* This is a passage which I fear few general readers will understand without explanation; the meaning is this:—­When a young-man first enters Maynooth College he devotes himself for the space of eight days to fasting and prayer, separating himself as much as possible from all society.  He must review his whole life, and ascertain, it he can, whether he has ever left any sin of importance unconfessed, either knowingly or by an emission that was culpably negligent.  After this examination, which must be both severe and strict, he makes what is called a General Confession; that is, he confesses all the sins he ever committed as far back and as accurately as he can recollect them.  This being over, he enters upon his allotted duties as a student and in good sooth feels himself in admirable trim for “a set-in at the King’s Mutton.”

“Well, Docthor, that is a toast.  Denis, have you nothing to say to that?  Won’t you stand up an’ thank his Reverence, anyhow?”

“I am really too much oppressed with relaxation,” said Denis, “to return thanks in that florid style which would become my pretensions.  I cannot, however, but thank Father Finnerty for his ingenious and learned toast, which does equal honor to his head and heart, and I might superadd, to his intellects also; for in drinking toasts, my friends, I always elaborate a distinction between strength of head and strength of intellect.  I now thank you all for having in so liberal a manner drunk my health; and in grateful return, I request you will once more fill your utensils, and learnedly drink—­long life and a mitre to the Reverend Father Finnerty, of the Society of St. Dominick, Doctor of Divinity and Parochial Priest of this excellent parish!—­Propino tibi salutem, Doctor doctissime, reverendissime, et sanctissime; nec non omnibus amicis hic congregatis!”

The priest’s eye, during this speech, twinkled with humor; he saw clearly that Denis thoroughly understood the raillery of his toast, and that the compliment was well repaid.  On this subject he did not wish, however, to proceed further, and his object now was, that the evening should pass off as agreeably as possible.

Next morning Father Finnerty paid Denis a timely visit, having first, as he had been directed, sent home the colt a little after day-break.  They then took an early breakfast, and after about half an hour’s further deliberation, the priest, old Denis, and his son—­the last mounted upon the redoubtable colt—­proceeded to the Bishop’s residence.  His lordship had nearly finished breakfast, which he took in his study; but as he was engaged with his brother, the barrister, who slept at his house the night before, in order to attend a public meeting on that day, he could not be seen for some time after they arrived.  At length they were admitted.  The Right Reverend Doctor was still seated at the breakfast table, dressed in a morning-gown of fine black stuff, such as the brothers of the Franciscan order of monks