FROM VITELLESCHI TO RICCI
1615-1773
Pupils in the Thirty Years War--Caraffa; Piccolomini; Gottifredi
--Mary Ward--Alleged decline of the Society--John Paul Oliva--
Jesuits in the Courts of Kings--John Casimir--English
Persecutions. Luzancy and Titus Oates--Jesuit Cardinals--
Gallicanism in France--Maimbourg--Dez--Troubles in Holland. De
Noyelle and Innocent XI--Attempted Schism in France--Gonzáles
and Probabilism--Don Pedro of Portugal--New assaults of
Jansenists--Administration of Retz--Election of Ricci--The
Coming Storm.
As Mutius Vitelleschi's term of office extended from 1615 to 1645, it
coincided almost exactly with the Thirty Years War. Of course, the
colleges, which had been established in almost every country in Europe,
felt the effects of this protracted and devastating struggle, but, on
the other hand, comfort was found in the fact that many of the great
statesmen and soldiers of that epoch had been trained in those schools.
There was, for instance, the Emperor Ferdinand, of whom Gustavus
Adolphus used to say, "I fear only his virtues," and associated with him
was Maximilian, the Great, who was so ardent in the practice of his
religion that Macaulay describes him as, "a fervent missionary wielding
the powers of a prince." He appointed the Jesuit poet, Balde, as his
court preacher, and called to Ingolstadt the Jesuit astronomer,
Scheiner, who disputed with Galileo the discovery of the sun-spots--as a
matter of fact, the discoveries of both synchronized with each other,
but Fabricius is asserted to have anticipated both. Scheiner suggested
and planned the optical experiment which bears his name, and also
invented the pantograph.
Tilly, one of the greatest warriors of his time, had first thought of
entering the Society, but, on the advice of his spiritual guides, took
up the profession of arms. According to Spahn "he displayed genuine
piety, remarkable self-control and disinterestedness and seemed like a
monk in the garb of a soldier" (The Catholic Encyclopedia, XIV, 724). As
he was in command of the league of the Catholic states, and was ordered
to restore the lands which had been wrested from their Catholic owners,
of course, he gained the reputation of being a bitter foe of
Protestantism--an attitude of mind which was attributed to his education
at Cologne and Chatelet. Wallenstein, his successor, was educated at the
Jesuit college of Olmütz and was a liberal benefactor of his old masters
in the work of education. The fact that in 1633 they saved from the fury
of a Vienna mob their rancorous enemy, the famous Count de Thurn, when
he was taken prisoner by Wallenstein in the Bohemian uprising, ought to
count for something in dissipating the delusion that Jesuits are
essentially persecutors. When the Emperor Mathias sent them back to
Bohemia and founded a college for them at Tirnau and affiliated it to
the University of Prague, they showed their gratitude by sacrificing a
number of their men in the pestilence which was then raging.
Richelieu, who was prominent in what was called the French period of the
war, was particularly solicitous in protecting the interests of his
former teachers. Although politically supporting the Protestant cause,
he invariably stipulated in his treaties that the Jesuits should be
protected in the territories handed over to Protestant control, even
when they opposed him, as for instance, in the Siege of Prague, where
Father George Plachy, a professor of sacred history in the university,
led out his students in a sortie and drove back the foe--an exploit
which merited for him a mural crown from the city while Emperor
Ferdinand III sent an autograph letter to the General of the Society to
thank him for the patriotism displayed by Plachy. Indeed, when the
Protestant ministers of Charenton wanted Richelieu to suppress the
Jesuits, he answered that "it was the glory of the Society to be
condemned by those who attack the Church, calumniate the saints, and
blaspheme Christ and God. For many reasons, the Jesuits ought to be
esteemed by everyone; indeed there are not a few who love them precisely
because men like you hate them."
There is one of their pupils who, at this time, though a man of unusual
ability, brought sorrow not only on the Society but also on the
universal Church: Marc Antonio de Dominis. He was a Dalmatian, whose
family had given a Pope and many illustrious prelates to the Church. He
followed the course of the Jesuit college in Illyria, and amazed his
masters by the brilliancy of his talents. He entered the novitiate, and
contrary to the practice of the Society was immediately made a professor
of sacred eloquence, philosophy and mathematics. Crowds flocked to hear
him; meantime he distinguished himself in the pulpit. Apparently he was
a priest when he became a novice. The fame he acquired, however, turned
his head and he left the Society to become a bishop, and later an
archbishop, in Dalmatia. But his utterances soon showed that he was at
odds with the Church. He was with Venice in its quarrel with the Pope,
and then relinquishing his archbishopric, he fled to England, where he
was received with enthusiasm by James I, who kept him at court, showered
rich benefices on him and made him Dean of Windsor. There he wrote a
book entitled "De republica christiana" (1620), which denied the primacy
of the Pope. Pursued by remorse he went to Rome and at the feet of
Gregory XV implored forgiveness for his apostasy. But his repentance was
feigned. His letters to certain individuals showed that he was still a
heretic, and he was imprisoned in Sant' Angelo, where he died in 1624,
giving signs at the last moment of genuine repentance.
The long Generalate of Vitelleschi was clouded by one disaster: the
expulsion of the Jesuits from the Duchy of Lorraine. They had opposed
the bigamous marriage of the duke, but his confessor, Father Cheminot,
claimed that there were sufficient grounds for invalidating the first
marriage, and took the opposite side. He was expelled from the Society
or left it.
During Vitelleschi's time, the famous English nun, Mary Ward, appeared
in Rome. She had been a Poor Clare, but found that it was not her
vocation to be a contemplative, and she, therefore, proposed to
establish a religious congregation which would do for women in their own
sphere what the Jesuits were doing for men. For that end she asked for
dispensation from enclosure, choir duty, the religious habit and also
freedom from diocesan control. As all this was an imitation of the
Society's methods, she and her companions began to be called by their
enemies "Jesuitesses." Their demands, of course, evoked a storm, but
Father Vitelleschi encouraged them, and Suárez and Lessius were deputed
to study the constitutions of the new congregation. Nevertheless,
although the women were the recipients of very great consideration from
three Popes, Paul V, Gregory XV, and Urban VIII, the committee of
cardinals to whom the matter was referred, refused in 1630 to approve of
their rules. In 1639 the little group returned to England where, under
the protection of Queen Henrietta Maria, they began their work, and were
approved by the Holy See. At first, they were known in Rome as "The
English Ladies." In Ireland and America they are "The Loretto Nuns" (A
masterly review of this incident may be found in Guilday's "English
Refugees," I, c. vi).
Vitelleschi died in February, 1645, and was followed in rapid succession
by Fathers Caraffa, Piccolomini, Gottifredi and Nickel, whose collective
terms amounted only to seventeen years. Caraffa governed the Society for
three years; Piccolomini for two; and Gottifredi died before the
congregation which elected him had terminated its work. Nickel was
chosen in 1652. He was old and infirm and after nine years, felt
compelled to ask for a Vicar-General to assist him in his work. The one
chosen for this office was John Paul Oliva. He served three years in
that capacity, but as he had been made Vicar with the right of
succession, he became General automatically when Father Nickel died on
July 31, 1664. This departure from usage had been allowed with the
approval of Pope Alexander VII. Oliva was a Venetian and two of his
family, his grandfather and uncle, had been Doges of the Republic.
Before his election to the office of General he had been ten years
master of novices and had also been named rector of the Collegium
Germanicum. He was on terms of intimacy with Condé and Turenne; and
Innocent X died in his arms. His election evidently gave great
satisfaction. Princes and cardinals began to multiply the colleges of
the Society throughout Italy, where they already abounded. Milan,
Naples, Cuneo, Monbasileo, Volturna, Genoa, Turin, Savigliano, Brera and
other cities all wanted them.
It is this period from 1615 to 1664, which, for some undiscoverable
reason, is described both by Ranke and Böhmer-Monod as marking the
deterioration and decay of the Society. An examination of this
indictment is, of course, imperative; and though it must necessarily be
somewhat polemical, it may be helpful to a better understanding of the
situation and give a more complete knowledge of facts. Ranke begins his
attack by throwing discredit on Vitelleschi, describing him as a man of
"little learning," adducing as his authority for this assertion a phrase
in some Italian writer who says that Vitelleschi was a man "_di poche
lettre ma di santità di vita non ordinaria_." Now the obvious meaning of
this is, not that he was a man of "little learning," but that "he wrote
very few letters." As he belonged to an unusually illustrious family of
princes, cardinals, and popes; and as he had not only made the full
course of studies in the Society, but had taught philosophy and theology
for several years and was subsequently appointed to be the Rector of the
Collegium Maximum of Naples, which was the Society's house of advanced
studies, and as he was, besides, the author of several learned works, it
is manifestly ridiculous to class him with the illiterates. As a matter
of fact, Mutius Vitelleschi was a far better educated man than Leopold
von Ranke.
Father Nickel, in turn, is set down as "rude, discourteous, and
repulsive; to such an extent that he was deposed from his office by the
general congregation, which explicitly declared that he had forfeited
all authority."
It would be hard to crowd into a whole chapter as many false statements
as this much and perhaps over-praised historian contrives to condense in
a single sentence. For apart from the inherent impossibility of anyone
who was "rude, repulsive and discourteous" arriving at the dignity of
General of the Society, it is absolutely false that Father Nickel "was
deposed from his office and was explicitly told that he had forfeited
his authority." Far from this being the case, it was he who had summoned
the congregation in order to lay before it the urgent necessity of his
being relieved from the heavy burden of his office. On its assembling,
the first thing he did was to ask for a Vicar because his infirmities
and his age--he was then seventy-nine years old--made it impossible for
him to fulfill the duties of his office, or even to take part in the
proceedings of the congregation. Moreover, it is absolutely calumnious
to say that the congregation explicitly declared that he had forfeited
all his authority. Even Ranke, who makes the charge, declares that he
was guilty of no transgression; nor was the action of the congregation
in defining the Vicar's position as "not being in conjunction with that
of the retiring General," anything else than a desire to avoid having
the Society governed by two heads. Nor did this denote "a change in the
Society's methods;" for there had been a provision in the constitution
from the very beginning for even the deposition of a general. Again, far
from being repulsive in his manners, the congregation proclaimed him to
have been the very opposite. Indeed, all his brethren sympathized with
him, especially at that moment, because, besides the usual burden of his
office and his age, he was afflicted by the sad news which had just
reached him that three of the Fathers who were delegates to the
congregation--the Vice-Provincial of Sardinia and his two
associates--had been shipwrecked at the mouth of the Tiber. The words of
the congregation's acceptance of his withdrawal denote nothing but the
deepest reverence and affection. They are: _Congregatio obsequendum
duxit voluntati charissimi optimeque meriti Parentis_, that is, "The
congregation deemed it proper to comply with the desire of the most
beloved and most deserving Father."
Böhmer-Monod, likewise, in spite of their joint claim to sincerity and
lack of bias, are especially denunciatory of the character of the
Society at this juncture. "It is no longer," they say, "an autocracy,
but a many-headed oligarchy, which defends its rights against the
General as jealously as did the Venetian nobles against the doges. The
military and monastic spirit has relaxed and a spirit of luxurious
idleness and greed of worldly possessions has taken its place. Not only
the writings of the enemies of the Jesuits, but the letters of their own
Generals go to prove it. Thus, Vitelleschi wrote, in 1617, that the
reproach of money-seeking was a universal one against the Society.
Nickel also sent a grand circular letter to recall the Order to the
observance of Apostolic poverty. Indeed, John Sobieski, a devoted friend
of the Order, could not refrain from writing to Oliva: 'I remark with
great grief that the good name of the Society has much to suffer from
your eagerness to increase its fortune without troubling yourselves
about the rights of others. I feel bound, therefore, to warn the Jesuits
here against their passion for wealth and domination, which are only too
evident in the Jesuits of other countries. Rectors seek to enrich their
colleges in every way. It is their only thought.' But these reproaches
made no impression on Oliva who was a sybarite leading an indolent life
at the Gesù or in his beautiful villa of Albano. Even if he were the
proper kind of man, he would have been powerless, for, in 1661 Goswin
Nickel was deposed solely because of his rigidity towards the most
influential members of the Order. The Constitution of the Order was
changed, for Oliva was made General because he had humored the nepotism
of the Pope."
The answer to this formidable arraignment is:--First, the General of the
Society cannot be an autocrat. He must rule according to the
Constitutions; failing in this, he may be deposed by the general
congregation. Secondly, the society can never be ruled by an oligarchy,
especially by "an oligarchy with many heads" which is a contradiction in
terms. The only oligarchy possible would be the little group around the
General known as the assistants, representing the different national or
racial sections of the Society. But they are invested with no authority
whatever. They are merely counsellors, are elected by the Congregation,
and _ipso facto_ lose their office at the death of the General, though
of course they hold over until the election of his successor. The
metaphor of the Venetian nobles and the doges has no application in the
Society of Jesus.
Nor is it true that after Vitelleschi's death, "it lost its monastic
spirit" for the simple reason that it never had that spirit. The Jesuits
are not monks and their official designation in ecclesiastical documents
is _Clerici Regulares Societatis Jesu_ (Clerks, or Clerics, Regular of
the Society of Jesus). It is precisely because they broke away from old
monastic traditions and methods that they were so long regarded with
suspicion by the secular and regular or monastic clergy, especially as
the innovation was made at the very time that Martin Luther was
furiously assailing monastic orders. If, however, by "the monastic
spirit" is meant the religious spirit, and that is possibly the meaning
of the writers, it will not be difficult to show that piety and holiness
of life had not departed from the Society. For instance, some of the
greatest modern ascetic writers appeared just at that time in the
Society. Thus, Suárez died in 1617, and Lessius in 1623, both of whom
may some day be canonized saints. To the latter, St. Francis de Sales
wrote to acknowledge his spiritual indebtedness to the Society. Living
at that time also were Bellarmine, Petavius, Nieremberg, Layman, Castro
Palao, Surin, Nouet, de la Colombiére, and others equally spiritual.
Álvarez de Paz died in 1620, Le Gaudier in 1622, Drexellius in 1630,
Louis Lallemant in 1635, Lancisius in 1636, de Ponte in 1644, Saint-Jure
in 1657. Meantime, the famous work on "Christian Perfection" by
Rodríguez, who died in 1616, had been making its way to every religious
house in Christendom. There was also a great number of holy men in the
Society at that moment. Had that not been the case, Cardinal Orsini, who
died in 1627, would not have asked for admission; nor Charles de
Lorraine, Prince Bishop and Count of Verdun, who had entered a few years
before; nor would the Pope have made the great Hungarian Pazmany a
cardinal in 1616, and Pallavicini in 1659. Blessed Bernardino Realini
was not yet dead; St. John Berchmans was living in 1621; and St. Peter
Claver died in 1654, before his adviser St. Alphonsus Rodríguez; St.
John Francis Regis made his first vows in 1633, and Vitelleschi himself
is admitted to have been a man of extraordinary sanctity. A religious
order with such members is the reverse of decadent.
The "military spirit" which the Society was reproached with having lost
was no doubt the daring "missionary spirit" which won her so much glory
in the early days. But it was by no means lost. Andrada made his famous
journey to Tibet in 1624; de Rhodes started about 1630 on his famous
overland trip from India to Paris, and then set off for Persia where he
died; the missionaries of North America were exploring Hudson Bay and
the Great Lakes and searching for the Mississippi; those of South
America were following the wonderful Vieira through thousands of miles
of forests and along endless rivers in Brazil; others were searching the
Congo or Gold Coast or Abyssinia for souls; Jerónimo Xavier and de
Nobili were in India; others again in Persia and the Isles of Greece;
and Ricci and Schall and their companions were converting China. There
were martyrdoms all over the world, like those of Brébeuf and his
companions in Canada; Jesuits were laying down their lives in Mexico,
Paraguay, the Caribbean Islands, the Philippines, Russia, England,
Hungary, and above all in Japan, where every member of the Society was
either butchered or exiled; while thousands of their brethren in Europe
were clamoring to take their places in the pit or at the stake. That
condition of things would not seem to connote degeneracy or decadence.
As for the "grand circular letter," which Father Nickel sent out to the
whole Society, that document was nothing but an academic disquisition on
the relative importance of poverty as against the two other vows. It was
not a censure of the Society for its non-observance of poverty. With
regard to Sobieski, it is impossible to imagine that he ever uttered
such a calumny against his most devoted friends. They had trained him
intellectually and spiritually; just before the great battle with the
Tatars, he spent the whole night in prayer with his Jesuit confessor,
Przeborowski, and in the morning he and all his soldiers knelt to
receive the priest's blessing. Finally, when the bloody battle was won,
they knelt before the altar, at the feet of the same priest, and intoned
a hymn of thanksgiving to God for the glorious victory. When
Przeborowski died, Father Vota took his place, and it was he who induced
the hero to join the League of Augsburg, thus helping him to win the
glory of being regarded as the saviour of Europe, when on September 12,
1683, he drove back the Turks from the gates of Vienna. As Sobieski died
in Vota's arms, it is not very likely that he ever regarded his
affectionate friends as "greedy and rapacious."
What Böhmer-Monod says regarding Vitelleschi's encyclical to the Society
on the occasion of his election is equally unjustifiable. Not only does
the General not denounce the Society for its degeneracy, but he
explicitly says, "Although I am fully aware that there is still in the
body of the Society the same spirit that animated it at the beginning,
and moreover, that this spirit not only actually persists, but is
conspicuously robust and full of life and vigor; nevertheless, as each
one desires to see what he loves absolutely and in every respect
perfect, we should all, from the highest to the lowest, strive to the
utmost to have it free from the slightest stain or wrinkle. To urge this
is the sole purpose of this epistle." Later on he says, "There are three
things which help us to conserve this spirit: prayer, persecution and
obedience." The second, at least, has never failed the Society.
That there was no such decadence or degeneracy later is placed beyond
all possibility of doubt by a man whose integrity cannot for a single
moment be questioned: Father John Roothaan, General of the Society, who
wrote to all his brethren throughout the world concerning the third
century in the life of the Order. Had he made any misstatement, he would
have been immediately contradicted. As for his competency in the
premises it goes without saying that no one had better means than he for
becoming acquainted with the condition of the Society at that period. He
testifies as follows:
"When the Society began its third centenary, it was flourishing and
vigorous as it always has been in literature, theology, and eloquence;
it engaged in the education of youth with distinguished success, in some
countries without rivals; in others it was second almost to no other
religious order; its zeal for souls was exercised in behalf of men of
every condition of life not only in the countries of Europe, Catholic
and Protestant alike, but among the savages of the remotest part of the
world, nor was the commendation awarded them less than the fruit they
had gathered; and what is most important, amid the applause they won and
the favors they were granted, their pursuit of genuine piety and
holiness was such, that although in the vast number of more than twenty
thousand then in the Society there may have been a few, a very few, who
in their life and conduct were not altogether what they should have
been, and who in consequence brought sorrow on that best of mothers, the
Society, nevertheless there were very many in every province who were
conspicuous for sanctity and who diffused far and wide the good odor of
Jesus Christ. It waged a bitter war against error and vice; it fought
strenuously in defence of Holy Church and the authority of the See of
Peter; it displayed a ceaseless vigilance in detecting the new errors
which then began to show themselves, and whose object was to overturn
the thrones of kings and princes and to revolutionize the world; and it
bent every one of its energies of voice, pen, counsel and teaching to
refute and as far as possible to destroy those pernicious doctrines.
Hence it was sustained and favored by the Sovereign Pontiffs and by the
hierarchy of the Church and its authority was held in the highest esteem
by princes and people alike. It seemed like a splendid abiding-place of
science and piety and virtue; an august temple extending over the earth,
consecrated to the glory of God and the salvation of souls."
The characterization of Oliva, by Böhmer-Monod as "a sybarite leading an
indolent life at the Gesù or in his beautiful villa at Albano," is
nothing else than an outrage. Sybarites do not live till the age of
eighty-one; nor are they summoned to fill the office of "Apostolic
Preacher" by four successive Popes--Innocent X, Alexander VI, Clement
IX, and Clement X; nor do they write huge folios of profound theology;
nor do they act as advisers to popes, kings, and princes; nor could they
govern fifteen or twenty thousand men scattered all over the world, all
of whom looked up to them as saints. Such in fact was this really great
man, and falsehood could scarcely go further, than to pillory him in
history as a degraded voluptuary. As for his luxurious villa, it will
suffice to say that the individual who conceived that idea of a Jesuit
country-house, never saw one. It is never luxurious; but always shabby,
bare and poor.
The whole available income of the English province at this period
(1625-1743) may be found in Foley's "Records" (VII, pt. I, xviii), and
is quoted in Guilday's "English Refugees" (I, 156). "The entire revenue
in 1645 for colleges, residences, seminaries under their charge, as well
as fourteen centres in England and Wales is recorded at something like
£3915. This sum maintained 335 persons, which at the present rate of
money would be at £34.10 per head. In 1679 after the Orange Rebellion
this sum was reduced." What was true of the English province, may also
in great measure be predicated of the rest, especially of the one in
which the General resided.
Another curious instance of this systematic calumniation is found in the
preface of a volume of poems of Urban VIII, edited in 1727 by a
professor of Oxford, who was prompted to publish them, we are informed,
"because the poems would be an excellent corrective of the obscenity and
unbridled licentiousness of the day." But while thus extolling the Pope,
this heretical admirer of His Holiness, goes on to say that the Pontiff
was particularly beloved by Henry IV, and when that monarch was attacked
by an assassin, "the Jesuits, the authors of the execrable deed, were
expelled from the kingdom, and a great pillar was erected to perpetuate
their infamy. Whereupon Urban, who was then Cardinal Barberini, was sent
to France, and induced Henry to destroy the pillar, and recall the
Jesuits without inflicting any punishment on them."
For a person of ordinary intelligence, the conclusion would be that
Barberini recognized that the Society had been grossly calumniated; if
not, he had a curious way of showing his affection for the King by
bringing back his deadly enemies and destroying the pillar. The author
of this effusion also fails to inform his readers that Pope Urban VIII
was a pupil of the Jesuits; that during all his life he was particularly
attached to the Order; that one of his first acts after ascending the
pontifical throne was to raise Francis Borgia to the ranks of the
beatified; that the Jesuit, Cardinal de Lugo, was his particular
adviser, and that in the reform of the hymnody of the Breviary, he
entrusted the work exclusively to the Jesuits. With regard to the
expulsion of the Society from France, Henry IV had no hand in it
whatever. That injustice is to be laid to the score of the parliament of
Paris over which Henry had no control. Far from being an enemy he was
the devoted and affectionate friend of the Society, as well he might be,
for it was the influence of the Spanish Jesuit, Cardinal Toletus, that
made it possible for him to ascend the throne of France.
Long before his election as General, Oliva had achieved considerable
reputation as an orator; and, as his correspondence shows, he was held
in the highest esteem by many of the sovereigns of Europe for his wisdom
as a counsellor. Unfortunately, however, nearly all the trouble that
occurred in his time originated in the courts of kings. Thus in France,
Louis XIV made his confessor, Father François Annat, a member of his
council on religious affairs, with the result that when the king fell
out with the Pope, Annat's position became extremely uncomfortable; but
it is to his credit that he effected a reconciliation between the king
and the Pontiff. After Annat, François de Lachaise was entrusted with
the distribution of the royal patronage, and, of course, stirred up
enmity on all sides. In Portugal, Don Pedro insisted upon Father
Fernandes being a member of the Cortes; but Oliva peremptorily ordered
him to refuse the office. In Spain, the queen made Father Nithard, her
confessor, regent of the kingdom, and, German though he was, grand
inquisitor and councillor of state. When he resisted, she appealed to
the Pope, and the poor man was obliged to accept both appointments. Of
course he aroused the opposition of the politicians and resigned. The
queen then sent him as ambassador to Rome, and on his arrival there, the
Pope made him a cardinal. He wore the purple for eight years and died in
1681. The saintly Father Claude de la Colombiére, the spiritual director
of the Blessed Margaret Mary, also enters into the category of "courtier
Jesuits." He was sent to England as confessor of the young Duchess of
York, Mary Beatrice of Este, and though he led a very austere and
secluded life in the palace, he was accused of participation in the
famous Titus Oates plot, about which all England went mad; and although
there was absolutely no evidence against him, he was kept in jail for a
month, and in 1678 was sent back to France.
It was Father Petre's association with James II of England that gave
Oliva most trouble. He was not the confessor, but the friend of the
king, who had taken him out of the prison to which Titus Oates had
consigned him. James wanted to make him grand almoner, and when Oliva
protested, Castlemain, the English ambassador at Rome, was ordered to
ask the Pope to make him a bishop and a cardinal. When that was
prevented an attempt was made to give him a seat in the privy councils.
Crétineau-Joly not only questions Petre's sincerity in these various
moves, but accused the English provincial of collusion. Pollen, however,
who is a later and a better authority, insists that, if we cannot aquit
Petre of all blame, it is chiefly because first-hand evidence is
deficient. Petre made no effort to defend himself but the king
completely exonerated him. The king's evidence, however, counted for
nothing in England with his Protestant subjects. The feeling against
Petre was intense and William of Orange fomented it for political
reasons, and the most extravagant stories were accepted as true; such,
for instance, as that the Jesuits were going to take possession of
England, or that the heir-apparent was a supposititious infant. Finally,
when James fled to France, Petre followed him and remained by his side
till the end. "He was not a plotter," says Pollen, "but an easy-going
English priest who was almost callous to public opinion." It is
perfectly clear that he had nothing to do with the foolish policies of
James. On the contrary, he had done everything in his power to thwart
them. "Had I followed his advice," James admitted to Louis XIV, "I would
have escaped disaster."
A romantic figure appears at this time in the person of John Casimir,
who after many adventures ascended the throne of Poland. In spite of the
remonstrances of his mother he not only refused to dispute the claim of
his elder brother, but espoused his cause, fought loyally for his
election and was the first to congratulate him when chosen. He then
withdrew from Poland and we find him, first, as an officer in the
imperial army, and at the head of a league against France. Afterwards,
while in command of a fleet in the Mediterranean, he was driven ashore
near Marseilles by a storm; he was recognized and kept in prison for two
years, but was finally released at the request of his brother. In
passing by Loreto, on his way home, the fancy of becoming a Jesuit
seized him. He applied for admission and was received, but left three or
four years afterwards, and, though not in orders, was made a cardinal.
When the news of his brother's death arrived, he returned the red hat to
the Pope and set out for Poland to claim the crown, and simultaneously
that of Sweden. The latter pretence, of course, meant war with Gustavus
Adolphus, who forthwith invaded Poland, but Casimir drove him out and
also expelled the Prussians from Lithuania. Probably on account of the
dissensions in his own country which gave him occupation enough, he
ceased to urge his rights to the throne of Sweden, and after some futile
struggles relinquished that of Poland likewise.
In the Convocation of Warsaw where he pronounced his abdication, he is
said to have made the following utterance which sounds like a prophecy
but which may have been merely a clever bit of political foresight.
"Would to God," he exclaimed "that I were a false prophet, but I foresee
great disasters for Poland. The Cossack and the Muscovite will unite
with the people who speak their language and will seize the greater part
of Lithuania. The frontiers of Greater Poland will be possessed by the
House of Brandenburg; and Prussia, either by treaty or force of arms,
will invade our territory. In the dismemberment of our country, Austria
will not let slip the chance of laying hands on Cracow." John was the
last representative of the House of Vasa. He was succeeded by Michael,
who reigned only three years (1669-72) and then the great Sobieski was
elected after he and his 20,000 Poles had routed an army of 100,000
Tatars--an exploit which made him the country's idol as well as its
king.
In becoming General, Oliva inherited the suffering inflicted on the
Society by the English persecutions which had been inaugurated by
Elizabeth and continued by James I. A lull had occurred during the reign
of Charles I, probably because the queen, Henrietta Maria, was a
Catholic; and in 1634 there were as many as one hundred and sixty
Jesuits in the British dominions; but Cromwell was true to his
instincts, and, between the time of the Long Parliament and the
Restoration of the Stuarts, twenty-four Catholics died for the Faith.
Naturally, the Jesuits came in for their share. Thus Father James Latin
was put in jail on August 3, 1643, and was never heard of afterwards.
"From which," says O'Reilly, "it is easy to conjecture his fate."
William Boyton was one of the victims in a general massacre that took
place in 1647, in the Cashel Cathedral; and two years afterwards, John
Bathe and Robert Netterville were put to death by the Cromwellians in
Drogheda. Bathe was tied to a stake and shot, while Netterville, who was
an invalid, was dragged from his bed, beaten with clubs and flung out on
the highway. He died four days afterwards.
The Stuarts were restored in 1660, but the easy-going Charles II made no
serious effort to erase the laws against Catholics from the
statute-book, and from time to time proclamations were issued ordering
all priests and Jesuits out of the realm. Two occasions especially
furnished pretexts for these expulsions. One was the "Great Plague," and
the other was the "Great Fire," for both of which the Jesuits were held
responsible. No one knew what was going to happen next, when there
appeared in England an individual to whom Crétineau-Joly devotes
considerable space, but who receives scant notice from English writers.
He announced himself as Hippolyte du Chatelet de Luzancy. He was the son
of a French actress, and was under indictment for forgery in his native
country; added to these attractions, founded or not, he claimed to be an
ex-Jesuit. Of course, he was received with great enthusiasm by the
prelates of the Established Church, for he let it be known he was quite
willing to accept any religious creed they might present to him. The
Government officials also welcomed him. His first exploit was to accuse
Father Saint-Germain, the Duchess of York's confessor, of entering his
apartment with a drawn dagger and threatening to kill him. Whereupon all
England was startled and the House of Lords passed a bill consigning all
priests and Jesuits to jail. Saint-Germain was the first victim. Luzancy
was then called before the privy council and told a blood curdling story
of a great conspiracy that was being hatched on the Continent. It
implicated the king and the Duke of York. The story was false on the
face of it, but Luzancy was taken under the protection of the Bishop of
London; he was given the degree of Master of Arts by Oxford and was
installed as the Vicar of Dover Court, Essex. A most unexpected defender
of the Society appeared at this juncture in the person of Antoine
Arnauld, the fiercest foe of the Jesuits in France. He denounced Luzancy
as an imposter, and berated the whole English people for accepting the
conspiracy myth. His indignation, however, was not prompted by any love
of the Society, but because Luzancy claimed to have lived for a
considerable time with the Jansenists and with Arnauld, in particular,
at Port-Royal.
It was probably the success achieved by Luzancy that suggested the
greater extravagances of Titus Oates. Titus Oates was a minister of the
Anglican Establishment, and first signalized himself in association
with his father, Samuel, who also wore the cloth, by trumping up an
abominable charge against a certain Protestant schoolmaster, for which
the father lost his living, and the son was sent to prison for trial.
Escaping from jail, Titus became a chaplain on a man-of-war, but was
expelled from the navy in a twelve-month. He then succeeded in being
appointed Protestant chaplain in the household of the Duke of Norfolk
and was thus brought into contact with Catholics. He promptly professed
to be converted and was baptized on Ash-Wednesday 1677. The Jesuit
provincial was induced to send him to the English College at Valladolid,
but the infamous creature was expelled before half a year had passed.
Nevertheless, he was granted another trial and was admitted to the
Seminary of St. Omers, which soon turned him out of doors.
Coming to London, he took up with Israel Tonge who is described as a
"city divine and a man of letters," and together they devised the famous
"Popish Plot," each claiming the credit of being its inventor. It
proposed: first, to kill "the Black Bastard," a designation of Charles
II which they said was in vogue among Catholics. His majesty was to be
shot "with silver bullets from jointed carbines." Secondly, two
Benedictines were to poison and stab the queen's physician, "with the
help," as Titus declared, "of four Irish ruffians who were to be hired
by Doctor Fogarthy." The Prince of Orange, the Lord Bishop of Hertford
and several minor celebrities were also to be put out of the way.
Thirdly, England, Ireland and all the British possessions were to be
conquered by the sword and subjected to the Romish obedience. To achieve
all this, the Pope, the Society of Jesus and their confederates were to
send an Italian bishop to England to proclaim the papal programme.
Subsequently, Cardinal Howard was to be papal legate. Father White, the
Jesuit provincial, or Oliva, Father General of the Order, would issue
commissions to generals, lieutenant generals, naval officers. When the
king was duly assassinated, the crown was to be offered to the Duke of
York, after he had approved of the murder of his royal brother as well
as the massacre of all his Protestant subjects. Whereupon the duke
himself was to be killed and the French were to be called in. The Jesuit
provincial was to be made Archbishop of Canterbury, and so on.
No more extravagant nonsense could have been conceived by the
inhabitants of a madhouse. Nevertheless, "all England," says Macaulay,
"was worked up into a frenzy by it. London was placed in a state of
siege. Train bands were under arms all night. Preparations were made to
barricade the main thoroughfares. Patrols marched up and down the
streets, cannon were planted in Whitehall. Every citizen carried a
flail, loaded with lead, to brain the popish assassins, and all the
jails were filled with papists. Meantime Oates was received in the
palaces of the great and hailed everywhere as the saviour of the
nation." The result of it all was that sixteen innocent men were sent to
the gallows, among them seven Jesuits: William Ireland, John Gavan,
William Harcourt, Anthony Turner, Thomas Whitebread, John Fenwick and
David Lewis, besides their illustrious pupil, Oliver Plunket, Archbishop
of Armagh. As the saintly prelate has been beatified by the Church as a
martyr for thus shedding his blood, inferentially one might claim a
similar distinction for all his companions. On the list are one
Benedictine, one Franciscan and six secular priests. The Earl of
Stafford who was sentenced like the rest to be hanged, drawn and
quartered was graciously permitted by his majesty to be merely beheaded.
For these murders Oates was pensioned for life, but in 1682 Judge
Jeffries fined him one hundred thousand pounds for _scandalum magnatum_
and condemned him to be whipped, pilloried, degraded and imprisoned for
life. "He has deserved more punishment," said the judge, "than the law
can inflict." But when William of Orange came to the throne he pardoned
the miscreant and gave him a pension of three hundred pounds.
In his "Popish Plot," Pollock continually insists, by insinuation rather
than by direct assertion, that Oates was a novice of the Society. Thus,
we are told that he was sent to the "Collegio de los Ingleses at
Valladolid to nurse into a Jesuit;" and subsequently "the expelled
novice was sent to complete his education at St. Omers." But, in the
first place, a "Collegio" at Valladolid or anywhere else can never be a
novitiate, for novices are forbidden all collegiate study; secondly, St.
Omers in France was a boys' school and nothing else; thirdly, the
description of Oates by the Jesuit Father Warner absolutely precludes
any possibility of his ever having been admitted as a novice or even as
a remotely prospective candidate.
Warner's pen picture merits reproduction. Its general lines are: "Mentis
in eo summa stupiditas; lingua balbutiens; sermo e trivio; vox stridula,
et cantillans, plorantis quam loquentis similior. Memoria fallax, prius
dicta numquam fideliter reddens; frons contracta; oculi parvi et in
occiput retracti; facies plana, in medio lancis sive disci instar
compressa; prominentibus hic inde genis rubicundus nasus; os in ipso
vultus centro, mentum reliquam faciem prope totam æquans; caput vix
corporis trunco extans, in pectus declive; reliqua corporis hisce
respondentia; monstro quam homini similiora." In English this means
that the lovely Oates "was possessed of a mind in which stupidity was
supremely conspicuous, a tongue that stuttered in vulgar speech; a voice
that was shrill, whining, and more of a moan than an articulate
utterance; a faulty memory that could not recall what had been said; a
narrow forehead, small eyes, sunk deep in his head; a flat face
depressed in the middle like a plate or a dish; a red nose set between
puffy cheeks; a mouth so much in the centre of his countenance that the
chin was almost as large as the rest of the features; his head bent
forward on his chest; and the rest of his body after the same build,
making him more of a monster than a man." If the English provincial
could for a moment have ever dreamed of admitting such an abortion into
the Society, he would have verified his name of Father Strange. On the
other hand it was natural for the fanatics of that time to adopt Oates.
During Oliva's administration, and in spite of his protests, Father
Giovanni Salerno and Francisco Cienfuegos were made cardinals; under
Peter the Great a few Jesuits were admitted to Russia, but the terrible
Czar was fickle and drove out his guests soon after. There was also some
missionary success in Persia, where 400,000 Nestorians were converted
between the years 1656 and 1681, the date of Oliva's death.
Charles de Noyelle, a Belgian, was now appointed Vicar; and at the
congregation which assembled in 1682 he was elected General, receiving
every vote except his own. He was then sixty-seven years old. His first
task was to adjust the difficulty between Innocent XI and Louis XIV on
the question of the _régale_, or the royal right to administer the
revenues of a certain number of vacant abbeys and episcopal sees claimed
by the kings of France. Such invasions of the Church-rights by the State
were common extending as far back as the times of St. Bernard. By 1608
the French parliament had extended this prerogative to the whole of
France; but the upright Henry IV, half Protestant though he was, refused
to accept it; whereas later on the Catholic Louis XIV had no scruples
about the matter, and issued an edict to that effect. The Pope protested
and refused to send the Bulls to the royal nominees for the vacant
dioceses, with the result that at one time there were thirty sees in
France without a bishop. Only two prelates stood out against the king
and, strange to say, one of them was Caulet, the Jansenist Bishop of
Pamiers; who, stranger still, lived on intimate terms with the Jesuits.
So far the Jesuits had kept out of the controversy, but, unfortunately,
Father Louis Maimbourg published a book in support of the king, and,
eminently distinguished though he was in the field of letters,
especially in history, he was promptly expelled from the Society. The
king angrily protested and ordered Maimbourg not to obey, but the
General stood firm and Maimbourg severed his connection with his former
brethren. As substantially all the bishops were arrayed against the
Pope, copies of the Bull against Louis were sent to the Jesuit
provincials for distribution. The situation was most embarrassing, but
before the copies were delivered, they were seized by the authorities.
In retaliation for the Bull, the king took the principality of
Benevento, which was part of the patrimony of the Church, and thus drew
upon himself a sentence of excommunication. As this document would also
have been refused by the bishops, it was entrusted to a Jesuit Father
named Dez, who was on his way from Rome to France.
For a Frenchman to be the bearer of a Bull excommunicating his king,
especially such a king as Louis XIV, was not without danger; but Dez was
equal to the task. He directed his steps in such a leisurely fashion
towards Paris that his brethren in Italy had time to appeal to the Pope
to withdraw the decree. Fortunately the Pope yielded, and the
excommunication was never pronounced; much to the relief of both sides.
It would probably have ended in a schism; as a matter of fact it
provoked the famous Assembly of the Clergy of 1682 which formulated the
Four Articles of the Gallican Church. These Articles were then approved
by the king and ordered to be taught in all theological schools of
France--a proceeding which again angered the Sovereign Pontiff, who
refused to confirm any of the royal nominees for the vacant bishoprics.
The contest now became bitter, and it is said that Father Lachaise,
whether prompted by the king or not, wrote to the General asking him to
plead with the Pope to transmit the Bulls. That brought down the Papal
displeasure not only on Lachaise personally but on all the Jesuits of
France.
In 1689 the Pope died, and the king, who was by this time alarmed at the
lengths to which he had gone, suggested that each of the bishops whom he
had named should write a personal letter to the new Pontiff, Alexander
VIII, disclaiming the acts of the Assembly of the Clergy of 1682.
Subsequently, the king himself sent an expression of regret for having
made the Four Articles obligatory on the whole kingdom; he thus
absolutely annulled the proceedings of the famous gathering. The régale,
however, was and is still maintained as a right in France whether it
happens to be monarchical or republican. At present, it holds all church
property but has nothing to say about episcopal appointments.
In 1685 the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes was issued. It cancelled
all the privileges granted to the Huguenots by Henry IV, and Protestants
were given the choice either of renouncing their creed or leaving the
country. The result was disastrous industrially, as France was thus
deprived of a great number of skilled workmen and well-to-do merchants;
in addition fictitious conversions were encouraged. As usual, the
Jesuits were blamed for this measure by the Calvinists and Jansenists,
and in retaliation the states general of Holland imposed the most
outrageous taxes on the forty-five establishments which the Society
possessed in that little country, hoping thereby to compass their ruin.
But the sturdy Netherlanders drew up a formal protest and demanded from
the government an explanation of why men of any religious views, even
foreigners, should find protection in Holland while native Dutchmen were
so unfairly treated. The claim was allowed, but the antagonism of the
government, inspired as it was by William of Orange, who recognized that
hostility to the Order was a good recommendation to his English
subjects, was not laid aside. It was vigorous twenty years later.
The Vicar-Apostolic of Holland, who was titular Archbishop of Sebaste,
had long been scandalizing the faithful by his heretical teachings. He
was finally removed by the Holy See; but against this act the government
of the states general protested, and ordered the Jesuits to write to
Rome and ask for the rehabilitation of the vicar. The plea was that by
doing so, they would restore peace to the country which was alleged to
have been very much disturbed by the Papal document. The refusal to do
so, they were warned, would be regarded as evidence of hostility to the
government. De Bruyn, the superior, wrote to the Pope in effect, but
instead of asking for the vicar's rehabilitation, he thanked the Holy
Father for removing him. The consequence was that on June 20, 1705,
three months after they had been told to write, the forty-five Jesuit
houses in Holland were closed, and the seventy-four Fathers took the
road of exile, branded as disturbers of the public peace.
It was during the Generalate of Father de Noyelle, that Innocent XI is
said to have determined to suppress the Society by closing the
novitiates. This is admitted, even by Pollen, and is flourished in the
face of the Jesuits by their enemies as a mark of the disfavor in which
they are held by that illustrious Pontiff. The assertion is based on a
Roman document, the condemnatory clause of which runs as follows: "The
Father General and the whole Society should be forbidden in the future
to receive any novices, or to admit anyone to simple or solemn vows,
under pain of nullity or other punishment, according to the wish of His
Holiness, until they effectually submit and prove that they have
submitted to the decree issued with regard to the aforesaid missions."
Crétineau-Joly or his editor points out in a note that this is not a
papal document at all. The Pope would never address himself as "His
Holiness," nor tell himself what he should do. It was simply an
utterance of the Propaganda, in which body the Society did not lack
enemies. It was dated 1684, and in the very next year its application
was restricted by the Propaganda itself to the provinces of Italy. It
was never approved by the Holy See, and when it was presented to
Innocent XI under still another form, namely to prevent the reception of
novices in Eastern Asia, he flatly rejected it.
Louis XIV had lost the Netherlands to Spain and in a fit of childish
petulance he insisted that the Jesuit province there on account of being
half Walloon should be annexed to the French assistancy. When this
demand was disregarded he ordered the French Jesuits who were in Rome to
return to France, as he proposed to make the French part of the Society
independent of the General. He was finally placated by a promise that
men who had been superiors in France proper, should be chosen to fill
similar positions in the Walloon district. It was a very silly
performance.
Tirso González, a Spaniard, was chosen as the successor of de Noyelle in
1687. He had taught theology at Salamanca for ten years, and had been a
missionary for eleven. He is famous for his antagonism to the doctrine
known as Probabilism, as he advocated Probabiliorism. Probabilism is
that system of morals according to which, in every doubt that concerns
merely the lawfulness or unlawfulness of an action, it is permissible to
follow a solidly probable opinion, in favor of liberty, even though the
opposing view is more probable. This freedom to act, however, does not
hold when the validity of the sacraments, the attainment of an
obligatory end, or the established rights of another are concerned.
González maintained with considerable bitterness that, even apart from
the three exceptions, it was permitted to follow only the more probable
opinion--a doctrine which is now almost universally rejected.
During the Generalate of Oliva, González had written a book on the
subject, which was twice turned down by all the censors; whereupon, he
appealed to Pope Innocent XI in 1680 asking him to forbid the teaching
of Probabilism. The Pope did not go so far, but he permitted it to be
attacked. Of course, González strictly speaking had a right to appeal to
the Sovereign Pontiff, but it was a most unusual performance for a
Jesuit, especially as the doctrine in question was only a matter of
opinion, with all the great authorities of the Society against him. It
must have been with dismay that his brethren heard of his election as
General by the thirteenth general congregation. It appears certain,
says Brucker in his history of the Society (p. 529), that on the eve of
the election the Pope expressed his opinion that González was the most
available candidate. That evidently determined the suffrage, though
González seems to have had no experience as an administrator.
One of the first things the general did was to start a campaign against
the doctrines of Gallicanism, as formulated in the famous Assembly of
1682, which every one thought was already dead and buried. His friend,
Pope Innocent XI, died in August, 1689, and his successor Alexander VIII
ordered González to call in all the copies that had been printed. In
1691 González began to print his book which Oliva had formerly
forbidden. It was run through the press in Germany without the knowledge
of his assistants; copies appeared in 1694, and threw the Society into
an uproar, especially as González's appeared on the title page as
"Former Professor of Salamanca and actual General of the Society of
Jesus." Nevertheless, at the general congregation which met in 1697
Father González was treated with the profoundest consideration. Not a
word was uttered about his doctrine and assistants who were most
acceptable to him were elected. Although a few more probabiliorists
subsequently appeared, the Society, nevertheless, remained true to the
teaching of Suárez, Lugo, Laymann, and their school.
A quarrel then arose between Don Pedro II of Portugal and Cardinal
Conti, the papal nuncio, about the revenues of certain estates. The
question was referred to González, who decided in favor of the Pope,
whereupon Pedro's successor, John V, closed all the Jesuit novitiates in
Portugal and banished some of the Fathers from the country. González
died before this affair was settled. He passed away on October 27,
1705, in the eighty-fourth year of his age. He had been a Jesuit for
sixty-three years, and during nineteen years occupied the post of
General.
Father Michael Angelo Tamburini was the fourteenth General; his tenure
of office extended from January 30, 1706, till his death on February 28,
1730. He was a native of Modena, and had filled several important
offices with credit, before he was chosen to undertake the great
responsibility of governing the entire Order, at the age of fifty-eight.
The troubles in France were increasing. For although the implacable
leaders of the Jansenist party, Arnauld and Nicole, had disappeared from
the scene--Arnauld dying at Malines, a bitter old man of eighty-three,
and Nicole soon following him to the grave--yet the antagonism created
by them against the Society still persisted and was being reinforced by
the atheists, who now began to dominate France.
Quesnel, who succeeded Arnauld and Nicole, wrote a book entitled "Moral
Reflections on the New Testament", the style of which quite captivated
de Noailles, Bishop of Châlons-sur-Marne, and without adverting to its
Jansenism he gave it his hearty approval. Later however, when he became
Archbishop of Paris, he condemned another Jansenist publication whose
doctrine was identical with the one he had previously recommended;
whereupon an anonymous pamphlet calling attention to the contradiction
was published; in it the cardinal was made to appear in the very
unpleasant attitude of stultifying himself in the eyes of the learned.
He accused the Jesuits of the pamphlet, whereas, it was the work of
their enemies, and was written precisely to turn him against the
Society. The situation became worse when other members of the hierarchy
began to comment on his approval of the Jansenistic publication, and he
was exasperated to such an extent that he suspended every Jesuit in the
diocese. The Jansenists were naturally jubilant over their success, and
began to look forward hopefully to the approaching death of Louis XIV,
who had never wavered in his defense of the Society. His successor, the
dissolute Philip of Orléans, could be reckoned on as their aid, they
imagined, but they were disappointed. He began by refusing their
petition to revoke the university rights of the Jesuits and although he
dissolved all the sodalities in the army, he lodged a number of
Jansenists in jail for an alleged conspiracy against the government, a
measure which they, of course, attributed to the machinations of the
Society.
It was during this Generalate that the Paraguay missions reached their
highest degree of efficiency. In a single year no fewer than
seventy-seven missionaries left Europe to co-operate in the great work.
Meantime, Francis Hieronymo and Anthony Baldinucci were astonishing
Italy by their apostolic work, as was Manuel Padial in Spain--all three
of whom were inscribed later on the Church's roll of honor. Finally, the
canonization of Aloysius and Stanislaus Kostka along with the
beatification of John Francis Régis put the stamp of the Church's most
solemn approval on the Institute of Ignatius Loyola. Father Tamburini
died at the age of eighty-two. He had lived sixty-five years as a
Jesuit; and at his death, the Society had thirty-seven provinces with
twenty-four houses of professed, 612 colleges, 340 residences, 59
novitiates, 200 mission stations, and 157 seminaries. Assuredly, it was
doing something for the Church of God.
Francis Retz, a Bohemian, was the next General. His election, which took
place on March 7, 1730, was unanimous; and his administration of twenty
years gave the Society a condition of tranquillity such as it had never
enjoyed in its entire history. Perhaps, however, there would have been
a shade of sorrow if the future of one of the Jesuits of those days
could have been foreseen. Father Raynal left the Society in 1747 and
joined the Sulpicians. Subsequently he apostatized from the Faith,
became the intimate associate of Rousseau, Diderot and other atheists
and died at an advanced age apparently impenitent. Before Father Retz
expired, two more provinces had been added to the thirty-seven already
existing; the colleges had increased to 669; the seminaries to 176 and
there were on the registers 22,589 members of whom 11,293 were already
priests. During this period several great personages, who were to have
much to do with the fortunes of the Society, began to assume prominence
in the political world. They were Frederick the Great of Prussia, Maria
Theresa of Austria, the Duc de Choiseul in France, and Carvalho, Marquis
de Pombal in Portugal.
Eight months after the death of Father Retz which occurred on November
19, 1750, the Society chose for its General Ignatius Visconti, a
Milanese. He was at that time sixty-nine years of age and survived only
two years. He was succeeded by Father Louis Centurione, who, besides the
burden of his seventy years of life, had to endure the pain of constant
physical ailments. In two years time, on October 2, 1757, he breathed
his last, and on the 21st of May following, Lorenzo Ricci was elected.
According to Huonder, the choice was unanimous, but the digest of the
nineteenth congregation states that he was elected by a very large
majority.
Who was Ricci? He was a Florentine of noble blood, and was born on
August 3, 1703. He was, therefore, fifty-three years of age when placed
at the head of the Society, whose destruction he was to witness fifteen
years later. From his earliest youth, he had attracted attention by his
unusual intellectual ability as well as by his fervent piety. He had
been professor of Rhetoric at the colleges of Siena and Rome to which
only brilliant men were assigned, and at the end of his studies he was
designated for what is called the "Public Act," that is to say an
all-day defense of a series of theses covering the entire range of
philosophy and theology. He subsequently taught theology for eleven
years and was spiritual father at the Roman College. The latter office
brought him in contact with the most distinguished prelates of the
Church, who chose him as the guide of their consciences. In 1755 Father
Centurione called him to the secretaryship of the Society, and he was
occupying that post when elected General. The regret is very often
expressed that a General of the stamp of Aquaviva was not chosen at that
time; one who might have been equal to the shock that was to be met.
Hence, the choice of a man who had never been a superior in any minor
position is sometimes denounced as fatuous. One distinguished enemy is
said to have exclaimed when he heard the result of the balloting:
"Ricci! Ricci! Now we have them."
It must not, however, be forgotten that the battle which brought out
Aquaviva's powers bears no comparison with that which confronted Father
Ricci. Against Aquaviva were ranged only the Spanish Inquisition, a
small number of recalcitrant Spanish Jesuits, and to a certain extent,
Philip II. But in the first place, the Spanish Inquisition had no
standing in Rome; in the second, the Jesuits who were in opposition had
all of them a strain in their blood, which their fellow countrymen
disliked; and, finally, though Philip II would have liked to have had
his hand on the machinery of the Society he was at all times a staunch
Catholic. Against this coalition, Aquaviva had with him as enthusiastic
supporters all the Catholic princes of Germany and they contributed
largely to his triumph. Father Ricci, on the contrary, found arrayed
against the Society the so-called Catholic kings: Joseph I of Portugal;
Charles III of Spain and Joseph II of Austria, all of them absolutely in
the power of Voltairean ministers like Pombal, de Choiseul, Aranda,
Tanucci and Kaunitz, who were in league, not only to destroy the
Jesuits, but to wreck the Church. The suppression of the Society was
only an incident in the fight; it had to be swept out of the way at any
cost. A thousand Aquavivas would not have been able to avert it. Two
Popes succumbed in the struggle.
Carayon, in his "Documents inédits," describes Father Ricci as "timid,
shy, and lacking in initiative." Among the instances of his timidity,
there is quoted his reprehension of Father Pinto, who had of his own
accord asked Frederick II to pronounce himself as a defender of the
Society. Of course, he was sternly reproved by Father Ricci and properly
so, for one cannot imagine a more incongruous situation than that of the
Society of Jesus on its knees to the half-infidel friend of Voltaire,
entreating him to vouch for the virtue and orthodoxy of the Order.
Frederick himself was very much amused by the proposition.
In any case, the fight was too far advanced to afford any hope of its
being checked. Eight years before that time, Pombal had made
arrangements with Spain to drive the Jesuits out of Paraguay, and had
extorted from the dying Benedict XIV the appointment of Saldanha to
investigate the Jesuits of Portugal. Indeed, it was soon discovered that
Pombal's performances were only a part of the general plot to destroy
the Society and the Church.
As soon as Benedict's successor ascended the papal throne, Father Ricci
laid a petition before him representing the distress and injury
inflicted on the Society by what was going on in Portugal. Crimes which
had no foundation were attributed to it, and all of the Fathers, whether
guilty or not, had been suspended from their priestly functions. The
petition could not have been more humble or more just, but it brought
down a storm on the head of Father Ricci. The sad feature of it was
that, although it was intended to be an absolutely secret communication,
it was immediately circulated with notes throughout Europe, and a fierce
_votum_, or protest, was issued against it by Cardinal Passionei, who
denounced it as an absolutely untruthful and subtle plea to induce the
Holy Father to hand over the rest of his flock to the ferocious wolves
(the Jesuits). The cardinal stated that the King of Portugal had
complained of the Jesuits, and that Cardinal Saldanha was a person
capable of obtaining the best information about the case, and was
absolutely without bias or animosity for any party, besides being known
for his ecclesiastical zeal and his submission to the head of the
Church.
Far from being influenced by this utterance of Passionei, Pope Clement
XIII appointed a congregation to examine the question; the report was
favorable to the Society, so that Pombal was momentarily checked. On the
other hand, it was very clear that the battle was not won. A false
report of the proceedings of the congregation was published, and
although the Pope ordered it to be burned by the public executioner, it
was, nevertheless, an open proclamation that the enemies of the Society
were willing to go to any lengths to gain their point. Portuguese gold
flowed into Rome and Mgr. Bottari was employed to revive all the ancient
calumnies against the Society. In a short time, he produced a work
called "Reflections of a Portuguese on the Memorial presented to His
Holiness Clement XIII by the Jesuits." When there was question of
putting the book on the Index, Almada, the Portuguese ambassador
declared that if such a proceeding were resorted to Portugal would
secede from the Church. Furthermore, when the Papal Secretary of State,
Achito, wrote a very mild and prudent letter to the nuncio in Lisbon,
instructing him to let the king know that the petition of the Jesuits
was very humble and submissive, he was denounced as issuing a
declaration of war against Portugal. Meantime, the author of the
"Reflections" continued to pour out other libellous publications in Rome
itself, and Papal prohibitions were powerless to prevent him.