feel the honor done them by his vouchsafing to
+associate with such poor creatures as if he was one of themselves. To
+do them also justice, they appeared to feel his condescension; and, as
+a natural consequence, were ready to lick the very dust under his feet,
+considering him, as they did, a priest in everything but ordination.
+
+Denis, besides his intercourse with humble relatives, was now asked to
+dine with the neighboring clergymen, and frequently made one at their
+parties. In the beginning, his high opinion and awe of the clerical
+character kept him remarkably dull and sheepish. Many an excellent joke
+was cracked at his expense; and often did he ask himself what Phadrick
+Murray, his father's family, or his acquaintances in general, would
+say, if they saw his learning and his logic so villanously degraded.
+In proportion, however, as conviviality developed among his reverend
+friends many defects, opinions, and failings, which he never suspected
+them to possess, so did he begin to gather courage and facility of
+expression. By degrees he proceeded modestly from the mild and timid
+effort at wit to the steadier nerve of moderate confidence--another step
+brought him to the indifference of a man who can bear an unsuccessful
+attempt at pleasantry, without being discomposed; the third and last
+stage advanced him to downright assurance, which having reached, he
+stopped at nothing. From this forward he began to retort upon his
+clerical companions, who found that the sheepish youth whom they had
+often made ridiculous, possessed skill, when properly excited, to foil
+them at their own weapons. He observed many things in their convivial
+meetings. The holy man, whom his flock looked upon as a being of the
+highest sanctity, when lit up into fun and frolic, Denis learned to
+estimate at his just value. He thought, besides, that a person resolved
+to go to heaven, had as good a chance of being saved by the direct
+mercy of God, as through the ministration of men, whose only spiritual
+advantage over himself consisted in the mere fact of being in orders.
+To be sure, he saw the usual exceptions among them that are to be found
+among every other class; but he drew his conclusions from the general
+rule. All this, however, failed in removing that fundamental principle
+of honest superstition in which he had been trained. The clergymen whom
+he saw were only a few who constituted the great body of the church; but
+when the long and sanctified calendar of saints and miracles opened
+upon him, there still remained enough to throw a dim and solemn charm of
+shadowy pomp around the visions of a mind naturally imaginative.
+
+Messengers were once more sent abroad, to inform their friends of his
+triumph, who, on ascertaining that his journey was fixed for an early
+day, lost no time in pouring in, each with some gift suited to
+their circumstances. Some of these were certainly original, the
+appropriateness having been in every case determined by the wealth or
+poverty, ignorance, or knowledge, of those who offered them. Some poor
+relation, for instance, brought him a shirt or two of materials so
+coarse, that to wear it in a college would be out of the question;
+others offered him a pair of brogues, much too vulgar for the society he
+was about to enter; others, again, would present him with books--for
+it is not at all uncommon to find in many illiterate Irish families
+half-a-dozen old volumes of whose contents they are ignorant, lying in
+a dusty corner, where they are kept till some young scion shall be
+sufficiently instructed to peruse them. The names of these were singular
+enough. One presented him with “The Necessity of Penance;” another with
+“Laugh and be Fat;” a third with the “Key of Paradise;” a fourth
+with “Hell Open;” a fifth handed him a copy of the “Irish Rogues and
+Rapparees; a sixth gave him “Butler's Lives of Saints;” a seventh “The
+Necessity of Fasting;” an eighth “The Epicure's _Vade Mecum_.” The list
+ran on very ludicrously. Among them were the “Garden of Love and Royal
+Flower of Fidelity;” “An Essay on the Virtue of Celibacy;” and another
+“On the Increase of Population in Ireland.” To these we may add “The
+Devil upon Two Sticks,” and “The Life of St. Anthony.”
+
+“Take these, Misther Denis,” said the worthy souls; “they're of no use
+to us at all at all; but they'll sarve you, of coorse, where you're
+goin', bekase when you want books in the college you can use them.”
+
+Honest Phadrick Murray, in lieu of a more valuable present, brought him
+his wife's largest and best shawl as a pocket handkerchief.
+
+“Katty, sir, sent you this,” said Phadrick, “as a pocket handkerchy; an'
+be gorra, Mither Denis, if you begin at this corner, an' take it out o'
+the face, it'll last you six months at a time, any how.”
+
+Another neighbor came with a _cool_ of rendered lard, hoping it might be
+serviceable.
+
+“Norah, sir,” said the honest friend who brought it, “sent you a' crock
+of her own lard. When, you're makin' colcanon, sir, or _sthilk_,* in
+the college, if you slip in a lamp of this, it'll save you the price of
+bufther. The grace 'ill be useful to you, whether or not; an' they say
+there's a scarcity of it in the college.”.
+
+     * Sthilk is made by bruising a quantity of boiled
+     Potatoes and beans together. The potatoes, however,
+     having first been reduced to a pulpy state, the beans
+     are but partially broken. It is then put into dish, and
+     a pound of butter or rendered lard thrust into the
+     middle of it.
+
+A third brought him an oak sapling to keep in his hand about the
+purlieus of the establishment.
+
+“We know,” said he, “that you're given to arguin' an' to that thing
+you call logic, Misther Denis. Now, sir, if you're ever hard set in
+an argument or the like o' that, or if any o' the shthudjeents 'ud be
+throuble-some or imperant, why give them a touch o' this--a lick of it,
+do you see; jist this a way. First come wid a back sthroke upon the left
+ear, if they want to be properly convinced; an' thin agin' afore they
+have time to recover, come down wid a visitation upon the kidney, My
+life for yours, they'll soon let you alone. Nothin' puzzles one in an
+argument more than it does.”
+
+“Ay,” said Denis, “that is what they call--in the books the _argumentum
+baculinum_. I accept your present, Roger; but I flatter myself I shall
+be a match for any of the collegians without having recourse to the
+argumentum baculinum.”
+
+A poor old widow, who was distantly related to them, came upwards of
+four miles with two or three score of eggs, together with a cock and
+hen; the eggs for his own use, and the latter for breeding in Maynooth.
+“Avourneen, Misther O'Shaughnessy,” said she, in broken English, “when
+you ate out all the eggs, maybe you could get a sonsy little corner
+about the collegian that you're goin' to larn to be a priest in, an'
+put them both into it; “--pointing at the same time to the cock and
+hen--“an' whishper,” she continued, in a low friendly voice, “if you
+could get a weeshy wisp o' sthraw, an slip it undher your own bed, it
+would make a nest for them, an' they'd lay an egg for your breakfast all
+days in the year. But, achora, don't let them be widout a nest egg; an'
+whishper--maybe you'd breed a clackin' out o' them, that you might
+sell. Sure they'd help to buy duds of cloes for you; or you might make
+presents of the crathurs to the blessed an' holy collegian himself.
+Wouldn't it be good to have him an your side?--He'd help to make a
+gintleman of you, any way. Faix, sure he does it for many, they say. An'
+whishper--the breed, avourneen, is good; an' I'm not afeard to say that
+there never was sich a chicken in the whole collegian, as the ould cock
+himself. He's the darlin' all out, an' can crow so stoutly, that it
+bates the world. Sure his comb's a beauty to look at, the darlin'; an'
+only it's to yourself, an' in regard of the blessed place he's goin' to,
+I wouldn't part wid him to nobody whatsomever, at all, good or bad.”
+
+The most original gift of all was a purse, formed of a small bladder,
+ingeniously covered with silk. It was given to him by his uncle, as a
+remembrance of him, in the first place; and secondly, for a more special
+purpose.
+
+“This will sarve you, sir,” said his uncle, “an' I'll tell you how: if
+you want to smuggle in a sup of good whiskey--as of coorse you will,
+plase goodness--why this houlds exactly a pint, an' is the very thing
+for it. The sorra one among them will ever think of searchin' your
+purse, at least for whiskey. Put it in your pocket, Misther Dionmsis;
+an' I'd take it as a great kindness if you'd write me a scrape or two of
+the pen, mentionin' what a good parish 'ud be worth: you'll soon be able
+to tell me, for I've some notion myself of puttin' Barny to Latin.”
+
+Denis was perfectly aware of the honest warmth of heart with which these
+simple tokens of esteem were presented to him; and young as he was,
+his knowledge of their habits and prejudices prevented him from
+disappointing them by a refusal. He consequently accepted everything
+offered him, appropriated to himself whatever was suitable to his wants,
+converted the remainder into pocket-money, and, of course, kept his
+conscience void of offence toward them all: a state of Christian virtue
+which his refusal of any one gift would have rendered difficult.
+
+On the day before his departure the friends and relations of the family
+assembled to hold their farewell meeting. The same spirit which marked
+all their rustic symposia presided in this; if we except a feeling of
+sorrow natural to his family on being separated from one they loved so
+affectionately. Denis, who was never deficient in warmth of feeling,
+could not be insensible to the love and pride with which his family had
+always looked upon him. Ambition, as he approached it, lost much of
+its fictitious glitter. A sense of sorrow, if not of remorse, for the
+fastidious and overbearing spirit he had manifested to them, pressed
+upon his heart. Pride, in fact, was expelled; nature resumed her empire
+over him; he looked upon the last two months of his life as a man would
+be apt to do who had been all that time under the dominion of a feverish
+dream. We do not say, however, that either ambition or superstition was
+thoroughly expelled from his mind; for it is hard at all times to root
+them out of the system of man: but they ceased to govern him altogether.
+A passion, too, as obstinate as either of them, was determined to
+dispute their power. The domestic affections softened his heart; but
+love, which ambition left for dead, was only stunned; it rose again, and
+finding a favorable position, set its seal to his feelings.
+
+Denis himself, some days before that appointed for his departure, became
+perfectly conscious that his affections were strongly fixed upon Susan
+Connor. The nature of their last interview filled him with shame; nay,
+more, it inspired him with pity for the fair, artless girl whom he
+had so unfeelingly insulted. The manner in which he had won her young
+affections; the many tender interviews that had passed between them; the
+sacred promises of unchangeable love they had made to each other: all
+crowded to his imagination with a power which reduced his spiritual
+ambition and ecclesiastical pride, at least to the possession only of a
+divided empire. He had, therefore, with his book in his hand as
+usual, taken many solitary walks for the preceding few days, with the
+expectation of meeting Susan. He heard that for the last month or six
+weeks she had looked ill, been in low spirits, and lost her health. The
+cause of this change, though a secret to the world, was known to him. He
+knew, indeed, that an interview between them was indispensable; but had
+it not been so, we question whether he would have been able to leave
+home without seeing her.
+
+His evening strolls, however, up until the day before his setting out
+for college, were fruitless. Susan, who heretofore had been in the habit
+of walking in the evenings among the green dells around her father's
+house, was ever since their last meeting almost invisible. In the
+meantime, as the day before that of his leaving the neighborhood had
+arrived, and as an interview with her was, in a religious point of view,
+essentially necessary, he took his book in the course of the evening,
+and by a path slightly circuitous, descended the valley that ran between
+his father's house and hers. With solemn strides he perambulated it in
+every direction--north, south, east, and west; not a natural bower in
+the glen was unexplored; not a green, quiet nook unsearched; not a shady
+tree unexam-ined; but all to no purpose. Yet, although he failed in
+meeting herself, a thousand objects brought her to his heart. Every
+dell, natural bower, and shady tree, presented him with a history of
+their past affections. Here was the spot where, with beating heart
+and crimson cheek, she had first breathed out in broken music the
+acknowledgment of her love; there had another stolen meeting, a thousand
+times the sweeter for being stolen, taken place. Every spot, in fact,
+was dear to him, and every object associated itself with delightful
+emotions that kindled new life in a spirit from which their parent
+affections had not yet passed away.
+
+Denis now sought the only other place where he had any likelihood of
+meeting her: this was at the well below her father's house. He walked
+down along the banks of the little stream that ran past it, until he
+reached a thorn bush that grew within a few yards of the spring. Under
+this he sat, anxiously hoping that Susan might come to fill her evening
+pail, as he knew she was wont to do. A thick flowery branch of the
+hawthorn, for it was the latter end of May, hung down from the trunk,
+and served as a screen through which he could observe her should she
+appear, without being visible himself.
+
+It was now the hour of twilight; the evening was warm and balmy; the
+whitethorn tinder which he sat, and the profusion of wild flowers that
+spangled the bosom of the green glen, breathed their fragrance around
+him, and steeped, the emotions and remembrances which crowded thickly
+on him in deep and exquisite tenderness. Up in the air he heard the
+quavering hum of the snipe, as it rose and fell in undulating motion,
+and the creak of the rail in many directions around him. From an
+adjoining meadow in the distance, the merry voices of the village
+children came upon his ear, as they gathered the wild honey which
+dropped like dew from the soft clouds upon the long grassy stalks, and
+meadow-sweet, on whose leaves it lay like amber. He remembered when
+he and Susan, on meeting there for a similar purpose, felt the first
+mysterious pleasure in being together, and the unaccountable melancholy
+produced by separation and absence.
+
+At length he heard a footstep; but he could not persuade himself that
+the slow and lingering tread of the person approaching him was that
+of Susan, so much did it differ from the buoyant and elastic step with
+which she used to trip along. On looking through the branches, however,
+he perceived her coming towards him, carrying the pitcher as usual in
+her hand. The blood was already careering at full speed through his
+veins, and the palpitations of his heart were loud enough to be heard by
+the ear.
+
+Oh, beauty, beauty! _terrima causa belli_, thou dost play the devil with
+the hearts of men! Who is there who doth not wish to look upon thee,
+from the saint to the sinner?--None. For thee worlds have been lost;
+nations swept off the earth; thrones overturned; and cities laid in
+ashes! Adam, David, Marc Antony, Abelard, and Denis O'Shaughnessy,
+exhibit histories of thy power never to be forgotten, but the greatest
+of these is Denis O'Shaughnessy.
+
+Susan was about the middle size; her tresses, like those of the
+daughters of her country, were a fair brown, and abundant. Her features
+were not such, we admit, as mark regular and scientific perfection,
+and perhaps much of their power was owing to their not being altogether
+symmetrical. Her great charm consisted in a spirit of youthful
+innocence, so guileless that the very light of purity and truth seemed
+to break in radiance from her countenance. Her form was round, light,
+and flexible. When she smiled her face seemed to lose the character of
+its mortality--so seraphic and full of an indescribable spell were its
+lineaments; that is, the spell was felt by its thrilling influence
+upon the beholder, rather than by any extraordinary perception of her
+external beauty. The general expression of her countenance, however, was
+that of melancholy. No person could look upon her! white forehead and
+dark flashing eyes, without perceiving that she was full of tenderness
+and enthusiasm; but let the light of cheerfulness fall upon her face,
+and you wished never to see it beam with any other spirit. In her met
+those extremes of character peculiar to her country. Her laughing lips
+expanded with the playful delicacy of mirth, or breathed forth, with
+untaught melody and deep pathos, her national songs of sorrow.
+
+A little before she made her appearance, the moon had risen and softened
+with her dewy light the calm secluded scene around them. Denis, too, had
+an opportunity of seeing the lovely girl more distinctly. Her dress was
+simple but becoming. Her hair, except the side ringlets that fell to
+heighten the beauty of her neck, was bound up with a comb which Denis
+himself had presented to her. She wore a white dimity bedgown, that sat
+close to her well-formed person, descended below her knee, and opened
+before; the sleeves of it did not reach the elbow, but displayed an arm
+that could not be surpassed for whiteness and beauty. The bedgown was
+frilled about the shoulder, which it covered, leaving the neck only, and
+the upper part of her snowy bosom, visible. A dark ribbon, tied about
+her waist, threw her figure into exquisite outline, and gave her that
+simple elegance which at once bespeaks the harmony of due proportion.
+
+On reaching the well she filled her vessel, and placed it on a small
+mound beside her; then sitting down, she mused for some time, and
+turning her eyes towards Denis's father's sighed deeply.
+
+“It's the least,” said the humble girl, “that I may look towards the
+house that the only one I ever loved, or ever will love, lives in.
+Little I thought when I loved him that I was standin' between him an'
+God. Loved him! I wish I could say it was past. I wish I could: for I am
+afeared that till my weak heart breaks it will love him still. God pity
+me! It would be well for me I had never seen him! But why he should go
+to Maynooth without givin' me back my promise I cannot tell.”
+
+Denis rose and approached her. Susan, on seeing him, started, and her
+lover could perceive that she hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. A
+single glance, however, convinced her that it was he; and such was the
+guileless simplicity of her heart, joined to the force of habit, that
+her face beamed with one of her wonted smiles at his appearance. This
+soon passed away, and her features again resumed an expression of deep
+melancholy. Our hero now forgot his learning; his polysyllables were
+laid aside, and his pedantry utterly abandoned. His pride, too, was
+gone, and the petty pomp of artificial character thing aside like an
+unnecessary garment which only oppresses the wearer.
+
+“Susan,” said he, “I am sorry to see you look so pale and unhappy.
+I deeply regret it; and I could not permit this day to pass, without
+seeing and speaking to you. If I go to-morrow, Susan, may I now ask in
+what light will you remember me?”
+
+“I'll remember you without anger, Denis; with sorrow will I remember
+you, but not, as I said, in anger; though God knows, and you know, the
+only token you lave me to remember you by is a broken heart.”
+
+“Susan,” said Denis, “it was an unhappy attachment, as circumstances
+have turned out; and I wish for both our sakes we had never loved one
+another. For some time past my heart has been torn different ways, and,
+to tell you the truth, I acknowledge that within the last three or four
+months I have been little less than a villain to you.”
+
+“You speak harshly of yourself, Denis; I hope, more so than you
+deserve.”
+
+“No, Susy. With my heart fixed upon other hopes, I continued to draw
+your affections closer and closer to me.”
+
+“Well, that was wrong, Denis; but you loved me long before that time,
+an' it's not so asy a thing to draw away the heart from what we love;
+that is, to draw it away for ever, Denis, even although greater things
+may rise up before us.”
+
+As she pronounced the last words, her voice, which she evidently strove
+to keep firm, became unsteady.
+
+“That's true, Susan, I know it; but I will never forgive myself for
+acting a double part to you and to the world. There is not a pang you
+suffer but ought to fall as a curse upon my head, for leading you into
+greater confidence, at a time when I was not seriously resolved to
+fulfil my vows to you.”
+
+“Denis,” said the unsuspecting girl, “you're imposin' on yourself--you
+never could do so bad, so treacherous an act as that. No, you never
+could, Denis; an', above all the world, to a heart that loved and
+trusted you as mine did. I won't believe it, even from your own lips.
+You surely loved me, Denis, and in that case you couldn't be desateful
+to me.”
+
+“I did love you; but I never loved you half so well as I ought, Susy;
+and I never was worthy of you. Susy, I tell you--I tell you--my heart
+is breaking for your sake. It would have been well for both of us we had
+never seen, or known, or loved each other; for I know by my own heart
+what you must suffer.”
+
+“Denis, don't be cast down on my account; before I ever thought of you,
+when I was runnin' about the glens here, a lonely little orphan, I was
+often sorry, without knowin' why. Sometimes I used to wonder at it,
+and search my mind to find out what occasioned it: but I never could.
+I suppose it was because I saw other girls, like myself, havin' their
+little brothers an' sisters to play with or because I had no mother's
+voice to call me night or mornin', or her bosom to lay my head on, if I
+was sick or tired. I suppose it was this. Many a time, Denis, even then,
+I knew what sorrow was, and I often thought that, come what would to
+others, there was sorrow before me. I now find I was right; but for all
+that, Denis, it's betther that we should give up one another in time,
+than be unhappy by my bein' the means of turning you from the ways and
+duties of God.”
+
+The simple and touching picture which she drew of her orphan childhood,
+together with the tone of resignation and sorrow which ran through all
+she said, affected Denis deeply.
+
+“Susan,” he replied, “I am much changed of late. The prospect before me
+is a dark one--a mysterious one. It is not many months since my head
+was dizzy with the gloomy splendor which the pomps and ceremonies of the
+Church--soon, I trust, to be restored in this country to all her pride
+and power--presented to my imagination. But I have mingled with those on
+whom before this--that is, during my boyhood--I looked with awe, as on
+men who held vested in themselves some mysterious and spiritual power. I
+have mingled with them, Susan, and I find them neither better nor worse
+than those who still look upon them as I once did.”
+
+“Well, but, Denis, how does that bear upon your views?”
+
+“It does, Susan. I said I have found them neither better nor worse than
+their fellow-creatures; but I believe they are not so happy. I think
+I could perceive a gloom, even in their mirth, that told of some
+particular thought or care that haunted them like a spirit. Some of
+them and not a few, in the moments of undisguised feeling, dissuaded me
+against ever entering the Church.”
+
+“I am sure they're happy,” said Susan. “Some time ago, accordin' to your
+own words, you thought the same; but something has turned your heart
+from the good it was fixed upon. You're in a dangerous time, Denis; and
+it's not to be wondhered at, if the temptations of the devil should thry
+you now, in hopes to turn you from the service of God. This is a warnin'
+to me, too, Denis. May Heaven above forbid that I should be made the
+means of temptin' you from the duty that's before you!”
+
+“No, Susan, dear, it's not temptation, but the fear of temptation, that
+prevails with me.”
+
+“But, Denis, surely if you think yourself not worthy to enter that
+blessed state, you have time enough to avoid it.”
+
+“Ay, but, Susy, there is the difficulty. I am now so placed that I can
+hardly go back. First, the disgrace of refusing to enter the Church
+would lie upon me as if I had committed a crime. Again, I would break my
+father's and my mother's heart: and rather than do that, I could almost
+submit to be miserable for life. And finally, I could not live in the
+family, nor bear the indignation of my brothers and other relations. You
+know, Susan, as well as I do, the character attached to those who put
+their friends to the expense of educating them for the Church, who raise
+their hopes and their ambition, and afterwards disappoint them.”
+
+“I know it.”
+
+“This, Susan, dear, prevails with me. Besides, the Church now is likely
+to rise from her ruins. I believe that if a priest did his duty,
+he might possibly possess miraculous power. There is great pomp and
+splendor in her ceremonies, a sense of high and boundless authority in
+her pastors; there is rank in her orders sufficient even for ambition.
+Then the deference, the awe, and the humility with which they are
+approached by the people--ah! Susan, there is much still in the
+character of a priest for the human heart to covet. The power of
+saying mass, of forgiving sin, of relieving the departed spirits of the
+faithful in another world, and of mingling in our holy sacrifices, with
+the glorious worship of the cherubims, or angels, in heaven--all this is
+the privilege of a priest, and what earthly rank can be compared to it?”
+
+“None at all, Denis--none at all. Oh, think this way still, and let no
+earthly temptation--no--don't let--even me--what am I?--a poor humble
+girl--oh! no, let nothing keep you back from this.”
+
+The tears burst from her eyes, however, as she spoke.
+
+“But, Denis,” she added, “there is one thing that turns my brain. I fear
+that, even afther your ordination, I couldn't look upon you as I would
+upon another man. Oh, my heart would break if one improper thought of it
+was fixed upon you then.”
+
+“Susy, hear me. I could give up all, but you. I could bear to disappoint
+father, mother, and all; but the thought of giving you up for ever is
+terrible. I have been latterly in a kind of dream. I have been among
+friends and relatives until my brain was turned; but now I am restored
+to myself, and I find I cannot part with you. I would gladly do it;
+but I cannot. Oh, no, Susan, dear, my love for you was dimmed by other
+passions; but it was not extinguished. It now burns stronger and purer
+in my heart than ever. It does--it does. And, Susan, I always loved
+you.”
+
+Susan paused for some time, and unconsciously plucked a wild flower
+which grew beside her: she surveyed it a moment, and exclaimed:--
+
+“Do you see this flower, Denis? it's a faded primrose. I'm like that
+flower in one sense; I'm faded; my heart's broke.”
+
+“No, my beloved Susan, don't say so; you're only low-spirited. Why
+should your heart be broke, and you in the very bloom of youth and
+beauty?”
+
+“Do you remember our last meetin', Denis? Oh, how could you be so cruel
+then as to bid me think of marryin' another, as if I had loved you for
+anything but yourself? I'm but a simple girl, Denis, and know but little
+of the world; but if I was to live a thousand years, you would always
+see the sorrow that your words made me feel visible upon my countenance.
+I'm not angry with you, Denis; but I'm telling you the truth.”
+
+“Susan, my darling, this is either weakness of mind or ill health. I
+will see you as beautiful and happy as ever. For my part, I now tell
+you, that no power on earth can separate us! Yes, my beloved Susan, I
+will see you as happy and happier than I have ever seen you. That will
+be when you are my own young and guileless wife.”
+
+“Ah, no, Denis! My mind is made up: I can never be your wife, Do you
+think that I would bring the anger of God upon myself, by temptin' you
+back from the holy office you're entering into? Think of it yourself
+Denis. Your feelings are melted now by our discoorse, and, maybe,
+because I'm near you; but when time passes, you'll be glad that in the
+moment of weakness you didn't give way to them. I know it's natural for
+you to love me now. You're lavin' me--you're lavin' the place where I
+am--the little river and the glen where we so often met, and where we
+often spent many a happy hour together. That has an effect upon you;
+for why should I deny it--you see it--it is hard--very hard--even upon
+myself.”
+
+She neither sobbed nor cried so as to be heard, but the tears gushed
+down her cheeks in torrents.
+
+“Susan,” said Denis, in an unsteady voice, “you speak in vain. Every
+word you say tells me that I cannot live without you; and I will not.”
+
+“Don't say that, Denis. Suppose we should be married, think of what I
+would suffer if I saw you in poverty or distress, brought on because
+you married me! Why, my heart would sink entirely under it. Then your
+friends would never give me a warm heart. Me! they would never give
+yourself a, warm heart; and I would rather be dead than see you brought
+to shame, or ill-treatment, or poverty, on my account. Pray to God,
+Denis, to grant you grace to overcome whatever you feel for me. I have
+prayed both for you and myself. Oh, pray to him, Denis, sincerely, that
+he may enable you to forget that such, a girl--such an unhappy girl--as
+Susan Connor ever lived!”
+
+Poor Denis was so much overcome that he could not restrain his tears. He
+gazed upon the melancholy countenance of the fair girl, in a delirium of
+love and admiration; but in a few minutes he replied:--
+
+“Susan, your words are lost: I am determined. Oh! great heavens! what
+a treasure was I near losing! Susan, hear me: I will bear all that this
+world can inflict; I will bear shame, ill-treatment, anger, scorn, and
+every harsh word that may be uttered against me; I will renounce church,
+spiritual power, rank, honor; I will give up father and family--all--all
+that this world could flatter mo with: yes, I will renounce each and
+all for your sake! Do not dissuade me; my mind is fixed, and no power on
+earth can change it.”
+
+“Yes, Denis,” she replied calmly, “there is a power, and a weak power,
+too, that will change it; for I will change it. Don't think, Denis, that
+in arguin' with you, against the feelin's of my own heart, I am doin' it
+without sufferin'. Oh, no, indeed! You know, Denis, I am a lonely
+girl; that I have neither brother, nor sister, nor mother to direct
+me. Sufferin'!--Oh, I wish you knew it! Denis, you must forget me. I'm
+hopeless now: my, heart, as I said, is broke, and I'm strivin' to fix it
+upon a happier world! Oh! if I had a mother or a sister, that I could,
+when my breast is likely to burst, throw myself in their arms, and cry
+and confess all I feel! But I'm alone, and must bear all my own sorrows.
+Oh, Denis! I'm not without knowin' how hard the task is that I have set
+to myself. Is it nothing to give up all that the heart is fixed upon? Is
+it nothing to walk about this glen, and the green fields, to have one's
+eyes upon them, and to remember what happiness one has had in them,
+knowin', at the same time, that it's all blasted? Oh, is it nothing to
+look upon the green earth itself,and all its beauty--to hear the happy
+songs and the joyful voices of all that are about us--the birds singing
+sweetly, the music of the river flowin'--to see the sun shinin', and to
+hear the rustlin' of the trees in the warm winds of summer--to see and
+hear all this, and to feel that a young heart is brakin', or already
+broken within us--that we are goin' to lave it all--all we loved--and to
+go down into the clay under us? Oh, Denis, this is hard;--bitter is it
+to me, I confess it; for something tells me it will be my fate soon!”
+
+“But, Susan”--
+
+“Hear me out. I have now repated what I know I must suffer--what I know
+I must lose. This is my lot, and I must bear it. Now, Denis, will you
+grant your own Susan one request?”
+
+“If it was that my life should save yours, I would grant it.”
+
+“It's the last and only one I will ever ask of you. My health has been
+ill, Denis; my strength is gone, and I feel' I am gettin' worse every
+day: now when you hear that I am--that I am--gone,--will you offer up
+the first mass you say for my pace and rest in another world? I say
+the first, for you know there's more virtue in a first mass than in any
+other. Your Susan will be then in the dust, and you may feel sorrow, but
+not love for her.”
+
+“Never, Susan! For God's sake, forbear! You will drive me distracted. As
+I hope to meet judgment, I think I never loved you till now; and by the
+same oath, I will not change my purpose in making you mine.”
+
+“Then you do love me still, Denis? And you would give up all for your
+Susan? Answer me truly, for the ear of God is open to our words and
+thoughts.”
+
+“Then, before God, I love you too strongly for words to express; and I
+would and will give up all for your sake!”
+
+Susan turned her eyes upon vacancy; and Denis observed that a sudden and
+wild light broke from them, which alarmed him exceedingly. She put her
+open hand upon her forehead, as if she felt pain, and remained glancing
+fearfully around her for a few minutes; her countenance, which became
+instantly like a sheet of paper, lost all its intelligence, except,
+perhaps, what might be gleaned from a smile of the most ghastly and
+desolating misery.
+
+“Gracious heaven! Susan, dear, what's the matter? Oh, my God! your face
+is like marble! Dearest Susan, speak to me!--Oh, speak to me, or I will
+go distracted!”
+
+She looked upon him long and steadily; but he perceived with delight
+that her consciousness was gradually returning. At length she drew a
+deep sigh, and requested him to listen.
+
+“Denis,” said she, “you must now be a man. We can never be married. I am
+PROMISED TO ANOTHER!”
+
+“Promised to another! Your brain is turned, Susy. Collect yourself,
+dearest, and think of what you say.”
+
+“I know what I say--I know it too well! What did I say? Why--why,” she
+added, with an unsettled look, “that I'm promised to another! It is
+true--true as God's in heaven. Oh, Denis! why did you lave me so' long
+without seein' me? I said my heart was broke, and you will soon know
+that it has bitter, bitter rason to be so. See here.”
+
+She had, during her reply, taken from her bosom a small piece of brown
+cloth, of a square shape, marked with the letters I. M. I. the initials
+of the names of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. She kissed it fervently as she
+spoke, and desired Denis to look upon it and hear her.
+
+“When you saw me last,” she continued, “I left you in anger, because I
+thought you no longer loved me. Many a scaldin' tear I shed that nobody
+witnessed; many a wringin' my heart felt since that time. I got low,
+and, as I said, my health left me. I began to think of what I ought to
+do; and bein' so much' alone, my thoughts were never off it. At last
+I remembered the Virgin Mother of God, as bein' once a woman, and the
+likelier to pity one of her own kind in sorrow. I then thought of a
+scapular; and made a promise to myself, that if you didn't come within
+a certain time, I would dedicate myself to her for ever. I saw that you
+neglected me, and I heard so much of the way you spent your time, how
+you were pleasant and merry while my heart was breakin', that I made a
+vow to remain a spotless virgin all my life. I got a scapular, too, that
+I might be strengthened to keep my holy promise; for you didn't come to
+me within the time. This is it in my hand. It is now on me. The VOW IS
+MADE AND I AM MISERABLE FOB EVER!”
+
+Denis sobbed and wrung his hands, whilst tears, intensely bitter, fell
+from his eyes.
+
+“Oh, Susan!” he exclaimed, “what have you done? Miserable! Oh you have
+ruined me utterly! You have rendered us both for ever miserable!”
+
+“Miserable!” she exclaimed with flashing eyes. “Who talks of misery?”
+ But again she put her hand to her forehead, and endeavored to recollect
+herself. “Denis,” she added, “Denis, my brain is turning! Oh, I have
+no friend! Oh, mother, that I never seen, but as if it was in a dream;
+mother, daughter of your daughter's heart, look down from heaven, and.
+pity your orphan child in her sore trouble and affliction! Oh, how often
+did I miss you, mother darlin', durin' all my life! In sickness I had
+not your tend her hands about me; in sorrow I could no' hear your voice;
+and in joy and happiness you were never with me to share them! I had not
+your advice, my blessed mother, to guide and direct me, to tache me what
+was right and what was wrong! Oh, if you will not hear your own poor
+lonely orphan, who will you hear? if you will not assist her, who
+ought you to assist? for, as sure as I stand here this night, you are
+a blessed saint in heaven. But let me not forget the Virgin Queen of
+Heaven, that I am bound to. I kneel to you, Hope of the Afflicted! To
+you let them go that have a broken heart, as I have! Queen of Glory,
+pity me!--Star of the Sea--Comfort of the Hopeless--Refuge of Sinners,
+hear me, strengthen and support me! And you will, too. Who did you
+ever cast away, mild and beautiful Virgin of Heaven? As the lily among
+thorns, so are you among the daughters of Adam!* Yes, Denis, she will
+support me--she will support me! I feel her power on me now! I see the
+angels of heaven about her, and her mild countenance smilin' sweetly
+upon the broken flower! Yes, Denis, her glory is upon me!” The last
+words were uttered with her eyes flashing wildly as before, and her
+whole person and countenance evidently under the influence of a highly
+excited enthusiasm, or perhaps a touch of momentary insanity.
+
+     * The form of the Service of the Virgin, from which
+     most of the above expressions are taken is certainly
+     replete with beauty and poetry.
+
+Poor Denis stood with streaming eyes, incapable of checking or
+interrupting her. He had always known that her education and
+understanding were above the common; but he never anticipated from
+her such capacity for deep feeling, united to so much vivacity of
+imagination as she then displayed. Perhaps he had not philosophy enough,
+at that period of his youth, to understand the effects of a solitary
+life upon a creature full of imagination and sensibility. The scenery
+about her father's house was wild, and the glens singularly beautiful;
+Susan lived among them alone, so that she became in a manner enamored of
+solitude; which, probably mote than anything else, gives tenderness
+to feeling and force to the imaginative faculties. Soon after she had
+pronounced the last words, however, her good sense came to her aid.
+
+“Denis,” said she, “you have seen my weakness; but you must now see
+my strength. You know we have a trial to go through before we part for
+ever.”
+
+“Oh! Susy, don't say 'for ever.' You know that the vow you made was a
+rash vow. It may be set aside.”
+
+“It was not a rash vow, Denis. I made it with a firm intention of
+keepin' it, and keep it I will. The Mother of God is not to be mocked,
+because I am weak, or choose to prefer my own will to hers.”
+
+“But, Susy, the Church can dissolve it. You know she has power to bind
+and to loose. Oh, for God's sake, Susy, if you ever loved me, don't
+attempt to take back your promise.”
+
+“I love you too well to destroy you, Denis. I will never stand between
+you and God, for that would be my crime. I will never bring disgrace, or
+shame, or poverty, upon you; for surely these things would fall upon you
+as a punishment for desartin' him. If you were another--if you weren't
+intended to be the servant of God, I could beg with you--starve with
+you--die with you. But when I am gone, remember, that I gave up all
+my hopes, that you might succeed in yours. I'm sure that is love. Now,
+Denis, we must return our promises, the time is passin', and we'll both
+be missed from home.”
+
+“Susan, for the sake of my happiness, both in this world and in the
+next, don't take away all hope. Make me not miserable and wretched; send
+me not into the church a hypocrite. If you do, I will charge you with
+my guilt; I will charge you with the crimes of a man who will care but
+little what he does.”
+
+“You will have friends, Denis; pious men, who will direct you and guide
+you and wean your heart from me and the world. You will soon bless me
+for this. Denis,” she added, with a smile of unutterable misery, “my mind
+is made up. I belong now to the Virgin Mother of God. I never will be
+so wicked as to forsake her for a mortal. If I was to marry you--with
+a broken vow upon me, I could not prosper. The curse of God and of his
+Blessed Mother would follow us both.”
+
+Denis felt perfectly aware of the view entertained by Susan, respecting
+such a vow as she had taken. To reason with her, was only to attack
+a prejudice which scorned reason. Besides this, he was not himself
+altogether free from the impression of its being a vow too solemn to be
+broken without the sanction of the Church.
+
+“Let us go,” said Susan, “to the same spot where we first promised.
+It was under this tree, in this month, last year. Let us give it back
+there.”
+
+The hand-promise in Ireland between the marriageable young of both
+sexes, is considered the most solemn and binding of all obligations. Few
+would rely upon the word or oath of any man who had been known to break
+a hand-promise. And, perhaps, few of the country girls would marry or
+countenance the addresses of a yoking person known to have violated
+such a pledge. The vow is a solemn one, and of course, given by mutual
+consent, by mutual consent, also, must it be withdrawn, otherwise, it
+is considered still binding. Whenever death removes one of the parties,
+without the other having had an opportunity of “giving it back,” the
+surviving party comes, and in the presence of witnesses first grasping
+the hand of the deceased, repeats the form of words usual in withdrawing
+it. Some of these scenes are very touching and impressive, particularly
+one which the author had an opportunity of witnessing. It is supposed
+that in cases of death, if the promise be not thus dissolved, the spirit
+of the departed returns and haunts the survivor until it be cancelled.
+
+When Denis and Susan had reached the hawthorn, they both knelt down.
+So exhausted, however, had Susan been by the agitation of her feelings,
+that Denis was under the necessity of assisting her to the place.
+He could perceive, too, that, amid the workings of her religious
+enthusiasm, she trembled like an aspen leaf.
+
+“Now,” said she, “you are stronger than I am, begin and repeat the
+words; I will repeat them with you.”
+
+“No,” replied Denis, “I will never begin. I will never be the first to
+seal both your misery and mine.”
+
+“I am scarcely able,” said she; “dear Denis, don't ask me to do what
+I have not strength for. But it's useless,” she added; “you will never
+begin unless I do.”
+
+They then blessed themselves after the form of their church, and as they
+extended their right hands to each other, the tears fell fast from the
+eyes of both. The words they repeated were the same, with the difference
+of the name only.
+
+“I, Susan Connor, in the presence of God, do release you, Denis
+O'Shaughnessy, from your promise of marriage to me, and from all
+promises of marriage that you ever made me. I now give you back that
+promise of marriage, and all promises of marriage you ever made me. To
+which I call God to witness.”
+
+Denis repeated the same words, substituting the name of Susan Connor.
+
+The sobs of Susan were loud and incessant, even before she had concluded
+the words; their eyes were fixed upon each other with a hopeless and
+agonizing expression: but no sooner were they uttered, than a strong
+hysteric sense of suffocation rose to her throat; she panted rapidly for
+breath; Denis opened his arms, and she fell, or rather threw herself,
+over in a swoon upon his bosom. To press his lips to hers, and carry her
+to the brink of the well, was but the work of a moment. There he laid
+her, and after having sprinkled her face with water, proceeded to slap
+the palms of her hands, exclaiming,--
+
+“Susan, my beloved, will you not hear me? Oh, look upon me, my heart's
+dearest treasure, and tell me that you're living. Gracious God! her
+heart is broken--she is dead! This--this--is the severest blow of all! I
+have killed her!”
+
+She opened her eyes as he spoke, and Denis, in stooping to assist her,
+weeping at the same time like a child; received--a bang from a cudgel
+that made his head ring.
+
+“Your sowl to the divil, you larned vagabone,” said her father, for
+it was he, “is this the way you're preparin' yourself for the church?
+Comin' over that innocent colleen of a daughter o' mine before you
+set out,” he added, taking Denis a second thwack across the
+shoulders--“before you set out for Maynewth!!”
+
+“Why, you miserable vulgarian,” said Denis, “I scorn you from the head
+to the heel. Desist, I say,” for the father was about to lay in another
+swinger upon his kidney--“desist, I say, and don't approximate, or I
+will entangle the ribs of you!”
+
+“My sowl to glory,” said the father, “if ever I had a greater mind
+to ate my dinner, than I have to anoint you wid this cudgel, you
+black-coated skamer!”
+
+“Get out, you barbarian,” replied Denis, “how dare you talk about
+unction in connection with a cudgel? Desist, I say, for I will
+retaliate, if you approximate an inch. Desist, or I will baptize you in
+the well as Philip did the Ethiopian, without a sponsor. No man but a
+miserable barbarian would have had the vulgarity to interrupt us in the
+manner you did. Look at your daughter's situation!”
+
+“The hussy,” replied the father, “it's the supper she ought to have
+ready, instead of coortin' wid sich a larned vag----Heavens above me!
+What ails my child? Susy! Susy, _alanna dhas!_ what's over you? Oh, I
+see how it is,” he continued--“I see how it is! This accounts for her
+low spirits an' bad health for some time past! Susy, rouse yourself,
+avourneen! Sure I'm not angry wid you! My sowl to glory, Denis
+Shaughnessy, but you have broke my child's heart, I doubt!”
+
+“Owen,” said Denis, “your indecorous interruption has stamped you with
+the signature of genuine ignorance and vulgarity; still, I say, we must
+have some conversation on that subject immediately. Yes, I love your
+daughter a thousand times better than nay own life.”
+
+“Faith, I'll take care that we'll have discoorse about it,” replied the
+father. “If you have been a villain to the innocent girl--if you have,
+Denny, why you'll meet your God sooner than you think. Mark my words.
+I have but one life, and I'll lose it for her sake, if she has come to
+ill.”
+
+“Here,”, said Denis, “let me sprinkle her face with this cool water,
+that we may recover her, if possible. Your anger and your outrage, Owen,
+overcame the timid creature. Speak kindly to her, she is recovering.
+Thank God, she is recovering.”
+
+“Susy, avourneen,” said the father, “rouse yourself,' ma colleen; rouse
+yourself, an' don't thrimble that way. The sorra one o' me's angry wid
+you, at all at all.”
+
+“Oh, bring me home,” said the poor girl. “Father, dear, have no bad
+opinion of me. I done nothing, an' I hope I never will do anything, that
+would bring the blush of shame to your face.”
+
+“That's as true as that God's in heaven,” observed Denis. “The angels in
+his presence be not purer than she is.”
+
+“I take her own word for it,” said the father; “a lie, to the best of my
+knowledge, never came from her lips.”
+
+“Let us assist her home,” said Denis. “I told you that we must have some
+serious conversation about her. I'll take one arm, and do you take the
+other.”
+
+“Do so,” said the father, “an', Denny, as you're the youngest and the
+strongest, jist take up that pitcher o' wather in your hand, an' carry
+it to the house above.”
+
+Denis, who was dressed in his best black from top to toe, made a wry
+face or two at this proposal. He was able, however, for Susan's sake, to
+compromise his dignity: so looking about him, to be certain that there
+was no other person observing them, he seized the pitcher in one hand,
+gave Susan his arm, and in this unheroic manner assisted to conduct her
+home.
+
+In about half an hour or better after this, Denis and Owen Connor
+proceeded in close and earnest conversation towards old Shaughnessy's.
+On entering, Denis requested to speak with his father and brothers in
+private.
+
+“Father,” said he, “this night is pregnant--that is, _vulgariter_, in
+the family way--with my fate.”
+
+“Throth, it is, avick. Glory be to Goodness!”
+
+“Here is Owen Connor, an honest, dacent neighbor--”
+
+“Throth, he is an honest, dacent man, said the lather, interrupting him.
+
+“Yes,” replied the son, “I agree with you. Well, he has a certain
+disclosure or proposal to make, which you will be pleased to take into
+your most serious consideration. I, for my part, cannot help being
+endowed with my own gifts, and if I happen to possess a magnet to
+attract feminine sensibility, it is to heaven I owe it, and not to
+myself.”
+
+“It is,”--said the father, “glory be to his name!”
+
+“Don't be alarmed, or surprised, or angry, at anything Owen Connor may
+say to you. I speak significantly. There are perplexities in all human
+events, and the cardinal hinge of fate is forever turning. Now I must
+withdraw; but in, the meantime I will be found taking a serenade behind
+the garden, if I am wanted.”
+
+“Brian,” said the father, “get the bottle; we can't on this night, any
+way, talk to Owen Connor, or to anybody else, wid dhry lips.”
+
+The bottle was accordingly got, and Owen, with no very agreeable
+anticipations, found himself compelled to introduce a very hazardous
+topic.
+
+Denis, as he said, continued to walk to and fro behind the garden. He
+thought over the incidents of the evening, but had no hope that Owen
+Connor's proposal would be accepted. He knew his father and family too
+well for that. With respect to Susan's vow, he felt certain that any
+change of opinion on her part was equally improbable. It was clear,
+then, that he had no pretext for avoiding Maynooth; and as the shame,
+affliction, and indignation of the family would, he knew, be terrible,
+he resolved to conform himself to his circumstances, trusting to absence
+for that diminution of affection which it often produces. Having settled
+these points in his mind, he began to grope that part of his head which
+had come in contact with Owen Connor's cudgel. He had strong surmises
+that a bump existed, and on examining, he found that a powerful organ of
+self-esteem had been created.
+
+At this moment he saw Owen Connor running past him at full speed,
+pursued by his father and brothers, the father brandishing a cudgel
+in his hand. The son, who understood all, intercepted the pursuers,
+commanding them, in a loud voice to stop. With his brothers he
+succeeded; but the father's wrath was not to be appeased so easily.
+Nothing now remained but to stand in his way, and arrest him by friendly
+violence; Denis, therefore, seized him, and, by assuming all his
+authority, at length prevailed upon him to give over the chase.
+
+“Only think of him,” exclaimed the father, breathless--“only think
+of him havin' the assurance to propose a match between you an' his
+baby-faced daughter! Ho! _Dher manhim_, Owen Connor,” he shouted,
+shaking the staff at Owen as he spoke--“_Dher manhim!_ if I was near
+you, I'd put your bones through other, for darin' to mintion sich a
+thing!”
+
+Owen Connor, on finding that he was na longer pursued, stood to
+reconnoitre the enemy:--
+
+“Denis Oge,” he shouted back, “be on to Maynooth as fast as possible,
+except you wish to have my poor child left fatherless entirely. Go way,
+an' my blessin' be along wid you; but let there be never another word
+about that business while you live.”
+
+“Father,” said Denis, “I'm scandalized at your conduct on this dignified
+occasion. I am also angry with Brian and the rest of you. Did you not
+observe that the decent man was advanced in liquor? I would have told
+you so at once, were it not that he was present while I spoke. Did I not
+give you as strong a hint as possible? Did I not tell you that 'I
+spoke significantly?' Now hear me. Take the first opportunity of being
+reconciled to Owen Connor. Be civil to him; for I assure you he esteems
+me very highly. Be also kind to his daughter, who is an excellent girl;
+but I repeat it, her father esteems me highly.”
+
+“Does he think highly of you, Denis?”
+
+“I have said so,” he replied.
+
+“Then, throth, we're sorry for what has happened, poor man. But the
+never a one o' me, Denis, saw the laste sign of liquor about him.
+Throth, we will make it up wid him, thin. An' we'll be kind to his
+daughter, too, Denis.”
+
+“Then as a proof that you will follow my advice, I lay it on you as a
+duty, to let me know how they are, whenever you write to me.”
+
+“Throth, we will, Denis;--indeed will we. Come in now, dear; this is
+the last night you're to be wid us, an' they're all missin! you in the
+house.”
+
+On that night no person slept in Denis O'Shaughnessy's, except our hero,
+and his mother and sisters. As morning approached a heaviness of spirits
+prevailed among the family, which of course was not felt by any except
+his immediate relations. The more distant friends, who remained with
+them for the night, sang and plied the bottle with a steadiness which
+prevented them from feeling the want of rest. About six o'clock,
+breakfast was ready, Denis dressed, and every arrangement made for his
+immediate departure. His parents--his brothers, and his sisters were
+all in tears, and he himself could master his emotions with great
+difficulty. At length the hour to which the family of our candidate had
+long looked forward, arrived, and Denis rose to depart for Maynooth.
+Except by the sobs and weeping, the silence was unbroken when he stood
+up to bid them farewell.
+
+The first he embraced was his eldest brother, Brian: “Brian,” said he,
+but he could not proceed--his voice failed him: he then extended his
+hand, but Brian clasped him in tis arms--kissed his beloved brother, and
+wept with strong grief; even then there was not a dry eye in the house.
+The parting with his other brothers was equally tender--they wept loudly
+and bitterly, and Denis joined in their grief. Then came his sisters,
+who, one by one, hung upon him, and sobbed as if he had been dead. The
+grief of his youngest sister, Susan, was excessive. She threw her arms
+about his neck, and said she would not let him go; Denis pressed her
+to his heart, and the grief which he felt, seemed to penetrate his very
+soul.
+
+“Susan,” said he, “Susan, may the blessing of God rest upon you till I
+see you again!”--and the affectionate girl was literally torn from his
+arms.
+
+But how came the most affecting part of the ceremony. His parents had
+stood apart--their hands locked in each other, both in tears, whilst
+he took leave of the rest. He now approached his mother, and reverently
+kneeling down, implored in words scarcely intelligible, her blessing
+and forgiveness; he extended both his hands--“Mother,” he added, “I
+ask--humbly and penitently, I ask your blessing; it will be sweet to me
+from your beloved lips, dear mother;--pardon me if I ever--as I feel I
+often did--caused you a pang of sorrow by my disobedience and folly. Oh,
+pardon me--pardon me for all now! Bless your son, kindest of mothers,
+with your best and tenderest blessing!”
+
+She threw herself in his arms, and locking him in her embrace, imprinted
+every part of his face with kisses. “Oh, Denis,” she exclaimed, “there
+is but one more who will miss you more nor I will--Oh, my darlin'
+son--our pride--our pride--our heart's pride--our honor, and our credit!
+Sure, _anim machree_, I have nothin' to forgive you for, my heart's
+life; but may the blessin' of God and of a happy mother light on you!
+And, Denis _asthore_, wasn't it you that made me happy, and that made us
+all happy. May my blessin' and the blessin' of God rest upon you--keep
+you from every evil, and in every good, till my eyes will be made glad
+by lookin' on you agin!”
+
+A grief more deep, and a happiness more full, than had yet been felt,
+were now to come forth. Denis turned to his father--his companion
+in many a pastime, and in many a walk about their native fields. In
+fair--in market--at mass--and at every rustic amusement within their
+reach--had he been ever at the side of that indulgent father, whose
+heart and soul were placed in him. Denis could not utter a word, but
+kept his streaming eyes fixed upon the old man, with that yearning
+expression of the heart which is felt when it desires to be mingled
+with the very existence of the object that it loves. Old Denis advanced,
+under powerful struggles, to suppress his grief; he knelt, and, as the
+tears ran in silence down his cheeks, thus addressed himself to God:--
+
+“I kneel down before you, oh, my God a poor sinner! I kneel here in your
+blessed presence, with a heart--with a happy heartens day, to return you
+thanks in the name of myself and the beloved partner you have given me
+through the cares and thrials of this world, to give you our heart's
+best thanks for graciously permittin' us to see this day! It is to you
+we owe it, good Father of Heaven! It is to you we owe this--an' him--my
+heart's own son, that kneels before me to be blessed by my lips!
+Yes--yes, he is--he is the pride of our lives!--He is the mornin' star
+among us! he was ever a good son; and you know that from the day he was
+born to this minute, he never gave me a sore heart! Take him under your
+own protection! Oh, bless him as we wish, if it be your holy will to
+do so!--Bless him and guard him, for my heart's in him: it is--he knows
+it--everybody knows it;--and if anything was to happen him----”
+
+He could proceed no further: the idea of losing his son, even in
+imagination, overpowered him;--he rose, locked him to his breast, and
+for many minutes the grief of both was loud and vehement.
+
+Denis's uncle now interposed: “The horses,” said he, “are at the door,
+an' time's passin'.”
+
+“Och, thrue for you, Barny,” said old Denis; “come, _acushla_, an'
+let me help you on your horse. We will go on quickly, as we're to meet
+Father Finnerty at the crass-roads.”
+
+Denis then shook hands with them all, not forgetting honest Phadrick
+Murray, who exclaimed, as he bid him farewell, “Arrah! Misther Denis,
+aroon, won't you be thinkin' of me now an' thin in the College? Faix,
+if you always argue as bravely wid the Collegians as you did the day you
+proved me to be an ass you'll soon be at the head of them!”
+
+“Denis,” said the uncle, “your father excuses me in regard of havin' to
+attend my cattle in the fair to-day. You won't be angry wid me, dear,
+for lavin' you now, as my road lies this other way. May the blessin'
+of God and his holy mother keep you till I see you agin! an', Denis, if
+you'd send me a scrape or two, lettin' me know what a good parish 'ud be
+worth; for I intend next spring to go wid little Barny to the Latin!”
+
+This Denis promised to do; and after bidding him farewell, he and
+his friends--some on horseback and numbers on foot--set out on their
+journey; and as they proceeded through their own neighborhood, many
+a crowd was collected to get a sight of Denis O'Shaughnessy going to
+Maynooth.
+
+*****
+
+It was one day in autumn, after a lapse of about two years, that the
+following conversation took place between a wealthy grazier from the
+neighboring parish, and one of our hero's most intimate, acquaintances.
+It is valuable only as it throws light upon Denis's ultimate situation
+in life, which, after all, was not what our readers might be inclined to
+expect.
+
+“Why, then, honest man,” said Denis's friend, “that's a murdherin' fine
+dhrove o' bullocks you're bringin' to the fair?”
+
+“Ay!” replied the grazier, “you may say that. I'm thinkin' it wouldn't
+be asay to aquil them.”
+
+“Faix, sure enough. Where wor they fed, wid simmission?”
+
+“Up in Teernahusshogue. Arrah, will you tell me what weddin' was that
+that passed awhile agone?”
+
+“A son of ould Denis O'Shaughnessy's, God be merciful to his sowl!”
+
+“Denis O'Shaughnessy! Is it him they called the 'Pigeon-house?' An' is
+it possible he's dead?”
+
+“He's dead, nabor, an' in throth, an honest man's dead!”
+
+“As ever broke the world's bread. The Lord make his bed in heaven this
+day! Hasn't he a son larnin' to be a priest in May-newth?”
+
+“Ah! _Fahreer gairh!_ That's all over.”
+
+“Why, is he dead, too?”
+
+“Be Gorra, no--but the conthrairy to that. 'Twas his weddin' you seen
+passin' a minute agone.”
+
+“Is it the young sogarth's? Musha, bad end to you, man alive, an' spake
+out. Tell us how that happened. Sowl it's a quare business, an' him was
+in Maynewth!”
+
+“Faith, he was so; an' they say there wasn't a man in Maynewth able to
+tache him. But, passin' that over--you see, the father, ould Denis--an'
+be Gorra, he was very bright, too, till the son grewn up, an' drownded
+him wid the languidges--the father, you see, ould Denis himself, tuck
+a faver whin the son was near a year in the college, an' it proved too
+many for him. He died; an' whin young Dinny hard of it, the divil a one
+of him would stay any longer in Maynewth. He came home like a scarecrow,
+said he lost his health in it, an' refused to go back. Faith, it was
+a lucky thing that his father died beforehand, for it would brake his
+heart. As it was, they had terrible work about it. But ould Denis is
+never dead while young Denis is livin'. Faix, he was as stiff as they
+wor stout, an' wouldn't give in; so, afther ever so much' wranglin',
+he got the upper hand by tellin' them that he wasn't able to bear the
+college at all; an' that if he'd go back to it he'd soon folly his
+father.”
+
+“An' what turned him against the college? Was that thrue?”
+
+“Thrue!--thrue indeed! The same youth was never at a loss for a piece
+of invintion whin it sarved him. No, the sarra word of thruth at all
+was in it. He soodered an' palavered a daughther of Owen Connor's,
+Susy--all the daughther he has, indeed--before he wint to Maynewth at
+all, they say. She herself wasn't for marryin' him, in regard of a vow
+she had; but there's no doubt but he made her fond of him, for he has a
+tongue that 'ud make black white, or white black, for that matther.
+So, be Gorra, he got the vow taken off of her by the Bishop; she soon
+recovered her health, for she was dyin' for love of him, an'--you seen
+their weddin'. It 'ud be worth your while to go a day's journey to get
+a sight of her--she's allowed to be the purtiest girl that ever was in
+this part o' the counthry.”
+
+“Well! well! It's a quare world. An' is the family all agreeable to it
+now?”
+
+“Hut! where was the use of houldin' out aginst him? I tell you, he'd
+make them agreeable to any thing, wanst he tuck it into his head.
+Indeed, it's he that has the great larnin' all out! Why, now, you'd
+hardly b'lieve me, when I tell you that he'd prove you to be an ass in
+three minutes; make it as plain as the sun. He would; an' often made an
+ass o' myself.”
+
+“Why, now that I look at you--aren't you Dan Murray's nephew?”
+
+“Phadrick Murray, an' divil a one else, sure enough.”
+
+“How is your family, Phadrick? Why, man, you don't know your friends--my
+name's Cahill.”
+
+“Is it Andy Cahill of Phuldhu? Why, thin, death alive, Andy, how is
+every bit of you? Andy, I'm regulatin' everything at this weddin', an'
+you must turn over your horse till we have a dhrop for ould times. Bless
+my sowl! sure, I'd know your brother round a corner; an' yourself, too,
+I ought to know, only that I didn't see you since you wor a slip of a
+gorsoon. Come away, man, sure thim men o' yours can take care o' the
+cattle. You'll asily overtake thim.”
+
+“Throth, I don't care if I have a glass wid an ould friend. But, I hope
+your whiskey won't overtake me, Phadrick?”
+
+“The never a fear of it, your father's son has too good a head for that.
+Ough! man alive, if you could stay for the weddin'! Divil a sich a let
+out ever was seen in the county widin the mimory of the ouldest man
+in it, as it'll be. Denis is the boy that 'ud have the dacent thing or
+nothin'.”
+
+The grazier and Phadrick Murray then bent their steps to Owen Connor's
+house, where the wedding was held. It is unnecessary to say that
+Phadrick plied his new acquaintance to some purpose. Ere two hours
+passed the latter had forgotten his bullocks as completely as if he had
+never seen them, and his drovers were left to their own discretion in
+effecting their sale. As for Andy Cahill, like many another sapient
+Irishman, he preferred his pleasure to his business, got drunk, and
+danced, and sung at Denis O'Shaughnessy's wedding, which we are bound to
+say was the longest, the most hospitable, and most frolicsome that ever
+has been remembered in the parish from that day to the present.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
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+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry, Part 5 by William Carleton
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre     { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Going To Maynooth, by William Carleton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Going To Maynooth
+       Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of
+              William Carleton, Volume Three
+
+Author: William Carleton
+
+Illustrator: M. L. Flanery
+
+Release Date: June 7, 2005 [EBook #16016]
+Last Updated: March 2, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOING TO MAYNOOTH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+    <h1>
+      TRAITS AND STORIES OF THE IRISH PEASANTRY
+    </h1>
+    <h2>
+      BY WILLIAM CARLETON
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      PART V.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001">
+      <!-- IMG --></a>
+    </p>
+    <div class="fig" style="width:80%">
+      <img src="images/page985.jpg" alt="Frontispiece " width="100%" /><br />
+    </div>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002">
+      <!-- IMG --></a>
+    </p>
+    <div class="fig" style="width:80%">
+      <img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="Titlepage " width="100%" /><br />
+    </div>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      List of Illustrations
+    </h2>
+    <table summary="">
+      <tr>
+        <td>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#linkimage-0001"> Frontispiece </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#linkimage-0002"> Titlepage </a>
+          </p>
+          <p class="toc">
+            <a href="#linkimage-0003"> Page 985&mdash; You're a Fool, Misther
+            O'Shaughnessy! </a>
+          </p>
+        </td>
+      </tr>
+    </table>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      GOING TO MAYNOOTH.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Young Denis O'Shaughnessy was old Denis's son; and old Denis, like many
+      great men before him, was the son of his father and mother in particular,
+      and a long line of respectable ancestors in general. He was, moreover, a
+      great historian, a perplexing controversialist, deeply read in Dr.
+      Gallagher and Pastorini, and equally profound in the history of Harry the
+      Eighth, and Luther's partnership with the devil. Denis was a tall man,
+      who, from his peculiar appearance, and the nature of his dress, a light
+      drab-colored frieze, was nicknamed the Walking Pigeon-house; and truly, on
+      seeing him at a distance, a man might naturally enough hit upon a worse
+      comparison. He was quite straight, carried both his arms hanging by his
+      sides, motionless and at their full length, like the pendulums of a clock
+      that has ceased going. In his head, neck, and chest there was no muscular
+      action visible; he walked, in fact, as if a milk-pail were upon his crown,
+      or as if a single nod of his would put the planets out of order. But the
+      principal cause of the similarity lay in his roundness, which resembled
+      that of a pump, running to a point, or the pigeon-house aforesaid, which
+      is still better.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis, though a large man, was but a small farmer, for he rented only
+      eighteen acres of good land. His family, however, like himself, was large,
+      consisting of thirteen children, among whom Denis junior stood
+      pre-eminent. Like old Denis, he was exceedingly long-winded in argument,
+      pedantic as the schoolmaster who taught him, and capable of taking a very
+      comprehensive grasp of any tangible subject.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Young Denis's display of controversial talents was so remarkably
+      precocious, that he controverted his father's statements upon all possible
+      subjects, with a freedom from embarrassment which promised well for that
+      most distinguished trait in a controversialist&mdash;hardihood of
+      countenance. This delighted old Denis to the finger ends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dinny, if he's spared,&rdquo; he would say, &ldquo;will be a credit to us all yet.
+      The sorra one of him but's as manly as anything, and as longheaded as a
+      four-footed baste, so he is! nothing daunts or dashes him, or puts him to
+      an amplush: but he'll look you in the face so stout an' cute, an' never
+      redden or stumble, whether he's right or wrong, that it does one's heart
+      good to see him. Then he has such a laning to it, you see, that the
+      crathur 'ud ground an argument on anything, thin draw it out to a
+      norration an' make it as clear as rock-water, besides incensing you so
+      well into the rason of the thing, that Father Finnerty himself 'ud hardly
+      do it betther from the althar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The highest object of an Irish peasant's ambition is to see his son a
+      priest. Whenever a farmer happens to have a large family, he usually
+      destines one of them for the church, if his circumstances are at all such
+      as can enable him to afford the boy a proper education. This youth becomes
+      the centre in which all the affections of the family meet. He is
+      cherished, humored in all his caprices, indulged in his boyish
+      predilections, and raised over the heads of his brothers, independently of
+      all personal or relative merit in himself. The consequence is, that he
+      gradually became self-willed, proud, and arrogant, often to an offensive
+      degree; but all this is frequently mixed up with a lofty bombast, and an
+      under-current of strong disguised affection, that render his early life
+      remarkably ludicrous and amusing. Indeed, the pranks of pedantry, the
+      pretensions to knowledge, and the humor with which it is mostly displayed,
+      render these scions of divinity, in their intercourse with the people
+      until the period of preparatory education is completed, the most
+      interesting and comical class, perhaps, to be found in the kingdom. Of
+      these learned priestlings young Denis was undoubtedly a first-rate
+      specimen. His father, a man of no education, was, nevertheless, as
+      profound and unfathomable upon his favorite subjects as a philosopher; but
+      this profundity raised him mightily in the opinion of the people, who
+      admired him the more the less they understood him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now old Denis was determined that young Denis should tread in his own
+      footsteps; and, sooth to say, young Denis possessed as bright a talent for
+      the dark and mysterious as the father himself. No sooner had the son
+      commenced Latin with the intention of adorning the church, than the father
+      put him in training for controversy. For a considerable time the laurels
+      were uniformly borne away by the veteran: but what will not learning do?
+      Ere long the son got as far as syntax, about which time the father began
+      to lose ground, in consequence of some ugly quotations which the son threw
+      into his gizzard, and which unfortunately stuck there. By and by the
+      father receded more and more, as the son advanced in his Latin and Greek,
+      until, at length, the encounters were only resorted to for the purpose of
+      showing off the son.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When young Denis had reached the age of sixteen or seventeen, he was
+      looked upon by his father and his family, as well as by all their
+      relations in general, as a prodigy. It was amusing to witness the delight
+      with which the worthy man would call upon his son to exhibit his talents,
+      a call to which the son instantly attended. This was usually done by
+      commencing a mock controversy, for the gratification of some neighbor to
+      whom the father was anxious to prove the great talents of his son. When
+      old Denis got the young sogarth fairly in motion, he gently drew himself
+      out of the dispute, but continued a running comment upon the son's
+      erudition, pointed out his good things, and occasionally resumed the
+      posture of the controversialist to reinspirit the boy if he appeared to
+      flag.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dinny, abouchal, will you come up till Phadrick Murray hears you arguin'
+      Scripthur wid myself, Dinny. Now, Phadrick, listen, but keep your tongue
+      sayin' nothin'; just lave us to ourselves. Come up, Dinny, till you have a
+      hate at arguin' wid myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fadher, I condimnate you at once&mdash;I condimnate you as being a most
+      ungrammatical ould man, an' not fit to argue wid any one that knows
+      Murray's English Grammar, an' more espaciously the three concords of
+      Lily's Latin one; that is the cognation between the nominative case and
+      the verb, the consanguinity between the substantive and the adjective, and
+      the blood-relationship that irritates between the relative and the
+      antecedent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tould you, Phadrick!! There's the boy that can rattle off the high
+      English, and the larned Latin, jist as if he was born wid an English
+      Dictionary in one cheek, a Latin Neksuggawn in the other, an Doctor
+      Gallagher's Irish Sarmons nately on the top of his tongue between the
+      two.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fadher, but that unfortunately I am afflicted wid modesty, I'd blush
+      crocus for your ignorance, as Virgil asserts in his Bucolics, <i>ut
+      Virgilius ait in Bucolids</i>; and as Horatius, a book that I'm well
+      acquainted wid, says in another place, <i>Huc pertinent verba</i>, says
+      he, <i>commodandi, comparandi, dandi, prornittendi, soluendi imperandi
+      nuntiandi, fidendi, obsequendi, minandi irascendi, et iis contraria</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's a good boy, Dinny; but why would you blush for my ignorance,
+      avourneen? Take care of yourself now an' spake deep, for I'll outargue you
+      at the heel o' the hunt, cute as you are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do I blush for your ignorance, is it? Why thin, I'm sure I have sound
+      rasons for it; only think of the gross persivarance wid which you call
+      that larned work, the Lexicon in Greek, a neck-suggan. Fadher, never,
+      attimpt to argue or display your ignorance wid me again. But, moreover, I
+      can probate you to be an ungrammatical man from your own modus of
+      argument.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go an, avourneen. Phadrick!!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm listenin'. The sorra's no match for his cuteness, an' one's puzzled
+      to think where he can get it all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you don't know at all what I could do by larnin'. It would be no
+      throuble to me to divide myself into two halves, an' argue the one agin
+      the other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would, in throth, Dinny.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, father, or cut myself acrass, an' dispute my head, maybe, agin my
+      heels.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Throth, would you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or practise logic wid my right hand, and bate that agin wid my left.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The sarra lie in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or read the Greek Tistament wid my right eye, an thranslate it at the
+      same time wid my left, according to the Greek an' English sides of my
+      face, wid my tongue constrein' into Irish, unknownst to both o' them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Denis, he must have a head like a bell to be able to get into
+      things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Throth an' he has that, an' 'ill make a noise in conthroversy yet, if he
+      lives. Now, Dinny, let us have a hate at histhory.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A hate at histhory?&mdash;wid all my heart; but before we begin, I tell
+      you that I'll confound you precipitately; for you see, if you bate me in
+      the English, I'll scarify you wid Latin, and give you a bang or two of
+      Greek into the bargain. Och! I wish you'd hear the sackin' I gave Tom
+      Reilly the other day; rubbed him down, as the masther says, wid a Greek
+      towel, an' whenever I complimented him with the loan of a cut on the head,
+      I always gave him a plaster of Latin to heal it; but the sorra worse
+      healin' flesh in the world than Tom's is for the Latin, so I bruised a few
+      Greek roots and laid them to his caput so nate, that you'd laugh to see
+      him. Well is it histhory we are to begin wid? If it is, come on&mdash;advance.
+      I'm ready for you&mdash;in protection&mdash;wid my guards up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ha, ha, ha! Well, if he isn't the drollest crathur, an' so cute! But now
+      for the histhory. Can you prove to me, upon a clear foundation, the differ
+      atween black an' white, or prove that Phadrick Murray here, long life to
+      him, is an ass? Now, Phadrick, listen, for you must decide betune us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Orra, have you no other larnin' than that to argue upon? Sure if you call
+      upon me to decide, I must give it agin Dinny. Why my judgment won't be
+      worth a hap'orth, if he makes an ass of me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What matther how you decide, man alive, if he proves you to be one; sure
+      that is all we want. Never heed shakin' your head&mdash;listen an' it will
+      be well worth your while. Why, man, you'll know more nor you ever knew or
+      suspected before, when he proves you to be an ass.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the first place, fadher, you're ungrammatical in one word; instead of
+      sayin' 'prove,' always say probate, or probe; the word is descended, that
+      is, the ancisthor of it, is probo, a deep Greek word&mdash;probo, probas,
+      prob-ass, that is to say, I'm to probe Phadrick here to be an ass. Now, do
+      you see how pat I brought that in? That's the way, Phadrick, I chastise my
+      fadher with the languages.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In throth it is; go an avick. Phadrick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm listenin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Phadrick, do you know the differ atween black an' white'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Atween black an' white? Hut, gorsoon, to be sure I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, an' what might it be, Phadrick, my larned Athiop? What might it be,
+      I negotiate?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, thin, the differ atween them is this, Dinny, that black is&mdash;let
+      me see&mdash;why&mdash;that black is not red&mdash;nor yallow&mdash;nor
+      brown&mdash;nor green&mdash;nor purple&mdash;not cut-beard&mdash;nor a
+      heather color&mdash;nor a grog-ram&rdquo;&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor a white?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely, Dinny, not a white, abouchal; don't think to come over me that
+      way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I want to know what color it is, most larned sager.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All rasonable, Dinny, Why, thin, black is&mdash;let me see&mdash;hut,
+      death alive!&mdash;it's&mdash;a&mdash;a&mdash;why, it's black, an' that's
+      all I can say about it; yes, faix, I can&mdash;black is the color of
+      Father Curtis's coat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' what color is that, Phadrick?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it's black, to be sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, now, what color is white, Phadrick?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it's a snow-color: for all the world the color of snow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;White is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, is it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The dear help your head, Phadrick, if that's all you know about snow. In
+      England, man, snow is an Oxford gray, an' in Scotland, a pepper an' salt,
+      an' sometimes a cut-beard, when they get a hard winther. I found that much
+      in the Greek, any way, Phadrick. Thry agin, you imigrant, I'll give you
+      another chance&mdash;what color is white?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, thin, it's&mdash;white&mdash;an' nothin' else. The sorra one but
+      you'd puzzle a saint wid your long-headed screwtations from books.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So, Phadrick, your preamble is, that white is white, an' black is black?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Asy avick. I said, sure enough, that white is white; but the black I deny&mdash;I
+      said it was the color of Father Curtis's black coat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you barbarian of the world, how I scorn your profundity an' emotions!
+      You're a disgrace to the human sex by your superciliousness of knowledge,
+      an' your various quotations of ignorance. Ignorantia, Phadrick, is your
+      date an' superscription. Now, stretch out your ears, till I probate, or
+      probe to you the differ atween black an' white.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Phadrick!!&rdquo; said the father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm listenin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Phadrick, here's the griddle, an' here's a clane plate. Do you see
+      them here beside one another?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm lookin' at them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, shut your eyes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that your way, Denis, of judgin' colors?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shut your eyes, I say, till I give you ocular demonstration of the differ
+      atween these two respectable colors.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, they're shut.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' keep them so. Now, what differ do you see atween them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The sorra taste, man alive; I never seen anything in my whole life so
+      clearly of a color as they are both this minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you see now, Phadrick, that there's not the smallest taste o'
+      differ in them, an' that's accordin' to Euclid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure enough, I see the divil a taste o' differ atween the two.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Phadrick, that's the point settled. There's no discrimination at
+      all atween black an' white. They're both of the same color&mdash;so long
+      as you keep your eyes shut.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if a man happens to open his eyes, Dinny?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has no right to open them, Phadrick, if he wants to prove the truth of
+      a thing. I should have said probe&mdash;but it does not significate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The heavens mark you to grace, Dinny. You did that in brave style.
+      Phadrick, ahagur, he'll make the darlin' of an arguer whin he gets the
+      robes an him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't deny that; he'll be aquil to the best o' thim: still, Denis, I'd
+      rather, whin I want to pronounce upon colors, that he'd let me keep my
+      eyes open.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, but he did it out o' the books, man alive; an' there's no goin'
+      beyant thim. Sure he could prove it out of the Divinity, if you went to
+      that. An' what is still more, he could, by shuttin' your eyes, in the same
+      way prove black to be white, an' white black, jist as asy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely myself doesn't doubt it. I suppose, by shuttin' my eyes, the same
+      lad could prove anything to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Dinny, avourneen, you didn't prove Phadrick to be an ass yit. Will
+      you do that by histhory, too, Dinny, or by the norrations of Illocution?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father, I'm surprised at your gross imperception. Why, man, if you were
+      not a <i>rara avis</i> of somnolency, a man of most frolicsome
+      determinations, you'd be able to see that I've proved Phadrick to be an
+      ass already.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Throth, I deny that you did; there wasn't a word about my bein' an ass,
+      in the last discoorse. It was all upon the differ atween black an' white.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, how I scorn your gravity, man! <i>Ignorantia</i>, as I said, is your
+      date an' superscription; an' when you die, you ought to go an' engage a
+      stone-cutter to carve you a headstone, an' make him write on it, <i>Hic
+      jacet Ignorantius Redivicus</i>. An' the translation of that is, accordin'
+      to Publius Virgilius Maro&mdash;'here lies a quadruped who didn't know the
+      differ atween black an' white.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, by the livin', Dinny, I dunna where you get all this deep readin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure he gets it all in the Dixonary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bedad, that Dixonary must be a fine book entirely, to thim that
+      undherstand it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Dinny, will you tell Phadrick the Case of Conscience atween Barny
+      Branagan's two goats an' Parra Ghastha's mare?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fadher, if you were a grammarian, I'd castigate your incompatability as
+      it desarves&mdash;I'd lay the scourge o' syntax upon you, as no man ever
+      got it since the invintion o' the nine parts of speech. By what rule of
+      logic can you say that aither Barny Branagan's goats or Parra Ghastha's
+      mare had a conscience? I tell you it wasn't they had the conscience, but
+      the divine who decided the difficulty. Phadrick, lie down till I
+      illusthrate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is that, Dinny? I can hear you sittin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lie down, you reptile, or I shall decline the narration altogether.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Arra, lie down, Phadrick; sure he only wants to show you the rason o' the
+      thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well; I'm down. Now Dinny, don't let your feet be too larned, if
+      you plase.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence!&mdash;<i>taceto!</i> you reptile. Now, Phadrick, here, on this
+      side o' you, lies Barny Branagan's field; an' there, on that side, lies a
+      field of Parra Ghastha's; you're the ditch o' mud betuxt them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The ditch o' mud! Faix that's dacent!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now here, on Barny Branagan's side, feeds Parra Ghastha's mare; an'
+      there, on Parra Ghastha's side, feed Barny Branagan's goats. Do you
+      comprehend? Do you insinuate?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do&mdash;I do. Death alive! there's no use in punchin' my sides wid
+      your feet that way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, get up now an' set your ears.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now listen to him, Phadrick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was one night in winter, when all nature shone in the nocturnal beauty
+      of tenebrosity: the sun had set about three hours before; an', accordin'
+      to the best logicians, there was a dearth of light. It's the general
+      opinion of philosophers&mdash;that is, of the soundest o' them&mdash;that
+      when the sun is down the moon an' stars are usually up; an' so they were
+      on the night that I'm narratin' about. The moon was, wid great respect to
+      her character, night-walkin' in the sky; and the stars vegetated in
+      celestial genuflexion around her. Nature, Phadrick, was in great state;
+      the earth was undher our feet, an' the sky above us. The frost, too, was
+      hard, Phadrick, the air keen, an' the grass tendher. All things were
+      enrobed wid verisimilitude an' scrupulosity. In this manner was the
+      terraqueous part of our system, when Parra Ghastha's mare, after havin'
+      taken a cowld collation on Barny Branagan's grass, was returnin' to her
+      master's side o' the merin; an' Barny Branagan's goats, havin' tasted the
+      sweets of Parra Ghastha's cabbages, were on their way acrass the said
+      merin to their own side. Now it so happened that they met exactly at a
+      narrow gap in the ditch behind Rosha Halpin's house. The goats, bein'
+      coupled together, got one on each side of the rift, wid the rope that
+      coupled them extended acrass it. The mare stood in the middle of it, so
+      that the goats were in the way of the mare, an' the mare in the way of the
+      goats. In the meantime they surveyed one another wid great composure, but
+      had neither of them the politeness to stir, until Rosha Halpin came
+      suddenly out, an' emptied a vessel of untransparent wather into the ditch.
+      The mare, who must have been an animal endowed wid great sensibility of
+      soul, stooped her head suddenly at the noise; an' the goats, who were
+      equally sentimental, gave a start from nervishness. The mare, on raisin'
+      her head, came in contact wid the cord that united the goats; an' the
+      goats, havin' lost their commandin' position, came in contact wid the neck
+      o' the mare. <i>Quid multis?</i> They pulled an' she pulled, an' she
+      pulled an' they pulled, until at length the mare was compelled to practise
+      the virtue of resignation in the ditch, wid the goats about her neck. She
+      died by suspinsion; but the mettlesome ould crathur, wid a love of justice
+      that did her honor, hanged the goat's in requital; for they departed this
+      vale of tears on the mountain side along wid her, so that they had the
+      satisfaction of dyin' a social death together.&mdash;Now, Phadrick, you
+      quadruped, the case of conscience is, whether Parra Ghastha has a right to
+      make restitution to Barny Branagan for the loss of his goats, or Barny
+      Branagan to Parra Ghastha for the loss of his mare?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bedad, that's a puzzler!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Isn't it, Phadrick? But wait till you hear how he'll clear it up! Do it
+      for Phadrick, Dinny.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yis, Phadrick, I'll illusthrate your intellects by divinity. You see,
+      Phadrick, you're to suppose me to be in the chair, as confessor. Very
+      well,&mdash;or <i>valde</i>, in the larned languages&mdash;Parra Ghastha
+      comes to confess to me, an' tells me that Barny Branagan wants to be paid
+      for his goats. I tell him it's a disputed point, an that the price o' the
+      goats must go to the church. On the other hand, Barny Branagan tells me
+      that Parra Ghastha wishes to be paid for his mare. I say again, it's a
+      disputed point, an' that the price o' the mare must go to the church&mdash;the
+      amount of the proceeds to be applied in prayer towards the benefit of the
+      parties, in the first instance, an' of the faithful in general
+      afterwards.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Phadrick!!!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that I may never, but he bates the globe!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Denny's character is a very common one in the remote parts of Ireland,
+      where knowledge is novelty, and where the slightest tinge of learning is
+      looked upon with such reverence and admiration, as can be properly
+      understood only by those who have an opportunity of witnessing it. Indeed,
+      few circumstances prove the great moral influence which the Irish
+      priesthood possesses over the common people more forcibly, than the
+      extraordinary respect paid by the latter to such as are designed for the
+      &ldquo;mission.&rdquo; The moment the determination is made, an incipient sanctity
+      begins, as it were, to consecrate the young priest; and a high opinion of
+      his learning and talents to be entertained, no matter how dull he may be
+      so far as honest nature is concerned. Whatever he says is sure to have
+      some hidden meaning in it, that would be' highly edifying, if they
+      themselves understood it. But their own humility comes in here to prop up
+      his talents; and whatsoever perplexity there may be in the sense of what
+      he utters, is immediately attributed to learning altogether beyond their
+      depth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Love of learning is a conspicuous principle in an Irish peasant; and in no
+      instance is it seen to greater advantage, than when the object of it
+      appears in the &ldquo;makins of a priest.&rdquo; Among all a peasant's good and evil
+      qualities, this is not the least amiable. How his eye will dance in his
+      head with pride, when the young priest thunders out a line of Virgil or
+      Homer, a sentence from Cicero, or a rule from Syntax! And with what
+      complacency and affection will the father and relations of such a person,
+      when sitting during a winter evening about the hearth, demand from him a
+      translation of what he repeats, or a grammatical analysis, in which he
+      must show the dependencies and relations of word upon word&mdash;the
+      concord, the verb, the mood, the gender, and the case; into every one and
+      all of which the learned youth enters with an air of oracular importance,
+      and a pollysyllabicism of language that fails not in confounding them with
+      astonishment and edification. Neither does Paddy confine himself to Latin
+      or Greek, for his curiosity in hearing a little upon all known branches of
+      human learning is boundless. When a lad is designed for the priesthood, he
+      is, as if by a species of intuition, supposed to know more or less of
+      everything&mdash;astronomy, fluxions, Hebrew, Arabic, and the black art,
+      are subjects upon which he is frequently expected to dilate; and vanity
+      scruples not, under the protection of their ignorance, to lead the erudite
+      youth through what they believe to be the highest regions of imagination,
+      or the profoundest depths of science and philosophy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is, indeed, in those brilliant moments, when the young priest is
+      launching out in full glory upon some topic of which he knows not a
+      syllable, that it would be a learned luxury to catch him. These flights,
+      however, are very pardonable, when we consider the importance they give
+      him in the eyes of his friends, and reflect upon that lofty and
+      contemptuous pride, and those delectable sensations which the appearance
+      of superior knowledge gives to the pedant, whether raw or trained, high or
+      low, in this profession or the other. It matters little that such a
+      feeling dilates the vanity in proportion to the absence of real knowledge
+      or good sense: it is not real, but affected knowledge, we are writing
+      about. Pride is confined to no condition; nor is the juvenile pedantry of
+      a youth upon the hob of an Irish chimney-corner much different from the
+      pride which sits upon the brow of a worthy Lord Mayor, freshly knighted,
+      lolling with strained dignity beside his honorable brother, the mace,
+      during a city procession; or of a Lady Mayoress, when she reads upon a
+      dead wall her own name flaming in yellow capitals, at the head of a
+      subscription ball; or, what is better still, the contemptuous glance
+      which, while about to open the said ball, her ladyship throws at that poor
+      creature&mdash;the Sheriff's wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In addition, however, to the enjoyment of this assumption of profound
+      learning which characterizes the young priest, a different spirit,
+      considerably more practical, often induces him to hook in other motives.
+      The learning of Denis O'Shaughnessy, for instance, blazed with peculiar
+      lustre whenever he felt himself out at elbows; for the logic with which he
+      was able to prove the connection between his erudition and a
+      woollen-draper's shop, was, like the ignorance of those who are to be
+      saved, invincible. Whenever his father considered a display of the son's
+      powers in controversy to be <i>capital</i>, Denis, who knew the <i>mollia
+      tempora fandi</i>, applied to him for a hat. Whenever he drew a heretic,
+      as a person who will be found hereafter without the wedding garment, and
+      clinched the argument with half a dozen quotations from syntax or Greek
+      grammar, he uniformly came down upon the father for a coat, the cloth of
+      which was finer in proportion to the web of logic he wove during the
+      disputation. Whenever he seated himself in the chair of rhetoric, or gave
+      an edifying homily on prayer, with such eloquence as rendered the father's
+      admiration altogether inexpressible, he applied for a pair of
+      smallclothes; and if, in the excursiveness of his vigorous imagination he
+      travelled anywhere beyond the bounds of common sense, he was certain to
+      secure a pair of shoes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This, of course, did not escape the satirical observation of the
+      neighbors, who commented upon the circumstance with that good humor which
+      renders their mother-wit so pleasant and spicy. The scenes where many of
+      these displays took place, varied according to the occurrence of those
+      usual incidents which diversify country life. Sometimes old Denis's hearth
+      was selected; at others, a neighboring wakehouse, and not unfrequently the
+      chapel-green, where, surrounded by a crowd of eager listeners, the young
+      priest and his Latin would succeed in throwing the hedge-schoolmaster and
+      his problems completely into the shade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The father's pride, on these occasions, always prompted him to become the
+      aggressor; but he only did this to draw out the talents of his son to more
+      advantage. Never was man foiled with less regret than old Denis; nor did
+      ever man more bitterly repent those little touches of vanity, which,
+      sometimes induced him, when an opportunity of prostrating Denny arrived,
+      to show what he could have done, by giving the son's argument an
+      unexpected brainblow. These accidental defeats always brought the son!
+      more than he lost by them; for the father usually made him a
+      peace-offering in the shape of pocket-money, books, or clothes. The great
+      amusement of the peasantry around the chapel-green of a Sunday, was to
+      hear the father and son engaged in argument; and so simple was the
+      character of both, that their acquaintances declared, they could know by
+      the state of young Denis's coat, and the swaggering grasp with which old
+      Denis held his staff, that an encounter was about to take place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Young O'Shaughnessy's gettin' bare,&rdquo; they would observe; &ldquo;there'll be
+      hard arguin' till he gets the clothes. He's puttin' in for a black coat
+      now, he's so grave. Go on, Denny,&rdquo; they would say again: &ldquo;more power an' a
+      dacenter sleeve to your elbow. Stick to him!&mdash;very good!&mdash;that's
+      a clincher!&mdash;you're gone beyond the skirts, Denny!&mdash;let him
+      pocket that larnin'. Dinis, you're bate, body and slaves! (* altogether;
+      completely)&mdash;you're no match for the gorsoon, Dinis. Good agin,
+      abouchal!&mdash;that's puttin' the collar on it!&rdquo;&mdash;And so on, varying
+      the phrase according to the whim of the moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing gave the father greater pleasure than these observations, although
+      the affected earnestness with which he encountered the son, and his
+      pretended indignation at those who affirmed him to have been beaten, were
+      highly amusing to the bystanders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Such discussions were considered highly edifying and instructive by them,
+      and they were sometimes at a loss whether to give the palm of ingenuity
+      and eloquence to the father or Denny. The reader, however, must not
+      suppose that the contemptuous expressions scattered over Denny's
+      rhetorical flourishes; when discussing these points with his father,
+      implied want of reverence or affection&mdash;far from it. On the contrary,
+      the father always liked him the better for them, inasmuch as they proved
+      Denny's vast superiority over himself. They were, therefore, only the
+      licenses and embellishments of discussion, tolerated and encouraged by him
+      to whom they were applied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Denny at length shot up to the stature of a young man, probably about
+      eighteen; and during the two last years of his school studies he presented
+      a considerable, if not a decidedly marked change in his character and
+      external appearance. His pride became more haughty, and the consciousness
+      of his learning, and of the influence annexed to the profession for which
+      he was intended, put itself forth with less discussion, but more energy.
+      His manners and attitude became constrained; the expression of his face
+      began to darken, and to mould itself into a stiff, gloomy formality, that
+      was strongly calculated to conceal the natural traits of his character.
+      His dress, too, had undergone a great improvement; for instead of wearing
+      shop blue or brown, he wore good black broad-cloth, had a watch in his
+      fob, a respectable hat, and finer linen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This change, now necessary in consequence of his semiclerical character,
+      influenced him through every relation of life. His nearest friends, whilst
+      their pride in him increased, fell off to a more respectful distance; and
+      his deportment, so far from being that of a good-humored Bobadil of
+      polemics and pedantry upon all known and unknown subjects, became silent
+      and solemn, chequered only during the moments of family conviviality by an
+      excessive flow of that pleasant and still incomprehensible learning for
+      the possession of which he had so honestly earned himself a character.
+      Much of his pedantry was now lopped off, it is true, because the pride of
+      his station prevented him from entering into discussions with the people.
+      It cost him, however, some trouble to overcome his early tendencies; nor,
+      after all, can it be affirmed that he altogether succeeded in eradicating
+      them. Many a grave shrug, and solemn wink, and formal nod, had he to
+      answer for, when his foot touched the debatable land of controversy.
+      Though contrary to the keeping and dignity of his position in life, yet
+      did honest Denny then get desperately significant, and his face amazingly
+      argumentative. Many a pretender has he fairly annihilated by a single
+      smile of contempt that contained more logic than a long argument from
+      another man. In fact, the whole host of rhetorical figures seemed breaking
+      out of his face. By a solitary glance of his eye he could look a man into
+      a dilemma, and practise a <i>sorites</i>, or a homemade syllogism, by the
+      various shiftings of his countenance, as clearly as if he had risen to the
+      full flight of his former bombast. He had, in short, a <i>prima facie</i>
+      disposition to controversy; his nose was set upon his face in a kind of
+      firm defiance against infidels, heretics, and excommunicated persons; and
+      when it curled with contempt of another, or with pride in the power that
+      slumbered in itself, it seemed to give the face from which it projected,
+      and the world at large, the assurance of a controversialist. Nor did his
+      negative talents rest here: a twist of his mouth to the right or left ear,
+      was nicely shaded away into a negative or affirmative, according as he
+      intended it should be taken; and when he used his pocket-handkerchief, he
+      was certain, though without uttering a syllable, to silence his opponent,
+      so contemptuously did his intonations rout the arguments brought against
+      him. The significance and force of all these was heightened by the mystery
+      in which they were wrapped; for whenever unbending decorum constrained him
+      to decline the challenges of the ignorant, with whom discussion would now
+      be degradation, what could he do to soothe his vanity, except, as the poet
+      says, with folded arms and a shaking of the head to exclaim&mdash;&ldquo;<i>Well,
+      well we know;</i> or, <i>if we could, and if we would;</i> or, <i>if we
+      list to speak</i>; or, <i>there be an if they might;</i>&rdquo; which left the
+      imaginations of his hearers at liberty to conceive more fully of those
+      powers which his modesty declined exhibiting. For some time before he got
+      absolutely and finally into black, even his father gave up his accustomed
+      argument in despair. The son had become an adept in all the intricacies
+      and obscurities of Latin, and literally overwhelmed the old man with small
+      inundations of that language, which though, like all inundations, rather
+      muddy, yet were they quite sufficient to sweep the worthy veteran before
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Young Denis O'Shaughnessy was now pretty nearly finished at school, that
+      is to say, almost fit for Maynooth; his studies, though higher, were less
+      assiduous; his leisure was consequently greater; and it is well known,
+      that a person of his character is never asked to work, except it be his
+      own pleasure to labor a day or two, by way of amusement. He might now be
+      seen walking of a warm day along the shady sides of the hedges, with a
+      book in his hand, or stretched listlessly upon the grass, at study; or
+      sauntering about among the neighboring workmen, with his forefinger
+      between the leaves of his book, a monument of learning and industry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is not to be supposed, however, that Denis, who was an Irishman of
+      eighteen, handsome and well made, could be altogether insensible to female
+      beauty, and seductive charms of the sex. During his easy saunterings&mdash;or,
+      as the Scotch say, &ldquo;daunerings&rdquo;&mdash;along the roads and about the green
+      hedges, it often happened that he met a neighbor's daughter; and Denis,
+      who, as a young gentleman of breeding, was bound to be courteous, could
+      not do less than accost her with becoming urbanity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-mornin', Miss Norah,&rdquo; we will suppose him to say, when meeting a
+      good-looking arch girl of his acquaintance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-morrow, Mr. O'Shaughnessy. I hope you're well, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed I am, at present, in superlatively ecclesiastical health, Miss
+      Norah. I hope all your family are well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All very well, I thank you, sir, barrin' myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' pray what's the matther wid you, Miss Norah? I hope&rdquo; (with an
+      exceeding grave but complacent smile) &ldquo;you're not affected wid the amorous
+      passion of love?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that 'ud be tellin', Mr. O'Shaughnessy! But supposin' I am, what
+      ought I to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's really a profound question, Miss Norah. But though I cannot tell
+      you what to do, I can tell you what I think.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' what is that, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Miss Norah, that he who is so beatified as to secure you in the
+      matrimonial paction&mdash;<i>compactum</i> it is in the larned languages&mdash;in
+      other words&mdash;to condescend to your capacity&mdash;he who is married
+      to you will be a happy man. There is a juvenility about your eyes, and an
+      efflorescence of amaranthine odoriferousness about your cheeks and breath
+      that are enough to communicate the centrifugal motion to any brain adorned
+      with the slightest modicum of sentiment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He who marries me will be a happy man!&rdquo; she exclaimed, repeating these
+      expressions, probably because they were the only words she understood. &ldquo;I
+      hope so, Misther O'Shaughnessy. But, sure enough, who'd expect to hear
+      sich soft talk from the makins of a priest? Very well, sir! Upon my word
+      I'll be tellin' Father Finnerty that you do be spakin' up to the girls!&mdash;Now!!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, Miss Norah; you wouldn't do that merely for my sayin' that you're
+      the handsomest girl in the parish. Father Finnerty himself might say as
+      much, for it would be nothing but veracity&mdash;nothing but truth, Miss
+      Norah.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! but he wouldn't be pattin' me on the cheek! Be asy, Mr.
+      O'Shaughnessy; there's Darby Brady lookin' at you, an' he'll be tellin'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where?&rdquo; said Denis, starting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl replied only by an arch laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Upon my classicality, Miss Norah, you're a rogue; there's nobody lookin',
+      you seraphim!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then there's a pair of us rogues, Misther Dinis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, Miss Norah; I was only feeling your cheek as a philosophical
+      experiment. Philosophers often do it, in order to make out an hypothesis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Misther Dinis, if I'm not marrid till you're a priest, won't you say the
+      words for me for nothing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So long as you ask it wid such a brilliant smiled Miss Norah, do you
+      think that any educated young man who has read about beauty an'
+      sentimentality in books, could refuse you? But you know, Miss Norah, that
+      the clergyman who marries a couple has always the right of kissing the
+      bride. Now I wouldn't claim my right then; but it might be possible by a
+      present compromise to&mdash;to&mdash;&mdash;. What would you think, for
+      instance, to give me that now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To give you what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why the&mdash;&mdash;indeed it's but a slight recompense, the&mdash;k&mdash;&mdash;
+      the salutation&mdash;the kiss. You know what tasting the head means?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faix, Misther Dinis, you're a great rogue. Who'd think it indeed? Sure
+      enough, they say smooth water runs deep! Why one 'ud suppose butther
+      wouldn't melt in your mouth to look at you; an' yet you want to be toyin'
+      wid the girls! Indeed an' faix, it's a great shame for the likes o' you,
+      that's bint on Maynooth, to be thinkin' of coortin' at all. But wait! Upon
+      my word, I'll have a fine story agin you, plase goodness!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This latter threat the mischievous girl threw out with a grave face, in
+      order to bring Denis into a more ridiculous dilemma; for she saw clearly
+      that he labored under a heavy struggle between timidity and gallantry. The
+      ruse succeeded. Denis immediately changed his tone, and composed his face
+      into a grave admonitory aspect, nearly equal to a homily on prudence and
+      good conduct.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Norah,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;perhaps I acted wrong in carrying my trial of your
+      disposition too far. It's a thing, however, which we who are intended for
+      the church are ordered to do, that we may be able to make out what are
+      called in this very book you see wid me, cases of conscience. But the task
+      is now over, Miss Norah; and, in requital for your extrame good nature, I
+      am bound to administer to you a slight lecture on decorum.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the first place, attend your duties regularly. I will soon be goin' to
+      Maynooth; an' as you are one of the girls for whom I have the greatest
+      regard, I will expect on my return to hear a good account of you. It is
+      possible that you'll be introduced in my absence to the honors of
+      matrimony; but even so, I know that peace, an' taciturnity, an' submission
+      will be your most signal qualifications. You will then be in a situation
+      equal to that of a Roman matron. As for us, Miss Norah, we are subject to
+      the dilapidations of occasional elevation. The ambrosia of sentiment lies
+      in our path. We care not for the terrestrialities of life, when separated
+      from the great principle of the poet&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      '<i>Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori</i>.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That's Hebrew, Miss Norah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They say you know a power of larnin', Misther Dinis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know the seven languages; but what is all that compared to the
+      cardinal virtues. This world is a mere bird of passage, Miss Norali; and
+      it behooves us to be ever on the wing for futurity and premeditation. Now,
+      will you remember the excellent moral advice I have given you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed I will, sir,&rdquo; replied the roguish minx, tripping away;
+      &ldquo;particularly that you promised to marry me for nothin' if I'd give you a
+      kiss!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give up everything like levity, Miss Norah. Attend your du&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003">
+      <!-- IMG --></a>
+    </p>
+    <div class="fig" style="width:80%">
+      <img src="images/page985.jpg"
+       alt="Page 985-- You're a Fool, Misther O'shaughnessy! " width="100%" /><br />
+    </div>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're a fool, Misther O'Shaughnessy! Why didn't you take the kiss, an'
+      spare the king's English?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On making this observation she redoubled her pace, and left Denis now
+      perfectly sensible that he was a proper subject for her mirth. He turned
+      about, and called after her&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Had I known that you were only in jocosity, Miss Nora, upon my
+      classicality, I'd have given you the k&mdash;&mdash;.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He now perceived that she was beyond hearing, and that it was unnecessary
+      to finish the sentence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These accidental meetings between Denis and the pretty daughters of the
+      neighboring farmers were, somehow, very frequent. Our hero, however, was
+      always extremely judicious in tempering his gallantry and moral advice to
+      his young female acquaintances. In the beginning of the conversation he
+      was sly and complimentary, afterwards he became more insinuating, then
+      more direct in his praises of their beauty; but as his timidity on the
+      point of character was known, the mischief-loving girls uniformly ended
+      with a threat of exposing him to the priest, to his friends, or to the
+      neighbors, as the whim directed them. This brought him back to his
+      morality again; he immediately commenced an exhortation touching their
+      religious duties, thus hoping to cover, by a trait more becoming his
+      future destination, the little harmless badinage in which he had indulged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girls themselves frequently made him the topic of conversation, a
+      proof that he was not altogether indifferent to them. In these little
+      conclaves he came very well off. Among them all it was admitted &ldquo;that
+      there was a rogue in his coat;&rdquo; but this was by no means uttered in a tone
+      of voice that betrayed any disrelish to him. On the contrary, they often
+      said&mdash;and many of them with an involuntary sigh&mdash;that &ldquo;he was
+      too purty to be made a priest of;&rdquo; others, that &ldquo;it was a pity to make a
+      priest of so fine a young man;&rdquo; others, again, that &ldquo;if he must be a
+      priest, the colleens would be all flockin' to hear his sarmons.&rdquo; There was
+      one, however, among them who never mentioned him either in praise or
+      censure; but the rapid changes of her expressive countenance gave strong
+      indications to an observing eye that his name, person, and future
+      prospects were capable of exciting a deep and intense interest in her
+      heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length he began to appear on horseback; and as he had hitherto been in
+      the habit of taking that exercise bare-backed, now he was resolved to get
+      into a saddle, and ride like a gentleman. Henceforth he might be seen
+      mounted upon one of his father's horses, quite erect, and with but one
+      spur, which was, in fact, the only spur, except the whiskey bottle, that
+      had been in the family for three generations. This was used, he declared,
+      for no other purpose in life than that of &ldquo;stimulating the animal to the
+      true clerical trot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From the moment he became a mounted man he assumed an air of less
+      equivocal command in the family; and not only to his own relations was
+      this authority manifested, but to his more distant acquaintances, and, in
+      short, to the whole parish. The people now began to touch their hats to
+      him, which act of respect he returned as much in imitation of the parish
+      priest as possible. They also began to ask him what o'clock it was, and
+      Denis, with a peculiar condescension, balanced still with becoming
+      dignity, stopped, pulled out his watch, and told the hour, after which he
+      held it for a few seconds to his ear with an experienced air, then put it
+      in a dignified manner in his fob, touched the horse with the solitary
+      spur, put himself more erect, and proceeded with&mdash;as he himself used
+      to say, when condemning the pride of the curate&mdash;&ldquo;all the lordliness
+      of the parochial priest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The notions which the peasantry entertain of a priest's learning are as
+      extravagant as they are amusing, and such, indeed, as would be too much
+      for the pedantic vanity inseparable from a half-educated man to disclaim.
+      The people are sufficiently reasonable, however, to admit gradations in
+      the extent of knowledge acquired by their pastors; but some of the figures
+      and illustrations which they use in estimating their comparative merits
+      are highly ludicrous. I remember a young man, who, at the age of
+      twenty-two, set about preparing himself for the church. He lived in the
+      bosom of a mountain, whose rugged breast he cultivated with a strength
+      proportioned to the difficulty of subduing it. He was a powerful young
+      fellow, quiet and inoffensive in his manners, and possessed of great
+      natural talents. It was upon a Monday morning, in the month of June, that
+      the school-room door opened a foot and a half wider than usual, and a
+      huge, colossal figure stalked in, with a kind of bashful laugh upon his
+      countenance, as if conscious of the disproportion betwixt his immense size
+      and that of the other schoolboys. His figure, without a syllable of
+      exaggeration, was precisely such as I am about to describe. His height six
+      feet, his shoulders of an enormous breadth, his head red as fire; his
+      body-coat made after the manner of his grandfather's&mdash;the skirts of
+      it being near his heels&mdash;and the buttons behind little less than
+      eighteen inches asunder. The pockets were cut so low, that when he
+      stretched his arm to its full length, his fingers could not get further
+      than the flaps; the breast of it was about nine inches longer than was
+      necessary, so that when he buttoned it, he appeared all body. He wore no
+      cravat, nor was his shirt-collar either pinned or buttoned, but lay open
+      as if to disclose an immense neck and chest scorched by the sun into a
+      rich and healthy scarlet. His chin was covered with a sole of red-dry
+      bristles, that appeared to have been clipped about a fortnight before; and
+      as he wore neither shoe nor stocking, he exhibited a pair of legs to which
+      Rob Roy's were drumsticks. They gave proof of powerful strength, and the
+      thick fell of bristly hair with which they were covered argued an amazing
+      hardihood of constitution and tremendous physical energy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure, Masther, I'm comin' to school to you!&rdquo; were the first words he
+      uttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now there ran beneath the master's solemnity of manner a broad but shallow
+      under-current of humor, which agreed but poorly with his pompous display
+      of learning. On this occasion his struggle to retain the grave and
+      overcome the ludicrous was unavailing. The startling fact thus uncouthly
+      announced by so grotesque a candidate for classical knowledge occasioned
+      him to receive the intelligence with more mirth than was consistent with
+      good breeding. His pupils, too, who were hitherto afraid to laugh aloud,
+      on observing his countenance dilate into an expression of laughter which
+      he could not conceal, made the roof of the house ring with their mirth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence, gintlemen,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;<i>legite, perlegite, et relegite</i>&mdash;study,
+      gintlemen, study&mdash;pluck the tree of knowledge, I say, while the fruit
+      is in season. Denny O'Shaughnessy, what are you facetious for? <i>Quid
+      rides, Dionysi</i> And so, Pether&mdash;is Pettier your pronomen&mdash;quo
+      nomine gowdes? Silence, boys!&mdash;perhaps he was at Latin before, and
+      we'll try him&mdash;<i>quo nomine gowdes, Pethre?</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A stare of awkward perplexity was the only reply he could get from the
+      colossus he addressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so you're fished up from the Streights (* Alluding to the Colossus of
+      Rhodes) at last, Pether?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, my name's not Pether. My father's name is Paddy Doorish, but my own
+      is Franky. I was born in Lisnagh; but we lived double as long as I can
+      mind in the Mountain Bar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And, Franky, what put Latin into your head?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was no Latin put into my head; I'm comin' to you for that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And, you graceful sprig of juvenility, have you the conscience to think
+      that I'd undhertake to fill what you carry on your showlders on the same
+      terms that I'd take for replenishing the head of a rasonable youth? Would
+      you be so unjust in all the principles of correct erudition as to expect
+      that, my worthy Man-mountain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't expect it,&rdquo; said Frank; &ldquo;all that's in your head wouldn't fill
+      the corner of mine, if you go accordin' to size; but I'll pay you for
+      tachin' me as much as you know yourself, an' the more I larn the less
+      pains you'll have wid me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Franky, however, made an amazing progress&mdash;so very rapid, indeed,
+      that in about three years from that day he found himself in Maynooth, and
+      in three years more was an active curate, to whom that very teacher
+      appeared as slavishly submissive as if he had never ridiculed his
+      vulgarity or ungainly dimensions. Poor Frank, however, in consequence of
+      the rapid progress he made, and of the very short interval which elapsed
+      from the period of his commencing Latin until that of his ordination, was
+      assigned by the people the lowest grade in learning. The term used to
+      designate the rank which they supposed him to hold, was both humorous and
+      expressive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Franky,&rdquo; they would say, &ldquo;is no finished priest in the larnin'; he's but
+      a <i>scowdher</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Now a <i>scowdher</i> is an oaten cake laid upon a pair of tongs placed
+      over the greeshaugh, or embers, that are spread out for the purpose of
+      baking it. In a few minutes the side first laid down is scorched: it is
+      then turned, and the other side is also scorched; so that it has the
+      appearance of being baked, though it is actually quite raw within. It is a
+      homely, but an exceedingly apt illustration, when applied to such men as
+      Frank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor Frank,&rdquo; they would observe, &ldquo;is but a <i>scowdher</i>&mdash;the sign
+      of the tongs&mdash;No. 11, is upon him; so that it is asy known he never
+      was laid to the <i>muddha arran</i>,&rdquo; *&mdash;that is to say, properly
+      baked&mdash;or duly and thoroughly educated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      * The <i>Muddha Arran</i> is literally &ldquo;the bread stick,&rdquo; a term in
+      opposition to the <i>scowdher</i>. It is a forked stick with three legs,
+      that stands opposite the fire, and supports the cake, which is placed on
+      the edge until it is gradually baked. The Scowdher is, for the most part,
+      made in cases of hurry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis, however, to resume more directly the thread of our narrative, on
+      finding himself mounted, took an inveterate prejudice against walking.
+      There was something, he thought, far more dignified in riding than in
+      pacing slowly upon the earth, like a common man who had not the
+      justification of Latin and Greek for becoming an equestrian. Besides this
+      accomplishment, there were also many other habits to be broken off, and
+      more genteel ones to be adopted in their place. These were all suggested
+      by his rising pride; and, in sooth, they smacked strongly of that
+      adroitness with which the Irish priest, and every priest, contrives to
+      accomplish the purpose of feeding well through the ostensible medium of a
+      different motive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He accordingly took his father aside one morning, after he had eaten a
+      more meagre breakfast that usual, and, after licking his lips, addressed
+      him in these words:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think, father, that upon considerating the consequence to which I am
+      now entitled, and the degree of respectability which, in my own person&mdash;<i>in
+      propria persona</i>&mdash;I communicate to the vulgarians with whom I am
+      connected&mdash;I call them vulgarians from no derogatory motive; but you
+      will concede yourself, that they are ignorant of the larned languages, an'
+      consequently, though dacent enough, still, in reference to Latin and
+      Greek, but vulgarians. Well! <i>Quid multis?</i>&mdash;I say, that taking
+      all these things into speculation, looking at them&mdash;<i>veluti in
+      speculum</i>&mdash;it is neither dacent nor becoming that I should ate in
+      the manner I have done, as vulgarly as themselves&mdash;that I should ate,
+      I say, any longer, without knife and fork. Neither, I announce, shall I in
+      future drink my milk any longer, as I have with all humility done
+      hitherto, out of a noggin; nor continue to disrobe, my potatoes any longer
+      without a becoming instrument. I must also have better viands to consume.
+      You are not to be ininformed that I am in that situation of life, in
+      which, from my education and other accomplishments, I must be estimated as
+      duly qualified to ate beef and mutton instead of bacon, an' to have my <i>tay</i>
+      breakfast instead of stirabout, which, in polite society, is designated
+      porridge. You know yourself, and must acknowledge, that I'm soon likely to
+      confer distinction and preeminence upon the poor illiterate, but honest
+      creatures, with whom I am associated in the bonds of blood-relationship.
+      If I were a dunce, or a booby, or a leather head, the case might be
+      different; but you yourself are well acquainted with my talents of logic
+      and conthroversy; an' I have sound rasons and good authority, which I
+      could quote, if necessary, for proving that nothing increases the weight
+      of the brain, and accelerates to gravity and solidity more than good
+      feeding. Pay attention, therefore, to my words, for I expect that they
+      will be duly observed:&mdash;buy me a knife and fork; and when I get them,
+      it's not to lay them past to rust, you consave. The beef and mutton must
+      follow; and in future I'm resolved to have my <i>tay</i> breakfast. There
+      are geese, and turkeys, and pullets enough about the yard, and I am bent
+      on accomplishing myself in the art of carving them. I'm not the man now to
+      be placed among the other riff-raff' of the family over a basket of
+      potatoes, wid a black clerical coat upon me, and a noggin of milk under my
+      arm! I tell you the system must be changed: the schoolmaster is abroad,
+      and I'll tolerate such vulgarity no longer. Now saddle the horse till I
+      ride across the bog to Pether Rafferty's Station, where I'm to sarve mass;
+      plase heaven, I'll soon be able to say one myself, and give you all a lift
+      in spirituals&mdash;ehem!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Throth, Dinny, I b'lieve you're right, avick; and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vick me no longer, father&mdash;that's another thing I forgot. It's full
+      time that I should be sirred; and if my own relations won't call me Sir
+      instead of Dinny, it's hardly to be expected that strangers will do it. I
+      wish to goodness you had never stigmatized me wid so vulgar an epithet as
+      Dinny. The proper word is Dionysius; and, in future, I'll expect to be
+      called Misther Dionysius.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure, I or your mother needn't be sirrin' you, Dinny?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I haven't made up my mind as to whether I'll demand that proof of my
+      respectability from you and my mother, or not; but on this I'm immovable,
+      that instead of Dinny, you must, as I said, designate me Dionysius.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, avourneen, I suppose only it's right you wouldn't be axin'
+      us; but I'm sure your poor mother will never be able to get her tongue
+      about Dionnisis, it's so long and larned a word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a larned word, no doubt; but she must persevere until she's able to
+      masther it. I wouldn't for three tenpennies that the priest would hear one
+      of you call me Dinny; it would degradate me very much in his estimation.
+      At all events, if my mother cannot manage the orthography of Dionysius,
+      let it be Denis, or anything but that signature of vulgarity, Dinny. Now,
+      father, you won't neglect to revale what I've ordered to the family?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, indeed, I will not, avick&mdash;I mane&mdash;Dionnisis, avourneen&mdash;I'll
+      tell them everything as you ordhered; but as to Dionnisis, I'm cock sure
+      that poor Mave will never be able to get her ould tongue about so
+      newfangled a piece of larnin' as that is. Well, well, this knowledge bates
+      the world!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When the horse was saddled, and Dionysius on his way with all due pomp to
+      the Station, old Denis broke the matter to his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mave, achora,&rdquo; said,he, &ldquo;I have sthrange news to tell you: sure Dionnisis
+      is goin' to make himself a gintleman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dionnisis, our son Dionnisis, is goin' to make himself a gintleman; he'll
+      ate no longer widout a knife and fork.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Saints about us!&rdquo; exclaimed Mave, rising and looking with alarm into her
+      husband's face&mdash;&ldquo;saints about us, Denis, what is it ails you? Sure
+      there would be nothin' wrong wid you about the head, Denis? or maybe it's
+      a touch of a faver you've got, out riddling that corn bare-headed,
+      yistherday? I remimber the time my Aunt Bridget tuck the scarlet faver,
+      she begun to rave and spake foolish in the same way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, woman, if your Aunt Bridget had a faver made up of all the colors in
+      the rainbow, I tell you I'm spakin' sinse! Our son Dionnisis proved
+      himself a gintleman out in the garden wid me about an hour ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose so, Denis,&rdquo; she replied, humoring' him, for she was still
+      doubly convinced that he labored under some incipient malady, if not under
+      actual insanity; &ldquo;an' what son is this, Dinny? I've never heard of him
+      before.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our son Denis, woman alive! You must know he's not to be called Dinny or
+      Dinis any more, but Dionnisis; he's to begin atin' wid a knife an' fork
+      to-morrow; we must get him beef and mutton, and a <i>tay</i> breakfast. He
+      say's it's not fair play in any one that's so deep read in the larnin' as
+      he is, to ate like a vulgarian, or to peel his phaties wid his fingers,
+      an' him knows so much Latin an' Greek; an' my sowl to happiness but he'll
+      stick to the gintlemanly way of livin', so far as the beef, an' mutton,
+      and tay is consamed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will! An', Dinis O'Shaughnessy, who has a betther right to turn
+      gintleman, nor the gorsoon that studied for that! Isn't it proud you ought
+      to be that he has the spirit to think of sich things?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll engage, Mave, on that point you'll find him spirited enough; for my
+      part, I don't begrudge him what he wants; but I heard the people say, that
+      no man's a gintleman who's not College-bred; and you know he's not that
+      yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You forget that he has gentle blood in his veins, Denis. There was a day
+      when my family, the Magennises, held their heads up; and Kolumkill says
+      that the same time is to come back agin to all the ould families. Who
+      knows if it's altogether from himself he's takin' to the beef an' mutton,
+      but from prophecy; he knows what he's about, I'll warrant him. For our
+      part, it's not right for us to cross him in it; it's for the good of the
+      church, no doubt, an' we might lose more by a blast upon the corn or the
+      cattle, than he'd ate the other way. That's my dhrame out that I had last
+      night about him. I thought we were all gother somewhere that I can't
+      rightly remimber; but anyhow there was a great sight of people in it, an'
+      high doin's goin' an in the atin' way. I looked about me, an' seen ever so
+      many priests dressed all like the Protestant clargy; our Dinis was at the
+      head of them, wid a three-cocked hat, an' a wig upon him; he was cuttin'
+      up beef an' mutton at the rate of a weddin', an' dhrinkin' wine in
+      metherfuls.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Musha, Dinis,' says myself, 'what's all this for?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Why,' says he, 'it's all for the good of the church an' the faithful.
+      I'm now Archbishop of the county,' says he; 'the Protestants are all
+      banished, an' we are in their place.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The sorra one o' myself all this time but thought he was a priest still;
+      so says I, 'Dinny, you're a wantin' to anoint Paddy Diarmud, who's given
+      over, an' if you don't I make haste, you won't overtake him?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'He must wait then till mornin',' says Dinny; 'or if he chooses to die
+      against my will, an' the will o' the church, let him take the
+      quensequences. Were wealthy now.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was so much frightened at the kind of voice that he spoke to me in,
+      that I awoke; an' sure enough, the first thing I heard was the fizzin' o'
+      bacon on the pan. I wondered! who could be up so early, an' puttin' my
+      head through the door, there was Dinny busy at it, wid an ould knife in
+      one hand, an' an iron skiver in the other imitatin' a fork.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'What are you doin' so early, Dinny?' says I.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'I'm practisin',' says he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'What for?' says I.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Oh, I'm practisin',' says he, back again, 'go to bed; I'm practisin' for
+      the church, an' the Station that's to be in Pether Rafferty's to-day.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Dinny, between you an' me, that dhrame didn't come for nothin'. So
+      give the gorsoon his way, an' if he chooses to be a gintleman, why let
+      him; he'll be the more honor to thim that reared him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thrue for you, indeed,&mdash;Mave; he always had a high spirit ever since
+      he was intinded for the robes, and would have his own way and will in
+      whatever he took into his head, right or wrong, as cleverly as if he had
+      the authority for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' so he ought, seein' he wasn't to be slavin' at the spade, like the
+      rest o' the family. The ways o' them that have great larnin' as he has,
+      isn't like other people's ways&mdash;they must be humored, and have their
+      own will, otherwise what 'ud they be betther than their neighbors?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The other arrangements laid down by Denis, touching his determination not
+      to be addressed so familiarly by his brothers and sisters, were next
+      discussed in this conversation, and, of course, the same prejudice in his
+      favor was manifested by his indulgent parents. The whole code of his
+      injunctions was subsequently disclosed to the family in all its extent and
+      rigor. Some of them heard it with surprise, and other with that kind of
+      dogged indignation evinced by those who are in some degree prepared for
+      the nature of the communication about to be laid before them. Altogether,
+      the circumstances in which it placed them were peculiar and embarrassing.
+      The Irish peasant can seldom bear to have the tenderness of domestic
+      affection tampered with, whether from pride, caprice, or any other motive
+      not related to his prejudices. In this instance the strongest feelings of
+      the O'Shaughnessys were brunted, as it were, in hostile array against each
+      other; and although the moral force on each side was nearly equal, still
+      the painful revulsion produced by Denis's pride, as undervaluing their
+      affection, and substituting the cold forms of artificial life for the
+      warmth of honest hearts like theirs, was, in the first burst of natural
+      fervor, strongly, and somewhat indignantly expressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis had been their pride, the privileged person among them&mdash;the
+      individual whose talents were to throw lustre upon a nameless and unknown
+      family; the future priest&mdash;the embryo preacher of eminence&mdash;the
+      resistless controversialist&mdash;the holy father confessor&mdash;and,
+      perhaps, for with that vivacity of imagination peculiar to the Irish, they
+      could scarcely limit his exaltation&mdash;perhaps the bishop of a whole
+      diocese. Had not the Lord Primate himself been the son of as humble a man?
+      &ldquo;And who knows,&rdquo; said his youngest and fairest sister, who of all the
+      family was most devoted to him, &ldquo;but Dinny might yet be a primate?&rdquo; And as
+      she spoke, the tear of affection, pride, and enthusiasm glistened in her
+      eye. Denis, therefore, had been much, even in his youth, to their simple
+      hearts, and far more to their hopes and expectations, than he was in all
+      the pride of his petty polemics; but when he, before whose merits, both
+      real and imaginary, every heart among them bowed as before the shrine of a
+      tutelar saint, turned round, ere the destined eminence he aimed at was
+      half attained, and laid upon their fervent affection the icy chain of
+      pride and worldly etiquette&mdash;the act was felt keenly and unexpectedly
+      as the acute spasm of some sudden malady. The father and mother, however,
+      both, defended him with great warmth; and by placing his motives in that
+      point of view which agreed best with their children's prejudices, they
+      eventually succeeded in reconciling his brothers and sisters in some
+      degree to the necessity of adopting the phraseology he proposed&mdash;that
+      they might treat him with suitable respect in the eye of the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's proud of him we ought to be,&rdquo; said his father, &ldquo;and delighted that
+      he has sich a risin' spirit; an' sure the more respect is paid to him the
+      greater credit he will be to ourselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, sure he has no right,&rdquo; said his eldest brother, &ldquo;to be settin' up
+      for a gentleman till he's priested. I'm willin' enough to sir him, only
+      that it cuts me more than I'll say, to think that I must be callin' the
+      boy that I'd spill the dhrop of my blood for, afther I the manner of a
+      sthranger; and besides,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;I'm not clear but the neighbors will
+      be passin' remarks upon us, as they did when you and he used to be
+      arguin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd like to see them that 'ud turn it into a joke,&rdquo; said his father; &ldquo;I
+      would let them know that Dinis O'Shaughnessy's dog is neither to be made
+      or meddled wid in a disrespectful manner, let alone his son. We are not
+      widout friends and connections that 'ud take our quarrel upon them in his
+      defince, if there was a needcessity for it; but there will not, for didn't
+      my heart lep the other day to my throat wid delight, when I saw Larry Neil
+      put his hand to his hat to him, comin' up the Esker upon the mare; and may
+      I never do an ill turn, if he didn't answer the bow to Larry, as if he was
+      the priest of the parish already. It's the wondher of the world how he
+      picks up a jinteel thing any how, an' ever did, since he was the hoith o'
+      that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said the mother, &ldquo;what a norration yez rise about thratin' the boy
+      as every one like him ought to be thrated. Wait till ye see him a parish
+      priest, and then yell be comin' round him to get your daughters to keep
+      house for him, and your sons edicated and made priests of; but now that
+      the child takes a ginteel relish for beef and mutton, and wants to be
+      respected, ye are mane an' low spirited enough to grumble about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No mother,&rdquo; said his youngest sister, bursting into tears, &ldquo;I'd beg it
+      for him, sooner nor he should want; but I can't bear to be callin' my
+      brother Dinny&mdash;sir&mdash;like a stranger. It looks as if I didn't
+      love him, or as if he was forgettin' us, or carin' less about us nor he
+      used to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This, in fact, was the root and ground of the opposition which Denis's
+      plan received at the hands of his relations; it repressed the cordial and
+      affectionate intercourse which had hitherto subsisted between them; but
+      the pride of life, and, what is more, the pride of an office which ought
+      always to be associated with humility, had got into his heart; the vanity
+      of learning, too, thin and shallow though it was, inflated him; and the
+      effect of both was a gradual induration of feeling&mdash;an habitual sense
+      of his own importance, and a notion of supreme contempt for all who were
+      more ignorant than himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After the first impression of pain and mortification had passed away from
+      the minds of his brothers and sisters, it was, however, unanimously
+      admitted that he was right; and ere long, no other feeling than one of
+      good-humor, mingled with drollery, could be perceived among them. They
+      were clearly convinced, that he claimed no more from strangers than was
+      due to him; but they certainly were not prepared to hear that he had
+      brought the exactions of personal respect so completely and unexpectedly
+      home to themselves as he had done. The thing, too, along with being
+      unreasonable, was awkward and embarrassing in the extreme; for there is a
+      kind of feeling among brothers and sisters, which, though it cannot be
+      described, is very trying to their delicacy and shamefacedness under
+      circumstances of a similar nature. In humble life you will see a married
+      woman who cannot call her husband after his Christian name; or a husband,
+      who, from some extraordinary restraint, cannot address his wife, except in
+      that distant manner which the principle I allude to dictates, and habit
+      confirms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis, however, had overcome this modesty, and felt not a whit too
+      shamefaced to arrogate to his own learning and character the most
+      unhesitating manifestation of their deference and respect, and they soon
+      scrupled not to pay it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The night of that evening was pretty far advanced, when a neighbor's son,
+      named Condy Callaghan, came to inform the family, that Denis, when
+      crossing the bog on his way home, had rode into a swamp, from which he
+      found much difficulty in extricating himself, but added, &ldquo;the mare is sunk
+      to the saddle-skirts, and cannot get out widout men and ropes,&rdquo; In a short
+      time a sufficient number of the neighbors were summoned together, and
+      proceeded to the animal's relief. Denny's importance, as well as his black
+      dress, was miserably tarnished; he stood, however, with as dignified an
+      air as possible, and, in a bombastic style, proceeded to direct the men as
+      to the best manner of relieving her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Asy, Dinny,&rdquo; said his brother, with a good-humored but significant smile&mdash;&ldquo;larning
+      may be very good in its place; in the mane time, lave the business in our
+      hands rather than in your own head&mdash;or if you have e'er a scrap of
+      Greek or Latin that 'ud charm ould Sobersides out, where was the use of
+      sendin' for help?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say,&rdquo; replied Dennis, highly offended, &ldquo;I'll not tolerate vulgarity any
+      longer; you must larn to address me in a more polite style. If the animal&mdash;that
+      purblind quadruped&mdash;walked into the mire, by what logic can you
+      produce an association between her blindness and my knowledge of Latin and
+      Greek? But why do I degradate my own consequence by declaiming to you an
+      eulogium upon logic? It's only throwing pearls before swine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't mane to offind you,&rdquo; replied the warm-hearted brother; &ldquo;I meant
+      you no offince in what I said, so don't take it ill&mdash;we'll have
+      Sobersides out in no time&mdash;and barrin' an extra rubbin' down to both
+      of you, neither will be the worse, I hope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to what you hope or despair, Brian, it could produce no other
+      impression on the subtility of my fancy than pity for the man who could
+      compare me&mdash;considering the brilliancy of my career, and the extent
+      of my future speculations&mdash;to a quadruped like Sobersides, by
+      asserting that I, as well as she, ought to be rubbed down! And were it not
+      that I confront the offince with your own ignorance, I would expose you
+      before the townland in which we stand; ay, to the whole parish&mdash;but I
+      spare you, out of respect to my own consequence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ax your pardon,&rdquo; said the brother, &ldquo;I won't offind you in the same way
+      again. What I said, I said to you as I thought a brother might&mdash;I ax
+      your pardon!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a slight agitation approaching to a tremor in his brother's
+      voice, that betokened sorrow for his own impropriety in too familiarly
+      addressing Denis, and perhaps regret that so slight and inoffensive a jest
+      should have been so harshly received in the presence of strangers, by a
+      brother who in reality had been his idol. He reflected upon the
+      conversation held on that morning in the family, touching Denny's
+      prerogative in claiming a new and more deferential deportment from them
+      all; and he could not help feeling that there was in it a violation of
+      some natural principle long sacred to his heart. But the all-prevading and
+      indefinite awe felt for that sacerdotal character into which his brother
+      was about to enter, subdued all, and reconciled him to those inroads upon
+      violated Nature, despite her own voice, loudly expressed as it was in his
+      bosom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the family was once more assembled that night, Denis addressed them
+      in a tone, which implied that the <i>odium theologicum</i> had not
+      prevented the contrition expressed by his brother from altogether effacing
+      from his mind the traces of his offence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unworthy of respect,&rdquo; he proceeded, &ldquo;as it appears by some of my
+      relations I am held,&rdquo; and he glanced at his brother, &ldquo;yet I beg permission
+      to state, that our worthy parochial priest, or I should rather say, the
+      Catholic Rector of this parish, is of a somewhat different habit of
+      thought or contemplation. I dined with him to-day&mdash;ehem&mdash;dined
+      with him upon an excellent joint of mutton&mdash;I say, father&mdash;the
+      mutton was good&mdash;and with his proud, pertinacious curate, whom I do
+      not at all relish; whether, as Homer says&mdash;I enumerate his scurrilous
+      satire, or his derogatory insinuations. His parochial pastor and spiritual
+      superior is a gentleman, or, as Horace says, <i>homo factus ad unguem</i>&mdash;which
+      is paraphrastically&mdash;every inch a gentleman&mdash;or more literally,
+      a gentleman to the tops of his fingers&mdash;ehem&mdash;hem&mdash;down to
+      the very nails&mdash;as it were.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;having discussed that&mdash;<i>observatis observandis, quoad
+      sacerdolem</i>&mdash;having passed my eulogium upon Father Finnerty&mdash;upon
+      my word and credit though, punch is <i>prima facie</i> drink&mdash;and
+      father, that brings me to remember an omission which I committed in my
+      dialogue with you this morning. I forgot to say, that after my dinner, in
+      the manner I expounded to you, it will be necessary to have a tumbler of
+      punch&mdash;for, as Father Finnerty says, there is nothing which so
+      effectually promotes the organs of digestion. Now, my introduction of
+      this, in the middle of my narrative, is what the hypercritics call a
+      Parenthesis, which certainly betrays no superficial portion of literary
+      perusal on my part, if you could at all but understand it as well as
+      Father Finnerty, our Worthy parochial incumbent, does. As for the curate,
+      should I ever come to authority in the Irish hierarchy, I shall be
+      strongly disposed to discountenance him; if it were only for his general
+      superciliousness of conduct. So there's another clause disposed of.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;to proceed&mdash;I say I have intelligence regarding myself,
+      that will be by no means unsavory to you all. Father Finnerty and I had,
+      about an hour before dinner this day, a long and tedious conversation, the
+      substance of which was my future celebrity in the church. He has a claim
+      on the Bishop, which he stated to me will be exercised in my favor,
+      although there are several candidates for it in this parish, not one of
+      whom, however, is within forty-five degree's of being so well qualified
+      for college as myself. Father, is there not a jar&mdash;an <i>amphora</i>&mdash;as
+      that celebrated satirist Juvenile has it&mdash;an <i>amphora</i>&mdash;in
+      the chimly-brace, filled with liquor&mdash;get it, and let us <i>inter
+      animosity</i>&mdash;I'll not be long a member of the domestic circle with
+      you&mdash;so, upon the basis of the communication I have to make, let us,
+      as I said, be&mdash;become sextons to animosity and care. 'Dionysius,'
+      said Father Finnerty, addressing me, which shows, at all events, that I am
+      not so unimportant as some of my friends would suppose&mdash;'Dionysius,'
+      said he '<i>inter nos</i>&mdash;between you and me, I believe I have it in
+      my power to send up a candidate to Maynooth. 'Tis true, I never make a
+      promise&mdash;<i>nunquam facio votum</i>, except in certain cases, or, in
+      other words, Dionysius, <i>exceptis excipiendis</i>&mdash;in which is the
+      essence, as it were, of a proper vow.' In the meantime he proceeded&mdash;'With
+      regard to your prospects in the church, I can only say, in the first
+      place, and I say it with much truth and sincerity&mdash;that I'm badly off
+      for a horse; that, however, is, as I said, <i>inter nos&mdash;sub sigillo</i>.
+      The old garran I have is fairly worn out&mdash;and, not that I say it,
+      your father has as pretty a colt as there is within the bounds&mdash;<i>intra
+      terminos parochii mei</i>, within the two ends of my parish: <i>verbum sat</i>&mdash;which
+      is, I'm sure you're a sensible and discreet young man. Your father,
+      Dionysius, is a parishioner whom I regard and esteem to the highest degree
+      of comparison, and you will be pleased to report my eulogium to himself
+      and to his dacent family&mdash;and proud may they be of having so
+      brilliant a youth among them as you are&mdash;ehem!'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, you may all think that this was plain conversation; but I had read
+      too much for that. In fact, it was logic&mdash;complate, convincing logic,
+      every word of it. So I responded to him in what is called in the books,
+      the <i>argumentum ad crumenam</i>; although I question but it ought to be
+      designated here the <i>argumentum ad bestiam</i>. Said I, 'Father
+      Finnerty, the colt, my paternal property, which you are pleased to
+      eulogize so highly, is a good one; it was designed for myself when I
+      should come out on the mission; however, I will undertake to say, if you
+      get me into Maynooth, that my father, on my authority, will lend you the
+      colt tomorrow, and the day of his claiming it will be dependent upon the
+      fulfilment of your promise or <i>votum</i>.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'<i>Signatum et sigttlatum est</i>,' said he&mdash;for, indeed, the best
+      part of the discussion was conducted in Latin; 'and now,' he continued,
+      'my excellent Dionysius, nothing remains but that the colt be presented&mdash;'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &mdash;&ldquo;'Lent,' I responded, correcting him, 'you see, even although he
+      was the priest&mdash;'lent,' said I; 'and your Reverence will be good
+      enough to give the <i>votum</i> before one or two of my friends.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He looked at me sharply, not expecting to find such deep logic in one he
+      conjectured to be but a tyro.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'You will be a useful man in the church,' he added, 'and you deserve to
+      be pushed on at all events. In the meantime, tell your father that I'll
+      ride up and breakfast with him to-morrow, and he can have a friend or two
+      to talk over the <i>compactum</i>.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So, father, there's the state of the question at present; the
+      accomplishment of the condition is dependent upon yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      My readers may perceive that Denis, although a pedant, was not a fool. It
+      has been said that no man is a hero to his <i>valet-de-chambre</i>; but I
+      think the truth of the sentiment contained in that saying is questionable.
+      Denis, on the contrary, was nowhere so great a man as in his own
+      chimney-corner, surrounded by his family. It was there he was learned,
+      accomplished, profound; next to that, he was great among those who,
+      although not prejudiced in his favor by the bonds of affection, were too
+      ignorant to discover those literary pranks which he played off, because he
+      knew he could do so without detection. The basis, however, of his
+      character was shrewd humor and good sense; and even at the stage of life
+      which we have just described, it might have been evident to a close
+      observer that, when a proper knowledge of his own powers, joined to a
+      further acquaintance with the world, should enable him to cast off the
+      boyish assumption of pedantry, a man of a keen, ready intellect and
+      considerable penetration would remain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Many of my readers may be inclined to exclaim that the character of Denny
+      is not to be found in real life; but they are mistaken who think so. They
+      are not to suppose that Denis O'Shaughnessy was the same person in his
+      intercourse with intelligent men and scholars, that he appeared among the
+      illiterate peasantry, or his own relations. Far from it. With the former,
+      persons like him are awkward and bashful, or modest and unassuming,
+      according to the bent of their natural disposition. With scholars Denis
+      made few pretensions to superior knowledge; but, on the contrary, took
+      refuge, if he dreaded a scrutiny into his acquirements, in the humblest
+      acknowledgment of his limited reading, and total unacquaintance with those
+      very topics on which he was, under other circumstances, in the habit of
+      expatiating so fluently. In fact, were I to detail some of the scenes of
+      his exhibitions as they were actually displayed, then I have no doubt I
+      might be charged with coloring too highly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Denis had finished the oration from the chimney-corner, delivered
+      with suitable gesticulations while he stood drying himself at the fire
+      after the catastrophe of the swamp, a silence of some minutes followed.
+      The promise of the colt made to the priest with such an air of authority,
+      was a finale which the father did not expect, and by which he was not a
+      little staggered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I could like it all very well,&rdquo; replied the father, &ldquo;save an' except
+      givin' away the coult that's worth five-an'-twenty guineas, if he's worth
+      a <i>'crona-bawn</i>. To tell the blessed thruth, Dinis, if you had
+      settled the business widout <i>that</i>, I'd be betther plased.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just exercise your contemplation upon it for a short period,&rdquo; replied
+      Denis, &ldquo;and you will perceive that I stipulated to lend him before
+      witnesses; and if Father Finnerty does not matriculate me into Maynooth,
+      then do you walk down some brilliant morning or other, and take your baste
+      by the head, direct yourself home, hold the bridle as you proceed, and by
+      the time you're at the rack, you'll find the horse at the manger. I have
+      now stated the legality of the matter, and you may act as your own
+      subtility of perception shall dictate. I have laid down the law, do you
+      consider the equity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said the father, &ldquo;if I thought he would get you into&rdquo;&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Correct, quite correct: the cardinal point there is the if. If he does,
+      give him the horse; but if not, reclaim the quadruped without hesitation.
+      I am not to be kept back, if profundity and erudition can substantiate a
+      prospect. Still, father, the easiest way is the safest, and the shortest
+      the most expeditious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The embarrassing situation in which the other members of the family were
+      placed, imposed upon them a profound silence, in reference to the subject
+      of conversation. Yet, while Denny delivered the aforesaid harangue from
+      the chimney-corner, every eye was fixed upon him with an expression of
+      pride and admiration which escaped not his own notice. Their deportment
+      towards him was affectionate and respectful; but none of them could so far
+      or so easily violate old habits as to address him according to his own
+      wishes; they therefore avoided addressing him at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning Father Finnerty paid them his purposed visit, and, as he
+      had promised, arrived in time for breakfast. A few of Denis's relations
+      were assembled, and in their presence the arrangements respecting the colt
+      and Denny's clerical prospects were privately concluded. So far everything
+      was tight; the time of Denny's departure for Maynooth was to be determined
+      by the answer which Father Finnerty should receive from the bishop; for an
+      examination must, of course, take place, which was to be conducted by the
+      prelate, or by some other clergyman appointed for that purpose. This and
+      the necessary preparation usual on such occasions, were the only
+      impediments in the way of his departure for Maynooth, a place associated
+      with so many dreams of that lowly ambition which the humble circumstances
+      of the peasantry permit them to entertain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Irish people, I need scarcely observe, are a poor people; they are,
+      also, very probably, for the same reason, an imaginative people; at all
+      events, they are excited by occurrences which would not produce the same
+      vivacity of emotion which they experience upon any other people in the
+      world. This, after all, is but natural; a long endurance of hunger will
+      render the coarsest food delicious; and, on the contrary, when the
+      appetite is glutted with the richest viands, it requires a dish whose
+      flavor is proportionably high and spicy to touch the jaded palate. It is
+      so with our moral enjoyments. In Ireland, a very simple accession to their
+      hopes or comforts produces an extraordinary elevation of mind, and so
+      completely unlocks the sluices of their feelings, that every consideration
+      is lost in the elation of the moment. At least it was so in Denis
+      O'Shaughnessy's family upon this occasion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No sooner had Father Finnerty received the colt, and pledged himself that
+      Denny should have the place at Maynooth that was then vacant, than a
+      tumultuous expression of delight burst from his family and relations,
+      business was then thrown aside for the day; the house was scoured and set
+      in order, as if it were for a festival; their best apparel was put on;
+      every eye was bright, every heart throbbed with a delightful impulse,
+      whilst kindness and hilarity beamed from their faces. In a short time they
+      all separated themselves among their neighbors to communicate the
+      agreeable tidings; and the latter, with an honest participation in their
+      happiness, instantly laid aside their avocations, and flocked to Denis
+      O'Shaughnessy's, that they might congratulate him and his friends upon
+      what was considered the completion of their hopes. When the day was more
+      advanced, several of Denny's brothers and sisters returned, and the house
+      was nearly filled with their acquaintances and relations. Ere one o'clock
+      had passed they wore all assembled, except old Denis, of whom, no person
+      could give any intelligence. Talk, loud laughter, pure poteen, and
+      good-humor, all circulated freely? the friendly neighbor unshaved, and
+      with his Sunday coat thrown hastily over his work-day apparel, drank to
+      Denny's health, and wished that he might &ldquo;bate all Maynewth out of the
+      face; an' sure there's no doubt of that, any how&mdash;doesn't myself
+      remimber him puttin' the explanations to Pasthorini before he was the bulk
+      o' my fist?&rdquo; His brothers and sisters now adopted with enthusiasm the
+      terms of respect which he had prescribed for them through his father; he
+      was Sirred and Misthered, and all but Reverenced, with a glow of
+      affectionate triumph which they strove not to conceal. He was also
+      overwhelmed with compliments of all hues and complexions: one reminded him
+      of the victory he obtained over a hedge-schoolmaster who came one Sunday a
+      distance of fifteen miles to sack him in English Grammar on the
+      chapel-green; but as the man was no classical scholar, &ldquo;Sure,&rdquo; observed
+      his neighbor, &ldquo;I remember well that he couldn't get a word out of Misther
+      Denis's head there but Latin; so that the poor crathur, afther travellin'
+      fifteen long miles, had to go home agin, the show o' the world, widout
+      undherstandin' a sintence of the larnin' that was put an him; an' so
+      here's wishin' you health, Misther Dinis, agra, an' no fear in life but
+      you'll be the jewel at the prachin,' sir, plase Goodness!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Another reminded him of &ldquo;how often he proved Phaidrick Murray to be an
+      ass, and showed him how he couldn't make out the differ atween black an'
+      white.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure, an' he did,&rdquo; said Phadrick, scratching his head, for he was one of
+      the first at the house; &ldquo;an' no wondher, wid his long-headed screwtations
+      from the books. Throth, his own father was the best match, barrin' Father
+      Lawdher that was broke of his bread, he ever met wid, till he got too many
+      for him by the Latin an' Greek.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This allusion to old Denis occasioned his absence to be noticed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can nobody tell where Denis More is?&rdquo; said the wife; &ldquo;my gracious, but
+      it's quare he should be from about the place this day, any way. Brian,
+      mavourneen, did you see him goin' any where?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Brian, &ldquo;but I see him comin' down there carryin' some aitables
+      in a basket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brian had scarcely ended when his father entered, bearing beef and mutton,
+      as aforesaid, both of which he deposited upon the kitchen table, with a
+      jerk of generosity and pride, that seemed to say, as he looked
+      significantly at Denny&mdash;and, in fact, as he did say afterwards&mdash;&ldquo;Never
+      spare, Dinny; ate like a gintleman; make yourself as bright an' ginteel as
+      you can; you won't want for beef an' mutton!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Denis now sat down, and, after wiping the perspiration from his
+      forehead, took the glass of poteen which the wife handed him: he held it
+      between his finger and thumb for a moment, glanced around him upon the
+      happy faces present, then laid it down again, fixed his eyes upon his son,
+      and cast them once more upon the company. The affectionate father's heart
+      was full; his breast heaved, and the large tears rolled slowly down his
+      cheeks. By a strong effort, however, he mastered his emotion; and taking
+      the glass again, he said in broken voice:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neighbors!&mdash;God bless yez!&mdash;God bless yez!&mdash;Dinny&mdash;Dinny&mdash;I&rdquo;&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The last words he pronounced with difficulty; and drinking off his glass,
+      set it down empty upon the table. He then rose up, and shook his neighbors
+      by the hand&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;a happy man, no doubt of it, an' we're all happy; an'
+      it's proud any father might be to hear the account of his son, that I did
+      of mine, as I was convoyin' Father Finnerty a piece o' the way home. 'Your
+      son,' says he, when he took that bit of a coult out o' my hand, 'will be
+      an honor to you all. I tell you,' says he, 'that he's nearly as good a
+      scholar, as myself, an' spakes Latin not far behind my own; an' as for a
+      pracher,' says he, 'I can tell you that he'll be hard farther nor any man
+      I know.' He tould me them words wid his own two lips. An' surely,
+      neighbors,&rdquo; said he, relapsing into strong feeling, &ldquo;you can't blame me
+      for bein' both proud and happy of sich a son.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      My readers, from the knowledge already given them of Denny's character,
+      are probably disposed to think that his learning was thrown out on this
+      occasion in longer words and more copious quotations than usual. This,
+      however, was not the case; so far from that, he never displayed less
+      pedantry, nor interspersed his conversation with fewer scraps of Latin. In
+      fact, the proceedings of the day appeared to affect him with a tone of
+      thought, decidedly at variance with the exuberance of joy experienced by
+      the family. He was silent, moody, and evidently drawn by some secret
+      reflection from the scene around him. He held a book in his hand, into
+      which he looked from time to time, with the air of a man who balances some
+      contingency in his mind. At length, when the conversation of those who
+      were assembled became more loud and boisterous, he watched an opportunity
+      of gliding out unperceived; having accomplished this, he looked cautiously
+      about him, and finding himself not observed, he turned his steps to a glen
+      which lay about half a mile below his father's house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the lowest skirt of this little valley, protected, by a few spreading
+      hawthorns, stood a small white farm-house, more immediately shaded by a
+      close row of elder or boor-tree, which hung over one of the gables, and
+      covered the garden gate, together with a neat grassy seat, that was built
+      between the gate, and the gable. It was impervious to sun and rain: one of
+      those pretty spots which present themselves on the road-side in the
+      country, and strike the eye with a pleasing notion of comfort; especially
+      when, during a summer shower, the cocks and hens of the little yard are
+      seen by the traveller who takes shelter under it, huddled up in silence,
+      the white dust quite dry, whilst the heavy shower patters upon the leaves
+      above, and upon the dark drenched road beside him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Under the shade of this sat an interesting girl, aged about seventeen,
+      named Susan Connor. She was slender, and not above the middle size; but
+      certainly, in point of form and feature, such as might be called beautiful&mdash;handsome
+      she unquestionably was; but be that as it may, with this rustic beauty the
+      object of Denis's stolen visit was connected. She sat knitting under the
+      shade of elder which we have described, a sweet picture of innocence and
+      candor. Our hero's face, as he approached her, was certainly a fine study
+      for any one who wished to embody the sad and the ludicrous. Desperate was
+      the conflict between pedantry and feeling which he experienced. His manner
+      appeared more pompous and affected than ever; yet was there blended with
+      the flush of approaching triumph as a candidate, such woe-begone shades of
+      distress flitting occasionally across his feature, as rendered his
+      countenance inscrutably enigmatical.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the usual interchange of preliminary conversation had passed, Denis
+      took his seat beside her on the grassy bench; and after looking in several
+      directions, and giving half a dozen hems, he thus accosted her:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan, cream of my affections, I may venture to conjecture that the fact,
+      or <i>factum</i>, of my being the subject of <i>fama clamosa</i> today,
+      has not yet reached your ears?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Denis, you are at your deep larning from the books again. Can't you
+      keep your reading for them that undherstands it, an' not be spakin' so
+      Englified to a simple girl like me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is logic in that same, however. Do you know, Susan, I have often
+      thought that, provided always you had resaved proper instruction, you
+      would have made a first-rate classical scholar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you tould me, Denis, the Sunday we exchanged the promise. But sure
+      when you get me, I can larn it. Won't you tache me, Denis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned her laughing eyes archly at him as she spoke, with a look of
+      joy and affection: it was a look, indeed, that staggered for the moment
+      every ecclesiastical resolution within him. He returned her glance, and
+      ran over the features of her pure and beautiful countenance for some
+      minutes; then, placing his open hand upon his eyes, he seemed buried in
+      reflection. At length he addressed her:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan, I am thinking of that same Sunday evening on which we exchanged
+      the hand-promise. I say, Susan,&mdash;<i>dimidium animae meae</i>&mdash;I
+      am in the act of meditating upon it; and sorry am I to be compel&mdash;to
+      be under the neces&mdash;to be reduced, I say&mdash;that is redact as in
+      the larned langua&mdash;: in other words&mdash;or terms, indeed, is more
+      elegant&mdash;in other terms, then, Susan, I fear that what I just now
+      alluded to, touching the <i>fama clamosa</i> which is current about me
+      this day, will render that promise a rather premature one on both our
+      parts. Some bachelors in my situation might be disposed to call it
+      foolish, but I entertain a reverence&mdash;a veneration for the feelings
+      of the feminine sex, that inclines me to use the mildest and most
+      classical language in divulging the change that has taken place in my
+      fortunes since I saw you last.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mane, Denis?&rdquo; inquired Susan, suddenly ceasing to knit, and
+      fixing her eyes upon him with a glance of alarm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To be plain, Susy, I find that Maynooth is my destination. It has been
+      arranged between my father and Docthor Finnerty, that I must become a
+      laborer in the vineyard; that is, that I must become a priest, and
+      cultivate the grape. It's a sore revelation to make to an amorous maiden;
+      but destiny will be triumphant:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <i>Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The poor girl suddenly laid down the work on which she had been engaged,
+      her face became the color of ashes, and the reply she was about to make
+      died upon her lips. She again resumed her stocking, but almost instantly
+      laid it down a second time, and appeared wholly unable either to believe
+      or comprehend what he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis,&rdquo; she at length asked, &ldquo;Did you say that all is to be over between
+      us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was my insinuation,&rdquo; replied Denis, &ldquo;The fact is, Susy, that destiny
+      is adverse; clean against our union in the bonds of matrimonial ecstacy.
+      But, Susy, my charmer, I told you before that you were not destitute of
+      logic, and I hope you will bear this heavy visitation as becomes a
+      philosopher.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bear it, Denis! How ought I to bear it, after your saying and swearing,
+      too, that neither father, nor mother, nor priest, nor anybody else would
+      make you desart me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Susan, my nightingale, perhaps you are not aware that there is an
+      authority in existence to which father, mother, and all must knuckle down.
+      That is the church, Susan. Reflect&mdash;<i>dulce decus meum</i>&mdash;that
+      the power of the church is able to loose and unloose, to tie and untie, to
+      forgive and to punish, to raise to the highest heaven, or to sink to the
+      profoundest Tartarus. That power, Susan, thinks proper to claim your
+      unworthy and enamored swain as one of the brightest Colossuses of her
+      future glory. The Irish hierarchy is plased to look upon me as a luminary
+      of almost superhuman brilliancy and coruscation: my talents she pronounces
+      to be of the first magnitude; my eloquence classical and overwhelming, and
+      my learning only adorned by that poor insignificant attribute denominated
+      by philosophers unfathomability!&mdash;hem!&mdash;hem!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis,&rdquo; replied the innocent girl, &ldquo;you sometimes speak that I can
+      undherstand you; but you oftener spake in a way that I can hardly make out
+      what you say. If it's a thing that my love for you, or the solemn promise
+      that passed between us, would stand in your light, or prevint you from
+      higher things as a priest, I am willing to&mdash;to&mdash;to give you up,
+      whatever I may suffer. But you know yourself, that you brought me on from
+      time to time undher your promise, that nothing would ever lead you to lave
+      me in sorrow an' disappointment. Still, I say, that&mdash;But, Denis, is
+      it thrue that you could lave me for anything?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The innocent confidence in his truth expressed by the simplicity of her
+      last question, staggered the young candidate; that is to say, her words,
+      her innocence, and her affection sank deeply into his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;to tell the blessed truth, I am fairly dilemma'd. My
+      heart is in your favor; but&mdash;but&mdash;hem&mdash;you don't know the
+      prospect that is open to me. You don't know the sin of keeping back such a&mdash;a&mdash;a&mdash;galaxy
+      as I am from the church. I say you don't know the sin of it. That's the
+      difficulty. If it was a common case it would be nothing! but to keep back
+      a person like me&mdash;a <i>rara avis in terris</i>&mdash;from the
+      priesthood, is a sin that requires a great dale of interest with the Pope
+      to have absolved.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven above forgive me!&rdquo; exclaimed the artless girl. &ldquo;In that case I
+      wouldn't for the riches of the wide earth stand between you and. God. But
+      I didn't know that before, Denis; and if you had tould me, I think, sooner
+      than get into sich a sin I'd struggle to keep down my love for you, even
+      although my heart should break.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor darling,&rdquo; said Denis, taking her passive hand in his, &ldquo;and would it
+      go so hard with you? Break your heart! Do you love me so well as that,
+      Susan?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Susan's eyes turned on him for a moment, and the tears which his question
+      drew forth gave it a full and a touching reply. She uttered not a word,
+      but after a few deep sobs wiped her eyes, and endeavored to compose her
+      feelings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis felt the influence of her emotions; he remained silent for a short
+      time, during which, however, ambition drew in the background all those
+      dimly splendid visions that associate themselves with the sacerdotal
+      functions, in a country where the people place no bounds to the spiritual
+      power of their pastors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan,&rdquo; said he, after a pause, &ldquo;do you know the difference between a
+      Christian and a hathen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Between a Christian an' a hathen? Why aren't hathens all sinners?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very right. Faith, Susan, you would have shone at the classics. You see
+      <i>dilecta cordis mei,</i> or, <i>cordi meo,</i> for either is good
+      grammar&mdash;you see, Susan, the difference between a Christian and a
+      hathen is this:&mdash; a Christian bears disappointments, with fortitude&mdash;with
+      what is denominated Christian fortitude; whereas, on the contrary, a
+      hathen doesn't bear disappointments at all. Now, Susan, it would cut me to
+      the heart to find that you would become a hathen on this touching and
+      trying occasion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll pray to God, Denis. Isn't that the way to act under afflictions?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Decidedly. There is no other legitimate mode of quelling a heart-ache.
+      And, Susan, when you go to supplication you are at liberty to mention my
+      name&mdash;no, not yet; but if I were once consecrated you might. However,
+      it is better to sink this; say nothing about me when you pray, for, to
+      tell you I truth, I believe you have as much influence above&mdash;<i>super
+      astra</i>&mdash;as I have. There is one argument which I am anxious to
+      press upon you. It is a very simple but a very respectable one after all.
+      I am not all Ireland. You will find excellent good husbands even in this
+      parish. There is, as the old proverb says, as good fish in the say as ever
+      were caught. Do you catch one of them. For me, Susan, the vineyard claims
+      me; I must, as I said, cultivate the grape. We must, consequently&mdash;hem!&mdash;we
+      must&mdash;hem!&mdash;hem!&mdash;consequently strive to forget&mdash;hem!&mdash;I
+      say, to forget each other. It is a trial&mdash;I know&mdash;a desperte
+      visitation, poor fawn, upon your feelings; but, as I said, destiny will be
+      triumphant. What is decreed, is decreed&mdash;I must go to Maynooth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Susan rose, and her eyes flashed with an indignant sense of the
+      cold-blooded manner in which he advised her to select another husband. She
+      was an illiterate girl, but the purity of her feeling supplied the
+      delicacy which reading and a knowledge of more refined society would have
+      given her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it from your lips, Denis,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I hear sich a mane and
+      low-minded an advice? Or do you think that with my weak, and I now see,
+      foolish heart, settled upon you, I could turn round and fix my love upon
+      the first that might ax me? Denis, you promised before God to be mine, and
+      mine only; you often said and swore that you loved me above any human
+      being; but I now see that you only intended to lead me into sin and
+      disgrace, for indeed, and before God I don't think&mdash;I don't&mdash;I
+      don't&mdash;believe that you ever loved me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A burst of grief, mingled with indignation and affliction, followed the
+      words she had uttered. Denis felt himself called on for a vindication, and
+      he was resolved to give it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan,&rdquo; he returned, &ldquo;your imagination is erroneous. By all the classical
+      authors that ever were written, you are antipodialry opposed to facts.
+      What harm is there, seeing that you and I can never be joined in wedlock&mdash;what
+      harm is there, I say, in recommending you another husb&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Susan would hear no more. She gathered up her stocking and ball of thread,
+      placed them in her apron, went into her father's house, shut and bolted
+      the door, and gave way to violent grief. All this occurred in a moment,
+      and Denis found himself excluded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He did not wish, however, to part from her in anger; so, after having
+      attempted to look through the, keyhole of the door, and applied his eye in
+      vain to the window, he at length spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there any body within but yourself, Susy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He received no reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say, Susy&mdash;<i>dilecta juventutis meae</i>&mdash;touching the
+      recommendation&mdash;now don't be crying&mdash;touching the recommendation
+      of another husband, by all the classics that ever were mistranslated, I
+      meant nothing but the purest of consolation. If I did, may I be reduced to
+      primeval and aboriginal ignorance! But you know yourself, that they never
+      prospered who prevented a <i>rara avis</i> like me from entering the
+      church&mdash;from laboring in the vineyard, and cultivating the grape.
+      Don't be hathenish; but act with a philosophy suitable to so dignified an
+      occasion&mdash;Farewell! <i>Macte virtute</i>, and be firm. I swear again
+      by all the class&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The appearance of a neighbor caused him to cut short his oath. Seeing that
+      the man approached the house, he drew off, and returned home, more
+      seriously affected by Susan's agitation than he was willing to admit even
+      to himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This triumph over his affection was, in fact, only the conquest of one
+      passion over another. His attachment to Susan Connor was certainly
+      sincere, and ere the prospects of his entering Maynooth were unexpectedly
+      brought near him, by the interference of Father Finnerty, his secret
+      purpose all along had been to enter with her into the state of matrimony,
+      rather than into the church. Ambition, however, is beyond all comparison
+      the most powerful principle of human conduct, and so Denny found it.
+      Although his unceremonious abandonment of Susan appeared heartless and
+      cruel, yet it was not effected on his part without profound sorrow and
+      remorse. The two principles, when they began to struggle in his heart for
+      supremacy, resembled the rival destinies of Caesar and Mark Antony. Love
+      declined in the presence of ambition; and this, in proportion as all the
+      circumstances calculated to work upon the strong imagination of a young
+      man naturally fond of power, began to assume an appearance of reality. To
+      be, in the course of a few years, a <i>bona fide</i> priest; to possess
+      unlimited sway over the fears and principles of the people; to be endowed
+      with spiritual gifts to he knew not what extent; and to enjoy himself as
+      he had an opportunity of seeing Father Finnerty and his curate do, in the
+      full swing of convivial pleasure, upon the ample hospitality of those who,
+      in addition to this, were ready to kiss the latchet of his shoes&mdash;were,
+      it must be admitted, no inconsiderable motives in influencing the conduct
+      of a person reared in an humble condition of life. The claims of poor
+      Susan, her modesty, her attachment, and her beauty&mdash;were all
+      insufficient to prevail against such a host of opposing motives; and the
+      consequence, though bitter, and subversive of her happiness, was a final
+      determination on the part of Denny, to acquaint her, with a kind of <i>ex-officio</i>
+      formality, that all intercourse upon the subject of their mutual
+      attachment must cease between them. Notwithstanding his boasted knowledge,
+      however, he was ignorant of sentiment, and accordingly confined himself,
+      as I have intimated, to a double species of argument; that is to say,
+      first, the danger and sin of opposing the wishes of the church which had
+      claimed him, as he said, to labor in the vineyard; and secondly, the
+      undoubted fact, that there were plenty of good husbands besides himself in
+      the world, from some one of which, he informed her, he had no doubt, she
+      could be accommodated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the meantime, her image, meek, and fair, and uncomplaining, would from
+      time to time glide into his imagination; and the melody of her voice send
+      its music once more to his vaccillating heart. He usually paused then, and
+      almost considered himself under the influence of a dream; but ambition,
+      with its train of shadowy honors, would immediately present itself, and
+      Susan was again forgotten.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When he rejoined the company, to whom he had given the slip, he found them
+      all gone, except about six or eight whom his father had compelled to stop
+      for dinner. His mind was now much lighter than it had been before his
+      interview with Susan, nor were his spirits at all depressed by perceiving
+      that a new knife and fork lay glittering upon the dresser for his own
+      particular use.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, thin, where have you been all this time,&rdquo; said the father, &ldquo;an' we
+      wantin' to know whether you'd like the mutton to be boiled or roasted!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was soliloquizing in the glen below,&rdquo; replied Denny, once more assuming
+      his pedantry, &ldquo;meditating upon the transparency of all human events; but
+      as for the beef and mutton, I advise you to boil the beef, and roast the
+      mutton, or vice versa, to boil the mutton, and roast the beef. But I
+      persave my mother has anticipated me, and boiled them both with that
+      flitch of bacon that's playing the vagrant in the big pot there. <i>Tria
+      juncla in uno</i>, as Horace says in the Epodes, when expatiating upon the
+      Roman Emperors&mdash;ehem!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Misther Denis,&rdquo; said one of those present, &ldquo;maybe you'd tell us upon the
+      watch, what the hour is, if you plase, sir; myself never can know right at
+      all, except by the shadow of the sun from the corner of our own gavel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; replied Denis, pulling it out with much pomp of manner, &ldquo;it's just
+      half-past two to a quarter of a minute, and a few seconds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why thin what a quare thing entirely a watch is,&rdquo; the other continued;
+      &ldquo;now what makes you hould it to your ear, Misther Denis, if you plase?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The efficient cause of that, Larry, is, that the drum of the ear, you
+      persave&mdash;the drum of the ear&mdash;is enabled to catch the
+      intonations produced by the machinery of its internal operations&mdash;otherwise
+      the fact of applying it to the ear would be unnecessary&mdash;altogether
+      unnecessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me! see what it is to have the knowledge, any way! But isn't it
+      quare how it moves of itself like a livin' crathur? How is that, Misther
+      Denis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Larry,&mdash;ehem&mdash;you see the motions of it are&mdash;that is&mdash;the
+      works or operations, are all continually going; and sure it is from that
+      explanation that we say a watch goes well. That's more than you ever knew
+      before, Larry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed it surely is, sir, an' is much oblaged to you, Misther Denis; sure
+      if I ever come to wear a watch in my fob, I'll know something about it,
+      anyhow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For the remainder of that day Denis was as learned and consequential as
+      ever; his friends, when their hearts were opened by his father's
+      hospitality, all promised him substantial aid in money, and in presents of
+      such articles as they supposed might be serviceable to him in Maynooth.
+      Denny received their proffers of support with suitable dignity and
+      gratitude. A scene of bustle and preparation now commenced among them, nor
+      was Denny himself the least engaged; for it somehow happened, that
+      notwithstanding his profound erudition, he felt it necessary to read night
+      or day in order to pass with more eclat the examination which he had to
+      stand before the bishop ere his appointment to Maynooth. This ordeal was
+      to occur upon a day fixed for the purpose, in the ensuing month; and
+      indeed Denis occupied as much of the intervening period in study as his
+      circumstances would permit. His situation was, at this crisis, certainly
+      peculiar. Every person related to him in the slightest degree contrived to
+      revive their relationship; his former school-fellows, on hearing that he
+      was actually destined to be of the church, renewed their acquaintance with
+      him, and those who had been servants to his father, took the liberty of
+      speaking to him upon the strength of that fact. No child, to the remotest
+      shade of affinity, was born, for which he did not stand godfather; nieces
+      and nephews thickened about him, all with remarkable talents, and many of
+      them, particularly of the nieces, said to be exceedingly genteel&mdash;very
+      thrifty for their ages, and likely to make excellent housekeepers. A
+      strong likeness to himself was also pointed out in the features of his
+      nephews, one of whom had his born nose&mdash;another his eyes&mdash;and a
+      third again had his brave high-flown way with him. In short, he began to
+      feel some of the inconveniences of greatness; and, like it, to be
+      surrounded by cringing servility and meanness. When he went to the chapel
+      he was beset, and followed from place to place, by a retinue of friends
+      who were all anxious to secure to themselves the most conspicuous marks of
+      his notice. It was the same thing in fair or market; they contended with
+      each other who should do him most honor, or afford to him and his father's
+      immediate family the most costly treat, accompanied by the grossest
+      expressions of flattery. Every male infant born among them was called
+      Dionysius; and every female one Susan, after his favorite sister. All
+      this, to a lad like Denis, already remarkable for his vanity, was very
+      trying; or rather, it absolutely turned his brain, and made him probably
+      as finished a specimen of pride, self-conceit, and domineering arrogance,
+      mingled with a kind of lurking humorous contempt for his cringing
+      relations, as could be displayed in the person of some shallow but knavish
+      prime minister, surrounded by his selfish sycophants, whom he encourages
+      and despises.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At home he was idolized&mdash;overwhelmed with respect and deference. The
+      slightest intimation of his wish was a command to them; the beef, and
+      fowl, and mutton, were at hand in all the variety of culinary skill, and
+      not a soul in the house durst lay a hand upon his knife and fork but
+      himself. In the morning, when the family were to be seen around the
+      kitchen table at their plain but substantial breakfast, Denis was lording
+      it in solitary greatness over an excellent breakfast of tea and eggs in
+      another room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was now, too, that the king's English, as well as the mutton, was
+      carved and hacked to some purpose; epithets prodigiously long and foreign
+      to the purpose were pressed into his conversation, for no other reason
+      than because those to whom he spoke could not understand them; but the
+      principal portion of his time was devoted to study. The bishop, he had
+      heard, was a sound scholar, and exceedingly scrupulous in recommending any
+      to Maynooth, except such as were well versed in the preparatory course.
+      Independently of this, he was anxious, he said, to distinguish himself in
+      his examination, and, if possible, to sustain as high a character with the
+      bishop and his fellow-students, as he did among the peasantry of his own
+      neighborhood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length the day approached. The bishop's residence was not distant more
+      than a few hours' ride, and he would have sufficient time to arrive there,
+      pass his examination, and return in time for dinner. On the eve of his
+      departure, old Denis invited Father Finnerty, his curate and about a dozen
+      relations and friends, to dine with him the next day; when&mdash;Denis
+      having surmounted the last obstacle to the accomplishment of his hopes&mdash;their
+      hearts could open without a single reflection to check the exuberance of
+      their pride, hospitality, and happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I have often said to my friends, and I now repeat it in print, that after
+      all there is no people bound up so strongly to each other by the ties of
+      domestic life as the Irish. On the night which preceded this joyous and
+      important day, a spirit of silent but tender affection dwelt in every
+      heart of the O'Shaughnessys. The great point of interest was Denis. He
+      himself was serious, and evidently labored under that strong anxiety so
+      natural to a youth in his circumstances. A Roman Catholic bishop, too, is
+      a personage looked upon by the people with a kind of feeling that embodies
+      in it awe, reverence, and fear. Though, in this country, an humble man
+      possessing neither the rank in society, outward splendor, nor the gorgeous
+      profusion of wealth and pomp which characterize a prelate of the
+      Established Church; yet it is unquestionable that the gloomy dread, and
+      sense of formidable power with which they impress the minds of the
+      submissive peasantry, immeasurably surpass the more legitimate influence
+      which any Protestant dignitary could exercise over those who stand, with
+      respect to him, in a more rational and independent position.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not surprising that Denis, who practised upon ignorant people that
+      petty despotism for which he was so remarkable, should now, on coming in
+      contact with great spiritual authority, adopt his own principles, and
+      relapse from the proud pedant into the cowardly slave. True it is that he
+      presented a most melancholy specimen of independence in a crisis where
+      moral courage was so necessary; but his dread of the coming day was
+      judiciously locked up in his own bosom. His silence and apprehension were
+      imputed to the workings of a mind learnedly engaged in arranging the vast
+      stores of knowledge with which it was so abundantly stocked; his moody
+      picture of the bishop's brow; his reflection that he was going before so
+      sacred a person, as a candidate for the church, with his heart yet
+      redolent of earthly affection for Susan Connor; his apprehension that the
+      bishop's spiritual scent might sagaciously smell it out, were all put down
+      by the family to the credit of uncommon learning, which, as his mother
+      observed truly, &ldquo;often makes men do quare things.&rdquo; His embarrassments,
+      however, inasmuch as they were ascribed by them to wrong causes, endeared
+      him more to their hearts than ever. Because he spoke little, neither the
+      usual noise nor bustle of a large family disturbed the silence of the
+      house; every word was uttered that evening in a low tone, at once
+      expressive of tenderness and respect. The family supper was tea, in
+      compliment to Denis; and they all partook of it with him. Nothing humbles
+      the mind, and gives the natural feelings their full play, so well as a
+      struggle in life, or the appearance of its approach.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis,&rdquo; said the father, &ldquo;the time will come when we won't have you at
+      all among us; but, thank goodness, you'll be in a betther place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis heard him not, and consequently made no reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They say Maynewth's a tryin' place, too,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;an' I'd be sorry
+      to see him pulled down to anatomy, like some of the scarecrows that come
+      qut of it. I hope you'll bear it betther.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you speak to me?&rdquo; said Denis, awaking out of a reverie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do, sir,&rdquo; replied the father; and as he uttered the words the son
+      perceived that his eyes were fixed upon him with an expression of
+      affectionate sorrow and pride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The youth was then in a serious mood, free from all the dominion of that
+      learned mania under which he had so frequently signalized himself: the
+      sorrow of his father, and a consciousness of the deep affection and
+      unceasing kindness which he had ever experienced from him, joined to a
+      recollection of their former friendly disputes and companionship, touched
+      Denny to the quick. But the humility with which he applied to him the
+      epithet sir, touched him most. What! thought he&mdash;ought my
+      affectionate father to be thrown to such a distance from a son, who owes
+      everything to his love and goodness! The thought of his stooping so humbly
+      before him smote the boy's heart, and the tears glistened in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you have been kind and good to me, beyond my deserts;
+      surely then I cannot bear to hear you address me in that manner, as if we
+      were both strangers. Nor while I am with you, shall any of you so address
+      me. Remember that I am still your son and their brother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The natural affection displayed in this speech soon melted the whole
+      family into tears&mdash;not excepting Denis himself, who felt that grief
+      which we experience when about to be separated for the first time from
+      those we love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come over, avourneen,&rdquo; said his mother, drying her eyes with the corner
+      of her check apron: &ldquo;come over, <i>acushla machree</i>, an' sit beside me:
+      sure although we're sorry for you, Denis, it's proud our hearts are of
+      you, an' good right we have, a sullish! Come over, an let me be near you
+      as long as I can, any way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis placed himself beside her, and the proud mother drew his head over
+      upon her bosom, and bedewed his face with a gush of tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They say,&rdquo; she observed, &ldquo;that it's sinful to shed tears when there's no
+      occasion for grief; but I hope it's no sin to cry when one's heart is full
+      of somethin' that brings them to one's eyes, whether they will or not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mave,&rdquo; said the father, &ldquo;I'll miss him more nor any of you: but sure
+      he'll often send letters to us from Maynewth, to tell us now he's gettin'
+      on; an' we'll be proud enough, never fear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll miss me, Denis,&rdquo; said his favorite sister, who was also called
+      Susan; &ldquo;for you'll find no one in Maynewth that will keep your linen so
+      white as I did: but never fear, I'll be always knittin' you stockings; an'
+      every year I'll make you half-a-dozen shirts, and you'll think them more
+      natural nor other shirts, when you know they came from your own home&mdash;from
+      them that you love! Won't you, Denis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will, Susy; and I will love the shirts for the sake of the hands that
+      made them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I won't allow Susy Connor to help me as she used to do: they'll be
+      all Alley's sewin' and mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The poor colleen&mdash;listen to her!&rdquo; exclaimed the affectionate father;
+      &ldquo;indeed you will, Susy; ay, and hem his cravats, that we'll send him ready
+      made an' all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied Denis, &ldquo;but as to Susy Connor&mdash;hem&mdash;why, upon
+      considera&mdash;he&mdash;hem&mdash;upon second thoughts, I don't see why
+      you should prevent her from helping you; she's a neighbor's daughter, and
+      a well-wisher, of whose prosperity in life I'd always wish to hear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The poor girl's very bad in her health, for the last three weeks,&rdquo;
+       observed his other sister Alley: &ldquo;she has lost her appetite, an' is cast
+      down entirely in her spirits. You ought to go an' see her, Denis, before
+      you set out for the college, if it was only on her dacent father's
+      account. When I was tellin' her yisterday that you wor to get the bishop's
+      letter for Maynewth to-morrow, she was in so poor a state of health that
+      she nearly fainted. I had to give her a drink of wather, and sprinkle her
+      face with it. Well, she's a purty crathur, an' a good girl, an' was always
+      that, dear knows!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis achree,&rdquo; said his mother, somewhat alarmed, &ldquo;are you any way
+      unwell? Why your heart's batin' like a new catched chicken! Are you sick,
+      acushla; or are you used to this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It won't signify,&rdquo; replied Denis, gently raising himself from his
+      mother's arms, &ldquo;I will sit up, mother; it's but a sudden stroke or two of
+      <i>tremor cordis</i>, produced probably by having my mind too much upon
+      one object.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; said his father, &ldquo;he will be the betther of a little drop of
+      the poteen made into punch, an' for that matter we can all take a sup of
+      it; as there's no one here but ourselves, we will have it snug an'
+      comfortable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing resembles an April day more than the general disposition of the
+      Irish people. When old Denis's proposal for the punch was made, the gloom
+      which hung over the family&mdash;originating, as it did, more in joy than
+      in soitow&mdash;soon began to disappear. Their countenances gradually
+      brightened, by and by mirth stole out, and ere the punch had accomplished
+      its first round, laughter, and jest, and good-humor,&mdash;each, in
+      consequence of the occasion, more buoyant and vivacious than usual, were
+      in full play. Denis himself, when animated by the unexcised liquor, threw
+      off his dejection, and' ere the night was half spent found himself in the
+      highest region of pedantry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would not,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;turn my back upon any other candidate in the
+      province, in point of preparatory excellence and ardency of imagination. I
+      say, sitting here beside you, my worthy and logical father, I would not
+      retrograde from any candidate for the honors of the Catholic Church in the
+      province&mdash;in the kingdom&mdash;in Europe; and it is not improbable
+      but I might progradiate another step, and say Christendom at large. And
+      now, what's a candidate? Father, you have some apprehension in you, and
+      are a passable second-hand controversialist&mdash;what's a candidate? Will
+      you tell me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I give it up, Denis; but you'll tell us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I will tell you. Candidate signifies a man dressed in fustian; it
+      comes from <i>candidus</i>, which is partly Greek, partly Latin, and
+      partly Hebrew. It was the learned designation for Irish linen, too, which
+      in the time of the Romans was in great request at Home; but it was changed
+      to signify fustian, because it was found that everything a man promised on
+      becoming a candidate for any office, turned out to be only fustian when he
+      got it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis, avourneen,&rdquo; said his mother, &ldquo;the greatest comfort myself has is
+      to be thinkin' that when you're a priest, you can be sayin' masses for my
+      poor sinful sowl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, there is undoubtedly comfort in, that reflection; and depend upon
+      it, my dear mother, that I'll be sure to clinch your masses in the surest
+      mode. I'll not fly over them like Camilla across a field of potato oats,
+      without discommoding a single walk, as too many of my worthy brethren&mdash;I
+      mane as! too many of those whose worthy brother I will soon be&mdash;do in
+      this present year of grace. I'm no fool at the Latin, but, as I'm an
+      unworthy candidate for Maynooth, I cannot even understand every fifteenth
+      word they say when reading mass, independently of the utter scorn with
+      which they treat; these two Scholastic old worthies, called! Syntax and
+      Prosody.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis,&rdquo; said the father, &ldquo;nothing would give me greater delight than to
+      be present at your first mass, an' your first sarmon; and next to that I
+      would like to be stumpin' about wid a dacent staff in my hand, maybe wid a
+      bit of silver on the head of it, takin' care of your place when you'd have
+      a parish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At all events, if you're not with me, father, I'll keep you comfortable
+      wherever you'll be, whether in this world or the other; for, plase
+      goodness, I'll have some influence in both.&mdash;When I get a parish,
+      however, it is not improbable that I may have occasion to see company; the
+      neighboring gentlemen will be apt to relish my society, particularly those
+      who are addicted to conviviality; and our object will be to render
+      ourselves as populous as possible; now, whether in that case it would be
+      compatible&mdash;but never fear, father, whilst I have the means, you or
+      one of the family shall never want.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you let the people be far behind in their dues, Denis?&rdquo; inquired
+      Brian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no&mdash;leave that point to my management. Depend upon it, I'll have
+      them like mice before me&mdash;ready to run into the first augerhole they
+      meet. I'll collect lots of oats, and get as much yarn every year as would
+      clothe three regiments of militia, or, for that matther, of dragoons. I'll
+      appoint my stations, too, in the snuggest farmers' houses in the parish,
+      just as Father Finnerty, our worthy parochial priest, ingeniously
+      contrives to do. And, to revert secondarily to the collection of the oats,
+      I'll talk liberally to the Protestant boddaghs; give the Presbyterians a
+      learned homily upon civil and religious freedom: make hard hits with them
+      at that Incubus, the Established Church; and, never fear, but I shall fill
+      bag after bag with good corn from many of both creeds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; said Brian, &ldquo;will be givin' them the bag to hould in airnest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Brian, but it will be makin' them fill the bag when I hold it, which
+      will be better still.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; said Susan, &ldquo;who'll keep house for you? You know that a priest
+      can't live widout a housekeeper.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That, Susy,&rdquo; replied Denis, &ldquo;is, and will be the most difficult point on
+      which to accomplish anything like a satisfactory determination. I have
+      nieces enough, however. There's Peter Finnegan's eldest daughter Mary, and
+      Hugh Tracy's Ailsey&mdash;(to whom he added about a dozen and a half more)&mdash;together
+      with several yet to be endowed with existence, all of whom will be brisk
+      candidates for the situation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't think,&rdquo; replied Mrs. O'Shaughnessy, &ldquo;that you'll ever get any one
+      who'd be more comfortable about you nor your own ould mother. What do you
+      think of takin' myself, Denis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, but consider the accomplishments in the culinary art&mdash;<i>in re
+      vel in arte culinaria</i>&mdash;which will be necessary for my housekeeper
+      to know. How would you, for instance, dress a dinner for the bishop if he
+      happened to pay me a visit, as you may be certain he will? How would you
+      make pies and puddings, and disport your fancy through all the varieties
+      of roast and boil? How would you dress a fowl that it would stand upon a
+      dish as if it was going to dance a hornpipe? How would you amalgamate the
+      different genera of wine with boiling fluid and crystallized saccharine
+      matter? How would you dispose of the various dishes upon the table
+      according to high life and mathematics? Wouldn't you be too old to bathe
+      my feet when I'd be unwell? Wouldn't you be too old to bring me my whey in
+      the morning soon as I'd awake, perhaps with a severe headache, after the
+      plenary indulgence of a clerical compotation? Wouldn't you be too old to
+      sit up till the middle of the nocturnal hour, awaiting my arrival home?
+      Wouldn't you be&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hut, tut, that's enough, Denny, I'd never do at all. No, no, but I'll sit
+      a clane, dacent ould woman in the corner upon a chair that you'll get made
+      for me. There I'll be wid my pipe and tobacco, smokin' at my aise,
+      chattin' to the sarvints, and sometimes discoorsin' the neighbors that'll
+      come to inquire for you, when they'll be sittin' in the kitchen waitin'
+      till you get through your office. Jist let me have that, Dinny achora, and
+      I'll be as happy as the day's long.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I on the other side,&rdquo; said his father, naturally enough struck with
+      the happy simplicity of the picture which his wife drew, &ldquo;on the other
+      side, Mave, a snug, dacent ould man, chattin' to you across the fire,
+      proud to see the bishop an' the gintlemen about him. An' I wouldn't ax to
+      be taken into the parlor at all, except, maybe, when there would be nobody
+      there but yourself, Denis; an' that your mother an' I would go into the
+      parlor to get a glass of punch, or, if it could be spared, a little taste
+      of wine for novelty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so you shall, both of you&mdash;you, father, at one side of the hob,
+      and my mother here at the other, the king and queen of my culinarian
+      dominions. But practice taciturnity a little&mdash;I'm visited by the
+      muse, and must indulge in a strain of vocal melody&mdash;hem&mdash;'tis a
+      few lines of my own composure, the offspring of a moment of inspiration by
+      the nine female Heliconians; but before I incipiate, here's to my own
+      celebrity to-morrow, and afterwards all your healths!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He then proceeded to sing in his best style a song composed, as he said,
+      by himself, but which, as the composition was rather an eccentric one, we
+      decline giving.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis,&rdquo; said his brother, &ldquo;you'll have great sport at the Station's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Brian, most inimitable specimen of fraternity, I do look into the
+      futurity of a station with great complacency. Hem&mdash;in the morning I
+      rise up in imagination, and after reading part of my office, I and my
+      curate&mdash;<i>ego et coadjutor metis</i>&mdash;or, if I get a large
+      parish, perhaps I and my two curates&mdash;<i>ego et coudjutores mei</i>&mdash;order
+      our horses, and of a fine, calm summer morning we mount them as gracefully
+      as three throopers. The sun is up, and of coorse the moon is down, and the
+      glitter of the light, the sparkling of the dew, the canticles of the
+      birds, and the <i>melodiotis</i> cowing of the crows in Squire Grimshaw's
+      rookery&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Denis, is it this parish you'll have?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silence, silence, till I complate my rural ideas&mdash;in some
+      gentleman's rookery at all events; the thrush here, the blackbird there,
+      the corn-craik chanting its varied note in another place, and so on. In
+      the meantime we reverend sentimentalists advance, gazing with odoriferous
+      admiration upon the prospect about us, and expatiating in the purest of
+      Latin upon the beauties of unsophisticated nature. When we meet the
+      peasants going out to their work, they put their hands to their hats for
+      us; but as I am known to be the parochial priest, it is to me the
+      salutation is directed, which I return with the air of a man who thinks
+      nothing of such things; but, I on the contrary, knows them to be his due.
+      The poor creatures of curates you must know, don't presume to speak of
+      themselves, but simply answer whenever I condescend to propose
+      conversation, for I'll keep them down, never fear. In this edifying style
+      we proceed&mdash;I a few steps in advance, and they at a respectful
+      distance behind me, the heads of their horses just to my saddle skirts&mdash;my
+      clerical boots as brilliant as the countenance of Phoebus, when decked
+      with rosy smiles, theirs more subordinately polished, for there should be
+      gradations in all things, and humility is the first of virtues in a
+      Christian curate. My bunch of gold sales stands out proudly from my
+      anterior rotundity, for by this time, plase God, I'll be getting
+      frolicsome and corpulent: they with only a poor bit of ribbon, and a
+      single two-penny kay, stained with verdigrace. In the meantime, we come
+      within sight of the wealthy farmer's house, wherein we are to hold the
+      edifying solemnity of a station. There is a joyful appearance of study and
+      bustle about the premises: the peasantry are flocking towards it, dressed
+      in their best clothes; the proprietors of the mansion itself are running
+      out to try if we are in appearance, and the very smoke disports itself
+      hilariously in the air, and bounds up as if it was striving to catch the
+      first glimpse of the clargy. When we approach, the good man&mdash;<i>pater-familias</i>&mdash;comes
+      out to meet us, and the good woman&mdash;<i>mater-farmilias</i>&mdash;comes
+      curtseying from the door to give the head <i>milliafailtha</i>. No sooner
+      do we parsave ourselves noticed, then out comes the Breviary, and in a
+      moment we are at our morning devotions. I being the rector, am
+      particularly grave and dignified. I do not speak much, but am rather
+      sharp, and order the curates, whom I treat, however, with great respect
+      before the people, instantly to work. This impresses those who are present
+      with awe and reverence for us all, especially for Father O'Shaughnessy
+      himself&mdash;(that's me).&mdash;I then take a short turn or two across
+      the floor, silently perusing my office, after which I lay it aside, and
+      relax into a little conversation with the people of the house, to show
+      that I can conciliate by love as readily as I can impress them with fear;
+      for, you see <i>divide et impera</i> is as aptly applied to the passions
+      as to maxims of state policy&mdash;ehem. I then go to my tribunal, and
+      first hear the man and woman and family of the house, and afther them the
+      other penitents according as they can come to me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thus we go on absolving in great style, till it is time for the <i>matutinal</i>
+      meal&mdash;vulgarly called breakfast; when the whiskey, eggs, toast, and
+      tea as strong as Hercules, with ham, fowl, beef-steaks, or mutton-chops,
+      all pour in upon us in the full tide of hospitality. Helter-skelter, cut
+      and thrust, right and left, we work away, till the appetite reposes itself
+      upon the cushion of repletion: and off we go once more, full an' warm, to
+      the delicate employment of adjudicating upon sin and transgression, until
+      dinner comes, when, having despatched as many as possible&mdash;for the
+      quicker we get through them the better&mdash;we set about despatching what
+      is always worth a ship-load of such riff-raff&mdash;<i>videlicet</i>, a
+      good and extensive dinner. Oh, ye pagan gods of eating and drinking,
+      Bacchus and&mdash;let me see who the presiding deity of good feeding was
+      in the Olympian synod&mdash;as I'm an unworthy candidate I forget that
+      topic of learning; but no matter, <i>non constat</i>. Oh, ye pagan
+      professors of ating and drinking, Bacchus, and Epicurus, and St.
+      Heliogabalus, Anthony of Padua, and Paul the Hermit, who poached for his
+      own venison, St. Tuck, and St. Takem, St. Drinkem, and St. Eatem, with all
+      the other reverend worthies, who bore the blushing honors of the table
+      thick upon your noses, come and inspire your unworthy candidate, while he
+      essays to chant the praises of a Station dinner!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, then, does the priest appropriate to himself his due share of
+      enjoyment Then does he, like Elias, throw his garment of inspiration upon
+      his coadjutors. Then is the goose cut up, and the farmer's distilled Latin
+      is found to be purer and more edifying than the distillation of Maynooth.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     'Drink deep, or taste not that Pierian spring,
+     A little learning here's a dangerous thing.'
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      And so it is, as far as this inspiring language is concerned. A station
+      dinner is the very pinnacle of a priest's happiness. There is the fun and
+      frolic; then does the lemon-juice of mirth and humor come out of their
+      reverences, like secret writing, as soon as they get properly warm. The
+      song and the joke, the laugh and the leer, the shaking of hands, the
+      making of matches, and the projection of weddings,&mdash;och, I must
+      conclude, or my brisk fancy will dissolve in the deluding vision! Here's
+      to my celebrity to-morrow, and may the Bishop catch a Tartar in your son,
+      my excellent and logical father!&mdash;as I tell you among ourselves he
+      will do. Mark me, I say it, but it's <i>inter nos</i>, it won't go
+      further; but should he trouble me with profundity, may be I'll make a <i>ludibrium</i>
+      of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you forget the weddings and christenings, Denis; you'll have great
+      sport at them too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't remember three things at a time, Brian; but you are mistaken,
+      however, I had them snug in one corner of my cranium. The weddings and the
+      christenings! do you think I'll have nothing to do in them, you! <i>stultus</i>
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Denis, is there any harm in the priests enjoying themselves, and
+      they so holy as we know they are?&rdquo; inquired his mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not the least in life; considering what severe fasting, and great praying
+      they have; besides it's necessary for them to take something to put the
+      sins of the people out of their heads, and that's one reason why they are
+      often jolly at Stations.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My goodness, what light Denis can throw upon anything!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not without deep study, mother; but let us have another portion of punch
+      each, afther which I'll read a Latin De Profundis, and we'll go to bed, I
+      must be up early tomorrow; and, Brian, you'll please to have the black
+      mare saddled and my spur brightened as jinteely as you can, for I must go
+      in as much state and grandeur as possible.&rdquo; Accordingly, in due time,
+      after hearing the De Profundis, which Denis read in as sonorous a tone,
+      and as pompous a manner, as he could assume, they went to bed for the
+      night, to dream of future dignities for their relative.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Denis appeared the next morning, it was evident that the spirit of
+      prophecy in which he had contemplated the enjoyments annexed to his ideal
+      station on the preceding night, had departed from him. He was pale and
+      anxious, as in the early part of the,previous evening. At breakfast, his
+      very appetite treacherously abandoned him, despite the buttered toast and
+      eggs which his mother forced upon him with such tender assiduity, in
+      order, she said, to make him stout against the Bishop. Her solicitations,
+      however, were vain; after attempting to eat to no purpose, he arose and
+      began to prepare himself for his journey. This, indeed, was a work of
+      considerable importance, for, as they had no looking-glass, he was obliged
+      to dress himself over a tub of water, in which, since truth must be told,
+      he saw a very cowardly visage. In due time, however, he was ready to
+      proceed upon his journey, apparelled in a new suit of black that sat
+      stiffly and awkwardly upon him, crumpled in a manner that enabled any
+      person, at a glance, to perceive that it was worn for the first time. When
+      he was setting out, his father approached him with a small jug of holy
+      water in his hand. &ldquo;Denis,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I think you won't be the worse for a
+      sprinkle of this;&rdquo; and he accordingly was about to shake it with a little
+      brush over his person, when Denis arrested his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Easy, father,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;you don't remember that my new clothes are
+      on. I'll just take a little with, my fingers, for you know one drop is as
+      good as a thousand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know that,&rdquo; said the father, &ldquo;but on the other hand you know it's not
+      lucky to refuse it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't refuse it,&rdquo; rejoined Denis, &ldquo;I surely took a quantum suff. of it
+      with my own hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was very near a refusal,&rdquo; said the father, in a disappointed and
+      somewhat sorrowful tone; &ldquo;but it can't be helped now. I'm only sorry you
+      put it and quantum suff. in connection at all. Quantum suff. is what
+      Father Finnerty says, when he will take no more punch; and it doesn't
+      argue respect in you to make as little of a jug of holy wather as he does
+      of a jug of punch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sarry for it too,&rdquo; replied Denis, who was every whit as superstitious
+      as his father; &ldquo;and to atone for my error, I desire you will sprinkle me
+      all over with it&mdash;clothes and all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The father complied with this, and Denis was setting out, when his mother
+      exclaimed, &ldquo;Blessed be them above us, Denis More! Look at the boy's legs!
+      There's luck! Why one of his stockin's has the wrong side out, and it's
+      upon the right leg too! Well, this will be a fortunate day for you, Denis,
+      any way; the same thing never happened myself, but something good followed
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This produced a slight conflict between Denis's personal vanity and
+      superstition; but on this occasion superstition prevailed: he even felt
+      his spirits considerably elevated by the incident, mounted the mare, and
+      after jerking himself once or twice in the saddle, to be certain that all
+      was right, he touched her with the spur, and set out to be examined by the
+      Bishop, exclaiming as he went, &ldquo;Let his lordship take care that I don't
+      make a <i>ludibrium</i> of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The family at that moment all came to the door, where they stood looking
+      after, and admiring him, until he turned a corner of the road, and left
+      their sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Many were the speculations entered into during his absence, as to the
+      fact, whether or not he would put down the bishop in the course of the
+      examination; some of them holding that he could do so if he wished; but
+      others of them denying that it was possible for him, inasmuch as he had
+      never received holy orders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day passed, but not in the usual way, in Denis More O'Shaughnessy's.
+      The females of the family were busily engaged in preparing for the dinner,
+      to which Father Finnerty, his curate, and several of their nearest and
+      wealthiest friends had been invited; and the men in clearing out the
+      stables and other offices for the horses of the guests. Pride and
+      satisfaction were visible on every face, and that disposition to
+      cordiality and to the oblivion of everything unpleasant to the mind,
+      marked, in a prominent manner, their conduct and conversation. Old Denis
+      went, and voluntarily spoke to a neighbor, with whom he had not exchanged
+      a word, except in anger, for some time. He found him at work in the field,
+      and, advancing with open hand and heart, he begged his pardon for any
+      offence he might have given him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My son,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;is goin' to Maynooth; and as he is a boy that we have
+      a good right to be proud of, and as our friends are comin' to ate their
+      dinner wid us to-day, and as&mdash;as my heart is to full to bear ill-will
+      against any livin' sowl, let alone a man that I know to be sound at the
+      heart, in spite of all that has come between us&mdash;I say, Darby, I
+      forgive you, and I expect pardon for my share of the offence. There's the
+      hand of an honest man&mdash;let us be as neighbors ought to be, and not
+      divided into parties and factions against one another, as we have been too
+      long. Take your dinner wid us to-day, and let us hear no more about
+      ill-will and unkindness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis,&rdquo; said his friend, &ldquo;it ill becomes you to spake first. 'Tis I that
+      ought to do that, and to do it long ago too; but you see, somehow, so long
+      as it was to be decided by blows between the families, I'd never give in.
+      Not but that I might do so, but my sons, Denis, wouldn't hear of it.
+      Throth, I'm glad of this, and so will they too; for only for the honor and
+      glory of houldin' out, we might be all friends through other long ago. And
+      I'll tell you what, we couldn't do better, the two factions of us, nor
+      join and thrash them Haigneys that always put between us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Darby, I tell you, I bear no ill-will, no bad thoughts agin any born
+      Christian this day, and I won't hear of that. Come to us about five
+      o'clock: we're to have Father Finnerty, and Father Molony, his curate: all
+      friends, man, all friends; and Denny, God guard him this day, will be
+      home, afther passin' the Bishop, about four o'clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I always thought that gorsoon would come to somethin'. Why it was
+      wondherful how he used to discoorse upon the chapel-green, yourself and
+      himself: but he soon left you behind. And how he sealed up poor ould
+      Dixon, the parish dark's mouth, at Barny Boccagh's wake. God rest his
+      soul! It was talkin' about the Protestant church they wor. 'Why,' said
+      Misther Denis, 'you ould termagent, can you tell me who first discovered
+      your church?' The dotin' ould crathur began of hummin', and hawin', and
+      advisin' the boy to have more sense. 'Come,' said he, 'you ould canticle,
+      can you answer? But for fear you can't, I'll answer for you. It was the
+      divil discovered it, one fine mornin' that he went out to get an appetite,
+      bein' in delicate health.' Why, Denis, you'd tie all that wor present wid
+      a rotten sthraw.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Darby, I ax your pardon over agin for what came between us; and I see now
+      betther than I did, that the fault of it was more mine nor yours. You'll
+      be down surely about five o'clock?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must go and take this beard off o' me, and clane myself; and I may as
+      well do that now: but I'll be down, never fear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In throth the boy was always bright!&mdash;ha, ha, ha!&mdash;and he
+      sobered Dixon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Had him like a judge in no time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he would do it&mdash;he could do that, at all times. God be wid you,
+      Darby, till I see you in the evenin'.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Bannaght lhath</i>, Denis, an' I'm proud we're as we ought to be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      About four o'clock, the expected guests began to assemble at Denis's; and
+      about the same hour one might perceive Susan O'Shaughnessy running out to
+      a stile a little above the house, where she stood for a few minutes, with
+      her hand shadingher eyes, looking long and intensely towards the direction
+      from which she expected her brother to return. Hitherto, however, he could
+      not be discovered in the distance, although scarcely five minutes elapsed
+      during the intervals of her appearance at the stile to watch him. Some
+      horsemen she did notice; but after straining her eyes eagerly and
+      anxiously, she was enabled only to report, with a dejected air, that they
+      were their own friends coming from a distant part of the parish, to be
+      present at the dinner. At length, after a long and eager look, she ran in
+      with an exclamation of delight, saying&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank goodness, he's comin' at last; I see somebody dressed in black
+      ridin' down the upper end of Tim Marly's boreen, an' I'm sure an' certain
+      it must be Denis, from his dress!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll warrant it is, my colleen,&rdquo; replied her father; &ldquo;he said he'd be
+      here before the dinner would be ready, an' it's widin a good hour of that.
+      I'll thry myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He and his daughter once more went out; but, alas! only to experience a
+      fresh disappointment. Instead of Denis, it was Father Finnerty; who, it
+      appeared, felt as anxious to be in time for dinner, as the young candidate
+      himself could have done. He was advancing at a brisk trot, not upon the
+      colt which had been presented to him, but upon his old nag, which seemed
+      to feel as eager to get at Denis's oats, as its owner did to taste his
+      mutton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see, Susy, we'll have a day of it, plase goodness,&rdquo; observed Denis to
+      the girl; &ldquo;here's Father Finnerty, and I wouldn't for more nor I'll
+      mention that he had staid away: and I hope the coidjuther will come as
+      well as himself. Do you go in, aroon, and tell them he's comin', and I'll
+      go and meet him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Most of Denis's friends were now assembled, dressed in their best apparel,
+      and Raised to the highest pitch of good humor; no man who knows the relish
+      with which Irishmen enter into convivial enjoyments, can be ignorant of
+      the remarkable flow of spirits which the prospect of an abundant and
+      hospitable dinner produces among them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Father Finnerty was one of those priests who constitute a numerous species
+      in Ireland; regular, but loose and careless in the observances of his
+      church, he could not be taxed with any positive neglect of pastoral duty.
+      He held his stations at stated times and places, with great exactness, but
+      when the severer duties annexed to them were performed, he relaxed into
+      the boon companion, sang his song, told his story, laughed his laugh, and
+      occasionally danced his dance, the very <i>beau ideal</i> of a rough,
+      shrewd, humorous divine, who, amidst the hilarity of convivial mirth, kept
+      an eye to his own interest, and sweetened the severity with which he
+      exacted his &ldquo;dues&rdquo; by a manner at once jocose and familiar. If a wealthy
+      farmer had a child to christen, his reverence declined baptizing it in the
+      chapel, but as a proof of his marked respect for its parents, he and his
+      curate did them the honor of performing the ceremony at their own house.
+      If a marriage was to be solemnized, provided the parties were wealthy, he
+      adopted the same course, and manifested the same flattering marks of his
+      particular esteem for the parties, by attending at their residence; or if
+      they preferred the pleasure of a journey to his own house, he and his
+      curate accompanied them home from the same motives. This condescension,
+      whilst it raised the pride of the parties, secured a good dinner and a
+      pleasant evening's entertainment for the priests, enhanced their humility
+      exceedingly, for the more they enjoyed themselves, the more highly did
+      their friends consider themselves honored. This mode of life might, one
+      would suppose, lessen their importance and that personal respect which is
+      entertained for the priests by the people; but it is not so&mdash;the
+      priests can, the moment such scenes are ended, pass, with the greatest
+      aptitude of habit, into the hard, gloomy character of men who are replete
+      with profound knowledge, exalted piety, and extraordinary power. The
+      sullen frown, the angry glance, or the mysterious allusion to the
+      omnipotent authority of the church, as vested in their persons, joined to
+      some unintelligible dogma, laid down as their authority, are always
+      sufficient to check anything derogatory towards them, which is apt to
+      originate in the unguarded moments of conviviality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Plase your Reverence, I'll put him up myself,&rdquo; said Denis to Father
+      Finnerty, as he took his horse by the bridle, and led him towards the
+      stable, &ldquo;and how is my cowlt doin' wid you, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Troublesome, Denis; he was in a bad state when I got him, and he'll cost
+      me nearly his price before I have him thoroughly broke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was pretty well broke wid me, I know,&rdquo; replied Denis, &ldquo;and I'm afear'd
+      you've given him into the hands of some one that knows little about
+      horses. Mave,&rdquo; he shouted, passing the kitchen door, &ldquo;here's Father
+      Finnerty&mdash;go in, Docthor, and put big Brian Buie out o' the corner;
+      for goodness sake Exltimnicate him from the hob&mdash;an' sure you have
+      power to do that any way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The priest laughed, but immediately assuming a grave face, as he entered,
+      exclaimed&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brian Buie, in the name of the forty-seventh proposition of Euclid's
+      Elements&mdash;in the name of the cube and square roots&mdash;of Algebra,
+      Mathematics, Fluxions, and the doctrine of all essential spirits that
+      admit of proof&mdash;in the name of Nebuchadanezar the divine, who
+      invented the convenient scheme of taking a cold collation under a hedge&mdash;by
+      the power of that profound branch of learning, the Greek Digemma&mdash;by
+      the authority of true Latin, primo, of Beotian Greek, secundo, and of
+      Arabian Hebrew, tertio; which is, when united by the skill of profound
+      erudition, primo, secundo, tertio; or, being reversed by the logic of
+      illustration, <i>tertio, secundo, primo. Commando te in nomine botteli
+      potheeni boni drinkandi his oedibus, hac note, inter amicos
+      excellentissimi amici mei, Dionissii O'Shaughnessy, quem beknavavi ex
+      excellentissimo colto ejus, causa pedantissimi filii ejus, designali
+      eccleseae, patri, sed nequaquam deo, nec naturae, nec ingenio;&mdash;commando
+      te inquam, Bernarde Buie, surgere, stare, ambulare, et decedere e cornero
+      isto vel hobbo, qua nunc sedes!</i> Yes, I command thee, Brian Buie, who
+      sit upon the hob of my worthy and most excellent friend and parishioner,
+      Denis O'Shaughnessy, to rise, to stand up before your spiritual superior,
+      to walk down from it, and to tremble as if you were about to sink into the
+      earth to the neck, but no further; before the fulminations of him who can
+      wield the thunder of that mighty Salmoneus, his holiness the Pope,
+      successor to St. Peter, who left the servant of the Centurion earless&mdash;I
+      command and objurgate thee, sinner as thou art, to vacate your seat on the
+      hob for the man of sancity, whose legitimate possession it is, otherwise I
+      shall send you, like that worthy archbishop, the aforesaid Nebuchadanezar,
+      to live upon leeks for seven years in the renowned kingdom of Wales, where
+      the leeks may be seen to this day! Presto!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These words, pronounced with a grave face, in a loud, rapid, and sonorous
+      tone of voice, startled the good people of the house, who sat mute and
+      astonished at such an exordium from the worthy pastor: but no sooner had
+      he uttered Brian Buie's name, giving him, at the same time, a fierce and
+      authoritative look, than the latter started to his feet, and stepped down
+      in a kind of alarm towards the door. The priest immediately placed his
+      hand upon his shoulder in a mysterious manner, exclaiming&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be alarmed, Brian, I have taken the force of the anathema off you;
+      your power to sit or stand, or go where you please, is returned again. I
+      wanted your seat, and Denis desired, me to excommunicate you out of it,
+      which I did, and you accordingly left it without your own knowledge,
+      consent, or power; I transferred you to where you stand, and you had no
+      more strength to resist me than if you were an infant not three hours in
+      the world!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ax God's pardon, an' your Reverence's,&rdquo; said Brian, in a tremor, &ldquo;if I
+      have given offince. Now, bless my soul! what's this? As sure as I stand
+      before you, neighbors, I know neither act nor part of how I was brought
+      from the hob at all&mdash;neither act nor part! Did any of yez see me
+      lavin' it; or how did I come here&mdash;can you tell me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Paddy,&rdquo; said one of his friends, &ldquo;did you see him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The sorra one o' me seen him,&rdquo; replied Paddy: &ldquo;I was lookin' at his
+      Reverence, sthrivin' to know what he was sayin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pether, did you?&rdquo; another inquired. &ldquo;Me! I never seen a stim of him till
+      he was standin' alone on the flure! Sure, when he didn't see or find
+      himself goin', how could another see him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glory be to God!&rdquo; exclaimed Mave; &ldquo;one ought to think well what they say,
+      when they spake of the clargy, for they don't know what it may bring down
+      upon them, sooner or later!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our Denis will be able to do that yet,&rdquo; said Susan to her elder sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To be sure he will, girsha, as soon as he's ordained&mdash;every bit as
+      well as Father Finnerty,&rdquo; replied Mary.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young enthusiast's countenance brightened as her sister spoke: her
+      dark eye became for a minute or two fixed upon vacancy, during which it
+      flashed several times; until, as the images of her brother's future glory
+      passed before her imagination; she became wrapt&mdash;her lip quivered&mdash;her
+      cheek flushed into a deeper color, and the tears burst in gushes from her
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The mother, who was now engaged in welcoming Father Finnerty&mdash;a duty
+      which the priest's comic miracle prevented her from performing sooner&mdash;did
+      not perceive her daughter's agitation, nor, in fact, did any one present
+      understand its cause. Whilst the priest was taking Brian Buie's seat, she
+      went once more to watch the return of Denis; and while she stood upon the
+      stile, her father, after having put up the horse, entered the house, &ldquo;to
+      keep his Reverence company.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' pray, Docthor,&rdquo; he inquired, &ldquo;where is Father Molony, that he's not
+      wid you? I hope he won't disappoint us; he's a mighty pleasant gintleman
+      of an evenin', an', barrin' your Reverence, I don't know a man tells a
+      better story.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He entreated permission from me this morning,&rdquo; replied Father Finnerty,
+      &ldquo;and that was leave to pay a visit to the Bishop, for what purpose I know
+      not, unless to put in a word in season for the first parish that becomes
+      vacant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Throth, an' he well desarves a parish,&rdquo; replied Denis; &ldquo;an' although we'd
+      be loath to part wid him, still we'd be proud to hear of his promotion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'll meet Denis there,&rdquo; observed Susan, who had returned from the stile:
+      &ldquo;he'll be apt to be present at his trial wid the Bishop; an' maybe he'll
+      be home along wid him. I'll go an' thry if I can see them agin;&rdquo; and she
+      flew out once more to watch their return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Father Finnerty,&rdquo; said an uncle of Denis's, &ldquo;you can give a good
+      guess at what a dacent parish ought to be worth to a parish priest?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. O'Shaughnessy,&rdquo; said the priest, &ldquo;is that fat brown goose suspended
+      before the fire, of your own rearing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed it is, plase your Reverence; but as far as good male an phaties
+      could go for the last month, it got the benefit of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And pray, Mrs. O'Shaughnessy, have you many of the same kidney? I only
+      ask for information, as I said to Peery Hacket's wife, the last day I held
+      the Station in Peery's. There was just such another goose hanging before
+      the fire; but, you must know, the cream of the joke was, that I had been
+      after coming from the confessional, as hungry as a man could conveniently
+      wish himself; and seeing the brown fat goose before the fire just as that
+      is, why my teeth, Mave, began to get lachrymose. Upon my Priesthood it was
+      such a goose as a priest's corpse might get up on its elbow to look at,
+      and exclaim, 'avourneen machree, it's a thousand pities that I'm not
+      living to have a cut at you!'&mdash;ha, ha, ha! God be good to old Friar
+      Hennessy, I have that joke from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Well, Mrs. Hacket,' says I, as I was airing my fingers at the fire, 'I
+      dare say you haven't another goose like this about the house? Now, tell
+      me, like an honest woman, have you any of the same kidney?&mdash;I only
+      ask for information.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Hacket, however, told me she believed there might be a few of the
+      same kind straggling about the place, but said nothing further upon it,
+      until the Saturday following, when her son brings me down a pair of the
+      fattest geese I ever cut up for my Sunday's dinner. Now, Mrs.
+      O'Shaughnessy, wasn't that doing the thing dacent?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, Docthor,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;that was all right; let Mave alone,
+      an' maybe she'll be apt to find out a pair that will match Mrs. Hacket's.
+      Not that I say it, but she doesn't like to be outdone in anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Docthor, I was wishin' to know, sir,&rdquo; continued the uncle of the absent
+      candidate, &ldquo;what the value of a good parish might be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think, Mave, there's a discrepancy between the goose and the shoulder
+      of mutton. The fact is, that if it be a disputation between them, as to
+      which will be roasted first, I pronounce that the goose will have it. It's
+      now, let me see, half past four o'clock, and, in my opinion, it will take
+      a full half hour to bring up the mutton. So Mave, if you'll be guided by
+      your priest, advance the mutton towards the fire about two inches, and
+      keep the little girsha basting steadily, and then you'll be sure to have
+      it rich and juicy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Docthor, wid submission, I was wantin' to know what a good parish might
+      be&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mike Lawdher, if I don't mistake, you ought to have good grazing down in
+      your meadows at Ballinard. What will you be charging for a month or two's
+      grass for this colt I've bought from my dacent friend, Denis
+      O'Shaughnessy, here? And, Mike, be rasonable upon a poor man, for we're
+      all poor, being only tolerated by the state we live under, and ought not,
+      of course, to be hard upon one another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' what did he cost you, Docthor?&rdquo; replied Mike, answering one question
+      by another; &ldquo;what did you get for him, Denis?&rdquo; he continued, referring for
+      information to Denis, to whom, on reflection, he thought it more decorous
+      to put the question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis, however, felt the peculiar delicacy of his situation, and looked at
+      the priest, whilst the latter, under a momentary embarrassment, looked
+      significantly at Denis. His Reverence, however, was seldom at a loss.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What would you take him to be worth, Mike?&rdquo; he asked; &ldquo;remember he's but
+      badly trained, and I'm sure it will cost me both money and trouble to make
+      anything dacent out of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you got him somewhere between five and twenty and thirty guineas, I
+      would say you have good value for your money, plase your Reverence. What
+      do you say, Denis&mdash;am I near it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mike, you know as much about a horse as you do about the Pentateuch
+      or Paralipomenon. Five and twenty guineas, indeed! I hope you won't set
+      your grass as you would sell your horses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, thin, if your Reverence ped ready money for him, I maintain he was
+      as well worth twenty guineas as a thief's worth the gallows; an' you know,
+      sir, I'd be long sorry to differ wid you. Am I near it now, Docthor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis got for the horse more than that,&rdquo; said his Reverence, &ldquo;and he may
+      speak for himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thrue for you, sir,&rdquo; replied Denis; &ldquo;I surely got above twenty guineas
+      for him, an' I'm well satisfied wid the bargain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You hear that now, Mike&mdash;you hear what he says.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's no goin' beyant it,&rdquo; returned Mike; &ldquo;the proof o' the puddin' is
+      in the atin,' as we'll soon know, Mave&mdash;eh, Docthor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never knew Mave to make a bad one,&rdquo; said the priest, &ldquo;except upon the
+      day Friar Hennessy dined with me here&mdash;my curate was sick, and I had
+      to call in the Friar to assist me at confession; however, to do Mave
+      justice, it was not her fault, for the Friar drowned the pudding, which
+      was originally a good one, with a deluge of strong whiskey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'It's too gross,' said the facetious Friar, in his loud, strong voice&mdash;'it's
+      too gross, Docthor Finnerty, so let us spiritualize it, that it may be
+      Christian atin, fit for pious men to digest,' and then he came out with
+      his thundering laugh&mdash;oigh, oigh, oigh, oigh! but he had consequently
+      the most of the pudding to himself, an' indeed brought the better half of
+      it home in his saddle-bags.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faix, an' he did,&rdquo; said Mave, &ldquo;an' a fat goose that he coaxed Mary to
+      kill for him unknownst to us all, in the coorse o' the day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long is he dead, Docthor?&rdquo; said Denis; &ldquo;God rest him any way, he's
+      happy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He died in the hot summer, now nine years about June last; and talking
+      about him, reminds me of a trick he put on me about two years before his
+      death. He and I had not been on good terms for long enough before that
+      time; but as the curate I had was then sickly, and as I wouldn't be
+      allowed two, I found that it might be convenient to call in the Friar
+      occasionally, a regulation he did not at all relish, for he said he could
+      make far more by questing and poaching about among the old women of the
+      parish, with whom he was a great favorite, in consequence of the Latin
+      hymns he used to sing for them, and the great cures he used to perform&mdash;a
+      species of devotion which neither I nor my curate had time to practise.
+      So, in order to renew my intimacy, I sent him a bag of oatmeal and a
+      couple of flitches of bacon, both of which he readily accepted, and came
+      down to me on the following day to borrow three guineas. After attempting
+      to evade him&mdash;for, in fact, I had not the money to spare&mdash;he at
+      length succeeded in getting them from me, on the condition that he was to
+      give my curate's horse and mine a month's grass, by way of compensation,
+      for I knew that to expect payment from him was next to going for piety to
+      a parson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'I will,' said he, 'give your horses the run of my best field'&mdash;for
+      he held a comfortable bit of ground; 'but,' he added, 'as you have been
+      always cutting at me about my principle, I must insist, if it was only to
+      convince you of my ginerosity, that you'll lave the choosing of the month
+      to myself.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As I really wanted an assistant at the time, in consequence of my
+      curate's illness, he had me bound, in some degree, to his own will. I
+      accordingly gave him the money; but from that till the day of his death,
+      he never sent for our horses, except when there was a foot and a half of
+      snow on the ground, at which time he was certain to despatch a messenger
+      for him, 'with Father Hennessy's compliments, and he requested Doctor
+      Finnerty to send the horses to Father Hennessy's field, to ate their
+      month's grass.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But is it true, Docthor, that his face was shinin' after his death?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True enough, and to my own knowledge, long before that event.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; exclaimed Mave, &ldquo;he was a holy man afther all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Undoubtedly he was,&rdquo; said the priest; &ldquo;there are spots in the sun, Mrs.
+      O'Shaugh-nessy&mdash;we are not all immaculate. There never was one sent
+      into this world without less or more sin upon them. Even the saints
+      themselves had venial touches about them, but nothing to signify.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Docthor,&rdquo; said the uncle, pertinaciously adhering to the original
+      question, &ldquo;you have an opportunity of knowin' what a good parish might be
+      worth to a smart, active priest? For the sake of a son of mine that I've
+      some notion of&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the by, I wonder Denis is not here before now,&rdquo; exclaimed his
+      Reverence, lending a deaf ear to Mike O'Shaughnessy's interrogatory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Denis's favorite topic had been started, and he accordingly launched
+      out upon it with all the delight and ardor of a fond father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Docthor dear, before us all&mdash;an' sure you know as well as I do,
+      that we're all friends together&mdash;what's your downright opinion of
+      Denis? Is he as bright as you tould me the other mornin' he was?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really, Denis O'Shaughnessy,&rdquo; replied his Reverence, &ldquo;it's not pleasant
+      to me to be pressed so often to eulogize a young gintleman of whose
+      talents I have so frequently expressed my opinion. Is not once sufficient
+      for me to say what I've said concerning him? But, as we are all present, I
+      now say and declare, that my opinion of Denis O'Shaughnessy, jun., is
+      decidedly <i>peculiar</i>&mdash;decidedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, girsha, keep basting the mutton, and never heed my boots&mdash;turn
+      it about and baste the back of it better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God be thanked,&rdquo; exclaimed the delighted father, &ldquo;sure it's comfort to
+      hear that, any how&mdash;afther all the pains and throuble we've taken wid
+      him, to know it's not lost. Why, that boy was so smart, Docthor, that, may
+      I never sin, when he went first to the Latin, but&mdash;an' this no lie,
+      for I have it from his own lips&mdash;when he'd look upon his task two or
+      three times over night, he'd waken wid every word of it, pat off the book
+      the next mornin'. And how do you think he got it? Why, the crathur, you
+      see, used to dhrame that he was readin' it off, and so he used to get it
+      that way in his sleep!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment Darby Moran, Denis's old foe entered, and his reception was
+      cordial, and, if the truth were known, almost magnanimous on the part of
+      Denis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Darby Moran,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;not a man, barrin' his Reverence here, in the
+      parish we sit in, that I'm prouder to see on my flure&mdash;give me your
+      hand, man alive, and Mave and all of ye welcome him. Everything of what
+      you know is buried between us, and you're bound to welcome him, if it was
+      only in regard of the handsome way he spoke of our son this day&mdash;here's
+      my own chair, Darby, and sit down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Throth,&rdquo; said Darby, after shaking hands with the priest and greeting the
+      rest of the company, &ldquo;the same boy no one could spake ill of; and,
+      although we and his people were not upon the best footin', still the sarra
+      one o' me but always gave him his due.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, I believe you, Darby,&rdquo; said his father; &ldquo;but are you comfortable?
+      Draw your chair nearer the fire&mdash;the evenin's gettin' cowld.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm very well, Denis, I thank you;&mdash;nearer the fire! Faix, except
+      you want to have me roasted along wid that shoulder of mutton and goose, I
+      think I can't go much nearer it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sorry, you wasn't in sooner, Darby, till you'd hear what Docthor
+      Finnerty here&mdash;God spare him long among us&mdash;said of Denis a
+      while ago. Docthor, if it wouldn't be makin' too free, maybe you'd oblage
+      me wid repatin' it over again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can never have any hesitation,&rdquo; replied the priest, &ldquo;in repeating
+      anything to his advantage&mdash;I stated, Darby, that young Misther
+      O'Shaughnessy was a youth of whom my opinion was decidedly <i>peculiar</i>&mdash;keep
+      basting; child, you're forgetting the goose now; did you never see a
+      priest's boots before?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' nobody has a better right to know nor yourself, wherever larnin' and
+      education's consarned,&rdquo; said the father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it's not long since I examined him myself; I say it sitting here,
+      and I believe every one that hears me is present; and during the course of
+      the examination I was really astonished. The translations, and
+      derivations, and conjugations, and ratiocinations, and variations, and
+      investigations that he gave, were all the most remarkably original I ever
+      heard. He would not be contented with the common sense of a passage; but
+      he'd keep hunting, and hawking, and fishing about for something that was
+      out of the ordinary course of reading, that I was truly struck with his
+      eccentric turn of genius.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You think he'll pass the Bishop with great credit, Docthor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll tell you what I think, Denis&mdash;which is going further than I
+      went yet&mdash;I think that if he were the Bishop, and the Bishop the
+      candidate for Maynooth, that his lordship would have but a poor chance of
+      passing. There's the pinnacle of my eulogium upon him; and now, to give my
+      opinion on another important subject; I pronounce both the goose and
+      mutton done to a turn. As it appears that Mrs. O'Shaughnessy has every
+      other portion of the dinner ready, I move that we commence operations as
+      soon as possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Denis, Docthor? it would be a pleasure to me to have him, poor
+      fellow, wid all his throuble over, and his mind at ase; maybe if we wait a
+      weeshy while longer, Docthor, that he'll come, and you know Father Molony
+      too is to come yet, and some more of our friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If the examination was a long one, I tell you that Mr. O'Shaughnessy may
+      not be here this hour to come; and you may be sure, the Bishop, meeting
+      such a bright boy, wouldn't make it a short one. As for Father Molony,
+      he'll be here time enough, so I move again that we attack the citadel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, never say it again&mdash;the sarra one o' me will keep it
+      back, myself bein' as ripe as any of you, barrin' his Reverence, that
+      we're not to take the foreway of in anything. Ha! ha! ha!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst Mave and her daughters were engaged in laying dinner, and in making
+      all the other arrangements necessary for their comfort, the priest took
+      Denis aside, and thus addressed him:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis, I need scarcely remark that this meeting of our friends is upon no
+      common occasion; that it's neither a wedding, nor a Station, nor a
+      christening, but a gathering of relations for a more honorable purpose
+      than any of them, excepting the Station, which you know is a religious
+      rite. I just mention this privately, lest you might not be properly on
+      your guard, and to prevent any appearance of maneness; or&mdash;in short,
+      I hope you have abundance of everything; I hope you have, and that, not
+      for your own sake so much as for that of your son. Remember your boy, and
+      what he's designed for, and don't let the dinner or its concomitants be
+      discreditable to him; for, in fact, it's his dinner, observe, and not
+      yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm thankful, I'm deeply thankful, an' for ever oblaged to your Reverence
+      for your kindness; although, widout at all makin' little of it, it wasn't
+      wanted here; never fear, Docthor, there'll be lashings and lavins.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, but make that clear, Denis; here now are near two dozen of us, and
+      you say there are more to come, and all the provision I see for them is a
+      shoulder of mutton, a goose, and something in that large pot on the fire,
+      which I suppose is hung beef.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thrue for you, sir, but you don't know that we've got a tarin' fire down
+      in the barn, where there's two geese more and two shouldhers of mutton to
+      help what you seen&mdash;not to mintion a great big puddin', an' lots of
+      other things. Sure you might notice Mave and the girls runnin' in an' out
+      to attind the cookin' of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enough, Denis, that's sufficient; and now, between you and me, I say your
+      son will be the load-star of Maynooth, winch out-tops anything I said of
+      him yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's a whole keg of whiskey, Docthor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see nothing, to prevent him from being a bishop; indeed, it's almost
+      certain, for he can't be kept back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I only hope your Reverence will be livin' when he praches his first
+      sarmon. I have the dam of the coult still, an a wink's as good as a nod,
+      please your Reverence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A strong letter in his favor to the President of Maynooth will do him no
+      harm,&rdquo; said the priest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They then joined their other friends, and in a few minutes an excellent
+      dinner, plain and abundant, was spread out upon the table. It consisted of
+      the usual materials which constitute an Irish feast in the house of a
+      wealthy farmer, whose pride it is to compel every guest to eat so long as
+      he can swallow a morsel. There were geese and fowl of all kinds&mdash;shoulders
+      of mutton, laughing-potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and cabbage, together
+      with an immense pudding, boiled in a clean sheet, and ingeniously kept
+      together with long straws* drawn through it in all directions. A lord or
+      duke might be senseless enough to look upon such a substantial,
+      yeoman-like meal with a sneer; but with all their wealth and elegance,
+      perhaps they might envy the health and appetite of those who partook of
+      it. When Father Finnerty had given a short grace, and the operations of
+      the table were commenced,&mdash;Denis looked around him with a
+      disappointed air, and exclaimed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father Finnerty, there's only one thing, indeed I may say two, a wantin'
+      to complate our happiness&mdash;I mean Denis and Father Molony! What on
+      earth does your Reverence think can keep them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     * This, about thirty years ago, was usual at weddings
+     and other feasts, where everything went upon a large
+     scale.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      To this he received not a syllable of reply, nor did he consider it
+      necessary to urge the question any further at present. Father Finnerty's
+      powers of conversation seemed to have abandoned him; for, although there
+      were some few expressions loosely dropped, yet the worthy priest
+      maintained an obstinate silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length, in due time, he began to let fall an occasional remark, impeded
+      considerably by hiccups, and an odd <i>Deo Gratias</i>, or <i>Laus Deo</i>,
+      uttered in that indecisive manner which indicates the position of a man
+      who debates within himself whether he ought to rest satisfied or not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment the tramping of a horse was heard approaching the door, and
+      immediately every one of Denis's family ran out to ascertain whether it
+      was the young candidate. Loud and clamorous was their joy on finding that
+      they were not mistaken; he was alone, and, on arriving at the door,
+      dismounted slowly, and received their welcomes and congratulations with a
+      philosophy which perplexed them not a little. The scene of confusion which
+      followed his entrance into the house could scarcely be conceived: every
+      hand was thrust out to welcome him, and every tongue loud in wishing him
+      joy and happiness. The chairs and stools were overturned as they stood in
+      the way of those who wished to approach him; plates fell in the bustle,
+      and wooden trenchers trundled along the ground; the dogs, on mingling with
+      the crowd that surrounded him, were kicked angrily from among them by
+      those who had not yet got shaking hands with Denis. Father Finnerty,
+      during this commotion, kept his seat in the most dignified manner; but the
+      moment it had subsided he stretched out his hand to Denis, exclaiming:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. O'Shaughnessy, I congratulate you upon the event of this auspicious
+      day! I wish you joy and happiness!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So do we all, over and over agin!&rdquo; they exclaimed; &ldquo;a proud gintleman he
+      may be this night!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, Father Finnerty,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;and I thank you all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis, avourneen,&rdquo; said his mother, &ldquo;sit down an' ate a hearty dinner;
+      you must be both tired and hungry, so sit down, avick, and when you're
+      done you can tell us all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Bonum concilium, mi chare Dionysi</i>&mdash;the advice is good, Mrs.
+      O'Shaughnessy, and I myself will, in honor of this day, although I have
+      already dined, just take another slice;&rdquo; and as he spoke he helped
+      himself. &ldquo;Anything to honor a friend,&rdquo; he continued; &ldquo;but, by the by,
+      before I commence, I will try your own prescription, Denis&mdash;a whetter
+      of this poteen at intervals. Hoch, that's glorious stuff&mdash;pure as any
+      one of the cardinal virtues, and strong as fortitude, which is the
+      champion of them all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis, during these pleasant observations of the priest, sat silent, with
+      a countenance pale and apparently dejected. When his mother had filled his
+      plate, he gently put it away from him; but poured out a little spirits and
+      water, which he drank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot eat a morsel,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;mother, don't press me, it's
+      impossible. We are all assembled here&mdash;friends, neighbors, and
+      relations&mdash;I'll not disguise the fact&mdash;but the truth is, I have
+      been badly treated this day; I have been, in the most barefaced manner,
+      rejected by the Bishop, and a nephew of Father Molony's elected in my
+      place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The effect which this disclosure produced upon the company present,
+      especially upon his own family, utterly defies description. His father
+      hastily laid down his glass, and his eyes opened to the utmost stretch of
+      their lids; his mother let a plate fall which she was in the act of
+      handing to one of her daughters, who was about to help a poor beggar at
+      the door; all convivial enjoyment was suspended; the priest laid down his
+      knife and fork, and fixed his large eyes upon Denis, with his mouth full;
+      his young sister, Susan, flew over to his side, and looked intensely into
+      his countenance for an explanation of what he meant, for she had not
+      properly understood him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rejected!&rdquo; exclaimed the priest&mdash;&ldquo;rejected! Young man, I am your
+      spiritual superior, and I command you, on this occasion, to practise no
+      jocularity whatsoever&mdash;I lay it upon you as a religious duty to be
+      serious and candid, to speak truth, and inform us at once whether what you
+      have advanced be true or not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;that it was only jocularity on my part; but I
+      solemnly assure you all that it is not. The Bishop told me that I suffered
+      myself to be misled as to my qualifications for entrance; he says it will
+      take a year and a half's hard study to enable me to matriculate with a
+      good grace. I told him that your Reverence examined me, and said I was
+      well prepared; and he said to me, in reply, that your Reverence was very
+      little of a judge as to my fitness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said the priest, &ldquo;I thank his lordship; 'tis true, I deserved
+      that from him; but it can't be helped. I see, at all events, how the land
+      lies. Denis O'Shaughnessy, I pronounce you to be, in the first place, an
+      extremely stultified and indiscreet young man; and, in the next place, as
+      badly treated and as oppressed a candidate for Maynooth as entered it. I
+      pronounce you, in the face of the world, right well prepared for it; but I
+      see now who is the spy of the diocese&mdash;oh, oh, thank you, Misther
+      Molony&mdash;I now remimber, that he is related to his lordship through
+      the beggarly clan of the M&mdash;&mdash;'s. But wait a little; if I have
+      failed here, thank Heaven I have interest in the next diocese, the Bishop
+      of which is my cousin, and we will yet have a tug for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mother and sisters of Denis were now drowned in tears; and the grief
+      of his sister Susan was absolutely hysterical. Old Denis's brow became
+      pale and sorrowful, his eye sunk, and his hand trembled. His friends all
+      partook of this serious disappointment, and sat in silence and
+      embarrassment around the table. Young Denis's distress was truly intense:
+      he could not eat a morsel; his voice was tremulous with vexation; and,
+      indeed, altogether the aspect of those present betokened the occurrence of
+      some grievous affliction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Brian, Denis's elder brother, &ldquo;I only say this, that it's a
+      good story for him to tell that he is a Bishop, otherwise I'd think no
+      more of puttin' a bullet through him from behind a hedge, than I would of
+      shootin' a cur dog.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't say that, Brian,&rdquo; said his mother; &ldquo;bad as it is, he's one of our
+      clargy, so don't spake disrespectful of him; sure a year is not much to
+      wait, an' the next time you go before him it won't be in his power to keep
+      you back. As for Father Molony, we wish, him well, but undher the roof of
+      this house, except at a Station, or something else of the kind, he will
+      never sit, barrin' I thought it was either dhry or hungry, that I wouldn't
+      bring evil upon my substance by refusin' him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that was his lordship's character of me?&rdquo; inquired the priest once
+      more with chagrin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If that was not, perhaps you will find it in this letter,&rdquo; replied Denis,
+      handing him a written communication from the Bishop. Father Finnerty
+      hastily broke open the seal, and read silently as follows:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>To the Rev. Father Finnerty, peace, and benediction.</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rev. Sir,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I feel deep indignation at hearing the disclosure made to me this day by
+      the bearer, touching your negotiation with him and his family, concerning
+      a horse, as the value paid by them to you for procuring the use of my
+      influence in his favor; and I cannot sufficiently reprobate such a
+      transaction, nor find terms strong enough in which to condemn the parties
+      concerned in it. Sir, I repeat it, that such juggling is more
+      reprehensible on your part than on theirs, and that it is doubly
+      disrespectful to me, to suppose that I could be influenced by anything but
+      merit in the candidates. I desire you will wait upon me to-morrow, when I
+      hope you may be able to place the transaction in such a light as will
+      raise you once more to the estimation in which I have always held you.
+      There are three other candidates, one of whom is a relation of your
+      excellent curate's; but I have as yet made no decision, so that the
+      appointment is still open. In the meantime, I command you to send back the
+      horse to his proper owner, as soon after the receipt of this as possible,
+      for O'Shaughnessy must not be shackled by any such stipulations. I have
+      now to ask your Christian forgiveness, for having, under the influence of
+      temporary anger, spoken of you before this lad with disrespect. I hereby
+      make restitution, and beg that you will forgive me, and remember me by
+      name in your prayers, as I shall also name you in mine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am, etc.,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;+ James M.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Father Finnerty read this letter, his countenance gradually assumed
+      an expression of the most irresistible humor; nothing could be more truly
+      comic than the significant look he directed toward each individual of the
+      O'Shaughnessys, not omitting even the little boy who had basted the goose,
+      whom he patted on the head with that mechanical abstraction resulting from
+      the occurrence of something highly agreeable. The cast of his features was
+      now the more ludicrous, when contrasted with the rueful visage he
+      presented on hearing the manner in which his character had been delineated
+      by the Bishop. At length he laid himself back in his chair, and putting
+      his hands to his sides, fairly laughed out loudly for near five minutes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;Dionysius, Dionysius, but you are the simple and
+      unsophisticated youth! Oh, you <i>bocaun</i> of the wide earth, to come
+      home with a long face upon you, telling us that you were rejected, and you
+      not rejected.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not rejected!&mdash;not rejecet!&mdash;not rejeckset!&mdash;not
+      raxjaxet!&rdquo; they all exclaimed, attempting to pronounce the word as well as
+      they could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the sake of heaven above us, Docthor, don't keep us in doubt one
+      minute longer,&rdquo; said old Denis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Follow me,&rdquo; said the priest, becoming instantly grave, &ldquo;follow me,
+      Dionysius; follow me Denis More, and Brian, all follow&mdash;follow me. I
+      have news for you! My friends, we'll be back instantly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They accordingly passed into another room, where they remained in close
+      conference for about a quarter of an hour, after which they re-entered in
+      the highest spirits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;Pether, go over, <i>abouchal</i>, to Andy Bradagh's
+      for Larry Cassidy the piper&mdash;fly like a swallow, Pether, an' don't
+      come without him. Mave, achora, all's right. Susy, you darlin', dhry your
+      eyes, avourneen, all's right. Nabors, friends&mdash;fill, fill&mdash;I say
+      all's right still. My son's not disgraced, nor he won't be disgraced
+      whilst I have a house over my head, or a beast in my stable. Docthor,
+      reverend Docthor, drink; may I never sin, but you must get merry an' dance
+      a 'cut-along' wid myself, when the music comes, and you must thrip the
+      priest in his boots wid Susy here afther. Excuse me, nabors&mdash;Docthor,
+      you won't blame me, there's both joy and sorrow in these tears. I have had
+      a good family of childhre, an' a faithful wife; an' Mave, achora, although
+      time has laid his mark upon you as well as upon myself, and the locks are
+      gray that wor once as black as a raven: yet, Mave, I seen the day, an'
+      there's many livin' to prove it&mdash;ay, Mave, I seen the day when you
+      wor worth lookin' at&mdash;the wild rose of Lisbuie she was called,
+      Docthor. Well, Mave, I hope that my eyes may be closed by the hands I
+      loved an' love so well&mdash;an' that's your own, <i>agrab machree</i>,
+      an' Denis's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whisht, Denis asthore,&rdquo; said Mave, wiping her eyes, &ldquo;I hope I'll never
+      see that day. Afther seein' Denis here, what we all hope him to be, the
+      next thing I wish is, that I may never live to see my husband taken away
+      from me, acushla; no, I hope God will take me to himself before that
+      comes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There is something touching in the burst of pathetic affection which
+      springs strongly from the heart of a worthy couple, when, seated among
+      their own family, the feelings of the husband and father, the wife and
+      mother, overpower them. In this case, the feeling is always deep in
+      proportion to the strength and purity of domestic affection; still it is
+      checked by the melancholy satisfaction that our place is to be filled by
+      those who are dear to us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But now,&rdquo; said the priest, &ldquo;that the scent lies still warm, let me ask
+      you, Dionysius, how the Bishop came to understand the compactum?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I really cannot undertake to say,&rdquo; replied Denis; &ldquo;but if any man has an
+      eye like a <i>basileus</i> he has. On finding, sir, that there was some
+      defect in my responsive powers, he looked keenly at me, closing his
+      piercing-eyes a little, and inquired upon what ground I had presented
+      myself as a candidate. I would have sunk the compactum altogether, but for
+      the eye. I suspended and hesitated a little, and at length told him that
+      there was an understanding&mdash;a&mdash;a&mdash;kind of&mdash;in short,
+      he squeezed the whole secret out o' me gradationally. You know the
+      result!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Dionysius, you are yet an unfledged bird; but it matters little. All
+      will be rectified soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Arrah, Dinis,&rdquo; inquired his mother, &ldquo;was it only takin' a rise out of us
+      you wor all the time? Throth, myself's not the betther of the fright you
+      put me into.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Denis, &ldquo;the Bishop treated me harshly, I thought: he said I
+      was not properly fit. 'You might pass,' said he, 'upon a particular
+      occasion, or under peculiar circumstances; but it will take at least a
+      year and a half's study to enable you to enter Maynooth as I would wish
+      you. You may go home again,' said he; 'at present I have dismissed the
+      subject.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After this, on meeting Father Molony, he told me that his cousin had
+      passed, and that he would be soon sent up to Maynooth: so I concluded all
+      hope was over with me; but I didn't then know what the letter to Father
+      Finnerty contained. I now see that I may succeed still.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may and shall, Denis; but no thanks to Father Molony for that:
+      however, I shall keep my eye upon the same curate, never fear. Well, let
+      that pass, and now for harmony, conviviality, and friendship. Gentlemen,
+      fill your glasses&mdash;I mean your respective vessels. Come, Denis More,
+      let that porringer of yours be a brimmer. Ned Hanratty, charge your
+      noggin. Darby, although your mug wants an ear, it can hold the full of it.
+      Mrs. O'Shaughnessy, that old family cruiskeen ought to be with your
+      husband: but no matther&mdash;<i>non constat</i>&mdash;Eh? Dionysi?
+      Intelligible?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Intelligo, domine</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here then is health, success, and prosperity to Mr. Dionysius
+      O'Shaughnessy, jun.! May he soon be on the Retreat in the vivacious walls
+      of that learned and sprightly seminary, Maynooth! * On the Retreat, I say,
+      getting fat upon half a meal a day for the first week, fasting tightly
+      against the grain, praying sincerely for a settin' at the king's mutton,
+      and repenting thoroughly of his penitence!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     * This is a passage which I fear few general readers
+     will understand without explanation; the meaning is
+     this:&mdash;When a young-man first enters Maynooth College
+     he devotes himself for the space of eight days to
+     fasting and prayer, separating himself as much as
+     possible from all society. He must review his whole
+     life, and ascertain, it he can, whether he has ever
+     left any sin of importance unconfessed, either
+     knowingly or by an emission that was culpably
+     negligent. After this examination, which must be both
+     severe and strict, he makes what is called a General
+     Confession; that is, he confesses all the sins he ever
+     committed as far back and as accurately as he can
+     recollect them. This being over, he enters upon his
+     allotted duties as a student and in good sooth feels
+     himself in admirable trim for &ldquo;a set-in at the King's
+     Mutton.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Docthor, that is a toast. Denis, have you nothing to say to that?
+      Won't you stand up an' thank his Reverence, anyhow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am really too much oppressed with relaxation,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;to return
+      thanks in that florid style which would become my pretensions. I cannot,
+      however, but thank Father Finnerty for his ingenious and learned toast,
+      which does equal honor to his head and heart, and I might superadd, to his
+      intellects also; for in drinking toasts, my friends, I always elaborate a
+      distinction between strength of head and strength of intellect. I now
+      thank you all for having in so liberal a manner drunk my health; and in
+      grateful return, I request you will once more fill your utensils, and
+      learnedly drink&mdash;long life and a mitre to the Reverend Father
+      Finnerty, of the Society of St. Dominick, Doctor of Divinity and Parochial
+      Priest of this excellent parish!&mdash;<i>Propino tibi salutem, Doctor
+      doctissime, reverendissime, et sanctissime; nec non omnibus amicis hic
+      congregatis!</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The priest's eye, during this speech, twinkled with humor; he saw clearly
+      that Denis thoroughly understood the raillery of his toast, and that the
+      compliment was well repaid. On this subject he did not wish, however, to
+      proceed further, and his object now was, that the evening should pass off
+      as agreeably as possible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Next morning Father Finnerty paid Denis a timely visit, having first, as
+      he had been directed, sent home the colt a little after day-break. They
+      then took an early breakfast, and after about half an hour's further
+      deliberation, the priest, old Denis, and his son&mdash;the last mounted
+      upon the redoubtable colt&mdash;proceeded to the Bishop's residence. His
+      lordship had nearly finished breakfast, which he took in his study; but as
+      he was engaged with his brother, the barrister, who slept at his house the
+      night before, in order to attend a public meeting on that day, he could
+      not be seen for some time after they arrived. At length they were
+      admitted. The Right Reverend Doctor was still seated at the breakfast
+      table, dressed in a morning-gown of fine black stuff, such as the brothers
+      of the Franciscan order of monks usually wear, to which order he belonged.
+      He wore black silk stockings, gold knee-buckles to his small-clothes, a
+      rich ruby ring upon his finger, and a small gold cross, net with
+      brilliants, about his neck. This last was not usually visible; but as he
+      had not yet dressed for the day, it hung over his vest. He sat, or rather
+      lolled back in a stuffed easy chair, one leg thrown indolently over the
+      other. Though not an old man, he wore powder, which gave him an air of
+      greater reverence; and as his features were sharp and intelligent, his eye
+      small but keen, and his manner altogether impressive and gentlemanly, if
+      not dignified, it was not surprising that Father Finnerty's two companions
+      felt awed and embarrassed before him. Nor was the priest himself wholly
+      free from that humbling sensation which one naturally feels when in the
+      presence of a superior mind in a superior station of life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning to your lordship!&rdquo; said the priest, &ldquo;I am exceedingly happy
+      to see you look so well. Counsellor, your most obedient; I hope, sir, you
+      are in good health!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To this both gentlemen replied in the usual commonplace terms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doctor,&rdquo; continued the priest, &ldquo;this is a worthy dacent parishioner of
+      mine, Denis O'Shaughnessy; and this is his son who has the honor to be
+      already known to your lordship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down, O'Shaughnessy,&rdquo; said the Bishop, &ldquo;take a seat, young man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I humbly thank your lordship,&rdquo; replied Denis the elder, taking a chair as
+      he spoke, and laying his hat beside him on the carpet. The son, who
+      trembled at the moment from head to foot, did not sit as he was asked, but
+      the father, after giving him a pluck, said in a whisper, &ldquo;Can't you sit,
+      when his lordship-bids you.&rdquo; He then took a seat, but appeared scarcely to
+      know whether he sat or stood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the by, Doctor, you have improved this place mightily,&rdquo; continued
+      Father Finnerty, &ldquo;since I had the pleasure of being here last. I thought I
+      saw a green-house peeping over the garden-wall.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied the Bishop, &ldquo;I am just beginning to make a collection of
+      shrubs and flowers upon a small scale. I believe you are aware that
+      tending and rearing flowers, Mr. Finnerty, is a favorite amusement with
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe I have a good right to know as much, Dr. M&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;,&rdquo;
+       replied Mr. Finnerty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I don't mistake, I sent you some specimens for your garden that were
+      not contemptible. And if I don't mistake again, I shall be able to send
+      your lordship a shrub that would take the pearl off a man's eye only to
+      look at it. And what's more, it's quite a new-comer; not two years in the
+      country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray how is it called, Mr. Finnerty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Upon my credit, Doctor, with great respect, I will tell you nothing more
+      about it at present. If you wish to see it, or to know its name, or to get
+      a slip of it, you must first come and eat a dinner with me. And,
+      Counsellor, if you, too, could appear on your own behalf, so much the
+      better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear I cannot, Mr. Finnerty, but I dare say my brother will do himself
+      the pleasure of dining with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It cannot be for at least six weeks, Mr. Finnerty,&rdquo; said the Bishop. &ldquo;You
+      forget that the confirmations begin in ten days; but I shall have the
+      pleasure of dining with you when I come to confirm in your parish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Phoo! Why, Doctor, that's a matter of course. Couldn't your lordship make
+      it convenient to come during the week, and bring the Counsellor here with
+      you? Don't say no, Counsellor; I'll have no demurring.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Finnerty,&rdquo; said the Bishop, &ldquo;it is impossible at present. My brother
+      goes to Dublin to-morrow, and I must go on the following day to attend the
+      consecration of a chapel in the metropolis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then upon my credit, your lordship will get neither the name nor
+      description of my Facia, until you earn it by eating a dinner, and
+      drinking a glass of claret with the Rev. Father Finnerty. Are those hard
+      terms, Counsellor?&mdash;Ha! ha! ha! I'm not the man to put off a thing, I
+      assure you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Finnerty,&rdquo; said the Bishop, smiling at, but not noticing the worthy
+      priest's blunder about the Fucia, &ldquo;if possible, I shall dine with you
+      soon; but at present it is out of my power to appoint a day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, Doctor, make your own time of it; and now for the purport of
+      our journey. Denis O'Shaughnessy here, my lord, is a warm, respectable
+      parishioner of mine&mdash;a man indeed for whom I have a great regard. He
+      is reported to have inherited from his worthy father, two horns filled
+      with guineas. His grandmother, as he could well inform your lordship, was
+      born with a lucky caul upon her, which caul is still in the family. Isn't
+      it so, Denis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord, in dignity, it's truth,&rdquo; replied Denis, &ldquo;and from the time it
+      came into the family they always thruv, thanks be to goodness!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The lawyer sat eyeing the priest and Denis alternately, evidently puzzled
+      to comprehend what such a remarkable introduction could lead to.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Bishop seemed not to be surprised, for his features betrayed no change
+      whatsoever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Having, therefore, had the necessary means of educating a son for the
+      church, he has accordingly prepared this young man with much anxiety and
+      expense for Maynooth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Plase your lordship,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;Docthor Finnerty is clothin' it
+      betther than I could do. My heart is fixed upon seein' him what we all
+      expect him to be, your lordship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Finnerty,&rdquo; observed the Bishop, &ldquo;you seem to be intimately acquainted
+      with O'Shaughnessy's circumstances; you appear to take a warm interest in
+      the family, particularly in the success of his son.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Undoubtedly my lord; I am particularly anxious for his success.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You received my letter yesterday?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am here to-day, my lord, in consequence of having received it. But, by
+      the by, there was, under favor, a slight misconception on the part of your&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What misconception, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, my lord&mdash;Counsellor, this is a&mdash;a&mdash;kind of charge his
+      lordship is bringing against me, under a slight misconception. My lord,
+      the fact is, that I didn't see what ecclesiastical right I had to prevent
+      Denis here from disposing of his own property to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I expect an apology from you, Mr. Finnerty, but neither a defence nor a
+      justification. An attempt at either will not advance the interests of your
+      young friend, believe me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I have only to say that the wish expressed in your lordship's letter
+      has been complied with. But wait awhile, my lord,&rdquo; continued the priest,
+      good-humoredly, &ldquo;I shall soon turn the tables on yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is that, pray?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, my lord, the horse is in your stable, and Denis declares he will not
+      take him out of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not the slightest objection to that,&rdquo; replied the Bishop, &ldquo;upon
+      the express condition that his son shall never enter Maynooth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For my part,&rdquo; observed Mr. Finnerty, &ldquo;I leave the matter now between your
+      lordship and O'Shaughnessy himself. You may act as you please, Doctor, and
+      so may he.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Finnerty, if I could suppose for a moment that the suggestion of thus
+      influencing me originated with you, I would instantly deprive you of your
+      parish, and make you assistant to your excellent curate, for whom I
+      entertain a sincere regard. I have already expressed my opinion of the
+      transaction alluded to in my letter. You have frequently offended me, Mr.
+      Finnerty, by presuming too far upon my good temper, and by relying
+      probably upon your own jocular disposition. Take care, sir, that you don't
+      break down in some of your best jokes. I fear that under the guise of
+      humor, you frequently avail yourself of the weakness, or ignorance, or
+      simplicity of your parishioners. I hope, Mr. Finnerty, that while you
+      laugh at the jest, they don't pay for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The priest here caught the Counsellor's eye, and gave him a dry wink, not
+      unperceived, however, by the Bishop, who could scarcely repress a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You should have known me better, Mr. Finnerty, than to suppose that any
+      motive could influence me in deciding upon the claims of candidates for
+      Maynooth, besides their own moral character and literary acquirements. So
+      long as I live, this, and this alone, shall be the rule of my conduct,
+      touching persons in the circumstances of young O'Shaughnessy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My gracious lord,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;don't be angry wid Mr. Finnerty. I'll
+      bear it all, for it was my fau't. The horse is mine, and say what you
+      will, out of your stable I'll never bring him. I think, wid great
+      sibmission a man may do what he pleases wid his own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; said the Bishop; &ldquo;my consent to permit your son to goto
+      Maynooth is my own. Now this consent I will not give if you press that
+      mode of argument upon me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My Reverend Lord, as heaven's above me, I'd give all I'm worth to see the
+      boy in Maynooth. If he doesn't go afther all our hopes, I'd break my
+      heart.&rdquo; He was so deeply affected that the large tears rolled down his
+      cheeks as he spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will your Lordship buy the horse?&rdquo; he added; &ldquo;I don't want him, and you,
+      maybe, do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not want him,&rdquo; said the Bishop, &ldquo;and if I did, I would not, under
+      the present circumstances, purchase him from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then my boy won't get in, your lordship. And you'll neither buy the
+      horse, nor take him as a present. My curse upon him for a horse! The first
+      thing I'll do when I get home will be to put a bullet through him, for he
+      has been an unlucky thief to us. Is my son aquil to the others, that came
+      to pass your lordship?&rdquo; asked Denis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is none of them properly qualified,&rdquo; said the Bishop. &ldquo;If there be
+      any superiority among them your son has it. He is not without natural
+      talent, Mr. Finnerty; his translations are strong and fluent, but
+      ridiculously pedantic. That, however, is perhaps less his fault than the
+      fault of those who instructed him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you anxious to dispose of the horse?&rdquo; said the Counsellor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A single day, sir, he'll never pass in my stable,&rdquo; said Denis; &ldquo;he has
+      been an unlucky baste to me an' mine, an' to all that had anything to do
+      wid him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray what age is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Risin' four, sir; 'deed I believe he's four all out, an' a purty devil's
+      clip he is, as you'd wish to see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; said the Counsellor, rising, &ldquo;let us have a look at him. Mr.
+      Finnerty, you're an excellent judge; will you favor me with your opinion?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The priest and he, accompanied by the two O'Shaughnessys, passed out to
+      the stable yard, where their horses stood. As they went, Father Finnerty
+      whispered to O'Shaughnessy:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Denis, is your time. Strike while the iron is hot. Don't take a
+      penny!&mdash;don't take a fraction! Get into a passion, and swear you'll
+      shoot him unless he accepts him as a present. If he does, all's right; he
+      can twine the Bishop round his finger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see, sir,&rdquo; said Denis; &ldquo;I see! Let me alone for managin' him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The barrister was already engaged in examining the horse's mouth, as is
+      usual, when the priest accosted him with&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are transgressing etiquette in this instance, Counsellor. You know
+      the proverb&mdash;never look a gift horse in the mouth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How, Mr. Finnerty?&mdash;a gift horse!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His Reverence is right!&rdquo; exclaimed Denis: &ldquo;the sorra penny ever will
+      cross my pocket for the same horse. You must take him as he stands, sir,
+      barrin' the bridle an' saddle, that's not my own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will take no money,&rdquo; said the priest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense, my dear sir! Why not take a fair price for him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Divil the penny will cross my pocket for him, the unlucky thief!&rdquo; replied
+      the shrewd farmer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then in that case the negotiation is ended,&rdquo; replied the barrister. &ldquo;I
+      certainly will not accept him as a present. Why should I? What claim have
+      I on Mr. O'Shaughnessy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't want you to take him,&rdquo; said Denis; &ldquo;I want nobody to take him:
+      but I know the dogs of the parish 'll be pickin' his bones afore night.
+      You may as well have him, sir, as not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is the man serious, Mr. Finnerty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never saw a man in my life having a more serious appearance, I assure
+      you,&rdquo; said the priest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By Jove, it's a queer business,&rdquo; replied the other: &ldquo;a most extraordinary
+      affair as I ever witnessed! Why, it would be madness to destroy such a
+      fine animal as that! The horse is an excellent one! However, I shall
+      certainly not accept him, until I ascertain whether I can prevail upon the
+      bishop to elect his son to this vacancy. If I can make the man no return
+      for him, I shall let him go to the dogs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go up and set to work,&rdquo; said the priest; &ldquo;but remember that <i>tace</i>
+      is Latin for a candle. Keep his lordship in the dark, otherwise this scion
+      is ousted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True,&rdquo; said the other. &ldquo;In the meantime bring them into the parlor until
+      I try what can be done.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take the Bishop upon the father's affection for him,&rdquo; said the priest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right. I am glad you mentioned it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The poor man will break his heart,&rdquo; said the priest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will,&rdquo; responded the Counsellor smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So will the mother, too,&rdquo; said the priest, with an arch look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the whole family,&rdquo; replied the Counsellor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go up instantly,&rdquo; said the priest; &ldquo;you have often got a worse fee.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And, perhaps, with less prospect of success,&rdquo; said the other. &ldquo;Gentlemen,
+      have the goodness to walk into the parlor for a few minutes, while I
+      endeavor to soften my brother a little, if I can, upon this untoward
+      business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When the priest and his two friends entered the parlor, which was
+      elegantly furnished, they stood for a moment to survey it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Denis, however, was too much engaged in the subject which lay nearest
+      his heart to take pleasure in anything else; at least until he should hear
+      the priest's opinion upon the posture of affairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does your reverence think?&rdquo; said Denis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Behave yourself,&rdquo; replied the pastor. &ldquo;None of your nonsense! You know
+      what I think as well as I do myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But will Dionnisis pass?&mdash;Will he go to Maynooth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you go to your dinner to-day, or to your bed to-night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God be praised! Well, Docthor, wait till we see him off, then I'll be
+      spakin' to you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said the priest; &ldquo;but wait till you tike a toss upon this sofa, and
+      then you will get a taste of ecclesiastical luxury.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;but would it be right o' me to sit in it? Maybe it's
+      consecrated.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faith, you may swear that; but it is to the ease and comfort of his
+      lordship! Come, man, sit down, till you see how you'll sink in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, murdher!&rdquo; exclaimed Denis, &ldquo;where am I at all? Docthor dear, am I in
+      sight? Do you see the crown o' my head, good or bad? Oh, may I never sin,
+      but that's great state!&mdash;Well, to be sure!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; said the priest, &ldquo;see what it is to be a bishop in any church! The
+      moment a man becomes a bishop, he fastens tooth and nail upon luxury, as
+      if a mitre was a dispensation for enjoying the world that they have sworn
+      to renounce. Dionysius, look about you! Isn't this worth studying for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied the hitherto silent candidate, &ldquo;if it was perusal on the
+      part of his lordship that got it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Upon my credit, a shrewd observation! Ah, Dionysius, merit is overlooked
+      in every church, and in every profession; or perhaps&mdash;hem!&mdash;ehem!&mdash;perhaps
+      some of your reverend friends might be higher up! I mean nobody; but if
+      sound learning, and wit, and humor, together with several other virtues
+      which I decline enumerating, could secure a mitre, why mitres might be on
+      other brows.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is surely great state,&rdquo; observed the candidate; &ldquo;and if it be a
+      thing that I matriculate&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; said the priest, interrupting him, &ldquo;this same bishop&mdash;who
+      is, no doubt, a worthy man, but who has no natural ear for a jest&mdash;was
+      once upon a time the priest of an indifferent good parish, like myself;
+      ay, and a poor, cowardly, culprit-looking candidate, ready to sink into
+      the earth, before his bishop, like you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me cowardly!&rdquo; said the candidate: &ldquo;I decline the insinuation altogether.
+      It was nothing but veneration and respect, which you know we should
+      entertain for all our spiritual superiors.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's truth decidedly; though, at the same time, your nerves were
+      certainly rather entangled, like a ravelled hank. But no matter, man; we
+      have all felt the same in our time. Did you observe how I managed the
+      bishop?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't say I did,&rdquo; replied the candidate, who felt hurt at the
+      imputation of cowardice before his father; &ldquo;but I saw, sir, that the
+      bishop managed you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray for a longer vision, Dionysius. I tell you that no other priest in
+      the diocese could have got both you and me out of the dilemma in which we
+      stood but myself. He has taken to the study of weeds and plants in his old
+      days; and I, who have a natural taste for botany, know it is his weak
+      side. I tell you, he would give the right of filling a vacancy in
+      Maynooth, any day in the year, for a rare plant or flower. So much for
+      your knowledge of human nature. You'll grant I managed the Counsellor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Between my father and you, sir, things look well. We have not, however,
+      got a certificate of success yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Patientia fit levior ferendo!</i>&mdash;Have patience, man. Wait till
+      we see the Counsellor!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had scarcely uttered the last words when that gentleman entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Counsellor,&rdquo; said the priest, &ldquo;is it a hit?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray what is your Christian name, Mr. O'Shaughnessy?&rdquo; inquired the lawyer
+      o! young Denis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My Christian name, sir,&rdquo; replied Denis, &ldquo;is Di-o-ny-si-us O'Shaughnessy.
+      That, sir, is the name by which I am always appellated.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's quite sufficient,&rdquo; said the other, &ldquo;I shall be with you again in a
+      few minutes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But won't you give us a hint, my good sir, as to how the land lies?&rdquo; said
+      the priest, as the lawyer left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Presently, Mr. Finnerty, presently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Intelligisme, Dionisi?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vix, Domine. Quid sentis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quid sentis! No, but it was good fortune sent us. Don't you persave,
+      Dionysius, and you, Denis&mdash;don't you know, I say, that this letter of
+      admission couldn't be written except the bishop knew his name in full?
+      Unlucky! Faith if ever a horse was lucky this is he.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I declare, Docthor,&rdquo; said the father, &ldquo;I can neither sit nor stand, nor
+      think of any one thing for a minute, I'm so much on the fidgets to know
+      what the Bishop 'ill say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I also,&rdquo; said Dionysius, &ldquo;am in state of evaporation and uncertainty
+      touching the same point. However, this I can affirm with veracity, that if
+      I am rejected, my mind is made up to pursue an antithetical course of life
+      altogether. If he rejects me now, he will never reject me again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Musha, how&mdash;Denny&mdash;Dionysis, avick? What do you mane?&rdquo; said the
+      father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will give,&rdquo; said the son, &ldquo;what is designated a loose translation of my
+      meaning to Mr. Finnerty here, if I find that I am excluded on this
+      occasion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if you do succeed,&rdquo; said the priest, &ldquo;I would advise you to hire a
+      loose translator during the remainder of your residence among us; for upon
+      my veracity, Dionysius, the King's English will perform hard duty until
+      you enter Maynooth. Not a word under six feet will be brought into the
+      ranks&mdash;grenadiers every one of them, not to mention the thumpers you
+      will coin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, Docthor Finnerty,&rdquo; said our candidate, pulling up a little, &ldquo;if the
+      base Latin which you put into circulation were compared with my English
+      thumpers, it would be found that of the two, I am more legitimate and
+      etymological.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be happy to dispute that point with you another time,&rdquo; said the
+      priest, &ldquo;when we can&mdash;Silence, here comes the Counsellor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. O'Shaughnessy,&rdquo; said the lawyer, addressing the candidate, &ldquo;allow me
+      to congratulate you on your success! Your business is accomplished. The
+      Bishop is just finishing a letter for you to the President of Maynooth. I
+      assure you, I feel great pleasure at your success.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Accept my thanks, sir,&rdquo; said Denis, whose eye was instantly lit up with
+      delight&mdash;&ldquo;accept my most obsequious thanks to the very furthest
+      extent of my gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Barrister then shook hands with old Denis. &ldquo;O'Shaughnessy,&rdquo; said he,
+      &ldquo;I am very happy that I have had it in my power to serve you and your
+      son.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Counsellor,&rdquo; said Denis, seizing his hand in both of his&mdash;&ldquo;Counsellor,
+      <i>ahagur machree</i> Counsellor, oh, what&mdash;what&mdash;can I say!&mdash;Is
+      he&mdash;is it possible&mdash;is it thruth that my boy is to go to
+      Maynewth this time? Oh, if you knew, but knew, the heavy, dead weight you
+      tuck off o' my heart! Our son not cast aside&mdash;not disgraced!&mdash;for
+      what else would the people think it? The horse!&mdash;a poor bit of a
+      coult&mdash;a poor unsignified animal! To the devil wid him. What is he
+      compared to the joy an' delight of this minute? Take him, sir; take him&mdash;an'
+      if he was worth his weight in goold, I vow to Heaven above me, I'd not
+      think him too good. Too good!&mdash;no, nor half good enough for you. God
+      remimber this to you! an' he will, too. Little you know the happiness you
+      have given us, Counsellor! Little you know it. But no matther! An' you,
+      too, Father Finnerty, helped to bring this about. But sure you were ever
+      an' always our friend! Well, no matther&mdash;no matther! God will reward
+      you both.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My brother wishes me to see Mr. Finnerty and your son,&rdquo; said the
+      barrister; &ldquo;I think they had better go up to him. He is anxious to get a
+      slip of your shrub, Mr. Finnerty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, I thought so,&rdquo; said the priest&mdash;&ldquo;I thought as much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Bishop, on their reappearance, presented Denis with the long
+      wished-for letter. He then gave him a suitable exhortation with reference
+      to the serious and responsible duties for which he was about to prejjare
+      himself. After concluding his admonition, he addressed Father Finnerty as
+      follows:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now Mr. Finnerty, this matter has ended in a manner satisfactory, not
+      only to your young friend, but to yourself. You must promise me that there
+      shall be no more horse-dealing. I do not think jockeying of that
+      description either creditable or just. I am unwilling to use harsher
+      language, but I could not conscientiously let it pass without reproof. In
+      the next place, will you let me have a slip of that flowering shrub you
+      boast of?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doctor,&rdquo; said the priest, &ldquo;is it possible you ask it of me? Why, I think
+      your lordship ought to know that it's your own, as is every plant and
+      flower in my garden that you fancy. Do you dine at home to-morrow, my
+      lord?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; said the Bishop. &ldquo;Well, then, I shall come up with a slip or two
+      of it, and dine with you. I know the situation in which it grows best; and
+      knowing this, I will put it down with my own hands. But I protest, my
+      lord, against you allowing me to be traced in the business of the shrub at
+      all, otherwise I shall have the whole county on my back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be under no apprehension of that, Mr. Finnerty. I shall be happy if you
+      dine with me; but bring it with you. How did you come to get it so early
+      after its appearance in this country?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got it from headquarters, Doctor&mdash;-from one of the best botanists
+      in the three kingdoms; certainly from the best Irish botanist living&mdash;my
+      friend, Mr Mackay, of the College Botanic Gardens. My lord, I wish you
+      good morning; but before I go, accept my thanks for your kindness to my
+      young friend. I assure you he will be a useful man; for he is even now no
+      indifferent casuist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I, my lord,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;return you my most grateful&mdash;hem&mdash;my
+      most grateful&mdash;and&mdash;most supercilious thanks for the favor&mdash;the
+      stupendous favor you have conferred upon me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless you, my dear child,&rdquo; returned the bishop; &ldquo;but if you be
+      advised by me, speak more intelligibly. Use plain words, and discard all
+      difficult and pedantic expressions. God bless you! Farewell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On coming down, they found old Denis in the stable-yard in rather a
+      ridiculous kind of harness. The saddle that had been on the colt was
+      strapped about him with the bridle, for both had been borrowed from a
+      neighbor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dionnisis an' I must both ride the same horse,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;an' as we have
+      two saddles, I must carry one of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An altercation then ensued as to which should ride foremost. The son, now
+      in high glee, insisted on the father's taking the seat of honor; but the
+      father would not hear of this. The lad was, in his opinion, at least
+      semi-clerical, and to ride behind would be a degradation to so learned a
+      youth. They mounted at length, the son foremost, and the father on the
+      crupper, the saddle strapped about him, with the stirrups dangling by the
+      horse's flanks. Father Finnerty, who accompanied them, could not, however,
+      on turning from the bishop's grounds into the highway, get a word out of
+      them. The truth is, both their hearts were full; both were, therefore,
+      silent, and thought every minute an hour until they reached home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was but natural. A man may conceal calamity or distress even from his
+      dearest friends; for who is there who wishes to be thrust back from his
+      acknowledged position in life? Or who, when he is thrust back, will not
+      veil his misfortunes or his errors with the guise of indifference or
+      simulation? In good fortune we act differently. It is a step advanced; an
+      elevation gained; there is nothing to fear, or to be ashamed of, and we
+      are strongly prompted by vanity to proclaim it to the world, as we are by
+      pride to ascribe its occurrence to our own talents or virtues. There are
+      other and purer motives for this. The affections will not be still; they
+      seek the hearts to which they tend; and having found them, the mutual
+      interchange of good takes place. Father Finnerty&mdash;whose heart, though
+      a kind one, had, probably, been too long out of practice to remember the
+      influence and working of the domestic affections&mdash;could not
+      comprehend the singular conduct of the two O'Shaughnessys.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What the devil is the matter with you?&rdquo; he inquired. &ldquo;Have you lost the
+      use of your speech?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Push an' avourneen,&rdquo; said the father to Denis&mdash;&ldquo;push an; lay the
+      spur to him. Isn't your spur on the right foot?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most certainly,&rdquo; said Denis, now as pedantic as ever&mdash;&ldquo;most
+      certainly it is. You are not to be informed that our family spur is a
+      right-foot spur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, Peter Gallagher's spur that I have an is a left-foot spur,
+      for it's an my left foot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a bright pair,&rdquo; said the priest, somewhat nettled at their
+      neglect of him&mdash;&ldquo;you are a bright pair, and deeply learned in spurs.
+      Can't you ride asier?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never heed him,&rdquo; said the father, in a whisper; &ldquo;do you, give the mare
+      the right spur, an' I'll give her the left. Push an! that's it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They accordingly dashed forwrard, Denis plying, one heel, and the father
+      another, until the priest found himself gradually falling behind. In vain
+      he plied both spurs; in vain he whipped, and wriggled on the saddle, and
+      pressed forwrard his hack. Being a priest's horse, the animal had been
+      accustomed for the last twelve years to a certain jog-trot-pace, beyond
+      which it neither would nor could go. On finding all his efforts to
+      overtake them unsuccessful, he at last shouted after them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you call that gratitude, my worthy friends? To lave me creeping over
+      the ups and downs of this villanous road without company?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lay an, aroon,&rdquo; said the father. &ldquo;Let us get home. Oh, how your poor
+      mother will die with joy, an' Susy, an' Nanny, an' Brian, an' Michael, an'
+      Dick, an' Lanty, an' all o' them. Glory be to Heaven! what a meetin' we'll
+      have! An' the nabors, too! Push an' avick machree.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My curse upon you, Friar Hennessy!&rdquo; exclaimed the priest, in a soliloquy,
+      &ldquo;it was you who first taught this four-footed snail to go like a thief to
+      the gallows. I wish to Heaven you had palmed him on some one else, for
+      many a dinner I have lost by him in my time. Is that your gratitude,
+      gentlemen? Do I deserve this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is he sayin'?&rdquo; said the father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is declaiming about gratitude,&rdquo; replied Denis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lay-an' her,&rdquo; said the father. &ldquo;Poor Mave!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Such conduct does you credit,&rdquo; shouted the priest. &ldquo;It's just the way of
+      the world. You have got what you wanted out of me, an' now you throw me
+      off. However, go on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's that?&rdquo; said the father again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is desiring us to go on,' replied the son.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, in the name o' Goodness, do so, avourneen. Susy will die
+      downright.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where am I to dine to-day?&rdquo; shouted the priest, in a louder voice. &ldquo;I
+      say, where am I to come in for my dinner, for I'm not expected at home,
+      and my curate dines out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't hear him,&rdquo; said the father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He says the curate dines out; an' he wants to know if he's to dine with
+      us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Throth, an' he won't; not that we begrudge it to him; but for this day
+      the sarra one we'll have but our own relations. Push an. An' Brian, too,
+      poor fellow, that was always so proud of you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They had now reached the top of an ascent on the road, whilst the priest
+      toiled up after them. In a few minutes they began to descend, and
+      consequently were out of his sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No description of mine could give an adequate perception to the reader of
+      what was felt by the family on hearing that the object of Denis's hopes,
+      and their own proud ambition, was at length accomplished. The Bishop's
+      letter was looked at, turned in every direction, and the seal inspected
+      with a kind of wonderful curiosity, such as a superstitious person would
+      manifest on seeing and touching some sacred relic. The period appointed
+      for his departure now depended upon the despatch with which they could
+      equip him for college. But until this event should arrive, his friends
+      lost no opportunity of having him among them. Various were the treats he
+      got in fair and markets. Proud were his relations when paying' him the
+      respect which he felt right sincere pleasure in receiving. The medium
+      between dignity and humility which he hit off in these scenes, was worthy
+      o'f being recorded; but, to do him justice, his forte lay in humility. He
+      certainly condescended with a grace, and made them feel the honor done
+      them by his vouchsafing to associate with such poor creatures as if he was
+      one of themselves. To do them also justice, they appeared to feel his
+      condescension; and, as a natural consequence, were ready to lick the very
+      dust under his feet, considering him, as they did, a priest in everything
+      but ordination.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis, besides his intercourse with humble relatives, was now asked to
+      dine with the neighboring clergymen, and frequently made one at their
+      parties. In the beginning, his high opinion and awe of the clerical
+      character kept him remarkably dull and sheepish. Many an excellent joke
+      was cracked at his expense; and often did he ask himself what Phadrick
+      Murray, his father's family, or his acquaintances in general, would say,
+      if they saw his learning and his logic so villanously degraded. In
+      proportion, however, as conviviality developed among his reverend friends
+      many defects, opinions, and failings, which he never suspected them to
+      possess, so did he begin to gather courage and facility of expression. By
+      degrees he proceeded modestly from the mild and timid effort at wit to the
+      steadier nerve of moderate confidence&mdash;another step brought him to
+      the indifference of a man who can bear an unsuccessful attempt at
+      pleasantry, without being discomposed; the third and last stage advanced
+      him to downright assurance, which having reached, he stopped at nothing.
+      From this forward he began to retort upon his clerical companions, who
+      found that the sheepish youth whom they had often made ridiculous,
+      possessed skill, when properly excited, to foil them at their own weapons.
+      He observed many things in their convivial meetings. The holy man, whom
+      his flock looked upon as a being of the highest sanctity, when lit up into
+      fun and frolic, Denis learned to estimate at his just value. He thought,
+      besides, that a person resolved to go to heaven, had as good a chance of
+      being saved by the direct mercy of God, as through the ministration of
+      men, whose only spiritual advantage over himself consisted in the mere
+      fact of being in orders. To be sure, he saw the usual exceptions among
+      them that are to be found among every other class; but he drew his
+      conclusions from the general rule. All this, however, failed in removing
+      that fundamental principle of honest superstition in which he had been
+      trained. The clergymen whom he saw were only a few who constituted the
+      great body of the church; but when the long and sanctified calendar of
+      saints and miracles opened upon him, there still remained enough to throw
+      a dim and solemn charm of shadowy pomp around the visions of a mind
+      naturally imaginative.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Messengers were once more sent abroad, to inform their friends of his
+      triumph, who, on ascertaining that his journey was fixed for an early day,
+      lost no time in pouring in, each with some gift suited to their
+      circumstances. Some of these were certainly original, the appropriateness
+      having been in every case determined by the wealth or poverty, ignorance,
+      or knowledge, of those who offered them. Some poor relation, for instance,
+      brought him a shirt or two of materials so coarse, that to wear it in a
+      college would be out of the question; others offered him a pair of
+      brogues, much too vulgar for the society he was about to enter; others,
+      again, would present him with books&mdash;for it is not at all uncommon to
+      find in many illiterate Irish families half-a-dozen old volumes of whose
+      contents they are ignorant, lying in a dusty corner, where they are kept
+      till some young scion shall be sufficiently instructed to peruse them. The
+      names of these were singular enough. One presented him with &ldquo;The Necessity
+      of Penance;&rdquo; another with &ldquo;Laugh and be Fat;&rdquo; a third with the &ldquo;Key of
+      Paradise;&rdquo; a fourth with &ldquo;Hell Open;&rdquo; a fifth handed him a copy of the
+      &ldquo;Irish Rogues and Rapparees; a sixth gave him &ldquo;Butler's Lives of Saints;&rdquo;
+       a seventh &ldquo;The Necessity of Fasting;&rdquo; an eighth &ldquo;The Epicure's <i>Vade
+      Mecum</i>.&rdquo; The list ran on very ludicrously. Among them were the &ldquo;Garden
+      of Love and Royal Flower of Fidelity;&rdquo; &ldquo;An Essay on the Virtue of
+      Celibacy;&rdquo; and another &ldquo;On the Increase of Population in Ireland.&rdquo; To
+      these we may add &ldquo;The Devil upon Two Sticks,&rdquo; and &ldquo;The Life of St.
+      Anthony.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take these, Misther Denis,&rdquo; said the worthy souls; &ldquo;they're of no use to
+      us at all at all; but they'll sarve you, of coorse, where you're goin',
+      bekase when you want books in the college you can use them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Honest Phadrick Murray, in lieu of a more valuable present, brought him
+      his wife's largest and best shawl as a pocket handkerchief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Katty, sir, sent you this,&rdquo; said Phadrick, &ldquo;as a pocket handkerchy; an'
+      be gorra, Mither Denis, if you begin at this corner, an' take it out o'
+      the face, it'll last you six months at a time, any how.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Another neighbor came with a <i>cool</i> of rendered lard, hoping it might
+      be serviceable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Norah, sir,&rdquo; said the honest friend who brought it, &ldquo;sent you a' crock of
+      her own lard. When, you're makin' colcanon, sir, or <i>sthilk</i>,* in the
+      college, if you slip in a lamp of this, it'll save you the price of
+      bufther. The grace 'ill be useful to you, whether or not; an' they say
+      there's a scarcity of it in the college.&rdquo;.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     * Sthilk is made by bruising a quantity of boiled
+     Potatoes and beans together. The potatoes, however,
+     having first been reduced to a pulpy state, the beans
+     are but partially broken. It is then put into dish, and
+     a pound of butter or rendered lard thrust into the
+     middle of it.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      A third brought him an oak sapling to keep in his hand about the purlieus
+      of the establishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We know,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;that you're given to arguin' an' to that thing you
+      call logic, Misther Denis. Now, sir, if you're ever hard set in an
+      argument or the like o' that, or if any o' the shthudjeents 'ud be
+      throuble-some or imperant, why give them a touch o' this&mdash;a lick of
+      it, do you see; jist this a way. First come wid a back sthroke upon the
+      left ear, if they want to be properly convinced; an' thin agin' afore they
+      have time to recover, come down wid a visitation upon the kidney, My life
+      for yours, they'll soon let you alone. Nothin' puzzles one in an argument
+      more than it does.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;that is what they call&mdash;in the books the <i>argumentum
+      baculinum</i>. I accept your present, Roger; but I flatter myself I shall
+      be a match for any of the collegians without having recourse to the
+      argumentum baculinum.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A poor old widow, who was distantly related to them, came upwards of four
+      miles with two or three score of eggs, together with a cock and hen; the
+      eggs for his own use, and the latter for breeding in Maynooth. &ldquo;Avourneen,
+      Misther O'Shaughnessy,&rdquo; said she, in broken English, &ldquo;when you ate out all
+      the eggs, maybe you could get a sonsy little corner about the collegian
+      that you're goin' to larn to be a priest in, an' put them both into it; &ldquo;&mdash;pointing
+      at the same time to the cock and hen&mdash;&ldquo;an' whishper,&rdquo; she continued,
+      in a low friendly voice, &ldquo;if you could get a weeshy wisp o' sthraw, an
+      slip it undher your own bed, it would make a nest for them, an' they'd lay
+      an egg for your breakfast all days in the year. But, achora, don't let
+      them be widout a nest egg; an' whishper&mdash;maybe you'd breed a clackin'
+      out o' them, that you might sell. Sure they'd help to buy duds of cloes
+      for you; or you might make presents of the crathurs to the blessed an'
+      holy collegian himself. Wouldn't it be good to have him an your side?&mdash;He'd
+      help to make a gintleman of you, any way. Faix, sure he does it for many,
+      they say. An' whishper&mdash;the breed, avourneen, is good; an' I'm not
+      afeard to say that there never was sich a chicken in the whole collegian,
+      as the ould cock himself. He's the darlin' all out, an' can crow so
+      stoutly, that it bates the world. Sure his comb's a beauty to look at, the
+      darlin'; an' only it's to yourself, an' in regard of the blessed place
+      he's goin' to, I wouldn't part wid him to nobody whatsomever, at all, good
+      or bad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The most original gift of all was a purse, formed of a small bladder,
+      ingeniously covered with silk. It was given to him by his uncle, as a
+      remembrance of him, in the first place; and secondly, for a more special
+      purpose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This will sarve you, sir,&rdquo; said his uncle, &ldquo;an' I'll tell you how: if you
+      want to smuggle in a sup of good whiskey&mdash;as of coorse you will,
+      plase goodness&mdash;why this houlds exactly a pint, an' is the very thing
+      for it. The sorra one among them will ever think of searchin' your purse,
+      at least for whiskey. Put it in your pocket, Misther Dionmsis; an' I'd
+      take it as a great kindness if you'd write me a scrape or two of the pen,
+      mentionin' what a good parish 'ud be worth: you'll soon be able to tell
+      me, for I've some notion myself of puttin' Barny to Latin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis was perfectly aware of the honest warmth of heart with which these
+      simple tokens of esteem were presented to him; and young as he was, his
+      knowledge of their habits and prejudices prevented him from disappointing
+      them by a refusal. He consequently accepted everything offered him,
+      appropriated to himself whatever was suitable to his wants, converted the
+      remainder into pocket-money, and, of course, kept his conscience void of
+      offence toward them all: a state of Christian virtue which his refusal of
+      any one gift would have rendered difficult.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the day before his departure the friends and relations of the family
+      assembled to hold their farewell meeting. The same spirit which marked all
+      their rustic symposia presided in this; if we except a feeling of sorrow
+      natural to his family on being separated from one they loved so
+      affectionately. Denis, who was never deficient in warmth of feeling, could
+      not be insensible to the love and pride with which his family had always
+      looked upon him. Ambition, as he approached it, lost much of its
+      fictitious glitter. A sense of sorrow, if not of remorse, for the
+      fastidious and overbearing spirit he had manifested to them, pressed upon
+      his heart. Pride, in fact, was expelled; nature resumed her empire over
+      him; he looked upon the last two months of his life as a man would be apt
+      to do who had been all that time under the dominion of a feverish dream.
+      We do not say, however, that either ambition or superstition was
+      thoroughly expelled from his mind; for it is hard at all times to root
+      them out of the system of man: but they ceased to govern him altogether. A
+      passion, too, as obstinate as either of them, was determined to dispute
+      their power. The domestic affections softened his heart; but love, which
+      ambition left for dead, was only stunned; it rose again, and finding a
+      favorable position, set its seal to his feelings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis himself, some days before that appointed for his departure, became
+      perfectly conscious that his affections were strongly fixed upon Susan
+      Connor. The nature of their last interview filled him with shame; nay,
+      more, it inspired him with pity for the fair, artless girl whom he had so
+      unfeelingly insulted. The manner in which he had won her young affections;
+      the many tender interviews that had passed between them; the sacred
+      promises of unchangeable love they had made to each other: all crowded to
+      his imagination with a power which reduced his spiritual ambition and
+      ecclesiastical pride, at least to the possession only of a divided empire.
+      He had, therefore, with his book in his hand as usual, taken many solitary
+      walks for the preceding few days, with the expectation of meeting Susan.
+      He heard that for the last month or six weeks she had looked ill, been in
+      low spirits, and lost her health. The cause of this change, though a
+      secret to the world, was known to him. He knew, indeed, that an interview
+      between them was indispensable; but had it not been so, we question
+      whether he would have been able to leave home without seeing her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His evening strolls, however, up until the day before his setting out for
+      college, were fruitless. Susan, who heretofore had been in the habit of
+      walking in the evenings among the green dells around her father's house,
+      was ever since their last meeting almost invisible. In the meantime, as
+      the day before that of his leaving the neighborhood had arrived, and as an
+      interview with her was, in a religious point of view, essentially
+      necessary, he took his book in the course of the evening, and by a path
+      slightly circuitous, descended the valley that ran between his father's
+      house and hers. With solemn strides he perambulated it in every direction&mdash;north,
+      south, east, and west; not a natural bower in the glen was unexplored; not
+      a green, quiet nook unsearched; not a shady tree unexam-ined; but all to
+      no purpose. Yet, although he failed in meeting herself, a thousand objects
+      brought her to his heart. Every dell, natural bower, and shady tree,
+      presented him with a history of their past affections. Here was the spot
+      where, with beating heart and crimson cheek, she had first breathed out in
+      broken music the acknowledgment of her love; there had another stolen
+      meeting, a thousand times the sweeter for being stolen, taken place. Every
+      spot, in fact, was dear to him, and every object associated itself with
+      delightful emotions that kindled new life in a spirit from which their
+      parent affections had not yet passed away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis now sought the only other place where he had any likelihood of
+      meeting her: this was at the well below her father's house. He walked down
+      along the banks of the little stream that ran past it, until he reached a
+      thorn bush that grew within a few yards of the spring. Under this he sat,
+      anxiously hoping that Susan might come to fill her evening pail, as he
+      knew she was wont to do. A thick flowery branch of the hawthorn, for it
+      was the latter end of May, hung down from the trunk, and served as a
+      screen through which he could observe her should she appear, without being
+      visible himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was now the hour of twilight; the evening was warm and balmy; the
+      whitethorn tinder which he sat, and the profusion of wild flowers that
+      spangled the bosom of the green glen, breathed their fragrance around him,
+      and steeped, the emotions and remembrances which crowded thickly on him in
+      deep and exquisite tenderness. Up in the air he heard the quavering hum of
+      the snipe, as it rose and fell in undulating motion, and the creak of the
+      rail in many directions around him. From an adjoining meadow in the
+      distance, the merry voices of the village children came upon his ear, as
+      they gathered the wild honey which dropped like dew from the soft clouds
+      upon the long grassy stalks, and meadow-sweet, on whose leaves it lay like
+      amber. He remembered when he and Susan, on meeting there for a similar
+      purpose, felt the first mysterious pleasure in being together, and the
+      unaccountable melancholy produced by separation and absence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length he heard a footstep; but he could not persuade himself that the
+      slow and lingering tread of the person approaching him was that of Susan,
+      so much did it differ from the buoyant and elastic step with which she
+      used to trip along. On looking through the branches, however, he perceived
+      her coming towards him, carrying the pitcher as usual in her hand. The
+      blood was already careering at full speed through his veins, and the
+      palpitations of his heart were loud enough to be heard by the ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Oh, beauty, beauty! <i>terrima causa belli</i>, thou dost play the devil
+      with the hearts of men! Who is there who doth not wish to look upon thee,
+      from the saint to the sinner?&mdash;None. For thee worlds have been lost;
+      nations swept off the earth; thrones overturned; and cities laid in ashes!
+      Adam, David, Marc Antony, Abelard, and Denis O'Shaughnessy, exhibit
+      histories of thy power never to be forgotten, but the greatest of these is
+      Denis O'Shaughnessy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Susan was about the middle size; her tresses, like those of the daughters
+      of her country, were a fair brown, and abundant. Her features were not
+      such, we admit, as mark regular and scientific perfection, and perhaps
+      much of their power was owing to their not being altogether symmetrical.
+      Her great charm consisted in a spirit of youthful innocence, so guileless
+      that the very light of purity and truth seemed to break in radiance from
+      her countenance. Her form was round, light, and flexible. When she smiled
+      her face seemed to lose the character of its mortality&mdash;so seraphic
+      and full of an indescribable spell were its lineaments; that is, the spell
+      was felt by its thrilling influence upon the beholder, rather than by any
+      extraordinary perception of her external beauty. The general expression of
+      her countenance, however, was that of melancholy. No person could look
+      upon her! white forehead and dark flashing eyes, without perceiving that
+      she was full of tenderness and enthusiasm; but let the light of
+      cheerfulness fall upon her face, and you wished never to see it beam with
+      any other spirit. In her met those extremes of character peculiar to her
+      country. Her laughing lips expanded with the playful delicacy of mirth, or
+      breathed forth, with untaught melody and deep pathos, her national songs
+      of sorrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little before she made her appearance, the moon had risen and softened
+      with her dewy light the calm secluded scene around them. Denis, too, had
+      an opportunity of seeing the lovely girl more distinctly. Her dress was
+      simple but becoming. Her hair, except the side ringlets that fell to
+      heighten the beauty of her neck, was bound up with a comb which Denis
+      himself had presented to her. She wore a white dimity bedgown, that sat
+      close to her well-formed person, descended below her knee, and opened
+      before; the sleeves of it did not reach the elbow, but displayed an arm
+      that could not be surpassed for whiteness and beauty. The bedgown was
+      frilled about the shoulder, which it covered, leaving the neck only, and
+      the upper part of her snowy bosom, visible. A dark ribbon, tied about her
+      waist, threw her figure into exquisite outline, and gave her that simple
+      elegance which at once bespeaks the harmony of due proportion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On reaching the well she filled her vessel, and placed it on a small mound
+      beside her; then sitting down, she mused for some time, and turning her
+      eyes towards Denis's father's sighed deeply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's the least,&rdquo; said the humble girl, &ldquo;that I may look towards the house
+      that the only one I ever loved, or ever will love, lives in. Little I
+      thought when I loved him that I was standin' between him an' God. Loved
+      him! I wish I could say it was past. I wish I could: for I am afeared that
+      till my weak heart breaks it will love him still. God pity me! It would be
+      well for me I had never seen him! But why he should go to Maynooth without
+      givin' me back my promise I cannot tell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis rose and approached her. Susan, on seeing him, started, and her
+      lover could perceive that she hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. A
+      single glance, however, convinced her that it was he; and such was the
+      guileless simplicity of her heart, joined to the force of habit, that her
+      face beamed with one of her wonted smiles at his appearance. This soon
+      passed away, and her features again resumed an expression of deep
+      melancholy. Our hero now forgot his learning; his polysyllables were laid
+      aside, and his pedantry utterly abandoned. His pride, too, was gone, and
+      the petty pomp of artificial character thing aside like an unnecessary
+      garment which only oppresses the wearer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I am sorry to see you look so pale and unhappy. I
+      deeply regret it; and I could not permit this day to pass, without seeing
+      and speaking to you. If I go to-morrow, Susan, may I now ask in what light
+      will you remember me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll remember you without anger, Denis; with sorrow will I remember you,
+      but not, as I said, in anger; though God knows, and you know, the only
+      token you lave me to remember you by is a broken heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;it was an unhappy attachment, as circumstances have
+      turned out; and I wish for both our sakes we had never loved one another.
+      For some time past my heart has been torn different ways, and, to tell you
+      the truth, I acknowledge that within the last three or four months I have
+      been little less than a villain to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You speak harshly of yourself, Denis; I hope, more so than you deserve.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Susy. With my heart fixed upon other hopes, I continued to draw your
+      affections closer and closer to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that was wrong, Denis; but you loved me long before that time, an'
+      it's not so asy a thing to draw away the heart from what we love; that is,
+      to draw it away for ever, Denis, even although greater things may rise up
+      before us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As she pronounced the last words, her voice, which she evidently strove to
+      keep firm, became unsteady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's true, Susan, I know it; but I will never forgive myself for acting
+      a double part to you and to the world. There is not a pang you suffer but
+      ought to fall as a curse upon my head, for leading you into greater
+      confidence, at a time when I was not seriously resolved to fulfil my vows
+      to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis,&rdquo; said the unsuspecting girl, &ldquo;you're imposin' on yourself&mdash;you
+      never could do so bad, so treacherous an act as that. No, you never could,
+      Denis; an', above all the world, to a heart that loved and trusted you as
+      mine did. I won't believe it, even from your own lips. You surely loved
+      me, Denis, and in that case you couldn't be desateful to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did love you; but I never loved you half so well as I ought, Susy; and
+      I never was worthy of you. Susy, I tell you&mdash;I tell you&mdash;my
+      heart is breaking for your sake. It would have been well for both of us we
+      had never seen, or known, or loved each other; for I know by my own heart
+      what you must suffer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis, don't be cast down on my account; before I ever thought of you,
+      when I was runnin' about the glens here, a lonely little orphan, I was
+      often sorry, without knowin' why. Sometimes I used to wonder at it, and
+      search my mind to find out what occasioned it: but I never could. I
+      suppose it was because I saw other girls, like myself, havin' their little
+      brothers an' sisters to play with or because I had no mother's voice to
+      call me night or mornin', or her bosom to lay my head on, if I was sick or
+      tired. I suppose it was this. Many a time, Denis, even then, I knew what
+      sorrow was, and I often thought that, come what would to others, there was
+      sorrow before me. I now find I was right; but for all that, Denis, it's
+      betther that we should give up one another in time, than be unhappy by my
+      bein' the means of turning you from the ways and duties of God.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The simple and touching picture which she drew of her orphan childhood,
+      together with the tone of resignation and sorrow which ran through all she
+      said, affected Denis deeply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;I am much changed of late. The prospect before me is
+      a dark one&mdash;a mysterious one. It is not many months since my head was
+      dizzy with the gloomy splendor which the pomps and ceremonies of the
+      Church&mdash;soon, I trust, to be restored in this country to all her
+      pride and power&mdash;presented to my imagination. But I have mingled with
+      those on whom before this&mdash;that is, during my boyhood&mdash;I looked
+      with awe, as on men who held vested in themselves some mysterious and
+      spiritual power. I have mingled with them, Susan, and I find them neither
+      better nor worse than those who still look upon them as I once did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, but, Denis, how does that bear upon your views?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It does, Susan. I said I have found them neither better nor worse than
+      their fellow-creatures; but I believe they are not so happy. I think I
+      could perceive a gloom, even in their mirth, that told of some particular
+      thought or care that haunted them like a spirit. Some of them and not a
+      few, in the moments of undisguised feeling, dissuaded me against ever
+      entering the Church.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure they're happy,&rdquo; said Susan. &ldquo;Some time ago, accordin' to your
+      own words, you thought the same; but something has turned your heart from
+      the good it was fixed upon. You're in a dangerous time, Denis; and it's
+      not to be wondhered at, if the temptations of the devil should thry you
+      now, in hopes to turn you from the service of God. This is a warnin' to
+      me, too, Denis. May Heaven above forbid that I should be made the means of
+      temptin' you from the duty that's before you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Susan, dear, it's not temptation, but the fear of temptation, that
+      prevails with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Denis, surely if you think yourself not worthy to enter that blessed
+      state, you have time enough to avoid it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, but, Susy, there is the difficulty. I am now so placed that I can
+      hardly go back. First, the disgrace of refusing to enter the Church would
+      lie upon me as if I had committed a crime. Again, I would break my
+      father's and my mother's heart: and rather than do that, I could almost
+      submit to be miserable for life. And finally, I could not live in the
+      family, nor bear the indignation of my brothers and other relations. You
+      know, Susan, as well as I do, the character attached to those who put
+      their friends to the expense of educating them for the Church, who raise
+      their hopes and their ambition, and afterwards disappoint them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This, Susan, dear, prevails with me. Besides, the Church now is likely to
+      rise from her ruins. I believe that if a priest did his duty, he might
+      possibly possess miraculous power. There is great pomp and splendor in her
+      ceremonies, a sense of high and boundless authority in her pastors; there
+      is rank in her orders sufficient even for ambition. Then the deference,
+      the awe, and the humility with which they are approached by the people&mdash;ah!
+      Susan, there is much still in the character of a priest for the human
+      heart to covet. The power of saying mass, of forgiving sin, of relieving
+      the departed spirits of the faithful in another world, and of mingling in
+      our holy sacrifices, with the glorious worship of the cherubims, or
+      angels, in heaven&mdash;all this is the privilege of a priest, and what
+      earthly rank can be compared to it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None at all, Denis&mdash;none at all. Oh, think this way still, and let
+      no earthly temptation&mdash;no&mdash;don't let&mdash;even me&mdash;what am
+      I?&mdash;a poor humble girl&mdash;oh! no, let nothing keep you back from
+      this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The tears burst from her eyes, however, as she spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Denis,&rdquo; she added, &ldquo;there is one thing that turns my brain. I fear
+      that, even afther your ordination, I couldn't look upon you as I would
+      upon another man. Oh, my heart would break if one improper thought of it
+      was fixed upon you then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susy, hear me. I could give up all, but you. I could bear to disappoint
+      father, mother, and all; but the thought of giving you up for ever is
+      terrible. I have been latterly in a kind of dream. I have been among
+      friends and relatives until my brain was turned; but now I am restored to
+      myself, and I find I cannot part with you. I would gladly do it; but I
+      cannot. Oh, no, Susan, dear, my love for you was dimmed by other passions;
+      but it was not extinguished. It now burns stronger and purer in my heart
+      than ever. It does&mdash;it does. And, Susan, I always loved you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Susan paused for some time, and unconsciously plucked a wild flower which
+      grew beside her: she surveyed it a moment, and exclaimed:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you see this flower, Denis? it's a faded primrose. I'm like that
+      flower in one sense; I'm faded; my heart's broke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my beloved Susan, don't say so; you're only low-spirited. Why should
+      your heart be broke, and you in the very bloom of youth and beauty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you remember our last meetin', Denis? Oh, how could you be so cruel
+      then as to bid me think of marryin' another, as if I had loved you for
+      anything but yourself? I'm but a simple girl, Denis, and know but little
+      of the world; but if I was to live a thousand years, you would always see
+      the sorrow that your words made me feel visible upon my countenance. I'm
+      not angry with you, Denis; but I'm telling you the truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan, my darling, this is either weakness of mind or ill health. I will
+      see you as beautiful and happy as ever. For my part, I now tell you, that
+      no power on earth can separate us! Yes, my beloved Susan, I will see you
+      as happy and happier than I have ever seen you. That will be when you are
+      my own young and guileless wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, no, Denis! My mind is made up: I can never be your wife, Do you think
+      that I would bring the anger of God upon myself, by temptin' you back from
+      the holy office you're entering into? Think of it yourself Denis. Your
+      feelings are melted now by our discoorse, and, maybe, because I'm near
+      you; but when time passes, you'll be glad that in the moment of weakness
+      you didn't give way to them. I know it's natural for you to love me now.
+      You're lavin' me&mdash;you're lavin' the place where I am&mdash;the little
+      river and the glen where we so often met, and where we often spent many a
+      happy hour together. That has an effect upon you; for why should I deny it&mdash;you
+      see it&mdash;it is hard&mdash;very hard&mdash;even upon myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She neither sobbed nor cried so as to be heard, but the tears gushed down
+      her cheeks in torrents.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan,&rdquo; said Denis, in an unsteady voice, &ldquo;you speak in vain. Every word
+      you say tells me that I cannot live without you; and I will not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't say that, Denis. Suppose we should be married, think of what I
+      would suffer if I saw you in poverty or distress, brought on because you
+      married me! Why, my heart would sink entirely under it. Then your friends
+      would never give me a warm heart. Me! they would never give yourself a,
+      warm heart; and I would rather be dead than see you brought to shame, or
+      ill-treatment, or poverty, on my account. Pray to God, Denis, to grant you
+      grace to overcome whatever you feel for me. I have prayed both for you and
+      myself. Oh, pray to him, Denis, sincerely, that he may enable you to
+      forget that such, a girl&mdash;such an unhappy girl&mdash;as Susan Connor
+      ever lived!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Poor Denis was so much overcome that he could not restrain his tears. He
+      gazed upon the melancholy countenance of the fair girl, in a delirium of
+      love and admiration; but in a few minutes he replied:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan, your words are lost: I am determined. Oh! great heavens! what a
+      treasure was I near losing! Susan, hear me: I will bear all that this
+      world can inflict; I will bear shame, ill-treatment, anger, scorn, and
+      every harsh word that may be uttered against me; I will renounce church,
+      spiritual power, rank, honor; I will give up father and family&mdash;all&mdash;all
+      that this world could flatter mo with: yes, I will renounce each and all
+      for your sake! Do not dissuade me; my mind is fixed, and no power on earth
+      can change it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Denis,&rdquo; she replied calmly, &ldquo;there is a power, and a weak power,
+      too, that will change it; for I will change it. Don't think, Denis, that
+      in arguin' with you, against the feelin's of my own heart, I am doin' it
+      without sufferin'. Oh, no, indeed! You know, Denis, I am a lonely girl;
+      that I have neither brother, nor sister, nor mother to direct me.
+      Sufferin'!&mdash;Oh, I wish you knew it! Denis, you must forget me. I'm
+      hopeless now: my, heart, as I said, is broke, and I'm strivin' to fix it
+      upon a happier world! Oh! if I had a mother or a sister, that I could,
+      when my breast is likely to burst, throw myself in their arms, and cry and
+      confess all I feel! But I'm alone, and must bear all my own sorrows. Oh,
+      Denis! I'm not without knowin' how hard the task is that I have set to
+      myself. Is it nothing to give up all that the heart is fixed upon? Is it
+      nothing to walk about this glen, and the green fields, to have one's eyes
+      upon them, and to remember what happiness one has had in them, knowin', at
+      the same time, that it's all blasted? Oh, is it nothing to look upon the
+      green earth itself,and all its beauty&mdash;to hear the happy songs and
+      the joyful voices of all that are about us&mdash;the birds singing
+      sweetly, the music of the river flowin'&mdash;to see the sun shinin', and
+      to hear the rustlin' of the trees in the warm winds of summer&mdash;to see
+      and hear all this, and to feel that a young heart is brakin', or already
+      broken within us&mdash;that we are goin' to lave it all&mdash;all we loved&mdash;and
+      to go down into the clay under us? Oh, Denis, this is hard;&mdash;bitter
+      is it to me, I confess it; for something tells me it will be my fate
+      soon!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Susan&rdquo;&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hear me out. I have now repated what I know I must suffer&mdash;what I
+      know I must lose. This is my lot, and I must bear it. Now, Denis, will you
+      grant your own Susan one request?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it was that my life should save yours, I would grant it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's the last and only one I will ever ask of you. My health has been
+      ill, Denis; my strength is gone, and I feel' I am gettin' worse every day:
+      now when you hear that I am&mdash;that I am&mdash;gone,&mdash;will you
+      offer up the first mass you say for my pace and rest in another world? I
+      say the first, for you know there's more virtue in a first mass than in
+      any other. Your Susan will be then in the dust, and you may feel sorrow,
+      but not love for her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never, Susan! For God's sake, forbear! You will drive me distracted. As I
+      hope to meet judgment, I think I never loved you till now; and by the same
+      oath, I will not change my purpose in making you mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you do love me still, Denis? And you would give up all for your
+      Susan? Answer me truly, for the ear of God is open to our words and
+      thoughts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, before God, I love you too strongly for words to express; and I
+      would and will give up all for your sake!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Susan turned her eyes upon vacancy; and Denis observed that a sudden and
+      wild light broke from them, which alarmed him exceedingly. She put her
+      open hand upon her forehead, as if she felt pain, and remained glancing
+      fearfully around her for a few minutes; her countenance, which became
+      instantly like a sheet of paper, lost all its intelligence, except,
+      perhaps, what might be gleaned from a smile of the most ghastly and
+      desolating misery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gracious heaven! Susan, dear, what's the matter? Oh, my God! your face is
+      like marble! Dearest Susan, speak to me!&mdash;Oh, speak to me, or I will
+      go distracted!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked upon him long and steadily; but he perceived with delight that
+      her consciousness was gradually returning. At length she drew a deep sigh,
+      and requested him to listen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;you must now be a man. We can never be married. I am
+      PROMISED TO ANOTHER!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Promised to another! Your brain is turned, Susy. Collect yourself,
+      dearest, and think of what you say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know what I say&mdash;I know it too well! What did I say? Why&mdash;why,&rdquo;
+       she added, with an unsettled look, &ldquo;that I'm promised to another! It is
+      true&mdash;true as God's in heaven. Oh, Denis! why did you lave me so'
+      long without seein' me? I said my heart was broke, and you will soon know
+      that it has bitter, bitter rason to be so. See here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had, during her reply, taken from her bosom a small piece of brown
+      cloth, of a square shape, marked with the letters I. M. I. the initials of
+      the names of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. She kissed it fervently as she
+      spoke, and desired Denis to look upon it and hear her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you saw me last,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;I left you in anger, because I
+      thought you no longer loved me. Many a scaldin' tear I shed that nobody
+      witnessed; many a wringin' my heart felt since that time. I got low, and,
+      as I said, my health left me. I began to think of what I ought to do; and
+      bein' so much' alone, my thoughts were never off it. At last I remembered
+      the Virgin Mother of God, as bein' once a woman, and the likelier to pity
+      one of her own kind in sorrow. I then thought of a scapular; and made a
+      promise to myself, that if you didn't come within a certain time, I would
+      dedicate myself to her for ever. I saw that you neglected me, and I heard
+      so much of the way you spent your time, how you were pleasant and merry
+      while my heart was breakin', that I made a vow to remain a spotless virgin
+      all my life. I got a scapular, too, that I might be strengthened to keep
+      my holy promise; for you didn't come to me within the time. This is it in
+      my hand. It is now on me. The VOW IS MADE AND I AM MISERABLE FOB EVER!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis sobbed and wrung his hands, whilst tears, intensely bitter, fell
+      from his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Susan!&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;what have you done? Miserable! Oh you have
+      ruined me utterly! You have rendered us both for ever miserable!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miserable!&rdquo; she exclaimed with flashing eyes. &ldquo;Who talks of misery?&rdquo; But
+      again she put her hand to her forehead, and endeavored to recollect
+      herself. &ldquo;Denis,&rdquo; she added, &ldquo;Denis, my brain is turning! Oh, I have no
+      friend! Oh, mother, that I never seen, but as if it was in a dream;
+      mother, daughter of your daughter's heart, look down from heaven, and.
+      pity your orphan child in her sore trouble and affliction! Oh, how often
+      did I miss you, mother darlin', durin' all my life! In sickness I had not
+      your tend her hands about me; in sorrow I could no' hear your voice; and
+      in joy and happiness you were never with me to share them! I had not your
+      advice, my blessed mother, to guide and direct me, to tache me what was
+      right and what was wrong! Oh, if you will not hear your own poor lonely
+      orphan, who will you hear? if you will not assist her, who ought you to
+      assist? for, as sure as I stand here this night, you are a blessed saint
+      in heaven. But let me not forget the Virgin Queen of Heaven, that I am
+      bound to. I kneel to you, Hope of the Afflicted! To you let them go that
+      have a broken heart, as I have! Queen of Glory, pity me!&mdash;Star of the
+      Sea&mdash;Comfort of the Hopeless&mdash;Refuge of Sinners, hear me,
+      strengthen and support me! And you will, too. Who did you ever cast away,
+      mild and beautiful Virgin of Heaven? As the lily among thorns, so are you
+      among the daughters of Adam!* Yes, Denis, she will support me&mdash;she
+      will support me! I feel her power on me now! I see the angels of heaven
+      about her, and her mild countenance smilin' sweetly upon the broken
+      flower! Yes, Denis, her glory is upon me!&rdquo; The last words were uttered
+      with her eyes flashing wildly as before, and her whole person and
+      countenance evidently under the influence of a highly excited enthusiasm,
+      or perhaps a touch of momentary insanity.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     * The form of the Service of the Virgin, from which
+     most of the above expressions are taken is certainly
+     replete with beauty and poetry.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Poor Denis stood with streaming eyes, incapable of checking or
+      interrupting her. He had always known that her education and understanding
+      were above the common; but he never anticipated from her such capacity for
+      deep feeling, united to so much vivacity of imagination as she then
+      displayed. Perhaps he had not philosophy enough, at that period of his
+      youth, to understand the effects of a solitary life upon a creature full
+      of imagination and sensibility. The scenery about her father's house was
+      wild, and the glens singularly beautiful; Susan lived among them alone, so
+      that she became in a manner enamored of solitude; which, probably mote
+      than anything else, gives tenderness to feeling and force to the
+      imaginative faculties. Soon after she had pronounced the last words,
+      however, her good sense came to her aid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;you have seen my weakness; but you must now see my
+      strength. You know we have a trial to go through before we part for ever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! Susy, don't say 'for ever.' You know that the vow you made was a rash
+      vow. It may be set aside.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was not a rash vow, Denis. I made it with a firm intention of keepin'
+      it, and keep it I will. The Mother of God is not to be mocked, because I
+      am weak, or choose to prefer my own will to hers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Susy, the Church can dissolve it. You know she has power to bind and
+      to loose. Oh, for God's sake, Susy, if you ever loved me, don't attempt to
+      take back your promise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love you too well to destroy you, Denis. I will never stand between you
+      and God, for that would be my crime. I will never bring disgrace, or
+      shame, or poverty, upon you; for surely these things would fall upon you
+      as a punishment for desartin' him. If you were another&mdash;if you
+      weren't intended to be the servant of God, I could beg with you&mdash;starve
+      with you&mdash;die with you. But when I am gone, remember, that I gave up
+      all my hopes, that you might succeed in yours. I'm sure that is love. Now,
+      Denis, we must return our promises, the time is passin', and we'll both be
+      missed from home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan, for the sake of my happiness, both in this world and in the next,
+      don't take away all hope. Make me not miserable and wretched; send me not
+      into the church a hypocrite. If you do, I will charge you with my guilt; I
+      will charge you with the crimes of a man who will care but little what he
+      does.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will have friends, Denis; pious men, who will direct you and guide
+      you and wean your heart from me and the world. You will soon bless me for
+      this. Denis,&rdquo; she added, with a smile of unutterable misery, &ldquo;my mind is
+      made up. I belong now to the Virgin Mother of God. I never will be so
+      wicked as to forsake her for a mortal. If I was to marry you&mdash;with a
+      broken vow upon me, I could not prosper. The curse of God and of his
+      Blessed Mother would follow us both.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis felt perfectly aware of the view entertained by Susan, respecting
+      such a vow as she had taken. To reason with her, was only to attack a
+      prejudice which scorned reason. Besides this, he was not himself
+      altogether free from the impression of its being a vow too solemn to be
+      broken without the sanction of the Church.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us go,&rdquo; said Susan, &ldquo;to the same spot where we first promised. It was
+      under this tree, in this month, last year. Let us give it back there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The hand-promise in Ireland between the marriageable young of both sexes,
+      is considered the most solemn and binding of all obligations. Few would
+      rely upon the word or oath of any man who had been known to break a
+      hand-promise. And, perhaps, few of the country girls would marry or
+      countenance the addresses of a yoking person known to have violated such a
+      pledge. The vow is a solemn one, and of course, given by mutual consent,
+      by mutual consent, also, must it be withdrawn, otherwise, it is considered
+      still binding. Whenever death removes one of the parties, without the
+      other having had an opportunity of &ldquo;giving it back,&rdquo; the surviving party
+      comes, and in the presence of witnesses first grasping the hand of the
+      deceased, repeats the form of words usual in withdrawing it. Some of these
+      scenes are very touching and impressive, particularly one which the author
+      had an opportunity of witnessing. It is supposed that in cases of death,
+      if the promise be not thus dissolved, the spirit of the departed returns
+      and haunts the survivor until it be cancelled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Denis and Susan had reached the hawthorn, they both knelt down. So
+      exhausted, however, had Susan been by the agitation of her feelings, that
+      Denis was under the necessity of assisting her to the place. He could
+      perceive, too, that, amid the workings of her religious enthusiasm, she
+      trembled like an aspen leaf.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;you are stronger than I am, begin and repeat the words;
+      I will repeat them with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Denis, &ldquo;I will never begin. I will never be the first to
+      seal both your misery and mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am scarcely able,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;dear Denis, don't ask me to do what I
+      have not strength for. But it's useless,&rdquo; she added; &ldquo;you will never begin
+      unless I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They then blessed themselves after the form of their church, and as they
+      extended their right hands to each other, the tears fell fast from the
+      eyes of both. The words they repeated were the same, with the difference
+      of the name only.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I, Susan Connor, in the presence of God, do release you, Denis
+      O'Shaughnessy, from your promise of marriage to me, and from all promises
+      of marriage that you ever made me. I now give you back that promise of
+      marriage, and all promises of marriage you ever made me. To which I call
+      God to witness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis repeated the same words, substituting the name of Susan Connor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sobs of Susan were loud and incessant, even before she had concluded
+      the words; their eyes were fixed upon each other with a hopeless and
+      agonizing expression: but no sooner were they uttered, than a strong
+      hysteric sense of suffocation rose to her throat; she panted rapidly for
+      breath; Denis opened his arms, and she fell, or rather threw herself, over
+      in a swoon upon his bosom. To press his lips to hers, and carry her to the
+      brink of the well, was but the work of a moment. There he laid her, and
+      after having sprinkled her face with water, proceeded to slap the palms of
+      her hands, exclaiming,&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan, my beloved, will you not hear me? Oh, look upon me, my heart's
+      dearest treasure, and tell me that you're living. Gracious God! her heart
+      is broken&mdash;she is dead! This&mdash;this&mdash;is the severest blow of
+      all! I have killed her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She opened her eyes as he spoke, and Denis, in stooping to assist her,
+      weeping at the same time like a child; received&mdash;a bang from a cudgel
+      that made his head ring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your sowl to the divil, you larned vagabone,&rdquo; said her father, for it was
+      he, &ldquo;is this the way you're preparin' yourself for the church? Comin' over
+      that innocent colleen of a daughter o' mine before you set out,&rdquo; he added,
+      taking Denis a second thwack across the shoulders&mdash;&ldquo;before you set
+      out for Maynewth!!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you miserable vulgarian,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;I scorn you from the head to
+      the heel. Desist, I say,&rdquo; for the father was about to lay in another
+      swinger upon his kidney&mdash;&ldquo;desist, I say, and don't approximate, or I
+      will entangle the ribs of you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My sowl to glory,&rdquo; said the father, &ldquo;if ever I had a greater mind to ate
+      my dinner, than I have to anoint you wid this cudgel, you black-coated
+      skamer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get out, you barbarian,&rdquo; replied Denis, &ldquo;how dare you talk about unction
+      in connection with a cudgel? Desist, I say, for I will retaliate, if you
+      approximate an inch. Desist, or I will baptize you in the well as Philip
+      did the Ethiopian, without a sponsor. No man but a miserable barbarian
+      would have had the vulgarity to interrupt us in the manner you did. Look
+      at your daughter's situation!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The hussy,&rdquo; replied the father, &ldquo;it's the supper she ought to have ready,
+      instead of coortin' wid sich a larned vag&mdash;&mdash;Heavens above me!
+      What ails my child? Susy! Susy, <i>alanna dhas!</i> what's over you? Oh, I
+      see how it is,&rdquo; he continued&mdash;&ldquo;I see how it is! This accounts for her
+      low spirits an' bad health for some time past! Susy, rouse yourself,
+      avourneen! Sure I'm not angry wid you! My sowl to glory, Denis
+      Shaughnessy, but you have broke my child's heart, I doubt!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Owen,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;your indecorous interruption has stamped you with the
+      signature of genuine ignorance and vulgarity; still, I say, we must have
+      some conversation on that subject immediately. Yes, I love your daughter a
+      thousand times better than nay own life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faith, I'll take care that we'll have discoorse about it,&rdquo; replied the
+      father. &ldquo;If you have been a villain to the innocent girl&mdash;if you
+      have, Denny, why you'll meet your God sooner than you think. Mark my
+      words. I have but one life, and I'll lose it for her sake, if she has come
+      to ill.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here,&rdquo;, said Denis, &ldquo;let me sprinkle her face with this cool water, that
+      we may recover her, if possible. Your anger and your outrage, Owen,
+      overcame the timid creature. Speak kindly to her, she is recovering. Thank
+      God, she is recovering.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susy, avourneen,&rdquo; said the father, &ldquo;rouse yourself,' ma colleen; rouse
+      yourself, an' don't thrimble that way. The sorra one o' me's angry wid
+      you, at all at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, bring me home,&rdquo; said the poor girl. &ldquo;Father, dear, have no bad
+      opinion of me. I done nothing, an' I hope I never will do anything, that
+      would bring the blush of shame to your face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's as true as that God's in heaven,&rdquo; observed Denis. &ldquo;The angels in
+      his presence be not purer than she is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I take her own word for it,&rdquo; said the father; &ldquo;a lie, to the best of my
+      knowledge, never came from her lips.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us assist her home,&rdquo; said Denis. &ldquo;I told you that we must have some
+      serious conversation about her. I'll take one arm, and do you take the
+      other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do so,&rdquo; said the father, &ldquo;an', Denny, as you're the youngest and the
+      strongest, jist take up that pitcher o' wather in your hand, an' carry it
+      to the house above.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis, who was dressed in his best black from top to toe, made a wry face
+      or two at this proposal. He was able, however, for Susan's sake, to
+      compromise his dignity: so looking about him, to be certain that there was
+      no other person observing them, he seized the pitcher in one hand, gave
+      Susan his arm, and in this unheroic manner assisted to conduct her home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In about half an hour or better after this, Denis and Owen Connor
+      proceeded in close and earnest conversation towards old Shaughnessy's. On
+      entering, Denis requested to speak with his father and brothers in
+      private.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;this night is pregnant&mdash;that is, <i>vulgariter</i>,
+      in the family way&mdash;with my fate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Throth, it is, avick. Glory be to Goodness!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is Owen Connor, an honest, dacent neighbor&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Throth, he is an honest, dacent man, said the lather, interrupting him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied the son, &ldquo;I agree with you. Well, he has a certain
+      disclosure or proposal to make, which you will be pleased to take into
+      your most serious consideration. I, for my part, cannot help being endowed
+      with my own gifts, and if I happen to possess a magnet to attract feminine
+      sensibility, it is to heaven I owe it, and not to myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo;&mdash;said the father, &ldquo;glory be to his name!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be alarmed, or surprised, or angry, at anything Owen Connor may say
+      to you. I speak significantly. There are perplexities in all human events,
+      and the cardinal hinge of fate is forever turning. Now I must withdraw;
+      but in, the meantime I will be found taking a serenade behind the garden,
+      if I am wanted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brian,&rdquo; said the father, &ldquo;get the bottle; we can't on this night, any
+      way, talk to Owen Connor, or to anybody else, wid dhry lips.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The bottle was accordingly got, and Owen, with no very agreeable
+      anticipations, found himself compelled to introduce a very hazardous
+      topic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis, as he said, continued to walk to and fro behind the garden. He
+      thought over the incidents of the evening, but had no hope that Owen
+      Connor's proposal would be accepted. He knew his father and family too
+      well for that. With respect to Susan's vow, he felt certain that any
+      change of opinion on her part was equally improbable. It was clear, then,
+      that he had no pretext for avoiding Maynooth; and as the shame,
+      affliction, and indignation of the family would, he knew, be terrible, he
+      resolved to conform himself to his circumstances, trusting to absence for
+      that diminution of affection which it often produces. Having settled these
+      points in his mind, he began to grope that part of his head which had come
+      in contact with Owen Connor's cudgel. He had strong surmises that a bump
+      existed, and on examining, he found that a powerful organ of self-esteem
+      had been created.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment he saw Owen Connor running past him at full speed, pursued
+      by his father and brothers, the father brandishing a cudgel in his hand.
+      The son, who understood all, intercepted the pursuers, commanding them, in
+      a loud voice to stop. With his brothers he succeeded; but the father's
+      wrath was not to be appeased so easily. Nothing now remained but to stand
+      in his way, and arrest him by friendly violence; Denis, therefore, seized
+      him, and, by assuming all his authority, at length prevailed upon him to
+      give over the chase.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only think of him,&rdquo; exclaimed the father, breathless&mdash;&ldquo;only think of
+      him havin' the assurance to propose a match between you an' his baby-faced
+      daughter! Ho! <i>Dher manhim</i>, Owen Connor,&rdquo; he shouted, shaking the
+      staff at Owen as he spoke&mdash;&ldquo;<i>Dher manhim!</i> if I was near you,
+      I'd put your bones through other, for darin' to mintion sich a thing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Owen Connor, on finding that he was na longer pursued, stood to
+      reconnoitre the enemy:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis Oge,&rdquo; he shouted back, &ldquo;be on to Maynooth as fast as possible,
+      except you wish to have my poor child left fatherless entirely. Go way,
+      an' my blessin' be along wid you; but let there be never another word
+      about that business while you live.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father,&rdquo; said Denis, &ldquo;I'm scandalized at your conduct on this dignified
+      occasion. I am also angry with Brian and the rest of you. Did you not
+      observe that the decent man was advanced in liquor? I would have told you
+      so at once, were it not that he was present while I spoke. Did I not give
+      you as strong a hint as possible? Did I not tell you that 'I spoke
+      significantly?' Now hear me. Take the first opportunity of being
+      reconciled to Owen Connor. Be civil to him; for I assure you he esteems me
+      very highly. Be also kind to his daughter, who is an excellent girl; but I
+      repeat it, her father esteems me highly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he think highly of you, Denis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have said so,&rdquo; he replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, throth, we're sorry for what has happened, poor man. But the never
+      a one o' me, Denis, saw the laste sign of liquor about him. Throth, we
+      will make it up wid him, thin. An' we'll be kind to his daughter, too,
+      Denis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then as a proof that you will follow my advice, I lay it on you as a
+      duty, to let me know how they are, whenever you write to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Throth, we will, Denis;&mdash;indeed will we. Come in now, dear; this is
+      the last night you're to be wid us, an' they're all missin! you in the
+      house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On that night no person slept in Denis O'Shaughnessy's, except our hero,
+      and his mother and sisters. As morning approached a heaviness of spirits
+      prevailed among the family, which of course was not felt by any except his
+      immediate relations. The more distant friends, who remained with them for
+      the night, sang and plied the bottle with a steadiness which prevented
+      them from feeling the want of rest. About six o'clock, breakfast was
+      ready, Denis dressed, and every arrangement made for his immediate
+      departure. His parents&mdash;his brothers, and his sisters were all in
+      tears, and he himself could master his emotions with great difficulty. At
+      length the hour to which the family of our candidate had long looked
+      forward, arrived, and Denis rose to depart for Maynooth. Except by the
+      sobs and weeping, the silence was unbroken when he stood up to bid them
+      farewell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The first he embraced was his eldest brother, Brian: &ldquo;Brian,&rdquo; said he, but
+      he could not proceed&mdash;his voice failed him: he then extended his
+      hand, but Brian clasped him in tis arms&mdash;kissed his beloved brother,
+      and wept with strong grief; even then there was not a dry eye in the
+      house. The parting with his other brothers was equally tender&mdash;they
+      wept loudly and bitterly, and Denis joined in their grief. Then came his
+      sisters, who, one by one, hung upon him, and sobbed as if he had been
+      dead. The grief of his youngest sister, Susan, was excessive. She threw
+      her arms about his neck, and said she would not let him go; Denis pressed
+      her to his heart, and the grief which he felt, seemed to penetrate his
+      very soul.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Susan,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;Susan, may the blessing of God rest upon you till I see
+      you again!&rdquo;&mdash;and the affectionate girl was literally torn from his
+      arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But how came the most affecting part of the ceremony. His parents had
+      stood apart&mdash;their hands locked in each other, both in tears, whilst
+      he took leave of the rest. He now approached his mother, and reverently
+      kneeling down, implored in words scarcely intelligible, her blessing and
+      forgiveness; he extended both his hands&mdash;&ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;I ask&mdash;humbly
+      and penitently, I ask your blessing; it will be sweet to me from your
+      beloved lips, dear mother;&mdash;pardon me if I ever&mdash;as I feel I
+      often did&mdash;caused you a pang of sorrow by my disobedience and folly.
+      Oh, pardon me&mdash;pardon me for all now! Bless your son, kindest of
+      mothers, with your best and tenderest blessing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She threw herself in his arms, and locking him in her embrace, imprinted
+      every part of his face with kisses. &ldquo;Oh, Denis,&rdquo; she exclaimed, &ldquo;there is
+      but one more who will miss you more nor I will&mdash;Oh, my darlin' son&mdash;our
+      pride&mdash;our pride&mdash;our heart's pride&mdash;our honor, and our
+      credit! Sure, <i>anim machree</i>, I have nothin' to forgive you for, my
+      heart's life; but may the blessin' of God and of a happy mother light on
+      you! And, Denis <i>asthore</i>, wasn't it you that made me happy, and that
+      made us all happy. May my blessin' and the blessin' of God rest upon you&mdash;keep
+      you from every evil, and in every good, till my eyes will be made glad by
+      lookin' on you agin!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A grief more deep, and a happiness more full, than had yet been felt, were
+      now to come forth. Denis turned to his father&mdash;his companion in many
+      a pastime, and in many a walk about their native fields. In fair&mdash;in
+      market&mdash;at mass&mdash;and at every rustic amusement within their
+      reach&mdash;had he been ever at the side of that indulgent father, whose
+      heart and soul were placed in him. Denis could not utter a word, but kept
+      his streaming eyes fixed upon the old man, with that yearning expression
+      of the heart which is felt when it desires to be mingled with the very
+      existence of the object that it loves. Old Denis advanced, under powerful
+      struggles, to suppress his grief; he knelt, and, as the tears ran in
+      silence down his cheeks, thus addressed himself to God:&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I kneel down before you, oh, my God a poor sinner! I kneel here in your
+      blessed presence, with a heart&mdash;with a happy heartens day, to return
+      you thanks in the name of myself and the beloved partner you have given me
+      through the cares and thrials of this world, to give you our heart's best
+      thanks for graciously permittin' us to see this day! It is to you we owe
+      it, good Father of Heaven! It is to you we owe this&mdash;an' him&mdash;my
+      heart's own son, that kneels before me to be blessed by my lips! Yes&mdash;yes,
+      he is&mdash;he is the pride of our lives!&mdash;He is the mornin' star
+      among us! he was ever a good son; and you know that from the day he was
+      born to this minute, he never gave me a sore heart! Take him under your
+      own protection! Oh, bless him as we wish, if it be your holy will to do
+      so!&mdash;Bless him and guard him, for my heart's in him: it is&mdash;he
+      knows it&mdash;everybody knows it;&mdash;and if anything was to happen him&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He could proceed no further: the idea of losing his son, even in
+      imagination, overpowered him;&mdash;he rose, locked him to his breast, and
+      for many minutes the grief of both was loud and vehement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis's uncle now interposed: &ldquo;The horses,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;are at the door, an'
+      time's passin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Och, thrue for you, Barny,&rdquo; said old Denis; &ldquo;come, <i>acushla</i>, an'
+      let me help you on your horse. We will go on quickly, as we're to meet
+      Father Finnerty at the crass-roads.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Denis then shook hands with them all, not forgetting honest Phadrick
+      Murray, who exclaimed, as he bid him farewell, &ldquo;Arrah! Misther Denis,
+      aroon, won't you be thinkin' of me now an' thin in the College? Faix, if
+      you always argue as bravely wid the Collegians as you did the day you
+      proved me to be an ass you'll soon be at the head of them!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis,&rdquo; said the uncle, &ldquo;your father excuses me in regard of havin' to
+      attend my cattle in the fair to-day. You won't be angry wid me, dear, for
+      lavin' you now, as my road lies this other way. May the blessin' of God
+      and his holy mother keep you till I see you agin! an', Denis, if you'd
+      send me a scrape or two, lettin' me know what a good parish 'ud be worth;
+      for I intend next spring to go wid little Barny to the Latin!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This Denis promised to do; and after bidding him farewell, he and his
+      friends&mdash;some on horseback and numbers on foot&mdash;set out on their
+      journey; and as they proceeded through their own neighborhood, many a
+      crowd was collected to get a sight of Denis O'Shaughnessy going to
+      Maynooth.
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      It was one day in autumn, after a lapse of about two years, that the
+      following conversation took place between a wealthy grazier from the
+      neighboring parish, and one of our hero's most intimate, acquaintances. It
+      is valuable only as it throws light upon Denis's ultimate situation in
+      life, which, after all, was not what our readers might be inclined to
+      expect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, then, honest man,&rdquo; said Denis's friend, &ldquo;that's a murdherin' fine
+      dhrove o' bullocks you're bringin' to the fair?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay!&rdquo; replied the grazier, &ldquo;you may say that. I'm thinkin' it wouldn't be
+      asay to aquil them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faix, sure enough. Where wor they fed, wid simmission?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Up in Teernahusshogue. Arrah, will you tell me what weddin' was that that
+      passed awhile agone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A son of ould Denis O'Shaughnessy's, God be merciful to his sowl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Denis O'Shaughnessy! Is it him they called the 'Pigeon-house?' An' is it
+      possible he's dead?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's dead, nabor, an' in throth, an honest man's dead!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As ever broke the world's bread. The Lord make his bed in heaven this
+      day! Hasn't he a son larnin' to be a priest in May-newth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! <i>Fahreer gairh!</i> That's all over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, is he dead, too?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be Gorra, no&mdash;but the conthrairy to that. 'Twas his weddin' you seen
+      passin' a minute agone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it the young sogarth's? Musha, bad end to you, man alive, an' spake
+      out. Tell us how that happened. Sowl it's a quare business, an' him was in
+      Maynewth!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faith, he was so; an' they say there wasn't a man in Maynewth able to
+      tache him. But, passin' that over&mdash;you see, the father, ould Denis&mdash;an'
+      be Gorra, he was very bright, too, till the son grewn up, an' drownded him
+      wid the languidges&mdash;the father, you see, ould Denis himself, tuck a
+      faver whin the son was near a year in the college, an' it proved too many
+      for him. He died; an' whin young Dinny hard of it, the divil a one of him
+      would stay any longer in Maynewth. He came home like a scarecrow, said he
+      lost his health in it, an' refused to go back. Faith, it was a lucky thing
+      that his father died beforehand, for it would brake his heart. As it was,
+      they had terrible work about it. But ould Denis is never dead while young
+      Denis is livin'. Faix, he was as stiff as they wor stout, an' wouldn't
+      give in; so, afther ever so much' wranglin', he got the upper hand by
+      tellin' them that he wasn't able to bear the college at all; an' that if
+      he'd go back to it he'd soon folly his father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' what turned him against the college? Was that thrue?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thrue!&mdash;thrue indeed! The same youth was never at a loss for a piece
+      of invintion whin it sarved him. No, the sarra word of thruth at all was
+      in it. He soodered an' palavered a daughther of Owen Connor's, Susy&mdash;all
+      the daughther he has, indeed&mdash;before he wint to Maynewth at all, they
+      say. She herself wasn't for marryin' him, in regard of a vow she had; but
+      there's no doubt but he made her fond of him, for he has a tongue that 'ud
+      make black white, or white black, for that matther. So, be Gorra, he got
+      the vow taken off of her by the Bishop; she soon recovered her health, for
+      she was dyin' for love of him, an'&mdash;you seen their weddin'. It 'ud be
+      worth your while to go a day's journey to get a sight of her&mdash;she's
+      allowed to be the purtiest girl that ever was in this part o' the
+      counthry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! well! It's a quare world. An' is the family all agreeable to it
+      now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hut! where was the use of houldin' out aginst him? I tell you, he'd make
+      them agreeable to any thing, wanst he tuck it into his head. Indeed, it's
+      he that has the great larnin' all out! Why, now, you'd hardly b'lieve me,
+      when I tell you that he'd prove you to be an ass in three minutes; make it
+      as plain as the sun. He would; an' often made an ass o' myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, now that I look at you&mdash;aren't you Dan Murray's nephew?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Phadrick Murray, an' divil a one else, sure enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is your family, Phadrick? Why, man, you don't know your friends&mdash;my
+      name's Cahill.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it Andy Cahill of Phuldhu? Why, thin, death alive, Andy, how is every
+      bit of you? Andy, I'm regulatin' everything at this weddin', an' you must
+      turn over your horse till we have a dhrop for ould times. Bless my sowl!
+      sure, I'd know your brother round a corner; an' yourself, too, I ought to
+      know, only that I didn't see you since you wor a slip of a gorsoon. Come
+      away, man, sure thim men o' yours can take care o' the cattle. You'll
+      asily overtake thim.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Throth, I don't care if I have a glass wid an ould friend. But, I hope
+      your whiskey won't overtake me, Phadrick?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The never a fear of it, your father's son has too good a head for that.
+      Ough! man alive, if you could stay for the weddin'! Divil a sich a let out
+      ever was seen in the county widin the mimory of the ouldest man in it, as
+      it'll be. Denis is the boy that 'ud have the dacent thing or nothin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The grazier and Phadrick Murray then bent their steps to Owen Connor's
+      house, where the wedding was held. It is unnecessary to say that Phadrick
+      plied his new acquaintance to some purpose. Ere two hours passed the
+      latter had forgotten his bullocks as completely as if he had never seen
+      them, and his drovers were left to their own discretion in effecting their
+      sale. As for Andy Cahill, like many another sapient Irishman, he preferred
+      his pleasure to his business, got drunk, and danced, and sung at Denis
+      O'Shaughnessy's wedding, which we are bound to say was the longest, the
+      most hospitable, and most frolicsome that ever has been remembered in the
+      parish from that day to the present.
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 6em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
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+</pre>
+  </body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Going To Maynooth, by William Carleton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Going To Maynooth
+       Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of
+       William Carleton, Volume Three
+
+Author: William Carleton
+
+Illustrator: M. L. Flanery
+
+Release Date: June 7, 2005 [EBook #16016]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOING TO MAYNOOTH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+TRAITS AND STORIES OF THE IRISH PEASANTRY
+
+BY WILLIAM CARLETON
+
+
+PART V.
+
+
+[Illustration: Frontispiece]
+
+
+[Illustration: Titlepage]
+
+
+
+
+
+GOING TO MAYNOOTH.
+
+
+Young Denis O'Shaughnessy was old Denis's son; and old Denis, like
+many great men before him, was the son of his father and mother in
+particular, and a long line of respectable ancestors in general. He was,
+moreover, a great historian, a perplexing controversialist, deeply read
+in Dr. Gallagher and Pastorini, and equally profound in the history of
+Harry the Eighth, and Luther's partnership with the devil. Denis was
+a tall man, who, from his peculiar appearance, and the nature of
+his dress, a light drab-colored frieze, was nicknamed the Walking
+Pigeon-house; and truly, on seeing him at a distance, a man might
+naturally enough hit upon a worse comparison. He was quite straight,
+carried both his arms hanging by his sides, motionless and at their
+full length, like the pendulums of a clock that has ceased going. In his
+head, neck, and chest there was no muscular action visible; he walked,
+in fact, as if a milk-pail were upon his crown, or as if a single nod of
+his would put the planets out of order. But the principal cause of the
+similarity lay in his roundness, which resembled that of a pump, running
+to a point, or the pigeon-house aforesaid, which is still better.
+
+Denis, though a large man, was but a small farmer, for he rented only
+eighteen acres of good land. His family, however, like himself, was
+large, consisting of thirteen children, among whom Denis junior stood
+pre-eminent. Like old Denis, he was exceedingly long-winded in argument,
+pedantic as the schoolmaster who taught him, and capable of taking a
+very comprehensive grasp of any tangible subject.
+
+Young Denis's display of controversial talents was so remarkably
+precocious, that he controverted his father's statements upon all
+possible subjects, with a freedom from embarrassment which promised well
+for that most distinguished trait in a controversialist--hardihood of
+countenance. This delighted old Denis to the finger ends.
+
+"Dinny, if he's spared," he would say, "will be a credit to us all yet.
+The sorra one of him but's as manly as anything, and as longheaded as a
+four-footed baste, so he is! nothing daunts or dashes him, or puts him
+to an amplush: but he'll look you in the face so stout an' cute, an'
+never redden or stumble, whether he's right or wrong, that it does one's
+heart good to see him. Then he has such a laning to it, you see, that
+the crathur 'ud ground an argument on anything, thin draw it out to a
+norration an' make it as clear as rock-water, besides incensing you
+so well into the rason of the thing, that Father Finnerty himself 'ud
+hardly do it betther from the althar."
+
+The highest object of an Irish peasant's ambition is to see his son a
+priest. Whenever a farmer happens to have a large family, he usually
+destines one of them for the church, if his circumstances are at all
+such as can enable him to afford the boy a proper education. This youth
+becomes the centre in which all the affections of the family meet. He
+is cherished, humored in all his caprices, indulged in his boyish
+predilections, and raised over the heads of his brothers, independently
+of all personal or relative merit in himself. The consequence is,
+that he gradually became self-willed, proud, and arrogant, often to
+an offensive degree; but all this is frequently mixed up with a lofty
+bombast, and an under-current of strong disguised affection, that render
+his early life remarkably ludicrous and amusing. Indeed, the pranks of
+pedantry, the pretensions to knowledge, and the humor with which it is
+mostly displayed, render these scions of divinity, in their intercourse
+with the people until the period of preparatory education is completed,
+the most interesting and comical class, perhaps, to be found in the
+kingdom. Of these learned priestlings young Denis was undoubtedly
+a first-rate specimen. His father, a man of no education, was,
+nevertheless, as profound and unfathomable upon his favorite subjects as
+a philosopher; but this profundity raised him mightily in the opinion of
+the people, who admired him the more the less they understood him.
+
+Now old Denis was determined that young Denis should tread in his own
+footsteps; and, sooth to say, young Denis possessed as bright a talent
+for the dark and mysterious as the father himself. No sooner had the
+son commenced Latin with the intention of adorning the church, than the
+father put him in training for controversy. For a considerable time
+the laurels were uniformly borne away by the veteran: but what will not
+learning do? Ere long the son got as far as syntax, about which time
+the father began to lose ground, in consequence of some ugly quotations
+which the son threw into his gizzard, and which unfortunately stuck
+there. By and by the father receded more and more, as the son advanced
+in his Latin and Greek, until, at length, the encounters were only
+resorted to for the purpose of showing off the son.
+
+When young Denis had reached the age of sixteen or seventeen, he was
+looked upon by his father and his family, as well as by all their
+relations in general, as a prodigy. It was amusing to witness the
+delight with which the worthy man would call upon his son to exhibit his
+talents, a call to which the son instantly attended. This was usually
+done by commencing a mock controversy, for the gratification of some
+neighbor to whom the father was anxious to prove the great talents
+of his son. When old Denis got the young sogarth fairly in motion, he
+gently drew himself out of the dispute, but continued a running comment
+upon the son's erudition, pointed out his good things, and occasionally
+resumed the posture of the controversialist to reinspirit the boy if he
+appeared to flag.
+
+"Dinny, abouchal, will you come up till Phadrick Murray hears you
+arguin' Scripthur wid myself, Dinny. Now, Phadrick, listen, but keep
+your tongue sayin' nothin'; just lave us to ourselves. Come up, Dinny,
+till you have a hate at arguin' wid myself."
+
+"Fadher, I condimnate you at once--I condimnate you as being a most
+ungrammatical ould man, an' not fit to argue wid any one that knows
+Murray's English Grammar, an' more espaciously the three concords of
+Lily's Latin one; that is the cognation between the nominative case and
+the verb, the consanguinity between the substantive and the adjective,
+and the blood-relationship that irritates between the relative and the
+antecedent."
+
+"I tould you, Phadrick!! There's the boy that can rattle off the high
+English, and the larned Latin, jist as if he was born wid an English
+Dictionary in one cheek, a Latin Neksuggawn in the other, an Doctor
+Gallagher's Irish Sarmons nately on the top of his tongue between the
+two."
+
+"Fadher, but that unfortunately I am afflicted wid modesty, I'd blush
+crocus for your ignorance, as Virgil asserts in his Bucolics, _ut
+Virgilius ait in Bucolids_; and as Horatius, a book that I'm well
+acquainted wid, says in another place, _Huc pertinent verba_, says
+he, _commodandi, comparandi, dandi, prornittendi, soluendi imperandi
+nuntiandi, fidendi, obsequendi, minandi irascendi, et iis contraria_."
+
+"That's a good boy, Dinny; but why would you blush for my ignorance,
+avourneen? Take care of yourself now an' spake deep, for I'll outargue
+you at the heel o' the hunt, cute as you are."
+
+"Why do I blush for your ignorance, is it? Why thin, I'm sure I have
+sound rasons for it; only think of the gross persivarance wid which
+you call that larned work, the Lexicon in Greek, a neck-suggan. Fadher,
+never, attimpt to argue or display your ignorance wid me again. But,
+moreover, I can probate you to be an ungrammatical man from your own
+modus of argument."
+
+"Go an, avourneen. Phadrick!!"
+
+"I'm listenin'. The sorra's no match for his cuteness, an' one's puzzled
+to think where he can get it all."
+
+"Why, you don't know at all what I could do by larnin'. It would be no
+throuble to me to divide myself into two halves, an' argue the one agin
+the other."
+
+"You would, in throth, Dinny."
+
+"Ay, father, or cut myself acrass, an' dispute my head, maybe, agin my
+heels."
+
+"Throth, would you!"
+
+"Or practise logic wid my right hand, and bate that agin wid my left."
+
+"The sarra lie in it."
+
+"Or read the Greek Tistament wid my right eye, an thranslate it at the
+same time wid my left, according to the Greek an' English sides of my
+face, wid my tongue constrein' into Irish, unknownst to both o' them."
+
+"Why, Denis, he must have a head like a bell to be able to get into
+things."
+
+"Throth an' he has that, an' 'ill make a noise in conthroversy yet, if
+he lives. Now, Dinny, let us have a hate at histhory."
+
+"A hate at histhory?--wid all my heart; but before we begin, I tell you
+that I'll confound you precipitately; for you see, if you bate me in the
+English, I'll scarify you wid Latin, and give you a bang or two of Greek
+into the bargain. Och! I wish you'd hear the sackin' I gave Tom Reilly
+the other day; rubbed him down, as the masther says, wid a Greek towel,
+an' whenever I complimented him with the loan of a cut on the head,
+I always gave him a plaster of Latin to heal it; but the sorra worse
+healin' flesh in the world than Tom's is for the Latin, so I bruised a
+few Greek roots and laid them to his caput so nate, that you'd laugh
+to see him. Well is it histhory we are to begin wid? If it is, come
+on--advance. I'm ready for you--in protection--wid my guards up."
+
+"Ha, ha, ha! Well, if he isn't the drollest crathur, an' so cute! But
+now for the histhory. Can you prove to me, upon a clear foundation, the
+differ atween black an' white, or prove that Phadrick Murray here,
+long life to him, is an ass? Now, Phadrick, listen, for you must decide
+betune us."
+
+"Orra, have you no other larnin' than that to argue upon? Sure if you
+call upon me to decide, I must give it agin Dinny. Why my judgment won't
+be worth a hap'orth, if he makes an ass of me!"
+
+"What matther how you decide, man alive, if he proves you to be one;
+sure that is all we want. Never heed shakin' your head--listen an' it
+will be well worth your while. Why, man, you'll know more nor you ever
+knew or suspected before, when he proves you to be an ass."
+
+"In the first place, fadher, you're ungrammatical in one word; instead
+of sayin' 'prove,' always say probate, or probe; the word is descended,
+that is, the ancisthor of it, is probo, a deep Greek word--probo,
+probas, prob-ass, that is to say, I'm to probe Phadrick here to be
+an ass. Now, do you see how pat I brought that in? That's the way,
+Phadrick, I chastise my fadher with the languages."
+
+"In throth it is; go an avick. Phadrick!"
+
+"I'm listenin'."
+
+"Phadrick, do you know the differ atween black an' white'?"
+
+"Atween black an' white? Hut, gorsoon, to be sure I do."
+
+"Well, an' what might it be, Phadrick, my larned Athiop? What might it
+be, I negotiate?"
+
+"Why, thin, the differ atween them is this, Dinny, that black is--let me
+see--why--that black is not red--nor yallow--nor brown--nor green--nor
+purple--not cut-beard--nor a heather color--nor a grog-ram"--
+
+"Nor a white?"
+
+"Surely, Dinny, not a white, abouchal; don't think to come over me that
+way."
+
+"But I want to know what color it is, most larned sager."
+
+"All rasonable, Dinny, Why, thin, black is--let me see--hut, death
+alive!--it's--a--a--why, it's black, an' that's all I can say about it;
+yes, faix, I can--black is the color of Father Curtis's coat."
+
+"An' what color is that, Phadrick?"
+
+"Why, it's black, to be sure."
+
+"Well, now, what color is white, Phadrick?"
+
+"Why, it's a snow-color: for all the world the color of snow."
+
+"White is?"
+
+"Ay, is it."
+
+"The dear help your head, Phadrick, if that's all you know about snow.
+In England, man, snow is an Oxford gray, an' in Scotland, a pepper an'
+salt, an' sometimes a cut-beard, when they get a hard winther. I found
+that much in the Greek, any way, Phadrick. Thry agin, you imigrant, I'll
+give you another chance--what color is white?"
+
+"Why, thin, it's--white--an' nothin' else. The sorra one but you'd
+puzzle a saint wid your long-headed screwtations from books."
+
+"So, Phadrick, your preamble is, that white is white, an' black is
+black?"
+
+"Asy avick. I said, sure enough, that white is white; but the black I
+deny--I said it was the color of Father Curtis's black coat."
+
+"Oh, you barbarian of the world, how I scorn your profundity an'
+emotions! You're a disgrace to the human sex by your superciliousness
+of knowledge, an' your various quotations of ignorance. Ignorantia,
+Phadrick, is your date an' superscription. Now, stretch out your ears,
+till I probate, or probe to you the differ atween black an' white."
+
+"Phadrick!!" said the father.
+
+"I'm listenin'."
+
+"Now, Phadrick, here's the griddle, an' here's a clane plate. Do you see
+them here beside one another?"
+
+"I'm lookin' at them."
+
+"Now, shut your eyes."
+
+"Is that your way, Denis, of judgin' colors?"
+
+"Shut your eyes, I say, till I give you ocular demonstration of the
+differ atween these two respectable colors."
+
+"Well, they're shut."
+
+"An' keep them so. Now, what differ do you see atween them?"
+
+"The sorra taste, man alive; I never seen anything in my whole life so
+clearly of a color as they are both this minute."
+
+"Don't you see now, Phadrick, that there's not the smallest taste o'
+differ in them, an' that's accordin' to Euclid."
+
+"Sure enough, I see the divil a taste o' differ atween the two."
+
+"Well, Phadrick, that's the point settled. There's no discrimination at
+all atween black an' white. They're both of the same color--so long as
+you keep your eyes shut."
+
+"But if a man happens to open his eyes, Dinny?"
+
+"He has no right to open them, Phadrick, if he wants to prove the truth
+of a thing. I should have said probe--but it does not significate."
+
+"The heavens mark you to grace, Dinny. You did that in brave style.
+Phadrick, ahagur, he'll make the darlin' of an arguer whin he gets the
+robes an him."
+
+"I don't deny that; he'll be aquil to the best o' thim: still, Denis,
+I'd rather, whin I want to pronounce upon colors, that he'd let me keep
+my eyes open."
+
+"Ay, but he did it out o' the books, man alive; an' there's no goin'
+beyant thim. Sure he could prove it out of the Divinity, if you went
+to that. An' what is still more, he could, by shuttin' your eyes, in the
+same way prove black to be white, an' white black, jist as asy."
+
+"Surely myself doesn't doubt it. I suppose, by shuttin' my eyes, the
+same lad could prove anything to me."
+
+"But, Dinny, avourneen, you didn't prove Phadrick to be an ass yit.
+Will you do that by histhory, too, Dinny, or by the norrations of
+Illocution?"
+
+"Father, I'm surprised at your gross imperception. Why, man, if you
+were not a _rara avis_ of somnolency, a man of most frolicsome
+determinations, you'd be able to see that I've proved Phadrick to be an
+ass already."
+
+"Throth, I deny that you did; there wasn't a word about my bein' an
+ass, in the last discoorse. It was all upon the differ atween black an'
+white."
+
+"Oh, how I scorn your gravity, man! _Ignorantia_, as I said, is your
+date an' superscription; an' when you die, you ought to go an' engage
+a stone-cutter to carve you a headstone, an' make him write on it, _Hic
+jacet Ignorantius Redivicus_. An' the translation of that is, accordin'
+to Publius Virgilius Maro--'here lies a quadruped who didn't know the
+differ atween black an' white.'"
+
+"Well, by the livin', Dinny, I dunna where you get all this deep
+readin'."
+
+"Sure he gets it all in the Dixonary."
+
+"Bedad, that Dixonary must be a fine book entirely, to thim that
+undherstand it."
+
+"But, Dinny, will you tell Phadrick the Case of Conscience atween Barny
+Branagan's two goats an' Parra Ghastha's mare?"
+
+"Fadher, if you were a grammarian, I'd castigate your incompatability as
+it desarves--I'd lay the scourge o' syntax upon you, as no man ever
+got it since the invintion o' the nine parts of speech. By what rule of
+logic can you say that aither Barny Branagan's goats or Parra Ghastha's
+mare had a conscience? I tell you it wasn't they had the conscience,
+but the divine who decided the difficulty. Phadrick, lie down till I
+illusthrate."
+
+"How is that, Dinny? I can hear you sittin'."
+
+"Lie down, you reptile, or I shall decline the narration altogether."
+
+"Arra, lie down, Phadrick; sure he only wants to show you the rason o'
+the thing."
+
+"Well, well; I'm down. Now Dinny, don't let your feet be too larned, if
+you plase."
+
+"Silence!--_taceto!_ you reptile. Now, Phadrick, here, on this side o'
+you, lies Barny Branagan's field; an' there, on that side, lies a field
+of Parra Ghastha's; you're the ditch o' mud betuxt them."
+
+"The ditch o' mud! Faix that's dacent!"
+
+"Now here, on Barny Branagan's side, feeds Parra Ghastha's mare; an'
+there, on Parra Ghastha's side, feed Barny Branagan's goats. Do you
+comprehend? Do you insinuate?"
+
+"I do--I do. Death alive! there's no use in punchin' my sides wid your
+feet that way."
+
+"Well, get up now an' set your ears."
+
+"Now listen to him, Phadrick!"
+
+"It was one night in winter, when all nature shone in the nocturnal
+beauty of tenebrosity: the sun had set about three hours before; an',
+accordin' to the best logicians, there was a dearth of light. It's the
+general opinion of philosophers--that is, of the soundest o' them--that
+when the sun is down the moon an' stars are usually up; an' so they were
+on the night that I'm narratin' about. The moon was, wid great respect
+to her character, night-walkin' in the sky; and the stars vegetated in
+celestial genuflexion around her. Nature, Phadrick, was in great state;
+the earth was undher our feet, an' the sky above us. The frost, too,
+was hard, Phadrick, the air keen, an' the grass tendher. All things
+were enrobed wid verisimilitude an' scrupulosity. In this manner was the
+terraqueous part of our system, when Parra Ghastha's mare, after havin'
+taken a cowld collation on Barny Branagan's grass, was returnin' to her
+master's side o' the merin; an' Barny Branagan's goats, havin' tasted
+the sweets of Parra Ghastha's cabbages, were on their way acrass the
+said merin to their own side. Now it so happened that they met exactly
+at a narrow gap in the ditch behind Rosha Halpin's house. The goats,
+bein' coupled together, got one on each side of the rift, wid the rope
+that coupled them extended acrass it. The mare stood in the middle of
+it, so that the goats were in the way of the mare, an' the mare in the
+way of the goats. In the meantime they surveyed one another wid great
+composure, but had neither of them the politeness to stir, until Rosha
+Halpin came suddenly out, an' emptied a vessel of untransparent wather
+into the ditch. The mare, who must have been an animal endowed wid great
+sensibility of soul, stooped her head suddenly at the noise; an' the
+goats, who were equally sentimental, gave a start from nervishness. The
+mare, on raisin' her head, came in contact wid the cord that united the
+goats; an' the goats, havin' lost their commandin' position, came in
+contact wid the neck o' the mare. _Quid multis?_ They pulled an' she
+pulled, an' she pulled an' they pulled, until at length the mare was
+compelled to practise the virtue of resignation in the ditch, wid the
+goats about her neck. She died by suspinsion; but the mettlesome ould
+crathur, wid a love of justice that did her honor, hanged the goat's
+in requital; for they departed this vale of tears on the mountain side
+along wid her, so that they had the satisfaction of dyin' a social death
+together.--Now, Phadrick, you quadruped, the case of conscience is,
+whether Parra Ghastha has a right to make restitution to Barny Branagan
+for the loss of his goats, or Barny Branagan to Parra Ghastha for the
+loss of his mare?"
+
+"Bedad, that's a puzzler!"
+
+"Isn't it, Phadrick? But wait till you hear how he'll clear it up! Do it
+for Phadrick, Dinny."
+
+"Yis, Phadrick, I'll illusthrate your intellects by divinity. You see,
+Phadrick, you're to suppose me to be in the chair, as confessor. Very
+well,--or _valde_, in the larned languages--Parra Ghastha comes to
+confess to me, an' tells me that Barny Branagan wants to be paid for his
+goats. I tell him it's a disputed point, an that the price o' the goats
+must go to the church. On the other hand, Barny Branagan tells me
+that Parra Ghastha wishes to be paid for his mare. I say again, it's
+a disputed point, an' that the price o' the mare must go to the
+church--the amount of the proceeds to be applied in prayer towards the
+benefit of the parties, in the first instance, an' of the faithful in
+general afterwards."
+
+"Phadrick!!!"
+
+"Oh, that I may never, but he bates the globe!"
+
+Denny's character is a very common one in the remote parts of Ireland,
+where knowledge is novelty, and where the slightest tinge of learning
+is looked upon with such reverence and admiration, as can be properly
+understood only by those who have an opportunity of witnessing it.
+Indeed, few circumstances prove the great moral influence which the
+Irish priesthood possesses over the common people more forcibly, than
+the extraordinary respect paid by the latter to such as are designed for
+the "mission." The moment the determination is made, an incipient
+sanctity begins, as it were, to consecrate the young priest; and a high
+opinion of his learning and talents to be entertained, no matter how
+dull he may be so far as honest nature is concerned. Whatever he says is
+sure to have some hidden meaning in it, that would be' highly edifying,
+if they themselves understood it. But their own humility comes in here
+to prop up his talents; and whatsoever perplexity there may be in
+the sense of what he utters, is immediately attributed to learning
+altogether beyond their depth.
+
+Love of learning is a conspicuous principle in an Irish peasant; and in
+no instance is it seen to greater advantage, than when the object of it
+appears in the "makins of a priest." Among all a peasant's good and evil
+qualities, this is not the least amiable. How his eye will dance in his
+head with pride, when the young priest thunders out a line of Virgil
+or Homer, a sentence from Cicero, or a rule from Syntax! And with
+what complacency and affection will the father and relations of such a
+person, when sitting during a winter evening about the hearth, demand
+from him a translation of what he repeats, or a grammatical analysis, in
+which he must show the dependencies and relations of word upon word--the
+concord, the verb, the mood, the gender, and the case; into every
+one and all of which the learned youth enters with an air of oracular
+importance, and a pollysyllabicism of language that fails not in
+confounding them with astonishment and edification. Neither does Paddy
+confine himself to Latin or Greek, for his curiosity in hearing a little
+upon all known branches of human learning is boundless. When a lad is
+designed for the priesthood, he is, as if by a species of intuition,
+supposed to know more or less of everything--astronomy, fluxions,
+Hebrew, Arabic, and the black art, are subjects upon which he is
+frequently expected to dilate; and vanity scruples not, under the
+protection of their ignorance, to lead the erudite youth through
+what they believe to be the highest regions of imagination, or the
+profoundest depths of science and philosophy.
+
+It is, indeed, in those brilliant moments, when the young priest is
+launching out in full glory upon some topic of which he knows not a
+syllable, that it would be a learned luxury to catch him. These flights,
+however, are very pardonable, when we consider the importance they
+give him in the eyes of his friends, and reflect upon that lofty and
+contemptuous pride, and those delectable sensations which the appearance
+of superior knowledge gives to the pedant, whether raw or trained, high
+or low, in this profession or the other. It matters little that such
+a feeling dilates the vanity in proportion to the absence of real
+knowledge or good sense: it is not real, but affected knowledge, we are
+writing about. Pride is confined to no condition; nor is the juvenile
+pedantry of a youth upon the hob of an Irish chimney-corner much
+different from the pride which sits upon the brow of a worthy Lord
+Mayor, freshly knighted, lolling with strained dignity beside his
+honorable brother, the mace, during a city procession; or of a Lady
+Mayoress, when she reads upon a dead wall her own name flaming in yellow
+capitals, at the head of a subscription ball; or, what is better still,
+the contemptuous glance which, while about to open the said ball, her
+ladyship throws at that poor creature--the Sheriff's wife.
+
+In addition, however, to the enjoyment of this assumption of profound
+learning which characterizes the young priest, a different spirit,
+considerably more practical, often induces him to hook in other motives.
+The learning of Denis O'Shaughnessy, for instance, blazed with peculiar
+lustre whenever he felt himself out at elbows; for the logic with
+which he was able to prove the connection between his erudition and a
+woollen-draper's shop, was, like the ignorance of those who are to be
+saved, invincible. Whenever his father considered a display of the
+son's powers in controversy to be _capital_, Denis, who knew the _mollia
+tempora fandi_, applied to him for a hat. Whenever he drew a heretic,
+as a person who will be found hereafter without the wedding garment, and
+clinched the argument with half a dozen quotations from syntax or Greek
+grammar, he uniformly came down upon the father for a coat, the cloth
+of which was finer in proportion to the web of logic he wove during the
+disputation. Whenever he seated himself in the chair of rhetoric, or
+gave an edifying homily on prayer, with such eloquence as rendered the
+father's admiration altogether inexpressible, he applied for a pair of
+smallclothes; and if, in the excursiveness of his vigorous imagination
+he travelled anywhere beyond the bounds of common sense, he was certain
+to secure a pair of shoes.
+
+This, of course, did not escape the satirical observation of the
+neighbors, who commented upon the circumstance with that good humor
+which renders their mother-wit so pleasant and spicy. The scenes where
+many of these displays took place, varied according to the occurrence
+of those usual incidents which diversify country life. Sometimes old
+Denis's hearth was selected; at others, a neighboring wakehouse, and
+not unfrequently the chapel-green, where, surrounded by a crowd of eager
+listeners, the young priest and his Latin would succeed in throwing the
+hedge-schoolmaster and his problems completely into the shade.
+
+The father's pride, on these occasions, always prompted him to become
+the aggressor; but he only did this to draw out the talents of his son
+to more advantage. Never was man foiled with less regret than old Denis;
+nor did ever man more bitterly repent those little touches of vanity,
+which, sometimes induced him, when an opportunity of prostrating Denny
+arrived, to show what he could have done, by giving the son's argument
+an unexpected brainblow. These accidental defeats always brought the
+son! more than he lost by them; for the father usually made him a
+peace-offering in the shape of pocket-money, books, or clothes. The
+great amusement of the peasantry around the chapel-green of a Sunday,
+was to hear the father and son engaged in argument; and so simple was
+the character of both, that their acquaintances declared, they could
+know by the state of young Denis's coat, and the swaggering grasp with
+which old Denis held his staff, that an encounter was about to take
+place.
+
+"Young O'Shaughnessy's gettin' bare," they would observe; "there'll be
+hard arguin' till he gets the clothes. He's puttin' in for a black coat
+now, he's so grave. Go on, Denny," they would say again: "more power
+an' a dacenter sleeve to your elbow. Stick to him!--very good!--that's
+a clincher!--you're gone beyond the skirts, Denny!--let him pocket
+that larnin'. Dinis, you're bate, body and slaves! (* altogether;
+completely)--you're no match for the gorsoon, Dinis. Good agin,
+abouchal!--that's puttin' the collar on it!"--And so on, varying the
+phrase according to the whim of the moment.
+
+Nothing gave the father greater pleasure than these observations,
+although the affected earnestness with which he encountered the son, and
+his pretended indignation at those who affirmed him to have been beaten,
+were highly amusing to the bystanders.
+
+Such discussions were considered highly edifying and instructive by
+them, and they were sometimes at a loss whether to give the palm of
+ingenuity and eloquence to the father or Denny. The reader, however,
+must not suppose that the contemptuous expressions scattered over
+Denny's rhetorical flourishes; when discussing these points with his
+father, implied want of reverence or affection--far from it. On the
+contrary, the father always liked him the better for them, inasmuch as
+they proved Denny's vast superiority over himself. They were, therefore,
+only the licenses and embellishments of discussion, tolerated and
+encouraged by him to whom they were applied.
+
+Denny at length shot up to the stature of a young man, probably about
+eighteen; and during the two last years of his school studies he
+presented a considerable, if not a decidedly marked change in his
+character and external appearance. His pride became more haughty, and
+the consciousness of his learning, and of the influence annexed to
+the profession for which he was intended, put itself forth with
+less discussion, but more energy. His manners and attitude became
+constrained; the expression of his face began to darken, and to mould
+itself into a stiff, gloomy formality, that was strongly calculated
+to conceal the natural traits of his character. His dress, too, had
+undergone a great improvement; for instead of wearing shop blue or
+brown, he wore good black broad-cloth, had a watch in his fob, a
+respectable hat, and finer linen.
+
+This change, now necessary in consequence of his semiclerical character,
+influenced him through every relation of life. His nearest friends,
+whilst their pride in him increased, fell off to a more respectful
+distance; and his deportment, so far from being that of a good-humored
+Bobadil of polemics and pedantry upon all known and unknown subjects,
+became silent and solemn, chequered only during the moments of
+family conviviality by an excessive flow of that pleasant and still
+incomprehensible learning for the possession of which he had so honestly
+earned himself a character. Much of his pedantry was now lopped off, it
+is true, because the pride of his station prevented him from entering
+into discussions with the people. It cost him, however, some trouble to
+overcome his early tendencies; nor, after all, can it be affirmed that
+he altogether succeeded in eradicating them. Many a grave shrug, and
+solemn wink, and formal nod, had he to answer for, when his foot touched
+the debatable land of controversy. Though contrary to the keeping
+and dignity of his position in life, yet did honest Denny then get
+desperately significant, and his face amazingly argumentative. Many a
+pretender has he fairly annihilated by a single smile of contempt that
+contained more logic than a long argument from another man. In fact, the
+whole host of rhetorical figures seemed breaking out of his face. By
+a solitary glance of his eye he could look a man into a dilemma, and
+practise a _sorites_, or a homemade syllogism, by the various shiftings
+of his countenance, as clearly as if he had risen to the full flight
+of his former bombast. He had, in short, a _prima facie_ disposition to
+controversy; his nose was set upon his face in a kind of firm defiance
+against infidels, heretics, and excommunicated persons; and when
+it curled with contempt of another, or with pride in the power that
+slumbered in itself, it seemed to give the face from which it projected,
+and the world at large, the assurance of a controversialist. Nor did his
+negative talents rest here: a twist of his mouth to the right or left
+ear, was nicely shaded away into a negative or affirmative, according
+as he intended it should be taken; and when he used his
+pocket-handkerchief, he was certain, though without uttering a syllable,
+to silence his opponent, so contemptuously did his intonations rout the
+arguments brought against him. The significance and force of all these
+was heightened by the mystery in which they were wrapped; for whenever
+unbending decorum constrained him to decline the challenges of the
+ignorant, with whom discussion would now be degradation, what could he
+do to soothe his vanity, except, as the poet says, with folded arms
+and a shaking of the head to exclaim--"_Well, well we know;_ or, _if we
+could, and if we would;_ or, _if we list to speak_; or, _there be an if
+they might;_" which left the imaginations of his hearers at liberty
+to conceive more fully of those powers which his modesty declined
+exhibiting. For some time before he got absolutely and finally into
+black, even his father gave up his accustomed argument in despair. The
+son had become an adept in all the intricacies and obscurities of Latin,
+and literally overwhelmed the old man with small inundations of that
+language, which though, like all inundations, rather muddy, yet were
+they quite sufficient to sweep the worthy veteran before them.
+
+Young Denis O'Shaughnessy was now pretty nearly finished at school, that
+is to say, almost fit for Maynooth; his studies, though higher, were
+less assiduous; his leisure was consequently greater; and it is well
+known, that a person of his character is never asked to work, except it
+be his own pleasure to labor a day or two, by way of amusement. He might
+now be seen walking of a warm day along the shady sides of the hedges,
+with a book in his hand, or stretched listlessly upon the grass, at
+study; or sauntering about among the neighboring workmen, with his
+forefinger between the leaves of his book, a monument of learning and
+industry.
+
+It is not to be supposed, however, that Denis, who was an Irishman of
+eighteen, handsome and well made, could be altogether insensible
+to female beauty, and seductive charms of the sex. During his easy
+saunterings--or, as the Scotch say, "daunerings"--along the roads and
+about the green hedges, it often happened that he met a neighbor's
+daughter; and Denis, who, as a young gentleman of breeding, was bound to
+be courteous, could not do less than accost her with becoming urbanity.
+
+"Good-mornin', Miss Norah," we will suppose him to say, when meeting a
+good-looking arch girl of his acquaintance.
+
+"Good-morrow, Mr. O'Shaughnessy. I hope you're well, sir."
+
+"Indeed I am, at present, in superlatively ecclesiastical health, Miss
+Norah. I hope all your family are well?"
+
+"All very well, I thank you, sir, barrin' myself."
+
+"An' pray what's the matther wid you, Miss Norah? I hope" (with an
+exceeding grave but complacent smile) "you're not affected wid the
+amorous passion of love?"
+
+"Oh, that 'ud be tellin', Mr. O'Shaughnessy! But supposin' I am, what
+ought I to do?"
+
+"That's really a profound question, Miss Norah. But though I cannot tell
+you what to do, I can tell you what I think."
+
+"An' what is that, sir?"
+
+"Why, Miss Norah, that he who is so beatified as to secure you in the
+matrimonial paction--_compactum_ it is in the larned languages--in other
+words--to condescend to your capacity--he who is married to you will be
+a happy man. There is a juvenility about your eyes, and an efflorescence
+of amaranthine odoriferousness about your cheeks and breath that are
+enough to communicate the centrifugal motion to any brain adorned with
+the slightest modicum of sentiment."
+
+"He who marries me will be a happy man!" she exclaimed, repeating these
+expressions, probably because they were the only words she understood.
+"I hope so, Misther O'Shaughnessy. But, sure enough, who'd expect to
+hear sich soft talk from the makins of a priest? Very well, sir! Upon
+my word I'll be tellin' Father Finnerty that you do be spakin' up to the
+girls!--Now!!"
+
+"No, no, Miss Norah; you wouldn't do that merely for my sayin' that
+you're the handsomest girl in the parish. Father Finnerty himself might
+say as much, for it would be nothing but veracity--nothing but truth,
+Miss Norah."
+
+"Ah! but he wouldn't be pattin' me on the cheek! Be asy, Mr.
+O'Shaughnessy; there's Darby Brady lookin' at you, an' he'll be
+tellin'!"
+
+"Where?" said Denis, starting.
+
+The girl replied only by an arch laugh.
+
+"Upon my classicality, Miss Norah, you're a rogue; there's nobody
+lookin', you seraphim!"
+
+"Then there's a pair of us rogues, Misther Dinis."
+
+"No, no, Miss Norah; I was only feeling your cheek as a philosophical
+experiment. Philosophers often do it, in order to make out an
+hypothesis."
+
+"Misther Dinis, if I'm not marrid till you're a priest, won't you say
+the words for me for nothing?"
+
+"So long as you ask it wid such a brilliant smiled Miss Norah, do
+you think that any educated young man who has read about beauty an'
+sentimentality in books, could refuse you? But you know, Miss Norah,
+that the clergyman who marries a couple has always the right of kissing
+the bride. Now I wouldn't claim my right then; but it might be possible
+by a present compromise to--to----. What would you think, for instance,
+to give me that now?"
+
+"To give you what?"
+
+"Why the----indeed it's but a slight recompense, the--k---- the
+salutation--the kiss. You know what tasting the head means?"
+
+"Faix, Misther Dinis, you're a great rogue. Who'd think it indeed? Sure
+enough, they say smooth water runs deep! Why one 'ud suppose butther
+wouldn't melt in your mouth to look at you; an' yet you want to be
+toyin' wid the girls! Indeed an' faix, it's a great shame for the likes
+o' you, that's bint on Maynooth, to be thinkin' of coortin' at all. But
+wait! Upon my word, I'll have a fine story agin you, plase goodness!"
+
+This latter threat the mischievous girl threw out with a grave face, in
+order to bring Denis into a more ridiculous dilemma; for she saw clearly
+that he labored under a heavy struggle between timidity and gallantry.
+The ruse succeeded. Denis immediately changed his tone, and composed
+his face into a grave admonitory aspect, nearly equal to a homily on
+prudence and good conduct.
+
+"Miss Norah," said he, "perhaps I acted wrong in carrying my trial
+of your disposition too far. It's a thing, however, which we who are
+intended for the church are ordered to do, that we may be able to
+make out what are called in this very book you see wid me, cases of
+conscience. But the task is now over, Miss Norah; and, in requital
+for your extrame good nature, I am bound to administer to you a slight
+lecture on decorum.
+
+"In the first place, attend your duties regularly. I will soon be
+goin' to Maynooth; an' as you are one of the girls for whom I have the
+greatest regard, I will expect on my return to hear a good account
+of you. It is possible that you'll be introduced in my absence to the
+honors of matrimony; but even so, I know that peace, an' taciturnity,
+an' submission will be your most signal qualifications. You will then be
+in a situation equal to that of a Roman matron. As for us, Miss Norah,
+we are subject to the dilapidations of occasional elevation.
+The ambrosia of sentiment lies in our path. We care not for the
+terrestrialities of life, when separated from the great principle of the
+poet--
+
+'_Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori_.'
+
+That's Hebrew, Miss Norah!"
+
+"They say you know a power of larnin', Misther Dinis."
+
+"Yes, I know the seven languages; but what is all that compared to the
+cardinal virtues. This world is a mere bird of passage, Miss Norali; and
+it behooves us to be ever on the wing for futurity and premeditation.
+Now, will you remember the excellent moral advice I have given you?"
+
+"Indeed I will, sir," replied the roguish minx, tripping away;
+"particularly that you promised to marry me for nothin' if I'd give you
+a kiss!"
+
+"Give up everything like levity, Miss Norah. Attend your du--"
+
+
+[Illustration: PAGE 985-- You're a fool, Misther O'Shaughnessy!]
+
+
+"You're a fool, Misther O'Shaughnessy! Why didn't you take the kiss, an'
+spare the king's English?"
+
+On making this observation she redoubled her pace, and left Denis now
+perfectly sensible that he was a proper subject for her mirth. He turned
+about, and called after her--
+
+"Had I known that you were only in jocosity, Miss Nora, upon my
+classicality, I'd have given you the k----."
+
+He now perceived that she was beyond hearing, and that it was
+unnecessary to finish the sentence.
+
+These accidental meetings between Denis and the pretty daughters of the
+neighboring farmers were, somehow, very frequent. Our hero, however, was
+always extremely judicious in tempering his gallantry and moral advice
+to his young female acquaintances. In the beginning of the conversation
+he was sly and complimentary, afterwards he became more insinuating,
+then more direct in his praises of their beauty; but as his timidity on
+the point of character was known, the mischief-loving girls uniformly
+ended with a threat of exposing him to the priest, to his friends, or to
+the neighbors, as the whim directed them. This brought him back to his
+morality again; he immediately commenced an exhortation touching their
+religious duties, thus hoping to cover, by a trait more becoming
+his future destination, the little harmless badinage in which he had
+indulged.
+
+The girls themselves frequently made him the topic of conversation, a
+proof that he was not altogether indifferent to them. In these little
+conclaves he came very well off. Among them all it was admitted "that
+there was a rogue in his coat;" but this was by no means uttered in a
+tone of voice that betrayed any disrelish to him. On the contrary, they
+often said--and many of them with an involuntary sigh--that "he was too
+purty to be made a priest of;" others, that "it was a pity to make a
+priest of so fine a young man;" others, again, that "if he must be a
+priest, the colleens would be all flockin' to hear his sarmons." There
+was one, however, among them who never mentioned him either in praise or
+censure; but the rapid changes of her expressive countenance gave
+strong indications to an observing eye that his name, person, and future
+prospects were capable of exciting a deep and intense interest in her
+heart.
+
+At length he began to appear on horseback; and as he had hitherto been
+in the habit of taking that exercise bare-backed, now he was resolved
+to get into a saddle, and ride like a gentleman. Henceforth he might be
+seen mounted upon one of his father's horses, quite erect, and with but
+one spur, which was, in fact, the only spur, except the whiskey bottle,
+that had been in the family for three generations. This was used, he
+declared, for no other purpose in life than that of "stimulating the
+animal to the true clerical trot."
+
+From the moment he became a mounted man he assumed an air of less
+equivocal command in the family; and not only to his own relations was
+this authority manifested, but to his more distant acquaintances, and,
+in short, to the whole parish. The people now began to touch their hats
+to him, which act of respect he returned as much in imitation of the
+parish priest as possible. They also began to ask him what o'clock
+it was, and Denis, with a peculiar condescension, balanced still with
+becoming dignity, stopped, pulled out his watch, and told the hour,
+after which he held it for a few seconds to his ear with an experienced
+air, then put it in a dignified manner in his fob, touched the horse
+with the solitary spur, put himself more erect, and proceeded with--as
+he himself used to say, when condemning the pride of the curate--"all
+the lordliness of the parochial priest."
+
+The notions which the peasantry entertain of a priest's learning are as
+extravagant as they are amusing, and such, indeed, as would be too
+much for the pedantic vanity inseparable from a half-educated man to
+disclaim. The people are sufficiently reasonable, however, to admit
+gradations in the extent of knowledge acquired by their pastors; but
+some of the figures and illustrations which they use in estimating their
+comparative merits are highly ludicrous. I remember a young man, who,
+at the age of twenty-two, set about preparing himself for the church. He
+lived in the bosom of a mountain, whose rugged breast he cultivated
+with a strength proportioned to the difficulty of subduing it. He was
+a powerful young fellow, quiet and inoffensive in his manners, and
+possessed of great natural talents. It was upon a Monday morning, in the
+month of June, that the school-room door opened a foot and a half wider
+than usual, and a huge, colossal figure stalked in, with a kind of
+bashful laugh upon his countenance, as if conscious of the disproportion
+betwixt his immense size and that of the other schoolboys. His figure,
+without a syllable of exaggeration, was precisely such as I am about to
+describe. His height six feet, his shoulders of an enormous breadth,
+his head red as fire; his body-coat made after the manner of his
+grandfather's--the skirts of it being near his heels--and the buttons
+behind little less than eighteen inches asunder. The pockets were cut
+so low, that when he stretched his arm to its full length, his fingers
+could not get further than the flaps; the breast of it was about nine
+inches longer than was necessary, so that when he buttoned it, he
+appeared all body. He wore no cravat, nor was his shirt-collar either
+pinned or buttoned, but lay open as if to disclose an immense neck and
+chest scorched by the sun into a rich and healthy scarlet. His chin was
+covered with a sole of red-dry bristles, that appeared to have been
+clipped about a fortnight before; and as he wore neither shoe
+nor stocking, he exhibited a pair of legs to which Rob Roy's were
+drumsticks. They gave proof of powerful strength, and the thick fell of
+bristly hair with which they were covered argued an amazing hardihood of
+constitution and tremendous physical energy.
+
+"Sure, Masther, I'm comin' to school to you!" were the first words he
+uttered.
+
+Now there ran beneath the master's solemnity of manner a broad but
+shallow under-current of humor, which agreed but poorly with his pompous
+display of learning. On this occasion his struggle to retain the grave
+and overcome the ludicrous was unavailing. The startling fact thus
+uncouthly announced by so grotesque a candidate for classical knowledge
+occasioned him to receive the intelligence with more mirth than was
+consistent with good breeding. His pupils, too, who were hitherto afraid
+to laugh aloud, on observing his countenance dilate into an expression
+of laughter which he could not conceal, made the roof of the house ring
+with their mirth.
+
+"Silence, gintlemen," said he; "_legite, perlegite, et relegite_--study,
+gintlemen, study--pluck the tree of knowledge, I say, while the fruit is
+in season. Denny O'Shaughnessy, what are you facetious for? _Quid rides,
+Dionysi_ And so, Pether--is Pettier your pronomen--quo nomine gowdes?
+Silence, boys!--perhaps he was at Latin before, and we'll try him--_quo
+nomine gowdes, Pethre?_"
+
+A stare of awkward perplexity was the only reply he could get from the
+colossus he addressed.
+
+"And so you're fished up from the Streights (* Alluding to the Colossus
+of Rhodes) at last, Pether?"
+
+"Sir, my name's not Pether. My father's name is Paddy Doorish, but my
+own is Franky. I was born in Lisnagh; but we lived double as long as I
+can mind in the Mountain Bar."
+
+"And, Franky, what put Latin into your head?"
+
+"There was no Latin put into my head; I'm comin' to you for that."
+
+"And, you graceful sprig of juvenility, have you the conscience to think
+that I'd undhertake to fill what you carry on your showlders on the
+same terms that I'd take for replenishing the head of a rasonable youth?
+Would you be so unjust in all the principles of correct erudition as to
+expect that, my worthy Man-mountain?"
+
+"I don't expect it," said Frank; "all that's in your head wouldn't fill
+the corner of mine, if you go accordin' to size; but I'll pay you for
+tachin' me as much as you know yourself, an' the more I larn the less
+pains you'll have wid me."
+
+Franky, however, made an amazing progress--so very rapid, indeed, that
+in about three years from that day he found himself in Maynooth, and
+in three years more was an active curate, to whom that very teacher
+appeared as slavishly submissive as if he had never ridiculed his
+vulgarity or ungainly dimensions. Poor Frank, however, in consequence of
+the rapid progress he made, and of the very short interval which elapsed
+from the period of his commencing Latin until that of his ordination,
+was assigned by the people the lowest grade in learning. The term used
+to designate the rank which they supposed him to hold, was both humorous
+and expressive.
+
+"Franky," they would say, "is no finished priest in the larnin'; he's
+but a _scowdher_."
+
+Now a _scowdher_ is an oaten cake laid upon a pair of tongs placed over
+the greeshaugh, or embers, that are spread out for the purpose of baking
+it. In a few minutes the side first laid down is scorched: it is
+then turned, and the other side is also scorched; so that it has the
+appearance of being baked, though it is actually quite raw within. It is
+a homely, but an exceedingly apt illustration, when applied to such men
+as Frank.
+
+"Poor Frank," they would observe, "is but a _scowdher_--the sign of the
+tongs--No. 11, is upon him; so that it is asy known he never was laid
+to the _muddha arran_,"*--that is to say, properly baked--or duly and
+thoroughly educated.
+
+* The _Muddha Arran_ is literally "the bread stick," a term in
+opposition to the _scowdher_. It is a forked stick with three legs, that
+stands opposite the fire, and supports the cake, which is placed on the
+edge until it is gradually baked. The Scowdher is, for the most part,
+made in cases of hurry.
+
+Denis, however, to resume more directly the thread of our narrative, on
+finding himself mounted, took an inveterate prejudice against walking.
+There was something, he thought, far more dignified in riding than
+in pacing slowly upon the earth, like a common man who had not the
+justification of Latin and Greek for becoming an equestrian. Besides
+this accomplishment, there were also many other habits to be broken
+off, and more genteel ones to be adopted in their place. These were all
+suggested by his rising pride; and, in sooth, they smacked strongly of
+that adroitness with which the Irish priest, and every priest, contrives
+to accomplish the purpose of feeding well through the ostensible medium
+of a different motive.
+
+He accordingly took his father aside one morning, after he had eaten a
+more meagre breakfast that usual, and, after licking his lips, addressed
+him in these words:--
+
+"I think, father, that upon considerating the consequence to which I
+am now entitled, and the degree of respectability which, in my own
+person--_in propria persona_--I communicate to the vulgarians with whom
+I am connected--I call them vulgarians from no derogatory motive;
+but you will concede yourself, that they are ignorant of the larned
+languages, an' consequently, though dacent enough, still, in reference
+to Latin and Greek, but vulgarians. Well! _Quid multis?_--I say, that
+taking all these things into speculation, looking at them--_veluti in
+speculum_--it is neither dacent nor becoming that I should ate in the
+manner I have done, as vulgarly as themselves--that I should ate, I
+say, any longer, without knife and fork. Neither, I announce, shall I
+in future drink my milk any longer, as I have with all humility done
+hitherto, out of a noggin; nor continue to disrobe, my potatoes any
+longer without a becoming instrument. I must also have better viands
+to consume. You are not to be ininformed that I am in that situation of
+life, in which, from my education and other accomplishments, I must be
+estimated as duly qualified to ate beef and mutton instead of bacon,
+an' to have my _tay_ breakfast instead of stirabout, which, in
+polite society, is designated porridge. You know yourself, and must
+acknowledge, that I'm soon likely to confer distinction and preeminence
+upon the poor illiterate, but honest creatures, with whom I am
+associated in the bonds of blood-relationship. If I were a dunce, or a
+booby, or a leather head, the case might be different; but you yourself
+are well acquainted with my talents of logic and conthroversy; an' I
+have sound rasons and good authority, which I could quote, if necessary,
+for proving that nothing increases the weight of the brain, and
+accelerates to gravity and solidity more than good feeding. Pay
+attention, therefore, to my words, for I expect that they will be duly
+observed:--buy me a knife and fork; and when I get them, it's not to lay
+them past to rust, you consave. The beef and mutton must follow; and
+in future I'm resolved to have my _tay_ breakfast. There are geese,
+and turkeys, and pullets enough about the yard, and I am bent on
+accomplishing myself in the art of carving them. I'm not the man now
+to be placed among the other riff-raff' of the family over a basket of
+potatoes, wid a black clerical coat upon me, and a noggin of milk under
+my arm! I tell you the system must be changed: the schoolmaster is
+abroad, and I'll tolerate such vulgarity no longer. Now saddle the horse
+till I ride across the bog to Pether Rafferty's Station, where I'm to
+sarve mass; plase heaven, I'll soon be able to say one myself, and give
+you all a lift in spirituals--ehem!"
+
+"Throth, Dinny, I b'lieve you're right, avick; and----"
+
+"Vick me no longer, father--that's another thing I forgot. It's full
+time that I should be sirred; and if my own relations won't call me Sir
+instead of Dinny, it's hardly to be expected that strangers will do it.
+I wish to goodness you had never stigmatized me wid so vulgar an epithet
+as Dinny. The proper word is Dionysius; and, in future, I'll expect to
+be called Misther Dionysius."
+
+"Sure, I or your mother needn't be sirrin' you, Dinny?"
+
+"I haven't made up my mind as to whether I'll demand that proof of
+my respectability from you and my mother, or not; but on this I'm
+immovable, that instead of Dinny, you must, as I said, designate me
+Dionysius."
+
+"Well, well, avourneen, I suppose only it's right you wouldn't be axin'
+us; but I'm sure your poor mother will never be able to get her tongue
+about Dionnisis, it's so long and larned a word."
+
+"It is a larned word, no doubt; but she must persevere until she's able
+to masther it. I wouldn't for three tenpennies that the priest would
+hear one of you call me Dinny; it would degradate me very much in his
+estimation. At all events, if my mother cannot manage the orthography of
+Dionysius, let it be Denis, or anything but that signature of vulgarity,
+Dinny. Now, father, you won't neglect to revale what I've ordered to the
+family?"
+
+"No, indeed, I will not, avick--I mane--Dionnisis, avourneen--I'll tell
+them everything as you ordhered; but as to Dionnisis, I'm cock sure that
+poor Mave will never be able to get her ould tongue about so newfangled
+a piece of larnin' as that is. Well, well, this knowledge bates the
+world!"
+
+When the horse was saddled, and Dionysius on his way with all due pomp
+to the Station, old Denis broke the matter to his wife.
+
+"Mave, achora," said,he, "I have sthrange news to tell you: sure
+Dionnisis is goin' to make himself a gintleman."
+
+"Sure what?"
+
+"Dionnisis, our son Dionnisis, is goin' to make himself a gintleman;
+he'll ate no longer widout a knife and fork."
+
+"Saints about us!" exclaimed Mave, rising and looking with alarm into
+her husband's face--"saints about us, Denis, what is it ails you? Sure
+there would be nothin' wrong wid you about the head, Denis? or maybe
+it's a touch of a faver you've got, out riddling that corn bare-headed,
+yistherday? I remimber the time my Aunt Bridget tuck the scarlet faver,
+she begun to rave and spake foolish in the same way."
+
+"Why, woman, if your Aunt Bridget had a faver made up of all the colors
+in the rainbow, I tell you I'm spakin' sinse! Our son Dionnisis proved
+himself a gintleman out in the garden wid me about an hour ago."
+
+"I suppose so, Denis," she replied, humoring' him, for she was still
+doubly convinced that he labored under some incipient malady, if not
+under actual insanity; "an' what son is this, Dinny? I've never heard of
+him before."
+
+"Our son Denis, woman alive! You must know he's not to be called Dinny
+or Dinis any more, but Dionnisis; he's to begin atin' wid a knife an'
+fork to-morrow; we must get him beef and mutton, and a _tay_ breakfast.
+He say's it's not fair play in any one that's so deep read in the
+larnin' as he is, to ate like a vulgarian, or to peel his phaties wid
+his fingers, an' him knows so much Latin an' Greek; an' my sowl to
+happiness but he'll stick to the gintlemanly way of livin', so far as
+the beef, an' mutton, and tay is consamed."
+
+"He will! An', Dinis O'Shaughnessy, who has a betther right to turn
+gintleman, nor the gorsoon that studied for that! Isn't it proud you
+ought to be that he has the spirit to think of sich things?"
+
+"I'll engage, Mave, on that point you'll find him spirited enough; for
+my part, I don't begrudge him what he wants; but I heard the people say,
+that no man's a gintleman who's not College-bred; and you know he's not
+that yet."
+
+"You forget that he has gentle blood in his veins, Denis. There was a
+day when my family, the Magennises, held their heads up; and Kolumkill
+says that the same time is to come back agin to all the ould families.
+Who knows if it's altogether from himself he's takin' to the beef an'
+mutton, but from prophecy; he knows what he's about, I'll warrant him.
+For our part, it's not right for us to cross him in it; it's for the
+good of the church, no doubt, an' we might lose more by a blast upon the
+corn or the cattle, than he'd ate the other way. That's my dhrame out
+that I had last night about him. I thought we were all gother somewhere
+that I can't rightly remimber; but anyhow there was a great sight of
+people in it, an' high doin's goin' an in the atin' way. I looked
+about me, an' seen ever so many priests dressed all like the Protestant
+clargy; our Dinis was at the head of them, wid a three-cocked hat, an'
+a wig upon him; he was cuttin' up beef an' mutton at the rate of a
+weddin', an' dhrinkin' wine in metherfuls."
+
+"'Musha, Dinis,' says myself, 'what's all this for?'
+
+"'Why,' says he, 'it's all for the good of the church an' the faithful.
+I'm now Archbishop of the county,' says he; 'the Protestants are all
+banished, an' we are in their place.'
+
+"The sorra one o' myself all this time but thought he was a priest
+still; so says I, 'Dinny, you're a wantin' to anoint Paddy Diarmud,
+who's given over, an' if you don't I make haste, you won't overtake
+him?'
+
+"'He must wait then till mornin',' says Dinny; 'or if he chooses to
+die against my will, an' the will o' the church, let him take the
+quensequences. Were wealthy now.'
+
+"I was so much frightened at the kind of voice that he spoke to me in,
+that I awoke; an' sure enough, the first thing I heard was the fizzin'
+o' bacon on the pan. I wondered! who could be up so early, an' puttin'
+my head through the door, there was Dinny busy at it, wid an ould knife
+in one hand, an' an iron skiver in the other imitatin' a fork.
+
+"'What are you doin' so early, Dinny?' says I.
+
+"'I'm practisin',' says he.
+
+"'What for?' says I.
+
+"'Oh, I'm practisin',' says he, back again, 'go to bed; I'm practisin'
+for the church, an' the Station that's to be in Pether Rafferty's
+to-day.'
+
+"Now, Dinny, between you an' me, that dhrame didn't come for nothin'. So
+give the gorsoon his way, an' if he chooses to be a gintleman, why let
+him; he'll be the more honor to thim that reared him."
+
+"Thrue for you, indeed,--Mave; he always had a high spirit ever since
+he was intinded for the robes, and would have his own way and will in
+whatever he took into his head, right or wrong, as cleverly as if he had
+the authority for it."
+
+"An' so he ought, seein' he wasn't to be slavin' at the spade, like the
+rest o' the family. The ways o' them that have great larnin' as he has,
+isn't like other people's ways--they must be humored, and have their own
+will, otherwise what 'ud they be betther than their neighbors?"
+
+The other arrangements laid down by Denis, touching his determination
+not to be addressed so familiarly by his brothers and sisters, were next
+discussed in this conversation, and, of course, the same prejudice in
+his favor was manifested by his indulgent parents. The whole code of his
+injunctions was subsequently disclosed to the family in all its extent
+and rigor. Some of them heard it with surprise, and other with that kind
+of dogged indignation evinced by those who are in some degree prepared
+for the nature of the communication about to be laid before them.
+Altogether, the circumstances in which it placed them were peculiar and
+embarrassing. The Irish peasant can seldom bear to have the tenderness
+of domestic affection tampered with, whether from pride, caprice, or
+any other motive not related to his prejudices. In this instance the
+strongest feelings of the O'Shaughnessys were brunted, as it were, in
+hostile array against each other; and although the moral force on each
+side was nearly equal, still the painful revulsion produced by Denis's
+pride, as undervaluing their affection, and substituting the cold forms
+of artificial life for the warmth of honest hearts like theirs, was, in
+the first burst of natural fervor, strongly, and somewhat indignantly
+expressed.
+
+Denis had been their pride, the privileged person among them--the
+individual whose talents were to throw lustre upon a nameless and
+unknown family; the future priest--the embryo preacher of eminence--the
+resistless controversialist--the holy father confessor--and, perhaps,
+for with that vivacity of imagination peculiar to the Irish, they could
+scarcely limit his exaltation--perhaps the bishop of a whole diocese.
+Had not the Lord Primate himself been the son of as humble a man? "And
+who knows," said his youngest and fairest sister, who of all the family
+was most devoted to him, "but Dinny might yet be a primate?" And as she
+spoke, the tear of affection, pride, and enthusiasm glistened in her
+eye. Denis, therefore, had been much, even in his youth, to their simple
+hearts, and far more to their hopes and expectations, than he was in all
+the pride of his petty polemics; but when he, before whose merits, both
+real and imaginary, every heart among them bowed as before the shrine of
+a tutelar saint, turned round, ere the destined eminence he aimed at was
+half attained, and laid upon their fervent affection the icy chain of
+pride and worldly etiquette--the act was felt keenly and unexpectedly as
+the acute spasm of some sudden malady. The father and mother, however,
+both, defended him with great warmth; and by placing his motives in that
+point of view which agreed best with their children's prejudices, they
+eventually succeeded in reconciling his brothers and sisters in some
+degree to the necessity of adopting the phraseology he proposed--that
+they might treat him with suitable respect in the eye of the world.
+
+"It's proud of him we ought to be," said his father, "and delighted that
+he has sich a risin' spirit; an' sure the more respect is paid to him
+the greater credit he will be to ourselves."
+
+"But, sure he has no right," said his eldest brother, "to be settin' up
+for a gentleman till he's priested. I'm willin' enough to sir him, only
+that it cuts me more than I'll say, to think that I must be callin' the
+boy that I'd spill the dhrop of my blood for, afther I the manner of a
+sthranger; and besides," he added, "I'm not clear but the neighbors
+will be passin' remarks upon us, as they did when you and he used to be
+arguin'."
+
+"I'd like to see them that 'ud turn it into a joke," said his father;
+"I would let them know that Dinis O'Shaughnessy's dog is neither to be
+made or meddled wid in a disrespectful manner, let alone his son. We are
+not widout friends and connections that 'ud take our quarrel upon them
+in his defince, if there was a needcessity for it; but there will not,
+for didn't my heart lep the other day to my throat wid delight, when I
+saw Larry Neil put his hand to his hat to him, comin' up the Esker upon
+the mare; and may I never do an ill turn, if he didn't answer the bow to
+Larry, as if he was the priest of the parish already. It's the wondher
+of the world how he picks up a jinteel thing any how, an' ever did,
+since he was the hoith o' that."
+
+"Why," said the mother, "what a norration yez rise about thratin' the
+boy as every one like him ought to be thrated. Wait till ye see him a
+parish priest, and then yell be comin' round him to get your daughters
+to keep house for him, and your sons edicated and made priests of; but
+now that the child takes a ginteel relish for beef and mutton, and wants
+to be respected, ye are mane an' low spirited enough to grumble about
+it."
+
+"No mother," said his youngest sister, bursting into tears, "I'd beg it
+for him, sooner nor he should want; but I can't bear to be callin' my
+brother Dinny--sir--like a stranger. It looks as if I didn't love him,
+or as if he was forgettin' us, or carin' less about us nor he used to
+do."
+
+This, in fact, was the root and ground of the opposition which Denis's
+plan received at the hands of his relations; it repressed the cordial
+and affectionate intercourse which had hitherto subsisted between them;
+but the pride of life, and, what is more, the pride of an office which
+ought always to be associated with humility, had got into his heart; the
+vanity of learning, too, thin and shallow though it was, inflated him;
+and the effect of both was a gradual induration of feeling--an habitual
+sense of his own importance, and a notion of supreme contempt for all
+who were more ignorant than himself.
+
+After the first impression of pain and mortification had passed away
+from the minds of his brothers and sisters, it was, however, unanimously
+admitted that he was right; and ere long, no other feeling than one of
+good-humor, mingled with drollery, could be perceived among them. They
+were clearly convinced, that he claimed no more from strangers than was
+due to him; but they certainly were not prepared to hear that he had
+brought the exactions of personal respect so completely and unexpectedly
+home to themselves as he had done. The thing, too, along with being
+unreasonable, was awkward and embarrassing in the extreme; for there is
+a kind of feeling among brothers and sisters, which, though it cannot
+be described, is very trying to their delicacy and shamefacedness under
+circumstances of a similar nature. In humble life you will see a
+married woman who cannot call her husband after his Christian name; or
+a husband, who, from some extraordinary restraint, cannot address his
+wife, except in that distant manner which the principle I allude to
+dictates, and habit confirms.
+
+Denis, however, had overcome this modesty, and felt not a whit too
+shamefaced to arrogate to his own learning and character the most
+unhesitating manifestation of their deference and respect, and they soon
+scrupled not to pay it.
+
+The night of that evening was pretty far advanced, when a neighbor's
+son, named Condy Callaghan, came to inform the family, that Denis, when
+crossing the bog on his way home, had rode into a swamp, from which he
+found much difficulty in extricating himself, but added, "the mare is
+sunk to the saddle-skirts, and cannot get out widout men and ropes,"
+In a short time a sufficient number of the neighbors were summoned
+together, and proceeded to the animal's relief. Denny's importance, as
+well as his black dress, was miserably tarnished; he stood, however,
+with as dignified an air as possible, and, in a bombastic style,
+proceeded to direct the men as to the best manner of relieving her.
+
+"Asy, Dinny," said his brother, with a good-humored but significant
+smile--"larning may be very good in its place; in the mane time, lave
+the business in our hands rather than in your own head--or if you have
+e'er a scrap of Greek or Latin that 'ud charm ould Sobersides out, where
+was the use of sendin' for help?"
+
+"I say," replied Dennis, highly offended, "I'll not tolerate vulgarity
+any longer; you must larn to address me in a more polite style. If the
+animal--that purblind quadruped--walked into the mire, by what logic
+can you produce an association between her blindness and my knowledge of
+Latin and Greek? But why do I degradate my own consequence by declaiming
+to you an eulogium upon logic? It's only throwing pearls before swine."
+
+"I didn't mane to offind you," replied the warm-hearted brother; "I
+meant you no offince in what I said, so don't take it ill--we'll have
+Sobersides out in no time--and barrin' an extra rubbin' down to both of
+you, neither will be the worse, I hope."
+
+"As to what you hope or despair, Brian, it could produce no other
+impression on the subtility of my fancy than pity for the man who could
+compare me--considering the brilliancy of my career, and the extent of
+my future speculations--to a quadruped like Sobersides, by asserting
+that I, as well as she, ought to be rubbed down! And were it not that I
+confront the offince with your own ignorance, I would expose you before
+the townland in which we stand; ay, to the whole parish--but I spare
+you, out of respect to my own consequence."
+
+"I ax your pardon," said the brother, "I won't offind you in the same
+way again. What I said, I said to you as I thought a brother might--I ax
+your pardon!"
+
+There was a slight agitation approaching to a tremor in his brother's
+voice, that betokened sorrow for his own impropriety in too familiarly
+addressing Denis, and perhaps regret that so slight and inoffensive a
+jest should have been so harshly received in the presence of strangers,
+by a brother who in reality had been his idol. He reflected upon the
+conversation held on that morning in the family, touching Denny's
+prerogative in claiming a new and more deferential deportment from them
+all; and he could not help feeling that there was in it a violation of
+some natural principle long sacred to his heart. But the all-prevading
+and indefinite awe felt for that sacerdotal character into which his
+brother was about to enter, subdued all, and reconciled him to those
+inroads upon violated Nature, despite her own voice, loudly expressed as
+it was in his bosom.
+
+When the family was once more assembled that night, Denis addressed them
+in a tone, which implied that the _odium theologicum_ had not prevented
+the contrition expressed by his brother from altogether effacing from
+his mind the traces of his offence.
+
+"Unworthy of respect," he proceeded, "as it appears by some of my
+relations I am held," and he glanced at his brother, "yet I beg
+permission to state, that our worthy parochial priest, or I should
+rather say, the Catholic Rector of this parish, is of a somewhat
+different habit of thought or contemplation. I dined with him
+to-day--ehem--dined with him upon an excellent joint of mutton--I say,
+father--the mutton was good--and with his proud, pertinacious curate,
+whom I do not at all relish; whether, as Homer says--I enumerate his
+scurrilous satire, or his derogatory insinuations. His parochial pastor
+and spiritual superior is a gentleman, or, as Horace says, _homo factus
+ad unguem_--which is paraphrastically--every inch a gentleman--or more
+literally, a gentleman to the tops of his fingers--ehem--hem--down to
+the very nails--as it were.
+
+"Well--having discussed that--_observatis observandis, quoad
+sacerdolem_--having passed my eulogium upon Father Finnerty--upon my
+word and credit though, punch is _prima facie_ drink--and father, that
+brings me to remember an omission which I committed in my dialogue with
+you this morning. I forgot to say, that after my dinner, in the manner I
+expounded to you, it will be necessary to have a tumbler of punch--for,
+as Father Finnerty says, there is nothing which so effectually promotes
+the organs of digestion. Now, my introduction of this, in the middle
+of my narrative, is what the hypercritics call a Parenthesis, which
+certainly betrays no superficial portion of literary perusal on my part,
+if you could at all but understand it as well as Father Finnerty, our
+Worthy parochial incumbent, does. As for the curate, should I ever come
+to authority in the Irish hierarchy, I shall be strongly disposed to
+discountenance him; if it were only for his general superciliousness of
+conduct. So there's another clause disposed of.
+
+"Well--to proceed--I say I have intelligence regarding myself, that will
+be by no means unsavory to you all. Father Finnerty and I had, about
+an hour before dinner this day, a long and tedious conversation, the
+substance of which was my future celebrity in the church. He has a claim
+on the Bishop, which he stated to me will be exercised in my favor,
+although there are several candidates for it in this parish, not one of
+whom, however, is within forty-five degree's of being so well qualified
+for college as myself. Father, is there not a jar--an _amphora_--as that
+celebrated satirist Juvenile has it--an _amphora_--in the chimly-brace,
+filled with liquor--get it, and let us _inter animosity_--I'll not be
+long a member of the domestic circle with you--so, upon the basis of the
+communication I have to make, let us, as I said, be--become sextons to
+animosity and care. 'Dionysius,' said Father Finnerty, addressing me,
+which shows, at all events, that I am not so unimportant as some of my
+friends would suppose--'Dionysius,' said he '_inter nos_--between
+you and me, I believe I have it in my power to send up a candidate to
+Maynooth. 'Tis true, I never make a promise--_nunquam facio votum_,
+except in certain cases, or, in other words, Dionysius, _exceptis
+excipiendis_--in which is the essence, as it were, of a proper vow.' In
+the meantime he proceeded--'With regard to your prospects in the church,
+I can only say, in the first place, and I say it with much truth and
+sincerity--that I'm badly off for a horse; that, however, is, as I said,
+_inter nos--sub sigillo_. The old garran I have is fairly worn out--and,
+not that I say it, your father has as pretty a colt as there is within
+the bounds--_intra terminos parochii mei_, within the two ends of my
+parish: _verbum sat_--which is, I'm sure you're a sensible and discreet
+young man. Your father, Dionysius, is a parishioner whom I regard and
+esteem to the highest degree of comparison, and you will be pleased to
+report my eulogium to himself and to his dacent family--and proud may
+they be of having so brilliant a youth among them as you are--ehem!'
+
+"Now, you may all think that this was plain conversation; but I had read
+too much for that. In fact, it was logic--complate, convincing logic,
+every word of it. So I responded to him in what is called in the books,
+the _argumentum ad crumenam_; although I question but it ought to be
+designated here the _argumentum ad bestiam_. Said I, 'Father Finnerty,
+the colt, my paternal property, which you are pleased to eulogize so
+highly, is a good one; it was designed for myself when I should come
+out on the mission; however, I will undertake to say, if you get me
+into Maynooth, that my father, on my authority, will lend you the colt
+tomorrow, and the day of his claiming it will be dependent upon the
+fulfilment of your promise or _votum_.'
+
+"'_Signatum et sigttlatum est_,' said he--for, indeed, the best part
+of the discussion was conducted in Latin; 'and now,' he continued, 'my
+excellent Dionysius, nothing remains but that the colt be presented--'
+
+--"'Lent,' I responded, correcting him, 'you see, even although he was
+the priest--'lent,' said I; 'and your Reverence will be good enough to
+give the _votum_ before one or two of my friends.'
+
+"He looked at me sharply, not expecting to find such deep logic in one
+he conjectured to be but a tyro.
+
+"'You will be a useful man in the church,' he added, 'and you deserve to
+be pushed on at all events. In the meantime, tell your father that I'll
+ride up and breakfast with him to-morrow, and he can have a friend or
+two to talk over the _compactum_.'
+
+"So, father, there's the state of the question at present; the
+accomplishment of the condition is dependent upon yourself."
+
+My readers may perceive that Denis, although a pedant, was not a fool.
+It has been said that no man is a hero to his _valet-de-chambre_; but
+I think the truth of the sentiment contained in that saying is
+questionable. Denis, on the contrary, was nowhere so great a man as in
+his own chimney-corner, surrounded by his family. It was there he was
+learned, accomplished, profound; next to that, he was great among those
+who, although not prejudiced in his favor by the bonds of affection,
+were too ignorant to discover those literary pranks which he played off,
+because he knew he could do so without detection. The basis, however, of
+his character was shrewd humor and good sense; and even at the stage of
+life which we have just described, it might have been evident to a close
+observer that, when a proper knowledge of his own powers, joined to a
+further acquaintance with the world, should enable him to cast off the
+boyish assumption of pedantry, a man of a keen, ready intellect and
+considerable penetration would remain.
+
+Many of my readers may be inclined to exclaim that the character of
+Denny is not to be found in real life; but they are mistaken who think
+so. They are not to suppose that Denis O'Shaughnessy was the same person
+in his intercourse with intelligent men and scholars, that he appeared
+among the illiterate peasantry, or his own relations. Far from it. With
+the former, persons like him are awkward and bashful, or modest and
+unassuming, according to the bent of their natural disposition. With
+scholars Denis made few pretensions to superior knowledge; but, on the
+contrary, took refuge, if he dreaded a scrutiny into his acquirements,
+in the humblest acknowledgment of his limited reading, and total
+unacquaintance with those very topics on which he was, under other
+circumstances, in the habit of expatiating so fluently. In fact, were
+I to detail some of the scenes of his exhibitions as they were actually
+displayed, then I have no doubt I might be charged with coloring too
+highly.
+
+When Denis had finished the oration from the chimney-corner, delivered
+with suitable gesticulations while he stood drying himself at the fire
+after the catastrophe of the swamp, a silence of some minutes followed.
+The promise of the colt made to the priest with such an air of
+authority, was a finale which the father did not expect, and by which he
+was not a little staggered.
+
+"I could like it all very well," replied the father, "save an' except
+givin' away the coult that's worth five-an'-twenty guineas, if he's
+worth a _'crona-bawn_. To tell the blessed thruth, Dinis, if you had
+settled the business widout _that_, I'd be betther plased."
+
+"Just exercise your contemplation upon it for a short period," replied
+Denis, "and you will perceive that I stipulated to lend him before
+witnesses; and if Father Finnerty does not matriculate me into Maynooth,
+then do you walk down some brilliant morning or other, and take your
+baste by the head, direct yourself home, hold the bridle as you proceed,
+and by the time you're at the rack, you'll find the horse at the manger.
+I have now stated the legality of the matter, and you may act as your
+own subtility of perception shall dictate. I have laid down the law, do
+you consider the equity."
+
+"Why," said the father, "if I thought he would get you into"--
+
+"Correct, quite correct: the cardinal point there is the if. If he
+does, give him the horse; but if not, reclaim the quadruped without
+hesitation. I am not to be kept back, if profundity and erudition can
+substantiate a prospect. Still, father, the easiest way is the safest,
+and the shortest the most expeditious."
+
+The embarrassing situation in which the other members of the family
+were placed, imposed upon them a profound silence, in reference to
+the subject of conversation. Yet, while Denny delivered the aforesaid
+harangue from the chimney-corner, every eye was fixed upon him with an
+expression of pride and admiration which escaped not his own notice.
+Their deportment towards him was affectionate and respectful; but none
+of them could so far or so easily violate old habits as to address him
+according to his own wishes; they therefore avoided addressing him at
+all.
+
+The next morning Father Finnerty paid them his purposed visit, and,
+as he had promised, arrived in time for breakfast. A few of Denis's
+relations were assembled, and in their presence the arrangements
+respecting the colt and Denny's clerical prospects were privately
+concluded. So far everything was tight; the time of Denny's departure
+for Maynooth was to be determined by the answer which Father Finnerty
+should receive from the bishop; for an examination must, of course,
+take place, which was to be conducted by the prelate, or by some other
+clergyman appointed for that purpose. This and the necessary preparation
+usual on such occasions, were the only impediments in the way of his
+departure for Maynooth, a place associated with so many dreams of that
+lowly ambition which the humble circumstances of the peasantry permit
+them to entertain.
+
+The Irish people, I need scarcely observe, are a poor people; they are,
+also, very probably, for the same reason, an imaginative people; at all
+events, they are excited by occurrences which would not produce the same
+vivacity of emotion which they experience upon any other people in the
+world. This, after all, is but natural; a long endurance of hunger
+will render the coarsest food delicious; and, on the contrary, when the
+appetite is glutted with the richest viands, it requires a dish whose
+flavor is proportionably high and spicy to touch the jaded palate. It
+is so with our moral enjoyments. In Ireland, a very simple accession to
+their hopes or comforts produces an extraordinary elevation of mind,
+and so completely unlocks the sluices of their feelings, that every
+consideration is lost in the elation of the moment. At least it was so
+in Denis O'Shaughnessy's family upon this occasion.
+
+No sooner had Father Finnerty received the colt, and pledged himself
+that Denny should have the place at Maynooth that was then vacant, than
+a tumultuous expression of delight burst from his family and relations,
+business was then thrown aside for the day; the house was scoured and
+set in order, as if it were for a festival; their best apparel was
+put on; every eye was bright, every heart throbbed with a delightful
+impulse, whilst kindness and hilarity beamed from their faces. In
+a short time they all separated themselves among their neighbors to
+communicate the agreeable tidings; and the latter, with an honest
+participation in their happiness, instantly laid aside their avocations,
+and flocked to Denis O'Shaughnessy's, that they might congratulate him
+and his friends upon what was considered the completion of their hopes.
+When the day was more advanced, several of Denny's brothers and sisters
+returned, and the house was nearly filled with their acquaintances and
+relations. Ere one o'clock had passed they wore all assembled, except
+old Denis, of whom, no person could give any intelligence. Talk, loud
+laughter, pure poteen, and good-humor, all circulated freely? the
+friendly neighbor unshaved, and with his Sunday coat thrown hastily over
+his work-day apparel, drank to Denny's health, and wished that he might
+"bate all Maynewth out of the face; an' sure there's no doubt of
+that, any how--doesn't myself remimber him puttin' the explanations to
+Pasthorini before he was the bulk o' my fist?" His brothers and sisters
+now adopted with enthusiasm the terms of respect which he had prescribed
+for them through his father; he was Sirred and Misthered, and all but
+Reverenced, with a glow of affectionate triumph which they strove not
+to conceal. He was also overwhelmed with compliments of all hues
+and complexions: one reminded him of the victory he obtained over a
+hedge-schoolmaster who came one Sunday a distance of fifteen miles to
+sack him in English Grammar on the chapel-green; but as the man was no
+classical scholar, "Sure," observed his neighbor, "I remember well that
+he couldn't get a word out of Misther Denis's head there but Latin; so
+that the poor crathur, afther travellin' fifteen long miles, had to go
+home agin, the show o' the world, widout undherstandin' a sintence
+of the larnin' that was put an him; an' so here's wishin' you health,
+Misther Dinis, agra, an' no fear in life but you'll be the jewel at the
+prachin,' sir, plase Goodness!"
+
+Another reminded him of "how often he proved Phaidrick Murray to be an
+ass, and showed him how he couldn't make out the differ atween black an'
+white."
+
+"Sure, an' he did," said Phadrick, scratching his head, for he was
+one of the first at the house; "an' no wondher, wid his long-headed
+screwtations from the books. Throth, his own father was the best match,
+barrin' Father Lawdher that was broke of his bread, he ever met wid,
+till he got too many for him by the Latin an' Greek."
+
+This allusion to old Denis occasioned his absence to be noticed.
+
+"Can nobody tell where Denis More is?" said the wife; "my gracious, but
+it's quare he should be from about the place this day, any way. Brian,
+mavourneen, did you see him goin' any where?
+
+"No," said Brian, "but I see him comin' down there carryin' some
+aitables in a basket."
+
+Brian had scarcely ended when his father entered, bearing beef and
+mutton, as aforesaid, both of which he deposited upon the kitchen table,
+with a jerk of generosity and pride, that seemed to say, as he looked
+significantly at Denny--and, in fact, as he did say afterwards--"Never
+spare, Dinny; ate like a gintleman; make yourself as bright an' ginteel
+as you can; you won't want for beef an' mutton!"
+
+Old Denis now sat down, and, after wiping the perspiration from his
+forehead, took the glass of poteen which the wife handed him: he held it
+between his finger and thumb for a moment, glanced around him upon the
+happy faces present, then laid it down again, fixed his eyes upon his
+son, and cast them once more upon the company. The affectionate father's
+heart was full; his breast heaved, and the large tears rolled slowly
+down his cheeks. By a strong effort, however, he mastered his emotion;
+and taking the glass again, he said in broken voice:--
+
+"Neighbors!--God bless yez!--God bless yez!--Dinny--Dinny--I"--
+
+The last words he pronounced with difficulty; and drinking off his
+glass, set it down empty upon the table. He then rose up, and shook his
+neighbors by the hand--
+
+"I am," said he, "a happy man, no doubt of it, an' we're all happy; an'
+it's proud any father might be to hear the account of his son, that I
+did of mine, as I was convoyin' Father Finnerty a piece o' the way home.
+'Your son,' says he, when he took that bit of a coult out o' my hand,
+'will be an honor to you all. I tell you,' says he, 'that he's nearly as
+good a scholar, as myself, an' spakes Latin not far behind my own; an'
+as for a pracher,' says he, 'I can tell you that he'll be hard farther
+nor any man I know.' He tould me them words wid his own two lips. An'
+surely, neighbors," said he, relapsing into strong feeling, "you can't
+blame me for bein' both proud and happy of sich a son."
+
+My readers, from the knowledge already given them of Denny's character,
+are probably disposed to think that his learning was thrown out on this
+occasion in longer words and more copious quotations than usual. This,
+however, was not the case; so far from that, he never displayed less
+pedantry, nor interspersed his conversation with fewer scraps of Latin.
+In fact, the proceedings of the day appeared to affect him with a tone
+of thought, decidedly at variance with the exuberance of joy experienced
+by the family. He was silent, moody, and evidently drawn by some secret
+reflection from the scene around him. He held a book in his hand, into
+which he looked from time to time, with the air of a man who balances
+some contingency in his mind. At length, when the conversation of
+those who were assembled became more loud and boisterous, he watched
+an opportunity of gliding out unperceived; having accomplished this, he
+looked cautiously about him, and finding himself not observed, he turned
+his steps to a glen which lay about half a mile below his father's
+house.
+
+At the lowest skirt of this little valley, protected, by a few spreading
+hawthorns, stood a small white farm-house, more immediately shaded by a
+close row of elder or boor-tree, which hung over one of the gables,
+and covered the garden gate, together with a neat grassy seat, that
+was built between the gate, and the gable. It was impervious to sun
+and rain: one of those pretty spots which present themselves on the
+road-side in the country, and strike the eye with a pleasing notion of
+comfort; especially when, during a summer shower, the cocks and hens of
+the little yard are seen by the traveller who takes shelter under it,
+huddled up in silence, the white dust quite dry, whilst the heavy shower
+patters upon the leaves above, and upon the dark drenched road beside
+him.
+
+Under the shade of this sat an interesting girl, aged about seventeen,
+named Susan Connor. She was slender, and not above the middle size;
+but certainly, in point of form and feature, such as might be called
+beautiful--handsome she unquestionably was; but be that as it may, with
+this rustic beauty the object of Denis's stolen visit was connected. She
+sat knitting under the shade of elder which we have described, a sweet
+picture of innocence and candor. Our hero's face, as he approached her,
+was certainly a fine study for any one who wished to embody the sad and
+the ludicrous. Desperate was the conflict between pedantry and feeling
+which he experienced. His manner appeared more pompous and affected than
+ever; yet was there blended with the flush of approaching triumph as
+a candidate, such woe-begone shades of distress flitting occasionally
+across his feature, as rendered his countenance inscrutably enigmatical.
+
+When the usual interchange of preliminary conversation had passed,
+Denis took his seat beside her on the grassy bench; and after looking
+in several directions, and giving half a dozen hems, he thus accosted
+her:--
+
+"Susan, cream of my affections, I may venture to conjecture that the
+fact, or _factum_, of my being the subject of _fama clamosa_ today, has
+not yet reached your ears?"
+
+"Now, Denis, you are at your deep larning from the books again. Can't
+you keep your reading for them that undherstands it, an' not be spakin'
+so Englified to a simple girl like me?"
+
+"There is logic in that same, however. Do you know, Susan, I have often
+thought that, provided always you had resaved proper instruction, you
+would have made a first-rate classical scholar."
+
+"So you tould me, Denis, the Sunday we exchanged the promise. But sure
+when you get me, I can larn it. Won't you tache me, Denis?"
+
+She turned her laughing eyes archly at him as she spoke, with a look of
+joy and affection: it was a look, indeed, that staggered for the moment
+every ecclesiastical resolution within him. He returned her glance, and
+ran over the features of her pure and beautiful countenance for some
+minutes; then, placing his open hand upon his eyes, he seemed buried in
+reflection. At length he addressed her:--
+
+"Susan, I am thinking of that same Sunday evening on which we exchanged
+the hand-promise. I say, Susan,--_dimidium animae meae_--I am in the
+act of meditating upon it; and sorry am I to be compel--to be under the
+neces--to be reduced, I say--that is redact as in the larned langua--:
+in other words--or terms, indeed, is more elegant--in other terms,
+then, Susan, I fear that what I just now alluded to, touching the _fama
+clamosa_ which is current about me this day, will render that promise a
+rather premature one on both our parts. Some bachelors in my situation
+might be disposed to call it foolish, but I entertain a reverence--a
+veneration for the feelings of the feminine sex, that inclines me to use
+the mildest and most classical language in divulging the change that has
+taken place in my fortunes since I saw you last."
+
+"What do you mane, Denis?" inquired Susan, suddenly ceasing to knit, and
+fixing her eyes upon him with a glance of alarm.
+
+"To be plain, Susy, I find that Maynooth is my destination. It has been
+arranged between my father and Docthor Finnerty, that I must become
+a laborer in the vineyard; that is, that I must become a priest, and
+cultivate the grape. It's a sore revelation to make to an amorous
+maiden; but destiny will be triumphant:--
+
+_Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis_."
+
+The poor girl suddenly laid down the work on which she had been engaged,
+her face became the color of ashes, and the reply she was about to make
+died upon her lips. She again resumed her stocking, but almost instantly
+laid it down a second time, and appeared wholly unable either to believe
+or comprehend what he said.
+
+"Denis," she at length asked, "Did you say that all is to be over
+between us?"
+
+"That was my insinuation," replied Denis, "The fact is, Susy, that
+destiny is adverse; clean against our union in the bonds of matrimonial
+ecstacy. But, Susy, my charmer, I told you before that you were not
+destitute of logic, and I hope you will bear this heavy visitation as
+becomes a philosopher."
+
+"Bear it, Denis! How ought I to bear it, after your saying and swearing,
+too, that neither father, nor mother, nor priest, nor anybody else would
+make you desart me?"
+
+"But, Susan, my nightingale, perhaps you are not aware that there is
+an authority in existence to which father, mother, and all must knuckle
+down. That is the church, Susan. Reflect--_dulce decus meum_--that the
+power of the church is able to loose and unloose, to tie and untie, to
+forgive and to punish, to raise to the highest heaven, or to sink to
+the profoundest Tartarus. That power, Susan, thinks proper to claim your
+unworthy and enamored swain as one of the brightest Colossuses of
+her future glory. The Irish hierarchy is plased to look upon me as a
+luminary of almost superhuman brilliancy and coruscation: my talents
+she pronounces to be of the first magnitude; my eloquence classical and
+overwhelming, and my learning only adorned by that poor insignificant
+attribute denominated by philosophers unfathomability!--hem!--hem!"
+
+"Denis," replied the innocent girl, "you sometimes speak that I can
+undherstand you; but you oftener spake in a way that I can hardly make
+out what you say. If it's a thing that my love for you, or the solemn
+promise that passed between us, would stand in your light, or prevint
+you from higher things as a priest, I am willing to--to--to give you
+up, whatever I may suffer. But you know yourself, that you brought me on
+from time to time undher your promise, that nothing would ever lead
+you to lave me in sorrow an' disappointment. Still, I say, that--But,
+Denis, is it thrue that you could lave me for anything?"
+
+The innocent confidence in his truth expressed by the simplicity of her
+last question, staggered the young candidate; that is to say, her words,
+her innocence, and her affection sank deeply into his heart.
+
+"Susan," he replied, "to tell the blessed truth, I am fairly dilemma'd.
+My heart is in your favor; but--but--hem--you don't know the prospect
+that is open to me. You don't know the sin of keeping back such
+a--a--a--galaxy as I am from the church. I say you don't know the sin of
+it. That's the difficulty. If it was a common case it would be nothing!
+but to keep back a person like me--a _rara avis in terris_--from the
+priesthood, is a sin that requires a great dale of interest with the
+Pope to have absolved."
+
+"Heaven above forgive me!" exclaimed the artless girl. "In that case I
+wouldn't for the riches of the wide earth stand between you and. God.
+But I didn't know that before, Denis; and if you had tould me, I think,
+sooner than get into sich a sin I'd struggle to keep down my love for
+you, even although my heart should break."
+
+"Poor darling," said Denis, taking her passive hand in his, "and would
+it go so hard with you? Break your heart! Do you love me so well as
+that, Susan?"
+
+Susan's eyes turned on him for a moment, and the tears which his
+question drew forth gave it a full and a touching reply. She uttered
+not a word, but after a few deep sobs wiped her eyes, and endeavored to
+compose her feelings.
+
+Denis felt the influence of her emotions; he remained silent for a short
+time, during which, however, ambition drew in the background all those
+dimly splendid visions that associate themselves with the sacerdotal
+functions, in a country where the people place no bounds to the
+spiritual power of their pastors.
+
+"Susan," said he, after a pause, "do you know the difference between a
+Christian and a hathen?"
+
+"Between a Christian an' a hathen? Why aren't hathens all sinners?"
+
+"Very right. Faith, Susan, you would have shone at the classics. You see
+_dilecta cordis mei,_ or, _cordi meo,_ for either is good grammar--you
+see, Susan, the difference between a Christian and a hathen is this:--
+a Christian bears disappointments, with fortitude--with what is
+denominated Christian fortitude; whereas, on the contrary, a hathen
+doesn't bear disappointments at all. Now, Susan, it would cut me to the
+heart to find that you would become a hathen on this touching and trying
+occasion."
+
+"I'll pray to God, Denis. Isn't that the way to act under afflictions?"
+
+"Decidedly. There is no other legitimate mode of quelling a heart-ache.
+And, Susan, when you go to supplication you are at liberty to mention my
+name--no, not yet; but if I were once consecrated you might. However, it
+is better to sink this; say nothing about me when you pray, for, to
+tell you I truth, I believe you have as much influence above--_super
+astra_--as I have. There is one argument which I am anxious to press
+upon you. It is a very simple but a very respectable one after all. I
+am not all Ireland. You will find excellent good husbands even in this
+parish. There is, as the old proverb says, as good fish in the say as
+ever were caught. Do you catch one of them. For me, Susan, the
+vineyard claims me; I must, as I said, cultivate the grape. We must,
+consequently--hem!--we must--hem!--hem!--consequently strive to
+forget--hem!--I say, to forget each other. It is a trial--I know--a
+desperte visitation, poor fawn, upon your feelings; but, as I said,
+destiny will be triumphant. What is decreed, is decreed--I must go to
+Maynooth."
+
+Susan rose, and her eyes flashed with an indignant sense of the
+cold-blooded manner in which he advised her to select another husband.
+She was an illiterate girl, but the purity of her feeling supplied the
+delicacy which reading and a knowledge of more refined society would
+have given her.
+
+"Is it from your lips, Denis," she said, "that I hear sich a mane and
+low-minded an advice? Or do you think that with my weak, and I now see,
+foolish heart, settled upon you, I could turn round and fix my love upon
+the first that might ax me? Denis, you promised before God to be mine,
+and mine only; you often said and swore that you loved me above any
+human being; but I now see that you only intended to lead me into sin
+and disgrace, for indeed, and before God I don't think--I don't--I
+don't--believe that you ever loved me."
+
+A burst of grief, mingled with indignation and affliction, followed the
+words she had uttered. Denis felt himself called on for a vindication,
+and he was resolved to give it.
+
+"Susan," he returned, "your imagination is erroneous. By all the
+classical authors that ever were written, you are antipodialry opposed
+to facts. What harm is there, seeing that you and I can never be joined
+in wedlock--what harm is there, I say, in recommending you another
+husb--"
+
+Susan would hear no more. She gathered up her stocking and ball of
+thread, placed them in her apron, went into her father's house, shut and
+bolted the door, and gave way to violent grief. All this occurred in a
+moment, and Denis found himself excluded.
+
+He did not wish, however, to part from her in anger; so, after having
+attempted to look through the, keyhole of the door, and applied his eye
+in vain to the window, he at length spoke.
+
+"Is there any body within but yourself, Susy?"
+
+He received no reply.
+
+"I say, Susy--_dilecta juventutis meae_--touching the
+recommendation--now don't be crying--touching the recommendation of
+another husband, by all the classics that ever were mistranslated, I
+meant nothing but the purest of consolation. If I did, may I be reduced
+to primeval and aboriginal ignorance! But you know yourself, that they
+never prospered who prevented a _rara avis_ like me from entering the
+church--from laboring in the vineyard, and cultivating the grape. Don't
+be hathenish; but act with a philosophy suitable to so dignified an
+occasion--Farewell! _Macte virtute_, and be firm. I swear again by all
+the class--"
+
+The appearance of a neighbor caused him to cut short his oath. Seeing
+that the man approached the house, he drew off, and returned home, more
+seriously affected by Susan's agitation than he was willing to admit
+even to himself.
+
+This triumph over his affection was, in fact, only the conquest of
+one passion over another. His attachment to Susan Connor was
+certainly sincere, and ere the prospects of his entering Maynooth were
+unexpectedly brought near him, by the interference of Father Finnerty,
+his secret purpose all along had been to enter with her into the state
+of matrimony, rather than into the church. Ambition, however, is beyond
+all comparison the most powerful principle of human conduct, and so
+Denny found it. Although his unceremonious abandonment of Susan appeared
+heartless and cruel, yet it was not effected on his part without
+profound sorrow and remorse. The two principles, when they began to
+struggle in his heart for supremacy, resembled the rival destinies of
+Caesar and Mark Antony. Love declined in the presence of ambition; and
+this, in proportion as all the circumstances calculated to work upon
+the strong imagination of a young man naturally fond of power, began to
+assume an appearance of reality. To be, in the course of a few years,
+a _bona fide_ priest; to possess unlimited sway over the fears and
+principles of the people; to be endowed with spiritual gifts to he knew
+not what extent; and to enjoy himself as he had an opportunity of
+seeing Father Finnerty and his curate do, in the full swing of convivial
+pleasure, upon the ample hospitality of those who, in addition to this,
+were ready to kiss the latchet of his shoes--were, it must be admitted,
+no inconsiderable motives in influencing the conduct of a person reared
+in an humble condition of life. The claims of poor Susan, her modesty,
+her attachment, and her beauty--were all insufficient to prevail against
+such a host of opposing motives; and the consequence, though bitter, and
+subversive of her happiness, was a final determination on the part of
+Denny, to acquaint her, with a kind of _ex-officio_ formality, that
+all intercourse upon the subject of their mutual attachment must cease
+between them. Notwithstanding his boasted knowledge, however, he was
+ignorant of sentiment, and accordingly confined himself, as I have
+intimated, to a double species of argument; that is to say, first, the
+danger and sin of opposing the wishes of the church which had claimed
+him, as he said, to labor in the vineyard; and secondly, the undoubted
+fact, that there were plenty of good husbands besides himself in the
+world, from some one of which, he informed her, he had no doubt, she
+could be accommodated.
+
+In the meantime, her image, meek, and fair, and uncomplaining, would
+from time to time glide into his imagination; and the melody of her
+voice send its music once more to his vaccillating heart. He usually
+paused then, and almost considered himself under the influence of a
+dream; but ambition, with its train of shadowy honors, would immediately
+present itself, and Susan was again forgotten.
+
+When he rejoined the company, to whom he had given the slip, he found
+them all gone, except about six or eight whom his father had compelled
+to stop for dinner. His mind was now much lighter than it had been
+before his interview with Susan, nor were his spirits at all depressed
+by perceiving that a new knife and fork lay glittering upon the dresser
+for his own particular use.
+
+"Why, thin, where have you been all this time," said the father, "an' we
+wantin' to know whether you'd like the mutton to be boiled or roasted!"
+
+"I was soliloquizing in the glen below," replied Denny, once more
+assuming his pedantry, "meditating upon the transparency of all human
+events; but as for the beef and mutton, I advise you to boil the beef,
+and roast the mutton, or vice versa, to boil the mutton, and roast the
+beef. But I persave my mother has anticipated me, and boiled them both
+with that flitch of bacon that's playing the vagrant in the big pot
+there. _Tria juncla in uno_, as Horace says in the Epodes, when
+expatiating upon the Roman Emperors--ehem!"
+
+"Misther Denis," said one of those present, "maybe you'd tell us upon
+the watch, what the hour is, if you plase, sir; myself never can know
+right at all, except by the shadow of the sun from the corner of our own
+gavel."
+
+"Why," replied Denis, pulling it out with much pomp of manner, "it's
+just half-past two to a quarter of a minute, and a few seconds."
+
+"Why thin what a quare thing entirely a watch is," the other continued;
+"now what makes you hould it to your ear, Misther Denis, if you plase?"
+
+"The efficient cause of that, Larry, is, that the drum of the ear,
+you persave--the drum of the ear--is enabled to catch the intonations
+produced by the machinery of its internal operations--otherwise the fact
+of applying it to the ear would be unnecessary--altogether unnecessary."
+
+"Dear me! see what it is to have the knowledge, any way! But isn't it
+quare how it moves of itself like a livin' crathur? How is that, Misther
+Denis?"
+
+"Why, Larry,--ehem--you see the motions of it are--that is--the works
+or operations, are all continually going; and sure it is from that
+explanation that we say a watch goes well. That's more than you ever
+knew before, Larry."
+
+"Indeed it surely is, sir, an' is much oblaged to you, Misther Denis;
+sure if I ever come to wear a watch in my fob, I'll know something about
+it, anyhow."
+
+For the remainder of that day Denis was as learned and consequential
+as ever; his friends, when their hearts were opened by his father's
+hospitality, all promised him substantial aid in money, and in presents
+of such articles as they supposed might be serviceable to him in
+Maynooth. Denny received their proffers of support with suitable dignity
+and gratitude. A scene of bustle and preparation now commenced among
+them, nor was Denny himself the least engaged; for it somehow happened,
+that notwithstanding his profound erudition, he felt it necessary to
+read night or day in order to pass with more eclat the examination which
+he had to stand before the bishop ere his appointment to Maynooth. This
+ordeal was to occur upon a day fixed for the purpose, in the ensuing
+month; and indeed Denis occupied as much of the intervening period in
+study as his circumstances would permit. His situation was, at this
+crisis, certainly peculiar. Every person related to him in the
+slightest degree contrived to revive their relationship; his former
+school-fellows, on hearing that he was actually destined to be of the
+church, renewed their acquaintance with him, and those who had been
+servants to his father, took the liberty of speaking to him upon the
+strength of that fact. No child, to the remotest shade of affinity, was
+born, for which he did not stand godfather; nieces and nephews thickened
+about him, all with remarkable talents, and many of them, particularly
+of the nieces, said to be exceedingly genteel--very thrifty for their
+ages, and likely to make excellent housekeepers. A strong likeness to
+himself was also pointed out in the features of his nephews, one of whom
+had his born nose--another his eyes--and a third again had his brave
+high-flown way with him. In short, he began to feel some of the
+inconveniences of greatness; and, like it, to be surrounded by cringing
+servility and meanness. When he went to the chapel he was beset, and
+followed from place to place, by a retinue of friends who were all
+anxious to secure to themselves the most conspicuous marks of his
+notice. It was the same thing in fair or market; they contended with
+each other who should do him most honor, or afford to him and his
+father's immediate family the most costly treat, accompanied by the
+grossest expressions of flattery. Every male infant born among them was
+called Dionysius; and every female one Susan, after his favorite sister.
+All this, to a lad like Denis, already remarkable for his vanity, was
+very trying; or rather, it absolutely turned his brain, and made him
+probably as finished a specimen of pride, self-conceit, and domineering
+arrogance, mingled with a kind of lurking humorous contempt for his
+cringing relations, as could be displayed in the person of some shallow
+but knavish prime minister, surrounded by his selfish sycophants, whom
+he encourages and despises.
+
+At home he was idolized--overwhelmed with respect and deference. The
+slightest intimation of his wish was a command to them; the beef, and
+fowl, and mutton, were at hand in all the variety of culinary skill,
+and not a soul in the house durst lay a hand upon his knife and fork
+but himself. In the morning, when the family were to be seen around
+the kitchen table at their plain but substantial breakfast, Denis was
+lording it in solitary greatness over an excellent breakfast of tea and
+eggs in another room.
+
+It was now, too, that the king's English, as well as the mutton, was
+carved and hacked to some purpose; epithets prodigiously long and
+foreign to the purpose were pressed into his conversation, for no other
+reason than because those to whom he spoke could not understand them;
+but the principal portion of his time was devoted to study. The bishop,
+he had heard, was a sound scholar, and exceedingly scrupulous in
+recommending any to Maynooth, except such as were well versed in the
+preparatory course. Independently of this, he was anxious, he said, to
+distinguish himself in his examination, and, if possible, to sustain
+as high a character with the bishop and his fellow-students, as he did
+among the peasantry of his own neighborhood.
+
+At length the day approached. The bishop's residence was not distant
+more than a few hours' ride, and he would have sufficient time to arrive
+there, pass his examination, and return in time for dinner. On the eve
+of his departure, old Denis invited Father Finnerty, his curate and
+about a dozen relations and friends, to dine with him the next day;
+when--Denis having surmounted the last obstacle to the accomplishment of
+his hopes--their hearts could open without a single reflection to check
+the exuberance of their pride, hospitality, and happiness.
+
+I have often said to my friends, and I now repeat it in print, that
+after all there is no people bound up so strongly to each other by the
+ties of domestic life as the Irish. On the night which preceded this
+joyous and important day, a spirit of silent but tender affection dwelt
+in every heart of the O'Shaughnessys. The great point of interest was
+Denis. He himself was serious, and evidently labored under that strong
+anxiety so natural to a youth in his circumstances. A Roman Catholic
+bishop, too, is a personage looked upon by the people with a kind of
+feeling that embodies in it awe, reverence, and fear. Though, in this
+country, an humble man possessing neither the rank in society,
+outward splendor, nor the gorgeous profusion of wealth and pomp
+which characterize a prelate of the Established Church; yet it is
+unquestionable that the gloomy dread, and sense of formidable power with
+which they impress the minds of the submissive peasantry, immeasurably
+surpass the more legitimate influence which any Protestant dignitary
+could exercise over those who stand, with respect to him, in a more
+rational and independent position.
+
+It was not surprising that Denis, who practised upon ignorant people
+that petty despotism for which he was so remarkable, should now,
+on coming in contact with great spiritual authority, adopt his own
+principles, and relapse from the proud pedant into the cowardly slave.
+True it is that he presented a most melancholy specimen of independence
+in a crisis where moral courage was so necessary; but his dread of the
+coming day was judiciously locked up in his own bosom. His silence and
+apprehension were imputed to the workings of a mind learnedly engaged in
+arranging the vast stores of knowledge with which it was so abundantly
+stocked; his moody picture of the bishop's brow; his reflection that he
+was going before so sacred a person, as a candidate for the church,
+with his heart yet redolent of earthly affection for Susan Connor; his
+apprehension that the bishop's spiritual scent might sagaciously smell
+it out, were all put down by the family to the credit of uncommon
+learning, which, as his mother observed truly, "often makes men do quare
+things." His embarrassments, however, inasmuch as they were ascribed
+by them to wrong causes, endeared him more to their hearts than ever.
+Because he spoke little, neither the usual noise nor bustle of a large
+family disturbed the silence of the house; every word was uttered that
+evening in a low tone, at once expressive of tenderness and respect. The
+family supper was tea, in compliment to Denis; and they all partook of
+it with him. Nothing humbles the mind, and gives the natural feelings
+their full play, so well as a struggle in life, or the appearance of its
+approach.
+
+"Denis," said the father, "the time will come when we won't have you at
+all among us; but, thank goodness, you'll be in a betther place."
+
+Denis heard him not, and consequently made no reply.
+
+"They say Maynewth's a tryin' place, too," he continued, "an' I'd be
+sorry to see him pulled down to anatomy, like some of the scarecrows
+that come qut of it. I hope you'll bear it betther."
+
+"Do you speak to me?" said Denis, awaking out of a reverie.
+
+"I do, sir," replied the father; and as he uttered the words the son
+perceived that his eyes were fixed upon him with an expression of
+affectionate sorrow and pride.
+
+The youth was then in a serious mood, free from all the dominion of that
+learned mania under which he had so frequently signalized himself: the
+sorrow of his father, and a consciousness of the deep affection and
+unceasing kindness which he had ever experienced from him, joined to
+a recollection of their former friendly disputes and companionship,
+touched Denny to the quick. But the humility with which he applied
+to him the epithet sir, touched him most. What! thought he--ought my
+affectionate father to be thrown to such a distance from a son, who
+owes everything to his love and goodness! The thought of his stooping so
+humbly before him smote the boy's heart, and the tears glistened in his
+eyes.
+
+"Father," said he, "you have been kind and good to me, beyond my
+deserts; surely then I cannot bear to hear you address me in that
+manner, as if we were both strangers. Nor while I am with you, shall
+any of you so address me. Remember that I am still your son and their
+brother."
+
+The natural affection displayed in this speech soon melted the whole
+family into tears--not excepting Denis himself, who felt that grief
+which we experience when about to be separated for the first time from
+those we love.
+
+"Come over, avourneen," said his mother, drying her eyes with the corner
+of her check apron: "come over, _acushla machree_, an' sit beside me:
+sure although we're sorry for you, Denis, it's proud our hearts are of
+you, an' good right we have, a sullish! Come over, an let me be near you
+as long as I can, any way."
+
+Denis placed himself beside her, and the proud mother drew his head over
+upon her bosom, and bedewed his face with a gush of tears.
+
+"They say," she observed, "that it's sinful to shed tears when there's
+no occasion for grief; but I hope it's no sin to cry when one's heart is
+full of somethin' that brings them to one's eyes, whether they will or
+not."
+
+"Mave," said the father, "I'll miss him more nor any of you: but sure
+he'll often send letters to us from Maynewth, to tell us now he's
+gettin' on; an' we'll be proud enough, never fear."
+
+"You'll miss me, Denis," said his favorite sister, who was also called
+Susan; "for you'll find no one in Maynewth that will keep your linen so
+white as I did: but never fear, I'll be always knittin' you stockings;
+an' every year I'll make you half-a-dozen shirts, and you'll think them
+more natural nor other shirts, when you know they came from your own
+home--from them that you love! Won't you, Denis?"
+
+"I will, Susy; and I will love the shirts for the sake of the hands that
+made them."
+
+"And I won't allow Susy Connor to help me as she used to do: they'll be
+all Alley's sewin' and mine."
+
+"The poor colleen--listen to her!" exclaimed the affectionate father;
+"indeed you will, Susy; ay, and hem his cravats, that we'll send him
+ready made an' all."
+
+"Yes," replied Denis, "but as to Susy Connor--hem--why, upon
+considera--he--hem--upon second thoughts, I don't see why you should
+prevent her from helping you; she's a neighbor's daughter, and a
+well-wisher, of whose prosperity in life I'd always wish to hear.
+
+"The poor girl's very bad in her health, for the last three weeks,"
+observed his other sister Alley: "she has lost her appetite, an' is cast
+down entirely in her spirits. You ought to go an' see her, Denis, before
+you set out for the college, if it was only on her dacent father's
+account. When I was tellin' her yisterday that you wor to get the
+bishop's letter for Maynewth to-morrow, she was in so poor a state of
+health that she nearly fainted. I had to give her a drink of wather, and
+sprinkle her face with it. Well, she's a purty crathur, an' a good girl,
+an' was always that, dear knows!"
+
+"Denis achree," said his mother, somewhat alarmed, "are you any way
+unwell? Why your heart's batin' like a new catched chicken! Are you
+sick, acushla; or are you used to this?"
+
+"It won't signify," replied Denis, gently raising himself from his
+mother's arms, "I will sit up, mother; it's but a sudden stroke or two
+of _tremor cordis_, produced probably by having my mind too much upon
+one object."
+
+"I think," said his father, "he will be the betther of a little drop of
+the poteen made into punch, an' for that matter we can all take a sup
+of it; as there's no one here but ourselves, we will have it snug an'
+comfortable."
+
+Nothing resembles an April day more than the general disposition of
+the Irish people. When old Denis's proposal for the punch was made, the
+gloom which hung over the family--originating, as it did, more in joy
+than in soitow--soon began to disappear. Their countenances gradually
+brightened, by and by mirth stole out, and ere the punch had
+accomplished its first round, laughter, and jest, and good-humor,--each,
+in consequence of the occasion, more buoyant and vivacious than usual,
+were in full play. Denis himself, when animated by the unexcised liquor,
+threw off his dejection, and' ere the night was half spent found himself
+in the highest region of pedantry.
+
+"I would not," said he, "turn my back upon any other candidate in the
+province, in point of preparatory excellence and ardency of imagination.
+I say, sitting here beside you, my worthy and logical father, I would
+not retrograde from any candidate for the honors of the Catholic Church
+in the province--in the kingdom--in Europe; and it is not improbable but
+I might progradiate another step, and say Christendom at large. And now,
+what's a candidate? Father, you have some apprehension in you, and are a
+passable second-hand controversialist--what's a candidate? Will you tell
+me?"
+
+"I give it up, Denis; but you'll tell us."
+
+"Yes, I will tell you. Candidate signifies a man dressed in fustian; it
+comes from _candidus_, which is partly Greek, partly Latin, and partly
+Hebrew. It was the learned designation for Irish linen, too, which in
+the time of the Romans was in great request at Home; but it was changed
+to signify fustian, because it was found that everything a man promised
+on becoming a candidate for any office, turned out to be only fustian
+when he got it."
+
+"Denis, avourneen," said his mother, "the greatest comfort myself has is
+to be thinkin' that when you're a priest, you can be sayin' masses for
+my poor sinful sowl."
+
+"Yes, there is undoubtedly comfort in, that reflection; and depend
+upon it, my dear mother, that I'll be sure to clinch your masses in
+the surest mode. I'll not fly over them like Camilla across a field
+of potato oats, without discommoding a single walk, as too many of my
+worthy brethren--I mane as! too many of those whose worthy brother I
+will soon be--do in this present year of grace. I'm no fool at the
+Latin, but, as I'm an unworthy candidate for Maynooth, I cannot even
+understand every fifteenth word they say when reading mass,
+independently of the utter scorn with which they treat; these two
+Scholastic old worthies, called! Syntax and Prosody."
+
+"Denis," said the father, "nothing would give me greater delight than to
+be present at your first mass, an' your first sarmon; and next to that I
+would like to be stumpin' about wid a dacent staff in my hand, maybe wid
+a bit of silver on the head of it, takin' care of your place when you'd
+have a parish."
+
+"At all events, if you're not with me, father, I'll keep you comfortable
+wherever you'll be, whether in this world or the other; for, plase
+goodness, I'll have some influence in both.--When I get a parish,
+however, it is not improbable that I may have occasion to see company;
+the neighboring gentlemen will be apt to relish my society, particularly
+those who are addicted to conviviality; and our object will be to render
+ourselves as populous as possible; now, whether in that case it would be
+compatible--but never fear, father, whilst I have the means, you or one
+of the family shall never want."
+
+"Will you let the people be far behind in their dues, Denis?" inquired
+Brian.
+
+"No, no--leave that point to my management. Depend upon it, I'll have
+them like mice before me--ready to run into the first augerhole they
+meet. I'll collect lots of oats, and get as much yarn every year as
+would clothe three regiments of militia, or, for that matther, of
+dragoons. I'll appoint my stations, too, in the snuggest farmers' houses
+in the parish, just as Father Finnerty, our worthy parochial priest,
+ingeniously contrives to do. And, to revert secondarily to the
+collection of the oats, I'll talk liberally to the Protestant boddaghs;
+give the Presbyterians a learned homily upon civil and religious
+freedom: make hard hits with them at that Incubus, the Established
+Church; and, never fear, but I shall fill bag after bag with good corn
+from many of both creeds."
+
+"That," said Brian, "will be givin' them the bag to hould in airnest."
+
+"No, Brian, but it will be makin' them fill the bag when I hold it,
+which will be better still."
+
+"But," said Susan, "who'll keep house for you? You know that a priest
+can't live widout a housekeeper."
+
+"That, Susy," replied Denis, "is, and will be the most difficult point
+on which to accomplish anything like a satisfactory determination. I
+have nieces enough, however. There's Peter Finnegan's eldest daughter
+Mary, and Hugh Tracy's Ailsey--(to whom he added about a dozen and a
+half more)--together with several yet to be endowed with existence, all
+of whom will be brisk candidates for the situation."
+
+"I don't think," replied Mrs. O'Shaughnessy, "that you'll ever get any
+one who'd be more comfortable about you nor your own ould mother. What
+do you think of takin' myself, Denis?"
+
+"Ay, but consider the accomplishments in the culinary art--_in re vel in
+arte culinaria_--which will be necessary for my housekeeper to know. How
+would you, for instance, dress a dinner for the bishop if he happened to
+pay me a visit, as you may be certain he will? How would you make pies
+and puddings, and disport your fancy through all the varieties of roast
+and boil? How would you dress a fowl that it would stand upon a dish
+as if it was going to dance a hornpipe? How would you amalgamate the
+different genera of wine with boiling fluid and crystallized saccharine
+matter? How would you dispose of the various dishes upon the table
+according to high life and mathematics? Wouldn't you be too old to bathe
+my feet when I'd be unwell? Wouldn't you be too old to bring me my whey
+in the morning soon as I'd awake, perhaps with a severe headache, after
+the plenary indulgence of a clerical compotation? Wouldn't you be too
+old to sit up till the middle of the nocturnal hour, awaiting my arrival
+home? Wouldn't you be--"
+
+"Hut, tut, that's enough, Denny, I'd never do at all. No, no, but I'll
+sit a clane, dacent ould woman in the corner upon a chair that you'll
+get made for me. There I'll be wid my pipe and tobacco, smokin' at my
+aise, chattin' to the sarvints, and sometimes discoorsin' the neighbors
+that'll come to inquire for you, when they'll be sittin' in the kitchen
+waitin' till you get through your office. Jist let me have that, Dinny
+achora, and I'll be as happy as the day's long."
+
+"And I on the other side," said his father, naturally enough struck with
+the happy simplicity of the picture which his wife drew, "on the other
+side, Mave, a snug, dacent ould man, chattin' to you across the fire,
+proud to see the bishop an' the gintlemen about him. An' I wouldn't ax
+to be taken into the parlor at all, except, maybe, when there would be
+nobody there but yourself, Denis; an' that your mother an' I would go
+into the parlor to get a glass of punch, or, if it could be spared, a
+little taste of wine for novelty."
+
+"And so you shall, both of you--you, father, at one side of the hob,
+and my mother here at the other, the king and queen of my culinarian
+dominions. But practice taciturnity a little--I'm visited by the muse,
+and must indulge in a strain of vocal melody--hem--'tis a few lines of
+my own composure, the offspring of a moment of inspiration by the nine
+female Heliconians; but before I incipiate, here's to my own celebrity
+to-morrow, and afterwards all your healths!"
+
+He then proceeded to sing in his best style a song composed, as he said,
+by himself, but which, as the composition was rather an eccentric one,
+we decline giving.
+
+"Denis," said his brother, "you'll have great sport at the Station's."
+
+"Yes, Brian, most inimitable specimen of fraternity, I do look into the
+futurity of a station with great complacency. Hem--in the morning I
+rise up in imagination, and after reading part of my office, I and my
+curate--_ego et coadjutor metis_--or, if I get a large parish, perhaps I
+and my two curates--_ego et coudjutores mei_--order our horses, and
+of a fine, calm summer morning we mount them as gracefully as three
+throopers. The sun is up, and of coorse the moon is down, and the
+glitter of the light, the sparkling of the dew, the canticles of the
+birds, and the _melodiotis_ cowing of the crows in Squire Grimshaw's
+rookery--"
+
+"Why, Denis, is it this parish you'll have?"
+
+"Silence, silence, till I complate my rural ideas--in some gentleman's
+rookery at all events; the thrush here, the blackbird there, the
+corn-craik chanting its varied note in another place, and so on. In the
+meantime we reverend sentimentalists advance, gazing with odoriferous
+admiration upon the prospect about us, and expatiating in the purest
+of Latin upon the beauties of unsophisticated nature. When we meet the
+peasants going out to their work, they put their hands to their hats
+for us; but as I am known to be the parochial priest, it is to me the
+salutation is directed, which I return with the air of a man who thinks
+nothing of such things; but, I on the contrary, knows them to be his
+due. The poor creatures of curates you must know, don't presume to
+speak of themselves, but simply answer whenever I condescend to propose
+conversation, for I'll keep them down, never fear. In this edifying
+style we proceed--I a few steps in advance, and they at a respectful
+distance behind me, the heads of their horses just to my saddle
+skirts--my clerical boots as brilliant as the countenance of Phoebus,
+when decked with rosy smiles, theirs more subordinately polished, for
+there should be gradations in all things, and humility is the first of
+virtues in a Christian curate. My bunch of gold sales stands out proudly
+from my anterior rotundity, for by this time, plase God, I'll be getting
+frolicsome and corpulent: they with only a poor bit of ribbon, and a
+single two-penny kay, stained with verdigrace. In the meantime, we come
+within sight of the wealthy farmer's house, wherein we are to hold the
+edifying solemnity of a station. There is a joyful appearance of study
+and bustle about the premises: the peasantry are flocking towards it,
+dressed in their best clothes; the proprietors of the mansion itself are
+running out to try if we are in appearance, and the very smoke disports
+itself hilariously in the air, and bounds up as if it was striving
+to catch the first glimpse of the clargy. When we approach, the
+good man--_pater-familias_--comes out to meet us, and the good
+woman--_mater-farmilias_--comes curtseying from the door to give the
+head _milliafailtha_. No sooner do we parsave ourselves noticed, then
+out comes the Breviary, and in a moment we are at our morning devotions.
+I being the rector, am particularly grave and dignified. I do not speak
+much, but am rather sharp, and order the curates, whom I treat, however,
+with great respect before the people, instantly to work. This impresses
+those who are present with awe and reverence for us all, especially for
+Father O'Shaughnessy himself--(that's me).--I then take a short turn or
+two across the floor, silently perusing my office, after which I lay
+it aside, and relax into a little conversation with the people of the
+house, to show that I can conciliate by love as readily as I can impress
+them with fear; for, you see _divide et impera_ is as aptly applied
+to the passions as to maxims of state policy--ehem. I then go to my
+tribunal, and first hear the man and woman and family of the house, and
+afther them the other penitents according as they can come to me.
+
+"Thus we go on absolving in great style, till it is time for the
+_matutinal_ meal--vulgarly called breakfast; when the whiskey, eggs,
+toast, and tea as strong as Hercules, with ham, fowl, beef-steaks,
+or mutton-chops, all pour in upon us in the full tide of hospitality.
+Helter-skelter, cut and thrust, right and left, we work away, till the
+appetite reposes itself upon the cushion of repletion: and off we go
+once more, full an' warm, to the delicate employment of adjudicating
+upon sin and transgression, until dinner comes, when, having despatched
+as many as possible--for the quicker we get through them the better--we
+set about despatching what is always worth a ship-load of such
+riff-raff--_videlicet_, a good and extensive dinner. Oh, ye pagan gods
+of eating and drinking, Bacchus and--let me see who the presiding deity
+of good feeding was in the Olympian synod--as I'm an unworthy candidate
+I forget that topic of learning; but no matter, _non constat_. Oh, ye
+pagan professors of ating and drinking, Bacchus, and Epicurus, and St.
+Heliogabalus, Anthony of Padua, and Paul the Hermit, who poached for his
+own venison, St. Tuck, and St. Takem, St. Drinkem, and St. Eatem, with
+all the other reverend worthies, who bore the blushing honors of the
+table thick upon your noses, come and inspire your unworthy candidate,
+while he essays to chant the praises of a Station dinner!
+
+"Then, then, does the priest appropriate to himself his due share of
+enjoyment Then does he, like Elias, throw his garment of inspiration
+upon his coadjutors. Then is the goose cut up, and the farmer's
+distilled Latin is found to be purer and more edifying than the
+distillation of Maynooth.
+
+     'Drink deep, or taste not that Pierian spring,
+     A little learning here's a dangerous thing.'
+
+And so it is, as far as this inspiring language is concerned. A station
+dinner is the very pinnacle of a priest's happiness. There is the fun
+and frolic; then does the lemon-juice of mirth and humor come out of
+their reverences, like secret writing, as soon as they get properly
+warm. The song and the joke, the laugh and the leer, the shaking of
+hands, the making of matches, and the projection of weddings,--och, I
+must conclude, or my brisk fancy will dissolve in the deluding vision!
+Here's to my celebrity to-morrow, and may the Bishop catch a Tartar
+in your son, my excellent and logical father!--as I tell you among
+ourselves he will do. Mark me, I say it, but it's _inter nos_, it won't
+go further; but should he trouble me with profundity, may be I'll make a
+_ludibrium_ of him."
+
+"But you forget the weddings and christenings, Denis; you'll have great
+sport at them too."
+
+"I can't remember three things at a time, Brian; but you are mistaken,
+however, I had them snug in one corner of my cranium. The weddings and
+the christenings! do you think I'll have nothing to do in them, you!
+_stultus_ you?"
+
+"But, Denis, is there any harm in the priests enjoying themselves, and
+they so holy as we know they are?" inquired his mother.
+
+"Not the least in life; considering what severe fasting, and great
+praying they have; besides it's necessary for them to take something to
+put the sins of the people out of their heads, and that's one reason why
+they are often jolly at Stations."
+
+"My goodness, what light Denis can throw upon anything!"
+
+"Not without deep study, mother; but let us have another portion of
+punch each, afther which I'll read a Latin De Profundis, and we'll go to
+bed, I must be up early tomorrow; and, Brian, you'll please to have the
+black mare saddled and my spur brightened as jinteely as you can, for I
+must go in as much state and grandeur as possible." Accordingly, in due
+time, after hearing the De Profundis, which Denis read in as sonorous a
+tone, and as pompous a manner, as he could assume, they went to bed for
+the night, to dream of future dignities for their relative.
+
+When Denis appeared the next morning, it was evident that the spirit
+of prophecy in which he had contemplated the enjoyments annexed to his
+ideal station on the preceding night, had departed from him. He was pale
+and anxious, as in the early part of the,previous evening. At breakfast,
+his very appetite treacherously abandoned him, despite the buttered
+toast and eggs which his mother forced upon him with such tender
+assiduity, in order, she said, to make him stout against the Bishop.
+Her solicitations, however, were vain; after attempting to eat to no
+purpose, he arose and began to prepare himself for his journey. This,
+indeed, was a work of considerable importance, for, as they had no
+looking-glass, he was obliged to dress himself over a tub of water, in
+which, since truth must be told, he saw a very cowardly visage. In due
+time, however, he was ready to proceed upon his journey, apparelled in a
+new suit of black that sat stiffly and awkwardly upon him, crumpled in
+a manner that enabled any person, at a glance, to perceive that it was
+worn for the first time. When he was setting out, his father approached
+him with a small jug of holy water in his hand. "Denis," said he, "I
+think you won't be the worse for a sprinkle of this;" and he accordingly
+was about to shake it with a little brush over his person, when Denis
+arrested his hand.
+
+"Easy, father," he replied, "you don't remember that my new clothes are
+on. I'll just take a little with, my fingers, for you know one drop is
+as good as a thousand."
+
+"I know that," said the father, "but on the other hand you know it's not
+lucky to refuse it."
+
+"I didn't refuse it," rejoined Denis, "I surely took a quantum suff. of
+it with my own hand."
+
+"It was very near a refusal," said the father, in a disappointed and
+somewhat sorrowful tone; "but it can't be helped now. I'm only sorry
+you put it and quantum suff. in connection at all. Quantum suff. is what
+Father Finnerty says, when he will take no more punch; and it doesn't
+argue respect in you to make as little of a jug of holy wather as he
+does of a jug of punch."
+
+"I'm sarry for it too," replied Denis, who was every whit as
+superstitious as his father; "and to atone for my error, I desire you
+will sprinkle me all over with it--clothes and all."
+
+The father complied with this, and Denis was setting out, when his
+mother exclaimed, "Blessed be them above us, Denis More! Look at the
+boy's legs! There's luck! Why one of his stockin's has the wrong side
+out, and it's upon the right leg too! Well, this will be a fortunate
+day for you, Denis, any way; the same thing never happened myself, but
+something good followed it."
+
+This produced a slight conflict between Denis's personal vanity and
+superstition; but on this occasion superstition prevailed: he even felt
+his spirits considerably elevated by the incident, mounted the mare, and
+after jerking himself once or twice in the saddle, to be certain that
+all was right, he touched her with the spur, and set out to be examined
+by the Bishop, exclaiming as he went, "Let his lordship take care that I
+don't make a _ludibrium_ of him."
+
+The family at that moment all came to the door, where they stood looking
+after, and admiring him, until he turned a corner of the road, and left
+their sight.
+
+Many were the speculations entered into during his absence, as to the
+fact, whether or not he would put down the bishop in the course of the
+examination; some of them holding that he could do so if he wished; but
+others of them denying that it was possible for him, inasmuch as he had
+never received holy orders.
+
+The day passed, but not in the usual way, in Denis More O'Shaughnessy's.
+The females of the family were busily engaged in preparing for the
+dinner, to which Father Finnerty, his curate, and several of their
+nearest and wealthiest friends had been invited; and the men in clearing
+out the stables and other offices for the horses of the guests. Pride
+and satisfaction were visible on every face, and that disposition to
+cordiality and to the oblivion of everything unpleasant to the mind,
+marked, in a prominent manner, their conduct and conversation. Old
+Denis went, and voluntarily spoke to a neighbor, with whom he had not
+exchanged a word, except in anger, for some time. He found him at work
+in the field, and, advancing with open hand and heart, he begged his
+pardon for any offence he might have given him.
+
+"My son," said he, "is goin' to Maynooth; and as he is a boy that we
+have a good right to be proud of, and as our friends are comin' to
+ate their dinner wid us to-day, and as--as my heart is to full to bear
+ill-will against any livin' sowl, let alone a man that I know to be
+sound at the heart, in spite of all that has come between us--I say,
+Darby, I forgive you, and I expect pardon for my share of the offence.
+There's the hand of an honest man--let us be as neighbors ought to be,
+and not divided into parties and factions against one another, as we
+have been too long. Take your dinner wid us to-day, and let us hear no
+more about ill-will and unkindness."
+
+"Denis," said his friend, "it ill becomes you to spake first. 'Tis I
+that ought to do that, and to do it long ago too; but you see, somehow,
+so long as it was to be decided by blows between the families, I'd never
+give in. Not but that I might do so, but my sons, Denis, wouldn't hear
+of it. Throth, I'm glad of this, and so will they too; for only for the
+honor and glory of houldin' out, we might be all friends through
+other long ago. And I'll tell you what, we couldn't do better, the
+two factions of us, nor join and thrash them Haigneys that always put
+between us."
+
+"No, Darby, I tell you, I bear no ill-will, no bad thoughts agin any
+born Christian this day, and I won't hear of that. Come to us about five
+o'clock: we're to have Father Finnerty, and Father Molony, his curate:
+all friends, man, all friends; and Denny, God guard him this day, will
+be home, afther passin' the Bishop, about four o'clock."
+
+"I always thought that gorsoon would come to somethin'. Why it was
+wondherful how he used to discoorse upon the chapel-green, yourself and
+himself: but he soon left you behind. And how he sealed up poor ould
+Dixon, the parish dark's mouth, at Barny Boccagh's wake. God rest his
+soul! It was talkin' about the Protestant church they wor. 'Why,' said
+Misther Denis, 'you ould termagent, can you tell me who first discovered
+your church?' The dotin' ould crathur began of hummin', and hawin',
+and advisin' the boy to have more sense. 'Come,' said he, 'you ould
+canticle, can you answer? But for fear you can't, I'll answer for you.
+It was the divil discovered it, one fine mornin' that he went out to get
+an appetite, bein' in delicate health.' Why, Denis, you'd tie all that
+wor present wid a rotten sthraw."
+
+"Darby, I ax your pardon over agin for what came between us; and I see
+now betther than I did, that the fault of it was more mine nor yours.
+You'll be down surely about five o'clock?"
+
+"I must go and take this beard off o' me, and clane myself; and I may as
+well do that now: but I'll be down, never fear."
+
+"In throth the boy was always bright!--ha, ha, ha!--and he sobered
+Dixon?"
+
+"Had him like a judge in no time."
+
+"Oh, he would do it--he could do that, at all times. God be wid you,
+Darby, till I see you in the evenin'.
+
+"_Bannaght lhath_, Denis, an' I'm proud we're as we ought to be."
+
+About four o'clock, the expected guests began to assemble at Denis's;
+and about the same hour one might perceive Susan O'Shaughnessy running
+out to a stile a little above the house, where she stood for a few
+minutes, with her hand shadingher eyes, looking long and intensely
+towards the direction from which she expected her brother to return.
+Hitherto, however, he could not be discovered in the distance, although
+scarcely five minutes elapsed during the intervals of her appearance
+at the stile to watch him. Some horsemen she did notice; but after
+straining her eyes eagerly and anxiously, she was enabled only to
+report, with a dejected air, that they were their own friends coming
+from a distant part of the parish, to be present at the dinner. At
+length, after a long and eager look, she ran in with an exclamation of
+delight, saying--
+
+"Thank goodness, he's comin' at last; I see somebody dressed in black
+ridin' down the upper end of Tim Marly's boreen, an' I'm sure an'
+certain it must be Denis, from his dress!"
+
+"I'll warrant it is, my colleen," replied her father; "he said he'd be
+here before the dinner would be ready, an' it's widin a good hour of
+that. I'll thry myself."
+
+He and his daughter once more went out; but, alas! only to experience a
+fresh disappointment. Instead of Denis, it was Father Finnerty; who,
+it appeared, felt as anxious to be in time for dinner, as the young
+candidate himself could have done. He was advancing at a brisk trot,
+not upon the colt which had been presented to him, but upon his old nag,
+which seemed to feel as eager to get at Denis's oats, as its owner did
+to taste his mutton.
+
+"I see, Susy, we'll have a day of it, plase goodness," observed Denis
+to the girl; "here's Father Finnerty, and I wouldn't for more nor I'll
+mention that he had staid away: and I hope the coidjuther will come as
+well as himself. Do you go in, aroon, and tell them he's comin', and
+I'll go and meet him."
+
+Most of Denis's friends were now assembled, dressed in their best
+apparel, and Raised to the highest pitch of good humor; no man who knows
+the relish with which Irishmen enter into convivial enjoyments, can
+be ignorant of the remarkable flow of spirits which the prospect of an
+abundant and hospitable dinner produces among them.
+
+Father Finnerty was one of those priests who constitute a numerous
+species in Ireland; regular, but loose and careless in the observances
+of his church, he could not be taxed with any positive neglect of
+pastoral duty. He held his stations at stated times and places, with
+great exactness, but when the severer duties annexed to them were
+performed, he relaxed into the boon companion, sang his song, told his
+story, laughed his laugh, and occasionally danced his dance, the very
+_beau ideal_ of a rough, shrewd, humorous divine, who, amidst the
+hilarity of convivial mirth, kept an eye to his own interest, and
+sweetened the severity with which he exacted his "dues" by a manner at
+once jocose and familiar. If a wealthy farmer had a child to christen,
+his reverence declined baptizing it in the chapel, but as a proof of his
+marked respect for its parents, he and his curate did them the honor
+of performing the ceremony at their own house. If a marriage was to
+be solemnized, provided the parties were wealthy, he adopted the same
+course, and manifested the same flattering marks of his particular
+esteem for the parties, by attending at their residence; or if they
+preferred the pleasure of a journey to his own house, he and his curate
+accompanied them home from the same motives. This condescension, whilst
+it raised the pride of the parties, secured a good dinner and a pleasant
+evening's entertainment for the priests, enhanced their humility
+exceedingly, for the more they enjoyed themselves, the more highly did
+their friends consider themselves honored. This mode of life might, one
+would suppose, lessen their importance and that personal respect which
+is entertained for the priests by the people; but it is not so--the
+priests can, the moment such scenes are ended, pass, with the greatest
+aptitude of habit, into the hard, gloomy character of men who are
+replete with profound knowledge, exalted piety, and extraordinary power.
+The sullen frown, the angry glance, or the mysterious allusion to the
+omnipotent authority of the church, as vested in their persons, joined
+to some unintelligible dogma, laid down as their authority, are always
+sufficient to check anything derogatory towards them, which is apt to
+originate in the unguarded moments of conviviality.
+
+"Plase your Reverence, I'll put him up myself," said Denis to Father
+Finnerty, as he took his horse by the bridle, and led him towards the
+stable, "and how is my cowlt doin' wid you, sir?"
+
+"Troublesome, Denis; he was in a bad state when I got him, and he'll
+cost me nearly his price before I have him thoroughly broke."
+
+"He was pretty well broke wid me, I know," replied Denis, "and I'm
+afear'd you've given him into the hands of some one that knows little
+about horses. Mave," he shouted, passing the kitchen door, "here's
+Father Finnerty--go in, Docthor, and put big Brian Buie out o' the
+corner; for goodness sake Exltimnicate him from the hob--an' sure you
+have power to do that any way."
+
+The priest laughed, but immediately assuming a grave face, as he
+entered, exclaimed--
+
+"Brian Buie, in the name of the forty-seventh proposition of Euclid's
+Elements--in the name of the cube and square roots--of Algebra,
+Mathematics, Fluxions, and the doctrine of all essential spirits that
+admit of proof--in the name of Nebuchadanezar the divine, who invented
+the convenient scheme of taking a cold collation under a hedge--by the
+power of that profound branch of learning, the Greek Digemma--by the
+authority of true Latin, primo, of Beotian Greek, secundo, and of
+Arabian Hebrew, tertio; which is, when united by the skill of profound
+erudition, primo, secundo, tertio; or, being reversed by the logic of
+illustration, _tertio, secundo, primo. Commando te in nomine
+botteli potheeni boni drinkandi his oedibus, hac note, inter amicos
+excellentissimi amici mei, Dionissii O'Shaughnessy, quem beknavavi ex
+excellentissimo colto ejus, causa pedantissimi filii ejus, designali
+eccleseae, patri, sed nequaquam deo, nec naturae, nec ingenio;--commando
+te inquam, Bernarde Buie, surgere, stare, ambulare, et decedere e
+cornero isto vel hobbo, qua nunc sedes!_ Yes, I command thee, Brian
+Buie, who sit upon the hob of my worthy and most excellent friend and
+parishioner, Denis O'Shaughnessy, to rise, to stand up before your
+spiritual superior, to walk down from it, and to tremble as if you were
+about to sink into the earth to the neck, but no further; before the
+fulminations of him who can wield the thunder of that mighty Salmoneus,
+his holiness the Pope, successor to St. Peter, who left the servant of
+the Centurion earless--I command and objurgate thee, sinner as thou art,
+to vacate your seat on the hob for the man of sancity, whose legitimate
+possession it is, otherwise I shall send you, like that worthy
+archbishop, the aforesaid Nebuchadanezar, to live upon leeks for seven
+years in the renowned kingdom of Wales, where the leeks may be seen to
+this day! Presto!"
+
+These words, pronounced with a grave face, in a loud, rapid, and
+sonorous tone of voice, startled the good people of the house, who sat
+mute and astonished at such an exordium from the worthy pastor: but no
+sooner had he uttered Brian Buie's name, giving him, at the same time, a
+fierce and authoritative look, than the latter started to his feet, and
+stepped down in a kind of alarm towards the door. The priest immediately
+placed his hand upon his shoulder in a mysterious manner, exclaiming--
+
+"Don't be alarmed, Brian, I have taken the force of the anathema off
+you; your power to sit or stand, or go where you please, is returned
+again. I wanted your seat, and Denis desired, me to excommunicate you
+out of it, which I did, and you accordingly left it without your own
+knowledge, consent, or power; I transferred you to where you stand, and
+you had no more strength to resist me than if you were an infant not
+three hours in the world!"
+
+"I ax God's pardon, an' your Reverence's," said Brian, in a tremor,
+"if I have given offince. Now, bless my soul! what's this? As sure as I
+stand before you, neighbors, I know neither act nor part of how I was
+brought from the hob at all--neither act nor part! Did any of yez see me
+lavin' it; or how did I come here--can you tell me?"
+
+"Paddy," said one of his friends, "did you see him?"
+
+"The sorra one o' me seen him," replied Paddy: "I was lookin' at his
+Reverence, sthrivin' to know what he was sayin'."
+
+"Pether, did you?" another inquired. "Me! I never seen a stim of him
+till he was standin' alone on the flure! Sure, when he didn't see or
+find himself goin', how could another see him?"
+
+"Glory be to God!" exclaimed Mave; "one ought to think well what they
+say, when they spake of the clargy, for they don't know what it may
+bring down upon them, sooner or later!"
+
+"Our Denis will be able to do that yet," said Susan to her elder sister.
+
+"To be sure he will, girsha, as soon as he's ordained--every bit as well
+as Father Finnerty," replied Mary.
+
+The young enthusiast's countenance brightened as her sister spoke: her
+dark eye became for a minute or two fixed upon vacancy, during which
+it flashed several times; until, as the images of her brother's
+future glory passed before her imagination; she became wrapt--her lip
+quivered--her cheek flushed into a deeper color, and the tears burst in
+gushes from her eyes.
+
+The mother, who was now engaged in welcoming Father Finnerty--a
+duty which the priest's comic miracle prevented her from performing
+sooner--did not perceive her daughter's agitation, nor, in fact, did
+any one present understand its cause. Whilst the priest was taking Brian
+Buie's seat, she went once more to watch the return of Denis; and while
+she stood upon the stile, her father, after having put up the horse,
+entered the house, "to keep his Reverence company."
+
+"An' pray, Docthor," he inquired, "where is Father Molony, that he's not
+wid you? I hope he won't disappoint us; he's a mighty pleasant gintleman
+of an evenin', an', barrin' your Reverence, I don't know a man tells a
+better story."
+
+"He entreated permission from me this morning," replied Father Finnerty,
+"and that was leave to pay a visit to the Bishop, for what purpose I
+know not, unless to put in a word in season for the first parish that
+becomes vacant."
+
+"Throth, an' he well desarves a parish," replied Denis; "an' although
+we'd be loath to part wid him, still we'd be proud to hear of his
+promotion."
+
+"He'll meet Denis there," observed Susan, who had returned from the
+stile: "he'll be apt to be present at his trial wid the Bishop; an'
+maybe he'll be home along wid him. I'll go an' thry if I can see them
+agin;" and she flew out once more to watch their return.
+
+"Now, Father Finnerty," said an uncle of Denis's, "you can give a good
+guess at what a dacent parish ought to be worth to a parish priest?"
+
+"Mrs. O'Shaughnessy," said the priest, "is that fat brown goose
+suspended before the fire, of your own rearing?"
+
+"Indeed it is, plase your Reverence; but as far as good male an phaties
+could go for the last month, it got the benefit of them."
+
+"And pray, Mrs. O'Shaughnessy, have you many of the same kidney? I only
+ask for information, as I said to Peery Hacket's wife, the last day I
+held the Station in Peery's. There was just such another goose hanging
+before the fire; but, you must know, the cream of the joke was, that I
+had been after coming from the confessional, as hungry as a man could
+conveniently wish himself; and seeing the brown fat goose before the
+fire just as that is, why my teeth, Mave, began to get lachrymose. Upon
+my Priesthood it was such a goose as a priest's corpse might get up on
+its elbow to look at, and exclaim, 'avourneen machree, it's a thousand
+pities that I'm not living to have a cut at you!'--ha, ha, ha! God be
+good to old Friar Hennessy, I have that joke from him.
+
+"'Well, Mrs. Hacket,' says I, as I was airing my fingers at the fire, 'I
+dare say you haven't another goose like this about the house? Now, tell
+me, like an honest woman, have you any of the same kidney?--I only ask
+for information.'
+
+"Mrs. Hacket, however, told me she believed there might be a few of the
+same kind straggling about the place, but said nothing further upon it,
+until the Saturday following, when her son brings me down a pair of
+the fattest geese I ever cut up for my Sunday's dinner. Now, Mrs.
+O'Shaughnessy, wasn't that doing the thing dacent?"
+
+"Well, well, Docthor," said Denis, "that was all right; let Mave
+alone, an' maybe she'll be apt to find out a pair that will match Mrs.
+Hacket's. Not that I say it, but she doesn't like to be outdone in
+anything."
+
+"Docthor, I was wishin' to know, sir," continued the uncle of the absent
+candidate, "what the value of a good parish might be."
+
+"I think, Mave, there's a discrepancy between the goose and the shoulder
+of mutton. The fact is, that if it be a disputation between them, as to
+which will be roasted first, I pronounce that the goose will have it.
+It's now, let me see, half past four o'clock, and, in my opinion, it
+will take a full half hour to bring up the mutton. So Mave, if you'll
+be guided by your priest, advance the mutton towards the fire about two
+inches, and keep the little girsha basting steadily, and then you'll be
+sure to have it rich and juicy."
+
+"Docthor, wid submission, I was wantin' to know what a good parish might
+be--"
+
+"Mike Lawdher, if I don't mistake, you ought to have good grazing down
+in your meadows at Ballinard. What will you be charging for a month
+or two's grass for this colt I've bought from my dacent friend, Denis
+O'Shaughnessy, here? And, Mike, be rasonable upon a poor man, for we're
+all poor, being only tolerated by the state we live under, and ought
+not, of course, to be hard upon one another."
+
+"An' what did he cost you, Docthor?" replied Mike, answering one
+question by another; "what did you get for him, Denis?" he continued,
+referring for information to Denis, to whom, on reflection, he thought
+it more decorous to put the question.
+
+Denis, however, felt the peculiar delicacy of his situation, and looked
+at the priest, whilst the latter, under a momentary embarrassment,
+looked significantly at Denis. His Reverence, however, was seldom at a
+loss.
+
+"What would you take him to be worth, Mike?" he asked; "remember he's
+but badly trained, and I'm sure it will cost me both money and trouble
+to make anything dacent out of him."
+
+"If you got him somewhere between five and twenty and thirty guineas, I
+would say you have good value for your money, plase your Reverence. What
+do you say, Denis--am I near it?"
+
+"Why, Mike, you know as much about a horse as you do about the
+Pentateuch or Paralipomenon. Five and twenty guineas, indeed! I hope you
+won't set your grass as you would sell your horses."
+
+"Why, thin, if your Reverence ped ready money for him, I maintain he
+was as well worth twenty guineas as a thief's worth the gallows; an'
+you know, sir, I'd be long sorry to differ wid you. Am I near it now,
+Docthor?"
+
+"Denis got for the horse more than that," said his Reverence, "and he
+may speak for himself."
+
+"Thrue for you, sir," replied Denis; "I surely got above twenty guineas
+for him, an' I'm well satisfied wid the bargain."
+
+"You hear that now, Mike--you hear what he says."
+
+"There's no goin' beyant it," returned Mike; "the proof o' the puddin'
+is in the atin,' as we'll soon know, Mave--eh, Docthor?"
+
+"I never knew Mave to make a bad one," said the priest, "except upon the
+day Friar Hennessy dined with me here--my curate was sick, and I had
+to call in the Friar to assist me at confession; however, to do Mave
+justice, it was not her fault, for the Friar drowned the pudding, which
+was originally a good one, with a deluge of strong whiskey."
+
+"'It's too gross,' said the facetious Friar, in his loud, strong
+voice--'it's too gross, Docthor Finnerty, so let us spiritualize it,
+that it may be Christian atin, fit for pious men to digest,' and then he
+came out with his thundering laugh--oigh, oigh, oigh, oigh! but he had
+consequently the most of the pudding to himself, an' indeed brought the
+better half of it home in his saddle-bags."
+
+"Faix, an' he did," said Mave, "an' a fat goose that he coaxed Mary to
+kill for him unknownst to us all, in the coorse o' the day."
+
+"How long is he dead, Docthor?" said Denis; "God rest him any way, he's
+happy!"
+
+"He died in the hot summer, now nine years about June last; and talking
+about him, reminds me of a trick he put on me about two years before his
+death. He and I had not been on good terms for long enough before that
+time; but as the curate I had was then sickly, and as I wouldn't be
+allowed two, I found that it might be convenient to call in the Friar
+occasionally, a regulation he did not at all relish, for he said he
+could make far more by questing and poaching about among the old women
+of the parish, with whom he was a great favorite, in consequence of the
+Latin hymns he used to sing for them, and the great cures he used to
+perform--a species of devotion which neither I nor my curate had time to
+practise. So, in order to renew my intimacy, I sent him a bag of oatmeal
+and a couple of flitches of bacon, both of which he readily accepted,
+and came down to me on the following day to borrow three guineas. After
+attempting to evade him--for, in fact, I had not the money to spare--he
+at length succeeded in getting them from me, on the condition that
+he was to give my curate's horse and mine a month's grass, by way of
+compensation, for I knew that to expect payment from him was next to
+going for piety to a parson.
+
+"'I will,' said he, 'give your horses the run of my best field'--for
+he held a comfortable bit of ground; 'but,' he added, 'as you have been
+always cutting at me about my principle, I must insist, if it was only
+to convince you of my ginerosity, that you'll lave the choosing of the
+month to myself.'
+
+"As I really wanted an assistant at the time, in consequence of my
+curate's illness, he had me bound, in some degree, to his own will. I
+accordingly gave him the money; but from that till the day of his death,
+he never sent for our horses, except when there was a foot and a half of
+snow on the ground, at which time he was certain to despatch a messenger
+for him, 'with Father Hennessy's compliments, and he requested Doctor
+Finnerty to send the horses to Father Hennessy's field, to ate their
+month's grass.'"
+
+"But is it true, Docthor, that his face was shinin' after his death?"
+
+"True enough, and to my own knowledge, long before that event."
+
+"Dear me," exclaimed Mave, "he was a holy man afther all!"
+
+"Undoubtedly he was," said the priest; "there are spots in the sun, Mrs.
+O'Shaugh-nessy--we are not all immaculate. There never was one sent
+into this world without less or more sin upon them. Even the saints
+themselves had venial touches about them, but nothing to signify."
+
+"Docthor," said the uncle, pertinaciously adhering to the original
+question, "you have an opportunity of knowin' what a good parish might
+be worth to a smart, active priest? For the sake of a son of mine that
+I've some notion of--"
+
+"By the by, I wonder Denis is not here before now," exclaimed his
+Reverence, lending a deaf ear to Mike O'Shaughnessy's interrogatory.
+
+Old Denis's favorite topic had been started, and he accordingly launched
+out upon it with all the delight and ardor of a fond father.
+
+"Now, Docthor dear, before us all--an' sure you know as well as I do,
+that we're all friends together--what's your downright opinion of Denis?
+Is he as bright as you tould me the other mornin' he was?"
+
+"Really, Denis O'Shaughnessy," replied his Reverence, "it's not pleasant
+to me to be pressed so often to eulogize a young gintleman of whose
+talents I have so frequently expressed my opinion. Is not once
+sufficient for me to say what I've said concerning him? But, as we
+are all present, I now say and declare, that my opinion of Denis
+O'Shaughnessy, jun., is decidedly _peculiar_--decidedly.
+
+"Come, girsha, keep basting the mutton, and never heed my boots--turn it
+about and baste the back of it better."
+
+"God be thanked," exclaimed the delighted father, "sure it's comfort to
+hear that, any how--afther all the pains and throuble we've taken wid
+him, to know it's not lost. Why, that boy was so smart, Docthor, that,
+may I never sin, when he went first to the Latin, but--an' this no lie,
+for I have it from his own lips--when he'd look upon his task two or
+three times over night, he'd waken wid every word of it, pat off the
+book the next mornin'. And how do you think he got it? Why, the crathur,
+you see, used to dhrame that he was readin' it off, and so he used to
+get it that way in his sleep!"
+
+At this moment Darby Moran, Denis's old foe entered, and his reception
+was cordial, and, if the truth were known, almost magnanimous on the
+part of Denis.
+
+"Darby Moran," said he, "not a man, barrin' his Reverence here, in the
+parish we sit in, that I'm prouder to see on my flure--give me your
+hand, man alive, and Mave and all of ye welcome him. Everything of what
+you know is buried between us, and you're bound to welcome him, if
+it was only in regard of the handsome way he spoke of our son this
+day--here's my own chair, Darby, and sit down."
+
+"Throth," said Darby, after shaking hands with the priest and greeting
+the rest of the company, "the same boy no one could spake ill of; and,
+although we and his people were not upon the best footin', still the
+sarra one o' me but always gave him his due."
+
+"Indeed, I believe you, Darby," said his father; "but are you
+comfortable? Draw your chair nearer the fire--the evenin's gettin'
+cowld."
+
+"I'm very well, Denis, I thank you;--nearer the fire! Faix, except you
+want to have me roasted along wid that shoulder of mutton and goose, I
+think I can't go much nearer it."
+
+"I'm sorry, you wasn't in sooner, Darby, till you'd hear what Docthor
+Finnerty here--God spare him long among us--said of Denis a while ago.
+Docthor, if it wouldn't be makin' too free, maybe you'd oblage me wid
+repatin' it over again?"
+
+"I can never have any hesitation," replied the priest, "in repeating
+anything to his advantage--I stated, Darby, that young Misther
+O'Shaughnessy was a youth of whom my opinion was decidedly
+_peculiar_--keep basting; child, you're forgetting the goose now; did
+you never see a priest's boots before?"
+
+"An' nobody has a better right to know nor yourself, wherever larnin'
+and education's consarned," said the father.
+
+"Why, it's not long since I examined him myself; I say it sitting here,
+and I believe every one that hears me is present; and during the course
+of the examination I was really astonished. The translations, and
+derivations, and conjugations, and ratiocinations, and variations, and
+investigations that he gave, were all the most remarkably original
+I ever heard. He would not be contented with the common sense of a
+passage; but he'd keep hunting, and hawking, and fishing about for
+something that was out of the ordinary course of reading, that I was
+truly struck with his eccentric turn of genius."
+
+"You think he'll pass the Bishop with great credit, Docthor?"
+
+"I'll tell you what I think, Denis--which is going further than I went
+yet--I think that if he were the Bishop, and the Bishop the candidate
+for Maynooth, that his lordship would have but a poor chance of passing.
+There's the pinnacle of my eulogium upon him; and now, to give my
+opinion on another important subject; I pronounce both the goose and
+mutton done to a turn. As it appears that Mrs. O'Shaughnessy has every
+other portion of the dinner ready, I move that we commence operations as
+soon as possible."
+
+"But Denis, Docthor? it would be a pleasure to me to have him, poor
+fellow, wid all his throuble over, and his mind at ase; maybe if we wait
+a weeshy while longer, Docthor, that he'll come, and you know Father
+Molony too is to come yet, and some more of our friends."
+
+"If the examination was a long one, I tell you that Mr. O'Shaughnessy
+may not be here this hour to come; and you may be sure, the Bishop,
+meeting such a bright boy, wouldn't make it a short one. As for Father
+Molony, he'll be here time enough, so I move again that we attack the
+citadel."
+
+"Well, well, never say it again--the sarra one o' me will keep it back,
+myself bein' as ripe as any of you, barrin' his Reverence, that we're not
+to take the foreway of in anything. Ha! ha! ha!"
+
+Whilst Mave and her daughters were engaged in laying dinner, and in
+making all the other arrangements necessary for their comfort, the
+priest took Denis aside, and thus addressed him:--
+
+"Denis, I need scarcely remark that this meeting of our friends is upon
+no common occasion; that it's neither a wedding, nor a Station, nor a
+christening, but a gathering of relations for a more honorable purpose
+than any of them, excepting the Station, which you know is a religious
+rite. I just mention this privately, lest you might not be properly on
+your guard, and to prevent any appearance of maneness; or--in short, I
+hope you have abundance of everything; I hope you have, and that, not
+for your own sake so much as for that of your son. Remember your boy,
+and what he's designed for, and don't let the dinner or its concomitants
+be discreditable to him; for, in fact, it's his dinner, observe, and not
+yours."
+
+"I'm thankful, I'm deeply thankful, an' for ever oblaged to your
+Reverence for your kindness; although, widout at all makin' little of
+it, it wasn't wanted here; never fear, Docthor, there'll be lashings and
+lavins."
+
+"Well, but make that clear, Denis; here now are near two dozen of us,
+and you say there are more to come, and all the provision I see for
+them is a shoulder of mutton, a goose, and something in that large pot
+on the fire, which I suppose is hung beef."
+
+"Thrue for you, sir, but you don't know that we've got a tarin' fire
+down in the barn, where there's two geese more and two shouldhers of
+mutton to help what you seen--not to mintion a great big puddin', an'
+lots of other things. Sure you might notice Mave and the girls runnin'
+in an' out to attind the cookin' of it."
+
+"Enough, Denis, that's sufficient; and now, between you and me, I say
+your son will be the load-star of Maynooth, winch out-tops anything I
+said of him yet."
+
+"There's a whole keg of whiskey, Docthor."
+
+"I see nothing, to prevent him from being a bishop; indeed, it's almost
+certain, for he can't be kept back."
+
+"I only hope your Reverence will be livin' when he praches his first
+sarmon. I have the dam of the coult still, an a wink's as good as a nod,
+please your Reverence."
+
+"A strong letter in his favor to the President of Maynooth will do him
+no harm," said the priest.
+
+They then joined their other friends, and in a few minutes an excellent
+dinner, plain and abundant, was spread out upon the table. It consisted
+of the usual materials which constitute an Irish feast in the house of
+a wealthy farmer, whose pride it is to compel every guest to eat so
+long as he can swallow a morsel. There were geese and fowl of all
+kinds--shoulders of mutton, laughing-potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and
+cabbage, together with an immense pudding, boiled in a clean sheet,
+and ingeniously kept together with long straws* drawn through it in all
+directions. A lord or duke might be senseless enough to look upon such
+a substantial, yeoman-like meal with a sneer; but with all their wealth
+and elegance, perhaps they might envy the health and appetite of those
+who partook of it. When Father Finnerty had given a short grace, and the
+operations of the table were commenced,--Denis looked around him with a
+disappointed air, and exclaimed:
+
+"Father Finnerty, there's only one thing, indeed I may say two, a
+wantin' to complate our happiness--I mean Denis and Father Molony! What
+on earth does your Reverence think can keep them?"
+
+     * This, about thirty years ago, was usual at weddings
+     and other feasts, where everything went upon a large
+     scale.
+
+To this he received not a syllable of reply, nor did he consider it
+necessary to urge the question any further at present. Father Finnerty's
+powers of conversation seemed to have abandoned him; for, although
+there were some few expressions loosely dropped, yet the worthy priest
+maintained an obstinate silence.
+
+At length, in due time, he began to let fall an occasional remark,
+impeded considerably by hiccups, and an odd _Deo Gratias_, or _Laus
+Deo_, uttered in that indecisive manner which indicates the position of
+a man who debates within himself whether he ought to rest satisfied or
+not.
+
+At this moment the tramping of a horse was heard approaching the door,
+and immediately every one of Denis's family ran out to ascertain whether
+it was the young candidate. Loud and clamorous was their joy on finding
+that they were not mistaken; he was alone, and, on arriving at the door,
+dismounted slowly, and received their welcomes and congratulations with
+a philosophy which perplexed them not a little. The scene of confusion
+which followed his entrance into the house could scarcely be conceived:
+every hand was thrust out to welcome him, and every tongue loud in
+wishing him joy and happiness. The chairs and stools were overturned as
+they stood in the way of those who wished to approach him; plates fell
+in the bustle, and wooden trenchers trundled along the ground; the dogs,
+on mingling with the crowd that surrounded him, were kicked angrily from
+among them by those who had not yet got shaking hands with Denis. Father
+Finnerty, during this commotion, kept his seat in the most dignified
+manner; but the moment it had subsided he stretched out his hand to
+Denis, exclaiming:
+
+"Mr. O'Shaughnessy, I congratulate you upon the event of this auspicious
+day! I wish you joy and happiness!"
+
+"So do we all, over and over agin!" they exclaimed; "a proud gintleman
+he may be this night!"
+
+"I thank you, Father Finnerty," said Denis, "and I thank you all!"
+
+"Denis, avourneen," said his mother, "sit down an' ate a hearty dinner;
+you must be both tired and hungry, so sit down, avick, and when you're
+done you can tell us all."
+
+"_Bonum concilium, mi chare Dionysi_--the advice is good, Mrs.
+O'Shaughnessy, and I myself will, in honor of this day, although I
+have already dined, just take another slice;" and as he spoke he helped
+himself. "Anything to honor a friend," he continued; "but, by the by,
+before I commence, I will try your own prescription, Denis--a whetter of
+this poteen at intervals. Hoch, that's glorious stuff--pure as any one
+of the cardinal virtues, and strong as fortitude, which is the champion
+of them all."
+
+Denis, during these pleasant observations of the priest, sat silent,
+with a countenance pale and apparently dejected. When his mother had
+filled his plate, he gently put it away from him; but poured out a
+little spirits and water, which he drank.
+
+"I cannot eat a morsel," said he; "mother, don't press me, it's
+impossible. We are all assembled here--friends, neighbors, and
+relations--I'll not disguise the fact--but the truth is, I have been
+badly treated this day; I have been, in the most barefaced manner,
+rejected by the Bishop, and a nephew of Father Molony's elected in my
+place."
+
+The effect which this disclosure produced upon the company present,
+especially upon his own family, utterly defies description. His father
+hastily laid down his glass, and his eyes opened to the utmost stretch
+of their lids; his mother let a plate fall which she was in the act of
+handing to one of her daughters, who was about to help a poor beggar at
+the door; all convivial enjoyment was suspended; the priest laid down
+his knife and fork, and fixed his large eyes upon Denis, with his
+mouth full; his young sister, Susan, flew over to his side, and looked
+intensely into his countenance for an explanation of what he meant, for
+she had not properly understood him.
+
+"Rejected!" exclaimed the priest--"rejected! Young man, I am your
+spiritual superior, and I command you, on this occasion, to practise
+no jocularity whatsoever--I lay it upon you as a religious duty to be
+serious and candid, to speak truth, and inform us at once whether what
+you have advanced be true or not?"
+
+"I wish," said Denis, "that it was only jocularity on my part; but
+I solemnly assure you all that it is not. The Bishop told me that I
+suffered myself to be misled as to my qualifications for entrance;
+he says it will take a year and a half's hard study to enable me to
+matriculate with a good grace. I told him that your Reverence examined
+me, and said I was well prepared; and he said to me, in reply, that your
+Reverence was very little of a judge as to my fitness."
+
+"Very well," said the priest, "I thank his lordship; 'tis true, I
+deserved that from him; but it can't be helped. I see, at all events,
+how the land lies. Denis O'Shaughnessy, I pronounce you to be, in the
+first place, an extremely stultified and indiscreet young man; and,
+in the next place, as badly treated and as oppressed a candidate for
+Maynooth as entered it. I pronounce you, in the face of the world, right
+well prepared for it; but I see now who is the spy of the diocese--oh,
+oh, thank you, Misther Molony--I now remimber, that he is related to his
+lordship through the beggarly clan of the M----'s. But wait a little;
+if I have failed here, thank Heaven I have interest in the next diocese,
+the Bishop of which is my cousin, and we will yet have a tug for it."
+
+The mother and sisters of Denis were now drowned in tears; and the grief
+of his sister Susan was absolutely hysterical. Old Denis's brow became
+pale and sorrowful, his eye sunk, and his hand trembled. His friends
+all partook of this serious disappointment, and sat in silence and
+embarrassment around the table. Young Denis's distress was truly
+intense: he could not eat a morsel; his voice was tremulous with
+vexation; and, indeed, altogether the aspect of those present betokened
+the occurrence of some grievous affliction.
+
+"Well," said Brian, Denis's elder brother, "I only say this, that it's
+a good story for him to tell that he is a Bishop, otherwise I'd think no
+more of puttin' a bullet through him from behind a hedge, than I would
+of shootin' a cur dog."
+
+"Don't say that, Brian," said his mother; "bad as it is, he's one of our
+clargy, so don't spake disrespectful of him; sure a year is not much to
+wait, an' the next time you go before him it won't be in his power to
+keep you back. As for Father Molony, we wish, him well, but undher the
+roof of this house, except at a Station, or something else of the kind,
+he will never sit, barrin' I thought it was either dhry or hungry, that
+I wouldn't bring evil upon my substance by refusin' him."
+
+"And that was his lordship's character of me?" inquired the priest once
+more with chagrin.
+
+"If that was not, perhaps you will find it in this letter," replied
+Denis, handing him a written communication from the Bishop. Father
+Finnerty hastily broke open the seal, and read silently as follows:--
+
+
+"_To the Rev. Father Finnerty, peace, and benediction._
+
+"Rev. Sir,
+
+"I feel deep indignation at hearing the disclosure made to me this
+day by the bearer, touching your negotiation with him and his family,
+concerning a horse, as the value paid by them to you for procuring the
+use of my influence in his favor; and I cannot sufficiently reprobate
+such a transaction, nor find terms strong enough in which to condemn the
+parties concerned in it. Sir, I repeat it, that such juggling is
+more reprehensible on your part than on theirs, and that it is doubly
+disrespectful to me, to suppose that I could be influenced by anything
+but merit in the candidates. I desire you will wait upon me to-morrow,
+when I hope you may be able to place the transaction in such a light as
+will raise you once more to the estimation in which I have always held
+you. There are three other candidates, one of whom is a relation of
+your excellent curate's; but I have as yet made no decision, so that the
+appointment is still open. In the meantime, I command you to send back
+the horse to his proper owner, as soon after the receipt of this
+as possible, for O'Shaughnessy must not be shackled by any such
+stipulations. I have now to ask your Christian forgiveness, for having,
+under the influence of temporary anger, spoken of you before this
+lad with disrespect. I hereby make restitution, and beg that you will
+forgive me, and remember me by name in your prayers, as I shall also
+name you in mine.
+
+"I am, etc.,
+
+"+ James M."
+
+
+When Father Finnerty read this letter, his countenance gradually assumed
+an expression of the most irresistible humor; nothing could be more
+truly comic than the significant look he directed toward each individual
+of the O'Shaughnessys, not omitting even the little boy who had basted
+the goose, whom he patted on the head with that mechanical abstraction
+resulting from the occurrence of something highly agreeable. The cast of
+his features was now the more ludicrous, when contrasted with the rueful
+visage he presented on hearing the manner in which his character had
+been delineated by the Bishop. At length he laid himself back in his
+chair, and putting his hands to his sides, fairly laughed out loudly for
+near five minutes.
+
+"Oh!" he exclaimed, "Dionysius, Dionysius, but you are the simple and
+unsophisticated youth! Oh, you _bocaun_ of the wide earth, to come home
+with a long face upon you, telling us that you were rejected, and you
+not rejected."
+
+"Not rejected!--not rejecet!--not rejeckset!--not raxjaxet!" they all
+exclaimed, attempting to pronounce the word as well as they could.
+
+"For the sake of heaven above us, Docthor, don't keep us in doubt one
+minute longer," said old Denis.
+
+"Follow me," said the priest, becoming instantly grave, "follow me,
+Dionysius; follow me Denis More, and Brian, all follow--follow me. I
+have news for you! My friends, we'll be back instantly."
+
+They accordingly passed into another room, where they remained in close
+conference for about a quarter of an hour, after which they re-entered
+in the highest spirits.
+
+"Come," said Denis, "Pether, go over, _abouchal_, to Andy Bradagh's
+for Larry Cassidy the piper--fly like a swallow, Pether, an' don't come
+without him. Mave, achora, all's right. Susy, you darlin', dhry your
+eyes, avourneen, all's right. Nabors, friends--fill, fill--I say all's
+right still. My son's not disgraced, nor he won't be disgraced whilst
+I have a house over my head, or a beast in my stable. Docthor, reverend
+Docthor, drink; may I never sin, but you must get merry an' dance a
+'cut-along' wid myself, when the music comes, and you must thrip the
+priest in his boots wid Susy here afther. Excuse me, nabors--Docthor,
+you won't blame me, there's both joy and sorrow in these tears. I have
+had a good family of childhre, an' a faithful wife; an' Mave, achora,
+although time has laid his mark upon you as well as upon myself, and the
+locks are gray that wor once as black as a raven: yet, Mave, I seen the
+day, an' there's many livin' to prove it--ay, Mave, I seen the day
+when you wor worth lookin' at--the wild rose of Lisbuie she was called,
+Docthor. Well, Mave, I hope that my eyes may be closed by the hands
+I loved an' love so well--an' that's your own, _agrab machree_, an'
+Denis's."
+
+"Whisht, Denis asthore," said Mave, wiping her eyes, "I hope I'll never
+see that day. Afther seein' Denis here, what we all hope him to be, the
+next thing I wish is, that I may never live to see my husband taken away
+from me, acushla; no, I hope God will take me to himself before that
+comes."
+
+There is something touching in the burst of pathetic affection which
+springs strongly from the heart of a worthy couple, when, seated among
+their own family, the feelings of the husband and father, the wife and
+mother, overpower them. In this case, the feeling is always deep in
+proportion to the strength and purity of domestic affection; still it is
+checked by the melancholy satisfaction that our place is to be filled by
+those who are dear to us.
+
+"But now," said the priest, "that the scent lies still warm, let me ask
+you, Dionysius, how the Bishop came to understand the compactum?"
+
+"I really cannot undertake to say," replied Denis; "but if any man has
+an eye like a _basileus_ he has. On finding, sir, that there was some
+defect in my responsive powers, he looked keenly at me, closing his
+piercing-eyes a little, and inquired upon what ground I had presented
+myself as a candidate. I would have sunk the compactum altogether, but
+for the eye. I suspended and hesitated a little, and at length told him
+that there was an understanding--a--a--kind of--in short, he squeezed
+the whole secret out o' me gradationally. You know the result!"
+
+"Ah, Dionysius, you are yet an unfledged bird; but it matters little.
+All will be rectified soon."
+
+"Arrah, Dinis," inquired his mother, "was it only takin' a rise out of
+us you wor all the time? Throth, myself's not the betther of the fright
+you put me into."
+
+"No," replied Denis, "the Bishop treated me harshly, I thought: he said
+I was not properly fit. 'You might pass,' said he, 'upon a particular
+occasion, or under peculiar circumstances; but it will take at least a
+year and a half's study to enable you to enter Maynooth as I would wish
+you. You may go home again,' said he; 'at present I have dismissed the
+subject.'
+
+"After this, on meeting Father Molony, he told me that his cousin had
+passed, and that he would be soon sent up to Maynooth: so I concluded
+all hope was over with me; but I didn't then know what the letter to
+Father Finnerty contained. I now see that I may succeed still."
+
+"You may and shall, Denis; but no thanks to Father Molony for that:
+however, I shall keep my eye upon the same curate, never fear. Well, let
+that pass, and now for harmony, conviviality, and friendship. Gentlemen,
+fill your glasses--I mean your respective vessels. Come, Denis More, let
+that porringer of yours be a brimmer. Ned Hanratty, charge your noggin.
+Darby, although your mug wants an ear, it can hold the full of it. Mrs.
+O'Shaughnessy, that old family cruiskeen ought to be with your husband:
+but no matther--_non constat_--Eh? Dionysi? Intelligible?"
+
+"_Intelligo, domine_."
+
+"Here then is health, success, and prosperity to Mr. Dionysius
+O'Shaughnessy, jun.! May he soon be on the Retreat in the vivacious
+walls of that learned and sprightly seminary, Maynooth! * On the
+Retreat, I say, getting fat upon half a meal a day for the first week,
+fasting tightly against the grain, praying sincerely for a settin' at
+the king's mutton, and repenting thoroughly of his penitence!"
+
+     * This is a passage which I fear few general readers
+     will understand without explanation; the meaning is
+     this:--When a young-man first enters Maynooth College
+     he devotes himself for the space of eight days to
+     fasting and prayer, separating himself as much as
+     possible from all society. He must review his whole
+     life, and ascertain, it he can, whether he has ever
+     left any sin of importance unconfessed, either
+     knowingly or by an emission that was culpably
+     negligent. After this examination, which must be both
+     severe and strict, he makes what is called a General
+     Confession; that is, he confesses all the sins he ever
+     committed as far back and as accurately as he can
+     recollect them. This being over, he enters upon his
+     allotted duties as a student and in good sooth feels
+     himself in admirable trim for "a set-in at the King's
+     Mutton."
+
+"Well, Docthor, that is a toast. Denis, have you nothing to say to that?
+Won't you stand up an' thank his Reverence, anyhow?"
+
+"I am really too much oppressed with relaxation," said Denis, "to return
+thanks in that florid style which would become my pretensions. I cannot,
+however, but thank Father Finnerty for his ingenious and learned toast,
+which does equal honor to his head and heart, and I might superadd,
+to his intellects also; for in drinking toasts, my friends, I always
+elaborate a distinction between strength of head and strength of
+intellect. I now thank you all for having in so liberal a manner drunk
+my health; and in grateful return, I request you will once more fill
+your utensils, and learnedly drink--long life and a mitre to the
+Reverend Father Finnerty, of the Society of St. Dominick, Doctor of
+Divinity and Parochial Priest of this excellent parish!--_Propino tibi
+salutem, Doctor doctissime, reverendissime, et sanctissime; nec non
+omnibus amicis hic congregatis!_"
+
+The priest's eye, during this speech, twinkled with humor; he saw
+clearly that Denis thoroughly understood the raillery of his toast, and
+that the compliment was well repaid. On this subject he did not wish,
+however, to proceed further, and his object now was, that the evening
+should pass off as agreeably as possible.
+
+Next morning Father Finnerty paid Denis a timely visit, having first, as
+he had been directed, sent home the colt a little after day-break. They
+then took an early breakfast, and after about half an hour's further
+deliberation, the priest, old Denis, and his son--the last mounted upon
+the redoubtable colt--proceeded to the Bishop's residence. His lordship
+had nearly finished breakfast, which he took in his study; but as he
+was engaged with his brother, the barrister, who slept at his house the
+night before, in order to attend a public meeting on that day, he
+could not be seen for some time after they arrived. At length they were
+admitted. The Right Reverend Doctor was still seated at the breakfast
+table, dressed in a morning-gown of fine black stuff, such as the
+brothers of the Franciscan order of monks usually wear, to which order
+he belonged. He wore black silk stockings, gold knee-buckles to his
+small-clothes, a rich ruby ring upon his finger, and a small gold cross,
+net with brilliants, about his neck. This last was not usually visible;
+but as he had not yet dressed for the day, it hung over his vest. He
+sat, or rather lolled back in a stuffed easy chair, one leg thrown
+indolently over the other. Though not an old man, he wore powder, which
+gave him an air of greater reverence; and as his features were sharp
+and intelligent, his eye small but keen, and his manner altogether
+impressive and gentlemanly, if not dignified, it was not surprising that
+Father Finnerty's two companions felt awed and embarrassed before him.
+Nor was the priest himself wholly free from that humbling sensation
+which one naturally feels when in the presence of a superior mind in a
+superior station of life.
+
+"Good morning to your lordship!" said the priest, "I am exceedingly
+happy to see you look so well. Counsellor, your most obedient; I hope,
+sir, you are in good health!"
+
+To this both gentlemen replied in the usual commonplace terms.
+
+"Doctor," continued the priest, "this is a worthy dacent parishioner of
+mine, Denis O'Shaughnessy; and this is his son who has the honor to be
+already known to your lordship."
+
+"Sit down, O'Shaughnessy," said the Bishop, "take a seat, young man."
+
+"I humbly thank your lordship," replied Denis the elder, taking a chair
+as he spoke, and laying his hat beside him on the carpet. The son, who
+trembled at the moment from head to foot, did not sit as he was asked,
+but the father, after giving him a pluck, said in a whisper, "Can't
+you sit, when his lordship-bids you." He then took a seat, but appeared
+scarcely to know whether he sat or stood.
+
+"By the by, Doctor, you have improved this place mightily," continued
+Father Finnerty, "since I had the pleasure of being here last. I thought
+I saw a green-house peeping over the garden-wall."
+
+"Yes," replied the Bishop, "I am just beginning to make a collection
+of shrubs and flowers upon a small scale. I believe you are aware that
+tending and rearing flowers, Mr. Finnerty, is a favorite amusement with
+me."
+
+"I believe I have a good right to know as much, Dr. M------," replied
+Mr. Finnerty.
+
+"If I don't mistake, I sent you some specimens for your garden that were
+not contemptible. And if I don't mistake again, I shall be able to send
+your lordship a shrub that would take the pearl off a man's eye only to
+look at it. And what's more, it's quite a new-comer; not two years in
+the country."
+
+"Pray how is it called, Mr. Finnerty."
+
+"Upon my credit, Doctor, with great respect, I will tell you nothing
+more about it at present. If you wish to see it, or to know its name, or
+to get a slip of it, you must first come and eat a dinner with me. And,
+Counsellor, if you, too, could appear on your own behalf, so much the
+better."
+
+"I fear I cannot, Mr. Finnerty, but I dare say my brother will do
+himself the pleasure of dining with you."
+
+"It cannot be for at least six weeks, Mr. Finnerty," said the Bishop.
+"You forget that the confirmations begin in ten days; but I shall have
+the pleasure of dining with you when I come to confirm in your parish."
+
+"Phoo! Why, Doctor, that's a matter of course. Couldn't your lordship
+make it convenient to come during the week, and bring the Counsellor
+here with you? Don't say no, Counsellor; I'll have no demurring."
+
+"Mr. Finnerty," said the Bishop, "it is impossible at present. My
+brother goes to Dublin to-morrow, and I must go on the following day to
+attend the consecration of a chapel in the metropolis."
+
+"Then upon my credit, your lordship will get neither the name nor
+description of my Facia, until you earn it by eating a dinner, and
+drinking a glass of claret with the Rev. Father Finnerty. Are those hard
+terms, Counsellor?--Ha! ha! ha! I'm not the man to put off a thing, I
+assure you."
+
+"Mr. Finnerty," said the Bishop, smiling at, but not noticing the worthy
+priest's blunder about the Fucia, "if possible, I shall dine with you
+soon; but at present it is out of my power to appoint a day."
+
+"Well, well, Doctor, make your own time of it; and now for the
+purport of our journey. Denis O'Shaughnessy here, my lord, is a warm,
+respectable parishioner of mine--a man indeed for whom I have a great
+regard. He is reported to have inherited from his worthy father, two
+horns filled with guineas. His grandmother, as he could well inform your
+lordship, was born with a lucky caul upon her, which caul is still in
+the family. Isn't it so, Denis?"
+
+"My lord, in dignity, it's truth," replied Denis, "and from the time it
+came into the family they always thruv, thanks be to goodness!"
+
+The lawyer sat eyeing the priest and Denis alternately, evidently
+puzzled to comprehend what such a remarkable introduction could lead to.
+
+The Bishop seemed not to be surprised, for his features betrayed no
+change whatsoever.
+
+"Having, therefore, had the necessary means of educating a son for the
+church, he has accordingly prepared this young man with much anxiety and
+expense for Maynooth."
+
+"Plase your lordship," said Denis, "Docthor Finnerty is clothin' it
+betther than I could do. My heart is fixed upon seein' him what we all
+expect him to be, your lordship."
+
+"Mr. Finnerty," observed the Bishop, "you seem to be intimately
+acquainted with O'Shaughnessy's circumstances; you appear to take a warm
+interest in the family, particularly in the success of his son."
+
+"Undoubtedly my lord; I am particularly anxious for his success."
+
+"You received my letter yesterday?"
+
+"I am here to-day, my lord, in consequence of having received it. But,
+by the by, there was, under favor, a slight misconception on the part of
+your--"
+
+"What misconception, sir!"
+
+"Why, my lord--Counsellor, this is a--a--kind of charge his lordship is
+bringing against me, under a slight misconception. My lord, the fact is,
+that I didn't see what ecclesiastical right I had to prevent Denis here
+from disposing of his own property to--"
+
+"I expect an apology from you, Mr. Finnerty, but neither a defence nor
+a justification. An attempt at either will not advance the interests of
+your young friend, believe me."
+
+"Then I have only to say that the wish expressed in your lordship's
+letter has been complied with. But wait awhile, my lord," continued the
+priest, good-humoredly, "I shall soon turn the tables on yourself."
+
+"How is that, pray?"
+
+"Why, my lord, the horse is in your stable, and Denis declares he will
+not take him out of it."
+
+"I have not the slightest objection to that," replied the Bishop, "upon
+the express condition that his son shall never enter Maynooth."
+
+"For my part," observed Mr. Finnerty, "I leave the matter now between
+your lordship and O'Shaughnessy himself. You may act as you please,
+Doctor, and so may he."
+
+"Mr. Finnerty, if I could suppose for a moment that the suggestion of
+thus influencing me originated with you, I would instantly deprive you
+of your parish, and make you assistant to your excellent curate, for
+whom I entertain a sincere regard. I have already expressed my opinion
+of the transaction alluded to in my letter. You have frequently offended
+me, Mr. Finnerty, by presuming too far upon my good temper, and by
+relying probably upon your own jocular disposition. Take care, sir, that
+you don't break down in some of your best jokes. I fear that under
+the guise of humor, you frequently avail yourself of the weakness, or
+ignorance, or simplicity of your parishioners. I hope, Mr. Finnerty,
+that while you laugh at the jest, they don't pay for it."
+
+The priest here caught the Counsellor's eye, and gave him a dry wink,
+not unperceived, however, by the Bishop, who could scarcely repress a
+smile.
+
+"You should have known me better, Mr. Finnerty, than to suppose that any
+motive could influence me in deciding upon the claims of candidates for
+Maynooth, besides their own moral character and literary acquirements.
+So long as I live, this, and this alone, shall be the rule of my
+conduct, touching persons in the circumstances of young O'Shaughnessy."
+
+"My gracious lord," said Denis, "don't be angry wid Mr. Finnerty. I'll
+bear it all, for it was my fau't. The horse is mine, and say what
+you will, out of your stable I'll never bring him. I think, wid great
+sibmission a man may do what he pleases wid his own."
+
+"Certainly," said the Bishop; "my consent to permit your son to goto
+Maynooth is my own. Now this consent I will not give if you press that
+mode of argument upon me."
+
+"My Reverend Lord, as heaven's above me, I'd give all I'm worth to see
+the boy in Maynooth. If he doesn't go afther all our hopes, I'd break my
+heart." He was so deeply affected that the large tears rolled down his
+cheeks as he spoke.
+
+"Will your Lordship buy the horse?" he added; "I don't want him, and
+you, maybe, do?"
+
+"I do not want him," said the Bishop, "and if I did, I would not, under
+the present circumstances, purchase him from you."
+
+"Then my boy won't get in, your lordship. And you'll neither buy the
+horse, nor take him as a present. My curse upon him for a horse! The
+first thing I'll do when I get home will be to put a bullet through him,
+for he has been an unlucky thief to us. Is my son aquil to the others,
+that came to pass your lordship?" asked Denis.
+
+"There is none of them properly qualified," said the Bishop. "If there
+be any superiority among them your son has it. He is not without natural
+talent, Mr. Finnerty; his translations are strong and fluent, but
+ridiculously pedantic. That, however, is perhaps less his fault than the
+fault of those who instructed him."
+
+"Are you anxious to dispose of the horse?" said the Counsellor.
+
+"A single day, sir, he'll never pass in my stable," said Denis; "he has
+been an unlucky baste to me an' mine, an' to all that had anything to do
+wid him."
+
+"Pray what age is he?"
+
+"Risin' four, sir; 'deed I believe he's four all out, an' a purty
+devil's clip he is, as you'd wish to see."
+
+"Come," said the Counsellor, rising, "let us have a look at him.
+Mr. Finnerty, you're an excellent judge; will you favor me with your
+opinion?"
+
+The priest and he, accompanied by the two O'Shaughnessys, passed out to
+the stable yard, where their horses stood. As they went, Father Finnerty
+whispered to O'Shaughnessy:--
+
+"Now, Denis, is your time. Strike while the iron is hot. Don't take
+a penny!--don't take a fraction! Get into a passion, and swear you'll
+shoot him unless he accepts him as a present. If he does, all's right;
+he can twine the Bishop round his finger."
+
+"I see, sir," said Denis; "I see! Let me alone for managin' him."
+
+The barrister was already engaged in examining the horse's mouth, as is
+usual, when the priest accosted him with--
+
+"You are transgressing etiquette in this instance, Counsellor. You know
+the proverb--never look a gift horse in the mouth."
+
+"How, Mr. Finnerty?--a gift horse!"
+
+"His Reverence is right!" exclaimed Denis: "the sorra penny ever will
+cross my pocket for the same horse. You must take him as he stands, sir,
+barrin' the bridle an' saddle, that's not my own."
+
+"He will take no money," said the priest.
+
+"Nonsense, my dear sir! Why not take a fair price for him?"
+
+"Divil the penny will cross my pocket for him, the unlucky thief!"
+replied the shrewd farmer.
+
+"Then in that case the negotiation is ended," replied the barrister.
+"I certainly will not accept him as a present. Why should I? What claim
+have I on Mr. O'Shaughnessy?"
+
+"I don't want you to take him," said Denis; "I want nobody to take him:
+but I know the dogs of the parish 'll be pickin' his bones afore night.
+You may as well have him, sir, as not."
+
+"Is the man serious, Mr. Finnerty?"
+
+"I never saw a man in my life having a more serious appearance, I assure
+you," said the priest.
+
+"By Jove, it's a queer business," replied the other: "a most
+extraordinary affair as I ever witnessed! Why, it would be madness
+to destroy such a fine animal as that! The horse is an excellent one!
+However, I shall certainly not accept him, until I ascertain whether I
+can prevail upon the bishop to elect his son to this vacancy. If I can
+make the man no return for him, I shall let him go to the dogs."
+
+"Go up and set to work," said the priest; "but remember that _tace_ is
+Latin for a candle. Keep his lordship in the dark, otherwise this scion
+is ousted."
+
+"True," said the other. "In the meantime bring them into the parlor
+until I try what can be done."
+
+"Take the Bishop upon the father's affection for him," said the priest.
+
+"You are right. I am glad you mentioned it."
+
+"The poor man will break his heart," said the priest.
+
+"He will," responded the Counsellor smiling.
+
+"So will the mother, too," said the priest, with an arch look.
+
+"And the whole family," replied the Counsellor.
+
+"Go up instantly," said the priest; "you have often got a worse fee."
+
+"And, perhaps, with less prospect of success," said the other.
+"Gentlemen, have the goodness to walk into the parlor for a few minutes,
+while I endeavor to soften my brother a little, if I can, upon this
+untoward business."
+
+When the priest and his two friends entered the parlor, which was
+elegantly furnished, they stood for a moment to survey it.
+
+Old Denis, however, was too much engaged in the subject which lay
+nearest his heart to take pleasure in anything else; at least until he
+should hear the priest's opinion upon the posture of affairs.
+
+"What does your reverence think?" said Denis.
+
+"Behave yourself," replied the pastor. "None of your nonsense! You know
+what I think as well as I do myself."
+
+"But will Dionnisis pass?--Will he go to Maynooth?"
+
+"Will you go to your dinner to-day, or to your bed to-night?"
+
+"God be praised! Well, Docthor, wait till we see him off, then I'll be
+spakin' to you!"
+
+"No," said the priest; "but wait till you tike a toss upon this sofa,
+and then you will get a taste of ecclesiastical luxury."
+
+"Ay," said Denis, "but would it be right o' me to sit in it? Maybe it's
+consecrated."
+
+"Faith, you may swear that; but it is to the ease and comfort of his
+lordship! Come, man, sit down, till you see how you'll sink in it."
+
+"Oh, murdher!" exclaimed Denis, "where am I at all? Docthor dear, am I
+in sight? Do you see the crown o' my head, good or bad? Oh, may I never
+sin, but that's great state!--Well, to be sure!"
+
+"Ay," said the priest, "see what it is to be a bishop in any church! The
+moment a man becomes a bishop, he fastens tooth and nail upon luxury,
+as if a mitre was a dispensation for enjoying the world that they have
+sworn to renounce. Dionysius, look about you! Isn't this worth studying
+for?"
+
+"Yes," replied the hitherto silent candidate, "if it was perusal on the
+part of his lordship that got it."
+
+"Upon my credit, a shrewd observation! Ah, Dionysius, merit
+is overlooked in every church, and in every profession; or
+perhaps--hem!--ehem!--perhaps some of your reverend friends might be
+higher up! I mean nobody; but if sound learning, and wit, and humor,
+together with several other virtues which I decline enumerating, could
+secure a mitre, why mitres might be on other brows."
+
+"This is surely great state," observed the candidate; "and if it be a
+thing that I matriculate--"
+
+"And yet," said the priest, interrupting him, "this same bishop--who is,
+no doubt, a worthy man, but who has no natural ear for a jest--was once
+upon a time the priest of an indifferent good parish, like myself; ay,
+and a poor, cowardly, culprit-looking candidate, ready to sink into the
+earth, before his bishop, like you."
+
+"Me cowardly!" said the candidate: "I decline the insinuation
+altogether. It was nothing but veneration and respect, which you know we
+should entertain for all our spiritual superiors."
+
+"That's truth decidedly; though, at the same time, your nerves were
+certainly rather entangled, like a ravelled hank. But no matter, man;
+we have all felt the same in our time. Did you observe how I managed the
+bishop?"
+
+"I can't say I did," replied the candidate, who felt hurt at the
+imputation of cowardice before his father; "but I saw, sir, that the
+bishop managed you."
+
+"Pray for a longer vision, Dionysius. I tell you that no other priest in
+the diocese could have got both you and me out of the dilemma in which
+we stood but myself. He has taken to the study of weeds and plants in
+his old days; and I, who have a natural taste for botany, know it is his
+weak side. I tell you, he would give the right of filling a vacancy in
+Maynooth, any day in the year, for a rare plant or flower. So much for
+your knowledge of human nature. You'll grant I managed the Counsellor?"
+
+"Between my father and you, sir, things look well. We have not, however,
+got a certificate of success yet."
+
+"_Patientia fit levior ferendo!_--Have patience, man. Wait till we see
+the Counsellor!"
+
+He had scarcely uttered the last words when that gentleman entered.
+
+"Well, Counsellor," said the priest, "is it a hit?"
+
+"Pray what is your Christian name, Mr. O'Shaughnessy?" inquired the
+lawyer o! young Denis.
+
+"My Christian name, sir," replied Denis, "is Di-o-ny-si-us
+O'Shaughnessy. That, sir, is the name by which I am always appellated."
+
+"That's quite sufficient," said the other, "I shall be with you again
+in a few minutes."
+
+"But won't you give us a hint, my good sir, as to how the land lies?"
+said the priest, as the lawyer left the room.
+
+"Presently, Mr. Finnerty, presently."
+
+"Intelligisme, Dionisi?"
+
+"Vix, Domine. Quid sentis?"
+
+"Quid sentis! No, but it was good fortune sent us. Don't you persave,
+Dionysius, and you, Denis--don't you know, I say, that this letter of
+admission couldn't be written except the bishop knew his name in full?
+Unlucky! Faith if ever a horse was lucky this is he."
+
+"I declare, Docthor," said the father, "I can neither sit nor stand, nor
+think of any one thing for a minute, I'm so much on the fidgets to know
+what the Bishop 'ill say."
+
+"I also," said Dionysius, "am in state of evaporation and uncertainty
+touching the same point. However, this I can affirm with veracity, that
+if I am rejected, my mind is made up to pursue an antithetical course of
+life altogether. If he rejects me now, he will never reject me again."
+
+"Musha, how--Denny--Dionysis, avick? What do you mane?" said the father.
+
+"I will give," said the son, "what is designated a loose translation of
+my meaning to Mr. Finnerty here, if I find that I am excluded on this
+occasion."
+
+"And if you do succeed," said the priest, "I would advise you to hire
+a loose translator during the remainder of your residence among us; for
+upon my veracity, Dionysius, the King's English will perform hard duty
+until you enter Maynooth. Not a word under six feet will be brought into
+the ranks--grenadiers every one of them, not to mention the thumpers you
+will coin."
+
+"Come, Docthor Finnerty," said our candidate, pulling up a little, "if
+the base Latin which you put into circulation were compared with
+my English thumpers, it would be found that of the two, I am more
+legitimate and etymological."
+
+"I shall be happy to dispute that point with you another time," said the
+priest, "when we can--Silence, here comes the Counsellor."
+
+"Mr. O'Shaughnessy," said the lawyer, addressing the candidate, "allow
+me to congratulate you on your success! Your business is accomplished.
+The Bishop is just finishing a letter for you to the President of
+Maynooth. I assure you, I feel great pleasure at your success."
+
+"Accept my thanks, sir," said Denis, whose eye was instantly lit up with
+delight--"accept my most obsequious thanks to the very furthest extent
+of my gratitude."
+
+The Barrister then shook hands with old Denis. "O'Shaughnessy," said he,
+"I am very happy that I have had it in my power to serve you and your
+son."
+
+"Counsellor," said Denis, seizing his hand in both of his--"Counsellor,
+_ahagur machree_ Counsellor, oh, what--what--can I say!--Is he--is it
+possible--is it thruth that my boy is to go to Maynewth this time? Oh,
+if you knew, but knew, the heavy, dead weight you tuck off o' my heart!
+Our son not cast aside--not disgraced!--for what else would the people
+think it? The horse!--a poor bit of a coult--a poor unsignified animal!
+To the devil wid him. What is he compared to the joy an' delight of
+this minute? Take him, sir; take him--an' if he was worth his weight
+in goold, I vow to Heaven above me, I'd not think him too good. Too
+good!--no, nor half good enough for you. God remimber this to you!
+an' he will, too. Little you know the happiness you have given us,
+Counsellor! Little you know it. But no matther! An' you, too, Father
+Finnerty, helped to bring this about. But sure you were ever an' always
+our friend! Well, no matther--no matther! God will reward you both."
+
+"My brother wishes me to see Mr. Finnerty and your son," said the
+barrister; "I think they had better go up to him. He is anxious to get a
+slip of your shrub, Mr. Finnerty."
+
+"Ah, I thought so," said the priest--"I thought as much."
+
+The Bishop, on their reappearance, presented Denis with the long
+wished-for letter. He then gave him a suitable exhortation with
+reference to the serious and responsible duties for which he was about
+to prejjare himself. After concluding his admonition, he addressed
+Father Finnerty as follows:
+
+"Now Mr. Finnerty, this matter has ended in a manner satisfactory, not
+only to your young friend, but to yourself. You must promise me that
+there shall be no more horse-dealing. I do not think jockeying of that
+description either creditable or just. I am unwilling to use harsher
+language, but I could not conscientiously let it pass without reproof.
+In the next place, will you let me have a slip of that flowering shrub
+you boast of?"
+
+"Doctor," said the priest, "is it possible you ask it of me? Why, I
+think your lordship ought to know that it's your own, as is every plant
+and flower in my garden that you fancy. Do you dine at home to-morrow,
+my lord?"
+
+"I do," said the Bishop. "Well, then, I shall come up with a slip or two
+of it, and dine with you. I know the situation in which it grows best;
+and knowing this, I will put it down with my own hands. But I protest,
+my lord, against you allowing me to be traced in the business of the
+shrub at all, otherwise I shall have the whole county on my back."
+
+"Be under no apprehension of that, Mr. Finnerty. I shall be happy if you
+dine with me; but bring it with you. How did you come to get it so early
+after its appearance in this country?"
+
+"I got it from headquarters, Doctor---from one of the best botanists in
+the three kingdoms; certainly from the best Irish botanist living--my
+friend, Mr Mackay, of the College Botanic Gardens. My lord, I wish you
+good morning; but before I go, accept my thanks for your kindness to my
+young friend. I assure you he will be a useful man; for he is even now
+no indifferent casuist."
+
+"And I, my lord," said Denis, "return you my most grateful--hem--my most
+grateful--and--most supercilious thanks for the favor--the stupendous
+favor you have conferred upon me."
+
+"God bless you, my dear child," returned the bishop; "but if you be
+advised by me, speak more intelligibly. Use plain words, and discard all
+difficult and pedantic expressions. God bless you! Farewell!"
+
+On coming down, they found old Denis in the stable-yard in rather a
+ridiculous kind of harness. The saddle that had been on the colt was
+strapped about him with the bridle, for both had been borrowed from a
+neighbor.
+
+"Dionnisis an' I must both ride the same horse," said he, "an' as we
+have two saddles, I must carry one of them."
+
+An altercation then ensued as to which should ride foremost. The son,
+now in high glee, insisted on the father's taking the seat of honor; but
+the father would not hear of this. The lad was, in his opinion, at least
+semi-clerical, and to ride behind would be a degradation to so learned
+a youth. They mounted at length, the son foremost, and the father on the
+crupper, the saddle strapped about him, with the stirrups dangling by
+the horse's flanks. Father Finnerty, who accompanied them, could not,
+however, on turning from the bishop's grounds into the highway, get a
+word out of them. The truth is, both their hearts were full; both were,
+therefore, silent, and thought every minute an hour until they reached
+home.
+
+This was but natural. A man may conceal calamity or distress even from
+his dearest friends; for who is there who wishes to be thrust back from
+his acknowledged position in life? Or who, when he is thrust back, will
+not veil his misfortunes or his errors with the guise of indifference or
+simulation? In good fortune we act differently. It is a step advanced;
+an elevation gained; there is nothing to fear, or to be ashamed of, and
+we are strongly prompted by vanity to proclaim it to the world, as we
+are by pride to ascribe its occurrence to our own talents or virtues.
+There are other and purer motives for this. The affections will not be
+still; they seek the hearts to which they tend; and having found them,
+the mutual interchange of good takes place. Father Finnerty--whose
+heart, though a kind one, had, probably, been too long out of practice
+to remember the influence and working of the domestic affections--could
+not comprehend the singular conduct of the two O'Shaughnessys.
+
+"What the devil is the matter with you?" he inquired. "Have you lost the
+use of your speech?"
+
+"Push an' avourneen," said the father to Denis--"push an; lay the spur to
+him. Isn't your spur on the right foot?"
+
+"Most certainly," said Denis, now as pedantic as ever--"most certainly
+it is. You are not to be informed that our family spur is a right-foot
+spur."
+
+"Well, then, Peter Gallagher's spur that I have an is a left-foot spur,
+for it's an my left foot."
+
+"You are a bright pair," said the priest, somewhat nettled at their
+neglect of him--"you are a bright pair, and deeply learned in spurs.
+Can't you ride asier?"
+
+"Never heed him," said the father, in a whisper; "do you, give the mare
+the right spur, an' I'll give her the left. Push an! that's it."
+
+They accordingly dashed forwrard, Denis plying, one heel, and the father
+another, until the priest found himself gradually falling behind.
+In vain he plied both spurs; in vain he whipped, and wriggled on the
+saddle, and pressed forwrard his hack. Being a priest's horse, the
+animal had been accustomed for the last twelve years to a certain
+jog-trot-pace, beyond which it neither would nor could go. On finding
+all his efforts to overtake them unsuccessful, he at last shouted after
+them.
+
+"Do you call that gratitude, my worthy friends? To lave me creeping over
+the ups and downs of this villanous road without company?"
+
+"Lay an, aroon," said the father. "Let us get home. Oh, how your poor
+mother will die with joy, an' Susy, an' Nanny, an' Brian, an' Michael,
+an' Dick, an' Lanty, an' all o' them. Glory be to Heaven! what a meetin'
+we'll have! An' the nabors, too! Push an' avick machree."
+
+"My curse upon you, Friar Hennessy!" exclaimed the priest, in a
+soliloquy, "it was you who first taught this four-footed snail to go
+like a thief to the gallows. I wish to Heaven you had palmed him on some
+one else, for many a dinner I have lost by him in my time. Is that your
+gratitude, gentlemen? Do I deserve this?"
+
+"What is he sayin'?" said the father.
+
+"He is declaiming about gratitude," replied Denis.
+
+"Lay-an' her," said the father. "Poor Mave!"
+
+"Such conduct does you credit," shouted the priest. "It's just the way
+of the world. You have got what you wanted out of me, an' now you throw
+me off. However, go on."
+
+"What's that?" said the father again.
+
+"He is desiring us to go on,' replied the son.
+
+"Then, in the name o' Goodness, do so, avourneen. Susy will die
+downright."
+
+"Where am I to dine to-day?" shouted the priest, in a louder voice. "I
+say, where am I to come in for my dinner, for I'm not expected at home,
+and my curate dines out?"
+
+"I can't hear him," said the father.
+
+"He says the curate dines out; an' he wants to know if he's to dine with
+us."
+
+"Throth, an' he won't; not that we begrudge it to him; but for this day
+the sarra one we'll have but our own relations. Push an. An' Brian, too,
+poor fellow, that was always so proud of you!"
+
+They had now reached the top of an ascent on the road, whilst the
+priest toiled up after them. In a few minutes they began to descend, and
+consequently were out of his sight.
+
+No description of mine could give an adequate perception to the reader
+of what was felt by the family on hearing that the object of Denis's
+hopes, and their own proud ambition, was at length accomplished. The
+Bishop's letter was looked at, turned in every direction, and the seal
+inspected with a kind of wonderful curiosity, such as a superstitious
+person would manifest on seeing and touching some sacred relic. The
+period appointed for his departure now depended upon the despatch with
+which they could equip him for college. But until this event should
+arrive, his friends lost no opportunity of having him among them.
+Various were the treats he got in fair and markets. Proud were his
+relations when paying' him the respect which he felt right sincere
+pleasure in receiving. The medium between dignity and humility which he
+hit off in these scenes, was worthy o'f being recorded; but, to do him
+justice, his forte lay in humility. He certainly condescended with a
+grace, and made them feel the honor done them by his vouchsafing to
+associate with such poor creatures as if he was one of themselves. To
+do them also justice, they appeared to feel his condescension; and, as
+a natural consequence, were ready to lick the very dust under his feet,
+considering him, as they did, a priest in everything but ordination.
+
+Denis, besides his intercourse with humble relatives, was now asked to
+dine with the neighboring clergymen, and frequently made one at their
+parties. In the beginning, his high opinion and awe of the clerical
+character kept him remarkably dull and sheepish. Many an excellent joke
+was cracked at his expense; and often did he ask himself what Phadrick
+Murray, his father's family, or his acquaintances in general, would
+say, if they saw his learning and his logic so villanously degraded.
+In proportion, however, as conviviality developed among his reverend
+friends many defects, opinions, and failings, which he never suspected
+them to possess, so did he begin to gather courage and facility of
+expression. By degrees he proceeded modestly from the mild and timid
+effort at wit to the steadier nerve of moderate confidence--another step
+brought him to the indifference of a man who can bear an unsuccessful
+attempt at pleasantry, without being discomposed; the third and last
+stage advanced him to downright assurance, which having reached, he
+stopped at nothing. From this forward he began to retort upon his
+clerical companions, who found that the sheepish youth whom they had
+often made ridiculous, possessed skill, when properly excited, to foil
+them at their own weapons. He observed many things in their convivial
+meetings. The holy man, whom his flock looked upon as a being of the
+highest sanctity, when lit up into fun and frolic, Denis learned to
+estimate at his just value. He thought, besides, that a person resolved
+to go to heaven, had as good a chance of being saved by the direct
+mercy of God, as through the ministration of men, whose only spiritual
+advantage over himself consisted in the mere fact of being in orders.
+To be sure, he saw the usual exceptions among them that are to be found
+among every other class; but he drew his conclusions from the general
+rule. All this, however, failed in removing that fundamental principle
+of honest superstition in which he had been trained. The clergymen whom
+he saw were only a few who constituted the great body of the church; but
+when the long and sanctified calendar of saints and miracles opened
+upon him, there still remained enough to throw a dim and solemn charm of
+shadowy pomp around the visions of a mind naturally imaginative.
+
+Messengers were once more sent abroad, to inform their friends of his
+triumph, who, on ascertaining that his journey was fixed for an early
+day, lost no time in pouring in, each with some gift suited to
+their circumstances. Some of these were certainly original, the
+appropriateness having been in every case determined by the wealth or
+poverty, ignorance, or knowledge, of those who offered them. Some poor
+relation, for instance, brought him a shirt or two of materials so
+coarse, that to wear it in a college would be out of the question;
+others offered him a pair of brogues, much too vulgar for the society he
+was about to enter; others, again, would present him with books--for
+it is not at all uncommon to find in many illiterate Irish families
+half-a-dozen old volumes of whose contents they are ignorant, lying in
+a dusty corner, where they are kept till some young scion shall be
+sufficiently instructed to peruse them. The names of these were singular
+enough. One presented him with "The Necessity of Penance;" another with
+"Laugh and be Fat;" a third with the "Key of Paradise;" a fourth
+with "Hell Open;" a fifth handed him a copy of the "Irish Rogues and
+Rapparees; a sixth gave him "Butler's Lives of Saints;" a seventh "The
+Necessity of Fasting;" an eighth "The Epicure's _Vade Mecum_." The list
+ran on very ludicrously. Among them were the "Garden of Love and Royal
+Flower of Fidelity;" "An Essay on the Virtue of Celibacy;" and another
+"On the Increase of Population in Ireland." To these we may add "The
+Devil upon Two Sticks," and "The Life of St. Anthony."
+
+"Take these, Misther Denis," said the worthy souls; "they're of no use
+to us at all at all; but they'll sarve you, of coorse, where you're
+goin', bekase when you want books in the college you can use them."
+
+Honest Phadrick Murray, in lieu of a more valuable present, brought him
+his wife's largest and best shawl as a pocket handkerchief.
+
+"Katty, sir, sent you this," said Phadrick, "as a pocket handkerchy; an'
+be gorra, Mither Denis, if you begin at this corner, an' take it out o'
+the face, it'll last you six months at a time, any how."
+
+Another neighbor came with a _cool_ of rendered lard, hoping it might be
+serviceable.
+
+"Norah, sir," said the honest friend who brought it, "sent you a' crock
+of her own lard. When, you're makin' colcanon, sir, or _sthilk_,* in
+the college, if you slip in a lamp of this, it'll save you the price of
+bufther. The grace 'ill be useful to you, whether or not; an' they say
+there's a scarcity of it in the college.".
+
+     * Sthilk is made by bruising a quantity of boiled
+     Potatoes and beans together. The potatoes, however,
+     having first been reduced to a pulpy state, the beans
+     are but partially broken. It is then put into dish, and
+     a pound of butter or rendered lard thrust into the
+     middle of it.
+
+A third brought him an oak sapling to keep in his hand about the
+purlieus of the establishment.
+
+"We know," said he, "that you're given to arguin' an' to that thing
+you call logic, Misther Denis. Now, sir, if you're ever hard set in
+an argument or the like o' that, or if any o' the shthudjeents 'ud be
+throuble-some or imperant, why give them a touch o' this--a lick of it,
+do you see; jist this a way. First come wid a back sthroke upon the left
+ear, if they want to be properly convinced; an' thin agin' afore they
+have time to recover, come down wid a visitation upon the kidney, My
+life for yours, they'll soon let you alone. Nothin' puzzles one in an
+argument more than it does."
+
+"Ay," said Denis, "that is what they call--in the books the _argumentum
+baculinum_. I accept your present, Roger; but I flatter myself I shall
+be a match for any of the collegians without having recourse to the
+argumentum baculinum."
+
+A poor old widow, who was distantly related to them, came upwards of
+four miles with two or three score of eggs, together with a cock and
+hen; the eggs for his own use, and the latter for breeding in Maynooth.
+"Avourneen, Misther O'Shaughnessy," said she, in broken English, "when
+you ate out all the eggs, maybe you could get a sonsy little corner
+about the collegian that you're goin' to larn to be a priest in, an'
+put them both into it; "--pointing at the same time to the cock and
+hen--"an' whishper," she continued, in a low friendly voice, "if you
+could get a weeshy wisp o' sthraw, an slip it undher your own bed, it
+would make a nest for them, an' they'd lay an egg for your breakfast all
+days in the year. But, achora, don't let them be widout a nest egg; an'
+whishper--maybe you'd breed a clackin' out o' them, that you might
+sell. Sure they'd help to buy duds of cloes for you; or you might make
+presents of the crathurs to the blessed an' holy collegian himself.
+Wouldn't it be good to have him an your side?--He'd help to make a
+gintleman of you, any way. Faix, sure he does it for many, they say. An'
+whishper--the breed, avourneen, is good; an' I'm not afeard to say that
+there never was sich a chicken in the whole collegian, as the ould cock
+himself. He's the darlin' all out, an' can crow so stoutly, that it
+bates the world. Sure his comb's a beauty to look at, the darlin'; an'
+only it's to yourself, an' in regard of the blessed place he's goin' to,
+I wouldn't part wid him to nobody whatsomever, at all, good or bad."
+
+The most original gift of all was a purse, formed of a small bladder,
+ingeniously covered with silk. It was given to him by his uncle, as a
+remembrance of him, in the first place; and secondly, for a more special
+purpose.
+
+"This will sarve you, sir," said his uncle, "an' I'll tell you how: if
+you want to smuggle in a sup of good whiskey--as of coorse you will,
+plase goodness--why this houlds exactly a pint, an' is the very thing
+for it. The sorra one among them will ever think of searchin' your
+purse, at least for whiskey. Put it in your pocket, Misther Dionmsis;
+an' I'd take it as a great kindness if you'd write me a scrape or two of
+the pen, mentionin' what a good parish 'ud be worth: you'll soon be able
+to tell me, for I've some notion myself of puttin' Barny to Latin."
+
+Denis was perfectly aware of the honest warmth of heart with which these
+simple tokens of esteem were presented to him; and young as he was,
+his knowledge of their habits and prejudices prevented him from
+disappointing them by a refusal. He consequently accepted everything
+offered him, appropriated to himself whatever was suitable to his wants,
+converted the remainder into pocket-money, and, of course, kept his
+conscience void of offence toward them all: a state of Christian virtue
+which his refusal of any one gift would have rendered difficult.
+
+On the day before his departure the friends and relations of the family
+assembled to hold their farewell meeting. The same spirit which marked
+all their rustic symposia presided in this; if we except a feeling of
+sorrow natural to his family on being separated from one they loved so
+affectionately. Denis, who was never deficient in warmth of feeling,
+could not be insensible to the love and pride with which his family had
+always looked upon him. Ambition, as he approached it, lost much of
+its fictitious glitter. A sense of sorrow, if not of remorse, for the
+fastidious and overbearing spirit he had manifested to them, pressed
+upon his heart. Pride, in fact, was expelled; nature resumed her empire
+over him; he looked upon the last two months of his life as a man would
+be apt to do who had been all that time under the dominion of a feverish
+dream. We do not say, however, that either ambition or superstition was
+thoroughly expelled from his mind; for it is hard at all times to root
+them out of the system of man: but they ceased to govern him altogether.
+A passion, too, as obstinate as either of them, was determined to
+dispute their power. The domestic affections softened his heart; but
+love, which ambition left for dead, was only stunned; it rose again, and
+finding a favorable position, set its seal to his feelings.
+
+Denis himself, some days before that appointed for his departure, became
+perfectly conscious that his affections were strongly fixed upon Susan
+Connor. The nature of their last interview filled him with shame; nay,
+more, it inspired him with pity for the fair, artless girl whom he
+had so unfeelingly insulted. The manner in which he had won her young
+affections; the many tender interviews that had passed between them; the
+sacred promises of unchangeable love they had made to each other: all
+crowded to his imagination with a power which reduced his spiritual
+ambition and ecclesiastical pride, at least to the possession only of a
+divided empire. He had, therefore, with his book in his hand as
+usual, taken many solitary walks for the preceding few days, with the
+expectation of meeting Susan. He heard that for the last month or six
+weeks she had looked ill, been in low spirits, and lost her health. The
+cause of this change, though a secret to the world, was known to him. He
+knew, indeed, that an interview between them was indispensable; but had
+it not been so, we question whether he would have been able to leave
+home without seeing her.
+
+His evening strolls, however, up until the day before his setting out
+for college, were fruitless. Susan, who heretofore had been in the habit
+of walking in the evenings among the green dells around her father's
+house, was ever since their last meeting almost invisible. In the
+meantime, as the day before that of his leaving the neighborhood had
+arrived, and as an interview with her was, in a religious point of view,
+essentially necessary, he took his book in the course of the evening,
+and by a path slightly circuitous, descended the valley that ran between
+his father's house and hers. With solemn strides he perambulated it in
+every direction--north, south, east, and west; not a natural bower in
+the glen was unexplored; not a green, quiet nook unsearched; not a shady
+tree unexam-ined; but all to no purpose. Yet, although he failed in
+meeting herself, a thousand objects brought her to his heart. Every
+dell, natural bower, and shady tree, presented him with a history of
+their past affections. Here was the spot where, with beating heart
+and crimson cheek, she had first breathed out in broken music the
+acknowledgment of her love; there had another stolen meeting, a thousand
+times the sweeter for being stolen, taken place. Every spot, in fact,
+was dear to him, and every object associated itself with delightful
+emotions that kindled new life in a spirit from which their parent
+affections had not yet passed away.
+
+Denis now sought the only other place where he had any likelihood of
+meeting her: this was at the well below her father's house. He walked
+down along the banks of the little stream that ran past it, until he
+reached a thorn bush that grew within a few yards of the spring. Under
+this he sat, anxiously hoping that Susan might come to fill her evening
+pail, as he knew she was wont to do. A thick flowery branch of the
+hawthorn, for it was the latter end of May, hung down from the trunk,
+and served as a screen through which he could observe her should she
+appear, without being visible himself.
+
+It was now the hour of twilight; the evening was warm and balmy; the
+whitethorn tinder which he sat, and the profusion of wild flowers that
+spangled the bosom of the green glen, breathed their fragrance around
+him, and steeped, the emotions and remembrances which crowded thickly
+on him in deep and exquisite tenderness. Up in the air he heard the
+quavering hum of the snipe, as it rose and fell in undulating motion,
+and the creak of the rail in many directions around him. From an
+adjoining meadow in the distance, the merry voices of the village
+children came upon his ear, as they gathered the wild honey which
+dropped like dew from the soft clouds upon the long grassy stalks, and
+meadow-sweet, on whose leaves it lay like amber. He remembered when
+he and Susan, on meeting there for a similar purpose, felt the first
+mysterious pleasure in being together, and the unaccountable melancholy
+produced by separation and absence.
+
+At length he heard a footstep; but he could not persuade himself that
+the slow and lingering tread of the person approaching him was that
+of Susan, so much did it differ from the buoyant and elastic step with
+which she used to trip along. On looking through the branches, however,
+he perceived her coming towards him, carrying the pitcher as usual in
+her hand. The blood was already careering at full speed through his
+veins, and the palpitations of his heart were loud enough to be heard by
+the ear.
+
+Oh, beauty, beauty! _terrima causa belli_, thou dost play the devil with
+the hearts of men! Who is there who doth not wish to look upon thee,
+from the saint to the sinner?--None. For thee worlds have been lost;
+nations swept off the earth; thrones overturned; and cities laid in
+ashes! Adam, David, Marc Antony, Abelard, and Denis O'Shaughnessy,
+exhibit histories of thy power never to be forgotten, but the greatest
+of these is Denis O'Shaughnessy.
+
+Susan was about the middle size; her tresses, like those of the
+daughters of her country, were a fair brown, and abundant. Her features
+were not such, we admit, as mark regular and scientific perfection,
+and perhaps much of their power was owing to their not being altogether
+symmetrical. Her great charm consisted in a spirit of youthful
+innocence, so guileless that the very light of purity and truth seemed
+to break in radiance from her countenance. Her form was round, light,
+and flexible. When she smiled her face seemed to lose the character of
+its mortality--so seraphic and full of an indescribable spell were its
+lineaments; that is, the spell was felt by its thrilling influence
+upon the beholder, rather than by any extraordinary perception of her
+external beauty. The general expression of her countenance, however, was
+that of melancholy. No person could look upon her! white forehead and
+dark flashing eyes, without perceiving that she was full of tenderness
+and enthusiasm; but let the light of cheerfulness fall upon her face,
+and you wished never to see it beam with any other spirit. In her met
+those extremes of character peculiar to her country. Her laughing lips
+expanded with the playful delicacy of mirth, or breathed forth, with
+untaught melody and deep pathos, her national songs of sorrow.
+
+A little before she made her appearance, the moon had risen and softened
+with her dewy light the calm secluded scene around them. Denis, too, had
+an opportunity of seeing the lovely girl more distinctly. Her dress was
+simple but becoming. Her hair, except the side ringlets that fell to
+heighten the beauty of her neck, was bound up with a comb which Denis
+himself had presented to her. She wore a white dimity bedgown, that sat
+close to her well-formed person, descended below her knee, and opened
+before; the sleeves of it did not reach the elbow, but displayed an arm
+that could not be surpassed for whiteness and beauty. The bedgown was
+frilled about the shoulder, which it covered, leaving the neck only, and
+the upper part of her snowy bosom, visible. A dark ribbon, tied about
+her waist, threw her figure into exquisite outline, and gave her that
+simple elegance which at once bespeaks the harmony of due proportion.
+
+On reaching the well she filled her vessel, and placed it on a small
+mound beside her; then sitting down, she mused for some time, and
+turning her eyes towards Denis's father's sighed deeply.
+
+"It's the least," said the humble girl, "that I may look towards the
+house that the only one I ever loved, or ever will love, lives in.
+Little I thought when I loved him that I was standin' between him an'
+God. Loved him! I wish I could say it was past. I wish I could: for I am
+afeared that till my weak heart breaks it will love him still. God pity
+me! It would be well for me I had never seen him! But why he should go
+to Maynooth without givin' me back my promise I cannot tell."
+
+Denis rose and approached her. Susan, on seeing him, started, and her
+lover could perceive that she hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. A
+single glance, however, convinced her that it was he; and such was the
+guileless simplicity of her heart, joined to the force of habit, that
+her face beamed with one of her wonted smiles at his appearance. This
+soon passed away, and her features again resumed an expression of deep
+melancholy. Our hero now forgot his learning; his polysyllables were
+laid aside, and his pedantry utterly abandoned. His pride, too, was
+gone, and the petty pomp of artificial character thing aside like an
+unnecessary garment which only oppresses the wearer.
+
+"Susan," said he, "I am sorry to see you look so pale and unhappy.
+I deeply regret it; and I could not permit this day to pass, without
+seeing and speaking to you. If I go to-morrow, Susan, may I now ask in
+what light will you remember me?"
+
+"I'll remember you without anger, Denis; with sorrow will I remember
+you, but not, as I said, in anger; though God knows, and you know, the
+only token you lave me to remember you by is a broken heart."
+
+"Susan," said Denis, "it was an unhappy attachment, as circumstances
+have turned out; and I wish for both our sakes we had never loved one
+another. For some time past my heart has been torn different ways, and,
+to tell you the truth, I acknowledge that within the last three or four
+months I have been little less than a villain to you."
+
+"You speak harshly of yourself, Denis; I hope, more so than you
+deserve."
+
+"No, Susy. With my heart fixed upon other hopes, I continued to draw
+your affections closer and closer to me."
+
+"Well, that was wrong, Denis; but you loved me long before that time,
+an' it's not so asy a thing to draw away the heart from what we love;
+that is, to draw it away for ever, Denis, even although greater things
+may rise up before us."
+
+As she pronounced the last words, her voice, which she evidently strove
+to keep firm, became unsteady.
+
+"That's true, Susan, I know it; but I will never forgive myself for
+acting a double part to you and to the world. There is not a pang you
+suffer but ought to fall as a curse upon my head, for leading you into
+greater confidence, at a time when I was not seriously resolved to
+fulfil my vows to you."
+
+"Denis," said the unsuspecting girl, "you're imposin' on yourself--you
+never could do so bad, so treacherous an act as that. No, you never
+could, Denis; an', above all the world, to a heart that loved and
+trusted you as mine did. I won't believe it, even from your own lips.
+You surely loved me, Denis, and in that case you couldn't be desateful
+to me."
+
+"I did love you; but I never loved you half so well as I ought, Susy;
+and I never was worthy of you. Susy, I tell you--I tell you--my heart
+is breaking for your sake. It would have been well for both of us we had
+never seen, or known, or loved each other; for I know by my own heart
+what you must suffer."
+
+"Denis, don't be cast down on my account; before I ever thought of you,
+when I was runnin' about the glens here, a lonely little orphan, I was
+often sorry, without knowin' why. Sometimes I used to wonder at it,
+and search my mind to find out what occasioned it: but I never could.
+I suppose it was because I saw other girls, like myself, havin' their
+little brothers an' sisters to play with or because I had no mother's
+voice to call me night or mornin', or her bosom to lay my head on, if I
+was sick or tired. I suppose it was this. Many a time, Denis, even then,
+I knew what sorrow was, and I often thought that, come what would to
+others, there was sorrow before me. I now find I was right; but for all
+that, Denis, it's betther that we should give up one another in time,
+than be unhappy by my bein' the means of turning you from the ways and
+duties of God."
+
+The simple and touching picture which she drew of her orphan childhood,
+together with the tone of resignation and sorrow which ran through all
+she said, affected Denis deeply.
+
+"Susan," he replied, "I am much changed of late. The prospect before me
+is a dark one--a mysterious one. It is not many months since my head
+was dizzy with the gloomy splendor which the pomps and ceremonies of the
+Church--soon, I trust, to be restored in this country to all her pride
+and power--presented to my imagination. But I have mingled with those on
+whom before this--that is, during my boyhood--I looked with awe, as on
+men who held vested in themselves some mysterious and spiritual power. I
+have mingled with them, Susan, and I find them neither better nor worse
+than those who still look upon them as I once did."
+
+"Well, but, Denis, how does that bear upon your views?"
+
+"It does, Susan. I said I have found them neither better nor worse than
+their fellow-creatures; but I believe they are not so happy. I think
+I could perceive a gloom, even in their mirth, that told of some
+particular thought or care that haunted them like a spirit. Some of
+them and not a few, in the moments of undisguised feeling, dissuaded me
+against ever entering the Church."
+
+"I am sure they're happy," said Susan. "Some time ago, accordin' to your
+own words, you thought the same; but something has turned your heart
+from the good it was fixed upon. You're in a dangerous time, Denis; and
+it's not to be wondhered at, if the temptations of the devil should thry
+you now, in hopes to turn you from the service of God. This is a warnin'
+to me, too, Denis. May Heaven above forbid that I should be made the
+means of temptin' you from the duty that's before you!"
+
+"No, Susan, dear, it's not temptation, but the fear of temptation, that
+prevails with me."
+
+"But, Denis, surely if you think yourself not worthy to enter that
+blessed state, you have time enough to avoid it."
+
+"Ay, but, Susy, there is the difficulty. I am now so placed that I can
+hardly go back. First, the disgrace of refusing to enter the Church
+would lie upon me as if I had committed a crime. Again, I would break my
+father's and my mother's heart: and rather than do that, I could almost
+submit to be miserable for life. And finally, I could not live in the
+family, nor bear the indignation of my brothers and other relations. You
+know, Susan, as well as I do, the character attached to those who put
+their friends to the expense of educating them for the Church, who raise
+their hopes and their ambition, and afterwards disappoint them."
+
+"I know it."
+
+"This, Susan, dear, prevails with me. Besides, the Church now is likely
+to rise from her ruins. I believe that if a priest did his duty,
+he might possibly possess miraculous power. There is great pomp and
+splendor in her ceremonies, a sense of high and boundless authority in
+her pastors; there is rank in her orders sufficient even for ambition.
+Then the deference, the awe, and the humility with which they are
+approached by the people--ah! Susan, there is much still in the
+character of a priest for the human heart to covet. The power of
+saying mass, of forgiving sin, of relieving the departed spirits of the
+faithful in another world, and of mingling in our holy sacrifices, with
+the glorious worship of the cherubims, or angels, in heaven--all this is
+the privilege of a priest, and what earthly rank can be compared to it?"
+
+"None at all, Denis--none at all. Oh, think this way still, and let no
+earthly temptation--no--don't let--even me--what am I?--a poor humble
+girl--oh! no, let nothing keep you back from this."
+
+The tears burst from her eyes, however, as she spoke.
+
+"But, Denis," she added, "there is one thing that turns my brain. I fear
+that, even afther your ordination, I couldn't look upon you as I would
+upon another man. Oh, my heart would break if one improper thought of it
+was fixed upon you then."
+
+"Susy, hear me. I could give up all, but you. I could bear to disappoint
+father, mother, and all; but the thought of giving you up for ever is
+terrible. I have been latterly in a kind of dream. I have been among
+friends and relatives until my brain was turned; but now I am restored
+to myself, and I find I cannot part with you. I would gladly do it;
+but I cannot. Oh, no, Susan, dear, my love for you was dimmed by other
+passions; but it was not extinguished. It now burns stronger and purer
+in my heart than ever. It does--it does. And, Susan, I always loved
+you."
+
+Susan paused for some time, and unconsciously plucked a wild flower
+which grew beside her: she surveyed it a moment, and exclaimed:--
+
+"Do you see this flower, Denis? it's a faded primrose. I'm like that
+flower in one sense; I'm faded; my heart's broke."
+
+"No, my beloved Susan, don't say so; you're only low-spirited. Why
+should your heart be broke, and you in the very bloom of youth and
+beauty?"
+
+"Do you remember our last meetin', Denis? Oh, how could you be so cruel
+then as to bid me think of marryin' another, as if I had loved you for
+anything but yourself? I'm but a simple girl, Denis, and know but little
+of the world; but if I was to live a thousand years, you would always
+see the sorrow that your words made me feel visible upon my countenance.
+I'm not angry with you, Denis; but I'm telling you the truth."
+
+"Susan, my darling, this is either weakness of mind or ill health. I
+will see you as beautiful and happy as ever. For my part, I now tell
+you, that no power on earth can separate us! Yes, my beloved Susan, I
+will see you as happy and happier than I have ever seen you. That will
+be when you are my own young and guileless wife."
+
+"Ah, no, Denis! My mind is made up: I can never be your wife, Do you
+think that I would bring the anger of God upon myself, by temptin' you
+back from the holy office you're entering into? Think of it yourself
+Denis. Your feelings are melted now by our discoorse, and, maybe,
+because I'm near you; but when time passes, you'll be glad that in the
+moment of weakness you didn't give way to them. I know it's natural for
+you to love me now. You're lavin' me--you're lavin' the place where I
+am--the little river and the glen where we so often met, and where we
+often spent many a happy hour together. That has an effect upon you;
+for why should I deny it--you see it--it is hard--very hard--even upon
+myself."
+
+She neither sobbed nor cried so as to be heard, but the tears gushed
+down her cheeks in torrents.
+
+"Susan," said Denis, in an unsteady voice, "you speak in vain. Every
+word you say tells me that I cannot live without you; and I will not."
+
+"Don't say that, Denis. Suppose we should be married, think of what I
+would suffer if I saw you in poverty or distress, brought on because
+you married me! Why, my heart would sink entirely under it. Then your
+friends would never give me a warm heart. Me! they would never give
+yourself a, warm heart; and I would rather be dead than see you brought
+to shame, or ill-treatment, or poverty, on my account. Pray to God,
+Denis, to grant you grace to overcome whatever you feel for me. I have
+prayed both for you and myself. Oh, pray to him, Denis, sincerely, that
+he may enable you to forget that such, a girl--such an unhappy girl--as
+Susan Connor ever lived!"
+
+Poor Denis was so much overcome that he could not restrain his tears. He
+gazed upon the melancholy countenance of the fair girl, in a delirium of
+love and admiration; but in a few minutes he replied:--
+
+"Susan, your words are lost: I am determined. Oh! great heavens! what
+a treasure was I near losing! Susan, hear me: I will bear all that this
+world can inflict; I will bear shame, ill-treatment, anger, scorn, and
+every harsh word that may be uttered against me; I will renounce church,
+spiritual power, rank, honor; I will give up father and family--all--all
+that this world could flatter mo with: yes, I will renounce each and
+all for your sake! Do not dissuade me; my mind is fixed, and no power on
+earth can change it."
+
+"Yes, Denis," she replied calmly, "there is a power, and a weak power,
+too, that will change it; for I will change it. Don't think, Denis, that
+in arguin' with you, against the feelin's of my own heart, I am doin' it
+without sufferin'. Oh, no, indeed! You know, Denis, I am a lonely
+girl; that I have neither brother, nor sister, nor mother to direct
+me. Sufferin'!--Oh, I wish you knew it! Denis, you must forget me. I'm
+hopeless now: my, heart, as I said, is broke, and I'm strivin' to fix it
+upon a happier world! Oh! if I had a mother or a sister, that I could,
+when my breast is likely to burst, throw myself in their arms, and cry
+and confess all I feel! But I'm alone, and must bear all my own sorrows.
+Oh, Denis! I'm not without knowin' how hard the task is that I have set
+to myself. Is it nothing to give up all that the heart is fixed upon? Is
+it nothing to walk about this glen, and the green fields, to have one's
+eyes upon them, and to remember what happiness one has had in them,
+knowin', at the same time, that it's all blasted? Oh, is it nothing to
+look upon the green earth itself,and all its beauty--to hear the happy
+songs and the joyful voices of all that are about us--the birds singing
+sweetly, the music of the river flowin'--to see the sun shinin', and to
+hear the rustlin' of the trees in the warm winds of summer--to see and
+hear all this, and to feel that a young heart is brakin', or already
+broken within us--that we are goin' to lave it all--all we loved--and to
+go down into the clay under us? Oh, Denis, this is hard;--bitter is it
+to me, I confess it; for something tells me it will be my fate soon!"
+
+"But, Susan"--
+
+"Hear me out. I have now repated what I know I must suffer--what I know
+I must lose. This is my lot, and I must bear it. Now, Denis, will you
+grant your own Susan one request?"
+
+"If it was that my life should save yours, I would grant it."
+
+"It's the last and only one I will ever ask of you. My health has been
+ill, Denis; my strength is gone, and I feel' I am gettin' worse every
+day: now when you hear that I am--that I am--gone,--will you offer up
+the first mass you say for my pace and rest in another world? I say
+the first, for you know there's more virtue in a first mass than in any
+other. Your Susan will be then in the dust, and you may feel sorrow, but
+not love for her."
+
+"Never, Susan! For God's sake, forbear! You will drive me distracted. As
+I hope to meet judgment, I think I never loved you till now; and by the
+same oath, I will not change my purpose in making you mine."
+
+"Then you do love me still, Denis? And you would give up all for your
+Susan? Answer me truly, for the ear of God is open to our words and
+thoughts."
+
+"Then, before God, I love you too strongly for words to express; and I
+would and will give up all for your sake!"
+
+Susan turned her eyes upon vacancy; and Denis observed that a sudden and
+wild light broke from them, which alarmed him exceedingly. She put her
+open hand upon her forehead, as if she felt pain, and remained glancing
+fearfully around her for a few minutes; her countenance, which became
+instantly like a sheet of paper, lost all its intelligence, except,
+perhaps, what might be gleaned from a smile of the most ghastly and
+desolating misery.
+
+"Gracious heaven! Susan, dear, what's the matter? Oh, my God! your face
+is like marble! Dearest Susan, speak to me!--Oh, speak to me, or I will
+go distracted!"
+
+She looked upon him long and steadily; but he perceived with delight
+that her consciousness was gradually returning. At length she drew a
+deep sigh, and requested him to listen.
+
+"Denis," said she, "you must now be a man. We can never be married. I am
+PROMISED TO ANOTHER!"
+
+"Promised to another! Your brain is turned, Susy. Collect yourself,
+dearest, and think of what you say."
+
+"I know what I say--I know it too well! What did I say? Why--why," she
+added, with an unsettled look, "that I'm promised to another! It is
+true--true as God's in heaven. Oh, Denis! why did you lave me so' long
+without seein' me? I said my heart was broke, and you will soon know
+that it has bitter, bitter rason to be so. See here."
+
+She had, during her reply, taken from her bosom a small piece of brown
+cloth, of a square shape, marked with the letters I. M. I. the initials
+of the names of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. She kissed it fervently as she
+spoke, and desired Denis to look upon it and hear her.
+
+"When you saw me last," she continued, "I left you in anger, because I
+thought you no longer loved me. Many a scaldin' tear I shed that nobody
+witnessed; many a wringin' my heart felt since that time. I got low,
+and, as I said, my health left me. I began to think of what I ought to
+do; and bein' so much' alone, my thoughts were never off it. At last
+I remembered the Virgin Mother of God, as bein' once a woman, and the
+likelier to pity one of her own kind in sorrow. I then thought of a
+scapular; and made a promise to myself, that if you didn't come within
+a certain time, I would dedicate myself to her for ever. I saw that you
+neglected me, and I heard so much of the way you spent your time, how
+you were pleasant and merry while my heart was breakin', that I made a
+vow to remain a spotless virgin all my life. I got a scapular, too, that
+I might be strengthened to keep my holy promise; for you didn't come to
+me within the time. This is it in my hand. It is now on me. The VOW IS
+MADE AND I AM MISERABLE FOB EVER!"
+
+Denis sobbed and wrung his hands, whilst tears, intensely bitter, fell
+from his eyes.
+
+"Oh, Susan!" he exclaimed, "what have you done? Miserable! Oh you have
+ruined me utterly! You have rendered us both for ever miserable!"
+
+"Miserable!" she exclaimed with flashing eyes. "Who talks of misery?"
+But again she put her hand to her forehead, and endeavored to recollect
+herself. "Denis," she added, "Denis, my brain is turning! Oh, I have
+no friend! Oh, mother, that I never seen, but as if it was in a dream;
+mother, daughter of your daughter's heart, look down from heaven, and.
+pity your orphan child in her sore trouble and affliction! Oh, how often
+did I miss you, mother darlin', durin' all my life! In sickness I had
+not your tend her hands about me; in sorrow I could no' hear your voice;
+and in joy and happiness you were never with me to share them! I had not
+your advice, my blessed mother, to guide and direct me, to tache me what
+was right and what was wrong! Oh, if you will not hear your own poor
+lonely orphan, who will you hear? if you will not assist her, who
+ought you to assist? for, as sure as I stand here this night, you are
+a blessed saint in heaven. But let me not forget the Virgin Queen of
+Heaven, that I am bound to. I kneel to you, Hope of the Afflicted! To
+you let them go that have a broken heart, as I have! Queen of Glory,
+pity me!--Star of the Sea--Comfort of the Hopeless--Refuge of Sinners,
+hear me, strengthen and support me! And you will, too. Who did you
+ever cast away, mild and beautiful Virgin of Heaven? As the lily among
+thorns, so are you among the daughters of Adam!* Yes, Denis, she will
+support me--she will support me! I feel her power on me now! I see the
+angels of heaven about her, and her mild countenance smilin' sweetly
+upon the broken flower! Yes, Denis, her glory is upon me!" The last
+words were uttered with her eyes flashing wildly as before, and her
+whole person and countenance evidently under the influence of a highly
+excited enthusiasm, or perhaps a touch of momentary insanity.
+
+     * The form of the Service of the Virgin, from which
+     most of the above expressions are taken is certainly
+     replete with beauty and poetry.
+
+Poor Denis stood with streaming eyes, incapable of checking or
+interrupting her. He had always known that her education and
+understanding were above the common; but he never anticipated from
+her such capacity for deep feeling, united to so much vivacity of
+imagination as she then displayed. Perhaps he had not philosophy enough,
+at that period of his youth, to understand the effects of a solitary
+life upon a creature full of imagination and sensibility. The scenery
+about her father's house was wild, and the glens singularly beautiful;
+Susan lived among them alone, so that she became in a manner enamored of
+solitude; which, probably mote than anything else, gives tenderness
+to feeling and force to the imaginative faculties. Soon after she had
+pronounced the last words, however, her good sense came to her aid.
+
+"Denis," said she, "you have seen my weakness; but you must now see
+my strength. You know we have a trial to go through before we part for
+ever."
+
+"Oh! Susy, don't say 'for ever.' You know that the vow you made was a
+rash vow. It may be set aside."
+
+"It was not a rash vow, Denis. I made it with a firm intention of
+keepin' it, and keep it I will. The Mother of God is not to be mocked,
+because I am weak, or choose to prefer my own will to hers."
+
+"But, Susy, the Church can dissolve it. You know she has power to bind
+and to loose. Oh, for God's sake, Susy, if you ever loved me, don't
+attempt to take back your promise."
+
+"I love you too well to destroy you, Denis. I will never stand between
+you and God, for that would be my crime. I will never bring disgrace, or
+shame, or poverty, upon you; for surely these things would fall upon you
+as a punishment for desartin' him. If you were another--if you weren't
+intended to be the servant of God, I could beg with you--starve with
+you--die with you. But when I am gone, remember, that I gave up all
+my hopes, that you might succeed in yours. I'm sure that is love. Now,
+Denis, we must return our promises, the time is passin', and we'll both
+be missed from home."
+
+"Susan, for the sake of my happiness, both in this world and in the
+next, don't take away all hope. Make me not miserable and wretched; send
+me not into the church a hypocrite. If you do, I will charge you with
+my guilt; I will charge you with the crimes of a man who will care but
+little what he does."
+
+"You will have friends, Denis; pious men, who will direct you and guide
+you and wean your heart from me and the world. You will soon bless me
+for this. Denis," she added, with a smile of unutterable misery, "my mind
+is made up. I belong now to the Virgin Mother of God. I never will be
+so wicked as to forsake her for a mortal. If I was to marry you--with
+a broken vow upon me, I could not prosper. The curse of God and of his
+Blessed Mother would follow us both."
+
+Denis felt perfectly aware of the view entertained by Susan, respecting
+such a vow as she had taken. To reason with her, was only to attack
+a prejudice which scorned reason. Besides this, he was not himself
+altogether free from the impression of its being a vow too solemn to be
+broken without the sanction of the Church.
+
+"Let us go," said Susan, "to the same spot where we first promised.
+It was under this tree, in this month, last year. Let us give it back
+there."
+
+The hand-promise in Ireland between the marriageable young of both
+sexes, is considered the most solemn and binding of all obligations. Few
+would rely upon the word or oath of any man who had been known to break
+a hand-promise. And, perhaps, few of the country girls would marry or
+countenance the addresses of a yoking person known to have violated
+such a pledge. The vow is a solemn one, and of course, given by mutual
+consent, by mutual consent, also, must it be withdrawn, otherwise, it
+is considered still binding. Whenever death removes one of the parties,
+without the other having had an opportunity of "giving it back," the
+surviving party comes, and in the presence of witnesses first grasping
+the hand of the deceased, repeats the form of words usual in withdrawing
+it. Some of these scenes are very touching and impressive, particularly
+one which the author had an opportunity of witnessing. It is supposed
+that in cases of death, if the promise be not thus dissolved, the spirit
+of the departed returns and haunts the survivor until it be cancelled.
+
+When Denis and Susan had reached the hawthorn, they both knelt down.
+So exhausted, however, had Susan been by the agitation of her feelings,
+that Denis was under the necessity of assisting her to the place.
+He could perceive, too, that, amid the workings of her religious
+enthusiasm, she trembled like an aspen leaf.
+
+"Now," said she, "you are stronger than I am, begin and repeat the
+words; I will repeat them with you."
+
+"No," replied Denis, "I will never begin. I will never be the first to
+seal both your misery and mine."
+
+"I am scarcely able," said she; "dear Denis, don't ask me to do what
+I have not strength for. But it's useless," she added; "you will never
+begin unless I do."
+
+They then blessed themselves after the form of their church, and as they
+extended their right hands to each other, the tears fell fast from the
+eyes of both. The words they repeated were the same, with the difference
+of the name only.
+
+"I, Susan Connor, in the presence of God, do release you, Denis
+O'Shaughnessy, from your promise of marriage to me, and from all
+promises of marriage that you ever made me. I now give you back that
+promise of marriage, and all promises of marriage you ever made me. To
+which I call God to witness."
+
+Denis repeated the same words, substituting the name of Susan Connor.
+
+The sobs of Susan were loud and incessant, even before she had concluded
+the words; their eyes were fixed upon each other with a hopeless and
+agonizing expression: but no sooner were they uttered, than a strong
+hysteric sense of suffocation rose to her throat; she panted rapidly for
+breath; Denis opened his arms, and she fell, or rather threw herself,
+over in a swoon upon his bosom. To press his lips to hers, and carry her
+to the brink of the well, was but the work of a moment. There he laid
+her, and after having sprinkled her face with water, proceeded to slap
+the palms of her hands, exclaiming,--
+
+"Susan, my beloved, will you not hear me? Oh, look upon me, my heart's
+dearest treasure, and tell me that you're living. Gracious God! her
+heart is broken--she is dead! This--this--is the severest blow of all! I
+have killed her!"
+
+She opened her eyes as he spoke, and Denis, in stooping to assist her,
+weeping at the same time like a child; received--a bang from a cudgel
+that made his head ring.
+
+"Your sowl to the divil, you larned vagabone," said her father, for
+it was he, "is this the way you're preparin' yourself for the church?
+Comin' over that innocent colleen of a daughter o' mine before you
+set out," he added, taking Denis a second thwack across the
+shoulders--"before you set out for Maynewth!!"
+
+"Why, you miserable vulgarian," said Denis, "I scorn you from the head
+to the heel. Desist, I say," for the father was about to lay in another
+swinger upon his kidney--"desist, I say, and don't approximate, or I
+will entangle the ribs of you!"
+
+"My sowl to glory," said the father, "if ever I had a greater mind
+to ate my dinner, than I have to anoint you wid this cudgel, you
+black-coated skamer!"
+
+"Get out, you barbarian," replied Denis, "how dare you talk about
+unction in connection with a cudgel? Desist, I say, for I will
+retaliate, if you approximate an inch. Desist, or I will baptize you in
+the well as Philip did the Ethiopian, without a sponsor. No man but a
+miserable barbarian would have had the vulgarity to interrupt us in the
+manner you did. Look at your daughter's situation!"
+
+"The hussy," replied the father, "it's the supper she ought to have
+ready, instead of coortin' wid sich a larned vag----Heavens above me!
+What ails my child? Susy! Susy, _alanna dhas!_ what's over you? Oh, I
+see how it is," he continued--"I see how it is! This accounts for her
+low spirits an' bad health for some time past! Susy, rouse yourself,
+avourneen! Sure I'm not angry wid you! My sowl to glory, Denis
+Shaughnessy, but you have broke my child's heart, I doubt!"
+
+"Owen," said Denis, "your indecorous interruption has stamped you with
+the signature of genuine ignorance and vulgarity; still, I say, we must
+have some conversation on that subject immediately. Yes, I love your
+daughter a thousand times better than nay own life."
+
+"Faith, I'll take care that we'll have discoorse about it," replied the
+father. "If you have been a villain to the innocent girl--if you have,
+Denny, why you'll meet your God sooner than you think. Mark my words.
+I have but one life, and I'll lose it for her sake, if she has come to
+ill."
+
+"Here,", said Denis, "let me sprinkle her face with this cool water,
+that we may recover her, if possible. Your anger and your outrage, Owen,
+overcame the timid creature. Speak kindly to her, she is recovering.
+Thank God, she is recovering."
+
+"Susy, avourneen," said the father, "rouse yourself,' ma colleen; rouse
+yourself, an' don't thrimble that way. The sorra one o' me's angry wid
+you, at all at all."
+
+"Oh, bring me home," said the poor girl. "Father, dear, have no bad
+opinion of me. I done nothing, an' I hope I never will do anything, that
+would bring the blush of shame to your face."
+
+"That's as true as that God's in heaven," observed Denis. "The angels in
+his presence be not purer than she is."
+
+"I take her own word for it," said the father; "a lie, to the best of my
+knowledge, never came from her lips."
+
+"Let us assist her home," said Denis. "I told you that we must have some
+serious conversation about her. I'll take one arm, and do you take the
+other."
+
+"Do so," said the father, "an', Denny, as you're the youngest and the
+strongest, jist take up that pitcher o' wather in your hand, an' carry
+it to the house above."
+
+Denis, who was dressed in his best black from top to toe, made a wry
+face or two at this proposal. He was able, however, for Susan's sake, to
+compromise his dignity: so looking about him, to be certain that there
+was no other person observing them, he seized the pitcher in one hand,
+gave Susan his arm, and in this unheroic manner assisted to conduct her
+home.
+
+In about half an hour or better after this, Denis and Owen Connor
+proceeded in close and earnest conversation towards old Shaughnessy's.
+On entering, Denis requested to speak with his father and brothers in
+private.
+
+"Father," said he, "this night is pregnant--that is, _vulgariter_, in
+the family way--with my fate."
+
+"Throth, it is, avick. Glory be to Goodness!"
+
+"Here is Owen Connor, an honest, dacent neighbor--"
+
+"Throth, he is an honest, dacent man, said the lather, interrupting him.
+
+"Yes," replied the son, "I agree with you. Well, he has a certain
+disclosure or proposal to make, which you will be pleased to take into
+your most serious consideration. I, for my part, cannot help being
+endowed with my own gifts, and if I happen to possess a magnet to
+attract feminine sensibility, it is to heaven I owe it, and not to
+myself."
+
+"It is,"--said the father, "glory be to his name!"
+
+"Don't be alarmed, or surprised, or angry, at anything Owen Connor may
+say to you. I speak significantly. There are perplexities in all human
+events, and the cardinal hinge of fate is forever turning. Now I must
+withdraw; but in, the meantime I will be found taking a serenade behind
+the garden, if I am wanted."
+
+"Brian," said the father, "get the bottle; we can't on this night, any
+way, talk to Owen Connor, or to anybody else, wid dhry lips."
+
+The bottle was accordingly got, and Owen, with no very agreeable
+anticipations, found himself compelled to introduce a very hazardous
+topic.
+
+Denis, as he said, continued to walk to and fro behind the garden. He
+thought over the incidents of the evening, but had no hope that Owen
+Connor's proposal would be accepted. He knew his father and family too
+well for that. With respect to Susan's vow, he felt certain that any
+change of opinion on her part was equally improbable. It was clear,
+then, that he had no pretext for avoiding Maynooth; and as the shame,
+affliction, and indignation of the family would, he knew, be terrible,
+he resolved to conform himself to his circumstances, trusting to absence
+for that diminution of affection which it often produces. Having settled
+these points in his mind, he began to grope that part of his head which
+had come in contact with Owen Connor's cudgel. He had strong surmises
+that a bump existed, and on examining, he found that a powerful organ of
+self-esteem had been created.
+
+At this moment he saw Owen Connor running past him at full speed,
+pursued by his father and brothers, the father brandishing a cudgel
+in his hand. The son, who understood all, intercepted the pursuers,
+commanding them, in a loud voice to stop. With his brothers he
+succeeded; but the father's wrath was not to be appeased so easily.
+Nothing now remained but to stand in his way, and arrest him by friendly
+violence; Denis, therefore, seized him, and, by assuming all his
+authority, at length prevailed upon him to give over the chase.
+
+"Only think of him," exclaimed the father, breathless--"only think
+of him havin' the assurance to propose a match between you an' his
+baby-faced daughter! Ho! _Dher manhim_, Owen Connor," he shouted,
+shaking the staff at Owen as he spoke--"_Dher manhim!_ if I was near
+you, I'd put your bones through other, for darin' to mintion sich a
+thing!"
+
+Owen Connor, on finding that he was na longer pursued, stood to
+reconnoitre the enemy:--
+
+"Denis Oge," he shouted back, "be on to Maynooth as fast as possible,
+except you wish to have my poor child left fatherless entirely. Go way,
+an' my blessin' be along wid you; but let there be never another word
+about that business while you live."
+
+"Father," said Denis, "I'm scandalized at your conduct on this dignified
+occasion. I am also angry with Brian and the rest of you. Did you not
+observe that the decent man was advanced in liquor? I would have told
+you so at once, were it not that he was present while I spoke. Did I not
+give you as strong a hint as possible? Did I not tell you that 'I
+spoke significantly?' Now hear me. Take the first opportunity of being
+reconciled to Owen Connor. Be civil to him; for I assure you he esteems
+me very highly. Be also kind to his daughter, who is an excellent girl;
+but I repeat it, her father esteems me highly."
+
+"Does he think highly of you, Denis?"
+
+"I have said so," he replied.
+
+"Then, throth, we're sorry for what has happened, poor man. But the
+never a one o' me, Denis, saw the laste sign of liquor about him.
+Throth, we will make it up wid him, thin. An' we'll be kind to his
+daughter, too, Denis."
+
+"Then as a proof that you will follow my advice, I lay it on you as a
+duty, to let me know how they are, whenever you write to me."
+
+"Throth, we will, Denis;--indeed will we. Come in now, dear; this is
+the last night you're to be wid us, an' they're all missin! you in the
+house."
+
+On that night no person slept in Denis O'Shaughnessy's, except our hero,
+and his mother and sisters. As morning approached a heaviness of spirits
+prevailed among the family, which of course was not felt by any except
+his immediate relations. The more distant friends, who remained with
+them for the night, sang and plied the bottle with a steadiness which
+prevented them from feeling the want of rest. About six o'clock,
+breakfast was ready, Denis dressed, and every arrangement made for his
+immediate departure. His parents--his brothers, and his sisters were
+all in tears, and he himself could master his emotions with great
+difficulty. At length the hour to which the family of our candidate had
+long looked forward, arrived, and Denis rose to depart for Maynooth.
+Except by the sobs and weeping, the silence was unbroken when he stood
+up to bid them farewell.
+
+The first he embraced was his eldest brother, Brian: "Brian," said he,
+but he could not proceed--his voice failed him: he then extended his
+hand, but Brian clasped him in tis arms--kissed his beloved brother, and
+wept with strong grief; even then there was not a dry eye in the house.
+The parting with his other brothers was equally tender--they wept loudly
+and bitterly, and Denis joined in their grief. Then came his sisters,
+who, one by one, hung upon him, and sobbed as if he had been dead. The
+grief of his youngest sister, Susan, was excessive. She threw her arms
+about his neck, and said she would not let him go; Denis pressed her
+to his heart, and the grief which he felt, seemed to penetrate his very
+soul.
+
+"Susan," said he, "Susan, may the blessing of God rest upon you till I
+see you again!"--and the affectionate girl was literally torn from his
+arms.
+
+But how came the most affecting part of the ceremony. His parents had
+stood apart--their hands locked in each other, both in tears, whilst
+he took leave of the rest. He now approached his mother, and reverently
+kneeling down, implored in words scarcely intelligible, her blessing
+and forgiveness; he extended both his hands--"Mother," he added, "I
+ask--humbly and penitently, I ask your blessing; it will be sweet to me
+from your beloved lips, dear mother;--pardon me if I ever--as I feel I
+often did--caused you a pang of sorrow by my disobedience and folly. Oh,
+pardon me--pardon me for all now! Bless your son, kindest of mothers,
+with your best and tenderest blessing!"
+
+She threw herself in his arms, and locking him in her embrace, imprinted
+every part of his face with kisses. "Oh, Denis," she exclaimed, "there
+is but one more who will miss you more nor I will--Oh, my darlin'
+son--our pride--our pride--our heart's pride--our honor, and our credit!
+Sure, _anim machree_, I have nothin' to forgive you for, my heart's
+life; but may the blessin' of God and of a happy mother light on you!
+And, Denis _asthore_, wasn't it you that made me happy, and that made us
+all happy. May my blessin' and the blessin' of God rest upon you--keep
+you from every evil, and in every good, till my eyes will be made glad
+by lookin' on you agin!"
+
+A grief more deep, and a happiness more full, than had yet been felt,
+were now to come forth. Denis turned to his father--his companion
+in many a pastime, and in many a walk about their native fields. In
+fair--in market--at mass--and at every rustic amusement within their
+reach--had he been ever at the side of that indulgent father, whose
+heart and soul were placed in him. Denis could not utter a word, but
+kept his streaming eyes fixed upon the old man, with that yearning
+expression of the heart which is felt when it desires to be mingled
+with the very existence of the object that it loves. Old Denis advanced,
+under powerful struggles, to suppress his grief; he knelt, and, as the
+tears ran in silence down his cheeks, thus addressed himself to God:--
+
+"I kneel down before you, oh, my God a poor sinner! I kneel here in your
+blessed presence, with a heart--with a happy heartens day, to return you
+thanks in the name of myself and the beloved partner you have given me
+through the cares and thrials of this world, to give you our heart's
+best thanks for graciously permittin' us to see this day! It is to you
+we owe it, good Father of Heaven! It is to you we owe this--an' him--my
+heart's own son, that kneels before me to be blessed by my lips!
+Yes--yes, he is--he is the pride of our lives!--He is the mornin' star
+among us! he was ever a good son; and you know that from the day he was
+born to this minute, he never gave me a sore heart! Take him under your
+own protection! Oh, bless him as we wish, if it be your holy will to
+do so!--Bless him and guard him, for my heart's in him: it is--he knows
+it--everybody knows it;--and if anything was to happen him----"
+
+He could proceed no further: the idea of losing his son, even in
+imagination, overpowered him;--he rose, locked him to his breast, and
+for many minutes the grief of both was loud and vehement.
+
+Denis's uncle now interposed: "The horses," said he, "are at the door,
+an' time's passin'."
+
+"Och, thrue for you, Barny," said old Denis; "come, _acushla_, an'
+let me help you on your horse. We will go on quickly, as we're to meet
+Father Finnerty at the crass-roads."
+
+Denis then shook hands with them all, not forgetting honest Phadrick
+Murray, who exclaimed, as he bid him farewell, "Arrah! Misther Denis,
+aroon, won't you be thinkin' of me now an' thin in the College? Faix,
+if you always argue as bravely wid the Collegians as you did the day you
+proved me to be an ass you'll soon be at the head of them!"
+
+"Denis," said the uncle, "your father excuses me in regard of havin' to
+attend my cattle in the fair to-day. You won't be angry wid me, dear,
+for lavin' you now, as my road lies this other way. May the blessin'
+of God and his holy mother keep you till I see you agin! an', Denis, if
+you'd send me a scrape or two, lettin' me know what a good parish 'ud be
+worth; for I intend next spring to go wid little Barny to the Latin!"
+
+This Denis promised to do; and after bidding him farewell, he and
+his friends--some on horseback and numbers on foot--set out on their
+journey; and as they proceeded through their own neighborhood, many
+a crowd was collected to get a sight of Denis O'Shaughnessy going to
+Maynooth.
+
+*****
+
+It was one day in autumn, after a lapse of about two years, that the
+following conversation took place between a wealthy grazier from the
+neighboring parish, and one of our hero's most intimate, acquaintances.
+It is valuable only as it throws light upon Denis's ultimate situation
+in life, which, after all, was not what our readers might be inclined to
+expect.
+
+"Why, then, honest man," said Denis's friend, "that's a murdherin' fine
+dhrove o' bullocks you're bringin' to the fair?"
+
+"Ay!" replied the grazier, "you may say that. I'm thinkin' it wouldn't
+be asay to aquil them."
+
+"Faix, sure enough. Where wor they fed, wid simmission?"
+
+"Up in Teernahusshogue. Arrah, will you tell me what weddin' was that
+that passed awhile agone?"
+
+"A son of ould Denis O'Shaughnessy's, God be merciful to his sowl!"
+
+"Denis O'Shaughnessy! Is it him they called the 'Pigeon-house?' An' is
+it possible he's dead?"
+
+"He's dead, nabor, an' in throth, an honest man's dead!"
+
+"As ever broke the world's bread. The Lord make his bed in heaven this
+day! Hasn't he a son larnin' to be a priest in May-newth?"
+
+"Ah! _Fahreer gairh!_ That's all over."
+
+"Why, is he dead, too?"
+
+"Be Gorra, no--but the conthrairy to that. 'Twas his weddin' you seen
+passin' a minute agone."
+
+"Is it the young sogarth's? Musha, bad end to you, man alive, an' spake
+out. Tell us how that happened. Sowl it's a quare business, an' him was
+in Maynewth!"
+
+"Faith, he was so; an' they say there wasn't a man in Maynewth able to
+tache him. But, passin' that over--you see, the father, ould Denis--an'
+be Gorra, he was very bright, too, till the son grewn up, an' drownded
+him wid the languidges--the father, you see, ould Denis himself, tuck
+a faver whin the son was near a year in the college, an' it proved too
+many for him. He died; an' whin young Dinny hard of it, the divil a one
+of him would stay any longer in Maynewth. He came home like a scarecrow,
+said he lost his health in it, an' refused to go back. Faith, it was
+a lucky thing that his father died beforehand, for it would brake his
+heart. As it was, they had terrible work about it. But ould Denis is
+never dead while young Denis is livin'. Faix, he was as stiff as they
+wor stout, an' wouldn't give in; so, afther ever so much' wranglin',
+he got the upper hand by tellin' them that he wasn't able to bear the
+college at all; an' that if he'd go back to it he'd soon folly his
+father."
+
+"An' what turned him against the college? Was that thrue?"
+
+"Thrue!--thrue indeed! The same youth was never at a loss for a piece
+of invintion whin it sarved him. No, the sarra word of thruth at all
+was in it. He soodered an' palavered a daughther of Owen Connor's,
+Susy--all the daughther he has, indeed--before he wint to Maynewth at
+all, they say. She herself wasn't for marryin' him, in regard of a vow
+she had; but there's no doubt but he made her fond of him, for he has a
+tongue that 'ud make black white, or white black, for that matther.
+So, be Gorra, he got the vow taken off of her by the Bishop; she soon
+recovered her health, for she was dyin' for love of him, an'--you seen
+their weddin'. It 'ud be worth your while to go a day's journey to get
+a sight of her--she's allowed to be the purtiest girl that ever was in
+this part o' the counthry."
+
+"Well! well! It's a quare world. An' is the family all agreeable to it
+now?"
+
+"Hut! where was the use of houldin' out aginst him? I tell you, he'd
+make them agreeable to any thing, wanst he tuck it into his head.
+Indeed, it's he that has the great larnin' all out! Why, now, you'd
+hardly b'lieve me, when I tell you that he'd prove you to be an ass in
+three minutes; make it as plain as the sun. He would; an' often made an
+ass o' myself."
+
+"Why, now that I look at you--aren't you Dan Murray's nephew?"
+
+"Phadrick Murray, an' divil a one else, sure enough."
+
+"How is your family, Phadrick? Why, man, you don't know your friends--my
+name's Cahill."
+
+"Is it Andy Cahill of Phuldhu? Why, thin, death alive, Andy, how is
+every bit of you? Andy, I'm regulatin' everything at this weddin', an'
+you must turn over your horse till we have a dhrop for ould times. Bless
+my sowl! sure, I'd know your brother round a corner; an' yourself, too,
+I ought to know, only that I didn't see you since you wor a slip of a
+gorsoon. Come away, man, sure thim men o' yours can take care o' the
+cattle. You'll asily overtake thim."
+
+"Throth, I don't care if I have a glass wid an ould friend. But, I hope
+your whiskey won't overtake me, Phadrick?"
+
+"The never a fear of it, your father's son has too good a head for that.
+Ough! man alive, if you could stay for the weddin'! Divil a sich a let
+out ever was seen in the county widin the mimory of the ouldest man
+in it, as it'll be. Denis is the boy that 'ud have the dacent thing or
+nothin'."
+
+The grazier and Phadrick Murray then bent their steps to Owen Connor's
+house, where the wedding was held. It is unnecessary to say that
+Phadrick plied his new acquaintance to some purpose. Ere two hours
+passed the latter had forgotten his bullocks as completely as if he had
+never seen them, and his drovers were left to their own discretion in
+effecting their sale. As for Andy Cahill, like many another sapient
+Irishman, he preferred his pleasure to his business, got drunk, and
+danced, and sung at Denis O'Shaughnessy's wedding, which we are bound to
+say was the longest, the most hospitable, and most frolicsome that ever
+has been remembered in the parish from that day to the present.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Going To Maynooth, by William Carleton
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