should have kept by it. In dealing with a Protestant government, they had no right to assume, or take for granted, that their principles were the very same that the apostles taught; yet this is what is done by them, and some of the other universities, who seem to think they have given a sufficient answer to the questions, when they cite passages from scripture, which require the maintaining of good faith, and obedience to rulers and magistrates. If their principles and practices were founded upon the word of God, and regulated by it, we should have no dispute with them. It is because the church of Rome was known to have professed and acted upon very different principles, that the universities were called upon to give an account of what they really held. These bodies were, doubtless, competent to declare what was their own faith and practice; but when they take upon them to declare for the whole church, what never has been, we do them no injustice when we bring them to the test of history, to the writings of doctors, and the canons of councils, which are as accessible to us as to them; and had Mr. PITT gone to these sources of information, instead of trusting to the representations of men, who were interested in making their religion appear to advantage in the eyes of the British government, he should not have been so liable to be deceived.

But to return to the Alcalian doctors,-they do not content themselves with giving a simple answer in the negative, like some of their brethren, but condescended to argue the point; and they endeavour to make it appear, that the people of England are under the influence of the devil, and the father of lies, as the Pharisees were of old, because they believe that Papists hold the doctrine, that it is lawful to break faith with heretics. They do not, however, condescend to prove any thing that they assert, with regard to historical facts. They refer to no authority either popish or Protestant. All must be taken on the credit of their own bare assertion; and I have learned enough of Papists, to credit not what they assert, but what they prove.

OATS, it seems, had said, that "a canon was framed in the sixth general council, by which Catholics are freed from any obligation to keep faith with heretics." The doctors reply, that this canon is not of the sixth general council,-that it is of no authority, and that it has been condemned by the church. This is pretty plainly admitting that something of the kind had been publicly taught, if not decreed, by some council, though not the sixth; and to say merely, it has been condemned by the church, is extremely vague. It is certain, the principle was maintained and practised by the council of Constance. Let the doctors of Alcala, or somebody for them in Britain, say when, and and by what competent authority, it was condemned. Though an infallible and unchangeable church has no right to such a concession, let it be proved, that the doctrine maintained at Constance, has since been condemned by equal authority, and I shall give up the point. I shall then do the church of Rome more honour than any Papist will do. I will say she is better than she was.

The assertions of these grave doctors, with regard to the council of Constance and John Huss, are so clumsily put together, and so easily seen through, that I have the charity to think the authors had not been accustomed to deal in falsehood. It is said to be an honourable thing to be awkward at making a lie; and this honour I cheerfully yield to

the faculty of Alcala. At Constance, they say, nothing was defined concerning breach of faith; and "if we were to determine the question from the acts of that synod, we should be forced to draw a contrary conclusion." The acts of that synod were to condemn Huss as a heretic, to move the emperor to break faith with him, and to burn him to death, notwithstanding they knew that he had promised him protection. The fathers declared that they were at liberty to examine the doctrines of Huss, because they had not given him a safe conduct, though the emperor had. Most certainly they had a right to examine his doctrines; but what right had they to burn his person, when he came before them, trusting in a solemn promise, that no ill should befall him? The doctors admit that the emperor had granted him a safe conduct; that is, had promised him protection; and yet he ordered him to be burnt to death without any breach of faith! Surely this is the language of the beast that is not, and yet is.

It is pretended that the emperor's safe conduct was only against "lawless violence." But from whom was this dreaded? Not surely from the grave fathers of the council. If it was from robbers by the way, a guard of soldiers would have been more likely to serve the purpose, than a slip of paper, or even parchment. It is absurd to speak of protection against lawless violence, in any other way than by force; for men in a lawless state would pay no regard to the signature of the emperor, or any body else in lawful authority. In short, it was not danger from banditti that Huss and his friends were thinking of; it was danger from the council, not lawless, but under form of law; and it was for security against this that they got the solemn promise of the emperor, who pledged himself for the safety of Huss to Constance, while there, and back to his home. "Aller s'arreter, demuerer, et retourner," says L'Enfant. And Dupin, a popish historian, asserts, that Huss had liberty promised, not only in going to the council, but also in returning from it, which must imply safety while there." Venir librement, et d'en revenir," are his words.

It is added, by the doctors of Alcala, that there was a condition annexed, that if he fled, he should forfeit his life; and that he fled, in violation of his engagement. There is, however, no such condition in the document itself; and I take the whole allegation to be a fabrication of the learned fathers, or of their fathers before them.

With regard to Jerome of Prague, it is admitted that he had a safe conduct from the council itself; and he also was burnt to death. He did not, at first, possess the firmness of Huss. He was induced to make a recantation; but he did not long continue in this state of defection. Confessing his sin, in denying the truth, and making an open profession of those doctrines which were afterwards the basis of the reformation, he was, as a thing of course, ordered to the flames, which he endured with great fortitude. The doctors accuse him of holding some monstrous opinions, and they seem to think this was a sufficient reason why he should not be suffered to live; but if he did hold all the opinions which they ascribe to him, he was more fit for bedlam than the stake. Here, however, we have the authority of the renowned university of Alcala for burning persons to death for mere opinions; and while they hold this doctrine, it is not worth their while to disavow the kindred one, that it is lawful to break faith with heretics.

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE SUBJECT CONTINUED.

PRACTICE OF THE INQUISITION.

CASE OF A FAMILY AT SEVILLE. THE DOCTRINE INTIMATELY ALLIED TO THAT WHICH AUTHORIZES THE DESTRUCTION OF HERETICS. SPEECH OF DR. DRUMGOOLE. NOTICE OF THE ORTHODOX JOURNAL. HISTORICAL FACTS MISREPRESENTED.

SATURDAY, January 16th, 1819.

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I know that my two last numbers have given great offence to my popish neighbours; and I must again declare, that it was not my intention to offend them, but to expose the wickedness of the church to which they obstinately adhere. They do not like to be accused of maintaining the doctrine, that it is lawful to break faith with heretics. I have the charity to believe, that some of them are not conscious of maintaining it nay, suppose I were to take them one by one, and examine them judicially upon oath, I should find them all disavowing the abominable principle imputed to them. Why, then," it will be asked, "do you persist in fixing such a stigma upon them?" I do so, because it is the doctrine of their church: I have shown it to be so by the most indubitable evidence, notwithstanding the disavowal of six universities; and because no Papist is at liberty to form an opinion of his own, but must receive implicitly whatever his church has decreed. It rests, therefore, with them to reconcile the doctrine of the church with their own solemn oaths. If they will adhere to their church, their oaths will prove them schismatics;-if they believe what they swear, they have abandoned the faith of the church, and have become separatists. Let them make their election. It will be well for them, if their choice shall fall upon the latter, and if they will, in reality, separate themselves from the kingdom of antichrist, and, by believing in Christ, join themselves to the church of God.

It is, I think, a hopeful circumstance, that modern Papists are ashamed of the doctrine, that it is lawful to break faith with heretics. I have hope, however, only of those who are unacquainted with the controversy, and ignorant of their church history; for if there be any who are acquainted with these matters, and who yet maintain that such is not, and never was a doctrine of the church of Rome, I hold them guilty of much worse than a mere error in judgment. I cannot acquit them of wilful misrepresentation and perversion of the truth. I am persuaded that the great body of Papists in Scotland, are really ignorant of the facts recorded in history, some of which I have brought into view. For the sake of such, as well as for the sake of Protestants, I shall proceed to narrate the practice of the church of Rome, agreeably to the doctrine of not keeping faith with heretics, as exemplified by the Inquisition,-a court which is established upon the pure principles of popery, and whose sentences all proceed upon the supreme authority of the holy church.

It is the grand object of this tribunal to find out and to punish heresy. Persons suspected of this worst of all crimes, when brought before the court, were usually tempted to accuse themselves, by promises that if they made a candid confession, they should be kindly or mercifully dealt with. The faith of the holy office was thus pledged

to every merely suspected person who was brought before the court: and if such person was really a heretic; if he had really learned to believe as he was taught by the word of God; and if he honestly confessed what he believed, the plighted faith of the court was broken as a thing of course: if he would not renounce his opinions, he was condemned to torture and death; and if he even did renounce them, he was condemned to suffer shame, and imprisonment, and penance, the remotest possible from the mercy and kindness which he had been promised.

When a person suspected of heresy is brought before the inquisitor,-"Sometimes he speaks kindly to him; pretends that he pities his misfortune; advises him to speak the truth, which he gives him to understand he is acquainted with; and intimates to him some hope of favour and freedom if he confesses: because the holy office of the Inquisition uses to show mercy to such who voluntarily confess their crimes, how grievous and heinous soever they may be, and, in a friendly manner, speaks to him thus:- Don't be afraid openly to confess, if you did happen to believe these sort of persons, who taught such and such things, to be good men. You believed them, and willingly heard them, and gave them somewhat of your substance, or received them sometimes into your house, or made confession to them; because you were a simple man, and loved them, thinking them to be good men, and knowing no evil of them. The same thing might have happened to persons much wiser than you, and so they might have been deceived. I have pity on you, and see your own simplicity hath deceived you, and though you are in some measure faulty, yet they are more so who have instructed you. Tell me, therefore, the truth, for you see I know the whole matter, that I may immediately free you, and show you favour." After this he interrogates him, not so much concerning the fact, as the circumstances of it, that the person may believe he knows the fact already.

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In this manner, the inquisitor endeavours to persuade persons to tell him all that is in their hearts. Those who are simple, and who cannot believe that there is so much wickedness concealed under the mask of kindness, are in general prevailed upon to tell all they know, if it should be against themselves,-if it should be even that they have given a piece of bread, or a cup of water, to a person suspected of heresy. If the person accused by this means, prays for favour, and confesses his error, the inquisitor answers, You shall have much greater favour than you asked; but promises it only in general terms, for he thinks he fulfils his promise, in showing the least kindness to him afterwards. And when they promise to show favour, it is understood only of those punishments which are left to their own power, viz. several penitential punishments, because they cannot remit those which are appointed by law. They farther teach, that notwithstanding the promise of such grace, they may inflict penitential and arbitrary punishments; because, if after a long time, continual admonitions, and sometimes after the torture, criminals confess their offence upon the promise of such grace, the inquisitors may legally and justly inflict more grievous penitential punishments, if they omit the lesser; for if one or other be remitted, they think they abundantly satisfy their promise.

And by these flattering assurances they sometimes overcome the minds of more unwary persons, and when they have obtained the designed end, immediately forget them all. Of this GONSALVIUS gives us a remarkable instance. In the first fire that was blown up at Seville, anno 1558 or 1559, (I suppose he means the first burning for heresy in that city,) amongst many others who were taken up, there was a certain pious matron, with her two virgin daughters, and her niece by her sister, who was married. As they endured those tortures, of all kinds, with a truly manly constancy, by which they endeavoured to make them perfidiously betray their brethren in Christ, and especially to accuse one another, the inquisitor at length commanded one of the daughters to be sent for to audience. There he discoursed with her alone for a considerable time, in order to comfort her, as indeed she needed it. When the discourse was ended, the girl was remanded to prison. Some days after he acted the same part again, causing her to be brought before him several days, toward the evening, detaining her for a considerable while, sometimes telling her how much he was grieved for her afflictions, and then intermixing, familiarly enough, other pleasant and agreeable things. All this, as the event showed, had only this tendency, that after he had persuaded the poor simple girl, that he was really, and with a fatherly affection, concerned for her calamity, and would consult as a father what might be for her benefit and salvation, and that of her mother and sisters, she might wholly throw herself into his protection. After some days spent in such familiar discourses, during which he pretended to mourn with. her over her calamity, and to show himself affected with her miseries, and to give her all the proofs of his good will, in order, as far as he could, to remove them: when he knew that he had deceived the girl, he begins to persuade her to discover what she knew of herself, her mother, sisters, and aunts, who were not yet apprehended, promising, upon oath, that if she would faithfully discover to him all that she knew of that affair, he would find out a method to relieve her from all her misfortunes, and to send them all back again to their houses. The girl, who had no great penetration, being thus allured by the promises and persuasions of the father of the faith, begins to tell him some things relating to the holy doctrine she had been taught, and about which they used to confer with one another. When the inquisitor had now got hold of the thread, he dexterously endeavoured to find his way throughout the whole labyrinth, oftentimes calling the girl to audience, that what she had deposed might be taken down in a legal manner, always persuading her this would be the only just means to put an end to all her evils. In the last audience, he renews to her all his promises, by which he had before assured her of her liberty, and the like. But when the poor girl expected the performance of them, the said inquisitor, with his followers, finding the success of his craftiness, by which he had in part drawn out of the girl, what before they could not extort from her by torments, determined to put her to the torture again, to force out of her what they thought she had yet concealed. Accordingly, she was made to suffer the most cruel part of it, even the rack, and the torture by water; till at last they had squeezed out of her, as with a press, both the heresies and accusations of persons they had been hunting after. For, through the extremity of her