CHAPTER I. LEVITICAL.

Rev.PeterAugustusMalone)requestingtobeinformedwhetheritwasthemodeinIrelandforclergymentocarryloadedpistolsintheirpockets,andashillelahintheirhands,whentheymadepastoralvisitsinquiringthesignificationofsuchwordsasvele,firrum,hellum,storrum(soMr.Maloneinvariablypronouncedveil,firm,helm,storm),andemployingsuchothermethodsofretaliationastheinnaterefinementoftheirmindssuggested. This,ofcourse,wouldnotdo.Malone,beingneithergood-naturednorphlegmatic,waspresentlyinatoweringpassion.Hevociferated,gesticulatedDonneandSweetinglaughed.HereviledthemasSaxonsandsnobsattheverytoppitchofhishighCelticvoicetheytauntedhimwithbeingthenativeofaconqueredland.Hemenacedrebellioninthenameofhis"counthry,"ventedbitterhatredagainstEnglishruletheyspokeofrags,beggary,andpestilence.ThelittleparlourwasinanuproaryouwouldhavethoughtaduelmustfollowsuchvirulentabuseitseemedawonderthatMr.andMrs.Galedidnottakealarmatthenoise,andsendforaconstabletokeepthepeace.Buttheywereaccustomedtosuchdemonstrationstheywellknewthatthecuratesneverdinedortookteatogetherwithoutalittleexerciseofthesort,andwerequiteeasyastoconsequences,knowingthattheseclericalquarrelswereasharmlessastheywerenoisy,thattheyresultedinnothing,andthat,onwhatevertermsthecuratesmightpartto-night,theywouldbesuretomeetthebestfriendsintheworldto-morrowmorning. Astheworthypairweresittingbytheirkitchenfire,listeningtotherepeatedandsonorouscontactofMalone'sfistwiththemahoganyplaneoftheparlourtable,andtotheconsequentstartandjingleofdecantersandglassesfollowingeachassault,tothemockinglaughterofthealliedEnglishdisputants,andthestutteringdeclamationoftheisolatedHibernian—astheythussat,afootwasheardontheouterdoor-step,andtheknockerquiveredtoasharpappeal. Mr.Galewentandopened. "Whomhaveyouupstairsintheparlour?"askedavoice—aratherremarkablevoice,nasalintone,abruptinutterance. "OMr.Helstone,isityou,sir?Icouldhardlyseeyouforthedarknessitissosoondarknow.Willyouwalkin,sir?" "Iwanttoknowfirstwhetheritisworthmywhilewalkingin.Whomhaveyouupstairs?" "Thecurates,sir." "What!allofthem?" "Yes,sir." "Beendininghere?" "Yes,sir." "Thatwilldo." Withthesewordsapersonentered—amiddle-agedman,inblack.Hewalkedstraightacrossthekitchentoaninnerdoor,openedit,inclinedhisheadforward,andstoodlistening.Therewassomethingtolistento,forthenoiseabovewasjustthenlouderthanever. "Hey!"heejaculatedtohimselfthenturningtoMr.Gale—"Haveyouoftenthissortofwork?" Mr.Galehadbeenachurchwarden,andwasindulgenttotheclergy. "They'reyoung,youknow,sir—they'reyoung,"saidhedeprecatingly. "Young!Theywantcaning.Badboys—badboys!AndifyouwereaDissenter,JohnGale,insteadofbeingagoodChurchman,they'ddothelike—they'dexposethemselvesbutI'll——" Bywayoffinishtothissentence,hepassedthroughtheinnerdoor,drewitafterhim,andmountedthestair.Againhelistenedafewminuteswhenhearrivedattheupperroom.Makingentrancewithoutwarning,hestoodbeforethecurates. Andtheyweresilenttheyweretransfixedandsowastheinvader.He—apersonageshortofstature,butstraightofport,andbearingonbroadshouldersahawk'shead,beak,andeye,thewholesurmountedbyaRehoboam,orshovelhat,whichhedidnotseemtothinkitnecessarytoliftorremovebeforethepresenceinwhichhethenstood—hefoldedhisarmsonhischestandsurveyedhisyoungfriends,iffriendstheywere,muchathisleisure. "What!"hebegan,deliveringhiswordsinavoicenolongernasal,butdeep—morethandeep—avoicemadepurposelyhollowandcavernous—"what!hasthemiracleofPentecostbeenrenewed?Havethecloventonguescomedownagain?Wherearethey?Thesoundfilledthewholehousejustnow.Iheardtheseventeenlanguagesinfullaction:Parthians,andMedes,andElamites,Cappadocia,inPontusandAsia,PhrygiaandPamphylia,inEgyptandinthepartsofLibyaaboutCyrene,strangersofRome,Jewsandproselytes,CretesandArabianseveryoneofthesemusthavehaditsrepresentativeinthisroomtwominutessince." "Ibegyourpardon,Mr.Helstone,"beganMr.Donne"takeaseat,pray,sir.Haveaglassofwine?" Hiscivilitiesreceivednoanswer.Thefalconintheblackcoatproceeded,— "WhatdoItalkaboutthegiftoftongues?Gift,indeed!Imistookthechapter,andbook,andTestament—gospelforlaw,ActsforGenesis,thecityofJerusalemfortheplainofShinar.Itwasnogiftbuttheconfusionoftongueswhichhasgabbledmedeafasapost.You,apostles?What!youthree?CertainlynotthreepresumptuousBabylonishmasons—neithermorenorless!" "Iassureyou,sir,wewereonlyhavingalittlechattogetheroveraglassofwineafterafriendlydinner—settlingtheDissenters!" "Oh!settlingtheDissenters,wereyou?WasMalonesettlingtheDissenters?Itsoundedtomemuchmorelikesettlinghisco-apostles.Youwerequarrellingtogether,makingalmostasmuchnoise—youthreealone—asMosesBarraclough,thepreachingtailor,andallhishearersaremakingintheMethodistchapeldownyonder,wheretheya