During the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, and in the Pontificate
of Innocent VIII. the Inquisition was established for the
prosecution of heretics. It was originally intended to take
cognizance of only the Jews and Moors--but so rapidly did it extend
its influence, that during the sway of Torquemada, the first
Inquisitor-General, it was calculated that 6000 persons were burnt
by his order; and upwards of 20,000 fell victims in various other
ways. From the above period to the present time, it is impossible
to calculate the number of persons who have fallen victims to its
horrid cruelties. The late revolutions in Spain have abolished the
Inquisition, opened the doors of its prisons, and set the captives
free. This measure alone is a subject of the highest congratulation
to the friends of freedom throughout the world.
[_N. Y. D. Adv._
_Mr. Ellery._--The venerable Mr. Ellery, the subject of the extract
which we give below, was one of the signers of the Declaration
of Independence, and upwards of ninety years old when he died.
The writer of the letter is a gentleman of Rhode Island, of much
distinction, who was intimately acquainted with the deceased.
_Extract of a letter, dated Newport, (R. I.) March 14, 1820_.
"Old Mr. Ellery died like a philosopher. In truth death, in its
common form, never came near him. His strength wasted gradually for
the last year, until he had not enough left to draw in his breath,
and so he ceased to breathe. The day on which he died, he got up and
dressed himself, took his old flag-bottomed chair, without arms,
in which he had sat for more than half a century, and was reading
Tully's Offices in the Latin without glasses, though the print was
as fine as that of the smallest pocket Bible. Dr. W. stopped in on
his way to the Hospital, as he usually did; and on perceiving the
old gentlemen could scarcely raise his eyelids to look at him, took
his hand, and found that his pulse was gone. After drinking a little
wine and water, Dr. W. told him his pulse beat stronger. "O yes,
Doctor, I have a charming pulse. But," he continued, "it is idle to
talk to me in this way. I am going off the stage of life, and it is
a great blessing that I go free from sickness, pain and sorrow."
Some time after, his daughter, finding him become extremely weak,
wished him to be put to bed, which he at first objected to, saying
he felt no pain, and there was no occasion for his going to bed.
Presently after, however, fearing he might possibly fall out of his
chair, he told them they might get him upright in the bed, so that
he could continue to read. They did so, and he continued reading
Cicero very quietly for some time; presently they looked at him and
found him dead, sitting in the same posture, with the book under his
chin, as a man who becomes drowsy and goes to sleep."
_[National Gazette_.
_Benjamin West._--This distinguished American artist died in London
at the advanced age of 82, being born on the 10th of October, 1738,
in Chester county, Pennsylvania. His genius and industry as a
painter have never been surpassed, and his productions will long be
admired for their great and unrivalled merit. He was much attached
to his native country, and took great pleasure in conversing
with his fellow citizens, and giving every facility to American
artists--he viewed our progress in arts and in science, with deep
interest, and his long absence did not alienate his affections from
his native land. "Yesterday," said he to an American, "was fifty
years since I first arrived in London--I remember travelling on
the top of the Canterbury coach, and stopping about two miles from
London, at a mean tavern, and taking a dinner before I entered the
metropolis to seek my fortune; and I could not avoid yesterday going
to the same tavern, calling for a dinner alone in the same room,
looking back on the fifty years I had spent, the progress I had made
in my profession, the friends I possessed, and the adventures I had
met with." This was a singular epoch in the life of an individual.
[_Nat. Advocate._