No modern European nation has endured such vicissitudes of good and evil fortune as the Spanish. From the virtual anarchy of the Castilian kingdoms under Juan II and Enrique IV, the resolute wills of Ferdinand and Isabella evoked order and, by the union with Aragon, the conquest of Granada, Naples and Navarre and the acquisition of the New World, they left Spain in a most commanding position. When, under Charles V, to this were added the Netherlands, the Austrian possessions, Milan and the headship of the Holy Roman Empire, the hegemony of Europe was secured, and the prospect of attaining the universal monarchy seemed sufficiently possible to arouse the fears of Europe. The loss of the Empire and of Austria, awarded to the younger branch of the Hapsburgs, strengthened rather than weakened the inheritance of Philip II, by rendering it less cumbrous and unwieldy, while the acquisition of Portugal unified the Peninsula and the increasing wealth of the Indies promised almost unlimited resources for the extension of his power. Yet this power, so colossal in outward seeming, was already becoming a mere shell, covering emptiness and poverty, for its rulers had exhausted the nation in enterprises beyond its strength and foreign to its interests. Throughout the seventeenth century its downward progress was rapid until, at the death of Carlos II, in 1700, it had reached a depth of misery and helplessness in which it might almost despair of recuperation. Yet its efforts, in the War of Succession, showed that it still possessed a virile nationality; its decadence was arrested, and a slow upward progress was begun, accelerated under the enlightened rule of Carlos III, until, at his death in 1788, it had so far regained its position that, if not yet a power of the first rank, it might not unhopefully look forward to attaining that position. Then followed the weak and disastrous reign of Carlos IV, under the guidance of Godoy, when impotence invited the intrusion of Napoleon, resulting in the manifestation of national energy, which surprised the world in the heroic War of Liberation. After the  Restoration in 1814, the land was, for more than half a century the scene of almost unintermitterit conflict between antagonistic forces, resulting in the apathy of exhaustion after attaining the form of democratic constitutional monarchy. Yet we are told that absolute monarchy has merely been replaced by absolute Caciquismo or, in American parlance, the rule of the political "boss." (1) Government, it seems, is exploited purely for the private interest of the office-holding class and the strength of the nation has been wasted, its development has been neglected, until the unexpected feebleness revealed in the war of 1898 led earnest patriots to declare that, if the existing maladministration were to continue, it would be better to seek shelter under England or France, and to put an end to the history of Spain as an independent nation. (2) This shock to the national consciousness, and the skilful and vigorous agitation to which it gave birth, bear promise of results in the political as well as in the material and industrial development of the land, and we may reasonably hope that a nation, which has suffered so much with fortitude, is entering upon a new career that may make amends for the miseries of the past.
Vicissitudes such as these have their causes, and we cannot conclude
this long history of the Inquisition without inquiring what share it and
the spirit, which at once created and was stimulated by it, contributed
to the misfortunes endured, with few intermissions, by the Spanish people
since its organization. These causes are numerous, many of them not directly
connected with our subject, but yet to be enumerated in order that undue
importance may not be ascribed to the influence of the Inquisition.
To begin with, the Spanish monarchy developed into a pure despotism, based on the maxim of the Institutes--quod principi placuit legis habet vigorem--the prince's pleasure has the force of law. All legislative and executive functions were concentrated  in the crown; the king issued laws, levied taxes, raised troops, declared war, made peace at his will, and the execution of the Justicia Lanuza, in 1591, without a trial, shows that the lives of his subjects were at his disposal. It was the same with their liberties, as illustrated by the imprisonment, without a hearing, of ministers like Cabarrús, Floridablanca, Jovellanos and Urquijo. For awhile the ancient fueros of the kingdoms of the crown of Aragon served as some restraint in those territories, but Philip V, in 1707 and 1714, took advantage of the War of Succession to declare them forfeited. Under such concentration of authority, the fate of the nation depended on the character and capacity of the monarch. Charles V had unquestioned ability, but his ambitious enterprises, while flattering to the national vanity, not only exhausted the resources of Spain, in quarrels foreign to its interests, but crippled its prosperity by the reckless devices employed to supply his needs. Philip II was a man of very moderate talents, irresolute and procrastinating to that degree that the Venetian envoy Vendramino, in 1595, declared that what would cost another prince ten ducats cost him a hundred, in consequence of his dilatoriness. (3) His enormous and disjointed empire was too much for his narrow intelligence, and his vast expenditures in defence of Latin Christianity consumed all his resources and kept him in perpetual financial straits. At his death, in 1598, he had nothing to show for the ruin of his country but the gloomy pile of the Escorial and the acquisition of Portugal. Holland was hopelessly lost; his rival, Henry IV, was firmly seated on the throne of a reunited France, and the papacy was alienated. The internal condition of the land is depicted in the despairing complaints of the Córtes of 1594--"The truth, which cannot be questioned, is that the kingdom is totally exhausted. Scarce any man has money or credit, and those who have it do not employ it in trade or for profit, but hoard it to live as sparingly as possible, in hope that it may last them to the end. Thus comes the universal poverty of all classes... .There is not a city or a town but has lost largely in population, as is seen by the multitude of closed and empty houses, and the fall in the rents of the few that are inhabited." (4)
With Philip III we commence the long line of favorites who  dominated Spain during the seventeenth century. Well meaning, but weak and incapable, he left everything to the Duke of Lerma, under whose guidance a reckless course of prodigality was followed as though the only trouble was to get rid of surplus revenues. Charles V had cast aside the severe simplicity of the old Castilian court for the stately magnificence of the Burgundian household; his successors followed his example, in spite of the remonstrances of the Córtes, but where Philip II spent on it four hundred thousand ducats a year, Philip III lavished a million and three hundred thousand, while he was begging money of his nobles and prelates and seeking to seize all the plate in the kingdom in order to coin it. He was not alone in this, for the nobility and gentry were consumed with usury and overwhelmed with debt, owing to their extravagance. The Venetian envoy Contarini, in 1605 describes the land as overspread with poverty and general discontent and all the evils attendant upon a corrupt and vicious government, under an indolent king and a rapacious and incapable minister. The worst war, he concludes, that could be made on Spain was to allow it to consume itself in peace under misgovernment, while to attack it would be to arouse the dogged determination of the people. The reports of the Lucchese envoys tell the same story. (5) Such was the condition when the expulsion of the Moriscos robbed the land of its most productive class.
Matters grew worse when Philip IV ascended the throne, in 1621. Good-natured, affable, indolent and pleasure-loving, his thirty-one unacknowledged natural children, besides the acknowledged one--the second Don John of Austria--serve to explain why he abandoned the cares of state to his favorite, the Count-Duke Olivares, after whose fall in 1643 his nephew, Don Luis de Haro, succeeded to the post. The official historiographer describes Spain, at his accession, as being in extremity, and the people crushed under their burdens; everything was in disorder, and the condition of the nation so weakened that it could only be deplored and not amended. Yet Philip's first act was to break the truce with Holland and, from that time to the end of his long reign, he was involved in almost continual war. He called together the Córtes and asked for supplies to which they replied by petitioning him to try to stop the general depopulation and  find occupation for the people, who were wandering with their families over the country in vain search for work. (6) Yet Philip, engrossed with his plebeian amours and the pleasures of his court, continued his wars and his extravagance, without giving thought to the misery of his people whom he was crushing with ever new exactions. The courtly festivities were conducted with a magnificence till then unexampled; the carnival festival of 1637 was officially admitted to cost three hundred thousand ducats and was popularly estimated at half a million. (7) In 1658 the Venetian envoy reports his giving to the son of Don Luis de Haro fifty thousand pesos for skilfully arranging a ballet for the ladies of the court. Every bull-fight cost him sixty thousand reales, and the celebration at the birth of Prince Prosper (who speedily died) involved an expenditure of eight hundred thousand pesos. All this, as the envoy remarks, was extracted from the blood of the miserable people, who were poorer in Spain than anywhere else. The immense resources of the kingdom were absorbed by the rapacity of the ministers or were dissipated by the profuseness of the king. (8)
In 1665, Carlos II, then but four years of age, succeeded to his father, under the regency of the Queen-dowager Maria Ana of Austria. We have seen how she abandoned affairs to her confessor, the Jesuit Nithard, and when he was dismissed by the efforts of Don John of Austria, in 1669, she replaced him with the worthless favorite Fernando de Valenzuela. Again Don John was called in; Valenzuela was exiled to the Philippines and Don John assumed the reins of government. His limited abilities were unequal to the task; he was driven from power and died soon afterwards in 1679. Carlos had been declared of age in 1675; he was utterly incapable and, though he can scarce be said to have had favorites, under such ministers as the Duke of Medinaceli and the Count of Oropesa, Spain sank deeper in misery and degradation until his death in 1700. The kingdom was reduced to the last extremity, without money, without industry, without means of defence to resist the aggressive wars of Louis XIV, or to defend the colonies from the ravages of buccaneers. The population is said to have shrunk to 5,000,000; in 1586 it had been estimated  at 8,000,000 by the Venetian envoy Gradenigo. (9) Such was the result of two centuries of absolute government, under monarchs not wilfully evil, who merely reigned according to the light vouchsafed them.
Yet it was not so much the extravagance of the court, or the perpetual wars of the Hapsburgs, or the emigration to the colonies, that reduced the population and the power of Spain. The land could have endured all these if its rich resources and vast opportunities had been wisely developed. Lying between two seas and holding Sicily and Naples, it commanded the Atlantic and the Mediterranean; with its wealthy colonies, the source of the precious metals which revolutionized the finances of Europe and furnished the basis for the most profitable commerce that the world had seen, it was invited to become the greatest of maritime states, with a navy and a mercantile marine beyond rivalry, dominating the seas as the Catalans had dominated the Mediterranean in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. It was largely secured from hostile aggression by the Pyrenees, and could work out its destinies with little to fear from external enemies. It is true that much of its surface is mountainous, and that large districts suffer from insufficient precipitation, but the Moors had shown what wonders could be wrought by irrigation, and how, by patient labor, even mountain sides could be made to yield their increase. No land could boast a greater variety of agricultural products, including those of semi-tropical and temperate zones which, combined with mineral wealth, should have rendered it self-supporting. All that was needed was steady and intelligent industry, fostered by wise legislation, encouraging production and commerce, and enabling every man to work out his own career with as few artificial impediments as possible, and Spain might be today what she was in the sixteenth century, the leader among civilized nations.
This was not to be. The fatal gift of the Burgundian inheritance distracted the attention of her rulers from the true arena of her expansion in Africa and on the ocean, to distant enterprises wholly foreign to her true interests, while the undeviating determination to enforce unity of faith at home, and to combat heresy elsewhere, led her to drive out her most useful population, and involved her in ruinous expenditures abroad. To extort the means for the furtherance of this policy, industry was strangled with the most  burdensome and complicated system of taxation that human folly could devise, the weight of which fell almost exclusively on the oppressed producing classes, who were least able to endure it, while the nobles and gentry and clergy, who held by far the larger portion of Spanish wealth, were exempt. (10) As taxation was virtually at the discretion of the monarch, imposts were added as the exigencies of extravagance demanded, usually with little thought as to their consequences, until the taxpayer was entangled in a network which crippled him at every step. This moreover was accompanied with regulations to prevent evasions, and to protect the consumer at the expense of the producer, which greatly enhanced the deadly influence of the anomalous and incongruous accumulation of exactions.
All this fell with peculiar weight on agriculture and on the labradores or peasants, on whom ultimately the support and prosperity of the nation depended. When, in 1619, the Royal Council, in obedience to the commands of Philip III, presented an elaborate consulta on the causes of depopulation, it commenced by ascribing this to the grinding and insupportable taxation of the producing taxables, and the exemption of the consuming classes--the mules and cart of the peasant were seized for taxes, he was driven from the land and hid himself in the large cities, or sought a livelihood abroad. (11) The warning was unheeded and, ten years later, Fray Benito de Penalosa y Mondragon, while enthusiastically extolling the power and wealth of Spain, describes the condition of the labradores as the poorest, most completely miserable and depressed of all, as though all the other classes had combined and conspired  to ruin and destroy them. Their cabins and huts of mud walls are decaying and crumbling, they possess some badly cultivated lands and lean cattle, always hungry for lack of the common pasture, and they are burdened with tributes, mortgages, taxes, censos and many impositions, demands and almsgivings that cannot be escaped. In place of wondering at the depopulation of villages and farms, the wonder is that any remain. Probably most of those who go to the Colonies are labradores and they also flock to the cities, engaging in all kinds of service. (12)
The process went on without interruption. A century later an experienced financial official tells the same story, in a report to Philip V. The burden of taxation fell upon the poor; all that was unpaid was added to the levy of the succeeding year; a horde of blood-suckers lived by selling out delinquents, when the costs amounted to more than the taxes. Consequently the poor were obliged to sell their property to meet the demands of the tax-gatherer, or to let it be seized and sold, thus becoming beggars and tramps, and every year saw their numbers increase. The peasant, moreover, was subject to special and ruinous restrictions. The tassa or price of his grain was officially determined every year, at a maximum above which he was forbidden to sell it; moreover it could not be exported, nor could it be transported by sea from one province to another to prevent infractions of the prohibition. The result of this was that if the harvest was deficient, grain was secreted and held at exorbitant prices and this infraction of the law was winked at under necessity. The sufferer was the peasant, who had not the means of storing his grain but had to sell it to the wealthy who could withhold it, and thus, whether the harvests were abundant or scanty he fared ill. Thus production was discouraged and diminishing; the producer realized little, while the consumer paid extravagantly, checking both production and consumption. Lands were left uncultivated and labor was unemployed; everything moved in a vicious circle, and the evil was constantly growing. Trade was similarly strangled. The alcavala of 10 per cent, and the cientos of 4 per cent, were levied on every transaction, no matter how often an article changed hands. Manufactures, under this system, had almost disappeared. Spaniards were forced to sell their raw products to foreigners at low prices, for  there were no other buyers, and to purchase them back in their finished state at the sellers' prices. The heavy tariff increased the cost to the consumer, while innumerable smugglers enabled the importers to realize the benefit of the duties. The foreigner, moreover, secured all the precious metals of the Indies, for all exports thither were of foreign goods, with which Spaniards could not compete, owing to the excessive imposts and tributes, which doubled the price of everything to the consumer. Yet of the product of these crushing burdens but little reached the treasury, owing to the system of collection, smuggling, and frauds. (13)
The disabilities thus imposed on agriculture, industry, and trade were greatly aggravated by the absence of means of intercommunication, and it is symptomatic of Spanish policy that the energies of the rulers were concentrated on the suppression of heresy, foreign wars and court festivities to the exclusion of care for internal development. It is true that, under Charles V and Philip II, considerable effort was spent on the water-ways; the Canal Imperial de Aragon was built along the Ebro, as well as the smaller canals of Jarama and Manzanares, and there were improvements in the navigation of the Tagus and Guadalquivir, but these ceased and no attention was paid to the roads which, for the most part were mere caminos de herradura, or mule-tracks. Even as late as 1795, Jovellanos tells us that there was no communication by wagon between the contiguous provinces of Leon and Asturias, so that the wines and wheat of Castile could not bear the expense of mule carriage to the seaboard. In 1761 Carlos III undertook to construct highways from Madrid to Andalusia, Valencia, Catalonia, Galicia, Old Castile, Asturias, Murcia and Extremadura, but in 1795 none of them had reached half-way, and no attention was paid to interprovincial wagon-roads, to enable the  miserable peasant to get from village to village, or from market to market, save at the cost of exhausting his cattle and at the risk of losing everything in a mudhole. (14)
Another intolerable burden on agriculture was the Mesta, or combination of owners of the immense flocks of sheep, which wintered in the lowlands and summered in the mountains. Through privileges dating from the fourteenth century and gradually increased, the provinces, through which the trashumantes or migratory flocks passed, were subjected to serious disabilities. Pasturage could not be broken up for cultivation, its rental was fixed by an unalterable tassa, and a mesteño tenant could not be evicted. All enclosures were forbidden in order that the flocks when migrating might feed without payment on the stubble in the autumn and on the fallow land in the spring, although this privilege was somewhat curtailed in 1788 by permitting the enclosure of orchards, vineyards and plantations. Thus the husbandman was deprived of control over his property and the raising of horses and of stationary herds of cattle and sheep-- vastly more important than the trashumantes--was effectually discouraged within the range of the Mesta. Equally short-sighted were the forestry laws, designed to foster the production of lumber, which was greatly needed both for building and shipping. The owner was obliged to get and pay for a permit before he could fell a tree, to obey fixed rules as to pruning, to sell against his will and at a fixed price, to admit inspections and official visits, and to answer for the condition and number of his trees--thus opening the door to unlimited extortion. In short, the freedom of action through which men seek their interests, and thus contribute to the general welfare, was destroyed by the paternalism of an absolute government, which blindly hampered all improvement and checked all individual initiative and ambition. (15)
 This explains the despoblados and baldíos--the depopulated villages and uncultivated lands--which were the despair of the statesmen who discussed the possible regeneration of Spain. According to Zavala, in the circumscription of Badajoz alone, the baldíos amounted to over three hundred square leagues, mostly good farm land, in which the remains of buildings could be traced, but then grown up in copses and thickets, affording refuge to wolves, smugglers and robbers. In Andalusia, Jovellanos tells us that these baldíos were immense; they were less in Extremadura, La Mancha and the two Castiles, while, in the northern provinces, from the Pyrenees to Portugal, the population was denser and the baldíos less frequent and of inferior quality. (16) We have seen the attempt made by Carlos III to reclaim these districts with the nuevas poblaciones, and how the promising experiment was checked by the Inquisition.
As though these blind and irrational policies were insufficient to destroy
prosperity, an equally efficient factor was devised in tampering with the
coinage. This began tentatively in 1566 by Philip II, in diminishing the
alloy of silver in the vellon or copper coinage. In 1602, Philip III, in
his financial distress, was bolder and resolutely issued a pure copper
coinage with a fictitious value of seven to two, calling forth the protest
of Padre Mariana which cost him his prosecution by the Inquisition. In
1605 the Lucchese envoy informs us that the treasury had already reaped
a profit of 25,000,000 ducats by this fiat money, of which the marc cost
80 maravedís and had a forced circulation of 280. This was the first
of a long series of violent measures continued throughout the seventeenth
century, of alternate expansion and contraction. Thus, in 1642 the fictitious
legal-tender value was suddenly reduced to one-sixth, followed in 1643
by raising it fourfold, and in 1651 by increasing it still further. In
1652 an attempt was made to demonetize the vellon, June 25th, which was
abandoned November 14th. In 1659 the vellon grueso was reduced in
value one-half and, in 1660 it was trebled. Attempts were made to regulate
prices by decrees of maxima and to prevent or define the inevitable
premium on gold and silver, but the unwritten laws of trade were imperative,
until at last, in 1718, the real de plata was admitted to be worth
twice the real de vellon, a ratio which remained nearly permanent.
The largest vellon coin was the cuartillo, or fourth of a real,
 equivalent to about three cents of American money, which became
the standard of value in Spanish trade; the coins were tied in bags of
definite amount and these passed from hand to hand, for the precious metals
necessarily disappeared, and were rarely seen except in Seville, in spite
of the most savage decrees against their exportation.
(17) It would be impossible to exaggerate the disastrous influence
on industry and commerce of these perpetual fluctuations of the circulating
medium. The relations between debtor and creditor, between producer and
consumer, were ever at the mercy of some new decree that might upset all
calculations. All transactions, from the purchase of a day's supply of
bread to a contract for a cargo of merchandise were mere gambling speculations.
These causes of decadence were accentuated by an aversion and contempt for labor, which was recognized as a Spanish characteristic, attributable perhaps to the long war of the Reconquest and the endless civil broils which rendered arms the only fitting career for a Spaniard, and accustomed him to see all useful work performed by those whom he regarded as belonging to inferior races-- Jews and Mudéjares. Their expulsion was destructive to all industrial pursuits, but the Old Christian still looked down on the descendants of the Conversos who were to a large extent debarred, by the statutes of Limpieza, from the Spanish resource of living without labor by entering the Church or holding office. The evil effects of this were intensified by constitutional indolence. The Spanish Conquistadores gave memorable examples of indefatigable energy and hardihood, sparing no toil when their imaginations were inflamed with the lust of conquest or the hopes of gold, but they would not work as colonists. One of them, Bernardo de Vargas Machuca, who for thirty years was Governor of Margarita, defends the enslavement of the Indians by candidly saying that Spaniards would not settle on unoccupied land, no matter how healthy or how rich in gold and silver, but would go where there were Indians, even if the land were sterile and unhealthy for, if they had not Indians to work for them, they could not enjoy its products, and its possession would be no benefit. (18) Nor were the Spaniards of whom he speaks gentlemen  adventurers, but were mostly drawn from the humbler classes. It was the same at home. Already, in 1512, Guicciardini, who spent two years in Spain as envoy from Florence, describes Spain as a land rich in natural resources, but sparsely populated and largely undeveloped. The people, he says, are warlike and skilled in arms, but they look upon industry and trade with disdain; artisans and husbandmen will work only under pressure of necessity and then rest in idleness until their earnings are spent. (19) The Córtes of Valladolid, in 1548, complain that agricultural laborers and mechanics would not come to work before 10 or 11 o'clock, and would break off an hour or two before sunset. A century later, Dormer, the historiographer of Aragon, reproves the indolence of the people, except in Catalonia, for they would not work as was customary in other lands, but only a few hours a day, with perhaps frequent intermissions, and they expected this to provide for them as fully as the incessant labor of other lands. (20)
Spanish indolence was a frequent theme with the Venetian envoys who describe Spain as abounding in resources, and able to supply all its needs, but dependent upon foreign nations in consequence of the rooted dislike for labor. As Gianfrancesco Morosini writes, in 1581, the people have little aptitude for any of the mechanic arts, and are most negligent in agriculture, while in manual labor they are so slow and lazy that what anywhere else would be done in a month, here takes four. (21) The Lucchese envoys, in the next century, tell the same story. There are few Spaniards, they say, except office-holders, who will work; the greater part of the workmen are foreigners, who have made a new Spain, to the great detriment of the old kingdoms. This explains why Spain is only a port through which the precious metals pass; the Spaniards consume only foreign merchandise imported by foreign merchants; among the contractors there is not a single Castilian, and there are more pieces of eight in China than in Spain. (22) So, in 1687, Luis de Salazar y Castro attributes the decline of the monarchy to its substance flowing out through every pore, and the ultimate cause of this is the lack of energy. " I say it is our indolence, ignorance and want of application... .we attribute  to deficient population what is laziness and sloth. Could our torpidity go further than our requiring Frenchmen to makes tiles, to grind knives, to carry water and to knead bread?" (23) A moralist of the period is excessively severe upon this indolence coupled with reckless extravagance, which he compares with the tireless industry and thrift of the Frenchman. (24) To this he attributes the poverty of Spain, as we have seen (Vol. III, p. 390) had been done, in 1594, by Francisco de Idiaquez, the secretary of Philip II.
One development of this indisposition to labor is touched upon by the consulta of the Royal Council in 1619, when it alludes to the multiplication of grammar-schools, to which the peasants send their children for a smattering of education, and thus withdraw them from productive industry. (25) The Córtes of the same year asked for restrictions on this and Navarrete, in his commentary on the consulta, dwells at some length on the evils thence arising, for the sons of peasants flock thither, to gain the exemptions of the learned classes; an infinite number of them fail to reach the priesthood, becoming beggars and vagrants and criminals, while many of those who enter orders are forced to dishonorable practices, the public suffering in consequence from the lack of laborers and artisans. (26) Protests were in vain and, in 1753, Gregorio Mayans y Siscar still called attention to the crowds of half-educated students who sponged on the community--drones who sucked the honey while they might be of service in driving a plough or handling a musket--a complaint echoed with still greater vigor by Jovellanos in 1795. (27)
To this tendency may be attributed the frenzied rush for office, to which the suggestive name of empleomanía has been given, burdening the State with a vast superfluity of employees and depriving it of their services in useful production. In 1674 the Lucchese  envoy wonders at the revenues, estimated at seventy-five millions, without apparent result, which he ascribes partly to the waste in collecting, the collectors employed numbering two hundred thousand--a manifest exaggeration, but yet suggestive. (28) About 1740, Macanaz ranks this as the first in his enumeration of the causes of Spain's condition; there are, he says, a thousand employees where forty would suffice, if they were kept at work, and the rest could be set at some useful labor. (29) The evil still continues, if we may believe modem writers who regard it as one of the serious impediments to prosperity. (30)
From the depth of poverty, disorder and humiliation to which Spain had fallen, the process of recuperation under the Bourbons was slow and at first vacillating. Something was accomplished by Philip V, in spite of his continual wars and his melancholy madness, when he had rid himself of such adventurers as Alberoni and Ripperda and gave scope to the practical genius of Patiño. (31) The upward impulse continued under Fernando VII, while, under Carlos III and his enlightened ministers the progress was rapid. A memorial addressed by Floridablanca to the king, towards the close of his reign, enumerates the reforms and works of utility undertaken during his ministry. There were canals, both for navigation and irrigation, the drainage of marsh lands, the establishment of the nuevas poblaciones, the improvement of roads. The trade to the colonies was thrown open to all the ports instead of being restricted to Seville, with the result that the exports quickly trebled and the customs revenue doubled. The Banco Nacional was founded and the public credit, which had fallen very low, was speedily restored. Insurance companies were established and other trading associations, which gave life to industry and commerce. The tariff on imports was rendered uniform at all the ports, and its schedules were arranged so as to foster internal development, being light on machinery and raw materials and heavy on articles produced in Spain, not only stimulating industry to the great prosperity of the land, but  increasing the customs revenue to a hundred and thirty millions when it had previously never exceeded thirty millions in the most prosperous years. The complicated and burdensome Rentas Provinciates were regulated so as to fall equally on the various provinces and to be easily borne; the Millones were reduced one-half; the formalities of the alcavala were simplified and its percentage greatly reduced, so as to bear lightly on industry, and with the expectation of its abrogation. The numbers of the exempts were diminished. All the mechanic arts were " habilitated," so that nobles engaging in them should not forfeit their nobility, thus taking away the excuse for idleness and vice of those who called themselves noble and refused to work, however poor they might be. Through this policy during the reign of Carlos III, the population of Peninsular Spain increased by a million and a half and, under his guidance it emerged from the Middle Ages and began to take position with modern nations. (32)
Much as had thus been accomplished, much remained to do, as set forth, in 1795, by Jovellanos in his celebrated "Informe." Unfortunately progress was arrested by the indolent Carlos IV and his favorite Godoy. Then came the Napoleonic wars, and the course of events, as traced in the preceding chapter, was not conducive to improvement. Yet, in all the vicissitudes which Spain has endured since then, if we may trust the growth of population as an index of advancement, the substitution of liberal institutions for absolutism has proved a success and, however real may be the abuses of which the reforming element complains, the present situation is vastly better than the past. The census of 1768 showed a total of 9,309,804; that of 1787, 10,409,879; that of 1799, something over 12,000,000. Then there was a falling off and, in 1822, it was 11,661,980. Yet, in spite of Carlist wars and political troubles, in 1885, it had risen to 17,228,776, and it is now reckoned at 19,000,000 or about double that of the period of Spanish greatness. The fair inference from this is that Spain has a future; that, while much remains to do, much has been accomplished, and that there is progress which, if continued, will restore in great measure her ancient strength, although the enormous growth of modern nations precludes the expectation that she can resume her commanding position.
 In addition to these secular causes of Spanish decadence, there remains to be considered another class of no less importance-- those arising from clericalism, or the relations of the Church to the State, and its influence on the popular character and tendencies.
The accumulation of lands and wealth by the Church, and especially by the religious Orders, was, from an early time, a source of concern to statesmen and of complaint by the people, for the exemption from the royal jurisdiction, from military service and from taxation, claimed as imprescriptible rights by the Church, weakened the power of the State and threw increased burdens upon the population. Almost all the European nations endeavored to curb this acquisitiveness by laws of which the English Statutes of Mortmain and the French droits d'amortissement may be taken as examples. These acquisitions came from two sources, each abundantly productive--gifts or bequests and purchase. The sinner, unable to redeem in money the canonical penance for his sins impossible to perform, would make over a piece of land and obtain absolution or, if on his death-bed, would bequeath a portion of his estate to be expended in masses for his soul--perhaps founding a capellanía for that purpose, or as provision for a son who would serve as chaplain. So audacious became the demands of the Church on the estates of the dying that, in 1348, the Córtes of Alcalá complained that all the Orders obtained from the royal chancery letters empowering them to examine all testaments, whereupon they claimed all bequests made to uncertain places or persons; also, if there was not a bequest for each Order, those omitted demanded one equal to the largest in the will and they further claimed the whole estates of those who died intestate. If these demands were contested, they wearied the heirs with litigation into a compromise. Alfonso promised to revoke all such letters but the Black Death, which speedily followed, brought an immense accretion of lands for the foundation of anniversaries and chaplaincies, which led to lively reclamations by the Córtes of Valladolid, in 1351. (33)
With wealth thus constantly accumulating, the church or monastery would purchase lands from the laity, and as these became exempt from taxation it could afford to pay more than a secular purchaser. Whatever thus passed into ecclesiastical possession was never alienated; it remained in the grip of the  Dead Hand which, by constant accretions, came to hold a large portion of the most desirable lands and thus of the wealth of the kingdom.
It would be tedious to recapitulate the complaints of the Córtes and the devices attempted by legislation from the eleventh century onward to check this growth, which was regarded as threatening the most serious evils to the nation. (34) Laws were adopted only to be evaded or forgotten, and the process went on. A new element, however, was injected into the struggle when, in 1438, the Córtes of Madrigal made a vigorous representation to Juan II that, if no remedy were applied, all the best lands in the kingdom would belong to the Church, resulting in manifold injury to the people and the crown, to which the feeble king evasively replied that he would apply to the pope. (35) Hitherto Spanish independence of the papacy had regarded all such questions as subject to national regulation, but this utterance indicated that papal confirmation was beginning to be recognized as necessary in everything that affected the Church. This was not at once admitted, for Juan, in 1447, in response to the Córtes of Valladolid, and by a decree of 1452, imposed a tax of twenty per cent, on all purchases, bequests and donations, (36) but it gradually established itself and furnished a ready answer to the vigorous representations which, with growing insistence, the Córtes of the sixteenth century made in 1515, 1518, 1523, 1528, 1532, 1534, 1537, 1538, 1542, 1544, 1551 and 1573. (37) This put all remedy out of the question, for no pope could be expected to set limits to ecclesiastical wealth and influence, from which the curia derived its revenues; and the petitions of the Córtes served only to emphasize the magnitude of the evil and its universal recognition by the people.
It was not only the progressive absorption of wealth and land that was detrimental but the corresponding increase in the numbers of the clergy, regular and secular, who were released from all the duties of the citizen, and whose vows of celibacy aided in accelerating the diminution of the population. The process continued with added vigor, especially after the commencement of the  seventeenth century, owing partly to a wave of religious fervor which led to the founding of chapels and convents on a greater scale than ever, and partly to the growing destitution forcing men to seek conventual refuge, where they might at least escape starvation, and inducing parents to give their sons such smattering of education as might enable them to take orders and have at least a chance to secure a livelihood free from the crushing burdens of taxation. The result of this is seen in Fray Bleda's boast, in 1618, that one-fourth of the Christians of Spain were priests, frailes or nuns, and, even though this is obviously an over-estimate, it indicates how great was the task imposed on the producing classes to support in idleness so large a portion of the population. (38) The increase was largely in the Mendicant Orders, whose systematic begging, that no one dared refuse, was a grievous addition to the tithes and first fruits.
A single instance will illustrate this inordinate growth. Cardinal Mendoza, Archbishop of Toledo, the "third king" under Ferdinand and Isabella, stubbornly refused to allow convents to be founded in his province, saying that there were already many that were injurious to the people obliged to sustain them, but this ceased with his death in 1495. His biographer, Doctor Pedro de Salazar, penitentiary of the cathedral, tells us that the city of Toledo held a privilege from Alfonso X prohibiting the erection of convents there. At that time there were six, but in 1625, when he wrote, these had been enlarged and numerous others had been founded, so that they then occupied more than fifty royal and noble houses and more than six hundred smaller ones. The disastrous influence of this on the prosperity of the place is self-evident and Salazar regards this portentous development of ecclesiasticism as the chief cause of the decline in the population of Spain, which he estimates at twenty-five per cent. (39)
The consulta of the Council of Castile, in 1619, naturally included in its enumeration of the causes of national distress the foundation of so many religious houses, which were filled with those attracted, not by vocation but by a life of idleness, while their lands were exempt from taxation. (40) In a similar mood, the Córtes, assembled by Philip IV on his accession, made a forcible and somewhat  rhetorical representation, asking for measures to restrain the multiplication of foundations and the purchases of land, which not only diminished the alcavalas but, in a few years, would exempt all real estate from the royal jurisdiction and accumulate all taxation on the miserable poor, thus destroying the population of the provinces, for it was evident that) if the clergy continued to increase as it was doing, the villages would be without inhabitants, the fields without laborers, the sea without mariners and the arts without craftsmen; commerce would be extinct and, marriage being despised, the world would not last for a century. (41)
At the earnest request of the kingdom, which represented that it could not support these idle multitudes or furnish soldiers for war, Urban VIII, in 1634, granted a bull reforming the religious Orders and suppressing some of the Barefooted ones, but the opposing influences were too strong and it was ineffective. (42) In 1677 the matter was again debated, including the excessive numbers of the secular clergy, but action was postponed until there was a better prospect of results. The recognized evils were too serious to remain thus pigeon-holed, and an attempt was again made in 1691, the feebleness of which demonstrates how completely the Church dominated the State and could not be reformed without its own consent. The king deplored the multiplication of convents, and the consequent relaxation of discipline, and the pope was to be asked for authority to appoint visitors with full powers. The excessive increase of the secular priesthood, he said, was the cause of numerous disorders, to cure which the pope was to be applied to for faculties enabling bishops and abbots to reduce their numbers, so that all incumbents could live decently. The clergy in minor orders were so numerous that their exemption from the royal jurisdiction and the public burdens was a grievous injury to the laity and the bishops were asked to limit their ordination. The absorption of lands by the Church was an evil which had puzzled the wisest heads in all ages; many states had adopted laws regulating this, but he hesitated to have recourse to such measures until statistics could be gathered, and it could be decided how to reduce the numbers of the secular clergy. (43) In short, the Church was an Old Man of the Sea, strangling the State, which lacked power to rid itself of its oppressor.
 With the advent of the Bourbons there was less tendency to this hopelessness and, in 1713, the plain-spoken Macanaz, in a report to the king, presented a terrible picture of the misery and impoverishment resulting from the overgrown numbers and wealth of the clergy. (44) Yet, short of revolution, effective remedy was impossible, and Philip V contented himself with a decree expressing regret that, without papal assent or a concordat, he could not afford general relief to his vassals. While awaiting this, however, he severely characterized the frauds of confessors in inducing the dying to impoverish their heirs. Such testators were declared not to be of free will, their bequests were invalid and scriveners drawing them were threatened with condign punishment. (45)
Much of this evil would have been averted had the salutary reforms prescribed by the Council of Trent been enforced, (46) but they had been a dead letter, at least in Spain. In 1723, however, Philip induced the Spanish bishops to supplicate Innocent XIII on the subject, resulting in a constitution in which he embodied at great length the Tridentine decrees as to restricting ordinations and the number of religious in convents. (47) It was a tribute to the capacious learning rather than to the consistency of Macanaz that the Regular Orders employed him to draw up a memorial to the king, protesting against the enforcement of the papal decree, in which he lavished praises on them, and argued vigorously against any restriction on numbers beyond the capacity of support. (48) This, however, was but a lawyer's argument for a client and did not prevent him, in memorials to Philip V, about 1740 and to Fernando VI, in 1746, from expressing his true opinions as to the evils which were a main cause of Spanish distress--more than half the land held in mortmain and exempt from public burdens, and the immense number of those who, in place of being good laborers were bad priests, wandering around as beggars to the scandal of religion, while the overgrown religious Orders were useless consumers, living on the rest of the nation. (49)
 In negotiating the Concordat of 1737, Philip obtained with difficulty a concession subjecting to taxation future acquisitions, but it was impossible of enforcement and repeated decrees by him, in 1745, by Fernando VII in 1756 and by Carlos III in 1760 and 1763, only attest the powerlessness of the State when dealing with the Church. In 1795 Godoy dallied with a project of secularizing Church property to meet the expenses of the disastrous war with France, but was obliged to abandon the project and only imposed a tax of fifteen per cent, on new acquisitions. (50) It was inevitable that the Córtes of Cádiz and the constitutional Government of 1820-3 should partially carry out what Spanish publicists for centuries had demanded, and should earn the bitterest clerical hostility.
As a matter of course the wealth of so numerous, powerful and worldly a Church was enormous. As early as 1563 Paolo Tiepolo states that the clergy possessed little less than one half the total revenues of Spain. He rates the income of the Archbishop of Toledo at 150,000 ducats, and in addition the church of Toledo had 300,000. (51) Exemption from public burdens gave ample opportunity of increase and, at the end of the eighteenth century, the archbishop was estimated as enjoying an income of half a million dollars. (52) Navarrete, in 1624 regards as one of the leading causes of the hatred entertained for the Church by the laity, the contrast between its affluence and the general poverty, (53) nor is this unlikely for, during the worst periods of national disaster, the Church seems always to have enjoyed superabundant resources. As its income, other than the produce of its lands, was largely derived from  tithes, it necessarily varied, from year to year, but was always enormous. In 1653, we find Plasencia spoken of as one of the four most lucrative bishoprics in Spain, with an income of 40,000 ducats, but that there were years in which it had been worth 80,000--and this at a time when the State was virtually bankrupt, the currency in frightful disorder, commerce and industry prostrate, and the whole land steeped in poverty. (54) Against this, it is true, must be set the habit of the monarch in calling upon the bishops, as well as on the nobles, for contributions, as we have seen in the case of Valdes; thus Cardinal Quiroga, when Archbishop of Toledo, from 1577 to 1594, is said to have given to Philip II an aggregate of a million and a half of ducats. (55) There were also certain papal grants to the crown on the revenues of the clergy at large, known as the subsidio and the excusado which, in 1573, were reckoned at 575,000 crowns a year and in 1658 at something over two million ducats. (56)
It betrays a consciousness of overgrown wealth that all knowledge of its amount was carefully concealed. In 1741, Benedict XIV granted to Philip V eight per cent, of the revenues of the clergy, regular and secular, for that year. The collection of this in Granada was delegated, with full coercive powers, to the Archdeacon Juan Bautista Simoni who, after Easter 1742, issued an edict requiring all incumbents, within ten days, to render sworn statements of their property and income. This aroused intense excitement. Under one pretext or another all, from the archbishop down, endeavored to escape the revelation of their wealth; there were meetings held and open threats were made of a cessatio a divinis if the measure was insisted on. A compromise was offered of payment of a double servicio, which was assumed to be equivalent to eight per cent., but they refused absolutely to make a return of property and income. Simoni seems to have been sincerely desirous of executing his unpleasant duty with as little friction as possible but, in reporting this repugnance to make sworn statements, he does not hesitate to say that its object was  to prevent the king from learning that about three fourths of all the property in Spain was in the hands of the clergy, secular and regular, and especially of the Carthusians, Jesuits, Geronimites and Dominicans. It proved to be impossible to compel the archbishop to make the return, and finally it was compromised by taking the average of a valuation made during five years of a vacancy, 1728-32, which resulted in estimating the revenues of the see at about 39,000 ducats--evidently an undervaluation, although Granada was reckoned as the poorest of the five Castilian archbishoprics. (57)
All this wealth and splendor was drawn, in its ultimate source, from the labor of the husbandman and the administration of the sacraments, casting a grievous burden on the industry of the land and counting for much in the general impoverishment. When the little development of Protestantism in 1558 excited so much dread, it was assumed as a matter of course that the people would welcome a reform that would bring relief from the burdens of the church establishment. Jovellanos asks what is left of the ancient glory of Castile save the skeletons of its cities, once populous and full of workshops and stores, and now filled with churches, convents and hospitals, which survive the misery that they have caused. (58) So, in 1820, the learned Canon Francisco Martínez Marina, in indicating the measures necessary to restore prosperity, says that the first one is to reduce the wealth of the clergy for the benefit of agriculture and the poor and oppressed peasant, and to abolish forever the unjust and insupportable tribute of the tithe, a tribute unknown to Spain before the twelfth century, a tribute which directly prevents the progress of agriculture and one of those which have inflicted the greatest misery on the husbandman. (59)
 A clergy thus worldly, and so far removed from apostolic poverty, was not apt to be devoted to its duties, or to set an example of morality to its subjects. A project, drawn up by a Spanish bishop, of matters to be urged on the Council of Lateran in 1512, affords a glimpse into the deplorable condition of the Church which was so deeply concerned with the salvation of the Marranos and Moriscos. Few among the laity observed the prescribed fasts and feasts, and even the Easter communion was neglected. The priests were negligent and, even in cathedrals, it was sometimes difficult to have divine service performed. Among the clergy, from bishops to the lower orders, concubinage was universal and shameless, while simony ruled everywhere. (60) The provisions of the Council of Seville in 1512, and of Coria in 1537, indicate the vicious and degraded character of the priesthood and the impossibility of restraining their habitual concubinage. (61) Alphonso de Castro argues that if it were not for the protection of God it would be difficult to preserve religion in view of the unworthiness of the priests and their wickedness. It is known to all, he says, that the contempt felt for them arises first from their excessive numbers, secondly from their ignorance and lastly from their flagitious lives. (62) Archbishop Carranza is emphatic in reproving the negligence of the clerics, who were so indifferent to their duty that they abandoned their churches and might as well be non-existent, in addition to which were their evil and scandalous lives and the abuse of their wealth. (63)
 This is confirmed by Inquisitor-general Valdés who states that when, in 1546, he assumed the archbishopric of Seville, he found the clergy and the dignitaries of his cathedral thoroughly demoralized. They had no shame in their children and grandchildren; their women lived with them openly, as though married, and accompanied them to church, and many of them kept public gaming tables in their houses, which were resorts of disorderly characters. If we may believe him, he resolutely undertook a reform and effected it at great labor and expense, owing to appeals and suits in Rome and in Granada and in the Royal Council and before apostolic judges. Then Francisco de Erasso, a favorite of Charles V, obtained a canonry and joined those who desired to return to their former dissolute life, against which, in 1556, he appeals to Philip II for protection. (64) The lower ranks of the clergy were no better, if we may believe the synod of Orihuela, in 1600, which asserts that their concubinage was the cause of the animosity of the people against them, (65) and we have seen, when treating of Solicitation, how frequent was the advantage taken of the opportunities of the confessional.
There were few prelates as conscientious as Valdés represents himself. Alfonso de Castro attributes the existence of heresy to their negligence; they were so slothful that they paid no attention to their duties; those who did otherwise were so rare that they were like jewels among pebbles. (66) The Venitian envoy, Giovanni Soranzo is less cautious in his utterance, for he describes them as living luxuriously and squandering their revenues on splendid establishments; few of them were without children, in whom they took no shame and for whose advancement they employed every means. (67) At the other end of the scale were the clerks in the lower orders, immersed in secular affairs, who took the tonsure in order to enjoy the protection from justice afforded by the Church. These were the despair of those responsible for public order. Fernando de Aragon, Viceroy of Valencia, complains, August 21, 1544, of the impossibility of enforcing justice owing to the zeal with which the church authorities protected the tonsure, whether right or wrong. The officials of the archbishops, he says, have been debased and ignorant men, whose sole aim has been to save  criminals from the punishment of their crimes. He is encouraged to hope for better things from the appointment as archbishop of San Tomas de Vilanova, and the latter follows, September 8th, with allusions to his own sufferings in consequence of his efforts to remedy this condition, which is an offence to justice and to God and a great damage to the people. (68)
A Church composed of such elements was not fitted to exercise for good the enormous influence which it enjoyed over public affairs, not only in shaping the policy of the kingdom but in directing the national tendencies. The theory was still the medieval one--that the ecclesiastical power is the sun and the royal power the moon, which derives its light from the sun. (69) To its influence, as represented by Torquemada, was due the expulsion of the Jews; by Ximenes, the enforced conversion of the Moors; by Espinosa, the rebellion of Granada; by Juan de Ribera and his fellows, the expulsion of the Moriscos. In the royal councils, which formed a bureaucracy, prelates held leading and often dominant positions, and their subordinates were largely drawn from clerical ranks. In 1602 a proposition to increase the schools of artillery was referred to a junta presided over by the royal confessor, which reported that the expense could not be afforded; the schools came to be under the charge of Jesuits and frailes and speedily dwindled to nothing. (70) The position of royal confessor was one of the highest political importance. Under Charles V he participated in all deliberations and had a preponderating influence. (71) Under Philip II, his confessor Fray Diego de Chaves, played a leading part in the tragedy of Antonio Pérez. Fray Gaspar de Toledo, confessor of Philip III boasted that, whenever he told the king that a thing must be done under pain of mortal sin or that it was sinful, he was obeyed without discussion. (72) The Regent María Ana of Austria was completely under the domination of her confessor Nithard, and the letters to him of Clement XI, on European politics, indicate that he was the real ruler. (73) The substitution of Froilan Díaz for Fray Pedro Matilla,  as confessor of Carlos II, was the only step necessary to effect a revolution in the government and, when Díaz fled to Rome, he was reclaimed as a fugitive chief minister of state. We have seen under Philip V the power wielded by his confessors Daubenton and Robinet, and the part played by Rábago under Fernando VI. What thus ruled the court was perpetually at work in every parish and every family, where the pulpit and the confessional exercised an incalculable influence. What the Spaniard became was what the Church wished him to be. Clericalism thus, for good or for evil, was a leading factor in controlling the destinies of Spain, in exhausting its resources, in moulding the character of its people, and the Inquisition was its crowning work.
Under such influences, the toleration which had been so marked a feature of the medieval period gradually gave place to a fanaticism finding its expression in the Inquisition and inflamed into greater fierceness by the existence and reaction of that institution. There can be no question as to the sincere devoutness of Charles V, according to the unanimous testimony of the Venetian envoys, who describe his punctual discharge of all religious observances and who state that the surest avenue to his favor was the manifestation of earnest zeal for religion. (74) Shortly before his death, he expressed deep regret that he had not executed Luther at Worms, in spite of his pledged safe-conduct, for he ought to have forfeited his word in order to avenge the offence to God. In his will, executed in 1554 at Brussels, he charged Philip II in the most earnest manner to favor in all ways the Inquisition, because of the many and great offences to God which it prevents or punishes and, in the codicil of September 9, 1558, dictated on his deathbed, his first thought is to repeat the injunction and to urge his son, by the obedience due to a father, to prosecute heresy, rigorously, unsparingly and relentlessly. (75) Philip II needed no such exhortations. From his earliest youth he had breathed an atmosphere surcharged by the conflict with heresy; he had been taught that a sovereign's highest duty to God and man was to enforce unity of faith, not only as a paramount religious obligation, but because it was an axiom of the statesmanship of the time that, in no other way, could the peace of a kingdom be preserved. There is no reason to doubt his perfect sincerity when, in 1568, the Archduke  Charles came to Spain, as the representative of the German princes, to urge an accommodation with the Netherlands, and Philip, besides his formal reply, gave the archduke secret instructions to tell the emperor that no human influence, or considerations of state, or all that the whole world could say or do, would make him vary a hair's breadth from the course which he had adopted and intended to pursue in this matter of religion, throughout all his dominions; that he would listen to no advice with regard to it, and would take ill any that might be offered. At the same time he wrote to Chantonnay, his ambassador at Vienna, that what he was doing in the Netherlands was for their advantage and the preservation of the Catholic faith, and that he would make no change in his policy, if it involved risking all his possessions and if the whole world should fall upon his head. So, in 1574, the instructions to the commissioners sent to Breda to confer with the deputies of William the Silent, were to declare emphatically that he would suffer no one to live under his throne who was not completely a Catholic. (76) Philip was merely translating into practice the teachings of the Church and won its unstinted admiration. Cardinal Pallavicini contrasts the vacillating persecution in France with his sanguinary rigor, which was not only grateful to heaven but propitious to his kingdom, thus saved by salutary blood-letting. (77)
It was natural that Philip, in his will, executed March 7, 1594, should reiterate to his son and successor the injunctions which he had received from his father. The Inquisition was to be the object of special favor, even greater than in the past, for the times were perilous and full of so many errors in the faith. (78) Philip III had not energy enough to be an active persecutor and if, under the guidance of Lerma, he expelled the Moriscos, under the same tutelage he made peace with England in 1605 and a truce with Holland in 1609, to the disgust of the pious who could not understand any dealings with heretics. Yet he was a most religious  prince, who spent hours every day in his devotions and in examining his conscience, and who set a shining example by the frequency with which he sought confession and communion. (79)
It was a matter of course that he should, in his will, leave to his successor the customary instructions to foster the Inquisition. As to Philip IV, we have seen abundant instances of his subservience to it, during his half-century of reign, and of his readiness to subordinate to it all other interests. He showed his consistency in this when, at the dictation of the Suprema, he incurred a war with England through his refusal to sign a treaty forbidding the persecution of Englishmen in Spain on account of their religion (80) and, in his will, executed in 1665, he laid the customary injunctions on his successor to aid and favor the Inquisition, adding an exhortation to honor and defend the clergy in all their exemptions and immunities, and earnestly to labor for the reformation of the religious Orders. (81)
Carlos II was a nonentity who need not be considered and, with the Bourbons, we enter on the dawn of a new era, in which fanaticism no longer dominates the policy of the State. It is true that Philip V, when abdicating, in 1724, enjoined on his son Luis the preservation of the faith through the instrumentality of the Inquisition as fervently as any of his predecessors and that, during the first third of the century, there was a fierce recrudescence of inquisitorial acivity, but we have seen how the spirit of the age gradually made itself felt and, although the duty of exterminating heresy was still admitted in theory, in practice its enforcement was greatly mitigated.
It is difficult for us, in the indifferentism of the twentieth century, to realize or to understand the violence of the passions excited by questions of faith, dissociated from all temporal interests, and their influence on a people so emotional as the Spaniards and so apt, as they tell us themselves, to be swayed by imagination rather than by reason. We have seen (Vol. Ill, p. 284) the whole  kingdom of Portugal thrown into excitement by the theft of a pyx with a consecrated host and that only the opportune discovery of the culprit saved all the New Christians from expulsion. It might seem to us a very trivial affair that, on the eve of Good Friday, 1640, there was posted, in the chapter-house of Granada, a placard ridiculing the Christian religion, praising the Mosaic Law, and blaspheming the purity of the Virgin, but it produced the greatest excitement throughout Spain. Special services were held in all the churches to appease the insulted deity and to discover the malefactor. He was detected, in the person of a hermit of the Santa Imagen del Triunfo, who was arrested, and Inquisitor Rodezno deemed it advisable to break the inviolable secrecy of the Inquisition in order to calm the public agitation, by letting the people know that the culprit had been discovered and convicted. Learned doctors improved the occasion by printing dissertations in which it was proved that he must be burnt alive, if no death more atrocious could be invented to suit the crime. (82) The fanatical hatred of heresy per se, thus sedulously inculcated and engrained in the moral fibre of every Spaniard is seen in the statutes of Limpieza, which closed the avenues to distinction to the descendants of Converses and of those who had been penanced by the Inquisition, so that even arrest and imprisonment for a trivial offence inflicted, according to popular prejudice, an indelible stigma on a family. We have seen to what insane extent this was carried and what evil it wrought in the social organization, but more prolific in evil was the habit of thought by which it was engendered and which it intensified.
Yet practically the religion which was so sensitive as to purity of faith was of a very superficial character. External observances were strictly enforced, and the Inquisition was ever on the watch to punish any irreverence in act or word, yet Alfonso de Castro tells us that, in the mountainous provinces, such as Asturias, Galicia and elsewhere, the word of God was so rarely preached to the people that they observed many pagan rites and many superstitions. (83) To labor on Sunday or feast-day was a serious offence, involving suspicion of heresy, yet Carranza says that more offences against God were committed on Sundays than in all the weekdays combined; those who went to mass mostly spent the time in  business or in talking or sleeping; those who did not go, gratified their vanity or their appetites; the ancient Jews used to say that, on their feast-days, the demons left the cities for refuge in the mountain caves, but now it would seem that on week-days the demons avoided the people who were busy with their labors and, on feast-days, came trooping joyfully from the deserts, for then they find the doors open to all kinds of vices. (84)
Paolo Tiepolo, in 1563, observes that, in all external signs of religion,
the Spaniards are exceedingly devout, but he doubts whether the interior
corresponds; the clergy live as they choose, without any one reprehending
them, and he is scandalized by the buffooneries and burlesques performed
in the churches on feast-days. (85) The
churches, in fact, seem to have been places for everything save devotion.
Azpilcueta describes the profane observances during divine service, the
inattention of the priests, the processions of masks and demons, the banquets
and feastings, and other disgraceful profanations, so that there are few
of the faithful who do not sin in church, and few who do not utter idle,
vain, foul, evil or profane words; in hot weather, the coolness of the
churches made them favorite lounging-places for both sexes, including monks
and nuns, and much that was indecent occurred; they were moreover places
for the transaction of business, and more bargaining took place there than
in the markets. (86) This was not a mere
passing custom. A century later Francisco Santos pictures for us a church
crowded with so-called worshippers, where the services could scarce be
heard for the noise; beggars crying for alms and wrangling among themselves;
two men quarrelling fiercely and on the point of drawing their swords;
a group of young gallants chattering and maltreating a poor man 
who had chanced to touch them in passing; people leaving one mass that
had commenced to follow a priest, who had the reputation of greater despatch
in his sacred functions; in a chapel a bevy of fair ladies drinking chocolate,
discussing fashions and waited on by their admirers--all is worldly and
the religious observance is the merest pretext. (87)
This irreverence was shared by the priests. A brief of Urban VIII, January
30, 1642, recites complaints from the dean and chapter of Seville concerning
the use of tobacco in the churches, both in smoking and snuffing, even
by priests while celebrating mass, and of their profanation of the sacred
cloths by using them and staining them with tobacco, wherefore he decrees
excommunication latæ sententiæ for the use of the weed
within the sacred precincts. (88) It is
evident that the Inquisition, while enforcing conformity as to dogma and
outward observance, failed to inspire genuine respect for religion.
It will thus be seen how little really was gained for religion by the spirit of fierce intolerance largely responsible for the material causes of decadence which we have passed rapidly in review. The irrational resolve to enforce unity of faith at every cost spurred Ferdinand and Isabella to burn and pauperize those among their subjects who were most economically valuable, to expel those who could not be reduced to conformity and to institute a system of confiscation of which we have seen the destructive influence on industry and on the credit on which commerce and industry depend, while the application of this to the condemnation of the dead not only brought misery on innocent descendants but unsettled titles and involved all transactions in insecurity. This sanctified the ambition of Charles V with the halo of religion. This was the motive which underlay the suicidal policy of Philip II, leading to the endless wars with the Netherlands, to the rebellion of Granada and to the wasteful support of the Ligue. This was at the bottom of the Morisco disaffection, culminating in the  expulsion of 1610, just after Philip III had practically accepted the loss of Holland by the truce of 1609. The land was robbed of its most industrious classes, it was drained of its bravest soldiers, its trade and productiveness were fatally crippled, and it was reduced to the lowest term of financial exhaustion, all for the greater glory of God, and in the belief that it was avenging offences to God. To meet the exigencies arising from this, and from the thoughtless extravagance of the monarchs, the labor, on which rested the resources of the State, was crushed to earth and subjected to burdens that defeated their own ends, for they drove the producer in despair from the soil. Productive industry and commerce, enfeebled by the expulsions, were so handicapped that they dwindled almost to extinction and passed virtually into the hands of foreigners, who dealt under the mask of testas ferrias-- of Spaniards who lent their names to the real principals, for the most part the very heretics whom Spain had exhausted herself to destroy. Trade and credit were hampered, not only through the vitiation of the currency but through the ever-impending risk of sequestration and confiscation, and the impediments of the censorship as developed in the visitas de namos. The blindness and inefficiency of the Government intensified in every way the evils created by its mistaken policy but, at the root of all, lay the prolonged and relentless determination to enforce conformity, at a time when the industrial and commerical era was opening, which was to bring wealth and power to the nations wise enough and liberal enough to avail themselves of its pportunities -- opportunities which Spain was invited virtually to monopolize through its control of the trade of the Indies and the production of the precious metals. There is melancholy truth in the boast of Doctor Pedro Peralta Barnuevo, in his relation of the Lima auto of 1733, that the determination to enforce unity of faith at all costs had rendered Spain rather a church than a monarchy, and her kings' protectors of the faith rather than sovereigns. She was a temple, in which the altars were cities and the oblations were men, and she despised the prosperity of the State in comparison with devotion to religion. (89)
Isabella and her Hapsburg descendants were but obeying the dictates of conscience and executing the laws of the Church, when they sought to suppress heresy and apostasy by force, and they  might well deem it both duty and good policy at a time when it was universally taught that unity of faith was the surest guarantee of the happiness and prosperity of nations. Spain, with accustomed thoroughness, carried out this theory for three centuries to a reductio ad absurdum, through the Inquisition, organized, armed and equipped to the last point of possible perfection for its work. The elaborate arguments of its latest defender only show that it cannot be defended without also defending the whole policy of the House of Hapsburg, which wrought such misery and degradation. (90) It was the essential part of a system and, as such, it contributed its full share to the ruin of Spain.
That occasionally even an inquisitor could have a glimmer of the truth appears from a very remarkable memorial addressed to Philip IV by a member of the Suprema, with regard to the Portuguese Jews. He states that they consider the rigor of the Inquisition as a blessing, since it drives them from Spain to other lands, where they can enjoy their religion and acquire prosperity. He wishes to prevent this exodus, which is depriving Spain of population and wealth and exposing it to peril, and to win back those who have expatriated themselves, to which end he proposes greatly to soften inquisitorial severity in regard to confiscation, imprisonment and the wearing of the sanbenito, except in the case of hardened impenitents. He would welcome them back and, even if their Catholicism were merely external, he argues that their children would become good Catholics, even as has proved to be the case with the descendants of the Castilian Jews. Indeed, he goes so far as to urge that foreigners in general should be encouraged to bring their capital to Spain, to settle and be naturalized, to marry Spanish wives and thus minister to the wealth and prosperity of the land. (91) The worldly wisdom of this was too oppugnant  to the prejudices of the time, which clamored, as we have seen, for extermination and isolation, and its sagacious counsels were unheeded. The Judaizers were driven forth, to aid in building up Holland with their wealth and intelligence, and Spain, in ever deepening poverty, continued to cherish the ideals which she had embodied in the Inquisition.
There was one service the performance of which it was never tired of claiming for itself and is still claimed for it by its advocates--that in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries it preserved Spain from the religious wars which desolated France and Germany. This service may well be called in question, for the temperament and training of the Spanish nation render ludicrous the assumption that a couple of hundred heretics, among whom but half a dozen had the spirit of martyrdom for their faith, could cause such spread of dissidence as to endanger peace; yet even should we admit this service, its method, in causing intellectual torpor and segregating the nation from all influences from abroad, only postponed the inevitable, while intensifying the disturbance when the change should come from medievalism to modernism. The nineteenth century bore, in an aggravated form, the brunt which should have fallen on the sixteenth. When the spirit of the Revolution broke in, it found a population sedulously trained to passive obedience to the State and submissiveness to the Church. It had been so long taught, by theocratic absolutism, that it must not think or reason for itself, that it had lost the power of reasoning" on the great problems of life. It was without reverence for law, for it was accustomed to see the arbitrary will of an absolute sovereign override the law, and it was without experience to choose between the sober realities of responsible government and the glittering promises of ardent idealists. Yet the Revolution passed away leaving matters as they were before. The habit of unquestioning submission, inherited through generations, has become so fixed a part of the national character that, as we are told, the people fail to recognize that they are as completely under bondage to Caciquism as erstwhile they were to monarchy--that in fact the nation is still in its infancy and is unfit to govern itself. (92)
As in temporal, so it has been in the spiritual field. In the turmoil of the Revolution the Inquisition died a natural death, but the Church filled the vacancy. It had grown so accustomed  to the acceptance, on all hands, of its divine mission, it had so long enjoyed unassailable wealth and power, that it could not adapt itself to the necessities of the new situation and, when it could not rely upon the brute force of the State, it called into play the popular passions which it had fostered. As an irreconcileable, it provoked the attacks made on its overgrown wealth and numbers; it was uncompromising and would listen to no adjustment, for it claimed the full benefit of the canon law under which it was exempted from all interference by the State; its attitude was of immovable hostility to the new order of things, and it suffered the rough handling that inevitably resulted, courting martyrdom rather than tamely to permit profane hands to be laid upon the ark. It has thus continued to be an unassimilable element in the political situation, its policy directed from Rome and the vast influence of its perfect organization employed to retard rather than to stimulate progress in good government and material prosperity. (93) What may be the outcome of the pending struggle between Church and State, aroused by the recognition of civil marriage, it is too early to predict.
Thus the conclusion that may be drawn from our review of the causes underlying the misfortunes of Spain is that what may fairly be attributable to the Inquisition is its service as the official instrument of the intolerance that led to such grave results, and its influence on the Spanish character in intensifying that intolerance into a national characteristic, while benumbing the Spanish intellect until it may be said for a time to have almost ceased to think. The objects for which it was so shrewdly and so carefully organized were effectually attained and, in the eyes of experienced statesmen, at the time of its fullest development, it was the bulwork of the faith. In 1573, Leonardo Donato reflects the  prevailing view in governmental circles when he speaks of its authority and severity as absolutely necessary, for the number of the New Christians was everywhere so great, recently baptized with God knows what disposition, and with ancestral memories still vivid, that, if it were not for the incessant watch kept over them by the Inquisition, there would be great danger that Spain would lose her religion. In 1581, Gioan Francesco Morosini declares that, although the Spaniards were in appearance the most devout and Catholic of nations, yet, what between the Jews, Moriscos and heretics, Spain would be more infected than Germany or England if it were not for the fear inspired by the severity of the Inquisition; and the same views are expressed by Giambattista Confalonieri in 1591, and by the Lucchese envoy Damiano Bernardini, in 1602. (94) Yet the faith, thus sedulously preserved at such fearful cost, was largely, as we have seen, one of exterior observance, without corresponding internal piety, ready to burst into flame for the maintenance of a dogma like the Immaculate Conception, and to earn heaven by paying for masses and anniversaries and chaplaincies, but not to labor for it by purity of life and self-abnegation, or by obeying the divine command to earn its bread by the sweat of its brow. The natural result of this, when brought face to face with modern conditions, is that Cánovas del Castillo, in a debate in the C6rtes of 1869, declared with sorrow that Spain, of all nations, was the one most indifferent to religion, and a recent author asserts that there would be no hazard in affirming the Spaniards to be the most irreligious, indifferent, and practically atheist people in Europe. (95)
In fact, the dissociation of religion from morals--the incongruous connection of ardent zeal for dogma with laxity of life-- was stimulated by the Inquisition. As we have seen, it paid no attention to morals and thus taught the lesson that they were unimportant in comparison with accuracy of belief. No matter how dissolute was the conduct of the confessor with his spiritual daughters, he was safe so long as he did not commit a technical transgression inferring suspicion of misbelief as to the sacrament, and even when he neglected these precautions we have seen how benignant was the treatment extended to him. It is true that,  towards the end of the sixteenth century, the Inquisition showed remarkable ardor in prosecuting those who gave utterance to the common opinion that there was no sin in simple fornication between the unmarried, and that in large measure it suppressed the utterance, but, as it punished only the utterance and not the sin, this did nothing to advance morality. The same may be said of its ignorant destruction of works of art which it regarded as indecent and the occasional prohibition of a book or play that evoked its disapprobation. In the absence of more serious work a few cases may be found of its undertaking to vindicate morals, but they are too rare for us to attribute to them any motive save a desire to intermeddle. The advancement of morality in fact was no part of its functions as a bulwark of the faith; rather, indeed, it aided in disseminating corruption by its custom of reading at the autos de fe sentences con meritos of which the details were an effective popular education in vice. (96) The result is seen in the seventeenth century, when the only heretics were the scattered and persecuted Portuguese, and yet there has probably never existed a society more abandoned to corruption--so abandoned, indeed, that even the sense of shame was lost. Padre Corella was no rigorist but, towards the close of the century, he draws a hideous picture of social conditions; everywhere, he says, is vice and crime, lust and cruelty, fraud and rapine, in the seats of trade, in the halls of justice, in the family, in the court, in the churches, while the clergy, if possible, are worse than the laity. Philip IV, who so religiously supported the Inquisition, was not only notorious for his licentiousness, but amused himself with scandalously sacrilegious comedies and farces in his palace theatre, where the scenes and persons of Scripture were made subjects of ridicule, and this style passed into popular literature and rhymes which escaped the censure. (97)
Spanish theology, which was supreme in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, made only one real contribution--the invention of Probabilism by Bartolome de Medina in his commentaries on Aquinas in 1577. On this was founded the new  science of Moral Theology, devoted to evading the penalties of sin, and to applying to the decrees of God the favorite Spanish device for eluding those of the king, by obeying and not executing. Escobar, held up to an infamous immortality by Pascal, merely compiled what he found in theologians of the highest authority and, when the laxity of the Jesuit Moya's Opusculum called forth a papal prohibition in 1666, repeated in 1680, the Spanish Inquisition asserted its independence by refusing to put the work on the Index. (98) The practical influence of all this is described in a memorial of nine Spanish bishops, in 1717, to Clement XI, against the Consultas Morales of the Capuchin Martin de Torricella, in which they state that Probabilism had undermined all morality and all obedience to divine, municipal and canon law, and that multitudes lived disorderly lives under appeal to probabilistic casuistry, for so-called probable opinions could be had to justify whatever men desired to do. (99)
If the power of the Inquisition thus was withheld when it might have been exerted with benefit to society, it was actively employed, under the later Hapsburgs, to loosen the bonds of social order and stimulate contempt for law. To it was largely attributable the virtual anarchy of Spain, during the seventeenth century, arising from the numerous competing jurisdictions and the contempt felt for the royal officials. This found its origin in the insolent audacity with which the Inquisition enforced its claims to jurisdiction. When the royal officials were excommunicated, arrested and imprisoned without scruple, and the highest courts were treated with contempt and contumely, respect for law and its ministers was fatally weakened. That the other privileged jurisdictions--the Cruzada, the spiritual, and the military--should follow the example was inevitable, and the social condition of Spain became deplorable. (100) In 1677, the Council of Castile represented to Carlos II the evils thus inflicted on the people by the two chief offenders, the Inquisition and the Cruzada, the most oppressive form of which was the abuse of excommunication for matters purely secular. The Council had endeavored to remedy this, but its authority had been suspended and it was powerless to protect the vassals of the crown. Carlos feebly replied that,  although he could deprive them of the royal jurisdiction which they abused, yet he deemed it better not to do so, and he contented himself with prohibiting the use of censures in temporal matters-- a prohibition which of course was disregarded. (101) In the very next year Carlos was made to feel his powerlessness in the face of the arrogant superiority asserted by the Inquisition.
When, in 1678, the raid on the whole trading community of Majorca gave promise of immense confiscations, Carlos prudently ordered, May 30th, the viceroy to look after the safety of the sequestrations. The viceroy thereupon asked for inventories or statements and, on their refusal, made threats of taking further measures. The tribunal reported to the Suprema which instructed the inquisitors to defend their jurisdiction by censures and, if necessary, by a cessatio a divinis, when, if this did not suffice, they were to entrust their prisoners to the bishop and sail for Spain, reporting to the pops. After despatching this defiant and revolutionary missive, the Suprema, on August 8th, condescended to inform the king of it in the form of a stinging rebuke. The request of the viceroy, it said, was an unexampled assault on religion and the Holy See, and also a profanation of the most venerable sacred-ness of the Inquisition; sequestrated property was ecclesiastical property until confiscated, and to allow a layman to control it would be subversive of all law, as well as a violation of the secrecy of the Inquisition. Carlos humbly apologized; he had not meant to show distrust and would punish the viceroy if he had exceeded his instructions, but he complained that, without notice to him, the inquisitors should have been ordered to leave Majorca, and thus cause irreparable evils. The Suprema, in reply, followed up its advantage. The abandonment of Majorca by the inquisitors would be a less evil than violating the secrecy of the Inquisition; the viceroy should have positive orders to keep his hands off, and the king ought to have consulted it before issuing such instructions; this would have prevented all trouble, for the operations of the Inquisition were so special and peculiar that even his superior intelligence could not understand them without explanations. (102) This insolence accomplished its purpose; Carlos was effectually snubbed, and we have seen how small was the share of the spoils eventually doled out to him.
 The Inquisition, in fact, was virtually an independent power in the state, which asserted itself after the vigorous personality of Ferdinand had been forgotten. Its aspiration to dominate the land was revealed in the projected Order of Santa María de la Espada blanca which Philip II was shrewd enough to crush while yet there was time, but the measure of independence which it had already attained was seen when the Córtes of the kingdoms of Aragon sought to get the signature of the inquisitor-general, as well as of the king, to the concessions which they secured, and when the Inquisition ignored the royal agreements, even to the point of deliberately contravening them in the matter of confiscations. It was manifested, in the affair of Antonio Pérez, when Philip II was obliged to call it to his assistance, and it followed its own interests in disregard of the royal policy. So, in the long struggle with Bilbao over the visitas de navios, it virtually set at defiance both the crown and all the authorities of Biscay. If it helped the monarchy in the struggle with Rome over the regalías, when it had thus secured its independence of the papal Inquisition it had no scruple in turning its powers of censorship against the royal prerogative. But for the advent of the Bourbon dynasty, it might reasonably have looked forward to becoming eventually dominant, for it combined legislative and executive functions, temporal and spiritual jurisdiction, and asserted, like the Church, the right to define the limits of its own powers. Its whole career, indeed, shows how baseless is the modern theory that it was an instrument of the State in establishing the autocracy of the monarch. If the fallacy of this requires further proof it is sufficiently demonstrated, even under the first of the Bourbons, by the fate of Macanaz, whom it dismissed from power and condemned to a life of poverty and exile because, in the service of the king, he endeavored to render it what Ranke and Gams fancy it to have been. It is true that, in its period of decadence, it joined forces with the crown to withstand the inroad of free thought, which was equally threatening to both, and that it employed its expiring power to suppress political as well as spiritual heresy, but in this it was fighting its own battle as much as that of the monarchy on which it depended for existence.
Defenders of the Inquisition, in the controversy over its suppression and since then, have relied largely on the assertion that, during its existence, no voice was raised against it, that all organs  of public opinion and all writers praised it, as the protector of religion, and as extremely careful to administer exact justice. So far from this being the case, we have seen its own admissions (Vol. I, p. 538) of the hearty hatred felt for it and its officials, and we have heard the complaints of the Córtes of Valladolid in 1518 and 1523, of Coruña in 1520 and of Madrid in 1575, besides the ceaseless struggles of Aragon and Catalonia, whose Córtes had not been reduced to servility. What was its reputation throughout Europe may be gauged by the fact that, in 1535, when João III was endeavoring to have an Inquisition of his own in Portugal, and there was talk of referring the subject to the general council then expected shortly to assemble, his ambassador at Rome, Martinho, Archbishop of Funchal, warned him that, if the matter was broached in the council, it would result in abolishing the Inquisition of Spain. (103) In Spain, its reputation is to be gathered from the unbiased reports of the Venetian envoys, who lauded its services in the suppression of heresy, and to whom, as practical statesmen, it was an object of wonder and admiration, as a machine perfectly devised to keep the people in abject subjection. In these reports it is observable that, while all are emphatic as to its rigor, not one hazards approval of its justice. The envoys were profoundly impressed by the universal awe which it inspired. As early as 1525, Gasparo Contarini tells us that every one trembled before it, for its severity and the dread entertained for it were greater even than for the Council of Ten. In 1557, Federico Badoero speaks of the terror caused by its pitiless procedure. In 1563, Paolo Tiepolo, after dwelling on the secrecy and unsparing rigor of its judgements, says that every one shudders at its very name, as it has supreme authority over the property, life, honor and even the souls of men. Two years later Giovanni Soranzo speaks of the great fear inspired by it, for its authority transcends incomparably that of the king. In 1567, Antonio Tiepolo echoes these assertions, and all agree in their comments on the influence of the mysterious secrecy of its operation and the relentless severity of its action. (104)
It scarce needs this testimony to explain why no unfavorable opinion of the Inquisition is to be expected of Spaniards during  its existence, except by those who spoke as mandatories of the people in the Córtes or high officials in contests over competencias. Terror rendered silence imperative, and secrecy made ignorance universal. The discharged prisoner was sworn to reveal nothing of what he had endured and any complaint of injustice subjected him to prosecution. Criticism was held to be impeding its action and was a crime subject to condign punishment. Writers had ever to keep in view its censorship, with the certainty that any ill-judged word would ensure the suppression of a book, and any attempt at self-justification would lead to worse consequences, as Belando found when a petition to be heard cost him life-long imprisonment and prohibition to use the pen. When, in the yearly Edict of Faith, every one was required, under pain of excommunication, to denounce any impeding, direct or indirect, of the tribunal, or any criticism of the justice of its operation, restraint became universal and habitual and, in the instinct of self-preservation, men would naturally seek to teach themselves and their children not even to think ill of the Inquisition lest, in some unguarded moment, a chance utterance might lead to prosecution and infamy. The popular refran, Con el Rey y la Inquisition, chiton!--Silence as to the king and the Inquisition-- reveals to us better than a world of argument, the result of this repression through generations, and its efficiency is seen in the fact that in Toledo, from 1648 to 1794, there was but a single trial for speaking ill of the Holy Office. Such training bore its fruits when autocracy broke down under the Revolution and the experiment of self-government was essayed.
The Spaniard was taught not alone to repress his opinions as to the Inquisition but to keep a guard on his tongue under all circumstances, not only in public but in the sacred confidence of his own family, for the duty of denunciation applied to husband and father, to wife and children. Even as early as 1534, the orthodox Juan Luis Vives complained to Erasmus that in those difficult times it was dangerous either to speak or to keep silent. (105) The cautious Mariana tells us that the most grievous oppression caused by the introduction of the Inquisition was the deprivation of freedom of speech, which some persons regarded as a servitude worse than death. (106) We have seen how seriously were treated even the  most trivial and careless expressions, which could be tortured into disregard of some theological tenet or disrespect for some church observance, and it behooved every one to be on his guard at all times and in all places. The yearly Edict of Faith kept the terror of the Inquisition constantly before every man and was perhaps the most efficient device ever invented to subject a population to the fear of an ever-impending danger. No other nation ever lived through centuries under a moral oppression so complete, so minute and so all-pervading.
That the Inquisition inspired a dread greater than that felt for the
royal authority is illustrated by a curious instance, in which it was utilized
for good in subduing a lawless community. In 1588, Lupus Martin de Govilla,
Inquisitor of Barcelona, in a visitation came to Montblanch, where no inquisitor
had been for many years. He found it a populous town, torn by factions
so bitter that men were slain in the streets, battles were fought in the
plaza, and women at their windows were shot with arquebuses. After publishing
the Edict of Faith he discovered that witnesses were afraid to come to
him through the streets and, regarding this as a contempt of the Inquisition,
he issued a proclamation forbidding the carrying of arquebuses and cross-bows,
and his order was obeyed. He made an example of one offender by requiring
him to hear mass as a penitent, banishing him and confiscating his arquebus,
which quieted the people, so that the Inquisition could be carried on.
Then a murder occurred, and the regidors procured from the viceroy full
powers for him to pacify the town; by general agreement all placed themselves
under the jurisdiction of the Inquisition, as there was no safety under
the royal, and they gave thanks to God that peace was restored, and that
men could move around without arms. Govilla went to Poblet, when news was
brought him of another murder; he returned and imprisoned and penanced
those guilty, who complained to the viceroy, but the Audiencia, after examination
dismissed the complaint, and this strange jurisdiction of the Inquisition
seems to have continued for some ten years. (107)
Before dismissing the impression produced by the severity of the Inquisition it will not be amiss to attempt some conjecture as to the totality of its operations, especially as regards the  burnings, which naturally affected more profoundly the imagination. There is no question that the number of these has been greatly exaggerated in popular belief, an exaggeration to which Llorente has largely contributed by his absurd method of computation, on an arbitrary assumption of a certain annual average for each tribunal in successive periods. It is impossible now to reconstruct the statistics of the Inquisition, especially during its early activity, but some general conclusions can be formed from the details accessible as to a few tribunals.
The burnings without doubt were numerous during the first few years, through the unregulated ardor of inquisitors, little versed in the canon law, who seem to have condemned right and left, on flimsy evidence, and without allowing their victims the benefit of applying for reconciliation, for, while there might be numerous negativos, there certainly were few pertinacious impenitents. The discretion allowed to them to judge as to the genuineness of conversion gave a dangerous power, which was doubtless abused by zealots, and the principle that imperfect confession was conclusive of impenitence added many to the list of victims, while the wholesale reconciliations under the Edicts of Grace afforded an abundant harvest to be garnered under the rule condemning relapse. In the early years, moreover, the absent and the dead contributed with their effigies largely to the terrible solemnities of the quemadero.
Modern writers vary irreconcileably in their estimates, influenced more largely by subjective considerations than by the imperfect statistics at their command. Rodrigo coolly asserts as a positive fact that those who perished in Spain at the stake for heresy did not amount to 400 and that these were voluntary victims, who refused to retract their errors. (108) Father Gams reckons 2000 for the period up to the death of Isabella, in 1504, and as many more from that date up to 1758. (109) On the other hand, Llorente calculates that, up to the end of Torquemada's activity, there had been condemned 105,294 persons, of whom 8800 were  burnt alive, 6500 in effigy and 90,004 exposed to public penance, while, up to 1524, the grand totals amounted to 14,344, 9372 and 195,937. (110) Even these figures are exceeded by Amador de los Rios, who is not usually given to exaggeration. He assumes that, up to 1525, when the Moriscos commenced to suffer as heretics, the number of those burnt alive amounted to 28,540, of those burnt in effigy to 16,520 and those penanced to 303,847, making a total of 348,907 condemnations for Judaism. (111) Don Melgares Marin, whose familiarity with the documents is incontestable, tells us that, in Castile, during 1481, more than 20,000 were reconciled under Edicts of Grace, more than 3000 were penanced with the sanbenito, and more than 4000 were burnt, but he adduces no authorities in support of the estimate. (112)
The only contemporary who gives us figures for the whole of Spain is Hernando de Pulgar, secretary of Queen Isabella. His official position gave him facilities for obtaining information, and his scarcely veiled dislike for the Inquisition was not likely to lead to underrating its activity. He states at 15,000 those who had come in under Edicts of Grace, and at 2000 those who were burnt, besides the dead whose bones were exhumed in great quantities; the number of penitents he does not estimate. Unluckily, he gives no date but, as his Chronicle ends in 1490, we may  assume that to be the term comprised. (113) With some variations his figures were adopted by subsequent writers. (114) Bernáldez only makes the general statement that throughout Spain an infinite number were burnt and condemned and reconciled and imprisoned, and of those reconciled many relapsed and were burnt. (115)
Imperfect as are the records, we may endeavor to test these various estimates by such evidence as is at hand respecting a few of the tribunals. In this we may commence with Seville, which was unquestionably the most active. The Inquisition had started there, as the centre of crypto-Judaism; it was the most populous city of Castile, with nearly half a million of inhabitants, and its unrivalled commercial activity rendered it peculiarly attractive to the Converses, while Isabella's Andalusian decree of expulsion must have largely increased the number of pseudo-proselytes. In 1524, there was placed over the gateway of the castle of Triana, occupied by the tribunal, an inscription of which the purport is not entirely clear, but signifying that, up to that time, it had caused the abjuration of more than 20,000 heretics and had burnt nearly 1000 obstinate ones. (116) This is probably an understatement, if we are to believe Bernaldez, who asserts that in eight years, from the founding of the Seville tribunal up to 1488, it had burnt in person more than 700 heretics, besides many effigies of fugitives and an infinite number of bones; those reconciled during the same period he estimates at 5000. (117) Still its activity must soon have greatly diminished for, in 1502, Antoine de Lalaing, visiting the Castle of Triana, describes it as containing more than twenty heretic prisoners which he evidently regards as a large number, but which would argue a very moderate amount of persecution in view of the leisurely procedure that was becoming usual. (118) There is therefore an apparent tendency to exaggerate the achievements of the Holy Office in the statement of its secretary Zurita, some  half-century or more later, that in Seville alone, up to the year 1520, there were more than 4000 culprits burnt and more than 30,000 reconciled and penanced, besides the numerous fugitives, and he adds that an author, very diligent in the matter, affirms these figures to be exceedingly defective and that, in the archbishopric of Seville alone, there were condemned as Judaizing heretics, more than a hundred thousand persons, including those reconciled. (119) Cardinal Contarini, when Venetian envoy in 1525, was evidently misled by this tendency to amplification, when he describes the Inquisition as having made a slaughter of the New Christians impossible to exaggerate. (120)
Unfortunately no authentic records have seen the light by which to test the accuracy of these varying estimates of the activity of the most destructive tribunal during the early period. It is otherwise with several of those that ranked next to it in importance. For the province of Toledo, as we have seen, the first tribunal was established at Ciudad Real where, in its two years of existence, it relaxed in person 47 and in effigy 98. (121) Transferred to Toledo, in 1485, its operations at first were energetic, but they diminished greatly towards the end of the century until, in 1501, it had a spasmodic period of activity through the discovery of "La Moça de Herrera" (Vol. I, p. 186) a young Jewish prophetess, to whose numerous believers no mercy was shown, for those who had been reconciled thus incurred the penalty of relapse. The total operations of the Toledo tribunal, from its origin in 1485 until 1501, amount to 250 relaxed in person, over 500 in effigy, about 200 imprisoned and 5200 reconciled under Edicts of Grace. Of the personally relaxed, nearly half, or 117, were followers of the prophetess, leaving only 139 ordinary Judaizers and, of those  imprisoned, about 140 may be accounted for in the same way. (122) Saragossa was reckoned as one of the most deadly tribunals in Spain--indeed, Llorente remarks that if he had taken it and Toledo as the basis of his calculations, he would have tripled the number of victims. (123) For this we have the details of the sixty-five autos, held from 1485 to 1502, furnished by the record printed in the Appendix to Volume I. Summarized, this gives the totals of 119 burnt alive, 5 quartered, beheaded or strangled prior to burning, 3 bodies burnt, 29 effigies burnt and 458 penanced, or an aggregate of 614. (124) The Libro Verde de Aragon, moreover, gives us an official list of the residents of Saragossa burnt, from 1483 to 1574, in summarizing which it appears that, during these ninety-two years, the total of relaxations in person was 125 and in effigy 77, including seven witches, three sorcerers and four Protestants. Tabulation by years emphasizes the diminution of activity after the close of the fifteenth century. (125)
Barcelona is another important tribunal of which we have accurate statistics during its early years, furnished by the royal archivist, Pere Miguel Carbonell. From its foundation to the  end of Torquemada's career, in 1498, there were thirty-one autos celebrated in Barcelona, Tarragona, Lérida, Gerona, Perpignan, Vich, Elne and Balaguer. In these the totals are only 10 strangled and burnt, 13 burnt alive, 15 dead and 430 burnt in effigy, 1 reconciled in effigy, 116 penanced with prison and 304 reconciled for spontaneous confession. (126)
Valencia, of all the tribunals, was the one which best maintained its activity throughout the sixteenth century, owing to the dense Morisco population. We have a list of all persons imprisoned for heresy, from the beginning in 1485 up to 1592 inclusive, amounting in all to 3104, of whom 530 were contributed by the last four years, 1589-92, when the persecution of the Moriscos was particularly active. There is also an alphabetical list of persons relaxed, from the beginning until 1593, unfortunately imperfect and ending with the letter N, but, by adding twenty-five per cent, we can obtain a reasonably close approximation to the total. The list as we have it gives 515 relaxations in person and 383 in effigy, or, with the addition of twenty-five per cent., 643 of the former and 479 of the latter, being nearly an average of six per annum of the former and four and a half of the latter. (127)
Valladolid had the most extensive territory of all the tribunals, but it comprised the northern provinces, where the New Christians were comparatively few. It was not organized for work until 1488, making its first arrest on September 29th of that year, and holding its first auto on June 19, 1489, when, after nine months' work on new ground, there were but eighteen relaxations in person and four in effigy. The next auto recorded did not occur until January 5, 1492, when the relaxations in person numbered thirty-two and in effigy two. (128) This, while sufficiently cruel, indicates that the victims in the northern provinces bore but a small proportion to those in the southern.
At the other extremity of Spain was the little tribunal of Majorca, which acquired a sudden and sinister reputation by the occurrences of 1678 and 1691. It started in 1488 and for some years was fairly active, lapsing in time into virtual torpor, as far as persecution was concerned, so that, including its autos of 1678 and 1691, the whole aggregate of its work for over two centuries  amounted to 139 relaxations in person, 482 in effigy and 637 reconciliations, in addition to 338 reconciled under Edicts of Grace in 1488 and 1491. (129)
In the later periods there are records which enable us to reach a fairly accurate computation of the activity of some at least of the tribunals. A few of these I have had the opportunity of consulting and the researches of future students will doubtless in time compile tolerably complete statistics for the second and third centuries of the Inquisition, after the Suprema had compelled the tribunals to render periodical reports.
We have those of Toledo, from 1575 to 1610, not wholly complete, for the auto of 1595 is omitted, and the MS. breaks off at the commencement of that of 1610. Toledo, at the time, was the most important tribunal in Spain, for it included Madrid, yet during these thirty-five years the relaxations amount to only eleven in person and fifteen in effigy, so that, allowing for the omissions, there may have been one in person every three years and one in effigy every two years, while the various penances number in all nine hundred and four. (130) Small as are these results they continued to diminish. For the same tribunal we have a record extending from 1648 to 1794 and, during this century and a half, there were only eight relaxations in person and sixty-three in effigy, the latest execution occurring in 1738. This gives us an average of one of the former every eighteen years and one of the latter every two years and a quarter. In addition, there were a thousand and ninety-four penanced in various ways. (131) It is true that, about 1650, a separate tribunal was erected in Madrid, but a list of relaxations there, from its foundation up to 1754, when relaxation had virtually become obsolete, gives us only an aggregate of nineteen in person and sixteen in effigy, or one in every five years of the former and in six years of -the latter. (132) During the height of the renewed persecution of Judaizers in the eighteenth century, in the whole of the sixty-four autos celebrated throughout Spain from 1721 to 1727, the total number of relaxations was seventy-seven in person and seventy-four in effigy, making an average of about eleven a year of each class--a grim record enough, but vastly less than has been popularly accepted. (133) Nor must it be forgotten that, in the vast majority of cases, the victim was  mercifully strangled before the fire was set. We have seen how very small was the proportion of impenitents who persevered to the last and refused to earn the garrote by professing conversion.
The material at hand as yet is evidently insufficient to justify even a guess at the ghastly total. Yet, after all, it is not a matter of as much moment, as seems to have been imagined, to determine how many human beings the Inquisition consigned to the stake, how many bones it exhumed, how many effigies it burnt, how many penitents it threw into prison or sent to the galleys, how many orphans its confiscations cast penniless on the world. The story is terrible enough without reducing it to figures. Its awful significance lies in the fact that men were found who conscientiously did this, to the utmost of their ability, in the name of the gospel of peace and of Him who came to teach the brotherhood of man. It is enough to know that the inquisitors used their utmost efforts to stamp out what they deemed heresy, and the tale of their victims is not the gauge of their cruelty but of the number of heretics whom they could discover. Save when pride or cupidity or ambition may have been the impelling motive, the men are not to be blamed, but the teaching which gave them such a conception of the duty so relentlessly performed, and framed a system of procedure which shrouded their acts in darkness and deprived the accused of his legitimate means of defence. The good Cura de los Palacios was evidently a kindly natured man, but he declares that the fires lighted by the Inquisition shall burn to the very heart of the wood, until all Judaizers are slain and not one remains, even to their children if infected with the same leprosy. (134)
In the hurried work of the early period there was no effort made to induce the conversion that would save the accused from the stake, but, in later times, the persistent labor bestowed on the condemned, during the three days prior to the auto, is evidence that the tribunals did not act through thirst of blood and that they were sincerely desirous to save both the body and soul of  the heretic, in the same spirit that torture was sometimes piously administered in order to confirm the sufferer in the faith. Still, at times, there was doubtless a certain pride in affording to the populace the spectacle of a relaxation and thus demonstrating the authority of the Holy Office. That the public should relish the entertainment thus provided was natural, both from the inherent attraction which the sight of suffering has for a certain class of minds, and from the assiduous teaching that heresy was to be exterminated and that the slaying of a heretic was an acceptable offering to God. The Inquisitor Lorenzo Flores relates that, at the great Valladolid auto of 1609, where there were seventy penitents, many of them reconciled or sentenced to abjuration de vehementi, the people murmured because the one condemned to relaxation had professed conversion in time and had thus escaped the stake, and there were many complaints that the auto was not worth the expense of coming to see. He adds that, at Toledo, where there was no one relaxed, the people declared that the auto was a failure. (135)
There is something terrible in the fierce exultation which fanaticism experienced in the agonies of the misbeliever. Padre Garau, in his account of the Mallorquin auto of May 6, 1691, gloats with an exuberance, which he knew would be shared by his readers, on the agonies of the three impenitents who were burnt alive. As the flames reached them they struggled desperately to free themselves from the iron ring which clasped them to the stake. Rafael Benito Terongi succeeded in releasing himself but to no purpose, for he fell sideways into the fire. His sister Cathalina, who had boasted that she would cast herself into the flames, when they began to lick her, shrieked to be set free. Rafael Vails, who had professed stoical insensibility, stood motionless as a statue so long as only the smoke reached him, but, when the flames attacked him, he bent and twisted and writhed till he could no more; he was as fat as a sucking-pig and burnt internally, so that, after the flames left him, he continued burning like a hot coal and, bursting open, his entrails fell out like those of Judas. Thus burning alive they died, to burn forever in hell. (136) Such were the lessons which  the Church inculcated and such was the training which it gave to Spain, so that the auto de fe came to be regarded as a spectacular religious entertainment on the occasion of a royal visit, or in honor of the marriage of princes. Incidental to this was the cruel perpetuation of ancestral disgrace by the display of sanbenitos in churches, which Philip II rightly reckoned as the severest of inflictions. It intensified the terror inspired by the tribunal which, with a word, could consign a whole lineage to infamy. It kept alive and vigorous the horror of heresy and was aggravated by the statutes of Limpieza.
I hesitate to impugn the motives of those who were active in these terrible
"triumphs of the faith," as they were fondly termed and, as stated above,
the efforts to induce conversion show that there was no absolute thirst
of blood, yet it is impossible, in reviewing the career of the Inquisition,
not to recognize how powerful an adjunct to fanaticism was the profitableness
of persecution. Had the Holy Office been a source of expense instead of
income, we may reasonably doubt whether the ardor of Ferdinand and Isabella
would have sufficed for its introduction, and it certainly would have had
but a comparatively short and inactive career. We have seen how closely
Ferdinand watched its expenditures and endeavored to keep down its cost,
while enjoying the results of its productiveness, and how grudgingly the
crown ministered to its necessities when aid was unavoidable. We have seen
moreover how eagerly the Inquisition itself grasped at all sources of gain,
how it was stimulated to convict its victims by the prospect of their confiscations,
and how fines and penances were scaled, not by the guilt of the culprits
but by its necessities; how jealously it guarded its receipts, and how
little it recked of deception and mendacity when there was attempt to investigate
its finances. After all is said, the Inquisition was an institution with
a double duty--the destruction of heresy and the raising of money to encompass
that destruction--and there are not wanting indications that the latter
tended to supersede, or at least to obscure, the former. We may well question
the purity of zeal which provided punishments and disabilities for heresy
and at the same time chaffered over the market price of commutations and
dispensations through which those penalties could be evaded. Not only confiscation
but pecuniary penance and fines were a source of revenue provocative of
continual abuse, and the rage for Limpieza provided abundant opportunities
for extortion. The filthy odor of gain  pervades all the active
period of the Inquisition, and its comparative inactivity during its later
career may perhaps be attributed as much to the absence of wealthy heretics
as to the diminishing spirit of intolerance.
Various ingenious theories have been framed to relieve the Inquisition of responsibility for the remarkable eclipse of Spanish intellectual progress after the sixteenth century. (137) It is one of the interesting problems in the history of literature that Spain, whose brilliant achievements throughout the Reformation period promised to make her as dominant in the world of letters as in military and naval enterprise, should, within the space of a couple of generations, have become the most uncultured land in Christendom, without a public to encourage learning and genius, and without learning and genius to stimulate a public. For this there must have been a cause and no other adequate one than the Inquisition has been discovered to account for this occultation. )
Indeed, but for the effort to argue it away, it would seem superfluous to insist that a system of severe repression of thought, by all the instrumentalities of Inquisition and State, is an ample explanation of the decadence of Spanish learning and literature, especially when coupled with the obstacles thrown around printing and publication by their combined censorship. The tribulations of Luis de Leon and Francisco Sanchez illustrate the dangers to which independent thinkers were exposed; the great printing-house of Portonares was ruined by the exigencies of the Inquisition in the matter of the Vatable Bible. All a priori considerations cast the responsibility on the censorship of thought, whether printed or expressed verbally in what were known as "propositions," and the burden of proof is thrown upon those who deny it. Their reliance is on the fact that Isabella stimulated the development of Spanish culture and, at the same time, established the Inquisition, which thus was in existence for more than a century before the decadence became marked. This is quite easily explicable. The Inquisition was founded to extirpate Jewish and Moorish apostasy; in this it long had ample work without developing its evil capacity in the direction of censorship, save in such a sporadic instance as  Diego Deza's prosecution, in 1504, of the foremost scholar of his time, Elio Antonio de Nebrija, for venturing to correct the errors of the Vulgate for the Complutensian Polyglot, in the service of Ximenez who protected him and, when inquisitor-general, allowed him to resume his labors. (138) With the advent of Lutheranism there gradually commenced the search for errors; crude Indexes of condemned books were compiled, reading and investigation became restricted; the pragmática of 1559 forbade education at foreign seats of learning and an elaborate system was gradually organized for protecting Spain from intellectual intercourse with other lands, while at home every phrase that could be construed in an objectionable sense was condemned. For awhile the men whose training had been free from these trammels persisted, in spite of persecution more or less severe, but they gradually died out and had no successors. In 1601 Mariana explained that he translated his History from the original Latin because there were few who understood that language; such learning brought neither honor nor profit and he feared the unskilfulness of those who threatened to undertake the task. (139) It is true, however, that Latin was widely studied as essential to gaining place in Church or State, but to the neglect of everything else. Fray Peñalosa y Mondragon, in 1629, while boasting of the thirty-two universities and four thousand Latin schools and of Spanish pre-eminence in the supreme science of theology, for which there were infinite rewards, admits that there were none for the other sciences and arts, which were not regarded with favor or estimated as formerly. (140) The intellectual energy of the nation, diverted from more serious channels, continued through another period to exhibit itself in the lighter fields of literature, where the names of Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Tirso de Molina, Calderon de la Barca, Quevedo de Villegas and others show of what Spanish intellect was still capable if it were allowed free play. Even these however passed away and had no successors in the growing intellectual torpor created by obscurantist censorship, and a dreary blank followed which even the stimulation attempted by Philip V could not relieve.
To produce and preserve this torpor, by repressing all dangerous intellectuality, Spain was carefully kept out of the current of  European progress. In other lands the debates of the Reformation forced Catholics as well as Protestants to investigations and speculations shocking to Spanish conservatism. The human mind was enabled to cast off the shackles of the Dark Ages, and was led to investigate the laws of nature and the relations of man to the universe and to God. From all this bustling intellectual movement Spain was carefully secluded. Short-sighted opportunism, seeing the turmoil which agitated France and England and Germany, might bless the institution which preserved the Peninsula in peaceful stagnation, but the price paid for torpidity was fearfully extravagant, for Spain became an intellectual nonentity. Even the great theologians and mystics disappeared from the field which they had made their own, and were succeeded by a race of probabilistic casuists, who sought only to promote and to justify self-indulgence. How intellectual progress fared under these influences may be estimated by a single instance. When, in England, Halley was investigating the periodicity of the comet which bears his name, in Spain learned professors of the universities of Salamanca and Saragossa were publishing tracts reassure the frightened people, by proving that the dreadful portent boded evil only to the wicked--to the Turk and the heretic. (141) The perfect success of the Inquisition in its work is manifested in the contrast between the eighteenth and the early sixteenth century, as illustrated by the statement of Juan Antonio Mayans y Siscar, that a cartload of the precious MSS. bestowed by Ximenes on his University of Alcalá was sold to the fire-works maker Torrecilla, for a display in honor of PhilipV, and that several other similar collections had shared the same fate. (142) Even after half a century of Bourbon effort to revitalize the dormant intellect of Spain, Father Rabago, the royal confessor, grudged the money spent on historiographers and academies; it was a pure gift, he says, for it yields no fruits. (143) In fact, the awakening from intellectual stupor was slow, for Dom Clemencin tells us that there was less printing in Spain at the commencement of the nineteenth century than there had been in the fifteenth under Isabella. (144)  It is impossible not to conclude that the Inquisition paralyzed both the intellectual and the economic development of Spain and it is scarce reasonable for Valera to complain that, when Spain was aroused from its mental marasmus, it was to receive a foreign and not to revive a native culture. (145)
That science and art and literature should thus be submerged was a national misfortune, but even more to be deplored were the indirect consequences. Material progress became impossible, industry languished, and the inability to meet foreign competition assisted the mistaken internal policy of the government in prolonging and intensifying the poverty of the people. Nor was this the chief of the evils that sprung from keeping the mind of the nation in leading-strings, from repressing thought and from excluding foreign ideas, for the people were thus rendered absolutely unfitted to meet the inevitable change that came with the Revolution. To this, in large measure, may be attributed the sufferings through which Spain has passed in the transition from absolutism to modern conditions.
We have thus followed the career of the Spanish Inquisition from its foundation to its suppression; we have examined its methods and its acts and have sought to appraise its influence and its share in the misfortunes which overwhelmed the nation. The conclusion can scarce be avoided that its work was almost wholly evil and that, through its reflex action, the persecutors suffered along with the persecuted. Yet who can blame Isabella or Torquemada or the Hapsburg princes for their share in originating and maintaining this disastrous instrument of wrong? The Church had taught for centuries that implicit acceptance of its dogmas and blind obedience to its commands were the only avenues to salvation; that heresy was treason to God, its extermination the highest service to God and the highest duty to man. This grew to be the universal belief and, when Protestant sects framed their several confessions, each one was so supremely confident of possessing the secret of the Divine Being and his dealings with his creatures that all shared the zeal to serve God in the same cruel fashion.
The Spanish Inquisition was only a more perfect and a more lasting institution than the others were able to fashion--as regards  witchcraft, indeed, a more humane and rational one, for no one can appreciate the service which in this matter it rendered to Spain who has not realized the horrors of the witchcraft trials in which Catholic and Protestant Europe rivalled each other. The spirit among all was the same, and none are entitled to cast the first stone, unless we except the humble and despised Moravian Brethren and the disciples of George Fox. The faggots of Miguel Servet bear witness to the stern resolve of Calvinism. Lutheranism has its roll-call of victims. Anglicanism, under Edward VI, in 1550 undertook to organize an Inquisition on the Spanish pattern, which burnt Joan of Kent for Arianism, and the writ De hæretico comburendo was not abolished until 1676. (146) Much as we may abhor and deplore this cruelty, we must acquit the actors of moral responsibility, for they but acted in the conscientious belief that they were serving the Creator and his creatures. The real responsibility can be traced to distant ages, to St. Augustin and St. Leo the Great and the fathers, who deduced, from the doctrine of exclusive salvation, that the obstinate dissident is to be put to death, not only in punishment for his sin but to save the faithful from infection. This hideous teaching, crystallized into a practical system, came, in the course of centuries, to be an essential feature of the religion which it distorted so utterly from the love and charity inculcated by the Founder. To dispute it was a heresy subjecting the disputant to the penalties of heresy, and not to enforce it was to misuse the powers entrusted by God to rulers for the purpose of establishing his kingdom on earth.
In Spain, under peculiar conditions, this resolve to enforce unity of belief, in the conviction that it was essential to human happiness here and hereafter, led to the framing of a system of so-called justice more iniquitous than has been evolved by the cruellest despotism; which placed the lives, the fortunes and the honor, not only of individuals but of their posterity, in the hands of those who could commit wrong without responsibility; which tempted human frailty to indulge its passions and its greed without restraint, and which subjected the population to a blind and unreasoning tyranny, against which the slightest murmur of complaint was a crime. The procedure which left the fate of the accused virtually in the hands of his judges was rendered doubly vicious by  the inviolable secrecy in which it was enveloped--a secrecy which invited injustice by shielding its perpetrators and enabling them to make a parade of benignant righteousness. It was the crowning iniquity of the Inquisition that it thus afforded to the evil-minded the amplest opportunity of wrong-doing. History affords no parallel to such a skilfully organized system, working relentlessly through centuries.
The inquisitors were men, not demons or angels, and when injustice and oppression were rife in the secular courts it would be folly not to expect them in the impenetrable recesses of the Holy Office. If we have occasionally met with instances of kindliness and genuine desire to do right, we have incidentally encountered the opposite too often for us to doubt its frequency. That the rulers of the Inquisition recognized the danger of this and sought to diminish it by moral influences is evident from the admirable prayer the utterance of which, by a carta acordada of April 13, 1600, was ordered daily after mass at the opening of the morning session. This implored the Holy Spirit to fill their hearts and guide their judgements, so that they might not be misled by ignorance or favor, or be corrupted by gifts or acceptance of persons; that their decisions might be in unison with His will, so that in the end they might earn eternal reward by well-doing. (147) Yet we might feel more confidence in the sincerity of this attempt to curb by moral influence the evil tendencies fostered by the system if there had been stern repression and punishment of official wrong-doing, instead of the habitual mercy which served as an encouragement.
After all, the great lesson taught by the history of the Inquisition
is that the attempt of man to control the conscience of his fellows reacts
upon himself; he may inflict misery but, in due time, that misery recoils
on him or on his descendants and the full penalty is exacted with interest.
Never has the attempt been made so thoroughly, so continuously or with
such means of success as in Spain, and never has the consequent retribution
been so palpable and so severe. The sins of the fathers have been visited
on the children and the end is not yet. A corollary to this is that the
unity of faith, which was the ideal of statesman and churchman alike in
the sixteenth century, is fatal to the healthful spirit of  competition
through which progress, moral and material, is fostered. Improvement was
impossible so long as the Holy See held a monopoly of salvation and, however
deplorable were the hatred and strife developed by the rivalry which followed
the Reformation, it yet was of inestimable benefit in raising the moral
standards of both sides, in breaking down the stubbornness of conservatism
and in rendering development possible. Terrible as were the wars of religion
which followed the Lutheran revolt, yet were they better than the stagnation
preserved in Spain through the efforts of the Inquisition. So long as human
nature remains what it is, so long as the average man requires stimulation
from without as well as from within, so long as progress is the reward
only of earnest endeavor, we must recognize that rivalry is the condition
precedent of advancement and that competition in good works is the most
beneficent sphere of human activity.
1. See the very interesting collection of papers published by the Ateneo Cientifico y Literario of Madrid under the title Oligarquia y Caciquismo como la forma actual de Gobierno en España; urgencia y modo de cambiarla (Madrid, 1903).
This Caciquism is described as " a despotism a hundred times worse than that of the absolute kings" (p. 33).
2. Reconstitucion y Europeizacion de España, pp. 113, 123, 289 (Madrid, 1900). --Ricardo Macías Picavea, El Problema nacional, p. 304 (Madrid, 1899).
Another eloquent exposition of the deplorable condition of public affairs in Spain is Doctor Madrazo's El Pueblo español ha muerto ? (Santander, 1903).
3. Relazioni Venete, Serie I, T. V, p. 463.
4. Clemencin, Elogio de la Reina Isabel, p. 302 (Madrid, 1821).
5. Cabrera, Relaciones, passim; Append, pp. 582-3.--Relazioni di Ambasoiadori Lucchesi, pp. 29, 31 (Lucca, 1903).
6. Cespedes y Meneses, Don Felipe Quarto, Lib. ii, cap. i, x.
7. A. Rodríguez Villa, La Corte y Monarquía de España, pp. 110 (Madrid, 1886).
8. Zanctornato, Relazione della Corte de España, pp. 76-82 (Cosmopoli, 1672).
9. Relazioni Venete, Serie I, T. V, p. 396.
10. The Córtes of 1570 complained of the sale of hidalguias, which were bought by the richer taxpayers, whose burden was thus thrown on the poor and miserable. To this Philip II replied that his necessities compelled him to it, but that more consideration would be shown in future.--Córtes de Cordova del año de setenta, fol. 5 (Alcalá, 1575).
By the censuses of 1768 and 1787 the exempt classes were--
11. Dávila, Vida de Felipe III, p. 216.
12. Libro de las Cincas Excelencias del Español que despueblan á España, fol. 163, 170 (Pamplona, 1629).
13. Representacion al Rey D. Felipe V dirigida al mas seguro aumento del Real Erario. Hecha por D. Miguel de Zavala y Auñon, pp. 7-35, 74-97 (Madrid, 1732).
It should be observed that in none of the descriptions of the burdens imposed on the peasantry is any allusion made to what perhaps was the most grievous of all, both in amount and method of collection--the tithe by which the enormous church establishment was supported. This was wholly beyond control by the secular power and was therefore left out of consideration.
In 1820, Dr. Sebastian de Miñano, in his Cartas del Pobrecito Holgazan, gives a graphic picture of the ecclesiastical burdens of the peasant--the first fruits, the tithes and the obligatory "almsgiving" to all the neighboring convents.-- Ochoa, Epistolario español, II, 616.
14. Jovellanos, Informe en el Expediente de Ley Agraria (Obras, VII, 165-8).
The trouble still exists. In 1898 the Chamber of Agriculture of Upper Aragon states that notwithstanding large subventions to railroads and highways the greater part of the population is as isolated as ever, and it urges the expenditure of 400 or 500 millions of pesetas to convert 250,000 kilometres of mule-track into cheap wagon roads.--Reconstitucion de España, pp. 24, 89.
15. Córtes de Leon y de Castilla, II, 344.--Jovellanos, Informe, pp. 48-80.
The exorbitant privileges of the Mesta were largely curtailed by the Córtes of Cádiz, but were promptly restored by Fernando VII, in a decree of October 2, 1514 (Coleccion de Cedulas etc., p. 170).
16. Zavala y Auñon, pp. 104-30.--Jovellanos, p.44.
17. Relazioni Lucchese, p. 29.--For the multifarious laws respecting the coinage see Autos Acordados, Lib. v, Tit. xxi.
18. Piscorsos apólóxicos (Coll. de Doc. inéd., LXXI, 220).
19. I owe this passage to Professor James Harvey Robinson's "Readings in European History," II, 25.
20. Colmeiro, Córtes de los antiguos Reinos, II, 223.
21. Relazioni Venete, Serie I, T. III, p. 256, 287; V, 18; VI, 360.
22. Relazioni Lucchese, pp. 58, 70.
23. Discurso político (Semanario erúdito, II, 143).
A modern writer attributes to the infusion of Saracen blood this characteristic--"este carácter indolente y apático, que nos impede llegar á tiempo en nuestras empresas, ó que no nos consiente llevarlas á termino bien cumplido."-- Madrazo, El pueblo español ha muerto? p. 29 (Santander, 1903).
24. Francisco Santos, El No Importe de España, pp. 149, 203 (Madrid, 1668).
25. Dávila, Vida de Felipe III, p. 216.
26. Pedro Fernández Navarrete, Discursos políticos, fol. 66 (Barcelona, 1621).
See also his later Conservation de Monarquias, Discurso xlvi (Madrid, 1626) where he states that there were thirty-two universities and more than four thousand grammar-schools where Latin was taught.
27. Semanário erúdito, XXVI, 108.--Jovellanos, Informe, p. 154.
28. Relazioni Lucchese, p. 89.
29. Semanário erúdito, VII, 167, 169.
30. Juan de Valera, Disertaciones y Judicios literários, p. 201 (Madrid, 1878).-- Reconstitucion de España, p. 29.
31. See the very instructive sketch by D. Antonio Rodríguez Villa, "Patiño y Campillo," Madrid, 1882.
32. Vida política y ministerial del Conde de Floridablanca. This, I believe, has never been printed. My copy is in MS.
33. Córtes de los antiguos Reinos, I, 605; II, 55, 66, 134, 140, 143.
34. Córtes de los antiguos Reinos, I, 2, 24, 42, 43, 51, 244, 246, 289, 291, 360-1, 470.--Fuero viejo, Lib. v, Tit. ii, ley 1; Lib. I, Tit. i, ley 3.
35. Córtes etc. Ill, 339-40.
36. Ibidem, 516-18.--Autos acordados, Lib. v, Tit. x, Auto 1.
37. Colmeiro, C6rtes, II, 88, 98, 121, 147, 163, 168, 180, 192, 199, 207.--C6rtes de Madrid del año de Setenta y tres, Peticion 57 (Alcalá. 1575).
38. Bleda, Coronica de los Moros, pp. 864, 1025.
39. Salazar, Crónica del Gran Cardenal de España, Lib. i, cap. 68 (Madrid, 1625).
40. Dávila, Vida de Felipe III, p. 216.
41. Cespedes y Meneses, Don Felipe Quarto, Lib, n, cap. 10.
42. Cartas de Jesuitas (Mem. hist. español, XIII, 86).
43. Autos Acordados, Lib. iv, Tit. i, Auto 4.
44. Llorente, Coleccion diplomática, p. 44.
45. Autos Acordados, Lib. v, Tit. x, Auto 3.
46. C. Trident. Sess. xxi, De Reform, cap. 2; Sess. xxiii, De Reform, cap. 4, 5, 7, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14; Sess. xxv, De Reg. et Mon. cap. 3.
47. Innocent. PP. XIII, Constit. Apostolici ministerii, 13 Maii, 1723. Confirmed by Benedict XIII, September 23, 1724 (Bullar. Roman. XIII, 60).
48. Semanário erúdito, X, 149-58.
49. Ibidem, VII, 172, 182-4; VIII, 231-33.
50. Novís. Recop., Lib. i, Tit. v, leyes 14, 15, 17, 18.
Under Carlos III the numbers of the clergy were:
|Beneficed clergy, vicars etc||51,408||42,707|
|Regular clergy, males||55,453||47,515|
|Do. Do. females||27,665||24,559|
|Servants, sacristans, acolytes, etc||25,248||16,376|
|Treasurers of religious houses||8,552||4,127|
51. Relazioni Venete, Serie I, T. V, p. 19.
52. Ricordi sulla Spagna nell'anno 1853 (Ibidem, III, 469).
53. Conservacion de Monarquías, Discurso XLV.
54. Bibl. national, MSS., D, 118, fol. 146, n 49.
55. Relazioni Venete, Serie I, T. V, p. 450.
56. Ibidem, T. VI, p. 378.--Zanctornato, p. 88.
The subsidio was a grant from Paul IV to arm sixty galleys, a purpose which was speedily forgotten. The excusado was a grant from Paul V empowering the king to claim in each parish the tithe of the largest tithe-payer, but it led to difficulties in collecting and was commuted.
57. Archive de Simancas, Inquisicion de Granada, Expedientes varios, Leg. 2.
58. Jovellanos, Informe, p. 88.
59. Marina, Teoría de las Córtes, P. i, cap. xiii, n. 24 (Madrid, 1820).
The burden of the tithe was the same in France under the ancien régime. As a recent writer remarks "Les dîmes étaient une des plus lourdes, peutêtre même celle qui pesait sur les campagnes de la façon la plus générate et la plus fâcheuse... on ne devrait pas oublier que le droit en lui-même était, le plus souvent, bien moins odieux, moins funeste, que les abus auxquels il donnait lieu ou servait de prétexte."--Edme Champion, La Séparation de l'Eglise et de l'Etat en 1794 (Paris, 1903).
The tithes and first fruits were by no means the only ecclesiastical exaction which impoverished the husbandman. An anonymous Presbítero secular who, in 1828, vigorously defended the temporalities of the Church, candidly admits the oppressiveness of some of its revenues. Among those enumerated was one known as Luctuosa--the right to the best head of cattle on the death of the peasant. The lay lords had mostly commuted this for a small money payment, but the clergy fanned it out and the farmers exacted it with the utmost rigor, not only on the death of the head of a family but on that of every member, so that the survivors, in the hour of bereavement, were often stripped of the means of cultivating their holdings. In 1787 the people of the see of Lugo, after a long struggle, obtained from Carlos III a decree restricting it to the death of the head of the family and commuting it to a money payment of sixty reales when four head of cattle were owned and lesser sums for a smaller number.--Historia y Origen de las Rentas de la Iglesia de España, pp. 90-7 (Madrid, 1828).
This exaction was by no means confined to Spain. See Burn's Law Dictionary s. v. Heriot and Du Cange s. vv. Hereotum, Luctuosa.
60. Breve Memoria (Döllinger, Beiträge zur polit. kirchl. u. Cultur-Geschichte, III, 203).
61. C. Hispalens. ann. 1512, cap. 13, 17, 23, 26, 27 (Aguirre, T. V).--Barrantes, Aparato para la Hist. de Extremadura, I, 469.
62. De justa Hæreticorum punitione, Lib. iii, cap. 5.
63. Comentarios, fol. 167, 260.
64. Archive de Simancas, Patronato Real, Inq., Leg. único, fol. 76.
65. Synod. Oriolan., arm. 1600, cap. xxviii (Aguirre, VI, 457).
66. Alphonsus a Castro adversus Hæreses, Lib. i, cap. xii.
67. Relazioni Venete, Serie I, T. V, p. 79.
68. Col. de Doc. inéd., V, 83, 85.
69. Bleda, Corónica de los Moros, p. 910.--See Bonifacii PP. VIII. Bull. Unam Sanctam (Extrav. Commun., Lib. i, Tit. vii cap. 1). Also the De Regimine Principum, Lib. iii cap. x, xiii, xix, which passes under the name of Aquinas.
70. Picatoste, La Grandeza y Decadencia de España, III, 192 (Madrid, 1887).
71. Relazioni Venete, Serie I, T. II, p. 208.
72. Dávila, Hist. de Felipe III, Lib. ii, cap. lvii.
73. Bulario de la Orden de Santiago, Lib. v, fol. 93, 95, 97.
74. Relazioni Venete, Serie I, T. I, pp. 341-2; II, 61, 213; III, 222-3.
75. Sandoval, Vida del Emp. Carlos V, II, 740, 777, 792 (Barcelona, 1625).
76. Gachard, Correspondance de Philippe II, Tom. II, 27, 44, 58; III, 588.
77. Pallavicini, Hist. Conc. Trident., Lib. xiv, cap. xi, n. 2.
See also the letter of St. Pius V, April 26, 1569, to the Duke of Anjou (Henry III) congratulating him on his victory over the Huguenots at Jarnac, and urging him to show himself inexorable to those who should plead for mercy towards heretics and rebels.--Pii Quinti Epistolar. Lib. v, p. 168 (Antverpiæ, 1640).
78. Testamento y Codicilo del Rey Don Felipe II, p. 14 (Madrid, 1882).
79. Relazioni Lucchese, p. 16.
80. In his instructions to Colonel Lockhart, his envoy to France after the negotiation of the treaty of 1656, Cromwell tells him to explain to Cardinal Mazarin " what my principles are which led me to a closure with France rather than with Spaine. . . .viz. that the one gives libertie of conscience to the professors of the Protestant religion and the other persecuteing it with losse of life and estate."-- Prof. C. H. Firth, in English Historical Review, October, 1906, p. 744.
81. Coleccion de Tratados de Paz; Phelipe IV, P. VII, p. 685.
82. MSS. of Bodleian Library, Arch Seld., 130.
83. A. de Castro adv. Hæreses, Lib. I, cap. xiii.
84. Comentarios, fol. 209.
Spain was not exceptional in this. In 1700, a pastoral of Archbishop Precipiano of Mechlin describes with equal energy this profanation of saints' days. --Collectio Synodorum Archiep. Mechliniensis, II, 434 (Mechlinæ, 1829).
85. Relazioni Venete, Serie I, T. V, p. 18.--In 1565, Giovanni Soranzo makes the same statement and both remark on the facility with which Spanish troops passed over to the infidel.--Ibid, p. 82.
86. Azpilcueta de Oratione, cap. v, n. 25-35.
It was not until 1772 that Carlos III prohibited, in the churches of Madrid, the dances and gigantones and tarascas, or great pasteboard figures of giants and serpents, in the processions, as causing disorder and interfering with devotion; and in 1780 this was extended over the whole kingdom.--Novís. Recop., Lib. i, Tit. i, ley 12.
87. Santos, El no Importe, pp. 107-31.--For a similar description by Juan de Zabaleta see his "El dia de fiesta," Obras, p. 166 (Madrid, 1728). The El no Importe was reprinted in 1787.
These profanities were not confined to Spain and were condemned by the Council of Tours in 1583 and by Archbishop Precipiano of Mechlin, in 1700.-- Concil. Turonens., ann. 1583, Tit. xv (Harduin X, 1424).--Collect. Synod. Mechlin., II, 436).
88. Bibliothèque nationale de France, fonds Dupuy, no. 589, fol, 30.
89. Relacion del Auto de fe de 1733. Discurso isagogico, § 2 (Lima, 1733).
90. P. Ricardo Cappa, S. J., La Inquisicion española, Madrid, 1888.
91. Don A. Rodríguez Villa has printed the essential portions of this memorial in the Boletin for July--September 1906, pp. 87-103. It is anonymous and without date, though he tells us that a note on the MS., in a contemporary hand, attributes it to P. Hernando de Salazar or to D. Diego Serrano de Silva, of the Suprema. It is unquestionably by a member of the Suprema, for no one else would have such knowledge of the internal affairs of the Inquisition or discourse of them so freely, even to the sovereign. Allusion to the successes of the Dutch in Brazil assign it to the time, between 1620 and 1630, when there was so much discussion as to the Portuguese New Christians (see Vol. Ill, p. 275), to which this paper was doubtless a contribution.
92. Oligarquía y Caciquismo, pp. 22, 679 (Madrid, 1903).
93. Doctor Madrazo, while deploring the antinational policy of the ecclesiastical establishment, bears emphatic testimony to the individual virtues of the clergy, regular and secular and their efforts to realize, each in his own sphere, the ideal of Christianity. He attributes their influence on Spanish policy to the power possessed by the papacy of precipitating through them at any moment a Carlist revolt.--El Pueblo español ha muerto? pp. 140-6 (Santander, 1903).
In a very thoughtful paper, Professor Rafael Altamira and his colleagues of the University of Oviedo allude to the theocratic reaction which opposes all progress in the direction of toleration and culture and which threatens a civil war that would be the end of Spain.--Oligarquía y Caciquismo, p. 192.
94. Relazioni Venete, Serte I, T. VI, p. 371; T. V, p. 288.--Spicilegio Vaticano, I, 461.--Relazioni Lucchese, p. 21.
95. Ortí y Lara, La Inquisition, p. xiv.--Macias Picavea, El Problema, p. 229.
96. In the Toledo auto of January 1, 1651, in the sentence of Ana de Cervantes for sorcery, there is a wholly superfluous account of how she had "tratado torpemente con otras mugeres como si esta fuese hombre, usando para ello un instrumento que llaman baldres." Archivo hist. nacional, Inq. de Toledo, Leg. i.
97. Corella, Praxis Confessionis, P. ii, Perorat. n. 3.--Picatoste, III, 113-23, 158, 162.--Villa, La Corte y Monarquía, p. xvi.
98. Chapters from the Religious History of Spain, p. 102.
99. Döllinger u. Reusch, Moral-Streitigkeiten, I, 319.
100. For this social anarchy see Picatoste, III, 86-9.
101. Roda, Dictamen á una Consulta (MS. penes me).
102. Archive de Simancas, Inq., Lib. 69, fol. 2, 8.
103. Corpo Diplomatico Portugues, III, 247.
104. Relazioni Venete, Serie I, T. II, p. 40; T. III, p. 252; T. V, pp. 22, 83, 144, 288, 392, 485; T. VI, pp. 367, 412.
105. Erasmi Epistolæ, Auctarium, p. 114 (Londoni, 1642).
106. Mariana, Hist. de España, Lib. xxiv, cap. xvii.
107. Archive de Simancas, Inq. de Barcelona, Córtes, Leg. 17, fol. 74.
108. Historia verdadera, III, 509
109. Die Kirchengeschichte von Spanien, Bd. III, Abt ii, p. 74.--Cf. Hefele, Der Cardinal Ximenes, pp. 327 sqq.
Father Gams exposes his ignorance when he tells us that he excludes the burnings for other crimes than heresy, as if there were such, except the rare cases of unnatural crime in Aragon. He even implies that the Inquisition burnt for usury and smuggling.
110. Hist. crít., T. IX, pp. 209, 211, 213, 214 (Madrid, 1822).
The total of Llorente's extravagant guesses, from the foundation of
the Inquisition to 1808, is:
|Burnt in person||31,912|
|Burnt in effigy||17,659|
|Burnt in effigy||18,049|
|Condemned to galleys or prison||288,214|
111. Hist. de los Judíos de España, III, 492-3.
112. Procedimientos de la Inquisicion, I, 116-17 (Madrid, 1886).
113. Pulgar, Cronica, P. ii, cap. Lxxvii.
114. L. Marinæi Siculi de Reb. Hispan., Lib. xix.--Illescas, Hist. Pontifical, P. II, Lib. vi, c. xix.--Mariana, Hist. de España, Lib. xxiv, cap. xvii.--Páramo, p. 139.--Garibay, Comp. Hist., Lib. xviii, cap. xvii.
115. Hist. de los Reyes Católicos, cap. xliv.
116. Zuñiga, Annales de Sevilla, año 1524, n. 3 --Varflora, Compendio de Sevilla, P. ii, cap. 1.
117. Bernáldez, ubi sup.
118. Lalaing, Voyage de Philippe le Beau (Gachard, Voyages des Souverains, I, 203).
119. Zurita, Añales, Lib. xx, cap. xlix. The fact that so careful an historian as Zurita, who sought everywhere for documentary evidence, had no official statistics to cite shows that none such existed in the Suprema relating to the early years of the Inquisition.
120. Relazioni Venete, Serie I, T. II, p. 40.
121. Archivo hist. nacional, Inq. de Toledo, Leg. 262.--It is possible that these figures may be only of residents of Ciudad Real. Páramo (p. 170) states the numbers for the tribunal, during its two years of existence, at 52 relaxations in person, 220 in effigy and 183 reconciliations. The record just cited gives for Ciudad Real, from 1484 to 1531, 113 relaxed in person, 129 in effigy, 16 reconciled, 11 penanced, 19 absolved, 3 discharged on bail and 8 of which the sentence is not stated--all, apparently, residents of the town.
122. Relacion de la Inquisicion Toledana (Boletin, XI, 292 sqq).
The Córdova tribunal also burned 90 residents of Chillon, who had been duped by the prophetess of Herrera (Ibidem, p. 308).
123. Hist. crit., IX, 210.
124. See Appendix of Vol. I. It must be borne in mind that, in the early years, small autos were held elsewhere than in the centres. Thus, in the Libro Verde there are allusions to them in Barbastro, Huesca, Monzon, Lérida and Tamarit (Revista de España, CVI, 250-1, 263-4, 266). The aggregate for these, however, would make little difference in the totals.
125. Libro Verde (Revista de España, CVI,
570-83). The relaxations by years were:
|1483-- 1||1495-- 9||1512--4||1542--1|
|1485-- 4||1496-- 1||1520--1||1543--1|
|1489-- 2||1500-- 5||1526--1||1563--1|
|1490-- 1||1502-- 2||1528--2||1565--1|
|1494-- 1||1511-- 5||1539--1|
126. Carbonell de Gestis Hæret. (Col. de Doc. de la C. de Aragon, XXVII, XXVIII).
127. Archivo hist. nacional, Inq. de Valencia, Leg. 98, 300.
128. Cronicon de Valladolid (Col. de Doc. inéd., XIII, 176-9, 187).
129. Archivo de Simancas, Inq., Lib. 595.
130. MSS. of Library of Univ. of Halle, Yc, 20, T. I.
131. Archivo hist. national, Inq. de Toledo, Leg. 1.
132. Archivo de Simancas, Inq., Lib. 1020.
133. Royal Library of Berlin, Qt. 9548.
To illustrate the discrepancy bet-ween the facts as stated above and
the reckless computations of Llorente, which have been so largely accepted,
it may not be amiss to compare the facts with the corresponding figures
resulting from his system of calculation, for the tribunals and periods
|Toledo||1483-1501.||Relaxed in person||297||666|
|Relaxed in effigy||600||433|
|Reconciled under edicts||5200|
|Do.||1575-1610.||Relaxed in person||11||252|
|Relaxed in effigy||15||120|
|Do.||1648-1794.||Relaxed in person||8||297|
|Relaxed in effigy||63||129|
|Penanced||1094||1188 up to 1746.|
|Saragossa||1485-1502.||Relaxed in person||124||584|
|Relaxed in effigy||32||392|
|Barcelona||1488-98.||Relaxed in person||23||432|
|Relaxed in effigy||430||316|
|Reconciled under edicts||304|
|Valencia||1485-1592.||Relaxed in person||643||1538|
|Relaxed in effigy||479||869|
|Vallodolid||1485-92.||Relaxed in person||50||424|
|Relaxed in effigy||6||312|
|Majorca||1488-1691.||Relaxed in person||139||1778|
|Relaxed in effigy||482||978|
|All tribunals||1721-27.||Relaxed in person||77||238|
|Relaxed in effigy||74||119|
An even more conclusive comparison is furnished by the little tribunal of the Canaries. After 1524, Llorente includes it among the tribunals by which he multiplies the number of yearly victims assigned to each. He thus makes it responsible, from first to last, for 1118 relaxations in person and 574 in effigy. Millares (Historia de la Inquisicion en las Islas Canarias, III, 164-8) has printed the official list of the quemados during the whole career of the tribunal, and they amount in all to eleven burnt in person and a hundred and seven in effigy. The number of the latter is accounted for by the fact that, to render its autos interesting, it was often in the habit of prosecuting in absentia Moorish and negro slaves who escaped to Africa after baptism and who thus were constructively relapsed.
Dr. Schäfer (Beiträge, I, 157), after an exhaustive examination of the accessible records, has collected references to 2100 persons tried for Protestantism during the second half of the sixteenth century. Protestants were punished with special severity, but in these cases the total of relaxations in person was about 220 and in effigy about 120, and all these, as we have seen, were largely foreigners.
134. Bernáldez, Hist. de los Reyes Católicos, cap, xliv.
135. Archive de Simancas, Inq., Lib. 979, fol. 40
136. Garau, La Fee triunfante, pp. 86, 91.
It should not be forgotten that it was only in 1790 that in England the burning of women for high and petty treason was commuted to drawing and hanging by 30 Geo, III, cap, 48 (Statutes at Large, XVI, 57).
137. Juan de Valera, Del Influjo de la Inquisition (Disertaciones, p. 108).-- Menéndez y Pelayo, II, 707.--Ortí y Lara, La Inquisition, p. 270.--P. Ricardo Cappa, La Inquisition española, p. 146.
138. Estudio del Maestre Nebrija, pp. 53-7, 97 (Madrid, 1879).
139. Historía de España, Prólogo
140. Las Cinco Excelencias del Español, fol. 49, 52 (Pamplona, 1629).
141. See tracts by Laurean Pérez of Salamanca and Gerónimo López of Saragossa in Bodleian Library, A, Subt. 16.
142. Revista crítica de Historia y Literatura, T. VI, p. 6.
143. Ochoa, Epistolario español, II, 182.
144. Elógio de la Reina Católica Doña Isabel, p. 51 (Madrid, 1821.)
145. Del Influjo de la Inquisicion (Disertaciones, pp. 108, 121).
146. Strype's Memorials, II, 214-15.--Burnet's Reformation, Vol. II, Collections, n. 33.--xxix Car. II, c. 9 (Statutes at Large, II, 390).
147. Archivo de Simancas, Inq., Lib. 942, fol. 53.--MSS. of Royal Library of Copenhagen, 218b, p. 200.--See Appendix.