Next to the servant's hall of a great English family, the first place
in the world for completing the education of a macaw of genius, is a
convent. Its idleness and ennui render a monkey, or a parrot, a valuable
resource; and between what I picked up, and what I was taught by the
monks of the Propaganda, my acquirements soon became stupendous. Always
following my kind master from the refectory to the church, assisting at
mess or at mass, being near him in the seclusion of the oratory, and in
the festivities, he frequently held with his more confidential friends;
I had loaded my astonishing memory with scraps of theology and of fun.
I could sing a French drinking song, taught me by the sub-prior Frere
Jacques, and intonate a "Gloria in Excelsis" with a true nasal twang.
I had actually learned the Creed in English;[3] and could call all the
brothers by their name. I had even learned the Savoyard's dance from
my friend Frere Jacques, and sung "Gai Coco" at the same time, like
Scaliger's parrot, from whose history Frere Jacques took the idea
of teaching me. I did this, it must be acknowledged, with great
awkwardness, turning in my toes, and often tumbling backwards in a
clumsy and ludicrous way.
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