The Sun.
London, England, 1869-11-03 00:00:00

DR. CUMMING AND 711 E I'OPE.

There is a story told of the first Liberator—one
ought to be particular, for the dynasty is supposed
to be continued in the person of the present Pre-
mier—which is not unworthy of being recorded.
The great Daniel, when taking a sauntering ride
in the neighbourhood of his house at Caherciveen,
had occasion to ask an urchin to open a gate for
him. The little fellow complied with much alacrity,
and looked up with such an honest pleasure
at rendering the slight service, that O'Connell,
by. way of saying something—anything—asked,
" What's your name, boy ?" " Daniel O'Con-
nell, sir," replied he, stoutly. " And who's your
father ?" demanded the astonished Liberator.
" Daniel O'Connell, sir." O'Connell muttered a
woi d or two below his breath, and then added
j aloud, ‘I"W When I sec you again I'll give you a six-

pence."
Riding bii,kly on, he soon forget the incident,
and fell to thinking of much graver matters, when, •
after some miles of way, he found his path ob-
structed by some fallen timber, which a boy was
stoutly endeavouring to remoN e. On looking more
closely he discovered it to be tile same he had met in
the morning. " What !" cried he, " how doyou come
to be here now ?" " You said, sir, the next time you
seen me you'd give me sixpence," said the little
fellow, wiping the perspiration from his brow.
" Ilu•e it is," said Daniel ; "you are my son—the
devil a doubt of it !" lam not sure 1 should have
remembered this story if I had not been reminded
of it by the correspondence between the Pope and
Dr. Cumming, though I have to own that all re-
semblance between the incidents breaks down in
the catastrophe. Like the urchin on the gate,
Dr. Cumming, with the same hazy notion of how
the paternity is to be established, persists in
assuring the Holy Father that he is his son ; and
like O'Connell, the Pope, not anticipating any ill
consequences from the acknowledgment, nods him
an easy recognition, and rides on. Cumming,
charmed with what he construes to himself to be a
favourable reception, and thinking, doubtless, to
what good purpose he could tuna such a valuable
relationship, albeit not perfectly legitimate, takes a
short cut across the fields, and comes up with his
Holiness again—but this time grown more confident,
it is to say, how he'd like to have a little talk
with the Holy Father on the subject of the family
property.
It is here that the Pope behaves less generously
than the Liberator. Instead of recognising in the
bumptious urchin traits of unblushing impudence
and roguery ; instead of seeing how inevitably all
that craft and subtlety point to an identity of
origin, he is only indignant at the persistent imper-
tinence, and tells him to be off, that he knows
nothing of him at all, and that it never occurred
to him to let him inside his house, or permit him
to claim kith or kindred with him.
There is no doubt his Holiness might have been
more gracious ; he was expecting a large party,
and the presence of a poor relation the more or less
would not have marred the festivity ; and it would
have been a fine thing for the out-at-elbows con-
nection to be able to go about snob-fashion talking
of that evening I spent at the Vatican, with what
Pius said to me, and what I observed to Antonelli
—all the more comfortably that he need never
dread a contradiction. Perhaps the Pope saw this ;
perhaps it was the very peril he desired to avoid.—
Blackwood's Magazine for November, 1869.