The great Puritan controversy would have no dignity if it were

confined to vestments and robes and forms of worship, and hatred of

ceremonies and holy days, and other matters which seemed to lean to

Romanism. But the grandeur and the permanence of the movement were

in a return to the faith of the primitive Church and a purer

national morality, and to the unrestricted study of the Bible, and

the exaltation of preaching and Christian instruction over forms

and liturgies and antiphonal chants; above all, the exaltation of

reason and learning in the interpretation of revealed truth, and

the education of the people in all matters which concern their

temporal or religious interests, so that a true and rapid progress

was inaugurated in civilization itself, which has peculiarly marked

all Protestant countries having religious liberty. Underneath all

these apparently insignificant squabbles and dissensions there were

two things of immense historical importance: first, a spirit of

intolerance on the part of government and of church dignitaries,--

the State allied with the Church forcing uniformity with their

decrees, and severely punishing those who did not accept them,--in

matters beyond all worldly authority; and, secondly, a rising

spirit of religious liberty, determined to assert its glorious

rights at any cost or hazard, and especially defended by the most

religious and earnest part of the clergy, who were becoming

Calvinistic in their creed, and were pushing the ideas of the

Reformation to their utmost logical sequence. This spirit was

suppressed during the reign of Elizabeth, out of general respect

and love for her as a Queen, and the external dangers to which the

realm was exposed from Spain and France, which diverted the

national mind. But it burst out fiercely in the next reigns, under

James and Charles, about the beginning of the seventeenth century.

And this is the last development of the Reformation in England to

which I can allude,--the great Puritan contest for liberty of

worship, running, when opposed unjustly and cruelly, into a contest

for civil liberty; that is, the right to change forms and

institutions of civil government, even to the dethronement of

kings, when it was the expressed and declared will of the people,

in whom was vested the ultimate source of sovereignty.

But here I must be brief. I tread on familiar ground, made

familiar by all our literature, especially by the most brilliant

writer of modern times, though not the greatest philosopher: I mean

that great artist and word-painter Macaulay, whose chief excellence

is in making clear and interesting and vivid, by a world of

illustration and practical good-sense and marvellous erudition,

what was obvious to his own objective mind, and obvious also to

most other enlightened people not much interested in metaphysical

disquisitions. No man more than he does justice to the love of

liberty which absolutely burned in the souls of the Puritans,--that

glorious party which produced Milton and Cromwell, and Hampden and

Bunyan, and Owen and Calamy, and Baxter and Howe.

The chief peculiarity of those Puritans--once called

Nonconformists, afterwards Presbyterians and Independents--was

their reception of the creed of John Calvin, the clearest and most

logical intellect that the Reformation produced, though not the

broadest; who reigned as a religious dictator at Geneva and in the

Reformed churches of France, and who gave to John Knox the

positivism and sternness and rigidity which he succeeded in

impressing upon the churches of Scotland. And the peculiar

doctrines which marked Calvin and his disciples were those deduced

from the majesty of God and the comparative littleness of man,

leading to and bound up with the impotence of the will, human

dependence, the necessity of Divine grace,--Augustinian in spirit,

but going beyond Augustine in the subtlety of metaphysical

distinctions and dissertations on free-will election, and

predestination,--unfathomable, but exceedingly attractive subjects

to the divines of the seventeenth century, creating a metaphysical

divinity, a theology of the brain rather than of the heart, a

brilliant series of logical and metaphysical deductions from

established truths, demanding to be received with the same

unhesitating obedience as the truths, or Bible declarations, from

which they are deduced. The greatness of human reason was never

more forcibly shown than in these deductions; but they were carried

so far as to insult reason itself and mock the consciousness of

mankind; so that mankind rebelled against the very force of the

highest reasonings of the human intellect, because they pushed

logical sequence into absurdity, or to dreadful conclusions:

Decretum quidem horribile fateor, said the great master himself.

The Puritans were trained in this theology, which developed the

loftiest virtues and the severest self-constraints; making them

both heroes and visionaries, always conscientious and sometimes

repulsive; fitting them for gigantic tasks and unworthy squabbles;

driving them to the Bible, and then to acrimonious discussions;

creating fears almost mediaeval; leading them to technical

observation of religious duties, and transforming the most genial

and affectionate people under the sun into austere saints, with

whom the most ascetic of monks would have had but little sympathy.

I will not dwell on those peculiarities which Macaulay ridicules

and Taine repeats,--the hatred of theatres and assemblies and

symbolic festivals and bell-ringings, the rejection of the

beautiful, the elongated features, the cropped hair, the unadorned

garments, the proscription of innocent pleasures, the nasal voice,

the cant phrases, the rigid decorums, the strict discipline,--

these, doubtless exaggerated, were more than balanced by the

observance of the Sabbath, family prayers, temperate habits, fervor

of religious zeal, strict morality, allegiance to duty, and the

perpetual recognition of God Almighty as the sovereign of this

world, to whom we are responsible for all our acts and even our

thoughts. They formed a noble material on which every emancipating

idea could work; men trained by persecutions to self-sacrifice and

humble duties,--making good soldiers, good farmers, good workmen in

every department, honest and sturdy, patient and self-reliant,

devoted to their families though not demonstrative of affection;

keeping the Sunday as a day of worship rather than rest or

recreation, cherishing as the dearest and most sacred of all

privileges the right to worship God according to the dictates of

conscience enlightened by the Bible, and willing to fight, even

amid the greatest privations and sacrifices, to maintain this

sacred right and transmit it to their children. Such were the men

who fought the battles of civil liberty under Cromwell, and

colonized the most sterile of all American lands, making the dreary

wilderness to blossom with roses, and sending out the shoots of

their civilization to conserve more fruitful and favored sections

of the great continent which God gave them, to try new experiments

in liberty and education.

I need not enumerate the different sects into which these Puritans

were divided, so soon as they felt they had the right to interpret

Scripture for themselves. Nor would I detail the various and cruel

persecutions to which these sects were subjected by the government

and the ecclesiastical tribunals, until they rose in indignation

and despair, and rebelled against the throne, and made war on the

King, and cut off his head; all of which they did from fear and for

self-defence as well as from vengeance and wrath.

Nor can I describe the counter reformation, the great reaction

which succeeded to the violence of the revolution. The English

reformation was not consummated until constitutional liberty was

heralded by the reign of William and Mary, when the nation became

almost unanimously Protestant, with perfect toleration of religions

opinions, although the fervor of the Puritans had passed away

forever, leaving a residuum of deep-seated popular antipathy to all

the institutions of Romanism and all the ideas of the Middle Ages.

The English reformation began with princes, and ended with the

agitations of the people. The German reformation began with the

people, and ended in the wars of princes. But both movements were

sublime, since they showed the force of religious ideas. Civil

liberty is only one of the sequences which exalt the character and

dignity of man amid the seductions and impediments of a gilded

material life.

AUTHORITIES.

Todd's Life of Cranmer; Strype's Life of Cranmer; Wood's Annals of

the Oxford University; Burnet's English Reformation; Doctor

Lingard's History of England; Macaulay's Essays; Fuller's Church

History; Gilpin's Life of Cranmer; Original Letters to Cromwell;

Hook's Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury; Butler's Book of the

Roman Catholic Church; Wordsworth's Ecclesiastical biography;

Turner's Henry VIII.; Froude's History of England; Fox's Life of

Latimer; Turner's Reign of Mary.

IGNATIUS LOYOLA.

A.D. 1491-1556

RISE AND INFLUENCE OF THE JESUITS.

Next to the Protestant Reformation itself, the most memorable moral

movement in the history of modern times was the counter-reformation

in the Roman Catholic Church, finally effected, in no slight

degree, by the Jesuits. But it has not the grandeur or historical

significance of the great insurrection of human intelligence which

was headed by Luther. It was a revival of the pietism of the

Middle Ages, with an external reform of manners. It was not

revolutionary; it did not cast off the authority of the popes, nor

disband the monasteries, nor reform religious worship: it rather

tended to strengthen the power of the popes, to revive monastic

life, and to perpetuate the forms of worship which the Middle Ages

had established. No doubt a new religions life was kindled, and

many of the flagrant abuses of the papal empire were redressed, and

the lives of the clergy made more decent, in accordance with the

revival of intelligence. Nor did it disdain literature or art, or

any form of modern civilization, but sought to combine progress

with old ideas; it was an effort to adapt the Roman theocracy to

changing circumstances, and was marked by expediency rather than

right, by zeal rather than a profound philosophy.

This movement took place among the Latin races,--the Italians,

French, and Spaniards,--having no hold on the Teutonic races except

in Austria, as much Slavonic as German. It worked on a poor

material, morally considered; among peoples who have not been

distinguished for stamina of character, earnestness, contemplative

habits, and moral elevation,--peoples long enslaved, frivolous in

their pleasures, superstitious, indolent, fond of fetes,

spectacles, pictures, and Pagan reminiscences.

The doctrine of justification by faith was not unknown, even in

Italy. It was embraced by many distinguished men. Contarini, an

illustrious Venetian, wrote a treatise on it, which Cardinal Pole

admired. Folengo ascribed justification to grace alone; and

Vittoria Colonna, the friend of Michael Angelo, took a deep

interest in these theological inquiries. But the doctrine did not

spread; it was not understood by the people,--it was a speculation

among scholars and doctors, which gave no alarm to the Pope. There

was even an attempt at internal reform under Paul III. of the

illustrious family of the Farnese, successor of Leo X. and Clement

VII., the two renowned Medicean popes. He made cardinals of

Contarini, Caraffa, Sadoleto, Pole, Giberto,--all imbued with

reformative doctrines, and very religious; and these good men

prepared a plan of reform and submitted it to the Pope, which

ended, however, only in new monastic orders.

It was then that Ignatius Loyola appeared upon the stage, when

Luther was in the midst of his victories, and when new ideas were

shaking the pontifical throne. The desponding successor of the

Gregorys and the Clements knew not where to look for aid in that

crisis of peril and revolution. The monastic orders composed his

regular army, but they had become so corrupted that they had lost

the reverence of the people. The venerable Benedictines had

ceased to be men of prayer and contemplation as in the times of

Bernard and Anselm, and were revelling in their enormous wealth.

The cloisters of Cluniacs and Cistercians--branches of the

Benedictines--were filled with idle and dissolute monks. The

famous Dominicans and Franciscans, who had rallied to the defence

of the Papacy three centuries before,--those missionary orders that

had filled the best pulpits and the highest chairs of philosophy in

the scholastic age,--had become inexhaustible subjects of sarcasm

and mockery, for they were peddling relics and indulgences, and

quarrelling among themselves. They were hated as inquisitors,

despised as scholastics, and deserted as preachers; the roads and

taverns were filled with them. Erasmus laughed at them, Luther

abused them, and the Pope reproached them. No hope from such men

as these, although they had once been renowned for their missions,

their zeal, their learning, and their preaching.

At this crisis Loyola and his companions volunteered their

services, and offered to go wherever the Pope should send them, as

preachers, or missionaries, or teachers, instantly, without

discussion, conditions, or rewards. So the Pope accepted them,

made them a new religions Order; and they did what the Mendicant

Friars had done three hundred years before,--they fanned a new

spirit, and rapidly spread over Europe, over all the countries to

which Catholic adventurers had penetrated, and became the most

efficient allies that the popes ever had.

This was in 1540, six years after the foundation of the Society of

Jesus had been laid on the Mount of Martyrs, in the vicinity of

Paris, during the pontificate of Paul III. Don Inigo Lopez de

Recalde Loyola, a Spaniard of noble blood and breeding, at first a

page at the court of King Ferdinand, then a brave and chivalrous

soldier, was wounded at the siege of Pampeluna. During a slow

convalescence, having read all the romances he could find, he took

up the "Lives of the Saints," and became fired with religious zeal.

He immediately forsook the pursuit of arms, and betook himself

barefooted to a pilgrimage. He served the sick in hospitals; he

dwelt alone in a cavern, practising austerities; he went as a

beggar on foot to Rome and to the Holy Land, and returned at the

age of thirty-three to begin a course of study. It was while

completing his studies at Paris that he conceived and formed the

"Society of Jesus."

From that time we date the counter-reformation. In fifty years

more a wonderful change took place in the Catholic Church, wrought

chiefly by the Jesuits. Yea, in sixteen years from that eventful

night--when far above the star-lit city the enthusiastic Loyola had

bound his six companions with irrevocable vows--he had established

his Society in the confidence and affection of Catholic Europe,

against the voice of universities, the fears of monarchs, and the

jealousy of the other monastic orders. In sixteen years, this

ridiculed and wandering Spanish zealot had risen to a condition of

great influence and dignity, second only in power to the Pope

himself; animating the councils of the Vatican, moving the minds of

kings, controlling the souls of a numerous fraternity, and making

his influence felt in every corner of the world. Before the

remembrance of his passionate eloquence, his eyes of fire, and his

countenance of seraphic piety had passed away from the minds of his

own generation, his disciples "had planted their missionary

stations among Peruvian mines, in the marts of the African slave-

trade, among the islands of the Indian Ocean, on the coasts of

Hindustan, in the cities of Japan and China, in the recesses of

Canadian forests, amid the wilds of the Rocky Mountains." They had

the most important chairs in the universities; they were the

confessors of monarchs and men of rank; they had the control of the

schools of Italy, France, Austria, and Spain; and they had become

the most eloquent, learned, and fashionable preachers in all

Catholic countries. They had grown to be a great institution,--an

organization instinct with life, a mechanism endued with energy and

will; forming a body which could outwatch Argus with his hundred

eyes, and outwork Briareus with his hundred arms; they had twenty

thousand eyes open upon every cabinet, every palace, and every

private family in Catholic Europe, and twenty thousand arms

extended over the necks of every sovereign and all their subjects,

--a mighty moral and spiritual power, irresponsible, irresistible,

omnipresent, connected intimately with the education, the learning,

and the religion of the age; yea, the prime agents in political

affairs, the prop alike of absolute monarchies and of the papal

throne, whose interests they made identical. This association,

instinct with one will and for one purpose, has been beautifully

likened by Doctor Williams to the chariot in the Prophet's vision:

"The spirit of the living creatures was in the wheels; wherever the

living creatures went, the wheels went with them; wherever those

stood, these stood: when the living creatures were lifted up, the

wheels were lifted up over against them; and their wings were full

of eyes round about, and they were so high that they were dreadful.

So of the institution of Ignatius,--one soul swayed the vast mass;

and every pin and every cog in the machinery consented with its

whole power to every movement of the one central conscience."

Luther moved Europe by ideas which emancipated the millions, and

set in motion a progress which is the glory of our age; Loyola

invented an agency which arrested this progress, and led the

Catholic world back again into the subjections and despotisms of

the Middle Ages, retaining however the fear of God and of Hell,

which are the extremes of human motive.

What is the secret of such a wonderful success? Two things: first,

the extraordinary virtues, abilities, and zeal of the early

Jesuits; and, secondly, their wonderful machinery in adapting means

to an end.

The history of society shows that no body of men ever obtained a

wide-spread ascendancy, never secured general respect, unless they

deserved it. Industry produces its fruits; learning and piety have

their natural results. Even in the moral world natural law asserts

its supremacy. Hypocrisy and fraud ultimately will be detected; no

enduring reputation is built upon a lie; sincerity and earnestness

will call out respect, even from foes; learning and virtue are

lights which are not hid under a bushel. Enthusiasm creates

enthusiasm; a lofty life will be seen and honored. Nor do people

intrust their dearest interests except to those whom they

venerate,--and venerate because their virtues shine like the face

of a goddess. We yield to those only whom we esteem wiser than

ourselves. Moses controlled the Israelites because they venerated

his wisdom and courage; Paul had the confidence of the infant

churches because they saw his labors; Bernard swayed his darkened

age by the moral power of learning and sanctity. The mature

judgments of centuries never have reversed the judgments which past

ages gave in reference to their master minds. All the pedants and

sophists of Europe cannot whitewash Frederic II. or Henry VIII.

No man in Athens was more truly venerated than Socrates when

he mocked his judges. Cicero, Augustine, Aquinas, appeared to

contemporaries, as they appear to us. Even Hildebrand did not

juggle himself into his theocratic chair. Washington deserved all

the reverence he enjoyed; and Bonaparte himself was worthy of the

honors he received, so long as he was true to the interests of

France.

So of the Jesuits,--there is no mystery in their success; the same

causes would produce the same results again. When Catholic Europe

saw men born to wealth and rank voluntarily parting with their

goods and honors; devoting themselves to religious duties, often in

a humble sphere; spending their days in schools and hospitals;

wandering as preachers and missionaries amid privations and in

fatigue; encountering perils and dangers and hardships with fresh

and ever-sustained enthusiasm; and finally yielding up their lives

as martyrs, to proclaim salvation to idolatrous savages,--it knew

them to be heroic, and believed them to be sincere, and honored

them in consequence. When parents saw that the Jesuits entered

heart and soul into the work of education, winning their pupils'

hearts by kindness, watching their moods, directing their minds

into congenial studies, and inspiring them with generous

sentiments, they did not stop to pry into their motives; and

universities, when they discovered the superior culture of educated

Jesuits, outstripping all their associates in learning, and

shedding a light by their genius and erudition, very naturally

appointed them to the highest chairs; and even the people, when

they saw that the Jesuits were not stained by vulgar vices, but

were hard-working; devoted to their labors, earnest, and eloquent,

put themselves under their teachings; and especially when they

added gentlemanly manners, good taste, and agreeable conversation

to their unimpeachable morality and religious fervor, they made

these men their confessors as well as preachers. Their lives stood

out in glorious contrast with those of the old monks and the

regular clergy, in an age of infidel levities, when the Italian

renaissance was bearing its worst fruits, and men were going back

to Pagan antiquity for their pleasures and opinions.

That the early Jesuits blazed with virtues and learning and piety

has never been denied, although these things have been poetically

exaggerated. The world was astonished at their intrepidity, zeal,

and devotion. They were not at first intriguing, or ambitious, or

covetous. They loved their Society; but they loved still more what

they thought was the glory of God. Ad majoram Dei gloriam was the

motto which was emblazoned on their standard when they went forth

as Christian warriors to overcome the heresies of Christendom and

the superstitions of idolaters. "The Jesuit missionary," says

Stephen, "with his breviary under his arm, his beads at his girdle,

and his crucifix in his hands, went forth without fear, to

encounter the most dreaded dangers. Martyrdom was nothing to him;

he knew that the altar which might stream with his blood, and the

mound which might be raised over his remains, would become a

cherished object of his fame and an expressive emblem of the power

of his religion." "If I die," said Xavier, when about to visit the

cannibal Island of Del Moro, "who knows but what all may receive

the Gospel, since it is most certain it has ever fructified more

abundantly in the field of Paganism by the blood of martyrs than by

the labors of missionaries,"--a sublime truth, revealed to him in

his whole course of protracted martyrdom and active philanthropy,

especially in those last hours when, on the Island of Sanshan, he

expired, exclaiming, as his fading eyes rested on the crucifix, In

te Domine speravi, non confundar in eternum. "In perils, in

fastings, in fatigues, was the life of this remarkable man passed,

in order to convert the heathen world; and in ten years he had

traversed a tract of more than twice the circumference of the

earth, preaching, disputing, and baptizing, until seventy thousand

converts, it is said, were the fruits of his mission."* " My

companion," said the fearless Marquette, when exploring the

prairies of the Western wilderness, "is an envoy of France to

discover new countries, and I am an ambassador of God to enlighten

them with the Gospel." Lalemant, when pierced with the arrows of

the Iroquois, rejoiced that his martyrdom would induce others to

follow his example. The missions of the early Jesuits extorted

praises from Baxter and panegyric from Liebnitz.

* I am inclined to think that this statement is exaggerated; or, if

true, that conversion was merely nominal. In any event, his labors

were vast.

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