He led me first to the great hall of the Inquisition. We were met at the door by a number of well dressed persons, who, I afterwards understood, were the familiars and the attendants of the holy office. They bowed very low to the Inquisitor, and looked with surprise at me. The great hall is the place in which the prisoners are marshalled for the procession of the auto-da-fé. At the procession described by Dellon, in which he himself walked barefoot, clothed with the painted garment, there were upwards of one hundred and fifty prisoners. I traversed this hall for some time, with a slow step, reflecting on its former scenes, the Inquisitor walking by my side in silence. I thought of the fate of the multitudes of my fellow creatures who had passed through this place, condemned by a tribunal of their fellow sinners, their bodies devoted to the flames, and their souls to perdition. And I could not help saying to him, "Would not the holy Church wish, in her mercy, to have those souls back again, that she might allow them a little farther probation?" The Inquisitor answered nothing, but beckoned me to go with him to a door at one end of the hall. By this door he conducted me to some small rooms, and thence to the spacious apartments of the chief Inquisitor. Having surveyed these, he brought me back again to the great hall; and I thought he seemed now desirous that I should depart. "Now, father," said I, "lead me to the dungeons below; I want to see the captives." "No," said he, "that cannot be." I now began to suspect that it had been in the mind of the Inquisitor, from the beginning, to show me only a certain part of the Inquisition, in the hope of satisfying my inquiries in a general way. I urged him with earnestness, but he steadily resisted, and seemed to be offended, or rather agitated by my importunity. I intimated to him plainly, that the only way to do justice to his assertions and arguments regarding the present state of the Inquisition, was to show me the prisons and the captives. I should then describe only what I saw; but now the subject was left in awful obscurity. "Lead me down," said I, "to the inner building, and let me pass through the two hundred dungeons, ten feet square, described by your former captives. Let me count the number of your present captives, and converse with them. I want to see if there be any subjects of the British government, to whom we owe protection. I want to ask how long they have been here; how long it is since they beheld the light of the sun, and whether they ever expect to see it again. Show me the chamber of torture; and declare what modes of execution, or of punishment, are now practised within the walls of the Inquisition, in lieu of the public auto-da-fé. If, after all that has passed, father, you resist this reasonable request, I shall be justified in believing that you are afraid of exposing the real state of the Inquisition in India." To these observations the Inquisitor made no reply; but seemed impatient that I should withdraw "My good father," said I, "I am about to take my leave of you, (it had been before understood that I should take my final leave at the door of the Inquisition, after having seen the interior,) and to thank you for your hospitable attentions, and I wish always to preserve on my mind a favourable sentiment of your kindness and candour. You cannot, you say, show me the captives and dungeons; be pleased, then, merely to answer this question, for I shall believe your word:—How many prisoners are there now below in the cells of the Inquisition?" The Inquisitor replied, "That is a question which I cannot answer!" On his pronouncing these words, I retired hastily towards the door, and wished him farewell. We shook hands with as much cordiality as we could at the moment assume; and both of us, I believe, were sorry that our parting took place with a clouded countenance.