“But before going any further, I must tell you that during the eight months it has been my privilege to sit at Rev. Mr. Perras’ table, I have never seen anything which could make me suspect that my eyes would see, and my ears would hear such things in this parsonage as have just taken place. Sobriety, moderation, truly evangelical temperance in drink and food were the invariable rule. Never a word was said which could make our poor servant girls, or the angels of God blush. Would to God that I had not been here to-day! For I tell you, honestly, that I am scandalized by the epicurean table which is before us; by the enormous quantity of delicate viands and the incredible number of bottles of most costly wines, emptied at this dinner.
“However, I hope I am mistaken in my appreciation of what I have seen and heard—I hope you are all right and that I am wrong. I am the youngest of you all. It is not my business to teach you, but it is my duty to be taught by you.
“Now, I have given you my mind, because you so pressingly requested me to do it, as honestly as human language will allow me to do. I have the right, I hope, to request you to tell me, as honestly, if I am, and in what I am, wrong or right!”
“Oh! ho! my dear Chiniquy,” replied the old curate, “you hold the stick by the wrong end. Are we not the children of God?”
“Yes, sir,” I answered, “we are the children of God.”
“Now, does not a loving father give what he considers the best part of his goods to his beloved children?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
“Is not that loving father pleased when he sees his beloved children eat and drink the good things he has prepared for them?”
“Yes, sir,” was my answer.
“Then,” rejoined the logical priest, “the more we, the beloved children of God, eat of these delicate viands, and drink of those precious wines, which our Heavenly Father puts into our hands, the more he is pleased with us. The more we, the most beloved ones of God, are merry and cheerful, the more he is himself pleased and rejoiced in his heavenly kingdom.