Chapter LXI: Conclusion (6)

Your reverence will not be astonished then if this fear has led us
to dread the evils by which we are besieged; a fear all the more
lively in us, because these evils are greater and bear in their
train consequences more dangerous. Now it is a truth received
without dispute among our wisest statesmen, that of all the temporal
evils which can befal us, the proof that we are Catholic is the
greatest, since it would infallibly cause our death, and at the same
time many convulsions in our realm. Your reverence ought not,
therefore, to be astonished if we take so many precautions and if we
have judged proper to write him this second letter also, as well in
the matter of the Queen of Sweden as to supply omissions which we
made in the first, and at the same time to retract some things
contained therein--that our very dear and honored son do not present
himself to our very dear cousin the King of France, nor to our very
honored sister the Duchess of Orleans, as we advised before; but
only that he come to us, be it through France or through Paris or by
other ways, as it shall please your reverence to determine. He will
abstain during the journey from writing to the Queen of Sweden, lest
she see that those things are not carried out which, as we have
heretofore said, have been pretended to her. This we have decided
upon with the aid of the queens, fearing a discovery or some
accident.

{592}

Moreover, we pray your reverence (who are secretly acquainted, as
are her most christian majesty the queen, and our very dear sister,
Madame the Duchess of Orleans, with the warm disposition for
becoming a Catholic which we have for a long time shown),--we pray
you, nevertheless, to abstain from writing to them in any fashion
touching these matters, but to keep everything quite secret until
the providence of God has otherwise disposed of affairs.

Now as we desire, with all requisite prudence in an affair of so
great consequence to ourselves and the peace of our realm, that our
very dear and well-beloved son find everything which is necessary in
the business of our salvation made easy for him, and to avoid the
inconveniences which might spring upon this side, we have taken
counsel with the queen to this effect, that when he shall arrive
alone in London--for such is our good will and pleasure--he take
time to clothe himself, and dress himself as quickly as possible, if
he be not sufficiently well-dressed--not having been willing to do
so for fear of soiling his garments by the bad weather and muddy
roads, which soil a carriage and also all who are in it; and having
put himself in order and rendered himself presentable, let him take
occasion to address himself to the reigning queen, either when she
is dining at our palace of St. James or when her majesty shall go to
visit the queen, our very dear and honored mother. To whom, without
causing any suspicion, he will present a sealed letter in the form
of a supplication, in which he will say in a few words who he is.
Her majesty has directions from us to manage everything which is
necessary for an introduction to ourselves, with all possible
prudence, and we are assured that there shall arise no disorder nor
suspicion. He has nothing else to do but to let himself be directed
according to what shall be advised him, and we command him to
observe punctually everything we have written to him, especially
what we have put within the envelope.

In the meanwhile, we renew to your reverence the prayer which we
made to you from the first, which is, not to write us, nor to make
any response saving by the hands of our very dear and well-beloved
son, whom we order to set out from Rome as soon as possible, not
wishing that the Queen of Sweden speak to him for the aforesaid
reasons. Having departed from Rome, he will take his ease in coming
to us. We pray, however, your reverence, if this be necessary, to
move him to come as soon as possible, representing to him the need
we have of him. For we know that he has no little repugnance to
England, which we attribute to the fact of his not having been
educated there, and also of his finding himself compelled to live
there alone, so that we have never been able to induce him to live
there more than a year. And even before that year was finished, he
presented us so many reasons that we were constrained to let him go
to Holland, where he bore himself with great praise and to our great
satisfaction in the belles lettres and other studies, in which he
made admirable progress.

We believe he has too much judgment to wish to disobey us, and not
come as we desire. As soon as he comes we shall endeavor, by means
of the queens, to have him made a priest in all secresy. And if
there be anything that the bishop ordinary cannot do without
permission of His Holiness, let him not fail to provide for it, but
very secretly, so that no one shall know who he is: which will be
done if possible before he set out from Rome. Meanwhile we beseech
you, reverend father, to pray God for the queens, our realm, and
ourselves, who are
CHARLES, King of England.
At Whitehall, the 29th Aug., 1668.

Yet even these numerous and urgent recommendations did not quite pacify the timid monarch. One feature in the rule of St. Ignatius, of {593} which his queen's had just advised him, suddenly upset all his ideas. He snatches up the pen. He countermands the orders he has just given. He traces a new plan of campaign in which the clearness of exposition, the ability of conception, the facility of execution, are about on a level. This third letter, we must confess, does little credit to the geographical knowledge and above all to the courage of Charles II. In another point of view, however, it merits the attention of the reader. Precisely because of the trouble which reigns in his thoughts, we detect more than once the cry of the soul. More than at any time hitherto, the unhappy prince lets us discover the cruel anguishes which torture his conscience, and the incontestable sincerity of his desires.

TO THE REVEREND FATHER-GENERAL
OF THE JESUIT FATHERS AT ROME:

REVEREND FATHER,--We have never felt so many embarrassments, though
we have had enough of them in our life, as at present, when we wish
to think seriously of our salvation. We have but just sealed this
other letter, which we pray you to read before the one which is
open, that you may better learn our intention and the order in which
we hold to the writing. The queens have advised us and counselled us
not to press his [our son's] coming, because they wish to arrange
and bring about certain very necessary and notable precautions, to
render the arrival of our very dear and well-beloved son to England
very prudent and secret.

For this end their majesties, having found means of learning
accurately and with judgment the ways of your society regarding
those who have but recently joined them, inform us that they have
ascertained from a good source that the novices of your holy
society, not less than with others, are never sent off without some
member of the fraternity accompanying them, as much to be advised of
their actions and deportment as to render an account to the
superior--the which we admire as a very holy prudence and which can
only spring from the divine spirit with which so holy a society is
animated. But nevertheless in this matter we beseech your reverence
to dispense with this companionship in the case of our very dear
son; because we command him absolutely, in virtue of the power which
God has given us over him, to come to us by himself, partly because
this will properly accord with the letter which we have sent to the
Queen of Sweden, who should believe that he has gone alone--that is
to say, unaccompanied by any member of the fraternity; but
principally because of the dangerous inconveniences whereof we
should be constantly in fear if he came in the company of any of the
fraternity. We have already, with great secresy, pretended to some
very safe persons in a great number of the English ports, and by
ways entirely concealed, that a foreign prince, of such a carriage,
such a mien, alone by himself, is flying to us, and much more indeed
which we could not explain to your reverence without going too far
into detail. We do this, partly that if we come to be anywise
suspected of being too familiar with him (Father James Stuart) we
may have something to say to remove the suspicion.

Your reverence can see by this that if he should bring an Italian
with him who was recognizable as an Italian, be it by his accent or
otherwise, this might be the occasion of overthrowing all our
designs and of interrupting the scheme which we wish to work out in
order to come most surely to our just desires. Even in case he can
have some one other than an Italian with him, we should forbid his
bringing any one into England, of whatever nation he might be, for
many very considerable reasons, which it would take too long to
recount.

Your reverence ought not to be surprised if we are so cautious,
because we learned in the time of Cromwell {594} what misery is,
and what are the things of this world, what it is to be prudent and
to hide one's self in order to succeed in our undertaking. We doubt
not that, as our very dear and well-beloved son is young, he is far
from eager for company and conversation, and that he does not
desire to have intercourse with any one by letter or by discourse;
for we know that he does not love the court any too well. But he
must needs have patience, inasmuch as it is not reasonable that for
a pleasure so brief and of so little consequence, he should put
himself in danger of ruining all our designs. Beside, he ought to
know that when he shall put foot in our palace, he is not to
converse with any one saving with ourselves and the queen, who will
give the necessary orders in the matter. Nor will he write any
letters saving to you, reverend father, and these letters that he
shall write to you we shall despatch by an express in great secresy
to Rome, to the end that your reverence relieve us in the
necessities which may arise touching our soul.

We have made inquiries respecting the seaports nearest to Rome.
Among many which have been named to us, we recall Civita Vecchia and
Gênes. We command him, then, to go to Gênes. We have ascertained,
with all necessary prudence, that your society has at that place a
house of your order. Being then at Gênes, we wish him to seek out
some ship or English shallop, but in such wise that we do not wish
any of the fraternity to recommend him to the master nor to those
who manage the ship, not showing their acquaintanceship with him,
for very considerable reasons; but especially because these
seafaring men will repeat it all as soon as they come to port.
Moreover, we desire that he put off and lay aside his religious
robes in the house of his friends and brother Jesuits of Gênes. He
will assume them again in the same place on his return to Rome, when
we send him back to pursue there the religious life he has
commenced.

He will land then in our realm solitary and in disguise. He will
call himself everywhere he may go Henry de Rohan, which is the name
of the family of a certain French prince, a Calvinist, and very well
known and intimate with us. We are in such fear lest some accident
occur, that in these different ports we at present take cognisance,
both very secretly and with the requisite prudence, of ships which
have arrived or are due, and even so far as we can of persons, under
pretence of a zeal for the well-being of our realm, and under
pretence of maintaining the Protestant religion, to which we pretend
to be attached more than ever, although, before God, who knows the
heart, we abhor it as very false and pernicious.

Moreover, we forbid our very dear and honored son to pass through
France and by the other passages and ports which lie in that part,
for he could not bring about our intentions with sufficient secresy
sailing from that coast, and therefore we have found no place more
proper than Gênes for his embarkation. And, in the meanwhile,
awaiting his return to Rome, your reverence shall noise it abroad
that he has gone to Jersey or Hanton to see his pretended mother,
who desires to become a Catholic, as we have suggested and feigned
in that other letter, and that, to make the greater haste, he went
by sea.

This then we command him to observe, point by point, through the
authority that God has given us over him, and we promise him, on the
faith of a king, that we seek nothing else in his coming but the
salvation of our souls, his good, and that of the society to which
he has attached himself, which, sooner or later, we shall find means
to notably favor with our royal magnificence. And so far from
forbidding his pursuing his calling, both for the Catholic religion
and your society, we and the queens will urge it upon him better
than any _director_ he {595} can have. It is very true that when the
season and affairs permit us to write and make known to His Holiness
the veneration we hold him in as the vicegerent of God, we hope that
he will be too well disposed toward us to refuse him the cardinal's
hat, inasmuch as the conditions which could forbid his having this
dignity for the honor of our person and of our realm are not
fulfilled in his case, viz., residence in England, since we can send
him to dwell at Rome, as we promise, and with the royal magnificence
requisite for his birth. Nevertheless, if in time he prefer to live
according to the religious life he has commenced, we would readily
abandon what would be to the honor of our crown and of our person,
rather than to urge and procure such dignities against his will.

We have made discreet inquiries of our physician whether
sea-sickness cause any dangerous accidents to those of a feeble
constitution, who has answered us that sea-sickness never killed any
one, but on the contrary has been the means of greater health.
Nevertheless, if it be too painful for him to make one trip of it,
he shall contrive that the bark or shallop in which he sails rest
from time to time in some port. He might easily come at once to
London; but we do not wish it for good reasons. Let him land at some
other port of England, from whence he can come by land in a carriage
to London.

We once again entreat your reverence not to write to us nor to make
any reply, saving by the hand of our very dear and honored son, when
he comes to us. And, if there be a need for anything which he does
not possess in making the voyage to London, we beseech you, reverend
father, to have particular care in the matter, furnishing him with
whatever he requires, whereof he will keep account.

We firmly believe it is God who has inspired us to all these
above-mentioned ways for bringing us in secret our very honored son,
because of what he has said in his word--that when two or three are
gathered together in his name, he will be in the midst of them. For
it is exactly ourselves, and the queen, our very dear mother, and
the reigning queen, who decree all these things, not without having
invoked, first of all, the Holy Spirit. Beside that, the queens have
commanded their priests to celebrate many masses in accordance with
their intention, which is nothing other than that this affair
succeed as well as all our other projects above mentioned, which
tend not only to our good, but to that of the Roman Catholic Church
and of our realm. We are,
CHARLES, King of England.

These last two letters were a sad revelation to Father Oliva, and no doubt very much diminished the hopes which he had before conceived. However, the order was given to the novice to set out without delay.

If James Stuart could easily obey his father by departing from Rome before the arrival of Queen Christina, it was certainly more difficult for him to conform to the frequently contradictory injunctions concerning the route to be taken and the precautions to be guarded against which had been successively transmitted to him. Everything which was rational and practicable the young man respected. He set sail from Leghorn about the middle of October, a fact which we learn from a brief letter of Father Oliva to the King of England. It is of course unnecessary to explain to the reader why the father-general has dated his note from a Tuscan port rather than from the city of the Roman pontiffs at which he wrote:

SIRE,--The French gentleman who is charged with the delivery of this
letter will inform you of my utter carefulness in fulfilling the
commands of your three letters and my unlimited devotion to your
royal person. Your majesty will always see me execute with the same
promptness and the {596} same zeal everything which he shall deign
to impose on me. I shall endeavor to be such in reality as he deigns
to believe that I am; such as the confidence with which he honors me
obliges me to show myself.

I throw myself respectfully at the feet of your majesty.
Leghorn, Oct 14, 1668.

In one very important respect it was found necessary to abandon, or rather to violate, the royal programme. Charles, a perfect stranger to ecclesiastical laws, always supposed that, at his request, his son could be made priest either at Rome or in London. But James Stuart was only twenty-one years old, and was without theological studies. Even if these serious objections had not existed, it would not have been prudent to elevate to the sacred office a novice whose religious experience extended scarcely over a space of six months. Thus, despite the repugnance of the king, Henry de Rohan, as our young traveller must now be called, took as his companion a priest of the society, a Frenchman, as far as we can judge, who, disguised like himself, was presented to their Britannic majesties in the quality of a friend of the refugee prince. This wise measure, imposed by the timidity of Charles, was attended by so little inconvenience, that we shall find the monarch himself, on the occasion of his son's second voyage to England, earnestly requesting of the father-general the return of this same _religious_ whose talents and virtues he had come to appreciate.

VII.

This is not the place to describe the warmth with which Charles opened his arms to his first-born, whom he had always peculiarly cherished, nor the joy of the two pious princesses, nor the tender emotions of the youth upon whom beamed, at length, the sympathy and affection he had never known before. In the isolation of his earlier life, James Stuart had sadly felt the void which the absence of that sweetest tie on earth, the family, creates. This grief had eaten into him like a cancer, till the day when he resolved to renounce the world. When the victim has immolated himself, when he has said to flesh and blood, I will know you nevermore! behold in a royal palace, by one of the first thrones on earth, the humble novice finds again a home--venerable queens are mothers to him. His father caresses him, and, emulating the example of his brother, the Duke of York, who was also preparing to embrace Catholicism, receives the child of St. Ignatius as an angel from heaven.

But it was not for such pleasures that the young Jesuit had quitted his solitude. Guided by the wise counsels of Father Oliva, and assisted by his own studies and the able co-operation of his companion, he engaged without delay in the religious instruction of the king. Of these conferences, surrounded with so much mystery, two fragments have come down to us. One word upon the nature and upon the history of this double document.

It consists of two divisions, and is a resumé of a great theological discussion which, at once, establishes the divine authority of the Roman, and saps the foundation of the Anglican, Church. The original piece is in the French language and in the handwriting of the king. He was not, however, the author. The primitive text has disappeared, probably through fear that a paper of this nature, if it should get abroad, would furnish material proof that a sovereign of Great Britain had held communication with a "papist" priest. These pages of religious controversy Charles carefully concealed. While he lived probably no one, save the Duke of York, had any knowledge of them. After the death of Charles, James II. found these writings again, one in the private chest, the other in the cabinet of the dead monarch, and in spite of the {597} storm which they were certain to produce, he did not fear to make them public. In 1700 he presented them solemnly, as a proof of the faith which animated his brother, to the general assembly of the clergy of France convened at St. Germain-en-Laye. Of the many thousand copies which, during the reign of the last of the crowned Stuarts, were circulated on both sides of the Channel, there exists at the present day only one. The Jesuit College at Rome still possess the edition of 1685, and in addition a manuscript copy of the two papers, both bearing, as a guarantee of their perfect authenticity, the autograph signature of King James. All the English historians speak of these two celebrated writings; but only to declare that the real convictions of Charles had nothing in common with these fragments of a controversy transcribed by him they know not why.

James II. in his "Memoirs" gives us a short anecdote, which from its connection with this subject we will reproduce. One day, finding himself alone in his cabinet with the Archbishop of Canterbury, he availed himself of the opportunity to place in his hands the two papers.

"He, the archbishop, appeared surprised, and remained for a quarter of an hour without making any reply. Then he said that he had not supposed the deceased king was so learned in the matter of controversy, but he nevertheless thought the arguments could be refuted. Upon which the king begged him to make the trial, telling him that if he accomplished it by means of reasons both solid and honestly expressed, he would probably succeed in converting him to his church. The archbishop replied that it would, perhaps, be evincing a want of respect for the deceased king, should he seek to contradict him; but his majesty relied by urging on him that the hope of converting himself ought to override every other consideration. He besought him then to occupy himself at once with a refutation of these papers, and to employ his pen if he thought proper. Whatever the reason may have been, neither this authorization nor the pressing instance of my Lord Dartmouth could engage him to write, and there appeared no reply during the four years that his majesty reigned in England." [Footnote 91]

[Footnote 91: "_Vie de Jacques II., roi d'Angleterre, d'apres les
Memoirs écrite de sa Main. T. iii., p. 12. Paris, 1819_."]

Here then are these dogmatic pages, almost as unknown in our century as in the time when Charles concealed them in the most secret places in his palace. We publish them exactly as they saw the light.

FIRST WRITING.

The conversation that we had the other day will have satisfied you,
as I hope, upon the principal point, which was that Jesus Christ can
have, here upon the earth, but one church only, and I believe that
it is as clear as it is that the Scripture is printed, that this
church does not exist unless it be what is called the Roman Catholic
Church.

I believe that there is no need of your troubling yourself with
entering upon a sea of particular disputes, since the principal, and
in truth the only and simple question, consists in ascertaining
where this church is which, in the two creeds, we profess to believe
in. We declare, in the two creeds, that we believe in only one
catholic and apostolic church, and it does not belong to each
individual member to believe everything that comes into his head
according to his fancy; but it belongs to the church to whom on
earth Jesus Christ has left the power of governing us in matters of
faith, and has made these creeds to serve us as a rule.

It would be a most unreasonable thing to make laws for a country,
and then to permit the inhabitants to be the interpreters and the
judges. For then, {598} each individual would be a judge in his own
cause, and consequently, there would be no standard whereby to
distinguish justice from injustice. Can we then suppose that God has
abandoned us to such uncertainties as to give us a rule for our
conduct, and then to permit each individual to be his own judge? I
demand of every honest man if this be not the same thing as
following our own imaginations, or of making use thereof in the
interpretation of Scripture?

I could wish that some one would show me in what passage the power
of deciding upon matters of faith is given to each individual. Jesus
Christ has left this power to his Church, even for the remission of
sins, and he has left his spirit there. This power has been
exercised since his resurrection, first by the apostles in their
creed, and many years after by the Council of Nice, where the creed
was made that bears its name.

By the power which has been received of Jesus Christ, the Holy
Scripture itself was judged many years, after the apostles, in
determining which were the canonical books and which were not. If we
had the power then, I would like to know how it has come to be lost,
and by what authority men can separate themselves from this Church.
The only pretence I have ever heard advanced is because the Church
has fallen into error, interpreting the Scripture after a forced
manner and contrary to its true sense, and that it has imposed on us
articles of faith which are not authorized by the word of God. I
would like to know who is to be the judge of all this, whether it is
the whole Church whose succession has continued up to to-day without
any interruption, or is it to be the individuals who have excited
schisms for their own interest?

This is the true copy of a paper which I have found in the private
chest of the deceased king, my brother, written by his own hand.

JAMES R.

SECOND WRITING.

It is a most sad thing to see the infinite number of heresies which
have spread themselves over this nation. Each one believes himself
as competent a judge of the Scripture as the apostles themselves.
And no wonder, for that part of the nation which has most
resemblance to a church does not dare employ the true arguments
against the other sects, through fear lest they should be turned
against themselves, and they should thus find themselves confounded
by their own proper arguments. Those of the Anglican Church, as it
is called, are willing enough to be regarded as judges in matters
spiritual. They dare not, however, positively assert that their
judgment is without appeal. For it would be necessary for them to
assert that they are infallible, which they dare not pretend, or to
avow that while they decide upon in matters of conscience ought not
to be followed further than as it accords with the judgment which
each one may make in his own mind.

If Jesus Christ has left a church here on earth, and if we were all
at one time in this church, how, and by what authority, are we
separated from it? If the power of interpreting Scripture resides in
the brain of each individual, what need have you of a church or of
churchmen? Why did Jesus Christ--having given to his apostles power
to bind and to unbind on earth and in heaven--_add that he would be
with them till the end of the world?_ These words were not spoken
figuratively nor in the manner of a parable. Jesus Christ was
ascending into glory, and he left his power to his church, until the
end of the world.

For one hundred years we have known the sad effects of this
doctrine, which takes away from the church the power of judging
without appeal in matters spiritual. What country could remain at
peace if there were not a supreme judge from whom there {599} could
be no appeal? Can any justice be done where the culprits are their
own judges and interpreters of the law, equally with those who are
set on high to render justice?

It is to this condition that we are reduced in England in spiritual
affairs. For the protestants are not of the Anglican Church because
it is the true church from which there can be no appeal; but because
the discipline of this church is conformable to their present
imaginations. And as soon as it shall run counter or swerve from it,
they will embrace almost the first congregation of those whose
discipline and religion accord at that time with their opinions.
Thus, accepting this doctrine, there is no other church nor any
other interpretation of Scripture than that which each extravagant
individual shall hit upon in his brain. I would then like
exceedingly to know of all those who have seriously reflected on
these things, if the great work of our salvation ought to rest on
such a sandy foundation as this? Has Jesus Christ ever said to
secular magistrates, still less to the people--_that he will be
with them till the end of the world?_--or has he given them power of
pardoning sins? St. Paul has said in Corinthians--_We are God's
husbandry, we are God's building, we are laborers in the house of
God together with God._ This shows us who they are who labor--which
is the field, which the edifice. In the whole of this and in one of
the preceding chapters, St. Paul takes great pains to establish the
doctrine that they (that is to say, the clergy) _have the spirit of
God, without which no one can penetrate the profound mysteries of
God;_ and he concludes the chapter with this verse, _"For who hath
known the mind of the Lord that he may instruct him? But we have the
mind of Christ."_ If then we consider merely in the light of
probability and human reason the power that Jesus Christ left to his
church in the gospel, and which St. Paul explains afterward so
distinctly, we cannot believe that our Saviour has said all these
things for nothing.

I entreat you to consider, on the other hand, that those who resist
the truth, and who do not wish to submit to his church, draw their
arguments from so-called contradictions and far-fetched
interpretations, while at the same time they deny verities expressed
in clear and positive words, a thing so contrary to good faith that
it is difficult to think that they believe what they say.

Is there any other foundation of the Protestant Church if it be not
this, that should the civil magistrate judge it fit, he can summon
together such persons of the clergy, according as he believes it to
be for his interest, for the time being; and can change the form of
the church to Presbyterianism or to Independency, and finally make
it just what he pleases? Such has been the method which they have
pursued here in our so-called English Reformation, and by the same
rule and by the same authority it can be still further diversified
and changed into as many forms and figures as there are different
imaginations in the heads of men.

This is a true copy of a paper written by the hand of the late king,
my brother, which I found in his cabinet.
JAMES R.

But why, it may be asked, do we arbitrarily date from the epoch of Father James Stuart's, appearance in London these papers, otherwise without date, and which were not publicly known till seventeen years later, in 1685? Let us set forth, as briefly as possible, the arguments by which we support our position.

In the first place, we agree with the English historians that these two fragments of controversy are not from the pen of Charles II. A comparison of the rugged and often inaccurate French of his majesty with that of the present text, settles this question at once. To whom, then, must we look for the authorship? {600} They proceed from an ecclesiastic, from a theologian consulted by the King of England. The very for which they assume argues the teaching of a master. But are not these two papers the offspring of two authors, of two teachers? By no means. There is a perfect resemblance between them, a perfect consanguinity of thought and of argument. There is the same turn of mind, the same style, often the same expressions. Still further. The tenor of the two pieces, which present in an abridged and condensed form many points of doctrine, presupposes in our opinion a whole series of lessons given to the royal disciple. Observe that, at the beginning of the first resumé, we have the phrase "the principal point;" there were then secondary points. The peaceful and at the same time simple, almost familiar tone of the master on entering upon the subject, is exactly the tone of a man who is conversing neither for the first nor for the last time. "The conversation" of which he speaks had not been, you would say, the only conversation. Everything, in fact, shows that these two fragments made part of a very considerable series of religious conferences.

But could these conferences, which, as we have seen, Charles might have held in all secresy at the end of the year 1668 and at the commencement of the year 1669, have taken place at any other period of his reign? By no means. For the first eight years, the king himself is our witness, since we have only to study the terms in which he complains to Father Oliva of his lamentable state of spiritual destitution. After the departure of the two Jesuits and the conversion of the Duke of York, the Anglican hatred and bitterness did not cease to rage about the throne of the Catholic Stuarts. During this second period, the only name which stands in our way is that of Father Claude de la Colombière, who sojourned in England a little more than two years, from 1676 to 1679. Now in this unhappy time, so great was the terror which ruled Charles II. that, despite his sincere esteem for the preacher of the Duchess of York, he dared not accord him, by the very confession of Father de la Colombière, more than two or three audiences, and not one of them secret. Whence it follows that these two famous documents are very probably, we had almost said certainly, the work of Father James Stuart and of his learned companion. Beside, does not such an origin explain the almost religious care with which these arid pages of theology were guarded for nearly twenty years by a prince to whom history points as the perfect type of carelessness? They called back to him the day when, in the presence of his mother, who was no more, and who now prayed for him in heaven, under the direction of a saint whose father he was, he had made his most powerful effort to abjure odious errors; they remained in his hand as a consolation for the past, a light in the future, a pledge of pardon and of hope in the hour when, cited before him who judges kings, he should at last render a severe account for the scandals of his life and the deficiencies of his faith.

Had the difficulties which these two devout ecclesiastics were forced to encounter been merely spiritual, had it been a question of logic, history, and truth, their mission would have been a fruitful one. But in actual life events are seldom simple, and history becomes a problem of complex forces. The heart of Charles II. led him toward his God. The pleasures of court life, and a natural unwillingness to sacrifice his throne, made him hesitate, falter, invent subtleties. It happened, at this time, that a wide-spread opinion prevailed in England, which had not been without its influence on the king. A Catholic, it was claimed, could procure a dispensation from Rome, could disguise his faith without scruple, and conform himself externally, at least, to the rites of the Anglican Church. Nor was the British monarch destitute of a plausible {601} precedent. When sojourning at Paris, in the days of the Protectorate, he had promised the venerable Father Oiler to renounce Protestantism, and Alexander VII., at the urgent instance of the crownless prince, had authorized him to conceal his abjuration until his affairs took a more favorable turn. This concession was made in no absolute sense. It stopped at the limits which the divine law has fixed for kings as well as for the humblest of Christians. Unquestionably, a convert whose abrupt publication of a change of faith would subject him to grave perils ought to use prudence. But in no respect would this permission extend so far as that the disciple should be "ashamed of" his Master. In this latter case dissimulation would be a crime.

Yet, in the delicate situation in which Charles was placed, what was he to do? The French alliance remained at this moment a state secret, and was thus far without result. Much was anticipated from the war which Louis XIV. was about to wage with Holland. Amid the triumph of the confederate arms, and the glory which would redound to his own person, the English monarch hoped to discover some means of strengthening the royal power and of breaking at last the Anglican tyranny. Not one of these things, however, had reached the vantage point of a _fait accompli_; not a domestic difficulty which did not subsist in all its force. In his extremity, the unfortunate prince naturally returned to his dreams of an accommodation with the Pope, of a compromise with the law of God: and one might say that circumstances invited it. Had he not now, in the general of the Jesuits, a powerful advocate with the sovereign pontiff? His son, a novice of the fraternity of Jesus, his son, called from the bosom of Italy and so tenderly received--would he not serve in the Vatican as a guarantee for the integrity of the father? Recourse to the Holy See, so far as to ascertain the precautions which would be permitted to the King of Great Britain in order to avoid exposing himself, his family, all the Catholics of England, to the extremest dangers--such was, we think the final determination of Charles II. This conjecture, authorized by the well-known sentiments of the prince and the whole sequence of facts, is specially based on a letter which Father James Stuart will shortly bear to Rome, and which appears to us scarcely susceptible of any other interpretation. Beside, one very authentic feature in the conversion of the Duke of York, to which we shall presently allude, falls in so perfectly with our theory, that it will be exceedingly difficult, in our opinion, to find any other satisfactory explanation for the ambiguous denouement which the end of this recital affords.

There are no historical indications to guide us in ascertaining the attitude assumed by the two pious queens when the monarch arrived at this resolution. Probably the princesses partook of the illusion of the Duke of York and of most of the Catholics of the court: they placed an exaggerated hope on the powerful intervention of the King of France. Relying upon this, and on the probable complaisance of the Pope, they supported in his unhappy course the son, the husband, whose safety lay so closely to their heart.

It would do our two missionaries a cruel injustice to suppose that they saw no deeper or clearer. In so elementary a question of theology, these vigorous controversialists, whose learning and keen reasonings we have appreciated, could have had but one opinion--that of their confrère Father Symons, of whom we shall shortly speak. James Stuart, we may fearlessly affirm, fulfilled respectfully but firmly the duty of his ministry. He strove to convince his father that no pontifical letter would authorize either king or emperor to reconcile in his person what the Son of God by his divine lips had declared eternally irreconcilable, to be ashamed of him before men, and yet to find favor in his sight. Two things are certain. On {602} the one hand, the holy novice failed to convince the king; on the other, filial love, happily combined with apostolic prudence, preserved his zeal from all bitterness.

Charles persisted in seeking, through the intervention of Father Oliva, to draw from Clement IX. impossible concessions. Despite the recent fatigues of his late voyage, the young enthusiast offered to be himself the bearer of his father's despatches. The proposition was accepted, and Charles wrote these lines, upon which we have already commented, and which are unfortunately the only source from which the historian can draw a correct judgment upon the results of the secret mission completed in 1668 in the palace of the kings of England by Father J. Stuart.

TO THE REVEREND FATHER-GENERAL OF THE JESUIT FATHERS AT ROME
(intrusted to the hand of Mons. de la Cloche, Jesuit at Rome):

REVEREND FATHER,--You are too necessary for us in the position where
your merit has raised you, not to be frequently troubled by us, in
that condition where the misfortune of our birth obliges us to be.

Our very dear and honored son will tell you, on our part, all our
proceedings, and as we were perplexed in deciding upon some one who
should be our messenger once again to your reverence touching our
affairs, he represented to us the urgent desire he had of returning
himself to Rome on a secret embassy from us to you, reverend
father--which desire we have granted him, under the condition that
he come back to London as soon as he shall have had an interview
with your reverence, and obtained those things which we entreat of
you, and which our aforesaid very dear and honored son will explain
from us personally, bringing us, on his return through France, the
reverend father whom he left there.

At the request of our very dear and honored son afore-mentioned, who
has represented to us that the place where he has been received into
your fellowship is burdened heavily with debts, and that there is
need of some buildings and other things, we have arranged that your
house, in which he has been received, shall obtain from us, as soon
as possible, a notable sum for the expiation of our offences.
Waiting, if it please you, till your reverence can advise us of the
measures which you will take for its reception, which shall be
within a year. If you write to us, it will be by our very dear and
honored son, who will tell your reverence all our intentions not
intrusted to this paper. We are
Charles, King of England.
At Whitehall, London, the 18th Nov., 1668.

If it happen that our very dear and honored son be in need of anything, whatever it may be, we beseech you, reverend father, to attend to it, and we will keep an account of all.

The sense of the fourth and last letter of Charles II. to Father Oliva does not appear to us doubtful. If the royal disciple of Father Stuart had shown himself unconditionally and generously disposed to every sacrifice, what could have been this business with the Holy See which he committed to the father-general? Had no difficulty existed, the abjuration ought to have taken place without delay. For the rest, the Duke of York helps us. His illusions, his doubts, avowed by himself in his memoirs, and which very probably he shared with his brother, confirm, point by point, our conjectures upon the nature of the obstacles opposed to the self-sacrifice of the two apostles of Whitehall.

In the closing months of the year 1668, the king renewed his intercourse with his brother, toward whom he had been momentarily estranged by the intrigues of Buckingham. The author of the Life of James II. recalls this fact, and immediately after he adds:

{603}

"It was about this time (toward the commencement of the year 1669)
that his royal highness, convinced hitherto that the English was the
only true church, experienced lively compunctions of conscience and
began to reflect seriously upon his salvation. He therefore sent for
a Jesuit named Symons, who was reputed a very wise man, to the end
that he might converse with him upon this subject. When the Jesuit
made his appearance, the duke set forth his intention of becoming a
Catholic, and spoke with reference to his reconciliation with the
Church. After a long conversation, the father told him frankly that
he could not be received into the Catholic Church unless he entirely
abandoned the Anglican communion. The duke replied that, according
to the belief he had always held, this could be done by means of a
papal dispensation. He alleged the singularity of his position, and
the advantage which would inhere to the Catholic religion in
general, and especially to the Catholics of England, if by a
dispensation he could be permitted to follow externally the rites of
the Anglican Church, until an occasion offered for declaring himself
with greater safety both for his own person and for the Catholics.
But the good father insisted, saying that even the Pope himself had
no right to grant such a dispensation, seeing that it was the
unalterable doctrine of the Catholic Church never to do evil that
good might come. The duke having written upon this subject to the
Pope, received from the Holy Father confirmation of what the good
Jesuit had told him. Up to this time his royal highness had always
thought, following the opinion or at least the expressed words of
the Anglican theologians, that dispensations of this kind were
readily accorded by the Pope; but the remarks of Fr. Symons and the
letter of His Holiness caused the duke to conclude that it was high
time to make every effort to obtain liberty to declare himself, that
he might no longer live in the embarrassing and perilous situation
in which he then was." [Footnote 92]

[Footnote 92: "The Life of James the Second, etc., vol. i., p.
440-441. London, 1816. Quarto." (After several attempts to find
this work, the translator has been compelled to rely on the French
version.--ED. C.W.)]

What relation does this historical passage bear to the sojourn of Father Stuart in London? Notice, in the first place, that the date, "at the commencement of the year 1669," cannot be taken literally. We shall find mention, a few lines further on, of a secret council held Jan. 25, in reference to "a declaration of their Catholicism;" the Duke of York being already converted, and the king almost decided to take, like his brother, the last step. Now let us suppose that, on the 1st of Jan., the duke, hitherto a staunch Anglican, "experienced lively compunctions of conscience." With his characteristic caution, he studies into the matter, and finally comes at the truth. Then occurs his interview with Fr. Symons; next he writes to the Pope. The Pope sends his decision. The prince is startled, makes an irrevocable resolution, and thus on the twenty-fifth day of the same month we find him deliberating with Charles II. and three of his ministers upon the political measures necessary to empower them both to practise freely the religion of their choice! A promptness certainly very strange and inexplicable even in this day of express trains and telegraph wires! Evidently the supposition is impossible, and the expressions of the writer must be interpreted very broadly. Glancing back, it will be observed that these events followed closely upon the reconciliation of the two brothers, which occurred, as the English historians inform us, toward the end of 1668, during the autumn when Henrietta of France, the queen-mother, came to England in order to bid her children a final adieu.

If now we confront the whole series of Father Stuart's proceedings in London with the circumstances attending the Duke of York's conversion, these {604} two categories of facts, separate in appearance, unite and coalesce so naturally that it will be almost impossible not to recognize their intimate correlation, or, so to speak, their perfect identity.

Setting out from Leghorn Oct 14, the son of Charles II. after a voyage of twenty-fire or twenty-six days, arrives in the Thames about Nov. 1, O.S. Henrietta of Bourbon, not less jealous for the salvation of her second son than for that of the king, hastens to put the Duke of York in communication with Father James Stuart and the eminent ecclesiastic who accompanied him. Our two apostles divide their days between Charles and his brother. It is in their school that the prince received those strong lessons which in the short space of twenty days overturned and created anew the entire structure of his belief. It was from them that he heard with surprise that the pretended papal permissions were only a ridiculous fable, and that the profession of the Catholic faith obliged him to sacrifice everything, to suffer everything, for the eternal life. Situated as James then was, this declaration was of startling import. It affected his hopes of the crown, his family, his entire future. At this juncture he consults with Fr. Symons; and, still dissatisfied, he resolves to appeal to the Pope. Our argument now takes form; it speaks to the eye. Suppose that the courier of the Duke of York spent twenty-six days each way in his journey to Rome, and remained only eight in that city; to have returned to London six or seven days before the council of Jan. 25, he would have had to quit England the 19th or 20th of Nov. And these are the very dates for the departure of the novice of St. Andrew, upon the close of the conferences, and for his return to the capital of Great Britain after his journey to Italy!

Consider the subject in another light. According to every English historian, the facts relative to the conversion of the Duke of York have their extreme limits in Nov. 1, 1668, and Jan. 25, 1669. They cannot be fixed earlier, nor later. But these are the precise points at which the apostolic mission of Father Stuart at the court of Whitehall commences and ends. Examine this in detail, measure the time necessary to instruct and convert a heretic, to carry a message to Rome, to confer with the Pope, to return to London--there is not a feature which does not present a coincidence almost mathematical.

The novice of St. Andrew left behind him in France the priest whose co-operation had been so useful, and on his return to Rome he made known to the father-general the results of his apostolic labors at the court of the Stuarts. What impression did the royal letter produce upon Father Oliva? It would not be surprising if he thought that he discovered, what many readers will perhaps have felt, in these brief lines, a reserve, a constraint, in perfect contrast with the joy of a soul that has found, after long and sad errors, the Way, the Truth, and the Life.