d to a system of secret intimidation and menace
which unquestionably had its influence over many.

I have not space here to dwell on a theme, some of whose details might,
however, prove amusing, illustrating as they did the mysterious working
of that Jesuit element which labored so zealously and so long in the
cause of the Restoration. There is a little work still extant, called
"L'Espionage et ses Dangers," by Jules Lacoste, published at Bruxelles,
in 1802, which gives, if not a perfectly authentic, at least a very
graphic, description of this curious system. The writer distinctly
alleges that five of his colleagues met their deaths by poison, on mere
suspicion of their disloyalty, and gives the names of several whose
impaired faculties and shattered health showed that they had narrowly,
but perhaps not more fortunately, escaped a similar fate.

For my own part I must own that such perils were not mine. It is true,
I was asked to reconsider my determination. It was at first hinted
vaguely, and then positively assured me, that my long and faithful
services were on the eve of a high and substantial recognition. I was
even told that my own wishes would be consulted as to the nature of my
reward, since I was not to be treated like one of the mere herd. When
all these temptations were found to fail, I was left, as it were, to
reflect on the matter, while in reality a still more ingenious and
artful scheme was drawn around me; the Abbe being employed as its chief
agent. Affecting, in a measure, to coincide with and even encourage my
determination, he invited me constantly to his lodgings, and by degrees
insinuated himself into my confidence. At least he learned that it was
in pure disgust of the career itself that I desired to forsake it, and
not with any prospect of other advancement in life. He sought eagerly to
discover the secret subject which engaged my thoughts, for I could
not succeed in concealing my deep pre-occupation; but he cautiously
abstained from ever obtruding even a word of question or inquiry. Nor
did his ardor stop here; he studied my tastes, my passions, and my
disposition, as subjects for successful temptation. I was young,
high-couraged, and enthusiastic; and yet he found me indifferent to
pleasure, and indisposed to society and its amusements. He knew me to
be poor, and yet saw clearly that wealth did not dazzle me. I was humble
and unknown; yet no recognition of the high and great could stir my
heart