CHAPTER VII.
THE JESUITS.
The term Jesuit has various significations. It generally means the followers of Ignatius Loyola, who profess the rules of the Company; and also those who are in strict friendship with them, who eat their bread and are supported by them, and who are always anxious to ingratiate themselves in their favour. These may be considered the Acolytes of the Jesuits. Moreover, some are called Jesuits who are even opposed to the sect of Loyola, and are averse to any connexion whatever with its members; but who still think and act according to the principles of the Jesuits; they are equally subtle and ambitious, intriguing, time-serving, deceitful, and hypocritical, in every respect, as are the Jesuits themselves. The world is full of such persons, and they are called Jesuits, because they are in reality of the same school as the sons of Loyola, whose doctrines and maxims they follow, although they do not profess to be his disciples. It would be as ridiculous to see a soldier or a statesman, for example, in the dress of a Jesuit, as it was to see the Emperor Charles V. in that of a friar; but what would you say on hearing that Jesuitism was more nourishing among society at large, than even in the Company itself? Would you not smile to see the present members of the French Assembly marching as in a procession, each with a Jesuit by his side? Father A. for example, with M. de Montalembert; Father B. and M. de Corcelles; Father C. and General Oudinot, the bombarder of Rome; until we come to the last couple, Father Rootan, and the President of the Republic, Louis Bonaparte! This sight might make you smile; but the thought it would inspire, would kindle, as it does in me, a sentiment of indignation.
In this work I shall have occasion to speak of every description of Jesuit. Meanwhile, I have a few remarks to offer with respect to these sons of Ignatius. What part do they take in the Inquisition? The most active and the most influential. They are its right hand. Without their aid the twelve Cardinal Inquisitors would sit in vain; their long and secret meetings every Wednesday throughout the year, in the great hall of the Minerva, would tend to no effect. Of what service would be the weekly congregation of about seventy members of the Inquisition, held in the great hall of the Holy Office, at the Vatican, every Monday, without the zeal and unwearied activity of the Jesuits? Apparently they are nothing; in reality, everything. Among the servants of the Holy Office a Jesuit is never to be found; rarely among their coadjutors. A Jesuit is never seen entering the Palace of the Holy Office, or in conversation with an Inquisitor. It might even be imagined that the Reverend Fathers were opposed to the institution, or at least that they shunned all relation and intercourse with it. And so studiously do they keep up this appearance, that many persons actually believe that the Jesuits have nothing whatever to do with the Inquisition. Indeed, I was at one time of the same opinion, till I was fully enlightened on the subject by a Jesuit himself, and, what is more, a worthy Jesuit too! one who had been my tutor in the Belles Lettres, in the College at Viterbo, and whom I met again at Tivoli, in September, 1833.
I was there in the discharge of my duty as Visitor of the Dominicans, and at the same time availing myself of the salubrity of the climate, which was beneficial to my health. Accordingly, I was accustomed to walk every day for some hours in the country. The good Jesuit was soon aware of my regularity in this habit, and as the time I selected was invariably the last two hours of the day, he proposed to me to become my companion on these occasions. I believe it was the first time that a Jesuit had been seen walking abroad in company with a Dominican. My former master had become my friend; and although I had never at all liked the society of the sons of Loyola, yet I found this one, and another or two of a similar description, to be honest and worthy men, who, to their misfortune, had adopted the robe of the Jesuits. I was visited almost daily by my friend, who came either alone or in company with a lay brother; we walked out together, and entered into familiar conversation. One day we spoke about the Inquisition. We were alone, in that beautiful grove of olives which crowns the pleasant hill on which stands the town of Tivoli, so well known to Horace.
"How does it happen," said he to me, "that you have never been embroiled with the Inquisition? Some time ago I was told that you were Vicar of the Holy Office; but I have since, on better authority, learned that you were merely Vicar of the Sacred Palace. And I was glad that it was so,—it would have grieved me much to have heard that you were an agent of the Inquisition."
"Oh! I had neither inclination nor ability for the office: treachery, deceit, and malice are the necessary qualifications for its agents. An Inquisitor must be suspicious, prone to judge amiss, to convert shadows into substance, and to see everything in the darkest colours. In the eyes of an Inquisitor every individual is evil, and deserving of punishment. How could I be led to form injurious opinions respecting my brethren, when I am naturally disposed to see things in a charitable point of view, and as far as possible to make excuses for others? An Inquisitor, besides, is one who is lost to all sentiments of humanity, without heart or feeling, and more indifferent than a stoic. God preserve me from the temptation of ever connecting myself in the slightest degree with the Inquisition."
"As far as I see, then, it appears you have never entertained the least desire for such an office, I give you joy. The Inquisition is injurious to the Dominicans, who are prompted by an insane ambition to become Inquisitors, and this entails on them the hatred of the whole world. The Franciscans are too prudent to connect themselves with it. The Jesuits, more cunning than the rest, act as the monkey did when he made use of the cat's paw to get the chestnuts."
"How! do the Jesuits meddle with the Inquisition?"
"My dear friend, is it new to you? What would the Inquisition be without the Jesuits? The Dominicans may call themselves Inquisitors; but they could not even decline the noun Inquisition, unless the Jesuits taught them. In fact, what do the Inquisitors search out? They sit still to receive denunciations. The Holy Office would be but badly supported if it depended solely on the exertions and abilities of its own immediate officials. Unquestionably, St. Dominic, with his cloudy intellect, was an Inquisitor; Peter of Verona, commonly called Peter the Martyr, was more efficient, but his imprudence cost him his life. I marvel much that a similar fate did not befall Domenico di Guzman! He slew, and caused to be slain, many more than Peter of Verona ever did; of a ruddy complexion, fierce and sanguinary, he was equally imprudent as his disciple. Far otherwise was Ignatius Loyola; cautious and wary in all his operations, and, although a soldier, averse to exposing himself to danger, he cautioned his followers to use the utmost prudence in carrying out their measures, and by no means to expose themselves foolishly to public odium or indignation. I say foolishly, because what, after all, is the amount of profit, to those who are in the service of the Inquisition? You, who are a Dominican, understand this better than I do."