kindness. But as to the money--he'll be proud of your assistance
the other way, sir,--so not a penny--'tis only your good-will we
want--hem--except indeed, that you'd wish yourself to make a piece of
kindness of it to the poor boy. Oh, not a drop more, sir,--I declare
it'll be apt to get into my head. Well, well--sure an' we're not to
disobey our clargy, whether or not: so here's your health over agin,
your Reverence! an' success to the poor child that's bint on good!"

"Two guineas his Reverence is to give you from himself, Jimmy," said the
father, on relating the success of this interview with the priest; "an'
faix I was widin one of refusin' it, for feard it might bring something
unlucky* wid it; but, thought I, on the spur, it's best to take it,
any way. We can asily put it off on some o' these black-mouthed
Presbyterians or Orangemen, by way of changin' it, an' if there's
any hard fortune in it, let them have the full benefit of it, _ershi
misha_." ( ** Say I.)

* There is a superstitious belief in some parts of
Ireland, that priests' money is unlucky; "because," say
the people, "it is the price of sin"--alluding to
absolution.

It is by trifles of this nature that the unreasonable though enduring
hatred with which the religious sects of Ireland look upon those of a
different creed is best known. This feeling, however, is sufficiently
mutual. Yet on both sides there is something more speculative than
practical in its nature. When they speak of each other as a distinct
class, the animosity, though abstracted, appears to be most deep; but
when they mingle in the necessary intercourse of life, it is curious
to see them frequently descend, on both sides, from the general rule to