The Footprints of the Jesuits

by Richard W. Thompson

Not to condemn their existence in Russia was a simple act of omission, differing essentially from a direct approval. But whether what he did was the one or the other, it undoubtedly had the effect of enabling the Jesuits in Russia to defy the decree of Clement XIV by keeping their organization alive there, so that at the death of Ricci they elected a successor of their own, who conducted himself and the society in open opposition to the Church, the pope, and the Canon law.[150] All, therefore, that can be justly said about Pius VI is, that he occupied an equivocal attitude—not willing to approve directly by any official act the existence of the society in Russia, yet leaving the decree of suppression in full force.

But whatsoever Pius VI may have done or said, his immediate successor, Pius VII, did "authorize the society to establish itself in White Russia." This he did in 1801, twenty-eight years after the decree of Clement XIV. It was not done, however, by a mere verbal declaration to that effect, but by a formal bull, or brief, or decree—no matter by what name it may be called—in observance of the usual formality. From this it is to be implied that there had been no attempt to change or limit the decree of suppression by Pius VI; for if there had been, this repetition would have been unnecessary. Pius VII manifestly understood that without the official solemnity of a new bull, brief, or decree, no effect would have followed; that is, that his mere verbal assent, if he had given it, would have amounted to nothing. But what he did was equivocal, to say the least of it, by both affirming and disaffirming the decree of Clement XIV. It affirmed it in so far as the decree was left in force in the Roman Catholic States of Europe, where the jurisdiction of the pope as the head of the Church was recognized; and disaffirmed it in Russia, where the pope had no jurisdiction. It was as much as to say that the Jesuits should not exist as an organized society among Roman Catholics, but might do so among schismatics and heretics. No matter what idea he intended to convey with regard to their abolition among the former, he accepted it as an accomplished fact which he was officially bound to recognize. To have done otherwise would have been perilous to the Church by inciting the opposition of the Roman Catholic sovereigns, who could not be reconciled to the Jesuits, and would have offended the multitude of European Christians who had approved their abolition. Up to the first year of the present century, therefore, the decree of Clement XIV remained unreversed throughout Europe, and wheresoever the jurisdiction of the pope was recognized. Whatsoever the Jesuits did to resist, defeat, or evade it, must, consequently, be considered willful disobedience to the recognized and legitimate authority of the Church; in other words, as rebellion.

This measure of leniency on the part of Pius VII had the effect upon the Jesuits of making them bolder in their general conduct and more vindictive in their denunciation of Clement XIV, whose name and memory they assailed with fierce and foul aspersions. They flocked to Russia in large numbers, as they had done to Silesia, from all the Roman Catholic States, and, under the guidance of their skillful general in that country, soon acquired the habit of acting as if they were sure of an ultimate revival of their organization. Thus sustained, it was not long before they re-entered Parma and Sicily, with the implied if not express approval of Pius VII, who seems to have been gradually preparing himself, by cautiously feeling his way, to espouse their cause and to acquiesce in their defamation of Clement XIV. As their hopes grew higher they began to repeat their old practices by venturing to interfere with the temporal affairs of Governments, as they had been accustomed to do before their suppression. They ventured the attempt to domineer in Russia as they had formerly done in Spain, France, Portugal, and elsewhere. Finding themselves, for a time, unrebuked by the Russian authorities, they carried this interference so far, and became so exacting in their demands, that the Russian Government was compelled, in self-defense, to impose restraints upon them. They had learned so well how to plot treason and rebellion in the Roman Catholic States as to make themselves familiar with all the artifices and instrumentalities most effective for those purposes, but their Russian field of operations presented difficulties they had not probably anticipated. The pope, whether for or against them, had no power there, and they were required to deal only with the authorities of that Government. Those authorities soon became convinced that they had warmed a viper into life, and that the Jesuits could not be trusted even in return for favors bestowed upon them. The Russian emperor, Alexander, was consequently compelled to issue a royal ukase in 1816, by which he expelled them from St. Petersburg and Moscow. This proving ineffectual, he issued another in 1820, excluding them entirely from the Russian dominions. The emperor set forth in his decree that he had intrusted them with the education of youth, and had imposed no restrictions upon their right to profess and practice their own religion, but that they had "abused the confidence which was placed in them, and misled their inexperienced pupils;" that whilst they enjoyed toleration themselves, "they implanted a hard intolerance in the natures infatuated by them;" and that all their efforts "were directed merely to secure advantages for themselves, and the extension of their power, and their conscience found in every refractory action a convenient justification in their statutes." After showing how insensible they were to the duties imposed on them by gratitude for the protection Russia had extended to them after the abolition of the society by the pope, and charging them with the egregious crime of sowing tares and animosities among families, and tearing the son from the father, and the daughter from the mother, Alexander asks this emphatic and significant question: "Where, in fact, is the State that would tolerate in its bosom those who sow in it hatred and discord?"[151]

This was the first attempt made by any State not Roman Catholic to expel the Jesuits, and it is not pretended, even by the Jesuits themselves, that it was on account of their religion, which the Russian Government allowed them to exercise freely. It must have been, therefore, the consequence of their having convinced the Russian authorities that they employed their religion as a pretext for their interference with temporal and political affairs; and that they had thereby made themselves rightfully amenable to the charges alleged against them in the ukase of the emperor. It is no defense against these charges to say that the emperor may have been mistaken. This is not probable; for the fact of their having plotted against the peace and interests of society in return for the favors he bestowed upon them, would have justified him in condemning them even more severely. There are very few offenses so base as ingratitude, which excludes the higher emotions from the mind. He gave them shelter and protection after the pope and the Roman Catholic powers had condemned and abolished them; and but for this they would have passed away forever, overwhelmed by the popular indignation. The very fact that he found himself constrained to arraign them as he did, with such crushing severity, is convincing proof of their ingratitude, as well as of their inability to exist anywhere, in fidelity to their constitution, without warring upon the peace of society and upon everything they are unable to subdue and control.

It is to be presumed that the Jesuits professed submission to Russian authority before the decree of Pius VII which allowed them to exist in that country. But after the same pope re-established the order, as he soon did, by another special decree, their schemes of ambition were more actively and openly plotted. This last act, which restored them to active life, was dated August 7, 1814, and inasmuch as it enabled them to reproduce all their old machinery of mischief, it deserves to be well considered, both as regards the character of the act itself, and the motives of its author. It constitutes one of the important events in modern history, the influences of which have not yet ceased, and are not likely to cease so long as the contest between monarchism and popular institutions shall continue. Pius VII was a monarchist in principle, besides being a temporal sovereign. Monarchism was seriously threatened, and was ready to accept whatsoever alliance its defenders deemed essential to its preservation. Popular government was the special dread of kings, and there were none of these who did not understand that nowhere else in the world was it more severely condemned than in the Jesuit constitution, and none who would rejoice more at its extermination than the members of the Jesuit society. We should glance, therefore, at the condition of the European nations at the time of Pius VII, in order to penetrate his motives and comprehend what he must have regarded as the necessity which influenced him in aiding the Jesuits to cast reproach upon the memory of Clement XIV, one of the most meritorious of his predecessors.

The French Revolution had made the attempt, in imitation of the example of the United States, to scatter the germs of popular representative government throughout Europe. Whatsoever errors sprang out of that great movement are attributable more to the pre-existing influences and prejudices of false education, and to the aid which monarchism derived from the ill-fated union of Church and State, than to all other causes combined. When the European States became convulsed by this event, the Jesuits seized upon the opportunity to persuade the reigning sovereigns that the support of their society as organized by Loyola, was absolutely necessary to the preservation and continuance of the principle of monarchy; and that without their co-operation the people, who were incapable of conducting the affairs of government, would triumph over kings. They assailed liberalism in every form, from the French Encyclopædists to the humblest advocate of popular government, consigning all of them to eternal tortures for venturing to assert the natural right of mankind to civil and religious liberty. This was congenial work to them; for, although not yet re-established, they felt assured that if they could excite the fears of the sovereigns at the probable loss of their royal authority, they would thereby set in operation a current of influences which would soon reach Pius VII, and lead him to disregard the decree of their abolition, and to cast his lot along with the other kings, whatsoever effect might be produced upon the fortunes of the Church. Loyola had founded the order upon the plea of its necessity to counteract the influences of the Reformation in the sixteenth century; and now in the nineteenth, the same argument was repeated, so varied only as to embrace all the existing fruits of the Reformation, including the right of the people to self-government. The Jesuits did not miscalculate. They knew how to excite both the fears and bigotry of the sovereigns. They understood Pius VII, and succeeded at last in obtaining from him the decree for their re-establishment, by virtue of which they have since existed, and are now scattered throughout all the nations, with neither their ambition nor thirst for power in the least degree slackened.

Everybody at all familiar with history understands how necessary it was considered by the "Allied Powers" to recast the history of Europe after the escape of Napoleon from the Island of Elba. For this purpose their representatives assembled at the Congress of Vienna, and took to themselves the name of the "Holy Alliance," which, according to Prince Metternich—who was its leading spirit—was induced by "the overflow of the pietistic feeling of the Emperor Alexander [of Russia], and the application of Christian principles to politics;" in other words, "a union of religious and political-liberal ideas."[152] This effort, on the part of the monarchists of Europe was designed to give renewed prominence to the idea that kings governed by divine right; in other words, to establish the union between Church and State so completely that it could never be again disturbed. It was intended to teach the people that all the liberties they were entitled to possess were such only as the governing monarchs deemed it expedient to grant them; that they were entitled to none whatsoever by virtue of the natural law; that the attempt to establish representative and liberal government, like that of the United States, was an unpardonable sin against God; and that the highest duty of citizenship was obedience to monarchical authority.

Not the least conspicuous among the maneuvering sovereigns and politicians of Europe at this time was Pius VII, who felt himself to be the most illustrious and important representative of the divine right of kings. He hated Napoleon intensely, if for no other reason, because the "little Corsican" had arrested and held him in confinement. In casting about to discover by what means he, as pope, could render the most conspicuous aid to the cause of monarchism, and the suppression of liberal and popular government, he naturally turned in the direction of the Jesuits, whose fidelity to the principles of absolutism was vouched for by the constitution of their society and their intense devotion to the memory of Loyola. He, accordingly, whilst the monarchs were preparing for the Congress of Vienna, and only a few months before its assembling, anticipated their action by re-establishing the society of the Jesuits. His prompt action commended him to the allied sovereigns, who could not have failed to see in it sufficient to assure them of his hostility to popular government and his fidelity to the monarchical cause. His purposes may be inferred from the language of his decree. He declared that he should be derelict of duty, "if placed in the bark of Peter, tossed and assailed by continual storms, we [he] refused to employ the vigorous and experienced rowers [the Jesuits], who volunteered their services, in order to break the waves of a sea which threatened every moment shipwreck and death."[153] What did he mean by the storms that tossed and assailed the bark of Peter? The Governments were agitated by political and military turmoil, but these things were not within the rightful province of the Church or the pope. The Church was at peace, except in so far only as Pius VII had voluntarily chosen to mix himself up with the political struggles of kings, in order to preserve his own temporal crown. That he intended to become an active party to these struggles is proved by all that he said and did—even by the language of his decree. In explaining his action, he says that Ferdinand, King of Sicily, had requested the re-establishment of the Jesuits, because it was necessary that they should be employed as instructors "in forming youth to Christian piety and fear of God." Ferdinand was one of the most bigoted kings and thorough monarchists in Europe, and his idea of "Christian piety and fear of God" was, that it centered in the divine right of kings and the union of Church and State. With him religion and monarchism were synonymous terms. If he sometimes made small concessions to his subjects from fear of the popular wrath, they were always withdrawn when his power became strong enough to enable him to renew his oppressions with impunity. He acted upon the Jesuit principle that a monarchical sovereign is not bound by any promise he makes to his subjects, for the reason that the latter have no rights which the former are bound to recognize, and if they had, that the pope could release him from the obligation to obey his promise—a doctrine then strictly adhered to so as to make popular institutions impossible. His main purpose was to perpetuate his own temporal and political authority, and he desired to employ the Jesuits for that purpose, well knowing that their doctrines were expressly designed to hold society in obedience to monarchism. Pius VII did not hesitate to avow his sympathy with Ferdinand, and in doing so proved that he was influenced by the same temporal and political motives. He considered it necessary that the crown of absolute sovereignty should be kept upon the head of Ferdinand, in order to assure himself that it should be kept also upon his own. The sovereigns of the "Holy Alliance" had massed large armies, and soon entered into a pledge to devote them to the suppression of all uprisings of the people in favor of free government; and he desired to devote the Jesuits, supported by his pontifical power, to the accomplishment of that end. He knew how faithfully they would apply themselves to that work, and hence he counseled them, in his decree of restoration, to strictly observe the "useful advices and salutary counsels" whereby Loyola had made absolutism the corner-stone of the society.

Thus the motives of Pius VII are clearly shown to have been temporal and political, and when he excused himself on account of the "deplorable times"—that is, the political disturbance among the nations—he manifestly had in view the advancement of those plottings against popular liberty which soon furnished the rallying point to the "Holy Alliance" at Vienna. He seems to have been so intent upon this subject as not to realize that he owed at least some show of respect to the memory of Clement XIV. As if unconscious that when the latter abolished the society, he also was the head of the Church, possessing all the powers and prerogatives of a lawfully-elected pope, he abrogated and annulled his decree as if it had possessed no higher dignity than a municipal ordinance, imitating in this the practice of those sovereigns who brush all impediments out of the paths of their ambition. He conferred upon the Jesuits the right to exist as an order throughout the world, and thereby approved and indorsed their vilification of Clement XIV. And to show his own estimate of the plenitude of his pontifical authority, he declared that his decree of restoration should be "inviolably observed," and that it should "never be submitted to the judgment or revision of any judge." And then, as if he stood in the place of God, whilst Clement XIV had rebelled against the Divine authority, he commanded that "no one be permitted to infringe, or by an audacious temerity to oppose any part" of his decree; and made disobedience to it an act of sin, by declaring that he who shall be guilty of it "will thereby incur the indignation of Almighty God, and of the holy apostles Peter and Paul." He treated contemptuously the decree of Clement XIV, without the least pretense that the Jesuits had repented of the crimes for which he abolished their society after four years of careful investigation, and without any pledge upon their part not to repeat them—a serious and dangerous omission.[154]