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Hogan, M.P. A novel, 3 vols. carried him up to Dublin.

After a Henry S. King & Co. London, 1876. severe and continuous course of study - There is a considerable amount of

he passed a brilliant entrance examinacleverness in this novel, though we

tion into Trinity College, and, without

being afterwards distinguished, got cannot say that the ability of the

through his legal and other studies writer has proved quite equal to the

with the reputation of being a sure and ambition of his design. He had solid, if somewhat slow student. He evidently two leading objects in eked out his resources by teaching; view—to exhibit a ridiculous picture and on his mother's death, which hapof the pretension and vulgarity of pened the same year that he was called a certain class of parvenu society in

to the English Bar, found himself pos

sessed of some twelve hundred pounds' Dublin, and to expose the demoraliz

worth of railway stock, and not a single ing tactics of priests and agitators encumbrance, where with to face the who trade on party in Ireland. world. He was clever and good-lookThese aims are kept consistentlying, very gentlemanlike in appearance, enough in view throughout, and in and had an irreproachable accent-a many respects are realized with most important item in our inventory much rough force and striking of his qualifications." effect. Hogan is a model of the unprincipled patriot of our day.

Ambitious and pliant, to obtain a He represents fairly the class of

seat in Parliament as representative unscrupulous adventurers who ob

of Peatstown, Hogan adopts, against tain seats in Parliament by pan

his better judgment, the platform dering to the revolutionary incen

of the extreme party, which he thus diarism that is a curse to the

mockingly sets forth :country. He is a Roman Catholic,

• Home Rule, absolute and unthe nephew of a Bishop, and is thus

conditional; Clerical control of introduced to the reader :

Education; Tenant-right; Amnesty;

and-ah-oh-of course, the Holy " Hogan owed everything to his Father's Grievances—" uncle, he was bound to defer to his

At the same time, he secures the prejudices. The barrister's father had been a tradesman in a little inland

support of a Tory nobleman who country town; and he, an only son,

has influence in the borough, by had been destined by his mother for pledging himself to do his best in the Church. For this, however, the promoting the carriage of a railway youth had shown but scant inclination, bill in which his lordship is perand after absorbing the very limited sonally interested. In this way stock of knowledge to be procured at Hogan secures his election, though the diocesan college of turned home to take his place in his

opposed by the parish priest, who father's drapery shop. This was even

regards with suspicion his proless to his taste than the clerical

fessions of patriotism. career, but his efforts to free himself Hogan had become the comfrom the toils of the hated business panion and dupe of a Dublin broker, were unavailing. After a year or two called Saltasche; and when in Parof discontented servitude, the fates liament he maintains himself prin. willed it that his father should die

cipally by speculating on the Stock suddenly, and he found himself, at the

Exchange, under the inspiration of age of nineteen, master of his own destiny. He confided his wishes and

Saltasche, and by editing The Beacon, aspirations to his mother's brother, a weekly paper, which that enterthe then P. P. of St. Columbkille. prising company-monger had estabFather O'Rooney, good-naturedly con

lished for the purpose of inflating sented to give him a chance, and his financial bubbles.

he re


Literary Notices.

In due course Hogan sinks lower University degree? Moreover who in the scale of political rectitude, are their professors?-mere nobodies, and his moral sense becomes cor.

or men trained in and belonging to the respondingly obdurate. At last

Queen's Universities or Trinity.' Saltasche, when all his schemes

“It's a pity, Mr. Hogan,' said Salt

asche, 'that you are not in St. were matured, elopes with another

Stephen's; if you were to talk that way, man's wife, his splendid bubbles you'd soon make your mark.' burst, and all who trusted him are "All in good time,' laughed the barvictimized. Amid the general catas- rister, emptying his glass. 'I hope to trophe, Hogan, who is utterlyruined,

be one day, manages, nevertheless, to save him. “I think,' said Saltasche, 'that one self. `He sacrifices the affection of social distinction of Trinity. That

important feature in the case is the an amiable girl, and marries, for

has an attraction for Catholics of a her money, a Protestant lady much

certain grade. There is a marked doolder than himself, through whose sire on the part of many of the profesfamily influence he is appointed sional set to know and mix with the secretary to a Colonial Governor, other persuasion.' with a salary of £300 a year. And

". Decidedly so. And an equally so terminate ingloriously the for.

marked desire on the part of their tunes of the aspiring patriot.

ecclesiastical rulers that they shall do Such, briefly, is the outline of Hogan, if the Catholics want to get

nothing of the kind. Anyhow,' added Hogan, M.P., and if, instead of into Protestant society, they don't go refined, delicate, and pungent satire, the right way about it. Men, of course, there is too much of rather broad know each other; but it's the women and coarse caricature in the filling who bar the way. R. C. women are up, still we must admit that the terribly behind the age. Did you hear descriptions generally have truth

the last story of Lady St. Aldegonde ? and point, more especially in the of Westmeath, to come up in time for

She wrote to her friends, the Hawardens sketches of society, in which the

the dinner of the 14th. We shall Raffertys, the Branigans, the Mul

have only our own friends," said she; doons, and the Cogarties so con- "none of these dreadful Dublin lawyers' spicuously figure.

Here is some wives." truth anent Roman Catholic Uni. versity Education

As a specimen of our author's

facetiæ we may quote the follow"Do you imagine they looked for ing: concurrent endowment?'

“• Hardly,' replied the broker. “They “Well, I heard a good story from know better than to take a State pro- Father Tom McCollumby the other vision; but they thought to get it, and day,' said Father Desmond. think they will get it still, for a Catho- ***Tell us that, Father Dan; it's sure lic University

to be good.' "Hogan shook his head. "No, no,' Father Desmond cleared his voice, said he; Trinity is absorbing such took a sip of toddy, and began in a Catholic youngsters as want college dry solemn way, education and degrees. I think the "A friend of his, a priest, was hearStephen Green University merely draws ing confessions one Saturday, and a medical students. After all, they have boy came to him and said he had a a very good excuse for patronizing rale bad sin on his mind. “Well, me Trinity. Few people can afford to lose good boy, come on wid it," said his time and money taking out a degree reverence: “sure we must all be forthat has no market value-a mere given; so what is it now?” “Augh certificate. Look at me, for example. den, your riverence, I do be always What should I be doing with a Catholic sayin", Be the Holy Father." "You

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do?-that's very bad, me boy. Now, how often do you be sayin' that? do you say it twice a day?" "Oh! begor, an' I do, an' more, your riverence." 'Do you say it twenty times a day, me good boy? Augh! begor, an' I do; an' more than forty times a day, your riverence!" "This is very bad indeed, me good boy. Go home now," said the priest, "and get your sister to make you a bag, and hang it round your neck; and every time you say, Be the Holy Father, drop a little stone in it, and come here to me this day week.

"Well, that day week his riverence was hearin' as usual in his box, and he heard an awful noise in the church, so he looked out ov the dure; and what does he see but his penitent, an' he draggin' a sack up the body ov the church! "Tady Mulloy," says he, "what do ye mane be sich conduck as that in de church?" " 'Shure, yer riverence," says the fellow, "dese is all the Be de Holy Fathers, an' de rest of um's outside in the dray.'

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"There was a Kerry priest,' began Ned Shea, and he had the fashion of hearin' confessions wid a slate an' pencil; an' he'd write down every sin, an' the price of it opposite. Well, one day a big mountainy fellow came to his duty, an', says he, "I bruk a man's head last Hallow-eve." "That's ninepence," says the priest. "I cut the tail iv Larry Kelly's cow." "That's a shillin': oh, begob, a shillin' that is!" and down it went on the slate. "I murthered me wife twice." "That's thruppence, go on." "I kilt an Orangeman.' "Whoo!" says the priest, rubbin' out everything; "that clanes out all the rest."


""Listen, then,' said Miss Eily Rafferty; here's a wrinkle for you, Mary Doyle. Did any of ye hear this story? Mother Paul told it to mamma last day she was visiting at St. Swithin's. There was a young lady, a great friend of her own (so now it must be true), livin' on the Laracore Road, just out that way a bit to the Green Lanes; and she was most anxious to get settled. Do ye mind how a nun never Bays get married," it is always settled they call it-ho! ho!' and Miss Eily giggled irreverently. 'Well, the girl began a novena to Saint Joseph; and the ninth day, when the novena was done, and nobody turned up to marry her, she flew in a rage, and says she to Saint Joseph, "Old boy, you've been here long enough," says she"and out you go!" An', me dear, what do you think but she opened the window, and she hurls the imidge plump into the street! 'Tis a fact! Well, a gentleman was passin' by, an' he saw the white thing fallin' down, an' me dear, he caught it, and he came up and knocked at the hall door. Well, her mother was in the hall; an' of course, the least thing she could do in mere politeness was to ask him in. Then, the girl she comes down, an', me dear, her mother introduced her, an' they were married in a month. So now!'"

We had marked other passages for quotation, but must refer to the work itself, which, though not of first-class excellence, has some good stuff in it, and will afford entertainment to the majority of readers.



No. DXXV.]



FOR the preservation of the early traditions concerning the Abbeychurch, bearing the name of England's first martyr, we are, as is usual in similar cases, principally indebted to the chroniclers who worked in the scriptorium of the Monastery. We hear of a monk William who wrote in 1170, and Walter in 1181; but the first St. Alban's annalist of any note was Roger de Wendover, whose chronicles are full but inaccurate, and too deeply tinged, moreover, with priestly sympathies. His work was formerly attributed to Matthew Paris, who had merely transcribed and revised the manuscripts of his predecessor. In Bohn's "Antiquarian Library" we have translations by Dr. Giles of both these chroniclers. Roger de Wendover's record ceases in 1235. Dr. Giles, in the preface to his translations, remarks "that it was far from the intention of Matthew Paris to claim in the slightest degree what was due to another;" for in the margin of one of the early manuscript copies now remaining, at the year 1235, we read, "So far is copied from an old book;" and in another old manu


script of the same work are found the words "Mister Roger of Wendover, formerly prior of Belvoir, has thus far digested his chronicles."

Matthew Paris, the appointed annalist from 1235-1259, was very diligent in collecting his materials, and as Newcome, in his " History of the Abbey of St. Alban's," remarks, "was of a temper too brave and independent to comply with, or to flatter the usurping pretensions of either the Pope or the King." Mr. Green in his "Short History of the English People," eulogizes Matthew Paris as "an annalist whose pages glow with the new outburst of patriotic feeling which the common oppression of the people and the clergy had produced. Matthew Paris," "Mr. Green continues, was an eminent artist as well as an historian, and many of the manuscripts which are preserved are illustrated by his own hand. A large circle of correspondence

furnished him with minute accounts of political and ecclesiastical proceedings. Pilgrims from the East and Papal agents brought news of foreign events to his scriptorium at St. Alban's. He

had access to, and quotes largely English geography, and no doubt from, state documents, charters, and the able burin of my friend Basire exchequer rolls. The frequency of will truly show the world that M. the royal visits to the Abbey brought Paris could not make a map. 1 him a store of political intelligence, think you have got those two blots and Henry III. himself contributed which Giraldus Cambrensis calls to the great chronicle which has England and Ireland; if not, pray preserved with so terrible a faith- let me send you such valuable comfulness the memory of his weakness panions to my Master Mat.” and misgovernment." The sunshine The manuscripts of the learned of royal favour, which dazzled many monk were in early times, as now, of our old chroniclers, blinding treasured with great reverence.

In them to the truth, left Matthew Knight's “ Pictorial History of Paris independent, undaunted, and England we read, “ On a manuclear-sighted. Bravely he wrote script of Matthew Paris, now in the what he felt to be true; and this he British Museum, there is an indid, well knowing the cost. “ The scription, in Latin, dated 1st June, case of historical writers,” he says, 1488, in the handwriting and with “is hard ; for if they tell the truth the signature of John Russell, then they provoke men, and if they write Bishop of Lincoln, in which who- . what is false they offend God.” In soever shall obliterate or destroy the a curious and valuable manuscriptbishop's memorandum respecting now at the British Museum, namely, the ownership of the volume is Matthew Paris's works which he solemnly declared to be accursed."

be presented to Henry III., we find Matthew Paris, who was rememmany incidents of English History bered by his brother monks as the represented in illuminations done “pride and glory of their monasby his own hand. In Nichols's tery," was succeeded in the scrip“Literary Anecdotes” (vol. viii. torium by William de Rishanger, pp. 608 &c.) we

come upon a

who carried on the story of St. correspondence between M. Tyson Alban's Abbey till 1272, the last and R. Gough concerning Matthew year of Henry III. The scant Paris as an artist and a drawer of and lifeless jottings of this maps.


collected and The book of tracing-paper you arranged by the last of the St. have,” Tyson writes to Gough, Alban's annalists, Thomas Wals“ was intended for some very curi- ingham, who, after a pause of con. ous figures of Chaucer's Pilgrims, siderable length, took up the thread in a very old illuminated MS, which of the narrative, threw together the I now have in my room.

successive annals, and produced the Mr. Nasmith tells me that this very “ Historia Anglicana," which was copy was given by Matthew Paris long known “Walsingham's himself to the Abbey of St. Alban's. History.” Thomas Walsingham I have since found the dedication : died in 1440. Independently of • Hunc librum dedit fr. Math. de the above writings, we learn much Parisiis Deo'

[no doubt - from old chartularies, ledger- books, and to St. Alban's)."

and shorter histories compiled in And again,

" The

idlest of the Monastery. Thus we have a Camus's sons"—(Tyson here alludes continued and regular account, to a Cambridge friend of his who more or less trustworthy, of St. had delayed the performance of his Alban's Abbey until the time of its promise) —" has at last traced this dissolution in 1539. According to most truly valuable specimen of monkish tradition, Offa, the re



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