XI. CULTURE…

XI. CULTURE

Colleges--Their Popularity--Revenues--Character of education: Classics; Science; Philosophy; Art--Distinguished Pupils--Poets: Southwell; Balde; Sarbievius; Strada; Von Spee; Gresset; Beschi. --Orators: Vieira; Segneri; Bourdaloue.--Writers: Isla; Ribadeneira; Skarga; Bouhours etc.--Historians--Publications-- Scientists and Explorers--Philosophers--Theologians--Saints.

To obviate the suspicion of any desire of self-glorification in the account of what the Society has achieved in several fields of endeavor especially in that of science, literature and education it will be safer to quote from outside and especially from unfriendly sources. Fortunately plenty of material is at hand for that purpose. Böhmer-Monod, for instance, in "Les Jésuites" are surprisingly generous in enumerating the educational establishments possessed by the Society at one time all over Europe, though their explanation of the phenomenon leaves much to be desired. In 1540, they tell us, "the Order counted only ten regular members, and had no fixed residence. In 1556 it had already twelve provinces, 79 houses, and about 1,000 members. In 1574 the figures went up to seventeen provinces, 125 colleges, 11 novitiates, 35 other establishments of various kinds, and 4,000 members. In 1608 there were thirty-one provinces, 306 colleges, 40 novitiates, 21 professed houses, 65 residences and missions, and 10,640 members. Eight years afterwards, that is a year after the death of its illustrious General Aquaviva, the Society had thirty-two provinces, 372 colleges, 41 novitiates, 123 residences, 13,112 members. Ten years later, namely in 1626, there were thirty-six provinces, 2 vice-provinces, 446 colleges, 37 seminaries, 40 novitiates, 24 professed houses, about 230 missions, and 16,060 members. Finally in 1640 the statistics showed thirty-five provinces, 3 vice-provinces, 521 colleges, 49 seminaries, 54 novitiates, 24 professed houses, about 280 residences and missions and more than 16,000 members."

Before giving these "cold statistics," as they are described, the authors had conducted their readers through the various countries of Europe, where this educational influence was at work. "Italy," we are informed, "was the place in which the Society received its programme and its constitution, and from which it extended its influence abroad. Its success in that country was striking, and if the educated Italians returned to the practices and the Faith of the Church, if it was inspired with zeal for asceticism and the missions, if it set itself to compose devotional poetry and hymns of the Church, and to consecrate to the religious ideal, as if to repair the past, the brushes of its painters and the chisels of its sculptors, is it not the fruit of the education which the cultivated classes received from the Jesuits in the schools and the confessionals? Portugal was the second fatherland of the Society. There it was rapidly acclimated. Indeed, the country fell, at one stroke, into the hands of the Order; whereas Spain had to be won step by step. It met with the opposition of Spanish royalty, the higher clergy, the Dominicans. Charles V distrusted them; Philip II tried to make them a political machine, and some of the principal bishops were dangerous foes, but in the seventeenth century the Society had won over the upper classes and the court, and soon Spain had ninety-eight colleges and seminaries richly endowed, three professed houses, five novitiates, and four residences, although the population of the country at that time was scarcely 5,000,000.

"In France a few Jesuit scholars presented themselves at the university in the year 1540. They were frowned upon by the courts, the clergy, the parliament, and nearly all the learned societies. It was only in 1561, after the famous Colloque de Poissy, that the Society obtained legal recognition and was allowed to teach, and in 1564 it had already ten establishments, among them several colleges. One of the colleges, that of Clermont, became the rival of the University of Paris, and Maldonatus, who taught there, had a thousand pupils following his lectures. In 1610 there were five French provinces with a total of thirty-six colleges, five novitiates, one professed house, one mission, and 1400 members. La Flèche, founded by Henry IV, had 1,200 pupils. In 1640 the Society in France had sixty-five colleges, two academies, two seminaries, nine boarding-schools, seven novitiates, four professed houses, sixteen residences and 2050 members.

"In Germany Canisius founded a boarding school in Vienna, with free board for poor scholars, as early as 1554. In 1555 he opened a great college in Prague; in 1556, two others at Ingolstadt and Cologne respectively, and another at Munich in 1559. They were all founded by laymen, for, with the exception of Cardinal Truchsess of Augsburg, the whole episcopacy was at first antagonistic to the Order. In 1560 they found the Jesuits their best stand-by, and in 1567 the Fathers had thirteen richly endowed schools, seven of which were in university cities. The German College founded by Ignatius in Rome was meantime filling Germany with devoted and learned priests and bishops, and between 1580 and 1590 Protestantism disappeared from Treves, Mayence, Augsburg, Cologne, Paderborn, Münster and Hildesheim. Switzerland gave them Fribourg in 1580, while Louvain had its college twenty years earlier.

"In 1556 eight Fathers and twelve scholastics made their appearance at Ingolstadt in Bavaria. The poison of heresy was immediately ejected, and the old Church took on a new life. The transformation was so prodigious that it would seem rash to attribute it to these few strangers; but their strength was in inverse proportion to their number. They captured the heart and the head of the country, from the court and the local university down to the people; and for centuries they held that position. After Ingolstadt came Dillingen and Würzburg. Munich was founded in 1559, and in 1602 it had 900 pupils. The Jesuits succeeded in converting the court into a convent, and Munich into a German Rome. In 1597 they were entrusted with the superintendence of all the primary schools of the country, and they established new colleges at Altoetting and Mindelheim. In 1621 fifty of them went into the Upper Palatinate, which was entirely Protestant, and in ten years they had established four new colleges.

"In Styria, Carinthia, and Carniola there was scarcely a vestige of the old Church in 1571. In 1573 the Jesuits established a college at Grätz, and the number of communicants in that city rose immediately from 20 to 500. The college was transformed into a university twelve years later, and in 1602 and 1613 new colleges were opened at Klagenfurth and Leoben. In Bohemia and Moravia they had not all the secondary schools, but the twenty colleges and eleven seminaries which they controlled in 1679 proved that at least the higher education and the formation of ecclesiastics was altogether in their hands, and the seven establishments and colleges on the northern frontier overlooking Lutheran Saxony made it evident that they were determined to guard Bohemia against the poison of heresy." The writer complains that they even dared to dislodge "Saint John Huss" from his niche and put in his place St. John Nepomucene, "who was at most a poor victim, and by no means a saint." Böhmer's translator, Monod, adds a note here to inform his readers that the Jesuits invented the legend about St. John Nepomucene, and induced Benedict XIII to canonize him.

Finally, we reach Poland where, we are informed that "the Jesuits enjoyed an incredible popularity. In 1600 the college of Polotsk had 400 students, all of whom were nobles; Vilna had 800, mostly belonging to the Lithuanian nobility, and Kalisch had 500. Fifty years later, all the higher education was in the hands of the Order, and Ignatius became, literally, the preceptor Poloniæ, and Poland the classic land of the royal scholarship of the north, as Portugal was in the south.

"In India, there were nineteen colleges and two seminaries; in Mexico, fourteen colleges and two seminaries; in Brazil, thirteen colleges and two seminaries; in Paraguay, seven colleges," and the authors might have added, there was a college in Quebec, which antedated the famous Puritan establishment of Harvard in New England, and which was erected not "out of the profits of the fur trade," as Renaudot says in the Margry Collection, but out of the inheritance of a Jesuit scholastic.

After furnishing their readers with this splendid list of houses of education, the question is asked: "How can we explain this incredible success of the Order as a teaching body? If we are to believe the sworn enemies of the Jesuits, it is because they taught gratuitously, and thus starved out the legitimate successors of the Humanists. That might explain it somewhat, they say, especially in southern Italy, where the nobleman is always next door to the lazzarone, but it will by no means explain how so many princes and municipalities made such enormous outlays to support those schools; for there were other orders in Catholic countries as rigidly orthodox as the Jesuits. No; the great reason of their success must be attributed to the superiority of their methods. Read the pedagogical directions of Ignatius, the great scholastic ordinances of Aquaviva, and the testimony of contemporaries, and you will recognize the glory of Loyola as an educator. The expansion is truly amazing; from a modest association of students to a world-wide power which ended by becoming as universal as the Church for which it fought; but superior to it in cohesion and rapidity of action--a world power whose influence made itself felt not only throughout Europe, but in the New World, in India, China, Japan; a world power on whose service one sees at work, actuated by the same spirit, representatives of all races and all nations: Italians, Spaniards, Portuguese, French, Germans, English, Poles and Greeks, Arabians, Chinamen and Japanese and even red Indians; a world power which is something such as the world has never seen."

Another explanation is found in the vast wealth which "from the beginning was the most important means employed by the Order." We are assured that the Jesuits have observed on this point such an absolute reserve that it is still impossible to write a history or draw up an inventory of their possessions. But, perhaps it might be answered that if an attempt were also made to penetrate "the absolute reserve" of those who have robbed the Jesuits of all their splendid colleges and libraries and churches and residences which may be seen in every city of Europe and Spanish America, with the I.H.S. of the Society still on their portals, some progress might be made in at least drawing up an inventory of their possessions.

As a matter of fact the Jesuits have laid before the public the inventories of their possessions and those plain and undisguised statements could easily be found if there was any sincere desire to get at the truth. Thus Foley has published in his "Records of the English Province" (Introd., 139) an exact statement of the annual revenues of the various houses for one hundred and twenty years. Dühr in the "Jesuiten-fabeln" (606 sqq.) gives many figures of the same kind for Germany. Indeed the Society has been busy from the beginning trying to lay this financial ghost. Thus a demand for the books was made as early as 1594 by Antoine Arnauld who maintained that the French Jesuits enjoyed an annual revenue of 1,200,000 livres, which in our day would amount to $1,800,000. Possibly some of the reverend Fathers nourished the hope that he might be half right, but an official scrutiny of the accounts revealed the sad fact that their twenty-five colleges and churches with a staff of from 400 to 500 persons could only draw on 60,000 livres; which meant at our values $90,000 a year--a lamentably inadequate capital for the gigantic work which had been undertaken. Arnaulds under different names have been appearing ever since.

How this "vast wealth" is accumulated, might also possibly be learned by a visit to the dwelling-quarters of any Jesuit establishment, so as to see at close range the method of its domestic economy. Every member of the Society, no matter how distinguished he is or may have been, occupies a very small, uncarpeted room whose only furniture is a desk, a bed, a wash-stand, a clothes-press, a prie-dieu, and a couple of chairs. On the whitewashed wall there is probably a cheap print of a pious picture which suggests rather than inspires devotion. This room has to be swept and cared for by the occupant, even when he is advanced in age or has been conspicuous in the Society, "unless for health's sake or for reasons of greater moment he may need help." The clothing each one wears is cheap and sometimes does service for years; there is a common table; no one has any money of his own, and he has to ask even for carfare if he needs it. If he falls sick he is generally sent to an hospital where, according to present arrangements, the sisters nurse him for charity, and he is buried in the cheapest of coffins, and an inexpensive slab is placed over his remains.

Now it happens that this method of living admits of an enormous saving, and it explains how the 17,000 Jesuits who are at present in the Society are able not only to build splendid establishments for outside students, but to support a vast number of young men of the Order who are pursuing their studies of literature, science, philosophy, and theology, and who are consequently bringing in nothing whatever to the Society for a period of eleven years, during which time they are clothed, fed, cared for when sick, given the use of magnificent libraries, scientific apparatus, the help of distinguished professors, travel, and even the luxuries of villas in the mountains or by the sea during the heats of summer. It will, perhaps, be a cause of astonishment to many people to hear that this particular section of the Order, thanks to common life and economic arrangements, could be maintained year after year when conditions were normal at the amazingly small outlay of $300 or $400 a man. Of course, some of the Jesuit houses have been founded, and devoted friends have frequently come to their rescue by generous donations, but it is on record that in the famous royal foundation of La Flèche, established by Henry IV, where one would have expected to find plenty of money, the Fathers who were making a reputation in France by their ability as professors and preachers and scientific men were often compelled to borrow each other's coats to go out in public. Such is the source of Jesuit wealth. "They coin their blood for drachmas."

Failing to explain the Jesuits' pedagogical success by their wealth, it has been suggested that their popularity in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries arose from the fact that it was considered to be "good form" to send one's boys to schools which were frequented by princes and nobles; but that would not explain how they were, relatively, just as much favored in India and Peru as in Germany or France. Indeed there was an intense opposition to them in France, particularly on the part of the great educational centres of the country, the universities: first, because the Jesuits gave their services for nothing, and secondly because the teaching was better, but chiefly, according to Boissier, who cites the authority of three distinguished German pedagogues of the sixteenth century--Baduel, Sturm, and Cordier--"because to the disorder of the university they opposed the discipline of their colleges, and at the end of three or four years of higher studies, regularly graduated classes of upright, well-trained men." (Revue des Deux Mondes, Dec., 1882, pp. 596, 610).

Compayré, who once figured extensively in the field of pedagogical literature, finds this moral control an objection. He says it was making education subsidiary to a "religious propaganda." If this implies that the Society considers that the supreme object of education is to make good Christian men out of their pupils, it accepts the reproach with pleasure; and, there is not a Jesuit in the world who would not walk out of his class to-morrow, if he were told that he had nothing to do with the spiritual formation of those committed to his charge. Assuredly, to ask a young man in all the ardor of his youth to sacrifice every worldly ambition and happiness to devote himself to teaching boys grammar and mathematics, to be with them in their sports, to watch over them in their sleep, to be annoyed by their thoughtlessness and unwillingness to learn; to be, in a word, their servant at every hour of the day and night, for years, is not calculated to inflame the heart with enthusiasm. The Society knows human nature better, and from the beginning, its only object has been to develop a strong Christian spirit in its pupils and to fit them for their various positions in life. It is precisely because of this motive that it has incurred so much hatred, and there can be no doubt that if it relinquished this object in its schools, it would immediately enjoy a perfect peace in every part of the world.

Nor can their educational method be charged with being an insinuating despotism, as Compayré insists, which robs the student of the most precious thing in life, personal liberty; nor, as Herr describes it, "a sweet enthrallment and a deformation of character by an unfelt and continuous pressure" (Revue universitaire, I, 312). "The Jesuit," he says, "teaches his pupils only one thing, namely to obey," which we are told, "is, as M. Aulard profoundly remarks, the same thing as to please" (Enquête sur l'enseignement secondaire, I, 460). In the hands of the Jesuit, Gabriel Hanotaux tells us, the child soon becomes a mechanism, an automaton, apt for many things, well-informed, polite, self-restrained, brilliant, a doctor at fifteen, and a fool ever after. They become excellent children, delightful children, who think well, obey well, recite well, and dance well, but they remain children all their lives. Two centuries of scholars were taught by the Jesuits, and learned the lessons of Jesuits, the morality of the Jesuits, and that explains the decadence of character after the great sixteenth century. If there had not been something in our human nature, a singular resource and things that can not be killed, it was all up with France, where the Order was especially prosperous.

As an offset to this ridiculous charge, the names of a few of "this army of incompetents," these men marked by "decadence of character," might be cited. On the registers of Jesuit schools are the names of Popes, Cardinals, bishops, soldiers, magistrates, statesmen, jurists, philosophers, theologians, poets and saints. Thus we have Popes Gregory XIII, Benedict XIV, Pius VII, Leo XIII, St. Francis of Sales, Cardinal de Bérulle, Bossuet, Belzunce, Cardinal de Fleury, Cardinal Frederico Borromeo, Fléchier, Cassini, Séquier, Montesquieu, Malesherbes, Tasso, Galileo, Corneille, Descartes, Molière, J. B. Rousseau, Goldoni, Tournefort, Fontenelle, Muratori, Buffon, Gresset, Canova, Tilly, Wallenstein, Condé, the Emperors Ferdinand and Maximilian, and many of the princes of Savoy, Nemours and Bavaria. Even the American Revolutionary hero, Baron Steuben, was a pupil of theirs in Prussia, and omitting many others, nearly all the great men of the golden age of French literature received their early training in the schools of the Jesuits.

It is usual when these illustrious names are referred to, for someone to say: "Yes, but you educated Voltaire." The implied reproach is quite unwarranted, for although François Arouet, later known as Voltaire, was a pupil at Louis-le-Grand, his teachers were not at all responsible for the attitude of mind which afterwards made him so famous or infamous. That was the result of his home training from his earliest infancy. In the first place, his mother was the intimate friend of the shameless and scoffing courtesan of the period, Ninon de l'Enclos, and his god-father was Chateauneuf, one of the dissolute abbés of those days, whose only claim to their ecclesiastical title was that, thanks to their family connections, they were able to live on the revenues of some ecclesiastical establishment. This disreputable god-father had the additional distinction of being one of Ninoñ's numerous lovers. It was he who had his fileul named in her will, and he deliberately and systematically taught him to scoff at religion, long before the unfortunate child entered the portals of Louis-le-Grand. Indeed, Voltaire's mockery of the miracles of the Bible was nothing but a reminiscence of the poem known as the "Moïsade" which had been put in his hands by Chateauneuf and which he knew by heart. The wonder is that the Jesuits kept the poor boy decent at all while he was under their tutelage. Immorality and unbelief were in his home training and blood.

Another objection frequently urged is that the Jesuits were really incapable of teaching Latin, Greek, mathematics or philosophy, and that in the last mentioned study they remorselessly crushed all originality.

To prove the charge about Latin, Gazier, a doctor of the Sorbonne, exhibited a "Conversation latine, par Mathurin Codier, Jésuite." Unfortunately for the accuser, however, it was found out that Codier not only was not a Jesuit, but was one of the first Calvinists of France. Greek was taught in the lowest classes; and in the earliest days the Society had eminent Hellenists who attracted the attention of the learned world, such as: Gretser, Viger, Jouvancy, Rapin, Brumoy, Grou, Fronton du Duc, Pétau, Sirmond, Garnier and Labbe. The last mentioned was the author of eighty works and his "Tirocinium linguæ græcæ" went through thirteen or fourteen editions. At Louis-le-Grand there were verses and discourses in Greek at the closing of the academic year. Bernis says he used to dream in Greek. There were thirty-two editions of Gretser's "Rudimenta linguæ græcæ," and seventy-five of his "Institutiones." Huot, when very young, began a work on Origen, and Bossuet, when still at college, became an excellent Greek scholar. They were both Jesuit students.

"The Jesuits were also responsible for the collapse of scientific studies," says Compayré (193,197). The answer to this calumny is easily found in the "Monumenta pedagogica Societatis Jesu" (71-78), which insists that "First of all, teachers of mathematics should be chosen who are beyond the ordinary, and who are known for their erudition and authority." This whole passage in the "Monumenta," was written by the celebrated Clavius. Surely it would be difficult to get a man who knew more about mathematics than Clavius. It will be sufficient to quote the words of Lalande, one of the greatest astronomers of France, who, it may be noted incidentally, was a pupil of the Jesuits. In 1800 he wrote as follows: "Among the most absurd calumnies which the rage of Protestants and Jansenists exhale against the Jesuits, I found that of La Chalotais, who carried his ignorance and blindness to such a point as to say that the Jesuits had never produced any mathematicians. I happened to be just then writing my book on 'Astronomy,' and I had concluded my article on 'Jesuit Astronomers,' whose numbers astonished me. I took occasion to see La Chalotais, at Saintes, on July 20, 1773, and reproached him with his injustice, and he admitted it."

"As for history," says Compayré, "it was expressly enjoined by the 'Ratio' that its teaching should be superficial." And his assertion, because of his assumed authority, is generally accepted as true, especially as he adduces the very text of the injunction which says: "Historicus celerius excurrendus," namely "let historians be run through more rapidly." Unfortunately, however, the direction did not apply to the study of history at all, but to the study of Latin, and meant that authors like Livy, Tacitus, and Cæsar were to be gone through more expeditiously than the works of Cicero, for example, who was to be studied chiefly for his exquisite style. In brief, the charge has no other basis than a misreading, intentional or otherwise, of a school regulation.

The same kind of tactics are employed to prove that no philosophy was taught in those colleges, in spite of the fact that it was a common thing for princes and nobles and statesmen to come not only to listen to philosophical disputations in the colleges, in which they themselves had been trained, but to take part in them. That was one of Condé's pleasures; and the Intendant of Canada, the illustrious Talon, was fond of urging his syllogisms against the defenders in the philosophical tournaments of the little college of Quebec. Nor were those pupils merely made to commit to memory the farrago of nonsense which every foolish philosopher of every age and country had uttered, as is now the method followed in non-Catholic colleges. The Jesuit student is compelled not only to state but to prove his thesis, to refute objections against it, to retort on his opponents, to uncover sophisms and so on. In brief, philosophy for him is not a matter of memory but of intelligence. As for independence of thought, a glance at their history will show that perhaps no religious teachers have been so frequently cited before the Inquisition on that score, and none to whom so many theological and philosophical errors have been imputed by their enemies, but whose orthodoxy is their glory and consolation.

Their failure to produce anything in the way of painting or sculpture has also afforded infinite amusement to the critics, although it is like a charge against an Academy of Medicine for not having produced any eminent lawyers, or vice versa. It is true that Brother Seghers had something to do with his friend Rubens, and that a Spanish coadjutor was a sculptor of distinction, and that a third knew something about decorating churches, and that two were painters in ordinary for the Emperor of China, but whose masterpieces however have happily not been preserved. Hüber, an unfriendly author, writing about the Jesuits, names Courtois, known as Borgognone, by the Italians, who was a friend of Guido Reni; Dandini, Latri, Valeriani d'Aquila and Castiglione, none of whom, however, has ever been heard of by the average Jesuit. An eminent scholar once suggested that possibly the elaborate churches of the Compañía, which are found everywhere in the Spanish-American possessions, may have been the work of the lay-brothers of the Society. But a careful search in the menologies of the Spanish assistancy has failed to reveal that such was the case. That, however, may be a piece of good fortune, for otherwise the Society might have to bear the responsibility of those overwrought constructions, in addition to the burden which is on it already of having perpetrated what is known as the "Jesuit Style" of architecture. From the latter accusation, however, a distinguished curator of the great New York Metropolitan Museum of Art, Sir Caspar Purdon Clarke, in an address to an assembly of artists and architects, completely exonerated the Society. "The Jesuit Style," he said, "was in existence before their time, and," he was good enough to add, "being gentlemen, they did not debase it, but on the contrary elevated and ennobled it and made it worthy of artistic consideration."

So, too, the Order has not been conspicuous for its poets. One of them, however, Robert Southwell, was a martyr, and wore a crown that was prized far more by his brethren than the laurels of a bard. He was born at Norfolk on February 21, 1561, and entered the Society at Rome in 1578. Singularly enough, the first verses that bubbled up from his heart, at least of those that are known, were evoked by his grief at not being admitted to the novitiate. He was too young to be received, for he was only seventeen, and conditions in England did not allow it; but his merit as a poet may be inferred from an expression of Ben Jonson that he would have given many of his works to have written Southwell's "Burning Babe," and, according to the "Cambridge History of Literature" (IV, 129), "though Southwell may never have read Shakespeare, it is certain that Shakespeare read Southwell." Of course, his poems are not numerous, for though he may have meditated on the Muse while he was hiding in out of the way places during the persecutions, he was scarcely in a mood to do so when he was flung into a filthy dungeon, or when he was stretched on the rack thirteen different times as a prelude to being hanged, drawn and quartered at Tyburn.

Eleven years after that tragedy, Jacob Balde was born in the imperial free town of Ensisheim in Alsace. He studied the classics and rhetoric in the Jesuit college of that place, and philosophy and law at Ingolstadt, where he became a Jesuit on July 1, 1624. To amuse himself, when professor of rhetoric, he wrote his mock-heroic of the battle of the frogs and mice, "Batrachomyomachia." His mastery of classical Latin and the consummate ease with which he handled the ancient verse made him the wonder of the day. "His patriotic accents," says Herder, "made him a German poet for all time." The tragedies of the Thirty Years War urged him to strive to awaken the old national spirit in the hearts of the people. He was chiefly a lyrist, and was hailed as the German Horace, but he was at home in epic, drama, elegy, pastoral poetry and satire. Of course, he wrote in Latin, which was the language of the cultured classes, for German was then too crude and unwieldy to be employed as a vehicle for poetry. His works fill eight volumes.

No less a personage than Isaac Watts, the English hymnologist, makes Mathias Sarbiewski (Sarbievius), the Pole, another Horace, though his poetry was mostly Pindaric. Grotius puts him above Horace (Brucker, 505). He was a court preacher, a companion of the king in his travels, a musician and an artist. He wrote four books of lyrics, a volume of epodes, another of epigrams, and there is a posthumous work of his called "Silviludia." His muse was both religious and patriotic, and because of the former, he was called by the Pope to help in the revision of the hymns of the Breviary; and for that work he was crowned by King Wladislaw. His prose works run into eight volumes. There are twenty-two translations of his poems in Polish, and there are others in German, Italian, Flemish, Bohemian, English and French.

Gosse in his "Seventeenth Century Studies" says that Famian Strada who wrote "The Nightingale" was not professedly a poet but a lecturer on rhetoric. "The Nightingale" was first published in Rome in 1617 in a volume of "Prolusiones" on rhetoric and poetry, and occurs in the sixth lecture of the second course. "This Jesuit Rhetorician," Gosse informs us, "had been trying to familiarize his pupils with the style of the great Classic poets, by reciting to them passages in imitation of Ovid, Lucretius, Lucian and others. 'This,' he told them 'is an imitation of the style of Claudian,' and so he gives us the lines which have become so famous. That a single fragment in a schoolbook should so suddenly take root and blossom in European literature, when all else that its voluminous author wrote and said was promptly forgotten, is very curious but not unprecedented." In England, the first to adopt the poem was John Ford in his play of "The Lover's Melancholy" in 1629; Crashaw came next with his "Music's Duel," Ambrose Philips essayed it a century later; and in our own days, François Coppée introduced it with charming effect in his "Luthier de Crémone."

The French Jesuit Sautel was a contemporary of Strada and Balde. He was considered the Ovid of his time, and was as remarkable for the holiness of his life as for his unusual poetical ability.

About this time, there was a German Jesuit, named Jacob Masen or Masenius, who was a professor of rhetoric in Cologne, and died in 1681. Among his manuscripts found after his death were three volumes, the first of which was a treatise on general literature, the second a collection of lyrics, epics, elegies etc., and the third a number of dramas. In the second manuscript was an epic entitled "Sarcotis." The world would never have known anything about "Sarcotis" had not a Scotchman, named Lauder, succeeded in finding it, somewhere, about 1753, i. e. seventy-two years after Masen's death. He ran it through the press immediately, to prove that Milton had copied it in his "Paradise Lost." Whereupon all England rose in its wrath to defend its idol. Lauder was convicted of having intercalated in the "Sarcotis," a Latin translation of some of the lines of "Paradise Lost," and had to hide himself in some foreign land to expiate his crime against the national infatuation. Four years later (1757), Abbé Denouart published a translation of the genuine text of "Sarcotis." The poem was found to be an excellent piece of work, and like "Paradise Lost," its theme was the disobedience of Adam and Eve, their expulsion from Paradise, the disasters consequent upon this sin of pride. Whether Milton ever read "Sarcotis" is not stated.

Frederick von Spee is another Jesuit poet. He was born at Kaiserwerth on the Rhine on February 25, 1591, entered the Society in 1610, and studied, taught and preached for many years like the rest of his brethren. An attempt to assassinate him was made in 1629. He was in Treves, when it was stormed by the imperial forces in 1635, witnessed all its horrors, and died from an infection which he caught while nursing the sick and wounded soldiers in the hospital. It was only in the stormy period of his life that he wrote in verse. Two of his works, the "Goldenes Tugendbuch," and the "Trutznachtigal" were published after his death. The former was highly prized by Leibniz as a book of devotion. The latter, which has in recent times been repeatedly reprinted and revised, occupies a conspicuous place among the lyrical collection of the seventeenth century. His principal work, however, the one, in fact, which gave him a world-wide reputation, (a result he was not aiming at, for the book was probably published without his consent), is the "Cautio Criminalis," which virtually ended the witchcraft trials. It is written in exquisite Latin, and describes with thrilling vividness and cutting sarcasm the horrible abuses in the prevailing legal proceedings, particularly the use of the rack. The moral impression produced by the work soon put a stop to the atrocities in many places, though many a generation had to pass before witch-burning ceased in Germany.

Perhaps it may be worth while to mention the wonderful Beschi, a missionary in Madura, whose Tamil poetry ordinary mortals will never have the pleasure of enjoying. Besides writing Tamil grammars and dictionaries, as well as doctrinal works for his converts, not to speak of his books of controversy against the Danish Lutherans who attempted to invade the missions, he wrote a poem of eleven hundred stanzas in honor of St. Quiteria, and another known as the "Unfading Garland," which is said to be a Tamil classic. It is divided into thirty-six cantos, containing in all 3615 stanzas. Baumgartner calls it an epic which for richness and beauty of language, for easy elegance of metre, true poetical conception and execution, is the peer of the native classics, while in nobility of thought and subject matter it is superior to them as the harmonious civilization of Christianity is above the confused philosophical dreams and ridiculous fables of idolatry. It is in honor of St. Joseph. His satire known as "The Adventures of Guru Paramarta" is the most entertaining book of Tamil literature. Beschi himself translated it into Latin; it has also appeared in English, French, German and Italian.

These are about the only poets of very great prominence the Society can boast of; but though she rejoices in the honor they won, she regards their song only as an accidental attraction in the lives of those distinguished children of hers. What she cherishes most is the piety of Sarbiewski and Balde, the martyrdom of charity gladly accepted by von Spee, the missionary ardor of Beschi, and the blood offering made by Southwell to restore the Faith to his unhappy country.

Apart from these, Gresset also may be claimed as a Jesuit poet, but unfortunately it was his poetry that blasted his career as an apostle, for the epicureanism of one of his effusions compelled his dismissal from the Society. His brilliant talents counted for nothing in such a juncture. He left the Order with bitter regret on his part, but never lost his affection for it, and never failed to defend it against its calumniators. His "Adieux aux Jésuites" is a classic. In vain Voltaire and Frederick the Great invited him to Potsdam. He loathed them both, and withdrew to Amiens, where he spent the last eighteen years of his life in seclusion, prayer and penance, never leaving the place except twice in all that time. On both occasions it was to go to the French Academy, of which his great literary ability had made him a member. In 1750 he founded at Amiens the Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters which still exists. It is said that before he died he burned all his manuscripts, and one cannot help regretting that instead of publishing he had not committed to the flames the poem that caused his withdrawal from the Society. For Gresset the Jesuits have always had a great tenderness, and it might be added here that he is a fair sample of most of those who, for one reason or another, have severed their connection with the Society. There have been only a few instances to the contrary, and even they repented before they died.

In the matter of oratory, the Society has had some respectable representatives as for example, that extraordinary genius, Vieira, the man whose stormy eloquence put an end to the slavery of the Indians in Brazil, and whose "Discourse for the success of the Portuguese arms," pronounced when the Dutch were besieging Bahia in 1640, was described by the sceptical Raynal to be "the most extraordinary outburst of Christian eloquence." He is considered to have been one of the world's masters of oratory of his time, and to have been equally great in the cathedrals of Europe and the rude shrines of the Maranhão. He was popular, practical, profoundly original and frequently sublime. He has left fifteen volumes of sermons alone. Though brought up in Brazil he is regarded as a Portuguese classic.

Paolo Segneri, who died in 1694, is credited with being, after St. Bernardine of Siena and Savonarola, Italy's greatest orator. For twenty-seven years he preached all through the Peninsula. His eloquence was surpassed only by his holiness, and to the ardor of an apostle he added the austerities of a penitent. He has been translated into many languages, even into Arabic.

Omitting many others, for we are mentioning only the supereminently great, there is a Bourdaloue, who is entitled by even the enemies of the Society the prédicateur des rois et le roi des prédicateurs (the preacher of kings and the king of preachers.) For thirty-four years he preached to the most exacting audience in the world, the brilliant throngs that gathered around Louis XIV, and till the end, it was almost impossible to approach the church when he was to occupy the pulpit. Lackeys were on guard days before the sermon. The "Edinburgh Review" of December, 1826, says of him: "Between Massillon and Bossuet, at a great distance certainly above the latter, stands Bourdaloue, and in the vigor and energy of his reasoning he was undeniably, after the ancients, Massillon's model. If he is more harsh, and addressed himself less to the feelings and passions, it is certain that he displays a fertility of resources and an exuberance of topics, either for observation or argument, which are not equalled by any orator, sacred or profane. It is this fertility, this birthmark of genius, that makes us certain of finding in every subject handled by him, something new, something which neither his predecessors have anticipated nor his followers have imitated."

To this Protestant testimony may be added that of the Jansenist Sainte-Beuve in his "Causeries du Lundi." His estimate of Bourdaloue is as follows: "I know all that can be said and that is said about Bossuet. But let us not exaggerate. Bossuet was sublime in his 'Funeral Orations', but he had not the same excellence in his sermons. He was uneven and unfinished. In that respect, even while Bossuet was still living, Bourdaloue was his master. That was the opinion of their contemporaries, and doubtless of Bossuet himself. Unlike Bossuet, Bourdaloue did not hold the thunders in his hand, nor did the lightnings flash around his pulpit, nor, like Massillon, did he pour out perfumes from his urn. But he was the orator, such as he alone could have been, who for thirty-four years in succession could preach and be useful. He did not spend himself all at once, did not gain lustre by a few achievements, nor startle by some of those splendid utterances which carry men away and evoke their plaudits; but he lasted; he built up with perfect surety; he kept on incessantly, and his power was like an army whose work is not merely to gain one or two battles, but to establish itself in the heart of the enemy's country and stay there. That is the wonderful achievement of the man whom his contemporaries called 'The Great Bourdaloue', and whom people obstinately persist in describing as 'the judicious and estimable Bourdaloue.'

"He had what was called the imperatoria virtus, that sovereign quality of a general who rules every alignment and every step of his soldiers, so that nothing moves them but his command. Such is the impression conveyed by the structure of his discourses; by their dialectical form, by their solid demonstrations, which move forward from the start, first by pushing ahead the advance corps, then dividing his battalions into two or three groups, and finally establishing a line of battle facing the consciences of his hearers. On one occasion, when he was about to preach at St. Sulpice there was a noise in the church because of the crowd, when above the tumult the voice of Condé was heard, shouting, as Bourdaloue entered the pulpit: 'Silence! Behold the enemy!'"

We may subjoin to these two appreciations the judgment of the Abbé Maury, himself a great orator. He is cited by Sainte-Beuve: "Bourdaloue is more equal and restrained than Bossuet in the beauty and incomparable richness of his designs and plans, which seem like unique conceptions in the art and control of a discourse wherein he is without a rival; in his dialectic power, in his didactic and steady progress, in his ever increasing strength, in his exact and serried logic, and in the sustained eloquence of his ratiocination, in the solidity and opulence of his doctrinal preaching he is inexhaustible and unapproachable." Sainte-Beuve adds to this eulogy: "Bourdaloue's life and example proclaim with a still louder emphasis, that to be eloquent to the end, to be so, both far and near, to wield authority and to compel attention, whether on great or startling, simple or useful themes, you must have what is the principle and source of it all, the virtue of Bourdaloue."

With the exception of Padre Isla, the satirist, and Baltasar Gracián, author of "Worldly Wisdom" and of "El Criticón," which seems to have suggested Robinson Crusoe to Defoe, the Society has not produced any very remarkable prose writer in the lighter kind of literature, and perhaps even their style in other kinds of writing may have suffered because of the intensity and rapidity with which they were compelled to work. Nevertheless some of them are said to be classics in their respective languages as, for instance, Vieira in Portuguese, Ribadeneira in Spanish, and Skarga in Polish. The Frenchman, Dominique Bouhours, is perhaps the one who is most remarkable in this respect. Petit de Julleville in his "Histoire de la langue et de la littérature française" says that "Bouhours was incontestably the master of correct writing in his generation. The statutes of the Jesuits prevented him from being an Academician, but he 'was something better,' as someone said when the Father was striving to evade him: 'Academiam tu mihi solus facis--For me you constitute the Academy.' Not only in his Order was he considered the official censor, under whose eyes all sorts of writings had to pass, even those of Maimbourg and Bourdaloue, but people came from all parts of the literary world to consult him. Saint-Evremond and Bossuet were only too glad to be guided by him. The President Lamoigno submitted to him his official pronouncements, and Racine sent his poems with the request to 'mark the faults that might have been made in the language of which you are one of the most excellent judges.' In the history of the French language Bouhours left no date--he made an epoch."

The Jesuits were also literary arbiters in countries and surroundings where there was no Bouhours. Thus the Society had four or five hundred grammarians and lexicographers of the languages of almost every race under the sun. Wherever the missionaries went, their first care was to compile a dictionary and make a grammar of the speech of the natives among whom they were laboring, and if the learned world at present knows anything at all of the language of vast numbers of aboriginal tribes who have now vanished from the earth, it is due to the labors of the Jesuit missionaries.

But this was only an infinitesimal part of their literary output. In his "Bibliothèque des écrivains de la compagnie de Jésus," which is itself a stupendous literary achievement, Sommervogel has already drawn up a list of 120,000 Jesuit authors and he has restricted himself to those who have ceased from their labors on earth and are now only busy in reading the book of life. Nor do these 120,000 authors merely connote 120,000 books; for some of these writers were most prolific in their publications. The illustrious Gretser, for instance, "the Hammer of Heretics," as he was called, is credited with two hundred and twenty-nine titles of printed works and thirty-nine MSS. which range over the whole field of erudition open to his times: archæology, numismatics, theology, philology, polemics, liturgy, and so on. Kircher, who died in 1680, wrote about everything. During the time he sojourned in Rome, he issued forty-four folio volumes on subjects that are bewildering in their diversity and originality: hieroglyphics, astronomy, astrology, medico-physics, linguistics, ethnology, horoscopy, and what not else besides. We owe to him the earliest counting-machine, and it was he who perfected the Aeolian harp, the speaking tube, and the microscope.

We have chosen these great men merely as examples of the literary activity of the Society during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Indeed, this inundation of books grew so alarming in its proportions that the enemies of the Church complained that it was a plot of the Jesuits who, being unable to suppress other books, had determined to deluge the world with their own publications.

In the domain of church history they have, it is true, nothing to compare, in size, with the thirty volumes of the Dominican Natalis Alexander; the thirty-six of Fleury; or the twenty-eight of the "España Sagrada" of the Augustinian Flórez, which, under his continuator, Risco, reached forty volumes. Bérault-Bercastel, indeed, wrote twenty-eight, but it was after the Society was suppressed. Perhaps they refrained from entering that field because they regarded it to be sufficiently covered, or because, in order to devote one's self to historical work, one needs leisure, great libraries, and security of possession. Their absorbing pedagogical and missionary work left leisure to but a few Jesuits in those stirring times, and they were besides being continually despoiled of the great libraries they had gathered, and never sure of having a roof over their heads the day after a work might be begun. Seizures and expulsions form a continual series in the Society's history. On the other hand, they were making history by their explorations, and the letters they sent from all parts of the world which according to rule they were compelled to write, furnish to-day and for all time, the most invaluable historical data for every part of the globe. As a matter of fact, they had not even time to write an account of their own Order. Cordara, Orlandini, Jouvancy, and Sacchini cover only limited periods, and as has been remarked above, it was not until Father Martín ordered a complete series of histories of the various sections of the Society that the work was undertaken. This is planned on a much vaster scale than the older writers ever dreamt of, and some of the volumes have already been published.

In profane history, however, the versatile Famian Strada distinguished himself in 1632 by his "Wars of Flanders," and the work was continued by two of his religious brethren, Dondini and Gallucio. Clavigero's "Ancient History of Mexico," in three quarto volumes, published after the Suppression, is a notable work, as are also his "History of California," and a third on the "Spanish Conquest." Alegre's three volumes, "History of the Society of Jesus in New Spain" is of great value. Mariana's complete "History of Spain," in twenty-five books, is still recognized as an authority, and it will be of interest to know that as late as 1888 a statue was erected at Talavera, in honor of the same tumultuous writer, who was incarcerated for his book on "Finance." Charlevoix's voluminous histories of New France, of Japan, of Paraguay, and of Santo Domingo are also worthy of consideration. Bancroft frequently refers to him as a valuable historian, and John Gilmary Shea insists that he is too generally esteemed to need commendation.

There is, however, an historical work of the Society which has no peer in literature: the great hagiological collection known as the "Acta Sanctorum" of the Bollandists, which was begun in the first years of the seventeenth century, and is still being elaborated. It consists at present of sixty-four folio volumes. This vast enterprise was conceived by the Belgian Father Rosweyde, but is known as the work of the Bollandists, from the name of Rosweyde's immediate successor, Bollandus. When the first volume, which was very diminutive when compared with the present massive tomes, was sent to Cardinal Bellarmine, he exclaimed: "this man wants to live three hundred years." He regarded the plan as chimerical, but it has been realized by a self-perpetuating association of Jesuits living at Brussels. When one member is worn out or dies, someone else is appointed to fill the gap, and so the work goes on uninterruptedly. The two first volumes, containing pages, which appeared in 1643, aroused the enthusiasm of the scientific world, and Pope Alexander VII publicly testified that "there had never been undertaken a work more glorious or more useful to the Church."

In other fields of work the Society has not been idle. Even the acrid "Realencyclopädie fur protestantische Theologie und Kirche" says (VIII, 758), "the Order has not lacked scholars. It can point to a long series of brilliant names among its members, but they have only given real aid to the advancement of science in those spheres which have close connection with the doctrines of the Church, such as mathematics, the natural sciences, chronology, explanation of classical writers and inscriptions. The service of Jesuit astronomers like Christopher Schlüssel (Clavius), the corrector of the calendar; Christopher Schreiner, the discoverer of the sun spots; Francesco Da Vico, the discoverer of a comet and observer of the transit of Venus; Angelo Secchi, the investigator of the sun, and a meteorologist, are universally acknowledged. And no less credit is given to the services of the Order afforded by the optician Grimaldi; and that much praised all-round scholar and universal genius (Doctor centum artium) Athanasius Kircher. Among the classical writers is Angelo Mai."

This is certainly not a bad list from an unfriendly source, and possibly might be helped out by a few suggestions. Thus Otto Hartig, the Assistant Librarian of the Royal Library of Munich, tells us in "The Catholic Encyclopedia" that Ritter very justly traces the source and beginning of modern geography to the "Acta Sanctorum" of the Jesuit Bollandists, who gathered up the crude notes of the journeys of the early missionaries with their valuable information about the customs, language and religion of the inhabitants on the frontiers of the Roman Empire, along the Rhine and Danube, of the British Isles, Russia, Poland, the Faröe Islands, Iceland and the Far East. Another signal contribution to geography was the "Historia natural y moral de las Indias" of José d'Acosta, one of the most brilliant writers on the natural history of the New World and the customs of the Indians. The first thorough exploration of Brazil was made by Jesuit missionaries led by Father Ferre (1599-1632). The Portuguese priests, Alvares and Bermudes, who went to Abyssinia on an embassy to the king of that country, were followed by the Jesuits. Fernandes crossed southern Abyssinia in 1613, and set foot in regions which until recently were closed to Europeans. Páez and Lobo were the first to reach the sources of the Blue Nile, and as early as the middle of the seventeenth century, they with Almeida, Menendes and Teles drew up a map of Abyssinia which is considered the best produced before the time of Abbadie (1810-97). The Jesuit missionaries, Machado, Affonso and Paiva, in 1630 endeavored to establish communications between Abyssinia and the Congo; Ricci and Schall, both of whom were learned astronomers, made a cartographic survey of China. Ricci is commonly known as the Geographer of China, and is compared to Marco Polo. Andrada was the first to enter Tibet, a feat which was not repeated until our own times. The Jesuits of Canada, among whom was Marquette, were the first to furnish the learned world with information about upper North America; Mexico and California as far as the Rio Grande, were travelled by Kino (1644-1711), Sedlmayer (1703-79) and Baegert (1717-77); and the Jesuit, Wolfgang Beyer, reached Lake Titicaca between 1752 and 1766--eighty years before the celebrated globe-navigator Meyer arrived there. Ramion sailed up the Cassiquiare, from the Río Negro to the Orinoco in 1744, and thus anticipated La Condamine, Humboldt, and Bonpland. Samuel Fritz in 1684 established the importance of the Maranhão as the main tributary of the Amazon, and drew the first map of the country. Techo (1673), Harques (1687), and Durán (1638) told the world all about Paraguay, and d'Ovaglia (1646) about Chile. Gruber and d'Orville reached Lhasa from Pekin, and went down into India through the Himalaya passes.

Possibly it is worth while here to give more than a passing notice to the ascent of the Nile in the seventeenth century, made by the noted Pedro Páez, a Spanish Jesuit. He left an account of it which Kircher published in his "OEdipus Ægyptiacus" but which James Bruce angrily described as an invention. Bruce claims that he himself was the first to explore the river. But Bruce followed Páez by at least 150 years. The question is discussed at length by two writers in the "Biographie universelle," under the titles "Bruce" and "Paez."

Páez was born at Olmeda in 1564. He entered the Society when he was eighteen years of age and was sent to Goa in 1588. He was assigned to attempt an entry of Abyssinia; to facilitate his work, he assumed the dress of an Armenian. He had to wait a year for a ship at Ormuz, and when, at last, he embarked he was captured by an Arab pirate, ill-treated and thrown into prison. As he was unable to procure a ransom, he spent seven years chained to the oar as a galley slave, but was finally set free and reached Goa in 1596. He was then employed in several missions of Hindostan, but again set out for Abyssinia which he reached in 1603. To acquaint himself with the language of the people he buried himself in a monastery of Monophysite monks, and then began to give public lessons in the city. His success as a teacher attracted attention, and he was finally called before the emperor, where his eloquence and correctness of speech captivated and ultimately helped to convert the monarch. A grant of land was given him at Gorgora where he built a church. The question of the sources of the Nile was frequently discussed, and in 1618 Páez ascended the river. He was thus the first modern European to make the attempt. He told the story in the two large octavos, which at the time of the Suppression could be found in most of the libraries of the Society. Bruce asserts, however, that nothing is said in these volumes about the discovery, and he accuses Kircher of imposture. But, says the writer in the "Biographie universelle," the fact is that between the account of Páez and that of Bruce there is scarcely any difference except in a few insignificant details; so that if Bruce is right, so also are Páez and Kircher. Páez explored the river as early as 1618, whereas Bruce arrived there only in 1772, that is 154 years later. "Bruce," says another writer "makes it clear that someone had preceded him and displays his temper in every line."

The great English work, "The Dictionary of National Biography," handles Bruce more severely. "He was in error," it says, "in regarding himself as the first European who had reached these fountains. Pedro Páez, the Jesuit, had undoubtedly done so in 1615, and Bruce's unhandsome attempt to throw doubt on the fact only proves that love of fame is not literally the last infirmity of noble minds, but may bring much more unlovely symptoms in its train. He was endowed with excellent abilities, but was swayed to an undue degree by self-esteem and thirst for fame. He was uncandid to those he regarded as rivals, and vanity and the passion for the picturesque led him to embellish minor particulars and perhaps in some instances to invent them. He delayed for twelve years the composition of his narrative and then dictated it to an amanuensis, indolently omitting to refer to the original journals and hence frequently making a lamentable confusion of facts and dates. His report is highly idealised and he will always be the poet of African travel." The book did not appear till 1790. The missionary success of Páez consisted in uniting schismatical Abyssinia to Rome in 1624. He died shortly afterwards, and, when the depraved Emperor Basilides mounted the throne in 1634, the Jesuit missionaries were handed over to the axe of the executioner. Páez, it may be remarked, was not the only one whom Bruce vilified. After Páez came the Portuguese Jesuit Jeronimo Lobo, a very interesting and lengthy account of whose daring missionary work may be found in the "Biographie universelle." The writer tells us that Lobo published his narrative in 1659, and that it was again edited by the Royal Society of London in 1688. Legrand translated it into French in 1728, and Dr. Samuel Johnson gave a compendious translation of it in 1734. The complete book was reprinted in 1798, and in the preface the editors take Bruce to task for his treatment of both Páez and Lobo. It is worthy of remark that the notice of "Bruce" in the "Encyclopedia Britannica" (ninth edition) does not say a single word either of Páez or Lobo, although both had attracted so much notice in the modern literary world.

It was due to the Jesuits that France established subventions for geographical research. In 1651 Martino Martini, kinsman of the celebrated Eusebio Kino, published his "Atlas Sinensis", which Richtoven described as "the fullest geographical description of China that we have." Kircher published his famous "China illustrata" in 1667. Verbiest was the imperial astronomer in China, and so aroused the interest of Louis XIV that he sent out six Jesuit astronomers at his own expense and equipped them with the finest instruments. One of these envoys, Gerbillon, explored the unknown regions north of China, and he, with Buvet, Régis and Jarton and others, made a survey of the Great Wall, and then mapped out the whole Chinese empire (1718). Manchuria and Mongolia as far as the Russian frontier and Tibet to the sources of the Ganges were included. The map ranks as a masterpiece even to-day. It consists of 120 sheets, and it has formed the basis of all the native maps made since then. De Halde edited all the reports sent to him by his brethren, and published them in his "Description géographique, historique, politique, physique et chronologique de l'empire de Chine et de la Tartarie chinoise." The material for the maps in this work was prepared by d'Anville, the greatest geographer of the time, but he was not a Jesuit. In addition to these works, were written fifteen volumes by the missionaries of Pekin about the history and customs of the Chinese, and published in Paris.

These Jesuit astronomers and geographers were associate members of all the learned societies of Europe, and were especially serviceable to those bodies in being able to determine the longitude and latitude of the places they described. Between 1684 and 1686 they fixed the exact position of the Cape of Good Hope and of Louveau in Siam. As early as 1645 Riccioli attempted to determine the length of a degree of longitude. Similar work was done by Thoma in China, Boscovitch and Maire in the Papal States, Leisganig in Austria; Mayer in the Palatinate, and Beccaria and Canonica in northwestern Italy. Veda published the first map of the Philippines about 1734. Mezburg and Guessman made maps of Galicia and Poland, Andrian of Carinthia, and Christian Meyer of the Rhine from Basle to Mainz. Riccioli, a distinguished reformer of cartography, published his "Almagestum novum", and his "Geographia et hydrographia reformata" as early as 1661. Kircher gave the world his "Arsmagnetica" and "Mundus subterraneus" about the same time, and made the ascent of Etna and Stromboli at the risk of his life, to measure their craters. His theory of the interior of the earth was accepted by Leibniz and by the entire Neptunist school of geology. He was the first to attempt to chart the ocean currents. Heinrich Scherer of Dillingen (1620-1704) devoted his whole life to geography, and made the first orographical and hydrographical synoptic charts. Johann Jacob Hemmer was the founder of the first meteorological society, which had contributors from all over the world. This list is sufficiently glorious.

Perhaps it might be noted here that these eminent men were not primarily seeking distinction or aiming at success in the sciences to which they devoted themselves. That consideration occupied only a secondary place in their thoughts and the glory they achieved was sought exclusively to enable them the more easily to reach the souls of men. But on the other hand, that motive inspired them with greater zeal in the prosecution of their work than a merely human purpose would have done. Assuredly, it would have been much more comfortable for Ricci and Schall and Verbiest and Grimaldi to be looking through telescopes in the observatories of Europe than at Canton or Pekin, where every moment they were in danger of having their heads cut off. As a matter of fact, after more than forty years of service for China's education in mathematics and astronomy, the only reward that Father Schall reaped was, as we have seen, to be dragged to court, though he was paralyzed and speechless, and to be condemned to be hacked to pieces.

It is quite true that the philosophers of the Society have never evolved any independent philosophical or theological thought, in the modern acceptation of that term. That is, they have never acted like the captain of a ship who would throw his charts and compass overboard, and insist that North is South because he thinks it so. The aim of philosophy is intellectual truth and not the extravagances of a disordered imagination. Contrary to the modern superstition, Catholic philosophers are not hampered in their speculations by authority, nor are they compelled in their study of logic, metaphysics and ethics to draw proofs from revelation. Philosophy is a human not a divine science, but on the other hand, Catholic philosophy is prevented from going over the abyss by the possession of a higher knowledge than unassisted human reason could ever attain. Thus protected, it speculates with an audacity, of which those who are not so provided can have no conception. For them philosophy runs through the whole theological course, and when Holy Scripture, the pronouncements of the Church, and the utterances of the Fathers have established the truth of the particular doctrine which is under consideration, then reason enters, and elevated, ennobled, fortified and illumined, it walks secure in the highest realms of thought. Three entire years are given to the explicit study of it, in the formation of the Jesuit scholastic, and it continues to be employed throughout his four or five years of theology. Both sciences are fundamental in the Society's studies, and it has not lacked honor in either. But as philosophy is subsidiary and ancillary, it will be sufficient to set forth what is said about the Society's theologians.

Dr. Joseph Pohle writing in "The Catholic Encyclopedia" tells us that controversial theology was carried to the highest perfection by Cardinal Bellarmine. Indeed, there is no theologian who has defended almost the whole of Catholic theology against the attacks of the Reformers with such clearness and convincing force. Other theologians who were remarkable for their masterly defence of the Catholic Faith were the Spanish Jesuit Gregory of Valencia (d. 1603) and his pupils Adam Tanner (d. 1635) and Jacob Gretser (d. 1625). Nor can there be any question that Scholastic theology owes most of its classical works to the Society of Jesus. Molina was the first Jesuit to write a commentary on the theological "Summa" of St. Thomas, and was followed by Cardinal Toletus and those other brilliant Spaniards, Gregory of Valencia, Suárez, Vasquez, and Didacus Rúiz. Suárez, the most prominent among them, is also the foremost theologian the Society of Jesus has produced. His renown is due not only to the fertility and wealth of his literary productions, but also to his clearness, moderation, depth and circumspection. He had a critic, both subtle and severe, in his colleague, Gabriel Vásquez. Didacus Rúiz wrote masterly treatises on God and the Trinity, as did Christopher Gilles; and they were followed by Harruabal, Ferdinand Bastida, Valentine Herice, and others whose names will be forever linked with the history of Molinism. During the succeeding period, John Præpositus, Caspar Hurtado, and Antonio Pérez won fame by their commentaries on St. Thomas. Ripalda wrote the best treatise on the supernatural order. To Leonard Lessius we owe some beautiful treatises on God and his attributes. Coninck made the Trinity, the Incarnation, and the Sacraments his special study. Cardinal John de Lugo, noted for his mental acumen and highly esteemed as a moralist, wrote on the virtue of Faith and the Sacraments of Penance and the Eucharist. Claude Tiphanus is the author of a classical monograph on the notions of personality and hypostasis, and Cardinal Pallavicini, known as the historiographer of the Council of Trent, won repute as a dogmatic theologian by several of his writings (XIV, 593-94).

With regard to moral theology, Lehmkhul tells us that in the middle of the eighteenth century there arose a man who was, so to say, a blessing of Divine Providence. Owing to the eminent sanctity which he combined with solid learning, he definitely established the system of moral theology which now prevails in the Church. That man was St. Alphonsus Maria Liguori, who was canonized in 1839, and declared a Doctor of the Church in 1871. In his youth he was imbued with the stricter principles of moral theology, but as he himself confesses, the experience of fifteen years of missionary life and careful study brought him to realize the falseness and the evil consequences of the system in which he had been educated, and the necessity of a change. He, therefore, took the "Medulla" of the Jesuit, Hermann Busembaum, subjected it to a thorough examination, confirmed it by internal reasons and external authority, and then published a work which was received with universal applause, and whose doctrine is entirely on Probabilistic principles. This approval and appropriation of Busembaum's teaching by one who has been made a Doctor of the Church is a sufficient vindication of the doctrine of Probabilism, for which the Society suffered so much, and is at the same time a magnificent tribute to the greatness of Busembaum, "whose book," Lehmkuhl contents himself with saying, "was widely used," whereas forty editions of it had been issued during the author's own life, which happened to be an entire century before the publication of Liguori's great work. Busembaum's "Medulla" was printed in 1645, and Liguori's "Moral Theology" in 1748. Up to 1845, there were 200 editions of Busembaum; that is, one edition for every year of its existence. In the history of moral theology Sánchez, Layman, Azor, Castro Palao, Torres, Escobar also may be cited as leading lights.

In Scripture there are the illustrious names of Maldonado, Ribera, Prado, Pereira, Sancio and Pineda. Of the saintly Cornelius a Lapide (Vanden Steen) a Protestant critic, Goetzius, said in 1699: "He is the most important of Catholic Scriptural writers." His "Commentary of the Apocalypse" has been translated into Arabic. In ascetical theology, St. Ignatius is a leader in modern times; and his "Spiritual Exercises" form a complete system of asceticism. With him are a great number of his sons, whose names are familiar in every religious house, such as Bellarmine, Rodríguez, Alvarez de Paz, Gaudier, da Ponte, Lessius, Lancicius, Surin, Saint-Jure, Neumayr, Dirckink, Scaramelli, Nieremberg and many others. Finally, it can not be denied that the Society has hearkened to the second rule of the Summary of its Constitutions, which is read publicly and with an unfailing regularity every month of the year, in every one of its houses throughout the world, namely: that "the End of this Society is not only to attend to the salvation and perfection of our own souls, with the divine grace, but with the same, seriously to employ ourselves in procuring the salvation and perfection of our neighbor."

The canonization of saints proceeds very slowly in the modern Church. Years and years are spent in preliminary investigations of the life, the holiness, the doctrines, and the miracles of the one who is to be presented to the public recognition of the Church. Theologians and canonists have to pass on all those points and those who testify speak only under the most solemn oaths and the threat of dire censure if they witness to what they know to be false. Infinite labor has been expended before the question is presented to the Holy See. Very many of these causes never reach even that stage, for everywhere, in its progress, stands an official called the Promoter of the Faith, but popularly known as the "Devil's Advocate," whose work consists in doing his utmost to throw obstacles in the way of the canonization. Nevertheless, the Society has a sufficient number on its roll of fame, in spite of its comparatively brief and perpetually perturbed existence, to convince the world that it is not the maleficent organization that it is credited with being.

At the head of the list come the two friends, Ignatius and Xavier, dying within four years of each other: the latter in 1552, the former in 1556. The third is Borgia, who died in 1572. He had set aside all the honors of the world, except that of actual royalty, in order to take the lowest place in the Society, but he became its chief. In charming contrast with these three great men, are the three boy saints: Stanislaus, Aloysius, and Berchmans, dying respectively in 1568, 1591 and 1621. Stanislaus, the little Polish noble, travelled all the way from Vienna to Rome on foot, a distance of 1500 miles, to enter the novitiate. He had no money, or guide, or friends, but he arrived safely, for the angels gave him Communion on his journey, and he has ever since been the darling of the beginners in religious life. Aloysius was of princely blood, but died nursing the sick in the hospital. He is the patron of youthful purity, and was never a priest, though an unwise writer makes a missionary of him. The third, John Berchmans, was neither prince nor noble. On the contrary, it used to be the delight of foreigners, when rambling through the little Flemish town of Diest, to see the name of "Berchmans" on the humble shops of hucksters and grocers, and to fancy that some of the little lads who clattered about in their sabots, on their way to school, were relatives of his. His sanctity has made his family name famous in the world. His beatification was especially welcome, because, as Berchmans was the very incarnation of the Jesuit rule, the Order cannot have been the iniquitous organization it is frequently said to be.

Then there are three Japanese Jesuits who were crucified at Nagasaki in 1597; and in 1616 came Alfonso Rodríguez, who had prepared Peter Claver to be the Apostle of the negro slaves in America, and who went quietly from his post at the gates of the College of Minorca to the gates of heaven. Peter Claver had to wait for thirty-eight years before going to join his venerable friend. Besides the two St. Francises of the early days, there are two more of that name in the Society: the Frenchman, John Francis Regis, who died in 1640, and the Italian, Francis Hieronymo, whose work ended in 1716. They were both preachers to the most abandoned classes. Hieronymo could gather as many as 15,000 men to a regular monthly Communion, and when he entered the royal convict ships, he converted those sinks of iniquity into abodes of peace and resignation.

It may be noted here that St. Francis Regis had a distinction peculiarly his own. Long after his canonization as a saint, he was proclaimed to have been actually expelled from the Society, and that the public disgrace was prevented only by his death, which occurred before the official papers arrived from Rome. This accusation is trident-like in its wounding power or purpose. It transfixes Regis, and kills his reputation for virtue; then it inflicts a gash on the Society by making it present to the Church, as worthy of being raised to the altars, a man whom it was unwilling to keep in its own houses; finally, it assails the Church and attempts to show that no respect should be had for its decrees of canonization. It was almost unnecessary for the learned Bollandist, Van Ortroy, to show that there is no foundation whatever for this story of the dismissal of St. John Francis Regis from the Society of Jesus.

Such are the canonized Jesuits. The Blessed are more numerous. There are ninety-one of them. First in time are the forty Portuguese martyrs under Ignatius de Azevedo, who were slain by the French Huguenots in a harbor of the Azores in the year 1570. Then follow the English witnesses to the Truth. The first to die was Thomas Woodhouse, who was executed in 1573. Between that date and 1582 four others were put to death; among them the illustrious Edmund Campion. Of those who died in the persecutions of Japan, between 1617 and 1627, there are thirty-one Japanese as well as European Jesuits. Rudolf Aquaviva was put to death in Madura in 1583, and John de Britto in 1693. Two Hungarians, Melchior Grodecz and Stephen Pongracz were slain in Hungary in 1619, and Andrew Bobola was butchered by the Cossacks in 1657. There are others among the Society's Blessed who were not martyred, but would have been willing to win their crown in that way, if God so wanted. They are Peter Faber, the first priest of the Society; Peter Canisius, the Apostle of Germany; and the Italian Antonio Baldinucci, a great missionary who used to whip himself to blood, to move the hearts of the hardened sinners around him, and who lighted bonfires of bad books and pictures and playing cards in the public squares to impress his excitable fellow-countrymen. His missionary methods were somewhat like those of Savonarola.

Those who are ranked as Venerable are fifty in number, including Claude de la Colombiére, the Apostle of the devotion to the Sacred Heart; Cardinal Bellarmine; Nicholas Lancicius, the well-known ascetical writer; Julien Maunoir, the apostle of his native Brittany; and José Anchieta, the thaumaturgus of Brazil. There are, however, a great many others under consideration, among them being the heroes of North America--Jogues, Goupil, Lalande, Brébeuf, Lalemant, Garnier, Daniel, Chabanel--who were slain by the Iroquois. In the conclaves of 1605, which elected Clement VIII and Leo XI, Bellarmine was very seriously considered as a possible pope, but the fact that he was a Jesuit was an obstacle in the eyes of many. When he died in 1621, there was a general expectation that he would be canonized for his extraordinarily holy life. In fact, Urban VIII who was so rigid in such matters placed him among the "Venerable" six years after his death. His case was re-introduced for beatification in 1675, 1714, 1752 and 1832, but nothing was done chiefly because it would have angered the French regalist politicians, as his name was associated with a doctrine most obnoxious to them. In 1920 the case was again taken up.

We omit the countless thousands of Jesuits who ever since the Society was established have striven in every possible way to realize its ideals; the heroes who have hurried with delight to the most disgusting and dangerous missions they could find in the farthermost parts of the world; who have died by thousands of disease and exhaustion in the pest-laden ships that carried them to their destination or flung them dead on some desolate coast; or those who have been slain by savages or devoured by wild beasts; or who died of starvation in the forests and deserts where they were hunting for souls; or have given their lives with joy for the privilege of ministering to the plague-stricken. Nor do we mention here the great phalanxes of the unknown who, without a single regret for what they might have been in the world, have endeavored to obey, to some extent, at least, that startling admonition that they hear so often: Ama nesciri et pro nihilo reputari: "Love to be unknown and to be reputed as nothing,"--the men who have truly lived up to that ideal in the repulsiveness of hospitals and jails and asylums, or in the ceaseless drudgery and obscurity of the class-room and the unchanging routing of household occupations.

These men have seen themselves time and time again robbed of all their possessions, hounded out of their own countries and cities as if they were criminals, their names branded with infamy and a by-word for all that is vile, and they understood better and better, as time went on, what is meant by that page which stares at them from their rule book and which is entitled: "The Sum and Scope of Our Constitutions," and which tells them: "We are men crucified to the world, and to whom the world is crucified; new men who have put off their own affections to put on Christ, dead to themselves to live to justice; who, with St. Paul, in labors, in watching, in fastings, in chastity, in knowledge, in long-suffering, in sweetness, in the Holy Ghost, in charity unfeigned, in the word of truth, shew themselves ministers of God; and, by the armor of justice, on the right hand and on the left, by honor and dishonor, by evil report and good report, by good success and ill success, press forward with great strides to their heavenly country, and by all means possible, and with all zeal, urge on others also, ever looking to God's greatest glory."

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XII. FROM VITELLESCHI TO RICCI

1615-1773

Pupils in the Thirty Years War--Caraffa; Piccolomini; Gottifredi --Mary Ward--Alleged decline of the Society--John Paul Oliva-- Jesuits in the Courts of Kings--John Casimir--English Persecutions. Luzancy and Titus Oates--Jesuit Cardinals-- Gallicanism in France--Maimbourg--Dez--Troubles in Holland. De Noyelle and Innocent XI--Attempted Schism in France--Gonzáles and Probabilism--Don Pedro of Portugal--New assaults of Jansenists--Administration of Retz--Election of Ricci--The Coming Storm.

As Mutius Vitelleschi's term of office extended from 1615 to 1645, it coincided almost exactly with the Thirty Years War. Of course, the colleges, which had been established in almost every country in Europe, felt the effects of this protracted and devastating struggle, but, on the other hand, comfort was found in the fact that many of the great statesmen and soldiers of that epoch had been trained in those schools. There was, for instance, the Emperor Ferdinand, of whom Gustavus Adolphus used to say, "I fear only his virtues," and associated with him was Maximilian, the Great, who was so ardent in the practice of his religion that Macaulay describes him as, "a fervent missionary wielding the powers of a prince." He appointed the Jesuit poet, Balde, as his court preacher, and called to Ingolstadt the Jesuit astronomer, Scheiner, who disputed with Galileo the discovery of the sun-spots--as a matter of fact, the discoveries of both synchronized with each other, but Fabricius is asserted to have anticipated both. Scheiner suggested and planned the optical experiment which bears his name, and also invented the pantograph.

Tilly, one of the greatest warriors of his time, had first thought of entering the Society, but, on the advice of his spiritual guides, took up the profession of arms. According to Spahn "he displayed genuine piety, remarkable self-control and disinterestedness and seemed like a monk in the garb of a soldier" (The Catholic Encyclopedia, XIV, 724). As he was in command of the league of the Catholic states, and was ordered to restore the lands which had been wrested from their Catholic owners, of course, he gained the reputation of being a bitter foe of Protestantism--an attitude of mind which was attributed to his education at Cologne and Chatelet. Wallenstein, his successor, was educated at the Jesuit college of Olmütz and was a liberal benefactor of his old masters in the work of education. The fact that in 1633 they saved from the fury of a Vienna mob their rancorous enemy, the famous Count de Thurn, when he was taken prisoner by Wallenstein in the Bohemian uprising, ought to count for something in dissipating the delusion that Jesuits are essentially persecutors. When the Emperor Mathias sent them back to Bohemia and founded a college for them at Tirnau and affiliated it to the University of Prague, they showed their gratitude by sacrificing a number of their men in the pestilence which was then raging.

Richelieu, who was prominent in what was called the French period of the war, was particularly solicitous in protecting the interests of his former teachers. Although politically supporting the Protestant cause, he invariably stipulated in his treaties that the Jesuits should be protected in the territories handed over to Protestant control, even when they opposed him, as for instance, in the Siege of Prague, where Father George Plachy, a professor of sacred history in the university, led out his students in a sortie and drove back the foe--an exploit which merited for him a mural crown from the city while Emperor Ferdinand III sent an autograph letter to the General of the Society to thank him for the patriotism displayed by Plachy. Indeed, when the Protestant ministers of Charenton wanted Richelieu to suppress the Jesuits, he answered that "it was the glory of the Society to be condemned by those who attack the Church, calumniate the saints, and blaspheme Christ and God. For many reasons, the Jesuits ought to be esteemed by everyone; indeed there are not a few who love them precisely because men like you hate them."

There is one of their pupils who, at this time, though a man of unusual ability, brought sorrow not only on the Society but also on the universal Church: Marc Antonio de Dominis. He was a Dalmatian, whose family had given a Pope and many illustrious prelates to the Church. He followed the course of the Jesuit college in Illyria, and amazed his masters by the brilliancy of his talents. He entered the novitiate, and contrary to the practice of the Society was immediately made a professor of sacred eloquence, philosophy and mathematics. Crowds flocked to hear him; meantime he distinguished himself in the pulpit. Apparently he was a priest when he became a novice. The fame he acquired, however, turned his head and he left the Society to become a bishop, and later an archbishop, in Dalmatia. But his utterances soon showed that he was at odds with the Church. He was with Venice in its quarrel with the Pope, and then relinquishing his archbishopric, he fled to England, where he was received with enthusiasm by James I, who kept him at court, showered rich benefices on him and made him Dean of Windsor. There he wrote a book entitled "De republica christiana" (1620), which denied the primacy of the Pope. Pursued by remorse he went to Rome and at the feet of Gregory XV implored forgiveness for his apostasy. But his repentance was feigned. His letters to certain individuals showed that he was still a heretic, and he was imprisoned in Sant' Angelo, where he died in 1624, giving signs at the last moment of genuine repentance.

The long Generalate of Vitelleschi was clouded by one disaster: the expulsion of the Jesuits from the Duchy of Lorraine. They had opposed the bigamous marriage of the duke, but his confessor, Father Cheminot, claimed that there were sufficient grounds for invalidating the first marriage, and took the opposite side. He was expelled from the Society or left it.

During Vitelleschi's time, the famous English nun, Mary Ward, appeared in Rome. She had been a Poor Clare, but found that it was not her vocation to be a contemplative, and she, therefore, proposed to establish a religious congregation which would do for women in their own sphere what the Jesuits were doing for men. For that end she asked for dispensation from enclosure, choir duty, the religious habit and also freedom from diocesan control. As all this was an imitation of the Society's methods, she and her companions began to be called by their enemies "Jesuitesses." Their demands, of course, evoked a storm, but Father Vitelleschi encouraged them, and Suárez and Lessius were deputed to study the constitutions of the new congregation. Nevertheless, although the women were the recipients of very great consideration from three Popes, Paul V, Gregory XV, and Urban VIII, the committee of cardinals to whom the matter was referred, refused in 1630 to approve of their rules. In 1639 the little group returned to England where, under the protection of Queen Henrietta Maria, they began their work, and were approved by the Holy See. At first, they were known in Rome as "The English Ladies." In Ireland and America they are "The Loretto Nuns" (A masterly review of this incident may be found in Guilday's "English Refugees," I, c. vi).

Vitelleschi died in February, 1645, and was followed in rapid succession by Fathers Caraffa, Piccolomini, Gottifredi and Nickel, whose collective terms amounted only to seventeen years. Caraffa governed the Society for three years; Piccolomini for two; and Gottifredi died before the congregation which elected him had terminated its work. Nickel was chosen in 1652. He was old and infirm and after nine years, felt compelled to ask for a Vicar-General to assist him in his work. The one chosen for this office was John Paul Oliva. He served three years in that capacity, but as he had been made Vicar with the right of succession, he became General automatically when Father Nickel died on July 31, 1664. This departure from usage had been allowed with the approval of Pope Alexander VII. Oliva was a Venetian and two of his family, his grandfather and uncle, had been Doges of the Republic. Before his election to the office of General he had been ten years master of novices and had also been named rector of the Collegium Germanicum. He was on terms of intimacy with Condé and Turenne; and Innocent X died in his arms. His election evidently gave great satisfaction. Princes and cardinals began to multiply the colleges of the Society throughout Italy, where they already abounded. Milan, Naples, Cuneo, Monbasileo, Volturna, Genoa, Turin, Savigliano, Brera and other cities all wanted them.

It is this period from 1615 to 1664, which, for some undiscoverable reason, is described both by Ranke and Böhmer-Monod as marking the deterioration and decay of the Society. An examination of this indictment is, of course, imperative; and though it must necessarily be somewhat polemical, it may be helpful to a better understanding of the situation and give a more complete knowledge of facts. Ranke begins his attack by throwing discredit on Vitelleschi, describing him as a man of "little learning," adducing as his authority for this assertion a phrase in some Italian writer who says that Vitelleschi was a man "di poche lettre ma di santità di vita non ordinaria." Now the obvious meaning of this is, not that he was a man of "little learning," but that "he wrote very few letters." As he belonged to an unusually illustrious family of princes, cardinals, and popes; and as he had not only made the full course of studies in the Society, but had taught philosophy and theology for several years and was subsequently appointed to be the Rector of the Collegium Maximum of Naples, which was the Society's house of advanced studies, and as he was, besides, the author of several learned works, it is manifestly ridiculous to class him with the illiterates. As a matter of fact, Mutius Vitelleschi was a far better educated man than Leopold von Ranke.

Father Nickel, in turn, is set down as "rude, discourteous, and repulsive; to such an extent that he was deposed from his office by the general congregation, which explicitly declared that he had forfeited all authority."

It would be hard to crowd into a whole chapter as many false statements as this much and perhaps over-praised historian contrives to condense in a single sentence. For apart from the inherent impossibility of anyone who was "rude, repulsive and discourteous" arriving at the dignity of General of the Society, it is absolutely false that Father Nickel "was deposed from his office and was explicitly told that he had forfeited his authority." Far from this being the case, it was he who had summoned the congregation in order to lay before it the urgent necessity of his being relieved from the heavy burden of his office. On its assembling, the first thing he did was to ask for a Vicar because his infirmities and his age--he was then seventy-nine years old--made it impossible for him to fulfill the duties of his office, or even to take part in the proceedings of the congregation. Moreover, it is absolutely calumnious to say that the congregation explicitly declared that he had forfeited all his authority. Even Ranke, who makes the charge, declares that he was guilty of no transgression; nor was the action of the congregation in defining the Vicar's position as "not being in conjunction with that of the retiring General," anything else than a desire to avoid having the Society governed by two heads. Nor did this denote "a change in the Society's methods;" for there had been a provision in the constitution from the very beginning for even the deposition of a general. Again, far from being repulsive in his manners, the congregation proclaimed him to have been the very opposite. Indeed, all his brethren sympathized with him, especially at that moment, because, besides the usual burden of his office and his age, he was afflicted by the sad news which had just reached him that three of the Fathers who were delegates to the congregation--the Vice-Provincial of Sardinia and his two associates--had been shipwrecked at the mouth of the Tiber. The words of the congregation's acceptance of his withdrawal denote nothing but the deepest reverence and affection. They are: Congregatio obsequendum duxit voluntati charissimi optimeque meriti Parentis, that is, "The congregation deemed it proper to comply with the desire of the most beloved and most deserving Father."

Böhmer-Monod, likewise, in spite of their joint claim to sincerity and lack of bias, are especially denunciatory of the character of the Society at this juncture. "It is no longer," they say, "an autocracy, but a many-headed oligarchy, which defends its rights against the General as jealously as did the Venetian nobles against the doges. The military and monastic spirit has relaxed and a spirit of luxurious idleness and greed of worldly possessions has taken its place. Not only the writings of the enemies of the Jesuits, but the letters of their own Generals go to prove it. Thus, Vitelleschi wrote, in 1617, that the reproach of money-seeking was a universal one against the Society. Nickel also sent a grand circular letter to recall the Order to the observance of Apostolic poverty. Indeed, John Sobieski, a devoted friend of the Order, could not refrain from writing to Oliva: 'I remark with great grief that the good name of the Society has much to suffer from your eagerness to increase its fortune without troubling yourselves about the rights of others. I feel bound, therefore, to warn the Jesuits here against their passion for wealth and domination, which are only too evident in the Jesuits of other countries. Rectors seek to enrich their colleges in every way. It is their only thought.' But these reproaches made no impression on Oliva who was a sybarite leading an indolent life at the Gesù or in his beautiful villa of Albano. Even if he were the proper kind of man, he would have been powerless, for, in 1661 Goswin Nickel was deposed solely because of his rigidity towards the most influential members of the Order. The Constitution of the Order was changed, for Oliva was made General because he had humored the nepotism of the Pope."

The answer to this formidable arraignment is:--First, the General of the Society cannot be an autocrat. He must rule according to the Constitutions; failing in this, he may be deposed by the general congregation. Secondly, the society can never be ruled by an oligarchy, especially by "an oligarchy with many heads" which is a contradiction in terms. The only oligarchy possible would be the little group around the General known as the assistants, representing the different national or racial sections of the Society. But they are invested with no authority whatever. They are merely counsellors, are elected by the Congregation, and ipso facto lose their office at the death of the General, though of course they hold over until the election of his successor. The metaphor of the Venetian nobles and the doges has no application in the Society of Jesus.

Nor is it true that after Vitelleschi's death, "it lost its monastic spirit" for the simple reason that it never had that spirit. The Jesuits are not monks and their official designation in ecclesiastical documents is Clerici Regulares Societatis Jesu (Clerks, or Clerics, Regular of the Society of Jesus). It is precisely because they broke away from old monastic traditions and methods that they were so long regarded with suspicion by the secular and regular or monastic clergy, especially as the innovation was made at the very time that Martin Luther was furiously assailing monastic orders. If, however, by "the monastic spirit" is meant the religious spirit, and that is possibly the meaning of the writers, it will not be difficult to show that piety and holiness of life had not departed from the Society. For instance, some of the greatest modern ascetic writers appeared just at that time in the Society. Thus, Suárez died in 1617, and Lessius in 1623, both of whom may some day be canonized saints. To the latter, St. Francis de Sales wrote to acknowledge his spiritual indebtedness to the Society. Living at that time also were Bellarmine, Petavius, Nieremberg, Layman, Castro Palao, Surin, Nouet, de la Colombiére, and others equally spiritual. Álvarez de Paz died in 1620, Le Gaudier in 1622, Drexellius in 1630, Louis Lallemant in 1635, Lancisius in 1636, de Ponte in 1644, Saint-Jure in 1657. Meantime, the famous work on "Christian Perfection" by Rodríguez, who died in 1616, had been making its way to every religious house in Christendom. There was also a great number of holy men in the Society at that moment. Had that not been the case, Cardinal Orsini, who died in 1627, would not have asked for admission; nor Charles de Lorraine, Prince Bishop and Count of Verdun, who had entered a few years before; nor would the Pope have made the great Hungarian Pazmany a cardinal in 1616, and Pallavicini in 1659. Blessed Bernardino Realini was not yet dead; St. John Berchmans was living in 1621; and St. Peter Claver died in 1654, before his adviser St. Alphonsus Rodríguez; St. John Francis Regis made his first vows in 1633, and Vitelleschi himself is admitted to have been a man of extraordinary sanctity. A religious order with such members is the reverse of decadent.

The "military spirit" which the Society was reproached with having lost was no doubt the daring "missionary spirit" which won her so much glory in the early days. But it was by no means lost. Andrada made his famous journey to Tibet in 1624; de Rhodes started about 1630 on his famous overland trip from India to Paris, and then set off for Persia where he died; the missionaries of North America were exploring Hudson Bay and the Great Lakes and searching for the Mississippi; those of South America were following the wonderful Vieira through thousands of miles of forests and along endless rivers in Brazil; others were searching the Congo or Gold Coast or Abyssinia for souls; Jerónimo Xavier and de Nobili were in India; others again in Persia and the Isles of Greece; and Ricci and Schall and their companions were converting China. There were martyrdoms all over the world, like those of Brébeuf and his companions in Canada; Jesuits were laying down their lives in Mexico, Paraguay, the Caribbean Islands, the Philippines, Russia, England, Hungary, and above all in Japan, where every member of the Society was either butchered or exiled; while thousands of their brethren in Europe were clamoring to take their places in the pit or at the stake. That condition of things would not seem to connote degeneracy or decadence.

As for the "grand circular letter," which Father Nickel sent out to the whole Society, that document was nothing but an academic disquisition on the relative importance of poverty as against the two other vows. It was not a censure of the Society for its non-observance of poverty. With regard to Sobieski, it is impossible to imagine that he ever uttered such a calumny against his most devoted friends. They had trained him intellectually and spiritually; just before the great battle with the Tatars, he spent the whole night in prayer with his Jesuit confessor, Przeborowski, and in the morning he and all his soldiers knelt to receive the priest's blessing. Finally, when the bloody battle was won, they knelt before the altar, at the feet of the same priest, and intoned a hymn of thanksgiving to God for the glorious victory. When Przeborowski died, Father Vota took his place, and it was he who induced the hero to join the League of Augsburg, thus helping him to win the glory of being regarded as the saviour of Europe, when on September 12, 1683, he drove back the Turks from the gates of Vienna. As Sobieski died in Vota's arms, it is not very likely that he ever regarded his affectionate friends as "greedy and rapacious."

What Böhmer-Monod says regarding Vitelleschi's encyclical to the Society on the occasion of his election is equally unjustifiable. Not only does the General not denounce the Society for its degeneracy, but he explicitly says, "Although I am fully aware that there is still in the body of the Society the same spirit that animated it at the beginning, and moreover, that this spirit not only actually persists, but is conspicuously robust and full of life and vigor; nevertheless, as each one desires to see what he loves absolutely and in every respect perfect, we should all, from the highest to the lowest, strive to the utmost to have it free from the slightest stain or wrinkle. To urge this is the sole purpose of this epistle." Later on he says, "There are three things which help us to conserve this spirit: prayer, persecution and obedience." The second, at least, has never failed the Society.

That there was no such decadence or degeneracy later is placed beyond all possibility of doubt by a man whose integrity cannot for a single moment be questioned: Father John Roothaan, General of the Society, who wrote to all his brethren throughout the world concerning the third century in the life of the Order. Had he made any misstatement, he would have been immediately contradicted. As for his competency in the premises it goes without saying that no one had better means than he for becoming acquainted with the condition of the Society at that period. He testifies as follows:

"When the Society began its third centenary, it was flourishing and vigorous as it always has been in literature, theology, and eloquence; it engaged in the education of youth with distinguished success, in some countries without rivals; in others it was second almost to no other religious order; its zeal for souls was exercised in behalf of men of every condition of life not only in the countries of Europe, Catholic and Protestant alike, but among the savages of the remotest part of the world, nor was the commendation awarded them less than the fruit they had gathered; and what is most important, amid the applause they won and the favors they were granted, their pursuit of genuine piety and holiness was such, that although in the vast number of more than twenty thousand then in the Society there may have been a few, a very few, who in their life and conduct were not altogether what they should have been, and who in consequence brought sorrow on that best of mothers, the Society, nevertheless there were very many in every province who were conspicuous for sanctity and who diffused far and wide the good odor of Jesus Christ. It waged a bitter war against error and vice; it fought strenuously in defence of Holy Church and the authority of the See of Peter; it displayed a ceaseless vigilance in detecting the new errors which then began to show themselves, and whose object was to overturn the thrones of kings and princes and to revolutionize the world; and it bent every one of its energies of voice, pen, counsel and teaching to refute and as far as possible to destroy those pernicious doctrines. Hence it was sustained and favored by the Sovereign Pontiffs and by the hierarchy of the Church and its authority was held in the highest esteem by princes and people alike. It seemed like a splendid abiding-place of science and piety and virtue; an august temple extending over the earth, consecrated to the glory of God and the salvation of souls."

The characterization of Oliva, by Böhmer-Monod as "a sybarite leading an indolent life at the Gesù or in his beautiful villa at Albano," is nothing else than an outrage. Sybarites do not live till the age of eighty-one; nor are they summoned to fill the office of "Apostolic Preacher" by four successive Popes--Innocent X, Alexander VI, Clement IX, and Clement X; nor do they write huge folios of profound theology; nor do they act as advisers to popes, kings, and princes; nor could they govern fifteen or twenty thousand men scattered all over the world, all of whom looked up to them as saints. Such in fact was this really great man, and falsehood could scarcely go further, than to pillory him in history as a degraded voluptuary. As for his luxurious villa, it will suffice to say that the individual who conceived that idea of a Jesuit country-house, never saw one. It is never luxurious; but always shabby, bare and poor.

The whole available income of the English province at this period (1625-1743) may be found in Foley's "Records" (VII, pt. I, xviii), and is quoted in Guilday's "English Refugees" (I, 156). "The entire revenue in 1645 for colleges, residences, seminaries under their charge, as well as fourteen centres in England and Wales is recorded at something like £3915. This sum maintained 335 persons, which at the present rate of money would be at £34.10 per head. In 1679 after the Orange Rebellion this sum was reduced." What was true of the English province, may also in great measure be predicated of the rest, especially of the one in which the General resided.

Another curious instance of this systematic calumniation is found in the preface of a volume of poems of Urban VIII, edited in 1727 by a professor of Oxford, who was prompted to publish them, we are informed, "because the poems would be an excellent corrective of the obscenity and unbridled licentiousness of the day." But while thus extolling the Pope, this heretical admirer of His Holiness, goes on to say that the Pontiff was particularly beloved by Henry IV, and when that monarch was attacked by an assassin, "the Jesuits, the authors of the execrable deed, were expelled from the kingdom, and a great pillar was erected to perpetuate their infamy. Whereupon Urban, who was then Cardinal Barberini, was sent to France, and induced Henry to destroy the pillar, and recall the Jesuits without inflicting any punishment on them."

For a person of ordinary intelligence, the conclusion would be that Barberini recognized that the Society had been grossly calumniated; if not, he had a curious way of showing his affection for the King by bringing back his deadly enemies and destroying the pillar. The author of this effusion also fails to inform his readers that Pope Urban VIII was a pupil of the Jesuits; that during all his life he was particularly attached to the Order; that one of his first acts after ascending the pontifical throne was to raise Francis Borgia to the ranks of the beatified; that the Jesuit, Cardinal de Lugo, was his particular adviser, and that in the reform of the hymnody of the Breviary, he entrusted the work exclusively to the Jesuits. With regard to the expulsion of the Society from France, Henry IV had no hand in it whatever. That injustice is to be laid to the score of the parliament of Paris over which Henry had no control. Far from being an enemy he was the devoted and affectionate friend of the Society, as well he might be, for it was the influence of the Spanish Jesuit, Cardinal Toletus, that made it possible for him to ascend the throne of France.

Long before his election as General, Oliva had achieved considerable reputation as an orator; and, as his correspondence shows, he was held in the highest esteem by many of the sovereigns of Europe for his wisdom as a counsellor. Unfortunately, however, nearly all the trouble that occurred in his time originated in the courts of kings. Thus in France, Louis XIV made his confessor, Father François Annat, a member of his council on religious affairs, with the result that when the king fell out with the Pope, Annat's position became extremely uncomfortable; but it is to his credit that he effected a reconciliation between the king and the Pontiff. After Annat, François de Lachaise was entrusted with the distribution of the royal patronage, and, of course, stirred up enmity on all sides. In Portugal, Don Pedro insisted upon Father Fernandes being a member of the Cortes; but Oliva peremptorily ordered him to refuse the office. In Spain, the queen made Father Nithard, her confessor, regent of the kingdom, and, German though he was, grand inquisitor and councillor of state. When he resisted, she appealed to the Pope, and the poor man was obliged to accept both appointments. Of course he aroused the opposition of the politicians and resigned. The queen then sent him as ambassador to Rome, and on his arrival there, the Pope made him a cardinal. He wore the purple for eight years and died in 1681. The saintly Father Claude de la Colombiére, the spiritual director of the Blessed Margaret Mary, also enters into the category of "courtier Jesuits." He was sent to England as confessor of the young Duchess of York, Mary Beatrice of Este, and though he led a very austere and secluded life in the palace, he was accused of participation in the famous Titus Oates plot, about which all England went mad; and although there was absolutely no evidence against him, he was kept in jail for a month, and in 1678 was sent back to France.

It was Father Petre's association with James II of England that gave Oliva most trouble. He was not the confessor, but the friend of the king, who had taken him out of the prison to which Titus Oates had consigned him. James wanted to make him grand almoner, and when Oliva protested, Castlemain, the English ambassador at Rome, was ordered to ask the Pope to make him a bishop and a cardinal. When that was prevented an attempt was made to give him a seat in the privy councils. Crétineau-Joly not only questions Petre's sincerity in these various moves, but accused the English provincial of collusion. Pollen, however, who is a later and a better authority, insists that, if we cannot aquit Petre of all blame, it is chiefly because first-hand evidence is deficient. Petre made no effort to defend himself but the king completely exonerated him. The king's evidence, however, counted for nothing in England with his Protestant subjects. The feeling against Petre was intense and William of Orange fomented it for political reasons, and the most extravagant stories were accepted as true; such, for instance, as that the Jesuits were going to take possession of England, or that the heir-apparent was a supposititious infant. Finally, when James fled to France, Petre followed him and remained by his side till the end. "He was not a plotter," says Pollen, "but an easy-going English priest who was almost callous to public opinion." It is perfectly clear that he had nothing to do with the foolish policies of James. On the contrary, he had done everything in his power to thwart them. "Had I followed his advice," James admitted to Louis XIV, "I would have escaped disaster."

A romantic figure appears at this time in the person of John Casimir, who after many adventures ascended the throne of Poland. In spite of the remonstrances of his mother he not only refused to dispute the claim of his elder brother, but espoused his cause, fought loyally for his election and was the first to congratulate him when chosen. He then withdrew from Poland and we find him, first, as an officer in the imperial army, and at the head of a league against France. Afterwards, while in command of a fleet in the Mediterranean, he was driven ashore near Marseilles by a storm; he was recognized and kept in prison for two years, but was finally released at the request of his brother. In passing by Loreto, on his way home, the fancy of becoming a Jesuit seized him. He applied for admission and was received, but left three or four years afterwards, and, though not in orders, was made a cardinal. When the news of his brother's death arrived, he returned the red hat to the Pope and set out for Poland to claim the crown, and simultaneously that of Sweden. The latter pretence, of course, meant war with Gustavus Adolphus, who forthwith invaded Poland, but Casimir drove him out and also expelled the Prussians from Lithuania. Probably on account of the dissensions in his own country which gave him occupation enough, he ceased to urge his rights to the throne of Sweden, and after some futile struggles relinquished that of Poland likewise.

In the Convocation of Warsaw where he pronounced his abdication, he is said to have made the following utterance which sounds like a prophecy but which may have been merely a clever bit of political foresight. "Would to God," he exclaimed "that I were a false prophet, but I foresee great disasters for Poland. The Cossack and the Muscovite will unite with the people who speak their language and will seize the greater part of Lithuania. The frontiers of Greater Poland will be possessed by the House of Brandenburg; and Prussia, either by treaty or force of arms, will invade our territory. In the dismemberment of our country, Austria will not let slip the chance of laying hands on Cracow." John was the last representative of the House of Vasa. He was succeeded by Michael, who reigned only three years (1669-72) and then the great Sobieski was elected after he and his 20,000 Poles had routed an army of 100,000 Tatars--an exploit which made him the country's idol as well as its king.

In becoming General, Oliva inherited the suffering inflicted on the Society by the English persecutions which had been inaugurated by Elizabeth and continued by James I. A lull had occurred during the reign of Charles I, probably because the queen, Henrietta Maria, was a Catholic; and in 1634 there were as many as one hundred and sixty Jesuits in the British dominions; but Cromwell was true to his instincts, and, between the time of the Long Parliament and the Restoration of the Stuarts, twenty-four Catholics died for the Faith. Naturally, the Jesuits came in for their share. Thus Father James Latin was put in jail on August 3, 1643, and was never heard of afterwards. "From which," says O'Reilly, "it is easy to conjecture his fate." William Boyton was one of the victims in a general massacre that took place in 1647, in the Cashel Cathedral; and two years afterwards, John Bathe and Robert Netterville were put to death by the Cromwellians in Drogheda. Bathe was tied to a stake and shot, while Netterville, who was an invalid, was dragged from his bed, beaten with clubs and flung out on the highway. He died four days afterwards.

The Stuarts were restored in 1660, but the easy-going Charles II made no serious effort to erase the laws against Catholics from the statute-book, and from time to time proclamations were issued ordering all priests and Jesuits out of the realm. Two occasions especially furnished pretexts for these expulsions. One was the "Great Plague," and the other was the "Great Fire," for both of which the Jesuits were held responsible. No one knew what was going to happen next, when there appeared in England an individual to whom Crétineau-Joly devotes considerable space, but who receives scant notice from English writers. He announced himself as Hippolyte du Chatelet de Luzancy. He was the son of a French actress, and was under indictment for forgery in his native country; added to these attractions, founded or not, he claimed to be an ex-Jesuit. Of course, he was received with great enthusiasm by the prelates of the Established Church, for he let it be known he was quite willing to accept any religious creed they might present to him. The Government officials also welcomed him. His first exploit was to accuse Father Saint-Germain, the Duchess of York's confessor, of entering his apartment with a drawn dagger and threatening to kill him. Whereupon all England was startled and the House of Lords passed a bill consigning all priests and Jesuits to jail. Saint-Germain was the first victim. Luzancy was then called before the privy council and told a blood curdling story of a great conspiracy that was being hatched on the Continent. It implicated the king and the Duke of York. The story was false on the face of it, but Luzancy was taken under the protection of the Bishop of London; he was given the degree of Master of Arts by Oxford and was installed as the Vicar of Dover Court, Essex. A most unexpected defender of the Society appeared at this juncture in the person of Antoine Arnauld, the fiercest foe of the Jesuits in France. He denounced Luzancy as an imposter, and berated the whole English people for accepting the conspiracy myth. His indignation, however, was not prompted by any love of the Society, but because Luzancy claimed to have lived for a considerable time with the Jansenists and with Arnauld, in particular, at Port-Royal.

It was probably the success achieved by Luzancy that suggested the greater extravagances of Titus Oates. Titus Oates was a minister of the Anglican Establishment, and first signalized himself in association with his father, Samuel, who also wore the cloth, by trumping up an abominable charge against a certain Protestant schoolmaster, for which the father lost his living, and the son was sent to prison for trial. Escaping from jail, Titus became a chaplain on a man-of-war, but was expelled from the navy in a twelve-month. He then succeeded in being appointed Protestant chaplain in the household of the Duke of Norfolk and was thus brought into contact with Catholics. He promptly professed to be converted and was baptized on Ash-Wednesday 1677. The Jesuit provincial was induced to send him to the English College at Valladolid, but the infamous creature was expelled before half a year had passed. Nevertheless, he was granted another trial and was admitted to the Seminary of St. Omers, which soon turned him out of doors.

Coming to London, he took up with Israel Tonge who is described as a "city divine and a man of letters," and together they devised the famous "Popish Plot," each claiming the credit of being its inventor. It proposed: first, to kill "the Black Bastard," a designation of Charles II which they said was in vogue among Catholics. His majesty was to be shot "with silver bullets from jointed carbines." Secondly, two Benedictines were to poison and stab the queen's physician, "with the help," as Titus declared, "of four Irish ruffians who were to be hired by Doctor Fogarthy." The Prince of Orange, the Lord Bishop of Hertford and several minor celebrities were also to be put out of the way. Thirdly, England, Ireland and all the British possessions were to be conquered by the sword and subjected to the Romish obedience. To achieve all this, the Pope, the Society of Jesus and their confederates were to send an Italian bishop to England to proclaim the papal programme. Subsequently, Cardinal Howard was to be papal legate. Father White, the Jesuit provincial, or Oliva, Father General of the Order, would issue commissions to generals, lieutenant generals, naval officers. When the king was duly assassinated, the crown was to be offered to the Duke of York, after he had approved of the murder of his royal brother as well as the massacre of all his Protestant subjects. Whereupon the duke himself was to be killed and the French were to be called in. The Jesuit provincial was to be made Archbishop of Canterbury, and so on.

No more extravagant nonsense could have been conceived by the inhabitants of a madhouse. Nevertheless, "all England," says Macaulay, "was worked up into a frenzy by it. London was placed in a state of siege. Train bands were under arms all night. Preparations were made to barricade the main thoroughfares. Patrols marched up and down the streets, cannon were planted in Whitehall. Every citizen carried a flail, loaded with lead, to brain the popish assassins, and all the jails were filled with papists. Meantime Oates was received in the palaces of the great and hailed everywhere as the saviour of the nation." The result of it all was that sixteen innocent men were sent to the gallows, among them seven Jesuits: William Ireland, John Gavan, William Harcourt, Anthony Turner, Thomas Whitebread, John Fenwick and David Lewis, besides their illustrious pupil, Oliver Plunket, Archbishop of Armagh. As the saintly prelate has been beatified by the Church as a martyr for thus shedding his blood, inferentially one might claim a similar distinction for all his companions. On the list are one Benedictine, one Franciscan and six secular priests. The Earl of Stafford who was sentenced like the rest to be hanged, drawn and quartered was graciously permitted by his majesty to be merely beheaded. For these murders Oates was pensioned for life, but in 1682 Judge Jeffries fined him one hundred thousand pounds for scandalum magnatum and condemned him to be whipped, pilloried, degraded and imprisoned for life. "He has deserved more punishment," said the judge, "than the law can inflict." But when William of Orange came to the throne he pardoned the miscreant and gave him a pension of three hundred pounds.

In his "Popish Plot," Pollock continually insists, by insinuation rather than by direct assertion, that Oates was a novice of the Society. Thus, we are told that he was sent to the "Collegio de los Ingleses at Valladolid to nurse into a Jesuit;" and subsequently "the expelled novice was sent to complete his education at St. Omers." But, in the first place, a "Collegio" at Valladolid or anywhere else can never be a novitiate, for novices are forbidden all collegiate study; secondly, St. Omers in France was a boys' school and nothing else; thirdly, the description of Oates by the Jesuit Father Warner absolutely precludes any possibility of his ever having been admitted as a novice or even as a remotely prospective candidate.

Warner's pen picture merits reproduction. Its general lines are: "Mentis in eo summa stupiditas; lingua balbutiens; sermo e trivio; vox stridula, et cantillans, plorantis quam loquentis similior. Memoria fallax, prius dicta numquam fideliter reddens; frons contracta; oculi parvi et in occiput retracti; facies plana, in medio lancis sive disci instar compressa; prominentibus hic inde genis rubicundus nasus; os in ipso vultus centro, mentum reliquam faciem prope totam æquans; caput vix corporis trunco extans, in pectus declive; reliqua corporis hisce respondentia; monstro quam homini similiora." In English this means that the lovely Oates "was possessed of a mind in which stupidity was supremely conspicuous, a tongue that stuttered in vulgar speech; a voice that was shrill, whining, and more of a moan than an articulate utterance; a faulty memory that could not recall what had been said; a narrow forehead, small eyes, sunk deep in his head; a flat face depressed in the middle like a plate or a dish; a red nose set between puffy cheeks; a mouth so much in the centre of his countenance that the chin was almost as large as the rest of the features; his head bent forward on his chest; and the rest of his body after the same build, making him more of a monster than a man." If the English provincial could for a moment have ever dreamed of admitting such an abortion into the Society, he would have verified his name of Father Strange. On the other hand it was natural for the fanatics of that time to adopt Oates.

During Oliva's administration, and in spite of his protests, Father Giovanni Salerno and Francisco Cienfuegos were made cardinals; under Peter the Great a few Jesuits were admitted to Russia, but the terrible Czar was fickle and drove out his guests soon after. There was also some missionary success in Persia, where 400,000 Nestorians were converted between the years 1656 and 1681, the date of Oliva's death.

Charles de Noyelle, a Belgian, was now appointed Vicar; and at the congregation which assembled in 1682 he was elected General, receiving every vote except his own. He was then sixty-seven years old. His first task was to adjust the difficulty between Innocent XI and Louis XIV on the question of the régale, or the royal right to administer the revenues of a certain number of vacant abbeys and episcopal sees claimed by the kings of France. Such invasions of the Church-rights by the State were common extending as far back as the times of St. Bernard. By 1608 the French parliament had extended this prerogative to the whole of France; but the upright Henry IV, half Protestant though he was, refused to accept it; whereas later on the Catholic Louis XIV had no scruples about the matter, and issued an edict to that effect. The Pope protested and refused to send the Bulls to the royal nominees for the vacant dioceses, with the result that at one time there were thirty sees in France without a bishop. Only two prelates stood out against the king and, strange to say, one of them was Caulet, the Jansenist Bishop of Pamiers; who, stranger still, lived on intimate terms with the Jesuits.

So far the Jesuits had kept out of the controversy, but, unfortunately, Father Louis Maimbourg published a book in support of the king, and, eminently distinguished though he was in the field of letters, especially in history, he was promptly expelled from the Society. The king angrily protested and ordered Maimbourg not to obey, but the General stood firm and Maimbourg severed his connection with his former brethren. As substantially all the bishops were arrayed against the Pope, copies of the Bull against Louis were sent to the Jesuit provincials for distribution. The situation was most embarrassing, but before the copies were delivered, they were seized by the authorities. In retaliation for the Bull, the king took the principality of Benevento, which was part of the patrimony of the Church, and thus drew upon himself a sentence of excommunication. As this document would also have been refused by the bishops, it was entrusted to a Jesuit Father named Dez, who was on his way from Rome to France.

For a Frenchman to be the bearer of a Bull excommunicating his king, especially such a king as Louis XIV, was not without danger; but Dez was equal to the task. He directed his steps in such a leisurely fashion towards Paris that his brethren in Italy had time to appeal to the Pope to withdraw the decree. Fortunately the Pope yielded, and the excommunication was never pronounced; much to the relief of both sides. It would probably have ended in a schism; as a matter of fact it provoked the famous Assembly of the Clergy of 1682 which formulated the Four Articles of the Gallican Church. These Articles were then approved by the king and ordered to be taught in all theological schools of France--a proceeding which again angered the Sovereign Pontiff, who refused to confirm any of the royal nominees for the vacant bishoprics. The contest now became bitter, and it is said that Father Lachaise, whether prompted by the king or not, wrote to the General asking him to plead with the Pope to transmit the Bulls. That brought down the Papal displeasure not only on Lachaise personally but on all the Jesuits of France.

In 1689 the Pope died, and the king, who was by this time alarmed at the lengths to which he had gone, suggested that each of the bishops whom he had named should write a personal letter to the new Pontiff, Alexander VIII, disclaiming the acts of the Assembly of the Clergy of 1682. Subsequently, the king himself sent an expression of regret for having made the Four Articles obligatory on the whole kingdom; he thus absolutely annulled the proceedings of the famous gathering. The régale, however, was and is still maintained as a right in France whether it happens to be monarchical or republican. At present, it holds all church property but has nothing to say about episcopal appointments.

In 1685 the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes was issued. It cancelled all the privileges granted to the Huguenots by Henry IV, and Protestants were given the choice either of renouncing their creed or leaving the country. The result was disastrous industrially, as France was thus deprived of a great number of skilled workmen and well-to-do merchants; in addition fictitious conversions were encouraged. As usual, the Jesuits were blamed for this measure by the Calvinists and Jansenists, and in retaliation the states general of Holland imposed the most outrageous taxes on the forty-five establishments which the Society possessed in that little country, hoping thereby to compass their ruin. But the sturdy Netherlanders drew up a formal protest and demanded from the government an explanation of why men of any religious views, even foreigners, should find protection in Holland while native Dutchmen were so unfairly treated. The claim was allowed, but the antagonism of the government, inspired as it was by William of Orange, who recognized that hostility to the Order was a good recommendation to his English subjects, was not laid aside. It was vigorous twenty years later.

The Vicar-Apostolic of Holland, who was titular Archbishop of Sebaste, had long been scandalizing the faithful by his heretical teachings. He was finally removed by the Holy See; but against this act the government of the states general protested, and ordered the Jesuits to write to Rome and ask for the rehabilitation of the vicar. The plea was that by doing so, they would restore peace to the country which was alleged to have been very much disturbed by the Papal document. The refusal to do so, they were warned, would be regarded as evidence of hostility to the government. De Bruyn, the superior, wrote to the Pope in effect, but instead of asking for the vicar's rehabilitation, he thanked the Holy Father for removing him. The consequence was that on June 20, 1705, three months after they had been told to write, the forty-five Jesuit houses in Holland were closed, and the seventy-four Fathers took the road of exile, branded as disturbers of the public peace.

It was during the Generalate of Father de Noyelle, that Innocent XI is said to have determined to suppress the Society by closing the novitiates. This is admitted, even by Pollen, and is flourished in the face of the Jesuits by their enemies as a mark of the disfavor in which they are held by that illustrious Pontiff. The assertion is based on a Roman document, the condemnatory clause of which runs as follows: "The Father General and the whole Society should be forbidden in the future to receive any novices, or to admit anyone to simple or solemn vows, under pain of nullity or other punishment, according to the wish of His Holiness, until they effectually submit and prove that they have submitted to the decree issued with regard to the aforesaid missions." Crétineau-Joly or his editor points out in a note that this is not a papal document at all. The Pope would never address himself as "His Holiness," nor tell himself what he should do. It was simply an utterance of the Propaganda, in which body the Society did not lack enemies. It was dated 1684, and in the very next year its application was restricted by the Propaganda itself to the provinces of Italy. It was never approved by the Holy See, and when it was presented to Innocent XI under still another form, namely to prevent the reception of novices in Eastern Asia, he flatly rejected it.

Louis XIV had lost the Netherlands to Spain and in a fit of childish petulance he insisted that the Jesuit province there on account of being half Walloon should be annexed to the French assistancy. When this demand was disregarded he ordered the French Jesuits who were in Rome to return to France, as he proposed to make the French part of the Society independent of the General. He was finally placated by a promise that men who had been superiors in France proper, should be chosen to fill similar positions in the Walloon district. It was a very silly performance.

Tirso González, a Spaniard, was chosen as the successor of de Noyelle in 1687. He had taught theology at Salamanca for ten years, and had been a missionary for eleven. He is famous for his antagonism to the doctrine known as Probabilism, as he advocated Probabiliorism. Probabilism is that system of morals according to which, in every doubt that concerns merely the lawfulness or unlawfulness of an action, it is permissible to follow a solidly probable opinion, in favor of liberty, even though the opposing view is more probable. This freedom to act, however, does not hold when the validity of the sacraments, the attainment of an obligatory end, or the established rights of another are concerned. González maintained with considerable bitterness that, even apart from the three exceptions, it was permitted to follow only the more probable opinion--a doctrine which is now almost universally rejected.

During the Generalate of Oliva, González had written a book on the subject, which was twice turned down by all the censors; whereupon, he appealed to Pope Innocent XI in 1680 asking him to forbid the teaching of Probabilism. The Pope did not go so far, but he permitted it to be attacked. Of course, González strictly speaking had a right to appeal to the Sovereign Pontiff, but it was a most unusual performance for a Jesuit, especially as the doctrine in question was only a matter of opinion, with all the great authorities of the Society against him. It must have been with dismay that his brethren heard of his election as General by the thirteenth general congregation. It appears certain, says Brucker in his history of the Society (p. 529), that on the eve of the election the Pope expressed his opinion that González was the most available candidate. That evidently determined the suffrage, though González seems to have had no experience as an administrator.

One of the first things the general did was to start a campaign against the doctrines of Gallicanism, as formulated in the famous Assembly of 1682, which every one thought was already dead and buried. His friend, Pope Innocent XI, died in August, 1689, and his successor Alexander VIII ordered González to call in all the copies that had been printed. In 1691 González began to print his book which Oliva had formerly forbidden. It was run through the press in Germany without the knowledge of his assistants; copies appeared in 1694, and threw the Society into an uproar, especially as González's appeared on the title page as "Former Professor of Salamanca and actual General of the Society of Jesus." Nevertheless, at the general congregation which met in 1697 Father González was treated with the profoundest consideration. Not a word was uttered about his doctrine and assistants who were most acceptable to him were elected. Although a few more probabiliorists subsequently appeared, the Society, nevertheless, remained true to the teaching of Suárez, Lugo, Laymann, and their school.

A quarrel then arose between Don Pedro II of Portugal and Cardinal Conti, the papal nuncio, about the revenues of certain estates. The question was referred to González, who decided in favor of the Pope, whereupon Pedro's successor, John V, closed all the Jesuit novitiates in Portugal and banished some of the Fathers from the country. González died before this affair was settled. He passed away on October 27, 1705, in the eighty-fourth year of his age. He had been a Jesuit for sixty-three years, and during nineteen years occupied the post of General.

Father Michael Angelo Tamburini was the fourteenth General; his tenure of office extended from January 30, 1706, till his death on February 28, 1730. He was a native of Modena, and had filled several important offices with credit, before he was chosen to undertake the great responsibility of governing the entire Order, at the age of fifty-eight. The troubles in France were increasing. For although the implacable leaders of the Jansenist party, Arnauld and Nicole, had disappeared from the scene--Arnauld dying at Malines, a bitter old man of eighty-three, and Nicole soon following him to the grave--yet the antagonism created by them against the Society still persisted and was being reinforced by the atheists, who now began to dominate France.

Quesnel, who succeeded Arnauld and Nicole, wrote a book entitled "Moral Reflections on the New Testament", the style of which quite captivated de Noailles, Bishop of Châlons-sur-Marne, and without adverting to its Jansenism he gave it his hearty approval. Later however, when he became Archbishop of Paris, he condemned another Jansenist publication whose doctrine was identical with the one he had previously recommended; whereupon an anonymous pamphlet calling attention to the contradiction was published; in it the cardinal was made to appear in the very unpleasant attitude of stultifying himself in the eyes of the learned. He accused the Jesuits of the pamphlet, whereas, it was the work of their enemies, and was written precisely to turn him against the Society. The situation became worse when other members of the hierarchy began to comment on his approval of the Jansenistic publication, and he was exasperated to such an extent that he suspended every Jesuit in the diocese. The Jansenists were naturally jubilant over their success, and began to look forward hopefully to the approaching death of Louis XIV, who had never wavered in his defense of the Society. His successor, the dissolute Philip of Orléans, could be reckoned on as their aid, they imagined, but they were disappointed. He began by refusing their petition to revoke the university rights of the Jesuits and although he dissolved all the sodalities in the army, he lodged a number of Jansenists in jail for an alleged conspiracy against the government, a measure which they, of course, attributed to the machinations of the Society.

It was during this Generalate that the Paraguay missions reached their highest degree of efficiency. In a single year no fewer than seventy-seven missionaries left Europe to co-operate in the great work. Meantime, Francis Hieronymo and Anthony Baldinucci were astonishing Italy by their apostolic work, as was Manuel Padial in Spain--all three of whom were inscribed later on the Church's roll of honor. Finally, the canonization of Aloysius and Stanislaus Kostka along with the beatification of John Francis Régis put the stamp of the Church's most solemn approval on the Institute of Ignatius Loyola. Father Tamburini died at the age of eighty-two. He had lived sixty-five years as a Jesuit; and at his death, the Society had thirty-seven provinces with twenty-four houses of professed, 612 colleges, 340 residences, 59 novitiates, 200 mission stations, and 157 seminaries. Assuredly, it was doing something for the Church of God.

Francis Retz, a Bohemian, was the next General. His election, which took place on March 7, 1730, was unanimous; and his administration of twenty years gave the Society a condition of tranquillity such as it had never enjoyed in its entire history. Perhaps, however, there would have been a shade of sorrow if the future of one of the Jesuits of those days could have been foreseen. Father Raynal left the Society in 1747 and joined the Sulpicians. Subsequently he apostatized from the Faith, became the intimate associate of Rousseau, Diderot and other atheists and died at an advanced age apparently impenitent. Before Father Retz expired, two more provinces had been added to the thirty-seven already existing; the colleges had increased to 669; the seminaries to 176 and there were on the registers 22,589 members of whom 11,293 were already priests. During this period several great personages, who were to have much to do with the fortunes of the Society, began to assume prominence in the political world. They were Frederick the Great of Prussia, Maria Theresa of Austria, the Duc de Choiseul in France, and Carvalho, Marquis de Pombal in Portugal.

Eight months after the death of Father Retz which occurred on November 19, 1750, the Society chose for its General Ignatius Visconti, a Milanese. He was at that time sixty-nine years of age and survived only two years. He was succeeded by Father Louis Centurione, who, besides the burden of his seventy years of life, had to endure the pain of constant physical ailments. In two years time, on October 2, 1757, he breathed his last, and on the 21st of May following, Lorenzo Ricci was elected. According to Huonder, the choice was unanimous, but the digest of the nineteenth congregation states that he was elected by a very large majority.

Who was Ricci? He was a Florentine of noble blood, and was born on August 3, 1703. He was, therefore, fifty-three years of age when placed at the head of the Society, whose destruction he was to witness fifteen years later. From his earliest youth, he had attracted attention by his unusual intellectual ability as well as by his fervent piety. He had been professor of Rhetoric at the colleges of Siena and Rome to which only brilliant men were assigned, and at the end of his studies he was designated for what is called the "Public Act," that is to say an all-day defense of a series of theses covering the entire range of philosophy and theology. He subsequently taught theology for eleven years and was spiritual father at the Roman College. The latter office brought him in contact with the most distinguished prelates of the Church, who chose him as the guide of their consciences. In 1755 Father Centurione called him to the secretaryship of the Society, and he was occupying that post when elected General. The regret is very often expressed that a General of the stamp of Aquaviva was not chosen at that time; one who might have been equal to the shock that was to be met. Hence, the choice of a man who had never been a superior in any minor position is sometimes denounced as fatuous. One distinguished enemy is said to have exclaimed when he heard the result of the balloting: "Ricci! Ricci! Now we have them."

It must not, however, be forgotten that the battle which brought out Aquaviva's powers bears no comparison with that which confronted Father Ricci. Against Aquaviva were ranged only the Spanish Inquisition, a small number of recalcitrant Spanish Jesuits, and to a certain extent, Philip II. But in the first place, the Spanish Inquisition had no standing in Rome; in the second, the Jesuits who were in opposition had all of them a strain in their blood, which their fellow countrymen disliked; and, finally, though Philip II would have liked to have had his hand on the machinery of the Society he was at all times a staunch Catholic. Against this coalition, Aquaviva had with him as enthusiastic supporters all the Catholic princes of Germany and they contributed largely to his triumph. Father Ricci, on the contrary, found arrayed against the Society the so-called Catholic kings: Joseph I of Portugal; Charles III of Spain and Joseph II of Austria, all of them absolutely in the power of Voltairean ministers like Pombal, de Choiseul, Aranda, Tanucci and Kaunitz, who were in league, not only to destroy the Jesuits, but to wreck the Church. The suppression of the Society was only an incident in the fight; it had to be swept out of the way at any cost. A thousand Aquavivas would not have been able to avert it. Two Popes succumbed in the struggle.

Carayon, in his "Documents inédits," describes Father Ricci as "timid, shy, and lacking in initiative." Among the instances of his timidity, there is quoted his reprehension of Father Pinto, who had of his own accord asked Frederick II to pronounce himself as a defender of the Society. Of course, he was sternly reproved by Father Ricci and properly so, for one cannot imagine a more incongruous situation than that of the Society of Jesus on its knees to the half-infidel friend of Voltaire, entreating him to vouch for the virtue and orthodoxy of the Order. Frederick himself was very much amused by the proposition.

In any case, the fight was too far advanced to afford any hope of its being checked. Eight years before that time, Pombal had made arrangements with Spain to drive the Jesuits out of Paraguay, and had extorted from the dying Benedict XIV the appointment of Saldanha to investigate the Jesuits of Portugal. Indeed, it was soon discovered that Pombal's performances were only a part of the general plot to destroy the Society and the Church.

As soon as Benedict's successor ascended the papal throne, Father Ricci laid a petition before him representing the distress and injury inflicted on the Society by what was going on in Portugal. Crimes which had no foundation were attributed to it, and all of the Fathers, whether guilty or not, had been suspended from their priestly functions. The petition could not have been more humble or more just, but it brought down a storm on the head of Father Ricci. The sad feature of it was that, although it was intended to be an absolutely secret communication, it was immediately circulated with notes throughout Europe, and a fierce votum, or protest, was issued against it by Cardinal Passionei, who denounced it as an absolutely untruthful and subtle plea to induce the Holy Father to hand over the rest of his flock to the ferocious wolves (the Jesuits). The cardinal stated that the King of Portugal had complained of the Jesuits, and that Cardinal Saldanha was a person capable of obtaining the best information about the case, and was absolutely without bias or animosity for any party, besides being known for his ecclesiastical zeal and his submission to the head of the Church.

Far from being influenced by this utterance of Passionei, Pope Clement XIII appointed a congregation to examine the question; the report was favorable to the Society, so that Pombal was momentarily checked. On the other hand, it was very clear that the battle was not won. A false report of the proceedings of the congregation was published, and although the Pope ordered it to be burned by the public executioner, it was, nevertheless, an open proclamation that the enemies of the Society were willing to go to any lengths to gain their point. Portuguese gold flowed into Rome and Mgr. Bottari was employed to revive all the ancient calumnies against the Society. In a short time, he produced a work called "Reflections of a Portuguese on the Memorial presented to His Holiness Clement XIII by the Jesuits." When there was question of putting the book on the Index, Almada, the Portuguese ambassador declared that if such a proceeding were resorted to Portugal would secede from the Church. Furthermore, when the Papal Secretary of State, Achito, wrote a very mild and prudent letter to the nuncio in Lisbon, instructing him to let the king know that the petition of the Jesuits was very humble and submissive, he was denounced as issuing a declaration of war against Portugal. Meantime, the author of the "Reflections" continued to pour out other libellous publications in Rome itself, and Papal prohibitions were powerless to prevent him.

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XIII. CONDITIONS BEFORE THE CRASH

State of the Society--The Seven Years War--Political Changes-- Rulers of Spain, Portugal, Naples, France and Austria-- Febronius--Sentiments of the Hierarchy--Popes Benedict XIV; Clement XIII; Clement XIV.

Just before its suppression, the Society had about 23,000 members. It was divided into forty-two provinces in which there were 24 houses of professed fathers, 669 colleges, 61 novitiates, 335 residences and 273 mission stations. Taking this grand total in detail, there were in Italy 3,622 Jesuits, about one-half of whom were priests. They possessed 178 houses. The provinces of Spain had 2,943 members (1,342 priests) and 158 houses; Portugal, 861 members (384 priests), 49 houses; France, 3,350 members (1,763 priests), 158 houses; Germany, 5,340 members (2,558 priests), 307 houses; Poland, 2,359 members; Flemish Belgium, 542 members (232 priests), 30 houses; French Belgian, 471 members (266 priests), 25 houses; England, 274 members; and Ireland, 28. Their missions were in all parts of the world. In Hindostan, de Nobili, and de Britto's work was being carried on; in Madura, there were forty-seven missionaries. The establishments in Persia extended to Ispahan and counted 400,000 Catholics. Syria, the Levant and the Maronites were also being looked after. Although Christianity had been crushed as early as 1644, the name of the province of Japan was preserved, and in 1760 it counted fifty-seven members. There were fifty-four Portuguese Fathers attached to China at the time of the Suppression, and an independent French mission had been organized at Pekin with twenty-three members mostly priests. In South America, the whole territory had been divided into missions, and there were 445 Jesuits in Brazil, with 146 in the vice-province of Maranhão. The Paraguay province contained 564 members of whom 385 were priests; they had 113,716 Indians in their care. In Mexico, which included Lower California, there were 572 Jesuits, who were devoting themselves to 122,000 Indians. New Granada had 193 missionaries; Chili had 242; Peru, 526; and Ecuador, 209.

In the United States, they were necessarily very few, on account of political conditions. At the time of the Suppression, they numbered only nine, two of whom Robert Molyneux and John Bolton survived until the complete restoration of the Society. The French had missions in Guiana, Hayti and Martinique; and in Canada, the work inaugurated by Brébeuf among the Hurons, was kept up among the Iroquois, Algonquins, Abenakis, Crees, Ottawas, Miamis and other tribes in Illinois, Alabama and Lower Mississippi. At the time of the Suppression there were fifty-five Jesuits in Canada and Louisiana.

This world-wide activity synchronized with the Seven Years War, which was to change the face of the earth politically and religiously. The unscrupulous energy of Lord Clive had, previous to the outbreak of hostilities, given Bombay, Madras, Calcutta and the Carnatic to England. Before war had been proclaimed, Boscawen, who was sent to Canada, had captured two French warships and the feeble protest of France was answered by the seizure of three hundred other vessels, manned by 10,000 seamen and carrying cargoes estimated to be worth 30,000,000 francs. In 1757 Frederick the Great won the battle of Rosbach against the French; and in the same year triumphed over the imperial forces. In 1759 he defeated the Russians, only to meet similar reverses in turn; but in 1760 when all seemed lost, Russia withdrew from the fight and became Frederick's friend. In 1758 France scored some victories in Germany, but in 1762 was completely crushed and consented to what a French historian describes as "a shameful peace." Quebec fell in 1759, and Vaudreuil capitulated at Montreal in 1760.

Peace was finally made by the treaties of Paris and Hubertsburg in 1763, in virtue of which, France surrendered all her conquests of German territory as well as the Island of Minorca. In North America, she gave up Canada with its 60,000 French inhabitants. She also lost the River and Gulf of St. Lawrence, the valley of the Ohio, the left bank of the Mississippi, four islands in the West Indies, and her African trading-post of Senegal. In return, she received the Islands of Guadeloupe, Martinique, Marie-Galande, Désirade and St. Lucia. In Asia, she was granted Pondicherry, Chandernagor and other places, but was prohibited from fortifying them. Spain yielded Florida and Pensacola Bay to England, in order to recover Cuba and the Philippines; and after a while, France made her a present of Louisiana. Thus, New France was completely effaced from the map of America; and France proper, while losing almost all her other colonial possessions, saw her maritime power, her military prestige and her political importance disappear. She was now only in the second grade among the nations. On the same level stood Spain, while Portugal had long since ceased to count. Austria had declined and Protestant England and Prussia ruled, while schismatic Russia was looming up in the North.

In Spain, Charles III had succeeded to the throne in 1759. He had previously been King of Naples, where he had reigned not without honor. It is true he made the mistake of accepting Choiseul's "Family Compact" which united the fortunes of Spain with those of the degenerate Bourbons, but he is nevertheless credited with being paternal in his administrations and virtuous in his private life. Unfortunately while in Naples, he had chosen as his minister of finance, the Marquis de Tanucci, a Tuscan who had at an early stage inaugurated a contest with the Holy See on the right of asylum. "But one seeks in vain anything on which to build the exalted reputation which Tanucci enjoyed during life and which clung to him even after death. His financial system was false; for instead of encouraging the arts, perfecting agriculture, building roads, opening canals, establishing manufactures in the fertile country over which he ruled, he did nothing but make it bristle with custom-houses. Men of science, jurists, archæologists, literary and other distinguished men, he left in prison or allowed to starve" (Biographie universelle).

Tanucci's moral character may be inferred from the fact that when entrusted with the regency at Naples, he purposely neglected the education of the crown prince, keeping him aloof from political life, and giving him every opportunity to indulge his passions. He declared war against the Holy See; he restricted the ancient rights of the nuncios; diminished the number of bishoprics; suppressed seventy-eight monasteries; named one of his henchmen Archbishop of Naples, and forbade a ceremonial homage to be paid to the Pope which had been in use ever since the time of Charles of Anjou. He governed the Two Sicilies for fifty years and took with him to the grave the execration of the nobles and the hatred of the people of the Two Kingdoms. Duclos said of him "he was of all the men I ever knew the least fitted to govern."

The Spanish ministers were very numerous and very bad. There was Wall, whom Schoell described as Irish, whereas Ranke deprives him of that distinction by classing him among the political atheists of that time. Of Squillace, little is said except that he was a Neapolitan and probably belonged to one of the branches of the Borgia family. He is the individual whose legislation caused a burlesque disturbance in Madrid about cloaks and sombreros. The Jesuits were falsely accused of being the instigators of the riot and suffered for it in consequence. Finally, after many changes, there came the saturnine and self-sufficient Aranda, "who," says Schoell, "sniffed with pleasure the incense which the French Encyclopedists burned on his altar, and whose greatest glory was to be rated as one of the enemies of the altar and the throne." A former minister of Ferdinand V with the ominous title of the Duke of Alva was his intimate and shared his many schemes in fomenting anti-Jesuitism. Aranda is described as follows, by the Marquis de Langle in his "Voyage en Espagne" (I, 27): "He is the only Spaniard of our time whose name posterity can inscribe on its tablets. He is the man who wanted to cut in the façade of every temple and unite on the same shield the names of Luther, Calvin, Mahomet, William Penn and Jesus Christ; and to proclaim from the frontiers of Navarre to the straits of Cadiz, that Torquemada, Ferdinand and Isabella were blasphemers. He sold altar-furniture, crucifixes and candelabra for bridges, wine-shops and public roads."

In France, conditions were still worse. During a reign of fifty-six years, Louis XV trampled on all the decencies of public and private life. He was the degraded slave of Pompadour, a woman who dictated his policies, named his ministers, appointed his ambassadors, made at least one of his cardinals, and even directed his armies. Her power was so great that the Empress of Austria felt compelled to address her as "ma bonne amie." She was succeeded by du Barry who was taken from a house of debauch. The coarseness of this creature deprived her of much of the power possessed by her predecessor, except that Louis was her slave. It was Pompadour who brought Choiseul out of obscurity to reward him for revealing a plot to make one of his own cousins supplant her in her relations to the king. For that, he was made ambassador to Rome in 1754, where during the last illness of Benedict XIV, he was planning with other ambassadors to interpose the royal vetos in the election of Benedict's successor. Before that event, however, he was sent to Vienna, from which post, he rose successively until he had France completely in his grasp. The "Family Compact" or union of all the Bourbon princes, which was a potent instrument in the war against the Jesuits, was his conception. He was a friend of La Chalotais, one of the arch-enemies of the Society, and was an intimate of Voltaire, whose property at Ferney he exempted from taxation. The spirit of his religious policy consisted in what was then called "an enlightened despotism," or a systematic hatred of everything Christian.

Crétineau-Joly describes him as follows: "He was the ideal gentleman of the eighteenth century. He was controlled by its unbelief, its airs, its vanity, its nobility, its dissoluteness, insolence, courage, and by a levity which would have sacrificed the peace of Europe for an epigram. He was all for show; settling questions which he had merely skimmed over and sniffing the incense offered to him by the Encyclopedists, but shuddering at the thought that they might fancy themselves his teachers. He would admit no master either on the throne or below it. His life's ambition was to govern France and to apply to that sick nation the remedies he had dreamed would restore her to health. He could not do so except by winning public opinion, and for that purpose, he flattered the philosophers, captured the parliament, cringed to Madame de Pompadour and made things pleasant for the king. When he had gathered everyone on his side, he set himself to hunting the Jesuits."

On the throne of Portugal sat Joseph I, of whom, Father Weld in his "Suppression of the Society of Jesus" (p. 91) writes: "Joseph I united all those points of character which were calculated to make him a tool in the hands of a man who had the audacity to assume the command and astuteness to represent himself as a most humble and faithful servant. Timid and weak, like Louis XV, he was easily filled with fear for the safety of his own person, and, to a degree never reached by the French king, was incapable of exerting his own will when advised by any one who had succeeded in gaining his confidence. To this mental weakness, he also added the lamentable failing of being a slave to his own voluptuous passions. It required but little insight into human nature to see that a terrible scourge was in store for Portugal. To the evils of misrule, it pleased God to add other terrible calamities which overwhelmed the country in misery that cannot be described. The licentious habits of his father, John V had already impaired the national standard of morals. The nobility had ceased to visit their estates and had degenerated into a race of mere courtiers. The interests of the common people were neglected by the Government, and almost their only friends were the religious orders." (The Catholic Encyclopedia, XII, 304).

The real master of Portugal in those days was Don Sebastioa José Carvalho, better known as Pombal--the gigantic ex-soldier who, despite his herculean strength and reckless daring, was ignored when there was question of promotion. He left the army in disgust, and by the influence of the queen, Maria of Austria, and that of his uncle, the court chaplain, was sent as ambassador to London and then to Vienna. In both places he was a disastrous failure, probably on account of his brutal manners. Returning to Lisbon, he paid the most obsequious attention to churchmen, especially to the king's confessor, the Jesuit Carbone, who kept continually recommending him until John V bade him never to mention Carvalho's name. To the Marquis of Valenza, who also urged Carvalho's promotion, John said: "that man has hairs in his heart and he comes from a cruel and vindictive family." At the death of John and the retirement of the aged Motta, the former prime minister, the queen regent, who was fond of Carvalho's Austrian wife made Pombal prime minister: and Moreira, another Jesuit confessor, was insistent in proclaiming his wonderful ability. Never was departure from the principles and rules of the religious state by meddling with things outside the sphere of duty so terribly punished. Father Weld, however, when speaking of Moreira, who was a prisoner in Jonquiera, has a note which says that "Moreira protested to the end that he had never uttered a word in favor of Carvalho."

No sooner was Carvalho in power than the violence of his character began to display itself in the sanguinary measures he employed to suppress the brigandage that was rife in the country and even in the capital itself. The nobility, especially, were marked out for punishment; and when public criticism began to be heard, he issued furious edicts against the calumniators of the administration. He suppressed with terrible severity a rising at Porto against a wine-company which he had established there, and began a series of attacks on the most eminent personages of the kingdom. He dismissed in disgrace the minister of the navy, Diego de Mendoza; and de la Cerda, the ambassador to France; as well as John de Braganza, the Marquis of Marialva and many others. He gave the highest positions, ecclesiastical and political, to his relatives; forced the king to sign edicts without reading them, some of which made criticism of the government high treason, and he extended their application even to the ordinances of his minister; he silenced the preachers who spoke of public disasters as punishment of God; and forbade them to publish anything without his approbation. Though he reorganized the navy, he left the army a wreck, lest the nobles might control it. There was no public press in Portugal during his administration, and the mails were distributed only once a week. He encouraged commerce and organized public works, but always to enrich himself and his family. He flung thousands into prison without even the pretence of a trial, and at his downfall in 1782 says the "Encyclopédie catholique," "out of the subterraneous dungeons there issued eight hundred of his victims, the remnants of the nine thousand who had survived their entombment; and a government order was issued declaring that none of the victims living or dead had been guilty of the crimes imputed to them." This was the man who was declared by the Philosophers of the eighteenth century to be "the illuminator of his nation."

Nor was there much comfort to be hoped for in Austria. Maria Theresa was undoubtedly pious, kind hearted and devoted to her people, but as ruler is very much overrated. Her advisers were commonly the men who were plotting the ruin of all existing governments--Jansenists and Freethinkers. Even her court physicians were close allies of the schismatical Jansenist Archbishop of Utrecht, and they made liberal and constant use of the great esteem they enjoyed at Vienna to foment hostility to the Holy See. They even succeeded in persuading the empress, though they were only laymen, to appoint a commission for the reform of theological teaching in the seminaries; and one of their friends, de Stock, was appointed to direct the work. The Jesuits were removed from the professorships of divinity and canon law; lay professors were appointed in their stead by the politicians, in spite of the protests of the bishops; and books were published in direct opposition to orthodox teaching. At this time appeared the famous treatise known as "Febronius" by Hontheim, a suffragan bishop of Treves, who thus prepared for the coming of Joseph II. The universities were quickly infected with his doctrines; and new schools were established at Bonn and Münster out of the money of suppressed convents in order to accelerate the spread of the poison. When the University of Cologne protested, it was punished for its temerity.

It goes without saying that if Maria Theresa, with her strong Catholic instincts, was so easy to control, it was not difficult for the statesmen who governed France, Spain, Portugal and Italy to carry out their nefarious schemes against the Church. The Free-masons were hard at work, and immoral and atheistic literature was spread broadcast. It had already made ravages among the aristocracy and the middle classes, and now the grades below were being deeply gangrened. Cardinal Pacca writing about a period immediately subsequent to this, says: "In the time of my two nunciatures at Cologne and Lisbon, I had occasion to become acquainted with the greater part of the French émigrés, and I regret to say that, with the exception of a few gentlemen from the Provinces, they all made open profession of the philosophical maxims which had brought about the catastrophe of which they were the first victims. They admitted, at times, in their lucid moments, that the overturning of the altar had dragged down the throne; and that it was the pretended intellectuality of the Freethinkers that had introduced into the minds of the people the new ideas of liberty and equality, which had such fatal consequence for them. Nevertheless, they persisted in their errors and even endeavored to spread them both orally and by the most abominable publications. God grant that these seeds of impiety, flung broadcast on a still virgin soil, may not produce more bitter and more poisonous fruit for the Church and the Portuguese monarchy." The editor of the "Memoirs" adds in a note: "They have only too well succeeded in producing the fruit."

"I remember," continues Pacca, "that during my nunciature at Cologne, some of these distinguished "emigrés" determined to have a funeral service for Marie Antoinette, not out of any religious sentiment, but merely to conform to the fashion followed in the courts of Europe. I was invited and was present. The priest who sang the Mass preached the eulogy of the dead queen. In his discourse which did not lack either eloquence or solidity, he enumerated the causes of the French Revolution, and instanced chiefly the irreligious doctrines taught by the philosophy of the period. This undeniable proposition evoked loud murmurs of discontent in the congregation, which was almost exclusively composed of Frenchmen; and when the orator said that Marie Antoinette was one of the first victims of modern philosophy, a voice was heard far down in the church crying out in the most insulting fashion: 'That's not true.'" When laymen who professed to be Catholics were so blind to patent facts and would dare to conduct themselves so disgracefully in a church at a funeral service for their murdered queen, there was no hope of appealing to them to stand up for truth and justice in the political world.

The hierarchy throughout the Church was devoted to the Society, but it could only protest. And hence as soon as the first signs appeared of the determination to destroy the Order, letters and appeals, full of tender affection and of unstinted praise for the victims, poured into Rome from bishops all over the world. There were at least two hundred sent to Clement XIII, but many of them were either lost or purposely destroyed, as soon as the great Pontiff breathed his last. Father Lagomarsni found many of them which he intended to publish but, for one reason or another, did not do so.

Some of these papers, however have been reproduced by de Ravignan, in his "Clément XIII et Clément XIV." They fill more than a hundred pages of his second volume, and he chose only those that came from the most important sees in the Church, such as the three German Archbishoprics of Treves, Cologne and Mayence, whose prelates were prince electors of the empire. There are also appeals from Cardinal Lamberg the Prince-Bishop of Passau, from the Primate of Germany, the Archbishop of Salzburg, the Primates of Bohemia, of Hungary, and of Ireland. The Archbishop of Armagh says "he lived with the Jesuits from childhood, and loved and admired them." There are letters from the Cardinal Archbishop of Turin; the Archbishops of Messina, Monreale, Sorrento, Seville, Compostella, Tarragona, and even from the far north,--from Norway and Denmark, where the vicar-Apostolic begs the Pope to save those distant countries from the ruin which will certainly fall on them if the Jesuits are withdrawn. They are all dated between the years 1758 and 1760. The Polish Bishop of Kiew begs the Pope to stand "like a wall of brass" against the enemies of the Society, which he calls a religiosissimus cætus. For the Bishops of Lombez, it is the dilectissima Societas Jesu, quæ concussa, confugit in sinum nostrum--"the most beloved Society of Jesus which, when struck, rushed to our arms." The Bishop of Narbonne declares: "It is known and admitted through all the world that the Society of Jesus, which is worthy of all respect, has never ceased to render services to the Church in every part of the world. There never was an order whose sons have fulfilled the duties of the sacred ministry with more burning, pure and intelligent zeal. Nothing could check their zeal; and the most furious storm only displayed the constancy and solidity of their virtue." Du Guesclin denounces the persecution as "atrocious; the like of which was never heard of before." "I omit," says the Archbishop of Auch, "an infinite number of things which redound to their praise." The Bishop of Malaga recalls how Clement VIII described them as "the right arm of the Holy See." The Archbishop of Salzburg bitterly resents "the calumnious and defamatory charges against them." And, so, in each one of these communications to the Holy Father, there is nothing but praise for the victims and indignant denunciations of their executioners.

The three Pontiffs who occupied the Chair of St. Peter at that period were Benedict XIV, Clement XIII and Clement XIV. Benedict died on May 3, 1758, eighteen days before Father Ricci was elected General. Clement XIII was the ardent defender of the Society during the ten stormy years of his pontificate; and finally Clement XIV yielded to the enemy and put his name to the Brief which legislated the Order out of existence.

Perhaps there never was a Pope who enjoyed such universal popularity as the brilliant Benedict XIV. His attractive personality, his great ability as a writer, his readiness to go to all lengths in the way of concession, elicited praise even from heretics, Turks and unbelievers. As regards his attitude to the Society, there can be no possible doubt that he entertained for it not only admiration, but great affection. He had been a pupil in its schools, and had always shown its members the greatest honor. He defended it against its enemies, and lavished praise again and again on the Institute. It is true that he re-affirmed the Bulls of his predecessor condemning the Malabar and Chinese Rites, but he denied indignantly that he was thereby explicitly condemning the Jesuits. It is also true that he appointed Saldanha, at the request of Pombal, to investigate the Jesuit houses in Portugal; but in the first place, that permission was wrung from him when he was a dying man; and there is no doubt whatever that in doing so, he was convinced that the concession would propitiate Pombal and not injure the Jesuits, whose conduct he knew to be without reproach. Moreover, he had put as a proviso in the Brief that Saldanha who, though the Pope was unaware of it, was an agent of Pombal, should not publish any grievous charge if any such were to be formulated, but should refer it to Rome for judgment. Finally, as the Brief was signed on April 1, 1758, and as the Pope died on May 3, Saldanha's powers ceased. That however, did not trouble him and he did everything that Pombal bade him to do, to defame and destroy the Society. He was not Benedict's agent.

Far from being prejudiced against the Society, Benedict XIV did nothing but bestow praise on it during all his long pontificate. In 1746 in the Bull "Devotam," he says that "it has rendered the greatest services to the Church and has ever been governed with as much success as prudence." In 1748 the "Præclairs" declared that "these Religious are everywhere regarded as the good odor of Jesus Christ, and are so in effect," and, in the same year, the Bull "Constantem" affirmed that "they give to the world examples of religious virtue and profound science." Benedict died in the arms of the Jesuit, Father Pepe, his confessor and friend.

Clement XIII, whose name was Carlo della Torre Rezzonico, was born at Venice, March 7, 1693; after studying with the Jesuits at Bologna, he was appointed referendary of the tribunal known as the Segnatura di Giustizia, and later became Governor of Rieti, cardinal-deacon and in 1743 Bishop of Padua. He was called a saint by his people; in spite of the vast revenues of his diocese, he was always in want for he gave everything to the poor, even the shirt on his back. On July 5, 1758, he was elected Pope to succeed Benedict XIV. The first shock he received as head of the Church was in 1758 from Pombal, who insulted him by sending back an extremely courteous letter which the Pontiff had written in answer to a demand for leave to punish three Jesuits who happened to know a nobleman against whom a charge had been lodged of attempting to assassinate the king. Pombal followed up the outrage by flinging all the exiled Jesuits on the Papal States; and then, in 1760, by dismissing the Papal ambassador from Lisbon. In 1761 Pope Clement wrote to Louis XV of France, imploring him to stop the proceedings against the Jesuits: in 1762 he protested against the proposed suppression of the Society in France; and in 1764 he denounced the government programme which he declared was an assault upon the Church itself.

Spain was guilty of the next outrage when, in 1767, Charles III imitated Pombal by expelling the Jesuits and deporting them to Civita Vecchia: and then refusing to answer a letter of the Pope who asked for an explanation of the proceeding. Naples and Parma insulted him in a similar fashion. And to add injury to outrage, the Bourbon coalition seized the Papal possessions of Avignon and Venaissin in France, and Benevento and Montecorvo in Italy. Finally, when Spain, France and Naples sent him a joint note demanding the universal suppression of the Society, he died of grief on February 3, 1769. He was then seventy-five years old, and had governed the Church for ten years, six months and twenty-six days. Canova, one of the last of the Jesuit pupils, built his monument, putting at the feet of the Pontiff two lions--one asleep, the other erect and ready for the combat. It was a representation in the mind of the sculptor portraying the meekness of Clement, combined with an indomitable courage which defied the kings of Europe who were attacking the Church.

De Ravignan says of him: "Not because I am a Jesuit, but independently of that affiliation, I regard Clement XIII as endowed with the most genuine traits of grandeur and glory that ever shone in the most illustrious popes. He brings back to me the lineaments of Innocent III, of Gregory VII, of Pius V, of Clement XI. Like them he had to fight; like them he had to face the powers of earth in league against the Church; like them he knew how to unite the most inflexible firmness with the most patient moderation. Alone, as it were, in the midst of a Christendom that was conspiring against the Chair of Peter, he suffered and moaned, but he fought. He was not a politician; he was a Pope. As a worthy successor of St. Peter, he stood solidly on the indestructible rock. Always in the presence of God and his duty, when every earthly interest and when the most appealing entreaties seemed to suggest to him to be silent and to yield basely, he heard within his soul the strong voice of the Church, which can never relinquish the rights with which heaven has invested it; and neither threats, nor outrages, nor spoliations nor sacrilegious assaults availed to bend his resolution to resist, or induced him to display any suspicion of feebleness for a single instant. Until he died, Clement fulfilled the august mission of a Supreme Pontiff. He fought for the Church though it cost him his life. His death was really that of a martyr."

The successor of Clement XIII was not so heroic. He was Lorenzo or Giovanni Antonio Ganganelli. He was born at Sant' Archangelo near Rimini on October 31, 1705; and received his education from the Jesuits at Rimini and from the Piarists at Urbano. At the age of nineteen, he entered the order of the Minor Conventuals, and changed his baptismal name of Giovanni to Lorenzo. His talents and virtue raised him to the dignity of definitor generalis of his order in 1741. Benedict XIV made him consultor of the Holy Office, and Clement XIII gave him the cardinal's hat at the instance, it is said, of Father Ricci, the General of the Jesuits. On May 18, 1769, he was elected Pope by 46 out of 47 votes. By eliminating a great number of possible cardinals, the veto power of the Catholic kings had restricted the choice of a Pope to four out of the forty-seven in the Sacred College. In the beginning of his career, Ganganelli was extremely favorable to the Jesuits: but when he was made a cardinal, a change of disposition manifested itself, although in giving him the honor, Clement XIII had said that he was "a Jesuit in the disguise of a Franciscan." Once on the Papal throne, he refused even Father Ricci an audience, possibly through fear of the Great Powers; for, before Clement's accession the work of the destruction had already begun, and the new Pope found himself in the centre of a whirlwind. It was now clear that the Society could never weather the storm.

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