"You must not imagine," said I, "that all Protestants are supine;
some of them appear to be filled with unbounded zeal. They deal,
it is true, not in lying miracles, but they propagate God's Word.
I remember only a few months ago, having occasion for a Bible,
going to an establishment, the object of which was to send Bibles
all over the world. The supporters of that establishment could
have no self-interested views; for I was supplied by them with a
noble-sized Bible at a price so small as to preclude the idea that
it could bring any profit to the vendors."

The countenance of the man in black slightly fell. "I know the
people to whom you allude," said he; "indeed, unknown to them, I
have frequently been to see them, and observed their ways. I tell
you frankly that there is not a set of people in this kingdom who
have caused our church so much trouble and uneasiness. I should
rather say that they alone cause us any; for as for the rest, what
with their drowsiness, their plethora, their folly and their
vanity, they are doing us anything but mischief. These fellows are
a pestilent set of heretics, whom we would gladly see burnt; they
are, with the most untiring perseverance, and in spite of divers
minatory declarations of the holy father, scattering their books
abroad through all Europe, and have caused many people in Catholic
countries to think that hitherto their priesthood have endeavoured,
as much as possible, to keep them blinded. There is one fellow
amongst them for whom we entertain a particular aversion; a big,
burly parson, with the face of a lion, the voice of a buffalo, and
a fist like a sledge-hammer. The last time I was there, I observed
that his eye was upon me, and I did not like the glance he gave me
at all; I observed him clench his fist, and I took my departure as