AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF FRANCIS ARAGO. 1G3 



mistalven, tliat my suspicions bad no foundatioc ; for Father Trivulce 

 weut on with the interrupted mass, drank, and drank hirgely, of the 

 white wine contained in one of tlie goblets. But when I had got out of 

 the hands of the two monks, and was able to breathe the pure air of the 

 country, I experienced a lively satisfaction. 



The right of asylum accorded to some churches was one of the most 

 obnoxious privileges among those of which the revolution of 1798 rid 

 France. In 1807, this right still existed in Spain, and belonged, I be- 

 lieve, to all the cathedrals. I learned, during my stay at Barcelona, that 

 there was, in a little cloister contiguous to the largest church of the 

 town, a brigand — a man guilty of several assassinations, who lived 

 quietly there, guaranteed against all pursuit by the sanctity of the place. 

 I wished to assure myself with ray own eyes of the reality of the fact, 

 and I went with my friend Eodriguez into the little cloister in question. 

 The assassin was then eating a meal which a woman had just brought 

 him. He easily guessed the object of our visit, and made immediately 

 such demonstrations as convinced us that, if the asylum was safe for 

 the robber, it would not be so long for us. We retired at once, deplor- 

 ing that in a country calling itself civilized there should still exist such 

 crying, such monstrous abuses. 



In order to succeed in our geodesic operations, to obtain the coopera- 

 tion of the inhabitants of the villages near our stations, it was desirable 

 for us to be recommended to the priests. We went, therefore — M. 

 Lanusse, the French vice-consul, M. Biot, and I — to pay a visit to the 

 Archbishop of Valencia, to solicit his i)rotection. This archbishop, a 

 man of very tall figure, was then chief of the Franciscans ; his costume, 

 more than negligent, his grey robe, covered with tobacco, contrasted 

 with the magnificence of the archiepiscopal palace. He received us 

 with kindness, and promised us all the recommendations we desired ; 

 but, at the moment of taking leave of him, the whole affair seemed to 

 be spoiled. M. Lanusse and M. Biot went out of the reception-room 

 without kissing the hand of his grace, although he had presented it to 

 each of them very graciously. The archbishop indemnified himself on 

 my poor i)erson. A movement, which was very near breaking my teeth, 

 a gesture which I might justly call a blow of the fist, proved to me that 

 the chief of the Franciscans, notwithstanding his vow of humility, had 

 taken offense at the want of ceremony in my fellow-visitors. I was go- 

 ing to complain of the abrupt way in which he had treated me, but I 

 had the necessities of our trigonometrical operations before my eyes, 

 and I was silent. 



Besides this, at the instant when the closed fist of the archbishop was 

 applied to my lips, I was still thinking of the beautiful optical experi- 

 ments which it w^ould have been possible to make with the magnificent 

 stone which ornamented his pastoral ring. This idea, I must frankly 

 declare, had preoccupied me during the whole of the visit. 



M. Biot having at last come to seek me again at Valencia, where I ex- 



