CHAPTER XLVI.

THE JESUITS.

As I am treating of religious institutions, I must not pass over

in silence that celebrated order, which, from the first years of

its existence, assumed the stature of a colossus, and employed all

a giant's strength; that order which perished without having felt

decay; which did not follow the common course of others, either in its

foundation, in its development, or even in its fall; that order of

which it is truly and correctly said, that it had neither infancy nor

old age. It is clear that I speak of the society of Jesus, the Jesuits.

The name alone will be enough to alarm a certain class of readers; and,

therefore, in order to tranquillize them, I will say that I do not

here undertake to write an apology for the Jesuits; this task does not

belong to the character of my work; moreover, others have undertaken

it, and it is not necessary for me to repeat what is well known. But

it is impossible to call to mind the religious institutions, the

religious, political, and literary history of Europe, during the last

three centuries, without meeting the Jesuits at every step: we cannot

travel in the most distant countries, traverse unknown seas, visit the

most remote lands, or penetrate the most frightful deserts, without

finding everywhere under our feet some memorials of the Jesuits. On

the other hand, we cannot look at our libraries without immediately

remarking the writings of some Jesuits. Since this is the case, even

those among our readers who have the greatest horror of them, ought

to pardon us for fixing our attention for a moment on this institute

which has filled the world with its name. Even if we were to attach

no importance to their modern revival, and to regard their present

existence and their probable future as unworthy of examination, it

would still be altogether inexcusable not to speak of them, at least as

a historical fact. To pass them over in silence, would be to imitate

those ignorant and heartless travellers, who, with stupid indifference,

tread under foot the most interesting ruins and the most valuable

remains.

When we study the history of the Jesuits, this very extraordinary

circumstance is apparent: they have existed only for a few years, if

compared with the duration of other religious bodies, and yet there is

no religious order which has been the object of such keen animosity.

From their origin, they have had numerous enemies; never have they been

free from them, either in their prosperity and greatness, or in their

fall, or even after it; never has their persecution ceased; we should

rather say, never has the animosity with which they have been pursued

ceased. Since their reappearance, men have constantly fixed their eyes

upon them; they tremble lest they should resume their ancient power;

the splendor which is reflected on them by the recollections of their

brilliant history renders them visible everywhere, and augments the

fears of their enemies. How many men among us are more alarmed at the

foundation of a Jesuits' college than at an irruption of Cossacks!

There is, therefore, something very singular and extraordinary in this

institute, since it excites the public attention in so high a degree,

and its mere name disconcerts its enemies. Men do not despise the

Jesuits, but they fear them; sometimes they attempt to throw ridicule

on them; but when that weapon is employed against them, it is felt

that he who wields it is not sufficiently calm to use it with success.

In vain does he attempt to affect contempt; through the affectation

every one can perceive disquietude and anxiety. It is immediately seen

that he who attacks does not believe himself opposed to insignificant

adversaries. His bile is excited, his sallies become checked, his

words, steeped in a fearful bitterness, fall from his mouth like drops

from a poisoned cup; it is clear that he takes the affair to heart,

and does not look upon it as a mere joke. We fancy we hear him say to

himself, "Every thing affecting the Jesuits is extremely grave; there

is no playing with these men--no regard, no indulgence, no moderation

of any kind; it is necessary always to treat them with rigor,

harshness, and detestation; with them, the least negligence may become

fatal."

Unless I am much deceived, this is the best demonstration that can be

given of the eminent merit of the Jesuits. It must be the same with

classes and corporations as with individuals--very extraordinary merit

necessarily excites numerous enemies, for the simple reason that such

merit is always envied, and very often dreaded. In order to know the

real cause of this implacable hatred against them, it is enough to

consider who are their principal enemies. We know that Protestants and

infidels figure there in the first rank; in the second, we remark the

men who, with more or less clearness and resolution, show themselves

but little attached to the authority of the Roman Church. Both, in

their hatred against the Jesuits, are guided by a very rare instinct,

for truly they have never met with a more redoubtable adversary. This

reflection is worthy of the attention of sincere Catholics, who, for

one cause or another, entertain unjust prejudices. When we have to form

a judgment on the merit and conduct of a man, it is very often a sure

means of deciding between contrary opinions to inquire who are his

enemies.

When we fix our attention on the institute of the Jesuits, on the time

of its foundation, on the rapidity and greatness of its progress, we

find the important truth which I have before pointed out more and more

confirmed, viz., that the Catholic Church, with wonderful fruitfulness,

always furnishes an idea worthy of her to meet all the necessities

which arise. Protestantism opposed the Catholic doctrines with the pomp

and parade of knowledge and learning; the _éclat_ of human literature,

the knowledge of languages, the taste for the models of antiquity, were

all employed against religion with a constancy and ardour worthy of a

better cause. Incredible efforts were made to destroy the pontifical

authority; when they could not destroy it, they attempted at least to

weaken and discredit it. The evil spread with fearful rapidity; the

mortal poison already circulated in the veins of a considerable portion

of the European nations: the contagion began to be propagated even in

countries which had remained faithful to the truth. To complete the

misfortune, schism and heresy, traversing the seas, corrupted the faith

of the simple neophytes of the New World. What was to be done in such

a crisis? Could such great evils be remedied by ordinary means? Was

it possible to make head against such great and imminent perils by

employing common arms? Was it not proper to make some on purpose for

such a struggle, to temper the cuirass and shield, to fit them for this

new kind of warfare, in order that the cause of truth might not appear

in the new arena under fatal disadvantages? Who can doubt that the

appearance of the Jesuits was the answer to these questions, that their

institute was the solution of the problem?

The spirit of the coming ages was essentially one of scientific and

literary progress. The Jesuits were aware of this truth; they perfectly

understood it.

It was necessary to advance with rapidity and never to remain behind:

this the new institute does; it takes the lead in all sciences; it

allows none to anticipate it. Men study the oriental languages;

they produce great works on the Bible; they search the books of the

ancient Fathers, the monuments of tradition and of ecclesiastical

decisions: in the midst of this great activity, the Jesuits are at

their posts; many supereminent works issue from their colleges. The

taste for dogmatical controversy is spread over all Europe: many

schools preserve and love the scholastic discussions: immortal works

of controversy come from the hands of the Jesuits, at the same time

that they yield to none in skill and penetration in the schools. The

mathematics, astronomy, all the natural sciences, make great progress;

learned societies are formed in the capitals of Europe to cultivate

and encourage them: in these societies the Jesuits figure in the first

rank. The spirit of time is naturally dissolvent: the institute of

the Jesuits is interiorly armed against dissolution; in spite of the

rapidity of its course, it advances in a compact order, like the mass

of a powerful army. The errors, the eternal disputes, the multitude of

the new opinions, even the progress of the sciences, by exciting men's

minds, give a fatal inconstancy to the human intellect--an impetuous

whirlwind, agitating and stirring up all things, carries them away.

The order of the Jesuits appears in the midst of this whirlwind, but

it partakes neither of its inconstancy nor of its variability; it

pursues its career without losing itself; and while only irregularity

and vacillation are seen among its adversaries, it advances with a

sure step, tending towards its object, like a planet which performs

its orbit according to fixed laws. The authority of the Pope, assailed

with animosity by Protestants, was indirectly attacked by others with

stratagem and dissimulation; the Jesuits showed themselves faithfully

attached to that authority; they defend it wherever it is threatened;

like vigilant sentinels, they constantly watch over the preservation

of Catholic unity. Their knowledge, influence, and riches never affect

their profound submission to the authority of the Popes--a submission

which was ever their distinctive characteristic. In consequence of

the discovery of the new countries in the east and west, a taste for

travelling, for observing distant countries, for the knowledge of the

language, manners, and customs of the recently discovered nations, was

developed in Europe. The Jesuits, spread over the face of the globe,

while preaching the Gospel to the nations, do not forget the study of

the thousand things which may interest cultivated Europe; and at their

return from their gigantic expeditions, they are seen adding their

valuable treasures to the common fund of modern science.

How, then, can we be surprised that Protestants have been so violent

against an institute in which they found so terrible an enemy; and, on

the other hand, was there any thing more natural than to see all the

other enemies of religion, enemies some of whom were wholly unmasked

and some partially disguised, make common cause with Protestants on

this point? The Jesuits were a wall of brass against the assaults

upon the Catholic faith; it was resolved to undermine and overturn

this rampart; which in the end was accomplished. Very few years had

elapsed since the suppression of the Jesuits, and already the memory

of the great crimes which were imputed to them was effaced by the

ravages of an unexampled revolution. Men of good faith, whose excessive

confidence had believed perfidious calumnies, could convince themselves

that the riches, knowledge, influence, and the pretended ambition of

the Jesuits, would never have been as fatal as the triumph of their

enemies; these religious men would never have upset a throne or cut off

the head of a king on the scaffold.

M. Guizot, in glancing at European civilization, necessarily

encountered the Jesuits; and it must be acknowledged that he has not

done them the justice to which they are entitled. After having lamented

the inconsistency of the Protestant Reformation, and the narrow spirit

which guided it, after having confessed that Catholics knew very well

what they did and what they wished, and that they acted up to the

principles of their conduct and avowed all their consequences, M.

Guizot declares that there never was a more consistent government than

that of Rome, and that the court of Rome, always having a fixed idea,

has known how to pursue a consistent and regular line of conduct; he

extols the strength which results from a full knowledge of what one

does and what one wishes; he shows the advantage of a settled design,

and of the complete and absolute adoption of a principle and system;

that is to say, he makes a brilliant panegyric on, and a powerful

apology for, the Catholic Church. Nevertheless, M. Guizot finds the

Jesuits in his way, and unworthy as it is of such a mind as his, which,

in order to require just renown, has no need of burning incense before

vulgar prejudices or mean passions, he attempts, in passing, to throw

a reproach upon them. "Every one knows," says M. Guizot, "that the

principal power instituted to contend against the religious revolution,

was the order of the Jesuits. Throw a glance over their history; they

have failed everywhere; wherever they have interfered to any extent,

they have brought misfortune to the cause in which they have engaged.

In England they have destroyed kings, in Spain nations." M. Guizot had

just told us of the superiority which is obtained over an adversary by

regular and consistent conduct, by the complete and absolute adoption

of a system, and by a fixed idea; as a proof of all this he showed us

the Jesuits, he exhibited to us in them the expression of the system

of the Church; and behold, without any explanation, if not without a

motive, the writer suddenly changes his course; the advantages of the

system which he has just praised disappear from his eyes; for those who

follow this system, that is the Jesuits themselves, fail everywhere,

and everywhere bring misfortunes on the cause which they embrace. How

can such assertions be reconciled? The credit, influence, and sagacity

of the Jesuits have passed into a proverb. The reproach against them

was, of having extended their views too far, of having conceived

ambitious plans, and obtained by their skill a decided ascendency in

all the places where they succeeded in gaining entrance; Protestants

themselves have openly confessed that the Jesuits were their most

redoubtable adversaries; it was always thought that the foundation of

the order had an immense result, and now we learn from M. Guizot, that

the Jesuits have everywhere failed; that their support, far from being

a great succour, always brought fatality and misfortune to the cause

of which they declared themselves the advocates. If they were such

fatal servants, why were their services sought with so much eagerness?

If they always conducted affairs so ill, why have the most important

ones in the end fallen into their hands? Adversaries so foolish or so

unfortunate certainly ought not to have excited in the enemies' camp so

much clamor as was raised at their approach.

"In England the Jesuits have destroyed kings, in Spain nations."

Nothing is easier than these bold strokes of the pen; the whole of a

great history is traced in a single line, and an infinity of facts,

grouped and confounded, are made to pass under the eye of the reader

with the rapidity of lightning; the eye has not even time to look at

them, still less to analyze them as would be necessary. M. Guizot

should have devoted some sentences to prove his assertion; he should

have stated the facts and pointed out the reasons on which he builds,

when he affirms that the influence of the Jesuits has had so fatal an

effect. With respect to the kings of England here so boldly sacrificed,

I cannot enter into an examination of the religious and political

revolutions which agitated and desolated the three kingdoms for two

centuries after the schism of Henry VIII. These revolutions, in their

immense circle, have presented very different phases; disfigured and

perverted by the Protestants, who have success in their favor, that

decisive, if not convincing argument, they have made some men of

little reflection believe that the disasters of England were in great

part due to the imprudence of the Catholics, and, as an indispensable

corollary, to the pretended intrigues of the Jesuits. In spite of this,

the Catholic movement which England has witnessed for half a century,

and the great works which every day carry on the restoration of

Catholicity, will at last disperse the calumnies by which our faith has

been stigmatized. Before long, the history of the last three centuries

will be restored as it ought, and the truth will appear in its proper

light. This observation relieves me from the necessity of entering into

details on the subject of the first assertion of M. Guizot; but I must

not leave without reply what he so gratuitously affirms on the subject

of Spain.

"The Jesuits have destroyed nations in Spain," says M. Guizot; I wish

that the publicist had explained to us to what great disaster he

alluded. To what period does he refer? I have examined our history,

and I do not find this destruction which was caused by the Jesuits; I

cannot imagine whereon the historian fixed his eyes when he pronounced

these words. Nevertheless, the antithesis between Spain and England,

between nations and kings, leads us to suspect that M. Guizot alluded

to the shipwreck of political liberty; we are not aware that there is

any other better-founded or more legitimate interpretation. But then a

new difficulty presents itself: how can we believe that a man so versed

in the knowledge of history, composing a course of lectures which is

particularly devoted to the general history of European civilization,

should fall into a palpable error,--should commit an unpardonable

anachronism? Indeed, whatever may be the judgments of publicists on

the causes which have produced the loss of liberty in Spain, and

on the important events of the days of the Catholic sovereigns, of

Philippe le Beau, of Jeanne-la-Folle, and the regency of Cisneros, all

are unanimous in saying that the war of the Commons was the critical

moment, decisive of the liberty of Spain; all are agreed that the two

parties played their last stake at that time, and that the battle of

Villalar and the punishment of Padilla, by confirming and increasing

the royal power, destroyed the last hopes of the partisans of the

ancient liberties. Well, the battle of Villalar was fought in 1521; at

that time the Jesuits did not exist, and St. Ignatius, their founder,

was still a brilliant knight, battling like a hero under the walls of

Pampeluna. To this there is no reply; all philosophy and eloquence are

unable to efface these dates.

During the sixteenth century, the Cortes met more or less often, and

with more or less influence, above all in the kingdom of Aragon; but

it is as clear as daylight that the royal power had every thing under

its domination, that nothing could resist it, and the unfortunate

attempt of the Aragonese, at the time of the affair of Don Antonio

Perez, sufficiently shows that there existed then no remains of ancient

liberty which could oppose the will of kings. Some years after the

war of the Commons, Charles V. gave the _coup de grace_ to the Cortes

of Castile, by excluding from it the clergy and the nobles, to leave

only the _Estamento de Procuradores_, a feeble rampart against the

exigencies, against the all-powerful attempts of a monarch on whose

dominions the sun never set. This exclusion took place in 1538, at the

time when St. Ignatius was still occupied with the foundation of his

order; the Jesuits, therefore, could have had no influence therein.

Still more, the Jesuits, after their establishment in Spain, never

employed their influence against the liberty of the people. From

their pulpits they did not teach doctrines favorable to despotism; if

they reminded the people of their duties, they also reminded kings

of theirs; if they wished the rights of monarchs to be respected,

they would not allow those of the people to be trodden under foot.

To prove the truth of this, I appeal to the testimony of those who

have read the writings of the Jesuits of that time on questions of

public law. "The Jesuits," says M. Guizot, "were called to contend

against the general course of events, against the development of modern

civilization, against the liberty of the human mind." If the general

course of events is nothing but the course of Protestantism, if the

development of Protestantism is the development of modern civilization,

if the liberty of the human mind consists only in the fatal pride, in

the mad independence which the pretended reformers communicated to

it, then nothing is more true than the assertion of the publicist;

but if the preservation of Catholicity is a fact of any weight in the

history of Europe, if her influence during the last three centuries has

amounted to any thing, if the reigns of Charles V., Philip II., Louis

XIV., do not deserve to be effaced from modern history, and if regard

ought to be had to that immense counterpoise to which was owing the

equilibrium of the two religions; in fine, if the faith of Descartes,

Malebranche, Bossuet, and Fénélon, can make a dignified appearance in

the picture of modern civilization, it is impossible to understand how

the Jesuits, when intrepidly defending Catholicity, could be struggling

against the general course of events, against the development of modern

civilization, and against the freedom of human thought.

After having made this first false step, M. Guizot continues to slip in

a deplorable manner. I particularly call the attention of my readers

to the following evident contradictions: "With the Jesuits, there is

no _éclat_, no grandeur. They have performed no brilliant exploits."

The publicist entirely forgets what he has just advanced, or rather

he directly retracts it, when he adds, a few lines further, "and yet,

nothing is more certain than that they have had grandeur; a grand idea

belongs to their names, to their influence, and to their history.

It is because they knew what they did, and what they wished; it is

because they had a clear and full knowledge of the principles on which

they acted, and of the end towards which they tended; that is to say,

because they have had grandeur of thought and of will." Is genius

in its vastest enterprises, in the realization of its most gigantic

projects, any thing more than a grand idea and a grand intention?

The mind conceives, the will executes; this fashions the model, that

makes the application; if there be grandeur in the model and in the

application, how can the whole work fail to be grand?

Pursuing the task of lowering the Jesuits, M. Guizot makes a parallel

between them and the Protestants; he confounds ideas in such a way, and

so far forgets the nature of things, that one would hardly believe it,

if the words themselves did not prove it beyond a doubt. Forgetting

that it is necessary for the terms of a comparison not to be of a

totally different kind, which renders all comparison impossible, M.

Guizot compares a religious institute with whole nations; he goes

so far as to reproach the Jesuits with not having raised the people

_en masse_, and with not having changed the form and condition of

states. Here is the passage: "They have acted in subterraneous, dark,

and inferior ways; in ways which were not at all apt to strike the

imagination, or to conciliate for them that public interest which

attaches itself to great things, whatever may be their principle and

end. The party against which they contended, on the contrary, not

only conquered, but conquered with _éclat_; it has done great things

and by great means; it has aroused nations; it has filled Europe with

great men; it has changed the form and the lot of nations in the face

of day. In a word, all has been against the Jesuits, both fortune and

appearances." Without intending to offend M. Guizot, let us avow,

that for the honor of his logic, one would desire to efface from his

writings such phrases as we have just read. What! ought the Jesuits

to have put the nations in motion, made them arise _en masse_, and

changed the form and condition of states? Would they not have been

extraordinary religious men, if they had been allowed to do such

things? It was said of the Jesuits that they had unbounded ambition,

and that they attempted to rule the world; and now they are compared

with their adversaries in order to throw it in their faces that the

latter have overturned the world; a distinguished merit, which must

have been a disgrace to the Jesuits themselves. Indeed, the Jesuits

have never attempted to imitate their adversaries on this point; with

respect to the spirit of confusion and perturbation, they joyfully

yield the palm to those to whom it rightly belongs.

As far as great men are concerned, if the question be with respect to

the greatness of the enterprises which are becoming in a minister of

the God of peace, then have the Jesuits had this kind of grandeur in

an eminent degree. Whether it be in the most arduous affairs, or in

the vastest projects in science and literature, whether it be in the

most distant missions, or in the most redoubtable perils, the Jesuits

have never remained behind; on the contrary, they have been seen to

display a spirit so bold and enterprising, that they have thereby

obtained the most distinguished renown. If the great men of whom M.

Guizot speaks are restless tribunes, who, putting themselves at the

head of an ungovernable people, violated the public peace, if they are

the Protestant warriors whose names have shone in the wars of Germany,

France, and England, the comparison is foolish, and has no meaning;

for priests and warriors, religious and tribunes, are so distinct, so

different in actions and character, that to compare them is impossible.

Justice required that in such a parallel, where the Jesuits are taken

as one of the terms of the comparison, Protestants should not be placed

on the other, unless by them the reformed ministers are meant. Even in

this later case the comparison would not have been absolutely exact,

since, in the midst of the great differences between the two religions,

the Jesuits are not found alone in defending Catholicity. The Church,

during the last three centuries, has had great prelates, holy priests,

eminent _savants_, and writers of the first order, who did not belong

to the company of Jesus; the Jesuits were reckoned among the principal

champions, but they were not the only ones. Had it been wished fairly

to compare Protestantism with Catholicity, it would have been requisite

to oppose Protestant to Catholic nations, to compare priests with

priests, _savants_ with savants, politicians with politicians, warriors

with warriors; to do otherwise is monstrously to confound names and

things, and to reckon too much on the limited understandings and

excessive simplicity of hearers and readers. It is certain that if

the method we have pointed out were adopted, Protestantism would not

appear so brilliant and superior as the publicist has exhibited it to

us. Catholics, as M. Guizot well knows, do not yield to Protestants in

letters, in war, or in political ability. History is there; let it be

consulted.

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