[158] When Does the Church Speak Infallibly? By Thomas Francis Knox, of the London Oratory. Page 67.
[159] Daurignac, p. 217.
[160] Ibid., p. 205.
RE-ENTERING SPAIN.
The decree abolishing the Jesuits was accepted by all the Roman Catholic sovereigns and people of Europe as final. It was an exercise of the highest authority of the Church. But it was not accepted by the Jesuits, who, in contempt of this authority, brooded over the purpose to plot stealthily against it until they could obtain its revocation from some sympathizing and pliable pope. Their position was that of condemned criminals—compelled to recognize the authority and jurisdiction of their triers, while secretly endeavoring to find or to create some antagonistic authority from which they could obtain a grant of pardon, or a revival of their power to repeat their offenses without pardon. It counted nothing with them that Clement XIV was canonically pope—their own interest outweighed anything that concerned either pope or Church. They were willing to obey the Church provided the Church favored their society, but not otherwise. Consequently, it may be said of them then, as at all other times, that they recognized no other form of Christianity than that which centered in Jesuitism, and no other authority than that of their general at Rome.
When re-established, they came out from their hiding-places, and appeared again in all the centers of European influence. Their numbers were sufficient to show that, instead of having considered their society abolished—as they were commanded to do by the decree of Clement XIV—their organization had been secretly and defiantly preserved, without any departure from the principles of the constitution, any abatement of their pretensions, or any perceptible diminution in their numbers. Each one reappeared in the old armor of the order—reburnished for use again. The weapons which Loyola had forged for deadly warfare against Protestantism were re-issued to the "sacred militia" of the order, and its drilled and submissive battalions renewed their old and familiar battle-cry, announcing their determination never to lay down their arms until all the fruits and consequences of the Reformation were exterminated. The possibility of achieving that result stimulated their ardor afresh; and they became more earnestly united than ever in the cause of the Bourbon monarchs, when they realized that Pius VII had assured the "Holy Alliance" that all the powers of the papacy should be employed to that end, and that they were to be placed, as the special champions of retrogression, in the forefront of the conflict. The times were such that they drew fresh inspiration from them. The jealousies and rivalries among the sovereigns had thrown all Europe into tumult. The French Revolution had been productive of consequences which created a flame of intense excitement, reaching the outer circumference of the Continent. Society was thrown into an agitated and perturbed condition, and the foundations of the strongest Governments were threatened.
The appearance of Napoleon had alarmed the hereditary sovereigns. He had succeeded in striking what they feared would be a fatal blow at the doctrine of the divine right and hereditary descent of royal powers. He had shattered Governments and destroyed dynasties with reckless audacity, in order to build up new Governments and dynasties obedient to himself. The reigning monarchs were dismayed at the rapidity and success of his movements—being unable to anticipate when or where his quick and decisive blows would strike. But when his star waned, they again applied their united energies to the revival of their claim of divine right and to a closer union of Church and State. They could not fail to see that monarchism was threatened with defeat unless some agencies could be discovered whereby the unwary populations who were striving after freedom could be brought back again into the net which the papacy and secular monarchs had spent centuries in weaving. These terrified sovereigns were seemingly relieved from their embarrassing fears when Pius VII ventured to bring to their aid what he intended should be the whole power of the Church, by restoring life to the dissolved society of Jesuits. They must have rejoiced as drowning men do when seizing upon some object that saves them. The Jesuit spirit did not need to be revived, for it had never been suppressed; and therefore they reappeared fully panoplied for the renewal of the battle against civil and religious liberty, the popular right of self-government, and all the beneficent influences of the Reformation.