diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:47:59 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:47:59 -0700 |
| commit | 56a57b74cfa811f511e46ebb08ec528812e9921d (patch) | |
| tree | c38f8524e7df4f6a0117da98135d5bb850ba95c6 /16016-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '16016-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 16016-h/16016-h.htm | 6558 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 16016-h/images/page985.jpg | bin | 0 -> 144889 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 16016-h/images/titlepage.jpg | bin | 0 -> 60907 bytes |
3 files changed, 6558 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/16016-h/16016-h.htm b/16016-h/16016-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e942965 --- /dev/null +++ b/16016-h/16016-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6558 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "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— 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—hardihood of + countenance. This delighted old Denis to the finger ends. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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>.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Go an, avourneen. Phadrick!!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm listenin'. The sorra's no match for his cuteness, an' one's puzzled + to think where he can get it all.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You would, in throth, Dinny.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, father, or cut myself acrass, an' dispute my head, maybe, agin my + heels.” + </p> + <p> + “Throth, would you!” + </p> + <p> + “Or practise logic wid my right hand, and bate that agin wid my left.” + </p> + <p> + “The sarra lie in it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Denis, he must have a head like a bell to be able to get into + things.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “In throth it is; go an avick. Phadrick!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm listenin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Phadrick, do you know the differ atween black an' white'?” + </p> + <p> + “Atween black an' white? Hut, gorsoon, to be sure I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, an' what might it be, Phadrick, my larned Athiop? What might it be, + I negotiate?” + </p> + <p> + “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”— + </p> + <p> + “Nor a white?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, Dinny, not a white, abouchal; don't think to come over me that + way.” + </p> + <p> + “But I want to know what color it is, most larned sager.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “An' what color is that, Phadrick?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's black, to be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, what color is white, Phadrick?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's a snow-color: for all the world the color of snow.” + </p> + <p> + “White is?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, is it.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, thin, it's—white—an' nothin' else. The sorra one but + you'd puzzle a saint wid your long-headed screwtations from books.” + </p> + <p> + “So, Phadrick, your preamble is, that white is white, an' black is black?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Phadrick!!” said the father. + </p> + <p> + “I'm listenin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Phadrick, here's the griddle, an' here's a clane plate. Do you see + them here beside one another?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm lookin' at them.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, shut your eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that your way, Denis, of judgin' colors?” + </p> + <p> + “Shut your eyes, I say, till I give you ocular demonstration of the differ + atween these two respectable colors.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they're shut.” + </p> + <p> + “An' keep them so. Now, what differ do you see atween them?” + </p> + <p> + “The sorra taste, man alive; I never seen anything in my whole life so + clearly of a color as they are both this minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you see now, Phadrick, that there's not the smallest taste o' + differ in them, an' that's accordin' to Euclid.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure enough, I see the divil a taste o' differ atween the two.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But if a man happens to open his eyes, Dinny?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely myself doesn't doubt it. I suppose, by shuttin' my eyes, the same + lad could prove anything to me.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—'here lies a quadruped who didn't know the + differ atween black an' white.'” + </p> + <p> + “Well, by the livin', Dinny, I dunna where you get all this deep readin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure he gets it all in the Dixonary.” + </p> + <p> + “Bedad, that Dixonary must be a fine book entirely, to thim that + undherstand it.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Dinny, will you tell Phadrick the Case of Conscience atween Barny + Branagan's two goats an' Parra Ghastha's mare?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How is that, Dinny? I can hear you sittin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Lie down, you reptile, or I shall decline the narration altogether.” + </p> + <p> + “Arra, lie down, Phadrick; sure he only wants to show you the rason o' the + thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well; I'm down. Now Dinny, don't let your feet be too larned, if + you plase.” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!—<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.” + </p> + <p> + “The ditch o' mud! Faix that's dacent!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I do—I do. Death alive! there's no use in punchin' my sides wid + your feet that way.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, get up now an' set your ears.” + </p> + <p> + “Now listen to him, Phadrick!” + </p> + <p> + “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. <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.—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?” + </p> + <p> + “Bedad, that's a puzzler!” + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it, Phadrick? But wait till you hear how he'll clear it up! Do it + for Phadrick, Dinny.” + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>valde</i>, 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Phadrick!!!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that I may never, but he bates the globe!” + </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 + “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. + </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 “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. + </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—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> + “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. + </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—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—“<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>” 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—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. + </p> + <p> + “Good-mornin', Miss Norah,” we will suppose him to say, when meeting a + good-looking arch girl of his acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morrow, Mr. O'Shaughnessy. I hope you're well, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I am, at present, in superlatively ecclesiastical health, Miss + Norah. I hope all your family are well?” + </p> + <p> + “All very well, I thank you, sir, barrin' myself.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that 'ud be tellin', Mr. O'Shaughnessy! But supposin' I am, what + ought I to do?” + </p> + <p> + “That's really a profound question, Miss Norah. But though I cannot tell + you what to do, I can tell you what I think.” + </p> + <p> + “An' what is that, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Miss Norah, that he who is so beatified as to secure you in the + matrimonial paction—<i>compactum</i> 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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'!” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” said Denis, starting. + </p> + <p> + The girl replied only by an arch laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my classicality, Miss Norah, you're a rogue; there's nobody lookin', + you seraphim!” + </p> + <p> + “Then there's a pair of us rogues, Misther Dinis.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Misther Dinis, if I'm not marrid till you're a priest, won't you say the + words for me for nothing?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “To give you what?” + </p> + <p> + “Why the——indeed it's but a slight recompense, the—k—— + the salutation—the kiss. You know what tasting the head means?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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— + </p> + <p> + '<i>Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori</i>.' + </p> + <p> + That's Hebrew, Miss Norah!” + </p> + <p> + “They say you know a power of larnin', Misther Dinis.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Give up everything like levity, Miss Norah. Attend your du—” + </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> + “You're a fool, Misther O'Shaughnessy! Why didn't you take the kiss, an' + spare the king's English?” + </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— + </p> + <p> + “Had I known that you were only in jocosity, Miss Nora, upon my + classicality, I'd have given you the k——.” + </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 “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. + </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 “stimulating the animal to the + true clerical trot.” + </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—as he himself used + to say, when condemning the pride of the curate—“all the lordliness + of the parochial priest.” + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “Sure, Masther, I'm comin' to school to you!” 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> + “Silence, gintlemen,” said he; “<i>legite, perlegite, et relegite</i>—study, + gintlemen, study—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—is Pettier your pronomen—quo + nomine gowdes? Silence, boys!—perhaps he was at Latin before, and + we'll try him—<i>quo nomine gowdes, Pethre?</i>” + </p> + <p> + A stare of awkward perplexity was the only reply he could get from the + colossus he addressed. + </p> + <p> + “And so you're fished up from the Streights (* Alluding to the Colossus of + Rhodes) at last, Pether?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And, Franky, what put Latin into your head?” + </p> + <p> + “There was no Latin put into my head; I'm comin' to you for that.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Franky,” they would say, “is no finished priest in the larnin'; he's but + a <i>scowdher</i>.” + </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> + “Poor Frank,” they would observe, “is but a <i>scowdher</i>—the sign + of the tongs—No. 11, is upon him; so that it is asy known he never + was laid to the <i>muddha arran</i>,” *—that is to say, properly + baked—or duly and thoroughly educated. + </p> + <p> + * The <i>Muddha Arran</i> is literally “the bread stick,” 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:— + </p> + <p> + “I think, father, that upon considerating the consequence to which I am + now entitled, and the degree of respectability which, in my own person—<i>in + propria persona</i>—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! <i>Quid multis?</i>—I say, that taking + all these things into speculation, looking at them—<i>veluti in + speculum</i>—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 <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:—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—ehem!” + </p> + <p> + “Throth, Dinny, I b'lieve you're right, avick; and——” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure, I or your mother needn't be sirrin' you, Dinny?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “Mave, achora,” said,he, “I have sthrange news to tell you: sure Dionnisis + is goin' to make himself a gintleman.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure what?” + </p> + <p> + “Dionnisis, our son Dionnisis, is goin' to make himself a gintleman; he'll + ate no longer widout a knife and fork.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “'Musha, Dinis,' says myself, 'what's all this for?' + </p> + <p> + “'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> + “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> + “'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> + “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> + “'What are you doin' so early, Dinny?' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'I'm practisin',' says he. + </p> + <p> + “'What for?' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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'.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—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, “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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, <i>homo factus ad unguem</i>—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. + </p> + <p> + “Well—having discussed that—<i>observatis observandis, quoad + sacerdolem</i>—having passed my eulogium upon Father Finnerty—upon + my word and credit though, punch is <i>prima facie</i> 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>amphora</i>—as + that celebrated satirist Juvenile has it—an <i>amphora</i>—in + the chimly-brace, filled with liquor—get it, and let us <i>inter + animosity</i>—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 '<i>inter nos</i>—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—<i>nunquam facio votum</i>, except in certain cases, or, in + other words, Dionysius, <i>exceptis excipiendis</i>—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, <i>inter nos—sub sigillo</i>. + 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—<i>intra + terminos parochii mei</i>, within the two ends of my parish: <i>verbum sat</i>—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!' + </p> + <p> + “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 <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> + “'<i>Signatum et sigttlatum est</i>,' 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—' + </p> + <p> + —“'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 <i>votum</i> before one or two of my friends.' + </p> + <p> + “He looked at me sharply, not expecting to find such deep logic in one he + conjectured to be but a tyro. + </p> + <p> + “'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> + “So, father, there's the state of the question at present; the + accomplishment of the condition is dependent upon yourself.” + </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> + “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 <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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said the father, “if I thought he would get you into”— + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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 “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + This allusion to old Denis occasioned his absence to be noticed. + </p> + <p> + “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? + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Brian, “but I see him comin' down there carryin' some aitables + in a basket.” + </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—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!” + </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:— + </p> + <p> + “Neighbors!—God bless yez!—God bless yez!—Dinny—Dinny—I”— + </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— + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—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:— + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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:— + </p> + <p> + “Susan, I am thinking of that same Sunday evening on which we exchanged + the hand-promise. I say, Susan,—<i>dimidium animae meae</i>—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 <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—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.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mane, Denis?” inquired Susan, suddenly ceasing to knit, and + fixing her eyes upon him with a glance of alarm. + </p> + <p> + “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:— + </p> + <p> + <i>Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis</i>.” + </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> + “Denis,” she at length asked, “Did you say that all is to be over between + us?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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—<i>dulce decus meum</i>—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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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> + “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 <i>rara avis in terris</i>—from the + priesthood, is a sin that requires a great dale of interest with the Pope + to have absolved.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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> + “Susan,” said he, after a pause, “do you know the difference between a + Christian and a hathen?” + </p> + <p> + “Between a Christian an' a hathen? Why aren't hathens all sinners?” + </p> + <p> + “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—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.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll pray to God, Denis. Isn't that the way to act under afflictions?” + </p> + <p> + “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—<i>super + astra</i>—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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “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—” + </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> + “Is there any body within but yourself, Susy?” + </p> + <p> + He received no reply. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Susy—<i>dilecta juventutis meae</i>—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 <i>rara avis</i> 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! <i>Macte virtute</i>, and be firm. I swear again + by all the class—” + </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—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 <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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. <i>Tria + juncla in uno</i>, as Horace says in the Epodes, when expatiating upon the + Roman Emperors—ehem!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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—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. + </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, “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Denis heard him not, and consequently made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you speak to me?” said Denis, awaking out of a reverie. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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—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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Come over, avourneen,” said his mother, drying her eyes with the corner + of her check apron: “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I will, Susy; and I will love the shirts for the sake of the hands that + made them.” + </p> + <p> + “And I won't allow Susy Connor to help me as she used to do: they'll be + all Alley's sewin' and mine.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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 + <i>tremor cordis</i>, produced probably by having my mind too much upon + one object.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I give it up, Denis; but you'll tell us.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you let the people be far behind in their dues, Denis?” inquired + Brian. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That,” said Brian, “will be givin' them the bag to hould in airnest.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Brian, but it will be makin' them fill the bag when I hold it, which + will be better still.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Susan, “who'll keep house for you? You know that a priest + can't live widout a housekeeper.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but consider the accomplishments in the culinary art—<i>in re + vel in arte culinaria</i>—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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “Denis,” said his brother, “you'll have great sport at the Station's.” + </p> + <p> + “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—<i>ego et coadjutor metis</i>—or, if I get a large + parish, perhaps I and my two curates—<i>ego et coudjutores mei</i>—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—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Denis, is it this parish you'll have?” + </p> + <p> + “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—<i>pater-familias</i>—comes + out to meet us, and the good woman—<i>mater-farmilias</i>—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—(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 <i>divide et impera</i> 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. + </p> + <p> + “Thus we go on absolving in great style, till it is time for the <i>matutinal</i> + 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—<i>videlicet</i>, 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, <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> + “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,—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 <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.” + </p> + <p> + “But you forget the weddings and christenings, Denis; you'll have great + sport at them too.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “But, Denis, is there any harm in the priests enjoying themselves, and + they so holy as we know they are?” inquired his mother. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “My goodness, what light Denis can throw upon anything!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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. “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that,” said the father, “but on the other hand you know it's not + lucky to refuse it.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't refuse it,” rejoined Denis, “I surely took a quantum suff. of it + with my own hand.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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, “Let his lordship take care that I don't + make a <i>ludibrium</i> of him.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “In throth the boy was always bright!—ha, ha, ha!—and he + sobered Dixon?” + </p> + <p> + “Had him like a judge in no time.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he would do it—he could do that, at all times. God be wid you, + Darby, till I see you in the evenin'. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Bannaght lhath</i>, Denis, an' I'm proud we're as we ought to be.” + </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— + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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 “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The priest laughed, but immediately assuming a grave face, as he entered, + exclaimed— + </p> + <p> + “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, <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;—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—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!” + </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— + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Paddy,” said one of his friends, “did you see him?” + </p> + <p> + “The sorra one o' me seen him,” replied Paddy: “I was lookin' at his + Reverence, sthrivin' to know what he was sayin'.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Our Denis will be able to do that yet,” said Susan to her elder sister. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure he will, girsha, as soon as he's ordained—every bit as + well as Father Finnerty,” 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—her lip quivered—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—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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. O'Shaughnessy,” said the priest, “is that fat brown goose suspended + before the fire, of your own rearing?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “'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.' + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Docthor, I was wishin' to know, sir,” continued the uncle of the absent + candidate, “what the value of a good parish might be.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Docthor, wid submission, I was wantin' to know what a good parish might + be—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Denis got for the horse more than that,” said his Reverence, “and he may + speak for himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Thrue for you, sir,” replied Denis; “I surely got above twenty guineas + for him, an' I'm well satisfied wid the bargain.” + </p> + <p> + “You hear that now, Mike—you hear what he says.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “'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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How long is he dead, Docthor?” said Denis; “God rest him any way, he's + happy!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “'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.' + </p> + <p> + “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.'” + </p> + <p> + “But is it true, Docthor, that his face was shinin' after his death?” + </p> + <p> + “True enough, and to my own knowledge, long before that event.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me,” exclaimed Mave, “he was a holy man afther all!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “By the by, I wonder Denis is not here before now,” 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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>peculiar</i>—decidedly. + </p> + <p> + “Come, girsha, keep basting the mutton, and never heed my boots—turn + it about and baste the back of it better.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I believe you, Darby,” said his father; “but are you comfortable? + Draw your chair nearer the fire—the evenin's gettin' cowld.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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 <i>peculiar</i>—keep + basting; child, you're forgetting the goose now; did you never see a + priest's boots before?” + </p> + <p> + “An' nobody has a better right to know nor yourself, wherever larnin' and + education's consarned,” said the father. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You think he'll pass the Bishop with great credit, Docthor?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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:— + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a whole keg of whiskey, Docthor.” + </p> + <p> + “I see nothing, to prevent him from being a bishop; indeed, it's almost + certain, for he can't be kept back.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “A strong letter in his favor to the President of Maynooth will do him no + harm,” 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—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: + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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> + “Mr. O'Shaughnessy, I congratulate you upon the event of this auspicious + day! I wish you joy and happiness!” + </p> + <p> + “So do we all, over and over agin!” they exclaimed; “a proud gintleman he + may be this night!” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, Father Finnerty,” said Denis, “and I thank you all!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Bonum concilium, mi chare Dionysi</i>—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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And that was his lordship's character of me?” inquired the priest once + more with chagrin. + </p> + <p> + “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:— + </p> + <p> + “<i>To the Rev. Father Finnerty, peace, and benediction.</i> + </p> + <p> + “Rev. Sir, + </p> + <p> + “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> + “I am, etc., + </p> + <p> + “+ James M.” + </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> + “Oh!” he exclaimed, “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Not rejected!—not rejecet!—not rejeckset!—not + raxjaxet!” they all exclaimed, attempting to pronounce the word as well as + they could. + </p> + <p> + “For the sake of heaven above us, Docthor, don't keep us in doubt one + minute longer,” said old Denis. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Come,” said Denis, “Pether, go over, <i>abouchal</i>, 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, <i>agrab machree</i>, + an' Denis's.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “But now,” said the priest, “that the scent lies still warm, let me ask + you, Dionysius, how the Bishop came to understand the compactum?” + </p> + <p> + “I really cannot undertake to say,” replied Denis; “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—a—a—kind of—in short, + he squeezed the whole secret out o' me gradationally. You know the + result!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Dionysius, you are yet an unfledged bird; but it matters little. All + will be rectified soon.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.' + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—<i>non constat</i>—Eh? Dionysi? + Intelligible?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Intelligo, domine</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * 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.” + </pre> + <p> + “Well, Docthor, that is a toast. Denis, have you nothing to say to that? + Won't you stand up an' thank his Reverence, anyhow?” + </p> + <p> + “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!—<i>Propino tibi salutem, Doctor + doctissime, reverendissime, et sanctissime; nec non omnibus amicis hic + congregatis!</i>” + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + To this both gentlemen replied in the usual commonplace terms. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, O'Shaughnessy,” said the Bishop, “take a seat, young man.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe I have a good right to know as much, Dr. M———,” + replied Mr. Finnerty. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray how is it called, Mr. Finnerty.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I fear I cannot, Mr. Finnerty, but I dare say my brother will do himself + the pleasure of dining with you.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly my lord; I am particularly anxious for his success.” + </p> + <p> + “You received my letter yesterday?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “What misconception, sir!” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How is that, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, my lord, the horse is in your stable, and Denis declares he will not + take him out of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not the slightest objection to that,” replied the Bishop, “upon + the express condition that his son shall never enter Maynooth.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Will your Lordship buy the horse?” he added; “I don't want him, and you, + maybe, do?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not want him,” said the Bishop, “and if I did, I would not, under + the present circumstances, purchase him from you.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you anxious to dispose of the horse?” said the Counsellor. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray what age is he?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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:— + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I see, sir,” said Denis; “I see! Let me alone for managin' him.” + </p> + <p> + The barrister was already engaged in examining the horse's mouth, as is + usual, when the priest accosted him with— + </p> + <p> + “You are transgressing etiquette in this instance, Counsellor. You know + the proverb—never look a gift horse in the mouth.” + </p> + <p> + “How, Mr. Finnerty?—a gift horse!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He will take no money,” said the priest. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, my dear sir! Why not take a fair price for him?” + </p> + <p> + “Divil the penny will cross my pocket for him, the unlucky thief!” replied + the shrewd farmer. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the man serious, Mr. Finnerty?” + </p> + <p> + “I never saw a man in my life having a more serious appearance, I assure + you,” said the priest. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Go up and set to work,” said the priest; “but remember that <i>tace</i> + is Latin for a candle. Keep his lordship in the dark, otherwise this scion + is ousted.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” said the other. “In the meantime bring them into the parlor until + I try what can be done.” + </p> + <p> + “Take the Bishop upon the father's affection for him,” said the priest. + </p> + <p> + “You are right. I am glad you mentioned it.” + </p> + <p> + “The poor man will break his heart,” said the priest. + </p> + <p> + “He will,” responded the Counsellor smiling. + </p> + <p> + “So will the mother, too,” said the priest, with an arch look. + </p> + <p> + “And the whole family,” replied the Counsellor. + </p> + <p> + “Go up instantly,” said the priest; “you have often got a worse fee.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “What does your reverence think?” said Denis. + </p> + <p> + “Behave yourself,” replied the pastor. “None of your nonsense! You know + what I think as well as I do myself.” + </p> + <p> + “But will Dionnisis pass?—Will he go to Maynooth?” + </p> + <p> + “Will you go to your dinner to-day, or to your bed to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “God be praised! Well, Docthor, wait till we see him off, then I'll be + spakin' to you!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the priest; “but wait till you tike a toss upon this sofa, and + then you will get a taste of ecclesiastical luxury.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Denis, “but would it be right o' me to sit in it? Maybe it's + consecrated.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the hitherto silent candidate, “if it was perusal on the + part of his lordship that got it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “This is surely great state,” observed the candidate; “and if it be a + thing that I matriculate—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Between my father and you, sir, things look well. We have not, however, + got a certificate of success yet.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Patientia fit levior ferendo!</i>—Have patience, man. Wait till + we see the Counsellor!” + </p> + <p> + He had scarcely uttered the last words when that gentleman entered. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Counsellor,” said the priest, “is it a hit?” + </p> + <p> + “Pray what is your Christian name, Mr. O'Shaughnessy?” inquired the lawyer + o! young Denis. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That's quite sufficient,” said the other, “I shall be with you again in a + few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Presently, Mr. Finnerty, presently.” + </p> + <p> + “Intelligisme, Dionisi?” + </p> + <p> + “Vix, Domine. Quid sentis?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Musha, how—Denny—Dionysis, avick? What do you mane?” said the + father. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be happy to dispute that point with you another time,” said the + priest, “when we can—Silence, here comes the Counsellor.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Counsellor,” said Denis, seizing his hand in both of his—“Counsellor, + <i>ahagur machree</i> 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I thought so,” said the priest—“I thought as much.” + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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> + “Dionnisis an' I must both ride the same horse,” said he, “an' as we have + two saddles, I must carry one of them.” + </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—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. + </p> + <p> + “What the devil is the matter with you?” he inquired. “Have you lost the + use of your speech?” + </p> + <p> + “Push an' avourneen,” said the father to Denis—“push an; lay the + spur to him. Isn't your spur on the right foot?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Peter Gallagher's spur that I have an is a left-foot spur, + for it's an my left foot.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Do you call that gratitude, my worthy friends? To lave me creeping over + the ups and downs of this villanous road without company?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “What is he sayin'?” said the father. + </p> + <p> + “He is declaiming about gratitude,” replied Denis. + </p> + <p> + “Lay-an' her,” said the father. “Poor Mave!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” said the father again. + </p> + <p> + “He is desiring us to go on,' replied the son. + </p> + <p> + “Then, in the name o' Goodness, do so, avourneen. Susy will die + downright.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't hear him,” said the father. + </p> + <p> + “He says the curate dines out; an' he wants to know if he's to dine with + us.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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—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—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 <i>Vade + Mecum</i>.” 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Another neighbor came with a <i>cool</i> of rendered lard, hoping it might + be serviceable. + </p> + <p> + “Norah, sir,” said the honest friend who brought it, “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.”. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Denis, “that is what they call—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.” + </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. “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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—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?—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—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> + “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.” + </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> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak harshly of yourself, Denis; I hope, more so than you deserve.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Susy. With my heart fixed upon other hopes, I continued to draw your + affections closer and closer to me.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + As she pronounced the last words, her voice, which she evidently strove to + keep firm, became unsteady. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but, Denis, how does that bear upon your views?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “No, Susan, dear, it's not temptation, but the fear of temptation, that + prevails with me.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Denis, surely if you think yourself not worthy to enter that blessed + state, you have time enough to avoid it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The tears burst from her eyes, however, as she spoke. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Susan paused for some time, and unconsciously plucked a wild flower which + grew beside her: she surveyed it a moment, and exclaimed:— + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She neither sobbed nor cried so as to be heard, but the tears gushed down + her cheeks in torrents. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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:— + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “But, Susan”— + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “If it was that my life should save yours, I would grant it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, before God, I love you too strongly for words to express; and I + would and will give up all for your sake!” + </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> + “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!” + </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> + “Denis,” said she, “you must now be a man. We can never be married. I am + PROMISED TO ANOTHER!” + </p> + <p> + “Promised to another! Your brain is turned, Susy. Collect yourself, + dearest, and think of what you say.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Denis sobbed and wrung his hands, whilst tears, intensely bitter, fell + from his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Susan!” he exclaimed, “what have you done? Miserable! Oh you have + ruined me utterly! You have rendered us both for ever miserable!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Susy, don't say 'for ever.' You know that the vow you made was a rash + vow. It may be set aside.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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 “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. + </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> + “Now,” said she, “you are stronger than I am, begin and repeat the words; + I will repeat them with you.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Denis, “I will never begin. I will never be the first to + seal both your misery and mine.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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.” + </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,— + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </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—a bang from a cudgel + that made his head ring. + </p> + <p> + “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!!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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, <i>alanna dhas!</i> 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That's as true as that God's in heaven,” observed Denis. “The angels in + his presence be not purer than she is.” + </p> + <p> + “I take her own word for it,” said the father; “a lie, to the best of my + knowledge, never came from her lips.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “Father,” said he, “this night is pregnant—that is, <i>vulgariter</i>, + in the family way—with my fate.” + </p> + <p> + “Throth, it is, avick. Glory be to Goodness!” + </p> + <p> + “Here is Owen Connor, an honest, dacent neighbor—” + </p> + <p> + “Throth, he is an honest, dacent man, said the lather, interrupting him. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It is,”—said the father, “glory be to his name!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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> + “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! <i>Dher manhim</i>, Owen Connor,” he shouted, shaking the + staff at Owen as he spoke—“<i>Dher manhim!</i> if I was near you, + I'd put your bones through other, for darin' to mintion sich a thing!” + </p> + <p> + Owen Connor, on finding that he was na longer pursued, stood to + reconnoitre the enemy:— + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he think highly of you, Denis?” + </p> + <p> + “I have said so,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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—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: “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + 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, <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—keep + you from every evil, and in every good, till my eyes will be made glad by + lookin' on you agin!” + </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—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:— + </p> + <p> + “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——” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Denis's uncle now interposed: “The horses,” said he, “are at the door, an' + time's passin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Och, thrue for you, Barny,” said old Denis; “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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> + “Why, then, honest man,” said Denis's friend, “that's a murdherin' fine + dhrove o' bullocks you're bringin' to the fair?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay!” replied the grazier, “you may say that. I'm thinkin' it wouldn't be + asay to aquil them.” + </p> + <p> + “Faix, sure enough. Where wor they fed, wid simmission?” + </p> + <p> + “Up in Teernahusshogue. Arrah, will you tell me what weddin' was that that + passed awhile agone?” + </p> + <p> + “A son of ould Denis O'Shaughnessy's, God be merciful to his sowl!” + </p> + <p> + “Denis O'Shaughnessy! Is it him they called the 'Pigeon-house?' An' is it + possible he's dead?” + </p> + <p> + “He's dead, nabor, an' in throth, an honest man's dead!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! <i>Fahreer gairh!</i> That's all over.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, is he dead, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Be Gorra, no—but the conthrairy to that. 'Twas his weddin' you seen + passin' a minute agone.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “An' what turned him against the college? Was that thrue?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well! well! It's a quare world. An' is the family all agreeable to it + now?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, now that I look at you—aren't you Dan Murray's nephew?” + </p> + <p> + “Phadrick Murray, an' divil a one else, sure enough.” + </p> + <p> + “How is your family, Phadrick? Why, man, you don't know your friends—my + name's Cahill.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Throth, I don't care if I have a glass wid an ould friend. But, I hope + your whiskey won't overtake me, Phadrick?” + </p> + <p> + “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'.” + </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"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Going To Maynooth, by William Carleton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOING TO MAYNOOTH *** + +***** This file should be named 16016-h.htm or 16016-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/0/1/16016/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + </body> +</html> diff --git a/16016-h/images/page985.jpg b/16016-h/images/page985.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a31c6b7 --- /dev/null +++ b/16016-h/images/page985.jpg diff --git a/16016-h/images/titlepage.jpg b/16016-h/images/titlepage.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7c2270f --- /dev/null +++ b/16016-h/images/titlepage.jpg |
