Chapter XIII. Papal Suppression of the Society.

When Clement XIII became pope, in 1758, events which had grown out of the conduct of the Jesuits were hurrying forward so rapidly that even he, with all the existing pontifical power in his hands, was unable to arrest them, although, as the patron of the society, he endeavored to do so. There was no longer any ground for compromise. Their persistent disobedience of royal authority and interference with political affairs had made it necessary for the Governments to decide whether they should further submit to them or vindicate their own authority by whatsoever steps were required. In Portugal the culminating point was reached by an attempt to assassinate the king. The actual perpetrators were arrested, tried, and executed; but in the course of the investigation it was developed, to the satisfaction of the public authorities, that the deed had been incited by the Jesuits, who had impressed ignorant and fanatical minds with the idea that no wrong was committed by killing a heretical king; that is, one who did not submit to their dictation. An effort was made to place three Jesuit fathers upon trial, so that, if found guilty, they might also be properly punished. But these fathers were bold enough to defy the Government by insisting that, as priests, they were not amenable to the civil laws of the State, even for felonious acts, but could only be tried by an ecclesiastic tribunal under the jurisdiction of the pope. The king and Pombal could easily see that this defiance of Government authority over the temporal affairs of the kingdom could not be submitted to without bringing the State into disgrace and endangering its existence. Hence, as a measure absolutely essential to the life of the nation, the king “issued a decree of banishment against the Jesuits as traitors, rebels, enemies to, and aggressors on, his person, his States, and the public peace and the general good of the people.”’ The Jesuits were then seized, transported to the States of the Church under the jurisdiction of Clement XIII, and the three accused _ fathers were placed in prison to await his action. The pope defended the Jesuits, and threatened the King of Portugal with his vengeance if he did not revoke his decree against them. But the king could not submit to interference with the temporal affairs of his kingdom even by the pope, who, by his approval of the Jesuits, had shown himself willing to see the Governments humiliated by them. He, accordingly, withdrew the Portuguese ambassador from the court of Rome, and proceeded against the three Jesuits, who had remained in prison under suspicion of having planned the attack upon his life. The chief one of these was turned over to the Dominicans—”“ the natural enemies of the Jesuits ”— by whom he was burned alive, and the other two were condemned to imprisonment for life.”

The people of Europe became greatly agitated at finding in their midst so formidable an enemy to the public peace and quiet as the Jesuits. This agitation was increased by the trial of the society for the debt of Lavalette before the Parliament of Paris, which resulted, as already stated, in bringing to the light the odious principles of the Jesuit constitution, the exposure of which is represented as having produced “alarm and consternation among all classes of society.” In France the Jesuits made an effort to arrest the public indignation by procuring a decree from “ fifty bishops,” who, under the auspices of the nuncio of Clement XIII, certified that the principles of the constitution were harmless. But this adroit movement failed to produce the desired effect. The Parliament, under the lead of Choiseul, the prime minister of Louis XV, refused to permit an edict to that effect to be registered. Whereupon, the investigation into the constitution and statutes of the society was continued for some months, and resulted in the enactment of a Parliamentary decree which shows the odium then attached to the society in France. It denounced their doctrines and practices “as perverse, destructive of every principle of religion, and even of probity; as injurious to Christian morality, pernicious to civil society, seditious, dangerous to the rights of the nation, the nature of the royal power, and the safety of the persons of sovereigns; as fit to excite the greatest troubles in States, to form and maintain the most profound corruption in the hearts of men.” It would be impossible to find language more expressive; and when it is considered that it was uttered by a Parliamentary body composed only of those who maintained the faith of the Church of Rome, it may readily be supposed that the most imminent necessity called it forth. And it will excite no surprise that the same decree proceeded to provide “that the institutions of the Jesuits should forever cease to exist throughout the whole extent of the kingdom,” and that it also prohibited them from teaching in the schools, from longer recognizing the authority of their general, and from wearing a religious dress.

Clement XIII, feeling himself powerful enough to resist this decree, endeavored, as the friend of the Jesuits, to break its force by issuing a counter decree of his own. At this point it is worthy of remark that the Parliamentary decree had reference to temporal affairs, and did not, in any way, interfere with the religious faith of the Church, which the French Christians continued to maintain according to their traditions and teachings. The decree of Clement XIII, therefore, was the assertion upon his part of the pontifical right to dictate the temporal policy of France. He explicitly asserted this by affixing his papal “curse” upon all who obeyed the decree of the Parliament, and by declaring it to be “null, inefficacious, invalid, and entirely destitute of all lawful effect,” and by releasing all who had sworn to observe it from the obligation of their oaths. In the face of this pontifical mandate, however, the decree of Parliament was executed, and four thousand Jesuits were driven out of Paris. Clement XIII was incensed at this, and issued a formal bull in praise of the Jesuits and in denunciation of their opposers. “The Parliament suppressed this bull, and refused to permit it to be printed in France. The Parliament of Aix went even further, by having it “torn up by the executioner and publicly burned,” and by inviting Louis XV “to avenge himself on the court of Rome and the pope.” The King of France, however, was weak enough to suffer himself to be prevailed upon to allow a Synod of the clergy to be convened, under pretense of putting an end to “the disputes between the civil and religious powers,” as if such a thing were then possible without submission to Jesuit dictation, backed as the society was by an irritable and impracticable pope, who had vainly supposed himself powerful enough to check the tide of indignation then beating upon the Jesuits. Impressed by the opinions and policy of Clement XIII, this Synod adopted a course favorable to the Jesuits by endeavoring to change the issue, so as to conceal the real question. With the view of making it appear that the Church itself, and even Christianity, was in danger, they fulminated anathemas against the works of the French philosophers—of Bayle, of Helvetius, of Rousseau, of Voltaire, and of the Encyclopsdists—thereby furnishing arguments which have ever since done Jesuit service by misleading the unwary into the belief that Christianity and Jesuitism are of synonymous meaning, and that the destruction of the latter would be the death of the former. They, moreover, tried to favor the Jesuits by declaring “that the Church alone had the right to teach and instruct children; that it alone could judge in matters of doctrine, and fix the degree of submission which was due to them,” and that ” the civil authority could in no way go against the Canon law.” This assumption of ecclesiastical authority was intended to strengthen the papacy, and was accepted by the Jesuits as favorable to them, because the pope at that time was their friend. But the Parliament of Paris could not fail to see that, if recognized, it would place the papacy above the State, and France at the mercy of the Jesuits, at least during the pontificate of Clement XIII. It therefore declared it to be ” derogatory to the authority of the Government,” and prohibited the people from obeying it. In consequence of this Parliamentary opposition, the prelates who had shaped the course of the Synod were driven to the necessity of seeking the aid of Louis XV, so as to avenge themselves upon the enemies of the Jesuits by means of royal power. The king, who was then “ reeking from his debaucheries”—for which he found shelter in the acquiescence of the Jesuits—succeeded in obtaining an edict which annulled the decree of Parliament. Encouraged by this success, the Jesuits demanded their restoration to authority, supposing that, with the king and the pope both upon their side, they would then be able to triumph over all opposition. But their Parliamentary antagonists were not overcome so easily, and rallied sufficiently to obtain another decree against them, not less condemnatory than that which had been temporarily suspended. Meanwhile, hostility to the Jesuits was rapidly increasing throughout Europe, which incensed them the more, inasmuch as they would not abate their extreme demands, and could compromise nothing without an acknowledgment of their wrong— which they were never known to make. Spain then followed the example of Portugal, and the king, Charles III, expelled them from his dominions. Thus, at the time referred to, they were expelled from the territories of the three great Roman Catholic States—Portugal, Spain, and France.

The King of the Two Sicilies, and Ferdinand, Duke ot Parma and Placencia, also expelled them from their dominions. By common consent among these powers, the Jesuits were sent to Italy, where the pope, in return for their devotion to him, was expected to provide for their wants and to see that proper protection was afforded them. Clement XIII had resisted all these strong powers in order to defend them, and this measure was adopted in preference to an open breach with the pope, so that he might be made to realize the extent of the indignation against them. In the strong language of Cormenin—a Roman Catholic, but intensely hostile to the Jesuits—”the soil of Italy was polluted by this unclean slime which the nations had rejected, and which they had sent back to Rome, the fountain of all corruption.”

Clement XIII became indignant when he found himself unable to counteract the general prejudice existing against the Jesuits, and, with strange infatuation, allowed his passions to obtain complete mastery over him. He fulminated anathemas against the Kings of Portugal, Spain, France, the Two Sicilies, and the Duke of Parma and Placencia, and threatened them with excommunication if they did not cease their opposition to the Jesuits. He even went so far as to send papal troops against the Duke of Parma to bring him to obedience by military coercion. But the other powers were not alarmed by the sound of the pontifical thunder, and the Kings of France, Spain, Portugal, and Naples promptly pronounced against the pope, and prepared to punish him for marching an army against the Duke of Parma, whose policy towards the Jesuits was the same as their own. Even Louis XV was induced by Choiseul, his minister, to unite upon this point with the other kings. Thereupon, the King of the Two Sicilies invaded the papal province of Beneventum with an army, intending thereby to teach the pope that he was transcending his legitimate powers as head of the Church.

The bull of the pope was torn up at the courts of Portugal, Spain, and Parma, and by the Parliament of Paris. The excitement became general, and Clement XIII was awakened from his apparent sense of security by the mutterings of the storm gathering upon all sides of him. He was brought to realize, possibly for the first time, that even he, with all the powers of the Church in his hands, was unable to drive back the waves then dashing against the papacy, and threatening to engulf it. In this emergency he sought aid from Maria Theresa, the Empress of Austria, with the hope that, with the assistance of so strong a power, he could make successful resistance to those combined against the Jesuits. But the empress, having cause to complain of the treachery of the Jesuits to her, declined to comply with this request, and went a step farther by annulling one of the important papal bulls which had been published in her dominions. The clouds, already lowering over the head of Clement XIII, then thickened more rapidly than ever, and the struggling pope, finding himself everywhere deserted by the strong powers—all of which had hitherto been united in favor of the Church—became so humbled in his pride as to declare that ““he was ready to make concessions;” that is, to do something—anything—to arrest the declining fortunes of the papacy. Thus humiliated, “he implored the clemency of the sovereigns,” begging them, as we may suppose, to relax their grasp upon him on account of their veneration for the Church. But it was toolate. The impracticable demands of the Jesuits had brought on such an issue between the spiritual and the temporal powers as to leave no ground for concessions on the part of the sovereigns, so long as they were persisted in. They were bound to maintain their own temporal powers within their dominions, or else allow the Jesuits to rule over them according to their pleasure. To this they could not submit without absolute degradation. Howsoever strange it may now appear that the pope did not see this sooner, it should be regarded as creditable to him that, when he did see it, he bowed his head humbly before the pelting storm, and yielded to a necessity he could not avoid. Due credit should not be withheld from the man who does right, even at the last extremity, especially when, as in this case, after Clement XIII decided to change his course, he went to the extent of promising the sovereigns that “he would pronounce the abolition of the society in a public consistory,” and leave the Jesuits to suffer the consequences of their own folly. Having made up his mind to this, a day was appointed for the performance of the solemn act of signing the death-warrant of the Jesuits. But this postponement led to a result which had not been dreamed of—one that furnished new evidence of the capacity of the Jesuits for intrigue. During the night preceding the day appointed for the public ceremony of announcing the abolition of the Jesuits, Clement XIII was suddenly seized with convulsions, and died, leaving the act unperformed, and the Jesuits victorious. Cormenin, writing in France, where the Jesuits are better known and understood than here, records this event in these terse and expressive words: ” The Jesuits had poisoned him.”

The Jesuits do not, of course, agree to this account of the manner and circumstances of the pope’s death. They admit that it was sudden, and that it occurred at the time named; but attribute it to the intense sufferings he endured in consequence of his sympathy for them on account of their persecution, and his inability to extend further assistance to them. De Montor says he died from a sudden fit of coughing, brought on by a pulmonary disease. The Jesuits admit, however, that the Spanish and French ambassadors had presented to him memorials from their respective Governments asking for the abolition of the society, and insist that he shed tears in consequence, and expired a few days afterwards.” But the manner of his death is of no special consequence now, since it is more important for us to know that, at the time of it, he left undecided the matters
with reference to the general conduct of the Jesuits which his predecessor had directed to be investigated. His defense of the Jesuits had manifestly been the result of previous and general convictions, and not his deliberate judgment upon the actual condition of affairs with which they were connected either in India, China, Paraguay, or in European States beyond the limits of Italy’ The facts had not been sufficiently developed for final pontifical action, and therefore he acted upon impressions rather than evidence. We shall soon see that when the evidence was afterwards fully obtained, the result reached by his successor was not only fully justified, but inevitable and unavoidable.

It required three months to elect a successor to Clement XII. The cardinals were divided into two parties—one supporting the Jesuits, and the other the Governments of France, Spain, and Portugal, united in opposition to them. The former desired to subject all civil Governments to Jesuit dominion; the latter insisted that the Church and the State should each remain free and independent of the other in its own domain. After innumerable intrigues—such as are familiar to those who manipulate party conventions—the latter party triumphed by the election of Ganganelli, a Franciscan, who took the name of Clement XIV, and entered upon the pontificate in 1769. He was greatly esteemed for his virtues, and possessed a conspicuously noble character and a mind well and thoroughly disciplined. That he was a man of profound ability is abundantly shown by his letters, which have been preserved and published, and which contain many passages of exceeding eloquence and beauty.” He was far better prepared, therefore, to form intelligent and impartial conclusions upon the evidence concerning the Jesuits than Clement XIII, because, apart from his qualifications, he was not under the dominion of undue prejudices.

The sovereigns demanded of Clement XIV that the expulsion of the Jesuits from their territories should be approved, and the society entirely suppressed and abolished. Upon the other hand, the Jesuits insisted, with their accustomed superciliousness, that it was necessary to the Church and the cause of Christianity that they should be restored to public favor by his pontifical indorsement. This issue confronted him at the beginning. At first he somewhat excited the hopes of the Jesuits by the course he took against the French philosophers, and the bulls of excommunication he issued against Diderot, d’Alembert, Voltaire, Helvetius, Rousseau, Marmontel, and Holbach. This stimulated them afresh, and by their machinations created a party in France, headed by Louis XV, which demanded their return to that country. But the pope was not driven from the plain line of his duty, which required of him that the investigation already entered upon should be completed, and that the questions involved should be decided according to right and justice. This was due to the sovereigns, to the public, and especially to the Church. Cormenin says he was suspicious of being dealt with like his predecessor, and that he took the necessary precautions to guard against it, by substituting a faithful monk for the cook of the Quirinal, so as to guard against the possibility of poison. Howsoever this may have been, he persevered in his course with the couragé of a man who fears no evil when in the faithful discharge of duty. Resolved, however, not to act with undue haste, but to have all the matters brought fully before him, together with the evidence bearing upon them, he continued the investigation for the period of four years, so that when his final decision was made the world should be convinced that it was the result of calm deliberation and honest conviction. He says of himself that he “omitted no care, no pains, in order to arrive at a thorough knowledge of the origin, the progress, and the actual state of that regular order commonly called the Company of Jesus;” and Ranke, the great historian, says he “applied himself with the utmost attention to the affairs of the Jesuits;” and adds that “a commission of cardinals was formed, the arguments of both sides were deliberately considered,” before his conclusion was announced.” No greater deliberation and no more serious reflection could have been bestowed upon any question. The evidence was carefully inspected and everything duly considered. The scales were held at equipoise until the preponderance of proof caused the beam to turn against the Jesuits, when he was constrained by a sense of duty to the Church, to Christianity, to the public, and to his own conscience, to announce the result which gave peace and quiet to the nations and joy to the great body of Christians throughout Europe. This he did July 21, 1778, by issuing his celebrated bull, “Dominus ae Redemptor”—called by the Jesuits a brief—whereby he decreed “that the name of the company shall be, and is, forever extinguished and suppressed;” that “no one of them do carry their audacity so far as to impugn, combat, or even write or speak about the said suppression, or the reasons and motives of it;” and that the said bull of suppression and abolition shall “forever and to all eternity be valid, permanent, and efficacious.”

It is well to observe, before further comment upon this important papal decree, that it had the effect to increase the apprehensions with regard to the personal safety of the pope. The manner in which Clement XIII had met his death on account of the mere promise to suppress the Jesuits, was well calculated to excite the fear that the same fate might befall Clement XIV, in revenge for their actual abolition. Hence, all the avenues of approach to the pope were carefully watched, and the utmost precautions employed to guard against the possibility of poison. These were successful for about eight months, when a peasant woman was persuaded, by means of a disguise, to procure entrance into the Vatican, and offer to the pope a fig in which poison was concealed. Clement XIV was exceedingly fond of this fruit, and ate it without hesitation. The same day the first symptoms of severe illness were observed, and to these rapidly succeeded violent inflammation of the bowels. He soon became convinced that he was poisoned, and remarked: “Alas! I knew they would poison me; but I did not expect to die in so slow and cruel a manner.” His terrible sufferings continued for several months, when he died, “the poor victim says Cormenin, “of the execrable Jesuits.”

So much has been written about the manner of this pope’s death, that if it all were repeated, some would still continue to doubt about it. The Jesuits treat the foregoing account as a malicious libel, denouncing it with their usual virulence. There is this, however, to say of it, that it has some strong affirmative proof in the fact that a post-mortem examination of his body revealed the presence of poison, as was reported to his Government by the Spanish ambassador then at Rome. There are probable grounds, certainly, for believing that he was poisoned by the Jesuits, and that it was the result of their doctrine that it was not criminal, but rather the proper service of God, to assassinate their enemies. At all events, that opinion generally prevailed, and had much to do in creating the sentiment of satisfaction at the abolition of the: society. This satisfaction extended throughout all the Roman Catholic countries. There was no complaint against it except among the Jesuits themselves, because, as it was the solemn act of the pope, and consequently of the Church, even those who may not have desired it were disposed to acquiesce. It pacified the minds of the great body of Christians, because they could see that a serious and exciting cause of disturbance had been removed. And an examination of the reasons assigned by the pope will not only demonstrate this, but also that it could not have been avoided without imperiling the Church itself as well as the cause of Christianity.

We have seen how cautious Clement XIV was to examine the whole matter thoroughly, and that for this purpose he continued the investigation for four years, in addition to what had been previously done—hearing everything that could be said upon both sides, and carefully weighing all the evidence. He even went so far as to appoint a commission of five cardinals and several prelates and advocates to assist him in the examination,” all of which he would have omitted if he had been disposed to prejudice the cause of the Jesuits or to inflict unmerited injury upon them. — In so far, therefore, as his desire and intention were involved, there is not the least ground for supposing that he omitted anything essential to the discovery of the truth, or that he did not honestly desire to discover it. The Jesuit attacks upon him exhibit bad temper, but furnish no arguments. They are too vindictive to be courteous, and exhibit too much anger to be truthful. It is, therefore, only left for us of the present day to understand the reasons assigned by Clement XIV to justify his action, in order to decide intelligently between him and the Jesuits. In his statement of facts he is entitled to be regarded as veracious, not only because of his pure Christian character, but because he is fully supported by the most reliable secular history. A brief review of them will enable the reader to place a proper estimate upon the character of the Jesuits. which, from the nature of their organization, is incapable of change.

After a preliminary statement of his powers and responsibilities, he declares the Jesuits to have been accused of things “very detrimental to the peace and tranquillity of the Christian Republic,” and proceeds to enumerate the Christian sovereigns who have, from time to time, complained of them, and asserts that Pope Sixtus V had found charges against them “just and well founded.” Referring to the favor shown them by Gregory XIV, he says that, notwithstanding this, “the accusations against the society were multiplied without number, and especially with their insatiable avidity of temporal possessions.” He enumerates eleven popes, including Benedict XIV, who had “employed, without effect, all their efforts” to provide remedies against the evils they had engendered. He accuses them with opposition to “ other religious orders;” with “the great loss of souls, and great scandal of the people;” with the practice of “certain idolatrous ceremonies;” with the use of maxims which the Church had “proscribed as scandalous and manifestly contrary to good morals;” with “revolts and intestine troubles in some of the Catholic States;” and with “persecutions against the Church” in both Europe and Asia. He refers to the fact that Innocent XI had been compelled to restrain the society by “ forbidding the company to receive any more novices;” that Innocent XIII was obliged to threaten “the same punishment;” and that Benedict XIV had ordered a general visitation and investigation of all their houses in the Portuguese dominions. Alluding to the decree of Clement XIII in their favor, he says it “was rather extorted than granted”—that is, that it was obtained by undue means and influences—and that it “cwas far from bringing any comfort to the Holy See, or any advantage to the Christian Republic;” but had made the times “more difficult and tempestuous,” so that “complaints and quarrels were multiplied on every side. In some places dangerous seditions arose—tumults, discords, dissensions, scandals, which, weakening or entirely breaking the bonds of Christian charity, excited the faithful to all the rage of party hatred and enmities.” Then follows the assertion that the Kings of France, Spain, Portugal, and Sicily had “found themselves reduced to the necessity of expelling and driving from their States, kingdoms, and provinces, these very Companions of Jesus,” because “there remained no other remedy to so great evils;” and that ““ this step was necessary in order to prevent the Christians from rising one against the other, and for massacring each other in the very bosom of our common mother, the holy Church.” For these and many other reasons, and because the Christian world could not be otherwise reconciled, it was urged upon him, he said, that the Jesuits should be “absolutely abolished and suppressed.”

He then proceeded to declare that he had examined attentively and weighed carefully all the matters touching the conduct of the Jesuits; that he had invoked “the presence and inspiration of the Holy Spirit;” that, under the responsibilities of his high station, he had been compelled to reach the conclusion that they could “no longer produce those abundant fruits and those great advantages” which had been promised when the society was instituted; but that, “on the contrary, it was very difficult, not to say impossible, that the Church could recover a firm and durable peace so long as the said society subsisted.” Wherefore, for these controlling reasons, he announced that “after a mature deliberation, we do, out of our certain knowledge and the fullness of our apostolic power, swppress and abolish the said company.” And to make his decree final, complete, and absolute, so that thereafter it should not be misunderstood, he thus pronounced his pontifical judgment:

“We deprive it of all activity whatever, of its houses, schools, colleges, hospitals, lands, and, in short, every other place whatsoever, in whatever kingdom or province they may be situated. We abrogate and annul its statutes, rules, customs, decrees, and constitutions, even though confirmed by oath, and approved by the Holy See or otherwise. In like manner we annul all “and every its privileges, indults, general or particular, the tenor whereof is, and is taken to be, as fully and as amply expressed in the present Brief as if the same were inserted word for word, in whatever clauses, form, or decree, or under whatever sanction their privileges may have been conceived. We declare 4ll, and all kind of authority, the general, the provincials, the visitors, and other superiors of the said society, to be forever annulled and extinguished, of what nature soever the said society may be, as well in things spiritual as temporal.” He denies them any right to teach in colleges or schools—prohibits them from calling in question his act of suppression and abolition, and, after varying his language in every way necessary to show the inviolability of his decree, he makes this declaration: “Our will and pleasure is, that these our letters should forever and to all eternity be valid, permanent, and efficacious, have and obtain their full force and effect, and be inviolably observed by all and every whom they do or may concern, now or hereafter, in any manner whatsoever.” This solemn decree was then executed by the pope “ under the seal of the Fisherman ”—the highest emblem of Church authority.” These extracts from the celebrated decree are necessary to convey to the mind of the reader a correct idea of its character and scope. A mere statement of the fact of its issuance is insufficient for that purpose. That it was the solemn and deliberate act of Clement XIV is not denied by anybody. The Jesuits assail its author, and by that means seek to invalidate it. They boastingly assert that it was unduly obtained, contrary to the Christian sentiment of that period. Every view suggested by them is an impeachment of the integrity of the pope, upon whom they have bestowed innumerable severe and hostile censures. Those who now examine the document and the circumstances which led to it, together with the Jesuit comments upon it, and are influenced only by the desire to judge it accurately, can not withhold their surprise at the many false and mendacious representations made by them with regard to it. One of their most influential authors—seemingly insensible to the idea that even an adversary should be treated fairly—represents Clement XIV as “conscientiously opposed to the suppression of the Jesuits,” in the very face of the fact, conceded by him, that he did issue this decree in his official capacity as pope. This is an unequivocal charge that he violated his own conscience, and acted faithlessly to the Church and dishonorably as a man, by yielding to influences condemned by his judgment, and which he was too cowardly to resist. In ordinary intercourse such an accusation is highly offensive, and there is nothing to make it otherwise when made by a Jesuit against a pope—especially when he professes to believe that the latter was infallible. This same author does not seruple to charge that the Spanish ambassador “ bribed the household of the sovereign pontiff, and undertook to overpower the pope by his indomitable persistence” —as if the pope were surrounded by corrupt hirelings who were able to influence his decision, and could be overpowered upon so great and serious a question by the importunities and threats of others. And, continuing his comments in the same spirit, he asserts, upon the alleged authority of Cardinal Pacca, that after Clement XIV signed the Act of Suppression, “he dashed the document to one side, cast the pen to another, and from that moment was demented. This signature had cost the unhappy pontiff his reason! From that day he possessed it only at intervals, and fhen only to deplore his misfortunes.”

Statements of this character pertain to a low order of partisanship, and are discreditable to their authors, No facts whatsoever have ever been given, or can be, upon which to base them. Clement XIV lived until September 22, 1774, fourteen months after his decree abolishing the Jesuits. The French ambassador, Bernis, in a letter written at Rome, November 3, 1773, three months and twelve days after the decree, said: “His health is perfect, and his gayety more remarkable than usual.”” Nicolini says “all the authors are unanimous upon this point,” and quotes the historian Botta to the same effect. He retained this condition of health for eight months, when his sudden sickness gave rise, as already stated, to the belief that he had been poisoned by the Jesuits. Certainly if he had experienced any such remorse as the Jesuits allege, it would have been exhibited before that time. After his illness his faculties may have become somewhat impaired, but this was the natural result of intense physical suffering. The Jesuits represent him, when in the agony of pain, as having exclaimed, ““I have been compelled,” which they interpret to mean that he was unduly influenced by the sovereigns. They fail in this to exhibit their usual shrewdness by deriving an argument from an expression used by him when in what they say was a demented condition. If he did speak the words alleged, it is far more probable, as Nicolini suggests, that he intended to express regret that the iniquities of the Jesuits had been so enormous and so clearly established that he was compelled to suppress and abolish their society, because of the injury they had already inflicted, and would be likely to inflict in the future, upon the Church and Christianity. It should also be remarked in this connection that neither Cormenin nor De Montor, in their separate histories of the pontificate of Clement XIV, says anything about his having been demented, or about his remorse. That accusation is the fruit of Jesuit revenge.”

But we have now less to do with the motives of the pope in abolishing the society, and with the circumstances immediately attending the act, than with the act itself and its consequences. As pope, Clement XIV had the undoubted power to make and promulgate the decree. When this was done, it was accepted with satisfaction, not alone by the sovereigns who had made themselves accusers of the Jesuits, but by the great body of the European Christians. Among the latter the belief almost universally prevailed that he had thereby conferred a benefit upon the Church and the Christian world by removing a serious and disturbing evil. In the course of history no important public act has been more generally approved. This would have been the case even if but part of what is alleged in their terrible arraignment by the pope had been true. But there is every reason for believing that all the charges were fully verified by proof, and that the Christian people accepted that fact as complete justification for the abolition and absolute suppression of the society.

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