CHAPTER XIV.

RE-ESTABLISHMENT.

If it be conceded, as the Jesuits insist, that Clement XIV was prompted

by unworthy and impure motives to abolish their society, and that, in

consequence, he afterwards became demented from remorse, nevertheless

the decree of abolition was an official act not subject to review or

reversal by any authority known to the Church. No appeal from it was

authorized by any existing law or Church regulation. He exercised a

power which had been always understood to belong to the popes--of the

same nature and import precisely as that exercised by Paul III when

he established the society. No matter whether it be called a bull, a

brief, or by some other name, it was undoubtedly an official decree,

pronounced by the head of the Church, acting within his proper,

well-established, and recognized pontifical jurisdiction. Consequently,

its nature can not be changed, nor can its scope and effect be limited,

by any view that can be taken of his motives, any more than can the

decree of a competent judicial tribunal be impaired in its force and

effect by the motives or inclinations of the judge who pronounces it.

There can, therefore, be no escape from either of these propositions:

First, that the decree, having been issued in conformity with the

law and custom of the Church, was valid; and, second, that after its

issuance, the Jesuit society could no longer exist as a religious

order, under the Canon law of the Church.

It is not necessary to inquire whether or no this decree was binding

upon subsequent popes; that has been of no practical importance since

the new decree of Pius VII re-establishing the order, after it had

been forty-one years abolished. Until the time of that new decree,

the Church and all its members were bound, under its existing laws and

discipline, to recognize the abolition of the society as legitimate and

proper. In point of fact this was the case, the only exceptions being

the Jesuits themselves, and such as they could influence. Pius VI, the

immediate successor of Clement XIV, although he discharged from prison

some of the Jesuits who had been arrested and confined, suffered the

decree of Clement XIV to have full effect during his pontificate, and

held on to the confiscated property of the Jesuits for the benefit of

the Church. The Christians of Europe were satisfied with this condition

of things, and indicated this, not merely by their silent acquiescence,

but by acts of positive approval. The Jesuits, however, refused to

be reconciled, and exhibited their discontent by such measures of

resistance as proved, beyond question, their malevolent hatred of

Clement XIV and their contempt for the authority of the Church and

the pope, when it was employed to curb their ambition or to impose

upon them any form of restraint. Instances of their disobedience to

popes have already been cited; but at this particular crisis in their

history their desperation became such that they recognized nothing

as meritorious, either in the Church or any of the popes, except

what tended to restore to them the power they had forfeited by the

criminality of their conduct. Their society was abolished pursuant

to the law of the Church, and by its highest authority; but they had

no respect for either--not a whit more than they had for the papal

decrees by which their practice of the heathen rites in India and China

was forbidden. They sought after no other end than their own triumph,

and to achieve this they plotted with whomsoever would consent to aid

them, and threw themselves into the arms and under the protection of

the enemies of the Church, with the facility of such deserters as pass

from camp to camp to find shelter for themselves. This part of their

history presents their leading characteristics in a striking light, and

is, perhaps, more instructive than any other, because it shows with

conspicuous prominence the little esteem in which they hold the Church

and its legitimate authority when in conflict with their own purposes

and designs, and how ready they are to curse the popes who oppose them,

whatsoever their Christian virtues, and to praise all who favor them,

whatsoever their vices.

To give effect to the decree of abolition, the general of the Jesuits

was arrested and held in confinement; the members were dispersed among

different ecclesiastical establishments in Rome; their buildings were

taken possession of; seals were placed upon their papers; and their

schools were turned over to the management of others. Proceedings

were instituted against Ricci, the general, and other members of

the society, and he and the secretary, together with several of the

prominent fathers, were sent to the Castle of St. Angelo, and held as

State prisoners. The crimes charged against them, and of which they

were convicted, were "that they had attempted, both by insinuations and

by more open efforts, to stir up a revolt in their own favor against

the Apostolic See; that they had published and circulated through

all Europe libels against the pope," in one of which Clement XIV was

charged with having been elected by simony, and that three of the

most prominent Jesuits, "Favre, Forrestier, and Gautier, were loudly

repeating everywhere that the pope was the _Antichrist_."[145]

The society generally, but not unanimously, exhibited this same

spirit of resistance to the pope and the authority of the Church. By

the decree of abolition the members were allowed to act as secular

priests, and exercised sacerdotal functions, subject to the authority

of the Church. A few of them availed themselves of this provision, and

"settled themselves quietly in different capacities." Others endeavored

insidiously to preserve the principles of their constitution and

organization, by abandoning the name of Jesuits, and adopting other

titles. "But," says Nicolini, "_the greater part, the most daring and

restless, would not submit to the Brief of Suppression; impugned its

validity in a thousand writings; called in question the validity of

Clement's election, whom they called Parricide, Sacrilegious, Simoniac,

and considered themselves still forming part of the still existing

company of Jesus_."[146]

Catharine, Empress of Russia, had given some protection to the Jesuits

before their suppression, and Ricci, the general, admitted in his

examination that he had held correspondence with Frederick of Prussia

after the decree. How is it to be accounted for, in any mode consistent

with due respect for the Church, that the Jesuits in Russia did not

withdraw themselves from the protection of the emperor, and that others

sought shelter and protection in Prussia, after the decree of the pope

had declared the order to be forever abolished throughout the world?

Russia had long before rejected all the overtures of the Roman Church,

and established the Greek faith as the religion of the State, with the

reigning sovereign as the spiritual head of the national Church. The

Church of Rome taught that the Russians were schismatics, and therefore

heretics. The Prussians were Lutherans--that is, Protestants--and

were, consequently, looked upon at Rome as the deadly enemies of the

Church, and were, besides, under the ban of excommunication for heresy.

Consequently, an alliance of the Jesuits with either Russia or Prussia,

after their suppression, could be looked upon in no other light than as

an act of rebellion against the authority of the Church and the pope--a

desire to pass from the jurisdiction of the Church of Rome to that of

alien authority arrayed against it. It amounted to a desire to exchange

their allegiance from what they had considered legitimate authority to

that of schismatics and heretics. It is impossible for the Jesuits to

escape this view of the attitude they occupied after their abolition.

They were simply rebels against the Church.

The Jesuits in Silesia, in Prussia, refused positively to obey the

decree of Clement XIV--paying no more regard to it than if it had

been issued by the chief of an Arab tribe. They continued to hold

on to their convents and houses in the same manner as before their

suppression, in doing which they directly defied the pope. They

relied upon the Lutheran Frederick for protection, preferring that to

obedience to the pope. Frederick willingly gave them this protection,

because he was induced to believe that he could employ them for the

twofold purpose of strengthening monarchism, to which they were pledged

by their constitution, and of supplanting the Roman by the Protestant

form of Christianity. The Jesuits flocked, therefore, to Silesia

from all quarters, seeking this Protestant protection, which caused

Voltaire to remark, in his caustic style, that "it would divert him

beyond measure to think of Frederick as the general of the Jesuits, and

that he hoped this would inspire the pope with the idea of becoming

mufti."[147]

The Kings of France and Spain called the attention of Pius VI--after

the death of Clement XIV--to this disobedience of the Jesuits, and

urged upon him the necessity of requiring that the decree of Clement

XIV should be strictly enforced against them. But the attitude occupied

by Pius VI required him to observe extreme caution in administering the

affairs of the Church. As he had not been directly allied with either

of the factions among the cardinals at the time of his election, he

felt constrained to adopt a conservative and moderate course, whereby

he might, if possible, restore harmony in the Church. He therefore

refrained from identifying himself with the sovereigns who were hostile

to the Jesuits, and yet did not openly espouse the Jesuit cause.

Whatsoever his personal inclinations may have been, he could not, as

pope, venture to impugn the motives of his predecessor, or assail the

fairness and integrity of the decree abolishing the Jesuits. He could

not fail to realize that Clement XIV--a canonically elected pope, with

all the powers of that office in his hands--had taken the precaution

to declare that he intended the suppression to be absolute, final, and

forever. He knew also that, as the Jesuits had derived the authority

to exist as a religious order from the approval of one pope, it was

clearly competent for another pope to withdraw that approbation and

to dissolve the order, whensoever it became obvious to him that the

good of the Church required it. Under these circumstances, even if he

had desired to do so, he manifestly was not inclined to strike what

might prove to be a fatal and deadly blow at the dignity of the papal

office and the authority of the Church, which he undoubtedly desired to

maintain in all its completeness. Consequently, he not only continued

to preserve to the Church the confiscated property of the Jesuits,

but left the decree suppressing the order in full force, in all its

entirety, during his pontificate, which terminated during the last year

of the eighteenth century.

The Jesuit writers have taxed their ingenuity to the utmost to explain

the attitude of Pius VI towards their society. They have struggled hard

to prove that, notwithstanding he caused the decree of Clement XIV to

be executed, he was in fact opposed to it. One of them, heretofore

cited--whose work abounds in a mixture of apologies for their conduct

and vilification of their adversaries--says: "In the opinion of Pius

VI the Society of Jesus was _disbanded only for a time; it was not

abolished_."[148] To this it may be answered, in the first place,

there is nothing to show that Pius VI ever so committed himself; in

the second place, that Clement XIV decreed that it should be abolished

_forever_; and in the third place that, if he had considered the

society as suspended merely for a time, he would have revived it by

his own decree, or fixed the tenure of suspension. But this method of

treating the question is trifling with a serious matter which should

be treated with fairness and candor. It is equivalent to saying that

Pius VI executed the decree of his predecessor, which absolutely

abolished the society forever, when in his conscience he did not

approve it. If he did entertain this opinion, it is not shown to have

been authoritatively announced by him; and to allege that he did, in

the absence of proof to that effect, has the appearance of attempting

to substitute fiction for fact--to make history rather than to record

it.

The Jesuits, however, draw inferences of the favorable estimate

of their society by Pius VI from his kind treatment of Ricci, the

general, while confined in the castle of St. Angelo, and his release

from confinement of the other Jesuits who had been arrested. This is

far-fetched, inasmuch as it may well be attributed alone to motives

of benevolence. But in no event are these such acts as could limit,

in the least degree, the effect of the decree of abolition so long as

it continued in force, as it did during the pontificate of Pius VI.

Besides, the propriety of punishing individuals must have depended upon

their personal agency in the offenses charged against the society as

an organized body. The Jesuits derive more support to their claim that

Pius VI favored them by quoting language alleged to have been uttered

by him, which, if actually spoken, would place him in the attitude of

being upon their side and condemning the decree of his predecessor,

but without the courage to relieve them from the condemnation of their

conduct or from the Act of Suppression. This is not very complimentary

to Pius VI, for it represents him as saying, "I _approve_ of the

Society of Jesus residing in White Russia,"[149] at the same time that

he continued his assent to their abolition in all the Roman Catholic

States. The question whether or no he made this remark is in too much

doubt to give full credit to it. It is not pretended that the words

were written, but only that they were spoken in the presence of a

single witness, who is said to have attested their utterance. This

would place him in the attitude of performing a public act contrary to

his private judgment, which might well enough be done where temporal

matters only were involved, but not by a pope concerning spiritual

matters. Hence, it is scarcely to be supposed that Pius VI ever uttered

these words. But they amount to nothing which reaches the dignity of

an official act if he did, for the plain reason that the decree of

abolition having been a solemn official act, under "the seal of the

Fisherman," if subject at all to revocation or modification by any of

the successors of Clement XIV, could only have been so dealt with by

an official act of corresponding solemnity. For some causes judicial

decrees may be changed or annulled, but only by other judicial decrees,

and it will not be pretended, even by Jesuits, that a decree pronounced

by a pope under the authority of the Canon law and the unvarying custom

of the Church, is of less dignity than the decrees of the civil courts.

What is said by De Montor disproves the allegation of Daurignac. He

tells us that when the Jesuit general in Russia took such steps as

would have enlarged the society by the admission of neophytes, Pius

VI commanded him to cease. Whilst in this he does not seem to have

condemned the existence of the Jesuits in Russia, it emphatically

approves the decree of abolition by executing it elsewhere.

Not to condemn their existence in Russia was a simple act of omission,

differing essentially from a direct approval. But whether what he did

was the one or the other, it undoubtedly had the effect of enabling the

Jesuits in Russia to defy the decree of Clement XIV by keeping their

organization alive there, so that at the death of Ricci they elected

a successor of their own, who conducted himself and the society in

open opposition to the Church, the pope, and the Canon law.[150] All,

therefore, that can be justly said about Pius VI is, that he occupied

an equivocal attitude--not willing to approve directly by any official

act the existence of the society in Russia, yet leaving the decree of

suppression in full force.

But whatsoever Pius VI may have done or said, his immediate successor,

Pius VII, did "authorize the society to establish itself _in White

Russia_." This he did in 1801, twenty-eight years after the decree of

Clement XIV. It was not done, however, by a mere verbal declaration to

that effect, but by a formal bull, or brief, or decree--no matter by

what name it may be called--in observance of the usual formality. From

this it is to be implied that there had been no attempt to change or

limit the decree of suppression by Pius VI; for if there had been, this

repetition would have been unnecessary. Pius VII manifestly understood

that without the official solemnity of a new bull, brief, or decree, no

effect would have followed; that is, that his mere verbal assent, if

he had given it, would have amounted to nothing. But what he did was

equivocal, to say the least of it, by both affirming and disaffirming

the decree of Clement XIV. It affirmed it in so far as the decree

was left in force in the Roman Catholic States of Europe, where the

jurisdiction of the pope as the head of the Church was recognized; and

disaffirmed it in Russia, where the pope had no jurisdiction. It was

as much as to say that the Jesuits should not exist as an organized

society among Roman Catholics, but might do so among schismatics and

heretics. No matter what idea he intended to convey with regard to

their abolition among the former, he accepted it as an accomplished

fact which he was officially bound to recognize. To have done otherwise

would have been perilous to the Church by inciting the opposition of

the Roman Catholic sovereigns, who could not be reconciled to the

Jesuits, and would have offended the multitude of European Christians

who had approved their abolition. Up to the first year of the present

century, therefore, the decree of Clement XIV remained unreversed

throughout Europe, and wheresoever the jurisdiction of the pope was

recognized. Whatsoever the Jesuits did to resist, defeat, or evade

it, must, consequently, be considered willful disobedience to the

recognized and legitimate authority of the Church; in other words, as

rebellion.

This measure of leniency on the part of Pius VII had the effect upon

the Jesuits of making them bolder in their general conduct and more

vindictive in their denunciation of Clement XIV, whose name and memory

they assailed with fierce and foul aspersions. They flocked to Russia

in large numbers, as they had done to Silesia, from all the Roman

Catholic States, and, under the guidance of their skillful general

in that country, soon acquired the habit of acting as if they were

sure of an ultimate revival of their organization. Thus sustained,

it was not long before they re-entered Parma and Sicily, with the

implied if not express approval of Pius VII, who seems to have been

gradually preparing himself, by cautiously feeling his way, to espouse

their cause and to acquiesce in their defamation of Clement XIV. As

their hopes grew higher they began to repeat their old practices by

venturing to interfere with the temporal affairs of Governments, as

they had been accustomed to do before their suppression. They ventured

the attempt to domineer in Russia as they had formerly done in Spain,

France, Portugal, and elsewhere. Finding themselves, for a time,

unrebuked by the Russian authorities, they carried this interference

so far, and became so exacting in their demands, that the Russian

Government was compelled, in self-defense, to impose restraints upon

them. They had learned so well how to plot treason and rebellion in

the Roman Catholic States as to make themselves familiar with all the

artifices and instrumentalities most effective for those purposes, but

their Russian field of operations presented difficulties they had not

probably anticipated. The pope, whether for or against them, had no

power there, and they were required to deal only with the authorities

of that Government. Those authorities soon became convinced that

they had warmed a viper into life, and that the Jesuits could not be

trusted even in return for favors bestowed upon them. The Russian

emperor, Alexander, was consequently compelled to issue a royal ukase

in 1816, by which he expelled them from St. Petersburg and Moscow.

This proving ineffectual, he issued another in 1820, excluding them

entirely from the Russian dominions. The emperor set forth in his

decree that he had intrusted them with the education of youth, and

had imposed no restrictions upon their right to profess and practice

their own religion, but that they had "abused the confidence which was

placed in them, and misled their inexperienced pupils;" that whilst

they enjoyed toleration themselves, "they implanted a hard intolerance

in the natures infatuated by them;" and that all their efforts "were

directed merely to secure advantages for themselves, and the extension

of their power, and their conscience found in every refractory action

a convenient justification in their statutes." After showing how

insensible they were to the duties imposed on them by gratitude for

the protection Russia had extended to them after the abolition of

the society by the pope, and charging them with the egregious crime

of sowing tares and animosities among families, and tearing the son

from the father, and the daughter from the mother, Alexander asks

this emphatic and significant question: "Where, in fact, is the State

that would tolerate in its bosom those who sow in it hatred and

discord?"[151]

This was the first attempt made by any State not Roman Catholic to

expel the Jesuits, and it is not pretended, even by the Jesuits

themselves, that it was on account of their religion, which the

Russian Government allowed them to exercise freely. It must have been,

therefore, the consequence of their having convinced the Russian

authorities that they employed their religion as a pretext for their

interference with temporal and political affairs; and that they had

thereby made themselves rightfully amenable to the charges alleged

against them in the ukase of the emperor. It is no defense against

these charges to say that the emperor may have been mistaken. This

is not probable; for the fact of their having plotted against the

peace and interests of society in return for the favors he bestowed

upon them, would have justified him in condemning them even more

severely. There are very few offenses so base as ingratitude, which

excludes the higher emotions from the mind. He gave them shelter and

protection after the pope and the Roman Catholic powers had condemned

and abolished them; and but for this they would have passed away

forever, overwhelmed by the popular indignation. The very fact that he

found himself constrained to arraign them as he did, with such crushing

severity, is convincing proof of their ingratitude, as well as of their

inability to exist anywhere, in fidelity to their constitution, without

warring upon the peace of society and upon everything they are unable

to subdue and control.

It is to be presumed that the Jesuits professed submission to Russian

authority before the decree of Pius VII which allowed them to exist in

that country. But after the same pope re-established the order, as he

soon did, by another special decree, their schemes of ambition were

more actively and openly plotted. This last act, which restored them

to active life, was dated August 7, 1814, and inasmuch as it enabled

them to reproduce all their old machinery of mischief, it deserves to

be well considered, both as regards the character of the act itself,

and the motives of its author. It constitutes one of the important

events in modern history, the influences of which have not yet ceased,

and are not likely to cease so long as the contest between monarchism

and popular institutions shall continue. Pius VII was a monarchist

in principle, besides being a temporal sovereign. Monarchism was

seriously threatened, and was ready to accept whatsoever alliance its

defenders deemed essential to its preservation. Popular government

was the special dread of kings, and there were none of these who did

not understand that nowhere else in the world was it more severely

condemned than in the Jesuit constitution, and none who would rejoice

more at its extermination than the members of the Jesuit society. We

should glance, therefore, at the condition of the European nations at

the time of Pius VII, in order to penetrate his motives and comprehend

what he must have regarded as the necessity which influenced him in

aiding the Jesuits to cast reproach upon the memory of Clement XIV, one

of the most meritorious of his predecessors.

The French Revolution had made the attempt, in imitation of the example

of the United States, to scatter the germs of popular representative

government throughout Europe. Whatsoever errors sprang out of that

great movement are attributable more to the pre-existing influences

and prejudices of false education, and to the aid which monarchism

derived from the ill-fated union of Church and State, than to all

other causes combined. When the European States became convulsed by

this event, the Jesuits seized upon the opportunity to persuade the

reigning sovereigns that the support of their society as organized by

Loyola, was absolutely necessary to the preservation and continuance

of the principle of monarchy; and that without their co-operation the

people, who were incapable of conducting the affairs of government,

would triumph over kings. They assailed liberalism in every form,

from the French Encyclopædists to the humblest advocate of popular

government, consigning all of them to eternal tortures for venturing

to assert the natural right of mankind to civil and religious liberty.

This was congenial work to them; for, although not yet re-established,

they felt assured that if they could excite the fears of the sovereigns

at the probable loss of their royal authority, they would thereby

set in operation a current of influences which would soon reach Pius

VII, and lead him to disregard the decree of their abolition, and

to cast his lot along with the other kings, whatsoever effect might

be produced upon the fortunes of the Church. Loyola had founded the

order upon the plea of its necessity to counteract the influences of

the Reformation in the sixteenth century; and now in the nineteenth,

the same argument was repeated, so varied only as to embrace all the

existing fruits of the Reformation, including the right of the people

to self-government. The Jesuits did not miscalculate. They knew how to

excite both the fears and bigotry of the sovereigns. They understood

Pius VII, and succeeded at last in obtaining from him the decree for

their re-establishment, by virtue of which they have since existed,

and are now scattered throughout all the nations, with neither their

ambition nor thirst for power in the least degree slackened.

Everybody at all familiar with history understands how necessary it

was considered by the "Allied Powers" to recast the history of Europe

after the escape of Napoleon from the Island of Elba. For this purpose

their representatives assembled at the Congress of Vienna, and took to

themselves the name of the "Holy Alliance," which, according to Prince

Metternich--who was its leading spirit--was induced by "the overflow of

the pietistic feeling of the Emperor Alexander [of Russia], and _the

application of Christian principles to politics_;" in other words, "_a

union of religious and political-liberal ideas_."[152] This effort,

on the part of the monarchists of Europe was designed to give renewed

prominence to the idea that kings governed by divine right; in other

words, to establish the union between Church and State so completely

that it could never be again disturbed. It was intended to teach the

people that all the liberties they were entitled to possess were such

only as the governing monarchs deemed it expedient to grant them; that

they were entitled to none whatsoever by virtue of the natural law;

that the attempt to establish representative and liberal government,

like that of the United States, was an unpardonable sin against God;

and that the highest duty of citizenship was obedience to monarchical

authority.

Not the least conspicuous among the maneuvering sovereigns and

politicians of Europe at this time was Pius VII, who felt himself

to be the most illustrious and important representative of the

divine right of kings. He hated Napoleon intensely, if for no other

reason, because the "little Corsican" had arrested and held him in

confinement. In casting about to discover by what means he, as pope,

could render the most conspicuous aid to the cause of monarchism, and

the suppression of liberal and popular government, he naturally turned

in the direction of the Jesuits, whose fidelity to the principles

of absolutism was vouched for by the constitution of their society

and their intense devotion to the memory of Loyola. He, accordingly,

whilst the monarchs were preparing for the Congress of Vienna, and

only a few months before its assembling, anticipated their action

by re-establishing the society of the Jesuits. His prompt action

commended him to the allied sovereigns, who could not have failed

to see in it sufficient to assure them of his hostility to popular

government and his fidelity to the monarchical cause. His purposes

may be inferred from the language of his decree. He declared that he

should be derelict of duty, "if placed in the bark of Peter, tossed

and assailed by continual storms, we [he] refused to employ _the

vigorous and experienced rowers_ [the Jesuits], who volunteered their

services, in order to break the waves of a sea which threatened every

moment shipwreck and death."[153] What did he mean by the storms that

tossed and assailed the bark of Peter? The Governments were agitated by

political and military turmoil, but these things were not within the

rightful province of the Church or the pope. The Church was at peace,

except in so far only as Pius VII had voluntarily chosen to mix himself

up with the political struggles of kings, in order to preserve his own

temporal crown. That he intended to become an active party to these

struggles is proved by all that he said and did--even by the language

of his decree. In explaining his action, he says that Ferdinand, King

of Sicily, had requested the re-establishment of the Jesuits, because

it was necessary that they should be employed as instructors "in

forming youth to Christian piety and fear of God." Ferdinand was one

of the most bigoted kings and thorough monarchists in Europe, and his

idea of "Christian piety and fear of God" was, that it centered in

the divine right of kings and the union of Church and State. With him

religion and monarchism were synonymous terms. If he sometimes made

small concessions to his subjects from fear of the popular wrath, they

were always withdrawn when his power became strong enough to enable

him to renew his oppressions with impunity. He acted upon the Jesuit

principle that a monarchical sovereign is not bound by any promise he

makes to his subjects, for the reason that the latter have no rights

which the former are bound to recognize, and if they had, that the pope

could release him from the obligation to obey his promise--a doctrine

then strictly adhered to so as to make popular institutions impossible.

His main purpose was to perpetuate his own temporal and political

authority, and he desired to employ the Jesuits for that purpose, well

knowing that their doctrines were expressly designed to hold society

in obedience to monarchism. Pius VII did not hesitate to avow his

sympathy with Ferdinand, and in doing so proved that he was influenced

by the same temporal and political motives. He considered it necessary

that the crown of absolute sovereignty should be kept upon the head of

Ferdinand, in order to assure himself that it should be kept also upon

his own. The sovereigns of the "Holy Alliance" had massed large armies,

and soon entered into a pledge to devote them to the suppression of all

uprisings of the people in favor of free government; and he desired

to devote the Jesuits, supported by his pontifical power, to the

accomplishment of that end. He knew how faithfully they would apply

themselves to that work, and hence he counseled them, in his decree

of restoration, to strictly observe the "useful advices and salutary

counsels" whereby Loyola had made absolutism the corner-stone of the

society.

Thus the motives of Pius VII are clearly shown to have been temporal

and political, and when he excused himself on account of the

"deplorable times"--that is, the political disturbance among the

nations--he manifestly had in view the advancement of those plottings

against popular liberty which soon furnished the rallying point to

the "Holy Alliance" at Vienna. He seems to have been so intent upon

this subject as not to realize that he owed at least some show of

respect to the memory of Clement XIV. As if unconscious that when the

latter abolished the society, he also was the head of the Church,

possessing all the powers and prerogatives of a lawfully-elected pope,

he abrogated and annulled his decree as if it had possessed no higher

dignity than a municipal ordinance, imitating in this the practice of

those sovereigns who brush all impediments out of the paths of their

ambition. He conferred upon the Jesuits the right to exist as an

order throughout the world, and thereby approved and indorsed their

vilification of Clement XIV. And to show his own estimate of the

plenitude of his pontifical authority, he declared that his decree of

restoration should be "inviolably observed," and that it should "never

be submitted to the judgment or revision of any judge." And then,

as if he stood in the place of God, whilst Clement XIV had rebelled

against the Divine authority, he commanded that "no one be permitted

to infringe, or by an audacious temerity to oppose any part" of his

decree; and made disobedience to it an act of sin, by declaring that

he who shall be guilty of it "will thereby incur the indignation of

Almighty God, and of the holy apostles Peter and Paul." He treated

contemptuously the decree of Clement XIV, without the least pretense

that the Jesuits had repented of the crimes for which he abolished

their society after four years of careful investigation, and without

any pledge upon their part not to repeat them--a serious and dangerous

omission.[154]

One can not refrain from wondering why Pius VII did not pause long

enough to inquire, "Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed, that he

is grown so great?" What source of pontifical authority existed in his

behalf that did not also exist in behalf of Clement XIV? The one was no

more pope than the other--no more infallible than the other--possessed

no higher official prerogatives than the other. They were equals in

power and official dignity. If Clement XIV had _suspended_ the society,

then it would have been within the power of Pius VII to set aside the

suspension and revive the society. But he went further, and in the

most emphatic and express terms, _suppressed, abolished, annulled,

and extinguished it forever_. His official act was valid, complete,

and final, in compliance with the Canon law and established custom.

The society, therefore, had no legal existence according to the law

of the Church, but was dead and extinct when Pius VII became pope.

Its constitution was then a nullity. He had rightfully only the power

possessed by Paul III when he first established the society; and by

exercising this power could have organized a new society and granted

it a new constitution. Instead of this he "_re-established_" the

defunct society, at the request of King Ferdinand, thereby assuming

the prerogative right to review and annul what Clement XIV had done

within the scope of his legitimate authority. In order to do this, he

had further to assume that Clement XIV had exceeded his authority,

and had acted injuriously towards the Church, by depriving it of "the

vigorous and experienced rowers" necessary to save it from "shipwreck

and death." This was, in effect, to approve the Jesuit defamation

of Clement XIV, and to deny his infallibility. It was, moreover, an

implied approval of the rebellion of the Jesuits against the authority

of the Church during the forty-one years that had elapsed after the

abolition of their society. It was an attempt to cover up, sanction,

and legitimate that rebellion, and to reward the society for its

persistent defiance of the Church and the Canon law, by galvanizing its

dead body into life.

The Jesuits themselves are sensible of this difficulty, and are

perplexed by it. In dealing with it, Daurignac displays more ingenuity

than candor. Referring to the existence of the Jesuits in White Russia,

after the decree of abolition and in violation of it, he ventures to

say: "The position of the Jesuits in White Russia was an anomaly.

Clement XIV had authorized them to remain _in statu quo_."[155] He

fails to give any authority for this, for the obvious reason that

there is none. Nothing can be found to verify it. It is undoubtedly

of Jesuit manufacture, being contradicted by everything done and said

by Clement XIV. The language of his decree is conclusive upon the

point that his object was to destroy the society and put an end to it

forever--not allowing it to exist anywhere. He makes neither exception

nor reservation. Any other pretense is a palpable perversion of his

meaning. Daurignac manifestly realized this difficulty, and made an

additional effort to escape it by attempting to impair the official

force and effect of the decree of abolition. He says elsewhere: "In

view of the future, he [Clement XIV] would not suppress the society by

a _bull_, which would be binding upon his successors. He had suppressed

it by a _brief_, which could be revoked without difficulty whenever

public feeling might allow it."[156] The Jesuits have an "exchequer

of words" from which they draw at pleasure, employing them to express

or conceal the truth as shall be necessary to advance their interests

or improve their fortunes. Here there is an attempt to interpret the

meaning of the decree, not by the plain language it contains, but by

the name given to the instrument itself. In what does the difference

between a bull and a brief consist? If there is any, it must arise out

of the subject-matter involved, and not otherwise. One can conceive

that a pope may regulate some inferior affairs, touching matters not

essential to the universal Church, by an order or decree called a

brief, in which case he or his successors may revoke it. But where

such an order or decree concerns the universal Church, it must be

considered a bull, because in that case, according to the Jesuit

theory, it partakes of infallibility, and can not be revoked--for the

reason that whatsoever is infallible must stand for good or bad. The

decree of Clement XIV is found in the "_Roman Bullarium_," preserved

in the Vatican at Rome.[157] There could have been no other purpose

in placing it there than to attach to it the same dignity and effect

as the bulls of other popes among which it is recorded. When thus

deposited it was undoubtedly considered irrevocable, because it related

to a religious order which could exist only by authority of the pope

representing the whole Church. When the pope acts with reference to a

religious order, he decides whether or no it is capable of fulfilling

its professions. He then acts with reference to faith, and his act

is therefore _ex cathedra_. Upon this ground, according to Jesuit

teaching, he is infallible in whatsoever opinion he expresses, because

it is within the domain of both faith and morals. Hence, in the

discussion of the question "When does the Church speak infallibly?" a

recent Roman Catholic author of accepted authority says that, as the

Church can never be "an unreliable guide, it follows that she can not

err when she seals a religious order with her formal approbation."[158]

Of course, no argument is necessary to prove that if the pope is

infallible in establishing a religious order, he is equally so in

abolishing and annulling an existing one, upon the ground expressed

by Clement XIV, that the good of the universal Church and the cause

of Christianity demanded it, and also upon the additional ground that

the subject-matter is the same. This proposition can not be escaped by

substituting assertion for argument.

This same Jesuit author, Daurignac, is inconsistent. Seeming to forget

that he had called the decree of Clement XIV a mere _brief_, which any

of his successors could annul, when he comes afterwards to speak of

that issued by Pius VII, he calls it a "_bull_," and frequently refers

to it as such.[159] Having previously laid his foundation by insisting

that Pius VII regarded the preservation of the Jesuits by the Emperor

of Russia as "the interposition of Divine Providence in behalf of

the society"[160]--that is, that Clement XIV had incurred the Divine

displeasure when he abolished the society--he never loses sight of the

idea that the decree of Pius VII bears the stamp of infallibility,

and can neither be annulled nor modified. This is a subtle method

of statement, but is without the force of argument. It is simply

Jesuitical.

These matters derive their present importance from the fact that they

show how the Jesuits have become familiar with crooked paths. They

show also the wonderful adroitness with which they have pursued these

paths for many years, and how they have surmounted difficulties which

would have overwhelmed any other body of men. As they have never been

known, at any period of their history, to abate any of their demands

or pretensions, they are to-day, as they have always been, a standing

menace against every form of popular self-government and whatsoever

else is the fruit of the Reformation. Their rules of conduct are

still derived from the teachings of Loyola, who, accepted by them as

occupying the place of God, they regard as higher authority than any

human law or any Government where the sovereign power is guaranteed to

the people.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 145: Nicolini, p. 411.]

[Footnote 146: Nicolini, p. 422.]

[Footnote 147: Nicolini, pp. 424-425.]

[Footnote 148: Daurignac, Vol. II, p. 191.]

[Footnote 149: Nicolini, p. 432.]

[Footnote 150: De Montor, Vol. II, p. 406. Greisinger, p. 653.]

[Footnote 151: Nicolini, pp. 433-434. Greisinger, p. 665.]

[Footnote 152: Memoirs of Prince Metternich. By Prince Metternich. Vol.

I, page 262.]

[Footnote 153: Nicolini, p. 445.]

[Footnote 154: Nicolini, p. 447.]

[Footnote 155: Daurignac, Vol. II, p. 195.]

[Footnote 156: _Ibid._, p. 177.]

[Footnote 157: De Montor, Vol. II, p. 347.]

[Footnote 158: When Does the Church Speak Infallibly? By Thomas Francis

Knox, of the London Oratory. Page 67.]

[Footnote 159: Daurignac, p. 217.]

[Footnote 160: _Ibid._, p. 205.]

The Footprints of the Jesuits · 第 14 / 26 章