did their friends consider themselves honored.  This mode of life might, one would suppose, lessen their importance and that personal respect which is entertained for the priests by the people; but it is not so—­the priests can, the moment such scenes are ended, pass, with the greatest aptitude of habit, into the hard, gloomy character of men who are replete with profound knowledge, exalted piety, and extraordinary power.  The sullen frown, the angry glance, or the mysterious allusion to the omnipotent authority of the church, as vested in their persons, joined to some unintelligible dogma, laid down as their authority, are always sufficient to check anything derogatory towards them, which is apt to originate in the unguarded moments of conviviality.

“Plase your Reverence, I’ll put him up myself,” said Denis to Father Finnerty, as he took his horse by the bridle, and led him towards the stable, “and how is my cowlt doin’ wid you, sir?”

“Troublesome, Denis; he was in a bad state when I got him, and he’ll cost me nearly his price before I have him thoroughly broke.”

“He was pretty well broke wid me, I know,” replied Denis, “and I’m afear’d you’ve given him into the hands of some one that knows little about horses.  Mave,” he shouted, passing the kitchen door, “here’s Father Finnerty—­go in, Docthor, and put big Brian Buie out o’ the corner; for goodness sake Exltimnicate him from the hob—­an’ sure you have power to do that any way.”

The priest laughed, but immediately assuming a grave face, as he entered, exclaimed—­

“Brian Buie, in the name of the forty-seventh proposition of Euclid’s Elements—­in the name of the cube and square roots—­of Algebra, Mathematics, Fluxions, and the doctrine of all essential spirits that admit of proof—­in the name of Nebuchadanezar the divine, who invented the convenient scheme of taking a cold collation under a hedge—­by the power of that profound branch of learning, the Greek Digemma—­by the authority of true Latin, primo, of Beotian Greek, secundo, and of Arabian Hebrew, tertio; which is, when united by the skill of profound erudition, primo, secundo, tertio; or, being reversed by the logic of illustration, tertio, secundo, primo.  Commando te in nomine botteli potheeni boni drinkandi his oedibus, hac note, inter amicos excellentissimi amici mei, Dionissii O’Shaughnessy, quem beknavavi ex excellentissimo colto ejus, causa pedantissimi filii ejus, designali eccleseae, patri, sed nequaquam deo, nec naturae, nec ingenio;—­commando te inquam, Bernarde Buie, surgere, stare, ambulare, et decedere e cornero isto vel hobbo, qua nunc sedes! Yes, I command thee, Brian Buie, who sit upon the hob of my worthy and most excellent friend and parishioner, Denis O’Shaughnessy, to rise, to stand up before your spiritual superior, to walk down from it, and to tremble as if you were about to sink into the earth to the neck, but no further; before the fulminations of him who can wield the thunder of that mighty Salmoneus,