poor Monsieur Boileau.

'Canst thou answer to thy conscience for pulling all those fish out of
the water, and leaving them to gasp in the sun?' said a voice, clear and
sonorous as a bell. I started, and looked round. Close behind me stood
the tall figure of a man, dressed in raiment of quaint and singular
fashion, but of goodly materials. He was in the prime and vigour of
manhood; his features handsome and noble, but full of calmness and
benevolence; at least, I thought so, though they were somewhat shaded by
a hat of finest beaver, with broad drooping eaves.

'Surely that is a very cruel diversion in which thou indulgest, my young
friend,' he continued.

'I am sorry for it, if it be, sir,' said I, rising; 'but I do not think
it cruel to fish.'

'What are thy reasons for not thinking so?'

'Fishing is mentioned frequently in Scripture. Simon Peter was a
fisherman.'

'True; and Andrew and his brother. But thou forgettest: they did not
follow fishing as a diversion, as I fear thou doest. Thou readest the
Scriptures?'

'Sometimes.'

'Sometimes? not daily? that is to be regretted. What profession dost
thou make? I mean to what religious denomination dost thou belong, my
young friend?'

'Church.'

'It is a very good profession--there is much of Scripture contained in
its liturgy. Dost thou read aught besides the Scriptures?'

'Sometimes.'

'What dost thou read besides?'

'Greek, and Dante.'

'Indeed! then thou hast the advantage over myself; I can only read the
former. Well, I am rejoiced to find that thou hast other pursuits
besides thy fishing. Dost thou know Hebrew?'

'No.'

'Thou shouldst study it. Why dost thou not undertake the study?'

'I have no books.'

'I will lend thee books, if thou wish to undertake the study. I live
yonder at the hall, as perhaps thou knowest. I have a library there, in
which are many curious books, both in Greek and Hebrew, which I will show
to thee, whenever them mayest find it convenient to come and see me.
Farewell! I am glad to find that thou hast pursuits more satisfactory
than thy cruel fishing.'

And the man of peace departed, and left me on the bank of the stream.
Whether from the effect of his words, or from want of inclination to the
sport, I know not, but from that day I became less and less a
practitioner of that 'cruel fishing.'

* * * * *

Ah, that Irish! How frequently do circumstances, at first sight the most
trivial and unimportan