There is something touching in the burst of pathetic affection which springs strongly from the heart of a worthy couple, when, seated among their own family, the feelings of the husband and father, the wife and mother, overpower them.  In this case, the feeling is always deep in proportion to the strength and purity of domestic affection; still it is checked by the melancholy satisfaction that our place is to be filled by those who are dear to us.

“But now,” said the priest, “that the scent lies still warm, let me ask you, Dionysius, how the Bishop came to understand the compactum?”

“I really cannot undertake to say,” replied Denis; “but if any man has an eye like a basileus he has.  On finding, sir, that there was some defect in my responsive powers, he looked keenly at me, closing his piercing-eyes a little, and inquired upon what ground I had presented myself as a candidate.  I would have sunk the compactum altogether, but for the eye.  I suspended and hesitated a little, and at length told him that there was an understanding—­a—­a—­kind of—­in short, he squeezed the whole secret out o’ me gradationally.  You know the result!”

“Ah, Dionysius, you are yet an unfledged bird; but it matters little.  All will be rectified soon.”

“Arrah, Dinis,” inquired his mother, “was it only takin’ a rise out of us you wor all the time?  Throth, myself’s not the betther of the fright you put me into.”

“No,” replied Denis, “the Bishop treated me harshly, I thought:  he said I was not properly fit.  ‘You might pass,’ said he, ’upon a particular occasion, or under peculiar circumstances; but it will take at least a year and a half’s study to enable you to enter Maynooth as I would wish you.  You may go home again,’ said he; ’at present I have dismissed the subject.’

“After this, on meeting Father Molony, he told me that his cousin had passed, and that he would be soon sent up to Maynooth:  so I concluded all hope was over with me; but I didn’t then know what the letter to Father Finnerty contained.  I now see that I may succeed still.”

“You may and shall, Denis; but no thanks to Father Molony for that:  however, I shall keep my eye upon the same curate, never fear.  Well, let that pass, and now for harmony, conviviality, and friendship.  Gentlemen, fill your glasses—­I mean your respective vessels.  Come, Denis More, let that porringer of yours be a brimmer.  Ned Hanratty, charge your noggin.  Darby, although your mug wants an ear, it can hold the full of it.  Mrs. O’Shaughnessy, that old family cruiskeen ought to be with your husband:  but no matther—­non constat—­Eh?  Dionysi?  Intelligible?”

“Intelligo, domine.”

“Here then is health, success, and prosperity to Mr. Dionysius O’Shaughnessy, jun.!  May he soon be on the Retreat in the vivacious walls of that learned and sprightly seminary, Maynooth! * On the Retreat, I say, getting fat upon half a meal a day for the first week, fasting tightly against the grain, praying sincerely for a settin’ at the king’s mutton, and repenting thoroughly of his penitence!”