Now, in the particular case which we are examining—the gunpowder plot—we believe that Catesby and Percy, at first, contrived the plot without the knowledge or participation of the Jesuits, as it is not denied that afterwards Gerard, Tezmund alias Greenwall, and Garnet, were made acquainted with it in all its horrid details. The whole question regarding Garnet, who alone suffered for the conspiracy, has hitherto amounted to this—whether he knew of it in any other way than as it was revealed to him by Father Gerard, under the seal of confession. And the Jesuits and Papists insist upon this point, pretending that, in such a case, Garnet could not reveal the conspiracy without committing sacrilege. To speak the truth, we are inclined to believe that he, literally speaking, did not know of it otherwise; and these are the reasons why we believe so. Garnet was not, like Parson, a bold and daring partisan, capable of braving any danger, of attempting any enterprise. He was a very poor conspirator, in no way disposed to earn the palm of martyrdom. Catesby, who had been his associate in the plots during the reign of Elizabeth, must have known him well, so that he and the other conspirators did not trust him at first even with their confession. It was Greenway who, in our opinion, violated the seal of confession by apprising his superior of what was going on. It is not improbable, then, that when afterwards Catesby proposed to disclose to him the whole plan of the plot, Garnet, who had nothing to learn, refused to listen to him, in order that, in case of ill-success, he might not be accused of being an accomplice. That all the Jesuits approved of the plot and wished it success, there is very little doubt, and we even believe that, without speaking openly to the point, Garnet must have indirectly, by cunning, adroit insinuations, encouraged the conspirators to consummate the horrible crime. It is a fact deponed by Bates, and indubitably proved, that Garnet and the other two Jesuits had frequent interviews with Catesby and the other conspirators some few days before that which had been fixed upon for the execution of the plot; and we do not hesitate to say, that had Garnet wished to deter the conspirators from their infernal projects, he might have found a thousand ways of doing so without at all betraying the secrets of the confessional. But suppose that, as we have said, Garnet and Greenway did not know of the conspiracy except under the seal of confession, and that they in no way encouraged and abetted it, yet we cannot acquit them of the charge of being accomplices in the crime.

We have related at p. 140 that at Grenada the Jesuits had propounded a doctrine that there are circumstances in which the confessor may oblige his penitent to discover his accomplices or permit him to inform the competent authorities of the crime. It is true that the crime specified was heresy, but we think that the same may be said of murder or any other crime, and that that doctrine which is good at Grenada must be equally good in England. But let that pass, and let us proceed. The conspirators, at least five of them, declared to the confessor, that they were meditating a horrible crime, that they were taking measures to accomplish it, and that they were sure of success. The confessor granted them absolution, and another Jesuit administered to them the communion. Now, the indispensable condition of the validity of absolution from a sin, is, that the penitent feel repentance or contrition for having committed it. How then could Father Greenway absolve the conspirators from a crime of which they not only did not repent, but which they were proceeding at all hazards to perpetrate? The evil spirit himself expounds this doctrine to the unfortunate Guido, to whom he proves that the absolution he had received from the Pope from a sin he had not yet committed was null.

“No power can the impenitent absolve,

Nor to repent and will at once consist,

By contradiction absolute forbid.”[282]

We conclude from this, that either your confession is merely a snare to entrap fools, or that Greenway considered the conspiracy not a hellish crime, but a meritorious deed!

But we have a still more stringent argument. Suppose that, following some of their probable opinions, the Jesuits thought that they were obliged to absolve the miscreants, and that their ministry obliged them faithfully to keep the secret, had they not the Pope, the omnipotent Pope to apply to, to absolve them from that obligation? Is there any precept, any sacrament, any law human or divine, from the fulfilment of which, according to their doctrine, the Pope cannot grant a dispensation? If there is any, let it be pointed out, and we shall absolve them. But if they cannot deny that the Pope could have released them from the secrecy of confession, and if they cannot prove that they asked such dispensation, it is evident that they did not wish to prevent the crime. And if this was connivance, and if this connivance was a capital crime, then their condemnation was undoubtedly a legal and just sentence, and they met with nothing but deserved punishment. We wonder that James, who was so well versed in theological controversies, did not find out any of these arguments, which would certainly have furnished more plausible grounds for a condemnation than the equivocal confession wrung from the Jesuits by the contrivance of ignoble and disgraceful snares. For if we unreservedly condemn the Jesuits, we exclaim with equal energy against the proceedings of their adversaries. All the forms of justice, all the laws of humanity, were scandalously violated. Garnet is confined in a prison, repeatedly interrogated, and, in order that he may betray himself, assured that his accomplice Father Greenway has been arrested, and that he has confessed everything. Then, after he has been long in a dungeon alone, a jailor, pretending to be touched with compassion, tells the desolate man, that another Jesuit is close by, and that he can converse with, and even see him; and opens a door through which the two friends can see each other. The manner in which his secrets were surprised; the misconstruction of his words; the interception of letters, which he was assured he might in safety write to his bosom friends; the strange imputation of roguery, because he did not consent to accuse himself, in clear and precise words; the promises which were held out to him and never kept; and, above all, the protracted, cruel, and inhuman moral torture which was inflicted upon him on the scaffold;[283] all deserve our severe and unconditional censure. Thank God! in England at least we are now far from those cruel times of injustice and fanaticism, and we sincerely hope we shall never see them back again.

The Jesuits were not appalled nor discouraged by the execution of Garnet, nor by that of Oldcorne, who had suffered at Worcester some days before.[284] We find them in almost all the conspiracies which were got up to impede the regular march of the government, and we find from time to time severe and inquisitorial laws enacted against them, some of which forbade them to set foot in England, under penalty of death. It is an incontestable fact, that the Jesuits, by their turbulent and treacherous conduct, were the cause of most of the rigorous measures taken by the government against the Roman Catholics, who ought therefore to consider those crafty monks as their most bitter enemies. Another inference may be drawn from what we have related, namely—that no danger, not even that of death, can deter a Jesuit from following out his projects, when once they are considered to be profitable to the Order, or necessary to avenge it of its enemies. The moment they could return from exile, the instant they were set free from dangers or untied from the rack, they returned to their plots and intrigues with unabated ardour and most wonderful obstinacy. A striking instance of this was furnished by the Jesuit Fischer, who, the moment he was liberated from the tower, undertook to convert to Catholicism the mother of the brilliant Buckingham, who did in fact abjure Protestantism, and, in union with France and Spain, contrived to render less cruel the laws of proscription against the Catholics.[285]

During the fatal struggle which Charles I. maintained against the Parliament, the Jesuits publicly and openly took part with the cavaliers, because Charles was evidently much better disposed towards them than were the Puritans. It is evident that, by shewing their devotedness to the king, if the contest had ended in his favour, they might not only have hoped for the free exercise of their religion, but for a considerable share of influence over him. But a very grave accusation was brought against them, which, if true, would shew them guilty of the most diabolical iniquity. We have no proofs to establish this accusation, which was produced some years after the event; but, if we are to declare our own conviction, we firmly believe them guilty; not because we credit in all its parts the narrative of Jurieu, but for the reasons we are about to give. Jurieu relates that the Jesuits, to re-establish the Roman Catholic religion, thought that it would be necessary that Charles, then prisoner, should fall, and the monarchy along with him. In consequence, eighteen of them, headed by a lord of the realm, went to Rome to consult the Pope. The matter was discussed in secret assemblies, and it was decided that it was lawful that Charles should die. The deputies, on their return from Rome, shewed to the Sorbonne the response of the Pope, of which many copies were distributed. The Sorbonne approved. On their return to England, the Jesuits set themselves to work, and sent many of the most ardent Catholics among the Independents, dissembling their religion, to inflame still more their passions, and push things to extremities. Their scheme having failed, they wished to have back the copies of the consultation of the Pope and the Sorbonne; but the priest who before abjuring Protestantism had been Charles’s confessor, and who was intimate with the Jesuits, would not give up his copy, and, after the return of the Stuarts, shewed it to many persons who were still living, and could afford actual evidence of the reality of what he narrated.[286]