g the ranks of
Catholicism.

My opinion is in some measure backed by what occurred at Toledo. On the
Inquisition of that city being dislodged from its palace,--now the seat
of the provincial administration,--it was expected that the exploration
of the subterraneous range of apartments, known to be extensive, would
bring to light a whole Apocalypse of horrors; and all who had interest
enough to obtain admission, pressed in crowds to be present at the
opening. The disappointment was immense on finding not a single piece of
iron, not the shadow of a skeleton, not a square inch of bloodstain.
Each individual, however, during the permanence of these tribunals,
lived in awe of their power; and the daily actions of thousands were
influenced by the fear of becoming the victims of their cruelties,
whether real or imaginary.

The terror which surrounded the persons of their agents invested them
with a moral power, which frequently rendered them careless of the
precaution of physical force in cases where it would have appeared to be
a necessary instrument in the execution of their designs. This
confidence was once well-nigh fatal to two zealous defenders of the
faith. The Archbishop of Toledo, subsequently Cardinal Ximenes de
Cisneros being on a visit at the residence of his brother of the see of
Granada, it occurred to them during an after-dinner conversation that,
could they accomplish the immediate conversion of the few thousands of
Moors remaining in Granada, it would be the means of rendering a signal
service to the Catholic Roman Apostolic religion.

Inflamed with a sudden ardour, and rendered doubly fearless of results
by the excellence of the archiepiscopal repast, they resolved that the
project should be put in execution that very evening.

Ever since the Conquest of Granada, a portion of the city had been
appropriated to the Moors who thought proper to remain; and who received
on that occasion the solemn assurance that no molestation would be
offered to their persons or property, nor impediment thrown in the way
of their worship. Their part of the town was called the Albaycin, and
was separated from the rest by a valley. It contained some twenty to
thirty thousand peaceably disposed inhabitants.

The two enterprising archbishops, their plan being matured (although
insufficiently, as will appear) repaired to a house bordering on the
Moorish quarter; and, calling together all the Familiars of the
Inquisition who coul