no virtue. Whoever will follow out in idea these conditions will feel that wisdom and virtue, strength of purpose, self-respect, and respect for others (apart from which love is not possible) can no longer be conceived of after we have rejected from our conception of human nature all power of seclusion and concealment, and have thoroughly denuded the individual mind and heart. Man, created as he was in the likeness of God, bears upon his very front no ambiguous indication of his participation in that perfection of the Divine nature which surrounds it with " clouds and darkness.” “None by searching can find out God," or "know his mind,” for "He giveth no account of any of His matters." He still"hideth himself," even in the heavens where his glory is manifested. And so, while endeavouring distinctly to conceive of any order of beings, we wholly fail to associate with such a conception the idea of personal virtue, until we have admitted the idea of individual inviolability: Virtue will have her vesture. That this power of concealment is in fact of primary importance, as the ground or support of individual responsibility, may well be inferred from the fact that, in the constitution of man, it has been guarded with the utmost care. How terrific an illustration of that sacred inviolability with which the Creator has endowed human nature do we obtain, when mechanic ingenuity is seen to be exhausting in vain its last devices of torture at the bidding of tyranny, only to break up by force this power of reserve, and to violate this inviolability! Blood oozes from every vein the sinews crack the marrow of the bones drops from the fingers' ends, sooner than the secrets of a firmly constructed soul can be wrenched from the bosom! The quivering lips emit involuntary groans; but they do not belie that awful truth of the moral system- That God's own hand has sealed man's individuality, by con

ferring upon him this strength of the will! Can it then be a light matter to fret away, by little and little, this covering of the soul, which is the fence of virtue, and its necessary condition, and which the Creator has planted so deep in the recesses of our nature?

That which despotism attempts to accomplish by the anguish of the rack, a perverted and vicious ingenuity has sought to achieve by its sinister procedures.

If love be the perfection of virtue, or if virtue be love universal, then is it certain that, if by any means an entire exposure of the inmost soul could be effected, such as would rend away the last reserve of self-esteem, then virtue would be possible no more. Even an approach toward such a denuding of the heart, and toward such an abandonment of individuality, is felt to be prejudicial to the purest affections. Those who are well skilled in human nature do not need to be told this; for they are conscious of it as by a sort of intuition. Love is the communing of two spirits, or it is such an intertwining of natures as that while the branches, the foliage, and the clusters appear all as one mass, yet each plant has its own stem, and its own root; and the root of each must draw its nourishment from a depth beneath, and apart from the other. It is the weakly-fond, it is not the wise, who would push the revealing of hearts beyond all limit. It is a diseased prurience, not a virtuous ingenuousness, which shows itself impatient of all concealment. A mind that has been violated by the prurience, or by the tyranny of another, feels that it has lost, and perhaps has lost irrecoverably, its contractile force: henceforward individual purposes, and resolves, and energy, and the calm consciousness of strength, are gone! Now the Romish practice of Confession, whatever evils may attend it, does not in any such manner violate the inner principle of the moral nature. Con

fession may indeed, and it should, suffuse the cheek with crimson; but this Jesuit practice of the manifestation of the conscience, which leaves nothing unrevealed, spreads over the visage the palidness of despair. Shame that is to say a virtuous shame the shame whence reformation might take its rise, springs from a painful consciousness of the contrast which the penitent's own confession has presented to the eye of another, between that outside of virtue which personal reserve has hitherto maintained, and the delinquency which has now been disclosed. But if all reserve has been abandoned, shame can have place no more for there can now be no contrast — no confusion of face — no humbling of pride; henceforth there is room only for sullen despondency, for self-contempt, or for immoveable apathy!

If it be said that the wisdom or expediency of any practice that is called in question must be judged of, not on grounds of abstract reasoning, but by paying regard to certain purposes that are in view, and that these purposes may be of so extraordinary a kind, or may be at once of such difficulty and of such importance as to warrant what otherwise must be regarded as vicious and unwarrantable; if this be said, then a further question presents itself; and it must be asked, What these extraordinary purposes are which might be alleged as proper and sufficient for justifying the vast apparatus of spiritual tyranny which the Jesuit Institute puts in movement.

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CHAPTER IV.

THE PURPORT OF THE JESUIT INSTITUTE.

WHAT, then, are the professed intentions of the Society of Jesus? And what are those labours which it undertakes? And of what kind are the preparations which it makes for achieving its avowed purposes? Is there a manifest adaptation of such means to the accomplishment of such ends; and are the means duly proportioned to the ends?

These queries are plainly reasonable, nor should they be dismissed until they have been disposed of in a manner that is free from ambiguity.

A passage lately cited, p. 291., may well be referred to as a fair sample of the style in which the founders of the Society declare their motives, and set forth the ends and purposes toward which all their labours are directed, and within the compass of which this mass of rules and enactments - this thousand and more of carefully digested regulations, find their reason. Scarcely a chapter or a page of the Constitutions is wanting in similar protestations of the highest and the purest religious motives, as the sole incentives of action that are recognised by the Society.

Let then these professions be accepted as genuine, and as ingenuous; that is to say, as being clear of all suspicion of mental reservation. But if so, then the

avowal of purposes, as well as the profession of motives, must be taken as an entire or comprehensive avowal. This should be clearly understood. If we give credence to the Society while declaring that it is animated by no motive of secular ambition, and that it is warmed solely by the love of God in "Christ Jesus the Lord,” then must we also regard it as certain that, when the Society specifies the labours and duties to which its members are to devote themselves, nothing remains behind—nothing —no offices are silently thought of— no functions are held in prospect of which no mention is made.

But it must be granted, that if the avowal of purposes be found to be incomplete or disingenuous, then the profession of motives will, at the same time, have forfeited all claim to our confidence; and in that case the "Society of Jesus" will seem to have come into full and rightful possession of its vulgar reputation. Thenceforward no injustice will be done to Jesuitism when, without qualifying the term, we employ it as an epithet, carrying its conventional meaning, all the world over, and call it - JESUITISM.

The Founders of the Society first make a profession, as we have said, of their motives. They then spread before us the means they have devised, and the preparations they have made for effecting a great work, at the impulse of such motives, and in harmony therewith. Vast are these means mighty is this preparation! No such scheme, none so elaborate, so exactly balanced, so highly finished, has the world ever seen. No other system has so carefully selected its agents, or has subjected them to so severe a training. Nothing would this scheme seem to want, either in amplitude, or in elaboration, or in a profoundly calculated adaptation to the shifting occasions of this world's affairs, if indeed its ulterior purpose were to grasp, to bind, and to serve it