HOW FATHER TOM AND HIS HOLINESS DISPUTED IN METAPHYSICS AND ALGEBRA.
God be wid the time when I went to the classical seminary ov
Firdramore! when I'd bring my sod o' turf undher my arm, and sit down
on my shnug boss o' straw, wid my back to the masther and my shins
to the fire, and score my sum in Dives's denominations or the double
rule o' three, or play fox-and-geese wid purty Jane Cruise that sat
next me, as plisantly as the day was long, widout any one so much as
saying, "Mikey Heffernan, what's that you're about?"--for ever since I
was in the one lodge wid poor ould Mat I had my own way in his school
as free as ever I had in my mother's shebeen. God be wid them days, I
say again, for its althered times wid me, I judge, since I got under
Carlisle and Whately. Sich sthrictness! sich ordher! sich dhrilling,
and lecthiring, and tuthoring as they do get on wid! I wisht to
gracious the one-half ov their rules and rigilations was sunk in the
say. And they're getting so sthrict, too, about having fair play for
the heretic childher! We've to have no more schools in the chapels,
nor masses in the schools. Oh, by this and by that it'll never do at
all! The ould plan was twenty times betther; and, for my own part, if
it wasn't that the clargy supports them in a manner, and the grant's a
thing not easily done widout these hard times, I'd see if I couldn't
get a sheltered spot nigh-hand the chapel, and set up again on the good
ould principle: and faix, I think our Metropolitan 'ud stand to me, for
I know that his Grace's motto was ever and always, that "Ignorance is
the thrue mother of piety."
But I'm running away from my norration entirely, so I am. "You'll plase
to ordher up the housekeeper, then," says Father Tom to the Pope, "wid
a pint ov sweet milk in a skillet, and the bulk ov her fist ov butther,
along wid a dust ov soft sugar in a saucer, and I'll show you the way
ov producing a decoction that, I'll be bound, will hunt the thirst out
ov every nook and corner in your Holiness's blessed carcidge."
The Pope ordhered up the ingredients, and they were brought in by the
head butler.
"That'll not do at all," says his Riv'rence, "the ingredients won't
combine in due proportion unless ye do as I bid yez. Send up the
housekeeper," says he, "for a faymale hand is ondispinsably necessary
to produce the adaptation ov the particles and the concurrence ov the
corpuscles, without which you might boil till morning, and never fetch
the cruds off ov it."
Well, the Pope whispered to his head butler, and by-and-by up there
comes an ould faggot ov a _Caillean_, that was enough to frighten a
horse from his oats.
"Don't thry for to desave me," says his Riv'rence, "for it's no use,
I tell yez. Send up the housekeeper, I bid yez: I seen her presarving
gooseberries in the panthry as I came up: she has eyes as black as a
sloe," says he, "and cheeks like the rose in June; and sorra taste ov
this celestial mixthir shall crass the lips ov man or mortial this
blessed night till she stirs the same up wid her own delicate little
finger."
"Misther Maguire," says the Pope, "it's very unproper ov you to spake
that way ov my housekeeper: I won't allow it, sir."
"Honor bright, your Holiness," says his Riv'rence, laying his hand on
his heart.
"Oh, by this and by that, Misther Maguire," says the Pope, "I'll have
none ov your insinivations: I don't care who sees my whole household,"
says he; "I don't care if all the faymales undher my roof was paraded
down the High Street ov Room," says he.
"Oh, it's plain to be seen how little you care who sees them," says his
Riv'rence. "You're afeared, now, if I was to see your housekeeper, that
I'd say she was too handsome."
"No, I'm not!" says the Pope; "I don't care who sees her," says he.
"Anthony," says he to the head butler, "bid Eliza throw her apron
over her head, and come up here." Wasn't that stout in the blessed
man? Well, my dear, up she came, stepping like a three-year-old, and
blushing like the break o' day: for though her apron was thrown over
her head as she came forrid, till you could barely see the tip ov her
chin--more be token there was a lovely dimple in it, as I've been
tould--yet she let it shlip a bit to one side, by chance like, jist as
she got forninst the fire, and if she wouldn't have given his Riv'rence
a shot if he hadn't been a priest, it's no matther.
"Now, my dear," says he, "you must take that skillet, and hould it over
the fire till the milk comes to a blood-hate; and the way you'll know
that will be by stirring it ons't or twice wid the little finger ov
your right hand, afore you put in the butther: not that I misdoubt,"
says he, "but that the same finger's fairer nor the whitest milk that
ever came from the tit."
"None ov your deludhering talk to the young woman, sir," says the Pope,
mighty stern. "Stir the posset as he bids you, Eliza, and then be off
wid yourself," says he.
"I beg your Holiness's pardon ten thousand times," says his Riv'rence;
"I'm sure I meant nothing onproper; I hope I'm uncapable ov any sich
dirilection ov my duty," says he. "But, marciful Saver!" he cried out,
jumping up on a suddent, "look behind you, your Holiness--I'm blest but
the room's on fire!"
Sure enough the candle fell down that minit, and was near setting fire
to the windy-curtains, and there was some bustle, as you may suppose,
getting things put to rights. And now I have to tell you ov a raally
onpleasant occurrence. If I was a Prodesan that was in it, I'd say that
while the Pope's back was turned, Father Tom made free wid the two
lips ov Miss Eliza; but, upon my conscience, I believe it was a mere
mistake that his Holiness fell into on account of his being an ould
man, and not having aither his eyesight or his hearing very parfect. At
any rate it can't be denied but that he had a sthrong imprission that
sich was the case; for he wheeled about as quick as thought, jist as
his Riv'rence was sitting down, and charged him wid the offince plain
and plump. "Is it kissing my housekeeper before my face you are, you
villain?" says he. "Go down out o' this," says he to Miss Eliza; "and
do you be packing off wid you," he says to Father Tom, "for it's not
safe, so it isn't, to have the likes ov you in a house where there's
temptation in your way."
"Is it me?" says his Riv'rence; "why, what would your Holiness be at,
at all? Sure I wasn't doing no sich thing."
"Would you have me doubt the evidence ov my sinses?" says the Pope;
"would you have me doubt the testimony ov my eyes and ears?" says he.
"Indeed I would so," says his Riv'rence, "if they pretind to have
informed your Holiness of any sich foolishness."
"Why," says the Pope, "I seen you afther kissing Eliza as plain as I
see the nose on your face; I heard the smack you gave her as plain as
ever I heard thundher."
"And how do you know whether you see the nose on my face or not?"
says his Riv'rence; "and how do you know whether what you thought was
thundher, was thundher at all? Them operations of the sinses," says
he, "comprises only particular corporayal emotions, connected wid
sartin confused perciptions called sinsations, and isn't to be depended
upon at all. If we were to follow them blind guides, we might jist as
well turn heretics at ons't. 'Pon my secret word, your Holiness, it's
naither charitable nor orthodox ov you to set up the testimony ov your
eyes and ears agin the character ov a clergyman. And now, see how aisy
it is to explain all them phwenomena that perplexed you. I ris and went
over beside the young woman because the skillet was boiling over, to
help her to save the dhrop ov liquor that was in it; and as for the
noise you heard, my dear man, it was neither more nor less nor myself
dhrawing the cork out ov this blissid bottle."
"Don't offer to thrape that upon me!" says the Pope; "here's the cork
in the bottle still, as tight as a wedge."
"I beg your pardon," says his Riv'rence, "that's not the cork at all,"
says he; "I dhrew the cork a good two minits ago, and it's very purtily
spitted on the end ov this blessed cork-shcrew at this prisint moment;
howandiver you can't see it, because it's only its raal prisence that's
in it. But that appearance that you call a cork," says he, "is nothing
but the outward spacies and external qualities ov the cortical nathur.
Them's nothing but the accidents ov the cork that you're looking at and
handling; but, as I tould you afore, the real cork's dhrew, and is
here prisint on the end ov this nate little insthrument, and it was the
noise I made in dhrawing it, and nothing else, that you mistook for the
sound ov the _pogue_."
You know there was no conthravening what he said; and the Pope couldn't
openly deny it. Howandiver he thried to pick a hole in it this way.
"Granting," says he, "that there is the differ you say betuxt the
reality ov the cork and them cortical accidents, and that it's quite
possible, as you allidge, that the thrue cork is really prisint on the
end ov the shcrew, while the accidents keep the mouth ov the bottle
stopped--still," says he, "I can't undherstand, though willing to
acquit you, how the dhrawing ov the real cork, that's onpalpable and
widout accidents, could produce the accident ov that sinsible explosion
I heard jist now."
"All I can say," says his Riv'rence, "is, that I'm sinsible it was a
raal accident, anyhow."
"Ay," says the Pope, "The kiss you gev Eliza, you mane."
"No," says his Riv'rence, "but the report I made."
"I don't doubt you," says the Pope.
"No cork could be dhrew with less noise," says his Riv'rence.
"It would be hard for anything to be less nor nothing, barring
algebra," says the Pope.
"I can prove to the conthrary," says his Riv'rence. "This glass ov
whisky is less nor that tumbler ov punch, and that tumbler ov punch is
nothing to this jug of _scaltheen_."
"Do you judge by superficial misure or by the liquid contents?" says
the Pope.
"Don't stop me betuxt my premisses and my conclusion," says his
Riv'rence; "_Ergo_, this glass ov whisky is less nor nothing; and for
that raison I see no harm in life in adding it to the contents ov the
same jug, just by way ov a frost-nail."
"Adding what's less nor nothing," says the Pope, "is subthraction
according to algebra; so here goes to make the rule good," says he,
filling his tumbler wid the blessed stuff, and sitting down again
at the table, for the anger didn't stay two minutes on him, the
good-hearted ould sowl.
"Two minuses makes one plus," says his Riv'rence, as ready as you
plase, "and that'll account for the increased daycrement I mane to
take the liberty ov producing in the same mixed quantity," says he,
follying his Holiness's epistolical example.
"By all that's good," says the Pope, "that's the best stuff I ever
tasted; you call it a mixed quantity, but I say it's prime."
"Since it's ov the first ordher, then," says his Riv'rence, "we'll have
the less deffeequilty in reducing it to a simple equation."
"You'll have no fractions at my side, anyhow," says the Pope. "Faix,
I'm afeard," says he, "it's only too aisy ov solution our sum is like
to be."
"Never fear for that," says his Riv'rence, "I've a good stock ov surds
here in the bottle; for I tell you it will take us a long time to
exthract the root ov it, at the rate we're going on."
"What makes you call the blessed quart an irrational quantity?" says
the Pope.
"Becase it's too much for one, and too little for two," says his
Riv'rence.
"Clear it ov its co-efficient, and we'll thry," says the Pope.
"Hand me over the exponent, then," says his Riv'rence.
"What's that?" says the Pope.
"The schrew, to be sure," says his Riv'rence.
"Sure the cork's dhrew," says the Pope.
"But the sperits can't get out on account of the accidents that's stuck
in the neck ov the bottle," says his Riv'rence.
"Accident ought to be passable to sperit," says the Pope, "and that
makes me suspect that the reality ov the cork's in it afther all."
"That's a barony-masia," says his Riv'rence, "and I'm not bound to
answer it. But the fact is, that it's the accidents ov the sperits too
that's in it, and the reality's passed out through the cortical spacies
as you say; for, you may have observed, we've both been in raal good
sperits ever since the cork was dhrawn, and where else would the raal
sperits come from if they would't come out ov the bottle?"
"Well, then," says the Pope, "since we've got the reality, there's no
use throubling ourselves wid the accidents."
"Oh, begad," says his Riv'rence, "the accidents is very essential too;
for a man may be in the best of good sperits, as far as his immaterial
part goes, and yet need the accidental qualities ov good liquor to hunt
the sinsible thirst out ov him." So he dhraws the cork in earnest, and
sets about brewing the other skillet ov _scaltheen_; but, faix, he had
to get up the ingredients this time by the hands ov ould Molly; though
devil a taste ov her little finger he'd let widin a yard ov the same
decoction.
But, my dear, here's the _Freeman's Journal_, and we'll see what's the
news afore we finish the residuary proceedings ov their two Holinesses.