Thus ended the year 1589, but the year 1590 had new troubles in store. Up to that time, the Sacred Congregation, whose members, especially Caraffa, were friendly to the Society, had purposely delayed sending in a report to the Pope. He was indignant at this, and handed the case over to four theologians. Their verdict was in conformity with the views of Sixtus. They were more timid than the cardinals. By deduction from Aquaviva's argument against the findings, the first complaint was about the name: "The Society of Jesus." Then follow the various matters of stipends, penances, the profession, the examinations for grade, doctrines, the eighth rule of the Summary forbidding assistance to relatives, obedience, the account of conscience, delay of profession, fraternal correction, censors, and simple vows. Astrain gives Aquaviva's answer to all these charges in detail (III, 465). The cardinals, without exception, admitted Aquaviva's rebuttal, and when they gave the Pope their verdict, he said: "All of you, even those who are of my own creation, favor these Fathers." One thing, however, he insisted on, and that was the change of name, and he therefore ordered Aquaviva to send in a formal request to that effect. There was nothing to do but to submit, and the Pope signed the Brief, but as the bell of San Andrea summoned the novices to litanies that night, Sixtus died, and ever since the tradition runs in Rome that if the litany bell rings when the Pope is sick, his last hour has come. As was to be expected, the Society was accused of having had something to do with the Pope's opportune demise. The successor of Sixtus tore up the Brief, and the Society kept its name.
In spite of all this, the battle continued. Clement VIII succeeded Sixtus V on January 29, 1592, and his election was welcomed by the Spanish rebels, for he was credited with a personal antipathy to Aquaviva. Hence they revived Philip's interest in the matter. His ambassador at Rome was more than friendly to the project, and it was confidently hoped that the great Spanish Jesuit, Toletus, the friend of the Pope, could be won over. The fact that, at the suggestion of Aquaviva, the Pope had rendered a decision about the sacrament of Penance which the Inquisition regarded as an infringement of its rights, again brought that tribunal into the fray. The new plan of the conspirators was, first, to re-assert the claims advanced by Vasquez the year before, and failing that, to demand, at least, a commissary general for Spain. They wrote to Philip asking for his authorization and support. When Aquaviva was apprised of all this, he requested the king to name anyone he chose to pass on the proposal for a commissary. Philip picked out Loyasa, the instructor of the heir apparent; but he, after examining the question, bluntly told the insurgents: "I do not at all share your opinion, and I am positive that Ignatius, like St. Dominic and St. Francis, was inspired by God in the foundation of his Order. One Pope is enough to govern the Church, and one General ought to be enough for the Society." Foiled in this, they induced the Pope and the king to compel the General to call a general congregation; and in order to make it easier to carry out their plot, they persuaded the Pope to send Aquaviva to settle a dispute between the Dukes of Parma and Mantua, thus keeping him out of Rome for three whole months. Toletus is accused of having been a party to this removal of Aquaviva, but the proof adduced is not convincing. At Naples, Aquaviva fell seriously ill, and the Fathers demanded his recall. It was only on his return that he began to appreciate the full extent and bearing of the movement as well as the peril in which the Society was involved. For although all the cardinals were on his side, yet arrayed against him were the king, the Pope and a number of the professed. The case seemed hopeless. Finally, Toletus informed him that the Pope insisted on a general congregation and it was summoned for November 4, 1593.
To make matters worse, Toletus was then made cardinal; whereupon the insurgents asked the Pope to authorize José Acosta and some of his associates to enter the congregation — a privilege they had no claim to — and also to have Toletus preside. The congregation began its sessions on the day appointed. There were sixty-three professed present among them Acosta, but Aquaviva, not Toletus, was in the chair. The usual committee was appointed for the business of the congregation, and Aquaviva insisted that they should begin by investigating the complaints against his administration. They did so, and were amazed to find that all the charges were based on false impressions, personal prejudices, and imaginary acts. They were naturally indignant and when they reported to the Pope, he said: "They wanted to find a culprit and they have discovered a saint." The demands of the Spaniards were then examined. According to Jouvancy, the province of Castile fathered them. They were in the main: a modification of the time and manner of profession; the abolition of grades; the introduction of a new mode of dismissal; and the full use of the "Bulla Cruciata."
The business of the congregation was conducted as usual up to the twenty-first decree. Philip II of Spain had asked that the members of the Society should not avail themselves of the privileges accorded them — first of reading prohibited books; secondly, of absolving from heresy; thirdly, of exemption from honors and dignities outside the Society. The twenty-first decree states that the first two royal requests had already been acted upon. With regard to the third, it was decreed that his majesty should be entreated to use his authority against the acceptance of ecclesiastical and civic honors by members of the Society. It was only in the fifty-second decree that the Society expressed its mind on the race question, by ruling that applicants of Hebrew and Saracenic origin were not to be admitted to the Society. It even declared that those who were admitted through error should be expelled if the error were discovered prior to their profession. It had been found that out of the twenty-seven conspirators, twenty-five were of Jewish or Moorish extraction.
The twenty-seven guilty men were denounced as "false sons, disturbers of the common peace, and revolutionists (architecti rerum novarum) whose punishment had been asked for by many provinces. The congregation, therefore, while grievously bewailing the loss of its spiritual sons, was nevertheless compelled in the interests of domestic union, religious obedience, and the perpetuation of the Society, to employ a severe remedy in the premises." After recounting their charges against the Society, and their claim to be "the whole Society," although they were only a few "degenerate sons" the decree denounces them and their accomplices as having incurred the censures and penalties contained in the Apostolic Bulls, and orders them to be expelled from the Society. "If for one reason or another, they cannot be immediately dismissed they were declared incapable of any office or dignity and denied all active or passive voice." It also orders that "those suspected of being parties to such machinations shall make a solemn oath to support the Constitution as approved by the Popes, and to do nothing against it. If they refuse to take the oath, or having taken it, fail to keep it, they are to be expelled, even if old and professed."
Aquaviva had thus triumphed all along the line. He had not only saved the Institute, but had received the power of expelling every one of the insurgents if they refused the oath of submission. Acosta, the leading rebel, was one of the chief sufferers; although he was the representative of Philip II, he was struck, like his associates, by the condemnation. The one who was punished, most, however, was Toletus, who like Acosta had a Jewish strain, which may explain the moroseness which the delegates remarked whenever they met him, and also his complaints that "the proceedings of the Congregation could not have been worse ... that it had treated Philip like a valet."
Toletus, however, continued to fight. On January 12 he advised Aquaviva to propose the discussion of a change of assistants and a sexennial congregation. A commission was immediately formed to wait on the Pope, but it failed to see him; whereupon Toletus appeared on January 14 and informed the General that the two points should be regarded as settled without discussion. Accordingly, four days later, new assistants were elected, but the law of the six-year convocations became a dead letter. On January 8 Toletus had presented a document to the Pontiff urging nine different changes in the Constitutions, adding that Philip II had asked for them, though in reality the king had only asked that they should be discussed. Doubtless Toletus had misunderstood. Fortunately, the Pope would not admit all of the changes, but suggested to the congregation four harmless ones — first, that except for the master of novices, the term of office should be three years; second, that at the end of their term the provincials should give an account of their administration; third that the papal reservations should be observed; and fourth, that the assistants should have a deciding vote. The three first were readily accepted, and the fourth respectfully rejected. The remaining business was then expedited, and the congregation adjourned on January 19, 1594.
The conspirators, however, had not yet been beaten. They proposed to the Pope to appoint Aquaviva Archbishop of Capua. Of course, Aquaviva refused, and then it was cunningly suggested that it would be an excellent thing if the General, in the interests of unity and peace, should visit the Spanish provinces. Philip III, who was now on the throne, had been approached, and he wrote to the Pope to that effect. Clement rather favored the proposition, but Henry IV of France, Sigismund of Poland, the Archdukes Ferdinand and Matthias and other German princes protested. Then the Pope took the matter under consideration, but before he reached any conclusion he died, and the plot was thus thwarted.
The one who planned this visit to Spain was the plotter Mendoza. His purpose was simply to humiliate the General by confronting him with the king, the greatest nobles of the realm and the Inquisition, and then to force from him all sorts of permissions which were in direct violation of the methods of Jesuit life. The story, as it appears in Astrain, is simply amazing. Mendoza had actually procured from the Pope, through the magnates of Spain, permission to receive and spend money as he wished, to be free from all superiors, and to go and live wherever he chose. When Aquaviva protested to the Pope that such permissions were subversive of all religious discipline, His Holiness suggested a way out of the difficulty, which took every one by surprise — Mendoza was made Bishop of Cuzco in Peru. This interference of rich and powerful outsiders in the family life of the Society, as well as the shameful way in which some of the members sought the favor of men of great influence in the State may explain how, after the angry fulminations of the congregation against the Spanish plotters, it took several years to get even a few of them out of the Society.
The dispute, known as the "De Auxiliis," which raged with great theological fury for many years, had for its object the reconciliation of Divine grace with human freedom. "The Dominicans maintained that the difficulty was solved by their theory of physical premotion and predetermination, whereas the Jesuits found the explanation of it in the Scientia media whereby God knows in the objective reality of things what a man would do in any circumstances in which he might be placed. The Dominicans declared that this was conceding too much to free will, and that it tended towards Pelagianism, while the Jesuits complained that the Dominicans did not sufficiently safeguard human liberty and hence seemed to lean towards the doctrines of Calvin" (Astrain). It was not until 1588, that Luis de Molina, whose name is chiefly connected with the doctrine of the Scientia media, got into the fight. Domingo Ibánez, the Dominican professor at Salamanca, was his chief antagonist. The debates continued for five years, and by that time there were public disturbances in several Spanish cities. Clement VIII then took the matter in his own hands, and forbade any further discussion till the Holy See had decided one way or the other. The opinions of universities and theologians were asked for, but by 1602 no conclusion had been arrived at, and between that year and 1605, sixty-eight sessions had been held with no result. Thus it went on till 1607, when the Pope decided that both parties might hold their own opinions, but that each should refrain from censuring the other. In 1611, by order of the Pope, the Inquisition issued a decree forbidding the publication of any book concerning efficacious grace until further action by the Holy See. The prohibition remained in force during the greater part of the seventeenth century. The principal theologians who appeared on the Jesuit side of this controversy were Toletus, Bellarmine, Lessius, Molina, Padilla, Valencia, Arubal, Bastida and Salas.