Volume 2 — Translated from Etudes Religieuses, Historiques et Littéraires, par des Pères de la Compagnie de Jésus. CHARLES II. AND HIS SON, FATHER JAMES STUART.

Of all the Stuarts who reigned over Great Britain only one, if historians can be trusted, abandoned Anglicanism and became a child of the Catholic Church. It is true that to the name of James II. that of his elder brother, Charles II., has sometimes been added; but the general opinion is that Charles had no religion whatever, and scoffed at all creeds alike. Documents, however, which have lately been brought to light, enable us to prove that both the sons of Charles I. abandoned Protestantism, and that in their persons Catholicism occupied for more than an twenty years the throne of Henry VIII.

To understand how the religion of Charles II. could remain so long an historical enigma, we must recall to mind the peculiar circumstances in which he was placed. Surrounded by fanatical sectaries, who yielded him a kind of insubordinate obedience, and kept him in continual fear of the axe by which his unfortunate father had suffered, he felt constrained to observe in public the forms of worship which he had solemnly renounced before the altar. And to this we must add another reason. Far from reforming the disorders of a licentious youth, he prolonged his excesses to the very eve of death, and his unbridled passions tended to extinguish in his naturally weak and timid soul all the energy alike of the man and of the Christian. So, though a Catholic at heart, Charles never had the courage during his whole reign to avow his sentiments. Some thought him a zealous Presbyterian; others, a devoted Anglican. Those who knew him better declared he was nothing but a bad Protestant, and for that declaration they had more reason than they supposed.

There is no question that he died in the bosom of the Church; but that he had returned to it long before he died is a fact which has only lately {578} been established. After lying for two hundred years among the dusty archives of a religious order in Rome, a remarkable correspondence has been brought to light between the sixth successor of Henry VIII. and Father Paul Oliva, the general of the Jesuits. The occasion of this singular interchange of letters between Whitehall and Rome was the presence in the Jesuit house, in the last named city, of a young novice whom all the fathers, even the general himself, believed to be a French gentleman. Charles informed Father Oliva who this young man was. By the right of paternal authority he demanded that James Stuart, the eldest of his natural sons, should be sent back to him. He wished to keep him for some time about his person, and by his assistance to instruct himself more thoroughly in the Catholic faith, and so finish the work which he had long ago commenced. After reading these letters, and penetrating the hidden thoughts and mental tortures of the conscience-stricken king, who knows his duty, and fears, yet wishes, to fulfil it; a crowned slave, bearing beneath his royal robes a yoke of iron, and sighing in vain for liberty to believe and worship after the dictates of his heart, we cannot resist the conclusion that Charles II. was neither a deist nor a waverer; he was a Catholic—a timid and a bad one, if you will but firm in his convictions.

But, you may say, a conversion such as this is not much for the Church to brag of. Here you have a prince born a heretic, and becoming a Catholic so quietly that his people know nothing about it. The Church declares that faith without works is dead. Well, it is true that Charles's life was in perpetual discord with his faith. We certainly do not propose our neophyte as a model penitent; it is enough if the reasons which led to his conversion afford his countrymen another proof of the divine origin of Catholicism. It is surely a startling circumstance that this slave to voluptuousness should turn his back upon the easy-going Anglican Church, so complacent even to the monstrous passions of Henry VIII., and choose the most inflexible of all Christian communions, the one which preferred losing her hold upon the glorious and powerful Island of Saints to conniving at adultery; which defended the innocent Catharine of Aragon against her ferocious spouse, and might, one hundred and forty years later, have protected Catharine of Portugal also had a royal caprice again attempted to displace a virtuous queen in order to raise a vicious favorite to the throne of England. This monarch, timid by nature, and surrounded by sanguinary fanatics, knew that the bare accusation of "popery" would be enough to stir up his whole kingdom against him; yet he did not hesitate to become a "papist"—he upon whom the laws conferred the title, so much coveted by his predecessors, of supreme head of the Established Church. Do we not see in this a signal triumph of God over man, of truth over falsehood?

Should it be asked why this correspondence has remained so long unpublished, we answer that it was by its nature strictly confidential. So long, too, as the Stuarts maintained their pretensions to the English crown the publication of such letters would have seriously compromised them. Then came the suppression of the society, after which it would appear that all trace of the correspondence was lost, until it was recently brought to light by the learned Father Boero. [Footnote 87] The original letters form part of a collection of autograph manuscripts of Charles II., Father Paul Oliva, Christina of Sweden, James II., the queen-mother, Henrietta of France, Catharine of Braganza, and other celebrated persons of the time. The letters of Charles are impressed with the Royal seal.

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II.

It is easy enough to mention circumstances which would naturally have prepossessed Charles in favor of the Church. In the first place, he was indebted for his life, after the defeat of Worcester, almost entirely to Catholics, who at great risk to themselves concealed him from the soldiers of Cromwell and enabled him to escape to France. In Paris he must have seen many things to influence his religious sentiments. The most profound impression, however, was made upon him by the venerable M. Olier, the founder of St. Sulpice. "God opened to him," says his biographer, the Abbé Faillon, "the English monarch's heart. In the new conferences which he had with this prince, he showed him the beauty and truth of the Catholic religion with so much grace, force, and energy that Charles II. was constrained to acknowledge afterward to one of his friends that although many distinguished persons had spoken to him about these matters, there was none of them who had enlightened him so much as M. Olier; that in his words he recognized and felt an extraordinary virtue; in fine, that he had fully satisfied him. There can be little doubt that M. Olier had persuaded the king to abjure his errors and to take the first step toward a return into the bosom of the Church; that is to say, by sending a secret abjuration to the Pope, who, as has been said above, required nothing more. For, in the first place, it was rumored all through France and England that Charles had sent to the Pope a secret abjuration; and beside, M. de Bretonvilliers, after mentioning that his majesty recognized and felt an extraordinary virtue in his conversations with M. Olier on the truth of the Catholic religion, adds these significant words: 'At present, I can say no more.' This reticence naturally leads us to infer that Charles had taken some step toward becoming a Catholic which it was not then prudent to make known."

III.

Two years after his restoration to the throne, and under the influence, probably, of the queen-mother and the queen-consort, he resolved to open with the Holy See a negotiation which he hoped might lead to the restoration of the English people to religious unity. It was necessary to proceed with the greatest caution. He chose for his envoy Sir Richard Bellings—the same to whom he afterward intrusted the most secret and delicate of his missions to the court of Louis XIV. Sir Richard set out for Italy under pretext of attending to affairs of his own; and as soon as he could do so safely, he quietly went to Rome. His first business was to ask for a cardinal's hat for Louis Stuart, duke of Richmond and Lennox, better known under the name of the Abbé d'Aubigny. He was a near relative of the king's, and had been summoned from Paris to fulfil the functions of grand almoner to Queen Catharine. Charles wished to place under his charge the affairs of the Church in Great Britain. A memoir on this subject was drawn up for Bellings by Lord Chancellor Clarendon, and copied by Clarendon's son. It is dated October 25, 1662. Each leaf is authenticated by the royal signature. A minute of the instructions given by Charles to his ambassador is preserved at Rome. It can only have been drawn up by Sir Richard himself:

"1. His majesty solicits this promotion for the advantage of his kingdom, and in order to give the Catholic party an authorized chief, intimately united with the sovereign by the ties of blood, and upon whom he can depend securely under all circumstances. The king, to quote his own words, sees in the elevation of the Abbé d'Aubigny to the cardinalship an essential condition to the good understanding which ought to exist between {580} the Pope and his majesty; he deems this a measure of the last importance for the welfare of his Roman Catholic subjects throughout his dominions.'

"2. The cardinal once appointed, his majesty engages to support him in the style which his dignity and his relationship to the sovereign demand."

The Holy Father summoned a secret congregation of cardinals to consider the matter, and also appointed a council of theologians, who were instructed to draw up their opinion in a careful report. In this document we find a careful resume of the "Benefits which the Catholics of England have received from his Britannic majesty."' They approved of the proposed appointment; but unfortunately the Abbé d'Aubigny was given to the errors of the Port Royalists, and the Pope felt compelled to refuse Charles's request. He refused, however, with so much delicacy, and gave such good reasons for the refusal, that the king, instead of breaking off intercourse with the Holy See, as he had threatened to do, ordered Bellings to proceed to the second object of his mission. This was nothing less than the conversion of the king and the reconciliation of his realms to the Roman Church.

IV.

Sir Richard was instructed to treat directly with the Holy Father, and the number of counsellors whom the Pope might call to his assistance was to be strictly limited. On the side of the English there is every reason to believe that nobody was in the secret except the king, the two queens, the envoy, and the person—whoever he may have been—who drew up the document which we shall presently have occasion to quote. Clarendon certainly knew nothing about it; he was ready to assist in the promotion of d'Aubigny; but he was a stern enemy of the Catholics, and even before Sir Richard's return we find him opposing in parliament a proposal of his sovereign's for granting liberty of conscience to dissenters.

There is no doubt that Charles II. himself made known to the Holy Father his intention of becoming a Catholic and re-establishing Catholicism as an authorized form of worship in his kingdom. There is, moreover, no doubt that Pope Alexander VII. replied to him. This is all that we can now affirm with certainty; and we should not have known even this if the king had not mentioned it incidentally in one of his letters to Father Paul Oliva.

The absence of these two letters is much to be regretted; but we have fortunately at hand a document of still greater value. This is the profession of faith presented in the name of the English monarch as the basis of a concordat:

"Proposition on the part of Charles II., king of Great Britain, for the much-to-be-desired reunion of his three kingdoms of England, Scotland, and Ireland with the apostolic and Roman see. "His majesty, the king, and all who aspire to the unity of the Catholic Church, will accept the profession of faith drawn up by Pope Pius IV. after the decisions of the Council of Trent, and with it all the other decrees respecting faith or discipline enacted either by the aforesaid council or by any other general council, as well as the decisions of the last two pontiffs in the affair of Jansenius; reserving to himself, however, as is done in France and some other places, certain special rights and certain customs which usage has sanctioned in our own particular Church. These various decrees are to be understood with the restrictions which other oecumenical councils have, prudently no doubt and after mature consideration, imposed upon them, as the aforesaid profession of faith proves. Whence it follows that, except within these limits, nothing may henceforth be imposed upon or prescribed to either the king or any of his Catholic subjects; and {581} that it shall not be imputed to them as a crime or a favoring of heresy should they have occasion to declare their mind upon matters of this sort. Under these conditions his majesty is ready to break at once with all Protestant societies and all sects separated from the Roman Church, and to withdraw from their communion. He declares his detestation in particular of the schism and deplorable heresies originated by Luther, Zwingle, Calvin, Memnon, Socinus, Browin, and other equally perverse sectaries. Better than any one else, he knows by sad experience in his own kingdom what a deluge of calamities, what revolutions, what a Babel-confusion this pretended Reformation (which might better be called a deformation) has entailed in politics as well as in religion; so much so that these three kingdoms, and especially England, are, in both secular and sacred affairs, nothing but a theatre of frightful disturbances, which hold the entire world chained with attention and dismay."

This profession of faith is followed by twenty-four "notes" or "declarations," in which the king indicates more in detail the course which he proposes to follow in his difficult task of religious restoration. The reconciliation with Rome once effected, he would grant the Protestants complete toleration. The hierarchy should be re-established as it was in the time of Henry VIII., before the schism. Parishes should be established and seminaries founded. The king also described in what manner he would arrange for the introduction of the Roman liturgy, the preaching of the divine word, the teaching of the catechism, the administration of the sacraments, the celebration of provincial synods, and the admission of the religious orders of both sexes into Great Britain; he spoke of the festivals, beside Sunday, which it would be possible to make days of obligation, and of the precautions which ought to be adopted in bringing the people back to the veneration of the saints and their relics.

It may be suggested that Charles was not sincere; but it is difficult to understand what he could have hoped to gain by these representations, made in strictest confidence to the Pope, if he did not really intend to return to the bosom of the Church and hope to bring his people with him. Lingard says that he used to feign an inclination toward Catholicism, in view of the subsidies which he received from the king of France; but we must remember that at this time it was Louis who made all the overtures and evinced all the eagerness for an alliance between the two countries, and that Charles held back. Louis XIV. was ready to pay almost any price for his neighbor's friendship, and Charles was under no necessity of periling his crown and arousing all the fanaticism of his subjects in order to obtain what Louis was so ready to give him.

Just about the time of the departure of Sir Richard Bellings for Italy Charles made an attempt to obtain from parliament an act of indulgence in favor of the Presbyterians, Independents, and Roman Catholics. He met with the most violent resistance, even from his own ministers. Far from carrying this equitable measure, he soon found himself compelled, by the clamors of parliament, to issue a proclamation ordering all Catholic priests to leave the country under penalty of death. Disheartened by this ignominious defeat, he seems to have rushed more madly than ever into debaucheries, and stifled the voice of conscience until a providential incident, in 1668, aroused his better feelings.

V.

About the month of April, 1668, the king received a piece of news which awakened in his heart at once remorse and hope. A natural son whom he loved tenderly—a young man of great {582} intelligence and acquirements—had abjured Protestantism and consecrated himself to God's service in the Society of Jesus. This personage, who was destined to play a part in Charles's conversion as important as it was mysterious, is not unknown to our readers alone: no memoir of the time makes any mention of him. We must go back a little way to find out who he was.

The son of Lucy Walters, the intriguing and factious Duke of Monmouth, born in 1649, is generally regarded as the first fruit of Charles's illicit amours; but this is a mistake. It was not in the Netherlands, nor in Paris, but in the isle of Jersey, that the heir to the English crown began the career of licentiousness which ultimately proved so disastrous to his reign. This little island, rich and populous, had always remained faithful to the royal house; and it was probably with the hope of obtaining succor for the royal cause that Charles, while Prince of Wales, went there in 1647. But unfortunately he encountered, under the roof of one of the most illustrious, families of Great Britain, a temptation which extinguished all his warlike ardor. The young soldier reposed in the gardens of Armida, and gave not a thought to the terrible morrow which might follow his careless sleep. [Footnote 88]

The child born of this connection, who afterward was called James Stuart, was taken, in infancy, we know not by what name, to the continent. He was educated by the best masters in France and Holland, and as he grew up manifested great quickness of intellect, together with the most estimable qualities of the heart. Charles was proud of him and loved him; but when he came to the throne he durst not publicly recognize him. He was afraid of his parliament and afraid of the factions which encompassed him. Beside, the child's mother was still living, and no doubt had obtained from the monarch a promise not to compromise the honor of her noble family by acknowledging the son until there should no longer be any danger of her being suspected as the mother. So, when the young man, then about eighteen years of age, was summoned to London in 1665, he was commanded to present himself under the name of Jacques de la Cloche du Bourg de Jersey; and though he received from his father the most unequivocal marks of affection, he soon grew tired of his false position, and begged permission to return to the continent and resume his studies. Charles reluctantly consented. He gave his son at parting a document written in French with his own hand and impressed with the royal seal, which is still preserved at the Gesù in Rome. It runs thus:

"Charles, par la grâce de Dieu Roy d'Angleterre, de France, d'Ecosse et d'Hibernie, confessons et tenons pour nostre fils naturel le sieur Jacques Stuart qui, par nostre ordre et commandement a vescu en France et auttres pays jusques à mil six cent soixante cinq où nous avons daigné prendre soin de Luy. Depuis, la même année, s'étant treuvé à Londres de nostre volonté expresse et pour raison. Luy avons commandé de vivre sous auttre nom encore, sçavoir, de la Cloche du Bourg de Jarzais. [Footnote 89] Auquel, pour raisons importantes qui regardent la paix du Royaume que nous avons toujours recherchée, deffendons de parler qu' après nostre mort [i.e., of the secret of his birth]. En ce temps, Luy soit lors permis de présenter au parlement cette nostre {583} déclaration que, de plein gré et avec équité, nous Luy donnons à sa requeste, et en sa langue, pour lui oster occasion de la monstrer à qui que ce soit pour en avoir l'interpretation.—A Wthall, le 27 de septembre 1665. Escry et signé de nostre main, et cacheté du cachet ordinaire de nos lettres sans auttre façon. L. S. CHARLES."

(TRANSLATION.)

We Charles, by the grace of God king of England, France, Scotland, and Ireland, acknowledge and hold as our natural son Sir James Stuart, who by our order and commandment has lived up to the year 1665 in France and other countries, where we have seen fit to take care of him. Thence after, on the same year, he resided in London by our express will and for good reasons, we having commanded him to live under a new name, to wit, La Cloche du Bourg de Jarzais. Whom, however, for important reasons touching the peace of the realm, whereof we are ever regardful, we forbid to speak concerning the secret of does birth until after our death. At that time be it then permitted him to present to parliament this our declaration, which of our own free will and in justice we grant him at his request and in his language, in order to remove all occasion of his exhibiting it to any one whatsoever for its better interpretation. At Whitehall, the 27th of September, 1665. Written and signed by our hand and sealed with the ordinary seal of our letters, without other fashion. L. S. CHARLES

With this acknowledgment of parentage, the young man returned to the Netherlands; but he soon reflected that in the event of his father's death the document was not likely to be of much service to him, for it mentioned no provision for his support. The English Parliament would be very apt, on one pretext or another, to refuse him any sum whatever. So he prevailed upon Charles to give him another paper, assigning to him £500 a year, "subject to the good pleasure of the next successor to the crown and of the Parliament." Coupled with this legacy were the conditions that James should live in London and remain faithful to the Anglican Church. This document, dated Feb. 7, 1667, is also preserved at the Gesù:

"Charles, by the grace of God king of England, France, Scotland, and Ireland. The Sieur James Stuart, whom we have heretofore recognized as our natural son, living under the name of La Cloche—having represented to us that, should he survive our death, he would be without means of support, if not recognized by parliament, beside other difficulties which might occur in this affair; for this reason, bending to his entreaties, we have seen good to assign him and to leave him from our domain, if such be the good pleasure of our successor to the crown and of our parliament, the sum of £500 sterling per annum. Which legacy it will not be lawful for him to enjoy, except in so far as he shall reside in London, living according to the religion of his fathers and the Anglican liturgy. At Whitehall, the 7th Feb. 1667. Written and sealed by our proper hand. L. S. CHARLES"

When the king imposed the second condition he little imagined that his son was already on the point of abandoning the Established Church; but so it was; and on the 29th of the next July he was received into the Catholic communion at Hamburg. Very soon afterward he determined to enter the Society of Jesus; but there was one great obstacle in the way. He could not be received without telling the secret of his birth, for illegitimacy was an impediment from which it was necessary to obtain a dispensation. And if he told it, with no other {584} proof to show than the two papers just cited, which it would be impossible for an Italian Jesuit to verify, who would believe him? In this perplexity he had recourse to the ex-queen Christina of Sweden, who was then at Hamburg. There was a dash of romance in the story which pleased the eccentric princess; she was well acquainted personally with Charles II., and having obtained from him a confirmation of all that James Stuart had told her, she gave the young man a letter which secured a ready belief for the account that he gave of himself at Rome. This letter, written in Latin, is also among the documents lately discovered at the Gesù:

"James Stuart, who was born in the isle of Jersey, and of his own free will assumed the name of La Cloche du Bourg, is the natural son of Charles II., king of England, and so much has been secretly confirmed to us by his Britannic majesty. Renouncing the sect of Calvin, to which his birth and education had up to this time attached him, he joined the Holy Roman Church at Hamburg July 29, 1667. In faith of which, contrary to our custom, we have written by our own hand this declaration, to the end that James Stuart can, in an extraordinary circumstance, open his conscience entirely to his confessor and receive from him the necessary counsels for the salvation of his soul. L. S. CHRISTINA ALEXANDRA."

James Stuart was accordingly received into the Society in April, 1668, under the name of Jacques de la Cloche. The inventory of his personal effects, to which the novice, according to custom, affixed his signature on entering, gives us a curious idea of the wardrobe of a king's son. Here it is: "One hat; one ecclesiastical habit and mantle; one pair of breeches and a waistcoat of black cloth; one vest trimmed with yellow fur; a sword-belt of green leather; white silk stockings; two shirts and one undershirt; one pair of linen drawers," etc.

VI.

It was on the 11th day of April, 1668, that James Stuart commenced his religious life. On the 23d of April, 1668, the Marquis de Ravigny, the French ambassador at London, sent to the court of St. Germain an account of a conversation he had just had with Charles II. The King of England had said to him: "I am very desirous of effecting a strong union with France, but I must have help; for there are many people about me who are not of that way of thinking. As to myself, I have always been so disposed, as you know better than anybody..." Charles, after having repeated these words several times, had added more than once—"Leave it to me. I will speak with you about it before many days." M. de Ravigny, whose efforts toward the political unity of the two cabinets had, up to this time, been without result, received the overture with apparent coldness. Louis XIV. was equally incredulous, and M. de Lionne replied to the representative of France in England in these terms: "The king is of the opinion that your response was exceedingly judicious, when the King of Great Britain signified his desire of making a strong alliance with him, and hinted to you to make advances. His majesty has already made so many, and has been so poorly responded to, when requested to enter into the matter, that the prudence and dignity of his majesty forbid his committing himself further. . . ."

Charles waited to receive the propositions of the court of St. Germain; but the court of St. Germain was dumb. Driven to declare himself, therefore, he renewed the assurances he had already given, and the letter of the French ambassador, bearing date of May 21, 1668, describes the interview, and closes with these significant words: "It looks as though this will {585} come to something; for this reason I most humbly beg your majesty to send further instructions."

Thus, only a few days after the humble novice of the Quirinal had assumed the robes of his order, Charles and Louis were busily engaged in cementing that family pact which broke the Triple Alliance, and delayed, for many years, the formation of that formidable coalition under which France finally succumbed. Are we too bold in suspecting something more than a simple coincidence in the simultaneousness of these two events?

Hume, in his "History of the House of Stuart," attributes the action of the English monarch to his admiration for the gaiety, wit, and elegance of the French court. Let those who will, accept this frivolous explanation! The curious conjuncture of dates, together with a vast assemblage of other facts looking in the same direction, have convinced us that the true motive of this sudden change was the religions convictions of the king. The conscience of Charles had long been troubled. Even before assuming the crown, he had resolved to introduce larger religious liberty into the realm. Baffled in all his attempts, completely, disconcerted, he learns one day that his eldest son—a mind thoroughly serious and earnest—had separated himself utterly from the errors of Protestantism, and had deliberately devoted himself to a life of prayer, of silence, and of mortification. Then Charles took heart, and convinced that he could not attain his object without the help of France, he resolutely set aside all the obstacles of national sentiment, and entered at once upon the completion of the compact. While this was pending, the British sovereign was employed, for the three months which followed the entrance of his son upon the novitiate of the Jesuits, in strengthening himself against the insurrections and the civil war to which his conversion was certain to give rise. It is not, however, by political precautions alone that heresy is made to yield to the true faith. There must also be the discreet theologian, the wise master, the spiritual guide—assistance difficult to avail one's self of when Anglican intolerance watches menacingly at the gates of all the royal palaces! Such a guide, such an instrument of the divine pity, the prince felt that he possessed to-day in the novice of St. André. Resuming the dress of a gentleman, James Stuart, known by nobody at court, might readily obtain access to the king without exciting suspicion. To him Charles would joyfully become a disciple, joyfully become a penitent; from him he could receive the necessary religious instruction and absolution for his sins. In concert with the two queens, he therefore decided to write to the father-general of the Jesuits and request the immediate return of the novice to England. The prince wrote to Rome five autograph letters, all in French; four to P. Oliva, one to his son. The different envelopes have perfectly preserved the stamp of the royal seal. It is for the reader now to determine whether the author of these pages—so truthful, so ingenuous—was, as has been a thousand times asserted, only an accomplished cheat. It is for the reader to declare whether the brother of James II. merits those odious epithets of deist and atheist with which Protestantism has so freely bespattered him, doubtless in recompense for the scorn and aversion which Charles always felt in his deepest heart for the Establishment of Henry VIII.

Scarcely five months had elapsed since James Stuart began to practise the rules of St. Ignatius, when a stranger placed in the hands of Paul Oliva, father-general of the order, the following letter:

Enclosed in the communication addressed to the father-general was a second letter of the king's, which reads as follows:

Charles II., in the letters we have just given, left his son at liberty to set out at the end of autumn or even at the winter season. Twenty-five days have not elapsed when his resolution changes. He wishes the novice at Rome to make haste to precipitate his departure. What was the cause of this serious disquietude? It was this: Queen Christina, repenting of her abdication and hating the north, resolved to seek an asylum for her remaining days in the shadow of the Vatican. Charles was informed of her intention, and at once took alarm. Christina would then witness the departure of James Stuart; entangling the inexperienced novice in a network of cunning questions, what secret could escape her? Everything would be discovered. Little by little the rumor would spread from Italy to England. Charles already saw his kingdom in revolution and himself reduced to the most grievous extremity. Such was the object of the second letter to the father-general:

TO THE REVEREND FATHER-GENERAL OF THE JESUIT FATHERS AT ROME: REVEREND FATHER,—We send, with the greatest diligence and with the greatest secresy, an express to Rome charge with two letters, one to your reverence to the end that our well-beloved son set out as soon as possible; the other to the Queen of Sweden—having commanded the messenger to await the arrival of her majesty in any Italian town through which she may pass, not wishing even that the aforesaid express should appear at your house, through fear of {591} being recognized by some of your order who are English. As he is a person of rank, we have in like manner forbidden his delaying more than one day at Rome, fearing lest he should be recognized by certain Englishmen who are at Rome. We say, then, to your reverence that, since the first letter that we wrote you, we have received trustworthy news that the Queen of Sweden returns to Rome, contrary to the anticipations which we had formed—the which has not a little embarrassed us in the matter of our salvation. This is the reason that, upon this new accident, having taken counsel with the queens, we have determined to write in haste to the Queen of Sweden, feigning to her and persuading her that our very dear and well-beloved son has represented to us that he wishes assigned to him something fixed for life, to the end that in case he should not pursue the religious calling he has commenced, being now a Catholic, he may have something to fall back upon; and that even if he should pursue it, he prays us to settle a sum of money upon him which he may dispose of according to his devotion, which petition we have granted him; but since this cannot be effected at Rome, we have ordered him to go to Paris to find certain correspondents of ours, and after that to proceed to Jersey or to Hanton, [Footnote 90] where he will receive from us forty or fifty thousand crowns in total, which may be deposited in some bank; and that we have instructed him not to tell his superior of his birth; but that he shall simply feign to your reverence that he is the son of a rich preacher, who, being deceased some time since, his mother, moved with a desire of becoming a Catholic and to give him the goods which belong to him, has written to him, and that your reverence, desirous of the salvation of this person, and of making her a Catholic, and perceiving also that he can come by his estate, has readily permitted him to go. This we have arranged in order that she shall thus believe that she alone has the secret, and will therefore not break the matter to your reverence from the friendship she bears him. Thus we counteract any suspicion she might have of your letting him come to us and of our being Catholic. But above all it is necessary that our very dear son do not wait, but that he set out as soon as possible; for, as she needs money (and so needs it that she demanded at the last Swedish diet 35,000 crowns in advance), she would embarrass him in such a way that the drama which we wish to play would come off but illy. This we have arranged touching the Queen of Sweden.

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.

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]

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.