II.

PRIESTS' RELIGION.

HUMAN AUTHORITY AND INVENTION versus CONSCIENCE AND THE BIBLE.

The Scriptures are the only standard of Christian faith and practice: every one is at liberty to examine them; but no one is at liberty to decline this examination: and though we may receive the help of others, we may not rest on their authority, (which is Man-worship ;) nor receive as religion, what is not in the Scriptures, (which is Willworship.)

ACHLLLI VERSUS NEWMAN: THE VERDICT

VINDICATED.*

THE desperate attempt of the perverted Apologist for Romanism, to bolster up the cause of his Church, by the defamation of those who have left its communion, having met with a signal failure; a more desperate attempt has been made by various organs of public opinion, and especially by the Roman Lamp, Vindicator, &c., to asperse the Judge and Jury by which Newman was tried. The animadversions that have appeared in Protestant, neutral, and Catholic organs, have been published with diligence, to vilify our free institutions and to poison the public mind: the nature of these attempts, and the grounds for these allegations against Judge and Jury, we shall examine in a subsequent investigation, for which we shall be better prepared after examining the evidence adduced in the trial.

But we may here hold up in due prominence, one "W. F. Finlason, Esq., of the Middle Temple, Barrister-at-law," a pettifogging special pleader, who has favoured the world with a leaden pamphlet, with a long introduction and notes, vainly endeavouring to disparage Protestanism and the Attorney-General, against whom Mr. Finlason seems to have a heavy grudge because he is a cleverer fellow than himself. This learned gentlemen has for a motto, a slander on Satan,-"The Devil hates all Christians but especially monks:" now if this means that the Devil hates monks, we cannot coincide, for monkery is one of his own institutions: it may, however, mean, that-the Devil hates all Christians, but especially monks hate them. Mr. Finlason loves monks out of perverted spite we

The substance of a Lecture, delivered in the Odd Fellows' Hall, Birmingham. By the Rev. BREWIN GRANT, B.A.

suppose, against the personage in question: so to retrieve the honour of monkery, and destroy the credit of trial by jury, to strike a feeble blow at Protestanism, and gain laurels for his Church, he has joined the crowd of lesser orators, in crying down Achilli and Lord Campbell.

It is time that we, on our side, said something to silence this last dying effort. The motives then for entertaining this enquiry are, we hope, sufficiently plain and reasonable: it has been forced upon us by those whose silence would have been becoming, who have employed the admissions and accusations of lax and questionable Protestants to prop up a cause of unblushing slander and the foulest personal abuse: men who whilst finding their evidence in the police courts of Viterbo and Naples, and even the detestable secret tortures or trials of the Inquisition, boldly impugn the public trial in this country, wherein witnesses have to stand before free men, and where counsel on each side has free speech, where the judge is guided by written law, not by personal caprice,-a trial to which the press is admitted, and where the public may witness the whole proceedings: the verdict of such a trial shall be nothing but a scrap of paper, obtained at the instance of the Pope's private secretary, Mr. Talbot, from the smuggled proceedings of the Inquisition, and sworn to as a correct copy by John Gordon and Nicholas Darnall, of the Birmingham Oratory; the spiritual underlings of the plaintiff; this pitiful report, not of trial and evidence, but of arbitrary and infallible assertion, such is the decisive evidence which shall convince freemen, whilst they slander the only institutions under which a fair and honourable trial can be secured.

It is time then to come forward and boldly vindicate both Judge and Jury, as well as the man whose character is now again thrust at with the poisoned weapons of Romish detraction, through the sides of those who have honourably acquitted him. Nor shall we satisfy ourselves with bare assertion, or impassioned declamation, but shew plainly, that the boldest evidence is unblushing infamy, which recoils with tenfold force, not on the brazen women who uttered it, but on the Holy Mother Church in whose name they were summoned as victims to be offered up on the altar of their own dishonour.

In many of the crimes alleged against Achilli, no evidence at all was adduced, and we may, therefore, fairly assume, that those at least were not proved: we shall then proceed to examine first,-the main charges attempted to be maintained, and the chief witnesses in support of them: secondly, the chief attacks made on the verdict, on the Judge and Jury by the press: thirdly, the use made of them by the Romanists, and the conduct that would have been appropriate in their case, together with the lessons taught about their own Church and the method in which they should learn to conduct their controversies in the future. We shall confine the present enquiry to the first question, the charges attempted to be maintained, the evidence and witnesses by which they were supported:-how far such evidence required any other verdict (as is boldly assumed) than the one that was given.

FIRST. The main charges attempted to be maintained, and the chief witnesses in support of them. In this part of our enquiry, we shall incur the demure condemnation of those who having banished Achilli and

the jury into the wilderness, observe, with great modesty, that the sooner the whole affair is forgotten the better;-they do not wish their words forgotten, but to leave a moral horror of undefined sinfulness about the name of Achilli; not to reproduce the evidence, it is so bad, but to forget it all, which would be better for them.

Notwithstanding this, we hope to be as delicate as the subject will permit, or rather as is possible from examining the refuse of Italy, trained under priests to destroy the reputation of another, without at all endangering their own, which is quite invulnerable, though not irreproachable. The first and strongest case, in evidence, is that of a young woman, aged 18, in Viterbo, in 1831, the whole rests upon her own word, and forms a very curious case.

Miss Elena Valente, now a married woman, averred that Dr. Achilli visiting at the house of her mistress, had many opportunities for the space of a month to lay siege to her honour, and in which he completely failed because she believed it to be "an absolute sin: " but she altered her opinion on the subject, and so paid him a visit at the convent, because she says, it is the custom with gentlemen to give presents to servants, and he sent for her to receive the present. Therefore, she went, for though she had learned his qualities, she was neither afraid of trusting herself again in his presence, nor ashamed to receive a present from one who had so insulted her.

She gives two reasons for going to him for this present, one that he beckoned her; the other that he sent for her-now if she had been a modest person and had any regard for propriety, neither a beckoning nor a message would have been attended to: either way she condemns herself. And there is no reason why in this case his temptations should have been more successful than when they were formerly alone in solitude. would have been as easy for Dr. Achilli to have sent the present, as to have sent for her to receive it; and she had been warned before by his conduct; therefore, her going was either a willing acquiescence in his criminal intentions, or her account of his previous improprieties was altogether a falsehood.

It

The only thing she was disappointed in and dissatisfied with, was, not the loss of her honour, which she seems to have courted, but the smallness of the present which she so ardently coveted: accordingly we have two complaints on this head, given with the reckless indecency of an abandoned woman :-" He gave me a silk handkerchief, which was older than himself," she is quite a critical quiz on the subject; no modesty, no shame, but only the price was too little. The repetition of this complaint is more striking, though it does not contain a greater improbability; for unless the Dr. wished to expose himself, he would not have given an old handkerchief, with perhaps his initials on: whilst her reception of this was settling the little bill, and striking a balance, though as usual with a little grumbling. We do not understand the lady's contempt for his age, since one who in 1852 is only fifty, could not have been very old in 1831. And this little circumstance (in which, no doubt, she had been drilled, as they all compared notes and arranged their tales,) is a proof of what Dr. Achilli said, that he had never seen the woman, or, at least, that she had never seen him, for girls of eighteen, do not reckon men of twenty very

old. But what impression does this answer give to her moral character and trustworthiness-" he gave me a handkerchief which was older than himself" would this circumstance of his age have been prominent in the memory of a reputable woman?

It is not mended by the second edition of the complaint-" Did he give you any other presents, besides the silk handkerchief? (Elena Valente.) Yes, and beautiful presents they were-three sausages! The sausages were given at the same time as the handkerchief." These, of course,

were not German but Italian sausages, and were spiced for a little laugh ter, at the stinginess not the wickedness of the accused; only think of this lady's tears at the loss of her honour, and her contempt preserved hot for twenty years at this acquisition of three sausages: this one course spoils the whole dinner, some Ahithophel must have put his foot into the counsels of these astute Italians, to smuggle three sausages in a pockethandkerchief, as a likely present from a gentlemen to a lady: we hope she enjoyed them, though she says nothing about their age and flavour: if she preserved them for the rarity of the present, they should have been presented to Father Newman, as a lasting trophy of "the logical inconsistency of the Protestant view."

The disappointment of the lady is, however, at its climax in the third and last complaint. "Did he ever give you any other presents? He often promised but did not perform. He said, he would give me an umbrella, but has never done so." Well never mind, you had the sausages, and that is some consolation; but either Achilli's taste or your invention is very clumsy and circumscribed in the way of presents and promises, ranging from a handkerchief to an umbrella, which last, like the former, ought to have been filled with sausages.

Is there any man in his senses, who believes the first present, and that Achilli took to the room by this sacristy this elegant parcel, and that the good honest woman marched off in triumph with her predestined present: is it not ridiculously improbable and does it not impugn her whole testimony?

Although she had just gone to live at home with her parents in Viterbo, in order to be near and get presents, she never told her mother, and, therefore, must have eaten the sausages in private, or told a lie about them; and she either never used the pocket-handkerchief, but kept it as a private charm, the relic of a saint, or would have to trump up a new tale at washing day. How anybody knows anything about the whole affair now, and why she was applied to, having kept it all so secret for twenty years, we shall enquire presently.

But what impression must have been made on her mind by this stinginess and a pocket-handkerchief older than the accused, together with the umbrella which she did not receive? Did she abandon the hoary sinner? No! he sent for her at his relations and she went, this time for pure love, without any eye to presents; giving only this reason to the Attorney-General,-"it is very well known that a little affection springs out of such an event." Is not this describing her own character in letters of brass; would not the outrage of which she accuses Achilli, have filled a virtuous woman, who feared absolute sin," with the utmost fear and abhorrence? But no, "Dr. Achilli had told me, when you can, come and see me; and

when I could I did;" and the only necessity for this invitation, which she eagerly accepted, was her own modesty, for she says, "it is not permitted to the woman" to be foremost, and regretting this defect of privilege she observes, with matronly delicacy, "girl as I was, I could not ask him." And such as we are, we cannot believe you, and in the words of a great oratorian declare,-"I don't believe a word of it,-they do not dote they lie, they dote who hear them."

One quality in Elena Valente we must admire, her forgiving generosity; for besides that " a little affection springs out of such an event," as is very well known" to her and her tribe, her affection was very great,"I became so fond of him, that I regretted very much his going away from the place." Then how came she, with such affection to bear witness against him, was it, that love, the best things being corrupted, becomes the worst, even hatred? Was it, that the gay deceiver left no umbrella behind him, not even a receipt for sausages, that she might retain the affections of her present honoured husband by cookery if not by honesty? We will not, however, wrong the immaculate lady, it was the priests who made her false to her first love, they having no respect for her second, and being willing to embitter her married life, in order to support the Church on the ruins of private reputations and the peace of families.

"My curate was the first who spoke to me on the subject of this case. He sent for me and asked me if I knew anything of Dr. Achilli. I answered, why do you ask me?' and he replied, 'never mind.' I then said, never mind! but what for? Is it for my own good?" She still thought of the presents, and, perhaps, expected to hear of what no body heard of before-the missing umbrella. There is great consistency about the woman's character, she has two leading features, love of lovers and presents. "Is it for my own good?"-will there be four sausages this time? And what was the priest's inducement? "He said, 'it is for the honour of the Holy Mother Church-for the honour of God.'' Was ever a greater insult offered to the Divine Majesty, ever a greater proof of the suspicious nature of evidence evoked under such auspices?

"Did you ask the priest's leave to come? He told me I ought to come here." Now what would she have got by refusing to come-would it have been for her own good? Was she not poor and superstitious,-in the priest's power and forced by a more influential subpoena than is issued from our courts; not only forced to come, but forced to take the side she did, and undergo six months schooling, comparing notes and cramming for the occasion?

But the question she asked the priests, all the priests in Italy and in Birmingham oratory could not answer if they sat in synod at Oscott altogether, till the youngest became greyheaded, namely," why do you ask me?" What led them to pitch on this woman, for "she never told her love," except to her confessor, who "never says nothing to nobody," it being all sacred there: and besides her confessor is dead, now doing penance in purgatory, for not denouncing Achilli, or for telling tales out of school.

By the way, this woman is "an unfortunate woman," as they softly say of her, when they speak hardly of Achilli, whom she "loved not