A novice's life is a very eventless one; it has little in it of importance to others, though it is of so much consequence to himself. The coming of a postulant, the going away of a newly-made brother, the mistakes of a tyro at bell-ringing, chanting, or ceremonies, are of interest enough to occupy several recreations. The absence of soul-stirring news from without gives these trifles room to swell into importance. When the little incidents are invested with ludicrous or peculiar circumstances, they often have a sheet of the chronicles dedicated to their history by the most witty or least busy of the novices.
A postulant ran away the day after Father Ignatius was clothed; he heard the religious take the discipline, and no amount of explanations or coaxing could induce him to accustom his ear to the noise, much less his body to the stripes, of this function. The senior novice left at the same time; he was a priest, and died on the London mission the very same year as Father Ignatius. In a few days more Father Dominic caught a novice dressing his hair and giving himself airs before a looking-glass. His habit was stripped off, and he was sent to the outer world, where, perhaps, the adorning of his good looks was of more service to him than it was at Aston Hall.
It is a received tradition in the religious life that vocations which are not tried by difficulties seldom prove sea-worthy, so to speak. Before or after the novice enters, he must be opposed and disappointed in some way; he has to pay dear for the favour of serving God in this state of life, if he be destined to act any important part in the Church as a religious. Father Ignatius had his trials. He found it difficult to pick up all the minutiae of novice discipline: he suffered a little from homesickness, and these, joined to chilled feet, a hard bed, and meagre food, did not allow him to enjoy to any great extent the delightful sensation known as fervor novitiorum. He got over all this, as we see from a letter he wrote to a friend in March:—
"I am here in a state in which not a shadow of trouble seems to come, but what I cause for myself. With a little humility there is peace enough. I suppose I shall have some more troubles hereafter if I live. I have not been so well for several years. Some would have thought a Lent without a bit of meat would not have done for me; but I have seen now since Shrove Tuesday, and, in Lent or out of it, I never have been better. So in that respect, viz., my health, I suppose my trial here is satisfactory."
A rude shock was in store for his health which he little anticipated when he wrote those lines. This was the terrible year of famine in Ireland, that year which will be remembered for ever by those who lived in the midst of the harrowing scenes that overspread that unhappy country. Poor famishing creatures, who had laid their fathers or mothers, and perhaps their children, in coffinless graves, begged their way to England, and began that tide of emigration which has since peopled Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, and London, with such crowds of Catholics. Every ship brought its cargo of misery, and the hapless victims were forced by their poverty to seek for lodgings in dens of vice, or employment where virtue was not paramount. They thus imbibed a poison to their morals which has not yet been completely purged out of the thousands who have had to follow the footsteps of their famine-stricken predecessors. Numbers of the poor Irish gathered around Stone and Aston; fever broke out amongst them, and the wards of the workhouse infirmaries were unable to contain even a moiety of the sufferers. Every hovel and barn had their burning occupants, and even charity itself seemed frightened from giving assistance. The priest was, of course, busy; and, fortunately for Aston, more than one priest could be had to attend the dying.
All our fathers were at the bed of death many times in the day. Father Gaudentius was struck down with fever, Father Vincent followed next. The duties now devolved upon Father Dominic and Father Ignatius. The poor novice was prostrated by the pestilence, after administering the last rites of the Church to many. He gets a very malignant attack, and in a few days is at the point of death. He prepared for his last passage with the most beautiful dispositions. He thanked God for the privilege of his state, and was particularly delighted at the prospect of dying a martyr to his charity. He receives the Viaticum and Extreme Unction, makes his profession as on death-bed, becomes insensible, and is given an hour to live by the doctors. The religious commence a novena, in which they are joined by the people, for his recovery. God preserved him to his brethren and their flock, for he began immediately to mend. We may form an idea of this poor community, all the active members, except Father Dominic, dying, or in feeble convalescence; their resources, perhaps, run out; and all the energy they had left taxed to its utmost to answer the calls of duty. Few as they were, they had not the least idea of sparing themselves. They still hoped to increase and multiply; but, after the example of Him who increased by dying, and likened the progress of His Church to the dying of the grain of corn in the soil of its growth.
Charitable friends came to their assistance, and amongst the rest, Earl Spencer sent a handsome sum to pay doctors' expenses for his brother. This was considerate, indeed, and as soon as Father Ignatius could manage a pen, he wrote to thank him for his charity. Numbers were deeply concerned for our novice, and two or three Catholic nobles invited him to come and stay with them during his convalescence. Father Dominic did not think him sufficiently ill to warrant his sleeping out of the house, so their kind offers were thankfully declined.
This illness was a double blow to Father Ignatius: he had just received orders from his Superior to prepare for the missions when it came on. An end was put to his preparation for the time, but he resumed the task as soon as the doctors allowed him.
During his noviciate he had two kinds of trials to endure, besides those mentioned already. Father Constantine was remarkable for his meekness and charity; but he put on extra severity for Father Ignatius. His companions tried to show him some marks of distinction, and would offer to relieve him from works that were humiliating, or likely to be galling to one of his standing. The latter trial he complained of, and he was troubled at the other because some of of the religious complained of the novice-master's severity towards him. He had some more mortifications of the kind he playfully told us a few chapters back, as affecting Father Dominic in Oscott. He was troubled with chilblains, and was obliged, in consequence, to wear shoes and stockings for a great part of his noviciate. This he looked upon as a great grievance, inasmuch as he could not live like the others. When at last the chilblains got well, and he was allowed to put on the sandals, he felt overjoyed, and even writes a letter to congratulate himself on his happiness.
He writes two or three letters, in which he notes his astonishment at the Irish being so negligent in England, who had been so regular at home. He says, they all send for the priest, and show great signs of repentance when dying; but, out of a number he attended, only one returned to the Church after recovery. "Still," he says, "it would be long till one of them would answer as the English pensioner is reported to have done on his death-bed. The minister talked much about Heaven and its happiness, but the patient coolly replied, 'It's all very well, sir; but old England and King George for me!'"