It now becomes necessary to say a word or two of this said Bishop Rocket, who came a visitor to the Duke. Patronage--all powerful patronage--had placed the mitre upon his brow, as it too often has done upon the head of many an unmeritorious aspirant to the hierarchy. His classic acquirements and literary attainments will best be told by the subsequent details:--Three friends who came to dine _en famille_ one day at his house in Dublin, sat down, previously to dinner, to play a snug rubber of whist, thus to pass the intermediate time. It happened to be of a Friday, during a parliament winter; the printed proceedings of the House of Lords of the preceding day were brought in, and, as is always the case, the day of the week and the date of the month surmounted the top of the page, as the head and front of these transactions. It ran thus:--"_Die jovis_," &c. "What?" inquired the prelate, addressing one whom his Lordship considered as the most classic of the trio, "pray, what is the meaning of _Die jovis_?"
And in order that such of our fair readers who are not conversant with the Latin tongue may not burst in ignorance with the hierarchical inquirant, we shall give, _in totidem verbis_, the answer of the learned Theban, the bishop's friend:--"Why, my good Lord," said the facetious gentleman, smiling withal, "'fore Jove, my Lord, the two words conjoined mean nothing more nor less than _Thursday_! upon which day your Lordship gave your _benedicite_ to the House of Peers!"
His Lordship lost the odd trick, looked all quite discomposed; nor did he recover himself again until the sumptuous and savoury dinner smoked upon the board.
Bishop Rocket had enlarged the palace at the See-house of----and had built, or caused to be built, with his usual want of tact and judgment, a grand and heavy portico, which fronted the north! Upon the final completion of this most notable and extraordinary structure the prelate seemed quite pleased; in which it was conceived that he remained solely in the singular number. However, he thought fit most condescendingly to write to a friend, then residing at Rome, a long letter, the burden of which ran to the following tenor:--"Now, dear and Reverend Sir, as you are seated, or I, who am a bishop, may say, enthroned at the fountain head of the fine arts, I have to request that you would have the goodness to purchase for me twelve statues of the heathen gods and goddesses to adornate my grand portico, which I have built at an immense expense; and it is allowed by all the curates in my diocese to have been accomplished with no inconsiderable portion of taste! And by so doing you will vastly oblige me."