No More Learning

Now, at this time there was a little boy learning at one of them
who was a wonder to every one for his cleverness. His parents were
only labouring people, and of course very poor; but young as he was,
and poor as he was, no king's or lord's son could come up to him in
learning. Even the masters were put to shame; for when they were trying
to teach him he would tell them something they had never heard of
before, and show them their ignorance. One of his great triumphs was
in argument, and he would go on till he proved to you that black was
white, and then when you gave in, for no one could beat him in talk,
he would turn round and show you that white was black, or may be that
there was no colour at all in the world. When he grew up his poor
father and mother were so proud of him that they resolved to make him a
priest, which they did at last, though they nearly starved themselves
to get the money. Well, such another learned man was not in Ireland,
and he was as great in argument as ever, so that no one could stand
before him. Even the Bishops tried to talk to him, but he showed them
at once they knew nothing at all.

Now, there were no schoolmasters in those times, but it was the priests
taught the people; and as this man was the cleverest in Ireland all the
foreign kings sent their sons to him as long as he had house-room to
give them. So he grew very proud, and began to forget how low he had
been, and, worst of all, even to forget God, who had made him what he
was. And the pride of arguing got hold of him, so that from one thing
to another he went on to prove that there was no Purgatory, and then no
Hell, and then no Heaven, and then no God; and at last that men had no
souls, but were no more than a dog or a cow, and when they died there
was an end of them. 'Who ever saw a soul? ' he would say. 'If you can
show me one, I will believe. ' No one could make any answer to this;
and at last they all came to believe that as there was no other world,
every one might do what they liked in this, the priest setting the
example, for he took a beautiful young girl to wife. But as no priest
or bishop in the whole land could be got to marry them, he was obliged
to read the service over for himself.
It was a great scandal, yet no
one dared to say a word, for all the kings' sons were on his side,
and would have slaughtered any one who tried to prevent his wicked
goings-on. Poor boys! they all believed in him, and thought every word
he said was the truth. In this way his notions began to spread about,
and the whole world was going to the bad, when one night an angel came
down from Heaven, and told the priest he had but twenty-four hours to
live. He began to tremble, and asked for a little more time.

But the angel was stiff, and told him that could not be.

'What do you want time for, you sinner? ' he asked.

'Oh, sir, have pity on my poor soul! ' urged the priest.

'Oh, ho! You have a soul, then? ' said the angel. 'Pray how did you find
that out? '

'It has been fluttering in me ever since you appeared,' answered the
priest. 'What a fool I was not to think of it before!