all that has passed, father, you resist this reasonable request, I shall be justified in believing that you are afraid of exposing the real state of the Inquisition in India." To these observations the Inquisitor made no reply; but seemed impatient that I should withdraw "My good father," said I, "I am about to take my leave of you, (it had been before understood that I should take my final leave at the door of the Inquisition, after having seen the interior,) and to thank you for your hospitable attentions, and I wish always to preserve on my mind a favourable sentiment of your kindness and candour. You cannot, you say, show me the captives and dungeons; be pleased, then, merely to answer this question, for I shall believe your word:—How many prisoners are there now below in the cells of the Inquisition?" The Inquisitor replied, "That is a question which I cannot answer!" On his pronouncing these words, I retired hastily towards the door, and wished him farewell. We shook hands with as much cordiality as we could at the moment assume; and both of us, I believe, were sorry that our parting took place with a clouded countenance. From the Inquisition I went to the place of burning in the _Campo Santo-Lazaro_, on the river side, where the victims were brought to the stake at the auto-da-fé. It is close to the palace, that the viceroy and his court may witness the execution; for it has ever been the policy of the Inquisition to make these spiritual executions appear to be the executions of the state. An old priest accompanied me, who pointed out the place and described the scene. As I passed over this melancholy plain, I thought on the difference between the pure and benign doctrine, which was first preached to India in the apostolic age, and that bloody code, which, after a long night of darkness, was announced to it under the same name? And I pondered on the mysterious dispensation, which permitted the ministers of the Inquisition, with their racks and flames, to visit these lands before the heralds of the gospel of peace. But the most painful reflection was, that this tribunal should yet exist, unawed by the vicinity of British humanity and dominion. I was not satisfied with what I had seen or said at the Inquisition, and I determined to go back again. The Inquisitors were now sitting on the tribunal, and I had some excuse for returning; for I was to receive from the chief Inquisitor a letter which he said he would give me, before I left the place, for the British resident at Travancore, being an answer to a letter from that officer.