as grand a dignitary, if not as austere an ecclesiastic, as his master.
It was perhaps by way of compensation for their evil repute, and for the unholy nature of their associations throughout the Middle Ages, that cats, when struggling back to respectability, should have been so widely patronized and encouraged by the Church. The shadow that rested on their fair fame gave them, it may be, an added interest to the clerical mind, which has ever a turn for exorcism. Washington Irving, sitting in the library of Abbotsford, observed how attentively Hinse listened to the Arthurian legends which Scott was reading aloud. "Ah!" said the wise Sir Walter, "cats are a mysterious kind of folk. There is more passing in their minds than we are aware of. It comes no doubt from their being so familiar with warlocks and witches."
By this time they were equally familiar with the Christian hierarchy. Gregory the Great was not the only Pope who delighted to honour his cat. Richelieu and Mazarin were not the only Cardinals who cultivated the companionship of kittens. The Abbé Galiani was not the only ecclesiastic who had a passion for the race, though few others manifested it in so strenuous a manner. Losing one of his pets through the negligence of a servant, the inconsolable Abbé marked the severity of his displeasure
