I saw that my earthly doom was sealed; there was not a single voice in

all Naples to save me from imprisonment for life. Not a tongue in four

hundred thousand that would dare speak one word in my behalf. Father

commanded me to get ready to leave his house forever that very night,

saying the carriage and confessor would be on hand to take me away at

eight o'clock P.M., by moonlight. I got on my knees and begged my father

as a last request that he would allow me to remain three days with my

mother, but he refused. Said he, "That is now beyond my power. Not an

hour can you remain after eight o'clock."

As I knew not when I should see my Tuscan friend again, I begged the

privilege of seeing her for a few moments. I was anxious to ask her

prayers and sympathy, and to put her on her guard, for should the

priests discover her New Testament, they would punish her as they did

me, or as they intended to do to me. But this favor was denied me, and I

could not write to her, for all letters of the scholars in the

convents, are opened under the pretence to prevent them from receiving

love-letters. The Romish church keeps all her dark plans a secret, but

never allows any secret to be kept from the priests.

I went into my room to bid farewell to my home forever. I fell on my

knees and prayed to God for his dear Son's sake to help me, to give me

patience, and to keep me from the sin of suicide. The more I thought

of my utterly unprotected situation and of the savage disposition of my

foes, the priests, the more I thought of the propriety of taking my own

life, rather than live in a dungeon all my days. Such was the power of

superstition over our domestics that they looked upon me as one accursed

of the church, a Protestant heretic, and not one of them would take my

hand or bid me good bye. At tea-time I was not allowed to sit at table

with father, mother, and the confessor, as formerly. But I had my supper

sent up to my room.

A short time after the bell rang for vespers, the carriage being ready,

my father and the confessor with myself and one small trunk got into the

best seats inside, and rode off at a rapid rate. I kept my veil over my

face, and said not a word neither did I shed a single tear; my sorrow,

and indignation was too deep for utterance or even for tears. The priest

and my father uttered not a word. Perhaps my father's conscience

made him ashamed of such vile work--that of laying violent hands on a

defenceless girl of eighteen years of age, for no crime whatever, only

the love of liberty and pure Bible religion. But if the priest was

silent, his vile countenance indicated a degree of hellish pleasure and

satisfaction. Never did piratical captain glory more in seeing a rich

prize along side with all hands killed and out of the way, than my

reverend confessor; yet a short time before he said he loved me as a

daughter. Yes, he did love me, as the wolf loves the lamb, as the cat

loves the mouse and as the boa constrictor the beautiful gazelle. To

my momentary satisfaction we entered the big gate of St. Ursula, for

although I knew I should suffer there perhaps even death, there was some

satisfaction in seeing a few faces that I had seen in my gay and happy

days, now alas! forever gone by! I was somewhat grieved by the cold

reception I received. All seemed to look upon me with horror. But none

of these things moved me; I looked to God for strength, for I felt that

He alone could nerve me for the conflict. The hardest blow of all was,

my dear father left me at the mercy of the priest without one kind look

or word. He did not even shake hands with me, nor did he say farewell.

Oh Popery, what a mysterious power is thine! Thou canst in a few hours

destroy powerful love which it took long years to cement in loving

hearts. When my father had left and I heard the porter lock the heavy

iron gate I felt an exquisite wretchedness come over me. I would have

given worlds for death at that moment. In a few moments the priest rung

a bell, and the old Jezebel the mother Abbess made her appearance. "Take

this heretic, Holy Mother, and place her in confinement in the lower

regions; GIVE HER BREAD AND WATER ONCE IN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS, THE WATER

THAT YOU HAVE WASHED YOUR SACRED FEET IN, NO OTHER; give her straw

to sleep on, but no pillow. Take all her clothing away and give her a

coarse tunic; one single coarse garment to cover her nakedness, but no

shoes. She has grievously sinned against the holy mother church, and now

she mercifully imposes upon her years of severe penance, that her body

of sin may be destroyed and her soul saved after suffering one million

of years in holy purgatory. Our chief duty now, holy mother, in order

to save this lost soul from mortal sin will be to examine her carefully

every, day to ascertain if possible what she most dislikes, or what

is most revolting to her flesh, that whatever it may be, she, must be

compelled to perform it whatever it may cost. Let a holy wax candle burn

in her cell at night, until further orders. And let the Tuscan heretic

be treated in the same way. They are both guilty of the same crimes." At

the word "Tuscan heretic," possessing the spirit of Christ that I knew

on earth. Yet how true it is that misery loves company; there was even

satisfaction in being near my unfortunate friend though our sufferings

might be unutterable. Still I was unhappy in the thought that she was

suffering on my account. Had I never said a word about borrowing a New

Testament, she would never have been suspected as being the direct

cause of my conversion to the truth, and of my renunciation of the vile

confessional.

I was somewhat puzzled to know what kind of a place was meant by the

lower regions; I had never heard of these regions before. But soon two

women in black habits with their faces entirely covered excepting

two small holes for the eyes to peep through, came to me and without

speaking, made signs for me to follow them. I did so without resistance,

and soon found myself in an under-ground story of the infernal building.

"There is your cell," said the cowled inquisitors, "look all around, see

every thing, but speak not; no not for your life. The softest whisper

will immediately reach the ears of the Mother Abbess, and then you are

loaded with heavy chains until you die, for there must be no talking

or whispering in this holy retreat of penance. And," said my jailor

further, "take off your clothes, shoes and stockings, and put on this

holy coarse garment which will chafe thy flesh but will bless thy soul.

Holy St. Francis saved many souls by this holy garment."

As resistance was worse than useless, I complied, and soon found my poor

feet aching with the cold on the bare stone floor. I was soon made to

feel the blessing of St. Francis with a vengeance. My sufferings were

indescribable. It seemed as though ten thousand bees had stung me in

every part. I never closed my eyes for several nights. I laid on my

coarse straw and groaned and sighed for death to come and relieve me of

my anguish. As soon as the holy wax candle was left with me I took it

in my hand and went forth to survey my dungeon; but I did not enjoy

my ramble. In one of the cells, I found my Tuscan friend--that dear

Christian sister--in great agony, having had on the accursed garment for

several days. Her body was one entire blister, and very much inflamed.

Her bones were racked with pain, as with the most excruciating

inflammatory rheumatism. We recognized each other; she pointed to heaven

as if to say 'trust in the Lord, my sister, our sufferings will soon

be over.' I kissed my hand to her and returned again to my cell. I

saw other victims half dead and emaciated that made my heart sick. I

refrained from speaking to any one for I feared my condition, wretched

as it was, might be rendered even worse, if possible by the fiends who

had entire power over me. "O my God!" said I to myself, "why was I born?

O give my soul patience to suffer every pain."

On the fourth day of my imprisonment the jailor brought me some water

and soap, a towel, brush and comb, and the same clothes I wore when I

entered the foul den. They told me to make haste and prepare myself to

appear before the holy Bishop. Hope revived in my soul, for I always

thought that my god-father had some regard for me, and had now come to

release me from the foul den I was in. Cold water seemed to afford much

relief to my tortured body. I made my toilet as quick as I could in such

a place. My feet were so numb and swollen that it was difficult for me

to get my shoes on. At last the Bishop arrived as I supposed, and I

was conducted--not into his presence as I expected, but into that of

my bitterest enemy, the confessor. At the very sight of the monster, I

trembled like a reed shaken by the wind. The priest walked to each of

the doors, locked them, put the keys into a small writing desk, locked

it, took out the key and placed it carefully in his sleeve pocket. This

he did to assure me that we were alone, that not one of the inmates

could by any means disturb for the present the holy meditations of the

priest. He bade me take a seat on the sofa by him. In kind soft words he

said to me, that if I was only docile and obedient, he would cause me

to be treated like a princess, and that in a short time I should have

my liberty if I preferred to return to the world. At the same time he

attempted to put his arm around my waist. In a moment I was on my feet.

While he was talking love to me, I was looking at two large alabaster

vases full of beautiful wax flowers; one of them was as much as I could

lift. Without one thought about consequences, I seized the nearest vase

and threw it with all the strength I had at the priest's head. He fell

like a log and uttered one or two groans. The vase was broken. It

struck the priest on the right temple, close to the ear. For a moment I

listened to see if any one were coming. I then looked at the priest, and

saw the blood running out of his wound. I quaked with fear lest I had

killed the destroyer of my peace. I did not intend to kill him, I only

wished to stun him, that I might take the keys, open the door and run,

for the back door of the priest's room led right into a back path where

the gates were frequently opened daring the day time. This was about

twelve o'clock, and a most favorable moment for me to escape. In a

moment I had searched the sleeve pocket of the priest, found the key and

a heavy purse of gold which I secured in my dress pocket. I opened the

little writing desk and took out the key to the back door. I saw that

the priest was not dead, and I had not the least doubt from appearances,

but that he would soon come to. I trembled for fear he might wake before

I could get away. I thought of my dear Tuscan sister in her wretched

cell, but I could not get to her without being discovered. There was no

time to be lost. I opened the door with the greatest facility and gained

the opening into the back path. I locked the door after me, and brought

the key with me for a short distance, then placed all the keys tinder

a rock. I had no hat but only a black veil. I threw that over my head

after the fashion of Italy and gained the outer gate. There were masons

at work near the gate which was open and I passed through into the

street without being questioned by any one.

As I had not a nun's dress on, no one supposed I belonged to the

Institution. I walked down directly to the sea coast. I could speak a

few English words which I had learned from some English friends of my

father. Before I got to where the boats lay I saw a gentleman whom I

took to be an English or American gentleman. He had a pleasant face,

looked at me very kindly, saw my pale dejected face and at once felt a

deep sympathy for me. As I appeared to be in trouble and needed help,

he extended his hand to me and said in tolerable good Italian, "Como va'

le' signorina?" that is "How do you do young lady?" I asked him what

was his country. "Me," said he, "Americano, Americano, capitano de

Bastimento." (American captain of a ship.) "Signor Capitano," said I,

"I wish to go on board your ship and see an American ship." "Well," said

he, "with a great deal of pleasure; my ship lies at anchor, my men are

waiting; you shall dine with me, Signorina."

I praised God in my soul for this merciful providence of meeting a

friend, though a stranger, whose face seemed to me so honest and so

true. Any condition, even honest slavery, would have been preferred by

me at that time to a convent. The American ship was the most

beautiful thing I ever saw afloat; splendid and neat in all her cabin

arrangements. The mates were polite, and the sailors appeared neat and

happy. Even the black cook showed his beautiful white teeth, as though

he was glad to see one of the ladies of Italy. Poor fellows! Little did

they know at that time what peril I was in should I be found out and

taken back to my dungeon again. I informed the captain of my situation,

of having just escaped from a convent into which I had been forced

against my will. I told him I would pay him my passage to America, if

he would hide me somewhere until the ship was well out to sea. He said

I had come just in time, for he was only waiting for a fair wind, and

hoped to be off that evening. "I have," said he, "a large number of

bread-casks on board, and two are empty. I shall have you put into one

of these, in which I shall make augur-holes, so that you can have plenty

of fresh air. Down in the hold amongst the provisions you will be safe."

I thanked my kind friend and requested him to buy me some needles, silk,

and cotton thread, and some stuff for a couple of dresses, and one-piece

of fine cotton, so that I might make myself comfortable during the

voyage.

After I ate my dinner, the men called the captain and said there were

several boats full of soldiers coming to the ship, accompanied by the

priests. "Lady," exclaimed the captain, "they are after you. There is

not a moment to be lost. Follow me," he continued. "And, Mr. Smith, tell

the men to be careful and not make known that there is a lady on board."

An awful cold chill ran over me. I followed my friend quickly, and soon

found myself coiled in a large cask. The captain coopered the head,

which was missing, and made holes for me to get the air; but the

perspiration ran off my face in a stream. Lots of things were piled on

the cask, so that I had hard work to breathe; but such was my fear

of the priests that I would rather have perished in the cask than be

returned to die by inches.

The captain had been gone but a short time when I heard steps on deck,

and much noise and confusion. As the hatches were open, I could hear

very distinctly. After the whole company were on deck, the captain

invited the priests and friars, about twenty in number, to walk down to

the cabin, and explain the cause of their visit. They talked through an

interpreter, and said that "a woman of bad character had robbed one of

the churches of a large amount of gold, had attempted to murder one

of the holy priests, but they were happy to say that the holy father,

though badly wounded, was in a fair way of recovery. This woman is

young, but very desperate, has awful raving fits, and has recently

escaped from a lunatic institution. When her fits of madness come on

they are obliged to put her into a straight jacket, for she is the most

dangerous person in Italy. A great reward is offered for her by her

father and the government--five thousand scudi. Is not this enough to

tempt one to help find her? She was seen coming towards the shipping,

and we want the privilege of searching your ship."

"Gentlemen," said the captain, "I do not know that the Italian

authorities have any right to search an American ship, under the stars

and stripes of the United States, for we do not allow even the greatest

naval power on earth to do that thing. But if such a mad and dangerous

woman as you have described should by any means have smuggled herself

on board my ship, you are quite welcome to take her away as soon as

possible, for I should be afraid of my life if I was within one hundred

yards of such an unfortunate creature. If you can get her into your

lunatic asylum, the quicker the better; and the five thousand scudi will

come in good time, for I am thinking of building me a larger ship on my

return home. Now, gentlemen, come; I will assist you, for I should like

to see the gold in my pocket." The captain opened all his closets and

secret places, in the cabin and forecastle and in the hold; everything

was searched, all but the identical bread-cask in which I was snugly

coiled.

After something like half an hour's search, the soldiers of King

Ferdinand and the priests of King Pope left the ship, satisfied that the

crazy nun was not on board; for, judging the captain by themselves, they

thought he certainly would have given up a mad woman for the sake of

five thousand scudi in gold, and for the safety of his own peace and

comfort. A few moments after the Pope's friends had left, the excellent

benevolent captain came down, and speedily and gently knocking off a

few hoops with a hammer, took the head out, and I was free once more

to breathe God's free air. I lifted my trembling heart in thanksgiving,

while tears of gratitude rolled down my cheeks. Yet, as we were still

within the reach of the guns of the papal forts, my heart was by no

means at rest. But the good captain assured me repeatedly that

all danger was past, for he had twenty-five men on board, all true

Protestants, and he declared that all the priests of Naples would walk

over their dead bodies before they should reach his vessel a second

time. "And besides," said the captain, "there are two American

men-of-war in port, who will stand up for the rights of Americans. They

have not yet forgotten Captain Ingraham, of the United States ship

St. Louis, and his rescue from the Austrian papists of the Hungarian

patriot, Martin Kozsta." The captain wisely refused to purchase any

needles or thread for me on shore, or any articles of ladies' dress,

for fear of the Jesuitical spies, who might surmise something and cause

further trouble. But he kindly furnished me with some goods he had

purchased for his own wife, and there were needles and silk enough on

board, so that I soon cut and made a few articles that made me very

comfortable during our voyage of thirty-two days to London.

Early the next morning we sailed out of the beautiful harbor of Naples,

with a fair wind. The beautiful ship seemed to fly over the blue sea.

I staid on deck gazing at my native city as long as I could. I thought

then of my once happy home, of my poor, broken-hearted mother, of my

unhappy father. Although he had cast me off through the foul play of

Jesuitical intrigue, my love for my dear father remained the same.

"Farewell, my dear Italy," I said to myself. "When, my poor native land,

wilt thou be happy? Never, never, so long as the Pope lives, and his

wicked, murderous priests, to curse thee by their power."

After we got out into the open sea, the motion of the ship made me feel

very sick, and I was so starved out before I came on board, that what

good provisions I ate on board did not seem to agree with me. My stomach

was in a very bad state, for while I was in the lower regions of the

convent I ate only a small quantity of very stale hard bread once in

twenty-four hours, at the ringing of the vesper bells every evening, and

the water given me was that in which the holy Mother Abbess had washed

her sacred feet. But I must give the holy mother credit for one good

omission--she did not use any soap.

The captain gave me a good state-room which I occupied with an English

lady passenger. This good lady was accustomed to the sea, therefore, she

did not suffer any inconvenience from sea-sickness; but I was very sick,

so that I kept my berth for five days. This good Protestant lady was

very kind and attentive during the whole passage, and kindly assisted me

in getting my garments made up on board. On our arrival in London, the

captain said that he would sail for America in two weeks time, and very

kindly offered me a free passage to his happy, native land; and I could

not persuade him to take any money for my passage from Naples, nor for

the clothing he had given me.

My fellow passenger being wealthy, and well acquainted with people in

England, took me to her splendid home, a few miles from London. At her

residence I was introduced to a young French gentleman, a member of the

Evangelical protestant church in France, and a descendant of the pious

persecuted Huguenots. This gentleman speaks good English and Italian,

having enjoyed the privilege of a superior education. His fervent

prayers at the family altar morning and evening made a very deep

impression on my mind. He became deeply interested in my history, and

offered to take me to France, after I should become his lawful wife.

Though I did not like the idea of choosing another popish country for my

residence, yet as my friend assured me that I should enjoy my protestant

religion unmolested, I gave him my hand and my heart. My lady fellow

passenger was my bridesmaid. We were married by a good protestant

minister. My husband is a wealthy merchant--gives me means and

opportunities for doing good. Home is precious in a foreign land. Our

home is one of piety and peace and happiness. The blessed Bible is read

by us every day. Morning and evening we sing God's praise, and call upon

the name of the Lord. Our prayer is that God may deliver beloved France

and Italy from the curse of popery.

Another proof of the persecuting spirit of Rome is furnished by the

"Narrative of Raffaele Ciocci, formerly a Benedictine Monk, but who now

'comes forth from Inquisitorial search and torture, and tells us what

he has seen, heard and felt.'" We can make but a few extracts from

this interesting little volume, published by the American and Foreign

Christian Union, who,--to use their own language--"send it forth as a

voice of instruction and warning to the American people. Let the facts

be heard and read. They are not to be set aside by an apology for the

dark ages, nor an appeal to the refinement of the nineteenth century.

Here is Rome, not as she WAS in the midnight of the world, but as she

IS at the present moment. There is the same opposition to private

judgment--the same coercive measures--the same cruel persecution--the

same efforts to crush the civil and religious liberties of her own

subjects, for which she has ever been characterized."

Ciocci, compelled at an early age to enter the Catholic College--forced,

notwithstanding his deep disgust and earnest remonstrance, to become a

monk--imprisoned--deceived--the victim of priestly artifice and fraud,

at length becomes a Christian. He is of course thrown into a deeper

dungeon; and more exquisite anguish inflicted upon him that he may be

constrained to return to the Romish faith. Of his imprisonment he says,

"We traversed long corridors till we arrived at the door of an apartment

which they requested me to enter, and they themselves retired. On

opening the door I found myself in a close dark room, barely large

enough for the little furniture it contained, which consisted of a small

hard bed, hard as the conscience of an inquisitor, a little table cut

all over, and a dirty ill-used chair. The window which was shut and

barred with iron resisted all my efforts to open it My heart sunk within

me, and I began to cogitate on the destiny in store for me." The Jesuit

Giuliani entering his room, he asked that the window might be opened

for the admission of light and air. Before the words were finished he

exclaimed in a voice of thunder, "How! wretched youth, thou complainest

of the dark, whilst thou art living in the clouds of error? Dost thou

desire the light of heaven, while thou rejectest the light of the

Catholic faith?"

Ciocci saw that remonstrance was useless, but he reminded his jailer

that he had been sent there for three days, to receive instruction, not

to be treated as a criminal.

"For three days," he resumed, counterfeiting my tone of voice, "for

three days! That would be nothing. The dainty youth will not forsooth,

be roughly treated; it remains to be seen whether he desires to be

courteously entertained. Be converted, be converted, condemned soul!

Fortunate is it for thee that thou art come to this place. THOU WILT

NEVER quit it excepting with the real fruits of repentance! Among these

silent shades canst thou meditate at thy leisure upon the deplorable

state into which thou hast fallen. Woe unto thee, if thou refusest to

listen to the voice of God, who conducts souls into solitude that he

may speak with them." "So saying," he continues, "he abruptly left me. I

remained alone drooping under the weight of a misfortune, which was the

more severe, because totally unexpected. I stood, I know not how long,

in the same position, but on recovering from this lethargy, my first

idea was of flight. But this thought was at once abandoned. There was no

possibility of flight. Without giving a minute account of the manner

in which I passed my wearisome days and nights in this prison, let it

suffice to say that they were spent in listening to sermons preached to

me four times a day by the fathers Giuliani and Rossini, and in the most

gloomy reflections.

"In the mean time the miseries I endured were aggravated by the heat of

the season, the wretchedness of the chamber, scantiness of food, and the

rough severity of those by whom I was occasionally visited. Uncertainty

as to when this imprisonment would be at an end, almost drove me wild,

and the first words I addressed to those who approached me were, 'Have

the kindness to tell me when I shall be permitted to leave this place?'

One replied, 'My son, think of hell.' I interrogated another; the answer

was, 'Think my son, how terrible is the death of the sinner!' I spoke

to a third, to a fourth, and one said to me, 'My son, what will be your

feeling, if, on the day of judgment you find yourself on the left hand

of God?' the other, 'Paradise, my son, Paradise!' No one gave me a

direct answer; their object appeared to be to mistify and confound me.

After the first few days, I began to feel most severely the want of

a change of clothing. Accustomed to cleanliness, I found myself

constrained to wear soiled apparel. * * * For the want of a comb, my

hair became rough and entangled. After the fourth day my portion of food

was diminished; a sign, that they were pressing the siege, that it was

their intention to adopt both assault and blockade--to conquer me by

arms, or induce me to capitulate through hunger. I had been shut up in

this wretched place for thirteen days, when, one day, about noon, the

Father Mislei, the author of all my misery, entered my cell.

"At the sight of this man, resentment overcame every other

consideration, and I advanced towards him fully prepared to indulge my

feelings, when he, with his usual smile, expressed in bland words

his deep regret at having been the cause of my long detention in this

retreat. 'Never could I have supposed,' said he, 'that my anxiety

for the salvation of your soul would have brought you into so much

tribulation. But rest assured the fault is not entirely mine. You have

yourself, in a great degree, by your useless obstinacy, been the cause

of your sufferings. Ah, well, we will yet remedy all.' Not feeling any

confidence in his assurance, I burst out into bitter invectives and

fierce words. He then renewed his protestations, and clothed them with

such a semblance of honesty and truth, that when he ended with this

tender conclusion, 'Be assured, my son, that I love you,' my anger

vanished. * * * I lost sight of the Jesuit, and thought I was addressing

a man, a being capable of sympathising in the distresses of others. 'Ah,

well, father,' said I, 'I need some one on whom I can rely, some one

towards whom I can feel kindly; I will therefore place confidence in

your words.'" After some further conversation, Ciocci was asked if

he wished to leave that place. "If I desire it!" he replied, "what a

strange question! You might as well ask a condemned soul whether he

desires to escape from hell!" At these words the Jesuit started like a

goaded animal, and, forgetting his mission of deceiver, with, knit brows

and compressed lips, he allowed his ferocious soul for one moment

to appear; but, having grown old in deceit, he immediately had the

circumspection to give this movement of rage the appearance of religious

zeal, and exclaimed, "What comparisons are these? Are you not ashamed to

assume the language of the Atheist? By speaking in this way you clearly

manifest how little you deserve to leave this place. But since I have

told you that I love you, I will give you a proof of it by thinking no

more of those irreligious expressions; they shall be forgotten as though

they had never been spoken. Well, the Cardinal proposes to you an easy

way of returning to your monastery." "What does he propose?" "Here is

the way," said he, presenting me with a paper: "copy this with your

own hand; nothing more will be required of you." "I took the paper with

convulsive eagerness. It was a recantation of my faith, there condemned

as erroneous. * * * Upon reading this, I shuddered, and, starting to my

feet, in a solemn attitude and with a firm voice, exclaimed, 'Kill me,

if you please; my life is in your power; but never will I subscribe

to that iniquitous formulary.' The Jesuit, after laboring in vain

to persuade me to his wishes, went away in anger. I now momentarily

expected to be conducted to the torture. Whenever I was taken from my

room to the chapel, I feared lest some trap-door should open beneath

my feet, and therefore took great care to tread in the footsteps of the

Jesuit who preceded me. No one acquainted with the Inquisition will say

that my precaution was needless. My imagination was so filled with the

horrors of this place, that even in my short, interrupted, and feverish

dreams I beheld daggers and axes glittering around me; I heard the noise

of wheels, saw burning piles and heated irons, and woke in convulsive

terror, only to give myself up to gloomy reflections, inspired by the

reality of my situation, and the impressions left by these nocturnal

visions. What tears did I shed in those dreary moments! How innumerable

were the bitter wounds that lacerated my heart! My prayers seemed to me

unworthy to be received by a God of charity, because, notwithstanding

all my efforts to banish from my soul every feeling of resentment

towards my persecutors, hatred returned with redoubled power. I often

repeated the words of Christ, 'Father, forgive them, they know not what

they do;' but immediately a voice would answer, 'This prayer is not

intended for the Jesuits; they resemble not the crucifiers, who were

blind instruments of the rage of the Jews; while these men are fully

conscious of what they are doing; they are the modern Pharisees.' The

reading of the Bible would have afforded me great consolation, but this

was denied me." * * *

The fourteenth day of his imprisonment he was taken to the council

to hear his sentence, when he was again urged to sign the form of

recantation. But he refused. The Father Rossini then spoke: "You are

decided; let it be, then, as you deserve. Rebellious son of the church,

in the fullness of the power which she has received from Christ, you

shall feel the holy rigor of her laws. She cannot permit tares to grow

with the good seed. She cannot suffer you to remain among her sons and

become the stumbling-block for the ruin of many. Abandon, therefore,

all hope of leaving this place, and of returning to dwell among the

faithful. KNOW, ALL IS FINISHED FOR YOU!"

For the conclusion of this narrative we refer the reader to the volume

itself.

If any more evidence were needed to show that the spirit of Romanism is

the same to-day that it has ever been, we find it in the account of

a legal prosecution against ten Christians at Beldac, in France,

for holding and attending a public worship not licensed by the civil

authority. They had made repeated, respectful, and earnest applications

to the prefect of the department of Hante-Vienne for the authorization

required by law, and which, in their case, ought to have been given.

It was flatly refused. They persisted in rendering to God that worship

which his own command and their consciences required. For this they were

arraigned as above stated, on the 10th of August, 1855. On the 26th of

January, 1856, the case was decided by the "tribunal," and the three

pastors and one lady, a schoolmistress, were condemned to pay a fine

of one thousand francs each, and some of the others five-hundred francs

each, the whole amount, together with legal expenditures, exceeding the

sum of nine thousand francs.

Meantime, the converts continue to hold their worship-meetings in the

woods, barns, and secret places, in order not to be surprised by the

police commissioner, and to avoid new official reports.

"Thus, you see," says V. De Pressense, in a letter to the 'American and

foreign Christian Union,' "that we are brought back to the religious

meetings of the desert, when the Protestants of the Cevennes evinced

such persevering fidelity. The only difference is, that these Christians

belonged only a short time ago to that church which is now instigating

persecutions against them."

DESTRUCTION OF THE INQUISITION IN SPAIN.

In 1809, Col. Lehmanowsky was attached to the part of Napoleon's army

which was stationed in Madrid. "While in that city," said Col. L., "I

used to speak freely among the people what I thought of the Priests

and Jesuits, and of the Inquisition. It had been decreed by the Emperor

Napoleon that the Inquisition and the Monasteries should be suppressed,

but the decree, he said, like some of the laws enacted in this country,

was not executed."

Months had passed away, and the prisons of the Inquisition had not been

opened. One night, about ten or eleven o'clock, as he was walking one of

the streets of Madrid, two armed men sprang upon him from an alley, and

made a furious attack. He instantly drew his sword, put himself in a

posture of defence, and while struggling with them, he saw at a distance

the lights of the patrols,--French soldiers mounted, who carried

lanterns, and who rode through the streets of the city at all hours of

the night, to preserve order. He called to them in French, and as they

hastened to his assistance, the assailants took to their heels and

escaped; not, however, before he saw by their dress that they belonged

to the guards of the Inquisition.

He went immediately to Marshal Soult, then Governor of Madrid, told him

what had taken place, and reminded him of the decree to suppress this

institution. Marshal Soult told him that he might go and suppress it The

Colonel said that his regiment (the 9th. of the Polish Lancers,) was not

sufficient for such a service, but if he would give him two additional

regiments, the 117th, and another which he named, he would undertake the

work. The 117th regiment was under the command of Col. De Lile, who

is now, like Col. L., a minister of the gospel, and pastor of an

evangelical church in Marseilles, France. "The troops required were

granted, and I proceeded," said Col. L., "to the Inquisition which was

situated about five miles from the city. It was surrounded by a wall of

great strength, and defended by a company of soldiers. When we arrived

at the walls, I addressed one of the sentinels, and summoned the holy

fathers to surrender to the Imperial army, and open the gates of the

Inquisition. The sentinel who was standing on the wall, appeared to

enter into conversation with some one within, at the close of which he

presented his musket, and shot one of my men. This was the signal of

attack, and I ordered my troops to fire upon those who appeared on the

walls."

It was soon obvious that it was an unequal warfare. The soldiers of the

holy office were partially protected by a breast-work upon the walls

which were covered with soldiers, while our troops were in the open

plain, and exposed to a destructive fire. We had no cannon, nor could

we scale the walls, and the gates successfully resisted all attempts at

forcing them. I could not retire and send for cannon to break through

the walls without giving them time to lay a train for blowing us up.

I saw that it was necessary to change the mode of attack, and directed

some trees to be cut down and trimmed, to be used as battering rams. Two

of these were taken up by detachments of men, as numerous as could work

to advantage, and brought to bear upon the walls with all the power they

could exert, while the troops kept up a fire to protect them from the

fire poured upon them from the walls. Presently the walls began to

tremble, a breach was made, and the Imperial troops rushed into the

Inquisition. Here we met with an incident, which nothing but Jesuitical

effrontery is equal to. The Inquisitor General, followed by the father

confessors in their priestly robes, all came out of their rooms, as we

were making our way into the interior of the Inquisition, and with long

faces, and arms crossed over 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 this defence was

wholly unauthorized by them, hoping, if they could make us believe

that they were friendly, they should have a better opportunity, in the

confusion of the moment, to escape. Their artifice was too shallow, and

did not succeed. I caused them to be placed under guard, and all

the soldiers of the Inquisition to be secured as prisoners. We then

proceeded to examine all the rooms of the stately edifice. We passed

through room after room; found all perfectly in order, richly furnished,

with altars and crucifixes, and wax candles in abundance, but we could

discover no evidences of iniquity being practiced there, nothing of

those peculiar features which we expected to find in an Inquisition.

We found splendid paintings, and a rich and extensive library. Here was

beauty and splendor, and the most perfect order on which my eyes

had ever rested. The architecture, the proportions were perfect. The

ceilings and floors of wood were scoured and highly polished. The marble

floors were arranged with a strict regard to order. There was everything

to please the eye and gratify a cultivated taste; but where were those

horrid instruments of torture, of which we had been told, and where

those dungeons in which human beings were said to be buried alive? We

searched in vain. The holy father assured us that they had been

belied; that we had seen all; and I was prepared to give up the search,

convinced that this Inquisition was different from others of which I had

heard.

But Col. De Idle was not so ready as myself to give up the search, and

said to me, "Colonel, you are commander to-day, and as you say, so it

must be; but if you will be advised by me, let this marble floor be

examined. Let water be brought and poured upon it, and we will watch

and see if there is any place through which it passes more freely than

others." I replied to him, "Do as you please, Colonel," and ordered

water to be brought accordingly. The slabs of marble were large and

beautifully polished. When the water had been poured over the floor,

much to the dissatisfaction of the inquisitors, a careful examination

was made of every seam in the floor, to see if the water passed through.

Presently Col. De Lile exclaimed that he had found it. By the side of

one of these marble slabs the water passed through fast, as though

there was an opening beneath. All hands were now at work for further

discovery; the officers with their swords and the soldiers with their

bayonets, seeking to clear out the seam, and pry up the slab; others

with the butts of their muskets striking the slab with all their might

to break it, while the priests remonstrated against our desecrating

their holy and beautiful house. While thus engaged, a soldier, who was

striking with the butt of his musket, struck a spring, and the marble

slab flew up. Then the faces of the inquisitors grew pale as Belshazzar

when the hand writing appeared on the wall; they trembled all over;

beneath the marble slab, now partly up, there was a stair-case. I

stepped to the altar, and took from the candlestick one of the candles

four feet in length, which was burning that I might explore the room

below. As I was doing this, I was arrested by one of the inquisitors,

who laid his hand gently on my arm, and with a very demure and holy look

said "My son, you must not take those lights with your bloody hands they

are holy." "Well," said I, "I will take a holy thing to shed light

on iniquity; I will bear the responsibility." I took the candle, and

proceeded down the stair-case. As we reached the foot of the stairs

we entered a large room which was called the hall of judgment. In the

centre of it was a large block, and a chain fastened to it. On this they

were accustomed to place the accused, chained to his seat. On one side

of the room was an elevated seat called the Throne of Judgment. This,

the Inquisitor General occupied, and on either side were seats less

elevated, for the holy fathers when engaged in the solemn business of

the Holy Inquisition.

From this room we proceeded to the right, and obtained access to small

cells extending the entire length of the edifice; and here such sights

were presented as we hoped never to see again. Three cells were places

of solitary confinement, where the wretched objects of inquisitorial

hate were confined year after year, till death released them from their

sufferings, and their bodies were suffered to remain until they were

entirely decayed, and the rooms had become fit for others to occupy.

To prevent this being offensive to those who occupied the Inquisition,

there were flues or tubes extending to the open air, sufficiently

capacious to carry off the odor. In these cells we found the remains

of some who had paid the debt of nature: some of them had been dead

apparently but a short time, while of others nothing remained but their

bones, still chained to the floor of their dungeon.

In others we found living sufferers of both sexes and of every age, from

three score years and ten down to fourteen or fifteen years--all naked

as they were born into the world! And all in chains! Here were old men

and aged women, who had been shut up for many years. Here, too, were the

middle aged, and the young man and the maiden of fourteen years old.

The soldiers immediately went to work to release the captives from

their chains, and took from their knapsacks their overcoats and

other clothing, which they gave to cover their nakedness. They were

exceedingly anxious to bring them out to the light of day; but Col.

L., aware of the danger, had food given them, and then brought them

gradually to the light, as they were able to bear it.

We then proceeded, said Col. L., to explore another room on the left.

Here we found the instruments of torture, of every kind which the

ingenuity of men or devils could invent. Col. L., here described four

of these horrid instruments. The first was a machine by which the victim

was confined, and then, beginning with the fingers, every joint in the

hands, arms and body, were broken or drawn one after another, until the

victim died. The second was a box, in which the head and neck of the

victim were so closely confined by a screw that he could not move in any

way. Over the box was a vessel, from which one drop of water a second,

fell upon the head of the victim;--every successive drop falling upon

precisely the same place on the head, suspended the circulation in a few

moments, and put the sufferer in the most excruciating agony. The third

was an infernal machine, laid horizontally, to which the victim was

bound; the machine then being placed between two beams, in which were

scores of knives so fixed that, by turning the machine with a crank, the

flesh of the sufferer was torn from his limbs, all in small pieces. The

fourth surpassed the others in fiendish ingenuity. Its exterior was

a beautiful woman, or large doll, richly dressed, with arms extended,

ready, to embrace its victim. Around her feet a semi-circle was drawn.

The victim who passed over this fatal mark, touched a spring which

caused the diabolical engine to open; its arms clasped him, and a

thousand knives cut him into as many pieces in the deadly embrace. Col.

L., said that the sight of these engines of infernal cruelty kindled the

rage of the soldiers to fury. They declared that every inquisitor and

soldier of the inquisition should be put to the torture. Their rage was

ungovernable. Col. L., did not oppose them. They might have turned their

arms against him if he had attempted to arrest their work. They began

with the holy fathers. The first they put to death in the machine for

breaking joints. The torture of the inquisitor put to death by the

dropping of water on his head was most excruciating. The poor man cried

out in agony to be taken from the fatal machine. The inquisitor general

was brought before the infernal engine called "The Virgin." He begged to

be excused. "No" said they, "you have caused others to kiss her, and

now you must do it." They interlocked their bayonets so as to form large

forks, and with these pushed him over the deadly circle. The beautiful

image instantly prepared for the embrace, clasped him in its arms,

and he was cut into innumerable pieces. Col. L. said, he witnessed the

torture of four of them--his heart sickened at the awful scene--and he

left the soldiers to wreak their vengeance on the last guilty inmate of

that prison-house of hell.

In the mean time it was reported through Madrid that the prisons of the

Inquisition were broken open, and multitudes hastened to the fatal spot.

And, Oh, what a meeting was there! It was like a resurrection! About a

hundred who had been buried for many years were now restored to life.

There were fathers who had found their long lost daughters; wives were

restored to their husbands, sisters to their brothers, parents to their

children; and there were some who could recognize no friend among the

multitude. The scene was such as no tongue can describe.

When the multitude had retired, Col. L. caused the library, paintings,

furniture, etc., to be removed, and having sent to the city for a wagon

load of powder, he deposited a large quantity in the vaults beneath

the building, and placed a slow match in connection with it. All had

withdrawn to a distance, and in a few moments there was a most joyful

sight to thousands. The walls and turrets of the massive structure rose

majestically towards the heavens, impelled by the tremendous explosion,

and fell back to the earth an immense heap of ruins. The Inquisition was

no more!

Such is the account given by Col. Lehmanowsky of the destruction of the

inquisition in Spain. Was it then finally destroyed, never again to be

revived? Listen to the testimony of the Rev. Giacinto Achilli, D. D.

Surely, his statements in this respect can be relied upon, for he is

himself a convert from Romanism, and was formerly the "Head Professor of

Theology, and Vicar of the Master of the Sacred Apostolic Palace."

He certainly had every opportunity to obtain correct information on the

subject, and in a book published by him in 1851, entitled "Dealings

with the Inquisition," we find, (page 71) the following startling

announcement. "We are now in the middle of the nineteenth century, and

still the Inquisition is actually and potentially in existence. This

disgrace to humanity, whose entire history is a mass of atrocious

crimes, committed by the priests of the Church of Rome, in the name of

God and of His Christ, whose vicar and representative, the pope, the

head of the Inquisition, declares himself to be,--this abominable

institution is still in existence in Rome and in the Roman States."

Again, (page 89) he says, "And this most infamous Inquisition, a hundred

times destroyed and as often renewed, still exists in Rome as in the

barbarous ages; the only difference being that the same iniquities are

at present practiced there with a little more secrecy and caution than

formerly, and this for the sake of prudence, that the Holy See may not

be subjected to the animadversions of the world at large."

On page 82 of the same work we find the following language. "I do not

propose to myself to speak of the Inquisition of times past, but of what

exists in Rome at the present moment; I shall therefore assert that the

laws of this institution being in no respect changed, neither can the

institution itself be said to have undergone any alteration. The present

race of priests who are now in power are too much afraid of the popular

indignation to let loose all their inquisitorial fury, which might even

occasion a revolt if they were not to restrain it; the whole world,

moreover, would cry out against them, a crusade would be raised against

the Inquisition, and, for a little temporary gratification, much power

would be endangered. This is the true reason why the severity of its

penalties is in some degree relaxed at the present time, but they still

remain unaltered in its code."

Again on page 102, he says, "Are the torments which are employed at the

present day at the Inquisition all a fiction? It requires the impudence

of an inquisitor, or of the Archbishop of Westminister to deny their

existence. I have myself heard these evil-minded persons lament and

complain that their victims were treated with too much lenity.

"What is it you desire?" I inquired of the inquisitor of Spoleto.

"That which St. Thomas Aquinas says," answered he; "DEATH TO ALL THE

HERETICS."

"Hand over, then, to one of these people, a person, however respectable;

give him up to one of the inquisitors, (he who quoted St. Thomas Aquinas

to me was made an Archbishop)--give up, I say, the present Archbishop of

Canterbury, an amiable and pious man, to one of these rabid inquisitors;

he must either deny his faith or be burned alive. Is my statement

false? Am I doting? Is not this the spirit that invariably actuates the

inquisitors? and not the inquisitors only, but all those who in any

way defile themselves with the inquisition, such as bishops and their

vicars, and all those who defend it, as the papists do. There is the

renowned Dr. Wiseman, the Archbishop of Westminster according to the

pope's creation, the same who has had the assurance to censure me from

his pulpit, and to publish an infamous article in the Dublin Review, in

which he has raked together, as on a dunghill, every species of filth

from the sons of Ignatius Loyola; and there is no lie or calumny that he

has not made use of against me. Well, then, suppose I were to be handed

over to the tender mercy of Dr. Wiseman, and he had the full power to

dispose of me as he chose, without fear of losing his character in

the eyes of the nation to which, by parentage more than by merit, he

belongs, what do you imagine he would do with me? Should I not have to

undergo some death more terrible than ordinary? Would not a council be

held with the reverend fathers of the company of Loyola, the same who

have suggested the abominable calumnies above alluded to, in order

to invent some refined method of putting me out of the world? I feel

persuaded that if I were condemned by the Inquisition to be burned

alive, my calumniator would have great pleasure in building my funeral

pile, and setting fire to it with his own hands; or should strangulation

be preferred, that he would, with equal readiness, arrange the cord

around my neck; and all for the honor and glory of the Inquisition, of

which, according to his oath, he is a true and faithful servant."

This, then, according to Dr. Achilli is the spirit of Romanism! Can we

doubt that it would lead to results as frightful as anything described

in the foregoing story?

But let us listen to his further remarks on the present state of the

Inquisition. On page 75 he says, "What, then, is the Inquisition of the

nineteenth century? The same system of intolerance which prevailed in

the barbarous ages. That which raised the Crusade and roused all Europe

to arms at the voice of a monk [Footnote: Bernard of Chiaravalle.] and

of a hermit, [Footnote: Peter the Hermit.] That which--in the name of

a God of peace, manifested on earth by Christ, who, through love

for sinners, gave himself to be crucified--brought slaughter on the

Albigenses and the Waldenses; filled France with desolation, under

Domenico di Guzman; raised in Spain the funeral pile and the scaffold,

devastating the fair kingdoms of Granada and Castile, through the

assistance of those detestable monks, Raimond de Pennefort, Peter

Arbues, and Cardinal Forquemorda. That, which, to its eternal infamy,

registers in the annals of France the fatal 24th of August, and the 5th

of November in those of England."

That same system which at this moment flourishes at Rome, which has

never yet been either worn out or modified, and which at this present

time, in the jargon of the priests, is called a "the holy, Roman,

universal, apostolic Inquisition. Holy, as the place where Christ was

crucified is holy; apostolic, because Judas Iscariot was the first

inquisitor; Roman and universal, because FROM ROME IT EXTENDS OVER ALL

THE WORLD. It is denied by some that the Inquisition which exists in

Rome as its centre, is extended throughout the world by means of the

missionaries. The Roman Inquisition and the Roman Propaganda are in

close connection with each other. Every bishop who is sent in partibus

infidelium, is an inquisitor charged to discover, through the means of

his missionaries, whatever is said or done by others in reference to

Rome, with the obligation to make his report secretly. The Apostolic

nuncios are all inquisitors, as are also the Apostolic vicars. Here,

then, we see the Roman Inquisition extending to the most remote

countries." Again this same writer informs us, (page 112,) that "the

principal object of the Inquisition is to possess themselves, by

every means in their power, of the secrets of every class of society.

Consequently its agents (Jesuits and Missionaries,) enter the domestic

circle, observe every motion, listen to every conversation, and would,

if possible, become acquainted with the most hidden thoughts. It is in

fact, the police, not only of Rome, but of all Italy; INDEED, IT MAY BE

SAID OF THE WHOLE WORLD."

The above statements of Dr. Achilli are fully corroborated by the Rev.

Wm. H. Rule, of London. In a book published by him in 1852, entitled

"The Brand of Dominic," we find the following remarks in relation to the

Inquisition of the present time. The Roman Inquisition is, therefore,

acknowledged to have an infinite multitude of affairs constantly on

hand, which necessitates its assemblage thrice every week. Still there

are criminals, and criminal processes. The body of officials are still

maintained on established revenues of the holy office. So far from any

mitigation of severity or judicial improvement in the spirit of its

administration, the criminal has now no choice of an advocate; but one

person, and he a servant of the Inquisition, performs an idle ceremony,

under the name of advocacy, for the conviction of all. And let the

reader mark, that as there are bishops in partibus, so, in like manner,

there are inquisitors of the same class appointed in every country, and

chiefly, in Great Britain and the colonies, who are sworn to secrecy,

and of course communicate intelligence to this sacred congregation of

all that can be conceived capable of comprehension within the infinitude

of its affairs. We must, therefore, either believe that the court

of Rome is not in earnest, and that this apparatus of universal

jurisdiction is but a shadow,--an assumption which is contrary to all

experience,--or we must understand that the spies and familiars of the

Inquisition are listening at our doors, and intruding themselves on our

hearths. How they proceed, and what their brethren at Rome are doing,

events may tell; BUT WE MAY BE SURE THEY ARE NOT IDLE.

They were not idle in Rome in 1825, when they rebuilt the prisons of

the Inquisition. They were not idle in 1842, when they imprisoned Dr.

Achilli for heresy, as he assures us; nor was the captain, or some other

of the subalterns, who, acting in their name, took his watch from him

as he came out. They were not idle in 1843, when they renewed the old

edicts against the Jews. And all the world knows that the inquisitors on

their stations throughout the pontifical states, and the inquisitorial

agents in Italy, Germany, and Eastern Europe, were never more active

than during the last four years, and even at this moment, when every

political misdemeanor that is deemed offensive to the Pope, is,

constructively, a sin against the Inquisition, and visited with

punishment accordingly. A deliberative body, holding formal session

thrice every week, cannot be idle, and although it may please them to

deny that Dr. Achilli saw and examined a black book, containing the

praxis now in use, the criminal code of inquisitors in force at this

day,--as Archibald Bower had an abstract of such a book given him for

his use about one hundred and thirty years ago,--they cannot convince

me that I have not seen and handled, and used in the preparation of this

volume, the compendium of an unpublished Roman code of inquisitorial

regulations, given to the vicars of the inquisitor-general of Modena.

They may be pleased to say that the mordacchia, or gag, of which Dr.

Achilli speaks, as mentioned in that BLACK BOOK, is no longer used;

but that it is mentioned there, and might be used again is more than

credible to myself, after having seen that the "sacred congregation" has

fixed a rate of fees for the ordering, witnessing, and administration of

TORTURE. There was indeed, a talk of abolishing torture at Rome; but

we have reason to believe that the congregation will not drop the

mordacchia, inasmuch, as, instead of notifying any such reformation to

the courts of Europe, this congregation has kept silence. For although a

continuation of the bullary has just been published at Rome, containing

several decrees of this congregation, there is not one that announces

a fulfilment of this illusory promise,--a promise imagined by a

correspondent to French newspapers, but never given by the inquisitors

themselves. And as there is no proof that they have yet abstained from

torture, there is a large amount of circumstantial evidence that they

have delighted themselves in death. And why not? When public burnings

became inexpedient--as at Goa--did they not make provision for private

executions?

For a third time at least the Roman prisons--I am not speaking of those

of the provinces--were broken open, in 1849, after the desertion of Pius

IX., and two prisoners were found there, an aged bishop and a nun.

Many persons in Rome reported the event; but instead of copying what is

already before the public, I translate a letter addressed to me by P.

Alessandro Gavazzi, late chaplain-general of the Roman army, in reply

to a few questions which I had put to him. All who have heard his

statements may judge whether his account of facts be not marked with

every note of accuracy. They will believe that his power of oratory DOES

NOT betray him into random declamation. Under date of March 20th, 1852,

he writes thus:

"MY DEAR SIR,--In answering your questions concerning the palace of

Inquisition at Rome, I should say that I can give only a few superficial

and imperfect notes. So short was the time that it remained open to the

public, So great the crowd of persons that pressed to catch a sight of

it, and so intense the horror inspired by that accursed place, that I

could not obtain a more exact and particular impression.

"I found no instruments of torture, [Footnote: "The gag, the

thumb-screw, and many other instruments of severe torture could be

easily destroyed and others as easily procured. The non-appearance of

instruments is not enough to sustain the current belief that the use of

them is discontinued. So long as there is a secret prison, and while

all the existing standards of inquisitorial practice make torture

an ordinary expedient for extorting information, not even a bull,

prohibiting torture, would be sufficient to convince the world that

it has been discontinued. The practice of falsehood is enjoined on

inquisitors. How, then, could we believe a bull, or decree, if it were

put forth to-morrow, to release them from suspicion, or to screen them

from obloquy? It would not be entitled to belief."--Rev. Wm. H. Rule.]

for they were destroyed at the time of the first French invasion,

and because such instruments were not used afterwards by the modern

Inquisition. I did, however, find, in one of the prisons of the second

court, a furnace, and the remains of a woman's dress. I shall never be

able to believe that that furnace was placed there for the use of the

living, it not being in such a place, or of such a kind, as to be of

service to them. Everything, on the contrary, combines to persuade me

that it was made use of for horrible deaths, and to consume the remains

of the victims of inquisitorial executions. Another object of horror I

found between the great hall of judgment and the luxurious apartment of

the chief jailer (primo custode), the Dominican friar who presides over

this diabolical establishment. This was a deep trap or shaft opening

into the vaults under the Inquisition. As soon as the so-called criminal

had confessed his offence; the second keeper, who is always a Dominican

friar, sent him to the father commissary to receive a relaxation

[Footnote: "In Spain, RELAXATION is delivery to death. In the

established style of the Inquisition it has the same meaning. But in the

common language of Rome it means RELEASE. In the lips of the inquisitor,

therefore, if he used the word, it has one meaning, and another to the

ear of the prisoner."--Rev. Wm. H. Rule.] of his punishment. With the

hope of pardon, the confessed culprit would go towards the apartment of

the holy inquisitor; but in the act of setting foot at its entrance,

the trap opened, and the world of the living heard no more of him. I

examined some of the earth found in the pit below this trap; it was a

compost of common earth, rottenness, ashes, and human hair, fetid to the

smell, and horrible to the sight and to the thought of the beholder.

"But where popular fury reached its highest pitch was in the vaults of

St. Pius V. I am anxious that you should note well that this pope was

canonized by the Roman church especially for his zeal against heretics.

I will now describe to you the manner how, and the place where, those

vicars of Jesus Christ handled the living members of Jesus Christ, and

show you how they proceeded for their healing. You descend into the

vaults by very narrow stairs. A narrow corridor leads you to the

several cells, which, for smallness and stench, are a hundred times more

horrible than the dens of lions and tigers in the Colosseum. Wandering

in this labyrinth of most fearful prisons, that may be called 'graves

for the living,' I came to a cell full of skeletons without skulls,

buried in lime, and the skulls, detached from the bodies, had been

collected in a hamper by the first visitors. Whose were those skeletons?

and why were they buried in that place and in that manner? I have heard

some popish priests trying to defend the Inquisition from the charge of

having condemned its victims to a secret death, say that the palace of

the Inquisition was built on a burial-ground, belonging anciently to a

hospital for pilgrims, and that the skeletons found were none other

than those of pilgrims who had died in that hospital. But everything

contradicts this papistical defence. Suppose that there had been a

cemetery there, it could not have had subterranean galleries and

cells, laid out with so great regularity; and even if there had been

such--against all probability--the remains of bodies would have been

removed on laying the foundation of the palace, to leave the space free

for the subterranean part of the Inquisition. Besides, it is contrary to

the use of common tombs to bury the dead by carrying them through a door

at the side; for the mouth of the sepulchre is always at the top. And

again, it has never been the custom in Italy to bury the dead singly in

quick lime; but, in time of plague, the dead bodies have been usually

laid in a grave until it was sufficiently full, and then quick lime has

been laid over them, to prevent pestilential exhalations, by hastening

the decomposition of the infected corpses. This custom was continued,

some years ago, in the cemeteries of Naples, and especially in the daily

burial of the poor. Therefore, the skeletons found in the Inquisition

of Rome could not belong to persons who had died a natural death in

a hospital; nor could any one, under such a supposition, explain the

mystery of all the bodies being buried in lime except the head. It

remains, then, beyond a doubt, that that subterranean vault contained

the victims of one of the many secret martyrdoms of the butcherly

tribunal. The following is the most probable opinion, if it be not

rather the history of a fact:

"The condemned were immersed in a bath of slaked lime, gradually filled

up to their necks. The lime by little and little enclosed the sufferers,

or walled them up alive. The torment was extreme but slow. As the lime

rose higher and higher, the respiration became more and more painful,

because more difficult. So that what with the suffocation of the smoke,

and the anguish of the compressed breathing, they died in a manner most

horrible and desperate. Some time after their death the heads would

naturally separate from the bodies, and roll away into the hollows made

by the shrinking of the lime. Any other explanation of the feet that may

be attempted will be found improbable and unnatural. You may make what

use you please of these notes of mine, since I can warrant their

truth. I wish that writers, speaking of this infamous tribunal of the

Inquisition, would derive their information from pure history, unmingled

with romance; for so great and so many the historical atrocities of the

Inquisition, that they would more than suffice to arouse the detestation

of a thousand worlds. I know that the popish impostor-priests go about

saying that the Inquisition was never an ecclesiastical tribunal, but

a laic. But you will have shown the contrary in your work, and may also

add, in order quite to unmask these lying preachers, that the palace

of the Inquisition at Rome is under the shadow of the palace of the

Vatican; that the keepers are to this day, Dominican friars; and that

the prefect of the Inquisition at Rome is the Pope in person.

"I have the honor to be your affectionate Servant,

"ALESSANDRA GAVAZZI."

"The Roman parliament decreed the erection of a pillar opposite the

palace of the Inquisition, to perpetuate the memory of the destruction

of that nest of abominations; but before that or any other monument

could be raised, the French army besieged and took the city, restored

the Pope, and with him the tribunal of the faith. Not only was Dr.

Achilli thrown into one of its old prisons, on the 29th of July 1849,

but the violence of the people having made the building less adequate

to the purpose of safe keeping, he was transferred to the castle of

St. Angelo, which had often been employed for the custody of similar

delinquents, and there he lay in close confinement until the 9th of

January, 1850, when the French authorities, yielding to influential

representations from this country assisted him to escape in disguise as

a soldier, thus removing an occasion of scandal, but carefully leaving

the authority of the congregation of cardinals undisputed. Indeed

they first obtained the verbal sanction of the commissary, who saw it

expedient to let his victim go, and hush an outcry.

"Yet some have the hardihood to affirm that there is no longer any

Inquisition; and as the Inquisitors were instructed to suppress the

truth, to deny their knowledge of cases actually passing through their

hands, and to fabricate falsehoods for the sake of preserving the

SECRET, because the secret was absolutely necessary to the preservation

of their office, so do the Inquisitors in partibus falsify and illude

without the least scruple of conscience, in order to put the people of

this country off their guard.

"That the Inquisition really exists, is placed beyond a doubt by its

daily action as a visible institution at Rome. But if any one should

fancy that it was abolished after the release of Dr. Achilli, let him

hear a sentence contradictory, from a bull of the Pope himself, Pius IX,

a document that was dated at Rome, August 22, 1851, where the pontiff,

condemning the works of Professor Nuytz, of Turin, says, "after having

taken the advice of the doctors in theology and canon law, AFTER HAVING

COLLECTED THE SUFFRAGES OF OUR VENERABLE BROTHERS THE CARDINALS OF THE

CONGREGATION OF THE SUPREME AND UNIVERSAL INQUISITION." And so recently

as March, 1852, by letters of the Secretariate of State, he appointed

four cardinals to be "members of the Sacred Congregation of the Holy

Roman and Universal Inquisition;" giving incontrovertible evidence that

provision is made for attending to communications of Inquisitors in

partibus from all parts of the world. As the old cardinals die off,

their vacant seats are filled by others. The 'immortal legion' is

punctually recruited.

"After all, have we in Great Britain, Ireland and the colonies, and our

brethren of the foreign mission stations, any reason to apprehend harm

to, ourselves from the Inquisition as it is? In reply to this question,

let it be observed;

"1. That there are Inquisitors in partibus is not to be denied. That

letters of these Inquisitors are laid before the Roman Inquisition is

equally certain. Even in the time of Leo XII, when the church of

Rome was far less active in the British empire than it is now, some

particular case was always decided on Thursday, when the Pope, in his

character of universal Inquisitor, presided in the congregation. It

cannot be thought that now, in the height of its exultation, daring and

aggression, this congregation has fewer emissaries, or that they are

less active, or less communicative than they were at that time. We

also see that the number is constantly replenished. The cardinals Della

Genga-Sermattei; De Azevedo; Fornari; and Lucciardi have just been added

to it.

"2. Besides a cardinal in England, and a delegate in Ireland, there is

both in England and Ireland, a body of bishops, 'natural Inquisitors,'

as they are always acknowledged, and have often claimed to be; and these

natural Inquisitors are all sworn to keep the secret--the soul of the

Inquisition. Since, then, there are Inquisitors in partibus, appointed

to supply the lack of an avowed and stationary Inquisition, and since

the bishops are the very persons whom the court of Rome can best

command, as pledged for such a service, it is reasonable to suppose they

act in that capacity.

"3. Some of the proceedings of these bishops confirm the assurance that

there is now an Inquisition in activity in England. * * * The vigilance

exercised over families, also the intermeddling of priests with

education, both in families and schools, and with the innumerable

relations of civil society, can only be traced back to the Inquisitors

in partibus, whose peculiar duty, whether by help of confessors or

familiars, is to worm out every secret of affairs, private or public,

and to organize and conduct measures of repression or of punishment.

Where the secular arm cannot be borrowed, and where offenders lie beyond

the reach of excommunication, irregular methods must be resorted to,

not rejecting any as too crafty or too violent. Discontented mobs, or

individual zealots are to be found or bought. What part the Inquisitors

in partibus play in Irish assassinations, or in the general mass of

murderous assaults that is perpetrated in the lower haunts of crime,

it is impossible to say. Under cover of confessional and Inquisitorial

secrets, spreads a broad field of action--a region of mystery--only

visible to the eye of God, and to those 'most reverend and most eminent'

guardians of the papacy, who sit thrice every week, in the Minerva

and Vatican, and there manage the hidden springs of Inquisition on the

heretics, schismatics, and rebels, no less than on 'the faithful'

of realms. Who can calculate the extent of their power over those

'religious houses,' where so many of the inmates are but neophytes,

unfitted by British education for the intellectual and moral abnegation,

the surrender of mind and conscience, which monastic discipline

exacts? Yet they must be coerced into submission, and kept under penal

discipline. Who can tell how many of their own clergy are withdrawn

to Rome, and there delated, imprisoned, and left to perish, if not

'relaxed' to death, in punishment of heretical opinions or liberal

practices? We have heard of laymen, too, taken to Rome by force, or

decoyed thither under false pretences there to be punished by the

universal Inquisition; and whatever of incredibility may appear in some

tales of Inquisitorial abduction, the general fact that such abductions

have taken place, seems to be incontrovertible. And now that the

Inquisitors in partibus are distributed over Christendom, and that they

provide the Roman Inquisition with daily work from year's end to year's

end, is among the things most certain,--even the most careless of

Englishmen must acknowledge that we have all reason to apprehend much

evil from the Inquisition as it is. And no Christian can be aware of

this fact, without feeling himself more than ever bound to uphold

the cause of christianity, both at home and abroad, as the only

counteractive of so dire a curse, and the only remedy of so vast an

evil." Rev. Wm. Rule, London.

The Rev. E. A. Lawrence, writing of "Romanism at Rome," gives us the

following vivid description of the present state of the Roman Church.

"Next is seen at Rome the PROPAGANDA, the great missionary heart of the

whole masterly system. Noiselessly, by the multiform orders of monks and

nuns, as through so many veins and arteries, it sends out and receives

back its vital fluid. In its halls, the whole world is distinctly

mapped out, and the chief points of influence minutely marked. A kind of

telegraphic communication is established with the remotest stations in

South Africa and Siberia, and with almost every nook in our own land,

to which the myrmidons of Papal power look with the most of fear. It

is through means of this moral galvanic battery, set up in the Vatican,

that the Church of Rome has gained its power of UBIQUITY--has so well

nigh made itself OMNIPOTENT, as well as omnipresent.

"It is no mean or puny antagonist that strides across the path of a

free, spiritual and advancing Protestantism. And yet, with a simple

shepherd's sling, and the smooth stones gathered from Siloa's brook, God

will give it the victory.

"Once more let us look, and we shall find at Rome, still working in its

dark, malignant efficiency, the INQUISITION. Men are still made to pass

through fires of this Moloch. This is the grand defensive expedient of

the Papacy, and is the chief tribunal of the States. Its processes are

all as secret as the grave. Its cells are full of dead men's bones. They

call it the Asylum for the poor--a retreat for doubting and distressed

pilgrims, where they may have experience of the parental kindness of

their father the Pope, and their mother the church.

"Dr. Achilli had a trial of this beneficient discipline, when thrown

into the deep dungeon of St. Angelo. And how many other poor victims of

this diabolical institution are at this moment pining in agony, heaven

knows.

"In America, we talk about Rome as having ceased to persecute. IT IS A

MISTAKE. She holds to the principle as tenaciously as ever. She cannot

dispense with it. Of the evil spirit of Protestantism she says, "This

kind goeth not out, but by fire." Her reign, is a reign of terror.

Hence she must hold both the principle and the power of persecution, of

compelling men to believe, or, if they doubt, of putting them to death

for their own good. Take from her this power and she bites the dust."

ROMANISM IN AMERICA.

It may perchance be said that the remarks of the Rev. William Rule,

quoted above, refer exclusively to the existing state of things is

England, Ireland, and the colonies. But who will dare to say, after a

careful investigation of the subject, that they do not apply with equal

force to these United States?

Has America nothing to fear from the inquisitors--from the Jesuits? Is

it true that the "Inquisition still exists in Rome--that its code is

unchanged--that its emissaries are sent over all the world--that every

nuncio and bishop is an Inquisitor," and is it improbable that, even

now, torture rooms like those described in the foregoing story, may be

found in Roman Catholic establishments in this country? Yes, even here,

in Protestant, enlightened America! Have WE then nothing to fear from

Romanism? But a few days since a gentleman of learning and intelligence

when speaking of this subject, exclaimed, "What have we to do with the

Jesuits? and what is the Inquisition to us? The idea that we have aught

to fear from Romanism, is simply ridiculous!" In reply to this, allow

me to quote the language of the Rev. Manuel J. Gonsalves, leader of the

Madeira Exiles.

"The time will come when the American people will arise as one man, and

not only abolish the confessional, but will follow the example of many

of the European nations, who had no peace, or rest, till they banished

the Jesuits. These are the men, who bask in the sunbeams of popery, to

whom the pope has entrusted the vast interests of the king of Rome, in

this great Republic. Nine tenths of the Romish priests, now working hard

for their Master the pope, in this country, are full blooded Jesuits.

The man of sin who is the head of the mystery of iniquity--through

the advice of the popish bishops now in this country, has selected

the Jesuitical order of priests, to carry on his great and gigantic

operations in the United States of America. Those Jesuits who

distinguish themselves the most in the destruction of Protestant Bible

religion, and who gain the largest number of protestant scholars for

popish schools and seminaries; who win most American converts to their

sect are offered great rewards in the shape of high offices in the

church. John Hughes, the Jesuit Bishop of the New York Romanists, was

rewarded by Pope Pius 9th, with an Archbishop's mitre, for his great,

zeal and success, in removing God's Holy Bible from thirty-eight public

schools in New York, and for procuring a papal school committee, to

examine every book in the hands of American children in the public

schools, that every passage of truth, in those books of history

unpalatable to the pope might be blotted out." Has America then nothing

to do with Romanism?

But another gentleman exclaims, "What if Romanism be on the increase in

the United States! Is not their religion as dear to them, as ours is

to us?" To this the Rev. M. J. Gonsalves would reply as follows. "The

American people have been deceived, in believing THAT POPERY WAS A

RELIGION, not a very good one to be sure, but some kind of one. This has

been their great mistake. We might as well call the Archbishop of the

fallen angels, and his crew, a religious body of intelligent beings,

because they believe in an Almighty God, and tremble, as to call the man

of sin and his Jesuits, a body of religious saints. The tree is known

by its fruit, such as 'love, joy, peace, long suffering, gentleness,

goodness, meekness, faith, temperance, brotherly kindness;' and where

the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty, Christian liberty, giving

to God and man their due unasked. Now we ask, what kind of fruit does

the tree of Popery bear, in any country, that it should claim homage,

and respect, as a good religion?"

Such is the language of one who knew so well what popery was, that he

fled from it as from a hell upon earth.

In his further remarks upon the horrors of convent life in the United

States, he fully confirms the statements in the foregoing narrative. He

says, "It is time that American gentlemen, who are so much occupied

in business, should think of the dangers of the confessional, and the

miseries endured by innocent, duped, American, imprisoned females in

this free country; and remember that these American ladies who have been

duped and enticed by Jesuitical intrigue and craft, into their female

convents, have no means of deliverance; they cannot write a letter to a

friend without the consent and inspection of the Mother Abbess, who

is always and invariably a female tyrant, a creature in the pay of the

Bishop, and dependent upon the Bishop for her despotic office of power.

The poor, unfortunate, imprisoned American female has no means of

redress in her power. She cannot communicate her story of wrong and

suffering to any living being beyond the walls of her prison. She may

have a father, a mother, a dear brother, or a sister, who, if they knew

one-sixteenth part of her wrongs and sufferings, would fly at once to

see her and sympathize with her in her anguish. But the Jesuit confessor

attached to the prison is ever on the alert. Those ladies who appear the

most unhappy, and unreconciled to their prison, are compelled to attend

the confessional every day; and thus the artful Jesuit, by a thousand

cross questions, is made to understand perfectly the state of their

minds. The Lady Porter, or door-keeper and jailor, is always a creature

of the priest's, and a great favorite with the Mother Abbess. Should any

friends call to see an unhappy nun who is utterly unreconciled to her

fate, the Lady Porter is instructed to inform those relatives that the

dear nun they want to see so much, is so perfectly happy, and given up

to heavenly meditations, that she cannot be persuaded to see an earthly

relative. At the same time the Mother Abbess dismisses the relatives

with a very sorrowful countenance, and regrets very much, in appearance,

their disappointment. But the unhappy nun is never informed that her

friends or relatives have called to inquire after her welfare. How

amazing, that government should allow such prisons in the name of

religion!"

CONVENT OF THE CAPUCHINS IN SANTIAGO

In a late number of "The American and Foreign Christian Union," we find

the following account of conventual life from a report of a Missionary

in Chile, South America.

"Now, my brother, let me give you an account related to me by a most

worthy English family, most of the members of which have grown up in the

country, confirmed also by common report, of the Convent of Capuchins,

in Santiago.

"The number of inmates is limited to thirty-two young ladies. The

admittance fee is $2000. When the nun enters she is dressed like a

bride, in the most costly material that wealth can command. There,

beside the altar of consecration, she devotes herself in the most

solemn, manner to a life of celibacy and mortification of the flesh

and spirit, with the deluded hope that her works will merit a brighter

mansion in the realms above.

"The forms of consecration being completed, she begins to cast off

her rich veil, costly vestments, all her splendid diamonds and

brilliants--which, in many instances, have cost, perhaps, from ten to

fifteen, or even twenty thousand dollars. Then her beautiful locks are

submitted to the tonsure; and to signify her deadness forever to the

world, she is clothed in a dress of coarse grey cloth, called serge, in

which she is to pass the miserable remnant of her days. The dark sombre

walls of her prison she can sever pass, and its iron-bound doors are

shut forever upon their new, youthful, and sensitive occupant. Rarely,

if ever, is she permitted to speak, and NEVER, NEVER, to see her friends

or The loved ones of home--to enjoy the embraces of a fond mother, or

devoted father, or the smiles of fraternal or sisterly affection. If

ever allowed to speak at all, it is through iron bars where she cannot

be seen, and in the presence of the abbess, to see that no complaint

escapes her lips. However much her bosom may swell with anxiety at the

sound of voices which were once music to her soul, and she may long to

pour out her cries and tears to those who once soothed every sorrow of

her heart; yet not a murmur must be uttered. The soul must suffer

its own sorrows solitary and alone, with none to sympathize, or grant

relief, and none to listen to its moans but the cold gloomy walls of her

tomb. No, no, not even the Gospel of Jesus Christ, that great alleviator

of all the sorrows of the heart, is allowed an entrance there.

"Nor is this all. Besides being condemned to a meagre, insufficient

and unwholesome diet which they themselves must cook, the nuns are

not allowed to speak much with each other, except to say, 'Que morir

tenemos, 'we are to die,' or 'we must die,' and to reply, 'Ya los

sabemos,' 'we know it,' or 'already we know it'

"They pass most of their time in small lonely cells, where they sleep in

a narrow place dug out in the ground, in the shape of a coffin, without

bed of any kind, except a piece of coarse serge spread down; and their

daily dress is their only covering. SLEEP! Did I say? Alas! 'Tired

nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep, no more with his downy pinions

lights on his unsullied with a tear:' FOR EVERY HOUR OF THE TWENTY-FOUR

they are aroused by the bell to perform their 'Ave Maria's,' count their

rosaries, and such other blind devotions as may be imposed. Thus they

drag out a miserable existence, and when death calls the spirit to its

last account, the other nuns dig the grave with their own hands, within

the walls of the convent, and so perform the obsequies of their departed

sister.

"Thus, I have briefly given you not fiction! but a faithful narrative

of facts in regard to conventual life, and an establishment marked by

almost every form of sin, and yet making pretence of 'perfecting the

saints,' by the free and gentle influences of the gospel of Christ.

"Query 1st. What is done with all the money?

"2d. What is done with the rich vestments and jewels?

"3d. Where do the priests get all their brilliants to perform high mass

and adorn their processions?

"4th. Where does all the hair of the saints come from, which is sold in

lockets for high prices as sure preventives of evil?

"5th. Whose grave has been plundered to obtain RELICS to sell to the

ignorant.

"6th. Where does the Romish Church obtain her SURPLUS RIGHTEOUSNESS TO

SELL TO THE needy, and not give it like our blessed Lord, 'without money

and without price?'

"7th. Who is responsible for the FANATICISM that induces a young female

to incarcerate herself?

"8th. Where is the authority in reason, in revelation, for such a life?

"9th. What is the average length of life?

"10th. How many die insane?

"A young lady lately cast herself from the tower, and was dashed in

pieces, being led to do it, doubtless, in desperation. The convents of

this city, of the same order, require the same entrance fee, $2000. Of

course, none but the comparatively rich can avail themselves of this

perfection of godliness.

"Who will say that this mode of life has not been invented in order to

cut short life as rapidly as possible, that the $2000, with all the rich

diamonds upon initiation, may be repeated as frequently as possible?

"O! how true it is, that Romanism is the same merciless, cruel,

diabolical organisation, wherever it can fully develop itself, in

all lands. How truly is it denominated by the pen of inspiration the

'MYSTERY OF INIQUITY,' especially that part of it relating to these

secret institutions, and the whole order of the Jesuits."

The editor of the "Christian Union", in his remarks on the above, says,

"Already the fair face of our country is disfigured by the existence

here and there of conventual establishments. At present they do not

show the hideous features which they, at least in some cases, assume in

countries where papal influence and authority are supreme. The genius of

our government and institutions necessarily exerts a restraining power,

which holds them from excesses to which, otherwise, they might run. But

they constitute a part of a system which is strongly at variance with

the interests of humanity, and merely wait the occurrence of favorable

circumstances to visit upon our land all the horrors which they have

inflicted elsewhere.

"How many conventual establishments there are now in the nation, few

Protestants, it is believed, know. And how many young females, guilty of

no crime against society, and condemned by no law of the land, are shut

up in their walls and doomed to a life which they did not anticipate

when entering them, a life which is more dreadful to them than death,

very few of the millions of our citizens conceive. The majority of our

people have slept over the whole subject, and the indifference thus

manifested has emboldened the priests to posh forward the extension

of the system, and the workmen are now busy in various places in

the construction of additional establishments. But such facts as are

revealed in this article, from the pen of our missionary, in connection

with things that are occurring around us, show that no time should be

lost in examining this whole subject of convents and monasteries, and in

legislating rightly about them."

Again, when speaking of papal convents in the United States, the same

talented writer observes, "The time has fully come when Protestants

should lay aside their apathy and too long-cherished indifference in

respect to the movements of Rome in this land. It is time for them to

call to mind the testimony of their fathers, their bitter experiences

from the papal See, and to take effective measures to protect the

inheritance bequeathed to them, that they may hand it down to their

children free from corruption, as pure and as valuable as when they

received it. They should remember that Rome claims never to change, that

what she was in Europe when in the zenith of her power, she will be here

when fairly installed, and has ability to enforce her commands.

"Her numbers now on our soil, her nearly two thousand priests moving

about everywhere, her colleges and printing-presses, her schools and

convents, and enormous amounts of property held by her bishops, have

served as an occasion to draw out something of her spirit, and to show

that she is ARROGANT AND ABUSIVE TO THE EXTENT OF HER POWER.

"Scarcely a newspaper issues from her press, but is loaded with abuse of

Protestants and of their religion, and at every available point assaults

are made upon their institutions and laws; and Rome and her institutions

and interests are crowded into notice, and special privileges are loudly

clamored for.

"All Protestants, therefore, of every name, and of every religious and

political creed, we repeat it, who do not desire to ignore the past, and

to renounce all care or concern for the future, as to their children and

children's children, should lose no time in informing themselves of

the state of things around them in regard to the papacy and its

institutions. They should without delay devote their efforts and

influence to the protection of the country against those Popish

establishments and their usages which have been set up among us without

the authority of law, and under whose crushing weight some of the

nations of Europe have staggered and reeled for centuries, and have now

but little of their former power and glory remaining, and under which

Mexico, just upon our borders, has sunk manifestly beyond the power of

recovery.

"Let each individual seek to awaken an interest in this matter in

the mind of his neighbor. And if there be papal establishments in

the neighborhood under the names of 'schools,' 'retreats', 'religions

communities,' or any other designation, which are at variance with, or

are not conformed to, the laws of the commonwealth in which they are

situated, let memorials be prepared and signed by the citizens, and

forwarded immediately to the legislature, praying that they may be

subjected to examination, and required to conform to the laws by which

all Protestant institutions of a public nature are governed.

"Let us exclude from our national territory all irresponsible

institutions. Let us seek to maintain a government of law, and insist

upon the equality of all classes before it."

In closing these extracts, we beg leave to express ourselves in the

words of the Rev. Dr. Sunderland, of Washington city, in a sermon

delivered before the American and Foreign Christian Union, at its

anniversary in May, 1856.

"But new it is asked, 'Why all this tirade against Roman Catholics?' We

repel the implication. It is not against the unhappy millions that are

ground down under the iron heel of that enormous despotism. They are of

the common humanity, our brethren and kinsmen, according to the flesh.

They need the same light instruction and salvation that we need. Like

ourselves they need the one God, the one mediator between God and man,

the man Christ Jesus; and from the heart we love and pity them. We would

grant them all the privileges which we claim to ourselves. We can have

no animosity towards them as men and candidates with ourselves for the

coming judgment. But it is the system under which they are born, and

live, and die, I repeat, which we denounce, and when we shall cease to

oppose it, then let our right hand forget her cunning, and our tongue

cleave to the roof of our mouth. What is it but a dark and terrible

power on earth before which so many horrible memories start up? Why,

sir, look at it! We drag the bones of the grim behemoth out to view, for

we would not have the world forget his ugliness nor the terror he has

inspired. 'A tirade against Romanism,' is it? O sir, we remember

the persecutions of Justinian; we remember the days of the Spanish

Inquisition; we remember the reign of 'the Bloody Mary;' we remember

the revocation of the Edict of Nantes; we remember St. Bartholomew;

we remember the murdered Covenanters, Huguenots, and Piedmontese; we

remember the noble martyrs dying for the testimony of the faith along

the ancient Rhine; we remember the later wrath which pursued the

islanders of Madeira, till some of them sought refuge upon these

shores; we remember the Madiai, and we know how the beast ever seeks to

propagate his power, by force where he can, by deception where he must.

And when we remember these things, we must protest against the further

vigor and prosperity of this grand Babylon of all. Take it, then, tirade

and all, for so ye must, ye ministers of Rome, sodden with the fumes of

that great deep of abominations! The voice of the Protestant shall never

be hushed; the spirit of Reformation shall never sleep. O, lands of

Farel and of Calvin, of Zwingle and of Luther! O countries where the

trumpet first sounded, marshalling the people to this fearful contest!

We have heard the blast rolling still louder down the path of three

hundred years, and in our solid muster-march we come, the children

of the tenth generation. We come a growing phalanx, not with carnal

weapons, but with the armor of the gospel, and wielding the sword of

truth on the right hand and on the left, we say that ANTICHRIST MUST

FALL. Hear it, ye witnesses, and mark the word; by the majesty of the

coming kingdom of Jesus, and by the eternal purpose of Jehovah, THIS

ANTICHRIST MUST FALL."

END