May 6, 1861.—
"It seems my lot to be moving about as long as I can move. I am very happy in the work I am about when I am at it, but I have always to go through regret and sorrow before moving, particularly when leaving my home. ... I have now gone through 132 parishes. No movement yet, such as I am aiming at. It always goes on in the form of most interesting missionary work, and is a most agreeable way of doing my begging work. I have been through 123 of these parishes without asking a penny from any one, but they bring me on an average more than £21 a parish in Ireland. I have worked through eleven parishes in the diocese of Salford (England) out of that number, and these do not yield half the fruit of the Irish missions in point of money, but are otherwise very satisfactory.''
In a letter written in December of the same year:
"I am preparing for another year's work like the last, going from parish to parish through Ireland, collecting for our Order, and at the same time stirring the people to devote themselves to their sanctification. They give their money very generously, they listen kindly to my sermons, and I never have a minute idle in hearing confessions; but hitherto there is no attention such as I wish paid to my proposals. I have made these little missions now in 160 parishes in Ireland, and to eleven Irish congregations in England. I am, thank God, in as good plight as ever I was in my life for this kind of work, and this seems to give a hope that I may at length see the effect of it as I wish, or the fruit may spring up when I am dead and buried. If death comes upon me in this way, I will at least rejoice for myself that I am dying more like our Lord than if I finished my course crowned with the most brilliant successes; for when He died people would say He had utterly failed, but He was just then achieving His victory. Whatever way things take we cannot be disappointed if we keep faithful to God."
The lovingness described as subsisting between himself and his dear Irish people gave rise to many incidents, amongst which the following is rather peculiar. At one place, where he had just concluded a little mission, the people gathered round him when he was about to go away. He heard many say, "What will we do when he is gone?" and several other exclamations betokening their affliction at having to part from him. He turned round and asked all he saw to accompany him to the railway station. When they arrived there he addressed them again in something like these words: "Now, stand here until you see the train start, and when it is out of sight, I want you all to say, 'Thank God, he is gone.'"
He met a great many refusals and cold receptions on these missionary tours, but in general he was very well received. The exceptions were dear to him, as they were profitable to himself, and he seldom spoke of them unless there was some special lesson they were calculated to convey.
CHAPTER XVII.
Father Ignatius At Home.
The work of the little missions kept Father Ignatius very much away from the community. His visits at home were like meteor flashes, bright and beautiful, and always made us regret we could not enjoy his edifying company for a longer time. Those who are much away on the external duties of the Order find the rule a little severe when they return; to Father Ignatius it seemed a small heaven of refreshing satisfaction. His coming home was usually announced to the community a day or two before, and all were promising themselves rare treats from his presence amongst them. It was cheering to see the porter run in, beaming with joy, as he announced the glad tidings, "Father Ignatius is come." The exuberance of his own delight as he greeted, first one, and then another of his companions, added to our own joy. In fact, the day Father Ignatius came home almost became a holiday by custom. Those days were; and we feel inclined to tire our readers by expatiating on them, as if writing brought them back.
Whenever he arrived at one of our houses, and had a day or two to stay, it was usual for the younger religious, such as novices and students, to go to him, one by one, for conference. He liked this very much, and would write to higher Superiors for permission to turn off to Broadway, for instance, on his way to London, in order to make acquaintance with the young religious. His counsels had often a lasting effect; many who were inclined to leave the life they had chosen remained steadfast, after a conference with him. He did not give common-place solutions to difficulties, but he had some peculiar phrase, some quaint axiom, some droll piece of spirituality, to apply to every little trouble that came before him. He was specially happy in his fund of anecdote, and could tell one, it was believed, on any subject that came before him. This extraordinary gift of conversational power made the Conferences delightful. The novices, when they assembled in recreation, and gave their opinions on Father Ignatius, whom many had spoken to for the first time in their life, nearly all would conclude, "If there ever was a saint, he's one."