STRUGGLES AND OPPOSITION.
The assistance rendered to the Jesuits at Saragossa by the regent, in
the name of the Emperor Charles V, very greatly encouraged them. It
gave them assurance of royal sympathy with the monarchical principles
of their constitution, and taught them how to invoke that sympathy
successfully in future controversies with their adversaries, although
the latter might be ecclesiastics in the active service of the Church.
At Toledo, in Spain, they also encountered formidable opposition. On
account of divers abuses and "many superstitious practices" which
prevailed among them, the Cardinal-Archbishop of Toledo was constrained
to condemn and reprove them in a public ordinance, whereby he
prohibited the Christian people from confessing to them "under pain of
excommunication," and required "all curates to exclude them from the
administration of the sacraments." It should be understood from this,
of course, that they must have been guilty of some extraordinary and
flagrant conduct, or they would not have been so harshly dealt with by
so distinguished a functionary of the Church as a cardinal-archbishop,
to whom the management of the affairs of the Church at Toledo was
confided. No other supposition can be indulged, especially in view of
the fact that, besides this emphatic denunciation, he placed their
college at Alcala under interdict. It is impossible, therefore, to
escape the conclusion that their conduct had brought reproach upon
the society and inflicted injury upon the Church. But again, as at
Saragossa, the Jesuits were not discomfited by being placed under
the ban of ecclesiastical censure, and organized resistance against
the cardinal-archbishop, as they had done against the vicar-general
at Saragossa. Their first effort was to seek the intervention of the
pope--whom they supposed to be under the influence of Loyola--that of
his nuncio in Spain, and that of the Archbishop of Burgos. They hoped
in this way to overcome all opposition. But the effort was unavailing,
for the reason that the cardinal-archbishop was so thoroughly convinced
of their unworthiness that he could not be moved from his purpose,
and sternly persisted in condemning them. Thus failing to obtain the
desired assistance from the authorities of the Church, they invoked aid
from the temporal and monarchical power of the Government, as they had
done at Saragossa. They had become well assured, by their success with
the regent, that all who served Charles V were in constant readiness to
do whatsoever was necessary to protect their society, even against the
highest officials of the Church, because of its tendency to preserve
and perpetuate the principle of monarchism. They felt entirely secure
under royal and imperial protection, understanding perfectly well the
powers wielded by the monarchs of that period, especially that of
Charles V in Spain. Accordingly they succeeded in having proceedings
instituted against the cardinal-archbishop, who was summoned before the
royal court of Spain to show cause why he had placed any impediments
in the way of the Jesuits--why, in other words, he had dared to deny
their absolute dominion over the regularly-constituted ecclesiastical
tribunal at Toledo. Loyola understood how to influence the court of
Spain, and felt entirely convinced, doubtless, that, with Charles V
upon his side, he could easily bring all his enemies at his feet; and,
in this instance, he was not disappointed. The royal court decided in
favor of the Jesuits, and the cardinal-archbishop was condemned and
silenced. In order to escape the prison of the Inquisition, he yielded
obedience at last, and the Jesuits achieved another triumph over a
distinguished ecclesiastic of the Church.[41]
The patronage of the king of Portugal enabled them to enter Portugal
without difficulty. This so excited their anticipations of a brilliant
and successful future, that they devoted themselves to the acquisition
of riches, and fell into such vices as, in that day, almost invariably
accompanied success among both clergy and laity. Nicolini says that,
after having obtained "immense wealth" in Portugal, they "relaxed
in the strictness of their conduct, pursued a life of pleasure and
debauchery," until the king "began to frown upon them," and the people
to withdraw their respect. They had a college at Coimbra which,
according to him, bore very little resemblance to a cloister. Being no
longer able, as in Spain, to appeal with confidence to the royal power
for protection--as the confidence of the king of Portugal in their
Christian integrity had become shaken--Loyola, yet alive, was forced
to remove the provincial and rector of the college, out of seeming
deference to public opinion. The new rector, by running and screaming
through the streets like a madman, and flagellating his naked shoulders
until they were covered with blood and dust, so succeeded in arousing
the fears and superstition of the Jesuits that they were induced to
introduce such reforms in the college as enabled them, in some degree,
but not entirely, to regain their influence.[42]
It is not a little puzzling to those who have not investigated the
history and character of the Jesuits, to understand how the immense
wealth they acquired in Portugal and elsewhere was obtained, when
each member was required to take a vow of "extreme poverty." There
is, however, nothing easier for a Jesuit than to satisfy his own mind
upon this subject, by aid of the casuistical method of reasoning
which enables him to escape this, or any other difficulty. Bartoli,
the biographer of Loyola, explains it in a few words. "The vow of
poverty," says he, "does not deprive the person who is under trial of
the ownership of the property which he previously possessed, nor of
the possibility of acquiring more, until he has obtained a fixed and
determined position, although he is indeed deprived of the use of his
property, and can not, any more than a professed religious, dispose
of a single farthing without the consent of his superior."[43] And he
repeats the same idea at another place, by saying, "The vow of poverty
does not preclude the possession of property."[44] Uninitiated minds
may be embarrassed by this, but it is plain and simple to a Jesuit.
He understands that his vow of "extreme poverty" does not require
him to part with the property he has, or prohibit him from obtaining
more if he can. There is but a single condition attached--that it
shall be at the disposal of the superior. And thus, by the help of
the casuists, this wonderful society, composed only of those who have
solemnly vowed their absolute disdain of wealth, has, at several
periods of its history, become the richest in the world, and would be
so again if allowed to have its own way. The vow of "extreme poverty"
means, therefore, in the minds of Jesuits, splendid palaces, marble
churches, magnificent universities, and, in fact, the absorption of as
much wealth as can be acquired through every variety of intrigue, by
a body of men who boast that they have plucked every human sympathy
from their hearts, and look upon all the tenderest relations of society
with contempt. No written language furnishes words to convey fully to
ordinary minds the Jesuit idea of "extreme poverty." One of the Jesuit
fathers, quoted by Bartoli, calls it "a rich poverty," as he also does
the bondage of the society "a free slavery."[45] By familiarizing
ourselves with this wonderfully dexterous use of words, we may soon
learn to understand what is meant by white darkness and the blackness
of sunlight.
In all the countries of Europe the first impressions with reference to
the Jesuits were extremely unfavorable to them, and the most decided
among those most conspicuous for devotion to the Church. There was
nothing in the life of Loyola to inspire confidence, either in him or
in his plan of operations. He was looked upon as an adventurer, who had
abandoned a military life only because his person was disfigured by
a wound, in order to acquire distinction in some other pursuit. Some
of the ecclesiastics--as in the case of Melchior the Dominican--were
disposed to rebuke his presumptuousness in assuming sanctity and
superiority; while others of them, like the vicar-general at Saragossa
and the Cardinal-Archbishop of Toledo, considered his teachings as
tending to encourage heresy, not only because of their novelty, but
because they blasphemously recognized him and all subsequent superiors
of the Jesuits as equal to God in both attributes and power. They could
not persuade themselves to believe that Christianity required them
to recognize Loyola as infallible, whilst the pope, by the existing
faith of the Church, remained fallible. Loyola was thus surrounded
with embarrassments which would have subdued the courage of almost
any other man. He, however, was rather strengthened than weakened
by opposition; for he belonged to that class of men who need the
excitement of conflict and the spur of necessity to develop their
commanding qualities. He had laid his plans well and skillfully, and,
with a perfect knowledge of the condition of society, had prepared to
derive power from the only sources recognized as possessing it; that
is, from the pope as head of the Church, and monarchs as the possessors
of absolute dominion. So long as he could avail himself of their united
support, he had little or no fear of the people, whom he could readily
resist and humiliate as he had done at Saragossa. He soon realized that
he could easily brush opposing ecclesiastics out of his way, so long
as he could retain monarchism as the leading and central principle of
his society; and hence he directed all his efforts to the suppression
of the Reformation, and to the continued union of Church and State, so
as to give additional strength to monarchism, upon which, as a reserved
force, he could fall back whensoever the interests of his society and
the exigencies of his affairs required it. Whilst the bulk of society
were unable to penetrate his secret purposes and motives, enough
transpired, even during the life of Loyola, to excite general suspicion
against his own and the integrity of his society, on which account it
was that he encountered such formidable opposition to the introduction
of his society into Spain, and its loss of influence and reputation
in Portugal, both of which States were eminently devoted to the Roman
Catholic religion. In obedience to the general rule, that "the same
causes produce the same results," the opposition to Loyola and his
society became more violent and protracted in France than in either
Spain or Portugal. The reason for this may be found in the peculiarity
of the Church organization existing there; but from whatsoever cause it
may have arisen, the long and tedious controversy which at last secured
the admission of the Jesuits into France, is not merely historically
instructive, but throws a flood of light upon Jesuit policy and
character.
The French Christians had for a long period refused to concede to the
pope the right to interfere with the temporal affairs of that kingdom.
This attitude was so persistently maintained by them that what they
considered their "liberties" came to be generally recognized as the
foundation of the French or Gallican Church, as distinguished from the
Papal Church at Rome. They regarded themselves under the jurisdiction
of the pope in spiritual matters--that is, in so far as religious faith
was concerned--but maintained that the domestic policy of France, in
the management of her own temporal and internal affairs, could not be
so mingled with Christian faith as to confer upon the pope any right
to dictate or interfere with that policy. Upon these points there
was entire unanimity among them before the time of Loyola, or if any
opposing sentiment existed it was too inconsiderable to influence the
public judgment.
When the attempt was first made to introduce the Jesuits into France
the knowledge of their operations elsewhere led to the belief--at all
events, the fear--that the society could not exist there without
conflicting with the Gallican liberties, and subjecting the French
Christians to foreign authority more odious than that of the pope, to
whom they had steadily refused the concession of any temporal power
over them. They were willing then, as they had always been, to look
to the pope for the regulation of all affairs of the Church that
concerned religious faith; but it was impossible for them to admit the
superior jurisdiction claimed by Loyola without conferring upon him
authority and distinction they had denied to the pope, and creating
a threatening antagonism to the liberties they had long enjoyed, and
which distinguished them from other Roman Catholic populations of
Europe. They could readily see that if the Jesuits, under the guidance
of an ambitious adventurer like Loyola, were permitted to establish
this jurisdiction, it would surely lead to interference by his society
with the temporal affairs and interests of the kingdom. Consequently
the Gallican Christians, backed by their highest ecclesiastical
authorities, sternly resisted the introduction of the Jesuits into
France. They could not have done otherwise without a tame and absolute
forfeiture of their boasted liberties. As neither Loyola nor his
followers had any respect whatsoever for this Christian sentiment,
notwithstanding it was maintained with extraordinary unanimity in
France, and persisted in the effort to plant the Jesuit society in
the midst of it with the view of its extermination, an exciting and
angry struggle ensued, in which the Jesuits displayed their habitual
disregard of public opinion, and whatsoever else stood in the way of
their success. Neither the interests of the French Church, nor the
sentiments and wishes of the French people, nor the possibility of
imperiling the cause of Christianity, nor any other consideration
beside that of their own triumph, weighed the weight of a feather with
them when in conflict with their secret plans and purposes.
The Jesuits sought the aid of the pope, and through him that of the
king of France, so that by the combined influence of the spiritual and
the temporal powers, they might bring to bear upon the French Church
and people such pressure as would render them powerless to resist
encroachment upon liberties long held in religious veneration. Their
manifest object was to center this union of Church and State upon what
they considered the only "legitimate authority," with the special view
of engrafting upon the faith of the Gallican Christians the principle
of "uninquiring obedience" to whatsoever policy should be dictated
by the interests of that combination, whether relating to spiritual
or temporal affairs. Realizing how readily the pope yielded to the
entreaties and influence of Loyola in approving his society, it was
doubtless supposed that he would as readily be persuaded to secure the
co-operation of the king, whose temporal power would thus be invoked
to bring the French Church and people to obey whatsoever the Jesuits
should dictate. The scheme was adroitly planned, and displayed, not
only the despotic policy of the Jesuits, but their unsurpassed capacity
for cunning and intrigue.
During the reign of Henry II, France had become, in a large degree,
relieved from the complications in which she had been involved in
the lifetime of Francis I, his father, growing out of the protracted
controversy in which the Emperor Charles V and the pope both bore
conspicuous parts. He was enabled therefore to turn his attention
to internal and domestic affairs, which placed him in a condition
favorable to the adoption of any methods of procedure that promised
to bring society into perfect obedience to monarchical dominion; or,
as he, along with Loyola and the Jesuits, regarded it, to "legitimate
authority." Loyola could not fail to realize that the occasion was most
opportune for him, and therefore availed himself of it with the utmost
promptitude, taking advantage of everything seemingly favorable to the
ends he desired to accomplish. The Reformation had progressed with
astonishing rapidity, and nothing aroused his ambition so much as the
hope of arresting its progress; for without the stimulating influence
of that object his occupation would have been threatened with a speedy
ending, and his society would have expired almost at its birth. This
would have caused him to sink down into an inconspicuous position,
condemned alike by ecclesiastics and people as a disturber of the
public peace.
In addition to what the Reformation had accomplished in Germany--where
its defenders had been inspirited by the presence, intrepidity, and
eloquence of Luther--its influences had become so extended in France as
to alarm all who saw in it the probable loss of power, and the end of
those oppressions by which they had so long and successfully maintained
their authority. Protestant churches were erected, not only in Paris,
but in all the principal cities and in every province of France.
Henry II saw all this with intense dissatisfaction, and was therefore
in a condition to look favorably upon suggestions from any quarter
that would give promise of forcing back the advancing tide of popular
enlightenment and Protestant progress. He inherited from his father
the most intense malignity toward what he called the "new religion,"
mainly on account, unquestionably, of its tendency to endanger the
absolutism of monarchy. And he also inherited a persecuting spirit,
which, by indulgence, had outgrown that of his father. All students of
French history are familiar with the chief events of his reign, which
caused Henry of Navarre--afterwards Henry IV--Anthony de Bourbon, Louis
de Condé, Admiral de Coligny, Francis d'Andelot, and other lords, to
unite with the reformers, and place themselves in the lead of the
Huguenots. With such accessions as these, the persecuted Protestants
of France became formidable in all parts of the country, and Henry II
found employment for all his royal resources in contriving methods for
their suppression, an object of which he seldom lost sight. Wheresoever
Protestantism appeared, the spirit of persecution rose up to extinguish
it. An eminent French historian says: "During the reign of Francis
I, within the space of twenty-three years, there had been eighty-one
executions for heresy. During that of Henry II, twelve years, there
were ninety-seven for the same cause; and at one of these executions
Henry II was present in person on the space in front of Notre Dame, a
spectacle which Francis I had always refused to see." He states also
that during the reign of Henry II, and the year before his death,
"fifteen capital sentences had been executed in Dauphiny, in Normandy,
in Poitou, and at Paris," and that, within that period, the penal
legislation against heretics had been greatly increased in severity.[46]
Francis II was distinguished for nothing so much as for his
uncompromising animosity to the Reformation, to all its legitimate
fruits, and to those who professed Protestantism. He was entirely under
the dominion of the Guises, who were the bloodiest and most unrelenting
persecutors in France. To signalize his submission to them, he issued
a royal proclamation, which they dictated, for razing to the ground
and demolishing the houses in which the Protestants met for religious
worship. Protestant assemblages were declared unlawful, and those
who attended them were punishable with death, as were also those who
sheltered and protected them. In about five months of this merciless
reign, "eighteen persons were burned alive for heresy"--that is, for
having professed the Protestant religion.[47]
In this condition France opened a broad and attractive field of
operations for the Jesuits. Keeping steadily in view the principal
and primary purpose of their organization--the suppression of the
Reformation--they must have thirsted for an opportunity to bring their
peculiar tactics into practice, not only for the accomplishment of
this cherished object, but to reduce the Gallican Christians into such
obedience to the papacy as would subject the temporal affairs of France
to the dominion of Rome, when they expected to become, through the
influence of Loyola over the pope, the chief agents in executing the
papal mandates. The Cardinal of Lorraine--one of the Guises--was in
full sympathy with them; and as he had been instrumental in dictating
the persecuting policy of Henry II and Francis I, he must have
rejoiced at the opportunity of obtaining Jesuit assistance in a work
so congenial to himself and them. He was "inordinately vain; intensely
selfish; an adept in the art of dissimulation, which he used without
scruple,"--and these qualities must have commended him to the Jesuits,
as they, on account of possessing the same, were doubtless commended
to him. That he was ambitious and a special favorite of the pope is
indicated by the multiplicity of offices he filled at the same time.
Besides being cardinal, he held two archbishoprics, six bishoprics, and
was abbot for each of four monasteries.[48]
Such a man as the Cardinal of Lorraine could, of course, render most
essential aid to the Jesuits, as the Jesuits could to him. He and
Loyola were "_par nobile fratrum_," each possessing such qualities
as fitted him to become a proficient auxiliary of the other in the
pursuit of a common object. After he had succeeded in combining
against the French Protestants all who were under royal influence, he
hastened to Rome, where, under the immediate auspices of the pope,
he desired to arrange with Loyola personally for the introduction
of the Jesuits into France. To facilitate the measure, he proposed
the establishment of the Inquisition in France, with the purpose of
disposing of heretics according to the method employed against the
Albigenses by Innocent III, and which had been, after many years of
disuse, successfully revived in Italy, Spain, and Portugal, under papal
patronage and protection. He was received with marked distinction
at Rome by both the pope and Loyola; and, having experienced no
difficulty in obtaining their approval of his proposed plan of
operations, he returned to France to carry it into execution by
exterminating Protestantism, destroying the liberties of the Gallican
Christians, and re-establishing the unity of religious faith by
inquisitorial compulsion. He found the king still in full sympathy
with him, and consequently had no difficulty in procuring from him
royal letters-patent, by which he gave his consent to the Jesuits to
enter France as an organized religious society, to build a house and
college in Paris, and to "live therein according to their rules and
statutes."[49]
These facts--narrated with all possible brevity--show the extraordinary
means of which Loyola availed himself, in his lifetime, to force his
society into France in opposition to the Gallican Church, the almost
entire body of the Gallican Christians, and the people. Relying upon
the aid of the pope, the king, the Cardinal of Lorraine, and such
courtiers as crowded about the royal palace and echoed the royal will,
he expected to overcome all opposition, and, by employing the terrible
machinery of the Inquisition, to make himself master of France, or
prepare the way for his successors to do so. And thus the founder
and builder of the Jesuit society himself stamped upon it one of its
leading and most distinguishing characteristics--the utter disregard of
everything that does not contribute to its own ends and objects.
But the enemies of the Jesuits in France were not so easily reduced
to submission as the Cardinal of Lorraine, the pope, and Loyola had
supposed. The powerful combination they had formed, with the assistance
of the king and his courtiers, was not sufficient to remove or
counteract the deep-seated antipathy existing in France against the
Jesuits. The orders of the king were not mandatory without the approval
of Parliament, which was the highest public representative body in
France. When the letters-patent of the king, admitting the Jesuits,
came before Parliament, they were rejected with great unanimity,
for the avowed reason that their introduction into France would be
prejudicial to the public welfare and the Gallican Christians.[50] The
bulk of the French clergy, and the entire faculty of the University
of Paris, also took strong and decided grounds against the Jesuits.
The king, offended by this opposition to his royal will, and assuming
an air of monarchical supremacy, commanded Parliament to register his
letters-patent. But Parliament again refused, and appealed for advice
to the Archbishop of Paris--the chief ecclesiastical functionary of the
Church. The archbishop also decided against the Jesuits. The Faculty
of Theology in the university unanimously charged them, among other
things, with arrogant presumption in assuming "the unusual title of
the name of Jesus," and with admitting into their society "all sorts
of persons, however criminal, lawless, and infamous they may be." They
further declared the society to be "dangerous as to matters of faith,
capable of disturbing the peace of the Church, overturning the monastic
orders, and were more adapted to break down than to build up." This
severe indictment is made more important and conspicuous by the fact
that it was not preferred by Protestants, but by Roman Catholics, who
had for many centuries faithfully adhered to such teachings of the
Church as had universally prevailed, before the popes, in imitation
of temporal monarchs, had built up the papal system. In addition to
all this, the Archbishop of Paris issued an interdict against them,
forbidding their exercise of any of the sacred functions.[51] The
Bishop of Paris followed with other interdictions, and the entire
clergy denounced the Jesuits in the pulpits. Placards in censure of
them were hawked about the streets. At last the public indignation
against them became so intense and violent that they were driven out of
Paris, and compelled to seek shelter elsewhere. They did this, however,
as they had done when forced by the popular tumult to leave Saragossa;
that is, with the seeming appearance of submission, but with the real
purpose of renewing their efforts when some occasion attended by more
favorable circumstances should arise--when the royal authority could
be more successfully employed to defy the Gallican Church and the
popular sentiment. This was at that time, has been ever since, and is
to-day, an essential part of Jesuit tactics, in the pursuit of which
they are persistent and tireless. And where they have had the united
aid of popes and monarchs, of Church and State, they have generally
succeeded among populations not awakened by Protestant influences to a
just appreciation of their own rights and dignity. In the case we have
been considering they did not have very long to wait before the king,
the Cardinal of Lorraine, and their allies, patronized by the pope,
secured for them a conspicuous triumph over public opinion in France.
The combination formed for that purpose needed their assistance in the
bloody and congenial work of persecution, and this furnished a pretext
for their introduction into France, notwithstanding the odium in which
they were almost universally held. Nicolini says: "Soon they were
called into France to help and cheer that atrocious and cruel hecatomb,
that bloody debauch of priests and kings--the Saint Bartholomew."[52]
Thus far a clear and distinct view is furnished of the estimate in
which the Jesuits were held during the lifetime of their founder by
those who were steadfastly obedient to the Christian teachings of the
Roman Church. None of the opposition here noted came from Protestants,
but alone from those attached to the Church which the Jesuits professed
to be serving. It originated with those who had a most favorable
opportunity of becoming familiar with the general character and
purposes of Loyola, many of whom, in all probability, had opportunities
of seeing and conversing with him, as Melchior, the Dominican monk, had
done. His boasts of extraordinary sanctity, of his frequent interviews
with Christ and the Virgin Mary, and his impious pretense that he
occupied the place of God in the world, and, like him, possessed
miraculous powers, misled very few besides those who became his
minions, or those who expected to profit by alliance with him. We shall
see all this still more fully in the subsequent events which attended
the final introduction of the society into France, all of which combine
to show the methods by which, in the course of time, it became odious
to the Christian populations of Europe, was expelled ignominiously
from all the Christian nations, and was, at last, when its iniquities
could be patiently borne no longer, suppressed and abolished by a pope
distinguished for his Christian virtue and purity of life.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 41: History of the Jesuits. By Nicolini. Page 80. History of
the Jesuits. By Steinmetz. Vol. I, pp. 382-83.]
[Footnote 42: Nicolini, pp. 82-83.]
[Footnote 43: History of St. Ignatius Loyola. By Bartoli. Vol. II, p.
57.]
[Footnote 44: _Ibid._, p. 58.]
[Footnote 45: _Ibid._, p. 234.]
[Footnote 46: Outlines of the History of France. Abridged from Guizot,
by Gustave Masson. Pages 283-285.]
[Footnote 47: _Ibid._, p. 287.]
[Footnote 48: Church of France. By Jervis. Vol. I, p. 129. History of
the Jesuits. By Steinmetz. Vol. I, p. 390, and note 1.]
[Footnote 49: Steinmetz, Vol. I, pp. 391-92.]
[Footnote 50: _Ibid._, p. 392.]
[Footnote 51: Steinmetz, Vol. I, p. 395; Nicolini, p. 86; _Apud_
Cretineau, Vol. I, p. 320; Coudrette, Vol. I, p. 42.]
[Footnote 52: Nicolini, p. 88.]