For such ravings as these the unhappy old man was burnt in recent times. Granger assures us, that a horse, in his remembrance, who had been taught to tell the spots upon cards, the hour of the day, &c. by significant tokens, was, together with his _owner_, put into the inquisition, for both of them dealing with the devil! A man of letters declared that, having fallen into their hands, nothing perplexed him so much as the ignorance of the inquisitor and his council; and it seemed very doubtful whether they had read even the Scriptures. The following most interesting anecdote relating to the terrible inquisition, exemplifying how the use of the diabolical engines of torture forces men to confess crimes they have not been guilty of, was related to Mr. D’Israeli by a Portuguese gentleman. A nobleman in Lisbon having heard that his physician and friend was imprisoned by the inquisition, under the stale pretext of Judaism, addressed a letter to one of them, to request his freedom, assuring the inquisitor, that his friend was as orthodox a Christian as himself. The physician, notwithstanding this high recommendation, was put to the torture; and, as was usually the case, at the height of his sufferings, confessed every thing they wished. This enraged the nobleman, and feigning a dangerous illness, he begged the inquisitor would come to give him his last spiritual aid. As soon as the Dominican arrived, the lord, who had prepared his confidential servants, commanded the inquisitor, in their presence, to acknowledge himself a Jew; to write his confession and to sign it. On the refusal of the inquisitor, the nobleman ordered his people to put on the inquisitor’s head a red hot helmet, which to his astonishment, in drawing aside a screen, he beheld glowing in a small furnace. At the sight of this new instrument of torture, “Luke’s iron crown,” the monk wrote and subscribed this abhorred confession. The nobleman then observed, “See now the enormity of your manner of proceeding with unhappy men! My poor physician, like you, has confessed Judaism; but with this difference, only torments have forced that from him, which fear alone has drawn from you!” The inquisition has not failed of receiving its due praises. Macedo, a Portuguese Jesuit, has discovered the “Origin of the _Inquisition_,” in the terrestrial Paradise, and presumes to allege, that God was the first who began the functions of an inquisitor over Cain and the workmen of Babel! Macedo, however, is not so dreaming a personage as he appears; for he obtained a professor’s chair at Padua, for the arguments he delivered at Venice, against the Pope, which were published by the title of “The Literary Roarings of the Lion of St. Mark;” besides, he is the author of 109 different works; but it is curious how far our interest is apt to prevail over conscience,—Macedo praised the inquisition up to heaven, while he sank the Pope to nothing.