Chapter XX: Abolition of the Inquisition in Spain

Modern operations of the Inquisition in Spain--Effects of the
French revolution--The Chevalier de St. Gervais--Napoleon decrees
the abolition of the Inquisition--Its demolition by Colonel
Lehmanowsky--Its revival by Ferdinand VII.--Its final overthrow by
the Cortes--Its victims.

Light and knowledge continued to advance in Europe during the eighteenth century. Every intelligent mind perceived by this means the enormous superstitions and cruelty of the papacy; but these advantages, without the blessed principles of the Scriptures, leaving men ignorant of true Christianity, generated infidelity. The papal priesthood, therefore, by whom the sacred books had been taken from the people, suffered a fearful retribution from the infidels in France, in the revolution at the close of the century. The whole Continent was scourged by this event, in the order of Divine Providence. Still the Inquisition carried on its pernicious operations in several countries, particularly in Spain, though its doom was sealed and its overthrow determined. Its deeds, however, were less shocking; but its modern character may be learned from a few facts.

Concerning the Drama in Spain, Sismondi remarks, that “the Lives of the Saints were represented publicly, with the approbation and applause of the Inquisition, in the eighteenth century. But whilst the taste of the people was so eager for this kind of spectacle, and whilst it was encouraged by the clergy, and supported by the Inquisition, the Court, enlightened by criticism and by a better taste, was desirous of rescuing Spain from the scandalous reproach which these pretended pious representations excited among strangers. Charles III., in 1765, prohibited the further performance of religious plays and _autos sacramentales_; and the house of Bourbon had already deprived the people of another recreation, not less dear to them--the _autos da fé_. After the extinction of the Spanish branch of the house of Austria, the Inquisition was no longer allowed to destroy its victims in public; but it has continued, even to our days, to exercise the most outrageous cruelties on them in its dungeons.”

While many wretched beings were sacrificed in private, perishing in the horrid prisons, those who were liberated carried marks of their fearful treatment all through life. Every prisoner, before being dismissed, was bound, under a dreadful curse, to observe the most profound silence as to all that he had seen, and heard, and uttered in the Inquisition. Mr. Townsend relates, that the Dutch consul, with whom he became acquainted during his travels in Spain, in 1787, could never be prevailed on to give an account of his imprisonment in the Inquisition at Barcelona, which happened thirty-five years before, and betrayed the greatest agitation when pressed to say anything about the treatment he had received. His fellow-prisoner, Mr. Falconet, who was but a boy, turned grey-headed during his short confinement; and to the day of his death, though retired to Montpelier, observed the most tenacious silence on the subject.

Inquisitorial domination, however, was at length overthrown by the French Catholic soldiers under Buonaparte. While the troops of France made progress in Spain, in 1807, the Chevalier de St. Gervais, a French officer, was seized and imprisoned by the inquisitors of Barcelona. One day, “after dinner,” he says, “I went to take a walk on that beautiful terrace, which extends along the port in that part called _Barcelonette_. The sides of this walk, which is named the _Longa_, are adorned with fine buildings. I was tranquilly enjoying this delightful place, and the serene evening of the fine day, when, suddenly, six men surrounded and commanded me to follow them. I replied by a firm refusal; whereupon one of them seized me by the collar. I instantly assailed him with a violent blow on the face, which caused him to bellow with pain; but in an instant the whole band pressed on me so closely, that I was obliged to draw my sword. I fought as long as I was able; but not being possessed of the strength of Antæus or Hercules, I was at last compelled to yield. The ruffians endeavoured to inspire me with respect and dread, by saying that they were familiars of the Holy Office. I submitted to force, and was taken to the prisons of the Inquisition.

“As soon as I found myself within the talons of these vultures, I began to ask myself what was my crime, and what I had done to incur the censure of this hateful tribunal. ‘Have these Jacobin monks,’ said I, ‘succeeded to the Druids, who called themselves the agents of the Deity, and arrogated to themselves the right of excommunicating and putting to death their fellow-citizens?’ My complaints were lost in empty air.

“On the following day, a Dominican, shrouded in hypocrisy, and with a tongue of deceit, came to conjure me, by the bowels of Jesus Christ, to confess my faults, in order to the attainment of my liberty. ‘Confess your own faults first,’ said I to him; ‘ask pardon of God for your hypocrisy and injustice. By what right do you arrest a gentleman, a native of France, who is exempted from the jurisdiction of your infernal tribunal, and who has done nothing in violation of the laws of this country?’ ‘Oh! holy Virgin!’ said he, ‘you make me tremble! I will go and pray to God in your behalf, and I hope he will open your eyes and turn your heart!’ ‘Go, pray to the devil,’ said I to myself; ‘he is your only divinity.’ However, on that same day, M. Aubert, having in vain waited for me at the dinner-hour, sent to my hotel to inquire about me. The landlord informed him that I had disappeared on the preceding evening; that my luggage still remained in his custody, but that he was entirely ignorant of what had become of me. This obliging gentlemen, uneasy for my fate, made inquiries concerning me over the whole city, but without being able to gain the smallest intelligence. Astonished at this circumstance, he began to suspect that some indiscretion on my part had drawn down upon me the vengeance of the Holy Office. He begged of the captain-general to demand my enlargement. The inquisitors denied the fact of my detention with the utmost effrontery of falsehood; but M. Aubert, not being able to discover any other probable cause for my disappearance, persisted in believing me to be a prisoner in the Holy Office.

“Next day, the familiars came to conduct me before the three inquisitors; they presented me with a yellow mantle to put on, but I disdainfully rejected this Satanic livery. However, they persuaded me that submission was the only means by which I could hope to recover my liberty. I appeared, therefore, clad in yellow, with a waxtaper in my hand, before these three priests of Pluto. In the chamber was displayed the banner of the Holy Office, on which were represented a gridiron, a pair of pincers, and a pile of wood, with these words--‘JUSTICE, CHARITY, MERCY.’ What an atrocious piece of irony! I was tempted more than once to singe, with my blazing taper, the hideous visage of one of these Jacobins, but my good genius prevented me. One of them advised me, with an air of mildness, to confess my sins. ‘My great sin,’ replied I, ‘is to have entered a country where the priests trample humanity under foot, and assume the cloak of religion to persecute virtue and innocence.’ ‘Is that all you have to say?’ ‘Yes, my conscience is free from alarm, and from remorse. Tremble! if the regiment to which I belong should hear of my imprisonment, they would trample over ten regiments of Spaniards to rescue me from your barbarity.’ ‘God alone is master; our duty is to watch over his flock, as faithful shepherds; our hearts are afflicted at it, but you must return to your prison till you think proper to make a confession of your fault.’ I then retired, casting upon my judges a look of contempt and indignation.

“As soon as I returned to my prison, I most anxiously considered what could be the cause of this severe treatment. I was far from suspecting that it could be owing to my answer to the mendicant friar, concerning the Virgin and her lights.” [One of these having come to his chamber, presenting a purse, and begging a contribution for the tapers to be lighted in honour of the Virgin; he replied, “My good father, the Virgin has no need of lights; she needs only to go to bed at an early hour.”] “However, M. Aubert, being persuaded that the Inquisition alone had been the cause of my disappearance, placed spies upon all their steps. One of these informed him that three monks of the Dominican order were about to set out for Rome, being deputed to the conventual assembly, which was to be held there. He immediately wrote to M. de Colet, commandant at Perpignan, to inform him how I had disappeared, of his suspicions as to the cause, and of the passage of the three Jacobins through Perpignan, desiring him to arrest them, and not set them at liberty, till I should be released.

“M. de Colet embraced with alacrity this opportunity of vengeance, and issued orders at the gates of the town to seize the three reverend personages. They arrived about noon, with high spirits and keen appetites, and demanded of the sentinel which was the best hotel. The officer of the guard presented himself, and informed them that he was commissioned to conduct them to the commandant of the place, who would provide for them lodging and entertainment. The monks, rejoiced at this lucky windfall, overflowed with acknowledgments, and declared they could not think of incommoding the commandant. ‘Come, good fathers, M. de Colet is determined to do you the honours of the city.’ In the meantime he provided them an escort of four soldiers and a sergeant. The fathers marched along with joy, congratulating one another, and delighted with the politeness of the French. ‘Good fathers,’ said M. de Colet, ‘I am delighted to have you in this city. I expected you impatiently, and have provided you a lodging.’ ‘Ah, Monsieur Commandant, you are too good; we are undeserving.’ ‘Pardon me; have you not, in your prison at Barcelona, a French officer, the Chevalier de St. Gervais?’ ‘No, M. Commandant, we have never heard of any such person.’ ‘I am sorry for that, for you are to be imprisoned, and to live upon bread and water, until this officer be forthcoming.’ The reverend fathers, exceedingly irritated, exclaimed against this violation of the law of nations, and then said they resigned themselves to the will of heaven, and that the commandant should answer, before God and the Pope, for the persecution which he was about to exercise against members of the church. ‘Yes,’ said the commandant, ‘I take the responsibility upon myself; meanwhile, you will repair to the citadel.’

“Now, behold the three hypocrites, in a narrow prison, condemned to the regimen of the Pauls and the Hilaries, uttering the loudest exclamations against the system of fasting and the commandant. Every day the purveyor, when he brought them their pitcher of water and portion of bread, demanded whether they had anything to declare relative to the French officer. For three days they persisted in replying in the negative; but, at length, the cries, not of their consciences, but of their stomachs, and their weariness of this mode of life, overcame their obstinacy. They begged an interview with M. de Colet, who instantly waited on them. They confessed that a young French officer was confined in the prisons of the Holy Office, on account of the impious language he had held respecting the Virgin. ‘Undoubtedly he has acted improperly,’ said M. de Colet; ‘but allow the Virgin to avenge herself. Write to Barcelona, to set this gentleman at liberty; in the interim I will keep you as hostages, but I will mitigate your sufferings, and your table shall be less frugally supplied.’ The monks immediately wrote to give liberty to the accursed Frenchman.

“During this interval, vexations, impatience, and weariness took possession of my soul, and made me weary of life. At length, the Inquisition, reading their brethren’s letter, perceived themselves under the necessity of releasing their prey. One of them came to inform me that, in consideration of my youth, and of my being a native of France, the Holy Office had come to the determination to set me free; but that they required me for the future to have more respect for La Madonna, the mother of Jesus Christ. ‘Most reverend father,’ replied I, ‘the French have always the highest respect for the ladies.’ Uttering these words, I rushed towards the door, and when I got into the street, I felt as if I were raised from the tomb once more to life!”

Charles IV. abdicated the throne of Spain, and was succeeded by his son, Ferdinand VII., in 1808; but Napoleon Buonaparte soon compelled him to resign his throne, appointing his own brother Joseph to the throne, while he marched to the capital, and took Madrid on the 4th of December. Knowing the horrid character of the Holy Office, the same day he decreed the suppression of the Inquisition, that its revenues might be applied to the purposes of the government.

Pursuant to this decree, the palace of the Inquisition was demolished, some months after, in revenge for an outrage upon Colonel Lehmanowsky, an officer of the French army. His report of it confirms many of the foregoing details of that dreadful place. He states,--

“In the year 1809, I was attached to that part of Napoleon’s army which was stationed at Madrid. Soult was commander-in-chief and governor of the city. My regiment was the 9th Polish Lancers.

“One night, about ten or eleven o’clock, as I was walking alone in one of the streets of Madrid, two armed men sprang upon me from a doorway; I instantly drew my sword, and defended myself as best I could from their furious attack. While struggling with them, I saw at a distance, crossing the top of the street, the lights of the mounted patrols. French soldiers on guard, with lanterns, rode through the streets of the city at all hours of the night to preserve order. I called to them in French, and as they hastened to my help, my assailants took to their heels; not, however, before I saw by their dress that they belonged to the guards of the Inquisition. Having been in the habit of speaking freely among the people what I thought of the priests and Jesuits, and the Inquisition, I have no doubt that these men were set to watch for me, and to assassinate me. It had been decreed by Napoleon that the Inquisition and the monasteries should be suppressed. Months, however, had passed away, without the decree being executed.

“I went that night directly to Marshal Soult, told him what had taken place, and reminded him of the emperor’s decree. He said, I might go the next morning, and destroy the Inquisition; giving me charge, at the same time, to take care of the pictures, library, and other things of value. I replied, that my regiment was not sufficient for such a service, but if he would give me the 117th of the line, and another regiment, which I named, I would undertake the work. The colonel of the 117th, Colonel De Lile, was an intimate friend of my own, and is now the pastor of an evangelical church in France. Marshal Soult gave me the troops required. That night the expedition was arranged, and next morning we proceeded at break of day to the Inquisition, which was about five miles distant from the city.

“A wall of great strength surrounded the buildings. I went forward with a company of soldiers, and addressing one of the sentinels on the wall, summoned those within to surrender, and to open the gates to the imperial army. The man withdrew, and after conversation apparently with someone within, he re-appeared, presented his musket, and shot one of my men. This was a signal of attack, and returning to my troops, who had halted at a distance out of sight, I ordered them to advance, and to fire upon those who appeared on the walls.

“It was soon obvious that it was an unequal warfare. The garrison was numerous, and on the walls there was a strong breastwork, from behind which they kept up a destructive fire upon our men on the open plain. We had no cannon; our scaling ladders were insufficient, the walls being higher than we expected; and the gates resisted all attempts at forcing them. Wishing to get through the work as quietly, as well as quickly, as possible, I directed some trees to be cut down and trimmed, to be used as battering rams. Selecting a place where the ground sloped a little toward the wall, and so gave advantage to my men to cover with their fire those engaged in the assault, two of these battering rams were brought to bear upon the walls. Presently the walls began to tremble; a breach was made, and the imperial troops rushed into the Inquisition.

“Here we met with a scene, for which nothing but jesuitical effrontery is equal. The inquisitor-general, followed by the fathers in their robes, all presented themselves, as we were making our way into the interior of the place, with their arms crossed on their breasts, their fingers resting on their shoulders, as though they had been deaf to all the noise of the attack and defence, and had just learned what was going on. They addressed themselves in the language of rebuke to their own soldiers, saying, ‘Why do you fight our friends the French?’

“Their intention, no doubt, was to make us think that the defence was wholly unauthorised by them, hoping, if they could make us believe that they were friendly, they should have a better opportunity of escaping. Their shallow artifice did not succeed. I ordered them to be placed under guard, and all the soldiers of the Inquisition, who had not escaped in the confusion, to be secured as prisoners.

“We then proceeded to explore the rooms of the stately edifice. We passed through hall after hall, richly furnished; we found splendid paintings; a rich and extensive library; and everywhere beauty, splendour, and order, such as I had never seen in any palace. The architecture, the furniture, the ornaments, were such as pleased the eye and gratified the taste. But where were the gloomy cells and horrid instruments of torture, which one had been taught to expect to find in an Inquisition? We looked for them in vain. The holy fathers seemed surprised at our expecting to find any such things; assured us that they had been belied; and that the holy Catholic church, in this as in other things, was grossly misrepresented.

“Although I saw through the cunning villany of the fathers in these remarks, and knew how the Romish church always affects to deny its crimes and cruelties when it carries them into execution, I was ready to believe, after our careful search, that this Inquisition was different from others of which I had heard. My friend, De Lile, was not, however, so easily convinced. ‘Colonel,’ said he to me, ‘you are commander to-day, and as you say, so it must be; but if you will be advised by me, let us have another search; I do not believe we have seen everything yet. We accordingly again began to explore, especially in the parts under ground. By marking well what portion of the buildings we were beneath, we found that we had been under every part, except the great chapel of the Inquisition, and the buildings adjoining. The floor of this chapel was formed of vast slabs of rich marble. The floors of the other parts of the Inquisition were either of marble or of highly polished wood. We could find no entrance to vaults, or other indication of anything being below the chapel. Being now ready to give up the search, a thought struck Colonel De Lile, who was still sanguine of discovery. ‘Let us get water,’ he said, ‘and pour it over this floor, and see if there is any place where it passes through more freely than others. Water was immediately brought, and a careful examination made of every seam, none of the slabs being cemented, to see if the water passed through. Presently one of the soldiers cried out that he had found it! By the side of one of the marble slabs the water was passing through fast, as though there were an opening beneath. All hands were now set at work for further discovery. The officers with their swords, and the men with their bayonets, were trying to clear out the seam and to raise the slab. Others began to strike the slab, with all their might, with the butts of their muskets, in order to break it. The fathers, who had been looking on with the greatest dismay, now broke out in loud remonstrance against our desecration of their holy and beautiful house. As they were thus engaged, one of the soldiers, who was busy with the butt of his musket, struck a part of the marble under which was a spring, and the slab partly flew up; then the faces of the inquisitors grew pale, and they trembled, as Belshazzar, when the handwriting appeared on the wall. The marble slab being raised, the top of a staircase appeared. I stepped to the altar, and took one of the long candles which was burning, some of my men doing the same, that we might see to explore what was below. One of the inquisitors here came up to me, and laying his hand gently on my arm, said, with a demure and holy look, ‘My son, you must not take those lights with your bloody hands; they are holy.’ ‘Well,’ said I, pushing him back, ‘I will take a holy thing to shed light on iniquity; I will bear the responsibility.’ We proceeded down the staircase.

“On reaching the floor, the first room we entered was a large square hall, on one side of which was a raised platform with seats, the centre one being raised considerably, being the throne of the inquisitor-general. In the centre of the hall was a large block, with a chain fastened to it, where the accused were chained during their examinations.

“On leaving the hall of judgment, we proceeded along a passage with numerous doors. These were the cells of solitary imprisonment, from which the miserable victims were never brought out, except it were for torture. Within some of these cells we heard sounds as we advanced. On opening the doors we witnessed such sights as I wish never to see again, the details of which are too horrible to relate. _In some cells we found bodies apparently but a short time dead. Others were in various stages of decay; and we saw some, of which little but the bones remained, still fixed by chains to the floor of the dungeon._ To prevent this corruption being offensive to the occupants of the Inquisition, there were flues extending along the roofs of the cells and carrying the odour off to the open air. _Among the living prisoners we found aged men and women of threescore years and ten, youths and girls of fourteen or fifteen, and others in the prime of life._ Some had been there for many years, and had lost count of the time since they entered. The soldiers went to work to release them from their chains, and took from their knapsacks their over-coats and other clothing to cover their nakedness. They were eager to be taken to the light of day, but having heard of the danger of this, I caused food to be given to them, and then directed them gradually to be brought out to the light as they were able to bear it.

“We then proceeded to explore another room where there were instruments of torture. One of these was a machine, on which the victim was stretched, and every joint of the body, beginning with the fingers, was racked, until the sufferer swooned away or died. Another engine consisted of a box, in which the head and neck were immoveably confined by a screw, and over this box was a vessel, from which, drop by drop, water fell every second upon the head. This perpetual drop, falling on the same spot, caused most excruciating agony--agony, ending, ere long, in raving madness. Another infernal machine lay along horizontally, to which the sufferer was bound, and then was placed between two beams, on which scores of knives were fixed, so that by turning the machine with a crank, the flesh was torn from the limbs in small pieces. A fourth machine surpassed the others in fiendish ingenuity. Its exterior was a beautiful woman, richly dressed, with arms extended to embrace the victim; around her feet a semicircle was drawn. Whoever stepped over this line touched a spring, which caused the diabolical engine to open, and a thousand knives pierced him with deadly force.

“The sight of these engines of infernal cruelty kindled the fury of the soldiers, already enraged with the resistance they met with, and the death of their comrades in assaulting the walls. They declared that they would put their prisoners to the torture. I could not stem their fury. They began with the holy fathers. They put one on the machine for racking the joints. Another was put under the dropping water, and terrible was the agony he seemed to suffer. The inquisitor-general was brought before the machine called ‘The Virgin,’ and commanded to kiss it. ‘You have caused others to kiss it,’ said the soldiers, ‘now you must do it.’ They pointed their bayonets, and pushed him over the fatal circle. The beautiful image instantly prepared for the embrace, clasped him in its arms, and he was cut to pieces. My heart sickened at this awful scene, and I saw no more.

* * * * *

“In the meantime, the report had reached Madrid, that the prisons of the Inquisition were open! Multitudes already were hastening to the place. Fathers there were who found long-lost daughters; mothers their sons; wives were restored to their husbands; sisters and brothers met once more. Some were friendless and unrecognised. The scene of mingled joy, surprise, and anguish, no tongue could describe.

“While this was going on,” said Colonel Lehmanowsky, “I gave orders for the library, paintings, and furniture to be carefully removed, and sent to the city for a large quantity of gunpowder. Placing this in the vaults and subterranean places of the buildings, and a slow match being set, we all withdrew to a distance, and awaited the result in silence. Presently, loud cheers rent the air; the walls and turrets of the massive structure rose majestically towards the heavens, impelled by the tremendous explosion, and fell back to the earth--a vast heap of ruins. The Inquisition was no more!”

Terrible as was this overthrow of the Inquisition at Madrid, it still existed in other cities of Spain; and Mr. Jacobs, travelling in that country, was permitted, in 1809, to view some of the buildings of the Holy Office at Seville. But he was allowed to see only the light, clean, and cheerful apartments, being unable to obtain any reply to his inquiries, whether there were any prisoners in dungeons, or any instruments of torture!

Intelligence continued to advance in Spain, and a reformation seemed determined on; so that, in 1813, the Cortes decreed the abolition of the Inquisition in every part of the country, as pernicious to the interests of the community, and incompatible with the constitution. But Ferdinand being restored to the throne, he entered Madrid, May 14, 1814; and, influenced by the priesthood, issued his proclamation, on the 21st of July, for the re-establishment of the Holy Office. He gave intimation of some alteration in its mode of administration; and Don Francisco Xavier, “the most excellent lord-inquisitor-general,” published his first edict, April 5, 1815. Little improvement was effected in the court; yet it was restrained by being partially under secular authority. In 1820, however, the Cortes finally abolished the Inquisition, and it has never since been restored in Spain.

Blaquire, the historian of the Spanish Revolution, states, in writing from Madrid, in October, 1820,--“If reports which I have heard both here and at Saragossa be true, the torture must have been resorted to in several instances. Amongst the memoranda found on the walls of the Inquisition here, one, after declaring the innocence of the writer, points out _his mother as his accuser_; another seems to have been traced by a victim upon whom the torture of _la pendola_ had been exercised. This was performed by placing the sufferer in a chair sunk into the earth, and letting water fall on the crown of his head, from a certain height, in single drops. Though far from appearing so, the _pendola_ is supposed to have been the most painful operation practised by the defenders of the faith. In a third inscription, dated on the 11th of November, 1818, the writer complains of having been shut up for a political offence, and in consequence of a false denunciation.”

When the Inquisition was thrown open, in 1820, by order of the Cortes, _twenty-one_ prisoners were found in it, not one of whom knew the name of the city in which he was; some had been confined three years, some a longer period, and not one knew perfectly the nature of the crime of which he was accused. One of these prisoners had been condemned, and was to have suffered on the following day. His punishment was to be death by the _pendulum_. The method of thus destroying the victim was as follows:--The condemned was fastened in a groove upon a table, on his back; suspended above him was a pendulum, the edge of which was sharp; and it was so constructed as to become longer with every movement. The wretch saw this implement of destruction swinging to and fro above him, and every moment the keen edge approaching nearer and nearer; at length it cut the skin of his nose, and gradually cut on until life was extinct. This, it appears, was one of the substitutes for the more barbarous exhibitions in public, when the inquisitors did not dare to perform an _auto da fé_. And this, let it be remembered, was one of the modes of punishing those accused of heresy, by the secret tribunal of the Romish Inquisition, A.D. 1820!

Spain still groans under the dreadful domination of popery. Christian liberty is unknown to her people. They are kept by the Romish priesthood in a state of the most debasing ignorance, bound with the chains of a deplorable superstition. They are still held by the gloomy spirit of the Inquisition, though its courts are not in operation; but the more intelligent--and the number of this class, even in Spain, is believed to be increasing--enumerate, with horror, its past victims. The most complete estimate of the wretched sufferers by the “Holy Office” has been made by Jean Antoine Llorente, Secretary of the Inquisition at Madrid, in 1789-1790. In the “Preface” to his valuable “History” of that court, he says, “My perseverance has been crowned with success far beyond my hopes; for, in addition to an abundance of materials, obtained with labour and expense, consisting of unpublished manuscripts and papers mentioned in the inventories of deceased inquisitors and other officers of the institution, in 1809, 1810, and 1811, when the Inquisition in Spain was suppressed, _all the archives were placed at my disposal_; and, from 1809 to 1812, I collected everything that appeared to me of consequence in the registers of the council of the Inquisition, and in the provincial tribunals, for the purpose of compiling this History.”

Llorente gives the following as the total numbers of the victims, ascertained from the records of the Inquisition in Spain:--

Persons who were condemned and perished
in the flames 31,912
Persons burnt in effigy 17,659
Persons condemned to severe penances 291,450
-------
Total 341,021

Besides these, however, it is presumed that very many died under torture by the inquisitors, and that large numbers perished in prison, without any record on earth being made of their sufferings or their names. The last person that was publicly burnt by the inquisitors in Spain, is said to have been a Beata; and she was charged with having entered into a compact with the devil: she suffered, November 7th, 1781.

Spain, at present, is proverbial for its degradation, under the blighting intolerance and bigotry of popery. This is testified by intelligent travellers, who represent the debasement of the nation as resulting from the past operations and the remaining spirit of the Romish Inquisition. The testimony of two of these discriminating observers of society may suffice for the present purpose.

Captain Widdrington, R.N., in his volumes on “Spain and the Spaniards,” in 1843, cites from Gibbon, “What has Spain done with the _four hundred cities_ she once possessed?” and replies, “Spain might answer to the pithy question, ‘Ask the _church_, they can, perhaps, inform you.’ It is not owing to the _church_,” he adds, “but to the ecclesiastical bodies under that name, whose will was the law for so many ages, that Spain has all but been erased from amongst the nations of the earth. The persecutions of the Jews; the expulsion of the Moriseoes; the locking-up of vast properties in mortmain; and the final establishment of the dreadful tyranny, to consolidate and keep these enormities together, have destroyed the resources of the country, and converted, probably, one-half of the finest part of it into _despoblados_. These causes, and not the discovery of America, have reduced this first of European kingdoms to the state in which we behold it. Where are the forty towns of Toledo, that have disappeared since the time of Philip II.? Ask the _priesthood_, for they are the real authors of such destruction. Where are the industrious people that teemed in Andalusia, the very names of whose locations are lost, although they once filled the country along the Guadalquivir, making it one vast garden and continued line of towns and villages? Ask the advisers and directors of the Catholic kings. Who have caused the reduction of Estremadura, nearly the most beautiful region in all Europe, to a vast _despoblado_? The same authorities. Let the traveller go from Burgos to Valladolid, and thence to Leon, returning by Benevente, or shape his course as he may in that region, he will see everywhere--amid the most fertile land, producing everything to gladden the heart of man--little more than the ruins of decayed villages and towns--the shadows and spectres of former wealth and prosperity; the same heads and hands have produced these fatal consequences--a state of things to which there is, happily, no parallel in Europe!”

Again, this intelligent author remarks:--“There is one very important historical fact to notice, which may help to explain some of the anomalies now daily being manifested. Until this generation, the ruling, consolidating, all-pervading, and all-managing principle of the government was the ecclesiastical power. This was the lever that raised the nation, and kept it up during the war of independence. Now this cause having been removed, as we have seen, rather abruptly--not lowered by gradual progress, but suddenly, and to many, unexpectedly--as yet no counterpoise has been applied to supply the place; so that the people, in the time of public excitement, are like a vessel that has suddenly lost her rudder in an Atlantic gale.”

Mr. Hughes, in his “Revelations in Spain, in 1845,” states the hatred cherished by the Spaniards against the English--though so deeply indebted to our country for having effectually aided them against the French and Napoleon--on account of our being Protestants, of whose religious principles they are profoundly ignorant, through the misrepresentations of their Romish priests; and he remarks, “If there is no Inquisition now-a-days invested with the ancient terrors, the dregs of its spirit survives in enforced religious observances. The regulation enforced by the council of Lateran, which requires every member of the Catholic church to approach the sacraments of confession and communion at Easter time, is sought to be made universally stringent to this day, not by the exploded horrors of excommunication and deprivation of Christian burial, but by minor pains and penalties. A fine is levied from every person who does not perform these religious functions at Easter. The poorer classes throng the churches in crowds during the latter weeks of Lent. The overworked clergy perform their duties in a necessarily brief and perfunctory manner; ten minutes dispose of each loaded conscience, and absolution is pronounced. Perhaps the worst feature of the system is the coercion exercised upon the female population of Spain. No young woman can manage to get married, unless she produce a certain number of tickets from her parish clergyman, attesting her regular approach to the tribunal of penance at stated intervals. There is need of much reformation in these respects; but there are few indications of an apostolical spirit in Spain; few tokens of the energy of good ecclesiastics!”

Testimonies of this kind might be multiplied, from most respectable authors, regarding the condition of Spain, not only declaring the desolation of that beautiful country, but affirming that the superstition and degradation of its people arise from the blind policy, and the intolerant operations of popery.

Spanish priests, educated and disciplined according to the established principles of the Romish court, may well be presumed to be ignorant, in a great degree, that the evils afflicting their country result from their ecclesiastical system. But it can hardly be supposed that all of them are entirely ignorant of the Holy Scriptures, and the national benefits that flow from the acknowledgment of them as the Divine rule of Christianity. Many of them must have become acquainted with the sacred doctrines and holy maxims of the oracles of God; and, therefore, a fearful amount of guilt must attach to the superiors in the priesthood. They must be regarded as responsible to the Almighty for the evils prevailing in their country, and they must merit the severest denunciations uttered against the Scribes and Pharisees, who by their traditions made void the law of God. And while, by their priestcraft and disallowance of the Scriptures, they injure both the temporal and eternal interests of their people, the priests in Spain must incur the righteous displeasure of the Eternal Judge!