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cannot convince me that I have not seen and handled, and used in the preparation of this volume, the compendium of an unpublished Roman code of inquisitorial regulations, given to the vicars of the inquisitor-general of Modena.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, be 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.