"The Archduke was dressed in a plain cavalry uniform. He was then about 19 years old, and very young-looking for his age. My object was to impress him with the grand importance of the enterprise which I was proposing as proper to form the dearest and constant aim of his brother's reign; that is, the restoring union to Christendom, having peculiarly in view the reconciling England to the Church. 'I have no wish,' I said, 'to see him, the Emperor, less devoted to his army: let him watch with constant care over all the interests of his Imperial dignity; but let him be devoted, above all and in everything, to the glory of God, and the repairing the losses of the Holy Church; and if it pleases God he should live, he will have a career more glorious, and leave a name greater than Charlemagne.' He said, 'Surely what you propose is most important. It is a matter to be deeply deplored that so many German states are cut off from the Church.' ..... I do not remember clearly much more of what passed in this conversation, and in truth it is not of so much consequence; for his words are not all weighed, solid, and worth recording, like those of his more sage brother. All have not the same gifts, natural or spiritual; and it is not well they should. Of course, it is not well, because God has ordered it thus. But I could see in the diversity of these young men what might be wonderfully combined for doing great things. Charles would not be the one to govern and control, and he has not this to do. The Emperor has; and he is cut out for it. But then perhaps he is not one to win and conciliate those who do not know how to value all superior qualities like his; yet this is necessary in such times, especially when sound, old-fashioned loyalty is not much known. But let the two brothers work together; let their hearts be one, and let that one purpose be directed to noble ends, and it will be well for them, for the empire, and for Europe. Charles will supply what the other wants. I asked Monsignor Mislin one day, with an anxious feeling, whether they were really affectionate, loving brothers, and the answer was satisfactory."
CHAPTER XI.
Father Ignatius Returns To England.
He lands at Dover on the 1st April, 1852, comes home, sets his house in order at the Hyde, and goes, after Holy Week, to see Father Eugene, the Provincial, at St. Wilfrid's, to give an account of himself. His name was about this time in every one's mouth, his doings were canvassed by friends and foes, and many and various were the opinions held about him. In the meantime he went on with his ordinary duties. He gives the retreat in Sedgeley Park again, and one to the congregation at Havant. It was whilst here, in the house of Mr. Scholfield, that he read Lord Derby's proclamation against appearing abroad in the religious habit.
Father Ignatius had to return to London next day, and did not wish to violate this prohibition. He was sadly at a loss; he had brought no secular clothes with him, and the gentleman with whom he was staying was short and stout, so that it was hopeless to think of getting anything suitable from his wardrobe. The butler was taxed for a contribution; all who had an article to spare gave heartily, and the Monk was, after some ingenuity, equipped in the following fashion: A pair of very light shoes, fitting badly and pinching sorely, a pair of short coloured pantaloons, a great pilot overcoat, a Scotch cap, cut so as to make it fit his head, formed the cap-à-pie of Father Ignatius. He took refuge in Spanish Place until the darkness of night might save him from his juvenile friends along the Edgware Road, who, if they recognised him in his new fashion, would treat him to a more than ordinary share of ridicule. He took off the shoes when outside London, and one may imagine the surprise of the religious when he entered the choir thus arrayed, in the middle of matins, to get Father Provincial's permission to change!
Our Fathers shortly after were convoked by the Provincial to a kind of chapter. Among other matters submitted to their consideration, came the doings of Father Ignatius. There were cavils on all sides, from within and without, and many thought that it was his imprudence that drew forth the proclamation. The nature of the charges against him will be seen from an apologetic letter of his to the Standard:—
To The Editor Of The "Catholic Standard."
Jesu Christi Passio.
Sir,—I remarked in my last, not as a complaint, but quite the contrary, that I have often heard that good Catholics have suspected me to be not right in my head, because of my strange devotion to the conversion of England and of the many strange things which this fancy, as it seems to them, has led me to do. So far, indeed, am I from being surprised at or vexed by them, that I fairly declare that something like a suspicion of this kind sometimes flashes across my own mind. Suppose, for instance, I might hear of any one becoming deranged or being in danger of it, I have felt at times something like a sympathetic chord struck in my own mind, which seems to say, "Are people right, perhaps, after all? Am I not really mad on this point?' And it may take me a moment's thought to keep my fair even balance. How do I keep it?—Not as I might have done, some thirty years ago, by recollecting, what when young I used to hear said by my relations, with self-congratulation, "Well, thank God, there is no taint of madness in our family!—"No; I get my satisfaction independently of this, from a twofold consciousness, to one branch of which I could not have referred then—that is, from the consciousness, first, of a yet unimpaired memory concerning what I have seen and said and heard within reasonable limits of time; and secondly, from the consciousness, glory be to God for it, of (may I say it without rashness?) a perfect Catholic, Apostolic, Roman faith. I remember—I cannot be mistaken in this—that, not two years ago, I spent four months in Rome, and spoke out there all my thoughts on this subject, as far as I had opportunity given, without a shadow of reserve, to the first authorities of the Church; and that it ended by my receiving and having in my possession documents fully approving of what I had been doing and purposed to do, from the first authorities of the Church, to which I may add the mention of testimonials signed by the Generals of the Dominicans, of the Conventual Franciscans, of the Franciscans Strictioris Observantiae, and of the Capuchins, recommending me to all local superiors of their respective orders, to the end that they should receive me to hospitality in all their houses, allow the use of their churches to preach in, and assist me in every possible way in my purposes. I have then said to myself, "It would indeed be no ordinary sort of madness breaking out for the first time in a family, which should have the marvellous power of communicating itself, infecting and dragging after it such a number of certainly very respectable heads; to which I may add, that the foundation, as it were, of all these testimonials, was a letter from his Eminence the Archbishop of Westminster, given me when I went into Germany in the summer of 1851, renewed with a fresh signature in 1852, after all my vagaries (?) at Vienna had taken place. In this letter, written in French by the hand of his Eminence himself—of whom I never heard any one express the idea that he was touched in the brain—he states that "having perfectly known me from the time of my conversion [I feel an intimate conviction in myself no one knows me better] he does not hesitate to recommend me to all the Catholics of the Continent, particularly to all bishops and ecclesiastics, secular and regular, as worthy of all their consideration and of their support, in the matters about which I should be engaged." No; I say, that on divine principles, almost as well as human, it is too much to imagine that I have been mad, thus far; whatever may be the case hereafter. Protestants, at least some of them, might say so, and might think it too. No wonder. But will this remonstrance suffice to put an end to such insinuations from good Catholics? Mind, I am not displeased at them; nay, I relish these insinuations beyond what I can express. I have solid reasons for this; but I desire for the future to forego this personal consolation, for the sake of the souls of my poor countrymen, and of hundreds of millions more throughout the world, which I have the conviction might be saved, if the Catholics of England and Ireland would at length have done with their objections, and undertake with all their heart the gaining of this kingdom to God and His Church— and a reputed madman is not likely to move them to it. I cannot but think that the authorities under whose sanction I have acted might be considered a sufficient defence against objections to the movement which I call for so pertinaciously. I will, however, proceed to answer one by one the remarks which I supposed in my last letter might be passed on my narrative of proceedings at Vienna. First, I supposed some would smile at my ignorance of the world, in expecting that in our days young princes like the Emperor of Austria and his brother should have any dispositions to enter into ideas like mine. But why not? Are they not good ideas? at least, I think them so; and am I to think a person incapable of great and good designs because he is an emperor—a prince? There is no doubt that because he is a prince, he is immensely more responsible for the objects which he pursues; and that the glory of God would be incomparably more advanced by his devoting himself to heavenly pursuits than if he were an ordinary person; and are we tamely to surrender to the service of the world, and of the Prince of this world, all who have power to influence the world, and be content on God's behalf to have none but the poor and weak on the other side? I know it is in the Word of God that not many wise, not many noble, &c., are called. God has chosen the poor in this world; but yet there has been a St. Henry, an emperor; a St. Stephen, King of Hungary; a St. Louis of France; a St. Edward the Confessor, and so many more; and what magnificent instruments have such men been for exalting the Church, converting nations, and saving souls! If they have been few in comparison with kings and emperors whose views have been all temporal, is that a reason against trying to add one or two more to their number? I think it is a reason why we should try; and if we are to try, let us do it in the spirit of hope, or we shall do it very languidly. If after all we fail, what have we lost by trying and by hoping? You may answer, we shall suffer disappointment. Ah! who says that? No! no disappointment for those who hope in God and work for Him legitimately. It would make my heart bleed, if I had a heart fit for it, to think of the noble, truly princely youths in question, sinking down to the wretched level of worldly, selfish, immoral, useless men of power, of whom the world has borne so many; and for a time, if but for a time, I have indulged bright visions about them; not mere dreamy visions, for their education, the circumstances of their elevation, the young Emperor's career hitherto, his late wonderful deliverance from assassination, in which he behaved, as report says, in away to encourage all such thoughts as mine—all these are reasons on my side; but suppose I am disappointed there; suppose no one sympathizes in my thoughts; suppose the Emperor has forgotten all about my appeal, and I never travel more, or never more to Vienna, and no one else will take any trouble about it—is God's arm shortened? Are there no other emperors, or kings, or queens for Him to choose among, if emperors He has need of for the work? My friends, fear not. I do not intend to be disappointed, and, what is more, I shall not be, nor will any of those be who work for the saving of souls, even on the very largest scale, unless we are so foolish as to turn back and grow slack. But is it not an error, it will be asked, a mistake to wish kings and emperors to interfere in such things? I know many persons of great consideration have this thought; but the mistake seems to me to lie in not making a distinction between such interference as that of Constantius, Valens, Julian, in old times; Henry IV. and Joseph II. of Austria, Henry VIII. of England, and that of such princes as I have named above, whom the Church has canonized for what they did for her. This is my opinion, others have theirs; how shall we decide? Can we here again know the mind of Rome; and will not that have some weight in settling the question? I will just relate what took place there relative to this matter. When preparing to leave Rome for Vienna, I desired to obtain from the Austrian Ambassador there a letter, which might facilitate my access to the Emperor, on which I had set my heart. But I understood the Ambassador himself was not easily accessible, and that I had better obtain a note of introduction to him, and from no one would it be so desirable as from Cardinal Antonelli, the Pope's Secretary of State. I obtained an audience from him and made my request. He answered: "We have a nuncio at Vienna; it will do better for you to have a letter from me to him." Of course I accepted this spontaneous offer most thankfully. The Cardinal desired me to tell him what I wished at Vienna, I said: "An audience of the Emperor: and as I am asking the favour of your Eminence to assist me in obtaining it, it seems right you should know for what end I desire it. It is to propose to the Emperor to take to heart my great object of the conversion of England, and of Protestants in general, and to move his subjects to it." The Cardinal explained to me some circumstances in the position of the Emperor, which made it unlikely that he would be led to take any open steps of this kind; but he gave me the letter without a word of objection to my wish, on principle; and it was on my presenting it to the Nuncio, that he most graciously desired that I should lodge in his palace all the time that I was in Vienna. As I have been led to mention this audience with Cardinal Antonelli, I think others may share with me in the feelings of satisfaction and admiration with which the remainder of what passed impressed me. I took occasion from finding myself in company with the Pope's Secretary of State, to make an additional effort towards moving Rome in the great cause; and as, by his office, he had to regard the political effect of a decided movement such as I was begging, I urged my conviction that no political ill consequences need be feared from the Holy Father calling on all Christendom to move in this spiritual enterprise. He interrupted me with saying: "The Holy Father fears no man and nothing in the world." He adverted to the position in which he had seen him at Gaèta, and said: "The political power of the Holy See depends on its weakness." I do not remember the exact words; but they amounted to a noble adoption by the Apostolic See of the famous Apostolic sentiment: "When I am weak, then am I strong," in relation not only to the wielding of its own inalienable spiritual sovereignty, but to its accidental temporal power, in the exercise of which we perhaps should not expect always to see the Divine principle so prominent. This discourse gave me the consoling assurance that when the mind of his Holiness should be guided by the light which is in him, to judge that the time is come for a powerful call on Christendom to move forward in the great enterprise, no human considerations will check his steps. The Holy Father knows no fear of man.
I am, your obedient servant,
Ignatius Of St. Paul, Passionist.
The joyous way in which he received crosses and mortifications may be seen from this letter. It seemed as if nothing could ruffle his temper. He remarks on the Proclamation, in a letter he wrote to make arrangements for saying mass in a private chapel: "There ought to be something in the way of a cassock too, as the Queen and Lord Derby have been pleased to make the country too hot for me to keep on my wearing of the habit for the present. At least so it seems."
When he attended the meeting of our Fathers, alluded to above, he travelled by train, with his habit slung over his shoulder, and the sign conspicuous, saying, "Since they won't let me wear my habit like a religious, I shall carry it like a slave."