By this time Acquaviva had established his authority more firmly than ever. The congregations had supported him; the revolt had been quelled; the rioters punished; and peace for the moment restored to the Society. “Acquaviva, so to speak, had gone through the iron age of the company—his successor was destined to govern in the golden age.... All, during a century, bestowed smiles upon the Company of Jesus. She became the favourite of the Popes and the kings—the confidant of their ministers—the director of the public spirit. All took inspiration from her—all returned to her as to its source.”[216] But, notwithstanding this flattering and in part true picture, the order had received a shock, the effect of which was soon to be made manifest. To govern the revolted province of Spain, Acquaviva, violating the fundamental law of the order, had appointed professed members as administrators of colleges, while, to meet the necessity of the moment, coadjutors fulfilled the duties assigned by the Constitution to the professed. This ultimately proved the ruin of the order. Besides this, Mariana[217] and Henriquez, two influential Spanish Jesuits, out of hatred to Acquaviva, had pointed out many abuses which had crept into the community, and bitterly inveighed against the tyranny of the General and a few of the higher functionaries. This had an immediate result most injurious to the order. Under the successors of Acquaviva, these seeds of revolt and disobedience spread so fast, that when, towards the year 1560, the General, Goswin Nickel, attempted to enforce obedience to the primitive rules, he was solemnly deprived by his disciples of all authority.
CHAPTER XI.
1600-1700.
DOCTRINES AND MORAL CODE OF THE JESUITS.
Let not our readers imagine that we shall enter into a profound theological discussion about the doctrines of the Jesuits. The thing has been repeatedly done, and we confess ourselves too deficient scholars in divinity, to throw any new light upon it. We shall briefly touch the theological question, and shall rather enlarge on those principles and maxims by which the Jesuits perverted the morals of their votaries, the better to domineer over them.
Acquaviva, in the Ratio Studiorum, had introduced a clause which threw the Roman Catholic world into confusion and alarm. Lainez, as we have observed, had already inserted a note in the Constitution regarding the study of scholastic learning, to this effect, that, “if any book of theology could be found more adapted to the times, it should be taught.” Acquaviva went a step further, and declared, “that St Thomas was indeed an author deserving of the highest approbation, but that it would be an insufferable yoke to be compelled to follow his footsteps in all things, and on no point to be allowed a free opinion; that many important doctrines had been more firmly established and better elucidated by recent theologians than by the holy doctor himself.”[218] This declaration produced a great commotion in the Roman Catholic world, and the Inquisition declared that the “Ratio Studiorum was the most dangerous, rash, and arrogant book that had ever appeared, and calculated to produce many disturbances in the Christian commonwealth.”[219] But a greater scandal and more violent tempest was awakened by Molina, who in 1588 published at Evora a work on grace and free-will,[220] which inculcated a doctrine quite at variance with that taught by St Thomas and received by the Church. He maintained that free-will, even without the help of grace, can produce morally good works, that it can resist temptation, and can elevate itself to various acts of hope, faith, love, and repentance. When a man has advanced thus far, God then bestows grace upon him on account of Christ’s merits, by means of which grace he experiences the supernatural effects of sanctification; yet, as before this grace had been received, in like manner, free-will is continually in action; and as everything depends on it, it rests with us to make the help of God effectual or ineffectual. Molina, in consequence, rejected the doctrine of Thomas and Augustine on predestination, and refused to admit it, as too stern and cruel. This is the substance of Molina’s doctrine.[221]
The Dominicans, a great part of the theologians, and some of the Jesuits, loudly exclaimed against it, and the Inquisition was on the point of condemning it, when, by the influence of Acquaviva, who sided with Molina, the affair was called up to Rome. Sixty-five meetings and thirty-seven disputations were held in presence of the Pope Clement VIII., who took a lively interest in the subject, wrote much upon it himself, and who was resolved to condemn the Jesuits’ doctrine. But when it was reported to him that the fathers spoke of calling a general council, and that in one of their public discussions the thesis to be proved was to this effect, that “it is not an article of faith that such and such a Pope (Clement VIII., for example) is really Pope;”[222] the poor Pope exclaimed, “They dare everything, everything!” paused, and died without having given any decision. The disputations were resumed under Paul V., who also held the doctrine of the Thomists. The Jesuits, however, had given him such proofs of their devotion in the affair of Venice, and were so powerful in the Church, that he had neither the heart nor the courage to condemn them. In consequence, in 1607 he imposed silence on both parties till he should pronounce a decision which would set the matter at rest.[223] As this decision never came, and as the doctrine of the Jesuits was not condemned, they chanted victory, and lost no time in having Molina’s book circulated and taught everywhere.
But a formidable antagonist arose a little later to oppose its progress. This was the sect of the Jansenists, so celebrated for its labours and sufferings, which form so interesting a chapter in the history of the Romish Church. Jansenius, the founder, was born in 1585, in Holland—studied at Louvain—was ordained a priest—and, in 1636, consecrated Bishop of Ypres. Shocked at the doctrine of the Jesuits, he and Du Verger de Hauranne (afterwards Abbot of St Cyran, by which name he is better known) plunged themselves into the study of the ancient fathers of the Church, and especially of Augustine; and, after six years of labour, Jansenius composed a book, in which the ancient doctrine of the Thomists was again propounded, advancing, however, a step towards Luther’s doctrine on grace and justification. Being smitten by the plague, Jansenius, on his death-bed, submitted his manuscript to the judgment of the Roman See; but St Cyran, without waiting for the oracle of the Vatican, published the Augustinus (such was the title of Jansenius’ work), which produced a great sensation. St Cyran became the chief of a school, in which were grouped scores of young ecclesiastics, and some of the most eminent men in France. The nuns of Port-Royal, amongst whom were almost the whole of the Arnauld family, under the guidance of the venerable Mère Angélique, the sister of the famous Arnauld, followed the doctrine of St Cyran. Cardinal Richelieu, jealous that any other person than himself should exercise influence or power, sent St Cyran to the dungeon of Vincennes. On the death of his persecutor, the noble sufferer being set at liberty, returned to his duties, and was received, and almost worshipped as a saint, by the increased number of his disciples. The Jesuits, alarmed at the favour with which the doctrine of Jansenius was received, bestirred themselves in every quarter to impugn it, and filled the world with their clamours and imprecations against the book, as if the Bishop of Ypres had denied the very existence of God. The Pope was applied to to anathematise the impious work; and, when he hesitated, they directed his attention to a passage, in which his infallibility was indirectly called in question. Of course this was a heresy not to be overlooked. Urban VIII. expressed his disapprobation of the book; but this had no effect in checking its popularity. Such men as Arnauld, Le Maître, De Sacy, Pascal, supported Jansenius’ doctrine, and their many followers disregarded the denunciations of its opponents. The Jesuits became furious. They embodied, in their own peculiar way, the essential doctrines of Jansenius in five propositions, and asked Innocent X. solemnly to condemn them. The Pope was a man who abhorred theological controversy, and would not willingly have engaged in this; but it was no longer in the power of the Court of Rome to resist the influence of the Jesuits. The five propositions were condemned, as tainted with heresy. The Jansenists indignantly denied that such propositions were to be found in the Augustinus, and that they expressed the sense attributed to them; but Alexander VII., who was now the reigning Pope, declared, by a bull, that the propositions were really to be found in Jansenius’ book. Of all the extravagant pretensions of the Roman See, this was assuredly the greatest. The Jansenists, in their defence, while they declared themselves good and devout Catholics, asserted, nevertheless, that the Pope’s infallibility did not extend to matters of fact. “Why make such a noise?” they said to their opponents—“we acknowledge that these propositions are heterodox. Shew us them in Augustinus, and we will unite with you in condemning them.” “We need not take the trouble to shew them to you,” was the answer; “the Pope has declared them to be in the book—and the Pope is infallible.” So, if the Pope affirms that a magnificent castle is to be found in the middle of the ocean, according to a doctrine to which the Papist sticks even in the present day, one must believe it, or be excommunicated! The Jansenists endured all sorts of persecution rather than submit to so unjust a decree; and it is a striking instance of human inconsistency, that men so noble and upright, who had approached so near the Protestant doctrine, at least in its most essential part, should continue within the pale of the Roman Church. The fact, we believe, may be partly explained by that pertinacity which men of all parties display in maintaining a position they have once taken up in any controversy, that they may not incur the ignominy of defeat. “The supporters of the Augustinus are heretics,” the Jesuits had said from the beginning; and the Jansenists, in order that the book might be declared orthodox, had indignantly repelled the accusation, and declared themselves good and devout Roman Catholics—and they maintained to the end their first declaration. Alas! how many eloquent pages Arnauld, Nicole, and Pascal have written, to prove themselves the votaries and slaves of the idol of Rome!
Not to interrupt our narrative, we have brought the reader far beyond the epoch we are considering. We must now look a little back, and see how the Jesuits had become so powerful a brotherhood. We have already seen what arts they used, and what doctrines they propounded, to get a footing in different countries, acquire an influence over persons of their own persuasion, and a preponderance in the Court of Rome. But as the doctrines and practices by which they had obtained their ends were no longer suited, or, at least, were not the most efficient, for the times, they now changed both doctrines and practices with wonderful promptitude.
When the order was established, the Court of Rome had itself to struggle for existence, and was on the verge of being stripped of its ill-gotten and ill-used authority. The politic Charles V. lent it soldiers—the Jesuits, theologians for the contest. Lainez, Salmeron, Lejay, and Canisius, rendered it as good and unequivocal services as the imperial armies. But such men as those were no longer needed. Not only had the flood of the Reformation been stayed, but Rome was in the utmost exultation at having reconquered many lost provinces; and, as theological controversies were now raging in the camp of her adversary, the Papacy, though emboldened to assert pretensions which, a century before, she would never have dreamt of mentioning, relaxed that activity which she had for a moment displayed, and returned to her former life of intrigues and indolence. However, the great contest with the Protestants had left among the Roman Catholics a tendency, a wish, we do not say to become better Christians, but to make a greater display of their religion. All the external practices of devotion which, in their eyes, constituted the true believer, were more eagerly resorted to; and, above all, the confessional was frequented with unprecedented assiduity. To have a confessor exclusively for one’s self was the surest sign of orthodoxy, and became as fashionable as it is now to have a box at the opera. Sovereigns, ministers, courtiers, noblemen—every man, in short, who had a certain position in society, had his own acknowledged confessor. Even the mistresses of princes pretended to the privilege—and Madame de Pompadour will prove to her spiritual guide that it is dangerous to oppose the caprices of a favourite. The Jesuits saw at once the immense advantage they would derive if they could enlarge the number of their clients, especially among the higher classes. They were already, in this particular, far advanced in the public favour; they were known to be very indulgent; had long since obtained the privilege of absolving from those sins which only the Pope himself could pardon; and Suarez, their great theologian, had even attempted to introduce confession by letter, as a more easy and expeditious way of reaching all penitents.[224]