LOYOLA’S SCHEME AND METHODS FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF ROMANISM
WE have seen how Ignatius Loyola magnetized and drew about him the men who became the nucleus of the famous Order of Jesuits. With matchless skill he had exhorted and disciplined the small body of distinguished men, who, under his control, were tools in his hand.
In our rapid sketch of the great founder of the Society we must not omit reference to the instrument by which he achieved his great triumph, and which he wielded much in the same way as the sculptor does his chisel: this was his remarkable book the “Exercitia Spiritualia,” or “Spiritual Exercises.” This book, says I. Nouet, a Jesuit, “was truly written by the finger of God and delivered to Ignatius by the Holy Mother of God.” With a view to habituating his Order to self-inflicted punishment, Loyola ordained that these exercises should form the basis of education among all his disciples, and they remain so to this day. “We Christian warriors,” says the author, “hold these punishments to be necessary, seeing that everyone who wishes to gain a step in heaven can only kill vice and control animal instincts by the dagger of suffering, with which alone can one tame the earthly man, and compel him to wander completely in the path of grace and virtue.”
The “Spiritual Exercises” is a body of rules to teach men how to effect that great change which, in evangelical language, is termed “conversion” ; and the method prescribed, as Dr. Wylie remarks, was an adroit imitation of that process of conviction, enlightenment, and peace through which the Holy Spirit alone leads the soul that undergoes such change in very deed. The book, which may well be called the Bible of Jesuitism, and which contains the very substance or vital principle of Loyola’s Institute, possesses absolutely no charm of eloquence, but guarantees an entire conversion from sin to holiness.
The “Spiritual Exercises” consist of a course of meditations extending over four weeks, and may be fitly described as a journey from the City of Destruction to the gates of Paradise, mapped out in stages. The meditations are ordered to be accompanied by genuflexions, postures, fastings, and floggings. The penitent pursues the allotted contemplation alternately kneeling and lying upon the ground, and without “the brightness of the light.” Four “contemplations” take place daily―the first at daybreak, the last at midnight. The penitent must be totally secluded from all the ordinary affairs of life, his spiritual director being his only companion in the solemn silence of the chamber of meditations. To assist the imagination, frightful pictures are suspended on the walls of the darkened room. During the first week of his seclusion the penitent has to fix his thoughts on sin, death, and judgment. In the second, he has to fix his eye upon the Incarnation and “Mary acquiescing in the work of redemption.” For the third, he has to be absorbed in his “election” ―i.e., the soul’s enrolment under the standard of the Redeemer, which bears the motto, “Poverty, Shame, Humility.” With the fourth all gloomy thoughts are to be dismissed, and spiritual joy, resulting from the thought of glory, is to find entrance into the soul. The light of day, flowers, and odors are to be admitted to the cell.
Through this ordeal Loyola insisted that every recruit should pass. “Submit yourself;” said he in effect, “without reserve, to the process (under a proper direction), and, although you be a heretic, a very Luther, a leper in moral depravity, you will come forth at the month’s end orthodox in belief and holy in heart and life.”
This “pictorial piety,” as it has been fitly called, was the means which Loyola, as a master-magician and close student of human nature, brought to bear on minds already accustomed to the formality of the Romish faith. At the same time, in another part of the continent of Europe, the great Reformers, Luther and Calvin, though overwhelmed with a sense of sin, found through the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ a Saviour from sin, through the Holy Spirit a new life, and a service of perfect freedom.
Loyola’s next consideration was how to make the best use of his devoted disciples, who, having undergone the prescribed “exercises,” were perfected according to his idea, and fit to fight in what, after his knight like notions, he sometimes chose to call “the Little Battalion of Jesus.” Unquestionably, it would be wiser to have the regular clergy as friends rather than foes. Therefore the General decreed that all should continue their studies for the priesthood. For himself; however, the plan was not carried out. Overjoyed at his marvelous successes, he chastised himself for his spiritual pride so severely as almost to deprive himself of life! Physicians interfered, and prescribed a warmer climate than Paris if the saint desired to continue among men. Loyola selected Spain for his winter quarters, for there he could arrange some important family affairs for his two Spanish colleagues, and thus prevent any opposing influences arising which might otherwise be brought to bear on the newly-created spiritual knights. Nominating Peter Faber as his representative, he left Paris in 1535, arranging to meet the six brethren at Venice in 1537, anticipating that they would by that time be ordained. From Venice they were all to embark for Palestine.
Loyola’s fame as a holy, fasting, preaching friar spread far and wide in his native country. The two years passed away quickly, and January, 1537, saw the meeting of the brotherhood, now increased to thirteen members, those from Paris having brought with them three new associates, while Loyola had won three others. A war with Venice was impending, and it was midwinter and too early for starting upon their foreign campaign, so Loyola arranged that the company should temporarily expend their energies upon caring for the sick in the hospitals. They did so, and, their devotion outstripping that of all ordinary nurses and doctors, the Venetians became loud in their praises of the Jesuit band. The Jesuits did not hesitate to receive even lepers into their houses, infectious cases into their beds, or to nurse with untiring solicitude loathsome and incurable sufferers. Crowds flocked to hear Loyola’s open-air sermons; when again the anger of the Inquisition, inflamed by the enraged clergy of Venice, broke out against him. But the powerful intervention of the friendly Archbishop of Theate not only secured his safety, but also such a recommendation to the Vatican that Pope Paul III. granted permission for the immediate ordination of Loyola and his associates; at the same time accompanying the Papal blessing with a purse of sixty ducats towards his proposed missionary expedition.
The long-coveted pinnacle of power, the priesthood, was reached. But when spring arrived Loyola and his newly-consecrated brethren found a fresh obstacle to their voyage. All communication with the Holy Land was interrupted by the war between the Turks and the Venetians. Again hindered in their plan, the brotherhood determined to make full use of their right to preach. A plan was formed of separating the company into couples, who should commence their work on the same day, at the same hour, in some of the most important centers of Venice. Mounting upon a stone, a barrel, or other impromptu pulpit in the busiest of the thoroughfares, they gathered congregations around them and addressed them on the pleasure and profit of the saintly life. Though some impression was created by this procedure the result did not satisfy Loyola, who quickly discovered that the teaching of Protestantism was much more deeply planted in men’s minds than at first appeared. The methods of his new brotherhood were not at all adequate for the needs of the times. What was to be done?
The whole of the brethren were summoned in solemn council at Vicenza and thus addressed by their chief: ― “Providence has hindered the journey to Palestine for the conversion of the heathen. You are destined for a greater career. To save Christianity” ―by which he meant Papacy― “out of the clutches of heresy, it concerns you all above everything to follow out what you have already sworn at Montmartre. Let us offer our services to the Holy Father, telling him we are determined to raise a mighty army of holy knights, whose sole aim shall be directed to overthrow all enemies of Rome under the banner of Jesus.”
This new idea was enthusiastically taken up. From that moment the Society took for its title “The Company of Jesus”; and in order to form a “Phalanx Jesu” the brethren separated on a recruiting tour throughout Italy, while Loyola, taking Laynez and Faber with him, proceeded to Rome to throw himself at the foot of the Pope.
Entering the gates of Rome, and escorted into the Pope’s presence by the celebrated Parisian professor, Dr. Ortiz, the three pilgrims received a gracious reception. The unconditional obedience they offered him, by which they were to be soldiers rather than monks, to carry out his commands, and the entirely gratuitous nature of their services, caused Paul III. to hail as heaven-sent the new and unexpected aid. Half Europe was in revolt from the Papacy through the spread of Reformation principles, and mighty dangers threatened his throne.
Loyola was not long in securing from among the authorities at Rome well-wishers to his “Jesus Association.” Cardinals Contarini and Caraffa not only approved of the movement, but with rare sagacity suggested that as all monkish “orders,” from their evident uselessness, were then regarded with an unfriendly eye, it would be wise to refrain from speaking of them as such in the new Society, which, moreover, must possess distinctive features of its own, unthought of before, in order to secure goodwill and favor.
Loyola agreed. The Society must have a distinct, novel program, and its own fixed laws. He therefore summoned his little troupe to Rome—not all, for some of his men were already at important posts. True to its subsequent history, the Society was already in a position to influence kings. Xavier and Rodriguez were at the Court of Portugal, Faber at the Diet of Worms, and Bobadilla had express orders not to leave the Kingdom of Naples before accomplishing the work committed to his care.
The task of framing the constitution proved lengthy as well as difficult. The winter of 1538-39 at Rome brought dearth and widespread misery in its train. The “Black Cloaks,” as the populace called them, sought and obtained both popularity and proselytes by indefatigable almsgiving. New patrons were won, some of whom went so far as to place valuable property at the disposal of the Society. It is not surprising that this success was most gratifying to Pope Paul, and when Loyola craved from the Vatican the startling order that no physician should be allowed access to the sick bed of any rich Jews in Rome until they had confessed to a priest, and until they had been received into the Church, such order was readily granted.
But a yet more subtle plan for raising the reputation of his Society took shape in the mind of its General. A scandal, which for a long time had weakened the influence of the Church of Rome, and which Pope and cardinals alike had vainly striven to abolish, was rife at this very period. An almost unbounded state of licentiousness prevailed. Luther and his followers were “pointing the finger of scorn at the old city of the Cæsars,” and there was none to deny the accusation of ill-fame. If the stringent act of expelling the thousands of miserable profligates from the city had been carried out a revolution would have taken place. The princes of the Church were in a dilemma, and meanwhile their system was suffering untold injury. Loyola cut the Gordian knot. The potent spell of his influence was brought to bear, first of all, on the wives of the rich Roman nobles, whom he induced to open their purses, in order to found a retreat dedicated “to the holy Martha.” Then he persuaded a number of the most wretched and degraded women to enter this retreat as members of the “Congregation of the Grace of the Holy Virgin.” The Martha Cloister, made attractive within and without, was quickly peopled.
In order both to awaken and sustain interest in the Cloister, Loyola organized processions through the public streets. First came a troop of lovely children, swinging fragrant incense and strewing flowers. Next, huge banners, bearing respectively the mystic letters “I. H. S.,” a picture of the Virgin, and a beautiful penitent being crowned by three angels. Then followed Loyola and his brotherhood in their familiar somber costumes, immediately succeeded by the inmates of St. Martha’s Cloister, attired in finely ornamented white muslin and adorned with pearl necklaces, and with flowers in their hair. They sang, as they marched, the hymn “Veni Creator Spiritus.” The processions created a great impression. Without securing any real moral conquests over the still unreclaimed, unconverted “penitents,” Loyola gained some distinct advantages for himself and his system. The report that the whole of the profligates of Rome had gone into cloister, served to hurl back the reproaches of the Reformation party; hence the Pope was under a deep obligation to Loyola, and he, acting as father confessor to so many of these women, obtained a mass of secret information, which proved invaluable to him in his future projects.