CHAPTER XIII. 1760–1771.

For many years past, in the old world and in the new, there had been a silent but increasing fear of the Jesuits. It was known that in America their missionary zeal among the Indians in the remotest provinces was unequalled. The winning manners of the cultivated gentlemen who composed this powerful order in the Catholic church, gave them a proper and natural influence with the children of the forest, whom they had withdrawn from idolatry and partially civilized. But the worthy Jesuits, did not confine their zealous labors to the wilderness. Members of the order, all of whom were responsible and implicitly obedient to their great central power, were spread throughout the world, and were found in courts and camps as well as in the lonely mission house of the frontier or in the wigwam of the Indian. They had become rich as well as powerful, for, whilst they taught christianity, they did not despise the wealth of the world. Whatever may have been their personal humility, their love for the progressive power and dignity of the order, was never permitted for a moment to sleep. A body, stimulated by such a combined political and ecclesiastical passion, all of whose movements, might be controlled by a single, central, despotic will, may now be kept in subjection in the old world, where the civil and military police is ever alert in support of the national authorities. But, at that epoch of transition in America whose vast regions were filled with credulous and ignorant aborigines, and thinly sprinkled with intelligent, educated and loyal Europeans, it was deemed dangerous to leave the superstitious Indians to become the prey, rather than the flock,—the instruments, rather than the acolytes of such insidious shepherds. These fears had seized the mind of Charles III. who dreaded a divided dominion in America, with the venerable fathers. We do not believe that there was just cause for the royal alarm. We do not suppose that the Jesuits whose members, it is true, were composed of the subjects of all