Chapter IX

The Inquisition at Goa has made little improvement since the time
of Dellon—extracts from Dr. Buchanan's Christian Researches in
Asia—he visits Goa—becomes acquainted with the Inquisitor—visits
the Inquisition—he pleads, in vain, to see the dungeons and
the captives—his remarks on the efforts which ought to be made
by Britain to abolish so odious a tribunal—true picture of the
Inquisition by several writers—conclusion.

Little alteration has taken place in the Inquisition at Goa, since the period of Dellon's imprisonment. Thus will appear from the following account of that tribunal which is given by the Rev. Dr. Buchanan, so lately as 1808, in his "Christian Researches in Asia." The objects of the Rev. Doctor in visiting Goa were, "1st. To ascertain whether the Inquisition actually refused to recognize the Bible among the Romish churches in British India. 2dly. To inquire into the state and jurisdiction of the Inquisition, particularly as it affected British subjects. 3dly. To learn what was the system of education for the priesthood; and, 4thly. To examine the ancient church libraries in Goa, which were said to contain all the books of the first printing."

"On my arrival at Goa, (says he, under date January 23, 1808,)
I was received into the house of Captain Schuyler, the British
resident. The British force here is commanded by Colonel Adams,
of the 78th Regiment, with whom I was formerly well acquainted
in Bengal.[26] Next day I was introduced by these gentlemen to
the viceroy of Goa, the Count de Cabral. I intimated to his
excellency my wish to sail up the river to Old Goa,[27] where the
Inquisition is, to which he politely acceded. Major Pareira,
of the Portuguese establishment, who was present, and to whom I
had letters of introduction from Bengal, offered to accompany me
to the city, and to introduce me to the archbishop of Goa, the
primate of the Orient.

I had communicated to Colonel Adams, and to the British resident,
my purpose of inquiring into the state of the Inquisition. These
gentlemen informed me, that I should not be able to accomplish
my design without difficulty; seeing every thing relating to
the Inquisition was conducted in a very secret manner, the most
respectable of the lay Portuguese themselves being ignorant of
its proceedings; and that, if the priests were to discover my
object, their excessive jealousy and alarm would prevent their
communicating with me, or satisfying my inquiries on any subject.
On receiving this intelligence, I perceived that it would be
necessary to proceed with caution. I was, in fact, about to visit
a republic of priests, whose dominion had existed for nearly three
centuries,—whose province it was to prosecute heretics, and
particularly the teachers of heresy,—and from whose authority and
sentence there was no appeal in India.[28]

It happened that Lieutenant Kempthorne, commander of his Majesty's
Brig Diana, a distant connection of my own, was at that time in
the harbour. On his learning that I meant to visit Old Goa, he
offered to accompany me; as did Captain Sterling, of his Majesty's
8th Regiment.

We proceeded up the river in the British resident's barge,
accompanied by Major Pareira, who was well qualified, by a
thirty years' residence, to give information concerning local
circumstances. From him I learned that there were upwards of two
hundred churches and chapels in the province of Goa, and upwards
of two thousand priests.

On our arrival at the city, it was past twelve o'clock: all the
churches were shut, and we were told that they would not be opened
again until two o'clock. I mentioned to Major Pareira, that I
intended to stay at Old Goa some days; and that I should be
obliged to him to find me a place to sleep in. He seemed surprised
at this intimation, and observed that it would be difficult for
me to obtain reception in any of the churches or convents, and
that there were no private houses into which I could be admitted.
I said I could sleep any where; I had two servants with me and
a travelling bed. When he perceived that I was serious in my
purpose, he gave directions to a civil officer in that place, to
clear out a room in a building which had been long uninhabited,
and which was then used as a warehouse for goods. Matters at
this time presented a very gloomy appearance; and I had thoughts
of returning with my companions from this inhospitable place.
In the meantime we sat down in the room I have just mentioned,
to take some refreshment, while Major Pareira went to call on
some of his friends. During this interval I communicated to
Lieutenant Kempthorne the object of my visit. I had in my pocket
Dellon's account of the Inquisition at Goa; and I mentioned some
particulars. While we were conversing on the subject, the great
bell began to toll; the same which Dellon observes always tolls,
before daylight on the morning of the auto-da-fé. I did not myself
ask any questions of the people concerning the Inquisition; but
Mr. Kempthorne made inquiries for me; and he soon found out that
the Sancta Casa, or holy office, was close to the house where
we were then sitting. The gentlemen went to the window to view
the horrid mansion; and I could see the indignation of free
and enlightened men arise in the countenance of the two British
officers, while they contemplated a place where formerly their
own countrymen were condemned to the flames, and into which they
themselves might now suddenly be thrown, without the possibility
of rescue.

The day being now far spent, and my companions about to leave
me, I was considering whether I should return with them, when
Major Pareira said he would first introduce me to a priest high
in office, and one of the most learned men in the place. We
accordingly walked to the convent of the Augustinians, where I was
presented to Josephus a Doloribus, a man well advanced in life, of
pale visage, and penetrating eye, rather of a reverend appearance,
and possessing great fluency of speech, and urbanity of manners.
After half an hour's conversation in the Latin language, during
which he adverted rapidly to a variety of subjects, and inquired
concerning some learned men of his own church, whom I had visited
in my tour, he politely invited me to take up my residence with
him, during my stay at Old Goa. I was highly gratified by this
unexpected invitation; but Lieut. Kempthorne did not approve
of leaving me in the hands of the _Inquisitor_; for, judge of
our surprise, when we discovered that my learned host was one
of the Inquisitors of the Holy Office, the second member of
that tribunal in rank, but first and most active agent in the
business of the department. Apartments were assigned to me in the
college adjoining the convent, next to the rooms of the Inquisitor
himself, and here I have been four days at the very fountain-head
of information, in regard to those subjects which I wished to
investigate. I breakfast and dine with the Inquisitor almost every
day, and he generally passes his evenings in my apartment. As he
considers my inquiries to be chiefly of a literary nature, he is
perfectly candid and communicative on all subjects.

Next day after my arrival, I was introduced by my learned
conductor to the Archbishop of Goa. We found him reading the
Latin letters of St. Francis Xavier. On my adverting to the long
duration of the city of Goa, while other cities of Europeans
in India had suffered from war or revolution, the Archbishop
observed, that the preservation of Goa was owing to the prayers
of St. Francis Xavier. The Inquisitor looked at me to see what
I thought of this sentiment. I acknowledged that Xavier was
considered by the learned among the English to have been a great
man: what he wrote himself, bespeaks him a man of learning, of
original genius, and great fortitude of mind; but what others
have written for him, and of him, tarnished his fame, by making
him the inventor of fables. The Archbishop signified his assent.
He afterwards conducted me into his private chapel, which is
decorated with images of silver, and then into the Archiepiscopal
library, which possesses a valuable collection of books. As I
passed through our convent, in returning from the Archbishop's, I
observed among the paintings in the cloisters, a portrait of the
famous Alexis de Menezes, Archbishop of Goa, who held the synod of
Diamper, near Cochin, in 1599, and burned the books of the Syrian
Christians. From the inscription underneath, I learned that he was
the founder of the magnificent church and convent in which I am
now residing.

On the same day I received an invitation to dine with the chief
Inquisitor, at his house in the country. The second Inquisitor
accompanied me, and we found a respectable company of priests,
and a sumptuous entertainment. In the library of the chief
Inquisitor, I saw a register, containing the names of the
present establishment of the Inquisition at Goa, and the names
of all the officers. On asking the chief Inquisitor, whether the
establishment was as extensive as formerly, he said it was nearly
the same. I had hitherto said little to any person concerning
the Inquisition, but I had indirectly gleaned much information
concerning it, not only from the Inquisitors themselves, but from
certain priests whom I visited in their respective convents;
particularly from a father in the Franciscan convent, who had
himself repeatedly witnessed an auto-da-fé.

On the second morning after my arrival, I was surprised by my
host, the Inquisitor, coming into my apartment clothed in black
robes from head to foot; for the usual dress of his order is
white. He said he was going to sit on the tribunal of the Holy
Office. "I presume, father, your august office does not occupy
much of your time?" "Yes," answered he, "much; I sit on the
tribunal three or four days every week."

I had thought for some days of putting Dellon's book into the
Inquisitor's hand; for if I could get him to advert to the facts
stated in that book, I should be able to learn, by comparison,
the exact state of the Inquisition at the present time. In the
evening he came in, as usual, to pass an hour in my apartment.
After some conversation, I took the pen in my hand to write a few
notes in my journal; and, as if to amuse him while I was writing,
I took up Dellon's book, which was lying with some others on the
table, and handing it across to him, asked him whether he had
ever seen it. It was in the French language, which he understood
well. "Relation de l'Inquisition de Goa," pronounced he, with a
slow articulate voice. He had never seen it before, and began to
read with eagerness. He had not proceeded far, before he betrayed
evident symptoms of uneasiness. He turned hastily to the middle
of the book, and then to the end, and then ran over the table of
contents at the beginning, as if to ascertain the full extent of
the evil. He then composed himself to read, while I continued to
write. He turned over the pages with rapidity, and when he came
to a certain place, he exclaimed in the broad Italian accent,
"Mendacium, mendacium." I requested he would mark those passages
which were untrue, and we should discuss them afterwards, for that
I had other books on the subject. "Other books!" said he, and he
looked with an inquiring eye on those on the table. He continued
reading till it was time to retire to rest, and then begged to
take the book with him.

Next morning we resumed the subject of the Inquisition. The
Inquisitor admitted that Dellon's description of the dungeons, of
the torture, of the mode of trial, and of the auto-da-fé, were
in general just; but he said the writer judged untruly of the
motives of the Inquisitors, and very uncharitably of the character
of the holy Church. He was now anxious to know to what extent
Dellon's book had been circulated in Europe. I told him Picart
had published to the world extracts from it, in his celebrated
work entitled "Religious Ceremonies," together with plates of the
system of torture and burnings at the auto-da-fé. I added, that
it was now generally believed in Europe that these enormities no
longer existed, and that the Inquisition itself had been totally
suppressed; but that I was concerned to find that it was not the
case. He now began a grave narration to show that the Inquisition
had undergone a change in some respects, and that its terrors were
mitigated.

I had already discovered, from written or printed documents, that
the Inquisition of Goa was suppressed by royal edict, in 1775, and
established again, in 1779, subject to certain restrictions, the
chief of which are the two following: That a greater number of
witnesses should be required to convict criminals than were before
necessary; and that the auto-da-fé should not be held publicly as
before, but that the sentences of the tribunal should be executed
privately, within the walls of the Inquisition.

In this particular, the constitution of the new Inquisition is
more reprehensible than that of the old one. Formerly the friends
of those unfortunate persons who were thrown into its prison, had
the melancholy satisfaction of seeing them once a year walking in
the procession of the auto-da-fé; or, if they were condemned to
die, they witnessed their death, and mourned for the dead. But
now they have no means of learning for years whether they be dead
or alive. The policy of this new mode of concealment appears to
be this, to preserve the power of the Inquisition, and, at the
same time, to lessen the public odium of its proceedings, in the
presence of British dominion and civilization. I asked the father
his opinion concerning the nature and frequency of the punishments
within the walls. He said he possessed no certain means of giving
a satisfactory answer; that every thing transacted there was
declared to be "sacrum et secretum." But this he knew to be true,
that there were constantly captives in the dungeons; that some of
them are liberated after long confinement, but that they never
speak afterwards of what passed within the place. He added, that
of all the persons he had known who had been liberated, he never
knew one who did not carry about with him what might be called the
"mark of the Inquisition;" that is to say, who did not show in the
solemnity of his countenance, or in his peculiar demeanour, or his
terror of the priests, that he had been in that dreadful place.

The chief argument of the Inquisitor to prove the melioration of
the Inquisition, was the superior humanity of the Inquisitors.
I remarked that I did not doubt the humanity of the existing
officers; but what availed humanity in an Inquisitor? He must
pronounce sentence according to the laws of the tribunal, which
are notorious enough; and a relapsed heretic must be burned
in the flames, or confined for life in a dungeon, whether the
Inquisitor be humane or not. "But if," said I, "you would satisfy
my mind completely on this subject, show me the Inquisition." He
said it was not permitted to any person to see the Inquisition.
I observed that mine might be considered as a peculiar case;
that the character of the Inquisition, and the expediency of
its longer continuance, had been called in question; that I had
myself written on the civilization of India, and might possibly
publish something more upon that subject, and that it could not
be expected that I should pass over the Inquisition without
notice, knowing what I did of its proceedings; at the same time I
should not wish to state a single fact without his authority, or
at least his admission of its truth. I added that he himself had
been pleased to communicate with me very fully on the subject, and
that in all our discussions we had both been actuated, I hoped,
by a good purpose. The countenance of the Inquisitor evidently
altered on receiving this intimation, nor did it ever after wholly
regain its wonted frankness and placidity. After some hesitation,
however, he said he would take me with him to the Inquisition the
next day. I was a good deal surprised at this acquiescence of the
Inquisitor, but I did not know what was in his mind.

Next morning after breakfast my host went to dress for the holy
office, and soon returned in his Inquisitorial robes. He said he
would go half an hour before the usual time for the purpose of
showing me the Inquisition. The buildings are about a quarter of
a mile distant from the convent, and we proceeded thither. On
our arrival at the place, the Inquisitor said to me, as we were
ascending the steps of the outer stair, that he hoped I should be
satisfied with a transient view of the Inquisition, and that I
would retire whenever he should desire it. I took this as a good
omen, and followed my conductor with tolerable confidence.

He led me first to the great hall of the Inquisition. We were
met at the door by a number of well dressed persons, who, I
afterwards understood, were the familiars and the attendants of
the holy office. They bowed very low to the Inquisitor, and looked
with surprise at me. The great hall is the place in which the
prisoners are marshalled for the procession of the auto-da-fé. At
the procession described by Dellon, in which he himself walked
barefoot, clothed with the painted garment, there were upwards
of one hundred and fifty prisoners. I traversed this hall for
some time, with a slow step, reflecting on its former scenes, the
Inquisitor walking by my side in silence. I thought of the fate
of the multitudes of my fellow creatures who had passed through
this place, condemned by a tribunal of their fellow sinners, their
bodies devoted to the flames, and their souls to perdition. And I
could not help saying to him, "Would not the holy Church wish, in
her mercy, to have those souls back again, that she might allow
them a little farther probation?" The Inquisitor answered nothing,
but beckoned me to go with him to a door at one end of the hall.
By this door he conducted me to some small rooms, and thence to
the spacious apartments of the chief Inquisitor. Having surveyed
these, he brought me back again to the great hall; and I thought
he seemed now desirous that I should depart. "Now, father," said
I, "lead me to the dungeons below; I want to see the captives."
"No," said he, "that cannot be." I now began to suspect that
it had been in the mind of the Inquisitor, from the beginning,
to show me only a certain part of the Inquisition, in the hope
of satisfying my inquiries in a general way. I urged him with
earnestness, but he steadily resisted, and seemed to be offended,
or rather agitated by my importunity. I intimated to him plainly,
that the only way to do justice to his assertions and arguments
regarding the present state of the Inquisition, was to show me
the prisons and the captives. I should then describe only what I
saw; but now the subject was left in awful obscurity. "Lead me
down," said I, "to the inner building, and let me pass through the
two hundred dungeons, ten feet square, described by your former
captives. Let me count the number of your present captives, and
converse with them. I want to see if there be any subjects of
the British government, to whom we owe protection. I want to ask
how long they have been here; how long it is since they beheld
the light of the sun, and whether they ever expect to see it
again. Show me the chamber of torture; and declare what modes of
execution, or of punishment, are now practised within the walls
of the Inquisition, in lieu of the public auto-da-fé. If, after
all that has passed, father, you resist this reasonable request,
I shall be justified in believing that you are afraid of exposing
the real state of the Inquisition in India." To these observations
the Inquisitor made no reply; but seemed impatient that I should
withdraw "My good father," said I, "I am about to take my leave
of you, (it had been before understood that I should take my
final leave at the door of the Inquisition, after having seen the
interior,) and to thank you for your hospitable attentions, and I
wish always to preserve on my mind a favourable sentiment of your
kindness and candour. You cannot, you say, show me the captives
and dungeons; be pleased, then, merely to answer this question,
for I shall believe your word:—How many prisoners are there now
below in the cells of the Inquisition?" The Inquisitor replied,
"That is a question which I cannot answer!" On his pronouncing
these words, I retired hastily towards the door, and wished him
farewell. We shook hands with as much cordiality as we could at
the moment assume; and both of us, I believe, were sorry that our
parting took place with a clouded countenance.

From the Inquisition I went to the place of burning in the _Campo
Santo-Lazaro_, on the river side, where the victims were brought
to the stake at the auto-da-fé. It is close to the palace, that
the viceroy and his court may witness the execution; for it has
ever been the policy of the Inquisition to make these spiritual
executions appear to be the executions of the state. An old priest
accompanied me, who pointed out the place and described the
scene. As I passed over this melancholy plain, I thought on the
difference between the pure and benign doctrine, which was first
preached to India in the apostolic age, and that bloody code,
which, after a long night of darkness, was announced to it under
the same name? And I pondered on the mysterious dispensation,
which permitted the ministers of the Inquisition, with their racks
and flames, to visit these lands before the heralds of the gospel
of peace. But the most painful reflection was, that this tribunal
should yet exist, unawed by the vicinity of British humanity and
dominion. I was not satisfied with what I had seen or said at the
Inquisition, and I determined to go back again. The Inquisitors
were now sitting on the tribunal, and I had some excuse for
returning; for I was to receive from the chief Inquisitor a letter
which he said he would give me, before I left the place, for the
British resident at Travancore, being an answer to a letter from
that officer.

When I arrived at the Inquisition, and had ascended the outer
stairs, the door-keepers surveyed me doubtingly, but suffered
me to pass, supposing that I had returned by permission and
appointment of the Inquisitor. I entered the great hall, and went
up directly towards the tribunal of the Inquisition, described by
Dellon, in which is the lofty crucifix. I sat down on a form, and
wrote some notes; and then desired one of the attendants to carry
in my name to the Inquisitor. As I walked up the hall, I saw a
poor woman sitting by herself, on a bench by the wall, apparently
in a disconsolate state of mind. She clasped her hands as I
passed, and gave me a look expressive of her distress. This sight
chilled my spirits. The familiars told me she was waiting there
to be called up before the tribunal of the Inquisition. While I
was asking questions concerning her crime, the second Inquisitor
came out in evident trepidation, and was about to complain of the
intrusion; when I informed him I had come back for the letter
from the chief Inquisitor. He said it should be sent after me
to Goa; and he conducted me with a quick step towards the door.
As we passed the poor woman I pointed to her, and said to him
with some emphasis, 'Behold, father, another victim of the Holy
Inquisition!' He answered nothing. When we arrived at the head of
the great stair, he bowed, and I took my last leave of Josephus a
Doloribus, without uttering a word."[29]

Having thus given a sketch of the Inquisition, the reader must have perceived in every circumstance connected with this singular tribunal, its injustice, tyranny, hypocrisy, and cruelty. Its dungeons, torments, and executions are not only opposed to the spirit of Christianity, but outdo the most ferocious deeds recorded in history, of the greatest tyrant among heathen nations. It has carried terror throughout every land in which it has been established, robbed both the wealthy and the poor of their property, and what is infinitely worse, glutted its vengeance with the blood of the innocent.

Above all, the cruelty of the "holy office" to those whom it pronounces penitent, is most detestable. Instead of embracing them with open arms, it inflicts the most grievous punishments on those whom, in the plenitude of its power, it permits to live; whilst others, also believed to be converted to the faith of the Romish Church, are nevertheless doomed to suffer an ignominious death. To these unhappy persons, the sacraments are given, if desired; thus acknowledging that they are "put in a state of salvation, received into the bosom of the Church, and assured of a heavenly crown!" What greater cruelty, then, can be conceived, and what more abhorrent to the mild spirit of the gospel of peace, than to punish with death a person who repents, and is reconciled to the Church? Yet, such are the iniquitous doings of the Inquisition! such the laws by which that blood-thirsty tribunal is governed—laws which must be carried into effect, in despite of the precepts of Jehovah, and the injunctions of the Great Head of the Church, every one of which are trampled under foot!

"The Inquisition, model most complete,
Of perfect wickedness, where deeds were done,
Deeds! let them ne'er be named—and sat and planned
Deliberately, and with most musing pains,
How, to extremest thrill of agony,
The flesh, the blood, and souls of holy men,
Her victims, might be wrought; and when she saw
New tortures of her labouring fancy born,
She leaped for joy, and made great haste to try
Their force—well pleased to hear a deeper groan.
The supplicating hand of innocence,
That made the tiger mild, and, in its wrath,
The lion pause, the groans of suffering most
Severe, were nought to her; she laughed at groans,
No music pleased her more, and no repast
So sweet to her, as blood of men redeemed
By blood of Christ. Ambition's self, though mad,
And nursed on human gore, with her compared,
Was merciful."

Nay, the Inquisitors themselves though they impiously assume the title of "holy," have almost uniformly been the most worthless and abandoned of characters. Crimes of the blackest hue have been perpetrated by these guardians of the faith, without a blush; and as they feared not God, so neither did they regard man—the laws of magistrates and kings being trampled on by them with impunity. These are indeed weighty charges, but the following testimonies by Roman Catholics themselves, given at different periods, will prove them to be no less weighty than just.

"With regard to the Inquisition," says M. P. de Almazan, when speaking of the Inquisitors of Cordova, at the end of the fifteenth century, "the measure adopted, was to place so much confidence in the archbishop of Seville, that they filled all these kingdoms with infamy, and in violation of the laws of God, as well as in contradiction to all justice, they destroyed the greatest part of them, by killing, robbing, and forcing maidens and married women, to the great shame and discredit of the Christian religion."

"Of other excesses on the part of particular judges," says Antonio Perez, a century afterwards, "of proceedings falsified, curtailed, handled in such a manner as to gain favour with the superiors, and besides stimulated by personal inventives so loose, disorderly, and notorious, that nothing else is to be seen in the proceedings agitated in the supreme court of Inquisition, and fraught with the piteous complaints of sufferers, injured maidens, and newly married women, overcome and possessed through the stratagems practised in these trials, so revolting and disgraceful, that no one would fail to prefer public shame to such secret dishonour."

"O! Inquisitors," exclaims an ancient Spanish historian, "oh! Inquisitors, savage beasts, how long will God endure your tyrannic and cruel acts! Oh! Spaniards, who are so fondly attached to your wives and children, and watch over them with such jealous care, how long will you endure that these old libertines should treat them in a manner so shameful, and thus gratify their beastly propensities?"

"In the very title they assume," says Salgado, which "is the holy office of Inquisition," the first part is, it is holy, it is then divine and their work must be divine also. Were this tribunal divine, it would omit nothing of what it could do to inform men in the way of salvation, and to open to them the secret mysteries of God's grace and mercy; but all their business really is to discover men's secrets, for ruining their estates, and disseizing the owners, that (Ahab-like) they may seize all. Further, were this tribunal holy, it would approve, choose, and promote holiness, as God doth; he communicateth holiness to the righteous, he approves it in them, and exerciseth them thereunto. Now where is aught of this to be found, either in the cruel disposition, or injurious proceedings of this court, and its officers? Where you find the greatest inhumanity, and most of the devil's malice, there is nothing divine, or of God; their holiness is condemned, and the holy are burnt; though sometimes they condemn a vile offender, yet they never absolve a known saint, a lover of Christ and truth; and were it holy, it would resemble the holiness of him in his created state under the law of nature. But here is nothing of that where all the laws of natural equity and compassion are violated, by forgery against the innocent, by forcing them to shorten their present torments by owning faults they never committed; in short, using all, so as none of them would be used by others. Here is nothing divine, natural; nor is there in this tribunal any conformity to the holiness which shines forth in Moses' law, which directed to the best methods of government, and best provided for the safety of innocents. This Inquisition is the most pernicious to innocents, wearing out with long imprisonment, those that retain their innocency, and burning those that forego it to please the Inquisitors. Moses' law was holy, which commanded, to love mercy, do justice, and walk humbly with God: The Inquisitors, for pride, like Lucifer, for injustice unparalleled, are notorious abhorrers of mercy. Say, leader, whether their tribunal can be holy and divine? There is one more holy tribunal namely that of grace, which is to save life, not to destroy it. And well doth the tribunal of Inquisition correspond to this, doth it not? which is set up to destroy life, not to save it. On Christ's throne is written life and salvation, but on the Inquisitor's, death and destruction; but yet it is a judgment seat, and hath a great authority, and therefore divine! Indeed, were it of God, it were divine, but it is of the Pope, an usurper, a tyrant, a bloody cruel one; and these Inquisitors commissioned by him, are to execute his bloody designs on all innocent ones accused, and brought within their snare. God permits, and abhors it now; and as he hath punished many, so he will punish all the rest of this bloody crew which profane the venerable names of faith, justice, and holiness, with their robberies, murders, and perjuries."—"They inquire not diligently after crimes to amend the criminal, but earnestly hunt after temporal estates, to seize them. Of old the estates of anathematized ones were not adjudged to the exchequer, but to the fires; now the goods of such are adjudged neither to the exchequer, nor to the fires, but to robbing Inquisitors. Instead of producing the truth before men, this tribunal brings lies openly to open view, and by false witness and cheats condemns innocents; they transubstantiate falsehoods, and then proclaim them truths; they contrive greatest injustices with greatest secrecy; they condemn innocents by wiles, and smother their righteous cause, which they never suffer to be pleaded; this their Inquisition it suppresseth truth, and murders innocents, and inquires what gain from the execution, never what righteousness in the judgment. By all this it appears the tribunal is neither holy, nor an office, nor an Inquisition."

"Thus the Inquisition," to use the words of Puigblanch, "surpassing the greatest tyrants in pride and fierceness, has not yielded to them in its arbitrary and despotic conduct. Every thing odious to be met with in the iniquitous Enquesta of Arragon, the Bastille of Paris, or any other of the monstrous establishments erected by despots to oppress their people, is found united, and even exceeded in the monstrous tribunal to which we allude.... Implacable with the unfortunate who fell beneath its claws, it has stained its hands in their blood, in the most inhuman manner, whenever they had sufficient heroism to brave its terrors; whilst at the same time it assumed the garb of insolence towards the weak, covering them with scoffs in their humiliation. Perfidious in its words, and base in its conduct, it only conceived itself happy while it had culprits to condemn. Borne away by its avarice, it devoured the loaf wrested from the widow and orphan, to whom it rendered even the means of begging difficult, by the stigmas of infamy which it imposed.

"As the masterpiece of error, it obstinately persecuted letters and learned men, always fearing to meet its own destruction in the broad light. It boasted of being unerring in its measures, whilst from its tripod the most absurd and injurious oracles have issued. Possessing in the most eminent degree the passions of despots, pride has constituted its very soul, and falsehood the air it has constantly breathed. It was adopted by kings, in order to enslave nations, after it had been founded by the popes, for the very purpose of making kings their vassals; and thus aiming at sovereignty, and spurning at mankind at large, the ambition and impunity of the clergy have alone prospered under its shade. It not only trampled on the property, honour, and lives of the citizens, but also on their shame. Not content with disturbing and depressing the civil authority, it contemned the dignity of bishops, although it had proclaimed itself their chief support. In short, to form the history of its dominion, crimes of every kind rush upon the mind. And after this, how can I call thee, the Holy Tribunal? Thou hast been a den of thieves, the bulwark of superstition and of ignorance; the insatiable sphinx of human flesh, a tyrant among despotic establishments, a monument of the barbarism of the middle ages, the scum of tribunals; finally, thou hast constituted an invention that has stood alone, and without a parallel in ancient or modern times!"

Spain, unhappy Spain, still groans under the dominion of a tribunal so horribly, yet justly portrayed. It may stand for a little while longer, but it cannot exist long. The blood of the innocents whom it has murdered cries for vengeance. The souls of the martyrs, whose bodies it has tortured and consumed to ashes, exclaim, "How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge, and avenge our blood on them who thus persecute the saints!"

The vengeance thus sought, may be for a short time deferred, but it will be at length executed to the full. "With what judgment" that unrighteous tribunal "has judged, shall she be judged;" and because she has not only shed, but made herself drunk with, the blood of saints and of prophets, the Spirit of inspiration testifies, that she is to get blood to drink, "for she is worthy."

How very grateful ought we to be, for our deliverance from an institution so inimical to liberty, both civil and religious? We are acquainted with it only by name, and read of its cruelty without being afraid of being subjected to its barbarous punishments. While therefore we value our privileges, let us acknowledge the kindness of God, in preventing us from being subjected to a yoke which other nations are unable to bear; and let us show our gratitude, by holding fast the truth, "not in unrighteousness," but "unblamably in holiness before God, even our Father."

FOOTNOTES:

[26] The forts in the harbour of Goa were then occupied by British troops, to prevent its falling into the hands of the French.

[27] There is Old and New Goa. The old city is about eight miles up the river. The viceroy and the Chief Portuguese inhabitants reside at New Goa, which is at the mouth of the river, within the forts of the harbour. The old city, where the Inquisition and the churches are, is now almost entirely deserted by the secular Portuguese, and is inhabited by the priests alone. The unhealthiness of the place, and the ascendency of the priests, are the causes assigned for abandoning the ancient city.

[28] Even the viceroy of Goa himself has no authority over the Inquisition, nay, is liable to its censures. Were the British government, for instance, to prefer a complaint against the Inquisition to the Portuguese government at Goa, it could obtain no redress. By the very constitution of the Inquisition, there is no power in India which can invade its jurisdiction, or even put a question to it on any subject.

[29] When the Portuguese possessions in India, several years ago, came under British sway, the Inquisition at Goa was abolished, and the very building, which was the scene of such horrid cruelties, has fallen into decay.

In Spain, too, this monstrous institution no longer exists.—[_Editor of the Presbyterian._]