divine, and not with worldly honors or bedizened courtesans, was wholly due to the habit of his thoughts. At Manresa Ignatius made the first draft (though I should not speak positively in a matter concerning which we have little definite to go upon) of his Spiritual Exercises, or at least of the earlier chapters. These Exercises were the fruit of his own experience; they are a carefully arranged exposition of the practices which had enabled him to triumph over temptation, or rather a syllabus of such practices, since they are meant for use in the guidance of souls by spiritual directors, and not for the disciple or novice himself. I shall speak of them more fully hereafter. They are intended to rouse the soul to repentance and effort by means of prayer, of meditation both on the mysteries of religion and the consequences of sin, and to instil into the penitent a feeling that it is his duty to enroll himself as a soldier under the banner of Christ. No doubt, as time went on, and his experience of life broadened and his knowledge of men increased, he altered and added; but probably the Exercises remained in essentials as he first conceived them. The book had an extraordinary influence, supported, as it was, by the potent personality and passionate purpose of the teacher. He believed that he had composed this treatise not without divine guidance and help. Ignatius stayed at Manresa about a year; it was a year of spiritual labor as well as of spiritual experiences. He began to gather disciples about him. Perhaps I should not use so strong an expression, but limit myself to saying that he got into the way of sharing with his neighbors the light, which, as he believed, he had received from God. He gave spiritual counsels to all that would hearken to him; and, as he was gifted with the eloquence that comes from conviction and from the passionate desire to save souls, he had a number of listeners. In this occupation he spent several hours every day. He prayed with them and exhorted them, taking care not to assume the tone of a teacher, as if he were better or wiser than they. He gives an instance of his behaviour. Usually he lived upon the food begged from charitable persons, but if any one invited him to dine, he would accept. During dinner he did not speak, unless asked a question; in that case his custom was to stop eating and answer. Observing this his host usually forbore to ask questions until they had left the table. After dinner he would take his cue (though not always) from something that had been said at table, and enter upon a spiritual discourse, according as God prompted him, for he used not to think beforehand about what he should say; if he did he spoke poorly. These talks, it is said, were very edifying; and in part owing to them but chiefly to the Spiritual Exercises, which were already spread abroad in the town, many persons mended their ways of life and made noteworthy progress on the spiritual path. During the winter he fell ill of a serious fever, probably in consequence of his austerities. He recovered, but returning to his privations and discipline, fell ill again; the same thing happened a third time, and his friends in alarm now took care of him. The magistrates provided a lodging and what things were necessary, and honorable ladies took turns in watching by his bedside through the night. Upon convalescence he was induced to wear warmer clothes, and a cap, as well. He also abandoned the exaggerated asceticism of not cutting his hair and nails. From these illnesses he learned the lesson for himself, he always was profiting by his experiences-and in later years taught it as a precept to his disciples, that in times of sickness a man should abate the fervour of devotional practices, until bodily strength has returned, and in the meantime, so far as his condition will permit, cultivate patience and concern himself with the edification of others. As Father Polanco says: "God had indeed given him a remarkable talent for unmasking temptations and for directing those who were deeply concerned with spiritual things." During his stay in Manresa he had mastered the first lesson in his spiritual education, and, as he believed, God, the divine schoolmaster, now summoned him to another. It was time to go to Jerusalem, so he bade goodbye to his friends and betook himself to the port of Barcelona. Here we get our first understanding of how wholly he was ab sorbed by his inner vision. Every other visitor was enchanted by Barcelona. Set on little hills in the midst of its gardens of oranges, lemons and cypresses, guarded by its turreted walls and watched over by its stately cathedral -fabrica exquisitissima-no town could be more picturesque and charming. In this pleasant region Loyola came upon all the beauty of the south, with its luxuriant herbage, its pomegranates, medlars and pineapples, its vines heavy with grapes, all ripe (as it seemed to travellers from the north) before their time, and the tropical palms standing like sentries here and there. But he noticed these things no more than the Prince in the story galloping to his Princess notices the road of gold beneath his horse's hoofs. CHAPTER V PILGRIMAGE TO JERUSALEM (1523-1524) ALL that we know of these travels of Ignatius through Italy to Jerusalem is what he himself has said in his Memoirs. Probably even at the time he dictated them, in his old age, he did not appreciate the immense influence these experiences had had upon him. In Italy he learned, all unwittingly, of the Renaissance, already past its meridian, and of the dawning Reformation, and in Jerusalem how mistaken his conception of the true danger to Christianity had been. I mean that he became aware of facts and circumstances from which his sagacious reason, working in some subconscious part of his mind, slowly fashioned the policy for saving and strengthening the Holy Roman Church that he finally matured and put into effect. His plan of going single-handed to convert the Turks to Christianity sounds, in modern ears, most Quixotic. Loyola's sagacity, however, as I see things, was as sound at that time as in his later years; even this wild plan is evidence of it. His creed was simple; Christianity was set over against Mohammedanism, and as a faithful soldier of Christ it was his business not to balk at any forlorn hope. The boldest strategy was to strike at the very center of the enemy's position; it was also the wisest. Had not David overcome Goliath? This belief that Mohammedanism was the most dangerous enemy of the Holy Roman Catholic Church was purely medieval. It is evident that Ignatius knew nothing of the great intellectual awakening that had swept over Italy and from Italy northward, and had affected Christianity so powerfully; nothing of the recent Lutheran revolt. Intellectual doubts and disobedience within the body of the Church constituted its danger, not the followers of an alien creed/Loyola's complete ignorance of the state of religion in Europe outside of Spain prevented him from understanding this; but with regard to political matters, he was not far wrong. Islam was at the height of its power and full of aggression. The Ottoman Turks had overrun Syria and Egypt, they were already in Belgrade and drawing nearer to Vienna; they had possession of Rhodes and disputed the supremacy of the Mediterranean; they threatened Italy, even Rome itself. Suleiman the Magnificent seemed certain of Mohammed's Paradise, if conquest could make sure of it. The gentle, Christian, meek Pope Adrian was doing all he could to equip an army, and to induce Charles and Francis to make peace and turn their arms against the common enemy. Alone of Europeans Loyola put his faith in the teaching of Jesus: "I say unto you, love your enemies" and wished to obey that teaching. Erasmus, it is true, had written: We are not, I presume, to kill all the Turks. The survivors are to be made Christians. . . . While our lives and manners remain as depraved as they now are the Turks will see in us but so many rapacious and licentious vermin. How are we to make the Turks believe in Christ till we show that we believe in Him ourselves? . . . Show them that Christ's yoke is easy, that we are shepherds and not robbers, and do not mean to oppress them. Send them messengers such as these instead of making war, and then we may effect some good. . . . Christians ought to show their faith in their works, and convert Turks by the beauty of their lives. But Erasmus was not in earnest, he was indulging himself in irony at the expense of current Christianity. So was his Spanish disciple, Juan Valdés, who already betrays his Protestant leanings in his Colloquy between Charon and the soul of a King who has come to the fatal ferry: CHARON. Did you do aught for the love of God? |