less her widowed parent's sorrow was observed the better; "and she thought you could tell her a great deal about Italy—especially its church—that might be very interesting."
"So I can, my dear child, for I have had much thought of making book myself, expressly on that subject; but I can speak your tongue more good than I will write it; and littel mistake is bad in print book."
"But I can write any thing into good English, you know."
"Then," cried the Count, with animation, "I will reveal to you all the contents of my heart and my brain for twelve long years, as they have been exercised on the most awful, the most noble, the most interesting subject, on which an immortal soul can ponder. I will prove that in the Catholic church exist holiness, purity, devotion, and the elevation of purpose, that never have been or will be excelled, and which, in your church, rarely—perhaps never, equalled. I will shew you men that were angels below; and I will shew you, in the same church, imperious bigots flaming with zeal, destroying the peace of families, loading weak consciences with imaginary crimes, and inflicting penances the most cruel, and, eventually, fatal; interfering with your privacy, extorting money and lands from your property—perhaps inducing or compelling your wretched wife—but I will say no more. In the same church there are angels, so are there devils; in your church there are none
