The New Conspiracy Against the Jesuits Detected and Briefly Exposed: with a short account of their institute

In Short

This polemical defense of the Society of Jesus operates as a detailed historical audit, seeking to dismantle the long-standing accusations of conspiracy, political intrigue, and moral corruption leveled against the Jesuit order. Published in 1815, it acts as a retrospective corrective to the Enlightenment-era accounts that prompted the suppression of the order in the 18th century. By contrasting historical documents with the biases of Enlightenment thinkers, the author aims to rescue the reputation of the Jesuits and argue that their destruction was a catalyst for the social chaos of the French Revolution.

The Story

The narrative begins with a resolute intent: to clear the name of a society historically synonymous with subversion. The author addresses his work to George Canning, an influential British diplomat, framing the Jesuits not as the shadowy power-brokers of legend, but as an unfortunate victim of political and intellectual persecution. He positions the suppression of the order—culminating in the 1773 papal brief by Clement XIV—not as a triumph of reason or justice, but as a tragic error of short-sighted diplomacy.

The core of the argument systematically examines the authorities upon whom modern historians like Robertson have relied. The author contends that these sources, including figures like D’Alembert and Diderot, were not impartial observers but active participants in a broader ideological movement—a "jacobinical philosophy" that viewed the Jesuit commitment to traditional religious education as the ultimate obstacle to their reformist agendas. He paints a portrait of a society built upon intellectual and moral rigor, now being maligned by authors who prioritize polemics over objective evidence.

Moving beyond the European intellectual sphere, the text shifts to the global operations of the Jesuit order, particularly their missionary work in South America. Here, the author defends the Jesuits against charges of sedition, arguing that their efforts to insulate indigenous populations from the influence of European colonizers were born of a protective, paternalistic piety rather than a desire for political independence. He counters the image of the treacherous Jesuit, who whispers in the ears of kings, with the reality of educators who instructed the youth of Europe in faith, letters, and order.

The argument reaches its climax by connecting the downfall of the Jesuits to the rise of the French Revolution. The author suggests that the void left by the expulsion of these educators was filled by the very "sanguinary demagogues" who sought the destruction of the monarchy and the Church. He concludes that the erasure of the Jesuits was not a purification of society, but the removal of a stabilizing pillar. The book ends by insisting that the historical record of the Jesuits is one of consistent adherence to their own internal rules—a code of conduct that emphasizes obedience, self-denial, and service—and that their continued vilification is a product of a modern culture that has confused the light of faith with the darkness of superstition.

How It Unfolds

The call to inquiry The author establishes his thesis by questioning the validity of the historical authorities that condemned the order. He asserts that the scholars of his time were misled by biased predecessors who lacked the necessary distance to judge the society objectively.

The anatomy of a bias He deconstructs the reliance on figures like D’Alembert and Chalotais, framing them as architects of a philosophical agenda. By identifying their personal hatred for the Church, he argues that their accounts of Jesuit crimes were essentially political fabrications.

The defense of the mission The focus shifts to the Jesuit presence in Peru and Paraguay, where he portrays them as protectors of the innocent. He refutes claims of colonial rebellion, framing their isolationist policies as necessary for the preservation of Christian morality.

The connection to revolution A pivotal beat links the destruction of Jesuit colleges to the rise of the French Revolution. He provides a list of radical figures who emerged in the wake of the order’s collapse, claiming this proves the societal necessity of their educational model.

The final assessment The text concludes by analyzing the internal governance of the Jesuits, citing the structural checks and balances that prevented the misuse of power. He maintains that the society operated under a strict, transparent, and humble rule that stands in direct contrast to the accusations of their modern detractors.

The People

Robert Charles Dallas positions himself as the objective, if passionate, researcher—the man with the "feeble pen" attempting to unweave a complex web of historical prejudice. His primary target, the "historian" Robertson, serves as the representative of established academic opinion, a figure Dallas respects for his writing but rejects for his uncritical reliance on faulty, partisan sources.

Clement XIV occupies a complex space in this history; he is the man who ultimately signed the decree of suppression, yet Dallas treats him with a mixture of pity and frustration. He characterizes the Pope as an intellectual soul who lacked the stomach for martyrdom, ultimately sacrificing his principles to political "convenience." In contrast, the Jesuit order itself is personified as a collective entity—steadfast, obedient, and scholarly. The Jesuits are the "men who fear God and honor the king," acting as the silent, reliable educators of the aristocracy and the protectors of the marginalized. Finally, the "Jacobinical conspirators" like D’Alembert and Diderot appear as the antagonists. They are depicted not merely as critics, but as masters of "sophistry" who viewed the Jesuits as the final barrier to their goal of dismantling religion and social order.

In Its Own Voice

The author highlights the internal standard of conduct required of members of the Society, contrasting it with the perceived chaos of the modern world.

Omnes qui se Societati addixerunt, in virtutum solidarum ac perfectarum, et spiritualium rerum studium incumbant.

(All who have dedicated themselves to the Society should apply themselves to the study of solid, perfect, and spiritual things.)

He critiques the tendency of later historians to rely on sensationalist, unsubstantiated claims rather than primary evidence.

He leads his conspirator through cities and provinces, to gather associates; the pope, or the king of Spain, or some cardinal, directs the plot; he has at his finger-ends the closest secrets of the conspiracy; he recites letters, which were never written; and, most commonly, Jesuits, but sometimes Dominicans, even Capuchins, are his principal actors.

(Describing the unreliable, romanticized style of the historian De Thou.)

What It's Really About

At its core, this is a book about the ownership of history. It investigates how a narrative of "conspiracy" can be constructed to facilitate the destruction of an institution. The author argues that the Jesuits were not destroyed because they were immoral, but because their rigorous, traditional education posed an existential threat to the secular, rationalist reforms of the 18th century. The questions raised are timeless: how do we distinguish between historical fact and the propaganda of our own time? To what extent does the destruction of traditional institutions invite the very anarchy they were intended to prevent? It is a study of how powerful, established bodies are often dismantled by those who characterize their own ideological revolutions as the inevitable march of progress.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy historiography and the study of institutional survival will find this volume fascinating. It provides a unique window into the early 19th-century intellectual climate, where the memory of the French Revolution was still raw and the debate over the nature of Jesuit influence was high-stakes. The prose is earnest and precise, though a reader must be prepared for the author’s heavy reliance on Latin citations and 18th-century polemical style.

The primary difficulty lies in the book's period-specific assumptions; the author assumes his audience is already familiar with the broad strokes of European ecclesiastical politics, and he writes with a clear, unabashed bias in favor of the order. However, the value of the book today is not in its absolute historical accuracy—which is colored by the author's own defense—but in its methodological transparency. It is an excellent example of a writer attempting to combat "fake news" and historical revisionism in his own era. If you are interested in the mechanics of how reputations are dismantled and how a defense can be mounted against the weight of a prevailing public opinion, this book serves as a compelling, if dense, case study.