"Well, now," continued Father Philemy, "who are the lawful pastors of G.o.d's church?"

"You are, sir: and all our own priests."

"And who ought you to pay your t.i.thes to?"

"To you, sir, in coorse; sure I always knew that, your Rev'rence."

"And what's the reason, then, you don't pay them to me, instead of the parson?"

This was a puzzler to Kelly, who only knew his own side of the question.

"You have me there, sir," he replied, with a grin.

"Because," said his Reverence, "the Protestants, for the present, have, the law of the land on their side, and power over you to compel the payment of t.i.thes to themselves; but we have right, justice, and the law of G.o.d on ours; and, if every thing was in its proper place, it is not to the parsons, but to us, that you would pay them."

"Well, well, sir," replied Kelly, who now experienced a community of feeling upon the subject with his Reverence, that instantly threw him into a familiarity of manner which he thought the point between them justified--"who knows, sir?" said he with a knowing smile, "there's a good time coming, yer Rev'rence."

"Ay," said Father Philemy, "wait till we get once into the Big* House, and if we don't turn the scales--if the Established Church doesn't go down, why, it won't be our fault. Now, Kelly, all's right but the money--have you brought your dues?"

* Parliament. This was written before the pa.s.sing of the Emanc.i.p.ation Bill.

"Here it is, sir," said Kelly, handing him his dues for the last year.

It is to be observed here, that, according as the penitents went to be examined, or to kneel down to confess, a certain sum was exacted from each, which varied according to the arrears that might have been due to the priest. Indeed, it is not unusual for the host and hostess, on these occasions, to be refused a partic.i.p.ation in the sacrament, until they pay this money, notwithstanding the considerable expense they are put to in entertaining not only the clergy, but a certain number of their own friends and relations.

"Well, stand aside, I'll hear you first; and now, come up here, you young gentleman, that laughed so heartily a while ago at my joke--ha, ha, ha!--come up here, child."

A lad now approached him, whose face, on a first view, had something simple and thoughtless in it, but in which, on a closer inspection, might be traced a lurking, sarcastic humor, of which his Reverence never dreamt.

"You're for confession, of course?" said the priest.

"_Of coorse_," said the lad, echoing him, and laying a stress upon the word, which did not much elevate the meaning of the compliance in general with the rite in question.

"Oh!" exclaimed the priest, recognizing him when he approached--"you are Dan f.a.gan's son, and designed for the church yourself; you are a good Latinist, for I remember examining you in Erasmus about two years ago--_Quomodo sehabet corpus tuum, charum lignum sacredotis_"

"_Valde, Domine_," replied the lad, "_Quomodo se habet anima tua, charum exemplar sacerdotage, et fulcrum robustissium Ecclesiae sacrosancte_?"

"Very good, Harry," replied his Reverence, laughing--"stand aside; I'll hear you after Kelly."

He then called up a man with a long melancholy face, which he noticed before to have been proof against his joke, and after making two or three additional and fruitless experiments upon his gravity, he commenced a cross fire of peevish interrogatories, which would have excluded him from the "tribunal" on that occasion, were it not that the man was remarkably well prepared, and answered the priest's questions very pertinently.

This over, he repaired to his room, where the work of absolution commenced; and, as there was a considerable number to be rendered sinless before the hour of dinner, he contrived to unsin them with an alacrity that was really surprising.

Immediately after the conversation already detailed between his Reverence and Phaddhy, the latter sought Katty, that he might communicate to her the unlucky oversight which they had committed, in neglecting to provide fresh meat and wine. "We'll be disgraced forever,"

said Phaddhy, "without either a bit of mutton or a bottle of wine for the gintlemen, and that big thief Parrah More Slevin had both."

"And I hope," replied Katty, "that you're not so mane as to let any of that faction outdo you in dacency, the nagerly set? It was enough for them to bate us in the law-shoot about the horse, and not to have the laugh agin at us about this."

"Well, that same law-shoot is not over with them yet," said Phaddhy; "wait till the spring fair comes, and if I don't have a faction gathered that'll sweep them out of the town, why my name's not Phaddhy! But where is Matt till we sind him off?"

"Arrah, Phaddhy," said Katty, "wasn't it friendly of Father Philemy to give us the hard word about the wine and mutton?"

"Very friendly," retorted Phaddhy, who, after all, appeared to have suspected the priest--"very friendly, indeed, when it's to put a good joint before himself, and a bottle of wine in his jacket. No, no, Katty!

it's not altogether for the sake of Father Philemy, but I wouldn't have the neighbors say that I was near and undacent; and above all tilings, I wouldn't be worse nor the Slevins--for the same set would keep it up agin us long enough."

Our readers will admire the tact with which Father Philemy worked upon the rival feeling between the factions; but, independently of this, there is a generous hospitality in an Irish peasant which would urge him to any stratagem, were it even the disposal of his only cow, sooner than incur the imputation of a narrow, or, as he himself terms it, "undacent"

or "nagerly" spirit.

In the course of a short time, Phaddhy dispatched two messengers, one for the wine, and another for the mutton; and, that they might not have cause for any unnecessary delay, he gave them the two reverend gentlemen's horses, ordering them to spare neither whip nor spur until they returned. This was an agreeable command to the messengers, who, as soon as they found themselves mounted, made a bet of a "trate," to be paid on arriving in the town to which they were sent, to him who should first reach a little stream that crossed the road at the entrance of it, called the "Pound burn." But I must not forget to state, that they not only were mounted on the priest's horses, but took their great-coats, as the day had changed, and threatened to rain. Accordingly, on getting out upon the main road, they set off, whip and spur, at full speed, jostling one another, and cutting each other's horses as if they had been intoxicated; and the fact is, that, owing to the liberal distribution of the bottle that morning, they were not far from it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PAGE 756-- They set off, whip and spur, at full speed]

"Bliss us!" exclaimed the country people, as they pa.s.sed, "what on airth can be the matther with Father Philemy and Father Con, that they're abusing wan another at sich a rate!"

"Oh!" exclaimed another, "it's apt to be a sick call, and they're thrying, maybe, to be there before the body grows cowld."

"Ay, it may be," a third conjectured, "it's to old Magennis, that's on the point of death, and going to lave all his money behind him."

But their astonishment was not a whit lessened, when, in about an hour afterwards, they perceived them both return; the person who represented Father Con having an overgrown leg of mutton slung behind his back like an Irish harp, reckless of its friction against his Reverence's coat, which it had completely saturated with grease; and the duplicate of Father Philemy with a sack over his shoulder, in the bottom of which was half a dozen of Mr. M'Laughlin's best port.

Phaddhy, in the meantime, being determined to mortify his rival Parrah More by a superior display of hospitality, waited upon that parsonage, and exacted a promise from him to come down and partake of the dinner--a promise which the other was not slack in fulfilling. Phaddhy's heart was now on the point of taking its rest, when it occurred to him that there yet remained one circ.u.mstance in which he might utterly eclipse his rival, and that was to ask Captain Wilson, his landlord, to meet their Reverences at dinner. He accordingly went over to him, for he only lived a few fields distant, having first communicated the thing privately to Katty, and requested that, as their Reverences that day held a station in his house, and would dine there, he would have the kindness to dine along with them. To this the Captain, who was intimate with both the clergymen, gave a ready compliance, and Phaddhy returned home in high spirits.

In the meantime, the two priests were busy in the work of absolution; the hour of three had arrived, and they had many to shrive; but, in the course of a short time, a reverend auxiliary made his appearance, accompanied by one of Father Philemy's nephews, who was then about to enter Maynooth. This clerical gentleman had been appointed to a parish; but, owing to some circ.u.mstances which were known only in the distant part of the diocese where he had resided, he was deprived of it, and had, at the period I am writing of, no appointment in the church, though he was in full orders. If I mistake not, he incurred his bishop's displeasure by being too warm an advocate for Domestic Nomination,* a piece of discipline, the re-establishment of which was then attempted by the junior clergymen of the diocese wherein the scene of this station is laid. Be this as it may, he came in time to a.s.sist the gentlemen in absolving those penitents (as we must call them so) who still remained unconfessed.

* Domestic Nomination was the right claimed by a portion of the Irish clergy to appoint their own bishops, independently of the Pope.

During all this time Katty was in the plenitude of her authority, and her sense of importance manifested itself in a manner that was by no means softened by having been that morning at her duty. Her tones were not so shrill, nor so loud as they would have been, had not their Reverences been within hearing; but what was wanting in loudness, was displayed in a firm and decided energy, that vented, itself frequently in the course of the day upon the backs and heads of her sons, daughters, and servants, as they crossed her path in the impatience and bustle of her employment. It was truly ludicrous to see her, on encountering one of them in these fretful moments, give him a drive head-foremost against the wall, exclaiming, as she shook her fist at him, "Ho, you may bless your stars, that they're under the roof, or it wouldn't go so asy wid you; for if goodness hasn't said it, you'll make me lose my sowl this blessed and holy day: but this is still the case--the very time I go to my duty, the devil (between us and harm) is sure to throw fifty temptations acra.s.s me, and to help him, you must come in my way--but wait till tomorrow, and if I, don't pay you for this, I'm not here."

That a station is an expensive ordinance to the peasant who is honored by having one held in his house, no one who knows the characteristic hospitality of the Irish people can doubt. I have reason, however, to know that, within the last few years, stations in every sense have been very much improved, where they have not been abolished altogether.

The priests now are not permitted to dine in the houses of their parishioners, by which a heavy tax has been removed from the people.

About four o'clock the penitents were at length all despatched; and those who were to be detained for dinner, many of whom had not eaten anything until then, in consequence of the necessity of receiving the Eucharist fasting, were taken aside to taste some of Phaddhy's poteen.

At length the hour of dinner arrived, and along with it the redoubtable Parra More Slevin, Captain Wilson, and another nephew of Father Philemy's, who had come to know what detained his brother who had conducted the auxiliary priest to Phaddhy's. It is surprising on these occasions, to think how many uncles, nephews, and cousins, to the forty-Second degree, find it needful to follow their Reverences on messages of various kinds; and it is equally surprising to observe with what exactness they drop in during the hour of dinner. Of course, any blood-relation or friend of the priests must be received with cordiality; and consequently they do not return without solid proofs of the good-natured hospitality of poor Paddy, who feels no greater pleasure than in showing his "dacency" to any one belonging to his Reverence.

I dare say it would be difficult to find a more motley and diversified company than sat down to the ungarnished fare which Katty laid before them. There were first Fathers Philemy, Con, and the Auxiliary from the far part of the diocese; next followed Captain Wilson, Peter Malone, and Father Philemy's two nephews; after these came Phaddhy himself, Parrah More Slevin, with about two dozen more of the most remarkable and uncouth personages that could sit down to table. There were besides about a dozen of females, most of whom by this time, owing to Katty's private kindness, were in a placid state of feeling. Father Philemy _ex officio_, filled the chair--he was a small man with cherub cheeks as red as roses, black twinkling eyes, and double chin; was of the fat-headed genus, and, if phrenologists be correct, must have given indications of early piety, for he was bald before his time, and had the organ of veneration standing visible on his crown; his hair from having once been black, had become an iron gray, and hung down behind his ears, resting on the collar of his coat according to the old school, to which, I must remark, he belonged, having been educated on the Continent. His coat had large double b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the lappels of which hung down loosely on each side, being the prototype of his waistcoat, whose double b.r.e.a.s.t.s fell downwards in the same manner--his black small-clothes had silver buckles at the knees, and the gaiters, which did not reach up so far, discovered a pair of white lamb's-wool stockings, somewhat retreating from their original color.

Father Con was a tall, muscular, able-bodied young man, with an immensely broad pair of shoulders, of which he was vain; his black hair was cropped close, except a thin portion of it which was trimmed quite evenly across his eyebrows; he was rather bow-limbed, and when walking looked upwards, holding out his elbows from his body, and letting the lower parts of his arms fall down, so that he went as if he carried a keg under each; his coat, though not well made, was of the best glossy broadcloth--and his long clerical boots went up about his knees like a dragoon's; there was an awkward stiffness about him, in very good keeping with a dark melancholy cast of countenance, in which, however, a man might discover an air of simplicity not to be found in the visage of his superior Father Philemy.

The latter gentleman filled the chair, as I said, and carved the goose; on his right sat Captain Wilson; on his left, the auxiliary--next to them Father Con, the nephews, Peter Malone, _et cetera_. To enumerate the items of the dinner is unnecessary, as our readers have a pretty accurate notion of them from what we have already said. We can only observe, that when Phaddhy saw it laid, and all the wheels of the system fairly set agoing, he looked at Parrah More with an air of triumph which he could not conceal. It is also unnecessary for us to give the conversation in full; nor, indeed, would we attempt giving any portion of it, except for the purpose of showing the spirit in which a religious ceremony such as it is, is too frequently closed.

The talk in the beginning was altogether confined to the clergymen and Mr. Wilson, including a few diffident contributions from "Peter Malone"

and the "two nephews."

"Mr. M'Guirk," observed Captain Wilson, after the conversation had taken several turns, "I'm sure that in the course of your professional duties, sir, you must have had occasion to make many observations upon human nature, from the circ.u.mstance of seeing it in every condition and state of feeling possible; from the baptism of the infant, until the aged man receives the last rites of your church, and the soothing consolation of religion from your hand."

"Not a doubt of it, Phaddhy," said Father Philemy to Phaddhy, whom he had been addressing at the time, "not a doubt of it; and I'll do everything in my power to get him _in_* too, and I am told he is bright."

* That is--into Maynooth college--the great object of ambition to the son of an Irish peasant or rather to his parent.