“FATHER PROUT” is inimitable and unequaled among modern humorous essayists, but unfortunately he wrote chiefly for masters of not less than six languages. When it is necessary to be an expert in Greek as well as in French, Italian, Latin, and ancient Irish to see the point of a joke, there are those of us who will admire Prout from a respectful distance without attempting to realize the niceties of his humor. He was no pretender to learning, however, and no mere pedant. It is doubtful if the nineteenth century produced a greater linguist, but he used his mastery of ancient and modern languages chiefly to amuse himself at the expense of the learned false pretenses of his friends and of contemporary celebrities who probably wished for as little as possible of such friendship as his. His real name was Francis Mahony, and he was born at Cork, Ireland, about 1804. He was educated for the priesthood at Paris and Rome, and the latter part of his life was passed in a monastery; but from 1834 to 1864, he was one of the literary celebrities of Great Britain. His “Reliques of Father Prout” were originally contributed to Fraser’s Magazine. As a versifier he has a nice ear for melody, and but for a defective sense of “time,” he might have become a lyric poet of the highest rank. His possibilities appear in “The Bells of Shandon” and in many of his translations. He died at Paris, May 18th, 1866.