ergymen
with almost equal success and profusion. There is in the national
character a considerable share of the constituents that are valuable
in both professions. Power of sympathy, good-nature, intuition,
adroitness, discernment of character, and a gift for taking every man
in his humour. Qualities that are perhaps beside the specialised
requirements, but are equally indispensable.

In what degree these attributes were bestowed upon Doctor Mangan may
gradually be ascertained by the patient reader, but in the case of
Father David Hogan, P.P., of Riverstown, at this juncture in lively
converse with the Misses Talbot-Lowry, the reader may be spared the
exercise of that tiresome virtue, and may feel confident that Father
Hogan failed in none of the qualities that have been enumerated.
Father David was, indeed, the most popular man in the country with all
classes and creeds; he was universally known as the Chaplain of the
B.V.H., and was accounted one of the chiefest glories of the hunt.
Major Talbot-Lowry was accustomed to boast, in places where such as he
congregate, that He, in His country, had the best priest in Ireland! A
real good man. Kept the farmers civil and friendly. Managed a district
for the Fowl Fund. And a topper to ride--always at the top of the
hunt!

"Trust a priest to have a good horse!" is the rejoinder prescribed in
such cases, and Major Dick's fellows seldom failed to comply with the
ritual.

Father David, stout, jolly, and, like his namesake, of a ruddy
countenance, mounted upon a black mare as stout and sporting-looking
as himself, was, as Doctor Mangan drew near to the Misses
Talbot-Lowry, beaming upon these two lambs from another fold, and
having congratulated Miss Judith on the appearance of the grey mare
that she was riding (reft from Lady Isabel and the victoria), was
endearing himself to Miss Christian by tales of the brace of hound
puppies that he was walking for the hunt.

The advantage of being the youngest member of a large family is one
that takes a considerable time to mature. Christian was thirteen years
old before what was left of one of the Hunt horses, after seven
strenuous seasons of official work, was placed at her sole disposal.
This residue, battered though it was, and a roarer of remarkable power
and volume, was incapable of falling, and with anything under eight
stone on its piebald back (piebald from incessant and sedulously
concealed saddle-galls) could always be truste