CHAPTER II

THE FIRST JESUITS

From this account of the influences which shaped the character of the

Society of Jesus before and during its birth we may derive our first

clue to the singular history of the Jesuits. They might not implausibly

make a proud boast of the fact that they have always borne the intense

hostility of heretics and unbelievers, but the very reason they assign

for this--their effective service to the Church--prevents them from

explaining why they have, from their foundation, incurred an almost

equal enmity on the part of a very large proportion of the monks,

priests, and laymen of their own Church. "Jealousy," they whisper;

but since no other body in the Church, however learned or active, has

experienced this peculiar critical concentration of its neighbours, we

are bound to seek a deeper explanation. There are distinctive features

of the Jesuit Society which irritate alike the pious and the impious,

the Catholic and the non-Catholic.

We begin to perceive these features at the very birth of the Society.

Its founder has the temper of a monk, but the times will not permit

the establishment of a monastic order of the old type; a new regiment

of soldiers of the Church must engage in active foreign service, not

degenerate into fatness in domestic barracks. The success of Ignatius

was due to the fact that he had other qualities than those of the monk,

and he met the new conditions with remarkable shrewdness. It seems

to me a mistake to conceive him as a soldier above all things. He was

pre-eminently a diplomatist. He infused into the Society the energy

and fearlessness of the soldier, but he also equipped it with the

weapons of the diplomatist, or, one might say, of the secret-service

man. He was a most sincerely and unselfishly religious man, but he

used, and taught others to use, devices which the profoundly religious

man commonly disdains. The Jesuits were Jesuits from the start. It is

a truism, a fulfilment of the known command of Ignatius, that they

sought the favour of the rich and powerful; it is a fact lying on the

very surface of their history, as written by themselves, that they

accommodated their ideals to circumstances as no other religious order

had ever done in the first decades of its life; it is the boast of

their admirers that they used "holy wiles" in the attainment of their

ends. This stamp was impressed on them by inheritance from their sire

and the pressure of their surroundings. These things were consecrated

by the undoubted sincerity of the early Jesuit ideal; they wanted

power only for the service of Christ and the salvation of men. What

happened later was that the inner fire, the glow of which sanctified

these worldly manoeuvres in the mind of the first Jesuits, grew dim and

languid, and the traditional policy was developed until even crime and

vice and hypocrisy were held to be lawful if they contributed to the

power of the Jesuits.

An examination of the rules and the activity of the early Jesuits will

make this clear. The Constitutions of the Society were not completed

by Ignatius until several years after the establishment, and they were

afterwards modified and augmented by Lainez, a less religious man than

Ignatius, but it will be useful to consider at once their distinctive

and most important features. In the main they follow the usual lines

of monastic regulations, and many points which are ascribed to the

soldier Ignatius and usually held to be distinctive of his Society are

ancient doctrines of the monastic world; such are, the duties of blind

obedience, of detachment from family and country, and of surrendering

one's personality. The famous maxim, that a Jesuit must have no more

will than a corpse, is familiar in every monastic body, and is even

found in the rules of Mohammedan brotherhoods. Some writers have

conjectured that Ignatius borrowed much from the Moorish fraternities,

but it is difficult to see how he could have any knowledge of them, and

the parallels are not important. In any case, the story of the Society

will very quickly show us that this grim theory of blind obedience and

self-suppression was not carried out in practice; even the earliest

Jesuits were by no means will-less corpses and men who sacrificed their

affections and individuality.

Omitting points of small technical interest, I should say that the

most significant features of the Jesuit Constitutions are: the

establishment of a large body of priests (Spiritual Coadjutors) between

the novices and the professed members, the extraordinary provisions

by which a superior gets an intimate knowledge of his subjects, the

stress on the duty of teaching, the distinction between a "house" and

a "college," the deliberate recommendation to prefer youths of wealthy

or distinguished families (_cæteris paribus_) to poor youths, the

despotic power and lifelong appointment of the General, the fallacious

and imposing vow of direct obedience to the Pope, and the absence of

"choir." These primitive and fundamental features of the Society,

taken in conjunction with the special privileges which the Society

gradually wheedled from the Popes, go far toward explaining its great

material success and its moral deterioration. Some of these points need

no explanation, or have already been explained, and a few words will

suffice to show the effect of the others.

First as to the Spiritual Coadjutors. One who aspires to enter the

Society passes two years of trial as a "novice," then takes "simple"

(or dissolvable) vows and becomes a "scholastic" (student). In the

other monastic bodies, which now have simple vows, the aspirant takes

his "solemn" (or indissoluble) vows three years afterwards, before he

becomes a priest. The peculiarity of the Jesuits is that they defer the

taking of the "solemn" vows for a considerable number of years, and

they thus have a large body of priests who are not rigidly bound to the

Society and cannot hold important office in it. This gives the General,

who has a despotic power of dismissing these Spiritual Coadjutors, a

very lengthy period for learning the intimate character of men before

they are admitted to the secrets of the Society.

Then there is the remarkable scheme of spying, tale-bearing, and

registering by which this knowledge of men is secured. The aspirant

must make a general confession of his life to the superior, or some

priest appointed by him, when he enters the Society. He is from that

day closely observed and subjected to extraordinary tests, and a

strict obligation is laid on each to tell the faults and most private

remarks of his neighbour. The local superiors then send periodical full

reports on each man to the headquarters at Rome, where there must be

a bureau not unlike the criminal intelligence department of a great

police-centre: except that the good and the mediocre are as fully

registered as the suspects.

The important place assigned to teaching in the programme of the

Society also leads to serious modifications of the monastic ideal.

Every order has some device or other by which it escapes the practical

inconveniences of its vow of poverty, but the Jesuits have gone beyond

all others. They have drawn a casuistic distinction between a "college"

and a "house of the professed," and have declared that the ownership of

the former is not inconsistent with their vow of poverty. The result is

that they may heap up indefinite wealth in the shape of colleges and

their revenues, yet boast of their vow of poverty. The various devices

of the monastic bodies to, at the same time, retain and disclaim the

ownership of their property are many and curious. This is the one

instance of a monastic body boldly saying that its vow is consistent

with the ownership of great wealth. Hence the mercantile spirit which

will at once spread in the Society.

The deliberate counsel to prefer rich or noble youths to poor, when

their other qualifications are equal, is a further obvious source of

material strength and moral weakness; we shall soon find them making

wealth, or social standing, or talent, the first qualification. The

exemption from "choir" (or chanting the psalms in choir for several

hours a day) falls in the same category. When we add to these elements

of their Constitutions the extraordinary privileges they secured from

the Popes in the course of a decade or two, we have the preliminary

clues to the story of the rise and fall of the Society. They were

allowed to grant degrees in their colleges (and so ruin and displace

universities); they were declared exempt from the jurisdiction of the

local authorities, spiritual or secular; they might encroach on the

sphere of any existing monastery; and they received many other powers

which enabled them to pose as unique representatives of the Papacy.

The tendency which we thus detect in the legislation of the Society is

equally visible in much of the personal conduct of its founder, and

soon shows its dangers in the lives of his less fervent followers. We

have seen how the sanction of the Society was secured, and we must

note that Ignatius was not more ingenuous in obtaining control of it.

The conventional account of his appointment to the office of General

is edifying. About Easter 1541 he summoned to Rome, for the purpose of

electing a General, the nine fathers who had taken the solemn vows.

Four were unable to come, but they sent, or had left at Rome, written

votes, and Ignatius was unanimously elected. He protested, however,

that he was unworthy to hold the office, and compelled them to hold

a second ballot. At this ballot he received two-thirds of the votes,

three being cast for Favre. He then consulted his confessor, and was

told to accept the office; and for several days afterwards he washed

the dishes and discharged the humblest offices.

Orlandini naively confesses, however, that at the election Ignatius

gave a blank vote, and we can hardly suppose that he was so far lost

in contemplation as to be unaware that a blank vote was a vote for

himself. Further, the result of the second ballot plainly suggests

that, if Ignatius had again refused to accept the office, Favre would

have been appointed. It is difficult to doubt that he intended from

the first to hold the office of General, and indeed it would have been

ludicrous for them to appoint any other. But Ignatius knew his young

followers, and he seems to have acted in this way in order that they

might place the authority in his hands in the most emphatic manner.

They are described in the chronicles as little less than angelic, but

we shall presently find that some of them were very human, especially

in the matter of obedience, and that at the death of Ignatius they

quarrel like petty princes for the succession. Ignatius was piously

diplomatic. He would use his power unreservedly in the cause of Christ

and the Pope, but it is important to note how from the start the

founder of the Society employs casuistry or diplomacy in _getting_

power.

During the next fifteen years Ignatius remained at Rome, making only

three short and relatively unimportant missions into Italy. They

had moved from the house in the Piazza Margana to the foot of the

Capitoline Hill, where the famous church of the Gesù now is. The old

church of Sta Maria della Strada had been given to them, and Codacio

(who had joined the Society and given his wealth to it) had built

a house beside it for them. When Sta Maria proved too small, they

proposed to build a larger church, and nearly secured the services

of Michael Angelo; but the actual Gesù was begun in 1568 by Cardinal

Alexander Farnese.

From their house beside the old church the keen eyes of the General

followed the travels of his subjects to the ends of the earth and kept

watch on Rome. He was now approaching his fiftieth year: a bald, worn

man, with piercing black eyes in his sallow face, concealing an immense

energy and power of intrigue under his humble appearance. Under his eye

the novices were trained, and it was characteristic that he used to

protest, when others urged him to expel an unruly brother, that--to put

it in modern phrase--he liked a little "devil" in his novices. One of

the first was young Ribadeneira, a cardinal's page, a noble by birth.

He had come to their house one day when he was playing truant, and had

been caught by the romance of the life. He was only fourteen years old,

yet Ignatius received him and bore his fits of temper and rebellion

until he became a useful and obedient member. Between the fiery Spanish

boy and the aged and simple Codacio, the former papal official, there

was every shade of character to be studied and humoured. The younger

novices--they went down to the age of eleven--were encouraged to

laugh and play, and come to the General's room to have fruit peeled

for them; perhaps on the very day on which he was stirring the Pope

to set up an Inquisition on the Spanish model at Rome or in Portugal.

He loved the flowers of their garden, and tender ladies had no more

sympathetic confidant. Great austerities, of the Manresa type, he

rigorously forbade. The Jesuit was to be neat, clean, cheerful, strong,

industrious, guarded in speech--and obedient. When it was necessary to

strike, he struck at once. One night, when the prefect of the house

came to make his report, it appeared that one of the novices (a young

nobleman) had ridiculed the excessive zeal of another. Brother Zapata

was at once summoned from bed and put out of doors.

His personal life was simple, to the eye. A Bible, a breviary, and an

_Imitation of Christ_ were the only books in his poor chamber, which is

still shown to the visitor; and of these the breviary was not used, as

he wept so much in reading the office that he endangered his sight, and

the Pope excused him from reading it. He spent the first four hours of

his early day in meditation and the saying of Mass, then worked until

noon, when all dined together, in silence, and afterwards spent an

hour in conversation under his observant eye. Then he returned to his

desk, or took his stick and his sombrero, and limped to the hospital,

or to the houses of the very poor or the rich, or to the chambers of

cardinals or papal officials. Many a jeer and curse followed him as

he walked, in neat black cloak, with downcast eyes and grave smile,

courteous to every beggar or noble who addressed him. Rome was rich

with monuments of his philanthropy--schools, orphanages, rescue-homes,

etc.; but the fierce hostility never died, and at times it rose to the

pitch of a gale. After his round of visits he limped back, grave and

humble, to the house for the silent evening meal. When the novices were

abed, the prefect came to give him a minute account of the day's life

in the house, and, when the prefect was abed, the large eyes still

flashed in the worn, olive-tinted face. He slept only four hours a

night.

But all these pages of the written biography of Ignatius are of less

interest than the unwritten. To understand his real life during those

fifteen years of twenty-hour workdays you have to study the adventures

of his colleagues far away: to mark how the hostility of bishops

and doctors and princes is disarmed by a papal privilege or a papal

recommendation, how the Protestant plague cannot break out anywhere

but a Jesuit appears, how the most nicely fitted man is sent for each

special mission, how the man disappears when there is, rightly or

wrongly, a cry of scandal, how the long white arms of Ignatius Loyola

seem to stretch over the planet from Sta Maria della Strada, near the

Pope's palace. This vast and obscure activity of the General will be

best gathered from a short survey of the fortunes of the Jesuits during

his reign.

The first mission of interest to us, though not quite the first in

point of time, was the sending of two Jesuits to the British Isles. It

seemed that England was lost, and all that could be done was to resist

Henry's attempt to stamp out the old faith in Ireland and persuade

James V. to follow his profitable example in Scotland. The mission was

perilous, for, on the word of these Jesuits of the time, nearly every

chief in Ireland had gone over to Protestantism, and in Scotland the

nobles and officials were looking with moist lips at the fat revenues

of the monasteries. The Archbishop of Armagh, who had fled to Rome,

asked the Pope to send two Jesuits to his country, and Codure and

Salmeron were appointed. Codure died, however, during the negotiations,

and Paschase Brouet was named in his place. As usual, Ignatius chose

his men with shrewdness. Brouet, the "angel of the Society," was the

counterpart of Salmeron's vigour and learning. They were granted the

privileges of Nuncii by the Pope, though Ignatius directed them to

mention these privileges only when the success of the mission required.

In fact, he gave them a written paper of instructions as to their

personal behaviour when, on 10th September 1541, they left for Paris

and Edinburgh. They were to travel as poor Jesuits--but the wealthy

young noble Zapata was permitted to accompany and care for them.

What the precise aim of this mission was we do not know, but it

was from every point of view a complete failure. It is, of course,

represented as a success, and its purpose is said to have been merely

to hearten the suffering Irish people in their resistance and convey

to them indulgences and absolutions. But from the circumstances of

the time and the duration of the mission we may be sure that the two

Jesuits learned very little English, and less or no Gaelic, so that

the idea seems absurd. In Scotland, certainly, their mission was

political. They saw James at Stirling Castle, and easily got from him

an assurance that he would resist the allurements of Henry VIII. What

they trusted to do in Ireland we are not informed, and it seems most

reasonable to suppose that they were to see the chiefs and stiffen them

in their opposition to England. This they wholly failed to do, for the

leading men would have nothing to do with them. The customary Catholic

version of the enterprise is that they happily accomplished their

mission, traversed "the whole of Ireland" (as even Francis Thompson

says), consoling and absolving, and went home to report success. One

fears that this account may be typical of these early Jesuit reports

of missions. To learn Gaelic and traverse the whole of Ireland, or any

large part of it, in thirty-four days (Orlandini), in the sixteenth

century, and in circumstances which compelled them to travel with the

greatest prudence, would assuredly be a miracle, especially when we are

told that for some time even the common folk shrank from them, and it

is hinted that the scattered Irish priests were unfriendly.

Apparently they travelled a little in disguise, or hid in the

farms here and there, for a few weeks, granting indulgences and

dispensations, probably through some Gaelic interpreter, until the

English officials heard of their presence and put a price on their

heads. The Jesuit narrative credits them with the bold idea of going to

London and bearding the wicked Henry in his palace. Their behaviour was

singularly prudent for men with such exalted ideas. Leaving Ireland,

possibly at the entreaty of the Irish, as soon as the search for them

grew hot, they returned to Scotland, and finding that country also

aflame, they went on at once to Paris. There they received orders to

return to Scotland and discharge a secret mission similar to that

they had had in Ireland. They "hesitated and informed the Pope of the

state of things in Scotland," says the Jesuit historian; in fact, they

remained in Paris until the Pope allowed them to return to Rome. If any

be disposed to criticise their conduct, he may be reminded that Brouet

and Salmeron had spent several weeks in Ireland at the risk of their

lives. However, it is plain that we have to look closely into these

early Jesuit accounts of missions which covered the infant Society with

glory. A prudent examination of them discovers features which have been

carefully eliminated from later Jesuit, or pro-Jesuit, works on the

subject.

As Henry VIII. died in 1547, and Edward VI. in 1553, it may seem

singular that Ignatius did not, when the Catholic Mary acceded to the

throne, at once dispatch a band of his priests to help in restoring the

old faith. Neither Orlandini nor his discreet follower, Crétineau-Joly,

throws any light on the mystery, but a few important hints may be

gathered from the more candid early Jesuit historian Polanco, a close

associate of Ignatius, and the full solution is indicated in Burnet's

_History of the Reformation_ (ii. 526, in the Oxford edition). This

rare discovery of an independent document suggests that the early story

might read somewhat differently in many particulars if we were not

forced to rely almost entirely on Jesuit authorities.

From the brief statements scattered over the various volumes of

Polanco's _Historia Societatis_ it appears that from 1553 until his

death Ignatius made the most strenuous efforts to secure admission into

England. Cardinal Pole, it seems, asked the prayers of Ignatius for

his success when he was summoned to England, and, when Ignatius died

and Lainez again approached Pole, the cardinal pointedly replied that

the only way in which the Jesuits could aid him was by their prayers.

In the meantime (1554) Ignatius pressed Father Araoz, who was in great

favour at the Spanish court, to urge Philip, and induce ladies of the

court to urge him, to take Jesuits to England. In 1556 he sent Father

Ribadeneira, a courtly priest, to join Philip in Belgium and press the

request, but the reply was always that Pole was opposed to admitting

the Jesuits. Polanco makes it quite clear that Pole resisted all the

efforts of Ignatius from 1554 to 1556.

Burnet supplies the solution of the mystery. A friend of his discovered

a manuscript at Venice, from which it appears that Ignatius had

overreached himself and aroused the hostility of the cardinal. He

had written to Pole that, as Queen Mary was restoring such monastic

property as had fallen to the throne, it would be advisable to

entrust this to the Jesuits, since the monks were in such bad odour

in England; and he added that the Jesuits would soon find a way to

make other possessors of monastic property disgorge. Pole refused

their co-operation and left the Jesuits angry and disappointed. The

historian cannot regard an anonymous manuscript as in itself deserving

of credence, but the statement very plausibly illumines the situation.

I may add that in 1558 Father Ribadeneira was actually smuggled

into England in the suite of Count Gomez de Figueroa, who had gone

to console the ailing Queen.[2] The count was a warm patron of the

Jesuits, but Queen Mary died soon after his arrival, and the last hope

of the Jesuits was extinguished.

We cannot examine with equal freedom all the chronicles of early Jesuit

activity, and must be content to cull from the pages of the _Historia

Societatis Jesu_, the first section of which is written by Father

Orlandini, such facts as may enable us to form a balanced judgment

of the Society under Ignatius. Italy was, naturally, the first and

chief theatre of their labours, and in the course of a few years they

spread from the turbulent cities of Sicily to the foot of the Alps.

I have already described the work of Ignatius at Rome, and need add

only that, as Orlandini tells us, he was one of the most urgent in

pressing the reluctant Pope to "reform" the Roman Inquisition, or to

equip it with the dread powers of the Spanish tribunal. At the very

time when he was devising pleas for toleration in Protestant and

pagan lands, he was urging that in Italy and Portugal there should be

set up the most inhuman instrument of intolerance that civilisation

has ever known. The psychology of his attitude is simple; he was

convinced that he was asking tolerance for truth and intolerance for

untruth. The liberal-minded Romans were not persuaded of the justice

of his distinction, and the opposition to the Society increased. The

hostility, which at times went the length of breaking Jesuit windows,

is ascribed by his biographers chiefly to his zeal for the conversion

of prostitutes. He founded a large home for these women, and would

often follow them to their haunts in the _piazze_ and lead them himself

to St. Martha's House. On the whole, his great philanthropic services

and personal austerity secured respect for his Society at Rome, and it

prospered there until his later years.

In the south of Italy the Society met little opposition in the early

years. Bobadilla had done some good work in troubled Calabria before

the Society was founded, and within the next ten years colleges were

opened at Messina (1548), Palermo (1549), and Naples (1551). The poet

Tasso was one of the first students of the Naples college. It was in

the north that the more arduous work had to be done. The seeds of the

Reformation were wafted over the Alps and found a fertile soil in the

cities of the Renaissance. Hardly anywhere else were monks and clergy

so corrupt and ignorant, and nowhere was there so much familiarity

with the immorality of the Vatican system. Rome itself lived on this

corruption and regarded it with indulgence, but in the university

towns of the north educated men, and even women, who almost remembered

the lives of Sixtus IV., Innocent VIII., Alexander VI., Julius II., and

Leo X., were but provoked to smile when they were exhorted to cling to

the "Vicar of Christ."

To tear these prosperous seedlings of heresy out of the soil of

northern Italy was the congenial task of the early Jesuits, and Lainez,

Brouet, and Salmeron, with some of the new recruits, went from city

to city, challenging the Protestants to debate, strengthening the

Catholics to resist, and founding colleges for the sound education

of youth. Their procedure, and the resentment it constantly excited,

may be illustrated by their experience at Venice. Lainez was sent by

the Pope to Venice in 1542, at the request of the Doge. An honourable

apartment awaited him in the Doge's Palace, but he humbly declined

and went to live among the sick at the squalid hospital, varying his

learned campaign against the Lutherans with the lowliest services

to the poor and ailing. Many were edified, especially one Andrea

Lippomani, an elderly and wealthy noble. Presently there came an

instruction from Ignatius that Lainez must accept the hospitality

offered him by Lippomani; and a little later the noble's heirs were

infuriated to learn that he had assigned a rich benefice of his at

Padua to the Jesuits. They appealed to the Venetian Council, and lost,

for Lainez and Salmeron were ordered by the General to defend the

donation. So the first college of the Society was founded, at Padua,

and Lippomani afterwards enabled them to found one at Venice. Whatever

view one takes of it, this was the normal procedure: tend the sick and

beg your bread until "men of wealth and position" open their purses,

then throw all your energy into the founding of colleges and the

securing of novices. It was unquestionably a most effective method of

serving the Church; it also had an aspect which attracted critics.

In the Catholic atmosphere of Spain and Portugal the Society might be

expected to grow luxuriantly, as it eventually did, but its fortunes

in the Peninsula are rather due to the General's policy of securing

influential patrons than to any popular welcome. As early as 1540

Ignatius had sent his nephew Araoz into Spain, and one reads--between

the lines--that he had little success. At last a college was founded

at Alcalà, to the anger of many of the University professors. One

professor maintained his opposition so long and so violently that

Father Villanueva, the Jesuit rector, fraternally informed him that

the Inquisition proposed to put him a few questions, and the professor

sullenly withdrew. Then a learned ex-rector of the university itself

was won by Ignatius, during a visit to Rome, and was sent back, a

Jesuit, to found a college at Salamanca. It was, as usual, founded in

poverty; the fathers had not even a crucifix to put over their altar,

and one of their number had to draw the figure on a sheet of paper.

From the general laws of these phenomena one might deduce that the

story brought a shower of crucifixes. However, the favour of the King

of Portugal and the influence of Rome smoothed their paths, and little

colonies were soon planted at Valladolid, Toledo, Saragossa, and other

towns.

It was in Spain that the Society encountered the most virulent of its

early Catholic antagonists, Melchior Cano. He was a very learned and

sober Dominican monk, and a professor at the university: an enemy

of mysticism and eccentricity. He knew of the early penances and

"visions" of Ignatius, and had seen him at work in Rome. When the pale,

black-robed, mysterious youths walked demurely into learned Salamanca

and set up a college for the instruction of youth, the monk erupted.

They were hybrids--neither the flesh of the secular clergy nor the

fish of the regular clergy: they were leeches, fastening on wealthy

saints and sinners; and so on. Miguel de Torres, the rector, called

upon the irate friar, and told him of the great privileges the Pope

had bestowed on the Society and the high missions he had entrusted to

its members. This inflamed him still more, and he flung at them Paul's

fiery warnings against the hypocrites who would come after him. He

exaggerated heavily, especially in regard to the personal character

of the Jesuits, but he saw very clearly those dangerous features and

practices of the early Society which I have indicated. The struggle

came to a diplomatic close. Melchior Cano was appointed Bishop of the

Canaries, and the Jesuits invite us to admire the way in which Ignatius

returned good for evil. It may be added that Cano afterwards recognised

the ruse, laid down his mitre, and returned to plague his benefactors.

In the midst of this conflict the Jesuits made a most important

convert, and their future in Spain was assured. Francis Borgia, Duke of

Gandia, one of the leading nobles of the kingdom, met and was enchanted

by Favre in 1544, when the King of Portugal brought that gentle and

persuasive Jesuit on a visit to the Spanish court. He was conducted

through the Exercises by Favre, one of the most lovable and sincere of

the early fathers. When Favre died two years afterwards, prematurely

worn by his labours, Borgia wrote to ask Ignatius to admit him to the

order. Observe the procedure once more. He was secretly initiated, not

even the Pope knowing his name: which enabled him to remain in the eyes

of men the Duke of Gandia, and shower his wealth and his patronage on

the Society. It really matters little what lofty purposes are alleged

for such sinuous procedure; it was a new policy in the history of

religious founders. When, a few years later, the Pope offered a

cardinal's hat to the Duke of Gandia, and the King of Spain insisted

that he should accept it, the truth had to come out. Ignatius had

sternly enjoined that no dignity should ever be accepted by any member

of his Society, yet, to avoid giving offence to the king, he said that

he left the decision to Borgia.

Under Borgia's patronage the net of the Society spread over Spain, many

blessing and some cursing. At Saragossa, where they had built a chapel,

the Augustinian friars complained that it encroached on their sphere.

To prevent unedifying conduct on the part of rival friars, the Church

had decreed that no order should establish itself within five hundred

feet of a house belonging to a different order. When the Jesuits

who had broken this law, refused to yield, they were excommunicated

by the Vicar-General, and a pleasant procession was arranged by the

townsfolk, in which effigies of damned Jesuits were propelled toward

their destination by little devils. The Augustinians were popular. But

the long arm of Ignatius was extended once more, and the Papal Nuncio

intervened in favour of the Jesuits. Before many years the Jesuits won

from the Pope a declaration that the law did not apply to them, and

they might build where they pleased. They prospered, and were hated.

An incident of the same significance occurred at Alcalà. The college

obtained many pupils, though little wealth, and the Jesuit fathers

began to be very active. In 1551 they were surprised to hear that the

Archbishop of Toledo had suspended the whole of them from priestly

functions for daring to hear confessions without his authorisation.

The Jesuits produced their privileges, and persuaded the Governor of

Toledo, and even the Royal Council, to explain to the prelate that the

Pope had exempted them from the jurisdiction of bishops. He refused to

recognise such extraordinary privileges, and maintained the suspension.

Ignatius then laid the matter before the Pope, and the Archbishop was

directed from Rome to withdraw his opposition.

When we turn to Portugal we find an interesting illustration of the

early effect of great prosperity on the Society. On the throne at the

time was John III. from whose reign all historians date the downfall of

what had become one of the most brilliant and wealthy Powers in Europe.

Blind to the gross administrative corruption in his kingdom, and to the

decay of the stirring patriotism which had borne the Portuguese flag

over the globe, John was concerned only about the religious needs of

his country and his new colonies. He had invited Xavier and Rodriguez

in 1540, intending to send them to the Indies, but he was so charmed

with them that he wished to keep them in Portugal. Ignatius allowed

Rodriguez to remain, and Xavier set out on his historic mission to the

far east. In this Ignatius showed his usual discernment: Rodriguez

proved as supple and graceful a courtier as Xavier proved a fiery

missionary. John then wished to entrust the tutorship of his son to

Rodriguez, and Ignatius consented. His own followers were puzzled at

times to know which _were_ the dignities that they were forbidden to

accept. When John asked for a Jesuit confessor, Rodriguez refused, but

Ignatius overruled him. The next step was to set up the Inquisition,

through the mediation of Ignatius, and Orlandini admits that when, in

1555, the king wished to make Father Merin, his confessor, head of the

Inquisition, Ignatius seriously considered the proposal. He did not

refuse, as is sometimes said; the negotiations broke down.

In this genial atmosphere the Society flourished. Its chief college was

at Coimbra, the great university centre, where the Jesuits rapidly ran

their course. At first they shocked staid Catholics with the excesses

of their zeal. A youth in the college confessed to temptations of the

flesh, and was ordered to walk the streets at mid-day without a hat

or a cloak, holding a skull in his hand. Another student went forth

almost naked in a cold wind, begging from door to door; and, finding a

crowd of folk dancing and singing in a church, he mounted the pulpit

to admonish them, and was dragged out and severely chastised. At

nights Father Simon would send out a procession of youths to cry in

the ears of indignant sinners or quiet wine-bibbers some such doggerel

as: "Hell, hell, hell, for those in grave sin"; or long processions

of children with masks and lanterns paraded the streets and squares.

We gather that the boys of Coimbra had a pleasant time during these

exhibitions. But the college flourished; there were in a few years

a hundred and fifty pupils in it, and it supplied large numbers of

missionaries.

In 1546 Favre visited Coimbra, and reported to Ignatius that prosperity

had flushed the veins of his brothers. Nicolini and other anti-Jesuit

writers speak of the college as having become a place of "debauch,"

but this is not stated in the chronicles. Frivolity and good-living

are the only vices charged, whatever we may suspect. The students

stooped to writing sonnets, and the King's money provided plenty of

good cheer. Ignatius felt that Father Simon had lost his fervour at

the court, deposed him from office--he was Provincial (or head of the

province)--and ordered him to go either to Brazil or Aragon. The piety

of Rodriguez had evidently deteriorated, and he made a struggle to

hold his place. He was a handsome and comfortable man, much liked for

his liberality. He went to Coimbra, where Ignatius had appointed a new

rector, and the liberals tried to induce the court to protect them.

The King was alarmed, however, and Father Simon had to submit, and the

college to mend its ways. Numbers of students left or were expelled,

and for the rest, when the new rector piously walked the streets of

Coimbra, laying the bloody lash on his own bare shoulders, they fell to

tears and went out in a body scourging themselves under the eyes of the

townsfolk. The story ends in Orlandini with Simon Rodriguez submitting

in holy joy and kissing the rebuking letters of his General. But when

we turn to Sacchini, the Jesuit writes of the next section of the

"Historia Societatis Jesu," who does not always carefully notice what

his predecessor has said, we learn that Rodriguez smarted for years

under the humiliation, and awaited an opportunity to undo it. However,

the province returned to piety, and before the death of Ignatius we

find the Jesuits capturing, after a long siege, the famous University

of Coimbra.

In France the Society wholly failed under Ignatius. He placed students,

supported by wealthy patrons, at the University of Paris, and sent

fathers after a time to gather their neophytes under one roof. Then the

outbreak of war with Spain drove most of them abroad, and even when the

war was over the colony made slow progress, amid poverty and hostility.

In 1549 Ignatius won the favour of Cardinal Guise de Lorraine and,

through him, of the French court. The King issued letters authorising

the Jesuits to live and teach at Paris, and Brouet was sent to

conciliate the Parisians. Then began a long and famous struggle between

the Parlement and University of Paris and the court and Jesuits.

Parlement bluntly refused to register the King's letters, and they

were of no effect until this powerful legal body had accepted them.

Henry ordered his Privy Council to examine the Jesuit Constitutions and

approve them; Parlement retorted by inviting the Archbishop, who was

very hostile, and the theological faculty of the university to advise

it, and the issue was a violent condemnation of the Jesuits in the vein

of Melchior Cano. It was said that they admitted all sorts of aspirants

to their ranks, and that the extraordinary privileges they professed

to have were insulting to the spiritual and temporal authorities and

opposed to the interests of the other orders and the university.

In the main, it was undoubtedly the privileges of the Jesuits which

made the greater part of Paris and of France hostile to them. Bishops

were not to look at them, civic authorities were not to tax them,

universities were to be opposed by free classes, and were to respect

degrees granted by Jesuits to any whom they thought fit. The hostility

was quite natural, and it was fed by indiscretions on the part of the

Jesuits. They received a nephew of the Archbishop, against the uncle's

will, and they first turned the brain (with their Exercises) of, and

then put out of doors, a very learned ornament of the university

named Postel. The Archbishop bade them leave Paris, and they remained

helpless outside the city, at St. Germain aux Prés, until after the

death of Ignatius. He pressed the case at Rome, and doctors of the

Sorbonne went there to exchange arguments with Jesuit doctors, but

nothing was done until years afterwards.

During the war the Spanish Jesuits had gone from Paris to Louvain and

began to teach there. Here again the university scorned and opposed

them, and for many years (until they secured the interest of the

Archduchess) they made no progress. Ribadeneira, who was in charge,

used to break down and retire from the room to weep. In Germany they

had a different and more spirited struggle, but they seem to have had

little influence in the various conferences and diets at which attempts

were still made to reconcile the parties. Favre was at the Diet of

Worms in 1540, then at the Ratisbon Conference, where Bobadilla and

Le Jay succeeded him. They were restricted to an effort to reform the

Catholics themselves, and found it difficult. The letters of these

early Jesuits make it quite impossible for any historian to question

the appalling corruption of priests, monks, and people in every part

of Europe at the time of the Reformation. From Worms Favre wrote to

Ignatius that there were not three priests in the city who were not

stained by concubinage or crime. At Ratisbon the Catholics threatened

to throw Le Jay into the river. "What does it matter to me whether I

enter heaven by water or land?" he said. They knew very little German,

generally preaching in Latin, and had slight influence for some years.

In time, as they learned German, and confined themselves to the

Catholic provinces, their work was more successful. They fastened

especially on Cologne, and assailed the Archbishop, a very worldly

prelate of the old type, who was annoyed to find these Jesuit wasps

buzzing about him, and their house was closed for a time by the

authorities. But they had the favour of the Emperor, and the Archbishop

was deposed. In 1545 the Council of Trent opened, and Lainez and

Salmeron appeared there as the Pope's theologians, together with

Peter Canisius (an able German student whom Favre had attracted to

the Society) as theologian of the new Archbishop of Cologne. It need

only be said of the earlier sittings of the famous Council (in 1545

and 1551) that the Jesuits had little influence, and this they used to

oppose any concession to the Protestants and magnify the authority of

the Pope. This will be plainer in connection with the later sittings.

The work in Germany was afterwards thwarted by the zeal of the fiery

Bobadilla. It had at last come to war with the Protestants, to the

satisfaction of the Jesuits, and Bobadilla marched with the troops and

was severely wounded at Mühlberg. In 1548, however, Charles published

his _Interim_, or provisional concession of certain Protestant claims

(such as the marriage of the clergy) until the Council of the Church

should decide the points at issue. It may be recalled that the general

Council of Trent was first intended as a common meeting of Protestant

and Catholic divines, and the hope of reconciliation was not yet

dead. Reconciliation, however, could mean only concession, and the

Jesuits were resolutely against concession. Whatever influence they

had in Germany, apart from their effort to reform the morality of the

Catholics, was reactionary and mischievous in the highest degree.

Bobadilla overflowed with wrath at the _Interim_, and denounced it

fiercely by pen and tongue. Charles angrily ordered him to leave the

Empire, and he returned to Rome; and it is recorded that Ignatius so

warmly resented his "indiscretion" that he refused at first to admit

him to the house. Thus did the saint vindicate the majesty of kings,

says M. Crétineau-Joly. The outbreak did unquestionably hamper the

progress of the Jesuits for a time, but before the death of Ignatius

they were firmly established in Vienna, Prague, Cologne, and a few

other cities. At Vienna the court demanded that Canisius should accept

the office of archbishop, and Ignatius compromised by allowing him to

administer the see and refuse its revenue. In the same year a Jesuit

was made "Patriarch of Abyssinia." It was just seven years since

Ignatius had induced the Pope to decree that no Jesuit should ever

accept an ecclesiastical dignity.

Of the foreign missions it is impossible to speak here at any length.

In 1540 Francis Xavier had come for his leader's blessing as he started

for the Indies. His cassock was worn and patched, and Ignatius took off

his own flannel vest and put it on the young priest before dismissing

him with the usual: "Go and set the world on fire." It was a different

Xavier from the one he had seen, a vain and brilliant teacher, at the

University of Paris, and it is well known how he did set the world on

fire. He was a handsome, blue-eyed man of thirty-six, and no Portuguese

sailor ever fronted the unknown with more courage and heroism than

Xavier displayed in his famous travels from India to Japan. After a

year's work at Goa, where his first need was to convert the Christians

and the Portuguese priests, he went on to Malabar, to the Moluccas,

to Malacca, and on to Japan, ending his life, in 1552, in an attempt

to reach China. What the result of his mission was it is difficult

to estimate soberly. The Jesuit chronicler forgets the confusion of

tongues, and makes Xavier leap from land to land, preaching to and

converting thousands everywhere, as if they all spoke Portuguese. In

Japan he clearly failed, although the Portuguese merchants were greatly

anxious for success, and the Japanese, of their own high character

and out of respect for the great king (of Portugal), his friend, were

extremely polite.

The other foreign missions of the early Jesuits were less irradiated

with miracle, or with heroism. Lainez went in the wake of the Spanish

troops to Tunis, said mass there, and left no trace behind. Nuñez,

the "Patriarch of Abyssinia," went out with two others to take over

his diocese, but found a "Patriarch" there already, who made a lively

opposition, and the Jesuits had to retire to Goa. Four Jesuits were

sent to the Congo. Two died at once, and the other two became so

interested in commerce that the king was alarmed. Ignatius recalled

and replaced them, but the king expelled the newcomers. In Brazil they

made more progress, penetrating the forests and winning the favour of

the natives by their medical and other material aid. They tried to save

the intended dinners of the cannibals, and, when they failed, sprinkled

the poor men with holy water; but the cannibals found that it made

them less succulent and forbade the practice. They did useful work in

Brazil, and laid the foundation of a great mission.

Such were the labours of the first Jesuits during the generalship

of Ignatius, and it remains only to close the career of their able

leader. The varied story of success and failure, the showers of glowing

testimonials and bitter diatribes, the heroism of some and the frailty

of others, kept him alternately elated or depressed to the end. He

must have seen that the first fervour could not be maintained, and

that opposition became more serious as the Society grew. It had now

nearly a thousand members scattered over the world, and a hundred

houses and colleges. The figures are misleading, however, as there

were only thirty-five professed fathers and only two professed houses;

many of the so-called colleges had no pupils and were little more than

names. Ignatius had twice attempted to resign his office in the last

few years; and there was much to distress him. He had hardly composed

the trouble in Portugal, in 1552, when Lainez gave him anxiety.

Lainez, who was made Provincial of Italy when Brouet was sent to Paris,

complained that the general was robbing his colleges of their best

teachers for the sake of Rome. Ignatius dictated to his secretary an

angry letter. "He bids me tell you," says the scribe, "to attend to

your own charge ... and you need not give him advice about this until

he asks it."

In the next year (1553) he had a grave quarrel with Cardinal Caraffa.

The Jesuits of Sicily had admitted a youth against his parents'

wishes, and Caraffa, to whom the mother appealed, ordered Ignatius to

give up the youth. He appealed to the Pope, and got Caraffa's verdict

cancelled. When, two years afterwards, Caraffa became Pope Paul IV.,

Ignatius remembered his momentary triumph with concern, and there

were grave faces in the Jesuit house. Paul III. had died in 1549. His

successor Julius III. had been, as the previous record shows, very

generous to the Jesuits, though funds had fallen very low in Rome,

owing to the Reformation, and Ignatius had great work to keep alive

the German college he had founded. Julius died in 1555, and it is said

by the Jesuit writers that five cardinals voted for Ignatius himself

at the next conclave. Marcellus, the next Pope, lived less than a

month, and then Caraffa occupied the see. To Caraffa the Spaniards were

"barbarians," and the Jesuits were Spaniards. But he postponed the

struggle which he was to have with the Society, and received Ignatius

courteously.

Work, austerity, and anxiety had at length seriously impaired the

strong frame of Ignatius, and he began to prepare for the end. It is

marvellous how he lived to see his sixty-fifth year, and continued

to control the mighty struggle of his Society against its various

enemies. With the opening of 1556, however, he retired to a great

extent from the labours of his office, and spent his days chiefly

in prayer. He died in the early morning of 31st July 1556, and the

struggle for the succession began.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 2: See Ribadeneira's _Historia Ecclesiastica del Scisma del

Reyno de Inglaterra_ (1588), L. ii. ch. xxii.]

A Candid History of the Jesuits · 第 2 / 16 章