"The writings of that man have made them greater fools than they were before.

All their conversation now is about gallant knights, princesses, and cavaliers, with which his pages are stuffed--all of whom were Papists, or very high Church, which is nearly the same thing; and they are beginning to think that the religion of such nice sweet-scented gentry must be something very superfine.

Why, I know at Birmingham the daughter of an ironmonger, who screeches to the piano the Lady of the Lake's hymn to the Virgin Mary, always weeps when Mary Queen of Scots is mentioned, and fasts on the anniversary of the death of that very wise martyr, Charles the First.
Why, I would engage to convert such an idiot to popery in a week, were it worth my trouble.

O Cavaliere Gualtiero, avete fatto molto in favore della Santa Sede!" "If he has," said I, "he has done it unwittingly; I never heard before that he was a favourer of the popish delusion." "Only in theory," said the man in black.

"Trust any of the clan MacSycophant for interfering openly and boldly in favour of any cause on which the sun does not shine benignantly.