“You were in favor of the measure then, sir?” said Father Neal, with a bland smile that might mean satisfaction or suspicion.
“I was always an Emancipationist; but I am little satisfied with the terms on which the bill has been passed. I 'd have had no restrictions,—no reservations. It should, according to me, have been unconditional or nothing.”
“You've heard the old proverb about half a loaf, sir?” said Hayes, with a dry laugh.
“And a poor adage it is, in its ordinary acceptation,” said Jack, quickly. “It 's the prompting spirit to many a shabby compromise! What disabilities should apply to any of us here, in regard to any post or position in our country's service, by reason of opinions which are between ourselves and our own hearts—I say any of us, because some here—one I perceive is”—and he bowed to Father Rafferty—“a Catholic; and I for myself avow that, if for no other reason than this proscription, I'd be on this side.”
“You're not in Parliament, sir, are you?” asked old Peter, with a seriousness that sorely tested the gravity of those at either side of him.
“No,” said Jack, frankly. “My father and I don't agree on these subjects; and, consequently, though there is a seat in my family, I have not the honor to occupy it.”
“Are you any relation to Colonel Moore Massingbred, sir?” asked Magennis. “His son, sir.”
The questioner bowed, and a brief silence ensued; short as it was, it enabled Jack to decide upon his next move, and take it.
“Gentlemen,” said he, “I 'm fully aware that my name is not a favorite in Ireland; and shall I own to you, till I came to this country myself, I half believed that this same humble opinion of us was to our credit! I used to hear such narratives of Irish barbarism, Irish brutality, priestcraft, superstition, and Heaven knows what besides, that I fully persuaded myself that our small repute was very nigh to an eulogium on us. Well, I came over to Trinity College strongly impressed with the notion that, because I had gained successes at Oxford, here I should be triumphant. It is in no boastfulness I say that I had acquitted myself well at home; I had attained to rather a reputation. Well, as I said, I came over to Trinity and pitted myself against the best man going, and a very pretty beating he gave me. Yes, gentlemen, he beat me in everything, even in those which we Oxford men fancy our specialties. I soon learned that I had not the shadow of a pretension to stand against him, and I learned, also, that it was no disgrace to me to be thus vanquished, since he was not alone the foremost man of his time, but the best scholar the University had seen for a full century; and shall I add, as unpretending and as modest in the midst of all his triumphs as he was unapproachable by all competitors. And now; gentlemen, I will ask your leave to drink his health; doubtless it has been many a time toasted before over the same table, but none ever more ardently followed the sentiment with his whole heart than do I in proposing to you, 'Three cheers for Joe Nelligan.'”
The rambling opening of this brief speech was quite forgotten in the enthusiasm that greeted its close. In every respect it was a happy diversion. It relieved the company from a discussion that promised but gloomily. It brought back their minds to a pleasant theme, and enabled them, so to say, to pay off in grateful cheers to their host his own hospitable reception of them. As for Nelligan himself, he was sincerely, deeply affected; and though he twice essayed to speak, he could get no further than “My son Joe”—“my boy”—and sat down murmuring—“Thank you—God bless you for it”—and covered his face with his hands.