[37] Teoli: Life of Vincenzo Perreri. Rome, 1825; Naples, 1837.
[38] The translator of these pages was residing at Rome at the period of this man's apprehension, and was credibly informed that the statement of the cruelties; and atrocities he had practised towards a boy, an orphan nephew, were so appalling, as to draw tears from the eyes of Gregory XVI., then reigning Pontiff.
CHAPTER IX.
MY CONVERSION.
The aversion which from this time I conceived for everything savouring of Romanism,—pope, cardinals, bishops, priests, and friars,—proceeded, no doubt, from the change which for several years had been working in my mind. I already was no longer a papist, for I had long ceased to believe in many doctrines which are matters of faith in the Romish Church. I will now state how this was brought about.
While holding the head professorship of theology, in the college of Santa Maria di Gradi, at Viterbo, and advocating and teaching, with great zeal, the Romish doctrine, a very nourishing school, not only of Dominican students, of which the college consisted, but likewise of other friars and priests, used daily to attend my lectures, and be present at our circolo, or "circle," as we call our meeting for scholastic exercise, when a theological proposition is given, and defended by a professor and a student, while other professors and students raise objections. The exercise is in Latin, and in the logical form of reasoning as held by Aristotle.
I had ordered that this exercise should take place three times a-week; the theological lectures were five in number during that period, and it sometimes fell to my turn to defend, while the others objected. One day I was defending the doctrine of transubstantiation; one of the best disciples in the school, whose name I feel a pleasure in mentioning—Father Baldassare Conti, a Roman, who afterwards filled the professor's chair of theology in the Minerva, at Rome, with much honour, was on my side.
The question was, "Whether the bread and wine in the sacrament of the Eucharist are, in virtue of the words of consecration, actually and substantially changed into the body and blood of Christ, together with his soul and his divinity." We maintained the affirmative, and three or four others, with fictitious earnestness, denied the proposition; advancing arguments which they had the precaution to assure us beforehand were all borrowed from the heretics. The contest went off, as it invariably did; we were, of course, right, and our opponents wrong. The reasoning of my good and clever Conti, and that which I contributed myself, were the ne plus ultra, for the school, and even elicited uproarious applause. The heretics were discomfited, the Roman Catholics triumphant. We were the two heroes who had gained the battle, the laurel crown alone was wanting. Who after our arguments could possibly have doubted a doctrine so boldly asserted, so powerfully demonstrated? Who would have dared to have sided with the heretics, viz. with those who denied transubstantiation? I believe not a shadow of doubt entered the mind of any one excepting myself. In the midst of this universal satisfaction, I alone remained unconvinced. To me, the answers to the objections appeared feeble and inadequate. I was disquieted within me. I asked the young Conti how he was pleased with the "circle?" whether any of our answers seemed to him to want weight?
"I am pleased with the arguments I brought forward," he replied, "and still more so with those that you yourself advanced. Indeed, I am not aware that more could possibly have been said. But after all, the matter is a mystery which cannot be explained by reasoning; faith must come to our aid. Henry Moore, a celebrated Englishman, has well observed, as Erasmus relates, Crede quod habes, et habes,—'Believe you receive, and you do receive.'"