Simon Magus was doubtless a pupil of the Tanaim of Samaria, the reputation which he left behind, together with the title given to him of “the Great Power of God,” testifies strongly in favor of the ability of his teachers. The calumnies so zealously disseminated against him by the unknown authors and compilers of the Acts and other writings, could not cripple the truth to such an extent as to conceal the fact that no Christian could rival him in thaumaturgic deeds. The story told about his falling during an aerial flight, breaking both his legs, and then committing suicide, is ridiculous. Instead of praying mentally that it should so happen, why did not the apostles pray rather that they should be allowed to outdo Simon in wonders and miracles, for then they might have proved their case far more easily than they did, and so converted thousands to Christianity. Posterity has heard but one side of the story. Were the disciples of Simon to have a chance, we might find, perhaps, that it was Peter who broke both his legs, had we not known that this apostle was too prudent ever to venture himself in Rome. On the confession of several ecclesiastical writers, no apostle ever performed such “supernatural wonders.” Of course pious people will say this only the more proves that it was the “Devil” who worked through Simon.

Simon was accused of blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, because he introduced it as the “Holy Spiritus, the Mens (Intelligence), or the mother of all.” But we find the same expression used in the Book of Enoch, in which, in contradistinction to the “Son of Man,” he says “Son of the Woman.” In the Codex of the Nazarenes, and in the Sohar, as well in the Books of Hermes, the expression is usual; and even in the apocryphal Evangelium of the Hebrews we read that Jesus himself admitted the sex of the Holy Ghost by using the expression, “My mother, the Holy Pneuma.

But what is the heresy of Simon, or what the blasphemies of all the

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heretics, in comparison with that of the same Jesuits who have now so completely mastered the Pope, ecclesiastical Rome, and the entire Catholic world? Listen again to their profession of faith.

“Do what your conscience tells you to be good and commanded: if, through invincible error, you believe lying or blasphemy to be commanded by God, blaspheme.

“Omit to do what your conscience tells you is forbidden: omit the worship of God, if you invincibly believe it to be prohibited by God.”

“There is an implied law . . . obey an invincibly erroneous dictate of conscience. As often as you believe invincibly that a lie is commanded — lie.

“Let us suppose a Catholic to believe invincibly that the worship of images is forbidden: in such a case our Lord Jesus Christ will be obliged to say to him, ‘Depart from me thou cursed . . . because thou hast worshipped mine image.‘ So, neither, is there any absurdity in supposing that Christ may say, ‘Come thou blessed . . . because thou hast lied, believing invincibly, that in such a case I commanded the lie.‘”

Does not this — but no! words fail to do justice to the emotions that these astonishing precepts must awaken in the breast of every honest person. Let silence, resulting from invincible disgust, be our only adequate tribute to such unparalleled moral obliquity.

The popular feeling in Venice (1606), when the Jesuits were driven out from that city, expressed itself most forcibly. Great crowds had accompanied the exiles to the sea-shore, and the farewell cry which resounded after them over the waves, was, “Ande in malora!” (Get away! and woe be to you.) “That cry was echoed throughout the two following centuries”; says Michelet, who gives this statement, “in Bohemia in 1618 . . . in India in 1623 . . . and throughout all Christendom in 1773.”

In what particular was then Simon Magus a blasphemer, if he only did that which his conscience invincibly told him was true? And in what particular were ever the “Heretics,” or even infidels of the worst kind more reprehensible than the Jesuits — those of Caen,for instance — who say the following:

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