The Black Pope – By M. F. Cusack
CHAPTER IV. The Making of the Jesuit.
Contents
WHEN the extraordinary rules which govern the order of Jesuits have been studied, even in the barest outline, and their peculiar characteristics understood in some degree, the question may be asked naturally, what motive could induce those who are still in the vigour of manhood, if not in the very buoyancy of youth, to bind themselves to such a mode of life? In studying such subjects we can best succeed in obtaining the explanation which we desire, by realising that whether we approve or disapprove, thousands of our fellow beings sincerely believe what we disbelieve and what we consider morally wrong. They act on principles, and from motives, which are altogether foreign to us even if they are not absolutely repugnant. We must try to understand the motives which influence them, and look at them from their point of view, if we would know why they think as they do, and why that which is so repugnant to us seems to them an act of the highest virtue.
A long and exceptionally intimate acquaintance with the deepest feelings of those who have held the most widely opposite views on religious questions must certainly lead to toleration. But toleration is something very different from condoning evil. Unfortunately for the cause of truth, there are, and no doubt always will be, a certain class who are not capable of considering any subject from any stand point but their own, hence they rarely win souls from error, and such persons naturally misjudge those who have larger and more Christian views.
We who rejoice in the liberty with which Christ has made us free, may find it difficult to understand the bondage of evil, but this bondage has been the unhappy birthright of thousands who believe in it, and glory in it as we do in our freedom. It requires, then, no common faith and love to reach such souls, and we can do so best by giving them credit for their sincerity, while we strive with all patience and charity to lead them into the light.
Jesuit Colleges.
When studying the characteristics of the Order we should remember that like all other institutions it is composed of units, and that each unit is equally necessary to the formation of the whole body. We shall therefore take a unit and follow the line of thought and indicate the motives which induce a youth to enter such institutions. When we come to treat of the Jesuit colleges and their mode of instruction, whether religious or secular, we shall find on their own authority that the heads of these colleges make use of a system of espionage which they have elevated to a fine art. One object of this is to secure for themselves those of their pupils who give the best promise of being useful members of the Order. Here we have at once one reason why the Jesuit devotes himself to the education of youth. We have already mentioned the special qualifications which the founder of the Order considered most necessary for those whom he desired to join his institute. Talent was to be preferred to piety, or moral qualifications, and the permission which he obtained to receive and even to advance to the priesthood, those who for moral reasons were universally rejected by other orders, is an evidence that his object was success at any price.
How Youths are Won for the Order.
The youths thus selected received special attention, both in regard to their studies and their conduct. The parents of these youths were never informed, until the last moment, what had been arranged for their sons. The boys themselves were kept in ignorance, until some supreme moment in their religious training, when it became necessary that they should assent to the suggestions of their confessor. If they had known the object in view too soon, they might have been induced to offer some opposition by those of their companions who were less devout, or less amenable to discipline. If they had known that they were being trained for a certain end, they might have resented the training. The Jesuit masters have all the advantage on their side, and their pupils for all practical purposes are at their mercy. In all such cases the first object would be to impress the mind of the youth with the great honour which was conferred on those who were chosen by the Society. The young are easily fired with ambition by hearing of the deeds of heroes, especially when the hero is highly commended by those to whom they naturally look up with respect. The youth begins to think how glorious it would be if he too might one day be spoken of as this hero has been, and thus the first idea germinates.
Let it be added to this that the youth who are under Jesuit training are inspired with even more devotion to the Church than the alumni of other Catholic Colleges. To belong to the Church is to be sure of salvation, to belong to the Society of Jesuits, is to secure a most exalted place in heaven. It is an army, and youth burns to do battle in what he firmly believes to be so good a cause. It is an army where he is told that the rewards are always sure, and the distinctions depend on the valour of the individual. He is fired with the ambition to destroy heresy, and to conquer the world for the Church. He is not yet told anything of the means whereby this apparently glorious end is to be attained.
The time approaches for his first communion, and all around is made subservient to the impression which such an event is desired to make. The Jesuit saints and their doings are brought prominently forward for his consideration and admiration. Indeed, the Jesuits have been astute enough to secure the canonisation of some of their very youthful, but long deceased members, so that schools and educational institutions are placed under their patronage. The canonised youths Aloysius and Stanislaus, have a monopoly of clients amongst the young, and lately a certain blessed Berchmans has been added to the list. Novenas, or nine days of successive prayer, are said to these deceased heroes of the Order. Altars are erected in their honour, and decked on their feast days with the choicest flowers and the most costly ornaments. Who shall say but one day this youth may have such honours paid to him also!
How Impressions are Made.
The desired end is helped by a little word from a father, a master, a professor, which has been so carefully prearranged as to seem quite accidental. It is the old story of the constant dropping of water. But the drops are dropped very cautiously, not one too many, nor one too few. Now let it be remembered that the youth believes in his Church with an intensity of belief which is difficult for the non-Catholic to realise. He is told certain things, and he believes them to be true, and he has no opportunity of hearing the other side of the question, and indeed he does not believe that there is another side. Rome has spoken. His Jesuit masters tell him what to believe, and he believes accordingly. Later we shall show that history, for example, is taught according to Rome and not according to fact and that all students, whether intended for the Order or for the world, are carefully prevented from having access to any book, pamphlet, or paper, the reading of which might lead them to question what they are taught. There is only one side of any question, literary, metaphysical, social or political, for the Roman Catholic, and that is the Roman Catholic side. The habit having been so well formed in youth of believing what is told them, and the warnings being so terrible as to the dangers of listening for a moment to the opposite side of any question, that later in life, when there is comparative mental freedom which might he availed of for obtaining information, such information is not desired, because it has been so impressed on the mind in youth that there is no other side except what is false and dangerous.
At last the time arrives when the youth must make his choice between a world which he has been told is full of snares for his destruction, and a state wherein he is assured he will be absolutely certain of heaven. Once more let it be remembered how his earliest years have been impressed and molded, how sure he is that his teachers are infallible, and that they actually represent God. It is difficult to tell which is strongest, the vividness of Roman Catholic belief or the certainty of the Roman Catholic that his Church is the one Church founded by Christ Jesus. All that is needed now is to deepen impressions already made, and to excite the youth to make a definite and final choice. To attain this end what are called the spiritual exercises are brought into use, and these exercises are the final touch which is given in the making of the Jesuit.
The spiritual exercises are simple enough in themselves. They consist of a series of meditations on sacred subjects. With the exception of those, and they are few, which deal with worship of Mary and the saints, any Christian might read them without perceiving evil. Apparently their only object is to lead the soul to a greater love of God, and a greater zeal for His service. These exercises are used in all convents, at what are called “retreats,” which take place once at least every year. They are used also in Jesuit, and indeed, in all Roman Catholic Colleges both by the priests and the students. The general use of these exercises has done not a little to help the Society, and to spread it. Devout persons naturally wish to have their retreats given to them by members of the Society, as they are supposed to be experts in the use of their own formulas.
The spiritual exercises may be gone through in nine days, or they may be so arranged as to occupy a month, They may be used either publicly or privately. There are three exercises for each day, but, as we have said, the words used are simple, and give but little idea of the effect produced when a preacher who has been trained to make them his text preaches them to an absorbed audience.
“Silence” and Spirtual Terror.
First, a profound silence is required. It is considered a serious fault if even a word is spoken during the time in which the exercises are being used, not only while the preacher is expounding them, but at any time. Only those who have had personal experience of a retreat can have the least idea of the terrible effect of this enforced silence. Day after day, and at every hour of the day and night, there is a silence so profound that the falling of the smallest article, or the shutting of a door or window so as to be heard is forbidden, and penance inflicted. The nervous tension produces in some minds a feeling akin to madness, but the desired effect is obtained. The mind is no longer able to take a clear view of duty, it becomes so enfeebled by its surroundings that it is impossible to think sanely, or calmly. Every mental faculty is strained, how then can a decision be made deliberately. Spiritual terror is the chief factor in the exercises, and the silence and gloom of all around enhances the terror.
In the meditation on hell each individual is required to picture hell to himself, with all its horrors, and if he honestly does what is required, he reduces himself to a pitiable state of mind. When the retreat is given in public the trained Jesuit preacher knows how to pile up the agony with words and gestures, until some of his auditors burst into sobs of anguish, or even shriek aloud in this artificially produced terror. When the imagination is thus worked up anything will be promised which affords a hope of escape from such a future, and here the Jesuits opportunity comes in. The novice master, to whom alone the novices are permitted to speak, goes round to those in whom he is especially interested, and finds them only too thankful to relieve an overstrained mind, and often a promise is given and taken, when the hapless individual is utterly unfit to decide a matter of such supreme moment. But it is all for the good of the Church and the Order—perhaps we should rather reverse the words —and the end justifies the means.
Those who are unacquainted with the realities of Roman Catholic convent life, are often under the impression that all those who enter convents or monasteries, are reluctant victims. If it is realised that they believe in the existence of all the terrors of which they are told, it will be seen that there is motive enough for their decision. It is indeed difficult for those who know that Christ saves fully and freely to realise the state of mind of those who do not believe, and who think that they can escape an eternity of torment by their own efforts.
Jesuit Teaching in Pagan Times.
But the spiritual exercises of Ignatius are by no means so original as may be supposed. It is impossible now to discover whether he had or had not any knowledge of the manner in which the heathen were initiated into the Eleusiman mysteries, but it is more than probable that he was not unacquainted with Oriental mysticism. In the year 1526 while Loyola was in the town of Alcala where Cardinal Ximenes had established a high school, he was arrested by the Inquisition, and cast into prison on a charge of being one of the Illuminati. There is no doubt that there were many disciples of secret and occult Eastern sects in Spain at this period.
The account given in “Rollins’ Ancient History” of the introduction of novices into the Eleusiman discipleship is strangely like the initiatory exercises of a Jesuit novitiate. The principle at least is the same. Spiritual terror is the means used to impress the votary (zealous worshiper). When the time of their initiation arrives they are brought into the temple, and to inspire them with greater reverence and terror, the ceremony was performed in the night. Wonderful things took place on this occasion. Visions were seen and voices heard of an extraordinary kind. A sudden splendour dispelled the darkness of the place, and disappearing immediately, added new horrors to the gloom. Apparitions, claps of thunder, earthquakes, heightened the terror and amazement, whilst the person to be admitted, overwhelmed with dread, and sweating through fear, listened with trembling to the reading of a mysterious volume, if, indeed, in such a condition he was capable of hearing at all. In this case the mind was impressed through the senses, in the case of the Jesuit and Buddhist novice they make their own sensation, and the bodily faculties are impressed through the mind. The Jesuit novice is commanded to smell the stenches, to see the tortures, and to feel the pains of the damned, and he who best carries out this self impressed illusion is considered the most fitting subject for the Order. In the case of the Buddhist the method is somewhat more spiritual.
The Buddhist novice who performed his spiritual exercises long centuries before the Ignatian method was in use, proceeded thus —Five states of “Yama” or purifications and meditations had to be passed through before the novice could obtain holy wisdom, or union of the soul with the supreme God. First, the Chela, or novice, must spend some time in purifications and fasting, and then he comes into the presence of his teacher or master, who is to help him, as the Jesuit novice master assists the Jesuit novice in the process of advancement in the science of Divine things. A patron saint is selected, for the heathen theology has its saints, generally the spirits of ancestors to whom worship is rendered in kind, as well as verbally.
The Fire God.
In the Church of Rome the offerings in kind, which are usually made to the chosen saint, are given in kind to the priest, or other representative of the authority of the Church. In the Eastern worship of the departed, the offerings in kind are burned, as it is supposed that they will thus reach the personality for whom they are intended, through the medium of fire. The idea is curious. The ignorant heathen, having seen that any substance which is placed in fire disappears rapidly, concludes that the fire has absorbed the substance of what is offered, and that this, whether food, or clothing, or other gift, will be presented to the person in whose honour it is offered in another world by the Fire God. The Indian novice is taught to look on his teacher or master as an incarnation of his god. He must worship at his feet, and present to him the same offerings as he would to Krishna (see “Vishnu Purana,” by Wilson, the Orientalist, p. 652). His master is at once his guide and his god. He accepts the voice of the master as the voice of God. Thus the teaching of Rome has been anticipated by the teaching of the followers of the gods of old. Nor is it necessary to account for this similarity of religious teaching by crediting the later teachers with actual imitation. Men who are ignorant of Gospel truth have manifested a similar fashion of worshipping in all ages, and visible signs and symbols have been used as a medium of honouring or communicating with the invisible and unknown God.
Of the two systems, however, the more ancient has in some respects a greater spirituality. In the spiritual exercises of the Buddhist novice, he must endeavour to abstract himself from all outward things by silence, by closing all the approaches of the senses. The eyes must be closed, the ears must be filled with some substance which will prevent the entrance of sound, the very breathing must be suspended. When he is fully abstracted from all the things of time and sense, then, and then only, may he hope for heavenly communications. So also must the Jesuit novice withdraw himself even from the usual course of his sufficiently secluded life. He is removed into a new sphere. Even his former routine of spiritual duties are changed. All must be silent as the grave, and he must lay aside even his holiest occupations. He also must place himself abjectly at the feet of his master, to learn from him the further abandonments of himself to which he is now called.
When the Buddhist novice has altogether abstracted himself from all outward things, he is desired to conjure up the image of his god. It is true that the symbols and form under which he is taught to represent this deity are gross and materialistic, but the same may truly be said of the images of saints which are placed before the Roman Catholic youth for their veneration. But the anthropomorphism (attribution of human motivation, characteristics, or behavior to inanimate objects, animals, or natural phenomena) of the Buddhist is but a step in passing to the realisation of the abstract and purely spiritual deity whom he learns to adore, while the Roman Catholic is always required to venerate exterior forms, and to adore exterior symbols. But there is this important difference: the Eastern novice was taught to use these material things as a means to attain a state of complete abstraction from everything earthly, whereas the Jesuit novice, even if he may attain eventually to a condition of spiritual ecstasy, continues to use the things of sense. We are told, in the life of Madame Guion, that she fasted and prayed and scourged herself in vain, until a Jesuit, more enlightened than his brethren, told her she was searching from without what could only be found within.
Natural Satisfaction in Penance.
There is a certain satisfaction to the natural man in doing some exterior work which he hopes may secure his welfare hereafter. The visible is nearer to us than the invisible. What we see and what we feel is more real to us than what others have seen, or what others have felt. Hence the special adaptability of the spiritual exercises of Ignatius to the natural man. The individual who is engaged in this work is withdrawn, as we have said, from all exterior distraction in order that all his faculties and all his senses may be occupied in the one object of realising the subjects proposed to him. It is not sufficient that he shall listen to the words in which the preacher describes the torments of hell —torments which are supposed to assail every sense, and to torture each with an agony devised specially for the purpose.
The listener is at last left in the dimness of an artificially created solitude, to work up the scene which has been described in such a manner as to make him imagine that he already feels the whips and scorpions and the burning fiery instruments with which he will be punished for ever and ever.
The Penances which Saints do.
But the spiritual exercises were not all words. Ignatius had taught and had practised the gospel of salvation by works. Once it is believed that we can save ourselves, or at least that we can merit salvation, by personal suffering, there is no limit except the limit of human endurance, which can be put to self sacrifice. But it often happens that those who have practised the most degrading humiliations to obtain the grace of humility have found a source of pride even in these humiliations. The temptation to spiritual pride in the Roman Catholic Church is proportioned to the honour which that Church pays to those who practise voluntary humiliations. And this is the case above all in the cloister. Here ambition is limited, and has but one outlet. It is true that a few may ambition advancement in position, and desire the higher places. For the rest, they know well that the prizes are few indeed, and the difficulty of attaining them is very great, but the poorest and the most ignorant have not only a chance, but the best chance of advancing themselves to that high position of sanctity which must eventually secure them honour, even if that honour is sometimes manifested in pitiful exhibitions of envy and jealousy.
Indeed, to secure the very high honour of being considered a saint, the very first step is to practise, in season and out of season, acts of extraordinary humility, or perhaps we should say, acts which in conventional life are supposed to be acts of extraordinary humility. Humility is a relative term, and humiliations vary accordingly. — Then there are two kinds of humiliations first, the humiliations which are part of the convent — rule, as, for example, kissing the floor when reproved by a superior, or performing a penance prescribed by rule in the refectory, and second, the penances or humiliations which are voluntary. These are the penances which obtain credit of the highest kind. A good religieuse (a woman who belongs to a religious order) is one who observes well and carefully the ordinary routine of the convent. A saint is one who, besides observing this rule, does a great many other things which to the uninitiated seem more or less absurd.
The Way to get Cannonized.
It was perhaps natural that some soul who had so followed the instructions of the guide of his retreat as to have counted the blows received by Christ in the scourging, and “seen” the blood which flowed from His stripes, should at last be so overcome by this realised scene as to desire to bear himself what Christ had borne. It is certain, however, that in all religions, and at all times of the world’s history, men have sought to propitiate their gods by personal sufferings, and there is little difference, either in the motive or the act, between the scourgings which the Roman Catholic saint inflicts on himself or others, and the piercing of the flesh with hooks of the Hindoo fakir.*
Nor need it be assumed that this seeking for honour through humiliations is done deliberately. Pride is one of the most subtle of sins, and the pride which apes humility has passed into a proverb. The monk or the nun who practises humiliations with a remote view of future exaltation, may have scarcely realised the temptation, and would resent the imputation of such a motive with an indignation not altogether feigned. We have considered the spiritual exercises of Ignatius Loyola principally with regard to their effect on, and use by the Jesuit novices, but these exercises are intended for the use of Roman Catholics of all classes. Many editions of this work have been published by the Jesuits, and to the uninitiated reader they may seem as we have said elsewhere, simply a good guide to a higher spiritual life. But the real object of these exercises consists in what they are made to mean when expanded or used as a textbook by a trained priest.
In the edition published by Cardinal Wiseman, he calls attention to the necessity of a director for those who wish to avail themselves of the full benefit to be gained from them. He says, “The essential element of a spiritual retreat is direction. In the Catholic Church no one is allowed to trust himself in spiritual matters.” Elsewhere he says, “Let no one think of undertaking these holy exercises without the guidance of a prudent and holy director.” It is a fundamental axiom in the Church of Rome that every one must be guided in all things spiritual and temporal by the Church. But as the Church is an abstraction, and only general—though very well defined lines of conduct are laid down for the guidance of the children of the Church—it becomes necessary that all who desire “perfection” should apply to some one individual for the personal guidance which is of precept, if not of obligation.
It is here that the tremendous power of the Church makes itself felt. It is through this “direction” that statesmen are compelled to act, not for the benefit of the country to which they belong, but for the benefit of the Church, which controls them. It is here that matters of the most secret nature are discussed and decided. It is here that alliances of marriage are arranged, and political treaties are agreed on. That we do not overstate the case will be shown later. It is even advised that the confessor and the director should not be the same person, and the reason for this is obvious. A good Roman Catholic is supposed to go to confession frequently, and may have to change his confessor often. But the case of direction is different. Direction is not needed at every moment, letters can pass between the directed and the director, and at regular and not infrequent interviews, particular orders can be given by the director and general principles laid down for the guidance of the individual.
The Jesuit and the Director.
The great power of the Jesuit has been obtained and preserved through the director. To have a Jesuit director is fashionable, and the Jesuit has succeeded in persuading the world of Catholics that he is an expert in this matter, as indeed he is. As it is of the utmost importance that the General should be kept informed of every important public affair in every country, and in every cabinet, it is obvious that he can obtain the information through the fathers who hold the position of directors to Roman Catholic politicians, hence the efforts which are made by the Order to secure for themselves the direction of Roman Catholics who hold a prominent place in politics or society. Hence the jealousy with which they are regarded by other religious Orders, and by the secular priests.
(A secular priest is a priest who does not live according to a rule of a religious order, society, or congregation of priests. He is a priest who does not take the vows of chastity, poverty and obedience of the members of a religious order, but instead promises obedience to a diocesan bishop and to live a celibate life.)
The Jesuit novice has also his director, but the one object of his spiritual guide is everywhere the same—to impress on him the glory and honour of becoming a member of an institute, which has not only kings and princes, but even popes and cardinals at its feet. But while the neophyte is dazzled with the glory which is offered to him, he is at the same time well impressed that the only way to secure and preserve this glory, is obedience. It is the first and the last lesson of his spiritual life. His training on this one point is terribly severe. But the end pointed out to him is glorious. He may some day have kings and princes kneeling at his feet, and have the power to direct the destinies of nations. He may regulate the policy and frame the laws even for nations which are not of his own faith, through the members of his Church who now take their places in the councils of Protestant nations. If the process of the “making of a Jesuit” is hard to flesh and blood, he is reminded that he aspires to belong to the only body of men in the world who can boast of almost universal domination, who wield a sword with the hilt in the hand of their General in Rome and the point everywhere. He is not required to practise great austerities, for this was scarcely part of the Ignatian plan. Indeed, Ignatius is credited with having had a special care as to providing for the bodily requirements of his disciples, and the anecdote of how he purchased lampreys (a variety of eel) in Rome when the price was prohibitory for all but the most wealthy, is read from time to time in the Jesuit refectory with unction, and heard with suppressed murmurs of approval.
Terrible Cruelties.
At the commencement of the Order, Ignatius was obliged to receive older men into his novitiate, but he desired only the young. With them there could be less question of obedience. When the director of their retreat described the misery of the lost in blood curdling accents, they would not be so likely to recall a time when they believed that “a certain mitigation of punishment, a certain happiness, might be possible even in hell.”* It is necessary that these aspirants to so exalted a position should be hardened, and hardened with the hardness of steel. At any moment they might be called upon to exercise the most terrible cruelties on others, or to bear the most terrible cruelties themselves, not indeed that these sufferings would be necessarily physical, but there are mental sufferings which cut as deep into the soul as the lash of the most cruel discipline cuts into the quivering flesh of the body.
* See notes at end of volume.
Obedience is the one end of all this training— unasking, unthinking, unreasoning, obedience.
It is more than unwise to underestimate the strength of an attacking army, or to express contempt for the ability or plans of the leader of an opposing force. What may seem to us the merest folly, is to others heavenly wisdom. We cannot expect to convince if we do not understand the point of view of the individual whom we desire to convert. We cannot expect the hearty cooperation of those who dislike, even if they do not fear, the Jesuits system, if we either misstate its working, or understate the motive power by which it is governed. It is true that the Jesuit, like all Catholics, has his Pantheon of divinities, but he believes in them as firmly as the Christian believes in God, and he also “believes in God. It is true that the Jesuit has his General to whom he gives the obedience of a slave, but the Jesuit believes his General to be as God, so that if the dead voice of God, so to say, in Scripture, seems to conflict with the living voice of God which comes through the General, the authority of the living voice must prevail.
It cannot be too clearly understood that religion, or we may say a certain view of religion, lies at the root of the whole matter. It cannot be too clearly understood that the whole system would fall to the ground at once, if the obedience of the Jesuit was claimed on merely human grounds. A number of men may agree to obey a fellow man, for a limited time, as soldiers obey their generals in war. But though attempts have been made by Roman Catholic theologians to compare the two kinds of obedience, there is actually the greatest possible difference. We have alluded to this matter before, but its importance may justify us in returning to the subject.
The obedience of the soldier is an obedience of convenience, the obedience of the Jesuit is claimed to be an evidence of the highest religious virtue. The soldier is not obliged to internal obedience, he may criticise the actions and motives of his General within certain common sense limits. The Jesuit is taught that an internal criticism is quite as much an act of deadly sin as an openly expressed murmur.
The Service of the Pope.
The soldier can appeal to higher authority, and to public opinion if he considers himself wronged, but the hapless Jesuit is allowed no appeal, even to the Pope. To appeal is to suppose it possible that the superior may have erred, and to admit such a supposition, would be to open the door to a freedom, however limited, which the Jesuit cannot allow to his subjects.
Although the General of the Jesuits is the head of the Order, religiously as well as in all matters of discipline, it will be observed how powerfully his authority is strengthened by the vow required from every Jesuit, of personal service to the Pope. If a Jesuit perchance rebelled or doubted, he can at once be told that it is quite as much against the individual Pope he rebels as against the individual superior, and what Catholic, while he retains even a spark of faith, would try to rebel against his God on earth! That these men should have succeeded as they have succeeded is matter of little wonder, when they have been governed by such a code of laws, that they should have failed, and have been driven forth with contumely from Catholic countries, proves that after all the skill which organised was but human, and that the ends which it strove to attain were not for the benefit of humanity.