CHAPTER XIII.

PHILOSOPHISM.

In the earlier period, Spanish orthodoxy seems to have been little

troubled with free-thinking, nor, when this was encountered, does it

seem to have been visited with the same vindictiveness as Protestantism.

From a temporal point of view, it was less dangerous, and the denial of

God was an offence less than the denial of papal supremacy. In an auto

at Toledo, November 8, 1654, there appeared Don Francisco de Vega

Vinero, characterized as "herege apostata, ateista," who escaped with

reconciliation, confiscation, ten years of prison and three years of

exile from Toledo, Madrid and Renedo.[635] The intellectual movement of

the eighteenth century in France, however, could not but awake an echo

in Spain, despite the severity of censorship, and the quarantine at the

ports. There was a steady infiltration of liberalism, political and

spiritual; Spaniards of culture who travelled, or who were sent abroad

on missions, returned with enlarged horizons of thought, and could not

but compare the backwardness of their native land with the activity, for

good or for evil, of the other European nations. The more the writings

of the fashionable philosophers of France were denounced, the greater

became the curiosity to examine them. A reactionary writer tells us that

the works of Filangieri, Rousseau, Mably, Condillac, Pereira, Febronius

(Hontheim) and Scipione de'Ricci had full circulation in the

universities and colleges. Some professors taught many of their

principles, the students were infected and this moral pestilence

extended rapidly without attracting due attention.[636] The Abbé Clément

found, in 1768, that one of the obstacles to the success of his

Jansenizing mission was the secret tolerance and indifferentism; it was

difficult to believe how great were the evidences of incredulity, united

with all the externals of devotion, even under the oppression of

habitual dread of the severity of the Inquisition.[637] Thus, in the

latter half of the eighteenth century, the decadent activity of the Holy

Office found a new heresy to combat, which it styled Philosophism or

Naturalism.

The leading ministers of Carlos III, such as Aranda, Campomanes, Roda

and Floridablanca, were shrewdly suspected of sympathy with these

dangerous speculations, but the time had passed when the Marquis of

Villanueva could be arrested and prosecuted without the assent of the

king. It was safer to make examples of men not thus protected but yet

sufficiently conspicuous to serve as warnings. Such a case was that of

Dr. Luis Castellanos, health-officer of the port of Cádiz--a

free-thinker calling himself a philosopher, an agnostic who professed to

know nothing of God and who probably was indiscreet in airing his

opinions. On his trial by the Seville tribunal he at first denied, but

subsequently he confessed and begged for mercy. On June 30, 1776, an

auto with open doors was held in the chapel of the castle of Triana, at

which were present, doubtless by invitation that could not be declined,

the Duke of Medina Celi, the Count of Torrejon and innumerable other

distinguished personages, at which Castellanos was sentenced to

abjuration and confiscation, to wear a _sanbenito de dos aspas_ and to

serve for ten years in the hospital of the presidio of Oran--a severity

which emphasizes the dread inspired by this negation of opinion.[638]

[Sidenote: _PABLO OLAVIDE_]

Contemporary with this was a case of more far-reaching influence. Pablo

Olavide, a young lawyer of Lima and judge in the Audiencia,

distinguished himself in the terrible earthquake of 1746 and was made

custodian of the treasures dug from the ruins. After satisfying those

who could prove their claims, he employed the remainder in building a

church and a theatre. There were disappointed claimants who carried

their complaints to Madrid. Olavide was summoned thither, disbarred,

condemned to pay various sums and imprisoned. His health failing, he was

allowed to go to Leganes, where he contracted marriage with Isabel de

los Rios, whose two successive husbands had left her large fortunes. He

was remarkably intelligent, brilliant in society, and, with the aid of

his wife's money, he speedily acquired prominent social position. He

travelled and in France he formed relations with Voltaire and Rousseau,

with whom he maintained correspondence. Aranda, who secretly

sympathized with him in this, was then at the height of his power and

became his warm friend, seeking to use his abilities in the projects on

foot to elevate Spain from its condition of poverty and misery.

Practical statesmen had long recognized as a serious evil the baldios,

or extensive and numerous tracts of uncultivated land, useless for all

purposes except as pasturage for the migratory flocks of the _Mesta_,

that powerful combination of sheep-owners who had secured legislation

restricting all cultivation that interfered with their privileges. As

early as 1749 the Marquis of la Ensenada had entertained projects of

introducing colonies of foreigners to occupy these idle lands; in 1766

the idea was revived and _Nuevas Poblaciones_, as they were called, were

established in various places. A contract was made to bring six thousand

German and Swiss Catholics and establish them on the southern slope of

the Sierra Morena, along the main road from Madrid to Cádiz--a wild and

rugged country, the haunt of highway robbers. Campomanes drew up the

plan, under which establishments of the religious Orders were absolutely

prohibited; the settlers were to have pastors of their own race; all

spiritual affairs were to be in the hands of the parish priests, subject

to episcopal jurisdiction, and the dreaded Mesta was not allowed to

intrude. Olavide was appointed superintendent of the colony, and was

also made _assistente_, or governor of Seville.

He threw himself into the project with enthusiasm, labored with

intelligent activity, overcame the initial difficulties and for some

years success seemed assured. Gradually however trouble arose with the

Capuchin friars who had accompanied the colonists as their priests.

Friar Romuald of Freiburg, the prefect of the group, was a disturbing

element, involved in quarrels with the episcopal officials; friction

sprang up between him and Olavide, which developed into hatred, and the

Inquisition furnished ready means for gratifying malevolence. In

September, 1775, Romuald presented a formal denunciation of the

Superintendent as an atheist and materialist, who was in correspondence

with Voltaire and Rousseau, who read prohibited books, denied the

miracles, and held that non-Catholics could be saved. Ample details were

furnished of his irreligious walk and conversation, some of which

indicate the points on which quarrels had arisen--not resorting to

prayer and good works to avert calamities, forbidding the ringing of

bells in tempests, wanting corpses buried in cemeteries rather than in

churches, and defending the Copernican system condemned by the Church.

Olavide's protector, Aranda, had fallen from power in 1773 and the

opportunity was not to be lost by the Inquisition of striking at a man,

conspicuous enough to serve as a terrifying example, and yet who, as a

"kinless loon," had no influential family behind him. Besides, the whole

scheme of the Poblaciones had aroused the hostility of two influential

classes--the friars whose establishments were excluded and the Mesta

whose flocks were not allowed to ravage the fields.

[Sidenote: _PABLO OLAVIDE_]

It shows the decadence of the Inquisition that the royal permission to

prosecute was sought and obtained. Olavide was summoned to court,

towards the end of 1775, on a pretext; after some delay he realized the

situation and sought the protection of Manuel de Roda, then minister of

Gracia y Justicia, who was too vulnerable himself to compromise his own

safety, and who merely wrote to Inquisitor-general Beltran a note

speaking favorably of Olavide. The Madrid tribunal moved with

deliberation, for it was not until November 14, 1776, that Olavide was

arrested. For two years he disappeared from human sight. Seventy-two

witnesses were examined, and the fiscal accumulated a formidable array

of a hundred and sixty-six heretical propositions. He admitted imprudent

talk, while denying all lapse from the faith, but he confessed enough

for the inquisitors to assume that he secretly cherished the opinions of

the fashionable philosophy, and his condemnation was inevitable. We are

told that a public auto was desired, in order to emphasize the warning,

but it was felt that the occasion scarce justified such a solemnity, and

the Roman Inquisition was consulted which suggested that the purpose

would be answered by a private auto with a huge number of spectators. It

was held, November 24, 1778, in the audience-chamber, after

inviting--invitations equivalent to commands--Campomanes and numerous

prominent nobles, statesmen and others who had been connected with

Olavide, or were suspected of philosophism, so that when he was brought

in he found himself surrounded by his friends assembled to witness his

humiliation. For three hours he listened to the long-drawn recital of

all the heretical propositions proved against him by the witnesses, to

which he responded by ejaculating "I never have lost the faith although

the fiscal says so." Then followed the sentence, pronouncing him a

convicted heretic, a rotten member of the Church, and condemning him to

reconciliation, confiscation, and banishment for ever for forty leagues

from Madrid and all royal residences, the kingdoms of Lima, Andalusia

and the colonies of the Sierra Morena, to reclusion for eight years in a

convent and to the customary disabilities for himself and his

descendants to the fifth generation. This tremendous severity so

overcame him that he fell senseless to the floor. A distant convent at

Gerona was selected for his confinement; in 1780, on the plea of

ill-health, he was allowed to visit a watering-place, from which he

escaped to France, not without, it is said, the secret connivance of the

court, although, when his extradition was demanded, he sought safety in

Geneva. With the outbreak of the Revolution he returned to France, where

he narrowly escaped the guillotine; adversity brought a change of heart

and, in 1798, he published anonymously at Valencia his "El Evangelio en

Triunfo, ó Historía de un Filósofo disengañado," which had an enormous

circulation and so impressed Inquisitor-general Lorenzana that he was

allowed to return to Spain. He was offered restoration to his positions,

but he was disillusioned with the world; he retired to Baeza, devoting

himself to good works and dying in 1804.[639]

The Inquisition had not miscalculated the salutary influence of the

example. Don Felipe Samaniego, Archdeacon of Pampeluna, Knight of

Santiago and member of the Royal Council, was one of those constrained

to be present, and was so frightened that the next day he denounced

himself to the tribunal as a reader of prohibited books, of which he

presented a long list. This, he said, had led him to religious doubt

but, on serious reflection, he had resolved to adhere firmly to the

Catholic faith and he asked to be absolved _ad cautelam_. He was turned

to account by being required to submit a sworn statement as to where and

how he had procured the books, how long he had held these views, who had

taught him, with whom had he discussed these matters, and who had

refuted or accepted his opinions. This brought out a detailed confession

compromising almost all the learned and enlightened men of the

court--Aranda, Floridablanca, Campomanes, O'Reilly, Lacy, the Duke of

Almodovar and many others of high position. Prosecutions were instituted

against them all, but the testimony of a single witness was insufficient

and the power of those implicated was so great that the tribunal was

content to let the cases remain in suspense.[640]

Offenders less conspicuous were less fortunate, and numerous cases

attested the resolve of the Inquisition to crush out the new ideas. It

was merciful to Benito Bails, a professor of mathematics and author of a

series of text-books long in use, for a niece was allowed to enter with

him the secret prison and take care of him, as he was aged and crippled

in all his limbs. Before the publication of evidence he confessed to

having entertained doubts as to the existence of God and as to

immortality, but that solitude and reflection had removed them, and that

he was ready to abjure and accept penance. As reclusion in a convent

would have deprived him of the care of his neice, his house was

charitably assigned to him as a prison, with various spiritual

penances.[641] A more suggestive case was that of Doctor Gregorio de

Vicente, professor of philosophy in the University of Valladolid, for

certain theses in which were discovered twenty propositions savoring of

"naturalism," and for a sermon in which he argued that true religion

consisted in the practice of virtue and not in external observance. For

eight years he lay in the secret prison, but it chanced that he had an

uncle who was an inquisitor of Santiago, whose influence induced the

Valladolid tribunal at length, in 1801, to pronounce him insane, while

condemning his propositions. On his release, however, he gave such

evidence of sanity that the tribunal felt obliged to arrest him again

and repeat his trial. This time a year of incarceration sufficed; he

abjured his errors publicly and accepted certain penances.[642]

[Sidenote: _CONSERVATISM AND PROGRESS_]

A case which excited much attention was that of D. Ramon de Salas, a

prominent man of letters and professor in Salamanca, imprisoned in 1796,

on the charge of entertaining the errors of Voltaire, Rousseau and other

exponents of the new philosophy. He admitted that he had read their

works, but only for the purpose of confuting them, which he had done

publicly and in writing. The accounts which have reached us of his trial

differ irreconcileably, but it appears that the prosecution was the

result of private enmity on the part of men high in office, and that

Salas had powerful protectors who induced Carlos IV to evoke the case,

after he had been condemned. This invasion of inquisitorial jurisdiction

led to resistance on the part of Inquisitor-general Lorenzana, which

caused Queen María Luisa to exclaim to him "It is you, hypocrite, and

the like of you who cause the revolutions of Europe." Not only was the

sentence annulled and Salas was liberated, but a royal order was

obtained that in future no arrest should be made without previously

consulting the king. This was duly drawn up, but Vallejo, Archbishop of

Santiago and President of the Council of Castile, one of the enemies of

Salas, had sufficient influence with Godoy to procure its

withdrawal.[643]

This case illustrates the struggle on foot between the forces of

conservatism and progress, in which the Inquisition, as the protagonist

of the former, was not always successful. The propagators of the new

ideas were difficult to silence. Even under Carlos III, we are told that

in 1785-6 there appeared in Saragossa essays scandalizing to the

faithful, for they sought to establish that celibacy is prejudicial to

the State, that vows of religion should be postponed to the age of 24,

that the Church had customs detrimental to the State and that its abuses

and superstitions should be suppressed. Apparently the Inquisition took

no steps to vindicate the faith, and when Fray Diego de Cádiz, at the

request of many ecclesiastics, preached against these subversive

propositions, he was obliged to fly and even then he was pursued by the

wrath of the innovators.[644] Under the anomalous government of Carlos

IV, constant changes in the ministry and the fluctuating whims of his

favorite Godoy, who liked to pose as the patron of letters and

enlightenment, in turns repressed the Inquisition and gave it free rein.

A prominent personage of the time was the Count Francisco Cabarrús, a

French adventurer who founded the Bank of San Carlos and alternated,

like other statesmen of the period, between guiding the destinies of the

nation and a dungeon. After his imprisonment in the castle of Batres, he

relieved his mind in 1792 and 1793 of the thoughts which had accumulated

there, in three letters to Jovellanos, developing in verbose rhetoric

the ideas of Rousseau and the _contrat social_. Education, he argued,

should be universal, but it should be purely secular, and the clergy

should not be allowed to meddle with it, religious training being left

to parents and parish priests. In colleges the studies should be

directed to fitting youth for actual life; the existing universities

were sewers of humanity, whose scholastic theology and teaching of

jurisprudence were equally destructive to the human race. The numbers of

the clergy were enormously excessive, constituting a running sore and a

body subversive of all the principles of morals and statesmanship. There

should be stimulated a holy and virtuous indignation against all the

absurd and apocryphal devotions which pervert reason, destroy virtue and

cause heathendom to ridicule Christianity.[645] For much less than this

many a man, like Olavide, had suffered bitterly but, in 1795, Cabarrús

prefaced these letters with one addressed to Godoy himself as "mi amigo"

and, secure in the protection of the all-powerful favorite, he was

beyond the reach of the Inquisition, showing how uncertain were its

functions during the disastrous period when absolutism was in the hands

of a frivolous courtier.

[Sidenote: _CONSERVATISM AND PROGRESS_]

The feelings of the orthodox towards these innovators are

comprehensively expressed by Fray Francisco Alvarado, the leading

champion of conservatism against the Córtes of 1810. "These

philosophers" he says, "have come to disrupt our union, to disturb our

peace, to embarrass our defence, to distract our attention, to corrupt

our fidelity, to overturn our State, to seize our fortunes, to degrade

our reason, to abolish our religion, to--what shall I say?--to make our

free cities a hell where nothing but blasphemies are heard and where

there is little lacking to replace order with sempiternal horror."[646]

Virulent as is this objurgation, it is but the natural expression of the

passions excited by the struggle in progress, which each side felt to

be a combat to the death. A moderated philosophism, as we shall see,

triumphed in the Córtes of 1810-13 and, although there has followed

nearly a century of vicissitudes, some of them sanguinary, it has, at

least established its right to existence. The Inquisition was not

mistaken in recognizing it, from the first, as its most dangerous

enemy--the embodiment of the modern spirit, destined, for better or

worse, finally to supplant medievalism.

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