He is sore bested, and begins "to confess himself to priests," for a man must do something in his extremity. It avails him not; he is at last in the gripe of the holy Inquisition at Rome, "in the year of our Lord, 1789, December 29," and must match himself with a power which this world knows something of: face to face, hand to hand, at last. Have they juggles equal to his juggles, miracles equal to his--high science equal to his--legions of angels equal to his?--enough that they have dungeons, and sbirri--and in his case, hearts harder than the nether mill-stone--not to be softened "by demands for religious books"--assertions of the divinity of the Egyptian Masonry--promises of wonderful revelations--oaths, flatteries, or any of the mystic paraphernalia of the now powerless professor and prophet: they will not let him out! but rather will introduce him to a new art, that of becoming a Christian, and get him, the toughest in a tough time, into heaven as they best can. Did they find Loyola's twenty days sufficient, and was the article then turned out of hand complete for that other state? The Inquisition biographer does not dwell upon this, it was perhaps as well. We learn at last that he died in the year 1795, and went, the writer says, "_Whither_ no man knows!" So ended a Magician! NEW HAVEN, Feb., 1852. FOOTNOTES: [1] T. Carlyle. BITTER WORDS. WRITTEN FOR THE INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE, BY R. H. STODDARD. Bitter words are easy spoken; Not so easily forgot; Hearts it may be can be broken-- Mine cannot! When thou lovest me I adore thee; Hating, I can hate thee too; But I will not bow before thee-- Will not sue! Even now, without endeavor, Thou hast wounded so my pride, I could leave thee, and for ever-- Though I died! THE MURDER OF LATOUR. WRITTEN FOR THE INTERNATIONAL MONTHLY MAGAZINE, BY HON. W. H. STILES.[2]