FOOTNOTES:

——"Cui lecta potenter erit res,Nec facundia deseret hunc, nec lucidus ordo."

——"Cui lecta potenter erit res,

Nec facundia deseret hunc, nec lucidus ordo."

My preaching was originally commenced, as is customary with all students in religion, with the study of rhetoric; and was limited by certain rules, which teach the manner of arranging the various parts of an oration: hence I at first experienced a sort of vain glory in my pursuit, and panted to acquire the fame of an eloquent orator; but I afterwards changed my style, when I became convinced that a sacred speaker ought to be governed rather by the influence of the Holy Spirit than by rules of art; I therefore applied myself more to prayer than to study, and my discourses became less brilliant, but more efficacious. Any one who had heard me preach at these different epochs would readily have perceived the change I speak of, though he might not have understood the reason of it. My first attempts aimed at great elegance of style, and I was ambitious to be thought an able writer. My sermons at the Court of Lucca were of this character: I was then about twenty years of age, and had not yet been ordained priest. Persons of high distinction were among my auditors; among whom I may reckon Lazaro Papi, the Marquess Cesare Lucchesini, Professor Gigliotti, and the famous personages, Teresa Bandettini and Costanza Moscheni. I was honoured with their friendship, and they approved of my pulpit-labours. Alas for me! How little at that time had I been educated in the school of the Redeemer! The favour of men was all I sought after. By degrees, however, I began to perceive that all this was vanity.

From Lucca I proceeded to Rome, and from thence to Viterbo. My preaching had much improved; it had less display, and was more suitable to its design. I reserved my flowers of eloquence for panygeric orations, (which in my then darkened state greatly occupied me,) and began to be more grave and sedate in my style. On my removal to Naples, these feelings increased, as I thought, more deeply on matters of true religion, and my sermons assumed an evangelical tone, which was agreeable to persons of talent; and I was perfectly indifferent as to the opinion of those who disliked it.

The last of my Lent duties, that at the church of St. Giacomo, at Naples, was the actual commencement of my new style. I gave a series of thirty-seven discourses, in which I not only avoided all papistic doctrines, but set forth those contained in the Scriptures themselves; such as justification by faith, the sole mediation of Christ, his only priesthood, and single sacrifice, &c. These were entirely new views in a country where nothing else was taught than the efficacy of works of merit, the intercession of saints, the pretended dignity of the priests, the great value of the mass applied to souls in purgatory, and the necessity of worshipping the Madonna.

I saw very clearly that my advocating anew the practice enjoined in the ancient and holy teaching of our forefathers, would excite the fiercest animosity against me. I began to hear it rumoured about that my sermons were more Protestant than Catholic; I received several anonymous letters on the subject; and as at that time I preached every Sunday in the church of St. Peter the Martyr, I saw many priests among my congregation, who had very much the look of spies. Notwithstanding all this, I stuck to my argument, and continued to preach in the same style the doctrine of early Christianity; bringing texts from Scripture alone, in support of my propositions, rarely citing the Fathers, and never the Theologians of the Romish Church.

The altered character of my discourses soon gave rise to many conferences among the bigots of the Neapolitan clergy, and to many letters from Rome. The Cardinal Archbishop asked me one day if it was true that these conferences and letters had reference to the new doctrines I was advocating.

"They are new," I replied, "in the same manner that the moon every fresh month is called new, though she is nevertheless as old as the world."

"But they assert that you no longer preach the necessity of good works, faith alone being sufficient."

"That is not exactly the case; I stated that works are not good, unless they are the fruits of faith, and that others are of no avail; as St. Paul says, 'Whatsoever is not of faith is sin,'[87]which signifies all disorder and deviation from the right road."

On another occasion the good Cardinal reproved me because I had asserted in one of my sermons, that the most beneficial mode of confession was that which was made to God; and the best penitence a sincere renewal of the heart, and a humble return to Him.

"It is very true," was my reply, "and if your Eminence calls upon me to prove it, I am ready to do so from the Holy Scriptures."

"There is no necessity: your proposition may be true, abstractedly considered—that is to say, viewed theoretically; but in practice you would not find it so useful."

"I understand; it would not be so useful to the priests and the confessors, but greatly more so to the people. If everybody was in the habit of confessing to God alone, what necessity would there be for such a host of priestly confessors? But the question is, not what we ourselves prefer, but what we ought to teach the people. I wish to God that every one would confess to his priest less, and tohis God more; as our fathers had the grace to do in former times."

I paused, but the Cardinal, not having a reply ready, remained silent. I therefore continued:

"Your Eminence has already shown me so much kindness, that I am encouraged to lay open my mind more fully. Is it not a fact, that in no other place is there so great a herd of confessors as at Naples? What now is their real object? Your Eminence will tell me that it is to listen to a recital of sins, and to give absolution for them; but I maintain that their real object is to get money; and it is more notoriously the case in Naples than elsewhere. The predecessor of your Eminence, Cardinal Ruffo, when he conferred the office of Confessor on any one, used to say, 'There, my dear fellow, there's a good fifteen ducats a month for you, if you know how to go to work!'

"Now I happen to know that his hint was not thrown away: the least industrious among them get their fifteen ducats, and as to the others!—ask the confessors of the nuns what they gain by their business. I do not mean to say that they require payment for an absolution, that would be too barefaced. They do not sell, but they accept gifts; if not for themselves, for the souls in purgatory, or for some miraculous image, for which they require masses and other oblations. Is it not true that they impose, as a penance, the obligation to cause a number of masses to be celebrated? And to whose pecuniary benefit, if not the confessor's? And in cases of deathbeds, how vast is the speculation of these gentry! Let your Eminence look to the operations of the Jesuits in this line of business; to the Missionaries, to the Liguorini, to the Theatines, the Franciscans, the Dominicans, and other worthies of the same class, who despoil houses, impoverish families, and frequently turn mother and children out of doors, destitute and forlorn. These evils, as your Eminence knows far better than I do, are the results of the practice of confession. I would that your heartwere equally pained as mine is, by the reflection. Although I have not the authority of a bishop in this place, still, if I were silent on the occasion, I should consider myself as guilty of favouring the practice. Much more is required of him who is in reality the pastor of this flock, who has assumed the office of watching over it, and to whom are addressed the words that were spoken to Timothy: 'I charge thee ... preach the Word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort, with all longsuffering and doctrine.'"[88]

Cardinal Caracciolo wrung my hand, and exclaimed, with a sigh: "Oh! what a hard trial it is to be a bishop! What a burthen on one's shoulders! I see many evils in the Church, and would fain apply a remedy to them, but I know not how."

Naples, in point of religion, is an extraordinary country; the inhabitants themselves believe that they have more than the whole world besides; and such indeed would be the fact, if superstition were synonymous with religion. No people upon the whole earth are more superstitious. All the old superstitions of Greece and Rome have taken refuge among them. Idolatry is the foundation of their faith; they have no idea of worship without some statue or picture to bow down to. A God that is not visible to the eye is altogether unknown to them, or exists as a king whom no one is allowed to approach. The God of the Neapolitans has consequently a vast number of ministers, to whom supplication is made. At the time I am speaking of, they had no less than fifty Patron Saints, and I have no doubt the number is now greatly augmented. Every one of these saints has his own state ministers. At the head of them all is St. Januarius, who acts as their president. But this does not exclude St. Gaetano to be prayed to, as a sort of Minister of Finance, who is considered to be in the department of the Divine Providence. Theministry of Grace and Justice appear to be divided between St. Anthony, St. Vincent, and St. Andrew Avellino. The Jesuits endeavoured to foist St. Francis Xavier and St. Louis Gonzaga into this office as well, but they are not considered to have succeeded.

St. Januarius, who, like John Bull, may be looked upon as the prototype of his countrymen, both with respect to their good and bad qualities, has a sort of jealous feeling towards others, and more particularly towards the Jesuits; since it appears he considers them as likely to interfere with his dignity. He is sometimes thought to be a little vindictive, choleric and presumptuous; on which account the Neapolitans occasionally reprove him, and not over gently, in their devotions. I scarcely think a pure and spiritual religion would be possible in this country, where all is so material and so sensual. I have often considered the problem, and am inclined to doubt its practicability, at least with respect to the present generation. They are a people perpetually on the look-out for miracles, and consequently flock round their saints and their madonnas, since the priests assure them that they perform wonders in that way. In their belief, a religion without its daily stock of miracles is no religion at all. I have sometimes heard them discoursing together respecting the Protestant religion, and they have declared that they could not see how there could be a religion without saints to work miracles. They are a people who do not readily believe anything but what is incredible, and repugnant to common sense; so that the more improbable the miracle is, the more willingly it is credited.Il prodigio o è grosso o è niente, is a common saying with them; small doings are not worthy of great saints.

In the midst of this ignorant race, born and educated in the grossest errors and prejudices, there exists a class of persons who do not believe in the superstitions of the vulgar, as they call these pretended miracles of St. Januarius and other saints; neither in the inventions of purgatory and similarstories; having read in some book, or heard some one affirm, that they are no better than fables; but, unhappily, they also extend their unbelief to all that is related of Christ and of his Apostles, and in fact assert that all these writings might be tied together, and thrown into the fire, as old and worthless.

These are the learned, people of genius, who go to church merely to gratify the sight, or to delight the ear with harmony; and who kneel before the reliques and the images in a procession, for the sake of appearance, as they term it. They go to confession at Easter, to deceive the priest into a belief of their piety, and receive the communion that they may escape censure. As lying and hypocritical as they are unbelieving and immoral, they form a very extensive class, most injurious to society in a thousand different ways; chiefly because being, as they are, without faith in religious matters, they are equally void of it in social affairs: and being weak-minded, through continual falsehood, they are mean in all their undertakings; timid and pusillanimous, with a mixture of irritability and rashness. In morality they are monsters of depravity, and this miserable land abounds with such persons more at this present time than ever; in the face of its glorious sun it is covered with the thickest darkness.

Between these two extremes of the direst superstition and utter unbelief, is there for these people no middle path of religion, of pure early Christianity? God alone knows. I have sometimes persuaded myself that there must be such; I have again doubted, and again I have returned to my former hope—at any rate I will not despair of it. Christian charity, and trust in God's mercy and providence, alike forbid me so to do.

FOOTNOTES:[75]"The Most Illustrious and Most Reverend Cardinals require a most illustrious and a most reverend reformation."[76]In the cemetery near to these bones, a broken stone was found, on which was to be read the following inscription:—Lumena in Pace☧ Fi ... Don Francesco, on the authority of the sacristan, had no doubt the wordFilumenawas signified by the Fi....[77]Matt. xi. 28.[78]John xiv. 6.[79]Matt. xv. 14.[80]The same question might be asked with respect to the late pretended miracle of the image of the Virgin at Rimini moving its eyes. A shameless imposture, honoured by Pio Nono with the institution of an annual festival in its commemoration![81]1 Tim. iii. 1.[82]Matt. xx. 25, 26.[83]For six hundred years it had never happened that the General of the Order had been dismissed by the Pope. It was the contrivance of a few ambitious friars, among whom Monsignor O'Finan, Bishop of Killala, in Ireland, was the most active.[84]See the letter in the Appendix.[85]Matt, vi. 15.[86]Luke xvii. 3, 4.[87]Rom. xiv. 23.[88]2 Tim. iv. 1, 2.

[75]"The Most Illustrious and Most Reverend Cardinals require a most illustrious and a most reverend reformation."

[76]In the cemetery near to these bones, a broken stone was found, on which was to be read the following inscription:—Lumena in Pace☧ Fi ... Don Francesco, on the authority of the sacristan, had no doubt the wordFilumenawas signified by the Fi....

[77]Matt. xi. 28.

[78]John xiv. 6.

[79]Matt. xv. 14.

[80]The same question might be asked with respect to the late pretended miracle of the image of the Virgin at Rimini moving its eyes. A shameless imposture, honoured by Pio Nono with the institution of an annual festival in its commemoration!

[81]1 Tim. iii. 1.

[82]Matt. xx. 25, 26.

[83]For six hundred years it had never happened that the General of the Order had been dismissed by the Pope. It was the contrivance of a few ambitious friars, among whom Monsignor O'Finan, Bishop of Killala, in Ireland, was the most active.

[84]See the letter in the Appendix.

[85]Matt, vi. 15.

[86]Luke xvii. 3, 4.

[87]Rom. xiv. 23.

[88]2 Tim. iv. 1, 2.

THE MONKS OF NAPLES.

Separatedfrom human ties, apart from the laws of nature, there is no race of beings, in my estimation, so useless to society, so immoral, and so absurd, in a religious point of view, as they who call themselves monks. The Jesuits are monks, as well as those instituted by St. Francis of Assisi; both have the same very small degree of worth, and the same defects. I used to believe that the monks reckoned among their virtues kindness, gentleness, humility, and moderation; I imagined that they were full of charity towards their neighbour; and believing nothing of them but what was good, I thought when I entered into their society I should be living among saints. Who would have supposed that all their imaginary virtues should fade before my eyes, from the moment I became bound to them by vows which prevented my return? Every day the pleasant delusion became less and less, and bitter experience continually operated to undeceive me, at various periods of my sojourn among them.

I had paid strict attention to the proceedings of the Dominicans, both in Rome and Tuscany; and from what I had observed I was led to form a resolution to escape from them, and to renounce their society for ever. The request I had made to the Court of Rome from Capua, with respect to my secularization, had at first been received with dissatisfaction; but finally, on my reiterated applications, backed by a letter from Cardinal Polidori, the Pope granted my petition in the terms in which it was made, and for the reason I had stated;which was that the Order had become odious and insufferable to me.

Monsignor Acton informed me that the permission was made out, and at my disposal. He besought me, however, on the score of our old friendship, not to put it in execution, but to wait and see whether I could not find in the city of Naples a better race of monks, with whom I might associate happily, and pass my future days in tranquillity. I also received letters to the same purpose, first from Cardinal Polidori, and afterwards from Cardinal Gamberini, both friends of mine, in which they urged me to delay my projected secularization, until I had assured myself that my repugnance to remain in the Order could not be overcome. Cardinal Polidori informed me that such appeared to be the wish of the Pope, who seemed anxious, he said, that I should not act upon the permission he had granted me, till I found myself absolutely obliged to do so.

The good Acton took a great interest in my behalf on this occasion; writing to the Cardinal Archbishop of Naples and to others, and also several times to the Apostolic Nuncio, now Cardinal Ferretti, who was equally kind in endeavouring to persuade me to seek an asylum among the monks of Naples, after leaving those of Rome.

"Are you not of opinion, yourself, Monsignore," said I to him, "that these monks of Naples arebirbanti, (vagabonds,) as well as those of Rome?"

"Nay, I think they are worse," replied he. "But it is precisely on that account that you ought to stay among them. If we did not do all we could to keep a few good persons among this class of gentry, we should have a community of a character qualified to inspire us with fear, and to compromise us utterly. I believe the monks of Naples are more ignorant and more turbulent than any others; and I repeat, it is for that very reason I request you to place yourself among them, where you will be most useful, both through your example and your teaching."

"But they will drive me to despair."

"In that case, then, you must leave them."

"But why, in the mean time, should I be made to endure such a tribulation?"

"To do good; to be useful to your brethren, for the glory of God——"

"Well, be it so. I will consent to make the experiment, commending myself to Him."

In the meanwhile, the Dominican monks had had recourse to all their powers of persuasion to induce me to take up my abode among them. Solicited on one side to enter the monastery of St. Dominic, and on the other that of St. Peter the Martyr, I chose the latter. The monks could hardly show me civility enough in their demonstrations of friendship and regard. They even declared mefiglio di quel convento,[89]and though I declared I had no desire for any situation beyond that of Preacher or Professor among them, they forced upon me the office of Vice-Prior, and subsequently that of Prior itself; and if I had not vigorously opposed the measure, they would even have elected me their Provincial.[90]

Behold me then once more domiciled among the monks; not, however, as one of their society, nor with the intention of remaining permanently among them. They were not aware that I had the Pope'srescritto[91]in my pocket, in virtue of which I could turn my back upon them whenever I chose; and I must acknowledge, the idea that I could do so was a source of great satisfaction to me; it rendered me more tolerant, and at the same time gave me courage to do my duty: indeed, I accepted the Priorate for no other reason than to be better enabled to be of service to the community. I began with looking into the state of their finances, and with augmenting their income. But my principal endeavour wasto benefit their moral and religious condition, as far as I could hope to do so among a set of people who had been educated in principles diametrically opposed both to sound morality, and pure and true religion. Nevertheless, the ascendency I acquired over their minds, and the friendship they felt for me, greatly seconded my views; to say the truth, they were far more docile than I had anticipated, and if I had been at liberty to carry out my system as I could have wished, I do not doubt that I should have formed them into a good and regular community.

But there were in other monasteries, belonging to the same Order, many despicable monks, who united in their own persons every vice that can be found in human nature. These appeared to hate the faintest trace of honesty or virtue, and were always ready to plot, to calumniate, and to stick at nothing to promote their own interest. I frequently took occasion to reprove them, and threatened, more than once, to make public their infamous proceedings, unless they thought proper to desist from their practices. But all my remonstrances were in vain, and at length I lost my patience: I fought manfully against them for a long time, but the General of the Order, Ancarani, was on their side, and lent them his powerful protection: I therefore felt that I had nothing more to do than to hold out, to the end of my year of Priorate, and then to give in myrescrittoto the proper officer; which I accordingly did, in the month of August, 1839, and finally separated myself from the Order.

A new epoch in my life now commenced. I had never really been a monk, although I had lived so long among them. I therefore gladly threw off my monk's dress, and relinquished all the titles it had conferred on me, except that of Doctor of Theology, which, as one not belonging to the Order, I considered I had a perfect right to retain; it being granted to persons who had acted as Professor in certain sciences, for a determinate period, and subsequently gone through an examination; both of which I had satisfactorily done.

This degree is equally open to the laity as the clergy, on the fulfilment of the necessary stipulations; and once conferred can never be taken away; not even on account of heresy, since it is a title not granted for a man's belief, but for his ability. The obligation to teach is not made a preliminary condition, it is a subsequent duty; and the doctrine of the Roman Church is, that even if the Doctors themselves go into perdition, they still retain their degrees. I do not feel proud of the title as it was when I received it; but I confess I do as it has been, since my embracing the reformed religion. In the first instance, all my labour was in favour of Rome; now my most strenuous endeavours are in opposition to her doctrines. But even up to that time I had always regarded myself as a Doctor of the Holy Scriptures, and they, and they only, have occasioned the change in the aspect of my degree.

But how, it may here be asked, did I, on my secularization, get over the monastic vows which, it has been alleged, I took? I must inform my readers, that the Dominicans, contrary to the practice of all other monastic bodies, in their religious profession make but one single vow, which is that of obedience. My profession, therefore, was nothing more than a promise to be obedient to the Superior of the Order, and was couched in the following terms: "I, brother Giovanni Giacinto Achilli, promise obedience to God, to the most blessed Virgin Mary, to the Patriarch St. Dominic, and to you, most reverend Father General of the Order of Preachers, according to the rules of St. Augustine, and the constitution of the Order of Preachers."

Now it cannot be urged against me that I promised more than I expressed. Had I belonged to any other Order I must have vowed three things: obedience, chastity, and poverty. The Dominicans require obedience only. Some theologians pretend that in this obedience everything else is included; but this is neither legal nor philosophical. No one is obliged to do more than he has promised, even when that promise isvalid and pleasing to God; which I do not consider to be the case with respect to the vows of the cloister.

But when I obtained my secularization, the Pope, who can do everything, dispensed with my vow; and consequently released me from obedience to the Order of Dominicans. The only condition was that I, as priest, should continue subject to the bishop of the place I inhabited. I do not mention this because I desire to justify myself in the sight of Rome, for I consider that the vows of the Monastic Orders are impious in themselves, as being contrary to the laws of nature, and in opposition to the eternal decree of God: I only wish to state what at that time were my relations and my ties to that Church which I have now abandoned.

My relinquishing the Dominican Order was the signal for numerous desertions. Many of my friends were not slow to follow my example; among them I may mention two celebrated men, the Rev. Father Talia and the Rev. Father Borgetti; equally respected on account of their years and their learning, as for their personal probity. Neither will I conceal the name of another, for whom I had the sincerest regard; the Rev. Giovanni Martucci, who at that period, although very young, was Professor of Natural Philosophy. These persons, disgusted, like myself, at the falsehood with which they were surrounded, no sooner saw me throw off the cloistral habit, than they, also, demanded their rescript, and quitted the Neapolitan brotherhood. The worthy old men wept for joy, that the Lord had graciously, before their death, liberated them from the society of the prevaricators.

I remember Father Talia, who was exceedingly esteemed among the clergy of Naples, expressed himself in the following terms before the Cardinal Archbishop:—

"I do not believe your Eminence will suppose that I am actuated by an overweening desire for liberty, in emancipating myself from the Order of these monks; I would rather persuade you that my doing so has been occasioned by the purelove of truth and virtue, which the monks altogether refuse either to acknowledge or to practise. Your Eminence may say that I am an old man, and as such might have been contented to finish the remainder of my days in the cloister; but I would observe that my spirit is not affected by age, and that before I terminate my earthly career, I, though old in body not in mind, would fain leave behind me to the youth of the present generation, an example of Christian courage; showing that when an institution becomes corrupt, it is one's duty to abandon it, early or late, as it may be; for as the homely proverb expresses it, 'Better late than never.'"

To this the Cardinal replied that he was willing to admit that the good Father had his own reasons for quitting the Dominican habit; that he could not suspect a man like him to be actuated by light-mindedness; and that his friendship towards him would always remain the same: insomuch that the good old man felt himself not a little comforted with these kind assurances.

The monks, however, and more particularly those to whom our desertion from the Order was a bitter reproof, were by no means humbled; on the contrary, they were exceedingly irritated at our proceedings, and set themselves to consider how they could most persecute and injure us; in which intent they were greatly encouraged by the assistance they derived from Rome; I mean from the head of the Order, which unfortunately was at that time represented by the Monk Angelo Ancarani, a man of the most dark and gloomy character that ever disgraced humanity. His history might all be told in these few words: he was, during forty-five years, an Inquisitor of the Holy Office.

We, meanwhile, united ourselves in stricter bonds of friendship; mutually aiding each other, and defending ourselves, as well as we could, from the continual attacks of our malicious adversaries, who never let a single day pass without some effort to annoy us, by their false and calumnious reports.

We exhorted each other to patience and endurance. Nevertheless our dear friend Martucci, although of a pacific disposition, and always ready to forgive, could not forbear exclaiming: "Oh, these wretched monks! never was there seen a race so perverse and evil-minded as they are!" And I likewise, who had proposed to myself to endure everything with fortitude and resignation, could not at all times bridle the indignation I felt at their malicious attacks.

The most infamous slanders were preferred against the two good old men, and the excellent Martucci; for my own part I had less to complain of. It appeared that they had a dread of my numerous friends, who always stood forward in my defence. Still, in a crafty and insidious manner, as is customary with the Jesuits, they endeavoured to ensnare me to my ruin. I was informed that such was their intention; but as I am naturally averse to think evil of any one, I could not persuade myself of the truth of the allegation. Indeed, I held the monks and the priests in so little esteem, that I fancied as I never troubled my head about them, they also were very ready to forget me, altogether.

I occupied a handsome house in the Toledo; had two good servants, plenty of books, such as were necessary in my general studies, and a small circle of most excellent friends. I had in other places been annoyed by idle visits from people I cared nothing about; I determined, therefore, to make myself a more rigid monk now, in my own house, than I had ever been in the monastery. In the midst of my favourite pursuits, enwrapt in the most delightful contemplations, undisturbed by the continuous roar of the city[92]without, while within an unbroken silence prevailed—feeling that I was in the midst of the busy world, but enjoying a pleasing solitude—I was tranquil and happy: as a man who rests after a wearisome labour, or a tired warrior, who tastes the blessing of peace. I sought after, I wished for nothing more than peace,and tranquillity of conscience. And I may truly say I possessed it, since God gave it to me; but my invidious enemies sought to deprive me of it. Oh, evil minded men! cease to persecute him who is protected by the providence of God.

Affairs were in this state when I received a kind visit from my uncle, Dr. Mencarini, of Viterbo; who, as he had a great regard for me, was desirous to assure himself of my well-being, after my secession from the monks. He proposed to me that I should return with him, and settle at Viterbo, where he assured me every one, from the Bishop down to the humblest labourer, would be glad to see me; but I had left Rome with the resolution to remove myself as far as possible from its walls; and I too soon found that Naples was not sufficiently distant to ensure my deliverance from the machinations of the city that I abhorred, and which had become my most bitter enemy.

I had often revolved in my mind the idea of abandoning Naples, and even of quitting Italy altogether if an occasion should present itself. But how could I hope to bring myself to such a determination, without the severest shock to my feelings? It appeared as if nothing short of absolute necessity could impel me to desert my native country. As yet, however, this necessity had not become evident to my judgment. I imagined I could continue to enjoy my newly awakened liberty of conscience, in the secrecy of my own breast; whereas of this very liberty the natural consequences were my emancipation from the cloister, my separation from Rome, and my withdrawal from all that had hitherto formed the duties of my ecclesiastical office!

Who was there that did not know that I had altogether given up the practice of confessing, while the bishops still continued to send me their diplomas, for the performance of that ceremony? As to the mass, I scarcely ever celebrated it; and after several months' neglect I remember I said it once, from the weak and unworthy motive, I blush to acknowledge, that it might not be supposed the bishop had forbiddenme to do so. My preaching, too, afforded the most convincing proof that I was no longer in agreement with Rome. How then could I continue such a system in the Roman States or at Naples? How could I hope to remain unobserved, when so many eyes of monks and of priests were upon me?

I began to see how utterly impossible it was that my reformation might, as I had fancied, take place without its being publicly known, and consequently without its drawing down upon my head all the hatred and the persecution of Rome. I have since bitterly condemned this weakness in myself, as being contrary to the Spirit that had enlightened me. To a character naturally frank and open, deceit is detestable; and I might have known that without deceit, without disguising the truth, neither by the Church nor by the government should I have been permitted to continue in the country.

Perhaps the idea of this reconciling of adverse principles, or in other words, of serving "two masters," arose in my mind from seeing that many persons without any belief whatever, without observing any of the forms of religion, were permitted to live free and unmolested, not only in Naples; but even in Rome itself. In Naples there are many priests whose conversation is that of infidels, but who nevertheless celebrate the mass, and hear confessions; and many others who, having abandoned the mass, and every ecclesiastical rite, unblushingly live with other men's wives, and openly declare their unbelief. Nobody, however, takes any notice of them; the bishop does not consider it to be his duty, since having left the work of the ministry, they are in a certain degree independent of him; and the government makes it a rule not to interfere with priests, unless they are charged with civil offences; taking no cognizance of their morality, still less of their faith. I therefore naturally concluded that I, likewise, should be allowed to live quietly at Naples, provided I conducted myself as a good citizen, and professed the faith of a Christian. The fact is, that if I had believed in nothing at all, I should have given offence to no one; if Ihad even adopted the language of Voltaire, I should have merely raised a laugh; but in speaking the language of the Bible, I attacked the priesthood, and incurred its hatred and its persecution.

The case, I may say, is precisely the same at Rome; where for heretics, that is to say Protestants, there is the Inquisition always ready; but as for unbelievers and atheists, so long as they are obedient to the pope, and outwardly reverential towards the Church, they are rather favourites than otherwise, and nothing stands in their way of receiving a cardinal's hat. Well may she be called by St. John, "the mother of abominations!"

It was a providential circumstance that I had occasion to leave Naples, on account of some important business which called me to Rome in the year 1841. I set off with the intention of returning at the end of a fortnight; but He who is my Master and my Guide ordered otherwise: it was according to his good pleasure that whilst I was on the point of leaving Rome to return to Naples, I was arrested by an invisible enemy, and that enemy was the Inquisition.

I look upon this event as one of the most fortunate of my life; if it had not befallen me, I should certainly have returned to Naples, to the quiet comfort of a private life and a peaceful home; enjoying a little world of my own, in the middle of a great city, and living solely for myself. But this was too mean and limited a sphere to satisfy me; I felt that I was not destined to live for myself alone, intent only on my own gratification; but to be useful to others, to contribute to the wants of a people, and to lend my aid towards the salvation of a nation. I had an important mission to accomplish; I considered it was given to me by God. Was it in the power of man to take it away?

On hearing that the Inquisition had laid hold of me, the monks of Naples began to chant their hymn of victory: "He who made war against us," said they, "is fallen; he who branded us with dishonour is fallen, to rise no more. TheInquisition will root out from the earth the very memory of his name."

Thus they rejoiced over my apprehension. Two or three of them were in correspondence with the Holy Office, through the General, Ancarani, and communicated whatever malice came into their heads concerning me. But their accusations were so palpably gross and untrue, that Ancarani himself, skilled as he was in the art of fabricating a charge for the Inquisition, could not make use of them: one of his letters, relating to this business, fell into the hands of a friend of mine; it was to a certain Father Avezzana, a Dominican, belonging to the Monastery del Vomero, at Naples. Among other passages were the following:—"I fully believe all you say, but it must be related in a different manner for the cardinals to believe it.... You should endeavour, in stating a fact, to state it so as to make it tell; to have effect: another time consult with Father de Luca and Father Travaglini."

In May, 1848, when I came through Naples, on my way from Malta to London, and stopped there a few days, another friend showed me a letter from the same Ancarani, directed to a lady, evidently one of hisdevotées, since the letter began, "CarissimaFiglia in Gesù Cristo," in which he prayed her to use her influence with the Marquess d'Andrea, Ministerdel Culto, to compel certain persons to depose against me; especially as to what occurred at the time of Lent, in the church of St. Giacomo, where the Marquess himself, and others of the ministry frequently came to hear me. It appeared, however, that d'Andrea did not trouble himself about the matter, if indeed the lady ever solicited him on the occasion. This letter my friend found between the leaves of a book which belonged to an ex-Dominican nun of the Montfort family.

I relate all this to show what kind of men these monks are, and how they act in concert with the Inquisition. In the conducting of my process, among the various documentsrelating to my cause that I was enabled to get a sight of, I saw many papers in their handwriting, and some in that of Ancarani's secretary, Father Spada, a Sicilian; who, although I do not believe him to be naturally a bad man, was capable of going to any extreme in the way of his business, even to the burning of heretics, if required by his patriarch, St. Dominic, or by any one who might be considered his representative.

Among other papers produced by the monks, I saw a letter from my uncle, Mencarini, written at Naples while he was staying in my house, addressed to the Bishop Scerra, at Rome. In this letter, which was couched in the most friendly terms, he spoke of the base and unworthy conduct of Ancarani, and several others among the brotherhood; all of whom he designated as instruments of the Inquisition: and he advised the Bishop, as Secretary to the Congregation of Discipline, to put a stop to such proceedings, lest I should be so far irritated by them as to make disclosures that might cover them with confusion. I believe this letter had been intercepted at the office, and had so fallen into the hands of Ancarani, who had it copied by his secretary; for I cannot suppose that the Bishop, who was so friendly towards my uncle and myself, would have had the weakness to send it—being strictly confidential—to be copied for the use of the Inquisition. If that were the case I should be obliged to class him with Ancarani himself, and with others, who, for right or wrong, have sold themselves to the Inquisition.

Another circumstance is worth relating. The two principal agents in my accusation were Ancarani and Cardinal Lambruschini.

"We ought to burn this heretic alive;" said Ancarani, at one of the sittings of the Inquisition: at another he was a little more moderate, and only suggested my being sent to the galleys for life. The Cardinal asserted that I was not only a heretic, but a conspirator as well. In a meeting ofcardinals at the Holy Office, this dreamer assured their eminences and the pope, that he could bring proof that I was a heretic in religion, a Freemason, a Carbonaro, a member of a secret society, and I know not what besides.

Several of the cardinals who were personally acquainted with me, opposed his remarks; but he was obstinate in his assertions, declaring that he had papers in his possession, and expected others from Naples, which would prove the truth of what he advanced. It appears, he was furnished with the fabricated documents of the monks instigated by Ancarani, and expected to receive more of the same description. But above all he hoped to gain possession of my private papers; for which object he had directed the papal nuncio at Naples to make a diligent search in my own house, and to forward all that he could lay his hands upon to Rome.

The nuncio could not refuse the Secretary of State's order, but he was obliged to act through the agency of the police, which was refused, when it was understood I was in the hands of the Inquisition; for the Neapolitans have the greatest horror of that establishment, and, to their honour, would never allow of it among themselves; rising up in open revolt every time the pope or the bishops endeavoured to introduce it. It is an interesting fact, that the minister of police refused the pope's nuncio permission to break into my private dwelling, and possess himself of my papers. I have been assured that he said to the nuncio, "I have no charge to prefer against Signor Achilli; he has lived in Naples quietly, and in obedience to the laws, and has gained great credit as a preacher. The police has no reason to suspect him of belonging to any secret society."

Cardinal Lambruschini made but a sorry figure before the Inquisition after this event; I fancy he was not very ready to come forward any more with his papers and precious documents.

I have frequently had occasion to observe how remarkablyall those who at that juncture sought to oppress and calumniate me, have come to shame and confusion, without any effort on my part towards hostility or revenge. God himself has defeated and humbled them, and covered them with infamy in the sight of mankind. Ancarani died loaded with execrations. Lambruschini is still, for his greater punishment, among the living. Many others from Naples, and other parts, who persecuted me, have been signally visited with the chastisement of the Almighty. To Him be all honour, glory, and praise. Amen.

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