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and more satisfactory termination to his own luminous exposition.

This gentleman is the son of an Englishman who settled in Spain. He was educated in a Spanish university, and became a priest of the Catholic church in Spain. In process of time, however, his eyes were opened to the degrading effects of that faith, more especially under the circumstances of Spanish management. He left Spain, came over to England, renounced Catholicism, and was received as a minister of the Protestant church, in whose service he has ever since continued to be surrounded with every species of respect. This is the person who has undertaken to describe the country of his birth and education, to that of his ancestry and his adoption; and it would certainly be no easy matter to devise a set of circumstances more like ly to prepare a man for the fit execution of such a task.

Nobody, most assuredly, who has not read Mr White's book, can have anticipated anything like the impression which a careful perusal of it is calculated to leave behind. No English reader can easily believe that such a system has actually been subsisting in full vigour so near to ourselves, within our own time. There is such a gulf between-there is such a mixture of the ludicrous and the shocking in the whole picture, that it really requires a continual effort to remember, that it is not a picture of mere imagination. The monks -the lazy, ignorant, unhappy swarms of monks-the crafty, all-penetrating, all-ruling, all-corrupting confessors the miserable victims of deceit withering in a thousand nunneries--the bold hypocrisy thundering in ten thousand pulpits, and alternately fawning and tyrannizing by as many millions of bedsides-the prostrate cowardice of a nation, King, Lords, and Commons, all alike lying bound beneath the influence of this black pestilence the total uptying of mind and heart-the universal amalgamation of sin and fear the eternal multiform struggle, and the uniform gain the whole is so loathsome, that every English eye shrinks back at the first glance with the same" incredulus odi."

Revolting, however, as the bring ing home of such a state of things may be to our imagination-the facts

are clear and indisputable. The influence of this great soul-subduing machinery remained up to the period of which Mr White writesthat is, up to the beginning of the present century-in all its vigour, unchecked, unresisted, irresistible—an universal nightmare brooding over the intellect of this once spirited, chivalrous, and noble people. The ultraroyalist partizans of the English press turn round and tell us, that in spite of external appearances the system had lost its worst virus-and they dwell with especial triumph on the fact, that of latter times the Inquisition had become an almost harmless shadow of what it once was. Be it so: and what does this prove? To our view it proves nothing, but that the Inquisition had done its work so thoroughly that it had nothing more to do. When a country has been conquered to the core-when its inhabitants have lived for ages in the feebleness of contented subjection, one skeleton regiment keeps it in order more effectually, than a whole magnificent standing army could have done at the beginning. And so it was here. The very dream of resistance had been extirpated. The despotism had sat down secure and opaque. The work was accomplished. The mind had been trained to creeping—what need could there be

"To trash for overtopping ?" Hear what Mr White says of one (for it is only one) of the established `instruments of this established thraldom -and consider who it is that speaks it is one who had himself sat in the Confessional, as well as kneeled before it

"Auricular confession, as a subject of theological controversy, is, probably, benot easily allow the name of philosopher neath the notice of many; but I could to any one who should look upon an inquiry into the moral influence of that reinterest. It has been observed, with great ligious practice, as perfectly devoid of truth, that the most philanthropic man would feel more uneasiness in the expectation of having his little finger cut off, than in the assurance that the whole empire of China was to be swallowed up, the next day, by an earthquake. If ever, therefore, these lines should meet the eye of the public in some distant country, (for ages must pass before they can see the light in Spain), I entreat my readers

.to beware of indifference about evils from which it is their happiness to be free, and to make a due allowance for the feelings which lead me into a short digression. They certainly cannot expect to be acquainted with Spain without a sufficient knowledge of the powerful moral engines which are at work in that country; and they will, perhaps, find that a Spanish priest may have something to say which is new to them on the subject of confession.

"The effects of confession upon young minds, are generally unfavourable to their future peace and virtue. It was to that practice I owed the first taste of remorse, while yet my soul was in a state of infant purity. My fancy had been strongly impressed with the awful conditions of the penitential law, and the word sacrilege had made me shudder on being told that the act of concealing any thought or action, the rightfulness of which I suspected, would make me guilty of that worst of crimes, and greatly increase my danger of everlasting torments. My parents had, in this case, done no more than their duty according to the rules of their church. But, though they had succeeded in rousing my fear of hell, this was, on the other hand, too feeble to overcome a childish bashfulness, which made the disclosure of a harmless trifle an effort above my strength.

"The appointed day came at last, when I was to wait on the confessor. Now wavering, now determined not to be guilty of sacrilege, I knelt before the priest, leaving, however, in my list of sins, the last place to the hideous offence-I believe it was a petty larceny committed on a young bird. But when I came to the dreaded point, shame and confusion fell upon me, and the accusation stuck in my throat. The imaginary guilt of this silence haunted my mind for four years, gathering horrors at every successive confession, and rising into an appalling spectre, when, at the age of twelve, I was taken to receive the sacrament. In this miserable state I continued till, with the advance of reason, I plucked, at fourteen,

courage enough to unburthen my conscience by a general confession of the past. And let it not be supposed that mine is a singular case, arising either from morbid feeling or the nature of my early education. Few, indeed, among the many penitents I have examined, have escaped the evils of a similar state; for, what a silly bashfulness does in children, is often, in after life, the immediate effect of that shame by which fallen frailty clings still to wounded virtue. The necessity of confession, seen at a distance, is lighter than a feather in the balance of desire; while, at a subsequent period, it becomes a punishment on delicacy—an instrument to blunt the moral sense, by multiplying the subjects of remorse, and directing its greatest terrors against imaginary crimes.

"These evils affect, nearly equally, the two sexes; but there are some that fall peculiarly to the lot of the softer. Yet the remotest of all-at least as long as the Inquisition shall exist-is the danger of direct seduction from the priest. The formidable powers of that odious tribunal have been so skilfully arrayed against the abuse of sacramental trust, that few are found base and blind enough to make the confessional a direct instrument of debauch. The strictest delicacy, however, is, I believe, inadequate fully to oppose the demoralizing tendency of auricular confession. Without the slightest responsibility, and, not unfrequently, in the conscientious discharge of what he believes his duty, the confessor conveys to the female mind the first foul breath which dims its virgin purity. He, undoubtedly, has a right to interrogate upon subjects which are justly deemed awkward even for maternal confidence ; and it would require more than common simplicity to suppose that a discretionary power of this nature, left in the hands of thousands-men beset with more than common temptations to abuse it-will generally be exercised with proper caution.* But I will no longer dwell upon this subject for the present. Men of unprejudiced minds will easily

In justice to Mr White we must quote his Note." I must observe, that the degree of delicacy, or its opposite, in a confessor-besides the individual influence of virtue and good breeding-must greatly depend upon the general refinement of the people among whom he exercises his powers. Such is the state of manners in England, that few or none, I will venture to say, among its Catholic females, will probably be aware of any evil tendency in auricular confession. I would not equally answer for Ireland, especially among the lower classes. Since these Letters, however, would not have seen the light without my consent, I must here, once for all, enter my protest against the supposition of their being intended as an attack on the large and respectable portion of our fellow-subjects who profess the Roman Catholic faith. That I firmly believe in the abstract tendency which is here attributed to Catholicism, I cannot, will not deny. Yet we should not confound Catholicism in the rank luxuriance of full growth, with the same noxious plant gradually tamed and reclaimed under the shade of Protestantism. Thus, while I am persuaded that the religion of Spain, Portugal, and Naples is the main ob stacle to the final establishment of liberty in those countries, I positively deny the inference that Catholics must necessarily, and in all possible circumstances, make a wrong use of political power.”... Editor.

conjecture what I leave unsaid; while to shew a hope of convincing such as have made a full and irrevocable surrender of their judgment, were only to libel my own."

To this we shall only add one fact of our own; and this is, that anybody who has seen the popular books of religious instruction that are to be found on every parlour window throughout Spain-the books that answer there to our Pilgrim's Progress, Whole Duty of Man, Nelson's Fasts and Festivals, and the like-must be aware that Mr White has much understated the actual horrors of this auricular system. The deliberate filth of these bookswe speak advisedly-is certainly a thousand miles beyond anything that is to be found in the worst books forbidden to be sold in England, on the score of their indecency. Under the pretence of confessorial privilege, the priestly authors of these books have arranged, in the form of catechisms, &c., the most minute revelations of all the symptoms of every lawless passion-even of those which it is impossible to name to English ears. Stories of ghosts, and dreams, and visions, worked up often with very considerable vigour of fancy and language, intersperse the details of these horrors; and saints, and martyrs, and virgins, are made to take a part in their exposition. We are really quite serious when we say, that no books that ever were written by English profligates by profession-nay, that none we have ever heard of as existing even in France -come near, speaking merely of sensual filth, to some of the most favoured manuals of Spanish piety-manuals which are put into the hands of every girl and boy as soon as they can spell out the words; and which are at this moment carried about as perpetual vade-mecums in the sleeves of many thousands of Spanish Father Confessors.

As for the priests themselves, Mr White certainly represents their state very boldly. Mark these emphatic

words

"Among my numerous acquaintance in the Spanish clergy, I have never met with any ONE, possessed of bold talents, who has not, sooner or later, changed from the most sincere piety to a state of unbelief."

The following is part of a story of which Mr White does not expressly

sag that he himself is the hero; but it is impossible not to suspect that such is the fact, knowing, what everybody does know, of Mr W.'s own history.

"This first taste of mental liberty was more delicious than any feeling I ever experienced; but it was succeeded by a burning thirst for everything that, by destroying my old mental habits, could strengthen and confirm my unbelief. I gave an exorbitant price for any French irreligious books, which the love of gain induced some Spanish booksellers to import at their peril. The intuitive knowledge of one another, which persecuted principles impart to such as cherish them in common, made me soon acquainted with several members of my own profession, deeply versed in the philosophical school of France. They possessed, and made no difficulty to lend me, all the Antichristian works, which teemed from the French press. Where there is no liberty, there can be no discrimination. abstinence, makes the mind gorge itself The ravenous appetite raised by a forced with all sorts of food. I suspect I have thus imbibed some false, and many crude notions from my French masters. But my circumstances preclude the calm and dispassionate examination which the subject deserves. Exasperated by the daily necessity of external submission to doctrines and persons I detest and despise, my soul overflows with bitterness. Though I acknowledge the advantages of moderation, none being used towards me, I practically, and in spite of my better judgment, learn to be a fanatic on my own side.

"Pretending studious retirement, I have fitted up a small room, to which none but my confidential friends find admittance. There lie my prohibited books, in perfect concealment, in a well-contrived nook under a stair-case. The Breviary alone, in its black-binding, clasps, and gilt leaves, is kept upon the table, to check the doubts of any chance intruder."

Descending from these the educated gentlemen of the Spanish Churchwhose lofty principles of moral action certainly require no comment after what has been quoted, we come to the clergy of mere laziness-the monks; and then, many steps lower, to the chosen shep herds of the vulgar-the friars. Mr White says, "their distinguishing characters are vulgarity, filth, and vice," -and then proceeds as follows:

"The inveterate superstition which still supports these institutions among us, has lost, of late, its power to draw recruits to the cloister from the middle and

higher classes. Few monks, and scarceJy a friar, can be found, who, by taking the cowl, has not escaped a life of menial toil, Boys of this rank of life are received as novices at the age of fourteen, and admitted, after a year's probation, to the perpetual vows of obedience, poverty, and celibacy. Engagements so discordant with the first laws of human nature could hardly stand the test of time, even if they arose from the deepest feelings of enthu siasm. But this affection of the mind is seldom found in our convents. The year of noviciate is spent in learning the cant and gestures of the vilest hypocrisy, as well as in strengthening, by the example of the professed young friars, the original gross manners and vicious habits of the probationers. The result of such a system is but too visible. It is a common jest among the friars themselves, that in the act of taking the vows, when the superior of the convent draws the cowl over the head of the probationer, he uses the words Tolle verecundiam-Put off shame.' And, indeed, were the friars half so true to their profession as they are to this supposed injunction, the church of Rome would really teem with saints. Shameless in begging, they share the scanty meal of the labourer, and extort a portion of every product of the earth from the farmer. Shameless in conduct, they spread vice and demoralization among the lower classes, secure in the respect which is felt for their profession, that they may engage in a course of profligacy without any risk of exposure. When an instance of gross misconduct obtrudes itself upon the eyes of the public, every pious person thinks it his duty to hush up the report, and cast a veil on the transaction. Even the sword of justice is glanced aside from these consecrated criminals. I shall not trouble you with more than two cases out of a multitude, which prove the power of this popular feeling.

consists in a soft clear-toned voice, a tender and affectionate manner, and an incredible fluency of language. Being, by his profession, under a vow of absolute poverty, and the Franciscan rule carrying this vow so far as not to allow the members of the order to touch money, it was generally understood that the produce of these apostolical labours was faithfully deposited, to be used in common by the whole religious community. An incident, however, which lately came to light, has given us reason to suspect that we are not quite in the secret of the internal management of these societies of saintly paupers, and that individual industry is rewarded among them with a considerable share of profits. A young female, cousin of the zealous preacher in question, was living quite alone in a retired part of this town, where her relative paid her, it should seem, not unfrequent visits. Few, however, except her obscure neighbours, suspected her connection with the friar, or had the least notion of her existence. An old woman attended her in the day-time, and retired in the evening, leaving her mistress alone in the house. One morning the street was alarmed by the old servant, who, having gained admittance, as usual, by means of a private key, found the young woman dead in her bed, the room and other parts of the house being stained with blood. It was clear, indeed, upon a slight inspection of the body, that no violence had taken place; yet the powerful interest excited at the moment, and before measures had been taken to hush the whole matter, spread the circumstances of the case all over the town, and brought the fact to light, that the house itself belonged to the friar, having been purchased by an agent with the money arising from his sermons. The hungry vultures of the law would have reaped an abundant harvest upon any lay individual who had been involved in such a train of suspicious circumstances. But, probably, a proper douceur out of the sermon fees increased their pious tenderness for the friar; while he was so emboldened by the disposition of the people to shut their eyes on every circumstance which might sully the fair name of a son of St Francis, that, a few days after the event, he preached a sermon, denouncing the curse of Heaven on the impious individuals who could harbour a belief derogatory to his sacred character.

"The most lucrative employment for friars, in this town, is preaching. I have not the means to ascertain the number of sermons delivered at Seville in the course of the year; but there is good reason to suppose that the average cannot be less than twelve a-day. One popular preacher, a clergyman, I know, who scarcely passes one day without mounting the pulpit, and reckons on three sermons every four-and-twenty hours during the last half of Lent.

"Of these indefatigable preachers, the greatest favourite is a young Franciscan friar, called Padre R-z, whose merit

"Crimes of the blackest description were left unpunished during the last reign, from a fixed and avowed determination of the King* not to inflict the punishment

Charles III.

of death upon a priest. Townsend has mentioned the murder of a young lady, committed by a friar at San Lucar de Barrameda ; and I would not repeat the painful narrative, were it not that my acquaintance with some of her relatives, as well as with the spot on which she fell, enables me to give a more accurate state

ment.

“A young lady, of a very respectable family in the above-mentioned town, had for her confessor a friar of the Reformed or Unshod Carmelites. I have often visited the house where she lived, in front of the convent. Thither her mother took her every day to mass, and frequently to confession. The priest, a man of middle age, had conceived a passion for his young penitent, which, not venturing to disclose, he madly fed by visiting the unsuspecting girl with all the frequency which the spiritual relation in which he stood towards her, and the friendship of her parents, allowed him. The young woman, now about nineteen, had an offer of a suitable match, which she accepted, with the approbation of her parents. The day being fixed for the marriage, the bride, according to custom, went, attended by her mother, early in the morning to church,

to confess and receive the sacrament. After giving her absolution, the confes sor, stung with the madness of jealousy, was observed whetting a knife in the kitchen. The unfortunate girl had, in the meantime, received the host, and was now leaving the church, when the villain, her confessor, meeting her in the porch, and pretending to speak a few words in her ear-a liberty to which his office entitled him-stabbed her to the heart in the presence of her mother. The assassin did not endeavour to escape. He was committed to prison; and after the usual delays of the Spanish law, he was condemned to death. The King, however, commuted this sentence into a confinement for life in a fortress at Puerto Rico. The only anxiety ever shewn by the murderer was respecting the success of his crime. He made frequent inquiries to ascertain the death of the young woman; and the assurance that no man could possess the object of his passion, seemed to make him happy during the remainder of a long life."

The whole of this book is rich with similar details. We have merely extracted a single morsel or two, by way of specimen. The part in which the nuns are treated of, contains, indeed, not a few things which we should scarcely be pardoned for transplanting

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into pages liable to be scen pueris virginibusque." What we have extracted, however, may, we dare say, be accepted as furnishing a sufficient justification of our own strong language at the outset.

The population of Spain, then, was, at the time when Buonaparte invaded her soil, everywhere under the undisputed, at least unchallenged, influence of this despotic clergy. Holding an enormous proportion of the land in property-drawing tythes from all the rest-furnishing confessors and directors to every individual, from the King to the hangman-omnipotent over the women-artfully adapting themselves to the wants, and desires, and weaknesses of every class of society-this great body, embracing, be it observed, a vast number of deliberate infidels, predominated wide and far; and their rule there was no one to question.

most closely allied with it, was that of Second only to this influence, and the Spanish nobility. They were, of course, universally educated by the clergy. The highest offices and emowithout an exception, in the hands of luments of the church were, almost persons born within their own class. Humbled into the semblance of slavish submission at the court where they were compelled to reside during a great part of the year, the Spanish Signiors enjoyed, when visiting their vast estates in the country, a measure of feudal authority and influence, such as has been altogether undreamed of in England for the last two or three centuries. There the lord and the bishop were all in all; and both, it is fair to say, exerted their sway in a style well calculated to secure the love and attachment of the peasantry. In the capital, on the other hand, the court and the clergy were all in all; while, in the commercial sea-port towns, the influence of the nobles was, comparatively speaking, unknown; and the clergy held their sway, the only universal sway, divided with an aristrocracy of

mere wealth.

Such was the state of Spain when Buonaparte began that part of his career, of which, as it has been so recently and so ably sketched in the Quarterly Review, (article on Southey's History of the Peninsular War,) we shall say nothing at present. Such, in every particular, was the state of the Spanish mind-such were the predo

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