“Unworthy of respect,” he proceeded, “as it appears by some of my relations I am held,” and he glanced at his brother, “yet I beg permission to state, that our worthy parochial priest, or I should rather say, the Catholic Rector of this parish, is of a somewhat different habit of thought or contemplation. I dined with him to-day—ehem—dined with him upon an excellent joint of mutton—I say, father—the mutton was good—and with his proud, pertinacious curate, whom I do not at all relish; whether, as Homer says—I enumerate his scurrilous satire, or his derogatory insinuations. His parochial pastor and spiritual superior is a gentleman, or, as Horace says, homo factus ad unguem—which is paraphrastically—every inch a gentleman—or more literally, a gentleman to the tops of his fingers—ehem—hem—down to the very nails—as it were.
“Well—having discussed that—observatis observandis, quoad sacerdolem—having passed my eulogium upon Father Finnerty—upon my word and credit though, punch is prima facie drink—and father, that brings me to remember an omission which I committed in my dialogue with you this morning. I forgot to say, that after my dinner, in the manner I expounded to you, it will be necessary to have a tumbler of punch—for, as Father Finnerty says, there is nothing which so effectually promotes the organs of digestion. Now, my introduction of this, in the middle of my narrative, is what the hypercritics call a Parenthesis, which certainly betrays no superficial portion of literary perusal on my part, if you could at all but understand it as well as Father Finnerty, our Worthy parochial incumbent, does. As for the curate, should I ever come to authority in the Irish hierarchy, I shall be strongly disposed to discountenance him; if it were only for his general superciliousness of conduct. So there's another clause disposed of.
“Well—to proceed—I say I have intelligence regarding myself, that will be by no means unsavory to you all. Father Finnerty and I had, about an hour before dinner this day, a long and tedious conversation, the substance of which was my future celebrity in the church. He has a claim on the Bishop, which he stated to me will be exercised in my favor, although there are several candidates for it in this parish, not one of whom, however, is within forty-five degree's of being so well qualified for college as myself. Father, is there not a jar—an amphora—as that celebrated satirist Juvenile has it—an amphora—in the chimly-brace, filled with liquor—get it, and let us inter animosity—I'll not be long a member of the domestic circle with you—so, upon the basis of the communication I have to make, let us, as I said, be—become sextons to animosity and care. 'Dionysius,' said Father Finnerty, addressing me, which shows, at all events, that I am not so unimportant as some of my friends would suppose—'Dionysius,' said he 'inter nos—between you and me, I believe I have it in my power to send up a candidate to Maynooth. 'Tis true, I never make a promise—nunquam facio votum, except in certain cases, or, in other words, Dionysius, exceptis excipiendis—in which is the essence, as it were, of a proper vow.' In the meantime he proceeded—'With regard to your prospects in the church, I can only say, in the first place, and I say it with much truth and sincerity—that I'm badly off for a horse; that, however, is, as I said, inter nos—sub sigillo. The old garran I have is fairly worn out—and, not that I say it, your father has as pretty a colt as there is within the bounds—intra terminos parochii mei, within the two ends of my parish: verbum sat—which is, I'm sure you're a sensible and discreet young man. Your father, Dionysius, is a parishioner whom I regard and esteem to the highest degree of comparison, and you will be pleased to report my eulogium to himself and to his dacent family—and proud may they be of having so brilliant a youth among them as you are—ehem!'
“Now, you may all think that this was plain conversation; but I had read too much for that. In fact, it was logic—complate, convincing logic, every word of it. So I responded to him in what is called in the books, the argumentum ad crumenam; although I question but it ought to be designated here the argumentum ad bestiam. Said I, 'Father Finnerty, the colt, my paternal property, which you are pleased to eulogize so highly, is a good one; it was designed for myself when I should come out on the mission; however, I will undertake to say, if you get me into Maynooth, that my father, on my authority, will lend you the colt tomorrow, and the day of his claiming it will be dependent upon the fulfilment of your promise or votum.'
“'Signatum et sigttlatum est,' said he—for, indeed, the best part of the discussion was conducted in Latin; 'and now,' he continued, 'my excellent Dionysius, nothing remains but that the colt be presented—'
—“'Lent,' I responded, correcting him, 'you see, even although he was the priest—'lent,' said I; 'and your Reverence will be good enough to give the votum before one or two of my friends.'
“He looked at me sharply, not expecting to find such deep logic in one he conjectured to be but a tyro.
“'You will be a useful man in the church,' he added, 'and you deserve to be pushed on at all events. In the meantime, tell your father that I'll ride up and breakfast with him to-morrow, and he can have a friend or two to talk over the compactum.'
“So, father, there's the state of the question at present; the accomplishment of the condition is dependent upon yourself.”
My readers may perceive that Denis, although a pedant, was not a fool. It has been said that no man is a hero to his valet-de-chambre; but I think the truth of the sentiment contained in that saying is questionable. Denis, on the contrary, was nowhere so great a man as in his own chimney-corner, surrounded by his family. It was there he was learned, accomplished, profound; next to that, he was great among those who, although not prejudiced in his favor by the bonds of affection, were too ignorant to discover those literary pranks which he played off, because he knew he could do so without detection. The basis, however, of his character was shrewd humor and good sense; and even at the stage of life which we have just described, it might have been evident to a close observer that, when a proper knowledge of his own powers, joined to a further acquaintance with the world, should enable him to cast off the boyish assumption of pedantry, a man of a keen, ready intellect and considerable penetration would remain.