cation of the public mind. The confessor was
adjudged a very severe penance, which Saint-Thomas modified because of
his prompt avowal of his fault, and still more because he had given an
opportunity for the public exhibition of that reverence which judges
themselves are bound to pay to confessions.

SECOND CASE

In 1579 an innkeeper at Toulouse killed with his own hand, unknown to the
inmates of his house, a stranger who had come to lodge with him, and
buried him secretly in the cellar. The wretch then suffered from
remorse, and confessed the crime with all its circumstances, telling his
confessor where the body was buried. The relations of the dead man,
after making all possible search to get news of him, at last proclaimed
through the town a large reward to be given to anyone who would discover
what had happened to him. The confessor, tempted by this bait, secretly
gave word that they had only to search in the innkeeper's cellar and they
would find the corpse. And they found it in the place indicated. The
innkeeper was thrown into prison, was tortured, and confessed his crime.
But afterwards he always maintained that his confessor was the only
person who could have betrayed him. Then the Parliament, indignant with
such means of finding out the truth, declared him innocent, failing other
proof than what came through his confessor. The confessor was himself
condemned to be hanged, and his body was burnt. So fully did the
tribunal in its wisdom recognise the importance of securing the sanctity
of a sacrament that is indispensable to salvation.

THIRD CASE

An Armenian woman had inspired a violent passion in a young Turkish
gentleman, but her prudence was long an obstacle to her lover's desires.
At last he went beyond all bounds, and threatened to kill both her and
her husband if she refused to gratify him. Frightened by this threat,
which she knew too well he would carry out, she feigned consent, and gave
the Turk a rendezvous at her house at an hour when she said her husband
would be absent; but by arrangement the husband arrived, and although the
Turk was armed with a sabre and a pair of pistols, it so befell that they
were fortunate enough to kill their enemy, whom they buried under their
dwelling unknown to all the world. But some days after the event they
went to confess to a priest of their nation, and revealed every detail of
the tragic story. This un