'But first he replenished his fountain With liquor the best in the sky, And he swore by the word of his saintship That fountain should never run dry.
'My children, be chaste, till you 're tempted; While sober, be wise and discreet; And humble your bodies with fasting Whene'er you 've nothing to eat.
'Then be not a glass in the convent, Except on a festival, found; And this rule to enforce, I ordain it A festival all the year round.'
A hip, hip, hurrah! that made the very saint totter on his legs, shook the room; and once more the reverend fathers reseated themselves to resume their labours.
Again the conversation flowed cm in its broader channel; and scarcely was the laughter caused by one anecdote at an end when another succeeded, the strangest feature of all this being that he who related the story was, in almost every instance, less the source of amusement to the party than they who, listening to the recital, threw a hundred varied lights upon it, making even the tamest imaginable adventure the origin of innumerable ludicrous situations and absurd fancies. Besides all this, there were characteristic differences in the powers of the party, which deprived the display of any trace or appearance of sameness: the epigrammatic terseness and nicety of Curran; the jovial good-humour and mellow raciness of Lawrence Parsons; the happy facility of converting all before him into a pun or a repartee, so eminently possessed by Toler; and, perhaps more striking than all, the caustic irony and piercing sarcasm of Plunket's wit--relieved and displayed one another, each man's talent having only so much of rivalry as to excite opposition and give interest to the combat, yet never by any accident originating a particle of animosity, or even eliciting a shade of passing irritation.
With what pleasure could I continue to recount the stories, the songs, the sayings, I listened to! With what satisfaction do I yet look back upon that brilliant scene, nearly all the actors in which have since risen to high rank and eminence in the country! How often, too, in their bright career, when I have heard the warm praise of the world bestowed upon their triumphs and their successes, has my memory carried me back to that glorious night, when with hearts untrammelled by care, high in hope, and higher in ambition, these bright spirits sported in all the wanton exuberance of their genius, scattering with profusion the rich ore of their talent, careless of the depths to which the mine should be shafted hereafter! Yes, it is true there were giants in those days. However much one may be disposed to look upon the eulogist of the past, as one whose fancy is more ardent than his memory is tenacious, yet with respect to this, there is no denial of the fact, that great convivial gifts, great conversational power, no longer exist as they did some thirty or forty years ago. I speak more particularly of the country where I passed my youth--of Ireland. And who that remembers those names I have mentioned; who that can recall the fascination, and charm, which almost every dinner-party of the day could boast; who that can bring to mind the brilliancy of Curran, the impetuous power of Plunket, or the elegance of manner and classical perfection of wit that made Burke the Cicero of his nation; who, I say, with all these things before his memory, can venture to compare the society of that period with the present? No, no; the grey hairs that mingle with our brown may convict us of being a prejudiced witness, but we would call into court every one whose testimony is available, and confidently await the verdict.