CHAPTER II.

IGNATIUS LOYOLA, FOUNDER OF THE ORDER.

It is of little consequence to the general reader what place in history

is assigned to Ignatius Loyola, apart from the fact that he was the

founder and originator of the society of Jesuits, and lived long

enough to stamp upon it the impress of his own personality. He availed

himself of that organization to maintain among its members the vain and

impious assumption of his equality with God, and in that way obtained

such complete mastery over them that, in explanation and justification

of their slavish obedience, they represent him as having possessed

miraculous powers. They assign to him the performance of more miracles

than Christ, and do not hesitate to record that he not only restored

the dead to life, but, in one conspicuous case, gave life to a child

born dead! The silly stories of this character, told of him in apparent

seriousness, can have no other effect than to impose upon and encourage

ignorant and superstitious people, and are undoubtedly repeated by his

Jesuit biographers for this purpose. They seem never to have realized

that the world has grown wiser, and that the period has passed when

fictions and myths can be proclaimed as realities.

The life of Loyola was written, soon after his death, by Rabadenira,

one of his Jesuit followers, who had known him intimately. Of course,

under such circumstances, his statement of personal characteristics

was presumably reliable. What he stated in the first edition was

professedly based upon his own knowledge and what he had learned from

Loyola's "intimate friends" and "inseparable companions." And with

these facts before him and fully considered, he declared that his

"sanctity was not justified by miracles." Some years after, however, it

was deemed expedient that this concession should be withdrawn entirely,

and another more favorable to the Jesuits be substituted for it.

Accordingly, in another edition of the same work, it is stated that

Loyola's performance of miracles was "confirmed by the most authentic

proofs and careful examination."[4] These statements are in direct

conflict, and can not both be true. The first bears the impress of

veracity because it is consistent with human experience, while the

latter shows the tracings of Jesuit fingers too clearly to mislead any

thoughtful and intelligent mind.

It is singularly strange that, in the present reading and enlightened

age, these pretended miracles are cited by Jesuits to prove that

divine power and authority were conferred upon Loyola, because God

chose him to accomplish special objects in his name; when the very

things which, as they allege, he was providentially appointed to

defeat, have transpired in spite of him, his successors, and all their

followers. The suppression of the Reformation and the extirpation

of Protestantism--its legitimate fruit--were the avowed purposes of

himself and his society, because, according to them, the curse of

God rested upon these as the excess of unpardonable heresy. For the

accomplishments of these objects he converted the members of his

society into a compact body of militia, and placed in their hands

weapons chosen by himself, instructing them that they were specially

selected as the executioners of the Divine vengeance. Yet the

Reformation progressed until it marked out new paths of advancement for

the nations; and Protestantism has extended its beneficent influences

until it is to-day the controlling power in human affairs, and has even

taken possession of places where the papacy once ruled with sovereign

and unchallenged authority. And the great work thus begun, in the face

of Jesuit maledictions and curses, has not yet ended; for Protestantism

still continues to build up new nations, elevate and improve peoples,

and make mankind freer, happier, and more prosperous; whilst there

has not been a time since the Jesuits existed as a society when they

have not been odious in all parts of the world, and have not been

regarded as the plotters of mischief and disturbers of the public

peace. How can a thoughtful mind account for these results by any known

process of human reasoning, if it were true that Loyola had divine

power conferred upon him expressly for the purpose of exterminating

Protestantism as heresy? And how, if his society of Jesuits has been

providentially endowed with faculties to consummate his ends, could it

have happened that one of the wisest and best of the popes--for whom

infallibility is now claimed--was constrained to condemn it by positive

suppression, and to declare, under the solemn responsibilities of his

sacred office, that it was not worthy of longer existence? But leaving

these questions unanswered for the present, it is sufficient to say

here that no qualities possessed by Loyola, whatsoever they were, can

oblige the present age to recognize his society as entitled to any

such prerogatives and immunities as exempt it from having its real

worth tested by the rules universally accepted as applicable to human

conduct and affairs. It must now be tried by these rules; and if it

shall be found that its conduct has been marked by wrong and injustice,

its boastful claim of superiority will appear to every investigator as

merely vain and presumptuous.

That Loyola was shrewd and sagacious, and laid his plans with a full

and intelligent comprehension of the ends he had in view, ought not to

be denied. When engaged in framing the constitution of the Jesuits,

he was familiar with the troubles existing in the Church, and with

the prevailing public sentiment with reference to their causes; that

is, the unfitness for the proper discharge of spiritual functions of

those charged with their exercise. The Jesuits themselves assert this,

in explanation of the necessity for the establishment of theirs as a

new society, declaring that the numerous orders then existing--such as

the Benedictines, Dominicans, Franciscans, Minorites, and others--were

incompetent to arrest the decline of the Church, on account of their

own need of reform. This point in their history should invite the

closest attention and scrutiny, because it shows, in a conspicuous

degree, the basis of their assumed superiority over all other societies

and orders which, in the course of time, have had the sanction of

the Church. And this scrutiny is desirable, moreover, inasmuch as it

will be seen that the pictures of demoralization prevailing among

the clergy, as they were drawn by the reformers in their most vivid

coloring, had their accuracy vouched for by Loyola himself, to justify

the establishment of his society of Jesuits, not merely because it

would constitute a distinct, independent, and superior organization,

but would bring back all dissenters to obedience, which he made its

main and fundamental principle.

One of the leading Jesuit authorities--an author upon whom the

society relies to make known that part of its history considered

favorable--endeavors to maintain the proposition that it was absolutely

obligatory for Loyola to have been intrusted with the duty "of

reforming the morals of the people of Rome," immediately within the

shadow of the Vatican. He represents the task as "most difficult and

important, as at that time the people were much demoralized, and

indulged in the most frightful excesses," notwithstanding the papal

Government, with plenary and absolute powers, had existed there during

all the period of the Middle Ages--nearly a thousand years. Not content

alone with asserting that the people were demoralized, this same author

affirms, in addition, that Loyola "sought to reform the monastic

orders, and reanimate the priesthood with a holy fervor,"[5] thus

alleging that the monastic orders and the priesthood were demoralized

like the people, and needed that a new guardian of their morals, other

and better than any the Church had ever furnished, should be empowered

to regulate their conduct. In further explanation of the reasons why

Loyola desired to establish the society of Jesuits, he represents him

as having addressed directly to the pope, Paul III, this argument: "It

appears that this society is absolutely necessary for the eradication

of those abuses with which the Church is afflicted."[6] And at another

place, referring to the condition of the Church in Germany, he says

it was "mainly attributable to the ignorance of the people, and, more

dangerous still, to the shortcomings of the priesthood, abandoned to

the gratification of their own passions. In the entire city of Worms

there was but one priest worthy of respect."[7] Neither Luther nor the

reformers could have employed apter words to justify themselves; nor

can those of the present time, who comment upon the vices which then

prevailed among the clergy, express themselves in stronger language.

The well-established historical fact is, that the same condition of

things existed throughout the leading nations of Europe, beginning at

Rome and reaching out in every direction, having the papacy as its

common center. When the Jesuits, therefore, bestow their curses upon

Luther and other reformers for having proclaimed the necessity for

reform in the Church because of the demoralization of the clergy, they

show their memories to be short in forgetting that their society was

justified by its founder upon the plea of the same necessity.

Loyola was fully advised, also, of the progress made by the

Reformation, and doubtless persuaded himself to believe that the

necessity for reform would be made available by others of less ambition

than himself, who would be likely to seek for it elsewhere than through

the papacy, under whose auspices so many evils had grown up, unless he

could check the progress of the Reformation by the creation of some new

and opposing influences which he could himself control. There were no

fundamental points of Christian doctrine involved; and, if there had

been, the whole life of Loyola proves that he would have regarded them

of inferior importance, compared with his main purpose of preventing

the enlightenment of society by free religious thought, and holding

it in obedience to authority superior to itself. The friendly author

already quoted declares his object to have been "to re-establish

those principles of submission and discipline which alone can insure

obedience to legitimate authority;"[8] that is, to the combined

authority of Church and State, as no other was at that time considered

legitimate by him, or has ever been by his society since then.

The acute and penetrating intellect of Loyola enabled him to foresee

that, unless some new method of counteracting the effects of the

Reformation should be discovered, the disintegration of the Church,

already begun, could not be arrested. The difficulties surrounding

this problem were increased by the fact that the papacy had been

unable to put a stop to its own decline; and accordingly he taxed

his inventive faculties, not to reform doctrine--for that was not

needed beyond the points interpolated upon the primitive faith by the

ambitious popes--but to prevent the decay of papal and ecclesiastical

power. Undoubtedly it was his purpose that whatsoever plan he might

adopt should supersede the old methods to which the Church had been

long accustomed, and which had the sanction of numerous popes and

many centuries of time. He intended to enter upon an experiment,

the chief recommendation of which was, that it required new paths

to be marked out in preference to those which had acquired the

approval of antiquity. But he was careful to see, at every step he

took, that whatsoever was done should inure to his own credit in the

accomplishment of such ends as were suggested by the burning ardor and

ambition of a soldier; in other words, that if good results ensued,

they should be attributed to himself, and neither to the pope, nor

to the Church, nor to the ancient monastic orders. Assuming, as he

manifestly did, that all these combined had failed to check the

advancing corruptions of the clergy, which had grown up under their

protracted auspices, his inventive and ambitious mind was animated by

the hope of bringing the world to realize that he alone could give to

the organized authority of Church and State the vigor and efficiency

necessary to keep society in obedience. Having a mind thoroughly

indoctrinated with the principle of absolute monarchism, he did not

regard it as possible or desirable to accomplish this in any other mode

than by making that the central and controlling feature of whatsoever

plan should be adopted. Accordingly, in the constitution of the society

of Jesuits, which was the product of his reflections, he provided for

consolidating in his own hands, as superior or general, such absolute

authority as would subject all its members to his individual will, so

as to hold them, at all times and under all possible circumstances, in

perfect and uninquiring obedience, surrendering their right to think

as completely as if they had never possessed it. By this method he

designed to annihilate all personal independence, so that freedom of

thought should not, by any possibility, exist in the society. He meant

to convert all who were brought within the circle of his influence,

from thoughtful and reflecting men into mere human automatons, and so

to mold and fashion them that each one should be reduced to a universal

and common level of humiliating submission and obedience. Thus he

hoped to arrest the further development of popular intelligence, so

that those who had been lifted out of the old grooves of despotism

might be plunged into them again, and such as had not should be held

there in ignorance and superstition. This he supposed would defeat

the Reformation, in which event he and his society, as the originator

and executors of the plan, would enjoy the glory of the achievement.

If he had ever exhibited any evidences of great sanctity of life,

this presumption of selfish ambition might have been rebutted; but

he was known only as an aspiring soldier, whose early life had been

characterized by such follies and irregularities as prevailed about the

courts of royalty at that time. He had done nothing to raise him above

the character of an adventurer.

There was nothing in the original Jesuit constitution necessary to

Christian faith or to the established doctrines of the Roman Church.

It provided for the organization of a select body of men, united

together professedly to maintain what Loyola chose to call the greater

glory of God--"_ad majorem Dei gloriam_"--by such undefined methods as

might be, from time to time, made known to them by their general, and

without fixing any limitation or restraint upon either his discretion

or authority. There was no pretense of adding to or taking from the

settled doctrines or dogmas of the Church; for that could have been

done only by the pope, or by a General Council, or by the two powers

acting conjointly--in unity. It would have been a direct censure of

the Church to have assumed the necessity of this, or to have solicited

authority to undertake it--equivalent to saying that it had failed to

provide the necessary means of maintaining the true faith after many

centuries of unlimited power. It was the duty of Loyola, as a faithful

son of the Church, no less than it was the duty of those who were

less pretentious, to have regarded its faith and doctrines as already

perfect. To have done otherwise would have given aid and comfort to

Luther and the Reformation. Hence his pretense of the necessity for the

organization of a new society or order, with special methods of its

own hitherto unknown, clearly indicated a desire to act apart from and

independently of the existing methods and authorities of the Church.

No matter, however, what pretenses were made by Loyola, or what his

secretly cherished designs were, there is not the least ground for

doubt that his method of establishing and organizing a new society had

no relations whatsoever to the principles of Christian faith--in other

words, that the existing methods were competent for all practicable

and necessary purposes without it. It was, consequently, temporal

merely; that is, it had reference exclusively to the management of

men, so as to reduce them to uninquiring obedience to such authority

as was set over them. There was nothing besides this which the Church

and the ancient monastic orders did not already possess the power to

accomplish. The "exercises" he prescribed were, it is true, spiritual

in character--such as penance and mortification of the flesh--but the

Church had already provided these, and they were rigidly observed by

the monastic orders. The pledge to employ them, made by the members

of the Jesuit society so as to promote their own spiritual welfare,

was merely incidental to the duty they already owed to the Church.

Consequently, while these "exercises" conformed to the existing

obligations imposed by the Church, the new society projected by

Loyola was intended to furnish the machinery necessary for exacting

obedience--for training and disciplining all who could be influenced by

it for that single purpose. And in order to accomplish effectually this

obedience to himself and his new society, leaving out entirely both the

Church and the pope, he originally designed that the members of the

society should be responsible alone to their general, from whom all the

laws and regulations for their government should emanate. The pope, as

the head of the Church, had not the least authority over these members

conferred upon him by the original constitution; nor was it intended

that they should obey any other authority than that of their general,

because he, and he alone, was recognized as the sole representative of

God upon earth. There was nothing spiritual in all this, in the sense

in which the Church had defined spiritual things and the Christian

world understood them; but it made the society, as Loyola planned

it, temporal merely--a mere police corps, drilled and disciplined to

obedience alone, without the right either to inquire or decide whether

the commands of their superior were right or wrong. It should surprise

no intelligent man, therefore, at learning the fact that the pope

hesitated about giving the society his approval, when Loyola first

requested his pontifical ratification of its constitution.

That Loyola's original intention was that his new society should exact

from its members a pledge of fidelity alone to himself and those who

should succeed him in its government, and not to the Church or to

the pope, is plainly to be seen in the fact that when he found a few

sympathizing friends to unite with him, he did not submit the plan of

organization to the pope for approval, so as to make it a religious

order like the Dominican, Franciscan, and other ancient orders, but

sought only from him permission for himself and friends to go as

missionaries to the Holy Land, to labor for the conversion of the

infidel Turks to Christianity. That he then contemplated acting, in

so far as the movements and operations of his society were concerned,

independently of the Church and the pope, is evidenced by the most

undoubted authority. The author of the "Lives of the Saints," a work

which has the highest indorsement, says: "In 1534, on the Feast of the

Assumption of our Lady, St. Ignatius and his six companions, of whom

Francis [Xavier] was one, made a vow at Montmartre to visit the Holy

Land, and unite their labors for the conversion of the infidels; or, if

this should be found not practicable, to cast themselves at the feet of

the pope, and offer their services wherever he thought fit to employ

them."[9]

It will be seen, therefore, that it was entirely conditional whether

or no Loyola would make known to the pope his new society and the plan

of its organization, and ask his pontifical approval. He had already

formed the primary organization, and obtained from Xavier and his

five other associates the necessary vow of obedience, by which they

had placed themselves entirely under his dominion and control. If it

should prove "practicable" for him to plant his new and independent

society in the Holy Land, which presented a large and tempting field

of operations, it was undoubtedly his secretly-cherished purpose to

do so, without making his constitution known to the pope, and thus

to establish in Asia an organization independent of the pope, and

submissive only to himself. But if found to be "not practicable," then,

and only then, he and his companions would "cast themselves at the feet

of the pope, and offer their services" to him and to the Church. His

military ambition, not yet extinguished, was manifestly kindled afresh

by the hope that a whole continent would be opened before him, where he

would find the Oriental methods of obedience strictly consistent with

those he desired to introduce, and where he could create, unmolested,

such influences as, being introduced into Europe, might counteract

those already produced by the Reformation. But not until he found

that he was balked in this, did he intend to devote himself and his

companions to the immediate work of attempting to arrest the progress

of the Reformation in Europe, where the existing methods of resisting

it were not under his control. It was worthy of the founder of the

Jesuits to solicit the pope's approval of this great missionary scheme,

and to conceal from him, at the same time, his secret purpose to act

in the name of a new society, adverse to the ancient monastic orders

and submissive to himself alone. That this concealment was studied and

premeditated, there can be no reasonable doubt; and as it was the first

step taken by Loyola in the execution of his plan, he thereby practiced

such duplicity and deceit toward the Church and the pope, that these

qualities may well be considered as fundamental in the society of

Jesuits. And there is ample proof in the strange and eventful history

of this society that it has been, from that time till the present,

consistently faithful to this example of its founder.

His first successes were, doubtless, flattering to the pride, as well

as encouraging to the hopes, of Loyola. Having succeeded in obtaining

the consent of the pope that he and his companions should become

missionaries to the Holy Land, without having revealed the existence

or character of his society, they were all ordained as priests for

that purpose, as none of them had been previously admitted to the

priesthood. Thus equipped, they took their departure for Palestine,

with the plan and principles of their organization locked up in their

own minds, and the ultimate design of their ambitious leader known,

probably, to himself alone. They must have commenced their journey with

joyful hearts and rapturous hopes, which soon, however, became chilled

by what Loyola must have considered a sad misfortune, probably the

first he had encountered since he had received the wound at the battle

of Pampeluna, which disfigured his person so that he could share no

longer in the gay festivities of the royal court. They were prevented

from reaching Palestine by the war then in progress between the Emperor

Charles V and the Turks, and, after an absence of about a year, were

compelled to return to Europe disheartened, as may well be supposed,

by their failure. This put a new aspect upon the fortunes of Loyola.

His first advance towards independence and the acquisition of power

had accomplished nothing favorable to his ambition, and, consequently,

it became necessary for him to discover some more promising field of

operations, where no such mishap as he had encountered would be likely

to occur again. There was abundant room in Europe for missionary labor;

but he was now, for the first time, confronted by the fact that his

society could not engage in this work, in the presence of numerous

religious orders already in existence, without obtaining for it the

express approval of the pope, so that, by this means, it might be also

stamped with a religious character, in so far as that approval would

confer it. He, manifestly, had not calculated upon a crisis which

would make it necessary to submit the provisions of his constitution

to the pope, or to make them known to any others besides those who

were to become members of his society, and were willing to yield

up their manhood so completely as to vow uninquiring obedience and

submission to him and his successors as the only representatives and

vicegerents of God upon earth. It can not be supposed that a man of so

much sagacity as he undoubtedly possessed, would not have foreseen the

difficulty in obtaining the approval of the pope to a constitution

which humiliated him by assigning higher authority to the general of

a new society than the Church had confided to him. But he had gone

too far to retreat, and had too much courage to attempt it; for his

courage was never doubted, either upon the battle-field or elsewhere;

and when he found it absolutely necessary to visit Rome in order to

obtain the pope's sanction, he did so, accompanied by Lefevre and

Laynez, two of his companions. Before their departure, however, from

Vicenza in Austrian Italy, where they were assembled, Loyola deemed it

important to announce to his followers, probably for the first time,

the name he had decided to give his society. He thus instructed them:

"To those who ask what we are, we will reply, we are the Soldiers of

the Holy Church, and we form '_The Society of Jesus_.'"[10] This was

evidently suggested by the necessities which then confronted him. He

had not found it expedient to adopt such a designation, or to announce

that they were "Soldiers of the Holy Church," until their attempt to

obtain an independent position in Palestine had failed. Therefore,

these avowals, made before going to Rome, are justly to be considered

as mere expedients, suggested by the necessity of obtaining the pope's

approval. The existing religious orders had taken their names from

their founders; but Loyola's profane use of the sacred name of the Son

of God, clearly indicated that he intended to set up for his society a

claim for holiness superior to all others. Or it was assumed as a cover

for practices, contemplated by him, that would not bear inspection

in the light. That it was intended as a reflection upon the ancient

monastic orders then existing, and to express superiority over them,

can not be doubted. In any view, to say the least, it was impudent and

presumptuous, and was generally offensive to the Christian world.

At the time of Loyola's visit to Rome, Paul III was pope. When his

approval of the new society was solicited, he deemed it indispensable,

as a measure of precaution, that the question should be investigated

with the greatest care; for until then no opportunity had been afforded

him of knowing the ultimate purposes of Loyola, or the machinery he

had constructed for executing them. Whether the pope suspected him

of concealment or not, it is impossible now to tell; but that he had

reason to do so is evident from the most favorable accounts given of

the original official interview between them. Then it was that the pope

was apprised, for the first time, that the constitution under which the

society of Jesuits had been organized, required a solemn vow, by which

all the members were pledged to "implicit and unquestioning obedience

to their superior,"[11] without the possibility of equivocation or

mental reservation; that is, to Loyola himself as the first general,

and to his successors from time to time thereafter. It required but

little deliberation upon the part of the pope to realize that neither

the Church nor the papacy could derive any advantage from this, but

rather injury; for the reason that it would create a society under the

protection of both, and, at the same time, absolutely independent of

both. He therefore hesitated, evidently supposing that his approval

under those circumstances would drag him into deep waters from which it

would not be easy to escape, and referred the question to a committee

of cardinals for thorough and scrutinizing investigation, so that his

final action should be based upon full information.

Loyola was too sagacious not to have anticipated this difficulty;

but he manifestly hoped to escape it in some way, either by evading

or bridging it over, or he would not have asked the pope to approve

the original constitution which contained it. He certainly did not

desire or contemplate any change in his original constitution or plan;

and therefore, when Paul III hesitated and appointed a committee of

cardinals to scrutinize them, he must have felt a degree of perplexity

to which his proud and ambitious military spirit had not been hitherto

accustomed to submit unresistingly. He could not avoid seeing, however,

that if the pope's final decision should be adverse to him, it would

necessarily be the death of his society, upon which he had, with

inordinate ambition, fixed his hopes. The occasion constituted the

most serious crisis in his personal fortunes he had ever encountered.

Success promised him a long list of triumphs; defeat, nothing but

obscurity. He had no such intellectual resources as fitted him for

rencounter with those who had, not having attended school until after

he had reached the years of manhood, and not having then shown any

special aptness for learning. Whatsoever capacity he possessed, tended

in the direction of governing men, his faculty for which was developed

during his service in the army; and he must therefore have experienced

the consciousness that if he failed to obtain the sanction of the

pope, his career would be seriously, if not entirely, checked. The

future of the papacy depended upon the successful training of men to

obedience; and Loyola, understanding this, could have had no difficulty

in persuading the pope that a society like his, contrived especially

to suspend the power of human reasoning and reduce its members to mere

unthinking machines, would more assuredly produce that result than had

been done by the very worst forms of absolute despotism which had, for

so many centuries, held the Oriental world in subjugation.

But Loyola's embarrassment did not amount to discomfiture. He may never

have held personal intercourse with Paul III before; but he understood

the papacy, its wants and necessities, and had ample opportunity to

study the character and penetrate the motives of the pope. For this

he was specially fitted--few men have lived who excelled him in this

respect--and, having constructed his society upon the theory that men

were of no value unless persuaded to surrender up their personality

to superiors, the occasion served him to address such arguments to

the pope as would convince him that the obedience to authority he had

introduced in his society was just what the existing exigencies of

the papacy required to save it from overthrow. It may easily be seen

now--although the pope may not have then employed penetration enough

to discover it--that he did not intend to deal unequivocally and in

entire frankness with the pope, so long as there remained a prospect of

obtaining his end otherwise. He evidently had an accurate conception

of what is meant by the terms confession and avoidance, in the sense

of seeming to consent while not consenting. Thus, in order to remove

the objection of the pope and secure his approval, he suggested another

and new obligation to be inserted in the constitution of his society,

providing that the members should also take a vow "of obedience to the

Holy See and to the pope _pro tempore_, with the express obligation of

going, without remuneration, to whatsoever part of the world it shall

please the pope to send them."[12] These words must be read critically

in order that their meaning as intended by Loyola, and always since

interpreted by the Jesuits, may not be misconceived. Their true import

is, that whilst the members of the society were to pay obedience to the

pope as well as to their general, it was qualified as to the former,

and absolute as to the latter; that is, that as they were nominally

to have two heads, the authority of both should, for all practical

purposes, center in one. In point of fact, as amply demonstrated by

subsequent experience, this new provision did not change the nature or

limit the extent of the obligation of unquestioning obedience to the

Jesuit general. Its most essential feature was that which required the

members to go wheresoever ordered by the pope, without compensation;

but with regard to this and all other duties, and the manner of

discharging them, they were required to obey their general. They could

receive no instructions except those which came from him, all of which

they were required to obey as coming directly from God. This amendment

created no special relations--or, indeed, any whatsoever--between the

pope and the society; for he held no direct intercourse with it. And

it only created such relations between the pope and the general as

obliged the latter to send the members wheresoever the former desired,

without remuneration. They remained the slaves of the general, and

not the slaves of the pope. They obeyed the general, and not the

pope, unless ordered to do so by the general, in which case they

paid obedience only to the latter. But Paul III did not detect the

well-concealed purposes of Loyola, and may not even have suspected

them, in view of his anxiety to arrest the disintegration of the

Church and the threatened decay of the papacy. Howsoever this may

have been, the cunningly-contrived concession made to him by Loyola

was satisfactory to him, notwithstanding the opposition of one of the

committee of cardinals, and he issued his pontifical bull approving

the society of Jesuits as a religious order. This pledge of fidelity

to the pope, however, has been kept or evaded accordingly as the

interests of the society have from time to time demanded. Its history

shows prominent instances when the decisions of the popes have been

denounced and resisted, and when the popes themselves have been treated

with contempt and defiance. When the Jesuits have found shelter and

protection under the authority of the popes, they have exalted them to

absolute equality with God; when otherwise, they have disobeyed and

traduced them.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 4: Crit. and Phi. Dictionary. By Bayle. Article "Loyola,"

Vol. III, p. 889, note.]

[Footnote 5: History of the Society of Jesus. By Daurignac. Vol. I, p.

14. This work was translated by Clements, and published in Cincinnati

by Walsh, in 1865.]

[Footnote 6: History of the Society of Jesus. By Daurignac. Vol I, p.

22.]

[Footnote 7: _Ibid._, p. 40.]

[Footnote 8: History of the Society of Jesus. By Daurignac. Vol. I, p.

40.]

[Footnote 9: Lives of the Saints. By the Rev. Alban Butler. Vol. XII,

article "St. Francis Xavier," December 3, p. 603.]

[Footnote 10: Daurignac. Vol. I, pp. 11-12.]

[Footnote 11: History of the Jesuits. By Nicolini. Page 27.]

[Footnote 12: History of the Jesuits. By Nicolini. Page 27.]

The Footprints of the Jesuits · 第 2 / 26 章