The advice was assented to by the king, and a decree was issued in virtue of which silence was passed on 6,000 Spanish subjects who not only had no trial but who were absolutely unaware that there was any charge against them. They had been as a body irreproachable for two hundred years, had reflected more glory, and won more territory for Spain than had ever been gained by its armies. They were men of holy lives, often of great distinction in every branch of learning; some of them belonged to the noblest families of the realm; and yet they were all to be thrown out in the world at a moment's notice, though not a judge on the bench, not a priest or a bishop, not even the Pope had been apprised of the cause of it, and, as we have seen, it was forbidden even to speak of the act. A more outrageous abuse of authority could not possibly be conceived.

It was arranged that on the coming second of April, 1767, a statement should be made throughout Europe by which the world would be informed: first, that for the necessary preservation of peace, and for other equally just and necessary reasons (though the world is not to be told what they are), the Jesuits are expelled from the king's dominions, and all their goods confiscated; secondly, that the motive will forever remain buried in the royal heart; thirdly, that all the other religious congregations in Spain are most estimable and are not to be molested. The decree was signed by Charles and countersigned by Aranda and then sent out. The ambassador at Rome was ordered to hand it to the Pope and withdraw without saying a word. The despatches to the civil and military authorities in both worlds were enclosed in double envelopes and sealed with three seals. On the inner cover appeared the ominous words, as from a pirate addressing his crew: "Under pain of death this package is not to be opened until April 2, 1767, at the setting sun." The letter read as follows: "I invest you with all my authority and all my royal power to descend immediately with arms on the Jesuit establishments in your district; to seize the occupants and to lead them as prisoners to the port indicated inside of 24 hours. At the moment of seizure, you will seal the archives of the house and all private papers and permit no one to carry anything but his prayer-book and the linen strictly necessary for the voyage. If after your embarcation there is left behind a single Jesuit either sick or dying in your department, you shall be punished with death."

"I, the King."

The motive that prompted Charles to keep the secret of this amazing proceeding "shut up in his royal heart" has been usually ascribed to his intense resentment at the suspicion cast on his legitimacy, and his fear that even the mention of it would lead people to conclude that there was some foundation for the charge. Davila, quoted by Pollen in "The Month" (August, 1902), finds another explanation.

"Charles III," he says, "had become an extravagant regalist, and was convinced by his Voltairean ministers, mostly by Tanucci, whom he had left in charge of his son at Naples, that in all things the Church should be subject to the State. It was on that account that he kept the reasons for the expulsion of the Jesuits 'buried in his royal heart.' The sole cause of this act was his change of policy; a true reason of state such as, on some occasions, covers grave acts of injustice — for it must be always a grave injustice to charge a religious society with having conspired against the fundamental institutions of a country, and yet not be able to point out in any way the object and plan of so dark a conspiracy. If such be the case," continues Davila, "it is easy to understand why his majesty could not reveal this 'secret of his royal heart' even to the Pope, or perhaps least of all to him, for it would be a painful avowal that his Catholic Majesty was a yoke-fellow with the Voltaireans of Europe whose avowed purpose was to destroy the Church."

Clement XIII was overwhelmed with grief when he read the king's decree and wrote to him as follows: "Of all the blows I have received during the nine unhappy years of my pontificate the worst is that of which your majesty informs me in your last letter, telling me of your resolution to expel from all your vast dominions the religious of the Society of Jesus. So you too, do this, my son, Tu quoque fili mi. Our beloved Charles III, the Catholic King, is the one who is to fill up the chalice of our woe and to bring down to the grave our old age bathed in tears and overwhelmed with grief. The very religious, the very pious King of Spain, Charles III, is going to give the support of his arm, that powerful arm which God has given him to increase his own honor and that of God and the Church, to destroy to its very foundation, an order so useful and so dear to the Church, an order which owes its origin and its splendor to those saintly heroes whom God has deigned to choose in the Spanish nation to extend His greater glory throughout the world. It is you who are going to deprive your kingdom and your people of all the help and all the spiritual blessings which the religious of that Society have heaped on it by their preaching, their missions, their catechisms, their spiritual exercises, the administration of the sacraments, the education of youth in letters and piety, the worship of God, and the honor of the Church.

"Ah! Sire! our soul cannot bear the thought of that awful ruin. And what cuts us to the heart still deeper perhaps is to see the wise, just King Charles III, that prince whose conscience was so delicate and whose intentions were so right; who lest he might compromise his eternal salvation, would never consent to have the meanest of his subjects suffer the slightest injury in their private concerns without having their case previously and legitimately tried and every condition of the law complied with, is now vowing to total destruction, by depriving of its honor, its country, its property, which was legitimately acquired, and its establishments, which were rightfully owned, that whole body of religious who were dedicated to the service of God and the neighbor, and all that without examining them, without hearing them, without permitting them to defend themselves. Sire! this act of yours is grave; and if perchance it is not sufficiently justified in the eyes of Almighty God, the Sovereign Judge of all creatures, the approval of those who have advised you in this matter will avail nothing, nor will the plaudits of those whose principles have prompted you to do this. As for us, plunged as we are in inexpressible grief, we avow to your majesty that we fear and tremble for the salvation of your soul which is so dear to us.

"Your Majesty tells us that you have been compelled to adopt these measures by the duty of maintaining peace in your states, — implying we presume that this trouble has been provoked by some individual belonging to the Society of Jesus. But, even if it were true, Sire, why not punish the guilty without making the innocent suffer? The body, the Institute, the spirit of the Society of Jesus, we declare it in the presence of God and of man, is absolutely innocent of all crime, and not only innocent, but pious, useful, holy in its object, in its laws, in its maxims. It matters not that its enemies have endeavored to prove the contrary; all calm and impartial minds will abhor such accusers as discredited liars who contradict themselves in whatever they say. You may tell me that it is now an accomplished fact; that the royal edict has been promulgated and you may ask what will the world say if I retract? Should you not rather ask, Sire, what will God say? Let me tell you what the world will say. It will say what it said of Assuerus when he revoked his edict to butcher the Hebrews. It accorded him the eternal praise of being a just king who knew how to conquer himself. Ah! Sire, what a chance to win a like glory for yourself. We offer to your majesty the supplications not only of your royal spouse, who from heaven recalls to you the love she had for the Society of Jesus, but much more so, to the Sacred Spouse of Jesus Christ, the Holy Church, which cannot contemplate, without weeping, the total and imminent extinction of the Society of Jesus, which until this very hour has rendered to her such great assistance and such signal services. Permit, then, that this matter be regularly discussed; let justice and truth be allowed to act, and they will scatter the clouds that have arisen from prejudice and suspicion. Listen to the counsels of those who are doctors in Israel; the bishops, the religious, in a cause that involves the interests of the State, the honor of the Church, the salvation of souls, your own conscience and your eternal salvation."

How Charles could resist this appeal, which is among the most admirable and eloquent state papers ever given to the world, is incomprehensible. But he did. He merely replied to the Pope: "To spare the world a great scandal, I shall ever preserve as a secret in my heart the abominable plot which has necessitated this rigor. Your Holiness ought to believe my word, the safety of my life exacts of me a profound silence."

Not satisfied with writing to the king himself, the Pope also pleaded with the greatest prelate in the realm, the Archbishop of Tarragona as follows: "What has come over you? How does it happen that, in an instant, the Society of Jesus has departed so far from the rules of its pious Institute, that our dear Son in Jesus Christ, Charles III, the Catholic King, can consider himself authorized to expel from his realm all the Regular Clerks of the Society? This is a mystery we cannot explain; only a year ago, the numberless letters addressed to us by the Spanish episcopacy afforded us some consolation in the deep grief that affected us when these same religious were expelled from France. Those letters informed us that the Fathers in your country gave an example of every virtue, and that the bishops and their dioceses received the most powerful support by their pious and useful labours. And now, behold, in an instant, there come dreadful charges against them and we are asked to believe that all these Fathers or almost all have committed some terrible crime; nay the king himself, so well known for his equity, is so convinced of it, that he feels obliged to treat the members of that Institute with a rigor hitherto unheard of."