Title: The Jesuits
Author: Hoare, Edward N.
Language: English
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Transcribed from the 1852 J. H. Jackson edition by David Price, email
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                               THE JESUITS.


                                * * * * *

                                  BY THE
                         REV.  EDWARD HOARE, MA.,
                  INCUMBENT OF CHRIST CHURCH, RAMSGATE.

                                * * * * *

                             Second Edition.

                                * * * * *

                                 LONDON:
                     J. H. JACKSON, ISLINGTON GREEN,
                           AND PATERNOSTER-ROW;
             HATCHARD, PICCADILLY; AND SEELEYS, FLEET STREET.

                                  1852.

                                * * * * *

_Protestant Associations_, _or other parties_, _desirous of circulating
large numbers of this pamphlet_, _may obtain them at a considerable
reduction_, _by applying to the Publisher_.



PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.


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.



CHAPTER I.
GENERAL OBJECT AND ORGANIZATION.


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.



ORGANIZATION.


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.



CHAPTER II.
PLAN OF ACTION.


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.



CHAPTER III.
THE CONNECTING TIE.


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?



CHAPTER IV.
MORALITY.


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}



CHAPTER VI.
RELIGION.


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}

                [Picture: Diagram of seven pairs of lines]

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.’”

                                * * * * *

                                * * * * *

              Macintosh, Printer, Great New-street, London.

                                * * * * *



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FOOTNOTES.


{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.





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