John Inglesant: A Romance (Volume 2 of 2)

by J. H. Shorthouse

  *CHAPTER XVII.*

  After the narration of the events just detailed the papers from whichthe life of Mr. Inglesant has hitherto been compiled become much lessminute and personal in character; and when the narrative is resumed, aconsiderable period of time has evidently elapsed. It is stated thatsome time after the death of his wife Mr. Inglesant returned to Rome,and assumed a novice's gown in some religious order, but to which of thereligious bodies he attached himself is doubtful. It might be thoughtthat he would naturally become a member of the Society of Jesus; butthere is reason to conclude that the rule which he intended to embracewas either that of the Benedictines or the Carmelites. As will soonappear, he proceeded no farther than the noviciate, and this uncertaintytherefore is of little consequence.

  It must be supposed that the distress caused by the death of his wifeand child, and by his absence from them at the last, was one motivewhich caused Inglesant to seek in Rome spiritual comfort andcompanionship from the Spanish priest Molinos, in whose society he hadbefore found so much support and relief. It was thought, indeed, bymany beside Inglesant, amid the excitement which the spread of themethod of devotion taught by this man had caused, that a dawn of purerlight was breaking over spiritual Rome. God seemed to have revealedHimself to thousands in such a fashion as to make their past lives andworship seem profitless and unfruitful before the brightness and peacethat was revealed; and the lords of His heritage seemed for a time to bewilling that this light should shine. It appeared for a moment as ifChristendom were about to throw off its shackles, its infant swaddlingclothes, in which it had been so long wrapped, and, acknowledging thatthe childhood of the Church was past, stand forth before God with herchildren around her, no longer distrusted and enslaved, but eachindividually complete, fellow-citizens with their mother of thehousehold of God. The unsatisfactory rotation of formal penitence andsinful lapse, of wearisome devotion and stale pleasures, had given placeto an enthusiasm which believed that, instead of ceremonies and bowingin outer courts, the soul was introduced into heavenly places, and sawGod face to face. A wonderful experience, in exchange for lifelessformality and rule, of communion with the Lord, with nothing before thebeliever, as he knelt at the altar, save the Lord Himself, day by day,unshackled by penance and confession as heretofore. Thousands of thebest natures in Rome attached themselves to this method; it was approvedby a Jesuit Father, the Pope was known to countenance it, and hisnephews were among its followers. The bishops were mostly in favour ofit, and in the nunneries of Rome the directors and confessors werepreaching it; and the nuns, instead of passing their time over theirbeads and "Hours," were much alone, engaged in the exercise of mentalprayer.

  It would indeed be difficult to estimate the change that would havepassed over Europe if this one rule of necessary confession before everycommunion had been relaxed; and in the hope that some increased freedomof religious thought would be secured, many adopted the new method whohad no great attachment to the doctrine, nor to the undoubtedextravagances which the Quietists, in common with other mystics, wereoccasionally guilty of, both in word and deed. It cannot be denied, andit is the plea that will be urged in defence of the action of theJesuits, that freedom of thought as well as of devotion was the motiveof numbers who followed the teaching of Molinos. That free speculationand individual growth could be combined with loyalty to acts andceremonies, hallowed by centuries of recollection and of past devotion,was a prospect sufficiently attractive to many select natures. Some, nodoubt, entered into this cause from less exalted motives--a love of fameand a desire to form a party, and to be at the head of a number offollowers; but even among those whose intentions were not so lofty andspiritual as those of Molinos probably were, by far the greater numberwere actuated by a desire to promote freedom of thought and of worshipamong Churchmen.

  But it was only for a moment that this bright prospect opened to theChurch.

  The Jesuits and Benedictines began to be alarmed. Molinos hadendeavoured to allay the suspicion attached to his teaching, anddiminish the aversion that the Jesuits felt towards him, by calling hisbook "The Spiritual Guide," and by constantly enjoining the necessity ofbeing in all things under the direction of a religious person; but thiswas felt to point more at the submission to general council than tocoming always to the priest, as to the minister of the sacrament ofpenance, before every communion; especially as Molinos taught that theonly necessary qualification for receiving was the being free frommortal sin.

  Suddenly, when the reputation of this new society appeared to be at itsheight, Molinos was arrested, and Father Esparsa, the Jesuit whoseapprobation had appeared before "The Spiritual Guide," disappeared.What became of the latter was not known, but it was generally supposedthat he was "shut up between four walls;" and at any rate he appeared nomore in Rome. In the midst of the excitement consequent on these eventsseventy more persons, all of the highest rank,--Count Vespiniani and hislady, the Confessor of Prince Borghese, Father Appiani of the Jesuits,and others equally well-known,--were arrested in one day, and before themonth was over more than two hundred persons crowded the prisons of theInquisition.

  The consternation was excessive, when a method of devotion which hadbeen extolled throughout Italy for the highest sanctity to which mortalscould aspire was suddenly found to be heretical, and the chief promotersof it hurried from their homes and from their friends, shut up inprison, and in peril of perpetual confinement, if not death. The arrestof Father Appiani was the most surprising. He was accounted the mostlearned priest in the Roman College, and was arrested on a Sunday inApril as he came from preaching. After this no one could guess on whomthe blow would fall next. The Pope himself, it was reported, had beenexamined by the Jesuits. The imminence of the peril brought strengthwith it. The prisoners, it was whispered, were steady and resolute, andshowed more learning than their examiners. Their friends who were stillat large, recovering from their first panic, assumed a bold front. Manyletters were written to the Inquisitors, advising them to consider wellwhat they did to their prisoners, and assuring them that their interestswould be maintained even at the cost of life. Nor did these protestsend here. As soon as possible after the arrests a meeting was held atDon Agostino's palace in the Piazza Colonna, to which ladies weresummoned as well as men. There, in a magnificent saloon, amid gildingand painting and tapestry, whose splendour was subdued by softenedcolour and shaded light, were met the elite of Rome. There were ladiesin rich attire, yet in whose countenances was seen that refinement ofbeauty which only religion and a holy life can give--ladies, who, whileappearing in public in the rank which belonged to them, were capable inprivate of every self-denial, trained in the practice of devotion andacts of mercy. There were nuns of the Conception and of the Palestrina,distressed and mortified at being compelled to return to their beads andto their other abandoned forms. There were present Cereri,Cardinal-Bishop of Como; Cardinals Carpegna and Cigolini, and CardinalHoward of England (the noblest and most spiritually-minded of the SacredCollege), Absolini and Coloredi, Cardinals and Fathers of the Oratory,and Cardinal D'Estrees. Petrucci himself, the most prominent advocate ofthe Quietist doctrine, was in the room, though incognito, it not beinggenerally known that he was in Rome. There were present many Fathers ofthe Oratory, men of intellect, refinement, and blameless lives; DonLivio, Duke di Ceri, the Pope's nephew was there, and the PrinceSavelli, many of the highest nobility, and above a hundred gentlemen,all of whom, by their presence, might be supposed to prove theirattachment to the teaching of Molinos, their superiority to the sordidmotives of worldly prudence and pleasure, and their devotion tospiritual instincts and desires. It would be difficult to imaginescenes more unlike each other; yet, strange as it may appear, it wasnevertheless true that this brilliant company, attired in the height ofthe existing mode, sparkling with jewels and enriched with chastenedcolour, might not unfitly be considered the successor of those hiddenmeetings of a few slaves in Nero's household, who first, in thatwonderful city, beli
eved in the crucified Nazarene.

  The addresses were commenced by the Duke di Ceri, who spoke of the griefcaused by the arrest of their friends, and of the exertions that hadbeen made on their behalf. He was followed by other of the great noblesand cardinals, who all spoke in the same strain. All these speecheswere delivered in somewhat vague and guarded terms, and as one afteranother of the speakers sat down, a sense of incompleteness anddissatisfaction seemed to steal over the assembly, as though it weredisappointed of something it most longed to hear. The meeting wasassured, over and over again, that extreme measures would not be takenagainst those in prison; that their high rank and powerful connectionswould save them; the Duke di Ceri had expressly said that he believedhis relation and servant, Count Vespiniani, and his lady would soon bereleased. The fact was, though the Duke did not choose, to state itpublicly, that they had been proscribed solely from information gainedat the confessional; and this having been much talked of, the Jesuitshad resolved, rather than bring any further odium on the sacrament ofconfession, to discharge both the lady and her husband at once. But,though all this might be true, there was something that remainedunsaid--something that was filling all hearts.

  What was to be the spiritual future of those assembled? Was this gate ofParadise and the Divine Life to be for ever closed, and was earth andall its littleness once more to be pressed upon them without denial, andhypocrisy and the petty details of a formal service once more to be theonly spiritual food of their souls? Must they, if they resolved toescape this spiritual death, quit this land and this glorious Church,and seek, in cold and distant lands, and alien Churches, the freedomdenied by the tyranny of the leaders of their own? These thoughtsfilled all minds, and yet none had given them utterance, nor was itsurprising that it should be so. Select and splendid as that assemblywas, no one knew for certain that his neighbour was not a spy. As wasknown soon after, Cardinal D'Estrees, who sat there so calm andlofty-looking, furnished the principal evidence against Molinos,swearing that, being his intimate friend, he knew that the real meaningof his friend's printed words was that heretical one of which, in fact,Molinos had never dreamt. It was no wonder that the speeches werecautious and vague.

  At last Don Agostino rose, and in a quiet and unaffected tone, requesteda hearing for his very dear friend, the Cavaliere di San Georgio, onewell known to most of them, whose character was known to all.

  A murmur of satisfaction ran through the room, and the audience settleditself down to listen, as though they knew that the real business of theday was about to begin. Inglesant rose in his seat immediately behindhis host. He was evidently dressed carefully, with a view to the effectto be produced upon a fastidious and ultra-refined assembly. He wore acassock of silk, and the gown of a Benedictine made of the finest cloth.His head was tonsured, and his hair cut short. He had round his neck aband of fine cambric, and at his wrists ruffles of rich lace; and hewore on his hand a diamond of great value. He had, indeed, to one whosaw his dress and not his face, entirely the look of a petit-maitre, andeven--what is more contemptible still--of a petit-maitre priest; yet, ashe rose in his seat, there was not a man in all that assembly who wouldhave given a silver scudo for the chances of his life.

  His romantic and melancholy story, the death of his wife and child, hisassumption of the religious life, and, above all, his friendship withMolinos, were known to all; it seemed to many a fitting close to a lifeof such vicissitude, that at this crisis he should sacrifice himself inthe spiritual cause that was dear to all.

  He had his speech written before him, every word carefully consideredand arranged by himself and some of the first masters of style then inRome. He began deliberately and distinctly, so that every word washeard, though he spoke in a low voice.

  After deprecating the judgment of the assembly upon the artless andunpolished words he was about to address to it, and excusing hisrashness in consenting to speak in such an assembly at all, he said,--

  "The words of the noble and august personages who have already spokenhave left me little to say. Nothing is necessary to be added to theirwise and reverend advice. All that remains for us to do is to attemptto carry out in action what they have so well counselled. Our firstobject, our first duty, is the safety of our friends. But, when this ishappily accomplished--as, under such leaders and protected by suchnames, how can we doubt that it will be?--there are many among us who,with sinking hearts and hushed voices, are inquiring, 'What will comenext?'"

  He paused, and looked up for a moment, and a murmur of encouragement ranthrough the room.

  "I am not mistaken when I say that in this room, and also in Rome, aremany hearts which, within the last few years, and by the teaching of himfor whom night and day the prayers of the Church ascend to heaven, havefound a peace and a blessedness before unknown; many who have breathedcelestial air, and walked the streets of God. Nor am I mistaken--myheart and your presence tell me I am not mistaken--when I say that manyare asking themselves, 'How can they renounce this heavenly birthright?How can they live without this Divine intercourse, which they have foundso sweet--which the purest saints have hallowed with their approval?How can they live without God who have seen Him face to face?' And manyare asking themselves, 'Must we leave the walks of men, and the Churcheswhere the saints repose, and wander into the wilderness--into bywaysamong the wild places of heresy, since the Church seems to close thegates upon this way which is their life?' I risk the deserved censureof this august assembly when I venture to advise--yet even this I amwilling to do, if I may serve any--and I venture to advise, No. Imyself was born in another country, amid contending forms of faith. Ibelieve that, in the sacrificial worship of our most Holy Church, roomis amply given for the perfection of the Contemplative State; and thatsuch lofty devotion can find no fitter scene than the altar of the Lord.As we may hope that, at some future time, the whole Church may come tothis holy state, and be raised above many things which, though nowperhaps necessary, may in a higher condition fall away; so, if by ourcontinuing in this posture we may hasten such a happy time, thisdoubtless will be the path Heaven wishes us to walk in. But"--hepaused, and the whole assembly listened with breathless attention--"ifsuch is to be our course, it is evident that an understanding isnecessary of adjustment between ourselves and the Fathers of the HolyOffice and of the Society of Jesus--an adjustment by which a silencemust be allowed our Faith--a silence which, for the sake of thoseamongst us whose consciences are the most refined and heaven-taught,must be understood to imply dissent to much that has lately been actedand taught. We must understand that this exertion of authority is aimedonly at the open teaching of doctrines in which we still believe, andwhich are still dear to us; and that liberty is allowed our faith solong as we observe a discreet silence--a liberty which shall extend asfar as to admission to the Sacrament without previous confession. Onthis point surely it is necessary that we have a clearer understanding."

  Inglesant stopped, and applause, sufficiently loud and unmistakablysincere, showed that a large proportion of the assembly approved of whathad been said.

  He spoke a word to Don Agostino, and then went on,--

  "I am willing to confess, and this august assembly will be willing toconfess, that to the rulers of Christ's ark--those who have to answerfor the guidance of the peoples of the world, and who know far betterthan we can the difficulties and dangers which environ such a task--thisallowance to the lower masses of the people, so prone to run to extremesand to err in excess, would seem unwise; and I am not unwilling also toadmit that we may have erred in making this way too public, before theworld was sufficiently prepared for it. Both for this, and for anyother fault, we are willing to suffer penance, and to submit to the HolyChurch in silence; but, this acknowledged and performed, we must beallowed, within certain limits, to retain the freedom we have enjoyed,and some manifest token must be given us that such will be the case."

  A singular murmur again filled the room--a murmur compounded of intensesympathy and of admiration at t
he boldness of the speaker.

  Inglesant went on.

  "But you will ask me, how is this to be obtained? I am allowed to saythat I have not undertaken the mission save at the request of otherswhom it well becomes to direct my service in all things. They considerthat for some reason I am fitted for the task. I am--and I speak withall gratitude--a pupil of the reverend and holy Society of Jesus, andwhatever I possess I owe to its nursing care. I am besides, though Ihave never acted in such capacity, still an accredited agent of theQueen Mother of England, that most faithful daughter--I had almost saidMartyr--of the Church. I will see the General of the Order, and if thisassembly will allow me to speak in its name, I will offer to him ourdutiful submission if he, on his part, will give us some public signthat we are allowed our private interpretation upon the late events, andour liberty upon the point which I have named."

  When Inglesant sat down Cardinal Howard spoke. He was followed byseveral others, all of whom complimented the Cavaliere upon his devotionto so good a cause; but abstained from expressing any decided opinion onthe expediency of his proposal. But when two or three speeches had beenmade, the mixed character of the assembly began to show itself. It istrue that it had been carefully selected, yet, in order to give itimportance and influence, it had been necessary to include in theinvitations as many as possible, and the result was soon apparent.There were many present who had joined the ranks of the Quietists morefrom a weariness of the existing order than from sincere devotion.There were many present who had joined them sincerely, but who, fromtimidity and caution, were desirous to escape the anger of theInquisition by submission and silence, and who deprecated any risk ofexciting a still more harsh exertion of authority. Both these parties,increased by waverers from the more devoted portion of the company,united in advising that no action should be taken, farther than thatwhich had been already used, and which, it might be hoped, had securedthe principal object of their wishes, the release of their friends.

  They argued that confession before each communion could not beburdensome to those who were in a state of grace, and therefore hadnothing to confess; and even if it were, as the Fathers of the Churchjudged it necessary for the suppression of error, and for the good ofthe ignorant and unenlightened, it ought to be submitted to mostwillingly by those farthest advanced in the spiritual life. Thesespeakers also argued that many things which were held by the Quietistsharmlessly to themselves were liable to be misunderstood, and thatanything which tended to draw off the mind from the mystery of theSacrifice of the Mass, or from the examples of the saints, tended todivert the vulgar from devotion to the Saviour, and savoured of Deism.

  They argued that although perhaps many things were unnecessary to thosewhose religious life was far advanced, such as the breviary, beads,images, many prayers, etc., yet it was not so to others, and that nodoubt, where it was suitable, relaxation would be easily obtained fromone's director. No one had insisted more upon the necessity of aspiritual guide than had Molinos, and it was now the time to prove thereality of our obedience to the voice of the Church.

  It was argued that many things in Molinos's writings seemed to tendtowards Calvinism, and the doctrine of Efficacious Grace, which no onepresent--no true child of the Church--could defend,--a doctrine whichlimited the Grace of God, and turned the free and wide pastures ofCatholicism into the narrow bounds of a restricted sect; and it wasfinally hinted that there was some reason to believe that the promotersof the meeting were acting with a farther intention than at firstappeared, and that they desired to introduce changes into the Catholicfaith and discipline, under cover of this discussion.

  This last insinuation was a home thrust, and was so felt by the meeting.The subject of Efficacious Grace had also been introduced very skilfullyby a young priest, a pupil of the Jesuits himself.

  After a brief consultation with his party Inglesant replied that a greatdeal of what had been advanced was unanswerable; that he himself, apupil of the Jesuits, was as much opposed to the doctrine of EfficaciousGrace as any one could be; that it was the intention of no one presentto urge any course of action unless the meeting unanimously approved ofit; and that, as it appeared that the majority of those present wereprepared to submit to the Holy Office, and did not desire anynegotiation, nothing farther would be attempted.

  There weighed, in truth, upon the hearts of all, and had probablyoppressed Inglesant as he spoke, a sense of hopelessness and ofcontention with an irresistible power. In spite of this feeling,however, the decision of the chiefs drew forth expressions of impatienceand regret from the more enthusiastic partisans; but as these weremostly women, who could not address the assembly, or such as were notprepared to make themselves prominent in face of almost certain arrest,the discussion became desultory and ineffectual, and the meeting finallybroke up without any decision having been arrived at.

  The Piazza was full of carriages and servants, and the Duke di Ceri hadan enormous train of equipages following his carriage to escort himbeyond the gate, on the way to his villa near Civita Vecchia, whither hereturned immediately, not choosing to stay in Rome.

  The meeting being over, Don Agostino urged Inglesant to leave Rome;indeed, the Duke had already pressed him to accompany him to CivitaVecchia, but Inglesant declined.

  The motives which influenced him were of a mixed nature. He was promptedby the most sincere desire to find out a way, both for himself and forothers, in which the highest spiritual walk, and the purest condition ofspiritual worship, might be possible within the Church of Rome. Therewas probably nothing in this world which he desired more than this, forin this was included that still more important freedom, the liberty ofthe reason; for if it were possible for the spirit to be free, whilefulfilling the outward observances, and participating in the outwardordinances of the Church, so also it must be possible for the reason tobe free too.

  It had been this very desire, singular as it may seem, which hadattached him to the Society of the Jesuits. Not only were theirtenets--notably that of sufficient grace given to all men--of wider andmore catholic nature than the Augustinian doctrines held by most bodiesboth of Churchmen and Protestants, but the Society had always, in allits dealings with men, shown a notable leaning to tolerance, even, soits enemies asserted, of sin and vice.

  But besides these motives which had something of a refined and noblecharacter, Inglesant had others. A life of intrigue and policy had,from training and severe practice, become a passion and necessity of hislife. To leave the field where such a fight was going on, to remain inRome, even, an inactive spectator, allowed to pursue his own path merelyfrom the ignoble fact that he was not worth arrest,--both these coursesof action were intolerable to him. He had promised Molinos that hewould not be wanting in the hour of trial, and he would keep his word.He was utterly powerless, as the events of the last few moments wouldhave shown him had he not known it before. The most powerful, thenoblest confederacy fell away impotently before an invisible yetwell-understood power, and a sense of vague irresistible force oppressedhim, and showed him the uselessness of resistance.

  Nevertheless he requested the loan of Don Agostino's carriage that hemight go at once to the General of the Society. He was shown at onceinto a small cabinet, where he was kept waiting a few moments, theGeneral in fact being engaged at that moment in listening to a detailedaccount of the meeting, and of the speeches delivered at it. He howeverentered the room in a few minutes, and the two men saluted each otherwith the appearance of cordial friendship. Inglesant had not changed hisdress, and the General ran his eyes over it with somewhat of an amusedexpression, doubtless comparing the account he had just received withthe appearance of his visitor, the purpose of which he was fully aliveto.

  Inglesant began the conversation.

  "Your reverence is probably acquainted already with the meeting in thePiazza Colonna, and with its objects and results. I, however, have cometo relate what passed as far as you may be disposed to listen, and togive any information, in a perfectly open and sin
cere manner, which youmay wish to receive. In return for this I wish to ask your reverence twoor three questions which I hope will not be unpleasant, and which youwill of course answer or not as it pleases you."

  "As I understand the meeting, Signore Cavaliere," said the General witha slight smile, "it rejected your mediation, in spite of the elaboratecare with which the proposal was brought before it, a care extending tothe minutest particulars, and the chastened eloquence and perfect stylein which it was offered."

  This sarcasm fell comparatively harmlessly upon Inglesant, preoccupiedas his thoughts were. He therefore bowed, saying,--

  "The meeting rejected my mediation, or rather it thought that nomediation was necessary, and trusted itself implicitly to the fatherlycare of the Society of Jesus."

  "What does the meeting representing this new heresy demand?"

  "It demands nothing but the deliverance of its friends now in prison."

  "And nothing else?"

  "Nothing else from the meeting. I am here to demand something else."

  "On your own behalf alone?"

  "On my own responsibility solely; but if my request is granted, manywill be benefited by my work."

  "Have you no abettors? You came here in Don Agostino's coach."

  "I am Don Agostino's dear and intimate friend, and it is not much thathe should lend me his coach. I have many friends in Rome."

  "I know it," said the Jesuit cordially, "and among them the Order ofJesus is not the least sincere."

  Inglesant bowed, and there was a slight pause. Then the General said,--

  "What do you demand?"

  "I demand spiritual freedom--the freedom of silence."

  "Freedom will be abused."

  "Not by me nor by my friends. We pledge ourselves to unbroken silence.All we demand is freedom to worship God in private as He Himself shalllead us. We ask for no change in public doctrine. We seek noproselytes. In fact, we confine ourselves to one desire, the sacramentwithout confession."

  The Jesuit made no reply, but continued to look fixedly into Inglesant'sface.

  "It seems to me, Father," Inglesant went on, with a touch of bitternessin his tone, "that the Society is changing its policy, or rather that ithas a different policy for different classes of men. So far as I haveknown it, it has pursued a course of compromise with all men, andespecially with the weak and frail. It has always appeared to me atrait much to be admired, that in which it is likest to the divinecharity itself; but the world has been very severe upon it. And whenthe world says, 'You have pandered to vice in every form; you haverendered the confessional easy of approach, and the path of penitencesmooth to the impenitent; you have been lenient, nay more than lenient,to the loose liver, to the adulterers and menslayers,--surely you mightbe mild to the devout; surely you might extend a little of this infinitepity to the submissive and obedient, to the pure in life and soul whoseek after God; 'Difficile est satiram non scribere. Nam quis iniquaetam patiens urbis, tam ferreus, ut teneat se.' If the world says this,what am I to answer?' For, if it be so necessary to confine the soul tonarrow dogmas lest she go astray, it must be also necessary to dealfreely and sharply with these sins of the flesh, lest they bring men tosensuality and to hell. By thus acting, as it seems to me, and not bymaking the righteous sad, you would follow the teaching of thosebeautiful words of one of your Fathers, who says, 'that the main designof our Society is to endeavour the establishment of virtue, to carry onthe war against vice, and to cultivate an infinite number of souls.'"

  "You are a bold man, Signore Cavaliere. For far less words than youhave spoken men have grown old in the dungeons of Saint Angelo, wherethe light of day never comes."

  Inglesant, who rather wished to be imprisoned, and flattered himselfthat he should soon be released, was not alarmed at this menace, andremained silent.

  A pause ensued, during which something like this ran through theJesuit's mind:--

  "Shall I have this man arrested at once, or wait? He came to us wellrecommended--the favourite pupil of an important member of the Society,who assured us that he was an instrument perfectly trained, ready at allpoints for use, and of a temper and spirit far above the average, not tobe lost to the Order on any account. He has proved all that was said ofhim, and much more. The Papal throne itself is under obligation to him.But do we want such a man so much? I have scores of agents, ofinstruments ready to my hand, with whom I need use no caution--nofinesse; why waste any on one, however highly finished and trained?But, on the other hand, I speak this in Rome, where everything is ourown, and where the sense of power may have unfitted me from properlyunderstanding this man's value. In the rough regions _in partibus_ sucha tool as this, fine and true as steel, tried in the fire as steel,doubtless is not lightly to be thrown away; at all events, nothing is tobe done hastily. So long as he is in Rome he is safe, and may beclapped up at any moment. I almost wish he would leave, and go back tohis teacher."

  All this occupied but a few seconds, and, as the Jesuit made no answer,Inglesant, who scarcely expected any definite reply, took his leave. Tohis surprise, however, the General insisted on accompanying him to hiscoach. They crossed the courtyard to where the equipage of Don Agostinostood in the street. In the excited imagination of Rome at that moment,the sight of Don Agostino's carriage before the Jesuits' College hadattracted a crowd. When Inglesant appeared, accompanied by the General,the excitement became intense. As they reached the carriage door,Inglesant knelt upon the pavement, and requested the Jesuit's blessing;the foremost of the crowd, impressed by this action, knelt too.Inglesant rose, entered the carriage, and was driven off; and twodifferent rumours spread through Rome--one, that the Society had come toterms with the Quietists through the mediation of the Cavaliere; theother, that the Cavaliere di San Georgio had betrayed the Quietists, andmade his peace with the Order; and this last report received thegreatest amount of credit.