It has been said that no man is a hero to his _valet-de-chambre_; but
I think the truth of the sentiment contained in that saying is
questionable. Denis, on the contrary, was nowhere so great a man as in
his own chimney-corner, surrounded by his family. It was there he was
learned, accomplished, profound; next to that, he was great among those
who, although not prejudiced in his favor by the bonds of affection,
were too ignorant to discover those literary pranks which he played off,
because he knew he could do so without detection. The basis, however, of
his character was shrewd humor and good sense; and even at the stage of
life which we have just described, it might have been evident to a close
observer that, when a proper knowledge of his own powers, joined to a
further acquaintance with the world, should enable him to cast off the
boyish assumption of pedantry, a man of a keen, ready intellect and
considerable penetration would remain.

Many of my readers may be inclined to exclaim that the character of
Denny is not to be found in real life; but they are mistaken who think
so. They are not to suppose that Denis O'Shaughnessy was the same person
in his intercourse with intelligent men and scholars, that he appeared
among the illiterate peasantry, or his own relations. Far from it. With
the former, persons like him are awkward and bashful, or modest and
unassuming, according to the bent of their natural disposition. With
scholars Denis made few pretensions to superior knowledge; but, on the
contrary, took refuge, if he dreaded a scrutiny into his acquirements,
in the humblest acknowledgment of his limited reading, and total
unacquaintance with those very topics on which he was, under other
circumstances, in the habit of expatiating so fluently. In fact, were
I to detail some of the scenes of his exhibitions as they were actually
displayed, then I have no doubt I might be charged with coloring too
highly.