Instead of picking out here and there bits of evidence to show where and how he succeeded in the pursuit of this virtue, I will quote the summing up of his biographer, Father Bartoli, S.J.:

To pass for an ill-bred, dull, unintelligent man; to acknowledge one's sins publicly and reproach oneself for them; to dress shabbily, expose oneself in public to the contempt of everybody, looking like a boor, barefoot, and hair unkempt; lodge at an alms-house, associate with beggars, and behave as they do in order to pass as such by birth instead of by choice; to beg from door to door, and choose houses where one would get more insults than crusts; to tarry there in order to rejoice in rough usage and in the jeers heaped upon one; to give thanks for brutality, and good for evil; to steer wide of places where he was known to be a gentleman and revered as a saint; to go back to his native land, among his own people, as a mendicant, and live like a mendicant, with no lodging but the alms-house, no food but bread begged from door to door; to rejoice when treated as a hypocrite, rascal, or sorcerer; when dragged into court, to refuse the assistance of counsel; when locked in jail to burst out into jubilation, when fettered to the prison wall to talk in so high a strain of the glory of suffering for Christ's sake, as to seem less a prisoner than a madman:-these, from the first days of his conversion, are some of the marks of Loyola's humility.

This is eloquent, this is a true picture of what Ignatius underwent; but is it humility or is it pride? I feel more clear as to other testimony, that may be grouped into three classes: (1) His companions are all agreed that he was meek of heart; Pater humillimus fuit et suæ virtutis occultator. (2) He was never dogmatic in his opinions, unless he felt that he had received illumination from God; he made it a practise to consult those who were better informed than himself, and "very readily" submitted to their judgment. (3) He was so secure in his consciousness of his own modesty, that on one of those rare occasions on which

he unloosed his tongue as to his heavenly visitations, when Ribadeneira said to him, that a stranger might suspect him of vainglory, he answered that he had less fear of that sin than of any other, and added that he did not reveal the thousandth part of his gifts from God, for he did not think it suitable, as the listeners were not capable of understanding.

On the whole it may be that my partial disagreement with his eulogists as to his possession of this virtue, is not a question of substance but of words. What they call humility I call self-mortification; what I call humility, they would call the indwelling of heavenly grace. But whatever this quality was, heavenly grace, modesty or meekness, he strove to put it to use and live in accordance with its light. It showed itself in his continual endeavor to do better. When he had anything of consequence to do, his procedure was, first, to strip himself of all desire and self-love; second, to pray for help; third, to consider and think as best he could; and, fourth, to lay the matter before God. He told Father Gonzalez that he never ventured to do anything of importance, although all the reasons were in its favor, without having recourse to God. And Gonzalez adds:

I have heard him say that he would like to behave toward his neighbors as the angels behave toward us, and in two special respects: first, not to fail to give them all possible aid to deliver them from evil, spiritual and physical; second, not to lose his composure whatever should happen (as angels never cease to gaze upon God and enjoy Him) nor to be sorrowful in such a manner as to scant his worship. He also said that, even if God were to destroy the Society, he did not think his grief would diminish any of his devotion towards God.

Call it humility, or what you please, by his teaching and example, the things of this world became as dust in the eyes of his companions, and they held it to be their duty to proclaim their creed.

CHAPTER XXXII

OTHER TRAITS

I Do not know how some of these instances of Loyola's disposition will affect the reader. His character is subtle; its modelling is delicate, its color passes from shade to shade in almost imperceptible gradation, and what at the beginning of the scale seemed pure goodness of heart, further on looks like tact, and further on still seems to become prudence, and at the end almost an intense and fastidious pride. It is well nigh impossible to determine where one motive fades and another becomes dominant. He possessed prudence and tact to a rare degree, and pride as well; and each of these qualities affects his kindness, and his kindness also affects each one of them. I will quote an anecdote, in which I cannot tell whether Ignatius's controlling motive was Christian kindness or worldly prudence. The refectory in the house had no window, and was so dark that there was scarcely any light there at all. Its wall was a party wall, half owned by their neighbor, and a window might have been cut to look out on a court, without the slightest prejudice to him; but he would not consent. Ignatius was advised that the Society had a legal right to the window, but rather than quarrel and go to law, he preferred to have a dark refectory for eight years. Finally the Society bought the court and cut the window. Again; after the Society had bought of this same pleasant neighbor a house called the Torre Rosso, close by, the vendor without any right, carried away its doors, window shutters, iron-work, etc., but Ignatius would not hear of a law suit; he said that if a man dedicated to religion suffers for the love of our Lord, and loses things temporal for the sake of peace and charity, the Lord will reward him abundantly.

Another of his qualities was graciousness. For instance,

when going about the house, if he met one of the brothers he looked at him with a most complaisant countenance as if he would take him into his soul; and when a guest came to dinner for the first time, or said good-bye on leaving the city, his manners were affectionately cordial. And yet dignity and gravity never forsook him. He was affable towards every one, familiar with none. He always took into account the humours and feelings of those under him, even in trifling matters; for instance, when laying on a penance, he would bid the offender say what he thought the penance should be. His tact and consideration were those of an accomplished man of the world. However frank in conversation, no one ever felt offended at his words or his manner. But though nobody was more affectionate and affable than he, yet if he did appear angry, nobody was so feared. And his behaviour was always adjusted to those with whom he was dealing. He was especially careful to treat capable Fathers, on whom he needed to rely, with great circumspection in order not to offend them, unless he knew from experience that, whatever his manner, it was all one to them. And it was his custom to get things done, if possible, without giving a positive command. He liked it best, if a brother should do what he wanted done as of his own inclination, without any sign from him; and if it was necessary to give directions, he preferred not to make them peremptory. When something was asked of him, he immediately made up his mind whether he could grant it or not, and if not, while the other was talking, he considered how he could frame his refusal in such a way that the petitioner should take no umbrage. Sometimes he would say, this matter must be decided by some one else, sometimes he expatiated upon the difficulties hedging it about; and he used such kind words, spoke so reasonably and showed such real good will, that the other went away content, or, if he came, as sometimes happened, on a friend's errand, with a conviction that his friend was wrong.

When two members of the Society were fond of one another, he liked to praise each to the other; or, if two happened to be at odds, he took pains to tell each separately

all the good that he knew or had heard of the other, or he would say complimentary things to a third person who he knew would repeat them, and so on.

In all such ways Ignatius showed tact, and also kindness. From that I pass on to what may more properly be called prudence, pure and simple. In his decisions, he never acted hastily; he never spoke at haphazard, but always upon consideration. When there was time, he would say: "Dormiremos sobre ello." ("We will sleep on this matter.") In consequence, the things he said, no matter when uttered or under what circumstances, were like the rules of a constitution, all dovetailed and fitted into one another. In his latter days he was able to tell his secretary that he had not made a rash promise for a dozen years. Whenever he wrote to persons in high place, or on business of importance, he was especially cautious and spent a long time considering what he should say, and would read the letter over and over, weighing each word, erasing here, amending there, and causing the draft to be copied out again and again. He said that such time and trouble were well spent. And he always made a point of telling the great personages he met of all the attacks and slanders that had been directed against him, so that they should know the truth and not take their first impressions from gossip or from unfriendly persons.

In one matter he was very wary. He would not suffer any criticism of the Pope, nor any suggestions, or insinuation, that the Pope might have done this, or commanded that, more to the advantage of his flock. This was particularly so after Caraffa, with whom, it will be remembered, he had once had a falling out, had mounted the pontifical throne. Lainez preached a sermon in one of the big Roman churches on simony; the sermon was most proper but because he feared that some one might misconstrue what Lainez had said into a reflection upon some measure that Caraffa had just sanctioned, he took him to task and punished him. And he warned Ribadeneira, who was setting off on a trip to Flanders, to beware how he spoke about matters that touched His Holiness, saying that, since some