There was little that Oates could hope from a career as an English parson. Almost any other calling, especially one that took him abroad, offered better chances. He probably believed that Jesuit emissaries led a merry life and a licentious. Perhaps it is true that, as he said, vague talk in the Duke of Norfolk’s household of the glorious future for Catholicism had come to his ears. At least the times must make him credulous of Catholic machinations. To his sanguine mind the future would present unbounded possibilities. On the other side, stout recruits for the Catholic cause were not to be despised. Oates’ character was tough, and he was not the man to shrink from dirty work. Had they known him well, his new patrons would hardly have welcomed him as a convert. The plausible humility he aired was the outcome of a discretion which rarely lasted longer than to save him from starvation. By nature he was a bully, brutal, sensual, avaricious, and gifted with a greed of adulation which, in a man of less impudence, would have caused his speedy ruin. From earliest youth he was a liar. Yet he was shrewd enough, and shrewdness and promptitude were qualities not without a certain value. His vices had not yet grown to be notorious. So he was taken to serve masters who generally succeeded in giving their pupils at least the outward stamp of piety. In person Oates was hideous. His body was short, his shoulders broad. He was bull-necked and bow-legged. Under a low forehead his eyes were set small and deep. His countenance was large and moon-like. So monstrous was his length of chin that the wide slit mouth seemed almost to bisect his purple face. His voice rasped inharmoniously, and he could tune it at will to the true Puritan whine or to scold on terms with such a master of abuse as Jeffreys. The pen of Dryden has drawn a matchless portrait of the man— Sunk were his eyes, his voice was harsh and loud, Sure signs he neither choleric was nor proud: His long chin proved his wit, his saint-like grace A church vermilion and a Moses’ face.[8] This was the tender being whom the Colegio de los Ingleses took to nurse into a Jesuit. The project failed of its mark. Five short months completed Oates’ stay amid the new surroundings. On October 30, 1677 he was expelled the college and shipped home, reaching London in November.[9] The sojourn was in after days utilised to elevate him to the dignity of doctor of divinity. He had obtained the degree at Salamanca, he said. The truth was more accurately expressed in the lines— The spirit caught him up, the Lord knows where, And gave him his Rabbinical degree Unknown to foreign university;[10]