The Jesuits, 1534-1921. Thomas J. Campbell

refer to it as "the second original sin of the Arnauld family," the source, namely, of its ineradicable habit of misrepresentation.

      A short time after this, Jean Chastel struck Henry IV with a knife and cut him slightly on the lip. Immediately everyone recalled Arnauld's furious denunciation of the Jesuits, and a descent was made on the college. A scrap of paper was conveniently found in the library, incriminating the custodian, but the volumes upon volumes of denunciations which had been uttered in the university and in parliament, and which were piled upon the library shelves, were not discovered. The scrap of paper sufficed. The college was immediately confiscated, the inmates expelled from France, and after Jean Chastel had been torn asunder by four horses, Father Guéret was stretched on the rack and Father Guignard was hanged. This occurred at the end of December, 1594.

      Up to this Henry IV had not yet been reconciled to the Church, for the Pope doubted his sincerity and refused to withdraw the excommunication which the king had incurred at the time of his relapse. At last, however, owing to the persistency of Father Possevin and of Cardinal Toletus, he was absolved from his heresy, and could be acknowledged, with a safe conscience by all Catholics, as the legitimate King of France. The action of Toletus in this matter is all the more remarkable from the fact that he was a Spaniard, and in espousing the cause of Henry he was turning his back on his own sovereign, who was using all his power to prevent the reconciliation. This service was publicly recognized by Henry who thanked the Cardinal for his courageous act, and when Toletus died elaborate obsequies were held by the king's orders in the cathedrals of Paris and Rheims. Of course, the appeal of the banished Jesuits was then readily listened to by the king. He restored Clermont to them; gave them other colleges, including the royal establishment of La Flèche, and was forever after their devoted helper and friend. It must have been a great consolation for Father Aquaviva, during the battle he was waging and from which he was to emerge triumphant, to be told of this support of Henry; and also to hear of the welcome the Society had received in loyal Belgium in spite of the persistent animosity of Louvain. Almost every city had been asking for a college.

      About this time, the Jesuits lost a devoted friend in the person of St. Charles Borromeo, who died in 1584. It is a calumny to say that he had turned against them and had taken the seminary of Milan from their direction. It was they themselves who had asked to be relieved of the responsibility, for he had so multiplied their colleges in his diocese, that it was impossible to give the seminary the attention it required. It is true that he was grievously offended by one individual Jesuit who injected himself into a controversy that was going on between the governor and the archbishop, and assailed the great prelate in the pulpit of the very church which had been given to the Society by Borromeo; but Aquaviva quickly brought him to the cardinal's feet to ask forgiveness, and then suspended him for two years from preaching. That incident, however, in no way diminished the affection of the saint for the Society. His last Mass was said in the Jesuit novitiate which he had founded, and he died in the arms of his Jesuit confessor, Father Adorno, two days afterwards.

      Seven years later, on June 21, 1591, another saint died, the young Aloysius Gonzaga. Borromeo knew him well, and had given him his first Communion. This boy saint was not only an angel of purity, but also a martyr of charity, for he died of a fever he had caught from the victims of a plague whom he was attending during a pestilence that devastated Italy. The venerable Bellarmine was his confessor and spiritual father, and, later, when he was about to expire, he said to those around him: "Bury me at the feet of Aloysius Gonzaga."