the hearts of her heroes and kings. And with all my ancient
prejudices in favor of my own caste, I see clearly that the equipments
of the new generation are best suited to modern needs. The bugle-call of
the future will sound the retreat for the ancient cavalry and the Old
Guard, and sing out, Forward the Light Brigade!

This evening, as usual, the conversation was discursive. It ranged over
the whole area of human knowledge and experience, from the price of a
horse to Lehmkuhl's Latinity, and from the last political speech to the
everlasting question, ever discussed and never decided, What is meant by
the month's residence as a condition for the acquisition of a domicile?
That horrible drug was irritating the nerves of the younger men, until I
heard, as in a dream, a Babel of voices:--"The two Ballerini,"--"They'll
never arrest him,"--"He'll certainly fire on the people,"--"Daniel never
wrote that book, I tell you,"--"'T is only a ringbone,"--"Fifty times
worse than a sprain,"--"He got it in the Gregorian University,"--"Paddy
Murray, George Crolly,"--"I admire Balfour for his profound knowledge
of metaphysics,"--"Did you see the article in the _Record_ about the
Spanish dispensation?"--"He's got a first-class mission in
Ballarat,"--"No, the lessons were from the Scripture occurring,"--"I
don't think we're bound to these Masses,"--"'Twas a fine sermon, but too
flowery for my tastes,"--"Yes, we expect a good Shrove this year,"--"His
_Data of Ethics_ won't stand examination,"--"Our fellows will lick yours
well next time,"--"Picking the grapes and lemons at Tivoli,"--"Poor old
Kirby, what an age he is,"--"'Twilight and evening bell, and after that
the dark, And may there be no sadness of farewell, when I embark,'
that's the way it runs,"--"He cut in his physic year, and is running a
paper in Boston,"--"It is up now to thirty-five shillings a ton, and
will go higher," etc., etc. The older men, under the more kindly
influence, were calm as sophomores. Amidst the whirlpool of words, they
clung to two sheet-anchors,--O'Connell in politics, and St. Alphonsus in
theology.

At last, the conversation simmered down into an academic debate, whether
the centripetal system, which concentrates all Irish students in
Maynooth, or the centrifugal, which sends them scampering over the
Continent to the ancient universities, was the better. This was a calm,
judicious tournament, except now and again, when I had to touch the
gong, and say:--