The Prime Minister

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The Duke stood gazing on the Jesuit as one whose senses are bewildered by the sudden communication either of joyful or disastrous intelligence. Had he ever before indulged in thoughts such as these words conjured up? Yes, he had; but, as he thought, he trembled; but now all his fears were banished, and those imaginings which he had before fancied were the instigations of the evil one, he was now told, were the inspirations of the Divine will. Neither the Duke nor Malagrida had moved since they first met; the tall gaunt figure of the priest appearing of still greater height from a bright gleam of sunshine, which, piercing through the foliage, fell upon his head, as he waved his arms wildly round while he spoke; the former now standing in the deep shade beneath the thickly growing orange-trees, which extended in a long avenue, the ground beneath being striped with lines of the brightest gold and black. Now, some may suppose that Malagrida was an impersonification of the evil one, come to tempt the unfortunate Duke to his destruction; but such was not the case. He had from his earliest day’s been an enthusiast, with an eager mind, weakened by the exercises of superstition, and now insanity was making rapid progress over it, though he still retained a considerable spice of that species of cunning which often accompanies madness, pointing out the best means of attaining what was most advantageous to him. He thus, while he fancied that he was giving utterance to the inspirations of Heaven, was perfectly well aware that he was making a tool of the weak and bigoted Duke, not discovering that he was himself influenced by another his superior, but who, in his estimation, was vastly his inferior in talent and holiness. Respecting the latter quality he might not have far erred.

He stood gazing down on his noble dupe for several minutes. “Come,” he said, “my son, whose brow I may some day see graced by a regal diadem, let us walk beneath this shady grove, and talk further on this subject. Should Heaven not alter its intention of placing you on the throne of these realms, you will not forget the interests of the Church, and of one of its most devoted servants, who has been the privileged and true prophet of your elevation.”

“No, holy Father, trust to my gratitude,” answered the Duke. “The Church, under my protection, shall flourish in full power; and you shall ever remain the guardian of my conscience, and my spiritual adviser.”

“Such is well, my son,” answered the Jesuit; “and, ere long, your good intentions will be rewarded. In the meantime, be prepared for the events which are at hand, and be not dismayed by the difficulties in your path. He who would succeed must suffer all things, and dare all things; nor fear but that the Church will grant absolution, even unto the shedding the blood of the wicked.”

“I understand your words; Father,” answered the Duke, in an agitated and hollow tone. “The matter you speak of is of deep importance, and requires mature consideration; yet would I hazard all to destroy that upstart Carvalho, who so insolently lords it over us nobles, by birth his masters.”

Thus conversing, the Duke and Malagrida continued pacing the orange grove till the quick coming shades of darkness made it no longer safe to speak aloud on such dangerous subjects, lest any, unperceived, might approach and overhear them.

As the name of the Father Malagrida was at one time known over a great part of the Catholic world, by some lauded as a saint and prophet, by others scorned as an impudent hypocrite and impostor, we may be excused for giving a slight sketch of his history.

Gabriel Malagrida, an Italian, was born in 1689, at Mercajo, in the Milanese, and was thus, at the time we have introduced him, upwards of sixty years old. At an early age he migrated to Portugal, then the paradise of priests and religious adventurers of all classes, but particularly of the Jesuits, who possessed the supreme control over the consciences of the royal family and the chief nobility; and into that order he was there, after the usual probation, admitted. His peculiar talents were soon discovered, and he was despatched as a missionary to South America. Over the whole of that part under the dominion of Portugal he travelled barefooted and alone; his only sustenance the wild roots and herbs, which he dug with his own hands; his body being covered with the marks imprinted on it by the teeth and claws of the wild beasts he encountered. Having escaped the glories of martyrdom, such a life fully entitled him to the character of a saint of the very first order, which, on his recall by his superior, he took every opportunity to improve; adding to it that of a prophet and worker of miracles, thousands being ready to swear to the fulfilment of the predictions he had uttered, and to the miracles he had wrought. King John the Fifth, of pious memory, who ever preferred the society of bigots, flatterers, buffoons, and fools, to the cares of government, for which he probably felt a consciousness of total incapacity, leaving his kingdom to rapid decay, while he was slowly toiling to merit heaven and gain forgiveness for rather numerous peccadillos, which private memoirs hint he had some difficulty in giving up, had distinguished Malagrida by marked partiality, and had performed what were called exercises under his direction. He had, likewise, been a favourite with the queen, Mary Anne of Austria; and, on his return from South America, the present king, Joseph, then Prince of Brazil, had gone out to meet him, and throwing himself at his feet, had implored his blessing. It is, indeed, scarcely possible, in the present day, to conceive a Court so completely debased by superstition, so overrun by herds of slothful, ignorant, or designing priests, as was that of Lisbon; from whose worse than Augean filth it was Carvalho’s Herculean undertaking, in some degree, to cleanse it for the time. Malagrida having thus retained almost supreme power over the consciences of the chief persons in the realm for a long series of years, his hatred was rancorous and deadly against the man who had deprived him of it; and the Minister had occasion for the utmost watchfulness and talent to guard himself against the secret machinations and the public attacks with which he and the rest of his order attempted to destroy him.

When Carvalho first returned to Portugal, after his embassy to the Court of London, he had paid every respect to the Jesuits, particularly to Father Moreira, the confessor to the Prince of Brazil, in order, by his aid, to gain the confidence of the heir to the throne; but no sooner did he find his power secure, than he threw off the mask and proclaimed himself the enemy of the whole order, whom he declared the chief cause of the ignorance and bigotry of the people.

It is not surprising, therefore, that they should regard with fear and hatred a man so opposed to all their principles of government; and, accordingly, they used every means in their power to instigate the people against him, thundering anathemas on his head from their pulpits, and spreading tracts, loaded with abuse, among all circles. No one equalled Malagrida in the measures he took, or the daring he exhibited; but, though years first rolled on, the bitter and relentless vengeance of the Minister ultimately overtook him.