her Burke, dine that night with Mr.
Irving and Mr. Toole, and go on the next day to America.

"What has this Inquisitor done to you?" queried Father Tom.

"Cauterised me with chloroform."

"Oh! that's a modern improvement! Let me see--" and, scrutinising the
results, he said, with a merry twinkle in his deep, dark eyes--"I see
how it is! They brought you a veterinary!"

This was in 1878. On that too brief, delightful morning, we talked of
all things--supralunar, lunar, and sublunary. Much of Wales, I remember,
where he had been making a visit. "A glorious country," he said, "and
the Welsh would have been Irish, only they lost the faith." Full of love
for Ireland as he was, he was beginning then to be troubled by symptoms
in the Nationalist movement, which could not be regarded with composure
by one who, in his youth at Rome, had seen, with me, the devil of
extremes drive Italy down a steep place into the sea.

Five years afterwards I landed at Queenstown, in July 1883, intending to
visit him at Tallaght. But when the letter which I sent to announce my
coming reached the monastery, the staunchest Soldier of the Church in
Ireland lay there literally "dead on the field of honour." Chatham, in
the House of Lords, John Quincy Adams, in the House of Representatives,
fell in harness, but neither death so speaks to the heart as the simple
and sublime self-sacrifice of the great Dominican, dragging himself from
his dying bed into Dublin to spend the last splendour of his genius and
his life for the starving children of the poor in Donegal.

What would I not give for an hour with him now!

After breakfast I went out to find Mr. Davitt, hoping he might suggest
some way of seeing the Nationalist meeting on Wednesday night without
undergoing the dismal penance of sitting out all the speeches. I wished
also to ask him why at Rathkeale he talked about the Dunravens as
"absentees." He was born in Lord Lucan's country, and may know little of
Limerick, but he surely ought to know that Adare Manor was built of
Irish materials, and by Irish workmen, under the eye of Lord Dunraven,
all the finest ornamental work, both in wood and in stone, of the
mansion, being done by local mechanics; and also that the present owners
of Adare spend a large part of every year in the country, and are
deservedly popular. He was not to be found at the National League
headquarters, nor yet at the Imperial Hotel, which is his usual resort,
as Morrison's i