Luis de Leon, Professor of Scripture in the University of Salamanca, was apprehended and imprisoned in the Inquisition, for making a version of the Song of Solomon for his private use. For this heinous crime, he was condemned to solitary confinement for no less than five years. The professors of the Hebrew and Chaldean languages, and of Rhetoric and Greek, in the same University, were likewise arrested and imprisoned by the holy tribunal, for publishing works eminently calculated to improve the mind, and advance the literature of their country.
The Inquisition, indeed, "has at all times evinced towards learned men the greatest enmity, and has driven many to the brink of the precipice through its absurd and violent conduct, or caused them to separate from the Roman Catholic Church, particularly when they have been animated by more than ordinary zeal. Aonius Palearius, whose singular merit, and disastrous end wrest from historians the most lively sentiments of compassion, may serve as an example of this fatal truth. His merit was universally acknowledged, not only on the score of philosophy, of which he was a professor in Milan, when he was arrested, and where he had besides published an estimable Latin poem, on the immortality of the soul, as well as several orations in the same language, but also as far as regards theology, which, notwithstanding he was a secular, and married, he possessed in an eminent degree. Many cardinals, and even Pope Paul IV., honoured him with their friendship; and Philip II. granted him certain privileges, and ordered a large salary to be assigned him for his subsistence. His zeal was particularly displayed in drawing up a charge, or, as he calls it, a declaration against the Roman Pontiffs, as corrupters of discipline, which he addressed to Charles V. and the three other Christian princes, in order to excite attention to this subject on the convocation of a general council, at that time agitated, and which ended in that of Trent. This paper was in the meantime deposited in the hands of his friends, in case he should previously die, or the Inquisition, which had already threatened him, should sacrifice him, as it afterwards did. [24]
"Without entering into a long enumeration of all the sciences, as well as of the persons who have been eminent therein, it would not be possible to give a complete idea of the individuals who have suffered by the proceedings of the Inquisition; John Reuchlin, in Germany—Picus, Prince of Mirandula, in Italy—Peter Ramus in France—and Desiderius Erasmus, every where—had to endure the lash of this infernal fury; yet no nation has thereby suffered so much as Spain. In the seventeenth century, father Pedro de Soto, a wise and pious writer—father Juan de Villagarcia, professor of theology at Oxford—and in general all the learned men who at that time visited England, became its victims. Father José de Sigüenza, a diligent and polished historian—and in more recent times, many distinguished individuals, by their acquirements in history, theology, mathematics, politics, philology, &c., became objects of Inquisitorial vengeance. Finally, within late years, not a few enlightened persons of literary pursuits and known probity, have had to drag a miserable existence within the walls of the Inquisition, on account of denunciations ridiculous and chimerical, or have been admonished or threatened by it. Even in the way of artists of any pre-eminence, this tribunal has placed obstacles. A navigator, who, by discovering a new route, had performed a voyage in less than the customary time—a master of the first rudiments, who, by his genius and constancy, had brought forward and improved his scholars quicker than his competitors—and even the handicraftsman who has enjoyed more credit than others of his own class—have incurred the displeasure of the Inquisition, and been entangled in its toils."
"The Inquisition," says Dr. M'Crie, "was not satisfied with preventing heretical men and books from coming into Spain, it exerted itself with equal zeal in preventing orthodox horses from being exported out of the kingdom. Incredible or ludicrous as this may appear to the reader, nothing can be more unquestionable than the fact, and nothing demonstrates more decidedly the unprincipled character of the Inquisitors, as well as those who had recourse to its agency to promote their political schemes. As early as the fourteenth century it had been declared illegal to transport horses from Spain to France. This prohibition originated entirely in views of political economy, and it was the business of the officers of the customs to prevent the contraband trade. But on occasion of the wars which arose between the Papists and Protestants of France, and the increase of the latter on the Spanish borders, it occurred to Philip as an excellent expedient for putting down the prohibited commerce, to commit the task to the Inquisition, whose services would be more effectual than those of a hundred thousand frontier guards. With this view he procured a bull from the Pope, which, with a special reference to the Protestants of France, and the inhabitants of Bearn in particular, declared all to be suspected of heresy who should furnish arms, ammunition, or other instruments of war to heretics. In consequence of this, the council of the supreme, in 1569, added to the annual edict of denunciation a clause obliging all, under the pain of excommunication, to inform against any who had bought or transported horses for the use of the French Protestants, which was afterwards extended to all who sent them across the Pyrenees. For this offence numbers were fined, whipped, and condemned to the galleys, by the Inquisitorial tribunals on the frontiers. Always bent on extending their jurisdiction, the Inquisitors sought to bring under their cognizance all questions respecting the contraband trade in saltpetre, sulphur, and powder."
Freemasonry, as has been already stated, was a very heinous crime in the eye of the Inquisition. The following trial which took place at Madrid, in 1757, will sufficiently prove the hatred of the "Holy Office," to all who were connected with that order. A Frenchman of the name of M. Tournon, had been invited to Spain to instruct the Spaniards in the art of making brass or copper buckles; but in the year above mentioned, he was denounced to the Inquisition, by one of his pupils, as a favourer of heresy. His heresy consisted in having asked some of his pupils to become freemasons, and obtained their consent. At his first audience, the following conversation took place between the Inquisitors and M. Tournon, which, after the cruelties that have been detailed, will both relieve and amuse the reader. [25]
Quest. Do you know or suppose why you have been arrested by the holy office?
Ans. I suppose it is for having said that I was a freemason.
Q. Why do you suppose so?
A. Because I have informed my pupils that I was of that order, and I fear they have denounced me; for I have perceived lately, that they speak to me with an air of mystery, and their questions lead me to believe that they think me a heretic.