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 Whateley. Sich
sthrictness! sich ordher! sich dhrilling, and lecthiring, and tuthoring
as they do get on wid! I wisht to gracious the one-half of 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 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 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, 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 _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 of
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."
"Honour 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 of your insiniwations: 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.
"Oh, it's plain to be seen how little you care who see's 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 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 a bit 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 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 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 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 pretend to have
informed your Holiness ov 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 sartain
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 characther of 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 of the cortical nathur.
Them's nothing but the accidents of 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 betwixt the
reality ov the cork and them cortical accidents, and that it's quite
possible, as you alledge, 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 of that sinsible explosion I heard
jist now."
"All I can say," says his Riv'rence, "is, that I'm sinsible it was a
real 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 of punch is
nothing to this jug ov _scaltheen_."
"Do you judge by superficial misure or by the liquid contents?" says the
Pope.
"Don't stop me betwixt 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 subtraction
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 minits 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 of 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
afeared," says he, "it's only too asy ov solution our sum is like to
be."
"Never fear for that," says his Riv'rence, "I've a good stock of 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 coefficient, and we'll thry," says the Pope.
"Hand me over the exponent, then," says his Riv'rence.
"What's that?" says the Pope.
"The shcrew, to be sure," says his Riv'rence.
"What for?" says the Pope.
"To dhraw the cork," 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 real good
sperits ever since the cork was dhrawn, and were else would the real
sperits come from if they wouldn't come out ov the bottle?"
"Well, then," says the Pope, "since we've got the reality, there's no
use troubling ourselves wid the accidents."
"Oh, begad," says his Riv'rence, "the accidents is very essential too;
for a man may be in the best ov 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 of their two Holinesses.