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HISTORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FALL OF THE JESUITS 
 
 IN THE 
 
 EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 By count ALEXIS DE §AINT-PEIEST, 
 
 PEER OF FRANCE. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH. 
 
 NEW EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 JOHN MUERAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, 
 
 1861. 
 
. h 
 
 S3I3 
 
( iii ^ 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Jesuits in Portugal— Their Influence— Conspiracy of the Fidalgos 
 — The Marquis de Pombal— The Jesuits banished from Portugal . I 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Jesuits and Madame de Pompadour— Trial of Father Lavalette — 
 Louis XV. expels the Jesuits from France — Charles III. drives them 
 from the Spanish Monarchy . . . . . . .21 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Duke de Choiseul — Affair of Parma — Death of Clement XIII, — 
 The Conclave— The Emperor Joseph II. at Rome — Election of 
 Ganganelli — Clement XIV. . 
 
 39 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Negotiations — The Cardinal de Bernis — The Count de Florida Blanca 
 — Letter of Suppression — Clement XIV. dies poisoned . . . G5 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Consequences of the Death of Clement XIV. — Election of Pius VI. — 
 His Reign — The Jesuits and Pius VI. — Palafox and Labre . . 96 
 
iv CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Page 
 
 Joseph 11. — His ecclesiastical Reforms— Visit of Pius VI. to Vienna — 
 1782 and 1804 Ill 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Jesuits repudiate the Brief for their Suppression — Their Retreat 
 into Prussia — Frederic the Great protects the Jesuits and quarrels 
 -with the French Philosophers — Causes of this Disagreement— The 
 Jesuits in Russia — Their Opposition to the Holy See — Ambiguous 
 Conduct of Pius VI. — Bull for their re-establishment . . .138 
 
 40ST0N GOUESe UPMff 
 etf CSTNU7 HIIjL MABil 
 
 NOV f?0 1974 ■ ^^0& 
 
 
 
 
 "WSLL LIBHARv 
 BOSTON COLLEGF 
 
HISTORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FALL OF THE JESUITS 
 
 IX THE 
 
 EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Tlie Jesuits in Portugal — Their Influence — Conspiracy of the Fidalgos — 
 The Marquis de Pombal — The Jesuits banished from Portugal. 
 
 Toward the close of the Eighteenth century an event occurred 
 which marked the history of this period with a character of no 
 ordinary importance — the expulsion of the Society of the Jesuits 
 from the principal Catholic states in Europe, and their suppres- 
 sion by the See of Rome. It appears strange that the interest 
 attachinoc to these events, keenlv and universallv as it was felt 
 at the period when they occurred, has never attracted the due 
 attention of the historian ; whilst such partial accounts as have 
 been published abound with misrepresentations and party per- 
 version. The object of the present work is to supply in part 
 this blank page in history, by giving an impartial narrative of 
 events, founded upon such authentic documents as the author 
 has been fortunate enough to have at his command. At the 
 same time the actors in the great drama which is here recorded, 
 rather than himself, will narrate its progress, — Pombal and 
 Choiseul, Clement XIV. and Pius YI., the Cardinal de Bernis 
 and Father Ricci, Charles III. and Louis XY., Frederick, and 
 
2 THE FALL OF TIrE J ESUITS [chap. i. 
 
 Joseph ; and, in addition to these sovereigns and statesmen, 
 the favourite of a monarch, the Marchioness de Pompadour. 
 
 Before we enter upon the history of this singular revolution, 
 we must notice an error which has been spread widely and de- 
 signedly/ A conquered party invariably attribute their defeat to 
 tiie effect of outward circumstances, although it may generally 
 be traced to causes existing among themselves. The panegy- 
 rists of the Jesuits represent their fall as the result of a conspi- 
 racy originating at a distance, artfully planned, and aided by 
 complicated intrigues, which rendered that event inevitable. 
 They represent kings, ministers, and philosophers as being all 
 leagued against the Society, or (which in their view is much the 
 same thing) against religion. This is incorrect : neither pre- 
 meditation, plan, nor concert led to the overthrow of Jesuitism. 
 Many interests had undoubtedly for a long time previous con- 
 spired against the Jesuits, whose conduct had provoked a feeling 
 of bitter animosity ; but it was no philosophical school, nor 
 any political intrigue, that eventually proved their ruin, — it was 
 simply the progress of events^ Their fall was neither decreed 
 at Ferney, nor at Versailles. Notwithstanding the recollection 
 of the Bull Unigenitus, no person in France had dreamt of 
 the destruction of the Society ; the Jansenists were alone in- 
 terested in its proscription, but their enemies were already too 
 numerous to render it prudent in them to provoke fresh hostility: 
 whilst, on the other hand, the French philosophers, who were 
 equally removed from either party, did not desire the destruction 
 of the Institution, since they desired still less the triumph of 
 the Parliament of Paris, and the restoration of Port- Royal. 
 No preconcerted measures therefore were taken against the 
 Jesuits in France, although the contrary opinion has been main- 
 tained, nor was there any ministerial conspiracy. The Duke de 
 Choiseul excited no enemies against them in the south of Europe ; 
 he instigated no plot, and still less is he chargeable with having 
 masked any conspiracy under a feigned name. Neither the 
 statesmen nor the men of letters in France merited the honour or 
 the reproach of having proscribed Jesuitism. The philosophy 
 then in vogue had likewise but a very indirect share in this 
 event, which in fact was beyond the reach of its influence. 
 Those who first attacked the Jesuits were not adepts of the 
 
CHAP. I.] IN PORTUGAL. 3 
 
 French school of philosophy, but strangers even to its tenets. 
 The causes which struck at Jesuitism, and occasioned its 
 overthrow, in all the plenitude of undisputed power, were 
 wholly local, and of a private and personal nature : wliilst, to 
 crown the general astonisliment, the vast and powerful body, 
 whose arms extended (as has been often said) to regions till 
 lately unexplored — this universal colony of Rome, an object of 
 dread to all, and feared even in the very seat of its power — 
 received its first blow, not from any great potentate, nor upon 
 any of the principal theatres of Europe, but in one of its ex- 
 treme corners, and in one of the weakest and most isolated of its 
 kingdoms. 
 
 This blow was struck in Portugal, an event which would 
 indeed excite our surprise, if we considered only the power which 
 the Order possessed in that country, ruling both monarch and 
 people, the throne and the altar ; but if we regard the excess 
 and abuse of that power which itself tended to endanger its 
 durability, and recall the circumstances which, fortuitously or 
 not, are connected with the introduction of the Jesuits into 
 the Court of Lisbon, our surprise will lessen, and we may find 
 cause to reverse our opinion. They had undoubtedly rendered 
 some partial services to Portugal, and added new and profitable 
 subjects to the realm ; in China and in the Indies tliey had 
 extended the renown of the Portusfuese name bv their mis- 
 sionary labours, crowned, as they were, by martyrdom. But at 
 the same time it must be remembered that the establishment 
 of this society coincides witli the decline of the Portuguese 
 monarchy. Unhappily for Portugal, the Jesuits entered the 
 countn,' at the very time that a foreign influence was introduced, 
 and the decay of tlie monarchy was rapid and even instantaneous. 
 Though opposed to the testimony of almost all historians, we 
 are disinclined to attribute this circumstance to the Jesuits ; we 
 remark only that it was unfortunate for them to have been tlie 
 active witnesses of the event. Eight or wrong, responsibility 
 attaches to those who exercise power ; and it cannot be denied 
 that in Portugal the Jesuits exercised sovereign power unin- 
 terruptedly for tv/o centuries — from 1540 to 1750. 
 
 From the fourteenth to the sixteenth century Portugal pre- 
 sents the phenomenon of a weak but active pojiulation, which., 
 
 B 2 
 
4 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS [chap, i 
 
 actuated by courage, the spirit of adventure, — by a mixture of 
 chivalrous excitement with commercial calculation, a kind of 
 compromise between the past and the future, the middle ages and 
 modern times, — rose suddenly to wealth, renown, and power ; 
 and then fell at once, from the very same causes which had led 
 to its rapid elevation. It was at this period that the Jesuits 
 appeared at Lisbon. In 1540 they were presented to John III., 
 and from that moment the face of affairs changed. Scarcely 
 had they obtained a footing, when they exchanged submission for 
 control. Even the Inquisition, which regarded their reception 
 with jealousy, and offered a partial but vain resistance, finally 
 gave way and adopted them. They demanded the free exercise 
 of instruction, and the university of Coimbra yielded, — partially 
 at first, but at the end of seven years the Jesuits expelled the for- 
 mer possessors from their institutions. The superstitious youth 
 of Don Sebastian, and the ascendancy of the cardinal, signalized 
 both the decline of the Portuguese monarchy and the triumph 
 of the Jesuits. The Spaniards were at first received with open 
 arms ; their subsequent expulsion afflicted the Order, but it soon 
 extended its sway over the new dynasty. The Jesuits governed 
 in the name of the two queens, the widow of John IV. and the 
 wife of Alphonso VI., who had married her brother-in-law 
 during the life-time of her first husband, whom she dethroned 
 and chained upon a rock. Under John V. their power reached 
 its climax ; they in fact ruled the nation, and Portugal fell ex- 
 hausted into the protecting power of England, never again to 
 recover her position. 
 
 The New World opened to the Jesuits a more glorious career. 
 Notwithstanding the objections which may be urged against their 
 settlement in Paraguay, it must be acknowledged that they 
 afforded in that country the noble example of a handful of un- 
 armed men, introducing religious faith and civilization amongst a 
 savage population. This spectacle created universal astonishment, 
 and the Jesuits cannot complain that the singular beauty of their 
 offices and ministration was either misunderstood or unappre- 
 ciated. Even the schools of philosophers have attested their 
 merits, and in terms which their own writers have cited con- 
 tinually. We are not blind to the elements of pure absolutism, 
 not to say of tyranny, which were fostered in their government ; 
 
CHAP. I.] IN PORTUGAL. 5 
 
 it is true that the conditions of happiness were restricted to a 
 continuance in a state of infancy ; but we may profit by the ex- 
 perience of the past, by the revolutions which have taken place 
 in those distant countries, and by having witnessed the atrocious 
 dictatorship of that fantastic pretender who succeeded the Jesuit 
 fathers in Paraguay ; and, looking back to the historj^ of tliis 
 period, we cannot but applaud a government which, with all the 
 means of exercising a despotic and cruel sway, was content to 
 rule with the olive branch of peace, although with arbitrary 
 power. Nevertlieless the position of the Jesuits in America was 
 certainly anomalous. Although apparently attached to the two 
 monarchies of the Peninsula, tliey in fact exercised an indepen- 
 dent power ; and for this reason their fall was inevitable as soon 
 as either of these courts asserted its risrhts. It was clear tliat 
 this must be the case sooner or later, and the event at lengrth 
 took place. In the year 1753, a treaty between the kings of 
 Spain and Portugal effected a mutual exchange of provinces ; 
 a stipulation was made that the inhabitants of the respective dis- 
 tricts should quit the territories ceded, and change their country 
 in order to remain under their former sovereis^n. These un- 
 happy people resisted this arrangement, and the Jesuits seconded 
 their resistance. They have since obstinately denied the part 
 which they took ; but when vre compare the peaceable and docile 
 character of this people with the zealous activity of its real mas- 
 ters, it is impossible to doubt the use to which the Jesuits turned 
 their power. Moreover, the Jesuits are wrong to apply to this 
 fact the system of denial which their writers so constantly 
 employ. A greater frankness and highmindedness Mould lead 
 them to avow their opposition to so oppressive a measure, and 
 they would rather make a merit of having generously opposed the 
 violent transference of a people from one state to another. The 
 system of apology which they have adopted has uniformly led 
 them to deny even,'thing — even courageous and honourable acts — 
 to serve a temporary purpose. We would render them more 
 justice upon this point than they themselves are willing to accept; 
 but w^e may ask, what government in Europe, having taken 
 such a resolution as that adopted by the courts of Spain and 
 Portugal, right or wrong, would allow any corporate or asso- 
 ciated body to resist it? After such an example, it is not 
 
THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. i. 
 
 difficult to discover motives for the hostility of the secular power 
 against a religious order which had rashly cast the whole weicrht 
 of its name and influence into the balance of an international 
 treaty. At the present day such an explanation is easily com- 
 prehended, but previous to the French Revolution, and espe- 
 cially in the South of Europe, it was less easy to take any de- 
 cided and vigorous measures against an enemy sheltered under 
 the banner of religion. 
 
 The situation of affairs at tliis crisis required to be compre- 
 hended by a cool and clear judgement, and regulated with a firm 
 hand. These qualities were united in the person of Sebastian 
 Carvalho, afterwards Count d'Oeyras, and finally Marquis de 
 Pombal. We shall call him in the sequel only by this last 
 name, as his other titles are lost to history. The odium which 
 still attaches to the name of Pombal, no less than the honours 
 which were once paid him, the opposite feelings which his memory 
 still excites in his own country, are sufficient evidence that he 
 was a man of no common intellect and character. Neverthe- 
 less we cannot give implicit credence either to his enemies or to 
 his apologists. His cruelty, jealousy, and avarice cast a deep 
 sliade over his courage, patience, and his indefatigable energy. 
 Pombal vras not a great man, but assuredly there never was a 
 greater minister in so small a state. " King Sebastian is born 
 again !" said his enemies, in allusion to his name and his power. 
 His enemies were the nobles and the Jesuits — he crushed them 
 both : we shall see in the sequel wherefore he took this daring 
 step, and how he accomplished it. 
 
 Pombal was descended from a family of the middle classes, or 
 at most from the lowest grade of the nobility ; and at an early 
 age he declared his hostility to the Portuguese aristocracy, who 
 were among the j)roudest and most exclusive in Europe. \VhiIst 
 a youth, he carried oflT a girl of the sang bleu {sangre azul), 
 and married her in the face of the nobles, who were indiirnant 
 at such an intrusion into their ranks. He was at the same time 
 bold and flexible, and vainly endeavoured to soothe the pride of 
 the Fidalgos, and reconcile them to his admission into their 
 ranks. All his efforts were fruitless, and from that time he 
 vowed to accomplish the ruin of those whom he had failed 
 to conciliate. He came to London^ where he was accredited 
 
CHAP. I.J MARQUIS DE POMBAL. 7 
 
 as charge d'aiiaires,* and here his sentiments were confirmed 
 by associating- with an aristocracy which afforded an illu!>tra- 
 tion confirmatory of his own predilections, and which v ould 
 readily have achnitted him within its ranks had he been 
 born an Englishman. The balance of power in the state, 
 and the government of a country where an authority was 
 placed beside that of the monarch, and above the power of the 
 minister, attracted his attention little. In Eno-land he envied, 
 not the liberty of the nation, but the hope, the prospect which 
 it enjoyed, — that proud and fruitful hope, which an Englishman 
 at that time could alone rely upon. Above all, he was asto- 
 nished at the substantial prosperity of Great Britain. At the 
 sight of such objects of wonder, his thoughts turned to Portugal, 
 and his mind, enlightened and intelligent, even if not wholly 
 disinterested, grasped at once high and noble views and generous 
 ideas, mingled with projects of personal ambition. Pombal, 
 upon his elevation to the ministry, followed and applied the 
 principles which he had adopted, and their origin is unquestion- 
 ably to be traced to his residence in London. There it was that 
 he formed the resolution to place himself either upon an equal 
 footing with the grandees of Portugal or to rise superior to them, 
 — to be at the same time the master of his sovereio:n and the re- 
 former of his country. 
 
 Joseph I., the successor of John Y., was the Louis XIII. of 
 Portugal. Like that monarch, he had his Richelieu, and this 
 parallel flattered the vanity of Pombal. In moments of intimate 
 intercourse he applied it to himself, and in public he compared 
 himself to Sully. Joseph I. was devoid even of that imposing ex- 
 terior and of those regal graces which invest disorder with a 
 kind of nobleness. He was indolent and melancholv, and aban- 
 doned the affairs of state to his minister : it was more to his 
 taste and pleasure to steer his royal barge on the Tagus. upon a 
 bright summer day, filled Avith women and musicians. Dis- 
 trustful and suspicious, his ear was always open to spies and 
 informers, and he lived in the continual dread of a conspiracy. 
 It was easy to govern such a prince by terror; and Pombal skil- 
 fullv emijloved those means which the chaiacter of the monarch 
 
 * Carvalho Tvas afterwards minister at Vienna, where lie entered into a 
 second marriage with the niece of Field-Marshal Daun. 
 
8 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. i. 
 
 itself suggested, lie paid assiduous court to Joseph, and whilst 
 he abstained from obsequious adulation, he made him tremble for 
 his life. Nevertheless the favour shown him by his sovereign 
 never caused him to neglect his own security ; he took no step 
 without an order under the sign manual of the king, a pre- 
 caution which at a later period saved his life. 
 
 The tendency of the European governments in the eighteenth 
 century may be reduced to this expression — reform, but reform 
 effected by arbitrary means. All the princes and statesmen of 
 any note proceeded in this course and followed this object ; but 
 more or less hypocrisy accompanied their application of the 
 system ; and whilst they had recourse to the employment of ab- 
 solute power, they assumed an air of deference to the philo- 
 sophy of the age. Pombal was not a man of letters, and had 
 no correspondence with the Encyclopedists of France,* but he 
 furthered their objects without consulting them. Surpassing 
 them in activity and candour, he neither disavowed nor excused 
 anything : he did not even affect to pronounce the word liberty, 
 but proclaimed civilization as the legitimate offspring of des- 
 potism. There was no secrecy or reserve in his conduct, no 
 explanation or apology ; his spirit, contracted and obstinate as it 
 was, refused all compromise : he pushed absolutism to its utmost 
 limits, and demanded all that it could yield him. The general 
 destinies of mankind did not affect this practical sceptic ; his 
 intellect extended neither far nor high enough ; but the very 
 plague-spots- which affected Portugal in particular excited his 
 lively attention. 
 
 A multitude of edicts, issued in quick succession, soon roused 
 the Portuguese from their lethargy. Perhaps we cannot cor- 
 rectly estimate these acts ; praise and censure may be applied to 
 them in turn ; but although they are not all based on the prin- 
 ciples of a sound policy, yet Pombal cannot be blamed for not 
 being in advance of the political science of his time ; nor is it 
 just to attribute in all cases the errors of his age, or of his 
 natural turn of mind, to calculations of mere interest and cupi- 
 dity. He was certainly not free from these faults ; but his 
 whole character, viewed at a sufficient distance to efface the 
 
 * The immeuse con-espondence of Voltaire does not contain a single letter 
 addressed to the Count d'Oeyras (the Marquis de Pombal). 
 
CHAP. I.J MARQUIS DE POMBAL. 9 
 
 prejudices of his time, is certainly stamped with an imposing 
 although brutal grandeur, which burst forth on a memorable 
 occasion. The earthquake in 1755 had overthrown three-fourths 
 of Lisbon. The court in their terror had not time to fly ; the 
 people perished in the flames and ruins, or by tiie knife of the 
 assassin. The courtiers wanted to conduct tlie royal family to 
 Oporto. Pombal alone refused to let them go. '*' The king's 
 place is in the midst of his people," said he to Joseph : " let us 
 bur}- the dead and take thought for the living." Under such 
 circumstances, ambition has no attraction for ordinary minds, and 
 power devolves exclusively upon the energetic. Pombal seized 
 upon the helm of the state as of right, and declared himself 
 prime minister. At that time various calamities seemed to 
 threaten unhappy Portugal : unaided and alone, the minister 
 undertook to allay and subdue them. There was something 
 of antique greatness in the courage which Pombal displayed 
 that excited a general astonishment. The colonies supplied 
 the metropolis with food without foreign aid ; brigands were 
 visited with terrible punishments, and three hundred gibbets 
 were brought into requisition for the armed robbers Mho in- 
 fested the ruins of Lisbon in open day. But notwithstanding 
 calamities of every description, and in the midst of the anxieties 
 arising from two political actions at law^, Pombal retained his 
 judgment and his courage. On the ruins of the ancient capital 
 he raised a new city ; and with justice, if not with modesty, 
 on erecting the statue of Joseph, Pombal placed his own image 
 on the pedestal.* 
 
 Pombal had now attained a position in which his credit was 
 unlimited, and his thoughts were from this time fixed upon the 
 execution of the two great projects he had conceived, — the sub- 
 jection of the aristocracy and the expulsion of the Jesuits. The 
 first was a bold measure, but Ximenes in Spain and Richelieu 
 in l^'rance had set an example to the Portuguese minister ; 
 the second was without precedent. Pombal was moreover 
 resolved to attempt these two measures in a direct and open 
 manner. 
 
 Whatever view we take of the resolution to destroy the 
 
 * The medallion of the Marquis de Pombal was removed by Dcu Miguel 
 and replaced by order of Don Pedro. 
 
10 THE FALL OF TKE JESUITS. [chap. i. 
 
 Jesuits — whether friendly or inimical — it must be admitted in 
 this instance that the Marquis de Fombal acted as a statesman, 
 and not in the spirit of an irritated or vindictive courtier. If, 
 with a view to attain this object, he pursued too frequently a 
 crooked line of conduct, he v/as at least actuated by considera- 
 tions of an elevated policy, and not, as is still asserted, by mere 
 cold suggestions of egoism. He aimed the blow at the Jesuits as 
 a body dangerous to the public welfare, and not as dangerous to 
 his own credit. The Jesuits were not his enemies ; on the con- 
 trary, it was they who had raised him to power. They reckoned 
 upon him ; and, with deep dissimulation, Pombal kept up their 
 confidence in him until the very moment when he avowed him- 
 self their enemy. To the astonishment of the Order and of the 
 whole of Portugal, the Jesuit confessors of the king and the 
 royal family were banished from the palace, and replaced by 
 rcirular confessors. At the same time the manifestos of the 
 Marquis de Pombal brought against the Order terrible accusa- 
 tions, which we shall soon examine dispassionately. The mi- 
 nister communicated these complaints to the pope, demanding 
 the immediate support of the apostolical see. Benedict XIY. 
 had never been friendly to the Jesuits, whom he knew thoroughly ; 
 he had predicted their fall ; but it was the policy of this wise 
 and spiritual pontiff to evade a decisive answer, and he had 
 only time to issue an order that the establishments of the Order 
 should be visited by the patriarch of Lisbon, when he died, 
 without having pronounced a decision between the Society of 
 Jesus and the crown of Portugal. 
 
 Two powerful families, the Mascarenhas and the Tavoras, 
 were at this time at the head of the Portuguese aristocracy. 
 Pombal had not taken any step against these families ; he ob- 
 tained an introduction through his wife to the societj'' of Donna 
 Eleonora, the wife of the Marquis de Tavora, former governor of 
 India, who was in every respect a woman of the highest preten- 
 sions in Portugal. She was a person of respectable morals, but of 
 a haughty temper, and in her eyes might be remarked a fatal 
 glance, the presage of her destiny.* Pombal had ventured to 
 solicit for his son an alliance with this noble and proud flimily. 
 
 * This look, whicli struck me in the portrait of Donna da Tavora, is 
 equally observable iu that of Straiford. 
 
CRVP. I.] CONSPIRACY OF THE FTDALGOS. 1 1 
 
 "Alas!" said he one day to a priest of the Tavora fainilv, 
 " the king may heap favours upon me, but my happiness will 
 be incomplete unless the heir of my fortune become the son-in- 
 law of the illustrious Donna Eleonora." " Your Excellency," 
 replied the monk, "raises his eyes high indeed." A coolness 
 now suddenly arose between the minister and the marchioness ; 
 she had solicited the title of duke for her husband, and Pombal 
 defeated her pretensions. There is but one step from indifference 
 to hatred, and finally the whole of the scmg bleu took part in 
 this quarrel. Joseph de Mascarenhas, Duke d'Aveiro, treated 
 the minister with the utmost scorn. D'Aveiro, an arrogant and 
 insolent man, was invested with the highest offices, and allied to 
 the royal family. From this moment Pombal meditated a deep 
 and deadly revenge. These court nobles, whose resentment was 
 fostered by the Jesuits, menaced the power and even the life of 
 the minister ; when on a sudden, in the night of the 3rd of 
 September, 1758, the gates of the palace were closed ; the king 
 did not make his appearance for several days ; no report was 
 circulated respecting the causes of this measure, and Pombal 
 endeavoured, by every means, to inspire with a feeling of security 
 those whom he had marked as his victims. At length, after a 
 long suspense, the Duke d'Aveiro and the family of Tavora, 
 together with their friends, were arrested in their own dwellings. 
 The haughty Donna Eleonora, taken from her bed, was dragged 
 half naked to a convent, and the rest of her family were shut up 
 in the menagerie of Belera, which had remained empty since the 
 earthquake. 
 
 What could have happened in this interval to give cause 
 for these acts of violence ? AVhat crime did the minister 
 impute to all these nobles? The facts of the case Mere as 
 follows : — Donna Teresa, the wife of the young Marquis de 
 Tavora, was the king's mistress. On going to visit her one 
 night, Joseph had been fired at by two pistol-shots : he was 
 wounded in the arm, and had remained within his palace, 
 waiting the arrest of the accused parties. These were the 
 Duke d'Aveiro and the husband of the king's mistress, who 
 were regarded as the instruments of the crime ; tlie old Ta- 
 voras, who were accused as accomplices ; and the Jesuits, who 
 were re2;arded as the instigators. Of all the members of the 
 
12 • THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. i. 
 
 accused family, Donna Teresa was the only one treated with 
 indulgence, although it has never been shown whether the dis- 
 covery of the conspiracy was not her act. Louis XV. manifested 
 to his charge d'affaires the greatest curiosity regarding the fate 
 of this young woman.* 
 
 Pombal never intended to summon the nobles before a tri- 
 bunal of their peers ; perhaps the state of the nobility at that 
 time rendered the maintenance of this privilege impossible; 
 nor did the minister bring them before the ordinary courts : 
 the accused parties were summoned before an exceptional tri- 
 bunal, called a tribunal of Incoirfidenza, that is to say, before 
 a commission. The execution of the sentence follovred closely 
 upon its announcement. In the night of the 12th of January, 
 1759, a scaffold, eighteen feet high, was erected on the square 
 of Belem, fronting the Tagus. At daybreak this open space 
 was filled with soldiers and the populace, and even the river 
 was covered with spectators. The servants of the Duke d'Aveiro 
 appeared first upon the platform, and were fastened to one of tlie 
 corners, to be burned alive. The Marchioness of Tavora at 
 length ascended the scaffold, with a rope around her neck and 
 a crucifix in her hand. She was scantily clad in some tattered 
 clothes, but her whole figure and demeanour were stamped with 
 firmness and dignity. The executioner, in attempting to bind 
 her feet, accidentally raised the hem of her robe. '• Stop !" 
 cried she, '■ forget not who I am ; touch me only to kill me !" 
 The executioner fell on his knees before Donna Eleonora, and 
 begged her to pardon him ; whereupon she drew a ring from 
 her finger, and said, " Here, I have nothing but this in the 
 world ; take it, and do your duty." This courageous woman 
 then laid her head upon the block, and received her death-blow. 
 Her husband, her sons, the youngest of whom was not twenty 
 years of age, her son-in-law, and several servants, perished after her 
 in frightful torments. The Duke d'Aveiro was led forward the 
 last ; he was fastened to the wheel, his body covered with rags, 
 and his arms and thighs naked. Thus was he broken alive, not 
 expiring until after he had endured protracted tortures, making 
 the square and the neighbourhood re-echo with frightful cries. 
 
 * Despatches of the Duke de Choiseul to ]NL de Saint Julien, Charge 
 d' Affaires of France at Lisbo*! 
 
CHAP. I.J ARRESTS OF THE JESUITS. 13 
 
 At length the machine was set on fire ; and presently wlieel, 
 scaffold, bodies, all were burned, and cast into the Tagus. 
 
 The palaces of the condemned parties were razed to the 
 ground, and salt was sprinkled on the spot where they had 
 stood ; their heraldic insignia were effaced from all places, 
 both private and public, especially from the hall of the knights 
 in the castle of Cintra, where their escutcheon is still seen 
 covered with a black veil, like the portrait of Faliero in the 
 ducal palace at Venice. Pombal at last erected a pillory in one 
 of the squares of Lisbon, which, by special privilege, he reservetl 
 for the highest nobles. At a later period of his ministerial 
 career he compelled one of the Tavora family, the grand- 
 daughter of Donna Eleonora, to marry his son, the Count 
 d'Oeyras. A numerous family sprung from this tragical union, 
 and the blood of the persecutor and his victims now runs peace- 
 fully in the same veins. 
 
 The complaints of Pombal against the Fidalgos, notwitli- 
 standing his hatred and the injuries which he had sustained, 
 had only been a means to a higher end. His animosity was 
 even greater against the Jesuits than the aristocracy, but they 
 were less accessible. Their intercourse with the conspirators 
 was unquestionable : they had been their friends and advisers, 
 and had taken a decided part in the discontents, murmurs, and 
 open opposition of the Fidalgos ; but it was difficult to con- 
 vict them of a participation in the regicidal plots. Pombal 
 however did not hesitate to accuse them ; the very day on 
 which the arrest of the Tavora family took place, the houses of 
 the Jesuits were invested by troops, their chiefs were cast into 
 prison, and a formal accusation of having fomented the conspi- 
 racy v/as brought against three of their body, Mattos, Alexander, 
 and Malagrida. 
 
 Pombal spread his manifestos throughout Europe, and tliey 
 were read with avidity. The catastrophe, and especially tlie 
 event which had led to it, fixed the attention of all cabinets. 
 This regicidal attempt followed immediately that of Damiens, 
 and a secret though vague presentiment was felt by all the 
 sovereigns that a storm was at hand. It was to be expected 
 that the general feeling in France would be disposed to welcome 
 the accusations of the Portuguese minister, and that tlie Ency- 
 
14 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap, i 
 
 clopedists would have been his zealous and faithful allies. This, 
 however, was not the case. The manifestos issued by the Court 
 of Lisbon appeared ridiculous in form and fundamentally ill- 
 considered. Such a holocaust of the heads of the nobility 
 shocked the higher classes, who until that time had been sedu- 
 lously courted by the philosophical school ; a cruelty so wanton 
 formed too strong a contrast to the morals and manners of a 
 Society which, although verging on its decline, still preserved 
 considerable outward elegance : general pity for the victims 
 was also excited. Pombal's conduct met with derision, and 
 every one laughed at his appeal to the ideas of the middle 
 ages, — a period of history which the fashion of that day re- 
 proved as forcibly as the fashion of the present time favours, — 
 whilst the despotic maxims with which his manifestos abounded 
 were strongly reprobated.* But what most of all stirred up 
 the hostility of the French philosophers was Pombal's de- 
 clining to accept their patronage, or to avow himself a pupil 
 of their school. In persecuting the Society of the Jesuits, he did 
 not bring any charge against the institution, nor did he accuse 
 the members of professing bad or immoral principles ; his ground 
 of complaint was that they had remained less faithful than their 
 predecessors to the principles of St. Ignatius ; indeed, he even 
 made a boast himself of belonging to the third order of Jesus, 
 and of scrupulously observing its practices. "j" Pombal's acts 
 might be such as to lead to a rupture with Rome, and he might 
 have expelled the Jesuits, but it was not in the name of philo- 
 sophy. The accusations which he brought against them did not 
 rest upon general grounds, but upon particular facts, questionable 
 and ill-stated. Pombal, as we have said, derived no support 
 from the cliief men among the French pnilosophers, but he 
 moreover appeared carefully to disclaim any connection witli 
 them ; he did not even venture to rise to the liberties of the 
 Galilean church, an act of couranre which was then verv easv, 
 but which he either did not possess, or disdained. The philo- 
 sophers never pardoned these instances of neglect ; and still less 
 the fact that Pombal had appealed to the decision of the Pope 
 
 * Correspondence of the Duke de Choiseul. 
 
 t State Papers and Manuscripts of the Marquis de Pombal : Library ot 
 M. S. Vicomte D'A., at Lisbon. 
 
CHAP. I.] EXPULSION FROM PORTUGAL. I.^ 
 
 against Malagrida and his companions. A'oltaire attacked 
 him for this more tiian once, in the iSiecle de Louis XV. and 
 elsewliere.* 
 
 Rezzonico reigned at that time as pontiff under the name of 
 Clement XIII., having recently succeeded the amiable and pru- 
 dent Benedict XIV. Pombal had consulted the pope, and the 
 answer was delayed : Clement, indeed, who was devoted to the 
 Jesuits, overlooked the fact that tiie King of Portugal had in this 
 act shown the greatest deference to the ancient privileges of the 
 Holy See. In Portugal, the tribunal of the Xuncio had up to 
 that time retained the right of pronouncing judgment upon 
 members of the church, Pombal, who had resolved to transfer 
 this power to a commission named by himself, did not tiiink 
 fit to dispense with soliciting a nominal authorization from the 
 Court of Pome. The latter had viewed the demand in a 
 serious light, and postponed the issue of the instrument ; but 
 the impatient minister did not await a reply, and the pope's 
 letter crossed on the road a decree issued bv Pombal for the 
 expulsion of the Order. All the bishops of Portugal received a 
 command from the government to remove the instruction of 
 youth from the hands of the Jesuits, and to supersede them im- 
 mediately in the university of Coimbra and elsewhere. In a 
 few days the vessels both of the royal and merchant navy were 
 filled with these priests, who were transported to the coast of 
 Italy ; whilst the same orders were despatched to Brazil and to all 
 the Portuguese colonies, and were immediately put in execution. 
 As soon as the news of this measure reached Eome, the pope 
 ordered Pombal's manifesto to be burnt in a public square, — an 
 act which the Portuguese minister retaliated by confiscating the 
 property of the Society and declaring it forfeited to the crown. f 
 But not satisfied with this measure, Pombal took advantage of 
 an imprudent act of the Xuncio. and sent him his passports, at the 
 
 * Siecle de Louis XV., vol. xxix. p. 38. Edit. Delangle. — Sermon du 
 Eahhin Akib, vol. xliii. p. 234. 
 
 f The author can guarantee the accuracy of the folIo^Ting anecdote. In 
 the hurry of departure, the Jt suits of Lisbon intrusted thtir treasures to one 
 of their ser^-acts, who preserved and afterwards restored them to his niastci-s 
 so faithfulhy, that in return for his honesty they gave him a hirge fortune. 
 A descendant of this man distinguished Iiimself greatly as a politician in the 
 last changes in Portugal. 
 
16 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. i. 
 
 same time, with an affectation of parade, recalling the Portu- 
 guese ambassador accredited at the Court of Rome. 
 
 Although the French philosophers of the eighteenth century- 
 were little friendly at first to the administration of Pombal, it 
 might have been expected that his excessive zeal would have 
 won their attachment : they had witnessed the humiliation of 
 Rome, a Nuncio expelled, and the Jesuits abolished, — what 
 more could they desire ? Surely it might have been anticipated 
 that in all those countries where the new spirit prevailed, — in 
 England, and still more in France, — a man in the situation of 
 Pombal, who was the avowed enemy of the Jesuits and the pope, 
 would have become the idol of public favour, and been extolled 
 to the skies by Voltaire, Diderot, and D'Alembert. On the 
 contrary, they all kept aloof from him, more even than before, 
 and the reason of this is easily explained : Pombal had destroyed 
 the Jesuits, but he was the protector of the Inquisition. As- 
 sured of the fidelity of the patriarch of Lisbon, and having got 
 rid of the Papal nuncio, he found in this formidable institution 
 a convenient and ready weapon, — a kind of committee of public 
 safety, — and he consequently spoke of it with enthusiasm. In 
 conversation one day with a French Charge d' Affaires, he said, 
 '' My desire is to reconcile your country to the Inquisition, and 
 to exhibit to the world the utility of that institution : it has been 
 established under the authority of his very faithful majesty only 
 to execute certain episcopal functions, which are surely more 
 safely intrusted to the hands of a corporation chosen by the 
 sovereign, than to an individual who may deceive others, and 
 who is himself liable to be deceived." To add the force of 
 example to such maxims of policy, Pombal deemed it opportune 
 to apply them to tlie Jesuits : he removed Malagrida from pri- 
 son, where he was pining away forgotten, and caused him to be 
 accused of heresy by the Inquisition, who delivered him over to 
 the secular power, that is to say, to the tribunal of the Inconfi- 
 denza^ — an arbitrary commission established since the conspiracy 
 of the nobles. Malagrida was subsequently strangled and burnt 
 in a solemn auto-da-fe. Voltaire loudly censured this hypo- 
 critical cruelty ; he showed that throughout the affair, the excess 
 of the ridiculous icas rningled xcith the excess of horror, and, 
 with his penetrating sagacity when he was not troubled by pas- 
 
CHAP. I.] SUSPICIONS AGAINST POMBAL. 17 
 
 sion, he denounced the cowardice and inconsistency of condemn- 
 ing' a man for heresy who was accused of high-treason.* Pom- 
 bal's conduct thus excited only general disgust, and found no 
 sympathy, even amongst those who considered the Jesuits cul- 
 pable. This emboldened the friends of the Society, who gre\7 
 louder in their recriminations : they asserted that the conspiracy 
 was imaginary, that the minister had himself recurred to such a 
 jDretext in order to strengthen his power over a pusillanimous 
 prince, and they even went so far as to attribute to the govern- 
 ment the feigned attempt upon the king's life, which, it was 
 said, he had so narrowly escaped. We are not astonished at this 
 party manoeuvre ; nevertheless, as at that period boldness was not 
 carried to the length of denying the peril to which a king's life 
 is exposed, no one doubted that Joseph had been wounded. To 
 suppose the contrary', we must imagine that Pombal, with a 
 rashness bordering upon madness, had exposed himself to the 
 peril of attempting the life of the king who was his only support, 
 or that the w^ound had been feigned, in w^hich case Joseph must 
 have been an accomplice, although actuated certainly by most 
 imaccountable motives. He had himself perpetuated the remem- 
 brance of that act by placing a model of his arm pierced with 
 balls, as an ex-voto offering, in one of the churches in Lisbon. 
 But the connivance of the King of Portugal cannot be seriously 
 admitted, although this" opinion prevailed among the defenders of 
 the Jesuits, and many traces of it still exist in Portugal. The 
 mysterious suspicions which Pombal's conduct only served to 
 heighten, and which attach to his memory, cannot be wholly 
 dissipated. It appears to be certain that the king's life was at- 
 tempted by some of the conspirators accused, but whether they 
 Tvere all implicated in the plot admits of doubt. We may how- 
 ever observe that subsequently, during the revolution in the 
 palace, the triumphant party, who excited the re-action against 
 Pombal, failed to support their accusations by any proof. There 
 are fully sufficient reasons, therefore, to believe the arrest of the 
 parties accused to have been a legal act, although the means em- 
 ployed to obtain their conviction cannot be approved. Above 
 all, the choice of these means was especially reprehensible : if 
 Pombal was just, cruelty certainly tarnished his glor)\ 
 
 * Steele de Louis XV., Yol. xxv. p. 433. 
 
 C 
 
18 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. i. 
 
 In the publications which were at this period issued in pro- 
 digious numbers by the Jesuits or their defenders, the name of 
 the Duke de Choiseul is constantly associated with that of the 
 Marquis de Pombal, and they are represented as allied from the 
 first in the attempt to overthrow the Jesuits. The assertions of 
 the Abbe Georgel, and a host of other pamphleteers, that 
 Choiseul had always entertained a hatred for the Jesuits, were 
 repeated on all sides : he was represented as the instigator of 
 their fall ; and this fundamental error has been from that time to 
 the present attempted to be supported by statements of very ques- 
 tionable authority. The Jesuits themselves assisted in circulating 
 these tales. Assuming that a connection existed between the two 
 ministers, they represented them as accomplices in the destruction 
 of the Order, and Pombal and Choiseul were said to have con- 
 certed the part which each was to act : the former was to com- 
 mence the campaign, and the second to come to his aid. Nothing 
 is more false than such a supposition ; and we assert this after 
 having inspected the diplomatic correspondence, and the most 
 familiar letters of the Duke de Choiseul. In a secret memorial, 
 addressed to Louis XV. himself, the duke reminds the king that he 
 had not been the one to commence this great measure : " Your 
 Majesty," said he, " knows well that, although it has been said 
 that I have laboured at the expulsion of the Jesuits .... I have 
 in no way, either at a distance or on the spot, either in public 
 or in private, taken any step with this intent."* These two 
 statesmen were not at all in concert ; there existed no under- 
 standing between them, nor could they have entertained any 
 such projects in common. There was moreover nothing akin 
 to the dull-minded and vindictive Portuguese, in the brilliant, 
 frivolous, and courteous minister of Louis XV. Choiseul 
 never even applauded the proceedings of Pombal, but spoke 
 of them only in terms of coldness, and frequently of contempt. 
 Pombal's bluntness appeared to him gross and vulgar, his 
 pomposity misplaced, and his audacity impertinent. He often 
 laughed at him with the Prince de Kaunitz : " Ce monsieur," 
 they would say, " a done toujours un jesuite a cheval sur le nez." 
 In his character as a minister, a favourite, and still more as a 
 noble, the duke disdained any comparison with the upstart 
 * State Papers and Manuscripts of the Duke de Choiseul. 
 
CHAP. I.] ENGLAND DISAPPROVED THEIR EXPULSION. 19 
 
 marquis : indeed everything in tiie character of Pombal excited a 
 repulsive feeling in Choiseul, who regarded him as unjust, cruel, 
 and, what in his eyes was worse, a man of bad taste. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this, the two statesmen were associated in 
 purpose for a time. Choiseul had determined upon the family 
 compact ; and he hoped to engage Portugal in this project, from 
 the Capet origin of the House of Braganza. Moreover, a common 
 feeling of hatred united them : France was at that time at war 
 with England, against whom the Marquis de Pombal secretly 
 entertained a bitter enmity. His conduct toward England had 
 been perfectly whimsical. One or two diplomatic manifestos, of 
 a very bold nature, gained for him the reputation of a patriot, and 
 of being the enemy of England. The party which participates in 
 the ideas of this minister (and that party exists to the present 
 day in Portugal) boasts of his independence, which was but 
 nominal : although Pombal vaunted his opposition to Eng- 
 land, he was always in reality subject to that po^^■er. Whilst 
 he ostentatiously proclaimed the liberty of Portugal, he raised 
 to revolt the city of Oporto, for the establishment of the Com- 
 pany which gave to the English the monopoly in wine. In 
 the same manner the political circles in Lisbon regarded these 
 rodomontades of the Marquis as concerted with the Cabinet 
 of London to serve as a veil to acts of submissive courtesy.* 
 Nevertheless there existed a real antipathy between England 
 and Portugal; the English (who would believe it?) had re- 
 garded the expulsion of the Jesuits with disapprobation : her 
 commerce, which had been intimately connected with the interests 
 of the Order, had suffered from their suppression. Troubles 
 arose in the PortugTiese foreign possessions, which Pombal, in 
 official documents, whose authenticity we can attest, attributed 
 to the influence of Great Britain. t 
 
 * The Marquis de Pombal, who was in connection "with the "Whigs, and 
 particularly with Mr. Pitt (Lord Chatham), found much less sympathy in 
 the Tory party, who were represented in the ministry, shortly after the 
 accession of George III., by Lord Bute. 
 
 t A trace of this singular imputation is cootained in the letters of Madame 
 du Deffand. Lady Rochford, the wife of the English ambassador, was 
 thought to have intrigued with the Jesuits and with the Duke de Lavan- 
 guyon, their protector.— (Letter of February 13, 1769.) We have found 
 accusations of a like kind in the imperial archives of Eio Janeiro, in the 
 correspondence of Pombal with the viceroys of Brazil. 
 
 c2 
 
20 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. i. 
 
 The union between the cabinets of Versailles and Lisbon 
 could not be of long duration. In the relations of Portugal 
 with England, submission is the inevitable result of remon- 
 strance. Ciioiseul used every means to induce Portugal to favour 
 the family pact, but in this he failed. The ambassadors of Spain 
 and France simultaneously presented notes from their respective 
 courts, urging the King of Portugal to declare in their favour, 
 and to close his ports to England, threatening hostilities in 
 case of his refusal : to this demand they required a reply with 
 the least possible delay. The tone of their demand showed that 
 they expected refusal rather than concession. Pombal answered 
 with nobleness and moderation, claiming the right of Portugal 
 to remain neutral. Whilst he was engaged in arguing against 
 the proposed measure, the Spanish troops crossed the frontier, 
 declaring that they came not to attack the Portuguese, but to 
 deliver them from the British yoke. At this news Pombal ex- 
 hibited one of those traits of courage which are the more praise- 
 worthy in a statesman, because they prove that the calculations 
 of the head do not always supersede the dictates of the heart. 
 Unprepared and unprovided with any means of defence, taken 
 thus completely unawares, Pombal did not await the manifesto 
 of Spain, but was the first to declare war. Although a differ- 
 ence, more apparent than real, existed between the two coun- 
 tries, he could rely upon the support of England, and he de- 
 manded it. Thus on the one side were ranged France and 
 Spain, and on the other Portugal and Great Britain. The 
 measures of defence were better taken than those of aggression : 
 Pombal manifested great activity, and aroused the military 
 spirit which he had himself contributed to depress. The 
 war, which was unskilfully commenced by the Gallo-Spanish 
 army, lasted but a short time ; and Portugal, which for some 
 years had attracted the attention of Europe, now relapsed into 
 her wonted obscurity : the public attention was diverted to an- 
 other quarter.* 
 
 * Manuscript of Fr. Em. Comte de Saint Priest, ambassador and minister 
 under Louis XV. and Louis XVL 
 
CHAP. II.] MADAME DE POMPADOUE. 21 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 The Jesuits and Madame de Pompadour — Trial of Father Lavalette — Louis 
 XV. expels the Jesuits from France — Charles III. drives them from the 
 Spanish Monarchy. 
 
 The news of the fall of the Jesuits in a distant country aroused 
 their enemies in every quarter. In France a general astonish- 
 ment was excited at the facility with which the Order had sub- 
 mitted to its sentence, and the absence of resistance emboldened 
 the hostility against them. Up to that time the reputation for 
 sagacity and tact which the Jesuit fathers boasted had been their 
 most powerful protection in France ; no one had ventured to 
 attack them ; but when they were seen to surrender their power 
 without a struggle, — when the rupture of a small court with the 
 Holy See on their account was declared ostentatiously without 
 leading to any disturbance, without even causing any great 
 sensation, the probability of success (as is often the case in 
 human affairs) doubled the number of their adversaries. These 
 only awaited an opportunity to act, and this soon arrived. 
 The ruin of the Jesuits in France became inevitable : a court 
 intrigue prepared the way, and an act of public scandal accom- 
 plished it. 
 
 It is true that, after vainly attempting to negotiate with the 
 Jesuits, Madame de Pompadour, in consequence of this failure, 
 resolved upon their destruction. The testimony of the favourite 
 on this point is so valuable, and conveyed in such singular terms, 
 — it gives such a picture of the times in which it was penned — tliat 
 a simple transcript of it is far better than any comment. The 
 following are the instructions given by herself to a secret agent 
 who was despatched to Rome. 
 
 "In the commencement of 1752, being resolved (by motives 
 which it is useless to relate) to retain only sentiments of grati- 
 tude and the purest attachment for the king, I declared this to 
 his majesty, and begged him to consult the doctors of the Sor- 
 
22 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. ii. 
 
 bonne, and to write to his confessor, with a view to consult 
 others, and to find means to allow me to remain near him (as he 
 desired it) without being exposed to the suspicion of a w^eakness 
 which I no longer entertained. The king, knowing my cha- 
 racter, felt that he could hope for no return on my part, and 
 yielded to my request. The doctors w^ere consulted, and 
 wTote to Father Perusseau, who required him to consent to a 
 total separation. The king replied that he w^as not at all 
 disposed to agree to this, and that it was not on his own account 
 he desired an arran2:ement w^hich should remove all cause for 
 public suspicion, but for my satisfaction ; that I was neces- 
 sary to the happiness of his life, and to the interests of his king- 
 dom ; that I w^as the only person wdio dared to speak to him the 
 truth, so useful to kings, &c. The good father still hoped 
 that he should make himself master of the king's mind, and 
 persisted in repeating the same arguments. The replies given 
 by the doctors would have rendered an arrangement possible if 
 the Jesuits had consented. At this time I spoke wdth some 
 persons who were anxious for the interests of the king and of 
 relio-ion. I assured them that unless Father Perusseau bound 
 the king by the sacraments, he would give himself up to a course 
 of life which every one would regret. I did not persuade, and 
 in a short time it was seen that I had not been deceived. Things 
 remained therefore, in appearance, as in the past, until 1755. 
 At length, long reflection upon the unhappiness which had fol- 
 low^ed me, even in the possession of the greatest fortune — the 
 feeling of certainty that I should never find happiness in worldly 
 fortune, since I had enjoyed every kind and yet had never at- 
 tained happiness — the effect this had produced in weaning my 
 mind from the greatest sources of my former amusements, — all 
 led me to the conviction that the only happiness was in com- 
 munion with God. I consulted Father de Sacy as a man most 
 imbued with this truth : I disclosed to him my soul, unmasked, 
 and he was my secret adviser from the month of September until 
 the end of January, 1756. He proposed to me during this time to 
 write a letter to my husband, the rough copy of which I have 
 preserved, in his own hand-writing. My husband refused ever to 
 see me. Father de Sacy made me request a place near the queen, 
 for o-reater decorum ; he desired the staircase to be altered which 
 
CHAP. II.] MADAME DE POMPADOUE. 23 
 
 led to my apartment, and tlie king never entered it again ex- 
 cept in the company of others. Father de Sacy prescribed to me 
 a rule of conduct which I strictly observed. This change made 
 a great noise in the court and city ; intriguers of every descrip- 
 tion took part in it ; Father de Sacy was surrounded by them, 
 and told me that he should refuse me the sacraments as lonsr 
 as I remained at the court. I represented to him all the 
 engagements into which he had caused me to enter, the change 
 vhich the intrigues had effected in his own views, &c. He con- 
 cluded by saying, that ' the confessor of the late king had been 
 too much ridiculed when the Count de Toulouse came into the 
 world, and he had no desire that the same should happen to 
 him/ I had no answer to make to this argument, and, after 
 exhausting all that my desire to fulfil my duty could suggest 
 most proper to persuade him to listen to religion, and not 
 to intrigue, I saw him no more. The abominable fifth of 
 January arrived, and was followed by the same intrigues as the 
 previous year. The king did all he could to bring Father Des- 
 marets to the truth of religion ; but as the same motives actuated 
 him, his answer was the same ; and the king, who had desired 
 anxiously to fulfil his duties as a Christian, was debarred from 
 this satisfaction, and soon afterwards relapsed into the same 
 errors, from which he would certainly have been diverted if 
 good faith had been acted upon. 
 
 " Notwithstanding the extreme patience which I had observed 
 with Father de Sacy during eighteen months, my heart was not 
 the less afflicted by my situation. I spoke of this to an honour- 
 able man, in whom I had confidence ; he was touched by wliat 
 I told him, and sought means to extricate me. An abbe, one of 
 his friends, whose knowledge equalled his intelligence, stated my 
 position to one who was as well capable of judging of it as him- 
 self: they were both of opinion that my conduct did not deserve 
 the suffering which I had been made to undergo. The result 
 was that my confessor, after a new and long trial of me, put an 
 end to this injustice by admitting me to partake of the sacra- 
 ments, and, although I feel some secret pain which I must keep 
 back (to prevent any calumny to my confessor), it is nevertheless 
 a great consolation to my soul. 
 
 '' The negotiation in question does not therefore relate to myself, 
 
24 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS, [chap. ii. 
 
 but it interests me greatly for the king, to whom I am attached 
 as I ought to be. On my side there is no fear of proposing dis- 
 agreeable conditions : that of returning to my husband is out of 
 the question ; he has refused ever again to receive me, and con- 
 sequently my conscience is quite tranquil on this point ; all other 
 conditions will give me no pain. The point in question is to see 
 what will be proposed to the king ; it remains for skilful persons, 
 who are desirous of promoting the interests of his Majesty, to 
 seek the means of giving effect to their intentions. 
 
 •' The king, with a fall conviction of the truths and the duties 
 of religion, is desirous of employing all the means in his power 
 to mark his obedience to those acts which are prescribed by tie 
 church ; and his Majesty chiefly desires to remove all the oppo- 
 sition which is offered to his participation in the sacramente. 
 The king is pained at the difficulties which his confessor has 
 raised on this point, and he is persuaded that the pope, and those 
 whom his Majesty is anxious to consult at Rome, M'hen informed 
 of the facts, will remove by their advice and authority the 
 obstacles which prevent the king from fulfilling a duty which, 
 he deems important to himself and edifying to his people. 
 
 '' It is necessary to present to the pope and to the Cardinal 
 Spinelli a true statement of the facts, in order that they may 
 know and be able to remove the difficulties which have ori- 
 ginated as much in the affair itself as in the intrigues to which it 
 has given rise." 
 
 The Marchioness here chano-es her stvle without assio^ninsr any 
 cause for so doing, and speaks, like Caesar, in the third person. 
 
 " The king entertains in his heart a friendship and confidence 
 for the Marchioness de Pompadour, who constitutes the peace 
 and tranquillity of his life : these sentiments of his Majesty are 
 totally foreign to those which passion excites ; it may be affirmed 
 -with the strictest truth that, for four years and upwards, nothing 
 has passed in the intercourse of the king and Madame de Pom- 
 padour which can be taxed with passion, and consequently 
 nothing which can be deemed contrary to the severest mo- 
 rality. 
 
 " Some years ago, the position of the king and of Madame 
 de Pompadour being such as is here described, with the firm 
 resolution of both parties to maintain it in that state, the king 
 
CHAP. II.] FATHER LAVALETTE. 25 
 
 ■svrote to his confessor, who was then Father Perusseau, that lie 
 desired to partake of the sacrament : the confessor replied that 
 he could not bend his duty to the desires of the king, at least 
 unless he removed from him Madame de Pompadour, who, as he 
 stated, was an object of scandal. The king replied to the con- 
 fessor that Madame de Pompadour not being any occasion of sin 
 to him, either by her conduct or her desire, he did not wish to 
 sacrifice the happiness of his life and his confidence in her. 
 The confessor persisted, and the king did not partake of the 
 sacrament. Such is the situation of the kinsr's conscience. 
 Since that time, Father Desmarets has succeeded Father Perus- 
 seau in the office of confessor. He is of a narrower mind than 
 his predecessor, and being surrounded, like him, with persons 
 who, in their desire for the removal of Madame de Pompadour 
 from the court, represent to him the granting of absolution to the 
 king as a dishonourable act, he follows the same principles."* 
 
 Thus wrote Madame de Pompadour. She determined to 
 act accordingly, and she kept her word faithfully. Perhaps 
 it will be said that the Jesuits suffered on this occasion ^om 
 not remainino- true to their own character. AYe do them more 
 justice. This transient weakness reflects honour upon them. 
 On another and still more decisive occasion thev were less 
 fortunate : we advert to an occurrence which is well known. 
 Father Lavalette, a bold speculator, gifted ^ith that kind of 
 spirit which his age denounced but which ours adopts, was at 
 the head of a large establishment of the Order at Martinique. 
 He availed himself of his position to speculate, and founded a 
 bank. Some jealous friends, perhaps some of his brethren, threw 
 difficulties in his way ; his bills of exchange were protested both 
 in France and in Martinique. A house at Lyons and Marseilles 
 stopped payment, and loudly accused the Jesuit banker with being 
 the cause of their failure, implicating;- at the same time the whole 
 society as responsible for one of its members. In this instance 
 the Order again forfeited its character and reputation for sagacity, 
 but less nobly than in the affair with Madame de Pompadour. 
 Instead of paying the money and compelling the whole body to 
 contribute, the general delivered up Father Lavalette and the 
 
 * Manuscripts of the Duke de Choiseul. 
 
26 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. ii. 
 
 house of Martinique. He committed a serious fault in referrino- 
 the decision of the matter to the high chamber of the Parliament 
 of Paris. The Jesuits, according to their own writers, yielded 
 to treacherous counsel. It may be so, but why did they listen 
 to it ? Of what avail was their boasted sagacity, if it did not 
 preserve them from snares ? Be this as it may, if there was a 
 snare, they fell into it. This proceeding at law caused the greatest 
 sensation : the Jesuits were declared responsible for the debt of 
 Father Lavalette, and sentenced to pay to the house at Mar- 
 seilles 1,502,266 francs, and were taxed with all the costs; their 
 possessions were placed under sequestration, and rendered liable 
 to be sold, if needed, to complete the payment. But this heavy 
 pecuniary loss, which a little resolution and foresight might easily 
 have averted, was nothing in comparison to the moral injury 
 which the Society sustained. In the course of the proceedings 
 they were called upon to produce their rule, — that rule which 
 had never before been exposed to the public eye. From that 
 time all minor questions disappeared ; mistresses, bankrupts, 
 Madame de Pompadour, Father Lavalette, the deficit of the 
 bankers (who were never paid), all the lesser incidents of this 
 affair, vanished before the great question affecting the position of 
 the Society itself. In France a great cause is with difficulty 
 kept within the circle of personalities ; an affair of merely a pri- 
 vate nature is soon forgotten, unless it attaches itself to general 
 ideas, which alone excite the national passions. By a charac- 
 teristic spirit peculiar to France, and which nothing can correct, 
 the accidental question is always lost in a question of principles ; 
 all discussion terminates here, instead of leading, as it generally 
 does in other countries, to personal discussions. This has been 
 seen to be the case in Portugal : the practical application of 
 principles was urgent : the first views taken were mean and 
 pitiful, and all was restricted to the narrow circle of a few names 
 and some partial facts. Such was not the case in France : the 
 complaints of a favourite, or the ambition of a minister, had a 
 feeble hold upon public opinion, which looked to the cause and 
 origin of the quarrel. Dogmatical disputes, which had so long 
 been forgotten, now resumed all the force of present interest and 
 all the attractions of novelty : there was a universal eagerness to 
 
CHAP. II.] OPPOSED PARTIES IN FRANCE. 27 
 
 discover and apply these mysterious constitutions. AVomen and 
 even children were animated with the ardour of old practised 
 lawyers : Pascal became the idol of the moment, and La Cha- 
 lotais its hero. His Compte Re7idu, the glory of which the 
 Jesuits have in vain attempted to take from him — those of the 
 advocate-general Joly de Fleury, and of the procureur-general 
 Ripert de Montclar, the report of Laverdy, the suit of the 
 Abbe Chauvelin, were to be seen upon every toilet-table side by 
 side with Tanzai and the Bijoux indiscrets. In tlie green- 
 rooms of the theatres the performance of the evening was for- 
 gotten in the events of the morning : Tartufe grew pale before 
 Escobar ; whilst in the large mansions of the Cite and the Isle 
 Saint Louis, inhabited by the ancient families of the magistracy, 
 as well as in the dark back rooms in which generations of shop- 
 keepers had for ages been immured, the discussion became more 
 serious and undisguised, although no less passionate and ardent. 
 Both sexes of every age and class seized with avidity the writings 
 which poured forth from the office of the Blancs-Manteaux ; 
 nothing was talked of but probabilism, surrenders of conscience, 
 obsolete maxims, and mental reservations. 
 
 The philosophers, in their turn, thought there was too much 
 talk on these subjects. The triumph of the Jansenists made 
 them lean to the side of the Jesuits ; they declared the latter to 
 be justly punished for what they termed their insolence, and 
 smiled at a defeat plotted by the rich and noble, whose intimacy 
 the Jesuits always enjoyed ; they were very well pleased to 
 witness their fall as a religious order, but their treatment as a 
 proscribed class began to excite their commiseration. The 
 Jansenists grew too powerful.* Vain and tardy opposition ! 
 the impulse had been given, and Voltaire himself could not ha^e 
 arrested, had he desired it, which is by no means certain. 
 There remained, however, a more real and formidable obstacle 
 to be surmounted — the resistance of the king. There was in the 
 character of Louis XV. a singular mixture of various impres- 
 sions and contradictory habits. He had been trained to respect 
 the Jesuits, but this respect was at the same time allied to fear : 
 
 * " What would it profit me to be delivered from the foxes, if only to be 
 given up to the wolves?" — Voltaire to La Chalotais, November 3rd, 17G2. 
 Volt., Ed. Delangle, vol. Ixxxii. p. 37. 
 
28 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. ii. 
 
 the old accusations of a regicidal spirit had produced no ordinary 
 impression upon his timid spirit. Following the example of all 
 his predecessors, from Henry TV. downwards, he regarded the 
 appointment of a Jesuit confessor near his person as an act not 
 only of moral propriety but as a guarantee of his personal safety ; 
 in short, any rupture with the Jesuits appeared to him hazardous, 
 and even dangerous. He was moreover convinced of their ability 
 to impart instruction ; and although a motive like this of general 
 utility made little impression upon the egoism of such a prince, 
 care for his own safety produced its natural and powerful effect 
 upon his conduct. Born upon the throne, an object of adulation 
 from the age of five years, snatched from death in the midst of 
 public acclamations, and the declared favourite of his people, 
 Louis XY. set an immense value on his own life ; he was, more- 
 over, the grandson of Louis XIV., and this had its effect upon 
 his character ; like his ancestor, although not possessing the 
 same power of mind, he fancied himself of a nature superior to 
 other men. Such was the education of Versailles. Louis XV. 
 thought, with perfect sincerity and good faith, that the devotion 
 of king's to religion and to its ministers was sufficient to com- 
 pensate for their frailties, and to keep them in a sphere apart from 
 the common herd of sinners. " You will be damned," he said 
 one day to Choiseul. The duke expostulated, and took the 
 liberty to remark to his Majesty that, after so severe a judgment, 
 there was reason to tremble for the king himself; that, placed as 
 he was so high above the rest of men, the reproach of scandal and 
 the danger of example rested more seriously on his Majesty than 
 upon his subjects. " Our situations are widely different," re- 
 joined the king ; " I am the anointed of the Lord." And the 
 better to explain his meaning, he told the duke that God would 
 not permit his eternal damnation, if, in his kingly office, he 
 maintained the Catholic religion. Choiseul, commenting too 
 strictly, perhaps, on the king's words, says that, on this condition, 
 Louis XV. must have imagined himself at liberty, with a 
 safe conscience, to indulge in any excesses. " The king," 
 he adds, " was instructed in his religion like a nun of Sainte- 
 Marie. No one could listen to him without disgust ; and (a 
 thing which is inconceivable, and which I should not believe 
 but that he told it me) he resolved to form an alliance with the 
 
CHAP, ii.l PROPOSAL TO THE HOLY SEE. 29 
 
 House of Austria merely with a view to the ill-considered project 
 of annihilating Protestantism after having crushed the King of 
 Prussia."* 
 
 The resistance of Louis XV. would have been insurmountable, 
 had not the fickleness of his character exceeded the prejudices of 
 his education. Madame de Pompadour, and the Duke de Choi- 
 seul, in order to please that favourite, circumvented the monarch : 
 they represented to him that the parliaments and the people were 
 roused against the Jesuits, and they inspired him with the dread 
 of a new Fronde. Thus placed between two extremes, the king 
 was induced to adopt the course which appeared the least perilous. 
 Choiseul placed before him the alternative of the expulsion of 
 the Jesuits or the dissolution of the parliaments. Louis XV. 
 was not yet prepared for such a measure as the latter ; and the 
 suppression of the Order appeared to him more easy of accom- 
 plishment. It was represented to him that the Christian religion 
 had existed for fifteen centuries without the Jesuits, and that it 
 w^ould continue to exist very well without them ; and at the same 
 time the regicidal maxims of some casuists were again placed 
 before him. At length, wearied rather than convinced, and 
 alwaj's desirous of quiet rather than truth, Louis XV. yielded ; 
 but, with a feeling of moderation which does him honour, he 
 did not consent to the immediate destruction of the Order : he 
 directed letters to be written to Eome, with a view to obtain a 
 reform, but to obtain it immediately, and without hesitation or sub- 
 terfuge. Choiseul himself prepared the scheme of one, and sent 
 it to the Holy See. Through the medium of the Cardinal de 
 Eoche-Chouart, he informed the pope that fifty-one bishops in 
 France had assembled, not in regular and formal conclave, but in 
 a private conference at the residence of the Cardinal de Luynes, 
 one of their body ; that in this assembly it had been resolved, 
 with only six dissenting voices, and after a profound examination 
 of the constitution of the Order, that the unlimited authority of the 
 general residing at Rome was incompatible with the laws of the 
 kingdom ; that, with a view to reconcile the wants of all parties, 
 the general ought to appoint a vicar who should reside in 
 France, — a measure, moreover, which was in conformity with 
 
 * Manuscripts of the Duke de Choiseul. 
 
30 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. ii. 
 
 the statutes, since they authorised the general to appoint a vicar 
 in cases of pressing importance. The internal government of 
 the Society would in no way be changed by this measure ; so far 
 from it, that if by chance the general himself came to reside in 
 France he would exercise full authority over the Order, and the 
 powers intrusted to the vicar would be suspended. In this 
 manner the maintenance of the Society and the execution of the 
 laws of the kingdom would be reconciled, especially the edict of 
 Henry IV., of 1601, one clause in which provides distinctly that 
 a Jesuit, possessing authorised powers, should always reside near 
 the king, as a pledge and surety for the Society.* 
 
 This transaction, which Mould have been honourable under 
 any circumstances, was unlooked for in the present state of 
 affairs. Its reception by the Jesuits is well known : " Sint ut 
 sunt, aut non sint " — " Let them remain as they are, or let them 
 exist no longer,'* Their partisans of the present day deny this 
 answer. The impossibility of fundamentally modifying their con- 
 stitution, so as to adapt it to changing circumstances, forms at once 
 both the power and the weakness of this Society ; it is precisely this 
 which so frequently places them in the utmost peril, but it is this 
 likewise that prevents their extinction. 
 
 At length, notwithstanding the efforts of a powerful party, at 
 the head of which were the Dauphin and Mesdames, Louis ex- 
 pelled the Society of the Jesuits from France (1764), saying, as 
 their only funeral oration, " It will be pleasant to see Father 
 Perusseau an abbe." 
 
 Two years later came the turn of Spain. The causes which 
 were here at work are veiled in impenetrable obscurity. Never 
 did a more trifling motive lead to so decisive a result ; the very 
 name which is given in history to this event manifests its frivo- 
 lity — Uemeute des chapeaux. At that time large hats were in 
 fashion at Madrid, with broad rims, similar to that which Beau- 
 marchais gives to Basile. In the ardour of reform, which at that 
 period extended to small as well as great matters, Charles III. 
 wished to suppress these hats. He had a reason for this step, as 
 numerous abuses had risen out of the fashion of wearing these 
 
 * Despatch of the Duke de Choiseul to the Cardinal de Koche-Chouart, 
 of January 6th, 1762. 
 
CHAP. II.] SUDDEN OUTBREAK IN SPAIN. 01 
 
 Lats, together -svith the use of large cloaks. The minister 
 Squillace wished to prohibit the capas and chamhergos ; but he 
 was a Neapolitan, and the Spaniards would not submit — they in 
 fact revolted. Squillace was besieged in his own house, which 
 was destroyed, and the minister escaped death only by flight. 
 In vain the TTalloon guards marched against the people ; in vain 
 the king- himself harangoied the seditious multitude from a bal- 
 cony ; neither an armed force nor the majesty of the king were 
 able to appease the tumult. The Jesuits alone succeeded, and 
 with so little trouble that it led to their being accused of fo- 
 menting the riot. The king was of this opinion, and did not 
 forget the circumstance (1766). 
 
 The revolt lasted for several days. The ambassadors were at 
 that time little familiarized with such outbreaks of popular feel- 
 ing. The Marquis d'Ossun, who represented the court of Ver- 
 sailles at Madrid, animated by a chivalrous spirit, proffered the 
 assistance of France to the King of Spain. It v.as not dis- 
 avowed — the fashion was not yet established ; but Charles III., 
 a Castillian at heart, answered by a refusal, which relieved 
 Louis XV. of considerable anxiety, as he had been greatly 
 alarmed by the disturbances in Madrid. Louis was curious 
 to learn the minutest details of this event, and inquired about 
 them with all the anxiety and forebodings of a weak mind. 
 At this period the report of an insurrection in a neighbour- 
 ing country was sufficient to arouse the most apathetic sove- 
 reign. IMoreover, in spite of his carelessness, Louis XV. was 
 deeply wounded by so marked a disrespect to the majesty 
 of royalty. "What a spectacle I — a prince of his blood cited 
 to appear before the mob ! Xevertheless, as the natural in- 
 ertness of Louis was stronger than his indignation, it ended 
 by his ordering his ambassador never for the future to make 
 any proposition to the cabinet of Aranjuez, and declaring that 
 he relied implicitly on the wisdom of the king his cousin. 
 
 The Duke de Choiseul would have shown less patience if left 
 to follow his own inclinations. He severely censured the weak- 
 ness of Charles III., and the incapacity of his minister Grimaldi, 
 whilst the possible return to office of Don Ricardo "\^^all and 
 the Duke d'Albe, enemies of France, heightened his ill-humour. 
 
32 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap, ii 
 
 He was indiofnant too at the inertness of Charles ;* but the re- 
 membrance of this revolt vanished rapidl}'- ; in fact, from 
 March 27, 1766, until the 2nd of April, 1767, the event, to- 
 gether with its consequences, having led to no result, were 
 forgotten ; when suddenly, at an instant when Spain and Europe 
 expected it the least, a royal decree appeared, abolishing the 
 institution of the Jesuits in the Peninsula, and expelling them 
 from the Spanish monarchy. 
 
 Let the reader picture to himself the astonishment of the 
 whole of Europe at this news ; nothing had occurred to prepare 
 the public mind for such a step ; there had been no threats, no 
 previous signs of the coming storm, but on the contrary an in- 
 creased courtesy and respect had been observed. The Society 
 had even been diverted from any suspicion by the flattery paid 
 them : proscribed by France, they boasted of the friendship of 
 his Catholic Majesty, and at the very moment when they deemed, 
 themselves the most secure, the arm on which they relied for 
 support was raised to crush them. How were they to ward off 
 such a blow ? how, above all, to explain such an humiliating ex- 
 pulsion ? Up to this time the Jesuits, when exposed to the 
 attacks of philosophical ministers and Jansenist parliaments, had 
 uniformly sheltered themselves in their defeats behind the cover 
 of religion : the maxims of their persecutors sanctified their 
 fall. But on this occasion, what motive could be alleged ? 
 D'Aranda, the chief of the council, Monino, Roda, and Cam- 
 pomanes, inferior ministers of the Order, were it is true infected 
 with the modern doctrines ; but although it is easy to detect in 
 them some weakened traits of a Pombal and a Choiseul, did the 
 king, Don Carlos, resemble a Joseph de Braganza or a Louis 
 de Bourbon i' Was he, like those two monarchs, steeped in a 
 drowsv sluo:o:ishness or enervated by licentiousness ? On the 
 contrary, he Mas active, virtuous, and even chaste ; independent 
 of his minister, he scrutinized everything with the eye of a 
 master, and in the full exercise of power he maintained an up- 
 right mind and an ardent spirit. His piety likewise was as 
 zealous as it was sincere ; never was there a prince more 
 
 * D'Ossun to Choiseul (March 27th, 1766).— Official reply of Choiseul to 
 d'Ossuu (May 20th).— Private letter of Choiseul to d'Ossun. 
 
CHAP. II.] FOKGED LETTER TO CHARLES IIL 33 
 
 Catholic, in the strictest sense of the term ; and miracles, even 
 those of his own day, were never questioned by his reason. 
 So far was he from showing any hostility to the court of Rome, 
 or disdaining its spiritual favours, that, on the contrary, he 
 desired, and even solicited them : the instructions to his am- 
 bassadors at Rome were constantly prefaced by the canonization 
 of some monk. All these facts, which are perfectly well known, 
 embarrassed the Jesuits and their partisans ; they were wholly at 
 a loss to comprehend the motives and conduct of the King of 
 Spain, or to discover any plea for this brand inflicted on their so- 
 ciety by so moral, sincere, and devout a sovereign. Their first sus- 
 picions rested on the Dominicans, a rival order in the church, 
 to whom Father Osma, the king's confessor, was attached.* 
 But although a great animosity existed between the various reli- 
 gious orders, this was considered an insufficient explanation of the 
 mystery. Suspicion next fell on Choiseul : the duke alone was 
 said to have done it all ; his machinations had roused the popu- 
 lace of Madrid to demand the expulsion of the Jesuits. This 
 minister, according to the Jesuits' version of the affair, in his 
 anxiety to give the last blow to the wavering piety of Charles III., 
 had resolved on resorting to a forgery. A letter, attributed, it 
 was said, by Choiseul to Ricci, and in which the hand-writing 
 of the general of the Order was perfectly imitated, was intended 
 to convey the suspicion that the King of Spain \\'as an illegiti- 
 mate son of Alberoni, and that the Infant, Don Louis, was the 
 legitimate sovereign rj this charge is absurd ; it is equally im- 
 possible that Choiseul should have forged the letter, as that the 
 general of the Order should have penned it : they were neither 
 of them insane, and they knew Avell enough that such a ma- 
 nosuvre would have obtained no credence. Ambition was the 
 only passion of Elizabeth Farnese, the mother of the king ; she 
 was never accused of intrigue. In the absence of mathematical 
 demonstration, history has recourse to inductions and proba- 
 bilities. In this instance the question lies between the Jesuits 
 and the king of Spain— between a highly ambitious society and 
 
 * Coxe and Muriel, L'Espagne sous les Eois de la Maison de Bourbon, 
 vol. V. p. 34. 
 
 t L'Abbe Georgel, Memoires, vol. i. pp. 110-112. Georgel, who -was an 
 ex-Jesuit, and a determhicd enemy of Choiseul, has the credit fur the secret 
 despatches of an ambassador. -vvfanTO he does not talie the trouble to name. 
 
34 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. ii. 
 
 a prince of a narrow mind, but of admitted truth and frankness. 
 We have already heard the allegations of the society ; — the evi- 
 dence in favour of Charles III. is furnished in a conversation be- 
 tween the king and the ambassador of France. Charles pledged 
 his honour to the Marquis d'Ossun that he had never entertained 
 any personal animosity against the Jesuits ; that, before the last 
 conspiracy, he had even repeatedly refused to sanction any 
 measures inimical to them. Notwithstanding that he had 
 been warned by confidential advisers, on whose word he could 
 relv, that ever since 1759 the Jesuits had incessantly tra- 
 duced his g-overnment, his character, and even his faith, his 
 reply to these ministers had uniformly been that he believed them 
 to be either prejudiced or ill-informed. But the insurrection of 
 1766 had opened the king's eyes: Charles was convinced tliat 
 the Jesuits had fomented it — he possessed the proof of the fact : 
 several members of the society had been arrested in the act of 
 distributing money among the populace. After they had pre- 
 pared the way by poisoning the minds of the citizens with in- 
 sinuations against the government, the Jesuits only awaited a 
 sif^nal to spring the mine. The first opportunity was sufficient, 
 and they were content with the most frivolous pretexts : in one 
 instance the form of a hat or a cloak ; in another the miscon- 
 duct of an intendant, or the knavery of a corregidor. The 
 attempt failed, as the tumult had broken out on Palm Sunday. 
 The time fixed upon had been Holy Thursday, during the cere- 
 mony of visiting the churches, when Charles III. was to be 
 surprised and surrounded at the foot of the cross. There is no 
 reason to think that the rebels had any intention of attempting 
 his life, and they declared that their sole object in resorting 
 to violence was to impose conditions upon the king. Such is 
 the substance of the motives stated by the King of Spain to the 
 Marquis d'Ossun: th.e monarch a second time protested tlie 
 truth of what he had said, and appealed, in proof of this, to all 
 the judges and magistrates of the most incorruptible integrity in 
 his states : he went so far, indeed, as to declare, that, if he had 
 any cause for self-reproach, it was for having been too lenient 
 to so dangerous a body; and then, drawing a deep sigh, he 
 added, " I have learnt to know them too well."* 
 
 * Despatches of the Marquis d'Ossiui to the Duke de Choiseul. 
 
cn^.p. II.] CHARLES GUIDED BY D'AEANDA. 35 
 
 Tlie proceedings against tlie Jesuits continued for a year, and 
 were conducted in profound silence. This is the masterpiece of 
 Spanish discretion. Choiseul was not informed of the publication 
 of the edict until an instant before it took place. The Count 
 d'Aranda feared his fickleness, and his indiscretion in the society 
 of the courtiers and the women.* He neglected no precaution to 
 ensure the success of his undertaking, and endeavoured especially 
 to prevent any suspicions in the court of Rome. The king and 
 his minister admitted into their confidence onlv Don Manuel de 
 Roda, a member of the council, an able jurist, and previously an 
 agent of Spain at Rome. D'Aranda conferred with Monifio and 
 Campomanes, who were very influential magistrates, in a singular 
 and romantic manner : they repaired separately, and unknown to 
 one another, to a kind of ruined house in a remote spot. There 
 thev worked, alone, communicating;- afterwards onlv with the 
 prime minister. The count received the information which they 
 gave him, transcribed it himself, or intrusted the task to one of 
 his pages, who was too young to be distrusted, j The ordinances 
 and memoirs relative to the Jesuits never passed through the 
 ministerial offices : the count himself carried the various expedi- 
 tions to the king, not admitting either Moniiio or Campomanes, 
 and he checked their pride by telling them that he intended to 
 be the master, as was just, since he was their head. 
 
 D'Aranda, tenacious, inflexible, self-willed, and courageous, 
 went straight onwards to his object. Acting upon his advice, 
 Charles III. did not even consult the pope, and announced to 
 him the expulsion of the Jesuits as a measure accomplished. 
 There was no extraordinary embassy, nor were any unusual steps 
 taken : a courier was simply the bearer of an autograph letter 
 to Clement XIII. ; and at the same moment a pragmatic sanc- 
 
 * The Abbe Georgel (vol. i. p. 120) affirms that Charles III. placed no 
 confidence in the Duke de Choiseul. This assertion is only half true : ne- 
 vertheless it is sufficiently true to destroy the accusation -we have mentioned, 
 and Avhich is given a few lines below. According to the Abbe, it was the 
 Duke de Choiseul who fomented the insurrection in Madrid, in order to lead 
 to the expulsion of the Jesuits. Coxe (vol. iv. of the ' History of the Bour- 
 bons in Spain'; insinuates the same fact, attributing it to other motives. 
 Nothing is more incorrect : no trace of any is to be found in the private and 
 diplomatic correspondence of the Duke de Choisevd with M. d'Ossim, his 
 friend, his ally, and one of the blindest executors of his policy. 
 
 t Georgel, vol. i. p. 117. — Souvenirs et Portraits du Due de Levis, p. 1C8 ; 
 article Aranda. 
 
 D 2 
 
36 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. n. 
 
 tion, published by order of the king, suppressed the society 
 throughout the vrhole Spanish monarchy. This edict prohibited 
 any Jesuit from re-entering Spain under any pretext ; it inter- 
 dicted him also from all correspondence with that country, on 
 pain of the heaviest punishment. An express prohibition was 
 issued to the ecclesiastical authorities to allow any allusion to 
 this event to be made from the pulpit, and Spaniards of all classes 
 were enjoined to maintain absolute silence upon the subject. Any 
 kind of controversy or declamation, any criticism upon, or 
 even any apolog}^ for, the new regulations were, according to this 
 edict, regarded as a crime of high-treason, as it was 7iot for 
 private persons to judge of or to interpret the ivill of the 
 sovereign. 
 
 The orders issued from the court were executed instantly. On 
 the 2nd of April, 1767 — on the same day and at the same hour, — 
 in Spain, in the north and south of Africa, in Asia and America, 
 in all the islands of the Spanish monarchy, the alcaldes of the 
 towns opened the despatches which they received from Madrid. 
 The tenor of all was the same : the alcaldes were enjoined, on 
 pain of the severest penalties (it is said on pain of death), im- 
 mediately to enter the establishments of the Jesuits, armed, to 
 take possession of them, to expel the Jesuits from their convents, 
 and to transport them, within twenty-four hours, as prisoners, to 
 such port as was mentioned. The latter were to embark in- 
 stantly, leaving their papers under seal, and carrj^ing away with 
 them only a breviary, a purse, and some apparel. 
 
 On the first report of this measure, the government had 
 naturally to fear a popular excitement, but the national feeling 
 soon relapsed into indifference ; the people remained passive 
 spectators of the change, and the numerous adherents of the 
 Jesuits among the nobles, obedient to the orders of the king, 
 confined their expressions of displeasure to their own palaces, 
 placing all their hope in the firmness of the court of Rome. 
 Clement XIII., an infirm old man, shed a torrent of tears. The 
 Cardinal Torrigiani, who exercised a control over him, although 
 struck to the heart, left the Pope to his tears, and resolved to 
 act. Torrigiani, whilst he ruled over Clement XIII., was him- 
 self subject to a severe yoke ; in his office of secretary of 
 state he was merely the agent of the Jesuits. Weighed down 
 
CHAP. II.] CRUELTY OF RICCI. 37 
 
 as he was by various diseases, he had long been anxious to 
 quit the ministry ; but Father Ricci, the general of the order, 
 retained him despotically at the foot of the throne : he urged 
 upon Torrigiani the duty of sacrificing all for tlie interests 
 of the society, and the cardinal obeyed. The pliancy with 
 which the Jesuits had been reproached was no part of the 
 character of their chief. Their policy, moreover, was to ap- 
 pear in the light of being cruelly persecuted ; for them there 
 was no medium between a sovereign sway and martyrdom ; 
 mediocrity would have degraded them. Ricci resolved to sacri- 
 fice tlie individuals to the weal of the society : he had hitherto 
 received the Portuguese and French emigrants only with cold- 
 ness and disdain, regarding exile and proscription as opprobrious 
 to the society, who had in a great measure considered their glory 
 as based upon a continuance of good fortune. The fall of the 
 Jesuits in vSpain, a country which had been such a nursery of the 
 monastic orders, appeared to him still more humiliating. Charles 
 III. sent the emigrants to the ports of the Eomish states, but 
 Eicci resolved to refuse to let them land ; and Torrigiani, sub- 
 missive to his suggestions, or rather to his commands, sent word 
 to the Spanish minister that the Pope would not receive the 
 Jesuits. Charles paid no attention to this message, and ordered 
 that they should be landed, if necessary, by force. 
 
 It must be admitted, that the arrest and embarkation of 
 the Jesuits were accomplished with a precipitation which 
 might perhaps have been necessary, but was not the less bar- 
 barous. Nearly six thousand priests, of all ages and condi- 
 tions, — men illustrious by birth and learning, old men oppressed 
 with infirmities, despoiled even of the most indispensable re- 
 quisites, were stowed away in the hold of a ship, and sent adrift 
 upon the ocean, with no determinate object, and without any 
 fixed direction. After a voyage of several days, they arrived 
 before Civita Yecchia : their arrival was expected, and they 
 were received with cannon-shot. The Jesuits were furious at 
 the conduct of their general ; they reproached him with cruelty, 
 and attributed to him all their misfortunes. The Spanish com- 
 mander could have braved the feeble power of the pope, and 
 have landed by force of arms; but he abstained from this step, 
 and coasted away towards Leghorn and Genoa. There these 
 
38 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. ii. 
 
 unfortunate men were received with a similar refusal to land. 
 Diplomatic negotiations failed : what step could they take ? 
 There remained the island of Corsica, which the French at that 
 time occupied ; and the King of Spain requested Choiseul to 
 grant there an asylum to the fugitives ; but Marboeuf, the 
 French commandant, opposed this step, because the island was 
 destitute of resources, and scarcely afforded room sufficient for 
 the army of occupation : there were no towns, and hardly any 
 villages. On every side the country was surrounded with barren 
 rocks, and infested by the haunts of banditti. The troops them- 
 selves derived their subsistence from without ; for the present 
 of a few half-starved cows and som.e goats was only an act of 
 courtesy on the part of Paoli. The penury was such, that the 
 maintenance of three thousand men cost France a million jter 
 annum ^ beside their pay. Under these circumstances, IMarboeuf 
 could not receive an addition of two thousand five hundred 
 Jesuits ; he consequently refused, and Choiseul supported him. 
 Charles III. was enraged at this refusal ; and at length, Choi- 
 seul, persuaded by the entreaties of the King of Spain,* ordered 
 their disembarkation in Corsica. Thus, after wandering upon 
 the ocean for six months, without succour or hope, worn out with 
 fatigue, decimated by sickness, and repulsed even by their own 
 Order, the Spanish Jesuits at last found a miserable asylum, and 
 a lot little better than the miseries they had previously endured.! 
 
 * Confidential letter of Choiseul to Grimaldi, dated from Saint Hubert, 
 June 24tb, 1767. 
 
 t We have not wished, in reference to the edicts of banishment issued by 
 France and Spain, to expose in detail the tenets of the Jesuits — the subject 
 of a nuiltitude of well-known works. Our especial object is, to depict the 
 state of the pubhc mind, the course of affairs, the characters of the principal 
 persons, and lastly, the political and moral ensemble of Europe at the period 
 of the fall of the Sociotj'. 
 
CHAP. 111.1 DUKE DE CHOISEUL. -9 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Duke de Choiseul— Affair of Parma— Death of Clement XIII.-Tlie 
 Conclave — The Emperor Joseph II. at Rome — Election of Ganganelli — 
 Clement XIV. 
 
 Wearied with these monastic quarrels, and astonished no less 
 than indignant at the importance they assumed, Choiseul was 
 anxious at all ev^eats to put a stop to them. His first efforts to 
 establish a reform in the society having been rejected, the conse- 
 quences which he had been anxious to prevent were too extended 
 for his liking : tliey diverted him from more serious occupations. 
 He resolved, therefore, to cut the knot which he liad been unable 
 to unravel, and, taking advantage of the anger of the King of 
 Spain, he persuaded him to the bold but decisive step of demanding 
 from the Pope, in connection with France and Naples, the com- 
 plete and general abolition of the Society of the Jesuits. His- 
 torians have attributed this step to passion and resentment ; and, 
 to justify their conjectures, they recur to the time of the embassy 
 of the duke to Rome, when Benedict XIV. was on the throne. 
 In this they are wrong, — the complaints of the Jesuits have 
 deceived them. Choiseul did not deign to extend to the religious 
 orders either affection or hate: his disposition was frivolous, 
 but his spirit was noble ; and, although not profound, he was 
 Incapable of anything mean or pitiful. Choiseul would not have 
 saved the kingdom, but he had the address to cast a veil over the 
 decline of its power. He was simply a man of tlie world. In a 
 constitutional government the weight of responsibility would 
 have proved his ruin, whilst in a republic he would have been 
 regarded only as a presumptuous and prodigal coxcomb. The 
 atmosphere of Versailles was necessary to his very existence : 
 all the qualities, the defects, and the very graces of this minister, 
 belonged properly to his own rank, society, and age ; and 
 whilst his actions, conversation, and thoughts always bore this 
 stamp, he invested them Avith a character of grandeur. He was 
 
40 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. hi. 
 
 the first who combined in his own person the talon-rouge with 
 the statesman ; he was also the first, perhaps, who gave to in- 
 discretion the loftier character of franlcness, raised insolence 
 into dignity, and conferred on frivolity the semblance of in- 
 dependence. Endued with a spirit less firm than refined, he 
 comprehended the age in which he lived wonderfully, but he 
 never ruled it. The philosophers possessed an influence over 
 him which he endeavoured to conceal : he was tired of such 
 domineering preceptors, and kept aloof from them ; nevertheless 
 he always relapsed into their tutelage. It was not, however, the 
 philosophy of the times that obliged him to take part in the affairs 
 of the Jesuits, but policy, — the necessity of pleasing Charles III. 
 That prince persecuted the Jesuits bitterly, and too great a 
 lukewarmness might lead to a rupture between the duke and the 
 King of Spain. In this state of affairs the Jesuits were an 
 obstacle in his path, which he put aside without either passion 
 or anger : he proposed their suppression from very lassitude. 
 One instance may be cited in proof of this. The French ambas- 
 sador at Rome was endeavouringf' to effect the recall of tlie 
 cardinal secretary of state, and wrote on the subject to the 
 Duke de Choiseul, whose official reply was couched in the fol- 
 lowing terms : — " You are embarrassed. Monsieur, by the choice 
 of a secretary of state if Cardinal Torrigiani fails ; and I am 
 equally worried by a fool of a nuncio whom you have sent 
 me, and who can certainly never be good for anything : let us 
 take measures together in our embarrassment, — manage so that 
 the nuncio is made secretary of state ; he will at all events be 
 worth as much and as little as another, and I shall get rid of 
 him here."* This is certainly not the language of a fanatical 
 persecutor. It was not, therefore, from any deep feeling, which 
 the Jesuits attribute to him, that Choiseul suggested to the King 
 of Spain the demand for the suppression of the Order : he 
 yielded to the repeated requests of the Parliament of Paris, 
 whose interests he had espoused. " Of what good," said these 
 rulers, " is it to have expelled the Jesuits from France, unless 
 that act is followed by their entire abolition? Their return 
 amongst us remains always open and possible, and who can 
 tell what accident may effect this ? a change of dynasty, or of 
 
 * Choiseul to d' Aubeterre : Versailles, December, 1 768. 
 
CHAP. III.] DUKE DE CIIOISEUL. 41 
 
 the ministry, — perhaps the caprice of a nii^^lress, or a fit of 
 devotion in a superannuated sovereign. Has not Louis XIV. 
 given an example of this ? And in that case, what may not be 
 expected from the return of a body of priests exasperated by the 
 past and triumphing- in their new successes ?" These were the 
 presentiments which actuated the Parliament, and Choiseul 
 left them to act. With his natural indifference, he fancied 
 even that he was rendering the Jesuits a service by demanding 
 the complete abolition of their society : he persecuted them 
 from a feeling of pity, and solicited their destruction from mo- 
 tives of humanity ! He witnessed with pain the treatment in- 
 flicted by powerful sovereigns upon unarmed old men ; and the 
 exposure to which they were subjected in their transport across 
 the sea, and their penury in Corsica, grieved him deeply. In 
 his view, the measure proposed was for the interest of the 
 Jesuits themselves. Freed from all prejudices, and sheltered 
 from the animosity of the different governments, he considered 
 that they would regain a peaceful life in the circle of their 
 families, live without fear, in submission to the laws of their 
 country, and would be happy to return to the ordinary course 
 of life.* 
 
 The efforts of Charles III. and the Duke de Choiseul tended 
 to the same result, but by means which their respective cha- 
 racters rendered very different. There was a singular contrast 
 between this thoughtless minister, who scrupled not to sacrifice 
 a religious order to the spirit of the day, and the king, an honest 
 catholic, who engaged in persecution with all the zeal and 
 earnestness of a Dominican. It was to be expected that the 
 duke's proposition would be readily welcomed at Madrid ; but, 
 contrary to the expectation of the minister, Charles III. recoiled 
 from the idea of suppressing the Order. His conscience repre- 
 sented to him the expulsion of the Jesuits of Spain as simply a 
 measure of policy, but he regarded the abolition of the society as 
 a holocaust to the Voltaire philosophy. The proposition of Ver- 
 sailles was therefore coldly received at the Escurial ; and, to 
 complete the surprise of the duke, Naples, Venice, and even 
 Portugal, all suddenly drew back from so vast and decisive a 
 project. These cabinets argued the impossibility of obtaining 
 
 * Choiseul to d'Ossun : Marly, May lltli, 1767. 
 
42 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap, in, 
 
 a brief of secularization under the reign of Clement XIII., and 
 they begged Choiseul to await the assembly of the next conclave. 
 But all these delays only irritated the duke's petulance : he had 
 proposed to suppress the Order solely with a view to get rid of the 
 subject, and he represented forcibly that the longer existence of 
 so powerful and exasperated a body endangered the House of 
 Bourbon. It may be imagined that this language was dictated 
 by animosity ; but it was simply the expression of impatience, 
 as is sufficiently proved by the confidential letters of the Duke de 
 Choiseul. 
 
 The favourable moment, however, had not yet arrived ; some 
 fresh event was requisite to bring this great affair to a crisis, 
 and the Pope himself afforded this occasion. Clement XIII. 
 provoked an explosion which Benedict XIV. had foreseen, but 
 had used every means to avoid. Naples and Parma had fol- 
 loAved the example of Spain. Clement XIII. dared not to 
 strike the blow at Naples, and he therefore sought to be 
 avenged in a weaker quarter, directing his hostility to the 
 Infant of Parma, a prince the extent of whose states were un- 
 doubtedly very small, but whose alliances rendered him power- 
 ful. The Pope regarded a grandson of France, the Infant of 
 Spain, only in the light of a Farnese ; he imagined that he was 
 only attacking an ancient fief of the Holy See, whereas he was at 
 the same time seizing upon one of the powers annexed to the 
 great Bourbon monarchy. The style and title of the Duke of 
 Parma were declared forfeited by a papal bull. Charles III. 
 and Louis XV. were equally taken by surprise by this measure, 
 but each in his own way, according to his character. If left to 
 himself, Louis would not have taken any part in the ecclesias- 
 tical dispute ; it was not sufficient to arouse him from apatliy, 
 whilst it was too much for the lively activity of Choiseul. The 
 minister, in a fit of indignation, ran to the king, represented all 
 the consequences of the step taken by the Pope, and inveighed 
 eloquently against this revival of the projects of Gregory VII. 
 and Sixtus V. Louis evinced more regret than indignation : 
 he had been educated by the Molinists in the fear of Rome, 
 and he was anxious to avoid any rupture with that power. 
 He was irresolute, wavering, and of a natural weakness of cha- 
 racter, -which excluded every feeling but that of pride. As has 
 
CHAP. III.] THREATENED RECALL OF AMBASSADORS. 43 
 
 been before observed, no prince ever more firmly belie^•ed in his 
 divine risrht than Louis XV. Choiseul attacked him on this 
 point ; he represented to him Rezzonico, the son of a Venetian 
 merchant, insulting a grandson of Saint Louis. Political argu- 
 ments weighed nothing in comparison with such a consideration ; 
 nevertheless the minister did not choose to neglect them ; he 
 argued thus: '' If the Pope had any disputes to settle with the 
 Infanta, was it not his duty to appeal to the court of France ? 
 After such an insult, Louis XIV. would have compelled Car- 
 dinal Torrigiani to sue for pardon at Versailles ; his successor 
 will employ gentler, but not less effectual means ; he will call 
 upon Clement XIII. to revoke his monitory letter, and if, at 
 the expiration of a week, the Pope answers by a refusal, 
 the ambassadors of the two kings will quit Rome, and the 
 nuncios will be dismissed from Versailles and Aranjuez." * 
 Choiseul spoke thus in the name of the national honour, and the 
 parliament of Paris supported him as usual, suppressing the 
 new brief. 
 
 Charles III. was neither less zealous nor less urgent than 
 Choiseul : they hastened to take measures together, and their 
 couriers crossed upon the road. The King of Spain no sooner 
 received the news from Parma than he declared himself per- 
 sonally aggrieved : he assembled his extraordinary council, 
 composed of laymen of a grave character, and several bishops. 
 Like the French minister, he suggested the recall of the ambas- 
 sadors accredited at the court of Pome. The Count d'Aranda 
 opposed this measure, representing that it would only have the 
 effect of putting the pope too much at his ease ; the presence of 
 these ambassadors moreover was indispensable in the event of 
 the convocation of a conclave ; the health and advanced age of 
 the pope rendered the prospect of this event near at hand, and 
 meanwhile they alone had the power to demand the recall of the 
 monitory letter ; and, if the pope still resisted, they alone had 
 the power to threaten the occupation of Avignon by the French 
 troops, and that of Benevento and Castro by those of the 
 King of Naples. Choiseul adopted the plan of the Spanish 
 
 * Letter of the Duke de Choiseul to MiNL d'Ossun and Gnmaldi.— (Letters 
 of Grimaldi to the Count de Fucntes.' 
 
44 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap, hi 
 
 minister.* In ecclesiastical matters he always deferred to the 
 
 opinion of the King of Spain, reserving his influence for occasions 
 
 which he deemed more important. He ordered the Marquis 
 
 d' Aubeterre, ambassador at Rome, to consult with the Archbishop 
 
 ofValentia, Azpuru, charge d'affaires of Spain, and Cardinal 
 
 Orsini, the Neapolitan minister. As soon as they had received 
 
 their instructions, they all three demanded a speedy audience or 
 
 the pope. This incident was dangerous to the partisans of the 
 
 Jesuits ; old Rezzonico might give way from weakness, and it 
 
 was necessary to prepare him for the shock. Torrigiani and the 
 
 Zelcmti cardinals did not lose sight of him until the decisive 
 
 moment : they represented to him the glory of martyrdom in a 
 
 victorious resistance, an object which the pious Clement XIII. 
 
 had so frequently desired. They reminded him that Benedict 
 
 XIV. had humbled the tiara before the sovereigns of Europe, 
 
 and that he was destined to upraise it again. At the same 
 
 time other arguments were employed to second these exhortations. 
 
 Rezzonico found in his apartments copies of the frescos oi 
 
 Raphael representing St. Leo advancing to meet Attila. In 
 
 short, the Jesuits neglected no means of influencing the mind oi 
 
 the pontiff", either by argument or outward representation ; they 
 
 dictated the most violent replies to the pope, who was already 
 
 burdened by years. In the first moments of his interview with 
 
 d' Aubeterre, Clement remembered perfectly well the instructions 
 
 he had received: he scarcely deigned to cast a glance on the 
 
 memorial which the ambassador presented to him, and declared 
 
 that he would rather die a thousand times than revoke his decree; 
 
 that, by recognising the legitimacy of the rights of the Infant of 
 
 Parma, he should be committing a heavy sin in the sight of God ; 
 
 and that it would be opposed to his own conscience, of which 
 
 he was the sole judge, and of which he had only to render an 
 
 account to a divine tribunal. But this firmness did not last 
 
 long : as he went on to read his reply, when the old man came 
 
 to the word reprisals, his whole frame trembled, a cold sweat 
 
 bathed his cheeks, and he exclaimed in a broken voice, " The 
 
 * Consultation of the Extraordinary Council of Spain, on the subject of 
 the letter of the Pope against the Infant Duke of Parma ; edited by Monnio. 
 Madrid, February 21st, 1768. 
 
CHAP. III.] FEAES OF THE EOMANS. 45 
 
 vicar of Jesus Christ is treated like tlie lowest of mankind ! 
 True that lie has neither armies nor cannon, and it is an easy 
 matter to despoil him of all his possessions, but it is beyond the 
 power of man to compel him to act against his conscience." 
 These words were followed bv a flood of tears. 
 
 The city, however, did not share the secular views of the 
 pope's advisers, but on the contrary'- was filled with alarm as to 
 the issue of this conflict. The pope was generally censured for 
 having imprudently rejected the mediation of the great powers, 
 — an honourable means of preserving their self-respect. The 
 fears of the Eomans were soon realized : they heard that the 
 French had taken possession of Avignon, and the Neapolitans 
 of Benevento and Ponte-Corvo. But the three courts, satisfied 
 with having inflicted this chastisement, relapsed into a cold dis- 
 dain : their ministers declared that they would no longer hold 
 intercourse with Cardinal Torrigiani, and even opposed his 
 corresponding with the nuncios of France and Spain.*" 
 
 The embarrassment of the pope now increased. The Republic 
 of Venice, the Duke of Modena, and the Elector of Bavaria, 
 aimed at imitating the example of the Infant of Parma ; but the 
 pope, wearied with the long conflict, pretended not to notice this 
 new opposition : his only remaining source of hope lay in the 
 House of Austria; but Maria Theresa, without allowing her 
 name to be mixed up with these quarrels, with marvellous adroit- 
 ness knew well how to take part in them. The Prince de 
 Kaunitz appeared at first to be liighly incensed against the pope, 
 and even haughtily announced his intention of attacking him 
 in a memorial. In reality the Court of Vienna had a great 
 desire to take the exclusive direction of this affair into its own 
 hands, in order to revive, upon the ruins of the papal pretensions, 
 what the court called its rights to the suzerainty of Placentia. 
 As soon as the kings of France and Spain earnestly inter- 
 posed between Clement XIII. and the Infant, Kaunitz cooled 
 down greatly, resumed an appearance of indifference, and said 
 nothing more of his memorial. The empress lent an ear to tlie 
 complaint of the aged pontiff", and spared neither flattering 
 attentions nor consolatory^ messages to Pome, whilst the Count 
 de Firmian, her minister in Lombardy, imposed silence on 
 * D'Aubeterre to Choiseul: Kome, November 23, 17G8. 
 
46 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap, hi. 
 
 Cardinal Pozzo-Bonelli, the archbishop of Milan, and prohi- 
 bited, under the severest penalties, the use of the bull in Ccena 
 Domini. At Rome and Parma the empress was silent, but at 
 Versailles, at the Escurial, and at the Vatican, her diplomatic 
 agents spread the assurance of a general sympathy. 
 
 Clement XIII., however, persisted in refusing to recall his 
 letter. The irritation of the Bourbon monarchs became ex- 
 treme, whilst the rage of their plenipotentiaries went even 
 further : they emulated one another in hostility to the papal 
 court. In the despatches of the Marquis d'Aubeterre we find 
 with surprise that ambassador coolly advising the blockade 
 of Rome, and the reduction of the city by famine ;* proposing to 
 the Duke de Choiseul at the same time to send ten French 
 battalions by sea, from the island of Corsica to Orbitello and 
 Castro, to engage Spain to imitate this example and furnish an 
 additional contingent of four or five thousand Neapolitans, and 
 then to march all these troops to the banks of the Tiber, sur- 
 round Rome, and cut oflf her supply of provisions. The marquis 
 adds that the people, reduced to famine, would necessarily rise, 
 and compel the pope to yield to the demands of the other powers. 
 This, he adds, is the only means of obtaining the expulsion of the 
 Jesuits. Now, we may ask, who were the Jesuits, that a popular 
 insurrection should be stirred up against them ? And what inex- 
 perience does it argue in a statesman of the eighteenth century, 
 to entertain the idea of exciting a whole people to rebellion for 
 the purpose of driving away a body of monks ! This opinion 
 indeed was not shared by the Council, but it is a remarkable 
 fact that it was not considered absurd. Choiseul wished to 
 resort to less brutal and more decisive measures ; he no lon^-er 
 delayed the demand for the total abolition of the Society of the 
 Jesuits, and the secularization of its members; on the 10th of 
 December, 1768, the ambassador of France presented to his 
 Holiness a memoir containing this demand, in the name of the 
 three monarchs. 
 
 This sudden blow came unexpected : the pope, on receiving 
 it, was stupified and remained speechless, nor did he ever 
 recover from the violent shock he had received, A few days 
 afterwards, in consequence of a slight cold, and excessive 
 
 * Despatch of November 30. 
 
cuAP. III.] DEATPI OF CLEMENT XIII. 47 
 
 fatig'iie, which he underwent during a ceremony, he N\as taken ill, 
 and died suddenly (1769). His death, say the Jesuit writers,* 
 did not appear natural ; but this insinuation is wholly gratuitous, 
 and devoid of any probability. There might have been grounds 
 for suspicion in the case of a pontiff gifted with robust healtli, 
 and a strength superior to the infirmities of his years, braving 
 the threats of a powerful party, signing the ruin of that party, 
 and experiencing then, for the first time, an attack of illness 
 which led to his death ; but the circumstance that an old man 
 of eighty-two years of age, subject to apoplectic symptoms, and 
 in such a decrepid state that the diplomatic despatches are filled 
 with conjectures on his approaching death and the speedy 
 convocation of a conclave,- — died in consequence of a violent and 
 sudden shock like this, is so simple and natural that no unpre- 
 judiced mind could doubt its truth. Moreover, no one had any 
 interest in taking away the life of Clement : his infirmities were 
 sufficient to quiet the impatience of the crowned heads, who had 
 nothing to gain from his death, since he would himself have 
 yielded to their wishes. It was the united will of the powers of 
 Europe that sealed and accomplished the fall of Jesuitism. 
 
 Rezzonico had adopted all the means in his power to retard 
 this event : the philosophical historians have attributed to him 
 all the blame, whilst the friends of the society have been extra- 
 vagant in his praise. Both parties are wrong. A temporizing 
 policy had become powerless to maintain the authority of Rome : 
 Clement XIII. was a pope who belonged rather to the twelfth 
 century, and who was lost and bewildered in the eighteenth. 
 Under his pontificate the power of the Holy See sunk into the 
 shade and finally disappeared. The old man could not bear this 
 humiliation ; instead of being satisfied with resistance, he was 
 blind enough to give the signal of attack ; and even in resisting, 
 he showed neither foresight, intelligence, nor address. But his 
 defects of talent were compensated by the qualities of his heart : 
 in his actions he never rose above mediocritv, but at the same 
 
 * George], vol. i. p. 123. This ex-Jesuit even attributes to the Pope 
 language which would seem to confirm tliese imputations by the evidence of 
 the pretended victim ; but the supposition is false : Clement XIII. died from 
 apoplexy ; he had not timely aid, and had not the strength to call any one 
 to his assistance : from the first minute he lost the power of speech, and 
 never recovered it. 
 
48 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. hi. 
 
 time he was never an object of contempt. He gave no protection 
 to the arts, yet the arts have rendered their lasting tribute to his 
 memory; the mausoleum of Clement XIII., erected by his 
 nephews in the Basilica of St. Peter's, has handed down the 
 memory of his pious deportment and venerable features : lions 
 are placed at his feet, — a posthumous mark of flattery typical 
 of a power which the pontiff dreamt of continually but never 
 realized. The statue of Religion which supports him is a more 
 faithful image. The ponderous and uncouth forms which Canova 
 has given to the monument are no unapt emblems of the anti- 
 quated privileges which Clement in vain attempted to revive and 
 to defend. 
 
 No sooner was Clement dead than the ambassadors of France 
 and Spain resolved to obtain a mastery over the conclave : they 
 proclaimed the necessity of electing a pope who should be accept- 
 able to the European powers, and did not imagine the possibility 
 of resistance. But their project was not easy of execution : the 
 death of the pope surprised them at a moment when they least 
 expected it, and disconcerted all their plans of attack. The 
 ambassador of France especially was placed in an embarrassing 
 position. It is true that the instructions he had received relative 
 to the steps he should take in the event of the pope's death were 
 clear and explicit : the Marquis d'Aubeterre was directed in 
 that event to act promptly and forcibly upon the sacred college ; 
 but the ambassador had no means at his command to execute 
 these instructions. France had indeed many pensioners, but 
 not a single friend, at Rome ; and even those who drew most 
 largely from her treasury scarcely took the trouble to con- 
 ceal their aversion. Although ashamed to see their vote put 
 up to public sale, they were too covetous to relinquish the 
 price which they received, and made a fancied compromise with 
 honour by betraying the foreigner who bought them. On the 
 other hand, the general of the Jesuits possessed all those re- 
 sources of which the representative of Louis XV. was destitute, 
 and he had only to employ them skilfully to hasten on the 
 election. A sing'le moment mio;-ht be decisive, and victory was 
 to be won by artifice or boldness. The representatives of the 
 Bourbons saw clearly that they should engag-e in an unequal 
 contest with the Italian priests if they employed the weapons of 
 
CHAP. III.] THE CONCLAVE. 49 
 
 intrigue : a bold and resolute tone could alone be effectively 
 opposed to the tact and skill of the Jesuits. Rome in her 
 degenerate condition could only be conquered by the ancient 
 arms of Rome in her triumphant state ; and, as corruption was 
 useless, it was necessary to resort to intimidation. The in- 
 structions received by the French ambassador were dictated 
 in this spirit, and he fulfilled them to the letter ; indeed, he 
 even exceeded them, D'Aubeterre boasted of maintainino: the 
 closest union with the ministers of Spain and Naples ; he 
 declared that he made no pretensions to dictate the nomination 
 of the future pope, but at the same time added that neither he 
 nor his colleagues would ever permit the election of a pontiff 
 without the consent of the three courts. He moreover de- 
 manded, in explicit terms, that the election should be adjourned 
 until the arrival of the French and Spanish cardinals. These 
 demands were made public, and were repeated in a threaten- 
 ing manner to each member of the sacred college. The mi- 
 nisters represented to their Eminences that an election opposed 
 to the wishes of their respective courts would infallibly lead to a 
 rupture between the See of Rome and the princes of the House 
 of Bourbon ; they added, likewise, that the ambassadors of those 
 powers would refuse to sanction the election, and quitting 
 Rome would retire to Frascati to await further instructions. 
 Such was the haughty tone in which the ambassadors of these 
 courts addressed the descendants of the Roman senate. The 
 cardinals promised to await the arrival of their colleagues 
 from France and Spain, and, after hastily performing the 
 obsequies of Clement XIII. , they formed themselves into a 
 conclave.* 
 
 The struggle which had been suspended by Clement XIII., 
 and decided by his death, was one of essential interest and 
 importance. It not merely hazarded the fate of a religious 
 order, but it involved the serious question whether the Holy 
 See should suppress the Gallican maxims adopted by Spain 
 and Naples, or abandon for ever all its ancient pretensions ; in 
 a word, its fate hung in the balance between unlimited power in 
 the Church, or an abdication of all ecclesiastical authority. 
 The question, as touching the Jesuits, was merely the outward 
 * D'Aubeterre to Choiseul: February, 1769. 
 
50 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. hi. 
 
 semblance, not the real point at issue. In the state of affairs at 
 that period, no compromise was longer possible ; for the pride of 
 the Bourbons would not allow their relinquishing an enterprise 
 upon which they had once entered. After having expelled the 
 Jesuits from their own states, they deemed themselves called 
 upon, by a feeling of honour, to abolish the Order universally. 
 Notwithstanding the weakness of the pontifical power, this tasl: 
 was no easy one ; for the sacrifice was to be wrung from the 
 Holy See itself, and Rome was to be brought to disband the 
 spiritual forces which the sixteenth century had armed and sent 
 forth for the express purpose of combating the novel spirit of the 
 a2:e. Could those orders be allowed to succumb to the attacks 
 of a false philosophy ? Could Rome acknowledge rights in that 
 philosophy more dangerous than the Reformation from which it 
 sprung? The princes hostile to the .Jesuits had but one means 
 of success, — by intimidating the conclave selecting the pope. In 
 spite of more immediate objects of interest, Europe was in- 
 terested in this ecclesiastical debate to a degree which will not 
 appear surprising to the men of our own time. 
 
 The anxiety of the .Jesuits, as may be imagined, was extreme : 
 to them the affair was not one of simple curiosity, but a 
 question of life or death. The presentation of the memorial 
 of Parma had terrified the Jesuits : Father Delci started in- 
 stantly for Leghorn, XJarrying off" the treasures of the Order, with 
 the intention of transporting them to England ; but the general, 
 who was less pusillanimous, stopped him in his flight. Ricci 
 perceived, from the opening of the conclave, that the danger 
 must be thenceforth met, and opposed by boldness : his activity 
 was called forth and redoubled, as if by miracle. During the 
 vacancy of the Holy See, Rome always presents a singular spec- 
 tacle ; the streets and squares are filled with comical and bur- 
 lesque sights, and the spirit of drollery finds its way even into 
 the corridors of the Vatican. In 1769, the position of the 
 Jesuits added a new feature to these scenes of excitement : 
 general attention was directed to Father Ricci, who was seen 
 everywhere hurrying about from place to place in a state of 
 anxiety and trouble — one while mingling in the numerous bodies 
 of the Guarda Nobile, the pompous escort of the dinners of the 
 cardinals, wliich are carried through the city in rich litters, — 
 
CHAP. III.] CONDUCT OF RICCI. 51 
 
 at another time mixing in the groups of the grave Traste- 
 verini, or the motley crowds of cattle-drivers and peasants 
 assembled from the Sabine territory, Tivoli, Albano, and e\'ery 
 part of the Pontine marshes, to witness the grand ceremony. 
 At daybreak Ricci was on foot, traversing every quarter of 
 the city from the Ponte-Mola to the basilica of the Lateran. 
 The Jesuits de considiration (so styled in a contemporary docu- 
 ment), imitating the example of their chief, were continually 
 engaged in paying visits to the confessors and friends of the 
 cardinals ; whilst, loaded with presents, they humbled themselves 
 at the feet of the Roman princes and ladies of rank. Nor was 
 all this attention superfluous : the current of public favour had 
 already been diverted from the Jesuits, and, amongst other fatal 
 prognostics, the Prince de Piombino, a partisan of Spain, had 
 withdrawn from the use of the General the carriage which his 
 family had for more than a century placed at his disposal. 
 Ricci, when admitted to the presence of the cardinals during the 
 few days preceding the final closing of the conclave, fell at 
 their feet in tears, and commended to their protection that 
 society which had been approved by so many pontiffs, and sanc- 
 tioned by a general council : he reminded the cardinals of his 
 services, and claimed the merit of these, without casting blame 
 upon any court or cabinet. Then, in an under tone, and in the 
 freedom of secret conference, he represented to the princes 
 of the church the indignity of the yoke which these courts 
 were attempting to impose upon them. He urged upon them, 
 as the only means of avoiding this disgrace, to proceed to an 
 immediate election, without awaiting the arrival of the French 
 and Spanish cardinals, and to compel them afterwards to kiss 
 the foot of a pope chosen without their concurrence. This 
 violent advice, which was supported by Torrigiani and the old 
 patron cardinal, found an echo in the Vatican. The Zelanti 
 vy^ere even on the point of carrying it into execution, and tlie 
 election of Chigi, one of their body, was only lost by a majority of 
 two. D'Aubeterre received timely information of these intrigues, 
 and defeated them by maintaining a calm and dignified attitude. 
 In public, in the saloons of the Roman nobles, he pretended to 
 disbelieve them, alleging that the Holy See could not pos- 
 sibly wish to commit an act of self-destruction ; but at the 
 
 F 2 
 
52 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. hi. 
 
 same time he wrote to Versailles to hasten the arrival of the 
 French cardinals.* 
 
 The complicated policy of the cabinet of Versailles reqrjred 
 the aid of able diplomatists at Rome. The conclaves have 
 always been the rock upon which the French have split : that 
 spirit of confidence, pushed to indiscretion, which is a trait in 
 the national character of the French, and springs from noble 
 qualities, is at Rome an unpardonable fault. The French diplo- 
 matists, carried away by the liveliness of their imagination, con- 
 tinually lose themselves in a labyrinth of intrigue ; and whilst 
 the Italian cardinals act in strict concert, those of France on 
 the contrary are always disunited. Surrounded wuth young 
 members of the conclave, ambitious, greedy of information, and 
 still more anxious to appear well informed themselves, the French 
 cardinals, thus exposed to observation, cannot contend on equal 
 terms with a system of continual dissimulation, engendered by a 
 selfish necessity ; for dissimulation is at Rome the standard by 
 w^hich a man's talents are measured, and without this quality the 
 highest talents would generally be little valued. In fact, let any 
 one consider the position of a Roman prelate at this period. 
 On the one hand, he had to satisfy his own court, which was 
 continually compromised between the different powers ; whilst, 
 on the other, he was under an equal necessity of keeping upon 
 good terms with these powers, v/hose veto might annihilate 
 him. Thus, as soon as his ambition was excited by the 
 prospect of obtaining the purple, he directly assumed a mask : 
 but no sooner had he attained the reward of all this patience, 
 than his character at once changed ; and the old porporati are 
 busied only in prying into secrets, in dissimulation, and in 
 defeating the views of the barbares^ w hom they are compelled to 
 acce])t as colleagues. 
 
 The choice of the French ministers naturally rested upon the 
 Cardinal de Bernis, who, after his fall, had retired to his diocese 
 of Alby, where in the discharge of his episcopal functions he 
 displayed virtues of which his youth had given little promise. 
 He distributed the greater portion of his revenue in alms, 
 retaining sufficient to support the outward dignity of his office. 
 Bernis was charitable and noble, and his conduct shed a greater 
 * D'Aubeterre to Choiseul : February, 1769. 
 
CHAP. III.] CARDINAL DE BERNIS. 53 
 
 lustre from the comparative retirement of his bishopric than from 
 the summit of his power. Louis XY. perceived this, and ex- 
 pressed his approbation to the friends of the cardinal : the latter 
 recollected that Bernis had already been minister of state : Choi- 
 seul understood them, and resolved to remove his former pro- 
 tector, lest he should become his rival. He was too prudent to 
 depreciate his merits ; but instead of doing this, he employed 
 them as a weapon against Bernis himself, extolling his diplomatic 
 talents to the king, and reminding him of his embassy to Venice, 
 which had been so agreeable to Benedict XIV. The favourable 
 opinion of such a pope was a strong recommendation to Bernis 
 at the court of Rome. Choiseul, with a view to engage him to 
 repair thither, offered him the place of the Marquis d' Aubeterre, 
 and Bernis promised Choiseul to procure the election of a 
 pope devoted to the interests of France. He repaired to Rome 
 with the full conviction that he should keep his word, for his 
 vanity whispered to him that the choice of the head of the 
 church was reserved for him : his colleague, the Cardinal de 
 Luynes, a man of very ordinary talents, hardly appeared to him 
 in the light of a coadjutor. Bernis entertained no doubt of 
 his success ; but, although at the bottom of his heart he regarded 
 his entrance into the conclave as a virtual assumption of its com- 
 mand, he had the good taste not to assume an indiscreet or 
 premature air of triumph, but to observe a temperate and modest 
 tone of language. Far from affecting the arrogance of a dic- 
 tator, he united all the graces of a courtier with an amiable and 
 conciliating exterior. Although he manifested occasionally the 
 superiority of his character, he never made a display of it : no 
 one could doubt for an instant his pretension to exercise an 
 unlimited influence, but he allowed this to appear so cautiously 
 as to give no grounds for reproach. " France has only the 
 desire," said he to his colleagues, " of seeing raised to the 
 papal throne a wise and temperate prince, who may entertain 
 the respect due to the great powers. The choice of the sacred 
 college can only rest upon virtue, since it sliines forth in 
 each one of its members ; but virtue is not alone sufficient. 
 Who could surpass Clement XIII. in religion and purity of 
 doctrine? His intentions were excellent, nevertheless during 
 his reigrn the church was disturbed and shaken to its centre. 
 
54 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. hi. 
 
 Let your Eminences restore concord between the Holy See and 
 the Catholic states, and bring back peace to Christendom, and 
 France will be content." This general spirit of benevolence 
 served as a veil to more precise instructions. Bernis was 
 charged to negotiate secretly the restoration of Avignon to 
 France ;* but all these objects were subordinate to that of 
 establishing a perfect understanding with the representatives 
 of Spain. The latter had not yet appeared, and Bernis took 
 advantage of their absence to secure an ascendancy by the 
 dignity and charm of his manners. His affability, which was 
 a little theatrical, but always winning, seemed to transport the 
 court of Louis XV. into the midst of the gloomy apartments of 
 the Vatican. At the same time he did not overlook the power 
 over public opinion which had its seat and centre at Ferney ; 
 and, in order to render his success complete and general, he 
 addressed some pretentious letters to that place. 
 
 Whilst all this was going on in the Papal Court, a young 
 and still more illustrious personage arrived suddenly at Eome, 
 — Joseph II. This was a great event : Rome retained a 
 reminiscence of the authority of the emperors, faintly reflected 
 from a past age, and acknowledged a supremacy which in fact 
 existed only in imagination, as no emperor had appeared within 
 her walls for more than two centuries. Charles V. had been 
 the last : he had made his entry in all the pomp of his triumph 
 of Tunis, clad in steel, and surrounded by those very bands who, 
 under the Constable of Bourbon, had just before brought deso- 
 lation and mourning into the metropolis of Christendom. Joseph 
 disdained ostentation, and appeared among the Romans with all 
 the studied and striking contrast of an incognito, of which he 
 was the inventor : his costume and manners, the absence of 
 all decoration, and the small number of his suite, appeared to 
 denote the Count of Falkenstein, the possessor of a small fief in 
 Alsatia. His brother, Leopold of Tuscany, accompanied him 
 in a similar disguise. Such unusual conduct on the part of a 
 monarch produced a marvellous effect : it was too novel to be 
 suspected of artifice, and was regarded as frank and sincere. 
 The contrast of so much simplicity with such power charmed no 
 
 "' Instructions to the Cardinals de LujTies and de Bernis: February 19, 
 1769. 
 
CEAP. ui.] JOSEPH II. 55 
 
 less than it astonished even' one, — it was like an unlooked-for 
 realization of the Utopia of Telemachus. The effect produced 
 upon the mind of Joseph was such, that it led him to pursue a 
 system which he afterwards carried to so great an extent. When 
 the first enthusiasm subsided, the Romans awaited anxiously to 
 see what side the emperor would take in the quarrel : the 
 slightest expressions that escaped him were seized and commented 
 on with avidity. Joseph took pleasure in baffling and misleading 
 all their conjectures ; his thoughts were already filled with pro- 
 jects of reform ; but, deterred as he was by the scruples of his 
 mother, he found amends for this restraint by censuring equally 
 the friends and enemies of the Jesuits. He affected not to com- 
 prehend how great sovereigns could attach such importance to a 
 monkish question, which only gave rise to pusillanimous appre- 
 hensions. At the same time he professed an extreme contempt 
 for the Jesuits, and gave them no reason to hope for his support. 
 IS'evertheless the Jesuits indulged this hope, until Joseph dis- 
 pelled the illusion in a visit of curiosity which he paid to the 
 Gran- Gesu, a house belonging to the Order, — a perfect marvel 
 of magnificence and bad tasle. The general approached the 
 emperor, prostrating himself before him with profound humi- 
 lity. Joseph, without giving him time to speak, asked him 
 coldly when he was going to relinquish his habit. Ricci turned 
 pale, and muttered a few inarticulate words ; he confessed that 
 the times were ver^^ hard for his brethren, but added that they 
 placed their trust in God and in the holy father, whose infalli- 
 bility- would be for ever compromised if he destroyed an Order 
 which had received the sanction and approval of his predecessors. 
 The emperor smiled, and, almost at the same moment, fixing his 
 eye upon the tabernacle, he stopped before the statue of St. 
 Ignatius, of massive silver and glittering with precious stones, and 
 exclaimed against the prodigious sum which it must have cost. 
 '' Sire," stammered the father-general, ••' this statue has been 
 erected with the money of the friends of the society." — " Say, 
 rather," replied Joseph, '' with the profits of the Indies." He 
 then departed, leaving the fathers in the utmost grief and 
 dejection. 
 
 "With the intention of humiliating the pope and the Bourbons 
 at the same time, Joseph continued to expostulate against tiie 
 
^^ THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. in. 
 
 importance attached to the election of a new pope, which he con- 
 sidered to be an affair of no moment, and unworthy to occupy the 
 attention of a monarch of the eighteenth century. At the same 
 time, in order to prove his disinterestedness, he prohibited his 
 minister, the Cardinal Pozzo-Bonelli, from either supportino^ or 
 opposing any candidate. ^ 
 
 So offensive an indifference, or rather disrespect, could not 
 escape the attention of the sacred college. Joseph and Maria 
 Theresa were the only Catholic sovereigns of the first rank who 
 had hitherto had no serious quarrel with Rome. The cardinals 
 with a view to give a favourable turn to the precarious intimacy 
 of their court with the emperor, resolved to pay him unusual 
 honour ; they overlooked the secular etiquette which closes the 
 conclave to the highest princes, and entreated Joseph to attend 
 Its meeting: in consequence he did so, accompanied by the Grand 
 Duke Leopold. All the cardinals went in procession to meet 
 them, and one of the most distinguished members of the sacred 
 college, who in public estimation held the highest rank. Cardinal 
 Stoppani, took Joseph by the hand and introduced him to the 
 conclave. The emperor, according to custom, was about to lay 
 aside his sword ; but with one consent the cardinals requested 
 him to retain the weapon, which they declared was the defence 
 and guard of the Holy See. Then they all surrounded him, and 
 proffered him an expression of attachment and respect, whilst 
 Albani, who was devoted to Austria, even feigned to weep with 
 joy at the sight. Joseph received these extraordinary advances 
 with polite coldness. He flattered the self-esteem of Bernis by 
 addressing him in a marked manner; whilst on the contrary, 
 when Torrigiani was presented, he merely observed, " I have 
 heard much of you." But his first object was to inquire for the 
 Cardinal of York. " Le voici," answered the grandson of 
 James II. ; '^ I am the cardinal whom your imperial majesty is 
 pleased to honour with his remembrance." Joseph saluted the 
 last of the Stuarts with a marked expression of feature, and 
 requested to be admitted to his cell. - It is very small for your 
 Highness," said the emperor, after visiting it:— in truth, White- 
 hall was larger. 
 
 When the emperor was about to take leave of the cardinals, 
 their demonstrations of respect increased. '' Sire," cried they, 
 
CHAP. III.] COOL TREATxMENT OF THE EMPEROR. .57 
 
 " we trust that your imperial Majesty will protect the new 
 pope, that he may put an end to the troubles of the cliurch." 
 The emperor replied, that the power to accomplish this rested 
 with tlieir Eminences, by choosing a pope who should imitate 
 Benedict XIV. , and not require too much ; that the spiritual 
 authority of the pope was incontestable, but that he ought to be 
 satisfied with this ; and that, above all, in treating with sove- 
 reigns, he ought never to forget himself so far as to violate 
 the rules of policy and good breeding. After giving this advice, 
 the emperor took leave of the cardinals, declining the fetes 
 which had been prepared, and started the same night for 
 ]N'aples.* 
 
 Undoubtedly despair alone brought the sacred college to bend 
 thus before temporal princes, but necessity exposed them to 
 humiliation. The conclave lasted nearly three months. The 
 old cardinals, shut up in their cells, could not longer endure 
 so protracted and fruitless a seclusion, and they recollected 
 with horror that Lambertini's election had lasted six months. 
 Some of them were almost decrepid, for in this important con- 
 test neither age nor infirmities could abate the ardour of party 
 spirit. The fanatical old bishop of Viterbo, Oddi, ninety years 
 of age, and Conti, the enemy of the Jesuits, who was already 
 seized with a fatal disease, were both carried to the conclave. 
 
 The impatience of the cardinals increased ; every morning 
 they repaired to the scrutiny with a firm resolution to close it ; 
 but Lacerda and Solis, the plenipotentiaries of Spain, had re- 
 tarded their journey. In order to shorten their route, they 
 had at first announced their intention of going to Italy by sea, 
 which created great joy in the Vatican ; but this was soon 
 succeeded by an equal disappointment, when the report came 
 that Solis and Lacerda, on reaching the port of Carthagena, 
 being seized with a childish fear of the noise of the waves, had 
 
 * All the details relative to the visit of the Emperor to the Vatican and 
 to the Gran-Gesu "svere given by that prince himself to the Marquis d'Aube- 
 terre, the French ambassador. Joseph enlarged complacently on his con- 
 temptuous policy to'wards the Holy See, and declared, in plain terms, that 
 he knew the Court of Home too well not to despise it, and thought very little 
 of his admission to the conclave. " These people," said he, speaking of the 
 Cardinals, " tried to impress vpon me the value of this distinction, hut I am 
 not their dupe. Tliey wanted to examine me with curious attention, as they 
 would have done a rhinoceros." 
 
58 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. hi. 
 
 turned back and resolved to make a land journey to Rome. 
 The heat began to be seriously felt. The Bourbon courts had 
 objected to more than thirty candidates, and the circle of those 
 eligible became narrower every day. These numerous exclu- 
 sions were illegal, as each of the powers was entitled to only 
 one veto ; but the cardinals (such was at that time the state of 
 the Court of Rome) considered themselves obliged to respect 
 them en masse. The delay of the Spanish cardinals paralyzed 
 the whole of the proceedings, and their colleagues were mean- 
 while placed in great embarrassment, and irritated by an affront 
 which was tlie more galling as it admitted of no pretext or 
 excuse. 
 
 France, during tliis interval, might have dictated the course 
 to be followed by the conclave, and satisfied the king of Spain 
 without the concurrence of her agents. D'Aubeterre advised 
 this course ; but Bernis, who was of a more ostentatious than 
 energetic disposition, preferred outward homage to the substantial 
 exercise of power. Moreover, it must not be forgotten that this 
 affair was of secondary importance in the eyes of the Duke de 
 Choiseul, and that by yielding a blind deference to the theological 
 opinions of the king of Spain, he obtained the quiet acquiescence 
 of that monarch in all European questions of peace or war. The 
 plan of the court of Madrid was to bind the future pope by a 
 promise, written and signed, to abolish the Order of the Jesuits : 
 it appealed to the example of Clement V. and the Templars. 
 The election of the candidate depended upon this. When urged 
 by D'Aubeterre to anticipate the wishes of Charles III., Bernis 
 drew back ; his conscience became alarmed, and he declared such 
 an enterprise to be not only impracticable, but useless. He 
 uro'ed that nothin": could secure the execution of such an 
 engagement; that a cardinal who was capable of pledging 
 himself beforehand to such a contract would dishonour his 
 future pontificate, as evervthing must ultimately come to light. 
 D'Aubeterre, the ambassador of France, and the prelate Azpuru, 
 minister of Spain, attempted to overcome the scruples of 
 Bernis, by arguing that their project had obtained the appro- 
 bation of the most enlightened cardinals. Bernis was struck 
 by their importunity, and, being unwilling to incur their enmity, 
 he promised to reflect upon the subject, and to consult a person 
 
CHAP. III.] CARDINAL GANGANELLI. 59 
 
 deeply versed in the canons of the church, one of the heads of 
 the sacred college : he named the Cardinal Ganganelli. 
 
 We pause at this name ; and before proceeding with our narra- 
 tive, let us revert to the obscure life of this man, who was never- 
 theless destined, for a time at least, to attract the attention of 
 all Europe. Lorenzo Ganganelli was born in the town of San 
 Archangelo, on the 31st of October, 1705, of a plebeian family. 
 His father w^as a labourer, or, according to others, a country 
 surgeon.* He entered on a monastic life at an early age, and 
 with sincerity of heart ; indeed, his whole character was in ac- 
 cordance with a contemplative life. Solitude, which has only 
 a corrupting influence upon many, suited Ganganelli ; nor did 
 the cloister stamp his character with misanthropy or morose- 
 ness. Although he devoted himself exclusively to the study 
 of theology, and was firm in the faith and in every dogma of 
 the church, he was never fanatical. His character, even more 
 than his mental acquirements, had imbued him with a spirit of 
 tolerance, and his mind was open to every tranquil and in- 
 genuous impression. His features, although of a somewhat 
 ordinary caste, were full of suavity, and truly reflected the 
 temper of his mind. His heart was alive to friendship, and his 
 attachment to a poor Cordelier, named Francesco, remained 
 through life unshaken. He was also an admirer of the charms 
 of nature : natural history and botany especially occupied his 
 leisure, and he would often pass whole hours in dissecting an 
 insect or a flower, or in wandering in the woods with a book in 
 his hand. Ganganelli was both ingenuous and ambitious ; his 
 ambition was ardent, profound, inveterate, but at the same time 
 full of good -nature, and characterized by a mysterious reliance 
 on the future. Kor is this to be wondered at : those who have 
 studied human nature, know well tlie fact, tliat contradictory 
 qualities are not necessarily inconsistent. Ganganelli believed 
 himself destined by Providence to fulfil a remarkable career, and 
 from infancy this dazzling object was always present to his 
 thoughts. He maintained through life a self-reliance, and a firm 
 trust in his destiny. AYhen his parents endeavoured to divert 
 
 * Caraccioli, -who is followed by the Biurjruphie UniverseUe, says that 
 Ganganelli was descended from a noble family. This is quite untrue: 
 Ganganelli was a plebeian by birth. 
 
GO THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. hi. 
 
 him from a monastic life, he reminded them that the monk's 
 frock had frequently preceded the purple, and that the two last 
 Popes Sixtus had risen from the order of St. Francis. The 
 name of Sixtus V. was always present to his mind, in every 
 turn of fortune. In Italy nothing can exceed the popularity of 
 this name, which flatters the feelings of democratic pride in the 
 highest degree. The goat-herd of the Abruzzi, and the labourer 
 of the Sabine fields, reflect with pride that the haughtiest of the 
 pontiffs was born in beggary, a peasant and a swineherd. Gan- 
 ganelli was all his life a monk and a man of the people ; no 
 one indeed ever bore the stamp of Sixtus V. so strongly im- 
 pressed on his character. The vague hope of his future ad- 
 vancement was fostered in his mind by predictions and presages, 
 to which his ear was ever open ; and, whatever his panegyrists 
 may say, it may be shown from their own statements that 
 he had formed the resolution to attain the summit of his am- 
 bition. The dignity of general of his Order oflfered itself; but 
 he unhesitatingly rejected so mean a temptation, whilst, under 
 the cloak of humility, he secretly cherished widely difi'erent 
 projects. It cannot be denied that Ganganelli at first accepted, 
 and even courted, the protection of the Jesuits. The general of 
 that Order commended him to the nephew of the pope : Clement 
 XIII. conferred on him the purple, and this single fact attests 
 the influence which the society possessed, for Clement never 
 took any step without consulting them. Upon the news of his 
 promotion, Ganganelli threw himself at the feet of Rezzonico, 
 beseeching him to confer the dignity on one more worthy ; but 
 he had the secret satisfaction of receiving a refusal, accompanied 
 with an expression of displeasure. Notwithstanding his eleva- 
 tion, Ganganelli preserved his former simple habits : pomp and 
 ceremony were less to his taste than a frugal meal, long rides 
 into the campagna of Rome, the friendship of Francesco, the 
 visits of a few well-informed strangers, and, above all, the quiet 
 conversation of the fathers of the convent of the Holy Apostles. 
 He was glad to possess the reality of power, but he never loved 
 its pomp. These tranquil enjoyments, however, did not turn his 
 attention from pursuing an assiduous and even crooked line of 
 policy. His interest, conspiring M'ith his prudence, led him to 
 censure the resistance of the court of Rome, whilst he extolled 
 
CHAP. III.] CARDINAL GANGANELLI. 61 
 
 the power of the sovereigns. " Their arms are very long," he 
 often said ; " they reach beyond the Alps and Pyrenees." 
 
 Ganganelli did not hesitate to abandon the Jesuits and secretly 
 join the party of the sovereigns. In the congregations he 
 uttered (but with caution) opinions favourable to the princes, 
 and the Duke of Parma found in him a discreet but sure sup- 
 porter. The timidity of his political measures was compensated 
 by an extensive and mysterious correspondence. Ganganelli 
 wrote secretly to Father Castan, a member of his own order, 
 who had retired to Avignon and devoted himself to intrigue. 
 This monk had recommended him to Jarente, bishop of Orleans, 
 who held the list of livings in the French king's gift. JS^ever- 
 theless, at the time when the conclave met, the instructions from 
 Versailles were not in favour of Ganganelli. All the historians 
 assert the contrary, but erroneously. The cardinal was indeed 
 mentioned in the list of bons sujets ; that is to say, of persons 
 who would not be unacceptable to the Bourbons ; but his name, 
 among many others, was accompanied with notes of reserva- 
 tion. France indeed, so far from preferring him to the rest of 
 the candidates, suspected him of intrigue and duplicity ; nor 
 was Ganganelli's conduct in the conclave calculated to remove 
 this impression. He had previously been on intimate terms with 
 the French cardinals, and apparently attached to their interests ; 
 but during the whole sitting of the conclave he affected to 
 shun them, remaining shut up in his cell, and avoiding his col- 
 leagues w ith a reserve which might easily be attributed to secret 
 ambition. No one probably imagined, during the first few 
 days of the conclave, the chance of Ganganelli's being elected 
 to the throne : it is doubtful whether Bernis had a presentiment 
 of it from the mysterious compact proposed by Spain. As he 
 was himself averse to that measure, the French cardinal could 
 not present it in an engaging point of view ; perhaps he even 
 betrayed his own repugnance, which forced the Italian to reject 
 it wdth indignation. Be this as it may, Bernis and Luynes per- 
 sisted in their scruples, and imparted them to Louis XV., who 
 always yielded to dogmatical reasons the respect which he refused 
 to moral arguments. 
 
 Time passed on, and the negotiation did not advance. The 
 Spanish cardinals were alone able to bring' it to a close, and at 
 
62 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. hi. 
 
 length they arrived. They conceded to Bernis all the external 
 show of influence, and flattered his vanity by a marked deference, 
 while at the same time they resolved to act without his privity. 
 Under the guidance of able conclavists, they observed at once the 
 ostentation and weakness of their colleague's character, and they 
 also detected lurking in his heart a secret pity for the Jesuits. 
 This feeling, they saw, had not escaped the observation of the 
 Zelanti^ who had been emboldened by it. They therefore resolved 
 to cajole Bernis, and at first secretly thwarted his negotiation to 
 annex Avignon to France, pretending that the qviestion regard- 
 ing the Jesuits should be treated separately, as the intervention 
 of any other affair endangered the success of the principal one. 
 Finally they left Bernis to seek a candidate ; and after obtaining 
 private information of the disposition and purposes of Gan- 
 ganelli, they entered into a secret negotiation with that cardinal. 
 Solis, remaining shut up in his cell, corresponded privately with 
 Ganganelli, who never quitted his apartment ; whilst the latter, 
 in his turn, communicated with Albani, the head of the faction 
 of the Zela?iti. At the time that these two cardinals were 
 secretly concerting this great intrigue, the poet-cardinal was 
 displaying all his court airs and graces, and receiving the com- 
 pliments of the sacred college : in an eff'usion of vanity he com- 
 placently exclaimed, " The cardinals of France had never greater 
 power than in this conclave !" 
 
 Nevertheless Bernis had considerable talent, and began at 
 length to suspect some underhand proceedings ; but the adroit 
 replies of the Spanish cardinals disarmed his suspicion ; they 
 amused him by a false show of confidence, and continued their 
 negotiations. Every authentic record testifies to the fact that 
 Ganganelli aspired ardently to the tiara. He was of a good- 
 natured, easy, and conciliatory disposition, an admirer of Benedict 
 XIV., and desirous of reviving the cherished memory of that 
 pontiff: he loved the arts, and wished to patronise them. The 
 idea of bestowing- his benediction from St. Peter's was the highest 
 attraction to a priest, whilst the thought of living amidst the 
 great works of art in the Vatican had scarcely less charms for him 
 as an Italian. Clement XIII. had very nearly provoked schisms, 
 and Ganganelli designed to restore concord between Rome and 
 the sovereigns of Europe. This was a noble object, and might 
 
CHAP. III.] GAXGANELLI AND BERNIS. G3 
 
 influence such a mind as Ganganelli's, but it is questionable 
 whether the means which he employed to accomplish it were 
 equally worthy. Is it true that he entered into solemn engage- 
 ments against the Jesuits? that, as the condition of liis election, 
 lie yielded to the solicitation of the Spanish cardinals, and gave 
 them a document in his own hand-writing, Avhich, without for- 
 mally involving the promise of destroying the institution, held 
 out this expectation ? Is it true that this note was conceived in 
 such terms as the following: — I admit that the sovereign pontiff 
 may in conscience abolish the society of the Jesuits, still main- 
 taining the canonical regulations^ Upon these questions we 
 shall offer no reply. 
 
 The unanimity of the votes, however, which seemed to be 
 fixing upon Ganganelli, excited violent suspicions in the mind of 
 Bernis. The French cardinal hastened to get at the truth ; and, 
 although it was clear that he had been deceived, he wished at 
 least to save appearances. The Spaniards willingly allowed him 
 to play this specious part, which so well suited the ostentation 
 of his manners. Bernis repaired to the future pope, and hoped 
 to mislead him bv makins: a boast of having; influenced the votes 
 in his favour. To this fiction Ganoanelli lent a willino; ear, 
 and expressed the greatest professions of gratitude to France 
 and to her minister. It may be imagined that this excess 
 of dissimulation caused him some embarrassment, and he had 
 undoubtedly some difficulty in expressing his pretended grati- 
 tude, which he conveyed in these strange words : "I bear," 
 said he, "Louis XY. in my heart and the Cardinal de Bernis in 
 my right hand." He accompanied these words with a studied 
 protestation of his unworthiness, and even stammered out a sort 
 of refusal. Bernis did not trouble himself to reply to these pro- 
 fessions of humility ; but, with the tone of a man who is called 
 upon to decide the fate of the church, he requested to know 
 distinctly the cardinal's intentions with respect to the Jesuits 
 and the Infant of Parma. On the latter point, Ganganelli 
 answered in the most satisfactory manner ; he promised not only 
 to grant a reconciliation to the Infant, but himself to consecrate 
 his approaching marriage in the basilica of St. Peter's. AVith 
 regard to tlie Jesuits, being doubtless acquainted with tlie secret 
 thoughts of Bernis, he admitted the utility of their abolition, but 
 
64 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [cuap. hi. 
 
 urged the necessity of proceeding in it with caution. Upon 
 being pressed by Eernis, who fancied himself called upon to 
 demand the immediate destruction of the society by a coup cVetat, 
 he begged him to keep his mind easy, and to believe that the 
 future pope, when once enthroned, would not be satisfied with 
 mere words. In short, Ganganelli promised to Bernis all that 
 he desired ; he even held out the possibility of the restoration of 
 Avignon to France, and pledged himself to appoint such persons 
 to the highest places in the ecclesiastical state as the court of 
 Versailles should recommend. 
 
 Bernis, now imagining himself sure of having obtained all he 
 required, hastened to the Cardinal Pozzo-Bonelli, who had re- 
 ceived the secret intentions of Austria. That Court had mani- 
 fested an affected indiiference as to the result of this long contest : 
 its representative now immediately gave in his adhesion to the 
 choice of Ganganelli. Albani and Rezzonico, the heads of the 
 1. Jesuit party, and Orsini, the Neapolitan cardinal, likewise re- 
 paired to Pozzo-Bonelli ; and no sooner had Bernis spoken, than 
 the cardinals, assembled in college, proceeded to kiss the hand of 
 the pope elect. Ganganelli received their homage, and, after 
 a purely formal scrutiny, Clement XIV. was proclaimed sove- 
 reign pontiff.* Thus terminated this memorable conclave, 
 which, in the absence of official documents, has always been 
 represented in a false light. 
 
 * As a sequel to the superstitious reverence whidi Gauganelli paid to the 
 memory of Sixtus V., he wished to have adopted the name of Sixtus VI. ; 
 but his friends dissuaded him, by representing that such an assumption 
 was somewhat ambitious, and they persuaded him to continue the name of 
 Clement, which was borne by the author of his fortune. 
 
CHAP. IV.] ACCESSION OF GANGAXELLI. 65 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Negotiations— The Cardinal de Bernis— The Count de Florida Blanca— 
 Letter of Suppression— Clement XIV. dies poisoned. 
 
 Gaxgaxelli had at length attained the summit of his ambition 
 (1769). His accession was the signal for a general burst of the 
 most joyous and unequivocal enthusiasm, whilst France and 
 Spain claimed the honour of having elected him. Satisfied with 
 his popularity, and strengthened by the support of the Catholic 
 powers, Ganganelli might very naturally fancy himself destined 
 to heal the wounds of the church : on the day of his coronation 
 his features were radiant with joy, and he gave way to all his 
 natural gaiety. Upon entering the basilica of the Vatican, his 
 eye fell upon a stone on which he had once stood, when a simple 
 monk, to see the cortege of Pope Rezzonico pass by. '-Look," 
 said he, pointing it out to one of his suite, ••' from that stone I 
 was driven ten years ago." One of the biographers of Clement 
 XIV., Caraccioli, asserts that he slept so soundly on the night 
 of his accession, that his attendants had great difficulty to 
 awaken him : this is making a boast of his humility at the ex- 
 pense of his reason : such a sleep under such circumstances 
 would have been a mere sluggish stupor. What a manner of 
 passing so solemn a night ! — a time when his mind must natu- 
 rally have been filled and troubled with serious and solemn feel- 
 ings. He had indeed attained the position which he had so long 
 coveted ; but what course was he now to take ? how was he 
 to redeem the pledge he had imprudently given, but which 
 was not the less binding upon him ? How could he suppress the 
 Jesuits, or how save them ? If he braved the resentment of the 
 greatest princes in Europe, he would drive them to schism, 
 perhaps into heresy. Was he to expose the Holy See to lose 
 not only the possession of Benevento and Avignon, but also 
 the filial obedience of Portugal, France, and Spain ? On the 
 
 V 
 
66 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. iv. 
 
 other hand, how could he abolish an Order which had been 
 sanctioned and approved by so many pontiffs, and regarded as 
 the bulwark of the church, as the shield of the faith ? Reflec- 
 tions such as these must have filled the thoughts of Clement 
 XIV., and driven sleep from his pillow ; from the very first, 
 indeed, so far from displaying that firmness and even obstinacy 
 which his enemies and friends alike attribute to him, he resolved 
 to temporise, to amuse the princes with promises, and to restrain 
 the Jesuits by premeditated doubts, — in a word, to elude the 
 danger instead of braving it. From that day, he devoted his 
 thoughts to all the artifices which weakness and timidity could 
 sunfS'est. 
 
 Insurmountable obstacles opposed the execution of this pro- 
 ject, which was in fact rather the absence of any project. 
 Spain and France demanded authoritatively the immediate 
 suppression of the Order ; and Clement, in order to ward off 
 their attack, redoubled his flattery and court to the two 
 crowns ; especially sparing no pains to play upon the vanity of 
 Bernis, who succeeded the Marquis d'Aubeterre. AYhen the 
 cardinal went to pay his respects to the pope, the latter would 
 not accept from him the customary homage : he forbade his 
 genuflexions, repeatedly offered him his snuff-box, and even com- 
 pelled him to be seated in his presence. Bernis retired with 
 every mark of profound respect ; but Clement replied in a 
 familiar tone, " We are alone, and no person sees us ; let us 
 dispense with etiquette, and resume the old equality of the car- 
 dinalate." A few days afterwards, when Bernis presented a 
 letter from Louis XV., Clement seized and kissed it with trans- 
 port, exclaiming, " I owe all to France ! Providence has chosen 
 me among the people, like St. Peter, and the House of Bourbon 
 has, under Providence, been the means of raising me to the chair 
 of the prince of the apostles. Providence, too, has permitted," 
 he added, embracing Bernis, " that you should be the minister 
 of the king at the papal court : all these unlooked for cir- 
 cumstances seem to assure me of the protection of Heaven, 
 which has granted me the support of such powerful princes. I 
 place an unlimited confidence in you, my dear cardinal : let 
 there be no indirect intercourse, no mystery between us. I 
 shall communicate everything to you, and do nothing without 
 
caAP. IT.] CHOISEUL TO BEllXIS. C7 
 
 consulting- you. Fear not that I shall follow the example of 
 some of my predecessors, and employ other means than those of 
 truth and good faith. You will always be the judge of this, 
 for I shall never refer you to my Secretary of State, and I re- 
 quest you beforehand at all times to address me directly. " 
 
 These assurances excited the vanity of Bernis, and he fancied 
 himself master of Ivome. The pope carefully kept up this 
 illusion, and took advantage of the cardinal's weakness to make 
 him an accomplice in his dilatory system. Thus Bernis was 
 continually writing to his court, praying the king to sanction 
 the delays which the dignity of the pope rendered necessary, and 
 which he represented to be inevitable in matters affecting eccle- 
 siastical discipline.* Charles III. was of an ardent and impatient 
 disposition : on the contrary, the natural coldness of Louis XY. 
 appeared to increase ; his devotional prejudices and his con- 
 tinual fits of remorse inspired him with great indulgence for the 
 pope. The zeal of the Duke de Choiseul also, who was disgusted 
 with so long and tedious a negotiation, began to abate : he was 
 not deceived, like Bernis, as to the motives of Clement XI Y., 
 and even exag-oerated in his own mind the artifices which he 
 attributed to perfidy ; but he had grown careless as to the issue 
 of a contest which he had himself originally provoked, and, 
 appearing to forget the part he had taken in the affair, he no 
 longer concealed in his despatches his weariness and disdain. 
 '•' I M ill finish the history of the Jesuits," he wrote to Bernis, 
 " by placing before you a picture which, I think. Mill strike you. 
 I doubt whether it was a prudent measure to expel the Jesuits 
 from France and Spain ; but they are now driven from the states 
 of the House of Bourbon. I deem it a still more imprudent step, 
 after these monks were expelled, to have adopted open measures 
 for the suppression of the Order, and published those measures to 
 the whole of Europe. This step is taken, and the result is that the 
 kings of France, Spain, and Xaples are now at open war with the 
 Jesuits and their partisans. Will they be suppressed, or will 
 they not ? Will the sovereigns carry their point, or will the 
 Jesuits obtain the victory ? This is the question which is now 
 stirring the cabinets of Europe, and has become the source of 
 intrigues, squabbles, and disputes in all the Catholic courts. In 
 
 * Bernis to Choiseul, in a great number of despatches. 
 
68 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. iv. 
 
 truth, one cannot regard this picture with indifference, or without 
 feeling the indecency of such a state of things ; and were I 
 ambassador at Rome, I should be ashamed to see Father Eicci 
 the antagonist of my master."* Thus, with a fickleness which 
 is quite inconceivable, Choiseul censured a measure of which he 
 was himself the author ! The pope, in requesting time, found 
 therefore some support at the court of Versailles ; and at the 
 same time the kins^ of France undertook to calm the ansfer of 
 his cousin of Spain, who, from a deference to the family com- 
 pact, consented, though reluctantly, to an adjournment of the 
 question. 
 
 Clement XIV. now breathed again ; at the bottom of his 
 heart he took great credit to himself for his adroit policy, and 
 entertained the secret hope of finding fresh pretexts for an 
 indefinite delay. This moment of illusion was the happiest, 
 indeed the only happy one, of his pontificate ; he enjoyed it 
 with a kind of transport ; the gaiety of his character came forth 
 again unconstrained, and all who were near him at that time 
 observed in his conduct no trace of a morose monk, nor of an 
 upstart to power, inflated Avith the j^ride of newly acquired 
 authority, but a good honest priest, of irreproachable morals, 
 and whose society was full of charm. His elevation had in no 
 decree altered his manners : with all the calmness of a disinte- 
 rested spectator he looked back upon the immense stride he had 
 made in power and rank ; he recalled the humility of his early 
 years, and the arduous commencement of his career, and spoke 
 of this frequently, too frequently perhaps ; for it imparted to his 
 conversation more charm than dignity. AYith an apparent bene- 
 volence towards all, he conferred favour upon none : the sacred 
 college, although graciously received by the pope, had no 
 share in his confidence. Clement's discretion was proof against 
 any attack, and the justice which was rendered him on this 
 point flattered him singularly. But he carried this virtue to 
 excess : fancying himself capable of executing all his designs 
 alone, he allowed no one to share his labours, and thus wasted 
 his time upon details too minute and insignificant to engage the 
 attention of a sovereign. However, as a man cannot live 
 
 * Letter of die Duke de Choiseul to the Cardinal de Bernis : Compiegne, 
 August 20, 1769. 
 
CHAP. IV.] IRRESOLUTE CONDUCT OF GANGANELLI. C9 
 
 alone and shut up within himself, he extended his confidence ro 
 inferior subalterns, whilst he denied it to persons of higher 
 station. The impressions made on his mind during- his 
 monastic life had retained considerable influence over him, 
 and his friendship for Brother Francesco was unabated. 
 On the shores of the lake of Albano, and in the arbours of 
 Castel-Gandolfo, the sovereign pontiff used to pass whole 
 hours with this old companion of his youth. Francesco was his 
 friend, his major-domo and his cook, and Clement never touched 
 any food but the dishes prepared by his hand. Francesco had 
 neither learning nor any knowledge of mankind ; nevertheless, in 
 conjunction with another priest, Father Buontempi, he exercised 
 a great influence over liis master. He surrounded him with 
 persons unknown to him, but who were devoted to his interest. 
 Ganganelli delighted to live amongst them, and was never happy 
 but when in the midst of those who had formerly been his equals. 
 It will be seen that this opened a secret channel of influence, 
 which it was the policy of the Jesuits to take advantage of, and 
 their efforts were aided by the sacred college and the nobles. 
 But the cardinals and princes were deprived of all means of 
 communicating directly with the pope, and to obtain access to 
 him, they relied on the adroitness of the Society, which had always 
 possessed the art of connecting the high classes with their pri- 
 vate interests. In the palaces of Rome the Jesuits were the 
 intendants of the husbands, the instructors of the children, the 
 directors of the wives ; at every table, in all the conversazioni ^ 
 a Jesuit exercised a despotic authority. Their triumph secured 
 that of the nobles. The pope, however, gave little heed to 
 their advances ; he did not receive them in public, and in private 
 he merely returned evasive answers, which carried them by turns 
 from hope to fear, and from discouragement to hope. Ganganelli 
 endeavoured to play the same game with the sovereigns ; and 
 this illusory feeling of security gave him a short-lived happiness, 
 and added another charm in his eyes to the beautiful scenes of 
 Albano. But the illusion was of short duration ; scarcely had 
 Ganganelli returned to Rome, v/hen he perceived that he had 
 vainly cherished a hope of passing the remainder of his life on 
 the shore of an enchanted lake in easy listlessness, holding tlie 
 balance between the Jesuits and the sovereigns, and by turns 
 
70 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. Tchap. iv. 
 
 lulling their suspicions by promises, continually repeated but 
 never fulfilled. 
 
 The importunity of the King of Spain, who was restless under 
 so protracted a suspense, increased, and he even went so far as to 
 hold out a menace. The Jesuits on their side had recourse to 
 similar means : persuasion had failed, and they now" resorted to 
 intimidation. It did not require all the perspicacity they pos- 
 sessed to understand the character of Ganganelli : a single day 
 was sufficient to reveal it to them. The day of his accession was 
 destined to be that of their ruin ; they expected this, and were re- 
 signed to meet the peril. Ganganelli hesitated ; and from that 
 instant the society despised an enemy, who, possessing the power 
 and will to annihilate their Order, failed to accomplish his pur- 
 pose. The Jesuits spared no pains to insinuate, by degrees, a feel- 
 ing of fear into the mind of Clement. At first they represented 
 to him the danger of irritating the sacred college and the nobles : 
 they then alleged the necessity of conciliating the courts of 
 Austria and Sardinia, who honoured the Society with their pro- 
 tection ; but, as the menaces of Spain, seconded by France, out- 
 weighed these minor considerations, it was necessary to resort to 
 arguments of a personal nature, and to intimidate Ganganelli, 
 not on the ground of his political power, but for his life. Sur- 
 rounded as he was by treachery, he could not resist these im- 
 pressions : his gaiety of disposition soon disappeared, his health 
 became affected, the signs of extreme uneasiness were stamped 
 upon his features, he courted solitude with fresh ardour, and 
 was more than ever anxious that all the dishes of his table 
 sliould be prepared by old Francesco, the companion of his early 
 
 davs. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the messages from Charles III. became 
 more frequent and urgent, whilst Choiseul, out of courtesy to 
 Spain, seconded them strongly. Thus placed between two rocks, 
 which were equally dangerous, Clement endeavoured to soothe 
 the anger and impatience of the sovereigns. All his hope 
 w^as in the Cardinal de Bernis, who had acquired a high repu- 
 tation at Rome by the diirnity and affability of his manners, and 
 the almost regal magnificence of his establishment. The pope, 
 from the first, had paid him great attention and respect, which 
 afterwards grew into confidence, and Bernis responded to this 
 
CHAP. iv.J GANGANELLI REGRETS BEING MADE POPE. 71 
 
 with warm sympathy. Gangaiielli had studied to anticipate even 
 the slightest wishes of the French cardinal ; he had granted him 
 unhesitatingly a number of minor favours, such as dispensations, 
 secularizations, reductions of the fees in the datary's office, &c. 
 This condescension claimed some return, and the moment was 
 arrived for Bernis to testif}^ his gratitude. The pope endea- 
 voured in every way to conciliate the favour of the Bourbons, 
 without involving- himself in the measures of vensreance wliich 
 they demanded should be taken on the Jesuits. One while he 
 asserted the di2:nitv of his office, which neither could nor ous^ht 
 ever to yield to force ; at anot;her time he alleged the necessity 
 of deep reflection, before engaging in a measure of such im- 
 portance. Closeted with Marefuschi and others profoundly 
 versed in canonical matters, he called for and examined the 
 books and documents relating to the society ; and, to gain time, 
 he even sent to Spain for the correspondence of Philip II. with 
 Charles V. Then, after exhausting all these means, he involved 
 himself in a labyrinth of frivolous excuses : he pretended to 
 fear the resentment of Maria Theresa and other Catholic sove- 
 reigns ; he even appealed to governments whicli were separated 
 from the Church of Rome, — Prussia and Eussia ; and lastly, 
 he promised to expel the Jesuits when he had obtained the coji- 
 sent of all the courts, M-ithout exception. This measure, which 
 necessarily involved extreme delay and difficulty, favoured liis 
 weakness, since he hoped to extricate himself from his embar- 
 rassment by this very means. Other expedients, equally un- 
 acceptable, presented themselves to him : he promised not to 
 appoint any successor to Ricci, to admit no more into the no- 
 viciate, and he even talked of convoking a council to depute the 
 settlement of this important question to himself. All these 
 propositions ended with the word reform. Such was the em- 
 barrassing position in which Clement was placed : in his inter- 
 views with Bernis, the cardinal endeavoured to revive his 
 courage, and even reproached him gently. "Alas!" exclaimed 
 the pope in his distress, " I was not born to occupy the throne : 
 I become more and more aware of this truth every day. Pardon 
 a poor monk the faults which he has contracted in solitude !" 
 And then, with a kind of naivete, he added, " I believe it to be 
 impossible for a monk to throw off entirely the spirit that attaches 
 
72 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. iv. 
 
 to the cowL"*/ Bernis was unable to reply : he perceived, from 
 what Ganganelli said, that his heart was deeply moved. Whilst 
 the pope was exhausting- every resource of political arguments, 
 the dread of poison haunted his thoughts ; and Bernis, moved 
 by compassion, and especially flattered to see a sovereign weeping 
 in his arms — a pope all but prostrate at his feet, instead of 
 a^iimating Clement and combating his weakness, merely pitied 
 and sympathized with him. Bernis entered at once into his 
 views, and justified them to the French minister : he was de- 
 lighted to exercise a kind of patronage over the holy father, and 
 begged Choiseul to leave him entirely to his care, promising 
 in his intercourse with Clement XIV., to lavish upon him 
 that flattering attention whose persuasive power he considered 
 irresistible. He represented this to be the only way to obtain 
 anything from tlie pope ; whereas any resort to violent mea- 
 sures would only render him contemptible, injure his health, 
 and perhaps even endanger his life. On the contrary, by 
 leaving him to the persuasive influences of Bernis, it was 
 certain that he would yield sooner or later. In this manner, 
 whilst the cardinal was studying to gain a command over the 
 pope, he kept alive his indecision. It is true that, at the same 
 time, he advised the French court to abandon their demand 
 for the suppression of the Jesuits, and, instead, to insist upon 
 the restoration of Avignon to the crown of France. This 
 expedient was probably suggested by Clement himself, but the 
 engagements which existed between the courts of Versailles and 
 Aranjuez rendered its execution impossible. Choiseul ridi- 
 culed the pusillanimity of the pope, treating his scruples as mere 
 monkish follies, and his fears as cowardice : he refused to enter- 
 tain the notion that the Jesuits w^ere capable of murder, adding, 
 that no one would have a chance of dying in his bed if all in- 
 triguers were to become assassins. Charles III., who was of a 
 more serious and ardent character than Choiseul, treated the 
 pope's fears with the same incredulity, although he did not express 
 it in contemptuous raillery. At the instigation of the minister 
 Roda, Moniiio, and the Duke of Alba, and with a view to de- 
 prive Clement of any pretext for refusing his consent, he offered 
 
 * Despatches of Bernis, of September 9th and November 20th, 1769 j 
 Jauuaiy 31st, April 29th, and June 26th, 1774. 
 
CHAP. IV.] GANGANELLI TO CHARLES III. 73 
 
 to land 6000 men at Civita Yecchia, to defend the pope against 
 his enemies; and then, suspecting- the good faith of Bernis in this 
 negotiation, he denounced him to the court of France and de- 
 manded his recall. 
 
 Bernis felt the shock which had almost overthrown him, and, 
 in order to avert the danger, he changed his line of policy witli 
 regard to the pope. Instead of his previous easy acquiescence, 
 he now became stern and exacting ; and not seeing any better 
 step to be taken, he urged the pope to write to Charles III. and 
 make peace with him — a measure which Bernis' friends had re- 
 commended as the only means left of regaining the favour of 
 that monarch. Ganw-anelli fell at once into the snare, and in 
 his joy at escaping a present evil he overlooked the fact, that by 
 pledging himself in writing, he was sowing the seeds of insuper- 
 able future difficulties. In his eaoerness to conciliate the King^ 
 of Spain, the promises given in this letter were conveyed in 
 positive and irrevocable terms. He declined the assistance 
 offered by his Catholic majesty, and requested time to accom- 
 plish the suppression of the Jesuits ; but, at the same time, he 
 admitted that this measure was indispensable, and avowed in 
 plain terms that tlie members of the Society had merited their 
 fall, from the restless/iess of their spirit and the audacity of 
 their proceedings (1770). This letter has been confounded by 
 every historian with the subsequent and much more vague en- 
 aaijement which Gang^anelli is said to have signed before his 
 election. The facts, as here given, are derived from the most 
 authentic state papers.* 
 
 * We quote the words of Cardinal de Bernis, in his despatch of the 29th 
 of April, 1770 : they are of the highest importance, and cannot be refuted. 
 
 " The question is not, -svhether the Pope -would wish to suppress the Jesuits, 
 but whether, after the formal promises which he had given in writing 
 to the King of Spain, his Holiness can for a moment hesitate to fulfil them. 
 This letter which I have induced him to write to his Catholic Majesty binds 
 him so firmly that, unless the court of Spain should alter its opinions, the 
 Pope will be obliged to complete the undertaking. By gaining time it is 
 time he might eflfect something, but the power of delay is limited. His 
 Holiness is a man of too much clearsightedness not to perceive that, should 
 the King of Spain cause his letter to be printed, he would lose his cha- 
 racter as a man of honour if he hesitated to fulfil his promise and sup- 
 press the societv', a plan for whose destruction he had promised to commu- 
 nicate, and whose members he considered as dangerous, discontented, and 
 iurbulent." 
 
 Certainly notlimg can be done more decisive than this. The Jesuits are 
 
74 THE FALL Ox^ THE JESUITS. [chap, tv 
 
 ^ W I ^ ■-■ ■' ■ ■ ■ - ■ . I : '■■■-■ i..— ■ i»».^ 
 
 As soon as Charles III. had possession of thU document, he 
 ^vas master of the whole negotiation, and no longer feared any- 
 thing-, since Ganganelli had put himself entirely in his power. 
 Never was any affair conducted more unskilfully : Ganganelli 
 ought either never to have bound himself by such positive promises, 
 or, having done so, he ought at once to have dissolved the Order. 
 But Clement XIV. had not that vigour of character which accom- 
 plishes great measures with promptness and decision. He had 
 removed from him the cup of bitterness for a short time, and 
 this temporary reprieve satisfied him : he wished, as he said, to 
 familiarize himself to the cannon's roar before the battle should 
 commence. As the first proof of the sincerity of his intentions 
 to the sovereigns, he resolved, but with dread, upon a step 
 unprecedented in the annals of the pontificate : he suppressed 
 the reading of the bull in Ccetia Domi?ii on Holy Thursday. So 
 serious a measure, indeed, although required by circumstances 
 and urqced bv all the courts, caused the greatest astonishment 
 ill Rome. Complaints were made by the party of the Zelanti, 
 but at the end of eight days these murmurs died away ; and 
 Clement XIV., who, until the very moment of action, had been 
 in great fear and trouble, was agreeably surprised to find that 
 no serious evil consequences had followed this energetic act. 
 
 right in asserting the existence of such a letter, but they are wrong in the 
 date they assign to it. The Cardinal Ambassador is still more explicit, or at 
 least more circumstantial, in a despatch of the 31st of August in the same 
 year. " The current opinion here is, that the Pope is very subtle and acute : 
 but there seem to me to be no grounds for this belief. Had he possessed 
 such acuteness he would never have pledged himself in writing to destroy 
 the Jesuits, nor have described them, in his letter to the King of Spain, as 
 ambitious, turbulent, and dangerous. Having once expressed this opinion, he 
 will be easily convinced that to act conscientiously he must suppress the 
 Order. Had the Pope been an able and acute man, he would, in giving such a 
 pledge in writing, have demanded as a condition the restitution of Avignon 
 and Benevento, and he would easily have found good and plausible reasons 
 for such a condition. The Pope's object in pledging himself thus could only 
 have been to quiet the impatience of the court, to obtain tranquillity, and, by 
 his correspondence with the confessor, of his Catholic INIajesty, to put otf 
 the evil day ; and in the end to suppress the Jesuits if the Bourbon so- 
 vereigns persisted in their demand. This act depends, then, entirely on the 
 wishes of the three monarchs. and its completion will be hastened or retarded 
 entirely by the importunity or delay of their demands. Had the Pope only 
 wished to trilie with our courts, he would never have given his promise in 
 vrriiing." It is clear by this repetition of the same argument, that Bernis 
 was anxious to destroy a serious objection which he had foreseen. 
 
ciTAr. n-.] PORTUGAL RECOXCILED WITH THE POPE. 75 
 
 Another still more important success re-assured the pope, ami 
 revived his drooping spirits. Ever since his accession he had 
 maintained a secret correspondence with Portugtil, and one of his 
 most cherished liopes was to effect a renewal of tlie ancient 
 relations which had existed between that kingdom and the Holy 
 See. Pombal had vainly endeavoured to prolong the rupture, 
 and the continuance of such a state of aflairs had now become 
 impossible. The highest class of nobles in Portugal was, as is 
 well known, the proudest and most exclusive in P^urope ; they 
 associated only with one another, and formed, as it were, a kind 
 of family. The pope, however, discontinued sending dispensa- 
 tions, and any tliat emanated from other quarters were regarded 
 as acts of sacrilege. The archbishop of Evora, to gratify Pom- 
 bal, attempted to distribute them, but the gifts of the courtier- 
 prelate were repulsed with disdain. Complaints, uttered at first 
 in a low and timid tone, now burst forth loud and eeneral :* 
 the king of Portugal even was shaken by tliem ; he began to 
 entertain scruples, to conceive doubts, and to treat his minister 
 with coldness. One day he deigned no answer to the repeated 
 arguments of Pombal against the Holy See, but turned his back 
 on him in the presence of all his court. Pombal became alarmed, 
 and saw that he had gone too far ; he redoubled his zeal for the 
 Inquisition : hitherto that institution had only borne the title of 
 Excellencv, but an edict was now issued which conferred on it that 
 of Majesty. The people of Lisbon sighed for a legitimate auto- 
 da-fe ; that of Malagrida, which was already almost forgotten, 
 did not satisfy tlieir pious souls. A new auto-da-fe was in 
 consequence graciously bestowed by Pombal, and celebrated 
 with oreat mao^nificence. The Portuguese of all ranks with one 
 voice now demanded a complete reconciliation with the pope, 
 and the immediate reception of a Nuncio at Lisbon ; and, not- 
 withstanding the habitual inflexibility of his character, Pombal 
 yielded to this demand. The mild tolerance of Clement XIV. 
 removed, in the eyes of Joseph I., ever}'' pretext for accusation. 
 Ganganelli used persuasion, not threats. The king for the first 
 time spoke with authority : Pombal obeyed, and acceded to a 
 
 * Despatches of Monsieur de Merle, of Monsieur de Saint Priest, and of 
 Monsieur de Clermont, the ambassadors of France at Lisbon during the 
 ministry of the Marquis de Pombal. 
 
76 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap, iv, 
 
 reconciliation with the pontiff, but only upon two conditions, 
 that the pope would confer a cardinal's hat on one of his brothers, 
 and give a formal promise to suppress the Society of Jesus. Both 
 these conditions were accepted, but the latter remained a secret. 
 
 Rome extolled enthusiastically the talents of Clement XIV. 
 The news of the reception given by the King of Portugal to the 
 nuncio Conti, the appearance of this prelate borne along the 
 Tagus in the royal galley manned by seventy rowers in splendid 
 dresses, the shouts of the people who lined the banks of the 
 river,^all these circumstances, heightened by the reports of 
 them given in the journals, inflated the vanity of the Roman 
 people. ^Clement XIY. was no longer the vassal of tlie crowned 
 heads, but an independent and able pontiff who matured ids 
 plans in silence. The pope himself seemed intoxicated with 
 success ; he caused a medal to be struck, commanded rejoicings, 
 proclaimed the return of the stray sheep to the fold of the 
 church, and, in the excess of his enthusiasm and his gratitude to 
 Pombal, Clement extolled that minister's virtues, and even boasted 
 of his attachment to the Holy See. The illusion was however of 
 short duration ; this show of concession to which Pombal had 
 yielded, in order to pacify the alarmed conscience of the king, 
 and to satisfy the piety of the people, had in no way altered the 
 projects of the minister. The nuncio indeed resided at Lisbon, 
 in the midst of all the outward show of homage and respect, but 
 he in vain claimed the restoration of the nuncial tribunal. The 
 animosity engendered by this circumstance was carried to such a 
 length that the nuncio more than once applied for his recall. 
 Pombal, moreover, was not content with giving a decided refusal, 
 but accompanied it with a host of petty causes of annoyance and 
 mortification. 
 
 Tanucci, the principal minister of Ferdinand lY., King of 
 Kaples, even surpassed Pombal in discourtesy : his personal 
 feeling of animosity to Ganganelli was not diminished by the 
 omission of the Bull in Ccena Domini.^ and he daily gave fresh 
 proofs of his enmity by insults which were not confined to theo- 
 logical disputes. One day, without giving previous notice, he 
 ordered all the valuable marbles, which for upwards of a century 
 had adorned the Farnese Palace, to be removed ; and the Grand 
 Duke of Tuscany followed his example, by stripping the Villa 
 
CHAP. IV.] FALSE EEPORTS BY THE OEDEK. 77 
 
 di Medicis. It is true that these acts were sanctioned by 
 legal right, but the indignation of the Romans was not the less 
 deep and strong, when they saw the Hercules and tlie Toro 
 Farnese carried off to Naples, and the family of Isiobe taking 
 the road to Florence. Insults like these are the more keenly 
 felt, because they touch the most sensitive feelings of national 
 pride. The indignation of the Eomans knew no bounds, and 
 the prolonged sequestration of Benevento and Avignon added 
 fresh strength to this feeling. Clement XIV. gradually became 
 contemptible in the eyes of his subjects : the people were indig- 
 nant to see a pope humbled at tlie feet of princes, and lumibled 
 without hope : they demanded how soon Avignon and Bene- 
 vento — those conquests so dear to Eoman pride — were to become 
 the price of the pope's abasement. His voluntary poverty, 
 which had hitherto rendered liim so popular among the Traste- 
 verini, was now made a subject of raillery ; and, instead of being 
 imputed to laudable and virtuous motives of self-denial, it was 
 censured as mere sliameful avarice. He had neither favourites 
 nor nephews, and he accumulated no wealth to enrich his family ; 
 but this gained him neither favour nor excuse. 
 
 In consequence of a long course of careless administration, 
 there was now a famine in Eome. The cardinals, on the one 
 hand, could not tolerate the pope's estrangement from their 
 views, whilst the nobles and Roman dames possessed neither 
 credit nor influence. They all confided their revenge to the 
 Jesuits, who were just recovering from the first stunning effects 
 of the blow ihey had received, and now assumed a haughty 
 bearing. In order either to deceive or to compromise Ganga- 
 nelli, they spread the most daring reports that the King of Spain 
 had become more enlightened, and had abandoned his persecu- 
 tion of the Society. France too, it was said, supported them. 
 Madame Louise, one of the daughters of Louis XV., had 
 pleaded their cause with that monarch, and Bernis had promised 
 them his support. They strove to blind all parties with the 
 brilliancy of their pretended triumph. In fact, the pope saw 
 that he was threatened by the three courts of the honse of 
 Bourbon ; by Portugal, the price of whose cold reconciliation 
 was the destruction of the Jesuits ; by the Grand Duke Leopold 
 and the Emperor Joseph, who had already commenced that 
 
78 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. iv. 
 
 system of reform which tiiey afterwards pursued so persever- 
 ingly. Rome had now no protector among all the Catholic 
 powers: Charles Emanuel indeed remained faithful, but the 
 assistance of the King of Sardinia could do little to smooth the 
 difficulties in the pontiff's path, when opposed by the hostility of 
 the two most powerful Catholic states. 
 
 The position of Clement XIV. was such as to excite interest, 
 and indeed pity. His was not a mind formed to battle against 
 the rude shocks of fate : gentle and courteous, he was amiable 
 in every relation of friendship — not like Benedict XIV., from 
 any original turn of mind or nice power of discrimination, 
 but from a simple kindliness of disposition and equanimity of 
 temper, devoid alike of insipidity and monotony. He never 
 overstepped the decorum of his priestly office nor his dignity as 
 sovereign pontiff, yet he did not object to innocent raillery. 
 Those who seek to confer upon him a literary reputation, have 
 greatly erred. Letters, it is true, have been published under his 
 name by the Marquis Caraccioli, but the originals have never 
 been produced ; and, whether authentic or fictitious, they possess 
 very slight literary value. The belief that a lengthened corre- 
 spondence was carried on between Clement XIV. and Arlequin, 
 is an ingenious but romantic modern fiction, and can only be 
 explained by a spirit of party feeling. 
 
 Ganganelli tolerated all differences of opinion, provided the 
 expression of them was decorous. Like iiis predecessors, he 
 thundered his bulls against the philosophical writings of the 
 age ; but, at the same time, he kept on good terms with the 
 philosophers themselves, without flattering them ; and, although 
 he would never enter into correspondence with Voltaire, as 
 Benedict XIV. had done, yet lie received some indirect compli- 
 ments from him kindly. He enjoyed his joke, and intimated to 
 the patriarch of Ferney, through his old friend the Cardinal 
 de Eernis, that he would willingly take him to his heart, if he 
 would end by becoming a good Capuchin. On another occasion, 
 Voltaire had requested a friend, who was on his travels, to bring 
 him the ears of the grand inquisitor. Clement heard of this, 
 and sent word back to the gay old patriarch that it was long 
 since the inquisitor had either eyes or ears. This tone of con- 
 versation, from a monk who boasted a mere scholastic educa- 
 
CHAP. IV.] CHARLES DISPLEASED WITH THE POPE. 73 
 
 tioii, and whose knowledge of the world was neces-saiily very 
 limited, was gracious and pleasing-. 
 
 Every Italian loves the arts : although Clement XIV. was 
 no connoisseur, lie knew and felt that the arts are an ornament 
 to the pontificate. lie ordered researches to be made in 
 various parts of Rome, in the Campagna, and in the bed of the 
 Tiber : he collected from all sides master-pieces of art, and 
 formed the museum since named the Musseo Pio-Clementino ; 
 althougrh the chief honour of this association of the names of the 
 two pontiffs is justly due to the successor of Ganganelli : Pius VI. 
 enlarged and completed the project which Clement XIV. had 
 conceived and commenced. We need not recur to the simplicity 
 of Ganganelli's private life, which was more like that of an 
 anchorite or peasant than a sovereign. He disliked the society 
 of the great, whom he judged with perhaps too much severity, 
 sliahtinu: their claims, and never admitting- them to his con- 
 fidence. The nobles detested him, whilst on the contrary 
 foreigners showed him the highest esteem and respect : he 
 entertained them worthily, with that noble spirit of hospi- 
 tality which to the present day makes Rome the rendezvous 
 of all Europe. By one of those accidents which could only 
 happen in this city, Prince Charles Edward met the Duke 
 of Gloucester, the brother of George III. Their carriages 
 passed in the Piazza Navona, and, although rivals, the feeling 
 of gentlemen was superior to every other, and they exclianged 
 a formal salutation of courtesy. Ganganelli was the devoted 
 friend of all existing governments, and, like all his pre- 
 decessors, cared little about tlie claims of legitimacy : he never 
 received the Pretender witli the honour due to royalty, whicli 
 would have been offensive to England ; and he kept on good 
 terms with that power, declaring his attachment to it so 
 openly as to give great offence to Spain. Charles III. dis- 
 covered the secret mission of the prelate Caprara at the court of 
 London, and complained of this severely, accusing the pope of 
 carrying on intrigues witli the British cabinet. Ganganelli 
 excused himself by alleging tliat his duty required him to watch 
 over the interests of the church in Ireland ; and, indeed, it 
 appears that the English government had promised to grant 
 some concessions to the Catholics of that country, provided their 
 
83 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. iv. 
 
 cIer»T would asree to subscribe the declaration of the Galilean 
 church. Clement XIV. conducted this affair secretly with Hervey 
 and other Irish bishops, but the negotiation failed as a matter 
 of course. Notwithstandino^ this, Clement always treated the 
 English with sympathy and kindness, and they in turn paid him 
 the same marks of respect as they had shown to Benedict XIV. 
 In the mansions of many of the English nobility, distinguished 
 by their political influence, are seen the busts and portraits of 
 Clement. This good understanding between England and the 
 pope did not escape the Jesuits, who determined to take ad- 
 vantage of it : they flattered the English, relied on their support 
 and intercession with the pope, and boasted that a British 
 squadron would be sent to Civita Vecchia, in case Spain should 
 ever proceed to extremities, and demand the dissolution of the 
 Order at the point of the bayonet.* In the midst of this 
 strano-e conflict of interests, a still more decisive event revived 
 the hopes of the Society — the fall of the Duke de Choiseul, 
 which took place on the 25th of December, 1770. On the 
 first news of this event, the exultation of the Jesuits knew 
 no bounds; they pictured to themselves not merely their 
 restoration, but their triumph, and even began to meditate 
 schemes of revenge. Well knowing the enmity of the Duke 
 d'Aiguillon toward his predecessor, they resolved to take 
 advantage of this, and immediately presented an address to 
 Louis XV., in which they professed the utmost respect for 
 the king, and prostrated themselves at his feet; but they 
 spared neither the late minister nor the pope himself, repre- 
 senting his Holiness as surrounded by a cabal, and entirely 
 under the influence of its delusions. After boasting of their 
 services, and protesting against the iniquity of the persecu- 
 tion they had endured, they demanded that judgment should 
 be passed on the Abbe Beliardy and other agents of the 
 Duke de Choiseul, and even entertained the hope of bring- 
 ing the late minister himself to trial.f D'Aiguillon would 
 
 * We find these secret and curious details of the relations between the 
 Pope and the Irish, and the assistance bestowed by the English on the 
 Jesuits, in the despatches of Monino, minister of Spain at Piome, addressed 
 to the Marquis Grimaldi. These despatches are very interesting, but 
 unfortunately very few in number. 
 
 f This document still exists. 
 
CHAP. IV.] D'AIGUILLON SUCCEEDS CHOISEUL. SI 
 
 gladly have seconded these projects, but the necessity of pro- 
 ceeding cautiously with the King of Spain obliged him to re- 
 linquish any such attempt. At the news of the change in the 
 ministry, Charles III., who was deeply grieved at the disgrace of 
 his friend, did not conceal his distrust of the intentions of his 
 successor. D'Aiguillon found it necessary to soothe and re- 
 assure the king, not to irritate him ; and he saw that his only 
 means of accomplishing this was to pursue an open and straight- 
 forward line of conduct in the affair which excited the kind's 
 ardour so strongly. D'Aiguillon yielded to this necessity, which 
 was alike opposed to his wishes and his projects. He was at- 
 tached to the Jesuits, and had in fact been raised to the ministry' 
 by their intrigues. By protecting the Society and restoring to 
 it the power which it had lost, his patron, Madame du Barry, 
 secured able and zealous defenders. The champions and pa- 
 negyrists of Jesuitism were to be to her wliat the encyclopedists 
 had been to Madame de Pompadour : nay more, by their com- 
 plaisant and sanctimonious pens, the favourite became a Main- 
 tenon. This plan flattered both the ambition of the minister 
 and the vanity of Madame du Barry. Still the demands of the 
 King of Spain overcame these considerations : any successor to 
 Choiseul was suspected by him. It was necessary to disarm his 
 distrust, to gain his confidence, and give him some pledge ; 
 and D'Aiguillon in consequence began by one of those mean 
 stratagems which have since rendered his administration so 
 famous. The lukewarm measures adopted by Bernis had long 
 proved unsatisfactory to Charles III. D'Aiguillon betrayed 
 the despatches of the cardinal to the Count Fuentes, the Spanish 
 ambassador.* These despatches indicated the cardinal's want of 
 energy in his proceedings against the Jesuits. D'Aiguillon pro- 
 mised to put an end to this by severe orders, requiring at the same 
 time an entire silence to be preserved with regard to Bernis. 
 Such is the course pursued by governments which are weak and 
 consequently treacherous. All the doubts which Charles III. 
 had entertained were now dissipated : from this moment he forgot 
 
 * See the letter of Grimaldi to the Count Fuentes, Spanish ambassador in 
 France, the 18th of May, 1772 ''an accurate copy, certified by thesijmature of 
 M. de Fuentes). Letter of Dom Joseph Monino to the Marquis Grimaldi , 
 Rome, 9th July, 1772. 
 
 G 
 
82 THE FALL OF THE JESU.TS. [chap, iv, 
 
 Choiseul, and, to testify his gratitude to D'Aiguillon, he ne- 
 gotiated directly with him relative to the Jesuits. The ambas- 
 sadors of France at Madrid, and of Spain at Versailles, carried 
 their confidence so far as mutually to exchange their de- 
 spatches.* 
 
 The situation of Clement XIV. was deplorable : all pre- 
 texts for delay were exhausted ; the threats of the Jesuits 
 resounded in his ears with increased boldness ; and, in order 
 to act more forcibly on his imagination, they assumed a fan- 
 tastic shape. The approach of his death was announced by 
 a set of impostors, whose predictions were readily believed by 
 the people. Bernardini Beruzzi, a peasant of the village 
 of Valentano, declared herself to be a prophetess, and pre- 
 dicted the vacancy of the Holy See by the mysterious initials 
 P. S. S. v.. Presto sara sede vacante (the Holy See will 
 soon be vacant). Although the pope was too enlightened 
 and religious to admit the possibility of divination, he yet felt 
 that it was easy for men to predict events which they them- 
 selves could control, and he feared lest poison or the dagger 
 might be employed to aid the accomplishment of these pre- 
 dictions. In the various circles of society, almost in public and 
 aloud, the partisans of the Jesuits accused Clement, heaping 
 reproaches on his name, and even daring to insinuate the proba- 
 bility of his deposition. Insulting images and hideous pictures 
 were put forth, announcing an approaching catastrophe under 
 the form of the vengeance of Providence. Father Ricci, far 
 from feeling any repugnance at the support of such shameless 
 deception, did not even shrink from an interview with the sor- 
 ceress of Valentano. t But the pope was exposed to more than 
 one source of terror, for the princes troubled him as much as the 
 theologians, and their anger, which had smouldered for two 
 
 * These letters throw great light on the negotiations of Clement XIV., 
 and in a useful controversy correct the exorbitant praise bestowed on him 
 by Cardinal Bernis. 
 
 t He met her at the house of the advocate Achilli. One has need of 
 proofs for such startling facts ; but the impartial reader will have no farther 
 doubt when he knows that these accusations are most positively put forth in 
 a very long letter and one full of details, addressed to Pope Pius VI. by 
 Florida Blanca, and that they are neither denied nor refuted in the answer 
 sent by the pope (February, 1775). Besides, the sorceress of Valentano is 
 fully defended by many pamphlets published at this time. 
 
CHAP. IV.] FRANCESCO ANTONIO MONINO. 83 
 
 years, burst forth more violently than ever. Charles III. had 
 now lost all patience, and threatened to bring dishonour on the 
 pope by printing his letter. Clement, struck with terror on tlie 
 one hand, and overcome with shame on the other, did not dare to 
 raise his eyes in the presence of the foreign ministers, and even 
 avoided meeting them. Under pretext of the care necessary to 
 his health, he refused to give them the usual audiences, and 
 retired to Castel Gandolfo, accompanied only by his faithful 
 Francesco, and not even allowing Bernis to have access to him. 
 But a fresh cause of embarrassment arose. Azpurii, the arch- 
 bishop of Valentia, died, and Charles III., being resolved to fill 
 his place at Rome with some one of decided character, appointed 
 Moniiio. No choice could have been more significant ; his very 
 name was a declaration of hostilities. 
 
 Francesco Antonio Monino, afterwards Count Florida Blanca,* 
 was a magistrate who had already acquired some celebrity in 
 Spain. As fiscal^ or attorney-general, he always energetically 
 defended the rights of the empire against the encroachments of 
 the priesthood, and his zeal in this cause was so ardent that it 
 was generally attributed to personal animosity. He shared with 
 D'Aranda, Roda, and Campomanes the danger of having first 
 suggested the banishment of the Jesuits from Spain. Nothing 
 could have appeared more formidable to Clement XIV. than the 
 selection of such an ambassador. The Jesuits were in con- 
 sternation at his arrival ; nor did Bernis feel more at ease. 
 He was already acquainted with the reputation of Florida 
 Blanca, whose conduct D'Aiguillon had ordered him to follow, 
 and he endeavoured to gain the confidence of his colleague ; 
 displaying in their first interview all that winning grace of 
 manner which he deemed irresistible. He complained mildly 
 of the prejudices of the court of Madrid, and, without forget- 
 ting his own merits, he engaged in an apology more plau- 
 sible than real, Florida Blanca listened to him with great 
 attention ; but after the first civilities, he gave him to understand 
 that the time for weakness was past, that thenceforth it wouhj 
 be distrusted, and that the king his master was determined 
 to bring matters to a close. Bernis understood the tenor of this 
 
 * He was afterwards prime minister during the whole of the reign ox 
 Charles III. and the early part of that of Cliarles IV. 
 
 G 2 
 
8t THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. iv. 
 
 speech : he was attached to his place, which he filled with 
 pleasure and reputation, and he saw that it was now in the 
 hands of the King of Spain ; to retain it, he must submit blindly 
 to the will of Charles III. ; and, therefore, from this moment 
 renouncing all petty artifices, and all the subterfuges of the 
 CEil-de-Bceuf, he promised a hearty co-operation in the views of 
 the Spanish minister. In order the better to convince him of 
 his sincerity, he readily acquiesced in the accusations against the 
 pope, ridiculing the oracular tone which he had for some time 
 assumed, insisting on the necessity of forcing him to an expla- 
 nation, and even going so far as to cast some doubt on the good 
 faith of the holy father. This was far more than Florida Blanca 
 expected. 
 
 In the mean time Clement XIV. underwent the most inde- 
 scribable sufferings. If he had ever possessed that greatness of 
 soul and firmness of purpose which many historians have attri- 
 buted to him, he certainly exhibited none of this at the pre- 
 sent crisis. He heard of the approach of Florida Blanca with 
 childish terror : in vain he affected the appearance of calmness ; 
 his features, his countenance, the paleness of his cheeks, be- 
 trayed clearly the trouble of his soul. But his conduct soon 
 revealed the real state of his mind : he postponed for eight days 
 an audience of the Spanish envoy, and at length, after this useless 
 delay, he consented to see him.* Owing to the embarrassment 
 of the pope, this first audience led to no result. Florida Blanca 
 retired dissatisfied, and soon requested a second interview. The 
 pope again sought pretexts for delay. Without any fixed project 
 or any decided opinion, v/avering between the Jesuits and the 
 European courts, daring neither to confront his enemies nor to 
 assist his friends, he hoped to flatter the vanity of Florida 
 Blanca by treating Bernis with coldness ; but the Spaniard, who 
 was of a passionate temperament, although phlegmatic in his 
 manners, disdained to accept so trivial a sacrifice. A sem- 
 blance of confidence was not enough, — the complete success of 
 his project could alone satisfy him. Denied access to the 
 pope, he turned into ridicule his sudden departure, his pre- 
 tended complaints, and his taking the waters at the wrong season. 
 He openly declared that he would oppose a journey to Assisi, 
 
 * Bernis to D'Aiguillon, July, 1772 ; Monino to Grimaldi, July, 1772. 
 
CHAP. IV.] MONIXO'S INTERVIEWS WITH THE POPE. 85 
 
 which the holy father had proposed, and affected to ask whether 
 his Holiness meant to shut himself up to play at nine-pins with 
 Buontempi and Francesco ; then, adding- threats to sarcasm, he 
 addressed himself to those ^vho surrounded the pope, and bade 
 them choose between the gold of Spain and the anger of Charles 
 III. Won over and intimidated, the favourites promised him 
 an audience. Ganganelli, harassed on all sides, implored the 
 protection of Bernis ; but the cardinal ambassador, who was 
 himself close!}- watched, merely advised him to submit. 
 
 Florida Blanca again appeared before Clement ; repeated in- 
 terviews took place, and they were all humiliating to the pope. 
 The successor of the apostles trembled before a Castilian lawyer, 
 and, although respect was maintained in the forms of speech, 
 the spirit of such demands was not the less imperious. At one 
 time, notwithstanding his reluctance, Florida Blanca compelled 
 the pope to listen to a project for the abolition of the Jesuits ; 
 at another time he declared that Spain might perhaps soon 
 cease to be in subjection to the Holy See, and imitate the 
 example of Gallican independence. Heresy itself would have 
 been less formidable to Rome than such a prospect. Gan- 
 ganelli strove in vain to stem the force of the current which 
 was hurrying him along ; he endeavoured to prove that, 
 with the fear of a dissolution before them, the Jesuits were less 
 formidable than they had ever been, and entreated Florida 
 Blanca to await the approaching death of their general. Father 
 Ricci. But the impetuous minister contemptuously rejected 
 these further delays. " No, holy father," he exclaimed, " it is 
 by extracting the tooth that the pain is stopped : by the body of 
 Jesus Christ I conjure your Holiness to regard me as one who 
 earnestly desires peace ; but beware lest the king, my master, 
 should approve the project, adopted by more than one court, of 
 suppressing all religious orders whatsoever. If you wish to save 
 them, do not confound their cause with that of the Jesuits." 
 " Ah," replied Ganganelli, " I have long seen that this was the 
 object at which they were aiming ; but they are seeking still 
 more, — the ruin of the Catholic church; schism, and even 
 heresy perhaps, are in the secret thoughts of the sovereigns I" 
 After giving vent to these complaints, the pope attempted to 
 gain over Florida Blanca by friendly confidence and gentle 
 
8fl THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. iv. 
 
 naivete ; but he resisted this attempt with the most unbending 
 stoicism. Compelled to abandon persuasive means, Clement 
 sought to excite his pity ; he spoke of the state of his health, but 
 the Spaniard betrayed such incredulity, that the unfortunate 
 Ganganelii, removing a part of his dress, exhibited to him his 
 naked arms covered with an eruption. Such were the means that 
 the pope used to act upon the agent of Charles III. ;* for, in 
 fact, he was suing for his life. 
 
 Nevertheless, Clement XIV., in spite of such degradation, 
 occasionally resumed his dignity as a prince and pontiff. One 
 day Florida Blanca supported his arguments by suggesting a 
 motive of self-interest ; he guaranteed to the pope the imme- 
 diate restitution of Avignon and Benevento after the promul- 
 gation of the brief ; but Ganganelii replied with courage, 
 " Remember that a pope governs the church, but does not 
 traffic in his authority." With these words, he broke short the 
 conference, and retired in indignation. Upon entering his pri- 
 vate apartments, his grief burst forth in sobs, and he exclaimed, 
 *' Maj God pardon the Catholic king !" 
 
 But the hour had struck ; delay was longer impossible, and 
 all further promises would be disregarded. In vain the Jesuits 
 resorted again to intimidation ; Ganganelii saw that he must 
 yield. A faint hope, however, still remained : the Court of 
 Vienna might possibly oppose the destruction of the Society : 
 but even this hope failed, for Austria tendered her assent. 
 This negotiation is related in several different ways : according 
 to the most accredited account, the King of Spain dispelled the 
 confidence between Maria Theresa and the Jesuits by sending 
 to her her own general confession, which her director had 
 transmitted to the Society. This account is improbable; but 
 one thing is certain : no one can doubt that Charles III. used 
 every means to procure the consent of the empress to the pro- 
 ject. The determination of Maria Theresa is above all attri- 
 butable to the importunity of Joseph, who, although he took 
 little interest in the affair as it affected the Jesuits, yet coveted 
 their possessions. One clause in particular reveals the princi- 
 ples, the interests, and the secret influence of the young emperor. 
 The Court of Vienna consented to make common cause with 
 * Monino to Grimaldi, July 16tb, 1772. 
 
cnAP. IV.] JESUITS' PROPERTY CONFISCATED. 87 
 
 the Bourbons only on the express condition of having the arbi- 
 trary disposal of the property of the Jesuits, exceptinj^ the com- 
 pensation of individual losses by pensions. Moreover, if the 
 desires of France and Spain were acceded to by that Court, it is 
 not to be attributed to the French ambassador ; for, according- to 
 the testimony of the Abbe Georgel, his secretary and frienc!, 
 the Prince Louis de Rohan forgot his instructions so far as to 
 commend the Society to the empress.* 
 
 After having undergone this last trial, Clement at length re- 
 solved upon what course to take : he decided upon the publica- 
 tion of the brief; but before executing this important act, the 
 pope, as he himself expressed it, wished to announce the thunder- 
 bolt by some flashes of lightning. Considering that the dis- 
 credit and disgrace of the Jesuits ought to precede and justify 
 their fall, he employed that influence which the pontifical court 
 exercises over the tribunals. Private individuals were per- 
 mitted to prosecute actions which had long before been in- 
 stituted against the Society, and suspended until this time by 
 authority. The Romans heard with astonishment that the 
 Jesuits were thus rendered amenable to the law : until then, 
 they had never lost an action at law in Rome, as the pope him- 
 self told the Cardinal de Bernis.f Their debts, the bad admi- 
 nistration of their schools, which had been hitherto veiled \\ ith 
 religious care, were now unmasked to the public view. Three 
 visitors, who were appointed to examine their famous Collegio 
 Romano, confiscated the possessions of that establishment for 
 the payment of its creditors. They deposited all the articles 
 of value in the monte-di-pieta, and sold by auction the stores 
 which had been accumulated. At the same time the establisli- 
 ments of the Order at Frascati and Tivoli were seized. Even 
 a still greater rigour was exercised in the Legations ; the Car- 
 dinal Malvezzi, Archbishop of Bologna, visited the institutions 
 of the Society in his diocese, pronounced a general and severe 
 censure, and on leaving the fathers seized their keys, and quitted 
 them with threats. Nor was it long ere these threats were put 
 
 * Prince Louis de Rohan to the Buke d'Aiguillon ; Vienna, September 
 11th, 1773. In another portion of this correspondence it is seen that the 
 Prince de Kaunitz despised the sacred college, and persuaded their imperial 
 majesties not to reply to their letters, as a useless luss (j time. 
 
 I Bernis to D'Aiguillon, Jan. 21st, 1773. 
 
88 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. iv. 
 
 into execution : the scholars and novices were sent back to their 
 parents ; the Jesuits were excluded from the offices of public 
 instruction and ministering to the prisoners, and several of them 
 were thrown into prison. 
 
 After these preliminary steps, Ganganelli no longer hesitated ; 
 he ordered the brief to be brought to him, reperused it, raised 
 his eyes to heaven, took the pen, and signed it. Then casting 
 a look upon the document, he said with a sigh, " There, then, 
 is this act of suppression ! I do not repent of what I have done ; 
 I did not resolve upon the measure until I had well weighed it ! 
 I would do it again, but this act will be my death-blow {qiiesta 
 suppressione mi dark la morte)^ 
 
 At length, on the 21st of July, 1773, the brief, Dominus ac 
 Redemptor^ appeared. Immediately after the promulgation of 
 this brief, the prelates Macedonio and Alfani repaired to the 
 institution of the Gesu; whilst other prelates visited the nume- 
 rous establishments attached to the Order. The Corsican soldiers 
 who accompanied them took possession of the buildings. Tlie 
 members of tlie Society were called together, and the brief 
 which dissolved them was read by the notaries. Seals were put 
 upon the houses of the Order, and the deputies retired, leaving 
 them in charge of the armed force. The following day the 
 schools were closed, the Jesuits ceased their functions, and 
 their churches were immediately served by Capuchins. The 
 old general of the Order was the same day transferred to the 
 English college, stripped of all marks of his dignity, and 
 clad in the dress of a simple priest ; he was guarded and kept 
 constantly in sight, M'ith a lay brother to wait upon him. 
 The dissolution had surprised and afflicted him ; as he himself 
 said, he expected only a reform. The proceedings commenced ; 
 a commission was appointed, which interrogated him ; he 
 answered with simplicity, but his examination is perfectly un- 
 interesting. Ricci enlarged upon the innocence of the Society, 
 and protested that he had neither concealed nor put out to 
 interest any money, but he admitted his secret relations with 
 the King of Prussia. The commissioners protracted the pro- 
 ceedings, and after exhausting all the resources of a subtle 
 procedure, the ex-general was imprisoned in the castle of St. 
 Angelo, and treated with a degree of rigour which even the 
 
CHAP. IV.] IMPROVED HEALTH OF GANGANELLI. 89 
 
 enemies of the Jesuits neither expected nor required from the 
 pope.* The encyclopedists extolled the courage and philo.-^ophy 
 of Clement XIV., an interested and assumed tribute, which was 
 merely a piece of party tactics. They did not seriously consider 
 him in this light, and upon more than one occasion, in his pri- 
 vate and familiar intercourse with tlie King of Prussia, D'Alem- 
 bert ridiculed what he called La maladresse du Cordelier. 
 Tliis language was not held in public, but the pope was greatly 
 blamed, in the circles of the philosophers, for having expelled 
 the Jesuits from their possessions without securing to them a 
 subsistence, and for not having reconciled humanity with justice 
 — a cruelty which was the less excusable, as it could not be attri- 
 buted to passion. 
 
 Clement was astonished at the success of his boldness, which 
 quite intoxicated him ; his humour had never been more gay, 
 and his health even regained its vigour. f Whatever discontent 
 they felt, the nobles and the sacred college itself remained silent 
 spectators of the event. The Trasteverini, whose anger Gan- 
 ganelli feared, hailed it with enthusiasm, and a timely reduction 
 in the price of some provisions had prepared the way for this re- 
 ception of the measure. The prompt restitution of Avignon by 
 France, and of Benevento by Naples, crowned the popularity 
 of the pope. An attempt at revolt, fomented by the con- 
 quered party, miscarried, and the whole of Rome appeared to 
 have forgotten the brief Dominus ac Redemptor. Ganganelli 
 was delighted ; the slightest indications betrayed his joy, which, 
 like his character, was naive and infantine. One day, followed 
 by the sacred college and all the Roman prelates, he went on 
 horseback to the church of Minerva. Suddenly a heavy raia 
 came on ; Porporati, 3Ioiisignori, all vanished, and the light- 
 horse themselves sought shelter : the pope, left alone, and laugh- 
 ing at the terrors of his escort, continued his way bravely through 
 the storm. The people were delighted at this sight, and loud 
 in their applause. These Mere not the feats of an invalid, and 
 the bad health which the friends of the Jesuits represent Clement 
 
 * Processo fatto al sacerdote Lorenzo Ricci, gia generale della Compagnia 
 di Gesii. 
 
 t " His health is perfect, and his gaiety more remarkable than usual."— 
 (The Cardinal de Bernis, iSovember ord, 1773.) 
 
90 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap, iv 
 
 as suffering, was not at that time perceptible. Excepting a 
 cutaneous eruption, which relieved more than it harmed him, 
 Clement XIV. had never experienced any infirmity ; and we 
 may believe the Abbe Georgel, who tells us that Ganganelli's 
 strong constitution seemed to promise him a long career.* Ne- 
 vertheless, in spite of appearances, secret rumours were afloat. 
 At the very time that the pope was seen in the public cere- 
 monies, streets, and churches, in short everywhere, in the 
 enjoyment of health and strength, the rumour of his death was 
 widely circulated : the pythoness of Yalentano announced it 
 with a characteristic obstinacy. These reports were prema- 
 ture ; there was too much haste used in preparing the public 
 mind for the event. All on a sudden, at the approach of the 
 Iioly week in the year 1774, these rumours seemed to be realized. 
 The pope was suddenly confined to his palace, and refused to 
 grant any audience ; even the diplomatic body could not obtain 
 access to him. At length, on the 17th of August, the ministers 
 of the great powers were admitted to his presence. The appear- 
 ance of the pope struck them with surprise ; a mere skeleton 
 was before them. Clement marked their astonishment, and, 
 guessing the cause, he declared that his health had never been 
 better. The spectators welcomed this happy presage only from 
 respect ; they saw enough to convince them of the truth. From 
 that day, the members of the diplomatic body intimated to their 
 respective courts the prospect of an approaching conclave. 
 How, it is natural to ask, had Clement passed in so short a time 
 from strength to decrepitude — from life to death? After eight 
 months of perfect health, the pope, on rising one day from table, 
 felt an internal shock, followed by great cold. He became 
 alarmed, but by degrees he recovered from his fright, and 
 attributed the sudden sensation he had felt to indioestion. 
 All at once his confidential attendants were struck by alarming 
 symptoms : the voice of the pope, which had before been full 
 and sonorous, was quite lost in a singular hoarseness ; an in- 
 flammation in his throat compelled him to keep his mouth con- 
 stantly open ; vomitings and feebleness in his limbs rendered it 
 impossible for him to continue his usual long walks, which he 
 always took without fatigue ; and his sleep, which was until tlien 
 
 * Georgel, Memoires, vol. i. p. 160. 
 
CHAP. IV.] GANGANELLI'S LINGERING DEATH BY POISON. 91 
 
 habitually deep, was incessantly interrupted by sharp pains. At 
 length he could no longer get any repose : an entire prostration 
 of strength, the apparent forerunner of dissolution, succeeded 
 suddenly to a degree of even youthful agility and vigour ; and 
 the melancholy conviction of an attempt on his life, which he 
 had always feared, soon seized upon Clement, and rendered him 
 strange even to his own eyes. His character changed as by 
 magic ; the equability of his temper gave place to caprice, his 
 gentleness to passion, and his naturally easy confidence to con- 
 tinual distrust and suspicion. Poniards and poison were inces- 
 santly before his eyes. Sometimes, under the conviction that 
 he had been poisoned, he increased his malady by inefficacious 
 antidotes ; at other moments, with the hope of escaping an evil 
 which he imagined not accomplished, he would feed himself with 
 heating dishes, ill prepared by his own hands. His blood be- 
 came corrupted ; the close atmosphere of his apartments, which 
 he would not quit, aggravated the effects of an unwholesome 
 diet. In this disorder of his physical system his moral strength 
 gave way in its turn : there remained no longer any trace of 
 Ganganelli, and his reason even became disordered.* He was 
 haunted by phantoms in his sleep ; in the silence of the night 
 he started up continually, as dreams of horror excited his ima- 
 gination, and prostrated himself before a little image of the 
 Madonna, which he had unfastened from his breviary, and before 
 which for forty years two wax tapers had been kept burning niglit 
 and day. Prostrated thus, in the horrible conviction of his 
 eternal damnation, he exclaimed, while his voice was choked with 
 sobbing, " Mercy ! mercy ! I have been compelled. Com- 
 pulsus feci I compulsus feci /" He did not, however, make any 
 retractation in writing, as has been erroneously affirmed by a 
 writer attached to the Society. f 
 
 At length, after upwards of six months of torture, Clement 
 saw that his end was approaching. At this moment his reason 
 
 * Pius VII., when a prisoner at Fontainebleau in 1814, exclaimed that in 
 the end he should be made to die mad, like Clement XIV. " The pope 
 (Pius VII.) took no repose at night, and scarcfli/ tasted sufficient J ood to keep 
 him alive ; so that (the -words are his own) he should die mad like Clement 
 XIV." This extract is taken verbally from the Mem.oirs of Cardinal Pacca 
 (Afemor'ie Storiche del Mlnistero del Cardinale Bartholomeo Facca; Roma, 
 1830, p. 2.SS). 
 
 t Georgel, SItmoires. 
 
92 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. iv. 
 
 resumed its sway, — his mind rose superior to his infirmities. In 
 the clear possession of his intellect, and tasting the full cup of 
 bitterness and suffering, he approached his end. He desired to 
 speak ; a monk whispered a few words in his ear ; immediately 
 the words died away upon his lips, and life departed from his 
 body. This took place on September 22, 1774. 
 
 The news of the Pope's decease caused little sensation ; and 
 the Roman people heard it with indifference. His enemies gave 
 an indecent and unblushing expression to their joy, conveyed in the 
 most infamous satires, which they themselves carried from palace to 
 palace. This conduct was calculated to give rise to strange con- 
 jectures, and suspicions were indeed soon excited. The sight of 
 Ganganelli's dead body was quite sufficient to produce this effect ; 
 it did not even retain those lineaments which nature leaves to our 
 remains at the moment when death seizes upon them. Several days 
 previous to his death, his bones exfoliated and withered, to use the 
 forcible expression of Caraccioli, like a tree, which, struck at its root, 
 dies away and sheds its bark. The scientific men who were called in 
 to embalm the body, found the features livid, the lips black, the 
 abdomen inflated, the limbs emaciated and covered with violet 
 spots. The size of the heart was much diminished, and all the 
 muscles detached and decomposed in the spine. They filled the 
 body with perfumes and aromatic substances, but nothing could 
 dispel the mephitic exhalations. The entrails burst the vessel in 
 which they were deposited ; and when his pontifical robes were 
 taken from his body, a great portion of the skin adhered to them. 
 The hair of his head remained entire upon the velvet pillow upon 
 which it rested, and with the slightest friction all his nails fell off. 
 But enough of this hideous and sickening subject 
 
 The truth was too evident to admit of being overlooked from 
 private considerations: no one doubted at the time that Gan- 
 ganelli had met with a violent death. The physicians said 
 little, but the funeral obsequies disclosed sufficient proof of the 
 fact, and all Rome declared that Clement XIV. had perished by 
 the acqua tofana of Peruggia.* Denial came too late. The 
 mystery connected with this event has never been entirely re- 
 moved ; some assert that it was not poison, but the fear of 
 poison, that caused the death of Clement ; according to others, 
 
 * Gorani, an avowed enemy of the Holy See, denies however the poisonin 
 
 5' 
 
CHAP, n.] VARIOUS CAUSES ASSIGNED. 93 
 
 Gangtinelli died from the effects of remorse. Undoubtedly he 
 suffered from fear, but it liad not attacked the springs of life ; 
 with respect to his remorse, he abandoned himself to it only 
 during- fits of dejection, and for more than a year after the Edict 
 of Suppression he appeared to be wholly free from such a feeling. 
 Why such tardy regrets ? What crime had he committed in the 
 interval? Does remorse admit of postponement ? But whatever 
 may be alleged, it is difficult to combat respectable and reputable 
 witnesses. Bernis was always convinced of the poisoning of 
 Clement ; and a testimony from such a quarter is so important, 
 that we shall quote his ow^n words. The following is an extract 
 from the official correspondence of Bernis with the French 
 minister. The cardinal begins with doubt ; but his very hesita- 
 tion, which proves his candour, leads him only the more surely 
 to the discovery of the truth, which he attains step by step. 
 •' August 28th. — Those who judge imprudently or with malice 
 see nothing natural in the condition of the Pope : reasonings and 
 suspicions are hazarded with the greater facility, as certain atro- 
 cities are less rare in this country than in many others. Septem- 
 ber 2Sth. — The nature of the Pope's malady, and, above all, the 
 circumstances attending his death, give rise to a common belief 
 
 that it has not been from natural causes The Dhvsicians 
 
 who assisted at the opening of the body are cautious in their 
 remarks, and the surgeons speak with less circumspection. It is 
 better to credit the accounts of the former .than to pry into a 
 trutli of too afflicting a nature, and which it would perhaps be 
 distressing to discover. Octohei^ 26th. — When others shall come 
 to know as much as I do, from the certain documents which the 
 late pope communicated to me, the suppression will be deemed 
 very just and very necessary. The circumstances which have 
 preceded, accompanied, and followed the death of the late pope, 
 excite equal horror and compassion. ... I am now collecting 
 together the true circumstances attending the malady and death 
 of Clement XIV.,* who, the Vicar of Jesus Christ, prayed, like 
 the Redeemer, for his most implacable enemies ; and who carried 
 his conscientiousness so far as scarcely to let escape him the cruel 
 .•suspicions which preyed upon his mind since the close of the 
 holv week, the period when his maladv seized him. The truth 
 '° "We have in vain sought for this account ; it has disappeared. 
 
94 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. iv. 
 
 cannot be concealed from the king, sad as it may be, which will 
 be recorded in history." 
 
 We may judge of the force of the cardinal's conviction, which 
 drew from him such severe expressions against men whose un- 
 happy lot he had previously compassionated ; but there is an- 
 other and a more imposing testimony to the fact — that of Pope 
 Pius y I., the successor of Clement XIV. ; it is transmitted to 
 us also by Bernis, who speaks in the following cool and dispas- 
 sionate terms more than three years after the death of Gansa- 
 nelli. He wrote on the 28th of October, 1777, as follows : " I 
 know better than any one how far the affection of Pius VI. for 
 the ex-Jesuits extends, but he keeps on terms with them rather 
 than loves them, because fear has greater influence on his mind 
 and heart than friendship. . . . The pope has certain moments 
 of frankness, in which his true sentiments show themselves. I 
 shall never forget three or four effusions of his heart which he 
 betrayed w hen with me, by which I can judge that he was well 
 aware of the unhappy end of his predecessor, and that he was 
 anxious not to run the same risks." 
 
 Unhappy end, indeed, and too little merited, unless weakness 
 deserves to be punished as a crime ! Had not Ganganelli come 
 too soon after Lambertini, he would have played a great part in 
 his age. Grimm says this truly. If he had ascended the throne 
 about 1740 or 1750, Clement would have spent a perfectly happy 
 life ; he would hav» grown old, surrounded by public esteem, and 
 have worn in peace that triple crown which he had so long 
 coveted. After he had compromised himself by giving a pledge, 
 there remained only one of two sides for him to take, and 
 one was entirely honourable. The day after his accession to the 
 papal throne he ought to have suppressed the Jesuits, who 
 expected this ; or, if the maintenance of the Society appeared to 
 him a more sacred duty than the fulfilment of the promise he 
 had given, his proper course was to have braved the anger of the 
 King of Spain, to have printed his letters, and to have presented 
 a haughty front to the sovereigns of Europe, supported by the 
 bulls of his predecessors, and the bold apologies of the Order 
 which he would have saved. Of all measures which were 
 presented to him he chose the worst ; weakness -overcame his 
 proper judgment and discretion ; in fact, he possessed none of 
 
CHAP. IV.] GANGANELLrS QUALITIES. 95 
 
 the elements of greatness. His paneg^^rists, in their exaggerated 
 attempts to elevate his character, have in reality only lowered 
 it ; and their cold rhetoric has failed to alter the proportions 
 of his mind. Ganganelli, although enlightened and clever, 
 possessed no knowledge of human nature or human affairs ; 
 he had little skill in handling difficulties, and only sought to 
 evade them : his political course had neither elevation nor 
 ability. This picture may perhaps appear severe ; and when 
 we turn to the other traits of his character, his constant mo- 
 deration, his genuine spirit of tolerance, his morals, worthy of 
 the primitive church, we shall readily admit that the life of 
 Clement XIV. merits sincere respect, and his death lasting com- 
 passion. 
 
 In concluding this chapter, we desire that our motives may 
 not be misunderstood : we have given a simple narrative of 
 authentic facts, without arraigning any one. We do not at- 
 tempt to explain circumstances veiled in impenetrable mystery — 
 the secrets of the grave must be respected. 
 
96 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Consequences of the death of Clement XIV.— Election of Pius VL— His 
 reign— The Jesuits and Pius VI.— Palafox and Labre. 
 
 In consequence of the Brief of Suppression and the death of 
 Clement XIY., the Catholic states of Europe presented a sin- 
 gular spectacle. The sovereigns were freed from trouble and 
 suspense; and the victory which they had gained seemed to 
 them great and decisive. From their earliest years they had 
 been accustomed to see their predecessors engaged with the 
 affairs of the Jesuits and Jansenists more than other immediate 
 and important objects. Two great interests had filled the first 
 forty years of the eighteenth century — war and the bull ; but 
 in this unequal division of affairs, public attention had been 
 less attracted by the successes of generals and plenipotentiaries 
 than by the distribution of tickets of confession, the refusal 
 of the sacraments, and the tricks of fanatics. Sovereigns like 
 Charles III. and Louis XY., who had been brought up amidst 
 the tumult of these theological controversies, had imbibed from 
 them a deep and lasting impression. These squabbles were 
 augmented in their eyes by all the trouble they had occasioned ; 
 and as the only interruption which had been offered to the 
 peaceful exercise of unlimited power proceeded from these 
 scholastic disputes, they could neither be wholly overlooked nor 
 treated with a contemptuous neutrality. The spiritual com- 
 batants in these conflicts wielded the only visible power which 
 did not emanate from royal authority — and this was a fact which 
 kings themselves were compelled to recognise. In this position 
 the reigning princes of the time had but one course to take, — 
 either to adopt and protect tliis power, as their predecessors had 
 attempted to do, or to crush it. There remained no alternative, 
 no medium, between these two extremes; and, certainly, to 
 induce a Bourbon to declare against the Jesuits, that is to say, 
 
criAP. v.] JESUITS QUESTION VALIDITY OF THE BRIEF. S7 
 
 against the priesthood, was the greatest achievement of the age. 
 No Catholic sovereign could, in the face of such adversaries, affect 
 disdain. Thus, when they had accomplished the suppression of 
 a few monks, these princes experienced great joy : they were 
 freed from the only source of fear to which they were accessible, 
 and reposed confidently upon the future exercise of their autho- 
 rity, which, as tney firmly believed, had no other enemv to 
 combat but the pope and his spiritual power. 
 
 The ruins of an old convent appearea to them thenceforth tlie 
 immoveable foundation of the supreme power ! We are tempted 
 to smile at such a strange notion, which presents a curious 
 picture to our minds ; and in order to comprehend it rightly, 
 we must transport ourselves back into those days of unlimited 
 illusions and hopes that for a time preceded the thunderbolt 
 which dissipated them all. 
 
 A strange contrast existed between the Jesuits and the phi- 
 losophers ; the latter, who had hitherto been the avowed enemies 
 of the Holy See, were now loud in its praise ; the pope be- 
 came the hero of the Mercure and the Nouvelles a la Mam; and 
 whilst the memorj- of Clement XIV. was extolled in a quarter 
 where this was little to have been expected, the Jesuits and 
 their partisans proclaimed an anathema on the late pope. He 
 had not abandoned them until after a long struggle, and he 
 only yielded to absolute necessity in suppressing the society. 
 But the Jesuits never pardoned the ill-fated pontiff for hav- 
 ing made a sacrifice, v.hich nevertheless cost him his life ; they 
 made no allowance for the difficulties of his situation, but thought 
 only of their own fall. Defeated and exasperated, they did 
 not hesitate to declare war with Rome, without reflecting for an 
 instant upon the injury which their revolt would occasion to the 
 faith. Instead of submitting, with that humility of wliich 
 Fenelon had given them such a marked example, they called in 
 question the validity of the brief, and even went the length of 
 resisting and attacking the Holy See, regardless of the ridicule 
 of the philosophers and the contempt of the disaffected. Their 
 tongues were unrestrained, as their resentment was unlimited ; 
 and they surpassed even the school of Voltaire in audacity, 
 mocking and insulting a virtuous pope. At the same time they 
 neglected no means of ameliorating their condition ; although 
 
 H 
 
98 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. v. 
 
 overwhelmed on every side, misfortune had only the effect of 
 increasing their perseverance, and they found an unexpected 
 source of hope beyond the circle of the Catholic states. But 
 before we pause at this curious episode of so strange a history, 
 we must know something of the successor of Clement XIV. 
 The Jesuits and their partisans placed the greatest reliance upon 
 the future election ; they cherished the hope that the work of 
 one pope might be destroyed by another — an event which was 
 certainly possible, since it has taken place, but for the realization 
 of which they had to wait forty years. 
 
 We will not take the reader again into the conclave ; he has 
 seen the motives that influenced the discontents and passions which 
 prevailed in it. On this occasion Spain again assumed an im- 
 perious tone, and France supported its measures, whilst Vienna 
 remained neuter. After a delay of a hundred and thirty-eight 
 days, Florida Blanca, seconded by Bernis, decided the election. 
 Cardinal Pallavicini, fixed upon by these ministers, declined with 
 unaffected modesty to accept the office ; he belonged to the mo- 
 derate party. The pope could be chosen only from their ranks ; 
 but to obtain unanimity in the votes, it was requisite that he 
 should be a friend to the princes without being an enemy to the 
 Jesuits ; and it was also desirable that the successor of the rustic 
 Clement XIV. should be distinguished by a fine person and a 
 liberal or even splendid style of living. Everything, even his 
 very humility, was brought as a reproach against the memory of 
 Ganganelli : he was accused of having lowered the majesty of the 
 pontifical ceremonies by an affected simplicity, he had disturbed 
 the faith, which has need of visible signs, he had repelled the 
 assembly of the faithful, whilst in the sovereign pontiff he had 
 betrayed the man. These murmurs were not confined to the 
 circles of the prelates and nobles ; the people of Rome took a 
 lively part in them. Rome thirsted for a pontificate which 
 should foster luxury and the arts, and the choice of another 
 Leo X. became the ruling idea in the conclave. 
 
 Cardinal Braschi was elected, and assumed the name of 
 Pius VI. Under Clement XIII. the new pope had been 
 apostolic treasurer or minister of finance. In an ill-regulated 
 government it is difficult to fill this post with honour ; but 
 Braschi exercised its functions with an integrity that has never 
 
CHAP, v.] BRASCHI ELECTED POPE. 99 
 
 been disputed. Clement XIY. did not like him, but never- 
 theless he was just, and he bestowed the hat on Braschi. On 
 the death of this pontiff, however, Braschi was disgraced and lost 
 amongst the crowd of cardinals. Was it that a moral incompa- 
 tibility existed between him and Ganganelli, or a difference of 
 opinion concerning the fate of the Jesuits ? Be this as it may, it 
 was precisely the absence of connection between Braschi and any 
 party that recommended him to the choice of all : he was not 
 tied to any faction, and his previous conduct gave some grounds of 
 hope to all parties. Each one remembered with satisfaction that 
 Braschi had gained the esteem of Benedict XIV., the favour of 
 Clement XIII., the patronage of Clement XIV., and the pro- 
 tection of the Jesuits. It was an arsenal where everj^ one found 
 weapons that suited him. Thus, thanks to the general desire for 
 conciliation, and the secret hope of obtaining an influence over 
 the new pope, all parties united in opening the doors of the 
 Vatican to Pius VI. 
 
 At the solemn moment of election, a pope of the nineteenth 
 centur}^,* being asked, according to custom, whether he accepted 
 or declined the office, candidly replied, " Since you wish me to 
 be pope, I consent willingly." Such simplicity was not in 
 Braschi's character : at the moment when his name was drawn 
 from the balloting urn, he threw himself on his knees, his eyes 
 filled with tears, and exclaimed, " Venerable fathers, your as- 
 sembly is terminated, but how unhappy for me is its result !" 
 His fears, however, quickly vanished before the brightest prospect 
 that ever opened on a pope since the palmy days of the pontificate. 
 The beginning of the reign of Pius VI. was all joy and splendour ; 
 in its dazzling and graceful pomp the Rome of the Medici seemed 
 revived. 
 
 The new pope was destined to effect the external restoration 
 of the Holy See ; and if he was chosen with a view to this 
 object, no assembly ever showed more tact and foresight. Every- 
 thing contributed to fit him for this office, — his deportment, 
 countenance, inclinations, and the style of his eloquence. More 
 than once, during the reign of his modest predecessor, Braschi 
 had deplored the neglect into which the traditions of the church 
 
 * Pius VIII. (Castiglioni), who reigned less than a year (1829 to 1830). 
 
 h2 
 
100 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. v. 
 
 had fallen ; and from the moment of his accession he determined 
 to restore their lustre, which had been too long effaced. The 
 Romans, accustomed to the delicate, intellectual, but unimposing 
 physiognomy of Benedict XIV., the devotion of Clement XIIL, 
 and the vulgar good-humour of Ganganelli's features, were filled 
 with the liveliest emotion when, at the ceremony of the holy 
 year, they beheld advancing towards the mystic door an aged 
 man, distinguished by an air of majesty. " This is indeed," they 
 said, " the pontiff-king ! how plainly does he assume the double 
 character !" His stature was tall, the expression on his face 
 sweet and august : not a wrinkle blemished his features, which 
 were still animated with a slight colour : his forehead was bald, 
 but a few white locks escaped from the tiara that rested upon it, 
 shading his temples and neck. He walked wrapped in a garment 
 of white spangled with gold, and a golden hammer glittered in 
 his hand. He strikes the sacred door, — it falls ; a thousand arms 
 are raised to demolish it, and the people rush over its ruins. At 
 length, followed by a long procession, he seats himself upon the 
 throne, or rather the altar. It is needless to repeat the picture 
 of the Roman ceremonies given by so many travellers and histo- 
 rians, to describe the cardinals bent in adoration before him who 
 was yesterday their equal, or to paint the crowd of spectators, 
 the ecclesiastical and temporal princes, the clouds of incense, 
 the flax burnt in token of humility, the waving of long Indian 
 fans, in short the mixture of oriental pageantry and Catholic 
 pomp. In these ancient ceremonies there is nothing peculiar to 
 the pontificate of Pius VI. ; and yet, when seen in the midst 
 of these solemnities, he seemed to have been the first to preside 
 at them ; it might even have been imagined that he had created 
 them, so well did they become him, and so perfect was the har- 
 mony between the pontiff and the temple, Pius VI. and St. Peter's. 
 It was natural that the Romans should welcome such a pope 
 as a benefactor, and never was a pontiff received with more 
 prompt, spirited, or heartfelt acclamations. It might be ex- 
 pected that habit would long ago have effaced these impressions, 
 but, far from this being the case, the ceremonies of the church 
 serve continually to renew them. The crowd of strangers at- 
 tracted to Rome by curiosity are never tired of their repetition, 
 still less the Romans, who find in them both their pleasure and 
 
CHAP, v.] DEVOTION OF ROME TO PIUS VI. 101 
 
 their pride. Born with an instinctive love for the arts, these 
 people enter into the poetry of their native country ; they feel 
 that the ragged dress worn by a Roman assumes the dignity and 
 grace of the ancient toga, and that in the women of the Tran- 
 stevere is still to be seen the severe beauty of Cornelia. In 
 their confused, but highly-coloured historical knowledge, the 
 triumphs of the emperors are mixed up with those of the popes : 
 Caesar is as familiar to them as Sixtus V., and Donna Olympia 
 as Nero. When they behold the concourse of men drawn to 
 Rome from all nations, and witness the homage paid to the 
 venerable man who rules them, the people of Rome fancy that 
 they have not entirely lost the empire of the world. It is not 
 surprising therefore that, in the earlier period of this pontificate, 
 the devotion of Rome to Pius VI. was a kind of idolatry, and 
 that at his appearance a woman was heard rapturously to ex- 
 claim, " Quanto e bello ! quanto e bello !" while another replied 
 with the same enthusiasm, " Quanto e bello, tanto e santo !" 
 
 At the same time, if he had confined himself to ceremonies 
 the success of this expedient alone would have been doubtful. 
 Rome must have festivals, but she also requires pictures and 
 sculpture. Pius VI. shared this passion for the arts : he was 
 born a pope, and, excepting in morals, a pope of the sixteenth 
 century. He could not find a Michael Angelo or Raphael, 
 nor supply the force and charm of those divine artists by the 
 cold colouring of a Pompeo Battoni, the pedantic mannerism 
 of Raphael Mengs, or the feeble talent of Angelica Kaufiman, 
 more interesting herself than in her works; but the views of 
 Pius VI. were lofty, his expenditure royal, and his love of art 
 enlightened and persevering. On this rests his fame : he had 
 laid its foundations in the preceding reign ; whilst occupying the 
 post of apostolic treasurer, he was continually urging Clement 
 XIV. to restore the Museum of the Vatican. Ganganelli lis- 
 tened to him favourably, and intrusted to him the charge of the 
 undertaking. Pius VI. began it whilst minister, and as pope 
 he raised it to the deg^ree of mao:nificence which renders the 
 pontifical abode the greatest palace, museum, and temple in the 
 world. By his orders a number of statues were brought from 
 the ruins of Antium, Preneste, and the villa of Tibur, where 
 the Emperor Adrian had collected the masterpieces of art of 
 
102 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. v. 
 
 "which he had despoiled the public monuments. Immense halls, 
 opening on to the grand landscapes of the Roman Campagna, 
 lined with jasper, and paved with mosaics, were raised to re- 
 ceive these treasures. The eye loses itself in the perspective of 
 galleries, staircases, and porticos, which are as rich as they are 
 numerous. The Apollo and the Laocoon, till then thrown aside 
 in an obscure corner, were placed by AYinkelmann in arched 
 recesses, at each end of a vast rotunda, skilfully lighted, and kept 
 constantly cool by the play of fountains. In short, the facility of 
 access, the charm of a resort for study, convenient regulations, 
 exquisite taste in the details as well as in the whole, were united 
 with extreme magnificence ; and although Pius VI. might ex- 
 clusively claim the merit of this noble work, he contented him- 
 self with associating his memory with that of his predecessor. 
 He gave the name of the Museo Pio- Clementino to that building 
 where admiration everywhere met Braschi, and never sought for 
 Ganganelli. 
 
 Literature was then in a languishing state. Pius VI. was 
 gifted with eloquence, perhaps too verbose, but heightened in 
 effect by his touching and sonorous voice ; he was fond of speak- 
 ing in public, but there is nothing to prove that he had a taste 
 for literature. Doubtless, as a means of fame, he would have 
 eagerly welcomed a Gerusalemme or a Divina Commedia ;* but 
 he only obtained sonnets. In the place of Tasso, he crowned 
 in the capitol an old and indifferent poetess, the improvisatrice 
 Gorilla. 
 
 The enterprises of Pius VI. at this period of his pontificate 
 were all brilliant, whatever faults he may be subsequently 
 charged with. Crowds of strangers flocked to the city, and 
 the report spread that Rome was resuscitated. These were 
 not pious pilgrimages, but parties of pleasures boasting the 
 most brilliant talent in Europe — philosophers, poets, magistrates, 
 politicians, rich capitalists, elegant women, fortune, beauty, re- 
 nown, all, of whatever sex or religion, came to kneel at the foot 
 of the papal throne. Among the various motives that attracted 
 people from all parts of Europe to Rome, religion was the only 
 
 * Monti, as well as Cesarotti, belongs only to the latter years of Pius VL's 
 reiffu, and neither of them is a Dante, or even a Torquato. The coronation 
 of Gorilla suggested to Madame de Stael the idea of Corinue. 
 
CHAP. V.J POLICY OF PIUS VI. 103 
 
 one excluded ; in all this eagerness she had no share. Pius VI. 
 perceived this, but felt that he must neither resent it nor exhibit 
 too worldly a satisfaction. He received all this homage with the 
 dignity of a pope and the grace of a man of the world ; inhe- 
 riting the tolerance of Lambertini and Ganganelli, but giv- 
 ing to it a more imposing character. He understood how to 
 make outward sacrifices to the spirit of the times ; and by adopt- 
 ing a peculiar tone and a well-discriminated choice of words, 
 skilfully adapted to circumstances, he knew how to reconcile 
 religion and policy. At the very time when, seated on his 
 throne, he was taking part with profound veneration in the 
 solemnities of the mass, the papal chapel was by his orders filled 
 with protestants. Such an audience would not have been his 
 choice ; but, aware that Rome had ceased to be a universal con- 
 fessional, he made it a bridge of alliance for the European 
 nations. He offered a secure asylum to all religions, within those 
 walls where formerly one alone was admitted. There was in 
 fact nothing to fear from this diversity of opinion : strangers 
 met at Rome on neutral ground, attracted and united by a 
 common love for ancient art. Winkelmann had spread, even 
 amongst the women, a taste for archaeology, and it became the 
 fashion to admire the ruins which had until then lain neglected. 
 Pius YI. adroitly took advantage of this new impulse ; he brought 
 to light buried ruins, took measures for their preservation, and 
 had them described in works printed in a style of beauty at that 
 time rare. It was thus that he made ancient Rome contribute 
 to the splendour of Christian Rome; the cause of the present was 
 eloquently pleaded by the past, and kings left their palaces to 
 contemplate that of the Caesars. On this instructive scene ap- 
 peared, in turn, the heir to the Russian empire, the King of Eng- 
 land's brothers, the virtuous mother of the present King of 
 the French, the sovereigns of Tuscany and Naples, Gustavus 
 III. of Sweden, and lastly, for the second time, the Emperor 
 Joseph II. 
 
 Pius was admirably seconded by Cardinal de Bernis, the 
 French ambassador.* A wrong impression of the character of 
 
 * We say ambassador for th« sake of cloamess, for the cardinals never 
 deigned to bear this title ; they merely called themselves charycs dcs a^ aires. 
 Cardinal de Bernis filled this post until the revolution. 
 
104 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. y. 
 
 Bernis must not be formed from the narrative of the difficult cir- 
 cumstances in which he was placed during the conclave of 
 Clement XIV. With less straightforwardness he would have 
 succeeded better : the temper of his mind did not lead him to 
 manceuvre in a labyrinth of intrigue, but under the noble 
 Pius VI., whose character was so analogous to his own, he up- 
 held the French name in all its dignity. We have seen old men 
 who remembered with transport Cardinal de Bernis's assemblies : 
 no ambassador of France ever kept up greater state ; prodigious 
 splendour, combined with the finest taste, presided at the truly 
 royal receptions of this prince of the church. Madame deGenlis, 
 who lived at the brilliant court of the Palais Royal, says in her 
 Memoirs : " I have never seen any magnificence surpassing that 
 '* of the Cardinal de Bernis .... he did the honours of his house 
 " inimitably. There was a mixture of good-nature and pene- 
 " tration about him, of dignity and simplicity, that made him 
 " the most amiable man I have ever known." Every day he 
 kept a liberal and open table, served with profusion : he had an 
 immense number of livery servants, a crowd oi maestri di camera^ 
 di capella^ grooms and pages, and continual fetes, concerts, con- 
 versazioni, — in fact, a court. On the master's part there was 
 nothing like haughtiness or stiffness : the kindest reception was 
 given to every body, suited, no doubt, to their rank and age, 
 but not with such distinctions as to make politeness affronting. 
 A tone of noble and decorous gallantry prevailed ; many women 
 were always present of high rank, of striking beauty, some- 
 times of light conduct, but there was never any scandal in the 
 French palace : whatever is agreeable and graceful was to be 
 found there — nothing more. In short, Bernis maintained through- 
 out an air of the utmost grandeur, represented his country 
 with imposing state, and enjoyed at the Vatican, as well 
 as Versailles, unquestioned honour. In his palace in the 
 Corso, the cardinal de Bernis had all the honours of sovereignty. 
 He used to say, with graceful affectation, tliat he " kept the 
 French inn in one of the highways of Europe," — an inn, in- 
 deed, where kings rested. 
 
 The ideas of Pius VI. were not only gorgeous, but truly 
 grand ; and, what is rare in a pope, their greatness was applied 
 to the progress of industry, to material and practical improve- 
 
CHAP, v.] POLICY OF PIUS VI. 105 
 
 ments. If he had confined himself to the inferior reputation of 
 an antiquary, histor}^ would have left his name to the catalogues 
 of museums. She would have passed over the feeble imitator of 
 the Medici, who, mistaking vanity for enthusiasm, vainly sought 
 to recover Italy from her dying state. But Pius VI. had a 
 mind of a loftier cast ; his views did not stop at the marbles 
 in his collections, or the groups of adorers prostrated at his 
 feet. His love for humanity prompted him to relieve it, 
 nor was he content with a mere customary charity, which 
 is often exclusive ; visits to hospitals, and indiscriminate 
 alms-giving, could not satisfy his generous compassion. Too 
 many popes have regarded Rome only as an assemblage of 
 palaces and churches ; but Pius VI. observed that at a short 
 distance beyond lay the commencement of a desert — a beautiful 
 desert, which no painter or poet would exchange for the most 
 productive soil, but where men who are neither painters or poets 
 may barely live, but never find health. He learned that this 
 lovely coast, so often celebrated, the shore once covered with 
 towns and villas, drained by canals, enriched by ports, the 
 points and promontories surmounted by moles, lighthouses, and 
 temples, — Laurentum, Ardeus, Lavinia, Antium, — in short, the 
 whole theatre of the last six books of the -^neid, had return<?d 
 to the barbarous times of Latinus and Evander. Grass had 
 overgrown the ruins, and the cottages, which had once been 
 supplanted by palaces, had re-appeared. What a country and 
 what cottages ! — a barren arid soil, and unpeopled plains undu- 
 lating like the sea ; the only objects breaking the monotony 
 being a few arches of a broken aqueduct, or the shaft of an 
 isolated column, with a troop of buffaloes, chased by herdsmen 
 clothed in skins and mounted on untamed horses. 
 
 Further along the strand, under the shade of a tuft of cork or 
 ash trees, might be seen a rude hut, the haunt of a few charcoal- 
 burners or fishermen, pale and sallow with fever. Wretched dis- 
 trict, where even theft is scarcely possible, not from the ab- 
 sence of immorality, but of inhabitants ! — £C shifting and pes- 
 tilential soil lying at the very gates of Rome. At the foot of 
 the Apennines, on the frontiers of the ancient Campania, a wide 
 valley opens, extending to the sea. Two rivers, the Ufenso and 
 
106 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. v. 
 
 the Amaseno, fed by a multitude of little streams, convert it, 
 especially in the rainy season, into a vast marsh : hence its name, 
 the Pontine Marshes.* 
 
 Pius VI. resolved to render these marshes healthy, but unfor- 
 tunate suggestions led to the failure of these wise projects. Su- 
 perior as he was to his immediate predecessors as a statesman, 
 he sank almost to their level from want of perseverance, and 
 especially from a tendency to that complaint, unknown in our 
 day, but which had been for ages hereditary in the papacy — 
 nepotism. 
 
 Under his favour the Jesuits attempted to regain the place 
 they had lost, but their efforts were not crowned with success. 
 Pius VI. pitied them in secret, and only awaited an oppor- 
 tunity to declare his protection openly, but circumstances 
 delayed this avowal. The Society of Jesus, which had been 
 broken up, now gathered together its scattered members. 
 Florida Blanca, in his eagerness and activity, sought to ex- 
 tort from the pope a new confirmation of the brief. The 
 Spanish envoy resumed the prayers and threats which he 
 had by turns employed upon Ganganelli, but his con- 
 duct was far from bringing about the same result. In Cle- 
 ment XIV. fear produced despair and insanity, whereas in 
 the case of Pius VI. it cost him neither a day's health nor an 
 hour of his life. The shock which overcame Ganganelli could 
 not even move the fortunate Braschi ; and what in Clement XIV. 
 was a wide, deep, envenomed wound, in Pius VI. scarcely 
 amounted to a trifling scratch. His courage was reserved for 
 other trials, and the arts of the Jesuits and diplomatists had 
 no power to disturb his serenity. Braschi knew the value of 
 life, and did not throw away its emotions. It would therefore 
 be useless to relate these intrigues, the faint image or feeble echo 
 of the negotiations of the preceding pontificate. They may be 
 told in a few words : Spain had lost none of her activity, and 
 France followed in her steps from habit, whilst the pope opposed 
 to these two courts the stratagems of perpetual adjournment. 
 
 * Count de Tournon, Etudes siir Rome, book v. chap. 9. This work is 
 the most correct and interesting that has been published on the states of the 
 church, considered pohtically and economically. 
 
CHAP, v.] DEATH OF RICCI. 107 
 
 The principal question at this period was the fate of the 
 general of the Jesuits ; Ricci was languishing in captivity, and 
 Spain demanded that he should be sentenced. Pius VI. wished 
 at all risks to avoid this, and in order to gain time he negotiated 
 the removal of his prisoner into Tuscany : his perplexity was 
 great, but it was brought to a close by Ricci's death. The aged 
 head of the Society died at the castle of St. Angelo, after pro- 
 testins: in writino: his own innocence and that of his Order. Ricci 
 winds up the simple recital of the purity of his intentions with 
 these words : " What I have said, I have said for the honour of 
 ?r»i/ Order, ajid with no other motive.'^ What is to be concluded 
 from this restriction ? Does it not give room to suppose cal- 
 culation even at the last ? Would it naturally be taken for the 
 independent and sincere expression of a duty fulfilled ? There 
 is certainly some obscurity in this language, but it is not well 
 to cavil at the words of a dying man; at the point of death a 
 mistake is more ready than an untruth. 
 
 The departure of Florida Blanca followed soon after Ricci's 
 death, and was another relief to the pope. The rude envoy of 
 Spain was called to the head of the cabinet of Madrid ; whilst his 
 predecessor in the ministry', the gentle and inoffensive Grimaldi, 
 succeeded him at Rome. Pius VI. gained by this exchange, 
 but he could not hope to escape, even at a distance, from the 
 restless watchfulness of Florida Blanca, who warmly insisted on 
 his demands, and solicited with more vehemence than ever the 
 long-desired canonization of Palafox, bishop of Osma. 
 
 Histor}'- would pass over these details did they not contain the 
 account of two very decided parties in the Romish church — the 
 supporters and the opponents of the Jesuits. The Spaniard, John 
 Palafox, born in 1600, had been bishop of Puebla de los Angeles 
 in Mexico. He had become famous for his virtues, and still 
 more for his struggle with the Society of Jesus, which he 
 denounced to the court of Rome. Palafox died bishop of Osma 
 in Castille, on the 30th of September, 1659. The Jesuits hated 
 his memor}'^, whilst the whole people of Spain were passionately 
 attached to it. The king, clergy, peasants, and the mountaineers 
 of the Sierra Morena, all demanded the apotheosis of Palafox ; 
 in fact it became a subject of national interest. Now-a-days it is 
 
108 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. v. 
 
 difficult to understand the importance of such a matter. In the 
 eighteenth century the name of Palafox occurred perpetually in 
 the despatches addressed to Rome : the king of Spain exerted 
 himself indefatigably to obtain his canonization, and the other 
 Catholic courts seconded his efforts. The resistance of the Jesuit 
 party was as tenacious as the solicitations of Spain were ardent. 
 Nothing could tire out the combatants. The debate lasted fifty- 
 one years, under four pontificates (from 1726 to 1777), but still 
 without any issue. Pius VI. held a meeting to determine the 
 question, and he took the votes, but decided nothing. 
 
 The king of Spain insisted on a canonization : the Jesuits also 
 wished to have a saint, and after a long search they found one, — 
 a Frenchman. *' Admire," said they, " that Providence, which 
 draws its elect even from the midst of the Amalekites." He 
 was a beggar, which was a still happier chance ; his ignorance 
 eclipsed the false lights of philosophy. His name was Labre : 
 his dead body was found leaning against a curbstone, and pre- 
 serving all the freshness of life. This report set the neighbouring 
 town in a ferment : the entire population rushed to the church, 
 where the corpse was exposed for three days. All threw them- 
 selves at the foot of the new intercessor ; guards were obliged to 
 be posted, and none but the sick admitted, — who came back 
 cured. But posthumous miracles were not enough, — no one had 
 ever heard of Labre before, and it was necessary to revert to his 
 life. He was declared to be a prophet, but what his revelations 
 had been, remained a secret ; people's minds were however pre- 
 pared for great things. A French painter, wishing to profit by 
 the fashion, pretended to have known the saint, and produced his 
 portrait ; he had it engraved, and sold 40,000 copies in twenty- 
 four hours. In short, the enthusiasm became so general, that the 
 cardinal vicar named a commission of twelve persons to proceed 
 to the beatification. Everybody left his name at the palace of 
 the Cardinal de Bernis, and offered him congratulations on this 
 accession of glory to France. Bernis received them politely ; 
 he was conversant with human nature, and wished above all to 
 live in peace.* 
 
 * This is the tone in which Bernis spoke of Labre : — ■" They are printing 
 here the Life of the French beggar, with a list of his pretended miracles ; 
 
CHAP, v.] THE BEGGAR LABRE. 109 
 
 The zeal for Labre was at its height, when at tl)e end of a 
 few months if ceased as if by magic. "When the virtues of Labre 
 were mentioned, the friends of the Jesuits scarcely answered ; 
 when his prophecies or miracles were spoken of, tliey were silent 
 or changed the conversation. The ex- Jesuit Zaccaria, who was 
 employed in writing the life of this worker of miracles, stopped 
 the printing of his book. AYhat had happened ? Here was at 
 first a mystery, but it soon came to light : the Jansenists were 
 jealous of their antagonists : they had supported Clement XIV., 
 l)ut without success. Whether from bad management or spite, 
 they found no one to replace him, and they set up a claim to 
 the saint of the Jesuits : * to make a Jansenist of Labre was 
 a party manoeuvre. A report was spread that the saint used 
 to read the works of a father Lejeune, a disciple of Quesnel ; 
 from this moment Labre ceased to effect cures, and prophesied 
 no more. 
 
 The whole affair seemed at an end; Labre, belonging to 
 Port-Royal, ceased to be of any importance. But tlie Jesuits 
 did not consider themselves beaten, and obstinately maintained 
 that Labre had never read the books of Quesnel's church, — the 
 proof of which was that he could not read.f 
 
 This absurd anecdote seems quite unworthy of history, and 
 would be so, if Labre, now completely forgotten, had not at 
 this period attracted so much the attention of Europe : for a 
 time every diplomatic despatch was filled with a mention of this 
 man. Pius VI. took no active part in this reaction of Jesuitism : 
 
 the ex-Jesuit Zaccaria is the author It is very certain that in this 
 
 matter (the beatification of Labre) none of the rules established in tlie con- 
 gregation of rites are attended to ; enthusiasm carries everything before it. 
 The least of its bad efi"ects probably -will be its absurdity." — Despatch of 
 18th June, 1783. 
 
 * The Cardinal de Bemis, after giving all these details, finishes "with 
 these words : — " A few days ago, any one who attached weight to these 
 observations would have been held impious." He adds : " From the news 
 1 have just received from Rome, it seems that the Jesuit party will not 
 give up the canonization of Labre. I know, however, that the sacred 
 college has quite changed its opinion on this subject.'" — Despatch of 29th 
 July, 1783, dated Albano, where the cardinal was bishop, and passed the 
 summer. All this story of Labre belongs, as is seen, to the year 1783 ; and 
 is given here by anticipation. 
 
 t Labre was only beatified under the pontificate of Pius VIL It was 
 one of the consequences of the Jesuits' triumph. 
 
no THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. y. 
 
 he shut his eyes and let things take their course, absorbed by- 
 more pressing and weightier interests. In fact his relations with 
 the court of Vienna required all his attention ; and the reader 
 would be ill acquainted with the spirit of this epoch, if we left 
 him in ignorance of what was passing between Joseph II. and 
 Pius VI. — the pope and the emperor. 
 
CHAP. ^^.] ACCESSION OF JOSEPH 11. Ill 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Joseph II. — His ecclesiastical reforms — Visit of Pius VI. to Vienna — 1782 
 
 and 1804. 
 
 The illustrious Maria Theresa had breathed her last, and 
 Joseph II. ascended the throne. His accession to the hereditary 
 sovereignty of Hungary, Bohemia, and Austria, signalized a new 
 era in the relations of the church and the empire; or rather it 
 revived, although in a verj' different degree, the days of their 
 ancient antagonism. Maria Theresa had averted the explosion 
 of these differences, which, it Mas easy to foresee, would break 
 out at her death. Thus, a knowledge of all that relates to the 
 early period of the government of Joseph, is indispensable to a 
 correct acquaintance with the ecclesiastical histor}- of this por- 
 tion of the eighteenth century. 
 
 " Up to the present time," writes Joseph to Kaunitz on the 
 yery night of the death of Maria Theresa, " I have studied only 
 to be an obedient son, and this is nearly all I have learnt." 
 This was a great mistake ; but in the first moments of his acces- 
 sion Joseph might deceive himself as to the past, and imagine 
 himself an obedient son. Joseph and his mother never under- 
 stood one another, and their lives had passed in a continual but 
 latent contest ; nevertheless death heals past differences, diminishes 
 resentment, and substitutes a respectful and tender feeling of 
 forgiveness for the bitterness of griefs or injuries. As soon as 
 Maria Theresa was dead, every association seemed to endear her 
 memory to Joseph, — habit, veneration, gratitude, pride, all in 
 turn invested her character with affectionate reverence. Of all 
 the honours which that great woman bequeathed to tlie young 
 emperor, the highest was, in his eyes, the title of her son. When 
 he surveyed the numerous portraits of her in the palace at Vienna, 
 Joseph recalled, with a melancholy feeling of pride, the great and 
 unexpected success which had marked her career, the numerous 
 
112 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vi. 
 
 advantageous alliances she had made, the marked renown she had 
 acquired, her heroic courage in misfortune, and her spotless and 
 unexampled purity, in spite of all the seductions of youth, 
 beauty, and power. To crown all these reminiscences, Joseph 
 remembered with pride that the infant whom Maria Theresa had 
 held in her arms, when she presented him to the faithful Hun- 
 garians, was himself. 
 
 These impressions, however, although strong and serious, were 
 not likely to retain their force : the emperor mourned for his 
 motner ; but after paying this tribute to nature, he turned his 
 thoughts ai once to the future. This was, indeed, a solemn 
 moment for a young monarch of so ardent a temperament. 
 Freed from all tutelage and restraint, he was now the head of a 
 mighty empire. Death had dissolved the sacred ties of nature, 
 and given him independence; and the imperial crown, which 
 had been a plaything in his hands, had at last become the symbol 
 of real authority. The command of the troops, which until then 
 had been a source of vexation, was no longer a mere shadow of 
 power ; and when he called them to the field as their lord and 
 master, his will would no longer be restrained by another ; the 
 love of glory would no longer be chargeable as an act of 
 rebellion ! The army was at his sole disposal, the decrees 
 of one single will and authority were thenceforth to be the 
 law of the empire, whilst the wealth and resources of four 
 kingdoms were at his command to execute that will ; nor had he 
 longer to apply submissively to a minister for any little pecuniary 
 grant. Here was an end to all 'quarrels and artifice, to all 
 secrets leading to explanations, and explanations degenerating 
 into disputes. Instead of constraint, discord, wounded vanity, 
 and the perpetual failure of the best-concerted plans, Joseph 
 might now look forward to general tranquillity, respect, and abun- 
 dance, — the guarantee of success abroad, and the consequence of 
 internal reform. The able minister who managed the affairs of 
 the state would be retained ; but he would thenceforth regard the 
 emperor as his liege sovereign, perhaps as a friend, and no longer 
 in the light of a courtier. Here was truly a vast and noble 
 prospect ; a great career opened to the emperor, to succeed and 
 to reward his long and irksome period of probation. 
 
 Flattering thoughts and expectations such as these doubtless 
 
CHAP. VI.] JOSEPH'S VIEWS OF REFORM. 113 
 
 occurred to the mind of Joseph II., and weighed in the scale 
 against the regrets which he experienced as a son. He yielded 
 to their influence readily, and his ambition was kindled bv 
 laudable motives and sincere intentions. Struck with the nu- 
 merous admitted abuses which existed in Austria under the 
 reigns of his predecessors, he directed his attention, as soon as he 
 ascended the throne, not to tlieir reformation, but abolition. 
 
 He desired the welfare of his subjects, but he wished to ac- 
 complish it in a uniform manner ; he could not enter at all into 
 the moral characters, habits, reminiscences, or prejudices of 
 others — a faculty which is even more necessary to the sovereign 
 than to the poet. His subjects were in his eyes merely ill- 
 arranged masses, and he resolved to effect a general and arith- 
 metical revision of them — that is to say, to treat all the various 
 countries he sfoverned, notwithstandino- their discordant or 
 opposite characters, as one whole, naturally connected and 
 compacted together. Animated as he was by high and proud 
 motives, and an ardent desire to promote the public welfare, 
 Joseph recognised only one instrument of civilization — the 
 exercise of a purely arbitrary' sway : he went straight onward, 
 following a narrow path, and not conceiving the possibilit\^ of 
 anv other. If, in these first moments of infatuation, his thouo;-hts 
 were turned to a popular revolt, caused by the despotic exercise 
 of his benevolent views, — if he by chance imagined that a nation 
 mio;ht refuse to be rendered prosperous and happy on these con- 
 ditions, — he must have rejected this idea as a chimerical ab- 
 surdity. 
 
 This direction of his thoughts, or rather this turn of his cha- 
 racter, was confirmed by his pride. Joseph imagined himself gifted 
 with everj' kind of talent — legislation, administration, war, ap- 
 peared to be all natural to him, and he entered upon this vast 
 career without fear or hesitation.* According to his own repre- 
 sentation, the scruples of Maria Theresa had repressed his om- 
 niscience ; from the heiffht of .his disdain he looked down con- 
 temptuously upon mankind ; and, imagining himself delegated by 
 
 * Joseph II. often said that "Providence had endowed sovereigns with a 
 peculiar instinct for governing, and that their opinions and advice ought to 
 have a natural preference over the counsels of their ministers." — Despatch 
 of Prince Louis de Rohan, July ICth, 1773. 
 
 I 
 
114 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vi. 
 
 Providence to the accomplishment of a great task, he engaged in 
 it without pity and without fear. 
 
 Joseph II. resolved, above all, to destroy the ecclesiastical 
 domination which had for ages been established in Germany : he 
 was indignant that an emperor should bow before a Jesuit. The 
 Order was suppressed in the hereditar}^ states of the house of 
 Austria, but its spirit still survived. Nor was the institution 
 of St. Ignatius the only adversary which Joseph had deter- 
 mined to subdue : he coveted a power over all the clergj^, and 
 especially over their wealth. This was a project which had 
 been long postponed, but his determination to carry it into 
 execution was fixed and irrevocable. In this resolution he was 
 confirmed by his brother the Grand Duke of Tuscany,* and 
 especially, at the time of his journey into the south of France, 
 by the Archbishop of Toulouse, afterwards Cardinal of Lo- 
 menia."!" 
 
 Since the Reformation, and above all since the thirty years' 
 war, religious liberty had entirely disappeared in the Austrian 
 states. The schools and seminaries were exclusively in the 
 hands of the Jesuits, a society which was still in its infancy, but 
 born to command. Their doctrine was established, without op- 
 position, in the palace of the emperors and the archdukes of 
 Austria ; it ruled the Electors of Bavaria, and thenceforth none 
 of these princes imagined his soul to be safe unless it was in the 
 charge of a Jesuit. 
 
 These raonarchs were indissolubly attached not only to the 
 Holy See, but to the temporal interests of the papacy, by re- 
 ligious zeal and habit, strengthened by hostility to the encroach- 
 ing spirit of Protestantism. The weak-minded emperors of this 
 period, such as Rodolph, Leopold, and Ferdinand, recognised 
 unhesitatingly the power of the See of Rome. Nothing disturbed 
 the repose of the imperial palaces, which were guarded and be- 
 sieged by legates, cardinals, princely prelates, and Jesuits — a 
 host of priests of every denomination and monks of every 
 colour. 
 
 Notwithstanding the spirit of innovation which actuated the 
 emperor Joseph I., the uncle of Maria Theresa, on the 
 
 * Breteuil to D'Aiguillon, July 26th, 1775. 
 f Caraccioli, Vie de Joseph IL, p. 84. 
 
CHAP. VI.] IMPRUDENT CONDUCT OF CLEMENT XIII. 115 
 
 accession of that princess, the German clergy' remained at heart 
 attached to the Holy See. The empress, just escaped from so many 
 perils and disasters, had paid little attention to religious reforms, 
 whilst her piety also deterred her from so bold an enterprise. 
 Gifted, however, in a high degree with that perfection of good 
 sense which is the true genius of sovereigns, she had perceived, 
 during her misfortunes, the extreme difference of civilization 
 Mhich rendered the Catholic portion of Germany so inferior to 
 the Protestant States. She saw that this was no effect of natural 
 causes, the soil of Austria being more fertile than the sands of 
 Brandenburo- : but that the true cause of the inferiority was to 
 to be found in the circumstance, that Austria, fertile as she is, 
 possesses too many convents and too few farms. ]Maria Theresa 
 was struck by this fact : she attempted to diminish the former 
 and to multiply the latter ; but an invincible obstacle opposed this 
 wise design, and that ojoposition (who would imagine it ?) came 
 from England, at that time the all-powerful and imperious ally of 
 the young sovereign. "We have already seen, at the time of the 
 fall of the Jesuits in Portug;^al and Rome, the strange intervention 
 of the Protestant powers in purely Catholic affairs.* In this case 
 England became the apologist for mendicant monks. Had Austria 
 turned her attention to the resources of her national industrj^, 
 she would eventually have dispensed with British subsidies, and 
 this was at all hazards to be prevented. 
 
 This position of affairs, favourable to the Holy See, might 
 have long continued, and the pope might have been satisfied with 
 a peaceful statu quo, guaranteed by the Protestants. Clement 
 XIII., nevertheless, gave the signal for an imprudent contest : 
 instead of flattering tlie servile disposition of the princely abbes 
 and crowned prelates, he first attacked an ecclesiastical elector, 
 
 * The foliowiug is an example of this strange and characteristic alliance : 
 — At the electoral diet of Joseph, as King of the Romans, a suit between the 
 Cardinal-bishop of Spires and the Count Styrum, his coadjutor and afterwards 
 his successor, divided Germany. The Elector of Mayence undertook to decide 
 the question in concui reuce with the Court of Rome, which desired to transfer 
 the affair to its tribunal, and to claim the metropolitan jurisdiction. The 
 nuncios, in order to paralyze the measures of this prince, endeavoured to 
 gain the Protestant Elector's to their views, and they succeeded. The Electors 
 of Brandenburg and Hm, over saw readily, that since there must be a head 
 of the Catholic Church in (Germany, it was better that he should reside on 
 the banks of the Tiber thau on the Rhine ; and they voted conformably to 
 the wishes of the Court of Rome. 
 
 I 2 
 
no THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vi. 
 
 the Archbishop of Mayence. After imposing some unusual 
 taxes upon this sovereign, he ordered his nuncio to interfere in an 
 unwarrantable manner with the jurisdiction of the archbishopric of 
 Cologne, arbitrarily opposing the secularization of some monas- 
 teries which that Elector wished to erect into noble chapters in 
 the archbishopric of Munster. In short, by arbitrary nomina- 
 tions, by an entire disregard of ancient usages, and, above all, 
 by an illegitimate extension of the nuncial prerogatives, Clement 
 XIII. confounded the temporal with the spiritual power, assailed 
 the Grermanic constitution, and drew upon himself the hostility 
 of the ecclesiastical Electors, as Germans, as prelates, and as 
 sovereigns. 
 
 The Archbishop of Mayence, putting himself at the head of 
 these disaffected princes, retaliated by an open attack upon the 
 Jesuits, suppressing two or three convents and several shrines. 
 He drew up a long and detailed memorial, in which he accused 
 the pope of having violated the Concordat of Aschaffenburg, 
 concluded in the year 1448 between the Emperor Frederick 
 III. and Pope Nicholas V. ; of having usurped the collation of 
 benefices which conferred political rights ; and, finally, of having 
 ventured to create princes of the empire. A circumstantial and 
 .acrimonious recapitulation accompanied this memorial. The 
 Elector presented this document to the Emperor Joseph II., who 
 received it with a feeling of inward pleasure, although with ap- 
 parent coldness. The germ of all that he subsequently attempted 
 is contained in this memorial of the Elector ; and, as his own 
 enterprises served as a model to the constituent assembly of 
 France, the source of the great social reformation in that country 
 may possibly be traced to Germany. 
 
 The emperor was impatient to assail the Holy See. We have 
 seen that, by the agency of Count de Firmian, governor of 
 Lombardy, lie interdicted the use of the bull i?i Ccena Domini^ 
 and favoured liberty of conscience at Lemberg, the capital of his 
 newly conquered territory of Gallicia. His mother had restrained 
 him from any active measures ; tiiey were at that time agreed, 
 although their motives were different. Maria Theresa wished to 
 have all her children nobly provided for ; whilst Joseph, com- 
 paratively indifferent to his family, was meditating that ascend- 
 ancy in Germany which was the dream of his life. In order 
 
CHAP. VI.] JOSEPH'S ENMITY TO FRANXE. 117 
 
 to attain this two-fold object, they compelled Maximilian, the 
 youngest of the archdukes, to take orders. This voluptuous 
 prince felt an honest repugnance to enter on a career so little in 
 conformity with his inclinations, but his resistance was soon 
 ended ; Maximilian perceived that no otiier resource was open 
 to him, and that he could only obtain opulence and liberty by 
 acquiescing in this decision. It was the injunction of a brother, 
 who would soon be his sovereign, and perhaps of his mother 
 also, and Maximilian yielded. Thenceforth the court of Vienna 
 thought only of concentrating in its own hands all the great 
 benefices of Germany. 
 
 Maximilian was appointed coadjutor of the Archbishop of 
 Cologne ; but the reversion of that electorate was deemed insuf- 
 ficient, and the court of Austria sought to procure for him other 
 large bishoprics, amongst which was that of Munster. The King 
 of Prussia, the protector of the independence of the Germanic 
 princes, attempted to frustrate this project, and threatened the 
 chapters, but the influence of the court of Vienna induced the 
 pope to yield. 
 
 The cabinets of Madrid and Versailles complained in strong 
 terms of this measure. The latter, although circumspect in its 
 conduct towards Austria, was less under the control of Marie- 
 Antoinette than has been imagined, and authentic diplomatic 
 documents prove that in more than one instance the opposition 
 of the Vergennes ministry to Austria was resolute and per- 
 severing. Maria Tiieresa met this with tender protestations, and 
 Joseph nourished in his heart a bitter enmity to France. 
 
 This was the extent of the complaints which the court of 
 Rome could bring' a^-ainst the Austrian sovereig^ns, and thev 
 were certainly very slight. Although readily disposed to com- 
 plain, the pope had reason to congratulate himself: as long as 
 Maria Theresa lived, tiie relations of Rome with the house of 
 Austria were friendly and peaceful ; whilst the former was ex- 
 posed to the attacks of all the Catholic sovereigns, and able to 
 oppose to them merely the equivocal friendship, tlie humiliating 
 protection of princes who did not recognize the authority of 
 the Holy See, the pope found consolation only in the piety of the 
 empress and the hereditary devotion of Austria. Rome had 
 no longer any hopes but in Vienna. 
 
118 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vi. 
 
 It was natural to expect that the news of the death of Maria 
 Theresa would cause great uneasmess at Rome. She had been 
 the protectress of the Holy See, and had never yielded to the 
 modern philosophy ; nevertheless, even during- her reign, clear- 
 sighted observers had discerned the symptoms of a religious 
 revolution. Pius VI., who was an optimist by nature, saw 
 nothing, and wished to see nothing : the recognition of the Holy 
 See is limited to circumstances which have already taken place. 
 
 At all events, prudence required that the conduct of the 
 Papal Court, with regard to the election of a successor to the 
 empress, should be marked with discretion and management : 
 above all, it was requisite to avoid giving any offensive pretext 
 to a prince whose turbulence was well known, and whose lean- 
 ing to the philosophical party was suspected. If Joseph should 
 venture to attack the prerogatives of the Holy See, it was politic 
 to leave the responsibility of his measures to himself; and perhaps 
 a just regard for the religious feeling of his subjects would induce 
 him to defer, or at least to mitigate, his hostility. Whether this 
 reasoning was strictly accurate or no, it was at all events the 
 safest for the pope to act upon ; and his first measure should 
 have been to conciliate the Austrian monarchy, by a just expres- 
 sion of respect for tlie memory of Maria Theresa. But the pon- 
 tiff wholly disregarded so reasonable and natural a line of policy ; 
 and, with an inconceivable forgetfulness of all the dictates of 
 ordinary prudence, he insulted the memory of Maria Theresa 
 and excited the anger of Joseph II. 
 
 On the death of Catholic sovereigns of the highest rank, the 
 pope always assembles the cardinals in consistory, communicates 
 to them the loss which the Church has sustained, and performs 
 a funeral service in the chapel of the Vatican ; this is an observ- 
 ance consecrated by immemorial usage. Pius VI. refused these 
 last honours to the Empress of Germany, the Queen of Hungary 
 and of Bohemia. His friends represented to him forcibly the 
 inexpediency and danger of such an injurious proceeding : but 
 Pius VI. argued that such marks of distinction had never been 
 conferred on the consorts of the sovereigns. The cardinals, and 
 especially Bernis, argued that Maria Theresa was not simply the 
 consort of a sovereign, but a great queen in her own right, 
 independently of any alliance ; nevertheless Pius VI. persisted 
 
CHAP. VI.] TOLERATION PROCLAIMED BY JOSEPH II. 119 
 
 obstinately in his resolution, which he carried so far as to pro- 
 hibit his domestic prelates from wearing mourning-. 
 
 Joseph could scarcely have anticipated that the pope would 
 thus second his own projects ; but as it suited tlie emperor's views 
 to exhibit towards the Court of Rome disdain rather than indijr- 
 nation, he was satisfied Avith adding these words at the close of 
 the despatch of his minister, the Cardinal Herzan, " It matters 
 little to me whether the Bishop of Eome is polite or rude."* 
 
 This expression was not sincere ; it was of great importance 
 to him that the pope should be wanting in address, and he hesi- 
 tated not to avail himself of the papal deficiency. 
 
 If Braschi had taken his cue from Joseph, he could not 
 have served him more agreeably. So weak a motive could 
 doubtless neither have originated nor decided the projects of 
 reform which had entered the emperor's head : matured by con- 
 straint, they would naturally burst forth spontaneously, and no 
 outward cause had increased the violence of such a desire. But 
 Austria is Catholic, and attached to the ancient symbol of the 
 faith ; this religion, rooted in the habits and character of the 
 country, could only be counterbalanced by the national love for 
 the Austrian dynasty ; and hitherto these two sentiments had co- 
 existed and strengthened one another. Austria saw in her princes 
 an example of reverence and submission to the Holy See. It 
 was therefore the height of imprudence and bad policy in any 
 pope to disturb the connection which existed between these 
 two national sentiments : the disrespect shown to the memory of 
 Maria Theresa was felt deeply by the people of Austria, and this 
 circumstance afiTorded the best pretext to Joseph for testifying his 
 displeasure toward the Court of Rome. An edict of general 
 toleration proclaimed the plans of Joseph 11. to the empire and 
 the Court of Rome : it was conceived in the followinor terms : — 
 
 " Convinced of the pernicious effects of all violence done to 
 the rights of conscience, and of the essential advantages of a 
 true Christian toleration, his apostolical, imperial, and royal 
 Majesty decrees, that the private exercise of their religion shall 
 be permitted to all his Protestant subjects of the Helvetic Con- 
 fession and the Confession of Augsburg, as well as to all his 
 ^ * Breteuil to Vergennes, February 18, 1781. 
 
120 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vi. 
 
 subjects of the Greek religion, in all parts of the Austrian mo- 
 narchy where they are found in sufficient numbers. 
 
 " Those who do not profess the Catholic religion shall not be 
 obliged to take oaths containing any formula contrary to the 
 principles of their sect, nor to assist in the processions and cere- 
 monies of the established religion. 
 
 " In conferring offices the sovereign will not be influenced by 
 any regard to the difference of religious opinions, but solely to 
 the capacity and fitness of the parties. 
 
 " Mixed marriages will be permitted. 
 
 " No person is to be punishable on religious grounds, unless 
 he has violated the civil law." 
 
 Certain restrictions and explanations were introduced into the 
 body of this edict, but these were the great and fundamental 
 principles upon which it Mas framed. 
 
 Another law followed the first, which caused no less surprise. 
 The emperor ordered that the applications for marriage dis- 
 pensations and other canonical matters should no longer be 
 addressed to the pope, but in each diocese to the bishop, who 
 was himself to cease to have any right of appeal to Rome. The 
 following were among the provisions of this second edict : — 
 
 It declared the bulls or briefs of the pope to be of no effect 
 without the imperial sanction. 
 
 It prohibited novices or persons in religious orders from 
 giving donations to their convent exceeding 1200 florins. 
 
 Convents placed under the discipline of the diocesan bishops 
 were declared withdrawn from the authority of the heads of their 
 order, for the most part foreign. 
 
 The bulls Unigenitiis and In Ccena Domini were to be torn 
 from the church books. 
 
 The ordinations of priests were postponed. 
 
 The edict also decreed — 
 
 The suppression of monasteries, and principally those of the 
 Carthusians ; — the monastery of Pavia, a marvel of riches and 
 architecture, included. 
 
 The suppression of the multiplicity of benefices. 
 
 The suppression of several chapters, and the application of 
 their revenues to the public treasury. 
 
CHAP. VI.] ALARM AT TOLERATION. 121 
 
 The suppression of the theological schools established in the 
 monasteries. 
 
 We must stop here : to extract all the ordinances which 
 Joseph II. accumulated in the space of a year would be to defy, 
 as he did, both time and patience, but we have given the 
 principal ones. Scarcely had they appeared, when violent re- 
 monstrances were raised on all sides, which at the present day 
 it is difficult to comprehend. Accustomed as we are to the 
 natural consequences of the principles established by Joseph II., 
 we can discover in them nothing to cause any surprise. But 
 the point of view has changed : such principles were at that 
 period formidable novelties, for although sovereigns had leagued 
 with the philosophy of the age, they had not taken up arms in 
 its defence. This was a precedent and an example which ac- 
 quired increased weight, and was the more formidable, as it 
 emanated from the throne of the Germanic emperors. We can 
 scarcely enter into the excitement and astonislmient which these 
 measures raised ; at the period of their occurrence it was all 
 new, — at the present day we are accustomed to it all. We have 
 witnessed revolutions until thev almost cease to affect us, 
 whereas that period was marked by tranquillity and repose ; in 
 fact life itself was only felt in actual conflict, but that conflict is 
 now irrevocably ended. 
 
 The character of Joseph II. can only be correctly appreciated 
 by divesting it of the traditionary prejudices of the past and of 
 present impres.sions. The first characteristic of his conduct, we 
 should say, was courage. The principle upon which his reforms 
 in religious matters were based was equitable, regular, and irre- 
 proachable. Occupying the first rank among the sovereigns of 
 Europe, Joseph was not daunted by political ideas which, founded 
 as they are upon the natural rights of man, are at the present day 
 recognised as such. He looked to the future, and thought 
 to anticipate its progress ; seeking a rapid and exclusive en- 
 joyment of its promises, and forcing the development of his 
 projects. In one single year — the year which followed his ac- 
 cession — he expended the glory of several reigns, and the success 
 of his life was exhausted. But Joseph had another weakness, — - 
 he confounded great matters and small, just and unjust. He 
 
122 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. yi. 
 
 imagined that he was legalizing the rights of conscience, whilst, 
 from misunderstanding them, he carried his reform into the 
 minutest details of an arbitraiy discipline. In the same docu- 
 ment we find, side by side, regulations respecting the free exer- 
 cise of religious worship, and minute directions for processions 
 and funeral rites. At one time, as a legislator, he stooped to 
 strip the images of the Madonna, ornamented, according to the 
 custom of the south, with glittering apparel and artificial flowers ; 
 at another time he would regulate the number of wax-lights to 
 be used. Frederick, edified by his piety, called him " monffere 
 le sacristain.'^ Sometimes, too, his want of judgment frustrated 
 his good intentions ; the care which he bestowed on the re- 
 pression of mendicity, by useful regulations, claims our respect ; 
 but we are disgusted at his causing an association to be publicly 
 announced in the Catholic churches of the empire under the 
 foolish title of the Guild of Brotherly Love. Inconsistency, 
 moreover, diminished the value of Joseph's efforts, and gave 
 them the appearance of capriciousness and prejudice. The 
 emperor had suppressed the plurality of benefices, and deprived 
 Cardinal Migazzi of the bishopric of TVatzen because its tenure 
 v\'as incompatible with that of Vienna ; but, whilst he took this 
 wise step, he never thought of relinquishing any of the ecclesi- 
 astical revenues accumulated in the hands of his brother Maxi- 
 milian ; and, when the archbishop of Vienna indirectly alluded 
 to this inconsistency, the emperor was obliged to reply by a 
 sophism unworthy of his straightforward character, pretending 
 that, in using the words " Viros illusfres," with regard to the 
 plurality of benefices, the Council of Trent had made an excep- 
 tion in favour of the children of sovereiorns. 
 
 Such were the ecclesiastical reforms which Joseph II. eflfected. 
 "We have brought them thus together, because they preceded all 
 the innovations which that sovereign introduced, and which, in 
 some cases to his shame and in others to his honour, left no 
 portion of his maternal heritage intact. 
 
 The European governments watched tliese measures atten- 
 tively, not from any interest in a cause whicii they had ceased to 
 defend, and still less from any foresight of the future results 
 which must follow such a disregard of things until then held 
 
CHAP. VI.] KAUNITZ AXD THE NUNCIO GARAMPI. 123 
 
 sacred, but from a present fear of that bold ambition which 
 all these innovations indicated. They regarded political pro- 
 babilities more than the personal character of Joseph II., 
 and imagined that they discerned in this ardour for reform 
 a means rather than an end. ^Nevertheless none of the allies 
 of Austria interposed its mediation between the pope and the 
 emperor. Breteuil, the French ambassador at Vienna, and 
 Bernis, charge d'affaires of the king at Eome, had anticipated 
 the instructions of their court, and adopted a conciliatory course, 
 — the former at the solicitation of the nuncio, and the latter actu- 
 ated by an esprit de corps ; but they soon received precise in- 
 structions from France, directing them to observe the strictest 
 neutrality. Yergennes, although he blamed the forms which 
 Joseph adopted, saw nothing reprehensible in the spirit of his 
 measures ; he was moreover of opinion, and with reason, that 
 remonstrances from a foreign court, even of an amicable nature, 
 would have the effect of stimulating instead of calming the em- 
 peror's ardour; and he feared above all, that if France took part 
 in affairs of this nature, she would excite theological conten- 
 tions from which she was then happily freed, and which had for 
 so Ions' a time created divisions in the kino-dom. All these con- 
 siderations united made Louis XVI. resolve to remain a passive 
 spectator. 
 
 As soon as Joseph had taken the first steps in this new career, 
 the nuncio in dismay and alarm had appealed to the piety 
 and justice of the Prince de Kaunitz ; but the minister was 
 little distinguished by the first of these virtues, and the second 
 was in his mind subordinate to calculations of policy. He 
 received the nuncio with coldness, and even severity ; so far 
 from quieting his fears, he increased them by intimating that the 
 emperor would not consult any person with regard to the exercise 
 of his authority ; and, when the nuncio reminded him of the ties 
 which had constantly connected the courts of Vienna and Kome, 
 — manifested, as he said, by so many acts of spiritual favour, 
 and especially by the admission of several subjects of the monarcliy 
 into the sacred college — Kaunitz, insensible to this argument, 
 intimated that it was desirable there should no longer be any 
 Austrian cardinal. 
 
124 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vi. 
 
 The nuncio requested an audience of the emperor, but the 
 Prince de Kaunitz prevented this- the nuncio redoubled liis 
 complaints and entreaties, which he urged in writing, and 
 Kaunitz replied in a note, the energetic tone of which will pre- 
 serve it from oblivion. " The emperor," he writes, " has not 
 been a little surprised to find in the note of Monsignore 
 Garampi, nuncio of the pope, blame cast upon his recent ordi- 
 nances. His imperial Majesty has read in that note, expressed 
 in explicit terms, that no prince remaining in the Roman 
 Catholic communion had ever thought of extending the exer- 
 cise of his authority so far. His Eminence the Nuncio, with- 
 out doubt involuntarily, leaves the odious consequence to be in- 
 ferred from these expressions, that a prince, by extending his 
 power so far, ceases to be a Catholic ; he even appears to intimate 
 the possibility of circumstances sufficient to release subjects from 
 their oath of allegiance. The emperor is willing to attribute 
 such expressions only to the too ardent zeal of his Eminence the 
 Nuncio, and believes them uttered without the knowledge of the 
 Holy Father. He would even have remained silent, had it not 
 come to his knowledge that his Eminence the Nuncio had com- 
 municated his note to bishops of the hereditary states, and 
 even to foreigners. In consequence, his Majesty orders the 
 chancellor to reply to Monsignore Garampi in the following 
 terms : — 
 
 " That the abolition of notorious abuses serves the interests of 
 religion ; 
 
 '"' That if such abuses had been inherent in religion, it would 
 entirely have lost its venerable character, and that, so far from 
 being received with the pious eagerness which the moderation of 
 its principles and the excellence of its morality merit, the inte- 
 rests of mankind would not have permitted its adoption ; 
 
 " That the abolition of any institutions whatever which do not 
 relate exclusively to the spiritual care of souls, belongs to the tem- 
 poral sovereign. In this number is the external discipline of the 
 church, and, above all, that of the regular clergj^, — an institution 
 of human invention, since it is proved that monasteries were 
 unknown in the first ages of the church, and owe their creation 
 to the munificence of princes. 
 
CHAP. VI.] CRITICAL SITUATION OF PIUS VI. 125 
 
 " 111 conformity with these fixed principles, his Imperial Ma- 
 jesty has been not only authorised, but obliged by a sense of 
 duty, to assume the direction of all that does not specially con- 
 cern dofrma and matters of conscience. 
 
 " No alteration in religion is therefore contemplated. The 
 apprehensions which his Eminence the Nuncio appears to 
 entertain for the faith exist only in his own too sensitive imagi- 
 liation. 
 
 " The present instrument is executed by the court and state 
 chancellor, in compliance with the strict commands of his 
 Imperial Majesty, in order to enable Monsignore Garampi to 
 conform his future conduct to its intentions, and to give an 
 assurance of the personal regard of his Majesty for his Eminence 
 the Nuncio. 
 
 " It remains only for the chancellor of state to repeat to his 
 Eminence, &c. &c. 
 
 " Vienna, December 9th, 1781."* 
 
 The repeated advances of the envoy of Pius VI. sufficiently 
 manifest the uneasiness of the court of Rome. Assailed as the 
 Holy See had been through a religious order which it had reared 
 for its own defence, and to which it was strongly attached, that 
 power had already undergone a severe trial ; but what was this 
 local grief and mortification in comparison with the blow with 
 which it was now threatened ? In addition to the loss of her 
 firmest support, the friendship of the house of Austria, Kome 
 now saw herself even assailed by that power, not merely in cer- 
 tain prerogatives or on points of etiquette, but in her very con- 
 stitution. It was no longer a question regarding particular cere- 
 monies or outward observances ; but the power thus assumed 
 by Austria annulled the right of the priesthood to enter into the 
 privacy of domestic life, to preside over all occurrences, and to 
 follow and control the actions of a man from the cradle to the 
 grave : at his birth, in his education, marriage, testamentary' be- 
 quests, death, and burial, Rome was present and exercised her 
 authority : priests were the legal witnesses of the civil afiairs of 
 citizens. But Rome was now not only deprived of these civil 
 
 * Correspondence of Vienna, December 12, 1781. 
 
126 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vi. 
 
 offices, but almost excluded from the sanctuary itself. Monas- 
 teries, convents, fortresses of Catholicism, scattered over the land 
 for the defence of a common country, would henceforth constitute 
 so many republics and colonies independent of Rome. Nor was 
 this all : the blow directed against the exercise of her authority 
 reached also the source of her wealth ; she lost the revenues 
 derived from America, her ecclesiastical dues, the income from 
 briefs of eligibility, dispensations, anathemas, and reconciliations. 
 In short, Rome was despoiled of all : even the liturgy, which 
 in spirit as well as form was of right under her authority, was no 
 longer screened from profane censure ; the chants, prayers, in- 
 vocations, and direction of tlie ceremonies were now subjected to 
 secular authority. No event, since the Reformation, had ever 
 assailed the Church so grievously ; indeed the Reformation itself, 
 although it led to deeper and more permanent results, was not 
 calculated to bring it into such contempt. 
 
 At the former period, the blow had been dealt in the midst 
 of a war, and the enemies of Rome boasted of the title ; attack 
 and defence were alike avowed and public. But in the pre- 
 sent instance, instead of professing any outward hostility, the 
 Catholic potentate who assailed the church of Rome main- 
 tained ever}^ appearance of respect : so far from renouncing 
 the name of Roman Catholic, like the reformers, Joseph II. 
 claimed it jealously ; he was no declared enemy of the church. 
 The pope had need of prudence and continual circumspec- 
 tion in dealing with such an adversary ; although despairing 
 at heart, it was necessar}'^ to affect serenity, as the least 
 symptom of impatience would expose him to the reproach of 
 having provoked schism. This was a painful state of dissi- 
 mulation, but it was the more indispensable as the Roman 
 people still preserve an hereditary respect for the name of 
 emperor. Such was the situation of Pius VI. ; never was 
 there one more surrounded by difficulties, yet his courage rose 
 superior to them all. 
 
 The pope entered upon the unequal contest, confiding entirely 
 in his powers of persuasion, for which he often returned thanks 
 to God. He determined to subdue Joseph 11. by his eloquence, 
 and the only apparent means of accomplishing this was to esta- 
 
CHAP. VI.] PROJECTED VISIT OF THE POPE. 127 
 
 blish a correspondence with the emperor. He eagerly seized 
 the first opportunity of exercising, as he thought, a sure ascen- 
 dancy. The emperor wrote to him, requesting a grace, autho- 
 rizing him to appoint to all the bishoprics and benefices in Lora- 
 bardy. Pius VI. withheld his consent, forgetting how easily 
 Joseph II. might dispense with it : he attributed that monarch's 
 reforms to caprice, regarding them as perhaps the result of so 
 trivial an accident as the funeral of Maria Theresa ; and he 
 entertained the hope of convincing a man whose head was of 
 iron, and who in his heart was an enemy to the priesthood. 
 Pius VI. wrote to the emperor, but he received a harsh reply ; 
 Joseph's inflexibility was all the greater, since the bluntness 
 of his manner gratified his feelings and promoted his object at 
 the same time. He sent word to his Holiness, that, in case of his 
 refusal, he should proceed, in virtue of his own rights, to the 
 collation of the ecclesiastical benefices in the Milanese territorj^ 
 The attempt at persuasion by means of this correspondence having 
 failed, Pius VI. changed his plan of proceeding, and affected an 
 imperturbable phlegm and the greatest confidence in Joseph II. 
 No one could imag^ine what had given rise to such a sentiment, 
 and Bern is especially comprehended neither the cause of this 
 tranquillity or this hope. The French cardinal, who was ad- 
 mitted to the intimacy of the pope, interrogated him in every 
 possible way, but he was met with only perfect silence or enig- 
 matical replies. Bernis could not understand a reserve which 
 w^ounded his vanity ; his curiosity and uneasiness were also stimu- 
 lated by the half-confidential statements of several trusty prelates. 
 " You will soon hear a great piece of news," said the Cardinal 
 Conti to him one day ; and whilst Bernis was striving to con- 
 jecture the nature of this news, he was informed through his 
 private letters that a visit from Pius VI. was expected at Vienna. 
 Astonished at such an extraordinary rumour, and offended at 
 receiving the information through an indirect channel, Bernis 
 went at once to the pope, who did not conceal his project. The 
 holy father admitted that, after having exhausted all argument 
 and entreaty with the emperor, he had proposed to him a con- 
 ference in the capital of the empire. 
 
 Joseph accepted this proposal, wliich highly flattered his 
 
128 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vi. 
 
 pride ; nevertheless he concealed his pleasure, affected indiffer- 
 ence, and represented to the pope that, if by this journey he 
 hoped to shake his resolutions, his Holiness might spare himself 
 the trouble ; but adding, that his respectful and devoted son would 
 be happy to receive such a singular favour^ — so the emperor 
 ejipressed it in an autograph letter. Thenceforth the sovereign 
 and his minister each acted his part : Joseph displayed attention 
 and respect towards the pope, and left the less gracious office of 
 affecting disdain and severity to the Prince de Kaunitz, who, 
 when consulted by the nuncio, only enlarged upon the useless- 
 ness of this journey to Vienna. 
 
 The resolution of Pius VI. faltered for an instant ; but the 
 peror, when informed of his hesitation, laughed at it, and de- 
 clared in public that, after having announced his visit, the pope 
 would only bring ridicule upon himself if he refused to accom- 
 plish it. This taunt decided Pius VI. In vain did Bernis, for- 
 getting the neutrality enjoined on him by his court, attempt to 
 dissuade the pope from a step upon which he had not been con- 
 sulted : in vain did his reason, rendered eloquent by his offended 
 pride, represent to his Holiness every argument which might 
 deter him from his project. Bernis was not listened to, and the 
 resolution of Pius VI. remained immovable. 
 
 From this moment the French cardinal put himself at the head 
 of the party which opposed the journey to Vienna, — a party 
 which was numerous, because this removal of the head of the 
 church would disconcert the routine of affairs at Rome. A 
 kind of petty amicable struggle now arose between the pope 
 and the cardinal, the former proud of having kept his secret, 
 and the latter piqued at not having been intrusted with it. 
 Remonstrances even were used to dissuade Pius VI., but nothing 
 could move him. 
 
 The journey to Vienna was calculated to please him in several 
 ways. To display in a foreign country that charm of manner 
 and deportment, the effect of which began to wear out in 
 Rome — to overcome the emperor in his own capital — to go 
 direct into the heart and centre of that rebellious power, and 
 bring back to the sheepfold the prodigal son, the descendant of 
 the Caesars — to arouse the intimidated zeal of the German 
 
CHAP. Yi.] PIUS VI. AT VIENNA. 129 
 
 prelates on his journey, and possibly even to plead the cause of 
 the Jesuits; — all these motives might naturally influence the 
 decision of Pius. At length he set out : the news of this 
 journey excited at first a general surprise throughout Europe, 
 and especially in France ; but this feeling soon gave place to 
 one of indifference. 
 
 " At another period, perhaps," wrote Yergennes to Bernis, 
 " seeing the emperor engaging in a revolution which was likely to 
 affect injuriously his whole reign, it might have been good policy 
 to urge the pope to oppose all possible resistance to the enter- 
 prises of that prince : such a course might have been recom- 
 mended by the twofold advantage of obtaining a ruling influence 
 at Rome, and of enlisting the friendship of all the discontented 
 party in Germany. At the present day we carefully remove all 
 ideas likely to trouble the peace of the church and state, and 
 feed the passions, which are rendered more dangerous by the 
 weakening of the barriers capable of restraining them. We 
 should find nearly as much diflficulty in attempting to prevent 
 this kind of schism which is in preparation. The king thinks 
 he does enough for the repose of the world by maintaining by 
 his example the ancient institutions and the respect due to reli- 
 gion. The support which his Majesty is willing to extend to 
 religion at the present crisis would perhaps add to the evils with 
 which it is threatened. I am therefore persuaded, that when- 
 ever your Excellence converses with his Holiness respecting 
 these fresh evils w^hich afflict religion, you will be careful to do 
 so in your character of a prince of the church, and not as the 
 representative of his Majesty, who has hitherto made a point of 
 not interfering in what passes between the Emperor and the Holy 
 See."* 
 
 The journey of Pius VI. was a complete triumph. An envoy 
 of the King of Spain met him on the road to oflfer the salu- 
 tations of that monarch, and the towns which he honoured 
 with his presence received him with idolatry. Thus, in the 
 midst of continued rejoicings and triumph, and (if we may use 
 the expression) borne in the arms of princes, prelates, and 
 
 * Bernis paid little heed to this advice, and wrote a strange letter to the 
 Pope on his return from Rome. 
 
 K 
 
130 
 
 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vi. 
 
 people, the successor of the apostles reached the end of his holy 
 
 pilgrimage. 
 
 At Vienna this pious enthusiasm was carried to the highest 
 pitch ; the pope indeed could little have anticipated such a cordial 
 welcome. The whole city awaited his arrival prostrate ; and all 
 the women of Vienna, from the princess to the menial, lined the 
 thoroughfares along which he passed. From the first moment 
 that the intention of the pope was made public, no other affair was 
 thought of; conversation turned only upon this single subject, 
 which was commented on in a thousand various ways :— " The 
 pope is coming ! The pope is coming !" Immediately the pre- 
 parations were commenced, and there was a general desire to 
 welcome his Holiness with the most honourable reception. These 
 preparations in his capital attracted the emperor's notice, and 
 he felt that his own interest required him to receive the pope 
 with every mark of filial veneration. Pius VI. wished to alight 
 at the palace of the nuncio, but Joseph insisted that he should 
 occupy Maria Theresa's own apartment in the imperial palace— 
 an honourable mark of attention, which the emperor urged 
 solely from the necessity of residing in the same abode, in order 
 to have more frequent intercourse with the pope, and to con- 
 ceal from the curiosity of others the hours and number of their 
 secret interviews. 
 
 Joseph II. and his brother the Archduke Maximilian went to 
 meet the pope as far as Neustadt, some leagues distant from 
 Vienna. At the approach of his Holiness they alighted from 
 their carriage, and Pius VI. immediately followed their example ; 
 he embraced the emperor, and the two sovereigns entered 
 Vienna in the imperial carriage, in the midst of an immense 
 assemblage of the populace, and the ringing of bells, which 
 Joseph called the artillery of the priests. The poet was alone 
 wanting in these solemnities : at the instant when Pius VI. en- 
 tered Vienna, Metastasio breathed his last ! 
 
 So flattering a reception was not calculated to make the pope 
 repent of his resolution, and he took a malicious pleasure in 
 communicating instantly to Bernis the news of his success. 
 This wa^ indeed complete. Had the pontiff limited his views 
 to external effect, he had no reason to regret the course he had 
 
CHAP. VI.] HIS RECEPTION. 131 
 
 adopted ; never was a more august presence received with more 
 sincere devotion and respect. The higher classes of society ad- 
 mired the nobleness of his deportment ; the ladies of rank 
 in Vienna, and the Baron de Breteuil, ambassador of France, 
 thought his manners perfect and his demeanour grand ; in 
 short, all that constitutes a pope of high rank and captivating 
 deportment seemed to be concentrated in Pius YI. The 
 people were transported with delight at his appearance ; their 
 admiration was neither aristocratical, as in the high circles 
 of Vienna, nor artistic, as in the Campo-Vaccino at Rome. 
 The good Viennese troubled themselves little to investigate 
 the lineaments of the pope ; but, filled with a lively spirit 
 of faith and a religious enthusiasm, their curiosity to see 
 the Holy Father seemed insatiable, and they assembled in 
 crowds in the streets, churches, and squares — in short wherever 
 Pius VI. passed or was to be seen. Notwithstanding all the 
 efforts of the police, accidents were of daily occurrence, caused 
 by the immense pressure of the populace upon a single spot ; but 
 the public zeal did not diminish. Twenty or thirty tliousand 
 people followed the pope's carriage, or thronged the space under 
 the windows of his palace, entreating his benediction with loud 
 cries. The banks of the Danube were lined with multitudes, 
 embarking with the pious intention of seeing the Holy Father. 
 In short the concourse of people from the most distant provinces 
 was so great in the capital that a famine w^as daily appre- 
 hended.* 
 
 This excess of joy and enthusiasm displeased Joseph, — perhaps 
 it even caused him some fear.f He felt that he had not to deal 
 with a philosophical people ; and, whilst pursuing his own ob- 
 jects, he deemed it necessary to give convincing proofs of his 
 attachment to Catholicism. An obstinate affection of his eyes 
 had troubled him for a long time : secret insinuations attributed 
 this to his want of faith, and some even ventured to affirm that, 
 unless he came to a reconciliation with the pope, he would be 
 
 * Contemporaneous journals : Les Martyrs de la For, by the Abbe 
 Guillon, vol. 3 ; Oraison fiimbrc de Pie VI., by Monsignore Brancadoro, 
 with notes by the Abbe' Dauribeau, Venice, 1799. 
 
 t Breteuil to Vergennes. 
 
 K 2 
 
132 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vi. 
 
 struck with blindness by Heaven. Alarmed by these rumours, 
 the emperor sent an ex-voto offering of golden eyes to the con- 
 vent of Maria-Zell, and desired the nuns to offer up prayers for 
 the preservation of his sight. But this was not all : he deemed 
 it desirable to receive the communion from the hands of the 
 pope himself, and waited upon him at the Lord's Supper. In 
 an address which Pius YI. delivered in consistorj^, he forgot to 
 allude to the piety of the emperor, — an omission which was very 
 simple and natural ; but Joseph required its reparation, and re- 
 quested that an expression favourable to this problematical piety 
 should be inserted in the printed address. 
 
 A mixture of good and bad understanding existed between 
 Joseph and Pius VI., — a situation which was not only ridi- 
 culous, but false and difficult to maintain. The emperor treated 
 the pope with every appearance of respect and veneration, 
 whilst the holy father professed a truly paternal friendship for 
 his majesty. Nevertheless, in the midst of these touching pro- 
 testations, Pius VI. gave vent to the most bitter complaints, 
 confessing that he had emptied the cup to the dregs ; and indeed 
 the strange and inconsistent conduct of Joseph gave sufficient 
 cause for these complaints. At the very instant when, with a 
 bootless zeal, he was fulfilling the functions of pontifical as- 
 sistant in the various ceremonies, — in the midst of all the marks 
 of reverence and respect which he lavished upon the holy Father, 
 — he counteracted the effect of all this show of honour bv an 
 ironical treatment. As the pope passed through the streets of 
 Vienna, his eye was arrested by edicts opposing his authority 
 paraded on the walls ; an express prohibition was intimated to 
 some monks to approach his Holiness or to request any spiri- 
 tual favours. The work of Febronius, and the pamplilet en- 
 titled Quid est Papa ? met with public encouragement. One 
 trait will suffice to characterize the policy of Joseph in this in- 
 stance. The bishop of GrStz in Styria, a man of exemplary 
 character but limited intellect, had emerge^ from obscurity and 
 distinguished himself by a warm opposition to the imperial 
 ordinances. Joseph, irritated at this conduct, chose the day 
 when the pope proceeded to Gratz, to announce to some nuns 
 of that town that they were released from their vows, and 
 
CHAP. VI.] FREDERICK AND JOSEPH CONTRASTED. 133 
 
 to send the prelate to the Court. With the same object, he 
 delayed the reprimand of the bishop until the arrival of the 
 pope at Vienna. He then summoned the bishop, and treated 
 him in a severe and humiliating- manner. The intimidated pre- 
 late yielded, and the emperor immediately remanded him to his 
 see, without permitting him to kiss the pope's foot. 
 
 As we have before said, the reforms which Joseph introduced 
 were unexceptional and laudable in themselves : his views were 
 not without justice, but from want of genius he was unable to 
 advance to his ends by a straight and broad road, following in- 
 stead crooked paths, in which he generally lost himself. Through- 
 out this affair of the pontifical visit, his conduct was mean, 
 tricky, and even cruel : he should not have allowed the pope 
 to come to Vienna, but, having once given this permission, 
 he ought not to have rendered it less gracious by miserable 
 chicanery and mortifications. The emperor was not called upon 
 by the circumstance of the pope's visit to change his course of 
 action ; and indeed to abandon the principles he had adopted 
 would have been an act of weakness ; but an inflexibility on 
 this point was reconcilable with outward courtesy. In great 
 characters grace is only the repose of strength ; but to pass 
 by turns from ridiculous and pusillanimous mummery to a brutal 
 procedure toward an old man — a pontiif — toward that honest 
 Braschi, who had drained the Pontine Marshes, — was most ig- 
 noble and unworthy of a monarch ; and it is to be lamented 
 that Joseph II. had not a mind comprehensive enough to under- 
 stand, that, without any external aid, the presence of a pope in 
 the metropolis of the Germanic empire was itself sufficient to 
 redeem w^ith interest the ancient affi-onts of the emperors of the 
 middle ages. Frederick judged thus, but Frederick was a truly 
 great man. 
 
 The homage of such a prince might console Pius VI. Fre- 
 derick could not allow such an opportunity to pass without 
 establishing a striking contrast between the emperor and the 
 king. The Baron de Riedesel, minister of Prussia, received 
 instructions to lavish every mark of respect upon the pope, 
 whilst these external manifestations served as a cloak to a secret 
 negotiation, which was crowned with complete success. Frede- 
 
134 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vi. 
 
 rick II. (it will perhaps excite surprise) strongly desired the 
 recognition of his royal title by the sovereign pontiff, and he 
 obtained it at Vienna. 
 
 The Prince de Kaunitz followed a different line of policy. 
 In his office as minister, and as an eminent nobleman, it would 
 be expected that he should have set an example of refined 
 courtesy ; but the intoxication of power too frequently super- 
 sedes the influences of cultivation. It would be difficult to 
 decide which, in reality, is the coarsest-minded, — a rude peasant 
 or a spoiled favourite : the one is ignorant of what man owes to 
 himself, and the other has forgotten it. 
 
 Pius VI., after having vainly awaited a visit from the Chan- 
 cellor, blinded by his authority, had the weakness to anticipate 
 the visit of the minister. On a fixed day the pontiff arrived, 
 and alighting from his carriage, he found the family of the 
 prince dressed with magnificence, and ready to receive him 
 with pious respect ; but he sought in vain his host. The Pope 
 was introduced into his apartments, and passed through several 
 rooms without meeting him. At last Kaunitz appeared at the 
 further end of a picture-gallery, in an unceremonious morning- 
 dress, and received the pope with a smiling countenance and care- 
 less demeanour. Instead of kissing the hand which the holy 
 Father extended to him, he seized and pressed it with an air of 
 familiarity. The pope concealed his displeasure, and expressed 
 his admiration of the gallery of the prince, who merely acted as a 
 cicerone, dragging the pope backwards and forwards, under pre- 
 tence of placing him in the best light to view the pictures. 
 Pius VI. hastened to put an end to this interview, for which the 
 Prince de Kaunitz was far from ofiering any apology ; his 
 insulting coldness even repelled the advances which the sove- 
 reign pontiff too freely offered. 
 
 The most christian patience would find it difficult to excuse 
 such an absence of the simplest marks of respect. Finding 
 it impossible to obtain justice, Pius VI. ouglit to have quitted 
 the court of a prince who permitted and perhaps commanded 
 these insults. But he was intimidated, whilst at the same time 
 he desired to succeed in his object ; and, wh^t is singular enough, 
 he felt a secret attraction towards .loseph. This sympathy 
 
CHAP. VI.] STRANGE COXDL'CT OF JOSEPH. 135 
 
 appeared to be reciprocal : but although it was a geuuine 
 feeliug: in the mind of Pius VI., it must have been less sincerelv 
 shared by the emperor. Be this as it may. Joseph had suc- 
 ceeded in convincing the pope of his good faith ; Pius believed 
 him in his heart to be an excellent Catholic, and did not attri- 
 bute to him any intentional error. The emperor made no con- 
 cession to him, but he avoided at the same time to deprive 
 him of all hope, leaving an opening for the possibility of 
 relinquishing his projects, and at the same time retaining his 
 personal attachment by an ease of conversation and a lavish 
 expression of his confidence. Joseph disclosed to the pope the 
 jealousy of his mind ; he drew a satirical picture of all the 
 sovereigns and courts, and related to him startling anecdotes, 
 sparing neither his brother-in-law. Louis XYI.. nor his sove- 
 reign allies. Pius Yl. imaoined himself admitted to the con- 
 fidence of the emperor, little thinking that this necessity of 
 disclosing: his secret thous:hts was the result of a maladv which 
 had become chronic. From these conversations, which were 
 mere superficial gossip. Pius TL could not gather any solid 
 assurances ; and, deceived by the affected simplicity- of the 
 emperor, he even granted concessions, w^hich he regarded, or 
 feigned to reo-ard. as instances of success. Leaving undeter- 
 mined the questions relating to the benefices of Lombardy. or 
 rather, having lost all hope of retaining the disposal of them, 
 Pius Yl. relinquished to the bishops the right of granting dis- 
 pensations, except in serious criminal cases, with the empty 
 reservation of considering the bishops as legates a latere. The 
 pope still had the consolation of having set li?)iits to toleration ; 
 that is to say. he obtained the consent of the emperor to the 
 decree, that, after any Austrian subject had made a declaration 
 of the religion in which he wished to live, he should be treated 
 as an apostate if he afterwards changed his religious profes- 
 sion : — a strange victory, indeed, to which Joseph must have 
 yielded without difficultv ; for nothing^ is less conformable to the 
 spirit of the Catholic religion, the strength of which lies in pro- 
 selytism. Pius YL only succeeded in one point : he saved the 
 clerg}' from the necessity of a political oath, — a project which 
 Joseph 11. had conceived, and which was unhappily realized at a 
 
136 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vr. 
 
 later period in France, — not by a sovereign, but by a sovereign 
 assembly. 
 
 Such was tlie issue of the negotiations of the pope : hope aban- 
 doned him on every side, and he only now thought of retracing 
 his steps. In his defeat, he was consoled by magnificent pre- 
 sents, and by the highest honours. The emperor, followed by 
 the archdukes and all his court, accompanied the pontiff: he 
 returned him thanks for his glorious visit, promised to pay his 
 Holiness one in return, and beseeched him to reserve for him 
 the spectacle of a canonization. They parted, in tears, at the 
 convent of Maria-Brunn, three leagues distant from Vienna. 
 A touching inscription was ordered by the emperor to com- 
 memorate this event, and he intrusted the care of this to the 
 monks of Maria-Brunn ; nevertheless the same evening their 
 convent was sequestrated. 
 
 The pope returned to Rome : the defenders of his policy 
 asserted that, by this visit to Vienna, the pontiflf had rendered a 
 great service to the church, and they declared that the elo- 
 quence of the holy father had prevented the scandal of a schism. 
 Nevertheless this journey met with little general approbation, 
 and was deemed fruitless and humiliating. 
 
 The same event was renewed at the commencement of the 
 present century, but it produced different impressions : in our 
 days it caused neither ill-will nor derision. It has doubt- 
 less not met with unanimous applause : prejudices, interests, 
 and convictions have loudly denounced it, but without irony 
 or disdain, and even with a nobleness and gravity. This 
 marked contrast originates in the spirit of the age, in the cha- 
 racter of men and of aflfairs. There is no parallel between the 
 two emperors, nor any resemblance between the two pontiffs. 
 The Pope who was seen at Notre Dame was humble and gentle ; 
 his features reflected a heavenly tenderness, and were a true 
 mirror of his soul. His extraordinary paleness and emaciated 
 countenance, together with manners which were rendered august 
 by their very simplicity, although they did not captivate the eye, 
 yet touched the heart. Pius VI., who was above all a prince, 
 required striking actions, imposing and almost theatrical scenes : 
 he journeyed to the capital of Austria, followed by the taunts o£ 
 
CHAP. VI.] PIUS VI. AND PIUS VII. CONTRASTED. J 37 
 
 the different courts* and of the philosophical saloons. Pius 
 YII. made his progress to France, accompanied by all the power 
 of a religious re-action. Pius YI. opposed Voltaire, — Pius VII. 
 went hand in hand with Chateaubriand. 
 
 * See the following bouts-rime's, by the Coimt de Provence, completed by 
 the Marquis de ISIontesquieu : — 
 
 " C'est en vain que de Eome aux rives du Danube, 
 Notre antique mufti vient au petit galop. 
 Aujourd'hui pierre ponce, autrefois pierre cube, 
 II distillait Tabsinthe, a. present le sirop. 
 De son vieux barometre en observant le tube 
 II doit voir qu'on perd tout lorsqu'on exige trop." 
 
 Grimm, Correspondance, t. xi. p. 61, ed. Fume. 
 
138 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vii. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Jesuits repudiate the Brief for their suppression — Their retreat into 
 Prussia — Frederick the Great protects the Jesuits and quarrels with 
 the French philosophers — Causes of this disagreement — The Jesuits 
 in Russia — Their opposition to the Holy See — Ambiguous conduct of 
 Pius VL — Bull for their re-establishment. 
 
 According to the laws of the Eomish Church, the Society of 
 Jesus was legally dissolved. The anathema which was hurled 
 from the apostolic throne, and sanctioned ex cathedra^ was 
 explicit and irrevocable : it would have been criminal to appeal 
 against it. Some branches of the Catholic church, and some 
 spiritual corporations, had vainly tried to refer the arbitrary acts 
 of the Holy See to the revision of Councils ; but that opinion, if 
 not always punished, yet certain to be blamed at Rome, and con- 
 stantly refuted by the Jesuits, could not possibly obtain their 
 assent : the contradiction would have been too manifest. They 
 were not restrained by the past, but abjured it, in order to 
 turn the future in their favour ; they seized the only plank of 
 safety which remained out of their wreck, and, with amazing 
 courage, several amongst them, impeaching the legality of 
 Clement XIV., appealed to a higher council. 
 
 Some of the Jesuits, enfeebled or exhausted, consented to 
 forgo the name and dress of the Order, and to conceal theni- 
 selves under the new titles of Fathers of the Cross, of the Faith, 
 &c, ; but this artifice, which met with encouragement at a later 
 period, was highly offensive to the pride of those energetic men 
 who composed the society. They disdained to employ a 
 cowardly subterfuge, and, relying on the intentions of the suc- 
 cessor of Clement XIV., they resolved to wear the insignia of 
 Loyola in the presence of the powers who had publicly pro- 
 scribed them. While they were the objects of persecution to the 
 Catholic sovereigns, they looked around, and saw clearly that 
 the Protestant monarchs were about to become their patrons. In 
 
CHAP. TTi.] INCREASE OF THE OEDER IN PRUSSIA. 1.39 
 
 that age of sophistry, the Jesuits owed their protection to the 
 spirit of contradiction. 
 
 It was not enough for them to find a power which treated 
 everj^ different sect with neglect ; they required one alike insen- 
 sible to the influence of all, and which exacted from everv 
 church the renunciation of those ties which held it bound to a 
 foreign authority. It was further necessary that such a power 
 should be disposed to free the rebellious Order from the yoke 
 which it had so long proudly borne, and, of late, so publicly 
 broken. Tlse Jesuits required to be protected against the Court 
 of Rome. Through a strange confusion of things and of ideas, 
 all their hopes rested thenceforth upon the aid of some prince 
 who should be unconcerned on the subject of theology, but ex- 
 tremely tenacious of kingly power. 
 
 Frederick the Great was the prince to whom, even before the 
 publication of the brief of Clement XIV., the Jesuits had had 
 recourse. Father Ricci had kept up a regular correspondence 
 with the Court of Berlin, and Ganganelli had vainly endea- 
 voured to put an end to it. A nucleus of the society already 
 existed in Silesia. The Jesuits established in Prussia had paid 
 no regard to the brief for their suppression. In order to escape 
 from its consequences, they had built up a theory which was to 
 bear them out, and, according to which, a multitude of examples 
 supported them in their resistance. Without going back to St. 
 Paul, who withstood the chief of the apostles, there was John 
 Peccador, a brother of " La Charite," who refused to obey the 
 brief of Clement VIII. for the suppression of his Order, and yet 
 John Peccador had actually been canonized by Clement XIV. 
 himself. They added, that a bull is not binding in a state, so 
 long as the sovereign has not approved of its tenor and au- 
 thorised its execution ; especially when the pontifical writing 
 is not in the form of an injunction, but merely of exhortation, 
 like that of Clement XIV. This was a principle true in itself, 
 but applicable only to the relations of princes to the pope, — not 
 to those existing between an Order and the Holy See : it was, 
 moreover, a principle which had never before been acknow- 
 ledged by the Jesuits. 
 
 They set up however this new theology, and Frederick ap- 
 proved it as excellent, and as sufficiently Catholic. The Jesuits 
 
140 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vii. 
 
 became numerous in his dominions ; and very shortly, in spite 
 of bulls and briefs, houses were built, and superiors elected tc 
 them. The Bishop of Breslau thought he was doing his duty 
 in trying to suppress this rebellion in the name of the Holy 
 See ; but Frederick interposed, by the sequestration of the bishop- 
 ric, and by a declaration that he had taken the Order under his 
 royal protection. 
 
 Pius YI. was satisfied in his own mind ; but being hardly 
 pressed by Spanish and French diplomacy, he made some timid 
 attempts at expostulation. Frederick had expected this ; the 
 real sentiments of the pope had not escaped his penetration, and 
 he liked to flatter his secret designs, while he pretended to brave 
 him in public. What an extraordinary piece of good fortune 
 for a Protestant king, to be solicited by the pope to send away 
 the Jesuits, and solicited in vain ! The caustic temper of Fre- 
 derick was amused at the originality of his position ; and being 
 determined to carry on this political comedy to the end, he sent 
 secret agents to Pius VI. This pope, who was an enlightened 
 man, but greedy of applause, let slip some expressions which 
 were far from diplomatic in their character. He pitied the 
 Jesuits, and lamented their lot ; the Prussian agents joined 
 in his lamentations, and German address triumphed over Italian 
 cunning. 
 
 Unhappily for Pius VI., Frederick was neither a frank talker 
 nor a discreet confidant : he felt a mischievous delight in di- 
 vulging the effusions of the holy Father, and thus perplexing the 
 courts of Madrid and Naples. Florida Blanca, the prime 
 minister of Charles III., wrote to Rome in terms so harsh that 
 the Pope made his complaint at Berlin. Frederick lauglied in 
 his sleeve at the vexation of the Holy Father, answered him with 
 the haughty tone of an independent monarch, and displayed his 
 tender regard for the Jesuits more publicly than ever. After 
 this answer, there was a fresh explosion at the court of 
 Spain. 
 
 Pius YL, sorely distressed, sues for pardon, which Frederick 
 grants. He declares that, " in order to please the Pope, he allows 
 the Jesuits to abandon the dress of their Order — a change which 
 he deems necessary to its preservation ; but as to all other points, 
 revenue, education, &c., it was his sovereign will that they should 
 
CHAP, vii.l D'ALEMBERT REMONSTRATES. 141 
 
 remain inviolate." Upon this the Pope, with infinite satisfaction 
 at having got rid of a heavy responsibility; writes to the King of 
 Spain—-" I have done all in my power, but the King of Prussia 
 is master in his own dominions." 
 
 But was all this a pastime only, an amusement ? If so, 
 Frederick would soon have tired : his perseverance would not 
 have held out through the contest, but that other motives, more 
 weighty and important, instigated his conduct in this affair. 
 These motives were of two different kinds; some were ostensible, 
 others secret. Frederick had too much regard for public opinion 
 to delay the declaration of his avowed motives : he made them 
 known in the journals of the time — that is, in his correspondence 
 with the French philosophers. He says to D'Alembert, " I did 
 not offer my protection to the Jesuits while they were powerful ; 
 but in their adversity I reg^ard them as learned men, whom it 
 would be extremely difficult to replace in the office of educating 
 youth. This important object renders them most valuable in 
 my eyes ; for among all the Catholic clergy in my kingdom 
 the Jesuits alone are given to letters ; do not expect me then 
 to part with them for the mere asking." 
 
 Such was the motive which the King of Prussia openly avowed 
 for the protection he granted to a society of monks, but there 
 were others which he did not acknowledge. It was possible that 
 the interest he took in the education of the young Catholics of 
 Silesia, and the desire of winning their attachment in this newly 
 conquered province — the adroitness of the Jesuits in seconding 
 the governments which declared in their favour, and the use to 
 be made of their influence in Poland — it was possible that all 
 these motives were sufficient to engage the King of Prussia to 
 tolerate them : but these secondarj^ matters of policy had nothing 
 in them to kindle the stoical temper of the conqueror of Eos- 
 bach — nothing to account for the sort of protection he granted 
 them, which was not only marked and conspicuous, but studied 
 and self-willed. 
 
 The philosophers were amazed, mortified, and indignant; but 
 Frederick paid no regard to their anger, no attention to their com- 
 plaints : he had even a malicious enjoyment in disappointing the 
 hopes of the sect on a matter of so much importance to them. 
 In his case there was neither remorse nor apolog}-. Frederick did 
 
U2 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vit. 
 
 not turn to adore what he had burned ; he made no retractation — 
 he remained faithful to the catechism of the encyclopedists, and 
 piously subscribed to the statue of Voltaire. 
 
 Nevertheless, in the midst of these good works, the fruit of so 
 edifying a devotion, he proved himself less orthodox in the acts 
 of his home administration, and carefully followed the method 
 which the philosophers had themselves taught him, and which 
 found expression in the burlesque axiom, " II faut donner des 
 nasardes aux gens, en les comblant de politesses."* 
 
 D*Alembert was not deceived by all this management. In the 
 hope of constraining Frederick to cast off his new allies, he ap- 
 pealed to heaven, to earth, to philosophy, to the most sacred 
 oaths, and, as a last resource, to political arguments. He wished 
 that '• neither the king: nor his successors mis^ht ever have cause to 
 repent of granting an asylum to intriguers ;" and that these men 
 might prove more faithful than they had been in the last war of 
 Silesia.f Finding these arguments fruitless, D'Alembert tried 
 the monarch on the side of his vanity : he took the liberty to 
 doubt " whether the Jesuits would ever pay his Majesty the 
 honour of admitting him to their Order, as they did the great 
 Louis XIV., though he could well have dispensed with it; and 
 to the poor miserable James II., who was much more fit to be a 
 Jesuit than a king."{ After having exhausted every kind of 
 personal argument, he proceeded to more general considerations. 
 -' It is not on your Majesty's account," says he, " that I dread 
 the re-establishment of these formerly self-styled Jesuits, as the 
 late parliament of Paris called them. What harm indeed could 
 they do to a prince whom the Austrians, the Imperialists, the 
 French, and the Swedes united have been unable to deprive of 
 a single village ? But I am alarmed. Sire, lest other princes who 
 have not the same power as you have to make head against all 
 Europe, and who have weeded out this poisonous hemlock from 
 their garden, should one day take a fancy to come to you and 
 borrow seed to scatter their ground anew. I earnestly hope your 
 Majesty will issue an edict to forbid for ever the exportation of 
 Jesuitic grain, which can thrive nowhere but in your dominions."§ 
 
 * Frederick to Voltaire, March 16th, 1770. 
 
 t D'Alembert to Frederick, Dec. 10, 1773. ^ Ibid., Jan. 1773. 
 
 § D'Alembert to Frederick, April 24th, 1774. 
 
CHAP. VII.] D'ALEMBERT SOUNDS VOLTAIRE. 143 
 
 Frederick merely answered, that he had it too much at lieart to 
 keep the Jesuits, to give away the seed to any body, and that 
 "never had such gall and bitterness entered into the heart of a 
 truly wise man."* 
 
 D'Alembert was furious, but he kept his language within 
 moderate bounds. He owed the competence on which he sub- 
 sisted to the friendship of the Prussian monarch, and he dared 
 not, therefore, give voice to his resentment, which was the more 
 intense because it succeeded to a warm attachment. D'Alembert 
 restrained himself, but his bile overflowed in spite of his efforts. 
 At once passionate and prudent, he spared neither words of 
 double meaning, nor affected reserve, when either of these could 
 serve his purpose. He endeavoured to make Voltaire his as- 
 sociate in the work of revenge. '' AYhat do you think I am at 
 work upon now?" said he; ''the expulsion of the Jesuit rabble 
 from Silesia. That your quondam disciple has the greatest mind 
 to get rid of them, there can be no doubt, considering the treason 
 and perfidy which he endured from them during the last war. In 
 every letter I write to Berlin, I declare that the French philoso- 
 phers are amazed to find the king of the philosophers so slow in 
 imitating the kings of France and Portugal. These letters are 
 read to the king, who is verj'- sensitive to what the true believers 
 think of him, as you are aware ; and this grain will doubtless 
 produce a good effect, by the grace of God, who, as Scripture 
 truly says, turneth the hearts of kings. "t 
 
 D'Alembert's efforts to draw his friend into his project were 
 fruitless : Voltaire answered in studied phrases, simulating zeal 
 v.hich he was far from feeling, and doing nothing : in fact the 
 Jansenists were at that time the great object of his aversion. Since 
 the counterpoise of the Jesuits was removed, the Jansenists had 
 become too powerful ; and he hated them so cordially, that 
 *• his old blood boiled in his old veins," when he beheld their 
 omnipotence in parliament. This most variable of men remem- 
 bered that the Jesuits had been his preceptors, and was almost 
 inclined to feel regret for them ; besides, their downfall did not 
 appear to Voltaire to be an event of the first magnitude ; he 
 coveted something more important. Nor was this the only con- 
 
 * Frederick to D'Alembert, May 15th, 1774. 
 
 f D'Alembert to Voltaire, Dec. loth, 1763. / 
 
144 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. yii. 
 
 sideration which led him to be cautious. He had often disagreed 
 with the King of Prussia, and their quarrels had not answered 
 well to either party ; he was therefore unwilling to run the risk 
 of a rupture, and D'Alembert got no other answer to his clamours 
 than commonplace consolations. " Frederick," said he, " has 
 certain prejudices which must be excused : kings are not kings 
 for nothing : — you must take kings and the gods as they are." * 
 Moreover, the strange part which it now pleased the Solomon of 
 the North to enact amused the anarchical imagination of the aged 
 Voltaire. It diverted him beyond measure to think of Frederick 
 as general of the Jesuits : he hoped this would inspire the Pope 
 with the idea of becoming Mufti. D'Alembert took the matter 
 less gaily ; he found no better consolation than that of acquaint- 
 ing the King of Spain with the conduct of the adroit society 
 towards the King of Prussia : — " Apropos of those thieves ; did 
 I tell you what the King of Prussia said to me in a letter of 
 the 8th of December ? * I have given audience to an ambassador 
 from the general of the Ignatians, urging me to declare myself 
 openly the protector of their Order. I replied that when Louis 
 XV. had thought proper to disband the regiment of Fitz-James, 
 I had not seen fit to intercede for that body, and that it was 
 for the pope to make whatever reforms he pleased in his own 
 states, without the interference of heretics.' I gave a copy of 
 this passage of the king's letter to the Spanish and Neapolitan 
 ministers, who, sharing our tender regard for the Jesuits, sent 
 the extract to their respective courts, as we are told in the 
 Gazette de Hollande, I trust that the friendship of the King 
 of Spain for the Society will increase, and that this little 
 circumstance will serve, as Tacitus has it, impeUere imerites"^ 
 
 The protection afforded to the Jesuits by the great Frederick 
 indicates an important change in the spirit of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury. From that moment a schism took place between the 
 crowned heads and the philosophei's of the age. However it 
 might be concealed or disguised by precautions taken on either 
 side, however its effects might be retarded by a long interval of 
 general war, this schism was not the less profound, and from its 
 very origin irremediable. 
 
 * Voltaire to D'Alembert, June 11, 1776. 
 t D'Alembert to Voltaire, Jan. 9, 1773. 
 
CHAP. vii.J VOLTAIRE'S LETTER. 145 
 
 Frederick was disposed to like the French philosophers ; their 
 union was formed by common principles, and cemented by 
 gratitude. The philosophers were his most sincere allies ; they 
 took part in his glory as if it was their own, and celebrated his 
 successes with personal exultation. How often during the war 
 did that little group, strolling under the chesnut-trees of the 
 Tuileries — Diderot, d'Alembert, Marmontel, Morellet — rejoice 
 at the reverses of Maria Theresa ! The King of Prussia was at- 
 tached to the leaders of the new school by a genuine friendship. 
 The event which broke up their union could not but be one of 
 serious importance ; and although Frederick's conduct deserves 
 severe reprehension after he had quarrelled with his former 
 masters, we must appeal to their own principles for an expla- 
 nation of the riddle in which their dispute originated. 
 
 At this second period of its history, the school of the French 
 philosophers had undergone a transformation. Its former axioms 
 were now extended to fresh corollaries, and its attacks were no 
 longer exclusively directed against the institutions and doctrines 
 of relio-ion. Thev had descended from the things of heaven to the 
 things of earth ; and the philosophy of the eighteenth century, 
 which had begun in religion, morality, and speculation, ended in 
 the more positive and practical application of these subjects to 
 politics. In writing the history of this remarkable sect, the 
 different periods of its rise and progress have not been accu- 
 rately distinguished. Men speak of it as if it had sprung into 
 existence completely armed ; whereas in fact it passed through 
 the common gradations of the world, and had, like every other 
 living thing, its infancy, its boyhood, its youth, and its manhood. 
 Without tracing its history further back, Fontenelle may be re- 
 garded as the representative of the earliest period of the philo- 
 sophy of the eighteenth century, — of whom it was said that 
 " his hands were full of truths, though he took good care not to 
 open them." He did indeed open them sometimes, but always 
 with circumspection. 
 
 Fontenelle was followed by Voltaire, who, in spite of the 
 unprecedented boldness of his style, still retained a certain de- 
 gree of caution in his literarj- labours. The following fragment 
 of one of his letters contains the substance of his life : — 
 
 *' No, my dear Marquis (M. de Villevieille), no, — a modern 
 
 I. 
 
146 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap, vii 
 
 Socrates drinks no hemlock. The Socrates of Athens was, be- 
 tween ourselves, a most imprudent fellow, a pitiless caviller, who 
 had made a thousand enemies, and affronted his judges very nmch 
 out of season. Our philosophers of the present day are much 
 more adroit ; they have not the foolish and dangerous vanity of 
 putting their names to their writings. Fanaticism is pierced 
 from one end of Europe to the other, but the hands that aim 
 these shafts of truth are invisible. Damilaville is just dead ; he 
 was the author of the * Christianisme devoile,' and many other 
 productions. Nobody ever knew it — his friends kept his secret 
 as long as he lived with a fidelity worthy of philosophers. No 
 one knows who is the author of the book published under the 
 name of Freret. In the last two years more than sixty volumes 
 have been printed in Holland against superstition, the authors of 
 which are wholly unknown, though they might boldly declare 
 themselves. The Italian who wrote La Rifonna d^ Italia cer- 
 tainly did not present his work to the pope, but the book has had 
 a vast effect. A thousand pens are writing, a hundred thousand 
 voices are raised, against abuses and in favour of toleration. 
 You may be sure that the revolution which has taken place in 
 people's minds, within the last twelve years, has done much to- 
 wards the expulsion of the Jesuits from so many states, and has 
 encouraged princes to aim a blow at that idol of Rome which 
 formerly made them all tremble. The mass of the people in- 
 deed is stupid enough, but yet the light penetrates even to 
 them : be assured, for instance, that there are not in Geneva 
 twenty persons who do not forswear Calvin as heartily as the 
 Pope, and that there are philosophers in the shops of Paris. 
 
 " I shall die happy if I see true religion, namely that of the 
 heart, established on the ruins of false pretence. I have always 
 preached in favour of worshipping God, and practising benefi- 
 cence and toleration. With these sentiments I brave the devil, 
 who has no existence, and tlie real devils of fanaticism, whose 
 existence is but too evident." 
 
 This letter was written in the end of 1768, and contains not a 
 word of politics ; it is all about religion, toleration, and specu- 
 lative philosophy. In fact, the absence of the political element 
 is the distinctive mark of that philosophy whose high-priest was 
 Voltaire, and whose prevot was D'Alembert. We who live in 
 
CHAP. VII.] MONTESQUIEU AND HOOP. 147 
 
 the nineteenth century can liardly comprehend this. Politics were 
 nothing to our fathers' fatliers, — they were much to our fathers, 
 and to us they are everything. The eighteenth century was ab- 
 sorbed in general ideas, and looked forward into an immense 
 and dim futurity : it dwelt upon the indefinite perfectibility 
 of the human race, and disdained to discuss the different forms 
 of government. A subject which is so interesting in our eyes, 
 and so important in itself, appeared to our predecessors a se- 
 condary consideration. Taking their stand upon a fancied eleva- 
 tion, the human race appeared to them the principal object ; and 
 in those days, the leading men of talent left the subject of politics 
 to kings, ministers, secretaries, and mistresses. Voltaire, while 
 in England, gave his thoughts to popes, to deism, to Lord Boling- 
 broke, to the logic of Locke ; and three or four lines in the 
 Henriade were all he bestowed to pay his debt to the representa- 
 tive government. 
 
 There was one man indeed who, though completely imbued 
 Mith philosophy, felt that politics might be placed in the same 
 rank : he sav/ no inferiority, because there was applicability. By 
 an effort of genius, which it has now become difficult to appreciate 
 at its true value, he perceived that to pass from generalities to 
 practical measures was not to recede but to make progress. 
 L' Esprit des Loix appeared in the middle of the century, but it 
 appeared alone, and was in fact a wonderful accident. The 
 philosophy of the day, and the very different direction of the 
 public mind, caused the book to be completely misunderstood. 
 The apparent frivolity of certain passages was taken literally, 
 and those who could not reach the profundity of Montesquieu's 
 thought, accused him of treating his subject superficially. Strange 
 as this accusation seems, it was sincere. When the author con- 
 sulted the President Helvetius about his manuscript, he regretted 
 that he employed his time and sought amusement in such trifles : 
 — " What the devil does he mean to teach us with his treatise 
 on fiefs ? is this a subject of research for a wise and reasonable 
 man ? .... In youth his fine talent had risen to the height of 
 
 the Lettres Persanes Our friend IMontesquieu will now be 
 
 nothing more than a lawyer, a gentleman, and a wit : I am 
 grieved for him, and for mankind, whose interests he might have 
 served so much better !" (Letter from Helvetius to Saurin.) The 
 
 l2 
 
U8 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vii. 
 
 work of Montesquieu was therefore far from dazzling the world 
 at its first appearance. It was produced too early, not for itself, 
 but for its judges ; and its renown did not travel from France 
 throughout Europe, but was imported from Europe into France. 
 The first school of philosophy, morals, and theology moved 
 around this colossal statue without touching it at any one point. 
 L" Esprit des Loix was not understood until after the appearance 
 of Le Contrat Social. Rousseau, who introduced into philosophy 
 the matter-of-fact of politics, and into politics the vagueness of 
 philosophy, belonged nevertheless to the first school, although 
 he founded the second. But of him we shall not speak here — 
 his name alone is a complete revolution. 
 
 This political school, derived indirectly from Rousseau, and 
 directly from Raynal and Diderot, deviated widely from the 
 principles of Montesquieu, but nevertheless it proceeded entirely 
 from him. It was full of native and vigorous freshness, and 
 contained the germ not only of the Constituent Assembly, but 
 of the Convention.* 
 
 We repeat, then, that the French school of philosophy had 
 entered the arena of politics. As long as Voltaire retained 
 his place at their head, every attack was directed against Chris- 
 tianity : other institutions were not assailed, but on the contrary, 
 were indulged and favoured. The rich, the noble, and the 
 powerful did not think themselves interested in the assaults 
 
 * To be convinced that this school was young in politics, it suffices to read 
 the correspondence of Diderot with Mile. Voland : — " Father Hoop and I 
 have been walking together tete-a-tete, from half-past three o'clock till six. 
 He pleases me more and more. We were talking politics : I asked him a 
 hundred questions concerning the English Parliament, which is a body com- 
 posed of about 500 persons, holding its sittings in a very large building. 
 Six or seven years ago the house was open to everybody, and the most im- 
 portant affairs of the state were discussed in presence of the nation, assembled 
 and seated in vast galleries above the heads of the representatives. Can you 
 believe, dear friend, that any man would dare, in the face of the whole 
 people, to get up and propose a mischievous project, or oppose a useful one, 
 and so declare himself stupid or bad ? You will, no doubt, ask me why the 
 debates are now carried on in private. Father Hoop informed me (for 1 put 
 the same question to him) that there are a multitude of affairs whose success 
 depends upon secrecy, and that was found to be impossible. ' We have,' he 
 added, 'men who possess the art of what is called short-handwriting, who 
 can write faster than the words are uttered.' The debates in the Houses of 
 Parliament used to appear in print, both at home and abroad, exactly as 
 they took place, which was attended by much inconvenience." 
 
 Would not any one suppose it was Gulliver giving an account of Lilliput ? 
 — and this was written in 1770! 
 
CHAP. VII.] VOLTAIEE'S DILEMMA. 149 
 
 against religion. Joined as they were by fashion in the anti- 
 Christian league, the sovereigns and nobles found a safeguard in 
 the confederation which they thus formed. The men in place, 
 the ministers for the time being, and those who hoped to be- 
 come such, feared the return of cardinals and prelates to be 
 masters of the kingdom. Thus, far from restraining the audacity 
 of the new philosophy, the rich, high-born, and powerful made 
 it a point of honour to encourage, strengthen, and increase it. 
 Without their help it would never have come to maturity, whilst 
 it is also true that the support which aided it in infancy did it in- 
 jury at an advanced period. Then it was not enough to have the 
 support of a few choice spirits ; numbers were necessar}- to its 
 existence ; it must reckon on the adhesion of the masses, and 
 of course was forced to give up the aiistocracy as allies. The 
 rupture with the higher class was soon effected, and began on 
 the side of the philosophers. This new direction given to the 
 popular mind, so unlike the vague and indefinite notions which 
 had prevailed, soon became an imperious leader. There was no 
 want of interpreters, who undertook to disseminate the new doc- 
 trine with all the zeal of novices. The emphatic Diderot, the 
 declamatory Eaynal, d'Holbach, Naigeon, and several more, 
 got hold of the Encyclopedia, the Mercurys, the pamphlets of the 
 day, in short of everything which took the place of the journals. 
 They infused into their attacks, which had hitherto been general, 
 a degree of personality most alarming to the higher classes ; 
 sparing neither religion nor the priesthood, and from the 
 sacred temples of the Christians presuming to attack the QEil- 
 de-Boeuf. To the great astonishment of the court, and to 
 the amusement of the town, a gentleman of the bedchamber 
 and a lady of quality were travestied and insulted in print ; nay, 
 what was still more atrocious, they were called by their names.* 
 
 * See, in the contemporary memoirs, the quarrel of Marmontel with the 
 Duke d'Aumont and the pamphlet entitled La Vision. Voltaire expressed 
 his displeasure at this : — " They have veiy absurdly brought forward the Ma- 
 reschal de Luxembourg's daughter into the quarrel with Palissot. Authors 
 may, if they please, fling rotten apples at each other, but they are not to fling 
 them at the Montmorencies. I'll have nothing at all to do with these quar- 
 rels. The marchioness and the duke have honoured me with their kindness, 
 the king is my patron, and I lead a pleasant life." C Voltaire to the President 
 de Brosse, p. 126. Correspondence published by M. Foisset: Paris, Leva- 
 vasseur, 1837.) 
 
150 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vii. 
 
 But the culprits were threatened with the Bastille. The 
 great treated Christ and his apostles with irreverence, but they 
 would not endure the like towards themselves. Foro-ettincj: 
 their character of philosophers, they became sensitive only to 
 what was due to their rank, and even the Duke de Choisenl was 
 forced to yield to the esprit de corps. Voltaire, who came in 
 for his share of blame, was in an agony of fear : he wrote to 
 his friends, reproaching them sharply for their imprudence, and 
 foretold inevitable disasters if they persisted in such a course ; but 
 the plebeian soul of D'Alembert had no pity for the complaints 
 of the old aristocrat ; the foundling of St. Etienne-le-liond en- 
 joyed every insult which was offered to high birth. Voltaire 
 tried in vain to shield his court friends from attack : nobody minded 
 his entreaties, and he was fairly left behind. When compelled to 
 give up the courtiers, he endeavoured at least to save the princes. 
 As long as the shafts were aimed only at the (Eil-de-Boeuf, 
 Voltaire did not give up all for lost. The other courts of Europe 
 were not friendly to Versailles ; they had no sympathy for the 
 vexations of a French marchioness or duke, nor any pity for 
 the humiliation of a class whose frivolity they pretended to 
 despise, even while they envied its elegance. The foreign 
 courts, therefore, were not much alarmed ; and, indeed, the 
 dereliction of Voltaire, though actually true, was not pub- 
 licly known. In their dependence upon him, crowned heads 
 slept in peace, and placed their reliance upon the good taste, the 
 perfect tact, and the great ability of their secular corre- 
 spondent. Princes thought they had a right to say, " The 
 pupil of the Vendomes and the Du Maines, the table-companion 
 of Frederick, the protege of his mistresses, will surely be our 
 defender : he will know better than to place us along with a 
 Freron, or with the Ass of Mirepoix" They reasoned rightly 
 enough : Voltaire would have been glad to maintain the dignity 
 of rank, but he had no longer any power : his disciples were 
 become his masters, and demanded an opposite course. Their 
 former deference for him was gone : instead of imploring, they 
 commanded the patriarch, and held a language to him which was 
 haughty, dr}^, and harsh ; instead of asking his advice, they 
 demanded wages. Voltaire detested their yoke, but never- 
 theless submitted to it : he feebly attempted to disparage the 
 
CHAP. Til.] VOLTAIRE EXASPERATES FREDERICK. 151 
 
 fortunate of the earth, whom he had lauded so profusely, and 
 encumbered his numerous works with dull and miserable second 
 readings, contradicted by his habits and refuted by his recol- 
 lections. 
 
 Frederick pitied such weakness : Voltaire, thus broken down, 
 could give no alarm ; but, as a monarch and absolute chief of a 
 militarj' state, he felt the danger to be apprehended from the im- 
 perious disciples of his protege. 
 
 The King of Prussia had ever been remarkablv insensible to 
 personal attacks, but he grew uneasy at the repeated censure 
 which his political conduct excited. He was keenly alive to the 
 change of principles and system which he saw going on, and 
 which threatened a complete moral revolution. The new philo- 
 sophers, in speaking of his renown, used no longer the same 
 flattering terms as formerly : he was no longer an idol, and they 
 dealt out to him conditional praise. Thus Raynal, in his His- 
 toire des deux hides, terminates a pathetic appeal with this un- 
 courtly sentence : — " Oh, Frederick, thou hast been a warlike 
 king ; be more ! thou didst yield up thy money to Jews, thy 
 finances to foreign robbers." Diderot, in the same style, 
 made a double and ridiculous allusion to the kinsr's talent for 
 music and the arid soil of Prussia. " "What a pity," says he, 
 " that the mouth-piece of that flute is stopped up by the sand of 
 Brandenburg !"* Frederick had often been attacked super- 
 ficially, but the weapon was now plunged deeper : instead of 
 common accusations against his ambition or despotic character, 
 ironical sneers about his morals and temper, and the like, he had 
 now to endure a serious examination into his administration, his 
 means of government, and financial resources — in short, a severe 
 criticism, in the place of satire. While suffering acutely from 
 these attacks, iJie King of Prussia maintained, in public, an 
 appearance of scornful indifference, and his secret vexation was 
 discoverable only in private intercourse. Those words of his 
 have been often repeated, " If I had a province which I wished 
 to punish, I would give it over to the philosophers." This was 
 the sum and substance of his familiar conversations. One day, 
 moved bv intense bitterness of feelins:, he took Thiebault aside, 
 and said to him with a scornful smile, " How is it I have not 
 
 * Encyclopedia, first edition. 
 
152 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vii. 
 
 heard from you the confession, that the philosophers of our 
 time are indeed men of wonderful and lofty genius? "Why 
 are we so ungrateful ? Let us admit that there has never 
 been anything to compare with them, though we may lament 
 that they are not more within our reach. What a pity it is 
 that they cannot descend from their elevated sphere, so that 
 we poor mortals might profit by their instructions ! When 
 a lucky star, however, leads me to any of their admirable 
 works, I employ my best efforts to penetrate into their sense, 
 and improve myself by them. I have nothing to reproach 
 myself with on this head ; I study them with my utmost 
 courage and perseverance. You must agree that the philo- 
 sophers of our days are great men ! If they appear to you 
 obscure or perplexed, be assured the fault is in you, who 
 are too insignificant to reach to their genius."* 
 
 The exasperation of Frederick could not be restrained any 
 longer, and he awaited only a fit occasion to break out, 
 whenever the personal attacks should be changed into general 
 ones. This character they very shortly assumed, and the con- 
 flict between the philosophers and their royal patron was de- 
 cided. The first matter of dispute was the commonplace topic 
 of war. Voltaire, with his usual versatility, followed the impulse 
 given : the panegyrist of Fontenoy, the poet of Henry IV., 
 became the satirist of military glory, and treated war as if it were 
 the art of cutting men's throats. 
 
 Frederick considered this language a profanation not to be en- 
 dured, and resolved to avenge the science which had made his 
 glory, and whose praises he had sung. Voltaire foresaw what 
 would happen, and thought to cajole the monarch by one of those 
 ingenious uses of familiarity which in favoured times had so 
 well succeeded ; but the case was altered, and he failed. He 
 sent the king some of his charming verses, just as he used to do 
 twenty years earlier, but they were ill received. "j* Instead of 
 
 * Thiebault, Souvenirs, vol. iii. p. 153 ; Paris, Bosange. 
 f " A Frederic surtout ofFrez ce bel ouvrage, 
 Et soyez convaingu qu'il en sait davantage. 
 Lucifer I'inspira, bien mieux que votre auteur. 
 II est maitre passe dans cet art plein d'horreur. 
 Plus adroit meurtrier que Gustave et qu'Eugene." 
 
 Poesies le'geres, la Tactique. 
 
CHAP. VII.] ' LE SYSTEME DE LA NATURE.' 153 
 
 favour, they were met with a settled severity, which was not to 
 be disarmed by their grace and elegance. The king pretended 
 to be angry at the boldness of the offering, which he would 
 formerly not have failed to reward. He reproached the philoso- 
 phers with endeavouring to destroy, at their source, the noble 
 sentiments of honour, military courage, and patriotism. From 
 the time when the unfortunate Tactique appeared, his letters 
 were full of discontent and bitterness. Instead of thanks, 
 Voltaire received cutting reproaches : — " Your Tactique threw 
 me into a severe fit of the gout, from which I have not yet reco- 
 vered. Nevertheless, I am determined to answer you, seeing 
 that the great men of the earth choose to be promptly obeyed. 
 Governments, regardless how cynics rail, keep on their course, 
 and fever does the same. What remains but some well-con- 
 structed verses, which testify to astonished Europe that your 
 genius is not superannuated? You might as well declaim 
 against the snow and the hail as against war ; they are, all of 
 them, necessary evils, and it is unworthy of a philosopher to 
 engage in useless undertakings. A physician is applied to that 
 he may cure a fever, and not write against it : if you have any 
 remedy for war, pray propose it — if you have none, have pity 
 upon our misfortune. We must say \dth the angel Ithuriel, 
 ' If all is not right in this world, it is endurable, and we must 
 learn to be content with our lot.' 
 
 " In the meantime, your Russian heroes follow up victory by 
 victor)^ on the banks of the Danube, hi the hopes of subduing 
 the Sultan's obstinacy. They read your libels, and then begin 
 fighting. Your empress too, as you are pleased to call her, has 
 sent another fleet to the Mediterranean ; and while you are trying 
 to Amte down the art of war, and calling it infernal, I could find 
 more than twenty of your letters which encourage me to mix in 
 the troubles of the East. Reconcile these contradictions, if you 
 can, and have the goodness to show me their agreement." * 
 
 Voltaire retracted in part, and his apology caused a suspension 
 of hostilities ; but they recommenced more sharply than ever, and 
 became implacable after the publication of Le Systeme de la 
 Nature. Nothing had yet appeared, even in the eighteenth 
 centurj^ so bold, so incoherent, so strong in some of its details, 
 * Frederick to Voltaire, Jan. 4th, Feb. 9th, July 30th, 1774. 
 
154 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vit. 
 
 and yet so miserable as a whole, as the work in question. In its 
 pages everything was disputed — God and man, created things 
 and institutions, morals, the soul. Providence, virtue : this book, 
 which was teeming with revolution, had cost its authors no more 
 trouble than a vaudeville would in our time — planned, conceived, 
 and merrily completed by a knot of giddy young fellows in a 
 cafe. A similar proceeding had given rise to the Systeme de la 
 Nature : it was a kind of pic-nic work, to which each man con- 
 tributed the arguments he espoused. 
 
 In the centre of luxury and dissipation, under the patronage of 
 the Baron d'Holbach, who gave his name to the firm, like the 
 head of a merchant's house, thirty daring and excited individuals, 
 heated by conversation and good cheer, made a compact to leave 
 nothing untouched in heaven or earth, or, what was worse still, 
 in the heart of man. And whence sprung this deplorable zeal ? 
 Were they men of bad life, or of wicked intentions ? The oppo- 
 site party have pretended that they were, but such is not the 
 truth. No serious reproach attaches to the remembrance of their 
 private life, in which there was little to condemn or to blame. 
 They possessed, like the generality of mankind, a mixture of good 
 qualities and infirmities : they were not driven to this work of 
 destruction by any pressing necessity, nor by any personal hatred. 
 None of them were gloomy or misanthropic. Diderot was some- 
 times in a state of excitement resembling the Pythoness ; but he 
 was careless, indolent, and ea§y-tempered as a child. The little 
 Abbe Galiani, who had a cJiaracter for sublimity, if he had 
 penetrated into everything, yet retained no hold upon anything. 
 Helvetius was never surpassed in princely beneficence, nor the 
 noble and virtuous use of a large fortune. Grimm was a man 
 of fashion, met with everywhere — a sort of amphibious creature, 
 half diplomatic, half literary — gallant, agreeable, polite, covered 
 with white, ingenious, learned, and a truly remarkable man in 
 a rather narrow intellectual circle. The countenance of the 
 Baron d'Holbach was radiant with joy ; his contemporaries styled 
 him un homme simplement simple. Eaynal gathered up the 
 leavings of Diderot's improvisation, and with infinite labour 
 made them into bi^: books : in his enthusiasm he was still a 
 plagiary ; but Raynal, Naigeon, and some others, came in at the 
 tail of the association ; they were prepared to follow, but not to 
 
CHAP. Til.] FREDERICK TURNS AUTHOR. 155 
 
 lead. Thus then, in all good-humour, without pretension and 
 without bitterness, they set themselves to share the work like 
 jovial companions, and they actually drew lots for it. Each 
 man found something to take to pieces : one began upon the 
 soul, another the body ; one attacked paternal love, gratitude, 
 conscience. Nothing escaped them : all subjects were examined, 
 dissected, disputed, denied — condemned loudly, and without ap- 
 peal. It was a kind of Old Testament, which prefigured the 
 New by types and symbols — an intellectual committee of public 
 safety. There is no denying the pernicious influence of writings 
 such as these ; if they were not accountable for all the errors of 
 the changes which followed, they cannot be absolved from the 
 crime of having produced great excesses : it would be ignorance 
 or falsehood to pretend otherwise. 
 
 Frederick read this hideous but prophetic book : a fatal 
 light gleamed across his mind, and made him dread the future. 
 The ancient monarchical form of government seemed to totter 
 to its base ; but he was too proud to alter his course, or to 
 enter upon a retrograde or vindictive policy. His subjects were 
 not made to feel the effects of his vexation and regret : the 
 kingdom of Prussia remained in its usual state. Frederick re- 
 solved to combat the philosophers with their own arms — not by 
 edicts or the sword, but by argument. 
 
 This moderation in such a passionate nature was a proof of 
 real greatness ; for the new philosophy had wounded him in the 
 most sensitive part. The old Voltaire school had always carefully 
 separated the cause of the ancient royalty from that of the 
 clergy-, but the Holbach school insisted on combining them : 
 they were alike held up to the ridicule of the people, and, 
 with bitter raillery, advised to make common cause. Placed 
 in this new point of view, the alliance of the king with the phi- 
 losophers became tridy inconsistent, and even almost ridiculous. 
 Frederick complained of it seriously to Voltaire and D'Alembert. 
 They had been so far dazzled and overpowered as to applaud the 
 Systeme at its first appearance ; but, alarmed at the effect of the 
 work upon the king, they became eager to deliver it up to his 
 indignation. 
 
 D'Alembert carried his hypocrisy so far as to refuse the title 
 
156 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. vii. 
 
 of philosopher.* Voltaire bestowed upon the audacious libel 
 the same injurious epithet of \vhich he had ever been prodigal.- 
 But Frederick was not to be turned from his purpose by these 
 disavowals : he was too well initiated in the characters of his 
 former friends, to form a wrong estimate of their sincerity, and 
 maintained towards them the same severe aspect. In his inter- 
 course with them he caused them to tread such a thorny path, 
 that nothing but the dread of publicly forfeiting the illustrious 
 adept, who was in fact already lost to them, could have induced 
 them to endure such contempt. The correspondence which 
 continued bore evident marks of lassitude ; in vain did the royal 
 letters contain the old declarations of friendship — they could 
 not conceal the hatred which rankled in his heart. 
 
 " Let there be no war between unbelievers," exclaimed Vol- 
 taire to his friend D'Alembert. " Take care that the enemies 
 of philosophy do not find out discord in the camp of Agramant. 
 A certain dissertation is going to appear !" This dreaded disser- 
 tation was a public refutation of the Systeme de la Nature by 
 the King of Prussia. Voltaire thought to parry the blow, by 
 hurling a philosophic ordonnance against the work itself ;t but 
 Frederick was not to be caught by this manceuvre, and moreover 
 determined to shed his withering influence over the new doctrine, 
 which had been supported, and laid down, and taken up again so 
 many times, by Voltaire. 
 
 It would be impossible to give any abstract or epitome of this 
 work of the King of Prussia : it requires careful examination, 
 and close attention to follow its thread. Frederick must be 
 heard in his own peculiar language, which is unpolished and 
 incorrect, often devoid of grace, but never of strength : equally 
 free from affectation and vanity, it is the simple expression of his 
 royal good sense. 
 
 Thus Frederick the Great, in the decline of his glorious career, 
 denounced the Encyclopedists, and held them up to the attacks of 
 
 * D'Alembert to Frederick, June 8th, 1770 : " Je ne veux pas de ce titre la, 
 il y a trop de faquins qui le portent." 
 
 f Voltaire often changed his opinion about the Systeme de la Nature: 
 at first he thought it full of excellent things, and strongly argued ; but this 
 partial judgment did not last. (Letter to D"Alembert, July 16, 1770.) He 
 was a yet more determined enemy to atheism than to Christianity. 
 
CHAP. VII.] THE ORDER IN RUSSIA. 157 
 
 future generations ; but he forbore to cast reflections upon the 
 past. Though he had quarrelled with the philosophers, he re- 
 mained faithful to philosophy, and gave no signs of a late re- 
 pentance. Such weakness he left to the men whose hearts 
 were too weak to bear the weight of their passions, and 
 take the responsibility of their opinions — the men who, inca- 
 pable of doing themselves justice, whether in youth or in age, 
 had in early life given themselves up to the most absurd appli- 
 cation of a salutary principle which they could not comprehend, 
 and disgraced their old age by unworthy disavowals and cow- 
 ardly repentance. Frederick did not choose to bring the past to 
 battle with the future, but it was evident to that great king and 
 wise man that an embankment must be made against the over- 
 flow of the torrent ; and it was less with a viev/ to the benefit of 
 his new conquest, Silesia, than from general motives of policy, 
 that he tried to counteract the Encyclopedists, by upholding with 
 his powerful hand the remains of the Society of Jesus. 
 
 Catherine II. was also their protector, but the motives which 
 made her so were very different from those which actuated the 
 King of Prussia. The empress kept up a correspondence with 
 the philosophers, but it was within the bounds of moderation, 
 and perfectly exempt from enthusiasm. If she tolerated the 
 boldness of their views, she did not adopt them, or give way to 
 pleasantr5\ Always calm, and often serious, she never went too 
 far, nor compromised herself in this very difficult intercourse. 
 The reasons, therefore, of her favouring the Jesuits were essen- 
 tially different from those which we have thought it right to attri- 
 bute to Frederick ; if not entirely different, they were so in a great 
 measure. They were not speculative causes, but solely and 
 purely practical. Catherine looked for nothing beyond political 
 auxiliaries in the Jesuits. On this ground she retained them 
 in White Russia, which was an ancient Polish province ; and 
 her confidence was not abused — the Jesuits were of immense 
 service to her in her designs upon Poland. 
 
 In the year 1772, the sera of the first partition, the Fathers 
 resided at Polotsk, in a magnificent college, surrounded by a 
 wide extent of lands belonging to them, and possessing, under 
 the name of serfs, about 10,000 peasants, partly on the left, 
 partly on the right bank of the Dwina. They exercised a pro- 
 
158 THE FALL OF THE JESUITS. [chap. yii. 
 
 digions influence over the whole country. When they found 
 themselves, after the bull of Clement XIV., obliged either to 
 submit to their entire suppression, or accept the protection pro- 
 mised in another land, they did not hesitate ; but leaving the 
 left bank of the Dwina, which was still Polish, for the right, 
 which was become Russian, they swore allegiance to Catherine, 
 and kept their state, their habit, and their name, notwithstanding 
 the brief, the publication of which they also obtained to be pro- 
 hibited in all the Russias. 
 
 From this period they maintained a sort of primate or patriarch 
 of the Catholics, the prelate Siestrencewiecz, who was originally 
 a Calvinist, and married ; and who became a priest, but of very 
 equivocal orthodoxy. They favoured his nomination to the 
 metropolitan see of Mohilow ; and to prove that he was the man 
 of their choice, or at least that they approved of his election, they 
 appointed a Jesuit of the name of Benislawski, his coadjutor. 
 Upheld by the authority of the empress, and armed with earnest 
 letters from this princess to the pope, the Jesuit Benislawski set 
 out for Rome, went straight to the Vatican, and accosting the Holy 
 Father w ith a commanding tone, required him to grant the pal- 
 lium to the Archbishop of Mohilow. Not being able imme- 
 diately to obtain this favour, he declared that if he had to spend 
 his life in the antechamber of the pope, he would never quit it 
 until he was satisfied on every point.* His dem.and was complied 
 with, and very shortly a nuncio was despatched to St. Petersburg. 
 From that moment Pius VI., who was disposed to favour the 
 Jesuits, gave way to his inclination, and openly maintained the 
 suppression of the Society, wdiile he favoured their growth in 
 Russia, condemning and encouraging them at the same time. In 
 1782 the Fathers of Polotsk met in congregation, and elected a 
 vicar, who governed the college for two years. In time they 
 grew tired of such expedients, and the vicar took the name of 
 General of the Order. And yet the brief of Clement XIV. 
 existed, together with the anomaly of a religious order in rebellion 
 against the holy Father, yet approved by him in secret, — upheld 
 by all the powers separated from Rome, against those powers who 
 remained in her communi ^n, — and, more extraordinary still, the 
 papacy at war with itself! 
 
 * Bernis to Vergennes. 
 
CHAP. Til.] EE-ESTABLISHMEXT OF THE ORDER. 159 
 
 The nursery of the Society was kept up in White Russia, and 
 owed much to a man whose great ability resembled the now 
 extinct Jesuits of former times, a real successor of Aquaviva 
 and Laynez. This father, whose name was Grouber, and who 
 was made General of his Order, kept within the bounds of a 
 politic prudence. The ardent and indiscreet zeal for proselyting, 
 which discovered itself at a later period, led to the expulsion of 
 the Society from the kingdom which had aiforded them a con- 
 stant asylum ; but this settlement in the north was no lono-er 
 needful for them. Pius YII. relieved tliem from their degrrada- 
 tion, and the bull of tliis pope {Sollicitudo omnium ecclesiarum\ 
 dated the 7th of August, 1814, revoking the brief of Ganganelli, 
 formally set it aside, and re-established the Society of Jesus 
 throughout the world. 
 
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MR. MURRAY^S LIST OF WORKS. 11 
 
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MR. Murray's list of works. 13 
 
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