On account of several clashes with the civil power, a priest had early been sent to Spain by the Church party to gain redress of grievances. Chief of these was their inability to guide the entire affairs of the colony into a narrow ecclesiastical groove. The result was, the introduction of new laws so favorable to the clergy, that, within three or four years, the colony swarmed with mendicant friars, whose habits, say the old chroniclers, placed the Spaniards and their vaunted religion in a most ridiculous light before the natives.
As most of these monks belonged to a different order from the bishop, who was an Augustinian, and as they often boldly defied his authority, he became greatly alarmed at their expanding power. But, after a fierce struggle, he succeeded in so curtailing their privileges that he still retained his pre-eminence in the colony.
Urdaneta and his Austin friars were the pioneers in the islands, and following them came a horde of Dominicans and Franciscans, and the Recoletos, or bare-foot monks. As the saving of souls was the chief policy of Philip II., the co-operation of the friars was eagerly welcomed by the early Colonial Government, and it must be admitted that without their influence the lot of the natives would have been a far harder one. For the substitution of the rites of paganism for those of Christianity, even in so crude a form as taught by the friars, was, in the main, beneficial. Religion—though not of a very exalted kind—was put on an ethical basis, and the self-denial, obedience, and sacrifice that formed the foundation of the new doctrine, somewhat reconciled the conquered races to the loss of their primal freedom.
The Monks Opposed to Reform.
These orders, presenting the united front of a corporation, were extremely powerful, and practically unassailable. When arrayed against an individual, it always resulted in his defeat,—that is, his expulsion or imprisonment. They practically had their way in all things and under all circumstances. Nothing could withstand them; for, to attack one friar was to attack his whole order. Thus, much injustice was occasioned. I have known a highly respectable man, possessed of great wealth, cheated out of house and home—yes, his very liberty—through the intrigues of a friar that desired to enrich his order. Such societies are a cancer in the body politic,—a constant enemy to good government, a menace to justice, and a foe to liberty.
In the future history of the islands, this will be found one of the hardest problems to solve. The easiest and most effective plan, it seems to me, is to cut the Gordian knot—that is, to expel the whole body of friars from the islands. By so doing, much shedding of blood will be saved. For I do not believe that these good brethren will soon cease to foment insurrection against the hated Protestant conqueror. They have ever been breeders of mischief under the congenial rule of Catholic Spain: what won’t they do under the régime of enlightened America, whose first thought is the liberty that means death to extortion and oppression—the cardinal principles of their order. By this, I do not mean a propaganda against the Catholic Church; for I am a Catholic myself, and firmly believe that this religion is far better suited to the character of our people than any form of Protestantism. But the appointment of secular Spanish or American priests to the parishes would do away with the evils of the other system, without doing violence either to the Church or to the conscience of the natives.
The monks have opposed every attempt at reform. Their policy has ever been the policy of ignorance, knowing that their livelihood depended upon its perpetuation. It has been their aim chiefly to limit public instruction to the mere rudiments of knowledge—giving to every subject a religious bias. Even the colleges and the University of Manila are not free from their narrow supervision; while they have ever maintained a rigid censorship over the press.
The natives, however, are gradually breaking through the network of superstition that centuries of priestcraft have woven round them. That they are open to conviction,—to the light of reason and the hope of truth,—deeds bear witness.
None but the most enlightened natives, of course, recognize, as yet, their spiritual wants or desire a higher moral state, but many of them, privately, attest their waning belief in the Church monopoly of all things temporal in their lives.