Newspaper Page Text
2
“and now if you will leave me I can
sleep.
And the days passed swiftly away,
and the wedding day was rapidly ap
proaching. Arthur evidently did not
wish to arrive at the Italian Sutherland
any length of time before the appointed
day, and se he lingered until de Yere
would bear it no longer, and so they set
out. With all the delay that Arthur
made he found that they would arrive
the day before the wedding-day. This
did not suit his plans at all, so on the
last stage of their journey he suddenly
found out that he was very sick, it was
utterly impossible for him to proceed a
mile further, and they were compelled to
halt. Be Yere spent the day and night
in a most unenviable frame of mind, but
in the morning Arthur was quite well,
and they resumed their journey in high
spirits. They were just in time, barely
three hours intervened between the time
of their arrival and the hour fixed for
the wedding.
Ormand and Emily went at once to
Eugenia’s house, but Arthur accom
* panied de Yere to his own rooms, and
calling his servant to unpack their ward-
produced the suit he had prepared
for de Yere.
“What have you done Arthur ?” said
the Count, reproachfully ; “this suit is
as near as may be like the one I w ? as
married in.”
“I know it, “said Arthur, “but observe,
it is not so gay as that one, the velvet
is a darker blue, and the sleeves are
lined with white satin instead of the
delicate straw color that was in the
other, you do not like it?”
“Oh ! yes, it is very handsome, and
you have spent a fortune on this rich
lace, and these diamond rosettes on my
shoes, but—:”
“Oh ! but 1” exclaimed Arthur, “do
you know you arc wasting time ?”
“You arc dressing me as much like
Reginald Sutherland as possible !” said
dc Yere, suspiciously.
“And suppose I am ?” laughed Ar
thur.
“You want her to recognize me !” ex
claimed de Yere.
“Truly I do, but I will be disappoint
ed !”
“If I had time to get another suit—.”
“But you haven’t, so hurry, I tell you
Regie, you will be late.”
“You will not tell her Arthur ?”
“On my honor I will not!”
If Arthur hoped that Eugenia would
recognize Reginald, he was most
grcviously disappointed.
When de Yere entered the room to
lead her forth to the chapel, she stood
beside her sister with pale cheeks and
downcast eyes, nor did she once lift them
to de Yore’s face, not even when she
placed her trembling fingers in his.
The solemn words were said, and dc
Yere led his bride again to her sister;
Arthur bit his lips with vexation, for
Eugenia had wedded the Count dc Yere,
not his brother.
I doubt, if Eugenia would have known
it, had Arthur himself stood by her side,
for never yet had she looked up, her
eyes were fixed upon the floor as if she
dared not meet the brilliant eyes of Louis
de Vcre.
, |TO BE CONTINUED.]
For tlie Banner of the South.
THE INQUISITION.
Taken from the French, by Rev. David Moyks.
NUMBER FOUR.
The political character and scope of
the Inquisition is gradually becoming
more known, and, in proportion, a more
correct view of its peculiar relations with
the Church has been formed. Os late
years, history has, for the most part,
puijfied itself from that gross admixture
of error with which it had been defiled,
and has learned to deal out justice im
partially, and recognize, in every place,
and on every subject, the sacred rights
of Truth. But the evil results of erro
neous judgments upon the subject of the
Inquisition still exist in part, and it may
be well, before we conclude, to refute
several of these prejudices which are
common, and which still enchain the
minds of a considerable portion ol our
dissenting brethren.
And, iu the first place, the present
subject should be treated from a correct
point of view. It very frequently hap
pens that the events which have taken
place in the fifteenth century arc appreci
ated according to the principles ot the
age in which we live. This is a fruitful
source of error, and has been a rock
upon which many have split. The liberty
of conscience, in a certain sense, is in
scribed in the Constitution of a great
number of tiie European States. It is
true that it is not always put in practice;
but it is nevertheless true, that where
the interests of the civil power are not at
stake, Governments care but very little
as to what peculiar views a man may
hold on the subject of Religion, or what
peculiar form of worship he may choose
to follow. It was different in the Middle
Ages. It was admitted everywhere, as
an undeniable principle, that apostacy
was a crime of treason, and that, in order
to be a good and faithful citizen, it was
necessary to profess the Religion ot the
State in which one happened to reside.
The Inquisition was built upon this prin
ciple. If we censure the Kings of Sjiain,
we must remember, at the same time,
that they were not the only beings who
had followed a mistaken policy, and that
if they held erroneous principles, they
held them in common with the age in
which they lived. Nor are Protestant
Princes to be excepted. The same course
of action w r as folio wed by them, and de
fended with the same show of zeal as
their Catholic cotemporaries. Thus the
Elector, Frederick 111., who had been
educated as a Lutheran, suddenly became
a Calvinist, and immediately ordered
that all the Communes of the Palatinate
should do the same, and where several
amongst them thought proper to refuse,
they were at once cast into exile. Thir
teen years later, in 1576, his son Louis
turned his back upon his father, and re
established Lutheranism, the inevitable
consequeuce of which was the publication
of an edict commanding all the Com
munes of the Palatinate to renounce Gal
vanism and become Lutherans again.
Those who refused were likewise pun
ished.
In 1553 the Couut Palatine, John
Casimir, the tutor of Frederick IV., fol
lowed precisely in the same track, and
commanded all his subjects to become
Calvinists. Iu this way, it often happened
that, in order to show loyalty to the State,
individuals were obliged to change their
Religion as often as the Prince to whose
allegiance they were subject.
When we consider that such was the
state of Europe in the Middle Ages, and
even in more modern times, it would not
be just to criticise too severely Ferdinand
and Isabella ; they simply did in Spain
what the Lutherans and Calvanists did in
Germany. Those who did not conform
to the State Religion were punished with
equal*severity on the Rhine as on the
Guadalquiver; and it would be a difficult
matter to say whether it were better for
the unfortunate heretic to fall into the
hands of a Spanish Inquisitor, or into the
hands of a zealous Lutheran Prince.
In the second place, the Inquisition is
reproached for the extreme rigor of its
penalties. This reproacli has, certainly,
some foundation; but we must not forget
that, in general, laws were more severe
in those times than now. Many crimes
for which a slight punisment is now at
tached, were then punished by death.
Thus, in the 16th century, the Spanish
law condemned those guilty of coining
false money, to be burned alive on the
fuuerat pile. Those who used false
weights and measures were lacerated
with rods, and frequently punished with
death. The burglar met his penalty by
strangulation, and when they wanted to
show a little mercy, they commuted his
sentence to having his hand cut off, or his
eyes plucked out. During the same
period, any highway robbery, no matter
with what extenuating circumstances it
was attended, was likewise a capital
offence.
It is evident, then, that the spirit of
society at large was severe towards crime
of any sort, When we sec the civil
authority so cruel, it is not astonishing to
sec that the penalties of Religion were
also rigorous and strict,
We cannot, in this age, reflect upon
the fact that the crime of heresy was
punishable with death without feeling a
sentiment of horror arise within us. Nor
are we wrong. But if we censure the
Inquisition for this cruel jurisprudence,
we cannot, under pain of inconsistency
and injustice, abstain from casting upon
Protestantism the same reproach. Its
founders did not hesftate to send to the
scaffold even those among their followers
who ventured to criticise their doctrine.
Michel Servet suffered death for daring
to think differently from Calvin on the
mystery of the Trinity. The Patriarch
of Geneva did not rest content with
simply refuting his book, but he caused
him to be burned alive on the public
square, while he himself witnessed the
execution from a neighboring window.
Torquemada was bad enough, but cer
tainly Calvin was not far behind him. It
is worthy of note, likewise, that in the
different Protestant confessions,. wc do
not find a single clause which might be
interpreted as a disapproval of his con
duct; so closely was it in conformity
with the spirit of the times. On the
contrary, he received from all quarters
the warmest felicitations, and amongst the
rest, the mild Melancthon wrote : “I have
read the book in which you refute, in
detail, the horrible blasphemies of Servet,
and 1 render thanks to the Son of G and
t hat lie has given you, in the combat, the
Mill! ©I 111 SOIIS.
reward due to your courage. The Church
owes you, to-day and forever, a debt of
gratitude. lam in perfect accord with
you, and I maintain that your Magistrates
have acted justly in executing that blas
phemer, alter a legal investigation.”
Servet was not the only one immolated
by the same party for the crime of heresy.
Valentine Gentilis, Bolsec, Carlostadt,
Cruet, Castcllio Ameaux, and many more
were punished, on the same grouuds,
with imprisonment, exile, or death; and
they were convinced, by personal expe
rience, that there were more Inquisitions
han the one in Spain, and those of a
character not less cruel or vindictive.
We must, therefore, be just, and refrain
from casting obloquy upon the Inquisi
tion, alouu, and passing by, in silence,
others which have equally deserved re
proach. Why ascribe to one particular
institution crimes which were common to
all the confessions ? Let us congratulate
each other that in this age no one is
burned alive ; but why revive the smoul
dering embers of the iuneral pile to cast
them in the face of Catholics ? To say
the least of it, it is unjust, and we would
address to all who follow this uncharita
ble course, the words ot Lacordairc :
“Let us forget the past, upon which it is
so easy to form err >neous opinions, and
let us look to the present. Who is it now
who persecutes? The whole universe
hears the groans of Catholic Ireland, op
pressed bv the Anglican Church. Cal
vanistic Holland has driven, as it were,
to the frontiers, Cathode Belgians, Prus
sia has thrown a Catholic Bishop into
prison, arid has violated her promises oi
justice and protection to half the K ingdom
for a question of spiritual benediction.
The persecution of the Church of Poland
still continues with unabated vigor, and
aims at nothing less than the complete
extinction of the Polish Nation and the
ruin of its Faith. And, again, in Spain
and Portugal, who has not witnessed the
persecution conducted by Liberalism
against the Religious Orders, and the
most horrible tortures inflicted upon them
in the name of “liberty of conscience ?”
Truly, we might say to those who are
forever talking about the Inquisition, “let
him who is without blame throw the first
stone.”
In the third place, a groat deal has been
said about the tortures to which the un
happy victims of the Inquisition were
subjected. But we must not forget that
the same tortures were applied, for the
most part, by all the secular tribunals,
and that they held their place in many
of the European codes, up to the 19th
century. In practice, however, they
were abolished towards the middle of the
last century. Notwithstanding all this,
the spirit of the Inquisition ivas milder
and more humane than were the other
tribunals throughout Europe at this
period. Compare, for example, the
statutes of Torquemada with the penal
codes of Charles Y. The latter drew up
a code, which, for refinement of cruelty,
surpassed those others, in which the
wheel, the sword, or the tire, was the
limit; it ordered, in certain cases, the
cars and fingers to be cut off', and then the
victim to be buried alive ! There were
no chains iu the Inquisition, nor collars
of iron ; the prison cells were conve
niently large and airy, while in other
prisons throughout Europe, we read of
nothing but prisoners loaded with iron
manacles, and breathing the lootid and
pestilential atmosphere of dungeons ex
cavated in the bottom of the earth. In
the case of sickness, the Inquisition was
humane, and all the attention possible
was given to the suffering'; but, else
where, it mattered little whether the
victims died or not, except, perhaps, the
officers might feel chagrined that they
had escaped the hands of justice. And,
in regard of “putting to the torture” those
who were accused, with a view to extort
from them the confession of their guilt,
it was only used once by the Inquisition,
while the civil legislation of the period
allowed this mode of punishment to be
used whenever they thought it necessary.
It was often thought necessary, and
whether the accused was guilty or not,
he generally had to pass through this
trying ordeal. Before this cruelty was
resorted to by the Inquisition, every
means was tried, and then, where all fail
ed, the consent of the supreme tribunal
was required; besides, it could only be
inflicted in presence of the Bishop, the
consultors, and a physician, whose duty
it was to protect the sufferer from undue
severity.
We cannot, however, defend the ap
plication of this kind of legislation; but
we affirm, again, that it is unjust to re
proach the Inquisition in particular with
a procedure which was lollowed, at this
period, by every country in Europe.
A few words more, and we have
done.
A great deal has been said about what
is called an “auto da fc," or an “act of
faith.” The first idea that strikes us is
au immense fire, upon which is placed a
cauldron of colossal dimensions; the flesh
and bones of unhappy beings, whose only
crime was that of being wiser than their
generation, boiling and bubbling through
the heated water, while a group of Span
iards are squatting around, grinning like
cannibals, with savage exultation. All
this is an egregious error. No person
has ever been boiled or burned in an
auto da fe. These solemnities, which
have given rise to such unpleasant
thoughts, were nothing more than simple
ceremonies, in which individuals, accused
falsely, were acquitted with a kind of
pomp, or in which the guilty, having re
pented of their crimes, were formally
reconciled to the bosom of the Church.
If there was anything burnt at all, it was
the candle which the penitent held in his
hand as a sign that the light of Faith had
shined once more upon his soul. If
there were any, however, who still per
sisted in this error, they were handed
over to the secular authority to be dealt
with according as the civil law prescribed.
The auto da fe was then finished.
Llarente, an historian most hostile to
the Church, relates that, at Toledo, in
1486, there were 750 punished, but
arnongsi, this number, there was not one
solitary individual sentenced to death.
In another auto da fe, of the same year,
out of 900 victims, no one was sentenced
to death. It was rare when the processes
of the Inquisition ended with the verdict
of death pronounced by the civil authori
ty, and this is affirmed by authors whose
peculiar religious view's establish their
veracity on this point, and preclude the
possibility of suspicion. The results of
these solemnities were such as wc have
described, and the Spanish people, ot
every rank and sex, regarding them as
acts of mercy, rather than as acts ol
cruelty, eagerly took part in those cere
monies more consolatory to the Church
than fearful to its enemies.
These are the observations which wc
have thought proper to make upon the
subject of the Inquisition. We do not
pretend to defend it. AV edo not recog
nise iu the State the right to interfere
with the majesty of the conscience, and
we are enemies to every species of re
ligious oppression, whether it comes to us
in the garb of a Dominican, a State official,
or a Lutheran Prince. All that we have
labored to show, is that the Spanish In
quisition was not so cruel, in its statutes
and in its operation, as it lias been repre
sented to be ; that, whatever cruelties did
exist, are to be ascribed to the vindictive
nature of that generation ; and, lastly,
that its excesses are not to be imputed
to the Church, for, in the words of the
Protestant Guizot, whom wc have already
quoted: “the Inquisition was more politi
cal than religious, and destined to main
tain public order rather than to defend
the Faith.” the end.
EX-CONFEDERATE LIEUT- BRAIN-
A reporter of the N. Y. Tribune gives
in that paper of the 20th inst, the follow
ing account of this unlawfully persecuted
gentleman :
One who has first seen Brain at the
time of his examination before U. S.
Commissioner Newton, in September,
1866, yesterday went in scarce of the
prisoner whose confinement has been so
unusual. Calling at the jail in Raymond
street, be found the prison van at the
door filled with convicts reayd to be con
veyed to the penitentiary. Seating
himself on the box with the driver—a
cheerful old cove who docs not look at
all as. if he had delivered, upon an average,
a dozen men per day to the keepers of
that institution for full as many years—
the van bore the entire party along
Flatbush avenue, and through Prospect
Park to the penitentiary. The villainous
smoke and the sombre looks within were
in strange contrast to the fresh air and
cheerful skies without, but arriving at
the penitentiary all entered that Castle
of Delinquency together. The formality
of receving and disposing of the convicts
being ended, lie then had an opportunity
to ask for Lieut. Brain. After a brief
delay, the consent of Brain to the visit
having been first obtained, he was taken
for the interview into the well warmed
and lighted corridor The prisoner
c heerfully reached out one hand by way
of friendly welcome, while in the other
he held his pipe and tobacco box, the
solace of his prison hours. The formal
ities of the interview being over, pencil
and paper were soon at work tracing the
story which had been told in the news
papers before, but this time it came from
Brain’s own lips, and in his own way.
Lung after the heat and passion of the
war had passed, and with his proud spirit
mellowed, if not to overcome, by con
finement and suffering, it has anew in
terest and a personal charm.
He said: My name is John C. Brain—
not Braine—and I was a First Lieuten
ant, commanding in the Confederate navy.
My commission and orders were written
on fly-sheet note paper and they were
either worn out or lost. The archives of
the Confederate Naval Department
being destroyed by the Federal f< JrC(l3
it is impossible to obtain the original
papers deposited there, but I have placed
affidavits in the hands of the Attorney
General of the United States setting
out all the facts in the case. These affi.
davits are by Stephen R. Mallory, the
Secretary of the Confederate Navy, D r
Jones, Auditor, and Mr. Tidball, Chief
Clerk of the Naval Department, Admiral
Semmes, Capt. Maffit, and others. I Q
June, iB6O, I received orders from the
department at Richmond to go North
with my command, consisting of seven
teen officers and men, and take passage
in a steamer with the purpose of captu
ring it upon the high seas. The Chesa
peake sailed from New York for Portland
in December, and I took passage upon
her in obedience to the orders I had
previously received. After seizing the
vessel I was to proceed to Seal Cove, in
the island of Grand Manan, off the coast
of Maine, for coal, and there hand the
vessel over to Capt. John Parker, nn
superior officer. 111 making the capture
I detailed L’eut. Cowlins and two men
to take charge of the engine and fire
room, The engine-room communicated
with the cabin by ad tor on the port side.
After seeing the men go into the engine
room, I passed forward, Lieut. H. a.
Parr having charge of the deck in my
absence. While forward 1 heard a shot
fired in the engine-room, and at once
went aft through the cabin into the engine
room, and thence into the fire room,
where I found the fireman in irons.
Returning to the deck, 1 found no one
in the engine-rooin ; but, much to my
dismay and regret, saw the body of the
second engineer of the Chesapeake lyin<r
across the threshold of the door. Goirw
forward I found Lieut. Cowlins, who
reported to me that when he went into
the engine-room the engineer was below
oiling the machinery, but after securing
the fireman, he found that officer at his
post. He ordered the engineer to surren
der as a prisoner-of-war to the Confed
erate States of America, and that officer
replied by firing a shot which maimed
one of the men for life. I did not see
the firing which followed, hut after
seeing the man in the doorway, I sent
Lieut. Parr, who was a regular physic
ian, to examine him. Lieut. Parr pro
nounced the man dead. One of the
witnesses who testified before United
States Commissioner Newton, said fiat
he saw me in my shirt sleeves with a
knife in my hand. This is not only not
true, but it is very uulikely that it should
be true, the day being a bitter cold day
in December. 1 had no arms except
Colt’s revolvers. On arriving at Seal
Cove after the capture, I found that my
superior officer was not there, I remai
ned about three hours, and then procee
ded up the Bay of Funday, meeting
Capt. Parker at sea, in a pilot boat, about
sixty miles from St. John, N. B. The
captain, officers, and some of the crew of
the Chesapeake were transferred to the
pilot boat, and taken to St. John.
Captain Parker then took command,
and changing the course of the vessel,
put into Skelburne, Nova Scotia, for tb *
purpose of coaling. While the vessel
was in the port, I was ordered to Halifax
to procure supplies, and I was never
again on board the Chesapeake in an
official capacity. The ship was recap
tured in Sand Bar Harbor, near Halifax,
by the U. S. gunboat Ella & Annie,
Capt. Nicholls, and taken to that city,
where the original capture was adjudged
an act of war. The vessel was handed
over to the owners, Messrs. Cromwell &
Cos., of New York, upon a deposit oi
$70,000 being made to the British
authorities, and Mr. Seward afterward
made au apology for the recapture. j
wish to make a clear and unequi\
statement that, in every capture 1 made,
private property w T as scrupulously re
spected, and human life never heed
lessly sacrificed. The men were armed
with Colt’s revolvers, but carried nu
knives or other weapons. In every case
I issued strict orders to my officers v.'.ni
men not to fire upon any one unless ni
si stance was offered. At the close oi m
war was jn command of the Couh'T ’.-
tae States schooner St. Mary s, > !1 L: ‘
West Indies. ,
Upon being informed of that evem. y
burned the vessel, and returned to tea
country in October, 1865, trusting ■
security to President Lincoln s 1 . ■ ■
tiou of Amnesty. I engaged in
at Savannah, where my family mw ■
On the 13th of September, 186 R
arrested at the Wall House in 1
burgh, and, after bieng ironed '
taken to the Fortv-fitth Precinc
House, where I was kept all mg.«t■ -
our bedding of any kind, thoug 1 , at
to pay liberally for it. I took a cold h
night which has been the cause of m
suffering. After being aam t 0
United States Commissioner. 1 "a.