The Black Pope_A History of the Jesuits Read online

  What mighty effects arise from apparently accidental causes! Probably Loyola saw little difference at first between the romances and the legends, but as he read he was seized with the idea of devoting himself to the militant service of the church, as he could no longer devote himself to the military service of his country. He needed an idealised woman to replace the ladies fair, if not frail, to whom he had done his devoir in court and tented field, so Loyola now offered to the Queen of Heaven the devotion which he had previously offered to ladies, who had been saluted queens of beauty in the Court of Spain.

  If we would read the history of this remarkable man aright, we must study the mental conditions in which he found himself, and the customs of the country, and the times in which he lived. Instead of placing the colours of his inamorata on his lance, or in his corslet, and challenging his fellow knights to do battle in her honour, he took the garb which, according to the religious ideas of the times, was the garb most pleasing to the lady whom he now desired to honour with especial veneration. He clothed himself in the rags of a pilgrim. He flogged his body till the blood came. He fasted until he saw visions, and the more he flogged himself the more visions he saw, and the more visions he saw the more he fasted. It was simply cause and effect. The mind weakened by the weakened body, was no longer master of his God-given intellect. He was guilty of intellectual suicide, for he deliberately deprived himself of his mental powers. No wonder if in such a state of mind the idea should have come to him of framing a rule which requires the abnegation of God’s best gift to man. A general who was about to engage in an anxious and important campaign would not dream of preparing himself for it by deliberately weakening his intellectual faculties, yet this is precisely what the Spanish devotee considered to be necessary for the success of his enterprise.

  Loyola, once the knight errant, had now become the Saint, according to his narrow ideas of sanctity. His relatives expostulated with him in vain. He had read the lives of the saints during his long illness, and he had determined, with that dogged determination which seems to have been the dominant feature in his character, that if he could not become famed as a knight, he would become famed as a saint. He has accomplished his desire, but how far either he, or the world at large, has benefited by his ambition, let history tell.

  Yet with all this infliction of penance Loyola was not happy. It is true he had visions which must have gratified his vanity; but the visions gave no peace to his restless soul. On one occasion he lay for eight days in a trance or swoon; but his awakening did not find him any the happier. He was haunted by demons and distressed by doubts. Probably he believed in his visions, and his demoniacal apparitions were to him realities. It was an age of belief in the marvellous. The priest cannot secure power or influence with the people, unless he can show signs or supernatural manifestations. It needed not that these marvels should be genuine, so long as an ever credulous public believed them to be such. It needed not that the miracle worker should be a deliberate impostor, he needed only to believe in himself.

  It should never be forgotten that the power of the priest rests solely on the credence of the people. The people cry out for a saviour, for certainty of heaven, for an assurance of exemption from the terrors of hell. Hence priestcraft can neither do without hell nor purgatory. Take away both, or either, and its power is gone. But in order to maintain a belief in the supernatural power of the priest, there must be some apparently supernatural evidence, hence these miracles, not only of the sixteenth century, but of the nineteenth. Today we are told that St. Winefrede has given the power of speech to a woman who had not spoken for at least two years. But the case had already been diagnosed by the medical faculty as one of simple hysteria. At the period of which we write a still more wonderful miracle was reported from Paris.

  A certain old ironmonger, Eustache Moubon by name, died there, not exactly in the odour of sanctity, but he was devout to the Virgin all the same, or, perhaps, all the more. It was on the night of the 6th January, 1482, when a magnificent bonfire had been commanded. Some boys bethought them that the pallet on which he lay dead would serve to help their fireworks. They accordingly seized it and threw it down in the street. It was then seized on by a vagrant, who lay down on it, hoping to secure a good night’s rest. The boys soon returned with more pillage for the flames, and amazed at what they supposed to be a vision, rushed off with piercing screams, declaring that it was the ghost of the ironmonger. This was sufficient to form the groundwork of a stupendous miracle. On the following day the pallet was taken in state to the Church of St. Opportune, where it remained until the year 1789, and a handsome income was made by the authorities, by whom it was exhibited as a proof of the power of the Virgin, whose statue had effected the miracle of exorcising the soul of Moubon, which had hid itself in the straw to trick the devil.

  Loyola acted according to his lights. His Church taught that the doing of certain acts of bodily mortification would obtain a very high place in heaven for the doer, and that they would be very acceptable to the Virgin, if offered in her name. Furthermore, Loyola knew that canonisation was the highest honour that the Church could bestow, and that the practising of such mortifications was the sure road to canonisation. If he could no longer hope to have his name handed down in the annals of his country as a distinguished general, he might obtain the honour, as he did eventually, of having his name handed down by the Church as worthy of a place on her altars.

  We are not writing a life of Ignatius Loyola, hence much of his personal history must be passed over, and only as much related as will show the character of this marvellous man who succeeded in founding an organisation which has more than once convulsed Europe by its ambitions. It can scarcely be denied, except by his submissive disciples, that he acted in direct opposition to the plain counsels of Christ, whose name he so ostentatiously assumed. Our Lord declared that His kingdom was not of this world, and by His manner of life showed that the things of time and sense were but trifles, whose only importance might be found in the use which might be made of them for the eternal interests of the users. The Jesuit, on the contrary, has always been clamorous for power and wealth, and has in consequence occupied himself both individually and collectively with the rich rather than with the poor.

  Apparently Loyola became tired of his life of self-mortification, for we find that he set out for Palestine by way of Rome, in the year 1523. To follow his various wanderings during the next few years would be impossible, and is not necessary. Arrived at Jerusalem, where the Franciscan Fathers held full spiritual authority, he thought he might at once commence his self-imposed mission of converting the heathen. But there were two invincible difficulties in the way—his culpable ignorance of the commonest elements of the Christianity which he proposed to teach, and his entire ignorance of the language of those whom he wished to convert. It was in vain that he assured the Provincial of the Franciscans that a miracle would be worked in his behalf; the Provincial did not believe in such miracles. Possibly also he may have accurately gauged the character of the ex-Spanish grandee, and feared a troublesome, even if ignorant rival. The result, however, whatever may have been the cause, was that Loyola at last realised that he was absolutely ignorant even of the commonest elements of theology, or literature, and with characteristic impetuosity he set about acquiring the knowledge which he needed. It is indeed difficult to determine whether Loyola most abounded in self-confidence, or in ignorance of his deficiencies.

  For two weary years Loyola sat in a grammar school with mere boys, and subjected himself to their ridicule and his master’s reproaches, with the same grim determination with which he had borne the torturing of his limbs, when the object to be attained was the gratification of vanity. His submission to torture from such low motives is passed over lightly in the Jesuit Schools and novitiates, while the humiliation he suffered in the pursuit of learning, is held up as a model which cannot be excelled. In the year 1526, he proceeded to Alcalá, where the famous Cardinal Ximénes had fo
unded a school, and here he combined his favourite pursuit of begging and preaching, with the study of theology and logic, but he soon abandoned the latter, as he found it too difficult for his limited intelligence. All the same, or perhaps all the more he gained notice, and attained one object which was of supreme moment. He knew that he could not carry out his projects single handed, so he left no effort unused to attract young men, whom he hoped would eventually join him. He succeeded in persuading three youths to unite with him in preaching. They knew little, if anything, more than their master, but they all agreed to wear a singular garment which at least had the advantage of marking them out as something apart from the common herd, and they also succeeded in arousing the jealousy of the priests and monks of Alcalá. Rome boasts not a little of her unity of doctrine, though at least twice in each past century she has changed her creeds on points of vital importance. Rome boasts of her unity in good works, yet every life of her canonised saints gives ample evidence how the saints persecuted each other with an acrimony which those to whom they preached never attained in their secular conflicts.

  Loyola was now denounced to the Inquisition by his jealous compatriots and religious brethren. It was needful, of course, to give some appearance of justice to the charge, and the charge was a remarkable one, in view of the mystical character of the teaching which he eventually established. He was cast into the prison of the Inquisition on the charge of being one of the Alombrados or Illuminati. The origin of this sect, or school of philosophy, is shrouded in mystery. It is, however, worthy of note that there is a very curious connection between the directions given by Ignatius Loyola in his famous “Spiritual Exercises,” and the directions which were given to the Buddhist novice, on his initiation into the higher mysteries of that creed, and the Alombrados or Illuminati were of distinctly Buddhist origin. Von Hammer, in his History of the Assassins, a branch or development of the Illuminati, points out singular parallels between the teaching of Loyola and the Assassins. Nor can it be said that drawing attention to this parallelism is a mere Protestant prejudice, since the first charge was made by the priests of Alcalá, and in the very life-time of the founder of the Jesuits. The whole subject is one which has hardly met with the consideration which it deserves, and is of grave importance in view of the recently restored power of the Jesuits in nearly every European country. Of all Christian kingdoms Spain has been the most given to a mysticism, of which St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross are eminent examples. But whether the temperament in which this mysticism was engendered and perfected was the result of climatic conditions, or of racial development, we do not profess to decide. One thing however is certain, that their peculiar forms of devotional practices closely resembled the initiatory stages of Buddhism. The word Assassin is actually derived from the word Hashishin, which is again derived from Hashish, the eastern intoxicant. The Assassins ceased to be a recognised body after the Crusades, but their doctrines and some at least of their practices long survived in Spain amongst the Herbes or natives of Barbary. This accusation against Ignatius Loyola of being connected with the Illuminati, stopped his career for the time in Alcalá. He was acquitted of heresy, but severely condemned for his theological ignorance, and duly warned by the Inquisitor that if he preached any longer while so ignorant of even the elements of religion he would meet with severe punishment. He was also obliged to lay aside his eccentric dress and to betake himself to another university. It may be noticed here that the peculiar teaching and practices which have again and again formed the ground of the expulsion of the Jesuits by Roman Catholics from Roman Catholic countries, had their first development in the life time of Loyola. For example, he had obtained such influence over two ladies of immense wealth in Alcalá, that he induced them to leave their homes, and go forth on a begging expedition for the purpose of perfecting themselves in humility. The relatives of these ladies did not view the interference of Loyola in a favourable light, and he was again thrown into prison until his fair disciples, weary of the penance he had imposed on them, returned to their friends and resumed their place in society. Ignatius Loyola arrived in Paris in the early spring of 1528. He was accompanied by some students who had been converted to his views. His object in going to the French capital was to find a place where he could pursue his studies unobserved, and develop his plans without ecclesiastical interference. He had made the discovery, often made before and since his time, that there is no place so safe as a crowd for those who for any reason wish to pass unnoticed.

  The Society of Jesuits was practically founded in Paris. Ignatius managed so far to satisfy his preceptors as to be allowed to take the degree of bachelor, and eventually of master of arts in the College of Ste. Barbe, but he had yet to perfect himself in theology, a matter by no means so easy as might be supposed. The complicated theology of the Roman Catholic Church, which differs so much from the simplicity of the Gospel, was the great hindrance to the success of the founder of the Jesuits. Ignatius was wise enough to know that he could not expect his disciples to render him the spiritual homage which he required, if he himself was ignorant of the science of which they naturally expected him to be a master.

  But there are few things good or bad which cannot be accomplished by perseverance. Ignatius found the support, which his nascent order sorely needed, from unexpected sources. He was joined by men, who though far his superiors in intellect, and we might add in common sense, were fascinated by his schemes. Pierre le Fevre, known better as Peter Faber, a youth, full of genius and imagination, became one of his disciples, and at this time also he was joined by the future glory of the Order, Francis Xavier, of Navarre. Xavier was then professor at the College of Beauvais and had every reason to expect the highest ecclesiastical advancement, as well from his social position, as from his intellectual attainments. As both Faber and Xavier were held in very high estimation in the Universities of Paris their championship of Ignatius Loyola gave the tone to the Order which it needed, and without which it would probably have failed completely. The story of the conversion of St. Francis Xavier has been variously given, and at the present day it is impossible to decide between conflicting authorities, the fact that Ignatius gained this prize is the only point of importance. Strange mystery of human life. In later times there was no place where the Jesuits were so hotly denounced and so abhorred as in Paris, yet this was the cradle of the Order. Ignatius had now seven disciples, some of whom at least were of immense benefit to the new Order, if indeed his organisation deserved the name. He had no approbation except his own; so far the dignitaries of the Church whom he had approached, had dismissed him with contempt, or imprisoned him for his eccentricities and ignorance. But it seemed as if no opposition could discourage this man of iron will. On the 15th of August, 1534, Ignatius, with his seven followers, met in the crypts of a sanctuary at Montmartre, and took their vows without the permission of priest or prelate. Of the seven who had thrown in their lot with Ignatius, only one was a priest. This was Father Peter Faber. He said mass for the rest, and gave them the mutilated sacrament of the Church of Rome.

  Ignatius, in his character of self-appointed superior, was the first to take the vows, and swore on the Gospels to lead a life of poverty, chastity and obedience. The rest followed his example, and thus was established an Institution, which as we shall see from undisputable evidence, has done more than any other so-called religious order to ruin the peace of families, to check the growth of human progress, and to enslave the souls of men, and yet all this was done in the name of religion. Well might we paraphrase a well known aphorism, and exclaim, Oh religion, what crimes have been committed in thy name.

  Spain having always been under the rule of the priesthood has always been the country of darkness, social and religious. The Spaniard, easily amused with rude pastimes, and supplied by his marvellous climate with all that he needed for food and clothing, concerned himself but little about the rest of the world. Ignatius had not heard of the course of events in Germany, nor of the stupendous religious
movements which had even then begun. To him, with his narrow temperament and his stubborn will, it must have come as a tremendous shock when he learned for the first time, that men existed who were so daring, or as he would have deemed it so blasphemous, as to have condemned the Pope and rejected his authority. But France, always in the advanced guard of information, if not of knowledge, resounded with the clash of opinions, and was fully alive, whatever side individuals might take, as to the tremendous importance of this first serious blow to the spiritual power of the Papacy.