The Prohibition—Gospel Persecuted—Charge of Sorcery—Ofalia.
About the middle of January a swoop was made upon me by my enemies, in
the shape of a peremptory prohibition from the political governor of
Madrid to sell any more New Testaments. This measure by no means took me
by surprise, as I had for some time previously been expecting something
of the kind, on account of the political sentiments of the ministers then
in power. I forthwith paid a visit to Sir George Villiers, informing him
of what had occurred. He promised to do all he could to cause the
prohibition to be withdrawn. Unfortunately at this time he had not much
influence, having opposed with all his might the entrance of the moderado
ministry to power, and the nomination of Ofalia to the presidency of the
cabinet. I, however, never lost confidence in the Almighty, in whose
cause I was engaged.
Matters were going on very well before this check. The demand for
Testaments was becoming considerable, so much so, that the clergy were
alarmed, and this step was the consequence. But they had previously
recourse to another, well worthy of them, they attempted to act upon my
fears. One of the ruffians of Madrid, called Manolos, came up to me one
night, in a dark street, and told me that unless I discontinued selling
my “Jewish books,” I should have a knife “_nailed in my heart_”; but I
told him to go home, say his prayers, and tell his employers that I
pitied them; whereupon he turned away with an oath. A few days after, I
received an order to send two copies of the Testament to the office of
the political governor, with which I complied, and in less than
twenty-four hours an alguazil arrived at the shop with a notice
prohibiting the further sale of the work.
One circumstance rejoiced me. Singular as it may appear, the authorities
took no measures to cause my little despacho to be closed, and I received
no prohibition respecting the sale of any work but the New Testament, and
as the Gospel of Saint Luke, in Romany and Basque, would within a short
time be ready for delivery, I hoped to carry on matters in a small way
till better times should arrive.
I was advised to erase from the shop windows the words “Despacho of the
British and Foreign Bible Society.” This, however, I refused to do.
Those words had tended very much to call attention, which was my grand
object. Had I attempted to conduct things in an underhand manner, I
should, at the time of which I am speaking, scarcely have sold thirty
copies in Madrid, instead of nearly three hundred. People who know me
not, may be disposed to call me rash; but I am far from being so, as I
never adopt a venturous course when any other is open to me. I am not,
however, a person to be terrified by any danger, when I see that braving
it is the only way to achieve an object.
The booksellers were unwilling to sell my work; I was compelled to
establish a shop of my own. Every shop in Madrid has a name. What name
could I give it but the true one? I was not ashamed of my cause or my
colours. I hoisted them, and fought beneath them not without success.
The priestly party in Madrid, in the meantime, spared no effort to vilify
me. They started a publication called _The Friend of the Christian
Religion_, in which a stupid but furious attack upon me appeared, which
I, however, treated with the contempt it deserved. But not satisfied
with this, they endeavoured to incite the populace against me, by telling
them that I was a sorcerer, and a companion of Gypsies and witches, and
their agents even called me so in the streets. That I was an associate
of Gypsies and fortune-tellers I do not deny. Why should I be ashamed of
their company when my Master mingled with publicans and thieves? Many of
the Gypsy race came frequently to visit me; received instruction, and
heard parts of the Gospel read to them in their own language, and when
they were hungry and faint, I gave them to eat and drink. This might be
deemed sorcery in Spain, but I am not without hope that it will be
otherwise estimated in England, and had I perished at this period, I
think there are some who would have been disposed to acknowledge that I
had not lived altogether in vain (always as an instrument of the “Most
Highest”), having been permitted to turn one of the most valuable books
of God into the speech of the most degraded of his creatures.
In the meantime I endeavoured to enter into negotiations with the
ministry, for the purpose of obtaining permission to sell the New
Testament in Madrid, and the nullification of the prohibition. I
experienced, however, great opposition, which I was unable to surmount.
Several of the ultra-popish bishops, then resident in Madrid, had
denounced the Bible, the Bible Society, and myself. Nevertheless,
notwithstanding their powerful and united efforts, they were unable to
effect their principal object, namely, my expulsion from Madrid and
Spain. The Count Ofalia, notwithstanding he had permitted himself to be
made the instrument, to a certain extent, of these people, would not
consent to be pushed to such a length. Throughout this affair, I cannot
find words sufficiently strong to do justice to the zeal and interest
which Sir George Villiers displayed in the cause of the Testament. He
had various interviews with Ofalia on the subject, and in these he
expressed to him his sense of the injustice and tyranny which had been
practised in this instance towards his countryman.
Ofalia had been moved by these remonstrances, and more than once promised
to do all in his power to oblige Sir George; but then the bishops again
beset him, and playing upon his political if not religious fears,
prevented him from acting a just, honest, and honourable part. At the
desire of Sir George Villiers, I drew up a brief account of the Bible
Society, and an exposition of its views, especially in respect to Spain,
which he presented with his own hands to the Count. I shall not trouble
the reader by inserting this memorial, but content myself with observing,
that I made no attempts to flatter and cajole, but expressed myself
honestly and frankly, as a Christian ought. Ofalia, on reading it, said,
“What a pity that this is a Protestant society, and that all its members
are not Catholics.”
A few days subsequently, to my great astonishment, he sent a message to
me by a friend, requesting that I would send him a copy of my Gypsy
Gospel. I may as well here state, that the fame of this work, though not
yet published, had already spread like wildfire through Madrid, and every
person was passionately eager to possess a copy; indeed, several grandees
of Spain sent messages with similar requests, all of which I however
denied. I instantly resolved to take advantage of this overture on the
part of Count Ofalia, and to call on him myself. I therefore caused a
copy of the Gospel to be handsomely bound, and proceeding to the palace,
was instantly admitted to him. He was a dusky, diminutive person,
between fifty and sixty years of age, with false hair and teeth, but
exceedingly gentlemanly manners. He received me with great affability,
and thanked me for my present; but on my proceeding to speak of the New
Testament, he told me that the subject was surrounded with difficulties,
and that the great body of the clergy had taken up the matter against me;
he conjured me, however, to be patient and peaceable, in which case he
said he would endeavour to devise some plan to satisfy me. Amongst other
things, he observed that the bishops hated a sectarian more than an
Atheist. Whereupon I replied, that, like the Pharisees of old, they
cared more for the gold of the temple than the temple itself. Throughout
the whole of our interview he evidently laboured under great fear, and
was continually looking behind and around him, seemingly in dread of
being overheard, which brought to my mind an expression of a friend of
mine, that if there be any truth in metempsychosis, the soul of Count
Ofalia must have originally belonged to a mouse. We parted in kindness,
and I went away, wondering by what strange chance this poor man had
become prime minister of a country like Spain.