A Candid History of the Jesuits

by Joseph McCabe

Until the year 1740 Prussia had remained almost entirely Protestant, so that it now almost makes its first appearance in the chronicle of the Jesuits. A small Catholic community existed here and there, but there was little proselytism, and there was not even a Catholic bishop. In 1742 Frederick won Silesia from Austria, and thus included in his dominions a large and disaffected Catholic population. As D'Alembert reminded Frederick, the Jesuits had done all in their power to hinder his occupation of Silesia, and they long continued to foster the Catholic wish to return to Austria. They were, he said in his Testament Politique (1751), "the most dangerous of all monks," and "fanatically attached to Austria." But they were a mighty power in Silesia. The Breslau University and nearly all the schools were under their control, and a large proportion of the population, having passed through their schools or enjoyed their ministration, were vehemently attached to them. Frederick decided that they must remain, and be watched carefully. In 1746 he examined their system of education and advised them to send for a number of French Jesuits, who would raise their standard. We can quite believe that their schools needed improvement, but Frederick had another advantage in view. A leaven of French Jesuits would help to counteract the Austrian bias.

Silesia was still in this condition when, in the year 1772, the Jesuits found themselves fighting for the life of their Society. Frederick had privately written that it "ought to be rooted out of the whole world," and ten years before he had seriously considered a proposal to expel the Jesuits from his dominions. It now, apparently, occurred to him that he had a splendid opportunity of conciliating Catholic Silesia and destroying the pro-Austrian sentiment. Joseph II. had abandoned the Jesuits to their enemies; Frederick of Prussia would espouse their cause, and not allow his subjects to be robbed of their ministers. We saw that the Jesuit General was well informed as to his attitude, and asked him to pose openly as protector of the Society. He probably answered that, while a Protestant dare not interfere in the discussions at Rome, he would keep the doors of Prussia open to them. When the brief of suppression appeared, he forbade the bishops to publish it in Silesia, and he offered General Ricci and his colleagues the hospitality of his dominions.

From that moment Frederick smiled at the anger of Rome and of the Catholic nations. The cynical humour of his attitude does not concern us, but the behaviour of the Jesuits themselves is a grave chapter in their history. At first, with their wonted casuistry, they declared that the brief was not binding, as it had not been addressed personally. When this supposed canonical irregularity was ridiculed, they, as I have said, pleaded that Frederick conscientiously believed himself bound to maintain the status quo, that he therefore refused to allow them to change their name, and that the interest of religion forbade them to ignore the commands of a powerful secular monarch. They were warned by their own colleagues in Italy that this hypocritically veiled rebellion was of itself a strong justification of Clement's indictment of the Society; they were reminded by the papal Nuncio at Warsaw that they had in fact incurred the penalties specified in the brief. Of all these warnings they took not the least notice, and the Catholic world had the singular spectacle of a band of priests who were understood to be the Pope's body-guard sheltering from his anathemas behind the shield of a free-thinker. Indeed, they went further, and, cynically ignoring their plea that they must obey their monarch, they sought to use Prussia for maintaining or restoring the full organisation of the Society. The Prussian representative at London helped them to communicate with the ex-Jesuits of England, and they proposed that a Congregation should be held at Breslau and a Vicar-General of the Society elected, as Ricci was still in S. Angelo. The English ex-Jesuits were, however, too scattered and helpless to join with them.

The Nuncio had reported to Clement that it would be unsafe to take drastic action, as Frederick would be inspired to retaliate. It was therefore directed that the bishops should refuse to ordain their growing members or give the usual spiritual powers, and the Jesuits felt that a serious situation would arise. With their Catholic flocks they had little difficulty. Clement XIV. was represented as a corrupt pontiff who had purchased the tiara by a simoniacal promise to destroy the Society, and who now wandered, almost insane, about the galleries of the Vatican moaning and crying: "I did it under compulsion." But they could not live long without the co-operation of the bishops, and an envoy was sent to Rome, in the name of Frederick, to arrange a compromise. They were to change their name and dress, modify their domestic arrangements as little as could be helped, and continue in their houses and colleges.

At this juncture, on 22nd September 1774, Clement XIV. died. He was in his seventieth year and had a chronic ailment (piles). The strain of the last four years and an acute disappointment in regard to the return of Avignon, Benevento, and Ponte Corvo had deeply affected his health. In April, moreover, he had been caught in a shower of rain, and, although he seemed to recover in the early summer, his condition became grave in July. By the end of August the succession to the papal throne was openly discussed. He sank slowly and continuously during the month of September, and died on the 22nd. It does not seem necessary to examine minutely the rumour that he was poisoned. His illness cannot be regarded as other than natural, and the repulsive details about the corpse which are given in St. Priest seem to be an echo of Roman gossip. If we decline to accept popular stories concerning Clement's mental condition—his administration is to the end marked by great sobriety and prudence—we must also decline to consider these rumours of poison. The two physicians declared that the death and the condition of the corpse were, in a sultry September, natural. It would hardly require much extension of Jesuit principles to sanction the poisoning of Clement XIV.; historically, however, we have not very serious ground to charge them with the crime.

On 15th February 1775 Pius VI. ascended the papal throne. The power and attitude of the Catholic monarchs was still such that there could be little chance of restoring the Society, and it seemed safe to admit a pope who was well disposed toward the ex-Jesuits. It was to Pius VI. that the Prussian envoy made his proposals, and they were gladly admitted. Directions were issued that the bishops of Silesia might grant powers to former members of "the extinct Society," and they entered upon a new phase of their rebellion. Instead of welcoming this regularisation of their position, they complained that Frederick had "gone over to their enemies" (the bishops), as he really had. In the course of the year 1776 the Silesian Jesuits were practically secularised. They were forced to abandon their costume, depose their superiors, and hand over their property to the State in exchange for a salary. They still lived in communities and enjoyed a certain immunity from episcopal control, but they were now "Priests of the Royal Scholastic Institute."

Frederick invited other ex-Jesuits to join his Institute, and a salary of 700 florins a year was assigned to each. In this condition the hundred ex-Jesuits continued to control education in Silesia, and quarrel with the secular clergy, until Frederick died in 1786. When the bishops objected to the fathers living in community, Frederick genially replied that at Rome one hundred and twenty of these ex-Jesuits were living in community, and he might be permitted to imitate the indulgence of the Pope. He remained to the end proud of his economical system of education and his triumph over the Papacy. His successor modified the Institute in some respects, but the changes were slight until the year 1800, when it was converted into the "Royal Prussian Catholic School Direction" and lay teachers were admitted to it. That was the end of one of the most famous and curious rebellions against the Papacy.

Some of the discontented ex-Jesuits passed in 1800 from Silesia to Russia, and we must now retrace our steps to consider the equally remarkable rebellion of the Jesuits in that country. Catherine II. had, like Frederick, sound political reason to patronise the Jesuits. In August 1772 Prussia, Russia, and Austria took the fragments of Poland which they had long coveted, and Catherine entered Polish Livonia and Lithuania with her troops. The ancient kingdom had decayed, as we saw, in proportion to the prosperity of the Jesuits, and it suffered the dismemberment with the impotent anger of an aged man. When the schismatical Catherine came to claim their allegiance, the Catholic clergy generally stood aloof in patriotic sullenness until the Jesuits took the lead. The admirable excuse is made for them that they were indifferent to politics and terrestrial arrangements of government, and recognised only a duty to obey the sovereign who actually held power. In point of fact, they knew that Poland had not the faintest hope of evading its hard destiny, and they hastened to greet the new ruler.

Catherine's searching eye at once realised the situation. These two hundred Polish Jesuits had an immense influence over her million and a half new subjects, and their advances must be met generously. Peter the Great had excluded Jesuits from Russia for ever; Catherine at once decreed that this prohibition was repealed as far as her Polish dominion was concerned, and she expressed a flattering admiration of their colleges. Her feeling was, obviously, that they would prove excellent teachers of loyalty to the Poles, but within a few months the Society was abolished by Clement and a new situation arose. Playing one of those little comedies which adorn their annals, the Polish Jesuits addressed to their new sovereign a most respectful entreaty that she would permit them to obey the command of the Pope. There is no doubt that this letter, which is reproduced with admiration in complimentary histories of the Jesuits, is genuine; it is, however, not explained how the Jesuits would lessen their usefulness to Catherine by changing their name and costume, and why they needed this imperial permission to make a change which did not concern her.

Catherine and the Jesuits had enough in common to understand each other. They wished her to forbid them to obey the Pope, and they would prove grateful. Catherine at once refused to allow them to change their names and their coats, and they reported to Rome that the secular power forbade them to comply with the brief, and, in the interest of religion, they must obey her. The situation was so scandalous, since the Papal Nuncio insisted on the dissolution of the province, that some of the more scrupulous of the fathers were abandoning their houses and seeking secularisation. To meet these secessions a letter from Clement to the Bishop of Warmie (an ex-Jesuit) was published, and in this letter Clement was represented as approving the existence of the Society in Russia. Although this letter is reproduced seriously by the French historian of the Society, it is a flagrant forgery. Clement and his Nuncio protested to the end against the position of the Polish Jesuits, and the course of the story will show that they themselves took no serious notice of this supposed authorisation. It is not the only untruth we shall have to trace to them.