to a country."

"One thing," said I, "connected with you, I cannot understand; you call
yourself a thorough-going Papist, yet are continually saying the most
pungent things against Popery, and turning to unbounded ridicule those
who show any inclination to embrace it."

"Rome is a very sensible old body," said the man in black, "and little
cares what her children say, provided they do her bidding. She knows
several things, and amongst others, that no servants work so hard and
faithfully as those who curse their masters at every stroke they do. She
was not fool enough to be angry with the Miquelets of Alba, who renounced
her, and called her 'puta' all the time they were cutting the throats of
the Netherlanders. Now, if she allowed her faithful soldiers the
latitude of renouncing her, and calling her 'puta' in the market-place,
think not she is so unreasonable as to object to her faithful priests
occasionally calling her 'puta' in the dingle."

"But," said I, "suppose some one were to tell the world some of the
disorderly things which her priests say in the dingle."

"He would have the fate of Cassandra," said the man in black; "no one
would believe him--yes, the priests would: but they would make no sign of
belief. They believe in the Alcoran des Cordeliers--that is, those who
have read it; but they make no sign."

"A pretty system," said I, "which extinguishes love of country and of
everything noble, and brings the minds of its ministers to a parity with
those of devils, who delight in nothing but mischief."

"The system," said the man in black, "is a grand one, with unbounded
vitality. Compare it with your Protestantism, and you will see the
difference. Popery is ever at work, whilst Protestantism is supine. A
pretty church, indeed, the Protestant! Why, it can't even work a
miracle."

"Can your church work miracles?" I demanded.

"That was the very question," said the man in black, "which the ancient
British clergy asked of Austin Monk, after they had been fools enough to
acknowledge their own inability. 'We don't pretend to work miracles; do
you?' 'Oh! dear me, yes,' said Austin; 'we find no difficulty in the
matter. We can raise the dead, we can make the blind see; and to
convince you, I will give sight to the blind. Here is this blind Saxon,
whom you cannot cure, but on whose eyes I will manifest my power, in
order to show the difference between the true and the false church;' and
forthwith, wi