LOYOLA AND HIS DISCIPLES.
The day after the proscribed stranger and friend of Robert Estienne had
found an asylum in the home of Christian, the latter sallied forth after
dark with his friend Justin for the purpose of inspecting the abandoned
quarry where the two expected to be able to set up their secret press.
The secluded spot was also expected speedily to serve as the trysting
place for the leaders of the Reformation in Paris. The late moon was
rising when the two artisans arrived in the neighborhood of the Abbey of
Montmartre. They struck a road to the left of the church, leading to a
hillock crowned with a cross. Arrived there they descended a steep path
at the bottom of which was the entrance to the quarry.
"Unless the recollections of my childhood deceive me," said Justin to
Christian, "I'm under the impression that this quarry formerly had two
openings--one being this, through which we are about to enter, the
other, the issue of a sort of underground gallery, located at the
opposite slope of the hill, and through which the descent is steep down
to the bottom of the quarry. I even recall that a portion of the
gallery bore traces of some very ancient masonry."
"It probably is one of those places of refuge that, centuries ago, were
dug into the bowels of the earth by the inhabitants of these regions, in
the days of the invasions of the Northman pirates."[11]
"Quite probable. At the same time, seeing it is well to be prepared for
all emergencies, this quarry can be rendered an all the safer meeting
place for our friends of the Reformation by placing a watchman at each
entrance. The alarm being given from either side, escape could then be
safely made by the other. The agents of the Criminal Lieutenant have a
hundred eyes and as many ears. We cannot take too many precautions."
"If your recollections are correct, that double entrance would be a
priceless fact. The meeting place would be doubly guarded."
"We can easily make sure of that," said Justin. Saying this he fumbled
in his pocket for his tinder and flint, while Christian drew out of his
pocket the butt of a candle that he had provided himself with for the
occasion.
The jagged opening of the grotto was overhung by an abutting ledge of
lime rock, covered with a few inches of earth overgrown with briars and
furze. A rather abrupt path led to the species of platform that lay
under the beetling rock. The two artisans stepped in. They did not light
their candle at first for fear it would be extinguished by the wind. But
after having groped their way through the dark for a few paces, they
struck a light, and presently the feeble flame of the candle threw its
light into the wide though low-arched cavern. A huge boulder, about five
or six feet high and from eight to ten through, that doubtlessly had
been loosened and dropped from the walls of the cave, seemed to mark the
further extremity of the underground walk.
"I now remember the place exactly," said Justin; "the inside opening of
the gallery that I spoke of to you must be on the other side of the
stone. Let's move on. We are on the right path."
Saying this, and followed by his friend, Justin stepped into a narrow
space left between the natural wall and the boulder. Suddenly they heard
the noise of footsteps and the voices of several persons drawing near
from the side of the opening through which they had themselves shortly
before entered the cavern. As much surprised as alarmed, the first
motion of Justin was to extinguish the candle, and approaching his lips
to the ear of Christian he whispered: "Let us not budge from this spot.
We may here remain unseen, should these people come this way."
The two artisans held their breath and remained motionless in their
hiding place, wondering with as much astonishment as anxiety who it
might be that was resorting at so late an hour to so solitary a spot.
The personages who penetrated into the quarry had also equipped
themselves with lighting materials. One of them lighted a large wax
candle, the reddish glare of which illuminated the features of the new
arrivals, seven in number. The one who came in last, cast around him
soon as the torch was lighted, looks indicative of the retreat being
familiar to him. He walked with difficulty, and he stooped low as he
leaned upon a heavy staff much resembling a crutch. Yet he seemed to be
a man in the maturity of life. Black, threadbare and shabby clothes
outlined his tall and robust stature. A Spanish ruff of doubtful white
set off his long and olive-hued visage that terminated in a pointed
beard. His head was almost bare of hair. His dominating eyes, his
imperious brow, the haughty carriage of his head--all imparted to his
strongly marked physiognomy the impression of absolute inflexibility.
That personage stepped forward. It was Ignatius Loyola.
His six companions were James Lainez, a Spaniard; Alfonso Salmeron,
Inigo of Bobadilla, and Rodriguez of Azevedo, Portuguese; Francis
Xavier, a French nobleman; and lastly, Peter Lefevre, a native of the
mountains of Savoy, the same who, for ten years, had been the intimate
friend of Christian Lebrenn.
Francis Xavier held the lighted wax candle. Lefevre carried on his
shoulder a large bundle. Motionless and mute the six disciples of Loyola
fixed their eyes upon their master, not in order to discover his
thoughts--they were incapable of such audacity--but in order to
forestall his will, whatever it might be.
Looking around in silent contemplation of the interior of the grotto,
Loyola broke the silence in a solemn voice: "I greet thee, secret
retreat, where, as formerly in the cavern of Manres, I have often
meditated, and matured my purposes!" He then sat down upon a nearby
stone, crossed his hands over his staff, leaned his chin upon his hands,
let his eyes travel slowly over his disciples, who, impassive as statues
stood beside him, and, after an instant of silent meditation resumed:
"My children, I said to you this evening: 'Come!' You came, ignorant of
whither I was leading you. Why did you follow me? Answer, Xavier. To
hear one of my disciples is to hear them all--to hear one of them
to-day, is to hear all those who are to follow them from age to age--all
will be but the distant echoes of my thought."
"Master, you said to us: 'Come!' We came. Command, and you shall be
obeyed."
"Without inquiring whither I led you; without even seeking to ascertain
what I might demand of you? Answer, Lefevre."
"Master, we followed you without reflecting--without inquiring."
"Why without reflecting, without inquiring? Answer, Lainez."
"The members of the body obey the will that directs them; they do not
interrogate that will; they obey."
"Xavier," resumed Loyola, "plant your candle in some interstice of that
boulder. Lefevre, deposit your bundle at your feet. It contains your
sacerdotal vestments and the articles necessary to celebrate the holy
sacrifice of the mass."
Francis Xavier planted the lighted candle firmly between two stones.
Lefevre deposited his bundle on the ground. The other disciples remained
standing, their eyes lowered. Still keeping his seat, and with his chin
resting on the handle of his staff, Loyola resumed:
"Francis Xavier, when I first met you on the benches of the
University--what was then your nature? What were your habits?"
"Master, I was passionately given to the pleasures of life."
"And you, Inigo of Bobadilla?"
"Master, all obstacles upset me. I was weak and pusillanimous. My spirit
lacked energy. My nature was cowardly and springless."
"And you, John Lainez?"
"Master, I had excessive confidence in myself. Extreme vanity--"
"And you, Rodriguez of Azevedo?"
"Master, my heart ran over with tenderness. A touching act, an
affectionate word, was enough to bring the tears to my eyes. I was kind
to all, was ever eager to run to the help of our fellow men. I was of a
confiding and accessible nature."
"And you, Alfonso Salmeron?"
"Master, pride dominated me. I was proud of my vigor of bone and of my
intelligence. I deemed myself a superior man."
"And you, John Lefevre?"
"Master, my mountaineer tenacity never looked upon any obstruction but
to overcome it. I brooked no contradiction."
"Aye! Such were you. And what are you now? Answer, John Lefevre. To hear
one of you is to hear all the rest."
"Master, we are no longer ourselves. Your soul has absorbed ours. We are
now the instruments of your will. We are the body, you the spirit. We
are submissive slaves, you the inflexible master. We are the clubs, you
the hand. Without your animating breath we are but corpses."
"How did you arrive at this complete self-effacement? In what manner was
the absorption of your personalities in mine effected?"
"Master, the study of your _Spiritual Exercises_ effected the miracle."
Loyola seemed satisfied. With his chin resting upon his two hands
crossed over the head of his heavy staff, he remained silent for a
moment. Presently he resumed: "Yes, that you were; now you are this. And
I myself, what was I, and what have I become? I shall tell you. I was a
haughty Grandee of Viscaya, a handsome cavalier, a valiant captain, a
daring seducer, and lucky swordsman. The hand of God suddenly smote me
in war and rendered me a cripple. Great was my despair! To renounce
women, dueling, horses, the battle, the command of my regiment, which I
had broken in, drilled and fashioned by military discipline! Nailed to a
couch of tortures, which I welcomed in the hope of removing my
deformity, I was seized by Grace! I felt myself full of strength and of
energy. I was possessed of an invincible craving for dominion. At that
juncture the Holy Ghost said to me: 'Devote thyself to the triumph of
the Catholic Church. Thy dominion shall extend in the measure of thy
faith.' I then asked myself what services could I render the Catholic
Church. I looked around me. What did I see? The spirit of Liberty, that
pestilential emanation of a fallen humanity, everywhere at war with
Authority, that sacred emanation of Divinity. I promised to myself to
curb the spirit of Liberty with the inflexible curb of Authority,
identically as I had formerly subjugated indomitable horses. The goal
being set, what were the means to reach it? I looked for them. I wished
first to experiment upon myself, to determine upon myself the extent to
which, sustained by faith in the idea a man pursues, he can shake off
his former self. Rich by birth, I begged my bread; a haughty Grandee, I
exposed myself to outrage; a skilful swordsman, I submitted to insult;
sumptuous in my habits of dress, careful of my personal appearance, I
have lived in rags and in the gutter. Ignorant of letters, I took my
seat at the age of thirty among children on the benches of the Montaigu
College, where any slight inattention was visited upon me with the whip.
Some of my purposes, being detected by orthodox priests, earned for me
their persecution and I was ostracised. I stood it all without a murmur.
From that time, certain that I could demand from my disciples the
sacrifices I imposed upon myself, I made you that which you are required
to be. You have said it. You are the members, I the spirit; you are the
instrument, I the will. The hour for action has come; our work calls us.
What work is that?"
"That work is the insurance of the reign of authority upon earth."
"What authority?"
"Master, there is but one. The authority of God, visibly incarnated in
His vicar, the Pope, who is in Rome."
"Do you understand by that the spiritual or the temporal authority?"
"Master, he who has authority over the soul must have authority over the
body also. He who dictates the Divine law must dictate the human law
also."
"What must the Pope be?"
"Pontiff and Emperor of the Catholic world."
"Who, under him, is to govern the nations?"
"The clergy."
"Must temporal authority, accordingly, also belong to the Roman Catholic
and Apostolic Church?"
"All authority flows from God. His ministers are by divine right the
masters of the nations, and must be invested with full authority."
"Is that, then, the work in hand?"
"Yes, master."
"Are there any obstacles to its accomplishment?"
"Enormous ones."
"What are they?"
"First of all, the Kings."
"Next?" queried Loyola impatiently. "Next?"
"The indocility of the bourgeois classes."
"Next?"
"The new heresy known by the name of the Reformation."
"Next?"
"The printing press, that scourge that every day and everywhere spreads
its ravages."
"Next?"
"The too publicly scandalous habits of the ecclesiastics."
"And lastly?"
"Often the ineptness, the feebleness, the insatiable cupidity and the
excesses of the papacy."
"These, then, are the obstacles to the absolute rule of the Catholic
world by her Church?"
"Yes, master."
"Is it possible to overcome these obstacles?"
"We can, master, provided your spirit speaks through our mouths, and
your will dictates our actions."
"All honor to the Lord--let's begin with the Kings. What are they with
regard to the Popes?"
"Their rivals."
"What should they be?"
"Their first subjects."
"Would it not be preferable for the greater glory and security of the
Catholic Church that royalty were abolished?"
"That would be preferable."
"How are Kings to be absolutely subordinated to the Popes? Or, rather,
how is royalty to be destroyed?"
"By causing all its subjects to rise against it."
"By what process?"
"By unchaining the passions of an ignorant populace; by exploiting the
old commune spirit of the bourgeoisie; by fanning the hatred of the
seigneurs, once the peers of Kings in feudal days; by setting the people
against one another."
"Is there a last resort for the riddance of Kings?"
"The dagger, or poison."
"Do you understand by that that a member of the Church may and has the
right to stab a King; may and has the right to poison a King?"
"Master, it is not the part of a monk to kill a King, whether openly or
covertly. The King should first be paternally admonished, then
excommunicated, then declared forfeit of royal authority. After that
_his execution falls to others_."[12]
"And who is it that declares Kings forfeit of royal authority, and thus
places them under the ban of mankind, and outside the pale of human and
divine law?"
"Either the people's voice, or an assembly of priests and theologians,
or the decision of men of sense."[13]
"Suppose royal authority is overthrown by murder, or otherwise, will not
the power thereby fall either into the hands of the nobility and the
seigneurs, or into those of the bourgeoisie, or into the hands of the
populace?"
"Yes, but only for a short interval. If the power falls into the hands
of the populace, the seigneurs, that is, the nobility and the
bourgeoisie, are to be turned against the populace. If the power should
fall into the hands of the bourgeoisie, then the populace and the
nobility are to be turned against the bourgeoisie; finally, in case the
power falls into the hands of the nobility, the bourgeoisie and the
populace are to be turned against the nobility."
"Civil war being over, what will be the state of things?"
"All powers being annihilated, the one destroyed by the other, only the
Catholic Church will remain standing, imperishable."
"You spoke of operating upon the populace, upon the bourgeoisie, upon
the nobility, to the end of using these several classes for the
overthrow of royal power, and subsequently of letting them loose against
one another. What lever will you operate upon them?"
"The direction of their conscience, especially that of their wives,
through the confessional."
"In what manner do you expect to be able to direct their conscience?"
"By establishing maxims so sweet, so flexible, so comfortable, so
complaisant to men's passions, vices and sins that the larger number of
men and women will choose us for their confessors, and will thereby hand
over to us the direction of their souls.[14] To direct the souls of the
living is to secure the empire of the world."
"Let us consider the application of this doctrine," said Loyola.
"Suppose I am a monk, you, I suppose," he added addressing his disciples
successively, "are my confessor. I say to you: 'Father, it is forbidden,
under penalty of excommunication, to doff, even for an instant, the garb
of our Order. I accuse myself of having put on lay vestments.'"
"'My son,' I would answer," responded one of the disciples of Ignatius,
"'let us distinguish. If you doffed your religious garb in order not to
soil it with some disgraceful act, such as going on a pickpocket
expedition, or patronizing a gambling house, or indulging in debauchery,
you obeyed a sentiment of shame, and you do not then deserve
excommunication.'"[15]
"Now," resumed Loyola, "I am a trustee, under obligation to pay a life
annuity to someone or other, and I desire his death that I may be free
of the obligation; or, say, I am the heir of a rich father, and am
anxious to see his last day--I accuse myself of harboring these
sentiments."
"'My son,' I would answer, 'a trustee may, without sin, desire the death
of those who receive a pension from his trust, for the reason that what
he really desires is, not the death of his beneficiary, but the
cancellation of the debt. My son,' I would answer the penitent, 'you
would be committing an abominable sin were you, out of pure wickedness,
to desire the death of your father; but you commit no manner of sin if
you harbor the wish, not with parricidal intent, but solely out of
impatience to enjoy his inheritance.'"[16]
"I am a valet, and have come to accuse myself of acting as go-between in
the amours of my master, and, besides, of having robbed him."
"'My son,' I would answer, 'to carry letters or presents to the
concubine of your master, even to assist him in scaling her window by
holding the ladder, are permissible and indifferent matters, because, in
your quality of servant, it is not your will that you obey, but the will
of another.[17] As to the thefts that you have committed, it is clear
that if, driven by necessity, you have been forced to accept wages that
are too small, you are justified in recouping your legitimate salary in
some other way.'"[18]
"I am a swordsman. I accuse myself before the penitential tribunal of
having fought a duel."
"'My son,' I would answer, 'if in fighting you yielded, not to a
homicidal impulse, but to the legitimate call to avenge your honor, you
have committed no sin.'"[19]
"I am a coward. I rid myself of my enemy by murdering him from ambush.
I come to make the admission to you, my confessor, and to ask
absolution."
"'My son,' I would answer, 'if you committed the murder, not for the
sake of the murder itself, but in order to escape the dangers which your
enemy might have thrown you into, in that case you have not sinned at
all. In such cases it is legitimate to kill one's enemy in the absence
of witnesses.'"[20]
"I am a judge. I accuse myself of having rendered a decision in favor of
one of the litigants, in consideration of a present made to me by him."
"'Where is the wrong in that, my son?' I would ask. 'In consideration of
a present you rendered a decision favorable to the giver of the gift.
Could you not, by virtue of your own will, have favored whom you
pleased? You stand in no need of absolution.'"[21]
"I am a usurer. I accuse myself of having frequently derived large
profits from my money. Have I sinned according to the law of the
Church?"
"'My son,' I would answer, 'this is the way you should in future conduct
yourself in such affairs: Someone asks a loan of you. You will answer:
"I have no money to loan, but I have some ready to be honestly invested.
If you will guarantee to reimburse me my capital, and, besides that, to
pay me a certain profit, I shall entrust the sum in your hands so that
you may turn it to use. But I shall not loan it to you."[22] For the
rest, my son, you have not sinned, if, however large the interest you
may have received from your money, the same was looked upon by you
simply as a token of gratitude, and not a condition for the loan.[23] Go
in peace, my son.'"
"I am a bankrupt. I accuse myself of having concealed a considerable sum
from the knowledge of my creditors."
"'My son,' I would answer, 'the sin is grave if you retained the sum out
of base cupidity. But if your purpose was merely to insure to yourself
and your family a comfortable existence, even some little luxury, you
are absolved.'"[24]
"I am a woman. I accuse myself of having committed adultery, and of
having in that way obtained considerable wealth from my paramour. May I
enjoy that wealth with an easy conscience?"
"'My daughter,' I would answer, 'the wealth acquired through gallantry
and adultery has, it is true, an illegitimate source. Nevertheless, its
possession may be considered legitimate, seeing that no human or divine
law pronounces against such possession.'"[25]
"I have stolen a large sum. I accuse myself of the theft, and ask for
your absolution."
"'My son,' I would answer, 'it is a crime to steal, unless one is driven
thereto by extreme necessity; and even less so if grave reasons prompt
the act.'"[26]
"I am rich, but I give alms sparingly, if at all. I accuse myself."
"'My son,' I would answer, 'charity towards our fellows is a Christian
duty. Nevertheless, if superfluity is needed by you, you commit no sin
by not depriving yourself of those things which, in your eyes, are
necessaries.[27] I absolve you.'"
"I coveted a certain inheritance. I accuse myself of having poisoned the
man from whom I was to inherit. May I retain the property?"
"'My son,' I would answer, 'the possession of property, acquired by
unworthy means, and even through manslaughter, is legitimate, so far as
possession is concerned. You may retain the property.'"[28]
"I am summoned to take an oath. My conscience forbids, my interest
orders me to commit perjury. You are my confessor. I wish to consult you
on the matter."
"'You can, my son, reconcile your interest and your conscience. This
way--I suppose you will be asked: "Do you swear you did not commit such
and such an act?" You will answer aloud: "I swear before God and man
that I have not committed that act," and then you add mentally: "_On
such and such a day_." Or, you are asked: "Do you swear you will never
do such or such a thing?" You will answer: "I swear," and mentally you
add: "_Unless I change my mind; in which case I shall do the
thing_."'"[29]
"I am an unmarried woman. I have yielded to a seducer. I fear the anger
and reproaches of my family."
"'My daughter,' I would answer, 'take courage. A woman of your age is
free to dispose of her body and herself. Have all the lovers you please.
I absolve you.'"[30]
"I am a woman, passionately addicted to gambling. I accuse myself of
having purloined some moneys from my husband, in order to repay my
losses at the gaming table."
"'My daughter,' I would answer, 'seeing that, between man and wife,
everything is, or ought to be, in common, you have not sinned by drawing
from the common purse.[31] You may continue to do so. I absolve you.'"
"I am a woman. I love ornaments. I accuse myself."
"'My daughter,' I would answer, 'if you ornament yourself without impure
intentions, and only in order to satisfy your natural taste for
ornamentation, you do not sin.'"[32]
"I accuse myself of having seduced the wife of my best friend."
"'My son,' I would answer, 'let us distinguish: If you treacherously
seduced the woman just because she was the wife of your best friend,
then you have sinned. But if you seduced her, as you might have done any
other woman, you have not outraged friendship.[33] It is a natural thing
to desire the possession of a handsome woman. You have not sinned. There
is no occasion for absolution.'"
"Well done!" exclaimed Loyola. "But I notice you grant absolution for
all that human morality and the Fathers of the Church condemn."
"Master, you said: 'Absolved penitents will never complain.'"
"What is the object of the complaisance of your doctrines in all
circumstances?"
"At this season an incurable corruption reigns among mankind. Rigor
would estrange them from us. Our tolerance for their vices is calculated
to deliver the penitents to us, body and soul. By leaving to us the
direction of their souls, this corrupt generation will later relinquish
to us the absolute education of their children. We will then raise those
generations as may be suitable, by taking them in charge from the cradle
to the grave; by molding them; by petrifying them in such manner that,
their appetites being satisfied, and their minds for all time delivered
from the temptation of those three infernal rebels--Reason, Dignity and
Freedom--those generations will bless their sweet servitude, and will
be to us, master, what we are to you--servile slaves, body and soul,
mere corpses!"
"Among the obstacles that our work will, or may encounter, you mentioned
the papacy."
"Yes, master, because the elections of the sacred college may call to
the pontifical throne Popes that are weak, stupid or vicious."
"What is the remedy at such a juncture?"
"To organize, outside of the papacy, of the college of cardinals, of the
episcopacy, of the regular clergy and of the religious Orders, a society
to whose members it shall be strictly forbidden ever to be elected Pope,
or to accept any Catholic office, however high or however low the office
may be. Thus this society will ever preserve its independence of action
for or against the Church, free to oppose or uphold its Chief."
"What shall be the organization of that redoubtable society?"
"A General, elected by its own members, shall have sovereign direction
over it."
"What pledge are its members to take towards him?"
"Dumb, blind and servile obedience."
"What are they to be in his hands?"
"That which we are in yours, O, master! Instruments as docile as the
cane in the hand of the man who leans upon it."
"What will be the theater of the society's work?"
"The whole world."
"Into what parts will it divide the universe?"
"Into provinces--the province of France, the province of Spain, the
province of Germany, the province of England, the province of India, the
province of Asia, and others. Each will be under the government of a
'provincial,' appointed by the General of the society."
"The society being organized, what name is it to assume?"
"The name of the SOCIETY OF JESUS."
"In what manner is the Society of Jesus to become a counterpoise to the
papacy, and, if need be, dominate the papacy itself, should the latter
swerve from the route it should pursue in order to insure the absolute
government of the nations of the world to the Catholic Church?"
"Independent of the established Church, from whom it neither expects nor
demands aught--neither the purple, nor the cross, nor benefices--the
Society of Jesus, thanks to its accommodating and tolerant doctrines,
will speedily conquer the empire of the human conscience. It will be the
confessor of Kings and lackeys, of the mendicant monk and the cardinal,
of the courtesan and the princess, the female bourgeois and her cook, of
the concubine and the empress. The concert of this immense clientage,
acting as one man under the breath of the Society of Jesus, and inspired
by its General, will insure to him such a power that, at a given moment,
he will be able to dictate his orders to the papacy, threatening to
unchain against it all the consciences and arms over which he disposes.
The General will be more powerful than the Pope himself."
"Besides its action upon the conscience, will the Society of Jesus
dispose over any other and secondary levers?"
"Yes, master, and very effective ones. Whosoever, whether lay or
clerical, poor or rich, woman or man, great or small, will blindly
surrender his soul to the direction of the Society of Jesus, will always
and everywhere, and against whomsoever, be sustained, protected,
favored, defended and held scathless by the Society and its adherents.
The penitent of a Jesuit will see the horizon of his most ardent hopes
open before him; the path to honors and wealth will be smoothed before
his feet; a tutelary mantle will cover his defects, his errors and his
crimes; his enemies will be the Society's enemies; it will pursue them,
track them, overtake them and smite them, whoever and wherever they may
be, and with all available means. Thus the penitent of a Jesuit may
aspire to anything. To incur his resentment will be a dread ordeal."
"Accordingly, you have faith in the accomplishment of our work?"
"An absolute faith."
"From whom do you derive that faith?"
"From you, master; from you, Ignatius Loyola, whose breath inspires us;
from you, our master, him through whom we live."
"The work is immense--to dominate the world! And yet there are only
seven of us."
"Master, when you command, we are legion."
"Seven--only seven, my sons--without other power than our faith in our
work."
"Master, faith removes mountains. Command."
"Oh, my brave disciples!" exclaimed Ignatius Loyola rising and
supporting himself with his staff. "What joy it is to me to have thus
imbued you with my substance, and nourished you with the marrow of my
doctrine! Be up! Be up! The moment for action has come. That is the
reason I have caused you to gather this evening here at Montmartre,
where I have so often come to meditate in this hollow, this second to
that cavern of Manres, where, in Spain, after long years of
concentration, I at last perceived the full depth, the immensity of my
work. Yes, in order to weld you together in this work, I have broken,
bent and absorbed your personalities. I have turned you into instruments
of my will as docile as the cane in the hand of the man who leans upon
it. Yes, I have captured your souls. Yes, you are now only corpses in my
hands. Oh, my dear corpses! my canes! my serfs! my slaves! glorify your
servitude. It delivers to you the empire of the world! You will be the
masters of all the men! You will be supreme rulers of all the women!"
Loyola's disciples listened to him in devout silence. For a moment he
remained steeped in the contemplation of his portentous ambition,
meditating universal domination. Presently he proceeded:
"We must prepare ourselves by means of the holy sacrifice of the mass
for the last act of this great day. We must receive the body of Jesus,
we who constitute his intrepid militia! We the Jesuits!" And addressing
himself to Lefevre: "You have brought with you the necessaries for the
celebration of mass. Yonder rock"--pointing to the boulder behind which
Christian and Justin were concealed--"yonder rock will serve us for
altar. Come, to work, my well-beloved disciple."
Lefevre opened the bundle which he had taken charge of. He drew from it
a surplice, a chasuble, a Bible, a stole, a chalice, a little box of
consecrated wafers, and two small flasks with wine and water. He clothed
himself in sacerdotal garb, while one of the disciples took the wax
candle, knelt down and lighted the improvised altar upon which the other
Jesuits were engaged in disposing the rest of the requisites for the
celebration of the divine sacrifice. It was done before Loyola and his
disciples. The voice of Lefevre, as he droned the liturgy, alone
disturbed the silence of the solitude upon which the wax candle cast a
flickering ruddy glow. The time for communion having come, the seven
founders of the Society of Jesus received the Eucharist with unction.
The service over, Loyola rose again to his feet, and with an inspired
mien said to his disciples:
"And now, come, come."
He walked away, limping and followed by his acolytes, leaving behind
them the religious implements on the block of stone.
Soon as the Jesuits moved away, Christian and Justin cautiously emerged
from their hiding place, astounded at the secret they had just had
revealed to them. Christian could still hardly believe that Lefevre,
one of his oldest friends, and whose sentiments inclined him to the
Reformation, had become a priest, and was one of the most ardent
sectarians of Loyola.
"They are gone," Justin whispered to his companion; "I have not a drop
of blood left in my veins. Let's flee!"
"What imprudence! We might run against those fanatics. I doubt not they
will come back. Let us wait till they have departed."
"No, no! I will not stay here another minute. I am overcome with fear."
"Then let us try to escape by the other issue, which, as you were
telling me, runs behind this rock. Come, be brave!"
"I am not sure whether that passage is not now obstructed. It would be
dangerous to enter it without a light. A light would betray us. Let's
return upon our steps."
More and more frightened, Justin walked rapidly towards the entrance of
the quarry. Christian followed, unwilling to leave him alone. The moment
they were about to emerge from the subterranean cavern, their ears were
struck by the sound of human voices coming from above. The moon was now
high in the sky, and lighted the only path that led to the abbey.
"We can not leave this place without being seen," observed Justin in a
low and anxious voice. "Those men have gathered upon the platform above
the entrance of the cave."
"Listen," said Christian, yielding to an irresistible impulse of
curiosity; "listen, they are talking."
The artisans remained motionless and mute. For a moment a solemn silence
reigned. Presently the voice of Ignatius Loyola reached them as if it
descended from heaven.
"Do you swear?" came from the founder of the Society of Jesus. "Do you
swear in the name of the living God?"
"In the name of God," responded the Jesuits. "We swear! We shall obey
our master!"
"My sons," Loyola's voice resumed solemnly, "from this place you can see
the four cardinal points of that world whose empire I parcel out among
you, valiant soldiers of the Society of Jesus. Down yonder, towards the
north, lie the land of the Muscovite, Germany, England. To you, Germany,
England and the land of the Muscovite--John Lainez."
"Master, your will be done!"
"Yonder, to the east, Turkey, Asia, the Holy Land. To you, Turkey, Asia
and the Holy Land--Rodriguez of Acevedo."
"Master, your will be done!"
"Yonder, towards the west, the new America and the Indies. To you, the
new America and the Indies--Alfonso Salmeron."
"Master, your will be done!"
"Yonder, to the south, Africa, Italy, Spain, Portugal, the islands of
Corsica and Sardinia, and the Balearic Isles. To you, Africa, Italy,
Spain, Portugal, the islands of Corsica and Sardinia and the Balearic
Isles--Inigo of Bobadilla. Behold your empire."
"Master, your will be done!"
"Finally, here at our feet, Paris, the capital of France, a world in
itself. To you, Paris, to you, France--John Lefevre."
"Master, your will be done!"
"Beginning with to-morrow, gird up your loins. Depart, staff in hand,
alone, unknown. To work, soldiers of Jesus! To work, Jesuits! The
kingdom of earth is ours! To-morrow I depart for Rome, to offer or force
upon the Pope our invincible support."
Loyola's voice died away. Hearing the sectarians descending from the
platform, Christian and Justin hurried back to their hiding place,
behind the huge rock upon which were the implements that Lefevre had
used in the celebration of the mass. The latter soon came back, followed
by his companions. He doffed his sacerdotal vestments, and approached
the improvised altar to gather the sacred vessels. So busied, his hand
struck against the chalice, which rolled down and fell behind the rock
at the place where the two artisans were crowding themselves from sight.
John Lefevre walked back of the rock after the chalice which had fallen
close to Christian's feet. The latter saw the Jesuit approach; stoop
down and pick up the vase, without seeming, in the demi-gloom, to notice
his old friend, whom his hand almost touched, and rejoin the other
disciples.
"Lefevre has seen us!" thought Christian to himself. "It is impossible
he should not have noticed us. And yet, not a word, not a gesture
betrayed upon his countenance the astonishment and uneasiness into which
he must have been plunged by our presence at this place, and the
knowledge that we are in possession of the secret of his society."
While Christian was absorbed by these thoughts, Lefevre, ever
imperturbable, returned to his bag the objects which he used in
celebrating the mass, walked out of the cavern with his companions, and
whispered a few words into the ear of Loyola. A slight tremor ran
through the frame of the latter, who, however, immediately recovered his
composure, and whispered back his answer to Lefevre. The latter lowered
his head in token of acquiescence. Thereupon the founder of the Society
of Jesus and his disciples disappeared in the windings of the road and
reached Paris.
Such was the origin of that infernal society.