FOOTNOTES:

I shall not recapitulate my injunctions to this poor woman, to tranquillize her mind with respect to having to denounce her son. I advised her to change her confessor, and to be silent with regard to him—anyhow she was not in fault. And if confession, I further remarked, be a sacrament that pardons sins, it can never be made a means of unwarrantably obtaining information as to the words or deeds of another.

But had I really been Vicar of the Holy Office, what would have been my duty in this matter? To receive the accusation of a mother against her own son. An unheard-of enormity! She naturally would have made it in grief and tears, and I should have had to offer her consolation. And since this horrible act of treason has the pretence of religion about it, I should have employed the aid of religion to persuade her that the sacrifice she made was most acceptable to God. Perhaps, to act my part better, I might have alluded to the sacrifice demanded of Abraham, or Jephtha; or cited some apposite texts from Scripture, to calm and silence the remorse of conscience she must have experienced on account of the iniquity of bringing her child before the Inquisition.

Now let us see what is done by the Inquisitors. In what is called the Holy Office, everything is allowable that tends to their own purposes. To gain possession of a secret no means are to be disregarded; not even those against our very nature.For a father and a mother to reveal the thoughts of their own children, so trustingly confided to them,—a revelation which may lead to their death,—is so great a crime that we cannot imagine one more base. And yet the Inquisition not only sanctions, but enjoins it to be done, daily. And this most infamous Inquisition, a hundred times destroyed, and as often renewed, still exists in Rome, as in the barbarous ages; the only difference being, that the same iniquities are at present practised there with a little moresecrecyand caution than formerly: and this for the sake of prudence, that the Holy See may not be subjected to the animadversions and censure of the world at large.

FOOTNOTES:[16]St. Thom. 2d. 9: xi. art. 3.[17]The bishops swear to observe the laws of the Inquisition.[18]Father Ancarani, an Inquisitor of forty-five years standing.[19]This most reverend personage is a man of mild temper, apparently incapable of cruelty. He was at that time one of the Counsellors of the Inquisition.[20]Bernard of Chiaravalle.[21]Peter the Hermit.[22]As the style does not interfere with the sense, it has not been deemed necessary to correct the foreign idioms in this letter.[23]We have lately learned that this worthy has again entered the Romish Church. It appears that even while he was employed in the Malta College, he was negotiating with Rome for his pardon; on what precise terms is not known, but certainly on condition of abjuring Protestantism, and declaring himself its adversary. It is said he is now at the Propaganda.[24]Rev. xviii. 3.[25]Every offence of which the Inquisition takes cognisance is called "an offence against the Holy Office."

[16]St. Thom. 2d. 9: xi. art. 3.

[17]The bishops swear to observe the laws of the Inquisition.

[18]Father Ancarani, an Inquisitor of forty-five years standing.

[19]This most reverend personage is a man of mild temper, apparently incapable of cruelty. He was at that time one of the Counsellors of the Inquisition.

[20]Bernard of Chiaravalle.

[21]Peter the Hermit.

[22]As the style does not interfere with the sense, it has not been deemed necessary to correct the foreign idioms in this letter.

[23]We have lately learned that this worthy has again entered the Romish Church. It appears that even while he was employed in the Malta College, he was negotiating with Rome for his pardon; on what precise terms is not known, but certainly on condition of abjuring Protestantism, and declaring himself its adversary. It is said he is now at the Propaganda.

[24]Rev. xviii. 3.

[25]Every offence of which the Inquisition takes cognisance is called "an offence against the Holy Office."

THE SUBTLETY OF THE INQUISITION.

Thecase of this poor woman, obliged to denounce her son, is in accordance with both the old and new regulations of the Inquisition; and the manner in which it was endeavoured to be enforced is of common occurrence. Many other means are also in use among the artifices of this Holy Office, to induce persons to betray their friends. A wife, however, who is called upon to accuse her husband, has to encounter still more difficulty than a mother under the obligation to accuse her children. Indeed, such a circumstance would never take place, if the husband could discover that it was the intention of his wife to lay open his secret thoughts before so horrible a tribunal, the consequence of which would be speedy arrest, torture, and condemnation!! The difficulty of this case could not escape the observation of the Roman Court. If it was known as a certainty, in even a single instance, that a wife, to oblige a priest, had betrayed her own husband, and that the priest had made use of the confessional to induce the woman to the commission of such an act, would any husband calmly see his wife going to confession, and not apprehend that between her and the confessor some plot might be hatching against him? A single doubt, a mere suspicion, would be enough to sow discord between a married pair; and as in Italy the physical temperament is sufficiently ardent easily to fall into excesses, it might happen that, through the agency of the priest, the husband might beat, repudiate, or even murder his wife.

How then is it to be managed that the wife shall betray her husband with the least chance of his discovering her treachery? The best method is, that she should be instructed by her confessor to go to another town, where she is not known, and there make her disclosure; keeping it secret that she is the wife of the accused, and concealing his real name, till the confessor has disclosed the affair to the Inquisition, which alone knows all the intricacies of the proceedings. And since, moreover, it might happen that the husband might know that his wife, under a false pretence, had gone to another place to see the Inquisitor, or the Bishop's Vicar, the Inquisition grants to other persons the privilege of receiving an accusation; constituting them Sub-Inquisitors for that single case, under the pledge of inviolable secrecy. This arrangement is not merely imaginary, but really takes place; and in confirmation of it, I will here, for the first time, relate another fact which happened to myself.

In the year 1832 I was living at Viterbo, occupied with many duties, which precluded me from the enjoyment of a moment's leisure. In the Civic College I was, during seven years, Professor of Logic, Metaphysics, and Ethics; in the College di Gradi, during five years, I was chief Professor of Theology; in the Bishop's Seminary, I was Professor of the Holy Scriptures, which chair was founded by myself, and ceased on my departure, after I had held it for two years. I was Sub-Master of the Sacred Palace three years under Cardinal Velzi, and three years under the most Reverend Father Buttaoni; I was also yearly Preacher at the Church di Gradi, and Superior of the Monastery, with the title of Grand Vicar. And, lastly, I was Confessor to the Apostolic Delegate, who is the governing Prelate of the province; and as such I was in the habit of receiving many applications from all classes of people, who had recourse to me, to obtain favour or justice from the delegate.

One day, when I was very busy, a lady was announced, who, without sending in her name, earnestly desired to see me. Iimagined she only came with some request concerning the delegate, and therefore sent word that I was too much engaged at that moment to be able to see her. The lady persisted, and I sent the same excuse. At last, finding that I was firm, the lady handed a letter to the lay-brother, sealed with a large seal, and directed to "The Very Reverend Father, Professor G. Achilli, Gradi, Viterbo." The seal was that of the Roman Inquisition, signed by the Commissary-General. The letter was as follows:—

"Very Reverend Father,—The Sacred Congregation of the Most Eminent and Reverend Cardinals, in their sitting of Wednesday, the ... have desired me to hand over to you the enclosed form of denunciation, according to which you will have the goodness to examine and interrogate the lady who is the bearer of it; avoiding to askof hername, the place she comes from, and her connexion with the party accused; all which are already known to the Sacred Congregation. For this purpose I am authorized to invest you with all necessary authority on this particular occasion, and for this time only. I recommend to you all necessary prudence, and to be mindful of the inviolable secrecy due to the Holy Office, the slightest breach of which is punished with ecclesiastic censure, and is finally referred to the Pope.

"You will have the goodness to send back, with all diligence, after the performance of this duty, not only the formula of questions, with the answers to them, but also the present letter, of which no copy is to be taken.

"May the Lord prosper you."

"Rome, from the Palace of the Holy Office,March 1832."

When I had finished reading the letter, I felt a curiosity to see this mysterious visitor. I therefore descended to the apartment where she was waiting for me, and I saw a lady,about thirty years of age, well dressed, and in a style that announced her to belong to the wealthier class: her accent showed that she came from another part of the country. She received me with some degree of consternation in her manner, and replied to me half trembling, and with downcast eyes, and evident anxiety.

"Signora, I have received a letter through you; the contents must be known to you. Will you inform me in what manner you obtained it?"

"From my confessor: I do not know whether directly from Rome, or through the bishop."

"Can you make it convenient to prefer your accusation another time?"

"I beseech you, let me do so at present, since to-morrow I am obliged to return home."

I considered with myself whether I could not find some excuse for not acting in this business, and so avoid all trouble by sending the Signora away; or whether I had not better sacrifice a little time to receive the accusation, and hear what it was about.

"Well, then," said I, "let us to business. I should imagine it would not occupy much time—what is your opinion?"

I then sat down before a table, and unfolded the formulary of questions, which were comprised in a printed sheet. I looked over the paper, to ascertain its tenor, and of what it treated. I thought no more of the lady; my mind was entirely occupied in considering how I should proceed, when a deep sigh aroused me, and made me turn my eyes towards her. She began to weep outright.

"What is the matter, Signora?—why do you weep?"

Tears and sobs were her only reply. I endeavoured to speak comfort to her.

"Signora, do not weep; calm yourself: reveal the cause of your affliction, and you may find relief. If you disclose your mind to me, I may, in my turn, say something that will console you; but if you do nothing but shed tears, I must sendsome other person to attend to you, for I have business which I cannot postpone."

She grew calmer by degrees, and I began my task. The formula was in Latin; I had to translate it into Italian: her own answers were to be written down exactly.

I was displeased to see the act begin. "In the name of God," &c.: I felt also unwilling to put my own name at the head of the document, which said, "Before me, A. B., a certain woman presented herself." I had, nevertheless, a great desire to know the whole affair, and was, in some measure, pleased that the Inquisition had, on this occasion, required my services. I had always abhorred the Holy Office, and had intended, even from my earliest youth, to expose its iniquity, as far as it was possible for me to do so, whenever an occasion should occur. "The present is a good opportunity," I said to myself, "to get at the mysteries of the Inquisition. I shall doubtless learn some curious matters, which may be useful to me hereafter."

"Now, Signora, you must remember that it is your duty to declare the truth. I suppose it is no trifling affair that has induced you to denounce a person to the Inquisition;—above all, I desire to know what may have been your motives?"

"To save me from a hell."

"Sometimes it happens that in seeking to avoid one hell, we may fall into another; that in endeavouring to silence a scruple, we may incur remorse; and that the means we take to save the soul of another may endanger our own. Tell me, from what kind of hell do you seek to be delivered by this act?"

"The hell that I experience in entering a church. It is not every one who goes there that finds it a Paradise. God is there, Jesus Christ, the most holy Madonna, saints, angels, and holy water. It is there we are baptized, confess, and receive the grace of God. I alone participate in none of these ordinances in the church; therefore it has become hateful to me, and the priests are odious in my sight."

"And how does all this happen?"

"Father, it is as I say. You will understand it all. Relieve me from this load, and I shall hope to be able afterwards to make peace with God and the saints, and be delivered from this hell."

"Well, what is the deposition—the accusation you have to make?"

"Allow me, father, to relate my story from the beginning. I cannot tell you by halves."

So saying she remained thoughtful a few moments, and then exclaimed:

"I hardly know where to begin.—I would inform you—but—"

"Courage,—relate the affair simply as it is. I wish not to know either more or less than you choose to tell me. For example, I ask neither your name, your place of residence, nor what connexion you have with the party accused."

"Ah! Father, these are the express conditions on which I consented to disclose what I have to unfold. Shame forbids me to reveal either my name, my residence, or my connexions; since, were you ever to visit the town where I, with my family, reside, you would recollect a deed of which I am sure you cannot approve. And where would be the use of concealing the place of my residence, and telling you the name of the party whom I am to accuse? It is too well known that you should not yourself immediately recognise it. Oh, is it possible that at this price alone I am to recover my peace!—at this, and at no other, to be admitted anew to the privilege of confession, and the benefit of the other sacraments! That to be a Christian, I must consent to betray another!—to betray the person whom in all the world I best love!—enjoined to do so, both by Divine and human laws?"

As she concluded, she arose, and I observed that with the fingers of her right hand she pressed upon her left, and turned round a ring that was there, on the annular finger. She then resumed:

"Where then shall we in future hope to place confidence?—how trust in the sacredness of vows pledged at the altar? Can God be in contradiction to Himself? Are there two sets of laws, the one natural and the other contrary to nature? and are they both obligatory? Ought I, at the same time, both to love and to hate? Oh! what wouldhesay if he knew what occupies me at this moment? And can I return joyfully to him, who little suspects what I am doing, to still live with him, and call him by the tenderest names, until the day comes, or perhaps the night, when the officers of justice shall secretly enter the house, apprehend, and take him away—and to what place? To the dungeons of the Holy Office! And who would have placed him there? I, myself, by the very act I am going to commit! But if I do not do so, I am in a state of perdition, since there will be no longer pardon or absolution for me! Excommunication, from which no one can deliver me, will be my fate! And he also will be excommunicated! His soul will be for ever lost, unless it be purified in the Inquisition!—Both of us to lose all hope of salvation and eternal life! And that, because we refuse to make fitting sacrifice on earth! These, Father, are the thoughts that agitate me, that divide my soul, that have led me here, and that have since sealed my lips. What ought I to do?—what reveal? I am miserable, because I listen at once to the flesh and the spirit; and whichever way I force myself to act, I am always divided against myself. Oh! why are not you, who are called fathers, husbands as well? then, as other men, you would have wives to love; and you would better comprehend these matters, and would see the value of the text, 'Do not to others what ye would not that men should do unto you.'"

"Let us come to an end, Signora. You have promised the Inquisition to make an accusation, and that as a matter of duty, or rather, from scruples of conscience. When you made this promise, you no doubt imagined you did what was right."

"No, Father, I do not deceive myself; I never thought I was doing right. In every point of view I considered I wasdoing wrong. Nevertheless, I judged it necessary; as it is necessary to have an arm or a foot cut off, that is in a state of gangrene. I looked upon it as a castigation from the Almighty; as if my house had been burned, or a heavy beam had fallen on my shoulders. I thought that God was angry with me on account of my sins, and that to appease Him I must sacrifice to Him what was most dear to me. I have often felt as if I should not survive so dire an event; the mere idea of it is afflicting to me beyond expression. Father, I am here to make a sacrifice of myself upon the altar, I regret to say it, of the Inquisition."

"And do you desire, Signora, that I should be the priest on the occasion? It is an office I have never performed. My hand is more ready to be stretched out for good than evil. I should feel remorse in sacrificing you. I thought that you were come to make your deposition voluntarily, or your own free-will; and even in that case I should have had some hesitation in receiving it: I repeat, I have never undertaken the office of an Inquisitor. In the present instance, I will by no means lend my aid to an act of violence. I am a minister of a God of Peace, of Christ, who died for our sins; and it is on condition of believing in what He has done for us that we obtain pardon. I do not find that any sacrifice is required of us, to be reconciled to God, unless it be the sacrifice of our spirit on the altar of faith. 'A humble and a contrite heart,' says David, 'O God, thou wilt not despise.' I find throughout the whole of the Bible a continual invitation to seek God; and to find Him there is but one way, which is Jesus Christ. He has said, 'I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life: no man cometh to the Father but by me.' Moreover, He says to us, 'Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' And this is more particularly addressed to sinners, whose duty it is to go to Christ, and it is ours to endeavour to invite, to lead, to bring them to Him. Do you understand me, Signora?—to Him, and to Him alone, and not to the Inquisition."

"Ah! my Father," here exclaimed the Signora; "what balm you pour into my wounds! Your last words have restored me to life. It is to Christ then, and not to the Inquisition, that I shall trust my husband. Yes, my husband it is whom I am called upon to accuse, because he had spoken ill of the Pope, the Bishop, and the Priests; and had on one occasion declared that if he could be assured that the Pope was St. Peter himself, he would nevertheless spit in his face if he could. I told my confessor of this, not to accuse my husband, but to learn what course I had better pursue with him; adding, that at times he was so excited as scarcely to know the meaning of the words he uttered: but, without further inquiry, my confessor enjoined me to denounce him to the Inquisition. Finally, however, he proposed that I should do so to the Bishop; but as I would consent to neither proposition, he obtained permission from Rome that I should come to you at Viterbo, to prefer my accusation, without disclosing my name, or that the party accused was my husband. But you have shown me how far better it is that I should recommend him to the love of Christ, than to the wrath of the Inquisition. It appears that you agree with me, that in religion there cannot be any law contrary to nature. Oh, how often have I repeated on this occasion, what my husband so constantly asserts, that the priests have a religion and a morality contrary to nature! To compel a wife to accuse her husband! Is it not a demoralization? A bad wife may do so through motives of revenge; a good one would rather accuse herself. It is a base thing, in any case, to accuse a person secretly, without giving him any opportunity of exculpation, or allowing him to know who is his accuser. It is a crime that no moral duty can justify. Even the contemplation of such a step has driven me to the brink of self-destruction. But my confessor assured me that, in that case, both my husband and myself would be undoubtedly damned. And in confirmation of this, I once read, in some old work, a story of a certain woman who had refused, before her death,to make one of these disclosures; and in consequence, not only was her soul condemned to the torments of hell, but her body also found no rest in the grave, being continually forced to leave it, until, being conjured with holy water to declare the cause of its disquiet, it replied that it was so punished because it had not obeyed the injunction it had received, to accuse certain heretics to the Inquisition; but as all present earnestly prayed to the Madonna, it was granted to this unhappy body to return to life, for the space of half an hour, that it might prefer its accusation to the Inquisition; after which, it died anew."

"And do you believe this story?"

"I was unwilling to do so, but the Priest showed me that the book was printedcon licenza de' superiori. To tell the whole truth, my idea was, to obey our Holy Church, in this barbarous law, and then to commit suicide, leaving behind me a letter to my husband, explaining the motives that had led me to the act. But God be praised, I shall now neither accuse him, nor put an end to my own existence. You have doubly saved my life, in saving my honour and myconscience. God will reward you for the charity you have shown me. I shall return to my home and to my family. But what must I say to my confessor?"

"Leave him altogether. He must never know what has passed between us. Signora, I have prevented you from betraying your husband, and you tell me I have restored you to life. Will you then betray me? I do not think so. God be with you; I shall immediately burn these papers from the Inquisition, along with the letter you have brought me; and their contents will be buried in your breast."

"Oh! yes, there they shall remain, and with a lasting recollection of yourself. Farewell."

"Farewell."

In relating this story I have not hesitated about going into particulars, since no one now can injure the good lady, who is gone to her eternal rest. She lived a few years after thisadventure, and wrote to me occasionally. She died like a good Christian, loving Jesus her Redeemer, and believing in his good tidings, and detesting, with all her heart, the errors of the Church of Rome. In one of her letters she told me that her old confessor, a few months after her visit to me, came to her to inquire whether she had delivered the letter from the Inquisition; and that, fearing to compromise me, she was puzzled to find an answer. She did not so much regard her own danger, and therefore replied as follows:—"Signore, do not talk to me any more of this business: Father Achilli has too much good sense to trouble his head at all about the Inquisition: consequently, the letter found its way into the fire. What would you have me do more? For a woman I think I have done quite enough." This answer, which did not involve any falsehood, left the confessor in doubt, without furnishing him with the means of injuring either of us. He subsequently interrogated her again on this point, and all the reply he obtained was: "I know nothing about it; I have told you not to talk to me about it any more." I was myself questioned on the subject ten years afterwards, at the time I was in the Inquisition; and I got out of the affair by saying, as was the fact, that I had never received any accusation from the lady—with respect to the letter itself I was silent.

But what cruelty, what malignity does not this case reveal! To pervert the natural feelings of the heart, so as to induce a wife not only to accuse her husband, but to spy out his most secret thoughts, the very inmost of his mind, and to disclose what might peril his very life! I have only given one instance, but I could relate many more of the same character. The wife of a bricklayer, whose name I never knew, about the same time, came to me at Viterbo, to accuse her husband by order of her confessor. She came from Vitorchiano, a fief of the Roman Senate. I sent her away, however, telling her I had nothing to do with the Inquisition. Several came to me from other parts—no fewer than four or five; and all these were wives, who had come to denounce their husbands to theInquisition. I took care to give them all the same answer. And if so many cases of this sort came to my own knowledge, how many more must there have been, who applied to the Vicars themselves, or to the Inquisitors of the Holy Office!

In my time, there was a report that in Ancona two Inquisitors had seduced certain wives and daughters, in order to induce them to accuse their respective husbands and fathers. In the year 1842, in the month of September, having left the Roman States, I was at Ancona, from which place I embarked for Corfu. And it was during my stay in the former place, that an Inquisitor endeavoured to persuade two virtuous girls to accuse their uncle of some alleged profanation, in order to have a pretext for his imprisonment. The Inquisitor was angry with this honest man, because he had forbidden him his house; and thought, by throwing him into prison, to be able at all hours to visit the nieces, imagining they were favourably disposed towards him. But they were much better than he was; they threatened him with publishing his dishonest proposals, and so the matter ended. This same Inquisitor is famous for his persecution of the Jews. His edict against them, published in 1843, is known to all the world. In it all the Jews under his jurisdiction—that is, not only those of Ancona, who are very numerous, but those also of Pesaro, Osimo, Sinigaglia, Loretto, &c.—are ordered, within the term of three months, to sell all their possessions in land or houses, under penalty of confiscation; within eight days to abandon all their shops outside the Ghetto;[26]and within three days to dismiss from their houses all their Christian servants, both male and female, even the nurses of their children. They were prohibited to sleep a single night out of the Ghetto; to take a single meal, or to hold any communication with a Christian. Nay, to the shame and disgrace of the Inquisition be it spoken, these children of Israel andof Judah were even prohibited from singing the Psalms of David, in their service for the burial of their dead.

That so precious a document might not be lost, I took care to have it reprinted at Corfu, from the authentic copy that was sent to me by the Secretary of the Lord High Commissioner; and, as my readers will easily believe, I wrote my observations upon it pretty strongly, not only as to its author, but also as to the whole tribe of theInquisitori.[27]I was desirous of knowing what was generally thought to be the reason of the publication of this edict. A letter from Ancona on the subject, stated as follows:—

"The Father Inquisitor is a person of very licentious habits, and at the same time extremely greedy of money. He became offended with our women (the Jewesses) because they would not listen to his propositions; he allured, he threatened, but could never render them subservient to his desires. At length he took a fresh occasion of offence against us, because we refused to pay him a considerable sum of money which he claimed, and not for the first time; saying that his predecessor had had many such donations, that it was for that reason he had looked upon us favourably, and that, if we did not make him similar acknowledgments, we need not expect any service or consideration from him. After due deliberation upon the matter, however, it was resolved that we should not give him any thing; and now see what has happened!"

The predecessor of this personage is well known to everybody, as having extorted as much money as he possibly could, brought many respectable persons into trouble, seduced many women, and finally fled from his situation, to seek an asylum in Tuscany.

The Inquisitor of Ancona does not act differently from his brethren. Any one who wished to write a history, not of the Inquisition, but of the actual Inquisitors in the RomanStates, need only take the trouble to ask what is thought of them from Rome to Bologna; in Umbria, La Marca, Romagna; in short, wherever there is an Inquisitor or a Vicar of the Holy Office—and he will hear some extraordinary stories, which would disgrace the most scandalous chronicle.

Rome takes no notice of these reports, and winks, as the saying is, at personal immorality, to obtain that which constitutes her moral code—wealth and dominion. For dealing in immoral acts, immoral agents are necessary. Would an honest man do for an Inquisitor? Would a follower of Christ, who said, speaking of man and wife, "Whom God hath joined, let no man put asunder,"—would he sow discord between them, and demoralize the wife, to make her betray in the basest manner her own husband? Does not an Inquisitor require to be one whose heart is hardened against every gentle and social feeling, so that he may not hesitate to commit barbarities which are unknown among the most savage nations?

Are the torments which are employed at the present day at the Inquisition all a fiction? It requires the impudence of an Inquisitor, or of the Archbishop of Westminster, to deny their existence. I have myself heard these evil-minded persons lament and complain that their victims were treated with too much lenity.

"What is it you desire?" I inquired of the Inquisitor of Spoleto.

"That which St. Thomas Aquinas says," answered he: "death to all the heretics."

Hand over then to one of these people a person, however respectable; give him up to one of the Inquisitors (he who quoted St. Thomas Aquinas to me was made an Archbishop;)—give up, I say, the present Archbishop of Canterbury, amiable and pious as he is, to one of these rabid Inquisitors: he must either deny his faith or be burned alive. Is my statement false? Am I doting? Is not this the spirit that invariably actuates the Inquisitors? And not the Inquisitorsonly, but all those who in any way defile themselves with the Inquisition, such as Bishops and their Vicars, and all those who defend it, as the Papists do. There is the renowned Cardinal Wiseman, the Archbishop of Westminster, according to the Pope's creation; the same who has had the assurance to censure me from his pulpit, and to publish an infamous article in theDublin Review, in which he has raked together, as on a dunghill, every species of filth from the sons of Ignatius Loyola; nor is there lie or calumny that he has not made use of against me. Well, then, suppose I were to be handed over to the tender mercy of this Cardinal, and he had full power to dispose of me as he chose, without fear of losing his character in the eyes of the nation to which by parentage, more than by merit, he belongs; what do you imagine he would do with me? Should I not have to undergo some death more terrible than ordinary? Would not a council be held with the reverend fathers of the Company of Loyola, the same who have suggested the abominable calumnies above alluded to, in order to invent some refined method of putting me out of the world? I feel persuaded that if I were condemned by the Inquisition to be burned alive, my calumniator would have great pleasure in building up my funeral pile, and setting fire to it with his own hands; or, should strangulation be preferred, that he would, with equal readiness, tighten the cord around my neck: and all for the honour and glory of the Inquisition, of which, according to his oath, he is a true and faithful servant.

And since we are on this subject, allow me to relate a fact concerning myself, which strongly evinces the subtlety of the Inquisition, according to the practice of the Jesuits, in availing themselves, in foreign parts, of the assistance of Bishops and dignified personages.

Every one knows how miraculously I escaped a second time from the horrors of the Inquisition. All those who had any feeling rejoiced at it; and such as met with me expressedtheir satisfaction by kindness and polite attentions. In the month of January, 1850, I was at Paris, and was visited by a vast number of persons of every class, not only Protestants, but Catholics also, who expressed the interest they took in my recovered liberty. I waited upon the government ministers, and others who had assisted me, to thank them for their services; but they interrupted me by assuring me that they had done no more than follow the impulse of their own hearts and the dictates of humanity; that they had merely performed a duty; and were rejoiced to think that their interference had so well succeeded, that instead of being shut up in the prisons of the Inquisition, I was at liberty to walk about the streets of Paris as I thought proper.

In the midst of this universal pleasure, which appeared to animate all I met, and which was responded to by the public journals, I exclaimed to one of my friends:

"Observe how the voice of the whole people is with me; not a word is uttered on the contrary side, except by the journal of the Jesuits, which, to my credit be it spoken, thinks proper to abuse me in a foolish, senseless article, full of contradiction, written in the vulgarest language of the streets, or of their own sacristy, and only worthy of contempt."

One day a friend came to tell me that it appeared the Jesuits had employed some other party to vilify me.

"It is impossible," I observed, "that such an office should be undertaken by an honest and well-bred Frenchman. To insult a person who has miraculously escaped from the Inquisition! No; a true-hearted Frenchman would no more undertake such a task than he would seek to persecute one who had escaped from shipwreck or from fire, or who had evaded the hand of an assassin. To insult one freed from the Inquisition might be allowable in a Jesuit, but never in a Frenchman. What a surprise it would be to him to read, in theMessager de la Semaine, an abusive article against me, full of falsehood and calumny!"

"But you ought to reply to it," I was told; "these are no Jesuits who write, but members of the Assembly, and others who call themselves gentlemen." "I do not answer those," I replied, "who lie for the pleasure of lying and calumniating. Such writers may reply to themselves."

My friends took some trouble to discover the writer of this article, and ascertained it to proceed from the pen of a diplomatist, M. de Corcelles, the ex-minister at Rome, who had endeavoured to negotiate the return of Pius IX., but without success, and given such proofs of his devotion to the Jesuits and other priests at Rome. This M. de Corcelles, after having by his subtlety contrived the French plot against Rome herself, and tarnished the honour of his nation by a thousand falsehoods, has returned thus disgracefully to Paris, and has had the baseness to accept the task from the Jesuits themselves, of writing a miserable article against me, as mean and as black as their own garb.

It was a brilliant idea of the Inquisition to get a French diplomatist, a member of the National Assembly, to vouch for their lies; and here M. de Corcelles came forward. To strengthen his assertions, it was thought necessary to look out for some one in England also, who would corroborate them; and after six months' diligent search, as they could find no other, and were anxious not to lose more time, they got the recently created Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster to take up the pen against me. This second production was even more abusive than the first. The bishop had far less sense of shame about him than the member of the National Assembly, particularly when he had the cardinal's hat in view. It is related of Cardinal Pallavicino, the celebrated Jesuit, that being chosen by the Court of Rome to write the history of the Council of Trent, in opposition to that of Paolo Sarpi, on which occasion he was promised the rank of cardinal, the poor man suffered grievously in his mind, on account of the number of lies he had to invent; and sending for a red cap, the insignia of his future dignity, he shook itin his hand, and placing it on his head, exclaimed with bitter sighs: "Ah! how much I endure on your account!"Oh! quanta pro te patior!In like manner Dr. Wiseman, at the sight of the red hat, and all that pertains to the cardinalate, has judged it expedient to make a sacrifice of honour and truth, and to rake up the most offensive matters, to present them to his co-religionists in the British isles. The indecency and revolting nature of this article shows to what an extent the immorality and mendacity of a bishop of the Church of Rome may proceed. The documents laid before the British Consul at Rome by my friends, whilst I was in prison, proving the falsehood of the accusations laid to my charge at Viterbo, might equally be brought forward in my justification against the slander of this titled Minister of the Gospel; but it rebuts itself, in its very exaggeration. Moreover, every one who knows me knows also that I was held in high estimation by the Church of Rome, until the very day when I was handed over to the Inquisition. I had never been the subject of complaint or reproof, much less of punishment. I was on good terms with all the bishops until that time, and appointed by them to preach and to hear confessions. Indeed, I should have blamed myself had they been dissatisfied. Have I not many letters from them requesting my services? Was I not appointed to preach, during Lent, before the Court of Naples? In good sooth, it requires the brazen impudence of aMonsignore, to lie so openly and so basely.

See now the work of the Inquisition. It says to its coadjutor, "You shall have a cardinal's hat, if you raise an outcry, right or wrong, against the heretic Achilli. But you must not call him a heretic, because that term in England would not avail you; no, you must assert that he believes in nothing whatsoever; above all, you must say that he is an immoral man, addicted to all sorts of licentious habits, (a common case, you well know, in such as take the oath of celibacy). Say of him whatever evil comes into your head;no matter about time or place. Say a great deal, that a part at least may be believed. Relate suppositions as facts, and comment on your own statements. Cry out loudly, raise reports, and give them publicity. Stick at nothing; hazard whatever may tend to discredit your adversary. In this way you will weaken his endeavours. What can he do to vindicate himself? Does he bring you into court? Shall you have to pay a fine?—Double the amount will be raised to pay it. Are you thrown into prison?—Call to mind the martyr of Turin. In short, earn a cardinal's hat"!!

The temptation is too powerful for a bishop of the Church of Rome. It is in this manner that the Inquisition manages its affairs throughout the whole world, and works so as to gain its ends, by promises and threats, by fraud and subterfuge.

FOOTNOTES:[26]The Ghetto is a part of the city, enclosed within walls, in which the Jews are confined. It exists in every city of the Roman States.[27]See the Edict from this Inquisitor in the Appendix, together with my observations upon it.

[26]The Ghetto is a part of the city, enclosed within walls, in which the Jews are confined. It exists in every city of the Roman States.

[27]See the Edict from this Inquisitor in the Appendix, together with my observations upon it.

THE PROTEUS-LIKE CHARACTER OF THE INQUISITION, BOTH IN ANCIENT AND MODERN TIMES.

WhenI asserted that the Inquisition had never undergone any change, that as it existed in the time of its founder, Innocent III., so it continued in the days of its renowned legislator, Paul IV., and in those of the fierce persecutors of good Christians, Pius V. and Gregory XII., and that we find it still preserving the same character, in our own time, under Gregory XVI. and Pius IX., I did not intend to lead my readers to suppose that it invariably, after having arranged its plans and established its system of laws, carried on its operations with the same uniform regularity; and in undeviating exactitude pursued its unchanging course, however baleful, with the steady progress of a planet in its orbit, without ever deviating from it in the smallest possible degree. No, such was not the idea I intended to give. In its spirit it has always been the same, and its laws have never undergone any change; but nothing is more varied, more uncertain, more changeable, than the manner in which it has acted to attain its purposes. With the same spirit and the same laws, the Inquisition of Rome is, nevertheless, different from that of Spain, and the Inquisition of the nineteenth century greatly varies from that of the three preceding centuries. The slaughter of the Albigenses and the Waldenses, that of the Moors, and the massacre of St. Bartholomew, are events, so similar to each other, that whoever has read of the first is little astonished at the second or thethird. But between the perpetration of these acts it was expedient that at least the period of a century should intervene, in order that the people might have time to recover from the shock they had experienced, and be induced to receive fresh arguments in favour of a repetition of the same enormity. In the meanwhile a thousand other events took place of a totally different character. For example, Pius V., while he was burning his heretics in Rome, or drowning them in the Lagoons of Venice, while he persecuted the Moors in Spain, and sent his bands to destroy the Jews, made himself patron of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, who, after having been driven out of Rhodes, were dispersed abroad in various parts; he obtained for them the island of Malta; and lavished his bounty upon them with unsparing hand, in order that they might fortify themselves on that rock. Now what did these Knights of Malta become? The pirates of the Inquisition, founded by Dominic di Guzman. Yes; these crusaders, who assumed to themselves the title of Christian Knights, ended by becoming a pack of plundering blood-hounds, ever on the alert to hunt out their victims, and who, even now, do not blush to acknowledge themselves as theFamiliarsof the Inquisition; though so dishonourable do they know their trade to be, that they are obliged to carry it on under the mask of secrecy. But these heroes who still keep up the empty title of Knights of Malta, ingloriously end their degenerate career in the ante-chambers of the Vatican, as the Pope's guards; for the Holy Office, when they are too old for more active service, no longer takes any care of them, nor does it allow them the smallest pension. Many Roman institutions have in the same manner flourished and fallen away; others, although useless, still continue, through a difficulty in getting rid of them.

It is now about four centuries since Rome instituted monkish and knightly orders for the service of the Inquisition. The necessity for them was first found out after the Council of Constance, and increased after that of Trent.Martin V. was too dissipated to trouble himself much about it, but his successor, Pius II., who had witnessed the death of John Huss and Jerome of Prague, and who clearly saw the danger that threatened the Church of Rome, in the spirit and the voice that arose from the ashes of those holy men, felt himself called upon, in the year 1459, to institute an order of knighthood to be called after the name of Jesus, whose employment should be to war against the Turks, for in those days all were so called, who did not venerate the Church of Rome. Accordingly under such pretext they undertook to wage war against heretics of every description, whom, according to the Christian charity of the popes, it was their duty to exterminate. This order was not pleasing to Paul II. and was consequently abolished: but Alexander VI., that well-known monster of profligacy and crime, raised up a fresh body of knights, for the service of the Inquisition, which he placed under the protection of St. George, in the year 1492. These heroes could do no less than imitate the example of their unprincipled founder, and, in a very short time, gained for themselves an undesirable renown, for their deeds of the most abominable licentiousness. The succeeding Pope, however, laid them on the shelf. Leo X., in the year 1520, came forward with a new order of knights, under the patronage of St. Peter. It is well known that this pope lost no opportunity of putting this favourite saint of his forward, on all occasions where money was to be made of him. It was for the building of the church that bears his name that indulgences were sent for sale, into Germany and Switzerland. The new knights limited their services to the collecting of money for St. Peter, that is to say, for the Pope; this degraded order, however, soon died of decline. Paul III. felt more than any one the evils that were likely to arise from the Council of Trent, and the danger of what was called "reviving heresy:" in order therefore, to give greater activity to the Inquisition, he founded an order of chivalry, under the title of St. George of Ravenna, in the year 1538,the nominal duty of which was to war against heretics, but its real object was to renew the sanguinary scenes acted under Innocent III., and to repeat in Germany the slaughters of Dauphiny, Languedoc and Navarre. Fortunately, however, this pope became involved in a dispute respecting the celebrated exchange of the duchy of Parma and Plaisance, in favour of his natural son, Peter Lewis Farnese, and consequently, the Knights of St. George had to pacify the minds of those who were offended at such robbery and injustice; but it was found that this single order was not sufficiently powerful for the purpose, wherefore another was created in 1542, called the Order of the Lily, in order to reward such as readily submitted to the Papal authority in that matter.

But in the meanwhile the Reformers gained ground; Luther in Germany, and Zwinglius in Switzerland, made great progress. Paul III. had need of a society to oppose them; his knights were no longer equal to the task—it was impossible to resist, by force of arms, so rapid and wide-spreading an influence. Charles V., if he did not openly declare himself a reformer, was but little favourable to Rome; and Duke Frederic of Saxony, the most esteemed prince in Germany, was an open convert to Protestantism. It appeared necessary, therefore, that a society should be formed, which should present itself to the world as a religious body, to act in favour of the Holy See. A Spanish knight, weary of the occupation of war, and disgusted at the treachery of his mistress, had at that time offered up his sword on the altar of the Virgin, and devoted himself to her service, and he soon proved himself a fit champion for the necessities of the times. This Spanish knight was no other than Ignatius Loyola, who came to Rome in the year 1540, and became the founder of a religious order which, for the purpose of captivating the imagination of the whole Christian world, and to gain universal homage, assumed the title ofThe Company of Jesus! Every one would have thought that this order would have been of thesame description as that which was founded a short time before by Gaetano Tiene, and that which soon afterwards owed its origin toGiuseppeCalassanzio. Now it is the deceptive policy of the Inquisition to make it appear that these knightly orders are for the purpose of defending Christians from the attacks of infidels; and also for the education of youth. But without doubt, the sole object of this grand piece of machinery is entirely the upholding of the papacy; indeed, the whole body of knights, as well as of friars, are nothing more nor less than servants of the Pope. In illustration of this fact, we read in the history of Pius IV., that in the year 1560, he founded an order of knighthood, under the title of St. John Lateran, and that the principal duty these heroes had to perform was that of carrying His Holiness on their shoulders, seated in his chair of state, with the privilege of kissing his most sacred foot, both before and after the ceremony. In subjecting his nobles to this degrading office, the Pope wisely considered that he was preparing them for the performance of any servile act that the future exigencies of His Holiness might require. The Roman people, however, turned the cross-bearing knights into ridicule, calling them Knights of the Foot, and the Pope saw with dissatisfaction that the order did not prosper. He determined, therefore, to invest them with fresh dignity, and decreed that every knight in service should also enjoy the title of Count Palatine, with the privilege of creating doctors in every department of science. This succeeded for a time; the knightly Counts were content to submit their shoulders to the sacred burden, and kiss the foot they carried; but the sarcasms of the Romans proved more powerful than the titles and honours of the Pope; the knights began greatly to disrelish their occupation, insomuch that the successor of Paul was obliged to stipend his titled porters still more liberally, or run the risk of not being carried at all.

Another curious fact connected with our subject may here be related. Pope Sixtus V. had, or pretended to have, a firmbelief in the miracle of the Holy House of Loretto, which was stated to have occurred shortly before his time. Now many persons, with the Bishop of Recanati, a town a little way from Loretto, at their head, absolutely denied that such an event as that the house should have flown through the air, from Nazareth to Dalmatia, and finally to Loretto, had ever taken place. But the Pope was determined to uphold the truth of the miracle, and created an order of knights expressly to maintain and defend its authenticity; this was in the year 1586, and the order was named after the town of Loretto. Every knight, therefore, was bound to draw his sword in its defence, and to challenge to single combat whoever should venture to impugn its veracity. They were chiefly selected from the inhabitants of the province signalized by the event. This order continued in existence about a century, after which lapse of time, as no one appeared to think it worth his while to contend with Rome on the subject of the imposture, it was considered as useless, and was no longer kept up.

While these knightly orders were instituted on one hand, on the other, many fresh monastic bodies were established, under new denominations, and with different dresses; all, however, were employed by the Church of Rome to uphold her doctrines and her practice, even to fanaticism. If they were not both equally injurious to society, the only difference was that the one was dreaded from its open use of the sword, whilst the other excited fear from its secret machinations; as servants to the Inquisition they were all obedient alike.

And now a word or two with respect to these secret machinations which hitherto, it seems, people have been afraid to talk about. The monks, whether to their credit or not I leave others to decide, have proved themselves more doughty champions than the knights; inasmuch as the latter could never stand against ridicule, whereas the former have braved and overcome it; they have even derived strength from it:their disciples, moreover, are expressly taught to despise it, and through a long course of years a generation of men has been trained up, who are appalled by no dangers or difficulties, and are capable of confronting every obstacle, in the service of Rome.

The first experiment under this audacious system was made in the 13th century, when that knave Innocent III. bestowed on his church the renowned Order of St. Francis of Assisi. This holy brotherhood understood better than any other in the whole world how to live well at the public expense, without any possessions of their own, and without ever incurring labour or fatigue. The first principle they inculcate in their order is, that there is no disgrace in the act of begging.Fratres nostri non erubescant.Clothed with a coarse garment, bound round their waist with cord, with sandalled feet and shaven crowns, dirty and greasy, they are truly as lawful objects of ridicule, to all who behold them, as the grossest cynic was to the enlightened Athenians. Little, however, do they regard it; there are even among them not a few who imagine they present an engaging appearance in their strange garb, and pretend they would not exchange it for the gayer costume of the cavaliers. The Franciscans attach so much importance to their dress, that their rules enjoin the penalty of excommunication to any one who lays aside the holy vestment, or cuts off the sacred beard. It is considered a mortal sin for aCapuchinto assume the guise of aZoccolante, andvice versâ. This prohibition is equally in force with respect to all the monkish orders, and the neglect of it is considered as a species of apostasy.

When human beings are reduced to such fanaticism, both in principle and in practice, it is not to be wondered at if they are capable of any crime they may imagine it their duty to commit. The obedience a monk owes to his superior is more absolute than that of the soldier to his commanding officer, inasmuch as it wears the cloak of religion; the monk considers himself a spiritual soldier, and his obedience isbased in superstition. Moreover, every monastic institution is a secret society, and a true monk should have the genius of a conspirator. He should love his own order before any other, and be ready to shed his blood in its defence. Every institution has its own particular saints. The Franciscan sees in St. Francis and St. Anthony the first saints in the whole world, the most favoured by the Virgin Mary, and the most fruitful in miracles; and on the other hand, the Dominican considers his St. Dominic and St. Vincent the paragons, thene plus ultraof all sanctity and miracle-working. St. Dominic is not merely termed holy, he is denominated the most holy;Sanctissimus Pater Dominicus. Take one of these worthies, then, stolid by nature and rendered more so by his education, and place before him any sort of disgraceful work, and see if the Church of Rome will not be fully satisfied with her disciple.

From these societies the subtle and busy instruments for the extension of the Papal power have been selected; and by their means has Rome preserved her influence over the conscience, and extended her work of proselytism.

The knights, on the contrary, enjoyed too much liberty to remain long in the service of the priests. It was, therefore, often contemplated to unite the knightly with the monastic life; thus the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem considered themselves partly a military and partly a monastic order. Many professed chastity, poverty and obedience, and sometimes a fourth vow was added, that of making war against the infidels. But all this was insufficient to bring them completely under subjection; a life of still greater mortification was necessary, in order to humiliate and degrade the individual, and render him a mere automaton; and this was a life purely monastic. Whoever professes it, if he be sincere, ought to possess no faculty of willing or understanding, apart from that of his superiors; to whatever order he belongs he must bring himself to the persuasion that there is no hope for him in the mercy of heaven, unless he be obedient tothem; who alone, according to the Romish doctrine, are responsible for his acts. At the last dread tribunal he believes it will only be demanded of him, has he been obedient?—this is all he has to look to; he who gives the order is alone answerable for its justice or its iniquity. Such is the teaching that these degraded beings are accustomed to receive. What its results are we need only look round those countries where it is most extensively carried on, to determine.

Now these so-called superiors ascend by regular degrees, and at their head is the Pope himself. An order emanating from him, quickly extends, by means of these subordinates, into any direction he chooses, through all its ramifications. Every one knows that his ministers amount to several hundreds of thousands, all belonging to the same system, sworn to obedience, and ready to undertake whatever may be required of them.

I will frankly confess my own private opinion of this organization. Doubtless it was planned by men of consummate ability. It is a diabolical invention to effect the greatest possible mischief. And such was the intention of the three or four popes who had a hand in its formation. Providentially for society, the succeeding ones were men of inferior genius, and did not see all its advantages. With respect to the present time, I should imagine there is little danger, as these gentry no longer enjoy the same credit as they did formerly. Moreover, in those countries where papistical doctrines predominate, the monks are held in the greatest disrepute: at least it is so in Italy, where they are well known; and I believe the case is the same in Spain. With respect to France, it is a matter of regret that they have renewed their former influence in that country, which, since the revolution of 1850, has become the reproach of Europe. Who would have believed that she would not only grant an asylum to Jesuits, but also become their defender and their partizan? It is, however, to be hoped that such a state of things cannot last long; and that this nation may at length recover fromher delirium. This hope is founded on the conviction that he cannot in reality but detest the Papacy, which, at the present juncture, actually excites in the people no other sentiment than infidelity in everything pertaining to religion.

Now, with regard to England, so great was the enthusiasm of her Reformation in the fourteenth century, and such was the spirit of the people, and so firm their laws, that Rome had no longer any hope of regaining the country she had lost. Had it not been for Ireland, she would as soon have thought of establishing her empire in Jerusalem and Antioch, as in London or Edinburgh. Nevertheless, her hopes once more revived, on perceiving the good effects of her operations in 1829. The Emancipation Bill, in the estimation of Rome, opened the door for her return into England; and it was conjectured that in about thirty years, by adopting every possible means, the "good old times," such as they were in the early part of the reign of Henry VIII., might return.

The plan was no secret; in fact, about the same time the Jesuits renewed their operations. Pius VIII. was pope; a good old man enough in private life, but a great stickler for the Council of Trent. It was a serious grief to him that thissacro-santoCouncil was not law to the whole world. He was what the Romans call a good Canonist; indeed he was of opinion that the Canon Laws were the greatest possible blessing that the bounty of the Deity had ever bestowed upon mankind. And if such were his real opinion, independent of any personal interest or bias, no doubt he meant well in maintaining it. The Catholic Emancipation Act, therefore, quickly inspired him with the consolatory idea, that he should soon be able to introduce the Canon Laws of the Council of Trent into this kingdom, which, according to his view, was already preparing a return to Rome.

The Congregation of the Propaganda at the same time naturally fostered the idea of establishing a hierarchy of bishops and archbishops, in order to govern the Church ofEngland according to the Romish laws. The project was a daring one, but there was work to do beforehand. Every colonist, before he plants, begins by preparing the soil. In like manner England had to be prepared to receive a Romish hierarchy. I imagine it was in the policy of Pius VIII. to prepare this ground in a better manner than it has been done by Pius IX. With another ten years of Jesuitical labour, their attempt would probably have obtained a better result, at least according to their own opinion; but it has pleased the Lord to confound their councils.

In what does this work of preparation consist? The grand secret of the Inquisition, the labour of the Jesuits, is to employ every means in their power that is most likely to secure their end. All the world knows that in the moral code of the Jesuits, which is also that of the Court of Rome, it is maintained that, provided the end sought be a holy and religious one, of which they make themselves the sole judge,ALLmeanswhatever are good and lawful; and the reason, according to the doctrine of Thomas Aquinas, is, that our actions take their character from the end we have in view. Now the means employed to prepare England to receive the ecclesiastical hierarchy, with the Council of Trent, and the Canon Laws, on which her conversion depends,—the means, I say, are truth or falsehood, as may best serve; promises and threats, secret gifts, and hidden treachery; exaggerated praises to their friends, and the foulest calumny to those they believe to be their enemies. These are the means which the Inquisition invariably employs, in order to gain its end.

With respect to preparing England for the latecoup de main, it was deemed expedient to arrange a grand Jesuitical mission to the two universities of Oxford and Cambridge. How well this mission succeeded, it is needless for me to bring proof. It is an acknowledged fact, that a number of clergymen of the Church of England have seceded to theChurch of Rome since the year 1829. The rise and progress of Tractarianism and Puseyism, and the actual state of affairs, must be well known to all my readers. How many good-hearted people in England are now lamenting over the wounds that have been inflicted on their unhappy Church! God grant that they may one day,—and that day no distant one,—be healed!

Let us now inquire what the Roman Propaganda has achieved in this country from the year 1829 to 1850. It established, in the first instance, four apostolic vicariates, and subsequently, four others. The first four were entitled, "the district of London, the Western, the Central or Midland, and the Northern District:" the other four were established in the year 1840, and received the names of "the Eastern, Welsh, Lancaster, and York Districts." The eight bishops attached to these districts carried on their operations under the immediate directions and superintendence of the Propaganda—the principal organ of the Inquisition; and their schemes went on quietly enough, until some among them, more ambitious than the rest, and not calculating the danger there might be of losing all the fruits of their previous labour, took advantage of the Pope's weakness, and the ignorance of the greater portion of the cardinals, and hurried matters on to the termination of the plot which was not originally intended to explode so soon. The effect of this precipitation, however, has been to render their measures for the conversion of England altogether abortive. Providence, in its all-wise purposes, influenced a certain Doctor Wiseman, whose ambition of being created a cardinal had long tormented his soul, to lead the weak mind of Pius IX. to commit the egregious blunder which has ruined the whole scheme laboured at by the Romish Church, and the poor Jesuits, with so much toil and perseverance, to bring to perfection.

I call it ruining the whole scheme, since the object was to go on secretly with the work, until the fit opportunity should arrive, when all the preparations should be complete, and men's minds sufficiently prepared for thedenouement. Ifthey could have continued their Jesuitical operations at the two universities for another ten years, the doctrines of the English clergy, and the Liturgy of the Church of England would have become altogether papistic. These delightful Tractarians, full of affection for the sister church, as they term that of Rome—full of admiration for the magnificence of her rites and ceremonies—impressed with respect for her worldly authority, and with veneration for her assumed apostolic succession, would readily have bowed to auricular confession, and would have admitted their belief in the real presence, and consequently in the efficacy of the sacrifice of the mass. As to the vow of celibacy, there were hopes held out that the Pope might be induced to modify it; so that there should no longer be any obstacle in the way of a complete fusion of the two churches, provided his holiness would recognise the English hierarchy. Such, until the present outbreak, were the dreams of the Puseyites.

But instead of all this, the whole affair is lost through the folly of the Pope and the ambition of Dr. Wiseman! An injudicious bull, in an unlucky moment, gave premature existence to the famous hierarchy; and, to complete the blunder, elevated the primate to the rank of cardinal. Not even in any Catholic country can Rome create a cardinal without the consent of the monarch, neither can she send bishops without the permission of the government: otherwise, they would be speedily sent back. In other Protestant countries, the affair is settled by treaty; but no such precaution exists with respect to England: still no pope, who had a grain of sense, would ever have dared to send to it, in so unlooked-for a moment, and without any previous notice, a batch of twelve bishops, with a cardinal at their head! Could a greater insult be offered, or a mark of more supreme contempt? By it the Pope has turned the English Government into ridicule, ignored the Anglican Church, and declared that he alone is the spiritual head of the country, and that he will govern it accordingly. It is, therefore, assuredly thepart of England to give the Pope a proper reply to his arrogance, and not only to show a just resentment of the present insult, but at the same time to prevent its ever occurring again.

Now what has been the conduct of the Inquisition with respect to England? What has the cabal of Jesuits been about? Whenever Rome expects to meet with opposition, she invariably has recourse to indirect means to gain her ends. For example, it is her object to overthrow the Church of England. She conducts her operations in a twofold manner,—by endeavouring to pervert its ministers, and by exciting them to hostilities against the Dissenters. Indeed, the conflicting spirit between the two parties is greatly aggravated by the increasing corruption of the clergy. Within the last twenty years the Church of England has experienced immense losses, without knowing from what part her enemyassailedher. And now that the Jesuitism is discovered, what attempts are not made to conceal its existence! Up to 1850 it was the fashion for the clergy of the High Church party to profess Puseyism. I have frequently been shocked by hearing sermons from reverends and right reverends, openly in favour of Romish doctrines. At the present moment, however, they are all ashamed of having appeared to favour them. The bishops, who at first boldly advocated Tractarianism, both in doctrine and practice, are now as zealous in opposing it, and the journals are full of their correspondence with such of their clergy as have publicly been accused of Puseyism.

All this is most skilfully turned to account by the Jesuit Propaganda, who regularly correspond with, and receive their instructions from, the Inquisition at Rome. The English bishops, without being aware of it, have in their train their missionary from Rome, who, although he may not belong,ipso facto, to the company of Ignatius Loyola, is nevertheless in essence a rank Jesuit; and may probably be one of their own clergy, nay, even their own private secretary. Who shall saysuch emissaries are not to be found also in the public offices of the Government, nay, in the very court of her Majesty, the Queen of these realms? The Jesuits find their way into the highest society in the kingdom, introduced by foreign ministers, who place them in families as tutors and teachers of languages. I myself know several Italians who profess to teach, who call themselves liberals, in fact, who state that they are my intimates; and with such pretences they get into respectable families with whom I am acquainted, who consequently trust to them, receive them into their houses, invite them to their tables, and allow them to converse with their children. Many of these are Jesuits, or their friends, who are recommended by them. It is to be noted that among the Italians at present in London, who teach their own language, the partisans of the Jesuits are they who are the most encouraged, get the most pupils, and receive the highest payment. So that it frequently happens that the worthless and the ignorant find abundance of employment, whilst the deserving and the learned starve, for want of anything to do.

The Jesuits secretly spread the most atrocious calumnies against those who oppose them, whilst others they load with extravagant praise. For example, there are a few Italians here in London, who, like myself, have, through conviction of its errors, abandoned the Church of the Popes and the Jesuits. We are all of us loaded with abuse, and persecuted in every possible manner; I in particular am the butt for all their shafts. According to their representations, I have been guilty of all imaginable crimes, but of these crimes no proof whatever is offered; even witnesses suborned for the purpose have failed to establish them. For my own part, I have treated my slanderers with disdainful silence; others, however, have taken up my cause. A Cardinal, who is at the head of these calumniators, has had the lie publicly given to him. Any but a Cardinal or a Jesuit would have been indignant at such an accusation.

I mention these things to show what is the work of the Inquisition now going on in this country. Here they cannot imprison men, or torture them, or burn them alive; still they have lies, calumnies, and treachery to resort to; they sow discord among families, separate friends, and everywhere foment dissension and strife. They are unable to destroy Protestantism in England, but they excite the various religious sects to wage war among themselves, and then declare, in the face of all Europe, that the Protestants of England and Scotland endeavour to destroy each other. How often have I heard it said in Italy, "Oh! the Protestants cannot exist much longer; they are perpetually at variance among themselves; they will be ruined by their own dissensions." But the Divine Providence will protect them from this fate, however artfully their enemies endeavour to keep their disagreements alive. Still all this discord has considerably weakened the Reformers, and retarded their progress; and if the Jesuits have not succeeded in attaining their desired object, it is not because their plans were not well arranged, or their mode of carrying them out effective, but simply because the Almighty has willed it otherwise.

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