Chapter XV: Book III (6)

1. To ascertain whether the inquisition actually refused to recognise the Bible, among the Romish churches in British India.

2. To inquire into the state and jurisdiction of the inquisition, particularly as it affected British subjects.

3. To learn what was the system of education for the priesthood; and

4. To examine the ancient church-libraries in Goa, which were said to contain all the books of the first printing.

He will select from his journal in this place, chiefly what relates to the inquisition. He had learnt from every quarter, that this tribunal, formerly so well known for its frequent burnings, was still in operation, though under some restriction as to the _publicity_ of its proceedings; and that its power extended to the extreme boundary of Hindoostan. That, in the present civilized state of Christian nations in Europe, an inquisition should exist at all under their authority, appeared strange; but that a papal tribunal of this character should exist under the implied toleration and countenance of the British Government; that Christians, being subjects of the British Empire, and inhabiting the British territories, should be amenable to its power and jurisdiction, was a statement which seemed to be scarcely credible; but, if true, a fact which demanded the most public and solemn representation.

_Goa, Convent of the Augustinians,
Jan. 23, 1808._

‘On my arrival at Goa, I was received into the house of Captain
Schuyler, the British resident. The British force here is commanded by
Colonel Adams, of His Majesty’s 78th regiment, with whom I was
formerly well acquainted in Bengal.[283] Next day I was introduced by
these gentlemen to the vice-roy of Goa, the Count de Cabral. I
intimated to his excellency my wish to sail up the river to Old
Goa,[284] (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.

-----

Footnote 283:

The forts in the harbour of Goa were then occupied by British troops
(two king’s regiments, and two regiments of native infantry) to
prevent its falling into the hands of the French.

Footnote 284:

There is Old and New Goa. The old city is about eight miles up the
river. The vice-roy 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.

-----

‘I had communicated to Colonel Adams, and to the British resident, my
purpose of enquiring into the state of the inquisition. These
gentlemen informed me, that I should not be able to accomplish my
design without difficulty; since 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.[285]

-----

Footnote 285:

I was informed that the vice-roy of Goa has no authority over the
inquisition, and that he himself is liable to its censure. 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.

-----

‘It happened that Lieutenant Kempthorne, commander of His Majesty’s
brig Diana, a distant connection of my own, was at this time in the
harbour. On his learning that I meant to visit Old Goa, he offered to
accompany me; as did Captain Stirling, of His Majesty’s 84th regiment,
which is now stationed at the forts.

‘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,[286] it was past twelve o’clock: all the
churches were shut, and we were told that they would not be opened
again till 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 mean
time 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;’[287] 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 day-light, on the morning
of the Auto da Fè. 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 Santa 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.

-----

Footnote 286:

We entered the city by the palace gate, over which is the statue of
Vasco de Gama, who first opened India to the view of Europe. I had
seen at Calicut, a few weeks before, the ruins of the Samorin’s
Palace, in which Vasco de Gama was first received. The Samorin was
the first native prince against whom the Europeans made war. The
empire of the Samorin has passed away; and the empire of his
conquerors has passed away: and now imperial Britain exercises
dominion. May imperial Britain be prepared to give a good account of
her stewardship, when it shall be said unto her, “Thou mayest be no
longer steward!”

Footnote 287:

Monsieur Dellon, a physician, was imprisoned in the dungeon of the
inquisition at Goa for two years, and witnessed an Auto da Fè, when
some heretics were burned; at which he walked barefoot. After his
release he wrote the history of his confinement. His descriptions
are in general very accurate.

-----

‘At two o’clock we went out to view the churches, which were now open
for the afternoon service; for there are regular daily masses; and the
bells began to assail the ear in every quarter.

‘The magnificence of the churches of Goa, far exceeded any idea I had
formed from the previous description. Goa is properly a city of
churches; and the wealth of provinces seems to have been expended in
their erection. The ancient specimens of architecture at this place
far excel any thing that has been attempted in modern times in any
other part of the East, both in grandeur and in taste. The chapel of
the palace is built after the plan of St. Peter’s at Rome, and is said
to be an accurate model of that paragon of architecture. The church of
St. Dominic, the founder of the inquisition, is decorated with
paintings of Italian masters. St. Francis Xavier lies enshrined in a
monument of exquisite art, and his coffin is enchased with silver and
precious stones. The cathedral of Goa is worthy of one of the
principal cities of Europe; and the church and convent of the
Augustinians (in which I now reside) is a noble pile of building,
situated on an eminence, and has a magnificent appearance from afar.

‘But what a contrast to all this grandeur of the churches is the
worship offered in them! I have been present at the service in one or
other of the chapels every day since I arrived; and I seldom see a
single worshipper, but the ecclesiastics. Two rows of native priests,
kneeling in order before the altar, clothed in coarse black garments,
of sickly appearance, and vacant countenance, perform here, from day
to day, their laborious masses, seemingly unconscious of any other
duty or obligation of life.

‘The day was now far spent, and my companions were about to leave me.
While I was considering whether I should return with them, 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 Joseph 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. At first sight he presented the aspect
of one of those acute and prudent men of the world, the learned and
respectable Italian Jesuits, some of whom are yet found, since the
demolition of their order, reposing, in tranquil obscurity, in
different parts of the East. After half an hour’s conversation in the
Latin language, during which he adverted rapidly to a variety of
subjects, and enquired 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 Lieutenant 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 august
tribunal in rank, but the 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 now 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 enquiries 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 present establishment of the inquisition at
Goa, and the names of all the officers. On my 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 at their respective convents;
particularly from a father in the Franciscan convent, who had himself
repeatedly witnessed an Auto da Fè.

-------

‘_Goa, Augustinian Convent, 26th Jan. 1808._

‘On Sunday, after divine service, which I attended, we looked over
together the prayers and portions of Scripture for the day, which led
to a discussion concerning some of the doctrines of Christianity. We
then read the third chapter of St. John’s Gospel, in the Latin
Vulgate. I asked the inquisitor whether he believed in the influence
of the Spirit there spoken of. He distinctly admitted it; conjointly
however he thought, in some obscure sense, with _water_. I observed
that water was merely an emblem of the purifying effects of the
Spirit, and could be _but_ an emblem. We next adverted to the
expression of St. John in his first Epistle; ‘This is he that came by
water and blood: even Jesus Christ; not by water only, but by _water_
and _blood_:—blood to atone for sin, and water to purify the heart;
justification and sanctification: both of which were expressed at the
same moment on the cross. The inquisitor was pleased with the subject.
By an easy transition we passed to the importance of the Bible itself,
to illuminate the priests and people. I noticed to him that after
looking through the colleges and schools, there appeared to me to be a
_total eclipse_ of Scriptural light. He acknowledged that religion and
learning were truly in a degraded state.—I had visited the theological
schools, and at every place I expressed my surprise to the tutors, in
presence of the pupils, at the absence of the Bible, and almost total
want of reference to it. They pleaded the custom of the place, and the
scarcity of copies of the book itself. Some of the younger priests
came to me afterwards, desiring to know by what means they might
procure copies. This inquiry for Bibles was like a ray of hope beaming
on the walls of the inquisition.

‘I pass an hour sometimes in the spacious library of the Augustinian
convent. There are many rare volumes, but they are chiefly
theological, and almost all of the sixteenth century. There are few
classics; and I have not yet seen one copy of the original scriptures
in Hebrew or Greek.’

-------

‘_Goa, Augustinian Convent, 27th Jan. 1808._

‘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 hands; 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.

‘It was on this night that a circumstance happened which caused my
first alarm at Goa. My servants slept every night at my chamber door,
in the long gallery which is common to all the apartments, and not far
distant from the servants of the convent. About midnight I was waked
by loud shrieks, and expressions of terror, from some person in the
gallery. In the first moment of surprise I concluded it must be the
_Alguazils_ of the holy office, seizing my servants to carry them to
the inquisition. But, on going out, I saw my own servants standing at
the door, and the person who had caused the alarm (a boy of about
fourteen) at a little distance, surrounded by some of the priests, who
had come out of their cells on hearing the noise. The boy said he had
seen a _spectre_, and it was a considerable time before the agitations
of his body and voice subsided.—Next morning at breakfast the
Inquisitor apologised for the disturbance, and said the boy’s alarm
proceeded from a ‘phantasma animi,’ a phantasm of the imagination.’

‘After breakfast we resumed the subject of the inquisition. The
inquisitor admitted that Dellon’s descriptions of the dungeons, of the
torture, of the mode of trial, and of the Auto da Fè, 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; and I admitted that, under the pressure of his peculiar
suffering, this might possibly be the case. The inquisitor was now
anxious to know to what extent Dellon’s book had been circulated in
Europe. I told him that Picart had published to the world extracts
from it, in his celebrated work called ‘Religious Ceremonies,’
together with plates of the system of torture and burnings at the Auto
da Fè. 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 this was not
the case. He now began a grave narration to shew that the inquisition
had undergone a change in some respects, and that its terrors were
mitigated.[288]

-----

Footnote 288:

The following were the passages in Mr. Dellon’s narrative, to which I
wished particularly to draw the attention of the inquisitor.—Mr. D.
had been thrown into the inquisition at Goa and confined in a dungeon,
ten feet square, where he remained upwards of two years, without
seeing any person, but the gaoler who brought him his victuals, except
when he was brought to his trial, expecting daily to be brought to the
stake. His alleged crime was, charging the inquisition with cruelty,
in a conversation he had with a priest at Daman, a Portuguese town in
another part of India.

“During the months of November and December, I heard every morning the
shrieks of the unfortunate victims, who were undergoing the
_Question_. I remembered to have heard, before l was cast into prison,
that the Auto da Fè was generally celebrated on the first Sunday in
Advent, because on that day is read in the churches that part of the
Gospel in which mention is made of the LAST JUDGMENT; and the
inquisitors pretend by this ceremony to exhibit a lively emblem of
that awful event. I was likewise convinced that there were a great
number of prisoners, besides myself; the profound silence, which
reigned within the walls of the building, having enabled me to count
the number of doors which were opened at the hours of meals.—However,
the first and second Sundays of Advent passed by, without my hearing
of any thing, and I prepared to undergo another year of melancholy
captivity, when I was aroused from my despair on the 11th of January,
by the noise of the guards removing the bars from the door of my
prison. The Alcaide presented me with a habit, which he ordered me to
put on, and to make myself ready to attend him when he should come
again. Thus saying, he left a lighted lamp in my dungeon.—The guards
returned about two o’clock in the morning, and led me out into a long
gallery, where I found a number of the companions of my fate, drawn up
in a rank against the wall: I placed myself among the rest, and
several more soon joined the melancholy band. The profound silence and
stillness caused them to resemble statues more than the animated
bodies of human creatures. The women, who were clothed in a similar
manner, were placed in a neighbouring gallery, where we could not see
them; but I remarked that a number of persons stood by themselves at
some distance, attended by others, who wore long black dresses, and
who walked backwards and forwards occasionally. I did not then know
who these were: but I was afterwards informed that the former were the
victims who were condemned to be burned, and the others were their
confessors.

“After we were all ranged against the wall of this gallery, we
received each a large wax taper. They then brought us a number of
dresses made of yellow cloth, with the cross of St. Andrew painted
before and behind. This is called the _San Benito_. The relapsed
heretics wear another species of robe, called the _Samarra_, the
ground of which is grey. The portrait of the sufferer is painted upon
it, placed upon burning torches with flames and demons all round.—Caps
were then produced called _Carrochas_; made of pasteboard, pointed
like sugar loaves, all covered over with devils, and flames of fire.

“The great bell of the Cathedral began to ring a little before
sunrise, which served as a signal to warn the people of Goa to come
and behold the august ceremony of the Auto da Fè; and then they made
us proceed from the gallery one by one. I remarked as we passed into
the great hall, that the inquisitor was sitting at the door with his
secretary by him, and that he delivered every prisoner into the hands
of a particular person, who is to be his guard to the place of
burning. These persons are called Parrains, or _Godfathers_. My
Godfather was the commander of a ship. I went forth with him, and as
soon as we were in the street, I saw that the procession was commenced
by the Dominican Friars; who have this honour, because St. Dominic
founded the inquisition. These are followed by the prisoners who
walked one after the other, each having his Godfather by his side, and
a lighted taper in his hand. The least guilty go foremost; and as I
did not pass for one of them, there were many who took precedence of
me. The women were mixed promiscuously with the men. We all walked
barefoot, and the sharp stones of the streets of Goa wounded my tender
feet, and caused the blood to stream: for they made us march through
the chief streets of the city: and we were regarded every where by an
innumerable crowd of people, who had assembled from all parts of India
to behold this spectacle; for the inquisition takes care to announce
it long before, in the most remote parishes. At length we arrived at
the church of St. Francis, which was, for this time, destined for the
celebration of the act of faith. On one side of the altar was the
grand inquisitor and his counsellors; and on the other the vice-roy of
Goa and his court. All the prisoners were seated to hear a sermon. I
observed that those prisoners who wore the _horrible Carrochas_ came
in last in the procession. One of the Augustin monks ascended the
pulpit, and preached for a quarter of an hour. The sermon being
concluded, two readers went up to the pulpit, one after the other, and
read the sentences of the prisoners. My joy was extreme when I heard
that my sentence was not to be burnt, but to be a galley-slave for
five years.—After the sentences were read, they summoned forth those
miserable victims who were destined to be immolated by the holy
inquisition. The images of the heretics who had died in prison were
brought up at the same time, their bones being contained in small
chests, covered with flames and demons.—An officer of the secular
tribunal now came forward, and seized these unhappy people, after they
had each received a _slight blow upon the breast_ from the Alcaide, to
intimate that they were _abandoned_. They were then led away to the
bank of the river, where the vice-roy and his court were assembled,
and where the faggots had been prepared the preceding day.—As soon as
they arrive at this place, the condemned persons are asked in what
religion they choose to die; and the moment they have replied to this
question, the executioner seizes them, and binds them to a stake in
the midst of the faggots. The day after the execution, the portraits
of the dead are carried to the church of the Dominicans. The heads
only are represented, (which are generally very accurately drawn; for
the inquisition keeps excellent limners for the purpose,) surrounded
by flames and demons; and underneath is the name and crime of the
person who has been burned.” _Relation de l’ Inquisition de Goa_,
chap. XXIV.

-----

‘I had already discovered, from written or printed documents, that the Inquisition of Goa was suppressed by royal edict in the year 1775, and established again in 1779. The Franciscan father before mentioned witnessed the annual Auto da Fè, from 1770, to 1775. “It was the humanity, and tender mercy of a good king,” said the old father, “which abolished the inquisition.” But immediately on his death, the power of the priests acquired the ascendant, under the Queen Dowager, and the tribunal was re-established, after a bloodless interval of five years. It has continued in operation ever since. It was restored 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 a criminal than were before necessary;” and, ‘That the Auto da Fè 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; for, as the old father expressed it, ‘Nunc sigillum non revelat Inquisitio.’—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 Fè; 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 shew in the solemnity of his countenance, or in his peculiar demeanor, 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, shew 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 shewing me the inquisition. The buildings are about a quarter of a mile distant from the convent, and we proceeded thither in our _manjeels_.[289] 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.

-----

Footnote 289:

The manjeel is a kind of palankeen common at Goa. It is merely a
sea-cot suspended from a bamboo, which is borne on the _heads_ of four
men. Sometimes a footman runs before, having a staff in his hand, to
which are attached little bells or rings, which he jingles as he runs,
keeping time with the motion of the bearers.

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‘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 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 Fè. 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 multitude 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 further 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 shew me only a certain part of the inquisition, in the hope of satisfying my enquiries 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 own assertions and arguments, regarding the present state of the inquisition, was to shew 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. Shew 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 Fè. 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, and to thank you for your hospitable attentions, (it had been before understood that I should take my final leave at the door of the inquisition, after having seen the interior,) and I wish always to preserve on my mind a favourable sentiment of your kindness and candour. You cannot, you say, shew me the captives and the 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 _Camp Santo Lazaro_, on the river side, where the victims were brought to the stake at the Auto da Fè. It is close to the palace, that the vice-roy 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 in 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.’

The foregoing particulars concerning the inquisition at Goa are detailed chiefly with this view; that the English nation may consider, whether there be sufficient ground for presenting a remonstrance to the Portuguese government, on the longer continuance of that tribunal in India; it being notorious, that a great part of the the Romish Christians are now under British protection. “The Romans,” says Montesquieu, “deserved well of human nature, for making it an article in their treaty with the Carthaginians, that they should abstain from SACRIFICING their CHILDREN to their gods.” It has been lately observed by respectable writers, that the English nation ought to imitate this example, and endeavour to induce her allies “to abolish the human sacrifices of the inquisition;” and a censure is passed on our government for their indifference to this subject.[290] The indifference to the inquisition is attributable, we believe, to the same cause which has produced an indifference to the religious principles which first organized the inquisition. The mighty despot, who suppressed the inquisition in Spain, was not swayed probably by very powerful motives of humanity; but viewed with jealousy a tribunal, which usurped an independent dominion; and he put it down, on the same principle that he put down the popedom, that he might remain pontiff and grand inquisitor himself. And so he will remain for a time, till the purposes of Providence shall have been accomplished by him. But are we to look on in silence, and to expect that further meliorations in human society are to be effected by despotism, or by great revolutions? “If,” say the same authors, “while the inquisition is destroyed in Europe by the power of despotism, we could entertain the hope, and it is not too much to entertain such a hope, that the power of liberty is about to destroy it in America; we might even, amid the gloom that surrounds us, congratulate our fellow-creatures on one of the most remarkable periods in the history of the progress of human society, the FINAL ERASURE _of the inquisition from the face of the earth_.”[291] It will indeed be an important and happy day to the earth, when this final erasure shall take place; but the period of such an event is nearer, I apprehend, in Europe and America, than it is in Asia; and its termination in Asia depends as much on Great Britain as on Portugal. And shall not Great Britain do her part to hasten this desirable time? Do we wait, as if to see whether the power of infidelity will abolish the other inquisitions of the earth? Shall not we, in the mean while, attempt to do something, on Christian principles, for the honour of God and of humanity? Do we dread even to express a sentiment on the subject in our legislative assemblies, or to notice it in our treaties? It is surely our duty to declare our wishes, at least, for the abolition of these inhuman tribunals, (since we take an active part in promoting the welfare of other nations,) and to deliver our testimony against them in the presence of Europe.

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Footnote 290:

Edin. Rev. No. XXXII. p. 449.

Footnote 291:

Edin. Rev. No. XXXII. p.429.

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This case is not unlike that of the immolation of females in Bengal, with this aggravation in regard to the latter, that the rite is perpetrated in our own territories. Our humanity revolts at the occasional description of the enormity; but the matter comes not to our own business and bosoms, and we fail even to insinuate our disapprobation of the deed. It may be concluded then, that while we remain silent and unmoved spectators of the flames of the widow’s pile, there is no hope that we shall be justly affected by the reported horrors of the inquisition.—(_Thus far Dr. Buchannan._)