China oil paintings

'Distrust it, sir; it is not a true angel.'
'Once more, how do you know? By what instinct do you pretend to
distinguish between a fallen seraph of the abyss and a messenger
from the eternal throne- between a guide and a seducer?'
'I judged by your countenance, sir, which was troubled when you
said the suggestion had returned upon you. I feel sure it will work
you more misery if you listen to it.'
'Not at all- it bears the most gracious message in the world: for
the rest, you are not my conscience-keeper, so don't make yourself
uneasy. Here, come in, bonny wanderer!'
He said this as if he spoke to a vision, viewless to any eye but
his own; then, folding his arms, which he had half extended, on his
chest, he seemed to enclose in their embrace the invisible being.
'Now,' he continued, again addressing me, 'I have received the
pilgrim- a disguised deity, as I verily believe. Already it has done
me good: my heart was a sort of charnel; it will now be a shrine.'
'To speak truth, sir, I don't understand you at all: I cannot
keep up the conversation, because it has got out of my depth. Only one
thing, I know: you said you were not as good as you should like to be,
and that you regretted your own imperfection;- one thing I can
comprehend: you intimated that to have a sullied memory was a