of God, is always, in imitation of this merciful Being, prepared, and ready, to shed her blood, for the sake of others; but not to shed that of others, for her own sake. She entertains the most decided horror of bloodshed,-proportioned to that particular light, which God has communicated to her. She considers men, not simply as men, but as the images of the God, whom she adores. She cherishes for each, and every, individual, that holy respect, which renders them all, venerable in her sight,—as having been purchased, and redeemed, at an infinite price, in order to become, one day, the temples of the Living God. For these reasons it is, that she looks upon the death of an individual, inflicted without an order from God, not only as an act of murder; but as a sacrilege, moreover,-depriving her thus of one of her members: because whether the person, thus sacrificed, be one of the faithful or not, she still always considers him, either as being one of her children; or else, capable of becoming such."

It is very well known, that no private individual is permitted to require the death of another. Whence, it became necessary to establish public officers to do this, by the authority of the King,—or rather, by that of the Almighty. And hence, again, in order to act as the faithful dispensers of the divine power, in all cases of life, and death, the magistrates have no liberty of judging, and deciding, save by the testimony, and the depositions, of witnesses,-in consequence of which, they can neither, in conscience, pass any sentence, but according to the dictate of the law;-nor condemn any one to death, but him, whom the law condemns. And then, too, if the order of God obliges them to consign the body of the wretched criminal to punishment, the same order of God obliges them, again, to take care of his guilty soul. In all this, there is nothing but what is right, and completely innocent: " and still, so much does the Church abhor the shedding of blood, that she declares all those incapacitated for the service of her altars, who have ever participated in a sentence of death, although this were attended by all the aforesaid religious circumstances."

You cannot, Sir, but admire the beauty, and own the wisdom, of the above theory. Perhaps, however, you may wish, likewise, to know, by experience, the true spirit of the Priesthood,

in relation to this interesting object. Well, then, study, and consider, this, in those countries, or places, where the Priesthood once held, or still holds, the sceptre. A series of extraordinary circumstances had formerly established in Germany a multitude of Ecclesiastical Sovereignties. To judge of these, under the heads of clemency, and justice, you need only to call to your recollection the old German proverb;-"It is good to live under the Crosier." Proverbs, which are the fruit of public experience, are testimonies, which never deceive us. I, therefore, appeal to this authority, which is still farther confirmed by the sanction of every man, who possesses, either memory, or judgment. Never, under those mild, and pacific, governments was there any question of persecution; nor of any capital sentence against the spiritual enemies of the reigning powers.

And what, Sir, shall I say, of Rome? It is, no doubt, under the government of the Sovereign Pontiffs, that the spirit of the Priesthood should manifest itself, the most unequivocally. Now, it is an incontestable, and universally admitted, truth, that never has this government been reproached with aught, but its too great mildness. No where, does there exist a more paternal administration; a more impartial distribution of justice; an order of punishment, more gentle, and humane ;—a measure of toleration more complete. Rome is, perhaps, the only place in Europe, where the Jew is neither humbled, nor ill-treated. At all events, it is most certainly the place, where he is the happiest; for, Rome has always been proverbially called, "The Paradise of the Jews."

In like manner, consult the voice of history.—What government do you, any where, find, that has been less severe, than that of modern Rome, in relation to every kind of anti-religious offences, and disorders? Even during those periods, which are called "the ages of ignorance, and fanaticism,"—not even then, did its spirit, or its practice, vary. Thus, let me just cite to you the example of Clement IV., absolutely scolding the King of France, and this King was St. Louis himself, for having made certain laws against blasphemers, which that Pontiff thought too severe,-intreating him, at the same time, very urgently, in his Bull of July 12th, 1268, to mitigate them. He, moreover, in another Bull of the same date, addressed to the

King of Navarre, remarks to this Prince :-" It is, by no means, advisable to imitate the example of our very beloved Son in Jesus Christ, the Illustrious King of France,-in regard of those too rigourous laws, which he has published against these kinds of crimes."

Voltaire, in some of those moments, when his common sense was not obscured by the clouds, or fever, of irreligion, has, on several occasions, borne very honourable testimony to the Papal government. Thus, in his poem "De la Loi Naturelle," he

says:

Marc-Aurèle, et Trajan, mêloient, au champ de Mars,
Le bonnet du Pontife au bandeau des Césars,
L'univers, reposant sous leur heureux génie,
Des guerres de l'école ignoroit la manie.

Rome, encore aujourd'hui, conservant ces maximes,
Joint le trône à l'autel par des nœuds légitimes.
Ses citoyens en paix, sagement gouvernés,

Ne sont plus conquérans; et sont plus fortunés.

Where such, then, is the evidence of the general character of the Church, why should it, any where, be called in question? Mild, tolerant, charitable, in every nation of the globe,—why, or by what magic,—does it so chance, that she is cruel alone in Spain, a nation, eminently distinguished for its high sense of honour, and for the generosity of its subjects?

I must here premise an important observation: It is this,— that, in the discussion of all questions, be these what they may, there is nothing so essential as to avoid a confusion of ideas.— Wherefore, when we speak, or reason, about the Inquisition, let us always separate, and distinguish, accurately, the conduct of the State from the conduct of the Church. Whatever in this tribunal is rigourous, and frightful,—but, above all, the punishment of death,-all this is purely the concern of the civil government :-it is its affair; and it alone is accountable for it. Whereas, all the clemency, which is so remarkable in this tribunal, is the act and influence, of the Church, which interferes with punishments, only in order, either to suppress, or to mitigate, them. Such is its indelible, and never varying, character.

Not only is it an error,—it is even a crime, to maintain, or yet to suppose, that the Priesthood can ever pronounce the sentence of death upon any one.

In the history of France, there is a grand event,—which is not sufficiently noticed. It is that, which regards the Templars. These unfortunate beings, whether guilty or not, (this is not here the question) petitioned earnestly to be tried by the tribunal of the Inquisition,-" knowing well," say their historians, 66 that, if they could only succeed in obtaining its members for their Judges, they should run no risk of being condemned to death."

The King of France, however, aware of this, and of the inevitable consequences of this appeal of the Templars, formed now his own determination. He shut himself up, alone, with his Council of State; and at once, hastily condemned them to death. This is a fact, which is not, I believe, sufficiently, or generally, known.

At the earlier periods of the Inquisition, and when the greatest severity was chiefly needed, the Inquisitors in Spain used not to inflict any punishment, more rigourous than the confiscation of the criminal's property; and even this was always remitted, whenever he thought proper to abjure his errors, within the term, so called, "of Grace." (Rep. p. 33). It does not appear quite clear from the instrument, thus referred to, at what exact period, it was, that the tribunal of the Inquisition began to pass the sentence of death. This, however, is not material. It suffices to know,-what cannot be called in question,—that it could only have acquired this right, by having become a Royal Institution; and that with the sentences of death the Priesthood, from the nature of their character, had not,-could not have,—any thing at all to do.

In our times, the matter is no longer an object of incertitude. It is now well known, that every important sentence,-even the sentence of simple arrest, was decided by the advice of the Supreme Council, without whose authority, nothing was, in fact, determined. (R. p. 64). Now, this is a circumstance, which pre-supposes, and implies, both the greatest prudence, and the most careful circumspection. But, in short, if it did so happen, that the accused was pronounced a heretic,-the

tribunal, in this case, after having ordered the confiscation of his property,-made him over, for the legal punishment, to the secular arm,—that is, to the Council of Castile,—a body of men, than whom nothing in any nation, could be more enlightened, more learned, or more impartial. If the proofs, alleged against the accused, did not appear evident ;-or if even, though guilty, he did not remain obstinate, the only punishment, which then was inflicted on him, was simply an act of abjuration, performed in the church, and attended by certain prescribed ceremonies. It is true, all this implied a certain measure of disgrace to the family of the criminal: and to the criminal himself it involved the incapacity of exercising any public employment. (R. p. 65). I am, however, perfectly convinced, that, in regard of these latter dispositions, they were but the artifices of clemency, invented for the express purpose of sheltering the greatest criminals. Certain facts, which have come to my own knowledge; and above all, the character itself of the tribunal, leave no doubt whatsoever upon my mind in these respects.

The tribunal of the Inquisition is composed of one Supreme head, named the Grand Inquisitor, who is always, either an Archbishop, or a Bishop;—of eight Ecclesiastical Councillors, of whom six are always seculars, and two regulars,—one of these invariably a Dominican, in virtue of a privilege, granted to the Dominican Order by Philip the Third ;—the other, a Religious of any other Order, according to the regulation of Charles the Third. The youngest of the Secular Councillors acts the part of an Attorney-General; and in certain cases, calls in to his assistance two of the Councillors of Castile. I, however, suppose, at the same time, that they are always called together, whenever there is question of any capital punishment. From this plain, and simple, exposition of facts, you cannot but feel, how groundless, and fictitious, are those two phantoms of Voltaire, as well as of thousands of other ignorant, and prejudiced, writers,-proclaiming the Inquisition, "a bloody, and frightful, monument of monkish power." There is, surely, nothing very terrific in the circumstance of seeing two humble Religious, united with eleven, or thirteen, Judges :—whilst, as for the poor insulted Dominicans, to whom the public prejudice attributes all the odium of the Inquisition, your candour