the fact is," he said, after a pause, "I cannot touch
wine or spirits, because I want to work at night, and I must have all my
faculties clear."

"Then you are working hard. God bless you! I saw your notes the other
day. But don't forget your Greek. French is the language of diplomacy,
Italian the language of love, German the language of philosophy,
English the language of commerce, Latin the language of the Church,
Greek the language of the scholar, and Hebrew the language of God. But I
remember it gave a new zest to my studies long ago, when I read
somewhere that our Divine Lord spoke Greek, at least amongst the
learned, for Greek in the East was what Latin has been in the West."

"Yes, but 't is pitiful," he replied, with a blush; "I did get a gold
medal from all Ireland in Greek; and yet, when I took up such an easy
book as Homer the other day, why, 't was all Greek to me."

Here Hannah broke in, opening the door.

"Won't you take another cup of coffee, sir?" Awaiting the reply, Hannah
poked up the fire and sent the blazes dancing merrily up the chimney.
Then she raised the flame of the lamp, and did a great many other
unnecessary things; but the kitchen is lonesome.

"Well, Hannah," said Father Letheby enthusiastically, "I will. You have
made me a confirmed teetotaler. I would not even think of punch when
your fragrant coffee is before me."

"Wisha, then, sir, but there's more life in the little drop of sperrits.
However, your reverence is welcome to whatever you like in this house."

This is not the first time Hannah has assumed a tone of proprietorship
in my little establishment. Well, no matter. It is our Irish
communism,--very like that of the Apostles, too.

"You must not be disheartened about that," I said. "I read some time ago
that no less a person than Lord Dufferin declared that, although he had
taken a degree in Greek, he could not read a line of it in after years
till he had learned it all over again, and in his own way."

"I am delighted to hear that," said Father Letheby.

"And when you do master your Greek," I said, "use your knowledge where
it will profit you most."

He waited.

"On the Greek Fathers. Believe me, there is more poetry, science,
philosophy, and theology there than in all modern literature, since
Shakespeare. We don't know it. The Anglican divines do. I suspect that
many a fairly sculptured sermon and learned treatise was cut from these
quarries."

I suppose the poor f