necessary by my directors, that they might have the honor of a difficult
conversion, and every dogma of their faith was recapitulated, in order to
triumph the more completely over my new docility.

At length, sufficiently instructed and disposed to the will of my
masters, I was led in procession to the metropolitan church of St. John,
to make a solemn abjuration, and undergo a ceremony made use of on these
occasions, which, though not baptism, is very similar, and serves to
persuade the people that Protestants are not Christians. I was clothed
in a kind of gray robe, decorated with white Brandenburgs. Two men, one
behind, the other before me, carried copper basins which they kept
striking with a key, and in which those who were charitably disposed put
their alms, according as they found themselves influenced by religion or
good will for the new convert; in a word, nothing of Catholic pageantry
was omitted that could render the solemnity edifying to the populace, or
humiliating to me. The white dress might have been serviceable, but as I
had not the honor to be either Moor or Jew, they did not think fit to
compliment me with it.

The affair did not end here, I must now go to the Inquisition to be
absolved from the dreadful sin of heresy, and return to the bosom of the
church with the same ceremony to which Henry the Fourth was subjected by
his ambassador. The air and manner of the right reverend Father
Inquisitor was by no means calculated to dissipate the secret horror that
seized my spirits on entering this holy mansion. After several questions
relative to my faith, situation, and family, he asked me bluntly if my
mother was damned? Terror repressed the first gust of indignation; this
gave me time to recollect myself, and I answered, I hope not, for God
might have enlightened her last moments. The monk made no reply, but his
silence was attended with a look by no means expressive of approbation.