FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[2]A complete account of my conference with Dr. Theiner will form the subject of a future work.[3]Rev. xviii. 4.[4]Rev. xviii. 6-9.

[2]A complete account of my conference with Dr. Theiner will form the subject of a future work.

[2]A complete account of my conference with Dr. Theiner will form the subject of a future work.

[3]Rev. xviii. 4.

[3]Rev. xviii. 4.

[4]Rev. xviii. 6-9.

[4]Rev. xviii. 6-9.

MY CREED.

Thefirst time that I was laid hold of by the Inquisition, I blamed myself for not disclosing more fully what my belief was at that period. Already for several years, I had received the doctrines of the Bible: I had become a theologian of the true primitive Church. I cannot, however, say that as yet I was a firm believer, since I had not abiding in me the spirit of the Gospel of Christ; which is neither the fruit of our reading, nor the work of our own intellect, but is given us immediately from God. I was a Christian in mind, but not in heart. If Christianity, as some suppose, were a mere opinion, a belief, it would suffice, in order to become a Christian, to admit the truth of the Scriptures. The absurdity of which is manifest, from the consideration that, in this case, the first Christian would have been no other than the devil, since he was the first to acknowledge the truth of Christianity. I understood and acknowledged the truth, although I was not yet fully actuated by it; I possessed the understanding of faith, but not faith itself; I could instruct others in its precepts, but was not myself capable of obeying them. This, I apprehend, was a state necessary for me to undergo, preparatory to the great change—as the state of the chrysalis is essential to the production of the butterfly. I stood midway between the old and the new man: the old man was already buried, but the new man had not yet come to life.

What, then, would have been my profession of faith, at this period? That of a theologian, who draws his argumentsfrom the Bible; that of a man who, aware not only of the errors of others, but of his own also, renounces, condemns, and endeavours to get rid of them, by every possible means. This profession of faith I had not yet publicly avowed, but in many ways it might have been surmised; and putting together the various opinions I had already made known, it was not difficult to form a pretty correct idea as to the whole of my religious persuasions. I by no means wanted the courage—I wanted only a fitting opportunity to declare myself.

Every action, to be well performed, ought to be done in its proper time and place. The true reason, therefore, why I had not avowed my full sentiments was, that a fitting opportunity had not yet presented itself.

But Rome was not ignorant of my real opinions. Surrounded as I was with spies, although leading a private life in Naples, separated from the Dominicans, apart from society, and buried among my books, the Papal Court still found no difficulty in becoming acquainted with my state of mind, and was displeased thereat; and since there appeared but little hope that I should retrace my steps, it would have been very glad had I, at that time, come so far forward as to afford a pretence for my apprehension.

The Inquisition, ever since the year 1833, had been endeavouring, by means of its emissaries, to discover in my conduct some ground for accusation. But either through want of ability, or from not being so malicious as it required, they brought nothing against me that the Holy Office could take hold of. Their accusations, as far as I could learn, were vague, uncertain, and frequently contradictory. Among my accusers were two cardinals. One of them stated that during all the time I had lived with him, (I think it was during Lent, in 1835,) although he had studied my character with great attention, he never could make me out satisfactorily; that he had listened to above forty of my sermons, and never found in them a single expression to which hecould object;—but that in my private conversation he had often detected much bitterness against the Court of Rome, and, in many points, direct opposition to the Council of Trent; and that, although not himself altogether a disciple of Bellarmine, he felt shocked at the severity of my attacks upon that celebrated writer: neither, he continued, did I spare the other two historians and annalists of the Church of Rome, Orsi and Baronio; that I spoke highly of Fra Paolo Sarpi to Cardinal Pallavicino; that I ridiculed the sanctity of Gregory VII., and went so far as to say that it would be well to take the opinion of the Countess Matilda on that point. The other cardinal who accused me, expressed himself as follows:—

"I have nothing to say against Father Achilli myself, but my vicar has told me that he is unstable in his faith. I think him a dangerous character: it would be best to make a friend of him, by kind treatment. I see no middle path; we must either make him a bishop, or shut him up in the Inquisition."

This worthy cardinal was generally considered to be rather deficient in judgment. I am of a contrary opinion. Indeed, when I read his letter, among other documents respecting my cause in the Inquisition, I judged him to be more crafty than many of his brethren.[5]

Among other accusations brought against me, there was one written by two Dominicans, who had formerly been my pupils in theology; and these friars deposed that I manifested a continual spirit of opposition to many of the doctrines of the Church of Rome, and that they entertained but little doubt that I should shortly renounce it altogether,—which, indeed, I had already done. I was also accused, by them, ofpaying no respect to authority. Another Dominican asserted that I did not believe in the power of the keys to absolve the penitent; and that I explained in a perfectly new manner the words of Christ addressed to Peter: "And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven," &c.;[6]that my explanation, he continued, was as follows:—"I will give unto thee," signifies a promise that Jesus Christ makes to Peter, and not a power which he confers upon him, as the Church of Rome asserts. "The keys" signify knowledge, whereby we unlock and arrive at the mysteries of science, &c. "Of the kingdom of heaven," signifies of my church upon earth; on which account we say in our prayers, "Thy kingdom come." Thus, "I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven," means, I promise to give unto thee the knowledge of my church; that is to say, to place thee within it, to give thee fully to understand its principles and its doctrines, and the spirit with which it is animated. That the following passage, "Whatsoeverthoushalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatsoeverthoushalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven," is to be interpreted by another, "Whatsoeveryeshall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatsoeveryeshall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven."[7]And this, again, by the following, "Whosesoever sinsyeremit, they are remitted unto them; and whosesoever sinsyeretain, they are retained."[8]"Ye"—it being no longer said to Peter alone, but to all the apostles; yea, to all the disciples also, which includes all believers. Wherefore St. Augustine exclaims, "What is said to St. Peter is said to all:"Quod dictum est Petro dictum est omnibus.To you believers, what ye bind shall be securely bound, and what ye loose shall be entirely loosed.

This interpretation had given such great uneasiness to the poor friar, that he found it necessary to disburthen his conscience, by relating the whole to the Inquisitors. I do not recollect on what occasion, or in what place, I told him allthis: it is, however, perfectly true; and I imagine, in his own mind, the friar did not disagree with me; though he found it extremely difficult to reconcile it with the tenets of the Church of Rome, which preach that Jesus Christ, in these words, confers upon Peter, and upon him alone, the authority of the keys; by which is to be understood the power of excommunication, and of absolution, to whomsoever he thinks proper, and for whatever cause he may judge expedient; and that this power is still possessed by the heirs of St. Peter, the popes of Rome.

My opinions on these heads were extremely unpalatable to the Church of Rome; and the more so from the consequences that might attach to them. Other accusations were also preferred against me, with reference to the famous dogma of Transubstantiation. It was asserted that I did not appear to believe in the literal sense of the words of Christ, respecting the bread and wine of the Last Supper.

All this, however, was very imperfectly related by my accuser, so that I think no great effect was produced by his disclosures on the minds of the reverend Inquisitors.

Much clearer was the account of a poor nun, written, as she set forth, at the instigation of her confessor. With great simplicity, she related a conversation she had held with me in the confessional, respecting the two sacraments, which entirely occupied the spiritual thoughts of this poor sister, Confession, and the Holy Supper. With respect to the first, she stated, that of all the confessors she had ever heard of, I had the most strange and singular method. I would listen, she said, with the greatest patience, to the disclosure, not only of her sins, but of her thoughts and feelings as well; in short, of all her deficiencies; and that I was very earnest in directing her conscience with respect to what she ought to do, according to the dictates of the Spirit; but that when we were arrived at that point when I ought to have given her absolution, I invariably turned my back, saying that it belonged to God alone to give absolution for sins committedagainst himself; that we can only absolve each other for the offences we may have mutually committed against each other; and that the priest and the bishop can, in the name of the church, absolve such sins as are committed against the church, but nothing further.

"One day, I said to him," added the nun, "'I believe that Confession, as the church teaches, is a sacrament instituted by Christ for the remission of all sins whatsoever. Is it not so?'—'I think not,' replied he, 'because I do not find any passage in the Holy Scriptures where the institution of this sacrament is spoken of.'

"'And the injunction of St. James,' I said, '"Confess your sins to one another?"'

"'They are of the same signification as those that follow, "and pray one for another." Do you imagine that only nuns and monks are to pray for the remainder of mankind? "Confess your sins to one another," signifies that it is your duty to confess to me the sins you have committed against me; and I, on the other hand, will do as much towards you, if ever I should offend you.'

"'Then it is unnecessary that I should reveal to a confessor the sins I may have committed against the laws of God?'

"'Not only unnecessary, but the practice is pernicious, if you believe that the confessor can, on the part of God, pardon you. We read that this power is granted by God to his Christ, who says, "But, that ye may know that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins," &c. God can delegate to another, in an extraordinary mission, authority to announce to others that he has pardoned them, as we read in the case of Nathan, with respect to David. But whom do we ever read of, that was appointed by God to act as a confessor, and to give absolution in his stead? Jesus Christ has given to believers the power to remit their own offences, entirely, and for ever; and this he has done because he is constituted the Head of the Church, that is to say, of the people who arebelievers; to which people God has promised remission of sins, through faith in Jesus Christ.'

"'Then,' said I to him," continued the nun, "'how shall I be assured that my sins are forgiven me, unless a prophet is sent to tell me so, as he was to David?'

"'Oh! you will know it,' replied he, 'through evidence of your own faith, if you can truly say to yourself, "I believe in the remission of sins." Is not faith more convincing than words? Man's words may deceive you, but not the word of God. If you were to hear from me, what you have so often heard from others, "I absolve you from your sins," what assurance would you have, that you were really absolved? What am I, but a sinner, like yourself? Do you apply for health to a sick man, or for wealth to a poor one? Oh! how is it possible that you can prefer to be so continually deceived? Poor deluded being, come out of this darkness, and open your eyes to the light.'

"'Then,' I replied, 'my father, according to your idea, I ought never to confess to any one. How, then, could I partake of the Holy Supper?'

"'St. Paul,' he returned, 'has said, "Let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread and drink of that cup." St. Paul nowhere tells us that it is first necessary to confess to a priest.'"

Here terminated the first part of her account, which was entirely confined to Confession. The second part related to the Communion, and was as follows:—

"One day I was at confession: my heaviest crime was a want of faith in the sacrament of the Holy Supper. I accused myself of having entertained doubts as to the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist.—'What do you understand by the real presence?' demanded he.

"'The substance presented before us of the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus Christ.'

"'If such be your opinion, you are deceived,' he pursued; 'this substance cannot exist in the bread and wine. Youknow that this sacrament is instituted by Christ, to eat and to drink. Hence the precept, "Eat and drink;" and, again, the penalty for non-observance: "If ye eat not of this bread and drink not of this cup, ye have no life in you." Understand well that the body of Christ was not made to be eaten, nor his blood to be drunk. The natural body of Christ was offered in sacrifice once only,[9]which is enough for our sanctification, if you believe St. Paul speaks the truth.'

"'I believe it, indeed,' replied I, 'but I also wish to believe in the Holy Mother, the Church of Rome.'

"'My good daughter,' he said, 'if these two should be opposed to each other, to which of them would you give credence,—to St. Paul, or to the Church of Rome?'

"'I should certainly be more inclined to believe St. Paul, since he speaks through Divine inspiration.'

"'The case is plain then,—St. Paul and the Church of Rome are in opposition. The apostle calls that which we eat in the sacrament, bread, and that which we drink, wine; whereas the Church of Rome pretends that the bread and the wine vanish away, at the appearance of the body and blood of Christ.'

"'But then,' I rejoined, 'where is the sacrament; where is the communion of the body and blood of Christ?'

"'Clearly in the bread and in the cup. You believe St. Paul—listen to his words: "The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ?"'[10]

"To be candid," added the nun, "this doctrine led me away for a time; and in communicating in future, I intended to eat of the bread, and to conjoin myself by faith only, to our Lord Jesus Christ. From which period I could no longer adore the sacrament, for I could not help saying to myself, This is merely bread; it can have no particular signification shut up there;—and so all my devout prayersto this same sacrament were suddenly put an end to. I experienced a sort of repugnance in bending my knee, as I passed before the altar; 'If it be merely bread,' I thought, 'it is an act of idolatry to worship it;' and at length I felt shocked to see others prostrate, and adoring this bread, and offering up prayers to it, as if it were God. Afterwards, I confess, I experienced much suffering when other confessors undertook to lead me back to my old belief. It was necessary to prohibit me from thinking on the words of St. Paul, of which no one was able to give me a satisfactory explanation; unless I should call the reply of a certain reverend father (to whom I confided my difficulty) a satisfactory one, when he assured me that he thought it wiser not to trouble his head about such matters, lest he should have to find the best argument and the most satisfactory explanation within the walls of the Inquisition."

This poor nun, who was at that time converted by my arguments, was afterwards compelled to denounce me to the Inquisition, which she had done through fear of being herself shut up in it, had she refused; as it obtains possession of the greater part of its victims by threatening those who will not denounce them, with imprisonment themselves. And I have no doubt that she was so threatened more than once.

From these and similar accusations was my process got up, before the Inquisition, in the year 1842. Here then was my profession of faith, warranted on very respectable authority. I was very glad to see an account of it; and, to say the truth, I felt not a little proud of it. I hastily put together these few notices, and hid them for future use. I was annoyed that I had not time to read more of the voluminous process, and to extract from it other portions. I should perhaps have found a complete series of accusations, which might have completely laid open my entire Christian belief. In fact, there were denunciations with respect to what I had taught in the schools, in the confessional, and in the pulpit.Doubtless the opportunity was not lost of accusing me of frequently controverting the doctrines of Thomas Aquinas, respecting the pretended propitiatory sacrifice of the Mass, the number of the Sacraments, the value of Indulgences, the torments of Purgatory, and other doctrines of that time, handed down to us as dogmas of religion.

If these accusations were joined to others, which I saw in the volume at the Inquisition, chiefly from Naples, with respect to my preaching, then indeed there could have been nothing wanting to satisfy the Holy Office that I was a heretic, in every sense of the word, and richly merited to be consigned to the flames.

The Dominicans, to whom, in honour of their founder,[11]has hitherto been granted the great privilege of being the chief agents in the Inquisition, hold Thomas Aquinas and his doctrines in the highest esteem and veneration, insomuch that their principal school is called after his name. There is no degree of praise that they have not lavished on their master, on whom they have even bestowed the title ofAngelic; and they have represented him, as all the world knows, with a radiant sun in his breast, as symbolic of his wisdom, and a dove at his ear, to indicate the presence of the Holy Spirit, revealing to him the truth. Among other pleasant stories recorded of him, is one which relates that the crucifix addressed him in a set speech, in approbation of his doctrine, saying, "O Thomas, thou hast written well concerning me!" The Dominicans swear to follow implicitly the theological and philosophical views of Thomas Aquinas; and it is indispensably requisite to take an oath to that effect, before admission into their colleges. At the present juncture,all who do not agree with the Jesuits, flock to the schools of the Dominicans. Indeed, I am of opinion that these two parties divide among themselves the whole Church of Rome: those who are not Jesuits, or Molinists, are Dominicans, or Thomasines. Other schools of theology are of little account, and are scarcely known, having no followers beyond the immediate establishments; such as the Benedictines, the Augustines, the Carmelites, and others.

Brought up myself in this school of Aquinas, I was early imbued with his doctrines. Five years I studied the writings of this author, so celebrated for learning and scholastic subtlety. Unquestionably, Thomas Aquinas was not the original framer of the Romish doctrines: they were already produced, and he did no more than defend and explain them. The most ingenious of theologians, he possessed a rare faculty of persuasion; so that if instead of the doctrines he undertook to defend, he had had others placed before him, still more opposed to the truth, he would equally well have reconciled them at once to the Holy Scriptures, and to the teaching of Aristotle. In hisSumma Theologiæis to be found all that can be most interesting to Rome, exceptil diritto nuovoof the Council of Trent. I have always admired the ingenuity of this writer, but very early I experienced considerable difficulty with respect to some of his theories.

Having completed my course of study, I was appointed, in my twenty-fourth year, to the duty of teaching. The first book on which I had to display my ability was this verySumma Theologiæof Thomas Aquinas. Many opinions were formed as to how I should acquit myself on the occasion. It was predicted by some who had heard me strongly object to various points in the Thomasine doctrines, that I should not prove very faithful to them. The General of the Dominicans hesitated to confide to me a school belonging to the order, after he had heard that in my examination I had shown but little respect for the scholastic doctrines; and he wrote to a certain cardinal, who had sought to engage myservices, as professor of theology, in a seminary: "I would willingly accede to the request of your Eminence, with respect to the Lecturer Achilli, were I not obliged, for certain reasons, to examine him a little further as to his orthodoxy."[12]After the lapse of a year, however, he granted me permission to officiate at Viterbo, where, for a considerable length of time, I was professor of various sciences, at the Seminary and Bishop's College, as I was also of theology, in the College of the Dominicans.

My labours in these situations obtained for me, from the very beginning, considerable reputation, and not a few friends gathered round me. Still I had many enemies, and chiefly among the friars,—a class of gentry who to a very little good, adjoin a large share of evil. Few among them are respectable in character; the major part of them being lazy vagabonds, who, to avoid every species of exertion, either physical or mental, and to pass their whole lives in sloth and ignorance, adopt the frock and cowl, which at once authorize them to receive food, clothes, and lodging, without any trouble or labour on their part. Altogether they constitute the worst part of society, and only serve to demoralize it by their bad example. As I could never endure them, and shunned all intercourse with them, it was natural that I should incur their hatred and censure.

It appeared that those among the friars who disliked me, feared me no less; since in all their attempted persecutions, they studiously avoided coming forward and avowing their hostility. However this may be, out of the cloister I was equally beloved and protected. Many bishops had a regard for me, and several cardinals. Pope Gregory XVI. looked upon me with a favourable eye, and spoke of me to the general of my order; and his predecessor, Leo XII., had recommended me to the Master of the Sacred Palace, as his Vicar, in the year 1827.

In the mean while my enemies grew more and more uneasyevery day, and were more and more disappointed. Did they attack me on one side? They were speedily put to confusion. On the other? It frequently happened they inflicted injury on themselves alone. Often, I believe, they despaired altogether of accomplishing their evil intentions towards me. One only method remained, by means of which, secretly and securely, and without danger of being discovered by myself or my protectors, they might effect their object; and this was the Inquisition: for in that place no one, not even the dearest friend, can afford protection or support. There every accusation has to be fully entered into. The accuser gives his name to the tribunal, which for its own part affects to be ignorant of it. The same with the witnesses. Rarely does it happen that they are examined a second time. Their first deposition is sufficient.

They began in this manner with respect to myself, in order to undermine the edifice they were determined to destroy; and the first attack against me was made at Viterbo, in concert with certain parties in Rome, and some of the Dominicans from Naples, who were also invited to lend their assistance.

But observe the foolishness and blindness of men! They who wielded this powerful weapon against me, thought to destroy me with it; instead of which, they were the means of giving me fresh life. They undertook to explain to others my profession of faith, which I had not yet been able to make out clearly to myself. They reared the structure in the most solemn manner, before the Inquisition, that they themselves might no longer doubt, and that the memory of my conversion from Papacy to pure Christianity, which began about the year 1830, from which epoch the earliest of my accusations are dated, might for ever be preserved. May the Lord be praised!

Why do not my present enemies publish these facts in the manner in which they took place? I should like to see the secret accusations against me openly detailed. Instead offalsely framing charges of immorality which never existed, let them state my real crimes. They might show "that in point of religious belief I could not depart from the Holy Scriptures; that my Christianity did not extend beyond the Bible; that I was greatly opposed to the later doctrines of the Roman Church; that my theology had existed eighteen centuries, neither more nor less; and that every article that did not conform itself to this old theology, I neither owned for doctrine, nor for Christianity." Such was the epitome with which a Dominican friar of Naples wound up a lengthened declamation, to prove that I was, reader, guess what—aNeoterico—aNovatore.

To say the truth, if the Commissioner of the Inquisition had communicated to me the substance of the above, I should have leaped for joy. But in the opinion of the friar, these premises were terrific. A heretic, according to the Bible! ANovatore, according to primitive Christianity! These titles were for me a source of pride and gratification. The Inquisitor thought it far better that I should not be made acquainted with the charges. He did not foresee that I might read them without his permission. But since I had read them, and retained them perfectly in my memory, it frequently happened that I made use of them, in my replies to him. For example, when he asked meQuid sentis de fide? I remember my answer was:

"To those who are good Latin scholars, this question may be considered in three points of view: you might intend to ask me what I think concerning faith? or, what do I think I ought to believe? or, lastly, what is it that I do believe? I will readily reply to all these points. 1st, What do I think concerning faith? That it is a gift from God, by which we are made believers in the truths that He has revealed.—2d, What do I think I ought to believe? The truth alone; which He has revealed to us, according to what is written in the authentic book of Divine Revelation, and interpreted according to the spirit and common sense of Christendom.—3d,What is it that I do believe? The answer is already given."

"Then," rejoined the Inquisitor, "you believe nothing but what you find written in the Bible?"

"Certainly."

"And you think that all that was said and done by Jesus Christ, is recorded in that book? How is it then that St. John tells us, that if that had been the case, the whole world would not have contained the books that would have been written?"[13]

"I am glad, Father Inquisitor, to hear you quote a text from the Evangelist, which, if I interpret it aright, leads us to infer that Jesus did many other things which we do not know; and not, as you imagine, that we know them from other sources; and that, as they are told to us from these sources, so we ought to believe them. I do not believe, Father Inquisitor, more than I find written, because I know that to be sufficient; I am satisfied that I am not deceived; and besides, I believe that no one should add to what is written from Divine inspiration. You have quoted St. John, I now quote him in my turn, and I select that passage in which, speaking of his Revelation, he affirms as follows:—

"'If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book: and if any man shall take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part, out of the book of life.'[14]

"Is it not clear, from this, that we are instructed neither to add to, nor to take away from, what is written? The faith, therefore, that I profess, is the same that was defined by Jesus Christ himself, emanating from him eighteen centuries ago. This law was never abrogated in order to engraft new doctrines upon the old, or to make us falsify our originalbelief. Are you of opinion, Father Inquisitor, that we can possess a different faith from our forefathers? I speak of those early Christians, who, in this very country, renounced idolatry to follow Christ; of those very men to whom the apostle addressed the invaluable testimony: 'Your faith is spoken of throughout the whole world!' In all other matters I am willing to go with the nineteenth century; but as regards religion, I do not depart from the first. I do not know, Father Inquisitor, what your opinion is, but I am firm in the belief that all Christians ought to be similarly minded; and that the Church should return to its first state, both as regards discipline and faith."

Such then, at that time, was my profession of faith; in which I was continually, through the operation of various circumstances, being perfected; not a little assisted by the machinations of my enemies themselves. It is true, I had not yet sufficient courage to seek for occasions of trial; but on their occurrence, I invariably experienced such grace and favour from God, that in no instance was the opportunity lost of deriving due profit from them. And since it has been ordained by Providence that I should bear solemn testimony in favour of the pure and true religion of Christ, and publicly make avowal of my faith before men, and before God, so it was expedient that I should, in the first instance, make declaration of it in the face of my enemies, and of that very tribunal before which so many had sacrificed their lives, in defence of the same holy cause.

I did not at that time perceive the lofty designs of this all-wise Providence: my eyes were not open to behold the hidden destiny which, nevertheless, was in store for me. I walked in darkness, and only knew that I should not lose my way, because I was assured that a Divine hand would be my protection and my guide.

At present, however, through the mercy of the Lord, I see my way more clearly. By his power I have been snatchedfrom the abyss of perdition, delivered from the malice of my enemies, and conducted to a land where there is liberty of belief, and where man lives honourably, in obedience to the laws of truth and justice.

My first step, on finding myself a free man in a free country, was to make a full and unqualified declaration of my religious faith, that there might not remain the least shadow of doubt, as to my entire secession from the Church of Rome.

Every one acquainted with me knows that I never attempt to disguise what I feel; should prudence occasionally enjoin me to be silent, it is only for a very short time that I can listen to her dictates. My energy increases before an opposing barrier, until, like a rushing torrent, it levels and destroys every object it meets with. Thus, no sooner did an outlet present itself for the manifestation of my opinions, than they eagerly pressed forward, and swept away all opposition that stood in their way.

I was full of wrath against the Church of the priests, ever since I discovered the deceit in which I had been educated; and still more so, on account of having myself been instrumental in propagating her doctrines and her errors. This wrath I had hitherto been obliged to restrain within my own breast; but when I arrived in Corfu, in the year 1842, I found an opportunity for giving way to it, of which I quickly availed myself. My tongue was not idle, and my pen was more active still.

I regret that I have not kept copies of several letters I wrote at that time to divers cardinals at Rome, which, although full of stern reproof, were written without bitterness, and in a conciliatory spirit; and I still remember them with pleasure, because I know that they evinced how strong my feelings were upon the subject.[15]

I shall, however, present to my readers, in the Appendix to this work, copies of two letters which I wrote about the same period to Pope Gregory XVI., as well as of one which I subsequently addressed to his successor Pius IX.

FOOTNOTES:[5]On one occasion I was left alone by the Inquisitor, above an hour, in one of the apartments of the Holy Office, while he was preparing my process. He had left on the table a bundle of papers, containing the correspondence of the Inquisition with its agents, and from which my accusations were drawn: I therefore deemed myself at full liberty to peruse these documents, and obtained from them much important matter, relating to my own affairs.[6]Matt. xvi. 19.[7]Matt. xviii. 18.[8]John xx. 23.[9]Heb. x. 10.[10]I Cor. x. 16.[11]Domenico di Guzman was the first Inquisitor, under Innocent III. (1215), to whom he suggested the great project of destroying, by an armed force, all the Protestants of that period, chiefly known under the denominations of Albigenses and Valdenses. This friar, in conjunction with the pope, founded an order of knights, whom he frequently led on himself, and who were renowned for their massacre of these good Christians, who, retaining the Gospel, rejected the new doctrines of the Fourth Council of the Lateran.[12]Letter from Father Velzi to Cardinal Galeffi (1825).[13]John xxi. 25.[14]Rev. xxi. 19.[15]Since the publication of my first Edition, I have discovered among my papers a copy of one of these letters, which will be found in the Appendix. It is addressed to Cardinal Lambruschini, at that time Secretary of State, on occasion of his having urgently required of the Papal Consul, at Corfù, that he should endeavour to induce the Ionian Government to have me sent out of the country. As, however, my real motive for quitting Rome was well known, the Cardinal's remonstrance only served to render the Government more determined to protect me.

[5]On one occasion I was left alone by the Inquisitor, above an hour, in one of the apartments of the Holy Office, while he was preparing my process. He had left on the table a bundle of papers, containing the correspondence of the Inquisition with its agents, and from which my accusations were drawn: I therefore deemed myself at full liberty to peruse these documents, and obtained from them much important matter, relating to my own affairs.

[5]On one occasion I was left alone by the Inquisitor, above an hour, in one of the apartments of the Holy Office, while he was preparing my process. He had left on the table a bundle of papers, containing the correspondence of the Inquisition with its agents, and from which my accusations were drawn: I therefore deemed myself at full liberty to peruse these documents, and obtained from them much important matter, relating to my own affairs.

[6]Matt. xvi. 19.

[6]Matt. xvi. 19.

[7]Matt. xviii. 18.

[7]Matt. xviii. 18.

[8]John xx. 23.

[8]John xx. 23.

[9]Heb. x. 10.

[9]Heb. x. 10.

[10]I Cor. x. 16.

[10]I Cor. x. 16.

[11]Domenico di Guzman was the first Inquisitor, under Innocent III. (1215), to whom he suggested the great project of destroying, by an armed force, all the Protestants of that period, chiefly known under the denominations of Albigenses and Valdenses. This friar, in conjunction with the pope, founded an order of knights, whom he frequently led on himself, and who were renowned for their massacre of these good Christians, who, retaining the Gospel, rejected the new doctrines of the Fourth Council of the Lateran.

[11]Domenico di Guzman was the first Inquisitor, under Innocent III. (1215), to whom he suggested the great project of destroying, by an armed force, all the Protestants of that period, chiefly known under the denominations of Albigenses and Valdenses. This friar, in conjunction with the pope, founded an order of knights, whom he frequently led on himself, and who were renowned for their massacre of these good Christians, who, retaining the Gospel, rejected the new doctrines of the Fourth Council of the Lateran.

[12]Letter from Father Velzi to Cardinal Galeffi (1825).

[12]Letter from Father Velzi to Cardinal Galeffi (1825).

[13]John xxi. 25.

[13]John xxi. 25.

[14]Rev. xxi. 19.

[14]Rev. xxi. 19.

[15]Since the publication of my first Edition, I have discovered among my papers a copy of one of these letters, which will be found in the Appendix. It is addressed to Cardinal Lambruschini, at that time Secretary of State, on occasion of his having urgently required of the Papal Consul, at Corfù, that he should endeavour to induce the Ionian Government to have me sent out of the country. As, however, my real motive for quitting Rome was well known, the Cardinal's remonstrance only served to render the Government more determined to protect me.

[15]Since the publication of my first Edition, I have discovered among my papers a copy of one of these letters, which will be found in the Appendix. It is addressed to Cardinal Lambruschini, at that time Secretary of State, on occasion of his having urgently required of the Papal Consul, at Corfù, that he should endeavour to induce the Ionian Government to have me sent out of the country. As, however, my real motive for quitting Rome was well known, the Cardinal's remonstrance only served to render the Government more determined to protect me.

THE INQUISITION IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

Weare now in the middle of the nineteenth century, and still the Inquisition is actually and potentially in existence. This abominable institution, the history of which is a mass of atrocious crimes, committed by the priests of the Church of Rome, in the name of God and of His Christ, is still in existence in Rome and in the Roman States, with the Pope at its head.

I have heard of some avowed or concealed papists, belonging to Great Britain, who, on occasion of the public demonstrations that took place in the principal cities of the kingdom, on account of my liberation, had the boldness to deny that I had ever been incarcerated in the Inquisition at all; or that any such establishment existed in Rome, at the present period. I shall not take up my own time, or that of my readers, in arguing with these persons, any more than I should with those who might deny that it was noon-day, when the sun was in its zenith.

In the month of April, 1850, during my stay in Dublin, an immense number of people, of all ranks and classes, attended the meetings that were held in my favour, to express their joy in seeing me, and the satisfaction they experienced in hearing me. The whole body of papists were considerably annoyed on the occasion, and not knowing in what manner to put a stop to the proceedings, some of them took it into their heads to spread a report through the city, affirming that I was not the Dr. Achilli, imprisoned by the Inquisition, but an impostor, who assumed his name. This poor invention, however, was not very likely to servethem, as it would have been easy for me to prove my identity. In like manner, any one who should persist in denying the present existence of the Inquisition in Rome, would soon find his statement refuted and held up to ridicule. And this being granted, can any one attempt to justify the conduct of the Church of Rome in permitting it?

I do not know what to think of the audacity of a certain writer, unquestionably not an ordinary personage, who published an article in the "Dublin Review" (July 1850), entitled "The Inquisition;" the object of which was to persuade the world that, after all, this Inquisition, respecting which so muchunjust clamour(!) had been raised, contained nothing but what mighthonestlybe considerednecessary, for thepresent state of society, and theinterests of religion. Every religion, it was stated, had been intolerant. "What by us," it said, "in the present day, is denominated intolerance, entered into the very spirit of the Jewish religion." (P. 423.) The learned writer, who, to his shame, is an Englishman, and at this present time a cardinal, leads the reader to the conclusion that the Almighty himself, the founder of the Jewish religion, has countenanced intolerance.

He then proceeds to observe: "Of the five great religions which divided the Gentile world—the Greek, the Roman, the Egyptian, the Persian, and the Indian—there is not one which can claim exemption from the charge." (Ib.) His inference, therefore, is, that it is no wonder that Christianity also is in a similar state; and this involves the farther conclusion that Christianity itself, in this respect, is a system of religion similar to these five great religious systems which divided the pagan world. This is the doctrine held out to us by a Cardinal Archbishop! According to him, Christianity, like the preceding religions, has always been more or less intolerant. With respect to papacy, it is most true that in practice it has always been more or less so, but in theory it has been always the same. In fact, Thomas Aquinas, the leading theologian and doctor of the Church of Rome, lays down the following doctrine, which his Eminence, and others of his school, seemvery ready to act upon. "It is," says he, "much more grievous to corrupt faith, which is the source and life of the soul, than to corrupt money, which only tends to the relief of the body. Hence, if coiners and other malefactors are justly put to death, by the secular authority, much more may heretics not only be excommunicated, but put to death."[16]

For example, if you, reader, a Christian of intelligent mind, should deny that the bread and the wine, in consequence of a few words uttered over them, should cease to be bread and wine—you, in that case, have corrupted the faith of the Thomasine school, which is that of the Church of Rome; the reverend Inquisitor therefore speedily lays hold of you, with sufficient argument before him to condemn you to death, for the glory of God.

These barbarities were formerly common in Spain and Italy; but now!!—Is the theory of the Church of Rome, you ask, still in favour of these practices? I answer, it is not possible for Cardinal Wiseman to renounce this doctrine, and at the same time remain consistent to his principles. Is it not manifestly a contradiction? It is his duty,[17]then, as a Roman Catholic, and an Archbishop, to condemn you to death, whenever he may have the power so to do, if you refuse to believe that the bread and the wine, over which a priest has breathed the words, "Hoc est corpus meum," have not, forthwith, ceased to be bread and wine. Yes, his Eminence, faithful to his oath, and sanctioned by the theological and legal decision of the Thomasine doctors, must of necessity consign you to the flames. Are flames no longer resorted to, as attracting too vividly the attention of the public? It matters not; poison will get rid of a heretic equally well, and more secretly.

The reverend Jesuits, Busembau, Sa, Escobar, and others, readily gave their vote to that effect. When, in the year 1842, I was for the first time delivered over to the Inquisition,the General of the Dominicans, the oldest of the Inquisitors,[18]exclaimed before the council: "This heretic," speaking of myself, "we had better burn him alive." Such was the humanity of one who had grown grey among the corruptions and evil practices of his profession! His proposition, however, was not seconded, it being the first time I had been accused; but what might not have been my fate, if this old man had been living, and appointed to judge me in the year 1850? In fact, I heard last year, whilst I was in Rome, that another of these precious theologians, less fierce and furious than the Dominican, suggested a more moderate proceeding, in the following terms:—

"I should advise that Achilli be so dealt with as to prevent the possibility of his ever troubling us any more."[19]This, unquestionably, evinced no intention of setting me at liberty. And at a later period, after I had written my letters to the Pope, and published many other things in opposition to the Romish doctrines, the samemonsignore, speaking of me to one of his adherents, who was more my friend than his, observed:

"I was right in the advice I gave in 1842, that Achilli should be so dealt with as to prevent the possibility of his ever troubling us any more. Had it been followed, we should not have had the present annoyance. And who knows what worse he may not have in store for us?"

I am indeed much indebted to thismonsignore: I hope to do far better yet for the true Church of Christ.

What, then, is the Inquisition of the nineteenth century? The same system of intolerance which prevailed in the barbarous ages. That which raised the Crusade, and roused all Europe to arms at the voice of a monk,[20]and of a hermit.[21]That which—in the name of a God of peace, manifested on earth by Christ, who, through love for sinners, gave himselfto be crucified—brought slaughter on the Albigenses and the Waldenses; filled France with desolation, under Domenico di Guzman, and raised in Spain the funeral pile and the scaffold, devastating the fair kingdoms of Granada and Castile, through the assistance of those detestable monks, Raimond de Pennafort, Peter Arbues, and Cardinal Torquemada. The same system which, to its eternal infamy, registers in the annals of France the fatal 24th of August, and the 5th of November, in those of England. The same which at this moment flourishes in Rome; which has never yet been either worn out or modified, and which, in the jargon of the priests, is still called "the Holy, Roman, Universal, Apostolic Inquisition." Holy, as the place where Christ was crucified is holy; Apostolic, because Judas Iscariot was the first Inquisitor; Roman and Universal, because from Rome it extends over all the world.

It is denied by some that the Inquisition, which exists in Rome, as its centre, is extended throughout the world by means of the missionaries. The Roman Inquisition and the Roman Propaganda are nevertheless in close connexion with each other. Every bishop who is sentin partibus infidelium, is an Inquisitor, charged to discover, through the means of his missionaries, whatever is done or said by others, in reference to Rome, with the obligation to make his report secretly. The apostolic nuncios are all Inquisitors, as also are the apostolic vicars.

Here, then, we see the Roman Inquisition extending into the most remote countries. In India, for example—who would ever believe that the Inquisition was at work there? So far from Rome! in the dominions of the English! The bare assertion would meet with ridicule. "Oh! the Inquisition in India! No, no, we cannot believe that. In name, indeed, it may be there, but never in actual reality." Fortunately, however, I have a letter by me, which I received in this country in March last. The original has been seen by many persons; among others, by Sir Culling E. Eardley, through whom, indeed, I received it. It came to hand veryopportunely. It is written in English, and, if not elegant in its phraseology, it is at least sincere, and to be depended upon. It is as follows:—

"Dear and Reverend Sir,—I hope you will excuse me, if I, who am a stranger to you, take the liberty to address you the present letter. But the same God who delivered you from the brutal hands of your persecutors, (for which I congratulate you,) has given me courage to rise from my lethargy in which I was; and, kneeling before His presence, I heard a voice, saying, Write to Mr. A. [Achilli] for advice, and fly again from this Babylon. Therefore, full of confidence, I take the pen, in order to relate to you all my story.

"I am a Roman Catholic priest, and, as soon as I was ordained, being very anxious to preach the gospel to the poor Hindoos, I left Rome, on the 2d of March, 1840, being then twenty-three years of age, and was sent byPropaganda Fideto India; and there, being able to speak the English language, I was appointed, by the Roman Catholic bishop of Bombay, as military chaplain, and was sent to a military camp at Belgaum, where I was a very zealous and bigoted Roman Catholic priest, till God was pleased to open my eyes in the following manner:

"A Protestant clergyman of the Church of Scotland, named Taylor, celebrated the marriage ceremony to two Catholics; and this hurt my feeling very much; therefore I thought it my duty to write him a letter in very impolite[22]manner, as is the custom of all Roman Catholic priests to do, to which he answered very kindly, and sent me also some Protestant books to read;—of course I refused to read them, and I returned them to him. But God put into his heart to call, as he did, on me. He spoke to me a new language, which I had never before heard;—it was the language of a true Christian—(how sinner is justified before God). This language, by the grace of God, touched my heart in such a manner that Itook a Protestant book and began to read. It was 'The Spirit of the Papacy,' which opened my eyes, and I began to perceive the errors of the Church of Rome. Then, quite another man, I opened the Holy Bible, and confirmed myself that the Catholic religion is in perfect contradiction to the word of God, and that the Protestant Church was the Church in which God called me; therefore I opened my mind to the Rev. Mr. Jackson, who was the military Protestant chaplain at Belgaum, and a great friend of mine. He advised me to write to Dr. Carr, bishop of Bombay, which I did; and his lordship was pleased to answer me in a very polite manner, begging me to write my sentiments about the real presence of our Lord Jesus Christ in the Sacrament, and a treatise on the spiritual power of the Pope, which I also did; and then he wrote to me to go to Bombay, where I embraced the Protestant religion; that is to say, the pure religion of the Gospel.

"A Spanish Jesuit priest, named Francis Xavier Serra, whom I never saw before, called on me, in a secular dress; and, speaking the Italian language well, he told me that he was an Italian layman, and having heard that I was an Italian too, he called on me: but he did not mention anything about religion, saying he did not care about it;—and he was very kind to me. He called on me four or five times; till one day, being a very agreeable evening, he begged me to take a round with him, which I did. And we went near the Catholic church, and to my great surprise, I was taken by four men, and forced to go to the vicar-general, where they forced me to write a letter to the Protestant minister, Mr. Valentine, in whose house I lived, stating my intention to return to the Catholic religion; which I am very sorry to say I did. They then closed me in a room, till Sunday; when the vicar took me by force to the pulpit, and dictated to me what I was to say to the congregation; and he obliged me to declare that I left the Catholic religion for worldly motives; which was quite contrary to my sentiments. When night came,they took me from the room in which I was closed, and delivered me to a captain of a French ship, as a prisoner; with the order to take care of me to Marseilles, where he delivered me to the bishop; who, with a French priest, sent me to Rome. From Rome I was sent, as a punishment, to a convent at Perugia, where I remained for five years, till I got again my liberty, and returned to Rome; this was in November 1848.

"I am sure, Sir, you are not surprised to hear the treachery made to me at Bombay by that Jesuit, and by the vicar. Besides, you must know that the vicar, whose name is Father Michele Antonio, for his bad character, had been put in gaol for six months, by the British Government at Bombay.

"Now, Sir, I live in a most miserable estate of mind, being from my heart a Protestant, yet I am obliged to observe the Roman Catholic forms; which is quite contrary to my feelings. I am very sorry that I had not in India the Christian courage which you have demonstrated just now in Rome: but you must know that they threatened me with brutal menaces, and that I was too young.

"I am at present firmly resolved to fly from this Babylon, and embrace again the pure doctrine of the Gospel; to remain in the faith, by the grace of God, till my death, and to preach it throughout the world....

"I have the honour &c."Your Brother in Jesus Christ,

"N. N."

"Rome, the 26th Feb. 1850."

This adventure at Bombay proves that the Inquisition is not only in existence, but sufficiently daring to carry on its operations even within the British dominions: and we see the manner in which it acts. In Bombay, the recantation of this poor priest is all that is known (as an English missionary, who was there at the time, told me): it was said, indeed, that he had since left the country; but no one knew of the treachery of the Jesuit, or of the tricks of the apostolic vicar.

Similar events occur, more or less frequently, in various parts of the world; most commonly in the Levant; since the Turkish governor does not grant his protection to foreigners, and the obliging consuls of Austria, France, and Naples generally have the complaisance to arrest whomsoever the bishops require, and send them to Rome. It is notorious that in Constantinople, in the year 1847, an Armenian priest, D. Giovanne Keosse, although an Ottoman subject and born in Constantinople, was seized in the night by four bullies from the Austrian Embassy, and hurried into a steamer, to be conveyed as a prisoner to Marseilles, and thence to Rome, to be handed over to the Inquisition. And all this took place by order of the Armenian Catholic Bishop.

This Keosse, who was confined in a cabin on board the steamer, found means to effect his escape, by slipping through the window, into a boat, while the vessel was disembarking a part of its passengers and goods at Smyrna. He subsequently put himself under the protection of the American consul; and the Austrian, finding himself discovered, gave up the affair, and so it ended. Keosse, however, did not feel at all sure of his safety from the grasp of the Inquisition, so long as he remained under the Ottoman Government; and being advised to go to Malta, he went there without delay, and there he remains at the present period.[23]This affair of Keosse was much talked about; several journals took it up; and some went so far as to insult the Embassy, for acting in the character of Inquisitors.

I certainly think these gentlemen must be ashamed of themselves for having lent their aid to the Inquisition of Rome; pretty much in the same manner as the French have reason to blush for having lent six chasseurs of Vincennes, toeffect my imprisonment in the same place. But such is the witchcraft of this renowned harlot, that, almost without being aware of it, "all nations have drunk of the wine of the wrath of her fornication, and the kings of the earth have committed fornication with her."[24]

We have seen constitutional Austria and republican France degrade themselves so far as to bombard our cities, to replace upon the throne—whom?—the head of the Inquisition! And Spain, that has shown so much determination in resisting priestcraft, monkery, and the dominion of the Inquisition, she also hastened to Rome,—and for what purpose? To assist in the restoration of the papacy!

But let us inquire what is the Inquisition of the present day in Rome. It is the very same that was instituted at the Council of Verona, to burn Arnold of Brescia; the same that was established, at the third Council of the Lateran, to sanction the slaughter of the Albigenses and the Waldenses, the massacre of the people, the destruction of the city; the same that was confirmed at the Council of Constance, to burn alive two holy men, John Huss and Jerome of Prague; that which at Florence, subjected Savonarola to the torture; and at Rome condemned Aonio Paleario, and Pietro Carnesecchi. It is the self-same Inquisition with that of Pope Caraffa, and of Fr. Michele Ghislieri, who built the palace called theHoly Office, where so many victims fell a sacrifice to its barbarity, and where at the present moment the Roman Inquisition still exists. Its laws are always the same.The Black Book, orPraxis Sacræ Romanæ Inquisitionis, is always the model for that which is to succeed it. This book is a large manuscript volume, in folio, and is carefully preserved by the head of the Inquisition. It is called,Libro Nero,the Black Book, because it has a cover of that colour; or, as an Inquisitor explained to me,Libro Necro, which, in the Greek language, signifies "the book of the dead."

In this book is the criminal code, with all the punishments for every supposed crime; also the mode of conducting the trial, so as to elicit the guilt of the accused; and the manner of receiving the accusations. I had this book in my hand, on one occasion, as I have related above, and read therein the proceedings relative to my own case; and I moreover saw in this same volume, some very astounding particulars: for example, in the list of punishments, I read concerning the bit, or as it is called by us themordacchia; which is a very simple contrivance to confine the tongue, and compress it between two cylinders, composed of iron and wood, and furnished with spikes. This horrible instrument not only wounds the tongue and occasions excessive pain, but also, from the swelling it produces, frequently places the sufferer in danger of suffocation. This torture is generally had recourse to in cases considered as blasphemy against God, the Virgin, the Saints, or the Pope. So that, according to the Inquisition, it is as great a crime to speak in disparagement of a pope, who may be a very detestable character, as to blaspheme the holy name of God. Be that as it may, this torture has been in use till the present period; and to say nothing of the exhibitions of the same nature which were displayed in Romagna, in the time of Gregory XVI., by the Inquisitor Ancarani—in Umbria, by Stefanelli, Salua, and others, we may admire the inquisitorial zeal of Cardinal Ferretti, the cousin of his present holiness, who condescended more than once to employ these means, when he was Bishop of Rieti and Fermo.

Every one knows how the Holy Inquisition has surpassed every other tribunal by its exquisite ingenuity in torturing human nature. Must I bring examples from the Inquisition of Spain? That of Rome has her own to answer for as well. Through the mercy of Heaven, the former has come to an end; but that of Rome is still in full vigour.

I do not propose to myself to speak of the Inquisition of times past, but of what exists in Rome at the presentmoment: I shall therefore assert that the laws of this institution being in no respect changed, neither can the institution itself be said to have undergone any alteration. The present race of priests who are now in power, are too much afraid of the popular indignation to let loose all their inquisitoria fury, which might even occasion a revolt, if they were not to restrain it; the whole world, moreover, would cry out against them; a crusade would be raised against the Inquisition itself, and for a little temporary gratification, much power would be endangered. This is the true reason why the severity of its penalties is in some degree relaxed at the present time, but they still remain unaltered in its code.

Concerning the method of conducting a process, I read in theLibro Necroas follows: "With respect to the examination, and the duty of the examiners—either the prisoner confesses, and he is proved guilty from his own confession, or he does not confess, and is equally guilty on the evidence of witnesses. If a prisoner confesses the whole of what he is accused of, he is unquestionably guilty of the whole; but if he confesses only a part, he ought still to be regarded as guilty of the whole; since what he has confessed proves him to be capable of guilt, as to the other points of accusation. And here the precept is to be kept in view, 'no one is obliged to condemn himself,'nemo tenetur prodere seipsum. Nevertheless, the judge should do all in his power to induce the culprit to confess, since confession tends to the glory of God. And as the respect due to the glory of God requires that no one particular should be omitted, not even a mere attempt; so the judge is bound to put in force, not only the ordinary means which the Inquisition affords, but whatever may enter into his thoughts, as fitting to lead to a confession. Bodily torture has ever been found the most salutary and efficient means of leading to spiritual repentance. Therefore, the choice of the most befitting mode of torture is left to the Judge of the Inquisition, who determines according to the age,the sex, and the constitution of the party. He will be prudent in its use, always being mindful, at the same time, to procure what is required from it—the confession of the delinquent. If, notwithstanding all the means employed, the unfortunate wretch still denies his guilt, he is to be considered as a victim of the devil; and, as such, deserves no compassionfromthe servants of God, nor the pity or indulgence of holy mother Church: he is a son of perdition. Let him perish, then, among the damned, and let his place be no longer found among the living."

This most astounding page is followed by another, in which is given the mode of obtaining a conviction. Various means are pointed out to establish the guilt of the prisoner, and to declare him deserving the condemnation of the tribunal. For example, Titius is accused of having eaten meat on Friday or Saturday. The Inquisition does not permit the name of the accused to appear, neither those of the witnesses. The accusation is laid that Titius has eaten meat in the house of Caius. Sempronius is the accuser, and he summons the family of Caius to give evidence; but, as these have been accomplices in the same affair, they cannot be induced to depose against Titius; perhaps other witnesses may be brought, who may be equally incompetent. In which case the wary judge endeavours to draw from the prisoner himself sufficient to inculpate him. He will first inquire respecting several other families the points which he wishes to know with regard to that of Caius. He will try to learn at what other houses Titius has been accustomed to eat, in order to know concerning the house of Caius, where the meat was eaten. The accusation sets forth that on such a day, at such an hour, Titius went to the house of Caius, where the whole family were present, and that all sat down to table, &c. &c. If Titius admits all the circumstantial matters brought forward by the accuser, with respect to time, place, and persons, but is silent, or denies entirely the only crime imputed to him, he stands convicted: the accuser has no necessity to bring forward witnesses: judgment is pronounced.

This practice is still employed by the Inquisition. In the year 1842, I was accused of having spoken, in a certain house, against the worship of saints. If the judge had made my accusation known (as is the case in all other tribunals throughout the world), saying to me: You are accused of having, in such a house, spoken of such and such matters, in the presence of so and so,—I should have known my accuser by the part he would take in the question. But instead of interrogating me in a straightforward manner, I was made to give a description of the house in question, together with that of several other houses; to describe the persons belonging to it, and many other persons at the same time; to discuss the real subject of accusation, mixed up with other irrelevant matters, in order to mislead me as much as possible, and prevent me from gaining any insight whatever of the points of which I was accused, or of the persons who had accused me. Whether I confessed or not, I was to be declared guilty, or, as they term it,reo convinto.

With regard to these denunciations, the Inquisition declares that, in matters of offences against religion, it is the positive and bounden duty of every one to become an accuser. Children may and ought to accuse their parents, wives their husbands, and servants their masters. The law is, according to the decrees of several popes, that whoever becomes acquainted with any offence committed against religion, whether from his own knowledge, or from hearsay, is bound, within fifteen days, to bring forward his accusation before an inquisitor, or the vicar of the Holy Office; or, where these are not present, before a bishop. The crime, whatever it may be, not only attaches to the principal and the accomplices, but also to every one who knows of it and does not reveal it. So that if you, for example, dear reader, should unfortunately belong to the Church of the Inquisition, you would be obliged to accuse not only me, who address you, but all those who, together with yourself, listen to me: and whoever knows that you have listened to my discourses, although he himself maynever have heard me, is under the obligation to denounce you to the Inquisition. The punishment for non-observance of this duty is excommunication, which excludes the party subject to it from the benefit of all the sacraments, and shuts him out from the kingdom of heaven. Moreover, besides excommunication, he is liable to be imprisoned in the Inquisition, and to suffer such other punishment as may be deemed necessary. Even the very Cardinals, and the Inquisitors themselves, are not exempt from this obligation; the Pope himself has followed the example. My letters to Gregory XVI. were immediately forwarded to the Inquisition, by his own hand. I have reason to believe that Pius IX. did the same when I wrote to him. All this we may overlook: but that a wife should be obliged to accuse her own husband, or a mother her children, is too dreadful to think of.

I will here relate a fact which it always pains me to recall to mind; and which, until the present occasion, I have never before spoken about. During my residence at Viterbo, my native town, where I was public professor and teacher in the College ofGradi, I was one day applied to by a lady of prepossessing appearance, whom I then saw for the first time. She requested, with much eagerness, to see me in the sacristy; and as I entered the apartment where she was waiting for me, she begged the sacristan to leave us alone, and suddenly closing the door, presented a moving spectacle to my eyes. Throwing off her bonnet, and letting loose in a moment her long and beautiful tresses, the lady fell upon her knees before me, and gave vent to her grief in abundance of sighs and tears. On my endeavouring to encourage her, and to persuade her to rise and unfold her mind to me, she at length, in a voice broken by sobs, thus addressed me:

"No, father, I will never rise from this posture, unless you first promise to pardon me my heavy transgression." (Although much younger than herself, she addressed me as her father.)

"Signora," replied I, "it belongs to God to pardon our transgressions. If you have in any way injured me, so far I can forgive you; but I confess I have no cause of complaint against you, with whom, indeed, I have not even the pleasure of being acquainted."

"I have been guilty of a great sin, for which no priest will grant me absolution, unless you will beforehand remit it to me."

"You must explain yourself more fully; as yet I have no idea of what you allude to."

"It is now nearly a year since I received absolution from my confessor; and the last few days he has entirely forbid me his presence, telling me that I am damned. I have tried others, and all tell me the same thing. One, however, has lately informed me, that if I wished to be saved and pardoned, I must apply to you, who, after the Pope, are the only one who can grant me absolution."

"Signora, there is some mistake here, explain yourself: of what description is your sin?"

"It is a sin against the Holy Office."[25]

"Well, but I have nothing to do with the Holy Office."

"How? are not you Father Achilli, the Vicar of the Holy Office?"

"You have been misinformed, Signora; I am Achilli, the deputy master of the Holy Palace, not Office: you may see my name, with this title, prefixed to all works that are printed here, in lieu of that of the master himself. I assure you that neither my principal nor myself have any authority in cases that regard the Inquisition."

The good lady hereupon rose from her knees, arranged her hair, wiped the tears from her eyes, and asked leave to relate her case to me; and, having sat down, began as follows:—

"It is not quite a year since, that I was going, about the time of Easter, according to my usual custom, to confess my sins to my parish priest. He, being well acquainted with myself and all my family, began to interrogate me respecting my son, the only one I have, a young man twenty-four years of age, full of patriotic ardour, but with little respect for the priests. It happened that I observed to the curate that, notwithstanding my remonstrances, my son was in the habit of saying that the business of a priest was a complete deception, and that the head of all the impostors was the Pope himself. Would I had never told him! The curate would hear no further. 'It is your duty,' said he, 'to denounce your son to the Inquisition.' Imagine what I felt at this intimation! To be the accuser of my own son! 'Such is the case,' persisted he, 'there is no help for it—I cannot absolve you, neither can any one else until the thing is done.' And, indeed, from every one else I have had the same refusal. It will soon be twelve months since I have received absolution; and in this present year many misfortunes have befallen me. Ten days ago I tried again, and promised, in order that I might receive absolution, that I would denounce my son; but it was all in vain, until I had actually done so. I inquired then to whom I ought to go, to prefer the accusation. And I was told to the Bishop, or the Vicar of the Holy Office, and they named yourself to me. Twice already have I been here, with the intention of doing what was required of me, and as often have I recollected that I was a mother, and was overwhelmed with horror at the idea. On Sunday last I came to your church, to pray to the Virgin, the mother of Christ, to aid me through this difficulty; and when I had recited the rosary in her honour, I turned to pray also to the Son, saying: 'O Lord Jesus, thou wert also accused before the chief priests, by a traitorous disciple; but thou didst not permit that thy Mother should take part in that accusation. Behold, then, I also am a mother; and although my son is a sinner, whilst thou wert most just, do not, I implore thee, require that hisown mother should be his accuser.' Whilst I was making this prayer the preaching began. I inquired the preacher's name, and they told me yours. I feigned to pay attention to the discourse, but I was wholly occupied in looking at you, and reflecting, with many sighs, that I was under the obligation to accuse to you my own child. In the midst of my agitation a thought suddenly relieved me; I did not see the Inquisitor in your countenance. Young, animated, and with marks of sensibility, it seemed that you would not be too harsh with my son; I thought I would intreat you first to correct him yourself, to reprimand, and to threaten him, without inflicting actual punishment upon him."


Back to IndexNext