no better.

When the celibacy of the Fellows of Trinity College, Dublin, became an
active law in that University, the Board proceeded to enforce it, by
summoning to their presence all the individuals who it was well known had
transgressed the regulation, and among them figured Dr. S., many of whose
sons were at the same time students in the college. "Are you married,
Dr. S-----r?" said the bachelor vice-provost, in all the dignity and
pride of conscious innocence. "Married!" said the father of ten
children, with a start of involuntary horror;--"married?" "Yes sir,
married." "Why sir, I am no more married than the Provost." This was
quite enough--no further questions were asked, and the head of the
University preferred a merciful course towards the offender, to
repudiating his wife and disowning his children. Now for the
application. Certain captious and incredulous people have doubted the
veracity of the adventures I have recorded in these pages; I do not think
it necessary to appeal to concurrent testimony and credible witnesses for
their proof, but I pledge myself to the fact that every tittle I have
related is as true as that my name is Lorrequer--need I say more?

Another objection has been made to my narrative, and I cannot pass it by
without a word of remark;--"these Confessions are wanting in scenes of
touching and pathetic interest" (FOOTNOTE: We have the author's
permission to state, that all the pathetic and moving incidents of his
career he has reserved for a second series of "Confessions," to be
entitled "Lorrequer Married?"--Publisher's Note.)--true, quite true; but
I console myself on this head, for I remember hearing of an author whose
paraphrase of the book of Job was refused by a publisher, if he could not
throw a little more humour into it; and if I have not been more miserable
and more unhappy, I am very sorry for it on your account, but you must