“I was not aware of that,” said I; “in fact, I have been accustomed simply enough to believe the very reverse, without reflecting on the matter, in consequence of having heard that the Church had such an abhorrence of bloodshed as not even to permit ecclesiastical judges to attend in criminal cases.”[171] “Never mind that,” he replied; “our Father Lamy has completely proved the doctrine I have laid down, although, with a humility which sits uncommonly well on so great a man, he submits it to the judgment of his judicious readers. Caramuel, too, our famous champion, quoting it in his Fundamental Theology, p. 543, thinks it so certain, that he declares the contrary opinion to be destitute of probability, and draws some admirable conclusions from it, such as the following, which he calls ‘the conclusion of conclusions—_conclusionum conclusio_:’ ‘That a priest not only may kill a slanderer, but there are certain circumstances in which it may be his _duty_ to do so—_etiam aliquando debet occidere_.’ He examines a great many new questions on this principle, such as the following, for instance: ‘_May the Jesuits kill the Jansenists?_’” “A curious point of divinity that, father!” cried I. “I hold the Jansenists to be as good as dead men, according to Father Lamy’s doctrine.” “There now, you are in the wrong,” said the monk: “Caramuel infers the very reverse from the same principles.” “And how so, father?” “Because,” he replied, “it is not in the power of the Jansenists to injure our reputation. ‘The Jansenists,’ says he, ‘call the Jesuits Pelagians; may they not be killed for that? No; inasmuch as the Jansenists can no more obscure the glory of the Society than an owl can eclipse that of the sun; on the contrary, they have, though against their intention, enhanced it—_occidi non possunt, quia nocere non potuerunt_.’”