"Father, don't remove her," said the son. "Leave her arms where they
are: it's long since they encircled my neck before. Often--often would I
have given the wealth of the universe to be encircled in my blessed and
beloved mother's arms! Yes, yes!--Weep, my father--weep, each of
you. You see those tears:--consider them as a proof that I have never
forgotten you! Beloved mother! recollect yourself: she knows me not--her
eyes wander!--I fear the shock has been too much for her. Place a chair
at the door, and I will bring her to the air."

After considerable effort, the mother's faculties were restored so far
as to be merely conscious that our hero was her son. She had not yet
shed a tear, but now she surveyed his countenance, smiled and named
him, placed her hands upon him, and examined his dress with a singular
blending of conflicting emotions, but still without being thoroughly
collected.

"I will speak to her," said Jemmy, "in Irish, it will go directly to her
heart:--_Mhair, avourneen, tha ma, laht, anish!_--Mother, my darling, I
am with you at last."

"_Shamus, aroon, vick machree, wuil thu Ihum? wuil thu--wuil thu
Ihum?_--Jemmy, my beloved, son of my heart, are you with me?--are
you--are you with me?"

"_Ish maheen a tha in, a vair dheelish machree_--It is I who am with
you, beloved mother of my heart!"

She smiled again--but only for a moment. She looked at him, laid his
head upon her bosom, bedewed his face with her tears, and muttered out,
in a kind of sweet, musical cadence, the Irish cry of joy.

We are incapable of describing the scene further. Our readers must be
contented to know, that the delight and happiness of our hero's whole
family were complete. Their son, after many years of toil and struggle,
had at length succeeded, by a virtuous course of action, in raising them
from poverty to comfort, and in effecting his own object, which was,
to become a member of the Catholic priesthood. During all his trials he
never failed to rely on God; and it is seldom that those who rely upon
Him, when striving to attain a laudable purpose, are ever ultimately
disappointed.

*****

We regret to inform our readers, that the poor scholar is dead! He did
not, in fact, long survive the accomplishment of his wishes. But as we
had the particulars of his story from his nearest friends, we thought
his virtues of too exalted a nature to pass into oblivion without some
record, however humble. He died as he had lived-