en upon the strength of my prospective
priesthood, begun to claim relationship with our family, and before I
was nineteen, I found myself godfather to a dozen godsons and as many
god-daughters; every one of whom I had with unusual condescension
taken under my patronage; and most of the boys were named after myself.
Finding that I was thus responsible for so much, in the opinion of my
friends, and having the aforesaid character of piety to sustain, I found
it indispensable to make the pilgrimage. Not that I considered myself a
sinner, or by any means bound to go from that motive, for although the
opinion of my friends, as to my talents and sanctity, was exceedingly
high, yet, I assure you, it cut but a very indifferent figure, when
compared with my own on both these subjects.

I very well remember that the first sly attempt I ever made at a miracle
was in reference to Lough Derg; I tried it by way of preparation for
my pilgrimage. I heard that there had been a boat lost there, about the
year 1796, and that a certain priest who was in her as a passenger, had
walked very calmly across the lake to the island, after the bout and the
rest of the passengers in her had all gone to the bottom. Now, I had,
from my childhood, a particular prejudice against sailing in a boat,
although Dick Darcy, a satirical and heathenish old bachelor, who never
went to Mass, used often to tell me, with a grin which I was never able
rightly to understand, that I might have no prejudice against sailing,
"because," Dick would say, "take my word for it, you'll never die by
drowning." At all events, I thought to myself, that should any such
untoward accident occur to me, it would be no unpleasant circumstance
to imitate the priest; but that it would be infinitely more agreeable
to make the first experiment in a marl-pit, on my father's farm, than
on the lake. Accordingly, after three days' fasting, and praying for the
power of not sinking in the water, I slipped very quietly down to the
pit, and after reconnoitering the premises, to be sure there was no
looker-on, I approached the brink. At this moment my heart beat high
with emotion, my soul was wrapt up to a most enthusiastic pitch
of faith, and my whole spirit absorbed in feelings, where
hope--doubt--gleams of uncertainty--visions of future eminence--twitches
of fear--reflections on my expertness in swimming--on the success of the
water-walking priest afore-mentioned--and on the depth of the pond--h