and barbarity, should triumph over the piety, the liberty, and the happiness, of mankind. The Jews were, at this time, nearly the masters of Spain: and there existed between them, and the Catholic body, a mutual, and mortal, hatred. The Cortes, therefore, now demanded the introduction of severe, and coercive, measures against them. In 1391, they rebelled: and multitudes of them perished. As, however, the danger was, every day, increasing, Ferdinand, surnamed "the Catholic," conceived, that, in order to save Spain, nothing would contribute more effectually than the Inquisition. To this, Isabella, at first, made strong objection. But, at length, she was induced to consent: and Sixtus IV., in the year 1478, issued out the Bulls of institution.

Permit me, again, my Lord, before I proceed any farther,— to suggest to your consideration another important observation: It is this, that never can any great political disorder,-but, above all, any violent attack upon the body of the state,—be prevented, or repelled, but by the adoption of means, alike violent, and energetic. This is one of the most incontestable axioms in the code of politics. In all real, and imminent, dangers, the rule of Roman prudence,-" Videant Consules, ne respublica detrimentum capiat," is the dictate of enlightened policy. In regard of the methods to be employed, or actually employed, on such occasions, the best are those,-I, of course, exclude crime, and injustice,-the best are those, which succeed. If you consider only the severities of Torquemada, without calculating the evils, which they prevented,—you, in this case, cease

to reason.

Wherefore, let us constantly bear in mind this fundamental truth,―That the Inquisition, in its origin, was an institution, demanded, and established, by the kings of Spain, under very difficult, and extraordinary, circumstances. This is expressly acknowledged by the Committee of the Cortes. (Rep. p. 37). And the reason, which that assembly assigns for its suppression, is simply the consideration, that, "as circumstances are now changed, so the Inquisition is now, no longer, necessary.” (R. Ibid).

People have often expressed their surprise at seeing the Inquisitors overload an accused person with a multiplicity of

questions, in order to ascertain the fact, whether or not, in his genealogy, he retained any portion, or drop, of Jewish, or Mahometan, blood. "What matters it," they say, "to know, who was the grandfather, or the great-grandfather, of the accused?" What matters it? It, at that time, mattered greatly because both of the proscribed races, being still intimately connected, and allied, with the great families of the state, must necessarily, either have trembled, or have created terror. (R. Ibid. p. 67).

Under these circumstances, it became a concern of prudence to strike, and alarm, the imagination, by constantly holding out the threat of the anathema, attached to the suspicion of Judaism, and Mahomitanism. It is a great mistake to suppose, that, in order to get rid of a powerful enemy, it suffices always merely to arrest him. You must subdue him; or you have done nothing.

With the exception of a small number of enlightened individuals, you hardly ever, in society, meet with a person, who, speaking of the Inquisition, is not impressed with three capital errors; and these so fast riveted to the mind, as not to yield to the very plainest demonstrations.

For example, the public, every where believe, that the Inquisition is a purely ecclesiastical tribunal,—a notion, which, in the first place, is false. Secondly, they believe, that the ecclesiastics, who sit in this tribunal, condemn certain accused criminals to death. This again is false. Thirdly, they believe, that the tribunal condemns men for entertaining mere simple opinions. This, too, is another falsehood. (c)

The tribunal, then, of the Inquisition, is purely, and completely, Royal. It is the King alone, who appoints the Inquisitor General. And the Inquisitor General, in his turn, nominates the particular Inquisitors, subject to the approval of the King. The constitutional rules, and order, of the tribunal were drawn up, and published, in the year 1484, by Cardinal Torquemada, " in concert with the King." (R. p. 32).

The inferior Inquisitors possessed no power to do any thing without the approbation of the Grand Inquisitor: neither could the latter do aught without the concurrence, and sanction, of the Supreme Council. This Council was not established by any Bull of the Pope; so that in the case of the General Inqui

sitor's charge becoming vacant, the members of the tribunal proceeded to act, alone,—not as ecclesiastical, but as royal, Judges. (R. p. 34, 35).

The Inquisitor General, in virtue of the Bulls of the Sovereign Pontiff; and the King, in virtue of his royal prerogatives, constitute the authority, which has always regulated the tribunals of the Inquisition. These tribunals are, thus, at once ecclesiastical, and royal; so that, on the supposition of one or other of the two powers receding, the action of these tribunals would, in such case, be necessarily suspended. (R. p. 36).

The committee of the Cortes, in their Report, have thought proper to represent the two powers, as in a state of equilibrium, in the tribunals of the Inquisition. But, no one, surely, can be the dupe of such misrepresentation,-or of the falsehood of this pretended equilibrium. The Inquisition is purely a royal instrument, completely, and exclusively, under the control of the King; and powerless to do evil, save through the fault of his ministers. If the proceedings in any cause are not regular; or the proofs not clear, the King's Councillors can always,where there is question of capital punishments,—at once, and by one word, annul the whole process. Neither religion, nor the priesthood, have, in such cases, any thing at all to do, in the concern. If unhappily it do so chance, that the accused is punished, without being guilty, the fault, and the injustice, would then be, either in the King, whose laws had unjustly ordained the punishment; or else, in the magistrates, who unjustly inflicted it. But, of this I will cite the proofs, hereafter.

You may remark, my Lord, that, among the numberless declamations, which have been published against the Inquisition, you never trace so much as one word, respecting this distinctive character of the tribunal,-a circumstance, however, which, in justice, all writers on the subject ought essentially to have remarked. Thus, Voltaire, for example, in a hundred passages of his works, describes the tribunal, as the instrument exclusively of priestly cruelty, and injustice:

Ce sanglant tribunal,

Ce monument affreux du pouvoir monacal,

Que L'Espagne a reçu; mais, qu' elle même abhorre;

Qui venge les autels, mais qui les déshonore,
Qui, tout couvert de sang, de flammes entouré,
Egorge les mortels avec un fer sacré.

Now, this tribunal,—although thus frightfully depicted,—is, nevertheless, the tribunal of a nation, distinguished for its wisdom, its moderation, and its high sense of honour. It is a tribunal, strictly royal, composed of such members only of the clergy, as are remarkable for their learning, and their abilities; and who, judging of real crimes, in virtue of the public, and pre-existing laws, pronounce their sentence, with a measure of equity, and wisdom, which, perhaps, could no where be found in any other Court of Justice. They never condemn any one, however criminal,—to death. Hence, then, in what terms, can I express the infamy of the base calumniator, who, in the above verses, thus insolently misrepresents an order of men, who, so far from being cruel, are even remarkable for their clemency, and moderation. But, the truth is,-Voltaire had his reasons for hating all authority.

If men were, all of them, wise, and well instructed, the absurdities, and falsehoods, like the foregoing, would excite only their ridicule, and contempt. But, unfortunately, such is not the case. The public,—ignorant, and prejudiced,—are easily imposed upon, and deceived. And the consequence is, that, cheated by the gross misrepresentations of a host of calumniating writers, they look upon the Inquisition, as a club of stupid, and ferocious, monks, who roast men for their own amusement. Nay, it is even true,-such is the force of prejudice, and ignorance,-that the same erroneous, and unjust, notions, prevail even in the minds of a multitude of individuals, who, in other regards, are distinguished for their good sense. You may find them, moreover, in the works, not unfrequently, of the very defenders of sound, and virtuous, principles. Thus, for example, in the Journal de L'Empire, you may read the following strange passage: "Il est vrai, quoi qu'on en dit, que les Inquisiteurs avoient conservé, jusqu' en 1783, l'habitude, un peu sévère, de bruler solennellement les gens, qui ne croyoient qu' en Dieu. C'étoit là leur tic; mais, hormis ce point, ils étoient de fort bonne composition." (D)

Surely, the author of this passage could never have reflected seriously upon what he writes. Where, then,-in what nation of the globe, does there exist a tribunal, which never condemned any one to death? Or what crime does any civil tribunal commit, which condemns the accused to death, in virtue of a law of the state, ordaining such punishment for the crime, of which he is proved to have been guilty? And where, again, is the Spanish law, which ordains, that the Deists shall be put to death? The boldness of such assertion is as impudent an attempt to impose upon the credulity of the public, as injustice, or bigotry, could well have invented.

Amid the numberless errors, which the enemies of our religion have propagated; and with too deplorable success, impressed deeply on the minds of the public,-I hardly know any, that have surprised me more than the supposition, and belief, that Priests are ever permitted to condemn any one to death. Men may be excused for not knowing the religions of Fo; of Buddha, or of Somonocondom;—although still, whoever undertakes to defame even these preposterous systems, ought, first, in justice, to understand something at least about them. But, for a Christian to be ignorant of the laws of universal Christianity, this, surely, is a disorder, which no apology can justify. For, what eye has not seen that immense, and lucid, Orb, suspended, for eighteen hundred years, between heaven and earth? Or what ear has not heard that eternal axiom of our religion, that The Church Abhors Blood? Who does not know, that the Priest is even forbidden to be a surgeon, lest his consecrated hands shed the blood of a man,-although it be even for his cure? Who does not know, that, in many Catholic nations, the Priest is dispensed with from appearing as a witness, in the trials of life and death? And that, even in the countries, where such condescendence is not allowed,-he is still allowed to enter his protest, that he only appears, as such, in obedience to the laws, and in order to plead for mercy? Never does the Priest erect the scaffold. He ascends it, only as the martyr, or the comforter. He preaches naught but clemency, and pity; and in no corner of the globe, does he shed any other blood, but his own.

"The Church," says Pascal, "the chaste Spouse of the Son