Phineas Finn

Phineas Finn Proposes to Stand for Loughshane

Dr. Finn, of Killaloe, in county Clare, was as well known in those

parts,--the confines, that is, of the counties Clare, Limerick,

Tipperary, and Galway,--as was the bishop himself who lived in the

same town, and was as much respected. Many said that the doctor was

the richer man of the two, and the practice of his profession was

extended over almost as wide a district. Indeed the bishop whom he

was privileged to attend, although a Roman Catholic, always spoke of

their dioceses being conterminate. It will therefore be understood

that Dr. Finn,--Malachi Finn was his full name,--had obtained a wide

reputation as a country practitioner in the west of Ireland. And he

was a man sufficiently well to do, though that boast made by his

friends, that he was as warm a man as the bishop, had but little

truth to support it. Bishops in Ireland, if they live at home, even

in these days, are very warm men; and Dr. Finn had not a penny in the

world for which he had not worked hard. He had, moreover, a costly

family, five daughters and one son, and, at the time of which we

are speaking, no provision in the way of marriage or profession had

been made for any of them. Of the one son, Phineas, the hero of the

following pages, the mother and five sisters were very proud. The

doctor was accustomed to say that his goose was as good as any other

man’s goose, as far as he could see as yet; but that he should like

some very strong evidence before he allowed himself to express an

opinion that the young bird partook, in any degree, of the qualities

of a swan. From which it may be gathered that Dr. Finn was a man of

common-sense.

Phineas had come to be a swan in the estimation of his mother and

sisters by reason of certain early successes at college. His father,

whose religion was not of that bitter kind in which we in England

are apt to suppose that all the Irish Roman Catholics indulge, had

sent his son to Trinity; and there were some in the neighbourhood of

Killaloe,--patients, probably, of Dr. Duggin, of Castle Connell, a

learned physician who had spent a fruitless life in endeavouring to

make head against Dr. Finn,--who declared that old Finn would not be

sorry if his son were to turn Protestant and go in for a fellowship.

Mrs. Finn was a Protestant, and the five Miss Finns were Protestants,

and the doctor himself was very much given to dining out among his

Protestant friends on a Friday. Our Phineas, however, did not turn

Protestant up in Dublin, whatever his father’s secret wishes on that

subject may have been. He did join a debating society, to success

in which his religion was no bar; and he there achieved a sort of

distinction which was both easy and pleasant, and which, making

its way down to Killaloe, assisted in engendering those ideas as

to swanhood of which maternal and sisterly minds are so sweetly

susceptible. “I know half a dozen old windbags at the present

moment,” said the doctor, “who were great fellows at debating clubs

when they were boys.” “Phineas is not a boy any longer,” said Mrs.

Finn. “And windbags don’t get college scholarships,” said Matilda

Finn, the second daughter. “But papa always snubs Phinny,” said

Barbara, the youngest. “I’ll snub you, if you don’t take care,” said

the doctor, taking Barbara tenderly by the ear;--for his youngest

daughter was the doctor’s pet.

The doctor certainly did not snub his son, for he allowed him to go

over to London when he was twenty-two years of age, in order that he

might read with an English barrister. It was the doctor’s wish that

“All right, old fellow; we shall be sure to carry you through. The

Irish writs will be out on the third of March, and the sooner you’re

there the better.”

Phineas Finn Is Elected for Loughshane

One great difficulty about the borough vanished in a very wonderful

way at the first touch. Dr. Finn, who was a man stout at heart,

and by no means afraid of his great friends, drove himself over to

Castlemorris to tell his news to the Earl, as soon as he got a second

letter from his son declaring his intention of proceeding with the

business, let the results be what they might. Lord Tulla was a

passionate old man, and the doctor expected that there would be a

quarrel;--but he was prepared to face that. He was under no special

debt of gratitude to the lord, having given as much as he had taken

in the long intercourse which had existed between them;--and he

agreed with his son in thinking that if there was to be a Liberal

candidate at Loughshane, no consideration of old pill-boxes and

gallipots should deter his son Phineas from standing. Other

considerations might very probably deter him, but not that. The Earl

probably would be of a different opinion, and the doctor felt it to

be incumbent on him to break the news to Lord Tulla.

“The devil he is!” said the Earl, when the doctor had told his story.

“Then I’ll tell you what, Finn, I’ll support him.”

“You support him, Lord Tulla!”

“Yes;--why shouldn’t I support him? I suppose it’s not so bad with me

in the country that my support will rob him of his chance! I’ll tell

you one thing for certain, I won’t support George Morris.”

“But, my lord--”

“Well; go on.”

“I’ve never taken much part in politics myself, as you know; but my

boy Phineas is on the other side.”

“I don’t care a ---- for sides. What has my party done for me?

Look at my cousin, Dick Morris. There’s not a clergyman in Ireland

stauncher to them than he has been, and now they’ve given the deanery

of Kilfenora to a man that never had a father, though I condescended

to ask for it for my cousin. Let them wait till I ask for anything

again.” Dr. Finn, who knew all about Dick Morris’s debts, and who had

heard of his modes of preaching, was not surprised at the decision

of the Conservative bestower of Irish Church patronage; but on this

subject he said nothing. “And as for George,” continued the Earl, “I

will never lift my hand again for him. His standing for Loughshane

would be quite out of the question. My own tenants wouldn’t vote for

him if I were to ask them myself. Peter Blake”--Mr. Peter Blake was

the lord’s agent--“told me only a week ago that it would be useless.

The whole thing is gone, and for my part I wish they’d disenfranchise

the borough. I wish they’d disenfranchise the whole country, and send

us a military governor. What’s the use of such members as we send?

There isn’t one gentleman among ten of them. Your son is welcome for

me. What support I can give him he shall have, but it isn’t much. I

suppose he had better come and see me.”

The doctor promised that his son should ride over to Castlemorris,

and then took his leave,--not specially flattered, as he felt that

were his son to be returned, the Earl would not regard him as the

one gentleman among ten whom the county might send to leaven the

remainder of its members,--but aware that the greatest impediment

in his son’s way was already removed. He certainly had not gone to

Castlemorris with any idea of canvassing for his son, and yet he had

canvassed for him most satisfactorily. When he got home he did not

know how to speak of the matter otherwise than triumphantly to his