CHAPTER IX.

1560-1600.

PROCEEDINGS OF THE JESUITS IN THE DIFFERENT COUNTRIES OF EUROPE.

ENGLAND.

Many have pronounced it impossible to write an adequate history of the Jesuits, because, being more or less connected with the history of the world, it is no easy matter to pass from one event, and from one country, to another, and yet follow the chronological order, that the reader may have a clear and consecutive narrative. To obviate this difficulty as far as possible, we have, in the preceding chapter, which embraces a period of twenty-five years, related only the facts connected with the internal history of the order; we shall now proceed to those which during nearly the same space of time more or less exercised an influence upon the history of the different countries in Europe.

Let us begin with England. After the first expedition of Brouet and Salmeron in 1541, which we have already noticed, Great Britain was no longer troubled with Jesuitical missions till the “good Queen Mary had expired, to the inestimable damage of the Catholic religion.”[129] In 1550, however, the Pope despatched to Ireland the Irish Jesuit, Davis Wolfe, and after three years more, a bishop, accompanied with other two Jesuits; “while,” as Sacchini says, “Father Chimage, an Englishman, returned home, for the purpose of having his health restored by his own native air.”[130] These satellites of the Pope entered the country under fictitious names, and as stealthily as nocturnal robbers, mendacious in every word they uttered, and exciting the people to rebellion against the “impious” queen. However, the vigilance of Elizabeth’s police prevented them for the time being from doing any material injury. Wolfe, guilty of a thousand immoralities, was dismissed the Society, and the others were obliged to return to Rome.

About this time (1562), Father Gandon was sent into Scotland to exhort and encourage Queen Mary to be faithful to her religion. This was, perhaps, the avowed motive, but, doubtless, he had received similar instructions to those given by Paul III. to Brouet and Salmeron. Mary admitted him by a postern door into her palace, and had three secret conferences with him; but his steps were traced, he was pursued, and a price set upon his head. The Jesuit, who, it seems, had no taste for martyrdom, left Scotland, but not before he had done some mischief. He departed, along with several young noblemen, whom he had seduced, and who accompanied him to be educated in Flanders. “They were hostages to the Church, and were afterwards to return home, carrying thither the faith with them.”[131] About the same period, William Allen, “to perpetuate,” as Butler says, “the Catholic ministry in England,” resolved upon establishing colleges abroad, in which English priests should be educated, preparatory to exercising their calling at home. His exertions were crowned with success. A college, which he consigned into the hands of the Jesuits, was established in Douay in 1568, and Pope Gregory XIII. endowed it with £1500 yearly. When the Jesuits were expelled from Douay, and their college sacked by the people, the Cardinal of Lorraine called them to Rheims. This happened in 1576. The same Pope Gregory established another college in Rome for the education of English youth, and for the purpose of imbuing their minds with hatred to their sovereign and country. The Jesuits had the superintendence of this also. Hence proceeded those priests and Jesuits, who, with brands of discord in their hands, departed to set their country on fire. Many Jesuits were sent to Great Britain between the years 1562 and 1580, and they all received the same instructions, and acted in the same manner. Elizabeth, who at the beginning of her reign had exercised a spirit of toleration towards her Catholic subjects, was now greatly incensed against them, driven, as she was, to extremities by the continual torrent of abuse which was poured upon her head by the sectarians of Rome. The holy Pius V., on the 5th of February 1570, fulminated a bull of excommunication against “Elizabeth, the so-called queen of England, who, after having usurped the throne, has dared to assume the title of supreme chief of the Church, and, moreover” ... [here the bull enumerates all Elizabeth’s crimes]. “We, therefore,” the bull continues, “by the authority which is given to us, declare that the aforesaid Elizabeth, and all her adherents, have incurred excommunication; that she has forfeited her pretended right to the crown of England; and we deprive her of it, and of all other rights, domains, privileges, and dignities. We absolve the Lords and the Commons of the realm, and all others her subjects, from the oath of allegiance which they may have tendered to her, prohibiting them from obeying her commands, ordinances, and proclamations, under the penalty of being excommunicated in like manner.”[132]

The abuses poured upon her by priests and Jesuits were most revolting and insulting. Without referring to ancient writers, we shall quote a passage from Crétineau, a writer of the present civilised and tolerant age, that our readers may have an idea of what must have been the scurrility of those times of fanaticism and intestine commotions. “The Holy See,” says the French historian, “had frequently cursed the heiress and daughter of Henry VIII. The Catholics, on the other hand, having penetrated, along with all England, into her licentious and voluptuous private life, refused to salute the mistress of Leicester with the name of maiden queen, to worship her caprices, or to applaud her hypocritical passions.”[133]

Nor were the Roman Catholics merely contented with attacking Elizabeth by words—their deeds were yet more criminal. Long before this, Allen solicited the General of the Jesuits to establish a house in England. But it seems that the General and the Pope were waiting their own time, and that they did not resolve till the year 1579 to grace Great Britain with a permanent Jesuitical establishment. When this resolution was made known, the most distinguished members of the Society implored, on their knees (as it is reported), to be sent to England to brave the persecutions of Elizabeth; Mercurianus told them, however, that English Jesuits should be preferred for this mission. In consequence of this declaration, Fathers Campion and Parson were chosen to head the mission, which was composed of thirteen members.[134] It arrived at the sea-coast of France, about the month of June 1580. Campion and Parson were both fellows of Oxford University, and not the least among its professors and tutors. It seems that both of them were Catholics at heart, though they pretended to be Protestants. The Jesuits affirm that Parson was dismissed the University because of his Catholic sentiments, while the other party assigns his immoral conduct as the reason. Both took the oath; both, we are assured, repented it all their lives. Both left the university, and after various vicissitudes, and the necessary probation, were received among the sons of Loyola. As we may believe, Cecil’s police knew almost all the movements of these self-invited visitors. Their intended landing in England was announced to all the authorities, their persons were carefully described, and orders were given for arresting them the moment they put foot on shore. But all was to no purpose. The Jesuits eluded every vigilance, and Father Parson, upon arriving at Dover, played to the officer who had the charge of examining the passengers, a trick that would shame any modern Robert Macaire. He gave out that he was a captain returning from Flanders; and being dressed suitably to the character assumed, so well did he perform his part, that the inspecting officer received him with every species of civility and courtesy, shook hands with him, and promised, moreover, to shew every attention to one of the captain’s merchant friends, who, as that impostor intimated, was expected every day from the Continent, and who proved to be no other than Father Campion. When the latter arrived in London, Parson was on the banks of the Thames to receive him, and saluted and cheered him with the air of one meeting a long absent friend, so that no one could have suspected that all was an artifice and a trick.[135]

The Jesuits, once in England, lost no time in commencing operations. A meeting of all the missionaries and secular priests was summoned. Parson presided. He was too cunning to declare publicly the end of their mission, as he did not wish to frighten the timid with the announcement of some dangerous enterprise. He disclaimed all political objects, and said that he only aimed at the conversion of England in co-operation with the secular priests; and swore that this was his only intention.[136] But then appealing to a decree of the Council of Trent, he forbade the Catholics to attend divine service in Protestant churches, and recommended strict nonconformity. In the company of the more faithful, he inveighed most bitterly against the queen, and pointed out with what ease she might be dethroned, by the assistance of the King of Spain and the Pope. Such exhortations as this caused a great ferment among the Roman Catholics.

“Swarms of Jesuits and Papists (from the seminaries of Rome and Rheims), impelled by religious enthusiasm, sedulously cultivated for that very purpose, and desirous of returning to their own country, were constantly pouring into the kingdom.”[137] Parson, who was the Provincial, guided all their movements, and himself went from place to place to excite the worst passions of man’s nature in the breasts of those who sought him, as their spiritual father, to confer peace and consolation. A great stir soon became visible among the Roman Catholics. People talked of nothing else than conspiracy and revolt. Sinister rumours were afloat, and acquired new strength from day to day, as is always the case in times of excitement, when some strange idea always pervades the minds of the multitude. It was now the general belief throughout England that every Roman Catholic was a traitor, and at the bidding of the priests was ready to become an assassin. A general massacre of the Protestants by the Papists, assisted by the invasion of a foreign power, was talked of as a matter of more than probable occurrence. Above all, Elizabeth—the beloved queen—the idol of the people—was in danger every moment of being murdered. Books were daily printed denouncing more or less particularly their abominable machinations. These gave consistency to the popular belief. This belief extended from the lowest to the highest ranks of society, and put the nation into an indescribable state of excitement. The government, satisfied that the Jesuits were the cause of all these troubles, and with the view of quieting the popular commotions, issued a proclamation, which may have been considered just in those days, but which we, who live in a more tolerant age, must unconditionally condemn. Among its other enactments were the following:—“That whosoever had any children, wards, kinsmen, or other relations in parts beyond the seas, should after ten days give in their names to the ordinary, and within four months call them home again, and when they had returned, should forthwith give notice of the same to the said ordinary. That they should not, directly or indirectly, supply such as refused to return with any money. That no man should entertain in his house or harbour any priests sent forth from the aforesaid seminaries, or Jesuits, or cherish and relieve them. And that whosoever did to the contrary, should be accounted a favourer of rebels and seditious persons, and be proceeded against according to the laws of the land.”[138]

The proclamation was boldly answered by pamphlets from each of the Jesuits. Parson’s was full of virulence towards the Protestants, and Campion’s, although written in a more moderate tone, was no less offensive. This last was entitled _Ten Reasons_. It was a defence of the Church of Rome and its supremacy, and made no little noise.[139] In both of these writings, it was protested that the Jesuits were in England solely for the purpose of exercising their holy ministry, and not for any political end whatever; that, on the contrary, they had come to modify the Bull of Pius V. Crétineau says, that “Parson and Campion would not leave Rome until they obtained from the Holy See this concession (the modification of the Bull), which would greatly facilitate their apostolic mission; even the Protestants themselves mention this in their annals as a fact.”[140] And in a note he cites “Camden.” We shall quote for him the passage of the English annalist.

“Robert Parson and Edmund Campion were authorised by Gregory XIII. in these words:—An explication of the bull issued by Pius V. against Elizabeth and her adherents is sought for from our supreme lord, since the Catholics desire that it be thus understood, that it should always bind her and the heretics, but by no means the Catholics, as matters now stand, but only when the execution of the same bull be publicly ordered. The supreme Pontiff granted the aforesaid grace to Father Robert Parson and Edmund Campion when about to set out to England, on the 13th April 1580, in the presence of Father Oliver Manara assistant.”[141]

We might perhaps say that this pretended concession is rather an aggravation of the bull than anything else; but we shall be generous, and give it the best interpretation possible. But then, if we prove that all this was a wily cunning contrivance, that the Jesuits might have greater chance of success in their treacherous projects, their crime will be still more execrable. Let us examine. The facts, it is true, are far from us, and the actors have long ago departed to their accounts: True; but then the deductions of logic from well-authenticated facts still remain to us, and are equally convincing. The Jesuits assert that the Pope, out of leniency and benignancy towards England and its queen, had ordered them not to force upon the Roman Catholic believers the clause of his predecessor’s bull which forbade them, under pain of excommunication, to consider Elizabeth as their legitimate sovereign. Well, if the rest of the Pope’s conduct leads us to believe in the sincerity of this mandate, we shall absolve them of every crime, and say that the Jesuits proceeded to England with the best intentions, and were martyrs to their faith. But who was this pacific and tolerant Pope? It was Gregory XIII.; that same Gregory who, at the news of Saint Bartholomew’s infernal feast, went in procession to the French Church in Rome, offered up thanksgivings to the Almighty for the blood of 50,000 of His creatures barbarously butchered, and had medals struck to commemorate this glorious event! It was this same Gregory who had on the previous year supplied the ruffian Stukely with money, arms, and troops for the invasion of England, whilst the Catholics in the interior were ordered to rise in rebellion in his favour.[142] It was this identical Gregory who at the same time sent into Ireland the famous Dr. Sanders, as the Pope’s legate, with a bull declaring the invasion a regular crusade with all its privileges! It was that same Gregory who, says Ranke, “excited and encouraged all those insurrections which Elizabeth had to contend with in Ireland.”[143] All these facts, proving Gregory’s inexorable hatred towards the Protestants, and his determined desire to dethrone Elizabeth, happened shortly before and after the mission of the Jesuits. And yet it is pretended that this same man forbade the Jesuits from mixing in political affairs, and that, on the contrary, he charged them to preach obedience to the queen! We believe that few will give the Jesuits credit on that score, but rather will be satisfied they were sent for the purpose of stirring up a rebellion, if possible to find an assassin, and that the injunction was nothing else than a _ruse_—an act of duplicity wherewith the better to succeed in their treasonable designs.

The government was, however, highly incensed at their audacity, and attached the utmost importance to their capture. Another proclamation was issued, forbidding any one to harbour, protect, or assist the Jesuits to escape, and that he who did so would be considered guilty of high treason. This produced an effect quite contrary to what was intended. Hundreds of persons who, before the proclamation, shewed no liking for the Jesuits, now risked their fortunes, their lives, to protect them. So interesting does persecution render a man—so generous are the instincts of the people. All the activity, all the vigilance of the most energetic and vigilant of governments was for thirteen months baffled by the dexterity and resources of the Jesuits. The history of their escapes, and the daring methods in which they executed them, is both curious and amusing. Space will not permit us to indulge in the recital of more than one of those marvellous escapes. One evening the house in which Parson had sought a retreat was suddenly surrounded by a band who were in pursuit of him. Resistance or concealment was impossible. Parson at once determined on what he would do. He went to the door, opened it, and calmly asked what they wanted. “The Jesuit,” was the reply. “Walk in,” said he, “and search for him quietly;” and as they entered, he went out, and made his escape.[144] The escapes of Campion were no less wonderful. He himself wrote, “My dresses are most numerous, my fashions are various, and as for names, I have an abundance.”[145] The government, enraged at being so often baffled, had recourse, we are sorry to say, to persecution. Thousands of citizens were thrown into prison for nonconformity, or on mere suspicion. Domiciliary visits frequently disturbed even the inoffensive and peaceful Papists, whilst the Jesuit authors of all these disturbances and miseries laughed at the abortive attempts of their enemies to capture them. At last, in July 1581, Elliot, a Papist, betrayed Campion. He was arrested along with two other priests, in a secret closet in a wall of the castle of Yates. They mounted him on the largest horse that could be got, tied his legs under it, pinioned his hands behind his back, and fixed a placard on his hat with this inscription, in great capitals, “Campion, the seditious Jesuit.” He was brought to London, surrounded by a great multitude, vociferating imprecations and curses upon his head. The shouts of jubilee among the Protestants throughout England were deafening, and many a sincere person rejoiced at it, as if by this capture the kingdom was rescued from imminent danger and certain destruction.

The contradiction which exists between the Protestant and Catholic writers, regarding the treatment, trial, and execution of the Jesuits, renders it almost impossible for us to arrive at the exact truth. The one party calls them innocent martyrs, the other infernal traitors. The one complains that they were most unmercifully treated, the other, that they had too much lenity shewn them. It is, however, an incontestible fact that they were put to the torture, and Crétineau is right when he exclaims against the Protestants, who, while professing to abhor the Papal Inquisition so much, now adopted all its barbarous proceedings. It may be also true, that a jury sitting now at Westminster would not find sufficient material from which to condemn them. But we must remind the Catholics, that to judge of these events with impartiality, we must transport ourselves to those times, when Ireland was in an almost continual state of rebellion; when England was daily menaced with invasion; when the Roman Catholics of all Europe spoke of another Saint Bartholomew; when torrents of imprecations were poured out against Elizabeth, her ministers, and all her Protestant subjects. We must go back to those times when the Jesuits persuaded the Roman Catholics that it was a mortal sin for them to acknowledge Elizabeth’s right to the throne; to those times in which the Jesuitical doctrine, that it was lawful, nay meritorious, to kill an excommunicated king, had already been proclaimed; finally, to those times when the contest had come to this,—“Whether England should be Protestant under the sway of Elizabeth, or Catholic under Mary of Scotland, or Philip of Spain.” That the Jesuits and the Pope caused all this agitation, there can be no doubt whatever. Hume, quoting a passage from Camden, and Walsingham’s letter in Burnet, appears to me to assign the most plausible reason for it in the following words:—“And though the exercise of every religion but the established one was prohibited by the statute, the violation of this law, by saying mass, and receiving the sacrament in private houses, was, in many instances, connived at; while, on the other hand, the Catholics, at the beginning of her reign, shewed little reluctance against going to church, or frequenting the ordinary duties of public worship. The Pope, sensible that this practice would by degrees reconcile all his partisans to the Reformed religion, hastened the publication of the bull, which excommunicated the queen, and freed her subjects from their oath of allegiance; and great pains were taken by the emissaries of Rome to render the breach between the two religions as wide as possible, and to make the frequenting of Protestant churches appear highly criminal in the Catholics. These practices, with the rebellion which ensued, increased the vigilance and severity of the government; but the Romanists, if their condition were compared with that of the nonconformists in other countries, and with their own maxims where they domineered, could not justly complain of violence or persecution.”[146]

The truth of this assertion is rendered still more evident by a petition of the English Catholic priests themselves, addressed to the Pope, in which they say, “That those fathers (the Jesuits) were the sole authors of all the troubles which agitated the English Church; that, previous to the Jesuits’ COMING TO ENGLAND, NO CATHOLIC HAD BEEN ACCUSED OF HIGH TREASON; that they no sooner made their appearance in Great Britain, than the aspect of things began to undergo a change; that their political ambition was manifest; and that they had set a price on the crown, and put the kingdom to auction.”[147] These were the times and the circumstances in which, on the 20th of November 1581, Campion and fifteen other priests were brought to trial at Westminster. They were all condemned, and three Jesuits, Campion, Sherwin, and Briant, were publicly executed. Crétineau and the other Jesuit historians give them the name of martyrs. Hume, on the contrary, following the historians of the epoch, says, that “Campion was detected in treasonable practices, and being put to the rack, confessed his guilt, and was publicly executed.”[148] It is repeatedly affirmed in the _Justitia Britannica_, and partly proved, that they were convicted of treason and conspiracy against the life of the queen. One strong proof against Campion, was the production of a letter which he had found means to forward to Father Pond, another Jesuit prisoner in the Tower, and in which he writes:—“I feel in myself courage enough, and I hope I shall have the strength, not to let drop from my mouth one single word which may be prejudicial to the Church of God, no matter what may be the torments.”[149] But we repeat, even though proofs had been deficient for a strictly legal condemnation, there is, nevertheless, a strong moral certitude of their having been conspirators, purposely sent into England to cause a revolt, and, if possible, to procure the assassination of the queen. Thus, whatever may be the objection raised against the legality of the form, no one will deny the substantial justice by which they were punished.

After the capture of Campion, Parson, like a prudent general, not wishing to risk his own person, on which so much depended, left England for France, where, feeling himself secure, he gave vent to his hatred, poured out curses and maledictions on the whole English nation, and set on foot new plots and new conspiracies. In conjunction with Dr Allen, the Guises, and the Bishop of Glasgow (Mary’s Resident at the court of France), he sent over to Scotland Father Creighton, for the purpose of converting James VI. to Romanism, and of exciting him to join the Pope and the King of Spain in war against England, promising him money and all sorts of favours from both these monarchs. Creighton frequently crossed over from France to Scotland to effect this league; and once, when on his way, the vessel in which he was conveyed being seized, he tore some papers, with the design of throwing them into the sea, but the wind blowing them back upon the deck, the pieces were arranged together, and brought to light some dangerous secrets.[150]

The famous William Parry was detected about the same time. This man, who had received the queen’s pardon for a crime deserving capital punishment, went to travel. He repaired to Venice, where he was persuaded by Father Palmio, the Provincial of the Jesuits in that locality, that he could not do a more meritorious action than kill his sovereign and benefactress. Campeggio, the Pope’s nuncio, approved of this; and Ragazzoni, the Pope’s legate in Paris, to confirm him in this criminal enterprise, promised him from the Holy See, not only absolution, but also the Pope’s paternal benediction, and a plenary indulgence for all his sins. Morgan, a Catholic gentleman residing in Paris, gave him additional encouragement. Parry returned to England, where, after some delay, he disclosed his design to Nevil, who resolved to have a share in the merit of its execution. Both determined to sacrifice their lives in the fulfilment of a duty which they were taught was agreeable to the will of God, and for the interests of the true religion. But while they were watching for a fit opportunity to put this execrable parricide into execution, the Earl of Westmoreland died in exile; and as Nevil was the next heir to the family possessions, he, in the hope of being put into the family estates and honours, betrayed the whole conspiracy. Parry was arrested, and confessed his guilt both to the ministry and to the jury who tried him. The letter of the Cardinal of Como, in which he announced to Parry that the Holy Father sent him absolution, his blessing, and plenary indulgence, was produced before the court, and put Parry’s declaration beyond all doubt.[151] He was condemned, and received the punishment due to his treason. Parry, among other revelations, said that he had informed Father Creighton of his purpose; and as this Jesuit was in prison at the time, he was examined concerning Parry. At first he denied all acquaintance with him, but he subsequently wrote to Walsingham, confessing that Parry had indeed declared to him his intention of taking the queen’s life, and had also asked his opinion on the matter; that he (Creighton) answered that it was not lawful to do so, _omnino non liceret_; that, on being pressed by Parry, whether, to save the bodies and souls of many, it was not lawful to take away a single life, he, the Jesuit, answered, that even in this case one ought not to attempt such a deed without, at least, _feeling an inspiration from above_.[152] This answer, in my opinion, was more apt to inflame the fanaticism of the man than to check him in his parricidal projects. And yet this was all that Creighton could say in his own justification. Now it is astonishing with what impudence Crétineau tries to pervert the truth of this affair. Listen to his narrative. He pretends that Walsingham had sent Parry to the Continent in order to test the fidelity of the Jesuits; that he revealed to many of them his design to murder Elizabeth, and was dissuaded by all from the committal of such an abominable crime; that, being introduced by an English gentleman (Morgan, no doubt) to the Pope’s legate, Ragazzoni, he, Parry, presented to him a petition, craving the holy father’s blessing, and absolution of his sins; that, having returned to England, he was introduced to the queen, to whom he related that the Jesuits, and the partisans of Mary Stewart, had excited him to take away her life; that he was not credited by the queen; that he had subsequently fallen into indigence; that misery and despair had inspired him with the thought of executing in reality the imaginary crime which he pretended to have meditated with the Jesuits.[153] And to explain Cardinal Como’s letter, he adds—“As to the Pope’s indulgences and absolution, no matter how great these favours may appear to the eyes of the pious and the faithful, _aux yeux de la pieté, et de la foi_, it must, nevertheless, be confessed, that every one may obtain them without being obliged to assassinate a heretic princess.”[154] Although the absurdity of these justifications be already quite manifest, we shall suggest one or two observations. What interest could Walsingham have had in sending Parry to know the opinion of the Jesuits upon the projected murder of the queen? These Jesuits were safe from the minister’s anger, since they were in foreign countries. Parry did not set plots on foot which should involve many persons, whose names it might have been useful to know; he did not ask to be made privy to any secret, or to be sent back to England directed to some Popish partisan to discover and betray him. No—he was only sent for the pleasure of knowing what answer the Jesuits would give to his question—“May I, or may I not, kill the queen?” But Walsingham was not only a stupid, he was also an ungrateful, minister. He employed a man in a most serious and delicate affair, he disclosed to that same man dangerous and rather disgraceful secrets, and that man, immediately after he had accomplished his mission, was driven to extremities for want of food! Alas! Monsieur Crétineau, your attempted justification proves the culpability of your Jesuits more forcibly than any other proof could.

A severe law was now passed by parliament against the Jesuits. The law enacted that they should depart the kingdom within forty days; that those who should remain beyond that time, or should afterwards return, should be guilty of treason; that those who harboured or relieved them should be guilty of felony; that those who were educated in seminaries, if they did not return in six months after notice given, and did not submit themselves to the queen, before a bishop, or two justices, should be guilty of treason; and that, if any so submitting themselves, should within ten years approach the court, or come within ten miles of it, their submission should be void.[155]

Of fifty or sixty Jesuits, a part being frightened, left England of their own accord, while the rest were discovered and sent away, but only to become still more dangerous enemies. We beg to quote a passage from Hume regarding the too famous conspiracy of Babington, which passage exactly expresses our ideas upon the subject:—

“The English seminary at Rheims had wrought themselves up to a high pitch of rage and animosity against the queen. The recent persecutions from which they had escaped; the new rigours which they knew awaited them in the course of their missions; the liberty which at present they enjoyed, of declaiming against that princess; and the contagion of that religious fury which everywhere surrounded them in France;—all these causes had obliterated within them every maxim of common sense, and every principle of morals or humanity. Intoxicated with admiration of the Divine power and infallibility of the Pope, they revered his bull, by which he excommunicated and deposed the queen; and some of them had gone to that height of extravagance as to assert, that the performance had been immediately dictated by the Holy Ghost. The assassination of heretical sovereigns, and of that princess in particular, was represented as the most meritorious of all enterprises; and they taught, that whoever perished in such attempts, enjoyed without dispute the glorious and never-fading crown of martyrdom. By such doctrines they instigated a man of desperate courage, who had served some years in the low countries under the Prince of Parma, to attempt the life of Elizabeth; and this assassin having made a vow to persevere in his design, was sent over to England, and recommended to the confidence of the more zealous Catholics.”[156]

It would be too tedious to follow the Jesuits in all their machinations against both the queen and the state, neither would it afford any additional instruction. We shall pass in silence the efforts of Father Garnet to raise a revolt when the Invincible Armada was approaching. We shall not even quote a passage from Crétineau, where he confesses without the least hesitation that Philip II. had sent a host of Jesuits along with the Armada, while Father Solarez by his order went on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem to implore Divine aid for its success. We shall not further demonstrate, that if they were not the prime movers of every plot, they were at least implicated less or more in them all. Nor shall we detain our readers with details of the deeds they performed in Scotland, where their influence depended in great part, as the Jesuits assert, upon the state of friendship between James and Elizabeth. We shall merely translate a single passage from their historian:—“After the death of Mary Stuart,” says Crétineau, “James seemed disposed to break up all intercourse with England; and, that this rupture might be the better publicly attested, James not only granted to the Jesuits a free access into his dominions, but also himself invited them to come.”[157] We give this quotation as we find it, without being responsible for its veracity; but it will be sufficient to prove that the Jesuits, even from the confession of their own party, were the most perfidious and dangerous enemies that England ever had to contend with. And as they were then, so they are still. If they hated England and Queen Elizabeth in the 16th century, they bear no less hate to England and Queen Victoria in the 19th. Let an opportunity present itself, and you shall see them again heading the rebellion, and preaching murder as the most meritorious of all actions. Nor do they remain inactive while waiting for the opportunity. Their evil genius is constantly present and active. Many are the parents whose last days are saddened with the thought that their children have forsaken the green pastures and the untainted waters of pure gospel truth, for the turbid waters of adulterous Babylon,—these children, once the worshippers of God, now the idolaters of man, whom some disguised son of Loyola, skilfully insinuating himself into their young minds and unsuspecting hearts, has seduced from the right path. These riots, that blood spilt at Stockport, Dublin, Belfast, and elsewhere—the attempted beginning of a civil war—believe me, is due to the Jesuits, some of whom, while in the confessional or in the midst of private circles they speak with feigned devotion of the infallibility and supremacy of their Church, always find means, at the same time, of exciting, indirectly it may be, the ignorant and the bigoted against the Protestants; while the hypocritical occupation of others in the public streets will be to pour out torrents of bitter invectives against the abominations of the Court of Rome, and stir up the worst passions of the Protestants against their fellow-citizens the Papists! What, it may naturally be asked, could prompt the latter to such infernal wickedness? The accomplishment, I answer, of their mysterious designs, though this should be at the cost of the blood of thousands of their unoffending fellow-beings. Such demoniacal perfidy might well, to the honour of mankind, be scarcely credited; but listen to what I am going to relate. The fact is unfortunately too notorious to be contradicted, and will go far to afford an insight into the character of the Jesuits. In our last struggle, in that mortal combat which we, poor and inexperienced as we were, fought single-handed against the Pope and all his supporters, for civil and religious liberty, when Rome was besieged and the trumpet sounded daily for battle, a man of prepossessing appearance, wearing a beard and moustache, was seen going about from place to place, praising the soldiers for their valour, encouraging the citizens not to desert their walls, inflaming the minds of the youth with the glory of dying for one’s country, and cursing the French, the Pope, and especially the Jesuits. No one knew who he was, but many a one admired him, and gave him credit for being an ardent patriot. One day, however, some of the National Guards perceived a sort of telegraph on a house behind the Quirinal, almost over the wall of the city, and which belonged to the Jesuits. They forced an entrance into the premises, and there found three persons making signals to the enemy. These three were Jesuits, and one of them was recognised as the very incognito who, a few hours previously, was encouraging the people to fight. They were arrested, and when on their way to the state prison, the Jesuit wearing the moustache being recognised by some women, they tore him from the hands of the escort, stabbed him, and threw both him and his companions into the Tiber. Five persons were afterwards taken and executed _under suspicion_ of being accomplices in this criminal action. I beg to be excused for having indulged in these remarks. They are wrung from a man who has witnessed many of their iniquities, and experienced much of their perfidy. I may, however, assure the reader that the narrator will not be influenced by these recollections.

PORTUGAL.

If the conduct of the Jesuits in Portugal was not of so criminal a nature as in England, it was certainly far more bold, and productive of more disastrous consequences to the Portuguese nation. We have already seen that the Jesuits had, from the very first, acquired great influence in that country, an influence which, after the death of John III., became paramount. During and after the minority of Don Sebastian, the Jesuits were the confessors of all the royal family. Consalves de Camera was first the tutor and afterwards the confessor of the young king, and possessed such an ascendancy over his mind, that nothing important was done without his consent or that of his brother Martin, Count of Calhette. Catherine of Austria, sister of Charles V., and grandmother to the king, a wise and clear-sighted princess, dismissed her confessor, and complained to General Borgia of the domineering spirit of the Jesuits. For this she was deprived of the regency, which devolved on Cardinal Henry, devoted both soul and body to the order. Meanwhile Don Sebastian had reached manhood, and the nation was impatient to see him married, that the line of royal descent might be unbroken. A French princess, and a daughter of the emperor Maximilian, were considered fit matches, but were both rejected. The Jesuits were accused of preventing Don Sebastian from marrying, with the design of making a Jesuit of him, and then becoming heirs to his throne. Strange as this accusation may appear, yet it is true in its principal part. Let us first listen to what Pasquier, a contemporary historian, and a celebrated advocate of the Parliament of Paris, says on the point:—“The Jesuits, shrewd and well advised as they were, saw that this territory (Portugal) was a proper soil to make their vine-tree fruitful, and, in order that they might the better succeed in their projects, on their very entrance into the kingdom they caused themselves to be called not Jesuits, but apostles, comparing themselves with those who followed our Lord, and they are there still designated by the same name. The sovereignty having fallen into the hands of Don Sebastian, these good apostles thought that the kingdom of Portugal would soon become the property of their community; and they frequently solicited him that no one should in future be King of Portugal except a Jesuit, and chosen by their own order, in the same way that the Popes at Rome are elected by the College of Cardinals. And because the king, although superstitious as superstition itself, could not, or, to speak more correctly, dared not, subscribe to their wishes, they persuaded him that it had been so ordered by God, as he himself would hear by a voice from heaven near the sea-shore. This poor prince was so misled as to go there two or three times, but they could not act their part so well as to make him hear the voice. They had not as yet in their company an impostor to rival Justinian, who in Rome was able to counterfeit the leprous. These gentlemen, perceiving that they could not gain their ends by this way, did not, however, give up the pursuit. This king, Jesuit from his soul, would not marry. In order to render themselves still more important, they advised him to march against the kingdom of Fez, where he was killed in a pitched battle. This was the fruit which Don Sebastian reaped for having believed the Jesuits. What I have just related I learned from the deceased Marquis of Pisani, an excellent Roman Catholic, and the French ambassador at the Spanish court.”[158] For our own part, while we are convinced of the truth of the selfish plot, we do not entirely agree with Pasquier in regard to the end which he attributes to them. Bold and daring as they are, they would not have braved popular opinion with such impudence. They were too clear-sighted not to be aware that the European courts would not permit them to have the possession of the throne. Yet Pasquier did not invent this piece of romance himself. The same, or nearly the same, story was repeated throughout all Europe. And this is so true, that Father Maggio, Provincial of Austria, wrote to Borgia from Prague, in the year 1571, in the following manner:—“Here the people talk of nothing else than of the Portuguese affairs. Despatches come from Spain, announcing that the king often acts so as to alarm the whole nation. They add, that our brethren (_les nôtres_) are the instigators of such conduct; that they wish to make a Jesuit of the king; and there are not wanting those who assert, that they (_les nôtres_) have alone prohibited him from marrying the French king’s sister.”[159]

This letter evidently shews that all Europe believed that the Jesuits were masters of Portugal, and that they had the disposal of the crown almost entirely at their will. Moreover, as we have seen, the Jesuits were accused of having instigated the impetuous king to undertake the conquest of Morocco, in which attempt he lost both his life and his kingdom.

Let us, however, to be impartial, listen to their justification. Crétineau asserts that these accusations were calumnies, and gives us the following as proof:—On the marriage question, he produces part of a letter written by the accused Father Consalves himself, in which, after having contradicted most of the calumniations which had been heaped upon him, he adds—“So, if I have anything to reproach myself with, it is for insisting too much that the marriage might take place. Those who told the Pope that the heart of the king was in my hands, and that I can direct his affections as I please, think of Sebastian what they would believe of any other young man of his age.... But he is obstinate, and in this matter he remains immovable to all my advices.”[160] We shall scarcely be blamed, however, if we confess ourselves sceptical regarding the truth of these justifications.

To exculpate the fathers for having induced the king to undertake the expedition against Morocco, Crétineau quotes a passage from Mendoza, a man entirely devoted to the Jesuits, in which he simply asserts, “That all the Jesuits were opposed to the expedition to Africa.” These two lines, written long after the event, and by a partisan of the order, constitute the only proof of their innocence which the Jesuits can adduce.

After such attempted justifications, there can remain no doubt that the Jesuits wrested the crown from the head of Don Sebastian, to place it upon that of Philip II. Philip was at that time the friend and the most powerful supporter of the Jesuits. He was the chief of the Roman Catholic party—the hope of the Papists—the dread of the Protestants. These reasons, I believe, induced the Jesuits to accomplish this abominable treachery. At the death of Don Sebastian, Cardinal Henry assumed the name of king, and asked from the estates of Portugal that Philip should be declared his successor. They refused. Philip invaded Portugal. The Jesuits used all their influence in his favour, excommunicated Don Antonio de Crato, the legitimate heir of the crown, and placed Philip on the throne of their benefactors. We must observe, that we believe that neither the honest and conscientious Borgia nor the old and insignificant Mercurianus were privy to this treacherous transaction. They were persons in no way to be trusted with such secrets. It thus happened that the Portuguese monarchs, who first nursed these sons of Loyola in their bosoms, found that they had been giving life to a serpent, which now stung them to the heart. But unfortunately the example was lost; the Portuguese monarchs continued to submit to the Jesuits, and one of them, Joseph I., barely escaped falling under the poniard of the assassin hired by the fathers.

FRANCE.

We have seen the Jesuits executed in England as traitors. We beheld them in Portugal, as successful conspirators, dispose of a sceptre wrested from the hands of their benefactors. We shall now see them in France acting the part of traitors, conspirators, and regicides, and the principal cause of an indescribable evil. We have already mentioned the famous _arrêt_ (decision) of 1554, by which the parliament of Paris refused to admit the Jesuits into the kingdom. From this time, down to the year 1562, the disciples of Loyola had repeatedly obtained from the French sovereign letters patent authorising their establishment; but the parliament by repeated _arrêts_ refusing to register them, rendered these letters nugatory, and the contest went on, with no prospect of decision. The king, the Guises, and a party of the nobles, sided with the Jesuits. The parliament, the university, the Bishop of Paris and his clergy, were against them. The principal objection to the admission of the Jesuits which was advanced by their adversaries was, that they had obtained from the Court of Rome privileges[161] which made them independent of the ordinary and of every other ecclesiastical authority. To obviate this objection, the Jesuits, in 1560, determined to carry their point, presented a petition to the king, in which they renounced their privileges, and solemnly engaged to respect the laws of the realm and those of the Gallican Church, and to submit to the jurisdiction of the ordinaries.[162] The court now imperatively commanded the parliament to admit the Jesuits. The Archbishop de Belley, vanquished by “the urgency of the court, from which he expected the Cardinal’s hat,”[163] partly withdrew his opposition, and gave his consent, but under so many restrictions, that, as Crétineau says, it was rather a protest against them than anything else. The parliament, which till now had withheld its consent, leaning on the archbishop’s opposition, now registered the king’s letters patent, but under the same restrictions; adding, that the Jesuits might appeal to the next national council or assembly. At this very time a national council was convened at Poissy, to put an end, if possible, to religious dissension, and heal the wounds of the Church. Catherine de Medici, whose favourite maxim was, _divide et imperia_, shewed herself impartial in this contest, thinking to retain the obedience of one party by the fear it had of the other. She herself, therefore, along with the king and the whole court, assisted at the Council of Poissy. We shall not enter into the theological discussions of this assembly. We shall only say, that although a Roman Catholic cardinal presided over and directed it, and although the Roman Catholics had a large majority, yet the eloquence of the Calvinistic divines, and especially that of Beza, was so overpowering, that Lainez, after having had a thrust or two at the redoubted champion, declared it to be almost a mortal sin to admit Protestants to a discussion; and by his advice, the Council broke up without any result.

The assembly, before it broke up, after a great deal of debating, decided that the Jesuits should be admitted on the condition that they submitted to the laws of the nation and of the Gallican Church, that the ordinary bishops should have all authority over them, and that they should renounce all their privileges, and take another name than “The Society of Jesus,” or “Jesuits.” By this decision, the Jesuit question was at last settled. Now, to shew with what facility these wily monks can renounce their most approved doctrines, and invent a new principle for every contingency, that they may succeed in any of their undertakings, we shall set forth the principal points of doctrine of the Gallican Church, which were already received in France, and which were more solemnly sanctioned in 1662.

“The Pope is the chief of the Roman Catholic religion, but he can neither excommunicate the king, nor lay an interdict upon the kingdom; nor has he any jurisdiction over temporal matters; nor can he dismiss the bishops from their office, who hold their power from Christ as his successors, and who, when he ascended up into heaven, bade them go and preach the gospel to every creature. The Pope’s legate cannot exercise any authority in France, unless empowered by the king. An appeal from the sentence of the Pope is permitted to be made to a general council, which possesses a power superior to that of the Pope; but even the decrees of council are not received in France, when they attack the rights of the king, or those of the Gallican Church; for which reason the Council of Trent itself was received in France regarding articles of faith, but not regarding matters of discipline.”[164]

These were the principal points to which the Jesuits swore conformity. How despicable must be the man who is ready to take a special oath for every occasion, and to invoke the God of truth to witness his perjury and infamy!

The Jesuits had no sooner set their foot in France than they began to spread rapidly over the country, and soon after aspired to enter the university and monopolise the whole of the education of the youth. With part of the immense fortune bequeathed to them by the Bishop of Clermont, of which they at last got possession, notwithstanding the opposition of the parliament, they built a college in the Rue St Jacques, near the Sorbonne, and, pretending to obey the orders of the parliament, which enjoined them to renounce the name of the Society of Jesus, they inscribed on the front of it, “College of the Society of the _Name_ of Jesus.” But the university would not admit them into its bosom, notwithstanding all the intrigues of the fathers and the orders of the Court. Of this protracted contest, which terminated in favour of the Jesuits in 1616, we shall only transcribe part of an apology addressed by the university to Pope Gregory XIII.—“We do not,” wrote the university, “vex either churches or private persons; we do not trouble the order of succession; we do not solicit testaments in prejudice of the heirs, or appropriate the profits to our own interest; we do not plot devices to seize upon the benefices of the monasteries, or of any other ecclesiastical establishment, to enrich ourselves with their property, without being subject to the conditions imposed by the founders; we do not make use of the name of Jesus to deceive the consciences of princes, affirming that no one remains longer than ten years in purgatory.”[165]

Our history is becoming too pregnant with grave events to allow us to relate matters of secondary importance. We shall therefore bring down our readers to the year 1577, when was formed the celebrated league which gave occasion to the bloody and protracted civil wars of France, and of which the Jesuits were the chief instigators.

Remorse for the massacre of St Bartholomew had deprived Charles IX. of his reason, and brought him to an early grave. His brother, Henry III., who succeeded him, either awed by the fate of Charles, or occupied only with his pleasures, allowed those same Protestants whom, as Duke of Anjou, he had defeated at Moncontour and other places, to live in peace. Henry’s indolence favoured the ambitious views of the Duke of Guise, who aspired at nothing less than the throne of France. He and his partisans, particularly the Jesuits, stirred up the fanaticism of the more bigoted of the citizens against the king, who, although a scrupulous observer of all those external practices in which the Popish religion chiefly consists, was considered by the Church party a bad Catholic. A remedy was to be found, lest France should become a Protestant country. An association was accordingly set on foot, which took the name of the League, or “Holy Union.” The vulgar saw in it the bulwark of the faith—Philip of Spain, indirectly the sovereignty of France—and Henry of Guise, the throne. The members of this association took the following oath:—“I swear to God, the Creator, and under penalty of anathema and eternal damnation, that I have entered into this Catholic Association, according to the form of the treaty which has just been read to me, loyally and sincerely either to command, or to obey and serve; and I promise with my life and my honour, to continue therein to the last drop of my blood, without resisting it or withdrawing from it, at any command, or any pretext, excuse, or occasion whatsoever.”[166] In 1577, Guise was declared chief of the League; and in 1584, he, a subject, had the audacity to enter publicly into a confederacy with Philip II. of Spain. The Articles of Alliance purported, “that a confederacy, offensive and defensive, was entered into betwixt the king and the Catholic princes in behalf of themselves and their descendants, for the maintenance of the Roman Catholic religion in France as well as the Low Countries: and, on the death of Henry III., to take measures that Cardinal de Bourbon should be appointed his successor; the heretic and relapsed princes being for ever excluded from the right of succession.”[167]

Henry III.’s position became very precarious. The Guises were in possession of many of the chief towns, and Duke Henry was the idol of the people. The king, to avoid the impending danger, feigned to adhere to the League—declared himself its chief—waged war with the Protestants—and consented to give more towns and places of security into the hands of his enemies. Nevertheless the king’s opponents remitted nothing of their hostility, and filled the nation with hatred of his person, venting itself in curses and imprecations. In Paris, the stronghold of the League, the question was publicly discussed whether Henry should be deposed. The king advanced towards the capital with some troops. Guise hastened to it against the king’s express command. The people took up arms—barricades were erected—the royal army was defeated—and the king obliged to fly.[168] Maffei and Crétineau reproach the Duke of Guise for allowing him to escape uninjured. Henry, concealing his hatred, feigned again to submit, summoned a parliament to meet at Blois, and conferred upon Guise almost unlimited power over the kingdom. But in the very moment in which he saw within his grasp the prize which he so eagerly sought, he fell, along with his brother the cardinal, in the royal palace, a victim of the king’s revenge. Thus Guise perished, not, as he deserved, by the sword of justice, but by the poniard of an assassin. The deed cannot be excused. The League thundered anathemas against the king; the University of Paris excommunicated him; and the parliament declared that “the aforesaid Henry of Valois should be condemned to make honourable amends, dressed only in his shirt, with a rope about his neck, assisted by the executioner, and holding in his hand a lighted torch weighing thirty pounds; that from that moment he should be deposed, and declared unworthy of the crown of France; and that, renouncing all right to it, he should be afterwards banished and placed in a convent of the Hieromites, there to fast on bread and water for the rest of his days.”[169]

Priests and Jesuits from every pulpit poured out volleys of curses upon that tyrant, who deserved to be swept from the face of the earth. And while the king, now in league with Henry of Navarre, was marching towards Paris, Clement, a Dominican friar, stabbed him at St Cloud, on the first of August 1589.

Great was the consternation of the royalists, and greater the rejoicing of the adverse party, at this tragic event. The Council of Seize[170] met on the 6th of September, and addressed a letter to all the preachers, in which, among other things, was the following exhortation:—“You must justify Jacques Clement’s deed, because it is the same as that of Judith, which is so much commended in Holy Writ.”[171] Henry of Bourbon, king of Navarre, the legitimate heir, after the death of Henry III., assumed the title of king of France, and was supported by the less bigoted of the Roman Catholics and by all the Calvinists. The Cardinal de Bourbon, on the other hand, also took the title of king, and was supported by the fanatic Papists, headed by all the priests and monks in the kingdom. Philip of Spain, the life and guardian of the League, sent an army to its aid; and the Pope despatched Cardinal Cajetan, accompanied by two Jesuits, with large sums of money, to foment and maintain the revolt against the excommunicated Henry IV.

Sixtus V. at first shewed great zeal in opposing the right of the heretic Henry of Navarre.[172] He promised to send 18,000 infantry and 700 horse into France. He threatened the Venetians with excommunication for having acknowledged Henry IV. as king, and for once relaxed the reins of his well-known parsimony, by sending his legate a sum of money to continue the war in France. But, when he perceived what were the projects of Philip; when he learned that that monarch proposed to marry his daughter the Infanta to the young Duke of Guise, who was to assume the title of king; and when Les Seize, instigated by the Jesuits, renouncing every national feeling, went so far as to proclaim Philip king of France, Sixtus, afraid of the domineering spirit of Philip, and the absolute power he would acquire if successful in his design, relaxed in his enmity towards Henry—expressed regret for having excommunicated him—and gave other tokens of the change his opinion had undergone. The legate, however, disregarding the Pope’s intentions, carried out his first instructions with unremitting zeal.[173]

The civil war, with all its horrors, lasted for five years. To shorten it, Henry descended to an act which has tarnished his glory, and the fame of his virtue. He abjured the doctrines of Calvinism to enter into communion with the Church of Rome, which he despised, and excused himself by saying, “Paris vaut bien une messe”—Paris is well worth a mass.[174]

But his apostasy availed him little. The Parisians continued firm against him. The monks, and especially the Jesuits, encouraged them in their resistance. Priests and soldiers simultaneously, they passed from the pulpit to the besieged walls, replacing the sacerdotal robes by a coat of mail, the crucifix by a spear. Solemn processions crossed the town and called upon the people to be firm in defence of their faith, trusting in God to protect them and to bless their impious enterprise. The Pope’s legate, dressed in his pontifical robes, was foremost in these processions, and supported the fanaticism of the multitude, to whom he dispensed a thousand benisons. On the other hand, Mendoza, the Spanish ambassador, the same who, after the assassination of Henry, wrote to his master, “We must ascribe this happy event to the Almighty alone”—Mendoza, to divert the hunger of the deluded Parisians, distributed, in the name of his Most Catholic Majesty Philip, some Spanish coin to the populace, who, thus encouraged, raised the shout, “Long life to our king Philip!” It is painful to think of all the horrors which this misguided people endured while they listened to the persuasions of the priests to persist in their rebellion. At last hunger, all-powerful hunger, proved stronger than the king’s army. Famished Paris yielded, and Henry ascended the throne of his ancestors.

Thus ended the League. Let us now see what share the Jesuits had in it. Mezarai, speaking of the League, says, “The zealous Catholics were the chief instruments in it; the new monks (the Jesuits) the paranymphs and trumpeters; and the nobles of the kingdom the authors and chiefs.”[176] From its very beginning, the Jesuits were the most ardent promoters of the League. They ran from place to place, from country to country, to enlist new supporters, and to strengthen the tie of the holy union. Claude Matthieu, the Provincial, went several times from Paris to Rome, to obtain the Pope’s approval of the holy union.[177] He was called the messenger of the League; and Pasquier, in his old, quaint style, in speaking of another Jesuit, says, “As the Company of the Jesuits was composed of all sorts of people, _les uns pour la plume, les autres pour le poil_, so they had among them one Father Henry Sammier, a man inclined and adapted to all kinds of daring.[178] He was sent by the League in 1581 to various Catholic princes _pour sonder le gué_, to sound the ford; and, to speak the truth, they could not have chosen a fitter man, for he changed himself into as many different forms as the different affairs he had to undertake—sometimes dressed as a trooper, sometimes as a priest, sometimes as a simple beggar. He was acquainted with cards, dice, ... as well as with his canonical hours; and in doing this, he said that he could not sin, since it was to arrive at a good end.”[179] But, without referring to ancient authors, two lines from Crétineau will say more than we could. “It was at this epoch” (1584), says he, “that the League acquired all its consistency, and it is at the same epoch that you may see the Jesuits in Paris, Lyons, Toulouse, _joining the insurrection and organising it_.”[180] And of this insurrection, or civil war, Pasquier, an eye-witness, says,—“It was less a civil war than a _coupe-gorge_—a cut-throat. The colleges of the Jesuits were, as was notorious, the general rendezvous of persons hostile to the king. There were fabricated their gospels in cipher—_se forgoient leurs Evangiles en chiffre_—which they sent into foreign countries. There their apostles were distributed among the different provinces, some, to keep the troubles alive by their preaching, as did Father Commolet in Paris, and Father Rouillet at Bourges; others, to preach murder and assassination, as did Father Varade and the same Father Commolet.”[181] But we need not multiply quotations to prove that they had a great share in exciting these troubles. They themselves confess it with pride. In their _Litteræ Annuæ_ of 1589, they represent the murder of the king as a miracle which happened the very day they were expelled from Bordeaux. When Clement’s mother came to Paris, the Jesuits called upon the people to worship her; the portrait of the assassin, now called a martyr, was exposed on the altars to public veneration, and they even proposed to erect a statue to him in the cathedral of Notre Dame.

We will, however, admit that all the Jesuits were not fanatic Leaguers; not because they disapproved of the League, but simply from good policy, or from interested motives. Auger, the king’s confessor, and who wished to be provincial, sided with his penitent; and the General Acquaviva, the ablest and most profound politician of his time, disapproved of the Society’s engaging so deeply with one party as to cause the ruin of the order if the other triumphed. He forbade the Jesuits who were in France to take part in the contest (which advice, however, they disregarded), and begged permission of the Pope to command his subordinate Father Matthieu to leave France, and betake himself to a distant country—which clearly proves, that the Jesuits in France acted under the Pope’s own authority. “But Sixtus V.,” says Crétineau, “was not so gentle as Gregory XIII.; when he met an enemy, he fought with him; accordingly he answered the General that the Leaguers acted very rightly, and only did their duty.”[182] Acquaviva, however, was as jealous of his authority as the imperious and terrible Sixtus. When Father Matthieu arrived at Loretto on his return to France, the General ordered him not to leave the town without his consent; and the poor messenger died a few months after, from sheer inactivity. Auger, for reasons unknown to us, was recalled. Another provincial, Father Pigenat, was sent to France—a man who, in the language of De Thou, “was a furious Leaguer, and as fanatic as a Corybante,” and who, according to Arnauld, “was the most cruel tiger that prowled through Paris.” In fact, after his arrival, the Jesuits became still more audacious, and engaged in more criminal proceedings.

After Henry IV. had abjured the Protestant faith, and when he was at Melun, a man was arrested on suspicion of having come thither to make an attempt upon his life. Barrière—such was the assassin’s name—to escape the torture, acknowledged his guilt. He confessed that having consulted with Aubrey, a curate of Paris, regarding his project, he was highly commended, and sent to Varade, the rector of the Jesuits, who confirmed him in his praiseworthy resolution, and gave him his benediction; that next morning he confessed to another Jesuit, and received the communion. Barrière repeated on the scaffold the declaration he had already made; and Pasquier, who was at Melun at the time, declares that he had examined the culprit, had read the informations and depositions, and even handled the knife with which the crime was to have been perpetrated.[183] Mezarai confirms the testimony of Pasquier in the most unequivocal manner. “When the king,” says he, “had reduced Paris to submission, he gave a safe-conduct to the Cardinal of Plaisance, who had acted with so much energy against him, and granted him permission to take with him Aubrey, curate of St André des Arcs, and the Jesuit Varade, although culpable of participating in the horrible assassination of Barrière.”[184]

Barrière was executed, but his fate did not deter other fanatics from making similar attempts, nor the Jesuits from giving them encouragement. A few months after Henry had made his entrance into Paris, a youth of nineteen, named John Chastel, raised an impious hand against the king. The blow was aimed at his throat, but happening to bend his head at the instant to salute one of his courtiers, it only wounded his lips. Chastel was a student of philosophy in the Jesuits’ College under Father Gueret. He confessed that “in the Jesuits’ house, he had been often in the chamber of meditation, into which the Jesuits introduced the greatest sinners, where they were shewn the pictures of devils and other frightful figures to induce them to lead a better life, and, by working upon their spirits, to induce them by these admonitions to perform some extraordinary deed.” He further confessed that he had heard the Jesuits say “that it was lawful to kill the king, since he was out of the Church; and that no one ought to obey him, or acknowledge him as king, till he should be approved of by the Pope.”[185] The murderer, on his examination, boldly maintained this last proposition; and “this avowal,” says Mezarai, “joined to the injurious libels against Henry III. and the reigning king; joined to the ardour which the Jesuits had shewn for the interests of Spain, and to the doctrines their preachers had propounded against the security of the king, and against the ancient law of the kingdom; joined also to the opinion held of them, that by means of their colleges and auricular confession, they directed the minds of the youth and timid consciences to whatever they pleased, gave an opportunity to the parliament to involve the Society in his punishment.”[186] In fact, the parliament, by the same _arrêt_ (29th Dec. 1594), by which Chastel was condemned to the punishment of the parricide, enacted that “the priests and scholars of Clermont College, and all others of the so-called Society of Jesus, as corrupters of youth, disturbers of the public peace, enemies to the king and the state, shall, three days after the present intimation, be obliged to leave Paris and other towns and places where they have colleges, and, within a fortnight after, the kingdom; under the penalty, if found in France after that time, of being punished for high treason. Their property, movable and immovable, shall be employed for charitable purposes, and all the king’s subjects, under the same penalty, are forbidden to send pupils to the colleges of the Society which are beyond the territories of the kingdom.”[187]

All the Jesuits, except Fathers Gueret and Guinard, who were arrested, were expelled from France. Gueret, against whom no substantial proofs of being an accomplice with Chastel, could be produced, was soon after liberated from prison and banished. This is a striking proof of the justice and rectitude of the parliament. Guinard, in whose possession were found most abominable writings, subversive of every principle of justice and morality,[188] was condemned and executed; in conformity with a proclamation issued some months before by the king, in which it was ordered that all books and writings referring to the past troubles should be burned, under pain of death. Crétineau confesses the fact, but exculpates the man, by saying that these writings were composed in the time of the League in the year 1589. But this assertion is contradicted by the quotation we have given in the note, which shews that some of them at least were composed after Henry’s abjuration, which occurred four years later, in 1593. And again, if they _had_ been written at the time specified, why did he not burn them, in obedience to the king’s commandment?

Great horror was now felt throughout France at these repeated acts of regicide, with an abhorrence of the Jesuits, as the well-known instigators of such nefarious deeds. The parliament, the interpreter here of the public opinion (Henry having gained over to him many of his former opponents by his clemency and generosity), by another _arrêt_, January 10, 1595, ordered that Chastel’s house should be destroyed, and a pyramid be erected in its stead, to perpetuate the memory of his infamy and that of his associates. In consequence, four inscriptions were engraved on the four faces of this pyramid, in all of which, the name of Chastel was coupled with that of the Jesuits. In the first inscription, the assassin was described as impelled to the commission of the crime “by the pestilential heresy of that new sect (the Jesuits), which, concealing under the garb of piety the most atrocious crimes, had of late taught that it was lawful to kill the king.” In the second was the _arrêt_ of parliament, condemning Chastel and the Jesuits, part of which we have already given. In the third, the senate and the people of Paris congratulate the king on his having exterminated “that pestilential sect” (the Jesuits). And the fourth inscription was, “A house once stood here, which was destroyed for the guilt of one of its inhabitants, who had been instructed in a school of impiety by perverse masters.”[189] In 1605, the Jesuits were again powerful enough in France, to get the pyramid demolished; and in 1606 a fountain was erected in its place.

And this seems to us to be the proper place to lay before our readers the political creed of the Jesuits. Observe, the following extracts are taken from none but their most approved authors, and such as are held in high estimation among their brethren.

Emmanuel Sa. _Aphorismi Confessariorum._ (Venet. 1595. Coloniæ, 1616. Ed. Coll. Sion).—“The rebellion of an ecclesiastic against the king is not a crime of high treason, because he is not subject to the king.”

“He who tyrannically governs an empire, which he has justly obtained, cannot be deprived of it without a public trial; but when sentence has been passed, _every man may become an executor of it; and he may be deposed by the people, even although perpetual obedience were sworn to him, if, after admonition given, he will not be corrected_.”

John Bridgewater. _Concertatio Ecclesiæ Catholicæ in Anglia adversus Calvino-Papistas._ (Augustæ Trevirorum, 1594.)—“If the kings be the first to break their solemn league and oath, and violate the faith which they have pledged to God, the people are not only permitted, but they are required, and their duty demands, that, at the mandate of the Vicar of Christ, who is the sovereign pastor of all the nations of the earth, the fidelity which they previously owed or promised to such princes should not be kept.”

Robert Bellarmine. _Disputationes de Controversiis Christianæ Fidei adversus hujus temporis Hæreticos_, tom. I. (Ingolstadii, 1596. Parisiis, 1608. Ed. Mus. Brit.)—“The spiritual power, as a spiritual prince, may change kingdoms, and transfer them from one sovereign to another, if it should be necessary for the salvation of souls.”

“Christians may not tolerate an infidel or heretic king, if he endeavours to draw his subjects to his heresy or infidelity. But it is the province of the sovereign Pontiff, to whom the care of religion has been intrusted, to decide whether the king draws them to heresy or not. It is therefore for the Pontiff to determine whether the king is to be deposed or not.”

John Mariana. _De Rege et Regis Institutione libri tres._ (Moguntiæ, 1605.... 1640. Ed. Mus. Brit.)—“It is necessary to consider attentively what course should be pursued in deposing a prince, lest sin be added to sin, and one crime be punished by the commission of another. This is the shortest and the safest way;—_to deliberate, in a public meeting, if it can be held_, upon what should be determined by the common consent, and to consider as firmly fixed and established whatever may be resolved by the general opinion. In which case, the following course must be pursued. First of all, the prince must be admonished and brought back to his senses. If he does not amend, begin by refusing to obey him; ... and, if necessary, destroy with the sword that prince who has been declared a public enemy. But you will ask what is to be done if a public meeting cannot be held, which may very frequently happen. In my opinion, a similar judgment must be formed; for when the state is oppressed by the tyranny of any of the princes, and the people are deprived of the power of assembling, the _will_ to abolish the tyranny is not wanting, or to avenge the manifest and intolerable crimes of the prince, and to restrain his mischievous efforts: _I shall never consider that man to have done wrong, who, favouring the public wishes, would attempt to kill him!_”

Gabriel Vasquez. _Comment. et Disput. in primam Partem, et primam secundæ Summæ, S. Th. Aquinatis_, tom. II. (Ingolstadii, 1615. Antverpiæ, 1621. Ed. Coll. Sion.):—“If all the members of the royal family are heretics, a new election to the throne devolves on the state. For all his (the king’s) successors could be justly deprived of the kingdom by the Pope; because the preservation of the faith, which is of greater importance, requires that it should be so. But if the kingdom were thus polluted, the Pope, as supreme judge in the matters of the faith, might appoint a Catholic king for the good of the whole realm, and might place him over it by force of arms if it were necessary. For, the good of the faith and of religion, requires that the supreme head of the Church should provide a king for the state.”

Busembaum and Lacroix. _Theologia Moralis, nunc pluribus partibus aucta à R. P. Claudo Lacroix, Societatis Jesu._ (Coloniæ, 1757. Coloniæ Agrippinæ, 1733. Ed. Mus. Brit.);—“A man who has been excommunicated by the Pope may be killed anywhere, as Fillincius, Escobar, and Deaux teach; because the Pope has at least an indirect jurisdiction over the whole world, even in temporal things, as far as may be necessary for the administration of spiritual affairs, as all the Catholics maintain, and as Suarez proves against the King of England.”

Such were the principles and such the acts of the so-called soldiers of Christ, and such the just punishment inflicted on their crimes. We hardly find in history a sect, bearing the Christian name, convicted of so many and such atrocious crimes—so publicly stigmatised and held up to the just hatred of posterity. For if, in moments of feverish exaltation, political or religious fanatics of every denomination have perpetrated iniquitous and barbarous crimes, no other party has subsequently, in calmer times, accepted the responsibility of these crimes, and praised them as virtuous or meritorious actions. But there is no Jesuit, that I know of, who has ever impugned or disclaimed the doctrines I have just pointed out. My English readers ought seriously to meditate upon this fact, and upon those doctrines, to which the Jesuits still firmly adhere. Queen Victoria is in their eyes as much a heretic as Henry of Navarre, and I have no doubt that they wish her to meet with the same fate. I am an advocate for toleration, and abhor the very idea of persecution; but, most assuredly, without persecuting those priests and Jesuits, the most inveterate enemies of the Protestant religion, I would not countenance them, or encourage and support them by grants of public money. Theirs is not a religion of tolerance. They do not look upon other Christians as brethren, holding different forms of belief, or as, at worst, persons who have been misled by ignorance. No! in their view, every one who is not a Roman Catholic is an accursed heretic, condemned already, and, if he die in this condition, doomed to everlasting damnation. They are not content to be received to the rights of citizenship on terms of equality—they aspire to domination. What rights and privileges can they reasonably claim from persons towards whom they cherish such sentiments? Surely those Papists who would maintain their religion by persecution and tyranny, ought to be thankful, if they are suffered to live at peace and unmolested, in a Protestant country.

GERMANY.

While the Jesuits in France and in England, where the monarch was adverse to them, not only propounded the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people, but taught that every individual had a right to murder the king if he were disliked by the nation or accursed by the Pope—in Poland, Sweden, and Germany, where the population was adverse and the sovereign friendly to them, they inculcated the contrary doctrine, and did not scruple to enforce it by the most cruel and violent proceedings. In France and in England, Henry and Elizabeth had forfeited their thrones by holding the doctrines of the Reformation. In Sweden, the Jesuits compelled the Roman Catholic Sigismond to swear to maintain the Confession of Augsburg, that he might not be driven from his kingdom.[190] But in those countries, the Jesuits, being in close alliance with the civil power, were the cause of more mischief, and greatly injured the cause of truth and religion. The introduction of the Jesuits into the north of Europe was the signal for a powerful reaction against Protestantism; and they not only checked its progress, but, what is more strange, they succeeded in reviving an obsolete doctrine—the temporal supremacy of the Roman Church, which, after having for centuries governed almost the whole of Europe, had fallen into decay, and ought not, according to the ordinary course of human institutions, to exercise any further influence, since it had not undergone any material change or acquired a new prestige. Yet such was the case. Many were the requisites of success possessed by the Jesuits. Admirable unity of purpose—versatility of character—unscrupulous pliability of conscience—the confessional—the pulpit—the conviction that upon their first success depended the duration of their order, and, it must be added, their unexceptionable outward conduct, all rendered them in the highest degree fit for their task. But, above all, it was by the education of the youth, that they wrought such changes in Germany. It was, in fact, for this purpose that they were first introduced into the country. In one of the autograph letters that Ferdinand I. wrote to Loyola, he declares it to be his opinion, that the only means by which the declining tenets of Catholicism could be restored in Germany was, to supply the youth with learned and pious Catholic teachers.[191] The Jesuits entered into the king’s view with amazing activity and energy. They established themselves in Vienna in 1551, and soon after had the management of the university. Their second important establishment was at Cologne; the third, at Ingolstadt; and from these three principal points, they spread all over Germany. We think we cannot do better than transcribe a passage from Ranke on the project:—

“The efforts of the Jesuits were above all directed towards the universities. Their ambition was to rival the fame of those of the Protestants. The education of that day was a learned one merely, and was based exclusively on the study of the ancient languages. This the Jesuits prosecuted with earnest zeal, and in certain of their schools, they had very soon professors who might claim a place with the restorers of classical learning. Nor did they neglect the cultivation of the exact sciences. At Cologne, Franz Koster lectured on astronomy in a manner at once agreeable and instructive. But their principal object was still theological discipline, as will be readily comprehended. The Jesuits lectured with the utmost diligence even during the holidays, reviving the practice of disputations, without which they declared all instruction to be dead. These disputations, which they held in public, were conducted with dignity and decorum, were rich in matter, and altogether the most brilliant that had ever been witnessed. In Ingolstadt, they soon persuaded themselves that their progress in theology was such as would enable the university to compete successfully with any other in Germany. Ingolstadt now acquired an influence among Catholics similar to that possessed among Protestants by Wittemberg and Geneva. They next established schools for the poor—arranged modes of instruction adapted to children—and enforced the practice of catechising. Canisius prepared his catechism, which satisfied the wants of the learners by its well-connected questions and apposite replies.

“This instruction was imparted entirely in the spirit of that fanciful devotion, which had characterised the Jesuits from their earliest establishment. The first rector in Vienna was a Spaniard named Juan Victoria, a man who had signalised his entrance into the Society by walking along the Corso of Rome, during the festivities of the carnival, clothed in sackcloth, and scourging himself as he walked, till the blood streamed from him on all sides. The children educated in the Jesuit schools of Vienna were soon distinguished by their steadfast refusal of such food as was forbidden on fast-days, while their parents ate without scruple. In Cologne it was again become an honour to wear the rosary. Relics were once more held up to public reverence in Treves, where for many years no one had ventured to exhibit them. In the year 1560, the youth of Ingolstadt belonging to the Jesuit school walked two and two on a pilgrimage to Gichstadt, in order to be strengthened for their confirmation ‘by the dew that dropped from the tomb of St Walpurgis.’ The modes of thought and feeling thus implanted in the schools, were propagated by means of preaching and confession through the whole population.”[192]

We add to all this, that their instructions were gratuitous, and that the pupils made such rapid progress, that they were found to have learned more in six months in a Jesuit school, than in two years anywhere else. Many were the Protestants who sent their children to the Jesuit colleges: and these children were kindly received by the masters, treated with great indulgence, and premiums were freely bestowed upon them even in preference to the Roman Catholic children. The Jesuits thus acquired an immense influence, especially over the female part of the population, who were proud of their children’s learning; while these imperceptibly acquired a tinge of their masters’ doctrines and modes of thinking, although in countries where the majority were Protestants, they were expressly forbidden openly to propound them. Yet, notwithstanding all these advantages, the Jesuits could not have hoped for such prodigious success had it not been for the support they received from divers sovereigns of the country. Perhaps we should be more correct in saying, that these sovereigns called in the Jesuits to re-establish the ancient religion.

At the commencement of the Reformation, even those German princes who had not unreservedly embraced the new doctrines were exceedingly glad to shake off the yoke of the Romish See; and, without separating themselves from its communion, they made many concessions to their subjects, which amounted in many places to toleration. Subsequently, however, the Popes made them understand that by these concessions their sovereign authority was greatly diminished, and that temporal princes and the head of the Church were bound by a common interest to support each other. The princes were easily persuaded to a policy which flattered their inclination to despotism, and from that moment they not only resisted every new demand for reform, but, to the utmost of their power, withdrew the concessions they had formerly made. The first who entered upon this reactionary path was Albert V. of Bavaria. Being in continual want of money to pay his enormous debts, the estates would grant him no supplies without obtaining in exchange some concessions, mostly of a religious kind. In this state of things, Pius IV., through the medium of the Jesuits, and especially of Canisius, persuaded him that any new concessions would diminish the obedience of his subjects; and, in order to render him less dependent on the estates, the Pope abandoned to him the tenth of the property of his clergy.[193] The duke perceiving what advantage he might derive from a closer alliance with the Court of Rome, decided at once to resist any further demand, and firmly declared his intentions at the diet of 1563. He found the prelates well disposed to second him; “and, whether it was that the doctrines of a reviving Catholicism, and the activity of the Jesuits, who insinuated themselves everywhere, had gained influence in the cities, or that other considerations prevailed, the cities did not insist as formerly upon religious concessions.”[194] The nobles only kept up an opposition; but the duke, catching the opportunity of a sort of conspiracy which he had discovered, deprived them of their right to seats in the diet, and so became the almost absolute and uncontrolled master of his people’s franchises. Then commenced the reaction. Encouraged by the Jesuits, who had now acquired an unlimited influence over him, Albert resolved not to leave a vestige of those new doctrines which for the last forty years had been spreading so fast in his kingdom. All the professors, all his household, all the civil officers—in a word, all the public functionaries—were compelled to subscribe the _Professio Fidei_ of the Council of Trent, and on their refusal, were immediately dismissed. To obtain a recantation from the common people, he sent through all his provinces swarms of Jesuits, accompanied by bands of troopers, whose bayonets came to the aid of the preachers, when their eloquence was unsuccessful in converting the heretics. The mildest treatment the obstinate Protestants could expect, was to be expelled from the duke’s estates without delay. Prohibited books were sought for in the libraries, and burned in large numbers; those of a rigidly Catholic character, on the contrary, were highly favoured. Relics were again held in great veneration; and, in short, throughout the whole country were revived all the ancient practices, all the absurd superstitions, of the Popish religion. “Above all,” says Ranke, “the Jesuit institutions were promoted; for by their agency it was, that the youth of Bavaria were to be educated in a spirit of strict orthodoxy.”[195]

Duke Albert was now spoken of as the most bigoted Roman Catholic in Germany, and became the protector of all those petty sovereigns who wished to tread in his footsteps.

In Austria, although the reaction had long begun, coercive measures against the Protestants were not resorted to till somewhat later. As we have already said, Ferdinand invited the Jesuits to Vienna, and delivered up to them the university as early as the year 1551. Soon after, he established another Jesuit college at Prague, to which he sent his own pages, and to which resorted all the nobility belonging to the Roman communion. Colleges, and schools of less consequence, were established throughout all the Austrian dominions, and great efforts were made to win back the Protestants to the Romish faith. Yet, under the prudent and conciliating Ferdinand I., and during the reign of the wise Maximilian, the Jesuits could not obtain any severe persecuting measure against the followers of the Reformed religion, but were more successful with Rodolph II. Father Maggio, the Provincial of the Jesuits, was held by the emperor in great estimation, and consulted in every matter of importance. He was continually pressing the monarch to come to the resolution of completely extirpating heresy from his dominions. The Pope’s legate and the Spanish ambassador backed him in his intolerant demand. This bigoted prince at last, under the pretence of a popular tumult, which took place on the occasion of the procession of the Corpus Domini in 1578, banished from his estates Opitz, a Protestant preacher, and all his assistants; and this measure was the signal for a general persecution of the Lutherans. The greatest atrocity and the utmost rigour were displayed in destroying every trace of Protestantism.

In the first place, it was determined to extirpate Protestantism from the imperial cities. The towns east of the Ens, which had separated from the estates of the knights and nobles twenty years before, could offer no resistance; the Reformed clergy were removed, and their places filled by Catholic priests; private persons were subjected to a close examination. A formula, according to which the suspected were interrogated, has come into our possession. ‘Dost thou believe,’ inquires one of its articles, ‘that everything is true which the Church of Rome has laid down as the rule of life and doctrine?’ ‘Dost thou believe,’ adds another, ‘that the Pope is the head of the one Apostolic Church?’ No doubt was to be endured. The Protestants were to be expelled from all offices of state; none were admitted to the class of burghers who did not declare themselves Catholics. In the universities, that of Vienna not excepted, all who applied for a doctor’s degree were first required to subscribe the _Professio Fidei_. A new regulation for schools was promulgated, which prescribed Catholic formularies, fasts, worship, according to the Catholic ritual, and the exclusive use of the Catechism of Canisius. In Vienna, all Protestant books were taken away from the booksellers’ shops, and were carried in heaps to the Episcopal court. Search was made at the customhouses along the river; all packages were examined, and books or pictures not considered purely Catholic were confiscated.[196]

All throughout Germany the same proceedings were resorted to, and everywhere we find the Jesuits foremost in the reaction. There was no bishop, no prince, who went to visit a province upon religious concerns, who did not bring with him a troop of Jesuits, who, on his departure, were often left there with almost unlimited powers.

POLAND.

If from Germany we pass to Poland, there also we meet the ominous influence of the disciples of Loyola. “The Protestant cause,” says Count Krasinski, in the fourth of his admirable _Lectures on Slavonia_, “was endangered by the lamentable partiality which Stephen Batory had shewn to the Jesuits; and the Romanist reaction, beginning under his reign, had been chiefly promoted by the schools, which that order was everywhere establishing.” Stephen, however, either too prudent to attack openly the religion then professed, in Lithuania at least, by a great majority of his subjects, or anxious to maintain, to a certain extent, religious liberty, had recourse to no extraordinary measures for the furtherance of this reaction, and contented himself with ordering that in future none but strict Roman Catholics should be appointed to bishoprics. But under the bigoted Sigismond—under that king, who, as the same learned Count says, “gloried in the appellation of the king of the Jesuits, which was given him by their antagonists, and who indeed became a mere tool in the hands of the disciples of Loyola”—the reaction made fearful and continued progress. Although Sigismond could attempt nothing by main force against the liberties of his Protestant subjects, he had it in his power to give, and he at last effectually gave, a mortal blow to the Reformed religion. The chief prerogative of the Polish kings—we should perhaps say, the only real power possessed by these nominal sovereigns—was the right of conferring all dignities and official appointments. Twenty thousand offices were at their disposal; and Sigismond declared that none but strict Roman Catholics should be named to them. The favour of the Jesuits was an essential condition of obtaining a situation under the Government; and “the Starost Ludwig von Montager became Waivode of Pomerellia, because he presented his house in Thorn to the Society of Jesus.”[197] Many of the nobles who had professed the doctrines of the Reformation, were induced to recant, depending exclusively as they did on the king’s favour for the maintenance of their rank, and having no hope for preferment while out of the pale of the Romish Church. The influence of these examples, seconded by the rigorous measures subsequently taken against the Lutherans, and, above all, by the diabolical cunning and artifice of the Jesuits, in a short time brought back the great majority of the Polish nation under the yoke of the Church of Rome.

SWEDEN.

In Sweden, the efforts of the Jesuits against Protestantism, although no less active and vigorous, were less successful. John III., son of the heroic Gustavus Vasa, on ascending the throne, published a ritual, in which, to the great amazement and dismay of the Protestants, were to be found not only ceremonies, but even doctrines of the Church of Rome.[198] The Pope, apprised of this prince’s good disposition towards his Church, despatched to Stockholm in all haste and secrecy, as his legate, the famous Possevin, one of the cleverest and least scrupulous among the Jesuits. To obviate the difficulty of obtaining admission into the country and court of Sweden as Pope’s legate, Possevin, in passing through Prague, induced the widow of the emperor Maximilian to send him to Stockholm as her extraordinary ambassador. He assumed, in consequence, another name, a splendid costume, and girded himself with a sword, but, “to do penance in advance for these transient honours, he went the greatest part of the way on foot.”[199] Acting publicly as the envoy of the empress, he found means secretly to inform the king of his real name and mission, and had several conferences with him. The result was, that John was persuaded to make the _Professio Fidei_, according to the formula of the Council of Trent, promising at the same time to take measures, and to use all his endeavours, to induce the nation to follow in the same path, provided the Pope would second him by making certain concessions, the most essential of which were, that the sacramental cup should be administered to the laity, and mass performed in the language of the country. Possevin said that the Pope should be apprised of his majesty’s will, and asked him whether he would submit to his decision in this matter. John having answered in the affirmative, was absolved of his sins, and received the sacrament according to the Roman Catholic ritual.[200]

The Jesuit departed in high glee at his success, far surpassing his most sanguine hopes. He hastened to Rome, and assuming a privilege in use among ambassadors, he boasted of having achieved more than he had really done, assuring Gregory XIII. that Sweden and its king were at his Holiness’s mercy. He then laid before the Pope the conditions on which John had insisted, but Gregory, either too intolerant to make any concession, or considering it unnecessary to grant honourable terms to an enemy who threw himself at his feet, refused to listen to such proposals, and sent back the Jesuit to Stockholm, with letters to the king, in which he required the monarch to declare himself a Catholic without restriction.

This imperious conduct saved Sweden from falling back under the Popish rule. John, indignant at being held in so light account—indignant at the assurance of Possevin, who unceremoniously entered Stockholm and the court in the garb of his order as the Pope’s legate, and accompanied by other Jesuits, as if Sweden had already become a Roman Catholic country—moved by the remonstrances of the Protestant princes and divines, who, in the interval of Possevin’s departure and return, had entreated him to remain in their communion—dismissed the Pope’s ambassador, and returned to the Reformed worship.

The attempts of the Jesuits to convert Sweden to the Roman faith were revived with new vigour under John’s successor, Sigismond, the Polish king. Fortunately, Charles of Sandermania, the king’s uncle, headed the nation in its resistance to Sigismond’s Popish propensities; and although the Jesuits had the sad glory of plunging Poland and Sweden into a bloody war, the last-mentioned country remained Protestant.

SWITZERLAND AND PIEDMONT.

The Jesuits experienced some difficulty in entering Switzerland, and in some parts of it they could not get footing; but towards the year 1574, they established themselves in Friburg and Lucerne. They succeeded in keeping back these two towns from the Alliance of Berne, and scattered the flames of that religious discord between these cantons which was not extinguished even by the blood that was shed at the instigation of the Jesuits in 1845-47. The famous Canisius was the principal promoter and founder of the College of Friburg, the resort, till lately, of a great number of young men of the highest families, sent thither for education from divers parts of Europe.

The cruelties exercised by Possevin against the inhabitants of the Alps were most barbarous and revolting. Many Christians, driven out of other countries by Popish persecution, had sought a refuge in these almost inaccessible mountains, where the Waldenses still preserved the religion of Christ in its primitive purity. They had hoped, in the simplicity of their hearts, that there, far from the scene of conflict, they would be permitted to worship God according to their consciences. They were not dangerous persons—they were no chiefs of sects eager to make proselytes—they were single-hearted people, seeking to please God by living a pure and Christian life. It might have been expected that their poverty, their innocence, their peaceful conduct, would have sheltered them from any persecution; and, in fact, for a time they lived unmolested. Unhappily for them, the Jesuits were watching them, and, urged on by that persecuting spirit which led them to seek for victims everywhere, were resolved to trouble them in their retreat, and, if possible, to destroy them. Lainez, in 1560, despatched Possevin to Nice, to Emmanuel Philebert, Duke of Savoy, to excite him to persecute those heretic mountaineers. The Jesuit represented to the Duke that a Catholic prince ought not, even though his own personal interest required it, to tolerate that the heresy should establish itself in his dominions, and that the mountains of Piedmont and the Alps, in particular, served for a retreat to the sectaries of Luther and Calvin.[201] Possevin succeeded in bringing the duke into his abominable views. Ferrier, the governor of Pignerol, commenced a chase against these inoffensive people, who were hunted from one retreat to another, and when taken, were mercilessly and inhumanly consigned to the flames. Driven to despair they took up arms, resolved hereafter to sell their lives at the dearest price. A body of troops was sent against them. The General, the Sieur de la Trinité, placed them at the disposal of Possevin, and the Pope’s nuncio conferred upon him the powers with which he pretended to be invested.[202] The Jesuit, forgetful of his sacerdotal calling, repressing every feeling of humanity, put himself at the head of a chosen body of troops, and hunted down these poor Christians as if they were wild beasts, putting every one who fell into his hands to the sword. Then, when he was tired of the work of slaughter, to procure for himself a sort of triumph, he brought to Vercelli, in solemn procession, thirty-four of those unfortunates, who, not having faith or strength enough to prefer martyrdom to apostasy, publicly abjured their religion in the presence of the duke and the Jesuit.[203] From that day till very lately, the house of Savoy has more or less persecuted the Waldenses.

Our Protestant readers, we presume, have by this time learned what malignant and unrelenting enemies of their religion the Jesuits have always been. They must have learned that all the north of Europe, and France itself, perhaps, would have become Protestant countries, had it not been for the demoniacal arts and ill-employed activity of the disciples of Loyola. They must, further, be aware that the Jesuits did not obtain those results by honest means only, by force of argument, or by active and earnest exertions, which would have at least entitled them to the approbation and esteem of all Roman Catholics, but they had recourse to perjury, to murder, to persecution, to cruelties of every kind—to means, in short, involving the perversion of every principle of morality, for which they at last came to be abhorred by every honest person, even of their own persuasion. Lastly, it clearly appears, from what we have related, that, while pretending to fight for the Roman See, the Jesuits, in reality, fought for their own aggrandisement; that they recognise no religion, but their interest; worship no God, but their order. We must, finally, remind our readers that we have omitted numberless other charges which are generally brought against them, which we consider well founded, but which we cannot satisfactorily prove. All that we have advanced we have proved, according to our promise, by documents of unquestionable authenticity, and we shall continue to observe this rule to the conclusion of our history.