"The Inquisitors," says Llorente, "gave it in charge to the most able divines of Saragossa to reclaim Solano, and even requested Don Miguel Suarez de Santander, auxiliary bishop of that town, and apostolic missionary, (now, like myself, a refugee in France,) to exhort him, with all the tenderness and goodness of a Christian minister, which are so natural to that worthy prelate. The vicar showed a grateful sense of all that was done for him; but declared that he could not renounce his religious persuasion without offending God, by acting treacherously against the truth. On the twenty-first day of his illness, the physician warned him of approaching death, urging him to improve the short time which he had to live. 'I am in the hands of God,' answered Solano, 'and have nothing else to do.' Thus died, in 1805, the vicar of Esco. He was denied Christian burial, and his body privately interred within the inclosure of the Inquisition, near the back gate of the building, towards the Ebro. The Inquisitors reported all that had taken place to the supreme tribunal, whose members approved their conduct, and stopt all further proceedings, in order to avoid the necessity of burning the deceased in effigy." We shall close this chapter with the following able and just remarks of Puigblanch, on the iniquitous procedure of the holy office. "The Inquisition," says that elegant writer, "in its relations as a tribunal, as well as in the laws by which it is governed, tramples to the ground the rights of the citizen, by violating in substance and in manner, the common rules and principles of justice. A code suggested and framed by fanaticism and error—a want of learning almost general, among the individuals of whom it is composed, accompanied by an omnigenous faculty of committing irregularities—together with the tyrannical oppression with which the innocent man is therein treated, when merely indicted for heresy, are all deducible from the premises established, and come in as incontrovertible arguments to prove the truth of my assertion. Busied rather in forming unhappy victims, than in extirpating crimes, this institution has spared no pains, however contrary to reason, and even to religion, as long as it was able to flatter its pride, and feed its ferocity. Secret accusation and calumny encouraged without any regard to friendship or domestic piety; the name of the Supreme Being invoked with the greatest rashness, in order to wring from the culprit a confession, which must necessarily carry him to the scaffold; mean cavils, perfidious incitements, and even gross falsehood, employed for the same purpose, and with the same iniquity—have all entered into the complicated system of the Inquisition, and constituted its chief essence and delight. Impervious prisons, secured with double bolts, and secluded from all communication; refined and overwhelming torments authorized, and even administered with unheard of cruelty, by judges, who call themselves