The Jesuits

The first edition of the following pages was prepared as a Lecture for the Islington Protestant Institute.  The delivery of that Lecture has led to a more careful study of the subject, so that in this second edition there is a considerable quantity of additional information, which I trust may be found important.

One gentleman has done me the honour of noticing the first edition, and publishing a pamphlet in order to show that the constitution quoted on page 32 should be rendered as the reader will find it there.  It is a matter of great regret to me that he should have thought it right to say of the remainder of the lecture, that “statements which few surely can believe, will, he trusts, produce in the minds of readers an effect the very reverse of that intended.”  If he had pointed out any inaccuracy, I should have been only too happy to correct it; and any proof of error on my part would have been much more satisfactory to his readers than a general and unsupported insinuation.  In the present edition he will find, I believe, a clear reference to every important extract; and abundant opportunity is afforded him, if possible, to disprove my statements.

E. H.

Ramsgate, Feb. 12, 1852.

Of all the various human combinations that have ever risen to adorn or to disgrace humanity, the Society of the Jesuits is perhaps the most remarkable.  The great men of the world have constructed mighty schemes for its government, and the utmost powers of the human mind have again and again been called out in order to combine men for the attainment of some given end; but of all these varied schemes, I believe it may be safely affirmed that there never yet has been known one so admirably suited to its end, so beautifully adjusted in its parts, so wonderfully adapted to the real condition of society, or possessing so extraordinary a capability of applying its movements, so as to meet the ways and wishes of all those countless characters upon whom its action is employed.  The question whether such an institution is a curse or a blessing to the human race must, of course, depend on two things, viz., the object to which its efforts are directed, and the principles by which they are controlled.  If that object be the honour of the Lord Jesus Christ, and if those principles be in harmony with the Word of God, then, clearly, so varied and effective an instrumentality must act most powerfully for the benefit of man; but if, on the other hand, its object be to pervert the truth and impede its progress,—if, again, the principles of its action be flatly opposed, not merely to the Word of God, but also to the most elementary maxims of even natural morality,—then it is equally clear that the perfection of the instrument merely adds to its fatal power, and just in proportion to the completeness of the machinery will be the deadliness of the blight which it will produce upon society.

Now the avowed object of the Order of Jesuits is the support of the See of Rome.  In the original plan submitted by Loyola to Pope Paul III. it was stated, “The Society of Jesus shall constitute a trained host, ready at all times to fight for God’s vicegerent, the holy Roman Father, and for the Roman Catholic Church, in which alone is salvation.”  To this declaration of their original designs, the Society has to this day avowedly adhered; and although their countless intrigues against the other Orders have shown very clearly that, in professing to serve the Pope, they have had an ulterior end, viz., the aggrandizement and exaltation of their own Order, yet we must always regard this as their professed design, and form our estimate of the object of the Society by our estimate of the value of the Popedom.  There are, alas, those who, trying it by this test, would pronounce its object good; but, thanks be to God! there is, I verily believe, a vast, and vastly increasing, multitude who have been driven by recent events to bring Popery to the test of Scripture, and who have risen from the study with the deep and indelible conviction that, instead of being our Lord’s vicegerent, the Pope of Rome is the usurper of his sovereignty; and that, therefore, if this be the object of Jesuitism, Jesuitism must be bad; and if this be the end of its action, the better its machinery the worse its effects upon the world.

The full principles of the Society it is extremely difficult to discover or to describe, inasmuch as there appears to be a very wide difference between the system as exhibited in its public documents and as carried out in the practice of its members.  There are countless facts in the history of the order which prove conclusively that there is one code for the world to look at, and another for the world to feel; a uniform for inspection days, and a plain dress for common life.  The constitutions and other acknowledged documents are open to the world, but if we want to know how the Jesuit will act when he has secretly wormed his way into the confidence of our family, or to discover any real moral principle by which the conduct of such an one will be guided, I believe that we shall be utterly at a loss.  He has his own secret instructions from his superiors, and what they are will probably be never known out of the Order, till the great day shall come when the secrets of all hearts shall be made known.

We must be content, therefore, with only superficial information upon the subject; but there is enough in the undoubted avowals of the Society to amaze the conscience of any honest mind.  It is true that we are able to examine merely its authorized documents as prepared to meet the world’s eye, and that when we have been through them all we shall know but a fragment of the system; but at the same time we shall learn enough to discover that, in order to the attainment of its object, the Society is prepared to set aside all the dictates either of conscience or of Scripture; and we shall also obtain ample evidence to convict the Church of Rome of the awful guilt of abandoning honesty in order to secure power, and of sacrificing moral virtue in order to attain supreme dominion.

The Members of the Society are arranged in the following classes:—[10]

The Professed, who, in fact, constitute the real body of the Order.  The property of the Society is vested in them, and they only have a right to attend a general congregation, or to vote at the election of a General.  They are all priests, and none are admitted till the age of twenty-five.  They are distinguished from the other classes by having taken four instead of three vows, the rest having vowed three things, viz., obedience, poverty, and chastity, but the professed having added a fourth promise, viz., absolute obedience to the Pope, as the Vicar of Christ.

Spiritual Coadjutors, whose office is to assist the professed in spiritual things; such as preaching, hearing confessions, superintending Colleges, &c.  These, likewise, must all be priests.

Secular Coadjutors.  These are all laymen, and their office is to fill such secular offices as may be required, in order to promote the objects of the Society.  They act as servants and inferior officers in the Colleges and other houses; but they are employed, when qualified, for higher and more important duties. [11a]  They are expected also to influence their neighbours by conversation and other means. [11b]  They are drawn from all ranks, some being unable to read, and others educated men. [11c]  It is clear that this class must supply the Society with one of the most effective of its agencies.  The lay coadjutor may act in any capacity, as a merchant, statesman, mechanic, or anything else which his Superior may deem expedient, and may thus secure a powerful influence without any person having the least idea that a Jesuit is in his neighbourhood.

Approved scholars, or those youths who have been selected as likely to prove suitable for the future purposes of the Society, and are being trained in Jesuit Colleges.  Although their education is not yet complete, these scholars have been required to take the three vows, and moreover to add the promise that they will be ready, when required, to devote themselves to the service of the Society.

Those whose future rank is not yet decided, but who are admitted upon the condition that they shall be employed in whatever way the Society shall deem most suited to their talents.

To this list Mr. Duller adds another class, which he terms affiliated members, or adjuncts, which he states includes even ladies. [12a]  From his account they appear to be bound to the Order by a compact that on their part they will act as spies and agents in all their intercourse with those amongst whom they dwell, while the Society undertakes in return to guarantee to them a share in all those spiritual privileges which, as it vainly pretends, it is the Jesuits’ prerogative to bestow. [12b]  The effect of these affiliated members and lay coadjutors is, of course, enormous.  They are like the thin fibres to the root, through whose power the whole plant is nourished.  They impart to the Order an ever-penetrating power.  They enable it to act without awakening the least suspicion of its presence, to worm its way into the very heart of Protestantism, and to secure the unsuspecting confidence of those whom they desire to betray and ruin.

These different classes are all subject to the absolute and uncontrolled authority of the General.  This important officer is elected for life by a general assembly of the professed members.  He resides at Rome, and is assisted by a small council, consisting of a certain number of assistants, and elected representatives from the different provinces.  The whole world is divided into districts, over each of which one assistant is appointed to preside; these districts are again subdivided into “Provinces,” with a Provincial at the head of each, appointed by the General for a given time, and these provinces contain their houses for the professed, with a Provost at the head of each, their novice-houses, colleges, seminaries, and, in Protestant-lands, mission-houses, where their agents live unnoticed as secular clergy.  There is therefore, throughout, the most complete system of graduated authority.  Every Jesuit has over him a certain officer, to whose authority he is absolutely subject; and the connexion is so perfect, that the command of the General strikes without fail, like an electric shock, to the most distant individual in the Order.  The Provincial or the Provost is just as much under authority as the priest or the novice; and there is the same law of unquestioning submission in all the ranks and complex ramifications of the Society; the result of which is, that the General has at his command a devoted and well-compacted army, quartered discreetly in every nation of the known world, and ready at any moment to execute his designs.  The same arrangements are equally effective in supplying the General with information.  The Provincials and other officers are all required to send full reports of their several districts to head-quarters.  The characters, acquirements, dispositions, successes, failures, and, in certain cases, even the confessions of the members are registered and reported.  Nothing of importance can occur in the most distant outpost, without the report of it being forwarded to Rome; and if it tends to throw light on the qualifications of any member of the Order, it is recorded against his name, so as to supply the General with a bird’s-eye view of the leading points in the character of every individual under his command.

With such an organization at his command, it is clear that the General can rarely be at a loss for agency.  Whatever be the required service, it is an easy thing to select the best adapted instrument, and to despatch him without delay.

But to describe their mode of action is almost impossible, for it varies with every circumstance, and is different in every locality.

When they are permitted to locate themselves in any country, their two chief means for the attainment of their object appear to be, education and the confessional.  They will then go boldly forth, generally two and two, in the long black cloak, with which I grieve to say our English eye is becoming too familiar.  They will publicly found their seminaries and colleges, supplying them with first-rate professors, so securing to themselves the early education of the great majority of the rising generation.  It is stated, that in France the colleges and educational establishments have been all turned over to them by the Government of Louis Napoleon. [15]

The second, and most influential avowed method of securing influence has always been the confessional.  For this, the Jesuit priest is carefully instructed at the time of his profession, and by it he wields, of course, an almost unbounded power.  The great aim is to obtain the office of confessor to kings, statesmen, and men of influence; and it is stated, that before their suppression, they had thus secured the ear and conscience of almost every Roman Catholic king in Europe.  It is very fearful to contemplate the course of conduct by which this influence has been attained.  The confessional is bad enough at all times; but what must be its effect, when the priest is instructed, instead of checking sin, to adapt his treatment to the inclinations and vices of his penitent?  But this has always been the charge urged against the Jesuits.  Pascal charges them most powerfully with lowering down the maxims of the Gospel, so as to accommodate them to the maxims of the world.  He represents the Jesuit priest as saying, “We are forced to allow some liberty, because men are at present so corrupted, that, being unable to make men come to us, we are obliged to go to them.  It is to hold them fast, that our casuits have taken into consideration the vices to which a person is most exposed in all stations, so as to establish mild maxims, without affecting truth, with which it would be difficult not to be content.”

The charge of Pascal has been completely verified, by the discovery of the “Secreta Monita,” or private manual of the Jesuit Confessor.  Of course the authenticity of this remarkable book has been denied; for the Jesuit, as we shall soon learn, can deny anything; but yet it has been found in so many independent Jesuit institutions, that it is almost impossible to doubt the evidence of its authenticity.  In these secret instructions may be found such passages as the following:—“Princes and distinguished persons must by all means be so managed, that they (the Jesuits) may gain their ear, which will easily secure their hearts . . .  Since ecclesiastics secure the greatest favour, by winking at the vices of the great, as in the case of incestuous marriages, &c., such persons must be led to hope, that through their aid, a dispensation may be obtained from the Pope, which he will no doubt readily grant,” &c.  Again, “Their confessors must allow greater latitude than those of other orders, in order that their penitents, being allured by such freedom, may relinquish others, and entirely depend on their direction and advice.” [17]

By such awful practices have they sought to secure the ear of the great in the confessional; nor can we wonder if a power so gained is used in many cases for the foulest purposes.  Duller asserts that the confessions of sovereign princes are at all times communicated to the General, and something nearly approaching to this is directed in the ordinances of the Society, where it is said that “the confessors of princes should consult with their Superiors in doubtful cases,” [18a] a regulation which, of course, enables them to lay anything they please before the General.  The use made of the information, when obtained, may be gathered from the “Secreta Monita,” where, amongst other similar passages, it is said, “The Society will contribute much to its own advantage by fomenting and heightening (but with caution and secresy) the animosities that arise amongst princes and great men, in order that they may weaken each other.” [18b]  Such are the maxims of this professedly Christian institution, which claims to be pre-eminently devoted to the service of God, and even calls itself the “Society of Jesus.”  Is it possible to imagine a more flagrant insult to that holy name by which we live?

But the Jesuit does not depend on any open agency alone: and he is the most dangerous when the long cloak is laid aside, and there is nothing apparent to distinguish him from ordinary men.  Then it is that he can secretly worm his way into the confidence of a wholly unsuspecting public.  It was stated by Mr. Sheil, in the House of Commons, that there were swarms of Jesuits in England.  But who has seen them? and who has been conscious of their presence?  It is asserted by different historians, that they even fought in Cromwell’s army; and, in order to gain their object, assumed the garb of rigid Puritans. [19a]  Their principles render any such deception probable, as will be seen when we proceed to investigate their morality.  It will then appear, that there is nothing in their conscientious scruples to prevent their assuming any character, or personating any principles.  Their object is to insinuate themselves amongst their opponents, like the fluid soaking into the flax, and then, when the time is come, to blow up the whole, and split into a thousand shreds the strong and well-compacted fibres.  In the pursuit of such ends they appear to be bound by no oaths, and to be regardless of all legislation but their own.  They can fight on both sides in the same engagement; some in the army of the Cavaliers, and some under Cromwell amongst the Roundheads.  They may sign the Articles, though they do not believe them; and even bear the sacred office of the ministry, although their only object is to betray the Church.  One man may empty the parish church by disgusting the people with Romish ceremonial; while his brother breaks up the Dissenting congregation by the artful revival of some forgotten grudge.  They can mix with the Anti-State-Church League in a crusade against establishments, and then give their right hand to the exclusive Churchman, and join with him in railing against Dissent.  They can stir up the Voluntaries, by exciting their horror against the iniquity of State patronage, and the evil of endowments, while at the same moment they are sneaking down to Downing-street, and there whispering into the ear of the Minister, that it is essential to Ireland’s prosperity that an endowment be voted for Maynooth.  In short, wherever there is truth to be assailed or friends to be separated—wherever there is the slightest hope of strengthening the Company, by weakening existing forces or breaking up existing ties—wherever there is a prospect of turning aside an honest man by the insinuating suggestions of a subtle friend,—there is the sphere for the unhallowed agency of Loyola’s disciples. [20]

Thus the steps of the Company have always been traceable by the disunion, the intrigues, the plots and counterplots, the factions, and separations which have invariably sprung up under their influence.  I am anxious to state nothing that I cannot prove; and, therefore, having made this assertion, I will conclude this portion of the subject by calling one witness, whose testimony will be admitted, at all events, by Romanists.  It shall be none other than the infallible head of the infallible Church—none other than the Pope himself.  Pope Clement XIV. thought little better of the Jesuits than we do; and on July 21, 1773, he issued a Bull, of which the following passages are extracts:—

“We have seen with the grief of our heart that neither these remedies, nor an infinity of others since employed, have produced their due effects, or silenced the accusations and complaints against the said Society.  Our predecessors, Urban VII., Clement IX., &c., &c., employed, without effect, all their efforts to the same purpose.  In vain did they endeavour, by salutary constitutions, to restore peace to the Church, as well with respect to secular affairs, with which the Company ought not to have interfered, as with regard to the Missions, which gave rise to great disputes and oppositions, on the part of the Company, with the ordinaries, with other religious Orders, about the holy places and communities of all sorts in Europe, Africa, and America, to the great loss of souls, and great scandal of the people; as, likewise, concerning the meaning and practice of certain idolatrous ceremonies, adopted in certain places in contempt of those justly approved by the Catholic Church; and further, concerning the use and exposition of certain maxims which the Holy See has with reason proscribed, as scandalous and manifestly contrary to good morals; and, lastly, concerning other matters of great importance and prime necessity towards preserving the integrity and purity of the doctrines of the Gospel, from which maxims have resulted very great inconveniences and great detriment, both in our days and in past ages, such as the revolts and intestine troubles in some of the cathedral States, persecutions against the Church, &c. . . .

“After so many storms, troubles, divisions, every good man looked forward with impatience to the happy day which was to restore peace and tranquillity.  But under the reign of Clement XIII., the times became more difficult and tempestuous, complaints and quarrels were multiplied on every side, in some places dangerous seditions arose, tumults, discord, dissensions, scandals, which, weakening or entirely breaking the bands of Christian charity, excited the faithful to all the rage of party hatreds and enmities.  Desolation and danger grew to such a height, that the very sovereigns whose piety and liberality towards the Company were so well known as to be looked on as hereditary in their families,—we mean our dearly-beloved sons in Christ, the Kings of France, Spain, Portugal, and Sicily,—found themselves reduced to the necessity of expelling and driving from their states, kingdoms, and provinces these very companions of Jesus, persuaded that there remained no other remedy to so great evils, and that this step was necessary in order to prevent the Christians from rising one against another, and from massacring each other in the very bosom of our common mother, the Holy Church.

“Actuated by so many and important considerations, . . . after a mature deliberation, we do, out of our certain knowledge, and the fulness of our apostolic power, suppress and abolish the said Company.  We deprive it of all activity whatever, of its houses, schools, colleges, hospitals, lands, and, in short, every other place belonging to the said Company in any manner whatever, in whatsoever kingdom or province they may be situated.  We abrogate and annul its statutes, rules, customs, decrees, and constitutions, even though confirmed by oath and approved by the Holy See, or otherwise; we declare all and every kind of authority, the General, the Provincial, the Visitor, and other superiors of the said Society, to be annulled and abolished for ever, of whatsoever nature the said authority may be, as well in things spiritual as temporal,” &c.

Such being the organization and plan of action of this mysterious Society, the next subject for inquiry is, the connecting principle of its vast machinery.  This may be briefly stated to be, unhesitating and blind obedience to the authority of the General or his subordinates.  To impregnate the mind with this one principle of obedience, appears to be the leading object of Jesuit education.  One of the learned Jesuits with whom the Rev. H. Seymour conversed at Rome, stated that their “great and cardinal principle was, that obedience was the greatest Christian duty, and humility the highest Christian virtue, and that this principle was the grand element of their power.”  He added, moreover, that it was “so deeply fixed and rooted, that it were as hard to uproot it as to uproot the belief of a God, or of religion.” [24]  Accordingly, when a novice is a candidate for admission, he has to undergo six methods of probation, some of which can have no other purpose than effectually to try the completeness of his surrender.  He must first pass through the spiritual exercises to be described hereafter; he must next spend a month in a hospital, or amongst any other sick to whom he may be appointed.  The third trial is, that he should set out destitute of money, for a whole month, to beg his bread from door to door.  The fourth, that on his return to the house he should there execute the most menial and abject offices.  The fifth, that he should employ himself for a time in the instruction of the young or ignorant.  And the sixth, that, if thus approved, he should act for a time as preacher or confessor. [25]  Now, it is obvious that of these trials the third and fourth can have no other object than to break down all respect for private will and judgment, and to test the extent to which the unfortunate victim will submit his soul to the will of his wily captors.  There is no moral or religious end to be thus accomplished; the common footboy would clean shoes better than the accomplished historian or philosopher; and it is quite impossible to imagine any other motive for imposing such tasks upon the novices, (many of whom are accomplished gentlemen, and some, I fear, once clergymen from our own Church and universities,) than the desire utterly to crush them at the outset of their career, to eradicate all individuality of will and judgment, and to bring them out from the preparatory process prepared to act out the will of their Superior, though his requirements may be revolting to their taste, repugnant to their judgment, and in direct violation to their conscientious conviction of right and wrong.

Thus, e.g., when the novice has returned from his month of mendicancy, to discharge the menial offices of the establishment, there is provision made in the printed documents of the Order, that the nauseous dose shall take full effect upon the constitution; for as it would be very natural that, when the cook should find some man of rank and learning appointed to his kitchen as the scullion, he should show towards him some small measure of respectful courtesy, the rule of the Examen has expressly directed to the contrary.  “It were better,” it says, “that the cook should avoid a softened style of request towards the novice; let him rather, with modesty, command him to do this or that.  For if he speaks as a request, it is then a man addressing a man; thus it will be a cook—a layman, asking a priest to wash an earthen pot, or to do anything of this kind, which would seem neither decent nor proper.  Whereas if he uses the style of command,—‘Do this,’—‘Do that,’—then it is at once understood that he speaks as in the name and person of Christ: it is not the voice of the cook that is heard, nor even that of the Superior, but of the Lord.” [26]

When a man has once submitted to such a process, there is no difficulty in perceiving that he must come out from it an abject slave.  Once convinced that he is to regard the order of the cook as the voice of the Lord, he is obviously prepared to receive the directions of the General as the expressions of the same Divine and holy will.  Thus Loyola, in his letter on Obedience, addressed to the Portuguese houses, in the year 1553, and only three years before his death, says, “I would that every true and genuine son of the Society should be known by this very mark, that he looks not to the person to whom he yields obedience, but that he sees in him the Lord Christ, for whose sake that obedience is rendered.”  A moment’s glance at such a passage shows clearly that the obedience due to a perfect, spotless, and unchangeable Redeemer, is transferred, without qualification, to an imperfect, short-sighted, and fallible Superior.  The Superior “sits in the temple and shows himself as God.”  Accordingly, in the same letter he adds, “Obedience is to be rendered to the Superior, not on account of his wisdom, goodness, or any other such-like qualities with which he may be endowed, but solely because he is in God’s place, and wields the authority of Him who says, ‘They that hear you, &c.’” [27]

Now it is plain that the obvious deduction from such a principle is, that if all moral qualities are placed out of the question, and if the Superior, because he is Superior, is to be regarded by the Jesuit as God, then clearly all must be done that is required by that Superior, whether right or wrong, scriptural or unscriptural, sanctioned or condemned by the conscience of the individual.  But it is also very possible that cases may arise in which, in matters of opinion, the subordinate may differ from the decision of his Superior, and in matters of practice may feel a conscientious scruple in the execution of his designs.  It is plain, moreover, that, if the Superior holds the place of God, he has an absolute right to the immediate surrender both of conviction and of conscience.  There is a curious passage in the latter part of the “Spiritual Exercises,” which proves the extent to which the Jesuit is required to surrender his opinion, or it should be rather stated, to belie it.  This book was written by Loyola, solemnly sanctioned, in a letter apostolic, after careful examination, by Pope Paul III., and a translation of it published in the year 1847, with notes by the present General, Father Rothaan, and a commendatory preface by no other pen than that of “Nicholas Wiseman, D.D., Bishop of Melipotamus;” so that it has every sanction, ancient and modern, which Rome can give it.  In it we find eighteen “rules to be observed, in order that we may think with the orthodox Church,” the thirteenth of which is as follows, and especial attention is directed to it because it shows, not merely the slavery to which the Jesuit is reduced, but the recklessness as to truth, of which he is compelled to become guilty: “That we may be altogether of the same mind, and in conformity with the Church herself, if she shall have defined anything to be black, which to our eyes appears to be white, we ought in like manner to pronounce it to be black.” [29]  To think it black is clearly impossible, but to pronounce it black is here declared a duty.

Suppose the question were one of practice, and the Superior were to require some service on the part of a subordinate Jesuit, of which that subordinate, if he dared to think, might be clearly convinced that it was morally and scripturally wrong.  It is true that, according to the strict letter of the Constitutions, such thought is impossible, because the principle of obedience is there extended not merely to the action, but to the judgment; so that a true and thorough-going Jesuit is prepared to vow that his very thoughts shall be in harmony with those of his Superior.  But though conscience may be seared, it is very hard to silence it; and though the sophistry of cunning schoolmen may perplex truth with intricate questions of subtle casuistry, there is a clear broad line of demarcation between sin and virtue, between right and wrong, and there is a clear knowledge of that broad distinction so immoveably fixed amidst the ruins of our fallen nature, that it is almost impossible to imagine even a Jesuit in any real doubt, when in the secrets of his own chamber he calmly reflects upon the question, Is a lie right, or a murder blameless?  But suppose that the Superior commands him either to lie or murder, what then?  Conscience says, “It is sin.”  The law of God says, “It is sin.”  The Superior says, “It must be done.”  Which then is to be obeyed?  Mr. Seymour put the question to his Jesuit friend at Rome.  The man did not hesitate to maintain that the Superior must be obeyed, and the conscience sacrificed, and added, that “he should consider that the more the matter commanded was opposed to his private judgment, revolting to his personal feelings, or wounding to his individual conscience, the more in proportion would be the meritoriousness of obedience under such trying circumstances.” [30]  But this, it may be urged, was the private opinion of an individual Jesuit, and therefore not justly chargeable upon the great body of the Society.  The distinction is clearly one of great importance, for we know in our own times how men may be members of a Church, and yet downright traitors to its principles; and also how with our whole soul we utterly repudiate those who can solemnly read the Thirty-nine Articles in the desk, and then preach the direct opposite from the pulpit.  It would not be fair, therefore, to attach to the Order the opinions of the individual, unless these can be proved to be fully borne out and sanctioned by the fixed and authoritative documents of the Society.  Nothing, however, can be clearer, than that the sentiments then expressed, were those not of the man, but of the Order; for in the Constitutions [31] it is expressly directed that “those who live under obedience should permit themselves to be moved and directed under Divine Providence by their Superiors, just as if they were a corpse, which allows itself to be moved and handled in any way, or as the staff of an old man, which serves him wherever, and in whatever thing he who holds it in his hand pleases to use it.”  It is perfectly true that there are exceptive clauses adroitly inserted, in which it is said, “When sin is not perceived;” and “where sin cannot be defined.”  But these are wholly neutralized by the context; for how can the corpse or staff perceive the quality of an action? and how can the Jesuit judge of the course which he is pursuing, when it is expressly provided, in the very same sentence, that his obedience must be blind, “renouncing with a blind obedience every opinion and opposing judgment of our own?”  Nay! more.  If he does not obey, but attempts for one moment to hold back and plead his own conviction, it is in the power of the Superior to lay him in a moment under the heavy burden of mortal sin.  The terrors of eternal wrath are placed in the hands of the Superior, and may be brought down with terrific weight to crush the least symptom of doubt or hesitation in the subordinate.  There is a remarkable decree in the Constitutions which has been differently understood by different authors, and of which, in order to avoid the least possibility of contradiction, I give the translation as claimed by the advocates of the Society.

“Although the Society desires that all its Constitutions, &c., should be undeviatingly observed, according to the Institute, it desires nevertheless, that all its members should be secured, or at least assisted against falling into the snare of any sin which may originate from the force of any such Constitutions or injunctions (‘Ne in laqueum ullius peccati, quod ex vi Constitutionum, &c., incidant’): therefore, it hath seemed good to us in the Lord, with the express exception of the vow of obedience to the Pope for the time being, and the other three fundamental vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, to declare that no Constitutions, declarations, or rule of life, can bind under pain of mortal or venial sin [32] (posse obligationem ad peccatum mortale vel veniale inducere).

“Unless the Superior may command them in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, or in virtue of the vow of obedience; and this he may do whenever, and to whomsoever, he may judge it conducive either to individual good, or to the universal well-being of the Society.  And in the place of the fear of offence, let the love and desire of all perfection succeed; that the greater glory and praise of Christ our Creator and Lord may follow.”

So that the poor Jesuit may be compelled to commit what he knows to be wrong at the bidding of his Superior.  He may clearly see it to be utterly opposed to every principle of Scripture; his own conscience may turn from it with horror; his moral sense may utterly condemn it; he may see clearly that he is flying in the face of the most High God; but on he must go, because his Superior bids him; his own judgment and moral sense are to be sacrificed; he is to be absolutely blind as to the character of the action he is about to perform; one thing only he is at liberty to see clearly, and that is, that if he venture to hesitate, he will be guilty of mortal sin.  The Constitution speaks indeed of the love of all perfection succeeding to the fear of offence; but in the very same clause it places this awful power in the hands of the Superior, and arms him with full authority to force on his subjects, in spite of their own consciences, by the terrific threat of the everlasting perdition of their souls.

Now it may occur to some minds to inquire how a power so tremendous can be gained and maintained over so large a body of talented, spirited, and well-educated men?  How is it that the chain does not snap into fragments when required to bear such a pressure?  The phenomenon, I believe, may be partly explained by the power of those religious principles which are perverted by the Jesuits in order to secure their end.  They call out the principle which ought to be subject to the will of God, and by transferring it from God to the Superior, contrive to perpetuate their dominion.  But on this alone they are clearly unable to rely, for there are two most powerful instrumentalities employed; the one at the commencement, and the other throughout the whole of the Jesuit’s career, viz., isolation and information.

If the human mind, with its conscience, will, and judgment, is to become a simple machine in the hands of another, it is clear that there must be some process by which independence may be permanently annihilated.  This process is to separate and isolate him from his fellow-men, to cut off all connexion and alliance with the world without, and so to engraft him into the Society that it and it alone should be the object of his affection, the source of his maintenance, and the sphere for his ambition.  It has pleased God to bind society together by the sacred ties of natural affection; and these ties possess so powerful a uniting influence, that unless they be severed, they form an insurmountable barrier to the exercise of such a power as that claimed for the General.  By one sudden wrench, therefore, they are to be at once and for ever severed.  The novice is required to pledge himself at the time of his admission that he will have no communication either by word of mouth or letter with either his friends or relations, and that every letter which he either receives or writes shall be inspected by his Superior. [35]  He is required, moreover, to “abandon natural affection” towards all related to him; and to such an extent is he required to carry this unhallowed rule, that if any speak to him of his parents he is directed to deny the existence of the tie.  “As the habit of speech assists the habit of the thoughts, it is a holy precept that they should not say that they have parents or brothers, but that they used to have them.” [36a]  So fearfully does the Society fulfil the prophecy of the apostasy, by requiring its members to be “disobedient to parents,” and “without natural affection.” [36b]

It is not sufficient, however, that the novice be thus cut off from his kindred; for the Society can never have a complete hold of him so long as he is possessed of property; it is, therefore, one of their laws that either immediately or after a year’s probation, [36c] the novice should abandon all his possessions, and surrender all interest in, or title to, any property which may at the time belong to him, or may hereafter become his by gift, by trade, by inheritance, or by any other way whatever.  He may be the heir of countless thousands, but, by admission to the Society, he abandons all, and renders himself absolutely penniless.  From the moment of his admission he has nothing; his daily allowance is appointed to him by the Superior, and may be diminished or increased at pleasure.  From the day that he submits himself, to his dying hour, he is dependent on his Superior for home, for clothing, for daily bread.  He cannot fall back upon any remnant of his inheritance and be free, for that inheritance is for ever gone.  Nor is it merely gone, but it is so completely alienated as to leave him no opening for a retreat.  Loyola knew well that a parent’s love is not to be extinguished by the temporary delusion of the child, and that in the parent’s home there is always a welcome for the wanderer.  He, therefore, with great forethought provided that the property should be completely alienated from the family, and devoted to the poor, “to pious works, or to any worthy men who will use it to the advance of the service of God,” [37a] which of course includes the Society of the Jesuits.  The only persons who are excluded from a share are the relations, “in order,” as the rule declares, “that the novices may exhibit a better example to all classes of abandoning inordinate affection to their parents, and of avoiding the inconveniences of an inordinate distribution which arises from the aforesaid affection; and also that they may persevere more firmly and steadily in their vocation, when every avenue of return to their parents and relations, and to the useless recollection of them, is cut off.”  [37b]  When this is done, the dependance of the Jesuit on the General is complete.  If he be a man of talent he may be placed by him in a first-rate position, where every wish is gratified; he may be supplied with ample means and introduced to the best society; he may have, moreover, the prospect of almost unbounded power should he raise himself to the higher ranks of the Order by his unscrupulous ability in its service.  But all this is on the one condition of unqualified and unscrupulous obedience.  Should he venture to resist, the General may order him, without assigning any reason, to become a menial in a convent, a scavenger in the street, or perhaps a missionary in the most distant and deadly station of the Society.  But why not break the yoke and be free? some may inquire.  But how is he to do it?  Let him rebel against the General, and he goes out upon the world a wanderer,—friendless, penniless, homeless, hopeless.  If he be in a Protestant country the case is different; for there are warm hearts to welcome him, and if once his sincerity is established, there are abundance of those who love the Lord, who would rejoice to assist him in his struggles, and befriend him in his efforts to be free.  But suppose that he is in a Roman Catholic country, his whole character is lost on his withdrawal from his Order; and if he were to throw himself on those who were once his relatives, it would only be to be treated by them as one who had first robbed them of their lawful property, and now, having changed his mind, was returning amongst them a renegade and apostate from the faith.  On, therefore, he is compelled to go.  It may be against his conscience, against his judgment, against his deepest feelings of filial affection, or his noblest principles of patriotism or philanthropy.  He may be called to betray his own brother, or to move sedition against his own Queen: but, the vow once taken, there is no room for a retreat, and unless he is prepared to throw himself as an outcast upon the world, he must consent to do that which he abhors, and to use his own talents in a course of action which he condemns.

But why does not faith rise above it all and triumph?  There must be many devoted and high-minded men in the ranks of that vast Society; why do they not rise up in faith, and in the name of the Lord take their choice boldly, and say once for all, “We had rather die than obey and sin?”  Some have already done so with success, and through faith have triumphed; how many more have struggled to do so, none will know till the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed.  For this isolation at the outset is followed up by a constant system of the closest watching afterwards.  So strict and complete is this espionage, that it is almost impossible for the Jesuit to think a thought without detection.  There cannot be a more fearful evidence of the miserable state of iron bondage to which conscientious Jesuits are reduced than the provision made for their discovery.  If they were content, why should they be watched?  But we find it is one of the principles of the Order, that every Jesuit is to be a spy upon every other, and that everything bearing upon character is to be transmitted by every individual to the Superior.  When a young man is admitted, he is especially examined upon this very point, and is required not merely to give his consent that everything observed respecting his own character should be reported, but to add his promise that he will himself act as a spy and informer on all around him. [40a]  Added to which, they are not, except on especial services, allowed to be alone.  In Roman Catholic countries they may always be seen two and two, and it is said that in some of the Colleges the young men are required to go three and three, in order that if two are agreed in anything, they may be detected and betrayed by the third.  Now these companions be it remembered, are not self-chosen, they are not drawn together by any sympathy or affinity of heart, but every appointment is made by the General; so that if any young man of a tender conscience and hopeful spirit should venture to begin to inquire respecting the great principles of the faith, there is nothing easier than to place with him some artful and well-skilled servant of the Company, who shall gain his confidence by apparent sympathy, and then betray every disclosure. [40b]  If, moreover, he ever receives or sends a letter without express permission, his doing so is regarded as a mortal sin; nor can the guilt be absolved by the usual confessor, but the offence must be transmitted as a reserved case to the Superior. [41]  Imagine what it would be to work your way out of such a thraldom, when every word you uttered, every book you read, every friend you spoke to, was observed and reported to those who had absolute dominion over your movements.  But more than this.  There are secrets in the deep recesses of the soul which even the practised spy cannot penetrate, and there are searchings of heart, which, unless willingly discovered, are known only to the individual and to God.  But the poor Jesuit is not to have even a thought which he may call his own.  It is the privilege of other Roman Catholics to choose their own confessor, and they may go to the priest in whom they place the greatest confidence; but it is not so with the Jesuit.  Like everything else, his confessor is appointed for him, and, of course, just such an one as is best calculated to lay open the secrets of his heart.  But even this is not enough.  When the novice is admitted, he is led to believe that his confessions are sacred, and not liable to be reported, a point on which the Roman Catholic mind is naturally particularly sensitive.  But besides the confession, the Jesuit is required periodically to go through a process termed the manifestation of his conscience, in which every wish, thought, fear, habit, pleasure, object of interest, is to be laid open to his Superior.  The object of this manifestation is stated in the Examen to be, that the Superior may be acquainted with the internal as well as the external character, that he may at all times select the most suitable agents for his missions or other services, and that so he may best provide for the good of the whole body of the Society. [42a]  It is perfectly clear, therefore, that the results of these manifestations, although they are said to be sub sigillo, are all transmitted to the General, and obtained for that very purpose.  Now transfer your thoughts to that confessional, and suppose there a conscientious, an inquiring Jesuit.  It is the creed of his Church, which he believes infallible, that, if anything is kept back in confession, the absolution is null and void, and that, without the absolution, he remains under the wrath of God.  With this conviction he kneels down before the wily Father, who is ready with dexterous skill to draw out from him under the pressure of his religious conviction every doubt that has ever troubled him, every book that he has ever read, and every opinion that he has ever entertained upon the subject.  If any wavering is discovered in confession, it is all written down and carefully transmitted as a reserved case to the General. [42b]  But should it be brought to light in the manifestation of his conscience, it must all, as a matter of course, be forwarded to Rome.  The result of which is that in a few weeks the young man is seen no more; perhaps he is gone to some distant land; perhaps he is sent off to be a servant in some distant convent; perhaps he finds himself in the vaults of the Inquisition; perhaps he dies.  And all that can be said is that the young man is gone,—those who once knew him know him no more,—his place is filled by another—he is gone.

How then is a young man to break away from Jesuitism? and how deeply ought we to compassionate the poor unhappy victim of such a monstrous and soul-enthralling tyranny?  Oh! there is something inexpressibly melancholy in the thought that there are thousands of intelligent men at this very hour, thus enslaved, and that the original means of their slavery was their real desire for life eternal in Christ Jesus.  There are, I believe, untold horrors within the walls of the Inquisition, but better far would it be to have the poor body lacerated there by a merciless Inquisitor, while the conscience was free, and the conviction of the heart obeyed, than to be forced on through life a slave, and yet apparently a free man; responsible to God for transgression, and yet compelled to sin, because there is no power to burst the fetters which men have rivetted on the soul.

And what makes the case more melancholy still is that the vows are frequently taken in very early youth.  Mr. Seymour states that although some join in later life, the great majority are trained in the seminaries of the Society, and that many take the vows at the early age of eighteen.  When such is the case it is clear that the unhappy novice is completely secured before he has any opportunity of forming an acquaintance with the world.  He renounces domestic happiness before he knows its joys, and gives up his property before he learns its value.  In the simplicity of his boyhood he gradually imbibes the principles of his instructor, and is trained to regard obedience as the essence of Christianity; and then, just at the moment when the powers begin to be developed, and the mind to put forth its strength in independent action, the yoke is rivetted, and the poor captive made a slave for life.  Nor is he in this important step allowed even his father’s counsel.  God teaches the young man to look up to his parents, and say, “My Father, thou art the guide of my youth;” but the Jesuit teaches him to cast aside such guidance, and the following iniquitous rule is laid down in the secret instructions of the Society: “Let them be strictly cautioned not to make the least discovery of their call to any intimate friend, not even their parents, before they are admitted.” [44]

Now if a young man is thus to give up all in behalf of the Society—if property is to be sacrificed, and parents abandoned—the very least that should be done by honest men is to set the whole system fully and frankly before him.  He should at all events have the opportunity of considering well the consequences of his decision.  But as he is cut off from seeking the counsel of his father, so is he forbidden even to make himself acquainted with the whole of the Constitutions of the Society; and I find a passage in the outset of the Examen, which expressly directs, “That all the Constitutions be not read by those who come as novices, but only a compendium of those parts from which they may learn what they have themselves to do.” [45]  He is, therefore, to be gradually drawn on, step by step; he is never allowed to see the whole system, lest he should recoil from it; but he is led on, little by little, till he becomes so inextricably entangled, that there is not the slightest possibility of a return.

Truly the heart burns at the thought of such an outrage on every law of nature, on every principle of Christianity.  Can that be Christianity which can resort to such expedients, and can depend for its power on such an instrumentality?  Men may admire Jesuitism as a beautiful and well-adjusted machinery; they may be acquainted with individual Jesuits, and entertain a great respect for their talents, their acquirements, their mild and gentle manners; but let them look at the great broad facts of the system, at the cruel and oppressive apparatus, which is brought to bear on the conscience of its members, at the absolute crushing of all individual principle and conviction, at the early age at which sanguine youths are entangled and enslaved; and then let them decide whether it is possible that such a system can have the most distant connexion with that glorious liberty wherewith Christ has made us free.  Does not the Gospel fill men with joy and peace in believing?  Does it not elevate the soul to sweet and holy communion with God?  Does it not purify the heart and make the conscience sensitive to sin?  And can that be consistent, I appeal to any Roman Catholic, with such a system as that of Jesuitry, which seizes a young man at the age of eighteen, strips him of his property, isolates him from his home, deadens his conscience, closes against him every possibility of escape, and then sends him forth into society, the thinking tool, the acting instrument in the hands of his captor?

It is stated by Mr. Seymour that the character of the Society is in high esteem for morality at Rome.  One of them said to him, “We have been charged with being crafty intriguers—with intermeddling in politics—with swaying princes—with disturbing kingdoms—with embroiling families.  We have been charged with everything but one.  No man has ever charged us with personal immorality.”  And Mr. Seymour adds, that this boast is certainly true as respects the Jesuits of Rome; so true that whereas all men in that city hesitate not to denounce the other Monkish orders as idle, debauched, licentious, they never breathe a whisper against the personal morality of the Jesuits.  If morality were confined to the absence of profligacy, I believe that the same might be said of the personal behaviour of the great majority of modern Jesuits; but if we take the term in its wider and nobler sense, as expressing the moral will of God, or the reflection of it in the moral sense, which still remains within the heart, notwithstanding our ruin in the fall: if morality convey to us the idea of purity, truth, honesty, justice, and all those noble principles which should regulate man’s intercourse with man, then I believe it may be shown to demonstration that the Order has sanctioned principles which are sufficient to dissolve every moral tie, and, if extensively prevalent, to break up the whole fabric of society.  I do not mean that such principles are boldly stated in their Constitutions and public documents, for, of course, it would not answer their purpose to avow them.  But they are maintained and defended by their most celebrated writers, and if we only bear in mind that no Jesuit is permitted to publish any book without first submitting it to his Superior, it is clear that the Society becomes responsible for every publication of its members.  The leading principles of the Order strips the writer of his individuality, and every publication of every individual amongst them becomes an authorized document of the Society.  It cannot go forth without the imprimatur of the General, and if it has that imprimatur, then the Society becomes responsible for its sentiments. [48]

Let us take one or two specimens of their moral maxims.

The reader has doubtless heard of the doctrine of Probability; the principle of which is, that if any writer of repute has recommended a certain conduct, then that conduct becomes probably right.  If any author, especially any modern, has advanced a certain opinion, then that opinion becomes probable.  It matters not what evidence there is against it.  It may be condemned by the concurrent voice of all honest men, but still it is rendered probable if defended by a single individual.

But what results from this probability? and what harm is done if the opinion be accounted probable?  It is really almost inconceivable that any men should have had the daring to advance such a maxim as may be found in countless passages in the writings of the Order.  It is nothing less than this.  That if any opinion be probable it may be adopted with a clear conscience, and if any action be probably right, a man may perform it and be harmless, whatever be its character.  Mr. Dalton quotes the following passage, amongst many others, from George De Rhodes:[49]—“The authority of one good doctor is a sufficient reason on which to ground the probability of any opinion; so that every one may safely follow it.”  Where, Oh, where is the vaunted certainty of Romish teaching?  We hear of men seeking rest in Rome’s authority in order that their soul may be satisfied with certainty.  And the human mind requires certainty; the interests of eternity are far too solemn to allow men to rest satisfied if their only hope be in a doubt or an opinion.  But who, we may boldly challenge them to answer us, has the certainty now,—the poor unhappy man who is floating hither and thither on a whole sea of Jesuitical probabilities?—or the man who can plant his firm foot on the immoveable rock of the unchanging word of the living God, and fearlessly declare, “This is certain, because it is inspired; this is truth, because God has revealed it in the Bible?”

It seems at first sight that such principles as these must lead to endless perplexity and embarrassment, and so they must if all love of truth be not first extinguished.  But on the other hand it is clear that they give unbounded latitude in conduct, and by referring truth to the ever-varying standard of man’s opinion, enable the Jesuit to justify anything.  Pascal puts this with great power in his “Provincial Letters.”  He supposes a Jesuit father to be conversing with him as follows:—“They, the authors, are very often of different opinions; but that does not signify; every one renders his own probable and sure.  We well know that they have not the same sentiments, it is all the better for that.  On the contrary, they hardly ever agree.  There are very few questions where you will not find that one says yes, and the other no.  In all cases of that sort, one and the other of the contrary opinions is probable.  But, my father, said I, we must be very much embarrassed in choosing!  Not at all, said he, you have only to follow the one that pleases the most.  What! if the other is more probable?  It does not signify, said he.  And if the other is more certain?  It does not signify, repeated the father; here it is, well explained.  It is Emmanuel Sa, of our Society, in his aphorism De Dubiis:—‘We may do what we think lawful according to a probable opinion, although the contrary may be more certain.  The opinion of a grave doctor is sufficient.’ . . .  We have certainly large scope, reverend father, said I, thanks to your probable opinions.  We have fine liberty of conscience.  And you casuists, have you the same liberty in your answers?  Yes, said he, we answer as we please, or rather as pleases those who consult us, for here are our rules taken from our fathers, Layman, Vasquez, Sanchez, &c.  Here are the words of Layman:—‘A doctor upon being consulted can give advice not only probable, according to his opinion, but contrary to his opinion, if it is estimated probable by others when his contrary advice is found more favourable and more agreeable to the person that consults him.  But I say more, it would not be at all wrong that he should give to those who consult him, an opinion held probable by some learned person, even while he himself knew it to be absolutely false.’”

Are we then to place our souls under the guidance of such teachers?  Are we to abandon the pure, the clear, the unerring truth of Scripture, at the bidding of one who is ready to declare black white, and white black, at the bidding of his Church?  I solemnly appeal to any Roman Catholic into whose hands this Lecture may ever fall, Can this be Christianity?  Can such a system be from God?  Is this the Divine and eternal truth which you are seeking in the Church of Rome?  Nay, more!  Can you place the smallest confidence in any Jesuit, priest or confessor, when you find it boldly asserted that he may give you an opinion as to the great concerns of your soul’s salvation, which at the very time he gives it he knows in his own heart to be absolutely false?

But their principles of equivocation, mental restriction, and the direction of intention, are equally subversive of all that is trustworthy amongst men.

By equivocation they mean the use of terms of so ambiguous a character that the hearer receives them in one sense, while the speaker employs them in another.

By mental restriction is intended the suppression of certain parts of a sentence, so as to give to the remainder a meaning opposed to truth.  Pascal quotes the following passage from one Sanchez: “A man may swear,” says he, “that he has not done a thing, although in fact he has done it, meaning within himself that he did not do it on a certain day, or before he was born, or understanding some other similar circumstance, without permitting it to appear in any way through the words employed! and this,” he adds, “is very convenient on many occasions, and is always perfectly right when it is necessary for the health, the honour, or the interests.”

By the direction of intention is meant the proposing to oneself an object of intention entirely at variance with the act committed: as, e.g., the Jesuits in South India encouraged their converts to bow down before heathen idols, on the principle that though the act of adoration was given to the idol, the intention was directed to a small crucifix which each of the worshippers had concealed about his person.  Thus, argues Pascal, with his keen satire, “They content the world by permitting the sinful action, and they satisfy the Gospel by purifying the intention.”  “You give to men,” says he, “the outward and material effects of the action, and you render to God the interior and spiritual movement of the intention: so that by this equitable division you produce an alliance between the human law and the Divine.”  Now there is nothing in the whole catalogue of crime which may not be justified by such a monstrous principle.  Pascal quotes passages to show that a man may even commit murder, provided only that his intention be to preserve his honour, and not to take revenge upon his enemy; nor is there any one of the blackest crimes that have ever disgraced humanity, which may not be justified, if we are to admit the idea that the act can be separate from the will; that the heart can be pure, while the hand is defiled in blood, or the intention acceptable to God, while the outward action is in direct opposition to his law.

Such are specimens of the principles of moral conduct advanced by the writers of the Society.  It is clear at a moment’s glance that they are destructive of every moral obligation, and give unbounded license to every kind of crime.  Now, it is a question of very great interest, how far is the Church of Rome as a body identified with those principles of the Jesuits?  I do not say how far are Romanists as individuals, because I am fully aware that a conscientious Romanist would recoil from them with as much aversion as ourselves.  It is not a nice point of controversial theology, but a simple matter of right and wrong; and whatever men may think on such a subject as transubstantiation, no honourable man can approve of mental restriction.  I take it for granted therefore, that the great body of Roman Catholic Englishmen condemn them.  But how does the Church as a Church stand affected by them?  It has been already shewn that as the Society claims an absolute control over all Jesuit authors, it becomes thereby responsible for their sentiments.  But still this does not reach the Popedom; the Company may be guilty, and not Popery.  But not so when we find that on August 4, 1814, Pope Pius VII. issued a Bull in which, by Pontifical authority, he solemnly sanctioned the re-establishment of the Order.  It is true that this Bull was in flat contradiction to that of Clement XIV., so that one infallible Pope was in direct opposition to another. [55]  But that is not our concern—it is not our business to decide which of the two infallibles was wrong,—all that we may leave to those who believe in their infallibility.  The one important fact for us is this, that Pope Pius VII. re-established the Order in 1814, and that his Bull remains to this day unretracted in the archives of the Vatican.  It is also important to observe that he did it with these moral enormities fully in view.  Of course, as an infallible person, he must have known Jesuit doctrine through the simple power of his own infallibility; but even if that had failed him, he had in the archives of the Vatican the language of Clement stating distinctly:—“And further, concerning the use and exposition of certain maxims, which the Holy See has with reason proscribed, as scandalous and manifestly contrary to good morals.”  So that our heavy charge against the Popedom is, that with all these facts clearly in view, the Pope put his seal and sanction upon the Company.  He ordained that these letters of his should be “inviolably observed in all time coming,” and accordingly to this hour they are in force.  He declares that he should “consider it a great crime against God if, amidst these dangers of the Christian republic, he neglected the aids which the especial providence of God had placed at his disposal;” a crime, that is, to neglect the aid of an Order which breaks down truth by the doctrine of probabilities, and gives a loose rein to every sinful action by the licentious theory, that in the midst of crime the intention may be pure.  Are these, then, the weapons, and are these the principles, on which the Church of Rome relies for the maintenance of power? and if they be,—I ask the question fearlessly, Can it be the Church of God?  Do not now perplex your minds by a few hard texts, or the nice subtilties of acute controversialists.  But look at the great, broad, and admitted features of Jesuitical morality; and then look at the Papacy leaning for support on that very Order, though all its principles are open and exposed before the world, and decide, can that Papacy be the Spouse of Christ?—can that be the truth of God, which leans on such a system for its support?—can he be the Vicar of our blessed Lord who gives his unqualified sanction to a Society acting on such principles? to a body of men the very essence of whose system is that they are ready to declare black white, and white black, at a bidding of the Pope? [57]

It seems strange to mention the holy name of religion in connexion with such principles as those of probability and intention, and the first feeling of the heart is to rise up in holy indignation, and to declare it is utterly impossible that religion can have anything to do with such a system.  But such a conclusion would be clearly incorrect; for not only do the facts prove that there is a certain religious principle in action, but I believe it may be shewn that such results could not be produced except through the power of a debased and perverted Christianity.  The assertion may startle some, but I believe that upon investigation it will be found true, that there is less power in bare, barren, blank Infidelity, to break down the morality of a man, than there is in a Gospel, debased and defiled to suit his purposes.  Infidelity gives no sop to the conscience, no chloroform to destroy the sense of sin, nor can it altogether root out the moral sense, however mournfully it may sear and deaden it.  But the case is different with a debased religion.  It overpowers conscience, by setting off against it the spurious principles of a pretended Christianity.  It produces certain maxims, for which it claims pre-eminence, because it says they come from Christ; and, by the very authority which they derive from the misappropriation of that holy name, it tramples the moral sense under foot, and leaves the pervert ready for any enormity that it may require.  I have no doubt, therefore, in my own mind, that a large proportion of the Company of Jesuits are, in one sense, religious men; nor can we look at the history of Jesuit missions, at their indefatigable zeal, untiring self-denial, patient endurance, and, in some instances, cheerful martyrdom, without the conviction that a deep religious feeling has been more or less their actuating power.  But more than this,—you may see it even in their crimes; you may there obtain the most perfect illustration of the statement just made, that a perverted religion may be called in to give its sanction to those crimes which an Infidel without religion dare not commit.  Look, for example, at the letter of Sir Everard Digby to his wife, written when he was under sentence of death for the Gunpowder Plot, in which he says,—“Now for my intention, let me tell you, that if I had thought there had been the least sin in the plot, I would not have been of it for all the world, and no other cause led me to hazard my fortune and life but zeal for God’s religion.” [59]  Look again at the remarkable fact, that those conspirators received a solemn mass from a Jesuit father of the name of Gerard, when they solemnly swore to do their part in the conspiracy; and that the whole scheme was known to Garnett, the Provincial of the Society. [60]  So that the solemn sanction of the Lord’s death and sufferings was thrown over all the enormous guilt of that long-premeditated and wholesale murder.

But then the question arises, What can be the perversion of Christianity which can lead to such an abandonment of the moral sense?  The full answer to the question might occupy volumes; but there is one root to which, I believe, the whole may be traced; and although it may seem at first scarcely sufficient to produce so vast a Upas-tree, yet I believe it will be found in fact that the whole plant has sprung from it;—I mean, the substitution of man for God in the great business of the soul’s guidance and salvation.

The passages already quoted prove this substitution very clearly, with reference to the guidance of the Jesuit; but if there were any doubt of it, it would be removed by the oath of profession, in which it is sworn,—“I, N., make profession, and promise Almighty God, before his Virgin Mother, and before the heavenly hosts, and before all bystanders, and you, Rev. Father, General of the Society of Jesus, holding the place of God.”  There is, therefore, a double transfer of Divine authority.  The Pope stands between the General and God, and the General between the Jesuit and the Pope.  There is a double delegation of Divine powers, the Lord being said to confer them on the Pope, the Pope conferring them on the General, and the Jesuit then swearing, in the most solemn moment of his life, that the General “holds the place of God.”  And what must be the necessary result?  That moral truth is no longer learned from the fountain of truth, but from the corrupt, the designing, the human authority that stands between the Creator and the soul.  The Divine law is obscured, the human will is adopted in its place.  The result of such a change must obviously be, that the character of the body must become the mere reflection of the character of the head; that his corruptions take the place of Divine perfections; and his schemes, whatever be their nature, are regarded as identical with the glory of the Lord.  Hence the very religion of the Jesuit prepares him for any desperate measures provided only that his Superior gives his sanction to them; and the more that his soul feels in earnest, the more ready will he be to plunge on in any course of action, if only his head, a man quite as fallible as himself, and perhaps more corrupt, gives the word of command, and sanctions the foul act by his authority.

There is obedience, but, being transferred to a wrong object, the right principle produces a depraved and corrupt result.  There is zeal, but it is all put out for the furtherance of the plans of a scheming man, instead of rising high to the blessed end of seeking God’s glory.  There is some fear towards God, but it is directed not by God himself, but the Superior; and hence it follows that the Jesuits, whilst they set aside the practical use of Scripture, do in fact confirm its truth; for they stand out as living witnesses to the unfailing truth of that remarkable passage which connects alienation of heart with the substitution of human for Divine instruction, and says,—“This people draw near me with their mouth, and with their lips do honour me, but have removed their heart far from me, and their fear toward me is taught by the precept of men.” [62]

There is just the same substitution of man for God in the great work of a sinner’s salvation; and from this, as the root, may be said to spring the whole remainder of the system.  Loyola, as is well known, struggled hard for peace.  Deeply convinced of sin, he passed through an agony of soul in search of life; and, failing to find it as God has revealed it, in free grace and full redemption, he made a desperate plunge into Jesuitry, and the creation of the Order was the result.  His book of “Spiritual Exercises,” written shortly after the time of his conflict, is still the standing work for the Jesuit’s personal religion.  The reader has been already informed of the high authority by which it has been introduced to the British public, but few who are not acquainted with the mechanical character of the whole Romish system will be prepared for the mournful substitution of man’s action for God’s grace, which pervades both the preface and the book.  The book contains a plan for passing a novice through a kind of spiritual manufacture in twenty-eight days; or rather, it used to be twenty-eight days in the time of Loyola; but we travel now by railroads, and everything moves quickly, so that Cardinal Wiseman states in his preface that the twenty-eight days may now be reduced to ten. [63a]  Now, learn what may be accomplished in these ten days.  The Cardinal says,—“It is not a treatise on sin, or virtue; it is not a method of Christian perfection; but it contains the entire practice of perfection, by making us at once conquer sin, and acquire virtue.” [63b]  Now, it is a question of the deepest interest to ascertain the process by which sin is to be conquered in twenty-eight, or by us moderns in ten days.  It is a secret that many a sin-burdened conscience would give worlds, if it had them, to discover.  But really it is most deeply affecting to turn to the book, and see the utter emptiness of the whole scheme.  According to the Cardinal, “it is divided into four weeks, and each of these has its specific object, to advance the exercitant an additional step towards perfect virtue.  If the work of each week be thoroughly done, this is actually accomplished.” [63c]

The aim of the first week, according to the same authority, “is the cleansing of the conscience from past sin, and of the affections from their future dangers.”  And how is this mighty result to be accomplished? how is the conscience to be cleansed from the past, and the affections guaranteed for the future?  How is the frail and wavering heart of man to be so purified in a single week, that it shall go out into a world of trial and temptation, “cleansed against future danger?”  Really it makes the heart sad to read the miserable and mournful absence of all that the Gospel has provided for a sinner.  Loyola knew what sin was, and had bitterly felt its sting, so that there are touching signs of the sincerity of the deep inward conflict which passed within his soul.  But the melancholy part of the whole matter is, that there is no hint at the only remedy.  There is not a single passage in which the troubled conscience is directed to the atonement, as God’s provision for man’s free pardon; not a single allusion to the Lord’s advocacy, and no mention of either the name or the office of the Holy Ghost.  But in the place of all this, there are certain rules to be observed during the retreat.  If the inquirer is in business, he must be satisfied with the devotion of an hour and a half daily to the work. [64a]  If he has more leisure, he is directed “to migrate from his former habitation into some more secret house or cell;” [64b] being there, he is “to deprive himself of all the brightness of the light, shutting the doors and windows as long as he remains there, except while he has to read or take his food.” [65a]  He is “to direct his eyes on no one, unless the occasion of saluting or taking leave require it;” [65b] “he is to do penance by fasting, by limiting the hours of his sleep, and by the use of hair-cloth, ropes, iron bars, and whips;” but, “in preference, whips of small cords, which hurt the outward parts, and not those within, so as to injure the health.” [65c]  He is provided with a manual to assist him in meditation, and self-examination; and, above all, he places himself under the guidance and authority of a director, “for,” says Dr. Wiseman, “the life of a good retreat is a good director.” [65d]

With this apparatus complete, he sets to work, and is directed to draw a diagram, like the following, containing seven pairs of lines, one pair for each day. [65e]

These are to be employed for the measurement of his sins.  He is to remember and enumerate the number of times he has been in fault, and twice every day mark the same number of points on the proper line of the series.  Now what is the result of the first week’s discipline?  The lines, the reader will observe, become shorter and shorter daily, till at length, at the end of one single week, according to Dr. Wiseman, “sin is [66a] abandoned, hated, loathed.  At the conclusion of the painful task, the soul finds itself prostrate and full of anxieties.  The past is remedied; but what is to be done for the future?” [66b]

Such is the description given by this high authority of this miserable, mechanical counterfeit of Christianity.  What becomes of the deep-seated corruption of the human heart?  Where is the work of the Spirit?  And if the conscience could be cleansed, and the past remedied by such a paltry human artifice, where, Oh, where was the necessity for atonement? and what need was there that Emanuel should shed his precious blood upon the cross?

But does it not verify the charge which I brought against the system, of substituting man for God in the salvation of the sinner?  What is it that conquers sin in the first two days and a half of the retreat?  Is it the Saviour?  Is it the Spirit?  Or is it the man?  Wiseman says,—“It is the work of each week, thoroughly done.” [66c]

To this one leading principle all Jesuitry may without any difficulty be traced; and if so, we may surely learn the one weapon by which it may be resisted and overcome.  The evil originates in the substitution of man for God, and therefore the weapon by which it must be opposed is the exaltation of the Lord himself, as the only author of the soul’s salvation.  “Be thou exalted, O God, in thine own strength, so will we sing and praise thy power.”  There is a great conflict raging.  There are swarms of these subtle adversaries filling the land; there is a vast power arrayed against us; the enemy is active, well combined, and unscrupulous; but they must not be met by their own weapons; for we had rather have all that is dear to us trodden under foot in the lowest dust, than gain the most brilliant triumphs through the use of a single weapon adopted from their armoury.  We give them the exclusive use of all their probabilities, and are ready to meet them, without either subtlety or disguise, but with the plain, honest, frank, and open bearing of honest-minded servants of the Lord; we must be satisfied to struggle in the Lord’s strength, and to employ the Lord’s weapons.  Nor need we be afraid in the conflict.  Their human machinery, I freely grant, is superior to ours; their agency more complete, and their combination more perfect.  “But the Egyptians are men, and not God, and their horses flesh, and not spirit.”  They in all their system have been guilty of the substitution of man for God; but our joy is to exalt God on his own throne; and our certain expectation is to triumph through the might of his own right hand.  It is true, indeed, that they can summon to their assistance the countless contrivances of human subtlety, but our weapon is far superior to all, for it is from the Lord himself, it is the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God.  There is no denying that they can assume any guise, and worm their way into the unsuspecting family; but our hope is in the power of the Spirit, to whom the heart itself is open as the day.  They can meet us, indeed, and perhaps over-match us, in their varied appliances for intellectual education, they may be powerful in the pulpit, and attractive in the confessional, but they have no message that has one thousandth part of the loveliness of ours, for, unless they are false to their own principles, they can never proclaim to anxious sinners a finished atonement, and free pardon through the blood of the Lamb.  There is much, indeed, to be apprehended in their close combination under the able conduct of a well-appointed General; but no general upon earth is to be compared to the Captain of the Lord’s hosts, whom God himself has set apart from the beginning to be “the leader and commander of the people.”  Only let us be faithful to that blessed Master, honouring his word, leaning on his Spirit, at all times setting forth his grace; and the time will come, as certainly as God’s word is true, when the whole fabric of Jesuitry shall be split into shivers; when the prophecy shall be fulfilled, “Associate yourselves, and ye shall be broken in pieces when the triumphant cry shall originate in heaven, and shall swell back in a vast echo from a regenerate world, ‘We give thee thanks, O Lord God Almighty, because thou hast taken unto thee thy great power, and hast reigned.’”

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BAPTISM AS TAUGHT BY THE BIBLE AND THE PRAYER-BOOK.  No. 6, Tracts for Churchmen.  Seeley.

[10]  Exam. cap. i.

[11a]  Exam. cap. vi. 3.

[11b]  Exam. cap. vi. 4.

[11c]  Exam. cap. vi. 1.

[12a]  Duller’s Jesuits.

[12b]  These privileges are of no ordinary value, as is proved by the fact that any persons of either sex, who shall once a-year visit any church or pious place of the Society on a given day, appointed by the General for the time being, between the first vespers and sunset, and shall then repeat the Lord’s Prayer and the angelic salutation, may obtain a plenary indulgence and remission of all their sins.—“Letter Apostolic of Pope Paul III.,” p. 49.  Antwerp edition.

[15]  Circular of Foreign-Aid Society.

[17]  “Secreta Monita,” ch. ii., 2, 8.

[18a]  Ord. cap. xi., § 2.

[18b]  “Secreta Monita,” chap. xvii. 8.

[19a]  Neal gives the following curious extract from a letter from an English Jesuit to the Rector of the College at Brussels:—“I cannot choose but laugh to see how some of our own coat have accoutred themselves; and it is admirable how in speech and gesture they act the Puritans.  The Cambridge scholars, to their woful experience, shall see we can act the Puritans a little better than they have done the Jesuits.  They have abused our sacred patron in jest, but we will make them smart for it in earnest.”—Neal’s “Puritans,” vol. i., p. 515.

[20]  The following circumstance was recently mentioned to the author by the Rev. Hugh Stowell:—A gentleman named Bridge settled at Salford with three daughters.  He appeared to be an intelligent and active man, and being a decided Conservative, was, after a time, made Secretary to the Manchester Conservative Association.  From that time there was reason to believe that the plans of the Association were betrayed, when one morning another gentleman named Bridge, also residing in Salford Crescent, whose Christian name commenced with the same initial as that of the other, received a letter from the College of Jesuits at Rome, giving him full directions as to the manner in which he should conduct the business of the Association.  The Mr. Bridge who received it forwarded it to his neighbour, and the Conservative Secretary disappeared from Salford Crescent that afternoon.

[24]  “Pilgrimage to Rome,” chap. vii.

[25]  Primum ac Generate Examen, chap. IV., §§ 9, 10,11, 12.

[26]  Examen, chap. IV., § 30.

[27]  Taylor’s Loyola.

[29]  In the translation the word “white” is most ingeniously substituted for “black” in flat contradiction both to the sense and to the Latin.  The sentiment as really expressed was probably considered too atrocious for the honesty of the English character.

[30]  Pilgrimage to Rome.

[31]  Part VI., cap. i., §. 1.

[32]  The reader will see in a moment that the translation given above is not correct, according to the ordinary rules of the Latin language.  The words “obligare ad aliquid” mean “to oblige a person to do a thing,” and so the author of the Constitutions has employed them in the 3d chap. and 5th sec. of the “Examen,” where the expression, “Obligare ad matrimonium,” is clearly “to oblige to marry.”  The translation, therefore, which was given in the first edition, viz., “can lead to an obligation to sin mortal or venial,” is undoubtedly correct.  But there are passages in the book, and in some other scholastic authors, in which the phrase, “obligatio ad peccatum,” is employed to convey the idea that the obligation is of such a character as to render disobedience a sin; and as it is possible that the phrase may be so employed in this passage, I have given the version which the friends of the Society desire.  I cannot, however, think that the ordinary rules of scholarship are to be wholly set aside, or the real meaning of the words excluded altogether from the translation; and I am confirmed in this opinion by the reference to the decree in the index of a copy recently procured, which was published at Rome in the College of the Society, in the year A.D. 1615, and which may be supposed to convey the true meaning of the Constitution.  In this index the passage is referred to in the following words: “Superiores possunt obligare ad peccatum in virtute obedientiæ, quando id multum conveniat.”  The natural antecedent of the “id” is clearly “peccatum,” in which case the translation must be, “The Superiors may oblige to sin in virtue of obedience, when it (the sin) is particularly convenient.”  If this be not the meaning, what occasion would there be for the “multum conveniat?”  But, translated either way, the decree is so bad, that the question is scarcely worth discussion.

[35]  Examen, chap. iv. 6.

[36a]  Exam. iv. 7.

[36b]  2 Tim. iii. 2, 3.

[36c]  Exam. iv. 2.

[37a]  Exam. iv. 5.

[37b]  Sec. 2.

[40a]  Examen, iv. 8.

[40b]  The rule is as follows: “If any one has failed in giving unquestionable proof of his obedience, an associate should always be united with him, who has been more conspicuous therein.”—Const., P. viii., chap, i., sec. 3.

[41]  Ordinance of the Fifth General Congregation.

[42a]  Examen, iv. 35.

[42b]  “Which confessor ought not to be at a loss what cases should be reserved for the Superior.  Those, then, shall be reserved which shall seem necessary or highly expedient to be known by him.”—Const., Part III., Chap. I.

[44]  Sec. Mon. xiii. 9.

[45]  Examen, T. G.

[48]  The rule is as follows:—“If any one is endowed with the talent of writing books conducive to the common good, and shall compose any such,—he ought not to publish any writings unless the General shall first see them, and cause them to be read and examined, so that they may come before the public if they seem good for edification, and not otherwise.”—Const. vii. iv. 11.

[49]  For this and many similar passages see Dalton’s “Jesuits.”

[55]  Pope Clement XIV. said, “Our will and pleasure is that these our letters should, for ever and for all eternity, be valid, permanent, and efficacious, . . . and be inviolably observed by all and every whom they do or may concern, now or hereafter, in any manner whatever.”—21st July, 1773.

Pius VII. reinstated the Order, “notwithstanding any apostolical constitutions and ordinances, especially the Brief of Clement XIV., of happy memory . . . which we expressly abrogate, as far as contrary to the present order.”—7th August, 1814.

[57]  Some good illustrations of the morality of the Jesuits are given in a book called “Cases of Conscience by Pascal the younger.”—Bosworth.

[59]  Hume’s History.

[60]  Dalton on the Jesuits.

[62]  Isaiah xxix. 13.

[63a]  “The Spiritual Exercises.”  Dolman, 1847.  Pref., p. 21.

[63b]  Ibid, p. 14.

[63c]  Ibid, p. 14.

[64a]  P. 12.

[64b]  P. 13.

[65a]  P. 42.

[65b]  P. 42.

[65c]  P. 44.

[65d]  Pref., p. 20.

[65e]  P. 19.

[66a]  The italics are the Cardinal’s.

[66b]  “The Spiritual Exercises,” Pref., p. 15.

[66c]  Ibid., p. 14.