"Ay, and if the priests would communicate to their pupils their experience in frailty, as well as in virtue, how wise they would make us!"
"Ods fish! Morton, you are quite oracular. How got you that fancy of priests?—by observation in life already?"
"No, Uncle: by observation in plays, which you tell me are the mirrors of life; you remember what Lee says,—
"''Tis thought
That earth is more obliged to priests for bodies
Than Heaven for souls.'"
And my uncle laughed, and called me a smart fellow.
CHAPTER XII.
THE ABBE'S RETURN.—A SWORD, AND A SOLILOQUY.
THE next evening, when I was sitting alone in my room, the Abbe Montreuil suddenly entered. "Ah, is it you? welcome!" cried I. The priest held out his arms, and embraced me in the most paternal manner.
"It is your friend," said he, "returned at last to bless and congratulate you. Behold my success in your service," and the Abbe produced a long leather case richly inlaid with gold.
"Faith, Abbe," said I, "am I to understand that this is a present for your eldest pupil?"