The Jesuits, 1534-1921

This incident also disposes of the hallucination that Jesuits are all run in the same mould and hence easily recognizable as members of the Order. This is far from being the case. It is true that as the Society is governed to a certain extent on military principles, cheerful and prompt obedience is its characteristic. The General is supreme commander and is in touch with every member of the organization; he can tell in a moment where the individual is, what he is doing and what are his good qualities and defects. He can assign him to any country or any post; refusal to obey is absolutely out of the question. Such is the special trait of the Society, but apart from this, it is an aggregation of as disparate units as can possibly be imagined. Men of all races, conditions, dispositions, aspirations and attainments, Americans, English, French, Italian, Spanish, Syrians, Hungarians, Hindoos, Chinese, Japanese, Malgache, and others live in the same house, follow the same rules, and maintain absolute peace with each other. All infractions of brotherly love are frowned upon and severely punished, and continued dissension or rebellion means expulsion. These men, from the highest to the lowest, do not shirk danger – like genuine soldiers they covet it; nor are they depressed by the repeated exiles, expulsions, spoliations and persecutions, to which the Society has been always subject. Taught by experience of the past, they know that they will emerge from the struggle stronger and better than before and will win further distinction in the battle for God.

CHAPTER IV

CONSPICUOUS PERSONAGES

Ignatius – Laínez – Borgia – Bellarmine – Toletus – Lessius – Maldonado – Suárez – Lugo – Valencia – Petavius – Warsewicz – Nicolai – Possevin – Vieira – Mercurian.

St. Ignatius died on July 31, 1556. During his brief fifteen years as General, he had seen some of his sons distinguishing themselves in one of the greatest councils of the Church; others turning back the tide of Protestantism in Germany and elsewhere; others again, winning a large part of the Orient to the Faith; and still others reorganizing Catholic education throughout regenerated Europe, on a scale that was bewildering both in the multitude of the schools they established and the splendor of their success. Great saints were being produced in the Society and also outside of it through its ministrations. Meantime, its development had been so great that the little group of men which had gathered around him a few years before had grown to a thousand, with a hundred establishments in every part of the world.

Magnificent as was this achievement he did not allow it to reflect any glory upon himself personally. On the contrary, he withdrew more and more from public observation, and devoted to the establishment of his multiplied and usual charities, among the humblest and most abandoned classes of the city of Rome, what time was left him from the absorbing care of directing, advising, exhorting and inspiring his sons who were scattered over the earth in ever changing and dangerous situations. The palaces of the great rarely, if ever, saw him, and he was the most positive and persistent antithesis of what he is so commonly accused of being: a schemer, a plotter, a politician, a poisoner of public morality and the like. Nor was he seeking to exercise a dominating influence either in the Church or State, as he is calumniously charged with doing. The glory of God and the advancement of the spiritual kingdom on earth was his only thought, and so far was he from imagining that the Society was an essential factor in the Church's organization that he did not hesitate to say that if it were utterly destroyed, or as he expressed it, "if it were to dissolve like salt in water," a quarter of an hour's recollection in God would have been sufficient to console him and restore peace to his soul, provided the disaster had not been brought about by his fault.

He was not, as he has often been charged with being, stern, severe, arbitrary, harsh, tyrannical; on the contrary, his manner was most winning and attractive. He was fond of flowers; music had the power of making him forget the greatest bodily pain, and the stars at night filled his soul with rapturous delight. He would listen with infinite patience to the humblest and youngest person, and every measure of importance before being put into execution was submitted to discussion by all who had any concern in it. He would show intense and outspoken indignation, it is true, at flagrant faults and offences, especially if committed by those who were in authority in the Society; his wrath, however, was vented not against the culprit, but against the fault. Moreover, while reprehending, he kept his feelings under absolute control. Indeed, his longanimity in the cases both of Rodriguez and Bobadilla is astounding, and it is very doubtful if St. Francis Xavier, whom he wanted to be his successor, would have been as tolerant or as gentle. In his directions for works to be undertaken he was not meticulous nor minute, but left the widest possible margin for personal initiative; nor would he tolerate an obedience that was prompted by servile fear. He continually insisted that the only motive of action in the Society was love of God and the neighbor.

The gentle Lionel Johnson, poet though he was, gives us a fairly accurate appreciation of the character of Saint Ignatius. "In the Saints of Spain," he says, "there is frequently prominent the feature of chivalry. Even the great Saint James, apostle and Patriarch of Spain, appears in Spanish tradition and to Spanish imagination as an hidalgo, a knight in gleaming mail who spurs his white war horse against the Moor. And of none among them is this more true than of the founder of the Society of Jesus. Cardinal Newman, describing him in his most famous sermon, finds no phrase more fitting than 'the princely patriarch, St. Ignatius, the Saint George of the modern world with his chivalrous lance run through his writhing foe.' He was ever a fighter, a captain-general of men, indomitable, dauntless. The secret of his character lies in his will; in its disciplined strength; its unfailing practicality; its singleness and its power upon other wills. It was hardly a Franciscan sweetness that won to him his followers who from the famous six at Montmartre grew so swiftly into a great band; it was not supremacy of intellect or of utterance; it was not even the witness of his intense devotion and self-denial. It was his unequalled precision and tenacity of purpose; it was his will and its method. But we can detect no trace of that proud personal ambition and imperiousness often ascribed to him. He simply had learned a way of life that was profitable to religion which was all in all to him, and he could not be lukewarm in its service. Noblesse oblige, and a Christian holds a patent from the King of kings. The Jesuit A. M. D. G. was his ruling principle. The former heroic soldier of Spain was still a soldier, a swordsman, a strategist, but in a holy war. His eyes were always turned towards the battle; but he was far from forbidding, harsh, grim. He was tender and stern and like Dante kept his thoughts fixed on the mysteries of good and evil."

His death was in keeping with his life. There was no show, no ostentation, nothing "dramatic" about it, as Henri Joly imagines in his "Psychologie des Saints." There was no solemn gathering of his sons about his bedside, no parting instruction or benediction, as one would have expected from such a remarkable man who had established a religious order upon which the eyes of the world were fixed. He was quite aware that his last hour had come, and he simply told Polanco, his secretary, to go and ask for the Pope's blessing. As the physicians had not said positively that there was any immediate danger, Polanco inquired if he might defer doing so for the moment, as there was something very urgent to be attended to; whereupon the dying Saint made answer: "I would prefer that you should go now, but do as seems best." These were his last words. He left no will and no instructions, and what is, at first, incomprehensible, he did not even ask for Extreme Unction – possibly because he was aware that the physicians disagreed about the seriousness of his malady, and he was unwilling to discredit any of them; possibly, also, he did so in order to illustrate the rule that he laid down for his sons "to show absolute obedience in time of sickness to those who have care of the body." When at last they saw that he was actually dying someone ran for the holy oils, but Ignatius was already in his agony.

For one reason or another, he had not designated the vicar, who, according to the Constitution, was to govern the Society, until a General was regularly elected. Hence, as the condition of the times prevented the assembling of the professed from the various countries of Europe, the fathers who were in Rome elected Laínez. He, therefore, summoned the congregation for Easter, 1557, but it happened just then that Philip II and the Pope were at odds with each other, and no Spaniard was allowed to go to Rome. Because of that, Borgia, Araoz and others sent in a petition for the congregation to meet at Barcelona. This angered the Pope, and he asked Laínez, who put the case before him: "Do you want to join the schism of that heretic Philip?" Nevertheless, when the papal nuncio at Madrid supported the request of the Spanish Jesuits, his holiness relented somewhat, and said he would think of it.

The situation was critical enough with a Pope who was none too friendly, when something very disedifying and embarrassing occurred. The irrepressible Bobadilla who had not only voted for the election of Laínez as vicar, but had served under him for a year, suddenly discovered that the whole previous proceeding was invalid, and he pretended, that, because St. Ignatius had failed to name a vicar, the government of the Society devolved on the general body of the professed. The matter was discussed by the Fathers and he was overruled, but he still persisted and demanded the decision of Carpi, the cardinal protector of the Society. When that official heard the case, he decided against Bobadilla who forthwith appealed to the Pope. This time the Cardinal assigned to investigate was no other than the future St. Pius V. He took in the situation at a glance and dismissed Bobadilla almost with contempt. There was another offender, Cogordan, who does not appear to have objected to Laínez personally but who sent a written communication to his holiness saying that Laínez and some others really wanted to go to Spain, so as to be free from Roman control. This so incensed the Pope that Laínez, though greatly admired by Paul IV, obtained an audience only with the greatest difficulty, and was then ordered to hand over the Constitutions for examination. Fortunately, the same holy Inquisitor was sent, and Cogordan never forgot the lesson he received on that occasion for daring to suggest such a thing about Laínez. In the meantime, Philip had allowed the Spanish Jesuits to go to Rome, and Laínez was elected General on July 2, 1558. As has been said in speaking of Rodriguez, this incident is another illustration of the tremendous difficulty of the task St. Ignatius undertook when he gathered around him those unusually brilliant men, who were accustomed to take part in the diets of the Empire, to be counsellors of princes and kings and even popes. He proposed to make them all, as he said "think the same thing according to the Apostle." He succeeded ultimately.

The splendid work performed by Laínez at the Council of Trent had naturally made him a prominent figure in the Church at that time. Personally, also he was most acceptable to the reigning Pontiff, Paul IV; nevertheless, owing to outside pressure, there was imminent danger on several occasions of serious changes being made in the Constitutions of the Society. The Pope had been dissuaded from urging most of them, but he refused to be satisfied on one point, namely the recitation of the Divine Office. He insisted that it must be sung in choir, as was the rule in other religious orders. Laínez had to yield, and for a time the Society conformed to the decision, but the Pope soon died, and in the course of a year, his successor, Pius IV, declared the order to be merely the personal wish of his predecessor and not a decree of the Holy See.

During this generalate there were serious troubles in various parts of Europe. Thus, in Spain, when Charles V withdrew into the solitude of Yuste he was very anxious to have as a companion in retirement his friend of many years, Francis Borgia. It was hard to oppose the expressed wish of such a potentate as Charles, but Laínez succeeded, and Borgia continued to exercise his great influence in Spain to protect his brethren in the storm which was then raging against them. There were troubles, also, throughout Italy. A veritable persecution had started in Venice; an attempt was made to alienate St. Charles Borromeo in Milan; in Palermo, the rector of the college was murdered. The General himself had to go to France to face the enemies of the Faith at the famous Colloquy of Poissy; Canisius was continuing his hard fight in Germany; there were the martyrdoms of two Jesuits in India where, as in Brazil, the members of the Society were displaying the sublimest heroism in the prosecution of their perilous missionary work.

Laínez died in 1565, and was succeeded by Francis Borgia, who for many years had been the most conspicuous grandee of Spain. He was Marquis of Lombay, Duke of Gandia, and for three years had filled the office of Viceroy of Catalonia. His intimacy with the Emperor Charles V, apart from his great personal qualities, naturally resulted in having every honor showered upon him. Astrain, in his history of the Society in Spain, notes the difference in the point of view from which the Borgia family is regarded by Spaniards and by other mortals. The former always think of the saintly Francis, the latter see only Alexander VI. It is not surprising, however, for it is one of the weaknesses of humanity to exult in its glories and to be blind to its defects. Francis Borgia was the great-grandson of Alexander on the paternal, and of King Ferdinand on the maternal, side; there are, however, bar sinisters on both descents that are not pleasant to contemplate, and Suau says, "he was unfortunate in his ancestry."

Born on October 28, 1510, Borgia began his studies at Saragossa, interrupting them for a short space to be the page of the Infanta Catarina, daughter of Joanna the Mad. At eighteen, he was one of the brilliant figures of the court of Charles V. At nineteen, he married Eleanor de Castro, who belonged to the highest nobility of Portugal, and at that time he was made Marquis of Lombay. When he was twenty-eight, the famous incident occurred, which has been made the subject of so much oratorical and pictorial exaggeration – his consternation at the sight of the corrupting remains of the beautiful Empress Isabella, and his resolution to abandon the court and the world forever. Astrain in speaking of this event merely says: "he was profoundly moved;" Suau, in his "Histoire de Saint François de Borgia," makes no mention of any perturbation of mind and ascribes Borgia's vocation rather to subsequent events. The Bollandists do not vouch for the story of his consternation, but note that he was the only one who dared to approach the coffin, the others keeping aloof on account of the odor. They add that his biographers make him say: "Enough has been given to worldly princes." As a matter of fact, later on, he willingly accepted the office of major domo to Prince Philip, who was about to marry the Infanta of Portugal. As the King and Queen of Portugal, however, refused to accept him in that capacity, he was simply disgraced in the eyes of all diplomatic Europe and was compelled to keep out of the court of his own sovereign, for three whole years. "This and other serious trials, at that period," says Suau, "probably developed in him the work of sanctification begun at Granada."

Borgia was thirty-six years of age when his wife died in 1546, and he then consulted Father Faber, who happened to be in Spain at the time, about the advisability of entering a religious order. He made the Spiritual Exercises under Oviedo, and determined to enroll himself as one of the members of the Compañía founded by Ignatius, with whom he had been for some time in communication. He was accepted and given three years to settle his worldly concerns. By a special rescript, the Pope allowed him to make his vows of profession immediately. In January, 1550, he was allowed to present himself for ordination to the priesthood whenever he found it feasible. On August 20 of the same year, he obtained the degree of doctor of theology and ten days later, set out for Rome with a small retinue. Accompanying him were nine Jesuits, among whom was Father Araoz, the provincial. In every city he was officially received, the nobility going out to meet him at Rome. He was sumptuously lodged in the Jesuit house, part of which St. Ignatius had fitted up at great expense to do honor to the illustrious guest. Soon, however, it was rumored that he was to be made a cardinal, whereupon he took flight, making all haste for Spain, without any of the splendor or publicity which had surrounded him three months before. His only purpose was to escape observation. Arriving in Spain, he visited Loyola, the birthplace of Ignatius, and then fixed his residence at the hermitage of Oñate, where, after receiving the Emperor's leave, he renounced all his honors and possessions in favor of his son Charles. He was ordained priest on May 23, 1551.

After six months spent in evangelizing the Basques, Borgia was sent to Portugal to put an end to the troubles caused by Simon Rodriguez, but did not reach that country until 1553. Meantime, sad to say, Father Araoz astounded every one by displaying an intense jealousy of Borgia, who had been made independent of all superiors except Ignatius himself, and he demanded that his former friend and benefactor should show himself less in public and give evidence of greater humility. His complaints were incessant, and unfortunately an accidental unpopularity involving the whole Borgia family which just then supervened gave some color to the charges. In the meanwhile the Pope had again insisted on bestowing the cardinalitial honor upon Borgia, and for a moment Nadal, the Commissary General of Spain, was afraid that it might be accepted, not out of any ambition on the part of Francis, but because of his profound reverence for the will of the Sovereign Pontiff, especially as he had not as yet pronounced the simple vow of the professed against the reception of ecclesiastical dignities. Whereupon, Ignatius sent an order for him to make the vow, and from that forward his conscience was at rest on the question of running counter to the desires of the Pope.

In 1554 he was made commissary general in place of Nadal, who had been summoned to Rome to assist Ignatius, now in feeble health. The appointment of Borgia to such a post was most extraordinary for the reason that he had been but such a short time in the Society, and had never been in a subordinate position. The difficulty of his task was augmented by the fact that he had been commissioned to divide the Spanish section of the Society into four distinct provinces, and to assume, in this and other matters the duties and functions of an office which had no defined limitations, and which would inevitably bring him into conflict with other superiors. As a matter of fact, the commissariate was such a clumsy contrivance that it had soon to be done away with.

Araoz had previously been at odds with Nadal, but he found it still more difficult to get along with Borgia. This disedifying antagonism continued for some time, and it is said that the old worldly superiority of the viceroy showed itself occasionally in Borgia. His dictatorial methods of government, his resentment of interference with his plans, even when Nadal spoke to him, showed that he was not yet a Jesuit saint. As if he still possessed unlimited revenues he established no less than twenty new houses; and, when there were not sufficient resources to carry them on, he expected his subjects to live in a penury that was incompatible with general content and fatal to the existence of the institutions. Moreover, his old propensity for great mortifications manifested itself to such an extent that there was danger of the Jesuits under him becoming Carthusian in their mode of life. Indeed, he was of opinion that the old monastic prison and stocks should be introduced into the Society, and he sent a postulatum or petition to that effect to the congregation which elected Laínez. The result was that a spirit of revolt began to manifest itself in Spain, and Nadal, who was temporarily there, was happy when recalled to Rome.

How all this can be reconciled with the admittedly remarkable prudence of St. Ignatius and his profound knowledge of the character of those he had to deal with is difficult to say. Had he perhaps received some divine intimation of what Borgia was yet to be? On the other hand, it must be borne in mind that these isolated instances of impatience, authoritativeness, resentment and the like, naturally attract more attention when seen in one who is possessed of brilliant qualities than they would in any ordinary personage. Moreover, they occurred only in his dealings with Jesuits of the same official standing, and were never remarked when he had to treat with the rank and file who were entrusted to his care and guidance. They were, in any case, faults of judgment and not of perversity of will. Indeed so intent was he on acquiring the virtue of obedience that he fell into a state of almost despondency and distress when he was warned that Ignatius would disapprove of his methods and measures. Finally, he was then only on the way to sanctity; he had not yet achieved it.

It must be confessed, however, that Nadal was not at all pleased with the attitude of Borgia and the other Spanish Jesuits, when the call for the election of a new general was issued. He fancied that it was the beginning of a schism. When, as previously pointed out, Philip II allowed the Spanish delegates to go to the congregation, Borgia, remained in Spain. The fear of the red hat still haunted him. The famous postulatum about the prison and stocks which he sent to the congregation was, of course, promptly rejected. Borgia, however, had other reasons not to go to Rome. Several Spanish cities were up in arms against the Society; he himself was assailed openly in church by Melchior Cano; a book he had written or was accused of having written was condemned by the Inquisition, and he expected momentarily to be arrested; evil things were also said about his character. Unfortunately, Araoz took advantage of all this and began to pen a series of denunciatory letters to the General against Borgia, and, though he was rebuked for them and made public reparation for his offense, he soon relapsed into his customary antagonism. To put an end to it all Laínez summoned Borgia to Rome and conferred on him the honor of assistant. Even that lesson Araoz failed to take to heart.

Francis reached Rome only in 1561. In the following year when Laínez had to attend the re-opened Council of Trent, he made Borgia vicar general, and, when Laínez died at the age of fifty-three in January, 1565, the congregation which was convened in July of that year elected Borgia in his place. At the same time stringent laws were enacted against the hasty multiplication of houses and the inevitable lack of formation which ensued. This was a notice served on the new General to control his zeal in that direction. Borgia instituted novitiates in every province; he circulated the book of Exercises and laid down rules for common life, which on account of the enormous growth of the Society had now become a matter of primary importance. Instead of showing any proneness to the eremitical life or wishing to impose it on the Society, he gave an example of immense and intense activity in public matters. Thus he had much to do with the revision of the Bible, the translation of the "Catechism" of the Council of Trent; the foundation of Propaganda; and, omitting other instances of his administrative ability, when the plague broke out in Rome in 1566, he so successfully organized the financial and medical machinery of the city that two years afterwards, when the plague appeared again, all the public funds were immediately placed in his hands.