But an expelled Jesuit is, I apprehend, a rarer being, even than a candid one. They know little of priests, little of Rome, nothing of the spirit of the Society of Jesus, as they profanely call themselves, who can for one moment suppose, that the high and trusty dignitaries of the order, (and none else knew their secrets,)—would escape with expulsion, and the power to reveal them. The cord, the bowl, the dagger, are instruments not perfectly unknown to this fraternity; and none ever knew better, that the dead speak not. The light of history must be put out, and the ferocious spirit that even in this free land gnashes on us with its hideous teeth must be more warily concealed, before such stories about _expelled Jesuits_ can gain credence. But if this were the work of expelled Jesuits,—the order must have been peculiarly unhappy. For, from the proofs adduced, there must have been at the least _four of them_, widely separated in country and distant by generations from each other! This Venetian Jesuit about 1596, and this Jesuit at Amsterdam in 1717, nearly a hundred and twenty years after him: these Jesuits at Prague and Paderborn about the middle of the seventeenth century, and those French Jesuits at Cologne far into the eighteenth, eighty years apart; how could it be, that so many of them should have been expelled as if for the very purpose of miraculously writing falsehoods, that were perfectly identical! Upon the whole, this is a better story than that for which some are silly enough to say they have the unanimous consent of the fathers, about the miraculous translation of the Septuagint, by seventy men, in seventy cells who in an incredibly short time turned all the old Testament from Hebrew into Greek, all using identically the same words!