Such would be a fitting counsellor to one who has studied both in Spain and Arabia! No, Catharine, I will choose a confessor that is pleasant to look upon, and you shall be honoured with the office.

Now, look yonder at his valiancie, his eyebrow drops with moisture, his lip trembles with agony; for his valiancie--he! he! he!--is pleading for his life with his late domestics, and has not eloquence enough to persuade them to let him slip.

See how the fibres of his face work as he implores the ungrateful brutes, whom he has heaped with obligations, to permit him to get such a start for his life as the hare has from the greyhounds when men course her fairly.

Look also at the sullen, downcast, dogged faces with which, fluctuating between fear and shame, the domestic traitors deny their lord this poor chance for his life.

These things thought themselves the superior of a man like me! and you, foolish wench, think so meanly of your Deity as to suppose wretches like them are the work of Omnipotence!" "No! man of evil--no!" said Catharine, warmly; "the God I worship created these men with the attributes to know and adore Him, to guard and defend their fellow creatures, to practise holiness and virtue.
Their own vices, and the temptations of the Evil One, have made them such as they now are.