The Dominicans and Jesuits set their faces like flint against all education tending to liberalize the mind.  Here is a passage from a document published by the Jesuits at their first centenary:  “It is undeniable that we have undertaken a great and uninterrupted war in the interests of the Catholic church against heresy.  Heresy need never hope that the society will make terms with it, or remain quiescent ...  No peace need be expected, for the seed of hatred is born within us.  What Hamilcar was to Hannibal, Ignatius is to us.  At his instigation, we have sworn upon the altars eternal war.”  When this proclamation is read in the light of history, its meaning stands forth with startling clearness.  Almost every truth in science and philosophy, no matter how valuable it was destined to become as an agent in enhancing the well-being of the race, has had to wear the stigma of heresy.

It is an interesting speculation to imagine what the intellectual development of Europe would have been, had secular learning been commended by the monks, and the common people encouraged to exercise their minds without fear of excommunication or death.  It is sad to reflect how many great thoughts must have perished still-born in the student’s cloister cell, and to picture the silent grief with which many a brilliant soul must have repressed his eager imagination.

The Charity of the Monks

In the eleventh century, a monk named Thieffroy wrote the following:  “It matters little that our churches rise to heaven, that the capitals of their pillars are sculptured and gilded, that our parchment is tinted purple, that gold is melted to form the letters of our manuscripts, and that their bindings are set with precious stones, if we have little or no care for the members of Christ, and if Christ himself lies naked and dying before our doors.”  This spirit, so charmingly expressed, was never quite absent from the monkish orders.  The monasteries were asylums for the hungry during famines, and the sick during plagues.  They served as hotels where the traveler found a cordial welcome, comfortable shelter and plain food.  If he needed medical aid, his wants were supplied.  During the black plague, while many monks fled with the multitude, others stayed at their posts and were to be found daily in the homes of the stricken, ministering to their bodily and spiritual needs.  Many of them perished in their heroic and self-sacrificing labors.

Alms-giving was universally enjoined as a sure passport to heaven.  The most glittering rewards were held out to those who enriched the monks with legacies to be used in relief of the poor.  It was, no doubt, the unselfish activities of the monks that caused them to be held in such high esteem; the result was their coffers were filled with more gold than they could easily give away.  Thus abuses grew up.  Bernard said:  “Piety gave birth to wealth, and the daughter devoured the mother.”  Jacob of Vitry complained that money, “by various