with so much pleasure; and may God préservé their beautiful faces from suffering either by sea or by land! And I think one of them is as like Helen in Homer, whom old King Priam contrived to fall in love with, and the other so like Venus, that they were the very images of those now before me.”

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The ladies began now, for the first time, to look with a softer air of condescension; and Mr. Curran, having by that whiff of incense secured a party, proceeded with more courage. "Now, Doctor, as I have answered all your questions, may I be allowed to ask you in turn, if you have read Echo in Erasmus?" "Why, not very well; it was written by a Popish priest, and its doctrines are not in our Church held to be Orthodox, yet it may be, though I cannot say that I have read it; but what of that?" 66 Why, Doctor, this of that, that though Erasmus was a Popish priest, he has taught Echo many witty things; when he asks, Quidnam querunt, qui querunt sacerdotium? Echo answers, otium, and asks again, quidnam aliud querit Sacerdos? Echo, Kerdos. Now, Doctor, that the ladies may know all, for instance, supposing (and I beg their pardons), that they have not been taught these languages, since they and the old religion went out of fashion long before their time, with Queen Elizabeth; the substance translated is, that the clergy are fond of ease and

gain, and this, doctor, accounts for your fat and fine clothes." The ladies saw the point, they saw the Doctor in danger, though the Church was safe. The tide began to turn. The Doctor resorted to anger, the last refuge of dulness and of detected ignorance, and told the shop-keeper he was wastly wulgar; that these hairs did not become him, and, like Lubin Log in the play, hastily asked for his Numparrel.

Mr. Curran perceiving the distress, and wishing to lighten it for the moment, told some anecdotes directed to the taste and understanding of the ladies; preserving in all he said a strict attention to Grammar, and occasionally enriching his tones with all the fatness of the Irish brogue, He still kept the Doctor in view, and gave him only time to recover, that he might with more effect finish with him. He amused them with anecdotes of the turn, wit, and humour of the peasantry of his country. An Irish witness, he said, was called on the table to give evidence, and having a preference for his own language, first, as that in which he could best express himself; next, as being a poor Celt, he loved it for its antiquity; but above all other reasons, that he could better escape cross-examination by it: and wishing to appear mean and poor, and therefore a mere Irish, he was observed, on coming into court, to take the buckles cunningly out of his

shoes. The reason of this was asked by counsel, and one of the country people, his opponent in the suit, cried out, "The reason, my lord, is, that that fellow does not like to appear to be master of two tongues." He now and then amused the Doctor's prejudices by stories of Irish priests. On the first visit which a young clergyman of this order made to Paris, he discovered his uncle, who, though a Doctor of the Sorbonne, was not so learned as the young friar was taught to expect. The uncle came to see him in his lodgings, badly provided with furniture, and with a very meagre library: on taking leave he said, Vale, Doctor, sine Libris!" (farewel, Doctor, without Books). The nephew returned the visit, and on departing, surveyed the splendid apartments, and well stocked library of his uncle; and bowing, said, "Valete Libri, sine Doctore!" (farewel Books, without a Doctor). The ladies felt the allusion, and the Doctor was lost in the laugh; they, however, thought they could trace a resemblance.

He entertained them with an anecdote of an Irish tenant in Kerry, who came to pay his rent of £500, and the lady of the house perceiving he had a propensity to play, she being very ugly, of a musty, dingy countenance, with a bad squint, and who never looked straightly at any object but a pack of cards, or the money set on the game. She prevailed on him, however, to play,

till he had lost all his money, and she still continued to encourage him, relying on his honour now that his money was lost. At length, fixing his eyes fiercely on her, he excused himself, declaring in a decided tone, that he would play no more with her ladyship, for that she had the devil's look and her own.

By this time, the Doctor having regained somewhat of his temper by the aids of dinner, and a little port wine, Mr. Curran resumed the conversation, and made enquiries as to the English course of studies; to all which he got short and uncourteous answers, not satisfactory to either. "Doctor," said he, "give me leave to ask you, have you read Milton's Paradise Lost, with Addison's Criticisms?" The doctor turned round peevishly, and told him he was impertinent, and making vastly too free, and locked himself. up in impenetrable sullenness, muttering, that the fellow was a Papist, and a zealot of rebellion; and observed on the bad company so frequently met in public coaches. One of the ladies, with a perfect good humour, having perceived the raillery on the Doctor, archly said, "Come, Mr. Dublin shopkeeper, I'll take a glass of wine with you." Mr. Curran then addressing the Doctor, said, "Sir, it is now time to open your eyes to the genius, manners, and literature of a country, of which your prejudices must for ever keep you chained

down in ignorance. Whenever I go with my tapes and threads into the houses of the greatest lords or bishops, or lawyers in Dublin, they converse with me with as much familiarity as these young ladies would do, but for the restraints your presence hath imposed upon them. In England you seem to begin at the wrong end of education, and your logic, sciences, and classics and languages, seem to me to be but half learned, if I am to judge by the specimens you afford.""What!" said the Doctor hastily, "will you pretend to say, that we do not speak the English purely and correctly?" "I'll tell you what, Doctor, I will bet you the £40 I have here in my pocket, that the two last sentences you have spoken, or the two next you will speak, were not, nor will be Grammar, or pure or correct English and, Doctor, as to your not speaking your own language with the richness and purity of tone (the brogue), we do, I forgive you that; for it is more your misfortune than your fault; as you had not the good luck to have been born at the right side of the water; and thus, my good Doctor, I leave you." On another occasion he dramatized a country schoolmaster under circumstances nearly similar: possibly even its pleasures may be too much for the present.

Mr. Curran was very national; he entertained a high opinion of the capacity of his countrymen ;