Divine Inspiration, describing the papal apostacy, gives various striking particulars, illustrations of which are given variously in the foregoing history. Among those shocking practices, the Holy Spirit declares that its ministers “speak lies in hypocrisy; having their conscience seared with a hot iron; forbidding to marry.”—1 Tim. iv. 2, 3.

Every one acquainted with the manners of the people in popish countries is aware of the prevalence of impurity, even among the priests. It is too notorious to be denied. All classes, from the popes downward, are known to be guilty. Many papal bulls have condemned unchastity, with characteristic hypocrisy, which may be illustrated by a single fact. Pope Pius IV., A.D. 1561, issued a bull, directed to the Inquisition, the commencement of which is as follows:—“Whereas certain ecclesiastics in the kingdom of Spain, and in the cities and dioceses thereof, having the cure of souls, or exercising such cure for others, or otherwise deputed to hear the confessions of penitents, have broken out into such heinous acts of iniquity as to abuse the sacrament of penance in the very act of hearing the confessions, nor fearing to injure the same sacrament, and Him who instituted it, our Lord God and Saviour Jesus Christ, by enticing and provoking, or trying to entice and provoke females to lewd actions, at the very time when they were making their confessions,” &c., &c.

Upon the publication of this bull in Spain, the Inquisition issued an edict requiring all females, who had been thus abused by the priests at the confessional, and all who were privy to such acts, to give information, within thirty days, to the holy tribunal; and very heavy censures were attached to those who should neglect or despise this injunction. When this edict was first published, as Catholic authors of credit state, such a considerable number of females went to the palace of the Inquisition, in the single city of Seville, to reveal the conduct of their base confessors, that twenty notaries, and as many inquisitors, were appointed to minute down their several informations against them; but these being found insufficient to receive the depositions of so many witnesses, and the inquisitors being thus overwhelmed, as it were, with the pressure of such affairs, thirty days more were allowed for taking the accusations; and this lapse of time also proving inadequate for the intended purpose, a similar period was granted for a third and a fourth time. Maids and matrons of every rank and station, dreading the excommunication, crowded to the Inquisition. Modesty, shame, and the desire of concealing the facts from their husbands, induced many to go veiled. But the multitudes of depositions, and the odium which the discovery drew on auricular confession and on the priesthood, caused the Inquisition to quash the prosecutions, and to consign the depositions to oblivion!

From the enormous hypocrisy and unparalleled cruelty that we have seen recorded of the inquisitors, every one will be prepared to believe that they must have been guilty of the most atrocious personal immoralities. Many of them were priests; and the celibacy of the clergy, as enjoined by the Romish religion, was the occasion of the most shocking violations of the laws of God. These crimes are testified by papal historians of the highest character, and proved by laws of the popes made against them; but the records of the lives of the priests exhibit the most disgusting and dreadful crimes.

Elevation in office generally rendered the inquisitors above all law; and the peculiarity of their stations shielded them from accusation, rendering it dangerous in the extreme for any one to breathe a whisper against them. They, therefore, commonly rolled in luxury, and indulged in licentiousness that would appear incredible, were it not for their other enormities and abominations recorded on the faithful pages of history.

The translator of Limborch’s history remarks, therefore:—“The licentious character so largely applied to the Romish clergy has not been wanting in those deputed to the office of inquisitors. Whilst by the very constitution of their authority they are placed in a great degree above the laws, they possess, in addition to their ecclesiastical revenues, opportunities of amassing enormous wealth from the wreck of those whom they condemn; and, besides, such unbounded power as to command any object of desire, or to gratify any purpose of revenge. With such temptations, therefore, it is no wonder if the inquisitor should become voluptuous, and that, possessing the authority, he should assume the vices of the oriental monarchs.” M. Lavallée, in his “Histoire des Inquisitions Religieuses,” relates the following circumstance:—

“A gentleman, who was then (1809) residing at Paris, having business in Lisbon some years before the French revolution, and being about to go thither, took with him, from a nobleman at Versailles, a letter to the chief-inquisitor at Madrid, through which he passed. On his arrival in that city, being fatigued, and at the same time unwilling to impede his journey, he fulfilled the ceremony of delivering the letter to the inquisitor by the hands of his servant, excusing himself, on those grounds, from doing himself the honour of a personal attendance. The grand-inquisitor, however, came himself to his hotel, and, with great politeness, prevailed on him to spend the evening at his residence. The gentleman repaired to his apartment, and was lost in astonishment at the splendour of the saloons, furniture, and attendants. After some noblemen who were present had withdrawn, the inquisitor offered his guest a sight of his bed-chamber; this surpassed anything that he had ever seen for sumptuous elegance. The walls were hung with most exquisite paintings, from the heathen mythology; the floor of the finest marble, and so constructed as to admit the growth of orange trees, and a crystal stream, which, imparting a delicious coolness, rolled off through basons of porphyry, in subterranean channels, whilst the bed was adorned with such tasteful drapery as to give to the whole the air of royalty. As soon as the visitor had inspected with admiration the various embellishments of this splendid retreat, which he was the more surprised to find where he had rather expected to have seen the rigid tokens of inquisitorial devotion, he prepared to withdraw. But the inquisitor prevented him, expressing surprise that he should so soon appear fatigued; then making a signal, a Dominican appeared (his confidential minister), who conducted the traveller into a splendid saloon, lighted by a profusion of wax candles; here a magnificent supper was prepared, to which sat down the grand-inquisitor, his visitor, six ladies of great beauty and accomplishments, and some monks, who were peculiar favourites. The evening was spent with the greatest gaiety, whilst music, poetry, singing, and agreeable conversation protracted the stay of the company until sunrise. At length the traveller took his leave, greatly pleased with the courtesy of his highness, and admiring the method of relaxation he had chosen, after the studies and fatigue devolving on him from the Holy Office!”

Rev. D. A. Gavin, a Spanish priest, but, since 1715, a clergyman in the Church of England, in his “Master-Key to Popery,” vol. i., p. 192-205, gives the following account by a lady, daughter of Counsellor Balabriga, of Saragossa. She had been seized by the familiars of the Holy Office, and confined there, with others, as a victim of the abominable licentiousness of the inquisitors; but delivered from her degradation by the French army, when part of the troops were quartered at Saragossa, after the great battle of Almanza, in 1706. M. de Legal, the lieutenant-general, having been excommunicated by the inquisitors, on account of his making an assessment upon them for the support of his troops, sent four regiments of soldiers to eject the inquisitors, and release the prisoners. Among these, amounting to about four hundred, he found sixty young women, who had formed the seraglios of the three inquisitors. On learning this event, the Archbishop of Saragossa, fearing the disgrace that would arise from the discovery of such atrocious wickedness, desired the general to send the young women to his palace, that he might take care of them. But M. de Legal replied, that he would gladly oblige his grace, but that it was not in his power, for the ladies were taken care of by the French officers. One of these ladies, whose family was known to Gavin, being married by a French officer, her deliverer, gave her history to her friend, some time after, when he met her in his travels in France.

“I went one day,” said this lady, “with my mother, to visit the Countess of Attaress, and I met there Don Francisco Torrejon, her confessor, and second inquisitor of the Holy Office. After we had drunk chocolate he asked me my age, and my confessor’s name, and so many intricate questions about religion that I could not answer him. His serious countenance did frighten me; and, as he perceived my fear, he desired the countess to tell me that he was not so severe as I took him to be; after which he caressed me in the most obliging manner in the world, gave me his hand, which I kissed with great respect and modesty; and when he went away, he told me, ‘My dear child, I shall remember you till the next time.’ I did not mind the sense of the words, for I was inexperienced in matters of gallantry, being only fifteen years old at that time. Indeed, he did remember me; for the very night following, when we were in bed, hearing a hard knocking at the door, the maid that lay in the same room where my bed was, went to the window, and asking, ‘Who is there?’ I heard say, ‘The Holy Inquisition!’

“I could not forbear crying out, ‘Father! father! I am ruined for ever!’ My dear father got up, and inquiring what the matter was, I answered him, with tears, ‘The Inquisition!’ and he, for fear that the maid should not open the door so quick as such a case required, went himself, as another Abraham, to open the door, and to offer his dear daughter to the fire of the inquisitors; and as I did not cease to cry out, as if I was a mad girl, my dear father, all in tears, did put in my mouth a bridle, to show his obedience to the Holy Office, and his zeal for the Catholic faith; for he thought I had committed some crime against religion. So the officers, giving me but time to put on my petticoat and a mantle, took me down into a coach, and, without giving me the satisfaction of embracing my dear father and mother, they carried me into the Inquisition. I did expect to die that very night; but when they carried me into a noble room, well furnished, and an excellent bed in it, I was quite surprised. The officers left me there, and immediately a maid came with a silver salver of sweetmeats and cinnamon-water, desiring me to take some refreshment before I went to bed. I told her I could not, but that I should be obliged to her if she would tell me whether I was to die that night or not? ‘Die!’ said she, ‘you did not come here to die, but to live like a princess; and you shall want nothing in the world but the liberty of going out. And now, pray mind nothing, but go to bed and sleep easy, for to-morrow you shall see wonders in this house; and, as I am chosen to be your waiting-maid, I hope you will be very kind to me. I have not leave to tell you anything else till to-morrow, only that nobody shall come to disturb you, for my bed is in the closet near your bed.’

“The great amazement that I was in took away all my senses, or the free exercise of them; for I had not liberty to think of my parents, nor of my grief, nor of the danger that was so near me. So, in this suspension of thought, the waiting-maid came, and locked the chamber-door after her, and told me, ‘Madam, let us go to bed, and only tell me at what time in the morning will you have the chocolate ready?’ ‘Mary! for heaven’s sake,’ said I, as she had told me her name, ‘tell me whether I am to die or not.’ ‘I told you, madam, that you come,’ said she, ‘to live as one of the happiest creatures in the world.’ And as I observed her reservedness, I did not ask her any more questions; so recommending myself to God Almighty, and to our Lady of the Pillar, and preparing myself to die, I went to bed, but could not sleep. I was up with the day, but Mary slept till six of the clock. She left me half an hour alone, and came back with a silver plate, with two cups of chocolate and some biscuits. I drank one cup and desired her to drink the other. ‘Well, Mary,’ said I, ‘can you give me any account of the reason of my being here?’ ‘Not yet, madam,’ said she, ‘but only have patience for a little while.’ With this answer she left me, and an hour after came again with two baskets, with a fine Holland shift, a Holland under-petticoat, with fine lace round about it; two silk petticoats, and a little Spanish waistcoat with a gold fringe all over it; with combs and ribbons, and everything suitable to a lady of higher quality than I. But my greatest surprise was to see a gold snuff-box, with the picture of Don Francisco Torrejon on it. Then I soon understood the meaning of my confinement. So I considered with myself that to refuse the present would be the occasion of my immediate death, and to accept of it was to give him, even on the first day, too great encouragement against my honour. But I found, as I thought then, a medium in the case; so I said, ‘Mary, pray give my service to Don Francisco Torrejon, and tell him that, as I could not bring my clothes with me last night, honesty permits me to accept of these clothes, which are necessary to keep me decent; but, since I take no snuff, I beg his lordship to excuse me if I do not accept this box.’ Mary went to him with this answer, and came again with a picture nicely set in gold, with four diamonds at the four corners of it, and told me that his lordship was mistaken, and that he desired me to accept that picture, which would be a great favour to him; and while I was thinking with myself what to do, Mary said to me, ‘Pray, madam, take my poor advice; accept the picture, and everything that he sends to you; for consider, that if you do not consent and comply with everything he has a mind for, you will soon be put to death, and nobody will defend you; but if you are obliging and kind to him, he is a very complaisant and agreeable gentleman, and will be a charming lover; and you will be here like a queen, and he will give you another apartment with a fine garden, and many young ladies shall come to visit you. So I advise you to send a civil answer to him, and desire a visit from him, or else you will soon begin to repent yourself.’ ‘O dear me!’ said I, ‘must I abandon my honour without any remedy? If I oppose his desire, he will obtain it by force;’ and, full of confusion, I bid Mary to give him what answer she thought fit. She was very glad of my humble submission, and went to give Don Francisco my answer. She came back, in a few minutes after, all overjoyed to tell me that his lordship would honour me with his company at supper, and that he could not come sooner on account of business that called him abroad; but, in the meantime, he desired me to divert myself, and to give Mary my measure for a suit of new clothes, and order her to bring me everything that I could wish for. Mary added to this, ‘Madam, I may now call you my mistress; and must tell you, that I have been in the Holy Office these fourteen years, and I know the customs of it very well; but because silence is imposed upon me under pain of death, I cannot tell you anything but what concerns your person. So, in the first place, do not oppose the holy father’s will and pleasure; secondly, if you see some young ladies here, never ask them the occasion of their being here, nor anything of their business; neither will they ask you anything of this nature; and take care not to tell them anything of your being here. You may come and divert yourself with them, at such hours as are appointed; you shall have music and all sorts of recreations. Three days hence you shall dine with them; they are all ladies of quality, young and merry, and this is the best of lives. You will not long for going abroad, you will be so well diverted at home; and when your time is expired, then the holy fathers will marry you to some nobleman. Never mention the name of Don Francisco, nor your name, to any one. If you see here some young ladies of your acquaintance in the city, they will never take notice of your formerly knowing each other, though they will talk with you of indifferent matters; so take care not to speak anything of your family.’

“All these things together stupified me, and the whole seemed to me a piece of enchantment; so that I could not imagine what to think of it. With this lesson she left me, telling me she was going to order my dinner; and every time she went out she locked the door after her. There were but two high windows in my chamber, and I could see nothing through them; but, examining the room all over, I found a closet with all sorts of historical and profane books. So I spent my time till the dinner came in, reading some diverting amorous stories, which was a great satisfaction to me. Mary came with the things for the table, but I was inclined to sleep; so she asked me when she should wake me, and I proposed two hours. My sleep was a great refreshment to me; and at the time fixed she waked me to dinner, which consisted of every thing that could satisfy the nicest appetite. After dinner she left me alone, directing me to ring the bell to call her, if I needed anything; so I went again to my closet, and spent three hours in reading. I really think I was under some enchantment; for I was in a perfect suspension of thought, so as to remember neither father nor mother; and what was most in my mind I do not know. Mary, at length, came and told me that Don Francisco was come home, and she thought he would come to see me very soon; and begged of me to prepare myself to receive him with all manner of kindness. At seven in the evening Don Francisco came in his night-gown and night-cap, not with the gravity of an inquisitor, but with the gaiety of an officer. He saluted me with great respect and civility, and told me he had designed to keep me company at supper, but could not that night, having some business of consequence to finish in his closet; and that his coming to see me was only out of the respect he had for my family, and to tell me, at the same time, that some of my lovers had procured my ruin for me, accusing me in matters of religion; that the informations were taken, and the sentence pronounced against me was, to be burnt alive in the dry-pan with a gradual fire; but that he, out of pity and love to my family, had stopped the execution of it. Each of these words was a mortal stroke on my heart, and knowing not what I was doing, I threw myself at his feet, and said, ‘Seignior, have you stopped the execution for ever?’ ‘That belongs only to you to stop it or not,’ said he; and with this he wished me a good night. As soon as he went away, I fell a crying; but Mary came and asked me what could oblige me to cry so bitterly. ‘Ah! good Mary,’ said I, ‘pray tell me what is the meaning of the dry-pan, and gradual fire? for I am in expectation of nothing but death, and that by it.’ ‘O! madam, never fear, you will see the dry-pan and gradual fire another day; but they are made for those that oppose the holy fathers’ will, but not for you that are so ready to obey them. But pray, was Don Francisco very civil and obliging?’ ‘I do not know,’ said I, ‘for his discourse has put me out of my wits; this I know, that he saluted me with respect and civility, but he left me very abruptly.’ ‘Well,’ said Mary, ‘you do not know his temper; he is the most obliging man in the world, if people are civil with him; and if not, he is as unmerciful as Nero. And so, for your preservation, take care to oblige him in all respects. Now pray go to supper, and be easy.’

“I was so much troubled in mind with the thoughts of the dry-pan and gradual fire, that I could neither eat nor sleep that night. Early in the morning, Mary got up, and told me that nobody was yet up in the house, and that she would show me the dry-pan and gradual fire, on condition that I should keep it a secret for her sake, and my own too, which I having promised her, she took me along with her, and showed me a dark room with a thick iron door, and within it an oven and a large brass pan upon it, with a cover of the same, and a lock on it—the oven was burning at that time, and I asked Mary for what use that pan was there? And she, without giving me any answer, took me by the hand out of that place, and carried me into a large room, where she showed me a thick wheel, covered on both sides with thick boards, and opening a little window in the centre of it, desired me to look with a candle on the inside of it, where I saw all the circumference of the wheel set with sharp razors. After that, she showed me a pit full of serpents and toads. Then she said to me, ‘Now, my good mistress, I will tell you the use of these three things. The dry-pan and gradual fire are for heretics, and those that oppose the holy fathers’ will and pleasure; for they are put all naked and alive into the pan, and the cover of it being locked up, the executioner begins to put in the oven a small fire, and by degrees he augments it, till the body is reduced to ashes! The second is designed for those who speak against the pope and the holy fathers; for they are put within the wheel, and the little door being locked, the executioner turns the wheel till the person is dead. And the third is for those who condemn the images, and refuse to give the due respect and veneration to ecclesiastical persons; for they are thrown into the pit, and they at once become the food of serpents and toads!’

“Then Mary said to me that another day she would show me the torments for public sinners and transgressors of the five commandments of our holy mother the church; so I, in deep amazement, desired her to show me no more places; for the very thoughts of those three which I had seen were enough to terrify me to the heart. So we went to my room, and she charged me again to be very obedient to all the commands Don Francisco should give me, or to be assured, if I did not, that I was to undergo the torment of the dry-pan. Indeed, I conceived such a horror of the gradual fire, that I was not mistress of my senses, nay, nor of my thoughts. So I told Mary that I would follow her advice, and grant Don Francisco everything he would desire of me. ‘If you are in that disposition,’ said she, ‘leave off all your fears and apprehensions, and expect nothing but pleasure and satisfaction, and all manner of recreation; and you shall begin to experience some of these things this very day. Now let me dress you, for you must go and wish a good-morrow to Don Francisco, and breakfast with him.’ I really thought this was a great honour to me, and some comfort to my troubled mind; so I made all the haste I could, and Mary conveyed me through a gallery into Don Francisco’s apartment. He was still in bed, however, and desiring me to sit down by him, told Mary to bring the chocolate two hours after; and with this she left me alone with Don Francisco, who immediately ardently declaring his inclinations, I had not the liberty to make any excuse, and so, by extinguishing the fire of his passion, I was freed from the gradual fire and dry-pan, which was all that then troubled my mind. When Mary came with the chocolate, kneeling by the bed, she paid me homage as if I had been a queen, and served me first with a cup of chocolate, still on her knees, and bade me to give another cup to Don Francisco myself, which he received mighty graciously. Having drunk up the chocolate, she went out, and we discoursed for a while of various things, but I never spoke a word except when he desired me to answer him. So, at ten of the clock, Mary came again, and dressing me, she desired me to go along with her; and leaving Don Francisco in bed, she carried me into another chamber, very delightful, and better furnished than the first, for the windows of it were lower, and I had the pleasure of seeing the river and gardens on the other side out of it. Then Mary told me, ‘Madam, the young ladies of this house will come before dinner to welcome you, and make themselves happy in the honour of your company, and will take you to dine with them. Pray remember the advice I have given you already, and do not make yourself unhappy by asking useless questions.’ She had not finished these words, when I saw entering my apartments—which consisted of a large anti-chamber, and a bed-chamber with two large closets—a troop of young, beautiful ladies, finely dressed, who all, one after another, came to embrace me, and to wish me joy. My senses were in a perfect suspension, and I could not speak a word, nor answer to their kind compliments. But one of them, seeing me so silent, said to me, ‘Madam, the solitude of this place will affect you in the beginning; but when you are sometime in our company, and feel the pleasures of our amusements and recreations, you will quit your pensive thoughts. Now we beg of you the honour to come and dine with us to-day, and henceforth three days in a week.’ I thanked them, and we went to dinner. That day we had all sorts of exquisite meats, and were served with delicate fruits and sweetmeats. The room was very long, with two tables on each side, and another at the front of it, and I reckoned in it, on that day, fifty-two young ladies, the oldest of them not exceeding twenty-four years of age. Six maids did serve the whole number of us; but my Mary waited on me alone that day. After dinner, we went up stairs into a long gallery, all round about with lattice windows, where some of us playing on instruments of music, others playing at cards, and some walking about, we spent three hours together. At last, Mary came up ringing a small bell, which was the signal to retire into our rooms, as they told me: but Mary said to the whole company,—‘Ladies, this is a day of recreation; so you may go into what room you please till eight of the clock, and then you are to go into your own chambers.’ So they all desired leave to go with me to my apartment to spend the time there; and I was very glad that they preferred my chamber to another. All going down together, we met in my anti-chamber, where we found a large table with all sorts of sweetmeats upon it, iced cinnamon-water, almond-milk, and the like. Every one did eat and drink, but nobody spoke a word touching the sumptuousness of the table, nor mentioned anything concerning the inquisition of the holy fathers. So we spent our time in merry, indifferent conversation till eight of the clock. Then every one retired to her own room, and Mary told me that Don Francisco did wait for me; so we went to his apartment, and supper being ready, we both alone sat to table, attended by my maid only.

“After supper Mary went away, and we to bed; and next morning she did serve us with chocolate, which we drank in bed, and then slept till ten of the clock. Then we got up, and my waiting-maid carried me into my chamber, where I found ready two suits of clothes of a rich brocade, and every thing else suitable to a lady of the first rank. I put on one, and when I was quite dressed, the young ladies came to wish me a good-morrow, all dressed in different clothes, and better than the day before; and we spent the second and third days in the same recreation, Don Francisco continuing also with me in the same manner. But the fourth morning, after drinking chocolate in bed, as the custom was for Don Francisco and me, Mary told me that a lady was waiting for me, in her own room, and desired me to get up, with an air of command; and Don Francisco saying nothing against it, I got up and left him in bed. I thought really that this was to give me some new comfort and diversion; but I was very much mistaken; for Mary conveyed me into a young lady’s room, not eight feet long, which was a perfect prison, and there, before the lady, told me, ‘Madam, this is your room, and this young lady your bed-fellow and comrade;’ and left me there with this unkind command.

“I was in a most desperate condition; but my new sister, Leonora,—this was her name,—prevailed so much upon me, that I overcame my vexation before Mary came again to bring our dinner. Then she began to say, ‘My dear sister, you think it a hard case that has happened to you; I assure you, all the ladies here in this house have already gone through the same, and in time you shall know all their stories, as they hope to know yours. I suppose that Mary has been the chief instrument of your fright, as she has been of ours; and I warrant she has shown to you some horrible places, though not all, and that, at the very thought of them, you were so much troubled in your mind, that you have chosen the same way that we did, to get some ease in our hearts. By what has happened to us, we know that Don Francisco has been your Nero; for the three colours of our clothes are the distinguishing tokens of the three holy fathers: the red silk belongs to Don Francisco, the blue to Guerrero, and the green to Aliaga. For they give, for the first three days, these colours to those ladies that they bring for their use. We are strictly commanded to make all demonstrations of joy, and to be very merry three days, when a young lady comes here, as we did with you, and you must do with others. But, after it, we live like prisoners, without seeing any living soul but the six maids and Mary, who is the housekeeper. We dine all of us in the hall three days a week, and three days in our rooms. When any of the holy fathers has a mind for one of his slaves, Mary comes for her at nine of the clock, and conveys her to his apartment. If one of us happens to be with child, she is removed into a better chamber, and she sees nobody but the maid, till she is delivered. The child is taken away, and we do not know where it is carried. We are at present fifty-two young ladies, and we lose every year six or eight; but we do not know where they are sent. At the same time we get new ones; and I have sometimes seen here seventy-three ladies. All our continual torment is to think, and with great reason, that when the holy fathers are tired of one, they put her to death; for they never will run the hazard of being discovered in these misdemeanours, by sending out of the house any of our companions.’

“We lived together eighteen months, in which time we lost eleven ladies, and got nineteen new ones. After the eighteen months, one night Mary came and ordered us to follow her. On our going down stairs, she bade us go into a coach, and this we thought the last day of our lives. We went out of the house, but where we did not know, till we were put in another house and room, worse than the first, where we were confined above two months, without seeing any of the holy fathers, or Mary, or any of our companions. And in the same manner we were removed from that house to another, where we continued till we were miraculously delivered by the French officers. Mr. Faulcaut, happily for me, did open the door of my room; and, as soon as he saw me, he began to show me very much civility, and took me and Leonora along with him into his lodgings; and after he heard my whole story, and fearing that things would turn to our disadvantage, he ordered the next day to send us to his father. We were dressed in men’s clothes, to go the more safely; and so we came to this house, where I was kept for two years as the daughter of the old man, till Mr. Faulcaut’s regiment being broken, he came home, and in two months after married me. Another officer married Leonora.”

CHAPTER XX.

ABOLITION OF THE INQUISITION IN SPAIN.

Light and knowledge continued to advance in Europe during the eighteenth century. Every intelligent mind perceived by this means the enormous superstitions and cruelty of the papacy; but these advantages, without the blessed principles of the Scriptures, leaving men ignorant of true Christianity, generated infidelity. The papal priesthood, therefore, by whom the sacred books had been taken from the people, suffered a fearful retribution from the infidels in France, in the revolution at the close of the century. The whole Continent was scourged by this event, in the order of Divine Providence. Still the Inquisition carried on its pernicious operations in several countries, particularly in Spain, though its doom was sealed and its overthrow determined. Its deeds, however, were less shocking; but its modern character may be learned from a few facts.

Concerning the Drama in Spain, Sismondi remarks, that “the Lives of the Saints were represented publicly, with the approbation and applause of the Inquisition, in the eighteenth century. But whilst the taste of the people was so eager for this kind of spectacle, and whilst it was encouraged by the clergy, and supported by the Inquisition, the Court, enlightened by criticism and by a better taste, was desirous of rescuing Spain from the scandalous reproach which these pretended pious representations excited among strangers. Charles III., in 1765, prohibited the further performance of religious plays and autos sacramentales; and the house of Bourbon had already deprived the people of another recreation, not less dear to them—the autos da fé. After the extinction of the Spanish branch of the house of Austria, the Inquisition was no longer allowed to destroy its victims in public; but it has continued, even to our days, to exercise the most outrageous cruelties on them in its dungeons.”

While many wretched beings were sacrificed in private, perishing in the horrid prisons, those who were liberated carried marks of their fearful treatment all through life. Every prisoner, before being dismissed, was bound, under a dreadful curse, to observe the most profound silence as to all that he had seen, and heard, and uttered in the Inquisition. Mr. Townsend relates, that the Dutch consul, with whom he became acquainted during his travels in Spain, in 1787, could never be prevailed on to give an account of his imprisonment in the Inquisition at Barcelona, which happened thirty-five years before, and betrayed the greatest agitation when pressed to say anything about the treatment he had received. His fellow-prisoner, Mr. Falconet, who was but a boy, turned grey-headed during his short confinement; and to the day of his death, though retired to Montpelier, observed the most tenacious silence on the subject.

Inquisitorial domination, however, was at length overthrown by the French Catholic soldiers under Buonaparte. While the troops of France made progress in Spain, in 1807, the Chevalier de St. Gervais, a French officer, was seized and imprisoned by the inquisitors of Barcelona. One day, “after dinner,” he says, “I went to take a walk on that beautiful terrace, which extends along the port in that part called Barcelonette. The sides of this walk, which is named the Longa, are adorned with fine buildings. I was tranquilly enjoying this delightful place, and the serene evening of the fine day, when, suddenly, six men surrounded and commanded me to follow them. I replied by a firm refusal; whereupon one of them seized me by the collar. I instantly assailed him with a violent blow on the face, which caused him to bellow with pain; but in an instant the whole band pressed on me so closely, that I was obliged to draw my sword. I fought as long as I was able; but not being possessed of the strength of Antæus or Hercules, I was at last compelled to yield. The ruffians endeavoured to inspire me with respect and dread, by saying that they were familiars of the Holy Office. I submitted to force, and was taken to the prisons of the Inquisition.

“As soon as I found myself within the talons of these vultures, I began to ask myself what was my crime, and what I had done to incur the censure of this hateful tribunal. ‘Have these Jacobin monks,’ said I, ‘succeeded to the Druids, who called themselves the agents of the Deity, and arrogated to themselves the right of excommunicating and putting to death their fellow-citizens?’ My complaints were lost in empty air.

“On the following day, a Dominican, shrouded in hypocrisy, and with a tongue of deceit, came to conjure me, by the bowels of Jesus Christ, to confess my faults, in order to the attainment of my liberty. ‘Confess your own faults first,’ said I to him; ‘ask pardon of God for your hypocrisy and injustice. By what right do you arrest a gentleman, a native of France, who is exempted from the jurisdiction of your infernal tribunal, and who has done nothing in violation of the laws of this country?’ ‘Oh! holy Virgin!’ said he, ‘you make me tremble! I will go and pray to God in your behalf, and I hope he will open your eyes and turn your heart!’ ‘Go, pray to the devil,’ said I to myself; ‘he is your only divinity.’ However, on that same day, M. Aubert, having in vain waited for me at the dinner-hour, sent to my hotel to inquire about me. The landlord informed him that I had disappeared on the preceding evening; that my luggage still remained in his custody, but that he was entirely ignorant of what had become of me. This obliging gentlemen, uneasy for my fate, made inquiries concerning me over the whole city, but without being able to gain the smallest intelligence. Astonished at this circumstance, he began to suspect that some indiscretion on my part had drawn down upon me the vengeance of the Holy Office. He begged of the captain-general to demand my enlargement. The inquisitors denied the fact of my detention with the utmost effrontery of falsehood; but M. Aubert, not being able to discover any other probable cause for my disappearance, persisted in believing me to be a prisoner in the Holy Office.

“Next day, the familiars came to conduct me before the three inquisitors; they presented me with a yellow mantle to put on, but I disdainfully rejected this Satanic livery. However, they persuaded me that submission was the only means by which I could hope to recover my liberty. I appeared, therefore, clad in yellow, with a waxtaper in my hand, before these three priests of Pluto. In the chamber was displayed the banner of the Holy Office, on which were represented a gridiron, a pair of pincers, and a pile of wood, with these words—‘JUSTICE, CHARITY, MERCY.’ What an atrocious piece of irony! I was tempted more than once to singe, with my blazing taper, the hideous visage of one of these Jacobins, but my good genius prevented me. One of them advised me, with an air of mildness, to confess my sins. ‘My great sin,’ replied I, ‘is to have entered a country where the priests trample humanity under foot, and assume the cloak of religion to persecute virtue and innocence.’ ‘Is that all you have to say?’ ‘Yes, my conscience is free from alarm, and from remorse. Tremble! if the regiment to which I belong should hear of my imprisonment, they would trample over ten regiments of Spaniards to rescue me from your barbarity.’ ‘God alone is master; our duty is to watch over his flock, as faithful shepherds; our hearts are afflicted at it, but you must return to your prison till you think proper to make a confession of your fault.’ I then retired, casting upon my judges a look of contempt and indignation.

“As soon as I returned to my prison, I most anxiously considered what could be the cause of this severe treatment. I was far from suspecting that it could be owing to my answer to the mendicant friar, concerning the Virgin and her lights.” [One of these having come to his chamber, presenting a purse, and begging a contribution for the tapers to be lighted in honour of the Virgin; he replied, “My good father, the Virgin has no need of lights; she needs only to go to bed at an early hour.”] “However, M. Aubert, being persuaded that the Inquisition alone had been the cause of my disappearance, placed spies upon all their steps. One of these informed him that three monks of the Dominican order were about to set out for Rome, being deputed to the conventual assembly, which was to be held there. He immediately wrote to M. de Colet, commandant at Perpignan, to inform him how I had disappeared, of his suspicions as to the cause, and of the passage of the three Jacobins through Perpignan, desiring him to arrest them, and not set them at liberty, till I should be released.

“M. de Colet embraced with alacrity this opportunity of vengeance, and issued orders at the gates of the town to seize the three reverend personages. They arrived about noon, with high spirits and keen appetites, and demanded of the sentinel which was the best hotel. The officer of the guard presented himself, and informed them that he was commissioned to conduct them to the commandant of the place, who would provide for them lodging and entertainment. The monks, rejoiced at this lucky windfall, overflowed with acknowledgments, and declared they could not think of incommoding the commandant. ‘Come, good fathers, M. de Colet is determined to do you the honours of the city.’ In the meantime he provided them an escort of four soldiers and a sergeant. The fathers marched along with joy, congratulating one another, and delighted with the politeness of the French. ‘Good fathers,’ said M. de Colet, ‘I am delighted to have you in this city. I expected you impatiently, and have provided you a lodging.’ ‘Ah, Monsieur Commandant, you are too good; we are undeserving.’ ‘Pardon me; have you not, in your prison at Barcelona, a French officer, the Chevalier de St. Gervais?’ ‘No, M. Commandant, we have never heard of any such person.’ ‘I am sorry for that, for you are to be imprisoned, and to live upon bread and water, until this officer be forthcoming.’ The reverend fathers, exceedingly irritated, exclaimed against this violation of the law of nations, and then said they resigned themselves to the will of heaven, and that the commandant should answer, before God and the Pope, for the persecution which he was about to exercise against members of the church. ‘Yes,’ said the commandant, ‘I take the responsibility upon myself; meanwhile, you will repair to the citadel.’

“Now, behold the three hypocrites, in a narrow prison, condemned to the regimen of the Pauls and the Hilaries, uttering the loudest exclamations against the system of fasting and the commandant. Every day the purveyor, when he brought them their pitcher of water and portion of bread, demanded whether they had anything to declare relative to the French officer. For three days they persisted in replying in the negative; but, at length, the cries, not of their consciences, but of their stomachs, and their weariness of this mode of life, overcame their obstinacy. They begged an interview with M. de Colet, who instantly waited on them. They confessed that a young French officer was confined in the prisons of the Holy Office, on account of the impious language he had held respecting the Virgin. ‘Undoubtedly he has acted improperly,’ said M. de Colet; ‘but allow the Virgin to avenge herself. Write to Barcelona, to set this gentleman at liberty; in the interim I will keep you as hostages, but I will mitigate your sufferings, and your table shall be less frugally supplied.’ The monks immediately wrote to give liberty to the accursed Frenchman.

“During this interval, vexations, impatience, and weariness took possession of my soul, and made me weary of life. At length, the Inquisition, reading their brethren’s letter, perceived themselves under the necessity of releasing their prey. One of them came to inform me that, in consideration of my youth, and of my being a native of France, the Holy Office had come to the determination to set me free; but that they required me for the future to have more respect for La Madonna, the mother of Jesus Christ. ‘Most reverend father,’ replied I, ‘the French have always the highest respect for the ladies.’ Uttering these words, I rushed towards the door, and when I got into the street, I felt as if I were raised from the tomb once more to life!”

Charles IV. abdicated the throne of Spain, and was succeeded by his son, Ferdinand VII., in 1808; but Napoleon Buonaparte soon compelled him to resign his throne, appointing his own brother Joseph to the throne, while he marched to the capital, and took Madrid on the 4th of December. Knowing the horrid character of the Holy Office, the same day he decreed the suppression of the Inquisition, that its revenues might be applied to the purposes of the government.

Pursuant to this decree, the palace of the Inquisition was demolished, some months after, in revenge for an outrage upon Colonel Lehmanowsky, an officer of the French army. His report of it confirms many of the foregoing details of that dreadful place. He states,—

“In the year 1809, I was attached to that part of Napoleon’s army which was stationed at Madrid. Soult was commander-in-chief and governor of the city. My regiment was the 9th Polish Lancers.

“One night, about ten or eleven o’clock, as I was walking alone in one of the streets of Madrid, two armed men sprang upon me from a doorway; I instantly drew my sword, and defended myself as best I could from their furious attack. While struggling with them, I saw at a distance, crossing the top of the street, the lights of the mounted patrols. French soldiers on guard, with lanterns, rode through the streets of the city at all hours of the night to preserve order. I called to them in French, and as they hastened to my help, my assailants took to their heels; not, however, before I saw by their dress that they belonged to the guards of the Inquisition. Having been in the habit of speaking freely among the people what I thought of the priests and Jesuits, and the Inquisition, I have no doubt that these men were set to watch for me, and to assassinate me. It had been decreed by Napoleon that the Inquisition and the monasteries should be suppressed. Months, however, had passed away, without the decree being executed.

“I went that night directly to Marshal Soult, told him what had taken place, and reminded him of the emperor’s decree. He said, I might go the next morning, and destroy the Inquisition; giving me charge, at the same time, to take care of the pictures, library, and other things of value. I replied, that my regiment was not sufficient for such a service, but if he would give me the 117th of the line, and another regiment, which I named, I would undertake the work. The colonel of the 117th, Colonel De Lile, was an intimate friend of my own, and is now the pastor of an evangelical church in France. Marshal Soult gave me the troops required. That night the expedition was arranged, and next morning we proceeded at break of day to the Inquisition, which was about five miles distant from the city.

“A wall of great strength surrounded the buildings. I went forward with a company of soldiers, and addressing one of the sentinels on the wall, summoned those within to surrender, and to open the gates to the imperial army. The man withdrew, and after conversation apparently with someone within, he re-appeared, presented his musket, and shot one of my men. This was a signal of attack, and returning to my troops, who had halted at a distance out of sight, I ordered them to advance, and to fire upon those who appeared on the walls.

“It was soon obvious that it was an unequal warfare. The garrison was numerous, and on the walls there was a strong breastwork, from behind which they kept up a destructive fire upon our men on the open plain. We had no cannon; our scaling ladders were insufficient, the walls being higher than we expected; and the gates resisted all attempts at forcing them. Wishing to get through the work as quietly, as well as quickly, as possible, I directed some trees to be cut down and trimmed, to be used as battering rams. Selecting a place where the ground sloped a little toward the wall, and so gave advantage to my men to cover with their fire those engaged in the assault, two of these battering rams were brought to bear upon the walls. Presently the walls began to tremble; a breach was made, and the imperial troops rushed into the Inquisition.

“Here we met with a scene, for which nothing but jesuitical effrontery is equal. The inquisitor-general, followed by the fathers in their robes, all presented themselves, as we were making our way into the interior of the place, with their arms crossed on their breasts, their fingers resting on their shoulders, as though they had been deaf to all the noise of the attack and defence, and had just learned what was going on. They addressed themselves in the language of rebuke to their own soldiers, saying, ‘Why do you fight our friends the French?’

“Their intention, no doubt, was to make us think that the defence was wholly unauthorised by them, hoping, if they could make us believe that they were friendly, they should have a better opportunity of escaping. Their shallow artifice did not succeed. I ordered them to be placed under guard, and all the soldiers of the Inquisition, who had not escaped in the confusion, to be secured as prisoners.

“We then proceeded to explore the rooms of the stately edifice. We passed through hall after hall, richly furnished; we found splendid paintings; a rich and extensive library; and everywhere beauty, splendour, and order, such as I had never seen in any palace. The architecture, the furniture, the ornaments, were such as pleased the eye and gratified the taste. But where were the gloomy cells and horrid instruments of torture, which one had been taught to expect to find in an Inquisition? We looked for them in vain. The holy fathers seemed surprised at our expecting to find any such things; assured us that they had been belied; and that the holy Catholic church, in this as in other things, was grossly misrepresented.

“Although I saw through the cunning villany of the fathers in these remarks, and knew how the Romish church always affects to deny its crimes and cruelties when it carries them into execution, I was ready to believe, after our careful search, that this Inquisition was different from others of which I had heard. My friend, De Lile, was not, however, so easily convinced. ‘Colonel,’ said he to me, ‘you are commander to-day, and as you say, so it must be; but if you will be advised by me, let us have another search; I do not believe we have seen everything yet. We accordingly again began to explore, especially in the parts under ground. By marking well what portion of the buildings we were beneath, we found that we had been under every part, except the great chapel of the Inquisition, and the buildings adjoining. The floor of this chapel was formed of vast slabs of rich marble. The floors of the other parts of the Inquisition were either of marble or of highly polished wood. We could find no entrance to vaults, or other indication of anything being below the chapel. Being now ready to give up the search, a thought struck Colonel De Lile, who was still sanguine of discovery. ‘Let us get water,’ he said, ‘and pour it over this floor, and see if there is any place where it passes through more freely than others. Water was immediately brought, and a careful examination made of every seam, none of the slabs being cemented, to see if the water passed through. Presently one of the soldiers cried out that he had found it! By the side of one of the marble slabs the water was passing through fast, as though there were an opening beneath. All hands were now set at work for further discovery. The officers with their swords, and the men with their bayonets, were trying to clear out the seam and to raise the slab. Others began to strike the slab, with all their might, with the butts of their muskets, in order to break it. The fathers, who had been looking on with the greatest dismay, now broke out in loud remonstrance against our desecration of their holy and beautiful house. As they were thus engaged, one of the soldiers, who was busy with the butt of his musket, struck a part of the marble under which was a spring, and the slab partly flew up; then the faces of the inquisitors grew pale, and they trembled, as Belshazzar, when the handwriting appeared on the wall. The marble slab being raised, the top of a staircase appeared. I stepped to the altar, and took one of the long candles which was burning, some of my men doing the same, that we might see to explore what was below. One of the inquisitors here came up to me, and laying his hand gently on my arm, said, with a demure and holy look, ‘My son, you must not take those lights with your bloody hands; they are holy.’ ‘Well,’ said I, pushing him back, ‘I will take a holy thing to shed light on iniquity; I will bear the responsibility.’ We proceeded down the staircase.

“On reaching the floor, the first room we entered was a large square hall, on one side of which was a raised platform with seats, the centre one being raised considerably, being the throne of the inquisitor-general. In the centre of the hall was a large block, with a chain fastened to it, where the accused were chained during their examinations.

“On leaving the hall of judgment, we proceeded along a passage with numerous doors. These were the cells of solitary imprisonment, from which the miserable victims were never brought out, except it were for torture. Within some of these cells we heard sounds as we advanced. On opening the doors we witnessed such sights as I wish never to see again, the details of which are too horrible to relate. In some cells we found bodies apparently but a short time dead. Others were in various stages of decay; and we saw some, of which little but the bones remained, still fixed by chains to the floor of the dungeon. To prevent this corruption being offensive to the occupants of the Inquisition, there were flues extending along the roofs of the cells and carrying the odour off to the open air. Among the living prisoners we found aged men and women of threescore years and ten, youths and girls of fourteen or fifteen, and others in the prime of life. Some had been there for many years, and had lost count of the time since they entered. The soldiers went to work to release them from their chains, and took from their knapsacks their over-coats and other clothing to cover their nakedness. They were eager to be taken to the light of day, but having heard of the danger of this, I caused food to be given to them, and then directed them gradually to be brought out to the light as they were able to bear it.

“We then proceeded to explore another room where there were instruments of torture. One of these was a machine, on which the victim was stretched, and every joint of the body, beginning with the fingers, was racked, until the sufferer swooned away or died. Another engine consisted of a box, in which the head and neck were immoveably confined by a screw, and over this box was a vessel, from which, drop by drop, water fell every second upon the head. This perpetual drop, falling on the same spot, caused most excruciating agony—agony, ending, ere long, in raving madness. Another infernal machine lay along horizontally, to which the sufferer was bound, and then was placed between two beams, on which scores of knives were fixed, so that by turning the machine with a crank, the flesh was torn from the limbs in small pieces. A fourth machine surpassed the others in fiendish ingenuity. Its exterior was a beautiful woman, richly dressed, with arms extended to embrace the victim; around her feet a semicircle was drawn. Whoever stepped over this line touched a spring, which caused the diabolical engine to open, and a thousand knives pierced him with deadly force.

“The sight of these engines of infernal cruelty kindled the fury of the soldiers, already enraged with the resistance they met with, and the death of their comrades in assaulting the walls. They declared that they would put their prisoners to the torture. I could not stem their fury. They began with the holy fathers. They put one on the machine for racking the joints. Another was put under the dropping water, and terrible was the agony he seemed to suffer. The inquisitor-general was brought before the machine called ‘The Virgin,’ and commanded to kiss it. ‘You have caused others to kiss it,’ said the soldiers, ‘now you must do it.’ They pointed their bayonets, and pushed him over the fatal circle. The beautiful image instantly prepared for the embrace, clasped him in its arms, and he was cut to pieces. My heart sickened at this awful scene, and I saw no more.

“In the meantime, the report had reached Madrid, that the prisons of the Inquisition were open! Multitudes already were hastening to the place. Fathers there were who found long-lost daughters; mothers their sons; wives were restored to their husbands; sisters and brothers met once more. Some were friendless and unrecognised. The scene of mingled joy, surprise, and anguish, no tongue could describe.

“While this was going on,” said Colonel Lehmanowsky, “I gave orders for the library, paintings, and furniture to be carefully removed, and sent to the city for a large quantity of gunpowder. Placing this in the vaults and subterranean places of the buildings, and a slow match being set, we all withdrew to a distance, and awaited the result in silence. Presently, loud cheers rent the air; the walls and turrets of the massive structure rose majestically towards the heavens, impelled by the tremendous explosion, and fell back to the earth—a vast heap of ruins. The Inquisition was no more!”

Terrible as was this overthrow of the Inquisition at Madrid, it still existed in other cities of Spain; and Mr. Jacobs, travelling in that country, was permitted, in 1809, to view some of the buildings of the Holy Office at Seville. But he was allowed to see only the light, clean, and cheerful apartments, being unable to obtain any reply to his inquiries, whether there were any prisoners in dungeons, or any instruments of torture!

Intelligence continued to advance in Spain, and a reformation seemed determined on; so that, in 1813, the Cortes decreed the abolition of the Inquisition in every part of the country, as pernicious to the interests of the community, and incompatible with the constitution. But Ferdinand being restored to the throne, he entered Madrid, May 14, 1814; and, influenced by the priesthood, issued his proclamation, on the 21st of July, for the re-establishment of the Holy Office. He gave intimation of some alteration in its mode of administration; and Don Francisco Xavier, “the most excellent lord-inquisitor-general,” published his first edict, April 5, 1815. Little improvement was effected in the court; yet it was restrained by being partially under secular authority. In 1820, however, the Cortes finally abolished the Inquisition, and it has never since been restored in Spain.

Blaquire, the historian of the Spanish Revolution, states, in writing from Madrid, in October, 1820,—“If reports which I have heard both here and at Saragossa be true, the torture must have been resorted to in several instances. Amongst the memoranda found on the walls of the Inquisition here, one, after declaring the innocence of the writer, points out his mother as his accuser; another seems to have been traced by a victim upon whom the torture of la pendola had been exercised. This was performed by placing the sufferer in a chair sunk into the earth, and letting water fall on the crown of his head, from a certain height, in single drops. Though far from appearing so, the pendola is supposed to have been the most painful operation practised by the defenders of the faith. In a third inscription, dated on the 11th of November, 1818, the writer complains of having been shut up for a political offence, and in consequence of a false denunciation.”

When the Inquisition was thrown open, in 1820, by order of the Cortes, twenty-one prisoners were found in it, not one of whom knew the name of the city in which he was; some had been confined three years, some a longer period, and not one knew perfectly the nature of the crime of which he was accused. One of these prisoners had been condemned, and was to have suffered on the following day. His punishment was to be death by the pendulum. The method of thus destroying the victim was as follows:—The condemned was fastened in a groove upon a table, on his back; suspended above him was a pendulum, the edge of which was sharp; and it was so constructed as to become longer with every movement. The wretch saw this implement of destruction swinging to and fro above him, and every moment the keen edge approaching nearer and nearer; at length it cut the skin of his nose, and gradually cut on until life was extinct. This, it appears, was one of the substitutes for the more barbarous exhibitions in public, when the inquisitors did not dare to perform an auto da fé. And this, let it be remembered, was one of the modes of punishing those accused of heresy, by the secret tribunal of the Romish Inquisition, A.D. 1820!

Spain still groans under the dreadful domination of popery. Christian liberty is unknown to her people. They are kept by the Romish priesthood in a state of the most debasing ignorance, bound with the chains of a deplorable superstition. They are still held by the gloomy spirit of the Inquisition, though its courts are not in operation; but the more intelligent—and the number of this class, even in Spain, is believed to be increasing—enumerate, with horror, its past victims. The most complete estimate of the wretched sufferers by the “Holy Office” has been made by Jean Antoine Llorente, Secretary of the Inquisition at Madrid, in 1789-1790. In the “Preface” to his valuable “History” of that court, he says, “My perseverance has been crowned with success far beyond my hopes; for, in addition to an abundance of materials, obtained with labour and expense, consisting of unpublished manuscripts and papers mentioned in the inventories of deceased inquisitors and other officers of the institution, in 1809, 1810, and 1811, when the Inquisition in Spain was suppressed, all the archives were placed at my disposal; and, from 1809 to 1812, I collected everything that appeared to me of consequence in the registers of the council of the Inquisition, and in the provincial tribunals, for the purpose of compiling this History.”

Llorente gives the following as the total numbers of the victims, ascertained from the records of the Inquisition in Spain:—

Besides these, however, it is presumed that very many died under torture by the inquisitors, and that large numbers perished in prison, without any record on earth being made of their sufferings or their names. The last person that was publicly burnt by the inquisitors in Spain, is said to have been a Beata; and she was charged with having entered into a compact with the devil: she suffered, November 7th, 1781.

Spain, at present, is proverbial for its degradation, under the blighting intolerance and bigotry of popery. This is testified by intelligent travellers, who represent the debasement of the nation as resulting from the past operations and the remaining spirit of the Romish Inquisition. The testimony of two of these discriminating observers of society may suffice for the present purpose.

Captain Widdrington, R.N., in his volumes on “Spain and the Spaniards,” in 1843, cites from Gibbon, “What has Spain done with the four hundred cities she once possessed?” and replies, “Spain might answer to the pithy question, ‘Ask the church, they can, perhaps, inform you.’ It is not owing to the church,” he adds, “but to the ecclesiastical bodies under that name, whose will was the law for so many ages, that Spain has all but been erased from amongst the nations of the earth. The persecutions of the Jews; the expulsion of the Moriseoes; the locking-up of vast properties in mortmain; and the final establishment of the dreadful tyranny, to consolidate and keep these enormities together, have destroyed the resources of the country, and converted, probably, one-half of the finest part of it into despoblados. These causes, and not the discovery of America, have reduced this first of European kingdoms to the state in which we behold it. Where are the forty towns of Toledo, that have disappeared since the time of Philip II.? Ask the priesthood, for they are the real authors of such destruction. Where are the industrious people that teemed in Andalusia, the very names of whose locations are lost, although they once filled the country along the Guadalquivir, making it one vast garden and continued line of towns and villages? Ask the advisers and directors of the Catholic kings. Who have caused the reduction of Estremadura, nearly the most beautiful region in all Europe, to a vast despoblado? The same authorities. Let the traveller go from Burgos to Valladolid, and thence to Leon, returning by Benevente, or shape his course as he may in that region, he will see everywhere—amid the most fertile land, producing everything to gladden the heart of man—little more than the ruins of decayed villages and towns—the shadows and spectres of former wealth and prosperity; the same heads and hands have produced these fatal consequences—a state of things to which there is, happily, no parallel in Europe!”

Again, this intelligent author remarks:—“There is one very important historical fact to notice, which may help to explain some of the anomalies now daily being manifested. Until this generation, the ruling, consolidating, all-pervading, and all-managing principle of the government was the ecclesiastical power. This was the lever that raised the nation, and kept it up during the war of independence. Now this cause having been removed, as we have seen, rather abruptly—not lowered by gradual progress, but suddenly, and to many, unexpectedly—as yet no counterpoise has been applied to supply the place; so that the people, in the time of public excitement, are like a vessel that has suddenly lost her rudder in an Atlantic gale.”

Mr. Hughes, in his “Revelations in Spain, in 1845,” states the hatred cherished by the Spaniards against the English—though so deeply indebted to our country for having effectually aided them against the French and Napoleon—on account of our being Protestants, of whose religious principles they are profoundly ignorant, through the misrepresentations of their Romish priests; and he remarks, “If there is no Inquisition now-a-days invested with the ancient terrors, the dregs of its spirit survives in enforced religious observances. The regulation enforced by the council of Lateran, which requires every member of the Catholic church to approach the sacraments of confession and communion at Easter time, is sought to be made universally stringent to this day, not by the exploded horrors of excommunication and deprivation of Christian burial, but by minor pains and penalties. A fine is levied from every person who does not perform these religious functions at Easter. The poorer classes throng the churches in crowds during the latter weeks of Lent. The overworked clergy perform their duties in a necessarily brief and perfunctory manner; ten minutes dispose of each loaded conscience, and absolution is pronounced. Perhaps the worst feature of the system is the coercion exercised upon the female population of Spain. No young woman can manage to get married, unless she produce a certain number of tickets from her parish clergyman, attesting her regular approach to the tribunal of penance at stated intervals. There is need of much reformation in these respects; but there are few indications of an apostolical spirit in Spain; few tokens of the energy of good ecclesiastics!”

Testimonies of this kind might be multiplied, from most respectable authors, regarding the condition of Spain, not only declaring the desolation of that beautiful country, but affirming that the superstition and degradation of its people arise from the blind policy, and the intolerant operations of popery.

Spanish priests, educated and disciplined according to the established principles of the Romish court, may well be presumed to be ignorant, in a great degree, that the evils afflicting their country result from their ecclesiastical system. But it can hardly be supposed that all of them are entirely ignorant of the Holy Scriptures, and the national benefits that flow from the acknowledgment of them as the Divine rule of Christianity. Many of them must have become acquainted with the sacred doctrines and holy maxims of the oracles of God; and, therefore, a fearful amount of guilt must attach to the superiors in the priesthood. They must be regarded as responsible to the Almighty for the evils prevailing in their country, and they must merit the severest denunciations uttered against the Scribes and Pharisees, who by their traditions made void the law of God. And while, by their priestcraft and disallowance of the Scriptures, they injure both the temporal and eternal interests of their people, the priests in Spain must incur the righteous displeasure of the Eternal Judge!