to the acquaintance of a cavalier si
beau, being old, rather deaf, very stupid, exceedingly poor--"

"And," interrupted Raoul, "the woman in all Paris the most adored for
bonte, and consulted for savoir vivre by the young cavaliers whom she
deigns to receive. Alain, I present you to Madame de Maury, the widow
of a distinguished author and academician, and the daughter of the brave
Henri de Gerval, who fought for the good cause in La Vendee. I present
you also to the Abbe Vertpre, who has passed his life in the vain
endeavour to make other men as good as himself."

"Base flatterer!" said the Abbe, pinching Raoul's ear with one hand,
while he extended the other to Alain. "Do not let your cousin frighten
you from knowing me, Monsieur le Marquis; when he was my pupil, he so
convinced me of the incorrigibility of perverse human nature, that I now
chiefly address myself to the moral improvement of the brute creation.
Ask the Contessa if I have not achieved a beau succes with her Angora
cat. Three months ago that creature had the two worst propensities of
man,--he was at once savage and mean; he bit, he stole. Does he ever
bite now? No. Does he ever steal? No. Why? I have awakened in that cat
the dormant conscience, and that done, the conscience regulates his
actions; once made aware of the difference between wrong and right, the
cat maintains it unswervingly, as if it were a law of nature. But if,
with prodigious labour, one does awaken conscience in a human sinner, it
has no steady effect on his conduct,--he continues to sin all the
same. Mankind at Paris, Monsieur le Marquis, is divided between two
classes,-one bites and the other steals. Shun both; devote yourself to
cats."

The Abbe delivered this oration with a gravity of mien and tone which
made it difficult to guess whether he spoke in sport or in earnest, in
simple playfulness or with latent sarcasm.

But on the brow and in the eye of the priest there was a general
expression of quiet benevolence, which made Alain incline to the belief
that he was only speaking as a pleasant humourist; and the Marquis
replied gayly,--

"Monsieur L'Abbe, admitting the superior virtue of cats when taught
by so intelligent a preceptor, still the business of human life is not
transacted by cats; and since men must deal with men, permit me, as a
preliminary caution, to inquire in which class I must rank yourself. Do
you bite or do you steal?"

This sally, which showed that the Marqu