Page:The Czechoslovak Review, vol3, 1919.djvu/434

At this moment there begins a long period of sadness; it lasts nearly three centuries, from 1622 to 1880.

As early as 1555, emperor Ferdinand I. called in the Jesuits to Bohemia, and they established there a college which became soon the headquarters of Catholic reaction. After the White Mountain the moment came to erase from the surface of the earth and from the cognizance of history that insolent nation which for two centuries had been defending its nationality against Germany and its liberty against the papacy. The nobility, which represented the most conscious and active section of the nation, was driven out and proscribed; the towns men were ruined, the ministers expelled and the peasants were turned over to the exploitation of foreign adventurers which flocked to the dead body of crucified Bohemia. The constitution was mutilated as a preparation to its suppression. But nothing seemed complete as long as the University remained; University, that is to say the thought, the soul of the people.

In 1622 Ferdinand ordained that the University of Prague should become attached to the Jesuit College. They alone will teach in the faculties of theology and philosophy; they will select professors for the faculties of law and medicine; the rector and chancellor will be taken from their order. The Company takes over the direction of public instruction which belonged to the University of Charles, decides on the course of study and issues licenses to teach. The rector reprimands and discharges suspect professors. The Jesuits obtain the sole control of censoring, inspect libraries and printing houses, confiscate dangerous books. The government of spirits is completely in their hands.

In 1651 Ferdinand III., to complete the work of his father, placed the University under a director, a veritable commissioner of police, whose duty it was to watch and denounce students and professors. Under that double tyranny, political and religious, intellectual life disappeared: there was no longer any thought, there was no University of Prague, no Bohemia. Science was suspected and muzzled; all things combined to keep the professors in a state of pitiable mediocrity; they were forbidden to devote themselves to special studies. Condemned to a thankless task, reduced to beggarly pay, the teachers neglected their duties and cut down their courses; public lectures were so empty that the students had to take private tuition, thus enabling the professors to augment their meager salaries.

Philosophy was treated in the most approved scholastic manner. Long discussions were held about the problem, at what hour the last judgment would begin and how long it would last.

There was no instruction in history and geography; mathematical courses consisted of half an hour per week for just one year. The Jesuit order produced more than one remarkable scholar, and even in Bohemia there are to be found among its members distinguished writers and choice spirits. Nevertheless their influence has been deplorable, because they feared science and life. Libenter carebo poculo in quo suspicio veneni, said one of their most illustrious representatives. To avoid poison they would keep knowledge away from man; thought, reflexion, research was in their eyes nothing but what the devil tenders to man. Their effort was to repair the mistake which Providence committed when it gave liberty to the creature. Their work is summed up in the missions of Konias, who went from town to town, from village to village, tracking down the heretics and burning their books.

They pushed their zeal so far that even their protectors, the Hapsburgs, began to feel uneasy. Charles VI. came to the conclusion that their instruction was perhaps somewhat insufficient and asked them whether they did not think it advisable to modify their methods. The Company was astounded by these criticisms. What were the complaints? About their methods? They have been applying them for 158 years; have they not made good? They are asked to teach geometry, algebra. Why,