FOOTNOTES:[1]Washington's Eighth and Madison's Second Message.[2]Protestantism and Catholicity Compared in their Effects on the Civilization of Europe, By the Rev. I. Balmes.[3]Universal Church History. By Alzog. Vol. I, p. 674. This recognized papal authority, in order to be as nearly exact as possible, fixes it in the year 510.
FOOTNOTES:
[1]Washington's Eighth and Madison's Second Message.
[1]Washington's Eighth and Madison's Second Message.
[2]Protestantism and Catholicity Compared in their Effects on the Civilization of Europe, By the Rev. I. Balmes.
[2]Protestantism and Catholicity Compared in their Effects on the Civilization of Europe, By the Rev. I. Balmes.
[3]Universal Church History. By Alzog. Vol. I, p. 674. This recognized papal authority, in order to be as nearly exact as possible, fixes it in the year 510.
[3]Universal Church History. By Alzog. Vol. I, p. 674. This recognized papal authority, in order to be as nearly exact as possible, fixes it in the year 510.
CHAPTER II.
IGNATIUS LOYOLA, FOUNDER OF THE ORDER.
Itis of little consequence to the general reader what place in history is assigned to Ignatius Loyola, apart from the fact that he was the founder and originator of the society of Jesuits, and lived long enough to stamp upon it the impress of his own personality. He availed himself of that organization to maintain among its members the vain and impious assumption of his equality with God, and in that way obtained such complete mastery over them that, in explanation and justification of their slavish obedience, they represent him as having possessed miraculous powers. They assign to him the performance of more miracles than Christ, and do not hesitate to record that he not only restored the dead to life, but, in one conspicuous case, gave life to a child born dead! The silly stories of this character, told of him in apparent seriousness, can have no other effect than to impose upon and encourage ignorant and superstitious people, and are undoubtedly repeated by his Jesuit biographers for this purpose. They seem never to have realized that the world has grown wiser, and that the period has passed when fictions and myths can be proclaimed as realities.
The life of Loyola was written, soon after his death, by Rabadenira, one of his Jesuit followers, who had known him intimately. Of course, under such circumstances, his statement of personal characteristics was presumably reliable. What he stated in the first edition was professedly based upon his own knowledge and what he had learned from Loyola's "intimate friends" and "inseparable companions." And with these facts before him and fully considered, he declared that his "sanctity was not justified by miracles." Some years after, however, it was deemed expedient that this concession should be withdrawn entirely, and anothermore favorable to the Jesuits be substituted for it. Accordingly, in another edition of the same work, it is stated that Loyola's performance of miracles was "confirmed by the most authentic proofs and careful examination."[4]These statements are in direct conflict, and can not both be true. The first bears the impress of veracity because it is consistent with human experience, while the latter shows the tracings of Jesuit fingers too clearly to mislead any thoughtful and intelligent mind.
It is singularly strange that, in the present reading and enlightened age, these pretended miracles are cited by Jesuits to prove that divine power and authority were conferred upon Loyola, because God chose him to accomplish special objects in his name; when the very things which, as they allege, he was providentially appointed to defeat, have transpired in spite of him, his successors, and all their followers. The suppression of the Reformation and the extirpation of Protestantism—its legitimate fruit—were the avowed purposes of himself and his society, because, according to them, the curse of God rested upon these as the excess of unpardonable heresy. For the accomplishments of these objects he converted the members of his society into a compact body of militia, and placed in their hands weapons chosen by himself, instructing them that they were specially selected as the executioners of the Divine vengeance. Yet the Reformation progressed until it marked out new paths of advancement for the nations; and Protestantism has extended its beneficent influences until it is to-day the controlling power in human affairs, and has even taken possession of places where the papacy once ruled with sovereign and unchallenged authority. And the great work thus begun, in the face of Jesuit maledictions and curses, has not yet ended; for Protestantism still continues to build up new nations, elevate and improve peoples, and make mankind freer, happier,and more prosperous; whilst there has not been a time since the Jesuits existed as a society when they have not been odious in all parts of the world, and have not been regarded as the plotters of mischief and disturbers of the public peace. How can a thoughtful mind account for these results by any known process of human reasoning, if it were true that Loyola had divine power conferred upon him expressly for the purpose of exterminating Protestantism as heresy? And how, if his society of Jesuits has been providentially endowed with faculties to consummate his ends, could it have happened that one of the wisest and best of the popes—for whom infallibility is now claimed—was constrained to condemn it by positive suppression, and to declare, under the solemn responsibilities of his sacred office, that it was not worthy of longer existence? But leaving these questions unanswered for the present, it is sufficient to say here that no qualities possessed by Loyola, whatsoever they were, can oblige the present age to recognize his society as entitled to any such prerogatives and immunities as exempt it from having its real worth tested by the rules universally accepted as applicable to human conduct and affairs. It must now be tried by these rules; and if it shall be found that its conduct has been marked by wrong and injustice, its boastful claim of superiority will appear to every investigator as merely vain and presumptuous.
That Loyola was shrewd and sagacious, and laid his plans with a full and intelligent comprehension of the ends he had in view, ought not to be denied. When engaged in framing the constitution of the Jesuits, he was familiar with the troubles existing in the Church, and with the prevailing public sentiment with reference to their causes; that is, the unfitness for the proper discharge of spiritual functions of those charged with their exercise. The Jesuits themselves assert this, in explanation of the necessity for the establishment of theirs as a new society, declaring that the numerous orders then existing—such as the Benedictines, Dominicans, Franciscans, Minorites, and others—were incompetent to arrest thedecline of the Church, on account of their own need of reform. This point in their history should invite the closest attention and scrutiny, because it shows, in a conspicuous degree, the basis of their assumed superiority over all other societies and orders which, in the course of time, have had the sanction of the Church. And this scrutiny is desirable, moreover, inasmuch as it will be seen that the pictures of demoralization prevailing among the clergy, as they were drawn by the reformers in their most vivid coloring, had their accuracy vouched for by Loyola himself, to justify the establishment of his society of Jesuits, not merely because it would constitute a distinct, independent, and superior organization, but would bring back all dissenters to obedience, which he made its main and fundamental principle.
One of the leading Jesuit authorities—an author upon whom the society relies to make known that part of its history considered favorable—endeavors to maintain the proposition that it was absolutely obligatory for Loyola to have been intrusted with the duty "of reforming the morals of the people of Rome," immediately within the shadow of the Vatican. He represents the task as "most difficult and important, as at that time the people were much demoralized, and indulged in the most frightful excesses," notwithstanding the papal Government, with plenary and absolute powers, had existed there during all the period of the Middle Ages—nearly a thousand years. Not content alone with asserting that the people were demoralized, this same author affirms, in addition, that Loyola "sought to reform the monastic orders, and reanimate the priesthood with a holy fervor,"[5]thus alleging that the monastic orders and the priesthood were demoralized like the people, and needed that a new guardian of their morals, other and better than any the Church had ever furnished, should be empowered to regulate their conduct. In further explanation of the reasons why Loyoladesired to establish the society of Jesuits, he represents him as having addressed directly to the pope, Paul III, this argument: "It appears that this society is absolutely necessary for the eradication of those abuses with which the Church is afflicted."[6]And at another place, referring to the condition of the Church in Germany, he says it was "mainly attributable to the ignorance of the people, and, more dangerous still, to the shortcomings of the priesthood, abandoned to the gratification of their own passions. In the entire city of Worms there was but one priest worthy of respect."[7]Neither Luther nor the reformers could have employed apter words to justify themselves; nor can those of the present time, who comment upon the vices which then prevailed among the clergy, express themselves in stronger language. The well-established historical fact is, that the same condition of things existed throughout the leading nations of Europe, beginning at Rome and reaching out in every direction, having the papacy as its common center. When the Jesuits, therefore, bestow their curses upon Luther and other reformers for having proclaimed the necessity for reform in the Church because of the demoralization of the clergy, they show their memories to be short in forgetting that their society was justified by its founder upon the plea of the same necessity.
Loyola was fully advised, also, of the progress made by the Reformation, and doubtless persuaded himself to believe that the necessity for reform would be made available by others of less ambition than himself, who would be likely to seek for it elsewhere than through the papacy, under whose auspices so many evils had grown up, unless he could check the progress of the Reformation by the creation of some new and opposing influences which he could himself control. There were no fundamental points of Christian doctrine involved; and, if there had been, the whole life of Loyola proves that he would have regarded them of inferior importance, compared with his main purpose of preventing the enlightenment of society by free religious thought, and holding it in obedience to authority superior to itself. The friendly author already quoted declares his object to have been "to re-establish those principles of submission and discipline which alone can insure obedience to legitimate authority;"[8]that is, to the combined authority of Church and State, as no other was at that time considered legitimate by him, or has ever been by his society since then.
The acute and penetrating intellect of Loyola enabled him to foresee that, unless some new method of counteracting the effects of the Reformation should be discovered, the disintegration of the Church, already begun, could not be arrested. The difficulties surrounding this problem were increased by the fact that the papacy had been unable to put a stop to its own decline; and accordingly he taxed his inventive faculties, not to reform doctrine—for that was not needed beyond the points interpolated upon the primitive faith by the ambitious popes—but to prevent the decay of papal and ecclesiastical power. Undoubtedly it was his purpose that whatsoever plan he might adopt should supersede the old methods to which the Church had been long accustomed, and which had the sanction of numerous popes and many centuries of time. He intended to enter upon an experiment, the chief recommendation of which was, that it required new paths to be marked out in preference to those which had acquired the approval of antiquity. But he was careful to see, at every step he took, that whatsoever was done should inure to his own credit in the accomplishment of such ends as were suggested by the burning ardor and ambition of a soldier; in other words, that if good results ensued, they should be attributed to himself, and neither to the pope, nor to the Church, nor to the ancient monastic orders. Assuming, as he manifestly did, that all these combined had failed to check the advancing corruptions of theclergy, which had grown up under their protracted auspices, his inventive and ambitious mind was animated by the hope of bringing the world to realize that he alone could give to the organized authority of Church and State the vigor and efficiency necessary to keep society in obedience. Having a mind thoroughly indoctrinated with the principle of absolute monarchism, he did not regard it as possible or desirable to accomplish this in any other mode than by making that the central and controlling feature of whatsoever plan should be adopted. Accordingly, in the constitution of the society of Jesuits, which was the product of his reflections, he provided for consolidating in his own hands, as superior or general, such absolute authority as would subject all its members to his individual will, so as to hold them, at all times and under all possible circumstances, in perfect and uninquiring obedience, surrendering their right to think as completely as if they had never possessed it. By this method he designed to annihilate all personal independence, so that freedom of thought should not, by any possibility, exist in the society. He meant to convert all who were brought within the circle of his influence, from thoughtful and reflecting men into mere human automatons, and so to mold and fashion them that each one should be reduced to a universal and common level of humiliating submission and obedience. Thus he hoped to arrest the further development of popular intelligence, so that those who had been lifted out of the old grooves of despotism might be plunged into them again, and such as had not should be held there in ignorance and superstition. This he supposed would defeat the Reformation, in which event he and his society, as the originator and executors of the plan, would enjoy the glory of the achievement. If he had ever exhibited any evidences of great sanctity of life, this presumption of selfish ambition might have been rebutted; but he was known only as an aspiring soldier, whose early life had been characterized by such follies and irregularities as prevailed about the courts of royalty at thattime. He had done nothing to raise him above the character of an adventurer.
There was nothing in the original Jesuit constitution necessary to Christian faith or to the established doctrines of the Roman Church. It provided for the organization of a select body of men, united together professedly to maintain what Loyola chose to call the greater glory of God—"ad majorem Dei gloriam"—by such undefined methods as might be, from time to time, made known to them by their general, and without fixing any limitation or restraint upon either his discretion or authority. There was no pretense of adding to or taking from the settled doctrines or dogmas of the Church; for that could have been done only by the pope, or by a General Council, or by the two powers acting conjointly—in unity. It would have been a direct censure of the Church to have assumed the necessity of this, or to have solicited authority to undertake it—equivalent to saying that it had failed to provide the necessary means of maintaining the true faith after many centuries of unlimited power. It was the duty of Loyola, as a faithful son of the Church, no less than it was the duty of those who were less pretentious, to have regarded its faith and doctrines as already perfect. To have done otherwise would have given aid and comfort to Luther and the Reformation. Hence his pretense of the necessity for the organization of a new society or order, with special methods of its own hitherto unknown, clearly indicated a desire to act apart from and independently of the existing methods and authorities of the Church.
No matter, however, what pretenses were made by Loyola, or what his secretly cherished designs were, there is not the least ground for doubt that his method of establishing and organizing a new society had no relations whatsoever to the principles of Christian faith—in other words, that the existing methods were competent for all practicable and necessary purposes without it. It was, consequently, temporalmerely; that is, it had reference exclusively to the management of men, so as to reduce them to uninquiring obedience to such authority as was set over them. There was nothing besides this which the Church and the ancient monastic orders did not already possess the power to accomplish. The "exercises" he prescribed were, it is true, spiritual in character—such as penance and mortification of the flesh—but the Church had already provided these, and they were rigidly observed by the monastic orders. The pledge to employ them, made by the members of the Jesuit society so as to promote their own spiritual welfare, was merely incidental to the duty they already owed to the Church. Consequently, while these "exercises" conformed to the existing obligations imposed by the Church, the new society projected by Loyola was intended to furnish the machinery necessary for exacting obedience—for training and disciplining all who could be influenced by it for that single purpose. And in order to accomplish effectually this obedience to himself and his new society, leaving out entirely both the Church and the pope, he originally designed that the members of the society should be responsible alone to their general, from whom all the laws and regulations for their government should emanate. The pope, as the head of the Church, had not the least authority over these members conferred upon him by the original constitution; nor was it intended that they should obey any other authority than that of their general, because he, and he alone, was recognized as the sole representative of God upon earth. There was nothing spiritual in all this, in the sense in which the Church had defined spiritual things and the Christian world understood them; but it made the society, as Loyola planned it, temporal merely—a mere police corps, drilled and disciplined to obedience alone, without the right either to inquire or decide whether the commands of their superior were right or wrong. It should surprise no intelligent man, therefore, at learning the fact that the pope hesitated about giving the society his approval, when Loyola first requested his pontifical ratification of its constitution.
That Loyola's original intention was that his new society should exact from its members a pledge of fidelity alone to himself and those who should succeed him in its government, and not to the Church or to the pope, is plainly to be seen in the fact that when he found a few sympathizing friends to unite with him, he did not submit the plan of organization to the pope for approval, so as to make it a religious order like the Dominican, Franciscan, and other ancient orders, but sought only from him permission for himself and friends to go as missionaries to the Holy Land, to labor for the conversion of the infidel Turks to Christianity. That he then contemplated acting, in so far as the movements and operations of his society were concerned, independently of the Church and the pope, is evidenced by the most undoubted authority. The author of the "Lives of the Saints," a work which has the highest indorsement, says: "In 1534, on the Feast of the Assumption of our Lady, St. Ignatius and his six companions, of whom Francis [Xavier] was one, made a vow at Montmartre to visit the Holy Land, and unite their labors for the conversion of the infidels; or, if this should be found not practicable, to cast themselves at the feet of the pope, and offer their services wherever he thought fit to employ them."[9]
It will be seen, therefore, that it was entirely conditional whether or no Loyola would make known to the pope his new society and the plan of its organization, and ask his pontifical approval. He had already formed the primary organization, and obtained from Xavier and his five other associates the necessary vow of obedience, by which they had placed themselves entirely under his dominion and control. If it should prove "practicable" for him to plant his new and independent society in the Holy Land, which presented a large and tempting field of operations, it was undoubtedly his secretly-cherished purpose to do so, without making his constitution known to the pope, and thus toestablish in Asia an organization independent of the pope, and submissive only to himself. But if found to be "not practicable," then, and only then, he and his companions would "cast themselves at the feet of the pope, and offer their services" to him and to the Church. His military ambition, not yet extinguished, was manifestly kindled afresh by the hope that a whole continent would be opened before him, where he would find the Oriental methods of obedience strictly consistent with those he desired to introduce, and where he could create, unmolested, such influences as, being introduced into Europe, might counteract those already produced by the Reformation. But not until he found that he was balked in this, did he intend to devote himself and his companions to the immediate work of attempting to arrest the progress of the Reformation in Europe, where the existing methods of resisting it were not under his control. It was worthy of the founder of the Jesuits to solicit the pope's approval of this great missionary scheme, and to conceal from him, at the same time, his secret purpose to act in the name of a new society, adverse to the ancient monastic orders and submissive to himself alone. That this concealment was studied and premeditated, there can be no reasonable doubt; and as it was the first step taken by Loyola in the execution of his plan, he thereby practiced such duplicity and deceit toward the Church and the pope, that these qualities may well be considered as fundamental in the society of Jesuits. And there is ample proof in the strange and eventful history of this society that it has been, from that time till the present, consistently faithful to this example of its founder.
His first successes were, doubtless, flattering to the pride, as well as encouraging to the hopes, of Loyola. Having succeeded in obtaining the consent of the pope that he and his companions should become missionaries to the Holy Land, without having revealed the existence or character of his society, they were all ordained as priests for that purpose, as none of them had been previously admitted to the priesthood. Thus equipped, they took their departure for Palestine, with the plan and principles of their organization locked up in their own minds, and the ultimate design of their ambitious leader known, probably, to himself alone. They must have commenced their journey with joyful hearts and rapturous hopes, which soon, however, became chilled by what Loyola must have considered a sad misfortune, probably the first he had encountered since he had received the wound at the battle of Pampeluna, which disfigured his person so that he could share no longer in the gay festivities of the royal court. They were prevented from reaching Palestine by the war then in progress between the Emperor Charles V and the Turks, and, after an absence of about a year, were compelled to return to Europe disheartened, as may well be supposed, by their failure. This put a new aspect upon the fortunes of Loyola. His first advance towards independence and the acquisition of power had accomplished nothing favorable to his ambition, and, consequently, it became necessary for him to discover some more promising field of operations, where no such mishap as he had encountered would be likely to occur again. There was abundant room in Europe for missionary labor; but he was now, for the first time, confronted by the fact that his society could not engage in this work, in the presence of numerous religious orders already in existence, without obtaining for it the express approval of the pope, so that, by this means, it might be also stamped with a religious character, in so far as that approval would confer it. He, manifestly, had not calculated upon a crisis which would make it necessary to submit the provisions of his constitution to the pope, or to make them known to any others besides those who were to become members of his society, and were willing to yield up their manhood so completely as to vow uninquiring obedience and submission to him and his successors as the only representatives and vicegerents of God upon earth. It can not be supposed that a man of so much sagacity as he undoubtedly possessed, would not have foreseen the difficultyin obtaining the approval of the pope to a constitution which humiliated him by assigning higher authority to the general of a new society than the Church had confided to him. But he had gone too far to retreat, and had too much courage to attempt it; for his courage was never doubted, either upon the battle-field or elsewhere; and when he found it absolutely necessary to visit Rome in order to obtain the pope's sanction, he did so, accompanied by Lefevre and Laynez, two of his companions. Before their departure, however, from Vicenza in Austrian Italy, where they were assembled, Loyola deemed it important to announce to his followers, probably for the first time, the name he had decided to give his society. He thus instructed them: "To those who ask what we are, we will reply, we are the Soldiers of the Holy Church, and we form 'The Society of Jesus.'"[10]This was evidently suggested by the necessities which then confronted him. He had not found it expedient to adopt such a designation, or to announce that they were "Soldiers of the Holy Church," until their attempt to obtain an independent position in Palestine had failed. Therefore, these avowals, made before going to Rome, are justly to be considered as mere expedients, suggested by the necessity of obtaining the pope's approval. The existing religious orders had taken their names from their founders; but Loyola's profane use of the sacred name of the Son of God, clearly indicated that he intended to set up for his society a claim for holiness superior to all others. Or it was assumed as a cover for practices, contemplated by him, that would not bear inspection in the light. That it was intended as a reflection upon the ancient monastic orders then existing, and to express superiority over them, can not be doubted. In any view, to say the least, it was impudent and presumptuous, and was generally offensive to the Christian world.
At the time of Loyola's visit to Rome, Paul III was pope. When his approval of the new society was solicited,he deemed it indispensable, as a measure of precaution, that the question should be investigated with the greatest care; for until then no opportunity had been afforded him of knowing the ultimate purposes of Loyola, or the machinery he had constructed for executing them. Whether the pope suspected him of concealment or not, it is impossible now to tell; but that he had reason to do so is evident from the most favorable accounts given of the original official interview between them. Then it was that the pope was apprised, for the first time, that the constitution under which the society of Jesuits had been organized, required a solemn vow, by which all the members were pledged to "implicit and unquestioning obedience to their superior,"[11]without the possibility of equivocation or mental reservation; that is, to Loyola himself as the first general, and to his successors from time to time thereafter. It required but little deliberation upon the part of the pope to realize that neither the Church nor the papacy could derive any advantage from this, but rather injury; for the reason that it would create a society under the protection of both, and, at the same time, absolutely independent of both. He therefore hesitated, evidently supposing that his approval under those circumstances would drag him into deep waters from which it would not be easy to escape, and referred the question to a committee of cardinals for thorough and scrutinizing investigation, so that his final action should be based upon full information.
Loyola was too sagacious not to have anticipated this difficulty; but he manifestly hoped to escape it in some way, either by evading or bridging it over, or he would not have asked the pope to approve the original constitution which contained it. He certainly did not desire or contemplate any change in his original constitution or plan; and therefore, when Paul III hesitated and appointed a committee of cardinals to scrutinize them, he must have felt a degree of perplexity to which his proud and ambitious military spirithad not been hitherto accustomed to submit unresistingly. He could not avoid seeing, however, that if the pope's final decision should be adverse to him, it would necessarily be the death of his society, upon which he had, with inordinate ambition, fixed his hopes. The occasion constituted the most serious crisis in his personal fortunes he had ever encountered. Success promised him a long list of triumphs; defeat, nothing but obscurity. He had no such intellectual resources as fitted him for rencounter with those who had, not having attended school until after he had reached the years of manhood, and not having then shown any special aptness for learning. Whatsoever capacity he possessed, tended in the direction of governing men, his faculty for which was developed during his service in the army; and he must therefore have experienced the consciousness that if he failed to obtain the sanction of the pope, his career would be seriously, if not entirely, checked. The future of the papacy depended upon the successful training of men to obedience; and Loyola, understanding this, could have had no difficulty in persuading the pope that a society like his, contrived especially to suspend the power of human reasoning and reduce its members to mere unthinking machines, would more assuredly produce that result than had been done by the very worst forms of absolute despotism which had, for so many centuries, held the Oriental world in subjugation.
But Loyola's embarrassment did not amount to discomfiture. He may never have held personal intercourse with Paul III before; but he understood the papacy, its wants and necessities, and had ample opportunity to study the character and penetrate the motives of the pope. For this he was specially fitted—few men have lived who excelled him in this respect—and, having constructed his society upon the theory that men were of no value unless persuaded to surrender up their personality to superiors, the occasion served him to address such arguments to the pope as would convince him that the obedience to authority he had introduced in his society was just what the existing exigencies of thepapacy required to save it from overthrow. It may easily be seen now—although the pope may not have then employed penetration enough to discover it—that he did not intend to deal unequivocally and in entire frankness with the pope, so long as there remained a prospect of obtaining his end otherwise. He evidently had an accurate conception of what is meant by the terms confession and avoidance, in the sense of seeming to consent while not consenting. Thus, in order to remove the objection of the pope and secure his approval, he suggested another and new obligation to be inserted in the constitution of his society, providing that the members should also take a vow "of obedience to the Holy See and to the popepro tempore, with the express obligation of going, without remuneration, to whatsoever part of the world it shall please the pope to send them."[12]These words must be read critically in order that their meaning as intended by Loyola, and always since interpreted by the Jesuits, may not be misconceived. Their true import is, that whilst the members of the society were to pay obedience to the pope as well as to their general, it was qualified as to the former, and absolute as to the latter; that is, that as they were nominally to have two heads, the authority of both should, for all practical purposes, center in one. In point of fact, as amply demonstrated by subsequent experience, this new provision did not change the nature or limit the extent of the obligation of unquestioning obedience to the Jesuit general. Its most essential feature was that which required the members to go wheresoever ordered by the pope, without compensation; but with regard to this and all other duties, and the manner of discharging them, they were required to obey their general. They could receive no instructions except those which came from him, all of which they were required to obey as coming directly from God. This amendment created no special relations—or, indeed, any whatsoever—between the pope and thesociety; for he held no direct intercourse with it. And it only created such relations between the pope and the general as obliged the latter to send the members wheresoever the former desired, without remuneration. They remained the slaves of the general, and not the slaves of the pope. They obeyed the general, and not the pope, unless ordered to do so by the general, in which case they paid obedience only to the latter. But Paul III did not detect the well-concealed purposes of Loyola, and may not even have suspected them, in view of his anxiety to arrest the disintegration of the Church and the threatened decay of the papacy. Howsoever this may have been, the cunningly-contrived concession made to him by Loyola was satisfactory to him, notwithstanding the opposition of one of the committee of cardinals, and he issued his pontifical bull approving the society of Jesuits as a religious order. This pledge of fidelity to the pope, however, has been kept or evaded accordingly as the interests of the society have from time to time demanded. Its history shows prominent instances when the decisions of the popes have been denounced and resisted, and when the popes themselves have been treated with contempt and defiance. When the Jesuits have found shelter and protection under the authority of the popes, they have exalted them to absolute equality with God; when otherwise, they have disobeyed and traduced them.
FOOTNOTES:[4]Crit. and Phi. Dictionary. By Bayle. Article "Loyola," Vol. III, p. 889, note.[5]History of the Society of Jesus. By Daurignac. Vol. I, p. 14. This work was translated by Clements, and published in Cincinnati by Walsh, in 1865.[6]History of the Society of Jesus. By Daurignac. Vol I, p. 22.[7]Ibid., p. 40.[8]History of the Society of Jesus. By Daurignac. Vol. I, p. 40.[9]Lives of the Saints. By the Rev. Alban Butler. Vol. XII, article "St. Francis Xavier," December 3, p. 603.[10]Daurignac. Vol. I, pp. 11-12.[11]History of the Jesuits. By Nicolini. Page 27.[12]History of the Jesuits. By Nicolini. Page 27.
FOOTNOTES:
[4]Crit. and Phi. Dictionary. By Bayle. Article "Loyola," Vol. III, p. 889, note.
[4]Crit. and Phi. Dictionary. By Bayle. Article "Loyola," Vol. III, p. 889, note.
[5]History of the Society of Jesus. By Daurignac. Vol. I, p. 14. This work was translated by Clements, and published in Cincinnati by Walsh, in 1865.
[5]History of the Society of Jesus. By Daurignac. Vol. I, p. 14. This work was translated by Clements, and published in Cincinnati by Walsh, in 1865.
[6]History of the Society of Jesus. By Daurignac. Vol I, p. 22.
[6]History of the Society of Jesus. By Daurignac. Vol I, p. 22.
[7]Ibid., p. 40.
[7]Ibid., p. 40.
[8]History of the Society of Jesus. By Daurignac. Vol. I, p. 40.
[8]History of the Society of Jesus. By Daurignac. Vol. I, p. 40.
[9]Lives of the Saints. By the Rev. Alban Butler. Vol. XII, article "St. Francis Xavier," December 3, p. 603.
[9]Lives of the Saints. By the Rev. Alban Butler. Vol. XII, article "St. Francis Xavier," December 3, p. 603.
[10]Daurignac. Vol. I, pp. 11-12.
[10]Daurignac. Vol. I, pp. 11-12.
[11]History of the Jesuits. By Nicolini. Page 27.
[11]History of the Jesuits. By Nicolini. Page 27.
[12]History of the Jesuits. By Nicolini. Page 27.
[12]History of the Jesuits. By Nicolini. Page 27.
CHAPTER III.
THE CONSTITUTION OF THE SOCIETY.
Allthe circumstances which attended the origin and establishment of the society of Jesuits combine to explain, with unmistakable clearness, the motives which must have influenced the mind and incited the action of Loyola in every step he took. They plainly show that his leading and controlling purpose was to organize a body of men, each one of whom should be brought into implicit and unquestioning obedience to the authority of their general, and hold themselves in readiness so long as the society existed, to do, without the least inquiry into results, whatsoever he should command to be done, so that they should have no wills or opinions of their own upon any subject over which he should assert jurisdiction. By making this the central and most fundamental principle of the constitution, he placed his society in direct antagonism to all intellectual progress and enlightenment—to everything that tended to dignify and elevate mankind. No one, therefore, ought to wonder that it has produced more disturbance in the world than any other organization that has ever existed; or, if it were out of the way, could ever exist again.
The constitution was locked up in the secret archives of the society for more than two hundred years, many of its details having been unknown, it is said, even by a considerable portion of the members, whose submissive obedience must have reduced them to the condition of trained animals. This concealment by a society professedly religious could not have been favorable to Christianity, and must have been the consequence of some sinister motive, as subsequent developments have shown. This is a fair inference from the reluctance with which the constitution was surrendered when the French Government demanded its exposure. Thefacts connected with the proceedings of the French Parliament, when they compelled the society to make it known, justify the belief that there must have been some special reason for its long concealment, and that the public odium, so long resting upon it in France, was attributable, among other things, to the secrecy of its proceedings. And when it is considered that the strong and vigorous measures adopted by the Parliament to extort the constitution by dragging it from its hiding-place, transpired at a time when Protestantism had no control whatsoever over the public affairs of France, it conclusively proves that the integrity of the society was suspected by the French people whilst they were faithful adherents of the Roman Church. Such a fact as this indicates—what every Jesuit stands ready to deny if necessary—that where the society was best known, it was most suspected and disliked.
The whole machinery of this society was admirably designed to accomplish its complete consolidation. Although Loyola was neither a theologian nor a learned man, having obtained almost his entire education after he was thirty years of age, yet he understood, far better than many who had acquired higher intellectual culture, the springs and motives of human conduct; and this, supplemented by cunning, which never deserted him, constituted his leading characteristic. As his sole object was to dominate over others by promising them a place in paradise as a reward for unmanning themselves, he studiously excluded all who could not be reduced to this low condition by training, discipline, and education. Accordingly, before an applicant could be admitted to probation, his whole life and character were closely scrutinized by the general, if it were in his power to do so; but if not, by persons selected as spies, who were "to live with him and examine him," so as to be able to penetrate his most secret thoughts.[13]Upon admission, he was required to confess to a rector, who was to be recognized by him as holding "theplace of Christ our Lord," and from whom nothing should be concealed—"not opposing, not contradicting, nor showing an opinion in any case opposed to his opinion."[14]When the probationer was found by these tests qualified for membership—that is, when it was ascertained that he had no will of his own, but was fitted by nature and inclination for a state of complete bondage—he was required to recognize the general of the society as occupying the place of God, and as possessing absolute authority over him, with the right to exact absolute obedience from him. He was reduced to the condition of a mere inanimate machine, with no discretionary power whatsoever over his own emotions, opinions, or actions. This obligation is thus expressed in the constitution: "He must regard the superior as Christ the Lord, and must strive to acquire perfect resignation and denial of his own will and judgment, in all things conforming his will and judgment to that which the superior wills and judges."[15]And, in order to assure, beyond the possibility of mistake, the complete surrender of all individuality, and to bring the probationer down to the lowest possible degradation, his uninquiring obedience is defined and exacted in these words: "As for holy obedience, this virtue must be perfect in every point—in execution, in will, in intellect—doing what is enjoined with all celerity, spiritual joy, and perseverance; persuading ourselves that everything is just; suppressing every repugnant thought and judgment of one's own, in a certain obedience; ... and let every one persuade himself that he who lives under obedience should be moved and directed, under Divine Providence, by his superior, just as if he were a corpse (perinde ac si cadaver esset), which allows itself to be moved and led in any direction."[16]
It would be hard to find, in any written or spoken language, words more expressive than these of the completeeradication of all sense of personality, unless it be some elsewhere employed in the same society to express the same or equivalent ideas. In the Prague edition of the "Institutes," the following is given as the language of one of its decrees: "It behooves our brethren to be pre-eminent in true and absolute obedience, in abnegation of all individual will and judgment."[17]The Jesuit Bartoli, in his history of Loyola, expresses the meaning of the constitution in substantially the same words, thus: "An entire abnegation of their own will, of their own judgment."[18]Elsewhere he says the members must act "according to the pleasure of the superior."[19]Again: "What can be more complete than our submission to the orders of our superiors in everything that concerns our state of life, the places we are to dwell in, the employments, the offices we are to be engaged in."[20]And again, this submission to the will and judgment of the superior, or general, is called "renouncing our own judgment," "the annihilation of self," "complete obedience, entire dependence upon the will of others, perfect abandonment of personal reputation."[21]
This self-abnegation, this slavery of the mind, is a worse form of servitude than the slavery of the body. The latter places fetters upon the limbs, the former rivets shackles upon the mind. A brief comparison will illustrate this. The methods of punishing slaves for disobedience have varied accordingly as masters have been humane or otherwise. Some have been compelled to endure the torture of solitary imprisonment and starvation; others to wear iron fetters until they have eaten, by slow degrees, into their flesh; and multitudes have escaped only with the lash. In all this, merely the animal capacity for enduring physical suffering has been put to the test,—the minds of the victims having been left free to implore the mercy and protection of Providence, accordingto their own wills and consciences. But this Jesuit method of training probationers and novices to secure their implicit obedience to their superiors, transcends anything pertaining, especially in modern times, to the relation of master and slaves. It trifles with the interests and destiny of the soul, its relations to God and to eternity, by substituting a mere man, with the passions and impulses of other men, as the final arbiter of human conduct, and with the power to open and close the doors of heaven at his own personal pleasure. It is for fitting him to assent implicitly to this that the Jesuit is required to abnegate his individual self, dismiss from his mind the idea that God gave him the priceless faculty of thought and reflection, and abase himself to such a degree that he has no will or judgment of his own concerning the future condition of his soul. By considering himself a mere corpse—dead to everything in life but humiliating obedience to the general—he consents to accept his commands as equal to those of God, and to recognize the sentence he might see fit to pass upon him in this life, in lieu of the judgment of God in the life to come.
There is a vast deal of cumulative evidence upon these points, which have evidently been considered fundamental and indispensable. Besides the foregoing humiliating vows, strict rules and regulations are established for the government of the novices. Number 34 is as follows: "At the voice of the superior, just as if it came from Christ the Lord, we must be most ready, leaving everything whatsoever, even a letter of the alphabet, unfinished, though begun." Rule 35 defines "holy obedience" to be "abnegating all opinion and judgment of our own contrary thereto [that is, to what they are commanded to do], with a certain blind obedience." Rule 36 is in these words: "Let every member persuade himself that those who wish to live under obedience, ought to suffer themselves to be borne along and governed through Divine Providence through the superiors, just as if they were a corpse, which may be borne as we please, and permits itself to be handled anyhow; or like an old man's stick, whicheverywhere serves any purpose that he who holds it chooses to employ it in."[22]The same ideas exactly are expressed in one of the vows which Loyola made conspicuous, and which is given by Bartoli in his biography, as follows: "I should regard myself as a dead body, without will or intelligence, as a little crucifix which is turned about unresistingly at the will of him who holds it, as a staff in the hands of an old man, who uses it as he requires it, and as it suits him best."[23]
The human mind is not fertile enough in invention to discover a lower depth of humiliation than this—a more complete surrender of all the ennobling qualities and instincts of manhood. If these have ever been possessed, the remembrance of them is required to be obliterated, so that there may be no room in the mind for a single generous emotion. When Shakespeare conceived the idea of a "mindless slave," he must have had before his mind the portrait of a Jesuit, after he had been disciplined and fashioned under the master-hand of Loyola, who left his followers no personal sense of truth or right or justice, having made their abnegation so thorough that, even with the knowledge of right and wrong, truth and falsehood, they were trained to incline indifferently to either as commanded by their superiors. He allowed no hesitation, heard no reasons, accepted neither apology nor excuse. Their whole duty consisted in blind and uninquiring obedience to him in thought, word, and deed, no matter what consequences might follow, or what harm be inflicted. What of consciences they had left, were required to become so callous as to be insensible to either honor or shame, all conscientious sense being extinguished as if it had never existed—like the light of a candle blown out. Nowhere else in the world, within the confines of civilization, has such a point of the absolute annihilation of individuality been reached. Nowhere else is a man required to acknowledge himself a "corpse," a "dead body," a "little crucifix," a"staff" in the hands of another, with no will, or thought, or sensibility, or emotion, except such as shall be dictated by those to whose mastery he has ignominiously submitted. It is the very perfection of tyranny, such as the most heartless despots known to history would have rejoiced to discover.
Far too little consideration is generally given, even by careful students of history, to this assumption of equality with Christ—this vain pretense of a state of divine perfection which recognizes a single human being as possessing upon earth the authority of God. Undoubtedly it is true that multitudes of individuals, of good intentions, have been misled by it into the false belief that the most prominent feature in the plan of Christ's atonement was the substitution for himself of a mere man, to whom alone, of all mankind, he assigned his own divine attributes. The original suggestion of such a proposition must have startled the Christian mind; and its establishment as an article of faith may be intelligently accounted for by the fact that the superstition and ignorance of the Middle Ages enabled monarchism in Church and State to perpetuate itself by requiring this dogma to be accepted as revealed by Christ himself. In evidence of its repugnance to the common sense of mankind, it is proper to observe that the Christian world has ever since labored hard to get rid of the delusion, and would in all probability long since have done so, but for the society of Jesuits, which has ceaselessly maintained it as an essential part of its machinery. That it is condemned and repudiated by reason, it requires no argument to prove in this enlightened age. If the Creator had designed that he should have such a representative upon earth after the ascension of Christ, he would have imparted his divine attributes to him by such manifestations of his own power as the world could not misunderstand—either by such simple and peaceful incidents as attested the birth and divinity of the Savior, or by such convulsions of nature as accompanied the delivery of the tables of the law to Moses. In the entire absence of any visible and intelligent evidences whatsoever of this divinepurpose, the pretension of it, as the mere means of acquiring authority over others and exacting obedience from them, is nothing less than presumptuous and vainglorious impiety. It seeks to dethrone God by abolishing the bar of judgment, where he has announced that all mankind shall appear; for what is it less than this to say that conformity to the commands of the Jesuit general assures, beyond any peradventure, admission to the kingdom of heaven? God manifestly reserved to himself this great prerogative; and he who claims it as pertaining to an earthly office of man's creation, arraigns the divine authority, and insults the Majesty of heaven by requiring that the Creator shall abdicate his throne. If, moreover, God had intended to confer divine attributes upon any individual man, it is contrary to a just estimate of his character, as well as to all human experience, to suppose he would have chosen the general of a society which has from its origin been a byword of reproach among the nations, upon which such a heavy weight of odium has rested that it has been ignominiously driven out of every nation in Europe; whose enormities compelled a good and virtuous pope to suppress and abolish it in order to assure the peace and welfare of the Church; and whose members are still skulking through these same nations, silently and secretly, as ghostly apparitions are supposed to move about in the night-time under the cover of darkness.
But the Jesuit constitution goes to even a greater extent of impiety. After a novitiate has, by the foregoing methods, been converted into an unthinking and unresisting piece of machinery, like a block of wood or marble carved by the hand of an artist, his course of future servility is so opened before him that he may fully understand how he shall give proof of fidelity to his vows, by doing whatsoever the general shall command, or by omitting to do whatsoever he shall forbid. Here the thoughtful reader to whom these revelations are new, no matter what form of religious faith he may profess, will be likely to pause in astonishment at the deliberately-avowed purpose to disregard the laws of States, ofsocial morality, and even of God, when the general shall command either of these things to be done. The following are the words of the constitution, as given by Nicolini:
"No constitution, declaration, or any order of living, can involve an obligation to commit sin, mortal or venial, unless the superior command it in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, or in virtue of holy obedience, which shall be done in those cases or persons wherein it shall be judged that it will greatly conduce to the particular good of each, or to the general advantage; and, instead of the fear of offense, let the love and desire of all perfection proceed, that the greater glory and praise of Christ, our Creator and Lord, may follow."[24]
This language should be re-read and carefully scanned; for, at a single glance, it seems to have been written so as to furnish ground for equivocation, a practice in which the Jesuits, by long use, have acquired consummate skill. It may be easily interpreted, however, in the light of what Bartoli says. According to him, the novice is required to place himself "entirely in the hands of God, and of him who holds the place of God by his authority," which, of course, is the general or superior. After setting forth that the novitiate is required to take this vow, "In everything which is not sinful, I must do the will of my superior and not my own," he enlarges upon the obligations of the same vow with the following particularity: "If it seems to me that the superior has ordered me to do something against my conscience, or in which there appears to be something sinful, if he is of a contrary opinion, and I have no certainty, I should rely upon him. If my trouble continues, I should lay aside my own judgment, and confide my doubts to one, two, or three persons, and rely upon their decision. If all this shall not satisfy me, I am far from the perfection which my religious state requires. I must no longer belong to myself, but to my Creator, and to those who govern in hisname, and in whose hands I should be as soft wax, whatsoever he chooses to require of me."[25]Another vow, also given by Bartoli, shows that this same obedience is due as well to a vicious and immoral as to a virtuous superior; that is, that by the religion which the Jesuits profess, it makes no difference, in so far as the obligation of obedience to his interpretation of the laws of God and morality is concerned, whether he be wise or unwise, saint or sinner. It says: "To believe that a thing ought to be because the superior orders it, is the last and most perfect degree. We can not arrive at this degree without recognizing in the person of our superior, be he wise or imprudent, holy or imperfect, the authority of Jesus Christ himself, whom he represents."[26]And another vow, illustrating the character of this obedience, is thus given: "With regard to property, I must depend upon the superior alone, consider nothing as my personal property, and myself, in all that I am, as a statue, which allows itself to be stripped, no matter what the occasion may be, and offers no resistance."[27]
It requires but ordinary sagacity to interpret all this; its meaning is too plain to mislead. The constitution, according to Nicolini, prohibits the commission of sin—not absolutely, but conditionally; that is, "unless the superior command it in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ;" which imports, as even an uninstructed mind may see, that there are occasions when the sanction of Christ may be invoked to justify the commission of sin; or, in other words, when the general of the Jesuits, by virtue of his representing God upon earth, may, at his own personal will, convert vice into virtue! The Jesuit is not permitted to do anything on his own account, or upon his own judgment, that would amount to sin; but must do, upon the command of the general, what he, in his own conscience, believes to be sin; because, as the general stands in the place of God, he is bound to accept it as not sin. The word "unless," as employed in the constitution, isa simple negation, which makes the plain meaning of the sentence this, that if the general does not command the members of the society to commit sin, they are not permitted to do of themselves what he considers to be sin; but if he does so command, in the name of Christ, then they may sin without fear of consequences, either in this world or in the world to come. Every instructed Christian mind, no matter what its form of faith, must consider this blasphemous, because it assumes that the general may successfully exercise the divine authority of Christ to authorize sin to be committed, or to condone and pardon it after commission. This assumption goes to the full extent of deciding what is and what is not sin, by considering it alone with reference "to the particular good of each" member of the society, or to its "general advantage," and not to the law of God. Whatsoever either of these shall require, if commanded by the general, "shall be done," if the command shall be given "in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ!" Nothing can be allowed to stand in the way of this. "No constitution, declaration, or any order of living"—not even the law of God—can be set up against the general! He occupies the place of God, and must be obeyed, howsoever the peace and welfare of the multitude may be imperiled, or the nations be convulsed from center to circumference. The society of Jesuits must obtain the mastery, even if general anarchy shall prevail, or all the world besides be covered with the fragments of a universal wreck!
There should be no mistake at this point, for the doctrine involved is vital to the Jesuits. Their society could no more exist without it than could a watch keep time after the removal of its mainspring. Although, unlike Nicolini, Bartoli does not give the precise words of the constitution, this important vow, as set forth by him in his life of Loyola, has substantially the same meaning. According to him, its import is plainly this, that the general, whether "wise or imprudent, holy or imperfect," stands in "the place of God;" that, whilst in the abstract it is sinful to commit sin, whenthe act is performed upon individual judgment, yet, if the general shall order it, and the conscience of the Jesuit rebel against it because he considers it sin, he shall "rely" upon the general, and not upon himself; that is, he shall so close his mind that no conscientious convictions shall penetrate it. And until he has reached this condition of stupid and servile obedience, he is "far from the perfection which his religious state requires." And, to reduce the matter to the plainest and simplest proposition, the Jesuit is bound "to believe that a thing ought to be, because the superior orders it;" so that, if he shall order sin to be committed, the Jesuit is required not to consider it as sin because God, through the general, commands it! This is precisely as if it were said that sin may be justifiably committed in God's name, whensoever it shall be required by "the particular good of each," or by the "general advantage" of the society. It requires, of course, no argument to show that this authority of the general is considered comprehensive enough to justify resistance or covert opposition to the constitution and laws of any State, or the violation of any treaty, contract, or oath, which shall stand in the way of the society in its struggle after universal dominion.
Here we have information from two sources with reference to Jesuit doctrine upon a point of the very chiefest importance. Nicolini was a native Italian, and resided at Rome, where he undoubtedly had access to the best and most reliable sources of information. Bartoli was a Jesuit, and must have been familiar with the principles and teachings of the society, or he would not have been trusted and patronized by it as the biographer of Loyola. They do not disagree materially with regard to the general principle which forbids sin in an abstract form and upon individual responsibility, but justifies its commission when ordered by the general of the Jesuits. It is, therefore, obviously deducible from this general principle, as stated by both of them, that when the general shall require the perpetration of any crime, or the violation of any obligation, or oath, or constitution, or law,or the performance of any act howsoever perfidious or shameless,—in all, or any of these cases, the Jesuit shall execute his commands without "fear of offense." The general is thus placed above all governments, constitutions, and laws, and even above God himself! There are no laws of a State, no rules of morality established by society, no principles of religious faith established by any Church—including even the Roman Church itself—that the Jesuit is not bound to resist, when commanded by his general to do so, no matter if it shall lead to war, revolution, or bloodshed, or to the upheaval of society from its very foundations. Everything is centered in the good of the society, and to that all else must defer. No wonder that the Jesuit casuists have found in this provision of their constitution the source of that odious and demoralizing maxim that "the means are justified by the end;" in other words, if, in the judgment of the general, the end is considered right, howsoever criminal or sinful, it becomes sanctified, and may be accomplished without "the fear of offense."
Nor is this all. After, as Nicolini says, "having thus transferred the allegiance of the Jesuit from his God to his general, the constitution proceeds to secure that allegiance from all conflict with the natural affections or worldly interests."[28]It does not allow anything—any affections of the heart or earthly interests of any kind or nature whatsoever—to intervene between the Jesuit and his superior. If he has family ties, he must break them; if friends, he must discard them; if property, he must surrender it to the superior, and take the vow of absolute and extreme poverty; he must, in fact, render himself insensible to every sentiment, or emotion, or feeling that could, by possibility, exist from instinct or habits of thought in his own mind. As it regards property, the constitution provides that "he will accomplish a work of great perfection if he dispose of it in benefit of the society." And continuing this subject, with reference to paternal affections, it continues: "And that his better example may shine before men, he must put away all strong affection for his parents, and refrain from the unsuitable desire of a bountiful distribution arising from such disadvantageous affection."[29]He shall not communicate with any person by letter without its inspection by the superior, who shall read all letters addressed to him before their delivery; of course, permitting only such to be sent by or to reach him as shall be approved. "He shall not leave the house except at such times and with such companions as the superior shall allow; nor within the house shall he converse, without restraint, with any one at his own pleasure, but with such only as shall be appointed by the superior."[30]He shall not be allowed to go out of the house unless accompanied by two of the brethren as spies upon his conduct, and the neglect of either to report faithfully what the others have done and said is held to be sinful. And to make sure that all the members reflect only the opinions dictated by him, they are bound to absolute uniformity, as follows: "Let all think, let all speak, as far as possible, the same thing, according to the apostle. Let no contradictory doctrines, therefore, be allowed, either by word of mouth, or public sermons, or in written books, which last shall not be published without the approbation and consent of the general; and, indeed, all differences of opinion regarding practical matters shall be avoided."[31]Commenting upon these things, Nicolini most appropriately says: "Thus no one but the general can exercise the right of uttering a single original thought or opinion. It is almost impossible to conceive the power, especially in former times, of a general having at his absolute disposal such an amount of intelligences, wills, and energies."[32]
If there were any evidences to prove that the Jesuits, as a society, have abandoned any of the principles or policy which bear the stamp of Loyola's approval, there would be no necessity, other than that which incites to historic investigation, for a careful and critical investigation of them. But there are none. On the contrary, it will be seen that, from their very nature, they are not susceptible of change so long as the society shall exist. The memory of Loyola is still preserved with intense devotion. He is worshiped as a saint, and the words uttered by him are as much reverenced as those spoken by the Savior. It seems impossible, therefore, to escape the conviction that this extraordinary society is unlike any other now existing, or which has heretofore existed, in the world. That it was conceived by the active brain of an ambitious and worldly-minded enthusiast, who had been disappointed at not winning the military distinction he had expected, is an irresistible inference from facts well established in his personal history. His vanity and imperiousness suggested the starting-point of his organization, whereby man was treated as incapable of intelligent reflection—fit only to become the unresisting tool of those who venture profanely to affirm, contrary to any divine revelation, that God has endowed them alone with authority to subject the world to obedience. His plan of operations was, from the beginning, a direct censure of all the ancient religious orders, as it was also of the methods the Church had adopted after the experience of many centuries. When he conceived it, his chief purpose undoubtedly was, as heretofore explained,[33]to make himself and his successors independent of and superior to the pope and the Church. His contemplated antagonism to both was sufficiently indicated by the fact that his original constitution centered absolute and irresponsible power in the hands of the general of his society; and the subsequent introduction of the simulated vow of qualified fidelity to the pope—which was brought about by a degree of necessityamounting almost to duress—has had no other effect than to tax the strategic ingenuity of more than one general by the invention of subterfuges to evade it. In furtherance of this idea, the society holds no intercourse with the pope, nor he with it. Its members are all independent of him. They are the creatures and instruments of the general alone. They obey him, and no other. If he, as the head of the society, does not think proper to execute the orders of the pope—as has often occurred—the question is alone between the pope and him, not with the society. The only point of unity is between the general and the members; and of this the society boasts with its habitual vanity. In enumerating the methods by which its duration is considered assured, Bartoli says: "The chief is a strict union between the members and the head, consequent upon entire dependence, which results from perfect obedience. Ignatius established amonarchical form of governmentin the society, and placed the whole administration of the order in the hands of the general, with an authority absolute and independent of all men, with the sole exception of the sovereign pontiff. The general then decided absolutely, both in the choice of the superiors, as well as in everything which concerns the members of the company."[34]This sufficiently shows that the pope deals alone with the general, and he alone with the society; except through the latter, the former can not reach the members, or communicate his will to them; and even when the pope communicates with the general, the whole obligation of the latter's obedience consists in sending the members of the society to whatsoever part of the world the pope shall direct without remuneration. And it is by these means that the society constitutes what Bartoli calls "one solid and durable whole," nominally with two heads, but practically paying obedience to but one.
It was scarcely necessary to say that the society existed under "a monarchical form of government," for it is impossible for such an organization to exist in any other form.In fact, it surpasses in that respect any institution ever known, not excepting the most tyrannical despotisms by which the Oriental peoples were held in bondage for centuries. Until the time of Loyola no man ever conceived—or if he did, the avowal of it is unknown to history—the idea that the plain and simple teachings of Christ, which are easily interpreted, could be distorted into an apology for reducing mankind to a multitude of unthinking corpses or dead bodies, without thoughts, opinions, or motives of their own, so that they should submit implicitly to the dictation of a single man, who, to prepare them for perfect obedience, required that the best affections of their hearts should be extinguished, and nothing generous or kindly or noble be permitted to exist in them. Absolutism could not possibly be carried further, for there is no degree of humiliation lower than that the Jesuit is required to reach. Howsoever cultivated in art, or learned in letters, or courtly in manners, or fascinating in oratory he may become, his conscience is dwarfed into cowardice, and he has parted with his manhood as if it were an old garment to be cast aside at pleasure. No picture of him could be more true than that drawn by the friendly pen of Bartoli, who tells us, boastingly, that "the society requires no members who are governed by human respect."[35]It requires, according to this biographer of Loyola, only those who hold in utter contempt the opinions of the world, those who extinguish in their minds all sense of either praise or shame, and who close all avenues by which men's hearts are reached by noble or generous or patriotic impulses. They seem to think that God, after making man "in his own image" and with capacity for inspiring thoughts, paralyzed his best affections in mere sport, and left him only fitted for blind obedience to an imperious master, who requires him to sunder all the tenderest domestic relations as if they invited to impiety, and who treats all the highest social virtues as vices when they do not advance his ambitious ends, and any form of vice as virtue when it does.