xplained the reasons of our visit, I was enabled, undisturbed
and unnoticed, to take a brief survey of the party.

Father Malachi Brennan, P.P. of Carrigaholt, was what I had often
pictured to myself as the beau ideal of his caste; his figure was short,
fleshy, and enormously muscular, and displayed proportions which wanted
but height to constitute a perfect Hercules; his legs so thick in the
calf, so taper in the ancle, looked like nothing I know, except perhaps,
the metal balustrades of Carlisle--bridge; his face was large and rosy,
and the general expression, a mixture of unbounded good humour and
inexhaustible drollery, to which the restless activity of his black and
arched eye--brows greatly contributed; and his mouth, were it not for a
character of sensuality and voluptuousness about the nether lip, had been
actually handsome; his head was bald, except a narrow circle close above
the ears, which was marked by a ring of curly dark hair, sadly
insufficient however, to conceal a development behind, that, if there be
truth in phrenology, bodes but little happiness to the disciples of Miss
Martineau.

Add to these external signs a voice rich, fluent, and racy, with the
mellow "doric" of his country, and you have some faint resemblance of one
"every inch a priest." The very antipodes to the 'bonhomie' of this
figure, confronted him as croupier at the foot of the table. This,
as I afterwards learned, was no less a person than Mister Donovan, the
coadjutor or "curate;" he was a tall, spare, ungainly looking man of
about five and thirty, with a pale, ascetic countenance, the only
readable expression of which vibrated between low suspicion and intense
vulgarity: over his low, projecting forehead hung down a mass of straight
red hair; indeed--for nature is not a politician--it almost approached an
orange hue. This was cut close to the head all around, and displayed in
their full proportions a pair of enormous ears, which stood out in
"relief," like turrets from a watch-tower, and with pretty much the same
object; his skin was of that peculiar colour and texture, to which, not
all "the water in great Neptune's ocean" could impart a look of
cleanliness, while his very voice, hard, harsh, and inflexible, was
unprepossessing and unpleasant. And yet, strange as it may seem, he,
too, was a correct type of his order; the only difference being, that
Father Malachi was an older coinage, with the impress of Donay or St.
Omers, wh