widout aither one or other. Black," says he, "is one thing and white is
another thing. You don't conthravene that? But everything is aither one
thing or another thing; I defy the Apostle Paul to get over that
dilemma. Well! If anything be one thing, well and good; but if it be
another thing, then it's plain it isn't both things, and so can't be two
things,--nobody can deny that. But what can't be two things must be one
thing,--_Ergo_, whether it's one thing or another thing it's all one.
But black is one thing and white is another thing,--_Ergo_, black and
white is all one. _Quod erat demonsthrandum._"
"Stop a bit," says the Pope, "I can't althegither give in to your second
miner--no--your second major," says he, and he stopped. "Faix, then,"
says he, getting confused, "I don't rightly remimber where it was
exactly that I thought I seen the flaw in your premises. Howsomdiver,"
says he, "I don't deny that it's a good conclusion, and one that 'ud be
ov materil service to the Church if it was dhrawn wid a little more
distinctiveness."
"I'll make it as plain as the nose on your Holiness's face, by
superbaton," says his Riv'rence. "My adversary says, black is not
another color, that is white? Now that's jist a parallel passidge wid
the one out ov Tartulion that me and Hayes smashed the heretics on in
Clarendon Sthreet. 'This is my body, that is, the figure ov my body.'
That's a superbaton, and we showed that it oughtn't to be read that way
at all but this way, 'This figure of my body _is_ my body.' Jist so wid
my adversary's proposition, it mustn't be undherstood the way it reads,
by no manner of manes; but it's to be taken this way,--'Black, that is,
white, is not another color,'--green, if you like, or orange, by dad,
for anything I care, for my case is proved. 'Black,' that is, 'white,'
lave out the 'that,' by sinnalayphy, and you have the orthodox
conclusion, 'Black is white,' or by convarsion, 'White is black.'"
"It's as clear as mud," says the Pope.
"Bedad," says his Riv'rence, "I'm in great humor for disputin' to-night.
I wisht your Holiness was a heretic jist for two minutes," says he,
"till you'd see the flaking I'd give you!"
"Well, then, for the fun o' the thing suppose me my namesake, if you
like," says the Pope, laughing, "though, by Jayminy," says he, "he's
not one that I take much pride out ov."
"Very good,--devil a bitther joke ever I had," says his Riv'rence.
"Come, then, Misther Pope," says he, "hould up that purty face ov yours,
and answer me this question. Which 'ud be the biggest lie, if I said I
seen a turkey-cock lying on the broad ov his back, and picking the stars
out ov the sky, or if I was to say that I seen a gandher in the same
intherrestin' posture, raycreating himself wid similar asthronomical
experiments? Answer me that, you ould swaddler?" says he.
"How durst you call me a swaddler, sir?" says the Pope, forgetting, the
dear man, the part that he was acting.
"Don't think to bully me!" says his Riv'rence. "I always daar to spake
the truth, and it's well known that you're nothing but a swaddling ould
sent ov a saint," says he, never letting on to persave that his Holiness
had forgot what they were agreed on.
"By all that's good," says the Pope, "I often hard ov the imperance ov
you Irish afore," says he, "but I never expected to be called a saint in
my own house, either by Irishman or Hottentot. I'll till you what,
Misther Maguire," says he, "if you can't keep a civil tongue in your
head, you had betther be walking off wid yourself; for I beg lave to
give you to undherstand, that it won't be for the good ov your health if
you call me by sich an outprobrious epithet again," says he.
"O, indeed! then things is come to a purty pass," says his Riv'rence,
(the dear funny soul that he ever was!) "when the lik ov you compares
one of the Maguires ov Tempo wid a wild Ingine! Why, man alive, the
Maguires was kings ov Fermanagh three thousand years afore your
grandfather, that was the first ov your breed that ever wore shoes and
stockings" (I'm bound to say, in justice to the poor Prodesan, that this
was all spoken by his Riv'rence by way of a figure ov spache), "was sint
his Majesty's arrand to cultivate the friendship of Prince Lee Boo in
Botteney Bay! O, Bryan dear," says he, letting on to cry, "if you were
alive to hear a _boddagh Sassenagh_ like this casting up his counthry to
me ov the name ov Maguire."
"In the name ov God," says the Pope, very solemniously, "what _is_ the
maning ov all this at all at all?" says he.
"Sure," says his Riv'rence, whispering to him across the table,--"sure,
you know we're acting a conthrawarsy, and you tuck the part ov the
Prodesan champion. You wouldn't be angry wid me, I'm sure, for sarving
out the heretic to the best ov my ability."
"O begad, I had forgot," says the Pope, the good-natured ould crethur;
"sure enough, you were only taking your part as a good Milesian Catholic
ought agin the heretic Sassenagh. Well," says he, "fire away now, and
I'll put up wid as many conthroversial compliments as you plase to pay
me."
"Well, then, answer me my question, you santimonious ould dandy," says
his Riv'rence.
"In troth, then," says the Pope, "I dunna which 'ud be the biggest lie,
to my mind," says he; "the one appears to be about as big a bounce as
the other."
"Why, then, you poor simpleton," says his Riv'rence, "don't you persave
that forbye the advantage the gandher 'ud have in the length ov his
neck, it 'ud be next to empossible for the turkey-cock lying thataway to
see what he was about, by rason ov his djollars and other accouthrements
hanging back over his eyes? The one about as big a bounce as the other!
O you misfortunate crethur! if you had ever larned your A B C in
theology, you'd have known that there's a differ betuxt them two lies so
great, that, begad, I wouldn't wondher if it 'ud make a balance ov five
years in purgathory to the sowl that 'ud be in it. Ay, and if it wasn't
that the Church is too liberal entirely, so she is, it 'ud cost his
heirs and succissors betther nor ten pounds to have him out as soon as
the other. Get along, man, and take half a year at dogmatical theology:
go and read your Dens, you poor dunce, you!"
"Raaly," says the Pope, "you're making the heretic shoes too hot to
hould me. I wundher how the Prodesans can stand afore you at all."
"Don't think to delude me," says his Riv'rence, "don't think to back out
ov your challenge now," says he, "but come to the scratch like a man, if
you are a man, and answer me my question. What's the rason, now, that
Julius Cæsar and the Vargin Mary was born upon the one day,--answer me
that, if you wouldn't be hissed off the platform?"
Well, my dear, the Pope couldn't answer it, and he had to acknowledge
himself sacked. Then he axed his Riv'rence to tell him the rason
himself; and Father Tom communicated it to him in Latin. But as that is
a very deep question, I never hard what the answer was, except that I'm
tould it was so mysterious, it made the Pope's hair stand on end. But
there's two o'clock, and I'll be late for the lecthir.
III.
HOW FATHER TOM MADE A HARE OF HIS HOLINESS IN LATIN.
O Docther Whateley, Docther Whateley, I'm sure I'll never die another
death, if I don't die aither ov consumption or production! I ever and
always thought that asthronomy was the hardest science that was till
now,--and, it's no lie I'm telling you, the same asthronomy is a tough
enough morsel to brake a man's fast upon,--and geolidgy is middling and
hard too,--and hydherastatics is no joke,--but ov all the books ov
science that ever was opened and shut, that book upon P'litical Econimy
lifts the pins! Well, well, if they wait till they persuade me that
taking a man's rints out ov the counthry, and spinding them in forrain
parts isn't doing us out ov the same, they'll wait a long time in truth.
But you're waiting, I see, to hear how his Riv'rence and his Holiness
got on after finishing the disputation I was telling you of. Well, you
see, my dear, when the Pope found he couldn't hould a candle to Father
Tom in theology and logic, he thought he'd take the shine out ov him in
Latin anyhow; so says he, "Misther Maguire," says he, "I quite agree wid
you that it's not lucky for us to be spaking on them deep subjects in
sich langidges as the evil spirits is acquainted wid; and," says he, "I
think it 'ud be no harm for us to spake from this out in Latin," says
he, "for fraid the devil 'ud undherstand what we are saying."
"Not a hair I care," says Father Tom, "whether they undherstand what
we're saying or not, as long as we keep off that last pint we wer
discussing, and one or two others. Listners never hear good ov
themselves," says he, "and if Belzhebub takes anything amiss that aither
you or me says in regard ov himself or his faction, let him stand forrid
like a man, and never fear, I'll give him his answer. Howandiver, if
it's for a taste ov classic conwersation you are, jist to put us in mind
ov ould Cordarius," says he, "here's at you." And wid that he lets fly
at his Holiness wid his health in Latin.
"Vesthræ Sanctitatis salutem volo," says he.
"Vesthræ Revirintiæ salutritati bibo," says the Pope to him again
(haith, it's no joke, I tell you, to remimber sich a power ov larning).
"Here's to you wid the same," says the Pope, in the raal Ciceronian.
"Nunc poculum alterhum imple," says he.
"Cum omni jucunditate in vita," says his Riv'rence. "Cum summâ
concupiscintiâ et animositate," says he, as much as to say, "Wid all the
veins ov my heart, I'll do that same,"--and so wid that they mix'd their
fourth gun apiece.
"Aqua vitæ vesthra sane est liquor admirabilis," says the Pope.
"Verum est pro te,--it's thrue for you,"--says his Riv'rence, forgetting
the idyim ov the Latin phwraseology in a manner.
"Prava est tua Latinitas, domine," says the Pope, finding fault like wid
his etymology.
"Parva culpa mihi," "small blame to me, that's," says his Riv'rence,
"nam multum laboro in partibus interioribus," says he--the dear man!
that never was at a loss for an excuse!
"Quid tibi incommodi?" says the Pope, axing him what ailed him.
"Habesne id quod Anglicè vocamus a looking-glass," says his Riv'rence.
"Immo, habeo speculum splendidissimum subther operculum pyxidis hujus
starnutatoriæ," says the Pope, pulling out a beautiful goold snuff-box,
wid a looking-glass in undher the lid--"Subther operculum pyxidis hujus
starnutatorii--no--starnutatoriæ--quam dono accepi ab Arch-duce
Austhriaco siptuagisima prætheritâ," says he,--as much as to say that he
got the box in a prisint from the Queen ov Spain last Lint, if I rightly
remimber.
Well, Father Tom laughed like to burst. At last, says he, "Pather
Sancte," says he, "sub errore jaces. 'Looking-glass' apud nos habet
significationem quamdam peculiarem ex tempore diei dependentem,"--there
was a sthring ov accusatives for yes!--"nam mane speculum sonat," says
he, "post prandium vero mat--mat--mat--sorra be in me but I disremimber
the classic appellivation ov the same article. Howandiver, his Riv'rence
went on explaining himself in such a way as no scholar could mistake.
"Vesica mea," says he, "ab illo ultimo eversore distenditur, donec
similis est rumpere. Verbis apertis," says he, "Vesthræ Sanctitatis
præsentia salvata, aquam facere valde desidhero."
"Ho, ho, ho!" says the Pope, grabbing up his box, "si inquinavisses meam
pyxidem, excimnicari debuisses--Hillo, Anthony," says he to his head
butler, "fetch Misther Maguire a--"
"You spoke first!" says his Riv'rence, jumping off his sate,--"you spoke
first in the vernacular! I take Misther Anthony to witness," says he.
"What else would you have me to do?" says the Pope, quite dogged like to
see himself bate thataway at his own waypons. "Sure," says he, "Anthony
wouldn't undherstand a B from a bull's foot, if I spoke to him any other
way."
"Well, then," says his Riv'rence, "in considheration ov the
needcessity," says he, "I'll let you off for this time! but mind now,
afther I say _præstho_, the first ov us that spakes a word ov English is
the hare--_præstho_!"
Neither ov them spoke for near a minit, considering wid themselves how
they were to begin sich a great thrial ov shkill. At last, says the
Pope,--the blessed man, only think how 'cute it was ov him!--"Domine
Maguire," says he, "valce desidhero, certiorem fieri de significatione
istius verbi _eversor_ quo jam jam usus es"--(well, surely I _am_ the
boy for the Latin!)
"_Eversor_, id est cyathus," says his Riv'rence, "nam apud nos
_tumbleri_ seu eversores, dicti sunt ab evertendo ceremoniam inter
amicos; non, ut Temperantiæ Societatis frigidis fautoribus placet, ab
evertendis ipsis potatoribus." (It's not every masther undher the
Boord, I tell you, could carry sich a car-load ov the dead langidges.)
"In agro vero Louthiano et Midensi," says he, "nomine gaudent quodam
secundum linguam Anglicanam significante bombardam seu tormentum; quia
ex eis tanquam ex telis jaculatoriis liquorem facibus immittere solent.
Etiam inter hæreticos illos melanostomos" (that was a touch ov Greek).
"Presbyterianos Septentrionales, qui sunt terribiles potatores, Cyathi
dicti sunt _faceres_, et dimidium Cyathi _hæf-a-glessus_. Dimidium
Cyathi verò apud Metropolitanos Hibernicos dicitur _dandy_."
"En verbum Anglicanum!" says the Pope, clapping his hands,--"leporem te
fecisti"; as much as to say that he had made a hare of himself.
"_Dandæus, dandæus_ verbum erat," says his Riv'rence,--O, the dear man,
but it's himself that was handy ever and always at getting out ov a
hobble,--"_dandæus_ verbum erat," says he, "quod dicturus eram, cum me
intherpillavisti."
"Ast ego dico," says the Pope very sharp, "quod verbum erat _dandy_."
"Per tibicinem qui coram Mose modulatus est," says his Riv'rence, "id
flagellat mundum! _Dandæus_ dixi, et tu dicis _dandy_; ergo tu es lepus,
non ego--Ah, ha! Saccavi vesthram Sanctitatem!"
"Mendacium est!" says the Pope, quite forgetting himself, he was so mad
at being sacked before the sarvints.
Well, if it hadn't been that his Holiness was in it, Father Tom 'ud have
given him the contints of his tumbler betuxt the two eyes, for calling
him a liar; and, in troth, it's very well it was in Latin the offence
was conveyed, for, if it had been in the vernacular, there's no saying
what 'ud ha' been the consequence. His Riv'rence was mighty angry
anyhow. "Tu senex lathro," says he, "quomodo audes me mendacem
prædicare?"
"Et, tu, sacrilege nebulo," says the Pope, "quomodo audacitatem habeas,
me Dei in terris vicarium, lathronem conwiciari?"
"Interroga circumcirca," says his Riv'rence.
"Abi ex ædibus meis," says the Pope.
"Abi tu in malam crucem," says his Riv'rence.
"Excimnicabo te," says the Pope.
"Diabolus curat," says his Riv'rence.
"Anathema sis," says the Pope.
"Oscula meum pod--" says his Riv'rence--but, my dear, afore he could
finish what he was going to say, the Pope broke out into the vernacular,
"Get out o' my house, you reprobate!" says he, in sich a rage that he
could contain himself widin the Latin no longer.
"Ha, ha, ha!--ho, ho, ho!" says his Riv'rence. "Who's the hare now, your
Holiness? O, by this and by that, I've sacked you clane! Clane and
clever I've done it, and no mistake! You see what a bit of desate will
do wid the wisest, your Holiness,--sure it was joking I was, on purpose
to aggravate you,--all's fair, you know, in love, law, and conthravarsy.
In troth if I'd thought you'd have taken it so much to heart, I'd have
put my head into the fire afore I'd have said a word to offend you,"
says he, for he seen that the Pope was very vexed. "Sure, God forbid,
that I'd say anything agin your Holiness, barring it was in fun: for
aren't you the father ov the faithful, and the thrue vicar ov God upon
earth? And aren't I ready to go down on my two knees this blessed minit
and beg your apostolical pardon for every word that I said to your
displasement?"
"Are you in arnest that it is in fun you wer?" says the Pope.
"May I never die if I aren't," says his Riv'rence. "It was all to
provoke your Holiness to commit a brache ov the Latin, that I tuck the
small liberties I did," says he.
"I'd have you to take care," says the Pope, "how you take sich small
liberties again, or maybe you'll provoke me to commit a brache ov the
pace."
"Well, and if I did," says his Riv'rence, "I know a sartan preparation
ov chymicals that's very good for curing a brache either in Latinity or
friendship."
"What's that?" says the Pope, quite mollified, and sitting down again at
the table that he had ris from in the first pluff of his indignation.
"What's that?" says he, "for 'pon my Epistolical 'davy, I think it
'udn't be asy to bate this miraculous mixthir that we've been thrying to
anilize this two hours back," says he, taking a mighty scientifical swig
out ov the bottom ov his tumbler.
"It's good for a beginning," says his Riv'rence; "it lays a very nate
foundation for more sarious operation: but we're now arrived at a pariod
ov the evening when it's time to proceed wid our shuperstructure by
compass and square, like free and excipted masons as we both are."
My time's up for the present; but I'll tell you the rest in the evening
at home.
IV.
HOW FATHER TOM AND HIS HOLINESS DISPUTED AT 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 ov 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 Hefferman,
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 it's althered times wid me, I
judge, since I got undher Carlisle and Whateley. 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 regilations was
sunk in the say. And they're getting so sthrict too about having fair
play for the heretic childer! We've to have no more schools in the
chapels, nor masses in the schools. O, 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 ov piety."
But I'm running away from my narrative 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 of
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 yes. Send up the
housekeeper," says he, "for a faymale hand is ondispinsably necessary to
produce the adaption of the particles and the concurrence of the
corpus'cles, widout 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 _Cuillean_, 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 yes. Send up the housekeeper, I bid yes: 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 morteal 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.
"O, by this and by that, Misther Maguire," says the Pope, "I'll have
none of 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 of Room," says he.
"O, it's plain to be seen how little you care who sees them," says his
Riv'rence. "You're afeard, 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 brake 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 abit to one side, by chance like, jist as she got fornenst 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 onc'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 of 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 of 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 really
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
of 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 such thing."
"Would you have me doubt the evidence ov my sinses?" says the Pope;
"would you have me doubt the testimony of my eyes and ears?" says he.
"Indeed I would so," says his Riv'rence, "if they pretend to have
informed your Holiness ov any sich foolishness."
"Why," says the Pope, "I've 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."