The Jesuits, 1534-1921

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.

CHAPTER 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 400,00 °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.

CHAPTER XIV

POMBAL

Early life – Ambitions – Portuguese Missions – Seizure of the Spanish Reductions. Expulsion of the Missionaries – End of the Missions in Brazil – War against the Society in Portugal – The Jesuit Republic – Cardinal Saldanha – Seizure of Churches and Colleges – The Assassination Plot – The Prisons – Exiles – Execution of Malagrida.

The first conspirator who set to work to carry out the plot to destroy the Society, which had long been planned by the powers, was, as might be expected, the ruthless Pombal. He was more shameless and savage than his associates and would adopt any method to accomplish his purpose. The insensate fury which possessed his whole being against the Society is explained by Cardinal Pacca, who was Papal nuncio in Lisbon shortly after Pombal's fall (Notizie sul Portogallo, 10). He writes: "Pombal began his diplomatic career in Germany where he probably drank in those principles of aversion to the Holy See and the religious orders, which, when afterwards put in practice, merited for him from the irreligious philosophers the title of a great minister, and an illuminator of his nation; from good people, however, that of a vile instrument of the sects at war with the Church. Having obtained the office of prime minister, he made himself master of the mind of the king, Don Joseph; and for a quarter of a century governed the kingdom as a despot.