A thorough-going Papist--and who more thorough-going than myself--cares nothing for his country; and why should he?
he belongs to a system, and not 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.