But Ekkehard turned the subject, by asking him: "Have you never felt any longing for the quiet and study within the cloister-walls?" At that question the parish-priest's eyes lighted up: "Did Catilina ever feel any longing for the wooden benches of the senate, after they had said to him: _excessit, evasit, erupit_?--Young men, like you cannot understand that. The flesh-pots of Egypt?! _ille terrarum mihi praeter omnes_ ... said the dog to the kennel, in which he had lain seven years." "No, I certainly do not understand you," replied Ekkehard. "What was it, that created such a change in your views," casting a look at the sportsman's implements, which were lying about. "Time," replied the priest, beating his fish on the table to make them tender, "time and growing experience. But this you need not repeat to your Abbot. I also was once such a man as you are now, for Ireland produces pious people, as is well known here. _Eheu_, what a different being I was when I returned with my Uncle Marcus, from our pilgrimage to Rome. You should have seen the young Moengal then! The whole world was not worth a herring to him, whilst psalm-singing, vigils, and spiritual exercises, were his heart's delight. Thus we entered the monastery of St. Gallus--for in honour of a countryman, an honest Hibernian does not mind, going a few miles out of his way,--and finally I stopped there altogether. Outward property, books, money and knowledge,--the whole man became the monastery's own, and the Irish Moengal, was called Marcellus, and threw his uncle's silver and golden coins out of the window; thus to break down the bridge leading back to the world. They were fine times I tell you; praying, fasting and studying, to my heart's content."-- "But then too much sitting is unhealthy, and much knowledge, gives one a quantity of superfluous work to do. Many an evening I have meditated like a book-worm, and disputed like a magpie; for there was nothing which could not be proved. Where the head of St. John the baptist was buried, and in what language the serpent had spoken to Adam,--all was investigated and demonstrated, while such ideas, as that human beings had also received flesh and blood from their Creator, never entered my head. Ohone, confrater, then there came evil hours for me, such as I hope may be spared you. The head grew heavy, and the hands restless. Neither at the writing-desk nor in the church could I find rest or peace;--hence, hence was the inward cry of my heart. I once said to the old Thieto, that I had made a discovery. What discovery, quoth he? That outside the cloister-walls there was fresh air ... Then they forbade me to go out; but many a night did I steal up to the belfry, to look out and envy the bats, that could fly over into the pinewoods ... Confrater, that cannot be cured by fasting and prayer, for that which is in human nature, must come out."