be—as gaudy, as troublesome, and to all appearance as useless an item in creation as the dragon-fly."
"And has the child no relations?" asked Florian; "no friends, nobody to whom he belongs? What a position; what a fate; what a cruel isolation!"
"He is indeed in that enviable situation which I cannot agree with you in thinking merits one grain of pity. You and I, Florian, with our education and in our career, should, of all people, best appreciate the advantages of perfect freedom from those trammels which old women of both sexes call the domestic affections."
"So young, so hopeful, so spirited," continued Florian, speaking rather to himself than his informant, "and to have no mother!"
"But he had a mother, I tell you," replied Malletort, "only she died of a broken heart, as women always do when a little energy is required to repair their broken fortunes. Our mother, my son," he proceeded, still in the same half-mocking, half-impressive tone, "our mother is the Church. She provides for us carefully during life, and when we die in her embrace, at least affords us decent burial and prayers for our welfare hereafter. I tell you, Florian, she is the most thoughtful as she is the most indulgent of mothers. She offers us opportunity for distinction, or allows us shelter and repose according as our ambition soars to heaven, or limits itself, as I confess mine does, to the affairs of earth. Who shall be found exalted above their kind in the next world? (I speak as I am taught)—Priests. Who fill the high places in this? (I speak as I learn)—Priests. The king's wisest councillors, his ablest financiers, are men of the sober garment and the shaven crown; nay, judging from the simplicity of his habits, and the austerity of his demeanour, I cannot but think that the bravest marshal in our armies is only a priest in disguise."
"There are but two careers worthy of a life-sacrifice," observed Florian, his countenance glowing with enthusiasm, "and glory is the aim of each. But who would compare the soldier of France with the soldier of Rome?—the banner of the Bourbon with the cross of Calvary? How much less noble is it to serve earth than heaven?"
