This perseverance of the order in its principles and policy is comparable to nothing except the corresponding constancy of the world in the opinion which it formed of the Society at its commencement, and which it still retains. “The moment,” says an author of the beginning of the seventeenth century, “a great crime is committed, the public voice at once and unanimously accuses the Jesuits of being its perpetrators.” And the same sentiments with regard to them prevail to this day. In former times, indeed, that opinion was so strongly and universally received, that our forefathers, less scrupulous than we are in the administration of justice, at the simple announcement of a misdeed, brought the Jesuit before the tribunal, and sometimes unjustly condemned him for crimes of which he was guiltless. Do, then, the Jesuits, from the habit of committing crimes, bear on their countenances the indications of a criminal and wicked disposition, as is commonly the case with ruffians by procession? Or do they, by public and open misdemeanours, give the world a right to form this judgment of them? By no means. We have already said the reverse. They appear, on the contrary, to conduct themselves as the most innocent, most inoffensive, and holy of men; and, indeed, unless one has been present at the representation of Tartuffe, he would not easily recognise the Jesuit from the undisguisedly honest man. However, we would not be so illiberal as to say that all the Jesuits are knaves. Our lamented friend Gioberti, when Father Pellico said to him, “Are we, then, all assassins and robbers?” answered, “By no means. Individually, I consider you very honest fellows, and had I treasure, I would unhesitatingly intrust it to your keeping.” We would not perhaps go quite so far; but we will freely admit that the Jesuit may be individually honest, unless the interest of his order obliges him to be otherwise. For there are no considerations of religion, honesty, or virtue, which he does not feel himself bound peremptorily and at all times to sacrifice to this one supreme consideration. “The end sanctifies the means,” is his favourite maxim; and as his only end, as we have shewn, is the order, at its bidding the Jesuit is ready to commit any crime whatsoever.
Such, then, is the history of a Society dreaded and relied upon, worshipped and abhorred, which has produced little good, and infinite mischief, and which, having been hurled down from the pinnacle of splendour and glory, attempts now, with renewed vigour and unceasing activity, to regain the summit of its ancient pre-eminence. An appalling prospect, foreboding no good to the welfare of mankind! One cheering idea, however, still remains to dissipate the evil apprehension. The Jesuits, now more decidedly than ever, have identified themselves with the cause of despotism, fanaticism, and ignorance; and the day on which the tottering thrones of tyranny shall crumble under the mighty and resistless arm of progressive civilisation, they will bury deep and for ever under their ruins all traces of the influence once possessed by this most formidable and pernicious Society.
THE END.
FOOTNOTES
[1] History of the Council of Trent, by Fra Paolo Sarpi, tome i. p. 9.
[2] Helyot, Histoire des Ordres Monastiques, Religieux et Militaires, tome vii. p. 452. When we have modern Catholic authors who quote from Sacchinus Orlandinus, &c., we shall quote them, as books more easily to be had.
[3] Helyot, Hist. des Ord. Mon., Rel. et Mil., tome vii. p. 456.
[4] Ibid. p. 459.
[5] By the term “Spiritual Exercises,” Catholics understand that course of solitary prayer and religious meditation, generally extending over many days, which candidates for holy orders have to perform in the seclusion of a convent previous to being consecrated. Again, when a priest incurs the displeasure of his superior, he is sent as a sort of prisoner to some convent, there to perform certain prescribed “spiritual exercises,” which in this case may last from one to three weeks.