_On the Moral Character of the Spanish Jesuits,_ p. 77.
Whatever we may think of the political delinquencies of their
leaders, their bitterest enemies have never ventured to charge the
Order of Jesuits with moral irregularities. The internal policy of
that body precluded the possibility of gross misconduct. No Jesuit
could step out of doors without calling on the superior for leave
and a companion, in the choice of whom great care was taken to vary
the couples. Never were they allowed to pass a single night out of
the convent, except when attending a dying person: and, even then,
they were under the strictest injunctions to return at whatever
hour the soul departed. Nothing, however, can give a more striking
view of the discipline and internal government of the Jesuits than
a case well known in my family, which I shall here insert as not
devoid of interest. A Jesuit of good connexions, and more than common
abilities, had, during a long residence at Granada, become a general
favourite, and especially in a family of distinction where there
were some young ladies. On one of the three days properly named the
Carnival, he happened to call at that house, and found the whole
family indulging with a few intimate friends in the usual mirth of
the season; but all in a private domestic manner. With the freedom
and vivacity peculiar to Spanish females, the young ladies formed a
conspiracy to make their favourite Jesuit stand up and dance with
them. Resistance was in vain: they teased and cajoled the poor man,
till he, in good-natured condescension, got up, moved in the dance
for a few minutes, and retired again to his seat. Years elapsed: he
was removed from Granada, and probably forgot the transient gaiety
into which he had been betrayed. It is well known that the general
of the Jesuits, who made Rome his constant residence, appointed
from thence to every office in the order all over the world. But so
little caprice influenced those nominations, that the friends of the
unfortunate dancer were daily expecting to see him elected provincial
governor of the Jesuits in Andalusia. To their great surprise,
however, the election fell upon a much inferior man. As the elections
were triennial, the strongest interest was made for the next turn.
Pressed on all sides, the general desired his secretary to return a
written answer. It was conceived in these words: “It cannot be: he
danced at Granada.”
I have seen Capuchin friars, the most austere order of Franciscans,
rattling on a guitar, and singing Boleros before a mixed company in
the open fields; and I have heard of a friar, who being called to
watch over a death-bed, in a decent but poor family, had the audacity
to take gross liberties with a female in the very room where the
sick man lay speechless. He recovered, however, strength enough to
communicate this horrid insult to his son, from whom I have the fact.
The convent to which this friar belonged, is notorious, among the
lower classes, for profligacy.
I shall add a little trait illustrative of Spanish manners. A friar
in high glee is commonly reminded of his profession, in a jeering
tone, by the wags of the company. Cries of, _Cáñamo, Padre_, (hemp,
my father!) are heard from all sides, alluding to the scourge used
for the discipline, which is made of that substance, and recommending
it as a proper cure for rebellious spirits. These two words will cut
a friar to the heart.