On the evening of his arrival in Rome he went to the English College and presented himself to Dr. Wiseman, the late Cardinal, who was the rector. Dr. Wiseman had heard of his conversion, but did not expect to see him so soon, and while they were conversing and giving and receiving explanations, two letters arrived by post from Bishops Bramston and Walsh, which put everything in its proper place. Here then we have this distinguished convert lodged in a student's cell to prepare for receiving real Orders in due time. He gives his impressions of the college in a letter to Mr. Phillipps, written about a week after his arrival, as follows:—
"I have felt most completely comfortable and happy ever since I have been here. The life of the college is of course regular and strict. I could not have believed in the existence of a society for education such as this, half a year ago. Such discipline and obedience, united with perfect freedom and cordiality, is the fruit of the Catholic religion alone, in which we learn really to look on men as bearing rule in God's name, so that they need not keep up their influence by affectation of superiority and mysterious reserve. I do not know all the members of the college by name even yet, but, as far as I do, I can speak only in one language of them all. I have kept company principally with the rector and vice-rector, as I am not put on the footing of the ordinary students, being a convictor, that is, paying my own way, and also brought here under such peculiarity of circumstances as warrants some distinction, though I desire to make that as little as possible. I do not go with the others to the public schools, but am to study at home under Dr. Wiseman and Dr. Errington. The rules of the house I observe, and indeed so do the rectors as the rest."
The peace of sober college life could not long remain unalloyed, if it were to be lasting. Whilst Mr. Spencer was studying his Moral or Dogma by the little lamp, and unmoved except by the anxiety to read faster, in order to be sooner in the field to work for God, the world outside was not disposed to forget him. Various rumours were set afloat about Northampton concerning him; one would account for his sudden disappearance, another for his resignation of his living, a third would set about unravelling the popish plots of which he must have been a dupe. These were trifling pastimes, which could be ungrudgingly permitted for the better savouring of devout tea-parties: but surmise will not be content with all this. There was his housekeeper, who became ill immediately, and was near dying. What did that mean? Slanderous reports were set on foot, and the answer to them is the most complete refutation that could possibly be given, while it is at the same time a proof of his virtue. On May 17th, 1830, he thus writes from the English college to the housekeeper, who had mentioned the matter in a letter to him:
.... "I see that it has pleased God that you should suffer under calumny; thank God, most undeserved. It is evident that this slander affects my character as much as yours, and there is hardly a state of life to be conceived where such imputations are more injurious than a priest's; yet if all men should believe it, and I should live and die under this evil report, God forbid I should willingly repine. It would be no trial to suffer calumny, if it was not at first a painful thing; and therefore I do not wonder, nor find fault with you, at your being greatly afflicted when you were so insulted and abused as you describe; but, my dear girl, you should not have allowed this to weigh upon your mind. You have more reason to grieve for this proof of how weak your faith and love to God is, than for the slander. I think it was a mistake that you did not tell me of this at Northampton. I trust I should then and shall always rejoice, when I am counted worthy to suffer reproach for the sake of Christ; and I thank God that such is this reproach. I deserve reproach enough, it is true; and both you and I, if we look through our past lives, shall see that we deserve this and much more for our sins. Let us then learn to accept the bitter words of unfeeling men, as David did the curses of Semei, as ordered by God for our chastening, that we may be purified by them, and He will then turn their calumnies into greater honour one day or other. Though you had better have told me, as I might have helped you at once to overcome your annoyance, yet it may have been better for you to suffer it thus long, that you may learn how much you do care for character, and may henceforth give that up as well as everything besides that you love on earth. If you are so afflicted at a false reproach against you, what would your feelings have been if the Lord had seen fit to prove you, by suffering you indeed to fall; and where is your strength or mine, that we should be innocent in anything for a day, except through His grace? Just think over the matter with yourself, and let this word of advice be sufficient, and let me have the happiness of knowing that you are again what I remember you, patient, and meek, and cheerful, and allowing nothing to concern you but to please God more and more, and work out your salvation. I see by your letter, which I look at again, that you certainly would have told me of this at Northampton, had you judged for yourself, and perhaps it was right that you should act in it as you were advised. Therefore, do not take what I say now as if I had anything but the sincerest love and respect for you; I only speak to warn you of your spiritual wants, in which I partake with you. A woman's feelings are more tender, of course, under such cruel insults. When my feelings are hurt I find the same proof that I do not love God as I ought to do, and surely we never can have too much of that love. How infinitely blessed are you that you are singled out from the herd of those who prosper in the world, and have all men speaking well of them, and are permitted to walk in the way by which alone we can attain to the kingdom set before us. Remember the most blessed and glorious Virgin, Mary, of all creatures the most beloved and most worthy to be loved of God, who was saluted by an angel as full of grace, and is now in heaven, Queen of Angels, and Prophets, and Apostles, and Martyrs. How was her infinite honour of being mother of God made the occasion of most cruel suspicions against her heavenly purity. If she was content to bear this with perfect meekness and humility for God's sake, surely you may say with her, 'be it done unto me according to thy word,' whether He shall order you to bear this or any other trouble. If occasion is put before you to prove yourself undeserving of such imputations, do not neglect to use it, for God's honour, which suffers by our being supposed guilty, and for the good of your slanderers, who may be brought to repentance by a due reproof; but take no pains about it, except in prayer to God, and in examining throughout all your past ways, what may be the cause of the affliction as ordered by Him. I am sure I can hardly find anything to accuse you of. I used to delight in your conversation, and you did in mine; but, thank God, great as my sins have been, I never, I believe, said a word to wound your delicacy, and you never transgressed the bounds of respect which a servant ought to show towards a master. But those who, for their own sorrow, will not learn what the joys of spiritual friendship are, cannot understand any intimacy but that which is sensual and gross. As, therefore, I left home so suddenly, and they could not again understand the possibility that my faith should be so suddenly established, and that, for the sake of it, I was willing to give up my home, and as you showed such emotion at learning that I was to leave you, these people had no way to account for the whole matter but imputing to us shameful guilt."
From Mr. Spencer's charity before he became a Catholic we may conclude what it must have been now. It would seem that, in temporals, he had not those difficulties in the way of his conversion that beset many Protestant clergymen who depend solely on their livings. But, the sacrifices he willingly made, prove that the prospect of sheer want even would not have deterred him from following God's call. A few days after his conversion he went to see the Dominican Fathers at Hinckley, and said, in conversation, "I suppose it is not lawful for me to receive the fruits of my benefice, now that I have ceased to be a minister of the Establishment." One of them said, "Certainly not." Whereupon he asked for a sheet of paper, wrote a letter to the Protestant bishop in a few minutes, resigning his cure, and simply said, as he impressed the seal, "There goes £3,000 a year." He was then wholly dependent on his father's bounty, and if unworthy motives had had any force with Earl Spencer, his son might have found himself penniless. From the allowance granted him he received monthly whilst in Rome much more than was sufficient to pay his way in the college. It was remarked, however, that the day after he got his money he had not a farthing in his possession, and on inquiry it was found that what remained from the college pension he distributed regularly among the poor. Dr. Wiseman turned the channel of his charity to a more profitable object, knowing how much he would be imposed on by the Roman beggars, and several monuments still look fresh in the chapel of the English College, which were repaired by what remained over and above what was absolutely necessary of his income. It seems as if he never could bear to be the possessor of money; he would scruple having it about him. He was known, even when a minister, to draw money out of the bank in Northampton, and give the last sixpence of it to the poor before he got to Brington.
Before August, 1830, he received minor orders, and immediately after hears the news that Mary Wykes, his housekeeper, has become a Catholic. It is a singular fact that she took his conversion so to heart that she nearly died, and was yet the first to follow his example. She was delicate in health, of a respectable family in his parish, and Mr. Spencer acknowledges that he is under many obligations to her father. He settles an annuity of £25 or £30 a year upon her for life, and writes to her from the English College thus: "Pray to God to give you a tender devotion to her whom He loves above all creatures, and who of all creatures is the most pure, amiable, and exalted. I dare say you will have found difficulty, as I have done, in overcoming the prejudices in which we have been brought up against devotion to the Saints of God; but let this very thing make you the more diligent in asking of God to give you that devotion to them which He delights in seeing us cultivate."
On the 13th of March, Sabbato Sitientis, 1831, he received the Subdiaconate, This is the great step, as Catholics know, in the life of one destined for the priesthood. The Subdiaconate imposes perpetual celibacy, with the obligation of daily reciting the divine office, and it is then the young cleric is first styled Reverend. It is said that a few days after his receiving this sacred order, a message was sent him by his family not to become a priest, as it was feared his brother would have no issue, and George was looked to as the only source whence an heir presumptive could arise for the earldom. He simply answered, "You spoke too late," an answer he would have given whether or no, as he had long ago determined never to marry. It was at this time also he wrote, at the request of the Bishop of Oppido, the Account of my Conversion,—a work well known to English readers.
CHAPTER III.
F. Spencer Is Ordained Priest.
Father Spencer, ever since he first turned completely to the service of God, was determined to do whatever he knew to be more perfect. He did not understand serving God by halves; he thought He deserved to be loved with "all our strength, all our mind, and above all things." This he knew to be a precept, a strict command given by our divine Lord. How it was to be observed was his difficulty. He was groping in the dark hitherto, and though not making many false steps, still far from clearly seeing his way to perfection. The exactness of Catholic theology, which sifts every question to the last atom, made him meet this one face to face.