THE JESUITS, AND THE PAPAL POWER IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
[Sidenote: The Roman Power in the Seventeenth Century.]
During the period we have just been considering, the most marked
peculiarity was, the struggle between Protestantism and Romanism. It
is true that objects of personal ambition also occupied the minds of
princes, and many great events occurred, which were not connected with
the struggles for religious liberty and light. But the great feature
of the age was the insurrection of human intelligence. There was a
spirit of innovation, which nothing could suppress, and this was
directed, in the main, to matters of religion. The conflict was not
between church and state, but between two great factions in each. "No
man asked whether another belonged to the same country as himself, but
whether he belonged to the same sect." Luther, Calvin, Zwingle, Knox,
Cranmer, and Bacon were the great pioneers in this march of
innovation. They wished to explode the ideas of the middle ages, in
philosophy and in religion. They made war upon the Roman Catholic
Church, as the great supporter and defender of old ideas. They
renounced her authority. She summoned her friends and vassals, rallied
all her forces, and, with desperate energy, resolved to put down the
spirit of reform. The struggles of the Protestants in England,
Germany, France, and the Netherlands, alike manifested the same
spirit, were produced by the same causes, and brought forth the same
results. The insurrection was not suppressed.
[Sidenote: Rise of the Jesuits.]
The hostile movements of Rome, for a while, were carried on by armies,
massacres, assassinations, and inquisitions. The duke of Alva's
cruelties in the Netherlands, St. Bartholomew's massacre in France,
inquisitorial tortures in Spain, and Smithfield burnings in England,
illustrate this assertion. But more subtle and artful agents were
required, especially since violence had failed. Men of simple lives,
of undoubted piety, of earnest zeal, and singular disinterestedness to
their cause, arose, and did what the sword and the stake could not
do,--revived Catholicism, and caused a reaction to Protestantism
itself. These men were Jesuits, the most faithful, intrepid, and
successful soldiers that ever enlisted under the banners of Rome. The
rise and fortunes of this order of monks form one of the most
important and interesting chapters in the history of the human race.
Their victories, and the spirit which achieved them, are well worth
our notice. In considering them, it must be borne in mind, that the
Jesuits have exhibited traits so dissimilar and contradictory, that it
is difficult to form a just judgment. While they were achieving their
victories, they appeared in a totally different light from what
distinguished them when they reposed on their laurels. In short, the
_earlier_ and the _latter_ Jesuits were entirely different in their
moral and social aspects, although they had the same external
organization. The principles of their system were always the same. The
men who defended them, at first, were marked by great virtues, but
afterwards were deformed by equally as great vices. It was in the
early days of Jesuitism that the events we have recorded took place.
Hence our notice, at present, will be confined to the Jesuits when
they were worthy of respect, and, in some things, even of admiration.
Their courage, fidelity, zeal, learning, and intrepidity for half a
century, have not been exaggerated.
The founder of the order was Ignatius Loyola, a Spanish gentleman of
noble birth, who first appeared as a soldier at the siege of
Pampeluna, where he was wounded, about the time that Luther was
writing his theses, and disputing about indulgences. He amused
himself, on his sick bed, by reading the lives of the saints. His
enthusiastic mind was affected, and he resolved to pass from worldly
to spiritual knighthood. He became a saint, after the notions of the
age; that is, he fasted, wore sackcloth, lived on roots and herbs,
practised austerities, retired to lonely places, and spent his time in
contemplation and prayer. The people were attracted by his sanctity,
and followed him in crowds. His heart burned to convert heretics; and,
to prepare himself for his mission, he went to the universities, and
devoted himself to study. There he made some distinguished converts,
all of whom afterwards became famous. In his narrow cell, at Paris, he
induced Francis Xavier, Faber, Laynez Bobadilla, and Rodriguez to
embrace his views, and to form themselves into an association, for the
conversion of the world. On the summit of Montmartre, these six young
men, on one star-lit night, took the usual monastic vows of _poverty_,
_chastity_, and _obedience_, and solemnly devoted themselves to their
new mission.
[Sidenote: Rapid Spread of the Jesuit Order.]
They then went to Rome, to induce the pope to constitute them a new
missionary order. But they were ridiculed as fanatics. Moreover, for
several centuries, there had been great opposition in Rome against the
institution of new monastic orders. It was thought that there were
orders enough; that the old should be reformed, not new ones created.
Even St. Dominic and St. Francis had great difficulty in getting their
orders instituted. But Loyola and his companions made extraordinary
offers. They professed their willingness to go wherever the pope
should send them, among Turks, heathens, or heretics, instantly,
without condition, or reward.
How could the pope refuse to license them? His empire was in danger;
Luther was in the midst of his victories; the power of ideas and truth
was shaking to its centre the pontifical throne; all the old orders
had become degenerate and inefficient, and the pope did not know where
to look for efficient support. The venerable Benedictines were
revelling in the wealth of their splendid abbeys, while the Dominicans
and the Franciscans had become itinerant vagabonds, peddling relics
and indulgences, and forgetful of those stern duties and virtues which
originally characterized them. All the monks were inexhaustible
subjects of sarcasm and mockery. They even made scholasticism
ridiculous, and the papal dogmas contemptible. Erasmus laughed at
them, and Luther mocked them. They were sensual, lazy, ignorant, and
corrupt. The pope did not want such soldiers. But the followers of
Loyola were full of ardor, talent, and zeal; willing to do any thing
for a sinking cause; able to do any thing, so far as human will can
avail. And they did not disappoint the pope. Great additions were
made. They increased with marvellous rapidity. The zealous, devout,
and energetic, throughout all ranks in the Catholic church, joined
them. They spread into all lands. They became the confessors of kings,
the teachers of youth, the most popular preachers, the most successful
missionaries. In sixteen years after the scene of Montmartre, Loyola
had established his society in the affections and confidence of
Catholic Europe, against the voice of universities, the fears of
monarchs, and the jealousy of the other monastic orders. In sixteen
years, from the condition of a ridiculed fanatic, whose voice,
however, would have been disregarded a century earlier or later, he
became one of the most powerful dignitaries of the church, influencing
the councils of the Vatican, moving the minds of kings, controlling
the souls of a numerous fraternity, and making his power felt, even in
the courts of Japan and China. Before he died, his spiritual sons had
planted their missionary stations amid Peruvian mines, amid the marts
of the African slave trade, in the islands of the Indian Ocean, and in
the cities of Japan and China. Nay, his followers had secured the most
important chairs in the universities of Europe, and had become
confessors to the most powerful monarchs, teachers in the best schools
of Christendom, and preachers in its principal pulpits. They had
become an organization, instinct with life, endued with energy and
will, and forming a body which could outwatch Argus with his hundred
eyes, and outwork Briareus with his hundred arms. It had forty
thousand eyes open upon every cabinet and private family in Europe,
and forty thousand arms extended over the necks of both sovereigns and
people. It had become a mighty power in the world, inseparably
connected with the education and the religion of the age, the prime
mover of all political affairs, the grand prop of absolute monarchies,
the last hope of the papal hierarchy.
[Sidenote: Rapid Spread of the Jesuits.]
The sudden growth and enormous resources of the "Society of Jesus"
impress us with feelings of amazement and awe. We almost attribute
them to the agency of mysterious powers, and forget the operations of
natural causes. The history of society shows that no body of men ever
obtained a wide-spread ascendency, except by the exercise of
remarkable qualities of mind and heart. And this is the reason why the
Jesuits prospered. When Catholic Europe saw young men, born to fortune
and honors, voluntarily surrendering their rank and goods, devoting
themselves to religious duties, spending their days in hospitals and
schools, wandering, as missionaries, into the most unknown and
dangerous parts of the world, exciting the young to study, making
great attainments in all departments of literature and science, and
shedding a light, wherever they went, by their genius and
disinterestedness, it was natural that they would be received as
preachers, teachers, and confessors. That they were characterized,
during the first fifty years, by such excellencies, has never been
denied. The Jesuit missionary called forth the praises of Baxter, and
the panegyric of Leibnitz. He went forth, without fear, to encounter
the most dreaded dangers. Martyrdom was nothing to him, for he knew
that the altar, which might stream with his blood, would, in after
times, be a cherished monument of his fame, and an impressive emblem
of the power of his religion. Francis Xavier, one of the first
converts of Loyola, a Spaniard of rank, traversed a tract of more than
twice the circumference of the globe, preaching, disputing, and
baptizing, until seventy thousand converts attested the fruits of his
mission. In perils, fastings, and fatigues, was the life of this
remarkable man passed, to convert the heathen world; and his labors
have never been equalled, as a missionary, except by the apostle Paul.
But China and Japan were not the only scenes of the enterprises of
Jesuit missionaries. As early as 1634, they penetrated into Canada,
and, shortly after to the sources of the Mississippi and the prairies
of Illinois. "My companion," said the fearless Marquette, "is an envoy
of France, to discover new countries; but I am an ambassador of God,
to enlighten them with the gospel." But of all the missions of the
Jesuits, those in Paraguay were the most successful. They there
gathered together, in _reductions_, or villages, three hundred
thousand Indians, and these were bound together by a common interest,
were controlled by a paternal authority, taught useful arts, and
trained to enjoy the blessings of civilization. On the distant banks
of the La Plata, while the Spanish colonists were hunting the Mexicans
and Peruvians with bloodhounds, or the English slave traders were
consigning to eternal bondage the unhappy Africans, the Jesuits were
realizing the ideal paradise of More--a Utopia, where no murders or
robberies were committed, and where the blessed flowers of peace and
harmony bloomed in a garden of almost primeval loveliness.
[Sidenote: Extraordinary Virtues of the Older Jesuits.]
In that age, the Jesuit excelled in any work to which he devoted his
attention. He was not only an intrepid missionary, but a most
successful teacher. Into the work of education he entered heart and
soul. He taught gratuitously, without any crabbed harshness, and with
a view to gain the heart. He entered into the feelings of his pupils,
and taught them to subdue their tempers, and avoid quarrels and oaths.
He excited them to enthusiasm, perceived their merits, and rewarded
the successful with presents and favors. Hence the schools of the
Jesuits were the best in Europe, and were highly praised even by the
Protestants. The Jesuits were even more popular as preachers than they
were as teachers; and they were equally prized as confessors. They
were so successful and so respected, that they soon obtained an
ascendency in Europe. Veneration secured wealth, and their
establishments gradually became magnificently endowed. But all their
influence was directed to one single end--to the building up of the
power of the popes, whose obedient servants they were. Can we wonder
that Catholicism should revive?
[Sidenote: The Constitution of the Jesuits.]
Again, their constitution was wonderful, and admirably adapted to the
ends they had in view. Their vows were indeed substantially the same
as those of other monks, but there was among them a more practical
spirit of obedience. All the members were controlled by a single
will--all were passive, instruments in the hands of the general of the
order. He appointed presidents of colleges and of religious houses;
admitted, dismissed, dispensed, and punished at his pleasure. His
power was irresponsible, and for life. From his will there was no
appeal. There were among them many gradations in rank, but each
gradation was a gradation in slavery. The Jesuit was bound to obey
even his own servant, if required by a superior. Obedience was the
soul of the institution, absolute, unconditional, and unreserved--even
the submission of the will, to the entire abnegation of self. The
Jesuit gloried in being made a puppet, a piece of machinery, like a
soldier, if the loss of his intellectual independence would advance
the interests of his order. The _esprit de corps_ was perfectly
wonderful, and this spirit was one secret of the disinterestedness of
the body. "_Ad majorem Dei gloriam,_" was the motto emblazoned on
their standards, and written on their hearts; but this glory of God
was synonymous with the ascendency of their association.
The unconditional obedience to a single will, which is the genius of
Jesuitism, while it signally advanced the interests of the body, and
of the pope, to whom they were devoted, still led to the most
detestable and resistless spiritual despotism ever exercised by man.
The Jesuit, especially when obscure and humble, was a tool, rather
than an intriguer. He was bound hand and foot by the orders of his
superiors, and they alone were responsible for his actions.
[Sidenote: Degeneracy of the Jesuits.]
We can easily see how the extraordinary virtues and attainments of the
early Jesuits, and the wonderful mechanism of their system, would
promote the growth of the order and the interests of Rome, before the
suspicions of good people would be aroused. It was a long time after
their piety had passed to fraud, their simplicity to cunning, their
poverty to wealth, their humility to pride, and their indifference to
the world to cabals, intrigues, and crimes, before the change was
felt. And, moreover, it was more than a century before the fruits of
the system were fully reaped. With all the excellences of their
schools and missions, dangerous notions and customs were taught in
them, which gradually destroyed their efficacy. A bad system often
works well for a while, but always carries the seeds of decay and
ruin. It was so with the institution of Loyola, in spite of the
enthusiasm and sincerity of the early members, and the masterly wisdom
displayed by the founders. In after times, evils were perceived, which
had, at first, escaped the eye. It was seen that the system of
education, though specious, and, in many respects, excellent, was
calculated to narrow the mind, while it filled it with knowledge.
Young men, in their colleges, were taught blindly to follow a rigid
mechanical code; they were closely watched; all books were taken from
them of a liberal tendency; mutilated editions of such as could not be
denied only were allowed; truths of great importance were concealed or
glossed over; exploded errors were revived, and studies recommended
which had no reference to the discussion of abstract questions on
government or religion. And the boys were made spies on each other,
their spirits were broken, and their tastes perverted. The Jesuits
sought to guard the avenues to thought, not to open them, were jealous
of all independence of mind, and never sought to go beyond their age,
or base any movement on ideal standards.
[Sidenote: Evils in the Jesuit System.]
Again, as preachers, though popular and eloquent, they devoted their
talents to convert men to the _Roman church_ rather than to _God_.
They were bigoted sectarians; strove to make men Catholics rather than
Christians. As missionaries, they were content with a mere nominal
conversion. They gave men the crucifix, but not the Bible, and even
permitted their converts to retain many of their ancient superstitions
and prejudices. And thus they usurped the authority of native rulers,
and sought to impose on China and Japan their despotic yoke. They
greatly enriched themselves in consequence of the credulity of the
natives, whom they flattered, and wielded an unlawful power. And this
is one reason why they were expelled, and why they made no permanent
conquests among the millions they converted in Japan. They wished not
only to subjugate the European, but the Asiatic mind. Europe did not
present a field sufficiently extensive for their cupidity and
ambition.
Finally, as confessors, they were peculiarly indulgent to those who
sought absolution, provided their submission was complete. Then it was
seen what an easy thing it was to bear the yoke of Christ. The
offender was told that sin consisted in wilfulness, and wilfulness in
the perfect knowledge of the nature of sin, according to which
doctrine blindness and passion were sufficient exculpations. They
invented the doctrine of mental reservation, on which Pascal was so
severe. Perjury was allowable, if the perjured were inwardly
determined not to swear. A man might fight a duel, if in danger of
being stigmatized as a coward; he might betray his friend, if he could
thus benefit his party. The Jesuits invented a system of casuistry
which confused all established ideas of moral obligation. They
tolerated, and some of them justified, crimes, if the same could be
made subservient to the apparent interests of the church. Their
principle was to do evil that good might come. Above all, they
conformed to the inclinations of the great, especially to those of
absolute princes, on whom they imposed no painful penance, or austere
devotion. Their sympathies always were with absolutism, in all its
forms and they were the chosen and trusted agents of the despots of
mankind, until even the eyes of Europe were open to their vast
ambition, which sought to erect an independent empire within the
limits of despotism itself. But the corruptions of the Jesuits, their
system of casuistry, their lax morality, their disgraceful intrigues,
their unprincipled rapacity, do not belong to the age we have now been
considering. These fruits of a bad system had not then been matured;
and the infancy of the society was as beautiful as its latter days
were disgraceful and fearful. In a future chapter, we shall glance at
the decline and fall of this celebrated institution--the best adapted
to its proposed ends of any system ever devised by the craft and
wisdom of man.
[Sidenote: The Popes in the Seventeenth Century.]
The great patrons of the Jesuits--the popes and their empire in the
sixteenth century, after the death of Luther--demand some notice. The
Catholic church, in this century, was remarkable for the reformation
it attempted within its own body, and for the zeal, and ability, and
virtue, which marked the character of many of the popes themselves.
Had it not been for this counter reformation, Protestantism would have
obtained a great ascendency in Europe. But the Protestants were
divided among themselves, while the Catholics were united, and
animated with singular zeal. They put forth their utmost energies to
reconquer what they had lost. They did not succeed in this, but they
secured the ascendency, on the whole, of the Catholic cause in Europe.
For this ascendency the popes are indebted to the Jesuits.
[Sidenote: Nepotism of the Popes.]
At the close of the sixteenth century, the popes possessed a
well-situated, rich, and beautiful province. All writers celebrated
its fertility. Scarcely a foot of land remained uncultivated. Corn was
exported, and the ports were filled with ships. The people were
courageous, and had great talents for business. The middle classes
were peaceful and contented, but the nobles, who held in their hands
the municipal authority, were turbulent, rapacious, and indifferent to
intellectual culture. The popes were generally virtuous characters,
and munificent patrons of genius. Gregory XIII. kept a list of men in
every country who were likely to acquit themselves as bishops, and
exhibited the greatest caution in appointing them. Sixtus V., whose
father was an humble gardener, encouraged agriculture and
manufactures, husbanded the resources of the state, and filled Rome
with statues. He raised the obelisk in front of St. Peter's, and
completed the dome of the Cathedral. Clement VIII. celebrated the mass
himself, and scrupulously devoted himself to religious duties. He was
careless of the pleasures which formerly characterized the popes, and
admitted every day twelve poor persons to dine with him. Paul V. had
equal talents and greater authority, but was bigoted and cold.
Gregory XIV. had all the severity of an ancient monk. The only
religious peculiarity of the popes, at the latter end of the sixteenth
century, which we unhesitatingly condemn, was, their religious
intolerance. But they saw that their empire would pass away, unless
they used vigorous and desperate measures to retain it. During this
period, the great victories of the Jesuits, the establishment of their
colleges, and the splendid endowments of their churches took place.
Gregory XV. built, at his own cost, the celebrated church of St.
Ignatius, at Rome, and instituted the Propaganda, a missionary
institution, under the control of the Jesuits.
[Sidenote: Rome in the Seventeenth Century.]
The popes, whether good or bad, did not relinquish their nepotism in
this century, in consequence of which great families arose with every
pope, and supplanted the old aristocracy. The Barberini family, in one
pontificate, amassed one hundred and five millions of scudi--as great
a fortune as that left by Mazarin. But they, enriched under
Urban VII., had to flee from Rome under Innocent X. Jealousy and
contention divided and distracted all the noble families, who vied
with each other in titles and pomp, ceremony and pride. The ladies of
the Savelli family never quitted their palace walls, except in closely
veiled carriages. The Visconti decorated their walls with the
portraits of the popes of their line. The Gaetana dwelt with pride on
the memory of Boniface VIII. The Colonna and Orsini boasted that for
centuries no peace had been concluded in Christendom, in which they
had not been expressly included. But these old families had become
gradually impoverished, and yielded, in wealth and power, though not
in pride and dignity, to the Cesarini, Borghesi, Aldobrandini,
Ludovisi, Giustiniani, Chigi, and the Barberini. All these families,
from which popes had sprung, had splendid palaces, villas, pictures,
libraries, and statues; and they contributed to make Rome the centre
of attraction for the elegant and the literary throughout Europe. It
was still the moral and social centre of Christendom. It was a place
to which all strangers resorted, and from which all intrigues sprung.
It was the scene of pleasure, gayety, and grandeur. And the splendid
fabric, which was erected in the "ages of faith," in spite of all the
calamities and ravages of time, remained still beautiful and
attractive. Since the first secession, in the sixteenth century, Rome
has lost none of her adherents, and those, who remained faithful, have
become the more enthusiastic in their idolatry.
* * * * *
REFERENCES.--Ranke's History of the Popes. Father Bouhour's
Life of Ignatius Loyola. A Life of Xavier, by the same
author. Stephens's Essay on Loyola. Charlevoix's History of
Paraguay. Pascal's Provincial Letters. Macaulay's Review of
Ranke's History of the Popes. Bancroft's chapter, in the
History of the United States, on the colonization of Canada.
"Secreta Monita." Histoire des Jésuites. "Spiritual
Exercises." Dr. Williams's Essay. History of Jesuit
Missions. The works on the Jesuits are very numerous; but
those which are most accessible are of a violent partisan
character. Eugene Sue, in his "Wandering Jew," has given
false, but strong, impressions. Infidel writers have
generally been the most bitter, with the exception of
English and Scotch authors, in the seventeenth century. The
great work of Ranke is the most impartial with which the
author is acquainted. Ranke's histories should never be
neglected, of which admirable translations have been made.